I wrote my way out ...

So, I've not written in a while and I'm not even going to try to catch up.

I had to take Michael in to the ER on Tuesday night. We got home at 4 in the morning.
He has gallstones and is in pain. Loads of pain, to be honest.

Wednesday, I ran about on three hours of sleep. Got his prescriptions from the ER doctor. Got him to his primary doctor. Got an appointment with the surgeon for a consult ... got Bruise to soccer (socially-distanced) practice... got Mom to her first physical therapy appointment (since her hip surgery went great).

Thursday had my eye appointment (still no prescription), the big kids' dental cleaning, I ran into the next town (our clinic) for a urine lab (I STILL have a UTI. Joy. At least it's MOSTLY asymptomatic. I mean I have to pee a lot. And there's some blood in there, but it's not that painful or anything ...). Got Michael to his surgeon's consult. We're looking at laparoscopic gallbladder removal in the near future. But not near enough. I hate seeing him in pain.

Yesterday, he ran out of the ER painkillers, so I made sure that his doctor had sent in a new prescription. Ran some errands with various kids ... Got Mom to her other PT appointment (she's made great progress in just two days!!).

Today, I'm washing sheets and Michael's pillows, since he's been sweating so much. 

Bubbles isn't feeling great (sore throat) and started a fever. Bucket is peeved that we cut computer time (since the kids weren't responding to our needings of help (headphones, man ... I don't know that I love them).

Mostly, I just want to sit in the shower and cry. Or nap all day. And I haven't found a way to do either.

I need to finish making the bed, get Bubbles into a bath, ... and about a million other things. But I know that they won't get done.

I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling useless. I hate feeling powerless. 
I hate feeling like no matter what I'm doing, I'm letting my kids down. I hate that they are worried about their dad. I hate that I can't fix this. 

I'm grateful for the amounts of prayers and help that people have extended. 
One of Bruise and Bucket's elementary teachers facebooked that she's moved back into town and would be happy to help ferry the kids about for soccer and dance. Hopefully, at Mom's next appointment on Thursday, she'll be given permission to drive again ... then we're back up to having two drivers in the home again.
A friend is bringing over dinner tonight. (And, even if she weren't, we have lots of leftovers ... which is great, too.)

Okay. Time to get moving again. Let's get my littlest baby to feel better.

October 15

Nana passed this morning.

There's a letter in the mailbox, waiting to be sent to her. I wrote it before I got the phone call. Put a stamp on it and put it in the box before I got the news.

I wrote it, knowing that she might never get it or hear it read aloud in the same room as she was.

I'm going to allow it to be mailed.

Since we've been grieving for Nana the last few years anyways, this is almost a relief.
Almost.

I'm glad that she's back with Pop-pop. I'm glad that she's no longer in any pain, that she has all her memories back, that she gets to see her mother and father and brothers again.

... Christmas hasn't been the same since Grandma Darlene died. It changed a lot of the dynamics of our family traditions. It's been twelve years and I still don't feel the same about Christmas as I did. I still love Christmas, but there's this bittersweet element that was never there before.

Christmas changed even more after Pop-pop passed and Nana sold their house. Then my aunt and uncle took Nana in. Nothing was worse ... just more different.

...
...

My dad, when he called (after I'd received the news from Aunt I ... and called Michael and my mom to let them know), mentioned that it was the 15th. Pop-pop passed August 15 ... so maybe they had a thing for the number 15 (it's not their anniversary, in case you wondered).

No viewing. No funeral. There will be a family get-together later this summer.

I should send down flowers to Dad and L ... as well as Uncle Mike and I ... and Uncle Steve. That would be kind. Not that it accomplishes much ... but it's something. Maybe something with Amaryllis flowers. Those always remind me of Nana for whatever reason.

I think I had more than an inkling that it'd be soon -- her passing. I woke up this morning with "Each Life That Touches Ours for Good" in my head. I got the kids off to school, letting them know that Aunt I and I had talked last night (and that Nana was still alive, still unresponsive, but not in any pain) ... wrote the letter, cried, put it in the mailbox, took a shower, put on CuddlDuds (in black, how fitting), since I felt that I could use something comforting ... and nothing like cozy thermals, right? (Unless you have flannel sheets and an electric blanket or mattress pad). I read some blog posts ... and got the call.

Michael asked if I wanted him to come home early. I told him that I'd be okay.
I would rather cry without witnesses. 

I am aware that this is not a bad thing. Death is a natural part of living.
You'd think, with how morbid I tend to be, that this would be easy to deal with.
I find the concept of death fascinating. I could study the mourning rituals of different ages and cultures for weeks.
... I just find it harrowing to endure it first-person. Though, I do understand some aspects of, say, Victorian mourning. Covering the mirrors --- you don't have to see your tear-streaked and mottled-blotchy face. Not a bad idea.

I'll be okay.
I already have my calendar marked for when I can start her temple work.
Knowing that I can do that for her ... and get her and Pop-pop sealed? That helps.
Knowing that she's back to herself again, even if I can't be with her or hug her to hear her voice over the phone ... it's still hard. But endurable.

This separation isn't for forever.
In fact, it WON'T be.

It still sucks and I hate it. But it is temporary.
I will get her back. And Pop-pop. And Grandma Darlene. And all my other people who've gone where I can't follow yet.

I should go take some Tylenol, though. Crying gives me a headache.
I think I'm going to curl up with something sweet and brainless to watch.

I won't rail against God. Because I know that this is a merciful thing.
She didn't suffer. She was with people who loved her. She was loved by so many.
She's back with her family. She's back with Pop-pop.
She can watch over us all ... and regale us with all the gossip when we meet up again.
And it will be good. Something to look forward to.

A Turn for the Worse ... Here's my brain dump

My aunt called this morning.

Nana is still alive, but she took a big turn for the worse last night. Today, she's unresponsive. She's not in any pain (I knew that the hospice workers and her memory care nurses were good). But, she's not long for this world. I am going to miss her.

They took her out to her favorite lunch on Tuesday. She ate really well. She was okay until about yesterday night. It's not long until she can be reunited with Pop-pop. She's been waiting for that for about seventeen years.

I am going to miss her.
Lots.

But this is not a terrible thing.
I will miss her because I love her.
We will be able to do her temple work ... I think she'll accept it.
We will seal her to Pop-pop. This way they can have an eternal marriage. Even with the dementia, she's never stopped loving him.

She won't have dementia anymore. Her ankle won't hurt her (from a car accident long before I was born). She won't have to manage her diabetes. These are all reasons to be happy.

But I will miss her.

When I got the call today, from Aunt I, my mom was up. She was the first person that I told. Then I told the kids. Then I messaged Michael (since he was on site at a job ... or I'd probably have told him first).

In other news, we ALMOST were able to sell our old house. But the buyers backed out after inspection.  So, if we're counting, and we are, here's the line-up of failures:

• An offer was made, sight-unseen, for above asking price. ... They decided against selling their house. So that fell through.
• An offer was made and accepted, right about asking price. ... He couldn't get funding and the offer had to be terminated.
• An offer was made (lowball. Seriously, we'd already dropped asking price by $5,000. They offered $15,000 below THAT.), counteroffers flew back and forth. Finally, we got about the minimum that we were looking for as profit. Their inspector didn't like the place. Our realtor tried to see if we could fix things up and move forward. They weren't interested.

And that will bring us into a third month of not selling that house. Fun times.

And, OF COURSE, Mother Nature decides that THIS is the PERFECT TIME to give me confirmation that I'm not pregnant. (No, we're not trying. ... Honestly, I'd gladly take a text/email instead of menstruation. ANY TIME.)

We had a bit of a parenting-fiasco that hit this week. Kids eating upstairs. Kids getting into ice cream and leaving it out to melt. Grades nosediving. Lying about eating upstairs and getting into food. Good times. That was Wednesday evening. Bubbles missed her soccer practice. Bruise got his sleepover this weekend cancelled. The kids opted to put themselves to bed early, after cleaning their rooms, without dinner.

Confessions were made the following morning. The big kids turned in missing/corrected work. Grades are improved. Resolutions were made. Restitution is in progress.
Especially after I told them (after confessions were made), the scope of their punishment that they (NARROWLY) escaped:

• No watching TV
• Taking away the clock radios (No radio)
• No extracurriculars (soccer/dance)
• No parties/sleepovers
• Dad and I sell their tablets, since they won't be using them
• No Halloween costumes/trick-or-treating ... they weren't aware that this was even an option on the table. Once I told them this, as I was taking the big kids to their bus drop-off, they were SHOCKED that it was even a possibility. They were VERY GLAD that they confessed before these were put into practice.

We also had a DISCUSSION about honesty, integrity, and accountability. And about how, when you lie, you're damaging that relationship. When you make it a habit of telling the truth, we can give the benefit of the doubt for HONEST mistakes ... but, if you haven't established that trust from continued honesty, there's no room for us to extend that grace.

I think ... I HOPE ... that this is the end of this.

Also, when Bucket declares that "I didn't even know that we had _____," we can't give the benefit of the doubt anymore. Since she's already used that more than once when she was VERY MUCH AWARE of the existence in our possession of ice cream and other treats.

Yes, we're really mean parents.
Mean parents who are determined to groom some DANG, GOOD CITIZENS to release into the wild in another 6-12 years. Or thereabouts.
We want them to have the skills that they need to succeed in life, to make friends and influence people, to establish rewarding careers, to vote responsibly, to impact the world in positive ways.

And also have parents who can trust them.

Win-win, right? #goals

I'm keeping my chin up. But it's not been the easiest couple of weeks.

I am looking forward, though, to when we only own ONE house. That'll be nice.

In some nice news, Bruise made it onto the National AYSO team. He'll get to compete in Hawaii. That means that Michael and I might get to go to Hawaii, right? We've never been to Hawaii. Heck, I've never been off this continent. The farthest north I've been was Victoria, B.C. The farthest south has been San Diego. The farthest east has been Mississippi. ... I'm not that much of a world traveler. Not from lack of desire, mind you. Just lack of money and time. For now. Someday, we'll get all our ducks in order.

After we sell a house, ha ha ha...

Blindsided

I wish this were a happy post.

But I am just trying to process ... so bear with me.

I just got the news that one of my friends, a lady who I had visit-taught, passed away.
She passed just over a week ago. Her funeral is tomorrow.

Just a couple days before her passing, she had facebooked that she was having some health issues to where her doctor ordered a CAT scan. And that she wanted to be able to go back to her home state to help out her mom (who has cancer).

Apparently, she had facebooked in the morning on the day she passed. Just news stories and such.

I am going to miss her. She would send me links that she thought I'd be interested in.

When I first met her, she was not active at church. While I knew her, she became active. She was funny and sweet. She loves animals.

She has a teenage son (stepson, technically, but he's HERS) who went to school at my kids' elementary school. Her husband recently joined the church, which made her so happy.

The thought that came to me is that maybe she's gone on ahead of her mom, to help prepare things there. She can be the one to meet her mom really soon.

But I'm going to miss her. She's a real sweetie.

I just hate missing people. I really, really don't like it.

Don't mind me. I'm going to go cry in the shower. And shave my legs. Because I need to do that.
Especially if I'm going to her funeral (It's either Michael or me. And I should be prepared. ... We'd both like to be there, but there's Bruise and Bubbles's soccer games...).

In which I am maudlin ... let's hope blogging this gets it out of my system.

So, last night I was feeling pitiful (gastronomically ... sorry, TMI) ... and, apparently my brain thought that I should feel pitiful mentally, too!

Misery loves company, right? *overly bright smile*

So, I'm lying in bed, next to Michael and ask ... "Do you think she misses me as much as I miss her?"
He is intuitive and knows that I'm asking about that bestie that ... well, she didn't give me the Cut Direct, since that would involve seeing me. But, yeah, she took herself out of my life without warning.

And ... even though one of the gals I Visit Teach told me, 'Why would you want to keep suffering? Even if she came back and asked to be friends again, why would you take her back?"

It's not that I'm masochistic (well, HOPEFULLY not) ... but, when her and my friendship started out, it was good. It was fun. I miss that.

I don't like that I don't feel as self-assured. I don't like that I lost someone who was so much fun to laugh with.

I mean, it'd be one thing if she had left my life, but I still had my friend K, who passed away, who was fun to laugh and bake with ... even though she and her family were going to move away at some point. I can keep a friendship going cross-country ... I had done it before. Heck, I manage to keep a friendship going across the planet. ... It's just a little harder to do it through the veil (They never call, they never write ...).

But, even though it's been a long while ... nearly a year ... I still feel that ... I ... I just don't feel right.
I feel lost. I feel full of doubt that I'm even a decent friend.

STUDIES SAY, so they say, that if a friendship lasts seven years, it'll be able to weather anything.
...
WELL MAYBE SOME FRICKIN' STUDY IS DEAD WRONG.

And I kind of hate that, too.

Because ... I feel like a crap person.
What kind of crappy person does a girl have to be that her bestie cuts all ties with her without a word? That moves back to the same town and never even texts?

... Going with that, I am a REALLY CRAPPY person.

And ... I don't want to be a really crappy person. I want to know how to have fun, how to not be filled with self-doubt.

And, as friends have pointed out, this now-gone-friend has changed.
And it was harder to be supportive for her ... so ... maybe she's done me a favor?

I don't know.

They say that time heals all wounds.
How do I stop picking at this scab?

..... ..

I've not been very productive ... but that'll be changing here shortly.

I HAVE gotten the kids' laundry through the wash (one more load to dry) ... now to have them fold and put it away when they get home, right?

I'll be doing another load of dishes, since that's a NEED. And I'm going to get the front rooms cleaned up a bit more (since they're really not at all right yet. Ha ha...)

So, a few months ago, I did the "see less from" for a friend of mine on Facebook, knowing that we'd still be Facebook friends and that, when I was ready to see more of her posts, I could just go to her page.

I realized today, since I was feeling braver and readier, that somehow we've been unfriended.

I had to call Michael anyway, so he looked too. (An engineer-ish trait is confirming information, just to be sure that things are really things.) He also had been unfriended.

I can hope that this is a Facebook glitch, though there are more than a dozen friends that we still have in common.

I'm not feeling brave enough, though, to send a message, to throw out a "hey! I saw that Facebook says we're not friends anymore! Whoops! I hope that I didn't do that ... or that you didn't do that. Because I still care. And I hope that you do, too. ... Not hearing from you when you were in town was sad, but I figured that you were busy and all. And I didn't want to be that needy friend when you're busy. ... Or it could be that, as close friends as we were, you do just need your space and all ... and maybe I'm not quite as fun/cool/supportive/helpful to you as I hoped I was. ... And, well, that's cool, too. Because I just want you to be happy. ... Even though I miss you. ... But I hope that you and your family are all doing well. And that you're happy. Because I want you to be happy and healed and whole..."

But, really, how do you say all that in a not-at-all-pathetic, no-pressure way?
I'm not coming up with anything.

So, yeah.

I mean it's great that Michael's my best friend and I have him and get to see him and have sleepovers with him just about every single day. And my mom's an awesome bestie, too.
I have other friends-that-are-girls, too ... just not always as close as I'd like or within a 30-minute drive, you know?

And I know that 99%+ is all on me for that. It's easier, with kids, to NOT leave the house and just replace calling people (and dealing with kids in the background/ambient noise/non-complimentary schedules/etc) with emailing, facebook, and blogging. ... Or not even doing those, but striving to achieve a cleaner house and/or making progress in getting through my TBR pile.

I mean, I know that this friendship was on the rocks and all ... we weren't talking or emailing (though, when I'd reach out, she'd respond and it'd be very much like old times ... though with her being far away and having kids and going through school and ... a lot of ands ...) ... I know she's busy. But I miss hanging out with her. And it hurts to have this ... raw space.

And I get that them's the breaks sometimes. And it'll suck for a while.
And I'll need to pray and read my scriptures more. And things will get easier.
And I'll clean my house and invite some friends over to watch movies together.
And, eventually, Bubbles will be in school and I'll start volunteering at the library or spend more time volunteering at the kids' school(s).
And maybe PTC will choose a day/time that isn't the same date/time so that I can work to be more social with the sisters in my ward ...


...

.....

...

So, I obviously need to be more proactive in being social.
And, in order to do THAT, I should clean my house so that I can have people over without them being in danger of bodily harm (from tripping over the mess) AND so they'll have a place to sit (as comfortable as my piles and piles and piles of laundry are ...).

I'm not totally, completely okay yet ... but it's nice to be able to type all this out in some attempt to work out HOW my jumble of feelings can be translated into actual thoughts.

Though, I'll be honest ... I do rather wish that I was back in high school where/when all my good friends lived pretty close. That was handy. If one moves away/starts being homeschooled/whatever, I could still keep in contact a bit ... but there were other friends to hang out with at lunch or before school or at rehearsal. I miss that. I miss it a lot.

Your "What's-Gone-On-In-the-Last-Two-Weeks-If-You-Really-Care" Update

So, yeah, it's been two weeks since I last blogged.
(Way to go, me ... sounds like I'm starting with a confession. I'm not Catholic, but I do have some friends who are ... and it's not like I haven't seen movies where a character is in Confession ... I digress. Like I always do.)

Okay, since June 9th ...

Well, I WANTED this to be a fun, chatty post, since I got back in touch with my high-school Theater teacher (also taught Writing for College, which was a great class, too). (No, I'm NOT trying to suck up, okay? I really did enjoy those classes AND having him as a teacher/friend. Geez, you guys.) ... where was I? Oh yes ... AND I would have really preferred, since I told him that I have a blog and he said that he'd be glad to read it, to have something witty and funny and well-drafted ... but, well, it is what it is (didn't Vonnegut say that? I find myself saying it a lot. And I think it's a quote ... Whatever. I've just gotten up and I can't brain yet).

Sorry, Mr. A. I really did want to be clever and awesome. But, well, at least you know that I didn't hire a ghostwriter or anything, right?

SO ... the kids are out of school for the summer. Bruise and Bucket had their well-child check-up. They're current on their shots (Bucket had pumped herself up to be prepared for a vaccination, though I was pretty sure she didn't need one, so she was bummed NOT to get a shot. ... Yup, that's my girl).
That's how we started Summer Vacation -- go to the doctor's, then take the kids' to Grandma's house (while Mom and Dad go to a meeting [read that: get to a meeting rather late because the guy in charge of getting information only told us the [City] Stake Center, not an address. So we went to the church building in [City], then had to call our sister-in-law to figure out where we (and another ten cars) SHOULD be ... which meant that we were BARELY on time. Which meant that Michael had to listen to me grouse about how I HATE being late. Poor guy. At least we got to eat at the Pita Pit for dinner, so it wasn't terrible. And the meeting was good [about missionary work]).

Backtracking -- the kids had a fun time at their class trip to OMSI. I was feeling guilty about not going with (but then I'd have to run Bubbles up to Mom C's, run the kids and myself BACK into town, drive up to OMSI -- most likely carpooling, so then I'd have to drop off everyone BACK at the school and run BACK UP to Mom C's, AND THEN go back home) ... however, since I found myself being VERY GOOD FRIENDS with Mr. Toilet that day, I didn't feel so guilty.
(I would have said that I didn't feel so bad, but that would have been a lie. Since I was NOT feeling good by any means. Not for a while.)

I've agreed to be PTC (Parent-Teacher Club) Secretary for the 2015-2016 school year.
Sounds like the meetings will be moved to Tuesday evenings, which mostly work better for me. Michael can pick up the kids (and take Bucket to her Activity Days twice a month) ... I'd better prepare a metric crapton of slow cooker meals.
It also sounds like there'll be a morning meeting once a month. I'm sure they'll get used to me in pajamas, schlepping my brood in. (I jest, I jest. But I WILL be rocking a ponytail with my I-threw-this-on-right-before-running-to-the-car ensemble.)

Before the kids went down to stay a week with grandfolks (they stayed with my dad and L Monday; then, until Friday, they were with my mom and stepdad), we did the kick-off for the city summer activity/scavenger hunt/passport program/thing. It's actually really fun. You get a little passport and go around (mostly downtown) and collect stamps from participating businesses. At some places, you need to do something to earn your stamp. At others, you get to make something (like at the paint-you-own pottery, you paint a little trinket [which you'll come back later to pick up, after it's been put into the kiln and cooled. Or, at a coffee shop/deli, (at least last year) kids made their own, free, Italian soda. Or you had to shoot so many baskets on the court at the YMCA. Stuff like that]). Some are out a little ways -- in one, you go to a historic mill, which makes a nice day trip. it's fun to go on the tour and into the little interpretive center -- grind some flour by hand. Maybe feed the chickens and turkeys ...

But, yeah, Bruise, Bucket, and Bubbles had fun spending the week with grandfolks. They all came back happy, tired, and sunburned (I know they did put on sunscreen. They were JUST in the sun that much).

While they were gone, I had high hopes of laying in bed and reading all day (like I could do pre-kids). Instead I did small bursts of cleaning ... and got my hair colored.
Tuesday, I went through the kids' outgrown clothing and got that sorted. Then I went to the salon for my appointment. I'm now even blonder (working towards platinum, since that's one of the [few] colors I haven't done) and sporting some fun streaks. We tried to do teal, purple, and pink ... but the pink didn't take at all. So I have fun teal and purple streaks (hadn't done purple streaks before. I've done teal, but only on the bottom-most layer of hair. And that was years ago) happening.
Then Michael and I went to see Jurassic World (which was good despite not starring Dr. Ian Malcom. Though, trivia says (and I missed it), that Jeff Goldblum's picture IS featured on a couple books held by two characters in the film).

Wednesday, I cleaned up the house a bit and organized a freezer (which NEEDED to happen, because I was sick and tired of foisting off an impeding avalanche EVERY time I opened that stinkin' freezer), since we were feeding the missionaries. One of the elders is going to be going home soon. Which is a bummer (for us) since he's really fun. But we know that his family misses him, so we'll deal.
After dinner, we went to Home Depot to go pick up supplies for Thursday evening ...

Thursday, I spent around four hours cleaning up the kids' room. Two bags of stuff to donate. Another FULL bag of trash, countless passes with the vacuum on every bit of floor that I could reach, cleaning off the BIG shelves ... and their room was clean. BUT ONLY HALF OF THEIR ROOM.
(We worked on the other half of the floor and the closet on Sunday. Happy Father's Day, Honey!)

Then I went shoe shopping. I ended up with a pair of sneakers (goal), a pair of dress shoes (secondary goal), a pair of nice flip-flops, and a new shirt (bonus!) And some new socks. And a swim cap to protect my dye job (which sort of worked).

Thursday night, we spent building Bubbles's new bed, since she bent the frame of her (used) toddler bed by jumping on it. Whoops. Michael cut the boards, I sanded the boards. We ran to Home Depot again (another board and more sandpaper). We bolted the thing together and screwed down the plywood ... If a bomb should happen, that bed might burn to the ground. But it'll burn to the ground as a thing SOLIDLY BOLTED TOGETHER. Doesn't even shake or shiver when I sit on it.

Friday, I went to work with Michael. I helped Paige (the office manager) by collapsing cardboard boxes (which brought back memories as I used the boxcutter. Even though it's been around 20 years, I still know how to employ boxcutter safety. Thank you Shop Smart and your [kinda boring] safety videos). Then we took out the recycling ... which, being Paige and me, was filled with giggling and nearly dropping bags of precariously-piled bags of magazines and newspapers. She's totally fun to hang with. And I got to meet her son in the survey department (Lest you misunderstand, this is NOT a large company. I think they have about 15-20 employees. But I hadn't met everyone ... usually since, if we come with the kids, I work to take the kids out to the stores in the complex or the park, so that Michael can actually get some work done. That and we never can turn down a trip to Trader Jo's. :P).

After work, we got lunch (even though Cafe Yumm did mess up our order a little. It was still delicious.) and headed down to my hometown. We collected the kids so we could check into the hotel (and give my mom a chance to rest -- between taking care of the kids AND my stepdad [who has dementia], she was exhausted. Poor girl).

We checked in, got settled, waited for my aunt and my cousin's daughter (who Aunt J is taking care of this summer) to come, then we went swimming.
Since I mentioned that my swim cap mostly worked, instead of having nice delineated technicolor streaks, they turned into more ... mermaid hair. Which isn't BAD by any means. Just a little different.

After that, we got dressed and ready and headed back to Mom's for dinner.
After eating and the kids (Cousin + my munchkin brigade) playing, we headed back to the hotel, took a small tour of the casino, and went to bed.

Michael joked that, "Hey, maybe this is the room that Mike Rowe stayed in a few weeks back." But I had to break it to him that, no, THAT hotel is the one across the highway.
(Though, it WOULD have been awesome to be able to make that claim. Heck, I think that THAT hotel should get a little brass historical event plaque for the door: "On ___, 2015, Mike Rowe slept in this room." We could use the added tourism, I'm sure.)

Saturday, we started back fro home, making a stop at Wildlife Safari (If you have a membership at the Oregon Zoo [Ours is almost ready to expire], you can get your admission for 1/2 price. #TheMoreYouKnow) So we made it worth our while. Then we scouted some stores for another LEGO set that's all sold out up here. No dice. And we got some fast food for the drive home.

We got the sad news that Michael did not pass his HUGE engineering test that he took back in April.
He'll be taking it again, next April.
Please send prayers, good thoughts, happy muju, whatever.
Passing this test (next year) will make him a full-fledged Civil Engineer.
Which is what he's been working for.
(I'm just irritated that OSBEELS is dumb in not letting you know your actual score or what you missed or anything. Just a Pass/Fail. Which isn't very helpful. How can you gauge how much you need to improve? Bah.)

Bubbles loves her new bed. The kids are enjoying their clean room (still need to go through three dressers -- hoping to get Bucket's clothes into ONE dresser, so that the other dresser can START housing Bubbles's clothes -- getting THOSE out of OUR room -- AND one set of shelves. THEN they will have a CLEAN-clean room.
And they'll just have to do maintenance on it ... or face the wrath of a frustrated mommy. (A fate worse than death!)

We wished everyone (Michael's dad, my stepdad, my dad, and my Grampy) a happy Father's Day on Sunday. The little craft that the kids in Nursery did for the dads was well-received (the kids did a handprint on a page that said "Daddy, I'm hooked on you." We added a googly eye and orange lips to make the handprints into fish. I made it about as simple and easy as possible. just had to ink up the kids' hands, make the prints, wipe off the hands, let dry, draw on lips with an orange marker, glue on the googly eye, and let dry. Most of them were even done last week. Even better).

Yesterday, we did some chores while Michael was at work. Then we went to a Health Fair, to the library, and back home. The big kids worked on Duolingo (Spanish) and khanacademy (math) and read a bit. And played outside with a neighbor.
Then we went to their swim lesson, where they had fun with Bob.

Today (and the rest of this week) will be more of the same -- housework, not forgetting everything they learned last year, playing ... and doing some of the town passport program.

As I type all this out, I realize that I have a vaguely boring life. But ... well, I like it.

Because, unfortunately, there are much worse alternatives.
Like what happened in my hometown Saturday night.

I don't know how much it's been on the news, but there was a shooting.
In my small hometown.
Which left my cousin's best friend's husband dead.
By his nephew (who was one of my classmates since Kindergarten).

Both the victim, JP, and BF, who shot him are family members of a couple that are in my home Ward (church congregation, if you're not LDS) family.
J is the son of this couple. B is their grandson.

And we're just left reeling. Because ... how could this have happened?
My cousin's BFF went from having a perfect, happy family to being a widow in seconds. And she witnessed the whole thing. I can't imagine how she's feeling.
And poor N (the mom/grandma) ... because she and her husband are some of the nicest, kindest people around ... nobody deserves for this to happen, least of all them.

I keep hoping that this is just some crap nightmare. But it's not.

And I can't wrap my head around this.
BF was a nice guy.
When we were in Kindergarten together, after school, we'd walk the block north from the school, then part ways (he towards his grandma's house about a block away to the west, me further north to my house).
"See you in a million years!" he'd call as he crossed the street.
"No, see you tomorrow," literal-minded little me would call back.

And, in middle school, when he was in the popular group and I was not ... One time, in P.E., he came up to me after another less-than-pleasant bout of existence with some of the in-crowd kids.
"You know," he told me, "you could be popular."
"What?" I replied. As quick on the uptake as ever. Typical Allanna.
"You could be popular, too. If you drop [friend's name] as a friend."
(I mean, I didn't make that choice. But I knew that BF didn't have to tell me that. And that he did because he saw what was going on. And I was sure that he remembered how we were friends in elementary school ... and that ... well, it's not the type of thing someone without empathy and caring would do.)

Even on Facebook, now, people are all commenting that they can't believe that BF would ever do something like that. He was So-and-so's friend. He was always a good guy. ...

... what happened?

And I keep wondering if there was something that I could have done.
I mean, after middle school, we weren't close or anything. We were in the same school and we'd say "hi" to each other when we saw each other. But we didn't move in the same circles, really.
But I always thought of him as a friend.

I mean, I was DOWN in our hometown that day.
If I knew then what I do now, I'd have worked to track him down and talked to him.

But, I mean, what could I have said ... "Hey, later tonight, don't shoot your uncle. AT ALL. Not even once, let alone a bunch. M'kay? That'd be great. So, how's it been going for the last decade or so? You doing okay?"

Not very realistic, I know. But ... could I have been a better friend to him? Was he even on Facebook? I could have sent him a friend request ... let him know that I always remember him fondly, since we were friends a long time ago. That I appreciated that he offered me that chance at being in the in-crowd when nobody else really seemed to care (except jumping at the chance to make my friend's life pretty awful).

Michael tells me there's really nothing that I could have done differently.
Which is true. Unless I had a time-machine or something ...

Which then makes me wonder WHY this happened? HOW could this happen?
This is the kind of thing you read about.
It's not something that you can prepare yourself for in advance (well, not and remain mentally healthy).

And I find myself, squatting to find refried beans or tomato sauce in the pantry cupboard and wondering, "What am I doing with my life??? Why am I even here ... what's the significance of my existence right now? I should be doing something ... and ..."
And then I have to get on with my life because I have three kids who need to be fed and a husband to assist and a cat to snuggle (so she won't get all anxious and pee in the laundry pile or over-groom herself. Seriously, I cannot believe that out of all of us, it's the CAT that has a prescription for Prozac. Obviously, this is the perfect cat for me. Obviously.)

However, I think that it's time to escape into a book sometime today.
I have a pile of library books that need to be read ... but I'm feeling the need to jump into a tested-and-true old friend. Something familiar. Something safe. Something that will be good to read while Bubbles is napping.

I mean, I have faith that there's an overall plan. And that we all are going to learn and grow from this ... horrible ... happenstance.

But, still, I really wish it hadn't happened at all.

When I am benevolent dictator of the world, all conflicts will be dealt with hugging-it-out. Or maybe pie-eating contests. Or staring contests whilst eating dark chocolate (unless one is allergic. To chocolate. I've not yet heard of anyone being allergic to staring ... but what do I know?).

Venting

So, as the wife of an Elders Quorum President (the guy who presides over the Elders [the guys who are over 18 who aren't high priests ... yeah, I'm not good at explaining it all, since I'm not in EQ or High Priests, but bear with me] ... in simplest terms, a group of guys in a class/group at church), I sometimes am employed as an unofficial EQ Secretary. (I answer the phone when people call the house to ask Michael to arrange some elders to go over and help people move or arrange a couple elders to go give someone a blessing or whatever and he's not already home ... or, since I know a lot of people in the ward on Facebook, sometimes I'm asked to get hold of someone we've had no luck reaching any other way ...)

Which brings me to today .... .... .... Yeah.

SO, there's a family in our ward/congregation. I've known the husband for AGES. We grew up together. I was in Sunday School classes with one of his sisters. He and his family are in our ward. And we've only run into each other at church once.

For the last year (or thereabouts), he won't return phone calls or texts or anything. But I have him as a friend on Facebook.

So, per Michael's request, since he's not returned anyone's calls or whatever for the last few (many) months, I sent him a FB message and a text. This week, the EQ presidency (president, first and second counselors, and their secretary) are getting together with the Stake Presidency to visit some families in the ward. They were hoping to visit this family.

I sent a message and text that pretty much said, "Hey! This is Allanna! Are you and your family up for a visit at date/time? If not, get back to me! If I don't hear back from you, expect a visit! :)"

.... .... ....

Well, a couple hours later, I get a fb message:
I do not appreciate the manipulative manner in which you have attempted to illicit a response from me. If and when I am comfortable having you in my home, I will invite you - not the other way around. Until such a time should occur, please refrain from further manipulative communications. So, since I am not one who likes conflict or irritating/offending others, I figure that I can apologize ... even though I KNOW that asking for an RSVP is not usually classified as "manipulative" behavior. I wrote back:

You're right, [Name] ... I was not my best. I will admit that you're totally justified in calling me out on that. Michael (and his secretary, Brother [Secretary]) have had no luck whatsoever in touching bases with you. I was hoping that I might have better success. And I see that I was wrong.

I'm sorry. I do feel bad that you feel very disrespected. You have every right to your feelings.

I don't want to be a bother or offensive to you. And I'm sorry that I was.

What can I do to make things right? Because I do like you. I miss seeing you around, like when we were in the Canyonville Ward.

Please accept my apology for being a complete dunderhead and all other insults that I deserve. I wasn't trying to be a jerk. ... I just seem to have that talent. Which I will work on not having.

Sorry.

And then I went through feeling HORRIBLE because I've apparently been an awful, manipulative person. I called Michael and let him know what was up. I tried to stop crying, wracking my brain to figure how I messed this up. I called my mom (who knows this other party) ... and she assured me that I wasn't being a manipulative wretch. And, after Michael got home, he told me point-blank that I wasn't being manipulative. That this friend has been blowing off EVERYONE for ... well, nearly a year ... and that this was rather a last resort, since he never responds to anyone else (and, if Michael drops by, they don't answer the door). Michael's frustrated that [Name] isn't being gutsy enough to tell anyone that they don't want visits ... and that he then does this. I took a shower ... and cried some more (better than emotional eating, right? Right??) ... and I passed from being a sad-sack into crossing the threshold into near-blinding rage.

• Seriously, I've known this guy for over TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. He knows me. He knows that I'm generally a good person. He probably is also aware that I can be a really sensitive person. And that I do my best not to be easily offended. And that I do my damndest not to offend others ... especially on purpose. I try NOT to be manipulative. I CAN be ... but I really try not to coerce others. Because it's not kind or right. And I want to be like Jesus, dammit. (Saying "damn so much is not very Christlike. I know. I'm human ... I'm aware.)
• He could have JUST AS EASILY written something a heckuva lot more tactful. (e.g., "I'm sorry, Allanna. That doesn't fit our schedule. We're not up for visits at all. In fact, take us off the church records." OR "No, that doesn't work for us. Maybe we could meet up at a park or something in the summer." OR "Nope. Doesn't work." OR "Not ready for a visit. Put us as DNC (Do Not Contact)." ... ANY OF THOSE WOULD WORK AND NOT RESORT TO CALLING ME NAMES WHEN I'M ONLY TRYING TO HELP MY HUSBAND AND A FRIEND.

I mean, I'm not a really violent person. But, if I could quit seeping tears (now of rage instead of self-pity), I almost feel like punching something. Like this guy.

I mean, really ... "Silence implies consent" is a totally valid thing. If guys say it, they're not accused of being manipulative. They're lauded as leaders. When people are doing social things, being asked to RSVP is not out of the ordinary. You don't hear people getting invitations getting all pissy about saying if they can make it or not. Yes, I GET that it's a VISIT to THEIR HOUSE ... but this is NOT something out of the ordinary in our church. In fact, a family SHOULD be getting a visit from their home teachers AND a visit from their visiting teachers ... TWO visits per month! He grew up in this church. His dad (and granddad) have both been BISHOPS of the ward ... As my mom pointed out ... and Michael and I agree ... something is going on. And it's something that makes him uncomfortable ... uncomfortable enough to take it out on me. I mean, if I'm being manipulative, it's like Hello Kitty-level manipulation. If need be, I can TOTALLY pull out the big guns and be all Maleficent-level. But that's not really helping anyone. So, yeah ... I'm just really irked and more irked. I try to do something good. And ... well, THIS. I know, I know ... I need to take it on the chin. To have skin soft as rose petals and thick as naugahyde. I'm working on it. Still, if I didn't feel so blindsided by this, it'd be easier to deal with.

Happy 2014!

I'm blogging ... and it's not even been a whole WEEK between blogs.

Shocker, right?

Well, hey, at least I'm getting a good start to the new year, right?

So, let's get all caught up.

Sunday was church. We brought snack for the Nursery class (Fig Newtons and string cheese. Snack of CHAMPIONS. Or, at least, it's something that the kids will eat). Then we just had a kinda lazy day at home ... to recuperate from BOTH Michael and me having to speak in the fifth Sunday lesson (where, usually, all the folks NOT teaching in Primary [childrens' classes] meet together.)

Monday, we cleaned up the house. Michael took Bruise and Bucket's baptism invitations to be printed. We went grocery shopping and delivered a meal to a family in the ward. I addressed envelopes and got the kids' baptism invites into the mail. I made sure that the kids' birthday invites were emailed out (and their teacher will help in inviting some of their school friends that I DON'T have contact information for).

Tuesday, we went to Costco after taking down the Christmas decorations. The kids played outside with a neighbor (except for Bubbles who took a nap. FINALLY) until we took them to Mom and Dad C's for a sleepover with some cousins ... which freed up OUR New Year's Eve.

So, we had an evening without kids ... what should we do?

GO WILD AND CRAZY!!
We bought dinner at Safeway (Chinese food wraps ... and I had my Cherry Coke to help me stay awake during out late night out) and hit the local, closing Blockbuster ... bought a few movies.
Then we got our tickets ... we watched The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug first.
I have to say that the fight choreographer has QUITE the sense of humor.
Very good. We liked it.
Then we went to Fred Meyer to kill some time ... and I found a copy of mental_floss to buy. (Yay!!)
And back to the theater to watch The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. We got discount popcorn and a free soda (And they had Cherry Coke! Yay! No ice, because I want Cherry Coke, not gross watered-down soda) ... which, since I'm not so used to THAT much caffeine (yes, two cokes for me = more than I'm used to. What? I'm a lightweight in that way.), I noticed that my heart was racing a bit after the Quarter Quell began.
We enjoyed both movies a lot.

Then we went to bed ...

And I was dead to the world until almost 8:30 this morning.
After we got up, we watched our Netflix DVD (The Wolverine) ... then we got ready for Mom and Dad C to bring the kids back.

And, since we were hungry, we went out for lunch.
And then went back home and played SongParty on the WiiU.

And I'm exhausted.

The other day, I had my legs across Bucket's lap.
She let me do that, sweet girl. ... Then ...

Bucket: Oh, look. Here's the line from where you wore your socks too long. Aww.
And it feels like you have a rash. ... Oh, wait. That's just that you haven't shaved your legs.

Yup, that's my girl.

I don't know where she'd learn anything like that ...

Like how, as I was exhausted, Michael challenged me to describe string theory.

My answer?

Well, you take a bunch of yarn. Or threads. And you make hypotheses and test them. And it involves Physics. ... But you can't KNOW. Because it's STRING THEORY. If you KNEW, then it'd be STRING LAW.

Yup, he's so lucky to have me.

I still need to figure a time to use the elliptical on a regular basis. And when to read scriptures and such.
And I want to get caught up (again) on laundry and dishes. And plan meals.

But, hey, at least we're pretty prepared for the kids' baptism and birthday.
Now to plan Bubbles' birthday.

And Mom C is talking of convincing everyone to come home a day early from their vacation to make the kids' baptism ... It'd be nice.

Also, yesterday, I received news that one of our past bishops and neighbors passed away.
Nelson lived down the road from my folks' house. He was also one of our Home Teachers.
He was always very kind and helpful.
He and Betty, his wife, were at my mom and stepdad's wedding.
Before that, when the wiring at our house was wonky, he came and helped work on it ... and, mistaking the sound of his footsteps, I called him "Mom."
He leaves behind a wonderful, large family with many children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. And many friends.
But I know that we'll get to see him again. Not immediately ... but sooner than later.

And he'll have all his fingers. And his body will be strong and healthy again.
And that'll be nice.

Challenges ...

Maybe I'll get a fun title ... or, at least, a creative one ... but right now ... no.

So ... I'm sure everyone's aware of how there was a bombing at the Boston Marathon (well, thanks, Allanna's subconscious. You almost had me write "Boston Massacre." And, though rather apt, that's not what it was supposed to be.)

(Yes, I just talked to my subconscious there. What, you mean you don't?)

But, yeah ... I'm in a bit of a funk.
And when I say a bit ... I mean A LOT.
Because I am generally a happy-ish-type person.
And I don't feel happy much at all right now.

And, NO, it's not my period. Thanks for asking.

But the fact is that, yes, bad things happen. People are suffering. Some lost their life or a loved one. Many more were injured. There's a picture making its way around Facebook (and yes, I did check for authenticity. Because I HATE it when things are posted that aren't confirmed truth. Sadly, this IS.) with a man who lost at least one leg (below the knee). ... And, according to the news reports, out of the 170 or so injured, there were a LOT of amputees.

And an eight-year-old boy was killed ... out of three deaths, one was so young.

Nevertheless, things like this SHOULD NOT HAPPEN.
I want to know what someone would think to explain that behavior ... and, well, then I DON'T want to know. Because, regardless of any explanation which MIGHT make some semblance of reason for this to occur, there's the fact that it SHOULD NOT HAPPEN.

I feel angry. And helpless. And depressed. And irritated.
All rolled up into some little hedgehog-ball of upset ... with a soft underbelly of hurting.

Because, well, I can't even imagine what those runners and their friends and families are going through.
I can't imagine how it could be to go run in a marathon ... and then end the day with the possibility of never running again.

This is bollocks, y'all. Total bollocks.
Why can't we just be freaking NICE to each other?
Why do we, as a species, target each other? It doesn't make sense.

I just want to go and smack everyone up the head and be all, "You're a FREAKING CHILD OF GOD. HE LOVES YOU. HE LOVES EVERYONE. SO JUST GO AND TREAT EVERYONE WITH LOVE, DAMMIT!"

But, well, wouldn't that be a bit hypocritical and counter-productive?
I think it might be. Just a titch. (WARNING: UNDERSTATEMENT ALERT)

Seriously ... what is it with the fact that every time I try and do something frigging RIGHT, crap blows up (not always literally) ... but still. What the aitch is UP with that?

(Satan, that's what. Because he wants me to just give up and be a spiritual slug ... amirite?)

(Oh gosh, now I have SNL's The Church Lady in my brain. That usually just happens when Mom and I sit next to each other in Sunday School. Then we'll whisper "Could it be ... SATAN!?!?" or "Well, isn't that special?" to each other. Yes, there's a reason my mom is one of my besties. Many reasons, actually. But that is one of them.)

BUT!!
Where was I? Ah, yes!
SO, yesterday started out fiiiiiiiine -- I got the kids off to school (even though Bucket's lunchbag appears to be missing. Again.), Bubbles and I said an itsty prayer together (never too early to start a habit, right? And I should be doing WAY stinkin' better at instilling this into ALL the children. And myself.). Eventually, I got breakfast and did some laundry. ... And I got the news about Boston.

I don't really know anyone in Boston ... do I?
Thankfully, all my friends' friends (that THEY know) who were in the Marathon are safe and accounted for.

I read my scriptures ... blogged about that.
Started another spiritual/scriptural-type challenge ... Voices for Virtue created a 40-day challenge.

In the shortest terms possible, here it is: Read one conference talk per day for 40 days (with the exception of one day when you read the Sustaining of the Church Officers and the Auditing report and the Statistical report ... because those are all rather short)

So, yeah ... I started doing that, too. Since it STARTED yesterday. And, well, why not?
I mean, if it's so important for us to receive this revelation as a whole church, shouldn't I actually, you know, better acquaint myself with it?

Yesterday, also, my language practice SUCKED. Seriously sucked. German conjunctions and Spanish questions (Que, Donde, and so on ... and, yes, I DON'T have the accents on there. Because I'm lazy and peevish.) ... they just were NOT happening.

But, regardless, I DID read my scriptures and the opening remarks for Conference.
Did I feel tons better? ... I really couldn't say. Mostly because, well, if you usually feel around an 80 and then you feel around a -500, feeling around a -75 is better, but not great.

Today's reading was Elder Packer's talk. And it was a nice talk. I do worry, though, that he's not going to be with us a terribly lot longer. And that makes me sad.
He talks of how much wisdom he's gained ... and how, even though it's so hard to move about and do things he used to love, he wouldn't change that ... because the knowledge and experience he's gained is so precious to him.
He also talks of complacency and protecting the home and family against the bad things that are out there.

However, with what happened yesterday ... I keep thinking more toward one of the last talks given in Conference. Elder Bruce D. Porter gave a talk, "Beautiful Mornings."
And I liked how it was summed up over at The Latter-day Snark ... about how it wasn't so much about why bad things happen to good people, but more about who cares why bad things happen to good people.
I did give it a quick read-over ... and, yes, I feel more better than I did before I read it.

I do have a testimony that, through Heavenly Father's plan of happiness, that things will work out.
(Which reminds me of another conference talk, President Uchtdorf's "The Hope of God's Light.")

I know that we will have trials here on earth. And that we have the opportunity to learn and to grow from the trials that we and others face. It's not always going to be easy or fun ... But there will be good to balance out all the suck that is in the world. And, without all the bad, how would we even recognize what is good? ... So I do have to be thankful for the bad, too. (Though I might not be as grateful for it as I probably should be.)

I'm grateful for the Atonement ... so that we have a sure witness that everything WILL be right. Maybe not right now, but eventually. I'm glad to know that the people affected by the bombing will be made whole and perfect again.

It's just trudging through the figurative mud here that is hard. But we'll get by, right?
(If you're not sure, we do have it on good authority that we WILL. It just takes time and effort.)

Okay, so I should read my scriptures for the day ... Mosiah 9:1-9:19

• Okay, I had to go to the actual scriptures to make more sense of all this ... Chapter headings make like a LOT easier. So, now Ammon and Limhi and everyone are reading the plates Limhi's people found (So, they were translated! Whoot!) ... and it's the record of a civilization that came before.
• Zeniff is the part of a group who've left Zarahemla for the land of Lehi-Nephi He knows how to read and write (obvs, or else we wouldn't have this record). He spies on the Lamanite forces ... but, when he observes them , he realizes that there's a lot of good ... so he doesn't think that his group should wipe the Lamanites out. 
• However, the leader of the group is more bloodthirsty and doesn't really care for the idea of making a treaty with the Lamanites. So much so that he wants to put Zeniff to death for daring to question orders. He's spared due to a civil war fought among their own people. He is one of the few (it sounds like less than half of the original troop survived) that returns to Zarahemla to report to the families.
• Still, they REALLY want to regain the land of their ancestors, so they head back ... but, since they're not as righteous as they should be, they have a lot of trials (famine and "sore affliction," which always makes me think of boils ... but I'm sure that's not it. Or, at least not all of it.)
• Eventually, they return to where they started (where the original group camped, at least, before the civil war) ... They meet with the Lamanite leader who, remarkably, is pretty cool with the transfer of land. They agree to make a peaceful transfer ... his people leave the land of Lehi-Nephi and Shiom.
• BUT!! King Laman was a crafty guy ... after the Nephites move in, build their homes, establish farms ... really get settled in, he plans to get the Nephites into bondage and repossess their lands.
• But, like the Israelites in Egypt (as in "Tell old Pharaoh 'Let my people go!" ... you know, the story of Moses?), the Nephites were prosperous and, well, there were a LOT of them. So King Laman is forced to act sooner rather than later.
• The Lamanites are a society where there's not such the great work ethic, apparently ... and they really, really want to have all the food and flocks that the Nephites have raised (Kinda like the dog and the cat in "The Little Red Hen." You know, they don't help out, but they're more than happy to offer to eat the bread. Should I have prefaced that with "Spoiler Alert?" :P)
  So, under the king's direction, they start fighting with the Nephites and taking the crops and flocks of those they overtake.
• The Nephites that aren't killed in the raids flee to the main city with its stronghold and beg Zeniff for protection. He arms them with all the weapons he can get his hands or or create ... and they go to battle with the Lamanites, crying to the Lord for help.
• There's a huge battle ... In about 24 hours, they slay 3,043 Lamanites. Eventually, the Lamanites are driven back out of the land of Lehi-Nephi. The Nephites bury the dead, including their own 279 casualties.

I'm not totally sure what all I should be learning from this. ... I mean, it's really good to have a good work ethic. And to pray when you're doing hard/dangerous things. There is the whole similarity of the Nephites and Israel in Egypt ... I don't know that I really noticed that before.

But ... yeah.

Well, my mental health number is a bit better than it was earlier. 

Apparently the migraine that Michael came home with must have gone away ... since he went to work and everything. We're counting down to our vacation ... I'm trying not to freak out. Because, apparently, I am a  control freak and I'm trying to figure out how to keep the kids entertained on a long car trip (and that's IF we don't get in a traffic jam) and what all to pack for food and how many pairs of underwear we all need ... and how many diapers to bring (because, after getting urine in my FACE last time, if a certain child of mine does not empty his bladder out? He's going to pee into a diaper, so help me. Because, face it, you do NOT need to use the bathroom every half-hour. Especially in HEAVY TRAFFIC. Just sayin'.)

And I'm gearing up to wear a swimsuit. Please send me the mental fortitude to deal with the idea of people seeing me in a swimsuit ... because I am NOT in shape like I was when I was a teenager. Also, I am so pasty-white that I practically glow in the dark. ... However, since I colored my hair (red), it's rather fitting for that. But still ... I don't like being in a swimsuit in front of people so much. I like swimming and playing in the water too much to let it stop me ... but, oh, goodness. First world problems, amirite?

And we need to get an oil change and vacation is coming up fast and ... oh, I think my brain is going to explode and leak out my ears. Until we head off ... then I'll be okay. It's just that I'm bad with anticipation. It apparently freaks me out. So I live in denial until it's too late ... I freak out and try to get everything done ... and then I can have a good time.

It's exactly what I do when I gear up for a performance.
Fun times, right?

Braindump and Catching up

So, since I last blogged, we had General Conference.
I'm not going to blog all of my notes yet ... but, if you're really wanting to know bits that stood out to me, you can browse my Twitter feed  (@llannalee).

My dad's girlfriend had a birthday. Apparently, I was the good (step)daughter and remembered to call on her birthday (Cozi.com calendar FTW -- again!). Bruise, Bucket, and I serenaded the answering machine.
Her other kids and mom called the next day, and the day after. But they all DID call. Phew!

Bruise was selected to be one of the students of the month at their school -- for displaying honesty. The boy is ALL about being fair. And, USUALLY, he's quite truthful. Unless he and Bucket team up and steal food they shouldn't be getting into.

Bucket was rather a punk about it, "Why is HE student of the month and I'm NOT?!?? It's not FAIR that HE'S been it TWICE now and I've only been it ONCE!!"

(Well, I've been alerted that a certain whiny girl has been selected for displaying Self-Reliance ... but don't tell her!)

We went up to OMSI on Friday and got to go to the Mythbusters exhibit. Bruise sat on a chair that Adam Savage designed to capture farts for an episode. There were some fun experiments to do (I can ALMOST pull a tablecloth off without disturbing the plates) and lots of memorabilia from the show to see.

Michael did see about getting tickets for when Neil Gaiman comes to Portland to speak this summer ... sold out. Oh well ... The tickets WERE a little pricey, BUT they covered the book that he'd be speaking about, too.

Besides Conference, we didn't do a whole ton of stuff.
I baked cinnamon rolls ... took some to some neighbors.
We had biscuits and gravy for breakfast on Saturday.
I made Chicken Tikka and a Turmeric-Coconut rice for dinner ... which Bruise and Bucket didn't care for, but Bubbles ate with gusto!
(Bucket thought she'd be clever and put her chicken in the garbage and then claim she was done eating. TROUBLE. She had to eat MORE chicken AND some of the rice. Which she cried through, because --obviously -- I am a mean, mean mother, making my child eat and punishing her for lying.)

By that point, I was just really, really DONE being a parent. I just wanted to go somewhere quiet and cry. Which was even more sad, since I had finally started feeling better, spiritually, due to Conference. And then I felt like a jerk, being tired of my kids.

Oh well.
Doesn't help that I have the angry bees of  PMS buzzing in my brain.

Today, I went to an appointment for Bubbles -- she's healthy and has a healthy iron level. She's just tiny.
Then we went home ... and she ate and took a nap.
Talked to Dad on the phone.
One of my friends from high school (that I hadn't talked to in a long while) called up to wish me a happy (early) birthday. It was a good chat.

Some sad news is that my brother-in-law and his wife's cat (who they got shortly after they got married ... so  M-cat is around 12 or so) has cancer. The vet has given her a week, since there's fluid around her lungs, which makes breathing difficult.
I'm going to take the kids up to give her some loves and to say goodbye.

About this time last year (tomorrow, actually), we had to take Sari-Jasmine, the hedgehog, to be put to sleep. Self-mutilating ... and a huge tumor in her mouth.

After that ... and how Bubbles-fish died on Valentine's Day (and Iris II not long after), I'm starting to think that I'm cursed when it comes to animals and holidays/birthdays (Gingi-cat went on Mom and my stepdad's anniversary. Diana-cat right before Christmas Eve ... but those were a few years ago).

I've started using the Duolingo website/app/program/whatever. Some of my friends are using it ... so, who am I to avoid an educational bandwagon?
I'm refreshing my German (and Bruise and Bucket like to watch ... they're picking up bits of it, too!) and learning Spanish.
I can't have the kids around when I do the Spanish. Bucket, ever helpful, GIVES me the answers ... whether I want her to or not (I don't. Because I need to learn this for myself).

But I'm starting to learn Spanish a bit. I REALLY need to learn/memorize the rules of Spanish conjugation. (German, I've got that. But I don't really know the pronouns and verb forms at all in Spanish.)

This site does a different approach to teaching a foreign language than my German classes did. In class, we'd go through the alphabet, numbers, some vocabulary, the rules of grammar ... some common phrases ... then we started really getting into it.

With this program, I feel more like I've been tossed into a pool and I only know how to doggy paddle. It's a challenge. But I'm going to do it. Because I should know Spanish. There are enough Spanish-speakers around that I need to learn it. And, well, it'd be nice to learn it well enough to volunteer in BOTH kids' classes (instead of just the English-speaking class ... since it's a dual-immersion program at school).

So ... yeah.

Also, how did I never know about this before!?!? There's a page on Facebook that gives you a Book of Mormon reading assignment (all typed out, even) every day (Book of Mormon Daily). They even have it divided up so that, if you read every day, you'll get through the entire book in a year.

Today's reading was Mosiah 3:19 -4:3 ... and, as I read it, some things occured to me (and since I don't have a scripture journal, nor have I yet started a blog to do that, I'm putting it here):

• Mosiah 3:19-20 ... These concepts were covered quite a bit in General Conference.
  The natural man is an enemy to God ... We need to be like a child (meek, submissive, teachable, willing to let the will of our Heavenly Father guide us, instead of trying to be in charge.)
  The gospel will be available to all nations, all people.
• Mosiah 3:24-27 ... I think that it's in C.S. Lewis's "Great Divorce" where it's discussed that if we make a habit of sinning instead of being saints, that we won't feel comfortable/right/happy to be in God's presence.
  This goes even further -- if we sin and choose not to repent, we disregard the Atonement of Christ. And, therefore, without His mercy to fulfill the demands of justice, we will suffer the effects and consequences of all our sins. Hell isn't a place someone sends us ... it is a place of our own making. If we are humble, we will repent ... we will forsake pride and accept the gift that Christ has offered us. Then we will be able to be cleansed from our sins and joyfully enter the presence of our loving Heavenly Father.
• Mosiah 4:1-3 ... Well, it's fitting to be in these verses, since King Benjamin's sermon to his people is very much like our modern-day General Conference. And his people, at first, felt terrible, due to the recollections they had of their sins ... but, then, they were able to repent and feel joy.
  In fact, having "peace of conscience" was mentioned in one of the Conference talks.

So, yeah, there's my insights.
Now it's time to get back to being a mom again.

Musings

I spent the majority of yesterday feeling sad ... like two steps from tears.

It's just so ... I just don't want to believe that anything like that COULD happen, let alone that it DID happen.

My Facebook feed is full of people expressing their sorrow and compassion for the children and school personnel who were killed, and their support of the families and community involved. There are pledges being made to hug our own children more ... as there are many families that aren't able to do so.

There are people making calls for stronger gun laws (however, where it happened, the state gun laws are stronger than most).
I maintain that it's important that we have our Second Amendment rights ... Now, do we need, as a civilian population, to have assault rifles? Probably not.
I also maintain that these last two shootings are proof of how our nation is failing at handling mental health issues. If we removed the stigma AND increased the availability of care (especially emergency care), events like these might be avoided.

But the posts on Facebook that hurt most are the ones that ask "How can people believe that there's a loving God if He lets things like this happen. And then people say it's God's will. If there was a God, wouldn't He stop these things before they even start?"

And ... well, that's where faith does help. Even during a trial of faith.

If you don't believe in God, an event like this is harder to handle.

• Men and women who invested a lot of energy and emotion into their offspring have an empty return.
• They'll never see each other again.
• Chemical imbalances (or something) along with the existence of firearms results in the unpreventable loss of life.
• Etc.

Now, I can see why people will ask how God could allow this to happen.
And, with my understanding of the gospel, I can start to make an explanation. However, since I don't know everything, it is a limited explanation.

• We have a loving Heavenly Father. He is all-knowing and all-powerful.
• We are His spirit children. He loves each and every one of us. He wants the best for us.
• It is important to Him that we have a mortal experience, to be tested and tried, so that we can learn to be like Him. Eventually, we will have opportunity to be like Him, truly.
• As part of this mortal experience, we must have the ability to discern between good and evil. We need to be able to make choices, to have free agency.
  Without the ability to choose for ourselves, we cannot learn.
• Every one of His children who comes to earth has the same gift of free agency.
• Our choices have the potential to affect others ... it's not only having an effect on ourselves.
• The effect of others' choices often gives us important learning experiences ... and we should take the opportunities for learning and growth when offered (or else there will be other, tougher lessons ... since we do NEED to learn and grow).
• Heavenly Father also knew that we all would make poor choices, at one point or another. We would sin. And that sin would separate us forever from Him, as a spiritual death. We also would, with our mortal bodies, be subject to physical death.
  He knew that to overcome spiritual and physical death, we needed a savior.

When, in the preexistence, before any of us came to earth, there was a council in Heaven. Heavenly Father presented this plan, where we could grow to become like Him.
When He told us that a redeemer was needed, two of His children volunteered.
Lucifer proclaimed that he would make everyone be good. No one would ever be hurt or sad. No one would ever sin. Everyone would return to Heavenly Father. ... And, in return, Lucifer would receive the glory for his part of the plan.
Jesus also volunteered. He would allow us the freedom to choose, knowing that there would be consequences for those choices. There would be pain and sadness. ... However, he would come to earth and take the effects of our sins upon himself. He would suffer and die for us so that we could repent and live with our Heavenly Father again.

As I said above, we needed to have the freedom to choose for ourselves. Without the ability to choose, how could we learn? How could we prove, to ourselves, that we can be like our Heavenly Father?

And (as you probably know. Or deduced), Jesus was chosen.
There were other spirit children who followed Lucifer as he rebelled. They were cast out ... they never received mortal bodies. They are unable to progress ... they are damned. They, however, do hae the power to influence those of us with mortal bodies. They, along with Lucifer (now Satan), have the power to tempt us, to lead us astray.
They are miserable with the knowledge of what they gave up ... Their goal is to prevent us from progressing, to prevent our return to Heavenly Father's presence.

Jesus came to earth as the Messiah. He came humbly, born to a virgin, in a stable. His bloodline was that of the king of the Jews. He lived a sinless life, with the power and ability to bless, to command nature. He taught, through his sinless example, how we should live. He withstood temptation. He was hated and mocked by some. Others followed him and his teachings.
And, in time, he prayed for us in the garden of Gethsemane. He took upon himself all the sins of all the worlds, creating an infinite Atonement.
He was beaten and mocked and crucified for no crime. He allowed himself to die.
After three days, he was resurrected. He appeared to those he loved ... he proved that he was alive be eating and by letting them touch him. He then appeared to his followers on the other side of the earth -- He blessed them and established his church in the Americas. Then He returned to His father's presence, having completed all the work He was sent to do.

And He will come again. And when He does, it will be good.
We know, from the writings of the prophets (ancient and modern), that the world is going to be a complete mess. And, well, it's pretty much there.
So ... we just need to keep the faith and stay strong. This will end and we have wonderful things to look forward to.

Because of the Atonement, everything will be made right in the end.
Justice demands a price ... and it will be met.
Mercy is made possible through Jesus's suffering. If we allow Him, through our faith in Him, and by repenting, He takes upon himself the effects of our sins. We pay a much lower price as he takes our stripes for us.
Through His death and resurrection, we are able to overcome death. We will be made perfect. We can be reunited with our loved ones.
We also have the blessings that come from the covenants that we make in the temple ... that our family bonds are not broken upon death. Heavenly Father's plan for us is not "til death do you part," but eternal. Families can be together forever.

These are huge and wonderful blessings that are offered to us.

And ... that is how I know that we have a loving God.
Yes, He allows us to choose for ourselves. Because He loves us.
Yes, bad things will happen to everyone. That does not mean that he does not love us.
(Think of it this way -- would you appreciate your parents putting you in a bubble and monitoring every move made around you, picking out all your friends, what you can read, what you can think? Even if you knew that it would prevent anything bad happening to you? Really? ... If so, then maybe you're better than I am. I have an independent streak.)
AND, because He knows that bad things happen ... and that we bring some of them upon ourselves ... and that our choices and actions do affect others, He has made it possible for everything to be made right.

And, when you think of the horrible, terrible choices that others make that affect so many others, you have to remember that Heavenly Father allows them to make choices and doesn't kill them off as soon as they have a bad thought BECAUSE He is giving them the opportunity to repent. To come back on their own. To try and  make things better/right.

There are awful things that happen. People are killed, tortured, raped, beaten ... and many, many other things  happen. Miscarriages. Sexual Abuse. Bullying. Natural disasters.

Heavenly Father doesn't allow these things to happen because He doesn't care.
He allows them to happen ... even though I know that it causes Him intense sorrow to see his children doing these things to each other.
It's not because he can't stop it ... He allows us to make our choices. Even when it's not what He wants us to do or when He knows that it's something we shouldn't do.

But ... there is always hope.
He sent His son to make things right.
Everything will be made right in the end. All justice will be fulfilled. Mercy will be extended.
All wrongs will be made right. All sorrows will cease. All will be well.

We just have to be patient and keep the faith.

If we follow the commandments of the Lord, if we keep the covenants we have made as perfectly as we can, we will be blessed. And we will bless others.
(If we don't murder people, aren't we preventing their pain? And the pain of their families and friends? And that's just one example.)

When I start to get discouraged, I find myself remembering these words:

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

(From The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis)

Which is especially fitting, since it is Christian allegory (spoiler!).

But ... Heavenly Father loves us. He has given us the ability to have everything made right. We can be assured that things will be better. Even though it can be hard right now. But things will be better.
We shall have spring again after this winter of suffering.

This is my life ...

So, Monday, Bruise didn't have his homework folder so I emailed his teacher.

Turns out he turned it in early ... so we were able to reschedule the talk about personal responsibility.

Yesterday, I got the kids off to school and threw on clothes to go to Zumba. I had to get Bubbles from her nap ... which meant that we left without filling her belly. This will come into play in a bit.

At the church, where we do our Zumba, the missionaries were using the Cultural Hall/gym for an activity ... so we were moved to the Primary (children's group) room.
Also, instead of there only being about eight ladies, there were over ten of us (plus a group of around six or seven kids, 6 month - 5 years, playing) all stuffed in the room.

We got through the warm up. We got through almost all of another song ... and I look over to where Bubbles (usually a very happy child) is screaming. (I didn't notice her screaming earlier since another little boy was screaming. Louder.) ... Well, I'm not totally sure what was happening, but she was laying down and another little boy was over her, almost laying on her. Maybe she fell? Maybe he knocked her over trying to kiss her ... Either way, she was MAD and/or scared.

So I go and pick her up. I hold her until she's calmed down. I set her back down for the little playdate ... and she is NOT. HAVING. ANY. OF. THIS. CRAP.

Well, I was being (overly) optimistic and left the Moby wrap in the car. And there's NO WAY that I can hold a 15-lb baby in my arms and jump/do choreographed moves (on carpet, no less).
So ... we left.
And I felt like a bit of a loser.

Because how'm I supposed to lose weight and get in shape at all (since it's OBVIOUSLY NOT GONNA HAPPEN by my friend's wedding in two weeks) if I can't even stay through a whole class?
... especially when I may or may not have eaten ice cream for breakfast. I plead the fifth on that one.

But, yeah. So, even though I've barely done ANYTHING, I'm all flushed and sweating ... and Bubbles and I drop off some books and pick up my hold at the library.
Then we go home and I feed her and put her back in her bed so I can get a shower.

About an hour later, after chatting with a friend online, I load up Bubbles and we head into the next town to go to a bra shop ... since ... okay, here's the deal:

Last week, I decided that I was taking the extender off the back of my nursing bra. I prefer my bands tight, so I can get support. And having that extra inch wasn't helping.
Of course, that made the cups tighter (stupid ratio. Stupid boobs.) ... and I noticed that one of my breasts was REALLY SORE. And I started getting REALLY WORRIED.
I didn't think is was Mastitis (been there, done that, experienced the flu-like symptoms and blood in my milk, took the antibiotics ... where's my merit badge, dang it??), since it wasn't a sharp pain. Just this dull, all-consuming, ache.

Then I wised up, put the stupid extender back on the band ... and, within a day, I was feeling back to normal.

So ... OBVIOUSLY that bra (which is/was my BEST-fitting nursing bra) was not cutting it. Ugh.

Which brings us to going to the bra store...

I had to search for a parking spot, since I was dumb and got there during the lunch hour. Spent WAAAAAY too long circling the blocks to get a parking spot. But I found one ... and Bubbles, who HAD been asleep nearly the whole drive woke up. *sigh*

Still, I threw (figuratively) her carseat into the stroller and walked to the shop.
I was able to get in immediately and the gal there fitted me for a bra.

Unfortunately, I'm busty enough that most companies don't make my size. ... And, when they do make the correct CUP size, it's not paired with the right band size.
Still, there's a little wiggle room (go down a cup size with a larger band size ... it'll still fit. Like buying a size 9 shoe when there's not a 8W, if you follow).

But, I was able to leave with a spendy bra that fits and will look better under the dress I'll be wearing at my friend's wedding.
I was REALLY hoping that they'd have an underwire that'd work, since I kinda NEED the structure to avoid the uniboob look ... but, well, until I lose about two cup sizes ... yeah.
Which leads me to tell you that I am not a fan of my boobs.
My husband likes them ... and they perform their purpose of lactation well ... but, if it weren't for that last one (Sorry, Michael), if I had the opportunity, I'd have them reduced in a second. ... They're in the way and, according to most bra companies, apparently they're freakish in size. ... Yeah. I'm not loving my body right now.

Between my, apparently, freakishly-sized boobs and my fat deposits hanging from my stomach ... Let's just say that I know my friend loves me, since she asked me to be a bridesmaid ... and, in comparison, I'm the largest one there (except not in height ... so I can't be thinking it's just to scale or something).

But, really ... if you can walk into any store, find a bra on the racks, and pay less than $30 for a bra that contains you, let along supports and lifts? ... I almost hate you. I mean, I don't HATE you ... but I'm so very jealous.
I mean, I used to be able to do that ... but not so much at all this last decade.

It's really, really dumb.

And, I realized that the last pair of jeans I bought ... The back pockets are all wrong, so they're not flattering to my butt.

I know, I know. I'm totally whining. I should be very happy to have a body that WORKS ... and, for the most part, it does! Unless I think about it ... or want to feel that I look nice.

There's a REASON why, instead of shopping for clothes, I prefer shoes or nail polish or make-up or hair-colors or books ... because those things look nice regardless of your size.
I've never had to wonder if a book or polish color made my butt look wider or would manage to button over my ginormous rack.

I hate to think that I let myself go after getting married ... but, well, body-wise, there's really no other way to explain it. Unless I suddenly developed some grandular malfunction ... Which, I suppose COULD be the case.

But, really, if I hear ANYONE talking about how awesome it'd be to have big boobs ... I'm going to need help restraining myself from loudly telling her how absolutely and completely stupid that is.
(Seriously, almost every friend I have is smaller than I am ... and if possible, I'd have SHARED THE WEALTH ... GLADLY.)

But, yeah ...
This obviously is one of those posts in which I fail to be very funny. At all.

Still ... one of my BIG problems is that I don't love exercising. Maybe because I never have a proper sports bra that fits well (maybe I should call up the bra shop and see if they've got one?) ...
Still, if you have a workout that you LOVE ... how's about sharing the wealth?

In return, I can offer book recommendations, polish recommendations ... and the like. Or just jokes. I know a few elephant jokes ...

But, really ... I NEED some exercise that I enjoy better than cheesecake and ice cream and Nutella.
Does such a workout exist??

Since Our Last Episode ...

Okay ... I THINK Bubbles is going to stay down for a nap while I type this.

And then Bucket asks if she can have potato chips for breakfast. Ha! As if!
(I may be a bit lenient in some things ... but ... no. Not potato chips.)

So, what all has gone on ... Let's see.

Monday, Michael came home early and we picked up (and paid for the repair of) the truck. Back to having two vehicles. Phew!
He took the kiddos home in the truck and Bubbles and I went to Target to pick up some groceries and things.
Michael worked at trimming the grass until the Weed Whacker quit (might have to get a new one. No idea).
And we went out and bought fireworks.
(I don't know that we'll do BoomTown again ... there were QUITE A FEW duds in the assortment that we got. The sparklers in that assortment were pretty pathetic, so it happens.)

Tuesday, Bruise had a dental appointment, so we headed out that away. And stopped by WalMart to pick up the last of the groceries for feeding the missionaries that night.
I made a pudding pie -- graham cracker crust, strawberry cream-flavored pudding, and strawberry glaze on the top. For dinner, we had grilled chicken, salad, and watermelon (I think that was it. It's been a few days).
I like when we get to feed the elders (even when I'm dashing about cleaning the house like a MANIAC, which I had been), because we get to talk to them and get to know them better.
(And, hey, the house is a HECKUVA LOT CLEANER. Which is nice.)
The kids and I also went downtown to get some more stamps on their scavenger hunt. Just a few more to go! Pretty exciting!

Wednesday, we went to the Farmers' Market, then to the Dollar Store (for candy), then to Michael's folks' house (to drop off Bubbles), then to watch Brave (we liked it. The kids want to buy it NOW so we can watch it again). Then we went back to Michael's folks' place (to pick up Bubbles and) to eat tacos with the family.
We headed home and did fireworks in front of our house ... and got to see some of the neighbors' fireworks. And caught a glimpse of some larger fireworks (some legally done by the county ... and some ...NOT).
I had a headache and Bubbles was hungry, so I bowed out early and went in and fed her.
Once we got her laid down (in her bed, even, not just the swing!), she slept through the night. Which was very nice.

Yesterday, Bubbles had her four-month appointment. She's up to ALLLLLLMOST 13 pounds and is just over 24 inches long. Her doctor looked her over and pronounced her a beautiful, healthy baby.
Bruise's Molluscum are nearly gone. Bucket's are working their way through. Bubbles does not have ANY. (And I'd like to keep it that way, thankyouverymuch.)

Now, since I read a Tumblr and I have friends who love the series, I'm passably familiar with Doctor Who. Michael and I are now watching the series together. (And, while chatting about it last night, I was able to accurately guess how many seasons Tennant and Smith have done.) So, we're about halfway through Season One of the newer series (with Eccleston). He really DOES say "fantastic" a LOT.

In other news, Google announced that, come November next year (2013), they're retiring iGoogle ... which Michael and I have LOVED as our homepages (on our respective computers/accounts) since it launched.
So, I'm now setting up a protopage ... which is a lot LIKE iGoogle. So, I hope it'll be suitable. Still, it's sad.

As I was driving us back from Bubble's appointment yesterday, I was hit (SO hard!) by a wave of nostalgia. I'm in my thirties now. And I just wanted (SO badly!) to go back to being around Bruise and Bucket's age. Back when everything seemed so much simpler.
Back when my cousin S and I were always hanging together during the summer.
We'd play in the wading pool at Nana and Pop-pop's. Or get to "help" drive the riding lawnmower with Pop-pop. Nana would feed us fresh strawberries with cream and sugar on top. She'd give us a bath and then dry us off with a hair dryer and powder our skin with a puff. We'd play dress up with her old nightgowns and use her umbrellas as parasols (I wonder whatever happened to the one that we'd fight over? One was a plain black umbrella. The other was [so wonderful!] a dusky lavender umbrella with a white handle that ended as a swan's head. Like a more elegant version of Mary Poppins' umbrella).
I miss going to the Pinecone (restaurant) for ice cream with my dad. Or going to the 76 Station so he could talk to his friends working there and I'd get a soda out of the machine in the office.
I miss the smell of the town Drug Store (it STILL smells the same. Still. I can walk into that pharmacy and, for a second, I am a child again ... a lot of the stock has changed. But never the smell. What will I ever do when it gets torn down or turns into something else??).
I miss the smell of Javelin's health food store (it, too smells the same. Even though his daughter and I are all grown up, moved away, and have our own children).
I miss waking up to the sunlight slanting in my window and the smell of a summer's morning filling the air. I miss the possibilities -- I could read all day. I could go play in the creek. I could go to Nana's house. I could maybe go to S's house. Or play down the street with Heather or the Brinkerdinks (not their real last name ... but one of the Bishopric members later? He couldn't pronounce most people's names. And we always got a chuckle out of some of the mistakes. Strangely enough, he always got my name PERFECT). ... I could walk down to the elementary school and play on the playground ... I miss all of that.

And, there I was, driving home and missing everything SO. MUCH.
I was fighting back tears for a minute or so.

I wish I knew of a way to bottle up those scents. I'd bottle up the drug store. And the health food store. And Nana and Pop-pop's attic (since it was always SO SPECIAL to get to play up there. Even with the threat of rats).
... At least, with the carnation-scented oil I do have, I get to smell a bit of my childhood, a patch of carnations that grew in our yard. They always smelled AMAZING. These little pink flowers with dark magenta stripes ... all spicy and lovely-smelling. Carnations from the florist never smell nearly as nice. Which is such a disappointment. If you haven't smelled a carnation NOT from the florist's, you're so missing out.
You should change that. Post haste.

What a tangent ... but, well, isn't that why you read this blog?

Regardless, I am missing family that have left me behind shuffled off this mortal coil before I was ready to let them go.
I'm not able to remember their voices as much as I want to.(Oh, but when Grandpa C's brother talks? It's so close. And ... well, I forget how much I miss hearing Grandpa's voice. Even though it's only been a few years.) I do have a video I made (back when I was SO MUCH MORE ANNOYING. Seriously, it's a testament of love that I have ANY friends or family who put up with me back then) with Pop-pop talking a little in it. ... I don't have anything with Grandma Darlene's voice, though. ... And it's been almost 16 years since I saw her last.

Okay, I need to wrap this up. I should eat breakfast. And make sure that we have something ready for lunch. And Bubbles is waking up again (after either filling her diaper or just passing a ton of gas).
... And I have a cat on my lap. I shouldn't go anywhere. ... But I do have things that need doing. ... So I'll get them done after I have some time with my sweet, purring Freyja-cat.