YOU'VE BEEN BOO-ED!

KACI has officially "boo-ed" me!!! BOO BOO BOO! (and it's past midnight and I'm falling asleep on the keyboard so I'm just going to paste and copy what Kaci said on her blog because she's such a cool chick and I know that if write my own thing I'd sound just as cool as her---NOT. So I'm just gonna copy her word for word.)

Now I get to Boo some of my peeps!! This is how the Blogging Boo will go. Go to as many bloggy peeps as you want and tell them they've been B00-ed! Have them link back to your blog to pick up their Halloween Treat (picture) and tell them to Boo their peeps. (Then put the pic in your side bar so everyone knows that you've already been "boo-ed and to send the pic to someone else). Watch your comments to see if you get booed!

I've left BOO comments on some of your blogs, but I'm so sleepy now, I'm dying, so if I missed your blog and you want the BOO, please help yourself :-)

Better Late Than Never On The Shout Outs

I have some "thank yous" and promised acknowledgements that are way long over due and so I'm finally taking the time to do this quickie post to acknowlege wonderful bloggers who have sent love my way recently.

First the awards:

I want to thank Pam for this one. I was so, so flattered and honored she selected me for this one. She has so many blog friends, and I'm just one of her hanger-ons, so being selected for this is awesome.

Pam writes at McEwens. She is one of those rare kind of people who makes you forget what a rotten day you're having and instead celebrate life and your blessings. She is a giggle therapist, and if you want to know what that is go check her out.

I pass this award on to ALL MY BLOG GAL PALS that are on my "Follow Me" List. So grab the button if you are my blog friend.

This next award is from CJ The Purple Diva:

What can I possibly say about The Diva except that she is one of a kind! She has the coolest blog with the coolest buttons, and she spits out posts like an automatic weapon (hey, did that almost rhyme or what?!). What a fun lady! What you see is what you get with her, and I love it. So check her out HERE.

This award incidentally requires that I post 6 things about me, so here goes:

#1 I don't eat popcorn at the movies. Ever. I prefer mini pretzels or nachos. I hate how popcorn gets caught in the weirdest corners of my mouth and teeth.
#2 A visit to a ball game or a theme park is NOT complete without cotton candy. I have to have cotton candy or it feels like the ball game/theme park is fake.
#3 I cannot sleep without a quilt/comforter even in the summer so we keep the air conditioning going. My husband hates the $400+ monthly energy bill during hot months, but he knows I need my sleep.
#4 I was scripture chase champion during my seminary days. Ha-ha-ha! I know it's hard to tell nowadays that I grew up to be a heathen the quiet, backrow Mormon type. But I'm more than happy to just let everyone else in Sunday School show off what scripture scholars they are.
#5 I have naturally curly hair (thanks to the curly haired Spaniard also known as my Great Grandma). I grew up in the Philippines where most girls have straight hair so I got teased a lot. I hated my hair until the 80's when big poufy permed hair was the rage. Then I was glad I don't have straight hair. Ha! When I moved to Utah my hair went flat. It was really weird. Eventually my curls came back.
#6 I didn't wear make up until I was 18 and foundation until I was 30. Seriously! I had such good skin I didn't need to. Everywhere I went people would ask me what product I was using, and I'd say soap and water. And they're, like "Yeah, right!" Then age hit and my skin looks like poop when I don't wear makeup or products. The joys of being mature :-)

I pass this award on to:

Lesley - my awesome sister in law who posted the very first comment on my very first post!
Lilian- my other sister in law who encouraged me to blog. She's amazing because she is successfully running a household full of boys. 'Nuff said.
Margie- okay, she's another sister in law, and this is sounding like nepotism, but the very best people I know are in my family, so I can't help it. Margie deserves this.
Mom-my wonderful mother mother in law and I hope this makes up for the fact that October 26 was Mother In Law day and I forgot :-(

AND NOW a BIG THANK YOU AND HUGS to my blog friend Lisa Loo in Montana who writes at "Is That A Garage Door On My Ceiling?". She sent me a big box of yummy chocolate that I won at her blog giveaway. Can you believe she managed to mail out boxes of Give Away prizes the week her daughter was having surgery? She is an amazing person! The box she sent was full of fun candy with funny names. This is my father in law getting a kick out of the PMS chocolate bar included in Lisa's box.

And before I log off, if you live in Utah I just have to tell you to go see this concert, WE ALSO SING. It's going to be in the Tabernacle on Temple Square on Saturday, November 1, 2008, at 5:30 and 7:30 p.m.Tickets are still available. Click on the icon below for more information:

I'm talking about this concert because my sister in law Lesley is on the choir. I heard they are amazing, so if you have nothing to do Saturday go see the concert.

Okay, --- I think my to-do box is now empty. Yay! See, I'm not such a crappy friend/sister afterall :-)

Jake!

Let me just start by saying that I am not one of those people who take their dogs for a doggie pedi, mani or massage. I don't buy him doggie sweaters or leather jackets or Halloween costumes. I don't put him in a doggie purse and take him along to the mall or to red carpet galas. Well, okay, so I would need a purse the size of a 50-gallon barrel to put a 120 pound dog in and I've never been invited to a red carpet gala of anything, but that's not the point. What I'm saying is that I don't do Paris Hilton kind of things for my dog ever ***. But still he is not a deprived dog. On the contrary, he is a beloved, doted on and spoiled rotten dog. Just in a little more down-to-earth, traditional man-dog relationship kind of way. With one exception. I celebrate his birthday! So today I say, Yay, for Jake!

(***I so totally would go Paris Hilton on my dog and take him to get a pedi/mani/massage and buy him doggie sweaters and leather jackets, except I'm out numbered by people in my family who absolutely forbid me to turn the dog "gay" --- their word, not mine--- or they'll never walk the dog or be anywhere near the dog. Not fair!)

(**** Yes, I'm allowed to celebrate the doggie's birthday. Although other members of this family are total traditionalists when it comes to man-dog relationship and think it's weird to put a birthday hat on a dog, and give him birthday presents, they know they have to humor me in my silliness now and again or I'll get crabby.)

Today, October 24, is Jakester Meister Super Hyper's 6th birthday! And that is really his name ---nothing to do with being either a traditionalist or a frivolously silly member of this family. We call him Jake for short. His sire (dad) is named Golden Hunter Biscuit which is a nice enough name for a pure bred labrador retriever, and his dam (mom) is named Destiny's Maximum Overdrive. So Jake's name is in keeping with his pure-bred dog family tradition. One grampa is named Hightest Jakester and the other is Elliott Maxwell King of Spaids. I'm not making these names up. I swear! I took them right out of Jake's pedigree chart, the one the breeder gave us to justify the $$$ he was charging for baby Jake.

The $$$, however, has nothing to do with why my husband likes to say that Jake is his enormous deposit in the emotional bank account. That's just what we say in our family when we do nice things for other family members. We're depositing into the emotional bank account. That is so when we do something idiotic or hurtful, there is enough in the bank account to buy understanding and forgiveness. For example, if you are a teen-ager and you vacuum the stairs without being told, or remember to hang wet towels after you're done in the bathroom, then maybe if you take Dad's car because you forgot to put gas in your own car, just maybe he won't get ticked off when he finds out his car is gone because there's going to be enough "good-deeds" funds in the bank account to cover your stupidity. Anyway---

So I was saying that my husband considers buying Jake and actually allowing us to have a dog in the house his all-time big deposit in the family emotional bank account. You see, my husband was not (past tense!) a dog-person. He grew up in a family that never had dogs. He thought that dogs are dirty, yucky creatures who slobber and shed all over and turns the carpeting into bacteria-breeding farm (actually, he still does). I didn't really know this until after we got married. I, on the other hand, am a real dog-loving person. I grew up in a family that owned, loved and played with dogs and thought that being slobbered on by a stinky creature is no big deal as long as it's someone you love stinking up and slobbering all over you. Yes, I was raised to be a faithful wife- -- er, dog-owner. Meanwhile, my husband hated dogs and for the longest time absolutely refused to have a dog.

Needless to say, my husband eventually had a change of heart. This absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that I brainwashed our children took after me and started bugging daddy for a dog. Ha! He bought a dog on his own accord, and ensconced himself us the best Daddy and Husband in the whole wide world. There is a long, but tender story about the day we got Jake and I'll post about that close to Christmas time, but right now I will just say that getting a dog is my husband's way of telling me he loves me. And miracle of miracles, he now loves that dog, too. In return, Jake regards Daddy as his favorite human. He knows and treats Daddy as the leader of the pack, and is absolutely loyal to him. I am so glad that Jake won my husband's heart fast because Jake had done so many naughty things when he was a puppy that any Daddy who loved him less would have taken him back to the breeder or left him at the pound.

Like the day we came home and there was snow all over our living room except it wasn't snow but the filler material in our couch which Jake ripped apart scattering the filler material all over the first floor of the house. I got a new couch out of that ordeal while Daddy got high blood pressure. Or the time we noticed our backyard plants were dying and found that our automatic sprinkling system had been chewed up and ripped apart by the one and only Jake costing us hundreds of dollars to repair. Actually, Jake came very close to going to the pound that day, except Daddy could not resist his puppy dog eyes.

I have to say that Jake's staying power is due to the fact that he more than makes up for all the grief he causes by being the source of absolute cuteness and entertainment. After all, how many 120 pound dogs think they are lap dogs, and sits on Mommy's lap when he is scared? Yes, Mommy, 110-pound Mommy (me) with a 120-pound freaked out dog on my lap. Apparently, that's very amusing to everyone in the family except me. How many dogs get so excited about going to the dog park he hyperventilates and is exhausted even before he gets out of the car? How many dogs eat a loaf worth of bread a week because it's his favorite treat? And how many dogs know his letters? Truly. When I say to my son, "Will you please walk the dog", Jake would go bonkers with excitement like he's going to pee on himself. So one day I simply said to my son, "Can you W the D?" and Jake still went bonkers anyway and almost peed all over, proving that he knows spelling and is a smarty dog! I was a proud Momma!

The only thing not so adorable about Jake if I have to be truthful, is that he is the most neurotic dog I've ever met. He's scared of brooms, laundry baskets, vacuum cleaners, and step stools. If he sees you carrying any of these items, he runs as far away as he can from you. He will not return to the room until he ascertains that you have put away the "horror" object. Despite his annoying neuroses I just cannot help myself but love this crazy dog of mine. So my husband is right. Seeing that I cannot stop thanking him for my dog all these years, he surely has major funds in the emotional bank account.

Happy birthday, Jakey!

When Mommy Thinks Too Loudly

I desperately need to work on my communications skills. Apparently I've been saying things without talking. That's what my kids have led me to believe anyway. Take the following conversation between me and my daughter a couple of weeks after she started college (Note: she says this is not how the conversation went. I was BAD-der than I let on :-)I say this is how I remember it. And it's my post so my version wins):

ME: How's college life going?
DAUGHTER: Great. I need to figure out a major.
ME: Oh, I thought you wanted to be an English teacher.
DAUGHTER: I've changed my mind. What do you think of me going to Berkeley instead of UCLA?
ME: (kidding around) Great. It's a great school. 'Slong as you don't start hugging trees and stop shaving your pits while you're there.
DAUGHTER: Mohhhmmm!
ME: And what are you going to major in at Berkeley?
DAUGHTER: Peace and Conflict Studies.
ME: Oh? Hmm.
DAUGHTER: What? You don't think that's a good major?
ME: (fumbling) Well, I don't know what that is. Might be kind of hard to explain when people ask what my daughter is studying.
DAUGHTER: It's a degree in Humanities, Mom, but you major in Peace and Conflict studies. Didn't you say you want me to do something in life that uses my intelligence?
ME: (guilty) I guess I'm okay with whatever you choose as long as it's something that makes you happy.
DAUGHTER: (exasperated) Mom, stop holding out for me to be a lawyer, okay? I'm not going to be a lawyer so stop making me want to be one!!!
ME: (confused)Huh?

Did anyone hear me say I want her to be a lawyer?! I didn't know that "As long as it's something that makes you happy" translates into, "Get your head straight on, and find a college major that will land you a real job like being a lawyer. " Anyway, a week later, my daughter declared Anthropology as her major. She'll be digging for fossils in Africa while she lives in a tent. Could be a real job. I think. Besides since I'm only paying for her college and not going to college myself that's all I'm entitled to say on that topic

Then there's my conversation with my son. Background: talking is not his strongest suit. I mean, I'm doing well if I get more than one syllable from him. Seriously! Anyway, he's a sophomore in high school, and his sister's friend who's a senior asked him to be her date to Homecoming. He said he's going to think about it. This is me checking on his plans because Moms do that kind of thing, right?

ME: So are you going to Homecoming with R?
SON: I don't know.
ME: It will be rude not to let her know soon.
SON: I guess.
ME: Well, would you rather go with another girl?
SON: No.
ME: Is there a girl you like you have not told me about?
SON: No.
ME: You don't like any girl?
SON: Mom, I'm not gay, okay? Sheesh!
ME: Ah--b- wha--huh?

So apparently, I said "You're 16 and you're not interested in any girl. Are you by chance gay?" without saying it at all! How does that work?

I guess I suck at communicating with my kids. How does that happen to someone with a Bachelors degree in Communication? Could it be because despite my college degree I don't really remember attending a class called "Teen-ager-ish as a Second Language"? Sigh. I swear I was doing great at this parenting gig until the kids hit middle school, when all of a sudden they turned into aliens and things got confusing to me. Dang! I've never done anything harder than mothering teen-agers.

BUT for what it's worth, I have a feeling that although I don't talk the talk they're still listening somehow. I say that because they live like they do. They sometimes argue and disagree with my insistence that they behave a certain way. But when it comes down to it they are obedient, and do as they're told. They stay out of trouble. They do great in school. Authority figures love them. They act like they love me and their Dad. So they have to be listening to me, right? They may oftentimes act disinterested in my "wisdom" but they can't follow rules they've never heard before. So we might not have the prettiest, warm and fuzzy way of talking to one another, but they listen. In fact, maybe they are listening to me so well that they're even hearing the things I don't say.

It could be because my thoughts are louder than my words. They probably watch my facial expressions for clues on what's in my head because they actually care about what I think and whether I approve of what they do or not. They do that because even when they think they don't need my approval, deep down maybe they do. So they watch, they listen, they interpret and they call me on my thoughts. Thoughts that say, "I'm judging you. I don't get you. I'm doubting you. I am not as supportive of you as I say I am."

If I really want to be better at parenting I need to watch not only what I say, but what I think. I need to be a good, supportive, non-judgmental person inside out. I need to be a good Mom not only because that's a worthy desire, but because I am trying to be a truly good person inside. Maybe next time when I think a thought nothing will be lost in translation when I speak.

How about you? What is your secret to effective communication with your kids? Is your message clear or do you lose the message somewhere during the conversation?

Halloween Through The Years

It used to be that Halloween has the effect of bringing out the domestic goddess in me. My kids loved this holiday so much when they were younger that as a "good Mom" there were years I did my best to overcome my arts & crafts phobia and made my kids Halloween costumes. Yes, as in operate a sewing machine, thread a needle and sew! I can see my friends looking at me like, "You?" Yes, me. What's so unbelievable about that? Just because my sewing machine is now collecting dust in the closet in the guest room doesn't mean I don't know how to use it. I actually have pretty decent skills when I'm motivated. Back then my babies' innocent expectations and faith in their Mommy's super powers were motivation enough. I did not make their costumes every year, but I did it enough years to make my kids think I was the best Mom ever.

Sigh. Simple times.

Back then I enjoyed seeing the excitement on my kids' faces as they waited for me to finish sewing and the celebration when the costumes turned out fabulous. I loved how they wanted to keep their costumes after Halloween to play dress up with. There were even years I was extra domestic and had full-on Halloween decorations at home. I had Halloween projects for them including pumpkin carving, painting and decoration. Those years hold my fondest memories of being a Mom to my babies. Memories forever etched in my heart.

Now my babies are teenagers and they still like Halloween but it's not quite the same. Now a days it's just another excuse to party with friends. And Mommy gets the enviable assignment of staying home and giving out candy to trick-or-treaters. Holidays like this make me miss days of Halloween-past, and a little envious of Moms with little ones. But I know there is a season for everything and I'm in a different season now. I'm just really grateful that I can look back on my past seasons and know I did my best at each stage of mommy-hood. I hope someday the prince and the princess will remember all I did and still think I was their very own Super Mom.

Here are some photos of past Halloweens, with my kids in the costumes I made myself.

Peter Pan and Tinkerbell for AJ's very first Halloween:

Princess Jasmine and Prince Ali from Disney's Alladin:

Esmeralda and Phoebus from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame:

This particular year AJ was a generic pirate and Tara was Megara from Disney's "Hercules":

Tara was Medusa from Greek mythology and AJ was the Ghost of Frankenstein:

Lucky for me, it's not such a big deal to mess up on Halloween costumes. My mistakes kind of just became part of the "scary" effect :-) HOW ABOUT YOU? What Halloween crafts and creations are you proud of? What do your kids enjoy the most doing with you during Halloween season?

Sunshine In My Soul

My husband considers me a low-maintenance wife. Honest! He says it's because it really doesn't take much to make me happy. He oftentimes tells me how he loves how my face beams like a little girl when I am excited about getting things I want even if those things in themselves are unspectacular to others. He says he loves the way I giggle with delight over the most unexpected sources of joy. And it's true. For some reason, I seem to have been blessed and gifted with the ability to find joys in the simple little things in life.

You see I am not really "Grumpy". That nickname is just a reference to that picture on my blog of me in angel costume when I was 3. But that's not really who I am or who I grew up to be. In fact, my family thinks the adult version of that little grumpy angel should be called "Bratty Angel". But a happy one. "Happy Bratty Angel", however, doesn't sound as good as "Little Grumpy Angel" for a blog title, does it? But I digress...

So back to ME and my simple joys. Well, Friday I had one and almost missed it. All my favorite blogs are on my blog dashboard, and Bloggers Annex as you notice on my sidebar is one of my favorite places to visit. That's where the bloggers who I think are the best writers in BlogLand "congregate". I wrote about this site awhile back here. Originally, I just wanted to read and enjoy the works of writers who I find are incredibly gifted. I became a regular '"commenter" on some of my favorite Bloggers Annex blogs, and some of the writers are kind and nice and visit my blog, too. It's probably oft times excruciating for them to read my mundane posts, but they are as kind and supportive as they are talented. A couple of weeks ago the Annex people called for more participation from members and I got brave enough to submit one of the little poems I've written. I thought it will probably never see the light of day, but what the hay. So Friday, a new post on Bloggers Annex rolled to the top of my Blogs-I-Follow list on my dashboard. It was titled, "Daydreams." I decided to just read it later because I like reading the Annex posts when I have time to enjoy them and not be rushed through the experience. I never got around to it Friday. Then Saturday morning I opened my personal e-mail and there were e-mails about my post on Bloggers Annex. I was confused. What post? Then bam! It hit me. "Daydreams" was the title of the poem I submitted. Holy crap! So I went to the Annex and there it was. My poem! Posted on Friday. I was like, "It was good enough?????? It was good enough!!!!!" Sorry for all the punctuations, but oh, my word! I'm legit! I'm a REAL Bloggers Annex member. I know, I know, it's not the lottery or the Pulitzer prize...but it was an unexpected honor. It was sunshine in my soul today. An insignificant accomplishment to others but a really big deal to me. Simple joys.

So if you saw me today (Saturday) you probably noticed the cheesy little smile I had all day. My husband surely noticed. He said, "You seem really pleased about it, huh?" I smiled and he smiled and hugged me. Then he said, "If you don't mind I invited my friend and his wife over to our house for dinner. They'll be here in less than 2 hours." What the ---- well, even that didn't wipe the smile off my face. Almost. But not quite. I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off tidying up the house and ordering take out for dinner (no time to cook!) still with a smile on my face. After doing that to me, my husband was very lucky Bloggers Annex made my day. I maybe a low maintenance wife, but there are things a husband should not do. So to the anonymous folks behind Bloggers Annex, my husband thanks you. And I do, too.

So family, friends, blog pals, and even lurkers if you don't mind giving me a little more sunshine, please click the button below to go see my poem, and if you like leave me a comment over there, too, so they won't think I'm a big fat loser and not publish me the next time I'm once again brave enough to submit another post :-) And thanks for doing that!

Fear and Preparation

Scary times.

There's carnage on Wall Street. Fear and trembling on Main Street.

My little corner of the world has not been spared. Heads are rolling. They don't call it the guillotine. They call it "re-structuring". Sounds harmless, but how come it feels like mass murder?

First to fall were some of the big boys and big girls. The demi-gods on Mt.Olympus with capitalized abbreviations for job titles. I wasn't too affected. They were just names on memos and on the corporate directory.

And then they started off-ing the Area Vice Presidents. I gasped. Mine was one of them. Great guy. One of those whose nod and "Good job!" meant something to me. I honestly will miss him. I'm still bummed out and that was two weeks ago.

Then this week they started "restructuring" the corporate level managers. Holy cow! was all a colleague could say when we received the announcement via e-mail. I felt chills down my spine as I sat in front of my computer at work. This is getting too close. That's only one layer above me. I actually know these people. A couple of them are even my friends. This hurts a little more.

So who's next? Me? Is my level of area managers the next one to be examined for fat trimming? I think I have a little more sympathy now for the innocent defendant waiting for the jury's verdict. It's not the happiest place to be. And I am not even accused of any crime. I just happen to live and work during troubled times. Wrong place, wrong time.

My friends among the people in the level below say I've got nothing to worry about. The powers that be love me. Hmm. Last time I checked the powers that be who love me had been beheaded and sent away in coffins covered with pink slips. Those that survived are too worried about their own sweet buns to care about saving me.

My coping mechanism is starting to get in gear and telling me not to worry about something I cannot possibly control. Often during troubled times I fall back on one simple phrase, "Peace. Be still." It's always been my steady rock to hold on to. Yet in the back of my mind I am taking inventory of how prepared I am for disaster. I have a family to think of.

Food storage? Check! Um, well maybe I'm being dramatic. It's probably never coming to that, but if it does, well, dang! I've never even tried that dried stuff in cans gathering dust in the pantry. I only bought them because I am supposed to. Funny how the threat of hardship humbles you and put things in perspective and lessons finally sink through the layer of arrogance or indifference around one's heart.

What else? What else can I do to prepare? Jan at "Crazy Lady on Road 80" posted about this earlier this week. I found it very helpful if you want to check it out. I've picked up a couple of things from her and from the comments she got that I already implemented. Even if you don't care for this topic go check her out anyway. I actually just recently found her and if you are looking for a gem in Blogworld, that's where you find it.

An old boss e-mailed me yesterday and said, "During times like this, laughter is key..." I found laughter this week. Whoever blogs at "Seriously So Blessed" is brilliance personified. Her take on the "economies" on this post had me laughing my head off. But before you go you must first look up the meaning of "satire" and you MUST go with a sense of humor. Some of the comments can be blasphemous but the author never is. She's simply brilliantly funny. Who would have believed that a fake Mormon princess of the dingbat variety has the wisest advise on the internet about the "economies"?

I hope things don't get so dire that I will actually need what little we have in food storage. I hope the bail-out works. Those who are against it, I hope you know that as much as you want to punish the stupid greedy people who caused this disaster, you must also think about the collateral damage to a meltdown in the financial system. That would be the workers of America, your husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, friends and your neighbors who will lose jobs if this isn't fixed. And if this isn't fixed for a while, then there will more scary times. Sad times. So maybe even if you didn't support it you can at least hope with me that it will work.

Frugal living, disaster preparedness and humor. Shield and armor during these times. How about you? How do you cope with the possibility of a disaster? What are you doing to prepare besides praying (which is the obvious recourse)? What is your plan of survival should the plague enter your door? I want to know. I want to learn from you.

Homeboys

One of my biggest worries as a Mom was and is the kind of friends my kids will surround themselves with during their adolescent years. I read somewhere that sometimes parents overestimate their influence on their children during these critical years. The truth is, I remember the author saying, that parents are at the height of their irrelevance during this time. The most influential people to teen-agers are their peers. We can battle with them, ground them, butt heads with them, but the fact remains that at this age, if they are normal kids, they are more likely to value their friends' opinion more than their parents'. Hence, the importance of laying down a good foundation from infancy through their pre-adolescence that could be their anchor in the age of turbulence, and the paramount importance of our kids choosing good friends during their teen age years.

Here is a picture of my son and his homies during his birthday party. He only wanted to invite these 7 boys to celebrate the day with him, and all 7 came. It's a very tight-knit crowd. Some of these boys he met when he was in football, and some are members of his amateur rock band since middle school.

From AJ's Birthday

I am very relieved and very proud of my son for choosing to surround himself with good friends. I'm not sure if Utah LDS Moms would neccesarily agree, but I think that for non-Utah parents, raising kids outside the protective church bubble adds another layer to the challenge of raising teen-agers. For one, it doesn't matter what crowd your kids belong to in high school in Utah, they will still most likely end up in a crowd that's predominantly LDS. Not so with kids raised outside of Utah. They are more likely to have friends who are of a different belief system and have different values. And how can I fault them for choosing non-LDS friends when I also try to teach them to be open-minded and have appreciation for diversity?

So very fortunately for us (knock on wood!), our son found good friends who may not share his religion but share his values and standards. And it actually has not been a difficult thing to do. After all, good hearts and high standards are not the monopoly of Mormons. There are actually oodles of non-LDS families out there with good Christian values and raising their kids to be good people, and we are blessed that our son found friends from such families. These boys pictured above with my son are good, delightful boys. Some of them are athletes, some are music-minded, but all are good students, and good boys from good families.

We saw our daughter make it through the land mine called high school and come out well-rounded and well-adjusted. I know the jury is still out as she still has her life ahead of her, but so far so good and we hope the same for her brother. We'd like to think that we did it mostly by laying a good foundation for them in our home. But sometimes when I see troubled kids, especially troubled LDS kids then I think maybe we are just lucky.

How about you? What challenges did you face or are facing with your kids' choice of friends? Do you think kids should be allowed to become close friends with those who are not of the same religion or value system?

(Here are more pics of AJ and his home boys from the birthday party. Enjoy! )

My Baby Boy Is 16!

(After writing such an emotional post on my daughter's birthday just 4 days ago I was contemplating writing a lighter post for my son's birthday. Then I decided to stop thinking in terms of blogs and what would be appealing to readers. It seems I am in danger of getting caught up in the blogging game that I forget to be ME on my own blog. So I decided that for my son's 16th birthday I will write what's in my heart just like I did for my daughter's. This post is for him.)

My son AJ is a literal answer to my prayers.

Before AJ's birth, Heavenly Father gave me two precious gifts. He sent me Christopher to make me a mother, a son to borrow and enjoy for a time until He called him back for a higher mission in heaven. Then he sent me Tara to be my angel, to let me see joy through my tears, and to fill my heart with love so I would not always feel the empty spot Christopher left behind. Both my Christopher and Tara, were heavenly presents from a loving heavenly father, sent down to help me fulfill my call to motherhood, precious eternal gifts given to me tenderly and freely.

But AJ, I had to beg for.

He wasn't an unexpected, delightful treasure like those given by generous friends and family on one's birthday or special occasions. Rather, AJ was a precious gem at the store window that I wanted and desperately desired. I longingly stood by that window and I begged with all my heart and pleaded in tears until it was given to me by a kind and merciful Father.

When there were indications that due to health reasons my baby after Tara would be my last baby, I went to Heavenly Father and asked him to give me a son. Not to replace Christopher because that can never be, but because I wanted a son here on earth to keep. Although my daughter has made me whole again and she will be my friend and comfort, I also wanted the blessing of a son to be my pillar of strength during my mortal days. I cannot fully explain why this is so important to me. It just is. I even imagine now and again that when mortality comes to a close, my son on earth, AJ, will be there to hand me through the veil into the arms of my son in heaven, Christopher. So more than 16 years ago I knelt before my Heavenly Father and told him my desire. I told him I do not understand for what higher purpose he took my first son, but I would find comfort and reassurance if he sends another great spirit to be what a son should be to me here on earth. I begged with all my strength and I pleaded like a child. He heard me. He had mercy on me. He gave me AJ.

Today AJ is sixteen years old, and my heart is full with indescribable emotions. Heavenly Father heard my prayers. He did not give me just any son, but a most wonderful boy any Mom would be proud to have. Perhaps because AJ was born in my heart before he was formed in my womb I have always had a special bond with him. I remember many quiet nights when he was a baby. After I fed him, I would cuddle him in my arms and talk softly to him about my gratitude for having him in my life and for my hopes for him. He would stare back at me quietly, and then he would smile, and he'd gurgle and coo as if to tell me he knew what I was saying. Then I would kiss him and just look at him for a long time. I knew then that AJ and I would always have this bond that will allow us to communicate wordlessly with our hearts. That has been true his entire childhood. Somehow I just always knew what AJ needs and how he feels. And AJ always seems to know how to reach me and talk directly to my heart in wordless ways.

Now that he is a teen-ager I still have that bond with him, despite the occasional static interference of adolescense. I guess it's natural that now that he is at the threshold of manhood he identifies with his Dad and is closer to him. But I still feel the eternal connection I have with him stronger than ever.

The kind of young man AJ is makes me happy, gives me a smile and makes me incredibly proud to be his Mom. Heavenly Father blessed me with a son just as I asked. He granted me a gift, but he also gave him to me beautifully gift wrapped and perfectly packaged. A son who stands above the crowd; tall, handsome, gifted, talented, and best of all blessed with a good and obedient heart. Today AJ is sixteen, and I am back on my knees before my Heavenly Father. This time not to beg, but to give thanks for his kindness and mercy for giving me-- his inadequate and imperfect handmaiden--- this most precious of treasures to keep.

Happy 16th Birthday, Jay-jax!

Prison Versus Work

Somebody at work sent this to me and I find it amusing if not thought-provoking so I'm sharing.

Just in case you ever get these two environments mixed up, this comparison chart should make things a little bit clearer:

@ PRISON You spend most of your time in a 10X10 cell
@ WORK You spend most of your time in a 6X6 cubicle

@ PRISON You get three fully paid for meals a day
@ WORK You get a break for one meal, and you have to pay for it

@ PRISON For good behavior, you get time off
@ WORK For good behavior, you get more work

@ PRISON The guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you
@ WORK You must carry a security card and open all the doors yourself

@ PRISON You can watch TV and play games
@ WORK You could get fired for watchingTV and playing games

@ PRISON You get your own toilet
@ WORK You have to share the toilet with people who pee on the seat

@ PRISON They allow your family and friends to visit
@ WORK You aren't even supposedto speak to your family

@ PRISON All expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required on your part
@ WORK You must pay all your expenses to go to work, and they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners

@ PRISON You spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out
@ WORK You spend most of your time wantingto get out and go inside bars

@ PRISON You must deal with sadistic wardens
@ WORK They are called 'managers'

THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.
Now get back to work. You're not getting paid to read blogs!!!!

Blessed By An Angel

(I don't think I have opened up my heart this wide in the last 18 years. Not even to close family members, except my husband. More often than not, I deal with life's difficulties by either being aloof or being silly; concealing my heart to keep it safe. But today I take a risk. I want the world to know how much my angel means to me and why.)

She Is 18 Today!

To open this post by saying that Tara was sent to us from heaven to restore light into our dark world, to mend our broken hearts, and to help us find hope at the bottom of Pandora's box might seem just a little over dramatic to some people. But those who know us and the events before Tara's birth, will agree that this is in fact a major understatement. Tara arrived in our life at the end of an annus horribilis. She was born just 10 months after my world crumbled when her almost 3 year old brother, our first child Christopher, passed away due to "undetermined natural causes". As if that devastation was not enough in itself, 6 months before her birth my grandfather, a man I deeply honored and respected , died from cancer; followed 4 months later by my beloved father who also battled and lost to cancer. Then a couple of months before Tara's birth our young niece Asleigh was diagnosed with a brain tumor which eventually took her life.

After going through all these, the mother who waited for Tara's birth was a mother who had cried so many tears her heart had dried up. She was a mother who was scared to love the baby in her womb for it seemed everyone she loved was taken. How could she be excited for the birth of this child in the midst of death? How could she possibly love this baby now that she knows love can be lost to life's tragedies and that heaven could rip her heart open anytime? I was that mother. A mother whose spirit was weighted down by a heavy and broken heart. My body eventually could not cope with my deep anguish and I came down with a severe case of mononucleosis during my pregnancy. My husband was there to take care of me, to comfort me and be my strength but many times when I looked at him I saw only grief for the loss of our son in the lines of his face. So there were nights I laid down thinking how unfair for this child to come into a world of broken hearts and broken spirits. How unfair to be born into a world of darkness and tears. Why God? Why send her to me now?

The answer I found was because heavenly father knew that for me and for Tara's Dad to be on the path of healing, emotionally and spiritually, we needed an angel in our life. Tara was not born into a world of darkness because she was born with her own light which illuminated the lives she touched. The moment we heard Tara's first cry the dark clouds shrouding our life were lifted and the million broken pieces of our hearts were put back together and mended. An angel daughter was sent to us, and the moment she was placed next to my heart I knew that she filled my emptiness and I would love her without fear. I remember crying as they whisked her away so they could finish with my surgery. I remember the nurse patting my cheek and gently telling me that it was okay because they will be done soon and it will be over. But I wasn't crying because of physical pain. I was crying because I felt happy, a feeling I had not felt for a while and thought would never feel again. Tara, my angel brought that feeling back, and I was crying because I was overwhelmed.

Right now as I write this I am crying again. With mixed but mostly happy emotions. Our angel is now 18. It seems to me only yesterday when family members came to visit us in the hospital after her birth that the same sad faces that used to surround me were now faces of joy. It seems only yesterday that I looked over at Tara's Dad holding our new born in his arms, and saw peace, relief and pure joy in his face and a deep love for his daughter in his eyes. And now here she is, our angel of light and restoration, now 18 years old and slipping away into adulthood. Please forgive me for the sappiness of this post, but my heart is full today.

We have not been perfect parents to Tara, that's for sure. But this we know, we have always been grateful for her, we have always recognized she is heavenly father's gift to us, and we treasure her forever. Perhaps because of what she means to us that we might have "spoiled" our only daughter a bit. Perhaps we have been indulgent. But then also perhaps through the years, now and again, we might have forgotten she is an angel, and treated her less than she should be treated. But inspite our shortcomings just look at what a wonderful young woman she has become. A daughter blessed with a tender heart, as well as beauty, intelligence and a passion for life. An angel with an angel's voice and love for music who fills our home with song. My hope for her on this special day is that despite the imperfections of her parents, she will always remember who she is and live so that someday she can be worthy to stand before the loving Father who sent her to us.

Happy 18th birthday to our precious Angel Girl!