To The Contributor

I have not known what to call you until a few days ago. "Biological father" hasn't ever worked for me, mostly because I have already used that title for the man who raised me, and I have no reason to take it from him. I keep telling myself not to take it personally that you were willing to pay to have me killed. I understand that not all see abortion that way, and I have tried to be compassionate about why that seemed like a good option for you. But my compassion wasn't enough to bring the peace I have been wishing for. I ended up referring to you as the sperm donor, or by just using your name. 

By the way, I did a DNA test to confirm what we all guessed was true. My dad wondered about it when he noticed I looked more like you than I do him. It seems my mom always thought she knew. And from something my dad said you once remarked to him, maybe you believed it also: you are the contributor; the one who gave half of the DNA needed to create a human child who turned out to be me.

Since I learned about you more than twenty years ago, I think I have known (without admitting it until recently) that I need to forgive you. For my own sake, not for yours, because I'm guessing your life went on just as it would have if I had been killed or never existed in the first place. Sometimes I wonder if I need to forgive you for the things about me that I don't understand, or for the things that are wrong with me. Yet I believe self-awareness and responsibility are stronger than DNA, so is that really necessary?

When I get in dark places I wonder if it was inevitable that I find myself there, for I think you have often been in dark places. As far as I know, you only fathered one other child, a son who died a year or two ago by suicide. I was hoping to meet him someday, to see if we had anything in common, and I have often wondered if he could use a big sister like me; it's something I am good at. I don't know anything about the impact his death had on you. I just know it has brought a strange sadness to me that is hard to describe. I don't know how to grieve for someone I know nothing about. 

It's time for me to forgive you, for so many reasons. I need to forgive you because how could you have known that that time would make a baby? And how could you have known that offering to pay for an abortion would offend me? I have a father, one I would not trade for anyone, so your choice should not bother me. And just as I did not choose my DNA, you did not choose yours. You did not choose to be the child of an alcoholic father any more than I did. There is no good in dwelling on things I cannot control. 

The most important reason I need to forgive you is because of the love of our Savior. Jesus Christ made an offering for both of us, to heal us from all hurt if we are willing to let Him do it. I trust Him, His care, His perspective, and His power. I no longer want to let my heart live like His offering was not enough for me. It is enough for the entire human race, why did I think my part was bigger than that? 

I do forgive you. I am sorry that I held unkind feelings about you for so long. And I am sorry for lacking the faith it took to trust my Heavenly Parents for all the things that really matter. I am comforted in knowing that They are quick to forgive, because Their love for Their children is infinite, yet complete.

 I do wish good things for you. I hope you find that same peace I have been searching for.

Love Always, 

A Daughter

Quoting the Cute: Page Twenty-Three

 So. I haven't written for a very long time and my kids are growing up way too fast! Part of this is an old post that never got posted. Some of the quotes are already three years old!

When my oldest daughter (Kitty) was twelve, she said, "Everyone is afraid of walking skeletons even though we are ALL walking skeletons." When she was a year older, she started saying, "I'm dead inside." All the time. It was alarming to her parents and teachers, but she just thought it was funny. I remember being thirteen, so I think I get it. She is now almost fifteen. One day I was telling her that she is totally her father's daughter and she just said in a serious voice, "I should hope so." It made me laugh all day!

My youngest daughter (Honeybird) is eleven and still thinks it's cute to baby talk. I've been trying to convince her that it isn't, although I secretly have to admit that it is pretty cute sometimes! For awhile, it had rubbed off on to all of her siblings, even her older sister. Now that Kitty's at the high school, she has given it up, but I still have to remind her brothers how old they are all the time! When Honeybird was ten, she hit me in the face with a rubber band. I said, "Why would you do that?!?" And she said, "I didn't think it would hit you. I'm not that good of aim." Part of why this is so funny is because she's such a sweet kid, I know she didn't really WANT to hit me, but it sounds like she did because of how she said what she said!

My oldest son (King) always wants to be in charge, so if there is ever an opportunity to tell someone what to do, he is your man! He is almost ten now and one day this year when we were reading the Bible, he said, "I know what it means to commit adultery. It's when you blah, blah, blah when you're not married."

My youngest son (Fish) is now almost eight. When he was five, he used to always say, "I want suffing else." And a few times at that age, he would say something like, "I've been waiting for six thousand, ninety-eight days and you still haven't given me my birthday!" When he was six, we went for a hike where we met a small group of big horn sheep. Shortly down the trail, Fish slipped and fell in the mud. He was walking with his fingers curled and acting like he was so grossed out. I told him not to worry, that the mud would dry and just fall off. Then he said, "Yeah, but the problem is, 50% of it is big horn sheep poop!" Recently, he was asking me if he was hatched from an egg in my belly. I explained the best I could in the moment and told him that half of him came from his dad and half from me. Then he asked, "Was it the top half or the bottom half?" I still have a lot of explaining to do...

Quoting the Cute: Page Twenty-Two

My eleven-year-old daughter has grown up so much in this last year, it's a little alarming. One thing I am really enjoying about this change is that she's starting to laugh at my jokes.

At church, my eight-year-old daughter's teacher remarked at how smart their class was, so Honeybird answered, "it's cuz we're in second grade." It made the grown-ups laugh.

I asked my six-year-old if he was learning "America the Beautiful" for school, because he had been singing it from a paper. He responded, "Yes, we are going to sing it to the vegetarians."

I hesitate to share this quote, because it goes against a rule I made when I started this blog many years ago. Never say "poop." Or "poopy." But, it was so funny that night not long ago when our four-year-old spoke up what was on his mind at dinner: "Diarrhea is just poop that's all squished up."

I can't think of a quote for my eleven-year-old, so I'm going to tell her favorite joke: 

An elderly lawyer was about to die. One day he told his wife he had come up with a way to take all of the money he had with him to heaven. He told his wife to put all of his money in the attic so when he died he could grab it on the way up.
A couple of weeks after he died his wife was cleaning out the attic and saw that the money bags were still there. "That old fool," she chuckled. "I told him that we should have put the money in the basement!"

Last year my eight-year-old always started her school journal, "Oh, hello," which I think is so cute. Here is an entry from March 19, 2015: "Oh, hello, today I am EXSOSTED! Because yesterday I tripped and scraped my arm. My mom put burn spray on it. I did not like it and I was NOT happy!"

One day while I was napping and my husband was "watching" the kids, my youngest child drew some Easter drawings and then glued them to the dining room wall. When I noticed it the next day at dinner he said, "But you runned out of tape." It was so cute I couldn't be upset. A few weeks later we were talking about someday selling our house and my six-year-old son said, "We can't sell the house. There are pictures glued to the wall."

One morning I asked my four-year-old son if he wanted egg toast and he said, "Yes, but no egg." Now almost every day he tells me he wants his toast not to be toasted.

I found this quote on Pinterest that sums up how I feel right now: "Before we used to pass the time, but now the time is passing us." -Shushant Mojumdar

Quoting the Cute: Page Twenty-One

When my ten-year-old was maybe eight, she had a pair of toy handcuffs. They were equipped with a safety release feature just in case the keys got lost. She told us, "You can tell the people who made these really cared about people."

My seven-year-old is very quiet. In a house full of loud voices, her voice is not often heard. I have a hard time thinking of quotes for her!

My five-year-old still says "hadded" instead of "had." If he's still saying it when he finishes Kindergarten, I guess I'll have to start reminding him, but for now, I'm hanging on to the last bit of my big hunk's littlehood. 

Three-year-old: "Yes dem is!" or "See? I teld ya!"

Last year I couldn't help but giggle when my oldest daughter said something about the "pom pom trees" when we were in Southern Utah.

My seven-year-old loves to write. She especially loved it when she was in Kindergarten (see below). I'm always saving her papers because of the funny things she writes. I should dig some out and start posting my favorites!

I've quoted this with a different kid, but now it seems like my five-year-old's favorite thing to say is, "It's not fair!"

Three-year-old: "I want to watch a DDD!"

Ruelene

I don't remember exactly when Ruelene came into my life, but I know it was in my early teen years. I became friends with a sweet girl named Anna and even though I don't remember the first time I went to her house, I remember feeling loved when I was there.

Anna's family was tall. Anna and her sister had their mother's dark eyes and thick dark brown hair. Whenever I was in their home, I could feel the love in the air like a warmth that radiates from a crackling fire in the fireplace. Sure, there was teasing: Anna had five brothers after all, but I never felt contention, even when I was there all weekend. Ruelene used to make the most amazing taco salad in the biggest bowl I had ever seen in my life!

There was a program at school that focused on helping kids whose parents had not gone to college. I joined this group and Ruelene happened to be the counselor over it. She had an office at the high school and I used to stop in to see her. Whether I was visiting her because I was sad or happy, she always had a warm hug for me. Her voice was soothing and gentle. She shed tears with me over my sorrows and she laughed when I was excited about something. I still remember the sound of her laugh twenty years later.

She was diagnosed with leukemia not long before I graduated from a two-year college. The last time I saw her, she still sat tall and smiled happily as she told me about the hope she had. She was going to have a bone marrow transplant and believed it would save her life. Sadly, she only lived another two years but she never gave up her trust in God. She was only 54. Her daughters both got married and became mothers without their own mother to join in their joy on this earth.

Yet we know she rejoiced in Heaven, and it only seems fitting that she would give one of those warm hugs to each grandchild before their spirits were sent to her children's homes.

I will never forget the impact Ruelene had on my young and troubled growing heart. She will always stand tall among the great women in my life.

We are eternal. I can't wait to embrace Ruelene once again. I will thank her for what she taught me and we will stand side by side and survey the ripple effect her kindness had on the world.

Quoting the Cute: Page Twenty

Ten-year-old daughter: "What? Is falling against the law now?"

My seven-year-old daughter said a silent prayer over her lunch at school and her teacher told her, "I love that you are so sweet."

Five-year-old son at the grocery store: "Mom, I have five words for you: Mine wegs are tie-yerd!"

Three-year-old son watching fireworks: "That scared me out of my crap!"

When we took my oldest daughter to the zoo for the first time (I think she was four) she told me that her favorite animals at the zoo were the "scrumpions" and the fish with no eyes. I was surprised and amused.

We asked our kids if they were excited to go to the mountains to gather firewood. Our seven-year-old daughter said, "Yes! I can't wait to find turkeys and bears and snakes!"

One day my five-year-old stuck his head in the door of the bathroom and said, "Mom, we're all counting on you." Then he stuck his head in again two or three seconds later and said, "I mean, we're all waiting for you."

My husband was talking to me one night at dinner and said that now that our youngest is potty-trained, he wishes we could freeze them. Of course, this was confusing to my three-year-old so when I tried to explain he burst into tears, "But I don't want to stay a little boy forever!!!" Luckily I was able to calm him quickly, reassuring him that we have no power to stop time...and the fact we are getting old too fast proves it.

My ten-year-old daughter is really starting to use her sense of humor. The other day, I told her to get the lid for the butter and put it in the fridge. So she got the lid and put the lid in the fridge. I told her she wasn't funny, but I couldn't keep from laughing.

When my seven-year-old was a toddler, she used to call hummingbirds "honeybirds." She flutters with her hands when she is happy, and has done this since she was tiny. Because of these things, I call her Honeybird.

I asked my five-year-old son what he likes most about school and he told me he likes everything about school, but he likes recess the best. I hope this never changes!

My three-year-old son says "mont-sir" for "monster" and draws them like this:

Someone tell me how to freeze time!

If a Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

One late summer day, we took our four children into the mountains to gather firewood. We hadn't gathered firewood as a family in many years, so I planned to take the camera and take a few pictures. But because I planned to take it, I forgot it.

This reminds me of the first time I went to the zoo. I was an adult and I had never been to the zoo. My husband took me there before we had kids and I was so excited. But I forgot the camera. I still remember the "click" sound my husband made with his pretend camera as we walked around the park...

So as my children and I sat on a long, smooth log for a lunch break of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I noticed we were sitting tallest to shortest and wished I had my camera. I thought about how I wanted to remember that day, the way all of the children (ages three to ten) helped to carry firewood to the truck. And how cute my three-year-old boy looked bouncing on a young tree that had been bent to the ground by a fallen tree. I wanted to remember how excited we all were to see wild turkeys for the first time, and recall the simple joy of seeing a deer or a butterfly.

And then the thought came to me that I could write about it. I asked myself, "If a picture is worth a thousand words, does that mean a thousand words is worth a picture?" 

I want to remember how my husband and I agreed that baby cows are so cute and how strange that is since grown-up cows are not cute at all. I want to remember how my five-year-old son tried to convince his siblings that if we didn't lean away from the side of the vehicle closest to the drop-off over the side of the mountain road, then we would surely tumble over the edge. I want to remember how good it felt when  my husband and I worked as partners, without words, to remove the dead trees while the sound of the chain saw rang in our ears. The air was fresh except for those few whiffs of skunk, the day was cool enough to be able to work in our long sleeves without wilting, and the happy chatter of our kids was worth the hour-long drive to the gathering spot. As we bounced around in the truck on the rock-covered road, we started learning the words to "Away in a Manger" even though it is only August.

I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming gratitude for the chance to have a family and to share this world with such amazing little people. It was a good day. One for the photo albums!

Quoting the Cute: Page Nineteen

I haven't written for so long. I've been busy, but I do miss writing and sharing. The thing I am most sad about is that I haven't written very many "Quoting the Cute" posts! I will never get back all those funnies that have now been forgotten...

My three-year-old son went through a phase before he turned three where he was adding a "y" to the end of many of his words: booky, socky, cuppy, bean-baggy, hot-doggy.

My five-year-old son says "hice cream" instead of "ice cream," which is very endearing to me since that was what my dad called it when I was a kid (he had a sort of kid talk he'd use to get us excited about things).

My seven-year-old daughter has tattled on her five-year-old brother saying, "Mom, he said the S word!" I was actually relieved when I learned that the S word is stupid.

My ten-year-old daughter says smart things that I can never remember to write down. I do want to remember a cute thing she said a couple of years ago: "Mom, what are fox tails and why do I need to watch out for them? What will they do to me?"

My three-year-old usually omits the S sound if it comes at the beginning of a word, making cute phrases like, "I'm all ticky," or "I wan go whimming!"

My five-year-old told me one morning about a dream he had. In the dream he was running from something while trying to find me. I loved it when he said, "And I was running for mine wife (life)..."

My husband told my seven-year-old her first "grosser-than-gross" joke and this is what happened: "What's grosser than gross?" She thinks for a moment, "Hmmm...grossest!"

A few months ago, my ten-year-old was talking to her dad while he was concentrating on something else. "Dad?  Dad?  Dad? Dad?" etc. until he answered. By then she had forgotten what she was going to say so she then said, "Nevermind." Her three-year-old little brother heard the whole thing and must have been fascinated by the exchange because he did the same thing on purpose for a couple of weeks after that.

When my three-year-old was still two, he would respond with a sweet sing-songy "too!" whenever we told him we loved him. Later, he would say "Too, Dad" in his response to his dad's "I love yous." Now he says the full sentence and I can't believe how fast the time is going...

Ha! Ha! Halloween

Why was there no food left after the monsters' party?
Because everyone was a goblin.

Why did the fly fly?
Because the spider spied her.

Why didn't the skeleton cross the road?
Because he didn't have any guts.

Why do children yell "trick or treat" on Halloween?
Because it's too early to say "Merry Christmas."

Happy Easter

I love before and after pictures.  This one makes me laugh.  My friend's mother-in-law gave her this bunny and she almost trashed it.  Thankfully, she got the idea to paint it instead.  Now I wish I had an ugly bunny box to paint!

Quoting the Cute: Page Eighteen

Eight-year-old daughter as we walked home from a swimming party at the park:  "I am a little embarrassed.  I've never walked around in noodle straps before."

Five-year-old daughter as she said a morning prayer for the family:  "Please bless us to run fast if we see a lion or something."

Four-year-old son singing at the end of his favorite movie:  "Everybody's gone kung fu farting!" (followed by giggles)  

One-year-old son:  We've been doing early language lessons with him since he was only saying a handful of words at eighteen months.  The real reason why I've been doing this is not because I'm worried about his development, but because I knew he would think it was fun and I feel like he's been ignored too often since I have my hands so full with all of these children.  As an update (just for me, so I can remember), when we started doing this, he was only using these words: out, uh-oh, whee, Ma, go, tada, and hi.

After a spelling race of the word "Mississippi" with her sister, my eight-year-old told me it could also be spelled MRS. SIPPI, which I thought was very clever!

My five-year-old was eating an artichoke with me one day and when she peeled her way almost down to the heart, she held it up and excitedly said, "It looks like a squirrel nut!"  She meant acorn, but I don't think I'll ever see an acorn again without remembering her cute little voice saying this.

One day as we walked to meet his sister at the bus stop I asked my four-year-old if he could walk any faster.  So he started to run and I said, "That's much better," and then he said, "This is called running, Mom."

A couple of weeks ago, my baby started saying one or two new words every day.  These are a few that I can remember, but there are so many now, I can't keep track anymore:  sidewalk, wheeze (please), wink (drink), daddy (with silent d's in the middle), potty (with silent t's in the middle), shoes, no, I got it, cheese, and he even says his biggest sister's name.  He also makes this enthusiastic MMMM! sound when he's eating something he likes and it's so cute I get all giddy.

So, that is all for now, although I should start a new edition of posts called "Quoting the Brain-Cell Deficient Mom."

Dear Diary, I'm Sorry I Never Write in You Anymore

I used to write things like that in my diaries when I was a kid.  I think it's funny since the diary doesn't have feelings, but you, kind readers, do--so if anyone missed me terribly I do apologize.

In the gap of posts my life has been filled with a lot of home improvement projects, including me trying to figure out how to not be a slob.  I haven't had any success with that one.  But, hopefully I will have many before and after pictures to show you soon.  I have thirteen cans of paint I keep moving around the house and it is getting old.

See you soon?

I'm Wilting, WILTING!

The other day I was bored (why on earth I had time to be bored I have no idea), so I read through some of my old posts and came across a picture of my plants during much happier days.  I thought it was so funny, I gathered them up for an updated family picture so you could see how they have changed...

2010

2013

Maybe they would be doing better if I could remember to water them more than once a year?

Invasion

It has happened again.  Another battle lost, in spite of all of the reinforcements I sent down the hatch (Vitamin C, Zinc, Vitamin D3, and Ibuprofen).  There was nothing I could do.  They came out of no where: invisible invaders.

My soldiers are cold and shivering and no amount of blankets and hot water bottles can warm them.  They are hurt and suffering, just waiting for the light of day (when the walk-in clinic opens).

Strep throat.  I'll bet you a hundred bucks.

Lest I Forget

The other day I looked across the kitchen at my one-year-old and tried to take a mental picture.  I don't want to forget that moment, the way his cherubic head only stood a few inches above the table top, even though he was strapped into a booster chair.  His eyes were only half open because it was nap time and he had blackberry smoothie all over his face.

Motherhood has been a little overwhelming lately.  Probably because of all of the poop.  I know when I started this blog I said that I was not going to talk about poop, so I apologize if I caught you off guard.  Some days I just have to say to myself, "It will be okay.  This kid will be able to wipe without your help someday, and someday that kid will stop having accidents, and this baby will not be in diapers forever..."

Other days I'd give anything to freeze time, like the first time my first baby called from her crib, "MoOooommeeeee!  I wakin' up."  I heard it loud and clear over the baby monitor, even from my coma (the kind resulting from sleep deprivation).

Or the time my second baby, hardly a hair on her head, purposely made funny faces that had her paternal great-grandmother laughing so hard there were tears rolling down her face.  That baby gave quite a few people the joyful medicine only a good deep-gutted laugh can give.

Then there was the way my third baby used to always smile with his eyes closed and his hands reaching out front in a grabbing motion, like he was trying to tickle me from a distance.  I couldn't plant enough kisses on  his round chipmunk-like cheeks.  The dimple in the left side is like the chocolate syrup, toffee bits, and the cherry on top.

So I savor the sweet moments and endure the poopy ones, reminding myself daily how these bits of Heaven are my greatest treasures.

Some moments are perfect, and even though they are tiny in the eternal timeline, they are still big enough to hold all my love...






It turns out as I was writing this, my baby found a jar of jam on the table and began eating it in true Winnie-the-Pooh-with-a-honey-pot fashion.  I couldn't decide if I should grab a rag or the camera.  Then thinking of how much my mom would love a picture of my son loving on her jam, the camera won the debate.  The only problem is, it wouldn't wake up and take a picture, even with new batteries.  So I tried to use the still shot on my video camera, but they always turn out blurry.

See?

And then I realized this sums up my post perfectly.  Motherhood is sticky, sweet, broken, beautiful, and MESSY.

And I really do love it.

Quoting the Cute: Page Seventeen

My third-grader asked her dad to write her a math problem.  He's good at that:  he does it for a living!  He wrote an addition problem (something like "2754 + 3532 = ") and handed her the pencil to work the problem.  The first thing she did was add commas after the first digit in both numbers.  I had to chuckle because he is always the one to remember the details, especially in math.  The fact that she was correcting him was highly entertaining to me!

Four-year-old:  "Can I have a samwinch?"  (She starts kindergarten this year, so I guess it's time to teach her the proper way to say this word.  Sad face.)

One day as I was getting my three-year-old son out of the tub I said, "We need to hurry. Do you want to go to church naked?" His face lit up as he said in an excited voice, "YEAH!" and took off running.  (Silly mom. I should have known better than to ask him that!)

On my baby's first birthday he said his first words:  "Uh-oh."

Eight-year-old, with her nose in a book:  "I'm doing my chores, Mom!"  (When she was in first grade, we made her a chore chart.  Reading twenty minutes a day was on the list.  It still is, but she will read for hours if she can, so sometimes she has a hard time pulling herself away to get her other chores done.)

*...Just got back from a daydream where I did nothing but read a book all day.  My husband came home from work and the house was in shambles and the oven was cold, but when I told him I read a whole book he praised me for a job well done.*

I wish there was some way I could describe to you the way my four-year-old says "chicken."  I've been wanting to buy a digital recorder for these sorts of things, but have you seen how much those things cost?  For ten years I've been waiting for the price to go down, but it won't!

Sooooo, I tried to use my video camera to catch my daughter's "chicken," and then spent three hours trying to figure out how to get it here:

(Yes, I know the lens cap was closed.  Yes, I know I need to take a technology class or something.)

Three-year-old:  "Your butt is pretty, Mom."

My one-year-old has now added "moo, ow, and quack" to his repertoire.  Are you wondering if we live on a farm?

Have you caught a chicken today?

"Never, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Give Up. Never Give Up. Never Give Up. Never Give Up."

Maybe you have asked yourself whatever happened to that Amelia girl.  Probably not, but that's okay.  Life these days has had a way of ripping all of my plans out of my hands and stomping them into the mud after shredding them into little tiny bits.

BUT I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.

Like, remember how I tried to paint the boys' room?  It was so close once.  My best friend forever came and helped me paint it and it was beautiful for one day.  Then my two-year-old (who is now three) discovered something that shocked and horrified and confused me all at once.

So we've been peeling and sanding and picking for months now and I fear it will never be ready to be repainted.

BUT I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.

And I finally did try the couch to 5K thing.  On the first day of training I was only five feet from the end of my sprint when I landed on a rock the size of my baby's fist and almost fell down.  That evening I was sure my left foot was broken because I couldn't walk on it.  I spent the next morning crutching around the hospital, but it all turned out because it's not broken.  I get to wear this for another day or so and I won't be running for awhile.

BUT I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.  I'll start over with day one as soon as my foot has healed.  And next time I will run when it is light outside.  What was I thinking?  There are murderers and rapists and ROCKS out there.  Running alone in the dark is just not a good idea.

We got a tree the day after Thanksgiving and the day after that it was set up in the front room. I planned for us to have it all decorated the day after that, but after two weeks, it still looks like this:

BUT I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.

This tree is getting decorated today if I have to do it myself.

Quoting the Cute: Page Sixteen

"Ew!" (what my seven-year-old says when she sees her parents kissing).

I asked my four-year-old if she knew how to eat a cherry and she said, "Yup, you just pull out the pin and spit out the beads!"

My two-year-old loves to point to his baby brother and tell people who he is:  "Mine brudder!"  (No, we don't speak German at home.  Just English and Finnish.)

Seven-year-old:  "Today is the worst day of my life."  I have heard this more than once.

Four-year-old:  "Can I have gum?"  It seems like she asks this all the time!

Two-year-old:  He pronounces "cookie" like "hooky" and when he sings the Cookie Monster song, I laugh every time, especially at the last part...or when he says, "Hooky Monster likes hookies."

My friend gave my seven-year-old a cute a-line haircut and styled it for her (it had a nice round shape to it).  Instead of saying thank you when she saw it in the mirror, she said, "I look like an extra-terrestrial."

My four-year-old always says, "axe" instead of "ask."  I'm not ready to correct her mispronunciations because I'm not ready for her to grow up!

Two-year-old:  Every morning he says "Go-morninga, Mom."  During the day it's, "You funny, Mom," and at night it's always, "Go-nighta, Mom."

Nine-month-old:  This kid loves to sit and babble to himself.  He must have interesting stuff to say because he can entertain himself for hours!

When We're Helping, We're Happy

My Relief Society made jars full of service ideas and gave them to the women in our ward.  I haven't used it yet, but if I have a hard time thinking of a special service to do on Wednesdays, I plan to draw a paper from the jar and do it if I can!

So here they are.  The idea is to randomly choose one "service mission" for each week:

• Visit the elderly.
• Help a friend with housework.
• Smile at everyone you see this week.
• With your family or friends visit a nursing home.
• Do a secret act of service for every member of your family.
• Take cookies to a neighbor or a friend this week.
• Help an elderly widow with her shopping.
• Send a letter to a missionary.
• Show more patience with others this week.
• Mail an "I'm thinking of you" card to someone.
• Do something for your community this week.
• Bake something for someone.
• Secretly help someone with money or food.
• Only say nice things about others this week.
• Do something for a single parent in your neighborhood.
• Invite someone to your home for dinner.
• Invite a friend or neighbor to church.
• Take a rose to a woman who is struggling.
• Help tidy the chapel as you leave this week.
• Have a more positive attitude this week.
• Take a neighbor's can to the street on garbage day.
• Make dinner for a family in need.
• Volunteer at a local school this week.
• Read to a child.
• Get to know someone new in the neighborhood.
• Pray for someone.
• Show more love and compassion this week.
• Collect items for humanitarian aid.
• This week listen more and talk less.
• Give a mom (or a dad!) a break and babysit free of charge.
• Help a neighbor with yard work.
• Show more gratitude to others this week.
• Donate to your local library.
• Send a thank you card to someone.

There were some things in the jar that I didn't keep because they are things I feel I should already be doing everyday, things like opening doors for people, saying hello, and not gossiping.  However I am going to write this one for the world to put in their jar:  PUT YOUR SHOPPING CART AWAY.

There were also a few I left out because I do them when I can, like walking instead of driving places and donating to charities.  Also there are some in my jar that are specific to my church that I am trying to do (visiting teaching, sharing the Gospel, things like that).

There are 34 things on the list above.  I think it would be fun to think of 18 more and get it up to 52 for a year's worth.  Any ideas?

Here's what I've got:

• Give as many compliments as you can this week.
• Forgive someone or ask forgiveness of someone.
• Donate to a food bank.

I'll bet you have fifteen more in your little pinky, Cindy!  If so, please share.

Now I'm off to make lemon cakes because what could be nicer than that?

Quoting the Cute: Page Fifteen

Seven-year-old:  "Dad's never going to pay me for picking dandelions because you keep taking all of his money!"

One day my four-year-old told me she wanted snowflakes for breakfast.  It took me a moment to figure out that frosted flakes was what she wanted.

And my two-year-old son calls Rice Krispies "hippies."

My seven-year-old loves to tell jokes.  The part that always makes me laugh though is when she asks if we get it and we always say yes but then she explains the punchline anyway.

Four-year-old:  "I amn't!"  (Her big sister used to say this too when she was four!)

My kids (except the baby) went to stay with our friends overnight and for a day while we took a day trip for a job interview.  When we picked them up, my two-year-old was suddenly speaking in sentences.  I asked my friend if they gave him speech therapy while we were gone.

Sometimes it sounds like my seven-month-old baby is saying "Mama" and when he does I can't keep from kissing his soft little face.