Before we put the wash out on Monday's wash line---
A good friend of mine pointed out some possible 'false elements' in my analogy in my last blog in which I compared illegal immigrants to thieves who break into my home (which I extended to include my country).
First of all, I really appreciate her sharing the view from her window. In writing a blog I want to share my views but I would also like to have others share their views with me. When I hear what others have to say I gain new perspectives and I give further thought to my opinions and have a stronger desire to broaden my exploration of the topics I choose to write about.
Now back to my analogy...my friend pointed out that the United States has made the laws responsible for allowing the illegal immigrants to help themselves to free education, medical care, etc. In some respects our country does leave the door open with tempting good stuff left out on the counter within easy reach but then sporadically gets angry with intruders taking advantage of such an appealing opportunity. My friend mentioned how shameful it is that people are deported in the middle of the night and families are torn apart because suddenly the United States decides to tighten those laws that have been so loose. She also pointed out that the United States often makes it a ridiculously long and difficult process for people to obtain legal residence. All of these points are valid and well made. They are also well taken. The United States has been wishy washy at best and hypocritical at worst when it comes to matters of immigration. We would do well in this country to put our energies and passion into correcting or changing ineffectual laws and defending our constitution instead of into name calling, side-taking, and venomous attitudes toward other people.
If I leave my home unattended and the doors open then when someone comes onto my property and helps themselves to my possessions then yes, I need to be more responsible in properly safeguarding my home but the person is still trespassing and they are still guilty of a crime. People commit crimes for various reasons. Some people just want to take because they can or because they feel they have a right of some sort, others take because they feel they have no choice. I wonder what I would do if I felt like the only way to properly take care of my family and give them a future would be to flee my country? How would I feel about the tantalizing freedoms just across the border and what would I do to obtain them?
It is obviously necessary and wise to protect and defend our borders. Laws need to be clearly defined and consistently enforced. People from other countries should be welcome but should also be understanding of our cause for caution. People who want to really immigrate need to want to become Americans. This doesn't mean that they should be expected to give up all ties to their native country or turn their backs on their heritage. It would be un-American of us to expect that but welcoming positive cultural contributions is a very American thing to do. Notice I say positive contributions---not all cultural customs are good (Including some American cultural customs). Some should be left behind because they contributed to the reasons for wanting to leave the home country in the first place. I think sometimes we have become so engrossed with embracing diversity in our country that we end up giving a cold shoulder to unity. Elder Dallin H. Oaks said that diversity is a means to an end not an end---unity should be the end goal. I really like the Oxford Dictionary definition of unity from an artistic perspective: the state of forming a complete and pleasing whole. Each of us regardless of ethnic background should bring our best to forming a more perfect union---building a strong nation under God with liberty and justice for all. (Yes, here is where music by the Tabernacle Choir fades in...)
That's enough for now...
Today is Memorial Day---a day to pause and think about the fact that freedom has a cost. Our freedoms have been won and defended at the sacrifice of young promising lives. We enjoy the personal circumstances in which we live because of sacrifices of those who have gone before us in our families. Today is a day to remember and to be grateful.
When I was a kid Memorial Day was a day of visiting the cemetery and having a backyard barbeque. The day began with cutting bouquets of lilacs, irises, snowballs, and peonies and putting them in a bucket of water to take to the cemetery. It was my job to hold the bucket securely between my feet. We would stop and pick up my grandma on our way to Elysian Gardens in Salt Lake. That was the only cemetery we visited because my Dad's deceased family members were all buried in Texas. My sister spooked me by telling me that it was bad luck to step on grave stones. I used to worry about what would happen to me if I came close at all to the markers. I was fascinated by reading the markers and wondering about the lives of those who rested there. The cemetery was like one epic drama with a variety of characters and time periods and numerous story lines but only scattered details. There were elements of tragedy and true love, valor and mystery. To this day I thoroughly enjoy walking through cemetaries. For the most part they are peaceful and lend themselves to quiet contemplation. However, I don't think I would relish walking through one at night. Cemeteries are resting places but some people seem to rest more serenely than others...
It seems like older people are the main denizens of decorating cemeteries. They most likely have a greater conscious appreciation for the value of life and of remembering. They have grown closer to those whose graves they visit both in a physical sense and in a spiritual sense. My mother-in-law was just saying how hard it was for her now to go to the cemeteries and that it was our(my husband and I) turn to take up the tradition. I have never been very consistent about making the cemetery rounds on Memorial Day. I think I just might correct that. Cemeteries do more than honor the dead--- they celebrate life. Cemeteries decorated with flowers and balloons and pinwheels show that life continues. The sting of death was truly taken away through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Life and death co-exist in mortality. Death is not the end of living and the grave is not the final resting place but it does seem appropriate that our deceased physical bodies rest in the bosom of the earth until they are joined with our spirits in eternal life.
Memorial Day is the first entry in a parade of long summer days. It is a day of breaking out the barbeque grill and dusting off the outside furniture. When I was a kid it was one of the first days (after Field Day at school) that I was allowed to wear sun suits(remember those?) or shorts.
Snow shovels have been moved behind rakes in the shed. Christmas lights are gathering dust while wind chimes are washed and hung. Coats and sweaters have been pushed back into the dark recesses of closets. Sno Shacks have popped up as spots of color in asphalt gardens. Salads sound much better than soup and the thought of homemade icecream makes our mouths water. Summer is coming...Do you notice that our anticipation of a wonderful summer ahead is heightened by our memories of summers past?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Bordering on Insanity or Who Gets Left Out in the Cold?
If I did have Monday's wash hung out today it would be cold and soggy and drooping under a wet Spring snow---kind of like my vegetable plants and Spring flowers...I'll hope and pray for the hardiness and survival of my endangered flora and be very grateful for my clothes dryer on a day like today.
I have been thinking about immigration. I know that is currently a tumultuous topic so I will tread carefully. (However, I won't try and walk on egg shells because I don't know that I am very good at it--but I will at least try and be careful) I will also preface my remarks with an admission that I am pretty simple-minded when it comes to matters of a political nature and I do tend to be led more by my feelings than by my thoughts when it comes to topics of controversy.
I am trying to grasp just how to feel and what to think about immigration and to decide which side of the debate I am on. I do know that I have read some newspaper articles that have not set well with me. These articles tell of the unfair treatment of illegal immigrants, how upset the President of Mexico is with the United States for how they are dealing with people from his country illegally crossing our borders, and how angry people in the United States are with Arizona for employing stronger measures to secure their borders and ensure the safety of their citizens. There is something not right with these perspectives. Like I said, they do not set well with me---kind of like a type of food that many people say is good and try to get you eat but it tastes a little off, it's a bit hard to swallow and doesn't digest smoothly...all leading me to wonder just how good it is...
I find that analogies help me to better process information so here goes...
The United States of America is my home. My state of Utah, my city of Riverton, my community, my neighborhood, the street where I live, and my very hearth and home all act simultaneously as important arteries that pump the lifeblood from the heart of America which is freedom and veins that keep the freedom circulating.
Many homes in America, including my own, have locks on their doors and fences around their outlying property. Is this because we are selfish and don't want to share? No. It is to protect our families and to defend what we have worked hard to obtain. It doesn't mean we lack generosity or compassion it just means we are trying to be wise stewards. It has been evidenced time and time again in the past that The United States of America is the country that provides not only opportunity but protection and aid. It is the country that takes care of its own and reaches out to others. But the reason it has been such a strong and prosperous country that is strong enough to be a valuable ally is because it has been a wise and prudent country both in matters of defense and diplomacy.
I would not take kindly to people sneaking in my back door or breaking in through a basement window to help themselves to my family's food or clothing or bank accounts and how would I feel about these people complaining about the quality of what they were taking or what would I think if they claimed to be victims of my anger or unfair treatment of them? But what if these people didn't have all of the resources and opportunities that I do? Then I would be much more willing to help them if they came to the front door. I would be sad, frightened, and greatly surprised if my neighbors accused me of being mean if I didn't continue to let people break into my house and help themselves to my belongings. It would be much more sane and productive if my neighbors worked with me on coming up with a solution to the problem.
I have no problem with America welcoming people from other countries but if those people decide to move in then they need to abide by the house rules. They need to learn the language, obey the laws, and do what they can to contribute to the country's greatness. I expect no less of my children in my home and America should expect no less from it's citizens. This is the difference between adopting a country as your own and kidnapping a country and holding it for ransom. When boundaries are blurred, rules are only weakly enforced and consequences are inappropriate for the choices made or non-existent then confusion contaminates cooperation and chaos rules. When this is the climate in a home then children are spoiled, do not learn self-sufficiency or responsibility for their actions, and are very likely to rebel and destroy the peace. When this is the climate of a country then its citizens become at best apathetic and at worst tyrannical and the country is well on its way to crumbling or falling under the rule of those who only care about their own freedom.
I think the President of Mexico should be concentrating on how to strengthen and improve his country instead of pilfering a right to complain about unfair treatment of his people who are fleeing his country. That seems similar to neglectful parents who sue their neighbor because their unsupervised children get injured after sneaking into the neighbor's yard. Arizona's new law as I understand it could lead to inconvenience or unfair bias for legal immigrants but as my husband pointed out...even meter maids can be biased against whoever...all laws can be abused if we allow them to be---look at the laws about entering our country. We always hope to have sensible people enforcing our laws and should do all we can to make that happen. I have heard that this law would actually in some ways prevent racial profiling. Arizona has had a lot of problems with drug trafficking and kidnappings. I think they are just trying harder to defend their home by exercising reasonable and warranted caution. It is sad that so many of their fellow Americans fail to see this and think that it is somehow offensive to ask people to identify themselves.
I do think there are companies and individuals in the United States who have taken advantage of illegal immigrants. I think many of us have benefited in some way by illegal immigrants being overworked and underpaid. Because of this I think the United States bears a responsibility to find some sensible way to help those illegal immigrants who want to become law-abiding contributing citizens of the United States of America and who have already made positive contributions. I think that many involved in the immigration debate are not thinking clearly. I think many who are in favor of relaxing our border control and complete amnesty are confusing generosity with vulnerability and that is endangering our country. There are some on the other side of the issue who are so angry with illegal immigrants that their anger can turn into consuming hatred and rampant prejudice that threatens brotherly love that can foster an atmosphere of peace and respect. I also think that many people in politics are more concerned with popularity and personal agendas than they are with the principles on which America was founded and what will truly be best for our country. The voice of the people is all too often drowned out by the self-serving mantras shouted by the media. Common sense used to be highly valued by Americans but now it seems there are those who consider it to be overrated. Perhaps we all need to tread more carefully and not only be careful where we step but in what direction our chosen path will lead us. God Bless America---please. What do you think?
Well the view outside my window is much more cheering than it was earlier. The snow has melted, the sun is out, and it looks as if most of our plants will survive. Being hung out to dry can be positive when it comes to wash or wet plants...
I have been thinking about immigration. I know that is currently a tumultuous topic so I will tread carefully. (However, I won't try and walk on egg shells because I don't know that I am very good at it--but I will at least try and be careful) I will also preface my remarks with an admission that I am pretty simple-minded when it comes to matters of a political nature and I do tend to be led more by my feelings than by my thoughts when it comes to topics of controversy.
I am trying to grasp just how to feel and what to think about immigration and to decide which side of the debate I am on. I do know that I have read some newspaper articles that have not set well with me. These articles tell of the unfair treatment of illegal immigrants, how upset the President of Mexico is with the United States for how they are dealing with people from his country illegally crossing our borders, and how angry people in the United States are with Arizona for employing stronger measures to secure their borders and ensure the safety of their citizens. There is something not right with these perspectives. Like I said, they do not set well with me---kind of like a type of food that many people say is good and try to get you eat but it tastes a little off, it's a bit hard to swallow and doesn't digest smoothly...all leading me to wonder just how good it is...
I find that analogies help me to better process information so here goes...
The United States of America is my home. My state of Utah, my city of Riverton, my community, my neighborhood, the street where I live, and my very hearth and home all act simultaneously as important arteries that pump the lifeblood from the heart of America which is freedom and veins that keep the freedom circulating.
Many homes in America, including my own, have locks on their doors and fences around their outlying property. Is this because we are selfish and don't want to share? No. It is to protect our families and to defend what we have worked hard to obtain. It doesn't mean we lack generosity or compassion it just means we are trying to be wise stewards. It has been evidenced time and time again in the past that The United States of America is the country that provides not only opportunity but protection and aid. It is the country that takes care of its own and reaches out to others. But the reason it has been such a strong and prosperous country that is strong enough to be a valuable ally is because it has been a wise and prudent country both in matters of defense and diplomacy.
I would not take kindly to people sneaking in my back door or breaking in through a basement window to help themselves to my family's food or clothing or bank accounts and how would I feel about these people complaining about the quality of what they were taking or what would I think if they claimed to be victims of my anger or unfair treatment of them? But what if these people didn't have all of the resources and opportunities that I do? Then I would be much more willing to help them if they came to the front door. I would be sad, frightened, and greatly surprised if my neighbors accused me of being mean if I didn't continue to let people break into my house and help themselves to my belongings. It would be much more sane and productive if my neighbors worked with me on coming up with a solution to the problem.
I have no problem with America welcoming people from other countries but if those people decide to move in then they need to abide by the house rules. They need to learn the language, obey the laws, and do what they can to contribute to the country's greatness. I expect no less of my children in my home and America should expect no less from it's citizens. This is the difference between adopting a country as your own and kidnapping a country and holding it for ransom. When boundaries are blurred, rules are only weakly enforced and consequences are inappropriate for the choices made or non-existent then confusion contaminates cooperation and chaos rules. When this is the climate in a home then children are spoiled, do not learn self-sufficiency or responsibility for their actions, and are very likely to rebel and destroy the peace. When this is the climate of a country then its citizens become at best apathetic and at worst tyrannical and the country is well on its way to crumbling or falling under the rule of those who only care about their own freedom.
I think the President of Mexico should be concentrating on how to strengthen and improve his country instead of pilfering a right to complain about unfair treatment of his people who are fleeing his country. That seems similar to neglectful parents who sue their neighbor because their unsupervised children get injured after sneaking into the neighbor's yard. Arizona's new law as I understand it could lead to inconvenience or unfair bias for legal immigrants but as my husband pointed out...even meter maids can be biased against whoever...all laws can be abused if we allow them to be---look at the laws about entering our country. We always hope to have sensible people enforcing our laws and should do all we can to make that happen. I have heard that this law would actually in some ways prevent racial profiling. Arizona has had a lot of problems with drug trafficking and kidnappings. I think they are just trying harder to defend their home by exercising reasonable and warranted caution. It is sad that so many of their fellow Americans fail to see this and think that it is somehow offensive to ask people to identify themselves.
I do think there are companies and individuals in the United States who have taken advantage of illegal immigrants. I think many of us have benefited in some way by illegal immigrants being overworked and underpaid. Because of this I think the United States bears a responsibility to find some sensible way to help those illegal immigrants who want to become law-abiding contributing citizens of the United States of America and who have already made positive contributions. I think that many involved in the immigration debate are not thinking clearly. I think many who are in favor of relaxing our border control and complete amnesty are confusing generosity with vulnerability and that is endangering our country. There are some on the other side of the issue who are so angry with illegal immigrants that their anger can turn into consuming hatred and rampant prejudice that threatens brotherly love that can foster an atmosphere of peace and respect. I also think that many people in politics are more concerned with popularity and personal agendas than they are with the principles on which America was founded and what will truly be best for our country. The voice of the people is all too often drowned out by the self-serving mantras shouted by the media. Common sense used to be highly valued by Americans but now it seems there are those who consider it to be overrated. Perhaps we all need to tread more carefully and not only be careful where we step but in what direction our chosen path will lead us. God Bless America---please. What do you think?
Well the view outside my window is much more cheering than it was earlier. The snow has melted, the sun is out, and it looks as if most of our plants will survive. Being hung out to dry can be positive when it comes to wash or wet plants...
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Answer To The Question
Real Quick---Regarding my last post: The Willy Wonka fruit candies in the tin are called Fruit Marvels and the reason I chose the fruit jellies and marvels is because they contain 25% fruit juice which is more than twice the amount in a lot of fruit drinks. (And because they come in cute containers and I'm a sucker for candy---Did someone say suckers?)
On to more serious topics...
Many breaking news stories cause us to ask the question, "Why?" Recently there were two stories that brought that question front and center in the minds of people all over the world. The stories were about two young boys. One boy survived an airplane crash that killed all the other 103 passengers including his parents and his brother. The other boy could have been saved by the woman who gave birth to him but wasn't and didn't survive the brutality of the man who mattered more to his mother than her own son. The 'why' question frequently turns into the 'how' question. It is easy to wonder how Ruben, the boy who miraculously survived the plane crash, ended up still in his seat bruised and broken but alive, surrounded by death and destruction. And of course the story of little Ethan, the boy who died from horrendous abuse at the hands of his mother's boyfriend, makes any rational decent human being wonder how a man could do such horrible things to a four year old child.
There are many guesses as to how and why Ruben survived. My favorite answer to the why was given by one of his doctors, God saved him because he isn't finished with what he is supposed to accomplish in this life. (Not a direct quote, but along those lines) Ruben is healing. Ruben lost those family members closest to him but his remaining family---his grandparents, aunts and uncles are taking him into a loving environment where he can grieve, find answers to his questions about what happened, and hopefully heal physically and emotionally. I believe he will go on to finish what he needs to in this life and that he will feel his parents and brother with him and that someday they will all meet again and catch up on what everyone's been doing.
Ethan's family has lost him, at least for now. I don't consider the man who murdered him part of his family and I question whether to even consider his mother as part of his family, but his father and many others mourn him and what could have been. I believe that just as Ruben was taken home by people who loved him and rejoiced at his survival, Ethan was taken home to heal in the loving embrace of Heavenly Father who will answer his questions and rejoice in his safety and happiness.
In a radio broadcast following Ethan's death and the discovery of the abuse and the part Ethan's mother played in the descecration of her son's body to hide the evil deed, one of Ethan's neighbors asked the question, "Where do these monsters come from?" That is both a good question and a disturbing one. I look at pictures of Ethan's mother and of the man who murdered Ethan and I try to picture them as children---as innocent babies. Don't we all start out that way? How did they go from innocent child to someone who seems to have such little value for human life--who has such darkness in their heart--someone who can do something so heinous to a defenseless and innocent child---someone who is... a monster?
We are all composites of our environments, circumstances, and experiences. I believe our mortality comes from the dust of the earth. Our bodies are very earth-like---having many elements in common with the earth. But our bodies clothe a divinely created spirit. The point of this life is to 'put off the natural man'---to arise from the dust, shake it off, to allow ourselves to be refined into more than what we are. Then our spirits will master our bodies and both will come together into an exalted soul. Of course this can only be accomplished by following the example of Jesus Christ and accepting his atoning sacrifice. Eternal life is all about progression. Damnation is ceasing to progress. (My wise husband brought this truth to my awareness) Recently I was listening to tapes of The Silmarillion by Tolkien. It told of how a group of elves were captured by a creator who refused to be in harmony with the other creators and brought discord and that through ages of torture and enslavement the beautiful elves became ugly vile creatures called orcs who served their evil master. Human monsters aren't really creations but distortions of creation. Each one of us is capable of becoming a monster if we allow ourselves to be captured by evil or to be deceived by distorted truth. We are children of God but we are also less than the dust of the Earth. To be children of God does not insure that we will be heirs with God. That is something that takes faith and work and obedience.
All children go through a phase where they are terrified of monsters; the kind that lurk under the bed, or wait in dark corners, or hide in the back of the closet. As they get older they learn that those monsters are not real but that monsters do exist. It is so very sad that for many children monsters come in the form of people who should love them and protect them and those monsters are very real and very dangerous. Jesus loves little children. During his earthly ministry he gathered them to him and ministered unto them and loved them and he told his disciples to not turn away little children for of such is the kingdom of heaven. Because of the depth of his love I know that in cases where little children like Ethan suffer fear and torment and pain Jesus has suffered with them and angels are sent to help them endure just as an angel was sent to strengthen Jesus in Gethsemane, and when it is time for them to be taken home they continue to be encircled in the arms of Jesus' love.
The world is full of miracles and horrors and of Rubens and Ethans who remind us that some questions are hard to answer. We rejoice over the Rubens and hurt and grieve for the Ethans. There are all kinds of survivors. There is more to living than surviving and more to surviving than living. I find wisdom that helps me as a mortal in Proverbs 3:5,6 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
On to more serious topics...
Many breaking news stories cause us to ask the question, "Why?" Recently there were two stories that brought that question front and center in the minds of people all over the world. The stories were about two young boys. One boy survived an airplane crash that killed all the other 103 passengers including his parents and his brother. The other boy could have been saved by the woman who gave birth to him but wasn't and didn't survive the brutality of the man who mattered more to his mother than her own son. The 'why' question frequently turns into the 'how' question. It is easy to wonder how Ruben, the boy who miraculously survived the plane crash, ended up still in his seat bruised and broken but alive, surrounded by death and destruction. And of course the story of little Ethan, the boy who died from horrendous abuse at the hands of his mother's boyfriend, makes any rational decent human being wonder how a man could do such horrible things to a four year old child.
There are many guesses as to how and why Ruben survived. My favorite answer to the why was given by one of his doctors, God saved him because he isn't finished with what he is supposed to accomplish in this life. (Not a direct quote, but along those lines) Ruben is healing. Ruben lost those family members closest to him but his remaining family---his grandparents, aunts and uncles are taking him into a loving environment where he can grieve, find answers to his questions about what happened, and hopefully heal physically and emotionally. I believe he will go on to finish what he needs to in this life and that he will feel his parents and brother with him and that someday they will all meet again and catch up on what everyone's been doing.
Ethan's family has lost him, at least for now. I don't consider the man who murdered him part of his family and I question whether to even consider his mother as part of his family, but his father and many others mourn him and what could have been. I believe that just as Ruben was taken home by people who loved him and rejoiced at his survival, Ethan was taken home to heal in the loving embrace of Heavenly Father who will answer his questions and rejoice in his safety and happiness.
In a radio broadcast following Ethan's death and the discovery of the abuse and the part Ethan's mother played in the descecration of her son's body to hide the evil deed, one of Ethan's neighbors asked the question, "Where do these monsters come from?" That is both a good question and a disturbing one. I look at pictures of Ethan's mother and of the man who murdered Ethan and I try to picture them as children---as innocent babies. Don't we all start out that way? How did they go from innocent child to someone who seems to have such little value for human life--who has such darkness in their heart--someone who can do something so heinous to a defenseless and innocent child---someone who is... a monster?
We are all composites of our environments, circumstances, and experiences. I believe our mortality comes from the dust of the earth. Our bodies are very earth-like---having many elements in common with the earth. But our bodies clothe a divinely created spirit. The point of this life is to 'put off the natural man'---to arise from the dust, shake it off, to allow ourselves to be refined into more than what we are. Then our spirits will master our bodies and both will come together into an exalted soul. Of course this can only be accomplished by following the example of Jesus Christ and accepting his atoning sacrifice. Eternal life is all about progression. Damnation is ceasing to progress. (My wise husband brought this truth to my awareness) Recently I was listening to tapes of The Silmarillion by Tolkien. It told of how a group of elves were captured by a creator who refused to be in harmony with the other creators and brought discord and that through ages of torture and enslavement the beautiful elves became ugly vile creatures called orcs who served their evil master. Human monsters aren't really creations but distortions of creation. Each one of us is capable of becoming a monster if we allow ourselves to be captured by evil or to be deceived by distorted truth. We are children of God but we are also less than the dust of the Earth. To be children of God does not insure that we will be heirs with God. That is something that takes faith and work and obedience.
All children go through a phase where they are terrified of monsters; the kind that lurk under the bed, or wait in dark corners, or hide in the back of the closet. As they get older they learn that those monsters are not real but that monsters do exist. It is so very sad that for many children monsters come in the form of people who should love them and protect them and those monsters are very real and very dangerous. Jesus loves little children. During his earthly ministry he gathered them to him and ministered unto them and loved them and he told his disciples to not turn away little children for of such is the kingdom of heaven. Because of the depth of his love I know that in cases where little children like Ethan suffer fear and torment and pain Jesus has suffered with them and angels are sent to help them endure just as an angel was sent to strengthen Jesus in Gethsemane, and when it is time for them to be taken home they continue to be encircled in the arms of Jesus' love.
The world is full of miracles and horrors and of Rubens and Ethans who remind us that some questions are hard to answer. We rejoice over the Rubens and hurt and grieve for the Ethans. There are all kinds of survivors. There is more to living than surviving and more to surviving than living. I find wisdom that helps me as a mortal in Proverbs 3:5,6 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Monday's Wash Line on Wednesday
I need more hours in my day so that I can write everyday! Either that or I just need to love writing more than sleeping, eating, reading etc. I do love writing and it drives me crazy when I don't get to sit down and do it, but I frequently let too many other things but in line--some of them have a right to but others I should be better at standing up to.
Anyway... here are some random thoughts I thought I would air out---
On Saturday, I took my daughter to get a haircut. There was a little boy who came in and his mother was leaving him there with his dad while she ran someplace else. She said it was his first time to get a salon cut so she hoped he wouldn't panic. Being a mother I could understand her feelings but she said something as she left that puzzled me. She told him goodbye and then she said, "If you're good you can use your knife at dinner tonight." I'm sure there is a perfectly sensible story behind her statement but my daughter and I had a lot of sinister fun exploring the possibilities...We hoped that a knife wasn't the only utensil he got to use. What if they were having soup for dinner? "Now Son, just be glad we're having chicken noodle soup and not tomato." Maybe he had to do some other good thing to earn the use of his spoon or fork. My daughter came up with lots of other 'If you're good-s'. If you're good you can run with scissors. If you're good you can play in the street. If you're good you can have a food fight with your brother. Bizarre I know, but we had some great giggles.
Also on Saturday I made quite the find while perusing the candy aisle at Wal Mart. (I frequently peruse candy aisles either because I am looking for a splurge, I feel fat and I want just a little more motivation to do something about it, I don't just have a sweet tooth but a whole mouthful, or because I am trying to eat right and I want to reminisce about more carefree skinny times) I found some new Willy Wonka candies. Apparently Willy Wonka has a new line called Exceptionals. This struck me as funny (also my daughter-she didn't strike me as funny--that time anyway--but she also found the name entertaining) because of the combination of Wonka and Exceptional. I love Willy Wonka--the Roald Dahl character---both the Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp movie versions--and the candy, but I think most people would agree that Willy Wonka is outrageous and crazy. The word wonky means off-center. So...Willy Wonka Exceptionals is kind of like Daffy Duck's Delectables---just funny. Anyway, I purchased some Willy Wonka Exceptional Fruit Jellies-grapefruit flavor and a cute round tin of Willy Wonka Exceptional Fruit Drops (I don't remember if that was the exact name)--pomegranate flavor--they are hard on the outside with a jelly center.Both are 'lightly dusted with sugar'. They are very good. Pricey but good. Actually there are some chocolate bars in the Exceptionals line as well and Nestle is even sponsoring a Golden Ticket contest with a trip around the world as Grand Prize. I went to the web site to see the official rules and I couldn't help but chuckle when it said No Purchase Necessary to Win. Well then how do you slowly open the wrapper and wait with mouthwatering anticipation to catch a glimpse of gold? You can't have that experience without first buying the candy! (That would truly be an exceptional experience)
Today I was putting on my eyeshadow and really looked at the label. It is called Beyond Natural. I couldn't help but wonder what is beyond natural? That's like saying lets get Back to Beyond Basics. How about Beyond Beautiful or Beyond Youthful---those sound fun...or scary. In the words of Buzz Lightyear,"To infinity and beyond!" Does anyone know what's beyond infinity? Anyway, my eyes look beyond natural and hopefully that's a good thing.
Anyway... here are some random thoughts I thought I would air out---
On Saturday, I took my daughter to get a haircut. There was a little boy who came in and his mother was leaving him there with his dad while she ran someplace else. She said it was his first time to get a salon cut so she hoped he wouldn't panic. Being a mother I could understand her feelings but she said something as she left that puzzled me. She told him goodbye and then she said, "If you're good you can use your knife at dinner tonight." I'm sure there is a perfectly sensible story behind her statement but my daughter and I had a lot of sinister fun exploring the possibilities...We hoped that a knife wasn't the only utensil he got to use. What if they were having soup for dinner? "Now Son, just be glad we're having chicken noodle soup and not tomato." Maybe he had to do some other good thing to earn the use of his spoon or fork. My daughter came up with lots of other 'If you're good-s'. If you're good you can run with scissors. If you're good you can play in the street. If you're good you can have a food fight with your brother. Bizarre I know, but we had some great giggles.
Also on Saturday I made quite the find while perusing the candy aisle at Wal Mart. (I frequently peruse candy aisles either because I am looking for a splurge, I feel fat and I want just a little more motivation to do something about it, I don't just have a sweet tooth but a whole mouthful, or because I am trying to eat right and I want to reminisce about more carefree skinny times) I found some new Willy Wonka candies. Apparently Willy Wonka has a new line called Exceptionals. This struck me as funny (also my daughter-she didn't strike me as funny--that time anyway--but she also found the name entertaining) because of the combination of Wonka and Exceptional. I love Willy Wonka--the Roald Dahl character---both the Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp movie versions--and the candy, but I think most people would agree that Willy Wonka is outrageous and crazy. The word wonky means off-center. So...Willy Wonka Exceptionals is kind of like Daffy Duck's Delectables---just funny. Anyway, I purchased some Willy Wonka Exceptional Fruit Jellies-grapefruit flavor and a cute round tin of Willy Wonka Exceptional Fruit Drops (I don't remember if that was the exact name)--pomegranate flavor--they are hard on the outside with a jelly center.Both are 'lightly dusted with sugar'. They are very good. Pricey but good. Actually there are some chocolate bars in the Exceptionals line as well and Nestle is even sponsoring a Golden Ticket contest with a trip around the world as Grand Prize. I went to the web site to see the official rules and I couldn't help but chuckle when it said No Purchase Necessary to Win. Well then how do you slowly open the wrapper and wait with mouthwatering anticipation to catch a glimpse of gold? You can't have that experience without first buying the candy! (That would truly be an exceptional experience)
Today I was putting on my eyeshadow and really looked at the label. It is called Beyond Natural. I couldn't help but wonder what is beyond natural? That's like saying lets get Back to Beyond Basics. How about Beyond Beautiful or Beyond Youthful---those sound fun...or scary. In the words of Buzz Lightyear,"To infinity and beyond!" Does anyone know what's beyond infinity? Anyway, my eyes look beyond natural and hopefully that's a good thing.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
How Many Miles Did I Put On Me In The Last Week?
The past 7 days have been quite eventful. I helped my daughter move out of her dorm, attended our youngest daughter's dance concert, played with my grandchildren while their mother fixed me a heavenly early birthday breakfast (Like that was real hard!), celebrated my birthday and Mother's Day, received a new church calling (After a 16 year absense I am back in Primary--as a counselor in the presidency--I hope I still have what it takes-- I don't know if I do but if I have faith then Heavenly Father will help me find what I need--I will probably be writing more about this later), and drove with my family to move our college age daughter to Arizona for her Summer job.
Having a birthday the same day as Mother's Day shouldn't be that big of a deal but it has never set well with my selfish side. I decided ahead of time that I could choose to feel old and guilty on this 2-in1 eventful day ( I could have received black balloons for two decades now--and there is the usual Mother's Day dose of guilt) or youthful and grateful. I think receiving a new church calling the same day as the two big celebrations was indeed a blessing. It helped me opt for the youthful and grateful path and I had a lovely day. My day was made more lovely by the fact that my son called to wish me a Happy Birthday/Mother's Day. I haven't heard from him, other than one brief text, in months. I found out later that my youngest daughter had reminded him of what day it was but the call still meant a lot to me. (I really appreciated the fact that my daughter cared enough to remind her brother--double treat) The day was also delightful because I got to share the celebration with my oldest daughter who is a wonderful mother to my grandchildren and my husband's mother who is definitely high on my list of reasons why I am glad I married my husband. My husband and two youngest daughters took care of dinner and cleaning up. I ate too much but life was good...
Our trip to Arizona was quick and tiring but enjoyable. Driving is good thinking time. I found it interesting what kinds of things brought a smile to my face as the miles added up. I smiled as I saw a very long freight train in the distance. It had three engines. Perhaps I smiled because I have always felt strangely proud of the fact that as a teenager my father hopped freight trains to make his way to California from Texas. That always sounded so adventurous! Another possible reason for smiling at a passing train were happy memories of counting train cars as a kid and waiting for the caboose so I could wave at the men inside. I guess children (and some adults) take pleasure in waving to passing strangers and having them wave back because it is kind of like hopping trains and traveling to unknown places. When we connect for a moment in time with a stranger or fellow traveler in life's journey we move beyond our small worlds... Seeing baby cows made me smile too. I know the correct term is calves but that reminds me of legs so I prefer baby cows. They are so cute. They don't lumber along like their mothers but they kind of skip. They don't just stand in the sunshine, they frolic. I guess my fondness for baby cows explains why I refuse to eat veal but I am okay with other kinds of beef. Anyway... I also smiled while listening to my husband and daughter in the back seat singing along with classic rock songs from the 70s. They did quite the rousing duet on Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. My youngest daughter was driving at the time and she is not at all a fan of classic rock and even less a fan of her dad and sister singing along with it. However, a few times I could see just a hint of a smile creep into her look of disgust.
Driving is like a narcotic to me. It is very hard for me to stay awake while driving for long distances (Long meaning anything over about 20 miles) so thankfully my husband is much better at staying awake. I do my best to try and make sure he stays awake and I use this important duty as an excuse to consume way too much sugar on road trips. I still spend a fair amount of time dozing. It was kind of scary at one point to wake up to my husband and daughter in the back seat loudly telling my youngest daughter to get back on the road. They had her hook up some cable for an Ipod so she veered a little and came close to going off the road into the gravel. I couldn't really say much because my husband had just reminded me that I needed to stop distracting my daughter by pointing things out to her. I do that to my husband all the time. What can I say, I just like to share what I see...It was amazing that I fell asleep with my daughter at the wheel. Usually having one of my teenage children drive works much better than sugar at keeping me wide awake.
We got to help move my daughter's stuff into her dorm. I told her it was appropriate that we had listened to music from Newsies on the way because that is what her dorm reminded me of---Newsie or orphan accomodations---but clean and cozy in a way---a long narrow room with a row of bunk beds on each side. Each girl gets a bed, 3 drawers and about 18 inches of closet space to call her own. There are showers and bathrooms and an open area with mirrors and sinks. There is also a rec room downstairs. I admire my daughter's courage and sense of adventure. She feels like this is where she is supposed to be right now and I feel that way too. She will get to meet lots of people from all over and she will get to learn about different cultures and about waitressing and selling tourists treasures in gift shops. I didn't get a chance to give her a little motherly advice...I was going to remind her of something my husband has taught me, that if you face things that are difficult it is much better to think of them as challenges and even better to think of them as adventures. People don't sign up for problems but they are up for a good challenge and they even pay good money for adventures! I can hardly wait to hear all about my daughter's summer freight train hopping. Her younger sister decided that the whole thing looked like being at camp for 3 months. That idea was distasteful and disturbing to my baby who is quite the homebody and not very appealing to my oldest daughter who is adventurous but highly values personal space and comforts of home. (My son, who once lived in a cave, would probably relish the idea of some real freight train hopping) I have often referred to my middle daughter as my gypsy child. When she was younger she always enjoyed playing at her friends' houses and she has always wanted to explore what the world has to offer outside of her home state. She is in for quite the interesting summer.
We spent the night at our daughter's new home away from home (with tourist not orphan accomodations) and woke up to a few snow flurries. By the time we were sitting at the counter in the coffee shop eating breakfast the flurries had turned into a major freakish spring snowstorm.
A young man with his belongings on his back came in from the cold and another patron told him to 'have himself some breakfast'. The young man was visibly grateful for the generous offer and sat down a couple of seats away from us. We talked about the weather and he said he had been hitchhiking for a month. He had started out in Pennsylvannia and didn't seem to have any long range plans beyond going somewhere warm. He asked what day it was and exclaimed with surprise that it was his 19th birthday. I wished him a happy birthday but after we ate I felt an impression that I should do something more for him. My husband went along with my gesture. He frequently will indulge my impulses but sometimes he just hopes they pass without causing too much trouble or embarrassment. My youngest daughter helped me pick out a t-shirt in the same gift shop my other daughter would be working in in a few minutes and I wrote a brief note on a card. (While we did that I heard him telling the waitress it was his birthday and another employee gave him a bag of cookies from the bakery) My daughter and husband hung back while I presented the hasty gift to the young man. He seemed surprised but grateful. A few words passed between us and then our family headed out the door to brave the storm and head for home. I had already given my daughter a good-bye hug but she came out to say one last good-bye while her dad was cleaning snow off the car. It was snowing so hard that I didn't notice her until she was hurrying back inside the lodge so I got out of the car and called, "Good-bye, I love you." Some man getting into a big truck called back, "I love you too!" I chuckled as I got back in the car. It occurred to me as we were heading down to lower elevations that maybe it wasn't really that young man's birthday. Maybe he used that ploy to get people to give him stuff. I hoped if he wasn't telling the truth that maybe the kindnesses he was shown would at least prick his heart a little. I refused to feel bad about my decision. If he was telling the truth then he knows there is goodness in the world. If he was lying he still knows there is goodness in the world and someday he might feel sorry for lying but I, on the other hand, most likely will not feel sorry for making a gesture of kindness.
Note: It would be easier and less confusing to use the names of my children and grandchildren in these posts but I am not very blog- savvy so I am paranoid about giving out too much info. Maybe I'll make up some names...that sounds fun.
Go find some freight trains to hop. Enjoy!
Having a birthday the same day as Mother's Day shouldn't be that big of a deal but it has never set well with my selfish side. I decided ahead of time that I could choose to feel old and guilty on this 2-in1 eventful day ( I could have received black balloons for two decades now--and there is the usual Mother's Day dose of guilt) or youthful and grateful. I think receiving a new church calling the same day as the two big celebrations was indeed a blessing. It helped me opt for the youthful and grateful path and I had a lovely day. My day was made more lovely by the fact that my son called to wish me a Happy Birthday/Mother's Day. I haven't heard from him, other than one brief text, in months. I found out later that my youngest daughter had reminded him of what day it was but the call still meant a lot to me. (I really appreciated the fact that my daughter cared enough to remind her brother--double treat) The day was also delightful because I got to share the celebration with my oldest daughter who is a wonderful mother to my grandchildren and my husband's mother who is definitely high on my list of reasons why I am glad I married my husband. My husband and two youngest daughters took care of dinner and cleaning up. I ate too much but life was good...
Our trip to Arizona was quick and tiring but enjoyable. Driving is good thinking time. I found it interesting what kinds of things brought a smile to my face as the miles added up. I smiled as I saw a very long freight train in the distance. It had three engines. Perhaps I smiled because I have always felt strangely proud of the fact that as a teenager my father hopped freight trains to make his way to California from Texas. That always sounded so adventurous! Another possible reason for smiling at a passing train were happy memories of counting train cars as a kid and waiting for the caboose so I could wave at the men inside. I guess children (and some adults) take pleasure in waving to passing strangers and having them wave back because it is kind of like hopping trains and traveling to unknown places. When we connect for a moment in time with a stranger or fellow traveler in life's journey we move beyond our small worlds... Seeing baby cows made me smile too. I know the correct term is calves but that reminds me of legs so I prefer baby cows. They are so cute. They don't lumber along like their mothers but they kind of skip. They don't just stand in the sunshine, they frolic. I guess my fondness for baby cows explains why I refuse to eat veal but I am okay with other kinds of beef. Anyway... I also smiled while listening to my husband and daughter in the back seat singing along with classic rock songs from the 70s. They did quite the rousing duet on Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. My youngest daughter was driving at the time and she is not at all a fan of classic rock and even less a fan of her dad and sister singing along with it. However, a few times I could see just a hint of a smile creep into her look of disgust.
Driving is like a narcotic to me. It is very hard for me to stay awake while driving for long distances (Long meaning anything over about 20 miles) so thankfully my husband is much better at staying awake. I do my best to try and make sure he stays awake and I use this important duty as an excuse to consume way too much sugar on road trips. I still spend a fair amount of time dozing. It was kind of scary at one point to wake up to my husband and daughter in the back seat loudly telling my youngest daughter to get back on the road. They had her hook up some cable for an Ipod so she veered a little and came close to going off the road into the gravel. I couldn't really say much because my husband had just reminded me that I needed to stop distracting my daughter by pointing things out to her. I do that to my husband all the time. What can I say, I just like to share what I see...It was amazing that I fell asleep with my daughter at the wheel. Usually having one of my teenage children drive works much better than sugar at keeping me wide awake.
We got to help move my daughter's stuff into her dorm. I told her it was appropriate that we had listened to music from Newsies on the way because that is what her dorm reminded me of---Newsie or orphan accomodations---but clean and cozy in a way---a long narrow room with a row of bunk beds on each side. Each girl gets a bed, 3 drawers and about 18 inches of closet space to call her own. There are showers and bathrooms and an open area with mirrors and sinks. There is also a rec room downstairs. I admire my daughter's courage and sense of adventure. She feels like this is where she is supposed to be right now and I feel that way too. She will get to meet lots of people from all over and she will get to learn about different cultures and about waitressing and selling tourists treasures in gift shops. I didn't get a chance to give her a little motherly advice...I was going to remind her of something my husband has taught me, that if you face things that are difficult it is much better to think of them as challenges and even better to think of them as adventures. People don't sign up for problems but they are up for a good challenge and they even pay good money for adventures! I can hardly wait to hear all about my daughter's summer freight train hopping. Her younger sister decided that the whole thing looked like being at camp for 3 months. That idea was distasteful and disturbing to my baby who is quite the homebody and not very appealing to my oldest daughter who is adventurous but highly values personal space and comforts of home. (My son, who once lived in a cave, would probably relish the idea of some real freight train hopping) I have often referred to my middle daughter as my gypsy child. When she was younger she always enjoyed playing at her friends' houses and she has always wanted to explore what the world has to offer outside of her home state. She is in for quite the interesting summer.
We spent the night at our daughter's new home away from home (with tourist not orphan accomodations) and woke up to a few snow flurries. By the time we were sitting at the counter in the coffee shop eating breakfast the flurries had turned into a major freakish spring snowstorm.
A young man with his belongings on his back came in from the cold and another patron told him to 'have himself some breakfast'. The young man was visibly grateful for the generous offer and sat down a couple of seats away from us. We talked about the weather and he said he had been hitchhiking for a month. He had started out in Pennsylvannia and didn't seem to have any long range plans beyond going somewhere warm. He asked what day it was and exclaimed with surprise that it was his 19th birthday. I wished him a happy birthday but after we ate I felt an impression that I should do something more for him. My husband went along with my gesture. He frequently will indulge my impulses but sometimes he just hopes they pass without causing too much trouble or embarrassment. My youngest daughter helped me pick out a t-shirt in the same gift shop my other daughter would be working in in a few minutes and I wrote a brief note on a card. (While we did that I heard him telling the waitress it was his birthday and another employee gave him a bag of cookies from the bakery) My daughter and husband hung back while I presented the hasty gift to the young man. He seemed surprised but grateful. A few words passed between us and then our family headed out the door to brave the storm and head for home. I had already given my daughter a good-bye hug but she came out to say one last good-bye while her dad was cleaning snow off the car. It was snowing so hard that I didn't notice her until she was hurrying back inside the lodge so I got out of the car and called, "Good-bye, I love you." Some man getting into a big truck called back, "I love you too!" I chuckled as I got back in the car. It occurred to me as we were heading down to lower elevations that maybe it wasn't really that young man's birthday. Maybe he used that ploy to get people to give him stuff. I hoped if he wasn't telling the truth that maybe the kindnesses he was shown would at least prick his heart a little. I refused to feel bad about my decision. If he was telling the truth then he knows there is goodness in the world. If he was lying he still knows there is goodness in the world and someday he might feel sorry for lying but I, on the other hand, most likely will not feel sorry for making a gesture of kindness.
Note: It would be easier and less confusing to use the names of my children and grandchildren in these posts but I am not very blog- savvy so I am paranoid about giving out too much info. Maybe I'll make up some names...that sounds fun.
Go find some freight trains to hop. Enjoy!
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Motherhood Part 2---The Bright Side
Happy Mother's Day! I thought I had better write while it was still Mother's Day and I couldn't leave you with nothing but the dark side...
Most women who aren't fond of Mother's Day have their reasons. Some women would love to be mothers but aren't. Some women grieve for a child they have had and held and lost. Some women would love to share the day with their mothers but can't. Some women don't feel deserving of all the attention because they don't think of themselves as being good mothers. Other women feel pressured by the accolades. And there are some women who try to be good mothers but feel left out of the celebration because they feel like their families don't notice or care.
I guess the reasons for not liking Mother's day could be condensed into three main areas; having empty spots in the heart, having unreasonably high expectations, and failing to see a cause for celebration.
Have you ever noticed how heavy an empty heart feels? That's because it isn't empty but it's filled with the wrong stuff. In the Sermon on the Mount our Savior says Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Righteousness is goodness. If we seek to be filled with goodness then the grief and pain and loneliness will have less space in our hearts.
I saw a cute Mother's Day card that said something like, 'Behind every good kid is a mother who thinks she is doing a lousy job'. Like other mothers I have my share of regrets---things I wish I would have done differently in raising my children. But Heavenly Father gave me a happy thought. When we look back we tend to judge ourselves by what we know now. I like to think that most of the time we did the best we could according to what we knew and felt at the time.
{Advice for new mothers: Do all you can to minimize regrets. Your children will grow up faster than you can imagine. Don't put off enjoying them.} We should all strive to do better but we should give ourselves credit for trying to be good mothers. It is good to expect the best from our families but it is important to give them credit for trying too. We need to remember that the fruit of our labors needs to ripen for awhile before we can taste of its sweetness.
Do you ever notice how women tell everyone not to go to a lot of bother or make a big fuss but then they cry when people honor their wishes. I can see where Mother's Day can be like a test with trick questions for our husbands and children. We really need to make it an open book test and be easier on our grading. Sometimes our families aren't that good at pampering but they excel in other areas. We need to look for what they do right. Mother's Day is a good opportunity to show appreciation for mothers and for the divine mothering qualities in women, but all appreciation should not be reserved for that one day. Talk about unrealistic expectations.
Little children are very good at reminding us of the best gifts. All the impressive gifts in the glossy newspaper ads pale in comparison to dandelions clutched in chubby little hands and funny stick figure pictures signed with I Love You in scrawling crayon letters. Little notes of appreciation are cherished and read again and again. A Mother's Day that shines in my memory is one where all four of my children worked together on a special breakfast for me. My oldest daughter did most of the cooking, my younger daughters made decorations and a menu and my son very nicely acted as my waiter. The whole thing was an idea that my son had gotten from a story in The Friend magazine. I couldn't have felt more pampered had I eaten an extravagant buffet in an upscale restaurant or felt more truly loved than I did sitting at my breakfast table that morning being served by my sweet children. There is cause to celebrate in shy hugs, loving glances, awkward words of gratitude, sleepy heads resting on your shoulder, burnt toast and soggy pancakes, and flowers that are really weeds. Motherhood can be a thankless job but usually only if we let it.
When my kids were younger it seemed that they were always extra difficult on Mother's Day and I was extra grumpy. I would go to church after yelling at my children and listen to talks about how wonderful other mothers were. I would look around and feel like all the other women were wearing corsages but me (In reality maybe 3 or 4)---they had evidence of their husbands' admiration pinned like medals on their chests. After the talks made me feel heavy with guilt and shame I would have to stand up and wait for a prize I felt I didn't deserve---a flower that dared me to keep it alive. But I would take home the flower and do what? I would try and nurture it and help it to grow because I am a mother and that is what I do.
Hooray! Today in our ward all women over 18 got fudge brownies. The only thing better would have been a spare pair of pantihose!
Celebrate today and tomorrow and the next day. Let's bring motherhood out into the light where it belongs.
Most women who aren't fond of Mother's Day have their reasons. Some women would love to be mothers but aren't. Some women grieve for a child they have had and held and lost. Some women would love to share the day with their mothers but can't. Some women don't feel deserving of all the attention because they don't think of themselves as being good mothers. Other women feel pressured by the accolades. And there are some women who try to be good mothers but feel left out of the celebration because they feel like their families don't notice or care.
I guess the reasons for not liking Mother's day could be condensed into three main areas; having empty spots in the heart, having unreasonably high expectations, and failing to see a cause for celebration.
Have you ever noticed how heavy an empty heart feels? That's because it isn't empty but it's filled with the wrong stuff. In the Sermon on the Mount our Savior says Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Righteousness is goodness. If we seek to be filled with goodness then the grief and pain and loneliness will have less space in our hearts.
I saw a cute Mother's Day card that said something like, 'Behind every good kid is a mother who thinks she is doing a lousy job'. Like other mothers I have my share of regrets---things I wish I would have done differently in raising my children. But Heavenly Father gave me a happy thought. When we look back we tend to judge ourselves by what we know now. I like to think that most of the time we did the best we could according to what we knew and felt at the time.
{Advice for new mothers: Do all you can to minimize regrets. Your children will grow up faster than you can imagine. Don't put off enjoying them.} We should all strive to do better but we should give ourselves credit for trying to be good mothers. It is good to expect the best from our families but it is important to give them credit for trying too. We need to remember that the fruit of our labors needs to ripen for awhile before we can taste of its sweetness.
Do you ever notice how women tell everyone not to go to a lot of bother or make a big fuss but then they cry when people honor their wishes. I can see where Mother's Day can be like a test with trick questions for our husbands and children. We really need to make it an open book test and be easier on our grading. Sometimes our families aren't that good at pampering but they excel in other areas. We need to look for what they do right. Mother's Day is a good opportunity to show appreciation for mothers and for the divine mothering qualities in women, but all appreciation should not be reserved for that one day. Talk about unrealistic expectations.
Little children are very good at reminding us of the best gifts. All the impressive gifts in the glossy newspaper ads pale in comparison to dandelions clutched in chubby little hands and funny stick figure pictures signed with I Love You in scrawling crayon letters. Little notes of appreciation are cherished and read again and again. A Mother's Day that shines in my memory is one where all four of my children worked together on a special breakfast for me. My oldest daughter did most of the cooking, my younger daughters made decorations and a menu and my son very nicely acted as my waiter. The whole thing was an idea that my son had gotten from a story in The Friend magazine. I couldn't have felt more pampered had I eaten an extravagant buffet in an upscale restaurant or felt more truly loved than I did sitting at my breakfast table that morning being served by my sweet children. There is cause to celebrate in shy hugs, loving glances, awkward words of gratitude, sleepy heads resting on your shoulder, burnt toast and soggy pancakes, and flowers that are really weeds. Motherhood can be a thankless job but usually only if we let it.
When my kids were younger it seemed that they were always extra difficult on Mother's Day and I was extra grumpy. I would go to church after yelling at my children and listen to talks about how wonderful other mothers were. I would look around and feel like all the other women were wearing corsages but me (In reality maybe 3 or 4)---they had evidence of their husbands' admiration pinned like medals on their chests. After the talks made me feel heavy with guilt and shame I would have to stand up and wait for a prize I felt I didn't deserve---a flower that dared me to keep it alive. But I would take home the flower and do what? I would try and nurture it and help it to grow because I am a mother and that is what I do.
Hooray! Today in our ward all women over 18 got fudge brownies. The only thing better would have been a spare pair of pantihose!
Celebrate today and tomorrow and the next day. Let's bring motherhood out into the light where it belongs.
Motherhood Part 1---The Dark Side
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. That gives some women a day to look forward to and others a day to dread. I have heard quite a few women express their strong dislike for Mother's Day. Some even say they hate it. This negative attitude toward a day to celebrate mothers combined in my mind with lots of ads I have seen lately for the perfect gifts for mom and this is what happened...
Warning! The following will come across as quite negative but there will be a positive turn in part two. Stay with me now...
(Told from an everymother point of view)
Dear People Shopping for Mother's Day gifts,
Hear are a few suggestions---
Jewelry's always nice. How about a #1Mom pin to make me laugh or make me cry if other people laugh when I wear it.
Some chocolate would be really sweet. Just be sure to include a set of scales that always show 125 pounds no matter how much chocolate I consume---or you could get me a cute jogging outfit but be careful with that one---even on high doses of chocolate I can be sensitive and slightly paranoid.
Perfume would be great to hide the smell of baby throwup on those days I don't get time to shower. (Because the baby's sick and throwing up)
Flowers would be greatly appreciated in case I don't get around to planting any and I could relate to them when they wilt.
A pretty scarf would be just the thing to cover the increasing number of creases in my neck.
A gliding rocker would help me get the baby to sleep and maybe relax me after the baby's in bed and I can't sleep.
A handbag would be great---but get a big one---one that's large enough for me to carry around all my guilt---better yet, a carry on with wheels would probably be easier on my back.
Some new cookware would be nice with a large pot that I could use for stew. I'm good at stewing...bakeware would be good too---I could whip up a batch of worries in no time and serve them with a generous helping of regret.
How about a watch? You could get me a magnetic to-do list to go with it so I could be reminded of how much I have to do and how little time I have to do it.
Or maybe you could give me a coupon for a free massage---It can be a real pain in the neck carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders...
Maybe the best idea of all would be an elegantly decorated stick to beat myself with...
Warning! The following will come across as quite negative but there will be a positive turn in part two. Stay with me now...
(Told from an everymother point of view)
Dear People Shopping for Mother's Day gifts,
Hear are a few suggestions---
Jewelry's always nice. How about a #1Mom pin to make me laugh or make me cry if other people laugh when I wear it.
Some chocolate would be really sweet. Just be sure to include a set of scales that always show 125 pounds no matter how much chocolate I consume---or you could get me a cute jogging outfit but be careful with that one---even on high doses of chocolate I can be sensitive and slightly paranoid.
Perfume would be great to hide the smell of baby throwup on those days I don't get time to shower. (Because the baby's sick and throwing up)
Flowers would be greatly appreciated in case I don't get around to planting any and I could relate to them when they wilt.
A pretty scarf would be just the thing to cover the increasing number of creases in my neck.
A gliding rocker would help me get the baby to sleep and maybe relax me after the baby's in bed and I can't sleep.
A handbag would be great---but get a big one---one that's large enough for me to carry around all my guilt---better yet, a carry on with wheels would probably be easier on my back.
Some new cookware would be nice with a large pot that I could use for stew. I'm good at stewing...bakeware would be good too---I could whip up a batch of worries in no time and serve them with a generous helping of regret.
How about a watch? You could get me a magnetic to-do list to go with it so I could be reminded of how much I have to do and how little time I have to do it.
Or maybe you could give me a coupon for a free massage---It can be a real pain in the neck carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders...
Maybe the best idea of all would be an elegantly decorated stick to beat myself with...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Pantyhose Hit A Few Snags and other no-nonsense ideas
Why were pantyhose invented by a man and why do they share a name with something used to water your garden or put out fires? Who decided to call the largest size Queen Size and who decided that taupe and beige mist were good leg colors?
Just curious.
When I was about 13 I underwent a rite of passage---an initiation into womanhood---I got to wear nylon stockings to church---Not pantyhose but the kind of hose you attach to a funny looking contraption called a garter belt. This was in the early 70s so I don't know why my mother started me out with a garter belt---that's probably how she entered the world of womanly attire---I don't even know if my mother had made the leap to pantyhose at that time. Anyway...I was positively thrilled to graduate from knee socks. I felt so utterly grown up, so womanly---a bit like I had webbed feet and a second skin that fit quite snug but womanly nonetheless.
My least favorite thing about pantyhose when I was young and skinny was that they would sag around my ankles (anyone remember the elephant legs commercial?) I should have been used to that after years of pulling up sagging knee socks or tugging on anklets (ankle socks for you younger readers) that had been partially eaten into a wad by my shoes. The sagging problem stopped being an issue as pantyhose became new and improved and as I developed more of me to hold them up all the way. Having long legs I have also always had the problem of pantyhose not being long enough. Sometimes the crotch will come halfway down to my knees and I will have to do some ballet moves while pulling up on the waist in order to get the pantyhose to live up to their name. (Stretching them before putting them on is helpful--kind of like stretching a balloon before blowing it up) There should be a diagram of those moves included in each pantyhose package. Low rider pantyhose are not comfortable and do not encourage ladylike walking, or walking at all.
Many women can barely tolerate pantyhose. I have gotten used to them and do not mind them so much. My main problem is that I go through a pair a week sometimes. My feet would make great subjects for before shots for pedicures and I go without shoes frequently while wearing my pantyhose so I get holes and runs in the feet. The previously mentioned ballet moves also contribute their share of runs and snags. If I wrote a book on tips on being womanly (my only qualification for that would be the fact that I am a woman---I could still use some tips myself) it would include how to twist your pantyhose while wearing them so that you can move a run from the outside of your leg to the less-noticeable inside. I wish pantyhose came in large rolls like plastic garbage bags and I could just tear off a new pair each week. How do we go about starting a recycling program for pantyhose? They would be kind of cute with a PETE # on the bottom of the foot. Wouldn't women rush to buy pajamas or t-shirts made out of recycled pantyhose? They could even be sold in cute little pouches...Well maybe not.
I guess it is appropriate somehow that a man invented pantyhose since historically men were the main wearers of tights and leg coverings before they became popular for women. Now when women complain about wearing pantyhose(they are so much better than garter belts ladies) men always have a counter complaint with neckties. I wouldn't want to wear a tie but at least ties can be loosened which is not the case with pantyhose. What if someone invented a type of pantyhose that worked kind of like a blood pressure cuff...on days you're feeling a little puffy you could tighten them and when you want to relax you could loosen them just a bit. Of course they would need to not make the same sound of a blood pressure cuff and they couldn't tighten that much or people would wonder what was up with your popping eyes and bulging veins. It's probably best to keep pantyhose low tech.
The name pantyhose simply means nylon hose with a panty attached. Hosen means leg covering but I can't come up with a sensible way to connect that to garden hose or fire hose. As for the shades of pantyhose I have become quite fond of beige mist. Suntan always makes me look like all of the color in my body has drained into my legs. I have gotten queen size for quite some time because they are usually long enough and they don't make me feel shrink-wrapped. I do giggle when I see the Queen 2 size because it makes me think of the QE2 cruise ship---now that's an impressive size! (Please don't be offended if you wear that size---we all try to limit the number of plies we have to do to get pantyhose up to our waists) It is probably a good thing that the smallest sizes aren't called Peasant Size.
I probably should invest in the department store variety instead of grabbing a pair with my groceries but from past experience they don't last me that much longer----just like I won't invest more than $10 on sunglasses because I either sit on them or lose them. I am really thankful for pantyhose. After all, they keep me feeling tucked-in and they provide some nice covering for my spidery veins, not to mention my white legs---which aren't a porcelain white but more of a white fish on the beach white. I really do think a roll of pantyhose is a great idea...but then would they be sized by gallons?
Just curious.
When I was about 13 I underwent a rite of passage---an initiation into womanhood---I got to wear nylon stockings to church---Not pantyhose but the kind of hose you attach to a funny looking contraption called a garter belt. This was in the early 70s so I don't know why my mother started me out with a garter belt---that's probably how she entered the world of womanly attire---I don't even know if my mother had made the leap to pantyhose at that time. Anyway...I was positively thrilled to graduate from knee socks. I felt so utterly grown up, so womanly---a bit like I had webbed feet and a second skin that fit quite snug but womanly nonetheless.
My least favorite thing about pantyhose when I was young and skinny was that they would sag around my ankles (anyone remember the elephant legs commercial?) I should have been used to that after years of pulling up sagging knee socks or tugging on anklets (ankle socks for you younger readers) that had been partially eaten into a wad by my shoes. The sagging problem stopped being an issue as pantyhose became new and improved and as I developed more of me to hold them up all the way. Having long legs I have also always had the problem of pantyhose not being long enough. Sometimes the crotch will come halfway down to my knees and I will have to do some ballet moves while pulling up on the waist in order to get the pantyhose to live up to their name. (Stretching them before putting them on is helpful--kind of like stretching a balloon before blowing it up) There should be a diagram of those moves included in each pantyhose package. Low rider pantyhose are not comfortable and do not encourage ladylike walking, or walking at all.
Many women can barely tolerate pantyhose. I have gotten used to them and do not mind them so much. My main problem is that I go through a pair a week sometimes. My feet would make great subjects for before shots for pedicures and I go without shoes frequently while wearing my pantyhose so I get holes and runs in the feet. The previously mentioned ballet moves also contribute their share of runs and snags. If I wrote a book on tips on being womanly (my only qualification for that would be the fact that I am a woman---I could still use some tips myself) it would include how to twist your pantyhose while wearing them so that you can move a run from the outside of your leg to the less-noticeable inside. I wish pantyhose came in large rolls like plastic garbage bags and I could just tear off a new pair each week. How do we go about starting a recycling program for pantyhose? They would be kind of cute with a PETE # on the bottom of the foot. Wouldn't women rush to buy pajamas or t-shirts made out of recycled pantyhose? They could even be sold in cute little pouches...Well maybe not.
I guess it is appropriate somehow that a man invented pantyhose since historically men were the main wearers of tights and leg coverings before they became popular for women. Now when women complain about wearing pantyhose(they are so much better than garter belts ladies) men always have a counter complaint with neckties. I wouldn't want to wear a tie but at least ties can be loosened which is not the case with pantyhose. What if someone invented a type of pantyhose that worked kind of like a blood pressure cuff...on days you're feeling a little puffy you could tighten them and when you want to relax you could loosen them just a bit. Of course they would need to not make the same sound of a blood pressure cuff and they couldn't tighten that much or people would wonder what was up with your popping eyes and bulging veins. It's probably best to keep pantyhose low tech.
The name pantyhose simply means nylon hose with a panty attached. Hosen means leg covering but I can't come up with a sensible way to connect that to garden hose or fire hose. As for the shades of pantyhose I have become quite fond of beige mist. Suntan always makes me look like all of the color in my body has drained into my legs. I have gotten queen size for quite some time because they are usually long enough and they don't make me feel shrink-wrapped. I do giggle when I see the Queen 2 size because it makes me think of the QE2 cruise ship---now that's an impressive size! (Please don't be offended if you wear that size---we all try to limit the number of plies we have to do to get pantyhose up to our waists) It is probably a good thing that the smallest sizes aren't called Peasant Size.
I probably should invest in the department store variety instead of grabbing a pair with my groceries but from past experience they don't last me that much longer----just like I won't invest more than $10 on sunglasses because I either sit on them or lose them. I am really thankful for pantyhose. After all, they keep me feeling tucked-in and they provide some nice covering for my spidery veins, not to mention my white legs---which aren't a porcelain white but more of a white fish on the beach white. I really do think a roll of pantyhose is a great idea...but then would they be sized by gallons?
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