Giving Thanks

I had intended to post this on Thanksgiving Day, but things got busy and . . . you know. Anyway, this is a story that I've told to some friends and family before.

A few years ago we were in an awful predicament. Business wasn't good and we just never had any money. We couldn't afford gas in our cars; we couldn't buy clothes or shoes for the kids when they needed them. Sometimes we couldn't even afford groceries. Finally, our van broke down; I had to borrow a car every day—usually Melanie's—so I could get my kids to school each day. At first I called her every day to see if I could use her van, but then she just made arrangements for me to drive her to work in the morning, keep her car and then pick her up in the afternoon. Jessica was about two or three, and still in diapers, but I usually couldn't afford to buy them. When the diapers ran out I would work up my nerve and call Melanie—or sometimes my mother-in-law—to see if she could buy diapers for us. I felt so hopeless to always be calling and asking someone to bail me out—again and again and again.

Melanie was always nice, very understanding and never complaining or questioning my need. One day she told me that she had been setting aside $50 every month so that she could help me out. I felt so bad about this! I knew that money didn't flow in free abundance in Melanie's household either. I can't describe how I felt always asking her to save me, and knowing that in her own need she was willing to do so much for me. I would truly go as long as possible before I did ask for help. But that was never really very long.

One day I had to ask her, once again, to buy diapers for Jessica. Even though Melanie was always kind—she never sounded even a little bit frustrated with me—I started out on my own guilt trip anyway. And then something happened. I felt, physically felt, something snap and change inside of me. I suddenly knew that I could no longer feel guilt or sorrow for this; somehow my body and heart and mind were unable to carry that load any more. I had to let it go. And then the only feeling left in me was a tremendous gratitude. I could only be incredibly thankful for the help I received, and for the good things I did have.

It changed things a lot. We were still broke, and without a car. I still had to borrow or beg for so many things that we needed. It was months before we could even start to think of making a turn-around. But things felt better. I was happier; I was better.

Now, a few years later, things are still very rough. I can still get in a funk about my problems. But I really am thankful for what I do have. Big things, and small. So it seems appropriate, at "the end of the Thanksgiving season," to list some the things that I am thankful for:

First of all, I am thankful for my family. Bruce is my best friend and I know he loves me with all of his heart. I am thankful for a good marriage, and for a husband whom I love.

I am thankful for Michael. I love his sense of humor. I love that we can play and tease with each other. I'm thankful for the computer help he gives me when I need it.

I am thankful for Jason. I'm thankful for his spiritual nature, and his love of good music (read, "music that I love too"). I enjoy his sense of humor a lot too.

I am thankful for Lindsey. I am so glad that she is helpful and so kind. I'm thankful for how cheerful she is.

I am thankful for Brandon. I love his creativity, his silly wit, and the humor he brings into our home.

I am thankful for Ryan. I love how bright he is, and that he still likes to give me hugs.

I am thankful for Kaylie. I love to see her dance, and I'm glad she loves music. I love her enthusiasm and persistence.

I am thankful for Rachel. I love to see how much thought she puts into her projects, and I love to see her artistic talent. She is also developing a fun sense of humor.

I am thankful for Jessica. She is my little ray of sunshine; I love her sweetness and how bright she is. I am thankful that she is still snuggly.

I am thankful for Melanie; that she is not just my sister, but my good, good friend.

I am thankful for my family and for Bruce's family.

I am thankful for my home, my car, fall leaves, paper snowflakes, good health and a happy family.

I am thankful for my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ. I have felt their love for me lately. I have felt it through scriptures, through good music, through talks by church leaders. I have felt it in the temple and through prayer.

I hope I can always remember to be truly thankful—and learn to be thankful in all things. And so may we all.

Blessings in Disguise

After about two weeks of sleepless nights I caught a nasty head cold. On top of the sleepless-tired, I became sick-tired as well. My brain quit working altogether. For example:

• I woke up one morning to discover that one of the "nobodies" in my house had turned the thermostat off the previous night—the house was freezing! So I sat there, looking at the thermostat for a good thirty seconds, trying to figure out what the temperature in the house was. I could see the numbers all right, I just couldn't understand what they were telling me.
• Later, I was trying to alter a recipe to make only 2/3 of the recipe. Normally this is very easy for me. But even after taking several minutes to adjust the amounts I couldn't then remember the measurements I'd come up with.
• I would sit and stare at my untied shoes trying to decide what I had to do next.
• I couldn't read music and play it too.

My brain really was not working. (And, no, I was not on drugs—we're out of cold medicine, and how could I actually think to go get some?)

So where is the blessing in all of this? I actually slept. And slept and slept. I fell asleep quickly at night; I slept in clear until 7:00 every morning. I took two or three naps a day; and all of this for about five days straight!

I'm still recovering from the cold—you know, cough and all that. But wow! I feel so much better!

Nights of the Living Dead

It is 3:50 a.m. and I am awake. This is really unfair since I have no infants in the house. But it happens to me a lot, and I am just tired (which is why I haven't had much to say here lately. Just can't think.). I'm sure I must look like a zombie most of the time. Well, my friend says I just look very tired—she says zombies are really ugly. But I kind of feel like a zombie most of the time.

So here I sit at 4:00 in the morning, writing a really dumb post just because I can't sleep. Gotta love that.

Just Wrong!

The other day Jessica and I went window-shopping, just to get out of the house and see some new sights. We looked at jewelry (she kept telling me she wanted to look at jewelry, although she didn't know what "jewelry" was until we actually looked at some), we looked at clothes, we looked at Christmas decorations, we looked at toys. As we walked past the lingerie department Jessica said, in a thoroughly shocked tone, "That's wrong!!"
I turned around to see what she was talking about, and there was a mannequin dressed in a "Santa's helper" bra and panties. When I asked her about it, she said, "Santa Claus wears his own underwear!"

I guess she's right. :-)

Technical Stuff

OK. For all you blind people, I made my font-size bigger. But, if that's still not good enough, Michael says you can increase the size from your end. Just push the "control" button (Ctrl) and scroll up or down with your mouse. And hey! I tried it and it works just swell!

(OK. Now Michael, Mr. Smarty-Pants, is saying that we would know these things if we would just mess around with our computers a little bit sometimes, and usually when you mess around it's not going to break anything . . . and he's still talking . . .)

Thank you, Michael. ;-)

Kaylie

Well since I told a Kaylie story last week, I figured I might as well talk about her some more.

Kaylie was born angry at the ill-treatment she was receiving. You know, each baby has a different cry; Michael's was sad—like we were picking on him, but Kaylie came out saying, "This is no way to bring a baby into the world, and you had better start treating me right!" And she was LOUD. When she was in the nursery—with the door closed, and I was in my room—with the door closed, I could hear her crying. When my mom came to visit us in the hospital she asked where we were; the nurse told her to listen for the crying baby.

On the other hand, our bishop came to visit us soon after Kaylie was born and I heard later (from his wife) that he thought Kaylie was the most beautiful baby he'd ever seen. :-)

the most beautiful baby

What a sweet smile!

Here is one of my favorite Kaylie stories, because it shows her reasoning and her personality so well:

A couple of years ago my kids were at my friend Verlene's house. She had a refrigerator with a water dispenser on the front and so, naturally, the kids had to take full advantage of this novelty and get lots of drinks of water. Well, pretty soon Kaylie sidles on in, looks around and pushes the button, just letting the water run onto the floor—you know, just to see what would happen. Verlene asked her, "Now why did you do that? Would you like it if I came to your house and got water all over the floor?" Kaylie says, "When I am a grown-up I won't tell you where I live!"

pretty, photogenic Kaylie

Kaylie can be feisty, and she lets you know what she thinks. But she is smart, and she is really very sweet most of the time; she likes to make pictures for me and she plays very well with her little sisters. She is a very pretty girl with beautiful, dark brown eyes. She loves to dance, and to play the piano too. She is an excellent reader and her teachers say she behaves very well, and is helpful in school.

A few weeks ago, as I prepared dinner, Kaylie was in the living room busily writing. She didn't show me what she wrote, but Bruce and I found this sweet testimony later:

"I belive Jesus made the world for us.

He made day and night.

He made all the animals.

Jesus made the sea. He made the ocean.

He made the plants to.

The world is a wonderfull place to me.

by Kaylie North"

I love my Kaylie!

Next to Godliness

Today I got my house clean. Really clean. I love a clean house! I mean really—I might be kind of a fanatic about it. When my house is cluttered, or dirty, I am very restless. I guess I can't sit here knowing there's work to be done, but not doing it. On the other hand, I feel utterly blissful when the house is clean. I do wish that others shared those sentiments. (I mean others who live in this house with me.)

Anyway, I did the dishes, cleaned the counters, the table, furniture, dusted, vacuumed, swept and mopped, washed mirrors and toilets, I did everything—even the laundry! But that's not all; I also made significant headway in cleaning my bedroom. That's something! (When my kids clean house, if they don't know what to do with something I say, resignedly, with a sigh, "Put it on my dresser.")

Today I got most of the work done before lunch. But then I got a little slow and lazy (the after-lunch blahs) and didn't finish until just before school got out. And then, oh dread! I had to go get the kids from school. Couldn't they just spend the night there? Just this once?

But they kept it all pretty decent. A few crayons out. A movie. Now we're off to the library. Maybe we can stay out so late that there's no chance to get anything else out before bed time. Imagine waking up to a clean house! Heavenly!

Analogy

What I learned from years of dance:

You work hard. You work until your muscles shake, and then you work some more. You jump higher, reach higher and stretch further than you thought you could. You get blisters that break and bleed; you might get pulled muscles, but you still keep pushing. Sometimes—usually—you go back to the next class before your sores have healed. This makes it more painful to do the class than it is normally, but you do it anyway. You may grimace through parts of the class because it is so hard, mentally as well as physically. But you work at being—and you do learn to be—smooth, graceful, and smile through it all. You get tough and strong, but you do it so well that everyone who sees you thinks it is effortless. You do it because what you get at the end is worth it. In the end, it is the audience—pleasing the audience, the love of pleasing the audience—that makes all your work and your performance worthwhile.

There must be an analogy for life here. If only I can master the graceful, smiling, effortless part of it while I am still in the class.

Santa, Baby

Only 50 shopping days left until Christmas! The current mantra of every store and every marketing specialist in the United States these days. Yes, Wal-Mart put up their Christmas tree in the front of the store two days before Halloween—don't want anybody to miss the fact that Christmas is coming again this year.

So in keeping with that holiday spirit, I am giving you my Christmas Wish List. Feel free to get me anything here. ;-)

A GOOD sewing machine. I have about four used sewing machines that have been donated to me, plus my $80 e-bay special (which gave its $80 worth and then quit). But what I want is a new Husqvarna Emerald 116 or 118. Price tag: about $500

A stand-mixer, specifically the Cuisinart 5.5 Quart Stand Mixer (as recommended by Cook's Illustrated). Price tag: $349.

Tiles, grout and paint for my living room, or a gift card to Lowe's. Price tag: $200?

A dishwasher. Oh, oh yes! A Dishwasher! Wouldn't that be living in style? Price tag: ???

A water-softener—to keep the dishwasher working right. Price tag: no idea

(No, I am not cheap. But I am so charming!)

Clothes. Nice ones, not the Wal-Mart special. And girly stuff—I think I'm outgrowing the jeans and T-shirt look. Or, at least I'd like to. Price tag: unlimited

Shoes. Cute high-heels in brown, size 6 1/2 W; sneakers, same size; every-day shoes that are not sneakers, probably the same size. Nice ones, not the Payless special. Price tag: $150?

A Frieling Handle-It Glass Bottom Springform Pan. Every year for Christmas I bake a to-die-for NewYork Cheesecake. (I can only bake it once a year because it is rich enough to kill a pig.) When I read about this pan—yes, in Cook's Illustrated—I just had to have it, the Rolls Royce of springform pans. Price Tag: $29.99 (Hey! That sounds kind of reasonable!)

Jewelry. Yes, I am becoming more of a girlish girlie every day. But I don't need 24-carat gold or sterling silver; fake stuff will work beautifully. Except for earrings; sensitive there, so gold or hypo-allergenic, definitely nickel-free, and light-weight. Price tag: No idea.

A pedicure, once a month for a year (or for life!). I've had a pedicure once, and now I fantasize about doing it again—and again, and again. Call me weird. Price tag: once more, no idea.

A membership for two to the local fitness center, and someone who will go with me every day. Price tag: About $250 to $300

Books. No sex, no swearing, no violence.

Well that is all I can think of right now. But I'll bet I could come up with more. Remember, only 50 days. Ho Ho Ho!

p.s. I might even take a lump of coal!

Funny

Yesterday my kids were watching Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. When Milly is having her baby all the six brothers are downstairs pacing the floor; finally the baby cries and Gideon says, "I'm an uncle!" and he passes out flat on the floor. Without skipping a beat, Kaylie (in her little seven-year-old voice) says, "He's a carpet!"

I like my kids! :-)