Lemony Thoughts

Is that really my God? - part III

2008-03-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

Ok, now on to better documented books with actual historically verifiable sources. I haven't read all of Howard Zinn's "A People's History of the United States," but what I have read has impacted my life more than I ever thought possible. The first page is very powerful:

Arawak men and women, naked, tawny, and full of wonder, emerged from their villages onto the island's beaches and swam out to get a closer look at their strange big boat. When Columbus and his sailors came ashore, carrying swords, speaking oddly, the Arawaks ran to greet them, brought them food, water, gifts. He later wrote of this in his log:

They...brought us parrots and balls of cotton and spears and many other things, which they exchanged for the glass beads and hawks's bells. They willingly traded everything they owned...They were well-built, with good bodies and handsome features...They do not bear arms, and do not know them, for I showed them a sword, they took by the edge and cut themselves out of ignorance. They have no iron. Their spears are made out of cane...They would make fine servants...With fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we want.

Now, this last thought wasn't just an intellectual realization. Like when you realize you are a parent of a trusting child and really could do whatever you wanted but don't because you know that would be wrong on so many levels. Oh no. He acted on those thoughts:

As soon as I arrived in the Indies, on the first Islands which I found, I took some of the natives by force in order that they might learn and might give me information of whatever there is in these parts. And, as Zinn points out, what he wanted to know was where was the gold. He knew they had gold because he thought he was in Asia where they knew there was gold, and also for the "tiny gold ornaments in their ears." He took the prisoners hoping to force them to tell him where the gold was. Unfortunately for them, most of the gold were little bits in rivers, which gave Columbus the impression that Asia (Cuba) and China (Hispaniola) were overflowing with gold. He fictitiously reported back to Spain:

Hispaniola is a miracle Mountains and hills, plains and pastures, are both fertile and beautiful...the harbors are unbelievable good and there are many wide rivers of which the majority contain gold...There are many spices, and great mines of gold and other metals...

And also reported that the Indians:

Are so naive and so free with their possessions that no one who has not witnessed them would believe it. When you ask for something they have, they never say no. To the contrary, they offer to share with anyone.

He also asked the Queen for a little more help and he would send "as much gold as they needed ....and as many slaves as they ask" for on his next journey home. "Thus" he wrote, "the eternal God, our Lord, gives victory to those who follow His way over apparent impossibilities."

To make a long, horrible story short, half of the 250,000 Arawaks died due to murder, mutilation, or suicide. Hands were cut off when gold was not found to frighten others into finding it (how can they find something that does not exist there?!) and ferocious dogs were used to help keep them in line. By 1515 there were around 50,000 Arawaks, and by 1550 there were 500. By 1650 there were none left. Their lives were so bad that they eventually stopped procreating because the men and women were so "depressed and exhausted. [N]ewborns died because their mothers had no milk...Some mothers even drowned their babies from sheer desperation."

As a mother who dearly loves her children and who would do anything in my power to keep them safe, I can't even imagine the horrible lives these women had to live to lead them to kill their babies to protect them so they didn't have to live in such horrible cruelty.

Now, I know that Columbus lived in a time when slavery was accepted and thought to have God's stamp of approval, but if my God is really a just and loving God, an omnipotent, omniscient, LOVING God, then wouldn't He be a bit more ahead of the times and find someone who did not believe in slavery to "find" His Chosen nation? Do I really believe in a God who would not only allow for this to happen but plan it? Isn't my God supposed to agree with the Articles of Faith His church professes to believe and only only punish each man for his own transgression and not for "Adam's" or for their fathers?

Happy Columbus Day.

What I hate about dreams

2008-03-09T07:54:00.000-07:00

When the heater has dried out your nose and you can't breathe and you spend your whole dream trying to blow your nose so you can and nothing works.

When you have to go to the bathroom and you spend your whole dream trying to go to the bathroom and, again, nothing works.

When you have to go to the bathroom and you spend your whole dream trying go to the bathroom and you succeed, only to find that you wish you hadn't.

(fortunately, with the last one, I don't ever remember having succeeded)

Conversations with a 5-year old

2008-03-08T10:24:00.000-08:00

Me: Do you remember when we were talking about the silent "e" at the end of a word? Well, the "t" in "listen" is also a silent letter.

Him: Oh, you mean it's just supposed to shut-up and not say anything?

Me giggling: Uh, yah, it's just supposed to shut-up and not say anything.

S & M (ha) wielding the toys they've turned into swords and shields and running around the house

S: I'm the king of the world!

M: Me! King! Too!

S: Yah!

M: Yah!

Me: All right, you finished your homework. Good job, sweetie!

Him: Mama, I want to do more homework.

Me: Well, sweetie, we don't have any more right now, and it's actually time to get ready for bed. I promise we'll do more tomorrow.

Him getting grumpy: I want to do more homework right now!

Me thinking: This can't be my kid

Is that really my God? - part II

2008-03-02T21:00:00.000-08:00

I believed my whole life that Columbus was a good and righteous man led by God to America so God's righteous people could again inhabit the land. I believed that "we" were sent here by God not only to obtain God's chosen nation, but to help the Lamanites change their "wicked" ways and know God again. I believed that God had cursed the Lamanites and that after the Pilgrims came here, so many died of disease because He wanted them humbled so they would see the error of their ways. I believed that the Pilgrims were right in obtaining the land that they did and that it would help the "Indians" to humble themselves.

The following found in the Book of Mormon support the "righteousness" of Columbus and the Pilgrims

Here is 1 Nephi 13:10-16

10 And it came to pass that I looked and beheld many waters; and they divided the Gentiles from the seed of my brethren.
11 And it came to pass that the angel said unto me: Behold the wrath of God is upon the seed of thy brethren.
12 And I looked and beheld a man among the Gentiles, who was separated from the seed of my brethren by the many waters; and I beheld the Spirit of God, that it came down and awrought upon the man; and he went forth upon the many waters, even unto the seed of my brethren, who were in the promised land.
13 And it came to pass that I beheld the Spirit of God, that it wrought upon other Gentiles; and they went forth out of captivity, upon the many waters.
14 And it came to pass that I beheld many amultitudes of the Gentiles upon the bland of promise; and I beheld the wrath of God, that it was upon the seed of my brethren; and they were cscattered before the Gentiles and were smitten.
15 And I beheld the Spirit of the Lord, that it was upon the Gentiles, and they did prosper and aobtain the bland for their inheritance; and I beheld that they were white, and exceedingly fair and cbeautiful, like unto my people before they were dslain.
16 And it came to pass that I, Nephi, beheld that the Gentiles who had gone forth out of captivity did humble themselves before the Lord; and the power of the Lord was with them.

So, you see, it was all supposed to happen. God knew it would happen and planned it that way and wanted it to happen. It's ok that they knowingly gave the Native Americans blankets with small pox on them because they were righteous and it was God's plan. It's ok that the Native Americans were kicked off of their land and weren't given back land they were promised because it was all part of God's righteous plan to humble them and bring them unto Him.

And the "Gentiles" (Pilgrims) who were in "captivity" and were "wrought" by the Spirit to come here? I was always taught that all they wanted was religious freedom. They wanted to be free to be righteous people and live in a land where everyone could be free to live as they chose. Freedom is what it's all about, baby. Well, sort of. I'll write more about this as soon as I find the source again, but I have learned that it wasn't all about letting everyone decide how they each wanted to live. Those who came here were building God's kingdom and that couldn't be done very well if there wasn't complete unity. There was actually little tolerance for religious nonconformity in early colonial America. That's not the same colonial America I grew up believing in. So, what else is new?

Is that really my God? - part I

2008-02-24T07:34:00.000-08:00

I have been working on this for awhile and decided to post what I have or else I will never post it.

In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue. He was determined, faithful, and righteous. He was led by the Spirit of God in his desire to sail the oceans and to gain wisdom and knowledge. He was led by God to the Americas so that His blessed children could live in a blessed nation, one he created just for them, the righteous. Columbus had to go before the king and queen of Spain, who turned him down at first, but were then moved (by his effervescent righteousness and the Spirit. - unknowingly of course. They were evil Gentiles who couldn't understand God, you know). Columbus was so righteous he was chosen before coming to this earth and he fulfilled his mission, and then His righteous people sailed across the ocean to His blessed land. Just read about it in the Book of Mormon.

These are the things I learned about Columbus through school and church. I celebrated Columbus day, subconsciously smugly, knowing that I had been righteous enough to be born in His chosen nation in His chosen true church. Those poor people who were not. They could not celebrate the same freedoms and blessings I did. Well, if they lived righteously enough, God would bless them. (man was I subconsciously a judgmental jerk).

Then I took my American Society sociology class and that change my life forever. My professor has a famous (at least in the sociology department where I went to school) Columbus lecture that just blows you away. I had sort of already given myself permission to question the church (I made that decision in the temple, but that's another story for another time) and start looking for answers, but hadn't really taken many steps on my own yet. By the end of the lecture I thought to myself, “is this really my God? Do I really believe in a God that would do that? Or call a man righteous who would do that? Or lead him and other here knowing they would do those things? Would he really punish the "Lamanites," as he said he would, for their fathers sins? No, that is not my God.” It was liberating and frightening.

Here is the complete 1492 poem:

IN 1492

In fourteen hundred ninety-two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

He had three ships and left from Spain;
He sailed through sunshine, wind and rain.

He sailed by night; he sailed by day;
He used the stars to find his way.

A compass also helped him know
How to find the way to go.

Ninety sailors were on board;
Some men worked while others snored.

Then the workers went to sleep;
And others watched the ocean deep.

Day after day they looked for land;
They dreamed of trees and rocks and sand.

October 12 their dream came true,
You never saw a happier crew!

"Indians! Indians!" Columbus cried;
His heart was filled with joyful pride.

But "India" the land was not;
It was the Bahamas, and it was hot.

The Arakawa natives were very nice;
They gave the sailors food and spice.

Columbus sailed on to find some gold
To bring back home, as he'd been told.

He made the trip again and again,
Trading gold to bring to Spain.

The first American? No, not quite.
But Columbus was brave, and he was bright.

And you give yourself away

2008-01-22T05:30:00.000-08:00

I had a very disturbing dream this morning that I had to write down and, since it was written down, I thought I would post it. I recognize that some parts of my dream as so wacky that, if other parts weren't so painful, I would most certainly be laughing. Please feel free to laugh, cry, or just shake your head in pity at my weirdness.

It starts out with me dreaming that I am having a dream. I am inside a building without my family but with many other people. I start to feel a sense of foreboding and fear and so I start to look around me to see what is wrong. When I see what is wrong the fear inside of my chest begins to squeeze around my heart. There are at least three very large, angry black and brown bears loose in the building attacking people. I panic and start running for the other side of the room and crouch down next to the wall. In my dream, my view pans out and I see my purse sitting on the floor, forgotten, and I see myself crouching on the floor, along with many others, and hoping that if I stay still that the bear will leave me alone. He does not and I know things do not end well for me.

Next in my dream I am in a class room in the same building, getting ready to take a test, and the professor is showing us something on the overhead. I am unable to sit and listen well because of the dream I had and that I didn't have a pencil with me. I decide to stay after the class to get some one-on-one information with my professor and find that he is dancing Tae Kwon Do moves and tells me to do them with him or I will fail the class. I am embarrassed and hesitant because I have no idea how to dance, but I know that my professor knows that once I start dancing my body will know what to do. So, I take off my shoes and slowly begin dancing Tae Kown Do as well. Our bodies soon begin to synchronize and I suddenly seem to know things I hadn't known before. I had some sort of new connection to the universe. I knew my professor was in love with me and I saw that he wanted to touch his forehead to mine and tell me so; I knew that I didn't love him and if I professed such that I would ruin his life as well as mine; I knew that there was another professor who had attended the class, who was also now hiding behind some chairs and watching us, specifically to be able to dance with him as I was dancing with him because she was in love with him and he didn't know it. She was angry with me for taking her place and vowed to get back at me. I started feeling afraid again. I knew she had the power to fail me and make my life miserable and that she was figuring out at that moment how to hurt me as I had hurt her.

My professor's next class was starting to begin so I sat down to listen, but was too distracted by the vengeful female professor to comprehend what was being said. I decided that if I quietly left
everything would be ok. I would show the female professor that she had won and the two of them would be very happy together and she'd stop plotting my demise. As I walk through the halls I see many students finishing up their finals or who have finished and are getting ready to take the results to the office. The building now has that end-of-semester feel to it and I know everyone is excited to be done.

I reach the front of the building and grab on to my youngest son's hand and tell my oldest son to follow me to the car. There are a lot of people surrounding us, many of them young children, and I look for my oldest son to make sure he's following me. I don't see him, but I know he is near. That's when I see the bears and know that my dream and been a premonition. I yell at my oldest to follow me to the wall and tell him to stand perfectly still. There are other adults standing around telling the kids to hold still and to let the bears sniff them. For some reason the bears are not hurting these adults who are not crouching or standing still by the wall, but I also know that their safety is not assured either. I am crouching there, holding M's hand and picturing where S is standing and I know that the bear has passed him. He is nibbling on the hair of a young toddler who is asking an adult why the bear is nibbling on his hair. The adult tells the child to let the bear nibble and promises that he if does so he will be safe and will move on. Somehow I know the adult is telling the truth.

The bear then moves to the next three kids and sniffs them as well. The bear stops in front of M and me and I suddenly saw the dream sequence happen all over in my and had a running commentary on what he would do next. This is when he will move my hair (he does), this is when he will start to move on to the next person (again, he does), this is when he will stop and decide to gnaw at me. For some reason this part differs from my original dream. He does not eat me and moves on to the next person.

I wait until I think the bear is distracted enough and I grab my kids' hands and run them out to the car as fast as I can. The car is unlocked and I put them in it. For some reason I have 3 other kids with me, but I didn't recognize them as mine. I just knew I was supposed to have them with me. Then I realized that I didn't have my keys or purse and that I needed to go back and get them or else we wouldn't be able to get home. I tell my oldest to sit and wait in the car until I got back, not to talk to anyone, and to not be afraid, I would be back as soon as I could.

I ran back to the building praying that the kids would be ok. When I got back to the building I looked down and saw my purse. That's when I remember the rest of my dream. I see the bear trying to attack me again and me hitting him with my purse. I pick up my purse and keys and prepare for the bear to turn around and notice me, which he does. He starts running toward me and the battle ensues. It takes awhile but I fend the bear off. I don't remember if someone eventually takes the bear away or if it runs away, but I do know that I was alive and the bear was gone. Then it hit me. It's been over an hour and the kids are waiting in the car. I start to hyperventilate and freak out. "Please!" I yell to one of the men nearby, "Please, go out and make sure my kids are ok!" I know something is wrong. It's hot out, the car was unlocked. Maybe they got out and were hit by cars, maybe someone kidnapped them, maybe they died in the car because of the heat. My heart cries out for them and I run to the car.

They are no longer there. I run, crying out their names. I know they are not in the parking lot so I start running toward town, feeling the empty ache of not knowing where my precious boys are. I run into one of the other bears and it attacks me as well. I hit the honey-covered bear with my purse and it looks at me confused. I just hit it with a pillow. I know it's futile to fend the bear with a pillow but I am angry and aching and want to live to hopefully find my kids. I eventually start to run and the bear tries to stop me by pulling on my legs. The side of the road turns into the top of an arcade game and I try to climb over it. The bear almost succeeds in pulling me down but I slide down between back of the arcade game and two fake games. I open up the front of one of the games and pull out my children's fake plastic swords and hold onto them, wishing I could be holding my children but only feeling the empty ache of fear, loss and not knowing if I'll ever see them again. I start to sing parts of U2's With or Without You (for some reason in my dream I only hear this part of the the song and not the whole thing.

And I wait without you.
With or without you.
With or without you.

And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

My dream starts to pan out as I hear Bono singing the last phrases over and over again and I see myself sitting on the ground holding their swords, wondering if I will ever be able to hold my babies in my arms again.

I finally woke up and knew that I wouldn't be going back to sleep. I went downstairs to go check on the kids and touch their sweet faces, hoping that the ache I feel in my chest would lighten. It did not. I decided to write out my dream, hoping that seeing the words would help. It has not. I know that the ache will eventually lessen throughout the day, as it has in the past when I have had nightmares about my kids. It's at times like these, when the line between dream and reality are so blurred and the pain so real. that I feel I can understand, to a small degree, the pain others feel at having truly lost their children. To any of those parents who may be reading this, please know that I am so truly sorry for your loss and your pain. My heart goes out to you, today and always.

Perfect New Year's Eve

2007-12-31T21:29:00.000-08:00

8 years ago today, Gluby asked me to marry him. It was a cold, foggy evening on a bridge in the middle of the city in which we lived. He asked me if I could make one wish what would it be. Now, we both knew what I wanted (for him to ask me to marry him), but every time I had tried to bring it up he changed the topic of conversation, so I said a few generic answers. He said, "No, what would you really wish for?" I said, "You know what I would wish." And the next thing I knew I was looking at Gluby kneeling on the cold, snowy bridge asking me if I would marry him.

In my head I said shrieking, "This is it!! This is the moment I have been waiting for all of my life!!! He's asking me to marry him!! This is it!!!!! This is it!!!! Holy cow, no way! No Way!! This is it!!" Then he said, "Well?" (I guess he hadn't heard the conversation going on in my head and the excitement exploding in my body) I giddily replied YES!, threw out my arms, and gave him a huge hug. After we hugged a kissed he asked, "Do you want to try on the ring?" I said, "What ring?" He said, "The ring in your hand." "Ring in my hand?" I looked down to find he had placed the ring in my hand when he asked me to marry him, but my hands were so cold I couldn't feel it. We got lucky that I hadn't tossed it into the river when I threw my hands around to hug him. Anyway, he put it on and it fit perfectly. I was completely and utterly surprised and it was a beautiful evening.

Tonight we celebrated the New Year by "chinging" glasses full of sparkling apple juice with our kids while eating chocolate chip cookies and frozen yogurt. I read a few books to the kids and listened to them playing with each other and giggling up a storm while they wait for Gluby to give them their nightly tea. I would definitely rate this as another one of my perfect New Year's Eves: listening to my 2 1/2 yr old saying "pink bunny" as his older brother reads him a book, having my 5 1/2 yr old gently rub his back and say "good job, baby!" as his little brother points to another object and says "yellow bee," and hearing the boys giggle as Papa tickles them while tucking them in. What better evening could there be?

Happy New Year to everyone! I hope your winter celebrations have been joyful and renewing. I have been thinking about you all and hope all is well, even if I am mostly lurking. :)

Happy Bloggiversary to me

2007-12-09T11:28:00.000-08:00

A lot has changed in the last year since I started blogging. Many of those changes I never would have imagined happening, but I am happier than I have been in years, so those changes have been a good thing.

I haven't been writing as much of the last month because my real life got very busy (in a good way). I have been inspired by Liseysmom (scroll down to Oct. 27th - GO LM!!) to improve my physical self and I finally started exercising again. I knew if I had a *goal, though, that I would do well until I reached it and then I'd quit, so I didn't start until I was ready for a life change. A couple of months ago I was finally ready and I started walking .6 miles every day. Then I started walking 1.2 miles after a couple of weeks. 3-4 weeks ago I started jogging: .4 miles, then .6 miles, and now .8. I am increasing slowly because I know I'll burn out if I jump in too quickly. I have only missed three days of walking/jogging in the past two months and am happy that I have started to enjoy it (you gotta love CA weather - running in a T-shirt in December).

I have reached the point where I want to spend less time looking at what I don't believe in and start looking for things to believe in. Gluby and I are almost done with Bertrand Russell's "Conquest of Happiness" (I learned so much about myself reading that book), we have been listening to Carl Sagan's "Demon Haunted World" (loooove it), reading/listening to Michael Parenti (lots of stuff by him, love it all), and watching movies (some to broaden our minds and others to turn them into vegetables). I have even started crocheting again (though I usually only spend about 10 minutes a day doing it so I don't get sick of it.)

So, to those who may remember me and wonder where I am and how I am doing, there you go. :) I haven't fallen off the face of the earth (yet) and things are going really well. In fact, I am enjoying CA more than I thought I would. I feel like I am finally starting to live my life again. Feel the love for others that intellectually I knew was there, hiding under the pain, fear, numbness, and fragility that was me for so many years. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this roller coaster ride that I have thus far called my life. Here's to many more years for all of us. *Clink*

*What I meant to say was weight or event goal. When I reach my goal I find that I am then over tired and unmotivated. So this time my goal is to exercise 4-6 times a week.

Button, button, who pushed the button

2007-11-04T12:39:00.000-08:00

I swear I don't do this just to push Gluby's buttons. Really. I don't. *Ahem.*

This morning, while in the shower, I started singing, "Jingle Bells," "12 Days of Christmas," O Christmas Tree," etc. This drives Gluby nuts for two reasons. 1) Songs get stuck in his head very easily and take weeks to get them out (one song he had in there for a year or more. He had "I'm a Little Tea Pot" in there for so long he wrote 4 part harmony for it). 2) He is not big on Christmas (to say the least), especially before Thanskgiving.

So he may roll his eyes a bit when I start singing these Christmas songs so early in November (or when I sing them in March. Or June. Or August.), or start singing "Like a Virgin" over my singing so as not to hear me. Especially when "O Christmas Tree" has specifically four words: O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, la la la la la la la. O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, la la la la la la la. La la la la, la la la la. La la la la la la la la. O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, la la la la la la la. (I just don't get it. Can anyone tell my why he would not like me singing this over, and over, and over again?!)

I am not, I repeat, I am not singing these songs just to push buttons. And I vehemently deny any accusations even implying I would do such a thing.

Do I protest too much?

Ok, ok, here's a real post

2007-10-26T12:28:00.000-07:00

I'm working on a Christopher Columbus post (which I have been thinking about writing for almost a year) and also on the next "portion" of my "exit" story, so hopefully you all will have some long boring posts to read soon.

Last week, before all of the fires, we let our cats out to go get some sun. After about 10 minutes I noticed that they had come back in and that one of them was staring intently at the ground. I have grown up with cats and I knew that look. I tried to figure out what the cat had brought in and where it was. I finally saw it lying at the cat's feet, on the carpet, almost covered up by our bedspread. A lizard.

Now, I grew up with pet lizards and rats, so it didn't freak me out, but I wondered if it was still alive and in agony. I got Gluby's attention, and of course the boys' attention as well, and we tried to find something to touch it with. As we were talking about it's hit point status and looking for it's "life bar," the cat was periodically checking as well by pushing it with her paw. Suddenly the lizard took off and ran underneath the bedspread over by the top of the bed and our dresser. We all sprang into action. The cats tried to stick their noses under the bedspread (it's a king size spread on a queen mattress, so it covers the floor a bit) while Gluby tried looking behind the dresser. I ran down the stairs to go look for a glass jar and a lid and the boys climbed on the bed to see what they could see. (Now I'm singing "The Bear Went Over the Mountain")

After climbing the stairs two at a time I helped Gluby move the dresser and push the cats out of the way. I saw the lizard nestled under the lamp and alarm clock cords, so Gluby got his Marine sword to see if he could nudge it toward me and into the jar. It didn't move the first few times and then took off toward me. I wasn't prepared for its movement, even though I had been kneeling for about 4 minutes with the mouth of the jar ready where I hoped the lizard would run, so I yelped and jumped away as he ran back under the bedspread right past me. I turned around and saw it hidden just a few inches away. I bent down and put the mouth of the jar at his head and pushed his tail with the lid. He ran in and I quickly put the lid on top.

This whole time the boys were jumping around trying to see and to help. They were of course fascinated by the lizard and ogled at it for a few minutes until we took it back outside to let it go. Talk about excitement for the day. And Gluby looooved my yelp, by the way, and giggled, I mean chortled, over it the rest of the day.

Snarkiness

2007-10-25T12:03:00.000-07:00

Hi!

Not everything is dire, right?

2007-10-08T19:35:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm not always dire, though Gluby might say otherwise (insert smiley here), so I thought I would write a post about something that isn't dire. Or about poop.

Hm, what does it say about me that I have been mulling over this post for 10 minutes with nothing to say? Maybe I do need life to be dire to post.

Let's see. One of my sister's came to visit me yesterday and we had a nice day sitting and chatting and letting our kids run amok*. We did talk a bit about church stuff, but I'll leave the details out for the sake of privacy. It was really, really nice to see her, though, and I'm glad the visit went as well as it did.

We are getting used to CA, the cold nights and hot days of the desert (hm, now I want dessert), and the yummy multicultural foods surrounding us. Mmmm. Now my mouth is watering for barberry ric e.

I love the new place we live in and the fact that I don't worry about running into old ward members at the grocery store or post office. I love that my relationship with Gluby is mending after everything that has happened in the last 5 years. I love the comfort and security I feel when I listen to and watch the waves crash and wash up on the beach. I love the moments when I can mourn my losses and appreciate what I have gained in return.

I have lost who I was, who I thought I was, and who I thought I would be. I have lost my expectations of a Good Mormon Family and the Celestial Kingdom (yah, like I was ever really going to get there even if it did exist). I have lost the support of a community I have known all of my life and expected to always be a part of. I have lost the relationships I used to have with my family.

(ok, now this post is looking too much like the other one - on to the better part)

I love the sense of responsibility I have gained over the last year. If there isn't a God above to take care of the homeless, the hurt, the helpless then I must step up and do something. It hits me a lot harder when I hear of wrongs committed against others or those who have suffered terribly because I don't know "with a surety" that there is a God above who will help these people in the next life.

There is a part of my heart that I am just starting to feel. It is the part of me that is starting to feel sure of things I believe in and have conviction of. It's exciting to realize I have this within me and makes me hopeful that I won't always be this slobbering mess. (Ok, I just had visions of a hairy hump-backed monster drooling and dragging one of it's feet behind it)

I guess I just wanted to say that there is another part of me that I don't always share and it is one that has moments happiness and silliness and pure laughter. Thank you to everyone out in the DAMU who have helped me on this journey. I hope there will be plenty more laughs to share with you all.

*I decided to check the dictionary to make sure this is the word I wanted to use and the first definition of amok is this:1.(among members of certain Southeast Asian cultures) a psychic disturbance characterized by depression followed by a manic urge to murder. I couldn't help but laugh as this was so not what I meant.

I miss

2007-10-02T23:19:00.000-07:00

I miss the connection I used to have with my family.

I miss feeling like I could be myself around them.

I miss the highs that came from "feeling" "The Spirit."

I miss feeling hopeful.

I miss community.

I miss "Knowing"

I miss feeling like I have direction in my life.

I miss feeling happy and full inside

I miss "knowing" that there is a God who loves me and knows who I am and watches out for me.

I do not miss always feeling unworthy and so utterly far from being who God wanted me to be that I would never make it to the Celestial Kingdom.

I do not miss feeling guilty for being a human being with sexual desires

I do not miss feeling like I always have to be a role instead of just being who I am: mother, wife, visiting teacher, primary teacher, member missionary, former full-time missionary (so I must be good at missionary opportunities, right?)

I do not miss feeling guilty for not being perfect: did I miss a missionary opportunity? did I just commit a little sin and lose The Spirit so now I won't be guided in my life? Did I do enough? I get angry, I get depressed, I lash out. If I had just studied the scriptures more or prayed more I wouldn't have re/acted that way.

I do not miss feeling the pressure to read and study "the scriptures" every day, go to the temple, go visiting teaching, have one year supply of everything, go to the cannery, genealogy, have a garden, read the Ensign, listen to GC/stake conference, feel eternally fulfilled by folding laundry and making dinner, prepare a spiritual FHE so my kids won't leave the church and forever damn my family, look happy all the time so others can see how happy we are and join the church because they'll be happy and fulfilled too.

I do not miss being afraid that I'll read, hear, or watch something that will make me "lose my testimony."

I do not miss being afraid that Satan is out to get my soul and the souls of my family.

I'll probably add more to this list as I think of them. It's kinda late and it's been a hard day.

What kind of shake?!

2007-09-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

Warning - this post is about bowel movements (no, not mine!). Keep reading at your own volition (Thanks for the great word, Sid!)

I was reading someone's blog this last weekend, (Thanks LM and Exvestigator!! ) and found a couple of posts about their DD not being able to go to the bathroom for a couple of days due to a camping trip (8/27 and 9/09 were the posting dates). After having been home for a time it became apparent that the child needed to go to the ER to help her out. Everything came out all right in the end, (sorry, I just had to do it) but it reminded me of the 6 months or so that we struggled with our oldest child.

He had a bowel movement (BM) that was large enough to make him tear and bleed a bit. I figured he'd heal up and be fine, but over the course of the next couple of weeks it kept tearing a little and bleeding. And, of course, hurting. Eventually he started to get scared to go and he went 4 days without going. I called the dr. and they said to go get children's suppositories. By the time I got back from the store he had gone, but he had been rolling on the bed and screaming because his abdomen had started to hurt from holding it in. This started a horrible cycle that took months to get out of. (knock on wood, I hope we are out of that cycle!) We'd spend 2-4 hours trying to get him to go. This became a daily battle because if he waited even one day it might hurt the next day because it was too large or hard. Or he'd be so scared that it would hurt that he'd hold it in. I won't go in to details here, but it was hell.

I was talking with a friend about this and she told me what she does (her DD is still having problems and it has been going on for years. They finally have an appointment to go see a specialist). Anyway, what she does is give her homemade strawberry lemonade and a shake. I don't remember the exact recipe I used for the lemonade, but I do remember there was a lot less sugar and only real lemons could be used (for the diuretic affect), but I still use the shake. I'll post the recipe I use for anyone who may need to use it to help keep things flowing for their little ones.

"Caca" Shake - makes about 12 ounces of shake (I think, I've never really measured. I just know it's about the right recipe for my two boys)

1/4 -1/3 of a can of canned pear juice (make sure you buy the canned pears that are canned in pear juice not syrup)
1-2 tsp wheat germ
1-2 pear halves
1-2 tablespoons of vanilla yogurt (the less sugar the better, of course)
2 frozen peach slices
1-2 frozen strawberries
4-6 frozen blueberries
1-3 frozen raspberries
1/6 of a banana to tone down the tartness of the berries. Don't use a lot of banana because it can help stop things up, if you know what I mean. To make thing easier I usually cut the ripe bananas into 6-8 pieces and then pop them in the freezer to use as needed.

At first I gave this to him every day. Then, after he started having BMs regularly without any physical pain or emotional struggle, I would give it to him every other day. Now I do it 1-2 times a week. Sometimes less than that.

I know most of you out there will say "duh" to this, but I'll say it anyway. Remember to increase water intake along with increased fiber intake and, if possible, take the child to the doctor if things continue to go badly. The psychological problems can take months, or longer, to get over if things aren't taken care of quickly.

One choclate universe on a sugar cone coming right up

2007-09-15T14:09:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a lot about the emptiness I feel and how paralyzing and overwhelming the questions in life have become for me. It's like a toddler with way too many choices. What kind of ice cream do you want? Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, orange sherbet, cookies and cream, oreo, chocolate fudge, pecan, toffee, coffee, green tea, neopolitan, etc...Ok honey, now pick which one you want.

I was told growing up that there was One True Ice Cream and now I have the opportunity to find the ice cream that I chose to be the best for me. That entails finding out what kids of ice creams exist and that can be daunting. Unlike most ice creams shops, the ice creams I can chose from are not in one location. Part of me feels tired and just doesn't have the energy to figure out what I believe, and another part of me is tired because I don't have much of anything that I believe in anymore.

Because of you

2007-09-13T21:36:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed, for those few who still read my blog, that I haven't really posted in awhile. I'm not sure where to start really. So much has happened that I haven't written about that I want to write about. I think I'll start with what has been going through my head today.

The first time I heard Because of You, by Kelly Clarkson, it was her duet with Reba McEntire (who I sometimes like) on TV and I flipped the channel 5 seconds after they started. Eventually, over time, I heard more and more of the song from flipping radio station channels and it started to grow on me. Then, about a month ago, I heard it on the way home and started to cry when I realized this song applied to me. I will post all of the lyrics but I'll only comment on those that really struck home with me.

I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery
I will not break the way you did
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far

Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt

Because of the church I learned never to stray from the sidewalk
and I learned to play on the safe side so I wouldn't get hurt.
Sounds like a good thing, right?  Sort of.  I wish I had been taught to
stay in places where I would be safe, or how to be safe if I left the
sidewalk, for logical reasons, real reasons.  Not ones that would make
me so afraid to stray from the sidewalk that I would have a difficult time
walking at all.

Because of you
I find it hard to trust
Not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid

Because of the church I find it hard to trust myself or anyone else and I am
very afraid.  Of everything.  I had a hard time trusting God so how on earth
do I trust someone who isn't supposed to be perfect?  How do I learn how to trust?

I wish I had been taught that people will hurt me and I will hurt others, sometimes
knowingly and purposefully, other times accidentally, and that is just a part of life.
People make mistakes and that's ok and no one is going to hell or will be kept from
their most beloved family members because of it.

I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake, a smile, a laugh

I faked so much hoping and believing it would make it so.  I think I even felt that
faking it did make it so because it would eventually happen.  I had been given that
promise in General Conference talks, so that meant  if I faked it the way they said
I should that it would eventually come and that made it as good as done.   I also
faked it because I felt that if I wasn't showing happiness then others would know I
was unhappy and think/see me as the unrighteous person that I felt I was.

Every day of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with

Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust
Not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid

I watched you die
I heard you cry
Every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry
In the middle of the night
For the same damn thing

Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because of you
I tried my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid

I worked very hard to not question or to make the round peg fit in the square hole.
I didn't listen to reason unless it fit within the church's doctrine or cultural
beliefs.  I did what they told me to do and was critical of the world and other
religions, but I did my best to “strengthen” my “testimony” in every way I could.
I tried to forget everything and everyone that didn't fit.  I don't know how to
trust anyone, most especially myself, and right now I just feel a black whole in
my heart.

Because of you
Because of you

If Reba McEntire gets on your nerves and you want to watch it with just Kelly Clarkson, you can go here.

The answer you've all been waiting for (drum roll please)

2007-09-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

Why, the man of course!

Riddles and Piddles

2007-09-08T18:57:00.000-07:00

There is a man and a dog by a tree in the city of Los Angeles and one of them is peeing. Which one is it?

Yay!

2007-08-21T21:15:00.000-07:00

I think we might get to see Sideon again on Friday as we move all of our junk down to CA. I'm soo excited to see him and Scott again! Yay! I know, I know, I haven't even blogged yet about the first time we got together. I think about doing it often, does that count?

Anyway, we have been really busy throwing stuff out and even having a garage sale. It has been really hard but very healing. Some of the things really rip my heart out, like finding Father's Blessings we had written down afterward (which I kept), while others aren't quite so hard to see again, like The Garden music CD (we did toss that one - I never did listen to it). Either way it has been a healing process for both Gluby and I.

P.S. I love getting letters in the mail, especially when I'm not expecting to. Thanks FFG, it made my day!

I ca-an't hear you!

2007-08-16T18:10:00.000-07:00

I deny it vehemently.

All I have to say is, "That's not my dog, I don't have a dog, my dog doesn't bite." *blowing a raspberry at Gluby*

Reality Bites

2007-08-13T13:24:00.000-07:00

When I thought my kids had lice I really appreciated my sisters frank, honest answer. Basically she said it would be hell (though that was not the specific word she used) and then she gave me specifics on how her three month ordeal went. I loved it because I felt prepared.

I don't know if there is anyway to prepare myself for the emotions I am having at leaving Oregon. Or more specifically, Amber. Amber and I have talked this last spring about the impending move but neither of us could really grasp the reality of it. That reality hit today as I stopped on over for a moment to giver her some blackberries from the bush in our backyard. We talked for 10-15 minutes and then I said, "you know, ironically enough, or appropriately enough, I heard 'Lean on me' while I was pulling into the parking lot and it really made me think of how we have been there for each other." Of course I started to get teary and then we hugged and both started to cry. Then we talked for a few more minutes and then started to cry and hug more (you'd think I was leaving today and that I wouldn't be seeing her tomorrow). I said goodbye and walked to the car bawling. I am still emotional from the impact of reality finally hitting me square in the face.

She has been my rock and comforter over the past18 months. When I couldn't talk to Gluby I could talk to her. When I wanted to get away and giggle about everything and nothing I went to her house (or she to mine). When I had important questions about whatever I'd ask her or bounce them off of her. I had no idea the first time I met her or the first time we really started to talk just how important, influential, and stabilizing she would be in my life. I feel like I am leaving half of myself behind.

Sometimes in our lives we all have pain
We all have sorrow
But if we are wise
We know that there's always tomorrow

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you WON’T let show

you just call on me brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that YOU’LL understand
We all need somebody to lean on

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For ,it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on

YA just call on me brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that YOU’LL understand
We all need somebody to lean on

If there is a load you have to bear
That you can't carry
I'm right up the road
I'll share your load
If you just call me
call me (if you need a friend)
call me (call me)
etc...

...and (finally) back again

2007-08-10T13:36:00.000-07:00

We are finally back home now (we got in around 7:30 last night) and it is really nice to be back. We are going to be moving in 2-3 weeks so we have got tons to do (rental truck, packing, finding a job, school stuff for S, packing, hopefully throwing out half of our stuff, packing, cleaning, packi......) so I don't know how much energy I'll have to write at the end of the day. I want to write about our trips in some detail, but I don't want to make a promise I don't know if I can keep. So, to keep you all in suspense and ensure that you will check back often I'll just say that I hope to tell you all about it very soon. :)

I will say this. You know how when you have really high expectations for something and then it doesn't meet those expectations? Like a movie you have heard really was the best movie of the year by people you know and they have seen it like 10 times and then you go and see it and say, "meh, whatever"? Well, meeting Wry Catcher, Sideon and Scott, and Bishop Rick was definitely not like that. I LOVED meeting them and had a WONDERFUL time with them, albeit waaaaay to short of a time. I hope to be seeing them all again soon. And maybe the next time we do my kids won't be so wound up from 12 hours of driving that they literally jump on top of Wry for an hour while we chat.

Journey to infinity and beyond......

2007-07-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

Gluby and I are leaving for out trips so we will probably not be posting too much until we get back. If I can, I hope to post while I am visiting family, but we'll see how that goes. I hope you all are doing well and that you will not forget about us while we are gone!

I'm waay excited because we have plans in the making for meeting up with Wry Catcher and Sideon. Yay!!

See you all when we return!

Bullseye

2007-07-15T23:57:00.000-07:00

Ok, I've been tagged again (I love it - makes me feel important) by Liseysmom (I know, long time ago, but I've been lazy, I mean busy.)

Here it is - "I quickly write 8 random facts/habits about myself, and then tag 8 people. If I tag you, you had better play".

1. I can't exercise with dirty teeth, so I always brush before I go for a walk, run, bike ride, etc. I also enjoy my food more if my teeth are clean. I guess because my mind is so focused on the grit that I can't focus on the chocolate?

2. I have a small scar on my forehead from my second case of chicken pox - I didn't have it bad enough the first time so I got it again. I used to notice the scar a lot more when I was younger (maybe I just had a lot more time to look at my face before I got married and had kids), but I hardly ever think about it any more.

3. I have quit the habit of popping my knuckles three times over the last 20 years. I actually went 5 years w/o popping them again the first time, about 2-3 years the second time, and only a couple of months the third time. My knuckles were really sore and it hurt to do anything, especially mow the lawn, so I started popping them again. Ugh.

4. My hair used to be straight when I was younger so I would get perms every so often to get some body and wave. The last perm I got was my sophomore year in high school and my hair never lost all of the wave. It's slightly wavy on the bottom and straight on the top.

5. I have dry eye syndrome, which I found out about on my mission. My tears dry up in about 2-3 seconds instead of the normal 15ish. I guess I'll have to wear glasses until I die as contacts are out and so is Lasik (for now anway, maybe they'll come up with something in a few years and I'll have it done when I'm 50 and it's no longer experimental)

6. I used to love to daydream ALL THE TIME! I didn't mind going on long car trips because I would spend the whole time daydreaming. I loved doing boring, mindless jobs at work because I could fantasize that some cute famous actor would see me walking down the street and be mesmerized by my inner and outer beauty. Pfft, ha, anyway.

7. I love to make spreadsheets and piles. Organized piles (I call them organized, to others they are just piles). Gluby says that explains how I can love playing Solitaire so much, I'm just making more organized piles.

8. I listened to Pink Floyd's "The Wall" for the whole summer before my Senior year of High School and didn't get that it was a story and not just a whole mix of songs like you normally hear on an album, er cassette (so now you all know I am over 25 - at least I didn't say 8 track; that would have been Neil Diamond's "Coming to America" ).

I'm going to tag Bishop Rick, JOOM, FFG, Supernova, Gluby (love ya , babe!), Degenerate Elite, T. Wanker (miss you!), and JulieAnn. Sorry if you've already been tagged and I missed it. That means I need you to do it again so I can read it and get caught up! :)

Thank you

2007-07-10T21:59:00.000-07:00

Thanks everyone, for you advice and support in the comments on my last post. It helped me to stop and think, which, despite what Gluby may think, is actually a good thing (ha, just kidding - ahem, ok I'll be serious now) Even with all of the anxiety I have been experiencing I am excited to see my family, and Gluby's as well.

I haven't been around as much because I have no homework to avoid and I spend all of my time with the boys now (yes, that includes Gluby - for some weird reason he wants to spend time with me after we put the younger boys to bed) which leaves very little time for me to read up on blogs or post on my own. I miss you all and thank you for reading and commenting (especially commenting) and I do hope to post a bit more before we leave. But, please don't hold your breath. I don't want to be responsible for anyone's demise.

Socks - check; Shoes - check; Anxiety - check

2007-07-01T23:49:00.000-07:00

I will be visiting family and friends within the next month and am starting to feel very anxious about it. I haven't told anyone except my parents, siblings and my grandmother. My parents have visited twice since I told them, one planned and one very unplanned, but both of them happened here.

Now I will be venturing back to where I grew up and where most of the people I know are TBM (at least as far as I know) and I am getting very anxious about it. Part of me wants to shout out from the rooftops that I don't believe anymore so I won't have to deal with the shocked expressions over and over again in individual situations when speaking with friends, or even family, who haven't heard yet. Mostly friends though, as I think most of the family I might see on this trip will already have heard.

Do I send an email to my old pack of friends, none of whom I really write or talk to more than once or twice a year yet still consider a friend because we were friends for so long? Do I pretend I am not in town and just not call them? I know at least one, if not more, of these friends will feel hurt if she doesn't hear this from me because we used to be very good friends. I just hate to open that box. Though I know I have to, especially as it may already have been pierced by rumors. At least if I tell them all myself they will have more of the "facts." (though obviously not much more than "I don't believe anymore" will be included in the letter as I don't think they would take well to reading the impossibility of certain biblical and B of M stories)

The Beginning of the End

2007-06-19T10:44:00.000-07:00

Gluby and I had been married for 16 months when I finally pulled it out of him that he was having doubts. I knew something was up because he was always upset, angry, or aloof after church or "fulfilling" his calling as the ward mission leader. One day after church I sat down at the table and basically said, "hey, I know something is bothering you and I want to know what it is. You are always upset on Sundays. Why?" He said nothing was bothering him, he was ok, he was fine. I said, "No, you are not fine. I can tell something is upsetting you. Please tell me. Please talk to me." He was silent for awhile and then he said, "I have been having some doubts about the church."

My stomach dropped to my feet and my heart started pounding. In my head I minimized it by saying that these must be just regular doubts that everyone has and everything will be ok. It's just a bigger deal to him because he's only been a member for 2 1/2 years and this must be the first real trial of his testimony. I asked him what his doubts were about. He said that he didn't want to tell me in case they caused me to doubt. I, of course, was above doubting enough to cause real problems, so I urged him to tell me. He again stated his worry about causing me to doubt. At the end of the discussion we both felt like this was something he could overcome by reading, praying, fasting, and continuing to go to church. I also felt he should go talk to the bishop about it to maybe get a blessing or answers to his questions. He didn't get along too well with the bishop so he felt uncomfortable doing so. I, of course, "knew" that whatever differences they had would melt away as the bishop followed the promptings of the Spirit to help him. But, I didn't push the issue because I also knew Gluby needed to want to go.

The next 18 months were a roller coaster ride. We felt hope, Gluby even had what I considered to be a spiritual experience where he "definitely" felt the Holy Ghost and I thanked Heavenly Father for giving him that to help him overcome his doubts. I knew that we were back on track. But he still struggled with so many things, very few of which he felt comfortable telling me. He didn't want anyone to know, and we both felt things would straighten out soon, so we didn't tell anyone.

This period of time was very difficult because it seemed every time we took a step forward we took 5 steps backward. I started to fear he would become "inactive" someday. I subconsciously felt the need to become a super Mormon to make up for his doubts and to be an example to him to help him overcome his doubts and to get blessings in heaven so God would bless him with a testimony and to bring an extra special spirit into our home and and and and and......

I did everything extra mile because I knew we would be blessed and that if I just lived worthily that he would be ok. Or, if he did become inactive, that he would eventually come back. Then he read a quote by Brigham Young condoning the slavery of blacks. Then President Hinckley basically stated his support for war after September 11. Then he went in and talked with the bishop. I vacillated between believing that God was giving us these trials because we could overcome them and believing that Satan was putting these things in front of him and that all was lost. That Satan was out to get him and he was winning.

I remember when Gluby left for the appointment with the bishop that I felt lighthearted and hopeful and I just knew things would improve. I was happier and more hopeful than I had felt since he told me over a year earlier. When he came home I was dumbfounded. Gluby was angrier than I had ever seen him before because of the way the bishop had treated him. I will let Gluby write more about this if he wants to, but the parts that stick out in my mind are that the bishop kept asking him if he was living the law of chastity and then asked him if he ever left would he be able to leave the church alone. He was livid that the bishop would accuse him of having an affair or looking at porn and have that be the reason he had these doubts; that he must be sinning otherwise he wouldn't be having these problems. And then not believe him when he told him he was living the law of chastity as to ask him this question three times.

My hopes were crushed. I was angry that the bishop had treated him that way and I was angry that he had acted in a way that had pushed Gluby further away. Why hadn't the Spirit prompted him to say things that would help Gluby? We were both doing everything we could and yet nothing was changing or improving. Was I not righteous enough to be a good influence on my husband to help bring him back? What was I doing wrong? I was so confused, hurt, angry, helpless and hopeless. And I couldn't talk to anyone about any of it.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

2007-06-16T15:28:00.000-07:00

Yikes, I didn't realize how long it has been since I last posted (if you can actually count a two liner as a post). Things have been busy around the house in LemonLand. I finished the term, had my parents out the next day for the weekend (Gluby was jumping up and down with joy at that one), and trying to catch up on things I have left to pile up. Things which are more than laundry and dust. I have been in lurker mode for a bit, just not able to put my heart into much more than a quick hello. I hope that I'll work up the motivation to write a post about what it was like for me as an inbetweener while I was TBM and Gluby wasn't, as well as one about Christopher Columbus. He was actually the issue that allowed me to open the door to questioning my beliefs about the church.

Now that I have you all curious I'm going to go play. Bye!

You gotta love a good snarky remark

2007-05-30T20:35:00.000-07:00

I stopped by FMH again today and the most recent post is about praying to Heavenly Mother. The second comment made me laugh.

But how can you be sure you get the right mother in heaven?

Comment by Anonymous — May 30, 2007 @ 12:31 pm

Just a shout out to family

2007-05-24T20:48:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to say a big "hi!" to the family members who know about this blog and hop on over. I am glad you stop by to read it!

Now, just to let the frequent commenters and lurkers know, these are NOMs, ex-mormons, or never-mos who know about it, not my TBM family members. I don't think that I'll ever tell my TBM family about it because it would just be too hard for them to deal with.

Things are going ok. I am up and down a lot and have anxiety attacks sometimes, but I have been feeling better these last couple of days. I talked with both of my sisters today and nothing about the "situation" came up while we were on the phone. Can anyone say "Fun!"?

Something dumb this way comes

2007-05-22T11:40:00.001-07:00

This is what I wrote on FLAK about my conversation with my younger sister. Obviously this was written before I had talked with my older sister yesterday.

My conversation with my younger sister didn't go quite so well. I mean, overall it did, but I started to babble and drool. I so wanted her to not feel threatened by me that I basically said that she should feel open to sharing spiritual experiences with me (please, please bear your testimony to me!) and that she needn't worry about me "mocking" her (she actually said that word) or casting "pearls before swine" (that last one was me. What?! I'm comparing myself to swine now?!? Get me off the phone NOW!) Sigh.

I know my sister doesn't really think I'll mock her, but that she used that word anyway, and had the guts to say that she isn't sure she'll feel open to sharing her spiritual side with me, was hard to take and I just fell flat on my face. Fortunately she is less TBM than my older sister and my mother and I think I will be able to "straighten" things out over time. I haven't talked with my older sister yet and really dread it.

Overall, right now I know I did what was best and what I needed to, but I wish it would all go away. I am so tired and depressed. I feel no relief of stress or "happiness" or anything like I had hoped I would after sending the letter. I keep picturing myself handling everything with confidence and dignity. That conversation proved I lack both right now! I think that those things will come with time, but that I am just dealing with a lot of difficult emotions and I have never really learned how to assert myself with dignity or confidence. I hope I get it fast before I really do something stupid.

Family reactions

2007-05-21T21:21:00.000-07:00

In rereading this post I decided to delete for the sake of privacy for all of those concerned. For anyone reading this for the first time, my family handled it better than I had hoped and things are going well. I have saved all of the comments for my personal records and say thank you to everyone who posted one. If you have questions you'd like to ask me about anything, please feel free to email me.

Oh, that elephant?

2007-05-20T00:04:00.000-07:00

Gluby and I had an interesting IM conversation this afternoon while I was trying to study and just kind of comprehend what I did last night.

glubyglobglob: you there?
lb: yes
glubyglobglob: Try and think of one really stressful thing I could tell you.
lb: um, one of the kids is hurt and needs to go to the dr.
lb: or they are dead
lb: bleeding to death
glubyglobglob: How about something like, your parents are in the living room.
lb: you want to spend $1,000
lb: ha
lb: ok, now that made my heart jump
glubyglobglob: That would be funny, wouldn't it?
lb: um, no
lb: really
lb: my heart is still pumping
glubyglobglob: If your mother was on the floor sitting with Malek looking at blocks.
glubyglobglob: If your father was sitting on the fireplace bricks.
glubyglobglob: Now that would be ...
lb: please tell me you aren't serious
glubyglobglob: They're here, honey.
lb: because my heart is seriously pounding
glubyglobglob: I am dead serious.
lb: what?
glubyglobglob: No jokes.
glubyglobglob: No playing.
glubyglobglob: They drove.
lb: please
lb: please
glubyglobglob: Sweetheart.
lb: please tell me you aren't serious
lb: please
glubyglobglob: No jokes.
lb: I know
glubyglobglob: I would NEVER play with you like this.
glubyglobglob: Not for longer than an instant.
lb: I think I am going to faint
glubyglobglob: So much for waiting til Sunday.
lb: do they know that you have talked with me?
glubyglobglob: About the church?
glubyglobglob: No.
glubyglobglob: I just told them I would check on something.
lb: did they ask where I was?
glubyglobglob: I told them you're out studying.
glubyglobglob: What do you want me to tell them?
lb: that I am still out studying
glubyglobglob: Not coming now?
lb: and I am never coming home

Ok, so I obviously did go home, but not before I hyperventilated and tried calling A. twice (using someone else's cell phone - what a nice person). While I was Instant Messaging Gluby I considered having him tell my parents that he wasn't able to get a hold of me and then I could take an hour or two to avoid them, but we realized that it would just drag things out for everyone and that I needed to be honest with myself and well as with them. I did drive to A.'s house so I could share my woes with her, but she wasn't home, so I decided I had just better go home. It was probably better this way anyway because I have to do this on my own and crying to A. would just make me feel even more like I didn't want to face this alone (well, of course Gluby is there, but you all know what I mean).

This is what I wrote on FLAK about today:

Thanks everyone. This is one of those things I'll laugh about later, right?

Well, so far things have gone better than I imagined. By the time I finally got home I was as composed as I could be. I walked in the door and gave my 5 yr old a hug and saw my dad. I gave him a big hug and then walked into the front room where my mom was playing with our 2 yr old. We hugged for about 2 minutes and we didn't say anything. We just hugged and it felt loving and nice. We haven't talked about anything dealing with the church or the letter yet. Partly because we went out to eat and ended up going to the store for necessities and didn't get home until after 10:00. By the time the kids were in bed, and their bed was put up, it was pretty late and everyone was tired. So, if anything is said it will be tomorrow before they leave.

The nice part about tonight has been that we all know there is an elephant in the room that will be acknowledged, but that it isn't uncomfortable. Part of me wonders if we will talk about it at all before they leave. I can actually see my parents coming out here (a 9 hour drive) to let me know that they love me, that they understand things have been hard and just want to be with me. Of course, I can also see them bringing it up as tactfully and lovingly as they can. And if they overstep any boundaries I want to have up I'll kindly and lovingly let them know.

Another nice thing is that none of this is fake, not on their part and not on my part, though we all know that they wish I still believed.

I know that there will be times of frustration, with passive-aggressive, angry crap that will come my way, but today wasn't that day, and for that I am grateful.

So, wish me luck, fellow bloggers, and that things will continue to go well for all of the involved parties.

P.S. Gluby did get a smack for playing with me at the beginning of the conversation. Obnoxious little sh......

Let's hope for the best

2007-05-18T20:59:00.001-07:00

It is done.

It

2007-05-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

Well, the letter telling my family I no longer believe the church is true is finally is finished. I am planning on sending it tonight.

Feeling Poetic

2007-05-09T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am not usually one to write a poem, but today this one just kind of wrote itself as I was, once again, working on "It." ("It," for those who many not know what I'm talking about, is the letter I am going to send to my family to tell them about my lack of belief in the Mormon Church. But, shhhh, I said I wasn't going to mention the letter again until I sent it, so I am trying to be stealthy and just type "It.")

When I am alone with my thoughts
what do I think? How do I feel
when I am not trying to convince others or myself
that I no longer believe it to be true?
When the wall of protective confidence
no longer shields me from me,
what do I believe?

I actually spend a large part of my time trying not to think about this stuff too deeply because the pain, anger, loneliness, fear, sadness, etc. can be overwhelming. So, as I sat here really thinking about this stuff for a change, I found myself thinking, "do I really believe it isn't true? I mean, my actions and words would suggest that, but do I really believe that it is not true? What do I believe?"

I think there is a difference in who I am consciously and subconsciously. Consciously, I think I am not longer Mormon, but my subconscious is still trying to break out of the Mormon thought/feeling pattern. When I think about my mission, or who always I thought I would be, or who I wanted to be, I start to feel sad or disappointed in myself and feel a sense of loss, or I feel like I have let people down. Yet, when I think about where I am at this moment, I feel like I am in the right spot, the only spot I could be in. At least this isn't a confusing time, right?

For those who may not have read it yet, Jer also touched upon this subject in this excellent post. I am definitely mourning the loss of "unfulfilled expectations," and at times still grasp with an "iron-fist" to old ideals, because I always thought I would end up a certain person and be a certain way and feel a need to flail toward them when I feel lost and directionless.

Happy May Day

2007-05-01T14:12:00.000-07:00

I have been having anxious dreams every night for the past week and I am so tired. I wake up around 4:30 or 5:30 every morning and sleep fitfully until 7. This morning I read my "Wobblies!" sociology book until 8 and then got up to get the boys ready for the day. I need some good, deep sleep. I can tell my tiredness isn't just from lack of sleep however. It's too bone deep.

I found out today that a friend is being shipped out to Iraq a lot earlier than she expected. She found out a couple of months ago that she was going (she's in the reserves and I had hoped she wouldn't be called), but expected to leave toward the end of June. She is getting her orders in 1-2 days and will leave probably in a week. If so, she misses her oldest son's 5th B-day, which is on Mother's Day. I cry for her, for her sons, for her marriage, for the things she will miss, for the things she will have to experience. I hope that the war only separates this family for the year (yah, whatever, let's just be real and say 16 months) that she is supposed to be gone and that they can get one relatively well after she comes home (I don't dare think of the other option right now. I am too emotional already).

There are so many lives which have been lost and ruined because war and other situations similar though they may not be called a war. I have always felt badly for the struggles and hardships people have had because of decisions people with power have made, but this one is really hurting the most right now.

Inconclusive

2007-04-28T17:35:00.000-07:00

The doctor's office called last week (or was it the week before? Anyway) and said that my mono tests were inconclusive. I show that I have either had it in the past, without knowing it, or I am at the beginning stages of it. I think I am at the beginning stages, or was at the time she called, because I am so tired all the time. Now I think I am right in the middle of it because it seems no matter how much I sleep I always feel light headed and tired. That would by why I haven't replied to comments or written much lately.

So, if any of you have any mono stories you'd like to share or helpful information, this is the hot mono spot for the day!

Gluby's going to hate me, but...

2007-04-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, sweetie!!

Comments

2007-04-20T14:17:00.000-07:00

I haven't forgotten about all of you wonderful people who have commented on my last few posts (thank you!). I will reply to you all very soon!

That's Ant-tastic!

2007-04-20T09:31:00.000-07:00

It all started 2 years ago when a beautiful maiden with golden hair was delicately partaking of her dainty breakfast.

Ok, so I haven't been a maid in over 7 years and my hair is more brown than golden, but you all get the idea. I was 7 months pregnant and had poured myself some cereal with milk. I talked with S while I was getting my spoon and sitting down to eat, so I paid no attention to my bowl. I took a bite and my mouth was immediately overcome by an acrid, moldy decomposing-earthy taste in my mouth. My face distorted immediately and I ran to spit out the horrid, poisonous monster from my mouth. I wondered what the cereal company had put in the cereal and if there had been a recall I hadn't heard about. As I peered into my cereal bowl the answer floated serenely in my milk. Ants.

This ended up happening two more times before M was born, but not with cereal. Once with chocolate chips and another time with a PB&J sandwich I had left on the counter while dealing with nap time dilemmas with S. Now I can smell them and they smell as bad as they taste.

Gluby once brought me an unpeeled orange that had ants crawl on. I started to peel it and recoiled in horror as I smelled the smell. When I sweep the floor I smell the ones who have been crushed in the dust-pan process as that horrible torrent of ant-scent once again wafts over my face. Or when I clean the counter and catch a few of them on the rag.

So, this morning I was making the boys toast and picked up the butter knife. I turned it over to cut the butter and saw an ant on it. What?! Ants don't like butter! Or so I thought. Anyway, I disposed of the body and wiped the knife off with a paper towel, but it still reeked of the ant chemical smell, so I dropped it in the sink (is it bad that I would have used the knife after only wiping it off with a paper towel?) and pulled out a new one, irritated that I have to wash one more knife because of those stupid things.

The weird thing is that we don't have tons of ants crawling all over our kitchen. I catch sight every once in awhile but there aren't that many. I have started to think it's a conspiracy. The ants are out to get me.

*No ants were killed in the writing of this post.

Very quick update

2007-04-18T09:34:00.000-07:00

This must be very quick because I am supposed to be resting in bed (I am exhausted).

A very good friend came over last night and I asked him to look over the letter to let me know what he thought. He gave me some great insights and I changed a couple of things in the letter. The best advice he gave, though, was to not give them the letter until I have gone 24 hours without wanting to make any big changes in the letter. The last thing I need here is to try and keep a deadline and then have something in the letter that I wish I had not hastily added. And, since the reason for telling them on the day tax season ended is no longer there, my younger sister being the only one knowing and not being able to get support from family members, I decided to give it a couple of days.

Part of me is just getting really tired of talking about it and not doing it, (and you all are probably saying, "Just do it already!" :) ) and the other part is glad to have waited until I feel less hurried. I really did start to feel like I was rushing myself, though most of it is done, because there were a few things I just wasn't sure about.

So, now that I have posted about it, again, and not done it, again, I, Lemon Blossom, promise not to mention "the letter" again until I have sent it! And, I promise to write sentences with lots of commas in them for all of you comma lovers out there. :)

Free at last?

2007-04-17T15:19:00.000-07:00

Well, tonight is probably the night. I have been working on "the letter" and I swear I have never edited and a paper so much in my life. Granted, none of the other papers I wrote were quite so life changing, but still. Poor Gluby has submitted to at least 5 readings with changes here and there over the last 24 hours, plus at least 3 readings before my sister visited this last weekend. Two other very close friends have also been subjected to this torture and are still among the living, so I guess it's passable. I haven't decided yet if I will post it on my blog or not. I read the email passages FTA wrote and found them to be very helpful - who knows, maybe mine might help someone else. If I do not post it and anyone would like to read it to help them out in writing their letter, please feel free to email me and I will send it to you.

The time with my sister went fairly well. I thought for sure that she would have noticed immediately that I wasn't wearing my garments, no matter what kind of clothes I had on, or seen some sort of "lack" which would have set off her 'apostate' alarms. Fortunately that did not happen. I followed her lead on the subject and, in the end, decided to wait the extra 3 days and tell her with my family so she wouldn't have to suffer alone or somehow bring things out in the open before tax season was over.

We went out to dinner, minus Gluby (why on earth did he not want to go out with four boys under the age of 5?!), and that is when/where she decided to bring the subject up. She said that she knew my older sister had talked with me and they both wanted to make sure that I wasn't offended. I assured her that I wasn't and she asked me something about what was going on. I can't remember exactly what she had asked, but it would have opened up "the subject." The boys once again 'saved' me. All four must have been whacked out restaurant fries and ice cream because they were all bouncing off of the walls. I said, "Maybe now isn't the time to talk about it." and motioned toward the four very loud children sitting with us. She agreed and we talked about other topics and went back to my house. I thought she might bring it up again, but she didn't (maybe because Gluby was in the house with us and she didn't know whether or not she could/should talk about it around him). She left Saturday morning and made it home safely that night. All's well that ends well, right?

Boys will be boys

2007-04-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

Gluby is in changing M's diaper while I am in the office paying bills. I hear Gluby making martial arts sound effect noises and M is laughing like crazy, encouraging him to make more. These are the moments I live for.

Happy Birthday to me (yesterday)

2007-04-12T10:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was really nice and really sucky. We'll start off with sucky and go to nice.

I got home from class and listened to our phone messages (I really have to stop doing that). My younger sister left her brother-in-law's house yesterday and was hoping to head down here today. After I heard the message I was kind of hoping someone in the house would throw up or something. Although another part of me is really starting to feel ready to move on as well. But I really, really don't want to do this. And, as far as I know, she is driving here as I write.

We decided to go out to dinner last night and Gluby ordered a dark beer (similar to Guinness) and I had my first cocktail, a cherry blossom. That went well. I liked my cocktail and even didn't mind the beer after the first few sips. And then my really nice former visiting teachers (we moved out of the ward last october) stopped by to give me a birthday plant (this was nice but a little nerve racking). I was sure they could smell alcohol on me, but it was almost 3 hours after we ate, so maybe not. I hope.

And I have had swollen glands in my neck that come and go ever since I had strep in February. Last night my right ear and my glands hurt so much that I could not sleep because every time I swallowed the pain woke me up. I went to the doctor's office this morning to find out that I do not have an ear infection. Sigh. I was hoping to get something to fix it. They did take blood for a mono test and a CBC, though, because this has been going on for so long.

Now, to the really nice part. Gluby bought me some oil pastel crayon type things and some nice colored pencils that can also be used as water colors or something (I know, this sentence reveals just how little I know about drawing, but I hope to put them to good use anyway - even if it does look like my son drew it), and two nice notebooks to draw in, and a huge chocolate cake (no, there wasn't a party, just us four.) It will take us weeks to eat this thing because it's so rich. Anyone want some cake?

Happy 31st Birthday to me!

Just Breathe

2007-04-10T14:50:00.000-07:00

Take a deep breath. I am starting (again) to have anxiety episodes a lot because of the impending letters I will be writing and sending this week. I know that some people would not recommend me telling my family of my disaffection in a letter, that in person or even on the phone is better, but I feel it is better for everyone involved if I don't. I decided early on that I would send them letters so they could have whatever freak-out session they wanted without having to worry about how their ranting and raving would affect what little testimony they hope I might have. And I will be able to thoughtfully write out what I want to say and not stumble over my words and just cry for 20 minutes before I say, "I no longer believe the church to be True."

My older sister called last week and mentioned how everyone was asking about me at my Grandma's Birthday dinner and that she told everyone she thinks I'm doing ok, but she hasn't talked to me much (I admit I have been avoiding them for the precise reason I am about to share). *She asked me if I have a calling at church, if things with Gluby are uncomfortable when we get home from church, if the boys like church, if I have been much lately. She noticed I was reticent to answer her questions and asked me if it was difficult to talk about because Gluby was nearby or if it was uncomfortable for me to talk about it right now. I said yes. And then she said that everyone is concerned for me because I don't talk about my church callings, or church at all, or my spiritual experiences anymore (we would talk about these things in 90% of our conversations, really) and they are worried about me. You know, "if you aren't progressing and striving to move forward than you are sliding backward" and "we are just worried that you aren't progressing. We want our sister to be in the mansions of heaven with us someday."

M picked that time to start screaming because S was doing something he didn't like. I set the phone down after helping the boys, walked into the office and started crying on Gluby.

And a few days before this took place I was talking to my younger sister on the phone when this pleasant conversation occurred.

*"J (her 3 1/2 yr old son) was telling me how S (my oldest ) is in his primary class and I told him that S is not in his class because he lives in another state. So J asks me if S would be in his primary class if he lived here and I said no because he is older. So then he asks me what primary class S is in and I said, 'I don't know.' Do you know which class S is in?"

"Uh, no, I can't remember. The 4-5 year old class."

At this point S asked me about something and when I went back to the phone conversation we started talking about something else, but we both knew we were still thinking about what had just happened. My heart was beating fast until we got off the phone a few minutes later.

All I need now is for my parents to call and say something. So, I am now at the point where I think I feel ready to tell them. It is harder on everyone that the truth is hidden and it will be easier for us to move forward if it comes out. I am waiting for tax season to end so I don't give my parents a heart attack after adding so much emotional distress to their lives. Oy vey.

* these conversations with my sisters are very rare. They normally consist of, "how are you" "what are your kids/spouse up to" "how's the weather" sort of conversations. They are just now getting the nerve to talk to me about these things because (I'm guessing here) they are really starting to worry and figure that I'm just struggling as a single-mother church attender and don't want to talk about my husband's leaving and that they are helping by asking me questions.

Two conversations not to have with your 4 1/2 yr old before talking with your TBM mother

2007-04-09T14:41:00.000-07:00

I was running around on Saturday doing some errands and thought it would be a good time to talk with S about Easter. I told him that some people believe in a God and think of him as kind of like a papa that they can't see. They believe that this God had a son named Jesus and that Jesus was killed. Three days later he was resurrected. We talk a moment about what resurrection means and all that. Then I talked about how Gluby doesn't believe there is a God and that I am not sure if I believe that there is a God or not. So some people believe there is, and some believe there isn't, and some aren't sure.

And then I talk about the Easter Bunny and that he is like Santa Claus. Not real, but it's kinda fun to hunt for easter eggs and get candy. That was the best part of the conversation for him. Yum!

So, later that night we are dying easter eggs and, out of nowhere, he asks, "Mama, how do you and Papa mate?" I try not to drop the egg I am painting onto the counter.

"How do we mate? Well, basically we get naked and then Papa inserts his penis into my vagina." (I know, I am leaving out all the good parts.)

"Oh. Is it hard?"

At this point I was trying really, really hard not to smile or laugh or send him to Gluby because I know he will get a kick out of his question. But instead I say, "No. It's usually pretty easy."

And then he asks if it's harder when Papa is on the bottom (what?!!? Oh, yah, he's been watching nature movies. Take a deep breath) Again, I am tempted to send him to Gluby to ask this because I know he'll get a kick out of it, but I don't give in to the temptation. "Um, well, I don't think so." And we eventually move on to another subject.

Ten minutes later my mother calls and I talk to her for a bit. Then M, our 21-month old wants to say hi. So I give him the phone. Then S wants to say hi. Panic sets in. Is he going to talk about how we are dying easter eggs and that some people believe easter is about Jesus' resurrection, but that his Mama doesn't believe in God? Or is he going to say that it's not hard for his Mama and Papa to mate? So, when I hand him the phone I ever so deftly say, "S, tell Grandma all about the egg you are painting!" And then I pray, to whom I have no idea, but I pray anyway, that he does not mention anything about God or mating.

Fortunately for everyone involved he only talked about the purple egg he was coloring with green glow-in-the-dark paint.

I know some (many? most?) people will not agree with how I handled either conversation. How would you all have told your kids about other people's belief in God, your dis/belief in God, and/or sex

Whoa

2007-04-08T14:27:00.000-07:00

I am flabbergasted. I was tooling around today and found a post by Life in the Fast Lane (March 8, 2007) that mentions me. Me! I cannot tell you how quickly my jaw hit the floor when I read "An excellent post by Lemon Blossom really made me think about the roots of religion and why people feel such a need for it." I wrote an excellent post?! I made someone think?! Seriously, I feel like my blog is all fluff and complaining about how hard things are right now, so to see that at least once I have made someone think makes me want to write about something else that might be thought provoking. So, here goes...

*Silence*

Um, ok, hold on. This is embarrassing.

*Silence*

Well, folks, I guess that confirms it. This blog will only have one thought provoking post in it, so if you want to think you can go visit Equality, Gluby, or Mormon Stories. If you want fluff and someone to complain with, come visit me!

Good and Bad News

2007-04-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

The good news is my sister is not coming this weekend like we had planned, so that gives me a couple of weeks to work on things some more. The bad news is she isn't coming because she had a nervous breakdown. Her husband has been out of town on business for the last 4-6 weeks. She is pregnant with their third child, she has a 3 1/2 yr old, a 2 yr old, and she just moved them 2 weeks ago. It's no wonder she broke down as he was leaving his brother's house to head back to work. (She went out to spend a couple of days with her husband and they all went to his brother's house for a visit. She was planning on stopping through here on her way home.)

Now I am really glad that she didn't come. She would not have handled the news well at all, poor girl. She said she would like to stop by on her way back home, though, so she'll come and visit when she is feeling better. I am glad that she is able to stay with friends/family who also have kids and who can help her with her boys.

Oh, and Happy Bunny Day tomorrow!

My worst case scenario....

2007-04-06T16:20:00.000-07:00

would be to have family come over to visit before I am ready to tell them about my disaffection.

It looks like my worst case scenario just might happen this weekend. I got a call from my younger sister a couple of days ago saying she's only about 4 1/2 hours away and was wondering if she and her two boys can come by and visit. Sure! The sad thing is, she has no idea what she's in for. Neither do I, for that matter.

I love drugs!

2007-03-09T16:16:00.000-08:00

Sorry everyone! I know I haven't replied to any comments on my last two posts. With those papers and the flu I've had over the last couple of weeks I just haven't had the time. Now I found out I have strep throat. So, I think I'll be out of commission for another couple of days. I love your comments and will get back on top of things in a couple of days. And if this post doesn't make sense it's because I haven't eaten for two days and am on vicodin for the pain so I can hopefully start eating soon.

By the way, if you want something good to read check out Amber's blog. I think she's great (ok, I'm a little biased as she is my best friend, but she really is a neat person!) and think you all would love her. I had no idea just how similar Sikhism and Mormonism were until I met her and we got to talking.

I hope you all have a great weekend!

Papers and papers and papers

2007-03-06T14:43:00.000-08:00

Ok, I have finished one paper, now on to the next. I have until 10:00 AM on Thursday to read the preface and four chapters in Ernest Renan's The Life of Jesus and write a 6-7 page paper. I know I can do it and am actually a little excited to read stuff about Jesus in a post-TBM-transitional phase perspective, but I still have a question. Is the term over yet?

The Best Movies are B movies (or LB movies)

2007-02-27T00:53:00.000-08:00

This is for all of you cat lovers out there.

*cue deep, ominous man's voice and mysterious music*
Coming soon to a blog near you! The best blog of the season! (Bloggington Post) A must see! (The Blogexeter)

*dramatic pause*

The Return of Lemon Blossom: The Haunting Love Story of a Demonic Goddess

*mysterious music fades*

(or maybe just a return to my regular emotional breakdown posts. I haven't been able to decide yet.)

Cards

2007-02-25T15:07:00.000-08:00

These were too funny not to share.

Valentine Cards

Too many holidays to choose from!

Some of these are just hilarious!

History

2007-02-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

I just realized the other day that I haven't really mentioned my background that much, so I thought I would introduce myself. Hi, my name is Lemon Blossom and I am a mormonholic.

I grew up in a very TBM family. I was the third of four children, 3 girls and one boy. My dad has been in the Bishopric 3 or 4 times. He was just released as bishop this last October. Going to church on Sundays was a given, as was every church activity we could go to. I remember giving Books of Mormon away to our neighbors, inviting them to Primary activities, highlighting scriptures as a family, and FHE almost every Monday. One of my favorite memories is playing softball as a family for FHE. I also remember getting up early to read scriptures and pray as a family. I think doing all of these activities did bring us closer together after we all grew up, but now it is the reason I don't want to talk to them, and why I have such a heavy heart and anxiety. I don't know, maybe putting it off is making it worse?

Anway, I went to four years of seminary, every EFY event I could go to, church dances, I wrote in my journal, I played piano in RS, Primary, YW, sacrament, and while on my mission. I was as Mormon as I could possibly be. I wasn't perfect at doing everything right, as is expected, but I put as much of myself into it as I could. Which leads me to Paul H. Dunn.

I remember hearing about Paul H. Dunn (though I didn't know the GA's name at the time, I had heard about his talks not being exactly truthful) when I was younger and subconsciously decided to believe everything to a certain extent, but I always left room for doubt. One day I was pondering this truthfulness in talks after a nice day at church hearing inspiring talks. I decided that it was possible they weren't completely true, so I would leave room for doubt. They were probably mostly true anyway. Then I remember thinking, "I'll even leave room for doubt about the church. That way, if it's false, I won't be so broken up about it. But, of course, it is true, so I don't need to really, but just in case..." Then I stopped thinking about it and went about my day. Dang I'm good at compartmentalizing.

I was/am a people pleaser and didn't like confrontation. I didn't want attention unless I specifically asked for it, so, growing up, I didn't ever really participate in gospel discussions unless I didn't have to "debate" them. I think this part of myself is part of my problem today. I don't know how to stand on my own because I haven't ever really had to do it. And I don't want to close any options. I picture myself sitting on cement, surrounded by several pools of water unable to swim or even dip my toes into any of them because I might find out too late that I chose wrong. Or that it closes me off to other options. So, I just sit having lots of options, but never choosing.

And yet another

2007-02-22T15:37:00.000-08:00

Oh, and I sneeze really loud. I can't sneeze softly or daintily. It's not a problem if I am at home or only sneeze once or twice. But when I am in public and I can't stop sneezing and I get a headache from it, then it's a problem.

Man, I can hear my sneezes echo up and down the school hallway....

Tagged - 6 Weird Things/Experiences

2007-02-21T22:49:00.000-08:00

Freckle Face Girl tagged me on Tuesday, so I get to think of 6 more weird things about myself. Thanks FFG!

*I decided to change the title because Gluby pointed out that some of the weird things I posted are more experiences I had than personality quirks. :)

It takes an exceptionally long time for anesthesia to work on me, but when it does, it works! This weird thing goes along with the next one as well.

The anesthesiologist who gave me my epidural when my first son was born is the only person I still want to curse to this day. Arrogant son of...anyway. He gave me the initial shot in my spine to numb the spot where they would insert the catheter for the epidural. It takes a long time for anesthesia to work on me, as already stated, but he wouldn't stop and listen to me. So, when he shoved, yes shoved, the catheter in my back, it was as if he hadn't given me anything to numb my back at all. Then he yelled at me for moving, pushed me back into the hunched position, and continued to shove and manipulate the catheter into place. I almost fainted.

I had the baby and everything went well, except that I couldn't walk for a long time. I gave birth at 10:00 PM and still couldn't walk at 6:00 AM. The nurse finally had me lean on her so I could go to the bathroom. I almost fainted again and I had to have 2 nurses pull me back to my bed. Talk about fun.

I hate the phrase "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

When I was 8 I had 4 permanent teeth pulled. They had a lot of patients to see that day and couldn't wait for the anesthesia to work. They gave me shots, gas, and something else. Nothing worked because I could still feel them working on my teeth. So they gave me more shots. Finally they just had to start working. My mother was in the waiting room and could hear me screaming the whole time. After they were finally done torturing me, the dentist had the gall to pat me on the back and say, "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I glared at him and, with all the dignity I could muster, painstaking muttered "Yeth." It wasn't until the next morning that I could feel my mouth and tongue completely again.

At the age of 8 I almost had to have my leg amputated.

My family and I were making our own sand box and I ended up slicing two of my toes on a garden hoe. I got 8 or 10 stitches and didn't walk for a week. When we returned to the doctor's office he said that there was an infection that had made it's way up the top of my calf muscle and that if I didn't start walking on it they would have to amputate my leg. I'm not sure if that was just a scare tactic or if that was really the only option, but it worked. I have never felt pain like that before, but talk about walking on pins and needles.

I have a bad nervous habit.

I pull on my eyelashes and eyebrows. When I am stressed I pull them a lot. A few times I have pulled them enough that I have bare spots on my eyebrows.

I can't wear contacts or get lasik

I have dry eye syndrome. I found out about it on my mission, but I didn't know what it was called because I forgot what the Italian eye doctor told me. She just said not to wear my contacts until after I got home from my mission. I get home and find out that I basically have to wear glasses for the rest of my life.

I have/had hypothyroiditis.

I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis when I was 11 or 12. I was supposed to take synthetic thyroid pills for the rest of my life. When I was 18 my family and I started going to the Myotherapy College of Utah and I started taking some kind of organic thyroid pill and eventually (about 18 months later) was able to wean myself off of them. I still have to take them every once in awhile when my body is just way too taxed, but I haven't had to take them daily since then.

I didn't tag anyone else the last time I was tagged, but I am not going to be so nice this time. I'm going to tag Jer (maybe this will inspire him to post again soon!), Amber, Supernova, and Michelle. If you have already done this tag, or don't want everyone knowing just how weird you are, then write about the 6 most memorable moments from your life. Or you could just ignore me and I'll cry over here in the corner. Sniffle.

Dam it

2007-02-16T22:45:00.000-08:00

Like the tide of the ocean, I feel there is an ebb and flow to life. Sometimes the lapping of the waves is refreshing and invigorating, while at other times it is insistent and overwhelming. The emotions I feel right now have this same ebb and flow, and at times seem to take over my life. When it feels that the sadness, anxiety, anger, confusion, or pain will push through the protective wall I have built around them so I can continue to function in life, I start to crash. Sometimes I am able to slowly let something out to ease the pressure building up inside and deal with little bits here and there, but other times it seems everyone and everything else around me must suffer. Gluby, my kids, my house, my schoolwork. Me. I wonder, if I just let the dam break, would I really be able to recover myself, or would I break as well?

Good, Good, Good, Good Vibrations

2007-02-13T11:45:00.000-08:00

Today, we are going to talk about sex. And, no, you have not been magically transported over to T.Wanker's Mormon Erotica blog, though he probably knows more about this stuff than my professor does. :)

Last Tuesday's topic in my women history class was Victorian Sexuality: Hysteria, Surgery, and the Vibrator. I felt this information was important for the eternities, so I must be a member missionary and teach those who may not know.

Female hysteria was the diagnosis for 25% of women during the 1800s when they had an ailment with no explainable cause. It had 75 possible symptoms and was found mostly in middle class white women (lower class women suffering the same symptoms were told it was caused by fatigue or sensuality). Some of the early treatments for hysteria were: injections of chemicals, milk, water or tea into the uterus; cauterizing the uterine cavity; leeching (one had to be very careful to ensure none of the leeches made their way too far north); and, eventually surgery, such as clitoridectomy (removal of the skin hood above the clitoris) and ovaritomy (removal of ovaries).

I was angry at the doctors at first, and am still upset at the cultural norms which created this sort of thinking. But, my professor pointed out that many of these doctors were trying new desperate measures to help desperate women, so I can't hate them completely.

Ok, let's move on to more pleasurable treatments for hysteria, the "hysterical paroxysm." It was found that if women had a paroxysm (clinical word for orgasm), that they felt better, so doctors would manually massage the vulvar area of their hysteria patients. Doctors found it often took awhile to, um, complete treatment and that they had a lot of patients to help. They were relieved when the vibrator was created by a British doctor in the 1880s in response to the overwhelming number of women receiving "manual hysterical paroxysms."

Soon, these large machines were downsized and sold in reputable women's magazines, like Sears and Roebuck. One of the ads my professor read in class goes something like this: "Aids that every women appreciates. It will make youth throb within you."

They continued to be advertised in such magazines until they started being used in erotic films in the 1920s, and then they were seen as dirty, sensual, and bad. They have been playing peek-a-boo in our culture ever since. They are actually illegal in some states, such as Alabama. Men can use viagra, but women can't buy a vibrator? Sure, that makes perfect sense.

JOOM, do I get Brimstone points for teaching others about sinful devices?

Trying to fit a square block into a round pipe

2007-02-10T20:30:00.000-08:00

Don't try it, it doesn't work.

We moved into this rental house (pretty decent overall) last October and noticed a few minor problems, but nothing we couldn't live with. One of the problems was the loose drain cover over the pipe in our shower. (I bet most of you know what's going to happen next.)

A couple of months ago I took M in the shower with me and grabbed a lego (one of the larger one's for 1-year olds) and a couple of other good toys that could get wet. I decided to leave the toys in the shower for next time and didn't think about it again. I have no idea when or how it found its way into the pipe, but a couple of weeks ago our shower started filling up with water at an alarming rate. I used two bottles of Liquid Plumber, but that didn't work, so the rental agency had a plumber come out and take a look. He realized something was inside the pipe when the snake he was using to clear the pipe wouldn't move deeper into it. We found the culprit after finally finding a flashlight that worked.

The lego was stuck at the area of the pipe where it turns, so there was no fear of it moving further down the pipe, but it was already 10 inches down. He said they'd have to have another plumber come out, climb under the house, and cut out the pipe. Ugh. The rental agency said that we would be the ones to pay for it. I said I'd talk with Gluby and call them back.

All of this happened on Wednesday and Thursday. Fast forward to Saturday. After spending $15 at Jerry's buying two-sided adhesive tape for carpet, carpet glue, and a 24 inch claw type thingy (I know, very technical of me), spending two hours trying to figure out how to use these things, and calling our friend Aaron to get other ideas, Gluby saved the day. He found my metal music stand (which I never use), took it apart, heated it up with a fire in our fireplace, and melted the lego. He did this 4 or 5 times. The last time he did it he left it in the lego to cool off and pull out the lego. Here are photos of his handy work.

If they only knew..

2007-02-06T11:35:00.000-08:00

I happened upon the Feminine Mormon Housewives blog a couple of years back and found that I felt at home among the frequenters because of their recognition of certain issues within the church. It was the only connection I felt I had to non-TBM conversation (besides Gluby, but I wasn't ready to talk to him about it yet). I eventually used to check there several times a day before I found my new blog family. Now I often get frustrated by the open talk of cognitive dissonance they live with to be able to go to church (Mostly because I am still trying to deal with mine).

Every once in awhile I stop by Feminist Mormon Housewives to see if there is anything new and of interest to me. This is a post from Sunday.

The chapel doors seem to say to me….

By: Guest - February 4, 2007

by Patti,

Tonight while we were singing “The Chapel Doors,” one of my youngsters was playing with a “pirate island” toy. When you push down the toy’s button, a mangy pirate voice yells out one-liners like, “HANDS OFF ME GOLD!” and “X MARKS THE SPOT!”

Well, as we were singing, the button got pushed at the just the right (wrong?) moment and this is what could be heard:

“The Chapel Doors seem to say to me….. aarrrggghh! THERE’S NO ESCAPE!”

If they only knew the true irony here....

Da, da, da, da!!

2007-02-03T15:39:00.000-08:00

Ok, you asked for it, so here it is. A photo of..me! This was taken a few days after I got my hair whacked. Though it doesn't really look much like JOOM's hair, I did use her photo when I went in to get it cut.

I also decided to take this time to out my kids as well, so here they are. S is on the left coloring a fish we are going to catch using magnets. Thanks to his Aunt, who sent them a nice craft box for Christmas, we have lots of options for the fish (a fish with glitter glue and feathers?! Ok, why not.)

M is the one on the right. He is holding an "M" that we painted at one of those paint-you-own pottery places. He absolutely loves that thing and is always asking to hold it. I just hope we don't break it!

So, Bishop Rick, here you are. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!!

**photos were taken down because of threatening anonymous stalkers **

Where the Spirit Lives

2007-01-25T13:54:00.000-08:00

I am at school right now and really need to be studying, but I have so much on my mind that I wouldn't be able to study even if I tried. All I could think was "I really need to blog about this," knowing that it would help me at least arrange my thoughts in some sort of order.

This term I am taking two history classes, 19th century Europe and the history of women in the US from 1800 to the present. I didn't really expect them to be so difficult for me emotionally, but I have found some of the material very..... difficult to keep inside.

I used to relate everything to the church, as many of you did as well, but I do so now with a different eye. When reading about this happening in the US or Europe in 1820 or 1830, I wonder who might have influenced JS at this time and how that affected the shaping of the church. Anyway, I started to have an anxiety attack when I was reading "A History of Private Life" for my European class and it mentioned Evangelicalism. These are some of the quotes I read which pain me now as I think of the grief, fear, and inadequacy I lived with but didn't even realize where there or why they were there.

"The Evangelical message focused on sin, guilt, and the possibilities of redemption" (pg 51)

"They could struggle for a truly religious way of life that would involve breaking all old habits, examining critically every individual and social act, and reflecting on the Christian meaning of every thought and practice." (pg 51)

"It aimed at the transformation of the individual self, the becoming of a new person in Christ. This required powerful supports - an internal system of checks... and also external supports from the clergy and others among the faithful who could assist in the ceaseless struggle to live as a new soul. Such a struggle involved the endless minutiae of daily life: relations with family, friends... servants, giving and taking of orders, eating of meals.... leisure pursuits.... whether at work or at home... God was watching and listening, and those all-seeing and all-hearing eyes and ears had to become the internal conscience." (pg 51)

"It was necessary to scrutinize every aspect of human behavior. A real Christian had to live a spiritual life every minute, every hour, every day, and every year; every action every thought had to be judged within the eternal scheme." (pg 51)

"The renunciation of self was vital... the heart must be surrendered to holy obedience, the will trained to submission." (pg 52)

I kept thinking while reading this "in losing myself in Christ, I find myself," "repentance is something done daily as we never know when we will be kneeling in front of God's (or Christ's, or Joseph Smith's or President Hinckley's or whoever will be judging us - never was clear on that one) judgment seat," "every action is preceded by a thought, so every thought must be celestial so that I may be celestial," etc.

So then I go to my US women's history class where we watch a film called Where the Spirit Lives. It is a story about the life of Native American children who were sent to schools to learn to live like "real human beings, not the savages they are." It was so sad to see the main character taken from her home, as so many young children were, sent to a school where they looked down on them, told them their heritage was savage and sinful, and were taught what was really important in life.

** Spoiler**

For anyone who may want to watch this movie and they don't want to know the end, stop reading now.

Ok, so there were lots of sad parts, but in the end the main character was able to escape the Anglican school and return home with her brother. Not many of the children were able to do this. Most children had to endure or die. And I know many of them did, whether by suicide or maltreatment at the school. Amelia was able to retain who she was and realize what she believed and what was important to her. It was so disheartening, saddening, and maddening to see how many good people could do so much harm and damage, all the while believing, truly believing they were doing what was right. Life is so complicated.

I have spent so much of my life trying to deny who I was and trying to fulfill a role that I am just now beginning to discover, or recover, who I am. In denying people the opportunity to be themselves we create so much misery, especially when we tell them it is horribly sinful and wrong and they'll go to hell for it. I know there has to be a line, someone who wants to kill people must not be allowed to, I won't deny that. Just that not being free to explore who we are and be ok with who we are is wrong.

Fly Away

2007-01-21T20:31:00.000-08:00

I love friends. I love real friends who like me for who I am and not what religion I belong to. I love knowing that someone wants to be with me because they chose to, not because they feel obligated to. I especially love it when those friends live close by. Since I started this blog I have been wanting to write about one of my dearest friends because I want everyone to know what a wonderful person she is, and how much she has helped me over this last year. So this post is dedicated to you, A.

A and I met met a couple of years ago while I was pregnant with M. I had started feeling really nervous about having two kids and still staying sane and had been wanting to talk with someone who already had more than one. I was walking outside of our house and saw A getting out of her car with her two kids. I really wanted to ask her what was hard about having two kids, what was easy, and how she did it. So I went over, introduced myself and asked away. She was really sweet and answered my questions, but we only spoke for a few moments because she needed to be on her way. I always looked for her car whenever I went outside after that, but I didn't ever run into her again outside my house.

Fast forward to around March of 2006 where we met up again at the park across from my house. We both must have been going stir crazy, because hardly anyone else was ever at the park, but it gave us the perfect opportunity to really open up to each other. We were both in going through very difficult times: her dealing with her marriage and mine with religion (which also included my marriage at the time). Though we never planned it, we ran into each other often over a short period of time and talked a lot. And listened a lot. Our oldest sons soon because fast friends and her son invited us over to their house. I was secretly delighted because I had been hoping to take our friendship past the "running into each other at the park" phase, but didn't know how do do it.

This past year has seen a lot of changes in both of our lives, and if it weren't for her I have no clue how I would have handled things. Before I started questioning my faith I would have testified that God sent her to me to help me through this trying time. I am no longer sure whether he exists, so now I just consider myself lucky as hell to have met her.

We took our boys to the Cascade Raptor Center today and were able to see hawks, raptors, owls, and vultures which had been rescued but were no longer able to survive out in the wild. They were amazing to watch and see up close. But the most beautiful part of the outing was the rare experience of watching rescued hawks being released back into the wild. Watching those amazing creatures take flight again after having been hit by cars reminded me of me, and everyone else going through similarly difficult circumstances. I feel like I have been hit by something huge and am wounded, but I started to feel hope in healing and of someday finding strength enough to fly. To add to the emotion and sweetness of the moment, the woman releasing one of the hawks dedicated it to her sister, who had died just over a week ago from a 9 month battle with brain cancer. A and I both had tears in our eyes.

A, you have helped me overcome so much and realize so much about myself. You have given me a safe place to fall when I felt there was none. Thank you A, for everything!!!!

Just lay it all out there

2007-01-20T13:52:00.000-08:00

Ha, I love hearing my oldest child run wildly down the hallway for the bathroom, slam the bathroom door shut, fling the toilet seat up, all the while hearing his feet hit the floor as he is doing the pee-pee dance. You gotta love it!

Ok, I have been avoiding this long enough. I have no idea how much sense this will make because I have had so much on my mind lately. So, please forgive me if I am all over the place and nothing makes sense.

I don't know how much my family knows, but I do know that they have some idea of my inactivity. Our youngest son is 18 months, so he should be in nursery by now. I remember talking with my sisters about how weird it was when S was almost 18 months, and talking with them about the strangeness or difficulties which occurred when their kids were put in nursery. No one has mentioned it. That, for my family, is weird. Gospel discussion was part of our daily life. We would always talk about church stuff in one way or another. The fact that I just don't talk about it anymore is very telling. When they mention something about the church, I just listen but I don't really add to the conversation much, except where I feel I can and need to so I can avoid something I'm not ready for. No one is bringing up the fact that I don't talk about it because no one wants to hear me say that I haven't gone to church, though they must suspect something. And I am not ready to say it. I'm not ready to face the torrential storm of emotions they will feel and I will feel.

My younger sister called today and we were just chatting about life. She is pregnant with her third and was released as the compassionate service leader (this is someone who sets up meals or help for families in need within the ward) because her pregnancies can often be difficult. They asked her to teach every third Sunday instead. She said, "I don't know if you know the prophet we are learning about this year, but it's Spencer W. Kimball." This is quite telling. She would never say that unless she knew something was up.

I feel anxious about this. I feel a need to "know" something. But having lived how I have I find it difficult to make decisions. I learned how to compartmentalize and live with cognitive dissonance for 30 years and I am finding it hard to change that. I have read about President Hinckley's couplet, Brigham Young's ideas of the moon, yet also stating that every sermon he preached was doctrine, the three first vision accounts, the changing of the unchangeable temple ceremony, and much more (sorry, I couldn't link it to the quotes specifically, so you'll need to search on the page that is brought up if you want to see them). Yet I still doubt what I have read. I still feel something inside not willing to say, "It's wrong." Why, why, why? Why can't I just get it? I feel split in half. Half of me believes what I have read and feels free to move around, but then there is another part of me that still feels mormony in some way and can't let go.

I have done a lot of crying, wailing, and throwing things these last few days. In fact, I almost went out to chop some wood, I just didn't have the energy to get up off the floor. I felt so much anger, sadness, anxiety, and hopelessness that I had nothing left.

I hope I make it through this, whatever it is.

Great and Spacious Tower

2007-01-16T23:05:00.000-08:00

You are The Tower

Ambition, fighting, war, courage. Destruction, danger, fall, ruin.

The Tower represents war, destruction, but also spiritual renewal. Plans are disrupted. Your views and ideas will change as a result.

The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." You have been shaken up; blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Happy Marter Luthen King Day!

2007-01-15T10:30:00.000-08:00

Gluby woke up at 8:20 this morning and, since I am still sick, he got S ready for school. M was still asleep so all was well in the house as I tried to go back to sleep. About 20 minutes later I hear Gluby and S return home and I thought, "Hm, maybe there is a school delay because it's too cold or icy or something."

Soon I heard M clamoring in their bedroom and Gluby asked S to go keep him company until he could go get him. I figured I must have fallen asleep because I didn't remember Gluby getting up to go get M out of his crib, yet he was walking around the house. Later, Gluby came in and asked me if I took M out of the crib. I said, "No, didn't you?" "No." "Oh, good. Does that mean he did it himself? Ugh." It turns out that our 4.5 year old decided he was old enough to help pull his brother out. That is so much better than M getting out on his own!

Anyway, about 20 minutes after they got home S asked me if I wanted the door closed because everyone was up and about. I said he could leave it open and, by the way, why wasn't he at school? He said, "Papa said that it's Ma(mumble) Lu(mumble) King Day."

Me: "Ah, it's Martin Luther King Day? Ok."

Then I hear, "Papa, I told Mama that it's Ma(mumble) Lu(mumble) King Day!"

Gluby: "It's pronounced Martin Luther King Day, S."

He then ran back to our room and said, "It's Marter Luthen King Day, Mama!"

Me: "It is?"

S: "Yup."

Me: "Ok, thanks"

So, on this special day I want to wish you all a Happy Marter Luthen King Day!

And, if you haven't taken the time to listen to any of his speeches, here is a website that has his speeches on audio file. I have only heard two, I have a Dream and I've been to the Mountain Top, but they are amazing. I actually cried listening to the Mountain Top speech.

Hugs

2007-01-12T15:18:00.000-08:00

I was reading through my favorite blogs today (don't worry, if I didn't/don't post a comment on your site today it doesn't mean you aren't included in "my favorite blogs" list. I just didn't have time to comment on all of them!) and started to feel a wave of emotion and gratitude to you all. Your blogs have helped me in more ways than I can express and I want to say thank you to everyone out in the blogosphere. Your support and friendship mean so much to me. Thank you!

Love to you all and a hope for a happier present and future!

Love,
LB

How Do You Rate as a Girl?

2007-01-12T14:26:00.000-08:00

This term I am taking a US Women's History class and, in reading one of the assigned texts, I came across this quote from a 1960 issue of Seventeen magazine.

How Do You Rate as a Girl?

1. Do you wait for a boy to open a car door, even though you both know you are quite capable of managing it yourself?

2. Do you listen responsively to a story you have heard before rather than squash the pleasure of the boy who is telling it?

3. If you are going to the movies with another girl, do you look presentable enough to cope with an unexpected encounter?

4. If you bureau drawers or closets were open to view without warning, could you stand the inspection without apologies?

5. In a serious discussion which includes both sexes, can you keep form being overpowering even though you know a great deal on the subject?

6. If a boy forgets his manners, can you restrain yourself from correcting him?

7. Are you able to refused a kiss without hurting a boy's pride and sending him home in a huff?

8. If that special boy told you he liked your long hair, would you keep it long to please him?

9. Have you the courage to be nice to a boy whom the other girls consider to be a bore?

10. In stores, are you apt to moon over pretty lingerie and perfume?

Scoring: Seven or more yeses: you are a veritable flower of femininity! Five to seven yeses: there are a few thorns. Under five: ouch!

Wow, um, can you say propaganda? There is a quote from "The Secret of Being Feminine." For Teen Only, February 1963:

"You can and should pursue your own interests and always do your best, but not to the disadvantage of that boy in your life, whether he be your date, your steady or someday....your husband."

So go out and be yourself! Just do it inside this little box we have made for you. It reminded me of being at a CES fireside when I was 23 and one of the apostles (I don't remember which one) said that there are too many aggressive women out there and that we need women who are courageous enough to be soft, compassionate, nurturing, welcoming, and feminine. I decided right there that I wanted to be those things. I would be those things.

Just like American culture encouraged females to be who they are, but to do so within the provided box, Mormon culture says to be yourself as long as you have and develop certain qualities.

It's nice, right now anyway, to be free from the box and just be me.

You too can be happy, clean, and obedient!

2007-01-08T03:50:00.000-08:00

Gluby and I had a friend over for dinner tonight and they made some wonderful Tom Yum soup. (I love not having to cook!) After we were done eating we moved to the living room and chatted for a couple of hours. I remember looking at the clock at 11:01 and thinking that I was feeling sleepy. The next thing I know my pillow, Gluby's lap, was moving. I complained that my pillow had moved and Gluby suggested that it would be more comfortable if I went to sleep on the bed. I decided to take Gluby's advice and headed off to bed while they went to the office to do stuff with the computer. By the time I got to the bedroom I was wide awake, and here I am at almost 4:00 AM, still awake. Ugh.

Anyway, I spent some of my time reading blogs and basically wasting time on my laptop in bed. Around 2 I decided to take a look at the newest Friend magazine. I read two different stories whose main characters were little boys named Matthew (shows originality of thought, you know?), how the Holy Ghost helps us to feel good when we help others (because we can't feel it by our carnal, natural selves), and what a "happy, clean, and obedient boy" Spencer W. Kimball was. It seems Kimball spent all of his free time learning the scriptures, singing hymns, and running off to Primary. But, he is just a normal little boy, as, you see, he also loved to squirt milk from the cow into the cat's mouths during the milking! What a little rascal!

I am not sorry that I have started hiding the Friend and Ensign magazines from our children. I haven't tossed the last few because I want to read them with open, non-emotional eyes and see what I think. Things are not looking up for the church.

Sigh

2006-12-29T01:04:00.000-08:00

I haven't really felt like posting anything of substance because I just want it all to go away. If I don't think or write about it maybe it won't "be." Oh well. Maybe tomorrow I'll deal with it.

I did finally get the motivation to put new links in my "blogs of interest" section (funny how avoiding the more substantive issues gets so many other things done). Let me know if I linky-linked you (thanks for the expression Sideon!) and you want to be taken off, or if I didn't linky-link you and you would like me to do so.

You're a Mama, I'm a Mama, Whoa Mama!

2006-12-26T20:36:00.000-08:00

Ah, kids are so adorable sometimes. Today has definitely been one of those times. Though I really wanted to go to Boise for the holidays, we had a really nice, fun, relaxing time here at home. It's been nice to watch the boys play with their new toys and to be able to interact with them more because I'm not a mess, wishing I was somewhere that I can not be.

As I was putting the boys down for bed, our oldest was teasing me and saying, "Mama, you're a mother! No, you're a boy! I'm a Mama!" He sounded so cute saying it. He just knew he was hilarious, which of course then made it so. And our youngest, who just turned 18 months, decided to pour himself a cup of rice milk and looked thoroughly surprised when it spilled all over the table. "Hey, it doesn't do that when Mama pours it!" He looked so taken aback when it happened that I just laughed and helped him clean it up.

Sigh. This is one of those days when you are glad to be a mother. Which is good because two days ago I about throttled the 18 month old when he took four hours to go to sleep. AAAGGHH! At least he was cute about it, but, man did it ruin my night. Fortunately for everyone involved, the good and bad days are usually somewhat interspersed.

Gluby is the best! I have wanted to learn how to belly dance since I was 20 and have mentioned this off and on for the last year. I told him once again how I wish I could take a belly dancing class after having talked with a friend whose gym offers different dance/exercise classes where belly dancing is one of them. (Gasp! That was a long sentence.) I thought nothing of it until later when he mentioned that I would be getting a surprise in the mail soon. Well, I am not patient when it comes to surprises so I tortured it out of him. He bought a belly dancing DVD for me for Christmas (which is huge because he is such a grinch). It arrived a few days ago and I have been doing it almost daily. It came with a CD full of belly dancing music which I love. It's calming yet invigorating.

Anyway, if you ladies out there think going from garments to panties is sexy, you should try belly dancing. Whoa. And it'll drive your man crazy! Trust me.

Tag, You're It

2006-12-23T12:44:00.000-08:00

I was tagged on SML's blog a couple of weeks ago, and think I have finally come up with some stuff about me which border on weird.

I have very vivid dreams. The kind where you fall from a sky scraper, land on the ground, lay there aching wondering if you're going to die, and then wake up unable to move for 5 minutes. The kind where you fight a dragon and physically feel every strike from its stinging, scorpion-like tail (I had this dream a lot for about 10 years). The kind where you strangle your spouse at night because you think a box spring is going to fall on top of you both, pushing you and the three cats out of the house and instantly killing everyone. I have since realized that stress makes me more likely to act out (sleepwalking, and, um, sleepchoking) during my dreams and Gluby has learned to live with fear while sleeping.

I don't know if I have ever admitted this to Gluby or not, but I, like Floating in the Milk, like the smell of cigarettes. Not only that, but I can differentiate between four distinct scents when it comes to cigarettes. I have no idea whether it has to do with the brand, or plant variety, or processing, or what. I have been tempted several times to ask people what kind of cigarette they are smoking and see if I can eventually start to guess the brand just by the smell. I have high aspirations, as you can see.

SML's mentioning her fear of ocean water reminded me of my water fear. I don't mind swimming in the shark infested waters off of Hawaii; just don't make me swim in murky, fish infested lake waters. Now that is scary. Every time I swam at Lucky Peak Reservoir in Idaho I seriously thought something was going to bite me. I knew there had to be a small shark lurking in the water where no one could see him and that he was going to bite me.

When I married Gluby I was afraid his three cats would get more attention than I would in our marriage. Yes, I will say it. I was jealous of his cats. (He is quite affectionate of them.) So I told him that I didn't want them sleeping in the same bed with us, but I didn't tell him I was jealous of them. When I finally realized that they would not take my place I consented to their presence on our bed. Now we can't seem to get them off of it. They are present no matter what we do on the bed.

I went to massage therapy school 10 years ago. I was even an LMT (licensed massage therapist) in Utah and worked at a couple of places. I hated doing it for money, but loved helping people feel better. When Gluby found out I went to massage school he was really excited. Unfortunately, he has only ever received one full body massage in almost 7 years of marriage. Gluby is the one who massages my back, or feet, or head. Poor Gluby!

As some of you know, Gluby was in the Marines. There is a certain “motivated bark” that Marines do, which Gluby has perfected. I absolutely love to hear his Marine bark -- especially since I can't do it; I sound like a macho yippie dog. I go through phases where I ask him to bark all the time. He has even taught our oldest son how to do it just for me. I just love it!

Ok, I know that those last two entries aren't all that weird, so I'll tell you one weird thing about me and Gluby.

We often sing together as if we are in a musical. Gluby and I were in the BSU LDS Institute choir together for almost a year, and while we were dating we loved doing musical things together. So, ever since, we constantly improvise music, sometimes absent-mindedly. At times, it can get quite obnoxious. For example, he was reading about China and then began singing Handel's Messiah, but instead of “Hallelujah” he sang “Mao Zedong.” Over. And over. And over. I still hear it sometimes today, seven years later, though he's usually finding other things to set the music to (most recently, “Fiddley Gomme” since the unusual name of Pete's blog has gotten stuck in his head). But WORST of all, he was picking on me about my supposed fastidiousness and penchant for spreadsheets one day and began singing “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music, except he was singing, “Anal wife, anal wife, clean the kitchen forever.” Obnoxious. I answered, “Lazy husband, lazy husband, get your butt out of the bed.” This kind of stuff is constantly going on.

Reached Capacity

2006-12-20T12:40:00.000-08:00

Thanks for all of the comments everyone! I seriously never thought anyone besides Gluby would even look at this, so it is a very pleasant surprise.

I haven't forgotten about Outerblogness (or that I have been tagged!). Had a lot going on lately and haven't had the emotional or mental capacity to post. I hope to do so in the next day or two.

Panty Day?

2006-12-14T00:36:00.000-08:00

December 12, 2006, will be forever remembered as “Panty Day” in our house, whether I like it or not.

As some of you may have read from Gluby's exuberant comments on other blogs, we ordered some new underwear for me a couple of weeks ago. The whole situation actually started about two months ago when Gluby asked:

G: Honey, when do you think you'll stop wearing your garments?

LB: Probably when I am ready to realize that the church isn't true and that I no longer want to be a member. Why?

G: Just wondering. I hate those things. (He pauses for a moment.) Hey, what size do you wear?

LB: I have no idea, I haven't bought any for over 10 years. (Now it's my turn to pause.) No, you are not going to buy them for me. I am perfectly capable of buying myself underwear.

G: I'll even take the boys so they won't be in your hair. It'll be fun!

LB: Yes, I'm sure it will. (sigh) I can see it now. “Hey, son, what do you think of this pair of underwear for Mama?” And you'll probably come home with thongs. Yah, that's what I want to do, go from total coverage to anal floss. No thanks, I'll go buy myself my own underwear.

Three weeks later I get an instant message on my laptop from Gluby in the other room while I am studiously (ah, right) preparing for an upcoming geology final exam.

G: Hey, honey, check out this porn!

LB: Excuse me?

G: Take a look at the link I just sent. (It's a link to Victoria's Secret web page filled with semi-anorexic, airbrushed women modeling shockingly small, vibrantly colored underwear.)

LB: Um, thanks. I wanted to look at half naked women. How'd you know?

G: What color do you want?

LB: Hm, I didn't know they were selling the women, but any color is fine with me as long as she's the housewife.

G: Very nice, dear. What color of underwear do you want?

I protest that now isn't the time, I'm studying, I haven't decided about church stuff yet, blah, blah, blah. But, when Gluby is excited about something it takes a bulldozer to get him to change direction.

So, we spent the next two hours picking out colors and types of underwear. The order form gave the approximate arrival date as the 16^th of December. He hated to wait so long, but he was excited and even wrote “PANTY DAY!” in big, bold letters on the calendar. On Tuesday (yesterday), I had just gotten home from taking our oldest out for a special “mama date” when I saw the mailbox overflowing with envelopes and what could only be panty packages. Gluby was so thrilled he had me try them on right away. It was like Christmas Day at our house yesterday. (And he is a super-grinch when it comes to holidays.)

The ironic thing is that, the very next morning, his sister sent us some pictures of the cookies she and her fiancee made last night. “Butt cookies” with underwear frosting. Nice.

We had a good laugh, especially since she is in Canada, had no idea about the whole underwear thing in the first place (no one did), and has never done anything of the sort before. It was a total random coincidence.

I did keep a pair of the new undies on the rest of the day and even wore them all day today. It feels really weird physically. Not as much bulk under my jeans, no elastic that goes up to my ribcage, no material to keep my thighs from rubbing together when I wear a dress without nylons, no pulling up my jeans to put the garments back in their place.

I am not sure how I feel about it emotionally yet. I feel like this whole experience is happening in a movie and at the end I'll turn it off, go to bed, and wake up to read scriptures with my family (not that we have done that in the last 5 years, but a girl can dream).

In fact, this morning Gluby asked me if I was still wearing them. I said yes. I did warn him, though, that I might not keep them on all day. He nodded understandingly and said that no matter what underwear I choose to wear right now, it is fine and he is proud of me for everything I have faced over the last few months -- although I think it may be more accurate to describe it as a painstakingly-avoided-until-I-can-no-longer-ignore-it kind of facing.

Personally, I think he's just trying to get me out of my new panties.

Opening Night

2006-12-09T22:58:00.000-08:00

I am going to start off my blog the way so many others have by saying that I have no idea how to start this thing, so I'll just go for it and hope I don't trip on my way onto the stage.

I am a recovering(?) mormon who spent 30 years in the church. I was born and raised in it and thought I would be "faithful" until the day I died. I pictured myself as a chink in the eternal chain of happiness, surrounded by my husband, children, ancestors, and progenitors. Then, in July of 2001, my world collapsed around me as my husband, Gluby, told me he was having doubts about the church. The last five or so years have been the steepest, deepest roller coaster ride I have ever been on in my life.

After hundreds, seems like thousands, of deep, difficult conversations with Gluby, in the vast majority of which I was reserved, withdrawn and silently angry, I have finally started to peek through my eyelids at the world around me and have been astounded at what I have found. I will eventually post more about all of that stuff, but for right now I will keep things short. I have this desire to write everything down right now, but that would be way too long for an introduction and I don't think anyone would be able to understand my scattered thoughts.

Anyway, I have spent the last three-and-a-half years working on my undergrad stuff and raising children while Gluby was in law school. I am finally a junior, but I haven't been able to figure out my major yet as I want to be a geologist, volcanologist, sociologist, and/or an anthropologist. I still feel like I am in High School wondering what I want to be when I grow up.