The Royal Wedding

I am almost embarrassed to admit this but I must. I am obsessed with Will and Kate and the Royal Wedding. I love every second of it. I am watching 24 hours of wedding coverage and I have seen all of the shows detailing their courtship and engagement.

I have been a little startled by my own interest in an event like this because I usually recoil at celebrity gossip and our cultural obsession with wealth and fame. But finally I had to just throw in the towel and admit that I love this couple and I would buy the monogramed dinnerware set. I'm tossing the guilt from my guilty pleasure and will now openly enjoy every one of the wedding shows on my DVR.

The reason I love it so much is that I believe in marriage. This kind of mainstream promotion of holy matrimony is hard to come by these days. I loved the article in last month's Ensign by sister Beck about the family and how we will be called upon to defend marriage and family. The legal definition of marriage is under attack not just in our nation but across the globe and it is our generation's responsibility to solidify the role of man and wife. The family is the basis for civilized life and I love to see a nice couple making a vow to God to be faithful to one another and to stay together no matter what. I love the dress and the bridesmaid and Prince William's uniform. I have always been a history buff and I adore the military uniforms and the medals and the horsemen and the ceremony of it all. I loved speculating about which designer Kate would choose and which uniform the Prince would wear. I love that he wore the Irish Guard red coat. As Americans that red coat uniform is such a symbol of the British. "The Red Coats are coming!" Now everyone knows I love the Mother Land.

An Easter That Will Come Up In Therapy Years From Now

I have been collecting random stuff for my kids' Easter baskets for months but I hadn't gone and actually picked up baskets and finishing touches. I was going to wait until the kids were in bed and go to the store. Of course, by the time bedtime rolled around I would have rather shoved icepicks under my fingernails than go to the store. I checked next door with the Gartners and they had extra Easter baskets I could borrow and between the stuff I already had and Kristen's stuff I could escape a late night trip to Wal-Mart. Plus if those kids get totally different stuff than my kids we always deal with questions about who the Easter Bunny likes more and why he clearly favored one family over the other. I arranged for Kristen to prepare my baskets along with her own and left the doors unlocked so that she could come put them in the house in the night. I thought it was all taken care of and was impressed with myself for orchestrating such a hassle free plan.

Over the course of the night Jack ended up in my bed with me. I think it was because he was too excited for the Easter Bunny to come. At the crack of dawn I heard him stir and say "Its Easter! I'm going to go see if the Easter Bunny came!" He ran out of the room. He was gone for about two minutes and then I heard him crawl back into bed. I figured that he went down and saw his loot and then decided to sleep in a little longer. I was mostly unconscious anyway so I didn't think about it much more. Until I realized that he was quietly sobbing real tears. "What in the world is wrong?" At first I thought maybe he was disappointed with the basket which was going to annoy me and I was gearing up for a big lecture on gratitude and entitlement.

"The Easter Bunny didn't come. Maybe I was bad. Abe was bad too. There's nothing down there for us." There was real grief and regret going on.

"WHAT?! The freaking Easter Bunny didn't come? Hang on a second. I am going to figure this out. I am sure the Easter Bunny has a great reason for not coming and I'm sure that it has nothing to do with weather you were good or bad."

My plan had a major flaw. I didn't discuss with Kristen what our Easter morning tradition was like. Every year we leave the baskets right at the base of the stairs where they make a big visual impact when the kids come down on Easter Morning. It never occurred to me that Kristen would HIDE the baskets.

There was a few minutes of chaos as we sorted it all out and found the missing baskets and then Jack came down and hunted for them desperately. Finally he claimed his stuff and dried his tears.

This is probably the last Easter we have with this kid believing in Peter Cottontail hopping down the Bunny Trail and I am hoping that he forgets it. In the weeks leading up to Easter we love to threaten that the Easter Bunny won't come if he behaves poorly and the poor kid's nightmare came true… for about ten minutes. We might as well have just filled the baskets with lumps of coal.

The Law of Attraction Proven

We have all heard of the Law of Attraction. It has become such a commonly experienced phenomenon that it has permeated all of pop culture. The movie "The Secret" turned the word secret from a noun into a verb overnight. At first we were "using the secret" to get things we wanted and now we just say we are "secreting it". Actually, thats one of the things I love about the English language. we can turn anything into an action word and everyone gets it.

The Law of Attraction is basically the concept that we attract into our life that which we think about. Our thoughts have power to draw things and circumstances and experiences into our path. I think this is a concept that is true and that we all kind of intuitively know from the get go. We can attract good things or bad things. The video and book that they produced a few years ago was super cheesy but did a great job of bringing this truth into the mainstream.

I have been working of secreting good health and wellness into my life. I believe that the Law of Attraction mingled with faith in Christ is the most powerful way to bring about our righteous desires. If we meditate or think about how we want our life to be we will eventually bring it about but If we pray to God in the name of Jesus Christ for the good thing we seek and seek to have the will of a loving God in your life, we can bring about any miracle. This is how faith works.

Unfortunately, when we obsess about negative things, we invite that too. It is tempting to wallow in disappointment and then unintentionally bring about more disappointment. For instance, I can get to feeling pretty sorry for myself when I want another baby and my body doesn't cooperate. Instead of thinking about how much it sucks, I am better off thinking about how grateful I am for the children I have and focus on the health that I do have and the things that my body is doing right. I saw a naturopath once who looked at the sores on my hands and said "This is a fabulous sign of health! Your body is putting up a huge fight against something. an unhealthy body could never produce such huge sores. This is a sign of health." Since that day I have seen my autoimmune disorder differently. I cheer my body on in a valiant fight. This, of course, has healed me more than anything.

John has a case of secreting that we could document statistically and prove that worrying about something makes it more likely to happen. Scissors on the couch. Before I met John, I had lived my life totally free of sharp objects and upholstered furniture combined. Now it happens almost daily. When John was a kid, they were on vacation and he jumped onto a couch in the hotel room. There was a pair of scissors hidden between the cushions and when he landed they fully lodged into his butt all the way to the handles. The pierced the flesh and muscle just to the side of his anus and missed tearing his rectum out by millimeters. He was rush the the ER where they removed the scissors and stitched him up and informed him that he came very close to a lifetime of crapping into a bag. This is the day that he developed a serious and well justified phobia of scissors on couches. The phobia extends to sharp pencils on chairs, forks on beds, or letter openers on recliners. You may ask yourself how likely he is to encounter such an obscure threat to personal safety. The answer is ALL THE TIME. It Is like our household seating is magnetically attracted to sharp objects. The kids are possessed with demons that compel them to leave the scissors on the couch. Unless John is not around. Then it never happens. The poor guy vigilantly checks every time he sits down and he shakes out blankets and it feels like more often than not, something deadly is discovered. If we kept track of the numbers, we could prove scientifically that the law of attraction is real. We get what we expect to get.

Four and a half years ago I was working full time, had one child and had been trying to get pregnant for a year. I was six months into fertility treatment and we were deeply in debt even though we had two decent incomes. I wanted lots of things to change in my life but I felt like we were running on a treadmill. I prayed often for what I wanted and tried to visualize it. I have always found writing to be cathartic so one day I decided to write my prayer out in a letter to God. I made a list of what I wanted. I was almost embarrassed when I finished because it seemed so outlandish to ask for all of it. I wanted in one year's time to have another child. Not to just be pregnant, but to have a baby already born and in my arms. I wanted to be able to stay home full time with my kids and not have to work for income at all. I wanted to be out of debt and I wanted to have money in the bank. Amen. It seemed like I was asking for contradictory things. Its not like my husband has a job where he could make more money. He is a cop. His income is totally fixed from here until retirement with very little variation. I decided to stop thinking about how it would happen and just ask nicely that it would. I put the letter away and forgot about it.

A year later I was writing in my journal and leafed through the past year of entries. I came across my letter to God. When I read it I felt light headed. I wouldn't have believed my own story if I didn't have the evidence written in pen by my own hand. As I sat reading it, I was nursing my brand new baby, I was a full time stay at home mom. We had just paid off all of our debt and we had money in the bank. Every single thing I had asked for came true. Every single thing without exception.

Shortly after I had written my list, John was T-boned while he was in his squad car going code 3 to a call. He was pinned in the car and his pelvis was broken in two places. He had been hit by an old lady in a minivan who was well insured. He was totally unhurt besides the broken pelvis and although it was extremely painful, he healed up with no long term damage. There were a few terrifying days in the beginning but in the end we got a very good settlement from the driver's insurance and John was back on duty in a few months. Also It turns out that a broken pelvis isn't nearly as disruptive to one's reproductive life as you might assume. I was knocked up before he was even cleared for patrol.

Its an unbelievable story, right? It sounds like an exaggeration or even a fabrication. I swear on my life it is one hundred percent true. Of course, after that when I knew the power of making lists of demands on God, my lists got much longer and more specific. For a small fee I will be happy to include any of my reader's personal requests on my next list. You might have to suffer a painful injury, but all your dreams can come true. My next list will be sure to include a specific request for all pairs of scissors to be put away safely after use.

Sheriff's Eyebrows: an insight into Abe's mind

Abe's foray into the world of makeup as encouraged by Ella's never ending industrial strength cosmetics set has been photographically documented and those photos will most likely be shown at his wedding at some future date. We are hoping that will be to a woman in the temple after a mission and that he will be make-up free for the occasion. Yesterday he walked in to the house wearing huge brick red eyebrows. Really heavy and dark and high up on his forehead. I left my camera at my uncle's house this week otherwise I would have captured the moment. John is less amused by his son wearing makeup than I am and he scolded him a little bit when he saw him."Abraham, makeup is for girls. You are not a girl. You are a boy."

The effect of the makeup job was anything but feminine so I suspected that maybe he was going for a Ronald McDonald look rather than a transvestite look. He confirmed my suspicion with his offended response to John "This is not girl make-up! This is Sheriff's Eyebrows. I'm a man Sheriff with big high Sheriff Eyebrows!"

So that explains it. Everyone knows Sheriffs have giant exaggerated eyebrows, right? I don't know where he comes up with this stuff. He was just so sure of his eyebrow concept.

Yesterday to church I dressed him in a cute little suit with a vest and everything. While I was tucking in his little dress shirt and installing his tiny clip-on tie, he looked at himself in the mirror and said "Wow. I am so HANDSOME!" He was right. He was handsome. The only thing that could improve his look was a nice set of Sheriff's eyebrows.

Speaking of Abe's mind, He brought me the paper yesterday from the driveway. He had opened it and zoned in in the weekly CVS ad that is chock full of Easter Eggs and Candy and Peeps and plastic grass. There were tons of plush toys including a rabbit, a chicken wearing a rabbit disguise and a duck wearing a bathrobe and Bunny Slippers. One side of the page was colorful and alluring and the other side advertised regular pharmacy fare. Toothpaste, Pantyhose, Lotions and Perfumes and Huggies Diapers. Abe was all lathered up over the Easter stuff and pointing out what he wanted to buy. I agreed that all of that stuff was awesome and I would like to have it too. But ever the downer, I had to take the chance for a guilt trip. "I wish we had some money to spend on this stuff! I would pick this robed bunny and jelly beans! But unfortunately we don't have any money for this stuff because we have to spend our money on this." Of course, pointing to the Jumbo pack of Diapers on the opposite page.

"Nah, we don't need to buy those. Lets get this stuff!"

"Well, that would only work out if you could go poo poo on the potty every time and wear big boy underwear everywhere we go. Then we could spend all of our diaper money on whatever we want!"

Never one to overcommit himself, he thought about it really hard and sighed. "I'm just not ready yet." with the sincerest little sad face you ever saw. Lets just say we will find some room in the budget for both pages. The kid is good.

Ruining Easter

My calling in the ward is to teach primary. I have eight little eight year old girls. I don't know why they split the boys and girls up, but I got the girls class, and while there are times I wish that Sunday was a chance to catch up with the grown ups, I have definitely come to love these little girls. They are so pure and sweet and well behaved. Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice. I tend to overestimate their maturity for some reason. I always want to answer every random question because I think they are at a really critical age where they need to know that there are answers to all of their questions. I know that sometimes I go a little bit over their heads and then I will be brought back down to earth when they make totally unrelated statements. For example, I will be bearing down in passionate testimony about some point of doctrine and one of them will raise their hand and say "My dog threw up on the couch this morning". And then all eight arms fly up and they all want a turn to tell a story either about their dog or a time they witnessed vomiting. Still, I press on. They are baptized and accountable and there are moments when the spirit is so strong and I know they get it.

Yesterday the lesson was of course the lesson leading up to Easter so we learned about the miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead. They were totally enraptured as I told the story of Lazarus falling ill and Mary and Martha just knew that Jesus could heal him because they had seen him heal people. They had seen him turn water into wine. They knew he could walk on water. But when Jesus was sent for he didn't come right away. He took his sweet time and Lazarus died. By the time Jesus got there he wasn't just dead he was stinking and rotting and entombed. Everyone was ticked. If Jesus would have hurried he could have saved him.

You could have heard a pin drop. These girls had never heard this story and and they were gripped. I asked "What were these people missing?"

"He could bring him back to life." There is one girl in the class that is about twice as smart as all of the others put together. She runs circles around everyone else and she makes it a sport. She is a handful but I can always count on her to get the real message.

I testified that Jesus has power over death and he demonstrated this power by bringing Lazarus back. But he wasn't done showing his power over death. He was preparing to perform another miracle that was infinitely more important that would change the mortality of every single person who had ever lived or ever would live. He was preparing to bring himself back from death. Not just alive but perfect and immortal, paving the way for all of us to live forever. This is why we celebrate Easter. This is the greatest thing that has ever happened in the history of the universe. This is the greatest miracle that has ever been conceived.

The spirit was so strong. It was so satisfying to feel the message hit home to these little eight year old hearts. This moment was worth every dog vomit story I had ever heard from them. Then I said "How do you feel RIGHT NOW? Excited, worried? scared? pleasure? or peace?" They all agreed they felt so peaceful it was warm in their chests. One of them told me that it made her want to cry but not a sad cry, just a happy cry."

"Girls, for the rest of your lives I want you to remember this moment. Whenever you want to know if anything is true I wasn't you to think back to when you were eight and learned about Lazarus and the Resurrection and remember how you felt. If it is not just like this, it is not true. Satan can make any feeling but he cant make this. This feeling is peace and it is telling us that Jesus us real." I was barely able to speak by the end because I was so choked up with emotion. I felt the spirit of the lesson so strongly and I felt these girls feeling it too. It was a powerful moment.

Then Miss Smarty Pants realizes that she has a golden opportunity to demonstrate her superior knowledge over the rest of the class and to nail the teacher to the wall. She couldn't resist. "So where does the Easter Bunny fit in to all of this?" I have no doubt that she knew full well what the Easter Bunny has to do with the real Easter and she had me pinned. She was very curious to see if I would come clean in front of everyone.

I explained that people have always enjoyed celebrating springtime and that as is often the case in human history people ended up mixing the celebration of spring and Easter. We are lucky enough to know the real meaning of Easter.

So She looks me in the eye with a smirk on her face and said "So are you saying that the Easter Bunny is NOT REAL?" She had gone all Katie Couric on me and she was not going to back off until she got a full confession.

At that moment and under those circumstances, it would have been morally wrong to dodge the question or to leave any doubt on the table about the existence of the Easter Bunny. "The Easter Bunny is not real. Jesus is real. I know it because I have prayed about it and I have felt the Holy Ghost confirm to my heart that Jesus is real."

I was a little worried that some of them would e crushed. I could tell from the looks on their faces that this Easter Bunny thing was totally new information. I was imagining irate parents calling and complaining. I felt just a little bit like the Grinch but I knew that ultimately I was doing them a favor by being truthful. How can we expect these kids to have authentic faith in Christ and also promote mythical Easter Eggs and Rabbits who can get into your house and leave candy? These kids end up with more tangible proof of Santa and the Tooth Fairy than they do of the Savior. I had to set the record straight. The thing is, not only did I have the comfort of knowing I was magnifying my calling, but I sensed a great feeling of relief from the girls. It all made much more sense and the Spirit was making it all make sense.

Then I very hypocritically passed out Peeps and Cadbury Eggs and we all basked in Truth and Sugar. A perfect Easter high.

Marathon Morning

Why do I feel compelled to archive the hell of sabbath morning to blogworld every single week? I guess its therapy. I feel like I just got done with a three hour marathon. Every week I get a little better. We are a little more well groomed and we get there a little earlier and we are to the point now that we hear the opening prayer and get all of the sacrament and we appear to be just like any normal LDS family without a dad which is how I was raised and which I subconsciously recreated in my own family. Not that John wouldn't be there with us if he could. He loves it when we get to go together as a family but he will work this shift that includes Sundays for probably years. I would probably be wise to stop feeling sorry for myself and suck it up. This morning we had to choose between consuming food or getting there on time and I would starve a hundred babies rather than be late to sacrament again. I stuffed my bag full of cheese sticks and granola bars and candy and capri suns and we were seated before the opening prayer was said. At this rate of improvement we will be translated before a more humane start time is restored. As trials of faith go I am a pretty major wuss because I seem to have a massive existential crisis every single sunday. The important thing is not how much I don't want to go, the important thing is that I do in fact go every week and I have faith that it will be a blessing to me and that it will eventually get easier. Sometimes obedience is all I have to offer. Today was a minefield of challenges. The kids slept in their church clothes which woud have put us ahead except that Jack decided to pick up a game of old school Mario while he waited for everyone else. By the time we needed to depart he was in full blown psychotic episode mode kicking and screaming and wailing over some stupid level that he just couldn't beat. Yes, this game just earned a one way ticket out of our house forever. I know it was the low blood sugar and the lack of sleep and the stress of the rush but the kid needed a straight jacket over a pesky flying fish that would come out of nowhere and destroy him every single time it was irritating but his reaction was so ridiculously out of proportion. Finally I got everyone hauled into the car and headed to the church, I passed out all of the snacks and in typical martyr mom style I got nothing which was a bad idea because I could feel my blood sugar dipping and it felt stuffy and I was woozy. I had to keep getting up and leaving the meeting just to keep from passing out and ended up in the restroom a lot. I felt like I had already been through three hours by the time sacrament was over but I had to press on and teach my primary girls. The lesson went well and I felt the spirit but I couldn't shake the feeling like I was going to pass out or something. We went to sharing time and I pretty much ditched so I could walk around and get fresh air but they had just fertilized all of the outdoor lawns so it smelled so strong of rotting manner or something equally vomit inducing. There was no where to escape. Then everyone I passed in the halls made comments like "wow your skin is so fair!" or "I never knew how porcelain your complexion is." which is polite for "dang girl, you look like a ghost." I had driven Rob's car to church and by the time it was all over with I just wanted to get home in record time. It was hot my then and I didn't know that Rob's car doesn't have air conditioning. I honestly don't know how I pulled it together to drive home without puking all over the front of myself. I think the fact that I had nothing to puke was a blessing in disguise. When I got home I just wanted to veg out on the couch and get a hold of myself. Of course the kids were begging for an elaborately cooked dinner and would not stop with the begging. Then Kristen came over and wanted to talk about her plans for next year which would require her going to school three days a week and would require me to raise her kids those three days on a volunteer basis. It was more than I could take in. I was just not in a mental place to make commitments or take on more responsibility. We postponed the conversation to think about it some more and just when I got settled in to read some scriptures and wind down I heard a funny noise. It sounded almost like trickling water. no, make that gushing water. No make that a full on House flood coming from a tub left on by Abe hours ago. The entire upstairs carpets and cabinets and walls and the ceiling downstairs and the AC ducts and the light fixtures…all of them gushing water everywhere. all over papers and pictures and electronics. The best part was that I received an email yesterday saying that when our home loan was sold a few months back there was some confusion about the transfer of the homeowners insurance policy and so the house was currently uninsured and the matter would need to be tended to first thing monday morning. It only stands to reason that the house would flood on the sunday before this error was corrected. I think everything will be fine but it did all happen a half hour before the wedding of one of my dearest friends. Her name is Chaunte and she was my little sister through Big Brothers Big Sisters years ago. We have always kept in touch and I have loved seeing what a wonderful responsible adult she has blossomed into. Not in my wildest dream would I miss her wedding and there I was on my hands and knees with a shop vac in hand salvaging all of my earthly possessions. I hope I can make it up to her. A healthy check is already in the mail. Isn't it amazing how like knows just how to kick your ass when you are down? Its a phenomenon that amazes me. I guess I need a major overhaul on my Sunday attitude or else I am doomed to Snafus like this every single week. Heaven help me.

my fertility

A very personal title for a very personal topic. Wow. I never knew how fraught this kind of this would be for me. I was one of those girls with the super human ovulation timer that never failed. Never a minute late, never a day off and never a case of PMS. Not to mention the totally painless deliveries and supernatural recoveries. I was the woman who was put on earth for the sole purpose of birthing children. I am tempted to write it on personal profiles and get to know you questionnaires "I crank out perfect children after perfect pregnancies and then they sleep and nurse and do long division right on schedule without so much as a menstrual cramp.

That was then. Now is a different story. Now the story is about betrayal and a stubborn defiant ovaries who have ganged up against me and decided that I shall have no say in the reproductive future of my nether regions. This act of war was responded to swiftly in the form of high doses of Provera a treatment of progesterone that should make Al Pachino sprout a vagina and bleed. No dice. You're supposed to take the progesterone to force the bleed so that you have a day to start counting from and then on day four you start taking the pills that force your ovaries to attention and make em kick out a perfect ripe egg or two. My body is in full mutiny. It will not respond to any of it. Not that we needed to check John but we did anyway just to have that special feeling of utter mortification when you leave your deposit and walk out avoiding eye contact with all humans. John's count was high and that just confirmed what I already knew. My womb is a rocky place where his seed can find no purchase. It only makes me sad when I think about the fat faced baby girl who will never inherit my eyelashes or call me every day when her kids are driving her crazy. I just want my Friend For Life. Weather we acknowledge it or not, we live in an extremely matriarchal society. A daughterless mother becomes an over-involved mother in law. Our boys are bound to marry and join their wives families because thats the way it goes.

The worst part of late infertility is that I don't get the luxury of complaining about it. I have two healthy perfect children born of my own body. How dare I feel sorry for myself that I didn't get more? I want to feel grateful for what I have and focus on what is. What is is blessings so great that they can't be spoken. Children so precious and of infinite worth that I have no business associating with let alone raise and teach and let them call me mother. I'm too blessed to ask for more but in the very moment of humble gratitude a little riot breaks out in my chest and screams JUST ONE MORE! ILL DO ANYTHING FOR JUST ONE MORE!

I guess if I were really serious about getting another kid cooking I would start making all kinds of invasive appointments and loading up on hormones and supplements. Perhaps the fact that that sounds too exhausting to bear is a good indicator that maybe a newborn isn't the best answer at the moment. No amount of sound logic can calm the heart of a baby hungry woman.

embracing his feminine side

This was the handiwork of Ella. She dressed Abe up in a dress and a wig and applied her signature make up look "Two Dollar Hooker".

Our living arrangement with the two households connected results in lots of random strangers visiting. The just appear in the back yard and often wander in uninvited. John and I both thought this was another random kid overflowing from Kristen's house. It took a minute to realize that this was our own child…in drag. He makes a pretty cute girl and Ella was thrilled to showcase her styling skills but he only put up with it for a few minutes before announcing that he was a boy and he was all done with his stint in cross dressing. I would be worried but this kid is all boy.

Life is a bowl of Eagle's Eyes

My kids love maraschino cherries. When we go to sonic we order extra cherries on the side. They are floored by my ability to tie the stem in a knot with my tongue.

I saw them at the grocery store and decided to buy a jar of them knowing that I was risking starting a major addiction especially with Abraham.

When I unpacked all of the groceries I made sure to put the cherries away in a place that wasn't super obvious. I buried them in the back behind jars of pickles and sauce and other uninteresting items. We had been home and had everything put away for maybe ten minutes when Jack opened the fridge to browse and Abe walked in from the back door at the same moment. From across the room his eyes honed in on the one unfamiliar object. He didn't even know what it was but all of his kid instincts were abuzz. "red. I want that. Its red."

I knew what he was asking for without even looking. He is a heat seeking missile when It comes to finding sweets. He has always had an unparalleled ability to find candy "You have Eagle Eyes!"

Still pointing and closing in on the fridge he continued "I want the red. I want the eagle eyes."

No amount of explaining would convince him that this delicious new delicacy was anything but actual eagle eyes. Telling him that they are cherries is clearly just another deception to throw him off the trail. He wont be fooled. He wants Eagle Eyes every day now. He offers them to visitors. When I make smoothies he begs "With an Eagle Eye on top!"

I have a feeling that this title is going to stick. Years from now we will be ordering sundaes with Eagle Eyes. We are omnivores but we try to stay away from the endangered species list.