Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Her Office is a Bathroom

Last week I stepped out of my comfort zone and attended the National PTA Convention in New Orleans, Louisiana.  For weeks before leaving, I was racked with extra anxiety, something I have been dealing with for several years.  Anxiety can be about real things and it can be about nothing at all. Mine is both.  It ebbs and flows throughout the day and night, sometimes hardly there, sometimes seemingly gone, sometimes coming with a force that literally takes my breath away.  I cannot breathe.  I wake up in the night as I sit up in bed gasping for air, then automatically apologize for waking my spouse, and lay back down to sleep as soon as my pounding heart recovers.
In the weeks leading up to my departure, my mind barreled at manic speeds as I juggled my responsibilities and choices back and forth. Nestled in my sister's rocking love-seat, I wrote down my negative self-talk, burned it in her bathroom sink, and replaced it with positive affirmations directly counter to my fears.

"I am powerful.  I am as strong as I need to be.  I do not need to run faster than I have strength.  I am a daughter of God and He loves me.  I CAN let go of what I cannot control, I WILL let go of what I cannot control.  I will be peaceful in my anxiety because Jesus is my anchor and my firm foundation.
Why will I have such an amazing time in New Orleans? because I am amazing."

Folded in my purse, this mantra carried me, not away from my fears, not freed from my anxiety, but through my fears and through my anxiety to my place of strength.

Miraculously, I hardly felt any anxiety while I was gone, just smidgens here and there and one sit-up-in-the-bed-and-gasp-for-air episode.  I'm not sure if that woke the saint of a woman who let me share her bed when there was no room for me. She didn't say.
I went in full force to learn and to share and it was AMAZING.  I made friends with several people. They laughed, and said yes, when to their faces I asked, "Will you be my friend?", referring to Facebook, but also life.

I learned from masters, women and men who serve on state and National PTA boards, children with wisdom beyond their years, and mothers, struggling to balance their own crazy lives but driven by vision and passion to better the lives of their own children and the children of America.  But, most of all, I was touched by the woman working in the bathroom. The convention was held in the largest conference center I have ever seen in my life. It stretches .62 miles and 11 city blocks.  Near the main ballroom where we had our general meetings, was a mammoth bathroom and a woman who worked there.

She was there every time I went inside.

On the second day I went the to bathroom 4 times between 7 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. She was in there every time. She works in the bathroom.  ALL DAY LONG.  And the bathroom smelled bad. ALL OF THE TIME.  I wanted to know her. I wanted to know her story.  Is she grateful for her job? Does it bring her joy?  Do her feet hurt?  Does she feel invisible?  Does she feel trapped? What is her story? What could she teach me?

I was pretty bold last week, but not bold enough or rude enough to invade that woman's realm and pepper her with personal questions. Yet, I admired her.  She smiled as she worked.  She showed up. Her office is a bathroom. She was always there, despite difficult circumstances.

And, without talking to her, I felt a kinship.  She's doing what she has to do.  And so am I.  And if she can show up each day and work long shifts in a windowless, smelly bathroom, I can do the hard things, both placed in my life and there by choice. 

I needed to share this and, on my very last day, as I walked and walked and walked those halls, and walked some more, eating the most delicious dripping double scoop Bluebell ice cream waffle cone, I decided to stop once more in her bathroom, just to see, "Is she really always there?" And as I approached, I saw her, OUTSIDE OF THE BATHROOM, laughing as she  talked to a co-worker and pushed a trash can across the polished floor, briefly emerged from her "office", not completely trapped after all.  She was beautiful. She is strong. And so am I.







 

Monday, June 18, 2018

Grandma Shoes

     Oh, how I miss my 30 year old body, before I developed allergies, before I had to start watching what I eat, before my body decided it's a zombie.  It's not easy being one of the living dead.  Seriously.  So, when somebody makes it a little bit easier for me to function in this world with my falling apart body, it means a lot.  And now, zombie jokes aside, I'd like to share with you my shoe shopping experience on Saturday. 
     About two years ago I stopped wearing cute shoes.  I gave away my boots, my slip-ons, even my silver and gold sparkly ballet flats. I loved those shoes. They literally looked good with everything.
My right foot hurt too much to wear them.  After several expensive trial and error pairs of tennis shoes, I settled on some pink and white Altras. Comfort trumped color.  But, what to wear to church? Every Sabbath step was agony and set my foot off for days.  It was time to get serious.  It was time to accept that my body thought it was dead, or nearly so. 

 I started wearing Grandma Shoes.  These are serious enough that they do in fact require capitalization. 

Grandma shoes look ridiculous with fancy dresses.  They look ridiculous with most dresses.
I have three pairs of these pricey shoes.  And they are super-dee-dooper-dee comfy. 


The sandals are actually pretty cute.  And the others, well, they are Grandma Shoes. 

I went into the SAS store on Saturday, planning to buy a pair of these:


The owner told me he wouldn't sell them to me.  He said he hated them.  They happened to be on clearance, but I saw them online and went in specifically to get these shoes. 

"They'll make your feet hurt. They haven't figured out how to make them right yet."

I asked about these ones, and he let me try them on to see for myself. 

He was right.  They slipped off my heels and pinched the sides of my feet. He suggested these instead:

I tried them on and found the right size and fit.  They are less bulky than the clunky black ones I have, but I still wasn't sure if they were going to fit the bill for the fancy dress up event I have later this week.  I grimaced. 

He understood.  He asked me how far away I lived. "15 minutes" I replied. 

"Take them home" he said. "No paperwork. Just take them and see how they look with your dress. Bring them back when you can." 

He could have made me buy them to take them home and see.  I still would have had to come back to return them. He didn't even ask me my name.  He just handed me the box and let me walk out of the store with $160 shoes. 

Today, I brought them back.  I might purchase them in the Winter time, but today I got a different pair - the same Grandma Shoes I have in beige and black, in a cool shimmery grey.  Yep, I'm embracing my Grandma Shoes.  I'll be wearing a long black skirt to that party with big old clunky, super comfy, Genuine Grandma Shoes on my feet.  And I'm sure some people will notice and wonder why a person who looks fairly young still wears shoes like that.  If they ask me, I'll skim over the chronic pain and share the story of the SAS shoe store owner who trusted me, a total stranger, and made it just a little bit easier to walk in my shoes.


Monday, January 15, 2018

Tender Mercies for Little People

Today I had to take Emmeline to the dentist for two fillings, a pulpotomy, and a crown. We have known for two weeks that she needed this, but hadn't been able to go in yet for several boring reasons. Last night, her tooth started to hurt quite a bit and she was very distressed due to both pain and fear. At this point I let her know that she would be going to the dentist today. I made the appointment last week, but didn't want to tell her too far in advance because her treatment plan, upon discovering she needed work done, was to "die before ever coming back to this dentist. Mommy you will have to drag my dead body here! If you tell me we are going, I will hide!" We prayed together as a family and she was able to calm down and sleep all night, but bright and early she came into my room, scared, hurting, and crying. For her, at only 7 years old, this problem was huge, just about as big and bad as anything she has ever faced. I held her in my arms for a moment before she looked over at me and asked me to pray. We folded our arms and I thanked God for the great privilege of living in America, for dentists, and for dental insurance. I asked Him to calm my little girl's fears, to help her feel peace, to help her to trust me, and Him, and the dentist. I asked Him to help her know He is real by answering this prayer and helping her feel peace. By the end we were both crying. We got up and got ready and she bravely entered the dentist's office holding two stuffed animals and my hand. Gone were the tears as she ran off to watch the T.V. After 10 minutes of waiting, an office manager came out and apologized as she explained that they had made a mistake and scheduled Emmeline for a cleaning, and that they couldn't see her yet. Could I come back in the afternoon? Luckily, I could come back, but I worried that this would cause Emmeline hours of distress. But, she was fine. We went home and got her sisters and went for a walk/bike ride. We came back and ate lunch, watched some TV, and I taught her a piano lesson. When it was time to go again, she grabbed her two stuffed animals and we loaded up in the car. As I drove Emmeline asked me, "Mommy, do you think Heavenly Father answered our prayer?"

"Well," I asked back, "Do you think He did? How have you felt today?"

"I think he did. I feel really good."

It's a small thing, but so are sparrows, and if God loves those little birds, think of how much he loves my little girl, and every little girl, and every little boy, and every man, and every woman.

He gave her peace. As I watched her transformation from wanting to do anything to avoid the work, to walking in calmly and sitting bravely in the chair for 30 minutes of needles and drills, without even needing to hold my hand, I KNOW that God answered that prayer.




Sunday, December 31, 2017

New Year- My Ten Realistic Resolutions for 2018

Ive decided to make official resolutions this year, and what better way to be accountable than to share them publicly?  Here they are:

You know that Twilight Zone deja vu feeling where you think "I've done this exact thing before"?Well, I've recently discovered that my life actually is on deja vu mode.  I am just finishing year 4 of a 5 year journal. Each page covers one date for all 5 years, so I can look back on that day and see what I was doing in past years.  Of course, the dates are all on different days of the week each year, cause that's how the years work, so you wouldn't think I'd be doing the SAME thing on the SAME day, except for holidays. But, a lot of the time, I do. It's creepy.  Like how on December 29th last year, I took my kids to the dentist. Then I did it again on December 29th this year.  And this just keeps happening, going to the temple with the same friend on the same day, or celebrating my birthday the exact same way.  It's time to shake it up baby! So. . .

 RESOLUTION #1 STOP COPYING MYSELF.  GET A LIFE AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS ON DIFFERENT DAYS.  MAKE MY JOURNAL PROUD!
I did try a bunch of new things this last year. That was a good journal day.


I turned 40 this year. My pants are feeling tight.  I hate that more than I hate Utahn's aggressive driving. So. . . .

RESOLUTION #2. HAVE PANTS THAT ARE NOT TIGHT THIS TIME NEXT YEAR.  IF I KEEP THIS VAGUE, I CAN DEFINITELY ACHIEVE THIS.
Whatever it takes

So, back to turning 40. I am definitely feeling old, cause, sadly,  I can't really control my body thinking it's a zombie, but I can control, somewhat, my self talk.  And, in addition to falling apart, I'm also getting wrinkles and gray hair. So. . .

RESOLUTION #3  LOVE MY CHANGING HAIR AND FACE.  THINK POSITIVE THOUGHTS LIKE" SPARKLY UNICORN HAIR, CELESTIAL LOCKS, LOVE LINES, CREASES OF JOY, AND MEMORY MARKS" instead of "GRAY HAIR, WRINKLES, or UGLY MIDDLE AGED BAG LADY."
What's not to love about this face? Don't answer that.

For about a year, I made it to the temple every week.  I loved this, but then I became PTA President and it got harder and more spread apart. And then I got out of the habit, so it's become more like 1-2 times per month. So. . .

RESOLUTION #4 GO TO THE TEMPLE WEEKLY.  MAKE AN APPT. AND KEEP IT! 

Just over a year ago, I finally wrote something "for real", the words to a song, "The Armor of God" and my dear friend wrote amazing music.  We are on our way to becoming what I like to call "Mormon famous" which means Mormons all over the world will know and love our song, but not really know who wrote it. You might be thinking, "Oh, they'll know," but I bet you don't know who wrote "I am a Child of God" and, if you do, it's cause you are a music nerd.  So. . .in addition to my goal of becoming Mormon famous. . . 

RESOLUTION #5 WRITE ANOTHER SONG WITH JENNETTE. AND WRITE A SONG BY MYSELF- A DECENT ONE THAT ISN'T ABOUT MY DOG KNOCKING DOWN MY CHRISTMAS TREE,  A SERIOUS SONG, CAUSE MY 4 LINE JELLYFISH SONG IS PRETTY GOOD, BUT I WANT TO HELP PEOPLE FEEL GOD'S LOVE, NOT JUST BE SILLY.

I really like to write, so I'm going to have two about writing.  I haven't quite finished my Otter story, although I've been working on it, so. . . 

RESOLUTION #6 FINISH THE OTTER STORY BY FEBRUARY.  WRITE ANOTHER STORY. SUBMIT AN ARTICLE/STORY TO A MAGAZINE.  
Yes, the door is covered in otter pictures.


Ever since I had to give up exercising, due to my leg problem, I haven't been very thirsty.  This might be part of why my pants have "shrunk". So. . . 

RESOLUTION #7 DRINK MORE WATER. MEASURE IT.  QUIT BEING A NINNY ABOUT HAVING TO PEE A LOT AND JUST DRINK THE WATER!  
I might need to get creative.


If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know I've been dealing with anxiety for about 3 years.  It was a lot better, but it's not so great right now. One of the worst symptoms is that I sometimes suddenly feel like I can't breathe, and then, well, I struggle to take a breathe. I'm not sure if it's the season, the poisonous air in Utah, my inability to exercise much, hormones, chemicals, genetics, or the planets aligning in a way that irritates my chi, so. . .

RESOLUTION #8 BREATHE.  RECOGNIZE THAT MY MIND IS POWERFUL AND THAT BREATHING IS A GOOD IDEA.  PRACTICE CONSCIOUS DEEP BREATHING AND RELAXATION. 




My kids are growing up really fast. My oldest left home in August and is hoping to go on a mission this next year. My next oldest will start his Senior year in 2018.My oldest daughter will start High School. The next two will be in 8th grade and 6th grade.  My baby will turn 8 and get baptized. Time just feels faster and faster the older I get.  I want to set a goal that is just for my children, so. . 

RESOLUTION #9. LISTEN. WHEN MY KIDS WANT ME OR NEED ME/ I WILL CONSISTENTLY GIVE THEM MY FULL ATTENTION AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AND THEN STRIVE TO TRULY LISTEN AND UNDERSTAND. Finish studying "How to talk so your kids will listen and listen so your kids will talk" to help me with this goal.
They are worth it!

I've heard that goals are accomplished by setting small goals that add up to large goals, so.. . 

RESOLUTION #10. MAKE A LIST OF SMALLER, MEASURABLE GOALS, WITH DEADLINES WHERE HELPFUL, THAT ADD UP TO THESE LARGER RESOLUTIONS. CHECK PROGRESS ON THE LAST DAY OF EVERY MONTH.

Well, that's it. Ten realistic resolutions. All I really have to do to achieve them is. . . . 
Try new things
buy new pants
Love my face
Serve the dead
Be creative
Drink
Breathe
Listen
and REPEAT! 

What are your resolutions?  

P.S. I'm relieved to report that I haven't blogged about this before, at least I think I haven't, although there's this strange feeling of deja vu right about now. . . 






Thursday, November 23, 2017

Life Isn't About Waiting for the Storm to Pass. . .

I was lucky enough to get to speak in another ward last Sunday as a companion speaker with the high counselor. The topic was dear to my heart and I'd like to share my talk with my blog following friends.  Happy Thanksgiving. May we all find something to be grateful for today!

Finding Blessings in Trials- How Gratitude Blesses Me As I Face Adversity

I have read the beginning of the Book of Mormon dozens of times.  Many of you are thinking these very words right now “I Nephi, having been born of goodly parents, therefore I was taught somewhat in all the learning of my father”  But, my memorization skills tend to falter right there.  I finished another cycle of studying the Book of Mormon a few weeks ago, so I started again. As I read this first  verse yet again, what comes next stuck out to me for the first time. It reads,        “and having seen many afflictions, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days.”

Nephi had to leave his hometown, which was later destroyed, with very little notice.  He had to return two times, once he was required to kill a man, and later to bring back a wife.  He didn’t get to choose whom he would marry.  He was mocked by his brothers as he followed God. He was violently physically abused and nearly killed- by his BROTHERS. His life was full of trials.  And in his own words, in the very first verse we have from him, he also tells us that he was highly favored of the Lord in ALL of his days.  
Nephi knew how to recognize the blessings in his life, not just in the good times, but especially during the trials.  

President Uchtdorf taught us:
It is easy to be grateful for things when life seems to be going our way. But what then of those times when what we wish for seems to be far out of reach?
Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances—whatever they may be.
Neph knew how to be grateful all the time, whatever the circumstances.  
“My dear brothers and sisters, the choice is ours. We can choose to limit our gratitude, based on the blessings we feel we lack. Or we can choose to be like Nephi, whose grateful heart never faltered. When his brothers tied him up on the ship—which he had built to take them to the promised land—his ankles and wrists were so sore “they had swollen exceedingly,” and a violent storm threatened to swallow him up in the depths of the sea. “Nevertheless,” Nephi said, “I did look unto my God, and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.”4- Uchtdorf


When I was 13 years old, my father lost his job. He was unable to find employment for quite some time until he found a job overseas. For the next year, he worked in the harsh wilderness of Siberia for 6 weeks on and 6 weeks off.  It was very hard for our family for him to be gone so much. Eventually, my dad was able to secure employment that allowed us to be with him.  With only a few weeks notice, in the fall of 1992, just one year after the fall of communism, 6 of us moved to Moscow, Russia.  For a while, I thought my life was over.  Instead of starting 9th grade, I got to start homeschool in the large hallway of our 1100 sq.ft apartment. Instead of being 1st chair in the symphonic band, a right I had earned at the end of 8th grade, I played the clarinet alone for my private instructor.  Instead of mutual activities, well, nothing.  Instead of TV, videotapes.  Instead of sunshine, we had snow.  I had to get rid of almost all of my belongings. I was allowed to bring a duffle bag of clothing and one rubbermaid tote of personal belongings.  And I got to keep one apple box full of “treasures.” in storage. And this is why I’m not making the big bucks selling my original My Little Ponies on ebay.  Instead of a large ward in Dallas Texas, we attended a small branch of recent Russian converts- in Russian of course.  For a week or so after moving there, I allowed myself to wallow in pity. I was only 14 and hadn’t experienced very many hardships. This was new territory for me. This pity party culminated in my sister and I crying our eyes out until we started laughing hysterically on our blow up mattresses one night, until we decided- we were stuck there- we might as well make the best of it. So, we did.  And, isn’t it funny how, once you embrace a challenge, it changes you in ways that a stroll down easy street never can?  

Russia changed me.  I would NEVER have chosen it.  I would NEVER have chosen to miss going to High School and all the other things I didn’t get to do.  Once my attitude changed, I would NEVER want to take it away.  We had so many blessed experiences, from assisting with international adoption, to serving in orphanages, being member missionaries, supporting full time missionaries, serving in the branches, moving to Vladivostok and introducing the church in that city of 600,000 people, and learning first hand how very blessed we are to live in America.  I will never take for granted soft toilet paper, peanut butter, baking powder, clean streets, or fully stocked grocery stores.  I also learned how to be happy without them- except soft toilet paper.

But, most importantly, I learned in Russia to look for the blessings in my life.  I didn’t always have a perfect attitude. One day I sat in a youth meeting, conducted in Russian, and I was feeling bored.  I made some comment to that effect to the missionary sitting next to me.  He asked to borrow my scriptures.  I handed them over and he wrote in them.  At first I was angry at him, but I soon came to feel deep gratitude. On the blank page at the beginning of my Book of Mormon, he had written, “Your attitude determines your altitude.”  Once I got over the shame of the reprimand, I was grateful for the message.  I can choose my attitude, whatever my circumstances.  I can look for the good.  I can look for the blessings and truly experience a grateful heart.


As I have been studying the scriptures these last few months, I have noticed a pattern of miracles accompanying ongoing afflictions.  Like Nephi, the Brother of Jared was righteous and favored of God. We are all familiar with his story of his language being preserved at the tower of Babel, traveling in the wilderness and being directed to build barges to travel to the promised land.  After building the barges, he realized they would not only suffocate with no air, but would suffer greatly with no light, and he took the matter to God in prayer. He was given an answer to cut holes in the top and bottom that could be stopped to prevent the water from coming in, but could also be opened to allow air. But, for the light, God said to the brother of Jared “What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels?” The Brother of Jared is a pure example of true faith - he worked hard, went into the mountain and did molten 16 clear stones, and then came to the  Lord in prayer again and asked Him to touch them with his finger and give them light.  And his faith was so strong that he saw the finger of the Lord as he touched the stones and was told “ never before has man come before me with such exceeding faith as thou hast”. His faith was so strong that the veil was fully parted and he saw Jesus Christ.
I think we can all agree this is one of the coolest miracles recorded in the Book of Mormon and that the Brother of Jared was a very righteous person.  But, even after this miracle, Jared and his people loaded into 8 barges which would become their claustrophobic homes for almost a year as they traveled to their new home. Yes, they had air and they had light, but could the children run and play?  Did they have soft beds?  Books to read? Toys to play with?  A nice variety of hot meals?  Soap? Privacy? What was it like when the barges flipped over? The journey must have been very very difficult.  God allowed these people not only to have guidance to make the trip possible, but a beautiful miracle of light to make it tolerable.  He also allowed them to experience the afflictions of such a difficult journey. He could have put them to sleep and flown them to America in an airplane.  Why didn’t he?  Why did he allow them to still suffer?  I think the answer is the same answer for all of us.  God gives us tender mercies, and he even gives us miracles. He also allows us to have trials and afflictions to give us the chance to grow and to learn how to be happy and grateful in all circumstances.  

Heavenly Father has blessed me with opportunities to find the blessings in trials and to focus on gratitude during afflictions.  And I have learned, just as happened to Nephi and the Brother of Jared, and many others, it is often while we walk through the refining fire that life’s most beautiful miracles are given to us.  

5 years ago in September of 2012, I had the privilege of undergoing major jaw surgery.  The procedure, called a lefort osteotomy, included detaching my teeth by completely cutting through my upper jaw bone, reshaping it, and putting it all back together with 5 plates and 25 screws.  I got to keep those in my face as a lifelong souvenir.   My mouth was banded shut between 8 and 24 hours a day for a year. Before the surgery, I had been in some level of constant pain for over 2 years. Thankfully, once healed from that surgery, my mouth no longer hurt. Actually, for a few months I couldn’t feel my top teeth at all due to the nerves being cut during surgery! I learned a lot about patience and long suffering during that time. Just two months after that surgery, I elected to have another surgery for an unrelated condition.  I had met my max out of pocket for the year, so it made sense.  When they wheeled me back for surgery, I had to remove the bands keeping my jaw shut, and reminded them to be careful of my healing jaw when they intubated me.  Shortly after the surgery, Brother Gary Thomas asked to meet with me to extend a new calling to me. I hobbled to his house three doors down from mine, and accepted the new calling and eventually I was set apart at church when I was able to attend again. The recovery from my first surgery was so difficult that my surgeon had advised me to to research the surgery beforehand, but it was necessary and successful. But, the recovery from this second surgery had also been very rough, and in the end, the surgery had not only failed, but left me with new and worsened symptoms that were debilitating. Because of this, I was in a great deal of pain and struggling to function normally and care for my 6 young children.  I came into the room to be set apart by Brother Thomas.  Before he began, I said to him. “Brother Thomas, I am not doing well.  I need you to give me a powerful blessing so that I will be able to fulfill this calling.”  These words were an understatement of what I was really feeling.  I needed a miracle.  He took my request in stride and proceeded to give me a beautiful blessing, in which he promised me that the symptoms I was having would gradually improve. I hadn’t given him any details about what was going on, but Heavenly Father knew what was going on, and gave him the words and the power to give me the blessing I needed.  Over the next three months, bit by bit, those new symptoms did improve and resolve, but I was not magically healed from the original condition.  I still have that and I likely will always have it.   There are two ways I could have viewed this situation- I could express sadness, anger, and distress. I could question why God hadn’t healed me completely. These would be understandable reactions, and I did feel upset that the surgery had failed.  But, instead of seeing my life through the window of sorrow, I chose to see the trial through the lens of the miracle. God did heal me from the new symptoms- exactly as much healing as I needed to be able to fulfill my mission.  He was aware of me, my pain, and my suffering. He couldn’t take it all away. For some reason, it wouldn’t be best for me. But, I have noticed, that in every trial, there are blessings. Some are very easy to see, like physical healing or stones glowing and lighting a barge, or a ball of curious workmanship with messages and directions.  Some are more subtle, like burdens becoming lighter or strength to withstand chronic pain.  But, we must always look for them.  
When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace.- Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The older I get, the more chances in life I have to practice feeling gratitude no matter what.  I have been blessed with the trial of health problems and chronic pain for the last 7 ½ years.  Would I take away that pain if I could?  Probably.  Would I take away how it has changed me?  Never.  So, I guess I wouldn’t really choose to take the pain away either- because the refinement is worth the suffering. Although, sometimes I think, “I’ve learned it. I’m ready to stop hurting now.”    
President Uchtdorf taught us to keep an eternal perspective:
In any circumstance, our sense of gratitude is nourished by the many and sacred truths we do know: that our Father has given His children the great plan of happiness; that through the Atonement of His Son, Jesus Christ, we can live forever with our loved ones; that in the end, we will have glorious, perfect, and immortal bodies, unburdened by sickness or disability; and that our tears of sadness and loss will be replaced with an abundance of happiness and joy, “good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.”10-  Uchtdorf

I know these things to be true and bear my testimony that when we are choose to feel gratitude, especially during trials, we will be filled with happiness and joy, no matter our circumstances, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

The Christmas Present I Happily Waited 11 Months to Receive



Last year my brother David had my name for the sibling gift exchange.  He didn't give me anything. . . just kidding. Well, sort of.  He gave me a promise that he would build me a window seat in my bay window in my kitchen. All I had to do was pay for the materials and do the finishing work of sanding and painting.  But, he was busy and wouldn't be able to do it until the Summer time.  I was okay with that.  The long awaited day came, late in July, and David was going to come the next day. 

And then his wife went into labor.

Fast forward 3 months or so. He was able to come and with the help of his wife and me, but mostly him, the bay window area was transformed. A week and a half later, it's ready to use. Here is the story of my window seat's creation, in photos.

Once I had a perfectly fine bay window.  It usually housed one or two chairs next to the table.  
But it wanted to be so much more.

David was careful to secure the 2X4's through the grout so he wouldn't break the tile.  He also had to reroute the heat vent.

My brother is awesome and he has some sweet power tools.
He worked really hard and pretty fast and had this done in just a few hours. 

All done with the construction. To get to this point cost about $105. That included buying a new vent cover and a big box of screws.


It has storage inside! I decided to go with white and had a 5 gallon bucket of paint made up to match the white that is already in my house which I haven't touched up in the 10 years we have lived here, cause I didn't have the paint. 


I bought a foam camp pad for $20 and cut it to the exact size. Then I topped it with one inch of up-cycled memory foam. This involved making a paper template, which was a huge pain in the back, and lots of cutting.  I also sewed a cover for it. It took me 6 hours to make the template, cut the foam, and sew the cover.  I used some purple cotton fabric I inherited from my grandmother's stash. My back was really sore from bending over for so long.

My mom let me raid HER fabric stash for the outer cover and I found some beautiful corduroy.  I washed it in case of shrinking because I expect that I might need to wash it again.


I then very carefully cut out the pieces for the outer cover.  It took me 2 hours!  I had to line it up perfectly with the fabric and this was tricky. But, I did a pretty good job. My mom did ALL of the sewing for this outer cover, including putting in two zippers that meet in the middle of the back.  It looks so good!


My mom's machine is really old and solid metal and very beautiful. They just don't make stuff like it anymore.  
This part was fun!



We didn't realize how big it was until it was on my mom's couch.


A well earned break.


And, finally, after caulking, painting, cutting, sewing, and even shortening the curtains, it is finished!


I also borrowed my brother's sander and refinished the table.  I couldn't stand how gross it looked next to the nice new window seat.


I think this is going to be a well loved spot.


Thank you David and Laura and Mom for the gift of your time, your materials, and your machines and this beautiful window seat! 
I LOVE IT!

Sunday, August 6, 2017

My Lips are on Fire and I'm So Happy!

Lately, I've been thinking about a meal my mom used to make when I was a kid. It was so delicious and I could EXACTLY imagine the taste of that tantalizing food warming my mouth and awakening my taste buds.  It was so good! My mom is a great cook and I loved a lot of things she made, but this Chicken Jambalaya dish was one of my favorites and I couldn't stop thinking about it. So, yesterday my mom pulled out her 50 year old cookbook where she has handwritten recipes and clippings from newspapers and magazines, and she hand copied this recipe for me. This recipe was given to her by her mother who got it from a chef in . . .  It's very simple and isn't really the most attractive when plated, but I don't care.  If a person could eat a memory, this would be it. My brain and mouth started to salivate as I anticipated what was going to be going in my mouth for dinner sometime soon.  I wouldn't have to wait long, cause I'm the grown up, and I decide what is for dinner.

So, tonight became the night for a stroll down memory lane.

I already had almost everything I needed, except fresh parsley and tomato paste, two items I don't usually purchase.  A quick trip to the store yielded the tomato paste, but no luck on the parsley, so I decided to go with dried.  With help from my daughter, we made this recipe for dinner tonight.  It was so easy, which was a blessing because I also had to make macaroni and cheese for the picky people- which is everyone except me and Amy.

And. . . .

it came out PERFECT!  It tasted exactly like I remember.  Happy happy happy dance.

I left out the cayenne because Amy doesn't like spicy. Instead I just sprinkled some into my serving.  And then, of course, I needed a small second serving and I sprinkled a little more cayenne on that, and took a quick bite before stirring it in.

That was stupid, and now, 20 minutes later, the searing fire of face melting death shockwaves has stopped and my lips feel much better. But, it was SO worth it!

For a few minutes I was back in Garland Texas sitting at our banjo table on a 5 gallon pickle bucket, surrounded by my brothers and sisters and my parents, happy, satisfied, and full of more than just good food.  My childhood, while imperfect, still cocooned me sweetly and safely while I grew into a woman and then a mother.  A large part of those happy memories are centered around good food and time together.  I hope my kiddos will have similar memories and want to recreate some of them for their kids, passing down knowledge and love through the generations - keeping both the memories and the people alive.
Here's the recipe:

CHICKEN JAMBALAYA*
serves 8

one 3 pound chicken -cook and bone

Saute the following ingredients until veggies are 1/2 done:

1/2 cup oil ( I used olive oil)
1 tsp. tomato paste
2 c. chopped onion
1 c. chopped celery
3 cloves garlic, minced

Add the following and simmer until the veggies are the consistency you like:

1/4 cup chopped green onion
1/4 cup chopped parsley ( I used 1 Tbsp. dried)
1 cup chicken broth or water
2 cups chicken
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/3-1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper

Serve over rice.

I used a Costco rotisserie chicken. After my family ate the breast meat, I threw the rest in the pressure cooker, covered in water, for 2 hours on high pressure.  This gave me plenty of meat and broth to spare.

*This recipe is from my grandmother Mary who got it from a chef at a Cajun restaurant in Houston Texas in the early 1970's.  She gave it to my mother who gave it to me.