Life in my world

On Saturday Steven started his Red Cross First Aid training as a Chief Scout requirement. I set up the class for our scout troop because I know some instructors through my health care provider CPR re-certification I have to do every year for work. Organizing the class was a pain because it involved getting individuals to commit to being there and I was a little stressed that we wouldn't fill the class to capacity as per my agreement with the instructors, but in the end we had 18 participants (they were looking for a minimum of 12) so that was pretty great. Once we had the class filled I started worrying about the instructor not showing up. I was a little uptight about the whole thing, apparently. For a girl who doesn't like being in charge of things, I sure get myself in charge of a lot of things.
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After I got Steven home from day 1 of first aid training, Jaclyn and I headed out to the Young Women's General Broadcast. It was one of those church meetings where every speaker is even better than the last with Sister Dalton and President Monson being my favorites. Sister Dalton spoke about how she had stitched a white rose on her *bandelo* as a young woman to symbolize purity. Then she shared that a year ago after meeting with President Monson and accepting the calling of General Young Women's President, he offered her a white rose from a bouquet in his office and right then and there she knew that it would be her mission to call for a return to virtue. I drove straight from the broadcast to the grocery store hoping they would have white roses, because it was too late for a florist on a Saturday night, and they did. I gave one to each of my young women on Sunday and retold Sister Dalton's story. Then I told them that if they prepare themselves, Heavenly Father will have a message to communicate to them as they listen to General Conference next week. It might not be the exact words a speaker says, but rather something the spirit whispers to their hearts: just like the white rose President Monson offered to Sister Dalton was a message especially for her. I told them I hoped that they would keep their rose in their rooms and remember to pray and prepare for General Conference.
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I must say, high school is different than I thought. I helped Jaclyn carry this prop for a skit into her school at lunch time yesterday. I expected to be completely ignored. For some reason I was thinking the high school students are all aloof and self-involved. Wrong. We attracted lots of attention and (friendly) comments as we carried Steven's science fair backboard, re-purposed, to Jaclyn's English classroom.
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And finally, I bought myself a new sweater 2 weeks ago on a bright, sunny, snow-melting day. I felt a little silly buying winter clothes in springtime weather, but it was a great decision. It has been mildly cold and majorly snowy since then, and my new sweater is helping me enjoy the continued winter weather the best I can.

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Crazy Hair Day

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Steven watching (oh so carefully) for the carpool. I sure hope the color washes out after school before he gets on the bus for the youth temple trip tonight.

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Chloe would have no part of the green hair spray for her flower garden hairstyle. She is against all things artificially colored and hair products in general.

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For Carmen I braided in yarn extensions to create a crown on her head. We then added sticks and feathers to make it a nest. It actually turned out really pretty, and if I had a little more Stargirl in me I would do her hair like this on regular school days!

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I'm craving chicken pot pie

(I've been craving it for nearly a month)

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We'll be having it for dinner this coming Wednesday - I can't wait!

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And why should I have to wait? Because this casserole must remain in my freezer until March is over. I signed up with the compassionate service arm of the Relief Society in my ward to have a casserole ready to go should anyone need a meal this month. Every month 5 sisters sign up to have a meal prepared in their freezer, available for a last minute compassionate service dinner. If you aren't called up on to share your casserole, then your own family eats it the next month.

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So I guess I shouldn't count my chicken pot pie before it's baked. There are five more days left in March.

Still Snowing

Snowshoeing @ Scout Camp

Steven got yelled at by his Scouter last week. I figure that has to be some sort of important coming-of-age experience, or at least one shared by all boys who have ever been scouts. A few days later at winter camp the leader apologized to Steven (and each of the other boys all individually), which may or may not have been necessary. I don't know. The scouter has been trying to talk to me about it and I am avoiding him. Let's not bring mom into this one, okay?

The day after winter camp we got a foot of snow, which would have made for a very different winter camp if it had come any earlier.

For Steven, snow is money. He's got a contract shoveling for a 7-unit condo building. At this time of year he's a little sick of the work, but every time it snows I cheer inside because Steven is saving up for a school trip that is happening next year and every dollar he earns from someone else is a dollar he doesn't earn from me. Steve has to pay for half the cost of the trip, but the truth is he has to earn the full amount of the trip ($1200) because 10% of his earnings go to tithing and 40% of his earnings go to savings. Saving for the school trip and searching out more opportunities for work is doing good things for Steven's mission fund.

Having said that, hopefully it won't snow for the next 2 days because Steven is away at band festival and the last time Steven was away (band camp) Ken was compelled to go shovel in Steven's place before he caught the corporate jet to Denver.

(which felt slightly wrong)

(at least to Ken)

Some things skip a generation

/Like hair color, temperament, and (hopefully) family history work.

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Grandma came over on Sunday and taught Jaclyn and Steven how to work within the Family Search website. Working together, they came away with 4 names to take on the next youth temple trip. Thanks Grandma!

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Help, please.

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This book was Jaclyn's first required reading for English 10 AP. Have you read it? I hadn't before, but now I can say I don't care for it. I know Brave New World is listed in The Modern Library's one hundred best novels, but it doesn't pass the 13th Article of Faith standard (seeking out virtuous and lovely) nor the For the Strength of Youth standard (choose only media that uplifts you, avoid the vulgar and immoral).

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I would like to be able to go to parent teacher interviews in a few weeks with a list of great literature worth academic study that isn't full of promiscuity. I can't stand the idea of a high school English career full of more books like Brave New World.

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I know some of you are big literature buffs. Some of you have taught school. Could you make some suggestions for books worthy of both academic study and gospel standards (I will only read and watch things that are pleasing to Heavenly Father)?

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Ironically, my message to Jaclyn's English teacher will ultimately be in line with the message of this very book that I am protesting. As Jiddu Krishnamurti said:

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"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."

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We went to the mall tonight (Carmen and I)

Right off the bat she bought me a bag of Kernels popcorn so that I would be good. But then we shopped at a whole bunch of her stores and didn't look at anything for me. And my feet started to hurt but I didn't complain at all, except the one time when I asked her if she was ready to go home yet. I was sure glad when the stores closed and we had to leave before we got locked in.

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Spending birthday money is serious business.

Been awhile since Jaclyn showed up on the blog

So here she is - all dressed up for the Valentine's dance awhile back. (My dress. My shoes.)

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The thing is, Jaclyn censors my blog which is really limiting.

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I wrote a post about something that happened with her earlier, and she didn't want me to share, so away it went. The upside of writing and then immediately deleting a post is that blogging always moves me to action: I blog about something I don't like, hit publish (which I did just long enough for Jaclyn to read it), and suddenly I feel equipped and motivated to take action.

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I will know by tomorrow noon if the subject of the recently (un-read by others and now) deleted post has been resolved, but at the very least I will move forward with my efforts.

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To each his own

When my car tells me it is 18 below, nothing makes me happier than finding this:

A Full Service gas station. This one is close(ish) to Carmen and Chloe's choir and I have used it twice now on cold nights. It feels like a victory to make it to Thursday before I need to fill up because there is not a full service station conveniently located near my house.

Ken, on the other hand, walked out the door tonight with boyish excitement to go back for his truck - he left it along the way home after he drove over a set of keys on the road (strange) and punctured his tire. It must have been some sort of caveman-overcome-the-elements instinct plus the anticipation of working with tools. Maybe. Really, I have no idea of why he seemed to find adventure where I would have found aggravation.

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You look so sweet laying there on the rug. Why are you good when I am home and bad when I am away?
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The evidence is always waiting for me on the mantle where the children have piled up the things you've stolen while trying to start a game of chase. It frustrates them!

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And yet, they love you so much more than I do.

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