Training

I have a need to get up on my soap box today. Bear with me. If you are offended, it's not that I don't like you. I just feel a need to clarify my stand on this particular issue.

We had our annual Ward Conference at church on Sunday. Being the Bishop, Greg had the opportunity to speak during Sacrament Meeting. He gave a great talk and I enjoyed listening to him. After the meeting was over, a friend, who happened to be male, stopped me on the way to Sunday School and said, "You did a great job training him."

"Training who to do what?" I asked.

"Training your husband to give such good talks in church."

"No", I responded, "he's that good all on his own. In fact, he's taught me a good chunk of what I know about teaching and speaking in church."

My friend replied something to the effect of, "We all know that good men are only as good as they are because they've been trained by their wives."

While I appreciate what I think was meant to be a compliment, I have real issues with the prevailing attitude that women are some sort of unfallible being who consent to spend their existence on earth with hopeless men who should spend their every waking minute singing praises to the women in their lives for saving them from themselves. Why would I want to spend eternity with an "inferior" someone? Why would that someone want to spend eternity always feeling inferior? It doesn't sound very pleasant for either person.

Contrary to some popular beliefs, men are very capable people. Yes, most of them have mothers who love them and do their best to teach them while they are growing up. Once they leave home, though, they are on their own, or should be. When they are married, those skills are used to manage their own families. Yes, they then have a wife, who shares in the responsibility of raising a family and maintaining a marriage, but it's both parties working together that makes things work.

I met Greg after he'd served a two-year mission for the church on the other side of the country and been home for over a year. On his mission he was three time zones away from his mother. He did have a mission president's wife whom he loved and we still keep in contact with, but she did not get him up, manage his time, shop, cook, clean, budget, wash clothes, or choose outfits for him. He did all of those things on his own. Several of them all on one day a week- his Preparation Day. On top of basic living responsibilities, he made and kept teaching appointments, studied the gospel, knew and obeyed mission rules, served in any way he could, strengthened his relationship with his Heavenly Father, and added to the very solid foundation of his testimony. He came home giving good talks, so that was a skill he'd developed well before he even knew me.

After his mision, Greg came to BYU where we met. He lived in an apartment with 3 other guys. And, once again, he and his roommates cooked, cleaned, decorated, went to school, shopped, dated, worked, attended church, and all of the other things that people do to survive and have fun at school. I met him when he'd been home almost 18 months and we were married 18 months later. Was he perfect? No. Was I perfect? Heavens no. I didn't expect perfection, but neither was I looking for a "fixer-upper". I was looking for, and found, a capable person who loved the Lord, wanted to be a good husband and father, was willing to work hard, and loved me for who I was. He was my best friend well before we were married. He helped me to see how be a better me and I just plain liked being around him. I could see the kind of person he could become and I wanted to be part of that process. I know we have both played a role in shaping each other into the people we are today- not because he or I "trained" each other but because we loved and encouraged the good while helping to remove and replace the bad.

Now we've been married for nearly 2o years. That means I've known Greg now about the same amount of time than I didn't know him. Looking back, neither if us is the same person in many respects that we were when we got married. We have tried, experimented, cheered each other on, talked, cried, failed, succeeded, learned, and tried again TOGETHER on so many different things that there isn't room enough in my available computer memory to list them all. Our kids have managed to survive us so far and the working together has strengthened the team that we are.

Do we do everything the same way? No. On the really important things we are very united and the same. We both love our family and God, have similar views on the raising children, the importance of education, budgeting money, etc. On others, not so much. Do I shop, cook, and clean house "better" than he does? Maybe. I certainly do those things more often and am thus more familiar and maybe more efficient than he is. However, he steps in just fine when I am gone or not feeling well. Being more removed from those situations sometimes allows him to see more clearly a way things could be done better. Do I provide for our family better than he does? No. Could I? Maybe, but I couldn't be as good a mom if I also had to be the dad at the same time. That's where the team work comes in. There are so many "jobs" that need to be done in a family that it's nearly impossible for one person to do them all. Ask any single parent. There are things that just have to go when there aren't two of you. Heaven knows there are enough things that have to go when there ARE two of you. Neither of you will be as good as the other at everything. I shop and make dinner a little more efficiently. So what. Throw me into a molecular biology lab or a teaching room at the library and see how "efficient" and "productive" I am all of a sudden. It's not that I can't do those things. It's not that Greg can't do what I do. It's that we work together to meet the needs of our family by taking on different responsibilities and hoping our combined efforts cover everything.

With time, experience, and communication we've even become better and more efficient at helping and supporting each other in our different responsibilities. We learn skills the other has, what it takes to keep everything ticking, then help it to get done. Greg has bent over backwards in this department. In fact, most of the time I feel like he picks up more of my slack than I pick up of his. The best part is, I just still plain like being around him and he's still helping me to be a better me.

So, it all comes down to this. I need him and he needs me. Neither of us can get to the Celestial kingdom without the other. I learn from him every day. I'm grateful that he has skills and abilities where I don't and vice versa. We compliment and learn from each other creating better halves of a more and more complete whole. Maybe it's training after all. We're just working out together under the watchful eye of the same Coach.

Miracle Worker

Last fall I ran into an old friend of mine. Justine and I were friends from 4th-7th grade in northern Michigan. We lived in different towns, but were in the same small branch of the Church. Her family moved to southern Michigan and mine moved a year later to Arizona. We saw each other a couple of times while we both attended BYU, but lost contact after that. Last fall she happened to be standing in front of me in line at Parent/Teacher conferences at the middle school. We have sons the same age and in several of the same classes. I had no idea she lived in the same state, much less the same school boundaries.

We've gotten our families together twice, now. The second time being last night. My parents are visiting us, her parents live in UT, and we all got together to have dinner and catch up. It was lots of fun. It wasn't until this morning, though, that I realized she'd worked a couple of miracles last night.

The first involved Joseph. For most of Joseph's life, he has been a bit of a social enigma to me. He hated play groups and going to the park. He never wanted to go visit anyone. He was just happy to be at home doing his thing and he could make life kind of miserable for the rest of us when we did go out. I worried that he'd never have friends. To my surprise, he's been a very social and out going kid. He has lots of friends and has a couple he spends as much time with as he can. He still hates to go places and visit people, though. He'll tolerate the drive over, about 5 minutes there and then he's ready to leave. Often he's not very discreet about it , either. It's lots of fun for the rest of us.

This morning I realized that not once last night did he say anything about wanting to go home. In fact, he didn't even come upstairs from playing except to grab another cookie. I can't remember the last time that happened. He is friends with Justine's oldest son at school. I hope they hang out more often. I might actually get a chance to visit with one of my friends occasionally.

The second miracle involved me. My friend is involved with a small magazine called Segullah. It publishes essays, poems, and artwork by LDS women about twice a year. I'd never heard of it before, but I read through some of the articles this morning and enjoyed myself. I have no grand aspirations when it comes to writing, but our conversation last night reminded me that I hadn't written anything besides a family newsletter in months. I realized I missed it. That's saying something because I hated writing in high school. Somewhere along the way I've picked up the idea that writing can be fun and my brain was missing it. I've sat down to post something to the blog several times in the last couple of months, but nothing came to mind that seemed worth writing about. I blamed it on being busy or tired. This morning my head was flooded with ideas and I'm still busy and tired. Maybe it was some sort of writer's block. Maybe I was just too tired and busy from all the holiday stuff going on. Either way, it was gone this morning. Too bad I didn't sit down and write while all the ideas were flooding, because you might have something a little more interesting to read at this point. At least the ideas made an appearance. That felt nice. Maybe they'll trickle back in and I'll put them into words here. That would feel nice, too.

So thanks, Justine, for dinner, conversation, fun, and reopening a door I hadn't noticed swinging shut. I needed all four.

HALLELUJAH! It's almost Christmas!

I saw this on Momza's blog this morning and couldn't help but share the smiles. Have a fabulous day!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
(In case my posting record remains about the same, see you in January!)

Splitting the Sky in Two

I'm generally not a huge poetry fan, but the following quote has been on my mind for the past couple of weeks. I'm thinking of memorizing it, but for now I've just been letting the imagery run through my brain and find little spots to lodge itself. It is the end of a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay titled "Renascence". I read this portion on the first page of Virginia H. Pearce's book A Heart Like His: Making Space for God's Love in Your Life.

The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,-
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away
On either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two;
And let the face of God shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat-the sky
Will cave in on him by and by.

There are lots of applications and lessons to be drawn, but for me, right now, that quote is the perfect word picture of gratitude. Have you ever spent the day holding a pity party because you don't have this or that or life isn't fair because ___________? I wind up feeling pretty pinched and crushed. Have you ever sat down and listed the things you are grateful for? Sometimes the list starts out slow, but as I think and start writing, the list grows faster than I can get it out. Suddenly, I see my surroundings with new eyes and I feel like I have the world at my feet.

Thanksgiving is 13 days away and counting. I hope your day and holiday season is spent with the sky split in two.

Ramblings on All Hallow's Eve Eve

It is Day 2 of Halloween 2010. Yesterday was costumes at school. Today is trick-or-treating. Tomorrow is the actual day, but probably be the most un-Halloween of them all. That's good. I think we'll all need a day to come down out of the sugar stratosphere. (I'm glad I'm not subbing in Primary tomorrow!)

SuperDad is traversing the neighborhood in the wind and rain dressed as his alter-ego, Greg, and accompanying his two youngest sons on their quest for the largest candy haul ever. I haven't seen anyone else out, so the chances are good. I, the Mom, sacrificed her fun and super hero status to stay home in the dry house and man the front door. I think I'm ok with that. It's quiet, so I thought I'd sit at the computer and see what comes out the ol' fingertips. Then, I'm off to make pumpkin seeds. Ok, the pumpkins made them. I'm going to bake them. And then eat them.

1) We watered the dirt in what used to be our garden for 30 minutes in the rain today. Seems a bit over-the-top, but we added sulfur to the dirt to make it more acidic and it needs lots of water to start dissolving. I never knew that sulfuric acid is one of those things a garden needs to grow, but apparently it is. Here's hoping for a bountiful strawberry crop next spring!

2) I'm being very creative on the costume front this year. On Day 1 I was an undercover Tobacco and Firearms agent masquerading as a mom. Today I am an undercover CIA agent masquerading as a YW Camp leader. I have the shirt and everything. Tomorrow, I'm going to be an undercover FBI agent masquerading as a Latter-Day Saint woman at church. See, very creative. I thought of that all by myself while I was doing dishes this afternoon and made the idea retroactive to yesterday.

3) I cut up all the bell peppers we grew and put them in the freezer this afternoon. They were either not all the way ripe or hotter than the ones you buy in the store because my hands were tingling for over an hour after I finished and I had washed them several times. Never had that happen before. I'll have to remember to use them sparingly.

4) It's been 35 minutes since my family left to go trick-or-treating and we just had our first visitors who are not related to me or are one of the relatives friends. I'm seeing lots of left-over candy in our future.

5) The garage smells like heaven because of all the apples out there waiting to be made into sauce. Mmmmmm! Can't wait.

6) We actually got about 5 pounds of potatoes out of our garden and some of them were actually regular potato size. They'll be dinner next week.

7) 10 more minutes and trick-or-treating set #2 has just left. They thought our Halloween decoration that consists of 5 jack-o-lanterns with a glow stick inside one of them was cool. They are my favorites.

8) Greg pulled out the little 3 or 4 foot pine trees growing on either side of our garage this morning. I love having them gone! Neither one was doing fantastic, but one of them really was about dead. I don't know how long the trees have been there, but we've been here over two years and they were here when we arrived. Greg tied a rope around it a pulled it out with the car to find that it's roots were all still in a ball. No wonder the poor thing looked like it was about dead. The weeds underneath it seem to be doing pretty well, though.

Ok, the rain has stopped and the doorbell keeps ringing, so I'm out of here. Although, what's up with the teenagers trick-or-treating without at least attempting a costume? Maybe they are undercover secret agents, too. We're all over the place, I tell you.

Have a happy Halloween!

When You're in the Service of Your Fellow Beings...

...You might just be helping yourself.

Earlier this week I noticed that someone had pulled out the last roll of toilet paper in the main bathroom. I was grateful and mildly astonished that the plastic packaging actually made it into the garbage can, but no one had gotten a new package to go under the sink. Thinking I'd be nice to whomever was caught paperless at some upcoming point I decided to grab a new package and place it in the cupboard. Well, guess who found herself as the paperless user in there this afternoon? Yep, you guessed it- Me. Let this be a reminder that no act of kindness is ever unrewarded!

Frosting

Joseph made dinner last night. It was a requirement for his foods class at school. He had to include an appetizer, main dish, side dish, beverage, and dessert. All the food groups needed to be represented. At least one of those items needed to be made from a recipe. The rest could be packages that were prepackaged. He also had to set the table and clean-up the dishes afterward.

He opted for Black Bean Quesadillas because he likes the beans and we hadn't had them in awhile. He also opted for broccoli as his side dish because it's one of the few green foods he'll tolerate. Chips and salsa was the appetizer (but really, what family do you know that serves an appetizer before dinner?!), water the beverage and applesauce cake the dessert. I don't buy many prepackaged anythings, so he got to be an over achiever and have two made-from-scratch recipes.

A friend came home with him to do homework and then they played on the computer for a little bit. He didn't say anything about dinner, so at 4:30 I asked when he'd like to get started. He made the cake first, so it would have time to cool before we ate it. While it baked, I went and picked whatever was ready from the garden. Lucky Joseph, not only were his recipes made from scratch, several of the ingredients came from his backyard and were started from seeds. Doesn't get much more "scratch" than that! We had cantaloupe that didn't look totally ripe, but the vines were dying, so I brought two of them in and they were added to the menu.

Shortly before the cake was done he chopped the green pepper and made the insides of the quesadillas. The cake came out of the oven, and he put the quesadillas together and put them into the oven. Then he chopped up the broccoli and put it in a pan, then sliced the cantaloupe (too ripe, but we'll try again next year). He flipped the quesadillas once, set the table, removed the quesadillas from the oven, dished everything onto plates, and called everyone to dinner. After we said the prayer, he looked down at his plate and said, "It's weird to sit here and know how much work went into my dinner."

That comment made me think. We don't eat overly fancy or complicated meals. Our kids are not ignorant of the ways of the kitchen. They make their own breakfasts and lunches. All of them could fry an egg in elementary school better than I could when I left for college. They used to help make dinner every night (years ago, now) before evening schedules got to be too crazy. They even still like to come in and help sometimes while I'm finishing things up. I guess they've all gotten used to the fact that dinner is dinner and it's something we eat every night. It's just always there. It was good for Joseph to be reminded what all goes in to making it be there.

After dinner, Joseph got up to wash dishes. We almost never have frosting on our cakes because one, it's an easy way to cut down on fat and sugar, and two, by the time I actually get around to it, it's to late or I'm too tired. We had talked previously about frosting the cake and he thought he'd like it. I asked Joseph about it again on his way to the sink. He asked, "Do I have to make it?" I replied, "Yes." He looked right at me and said, "No." The other four kids piped up with, "Yea, we should have frosting" and "Why can't we have frosting?" Only the one doing the work could really decide between what was a want and what was a need.

I wondered, how many things do I completely overlook in my assumptions that they'll always be there? I don't think much about the cars until one of them ends up in the shop for something or other. The water is always just a handle turn away, until it's not working. Electricity- at my fingertips until a truck takes out a power line. 2,000 square feet is a minimum for living space until you find that your family being together is most important and that can happen in 700 square feet just as well. There's always going to be another full moon, fall leaf, or blooming flower until something happens and my eyes don't work right. A walk to school is no big deal until my knee is in a brace and even walking to the bathroom is out of the question. My Grandma has always been here, but she's nearing 90. That won't last forever. A loving family is always there and willing to forgive my faults, but that may not always be the case. An illness, disaster, or hurtful comments or actions could take it all away- and sometimes without much notice.

This morning I realized, "Wow, it's weird to sit here and think how much work goes into my happy life- and I don't do but the tiniest little bit of it." Most of the things that I take for granted in my life are here by someone else's work. I pay the electric bill, but their technicians keep the juice flowing. I pay the house payment, but I don't earn the money nor did I build the house. I can plant flowers, observe stars, or call Grandmas. I chose to marry my sweet husband and gave birth to my children, but it's not me that keeps any of them here, growing and blessing my life. The one who really does all the work makes much better decisions on what's needful and what's wanted in my life. He knows much better than I what I need. I have been blessed beyond measure- and with much more frosting than I could have ever hoped.