A Story

So the other day I was getting Avery and Harley in the tub together. Avery got in first and I told her to start getting her hair wet so we could wash it.

Being the 9 year-old girl that she is, I figured she freak if Harley peed in the tub like he ALWAYS does the second the little thing touches the warm water. I don't usually worry too much when he pees in his own bath because his pee is still baby pee. Not something you'd want on you but certainly not something to wig out over. But she's NINE. And a GIRL. So I had to do everything I could to make sure tub-peeage (thanks for the work, DeNae!)did not occur.

I had him stand next to the tub while the water ran to encourage him to go in his diaper. Then I took his diaper off and aired the little bugger out in the hopes that the air and the water would inspire him to go outside the tub.

Next, I put him on the potty to try to get him to pee before I put him in. (It should be noted that he has never peed on the potty. Never, ever. But I thought I'd get extra credit from Avery if it looked like I at least tried to make sure he didn't pee in her bath.) After about two minutes of sitting, he said he was done.

After about 3 or 4 minutes I decide that I've done all I could do to prevent him from peeing anywhere near her bathwater. I get him off the pot, turn around to set him in and see my NINE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER sitting in a yellow pool.

"What the hell???" Say I. "Did you pee in the tub?"

Avery literally started to shake her head "no" but quickly realize she was SURROUNDED by evidence and nodded, sheepishly.

Very Under Control Mom: "WHY HAVE YOU PEED IN THE TUB???????"

Mortified Child: Quietly, "I don't know."

VUCM: "YOU'RE NINE YEARS OLD!!! YOU'RE TOO OLD TO BE PEEING IN THE TUB!!!"

VUCM: "Do you always pee in your bath?"

MC: Shakes head, no.

VUCM: "Tell me the truth."

MC: "Sometimes"

VUCM: "Munchkin, you can not pee in the tub! Maybe, under the most dyer of circumstances, when you absolutely can not hold it, you can pee in the shower. But, really, not even then. And NEVER in the bath!!!!!"

So we drained the water, cleaned the tub and the toys, and got them both back in. And they bathed happily ever after.

Cry Me A River. Of Sweat.

So I keep hearing how HOT it is in places like, Las Vegas, for instance. I even heard of a news report in Arizona telling people not to go outside barefoot for even a minute. Not to get the mail or take out the trash or anything because people were getting 2nd degree burns on their feet.

And did you hear last week that in China the cars were melting to the pavement? Yep. It was a new road and the temperature outside was 110 and the temp on the pavement was 140 and the cars were literally getting "stuck in traffic".

And while I don't doubt you're having yourselves a warm snap, I'd just like all you whiners to see how hot it is in Pleasant Grove.

This is the sign in front of Walgreens just down the street from my house. Taken on Sunday.

So next time your temps outside reach 116 degrees, try thinking of those of us who are REALLY suffering!

You Are Not A Bun

Dear Harley,

If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times: Get. Out. Of. The. Oven.

I realize there are times when you need to reach your cookie.

And cook.

Or just stand there and suck your thumb.

But you've got to find a better place to do these things.

I mean it. Don't even think about it.

One of these days, I'll surprise your daddy and it's actually going to be hot in there!

Love, Mama

One From The Archives

This is from my archives. One year ago today I was rebaptized. Today has been an emotional day for me. I've missed my dad a lot, since this was his greatest desire for me. To see me back in good standing with the church before he died.

Just minutes after I clicked "publish post", I received the call that my father had passed away. I miss him so much...

I have been so blessed to have been born and raised in the Gospel. What a gift it was to have been sent to parents whose testimonies had already been set in stone. Their faith has always been unfaltering. I went to Primary every Sunday. I was baptized when I was 8. I went to Young Women's every week and I LOVED it. As I look at the youth of today (and even some of my sisters) I realize that the experience I had in the Youth program was quite rare. I lived for activities night. I counted the minutes til girls camp. And cried for a week after it was over. I loved my leaders. I loved my bishoprics. All (and I do mean ALL) of my friends were in my ward and I really, truly liked going to church. I wasn't a rebellious teenager. How could I be? I was diagnosed with cancer a month before I turned 17 and started my first treatment the day after my birthday. I had to be home-schooled for 3 months. I missed out on the dance team that I'd worked so hard to make and I was sick during the try-outs for my senior year. I only saw my friends at church and even then it was different. They didn't know how to act around me. So my parents became my best friends. It was their friendship that got me through that time of my life. And it was during that time that I gained my own set-in-stone testimony. I had a closer relationship with my Father in Heaven during that time than I've ever had. Up to and including now.

Two years after I was declared to be in remission, I relapsed. I was a year out of high school and had a steady boyfriend. We'd moved from my home "town" (more of a city than a town) to a new, literal, town. The odds were very much against my survival this time. This time I was FILLED with cancer. This time I was so incredibly sick. But this time I had my own testimony to draw upon. Don't get me wrong. My parents' faith was still going to get me through but now we were all armed with it. And after an amazing blessing from my former bishop (and another former bishop who died of cancer a year later), I started the 7 months of chemotherapy knowing I'd beat this cancer again.

And I did.

I finished my treatments three years to the day after I was diagnosed the very first time. I was now almost twenty. I'd had cancer twice. (It was Hodgkin's Disease, by the way. I don't think I said that yet.) Looking back, it's almost as if I opened my eyes on the day I was no longer a teenager and really began my life. My boyfriend and I had broken up the day before my birthday. I was cancer free. I was living in a new place. My dad was about to be my bishop. My mom and I were best friends. It was a great time in my life.

I met and married my first husband. We were married in the temple. We had two kids. We were best friends. Life really was good.

So why am I telling you all of this? I want to show just how BLESSED I have been. How much I've been given in my life. I don't think that what happened next can be understood unless you understand all I'd been blessed with. Because seven years after I got married (eight years after I "opened my eyes") I chose to give it all up. I chose to say, "thank you, Heavenly Father, for all You've done for me. For my good health, my beautiful babies, my really nice husband. But I'm going to take a pass for now."

My husband and I split up. I went on a path for the next several months that was in the complete opposite direction as the path I'd been on my whole life. I went from one end of the "spiritual spectrum" to the exact other end.

My actions led me to a disciplinary court. Where it was explained to me that if I were to change my ways, right then; recommit myself to the Lord then I would be able to keep my membership. I know the church doesn't like to excommunicate people. I know the Lord works in ways of love, not punishment. But I made the decision to throw it all away.

I was surprised at how much it really did affect me. At that point in my life I really thought I didn't need the Lord. I didn't need the church. I was "happy". But as I walked home from the church I cried and cried.

I had already felt the absence of the Holy Ghost. I wasn't as patient with my kids as I had once been. I was glad to have them be with their dad because I knew he was a much better parent for them than I was. Things weren't going well at my job. I was angry and hostile to my ex-husband when, really, he hadn't done anything wrong. But having it be official. Having the bishop tell me I was excommunicated just rocked me.

I went on with my life. I continued down that path for a time. But that eventually got old. I was ready to settle down again. I'd already changed my ways with my kids. I was back to being the kind of mom they needed. I had a new and much better job. I still was completely inactive but in my heart I still believed.

I met Tavis and married him 9 months later. He's the love of my life. We got married in May, 2006 and that following Thanksgiving, my dad had a heart attack. He didn't die but it shook me. A month or so after his heart attack he came to me and showed me a piece of paper. It was a list of all of his kids with our birthdates, date of sealing for my oldest sister, and our baptism dates. But next to my name it was blank. Blank. I was a blank line! He told me he wanted, more than anything, for that line to be filled in before he died.

Well, absolutely. Who knew how much time he had left? The chances of another heart attack after a first are really good. So I decided it was time. After several meetings with my bishop we got it figured out that I could be re-baptized. And the only thing it was really going to require of me was that I, y'know, go to church. Everything else in my life was back within the Gospel standards. We decided it would be the same day my 8 year old daughter was baptized. But an hour before hers as not to take anything away from her special day.

Boy did the adversary work on me! Tavis and I fought more than we ever had. I didn't want to go to church. It was so easy to find reasons not to go. But I knew why I was having those feelings. And I did my best to ignore them.

At my disciplinary council the bishopric took a long time to deliberate. Longer than I thought should be necessary, frankly. I knew I was ready. Why were they having such a hard time figuring it out?

My bishop came out of his office and told me he'd forgotten to give me the baptismal interview. (I'm not kidding.) After the interview he was quiet. He finally said, "do you think we're rushing this?"

My heart sank. I couldn't believe he was saying this. I had enough faith, though, to know that if he wasn't getting the confirmation he needed from the Lord then I'd just have to wait.

But I this is what I told him:"The only thing we're rushing is the paper-work. (Because of my wanting to do it the same day as my daughter.) During the last five years my life has gone down every possible road. But my faith, my testimony, has never faltered. I've never stopped believing in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Not one time. I most certainly stopped living it, but I never stopped loving it. My faith is not being rushed. My readiness is not being rushed. All that's being rushed is getting it down on paper."

So he went back in with his counselors and they deliberated again. He called me back in and delivered the most poignant speech I'd ever been given. He said, "Thank you for giving the Spirit time to work. I went from being unsure about your readiness to knowing without question that this is the time for you to be re-baptized. I'm not sure why it's now, but I received revelation that the Lord needs you back now. That NOW is the time for you. I know that in time it will be revealed to us just how important the timing of this is, but for now I just know that it's not by accident that you've chosen now to come back."

Wow. I was speechless.

Which was OK because one of the counselors had this to add, "First, I want to thank you for your courage. It can't have been easy to come and meet with four men you barely know (this was the first time I'd even laid eyes on this man), and put your faith in us. So, thank you. Next, I want to tell you that I've got a general testimony that God loves everyone. But tonight I received a testimony that God loves you. And I'm so thankful to have been in on this council so that I could gain that testimony."

So I was baptized the following Saturday. My dad baptized me when I was 8 and he baptized and confirmed me again. People kept asking if I was so excited??? And the correct answer, of course, was YES!!! But really? No. Because I didn't feel like anything was going to change. All it was was a piece of paper. But as was pointed out to me by a friend, the commitment would be stronger. And she was right. I was wrong to have down-played it so much. I didn't want a big thing. Your first baptism is something to celebrate, not your second. But when the day came, I was truly EXCITED!!! (And not just because my sisters had come from out of town to be there!) I came out of the water feeling a lot like I did on my 20th birthday. My life was really going to begin. Again.

I've got a beautiful baby boy, now. And what I want next is to be sealed to him. But for now, I'll bask in the peace that having the Holy Ghost back in my life has given me. I'll never take that peace for granted again. I'll never let my Heavenly Father down again. My faith is renewed. My commitment is stronger than ever. And my life is right where I want it to be!