Seriously Ugly

It occurs to me that with a title like that, it might be fun to have YOU fill in the blank.  Go ahead, blogging friends!  What is seriously ugly?

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And now forward to the real reason I decided to post.  Hang onto your chairs--this is gonna be exciting (That's code for "Ya Might as Well Leave Now)!

On Sunday I was cutting up veggies for hobo dinners.  I caught my thumb with the amazing Cutco knife and gouged it pretty good.  It's not a very long cut, but it's at just an angle that it catches on things.  As the skin dies, I'm cutting it back, but I still keep hitting it and causing it to start bleeding again.

The thing is, now it's healed enough that it doesn't even hurt when I pull it open.  So I showed up to work today with dried blood all over my thumb.  So far I haven't found blood spots on my clothes, but who knows?

My thumb is seriously ugly.

Thoughts About 9/11

September 11, 2001, dawned like any other day.  I had been a preschool teacher for a whopping ONE WEEK.  At about 7:00 a.m. that day, my sister-in-law called me and told me to turn on the television. 

Briana had band practice that morning, so I took her to school shortly after the awful moment that a second plane struck the World Trade Center.  As we drove the .5 mile to her school, our 5th grader looked at me and said, "Mommy, what does 'hijacked' mean?"  My heart broke a little bit at that moment, as I realized that there would never be a time when our beautiful, innocent children would not know any more what "hijack" or "terrorism" meant.

But off to school we all went.  I had preschool and had to take care of a lot of 3- and 4-year-olds that day and for the next 2 days.  Parents came and went, tears and shock walking in and out of our home like ghosts.  And then it was Friday, September 14th.  Friday was when I stopped and watched the news.  Friday was when I listened to the tales of loss and grief.  Friday was when I saw the aftermath.  The rest of the world had been dealing with the horror for 4 days, but for me it was new and fresh and biting.

Friday was my day to get everything done.  I was running errands in a haze of grief.  All day. I remember crying at the drive-up at the bank, and the sweet teller shared her testimony of the Savior's loving care.  Dear sweet bank teller:  Do you know that it was you that helped me begin the healing?

On September 11, 2002, I took our children to the University of Utah to make a huge, human flag.  Ironically, it was one of the most fun things we ever did together.  But we remembered.

We still remember.

Homecoming

That's our beautiful daughter, on the left.  As beautiful as she looks in this picture, it's not as lovely as she is in real life.  She's happy.  She's talented.  She's kind.  She has balance.  She has common sense.

She also has the tremendous talent of being able to do her own hair before a dance.

Happy Homecoming!

Lucky, Lucky Me!

My friend and her friend spent about an hour with us last week.  Both of them said, "Being with your family was so fun.  I wish I had that."  I wish they did, too.  And I'm grateful we have it.

Our older son agreed to sing in church with me today.  His voice is fabulous, and it was a blessing to sing with him.

Spencer said, "That was one of the best musical numbers I've ever heard in church."  Landon said, "Not one of.  The best."

Hobo dinners tonight!

Huge thanks to Joanne, our pianist extraordinaire; Suzi, a friend of 25 years, for bringing over a sweater for Ash; Jeri Lynn, who lent me her sewing machine AND came over later in the day to make sure I was still sane; and Kayla, who brought over her bolero jacket, just in case.

Also, huge thanks to all of you (special thanks, Daddy!) who responded to my last post.  I'm still welcoming comments.  I'm still trying to be teachable.  I'm also feeling better.

I am incredibly blessed.

I Wish I Had a Big, Fat Chocolate Chip Cookie Right Now

It is amazing how people's words can affect us.  After a conversation this morning, I find myself (remember that capable, confident woman from a day ago?) questioning whether I am actually any good at my job.  I wonder if people are constantly looking at me thinking, "She's unhappy and it shows in her work."  I wonder if I really AM unhappy.  I wonder if there is something wrong with me because I consider my job a JOB in a CORPORATION, not "building the Lord's kingdom."  I wonder if meticulousness is a requisite for someone in my position.  I wonder if meticulousness is a word.  I wonder if I should be less confident--would that make me more capable?  I wonder if it's really that important to think about this.  I wonder if meticulousness or confidence or capability make me a better PERSON.  I wonder if being a secretary or a teacher or a doctor make me a better person.  I wonder if I should go home for the day, because canning peaches not only sounds more fun than PARs but might be more important and productive and person-building.

The person I spoke with used the phrase, "It is evident to me that..." and it's made me think about things that are evident to us.  For example, we see someone who is disheveled and we assume that they are lazy or they live in filth and squalor.  It is "evident" that there is something that is not right (by our standards).  What is not evident, however, is WHY that person is the way he is.  Maybe he's disheveled because he was up all night with a sick child and he overslept his alarm.  Maybe he's disheveled because he has a mental illness and it was all he could do to get dressed and get out of bed.  Maybe he's disheveled because there's been an emergency and he's trying to get there quickly.  Maybe my version of disheveled is his version of put together.  Therefore, it is evident that I should not draw conclusions or pass judgments on what I think is evident.

I believe it is my responsibility to work to become a better, more perfect person.  I also realize that my perception IS my reality, and your perception is your reality.  Now I am considering how much of this conversation I should internalize.  I'm willing (and want!) to be the best I can be in my work.  Do I have to reach a point of total fulfillment in order to be better (best) in my work?  Does it matter?  Is my perception skewed; should I try to have his perceptions more as my own?

Am I OK?

Please comment.  Pretty please?

Worrying About What People Think

I consider myself a confident, capable woman.

But yesterday I got onto an elevator (I was alone in said elevator), and immediately after the doors closed and the ride began it registered that someone with serious body odor had been on that elevator.  Recently.  (I hope.)

God answers prayers, y'all.  Cuz no one else got on the elevator before I got off.  AND there was no one waiting for the elevator when I got off. 

So no one could blame me.

But still, I wanted to put a poster up--"I DIDN'T DO IT!  P.S.  Take a shower, please."

Wanna See Something Super Sweet?

Check out ambersagersphotography.blogspot.com.  My friend is wonderfully talented.

(And her subject matter is wonderful!)

Hilladay

Having older kids is fantastic is every way except one:  It is IMPOSSIBLE to get everyone to the same place at the same time.

And so--we held our Hilladay on Labor Day, which was the one and only day nobody had to work.  It's also the day when all service opportunities are closed for the day.

So we slept late, ate a homemade breakfast together, cleaned up, colored some boxes for the Utah Food Bank, went to a dollar movie, barbequed hamburgers, and ate ice cream sundaes.

It was probably not the most memorable Hilladay for our children, but it was just what this mama ordered.  And as everyone knows, if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Ah, bliss!

Back to School

I took the last three month off in my schooling.  Mainly it was to get my funding together, but it was also to psych myself back up for school.

Yesterday I had a phone call with my mentor.  Today I got everything accepted online and found my way back into the class I technically failed last term.  I got an assignment turned in and started on the last task for this class.  I hope to complete it by the end of the coming week.

Next comes a big, fat Finance class, which has me a bit nervous.  I am told by my mentor that it is, by far, the most difficult class I will take.  Luckily, I am surrounded by finance wizards all day.  It's important to know where to go to get help, right?

Please pass the No-Doze.

My Own Personal Roller Coaster

I could get all metaphorical here, but fortunately (for you) I am not going to.

I used to be able to ride all roller coasters.  Except for the ones where they lock you in a cage and keep you spinning and/or sitting for a long, long time.  I don't do cages (which could also be metaphorical; but I digress).

There was a period of about 15 years when I did not ride a single coaster of any kind.  And when I went back I learned to my dismay that there are many rides which I can no longer do.  Anything that spins?  No bueno!  Even the up/down and speed stuff can only go on for a short amount of time.  If I go too long (ride after ride after ride), I am guaranteed to be sick.  And you can call me weird, but I don't like to be sick.

When Spencer and I cruise, I do okay while we are on the ship (although I do use the motion sickness patch).  But it takes me about two weeks before the world stops rocking.  It's kinda not cool.

Ten or fifteen years ago I started experiencing extreme dizziness or vertigo while I was at work.  There I was, just sitting there at the keyboard, and the room would start spinning.  It usually only lasted about 30 seconds, and then it was over.  I didn't like it.

Yesterday I started feeling tippy.  Not tipSY.  Tippy.  Like my world is tipping.  Kinda like on a ship.  It's almost a dizzy feeling, but mostly I'm just waiting for things to balance out again--like my center of gravity is off.

It's like having my own personal roller coaster. 

Now you can get metaphorical if you'd like.  Talk amongst yourselves...