Primary

I had the chance to make a card for a family who is leaving (an incredible family, who we will miss dearly) and so I thought I would share a piece of it with y'all. (In case you are wondering about my card-making skills, I used only ink. No glues of any kinds, which always cause weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth as wrong things are glued to wrong things and smeared on other wrong things.) Anyway, I thought this little portrait of our primary with fingerprints was kind of fun.

Silence is Sticky

There's a certain kind of silence that begins as enjoyable and becomes . . . ominous. And when you go to check on the silence, your bare feet step in something sticky. And Choose-Your-Own-Adventure time starts. Do you a) start looking for the source of the stickiness (go to page 56), b) keep looking for the Silent Ones (go to page 13), or c) decide that you don't really want to know about the Stickiness or the Silence, and go downstairs and let the adventure come to you (go to page 97)?

Obviously, you use the free gift of time to do chores (yay!) that you've been putting off--and when you're making the guest bed, you find both the Sticky Stuff--(a licked-clean can of sweetened condensed milk) and the Silent, Sticky Ones. You win!

Also, do you ever find that your children's little utterances are layered with nuance and deep meaning? For example, when your child states (with elegant simplicity), "I learned to turn the key in the lock today!" and you murmur, "um-hmm, good for you!" You are missing the layers and layers of meaning in that little phrase, a fact that becomes overwhelmingly obvious when you realize that this same lovely child is wearing your antique hat from your {locked} bedroom, carrying around your purse, and making purchases on the Internet.

Sweet Nothings

My little white-haired hurricane was sitting on my lap, giving me a funny-faced smile. Looking at her, I couldn't help doing a little (bad) ventriloquism. "I'm a little gnome," said I. She looked at me with her big blue eyes, and very sweetly and seriously broke into song (a la Michael McLean), "You're not a gnome." (Sing it. It's much funnier that way!)

Another young lady had an interesting talk with her dad about trees. He was talking about sin or bad habits or something like that and she was . . . not. He compared sin to a seed (like she had just planted in the garden) and how easy it is to pull out the seedlings when they were young. "Imagine you had planted a tree," said my good husband (and this of course, is where the conversation went terribly wrong.) "Wouldn't it be easier to pull it out when it was young and new?"
"WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO UPROOT A TREE? Trees are GOOD!"
"Wait--I understand!" said the savant, "We should plant the seed in our hearts and keep it there. Because seeds grow trees and trees are GOOD."
Seeing that they were at cross-purposes, my husband retreated from his analogy and no seeds of any kind were planted at this time.


Kristin's Laws of Order:

1. Bedrooms must be picked up before everyone goes to sleep. If everything is not picked up, someone will get sick during the night and vomit over EVERY LAST THING on the floor.

2. If you assign someone to clean the living room, the only thing that they will be certain to move is the book that you left on the couch. You may never see it again.

Notes from Sunday

I have been attending sacrament meeting all of my life, but it wasn't until I came to Prague that I realized I have been taking a few things for granted. For example: the ability to listen to the speakers with one ear and still keep my children (somewhat) in line. We do have the option of using headsets, where everything is translated into English. However, I have found them very impractical--either someone sitting on my lap is ripping the earphones off, I drop them when gathering a small person out of the next row, or while listening raptly, I miss the airplane-throwing going on next to me. In other words--a distinct lack of reverence ensues in our general vicinity.

So, for the last several months I have gone without headphones. I catch what little I can (hoping that I will later get a general summary from my husband.) And something marvelous happened yesterday. I UNDERSTOOD the sacrament prayer. And I UNDERSTOOD one of the talks! (It was the talk when I WASN'T holding Vilate. But I even understood a good portion of that one!) It was a small, wonderful miracle. Happy day!

"This will pretty much make your wildest dreams come true."

Napoleon Dynamite goes on a mission. Frickin' awesome.

Two brothers

Two brothers. One date. One born--one died.

To the one who lives, God bless you. Your steadfastness in pressing forward, engaging in a good work is an inspiration. You have in your life: badgered me, annoyed me, praised me, allowed me to wear your t-shirts (a great privilege, I know), pushed my buttons, and tried to make me into a better person (etcetera, etcetera, and so forth). In watching you, I have seen what it is to be never-wavering, to be patient, and to persevere despite overwhelming odds. I love you more than I can possibly express.

To the one who died, God bless us all. The hole left in our hearts and lives through your absence, though softened by time, is a reminder that this life is short, and we are all in the hands of the Master. It is a reminder that Jesus Christ is a master craftsman who specializes in mending broken hearts. It is a reminder that because of and through His atonement, all good things are possible. Like one day, putting our arms around each other again. I miss you, but I am grateful for the sometimes still-sharp edges of the hole you left. It makes me remember what is important and what is not. I love you, little brother.

We shared dinner with the missionaries today (pork carnitas and Mexican rice, in case you were wondering. Delicious? So I'm told. I spent most of dinner feeding the three-month old, so I don't know from personal experience.)

One of the missionaries in a moment of "fun" called me Mom. It's official. I'm old.