The Future of Opera

People say they don't like musicals because they seem so unrealistic, busting out into song randomly. Pshaw, says me, my house is so musical is practically operatic.



As I watch this I hear myself ignoring Canon's desire to be included as I focus the majority of my attention on baby girl. Gotta be more aware of that ... it is how sibling rivalries and middle child syndromes begin. I want my kids to be good friends - Roths Stick Together.

Issues With The Underwear, Part II

Seriously, I am so sorry, laundry issues ought not be on blogs, and yet, here we are.

Canon - now 3, is struggling with potty training. Well, no, he's not I am. Yesterday, *Baba Yaga snuck up and whispered, "Canon pooped on the floor."

"What?"

Much louder, and witchier, "CANON pooped on the floor!"

Sigh. "Where? Show me."

Baba Yaga flies to the living room and shows me a pile, revealing instantly what had happened to the bag of carrots.

Thank God for Lysol in a can.

I grabbed a paper towel, gingerly picked up the log, and handed it to my kid, "Poop goes in the potty, not on the floor. Go put this in the potty and flush it."

Bob knows I love Bounty paper towels, but they are no friend of the low flush toilet. So as I am trying to teach my kid how to flush, I have to emphasize NOT to plunge, mommy plunges, Canon no plunge. Toilet plungers are not toys.

Again, praises to Lysol. Though, I don't think they have lye in them, I think its alcohol - Alcosol? What's wrong with that for a name? Accuracy seems like a good thing.

So as we potty train, the less clothes to get in the way, the better. To cut to the chase, my 2 3 year old grabbed some of my underwear (that my husband so lovingly DUMPED all over the floor for me this morning) and was running around in it. Such a bizarre moment of absurdity, hearing myself declare: "CANON! Take off my underwear ...."

*a bizzare Christmas witch Crichton made at school and rediscovered when he cleaned out his desk.

Really cool art from Alex Tuis

Things Can Be Fixed - How Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenence Saved me over $100

When we moved into our house, I was very excited to get a pet. I ended up adopting a kitty who's owner was leaving the state - kitty came with a Littermaid automatic litter box, toys, dishes, food; it was great - they say there is no such thing as a free kitten, but this cat was as close as it comes.

Even with the ease of the auto litter box, sometimes I would go days ... okay, weeks without changing the plastic receptacle - sorry kitty.

Then we got Milo (kitty 2) and I devised an even easier method of litter box cleaning: put a plastic grocery bag over the disposable plastic receptacle and get my 6 yr old to change the bag everyday.

But then, the day I almost killed myself making deadly chlorine gas out of cat pee and bleach, I broke my beloved litter box. The little cord on the rake that scoops the clumps broke.

Those suckers are expensive and money is no friend of mine. No cheap replacements on KSL or Craigslist. So we went for weeks doing it old school.

But we didn't do it very well and the litter box was no longer good enough to pee in, so kitty started peeing on piles of clothes and in corners and such.

You know, in '07-'08 I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (it took me a very long time), but I never reviewed it or really shared the impact it had on me. On of the biggest things I took away was an awareness of the mental wall I put up when it comes to understanding technology. Or even math. And last year I read the sequel to Ember - People of Sparks - a post apocalyptic story where people no longer know how to use the technology of previous generations. I worry about stuff like that - I don't know how a light bulb works, how electricity works, how cars and motorcycles work. It is all magic to me.

So, broken kitty litter box, lazy kid, ZMM inspired - I wondered if maybe I could fix it. It was broken anyway,worth a try. Found a website. Gave it a try.

I took the screwdriver and started to dig in. Originally I thought the broken wire was just like a guide wire, if I hooked it to the other end, it'd be better. But, no, it was an actual electrical wire.

Hey, guess what, I stripped wires (after briefly reviewing how this is done with husband over the phone), attached black to black and black/white to black/white, electrical taped them separately, then together, plugged it in (nothing exploded), turned it on (no fires), and IT WORKED!

SO - if nothing else, the $12 book saved me like a hundred bucks, but much more than that - these little triumphs in my life, demystifying the magical devices around me, makes me stronger and more confident. Think how many times something has stopped working and you just had to throw it away. No one takes things to be repaired anymore - we throw it away and by new ones. We need to stop that guys, we need to educate ourselves and repair stuff; we need to stop being so wasteful. Ok? So ... there you go, THINGS CAN BE FIXED.

Projectile Vomit: Freedom, Separation of Church and State, Self Righteous Mormons, Prophets Duty To World, and Racism

I apologize, I have started to respond to comments numerous times and been distracted away. So much to say - you'll be happy to hear my house is clean (ish).

I apologize to any who might have taken offense by my word or other commenters.

I'm too lazy to go back into my comments to quote and directly respond, sometimes I think how awesome it would be to get all my diverse commenters together to discuss "things." I hope everyone realizes that it's not so important to make people agree with us, its important to see things from another point of view, even if we disagree. It's good, when discussing the unprovable, to think to yourself,"I might be wrong."

So, all my rebuttals, spewed out like projectile vomit:

1. Freedom must be tempered with limitations or it becomes chaos. People need a certain level of individual restraint or a free society will collapse into anarchy. Liberty must be bookended by Responsibility ... THIS is why America is sucking it up right now - people don't get that it's not all about me, my wants, my needs, MY HAPPINESS, but it's about making sacrifices to booster the next generation. For our society to continue to progress, we have to put the best interests of children FIRST. Children all over the blessed earth.


2. I love the US Constitution. In my life, its words ARE scripture (sacred, multi-interpretational, words of God filtered through great, wise men; all that crap). Although I think it is vital for the State to remain separate from religion, I'm not sure how the citizens of the state can do anything BUT vote based on religion convictions. If I think unecessary abortions are the equivalent of murder, how can I vote to keep them legal?! If I believe the key component to a marriage is the uniting of the opposites of our species to establish a balanced environment for the rearing of children, not just public commitment to love (and probably fornicate with) another adult; if I hold procreation to be the sacred duty of married couples, and the rearing of children, a commitment to God, how can I support gay marriage, "quick" and "easy" divorce (when children are involved), full-time day-care, or day light savings time? If I believe in God's forgiveness to the repentant soul, how can I justify the death penalty? There are some issues that don't need so much "social intervention," as adults can and should be able to read and say things I find offensive, BUT we must protect children (please, won't somebody think of the children - Mrs. Lovejoy, The Simpsons). Seriously, let adults eff up their lives, but when children are involved, can we just try to make things as smooth as possible?

3. Look, my fellow members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, can we all really pull back a bit more when it comes to Godly expectations as we apply them to others and work a bit harder on simply the love one another bit? You MUST NOT quote Matthew 5:48 out of context. That "perfect" is better translated as "complete," not "without sin." That's how I can say, "I am perfect," even though, clearly, I am not without sin. God didn't say work on being perfect - he said be perfect (read the JST, too). I've got to say, as I read it, being perfect has a lot more to do with how we treat others, not how to judge their actions.

We claim to have personal revelation and believe our prophets receive revelation from God for the world, but when you casually throw around judgements, even unintentionally, like suggesting that those who drink coffee/tea/wine are breaking a commandment from God, they just don't know it, that tends to "deeply offend" them. Then, when the missionaries come knocking, you've essentially given someone the mortar to build a wall against hearing the gospel you claim to cherish. While I appreciate people of vastly different faiths and opinions commenting and discussing these very personal opinions here on my blog, please, just trust me, NEVER get preachy all over someone you don't PERSONALLY know and LOVE. It will never come out as anything but self-righteous. You will have become TAMN.

4. Why did God tell Jonah to go preach to the sinners of Nineveh? What right or authority did he have to tell them ANYTHING? None, but God said to or He'd have to punish them. Reluctantly, Jonah did as he was told (eventually) and had great success - then Ninevites had a miraculous change of heart and God blessed them. Jonah got all pouty about that (seems he was kind of a jerky prophet) - seems he didn't trust in God's right to forgive whom He would. The point is, the LDS Prophets, Apostles, and members have, to their belief (and mine), been commanded by God to cry repentance and spread the gospel and love of Jesus Christ to the world. The people of the world have free will to listen and heed or reject, for whatever reason. I am not here to force or coerce or judge you, just love you and share what I hold sacred.

One of my favorite gospel sharing analogies is the Orange Juice Analogy. Some Mormons are so concerned that you don't like our glass (the One True Glass). It makes them very anxious: you will just die if you don't want to drink it out of my cup. They don't realize that they are smashing the cup into your bloody face. Citrus is nice, but not in an open wound. Sometimes we overlook that, yes indeed, you have your own delicious orange juice, you drink it all the time out of a different colored cup, but it's essentially the same product. We should offer our juice, out of courtesy, but not be offended if you're not thirsty. We should be happy to compare individual juicy merits: why we like our juice, listen to why you like yours. Be thrilled if you want to sample a bit of ours, not be afraid to sample yours.

If you've never taken a moment to listen to what the prophet of the Mormon church is saying to the world, how do you know you are offended by it? Just that he would have the audacity to speak for God to the world? Like Jonah, if he is truly called by God, how could he "get out of it?"

5. About racism. I am so happy that my child's Karate Sensai is black. Without me saying a word, he is able to treat with respect and learn under a person of a different race. He can come to the conclusion himself that skin color is just a description, not a way to judge worth. Cri has never mentioned that his Sensai is black - I don't know if he's aware, I like to think, in my kid's mind, it's a trivial detail, like eye color or income level.

When people make race an issue, it becomes an issue. Like when I'm one of only a few women in a large group, I feel I am being treated and judged differently, I understand that minorities naturally fall into a defensive posture. I can't use it as an excuse. As long as I do the best I can, whatever my situation, it matters only what God thinks. YES, we need to keep working towards equality; of course slavery was a terrible sin in America's history, it taints our prosperity still. But, just as I don't blame Egyptians for enslaving my Jewish ancestors (I'm sure I have some somewhere), can America forgive the wrongdoers of times gone by? I'm literally asking permission to let go of my "White Guilt." If you say "no," I'll hold it, but it makes me bitter to be held accountable for sins I did not commit and only profit from indirectly, as my direct ancestors did not leave Europe until the late, late 1800's.

5 is my lucky number so that's enough for now.

America Is Not A Theocracy

You know how it is when you've only had 2 hours of sleep since yesterday morning, but a whole lotta Pepsi and you just can't sleep because your feet are cold and your foot warmer is still at working trying to get a million lines of code to function elegantly?

My favorite constitutional amendment, after Women's Suffrage (19), it good old number one:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

(I also liked prohibition - without, we might not have Henry Weinhart's Cream Soda mmmmm)

Back to my little discussion - It was stated thus:

you state that marriage is a covenant between man, woman, and God....BUT the thing is, we don't live in a theocracy....we never did in this country

EXACTAMUNDO! This is not a theocracy, what does the government think it is doing touching the holy sacrament of marriage?

Now, don't tell me marriage isn't about God. Where do MOST people get married? In a church. Who performs the marriage? Some authorized ecclesiastical leader.

In Germany, I hear, you get married legally at town hall, then run down to the church for the ceremony. Well, not run, they probably have cars over there - little cute ones with flower pots.

THAT is how America should do it.

I really want a little red VW Beetle with a convertible top ...

If you're not religious, there's no need for the pretense; sign the documents, merge your assets and responsibilities and take a nice vacation. Somewhere warm, but without hordes of insects.

If you are religious, marriage is more than legal obligation, it's a covenant with God and the ecclesiastical officiator needs to make sure the individuals are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices. Like getting up early to make sure your husband has clean pants and TWO tube socks because, evidently, one can wear shorts in November, but not JANUARY, its effing cold in JANUARY.

The problem is our society makes like the party, the wedding and reception, it the important part. More time is spent picking out the flowers and dress than discussing finances or distribution of labor.

In conclusion, marriage and the legal joining of assets, etc are TWO distinct things. Under separation of church and state, I NOW DECLARE it unconstitutional some thing something something zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...............................

And Then Came the Day When My Duty as a Mom Overcame my Obligation as a Daughter

Let me just lay it out for you, concisely (so you don't get bored, like last post):

1. Sagan cried all night.
   
2. It was a cold and snowy day.
3. My Pepsi supply was running short, along with my patience and attention span.
   
4. At 3:30 my mom took the bus to the mall to see a movie.
5. At 4:00 my baby woke from her nap with a lot of ear discharge.
6. At 5:00 my husband informs me he is hopelessly bogged down at work and may never come home.
7. I debate whether or not to take baby and her 2 brothers to Kids' Care clinic. She's not feverish, so I pray for her immune system.
   
8. At 5:45, I bundle all my kids into the car and take Crichton to Karate.
9. On the way home, both my little ones fall asleep and stay asleep when I bring them in.
   
10. At 6:19 my mother calls my cell phone. I know she wants a ride, and I know I can't SAY "no." I ignore it.
11. At 6:20, she calls again. I ignore it and she leaves a voice mail saying she missed the last bus (buses from the mall stop at 6???) and asking for a ride home.
    
12. From 6:22 to 6:42, she calls 5 more times.
    
13. In my mind, I think: she chose to go to the movie, my baby is sick, the kids are asleep, I'm not going to wake them up, bundle and buckle; she can walk 6 blocks. But I am too big of a coward to SAY so.
    
14. At 6:55 I put the kids in the car because I have to pick up Crichton (daddy's still at work). I see her walking just a block from my home.

Alright, so before you criticize me for making the woman who gave me life walk in the cold, let me remind you that the years I had Early Morning Seminary in high school, I walked to school, alone, in the dark, through the scariest part of town, rain, snow, cold. No one, certainly not my parents, gave me a ride.

Here's a map of my old home town and the path I took - about 13 blocks. That's the famous Snake River on the edge.
So, fine, I'm terrible. I am a weak and small person. I can't say my mother taught me, but the biggest thing I learned from my upbringing is that I have to do everything myself - and it's not a very realistic or helpful lesson ...

more of an impossible lie, really, that just makes my life harder ...

I think I feel like taking a walk ...

The Never Ending Debate - I Can't Not Rebut - Why I Think The LDS Prophet is Responsibile For The World

I tried to be innocuous with my dissertation on Gay Marriage Flip-Flop, sneak it in the end of two terribly long posts, one of old throwaways, but I have a watchdog commenter who would never let me be lazy about my analysis and is always vocal when she thinks I am wrong. I admire her courage to speak her mind and welcome her thoughts and views on my blog, however lengthy. It is very nice a little annoying challenging to have readers who don't always say, "Right on Brandy, I completely agree with you" - the agreers might stroke the ego, but it can massage the brain into a coma.

So, I will take one point of dissension a day and clarify my point, if I can.

As is my way, I shall beat around the bush a little first - here are the paragraphs I am contending today:

Finally, I just have to ask--what does that mean that your prophet's stewardship is the whole world? Because if you are suggesting that he is in charge of the spiritual well being of the whole world, I can tell you that there are several billion Catholics, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Muslims, and lots of other people who would greatly disagree. The Prophet may be an important messenger to you and others, but he does not have the whole world in his hands....God does.

... If you choose to follow your Prophet, that's fine, and God bless.

Today's resolution: The prophet of the LDS church is in charge of the spiritual well being of the entire world.

(I know, pretty damn audacious, no?)

First, if you don't believe in God, if you don't believe in Jesus Christ as the Savior, if you don't believe in modern revelation, personal and otherwise - it shouldn't matter to you what a bunch of Mormons think. Don't throw rocks at the missionaries, don't offer them a cup of coffee, just politely tell them you are not interested. You can just dismiss it as religious fanaticism and go along your merry way.

Anyone left?

I believe in God, the Eternal Father as a separate unique person from Jesus Christ. I believe the purpose of life is to learn to how to gain control over the physical aspect of our soul.

(Do I need to backtrack? I say we have existed and will exist, in some form, forever (conservation of mass and energy); God formed our souls. As spirits, before he created Earth, he explained "the plan," and those who were obedient to God's will got bodies, while those who chose to follow Lucifer will never progress beyond their spirit forms - yeah for the Ghost Hunters)

It may or may not be official church doctrine, but it is my impression that the key to further progression is being able to align our will with God's, despite physical temptations (she says, sipping her Wild Cherry Pepsi, hanging her head in shame). As spirits living in the presence of God, it seems like it would have been pretty easy to align our will to God's, but 1/3 took issue with it. I imagine that in the same way a spirit with a physical body (LDS definition of "soul") has far greater capacity to effect the universe, should we be able to learn how to overcome the selfishness of this physical existence, we will progress in power greatly.

All very mythical - it's okay - I'm not asking YOU to believe it, I'm telling you where I'm coming from - makes sense to me. It really does.

So I believe in God. I believe in the vital importance of free agency (choice) to this test of life: whether or not I can do God's will "blind." I mess up. Like, a lot. A freaking lot. But, you can't pass this level of existence if you don't do it perfectly - THUS (tah dah) a Savior, Jesus Christ. You take on the name of Jesus Christ and (have you played the game Braid? You just rewind and try again like you never messed up) you have the means by which you can repent of your wrongs and it's all good. I can't pretend to know exactly how this all works, the atonement of Christ, but I do believe that without faith in a Savior, I would be personally responsible to suffer for all my sins. Perhaps, if you've never allowed yourself to feel the incredible weight and pain that comes from truly acknowledging that you've acted contrary to God's will, this is senseless, but I think most people will acknowledge that there is a right way to behave and suffering comes from living contrary to the right.

God, Savior, where am I? Oh yes, organization of God' Church. If you believe that the Son of God was a demi-mortal called Jesus, then you might be interested in learning what kind of church he organized,that you might join up. Jesus, I hear, was a good Jewish boy. If you want to read a really good book about his life as a child, I highly recommend Anne Rice (as in Interview With a Vampire, Anne Rice, she converted to Christianity) Christ The Lord Out Of Egypt. He grows up, fasts for 40 days, makes a few enemies, tells us to love God and one another, gets crucified. BUT that's just the first four books of the New Testament. There really is specific organization, an order of authority of the priesthood all lined out in the Bible.

So then, either the church of Christ becomes the Catholic Church and has maintained authority from God since the ascension of Christ OR the authorized leaders of the Church (Peter, James, John; the 12 Apostles) were murdered before they were able to pass on their authority to worthy replacements and all the various sects of Christians, without direct, unified guidance, fell into confusion and a great apostasy commenced, where for the most part, much of the pure gospel of Christ was adapted to meet the political and personal needs of various religious leaders of the time. Knowing what I do about how "Christians" did "business" in the Dark ages, I'm think the light of Christ was but a spark in a few sincere hearts for a while.

Now on to prophets (check my definition so you know where I'm starting from). So, if you have any faith in the Bible, you recognize how God utilized prophets. I see absolutely no reason to think that God would have no further need of prophets AD. However, how useful would it have been to call a prophet to tell Pope Innocent the VIII to repent? So, time passes ... a Renaissance begins, a free land is established and, to my belief, the world was ready for pure Christianity, thus, a prophet was called and the reorganization of the Church of Jesus Christ upon the earth began.

When Jesus Christ was alive on the Earth, he was the head of the Church. Before he died he passed authority to Peter (my personal favorite, with his faith and his doubts, his courage and fear). Peter was the leader after Jesus' resurrection and ascension and he worked with a quorum of 12 Apostles. Who tried to keep all the new little Christian communities on the same page, calling them to repentance, teaching the the gospel to the Jews. In Acts 10, Peter receives a vision from God to take the Gospel to the Gentiles and then it becomes the duty of an Apostle of the Lord to preach the gospel all four corners of the earth (that was before the earth was round, mind you).

As a member of the LDS church, I believe mine to be the reorganized church of Jesus Christ. I believe God calls men to be prophets, to teach the Truth to the world, in a organized, heirarchial way. I believe that when Jesus said be baptized as he was, he meant it literally, by immersion by one having the authority from God to do so. I believe that God loves us as his children and that he gives us the tools and guidance we need to perfect ourselves (mind you, my definition of perfect is a little up in the air.)

NOW. I have a hard time with Chemistry. Electron shells, anti-matter, all that malarky sounds like silliness to me and it's not exactly observable, though a few "privileged" claim to have seen. I have personal experience with gravity and acceleration, but I'm not 100% convinced about all specific formulas they have devised to calculate the speed of the planets and such. Black Holes, whatever, complete mythology. However, my personal belief and limited experience and knowledge or lack there of does not change Truth.

The billions of multiple various religions, faiths, and non-believers can deny that the men I call prophets have any power or authority until the end of days; that is their God given right. Even so, if these men ARE prophets, as I believe them to be, they are responsible to God to do their best to bring the Truth to every man, woman, and child on the face of the earth, to give each individual the opportunity to accept or reject the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I'm not worried for your soul, even, no, especially if you reject very word I have written. I'm not a big old hell fire to all non-believers kind of girl. God knows all that we go through and exactly why we do what we do - he understands. It'll be ok, I am confident, supremely confident that everything will work out swimmingly. It is me you should worry about - I ought not be drinking Wild Cherry Pepsi, I ought to be going to the temple much more often, ought to be reading my scriptures and engaging in sincere prayer and meditation. I should be doing more to fulfill my church callings and be a kinder more generous neighbor. I claim to have all this glorious Divine guidance and inspiration, personally revealed confirmation that the prophet is proclaiming God's will, and yet ... I consistently fall short, knowingly make choices contrary to what I have been taught. But you know you can repent, Brandy, you have faith in the atonement ... yeah, but I'm not actively, habitually begging for repentance. I assure you, as far as my beliefs go, my soul is much closer to damnation that anyone who disagrees with me. The beam is in my eye.

Let Freedom Ring

Crichton wrote his first school essay. Look at that handwriting! My handwriting was about that good in 6th grade (I got a C in penmanship from Mrs. Woodland and I am still bitter).

Anyway, so, as the boy says, it's okay to have different goals (I'm not sure exactly what he means by that in the context of the paper, but it's true, nonetheless).

Panspermia

Hi. I'm a skeptic. No, I am. I have gotten over feeling guilty about my doubts. I like things neatly proven. Things are a certain way.

I don't like surprises.

Also, I am a believer. I believe a lot of wacky things, too. In fact, I am perfectly fine believing in unprovable things.

I like to pronounce draw as "drawr" and wash as "warsh." For fun. It amuses me - especially when people try to correct me.

Now that that is out of the way, I am not in favor of prayer in school or teaching creationism (7 days, Adam and Eve, that stuff). The point isn't whether or not I believe in the power of prayer (which I do) or that the Bible is the literal word of God (I have my concerns) - the point is I don't want the school to misteach my kids. I want the schools to teach my kids the facts and, if they are lucky, how to analyze alleged facts.

Facts like Darwin's theory of evolution.

Watching Netflix documentaries on XBOX Live is my new favorite pastime. I watched Expelled No Intelligence Allowed - the Ben Stein film that sheds some light on Intelligent Design and Darwinism. Not a lot of light, and the light has a colored gel over it, but it does make an interesting point: there is no scientifically proven theory for how life began.

We "know" there was a bunch of gases hanging around in the atmosphere, then POOF organic chemistry and the miracle of life. But scientists can't replicate it. They've got no idea how it began - Darwinism and evolution only starts explaining stuff after life starts. Even then, I have serious doubts as to single celled amoeba eventually becoming me.

So, today I'm supporting panspermia. It's not so different from my religious beliefs. Really.

So I'm good with intelligent design, don't see any reason why it can't be taught right along with Darwin ... they're just just theories, places to start a hypothesis. Leave Eve out of it, I'll take care of that part of education, thanks, but for crying out loud, you can't just dump a million pieces out on the floor and make a completely perfect puzzle.

It just doesn't work that way.

I Went All The Way On a First Date

Ha ha, I'm just trying to tantalize and titillate you with the title. Don't read this post if too much information might be a problem for you. Just stop, it's okay, I'll put pictures of the kids up some other time.

Now, Greg and I ... ten years of marriage - to the best of my knowledge, we are each other's sexual history. Mind you - things are pretty straight forward in our romantic life. There are no costumes, toys, knick-knacks, or characters involved in the bedroom. Which is not to say that it is boring, by any stretch of the imagination. Greg ... he is not a silly boy; I'm silly enough for both of us (like when the Tiny Tunes theme song was stuck in my head ...). Everyone goes to sleep happy, usually unharmed, so all is well, really well.

Last night, I had a date - Greg and I had tickets to go to a small place and see an up and coming group of musicians do their lovely thing. My mom was babysitting for us, I made them spaghetti dinner and said good bye.

As I was driving (by the way, glowing orbs, it means fog, now I get it) I decided to pretend I was a single girl having a first date IRL with a guy I had met on-line. We'd e-mailed and IMed and were going to meet and see what have you.

You never want to have an on-line guy meet you at your house, in case he's a freak, right?

And wouldn't you know, I missed the damn exit. I was supposed to take the 6th North exit and didn't realize I had missed it until like 32nd South. So I had to call and tell him I was going to be a little late - then there was a traffic jam ... ug. Very typical of what a first date would be like, I imagine.

So I got to his office, called, he came out. I didn't kiss him or grab his hand; I asked him how work went.

"Worky," he said, and I followed him to his car (because it's cooler than my minivan).

He didn't open the door for me.

There was me, trying to be cute and witty to impress this guy I kind of really like. Judging him to see if he was worth my time and energy.

(It didn't work perfectly, because I didn't tell husband about my mental game - him asking about Canon's penis infection threw me right out of character)

He asked if I was hungry, should we get some food first? I suggested Costa Vida - no, he had Costa Vida for lunch.

My character slipped, it's always like this: I suggest, he shoots down and waits for another suggestion to shoot down.

"You didn't like my idea, I'm good where ever: you pick. Ooh, how about a Margarita Pizza (California Pizza Kitchen)?"

"Well, they kind of take a long time..."

I get a little pouty.

"How about Costa Vida?" he asks smiling.

He pays for my food for me, which is nice, since I "forgot" to bring my purse with me.

So, I'm totally pretending this is our first date, trying to think of clever things to say, feeling neurotic and quirky, like a little freak, but hoping he likes me. He finishes off my chicken quesadilla, "Can't let that cheesy goodness go to waste," he explains.

Then, we're off to our concert: Lenka. Her music is very cute and upbeat. It's grown on me. I felt cool, going to the concert of someone I'd actually seen on VH1. Except this wasn't a big old sports arena. We turned down a dark street (Greg ignored the helpful directions I gleaned from Google Maps, though I can't blame him seeing as how I'd gotten lost on the way to meet him), then we parked across from this alley. We walked down the alley, showed our email confirmation, went into this little shed/garagey place - with cobwebs in the light fixtures.

I kept doing the look at him and look away thing. "What" he'd ask, a little self-consciously. I'd smile. I got an interesting peak into the Gen Y (if that's what they are calling it) styles: boys look terrible in skinny jeans. Eventually, the musicians came out: a short Australian girl, a big curly haired trumpet player, a drummer, bass player, and guitarist (I was behind a pole towards the back, so didn't get much of a look at them). Lenka stood on a box while singing Don't Let Me Fall.

Greg stood behind me, holding my waist, hand in my front pocket a little. It was nice, y'know, playing like the physical part of our relationship was new and tingley, that holding his hand was special, rather than typical and expected. When the concert was over, it was still pretty early, I suggested we go to Barnes and Noble and get hot chocolate, but the reality was, we needed to get home and check on the kids first. He took me back to my car, I quickly kissed him good-bye (though, if it really had been our first date, I would have bonked his nose - over the past 10 years he has become quite good at anticipating my unique grace). I got in my car and drove away. Curiously, I took the wrong exit to my own house, also. It was the fog; I'm totally a landmarks girl, take those away and watch me run around in circles.

Home, watch Wonderfalls and Office, drink hot cocoa, finally get baby to bed, then it's time for us to go to bed. Greg wants to read a little ... I quickly make-up some scenario in my mind to get me back to the first date game - maybe if I were a 30 year old single girl, my morals would be flexible enough to let me "sleep over" if the guy seems nice - y'know if he suggested I stay over and he specifically says "I don't expect to have sex, I don't want to ruin this new relationship," that kind of crap that always works in the movies, disarm the girl then it's HER decision to have sex ... so tricky.

I like to snuggle. He pulls me in close, but I have to lean forward at the waist, lest my head be bonked on the corner of his book. He goes for 2nd base, I pull away a little, change my mind, head for third (not even sure what the specific of the baseball analogy are, don't care). Home run, awkwardness, insight.

It's okay if you're a little less than moral, as long as it's with your husband, right? He was still him, I just let myself pretend to erase the majority our history. I can see why the whole "was that good for you" thing is an issue, though - without the security of a marriage, the foundation of love ... sex is kind of embarrassing, no? The nakedness, the loss of control, the messiness. If you know the other person was just as vulnerable and happy, you can deal with it, but if not ... just awkward. Then if something goes weird, painful ... you feel stupid and icky. It becomes a big deal. But when you're married, it's just one detail of life, if things get weird one night, you still have a lifetime of orgasms to experience. It's a fun thing to do, but also a unique way to open yourself up to another person and really be intimate.

Anyway, so that's my story of going all the way on a first date.

5 Post Rejects (An Inspired Meme Thingy)

Influenced by Navel Gazing, I decided to check out my drafty rejects - there were 56 to choose from.

So, here are a few Post Rejects:

1. This was drafted on March 27, 2008. Some press announcement thing was on - this was before McCain announced Palin, after Romney quit ... not paying full attention, I JUMPED to the conclusion that McCain had chosen Romney and before I had my facts straight, like [insert name of least favorite/reliable newspaper here], I threw this together. I realized I'd made the wrong assumption before I hit publish, thank Betsy Ross.

McCain/Romney 2008

Hmm .... so McCain tries to appease his conservative constituents, eh? I thought Romney said he wasn't running for VP? What about that? Huh? Changed your mind again, huh Mitt? Or are you planning on McCain expiring soon?

I'll have to see where they come down on Daylight Savings Time, but I have to say, I'm pretty opposed to their plans for Iraq. And they keep talking about our sad economy with one side of their face and telling me it'll be a long fight in Iraq with the other ... seems like we could save two birds with one decision.

I just got my ecclesiastical endorsement from the bishop last night, promising to abide by the BYU Honor Code. Hopefully Romney bashing is allowed

*****

2. July 17, 2007 - Calling Dr. Laura. I'm pretty sure I told my family about this, after the fact. It has a happy ending, but lo the drama, rather, my drama. The kids got married, I was pleasant the whole time and here we are 1 year, 5 months later, and I thought they wouldn't last ...

I'm Sure You'd Like To Know

Yesterday, my voice spewed out over national airwaves as I had the opportunity to ask Dr. Laura a question. I've been listening to her, irregularly, for about 7 years, and I appreciate her blunt, brutal, honesty. Having a little dilemma, I gave her a call.

Now my dilemma was of a third party nature: other people making decisions that have very little effect on me, but cause me GREAT stress when I stop to think about them and their potential consequences.

How specific can I be, blah, who cares? My sweet and amazing sister in law called me yesterday to say she was moving her Oct. 20 wedding up to this Saturday, do I think I can make it? Three expensive round trip plane tickets, one rental car reservation later: yes, I can. The thing was, when she called me, I practically had a panic attack. My sister has had ... a tough year, to say the least. I knew my husband for about four years before I married him, 9 months of that, we were long distance, so I am a huge advocate of a long, long dating period. Not that short ones can't work for marriage, like if the people come from very stable, very similar backgrounds and have had some time to mature as individuals.

So, my panic attack. I was concerned. She told me that she wants to marry him, that other people (in-laws, ecclesiastical leader) agree that it's a good thing, but I remained unconvinced. I told her I thought I might be irrational and needed to talk to my husband (her brother) and I'd call back. My husband didn't answer his phone though. SO I called 1-800-DrLaura. It was busy. I called one more time, telling myself, it it goes through it is meant to be. And it went right through. The screener asked my question, I speedily told her, and then clarified, and she put me on hold for Dr. Laura.

Dr. Laura finished her call and said something including my name. Oohhh, I was nervous. I didn't get out any of that cute "I'm am my kids' mom, 2 boys" stuff, or even, "thanks for taking my call." I gave her the basics of the background

that's the end of the post. Dr. Laura told me to be polite and not to discuss my concerns with my in-laws. It was sage advice. Thanks Dr. Laura.

*****

3. Back then, this was not enough to be a whole entire post. Nowadays, shorter is best. (unlike this post, you see).

#402

I meant to announce my 400th post, but I missed it two posts ago. Not paying attention. That's a lot, especially seeing as how many of my posts are long and rambling. As Canon would say, "Ta-dah!"

It's Friday. We passed the Buddhist temple and saw a priest with his orange robe. It was kind of a "OH oh, look kids, a Buddhist!" moment. But it is something special and cool, here in the heart of Mormania to see other religious cultures and have the opportunity to talk about it.

"Would he tell me a joke?" asks my 5 year old.

"Probably," I surmise, "Everyone likes jokes."

*****
4. My mom frustrates me. This was 9-15-08 - she'd been here, unemployed for about 7 months. We're about to hit the 1st anniversary, I think I'm starting to get used to it.

Swear? Don't Mind If I Do

Why is it that when I try to be reasonable or kind, when I make an effort, they stomp on my head? Why is that? Please ... if you have any mother loving insight, I could use it.

I moved my mom in last Feb., completely at my expense, when there was a potentially volatile boyfriend, alleged theft situation. It turned out to be just a regular bum and the complete inability to run a checkbook. We have "loaned" her over a thousand buck, tried to take care of her finances until we were completely dry and then a little. I have paid for her food and shelter and incidentals up until she got a job a few weeks ago. I gave up my exercise sanctuary/guest room, essentially my whole basement, given her preference to hang out in nothing but her underwear at night. In return, she has done dishes, picked up a bit, and occasionally watched my kids while I run errands or sleep in after working night shifts. Pretty cursed easy situation for her ... she spends the vast majority of her time play some on line Chinese dominoes matching game. Like freaking hours.

Today, in the car on the way to work, she tells my 6 yr old he has to save up for things he wants, just like grandma. Conversationally, I ask what she wants. A computer chair and a wireless card for her computer. Really? I ask - confused, cuz her butt spends most of it's waking hours in my husband's very cushy computer chair in the office with the fastest computer in the house and her computer (in her room) is still running off Windows 95. I try to explain this to her and she seems to understand.

"Anything else you're saving for?"

"Well, no offense," she says, "I mean, I'm grateful and all, but I want my own place."

It's not that I disagree - it would freaking rock if there was some duplex or asylum I owned and could put her in. The thing is ... she isn't very good on her own, she's paid one bill since she got her job and is having trouble balancing her checkbook, seriously, one check. She conveniently leaves her money at home so if I take my kid to lunch I have to pay for her lunch, too. It wouldn't bug me, but now she's making her own money and she should either offer to pay me back or order something small. Good gravy, how did I get to be the way I am when she is my mother? And she's not grateful. She expects me to take her to work and be there to pick her up. She tells me when she'll be off and let the statement hang, waiting for, "Oh, ok, I'll pick you up then."

One time, post-argument, she told me I was JUST like my grandma Anderson (her mother-in-law). We lived with Gramma A from my age 2 until her death when I was 12. I'm pretty sure my mom meant it as a back-handed compliment, but I took it as full on glorious praise.

Yeah, so if YOU are in a

that's the end, it was vent.

*****

5. And now for the draft you've all been waiting for - Brandy's Gay Marriage Flip Flop Explanation. This was written 12-11-08 and I wanted to get my husband's permission let Greg look over it first, but he never got around to it, and I just beat the poor topic into the ground so much that I let it slip my mind, hoping you'd just forget.

Marriage Defined

For your consideration, let me present my hard won clarity. You may not agree with me, and that is fine. I have gone the rounds for over a decade. I spent all of my life, until just 2 weeks ago, knowing I was right and those that thought differently were ignorant bigots. Recently, it became increasingly apparent that my political convictions were somehow misaligned with my religious convictions.

Muchness of Cognitive Dissonance.

I could see no good reason to prohibit homosexuals from being married. None. All the arguments from my religious friends, cohorts, mentors were wrong, wrong, wrong. Why pretend successful homosexual relationships don't exist? Why pretend your kids aren't being taught about it at school now, if not by the teachers, then by stupid kids calling each other gay. Why deny people, who clearly love each other, the ability to protect themselves and their loved ones the way the law protects me and my husband - we are a unit. Denying gay couples the right to be married was WRONG.

But then the Prophet of my beloved church, which has illuminated for me so much Truth, as far as my Faith in God, my belief in personal revelation, the purpose of life, and my relationship with my Savior, Jesus Christ - the prophet told the members in California to support Proposition 8.

Oh the rationalization that went on in Brandy's little brain: perhaps he's not speaking as a prophet, but expressing his opinion as a person; perhaps that this the right policy for now, but, like blacks and the priesthood, time would change things - when the people are ready to receive more prophecy, we'll get the revelation; perhaps he is a product of an old fashioned environment and he doesn't understand that he is being very UNChristian to a whole bunch of God's children. And how could so many of my fellow members just blindly give money and time to such a clearly BAD thing? Were they blind little sheep who couldn't be bothered to think for themselves, who just hear the prophet and jump to action (oh that I were wise enough to be so blind)?

But, I KNOW the prophet is a man called of God to lead and direct the church. His stewardship includes the whole wide world. This is where I may lose some of you, but you need to know that I truly believe God calls men to be prophets to teach Truth to those willing to listen. I'm not saying it is limited to LDS prophets or prophets of the Judeo-Christian flavor; the vast and overwhelming majority of human beings believe in a higher power, by one name or another, some source of Truth. How does one tell a true prophet from a wacko? I believe an individual has the right to receive confirmation from God. I believe it with all my heart.

Search, Ponder, and Pray as I might, I got no confirmation that the prophet was wrong, that new revelation was pending, or that I was bad for not falling in line.

So, thus all the blogging about Gay Marriage. Something just would not fit.

Most important bit of the Bible:

Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, ^atempting him, and saying,

Master, which is the great commandment in the law?

Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt ^alove the Lord thy God with all thy ^bheart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy ^cmind.

This is the first and great ^acommandment.

And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt ^alove thy neighbour as thyself.

On these two commandments hang all the ^alaw and the prophets.

We have with in us the capacity to love all people, regardless of gender, race, religion, anything. It's not so hard - look at any baby (mine is especially cute and sweet and easy to love, not to mention tricky to type with). For a gay person to say he/she CAN'T love a person of the opposite gender is as absurd as a heterosexual saying they could only love the opposite. We love lots of people, we don't ask to marry them all. Love is not the primary ingredient for marriage.

Can we agree on that? Will you concede that point? If not, speak now or forever hold your piece.

I know, English is not the most effective language with which to speak of love. Switch to Greek. Eros is what you feel early in the relationship, probably mostly what I felt for my husband for the first couple of years of marriage. I think we all probably have our own male/bi/female scale for Eros-attraction. Some people are grossed out by the thought of a same-gender relationship; if not bound by societal and religious conventions, I could probably swing either way. We only know how we feel and, clearly, not everyone feels drawn the same way, Eros-wise. Eros feelings are not the best to follow to the alter; Eros has a funny way of going away.

So, Brandy, expert on love, is it agape ("a total commitment or self-sacrificial love for the thing loved"), then, that we must feel for another to consider them for marriage? That isn't limited to opposite gender, y'know.

Right. Ok. Here is my contention.

1. There are two kinds of people in this big wide world, just two (not counting rare genetic mutations) - Male and Female. We build relationships with members of both kind. For most of us, it is easier to form friendships (we're talking philia here now) with one or the other, typically though, with members of our same gender. We tend to understand each other better. The similarities as preferred by and defined by gender make it easier to have love and compassion for members of the same gender. Nevertheless, we love both kinds.

2. Nature and culture have developed various ways of getting us to perpetuate the species. However, "perpetuate the species" isn't what you call it until around 30. Before then, it's pretty much just a desire to get your rocks off, no? There are various ways to accomplish this, one of which has the added bonus of making a baby. Only one, though. Male and female. Not to belittle the agape felt between any other coupling, nor to exaggerate the importance of reproductive capacity. and yet ...

3. There is something unique and special about the joining of opposites. (Here is where I invoke God.) Marriage is not just two people who Eros or agape each other, who are committed to always putting the other's happiness and well-being first. Marriage is intended to be an institution in which a man and a woman make the commitment primarily to GOD, secondarily to each other. The commitment isn't so much to or for each other - it's a covenant with God to take care of those spirits he may bless you with as children.

It's Abraham taking Isaac to be sacrificed, completely willing to do whatever God requires, until the last moment where God spares him. It's Jesus at Gethsemane saying Thy will be done and being crucified. It's me, promising God that I will take care of His son, my husband, so he can be a good dad to our kids and Greg promising visa versa. The creative unit is man, woman, and God.
The covenant, the sacrament, the sacrifice, is specifically designated this way by God and I will vote to protect it.

Though I don't think government should have a say in my religious conviction.

What government needs to do is give the people what we want, which is a relatively easy way to legally combine assets and medical authority and clarify rights of guardianship if minors are involved and stop trying to legislate morality, one way or another, they are not very good at it anyway (moral amendments, pshaw). Clergy needs to stop marrying every couple who thinks love is enough. Duties and obligations need to be met. There can not be a no-fault divorce. There needs to be civil unions and dissolution of civil unions based upon breach of prenuptial contract.

*****

If I die, someone better use the words "prolific blogger" in my freaking yougoogalee. And just for statistical purposes, I had 56 drafts (I'm not a deleter) so of my 887 post, if 56 were left in the draft box, it means any thing I start has a 94% chance of getting posted. That's a pretty terrible rate of self-censorship. I bet Greg would be happier with about 75% censored. Alright, now to spell check this big mother - what do you know, yougoogalee is misspelled...

Word count for this post: 2914.

I Miss Greg

I never really liked the Wiggles. It was a little too silly and singy for my taste (I KNOW!). But My husband and firstborn seemed to like it. Like, a lot.

Ah, distinctly I remember - back when my beloved was laid off from Microsoft. He hung out at home for weeks, collecting unemployment, while I got to experience the glorious world of temping. I came home one afternoon from temping at UVSC - surveying business bosses all over the state to see if they cared whether their employees got a degree from a prestigious university or a lowly state college, ironically, most bosses said it didn't matter - but I guess the school decided it did, as they are now UVU. I walked in the crappy 2 bedroom apartment to find my spouse on the couch, in his underwear, baby cuddled next to him in nothing but a very full diaper - singing Fruit Salad - yummy yummy.

Four grown men dressing up and being silly ... a narcoleptic, a food lover, a guitar player, and the driver of the big red car.

Greg was the smart one, the normal one, comparatively.

But, he got sick.

And they REPLACED him.

With SAM?!

I could barely watch the Wiggles before, but now .. not it just seems wrong. The Wiggles are not Dr. Who - you can't just REPLACE a Wiggle?! So it bothers me and it bothers me that it bothers me.

I just can't watch it anymore. Breaks my heart.

*****

Greg Page Website.

Differences of Opinion

I am happy with our president. No, I am very happy.

Yet, I subscribe to quite a diverse set of blogs. Some of us are so shiny and others feel so gloomy. Yesterday, Glenn (stupid) Beck started up - how unhappy he was. I turned the radio off, exercising my constitutional right to limit free speech. Can't you just enjoy the beauty and magnificence of the day without pooping on everything?

So divisive we are. The faces glowing in awe and the sour grapes. The winners always want the losers to cheer up and hop on the happy bus. Please, let's stop being winners and losers and unite to be better (as wosers?)

Here's a couple of the disappointed blogs I've read:

Connor's Conundrums
The Entreblog!

And some of the more positive ones:

Alice Walker
Be Gay About It
Gimme Insight!

And still, I worry - what if the saddies are right? How much actual power to change things does one man have? One man can have considerable influence over the actions of others (y'know, like Hitler) and all of America working together can do unbelievable things (like Hiroshima).

You know damn well that a lot of things need to change. You know that big business is more powerful than the government and is only held accountable by their stock holders, profits are the priority. You know that a huge section of Americans need help in one form or another and are not getting it - whether medical, dental, mental, or a combination, people need help - there's infinite amounts of money to bail out millionaires, but if you aren't lucky enough to have a full time job with good benefits, your quality of life is irrelevant. You know that your taxes are being poured out to clean up this mess of a war. And over the next few weeks and months, you'll be forking out even more. Wouldn't you like to see a change?

The truth is, there is plenty of resources for everyone, there is no reason for people to be sick or hungry or homeless. The problem is too many people using up too much. Americans are fat because we eat too much. We have more clothes and shoes and toys than we need. We have too many rooms in our houses. Our idols, sports heroes, singers, actors - they live these grand lives, spoiling themselves, and we covet that lifestyle (except the paparazzi part). When there is one homeless family, how is it right for someone to have several houses (Oprah? McCain?)? Oh, yes, this is America: individual, self, me, me, me. I hear about some rock star buying a new car for tens of thousands and I can't help but think he could put someone through college instead and change things forever. How can we be so selfish?

Yes, it's true, deep down I must be a socialist, maybe a communist, but mostly it comes from my Christianity. Love one another. Give all you have away and follow Christ. Love your enemy. You may have a different ideology, something more separation of church and state, but I think I'm a Christian first and American after. And that's okay.

But, generosity has to be voluntary. You can't LEGISLATE that we take care of our fellow men. The same way that giving people money for nothing hurts the soul of the receiver (modern welfare system), taking people's money against their will, even if you put it to good use, will just leave the giver bitter.

You can't legislate morality that way. But you can encourage it: you can ask people to give and do more, provide opportunities for service, make it easier and common, expected.

For those of you who are sad or worried or discouraged, please remember -you are your own ice cream factory. You have the power to be happy and make things better, but sitting around, whining and complaining and criticizing and analyzing weaknesses and prophesying disaster just makes it more likely that you'll be right. Look a-freaking-round you. Things are messed up.

And yet your life is perfect.

Change is the only constant.

So, if you could, maybe stop whimpering for your old cheese, and DO something positive. That would be helpful.

*Kind of a sucky post - basically, I just want people to be better Americans, write to your representatives regularly. Keep telling them what to do, sharing your ideas. Point out the fallacies as you see them, but follow right up with solutions. If you don't have any ideas, think about it, and maybe shut up until you do think of something helpful.

A Little Mom in Utah is Proud of Her President

I was inspired to sit down with my kids, today, to turn the TV from Disney Channel to PBS and watch the inauguration of our 44th president.

Politics has been something you have to shield your children from, lately. But today, it felt like we won a war, like we stepped out of a murky swamp and into clean fresh air, into an environment we can work with. I don't think it will be easy work, but I have such a swelling of admiration in my heart, I will make sacrifices, I have trust. I wanted to have my children participate in this amazing moment of time.

Tears pour down my cheeks, I am just so proud of this country, proud that we elected this man, that we rejected the old traditions which have become entitled, rusty. I have a mountain of hopes and expectations for the future; quite a few fears and concerns, as well. But I don't feel so helpless.

Mr. President - please know we support you. Talk to us openly. Listen to the People. Tell us the truth. Ask us to do hard things; right things. Trust us that we will do what is right as we trust you to do the same. I have never felt so much hope, never been inspired by a political leader - best of luck.

Happy Birthday Mr. Canonball E. Roth

You might remember this film:

But you'll be happy to know, my child holds no animosity towards the kitty.

The Moment You've All Been Waiting For - Who Wins The Art?

I know, I'm not the best with deadlines and I said stuff and made promises, and time went by and you've probably forgotten. BUT I DID NOT FORGET!

Crichton wanted to make a movie of how we picked the winner. Originally, he wanted all the contestants to come over and participate in an complex obstacle course/Japanese game show adventure. Fortunately for YOU, I talked him down to pulling names out of a hat.

As soon as the YouTube thing does it's magic, you will watch not only the contest results, but Crichton's first motion picture extravaganza. Today is Martin Luther King Jr day AND Canon's Birthday. So there is no school and I am the only one still in my PJ's.

**Update:

Here it is:



Thanks to all of you for your kind words of inspiration (and being a fan/follower/commenter of my blog). Lucky winner - email me your mailing address and I'll pop that sucker in the mail, post haste.

Let's Mommy Blog This Baby Up

For the people who love my kids:

She's so cute and sweet I can hardly stand it!

For Christmas my darling in-laws got me a set of 10 simple black frames - oh the possibilities. Thanks mumsie and dudsie! Greg and I decided to get some of our favorite pictures, make them all black and white artsy. An interesting side note, except for Crichton's school photos, none of my children have had professional pictures taken. I wanted to make an asymmetrical display so I had to put them up without consulting my perfectionist husband dear. Here's how it turned out:



Also thought you might like to see how your youngest grandchildren are turning out:



Sagan is practically crawling/scooting now, sits up a bit, started solids (she loves squash and animal crackers). She loves to scavenge the floor for interesting things to taste. We have to keep all the deadly Lego's and crumbs out of her sight. Oh and she learned out to raspberry - very cute, she loves playing with her tongue.

Canon is still working on potty training ... maybe we're getting closer. His favorite word is "hate;" if things don't go his way, he hates everything and everyone. But most of the time he's a happy jokester.

Crichton is doing brilliantly in school and just earned his purple belt in Karate (that's the forth belt). He's always at school, so I will have to take some pictures this weekend so you can see how big he's getting.

If you'd like copies of any of the pictures seen here, let me know which and I can have them printed up at your local neighborhood Walgreen's, so helpful and glorious is their digital printing stuff. I got all the pictures in the wall montage printed up for less than $10.

That's it, life is good, must make dinner.

A New Plan

My life would be best if I:

1. Straighten the house before going to bed.
   
2. Lay out everyone's clothes for the next day.
   
3. Go to bed by 10:00 pm.
4. Get up at 6:00 am.
5. Stretch, read scriptures/pray, meditate.
   
6. Work on my cyber-silliness before the kids get up.
7. Take a shower before the kids wake up.
8. Make everyone breakfast with fruits and whole grain products.
9. Make lunch and dinner plans and stick to them.
10. Play school until lunch.
11. Run errands after lunch.
12. Fold and put away laundry after running errands, possible while watching Netflix documentaries.
13. Sit down for dinner.
14. Spend some time playing and singing as a family before bed.
15. Brush teeth, FLOSS, wash faces, pj's, stories, prayers - tucks the kids into bed by 8:00 pm

Tips for getting through the hard stuff:

1. Control temper.
   
2. Ask nicely. If ignored, quickly take them down and tickle until they are willing to comply.
3. Let them work it out unless they ask you to intervene.
4. Don't worry.
5. Be polite.
6. Set a good example.
7. Take a walk.
8. Be Happy.
   

Today's To Do List:

1. Clean out fridge and freezer, move stuff from deep freeze to fridge freezer.
2. Organize pantry.
3. Grocery Shopping.
4. Straighten
   
5. Vacuum.
6. Sweep.

Today is a beautiful perfect day.

This is my life.

Concrned About All This Change

Way back in December of 1998, I introduced my best cousin to Greg's best friend. They started dating, it got serious, and they were thinking of marriage. Then, I kind of freaked out. It was cute when it was all "what if," but when it came time to make REAL SERIOUS LIFE CHANGING changes, it freaked me out. "Just wait," was my advice. Wait wait wait. Don't act. Wait and see. Don't decide, be cautious, don't make a decision until you absolutely have to, and then wait a little longer.

It's stupid cowardly advice. I really just like considering and not really deciding. I hate decisions.

Now, as we are about to get a new president (one I decided would be best), it's time for him to make some important decisions. They are even asking the PEOPLE for ideas and we get to vote (not that I'm entirely confident that particular vote means much). Though, by Jango, if you didn't vote for this president, you better get your voice in on the issues now!

The thing is, I keep hearing plans to stimulate the economy, tax cuts, bailouts ... it all makes me sick to my stomach - EXACTLY like when I'm trying to pay the bills and there's just not enough and I don't know how to make it work. How is this all supposed to work? It seems like "they" are throwing BILLIONS of dollars away to big fat car companies and financial institutions and I don't quite get how it's going to work.

It's like "they" think this magic money, which comes from where? My taxes? China? If we all just spend enough money everything will recover. "Just go shopping," is the financial cure?
I don't think they get that when you are serious about getting out of debt, it means no vacations, no eating out, no going to the movies, no buying books, no spur of the moment purchases ... it means hard work, rice and beans until the debt is paid and it is not fun or easy for a while, but you have to do it. It shouldn't matter if it's my family or the nation, the debt has to be taken seriously and paid or you're living in denial.

So here I am, on the cusp of change and I panic - things can't stay the same, but I am suddenly very afraid of change ...

They got married.

Don't Forget To Leave A Comment To Be Entered in the Contest

Crichton wanted the contestants to come over and have a foot race to see who would be the winner ... I told him he could pick randomly.

Validate a child's artistic ambitions: Leave a comment on this post.

Some Stuff That Sucks Around Here

Maybe I should try and focus on my blessings for a change, but, as Greg will tell you, I'm a big, fat, whiny, useless, complainer-head (he wouldn't use those words, probably, but if you heard his tone and saw the look, you would see than my interpretation is accurate).

Why even this morning, as he was digging through the mountain of laundry I had folded the night before, but not put away, which Canon had used as a trampoline when he woke up this morning ... Greg wanted TWO tube socks of his own. The nerve of that guy. Not ankle socks (need ankle protection with the boots), not ONE tube sock (he's too good to hop?!), which he was able to locate himself. Not two of CRICHTON's tube socks. Look, there were 20 Greg sized tube socks in the dryer, but I, ME, MYSELF, had to go down to the laundry room (no longer a deadly chlorine gas chamber) and procure them for his ungrateful bum. UG!

AND we get new "free" carpet for the bedroom, thanks to the toilet cracking and the kind home owner's insurance adjuster (here's a free ad for State Farm), but Greg didn't want the burden of choosing. See, he went to the carpet store as I sat home with sleeping baby and crazy 2 yr old. So he brought all these samples home for ME to pick (because I just freaking LOVE making decisions) and now NOW I have to drive them back and tell them which I want (and don't think, after they put it down, Greg won't be all, "Why did you pick that one?" (which should have been my line when HE picked!) Let me tell you, I don't want new carpet in my BEDROOM, I want it in the front and TV rooms, for crying out loud. So, I have to figure out how to get a ton of carpet samples and my two little kids to the next town over and into the store (cuz it's illegal to leave little kids in the car) ... and I have to PICK!

Then, there's the whole ... okay, so we have what they call a "split level home." You walk in to the front room which is attached to the kitchen/dining room. There a dozen steps up from the front room to the main bedrooms, several steps down from the dining room to a sunken living room, then a dozen more steps down to a basement. There are 2 bathrooms are up by the bedrooms and one down in the basement. Having no bathrooms on the main living levels makes it hard to potty train, for one thing. Also, as a mom, I am able "hold it" for a long time, but when it's time to go, I gotta go. This morning, Greg called down that he was going to get in the shower (we have a new policy, since there's only one functioning bathroom upstairs now, you have to leave the door unlocked when you shower in case someone has to go ... cuz if they barely make it up, but find the door locked, they may not make it down two and a half flights of stairs.

And what do you know, I HAD TO GO, ran upstairs, how you say, "prairie dogging?" And BOOM, what do you know, a locked door and a husband NOT IN THE SHOWER.

I don't know how close you are to your significant other, Greg and I are not close enough that I can just hop on the toilet in front of him and see a man about a wallaby. Maybe he can, but I'm not there, yet. Maybe I have trust issues, but I just feel a little self conscious about it.

Anyway, so that was less than pleasant.

Solutions:

1. Put laundry away after you fold it.

2. Lay out everyone's clothes the night before - rather, remind them to do so, thus transferring responsibility for matching tube socks.

3. Find a sitter for an hour so I can go alone to the carpet store.

4. Pick the carpet I think Greg said he liked, they're all lightish brown to me.

5. Help Greg finish repairing the master bathroom, instead of watching Netflixed Documentaries on XBOX Live (last night was "Who the #$&% Is Jackson Pollock?" and "Super High Me" - while folding laundry)

6. Get over poop-shyness, he's seen my guts cut open three times, he knows I have intestines like a tuba ... if you gotta go, you gotta go ...

If you just complain to complain, well that is a silly selfish waste of time, but if you come up with solutions to the things that make you crazy, complain away!

Wonderful Art Contest

On Saturday, I watched the documentary My Kid Could Paint That, about 4 year old artist, Marla Olmstead (she'll be 9 this year). Here's her website. I really like her work, sincerely. Her pieces sell for thousands, even tens of thousands of dollars.

Inspired by her art, I set my boys down with paint and canvas in the kitchen to see what they would produce.

Meanwhile, I learned a few things.

1. Each kid needs their own canvas.

2. 3 year old co-artists can be very frustrating to 6 yr old co-artists, as they try to undo and fix eachother's work.

3. As a parent observing, it is very hard not to give direction, to teach them how to do it right.

4. Mostly kids wanna mush all the slimy paint around then run into the living room and touch stuff.

5. While you are yelling at one kid to get back on the drop cloth, the other kid will take over the picture.

6. It is almost impossible not to get emotional about art.

So here's what they finally came up with. Crichton signed it while I had Canon in the tub and though both contributed a lot of paint to the project, both agree it is Crichton's picture.




They call it "Grumpy Rainbow" - something to do with how rainbows make you happy when they are shaped like frowns, so this is a dark rainbow, shaped like a smile, so it makes you grumpy.

Anyway, so my goal was 20 readers/subscribers/fans. When I add all the followers from blogger to all the fans on facebook and subtract the duplicates, I have 23 - which makes my wet toes tingle.

If you are interested in winning this piece of child's abstract art, sign on as a follower (blogger) or a fan (facebook) and leave a comment on this post.

This is my first "contest," If no one leaves comments, I will not be sad, I will keep this masterpiece on my wall with the dozens of other fine works of art I have collected. BUT, Crichton could be famous someday, so this might be a good investment.

Holy Freaking Sunday - how I was nearly killed by deadly chlorine gas

In Exodus 20, we read:

8 Remember the ^asabbath day, to keep it ^bholy.

9 ^aSix days shalt thou ^blabour, and do all thy work:

10 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy ^astranger that is within thy gates:

11 For in ^asix days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord ^bblessed the sabbath day, and ^challowed it.

Now I don't believe that God punishes you for the bad things you knowingly choose to do, rather, I think he is forced by your choice to withhold blessings.

But when your trapped in a laundry room and your lungs are filling up with deadly chlorine gas, "withholding blessings" feels a lot like punishment.

We stayed up too late last night (add "unpaid novel editor" to my resume) and Greg slept through his pre-church morning meeting. Also, it's Stake conference this weekend (when several neighboring wards join together a.k.a. Optional Sunday). Last Stake conference, I spent the whole time running around after Canon, as there are no children's classes for Stake Conference. Now, we have Sagan, too ... we "accidentally" over-slept. I felt a little guilty, at 10:00 am, eating pancakes as my congregation was having their opening prayer.

Then we decided to put the extra time to good use by getting a few things done.

Like blogging.

Greg said, "Before you get on the computer, you need to do two things."

"Anything, love," I said, batting my eyelashes.

"The kitty litter and the dishes."

"Just ... a ... second," as I waited for the face book page to load, hoping for just one more fan of the blog.

He gently closed my laptop for me.

"Buh-bohmp."

Well, off to the laundry room with me. To clean the litter box. Hazaah

OH - I should tell you I have found the solution to the ickyness of kitty litter:

1. Have a baby; wait 6 years.

2. Get the kid a cat.

3. Get a Litter Maid Self Cleaning Litter Box (the Litter Maid requires these plastic liner inserts - you only need one, line it with a plastic grocery bag).

4. Tell the 6 yr old they can not [play video games, burn DVD's, design emoticons, etc.] until he changes the kitty litter. All they have to do is take out the old bag, and line the receptacle with a new one, every day.

So easy, even a child could do it. So long as you make the child do it every day.

Unfortunately, it has been about 2 weeks since anyone changed the kitty litter. Thus it was a nasty, nasty mess. Thinking I would really give this thing a good cleaning, but forgetting the bottom was detachable, I scrapped out a lot (but not all) the junky gunky masses of urine clumped litter and poo, then poured in some straight up, undiluted, all mighty germ killing bleach. It was handy. Unlike these two, mostly abandoned, but soon-to-be-reactivated neuron connections in my brain:

1. Ammonia is one of the main ingredients in urine.

2. Ammonia + chlorine bleach = deadly chlorine gas.

Good gravy on a biscuit, but I hated Ms. Potthast's 11th grade Honors Chemistry class - she was a brilliant teacher; it was the subject. Filling electron shells, moles, balancing equations, flesh-eating, eye-burning acids ... I loved my goggles, but that was IT! Pretty dang sure that it was in her Chemistry class that I learned, memorized, tested on, and forgot those facts.

So, as the litter box began to sizzle and I began to cough a little, I thought, "Oh, my, perhaps pouring straight up, undiluted, all mighty germ killing bleach into the not too clean kitty litter box was a bad idea. Gee, I need to get rid of this stuff. Oh look, there is a toilet. Wow, this is a big awkward mess, hmmm, I wonder how best to ... ow, my eyes, my eyes are burning out, gasp, choke .... need ... air ..."

This is when I rushed to the toilet and kind of just dump the whole unit towards the toilet, but mostly seemed to hit toilet seat and floor. Dropping the unit, I ran to the only basement window, struggled to pry the lovely thing open and *gasp* fresh air.

Then, I proceeded to YELL at the children to stay upstairs, as they had become suddenly interested in what their silly mom was up to. Eyes watering, brain cells melting away, I alternated between mopping up the gritty, deadly mess in the small windowless bathroom and gasping for air at the open window in the next room.

It gets better. Is that possible, you ask? Oh yes.

Greg was upstairs, demo-ing the master bath in preparation to repair the mysterious damage of 3 weeks past.

"TURN OFF THE WATER, MOM! DAD SAYS, 'TURN OFF THE WATER, NOW!'"

In my deadly chlorine gas induced stupor, stumbled over to the valve (do you know where you water turn off valve is?), I yanked it up. Wait, is that the hot one or the cold one? Is there a difference? What are those yellow spots? I ran up the three levels of stairs and told Greg I didn't know HOW to turn off the water, but evidently I had already done it.

He had nicked the copper water pipe with a jigsaw as he was removing the sink cabinet.

As I went back down to finish cleaning up the deadly chlorine gas/kitty litter mess, he went to Home Depot to buy whatever you have to buy when you accidentally cut little holes in water pipes. However, now I had no water to wash things (like my hands, for example) ... except for toilet water, which, when compared with bits of well-used kitty litter, suddenly seems almost sanitary.

Once I got the litter box clean, I poured rubbing alcohol over my hands.

An hour later I got to wash my hands with real soap and water.

Perhaps, on Sunday, rather than sleeping in and getting a few jobs done, might I recommend getting up and going to church? It's just a suggestion. I'm not saying you WILL be plagued with floods and deadly chlorine gas if you don't, I'm just saying ... as for me and my house ... next week we will be getting our butts out of bed.