Happy Day for Sam!!!

5th grade!

Sam's artwork won
the competition last year
and has been printed
on the school directory!!!

Way to go Sam!

Thought for Thursday ♥

A successful man is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him.

---David Brinkley

Clarissa and Soccer, A perfect MATCH!!!

She FAST!!!

She's AGGRESSIVE!!!

She's DETERMINED!!!

She's ON THE BALL!!!

Clarissa LOVES soccer.
She is really good at it!!!

I love her crazy SOCKS!!!

Way to GO Clarissa!!!
♥♥♥

CoNgRAtuLaTIonS GAVIN and JOSH!!!!

What can be done with scraps of paper, a great friend, some good thinking, and about 23 hours of homework....

First of all they spent six straight hours
cutting tiny pieces of paper from magazines...

Then they spent another.....??? hours gluing them....

[This is his THINKING pose!!!]

...thinking...
my back is killing me!
why did we think this would be easy?
ARE WE EVER GOING TO FINISH??!!!!

the BRIDGE....

Project: A competition in the Language courses
at East High School.

Every student taking a language class,
including ENGLISH...sooo, pretty much every student

had to submit a poster.

The posters would be voted upon in classes,
grade level, and school wide...

The theme was:
A picture is worth a thousand words....

The idea was to create something that
could be understood by all languages and cultures!

Their idea was "Bridge the YAP!!!"

...while we speak a thousand languages...
the meaning is the same...

Ich liebe dich ...

Rakastan sinua ...

Te Amo...

I love you...

No matter how you say it!!!!

...see the bridge...
see the sun....
...sun setting across the water...
...see the palm tree...
...see the smile in Gavins eyes...
knowing he did his very best,

and wondering what the outcome of tomorrow brings...

Gavin,
I liked to thank you for the great poster!
I hope that wins your poster.
I wish you the best! Thank you!

[from Ms. Daunhauser, his German teacher]

Gavin and his friend Josh
submitted their poster last week
after many nights of
hard work and thinking...

Their poster WON in their German class...

Then it WON against the rest of their grade...

Then it WON against the finalists in the school....

And now it will be going to STATE competition!!!

Yeah Gavin and Josh!
Put the two of their heads together

and you get genius!!!

a little bit of everything...and BLeSs mE ♥

Tonight was fun!!!

Why? You ask.

Was it the jokes Jeremy told us off the laffy taffy treats?

Could it have been the discovery of Sam and Jeremy having a photo shoot with their Karl Malone and Kobe Bryant lego trading peoples?

[It might have been when they requested
I BLOG their photo shoot....because
"mommy, you don't blog enough lately"]

Was it watching my kids eat a delicious dinner made completely from leftovers?

It definitely had something to do with how pleasant and helpful Gavin was even though he didn't get to go long board the University because dinner was a bit later than usual!

Was it Brian walking through the door a tad bit earlier than most nights?

It most certainly had something to do with the hug that my daughter got from her daddy and the tender voices as they each shared moments of their day with one another. Before I met these two I didn't know that was even something possible.


I know it was talking basketball with Gavin and then later tucking him in and finding that even at 15 they still like it when you sing them a lullaby like you did when they fit in your arms swaddled in a blanket....same song, same I love you feeling....

[and hearing him say sweetly,
"I love you mommy"
as I walked out of his room
helped a thousand fold.
Miracle on earth!
I love you forever...I love you for always...]

Could it have been the chitter chatter of two teens, their daddy, and the boys reading together all at once?


It could have been all of these things, and yet....

...there was more to it.

I was at peace. I felt myself smiling, watching them all, enjoying the smells, the sights, the sounds, the sweet laughter, the twinkle of love in the room.

Yes. It was all of these things and more.

Tonight I listened to Jeremy tell me the following jokes, and then re-tell them hoping I would have them memorized to tell daddy if he "got home to late".

Take a minute....have you heard them:

Why did the pig go into the kitchen?

It felt like bacon.




What kind of shorts do clouds wear?

thunderwear

Why was the cat afraid of the tree?

He was afraid of the bark

What did the pig put on his cut?

oinkment!!!

It had a lot to do with my discovery of the age old question...

WHY DO WE HAVE TO LEARN
SO MUCH STUFF IN SCHOOL?

WILL WE EVER USE ANY OF IT???


Truthfully the answer to this could use an entire POST,
but for now I will answer simply....YES!!!


I SMILED....
[to clone LeShel's SUnday SmILEs]

as I walked out of the boys room
after answering both of their questions

and feeling like THE
SMARTEST mommy in the
ENTIRE WORLD!!!

Simply,

Can Black Widows Kill you?




ANd, What is a swastika?

The first question was from Sam. And at this time of night I used my mommy filter to answer "NO. You can get really sick, but you will not die." [okay, I lied, but can you blame me?]

We currently have a pet Black Widow and we had just fed it another spider that I proudly found crawling around. So...it was fresh on his mind. I was also able to have a quick prayer and opportunity to remind him that he can ask for comfort and peace and that he will rest without us having to execute our PET spider, and without me having to sleep in his little bed with him all night.



The second question came after the first....and it was from Jeremy. I answered that it was a symbol peace, harmony and good fortune inverted by Hitler to represent evil and black magic. You wont have to learn about that for a few more years...."now get to sleep."

"I knew that" he replied, "I just didn't know if you did."

Well, I am glad that I did, and now I have to look up the swastika because I guessed and I wonder if I was right????






Finally, and possibly the MOST important part of my fun night, came when having prayer with Jeremy. He thanked Heavenly Father for "a good day", I smiled....

"a happy day," I smiled bigger....

...and then he said something I hope to NEVER forget,
and to ALWAYS remember....

He asked simply with all the faith that a little child has

[which by the way is far greater than
anything I understand even to this day]...

...he asked...

"Bless me to work hard tomorrow
and to work fast
so that I can get all my recesses."

Amen.

Yes, It was a wonderful evening....
It was a beautiful day....

Tonight was FUN!

And now I lay me down to sleep,
and pray the Lord...

to

"Bless me
to work hard tomorrow
and
to work fast
so that I get
all my recesses."

---Amen

BEST status update on Facebook EVER!!!!

MY FRIEND [name not disclosed due to the sensitive nature of the following...] IS ..."this is the bullet that i pulled out of my dear it is just the one that i found the other one i am hoping that the butcher can find in his spine"....

Uh...okay???

What I learned from a RAT!

Clarissa is home today from an injury after accidentally stabbing herself with a pencil yesterday which broke off inside her hand. No worries, she is okay, just nursing her wound with a little help from me.

I am home today nursing other wounds.
Wounds that are internal

and which wounds I normally try to hide.

In the course of me nurturing her, she nurtures me today.

I asked her today if I am all the mother that she could want. I wanted an honest answer. I have been picking myself apart my whole life, why not let someone else do it for a change.

She was honest with me, thankfully, and didn't give me the Sunday School answers that I am perfectly perfect in every way and that she could not want for a better mother.

No, she told me the truth, how she really feels, and I am better for it.


She was watching Ratatouille.



Armed with half a Bacon Cheeseburger each and Sweet Potato fries we watched the final moments of the movie, and pondering her sweet answer I listened to the food critics response to the meal he had been served by the RAT:

~ In many ways, the work of a critic is easy.
We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment.

We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.
But the bitter truth we critics must face is that,
in the grand scheme of things,
the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.

But there are times when a critic truly risks something,
and that is in the discovery and defense of the new.

The world is often unkind to new talents — new creations.

The new needs friends.

Last night,
I experienced something new,
an extraordinary meal from
a singularly unexpected source.

To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement.

They have rocked me to my core.

In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook.

But I realize only now do I truly understand what he meant.
Not everyone can become a great artist,
but a great artist can come from anywhere.

It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion,
nothing less than the finest chef in France.

I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.~

I have offer up my work and myself to her judgment. I opened myself up in this way because who can be a better critic than one who is at the core of my work.

My darling daughter, a daughter who I hope will grow up to blossom all the love and light and talent that she has been blessed to have.

A daughter who I hope will take all she has seen in me and learned from me and make more.

Who I hope through her life's experiences will come to forgive me for my shortcomings and who will forgive herself when she experiences them too.


Now hearing this next piece made me smile: the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so... May I be lucky to be such an average piece of junk in someones world, and may I do all that I am meant to in my own.



The exciting part comes next....a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new ahhhh, the discovery....

The world is so unkind, and we can often find the extraordinary in the unexpected.

It is always in the things that I least want to happen that I have the most blessings.

It is never fun to hear that you are not coming across the way that your heart believes you are. That others don't see you the way that you think they will. The mistakes of misunderstanding. We all suffer this. There is no possible way another person can know the true intent of my heart, because what ever they are experiencing, where ever they are coming from they will see me with their own tainted view.

Discovery and defense....Even as I discover myself I find that others are discovering an entirely different person than I believe myself to be. The natural defense is to weep, to mourn or grieve the criticism. But...

To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement.

...what if, ...what if we really tried to see one another for the person they are within??? what if we offered to see them in their refinement....

What if we challenge our preconceptions.....Our Maker has such a divine and individual plan for every one of us. He makes no mistakes. You, me, everyone you meet.

Hard concept to grasp, but yes, He makes no mistakes.

I think of this and wonder....my judgement of others makes me question this truth, and when I question it I become a harsher judge of myself.

[arggghhhh... the thoughts....I think right now I have a bit too much salt in my meal, and the only solution is to cry it out...]


and then...

I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.

It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France

We are no less than perfectly refined by our humble origins....we are made into the finest and find that OUR PERSONAL greatness comes from out of the junk.

So, for me today....in my own personal junkyard, I am discovering something wonderful about me. I am letting down my defense, and allowing my imagination to wander. What will I become??? Who knows, but I am sure it will be nothing less than the finest!!!

Brian can say NO!

:(

To remind myself:

“We are seeking to build up and to establish righteousness in the hearts of the people, and I want to see you, as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, male and female,

so industrious,

so active in the discharge of your duties as Latter-day Saints,

so humble,

so submissive to the will of the Lord

that you will not have time to spend

in magnifying the weaknesses,

the follies and the faults of your neighbors and of your fellow members of the Church.

The Lord knows there is evil enough said in the world thoughtlessly; and without any particular intent to do wrong, but merely through the weakness of men to talk, talk, talk and say nothing–let us work and not talk.”

- Joseph F. Smith, “Conference Report,” October 1911, p. 10

Love this beautiful message today. I find myself spending a great amount of time TALKING about my own weaknesses, my own follies, my own faults.... that I am not finding myself productive and submissive to the will of the Lord. I am the way I am because he designed me as such. I am here to overcome the weaknesses that I have through diligence, through hard work, through humbly turning myself over to Him.

All the experiences I have are for my good, for my growth.

All the good and the bad that I am subjected to are blessings from him to strengthen my soul and enlighten my wisdom.

I wanted to take this message today and remind myself that it is even in how we talk talk talk about ourselves, our struggles, our trials, how we focus on them....that is not part of His design.

Celebrate who you are today, for I will be celebrating me, all of me, and I hope to overcome the negativity, inadequacy, and loneliness I have in moments where I pick myself apart .

May I be industrious,

May I be submissive,

May I be humble,

May I be active.....and WORK....on becoming

who He sees me

to be...

...in my Father's hands...

Dearest Grandmother,

I miss you. I miss your crooked smile, your endearing eyes,

your enduring hugs, your love for me and your listening ear.

I realize as I miss you that I can
look at a picture and see your smile,
I can try to gaze into your eyes
and imagine you are looking only back at me,
I can read your history
and wrap a blanket around myself
pretending that I am in the warmth of your arms,
and I can close my eyes and
still feel the love you have for me.

Sometimes while my eyes are closed I pretend that I am talking to you, telling you all about life, the things I would tell you if you were here. And then I wait, and in the silence I know that you are not here, and I miss you.


I miss you so much that my heart feels broken in half. I wish that I could give part of it to you so that I could feel healing in your presence. I know that I will have to wait, and as I ponder what it is that I will do while I am still here I think of all the things that I will miss telling you, miss sharing with you.

You told me once of a dream that you had. A dream that you realized was about me the day I was born. Grandma, I dream about you now, and I wonder when my dreams will come true. I want to see you again, to see you whole, and healthy, taking a walk in all the places you loved being while you were here.

I think about all that you are doing there. I think about the amazing people you are with, and how you are helping them to feel special; the way you made me feel. I don't want to take you from your work, or from them.

I try to be strong but I find myself crying and pleading for just one more day, one more moment. One more chance to hold your hand, to tell you I love you. To tell you thank you for being there for me. To tell you that you are my everything. I didn't have enough time, never enough time, and I didn't have the words to say good bye.
I didn't want to see you hurting anymore.
I didn't want you to suffer,
but I wanted to keep you with me.

I suppose that all these things should make me try harder. To have hope and to seek to do all the righteous things that will bring me to you again someday. I wish I had the strength in my life to fulfill that desire.

I feel so weak. I feel so broken. You understood me, you listened to me, and you always cared about how I was really doing, not just the surface stuff, but the real insides of my soul.

Grandma, I miss you. I wonder if you are watching me sometimes, and if you are disappointed in what you see. If you still love me, really knowing me for who I am.

The who that I hide from everyone else. The me that is really me.
Do you still love me?

I picked an apple from your tree last time I was there. I wanted to bring it too you, to bottle it or dry it, or slice it and have a snack with you, a snack harvested from the grace of God.

I wonder what will come in my life, what the seasons will bring, what I will harvest, and who I will share it with. I wonder if I am doing all that I can, and should be doing, to nourish my family, their souls, and will my family reap a good harvest someday.

I think of all you taught me, your hard work and diligence. The faith and testimony that you had and so lived your life to emulate. I think of the lessons I learned from you going to primary with you, and then when you made me go to Relief Society. I so didn't want to go without you. I didn't want to grow up. I wanted to stay with you, but you knew better. You knew that I needed to be moving on, growing, and that growth would be painful, but would bring me the most joy. I learned then that I would be okay, without you.

I wish I believed that now.

Thank you for all the memories.
There is not a holiday that I don't think of something that I want to incorporate because of you. This year has been hard for me. I don't think I am finished grieving but I am hopeful that it is time to move on, to accept the pain as growth, and to be okay.

I miss you, I always will, but I thank you that I can look in the mirror and see all that is good of you looking back at me.
Thank you for giving me that.

I love you.

---your granddaughter

Story Care #1: Clarissa Rosebelle

Today as I was working on homework I began to smell the scent of garlic and tomato drifting from the kitchen. It was the sweet aroma of my little Clarissa making dinner without being asked. She is so dear to always notice where she can pitch in and help and does so without fanfare.

More often than I should I complain about how weary or stretched I am. Sometimes I sit and wonder if my children will grow up and give me grandchildren. Have I, at times, made parenting look so miserable that they will be inclined to opt out. I wonder?

But then I hear the children laughing and playing together, they are happy and they are content. They are good to one another and I think maybe I am not doing so terrible.

...maybe the deep breathing that I have mastered is working, ...maybe the many hymn's I hum to keep myself from saying the words that can not be taken back in times of temper.

Maybe, just maybe, I don't see the quality of my own motherhood.

I am temperamental, I am onry,
I am impatient, but my children are not.
They are calm, and sweet, and charitable.
I am thankful.


Clarissa was our belated Christmas gift.
She came the day after, keeping us in anticipation as we did not know if she would be a boy or a girl. Modest from the beginning she surprised us on the 26th of December.

I had read my great-grandmothers history the day before and when I saw her perfectly perfect little face I knew at once she was my little Clarissa Rose. She is named after both of her Great Grandmothers from my mothers line. She carries her names well as she is very spontaneous, full of comfort, loves to shop, hardworking and diligent. She is all of her grandmothers in one sweet package.

I love that she will lean over to kiss me a block from her school. She doesn't want to be seen kissing her mom, but she doesn't want to go to school without a kiss.

She still grabs my hand when we are at the Gateway shopping.

She listens to my complaints, then fills the foot bath with salts, has me take a rest and read my school book while she helps her brothers finish their chores or homework.

She reminds me everyday what God is like; He is hope, and love, and charity, and forgiveness. She is all of those things and she blesses our lives. I am thankful for her and today....my story of caring is dedicated to her today.

In the near 13 years of her life she has changed mine.

I am a better person because I have known her.
I may be her mother, but I look up to her.