Of arms and marriages

My physical therapist sent me home with two sheets of exercises I’m supposed to do three to five times a day.  I hate that it’s come to this.  But it’s my new reality for awhile.  (They say 1-3 years.)  I’ve thought about my frozen shoulder and how gradually it came on.  Looking back I suppose I should’ve known what to look for.  I should’ve been researching side effects of node removal or mastectomy on the internet.  Or asked my doctors if I should be aware of anything post-surgery.  Or read the little words on all the papers they sent home with me.  But that’s all so not like me.  I just shoved all that stuff in my cancer file and figured if I noticed anything weird then I’d deal with it later.  No sense looking for trouble.  And so as my arm started bothering me I guessed I’d just slept on it funny.  That I’d tweaked it somehow.  So I babied it and took it out of commission as much as possible for several weeks.  But it got worse and shooting pain would paralyze me for a minute or two and tears would leap to my eyes out of nowhere.  As it became more difficult to ignore, I surrendered and went in.  X-rays, physical therapy, massage ensued. A little exercise routine that makes me feel like an old lady.  It’s been months already.  Acupuncture starts next month.

But as I’ve been tending to my arm, it occurred to me that I’ve experienced this all before.  Not physically, but in my marriage.  And it seems that if we think about it enough, maybe we’ve all been there.  Maybe not in your marriage, but maybe another relationship or some other part of life.  You never saw it coming, you have no idea how you got here, but out of nowhere you’re in some deserted land that wasn’t even on the map.  And you’re not really sure how to get back.

Most of our friends took a similar path as us as we pursued post-graduate work.  It was awesome, loved it.  The midwest enthralled me.  The people were warm, we made sweet friends, we hiked and camped and visited every small town we could.  We loved the antiques, the covered bridges, the fall festivals, the Amish, the state parks.  It was a great, great four years.  But also hard.  Because, you know how it is, you rarely see each other.  We worked.  We had church commitments.  We were just learning to be parents.  We had no family around for hundreds of miles.  He was at school all day and most evenings.  The last year he had rotations and I felt like I never saw him.  (I loved how he got the equine rotation right at foaling time.)  We had dinner together and spent Saturday and Sunday together when we could, but it was still tough.  And that’s life.  But I wasn’t used to it, I didn’t realize how hard it would be on me.  And our marriage.

I remember arriving at the point but not knowing how I’d gotten there.  But one dark night I admitted to myself that I felt completely apathetic about our marriage.  I felt alone.  I didn’t have any fight left in me.  I didn’t really care any more if he was home or gone.  It didn’t seem to matter any way because there was nothing I felt I could do.  I simply let go.

Nothing in my life has scared me as much.  

Kind of the wake-up call you get when you’re driving along the highway late at night and catch yourself falling asleep at the wheel.  This was mine.  I realized I had a choice, I was at a junction.  I could continue to coast.  Or wake up and make some changes.

Just like with my arm, I finally acknowledged things wouldn’t just get better without some intervention.  It’s been forever, so I don’t remember the details.  I just remember deciding.  Sometimes that’s all it takes.  At least that’s where it always starts.  Because of this experience, I’m forever looking at the fork in the road now.  The pivotal moments when a decision will take you one way or another.  And I’m always looking ahead to see where I’ll end up if I take one path versus another.  Some things don’t matter much to me.  But I’m all in when it’s the big stuff. I’m not willing to let my kids or my husband or convictions get away from me.  Way too much at stake.  I think this was the first time when I could see that our little fishing boat had become untied from the dock and that it was slowly inching its way out.  Even though the waves were minimal, you know how water is and how, before you know it, you’re out of touch with your vessel.

Just because I noticed we were drifting doesn’t mean things got better right away.  But I remember we made the effort.  I remember reading and learning about marriage.  I tried to be more supportive as he carried such a heavy load.  Slowly it came together and we pulled it off.  And I’m forever grateful for this wake-up call.  As scary as it was, it’s stuck with me.  I realized then—and am constantly reminded—how precious our marriage is.  And our relationship with our kids.  And with God.  I’m reminded of how gradually these can all slip away from us if we aren’t tethered together.

This lesson poignantly came to mind as I realized my shoulder wasn’t healing on its own.  I had  to stop ignoring the pain.  I needed to acknowledge that things needed to change.  Just like before.  I’ve been looking into it, learning about it.  I’ve been diligent—but not perfect—with my exercises.  I forget to do some of the parts.  I don’t even know if it’s working.  This all sounds so familiar.  But I know eventually it will make a difference.  Because I’ve seen it all before.  Small investments of time doing my stretches and massages, hanging out at night together before turning in, making time for each other.  Consistently putting in the effort.  Even when we’re too tired for it all.  Kissing good night.  Long hugs.  Giving the benefit of the doubt.  Pushing myself even when it hurts and makes me tear up.  Love is like that.  It’s not always easy to be honest.  Or to apologize.  But we work through the painful parts because we’re committed.  We know it will all make us stronger.

I look forward to the day when I’ll realize I have my shoulder back.  When I can use all my weights the way I always have instead of sitting out some of the sets.  When I don’t feel pain when I turn a certain way by accident or shift in my sleep.  When I can tie my aprons and dresses behind my back.  And tuck in my shirts.  When I can move my arm in all directions again.  The pain and immobility will leave as it came.  So slowly I’ll hardly notice.  But I know the small, consistent efforts, the attention I’m giving it, will eventually pay off.  Because I’ve been here before.  The investment I’m making will be worth it, no matter how long it takes.  If it’s anything like my marriage, I won’t be able to pinpoint the day it healed; it will be so gradual.  I’ll just know it feels right. But if it’s anything like my marriage, I’ll never take it for granted again.

Getting results

As I was walking through the school parking lot this afternoon, arms laden with books, I couldn’t help myself.  This is a new school year, I told myself.  We can tweak things if we want, the perfect crook in the road to make changes.

I wondered if this was the year I’d finally become that kind of mom.  But nearly as soon as I’d asked myself, I knew my answer.  Not the answer, not probably the right answer.  But my answer.

I admit it.  I don’t make my kids practice the piano.  Or read.  I’ve never been the kind to work on their letters with them before they go to kindergarten or done a lot of flash cards or cared when they actually learned to read.  I don’t check on their homework status.  Or band practice charts.  I leave a lot up to them.  They know what they’re supposed to be doing.  Most of their school-related stuff is between them and their teachers; the saxophone and piano are between them and their instructors.  I bring it up now and then, but I wait for them to bring their practice sheets and reading logs and school planners to me to be signed, I’m not the kind of mom to ride them about things they can handle.  I’m more concerned that they’re making headway—not just in geometry but in life.

I guess my slant is a little non-traditional, certainly not one touted by educators and the kind of moms we love.  But I have learned that the best kind of mom is the one who uses her unique personality and strengths to mother—whatever that looks like.  I have learned that we are happier and more relaxed (and thus, better) moms when we lean on our own instincts.  When we are authentic.  And so, for me, that just translates into worrying less about results and more about what happens along the way.

I know that we’re a results-fueled society.  We compare and judge each other on the bottom line.  But I don’t know that that’s what I’m in it for.  

I don’t know that grades exactly offer a true representation of intelligence or how much a kid has learned or even effort exerted in some cases.  We all know how inflated grades can be (extra credit for bringing in treats?) and how they can’t possibly showcase all a kid has learned (maybe he has absorbed the concepts but is a poor test-taker?).  We’ve all had teachers who refuse to give A’s, whose reputations are legendary, whose classes we learned the most from and whom we hold in highest esteem.  I couldn’t care less if my kid gets a B in a class like that.  We always tell them to take honors classes whenever possible—even though it does little for their college application and might even hurt it when they get Bs instead of As—simply because it will be an enriching learning experience.

I don’t know that a kid who learns to read as a four-year-old is any better prepared for school than one who learns along the way in kindergarten (which in and of itself if astounding if you think back to what we were learning at that age).  I’d rather expose them to the library, let them choose their own books, read aloud a million picture books on everything from how they make crayons to the fairy tales we grew up with, Shel Silverstein to Percy Jackson.  Giving them nooks and crannies to curl up and read on a warm summer afternoon or snowy wintry night.  Showing them by example how much pleasure (and wisdom) you derive from reading a variety of genres and authors.  I’d rather that my kids have a passion for reading than an accelerated proficiency but who read only to tick another book off their list.

I don’t know that someone who memorizes lengthy scriptures and poems and documents is any better than one who has lived their teachings.  I’d rather have my kid wrap his heart around the meanings of great pieces of writing than to be able to quote them perfectly.  I know scriptorians who have no idea what charity or humility are all about.  And I know some of the sweetest, most tender—maybe even less educated—people who have no idea what the scripture references are or what the word sequence is in one they’re trying to recall, but who embody all the qualities we read about, who have imprinted these words on their hearts.  I know which kind of person I’d rather have my kids emulate.

We read The Battle Cry of the Tiger Mother in our book group awhile back.  While I certainly applaud her efforts and subsequent results, I can’t imagine having a mother-daughter relationship that is more about performance than closeness.  Her daughters certainly delivered, and perhaps that pay-off trumped everything anything else in their lives; but I’d rather have a warm, loving relationship with my daughter than to have her be a renowned concert pianist.  Some families strike the balance, they’re awesome. They have found the sweet spot where the parents are totally involved and oversee daily practice and kids still love their instruments and practice compliantly.  I’m just saying, if that’s not the case, at what cost are we making the instrument (or sport or grade, etc.) more important than the relationship?

I get it though, I do.  When we have put in the effort, we can play more flawlessly, perform confidently and with ease, quote at will, we have been reading years ahead of our peers and have a grand vocabulary and skill base.  But I guess I just have to ask myself, at what price, and is the end result really what we’re after?  Or is there something else?

To me, it’s more about a relationship than it is a destination.  A relationship with the piano and books and our bodies, with our families and friends, with God.

You know the people who are focused on getting married.  Instead of enjoying a variety of relationships in their young adult years, using the time to learn and grow, they’re intense and rigid, citing an engagement as their only goal.  Marriage comes naturally.  Or it doesn’t.  But it’s always better when it’s not forced.  Yes, you got your results.  But is a ring really all you’re after?  Wouldn’t you rather have developed a strong foundation of friendship and love that naturally evolves into a commitment?

Or parents who force religious compliance at the expense of the relationship.  They forget that God is love.  And agency.  That He always, always cares more about the relationship than the dos and don’ts.  Of course that’s not to minimize the commandments or rules in a family or anything like that.  Just that the most important commandments are about love.  A wise pattern to follow as parents.

A million other examples come to mind, especially as we raise our kids and maintain our homes.  In my mind it’s better to let the kids make their own beds—whatever that ends up looking like—than to go behind them (or worse, do it for them) to make sure there are no wrinkles, that the comforter is on squarely and pulled tight simply to impress company.  I’m not espousing an “everyone’s a winner” mentality or giving in to shoddy effort.  I just feel it’s better to let them load the dishwasher their way than to assure all the bowls are maximally spaced and so it looks good.  Giving them free reign in the kitchen to experiment and create is empowering—it’s never been about whether the cupcakes are beautiful or whether it can be done without a mess.  All that we’re doing in the home is really more about developing relationships and teaching than making it all look a certain way.  We’re teaching the reasons behind homemaking skills, why we believe in being tidy and orderly.  Which has nothing to do with showing off a beautiful house but is more about creating a climate that is nurturing and comforting, where we can feel the spirit of God soothing our souls.  We teach them skills in laundry and bathroom maintenance and cooking so that they can be self-sufficient, to build confidence, to let them feel the satisfaction of a job well done, to know they can do it.  We let them plant their own garden boxes of herbs and wildflowers, not simply to earn money or compare production to last year, but to provide a setting where we can spend time together.  Different from farmers who are really tied in to yields, our garden is more to teach the kids the law of the harvest, to teach them to work, to encourage healthy eating, to showcase God’s handiwork and miracles, to provide a sense of accomplishment as they sell their produce or turn it into salsa.  And when crops unfortunately fail, it’s always been more about the lessons and the process than the outcome. 

Even in business, where you’d think this philosophy wouldn’t apply, I see it working.  Think of the companies we love most like Nordstrom, Chick-fil-A, Ace Hardware, Starbucks, Costco (they’re all rated in the top 10 for customer service).  Granted, their bottom line is to make money (that’s what businesses are all about)—just as our goals are to have our kids excel in school and sports and music and life—but look at the way they go about it.  That’s what makes all the difference.  The way they do business feels softer, less cut-throat, less intense.  They have learned that when the relationship with the customer is their top priority—instead of money—business naturally follows.

Our instructor this summer—a long-distance runner—told our class about his experience with goals.  He had been wrapped up in his times, focusing solely on the outcome.  Deciding to switch things up, he kept his goal time to himself and instead use his race time differently.  His only “goals” were to thank every volunteer along the route and to notice three things to be grateful for throughout the course.  Instead of worrying so much about when he’d cross the line and what his numbers would be, he backed off and focused more on the journey and the relationships with the volunteers, nature, and himself.  His times naturally improved.  But his better race-times became a by-product and not his sole motivation.

I loved happening upon this thought as I was reading the other day, “The ultimate measure of success is not in achieving goals but in the service you render and the progress of others [and yourself].  Goals are [merely, I would add] a means of helping you bring about much good….” 

And I guess that’s my slant.  Not that we don’t set goals or strive for excellence.  Or teach our kids to give life their best effort or to work hard.   But rather to view success less in results and more in what they learned or felt or experienced along the way.  To see people and relationships and connections as the greatest of all successes.

*  Preach My Gospel, 146

A few of my favorite things

This started out as real items that I’ve bought and swear by.  But then it went a little past that, as my blog posts usually do.  Sorry it’s another list.  Bulleted items are easier this summer than analogies.  Again, another insight into a person; I encourage you to write a list for your own kids. By the way, I think a list like this is absolutely never done.  Every day I find another part of life that makes me happy, and I know you're exactly the same.

Yellow rubber gloves that fit just right.  I know how weird that sounds.  But I was cleaning the church bathroom and felt over the moon relieved that there was a substantial barrier between my skin and the residue of so many strangers.  I also love their protection especially in the winter months, when I’m home and making food more than usual, so many dishes and bouts with water.  Sore, cracked hands.  It’s a pleasure to have lotioned them and veil them in a shroud of rubber.  A bargain considering all the work I get out of them.  I buy them by the box at Costco.

Skinny rubber spatulas.  Perfect for tight jars, since you know how I hate to waste.  My favorites are the short tiny ones from Williams Sonoma.

Speaking of which, we love their winter dish soap.  Immensely.  It’s like a little walk in the forest every time we wash our dishes.

Brand new tight running socks.  Perfect for just-lotioned feet.  They feel massaged and coddled, cocooned and protected.

A first cold night with warmly dried flannel sheets.  And likewise, the freshly laundered summer variety—crisp and cool on the first hot night of the season.

The potted ivy in my kitchen window.  I’ve kept it alive for three years.  I know.

Todd dressed in his suit for church, smelling awesome.

Finally pj’d with brushed teeth, hunkered down with my Real Simple that just arrived that afternoon.

My shower towel warmed by the heating vent.

The smell of potpourri on the stove.  The kind with the orange and cloves and cinnamon simmering away on a fall afternoon.  I think I love that it not only smells fresh and homey, but also that it was essentially free and I know that it's not messing with my health, it's natural.

The satisfaction and the tired feeling of a really productive day.  They usually start early and with a plan.  Not all days need to be, but I love a great day of yard work and house work or just getting more done than I thought.

Cuddled up on the couch in late afternoon with a pillow and blanket and the breeze wafting over me and being woken by the kids coming home from school one by one.

A handwritten love note amid the bills and junk mail, not an obligatory thank you note, something just out of the blue, completely unexpected.  It rarely happens.  But it has.  And I love it so much.  It carries me for days.

Flowers on the table cut from our yard.   I love how cheerful they are.  And that they’re free.

Walking through Hobby Lobby and Michael’s and even Target’s holiday section starting at Halloween time.  I love the tiny house displays—I’d love to lift my kids to show them the moving parts.  I love the colors, the reminder of fall and winter holidays.  It’s as if all is right in the world when all we have to worry about is decorating for the next occasion.

Peanut butter and chocolate.  In just about anything.  Smoothies, candy, granola bars, ice cream.  I’m a sucker for it all.

The blue tube of $4 Cover Girl mascara that I’ve been using for years.  Holds up exceptionally well under teary conditions.  I hear.

Watching tv as a family, could be a church clip, stand up comedy, a Redbox movie or just re-runs of Little House or Brady Bunch that I’m trying to introduce to my kids.  Just a cozy, intimate time cuddled under fuzzy blankets with homemade popcorn.

New shoes.  If I was rich this is what I’d splurge on.  Good quality ones for every occasion.

My lettuce knife.  It is the color of lettuce—bright green—and plastic.  I know Pampered Chef sells them, but I got mine for $3.99.  It prevents lettuce from turning brown, it’s totally light-weight, and a gem!

The smell and feel of a brand new paperback.  Intoxicating.

Fruit salad.  If I was on a deserted island and could have only one food for the rest of my life, this would be it.  I have it breakfast, lunch, and dinner many, many days of my life.  Any combination, any size pieces.  Cool and refreshing with blasts of flavor of all kinds.  Love!!!

The swimsuit makeovers in Good Housekeeping and of course What Not to Wear.  I don’t know why.  I think because we all have flaws and I love how they can make everyone look good!

A new entry in the book Todd and I share with Bronwyn.  It goes back and forth between us each night with us writing questions and answers to each other.  I love her little messages to us!

Lunch at a park next to a river or creek or waterfall in the middle of a road trip.  Better than a nasty fast-food place for sure.  Peaceful, beautiful sounds.  I love the smell of pine trees and watching the critters around us.  I love that it’s healthier, cheaper, so very, very us.

A couple hours in the middle of the day to sit and write with no interruptions.

Seasonal paper napkins with pretty designs. Totally my mom’s daughter!!

Reading on the couch to my kids.  We’re in the middle of a chapter book, but we still do picture books.  They’re 10 and 12.  I’m holding out.  It’s probably the only thing I do as a mom than I’m 100% confident about, certain that I’m getting it right.

The Christmas issues of all my favorite magazines, a peek into dream world!

Lying on one of the kids’ beds in the middle of the day sort of resting, mostly just cuddling and talking.

Indulging in a movie just for me.  Doesn’t have to satisfy anyone else.  It can be cheesy, romantic, motivational, a documentary, it can scream my name and no one will judge me.

A new email in my in-box that isn’t about scheduling something or giving me an assignment.  An email where a friend or sister or kid shares what’s going on inside.  I love a conversation that goes back and forth throughout the day as we analyze life from a variety of angles.

Being invited to someone’s house.  For any reason.  Any occasion.  I love taking a night off.  I love not having to clean my own house.  I love the company.  Mostly I love that someone thought of us.  Even if we can’t go.  I love that someone made the effort.

Movie theater popcorn.  And everything about the whole movie theater experience.  It’s like $100 for our family to go, so it hardly ever happens.  But I LOVE it.

Watching romantic Christmas movies with the girls and knowing they’re crying too.

Falling asleep listening to Todd and the kids playing their game.  Especially on a holiday when it goes extra late.

Getting my hair cut.  All the parts.  From the smell of the shampoo and massage as it’s being washed to the finishing spritz of the fancy hairspray and the extra smooth way it feels as I leave.

Putting on jeans on a late summer evening when you sense a touch of fall in the air.  I love the warm caress that hugs me tight.

Randomly going for ice cream in the next town over on a summer evening.  On a weekday.

Camping with everyone in the same tent and falling asleep all cuddled together.

Sandals and painted toes.

When someone totally understands.  A conversation when I felt completely heard and validated.  That’s all I really ever want, just to connect.

Cozy talk with one or two other couples around our fireplace on a late weekend night.

Saving a bundle because of good timing and coupons that worked out.  With free shipping to boot.

The perfect lipstick.  You have no idea how hard it is to find.

Short filed nails with clear polish.

The smell of Mary Kay and Ponds.  Even after more than twenty years of using them.

Freshly mowed lawn on a late Saturday afternoon, ready for the night’s company.  I don’t even care that the tiny blades litter our kitchen floor.  It just feels so fresh and tidy!

My annual hour-long massage in that dark cozy room with the pretty music and candles.  I love the heated table, the smelly lotion, and her soft warm blankets.  Heavenly.

Tahitian Renewal body wash.  I’ve tried a million others and I always go back. 

A freshly vacuumed vehicle.  Sort of embarrassing how good something so little can make me feel.

This great invention, Cover Gray.  It comes in a tube like lipstick but is about the consistency of shoe polish.  Whatever, it stretches the time between coloring if you’re dark-headed like me but have just enough grays to not be able to pull it off.

Two-packet hot chocolate made with milk.

The smell coming out of dryer vents when we’re on our neighborhood walks.

Lemonade/strawberry slushies I make in our blender (just lemon juice, sugar, frozen strawberries and water).  I was desperate for a treat this summer and we had no cookies.

You’ll laugh, but I love buying my kids new socks and underwear.  I feel so motherly, so in-tune with even the small details of their lives, and so grateful to be able to provide the basics.  I guess I just think of all the moms in the world who can’t, and so it just makes me so happy.

The perfume Todd and I fought over two Mother’s Days ago because it’s so expensive.  But I love it.  Dolci & Gabbana.

Driving to the airport to pick up Aunt Cheri or nana.  I think this about tops the kids’ lists.

Getting to my doctor appointments early and having a stack of Good Housekeepings nearby.  I don’t care how behind the doctor is—I’m in my happy place.

A clear desk, all the bills and papers filed away.  Or, to be honest, a desk with papers and junk just waiting for me to organize.

Fruit-smelling shaving cream made just for girls.  I always use soap because it’s cheaper.  But it is so indulgent to use the can of cream.

My huge white tablecloth that fits our table even with the extensions and white cloth napkins.  I love how black and white embellishments make a sophisticated tablescape, Christmas is magical, and even pastel Easter candies and napkins and flowers look sweet and lovely.

A song on the radio that makes you think back to being a teenager, summoning up a whole collection of memories in just a few seconds.  I can’t help but smile remembering back to being young.  I’m a sucker for the old slow country songs of the early 90s because they were my backdrop to falling in love with Todd.  Even now when we’re driving or I’m just working alone at home, those same feelings come to life and I’m a young college freshman falling in love all over again.

Fleece-lined tights.  My sister bought me a pair a few years back and they are revolutionary.  Slide right under even slimmer jeans.  I like the ones with feet and then I add thick socks.  For a wimp like me, it’s just what the doctor ordered.

Nights when the house is clean and smells good and friends are coming over and all the window sills have three twinkling candle votives with more on the table.  It feels so cozy and romantic.

Chocolate chip skillet cookies with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream.  Hands down one of my very favorite parts of life.

Topped only by having my family all home for the night, connecting after a busy day, knowing we’re not getting even most of it right, but feeling that we’re tight as a family.  That, if nothing else, we really do have a good relationship with each other and with each of the kids.  I could skip the whole list and be content if all I had was this.

Andrew's Farewell Talk

Andrew McLane

Farewell Talk

Courage to Choose the Right

Sunday August 23, 2015

Hi, as many of you know, my name is Andrew McLane.  I’ve spent the last year away at BYU having the best freshman year possible and only messed up my grades a little bit.  But in 3 days I will head down to Mexico City for 6 weeks and then straight to the California Ventura mission speaking Spanish.   So that will be a bit different than Billings since instead of -30* to 100, I’ll be having perfect weather everyday for the next two years.

In Alma 11, Alma and Amulek were preaching the Gospel to the people of Ammonihah as instructed by the Lord.  The people began to be angry with Alma and Amulek because they told them that they were wicked and needed to repent.  An especially angry man, Zeezrom, tempted them with a large amount of money to deny God’s existence.  When this did not work, Zeezrom proceeded to question Alma and Amulek, trying to trick them into countering their own words.  However, Amulek stood his ground, and bore his testimony that he knew that what he taught of was true and would not deny it.

Over this last summer, I worked as a lifeguard, and found how easy it is to give into angry people.  Even though my experience is not nearly as difficult as what Alma and Amulek had to go through, I can still recognize how hard it is to stand up for your beliefs.  Which leads to my assigned topic, courage to choose the right.

When I think of courage to choose the right, the first thing I think of is choosing not to do drugs when you’re offered them.  But that really isn’t a great example, especially since I wouldn’t even know who to get drugs from in the first place and have never had the desire to do so.  So what is choosing the right?  Is it really just following all the things we aren’t supposed to do?  I think that it certainly starts with that.  Lets separate the commandments into two categories; the “Do Not” and the “Do”.  Of the “do not” commandments, I think there are two types, the ones that others can see, and the ones that no one does.  The ones that others can see are both potentially easier and more difficult to follow.  Since you are with others, peer pressure can be immensely difficult to overcome.  The best way to deal with this is to decide early on what choices you will make.  It is far easier to decide what action you will take when you are at home with your family than in the heat of the moment with the friends you are trying to impress.  Even better is to avoid situations that could lead to difficult choices and to surround yourself with friends that will help you make the right choices.

I think that I haven’t had to deal with many of these situations because all of my friends knew that I was LDS and what my beliefs were.  I don’t think that they would have even allowed me to drink or smoke even if I had wanted to.  People are a lot more accommodating to your beliefs than given credit for, and I think one of the best ways to demonstrate your commitment to your covenants is by living in a way that people recognize your different lifestyle.  Doing so will not only keep you from temptation, but could lead to missionary opportunities as they realize they want what you have.

The other type of situation is in your personal life, where no one knows about your actions but you and the Lord.  I think that these could be the most difficult situation and need the most courage to keep God’s commandments.  Examples of these sins could be bad thoughts toward another or pornography.  There are often no obvious consequences for these, like there are with more public sins.  The only way to deal with these is by having a strong enough testimony so as to resist temptations and by having a strong enough relationship with God so as to not want to break his commandments.

Having the strength to keep God’s “Do Not” commandments is essential, but courage to follow God’s “Do” commandments is where I believe we should focus our efforts on.  These include all the primary answers like praying daily and reading our scriptures, going to church and taking the sacrament.  These are also acts you can’t check off a list like loving everyone and serving others.  This is where real conversion happens. When I was younger, I thought that as long as you didn’t break the bad commandments, that you would magically become like one of the spiritual giants and have a great testimony.  However, I now recognize that by following the “do” commandments first, our strength to resist temptations increases and our desire to sin falls away and keeping the “do not” commandments becomes easy, something that you don’t even have to think about.

This brings us to the question of why do we even need to choose the right?  The wrong looks like so much more fun!  We hear that wickedness never was happiness over and over, but it seems almost cliche, easy to say, but is it really true?  But it is true; the happiest people I know are the ones who live the gospel exactly, who serve and care about others more than themselves, who are completely devoted to the Gospel.  I know that when I have lived the gospel more exactly, my life has been more enjoyable.  Several of my friends at BYU came from lifestyles different than what living the Gospel creates.  Each one who I talked to about their previous lives emphasized how much better their lives are now that they live a gospel-centered life.  As cliché as it might sound, Alma is correct in saying “wickedness never was happiness.”  Joseph Smith taught, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God."

There are several obvious ways that sin leads to misery.  Substance abuse leads to addiction, lose of agency, and slowly takes over your life.  Pornography has similar effects; it takes control of your freedom and makes relationships more difficult.  Even simple things like gossiping can lead to mistrust and a lack of empathy.  Having to do anything takes away happiness and that is what many sins lead to, an addiction.  No sin will lead to lasting happiness.

The more important reason to choose the right is to return to the presences of our Eternal Father.  Everyone will make mistakes and can repent, but it is far easier to not make them in the first place.  If we are to have lasting joy, which I like to think of as a step above happiness, we have to be in the presence of God.  Having courage to choose the right will allow us to return to Heavenly Father, and look at him unashamed.  

Obviously choosing the right is crucial; it is the whole point of earth life.  So how can we improve our commitment to choose the right and have courage to do so?  One way suggested by Elder L. Tom Perry is to decide NOW what choices you will make.  In his words, we should…

“Develop discipline of self so that, more and more, you do not have to decide and redecide what you will do when you are confronted with the same temptation time and time again. You need only to decide some things once. How great a blessing it is to be free of agonizing over and over again regarding a temptation. To do such is time-consuming and very risky. Likewise, my dear young friends, the positive things you will want to accomplish need be decided upon only once—like going on a mission and living worthily in order to get married in the temple—and then all other decisions related to these goals can fall into line.”

Another way that I have found immensely helpful is to fill your life with light.  I don’t know where, but I heard a quote that essentially says that we are either progressing or they are falling back.  There really isn’t a motionless option we can take that keeps us at our current spiritual level.  Either we are living the gospel in a way that invites the spirit and allows personal revelation, or we are slacking and slowly returning to a mindset where we are more easily tempted or tripped up by the Devil.  For me, it seems the hardest time to keep the commandments is right after you start trying to return to good habits such as daily scripture study.  When I’m not doing it, there really isn’t a need to work on me and when I am doing it, the spirit helps give me strength to resist temptation.  I’ve found that I have to push through the first little bit before it gets easier

Having the courage to choose the right does not always mean not doing something wrong in the moment.  Better is to avoid the situation that could lead to that decision.  The lord says in Doctrine and Covenants that he will not allow Satan to tempt us above what we can bear.  However, continually allowing ourselves to be in situations that force the spirit to leave is a sure way for us to allow ourselves to make decisions we would not make with the presence of the Holy Ghost.  In addition, avoiding or leaving difficult situations can prevent a small transgression to become a serious sin.  One example is that of King David and Bathsheba.  Even though his initial action was fine, David should have left when he recognized that the situation could lead to him breaking God’s commandments.  David couldn’t have imagined that going out on his balcony could lead to him committing both adultery and murder, two of the most serious sins. 

Courage to choose the right can be to get help from the lord and from church leaders if needed as well.  If David would have had courage to admit his mistake he could have avoided so much pain.  Everyone will make choices that seem to cripple them and they want to keep private, but it is so much easier and helps staying out of the dark hole of sin

A final way to choose the right is prayer.  This may be a less obvious way to have courage to choose the right, but let me explain.  Mosiah 27:14 says that God will answer our prayers, according to our faith.  If we pray for the strength to always choose the right, then that desire will be granted, according to our faith.  Combine this with the early commitment to choose the right, and even if we do find ourselves in an immensely difficult situation, Heavenly Father will give us the strength to stay strong and keep his commandments.  Joseph Smith is an excellent example of this.  When he went the sacred grove to inquire which church to join, a dark force came over him, and he says that “it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to a sudden destruction.”  I think his next reaction is similar to what many others would be.  He prayed.  “But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me…I saw a pillar of light.”  His faith and reliance upon God is what saved him from the darkness.  I would like to concentrate on one part of that scripture however.  It is “exerting all my power.”  Most of the time, I think that my prayers are standard.  I ask for roughly the same things and check “pray” off my list.  There is a difference between saying your prayers and praying.  Saying your prayers might cross off that for your day, and I think Heavenly Father will listen, but actually praying is different.  It involves opening your heart and admitting that you can’t even begin to do it on your own.  It is turning your will over to God and doing what he wants from you, regardless of what you thought your path was.  Following this is probably the greatest form of courage.  You the only thing you are relying on is your faith that God exists and has a plan for you.

Having the courage to choose the right has so many blessings.  Most obvious is that we will keep the commandments.  We take the first steps to salvation.  Our faith will increase as follow God's council, others will see how we live and notice that there is something different and good about our lives.  Missionary opportunities will present themselves as a result.  

Ambivalence

Writing in my journal the other night, I started to nail down a few conflicts I’d been going back and forth about, hoping to deal with the mind clutter.  I’ve been told I’m complicated.  I hate that.  It hurts my feelings; but I admit it, I’ve got a mind like spaghetti.  Maybe it’s a girl thing.  For whatever it’s worth, here’s the list.

Loving the stage of parenthood I'm in (teens and upper elementary) so much but hating it more than any other because they're leaving.  Eager for our 19 year-old to be heading out on one of the greatest of life’s experiences for two years.  Sad that our family will never be the same.  Anticipating one of the best phases of our family’s life.  Hard to believe it’s come to this.  Feeling wistful.

Learning to hold my tongue and not impart every good idea I have to my kids.  Wanting them to avoid pitfalls I faced, but knowing the value of agency and learning from our very own mistakes.  Wishing they’d ask for advice.  Knowing I never did.

Longing for just one more baby.  But knowing we felt good about the decision to stop.  Wondering if we should've pushed it.  Glad that we didn't take the risk.  Having vivid dreams about babies, wondering what another one of our babies would've looked like.  Relieved to be past that stage.  Wondering if I’ll be a better grandma.

Wanting to be pro-active with my sore arm vs not wanting to hurt it more.  I remember wondering the same thing after each baby and especially after my c-section.  They always told me to take it easy but don't just lie in bed because your muscles will stiffen.  Good grief, I never knew what they really meant.  So I went up and down stairs with laundry, mopped, did all my regular life, but I wonder if that's what inhibited my desired speedy healing.  I need a list. 

Knowing it doesn't matter what people think but wanting to know if I've hurt someone's feelings or made someone happy. Not many people let you know one way or the other.  It's hard to know what to change or if something was worthwhile without feedback, so I wonder what ramifications my behavior has.  I think we all do the best we can, it would just be nice to get a report card from God every now and then.  Or from one of his mortals.

Wanting to be tan but not wanting to get skin cancer.  Wishing for that beautiful clear brown skin like so many of my friends but also finally accepting and loving my freckles.  But if we’re being honest, I’ll have to admit I prefer tan skin with freckles to the white milkish backdrop I’m dealing with.

Craving my fluff magazine or book at the end of the day but wondering if I should spend my time on something more enriching. I already know what you’re thinking.  But time is precious to me and I love learning, I want to use my time and mind fully.  That's one reason I hate sleeping.  I am so grateful for the days I've been granted that I want to make the most of them.  I'm fast and efficient.  To a fault.  But Todd's been trying to teach me to sit on the porch with a lemonade for years.  And I love it!  The kids love to show me bugs and sunsets, I love our slow, quiet evenings.  But I'm torn, wanting to make the most of every moment I have, to show that I appreciate my health and ability to work, while at the same time wanting to just enjoy the moments, to slow down and just be.  I'm getting better at both, working hard when I'm on task and allowing myself to just savor the downtime, but I lean way too far on the efficient side.

Feeling like I ought treasure special items like family glassware and jewelry but honestly not caring one bit.  I’m the least sentimental person I know.

Wondering if it's better to tell someone outright that s/he's hurt your feelings or to think about it for a little bit first.  Most of the time I recognize my part in the conflict immediately but am too embarrassed to make amends or admit it right away.  Or my emotions are too raw to even talk about it.  So I wait.  But it makes it harder to bring up and deal with.  I'm the worst.  Ask Todd.

Liking having people around but longing to be alone. I think apartment living is perfect for this.  The main reason I went to the library to study instead of staying in my apartment in college.  I still like that set-up today: me writing or puttering around the house with Todd and all the kids doing their own things.  I like the background noise, knowing people are around, but being able to focus on my own work.

I feel this on the weekends.  Wanting to just go to bed early with a book after a busy week while at the same time eager for company and socializing.  I'm happy with either, a mix of our little family and a little branching out, it's just hard to know which one to pursue.

Wanting beautiful long dark tresses but knowing I'll never be that kind of girl.  Because even though I know that looks don't matter, that we should just look for the good in people, I still wonder what it would be like to be beautiful, to be noticed like the models, what it would be like to live in that shell.  I know, shallow, a waste of time, but I’ll admit it.  I sometimes wonder.

Should I fight my mom and insist on paying for dinner or just let it go?  She works so hard for her money and I appreciate her generous spirit, but I’m torn.  We’re both so stubborn.  I don't want to take advantage of her, and I only do activities I'm willing to pay for, but she insists at every turn.  So hard to know whether to keep at it or to wave my white flag.

Wanting people to read my blog but not wanting everyone to know my business.  I don't want to be famous, but I'm willing to open up if it helps anyone feel validated or if it helps anyone to know that someone out there understands and has felt the same thing.  That is a huge motivation for my writing, helping us feel connected and more similar than different.  And so I'm both private and not, comfortable sharing my inner core and yet secretly glad not very many people read what I write.  

Wanting to be smart and at one time (elementary school) thinking I was, now knowing I'm average and really don't know much at all.  Being attracted to the ladies who read and are intelligent, who make me want to be better.  They inspire me, they’re interesting, I love our conversations, I feel at home with them.  I want to be truly intelligent.  But I sometimes feel like a fraud, knowing I'm not really one of them.

Wanting to butt in and take care of things for my kids vs wanting them to be independent.  Wanting to teach them self sufficiency but worrying that I'm not being nurturing enough.  Am I doing too much or leaving too much up to them?  I have a pretty good idea, but I so love the soft moms around me.  I wish I were more like them.  

Not having a real paid job but feeling like I'm running as fast as the ladies who do.  Wanting to be available for my kids but feeling like there are so many ways I can use my time that sometimes I feel like I need a day off even though technically every day is a day off in my life.  I want to serve and give and help other people, but sometimes I feel like I'm giving everything away with nothing left for my family.  I want to be selfless, but sometimes that leads to resentment and I realize I want to retreat and be a bit selfish.

Talking just enough about the facts of life while not planting new ideas for them to mull over.  Wanting to talk about it all more but not wanting to make them uncomfortable.  Good grief.

Loving having a big yard but feeling resentful that it takes so much time and work.  I love that the trees and flowers are maturing and filling in, but I wonder if not too far down the road we'll have to downsize and leave the yard we've come to love after all we've invested.  I love that our kids all play a part in its maintenance, yet it makes me wonder if all we've created is a future headache.

Wanting so much to talk about religion with all my friends but feeling like I can’t.  It’s weird to not be able to because it’s the backdrop of my whole life.  But I cherish my relationships and never want religion to become a wedge.  I love it when someone is open with me about her faith, what they do at their church, what their doctrines are.  It’s all fascinating to me!  So I straddle this part of me too—being myself but not too much of myself.

Wanting to have treats but not flab. Wanting the cookies but knowing what it takes to work them off.  This is a constant pendulum in my life.  Salad and grapes with cottage cheese for lunch.  Four cookies and milk for dessert.  Yeah, it’s bad.  

Letting my kids have a traditional, old-fashioned summer vs providing a little bit of structure.  Been dealing with this one for years.  Maybe we ought to let them sleep till they're not tired any more?  Or maybe we should insist they be more productive with their days?  I have no idea.  Can’t decide if I’m looking forward to school starting or if I’m secretly sad I won’t have them around all the time.  I like their company, but sometimes I’m grateful for our tv.

Being with Todd at night or the kids in the morning.  He stays up late.  They get up early.  I end up doing both.  I love staying up late with Todd.  I love our pillow talk, catching up after the day, working on a puzzle in the dim light of the quiet house or pouring over our Country Living magazines together in our cozy bed.  But then it's 11 and I realized I've sabotaged tomorrow.  Because the kids will be up at 5:30 and I'll want to be up with them, starting the laundry, doing my work-out, saying prayer with them before they leave.  Napping is my secret weapon.

Wanting to live by a budget but knowing it never works.  Striking the balance between caring about money (being prudent and responsible) and not letting it be a major interference with every decision I make.  We like to be up-front with the kids about the reality of life, how much things cost, why we can't do everything other people do, how we choose to spend our money, all so they have a realistic handle on what it takes to run a household, so they’ll be more responsible than we’ve been.  And yet I know I talk about it way too much.  That's a habit I inherited.  And one I know I need to break.  I hate it.  I try to be a good steward, and yet I don't want money to be the deciding factor in every choice.  Some real work is needed here.

Wanting to include everyone but not wanting anyone to ever feel that she's a project or that I'm just doing it to be nice.  I honestly like being with a variety of people, and I like getting small groups together;  I just can't consistently, simultaneously invite everyone I know.  I think we all gravitate to a handful of close friends.  I don't want to be any part of a clique and yet I worry about leaving someone out.

Even though I vowed many years ago to not gossip, I still struggle. I do think it's good to pass on compliments, but otherwise I think we need to be very careful with what people share with us.  I don't want to talk about people negatively, but at the same time I know that close friends have a need to talk things out, and a lot of times that entails sharing about people they're struggling with.  I get all mixed up about this one.  With some friends I have to remember not to ask a single question about any living person.  With other friends I need to remember to be sensitive, to follow up on relationships they've told me about in depth.  Sometimes I mix these two up and am so embarrassed.  I guess my resolution here is it depends on the reason.  If someone’s just spouting news, that makes me a little uncomfortable.  But if we can help a mutual friend, that’s good information.

Wanting to know what's going on in the world while wanting to hide in my my bubble of ignorance. Knowing I need to be an informed and educated citizen but feeling that knot in my stomach listening to the news.  I admire people like Todd who listens to NPR for an hour every day, but I think I'd lie awake in a panic every night if I did that.  I try to temper the bad with good.  I think if someone is going to listen to talk radio for an hour about all the ills of the world, she ought to listen to a show or read for the same amount of time about the volunteers who are helping across the nations, the teens who are raising money for their cancer-stricken friend, inspirational messages of hope and love.  Yes, there is so much bad in the world, but we become what we surround ourselves with.  I want to be informed, but I don't want to be bitter and shriveled, I want reminders of how much good is going on too.

Along those lines, I deal with fears and faith nearly simultaneously, like a yoga girl trying to balance in tree pose.  Ever so slightly I'll go back and forth, relying on my core to keep me upright.  I have a strong sense of the purpose of life, what the outcome will be, what I'm here to do.  I know God is stronger than all the evil in the world, and yet I value agency just as He does, and so evil abounds.  I want to trust Him that He will protect my family, and yet so many others pray for the same thing.  And not everyone is safe.  I want to relax and trust, but I'm afraid at nearly the same time. I know faith and fear can't co-exist, but they are real close neighbors in my head.

I’m sure I’ve more than worn you out with this tour of what’s going on in my head—you can see why I’m so tired come night.  Maybe you feel settled when it comes to issues like these.  And have little patience for people like me.  Or maybe you’ve seen yourself in some of these examples. Maybe it’s just my age.  And that I’ve lived long enough to have seen the spectrum of possibilities on so many issues. I’m ok that I have this muddle going on.  It’s not pretty.  It’s not tidy.  But there’s not a facet of my life that is.  I admit that I’m not sure where I sit about a whole lot of things, that I vacillate, that sometimes I’m unpredictable and inconsistent. But it also means I’m considering things from a variety of angles, that I’m aware of how my actions influence and affect others, that I acknowledge my way isn’t the only way.  It means I’m opinionated but sensitive, hopeful but realistic.  That I take life seriously but recognize that most of the time that means savoring the days as they come and not stressing if I’m the only one who’s dealing with a little ambivalence here and there.

I've never

—found out any of our babies’ genders until they were born.

—or sent out a single baby announcement.

—been off the high dive.

—or any diving board.  I know.  Don’t even say it.  What happened is I missed the boat.  I could’ve tried it out at a friend’s house, but there were always so many people around.  I hate being watched.  And the public pool?  For a first time?  Are you kidding? Months turned into years and here I am, 43 and not the least bit interested.  I almost did a couple of years ago when we were at a friend’s indoor pool just to have done it, but then I thought no.  I’m the only 43 year old in the world who can claim this.

—liked to swim.  It feels good to move around and I love the exercise, but I’m always freezing and feel completely claustrophobic. 

—wanted a tattoo.  Until I changed my mind.

—liked my freckles.  Until a few years ago.

—liked listening to the news.  It still scares me.

—maximized the uses of any electronic item I’ve ever owned.

—slept in past about 9 a.m.

—regretted being too nice.

—liked the night and have always wished I didn’t have to sleep.

—enjoyed receptions.  Even those in my honor.

—finished a book I didn’t like.  Unless it was for a class.

—liked to run.  Well, back in 5th grade I think I was one of the fastest in my class.  I liked it then.

—been able to joke and tease with brother-like guys.

—had a manicure.  Except the day before I got married.

—been downhill skiing, snowboarding, or snow mobiling.  I don’t even care for sledding.
---read Harry Potter.  Or The Hunger Games.  Or seen the movies.  I started both book series.  Not my type.
---eaten Chinese food out of those little white take-out boxes.  It's on my bucket list.  It's in all the romantic movies.

—sung a solo.

—had a profession or had a job that required a degree.

—had fake nails.  Or eyelashes.  Or hair.  I wouldn’t know where to start with any of that.

—liked charades.

—thrown up during a pregnancy.  I went through five.

—minded when the kids pull out blankets and pillows and full-size mattresses and dress up clothes.  I love forts, make-shift houses, pretend camping, orphanage, all of it.

—waxed anything except one family’s bathroom floor back when I was a teenager and cleaned houses.

—wanted to be famous.  Are you kidding?
---or even wanted to meet someone famous.  I've read their stories, I certainly don't want to make small talk.

—been accused of being too fun.

—believed in diets.  Healthy tweaks, fine, but grapefruit and kale for a month? Dumb.  What happens when you go back?

—felt really good about heights or small spaces.
---forgiven myself for being so mean to a girl in elementary school.  Seriously mean.  I hate even having it as part of my history.  Likewise, I can't get over the way I behaved in jr. high or high school.  I would love a do-over, I would love to be 100% nice.

—liked babysitting.

—had really blond hair since I was a kid. Although I did get it pretty light with Sun-in between 9th and 10th grade.

—adequately thanked my parents for all they’ve done.  I’ve tried to get in touch with a few others over the years as well with little luck;  I just hope somehow I can pay it all forward.

—minded weeding or cleaning.  Or helping other people with their weeds and houses.
---bought my kids fast food just because we were at a soccer game and couldn't make it home for dinner.  For me, fast food is a treat, something they look forward to, not just because we left the house unprepared.  Way too cheap for nonsense like that.

—figured out why some people are deemed cool while others aren’t.

—minded snakes.  Or worms (except in my food and I certainly don't want to wrap it around a hook).

—regretted getting rid of something as much as I do the tapes Todd and I exchanged when he was in Norway for two years.
---not believed in miracles.  Every day is a miracle.  The fact that our bodies work harmoniously and so flawlessly, nature in all its glory, the animal world, the way people can survive such incredible odds and the way lives can change, miracles all around us every day.  Just watch a baby being born.  Look at the alignment of our earth and all the planets.  Think about how a plant makes its own food.  You'd never convince me otherwise.

—not finished the whole burrito at Cafe Rio.
---been good at taking criticism.

—checked into a hotel or rented a car by myself.

—served a mission.  One of my life’s top regrets.
---had my hair or makeup professionally styled.  Not for a prom, not even for my wedding.  The last thing in the world I would've thought about or wanted to spend money on.

—been to any other country except Mexico and Scotland.

—wanted to live in a big house.  This one is about as big as I’d feel comfortable in, and I still feel like we could double up a bit.  A waste of space and everyone’s separated when things get so spread out.  I like cozy.

—stayed up to watch an eclipse or Haley’s comet.  I have seen the Northern Lights and a shooting star though.
---understood why I love nature and the outdoors so much and other people don't.  I thought it was a given that everyone likes hiking and waterfalls and picnics.

—been any good at breakfast foods.  Todd does our family’s breakfast every day; I guess I just don’t get enough practice.
---read through all my journals completely.  I've got at least 30 something.  I've read snippets over the years but never sat down and read them all completely.  I can't think of anything more embarrassing.

—bought a song on iTunes.
---had a pizza delivered.

—looked at an ugly house without making it over in my mind.  Every house has potential.
---liked being cold.  I think I would choose to be too hot.  It makes me irritable to be cold.

—liked using the real mop.  It doesn’t get the corners.  It just works better on my hands and knees.

—made a BLT for my family until this past year.

—lit a firework.
---wanted to travel the world.  Or backpack through Europe.  Or see the Seven or Eight Wonders.  I'm good.  I love my bed. I love regular everyday food. And you know I'd hate to spend all that money.

—used crutches.
---looked back on my wedding colors with regret.  Navy and white with cranberry accents (i.e. flowers on the cake).  I loved it all so much then, I'd do it exactly the same even today.  I love that we never had bridesmaids and that our sisters just found navy church dresses.  That my mom's friends made yummy everyday food and that it was beautiful but casual.  So us.  Well, not the beautiful part.  The casual part.

—understood imaginary numbers or vectors.

—really cared for chocolate as an adult.  I like brownies and chocolate chip cookies and See’s of course but not anything like a plain Hershey’s bar or a mousse dessert. 

—watched Fiddler on the Roof all the way through.

—cared for shrimp.  I think it’s the texture.

—gotten over Todd’s winks.
---had Dish or whatever else there is.  It came with our apartment the first two years of our marriage, but I don't think we've ever ordered it or paid for it since.  We haven't had tv stations for eight years.

—broken a bone or been to the emergency room (except to take a friend).  So of course I’ve never had an xray (other than at the dentist/baby dr) until a couple weeks ago.

—felt safe using a pressure cooker.  So I don’t.

—owned a dock or an ipod or even an MP3 player.

—stopped at gas station or the drive-thru to buy myself a soda.  I can’t even imagine.

—gone a day without lipstick since 6th grade.  Not even camping.

—considered getting rid of our VCR.

—wanted a fancy car.  I don’t even know the names of any cars except the ones we own.  Definitely a zero to me.

—liked being in the spotlight.  Oddly enough though, I don’t mind giving talks.  Weird.

—been able to tolerate crudeness, not even in dumb kids’ movies, there’s just no reason for it.

—had sushi.  And I don’t plan on it.  Ever.

—gotten tired of walking.  I’ll walk for miles with you.

—liked those soft feathery pillows that puff up on each side of your head and then you’re still lying flat against the mattress.  Pointless.

—had a vehicle detailed.  It would last like half the afternoon is all.  What a waste.

—enjoyed a book as much when I was told to read it (like for book group or a class) as when I choose it myself. 

—stayed a single night all by myself.  I’ve always had a roommate, a sister, a mom, a husband or at least a baby with me.

—seen any Star Wars (except when I was forced to go to Empire Strikes Back when I was 12) or Star Trek or Andy Griffith or MASH or Friends or Seinfeld (it was on in the background once) or a million other main stream shows everyone else has watched.  I don’t know why, just not my thing.

—been as good at apologizing as Todd.  He rarely needs to though.  I know this is a weak area I need to work on.

—wanted to go on a hot air balloon ride.  I’ve ridden a tram with a glass bottom.  I’ve ridden ski lifts.  I HATE being that high in the air.  Nightmare.

—been on a sleeper train.  I always thought that was sort of an interesting arrangement.

—run more than maybe three miles at a time.  And that was only because I was with a guy I liked.  I’d never do that again.  I don’t care how cute he is.  Unless it was my 11 year old son.  He’s pretty cute and I even went on a high fast slide for him.  But running…

—had a desire to visit the Orient.  At all.

—understood people who don’t eat breakfast.  It’s one of the top 3 things on my mind in the morning because I’m famished.

—had consistently painted nails since maybe high school. I’ve also never painted them black.  I would secretly love to!

—stopped loving navy.  Even when it went out of style for 20 years.  It’s my favorite color in the world.

—taken my washing machine for granted.  Ever.  I love it more than most any other appliance in my house.

—found my name on a personalized mug or keychain in a souvenir shop.

—owned a cat.  Although I would love to. But I’m allergic.

—looked good in long hair.  Even though I love long hair on about 97% of girls/women I know.  Sad.  I’m doomed to shortish brown locks.  Like Ramona.

—set or emptied a mouse trap.  Or even looked at a full one except by accident.

—been able to pass up a book shop.

—eaten a donut in the last 5-10 years.  Although I did have a Danish at a get-together a year or two ago.  Delectable.

—held a bird.  Even a  helpless baby one.  I hate birds.

—given up on handwritten cards and letters.

—been impressed with arrogance or titles.

—gone to a high school reunion.  I doubt I ever will.

—driven to a destination more than 45 minutes away completely by myself.

—really liked Duran Duran or Michael Jackson even when it was all the rage at 6th grade camp.  I still don’t understand what Thriller is all about.
---had a migraine.

—caught a fish or gone hunting.

—tasted coffee or beer or wine.  But I love the coffee aisle smell and my mom’s mocha cookies were some of my favorites growing up.

—missed a day of high school.  Except to visit BYU for a day or two—I guess they counted that as a field trip.

—wanted to surf or water ski or wake board or paddle board or do any other water sport.  I’ve been on jet skis, sail boats, speed boats, catamaran, and the boob tube, I hated them all.  I’m fine to guard the treats on shore.

—spoken another language fluently.  Even though I took Spanish in jr. high, high school, and college.  I don’t want to talk about it.

—wanted to go to any other college but BYU, the only one I applied to.  It was a dream come true.

—liked sleeping on my stomach.

—been that great at details.  Maybe when I was an uptight kid/teen, but not since.  I’m the worst.

—worried about a dropped cookie or carrot or cracker or grape.  What’s a little dirt?

—enjoyed a season of my life more than the one I’m in.

—served my family cereal for dinner.  Except once as a treat.  They were ecstatic!

—gone on a cruise.  Or even wanted to.
---really liked slumber parties.  Even as a kid.  I went.  But they were always sort of out of my element.

—stopped being enamored by our house.  I still can’t believe it’s ours.  I know it’s not fancy to anyone else, but it is a dream come true to me.
---wanted a cabin in the woods.  What would happen is we'd open the door and a dead mouse would greet us.  I don't want the extra payment and work.  I'd rather just rent one now and then.
---or wanted a boat.  But we have one.  It's an issue we're divided on.  I can see his side.  Really.  I just don't think we need it.
---knitted.  Although Todd has.  The old ladies taught him in Norway, so he made me socks.   I've crocheted and cross stitched and did needle point back in the 70s.  Never did learn about macramé though.

—been bitten by an animal other than my hamster and a spider.

—found an author I like as much as Beverly Cleary.  And Stockard Channing is my favorite audio book person to listen to in the world (Rizo on Grease).
---liked rap music.  It reminds me of my childhood and scares me.

—watched an entire football game on Thanksgiving.

—figured out what I should be when I grow up or what my major was supposed to be.  Or what I’m supposed to do now.
---wanted to be president of anything.

—I was going to say I’ve never cried or laughed more than I have this past year.  Then I remember I went to high school once upon a time.

—met someone I couldn’t learn at least something from.  And I’ve never gotten to know someone without understanding him/her better.  Even if it’s still not pretty, I can at least see where s/he’s coming from.  And about 99% of the time I really like that person.  Just because we got to know each other.

—known love or frustration so powerful until I became a mom.  I’ve never felt so weak or so strong.  I guess I’ve just never experienced such a wide variety of emotions, such opposition, as I have in family life.

—felt more loved and accepted and cherished and complete than I do with Todd.

—not known that God is real and that Christ lives and loves me.  I’ve never doubted for a single second.

I have hesitated posting this because I know I haven’t exhausted the list.  There will always be more to write about!  But I wanted to at least make a start, to open my heart and life—with all its embarrassments—in hopes that you will create your own similar list.  I let some of my kids read it; I hope the others will eventually because I want them to realize I’m just a regular person, not just a mom.  Although I know you’re thinking, who is she kidding? She’s not anything like a regular person; in fact, she might be the weirdest person I’ve ever heard of….  I know, I see where you’re coming from.  But I’ve pretty much always been that way.  I wish my mom and dad and grandparents had written something like this though.  I can’t help but think it would’ve helped me know them better.  And so I encourage you to share some of your own with whoever you spend time with.  Start a conversation tonight over dinner.  Get a blank book and have everyone go around the table and write down their responses.  You’ll be glad you did.  Because I know from experience that I’ve never been sorry to have shared a funny or tender moment with someone I love.

For Cara :)