Telima, you two need to get some new hobbies

You're gone from Utah Valley for less than a month, and see what happens?

(Incidentally, robbing a Subway and a Payless? You could have at least robbed a Zales or Tiffany's or something!)

Religious Survey Brag

The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life just released the results on a survey of religious knowledge. As the Deseret News reports:

On the average, Americans correctly answered only half of the 32 questions on the full survey conducted Pew's Forum on Religion and Public Life.

Jews and Mormons were the highest-performing religious groups on the survey, scoring 20.5 and 20.3 answers, respectively.

But it doesn't take a person of faith to be knowledgeable about faith, since self-claimed atheists and agnostics averaged 20.9 correct answers on the 32-question poll.

You can take an abbreviated version (15 questions) of the survey here.

How did you* do?

*(clears throat modestly) I got all 15 answers correct. I freely admit that I guessed on the last question, though.

"Safe" Counsel

Many years ago, my mother was helping an older woman in our neighborhood clear out her garage. Among the trunks of clothes and piles of furniture, she found a box of old books. The neighbor, knowing my mother had several avid readers at home, offered the box to my mother.

Most of the books inside were junk, but there were a few gems. This book was the pick of the litter. (Ha, ha, ha! Just a little eugenics humor, there.)

The cover of this book, published in 1919 by J.L. Nichols & Co, proclaims "Safe Counsel". The title page, however, has a more grandiose name:

"Searchlights on Health: The Science of Eugenics. A Guide to Purity and Physical Manhood. Advice to Maiden, Wife, and Mother. Love, Courtship, and Marriage."

This book is charmingly illustrated, as demonstrated below:

(Sorry, but that Guardian Angel is a FAIL. Look at those kids, cheerfully picking flowers right at the cliff's edge! Junior is one step away from a long drop. Shouldn't she be in front of them or something? And what's with picking flowers there, anyway? Couldn't she direct them to a nice meadow, thereby alleviating the need for rescue?)

Of course, most of the book is complete and total rubbish, but there are a few gems. One of my favorites:

(click on the image to enlarge it)

From the list of "Advice to the Married and Unmarried", number 9.

Do Not Marry a Man With a Low, Flat Head; for, however fascinating, genteel, polite, tender, plausible or winning he may be, you will repent the day of your espousal

Well, then. What more do you need to know?

I scanned several pages of this book recently; when I get a chance I'll post some of the more hilarious entries. (For example, there is one on Mormons that is just pricelessly bizarre.) And there is a copy of this book on Project Gutenburg, too, for your own perusing pleasure.

Random Thoughts for a Monday Morning

• Who knew you use the inside of your middle finger so much? I cut my left middle finger pretty bad yesterday while making dinner (dang can of green beans), and while it isn't even close to needing stitches, it hurts like the devil and I keep trying to use the finger. I never realized what a useful finger it is!

• Em might be allergic to bananas! How odd. Up until yesterday afternoon she could eat three and four bananas in one sitting if I let her. (Which I try not to.) But yesterday she ate a banana and the roof of her mouth hurt so bad, she was practically crying. Weird. However, she also spent most of the morning vomiting with the six-hour-stomach flu (Zee had it on Friday), so maybe the roof of her mouth was extra sensitive. We'll test it later in the week and see what happens.

• I went to Gee's school on Thursday and was very reassured about the classroom, the teachers, and the therapists. Whew. Now I can send him off without worrying. The PTs will jot down notes every week for me, so I can work on the same types of things at home. Yay!

• My husband makes some rocking wheat bread. Just saying.

• I love it when a plan comes together! (Name that show) I have a shelf where I put single socks, hoping that through the next iteration of laundry their mates will appear. Just now I perfectly matched all but two! (Yes, it is a pathetic accomplishment. I have a simple life, okay?)
  

• Don't let your dog poop on my lawn. Whoever you are, just don't, okay?
  

• Mimi is seven weeks old today! How can that possibly be? She might also be sensitive to my eating chocolate, which is exceedingly sad news if it turns out to be true. On the one hand, slightly gassy baby. On the other, no chocolate? Decisions, decisions...

A Small and Simple Talk

Our ward's RS presidency was asked to speak in sacrament meeting today. We were only given six days notice, and because my brain is like a sieve these days, for the first two days I completely forgot. Fortunately Heavenly Father has mercy on frazzled mothers of four kids and a newborn, because I found this to be one of easiest and most enjoyable talks to prepare.

(It was also my expand-o-talk--I had a three-minute version, a six-minute version, and a ten-minute version. You see, with four adult women speakers (I was third) and a choir number, I knew that the stated 10 minutes per talk was pushing it. Sure enough, when I rose to speak, there were 12 minutes remaining before the usual time for the closing song. So this is my six-minute version.)

I love President Monson. In the September 1997 Ensign, he shares a story about a stake priesthood leadership meeting he attended with another GA, named President Child. When it was Pres. Child’s turn to speak, he stepped off the stand and stood among the priesthood brethren.

Now, in President Monson’s words:

“What is the worth of a human soul?” He avoided calling on a bishop, stake president, or high councilor for a response. Instead, he selected the president of an elders quorum—a brother who had been a bit drowsy and had missed the significance of the question.

The startled man responded: “Brother Child, could you please repeat the question?” The question was repeated: “What is the worth of a human soul?” I knew President Child’s style. I prayed fervently for that quorum president. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity and then declared, “Brother Child, the worth of a human soul is its capacity to become like God.”

All present pondered that reply. Brother Child returned to the stand, leaned over to me, and said, “A profound reply; a profound reply!”

It is no small thing to ask us—mortals—to become like God. In fact, it’s a pretty big, overwhelming thing. But as Alma says in chapter 37, verse 6, “…but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass…”

My grandfather taught me this principle by his example. He was a man who loved hiking. Hiking was his favorite form of exercise, and his favorite way to spend time with his grandchildren.

On these hikes, his motto was: “One Step at a Time”. You know how children ask “Are we there yet?” on long car trips? We grandchildren were no different on these day-long hikes. “How many miles left, Grandpa?” “One step at a time, kids.” We weren’t even supposed to ask other hikers we passed on the trail. “One step at a time.”

At the time, I found this mantra somewhat irritating. Why couldn’t I know how much farther we had to go? But my Grandpa was a wise man. When an 11-year-old girl is faced with a 14-mile-round-trip hike, it is easy for her to get overwhelmed. Instead of focusing on the seemingly impossible goal, it was, “One step at a time, Keryn. Put one foot forward, now the next. The end will take care of itself.”

The small and simple things of the gospel will strengthen our testimonies. My friend Tracy is an adult convert to the church. As a young mother, she had an intense spiritual experience that left her with a sure knowledge of God’s existence. She then began exploring churches to discover what God’s plan for her was.

While attending an LDS meeting on Sunday, she was given the Gospel Principles manual. Late that night, she idly flipped through it, and then decided to start reading.

It took six chapters before she was converted.

In her words:

“Chapter 2 talks about spirit life…We were all someone before we came here… Now this was good stuff- and it was nothing I had heard anywhere else. These were not amorphous answers about mystery and clouds- and something inside me was lighting up. Whoa! Hey! God wants me to learn and progress? That means there is not some end-game where I hang out with a harp for eternity… something I had not heard outside of eastern faiths, which I had also tried.

Chapter 3 introduces the idea that the Savior is my brother, and that he chose, of his own will, to come to earth and perform the Atonement…Chapter 4 introduces agency:

“Thou mayest choose for thyself, for it is given unto thee” Moses 3:17

This was the first time I had read about choice and temptation being good things for us- that we had chosen this path, and not been unwilling pawns of a basic disaster. Now I was up and pacing the living room, the cover folded back on the book as I kept reading.

Then, in chapter 5, the doozy: “Worlds without number have I created; . . . and by the Son I created them, which is mine Only Begotten” (Moses 1:33). Whoa! Wait a minute- this was theology and cosmology that answers my questions about science and the universe and other worlds…This was filling in gaps faster than I could read, and answering questions I’d held most of my life.

The kicker came in chapter 6. The traditional Christian narrative of Adam and Eve had always sat just slightly askance with me, particularly the idea of a God who would allow his one world to be screwed up forever by a hapless accident. And here in the LDS narrative, we have Eve being beguiled, and then she and Adam making a choice, for the benefit of mankind…

I woke my husband up and read him all of chapters five and six.

And that was it. I went to church the next Sunday and asked to be baptized.

The small and simple doctrines of the gospel created a foundation for Tracy’s testimony that will lead her to exaltation, to becoming like God.

There are things we must do to change the “natural man” in each of us to become Godlike. Instead of becoming overwhelmed and giving up, let’s just take one small step at a time.

Just pick one small thing to improve, to work on. Maybe it will be morning prayer. Maybe it will be temple attendance. For our family, it is scripture reading. As a ward we are trying to read the Book of Mormon this school year. Because our family is young and rambunctious, we have decided to take the small step of reading one verse from that day’s chapter. It’s a VERY small thing, and sometimes we just read the verse, say the prayers, and get in bed already! But sometimes it has led to sweet gospel discussion that can strengthen us on our journey to exaltation.

By small and simple things are great things brought to pass.

At least he doesn't bite

Gee just walked up to me with his face all screwed up in a "scary" expression. "Make the scary doggy go away, Momma! Ruff-RUFF!"

Perplexed, I just looked at him. He scrunched his face even more tightly and demanded, "Make me go away, Momma! Ruff-ruff-RUFF!"

I waved my hand. "Shoo, scary dog!"

He spun around and hurried away.

Two seconds later he was back. "I a GOOD doggy now, Momma. PET ME!"

Of course I obliged.

This is why I don't need a pet. I already have one.*

*Or two or three, depending on the day. Once Em, Gee, and Hebs were all doggies or kitties, switching between species with wild abandon, and scolding me when I got mixed up.

Waiter, can you top off this sippy cup?

My brother's son K. is autistic, with a speech disorder (apraxia) thrown in for good measure. He is in kindergarten and doing marvelously well, thanks in large part to all the work my sister-in-law has done with him previously.

In the past, K. has used sign language to communicate. However, the school district recently ordered some kind of language computer/speech doohickey for him. It arrived yesterday. (Apparently, it is so way awesome cool, his older brother wants one, too. Considering they are $7000 a pop, as Samuel says, "I don't think we will get [big brother] one.")

K. has been showing off by having the device say "I want..." and then choosing from the myriad of beverage options available to him, even if he's not thirsty. I can understand "milk", "soda", "water", "iced tea", etc. But I'm a little concerned about the availability of "beer" and "wine".

Hopefully they won't let him do the ordering at the restaurant anytime soon.

(In other news, Em is currently sitting in her darkened room, playing with her animals. Apparently they are doing some traveling, because the stuffed cat is in Africa, the bear is in Europe, and the puppy is in...wait for it...Pangaea. Oh, how I love having children to corrupt teach geology to!)

Saved by Small Plastic Blocks

Today, my patience at being constantly talked to and touched by children ran out at 4:25. This is unfortunate, because Bradley won't be home until 6:15 and bedtime isn't until 8:00.

Thank heavens for Legos.

Addiction

This is my new addiction--seriously, it is SO divine.

And SO bad for me. I've always been a water person--I have soda at most twice a year (gives me horrible hiccups and heartburn, plus I just don't like carbonation), and I don't drink milk. I enjoy not getting (or even craving) those calories.

But midway through my pregnancy with Mimi somebody gave me some of this Raspberry Lemonade, and it was love at first taste.

And then my grocery store (hi, Macey's!) had it on sale for more than a month. And of course, because my last trimester was during the hot, hot summer, I needed to be careful not to get dehydrated, right? What's a girl to do?

Of course, I have to be careful while I have a sweet nursling, because I don't want to get dehydrated now, either.

Oh, I have a hundred excuses. And I could stop, anytime, you know.

Right after I try the Limeade version.

Cheerios, anyone?

Gee is suffering from a basic misunderstanding of human biology. He has confused the milk I feed Mimi with cereal.

(It makes a certain kind of sense. After all, we usually have milk on our cereal in the mornings.)

I guess, to him, the idea of mom's body making cereal for a baby is no weirder than mom's body making milk for the baby. They are both foods, right?

But it is a little disconcerting when he points to my chest and says, "Is there CEREAL there for Mimi?"

"No, dear, it is MILK. The baby drinks MILK from Momma."

Then you add the fact that he argues with me about basic facts. ("Today is Tuesday, Momma?" "No, Gee, today is Thursday." "NO, Momma, it is Tuesday!!!" And on and on.)

So after I tell him it is milk Mimi drinks, he argues, "No, it is CEREAL!"

"No, it is milk."

"NO, it is CEREAL!!!!" Tears usually follow until I agree.

Fortunately, most of these conversations happen in the privacy of our home. I can't imagine what a stranger would think about me agreeing with him about how my body produces cereal for the baby.

Two the Second Time Around

According to Gee, there are two babies in our family: the "old" baby (Hebs), and the "new" baby (Mimi).

And now, twice a week, it is just Momma and the babies. This is the first time, since Gee was born, that I have had any regularly scheduled length of time with just two kids. Neither Zee nor Em went to preschool, so it wasn't until this year, with Zee in school full-time, Em in kindergarten, and Gee in preschool twice weekly, that I was down to only two. And it is amazing how EASY it feels.

(Of course, Mimi still sleeps a lot. So sometimes it's like I only have one. You should see the things I get accomplished!)

I remember how hard it seemed, after I had Em, to do anything with BOTH kids. Wrangling a toddler and an infant through the grocery store seemed like an Olympic feat. Even just hanging out with them around the house was occasionally difficult. I remember being in tears one day because my son needed me but the baby needed me and OH! What COULD I do?

(I won't mock my younger self too much. It was legitimately hard, especially since it was my first experience with two small beings that depended entirely upon me. And I imagine mothers of twelve children look at my frustrations with five in a sort of amused way.)

The point is this: Whether you have two, five, or ten children, take away a few for several hours a week, and it's BOUND to feel easier. And I am thoroughly enjoying it!

Happy Anniversary

Thirty-seven years ago, my parents were married in the St. George Temple, and in the thirty-three years they were together (before my father passed away), they were an amazing example of a Christ-centered marriage. Thank you, Mema and Daddy. Happy Anniversary!

Michael and LaDonna Tobler
May 13, 2005

(At my sister Telima's wedding reception)

"Minute To Win It" Home Evening

Zee's new favorite show to watch is "Minute to Win It", which is a game show where contestants have one minute to complete a silly but hard task--like stacking golf balls on top of each other, or pulling all the tissue out of a box one by one. Because I don't watch the online clips with him, he loves to describe each task in great detail to me.

In light of this new enthusiasm, Daddy put Zee in charge of Family Home Evening tonight. Zee selected the challenge of bouncing ping pong balls into cups arranged like tic-tac-toe. (The cups should be partly filled with water, to prevent them from tipping over. For obvious reasons this is best done outside.)

Everyone got a chance to practice, and then the game began! We all had a great time trying to get "three in a row" in a minute. Daddy and Momma succeeded, Zee and Em showed great promise, Gee got at least one ball into a cup, and Hebs didn't have a clue what was going on but enjoyed tossing balls around, usually in the wrong direction. (Mimi lounged in the grass and chose not to participate.)

Zee has informed me that he has many other games he wants to try. I see a lot of awesome FHEs in our future!

My Bruiser

My Hebs is a toddler in the truest sense of the word. And it's a little scary to his momma.

He has no sense of balance (he gets that from me, unfortunately), and he doesn't have a clue how to fall gracefully. When he tips over, he always folds at the waist, which means his head--his forehead, to be precise--is the first thing that hits the ground. Last weekend, he "bonked" his head no less than four times--three on pavement outside. The fourth, on the tile bathroom floor, created the lovely goose egg you see in the picture above.

He is very interested in the electrical outlets of late. I am trying to cover them all with child caps, but he then pulls the plugs out of fans, computers, telephone bases, etc.

He loves the toilet. He loves the garbage and recycling cans. He loves to tip books off shelves, and cans out of cupboards. He loves to play in water, mud, and sand.

He is the child that is going to end up in the doctor's office with broken limbs or needing stitches. I will probably blame my grey hairs on him.

He also loves fiercely. He will call out "I wuv you!" at least ten times a day. He gives giant hugs to everyone in the family. He is incredibly compassionate--the other day, I burst into tears over something small (thank you, hormones and exhaustion), and he was right there, touching my face, wiping my tears away. "Momma sad?" he asked, a dear concerned look on his face. "Sad?"

I am grateful to have my wonderful Hebs, even if I can't always keep up with him.

Seriously so EXTREMELY blessed

One month old

Mimi* is one month old today. It's amazing how fast (and slow) this month has gone by. On the one hand, it feels like she has been part of our family forever; on the other, she's already one month? Where's my newborn?

She is precious and beautiful and afflicted with baby acne. (And a stuffy nose. I shoved a book under her bassinet mattress to give her a slight incline on which to sleep, poor baby.) She makes me think of nothing so much as a baby doll--she is so delightfully round cheeked and double chinned and small and sweet. When she wears feetie pajamas, her head looks like it is set on a stuffed fabric body. I love it.

When Mimi was only 19 days old, I was rocking with her snuggled up close to me, "loving on her" as Gee says, and she looked into my eyes and...smiled? The expression in her eyes was obviously happy, and her little rosebud mouth was slightly open with the corners turned up. I was so surprised I doubted what I had seen. After all, babies don't smile that early, do they? It must have been gas.

Except she didn't burp, wasn't uncomfortable, and keeps doing it! She will look into your eyes, crinkle up her eyes, and, if you smile, she will smile back. It is so adorable. Obviously she is a child prodigy.

Occasionally Mimi still thinks three in the morning is a good time to be awake and fussy, but we are working on that. Otherwise, she is practically a model baby--she eats and sleeps well, doesn't fuss too often, and is patient with her eager and loving siblings.

Hebs and Gee are settling into this new normal. It helps that Gee has preschool now (yay!), and Hebs gets Momma to himself (with Mimi) two days a week in the morning. The oldest two are loving school (as is Gee, who was deliriously happy on Tuesday to go back to school) and Bradley loves walking to school most mornings with the kids (he then catches the bus to BYU from the elementary school). I am getting back to normal, slowly. I can't overdo it, like yesterday walking up to the school and back twice, or I'm super sore and slow, like today. A whole month later, it's a little crazy.

And I am SO excited for the "-ber" months. I love the fall, and we are already cooling off. Hooray!

*There seems to be a little confusion over her name. We will not be calling her "Mimi" in real life, just as we don't call her older sister "Em" in real life. (Except we do call Zee "Zee" in real life, sometimes. I am inconsistent, I know.) "Mimi" is just her blog and facebook nickname.

A Surprise on my Doorstep

On Saturday morning, I was sitting in my living room chatting with my mother (who had come up for Mimi's baby blessing), when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was one of the neighborhood kids looking for Zee and Em, I called out for the kids to open the door.

Naturally, there was a bit of a fuss over who got to actually open the door, and I walked over to arbitrate. So I was standing there when the door finally opened and...

...it was my sister LaDale!!!

I nearly had a heart attack.

She left school in Colorado Springs on Friday, drove to Grand Junction to spend the night, and then got up really early to drive the rest of the way to my house. All without letting me, my sister Telima, or my mother know.

It was the BEST surprise. The kids were thrilled, Telima, Mema, and I were thrilled, and baby Mimi got to meet her aunt LaDale.

She could only stay for two days, but it was totally worth it (at least for me!). What a great surprise for us all. Thanks, LaDale!

Happy Blessing Day, Mimi

The Final Piece of Straw?

Warning: a long, fairly rant-y post ahead.

Okay, at this point, I think that our school district preschool is just messing with me.

What has come before:
When I went to registration at Gee's school, I asked normal, registration-type questions: Which days will Gee have preschool? What times? Can I meet with his teacher to discuss things? When do they start?

The office staff was very polite, but they could not answer any of the questions. The teacher, newly hired, had not yet come in. She (the teacher) would contact me very soon.

Two weeks passed, during which time I had a baby. And during which time I heard nothing from the school. The Friday before Zee started school (at the time I didn't know that preschool started two weeks later), I got a telephone call from Gee's teacher, Miss B., asking me to come to an open house for all the preschool parents on the following Monday. Yay hooray, contact!

It was there I was told that there would be no preschool in the afternoon, like last year. This created a significant problem, because Gee would be arriving home on the bus just at the same time that Em would need to be arriving at kindergarten, at a completely different school.

Sigh. It would have been nice to know that ahead of time, but such is life. Although it was a bit of a headache and mess for everyone, the marvelous administrators and teachers at Em's school got her switched to morning kindergarten. Now I have a thirty minute buffer, and a bunch of ward-friends in the same class as Em, with accompanying carpool-ability.

Gee's school starts on the Tuesday after Labor Day--a couple of days from now. We were told that the bus people would be calling us with exact pick-up and drop-off times, and so when I saw a message from the public schools on my voicemail on Thursday (two business days before school), I assumed that it was the schedule.

I was wrong. It was the aide from Gee's class, telling me that because of scheduling difficulties, preschool would now start and end thirty minutes earlier. The transportation people will be calling soon with the bus schedule.

Now Zee, Em, and Gee all start school at the same time, in two different schools. And Em and Gee now get out of school at the same time. So we could have kept Em in afternoon kindergarten after all, and in fact it would have been to our advantage to do so. Argggh!

Still, with the bus adding time to Gee's schedule, it still will work. If only I could know the bus schedule, so my mind could be at rest! I waited patiently until today (Friday) at 3pm.

The straw that broke the camel's back:
With only two hours left in the business day before the three-day weekend, I called the transportation office.

"Can you tell me what time my son will be picked up for preschool on Tuesday?"

"Oh, they won't be doing bus service on the first day of preschool."

Excuse me? Why not? And, more importantly, when was I going to be told? Hello, people? Get your act together!!!

"Um, that would be important information for the parents to know, don't you think?"

"Well, the bus drivers were just told this morning that there wouldn't be bus service on Tuesday. They will be calling the parents with the schedule soon."

It wasn't the receptionist's fault, so I refrained from saying any of the astonished/angry/incredulous things running through my mind. It is now nearly five pm on Friday, and I still haven't heard from the bus driver.

So, to recapitulate: I am repeatedly left in the dark for days on important information about my son's school. I pointlessly rearranged my daughter's kindergarten schedule. And now, I have to figure out how to pick up my daughter and my son at the same time, at two different schools, at least three miles apart. And if I wasn't pro-active about calling the transportation people, I still wouldn't know this.

Tell me again why I should trust my child with these people?

Day Three

Today, driving home after picking Em up from kindergarten's third day, I asked if she'd had a good day.

"Momma, I didn't get ANY cross-offs!" (Yesterday, day two of school, she had gotten one cross-off for not obeying instructions.)

"All right, Em! High five!"

She was so proud of herself.

And then when we got home, and she was showing me the contents of her backpack, we found her little progress report. With one cross-off, and the explanation "Running and yelling in hallway".

She was stunned. Genuinely shocked and surprised, and, then, devastated. She started to sob.

"What? I didn't know, Momma!" she cried. "I wanted to give you a high five in the car! I didn't know!"

She was so sad, it broke my heart. I gathered her onto my lap with tears in my own eyes.

"It's okay, Em. It's okay! You're still learning all about the rules. We all make mistakes, sweetie. Momma makes mistakes, Daddy makes mistakes. We just try to do better next time."

She cried on my lap for a couple of minutes, and then gradually calmed down. We talked a little more about how fun school is, and then we talked about how, tomorrow, she'll remember not to run in the hallway. She's off playing now with Gee.

Goodness, this school thing is rough on the emotions. For Em, too.

Kindergarten and Em

Why is it so different when Number Two goes to school?

Maybe it is because I already know what to expect. Maybe it is because she is so relaxed about it. Em is younger than Zee was, when he went to kindergarten, and yet she seems so much older.

That doesn't mean I didn't feel a little twinge when she headed into her classroom, with nary a backwards glance. "So long, Mom" was her attitude. She was ready to do this awesome thing.

And when we picked her up, she was bubbling with excitement. "Momma!" she exclaimed. "I didn't get even ONE cross-off." (The discipline system for kindergarten has to do with crossing off smiley faces.) "AND we chased a gingerbread man around the school, and came back to our classroom and we ATE gingerbread men!"

(And the evidence was smeared all over her shirt.)

She was so excited to go back today. And I am excited for her!

(At her evaluation Monday, she identified letters and sounds, counted to 19 (and then skipped directly to 100, ooookay), and READ a little book. I knew she could read lots of words, but she was reading words I didn't know she could. I'm a little ashamed that I didn't know she was such a good reader!)