26

I woke up to a smiling toddler and a text message from a friend "singing" happy birthday to me. Its a gorgeous western Montana morning, with sunshine and flowers everywhere, and I'll be spending the day at a remote mountain lake with my kids, my parents, all my brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews and quite a few cousins.

I can't say beyond a shadow of a doubt, but I'm reasonably certain that heaven looks an awful lot like western Montana in late June--a glimpse of the world as it should be.

Its going to be a glorious day.

Love this kid!

Keilana has to give a talk tomorrow in Primary. When we sat down to write it this evening, I asked her what she wanted to talk about. "Jesus Christ," was her reply. "What about Him?" I asked. "How He was nice to everyone."

With very, very little guidance from me (seriously, it was almost all her--I just helped her shape it into a paragraph), this is what she came up with, sentence by sentence, to share with her Primary:

"Jesus Christ was nice to everyone. He said that the most important commandment was to love Heavenly Father and the next most important commandment was to love our neighbor as ourself [not a bad summarization of a scripture just read to her--pretty darned good for a 6-year-old, actually!]. That means we should treat everyone how we want to be treated, so if we meet someone new, we have to be nice to them. Jesus taught the people that no one else would talk to because He loved them. Even if someone speaks a different language, He wants us to love them and teach them because He knows their language and He loves them. Everyone is our brother or sister and Jesus Christ loves them no matter what."

This tells you something about the little girl I got lucky enough to get, and what's important in her life right now.

Of course, earlier in the evening she also squished a bug and then told said creepy crawly, "See you on the flip side!"

So existential, that one.

Pediatrician Visit

So I took Kylie in for a well-baby check up today and discovered that she has an excellent memory for faces (this shouldn't surprise me, given her history). She was happy and talkative on the ride there, as we checked in and while we played in the waiting room. She read some books and played and chatted with her brother and sister. The nurse came out and called her name, and she happily crawled down from her chair and started heading to the door, realizing it was her turn. Then she saw the nurse. It was the same nurse she had last time, the same nurse who gave her five shots.

From that moment on, she was pretty much impossible. When we took her back to the scale and told her to stand on it so she could be weighed, she tried to either sit down or back off of it--while glaring, of course. She didn't want to stand against the wall for her height, standing sideways and fidgeting, and glaring. We went into the examine room and when the nurse dared to try to affectionately touch her, she let out an angry fake cry and glared. Then the doctor came in. Poor Dr. Resa--he loves the littlest people the most and she's never been a big fan (we all know how she feels about people who aren't me or daddy), but today all he got was a series of angry fake cries and glares.

Then the nurse came back in--with a tray full of needles. Kylie pointed frantically to her dress and shoes, clearly ready to go. When I tried to lay her down, she stuck her elbows behind her, fighting to stay upright. Finally I got her pinned (she's a strong little monster) and the nurse quickly gave her two shots in each leg. She continued her angry fake-crying throughout (not terribly loud, nothing shrieky) and jolted her head subtly each time a needle went in. Then the nurse left, we put on her dress and she was perfectly alright. You'd never know the child got any immunizations today. But my goodness is she stubborn!!

She is 31.5 inches tall and weighs 30 pounds, so she is in the 50th percentile and above the 95th, respectively, for her age. Lets hope that those relative proportions don't continue into adolescence.

Run away! Run away!

So I've been as busy as a little bee this week trying to get lots of cleaning and organizing done before we head to Montana. That means, however, that my kids have spent much of the last week penned up in the house.

And that means everybody's whiny. Real whiny. And selfish and mean--they're constantly picking on each other, taking things away from each other, yelling at each other and just being generally naughty.

I must renew my license before we go to Montana. I waited too long to do it by mail, so now I have to go to the DMV. So I'm leaving my kids with the blessed auntie Manda while I run to the DMV office in Tulare.

Never in my life have I been so excited to be heading for the office of a government bureaucracy.

*contented sigh*

Monday night, I left town with very little warning. My husband went with me, but we didn't take our kids. When we left, we weren't entirely certain how long we'd be gone. I had not packed a single thing for any one of my kids, and left rather abruptly without really knowing who would be getting Keilana to and from school, making sure she was ready for her last-week-of-school activities, etc. And yet I left with total and complete confidence that all three of my little loves would be well-cared for, happy and safe until we returned, whenever that might be. With little-to-no notice, my sister-in-law and several different friends stepped up and took care of my little girl and other kids without a second's hesitation and with very little knowledge of where I was or why I was gone. All I heard from them about it was what a delight she was. Not a word was breathed, nor I doubt even thought, of inconvenience or burden. I have never doubted my friends, and it was gratifying to see their love for my family in action.

Last night, I had a wonderful conversation with my dad, where I could hear the smile in his voice for much of the time we spoke. He talked of the power of the scriptures to heal a wounded heart or darkened spirit, and stated so clearly and concisely the importance of having a strong relationship with the Savior, of what that means in our lives (namely, everything). I smiled as he told me had resolved a personal/work crisis that day, then stopped to correct himself and clarified that he didn't do anything, other than be "ambushed by the solution". I spoke with him for more than an hour and delighted in hearing his voice again and being reminded strongly by many of the things that he said to me that I am, indeed, very much my father's daughter. And have never been happier to be so.

Today I went to the temple. I received no profound answers to any particular questions, nor received any significant new enlightenment about any particular topic. I was simply at peace and filled with the Spirit. That's all I needed today. As I looked around the ordinances rooms and then the Celestial Room, I was again struck by the utter simplicity of the place. The layout of the building is very simple--nothing superfluous anywhere. It is extraordinarily clean and neat and beautiful, but nowhere is it ostentatious in any way. There is nothing in the building's design or decor to distract from its purpose. And so, there in the House of the Lord, we have a more complete peace, a truer fulness of joy, than can be found anywhere else on Earth. I believe that when we step into the temple, we do step out of the world in a more literal way than we can possibly understand yet. The simplicity of the building itself, and the simple profundity of the things taught therein, always reminds me that the rest of life is just stuff. Oh, sure, its stuff we have to take care of to keep life running smoothly, but its not what life's about. Its really about individual and families, all trying, and helping one another, to get back to a Heavenly home, to Heavenly parents who know us and treasure us. Its about diligently pursuing, individually and together, our eternal potential and destiny. And its a joyful process.

As I started to prepare my lesson for tomorrow, the week I've just had ran through my head, and I thought to myself, after such a week how can I feel anything but gratitude and joy for all that I have? Is there one richer than I?

Love

I clasp my hands around yours

and offer you the only thing I have to give:

my testimony.

It may not seem like much

and you certainly need much more

but I hope it can help you

take a first step.

Because the truth is

its my greatest blessing--

my most treasured and precious possession.

It breathes life and meaning into all my other blessings.

It keeps my grounded

when I might otherwise be swept away

and balanced

when I might otherwise lose my head.

Hope and joy are eternal and constant.

They never go away,

we simply lose sight of them.

And sometimes

we feel the mist pressing down on us

and we start to let one hand

then the other

slip off the rod,

until before we know it

and not entirely sure how it happened,

we're wandering in strange paths,

groping desperately in the dark,

unable to see the rod

and starting to doubt its even there anymore--

starting to think

that perhaps the memories of ever grasping it are an illusion,

becoming more and more certain

that we can never find our way back,

if there's even a "back"

to find our way to.

And we can't do it on our own.

We've wandered too far away

to reach it ourselves,

too far out of sight to find it on our own.

And so He sends us helpers--

ones who love us,

who may be terribly flawed,

perhaps sometimes impatient

or angry

or nervous,

but whose hand is still grasping firmly to the rod.

They stretch out a hand to take yours

to guide you back,

to promise that the rod,

with all its hope and joy,

is still there,

to hold you up

until you are ready to grasp it again yourself.

So take the hand that is offered to you.

Because men are that they might have joy.

Everybody hurts. . . sometimes

I hurt, everywhere. I seem to have been hit pretty hard by some kind of bug. Every muscle in my body is sore and achy (trust me, every one--I took a cadaver anatomy class in college and have already identified two muscles today that I didn't know I had until they started hurting), I have a head ache, my lungs are oh-so-painful and uncooperative, my throat is so sore that all I've eaten today has been two popsicles and a string cheese, and I slept in clear 'til 8 and then took an hour nap while my kidlets played on the computer and I'm still tired. I am most annoyed. There were a lot of things I wanted to get done today.

Suddenly I find myself wishing for cold weather so that the thought of eating soup for dinner was tolerable. And, most of all, I find myself pining for a big, old clawfoot tub in which to soak.

Last night at 10 o'clock, I felt fine.

*sigh*