JJ's new thing

Junior can't seem to do anything without his tounge hanging out lately,

and this week he's been carrying around the stuffed "cwab"

his aunt made him for Christmas and won't sleep without it.

Have we not reason to rejoice?

When I heard about President Hinckley’s (Prophet in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) death on Sunday night, I thought of how I would miss hearing his voice in General Conference and how many times I’ve been inspired by his messages, but my first thought was “Good for him.”

I’ve felt so sorry for him since his wife passed away. What a busy and lonely calling his must have been, and how much harder to not have someone to confide in. I admit I’ve felt a bit of a reluctance to say “amen” when I heard someone pray for his life to be extended. As a church, we love him, but we can survive without him. There is beauty in the organization of this church and how seamlessly leadership can change. I’ve had to roll my eyes at hearing on the news how all of the church is in mourning for him. Of course we miss him. But of all doctrines about death I’ve ever heard, ours is the most full of hope and promise. We absolutely know that when we die we return to Him who created us. And we can be sure that our Prophet knew and knows our Savior so that the transition from this world to the next one was only joy and rejoicing. He is with his wife, whom he spent his life with and also with his God whom he spent his life serving. I can think of no more joyful tidings than this. And can only look in awe at his one final, loving example for us to try and follow.

Reason to feel smug

So recently, our car was stolen. Right from our apartment parking lot. We came outside to find a smashed window on the ground and that was all. The next day it was found in an impound lot, 20 blocks away. Other than messing up the steering column with the way they hot-wired it, and taking John's sunglasses, the thief left everything else alone; because, lets face it, who else wants a package of fruit snacks, some diapers, board books and two car seats?

The funny thing was, whoever took the car changed the preset radio stations. Not all of them, just two. John and I have very eclectic taste in music, so scrolling through our presets you will hear: classical, oldies, country, alternative, classic rock, news, pop and even a Spanish station with bad reception in some parts of the valley. So what kind of radio station can a car thief not stand to listen to, even for three miles? NPR and classical music. Was it so horrible to listen to that he (or she) not only had to change the station, but also change the presets? Heaven forbid that you accidentally get a little culture while joy-riding in a stolen car.

Three years old

So Ian turned three in October, and for the past few months I've been thinking, Who are you and what have you done with my child?

Even though I've studied quite a bit about child development, this still threw me. All of a sudden he is more moody than a teenage girl with her first crush. And he is not as easily distracted as before, so once he starts to throw a tantrum - he really goes. And this is the kid who does not throw tantrums. There were no "terrible twos," but I guess we're making up for it. The other morning he screamed for 10 minutes because we made him change out of his (wet) clothes. I try to be patient, but most of the time, he doesn't even know what he wants, so there is no way to pacify him. (Sometimes I wish we hadn't gotten rid of the pacifier.)

Then the other day in church, we were sitting in the chapel waiting for the meeting to start. Ian leaned over to me and whispered, "Mommy, can I sit by you?" "Of course." was my response. "I love to sit by you." He scooted as close to me on the bench as he could and then casually reached his arm up and put it around my neck. He held me like that all through the opening hymn: until his daddy decided that he wanted to put his arm around me. Then there was a good-natured, muted fight over Mommy. Then he sat quietly with a book through the rest of the hour. And my heart melted and I immediately forgot what my problem with three-year-olds was to begin with.

Snowy Day

We got almost a foot of new snow and the boys were so excited to go out and play. Daddy wouldn't come out, so we had to throw snow balls at the window. And I helped the boys build a snowman, which they promptly knocked over.

Hey, Mom. . .

I can see your two eyes with my one eye!

Celiac Paranoia

Since Ivan has celiac there is a possibility that our children will have it, but there are so many other factors involved, it is also very possible that none of them will have it. But it is always there in the back of my mind. Every new doctor that we see, I ask about celiac, every time one of the boys is sick, I think about celiac. Change in the number of diapers? Celiac. More tired than usual? Celiac. Rash? Celiac. For those of you who don’t know, Celiac is an autoimmune disorder causing the body to attack itself when a person eats gluten, a protein found in wheat, oats, barley and rye. Symptoms include diarrhea, stomach cramps, failure to thrive, small size for age, eczema, general achey-ness and tiredness. Treatment is very simple, just eliminate all foods in your diet that contain gluten. This means no regular bread, pasta, cookies, cake, soup, and lots of other things you never think about.

But as I said, my husband was diagnosed at age four, he’s been living with it a long time - really it isn’t a huge deal. Grocery shopping can be a little involved, but other than that, it isn’t bad. I only cook things he can eat and volunteer to bring something to every family dinner and neighborhood potluck so that I know there is something there he can eat. If I’m really craving something, I go out. Our house is almost entirely gluten-free. I’ve thought that if our kids do have it, it will be the simplest thing in the world. No big deal. The Real Deal Three weeks ago, we noticed that Neal wasn’t acting like himself. He was clingy, tired, wouldn’t eat, having a hard time sleeping, his skin was really dry. He has already started talking, but he wouldn’t unless he had to. So we quit giving him Cheerios and PB&J. Everything else was already gluten-free. The next day at naptime he and his brother sat in their beds and laughed at each other for an hour. I get tears in my eyes as I watch him jump around in circles for no reason at all. We have our little boy back. We will be heading for the doctor this week. It is possible that he just happened to get over a virus at the same time we just happened to change his diet. For now, I’m just happy that he is happy.

Sharing

I love Spanish rice. For me it is the ultimate comfort food; warm, just the right amount of flavor, great texture, fills you up but not too much. Even when I’m not feeling well, or maybe especially when I’m not feeling well, I love Spanish rice. Mmmmm. For me, that is always the way to judge a restaurant. The problem is, I could never seem to duplicate it at home. I’d tried several different recipes and none of them had turned out. Then one day, after a lengthy internet search, I found one - the perfect Spanish rice recipe. It was SO good. I raved about it for weeks. Everyone knew that I had found a great Spanish rice recipe. I offered it to my mom, my mother-in-law, my sisters, my friends, pretty much anyone who would listen.

And it got me thinking. Why is it so easy to offer something like that to perfect strangers, but when it comes to something really important to me, I’m hesitate? This summer I read a series of books that I loved. And I have a friend who I always swap books with, but I was really nervous about loaning them to her. They weren’t particularly intelligent books, just romance novels that I found at a time when I really needed an escape from a particularly stressful summer. I don’t know if I was worried that she wouldn’t like them, or that she would think I was silly for enjoying them so much - for some reason, I felt that I was revealing too much of myself. And that she would be insulted by my offering her a book if she turned out not liking it.

It gets even more touchy when I think about religion. I have never been happier in my life than when I’m living the commandments of God. I feel such peace and joy in everyday things like playing with my kids and even just cleaning my house when I feel close to my Savior, Jesus Christ. But somehow, even when it comes up in conversation, I worry about offending people. What if they think I’m pushy? What if they think I’m weird? It is the strangest thing. Is it really going to insult someone if I want to share something with them that makes me happy? What am I afraid of?

So here it is:

If you want to read a fluffy romance novel that is also well written and engaging, may I recommend Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer. http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/

If you want more peace, love, patience and joy in your life, may I recommend turning to God in prayer and reading the Bible and Book of Mormon. http://www.mormon.org/; http://www.lds.org/

And if you like Spanish rice, I’ve got a killer recipe.


Spanish Rice Recipe
2 tablespoons olive oil (can use up to 1/4 cup)
1 onion, chopped fine
1 garlic clove, minced
2 cups of medium or long-grain white rice
3 cups* chicken stock (or vegetable stock if vegetarian)
1 heaping tablespoon tomato paste or 1 cup of diced fresh or cooked tomatoes, strained
Pinch of oregano
1 teaspoon salt
*Check the instructions on the rice package for the proportions of liquid to rice. They can range from 1:1 to 2:1. If your rice calls for 2 cups of water for every cup of rice, then for this recipe, use 4 cups of stock for 2 cups of rice.
1 In a large skillet brown rice in olive oil, medium/high heat. Add onion and garlic. Cook onion rice mixture, stirring frequently, about 4 minutes, or until onions are softened.
2 In a separate sauce pan bring stock to a simmer. Add tomato sauce, oregano, and salt. Add rice to broth. Bring to a simmer. Cover. Lower heat and cook 15-25 minutes, depending on the type of rice and the instructions on the rice package. Turn off heat and let sit for 5 minutes.