Double Whammy

Two days after Thanksgiving, my grandpa died. Last night my grandmother joined him. I'm too stunned right now to be grateful for what I know is true: that she has rejoined her husband and that she is beyond the grasp of the dementia. I'm sure if I could see them together now I would stunned at their glory.

In a way, that is such sad news for Christmas Eve. On the other hand, it makes so real my gratitude for my Savior, for His Atonement and Resurrection. Thank you Jesus for all the gifts you constantly give me. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday.

Twilight Before Christmas

Okay, my last Twilight post was serious, so I'll try to make it up to you by leading you to a great spoof! I already forwarded this link to some of you, and you enjoyed it so much I had to share it with everyone else.

Twilight Before Christmas

Anyone else have a good spoof link to share?

Pride Goes Before the Fall at the Y

No, I'm not actually referring to the poor Bowl performance after the BYU Cougars' otherwise great football season. This post is actually about me at the YMCA.

I tried out a stability ball class this morning. When the first 2 people I saw were 70-year old men, I rolled my eyes and thought, "This will be a waste of an hour!" The teacher and the other class members came in and I was the youngest by at least 15 years. As we began, the teacher said to me, "I know it's your first time so just do the best you can." "Right," I thought, in a sarcastic tone of voice. "Bring it on!" But 15 minutes later those 70-year olds were kicking my heiny! At one point I was literally clutching my hamstring and mentally screaming, "Cramp! Cramp!" At this moment my legs are still feeling quivery and my abs are still tight (but from the class or snitching Christmas cookies, I don't know). At least I didn't literally fall off the ball (although another lady in the class did), but there were some very narrow escapes. Good class!

**Here's something else funny that happened today but has nothing to do with my title. I walked outside this morning and thought, "Wow! It is really not that cold today! The wind's not blowing at all! Well, my chin is getting a little cold..." I passed one of those time & temp marquees: current temperature -1 F. But it sure beat the socks off of yesterday's -30 F windchill!! Practically tropical!

Why We're All in Love With Edward

An interesting article that says it better than I can.

What Girls Want: An Edward

The Barbies and the Bees

First, let's start with the Barbies. My Couscous wants one for Christmas. Not unusual for little girls. But I am not the usual mama. I have an anti-Barbie mentality. The kids have worn me down a little. They do have Barbie scooters (better than the Bratz alternative), a Barbie Magnadoodle, watch Barbie movies and sing Barbie songs. I like the personality characteristics Barbie shows in her movies. But I can't get past the Barbie DOLL. It's the whole triple D bust, 14" waist, Amazon length legs. I just hate having that be the model my little girl has for what a beautiful woman looks like. It's so unrealistic! And so non-age-appropriate. I try to guide my Avandra to read books that are about kids her age. I'd like Couscous to play with dolls that look like kids her age. And maybe I was just a naughty little girl, but I remember "acting out" some TV love scenes with Barbie and Ken. We have a big enough problem these days with girls and women thinking their bodies have to look a certain (sexualized) way. I get so sick of the ads about plastic surgery to "tighten" this or "augment" that. I hate that I see padded bras in the girls' section in the department stores. I love the focus on what our bodies can DO, rather than what they look like. When Couscous complained about her hair today (which most people agree is absolutely gorgeous), I asked her Who gave it to her. Why are we so ungrateful about how God has created us? When I give someone a gift, it disappoints me if they don't like it. I'm sure God feels the same way when we are dissatisfied with the gift of our bodies and we feel we can "improve" upon how he made us. I remember a discussion in high school seminary class about resurrection and how we would be resurrected into a perfect state. I remember hoping against hope that my perfect resurrection would include long legs! I think I understand now that our definition of beauty is mostly drawn by our culture. There will be no long legs for me, because long legs won't matter. Nor will we care about big busts or skinny thighs. The resurrection will make us perfect in what our bodies can DO, because we are already beautiful in how we LOOK. We just have to reject the false beauty template society has shoved down our throats.

Now for the Bees. I need to give a little background on this. My dear Mom was one of those who sat my 12-year old self down for "THE TALK". I was horribly embarrassed, covered my ears, closed my eyes, and ran from the room. I think she ended up just handing me a book later. I promised myself that I would never do that to my children. So the way I deal with it is that I always answer my children's questions honestly and clearly. When my kids ask about body parts, I tell them their true names. When my toddler got into the feminine hygiene products and my girls asked what they were for, I told them. I don't tell them more than they ask for, but I always answer their questions. Having family members in the healthcare field has also brought some interesting body books into our home, and since Avandra loves to read and loves science, she probably knows more than most children her age. I should add, she knows more facts and fewer societal interpretations. To my knowledge she has never seen any sex scenes on TV or in movies, but she knows that an egg comes from a mom and sperm comes from a dad and that you need both to make a baby. That was as far as she got, but I knew my days were numbered until she came to the next step. Last night was her night:

We were sitting in the dark as I tucked her in and she said, "I love you Mom more than anyone in the world. Well, you and Dad tie."

"That makes sense. (I totally walked into it here:) You wouldn't be here without both of us."

"I know an egg comes from a Mom and that sperm comes from Dad. But how do they get together to make a baby?"

Gulp. Silence. Gratitude for Darkness.

"Well, the Mom and the Dad have to get close enough together for the egg and sperm to touch."

"Do they come up through the mouth when they kiss on the lips?"

(Do you know how much I wanted to say, "YES!" and change the subject? This was a huge test to my decision to always be honest.)

Long Pause. Silence. Prayer in Heart.

"Actually, no. They come from our private parts. That's actually why we don't let other people touch them and why we don't touch them ourselves."

"Why can't we touch our own private parts?"

"God created those parts so we can create other people. He is the Great Creator but He shares with us some of His power. It's a very sacred power so that's how we show respect for that power."

"That means I also need to show you more respect Mom, since you created me."

Whew! She changed the subject herself. But wasn't that a sweet conclusion she came to?

(I'm sure Freud would have a heyday with this post.)

Loving

I never seem to have one-second epiphanies. It seems to take me weeks of various experiences that all come together into an "Aha!" moment:

1. This Thanksgiving was the best I can remember! My sister's family is here, my mom flew in from out of state, and my brother and his family drove into town. WE HAD SO MUCH FUN!! Friday night we got together after all the kids were asleep and we laughed so hard that our abs hurt the next day. We laughed so hard that some of us were literally on the floor. We laughed so hard that those of us with poor post-partum bladder control ratings had very close calls. (And to think this was a completely natural high!) With whom else can you be so uninhibited and share so much to laugh at? I am converted. Family is one of God's greatest gifts. Especially when you compare Friday evening with Saturday. Saturday evening is when we found out that our Grandpa had passed on. He had been sick for awhile, and he was 87 years old. But still in some ways he seemed immortal. That man had had how many heart surgeries and come out fighting? But again, to be able to mourn with my family. I felt so much love.

2. I love listening to Christmas music, especially romantic tunes like "Let It Snow." Listening to those songs and seeing the "Twilight" movie make me remember and appreciate young, new love. I remember a certain walk on a snowy January evening that ended up being 5 miles long because we couldn't stop talking with one another. It was the first night we even held hands, and yet I prophetically wrote in my journal that night that I would one day marry that boy. I did.

3. But as wonderful as new love is, I've got to admit that 10-year old love is even better. New love is the "hope". Our love is the beginning of fulfillment. To live with a man who works hard for us each day, does our dishes each night, agonizes and rejoices with me about our children, gives me a safe haven where I can be goofy, loves and respects me so completely, and somehow thinks I'm still hot after having 3 children! I couldn't ask for more.

4. Although then I think about my Grandpa and Grandma. Grandma has had dementia for about a decade and my Grandpa had taken care of her in their home. Although physically aged and emotionally tired, he would not hear of putting her in a care center. My uncle cared for her too, but there was no hired help. Grandpa was her ears and her eyes, her cues, and her warm body of comfort. Many years ago my Grandpa wrote in poem:

I count as blessings in my life
A family and a loving wife....
Throughout the years our lives have grown
Impossible to view alone;
But twined together as a vine
All closer grown with passing time.

From each to each we freely give
And freely take, and though we live
In threatening world--we still can see
Our love transcend adversity.
If such great blessings should depart
And I be left with aching heart,
If fault be mine, let it be such:
I loved not little, but too much.

Grandpa loved much, and his happy countenance and quiet sacrifice day in and day out showed it.

I couldn't make it to the funeral, but I heard how my Grandma reacted. She is not lucid at all, but she seemed to realize something was going on. During the viewing she said to my sister, "I'm crying, I'm crying," but no tears could escape. When I heard that I cried for her. My sister responded to my Grandmother who cannot see, cannot hear, and cannot understand, by putting her warm hands on Grandma's face. Grandma closed her eyes as if the touch was pleasant.

5. Yesterday I saw a link to http://www.joytoeveryone.com/ and watched the short movie clip. (YES! Take a moment and go there!) I was awed by the pictures portraying the beauty and dignity of God's children throughout the world. Many of the pictures showed relationships of family love. And I finally reached my epiphany: The world is filled with love! Parents who love children, children who love parents, spouses who love each other, siblings who love each other! My family experience is not unique, but part of a beautiful fabric of love covering the entire earth! A fabric of laughter and sacrifice and sorrow and joy. I guess I'm really slow but I just had no idea! I know that there are many who don't feel that love and I don't want anyone to feel left out! "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son..." We are the human family, all of us God's children and we have so much love to give and share with one another. Thanks to all of you who share your love with me. Merry Christmas!! I hope we can find a way to share that love with others. I hope I just shared some of it with you.