My New Calling - Primary Chorister

WARNING: Unlike most of my posts, this is a very CHURCHY post. Be warned. If you are not a member of the LDS church or are not very active, this post and it's meaning may be a complete mystery to you. I apologize for being exclusive on this but...sorry. It's what's on my mind today.

I always thought that my IDEAL calling in the church would be Mia Maid advisor. But then I became a junior high teacher and I realized that mia maids are like--in 8TH GRADE. YUCK. Well, I STILL think that would be a pretty cool calling, but I'm also pretty sure I'll never serve in Young Women's. Young Women's advisors usually follow a certain pattern:

1. Skinny

2. Blonde
3. Super Spiritual

4. Kissed less than 4 guys

5. NEVER served a mission themselves
6. Married to a return missionary
7. Self-sacrificing
8. Sweet as sugar

9. Married by age 21

10. Have beautiful well-behaved children

(This, by the way, is also my definition of SYT, pronounced "Sit". SYT stands for Sweet Young Thing. There's nothing wrong with SYT's, except that they tend to marry all the RM's really fast and leave nothing for the sister missionaries to date when they get home.)

Ok, I know, this is a total stereotype. There are many different types of women serving in the young women's. Some aren't married, some are fat, and a very few might even be return missionaries. But in my experience, if you are most of these things, your chances of getting called are pretty darn good. Seeing as I only fit in about...well, TWO of these (married a return missionary and blonde. Afton is beautiful but not always well behaved :) I'm pretty sure I won't be seeing the inside of a young women's room any time soon. I'm too blunt. I'd tell it like it is. I'd even admit to them that...shhh...kissing is fun. I know--we try to keep this fact from them but I'm pretty sure they already know.

Ok. I'm going off on a tangent here. This post is NOT about the ideal calling I always wanted, but the one I just got. Primary Chorister. I think this is a calling you can only love or hate. It's one or the other. It requires a lot of preparation to be good at it, and there are a few requirements you want to have--like the ability to sing and lead music. Sometimes, this requirement is overlooked. I've actually always wanted to try this calling. I remember sitting in Primary as a teacher, watching our poor chorister trying so hard, but she just didn't seem to know what to do. She really did try her best. But oh--oh I wanted to run up there and just TAKE OVER! I knew how I would do it! I was full of ideas! I was frustrated to just sit there and grit my teeth and sing.

Well, I've been chorister for two weeks now. And guess what? IT IS THE BEST CALLING IN THE CHURCH!!! Move over Mia Maid Advisor. You've been replaced. I absolutely love this calling. Let me count the ways:

• I get to be creative! I get to make stuff and glue and paste and print and glue some more. It's awesome. I don't get to do that much as a jr. high teacher. Teenagers don't care. But these kids love it. Last week I made boxes and put songs in them. When I called on someone to pick a box, they got to KEEP the box. It was mayhem. They all wanted them. I never heard kids sing so well. You just don't get that kind of enthusiasm and excitment from older kids.
• It's not that hard. I mean, sharing time has to be all meaningful. This is just coming up with fun ways to sing. The majority of the time, the kids are singing. That's easy. I love to come up with new ways to make singing fun!
• These kids CRACK ME UP. Seriously, last week we were DYING of laughter in senior primary. I made this Primary Song Wheel, and this kid spun it and got "Sing Slowly." So I had to pick a song to sing slow and I picked "Scripture Power" which is TOTALLY not a slow song. IT WAS HILARIOUS. Even the leaders were laughing.
• I get to teach my baby how to sing! For the last ten minutes I go into nursery, and there is Afton being all cute, and I get to teach her and all these other little ones a song! They totally don't sing, but they are pretty darn cute. I never thought I'd enjoy anything nursery related but it really is so fun.
• I get to have fun at church. Seriously--FUN. I love standing up in front of crowd. I love to make people laugh. And we just have so much fun together.

I don't know how long I'll feel this way--I'm sure I'll be totally burned out in a year. But right now I'm happy as a clam, and actually SAD that it's conference next week and I don't get to do my calling. So pathetic I know. But hooray! It's fun! Thanks Heavenly Father. You got this one dead on.

Blogging with Jeykll & Hyde

When I was a missionary for my church, I served in South Africa. It was a great mission. But, of course, it was hard, too. It was 2000-2001, and at the time, emails were not allowed. My mail from home was a long time coming and outdated when it got there. I devoured it all the same.

When I left for my mission, my sister gave me a really great idea. I bought a three-ring journal at the distribution store, along with several packets of three-ring journal paper. I lef the journat home, but took the paper with me. All my letters home were written on that journal paper. After my parents finished reading the letter, they would put it in the journal. I came home 18 months later with a journal all ready for me and easy to read--all my letters home. It really was a brilliant idea, and I've spread it on to other missionaries going out.

But it did have one strange side effect. It was the birth of what I called the "Jekyll & Hyde journals." When I was frustrated or having a difficult time, I didn't usually write about it in detail in my letters home. What was the point of worrying my family with issues that would be long over after I read them? My letters home were full of happy times, success stories, bearing my testimony and encouraging words. These things were all true, I wasn't lying. And I would tell them if I was struggling--just not in any detail. This journal of letters became my Jeykll journal. All the good stuff. All the happiness and goodness of serving a mission.

I kept another journal on my mission. Up until this point in my life, I was an avid journal writer. I was actually quite obnoxious about it. But once on mission, I was so busy I didn't have much time to write. So I only wrote when I needed to get my feelings out--something I have done since I started writing in my journal in the 3rd grade. When I'm upset or need to sort out how I feel, I write it down. And thus, my Hyde journal was born. It helped at the time, but that journal isn't so fun to read now.

If you were to read one of the other of these journals, it wouldn't give you a very accurate depiction of what my mission was like. In one, you'd think it was a piece of cake and I had no problems. In the other, you'd think I hated every second of it. But when read together, the real shape of my 18 months down there become more clear.

I don't write in my journal much anymore. I have a file that I update every few weeks with the goings-on of my life. Once married, I found that I had precious little to write about. My feelings are generally on an even keel and I don't need to "write it out" all that often.

And then: Enter the blog.

Which journal is this blog? Is it my Jekyll or my Hyde? I have recently been informed by a long-time friend that my blog is really negative. This hurt to hear. I was actually quite upset about it. I didn't think I was all that negative. I looked over my last posts--and sure, some of them were perhaps "negative" but more, they were me getting out my feelings. Writing it out. Sorting how I feel. And perhaps this isn't something I should do in a public place. Obviously it's not understood. I think that's one of my problems--I always assume people just understand me and know how I meant to say things. But they don't. It gets me into trouble.

So, to all you readers out there, if my blog has seemed negative to you--I apologize. I hope I have not given the impression that I am a negative person, or that my life is not a happy one. I guess I don't see much reason to have some annoying Jeykll blog--to post constantly about how great my life and my husband and my child are--posts like that are kind of braggy and annoying. But--I DO have a great life. And a great husband. And a great child. I AM happy. In fact, the last few days I've had moments where I catch myself grinning in happiness for no particular reason.

But for me, writing is a way of thinking. It helps me think. It helps me understand myself. And I guess that means that sometimes, this blog will be a little bit Hyde. 'Cause sometimes life is hard. Sometimes it's not all rosy. And it's nice to share it with friends and realize that sometimes, they feel that way too. I guess that's why I blog. Why do YOU blog?

Have I Deteriorated?

I often tell guys that when you marry a hot girl who is under 21, you really have no idea what you are getting. They, after all, haven't really gotten their "real" body yet. You have no idea if they are going to get fat or stop caring about their appearance. Better, I tell them, to marry a girl in her mid to late twenties, who has already done her "deteriorating" and become pretty much what she's going to look like for the rest of her life. Then you have a better idea. Not just looks, of course--older girls also have SOME INKLING of who the crap they are and what they want in life.


I thought this was pretty sound logic. But...I was wrong. I did not take into account what marriage and child-bearing can do to you. It's amazing how all the superficial things men look for in a wife are exactly what she gives up once she marries him. She gives up her figure to have a baby. And then she has a hard time caring what she looks like as her priorities totally shift.


Of course, there are those women who hold on to everything and manage to stay skinny and beautiful.


Let's not discuss those women. Because we hate them.


I got married when I was 27. Surely--SURELY--I had already done my "deteriorating" and Trevor was sure what he was getting. Granted, I was no size 8 anymore. He knew when he married me that I'd never be skinny. And that's a comfort. But poor Trevor. When I met him, I had just lost 30 pounds. I looked the best I'd looked since I was 20. I TOTALLY fooled him. In fact, we were discussing this the other day. I said "Man, we were so much hotter when we got married," (Trevor has put on a few too!) "we really fooled eachother," I added.


Trevor said, "Yeah. We really let the fat out of the bag."


When I lost all that weight, I was just getting into Photoshop. Obsessed with my newfound weight-loss, I took a lot of photos of myself. Then I'd pull them into Photoshop and play with all the features. It's a practice that eventually led me to digital scrapbooking. Here are some of the photos of me from back then--about 2005, 2006:


Ok, maybe they are a little--arrogant. But I learned so much about photography! The one on the upper right was my profile on an LDS dating site. I had to remove it because when I met guys I could tell they were disappointed that I wasn't that cute. Oh, the things Photoshop can do...


Tonight I pulled out the camera again. Trevor wasn't sure what I was laughing at all by myself in the computer room...


So here's my question to you all out there--and be honest. I know it might be hard to tell me to my face but...



Have I deteriorated?

Whose Taking Care of Me?

Ever feel like, although you are the ramrod that holds your family together, you are also the least important person in it? I mean, take Mom out of the equation, and the whole family would fall apart. Or at least flounder. And yet, mom's needs are very last. Dead last. I think I am just a little too selfish to accept this difficult fact. Am I the only one who struggles with this? Am I just more selfish than most moms out there? I take care of the man and the baby--but who takes care of ME? Oh wait--I do. When I get the chance. Which I rarely do.

I spent the summer being a Stay At Home Mom. I wrote a post about how work was easier. Well, this what I have to say about that...WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING????

I have never struggled with working as much as I am right now. I've never wanted to be home more. I've always said I like my job, I like working, and I am ok with not being a SAHM. But now--now I'm not so sure. I just can't keep up! How did I do it last semester? I'm tired. No--I'm exhausted. I am teaching seven periods a day with no break. I did this last semester--how did I not, like, DIE? Every second is insane--I'm getting new students sent down every period, and they interupt what I'm doing and I'm multi-tasking and trying to settle them and keep the other kids busy. And then I'm teaching the same thing over and over again--why is this suddenly so difficult? I've been doing it for six years! And then school gets out and I'm rushing to pick up the baby and get dinner on for Trevor and keep the house clean.

He comes home, eats dinner. And he goes to bed.

I do the dishes, sweep the floor, make dinner and serve it, do more dishes, feed the baby, put her to bed, go back up there twenty times to soothe her before she actually goes to sleep. I try to get scrapbooking and blogging done--when I'm lucky enough to have the time--and get lunches ready for the next day and clean up messes and do the laundry and pick up EVERY SINGLE THING he's ever worn which is on the floor since he can't figure out how to use a hamper. I'm tired. Is it ok that I'm tired?

And I'm really not being fair. Trevor will be ticked when he reads this. He's really great with Afton. He puts her down to bed almost as often as I do. He works long 10 hour days and he's tired too. But seriously--how hard is it to use a hamper???

Today was just the hardest day. Work was long and stressful. Trevor is really, really sick. He's throwing up constantly and he's really dizzy. We aren't sure why. Am I a jerk because I'm not thinking, "Oh my poor darling! I'm so sad you're sick! What can I do to serve you?" but instead I'm thinking, "Damn! Now I have to do EVERYTHING!" He can't drive, so I spent the whole evening driving Afton to my sisters, then picking him up then going to Instacare, then going to Walgreens to get his perscription, then getting Afton, then picking up the perscription (and Walgreens took FOREVER so I'm not going there again!) And we get home--and still I'm running a mile a minute feeding the baby, getting her down, running to the store for milk. He sits and watches TV. Like he's been sitting and resting all day.

But he's sick! He really is! He really CAN'T do what I'm doing--I know this. I know he's not faking it. I've seen the blood run from his face when he stands up, and how heavily he leans on me when we walk, and how he had to run to the bathroom when we got to the Instacare to throw up yet again. Why am I not more sympathetic? Why am I not more Christ-like? Why can't I feel more empathy for him and take care of him the way I'm supposed to? Why am I complaining, when he has a geniune and real need?

Maybe because I also have genuine and real needs--but they are NEVER as important as anyone else's.

Ok. I'm done. Please don't think I'm a horrible person. I love my husband with all my heart. I'm completely nuts about him. Everyone knows that. (Gosh I hope he doesn't read this...uh..I LOVE YOU HONEY!!!) I love my baby girl. I am honored to have them both in my life and to be able to serve them. But...today I just want a break! Is that ok??

I'm THAT GIRL.

I got in a fender bender yesterday. My fault. And guess what? I was talking on my cell phone. Yup. I'm that girl. I was stopped at the corner ready to turn right, and talking to Trevor. I was only a minute from my mother-in-law's house. I glanced to check the light, and when I turned back, I was bumping the car in front of me.

I was horrified. I haven't had an accident since 2003. My record is almost pristine. Trevor's IS pristine. And I got in an accident. And I WAS ON MY CELL PHONE! The woman I hit drove a convertible--it was a 2001 and not new, but it was still a beautiful car. She got out of the car and started yelling at me for being on my cell phone. Having ended my call abruptly, I immediately and humbly apologized. What else could I do? I can't deny I was on my phone. TOTALLY took the wind out of her sails. I think she would have much preferred it if I'd yelled right back. We pulled over. There were no injuries--Afton was in the back and didn't seem to really notice it had happened at all. My mother-in-law came and got her soon after so she didn't have to wait in the hot sun. My car is totally fine. There's has a two small dents in the bumper. Not sure how this is going to pan out with my insurance.

Anyway--I wondered to myself, after the lady yelled at me, if SHE had ever talked on her cell phone while driving. I mean, don't most people do that? And as annoying as it is when you see a reckless driver on their phone, it's NOT illegal (yet). Thank goodness I wasn't texting! But then, how many times have I thrown up my hands in fury when I get cut off by someone with a cell phone attached to their face? Don't we all know its dangerous? And we do it anyway! In fact, I SAVE certain phonecalls for when I'm driving, so I have "something to do." How ridiculous is that?

So I've been very aware since the accident. I said to myself, "no more talking on the cell phone while driving." And to my surprise--it's something akin to giving up drugs or alcohol. It's REALLY HARD!!! It's like some kind of addiction! Suddenly driving is so BORING! Remember those days when we didn't have cell phones or computers? And somehow, we got through the day without dying. Now it's like I've had my arm cut off. It's so pathetic. We are so addicted to our technology!

Anyway, that's my story. I hope this doesn't kill my premiums. I hope that ticket doesn't cost me a fortune. Thank goodness the police officer only sited me for following too closely, and not for distracted driving! And I sure hope those people don't suddenly claim an injury. They seemed like the type that would get the most they can out of this situation. But then--I DID hit them. And THEY are the ones that will have to go through the hassle of getting their car repaired. URG!!! I can't believe I'm THAT GIRL. The annoying chick not paying attention while talking on her cell phone! I hate that girl! I yell at that girl all the time! And now--she's ME!!!

I Think I'm Going Crazy

Do you ever find yourself rehearsing conversations in your mind that you WISH you could have, but know you never will?

In describing myself, I've always said I'm the type that doesn't hold grudges. I forgive and forget quite easily--sometimes to the point that I really DO forget that someone has treated me badly, and then I find myself in the same situation a few months later when they do it again. It's true I don't really hold grudges--I simply can't. I'm the complete opposite of stubborn.

But I was thinking that there are a very few people in my life that have treated me badly or disappointed or frustrated me enough that I harbor a grudge--a BIG one. I mean, I don't think about it often. But when it comes up--I just sit there and go over and over madly in my head what I would say to them if I had the chance. And yet I know that if I DID say any of it to them, they'd think I was an emotional psycho and I'd look like a total idiot, and then I'd feel even worse. I think that is why I get so mad--I know there is absolutely NOTHING I can do about it. Nothing is more frustrating to me than to be deliberately misunderstood.

I remember in college this guy thought I'd done something that I didn't do. The evidence against me was pretty strong, but I maintained that I had not done what he thought I had. And he WOULD NOT believe me. No matter what I said. No matter how I explained. He had decided and that was that. It was utterly maddening. And the more I tried to explain, and the angrier I got, the more certain he was that I was "protesting too much."

It's all so very annoying. Why do I let things get to me? Why can't I just let it go? I've been back to work for one day and already the stress and frustration is creeping back. Everything I try to do, all my extra projects that I enjoy, are sabotaged by the same person--who isn't aware they are doing it, and would think I'm totally crazy if I pointed it out.

I think I'm going crazy. Maybe I am crazy. I remember a companion on my mission that made me crazy. She'd do something SO irritating, so I'd do it back, to show her how irritating she was. And then she'd accuse me of doing it! And tell me I'm irritating! And I was like, "But you started it!" and then guess what? I sound like a crazy idiot again.

Such is my life.

I'm going to bed.

A Whole New Lagoon

We went to Lagoon on Tuesday. It's has been six or seven years since I've been there, and wow! It's a whole new park! I can't believe how many new rides there were! Everything was all newly painted and looked great! I have a new favorite ride. The Spider. It's friggin' awesome. It was there the last time I went, but it was closed. So I'm so glad I got to go on it! And then there was that new ride The Bat. WHERE did that come from? I don't remember anything in the commericals about that ride opening. Wicked was a great ride too--but I still liked the Spider the best!

Anyway, we went with our friends Heather and David--both of whom served with me in South Africa on my mission. We had a total blast! Heather, who didn't grow up here, pointed out that Lagoon must be total childhood nostalgia for me, since I was constantly pointing at things and saying, "I remember when..." And she's right--I used to go there every summer, sometimes several times. That's back when you could afford to do such things. Now, it's just so expensive! (Thanks to my sister-in-law Becky who tracked down those discount tickets for us! You saved us like $30 bucks!!)

And you know what? I finally got kissed on the Terror Ride. I've been waiting for that since I was like 12. I don't know why this is such a big deal, but it is. Because I've never gone to Lagoon with a boyfriend. How is that possible? And Trevor and I have never been together, either. HE hadn't been for about six or seven years, too! So, I required him to kiss me on the Terror Ride. I'm so glad he complied. I had a roommate once who told me that her FIRST kiss was at LAGOON with a BOY SHE MET there on the TERROR RIDE. It just gets better and better. That's like, every teenager's dream. Ok, maybe I was just a weird teenager. The picture on the left here, by the way, is me ON the Colossas. Heather took it while we were still on the ride! She's so funny!


There's not a ride at Lagoon I won't go on. But I found that I had a little more fear than I've ever had before--which I think is what being a parent does to you. And I got a little light headed on a few of the rides, like the Swings and even Colossas. I never get light headed! I'm getting so old! But--I wasn't as bad as our wimpy men! Though both of them are usually fine at amusement parks, they both had a few stomach issues. Heather and I were totally fine. At one point we just ditched them while they lay at the terrace, and went on a ton of roller coasters without them! They even had to buy some Dramamine! (How do you spell that?)



By 7:00 the boys were done--they refused to ride anything for the last two hours, the big babies. So Heather dragged me on to the Rocket as our last ride. It's one of those rides that you feel a lot of anticipation, and then--it's just OVER. The whole ride is like 2 seconds long.



We went out to eat after that, and then went back to Heather's house and watched a movie. We didn't pick up Afton from my Mom's until 1:00 a.m.! What a great day! Afton, on the other hand, did NOT have such a great day. She spent half of it with my sister Cindy and half of it with my mom. But the poor thing was sick! We had no idea--it just hit her that day! She was throwing up! Poor little thing. She slept in until 1:00 p.m. the next morning!



So, now I've been to Lagoon, I want to keep going every year. I'm hoping to have a family reunion there next year. Our family is at a great place to do that next year--even the littlest ones can ride SOME rides, and the older ones are big enough to go off on their own. I hope we can pull it off. It's no Disneyland, but still--I love Lagoon!