Boy Colors

Today I revisited my childhood. It was my own fault. I let myself get sucked in.

I love my nephew Brett. He's a good kid, he's pretty funny, and he seems to be somewhat fond of me too.

Brett and me, the first time I got to see and hold him. 2005.

I was helping him with his homework today after lunch and he made the comment that he used his green crayon a lot at school today. But he assured me that all was well since he likes the color green. I told him that I like it too.

Here's where it began. "No, Shelly, it's a boy color. You can't like it."

It was like a time warp had just pulled me into the past. I was four or five years old and arguing with my cousin Eric. Evidently, Eric and I always argued. But this argument will always haunt me.

According to my cousin, I was only allowed to like red or pink. But I didn't like red or pink. I liked green. No, I couldn't like green, it's a boy color.

Here's a hint: when trying to convince me to do or like something, don't tell me what I can't do or like. I will fight you. I will fight you and do or like that thing FOREVER.

Green has been, and always will be, my favorite color.

So, I immediately came back to the present as I heard Brett tell me that boy colors are the best colors.

I could agree with him on that. Green is one of the best colors.

A Letter

Dear The Neighbor's Tree,

I know you had a bad weekend. Saturday night brought the biggest storm we've seen since we moved to Arizona about a year ago. It was big. I mean, you were there. You must have seen the huge drops of rain, felt the fiercely howling wind, heard the too-close-for-comfort thunder.

But that wind. Oh, that wind. It was nasty. I was just waiting for the tree in our front yard to uproot and break through our front window. I had no idea you were going to get it.

But, The Neighbor's Tree, as sorry as I am that the wind tore you in half, I'm kind of mad at you. Half of you still stands erect next door, but half of you landed on our car.

Now, The Neighbor's Tree, here's why I'm mad at you. Why didn't you mess up our car beyond recognition? For goodness sakes, the least you could have done was make it undriveable. But you didn't. So we had to jump start the stupid thing. Tree, you've seen us have to do this several times since we so recently moved in. I'm trying to get the car to work nicely for Josh to drive to and from work, but it refuses to be an easy car to get along with. Next time, just knock the crap out of it, would you? Put the stupid thing out of my misery.

Because I only drove the car to and from church yesterday, it didn't keep its charge very well and now I'm stuck at home with the dead car as my only transportation. The Neighbor's Tree, I really needed your help with this. And you failed. I'm very disappointed. Now I'm going to have to hope some other natural catastrophe happens to it.

Grr.

Sincerely,

Shelly

Music To My Ears

The kids are attending a Traditional Academy, which focuses a lot on work in the classroom. So, when we found out about the extra music classes offered after school, I got so excited! These are band, choir, and orchestra in addition to the regular music class offered once a week during school hours.

Emma has opted to play the clarinet in band. We put out feelers over Facebook and found out that one of Josh's cousins had an old clarinet that she was willing to give to Emma in exchange for videos of her concerts. A HUGE thank you to Sara!!!

Emma and her new clarinet the day it came in the mail.

Abby, although not in a grade where band or orchestra is offered, has decided to join the school choir. She's excited to sing her guts out, and I have the feeling she's going to be great at it!


I remember joining school choirs and bands. The excitement of learning and, sometimes, excelling.


My choir and band careers began in third grade. I sang with the choir, which met in the mornings before school a few days a week and played flute in the school band.


It was amazing to discover that I had some talents. Two major events remain in my memory. First, the choir teacher came into our classroom and invited anyone who wanted to audition for the choir to come sing "America the Beautiful" in the hallway. We all lined up and she went from person to person listening to us sing the line, "For purple mountain majesties/Above the fruited plain." I remember listening to the other kids as they sang. There were some things that I learned: I wanted to be loud and I wanted to be on key. The teacher came to me and I belted it. I mean, we're talking LOUD AND PROUD! Heads turned to look at me. The teacher smiled. I knew I was in.


The second major thing I remember is the day I learned I was "different." The teacher asked for any kids that wanted to sing a descant in one of our songs. Of course, I raised my hand. I went and, once again, auditioned for the part. The teacher heard me sing and looked at me. I'll forever remember her words: "You are a good alto." I was so flattered that I went home and told my mom right away. She kind of stopped for a minute, surprised by my news. "An alto, huh?" she asked me. "Yeah," I told her. "What's an alto?"

I loved band too, but I got bored easily so I often tried to shake things up. I taught myself how to play "Jingle Bells" while the rest of the class was still learning to read the notes. In junior high I tried a few new instruments. In high school, I abandoned my flute for the trumpet and joined the Jazz Band. That one sounds more impressive than it was. I was a horrible trumpet player.

I named my trumpet Louie after the great Louis Armstrong.

Point is, I pray my children enjoy their music as much as I did. It gave me a place to be and a talent to develop. I loved doing it. And I truly believe that I needed it.


If you're ever in the neighborhood come December or May, you are officially invited to their concerts!

A Day in the Life

In case you were wondering....


....this is who I hang out with all day.

It's never dull. (She put those glasses on herself.)

Time to Expand

I've decided to start a new blog. One for my fitness goals. And because I love people to join in everything I do, I open this to you and challenge you to come blog with me.

This new blog, The Bloggest Loser, is for any fitness goal we may have. My biggest one right now is preparing for the 1/2 marathon in January. I'm planning that my training for that will help me when The Bloggest Loser, Season 2 begins on September 5. I plan to track my progress as I train and that way I can get a better idea of how I'm doing.

So, the idea is to choose a fitness goal and track it there. The goals can be anything: drink more water for a week, go walking three days for a week, lose/gain weight in a healthy way. Anyone, no matter their stage in life, should be able to join. I really pigeon holed myself with the last Bloggest Loser, so this time I want to make it a more general forum.

The new blog's purposes:
1. Track my training.
2. Track fitness goals of anyone wanting to participate.
3. Keep The Bloggest Loser alive and running.

Come check it out. It could be kind of fun.

Called To Serve

I have a new calling at church. If you need clarification of what that means, please let me know and I'll tell you. But as I'm pretty sure most people who read this are LDS, I'll just keep it simple.

My new calling is the Nursery Coordinator. I'm not the "Nursery Leader," I'm the Coordinator. Because our Nursery needs coordinating.

As of right now, we have 46 children on our rolls for the Nursery, meaning the 18-months to 3-year-olds. Of course, not all of them come every week, but most of them do. In the next 5 months, 8 more will be joining us when they turn 18-months-old. Plus, however many more move into our ward (we had another added to our rolls just today). Today we had some small classes, so we only had about 30 kids there.

I've already implemented some changes to the way the classes are running. Today was mildly successful. If nothing else, I figured out what things need to be done by next Sunday. I've created a schedule where the kids rotate activities. It's a flexible schedule, but routine enough to make everyone (including the Primary Presidency) happy. I like it better than the previous routine which involved moving the kids from classroom to classroom. It upset too many little ones. Now we bring the activities to the kids. A bit nicer.

The thing I find funny/strange/interesting about all of this is how okay I feel with this calling. Maybe it's because I spent the last two weeks in constant prayer about how to make things run more smoothly. Maybe it's because so many of the kids are really cute and very sweet. Or maybe it's because I've been humbled to the core because of my previous attitudes about serving in the Nursery. A month ago if you would've asked me if there was any calling I didn't want I would've immediately said the Nursery. Why? Mostly because I'm a stay-at-home mom with a Nursery aged kid and I can hardly handle my own children let alone someone else's. Honest enough for ya?

But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm supposed to be doing this. I don't know for how long. Maybe a few months, maybe years. I don't know. But I know I'm in the right place. I don't dread going to Nursery, although I do worry that I'm making bad changes or too many changes or the other leaders think I'm trying too hard.

I also know that I will never again think about what calling I do or do not want to have. Never, never, never!

You Got Wrong Numbered!

Did you ever see the episode of Friends when Monica and Chandler come back from their honeymoon and they find out that the couple they met while away had "wrong numbered" them? And then there was the whole debate about whether the couple had even given their real names.

I think some dude named Paul has "wrong numbered" a bunch of people. Josh's phone gets calls for Paul fairly regularly. Men, women, it doesn't matter. Paul doesn't seem to be biased. At first it was all women and we wondered if Paul had given out his wrong number to a dating service. Several of those women seemed awfully disappointed when Josh adamantly assured them that he's not Paul.

Then males started calling too. None of them seemed too disappointed, so I'm pretty sure none of them were from a dating service.

We did get some calls at the end of the school year from a certain school Paul's child seemed to attend. And a few from his doctor. We did our best to make sure they knew they had the wrong number.

Tonight when I went to wake Josh for his shift I noticed his phone in his hand and asked him if someone had called him during the day. He looked at his hand very surprised to see his phone there. He looked at his call history and was surprised to see that he had, indeed, received a call around noon. He didn't recognize the number. The funniest part was that he couldn't remember answering the phone, but the call was listed as Received. Some poor soul had had a conversation with my sleeping husband.

Josh started to worry that he'd had some sort of incomprehensible conversation with someone from work. He racked his brain trying to remember, but couldn't. Finally I asked him, "Was it someone for Paul?" Yes, it was. Paul's wrong number struck again and some unsuspecting sap had a conversation with a sleeping man.

Paul, choose a different wrong number for your "wrong numbered" schemes, please. My husband needs his sleep.

And So It Goes.... Again

Well, the Bloggest Loser is done. Fess Up Fridays ended about four months ago. And I gained weight over the summer.

It's time to start things up again.

This week I made a few goals and have actually stuck by them.

1. I've walked around our neighborhood every morning, despite the 100* heat that makes me sweat like a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest. Especially when that contest is in August in Arizona.

2. I cut out refined sugar this week. No chocolate, candy, cupcakes, brownies, ice cream, all the things I crave. But I've stuck to it. It's just as hard today as it was Sunday when I began. I'm hoping it gets easier, but until it does I'm very conscious of this goal. Very. Next week's focus is simple carbs. Heaven help me and every person I come in contact with. We're all in for a bumpy ride.

I'm thinking of starting up The Bloggest Loser again on September 5, when every kid going back to school should be there and there will be no excuses. Let me know if you want in. Any preferences this time? I'll consider everyone and everything.

Oh, and I'm planning to run in a race in January. It's called London's Run. It was established for a girl here in Queen Creek named London who passed away in 2005 from leukemia. The run was set up to help her family after her death. Every year they do the race again and donate proceeds to local children's charities. When I read that and saw the amount of the entrance fees I decided it would be worth doing. I'm not sure if I'm going to go for the 10k or the 1/2 marathon. Early entrance fees are due by December, so I'll train for a few months and decide at that time. If I weren't typing, I'd be rubbing my hands together in anticipation. I'm gonna do this, dang it.

The real Real Housewives

There's not much that I watch on Bravo. Top Chef is about it. But I do see commercials for some of their other shows. One of the most advertised being The Real Housewives of... series. I think the latest one takes place in Washington DC.

If you like this show, fine. That's wonderful. I will admit that most of my opinion is based on the commercials since I've never actually seen an episode.

From what I understand, the premise is that a camera crew follows around several different "real housewives" in the city included in the title of the show. From what I've seen, these women live on the higher side of life. They often show some sort of tantrum by one woman or another. It seems pretty common for each woman to be flanked by an entourage of people.

I'd love to extend a challenge to Bravo network. Make a series about real Real Housewives. But don't insult us by using the term "housewife." Call us Homemakers or Domestic Goddesses or Family Manager.

And use some realistic women.

Women with no make up or even a chance to take a shower.

Women with children hanging on their legs.

Women trying to make sure homework is completed, dinner is hot, and their husband is ready for his nightshift all at the same time without the help of a tutor, nanny, chef, or personal assistant.

Women vacuuming at 8:00 pm because they can't stand the sight of broken crackers in the living room anymore.

Women who are 30 lbs overweight.

Women who love their husbands more than their friends.

Women that cry while on their knees praying to know how to handle their children.

Women tired from a long day of various activities and errands but still manage to read stories to their children.

Women forcing themselves to remember to take care of themselves, no matter how guilty it makes them feel.

Women who live boring, mundane lives that would never pull in huge ratings but find more happiness in the boring and mundane rather than the things that up the ratings.

So, there you have it. Straight from a real Real {ahem} Housewife.

End of Summer

The kids started school on Monday. We tried to live up the weekend a little bit.

Friday night we took the kids to the Children's Museum of Phoenix. Every first Friday night of the month the museum opens to the public for free. We thought it would be a great way to end the summer.

Wrong.

If you haven't been to a Children's Museum before, let me describe it to you in two words: Over-glorified Playground.

Now, that may sound fun to some people, but when you have several children you're trying to keep under control in a crowd as big as your former town in Montana, it gets a bit overwhelming.

It started out with an interesting set up to get us in the door. We had to wait in line for half an hour to be given a number. Then we waited another 45 minutes or so for our number to be called. We had no idea we would end up waiting like that. Now we know.

About five minutes after entering the museum we heard a little girl screaming bloody murder. She was over by the elevator. I quickly counted our brood (there were five kids because we brought our nephew Brett) and they were all safe. Josh ran to the elevator and found that the girl's foot had gotten caught in the doors. He pulled the door apart while another man got the girls' foot out. I was so relieved that Josh could help save this little girl, but the screaming had unhinged all of us, after waiting so long to get in, and we all had a raincloud over our heads for a while.

It was fun to be with the kids (for the most part) but the museum itself was a bummer. I'd much rather pay to have an annual membership to a Science and Natural History Museum. We loved the one in Denver. We actually went three or four times, even though we lived four hours away from it.

So Monday morning the kids took off for school, gone for the entire day. Ahh.... Josh and I went to a movie to celebrate!

The kids were happy and excited. Josh and I have been walking them to the bus stop, which is in the neighborhood but about a 7 minute walk away. We've waited with them and then taken Millie on a walk around the neighborhood as the new daily routine. It's been really nice.

I love that the kids are enjoying school and also love the walks I've gotten to have with Josh and Millie. The quiet day hasn't had a chance to settle yet because I've been too busy with other things, but I'm sure the shock of quiet will hit me soon enough.

Saved

In line with the "Thankful" post the other day, I'm blogging another answer to my friend Jeri Dawn's blog game of "Getting to Know You." And I will heartily laugh if you began singing the song just now.

The latest question:

"What or who or when or how did someone save you?"

This is a huge question. And, for me, I cannot just answer it. I have to study the question, ponder it, mull it over in my mind, and then just scrap all that and write whatever may come to me. You know. How I usually write my blog posts.

Because of the different types of saving, I'm going to break it down.

Physical
I have been physically saved at least twice. Once was on the Arkansas River in Colorado. I went white water rafting with some friends from my ward, including my mom, our bishop and his family. While going down the river, the raft flipped. Here's the bad part. I can't swim. Here's the good part. I was wearing a life jacket. The river washed me away from the raft and another raft in our party had to come get me. I drank half the river that day. I also never went rafting again, much to Josh's disappointment.

The second time I was saved by Dr Richard Porreco when Matt was born. He saved my son when he was born, which literally tore up my insides. Dr Porreco found the unexpected bleeding, got my blood transfusion taken care of, and I was still able to have children afterward. If Matt had been born in the little town we lived in rather than Denver, either Matt or I may not be here.

Social
Like many others, junior high was a hard time for me. We moved to Utah and I hated it. I hated my parents. I hated the people. I hated the church. I hated school. I hated my siblings. I hated life. Several different groups of people helped me out of my funk. My parents stuck by me and never gave up or quit praying for me. My friends in my new ward reached out and welcomed me, even though it took me a year to accept that outreach. I wandered between a few groups of friends at school, never really feeling a part of any of them. It was a while before I allowed myself to truly feel a part of my friends' lives. I don't know that they ever really knew that I felt so lost for so long. But by ninth grade, I had a secure place with my friends and I still love each of them.

Love
Josh saved me. He saved me from worry, dread, heartache, loneliness, emptiness, and every other bad thing you can think of. I spent a lot of time moping around because I hadn't found him yet. He has tamed me (sort of) and I can't imagine the idea of happiness without thinking of him.

'Cause when I'm a bullet shot out of a gun

'Cause when I'm a firecracker comin' undone

Or when I'm a fugitive ready to run, all wild-eyed and crazy

No matter where my reckless soul takes me

Baby you save me

-Kenny Chesney, You Save Me

There are times when he's the only person that can calm me. Of course, he's also one of the things that shoots me off, but that's a whole other subject.

Emotionally

Just over a year ago, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed with all my being. I fell asleep praying, something I've never done before or since. My family was in jeopardy. Satan did his best to bind us in darkness. I have an inkling of what Joseph Smith experienced with his first prayer in the Sacred Grove. He had gone to pray, to ask the Lord which church he should join. But before he could begin his prayer, something happened to him:

...I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by
some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence
over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness
gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden
destruction. (Joseph Smith History 1:15)

I don't know that I can fully understand this feeling, but that night a year ago, I came close. I felt "doomed to sudden destruction." Joseph pleaded for help and was saved by the appearance of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I was saved by the inspiration to utter in my own prayer, "We need a miracle. Please send us a miracle."

The next morning my miracle manifested through several different people in many different ways. We were saved. We were free. We found the strength to overcome our "thick darkness." I've been scarred by this event. It haunts my thoughts still. But we've overcome the earthly trials it caused. Our Heavenly Father saved us through His miracle. He continues to save me every day to overcome the memory of our near "sudden destruction."

Well. That was long and a bit deep. But I've been saved. Many times. In many ways.

The Bloggest Loser -- Finale

I don't know that the beginning of this post needs to be filled with the same type of fluff the BL season finale has, so I'll get right to the good news.

And the winner is........

Carina lost 7.27% of her body weight since she joined our competition! Holy cow, Carina!! You are my hero! Despite your stresses of life (and you've had some stress, my friend!) and the unruliness of summer, you've done well and inspired me to find my inner strength. You're amazing and I'd love to see some pictures of you and your chiseled body!! :)

I appreciate everyone for stopping by and playing along. I know not everyone was able to stay focused for the entire time we competed, but I'm grateful for the love and support. I hope everyone was able to get something out of the last several weeks: a complete goal, a realization, a plan for a new goal.

Here's what I've learned: I crave routine. I have little to no will power, although my heart is always in the right place. So, to counteract my lack of restraint, I need to force myself into a no-fail situation. I know my weaknesses even better now, no matter how much I'd love to deny that I have weaknesses. I am really looking forward to next week because the kids go back to school (I know, it's so soon!) and I can create a new schedule and routine. This will be good for me and maybe I can finally catch those goals that keep running away from me.

So, congratulations, Carina!! You totally rock!

And let me know..... anyone up for another competition once more of the general population has children in school?

(It won't hurt my feelings if you say no.)

(And I'm only partly kidding about a new competition.)

The Spirit of Elijah

We were challenged at church on Sunday to begin/continue our family history search. I've been working on this for a while, but hit a road block with every branch of the family.

Last night I got a break.

I found the Johnson family. FINALLY! I've been searching for them for a few years now. I found out that the Bryants (my FIL's grandparents) have some interesting roots. They hail from Germany and England and Wales. The biggest fish in the bunch was finding Rhodri the Great, King of all North Wales (820 AD to 878 AD). He was the first Welch king to be labeled "Great" or "Mawr". Pretty cool stuff.

I got a bit tired of inputting all the names and dates and started to play around. I've recently been able to log into ancestry.com and found a fun gadget that can show you your famous ancestors. The problem with it is that it depends on the information that others have input on the One Tree Family site. The Williams/Fields families aren't connected, which is a HUGE bummer. But, I can see who I married into.

On the Johnson side we're related to:
George H.W. Bush
George W. Bush
Jimmy Hoffa
Howard Hughes
Clyde Barrow (Bonnie and Clyde)
Emily Dickinson
JP Morgan
Shirley Temple
Helen Keller
William Holden
Mae West
and several earlier US presidents

On Josh's mom's mom's side (the Pettingills) we are related to:
Several US presidents
Laura Ingalls Wilder
Samuel Morse
Daniel Wesson (of Smith and Wesson)
Robert Frost
Wild Bill Hickock
Bette Davis
Amelia Earhart
Georgia O'Keefe
Lucille Ball
Julia Child
John Hancock
and
John Steinbeck (soooo cool!)

I also found Josh's grandparents we just visited in San Diego (the Essarys). We are related to:
Mayflower passengers John Howland, Edward Tilly, and John Tilly
Ray Bradbury
John Browning
Jonathan Swift (another one that's sooooo cool!)
Humphrey Bogart
Katharine Hepburn
Agatha Christie
Henry David Thoreau
and even more various US presidents

This is fun. I've got to track down the Williams/Fields!!

Arachnidism

Saturday our family helped clean the church building to prepare for Sunday services. It was a good thing to do, even if it was at 8:30 in the morning.

I learned something: I participate in Arachnidism.

You may understand what I mean. I am prejudice against spiders.

As I swept up the entryway for a set of doors I found a little beetle. I wondered if it was appropriate to kill a bug in a church building. I figured it would be more Christ-like to allow the bug to live, so I removed it and let it go.

I was pretty proud of myself until we were in the custodian supply room and Matt yelled, "Mom, I huge spider!!"

I pulled the vacuum back and, sure enough, a HUGE water spider scurried around. The thought of being Christ-like didn't even cross my mind. My main thought was: "Kill it!! Kill it!! Kill that disgusting thing!!"

And so, I will allow a little beetle to survive, but woe unto the spiders that cross my path.

I hate you, spiders.

I am an Arachnidist.