Drawing on the Powers of Heaven

This little gem was written by Grant Von Harrison and for a time, was included in missionary literature, which is where my perfect BIL came upon it. I'm quite convinced this book is a big part of the reason this particular BIL is perfect. This book clearly lays a foundation for a deeper and more perfect understanding of faith and sets forth a clear and organized way of moving yourself ahead spiritually, benefitting in every possible way, both spiritually and temporally, as you go.

So, I'm going to open up a discussion here. If you have the book, or can get your hands on it, read along and feel free to participate. It will be a worthwhile endeavor. Even if you don't have it, feel free to add your thoughts.

The first chapter talks about faith. The opening statement is:
"Generally, members of the Church do not have difficulty understanding the most basic aspects of faith, such as faith that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that there is life after death, or with a general faith in the overall plan of salvation. However, many people do have trouble understanding the specific kind of faith required to draw on the powers of heaven to help them be more successful in every facet in their lives." (1)

Basically, we believe in the things we are supposed to, but have a hard time remembering that every action is moved forward by Heavenly Father. When we incorporate this concept into our prayers, and recognize that we have the power to do all things by faith (2 Nephi 1:10), we can gain confidence that Heavenly Father wants to give us all the powers He possesses as long as we put forth the effort and faith to make it possible for Him to bless us.

The book uses the example of someone wanting to lose ten pounds. The faith required to lose ten pounds is different than the faith required to gain special assistance from the Lord. If a person wants to lose ten pounds, they must motivate themselves to action by having faith in the laws that determine weight loss (eat less, move more), resolve to follow those laws, and maintain a constant effort, motivated by faith in the laws that govern weight loss. But many times in our lives, we encounter circumstances that require help from the Lord in addition to resolve and determination on our part. Basically, what I got out of reading this part, is that we should not be afraid to ask for miracles and we should get used to seeing them used to answer our prayers. Which makes sense. Every prayer answered really is a miracle, isn't it? Miracles are the Lords way of letting us know He exists, how much He loves us and how His power is limitless.

The end of the Chapter asks us to explain what is meant by the powers of heaven. I take it to mean that the powers of heaven is the power of God, which can and should be summoned to help us during our mortal lives.

It's Official

My blogging break paid off and I got a 4.0.

Go me, go me, go me.....

*happy dance*

Ahem.

Never cared about doing that before. Well, not since before I had any control over it. It's just mean to give over achieving first graders big, black checkmarks that stand for "Needs Improvement" quarter after quarter even when they TRY to control their talking and stay on task. It goes to show you how very fragile the ego is. Knowing that simple truth would probably have saved my parents a small fortune in private school tuition costs.

See? Learn something every day, don't we!

Doing the Hokey Pokey

I have been stuck in finals mode so, I seriously slacked off in the blog posting.

I do think I managed to pull off a 4.0. The one class I was borderline posted grades yesterday and I must have rocked it out on that last test. Anyhow, here is the video of the year at my house:




We will be including it with her application to Juliiard.

Feeling Joy

Something strange happens to me the moment I become pregnant. I didn't know it would happen with my first child, was in serious denial when it happened with my second child, but there was no doubt I knew what was coming by the time I became pregnant with J.

When I become pregnant, I become unhappy.

I wanted children so badly I could hardly stand to hold our close friends' babies during church. I obsessed over getting pregnant, being pregnant and how I was going to get un-pregnant. I really, really, really, wanted to have kids. What I didn't count on, was the case of the orneries I got each time I got the chance to add to our family.

With B, I was sick. So.so.so.so. sick. I was the only person allowed to use the upstairs bathroom. My softball team kept a large trash can in the dugout, which I visited several times each game. I modified my diet to consume only foods that came up as easily as they went down. Watching my body swell up like a cartoon character did not delight me as it seems to some other members of the female race. The baby moving around was cool for about a month. After that, it just felt like a prolonged case of a wierd stomach virus.

After the baby came, I was thrilled to be a mom, and with barely any chance to breath, I became pregnant with K. I was tired. Overwhelmingly, bone-achingly, w.e.a.r.y. Once she got here, I was sad and emotional. My body wouldn't respond to excersize, I felt dumpy and raving and emotionally crippled. When K turned two, I recognized a shift in my outlook. I became less over-reactive, more patient, and happier with life overall.

When I became pregnant with J, I cried for three days. Along with the discomfort of being pregnant, I also figured out that my life would be seriously tampered with and upset for the next three years. I was right. Along with all the temporal trials we underwent during that time, my own during and after baby slump was added to the mix.

I am happy to report that the slump is coming to a close. I caught myself on SEVERAL occasions this week, slowing down to relish time spent with my children. I stopped working in the yard to watch the girls push each other on the swing. I sat next to B and watched him read and helped him with his homework. I caught myself playing their games with them, watching their shows with them and doing things for them without sighing and feeling pressured to add one more thing to my already full plate. I wish I could take away every harsh word, every impatient remark and every time I raised my voice or brushed them off. I wish I could have those moments back now, when I can fully appreciate the aching lovliness of their skin, the sweet smell of their heads and the charming twinkle in their eyes. I wish I would have written down every cute word, new discovery and recorded every silly dance they ever danced. But I know I can't. I can only move forward and drink in every precious moment from here on out. Unencumbered by my funk, I can try to be the mommy they deserve and be the person they can count on.

I think I'll take extra care with J. She'll probably be the one that picks out my retirement home. (But then again, B has already promised he will build me a house next to his so I can live there and make him spaghetti. K is going to live there with me. She's getting married when she's 35 and needs a place to stay until then. Good to have a plan, isn't it?)

Creative Use of New Skillz

M, the oldest, watched the youngest three children while I worked at the office for a few hours today. I left homework open and ready with instructions that the children finish their work before they were allowed to play or watch TV. K wrote the preceeding note and stuck it to the door. Calling to M, she said, "I found a note! It says: M, do not make the kids do the homework." To M's credit, he said, "Oh! OK, well, let me take a look."


"Um, no, that's OK, Mom taught me how to read, I can tell it to you!"

Gotta give the girl credit for trying!

Love is...

Someone who cheerfully helps clean up puke at 2 am.




Someone who let's his little girl paint his nails, and wears pink nail polish for three days because he thought it was clear.




Someone who takes the kids fishing.



Someone who plays when he'd rather be napping.



Someone who teaches his kids, supports their dreams and does everything he can for them.

Someone who takes the time to celebrate his wife's birthday and Valentine's Day, even though they fall on the same day.

Someone who takes his wife on a date at least twice a month, no matter what.

Someone who does dishes, and folds laundry...and never complains about it.

We certainly are lucky to have you, dear.

Kill.me.now.

Me: I want to build the receptionist desk.
Him: Sounds good.

A week passes, we now need the desk.

Him: Dad wants to go look for a reception desk.
Me: I thought I was building it.
Him: Me too. But he says it would be easier.
Me: Easier and a whole lot more expensive.
Him: You never know.
Under my breath: *yes I do. I always know.*

Next day:

Him: I called a place and we can rent a desk.
Me: Sounds expensive.
Him: No, they'll practically give it to us and fly us to Tahiti as an added incentive.
OK, no he didn't really say that last part.
Him: They are having a huge sale this weekend, we're going.
Me: I want to build the desk.
Him: Dad will be here at 8 am.
Me: Great, he can take us to Home Depot.
Him: Scowl.

8 am:
Him: Ah, yes, here it is.
Me: Great. And only two hours of driving to find it.
Him: The sale is around back in the warehouse.
Me: Why is that big black man shouting at that little round guy? And why are all those people standing around them?
Him: (on the phone with his dad) You might want to slip your pistol in your pocket before you come in....
Me: Um. I don't see any office furniture.
Him: I'll ask the manager.
Me: I'll just stand over here and try to stay out of the line of fire.
Him: More scowling

10 am:
Him: Well, they don't have a receptionist desk.
Me: Great. I want to build it.
Him: We'll go buy the other stuff we need.

Noon:
After having gone to three more stores, FIL says to buy the desk at store number 2, Hubster says $400 for particle board is a no-go, he decides to buy a cheapo one from the store he went to earlier in the week. Cost: $189.00 plus tax.
Me: I hate that desk. I want to build a desk. I can build what I want for less.
Him: I need it by Monday. Less work this way. You can built what you want later.
Me: Less work for WHOM?
Him: More scowling

1 pm:
Salesclerk: I'm sorry sir, I'd have to order that, I sold the last one yesterday.
Me: Great. I want to build the desk.
Him: OK, we'll go to Home Depot. But I want to make it out of paneling.
Me: Paneling is going to be more expensive.
Him: Well, we'll just go see.

2 pm:
In Home Depot, mind you, I built the last desk. I designed the space for this desk, I've been thinking about what I need for 2 weeks now. The plan is to build an "L" shaped wall that has a 6' section and a 4' section, is 4' tall, with a 6' counter top as a work space, and a 6" wide ledge around the top to be used as a writing surface. Short file cabinets fit underneath. People can't lean over, the side wall prevents prying eyes from peering in from the waiting room. Simple. Brilliant. Cheap.

Him: We could put that over the front, that would be fast.
Me: That's hardwood flooring. I guess it could work, but you'd still have to attach it to something.
Him: OK, well, how about this paneling?
Me: I want drywall. It will cost half.
Him: Well, how about the counter top? We need a four foot counter top.
Me: No, we need a six foot counter top.
Him: What about the four foot section of the wall?
Me: No counter top there.
Him: Why?
Me: It would take up too much space.
Him: Well, what about the writing surface part? I want to go look at the shelving to see if there is something laminated so the writing surface is smooth. Plus, it will be fast.
Me: We can look. We used oak last time. Holy cow. That stuff is expensive. We'll go with oak.
Him: Well we only need four feet.
Me: No, we need a little over 10 feet.
Him: Only for the short section, not for the short wall!
Me: What short wall?
Him: Where the counter goes.
Me: That's not going to be short.
Him: Why not? It would be faster.
Me: Because it's not.
Him: Well we don't have to put it on the whole thing.
Me: How else are you going to finish it?
Him: Blank stare.

Much stepping off and speaking with the hands ensues. Animated explanation was presented by both sides. An understanding of the vision is reached.

Me: OK, so we need four sheets of dry wall, three for sure, but four to be safe.
Him: We only need two.
Me: NO, WE NEED THREEEEEE AT LEAST....*spoken v-e-r-y slowly*
Me: There's TWO sides to the wall....
Him: But you only need to finish one side, it will be faster.
Me: And you are going to have 2X4's on the desk side? BUY FOUR.
Him: OK, how much oak.
Me: Two peices
Him: I thought we only needed four feet.
Me: I'm going to kill you now.


5:30 pm:
Delivery of needed supplies to office. Included:
4 sheets of drywall
2 pieces of oak
8 2X4's
1 2X2
1 six foot counter top
1 bucket of joint compound
2 peices of bowl nose
Framing screws and Drywall screws.
Total cost: $182.00 with tax, and I bought a new tape measure to boot.

Basically, if left alone, I would have built the desk, painted the desk, and moved my crap into the desk in the time it took to help two grown men decide to listen to me.

I didn't yell once. And they call US the weaker sex.

Just Singing Our Little Song!

Photo Sharing

If nothing else...

I certainly do enjoy job security.





And yes, Mother, it *WAS* clean last night thankyouverymuch.

Happy Halloween!

(Man that was almost too easy! LOL)

Golly!

Don't mean to break my arm patting myself on the back, but I've been fretting over my thesis statement for my long research paper assignment for two weeks now. I finally posted my thesis:

While it has become apparent through comparison of academic test scores that home school students generally out perform their public school counterparts, until recently, very little research has been available to compare the social outcomes of public school student to those of home schooled students. An analysis of the small but growing body of evidence supporting the positive social development of home schooled students reveals that while many of the initial studies have been performed and interpreted by Christian fundamentalists, newer studies, including at least two performed by less biased professional educators, all support initial claims that most home school students are at least as socially adept as public school students, and often, they are more socially advanced, exhibit fewer aggressive behaviors and exercise better self control than children educated in the public school system.

and this was my instructor's response:

Wow. That's really good. You have added new information to discussion that is highly debated that seems reasonable and interesting. I like how you recognize the previous possible biases and present confirmation based on less biased studies. I am drawn into your paper on those tantalizing bits of information. I am very curious to see the numbers and interpretations of the studies to back this thesis up.

I'm glowing. Hee, hee!

Excitement and Freecycle

Two posts in one! LOL

The kids are excited because we got this:



And I got him from Freecycle. If you don't know about freecycle, you should check it out at www.freecycle.org. It's amazing what people give away. Sometimes you get things you didn't even know you needed! LOL The lady with the rabbit needed to find him a home and gave us everything, the cage, feeders, waterers, food, bedding and leash. I've also picked up a shampoo bowl and sink for my SIL. It's a great way to get rid of some of the "stuff" that's cluttering up your life. You never know, someone might get some use out of your old things, so before I trash, I freecycle.

I apologize for my blogging slack-iness. After a whole lot of personal drama and financial upheaval over the past three years, my husband is going back into business for himself and we have been hard at work getting that adventure underway. You know. In my spare time. Between classes and homeschooling and baseballing. I won't even go into how the housework is suffering. But somehow, I'm keeping my head a little bit above water and each new day filled with things to do is a blessing.

DEUTERONOMY

Chapter 5:7-21.

7 Thou shalt have none other gods before me.
8 Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the waters beneath the earth:
9 Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me,
10 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my commandments.
11 Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
12 Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee.
13 Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work:
14 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou.
15 And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.
16 Honour thy father and thy mother, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
17 Thou shalt not kill.
18 Neither shalt thou commit adultery.
19 Neither shalt thou steal.
20 Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour.
21 Neither shalt thou desire thy neighbour’s wife, neither shalt thou covet thy neighbour’s house, his field, or his manservant, or his maidservant, his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is thy neighbour’s.

Just as we command our children thou shalt not drive fast and wear no seat belt, and thou shalt not eat ten cookies lest ye ruin thy dinner; He gave us these rules not to spoil our fun and rain on our parade, but for our own benefit and safety, and He meant every word, it isn't up to us to pick and choose which ones we want to obey.

I'm thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us rules to live by, and guidelines for raising our children. Happy Sunday!

Let's c.......

C is for costume. Duh. Could it *be* about anything else? I thought not.

Christmas is all about the kids, but Halloween, we all know who the costumes are *really* for. This is probably the last year I'll get away with choosing K's costume for her and making her think it was her idea entirely, but I've got another 2-3 years with J. Once again, I failed to talk B into the Captain Hook costume. He'll probably end up with a Power Ranger's costume and I'll hate it as much as the $25 Batman costume he insisted on last year. *sigh* My little boy has his own opinion. Rats.

For those of you with little guys, Disney Store makes a FABULOUS Captain Hook costume with a gorgeous red velvet coat, and they are all on sale for 50% off right now. What.a.deal. $20 buys you a Disney store costume with awesome details and better quality fabrics, you'll spend just as much at Walmart and probably won't be nearly as satisfied. The trick is getting out of the store without buying the matching shoes, wand, tiara, tights, gloves and hairpiece. I always swear I'm going to resell the costumes on E-bay, since you can get as much or more than what you paid at the store, but they love them so much we've never been able to give up a single one before it was worn to shreds. So with no further rambling about my love of dressing up my children, prepare yourself for the cuteness:





Maybe I can talk B into being a ghost...or a mummy....a pirate? ANYTHING but a Power Ranger, PLEASE!!!!

B is for....

Brine. With Thanksgiving coming up in a bit, you should know about brining your bird. If you've never tried it, you owe it to yourself to give it a try. Here's the recipe I used last year and several times since. It never fails to produce a wonderfully juicy and flavorful bird.

Honey Brined Turkey I also added a few sprigs of fresh rosemary.

Encyclopedia Project

I'm having a blogging block. I tell myself that it's because I'm busy, and why wouldn't I be with all that's going on, but really, I can't think of much to write, and what I do doesn't come out as I'd hoped. All I've managed to do is build up my draft pile these past two weeks. So I was reading a post over at Ittybitty Frog Idea's and, I decided to try doing some blogs like this. I'll start at A and write down what comes to mind. Might be fun. Might be boring like she thought the book was. Either way, it's something.

So for A, the word that comes to my mind is Albatross. Yeah, that's a little random, I know. Bear with me. According to dictionary.com:

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
al‧ba‧tross  /ˈælbəˌtrɔs, -ˌtrɒs/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[al-buh-traws, -tros] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. any of several large, web-footed sea birds of the family Diomedeidae that have the ability to remain aloft for long periods. Compare wandering albatross.
2. a seemingly inescapable moral or emotional burden, as of guilt or responsibility.
3. something burdensome that impedes action or progress.
4. Textiles.
a. a lightweight worsted fabric with a crepe or pebble finish.
b. a plain-weave cotton fabric with a soft nap surface.

I don't know much about birds, in fact, they kind of freak me out and I don't really like to be too close to them, unless they are chickens, then I don't mind as much. But the part about burden and impeded action, we might have something there.

What is it about being a mom that makes us guilt pros? We carry it around like an old coat. We heap it on the heads of our families. What a great tool Satan has in guilt. Sometimes, it can motivate us to action, but lets face it, usually, we just carry it around and let it drag us down to the murky depths. It allows us to dwell on what we haven't done, or haven't done well enough, or what we should have done, or what we could have done better. Often, it makes us dwell on things we shouldn't have done. What mother hasn't had at least a handful of days when she laid her head down at night and thought to herself, "all I did was yell and nag at my kids all.day.long." I think it is interesting that "impedes action or progress" comes right after the guilt and responsibility part. Does it always have to do that? Or can we find ways to use those feelings and turn it into something positive. Our lesson in Young Women today was about self esteem and feeling good about yourself. One of the classic exercises for this lesson is to list what you don't like about yourself and cross off what you can't change. We should do that with feelings of guilt. Fix what we can, and then quit beating ourselves up over it. I think I'll give that a try this week. What about you?

Just Like The Fair!

While I try to decide which of my kids to sell so I can pay the $9-$13 dollar per head entry fee to the State Fair, I thought I'd pass along this recipe for Kettle Corn. Just as good as at the Fair and much, much, much cheaper!

1/4 cup oil (I use Olive)
2/3 cup popcorn

Heat in pot with lid, when first kernel pops, open lid and sprinkle in 1/4 cup sugar.
Shake as it pops to avoid scorching the bottom, turn into bowl and salt. It really is that easy!

Operation: Ki Ki goes in the wash.

Kids are outside playing, distracted, 9:30 am
Ki Ki enters washing machine 9:35 am
Kids come inside, 10:20 am
J demands Bonnie and Ki Ki 10:21 am
I break the news, 10:21:30 am
Text conversation between Hubster and myself at 10:22 am
Me: Stage four meltdown in progress. Blanket is in the wash. Shoot me now.
Him: Distract her.
Me: Yeah. That'll work.
Him: It always works.
Me: I'll tell her that.

I try the substitute bankie's, an effort which is met with louder screaming, and thrashing as if every blanket we own is made of molton lava, so great is the torture of having such a thing touch.on.her.skin.

Him: Give her barney vid
Me: That's what started the whole thing. I'll have her call you. That'll distract her.
Him: Tell her to knock it off or we eat Barney like we did the rooster that chased her!

Gee. Now why didn't *I* think of that?

I'm still laughing.

She's still screaming.

Ki Ki is still spinning.

B and K are stationed by the dryer door, stuffing styrofoam peanuts in their ears.

Hair Did

I sure 'nuff did.







The sides should have been a touch longer, but I'm so loving the new look!

Two

Well, sweet J, you turned two about a week and a half ago. It seems like you were born about a minute and a half ago, but time flies when you're watching your heart walk around outside of your body, right? You are the pride and joy of your entire family. You are rotten and spoiled and you are all ours, we couldn't be happier. You are the typical baby of the family, slow to talk, quick to scream, and the object of everyone's complete and utter adoration. Since you've been slower to talk than your siblings were, you are a master of body language. There is no mistaking your desires, especially when you waggle your little finger and tell us, "'Mere! 'Mere!", pointing and acting your way through every day is what we've come to count on. You surprise us every day with a new word you can clearly articulate, but we will forever be on the lookout for your happy little dance that shows us the delight in your heart. You spend a good portion of every day trying to talk us out of just one more "bi-C" (vitamin C) and each time we give in, you very somberly mimic us telling you, "only one more, or you'll have a sore bum", you even point your little finger and roll your eyes.



You were so eager to ditch your diapers that you potty trained your little self to the point we could take you out in public with just your big girl panties. Then, for whatever reason, you decided big girl panties weren't all that and a bag of chips, and it's been diapers ever since. You are the most confounding bundle of opposition the world has ever known. You are ornery and sweet, mean and caring, shy and outgoing, scream in the car but you love to go places, the only thing we can count on is that you will do the opposite of what we expect...or not.



You surprise and delight your nursery teachers with your ability to hold a pencil correctly and string beads onto a pipe cleaner, too bad they can't see you run the Casio piano. You know which buttons to push to make it play all your favorite songs and you spend hours each day singing and dancing along with it. Your father and I often joke that you will be in third grade by the time you are six since you refuse to be left out of the homeschool day. We give you your "paypee" and "peepee" each day and you sit at the table with B and K and work just like they do. Just last night, you amazed us all with your ability to bean your sister, then your brother, in the head with a roll around ball at 15 paces. In fact, you can pretty much hit anything you throw at. Your dad couldn't be prouder. Your siblings have taken to wearing their batting helmets indoors.



You tell us "pfunny" (funny), "shash" (trash), "pitty" (pretty), "ticka" (tickle), "'ep meeee" (help me), "step-step", "uppy" (cup, up, puppy), "pee pee" (paper, pencil, get me to a bathroom, and look what I have), you love your "di-dow" (pillow) and your "ki-ki" (blankie), and you have recently developed a love affair with "Bonnie", the big purple dinosaur. You also love Blue's Clue's and have a special sound you use for that, it sounds nothing like Blue or Clue. You also roar. We aren't sure why you do it, but you think it is hysterical. Perhaps the funniest thing you do lately is bring daddy your cat book, and then make daddy chase you with it. You giggle and flirt and dramatize the kitty getting you like it were a real, live cat chasing after you.



You hate clothes and spend a good part of each day as n@ked as a jay-bird. It really is something to see a n@ked girl flop herself onto her brothers skate board and scoot herself across the kitchen like super man. You've also perfected the art of n@ked-couch-flopping. This involves removing all the pillows from the couch, yelling "fi-fi" (excuse me) at the top of your lungs until any bodies that dared sit upon said couch move to another location, and then climbing onto the arm, standing up, and belly flopping onto the seat. You get extra points if you roll off the seat and onto the pillows that litter the floor from step one.



You've decided your sister is a good royal subject, and have decided she should be allowed to share your air. This was a wise decision on your part, your bubba loves you, but he's not nearly as cute in a princess dress. They both wait on you hand and foot, and I have to say, you owe them big-time. You are a fickle playmate and they are very patient with your impatience.



You are the best entertainment we've ever had. Watching you do crunches with me is enough to send us all into fits of laughter. When you get into trouble, you run to your room, scream for 5 minutes or so, and return as though nothing at all ever happened. We let our phones ring extra long just so we can watch you dance. You sing yourself to sleep each night and fill our world with a cuteness that is so blinding that we forgive you all your tantrums.



You are the best surprise we ever got. Happy Birthday little J.