Tales of Moving

I have learned so much that I wanted to share from our moving experience,

that I actually wrote "keywords" to remind me of different events and thoughts

down on a white board.

Marvelous things,

Funny things,

Inspirational things.

Then, I placed that whiteboard on the fridge,

and got back to unpacking,

thinking that when I got a chance,

I would go to that whiteboard and start blogging those magnificent ideas.

I should've put a 24 hour security guard on the whiteboard,

because one of the yahoos was inspired by my notes

and then without notice

erased them all.

So I may not be able to relive and relish every moment

that our move inspired,

but the important stuff is still rollin' around my noggin

and that's what I'm gonna try to get on this page

before it too is lost to the X-files of my mind.

~~~~~

Monday, a week before the closing,

our mortgage guy calls and says

it doesn't look like we're going to get the loan

we wanted--

it had a lower interest rate that we not only wanted

but needed to make this deal work.

He called Mr. W at work 

then Mr. W called me at home.

Mr. W was feelin' blue.

He's said since, that he didn't think we'd really be able to get into a home

this year....that he thought we'd have to have alot more money to put down

to get into the kind of home we're accustomed to.

But he didn't tell me that back then.

He kept that little gem to himself.

So when he got the call from Kevin, our mortgage guy,

he said he wasn't surprised,

but felt badly for me.

Well, see the thing about this is,

I didn't know what to do except call the kids to my room,

gather them at the foot of my bed,

and pray for those that were working on this loan for us.

We prayed for the mortgage people on our end,

and the bank people,

and the home owners who were anxious to get this debt off their shoulders

as it's a Short Sale home,

and we prayed that if this wasn't going to be a blessing for our family,

then we'd gratefully pass on the opportunity

and look with hope and clarity on the horizon

for the blessings our Heavenly Father has instore for us.

Yes, we cried.

We'd already set our hopes on this little house.

We're tired of the feelings of being homeless as we've been renting for 5 years

as the Lord had directed us to do.

We wanted our own place.

So we were sad.

At first, Kevin said that if we came up with 8k more,

we could get that loan--

well, we didn't have it,

and we know of noone that we could even ask to borrow it from...

but here's the deal:

Heavenly Father already knew that.

I knew that He knew that.

So if this was going to work,

then He was going to have to make it so.

I turned to the scriptures,

I just said a little prayer that I would read something

that would comfort me 

and then I opened to

Mark 4--

where we read about Jesus and His Disciples

entering a ship and once they're out in the sea

a great tempest storm starts tossing them about--

so much so that waves are crashing on the ship

and the Disciples are so afraid 

that they wake a sleeping Jesus.

"Carest thou not that we perish?"
And he arose, and rebuked the wind,
and said to the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased,
and there was great calm.
And he said unto them,
Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?

I read that sacred story again and again.

I called the children to the dining room 

and read it to them.

I read it to Mr. W that night after dinner.

And I kept my scriptures open to that page

for the rest of the week.

I called my oldest children and my best friend 

and asked them to remember us in their prayers.

We kept packing the house up.

I had an appointment with our mortgage guy on Wednesday,

where he and I spent an hour talking about faith

and trust in God's love and plan for His children.

When I left his office,

he and I both felt uplifted by the experience.

I told him we were praying for him and the underwriters,

and the homeowners and the loan officers.

That brought tears to his eyes.

He may have known alot about Mormons' lifestyles--

but after our meeting, 

I hope he knows alot more about faith.

By Friday,

Kevin called me,

his voice was filled with electricity:

"We got it! We got the loan!"

The next Monday, as Mr. W and I were driving to the 

Title company's office for the closing,

Mr. W shared that he was surprised that we were actually 

doing this on that day in this year.

And that he felt "foolish" for not having more faith.

I said we all had our faith tested and rewarded in this experience

and that's what this life is all about.

After the closing,

Kevin smiled and said to Mr W:

"You've got a diamond right there". (pointing to me)

His compliment filled my heart--

he had done his best for us,

and our experience together blessed us all.

I can't say I've ever had that experience with a 

mortgage broker,

but there you have it.

Look, I know home ownership isn't the be-all-end-all

of life in this world--

but for my heart,

it means more than I can say.

I have always felt like a bit alone--

my parents are not in my life,

Mr. W's parents are deceased,

we do not have extended family that is involved

in our lives beyond occasional

"hey, what's up?" and Christmas cards.

So a home to me,

means security.

The Lord knows this about me.

And He knows that I am completely dependent upon Him

for every thing in my life.

If there's a moral to this story,

it might be well-said from a quote by

Neil A. Maxwell:

"Faith in God includes faith in God's timing."

The night after we started moving in,

our family gathered together in the new diningroom,

surrounded by moving boxes, 

and we knelt in a little circle and dedicated our new home

to our Heavenly Father.

We asked that our home be filled with His Spirit,

that we will make it a sacred place for all of us,

a refuge from the world,

and always a blessing in our lives.

We acknowledged our Heavenly Father's hand in our lives

and expressed our love to Him.

And then we stood, hugged, and started unpacking.

This is our home, 

through the blessed efforts of many,

this is our home.

(pics have been taken, but I can't find the usb cord thingy to transfer the pics off my camera!)

Last Day of School: Tissue, Please

Friday was the last day of school for my yahoos.
The last day.
Where has the year gone??
It just flew by, really.

I took the afternoon off from work
so I could attend Ari's class party
and help out with field games.
And also be a part of the
"Fifth Grade Clap Out".

I'd never done this in years' past,
in fact, never heard of it before,
but since Joseph is a fifth grader,
well, you know.

So this is how it went down:
All of the other students,
teachers, staff,
and parents
gather in a long line outside
and then the 5th graders
stream past everyone
giving high-fives and clapping hands
in celebration of the end of elementary school
for them.

Turns out this little ritual is quite emotional,
as many of the girls were teary-eyed
and even a few boys.
Then before I knew it,
I had a lump in my throat too.
I am such a sap!
I didn't, ya know, outright CRY
but man,
I felt like I coulda if I wanted to.
Sheesh.

When Joseph came around,
his face was stoic--
no emotion other than a look that said,
"this is no dang fun."

As soon as he got to the end of the line,
he circled around and came to me with a big hug and a
"let's go."
So we looked back over our shoulders
at the crowd of mushy parents, teachers and kiddos
and decided we'd better get the heck outta there
before we were one big pile of mush ourselves.

What happened to the days of busting through the school doors
yelling,
"YEA!!! NO MORE SCHOOL!!" ??
So much drama for elementary school.

IN the car on the way home
the conversation naturally turned to the scene we'd just left--
where Joseph admitted he was "a little annoyed" by all the drama
because he too, felt "like cryin' a little" towards the end.
He declared it was the best year ever due to an awesome teacher
who loves Shakespeare so much he has his students put on a performance
every year--
and those students love it so much
that they return with their parents long after they've left the classroom
going onto middle school and high school,
just so they can enjoy a Night of Shakespeare
with Mr.Hinkle, community legend.

I listened while both Joseph and Arianna
shared their days ups and downs,
reminisced about favorites--
everything from friends to lunchroom "fettucine alfredo";
and what they were looking forward to this summer.

Just about the time we were getting close to home,
Joseph grinned and said,
"Right when I was leaving,
a girl came up and gave me a hug.
Then she whispered in my ear,
"I've had a crush on you all year."

Did I mention he's using "axe" body wash?
And did I mention I am not having to threaten him
to shower
lately?

When I asked what's her name,
he grinned and did the motion of
locking his lips with an invisible key.

Mums the word.

Yeah.

And can you imagine the courage (!) that little gal mustered
to get those words outta her mouth?!

Sheesh.
Where's a tissue?

It's Hard to Smile with Clenched Teeth

Mother's Day weekend was awesome.
AWESOME!
We took a little road trip to visit Dean
in northern Colorado.

I wish so much I'd had my camera in my hand
when his caregiver led us to him--
he was out in the pasture petting their horse
all by himself.
When he turned and saw us,
his face, indeed his whole countenance was so calm and happy.
I haven't seen him look that way in a very long time.
He hurried over to us all smiles and gave us all big hugs.
Then, very purposefully, he said,
"I'm staying here."
I understood exactly what he meant.
"Yes, you are."

He took all the kids on a tour of the grounds--
introducing them to "Lucky" the horse,
the pigs, the chickens,
the dog,
and back around a couple more times.

We just all hung out with his caregiving family,
and it felt so relaxed and genuine.
We asked if they'd be our caregivers too.

We took Dean into Fort Collins to his fav restaurant--
Red Robinnnnnn....YUMMMMMMMM.
And over to a park to hang out for a little bit.
Fort Collins has a lovely Spring--
they're lower in elevation than Colorado Springs,
so all of their trees are blooming and the grass is already green
everywhere you look.
Mr W and I talked about moving back up there someday
once the yahoos are out of school.
We prefer the school system here which is the major reason
we moved back down here
when we left Idaho.
Anyway, our Saturday afternoon with Dean was perfect.
I love that boy.

Clenched teeth.
Well, before we left to see Dean Saturday morning,
we went to check out a house in our area.
It's a house I've had my eye on since last Fall,
but it was outta our price range.
Then, there was a contract on it,
so I just forgot about it.
mostly.
Well, on Friday night, it popped back up on the MLS
and I emailed my realtor to get the details.
Not only was it back on the market,
but
it's priced 30k less than before!
She set up a showing for us Saturday morning.
We took the yahoos with us b/c we're on our way outta town
anyway, and they went nuts.
Loved the house.
It is pretty darn cute.
We talked about it,
then last night, Mr W and I prayed about it,
and have gone forward and put an offer on it.
That's why my stomach is trembly,
I can't sleep (it's a little before 4am)
and my teeth are clenched.

I hate buying a home.
It has got to be one of the most miserable experiences in life.
I'd rather have a root canal.
I'd rather have three root canals.

I'm self-talking/coaching all day long inside my head:
"it'll be okay."
"if it's meant to be, it'll work out."
"be patient in the process."
and on and on.
I get sick of listening to my self so much,
that I talk back--
"What if it's not okay?"
"Are you doing everything you can?"
"I feel sick to my stomach."
"The MONEY!"

Ugh. I'm pathetic.

I'm focused on other things--
in fact,
you could say I have many irons in the fire...
the yahoos are at the end of the school year--
which means concerts,
dance performances,
recitals,
plays,
ceremonies,
finals, etc.
We're talking about summer plans
with the house;
with family;
Dani and Mr. Idaho's summer internship in Houston
and their baby boy that'll be born there;
and
I'm pitching my home staging business to
an entire Keller Williams real estate team
this morning,
in exactly 5 and a half hours.
Power-point presentation even.
Daisie helped me make it, of course.
She likes it when she knows how to do something that I don't.
Whipper-snappers these days.
I need to go back to sleep,
but I can't for all the noise in between my ears!

I hope the presentation goes well.
Mainly, I hope I can smile with clenched teeth
and don't pass out or puke in a room full of strangers.
Cuz, ya know, noone wants to see that.

Cross your fingers and toes for me, please.

I'm a Kindness Copycat, Are You?

Yesterday at work,
I overheard another co-worker--
"Thank you so much!", she said.

It wasn't to me.
In fact, I'm not sure whom the expression
was expressed to,
because I was helping a customer--
but I smiled and got the warm fuzzies.
I commented to the customer,
whod' also heard--
and we both agreed that
gratitude
is contagious.

You know those "Liberty Mutual" commercials
where they show the domino-effect
of kindness?




There's also the commercials from
Foundation for A Better Life
at Values.com...
love those too
as they sweetly inspire me to be my best self
out in the world.

The truth is,
I confess, I am a
Kindness Copycatter.
Really, I'm not very original at all,
but lemme see with my own two eyes
an act of kindness, generosity, graciousness and the like,
and the next thing I know,
I'm doing it too!
I'm at peace with my copycat ways--
you know what they say,
"if you can't Be,
then you Teach."--
totally cool with that.

Kindness Copycat-ness.
Pass It On.


And this one-- for Kristina P.--
just because.

Things That Inspire Me: Lists, Books and Give-O-Giveaways

It's a quiet morning here on this side of the Rockies.

The clouds are hanging so low

that the hillsides are hidden beneath them.

The house is quiet too,

after Spring Break everyone's back to school.

It's just me and the dog

and a small pile of laundry that's calling my name.

Since Nana left last week,

she's called daily to share her adventures with us.

Before she left,

we both sat down and created "The List"--

if you're a woman and you're reading this,

I know you made your own List when you were young,

right?

1. Sense of humor.

2. Honest.

3. Respectful.

and on and on it goes...

The List contains the finer points of character we want in a companion.

Nana wrote her own list years ago,

when she was just a teenager

but as she's changed, 

so has her List.

So we sat together, and I tapped out on the keys

while she dictated, 

then we printed it up in a smaller font

so she could fold that little paper up

and keep it close

as she goes out in the college scene dating world.

At 6:38 Saturday morning the phone rang

and I jumped outta bed knowing it was Nana!

You know, there should be a different ring tone

for Emergency calls,

and "Hey, Mom, I'm up early and just wanted to hear your voice"-calls.

Just saying.

After a few minutes,

she said she was out in her car,

reading "The List"--

because she'd been away from home just 24 hours

and a few young men were coming on pretty strong 

so much so

that she needed to sort them out, 

if you will.

What sort surprised me

was that some of these young men are well into their 20's-almost 30's--

Nana will be 21 next Fall.

Some 30 year old comes along,

and I wanna poke him in the eye 

or

ping him with a baseball bat!

Unless he's willing to sit through an hour or two

of interrogation--

then we can talk. lol

I digress...

so Nana had her list in her car

and was out there reading it

at six-thirty in the morning.

She's a small town girl

who doesn't wanna get her head turned

in the first twenty-four hours away from home.

So she's reading her list

and talking to her Mom.

At 6:38am.

I miss her.

More than pie.

Speaking of Lists,

Daisie is stepping up being Numero Uno around here.

Hey, she's #5 in the line-up,

but now that she's the oldest at home,

we all wondered how she'd handle it

and I must say,

I'm impressed!

While I have had to work,

she has made sure that I came home to a reasonably sane house--

dishes done,

clutter free,

cookies made,

and youngest yahoos still breathing.
And she made a list too--
a Chore List with just the 3 yahoos' names on it.
I really appreciated that.

She's really coming into her own.

It's actually inspiring.
*********************

Speaking of Inspiring--

I received two beautiful goodies from Deseret Book--

one is a CD by Josh Wright.
His CD arrived with this introduction:
"The twenty-two year-old performer has already proven himself elite in the world of classical music by competing in the prestigious Gina Bachauer International Artists Piano Competition, of which only 38 performers from around the world were invited to. Wright was one of five Americans to play."

I put it on while I was making dinner Saturday night

and we kept it on while eating dinner...

now, you know something is awesome when noone is talking over it!

Josh is classically trained to perfection--

his talent is obvious and lovely.

Some of his arrangements happen to include my 

ALL-TIME favorite songs--

Clair De Lune 

Homeward Bound--

so moving that I nearly dropped tears

into my salad!
He reminds me of William Joseph and Jon Schmidt.
You can go here to get acquainted and order  his CD.
Seriously, you'll want this in your music collection.
The music is timeless and beautiful.
Well done, Josh!

Hillary Weeks.

To know her is to love her.

If you don't know who she is,

you need to find out!

She used to live in Colorado

many moons ago,

and I met her thru a mutual friend 

when she was invited to perform in our Stake.
Hilary writes music about Christ as someone who knows Him.

Hillary is as lovely in person as she is on Stage.

If you've been to BYU's Women's Conference,

you've had the privilege of hearing her music,

her down-to-earth ruminations of Motherhood and cheerios.

So she's written a book--

a collection of what she calls

"The Simple Joys of a Mom's Life"

entitled

"Bedtime and Naptime and Bedtime and Naptime".

The cool thing about this book is that she has included 

a CD with it--

and it's way cute!

Sweet songs and tidbits about her "favorite things",

all of it inspiring and spot-on!

This is a book that you'll want to not only 

RECEIVE,

it's a book you'll want to

GIVE--

to your mom,

your sisters,

your girlfriends,
your daughters,

any gal in your circle of young mothers

that need to know they're not alone 

in the mountains of laundry,

sticky cheerios,

and wee hours of the night with a tiny baby.

Oh, and there are recipes!!

There's one in particular that I am gonna try

this next weekend,

called simply,

"The Cheese Dish".

Gotsta try it!

I have to thank Lois B. at Deseret Book for the opportunity
to enjoy these productions myself and to be able to SHARE them!

That's right, it's time for
Give-O-Give-Away!
To Enter:
Leave a comment about your favorite things!


Winners will be chosen randomly.
Deadline for entries is Friday, April 1st, 2011, midnight.
Easy peasy!

Taillights

Diana left us today,

headed to Provo, Utah

for her own awfully big adventure.

That's her little red convertible pulling away, right there.

 Before she got in that little red car,

we had a nice spaghetti dinner.

We all went around the table

giving her our "best advice":

The Caboose:  "Stay safe. Don't let anyone talk you into doing bad things."

 Boofus: Stay away from boys. 

(I paid him with jellybellies later.)  

(oh he was on his way to play air-soft guns with his buddies-lol)

 Daisie: (who couldn't smile for "Take One"--had to suck up the tears for "Take Two")

and this is a direct quote: "Don't be a Ho."  --thanks, Daisie. 

Your eloquence is inspiring.

Momza: (Puffy eyes-check; dark circles of worry-check)

"Do things that help you become the person you want to be."

Dad: "Have fun. Be grateful for the opportunities that will come your way."

 Then, it was her turn to give each of us

some "Going Away" Advice:

To Daisie: "Be wise. Be wise at home. Be wise choosing your friends. Talk to Mom and listen to her.  If you listen to Mom, you will be happier."

 To the Boofus: "Be nice to your sisters. Be happy."

 To the Caboose (who was having the most difficulty letting go):

"Control your temper." (she can be a little hothead.)

 To Mom and Dad:

"Don't doubt yourselves as parents. You're good parents and you're raising good kids." and then she shared some more personal thoughts and feelings that I will keep to myself--all very much appreciated.

And then, we all gathered in the livingroom where Dad gave her a blessing, which frankly had all in tears.

Even the dog was whining--lol.

And we headed outside to her little red car.

Where there were more hugs and tears...

I walked her to the driver's side and whispered as we held each other tightly:

"Now, you go have your own awfully big adventure! Enjoy every minute! You know that we love you so!

You've always been my favorite, but don't tell the other kids." haha

Nana answered: "I know."

Then I kissed her cheeks and that was that.

Just when you are tired of those late nights waiting up for their key to turn in the door,

and those marathon discussions about Right and Wrong,

and your knees have a rug rash

while your heart's in a knot,

or those days

when you'd consider putting an ad on Ebay

for that moody creature--

just when you wonder

"Am I ever going to be done?"--

 All of that starts to change

and your yahoo

turn into a lovely responsible adult

who "gets it"--

that's when you enjoy their company

and friendship--

And, well, dang it,

that's also when it's time for them 

to put the key in the ignition,

put the car in DRIVE

and pull away.

I just hate that part.

Evolution: It's Something to Believe In

ev-o-lu-tion. n.

A gradual process in which something changes

into a different and usually more

complex or better form.

I love the word evolution.

To evolve, to change gradually, to become.

That is so Me.

At this age, how pathetic would it be,

if I still thought and acted like a twenty-year old?

At twenty-one I was a new young mother

who didn't know a dang thing.

But I was an eager student

to learn how to become better.

Reading books,

listening to good women and men's counsel,

seeking

always seeking out the good stuff

has helped me

"evolve".

We're all evolving

on some level.

Some of us take longer to learn 

the lessons of life

than others.

Common sense is not so common.

Sometimes it seems that

the World of Logic

is next to

Fantasyland.

In my fiftieth year,

just when I'm comfortable

with what I've learned,

my brain lets go of things

randomly, without warning.

Even in this process,

I am evolving my attitude

that says

"I must control everything"

with the realization

that it's not necessary.

I've made my best efforts in some areas,

most of these years,

but not always.

I can still do better.

Be better.

That's very encouraging thinking 

for my heart--

to know I've still got time to love more,

love deeper,

love for the sake of love.

There's yet more to learn

to explore and experience.

And heck no,

I'm not going to be perfect at it

the first go-'round.

But I can get better.

Having realistic expectations for myself,

gives me opportunities to teach my children

that they too

are evolving human beings,

and some days are gonna be wrecked-up messes--

regret, remorse, repentance

will all be part of their 

Journey.

So is forgiveness and love of self.

Appreciation 

for another sunrise

to try again

is seen as the true gift it is

in the light of day.

Whilst In the midst of trials,

all is not lost.

All is measured and weighed,

added to the sum total

of the equation

of evolution.

When our understanding matches our actions

then we can measure more fairly.

When we know better

we do better.

Doesn't it all make sense this way?

That's the legacy I want to leave behind

for my posterity.

That Life is for Learning:

"Do your part"--something we say to our children each day; 

and something I am certain they are sick of hearing, 

but also something I am certain 

they will say to their own as well.

"Learn what you need to learn,

and get on with it."

"This is the day that the Lord hath made,

let us rejoice 

and be glad in it."

Trials are part of this great journey...

but like a gray cloud--

as dark and fierce as it may be--

thankfully,they too pass.

There's yet much joy to be found

no matter what our circumstances may be.

We just have to look for it,

or 

create it if necessary.

Don't let the ghostly weight of past flubs

tether themselves

to the dreams of today.

Forgiveness of self is part of evolution.

Make things right

and then move forward 

with confidence.

You and me?

We have a work to do in our own little part of the vineyard.

I used to kneel and dig the earth

then I planted the seeds,

tended the little sprouts as they shot up to the sky,

watered and fed them most days--

and here I am,

standing 

in the glorious vineyard 

that is mine 

to enjoy 

in the rays of the sun,

shadow of the moon,

cloudy and rainy days,

snow-covered nights,

and every day that I cast my eyes heavenward.

Evolution.

I bet you thought I was writing about Apes, hunh?
Nope. 

.

Short Term Memory Loss--What I'm Doing About It

I've been getting a ton of hits on my recent post,
"The Good Things About Memory Loss"--
which tells me one of two things:
a) alot of people are experiencing this problem themselves and looking for answers
or
b) it's the same person.

Which has prompted me to share what I'm doing to help my own self with memory loss.

So here we go:

• I talk about it. Openly. To my husband, my kids, my friends, my doctor, my kids' teachers--anyone and everyone I may be accountable to in any way.  They need to know I'm going to forget things--even important things--once in awhile, and I'm not an irresponsible idiot.  I can't control what "sticks" in my brain and what doesn't.
• I've had the medical tests run--Catscan, MRI, EEG or was it EKG?--the brain scan thing with the lights flashing, etc., blood tests, etc. done to rule out things like tumors, stroke, and whatever else can affect memory. I'm on Lipitor for high cholesterol--which does contribute to memory loss.
• I keep a pad of paper in my purse and pens so I can jot things down on the run.
• I make Lists: things I need to do, people I need to call, emails that have to be written, stuff I need to buy.
• I write notes on my hand. I do. I know that sounds tacky, but if I have to pick up a kid from piano lessons at 5:15, I know that I may lose track of time doing something else, so I have "P/U Ari 5:15 on my hand.
• I take vitamin supplements --a multi-vitamin, Vit E, Vit D, and three others specifically for Memory loss: one is called Recall Support and I get that from The Vitamin Shoppe, and there's two others that enhance it. They make a difference--ask my friends and family, they'll tell you! Oh and I don't take in phenylalanine or aspartame--both are known contributors to brain dysfunction and memory loss. No kidding. Look it up.
• I know what triggers my "bad days" ie: the days I don't drive, the days my words get jumbled up or my brain feels "foggy"--lack of sleep or unrestful sleep, not eating enough protein, and stress.  I go to bed early, I make sure to get some protein in me at dinner, and I give myself permission to let go of things that unnecessarily stress me out and deal with the real stuff more logically than emotionally. A new saying of mine is "It is What it is."  That line of thinking and dealing is good for me.
• I realize that I'm not in total control of what lies ahead, so I try to focus on what's really important to me and my family and do that.
• Exercising my mind. Things like reading, writing, learning something new, being creative all help keep the mind active and alert. And that helps.  Watching TV does not.
• Exercising my bahooey.  Taking a walk, a hike, Zumba class, swimming--whatever gets the blood going and pumping oxygen to the brain helps clear cobwebs too.  
• Humor. Laughing at the flubs helps alleviate the anxiety of the reality of losing my mind. 

So that's my stuff. Some days are rough and frustrating. Especially when I forget stuff that's really important to me, like appointments, phone numbers, names of people I know I should know, etc.  But really, most days are okay. Somedays I never want to forget, and those days, I take pictures, write notes, keep a journal, blog about, and say a quiet prayer of gratitude for.

Okay, now:

5 Spiritual Solutions for Everyday Parenting Challenges--Book Review & Giveaway

"We didn't create our children;

they come as who they are

from a Father who entrusts us

with stewardship for them."  

~ R. & L. Eyre

New York Times #1 Bestselling Authors
Richard and Linda Eyre
have a new book out:

I was invited to read and review this book,

and just received it two days ago.

I've never met the Eyre's in person,

but I've known them for all of my parenting years--

that's 27 years and counting,

as their books have always been a part of my quest

to be a better, happier parent.

So when I was contacted about their latest offerings,

I was very humbled at the opportunity.

I'm not finished with this book yet--

it's hard to read through tear-filled eyes,
did you know that?
Each page is so entirely complete in it's presentation,
that you don't just skim through them,
you inhale them...
slowly and deeply...
soaking the truths into your very core.

It's not just about Parenting your children,
it's about who we are as Eternal families,
and how knowing that truth
and understanding it more fully,
helps us embrace our roles with Clarity,
Purpose and Love.

I didn't even get through the prologue
without tears, seriously.

I sat in my room,
and read the book outloud
because I wanted to hear the words
ring in my own ears.

I brought my almost 16 year old up,
and read some pages to her,
and again
to my 20 year old
and again to my husband, Mr. Wonderful.

The power that is in the Eyre's message
is palpable.
You will find yourself nodding in agreement while you read;
you'll get goosebumps on your arms,
tingling at the crown of your head,
lumps in your throat,
and Joy,
absolute JOY
in your whole body while you read
and swallow up their beautiful, sacred message.

My copy isn't going to be pretty--
it's getting dog-eared,
highlighted,
tear-stained
and shared!
That's when you know it's a GREAT book, right?

Deseret Book has graciously offered a lovely copy of
5 Spiritual Solutions for Everyday Parenting Challenges
by Richard and Linda Eyre
to one of YOU.

So here's the deal to enter the Giveaway:

Leave a Comment relative to this Giveaway.

That's it.
You can tell everyone you know about it too, if you want.
I want every parent in the Universe to own this book!!
You may get your own copy at Deseret Book, too.
You need this book.
Your kids need this book.
Your friends and neighbors and everyone whose ever been a child
needs it.

Now, if you'll excuse I've got to get back to it!

* I was not paid for this review, only given a copy of it for my review and one to share. For which, I am entirely grateful.  Thank you!

Finding My Beat at Zumba!

I didn't want to go.
Really.
My head was still stuffy from this crummy cold.
Nevermind that I'd had insomnia night before last.

But the girls wanted to go
and when the girls wanna go,
Momza goes.

Got on my sweats and sneakers,
pulled my hair back,
grabbed a water bottle
and went.

I wasn't gonna last the whole hour.
I knew that.
Planned for it, even.
"I'll go for a few minutes,
and I won't feel guilty about leaving.",
I told myself.

Just as we walked into the gym,
the music cued up,
the latin beat filled the air
and
I
was
moving my bahooey all over the place!
No! it wasn't pretty.
No! I couldn't get it together--
not in the beginning
not in the middle
not even in the end!
But, oh man,
it was good.

Nana and Daisie kept me entertained while
I took a few breaks here and there
on the sidelines--
we are a sight to see,
I tell ya!
We laughed so hard--
at each other,
at our selves
as we
cha-cha
rumba
slide kick slide
pump and roll
shimmy and spin
left left left
right right right
single single double
single single double

all over the wood floors
that sometimes made me wish my feet
weren't so big,
in our little private dance class.

Zumba brings out the inner dancer in us!
The little girl that lives within
is loving the music and dancing with her friends!

It's been a long while since I've been,
the moves I had down pat a few months ago,
were all but foreign to me;
only a few of them were familiar--
and when they were,
it was like,
"Ohhh yeahhh. Got it!"
The repetition is probably good for my brain
with the memory loss stuff,
and by the time the music slowed down
and we were cooling down,
I'd made up my mind that
March is going to be better than I planned it to be
just that morning.
It's going to force blooms all over me!
I'm gonna find my beat,
my mojo,
my inspiration
not to mention my hips
all over again!
I didn't leave--
I couldn't!
There wasn't a better place to be
than right there!
Again, the time flew by
and as we're walking out the door,
I knew I'd be back for more.
Zumba is my new addiction.


Nothing feels better than taking care of your self.
I needed to be reminded of that,
and as cheesy as it sounds
I'm going for it!

What about you?
What're you doing these days that is
just
for
you?

The Good Things About Short-term Memory Loss

On the whole,
I think I've been approaching my medical diagnosis
of
encephalopathy, aka Memory Loss
all wrong.

Sure I stumble around for words of common everyday objects,
and embarrasing, but true,
cuss words have shot out of my mouth that shock my own ears,
as those inner censors have frayed edges and not sealed-tight lids
as they used to--
which sorta freaks me out on one hand
and almost always cracks me up when it happens.
Total brain fart, as my kids call it.
I forget where I'm heading when I pull out of the driveway
once in awhile,
and that is wildly frustrating
when I have to find a place to turn the car around
and head in the opposite direction;
but there are some bonuses to this whole deal too.

So here I go,
in no particular order:

I don't stay mad at someone very long.
Mr. Wonderful has become more wonderful
because I forget the stupid stuff he does alot quicker these days.
In fact,
the whole family benefits at times when memory is an issue--
sometimes I can't remember if I've told a certain kid
to do a certain thing,
and they use the "You never asked me to..." phrase.
Likewise,
when they're late they say, "I did call! And you said okay."
So they're making out okay on this sometimes.

Other things:
I can watch re-runs on TV and enjoy them.
Since I can't remember what my favorite foods are,
I like everything.
I never run out of cute things to wear.
The Boofus can wear the same hoodie sweatshirt several days in a row,
without hearing me say,
"hey, wear something different." or "is that clean?"
I meet new people all the time...nevermind that I've known them for years,
their names sometimes escape me.
Okay, that's really annoying, truthfully.
I feel like an idiot when that happens.

Okay back to my list:
Bad days are usually forgotten,
just as the good ones, unfortunately,
giving the term,
"throwing the baby out with the bath water"
a whole new meaning to me.
But on the sunny side,
who likes to remember bad days, anyway?

I forget whose my friend and whose not really,
if you know what I mean?
I greet everyone the same.
Even those who are much smarter than me,
more successful than I am,
etc.
In my mind, we're all the same;
'cept for the skinny ones,
I am pretty sure I never liked them
in the first place.
Which is how it should be anyway, right?
Social barriers are all in our minds to start with,
and memory loss doesn't hold onto social crap like that.

To clarify,
I know rotten people are still rotten,
and I remember who Hitler was and evil people like him,
but in my reality,
I don't know alot of folks who remind me of Hitler--
so I don't have to keep track of that.

Carrying on...
I can't remember three days' back,
so I'm more optimistic about today.
Sure I was up until 2am this morning,
tapping away like a madwoman insomniac,
and I've had just 5 hours of sleep,
but if I don't dwell on it,
I'll forget about it altogether and get on with my day.
This, from a woman who knows she needs 9 hours of sleep
to feel great.
But meh, I'm okay and have things to do.
Like clean for a Bridal Shower I'm hosting tomorrow night.
Is it ridiculous to clean your fridge for a party?
I don't wanna be judged by smeared butter,
shriveled carrots,
opened but uneaten yogurt cups,
two tablespoons of corn in a quart tupperware bowl,
and hard tortillas
inside my fridge.
If I'm going to be judged,
let me be judged by where I've come from
to get where I am today.
Not the state of my messy fridge and pantry
that has 421 half-eaten bags of chips in it, alright?

But here's the caveat,
even if I am judged by the contents of my appliances
and kitchen cupboards,
I'll forget all about it by the weekend.

I'm thinking of a new life motto...
Lance Armstrong has LIVE STRONG,
Colonel Sanders has WE DO CHICKEN RIGHT
and mine,
well mine could be
EMBRACE THE CRAZY!
Whaddya think?

Insomnia Vent To The Universe

I went to bed already tonight.
I've been really sick,
like,
in bed-only-rising-to-shower kinda sick
with a cold that makes me sound like a seal when I speak.
But I'm feeling better,
so today (it was Monday nite when I started this),
I ran up to Denver to see Dani and the Ninja Baby,
and to fetch Nana whose returning from her BYU trip.
Really,
I just wanted to see the Ninja Baby.


Anyway,
I was beat by dinner time,
and was in bed for the night
by 8pm.
But Mr. W wasn't ready to go to sleep,
and like always,
just about the time he's ready to turn off the TV--
the theme from "Hawaii 5-0" cues up at the end,
and
I wake up.
I try to talk myself into going back to sleep
but my brain starts churning
and won't shut down,
so here I am
three hours later
still alone with my thoughts.

Does anyone else do this?

I've been surfing online--
AOL
MSN
People
and the biggest time-sucker of 'em all:
Facebook.

Mr W and I watched
"The Social Network" via PPV over the weekend.
It was interesting,
well-written,
but not Oscar-worthy in my opinion.
When I was surfing Facebook tonight,
I looked and found Eduardo Savoren's name and bio
on the FB page--
yup it's there but listed in a past-tense way.
Which,
I'm betting just burns him up.
Unless of course,
his settlement was in the zillions of dollars,
then I bet he's just happy as a clam somewhere
in the world, eating bons-bons and watching Oprah.

When I was still laying in bed,
trying to talk myself into going back to sleep,
a wave of panic swept over me
as I realized we're moving at the end of May,
and I thought a recent post by Crash,
and how she had all this random stuff left over
from a drawer in her house after moving,
and how I have those kinda drawers
that I'm gonna have to go through and pack.
Ugh.
I hate packing.
I love tossing stuff out--
in fact,
I love EMPTY drawers altogether.
And roomy closets and cabinets too.
But with a large family,
it seems we fill every space there is to fill
and then some.
So just the thought of packing drawers
washed dread over me so much,
I couldn't rest and thus,
here I sit.

Nana is moving to Provo for the summer
before her mission.
I have mixed feelings about this--
she's finally out of the rotten teenager stage,
and I like her alot.
We spend alot of time together,
and once she leaves at the end of March,
(yikes, it IS March!)
I'm going to miss her guts.
It's probably going to do wonders for my relationship
with the almost 16 year old though.
So that's a good thing, right?

It's March 1st.
I don't like March.
I'm in a May-kinda mind...
where Summer is just around the bend
with hiking and camping,
sandals are pulled to the front of the closet,
and sweaters are pushed to the back.
I'm thinking tulips and daffodils,
the smell of green grass and new leaves
dancing in the air,
and pink nail polish.

March puts me off--
with the heater running and
the forecast calling for snow
again this weekend.
Sure, there's the lame holiday of
St. Patrick's Day
and hey! I'm even Irish,
but really,
if you don't plan on getting snockered
and eating corn beef and cabbage
in a bright green shirt,
what's the point?

One sucky  good thing about March--
the Caboose turns ten.
Double-digits, peeps.
Ugh.
She likes skinny jeans and lip gloss now,
and knows music like a teenager--
n' because she's the youngest,
she's more confident than the rest of us all combined.
Ever notice that with the youngest in families?
I tell her to stop growing up on me,
that I need her to stay little.
Shrugging her shoulders,
she says,
"Can't help it, Momzaaaaa."
See? March sucks for so many reasons.

IN a totally vain direction,
I'm thinking of dyeing my hair.
I think it's called "peer pressure"--
all the cool kids are doing it.
I like my hair color, I do,
but the gray on the sides bums me out these days.
Whereas before,
I have boasted about my gray hairs as "earned and fought for"--
now,
I'm thinking I'd just as soon hide my candle under a bushel
or something like that.
I won't be going BYU blonde...lol.
That's an inside joke with me and my girls--
everytime we go to BYU's Women's Conference,
we people watch,
and it seems like entire families of women
pass around a bottle of Clairol's Blonde No.145
in the dorm rooms or hotel rooms the night before,
sharing the bottle like a BYU mint brownie--
Thus, BYU Blonde.
Try not to think about that,
the next time you're there.

No, and I don't wanna look like a calico cat either--
you know those dye-jobs that scream for attention:
"I couldn't decide if I wanted to go blonde or redhead,
low lights or high lights--so I went with the Combo-meal 
of all of them. And some ranch dressing on the side with a Sprite."
And usually, with that kinda dye-job,
comes the
"I-stuck-my-finger-in-an-electrical-outlet,
and-my-hair-now-stands-on-end-from-the-crown-of-my-head-,
and-out-the-back--and-none-of-my-friends-will-tell-me-I-look- 
like-the-bride-of-Frankenstein-caught-in-a-windstorm."--
haircut.

Clearly, I have issues with women and weird haircuts.
My own mother,
who had a gorgeous head of auburn hair--
I mean, the kind of auburn women yearn for--
colored her hair every shade of the rainbow.
Platinum Blonde,
Streaked, Highlighted, Weaved and Poked thru a plastic cap.
Carrot top Red.
Elvis Presley Blue-Black
and every color in between.

So maybe that's where I get my
dye-job phobias and prejudices??
There was the 1987 and 2008 fiascos.
I dunno,
but I'm reconsidering the whole deal and covering these
grey tresses up with a Sharpie if I have to,
unless I come to my senses and focus my attention elsewhere,
like cute summer sandals and pink nail polish.
Or write my own book.

Is it just me,
or is everyone on the planet writing their own books
these days?
The saying goes that "everyone has a story to tell."
But seriously,
I've been to the Pikes Peak Library( to whom I owe a huge overdue fee, dang it.)
Barnes and Noble,
Borders
heck, I've even been to the British Museum
at Trafalgar Square,
where books literally line the walls--
is there anything left to say that hasn't already been,
you know,
said?
I even looked inward and asked the question:
Is there a book in me? And if so, what would it be about?
A large dull sound of nothing answered,
so I took that as a big fat "no" from the Universe.
Okay then,
I must have other talents, I tell myself.
Other, yet-to-be-discovered-talents.
Perhaps they involve
watercolors
or
landscaping,
or better--
learning how to love March and letting go of my children as they
trot off to college and skinny jeans and lip gloss.
Perhaps my talent will involve
just sitting still and being a quiet observer of
the seasons and BYU Blondes
with a Sharpie in one hand
and a Sprite in the other.

But honestly,
I don't see a book in my future.
Just crammed closets and junk drawers,
tearful goodbyes,
insomniac nights,
and Hawaii 5-0 as background music.
Lights out.