Changes

After serving in the Young Women's presidency for over two years in two different wards, I have been released. I am sad and relieved all rolled into one headachy ball. Figure that out.

I am now serving as the second counselor in the Primary presidency. I think it is going to be a nice change.

Maybe I will have more time to do something I love. . . READ! I'd love to hear what you are reading right now. Put it in the comment box!

PS. Week one without facebook, and it hasn't really been that hard. I did have to briefly activate my account so that I could get some information on there, but I wasn't even tempted to try and catch up. On and off within 10 minutes. My plan right now is to get through April, and then possibly reactivate in May, but only check it once a week. :/

Scary Stories

1. A few weeks ago I was getting in my car at the Walmart parking lot when I noticed the car parked in front of me had two men sitting in the front seat. When I saw one of the men pointing out at me I hurried to get in my car and locked the doors. One of the guys came and knocked on my window. I asked him what he wanted through the glass. He asked me to open my door, I said, "What do you need?" He told me that their car was dead and they needed a jump. I explained (through the glass) that I didn't have jumper cables. He said they did and asked me to get out. I have heard too many bad stories that started this way, so I said, "no" and told him I needed to leave to pick up my son. Who knows, maybe I turned down an opportunity to help someone, but I didn't feel safe.

2. Today I left the elementary school and a silver car with a sun-roof pulled out behind me. I didn't think anything of it until it made the same 3 turns I did. I turned onto a road that turns back onto the road I was already on, the car followed. I thought that was strange, and the car continued to follow me very closely as I continued to turn on roads leading back to my house. I started to think maybe the car was following me, so I drove past my road and turned onto a different road. He followed. My body started to literally shake as I realized that this man was following me. For probably 5-10 minutes I was turning onto every road, speeding, trying to follow the advice given on "Burn Notice" (kind of funny now) for how to lose someone. I went 45 mi/hr on 30/hr neighborhood roads, turning as often as I could. Finally, I could not see the car behind me, so I drove out to a main road, and the guy drove past me and looked right at me and smiled. Then he turned at the next opportunity and got behind me. I finally went to a public parking spot, and I didn't see him anymore. The boys and I went into a small restaurant for lunch and I kept looking out the window, hoping not to see this silver car. I called Joe and he asked my why I didn't call the police; I explained that I felt like a paranoid girl calling the police to say someone was following me--but I KNOW without a doubt that he was. I did finally call the police so that they could make a note of it in case I see the guy or his car again. I hurried in the house and locked all the doors, shut and locked all the windows. I'm nervous to let the kids play outside today. I never drove by the house, but that guy followed me all over the neighborhoods around here--what if he comes back to look for our van? We haven't been parking in the garage because there are too many bikes/scooters/ toys. . . but maybe we will have to figure out a way to park in there. 

Who knows--maybe the guy saw our BYU license plate and wanted to ask me about being a Mormon. . . but I tell you what, I am still shaking, and it's been almost 2 hours.

On the way home from the police station a silver car with a sunroof was behind me, and I started worrying that somehow he was still following me--even from the police station. 

Someone knocked on the door after we got home--probably some salesperson--but I took the boys in our upstairs closet and shut all the doors in-between, hoping the people outside couldn't hear our noise. 

This is no way to live. 

I need to invest in some Mace or self-defense classes. 

On a Break

Dear Facebook,

It's not you, it's me. I like you too much, and it's time to step back and reevaluate. You are great, really. I love hearing from friends and seeing pictures of their babies. I enjoy talking with the women in the Quad 4 group--we support and help each other. I like the convenience of sending messages to groups of people--you can't have group conversations with email. At least not so easily. You even support my religion by letting me share (and find) clips and talks I find inspiring.  It is fun to celebrate successes with friends, and sometimes I learn about friends who are hurting and in need of support.

But it's time for me to let go. I need to actually celebrate and help people. I should be helping kids with homework instead of straining my eyes on the phone while sitting next to them. One day I spent hours with you arguing, defending mothers who work at home instead of actually getting my work done. If I had to define a breaking point, that was it. I have also been thinking of me. I need time to be me, to figure out me, to do the things I've always wanted to do.

I still want to be friends, but give me a while.

Thanks for understanding.

Love,
Jenn

*You can always find me here. Leave a comment, send me an email, call me on the phone.

Quarterly Review

Can you believe that we're already 1/4 of the way through 2012? No way! It's getting hot in Dallas, and while I don't want to wish my time away, I am not so excited about the next 3 months' weather.

I recently read a book by Linda Eyre called "A Joyful Mother of Children." I think I must have needed some lifting up, because I went on a search for books about motherhood and women in general. I love being a mom, but it can be very demanding and wearing with few breaks. Another book I got (same author) is called "I Didn't Plan to Be a Witch." Can you tell what I think I need to work on? LOL. Anyway, one concept I really appreciated was that she talks about how hard it is to cut wood with a dull saw--instead of spending so much time ineffectively cutting we should take a few minutes to sharpen it so that the work is better and more efficient--now relate to being a mom (or to anything you do). So I've been pondering my New Year's goals, how I've been doing, and thinking about the things I would like to start doing or doing differently.

• I got  Logan and Madison signed up for soccer (Check)
• Still working on the preschool for Grant (hopefully will know by the end of the week)
• Pretty consistent at giving Joe a kissaroo when he gets home from work.
• Piano lessons. . . definitely more consistent than previously, but could do better. My goal is once a week, it's been more like twice a month. 

I had some other goals written down(optimism, gratitude, and serviceable) but those are less check-offable, and traits that I am constantly striving to achieve. I still have a long ways to go. :)

Some things to sharpen my saw:

• Exercise for 40 min 4 days a week. (My goals is to do this during nap-time. Some weeks I keep up, some weeks not so good.)
• Be in a book club. (I actually started one this month and we have it scheduled through Dec. Yay!)
• Write an old-fashioned letter each week. (Molly--you are first on my list.) 
• Go to bed earlier. (I am pretty sure the best thing I can do for my family and for myself, but SO hard to do!)
• Learn to play Claire de Lune. 

Yeah, there are many more areas of improvement, but this will be enough to work on for now. :) 

Logan Pants and More

Today, while Joe was visiting a family that he home-teaches, I left the kids playing together and went up to my room, shut the door, and ate some dark chocolate mini Hershey candy bars while I stretched out on my bed. The silence and aloneness was lovely.

I spent a few minutes laughing to myself while I though about Logan. He gets up early. Like 5 a.m. early. So that he can spend time reading, playing on the computer, and making Pokemon cards before going to school. He doesn't want to wake up his brothers, so he gets dressed in the dark, and sometimes his attire can be a little interesting.

Like the time that his pants were on backwards.

Or the other day, just as he was getting ready to walk out the door, I heard Joe say to him, "Go ask your  mom if those are your pants." (I'm giggling just writing this down.) So he walks into the kitchen and says, "Are these my pants?" I look at him, and they fit him perfectly (most of his pants are pretty big, as you can see above). I tell him to pull up his shirt, and when he does, I see that the jeans are pretty tight around the waste with heart pockets that are pretty tight on his bum. Apparently they had somehow been put in his folded laundry pile (ok, it must've been me, but that's unusual!), and he had just pulled a pair of pants out of his drawer in the dark. I wish I had a picture, but he's probably glad I don't. When I asked Joe about it he said, "Well, I thought they looked a little too fashionable (think boys wearing skinny jeans) on him." We all had a good laugh, but good thing we caught it before he got to school.

************************
Also, ever since my pregnancy with Ammon I have been getting extremely hot at night. Part of that is that we live in a warm area. Part of it is that I grew up in PA and we didn't have heat upstairs where we slept, so I prefer it to be very cold when I sleep. And it doesn't help that for some crazy reason the master bedroom is the hottest room in the house (even after closing all the vents, AND turning the heat down to 60 degrees!). So, without embarrassing myself too much, let me just say that I have been extremely uncomfortable temperature-wise when I sleep. In fact, I have been contemplating going to get my blood taken to see if I am going through menopause at the age of 30!!

I bought a duvet cover.

My plan was to put a very, very thin, old quilt (hardly thicker than a sheet) inside of it so that I would still have a blanket, but one that would not make me sweat all night.

Tell me, please, how you keep the blanket from bunching up inside of the duvet?

But I have slept better this past week than I have for a very, very long time.

Lucky for me that my husband is a good sport. :)

Broken Promise(s)

A long time ago my mom and I went to visit a family with a bunch of boys. I remember looking at the grimy walls and finger-printed t.v. and promising myself that my house would never display such artwork.

Today while wiping off blackened doors and walls, I realized that I broke that promise.

Here are a *few* other promises that I have broken:

• My children will not have dirty faces (how hard can it be to just wipe it off?).
• My children will never have snotty noses (read above).
• My children will not have temper tantrums in public (bad parenting).
• My children will be trained to not touch my breakable things (very teachable).
• My children will clean up their mess before making a new one (again, teachable).
• My children will always listen the first time (good parenting).
• I will be the parent who remembers what it is like to be a kid (how can you forget?).
• I will be the parent who is endlessly patient and loving (good parenting=good kids).
• I will be the parent who always has a clean home (good parenting=clean, helpful kids).
• I will be the parent who always has fabulous meals planned for each day of the week (what else do you do if you stay home all day?).

Failure or Perspective?

12 Year-Old Me Meets 30 Year-Old Me

*Please note that if you were involved in one of these stories, I am not writing about you and am not attacking in anyway. This is simply about me growing up and figuring out who I am. 

Scholastic Book Fair, Sugar Grove Elementary 199(3?):

I am in love with the Sweet Valley Twins Book series, and they are selling one at the book fair. The book is $1.99. I can't decide if I am going to spend my hard-earned allowance on this book, and while discussing it with a friend, she says something like, "It's only $2. What's the big deal?" Boy do I feel dumb. A few days later I try to convince a different friend to spend her money on the book by saying, "It's only $2--what's the big deal? You should get it." She replies, "Yeah, but it's my $2, and I'm saving it for something else." Why didn't I say that?

Fast-forward 18 years:


I am eating with some beautiful and talented friends and we are discussing Valentine's Day. They are throwing out complicated (to me) Valentine's cards ideas. The conversation is roughly as follows:

me: Are you doing that for her teacher? (I never thought about doing a special Valentine for the teacher.)


friend(s): No, I (we) make our Valentines.

me: You don't just buy the ones from WalMart for $2?

friend(s): No, they come home and I throw all those away.

me: Yeah, I LOVE that!!!

friend(s): (something about making them cute and personal.)

me: Yeah, Madison put some silly bands in hers and Logan got Star Wars cards that change pictures. They love 'em, and we did them all last night while we watched a movie. It took 30 minutes.


I'm not fancy or complicated and I hate stressing over things (like planning birthday parties). I'm not gonna' lie. . . sometimes I feel guilty about this personality flaw. But I feel like I'm finally coming to terms with who I am. And I'm okay if other people know I'd rather buy already made cards at WalMart than spend my time making some. We are all awesome in different ways, and that isn't one of my ways of being awesome. I think I'd even be ok telling someone that I didn't want to spend $2 on a book. Being 30 is wonderful. 


A more normal face (which, by the way, Joe says must mean I am confident if I can put that crazy picture out for the public to see. lol, that's one way to look at it. :) 

Thinking Thursday, and something truly frightful (but downright funny)

1. My brother Brent just got his mission call to somewhere is Brazil (never heard of the mission and can't remember what it is). 

2. Last night I put a pound of spinach in the lasagna. I was either finding a good way to get my kids to eat spinach, OR, I was ruining an entire pan of lasagna. Even Joe said it was good, so that means I have another way to hide veggies. Actually, my kids love veggies, just not spinach.

3. Signed the kids up for soccer, which means the next 10 weeks are booked--specifically Saturdays. After paying a good amount of money to register and to buy shoes, shin guards, socks, balls, and some sportsy clothes, I think we are good to go. Madi had her first practice Tues (I think she's going to do well) and Logan's is tonight.

4. Ammon is almost one!! He wants so badly to be a big kid (see pic below). He's close to walking, and he just figured out (not mastered) how to get down the stairs. In all fairness, he rarely wants to get down, but always wants to get up. 

4a. We've encouraged something naughty. . . when we say "no" he smiles and starts shaking his head. It's pretty cute, so we let him get away with telling us "no" and laugh instead. I see trouble in our future.

5. Grant and I have been working each morning on our letters and numbers. I know a lot of your children the same age already know these things--but he's baby number three, which means he is interested in other things, I have other things going on, and quite honestly I'm not overly worried about it--he's going to be in school for the next 13+ years of his life! OK, so I actually feel like a bad mom that he hasn't quite mastered writing his first name (among other things). But you know what? Logan knew all of his letters and numbers before Madison was born (at 21 months, so there). Anyway, my point is that Grant and I finally have time together to play games and learn, it is going well, and we are having fun. 

6. Since Joe started teaching seminary, he has been getting up at 4:30 a.m., which means I wake up at 4:30 a.m. (not to be confused with getting up). We don't go to bed early enough to avoid being tired during the day. But on Tuesday we went to bed at 9:00 and I didn't need a nap the next day! I'm actually considering getting up early and doing something constructive in the morning. It really would require getting to bed earlier, which is hard because when the kids go to bed I feel like I'm finally free. 

7. Truly frightening but funny at the same time: Madison took this picture a while ago (my crazy face). I laughed so hard when I saw it, and I have been debating whether or not I should show anyone. Because come on, it's FUNNY! But it's also kind of embarrassing. So I don't know how long I will leave this on here, and if you see it, please don't think any less of me, just laugh.

Random from the week

Finally set up the trampoline. = Many hours of play, exercise, and fun.

*note* the neighbor's are not allowed to jump on it (their parents' rule, not ours). I guess that might not be such a bad thing.

Grant dumped an entire tube of blue paint on the carpet floor. Luckily it was (mostly) water-soluble. I have been scrubbing for days to get it out, but when it dries it comes back up to the surface and I scrub some more. 

*note* the best part about this is that he also got the paint all over his face. He looks smurfish. 

Found some decent curtains at Target on super clearance at $6 a panel. Also found curtain rod at Lowe's for $4. Not exactly my favorite of either, but as we are in a hopefully non-permanent rental home, they will do.

*note* the curtain rod is a few inches too short. We only hung them up on one window because I can't decide whether or not I like it better with curtains or bare. All I have right now is a pathetic camera-phone picture, or I'd get your opinion.

A little bit of TMI: Now that Ammon is nearing his first birthday, Aunt Flo has returned.

*note*awful awful awful. Why do women have to go through so much crap? Seriously.

And that about sums up this week at the McGregor's. 

TV or not TV

As I mentioned a few posts ago, we got a bigger than 15" T.V.

This has been a much debated topic in our house because I LOVE not watching television.


I grew up in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, and the only television we watched was a very fuzzy channel 12. Instead I read up in my tree, read in the fields, walked in the woods, and did lots and lots of work around the farm. OK, so maybe I was supposed to do lots of work, but I whined so much that I probably didn't do as much as I think I did. And I should probably note that I did not think it was cool at the time to not watch all the shows my peers were watching.

My point is: I hate the noise of the TV. I hate the time wasted in front of the TV. I think that kids should be outside running around and playing with their friends, reading books, doing art, or playing an instrument. Something constructive and healthy.

But. . . when we do family movie nights, it was kind of annoying that we couldn't see the movie without squinting. And my parents surprised us with a Wii for Christmas--and while I think that could also be a time-waster, I am actually excited about the interaction and exercise it could potentially provide. And then there's General Conference. And wouldn't it be nice to maybe someday invite friends over to watch a movie?

So we got one.

Then came the issue of trying to figure out where to put it. At first I wanted it go upstairs in the play area so that my living area could remain distraction-free. But there isn't enough seating upstairs for everyone to enjoy the movie. Plus it's a pain to drag all of the food and dishes upstairs on pizza night. But the main reason I considered putting the t.v. in the main living area is that it is the room that is most likely to be clean and fresh and relaxing (despite what Madison is telling everyone). And let's face it, if I am going to cuddle up and watch a movie, I want it to be in a nice atmosphere--and sometimes the play area is not that place (unless, of course, I want to spend 30 minutes cleaning it, which I don't want to do after the kids are in bed).

The final decision: TV in the downstairs living area.

This presented its own problems, which included several different furniture arrangements. I couldn't win it all, and after Joe kindly moved the piano all over the living room for arrangement experiments, it is now blocking the fire place, which I guess is ok because we don't even use the fire place, but it is a little sad to me anyway.

We do not have cable or satellite, which I am hoping stays that way forever regardless of whether or not we ever have money to pay for it.

I think we've turned it on for one movie night (which I wasn't there for because my dear husband surprised me with a babysitter and took me out on a date!), for a few you-tube videos (check out "cello wars", and some "just dance" and "wii sports." I'm not totally convinced, but so far so good.

On new year's resolutions

Before I say anything else, you should know that I am typing this on my iPhone in a parking lot facing a lake while I wait for the time in between Logan and Madison's first semester award assembly. Ammon is snoring in his carseat and Grant went to work with dad today (because he has been asking for a while and dad told him that Friday (today) he could go).

Let me tell you, I have had a battle going on inside of me because I can think of 101 things I could be doing with only one small child in tow . . . cleaning a house still suffering from Christmas break or going shopping are my top choices. But I keep reminding myself that I am a SAHM (stay at home mom) so that I can go to all of these things for my children, and in the long run it is better time spent.

The SAHM conversation has been going on in my head a lot lately. I feel like our generation is fairly supportive of SAHMs, but I still find I'm defending myself often. Not long ago I was having a conversation about how we didn't get a second car until we'd been married for 6 years and we were in Ohio, expecting baby #3. This person, someone I love very much, said something like, "yeah, but you didn't have a job to get to." That really stung-- and I said something like, "I did have a job, and I was stranded at home alone with 2 little kids, and it was very difficult."

Anyway, I've been so busy that I haven't had time to think of who I wanted to be this next year. It's so easy to see your own weaknesses but everyone else's strengths. This can really get a person down sometimes! Some things I want to make sure happen this year are:

Be more dilligent at teaching the kids piano;

Get Logan and Madison signed up for a sport;

Get Grant signed up for preschool;

Spend my time more wisely;

Be a more optimistic person, and have more spontaneous fun with the family;

Greet Joe with a smile and a kiss each day when he walks in the door;

Buy Joe the camera of his dreams; dear Joe, I was rereading this, thinking that some stuff (especially punctuation) was different, and now I know why. I wish you many nice dreams; maybe you can subconsciously alter them to include that camera. ; ). 

Be filled with gratitude and a desire to help others;

Come what may, and love every single minute; and

Find peace with who I am while striving to be better.

Getting Ready

I just put the kids in bed and am getting ready to finish the cleaning before Joe picks up my parents and grandma from the airport. I'm listening to Christmas music and thinking. I don't get a lot of time to do that. 

So for memory's sake, here are some of those thoughts:

I can't wait for everyone to get here and to start celebrating. Fun fun fun!

We are SO blessed. Sometimes I complain, and sometimes I can only see the green grass on the other side.

But: I have a good husband. I have four beautiful, healthy, smart, good children. I grew up in a good house with wonderful parents and I got a good education. I am able to stay home and play with the kids. Joe's work is going well. We live in a great house with modern conveniences that could not have even been dreamed about 100 years ago. I have the gospel and know and understand my purpose in life. We are about to celebrate our Savior's birth and life, and I am SO grateful for His atonement. 

Life is really great. 

While the Family Sleeps

I woke up this morning--well actually Ammon woke me up this morning--at 4:30 a.m. Joe brought him in for me to nurse, and instead of falling back to sleep it was a total "Oh my heck it's almost Thanksgiving, which means it's almost Christmas which means that it's almost the New Year and I have not done everything I wanted to get done!

So I sent off some emails and wrote some lists and I'm starting to feel tired again. I don't know if I will be able to sleep with this racing mind, though. Which means that today I might be tired and less able to actually cross thing off of those lists. 

The house is incredibly quiet. And dark. If I had gone to bed a little earlier last night then 5 a.m. might be a really nice time to get up and get things done and have some alone time. Also if it wasn't Saturday. 

Youth Dances

Going to them as an adult is not the same as going to them as a teenager.

I'm wiped out.

Fashionista

I feel an urgency to write down as many little memories as I can before I forget them. Sorry to you. (And you only get to look at one awesome leg because I don't know how to make it smaller. Double sorry.)In the seventh and eighth grade I went through some amazing growth spurts. I seriously grew like 4 inches in a month. OK, I don't really know the exact number, but I do know I had some embarrassing growing pains. Think awkwardly tall and skinny.

I had these pink sweatpants that had elastic at the feet. I didn't really care for them, so I decided they would be the perfect thing to wear on a Saturday when no one would see me. I took them to a sleepover, and boy was I surprised (embarrassed) when I put them on the next morning. They were hideously tight and short, but I wore them because it was that or wear the pants I had worn the day before, which was even more disgusting and embarrassing. I still wonder what her family thought of me that day. . . hopefully they've forgotten this incident. I, obviously, have not.

I think it was about that time I told my parents I needed some new pants. I can remember trying on purple jeans, jeans with puzzle pieces on the legs, jeans with Mickey Mouse plastered on the sides. Yikes.

I went to school rockin' those new pants and this boy on the bus said, "You got some pants that fit." Thanks, dude.

I ran cross country for six years. I can remember girls laying on the locker room benches with their tapered-leg jeans while other girls tried to pull those tight ankle-suckers off.

In eighth grade the movie Sister Act 2 came out, and those girls had some straight-leg, maybe even bell-bottomish pants on. I thought they looked pretty good, so I bought me some and wore them to school. A different really awesome guy said, "Hey Jenn, are you missing the 60's?" I explained to him that tapered-legs were out and bell-bottoms in. And what do you know? The next year everyone was wearing flare-leg jeans. The bigger the cooler.

My mom used to always tell me these stories about her elephant pants that she tripped on, and about her mom wearing peg-leg pants and being embarrassed about it, and how then the tapered pants came back in. One big circle because apparently we can't come up with new ideas and the fashion industry needs to keep taking our money.

Probably about 5 years ago I grabbed a bunch of on-sale pants to try on at Old Navy. Skinny jeans. I thought they were supposed to make me look skinny, so you can imagine my surprise when I tried them on and they were tapered-leg pants! NO WAY! I couldn't believe that someone was going to try and pull those back into fashion--they are so not complimentary to a girl's figure (not mine, anyway).

Boy was I wrong. I went to a youth dance not too long ago and guys and girls were wearing skinny jeans (or peg-leg, or tapered-leg, you choose your name).

Anyway. That's my story.

Mama Mia

It has come to my attention that I recently wrote a post that was primarily about my father and not my mother. So this one is for the lady I call when I am happy, sad, excited, bored, in need of advice or recipes, or just any old reason at all.

My favorite story about my mom is also the story she wishes I would forget. It involves her getting mad at me and a recipe box. But I guess since this is her post I won't go there.

Some of the most meaningful memories with my mom are moments that she might not even remember:

A late-night dance party in the kitchen to oldies music on the day I returned from a NYC trip.

Helping me learn how to make bread. Over and over and over. (We finally realized that I was adding too much flour.)

Making jam and canning tomatoes, corn, meat, and applesauce. (They make it look WAY easier than it really is.)

Watching her help and love her mother, who has Alzheimer's and other health issues.

Some events were kind of huge. Like when Ammon was born and I called her in the middle of the night crying, and she flew out the next day to take care of me and my family (I'm pretty sure she won't forget that one).

Some advice she has given has guided me and lifted me up through the years. Like:

• The time after Logan was born and I was adjusting to being a mother and (please tell me I'm not the only one) no longer having the freedom I/we had previously enjoyed. I don't know what I said to her on the phone (surely I was more subtle?), but she said something like, "Sometimes you wonder why you were in such a huge rush have a baby, and you miss the time you had before you were a mom." I felt such a HUGE relief to know I wasn't alone, and I said something like, "Oh! So you feel that way, too?" She laughed and said, "Oh no honey, I've gotten over that. I've been a mom for a long time." Now I know exactly what she was talking about! Somewhere you just start becoming less selfish and more selfless without even realizing that you are changing in such a wonderful way.
• The time I was pregnant with Grant and had two toddlers ages 3 and 2. I couldn't figure out how in the world I was going to take care of another child when I felt like I was struggling to "control" the other two. I don't know if I ever said anything, but her motherly instincts must have kicked in. She sent me a card with a handwritten message. I don't know everything it said, but I remember this part: "I'd like to tell you it gets easier, but really it doesn't. They will get older and less needy, but their independence will be both a blessing and a curse." Not exactly uplifting advice, but exactly what I needed to hear.
• The time that Joe was in TX for the summer and I was playing single mom. There was A LOT of stress--trying to show/sell a house, trying to find work, trying to finish my online classes, and trying to do it all by myself. My parents stopped by to visit for some reason, and asked exactly the wrong (or right) question. I lost it and bawled my head off to them about how overwhelmed I was. They listened and hugged me and told me to drive to their house the next day so that they could help. On their way out the door my dad told my mom to give me gas money so that I wouldn't have any excuse not to go. My mom gave me a $100 bill and told me to "keep the change." I still have that $100 bill and every once in a while I pull it out. . . I don't know if it is to remind me, or for the next time I feel like I just can't do it, or maybe even for some opportunity to help someone else in need. But it has become a symbol of hope and love that helped me to overcome a challenge that felt quite overwhelming.

Mostly my mom was/is really patient with me. She is always calm and never loses her temper, and sometimes I just wanted to make her mad (which is partly why I love my favorite story that I'm not telling). For example, when I turned 18 I told her I was going to buy something just so I could show my i.d. I was really trying to rile her up. She just looked at me and said, "Well, I guess you can spend your money however you'd like." Not what I wanted to hear, and I didn't carry through with that plan. (I did go and get my ears pierced a second time on my 18th birthday, which I knew she was not a fan of but didn't stop me because I was an "adult." And then I took them out the next year when President Hinckley said we didn't need more than one piercing, but that's another story for another day.)

So basically, I'm doomed. When my kids are obnoxious and crazy and in 10 (5? 2?) years trying to make me mad. . . well, we already know that the calm gene didn't get passed down to me. But I had a really good example, and even if I'm not always as patient and nice--hopefully we are making enough good memories that someday my own children will be calling me to laugh and cry, or maybe just to talk.

Disclaimer

My mom just called and asked me if I was making an announcement. My heart stopped beating and I had to hold on to something while I asked, "What?" Many of you have noticed that Joe wrote "Baby Girl McGregor" on the blog header. I don't know why he decided to do that (have you read the stuff on the side bar? That's all him. And I'll remind him to add Ammon), but I didn't take it off because having another girl McGregor would be kind of fun. As in, maybe someday I might dream about it or even think about it, but Ammon is only 6 months old and I'm enjoying the fact that I usually get to sleep through the night (he has been going to bed at about 7:30 and getting up at 5:00 a.m.). But just so y'all know:

I'm NOT pregnant. :)

I went through the last few posts I wrote and noticed that I have things on there about being tired, that I enjoy being pregnant, etc. I'm just tired. I have low iron levels and four kids and I stay up too late at night and get up early to make breakfast for everyone before they leave me for the day. I do enjoy being pregnant, but I also enjoy being skinny and not having to pee every 5 minutes.

On a side note: Ammon can now pull himself to a stand-up position. I guess we'll be moving the crib mattress down tomorrow.

Conference Weekend

I don't know if you remember our last conference weekend, but this one went much, much better. I've been thinking about how I needed some spiritual lift, so I was prepared and ready to listen to our prophet's counsel. While all of the talks were great, the three I really loved and needed were:

Elder Neil L. Anderson's talk about families. ("Motherhood is not a hobby. We do not collect children because they are cuter than stamps," and so many other good, good quotes.)

Elder Ian S. Arden's talk about wise use of time. (Boy do I need to internalize this.)

Elder Robert D. Hales talk about inspiration, patience, and overcoming trials. (Especially when he talked about Job. . . I know our trials might seem small to some, but the last few years have been tough on our family, and this was a great reminder to me that everything we go through will strengthen us, bless us, and make us better).

And I LOVED Elder Uchtdorf's talk last week about the forget-me-nots.

And I also loved the one that Sister Dalton's talk for fathers of daughters.

Like I said, they were all so good and uplifting.

The kids were so good during all EIGHT hours! That is a long time to listen to church talks, but they did! Of course, they colored and cut lots of papers, and even after cleaning up the mess there are still hundreds of tiny paper shavings all over the room, but I'll just vacuum those up tomorrow. And of course we had some occasional loud voices and fighting (like when I asked Logan to start cleaning up the paper and Grant started screaming bloody murder that Logan threw away the paper that was for his speech teacher). We usually have a "party" during the lunch hour of the Sunday session (except for the last General Conference, which is one of my worst memories). Logan has been talking about how he wished we still did that. . . so Joe and I surprised them and had a party consisting of nachos, meatballs (with grape jelly and chili sauce), finger sandwiches, pineapple, chocolate peanut butter cookies, lemonade and apple cider. It truly was a feast! After conference ended we took a walk and enjoyed the wonderful cooler weather (who knew that 88 degree weather could feel like fall?). Then we played a game of LIFE, which I actually hate. I remember loving it as a child and I bought it on a Black Friday several years ago and now that is the kid's favorite game and I'm wishing I never got that good deal. Maybe it will be more fun when the kids are a little older and understand how to play it a little better. Now the kids are in bed, and even Joe walked through the house and commented on the mess (he usually doesn't notice or care), but I didn't say one thing about it, and I am telling myself that someday I will miss the noise and mess that occur over Conference. weekend. Plus, I have the whole week to clean it up. :)

Also, this is just for my memory and documenting (as is the entire post, sorry), but on Friday I made several little posters and taped them up all over the house to remind me to smile more and to be more fun. My "natural man" is naturally pessimistic and serious and not so fun. . . so I started a little experiment to see if I could change my natural disposition--because I want to be a fun and easy-going person! There is an inspiring story in the YW manual about a girl who made made a similar goal. I didn't say anything to Joe about it until today (I thought for sure he would see those green posters and ask me about it, but I guess they were self-explanatory?). Finally I asked him about why he hadn't said anything and he said he was just waiting to see how it played out, which was actually the perfect thing to say. Anyway, it's only been 3 days, but I feel like it is helping. When I want to exhale loudly or complain about something I think of those little signs and just smile and try to think about it more positively. Joe, that sweet guy, is reading a book about random information and statistics, and he informed me that one of those random tidbits explains how you can tell if a smile is fake. . . and then he proceeded to tell me that he knew the secret face muscle that gave the fake smile away, so I wasn't fooling him. :) Oh well, maybe someday I won't need smile cards and it will be a real smile. :)

Chapter 30: Making It

(Ammon's first big-boy bath with Grantee)

(What I found when I downloaded pictures. . . + several shots of door frames, drawer knobs, and carpet.)

How do you define chapters in your life? By years? Moves? Births? Deaths? First days of school? Do you ever take a minute (or hours) to remember memories that happened over the course of your memories? Does it feel like those events happened to another person, or like your life is a movie you watched? I don't quite know how to describe the feeling, I guess I am assuming you know what I mean.

There is a song in the musical Wicked called "Thank Goodness." It shares some pretty insightful lines about happiness, but one of my favorite parts of the song says,

There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed

Anyway, I was just thinking about that. There are definitely some chapters that are more clearly defined than others: graduating from school, the birth of a first child, moving from one state to another, starting a new job, being released from a calling. Then there are those chapters that you look back and realize they have closed without you even knowing it: becoming an adult, watching your kids grow up, letting go of a tragedy or sadness, overcoming a challenge or trial (probably the biggest "bridge" we don't know we've crossed until we can look back and see the bridge behind us).

So today I am defining chapters by years. I can remember hanging on the monkey bars when I was 7, wearing a purple dress and parading around outside with a purple umbrella, going to the store and blowing all of my money on 2 Barbie dolls and then having buyer's remorse for the rest of my life. Ten years ago I was 20. I was newly married and living in China with my sweetheart. Boy was that fun! In less than a month we will celebrate Logan's birthday and he will get baptized! I turned 30! I think we opened and closed a lot of chapters this year. . . baby, moving, birthdays, callings, work, new school, friends, furniture (yay! got it yesterday!), accomplishments. I think we're doing ok--even great! We're making it.*

*This is how I get through life. . . I tell myself: in 10 years this (broken dish, speeding ticket, bombed test, etc) won't mean a thing. We will make it because there is no other choice. And there isn't! Come What May and Love it! (<---click on it)

Lessons on Cleaning

I grew up in a family of seven. We lived in a very old, small house--like over 100 years old house. We had one teeny, tiny bathroom. Both my parents worked outside the home. There was little to no privacy (I sat on the washing machine while I talked on the phone), and our home looked like it had seven people living in it. At the time I couldn't figure out why the house always seemed to be a mess (I was crazy even then, and this might have something to do with why I am crazy now, but that is another topic for another day), but as a SAHM of 4, I now know why! My parents were always trying to figure out how to get us to form good habits; among other things, we had a chore wheel for most of my growing up years. Last night instead of sleeping, I tossed and turned in my bed and thought about how it is probably time to set up our own chore wheel and start giving the kids an allowance. This brought me back to some of my own childhood lessons on cleaning.

Do what needs to be done

"It's not mine." "I didn't make the mess." I said it, and now I hear my kids saying it. My dad taught us the absurdity of these words one family home evening when he showed us the money that he had hidden under books, toys, and objects all over the house that he had probably asked us to pick up. I remember very clearly the $100 bill he had stuffed in a sneaker that had been abandoned by the stairs for over a week. If you notice something needs to be done, you do it--regardless of why it needs to be done. Of course, we spent the next few weeks picking up everything in the hopes of finding money, but it was too late.

Clean behind the toilet

We switched chores each week, and there was a list of jobs that needed to be done for the room we were responsible over during the week. The bathroom was the dirty-dreaded chore, of course. One day near Christmas, my dad asked me if I had cleaned the bathroom. When I said I had, he asked me to go back and check the list. Then he asked me to go clean better behind the toilet. I think I came back 3-4 times to get it checked off before he finally went in the bathroom with me and showed me what I would have found had I really cleaned behind the toilet. . . cute, sparkly Christmas-ornament fishhook earrings. To this day I am a stickler about really getting down on my knees and getting the floor wiped--all the way around the toilet.

Don't wash hair down the drain

I was the one with the long hair, and occasionally the tub or sink drain would get clogged and daddy dearest was the fix-it man. I guess when I became old enough to be held accountable he decided that it shouldn't be his job to clean those nasty drains. So he called me in, pulled up the plug, and made me remove the long, slimy hair (without gloves). If you have ever done this job, you will never wash hair down the drain again. Now I take a square of toilet paper and wipe the hair out of the sink. It's much, much less icky that way.

These memories have stuck with me for years--and I know their lessons spill over into all other areas of my life. I am thankful for goodly parents who took the time to teach me how to work and to be responsible. I just realized that all of these stories are about my dad. My mom is pretty great as well, but she is the first to point out what a good guy my dad is. I'm lucky to have both of them. Yes, I think it's time to make a McGregor chore wheel.