Memories of Early Morning Seminary

Last year I had a list of very well-thought-out, doable New Year's resolutions. But then two weeks into January I found out I was pregnant and I sort of forgot about them in favor of devoting my energies to growing a person. This year I had one New Year's resolution: to become a morning person. I feel like if I could just go to bed earlier and wake up earlier, that would fix so many other things in my life: staying in my food budget- check. No more 11:00 P.M. snack time. Keeping up with the laundry- check. Laundry folding is the only productive thing I can think of that is quiet enough to do at 6:00 in the morning other than reading. Getting the kids to school on time so as to avoid receiving a nasty letter from the school district- check. Obviously two hours to get ready is better than 25 minutes. You get the picture.

I did great for about a week. Now I'm back to maybe getting to bed by 11:30 on weeknights and waking up at 8. The main problem, aside from the fact that I just have one of those bodies that needs a lot of sleep, is that I hate going to bed. I think I was one of those kids who always fought going to bed because they just knew that their parents ate candy and ice cream and had wild parties every night while they were sleeping. I'd started to think that maybe I'm just never going to be a morning person.

Then this morning I was reading my friend Liz's blog about what a blah month February is. It reminded me that Groundhog Day is in February. Groundhog Day is the anniversary of my first day of early morning seminary*. Which reminded me that starting eleven years ago, for a year-and-a-half, I was a morning person! EVERY weekday. There was not a single day (I'm not hyperbolizing, I swear!) that I wasn't happy to wake up at 5:15 A.M. and go to seminary. I loved every minute of it! One time I stayed up until 4:30 A.M. finishing a school project. I thought I would just doze off for a few minutes and then get up and go to seminary, but I slept through my alarm. I was so upset when I woke up because I'd missed seminary!

We had the most amazing seminary teacher ever (who happens to be Liz's mom). She loved movies and T.V. shows and she illustrated almost every gospel principle with a VHS clip from some movie or show. Which is why I always remember that my first day of seminary was on Groundhog Day- because we watched clips from the movie Groundhog Day. I can't remember what gospel principle we were supposed to have learned, but I do remember that I felt so warm and happy I didn't care how early it was. One time she baked a cake in the shape of the Hill Cumorah and hid little gold plates in it. Another time she invited me over for Sunday dinner and I was totally mystified when she got out a block of cheddar cheese and started grating it for macaroni and cheese. Didn't she know that macaroni and cheese is made with little packets of flourescent orange powder? Silly! That was one of the first things I learned how to make when I got married, and now I know the recipe for homemade mac and cheese by heart. I still think of it as a "special" dinner and it's my boys' favorite thing to eat.

At the end of our senior year everyone in our class got a copy of Jesus the Christ. I get mine out every year or so and read about ten pages before I give up (only 782 more to go!). But I love to read the inscription on the inside cover, which says:

For Katie-
May the Lord bless and keep you as you follow Him, in faith and hope- my dear friend.
Love, Sister Crane
Seminary 1998
You are one of my angels.

I'm pretty sure that I was no angel when I was a teenager. In fact I'm pretty sure I was a little on the obnoxious, self-obsessed side. But Sister Crane found a way to love me anyway, and that has made such a difference in my life. Now if I could just get her to hang out with me during my pre-dawn laundry folding sessions I think I could keep my New Year's Resolution! Maybe if I watched old tapes of Lois and Clark: The Adventures of Superman.....

*For those who don't know, early morning seminary is an hour-long church class that Mormons attend during high school. It's one of the things I love the most about my Church- we believe in the importance of every member studying and pondering the scriptures and the meaning they hold for our lives. We also believe in waking up early to eat cinnamon buns and color with markers:).

Houston, we have rollover

I love this girl.



And these guys...


And the man who made this:



Some days I think I would like 10 kids. Like the other day, I was talking with my friend Cindy while she was packing to go to Hawaii with her husband. I could hear her (six!) kids in the background, and her occasional comments to them: "no, you can't have that right now...well okay, just one", etc. Her life seems so full. Then I have my moments where I think that three kids are going to kill me. Then I look at my darling baby and think, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WANT ANOTHER ONE JUST LIKE YOU! But then I think, I love you so much I don't want another baby to take me away from you. Then I remind myself that I have plenty of time to figure it out. I just know that I love my family more than anything and that I'm happy that my job right now is to take care of them. Speaking of which, I should probably go do that.

Amen, amen and AMEN

I have ALWAYS been appalled at the trashiness of the Scholastic book company. Would you believe that when I took my children to a book fair at their school and let them each pick out a book, I then had to turn around and return Eric's book the next day because it was so inappropriate I couldn't even read the first page out loud to him? The explanation given was that it was geared toward 3rd-5th graders- I'm sorry, I don't want my child reading a book that uses the words "idiot" and "moron" multiple times on the first page, 3rd grade or not! Then there was Brigham, who almost had a meltdown because I made a rule that they had to pick out a book and not a toy. Huh? Thought it was a "book" fair did you? Funny, so did I. This company managed to get 15$ of my hard-earned money (of which I'm sure about 5 cents will go to the school) and turn me into a villain at the same time. This was like in October- can you tell how mad I still am about it?! So I felt pretty vindicated when I saw this column in the Washington Post today. I urge you to join the crusade!

Two things that you might like to know:

1. I have eaten WAY too many Girl Scout cookies tonight.

2. I saw a naked lady yesterday. Full front and back. I was running (pushing baby in stroller, dog on leash), and as we rounded a cul-de-sac, this woman came out onto her front porch sans clothing and hung a rug out to dry. Then she turned around in a leisurely manner and went back into her house. I think that's why I love to exercise outside- you just would not see that sort of thing at the gym. Or if you did, it would be disturbing rather than hilarious.

Also, I found out that the beautiful Golden Retriever that Mustang has a crush on is a boy- oops!

And before I collapse into bed, here are a few more of Briggie's photographic works of genius:

So thaaaaat's it.......

I just realized that it's Friday the 13th. So that's why I had such a terrible day! I won't even list all the reasons, they're so insignificant- suffice it to say that my day ended with a trip to Kroger with all three kids by myself. We'd had plans to have friends over for dinner, but they fell through and by that point I was really getting into the whole self-pity thing, so when the Elders called and asked if Eric could go on exchanges with them, I practically forced him to go, thinking that then I could REALLY feel sorry for myself. I mean, ditched by your husband on a Friday night so that he can go have doors slammed in his face? So I took the kids with me to Kroger and while I was pushing the cart down the frozen foods aisle in pursuit of a box of artichoke hearts (too uppity for Kroger, it turns out), the song Closing Time by Semisonic started to play. SUCH a perfect ending to my very bad day that I had to smile. One good thing did happen though- I made a heart-shaped pizza for dinner:



Plus, I have really cute kids...

Here we are at Brigham's Kindergarten program...

And I know all parents are delusional about their kids' talents, but I really do think my boys have potential as photographers! Here is a picture of the inside of Brigham's mouth:

Happy --th Birthday Mama!

My mom turned an age that is divisible by 10 a few weeks ago. I was thinking about her birthday the other day and memories of our times together started flooding my mind. They may be of no interest to anyone but the two of us, but I love to read about other people's moms (so illuminating!), so here you go:

One of my earliest memories: whining (surprise) about being hungry for dinner and you sat on a stool in the kitchen and held me in your lap a said simply, "I know, I know" in that distracted, but eternally patient way of yours. I try to channel that moment all the time, but can only ever manage the distracted part.

Going running for the first time with you: you asked if I wanted to come and I didn't think I could do it. You said let's run to Agnes' house and stop for a rest and a glass of water and then we'll run home. You were so patient with me, even though I know I ruined your run with my side cramp and my slowness. When we could see our house you said, "You take off Katie- don't let me hold you back," even though it was perfectly obvious that I was the one holding you back.

Taking me to camp for the first time and staying at the Three Hills Inn the night before, with it's German pancakes and caged toothless monkey. When we got to camp you stood with me looking out at the mountains across the river and said "They look a little different each day". I told my counselor that the next day, but she didn't get it.

The time after the divorce when you were cleaning out the fridge and found a carton of bad eggs. You said let's go out on the back porch and throw them at the trees. We did and I will never forget that- the two of us, chucking rotten eggs with all our might, and the unspoken understanding between us that life was hard, but we could still have fun.

Using a butter knife to "help" you scrape carpet glue off of the yellow tiles in your bathroom in our house in North Carolina- the house that little Eric calls "the crack house" because it has a crack in the brick facade now. I just know he runs around telling people that his mom grew up in a crack house:).

The pink plastic purse you gave me when I was five and Daddy and I left for Egypt a week before you and Adam did. I think I spent the entire 24-hour flight clutching it and crying because I missed you so much.

The year that we all got skis for Christmas and yours and Adam's were used, but mine were new because you said I'd had a hard year. Incidentally, I'm glad we've finally given up on trying to do all those winter sports and accepted that we are a beach family:).

The morning of my wedding when you pulled up to the front of the temple and turned to me and said "you don't have to do this Katie, we can turn around." I think I can understand now how sad you were and I can definitely laugh at the thought of the two of us- I in my wedding dress and you in your mother-of-the-bride dress- ditching my wedding and escaping to Mexico or somewhere.

You walking in the door of our apartment on Central campus to see baby Eric for the first time, exclaiming "Let me see my little baby!" and then "Let me see my big baby!" and hugging me.

The card you sent me on my twentieth birthday that said you were proud of everything I'd accomplished in twenty years and couldn't wait to see when I'd do in the next twenty and then, "Think big, Katie".

The summer after my freshman year when I was a counselor at camp and you forwarded all my mail to me. One day I got an insufficient funds notice from the bank and you wrote on it: "Oops...better take care of this". The next day another one came with your note "Uh oh...get this straightened out." The next day, another one and the words "Damn it, Katie."

The horrific night you spent in the ER with me after Eric was born. I remember you played tetris on your palm pilot and I found that oddly comforting. How bad could my situation really be when you were over in the corner playing a video game?

Dropping me off at college- you made my bed like you had always done when you took me to camp, then took me to lunch and just sort of left. Everyone else's parents stuck around for the weekend, but that was not your style- you were trying not to hold me back.

The first line of a song that I love says "Growing up it was just me and my mom against the world"- that always makes me think of us. Our escapades are far from over, I know, and now Marley can come along for the ride. Happy birthday Mama! I love you!

I think I'm going to like this:)

Do you know what a shuriken is? I do. I have sons. But tonight my little two-year-old friend Aubrey is here. While the boys were watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (which had to be turned off due to language issues- oops), they decided they needed to play with big Eric's Ninja weapons. How he got those is a long story that I won't go into here but suffice it to say, we are in possession of nunchaku, sai and shuriken. The shuriken went to Aubrey, who exclaimed, "Oh! A snowflake!" Four male mouths gaped in horror. I smiled. Aubrey toddled over to me and asked, "Is this a snowflake?" Yes, Aubrey. Yes it is. It's a pretty black snowflake:).