No Vacancy Up Top

I know it is going to sound utterly stupid but sometimes I think to myself "what is on my mind?"  I know, right?  I mean why am I asking myself about what it is that I am thinking about.  Okay, circular logic behind me now.  Here are the things that have kept occupying my mind lately.

My kids, obviously.  Sometimes I wonder and worry about them and their various issues.  Lyman is a super smart kid and I love him to bits.  Sometimes his intelligence intimidates me because I know someday (and not too far off in the future) he is going to know way more than me.  I'm not worried exactly that he is smarter than me because I know he is.  But ultimately somehow I worry that it will make it difficult for him to see the value in the things that I do know - what is really important in life and how he can become a valuable person not just a valuable mind.  I also worry that he is too much like the both of us.  He has Andrew's way of thinking (and abundance of brain cells) - which should do him great good if he can only manage my side of his genetics.  He is far too social and loves to entertain people.  This means that in school, although he is performing significantly above his peers, his reports say he does not stay on task or use his time wisely.  Why? Because he is busy entertaining his friends while they do their work.  He is a great favorites at school for which I am glad but it still worries me.  You would think that seeing yourself in your kids would be gratifying but in this case, I rather wish he could put off being so social - at least until his work is done.

I worry about Corilynn because I cannot seem to motivate the girl to leave off with having accidents of both types and she is five.  I would like to say that my concern for her stems from wanting her to succeed in this area but really if I am being honest -  I want her to stop having accidents because it embarrasses me that I have a five year old that still wets and soils her pants occasionally.  I am terrified really that she will get to kindergarten (in just a few short months!!) and still have these issues.  I feel like a terrible person and mother for thinking of myself and my own embarrassment in this.  I have tried everything and the fact of the matter is that she simply doesn't care - it doesn't bother her.  You can all leave messages with encouragement, advice and the like and the fact is - Ive tried it all and she really doesn't care.  Until such a time that she finds it is important to her - I have to accept that it will not change.  Thankfully it is not everyday or really that regularly but it is regularly enough to be on my mind.  Furthermore, part of me does worry about her sweet little tender heart becoming embarrassed at school if it happens there.  She is not like Lyman (who seems to be able to let things roll off his back) she is tender and good natured and thinks no ill of anyone.  I hate to think she may be made fun of and have this rosy vision of the world around her be shaken.

Ruby - I don't worry much about her - she is still too young to give me much grief except for the two year old tantrums.  Though occasionally I do worry about how little she eats at times.  She is just such a tiny little thing but getting her to eat is occasionally a monumental task.

Another thing on my mind is the progress of my book.  For many months before Christmas we were working feverishly on the editing.  Back and forth we sent the chapters to each other (my editor, Gail and I) until each chapter was as perfect as we could wish it.  Then when all twenty were finished we sent the entire manuscript back and forth almost 10 times.  It was a flurry of activity and excitement.  The improvements to the book were amazing and still the book remained my own work.  It was a process I thoroughly enjoyed  because I was active, busy and watching my own work become something beautiful.  When we finally finished the editing we handed it off to the second editor.  It will be looked over by her to see if we might have missed anything.  She also happens to be my cover artist.  That was late December.  It is now nearly February and I am told I am in queue to start the cover art.  Being in queue sort of stinks, if you ask my opinion.  It means I went from a whirlwind of activity and excitement to cooling my heels doing nothing without any idea as to when we might start work again.  When the cover artist is ready for me, we will begin work on the cover.  Until that time I have to wait.  I am finding that publishing a book is the most exciting and boring thing in the world.  It takes much longer than you expect.

Okay, I think I have nearly emptied my cranium.  But one more thing - I have been thinking a lot on my upcoming anniversary in August.  Andy and I will be celebrating ten years together.  10 YEARS!  We have been saving up money for a couple of years now to do something really big with it.  We wanted to go to England and we may still but the Olympics this summer is a little off putting for us.  Nothing like celebrating your love in what could possibly a world target for terrorism.  So we have thought about a cruise of the Mediterranean.  Nothing like celebrating your love Titanic style either.  Hhmph!  We do not know what we will do but it is rather exciting to dream a little about it.  Maybe we will go somewhere really exciting like... Detroit.

Thankful Thursday

I am thankful my super cute kids and regency movies on cold afternoons. :)

I'll Thank You

My faith has been on the examination table pretty much from its inception.  In the early years opposers to it used sticks and stones, guns and threats (societal and political) to beat, drive and expel members from their region of America, an America founded upon principles of religious freedom.  Leaders of my faith were torn from their beds in the dead of winter, stripped of their clothing and tarred and feathered.  Driven from place to place, members faithfully held to their beliefs despite persecution. 

My entire life, my faith has been a source of amusement, curiosity and sometimes derision from those around me.  I remember being on the elementary bus and being asked if Mormons had horns, or could only use blue toilet paper (hint: the answer is no and no).  As I got older, the questions, or assumptions were often less fantastical in nature.  As a teen, I attended church with a friend of another faith once and while we waited for the rest of his family to gather after their various Sunday school lessons, I happened to notice the pamphlet wall.  Much to my amusement (and disappointment) right next to the pamphlet about "Safe Sex for Teenagers", was the one brightly entitled "The Evils of Mormonism."  I was at least relieved that members of that faith could learn how to avoid unwanted pregnancies, STDs and Mormons without going very far.  If I had not already gained a testimony, I could have been offended, instead of being merely diverted.  By that time anti-Mormon propaganda was nothing new to me.

The truth of the matter is that man's search for meaning and truth did not start with Joseph Smith in the spring of 1820.  The early Christians experienced worse degradations because of their belief than I could ever imagine (and hope never to experience).  Men throughout history have looked at their faith, questioned it and sometimes decided it did not fulfill all they wished for in their search for truth.  Martin Luther dared to question the Holy Roman Empire and the Roman Catholic Church, unknowingly starting a fraction of believers naming themselves after him.  Thus Lutherans were born.  John Wesley (and others) parted from the Church of England to form the Methodist church.  Even the Church of England parted ways with the Catholic church for doctrinal differences (and a few more).  All in all, man's search for truth endures to this day.  There is something inherent in mankind to strive to understand the inconceivable, to find higher purpose and meaning in their existence.  I thank these early men for following their convictions.  Without them, American could not have been founded by good, principled people wishing for the freedom to explore, practice and live their preferred religious beliefs. 

As an adult, the critics of my faith have used terms like cult to describe the Mormon faith.  I have been told I am not a Christian and that we are all blind sheep, unaware that the Mormon Train's final destination is hell.  Its sad really, considering I have never looked upon my friends of other faiths and felt similarly about their beliefs.  I know so many faithful and loving Christians of other faiths that have accepted me and mine as well.  I believe the majority of us respect each other's right to believe what they feel is right.  My experience with those who oppose my faith has been slim compared to the positive interactions I have had with members of other faiths.  But with the recent media attention on my faith because of the candidates (and the documented religious bigotry associated with it) I cannot help but feel the need to share and testify regarding my faith.  If only in the hope of dissolving some of that prejudice. 

I testify that I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior.  He is the Savior of all mankind and the foundation of my faith (religiously and personally).  I, likewise, know that the Bible AND the Book of Mormon are true scripture and the word of God.  I know that if a man wished to know the truth of these things, he need only to read the Book of Mormon, pray with a sincere heart, with real intent to know the truth and God will reveal the truth of it unto him.  I believe that Joseph Smith was a true prophet in his day and that we have a living prophet today that leads this church.  God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  He revealed things unto his prophets in the world of the Old and New Testament.  He reveals his word still, through a prophet.  I know exactly what I am about when I faithfully adhere to the principles of my religion.  I will faithfully defend others' right to do likewise with their faith as well.  I don't appreciate the assumption (and degradation) that my testimony is merely a shadow of my parents.  I am neither blind nor a sheep following without thought the course of my religion.  I believe and I'll thank you to remember it.

I said it.

To Lyman: "The umbrella's effectiveness significantly lessons when you do not hold it right side up and over your head."
Context: It is pouring rain outside and he is holding the umbrella either to the side of him and spinning it or upside down over his head creating a bowl to collect the water while waiting for the bus.

To Ruby: "No!  Do not pour your cereal out all over the floor!"
Context: She decided the cereal she chose and was eating was no longer what she wanted - she wanted a different kind.
Additional Context: Corilynn told her to.

To Coriynn: "You do not tell your sister to pour out her cereal.  Now, you get to help her clean it up."
Context: See above.

To Ruby: "Yucky, you have lots of boogers.  Can you get Mommy a tissue?"
Context: Kids hate wiping their noses but if you trick them into feeling big by helping you get the tissue, you can sometimes trap them.

To Ruby (2 minutes later): "Oh, that isn't a tissue.  That is a towel."
Context: She brought me a kitchen towel.  Fantastic.

To me, from Corilynn: "Mom, when am I going to get breakfast?"
Context: I have no idea, she is in her own little world.  She just finished her breakfast of milk and oatmeal.

To Corilynn: "You just finished eating breakfast."
To me, from Corilynn: "Oh, yeah! ha ha ha."

To Me, from Me: "Is it only 8 in the morning?  I want to go back to bed."

Thankful Thursday

We finished the editing on my book, Falling For Mr. Darcy, a few weeks ago, days after Christmas.  The next step, I was told, was the cover art and a final inspection from another editor.  I was eager to start that but then I had heard nothing for a long while.  I am thankful that I have news on that front, finally.

I was told that I am in queue for the cover artist (who is also going to be my second editor) but that she has one maybe two books ahead of mine.  Bummer.  So although I know where we are at (I'm naming it the waiting phase) I still do not know if I am looking at weeks or worse to start the cover art.  I hope much sooner.  I felt like the editing was a whirlwind of activity and then....nothing. 

On another literary note: I submitted my second novel, Bluebells in the Mourning, for publication last month as well.  I have since learned they have received it and it is under review.  Well, the waiting phase has started on that account as well, I guess.  :)  Wish me luck on both accounts!

Thankful Thursday

I am thankful that my littlest girl still fits snugly in the crook of my arm.  Nothing feels better than when her little head leans back and she snuggles in to it like her own little lazy boy recliner.  I also love that she does this often.

Every Mother Wonders

Every mother wonders if their child will turn out alright. 

When you have to ask them to stop (sometimes quite firmly) making gaseous noises with their hand in their armpit, their arm flapping up and down (thanks Dad for teaching him that) at the dinner table - you wonder. 

When you have to remind them to flush the toilet and wash their hands and close the door and keep the seat clean, and lower the seat and... and... and...  - you wonder.

When you have to play rescuer to your daughters because he purposely pushes their buttons (repeatedly and with enthusiasm) - you wonder.

When you are sick with the stomach flu for the whole weekend and you wake up Monday morning and he brings this to your bedside (and quickly runs away embarrassed) -

- You don't wonder as much anymore.  Best. Note. Ever.

Thankful Thursday

I am thankful for snuggles with my girls.  I love it when they give me snuggles on the couch when they first wake up or when they just want to be near me.  Sometimes I get that mother claustrophobia with all my kids clamoring to be in proximity of my person, but when it comes to the snuggles- I never feel smothered. 

I am also thankful for love notes from Corilynn.  Everyday when I pick her up from preschool she has an envelope for me and inside she wrote me a love note.  The envelopes are pretty packed with decorations of stickers or stamps but inside it usually says simply, "I {heart} U MOM."  But everyday she chooses to go to the letters station instead of doing something else and it warms my heart that she thinks of me.

Happy Birthday Charlotte!

Today is my sort-of daughter's birthday.  Our exchange student, Charlotte, turns 17 today.  It's such a fun age to be.  We are so grateful to have her in our home and part of our family.  She fits in splendidly.  During the time she has been in our home she has come to feel very much like a daughter to us.  In some ways she is more - she is a dear friend as well. 

Snow White

Last evening we received news of the unexpected and premature death of a friend's son.  When Andy told me I was so stunned.  My mind could only process my feeble protest at the news.  My heart immediately going to my friend (who has had to endure more heartache in her life than any one aught to in this life having lost her husband tragically  a few years ago as well).  As I slowly began to accommodate the truth in my mind, all I could think of and wish for was to comfort my friend.  I felt helpless and lost.  This boy was special to our family.  My son used to idolize him when the family lived here before their move.  It didn't matter that he was 8 years older than Lyman.  My son didn't seem to realize he was not just as big.  The only thing I could think of doing at that moment that I knew would help was to call together my family and offer up a prayer for theirs.  As we gathered around each other to pray, Andy told the kids who had died.  Our humble prayer was the only thing we could offer for comfort for his mother and sisters.  And yet I knew it would be enough. I know that Heavenly Father was with them during this difficult time.  I knew that he would comfort and keep them. 

Afterwards, Lyman was saddened and wished to curl up in a ball on my lap for a very long time.  I held him and rocked him and wished I would never need to let him go.  I was so grateful for my children, so grateful to have them with me.  The rest of the evening my thoughts and prayers were constantly on my friend and her family.  I could not keep myself from continuously praying for them.  I could easily put myself in her shoes and the hurt and pain I imagined she was suffering would bring me to my knees again. 

This morning I awoke with the same sympathies and cares for my friend weighing down my heart and mind.  I offered up another prayer on her behalf.  When I looked out the window I saw that the snow was falling.  Falling and covering the ground with a beautiful white for the first time this season in Ohio.  It was coming down in big, fat flakes making everything a pure, spotless white.  I cried a prayer of gratitude for the snow, not because I was grateful for the precipitation but because the beauty outside reminded me of the tremendous power of the atonement of Christ to wash away all the ugly and sad in our lives.  To make everything white and pure and beautiful again.  No more shadows or dark places.  I was so thankful at that moment for the knowledge that Jesus died also to endure and know our sorrows.  I was thankful again for the knowledge that as alone as I can imagine my friend feels, she is not alone at all.