Thanks for Letting Me In

A few years ago, I was sitting in church when a newly ordained priest was saying the sacrament prayer for the first time. He kept making mistakes and having to start over. After about the fourth time, I noticed that the woman sitting next to me was pounding her fist and saying, "Come on! Come on!"

Now, this woman is one of those that's always dressed to the nines and demands perfection from everyone around her. You would understandably think that she was angry and frustrated that the sacrament was taking so long.

But a few weeks earlier she had told me about her son who had a horrible stuttering problem and how it would just be agonizing for her to see him suffer through trying to say the sacrament prayer.

She wasn't angry or frustrated. She was sympathizing and her heart was aching for this young man and his struggles that she knew oh so well.

When he finally got through the prayer, she grabbed my hand and smiled at me.

Now I smile thinking of her and how grateful I am that she let me into her life, so that I could better understand her and in turn, better understand all those around me. Thank you.

Leslie J. is My Hero

Leslie J. is so awesome, she makes me look past the fact that she used to be a cheerleader in high school (Leslie J.: "I was a cheerleader." C. Jane: "You were a cheerleader? You know what that means, don't you?" Leslie J.: "Yeah, that I'm peppy and full of spirit!" C. Jane: "No, that you're easy." -- oh, C. Jane you are also my hero) and was part of student council in college (BYUSSR -- oh, I mean BYUSA).

Anyway, Leslie J. is Jeffrey's primary teacher.

You've got to understand, Jeffrey HATES church. We would have to get him dressed while he was sleeping or he would catch on that it's Sunday. We would physically restrain him in the car and then literally drag him into the building. He would stick out his arms and legs and grip on to the door jamb and it would take both me and Nigel to pry him off and stick him in his chair.

After a while, we just gave up and let him stay home. Every week that Jeffrey missed church, Leslie J. would mail a note that she missed him (not hand deliver, not e-mail, but sit down and write a message, put it in an envelope, and mail it off).

After a few weeks, Jeffrey started going to church, just to see his teacher (Of course, it also helps that Leslie J. is totally gorgeous and all the boys in her class are in love with her). It's so great that Leslie J. speaks to her class like real people and is genuinely happy to see them each week.

One day while watching "Veggie Tales," Jeffrey turned to me and said, "You know what, Mom? I believe in God." What??? Is this the same boy that drew a picture of the temple on his poster of "Things I Hate" in preschool?

The icing on the cake was Stake Conference (known in our house as "let's sleep in Sunday"). Of course, I had to go to the adult session Saturday night because Leslie J. was speaking (she did awesome). I also went to the Sunday session and asked if any of the kids wanted to go. Frances and Alice-Grace declined, but Jeffrey piped up that he wanted to go. He sat through two hours of church, sang along with the songs, drew pictures of the people that spoke and at the end of the meeting, he turned to me and said, "Mom, I want to go to Stake Conference every time!"

I'm so very grateful for people like Leslie J. Thank you!!!

Going the Extra Mile -- or 100

A talent that I don't have but wish I had is going the extra mile. It's not that I don't want to, but I never think about it.

For example, at a recent gathering, a woman was given the assignment of putting numbers under people's chairs for a game. Now, if it was me putting numbers under the chairs, I would've just ripped a sheet of paper into squares (I'd be too lazy to even find the scissors to cut them out), hand write the numbers on them, and then tape them to the chairs. Well, this woman bought these beautiful circle tags, calligraphied numbers on them, put a grommet in them and tied silk ribbons to them to attach to the bottom of the chairs.

OK, doing something like that NEVER occurs to me!!! Maybe that's a bad example because I really can't fathom spending that much time and money on something that's just going to be thrown away five minutes later, but I do appreciate the thought and beauty involved.

But here's the kind of extra mile that I truly strive for:

When I was a teenager, our youth group would go down to Mexico every Christmas and bring food, clothes, and gifts to a few families. We would raise money all year and collect things, wrap presents, and learn Christmas songs in Spanish.

You'd think that was enough, but one man in our group drove up to the mountains, filled his pick-up truck with snow and drove it all the way to Mexico so that the kids in this village could have a snowball fight at Christmas time.

Now that's going the extra mile -- or 100. I'm so grateful for people like that and the inspiration they are to me.

Don't Forget to Vote!

I don't think that I've ever missed voting in an election since I turned 18. It's not that I'm super politically minded, but it's more of my fear that if I don't vote every year, they may take my name off the polls and I'll have to register again (and I don't know how to register to vote).

Similarly, I had 100% attendance in junior high and high school. I found out years later that my brother, Henry, also had 100% attendance for the exact same reason ("Mom, I know I'm coughing up a lung and bleeding from my eyes, but I can't miss school, I don't even know where the office is!").

Also, I feel bad for the voting officials in my precinct. My area is full of college students, so none of them ever vote. Also, I vote in a car dealership. A CAR DEALERSHIP! Who votes in a car dealership? So the officials are always very excited whenever ANYONE shows up (Geo and C. Jane, you know what I'm talking about).

Plus, I always think of that British suffragette who threw herself in the middle of a horse race for "the cause." She throws herself in front of a horse and I can't get off my butt and vote? I think not.

So get out there and vote -- and be grateful that you can.

Waiting for the Babies to Come

After you get married, always the first question out of people’s mouths is, “Are you pregnant yet?” The months and years go by and they ask, “So, when are you going to have kids?” You jokingly answer with “All the righteous women in the Bible were barren” or “I was originally born a man.”

But even worse than the questions is when the questions STOP. Now it’s official. You’re part of “the club,” those couples without children. The members and their reasons for membership are varied, and the dues are very costly.

You walk around like a recent amputee with phantom limb pain – you can feel that baby on your hip or a small hand clasped in yours, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. The worst is Mother’s Day at church and the young men hand you your “pity” potted plant. It’s one disappointment after another – like Henry and Julene, after being 10 plus years on the adoption waiting list and when it looks like they’re finally going to get their boys, the agency “loses” their information and they have to go through it all over again.

The worst was standing in a crowded room and seeing a man yell across to another man, “Hey, where’s the rest of your kids? I thought you had six.” “No, just five,” he replies.” The first man continues, “Really? I thought it was six.” And you want to run over and cover his mouth and yell, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Because they DID have six, but their little baby girl – their ONLY girl – had just died. But you don’t and the father doesn’t. You just smile and continue on with your life, because that’s one of the rules of “the club.”

You come to the realization that it's not going to happen for you and you take the box of baby clothes and baby toys that you've been saving and you slowly, one by one, wrap them up and give them away to others who have realized their baby dreams.

But then, the doctor announces, “It’s a girl!” And this little, perfect child, who you already know, is handed to you. Wonderfully, a few years later you have a boy, and then another girl. And just like that, you’ve been kicked out of “the club.”

I'm so very grateful for my three beautiful children, but I'm also thankful for those seven years in "the club" because it has given me insight and empathy towards those who are still members of it.

No Place Like Home

TOP 10 REASONS WHY MY HOMETOWN ROCKS

1. Shortest Main Street in America.
2. My elementary, junior high, and high school were all on the same block.
3. Early morning seminary -- held in a park!
4. Dr. Demento was always the grand marshal of our Fiesta La Ballona parade.
5. People like Hung Tri Ngoc (his real name) who actually said, "Wouldn't it be great if real life was in 3-D?" And we could NOT convince him that it really WAS in 3-D.
6. Using the high school auditorium for high holidays because the synagogue isn't big enough.
7. Getting let out of school early to watch them film "Eight is Enough" down the block.
8. No car washes or bake sales, we raised money by being audience members for game shows.
9. Out of work actors for school teachers ("Hey, Mr. Galbraith, didn't I see you in a video of 'Streets of Fire' playing a pimp?" -- and my brother-in-law even became my science teacher after his character got killed off on "General Hospital").
10. TITO'S TACOS!!!
    

"It's Fast Sunday, So We Need to Make It Really Fast"

After church, Alice-Grace and I were preparing asparagus. She was snapping the spears very quickly and said, "It's Fast Sunday, so we need to make it really fast."

I love Fast Sunday. I look forward to it every month. And it's not for the reasons you think.

I hate that most of my budget money goes to food. I hate shopping for food. I hate cooking food (it's a good thing we have Supper Club, or we'd starve). I hate doing dishes.

That's why I love Fast Sunday. It's such a relief to know that I don't have to think about food at least for a few hours.

My secret wish is to be able to get all my nutritional needs through breathing alone. Just imagine, no shopping, no cooking, no cleaning. No kitchens, no supermarkets, no toilets. Take a deep breath and say, "Oh, I'm full. I can't inhale another bite."

Until that day comes, I'll be grateful for Fast Sundays.

Simple Pleasures

TOP 3 THINGS I'M THANKFUL FOR IN MY KITCHEN

1. Dishwasher.
2. Bags of pre-grated cheese.
3. Auto-defrost freezer.
   

Dreams Really Do Come True

It's official. I just got my dream job. The job I've been dreaming about ever since I was a little girl.

I'M A FLEA'S CANDY LADY!!! (Yes, I changed the name to curtail future law suits)

I get to wear the white dress and hand out free samples and everything. Now, it's just for the Christmas season, but at least I've got my foot in the door.

It's a good thing that I stopped dying my hair and let my gray show because they like to hire "mature" women. So, should I be insulted that I got the job? No way!

When I go job hunting, it's all about finding the right kind of atmosphere for the most hilarious experiences. I try to live my life based on having great stories to tell my future grandchildren.

Currently, I watch TV for a living (seriously, I do).

The best job was when I worked at a veterinary hospital and part of my job consisted of pulling the dead dogs out of the freezer and handing them to the pet cemetery guy. Not a walk-in freezer -- a chest freezer! I had to literally dig through frozen dogs to find just the right one. I was always a little wary because I was just there in a lab coat and bare hands and the cemetery guy was in full bio-hazard gear. Did he know something I didn't?

Oh, dreams really do come true.

"The Cantaloupe Kept Rolling Off"

TOP 5 REASONS WHY MY MOTHER IS THE MOST HILARIOUS WOMAN ON EARTH

1. She played "The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning" while the congregation was exiting the church because someone lit the drapes on fire during the seminary graduation.
2. One year she gave away kittens as "treats" for Halloween.
3. At the age of 75, she's started violin lessons (and we thought she was nuts when she started banjo lessons at 40).
4. She's a "Beet Digger" and proud of it.
5. She planted corn on the roof of the house (When Lorna asked her why she planted corn on the roof, Dot replied, "Because the cantaloupe kept rolling off").

If you need any more reasons, check out October's "Watch It Jiggle?" and "I'm Boiling a Tongue" blogs.