Princess Jekyll and Miss Hyde

My beautiful baby girl has a split personality. I'm afraid it's true. On the one hand, she is about as "girly" as they come. She loves to carry around a purse. She is so very motherly to her baby dolls (of which she has a plethora). She loves to wear necklaces and bracelets, etc. She loves shoes. She completely adores her daddy. She can be soooo sweet and gentle, with loving pats, big hugs, and darling kisses.

Then, there's the other side to her. The side that winds up and whacks you in the face for no reason at all. Often, repeatedly. She's not even upset, usually. I'm not sure what possesses her. She has had lots and lots of practice apologizing for this strange behavior. And when this darling little child says so sweetly, "Wahwee" it almost makes up for the whacks.

Now, if this were my only evidence, I would think that she was probably just a pretty normal little girl. However, we happen to have an arsenal of toy weapons (courtesy of her 5 year old brother), and when this sweet little angel gets the toy battle axe in her hands, she has a primal reaction and turns into Miss Hyde. With all of the might of her tiny little body, she violently swings that battle axe back and forth and chases us around the house with her little toddler legs going just as fast as they can. And, if you actually get caught, you will be shown no mercy. (I promise to add a movie clip of this in the very near future!)

There is a warrior inside of this little Princess package. I kind of like it. I definitely want her to remain feminine, but I'm comforted (and admittedly, a bit impressed) to know that she has what it takes to defend herself! All Princesses could probably use a bit of that, don't ya think?

A Guy Who Keeps Things Real

There used to be a commercial on TV that I HATE. It was for some carpet spot cleaning product, and it featured various family members spilling a variety of stain-producing items on the beautiful light-colored carpet. Without fail, the perfectly composed, mother, with her lovely combed hair, says through her unforced, natural smile, with her white, shiny, straight teeth, in a sing-song voice, "Oh, that's O.K."
I'm not entirely sure why it caused such a total sense of loathing within me. Perhaps, it is because I was raised in a home that did not have a lot of money, and so it was drilled into us to take care of what we had. Perhaps, it is because my own nature is usually to kick into crisis-mode (which usually includes a bit of "OH NO!", "Oh GREAT.", or even at times, "OH CRAP!!) and take care of the mess, and then to follow up with reassurances that I really do love the perpetrator more than the carpet or whatever else was threatened or even ruined (sometimes after having to pause and remember this fact). So, maybe, to me, her reaction just seemed SOOOO staged; so unlikely in the real world; so irritatingly imperturbable.

In the same way, I used to not like Job. Yep, Job. The Old Testament prophet who is the ultimate example for enduring trials well. Ya. Not my proudest moment, but I really had a problem with a guy who could lose his whole family (with the exception of his wife) and pretty much all that he possessed, and say, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." (Job 1:21) I guess to me, it seemed dismissive of the significance of what he had lost. It echoed, in my mind, the sing-song, "Oh, that's O.K."
Admittedly, however, that was before I ever took the time to actually READ the book of Job. All I had ever heard from the book of Job was the verse I just quoted above. Now, however, I loooove Job. I am reading the book of Job for the second time now. The first time I read it, I literally could hardly put it down. Admittedly, (as with a lot of the Old Testament) there is stuff in there that I don't get, but I definitely understand most of it, and the over-all feeling is unmistakeable. Job did not in any way, shape or form dismiss the significance of his loss. From the depths of his soul he grieved. His soul was peirced, and he longed for death rather than to endure the pain of his loss.

"Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul;
Which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures;
Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?"(Job 3:20 - 22)

On top of this, in the midst of his mourning, his so-called friends called on him; supposedly to offer their support and condolences, but in reality -- not understanding the depth of his loss, his grieving, or of the workings of the Lord -- they add to his pain through their unfounded accusations and judgements.

"BUT Job answered and said, Oh that my grief were throughly weighed, and my calamity laid in the balances together!"(Job 6:1 - 2)

He was in physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, as well as social agony. Even his wife tempts him to "curse God, and die." (Job 2:9) The true beauty of Job, and the reason that he is the paramount mortal example of enduring trials is that he never lost his faith in the Lord. No, Job did not endure his immense trials without complaint. Personally, I love that he complained. Sometimes trials are hard, really hard, and pretending that everything is o.k. when it's not, does little to actually make things o.k.. Job actually did a LOT of complaining, or rather, speaking from the pain of his soul. There was no sing-song, "Oh, that's O.K." attitude. But there was a deep and abiding testimony that he and all he had (and had lost) was in the care of the Lord.

Yep. I love Job. He keeps things real.

The Wisdom of the Five Year Old

It is FREEZING cold outside. My mail is sitting in my mail box, waaaaay out by the street.

Ben often enjoys the adventure of going to get the mail all by himself. So, today I enthusiastically asked, "Hey, Ben, wanna go get the mail?"

He very matter-of-factly answered, "Mom, you are not given sons to do everything for you. You are given sons so that they can grow up to be adults and can get bodies. (pause) Daughters too. You were a daughter once, so you should know."

My mail is still sitting in my mail box. Waaaay out by the street. In the FREEZING cold.

Gone Too Soon

My heart aches tonight for our dear friends and neighbors from our last home. They lived right across the sidewalk from us in our townhome condominium complex. They are wonderful, genuine people. There is no pretense with them. They were welcome in our home -- no matter what state it was in -- and the feeling was mutual. We loved hanging out with them.
They moved away one year before we did, and we missed them terribly. They had one child, a beautiful daughter, when they moved. They have since added three boys and a baby girl, with another child on the way. They love and adore their children, and are amazing parents.
We received an e-mail from them today telling us that their eight-month old daughter passed away unexpectedly yesterday. I cannot even imagine. I am grateful that they have the gospel, and that they are sealed to their little one. I am sure that is comforting, but I'm sure there is still an awful ache, or perhaps, a fearful numbness.
They live far from us, and they were far from home, visiting family when it happened. I do not have a phone number or an address for where they are currently staying, so I cannot even send anything. I want to do something to help, but it seems all I can do is to pray for them. Not that I'm underestimating the power or importance of prayer, it's just that it doesn't seem like enough.
And so I ask you, please hold your loved ones a little closer and a little longer tonight, in memory of baby Esther.

There are pictures of their beautiful children at this site: www.hibbertfamilypics.blogspot.com

2008 Small and Simple Resolutions

When I was twelve years old, I made a commitment to read the scriptures everyday-- even if it was only one verse. I did very well with this, though many times, for many years, it was just a verse a day. Fortunately, this had the effect of forming a habit of daily scripture reading, and I even reached the point of not being able to sleep at night until I had read the scriptures. More importantly, it created within me a love for the scriptures, and I have truly rarely missed a day of contact with the scriptures since I was twelve.

This year, as I pondered setting New Year's Resolutions (and remembering all of my failed resolutions) I remembered this experience, and hoped that this sort of approach might carry over into other areas of my life. So, here are my resolutions:

This year I will exercise five minutes a day! (Who doesn't have 5 minutes a day to exercise -- just like who can't read one verse per day? Hopefully it will grow into a love for exercise)

This year I will eat, and feed my family, one vegetable and one fruit per day! (Hopefully this will grow into the five a day, but you've gotta start somewhere right?)

This year I will make my bed each day!

This year I will keep my kitchen sink clean each day!

I am well aware that these are integral parts of many women's lives and personalities, but I have much room to improve. So, here's to the hope that out of small and simple things, great things will come to pass!!

Merry Christmas, from Our Home To Yours!!

We wish you a Merry Christmas -- in our NEW Christmas jammies!!

"For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!"

Sometimes the trials, heartaches and sadnesses of this life seem magnified somehow against the backdrop of the glittering Christmas lights and jovial sounds. But tonight, as I was pondering the trials and difficulties that so many people I know and love are facing, I remembered that Christmas should infuse a "thrill of hope" to all, but especially to those who are in need of succor. Jesus Christ came to earth to provide deliverance to all who would accept. He delivers us from the "monsters" of sin and death, but also from heartache, and heart-break, from pain and sorrow caused by other's choices, from depression, from addiction, from disease, from loneliness. He came because of love, and His love is powerful enough to heal and to free, to correct and to comfort. The love of our Father in Heaven to send His Only Begotten Son, and the love of our Savior to come for each of us truly should bring us a "thrill of hope" for which this "weary world" can rejoice. Merry Christmas! May the true Spirit of the season lighten your loads, and bring hope to your hearts!

Here is my humble addition to the beloved classic: (I don't expect this to catch on.)

Silent Night, Holy Night.
Here I kneel, Seeking Light.

God, heal my heart,
Heal my soul, hear my plea.
Help me remember
Thy Son came for me.

Help me to trust and believe
Through Him I will be made free.


Silent Night, Holy Night.
Shadows flee; Breaking light.

He has all power,
all glory, all grace.
He heals my soul,
wipes the tears from my face.

Savior, my Prince of Peace,
Jesus, I trust and believe.

My Continuing Education

Ben + Thanksgiving time + Kindergarten =


I've been trying to tell you just how independent this little girl is. Today, she decided that she would get herself dressed. She tolerated, though didn't like, my help with her top; but she was going to get her pants on by herself!!!

Empty lego box + Brianna =

Legos + Pooh bear + Tigger + a little Ben magic =

ACE bandage + Ben + Brianna =

2 minutes alone + toddler + cereal box left on table =

2 minutes alone + powdered sugar from German Pancakes + 5 year old =
Indian Headress + Star Wars Storm Trooper Blaster + Thanksgiving time + Ben's imagination =
Big brother + empty Lego box + Little sister =

Malt-O-Princess and Director Ben

Today we had our first accumulating snowfall of the season! It was beautiful to look out and see the world transformed into a winter wonderland. The kids, of course, wanted to go out into it. Ben got himself all bundled up, while I was bundling Brianna. I don't have a snowsuit for Brianna, yet. So, I put layer after layer on our little Princess. By the time I decided that she would probably be warm enough, she resembled the Malt-O-Meal kid. She was soooo cute in her little snow boots and winter gear.

Ben had already headed outside, and Brianna was going crazy to join him. So, when I only had my boots left to pull on, I let her out the door, and asked Ben to keep an eye on her for just a minute.

Before I had my second boot pulled all the way on, I could hear her crying. I quickly pulled it the rest of the way on, and headed out the door. Ben was explaining, "I tried to keep her from falling in the snow, but she fell anyway." Sure enough. Poor little Princess! She must have face-planted, because half of her face was covered in snow! I picked her up and dusted off the snow. She was VERY upset, but stopped crying long enough to turn back and say, "Bye, bye" to the world of snow. I do believe that she was communicating that, "Hey, I've tried playing in that cold, white stuff, and it didn't work out. . . . So, what's next on the agenda??"

******************

Playing with Ben is like being on stage with no script, and having a Director tell you every action to make, thought to think, and word to speak. Line by line, moment by moment. No improvisation. Don't try to think or imagine, it's all provided for you, at no extra charge!! I love my son very much, but I don't enjoy this type of play. However, no matter how many times I try to explain that I would like to be able to think of my own things to say and do, I never really make any progress. I think I need a better agent! If I HAVE to follow a script, you'd think that at least I could get it in advance!!!

For example, yesterday's play began like this:

Ben: You are watching a sport, and your favorite player is Blood Swiper.
Me: Blood Swiper??!
Ben: Yes. Now, Blood Swiper is your favorite, and you love all of his moves, so you're always cheering for him.
Me: (tentatively) Go Blood Swiper??!
Ben: Then, you get the chance to meet your favorite player.
Me: Um, Blood Swiper, where did you get your name?
Ben: Mom, in the game you really didn't ask that, OK? It's just his name, OK?

Now, you see my dilemma? Blood Swiper??? Hello? Where did that come from? OK, no more horror movies for Ben! And YOU try cheering for someone named Blood Swiper! I couldn't even shorten it: "Go B.S!" Ya, that would for sure come back to haunt me.

An Original Story by Ben

The Turkey

Once there was a turkey. He ran away from home because he wanted to explore. The next morning, he found a cave. And he decided to explore it. He found two narrow paths. He chose one narrow path that was scary and it had bats in it. And then he took another path and found home.

The End.


My scanner is not cooperating, or else you could see the awesome illustrations