MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity - Collage - Morph
Monday, September 29, 2008
Forgot
The past couple of weeks, my parents have come to visit me and my family. Both times they brought fresh tomatoes from their garden. We went and got some bacon at the store to celebrate with the wonderfully amazing sandwitch, THE BLT!!! Honestly, whoever came up with that had his head on strait.
While I was growing up, my parents never bought tomatoes at the store, since we grew at least 2 rows of them in the huge garden in the backyard. That next to the 5 rows of corn and whatever else suited our fancy. I insisted that we try watermelon one year, and they didn't get very big. In any case, up until I had gotten married and moved out of the house and started to try to eat better, I had never in my life had store bought tomatoes. Or at least known that I had.
After I got married and had tomatoes from the store I thought nothing of it. Then my parents came up with their tomatoes. And honestly, I didn't need to put salt on them! They are SO GOOD!!! I don't know how I'll go back to store bought tomatoes after this. I didn't notice a difference between the two until I went back to the fresh. I was shocked. They are so good I could just wash them off and eat them like an apple.
We just finished a dinner of BLT's again, and oh, my..... SO GOOD!!! I am definately growing tomatoes in a pot out back next year. I don't know if I will ever go a year without growing tomatoes now.
While I was growing up, my parents never bought tomatoes at the store, since we grew at least 2 rows of them in the huge garden in the backyard. That next to the 5 rows of corn and whatever else suited our fancy. I insisted that we try watermelon one year, and they didn't get very big. In any case, up until I had gotten married and moved out of the house and started to try to eat better, I had never in my life had store bought tomatoes. Or at least known that I had.
After I got married and had tomatoes from the store I thought nothing of it. Then my parents came up with their tomatoes. And honestly, I didn't need to put salt on them! They are SO GOOD!!! I don't know how I'll go back to store bought tomatoes after this. I didn't notice a difference between the two until I went back to the fresh. I was shocked. They are so good I could just wash them off and eat them like an apple.
We just finished a dinner of BLT's again, and oh, my..... SO GOOD!!! I am definately growing tomatoes in a pot out back next year. I don't know if I will ever go a year without growing tomatoes now.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
New doo
So, Texas Mom pointed out that I forgot to announce something, but I don't think anyone will particularly care or whatever. I got a new doo. The works. Shorter then I have ever had it before, highlights, first time in a saloon... Yeah, the works. It only cost me $30 bucks thanks to the cosmetologist in my ward. Lemme see if I can find some pics on my computer with my new doo...
Before cut and a cute picture to boot...
After the cut at my 5 year class reunion with a friend
Not my favorite pic, but it shows the cut nicely... Well, kind of nicely... I had it pulled back as best I could. I think it looks a little better down like in the other pictures only they are more far away.
And last but not least, a fun picture with me and my hot high school friends. Only one was missing and we all missed her.
Before cut and a cute picture to boot...
After the cut at my 5 year class reunion with a friend
Not my favorite pic, but it shows the cut nicely... Well, kind of nicely... I had it pulled back as best I could. I think it looks a little better down like in the other pictures only they are more far away.
And last but not least, a fun picture with me and my hot high school friends. Only one was missing and we all missed her.
Story about the bald frog and the wig
So yeah, if you look at my profile, I answered the random question, and they didn't give me enough room to answer it, so I thought I'd put it here. Anyway... to the story...
Once upon a time, a handsome prince was turned into a frog by an evil witch. Since frogs don't have hair, the prince lost all his hair when he turned into the frog. He was so conscious about it, and knew he couldn't get a princess to kiss him without his hair, that he went to the frog elder and asked for a wig.
The frog elder first made him do a quest to get his wig. He had to travel to the witch's warehouse to get the secret ingredient that made her turn princes into frogs. He was really scared of that witch, but he needed his wig to get a princess to kiss him, so he set off.
(to make a long story short) He got to the witch's warehouse and started to look for the special ingredient, and as he was doing so, he found the witch's journal. The witch has a journal you may ask? Well, that is what the bald frog thought too, so he started to read.
The witch was once a beautiful princess. She was kicked out of her kingdom by an evil sorceress who envied her beauty. She was exiled to the forest where she dwells now on the eve of her wedding night to a handsome prince. She has been pining after him ever since, and since she couldn't have her handsome prince, she found out how to turn them into frogs so no one else could have a handsome prince. She also never got out of the habit of writing in her journal, and that is why she has one.
Thankfully the prince read her journal, because it is the only place where she keeps the knowledge of where she keeps the secret ingredient. He read that and found out where to go to get the secret ingredient. In the witch's room. She had been sleeping since he arrived at her warehouse, and he now had to sneak into her room while she was asleep and get the secret ingredient.
He hopped into her room and was shocked to see it decorated as a princess' room. Why would an evil witch sleep in such a beautiful room? He saw the witch laying in her bed and a little shiver ran down his little spine. He remembered his much needed wig, and hopped to the hiding place for the secret ingredient. In the witch's nightstand. He got to the nightstand, and slid open the drawer as slowly as he could with his mouth, then the witch stirred... the bald frog froze. Was the witch waking?
You'll have to wait for that question to be answered...
Once upon a time, a handsome prince was turned into a frog by an evil witch. Since frogs don't have hair, the prince lost all his hair when he turned into the frog. He was so conscious about it, and knew he couldn't get a princess to kiss him without his hair, that he went to the frog elder and asked for a wig.
The frog elder first made him do a quest to get his wig. He had to travel to the witch's warehouse to get the secret ingredient that made her turn princes into frogs. He was really scared of that witch, but he needed his wig to get a princess to kiss him, so he set off.
(to make a long story short) He got to the witch's warehouse and started to look for the special ingredient, and as he was doing so, he found the witch's journal. The witch has a journal you may ask? Well, that is what the bald frog thought too, so he started to read.
The witch was once a beautiful princess. She was kicked out of her kingdom by an evil sorceress who envied her beauty. She was exiled to the forest where she dwells now on the eve of her wedding night to a handsome prince. She has been pining after him ever since, and since she couldn't have her handsome prince, she found out how to turn them into frogs so no one else could have a handsome prince. She also never got out of the habit of writing in her journal, and that is why she has one.
Thankfully the prince read her journal, because it is the only place where she keeps the knowledge of where she keeps the secret ingredient. He read that and found out where to go to get the secret ingredient. In the witch's room. She had been sleeping since he arrived at her warehouse, and he now had to sneak into her room while she was asleep and get the secret ingredient.
He hopped into her room and was shocked to see it decorated as a princess' room. Why would an evil witch sleep in such a beautiful room? He saw the witch laying in her bed and a little shiver ran down his little spine. He remembered his much needed wig, and hopped to the hiding place for the secret ingredient. In the witch's nightstand. He got to the nightstand, and slid open the drawer as slowly as he could with his mouth, then the witch stirred... the bald frog froze. Was the witch waking?
You'll have to wait for that question to be answered...
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Story writing
As a lot of my family knows, I am writing a story. Right now I am enjoying writing and invisioning how I would draw the pictures (cause it is actually a manga) and not really sure if I'll do anything with it. I'm having friends and family read it, but that is about it.
In any case, when I first started with it, I had a dream about the three main characters and how they met. I loved the dream so much that I didn't want to wake up, and when I did, I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget. I have been writing since. The weirdest thing about this story is that I don't even know what is going to happen in the next chapter. I just keep writing and the characters tell it for themselves. There have been at least three times in my writing where the characters cause a "gut-renching" thing. Either from their own stupidity, or just the fact that something happens in the story that is really moving and makes you want to keep reading. Those parts are the hardest to write.
I remember one time where one of the main characters did a very stupid thing. My hands hovered over the keys, not wanting to write it, but knew there wasn't any other way. That happened with another main character (the main characters are only teen-agers so they have the right to make stupid mistakes. Didn't we all when we were teens?) did a stupid thing. I didn't want to write it but yet there was no other way.
I just wrote a section that was harder then either of those. I'm not sure if it will be in the story because it is a different person's view then the main character, but I needed to know what would happen. While I was writing this, my hands were shaking and that made it hard enough as it was, but yet my heart was beating so wildly, it was really hard to write. It was one of those pivotal moments where everything just seems to fall down and get so dark, because sometimes you have to see the darkness before you can appreciate the light. After I wrote it, I laid on the couch and rocked myself back and forth...yeah, kind of sad huh? It was that horrible of a thing to write about. There just wasn't any other way, and if I would have found another way, it wouldn't have worked quite as well.
Anyway, just wanted to get that out.
My story is now 113 pages and 17 chapters not counting the section I just wrote that may or not be in the story. Well, what I mean is it will happen, but I'm not sure if it will be written that same way, since it is in a different viewpoint.
In any case, when I first started with it, I had a dream about the three main characters and how they met. I loved the dream so much that I didn't want to wake up, and when I did, I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget. I have been writing since. The weirdest thing about this story is that I don't even know what is going to happen in the next chapter. I just keep writing and the characters tell it for themselves. There have been at least three times in my writing where the characters cause a "gut-renching" thing. Either from their own stupidity, or just the fact that something happens in the story that is really moving and makes you want to keep reading. Those parts are the hardest to write.
I remember one time where one of the main characters did a very stupid thing. My hands hovered over the keys, not wanting to write it, but knew there wasn't any other way. That happened with another main character (the main characters are only teen-agers so they have the right to make stupid mistakes. Didn't we all when we were teens?) did a stupid thing. I didn't want to write it but yet there was no other way.
I just wrote a section that was harder then either of those. I'm not sure if it will be in the story because it is a different person's view then the main character, but I needed to know what would happen. While I was writing this, my hands were shaking and that made it hard enough as it was, but yet my heart was beating so wildly, it was really hard to write. It was one of those pivotal moments where everything just seems to fall down and get so dark, because sometimes you have to see the darkness before you can appreciate the light. After I wrote it, I laid on the couch and rocked myself back and forth...yeah, kind of sad huh? It was that horrible of a thing to write about. There just wasn't any other way, and if I would have found another way, it wouldn't have worked quite as well.
Anyway, just wanted to get that out.
My story is now 113 pages and 17 chapters not counting the section I just wrote that may or not be in the story. Well, what I mean is it will happen, but I'm not sure if it will be written that same way, since it is in a different viewpoint.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sunday morning blues.....are GONE!!!
We have been having a hard time since our ward changed times. Bug likes to sleep in. Which is good on like a Saturday morning or something, but not quite so great for Sunday morning when church starts at 9:30 and I have to get to church on time cause I'm the ward chorister. Our ward changed times the first Sunday in August casue we live in a student ward and it changes different then everyone elses.
Since Rocket Scientist is working graveyard, on the weekends when he doesn't work, he has to keep up his schedule, so he stays up all night. He can get ready for church while we are all asleep. He did that today cause we had to go early for a choir rehearsal. He forced me awake, and I got in the shower wondering what we were going to do today to get Bug up and ready for the day. Keeping in mind that Bug insists especially on Sunday for some reason that I dress him. It isn't very helpful for any of us cause Rocket Scientist is already ready and I still need to get dressed and put together. Rocket Scientist is the perfect person to get Bug ready, but the past month or so, Bug throws a fit whenever Rocket Scientist tries to do anything for him.
Surprisingly enough, after Bug came wandering through the door rubbing his eyes (he is kind of like me when it comes to waking up...) we actually got him eating his food without too much trauma. It was after that when the real test was to come. I was still putting on make up and I still needed to do my hair when Bug was eating. I was trying to get all the things done that I'm still learning how to do (blow-dryer... make-up... jewelry... things girls usually learn when they are a teenager but at the time when I was a tom-boy...) and do it fast. After Bug was done eating, I was surprised he let Rocket Scientist change his diaper. But he insisted that I dress him. I wouldn't stand for it. I was still trying to do my hair and I needed to brush my teeth as well. This was around 15 mins. before we had to leave. Bug was running away from Rocket Scientist cause he wanted me to dress him. Then the wonderful idea came to me...
Rocket Scientist and Bug love to play "hide and seek" in the house. They chase each-other around and have a wonderful time. I love watching them. And I thought... why not do it with clothes in your hand? I told Rocket Scientist to make a game out of it, and he caught on to my idea in a flash. He chased after Bug and got the rest of his onesie on (the snaps on the bottom) and Bug fussed and wined and came running to me. I gave him a quick hug and he saw Rocket Scientist running past in a come-get-me way, and Bug knew that run. I put him down and Bug started chasing Rocket Scientist. The first couple of items of clothes he got on him Bug had to come back to me for a hug cause he was upset that Rocket Scientist got another item of clothing on, but eventually he caught on to the game. Instead of screaming and anger and frustration flying through the house, we heard laughter, and giggles, and love filling the darkest corner. I was so proud of myself, and hopefully (now that we figrued it out) Sunday mornings will be like this from now on, and not tantrum central.
Since Rocket Scientist is working graveyard, on the weekends when he doesn't work, he has to keep up his schedule, so he stays up all night. He can get ready for church while we are all asleep. He did that today cause we had to go early for a choir rehearsal. He forced me awake, and I got in the shower wondering what we were going to do today to get Bug up and ready for the day. Keeping in mind that Bug insists especially on Sunday for some reason that I dress him. It isn't very helpful for any of us cause Rocket Scientist is already ready and I still need to get dressed and put together. Rocket Scientist is the perfect person to get Bug ready, but the past month or so, Bug throws a fit whenever Rocket Scientist tries to do anything for him.
Surprisingly enough, after Bug came wandering through the door rubbing his eyes (he is kind of like me when it comes to waking up...) we actually got him eating his food without too much trauma. It was after that when the real test was to come. I was still putting on make up and I still needed to do my hair when Bug was eating. I was trying to get all the things done that I'm still learning how to do (blow-dryer... make-up... jewelry... things girls usually learn when they are a teenager but at the time when I was a tom-boy...) and do it fast. After Bug was done eating, I was surprised he let Rocket Scientist change his diaper. But he insisted that I dress him. I wouldn't stand for it. I was still trying to do my hair and I needed to brush my teeth as well. This was around 15 mins. before we had to leave. Bug was running away from Rocket Scientist cause he wanted me to dress him. Then the wonderful idea came to me...
Rocket Scientist and Bug love to play "hide and seek" in the house. They chase each-other around and have a wonderful time. I love watching them. And I thought... why not do it with clothes in your hand? I told Rocket Scientist to make a game out of it, and he caught on to my idea in a flash. He chased after Bug and got the rest of his onesie on (the snaps on the bottom) and Bug fussed and wined and came running to me. I gave him a quick hug and he saw Rocket Scientist running past in a come-get-me way, and Bug knew that run. I put him down and Bug started chasing Rocket Scientist. The first couple of items of clothes he got on him Bug had to come back to me for a hug cause he was upset that Rocket Scientist got another item of clothing on, but eventually he caught on to the game. Instead of screaming and anger and frustration flying through the house, we heard laughter, and giggles, and love filling the darkest corner. I was so proud of myself, and hopefully (now that we figrued it out) Sunday mornings will be like this from now on, and not tantrum central.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Receipts and fingers.
So, yesterday, we went to the store. Just Bug and me. I have two stories to share about the trip. Warning: LONG post coming your way. :)
Bug loves receipts. Once we go through the line, pay the money and get our receipt, if we don't give it to him...2 year old tantrum, coming your way... He enjoys holding the receipt more then picking out a special snack that if I don't get, he will throw a fit. Hopefully he won't learn that trick...but I doubt it.
Yesterday, after he got his precious receipt and we walked outside (without him in the cart, cause I left it in the store since I didn't have much stuff to worry about...) he had one hand holding mine, and the other hand was holding the receipt to his heart. I thought it was kind of weird. Usually, he would just hold it in between thumb and fingers. Why all the sudden would he start holding it against his chest? I had no idea. Then I realized something and to explain it to you all I guess this post has three stories in it...
One day (not yesterday) we went out of Smith's, and Bug has his precious receipt clutched in his little hands. It was a big shopping day so I needed to take the cart to my car to get everything out and Bug was getting a free ride in it. That day just happened to be really windy. A big gust came swooping down and flew the receipt right out of his hands. I was upset thinking he did it on purpose, and thanks to my upbringing I chased it trying to catch up with it so I wasn't littering. I didn't even realize Bug's distress. I wanted to find a spot to put the cart with Bug in it so that I could chase it without that load. I couldn't. At our particular Smith's, it is pretty much down hill throughout the parking lot. I wasn't in the mood to be looked at strangely chasing after a receipt pushing a cart and might not even be able to get it cause I can't bend down while my hand is holding the cart while I run anyway. In any case, I gave up. Sorry Dad. There is one more piece of litter hanging around the earth. I just couldn't get it with my lonesome self. When Bug realized I gave up...well, he just pretty much had a fit. I left his receipt to let it fly north in the hopes that someone else would pick it up and put it in the trash. He was distraught. I told him sorry but that I just couldn't keep up with it. I was surprised just how much he was upset about this.
Bug must have an amazing memory to remember that one devastating instance where he lost his receipt, and now he holds onto it tighter. Interesting... I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that I was in like...5 or 6 ensembles while I was pregnant with him, one of them being a Symphony Orchestra...
Bug likes to help. He has been learning how to open doors and he loves to close them. After we arrived at Smith's, I went back there, unbuckled him, and got out of the car just like any other day. I made sure the doors were locked and then told Bug to help me close the door, and if he has the inclination to help, I'm going to cultivate it. As both our hands were on the door I had the sudden thought that it would be possible for him to slam his fingers in the door. I was distracted by the fact that I hadn't thought of it before. And as I was thinking on this, Bug closed the door and I pushed a little to help it close all the way. His little thumb was kind of wrapped around the edge of the door, but once again, I didn't listen to my first thought of slamming fingers, and figured he would move it in time. Yup, you guessed it... he slammed his little thumb in the door.
I flipped. I tried to open it, but realized that I had locked it and already put my keys back in my purse. As he screamed and wailed (all the while a guy was behind us in the next parking spot thinking who knows what) I fumbled with my keys and tried to get it open as fast as I could. I forgot that on my particular car, if you hold the key in the unlock position long enough, it will unlock all the doors. I didn't remember that. My son was screaming and I didn't want to wait one or two seconds longer to get a door open. Little did I remember that it would have been faster that way cause our driver's seat door doesn't lock or unlock all the doors unless the door is closed or if the handle is pulled out. So... I finally had my door open, but it wasn't the door where the problem lied. I think I might have even tried to open his door after I had mine unlocked but not his. I pulled the handle out on the driver's side door and flipped the switch to unlock all the doors. Then I hurried as fast as I could to get his open.
My first look at his thumb all I saw was a big mass of red. "Blood!" I thought. I picked him up and gave him a big hug as I headed up to the store away from the scene of the crime. As I was walking and trying to console him, I tried to get a good look at his thumb, but his head was between mine and his thumb. I knew he would want me to kiss it and eventually he did. By this time we were in the store but in that opening area where the carts are stored and he was only whimpering. Such a big boy. By that time as well he was starting to ask for kisses. When he wants kisses he usually just puts his face in yours or whatever he wants kissed. I quickly realized to get a good look at it, I would have to hold his hand still, and I did. He is fine. Thankfully it was only the fleshy part of the thumb that was caught. No knuckles. He did have a red mark on his thumb and some skin had come off, but there was no blood. Whew... a load off my mind.
I felt kind of bad about the whole thing so I did end up getting some cheese crackers shaped like "Cars" characters. Something we don't usually get. Anyway, that was our eventful day yesterday.
First: Receipts
Bug loves receipts. Once we go through the line, pay the money and get our receipt, if we don't give it to him...2 year old tantrum, coming your way... He enjoys holding the receipt more then picking out a special snack that if I don't get, he will throw a fit. Hopefully he won't learn that trick...but I doubt it.
Yesterday, after he got his precious receipt and we walked outside (without him in the cart, cause I left it in the store since I didn't have much stuff to worry about...) he had one hand holding mine, and the other hand was holding the receipt to his heart. I thought it was kind of weird. Usually, he would just hold it in between thumb and fingers. Why all the sudden would he start holding it against his chest? I had no idea. Then I realized something and to explain it to you all I guess this post has three stories in it...
One day (not yesterday) we went out of Smith's, and Bug has his precious receipt clutched in his little hands. It was a big shopping day so I needed to take the cart to my car to get everything out and Bug was getting a free ride in it. That day just happened to be really windy. A big gust came swooping down and flew the receipt right out of his hands. I was upset thinking he did it on purpose, and thanks to my upbringing I chased it trying to catch up with it so I wasn't littering. I didn't even realize Bug's distress. I wanted to find a spot to put the cart with Bug in it so that I could chase it without that load. I couldn't. At our particular Smith's, it is pretty much down hill throughout the parking lot. I wasn't in the mood to be looked at strangely chasing after a receipt pushing a cart and might not even be able to get it cause I can't bend down while my hand is holding the cart while I run anyway. In any case, I gave up. Sorry Dad. There is one more piece of litter hanging around the earth. I just couldn't get it with my lonesome self. When Bug realized I gave up...well, he just pretty much had a fit. I left his receipt to let it fly north in the hopes that someone else would pick it up and put it in the trash. He was distraught. I told him sorry but that I just couldn't keep up with it. I was surprised just how much he was upset about this.
Bug must have an amazing memory to remember that one devastating instance where he lost his receipt, and now he holds onto it tighter. Interesting... I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that I was in like...5 or 6 ensembles while I was pregnant with him, one of them being a Symphony Orchestra...
Second story: Fingers
Bug likes to help. He has been learning how to open doors and he loves to close them. After we arrived at Smith's, I went back there, unbuckled him, and got out of the car just like any other day. I made sure the doors were locked and then told Bug to help me close the door, and if he has the inclination to help, I'm going to cultivate it. As both our hands were on the door I had the sudden thought that it would be possible for him to slam his fingers in the door. I was distracted by the fact that I hadn't thought of it before. And as I was thinking on this, Bug closed the door and I pushed a little to help it close all the way. His little thumb was kind of wrapped around the edge of the door, but once again, I didn't listen to my first thought of slamming fingers, and figured he would move it in time. Yup, you guessed it... he slammed his little thumb in the door.
I flipped. I tried to open it, but realized that I had locked it and already put my keys back in my purse. As he screamed and wailed (all the while a guy was behind us in the next parking spot thinking who knows what) I fumbled with my keys and tried to get it open as fast as I could. I forgot that on my particular car, if you hold the key in the unlock position long enough, it will unlock all the doors. I didn't remember that. My son was screaming and I didn't want to wait one or two seconds longer to get a door open. Little did I remember that it would have been faster that way cause our driver's seat door doesn't lock or unlock all the doors unless the door is closed or if the handle is pulled out. So... I finally had my door open, but it wasn't the door where the problem lied. I think I might have even tried to open his door after I had mine unlocked but not his. I pulled the handle out on the driver's side door and flipped the switch to unlock all the doors. Then I hurried as fast as I could to get his open.
My first look at his thumb all I saw was a big mass of red. "Blood!" I thought. I picked him up and gave him a big hug as I headed up to the store away from the scene of the crime. As I was walking and trying to console him, I tried to get a good look at his thumb, but his head was between mine and his thumb. I knew he would want me to kiss it and eventually he did. By this time we were in the store but in that opening area where the carts are stored and he was only whimpering. Such a big boy. By that time as well he was starting to ask for kisses. When he wants kisses he usually just puts his face in yours or whatever he wants kissed. I quickly realized to get a good look at it, I would have to hold his hand still, and I did. He is fine. Thankfully it was only the fleshy part of the thumb that was caught. No knuckles. He did have a red mark on his thumb and some skin had come off, but there was no blood. Whew... a load off my mind.
I felt kind of bad about the whole thing so I did end up getting some cheese crackers shaped like "Cars" characters. Something we don't usually get. Anyway, that was our eventful day yesterday.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Goosebump worthy video
Here's a video I just watched. It helped me out too... just thought I'd share it.
You know the feeling when you are in such emotional pain and you just need to get it out to feel better? Yeah, that is what this post is about.
This morning I got out of bed with an aching heart.
There are so many new babies in our ward. One of them just happens to be the child of the mother that Texas Mom noticed tended to be less then sensitive when she was up for Little Angel's funeral. I don't know what her deal is. I don't know if she wants to rub it in, or if she isn't "all there" sometimes. I don't know her story and I'm trying not to judge her. Quite a while ago I was filling out a spotlighting paper. She was sitting next to me. Then the question came up..."How many kids do you have?" I hesitated while my heart ached. I didn't know what to put. I hovered over that question for a while. Then this sister leaned over and said, kind of forcefully, "Write one." I tried to keep my act together while I mumbled some lame answer that I can't remember. I was so mad at her. How could she just say that?
Last Sunday was the first time she came to church with her new baby. I was kind of aching a little bit the whole day anyway, and I tried to avoid her, but whenever we were in close proximity I thought I acted the part of a I'm-happy-for-you person. I was holding myself together pretty well I thought. I knew I couldn't take holding her baby or even touching her. And thankfully whenever I was in close proximity to her, her baby was wrapped in one of those sling things, and I couldn't see it.
Church was over. I needed to talk to the bishop so I was sitting in front of his office. Then she came walking by. Her baby completely exposed. I put on my act again of being happy for her and that the birth went well. That was easy 'cause I was happy the birth went well. She stopped in front of me and "showed her baby off". I can't think of anyway else to say it. She flaunted her baby in front of me. (that works better...) I guess she wanted me to faun over her like everyone else, but I knew I couldn't take it without bursting into tears. And then she would probably be insensitive enough to say "What's wrong?"
I tried to brush it off as she left. Couldn't she even understand how that was equivalent to putting a knife through my heart and twisting it? She was always kind of that way, but I was able to brush it off. Nothing hurt me so deeply as that. Sure sometimes I am Ok and can hold babies and faun over them like everyone else. But there are bound to be those moments when...(sorry I'm in tears now.....) I just can't take it.
As she left she decided to twist the knife one last time as she said "She's my Little Angel". That's MY son's code name on my blog. She most likely doesn't know this, but still...
Little Angel will be turning one next month. Maybe that is why it is getting harder and harder to suppress the pain. Who knows what will happen on that day? I certainly don't. As far as Christmas went I was pretty Ok. But then I was still being carried by the Lord. He has set me down on my feet now and I'm not sure what I'll do. Will I crumple on the path and just start sobbing? Filled with too much pain to go on? I have no idea. But I hope I will always be worthy to have the Lord walking with me so he can carry me when the pain is too much.
And yes, I do feel better now that I got it out.
There are so many new babies in our ward. One of them just happens to be the child of the mother that Texas Mom noticed tended to be less then sensitive when she was up for Little Angel's funeral. I don't know what her deal is. I don't know if she wants to rub it in, or if she isn't "all there" sometimes. I don't know her story and I'm trying not to judge her. Quite a while ago I was filling out a spotlighting paper. She was sitting next to me. Then the question came up..."How many kids do you have?" I hesitated while my heart ached. I didn't know what to put. I hovered over that question for a while. Then this sister leaned over and said, kind of forcefully, "Write one." I tried to keep my act together while I mumbled some lame answer that I can't remember. I was so mad at her. How could she just say that?
Last Sunday was the first time she came to church with her new baby. I was kind of aching a little bit the whole day anyway, and I tried to avoid her, but whenever we were in close proximity I thought I acted the part of a I'm-happy-for-you person. I was holding myself together pretty well I thought. I knew I couldn't take holding her baby or even touching her. And thankfully whenever I was in close proximity to her, her baby was wrapped in one of those sling things, and I couldn't see it.
Church was over. I needed to talk to the bishop so I was sitting in front of his office. Then she came walking by. Her baby completely exposed. I put on my act again of being happy for her and that the birth went well. That was easy 'cause I was happy the birth went well. She stopped in front of me and "showed her baby off". I can't think of anyway else to say it. She flaunted her baby in front of me. (that works better...) I guess she wanted me to faun over her like everyone else, but I knew I couldn't take it without bursting into tears. And then she would probably be insensitive enough to say "What's wrong?"
I tried to brush it off as she left. Couldn't she even understand how that was equivalent to putting a knife through my heart and twisting it? She was always kind of that way, but I was able to brush it off. Nothing hurt me so deeply as that. Sure sometimes I am Ok and can hold babies and faun over them like everyone else. But there are bound to be those moments when...(sorry I'm in tears now.....) I just can't take it.
As she left she decided to twist the knife one last time as she said "She's my Little Angel". That's MY son's code name on my blog. She most likely doesn't know this, but still...
Little Angel will be turning one next month. Maybe that is why it is getting harder and harder to suppress the pain. Who knows what will happen on that day? I certainly don't. As far as Christmas went I was pretty Ok. But then I was still being carried by the Lord. He has set me down on my feet now and I'm not sure what I'll do. Will I crumple on the path and just start sobbing? Filled with too much pain to go on? I have no idea. But I hope I will always be worthy to have the Lord walking with me so he can carry me when the pain is too much.
And yes, I do feel better now that I got it out.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Thomas & Friends
So, after Bug saw Dumbo, that was really the only thing on his mind. I'm not sure, but I think he woudl have picked it over Cars, his first favorite movie. Well, with his Dumbo fettish, he was following in Rocket Scientist's footsteps. Apperantly, that was Rocket Scientist's favorite movie as a kid.
At the library (have I mentioned just how much I love the library?), I picked up some DVD's for little kids. One of them is a story of Thomas & Friends. You guessed it, he loves it. He keeps saying, "Train, train!" or "Choo, choo!" or even "Honk, honk!" for the diesel engines in the movie. I'm not sure but I'm pretty positive that my sister Jan has seen or at least heard this one. It is about the steam engines and the diesel engines needing to work together, but they don't want to because the diesel engeines say that the steam engines are stinky, and the "steamys" think the diesels are dirty. They need to work together to make the airport. Anyway...so yeah, Bug is obsessed. I wonder if Bug will be obsessed as Zach is about trains, or maybe this is just another episode. First he was obsessed with the pixar movie, "Cars", then Dumbo, and just now he picked Thomas & Friends over Dumbo.
I guess we'll see...
At the library (have I mentioned just how much I love the library?), I picked up some DVD's for little kids. One of them is a story of Thomas & Friends. You guessed it, he loves it. He keeps saying, "Train, train!" or "Choo, choo!" or even "Honk, honk!" for the diesel engines in the movie. I'm not sure but I'm pretty positive that my sister Jan has seen or at least heard this one. It is about the steam engines and the diesel engines needing to work together, but they don't want to because the diesel engeines say that the steam engines are stinky, and the "steamys" think the diesels are dirty. They need to work together to make the airport. Anyway...so yeah, Bug is obsessed. I wonder if Bug will be obsessed as Zach is about trains, or maybe this is just another episode. First he was obsessed with the pixar movie, "Cars", then Dumbo, and just now he picked Thomas & Friends over Dumbo.
I guess we'll see...
What am I?
Once upon a time, I was talking to a Korean couple an hour a day to help them with their english. The husband (Korean banker) brought up a lot of subjects that made me think. I am not one to really have an opinion of many of things, and maybe that is why it was kind of hard to talk to them, because the Korean banker had an opinion of many of things and couldn't understand why I didn't have an opinion.
Now, let's be hypothetical now, shall we? You, as my reader, are oriental. Your parents are oriental, and you were born in America, so you are an American. An Oriental American I guess.
Then there is me. I was born an American, and my parents are American, and their parents' are American to how ever back it goes. But what am I? Even if your parents (remember, you are Oriental) have lived in America for however many generations, you are still Oriental because your great great grandparents moved into America from an Oriental country. Yet, we are both American. What does that make me? Do I have a name? Sure my ancestors came from Scotland and England. Does that make me an English American?
I'm really boggled by this, and I would appreciate some comments on here from friends and family, or even those that don't know me. I'm not biased against any nationality or anything like that, I am just confused as to...well, I'm not sure exactly, but I explained it as best I could above. I hope I haven't confused any of you, but I wouldn't be surprised (random fact: I think surprised should be spelt like this, suprized. But whenever I spell it like that a red line pops up...) if I did confuse you because of my random fact or because of the fact that I am confused myself. (another random fact: isn't spelt a word? There is a red line under the word spelt above...)
I guess I'm getting way side tracked, so I guess I'll sign off before I confuse us all more. Please, if you have an idea of a way to answer my question "What am I?" please post because I need all the help I can get.
Now, let's be hypothetical now, shall we? You, as my reader, are oriental. Your parents are oriental, and you were born in America, so you are an American. An Oriental American I guess.
Then there is me. I was born an American, and my parents are American, and their parents' are American to how ever back it goes. But what am I? Even if your parents (remember, you are Oriental) have lived in America for however many generations, you are still Oriental because your great great grandparents moved into America from an Oriental country. Yet, we are both American. What does that make me? Do I have a name? Sure my ancestors came from Scotland and England. Does that make me an English American?
I'm really boggled by this, and I would appreciate some comments on here from friends and family, or even those that don't know me. I'm not biased against any nationality or anything like that, I am just confused as to...well, I'm not sure exactly, but I explained it as best I could above. I hope I haven't confused any of you, but I wouldn't be surprised (random fact: I think surprised should be spelt like this, suprized. But whenever I spell it like that a red line pops up...) if I did confuse you because of my random fact or because of the fact that I am confused myself. (another random fact: isn't spelt a word? There is a red line under the word spelt above...)
I guess I'm getting way side tracked, so I guess I'll sign off before I confuse us all more. Please, if you have an idea of a way to answer my question "What am I?" please post because I need all the help I can get.
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