Williams - Halloween

Sage is a witch. I did her makeup. I am pretty proud of my work. It helps when you purchase a decent set of face paints. Herbie was Darth Vader on Saturday at the ward party and Halloween night he was a Black Ninja. Evey year he has to be more than one thing. Nora is a cowgirl. Herb and I dressed up to match Nora but unfortunately we didn’t get pics. Take a look at the pumpkin in the center. Herb carved it and it is supposed to be ZOMBIE’s. He has a bit of an obsession and he is pretty excited about the pumpkin. Halloween night someone smashed his and Sage's pumpkin in the road. I think Herb was more sad than Sage. Take note of Sage's face in the pic above when she is cleaning out her pumpkin. It is priceless! 

Halloweenie

It all started with Yoda. Anika and Emmet wanted Ben to be Yoda... then it progressed to Luke and Leia. Janna and Mike dressed up but Brandon and I (we're boring) didn't. After seeing Janna and Mike's costumes, Anika looked at me and B like we were losers and asked, "What are you going to dress up as?" She seemed disappointed. I suppose we'll have to dress up next year.

Help!

On numerous occasions, I've verbalized to Brandon that I wouldn't mind any calling in the church except... being in charge of Homemaking night. Or at least it used to be called Homemaking. Then they changed it to Enrichment. And now, apparently, it's simply called Relief Society meeting. I think they keep changing the name so that when they ask you if you will do it, you say yes but only because you don't know what in the world a Relief Society meeting coordinator is. The title is so covert, even the Bishop didn't know what it was.

I came home last week from meeting with the Bishop totally surprised. Surprised because I've only been a ward missionary for 6 months. And surprised at my reaction. I have loved being a ward missionary. I felt like I got dumped by my boyfriend and needed to eat a quart of ice cream. At this point, I still didn't know what a Relief Society meeting coordinator was or I would have been upset for another reason.

When I found out that Relief Society meeting was really Enrichment which is really Homemaking, I about died. Leave it to the Universe to bring to me exactly the thing I have always said I never wanted to do.

Surely, Heavenly Father knows I can't even plan, organize, and execute a birthday party for my own child. She's 4 and I'm still stacking two boxes of ding dongs into a pyramid and calling it a cake. Surely He knows I'm extraordinarily uncomfortable taking initiative, taking charge, and delegating work. Oh, I cringe.

Speaking in church doesn't phase me. Knocking on doors with the missionaries is a delight. But even organizing a planning meeting to plan the RS thingy makes me squirm.

I met with my committee at my house Sunday and they were so lovely and nice and helpful. So I feel much relieved. Which is good. Because last night I literally had nightmares all night about this upcoming quilting thing. I even woke up to nurse twice and went back to bed to have more nightmares each time.

I am, though, making the Sister Missionaries promise not to dump me, whether I remain an official missionary or not. They always need members at discussions. Phew!

_____________________________

I had to walk Ben during RS Sunday and I felt very overwhelmed with his heavy bod, my heavy bag, and my inordinate fear of planning, organizing, and calling ladies on the phone.

We looked at this painting for a while.

I look at this picture a lot in the hall with Ben and always fixate on the woman with the infant. I imagine she's thinking... This is amazing! It's Jesus! Now where am I gonna sit down and nurse this baby?

I imagine she feels exactly like I did this summer at Knotts Berry Farm as I looked and looked for a private corner, nook, or bench to nurse Ben.

Then I wonder if, culturally, it was acceptable way back then to get your breasts out whenever/ wherever and even leave them out all day and I get mad because I want to leave my breasts out all day. Because hello! Babies need them, like, all. the. time.

And then Ben and I were looking at this painting and he got very excited.


He kept looking at the painting, then back to me with a huge grin on his face.

And then I felt better.

I remembered the WHY of all we do.

I can do this, I thought. I can call ladies on the phone!

Williams - Pumpkin Patch

 Nora thinks she is a big girl and wants to carry Herbie's backpack around. She also wishes she could go to preschool with him. Isn't she adorable? Especially when she keeps her hair berrett in so her bangs aren't in her eyes.

Annual Pumpkin Patch trip. Although, this year I told the kids we were only going to the pumpkin patch for fun and I would buy them pumpkins at the grocery store. It is much cheaper. They were fine with it and ended up getting some monstrous pumpkins for  1/2 the price. The maze, the train, and the boat are enough satisfaction for them.

Williams - Goodbye Grandma

We moved my Mom to Utah. We are placing her in a nursing home in Draper. She is at Kelli’s until all paperwork is finalized for the care center. It has been a painful couple months trying to make that call. Needless to say, I have shed many tears.

Williams - Swimming

Williams - Baby News

It's a GIRL!!!
I was convinced we were having a boy. Boy was I wrong!

No-Fail Recipe

You know those recipes you keep in your repertoire that are no-fail? I thought I'd post my no-fails when I happen to make them. Because I know how hard it is to find no-fails. When you find one you love, it just sticks.

20 minute black bean soup from Fresh365 blog.

It's not even 20 minutes. More like 5 seconds and I usually have everything in the house. It really does take 5 seconds to make and Brandon loves it.

I was cooking recipes from Fresh365 for a while before I ever realized it was a all vegetarian! (I use chicken broth because that's what is always in the cupboard.)

Sometimes I gross/grease it up a bit with cheddar cheese, sour cream, fritos, etc. And I've even added chicken to make it a little more satisfying for The Big B.

Try it. You will like it.

Shut In Robert B. Shaw

Like many of us, born too late,
(like all of us, fenced in by fate),
the late October fly
will fondly live and die

insensible of the allure
of carrion or cow manure.
Withindoors day and night,
Propelled by appetite,

he circles with approving hums
a morning’s manna-fall of crumbs
hoping to find a smear
of jelly somewhere near.

In such an easeful habitat
while autumn wanes he waxes fat
and languorous, but not
enough to let the swat

of hasty, rolled-up magazine
eliminate him from the scene.
Outside, the air is chill.
Inside, he’s hard to kill.

Patrolling with adhesive feet
the ceiling under which we eat,
he captures at a glance
the slightest threat or chance,

and flaunts the facets of his eyes
that make him prince of household spies.
And as he watches, we,
if we look up, will see

a life of limits, like our own,
enclosed within a temperate zone,
not harsh, not insecure,
no challenge to endure,

but yet, with every buzz of need,
by trifles running out of speed.
One day he will be gone.
Then the real cold comes on.

Eddie

I've been crushin' on Eddie since I was 11.

It's still sooo good after all these years:



In middle school, I wrote 'Eddie Vedder is better with cheddar' on the leather bottom of my backpack... very large and in very black marker. Now, I know we all go through an awkward adolescent phase there for a bit but my phase was somethin' else entirely. I excelled at being weird. I think I might still be weird.

Anika

"Sure is just a nickname for yes." -Anika

Undone

Nic,

The second I read your proposed title Something's Gotta Give I thought of yesterday. And everyday like yesterday. Which is everyday. Because everyday is the same.

The kids were up at dark as usual and the work began as usual. All day, housework. Momwork. And I kept thinking this one thought: a homemaker's job is never DONE. Every job I do comes undone. The house gets dirty again. The kids' nails keep growing and need to be clipped. The kids get dirty again. The clothes get dirty again. The toys get scattered again. The food gets eaten. The baby needs to nurse. The trash fills up again and on and on and on.

I feel like I'm on a crazy train that's never going to stop. Ugghhh, I sighed, when will anything ever feel DONE?!

That's when I realized... it'll be done when we're dead.

After that thought, I was instantly content with my alternative (to death). The laundry basket never empty, the mouths to feed, the floors to be swept... it all means we are alive. My mundane chores breathe in and out, day after day, predictable and repetitive as a pulse. My home is alive. We are alive.

And I am ever so happy to be here.

I've decided to become independently wealthy.

That's it. I'm going for it. I have two really good ideas for making money and I'm done mucking around in dreamland. It's time to do it. So Alana, I need your help with one of them. It will take a year before we see any real money, but I'll count you in when we finally do. Ashley and I are starting a blog called Something's Gotta Give. We are working out the details but we need your writing. You may as well make money for ranting and raving right? More later.

Oh and- we are having our annual Halloween party for adults with kiddos again so please come! Sugar Leo is the best street to trick-or-treat on and Meree is making her home made rolls plus I'm doing Zuppa Toscano. So you should come to that because I haven't seen you in forever!


Annie and Mom @ the BYU homecoming parade.

No wonder the photographer took so long editing... Not long enough, obviously.

This is my whole life...

...or at least I wish it was. Ive got some other STUFF to deal with:

1. Alana, when I read what you write and how you write, it makes me want to curl up in a little ball, crawl under a rock, and never again resurface to the world of posting. You're the only person who makes me feel that way- even including ... well, maybe not Harriet Beecher Stowe, but at least Stephanie Myers for sure. You're so much better than the rest of us. Want to buy a new house? Just compile your most racy posts and send them to a publishing agent. I wish I had time to write more.
   
2. Quinn is from Venus, Nicole is from Mars.
3. I'd like to be independently wealthy.
4. This year I finally realized there is no end to being stretched too thin. No no, I didn't say I was thin. Tisk tisk. Just that I used to exist believing in the pretense that there would come a day of respite from the madness. There would be entire days for me when my life was totally like those perfect women you read about on those "Isn't Life Bliss" blogs. Those ones that sew and bake and make out with their husbands all whilst posting every bit of ooey gooey life-is-delightfulness for us to scathe at. Not Debbie Downer, not even depressed. Simply SLAPPING myself across the forehead that I could have been so naive! Silly me. Silly me.
5. Furthermore.... Just WHAT was I thinking showing up to family photographs like this...? I'll have to burn them all.
   

Chiasmus in the Book of Mormon

Okay, ladies.

This . Read it now or we can't be friends anymore. Because I think this blog is about to change tracks onto one of my obsessive, several-month-long fixations. After which (maybe sometime deep into winter) I will drop off the blog and the planet into a deep rest/numbness of my mind and you will all think I'm dead. You all know how I work by now. Don't worry or cry; you will like it. It will be a welcome break from my recent (ongoing) GOAT/AGRARIAN FORTRESS phase.

The first time I ever learned about chiasmus was in a book I read years ago. It talked a lot about the book of Jonah, which is a chiasm, with the center point of the inverted parallelism being: They who observe lying vanities forsake their own mercy. And I'm just lately learning about chiasmus in the Book of Mormon which... AWESOME.

There are plenty of arguments against the Book of Mormon that people encounter. My nephew, in particular, has had a lot of questions for me. I want to talk so much more about this later. Ohhh, there's just too much to talk about.

Anyways, I'm tired and going to bed but... Alma 36!!! Boooyah!!! The center point? Jesus Christ, Son of God. Now aint that perfect and pretty?

That's a First

Well, I've never come home from teaching with the Sisters with a pack of cigarettes before. That was a first and probably not the last if I have this calling for a while.

It's so strange that I just told the cigarette story about my Dad, too. I must have been remembering forward. (?)

The church now has a stop-smoking program complete with grapefruit juice, cinnamon mouth wash, and vitamin C supplements, all which surely would have come in handy for my Dad. (You just know that night he was baptized and the cravings hit he was thinking what the heck have I done?)

The Sisters are teaching a couple and their daughter. Both parents smoke but want to quit and be baptized. The first step to the program is that the smoker must crush their cigarettes. The lady was very reluctant, especially because it was a brand new pack. But crush 'em she did. But her crush was weak and we didn't want to leave a whole pack of cigarettes in the trash in the Relief Society room for some foolhardy boy scout to discover. That's why they came home to my trash.

The Sisters are my social life. I totally thought, when I got this calling, that the missionaries would be ladies. Turns out, I'm the lady. They are young and hip.

Goodnight.

Williams - Oregon Garden

 We had so much fun with the kids at the Oregon Garden. It was rainy and cold but you wouldn't know it by the way my children are dressed. I had to practically force them to wear tennis shoes instead of flip flops. 80 acres of beautiful gardens. The kids loved the childrens garden and their favorite was the water garden where there was a water dragon made from a plant in the water. It has been so great to take them to some of Oregon's amazing historical sites and experience it together.

Save the Water

This is a GREAT story.

My Dad was not a member of the church when my parents married. My Mom took the kids to church by herself for years. As my brother neared the age of 8, my Dad started taking the missionary discussions.

The morning of Alex's baptism, my Dad was out on the deck having a cigarette. My Mom said he stayed out there for a very long time, long after he finished smoking, and just seemed to be staring and pondering.

After Alex was baptized there was confusion as everyone was lingering. Janna was a baby and fussing in my Mom's arms so my Mom didn't really know what was going on. She asked her mother (my Nonna) what was happening and where Alan had disappeared to. Through tears, Nonna said, "It's Alan. He said, 'Save the water.'"

Save the water, they did. Everyone waited while my Dad was interviewed for baptism. And it happened! My Dad and Alex were baptized the same day.

I wasn't born yet but I like to think I was watching, amused at this cast of characters I would join in a few years.

I just think that story is delightful. I can totally hear my Dad..."Save the water!"

He screwed up royally later in life and struggled with many things. But he never did two things after that day: doubt the gospel or smoke a cigarette.

He was excommunicated when I was about 9 but was a believer 'til the bitter end and working his way back to the church and us. And the smoking... I think that's so funny. Only because he had so many addictions he couldn't shake to save his life, literally. But my Mom says that cigarette on the deck that morning truly was the last he ever touched.

I love him.

Vaya con dios, amigo.


________________________________

I'm enjoying writing about random memories. I'm not sure they're enjoyable to read but it is very cathartic for me so I'm going to keep it up.

I've been reading the history of my Great Great Grandfather and it dawned on me... I wouldn't know any of this unless someone wrote it down! I have really caught the spirit of wanting to know more about my progenitors. It's so fascinating. I'll just keep writing random stories as I get to them and printing them on actual paper.

Cute Ben Is

Anika and Emmet insisted Ben be Yoda for Halloween. Thankfully, I was able to procure an infant's Yoda costume so their dreams weren't crushed. I don't even know how they know who Yoda is or how they came up with that. Cute he is.

Ben had a checkup today. 24% weight, 74% height, just about identical to Anika at this age.

Anika was being weird this morning and I kept asking her if she felt okay. Finally, I felt her and she was hot, the thermometer confirming a fever. Too bad because today I was supposed to go to her school to help. I will be helping in her class every Wednesday.

Uggghhh, is it that time of year now? One bug after another?

But I'm loving the clouds and rain. This is the first time I've stopped sweating in six months!

Who knew sexism could be so funny?

This.

I have this problem.

Not concubines... but difficulty conveying meaning.

Words are weird.

10

Last night's post got me thinking a lot about that period of my life... 10, 11, our house on a street called Arbon, and my Dad.
___________________________



Janna and I were downstairs playing Tetris. (Remember Tetris?) My Mom came downstairs and said (I can remember it so clearly), "Your Father is leaving. Is there anything you would like to say to him?" And I don't know if it was how she said it or what that made me respond, "I do."

I said I did but I didn't. There was this bizarre dynamic with my Mother when it came to my Father. I felt, even as a young adult, that I had to hate on my Dad. Sort of like I had to take her side.

I went upstairs and out to the garage where my Dad was hastily gathering some belongings before he split, my Mom following right behind me. I knew perfectly that leaving meant leaving.

What followed was a scene straight from a Lifetime Original movie. Maybe even Jerry Springer. Or I don't know. But a sad scene it was. I pretty much let my Dad have it. Every word in the book. I called him horrible, horrible things. He stopped everything and froze, almost mummified, and took it. I can still see his face.

Obviously, I did have some (a lot of some) genuine hurt and anger. When else does a 10 yr. old shout the f-word and other vile things at their own parent? But even so, it hurt me saying it to him. Somehow I imagined I was proving my loyalty to my Mother with that performance.

Leave he did like he'd done before. But this time he didn't come back. The next years were tumultuous. He left us with absolutely nothing. When I was 16, he started making small efforts. Like bringing me his can of coins wherein I would find Bahamian coins from his trips with one of his women. For years, we jokingly referred to him as 'Uncle Alan'.

But I knew I still loved him. And I knew he still loved me. Somehow, I never doubted our bond.

I had all but forgotten about that incident until a few years ago. I stuffed it somewhere. My Mom brought it up because my Dad, before he died, brought it up. He told her how that moment stuck with him all through the years. Uggghhh. Sickening.

I feel so bad. I know I wasn't to blame. I was only 10. But still. I think about that moment in time. Only a few minutes. The future, my Dad's terrible and violent and bloody demise, my very life now, hinged upon that brief scene. What if, whether he deserved it or not (he didn't), my Mom had responded to him with forgiveness that day? What if I had been capable at 10 to talk them both out of their anger and haste? What if he decided to stay? What if my Mom let him?

I want to go back and do some more cussing... at all of us. At my Dad all over again for leaving us. At my Mom for not offering forgiveness yet again. At myself for not responding with compassion. We all could have chosen a different path that day. We all chose poorly.

These, I think, are the scenes heaven and its angels pause to watch in horror.

Little Is Big

I have a tendency to look at little kids and think they are little. That sounded stooopid. How do I put this? It's easy to disregard what young people are capable of understanding. It's easy to look at adolescents, teenagers as idiots. So many young people are capable and brilliant and already responsible for themselves as they approach God.

I'm not feeling at all articulate tonight. I need sleep. Stay with me. I'll try desperately to make sense.

I've been a ward missionary for 6 months or so now and have been amazed. It has been the coolest experience. One thing on this journey that has surprised me is how many youths are investigators. It never crossed my mind, really, that little kids would be taking the discussions. A lot of times, the family is inactive and the kid wants to be baptized. And sometimes they are from a home with no members and still want to be baptized, their parents allowing it.

This one little kid we are teaching now is 11. He basically is raising himself. He is home alone all day and buzzes to the chapel on his razor scooter for lessons. He wants to be baptized. I was sitting there looking at him thinking... What is this little kid doing? An 11 year old boy making time and effort to learn to pray, learn about all the principles of the gospel? He's so little!

This other little boy the Sisters are teaching comes from an inactive family and is leading his family. He is 9! 9 people! The Sisters gave him some picture Book of Mormon stories to read and he said to us... "No, I've just been reading the real Book of Mormon." He showed us where he had been reading. 9! Reading the Book of Mormon on his own terms, his initiative.

There are two 15 yr. old boys who are friends that are also awesome. They phase, moment to moment, in and out of being immature 15 yr. old boys to men. It's so confusing. One second, they can barely sit through a video because they have the laughs and are making fun of the Jesus actor because he looks like Tom Hanks and the next second one will say something so profound and spiritual. I look at them both and can catch glimpses of their great potential. I can see the men God could make out of them if they let Him. One finished the Book of Mormon and was starting it again. The Sisters asked him why he likes to read it. He said, "It makes me feel good."

Anyways.

Seeing these wonderful little people has been such a great reminder of what kids are capable of. It is natural when we get older to forget kids are capable. In fact, it's the age the Lord loves. Joseph Smith, David, etc.

So back to Lupe, the 11 yr. old. I was staring at him during his lesson, wracking my brain wondering why he was so into it. And I remembered...

I was 11 when I first read the Book of Mormon from start to finish. I was taught in Primary about Moroni's promise (10: 4-5) and I thought, Well that sounds like a good plan to me.

I was upstairs alone in my Mom's room the night I finished reading it for the first time. I closed the book and thought for a bit. Well, I guess I'll go pray about it like Moroni said...

I went in my room, knelt down and asked Heavenly Father if the book I just read was true. I had barely uttered the sentence when I was flooded with feelings I had never felt in that degree. Love. Joy. Peace. Rejoicing. Love. Love. Love. I started to weep. I knew Heavenly Father was real and had just answered my prayer. I was big into writing in a journal at that period of my life and wrote about my experience... My heart felt like it was replaced with the sun and sunshine. (Yes, I've always been dorky.) But sunshine it was. Literal, physical light and glory. I didn't really understand at the time that these were the feelings of the Spirit that I would become well acquainted with during my life.

Though I didn't understand much of the Book of Mormon when I read it at 11, I understood the Spirit of it. Each time I've read it since, the Spirit reveals more truths and speaks in the same way.

When someone is feeling that power, the missionaries point it out to them. Usually, it is something totally new to them and they don't recognize what that exactly is. This is something Brandon and I have been teaching Anika lately... how to recognize the good feelings of the Spirit and understand that's how Heavenly Father speaks to us.

If someone (anyone!) reads the Book of Mormon with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, God will manifest the truth of it through the power of the Holy Ghost.

Being with the Sisters and teaching these kids has been such a good reminder. Why is it that we grow up and forget we were once 11? I've been trying to look at all these young whippersnappers with eyes that can see their great capacity. Little bodies have big spirits. Or large capacity.

_________________________________________________________


Before blogs even existed, I knew I had to help my family through writing. Writing about anything, especially the gospel. I started a newsletter thing with my family a year before my Dad died. That newsletter helped us regain our relationship and also (he told me) helped him in his effort to return to the church.

My family has had a private blog for years now that we all post on. And only occasionally to I make good use of it to write something. The feeling has been grating on me for a long time to pick it back up and start writing daily about spiritual things. I will post a lot of them here also... like the one above.

In case you don't know me yet, let's talk about my nature. It comes so natural to me to be crude and gross and, I dunno... stoopid. I try to be funny a lot of the time and usually like to swear or be sick to be funny. And I do so totally think that is funny. I'm sorry. I know it's infantile. Saying booger and bad words makes me laugh.

I recently spent some time going back through the JNAC archives and was surprised to find I was offending myself. I honestly was offended by some of the things I said. And embarrassed for myself. That is a good sign, I guess. It's here in the archives, laid bare to the world. I'm slowly, slowly, slowly giving up tiny bits of carnal things. It's a process. Loud laughter comes easily to me.

Sad But True

Ben sits up to get sleepy in his crib and then slumps over, folded in half, sound asleep. Once he is out, I go in and roll him over so his legs don't lose circulation. Weird.

Family

Jenny asked me recently if Andrea really exists, as she has never seen a photo of her.. Jenny, here are a few to prove I indeed have a sister named Andrea. She is 5'6" and looks dwarfed by her giant boys. It's so strange that one's little babies can grow into big men. Freaky. Jake is a genius and Ian is a genius (literally...officially-tested, card-carrying member of MENSA!) and they are both delightful, wonderful young men. Those two boys are as close as brothers to me...don't seem like nephews. I grew up with those boys and feel like a proud Mama/sister bear.