"Of" The Week

I would rather be picking flowers but I suppose these stories won't wait.

Speaking of flowers, the weather has reached perfection in my book. When it hits 60-70 degrees I sing hallelujah. Beautiful.

Have I mentioned that my two oldest daughters are a handful? Things are actually not too shabby at school, the question is will I go insane or contract permanent brain damage during the process of trying to hold it all together.



Norah's parent teacher conference revealed that she is an outstanding creative writer. I knew she reminded me of my brother Nate who coincidentally, graduated with a masters from Columbia in theatrical writing. Norah is always off in another place, another time, and another land. As her mother I appreciate this, but the big vein in my forehead is starting to throb and will soon explode unless she learns how to channel her creativity more productively and appropriately. Food needs to be eaten and shoes must be put on.



Lulu is a super-reader. Challenger usually sends students home with 1-2 readers but Lulu receives 5 and devours them. Last week she read me The Friend. One of Lulu's challenges is volume control. Serenity Now!




Abram is a sensitive boy. He is sensitive to food, noise, texture, touch, you name it. I am the type of person who likes to think, Abram is the person that likes to talk, and talk. That boy does not have a thought enter his head that does not exit his mouth. I am working on becoming the mom that enjoys this insight into a 3, almost 4 years old's mind. But thank heaven he still takes a nap.

He attends school twice a week and loves it. He has all the letters memorized along with their sounds, including the long and short vowel sounds. He calls himself awesome. Awesome Abram.



All of this leads me to appreciate my soft, cuddly child. Sure, she throws tantrums and is often stubborn, but she actually gets her shoes when I ask her to. And she loves to be held. Every mother should have a baby that throws her arms around her mother's neck and won't let go. Rosemary is that baby.



Remember when I hit that bus? This is my surreptitious photo during traffic school where I learned so much about seat belts and disobedient citizens who obviously love to spend time at the police station on a Saturday morning because they won't stop talking about themselves. Sorry, that was uncharitable, but so true. I will never speed or hit a bus again.



I made these for a baby shower, all from my own garden. I like to talk about myself too.



This was my dress-up of the week. Although, I took it off as soon as I got home from church and put on jeans and a t-shirt.

What Conference taught me:

I've been a bit cranky this past month. I think I just let myself get run down by all that is expected of me as a mother and homemaker, all that is expected of me as a YW president, and all that is expected of me as a sister in the Relief Society. As meetings and doctor's appointments and responsibilities that seemed to be solely mine
piled on I realized that I needed to be more and I was slightly resentful because sometimes I don't feel like being more, sometimes I feel like being less. You know?

And I wasn't keeping it to myself, I was starting to complain. Instead of helping others feel better about themselves, I was a rain cloud. In fact, I think I said something along the lines of: If this is the way the Celestial Kingdom is going to be (serving all the time), I don't want to go. One of my better moments for sure.

And then I heard President Monson speak last Saturday, and then this Saturday, and again and again. And I realized I needed to repent. President Monson is the perfect example of how well service can be woven into the daily tasks of life. It's not separate "service" time stealing from "my task" time, the two are complimentary.



These somewhat, we will call them extra-special children, are mine because I need them and they need me so that all of us together can become like Jesus Christ. When faced with some of my children's problems I think "darn genetics", but really, are these burdens not gifts? I know, most of the time it is difficult to see it this way, but I am forced to dig deep and work hard in order to be what they need and so I am forced to involve God because they are His children as well and he wants us to succeed.

And my calling, it's not mine alone either. He loves the YW and called me to serve them by serving Him.

I think in our culture, 1st Nephi 3:7 sometimes almost becomes trite because it is quoted so often and is always applicable. But last night, as we had scripture study together as a family I noted the few verses before when Lehi spoke of Leman and Lemual murmuring because their father required them to return to Jerusalem for the plates of brass,and that was hard. And I thought of myself.

And it is hard. I live in a nice house, have a nice car, have plenty of food and clothing, but I struggle to do all that my Father has required of me. Sometimes what He has asked seems so overwhelming and I do feel heavy under it's weight, but then I hear conference and am reminded that He will provide a way as long as I am doing what He has asked and the weight becomes light and a way is provided.



So thank you President Monson for again, teaching me who I am and how to be her.