Daddy's Baby

I guess LG had been trying 

to grow his hair out again.

I hadn't noticed

until a few days ago he

lamented to me,

"Alice, I forget how far back

my hair has receded

until I grow it out."

Bad for LG.

Good for me.

I love his hair buzzed.

Imagine my surprise

today

when Caroline

brought this photo to me

and said,

"Mom this is so strange.

Dad doesn't have pokey hair."

LG I guess

you are going to have to 

keep

your

hokey pokey

style.

We're you trying

to grow it out

at hopes of

revisiting

those newlywed days?

Better luck next time.

Momming

Did you know that there

are college degrees

in family science?

I never got it when I was younger.

Why would anyone

go to all that school

just to learn how to

be married and have a family?

Can't anyone do that?

Doesn't everyone do that?

I felt that those who majored

in family studies

were just doing so

because they wanted

an easy Bachelor's Degree.

Or they were looking

to build a resume

for their future spouse.

"Look at me,

I want to

spend eternity

in your kitchen."

The older I get,

and the more I attend

marriage counseling,

I am grateful for

the other suckers who

went through all the work

to help me to figure

out the complicated

parts that I never

understood back then.

And honestly: still don't.

But,

just like everyone else,

sometimes,

I get it right,

without any studying at all.

Sometimes I get it right

out of sure dedication

and practice.

In the kitchen,

I need no therapy.

I am the boss.

In one small area

I've got the momming down

to a science.

I'm a PHDmf.

People Hone Down

(my food)

Here is a photo

for evidence.

Tuesday afternoon

this is what my kitchen counter looked like

right before I headed

out to my real job.

(ha ha - we all know

momming is my real job)

white chicken chili, homemade bread,

and after-school cookies

Let me brag for a moment.

Just the other day,

while we were on our way to soccer

Abigail received a text

from a charming young man

with whom we attend church.

We had taken his family

some cookies the day before.

He said,

and I quote,

"I would marry you

just so I could get your mom

in the deal."

Fist pumps were had

all around.

This little exchange

made my day.

Add to the fact

that Abigail's boy buddy

at school

(who has learned to cook

out of sheer desperation

because his mom doesn't)

calls me

"the regular Rachel Ray."

And

The neighborhood

adolescents' each have

their own

favorites of mine

whether it be

pumpkin bread,

rolls,

cinnamon rolls,

chocolate chip cookies,

cake pops,

homemade bread,

pizelles,

or pizza.

Yeah I screw up

in the momming

category

often.

But today I just want to take

 a moment to scream from my laptop:

"Guess what?

When it comes to

momming,

all it takes

is some skill in the kitchen!"

Momming comes naturally.

It comes best

while wearing an apron.

You can't learn it at college.

The reason any food is good

is because

the cooking of it has been

practices and practiced

and mixed,

and spooned,

and baked,

with LOVE

til it reaches

the status of

perfection.

God had it all figured out.

He gave us plenty of time

to get it right while they are young

and didn't know any different.

By the time

they just want to hang out with their friends

the moms who have put

in the most

hours

WIN!

They can't resist bringing

their friends home

for some down home food.

They don't know it

but they are all getting 

some good old momming

all of the time.

Every bite

includes a

subliminal message

"drugs are bad"

"believe in yourself"

"I love you"

"I'm always here for you"

I might still have a bunch

of stuff to figure out, 

but when I think of

my success in the kitchen,

I know

that even

without a college degree

I'm doing pretty good.

It's not that complicated.

It's called I love my kids

enough to cook for them.

No matter how else I screw up,

I know one thing.

As long as I feed everyone

til I die

I'll always

keep them coming

back for more.

Did I mention

that my girls

have all been fighting

over who gets

which  recipes of mine when they

get married?

I told them I would

make them each their own

recipe box.

Maybe I won't have to cook til I die

after all.

Thank goodness.

Newga

This little lion has been with Caroline from birth.

It was a baby shower gift.

Thanks Aimee!!

Caroline named her

sometime in her first year.

Her name is 

New-Gu

or Newga.

Every night before this sleeping angel goes to sleep

we have a routine.

We go potty, change into clean panties and p.j.'s, and read three books.

We then give each other big kisses

and I say,

"I love you the mostest."

She then repeats it back to me

anywhere between 5 and 10 times.

Then I pull out Newga

(the last step til sleep)

and proceed to shower Caroline

with kisses from her favorite lion pal.

Caroline always tells Newga to "Stop it Newga"

while trying to hide under her covers.

Newga promises to behave,

Caroline comes out

and gives her a kiss

and then shares with lioness

her favorite pink blankie.

As I walk out of the room

I say

"Goodnight Caroline.
Goodnight Newga."

Thank you to

Ms. Sunshine

(the pre-school teacher)

for a very permanent reminder

of how powerfully

this nightly ritual

speaks love

into Caroline's heart.

Caroline brought this home on Valentine's Day.

I am so glad Ms. Sunshine

wrote down exactly what

Caroline told her

even if she had no idea

what she was talking about.

We all knew

exactly who Caroline

loves.

I am so grateful to God

for giving me Caroline.

She is spoiled rotten.

We all love her so much.

Thank you God for Caroline

and for Newga

as a nightly reminder of

how blessed I am

to love and be loved.

My own worst enemy

I've been reading the most excellent book

called

Gaze Into Heaven.

(review coming soon)

It chronicles near-death

experiences of Mormon pioneers

and it has been life altering for me

as I have pondered

the after-life.

What will it be like for

me to meet my maker

and account for mortality?

I really really hope that

the good outweighs the bad.

As I recently talked with a friend

who has anorexia,

we discussed

how we all seem

to just transfer

one bad behavior to the next.

She started struggling with anorexia

when she was overcoming

a spending problem.

I can't seem to be disciplined

enough to stay under budget

while also staying under calorie allotment.

And forget being happy and kind

and under budget and under calorie.

It's going to take me a lifetime

to conquer all of the above

at the same time.

But this morning

while running

I had an epiphany.

It comes from

The Book of Mormon

Mosiah 3:19

19 For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

Like a ton of bricks

it hit me all at once.

My mortal body

is my own worst enemy.

My whole purpose 

on this earth

is to show that my spirit

can be in charge

of my body.

My body is dead

without my spirit.

My spirit (me) is what makes 

me (my body) do or not do anything.

When I struggle with stuff

it's not my spirit,

it's the flesh.

The flesh is naughty.

The spirit is perfect.

They are always at odds

with one another.

"Hey body Alice

quit eating so much."

"Shut up spirit Alice,

you're so goody-goody.

We're gonna

eat drink and be merry til we die."

"Bad idea body Alice,

your spirit

wants to have its glorified form

and it knows a whole lot

more than you do.

I'm smarter.

I'm better

and my whole goal 

is to make you perfect.

I'm in charge

so put that doughnut down.

NOW."

The flesh is weak,

the spirit is strong.

This may seem so simple

to you all,

but it is an epic

principle

that I aim

to use

from now on

when trying to conquer

my transfer of

bad behaviors.

When my flesh is weak

I plan to tap into

that strong strong strong

spirit

and I plan to utilize

the God of all spirits

to help me 

whip that body into shape

more often.

Sharing Time - I want to follow Jesus

Post number 1400 today.

My blog has evolved.

I love its ability to share information

on all levels.

Today I am working on

Sharing Time

for Primary.

I get to teach 50

3-8 year olds

all at once

and try to keep their attention.

I can't wait.

I just got done creating this coloring page.

At the end of the lesson,

the kids will get to

express what they've learned

in the way they like best:

coloring with crayons

Before they draw,

I will be playing with them.

We'll sing

Do As I'm Doing

and

play a matching game

while standing up

and sitting down.

They will learn

about the above 5 portraits

from Christ's life

and how Jesus Christ

set an example for us

and taught us all things that

we should do.

The list is endless

but we will focus on

working, being baptized, teaching, praying, and serving.

I love Jesus Christ

my Savior

and I love

that I belong to a His church

where the focus is

teaching and learning

at all ages.

And most of all

I love that I belong to a church

that knows

the best way for us to learn

is 

for us

to teach.

Drop me a comment

or an e-mail

and I will send

you the

word doc.

I need a mom.

I am sure you have all noticed my lack of posts this week
because I know you all come here every day with super high hopes
because I am the world's most amazing blogger.

O.k. o.k. I'm not, I know.
I may not be the world's best blogger
and I am most certainly not the world's best mom,
but guess what I am all they've got.
They'll get over it eventually,
after some good therapy
that I will hold off on as long as possible
so they have to pay for it themselves.
I mean really
if the choice is between therapy
and cold cereal,
I am pretty sure the shredded mini wheats
or the more appreciated at the moment.

What am I good for anyway?
I'll tell you what.

I always throw away the empty bottles in the shower.
I always make sure that everyone is fed.
I always make sure everyone has clean clothes.
I am always the first one to hand over the trashcan when someone is sick.
I buy all the food.
I buy all the toiletries.
O.k LG buys it, but I purchase it,
and you all know that it's not the easiest task
to keep household items in stock.

We never (I mean NEVER) run out of toilet paper.
(O.k. we do all the time in our bathroom where
at least a roll a day escapes through the floor vent
and can never seem to replace itself. This always seems to happen
when I am done with my after-run #2. I always get a little mournful when I notice that once again I am up sheeshcreek - and my husband has absolutely nothing to do with the disappearing TP or the empty dispenser and it really isn't his fault that he's at work when I am the most in need. I love bargaining with a three year old ever so carefully to bring me a roll of the most necessary item in the hygienist's closet that is missing from MY bathroom!)
But it is never missing from the house all together,
and that is totally because I am awesome.

Caroline came home from pre-school today highly disappointed. She has been talking about kangaroo zoo for a month and they finally got to go today but after playing on the blow-up bouncy toys for the hour with her class, she turned to her teacher, and said, "This isn't a kangaroo zoo. There aren't any kangaroos." She was so totally bummed.

I brought her home and gave her cheetos and an orange and then bought her some bubble gum.

I got dinner ready, cleaned the house, showered off my running filfth, and even had two minutes to spare to write this post before running off to work for the fourth night in a row. When I come home tonight too tired to even check my facebook, I will realize for the hundreth time

that I need my own mom.
Every mom needs a mom.
It's too bad mine lives in kangaroo zoo.

Hide Yo Girls

The other day Abigail was hanging out in her cami.

She kept trying to push it.

A few weeks ago, 

I told the girls they could wear their camis to bed

for comfort if they wanted.

LeGrand had enough and laid down the law.

"No more camis!

Before I know it,

you're going to be

wearing them outside too."

He told Abigail to go to her room and put on a shirt, "Now." She wasn't moving. He said, "You better get to it, or I am going to start stripping down right now, one piece of clothing at a time." I was cracking up. I told her to call dad on his bluff. There was no way he was going buck naked.

He got both his shirt off and his undershirt,

and took his belt off.

When he started unzipping his pants,

she ran off screaming

in horror.

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

LG put his shirts back on.

He was feeling all exposed,

especially since Abigail made fun of his bare body.

Or should I say bear body?

We don't believe in letting our daughters as hoochie mamas.
We want to keep them sweet and innocent for as long as possible: their whole lives preferably.

I was raised the same way. I am not going to lie. I hated it. As a teenager, I fought my parents on it daily. One time my mom tore a dress that I was wearing in two (right in front of my boyfriend) because she was sick of tired of me wearing things that were too short. (I hope my sister has forgiven me by now, it was her dress) I bought my own bikinis and wore them when my mom wasn't looking. I washed them myself and hid them away in the back of my drawers. I wanted to be like all the other girls. My brothers seemed pretty keen on making sure my sister and I dress modestly too, which we didn't understand because they were perfectly fine dating the girls who didn't really cover up. I now understand they were being protective.

And you know what? WE ABSOLUTELY SHOULD BE PROTECTIVE.

Some people may think that our modesty policy is a little absurd, but do you know what? I don't care.

While most of my girlfriends were having sex in high school and some ended up pregnant, I proudly stayed a virgin until I was married. I am glad that I did. I never regret that decision. Not a day in my life have I felt like I made the wrong choice. I want for my girls to be chaste and make the same choice to remain abstinent until they are married. And yes, dressing modestly has a direct correlation.


I love my sweet sweet girls.
I love that they are pretty good about dressing modestly.
They seem to get the principle that modesty provides protection.

I want them to love themselves for who they are
amazing daughters of God.
They truly can 
change the world
just by being 
a source of light.

Fellowship

I just put this little diddy

together

as I am going

visiting teaching

today.

I made it in Microsoft Word

but couldn't get it

the same in Paint,

but I guess

it's close enough

for you to the get the picture.

I am now off on my run

and I will be pondering

this month's

visiting teaching message

about

conversion.

The quote above

by

Elder Ballard

is the part

I liked the most.

Fellow-shipping

is tricky

when you live in

the state of Utah

and I am ashamed to

say that I have

kind of given up

on making friends.

I am going to try harder.

I also loved the quote by

President Hinckley

 “we must make an increasingly substantial effort to assist them as they find their way. Every one of them needs three things: a friend, a responsibility, and nurturing with ‘the good word of God’.

Back in the days

when I was the

President

of the

Relief Society

this was the theme

of our work.

We wanted

all the sisters in our ward

to have

1- a friend,

2- a responsibility,

and

3 - nourishment with the

good word of God.

I miss the days

when I got to serve

alongside

other women in

the Relief Society.

Those are some

of my most

cherished

friendships

and I find

that I don't make

as many friends

when I am stuck

in a church calling that

is fully autonomous.

Braxton Richard Lane Wills

Today is an emotional day for me.

My nephew Braxton,

who passed away in May,

would have been 13 today.

The loss a whole family feels

is so profound

and lingering.

We miss this little guy

so much.

He was so full of life.

He is known for being

sensitive and caring

kind and loving

and

all boy.

He has

a great

sense of humor.

I have seen several

miracles

since his passing

but one that sticks with me

the most

is the day

that Braxton found me on

my running trail.

He just ran right along with me

until I stopped

at the top of a hill.

His presence was

so profound,

I had to stop to see if

I could see him with my own eyes.

I talked to him

and told him how much

I love him.

When I started to cry

and tell him how sad I

was that he was gone,

he immediately ran off the other way.

He turned back with a smile

as if to say

"Don't be sad,

I'm happy,

I'm busy,

in fact I have to run right now.

I've stolen away enough time

to find you today.

I just wanted to tell you

to be happy

because I love you too."

I am giving myself permission 

to sit around today

and cry

because sometimes

tears are the best way to heal.

I thank my beautiful niece Dani

(Braxton's oldest sister)

and her band

Roatrip Romance

for writing and recording

this beautiful song

called 

"Wait on you"

It's balm to my soul today.

 I guess heaven

couldn't wait on

Braxton.

And I guess I better

quit crying

and get out on the

running trail

like I would normally

to show Braxton

that I am honoring his wishes

to not be sad

and to

live my life to the fullest.

I know he wants

me to

appreciate life

for all that it is.

Another thing

he told me

on the running trail is

how blessed I am

to have this mortality.

I love you Braxton.

Thanks for

teaching me so much.

Here is a great talk

by a living apostle

about

finding

joy in life.

Braxton would

approve of the message.

In fact,

it's the same message

he delivered

to me

in about

300 less words.