Becoming Something

Great song lyrics-- what are your faves?

I had written a post about Izzy that was light-hearted and a bit funny and my stupid laptop got all overheated and it shut down. And I lost half of the post because TYPEPAD DID NOT AUTOSAVE LIKE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO.

It's remarkable that I even have it in me to write anything after that because the only appropriate response after such an assault is unabashed, grumbling bitterness.

But then Cat Stevens came on my playlist from the Music I ♥ page (see above? green buttons?). And how can you be anything less than heart-soar-y after hearing these lyrics:

"Oh, I can't keep it in. Can't keep it in, I've gotta let it out. I've gotta show the world, world's gotta see, see all the love, love that's in me. I said, why walk alone? Why worry when it's warm over here? You've got so much to say. Say what you mean. Mean what you think and think anything....Light has to shine, so shine light, shine light."

The whole song is great except for the part about living just for today and then letting it go. I can't approve of that message. I have a Mormon example to set, you know. ;-p

What are some other great lyrics? Hmmm. Well, you know how I feel about Foy Vance.

Who doesn't love Shower the People by James Taylor?

"Father and mother, sister and brother-- if it feels nice, don't think twice. Shower the people you love with love; show them the way that you feel. Things are going to work out fine if you only will."

Or Great Big Sea's Something Beautiful:

"Hey, you. You lost your only friend. You can't believe your broken heart will ever mend. But every mountain has its faces that would make you want to stop, from this so unwelcome journey from the bottom to the top. You've got to move along, I believe there's something beautiful to see... just waiting for you and me. I know you'll never count the tears you've cried. Though you've asked a million questions, no one can tell you why. A single soul is chosen to be the one put to the test and there will be no consolation for the heart that never rests. You've got to move along...."

I wrote about another uplifting song in the early days of this blog: Animal Liberation Orchestra's Barbeque.

And what about Natalie Merchant's Life is Sweet:

"They told you life is hard-- misery from the start. It's long. It's long and painful. But I tell you life is sweet, in spite of the misery there's so much more to be grateful for. So, who will you believe?"

All these songs make me happy, make my spirit soar. Most are on the aforementioned playlist. They are the kind of songs that make you sigh happily and think, Everything is as it should be. Life is good. People are good. I can do this thing.

What about sexy tunes? Are there sultry songs that make you want to pull your loved one close and kiss him or her deeply?

It's hard to find any music sexier than Van Morrison.  I challenge you. Tupelo Honey? Someone Like You? Crazy Love?

"She’s got a fine sense of humor when I’m feeling low down. And when I come to her when the sun goes down. Take away my trouble, take away my grief... And when I’m returning from so far away, she gives me some sweet lovin’, brighten up my day. Yes, it makes me righteous, yes it makes me whole. Yes, it makes me mellow down in to my soul."

I like how he says her love makes him righteous and mellow down in to his soul. She makes him want to be a better man. THAT is love.

But, wait. I think I found something to top Van Morrison. Just come to mind: Cannonball. Damien Rice. Right? One of the sexiest combos of music and lyrics ever.

"Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth. Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt. Still a little hard to see what's going on. Still a little bit of your ghost, your witness. Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed. You step a little closer to me, so close that I can't see what's going on.... Stones taught me to fly. Love taught me to cry. Some come on courage! Teach me to be shy. 'Cause it's not hard to fall and I don't want to scare her. It's not hard to fall and I don't want to lose. It's not hard to grow when you know that you just don't know."

I listen to this one on repeat at night when I can't sleep and it puts me right out. The music is very relaxing. I like the lyric "and I don't want to scare her". Gotta love a gentle, sensitive man like that.

What are some of your favourite lyrics/songs? Songs for coping, songs for love, songs for mourning, songs for celebration....? What songs got you through a tough time?

Daily Gratitudes

1. Cloudless days.
2. Izzy biting at the water coming from the sprinkler and getting sopping wet. I love the look and smell of a wet dog.
3. Josie gets to go to a birthday party. Making it more quiet around here. Ahhhh.
4. The Fantastic Four: "Flame on!" We love that line. Makes me giggle. It's Daisy's favourite show. She's too cool.
5. Lulu walking around in her Old Navy strawberry bathing suit, crazy curly blond hair, and chocolate ice cream all over her face.

Thank you

I have tried to think of what to say and anything I come up with sounds stupid. I want to say thank you for all the lovely comments. I want to say thanks for reading stuff that I write! I want to say thank you for sharing your thoughts and your time with me and other people who are interested in what you have to say.  Whatever I think to say either sounds bored or over-emphatic.

I made a video in part because a friend told me that I'm a bit intimidating in print and I come off really different in video (better, I assume). Want proof that I'm not at all intimidating? Watch this video. I sound kinda dumb.

Also I wanted to show that you really do inspire me to emotion over the words you write and the pats on the back you give.

And then THAT makes me feel dumb, in a way, because it's not like I write best-selling books. It's not like I'm a politician or anyone who makes a difference in the world that can be pointed to (outside my obviously tangible family). I just write a blog. Whoopdeedoo. It's not even a really popular blog! LOL. But I'm not being self-deprecating. I'm just being honest. I think what I write is important to me and might be important to my family one day and I'm sure there are a few people who have found something that was meaningful to them (like my friend Christina who realised from reading here that our lives have many parallels and it's always nice to relate to someone, especially someone you actually know). But I have no delusions of grandeur here. It's just a little blog and I say the word "blog" with a bit of embarrassment, actually.

At the same time, I share some of my most personal thoughts and feelings and you read them because you care for whatever reason (many of you are real life friends I love more than I can say). And then you sometimes tell me that I've done a good job writing--  me, the girl with a high school education. You even tell me you love me.

I hope you know that I would be so happy if people read what I have to say and shared their thoughts and didn't tell me how great I am.  I don't want anyone to think that I write because I want you to gush at me. I don't. I hope for laughs some days-- yes. Sometimes, if I'm feeling nervous and insecure, I do hope for some really good feedback. But I mostly write because I must; it's my thinking process.

At the same time, it does mean a lot to me, your gushiness. I don't want to sound ungrateful because hey-- I do need love. We all do. It's nice.

ARggggh.  Everything I want to say sounds stupid or self-important AND stupid.

And here's a video to further embarrass me. How many times can a person say UM in a 7 minute video?! (I don't know how people do this for a living.)

Thanks.

P.S. You know how I said in the video that I'm okay with the way I am, for the most part? And remember that blog post a couple of Sundays ago that was really depressing and low? Well, that was an off day. But you knew that, right? ;-)

Coming out of the closet

[I'm sorry. I have tried and tried to make this less wordy. But huge topics can only be distilled so much and I don't want to drag this out over days. If you're someone who usually groans at big, long posts, know that you'll be rewarded with this one if you're a regular reader of this blog. It's important, fascinating, and as personal as things get. Or are ever gonna get. I hope. I've bolded the stuff you could read to get the gist, if you want to skim. Shame on you, skimmers. ;-p Also, spell check is broken, so if you notice any spelling errors and want to point them out, not including Canadian/British spellings, feel free. Appreciated.] 

Why It's Actually Awesome and Not Stupid That I'm Writing This Post

Rest assured, I have given this a lot of thought. For months. I have had spiritual promptings, which I've ignored because you would too. I have tested this out on various friends, online and off, and have been pleasantly surprised. I have prayed three times and felt much peace about this, more peace than I've ever felt in years while praying. Jude prayed about it, as well. I have consulted people who have been in my shoes and I have weighed out every scenario I can think of. 

Thank goodness I don't care what strangers think of me and thank goodness I have faith in my friends and in the many educated, and seemingly tolerant and non-judgmental members of my ward. 

Compare gay people to murderers because "their sins are the same", and I get a little testy

I flipped out last night. Totally lost my carp. And because I'm not a meek person and because I've always been a fighter of injustice, childishly indignant, I didn't bite my tongue much. 

I flipped out because I was directed, by a Facebook notification, to a message on a friend's Facebook thread from a Mormon who was expressing an illogical level of disdain for gay people, namely American Idol's Adam Lambert. Later on in this very heated exchange I said that if we are to teach people where they are wrong, our message should be prefaced with love. But, at the same time, my message was prefaced with disgust and an attempt to shame this Mormon guy. I told him that what he said was one of the dumbest things I've heard in a while. And it was. And I think you'll think so too (I'll share his comment in a moment). But, I clearly need to work on being calm and loving when faced with bigotry and I think I can when I'm prepared for it. But when I'm taken by surprise and when it comes from someone who I think should totally know better-- a fellow Mormon-- when most Mormons I know are not like this at all, being calm and loving is not even a thought that crosses my mind because I'm more concerned about the focus of the person's attack, not the attacker himself.  Sigh. I did say sorry to him and I have repented.

I know one other friend was wondering why I didn't just shut up and leave it alone. Plenty of people would have done that. There's two reasons for why I didn't:

1. I was told by someone that a couple of weeks ago, this guy (let's call him Richard) had spouted off in a similar fashion on my same friend's Facebook wall, to a non-Mormon gay man, comparing gay sex to murder. That gay man may have been reading this thread of messages between me and Richard, for all I know. I want him to know that Richard does not represent the feelings of the men I believe to be the the holiest men in the world: our church leaders.  I want all people reading to know that.

2. There are quotes about people who stand by and say or do nothing when other people are spreading evil, hatred, etc.

"The world is a dangerous place not because of the people who do evil; but because of the people who stand by and let them." -Albert Einstein (I'm sure he meant because of BOTH of those things. *laugh*)

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of
our friends." -Martin Luther King

"In Germany, they came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist; And then they came for the trade unionists,and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist; And then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew; And then... they came for me... and by that time there was no one left to speak up." -Martin Niemöller, pastor, theologian, and former supporter of Hitler turned opposition, who was sent to a concentration camp by Hitler. (He made it out alive.)

Yes, there's a time to let things go but there's also a time to speak out. I am both disliked and loved for the way I speak out with great fervor over things I think are wrong, and because I am not satisfied to just ignore points that I think are totally wrong. Comparing gayness to murder is one example; you say that and I'm not going to say, "Well, let's agree to disagree because I don't like to argue," like that is a virtue. I will similarly speak out for tougher sentences for crimes, for restricted access to hand guns, and for truth-telling as opposed to outright lies, including those about my church.  If your cause is ever the one I'm defending, you wouldn't likely be telling me to let it go; you'd be grateful to have me on your side. I have no plans to change this aspect of my personality, I only plan on perfecting my delivery and working on having more charity. ;-D

So. That said, what did Richard say that got me so upset? This series of diatribes, some in response to my replies:

FAAANTASTIC. Thoughtful and FUNNY: Schools kill creativity

This video was recommended to me by two bright and creative friends who do not know each other. How cool is that? (Jules, meet John. John, meet Jules.)

It's like stand-up comedy combined with information sure to provoke some excellent conversation.

He made an interesting point about how our bodies are neglected or at least de-emphasised by education and it reminded me of David A. Bednar's recent talk about the danger of minimising the importance and sacredness of our bodies, in our communications and activities. I'm not sure what I think about either points made in either talks but I'm sure I'll come up with something. Very thought-provoking.

Let me know what you think of this great talk by Ken Robinson. If anyone needs me and can't find me for the next few months, I'll be on TED.com.

Daily Gratitudes

1. Feeling validated.
2. The sun is shining.
3. The house is tidier.
4. The weekend came quickly.
5. The vacuum finally works great. Better attachments were the key. And the company brought them to my door. NICE service!

Talents I do not have

My husband and I are completely different sleepers. He can fall asleep in an instant and just nap for ten minutes. His mom is like that too. He can do well on a lot less sleep than I and he thinks this is a matter of self-discipline and not biology. After years of being forced to get by on hardly any sleep, thanks to babies who woke up ten times a night (each and every one of my babies), I have concluded that his theory is carp. He just needs less sleep. I've ALWAYS needed a lot of sleep. Same with Daisy. 

Anyway. 

I take a notoriously long time to fall asleep for a nap, no matter how tired I am, especially if I feel under pressure to nap. This is why I'm only able to nap on Sunday. I know there's nothing else to do, really, no where to go. I know that I can take as long as I need. And so, after 40 minutes to an hour, I fall asleep and then sleep three hours. Nearly every Sunday. It's fantastic.

I am unable to sleep in a vehicle. I am unable to sleep sitting up in a chair. And unless Jude is home, I am usually unable to relax enough about the well-being of the children and the dog enough to sleep in my deliciously soft bed.

Imagine my surprise when Janice, the lovely school secretary, phoned at noon to remind me that Daisy could not teleport herself home from kindergarten. 

Obviously, the key to napping is to not even try. I was out COLD.

...................

"I hope you don't mind. We gave her a lunch. Another boy forgot his but his mom brought it in so we gave the extra one to Daisy."

I looked down at the white bread sandwich that Daisy had almost finished. 

"And she didn't ask you to take her to a restaurant?" I asked. "I should get you to serve her lunch everyday. All this time I have tried to get her to eat her lunch without complaint and really, I was stealing the job that was meant for you."

Then Mr. O walked by and said to Janice, "I called it, didn't I? All those teenage girls texting."

I loved that I knew he was talking about American Idol. Janice and I discussed the evening's television for a couple of minutes. It was a great show, funny and full of all different kinds of music. Steve Martin! Steve Martin on a banjo playing a song he had written, sung by some guy and quirky Megan Joy, the extremely gorgeous but unfortunately too self-conscious American Idol disappointment. It was so good. I loved the song, downloaded it immediately. What a pleasant surprise. 

I love the way shows like American Idol can provide a common focus, even for an hour, a connection between people spread out over countries. I loved that I was able to connect with Janice just then and Mr. O, whom I do not know at all. 

Ya, ya, the whole Susan Boyle thing. "That's why so many people watched the Susan Boyle video. That's what we loved about that, you humbug!"  Blah, blah, shut up. YOU try having your period and some sort of chronic fatigue problem and brain cancer and four kids and a big neck scar.

Did I say "cancer"? "BRAIN cancer", even. Yes, I did. Well. I could have brain cancer. We don't know, do we?

*cough*

Daily Gratitudes 

1. I still love Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. It's so relaxing.
2. I'm glad that Adam Lambert is not tied to any sort of American Idol contract. Hopefully, we'll see him performing soon. I didn't like him at first. The fake modesty thing he's got going on bugs me. Plus, I thought he looked too much like a beautiful woman and that just freaked me out. Because he's a man. But now I'm mesmerised by him and I love his voice when he sings ballads. He puts a ton of expression into his singing. That little car commercial he did that was on yesterday? Whew! He almost made me cry for him. I wanted to give him a cookie or something to make him feel better. Hyper-talented people make me grateful.
3. Play-doh.
4. Candy. For me. There's a stash under the chair I'm sitting on right now. I need an intervention.
5. My brown winter coat fits me better now. Of course, when I'm done my candy stash, that will all change.

FSMFH (Flying Sky Miracle For Humans)

Daily Gratitudes

1. Jude walking the dog in the mornings.
2. Reconnecting with old friends.
3. Can I re-emphasise number 2?
4. Swellings of love in my chest for people in my life.
5. Watching Lulu watch Martha Speaks and enjoying all the expressions on her face. Jude and I both sit and just stare at her, anticipating her smiles. It's heavenly.

Mildly cheered up by the opportunity to be grumpy toward WinterSpring instead of grumpy toward myself

Inches of snow on the May long weekend is just not funny.  I've never experienced this in my life. And since I'm so terribly old-- I just had a birthday, remember-- that's saying something. 

I can't help but wonder if it's a sign of the end of the world as we know it. Spring forever in limbo: a few buds of green on 40% of the trees... shrubs I thought were dead in my yard until I realised that half the shrubs in our town have the same affliction. We will never be able to plant a vegetable garden. Or, I might have to start monitoring weather reports like some 80-year-old and run amble outside with my tarps and maybe a down duvet, like I need one more thing to mother. 

I cannot think of a single good thing to say about the snow. Don't tell me that it's good for farmers. Who eats food anymore anyway? I happen to know that there are portions of the population who survive on crystal meth and cigarettes alone and I manage to get by on something I've lovingly named Death Shakes: protein powder, vegetable powder, omega oils, water. This is the improved version of the shake. Surely, there are enough vitamins and water to let us get by for a year. Besides, I have my food storage-- don't you? 

Don't tell me it's pretty. If I redecorated your house in nothing but white and brown I know you would not find it "pretty" for more than a day. Or a week. Whatever. My point is that Spring has a certain "look" and this ain't it. "Pretty" in Winter is not "pretty" in Spring just like "pretty" while undergoing chemotherapy is not the same as "pretty" while talking about "opposite marriage" on a stage to Perez Hilton. And now I have to start crying about Grey's Anatomy again. See what you've done, WinterSpring?!!

All you Southern belles obliviously tanning your hide and picking your peaches:  The end of the world looms and it started in Canada. It's our revenge for you not allowing us to shop on PotteryBarn.com.

Daily Gratitudes

1. Nothing. Didn't you read the above? It's SNOWING. STILL. The snow is falling as I write this and it's the long weekend in May. The long weekend in May is when we Canadians, who don't live on the coast, plant our vegetable gardens. Sigh.
2. Okay, I thought of something:  Because it's so pointless doing yard work, we get to stay inside and catch up on all the needed cleaning since my sinus infection. Can you feel my enthusiasm?
3. I'm going to cheer myself up with food and comedy today. Hips be damned. Or darned. Or something more articulate.
4. Jude is vacuuming beside me right now. Man, it looks good on him.
5. Okay, there's also this: Jude, Montana and Josie were playing Risk behind me on the floor. Josie is probably not as loud as a lot of people's children but she's our loudest kid and I am sensitive to noise, which you'd know if you read my About Me page, not that I can think of a good reason why you'd do that. Anyway, she was saying something casually, really loudly. I said, "Hey, can you be a little louder? They can't hear you in Russia." Because, while a totally lame joke that someone probably invented in 1991, my kids had not heard it yet and I knew Montana would think I'm a comedic genius. After a beat, Josie said dryly, "Yes, they can. Our armies are right there." It was funny.

Whine/purge alert

I'm pretty sure that this is logically ridiculous but it's nonetheless emotionally accurate:  I feel like I'm the only person who, instead of steadily becoming a better person, regresses sometimes for painfully long periods.  And I feel like this is one of those periods. And while I know that it's related to being exhausted and unhealthy for so long, that doesn't make me feel any better, any more self-forgiving. Instead, I just feel physically, spiritually, and emotionally spent and any time I try to work on one of those areas, the other spent areas prevent me from getting very far in any of the other areas.  Did that make sense? I hope so because I'm not re-writing the sentence. 

I know this is horrible, and selfish, and weak to say and it's exactly what Satan wants me to say, but it's the truth:  Some days I would just rather die. I JUST... WANT... TO... GIVE... UP. 

And that makes me feel even worse because it means I'm not cleaving enough to God but you know, I try. I really do.  I have very little attention span for praying. I constantly want to fall asleep. 

So, then I tell myself to not be so hard on myself, that this is just a rough spot I need to endure and then I think, well, when isn't there a rough spot? When is everything peachy keen? It's probably not supposed to be peachy keen but I don't really know what's normal because I know very few life stories besides my own. 

What gets me through is the thought that things will get better, that I will be better, that I won't be blessing my kids' lives while also inflicting myself upon them, that maybe one day I will only be a blessing to them. But I'm starting to think that will never be the case because it's just too difficult. After all, I'm doing nearly everything I can do here: praying, reading scriptures, taking my pills and supplements, exercising (when I wasn't sick-- went to the gym almost everyday), going to therapy at LDS Social Services, etc. and I don't feel much better for it. Of course, I'm probably being childishly impatient. 

Then I tell myself that it's all okay because obviously, the Lord trusted these kids to me and he gave them some special gifts to help them endure me. For example, he made them really smart because he knew that I'd have them watch a lot of tv and they'd need some special ability to endure the brain-deadening effects. And besides that, we're not meant to be born in perfect circumstances and all of these trials and imperfections will be for our good. 

But I don't want my kids to have to work at making good out of the bad I've handed to them.  I don't want to be their trial.

Then I think maybe that's just pride. Who am I to argue with the Lord's will?

Even striving to become better could be said to be prideful. Isn't the secret to happiness to forget one's self and go to work serving people selflessly and let the Saviour make up the difference I lack? Then I think, Well, if the Lord wants me to forget myself and get to work (tongue-in-cheek alert) maybe he should stop pointing out all my flaws to me. Because it's quite debilitating. 

It's so extremely hard to strike a balance between caring about self-improvement but not caring too much and between giving to my kids and giving to myself. It's so hard to be self-aware and not overly self-absorbed or -critical. It's hard to find the balance between giving my children hardships they need to grow and giving them enough ease in order to feel the peace and love to which they are entitled. 

Everything is a fine balance made more difficult by hormones and sleep deprivation and moodiness.

For all the people rolling their eyes right now because I didn't post a funny story and I took up your time with my own vanity, on my own personal journal of a blog that I share out of desperation to connect with other people, despite the discomfort it gives to my pride, don't worry-- you don't have to comment. Just mosey on to YouTube to watch some video about a squirrel breastfeeding a cow or something. For the one or two people who might be reading this who totally relate-- this is for you, so that maybe we can tell each other, "Hey-- you're not alone. Just breathe. Everything is okay just the way it is. Let go and let God."  Or something like that. For the rest of you: Hi.

</whine>

Daily Gratitudes 

1. There were no kids for me to teach in Primary today so I was able to go to Sunday School and Relief Society. It really filled me up with that sense of family that I miss, and with the spirituality I need. Man, I love Relief Society.
2. Yummy lunch leftovers waiting for us when we come home from church.
3. Being able to tell Jude anything.
4. We haven't had snow while a lot of other places around us have. Knock on wood.
5. Having bleached out blond hair that doesn't require daily washing. Like on Sunday when I have to get ready for church and I feel like I could go back to bed for five hours.

China builds sex theme park but don't worry-- it won't be "vulgar"

China is building a sex theme park called Love Land, because nothing says "love" like giant, disembodied genitals. 

Apparently there is a classy way to display giant genitalia. The park's manager says, "We are building the park for the good of the public. I have found that the majority of people support my idea, but I have to pay attention and not make the park look vulgar and nasty."

Ya, that plastic sculpture in the photo rivals the statue of David, wouldn't you say?

Sex is "a taboo subject in China and people need access to more information" so the park will include sex tips.  Because there are no libraries in China. Or internet. Or television. 

The sex park is for the GOOD OF HUMANITY, y'all. I smell a Nobel Peace Prize.

What qualifies as "taboo" anyway? How much public discourse on sex do we really need? As long as a society is able to discuss its problems related to sex, like teen pregnancy and STDs, as long as couples and perhaps friends feel comfortable discussing sex as needs be, as long as parents are comfortable discussing it with their children, as long as we have libraries of information and professionals to go to for help, I think we're pretty much covered. 

But our media would have us believe that sex is as important as breathing and eating. Do people realize that sex actually is a mere drive and not a biological need? 

I suspect that until sex becomes as impersonal and public as sports and grocery shopping, there will be people who will maintain that it is still taboo. This kind of obsession with sex-- this oppressive message that sex is no big deal and anyone who views it as sacred as well as fun-- threatens convictions to fidelity, which is the foundational virtue upon which healthy families (and thus societies) are built. How so? Well, if couples cannot be loyal to each other, keeping their families in one cohesive unit out of love for each other and their children, how much more unlikely are they to be loyal to their communities which are comprised of people whom they love less than their own families?  

Never in the history of the world has sex been such a big freakin' deal. Never has it defined people's identities until about 1870. Until then sex was a behaviour and a flexible one, at that. 

We're obsessed. Obsessed! I think it's sad.

How much do you want to bet that people at that theme park are going to be walking around with chocolate genitals on a stick?

Daily Gratitudes

1. Our nephew made us some doors for the bottom of our living room's built-in bookshelves. FINALLY. We've been in this house for almost a year and a half and the company that built the house was not willing to take responsibility for the doors that got botched by the company that the builder hired to paint the doors. After the painting company botched them TWICE (and everyone was in agreement on this) the builder said that it wasn't their problem because it was a private thing between the carpenter and I, even though I paid the builder for the job. YA. The only hatred I feel in my life toward anyone is the owner of this company. I know I shouldn't. But I've always been a very justice oriented person and that kind of unethical practice infuriates me, especially considering it's only one example of their unethical behaviour towards us and other people.
   
   Thanks. Had to get that off my chest. And now, I have doors. I need to paint them myself (after all that I'm not even willing to trust my nephew to paint them) but they're here and they're perfect. I should have kissed Curtis.
2. Jude went and planted a garden on a rented plot even though we have a plot at the back of our yard. I was annoyed because I hate going out there and we didn't even use all of our harvest last year and I said that this year let's just use the land we have here and if we don't let this bit go to spoil then next year we'll add a rented plot. BUT... he went ahead this morning and bought the plot and planted stuff with the kids. Why? Because the prophet said to. And he's devoted to going out every week to manage it. And I love that he did that, I must admit. He's a good boy, that Jude.
3. Jude's going to take a week off of work in September to help me can stuff because I've never done canning ever and it's a huge job. Right, Jude? Right? BOOK IT. :-)
4. My kids are pretty well-behaved. Don't think I'm not aware of how much luck is involved.
5. Izzy is so cute. She has a nice short snout and she's not scrawny like some labs I see. It's true what they say about beautiful dogs getting a free pass in life-- it's amazing what I'll forgive.
6. Free sod.

Google Voice killed the voice mail star-- leave an email at the tone

One day voice mail will die. It will die and I will stomp upon its grave, gloating. 

A little while ago my friend Sara asked me why I don't check my messages on my voice mail. Well, it started when Telus, my phone company, had a little blip and my phone's ring tone changed to the you-have-a-message ring tone permanently, even when I didn't have any messages. So, I started to ignore that sound which meant that I forgot about checking the messages.

But really, voice mail's problem is that you have to listen to all the voice prompts and there's no way to fast forward "or to pause the messages you receive.  Someone recently left me her phone number and she was on crystal meth and I had to listen to the message four times to get the number down. THE ENTIRE MESSAGE. FOUR TIMES. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get brain cancer now in the patience centre of my brain.

Then I realised that a lot of people leave messages that are unnecessary. "Hi, it's me! I phoned you. I'll phone back later!"

Thanks. Thanks for the announcement of your day's agenda. Careful you don't get too loose with the updates and slip in a message that says, "Hi! I just peed. AGAIN. What is that, like, seven times today? Yeesh. Now I'm going to play mah jong. I think this is the time I'm going to win, I can just feel it."

Actually, even THAT would be worth my time more than, "Hi, it's me! I phoned you. I'll phone back later!"

How about you just...  PHONE BACK LATER? Surprise me!

There used to be a time when that was the only option you had. If you didn't know someone's whereabouts 60/24/7, you would just... wait it out. Try again later. Cross your fingers and hope for the best, you know?

And frankly, I like the idea of making it someone else's responsibility to get a message to me. You need me to make some food for some church activity? You'll have to tell me yourself. If I don't get the message, I can't do the job, I guess. SHUCKS.

If you want me to do something for you, or go somewhere with you, or even just call you back, make it easy for me.  You're the one asking ME.  So, email me. Write your number down FOR me.  If I get it in an email, I'm more likely to remember the details than if it's given to me verbally and if the details get written down wrong, it will be your fault.  

You might say, "Natasha, that's unreasonable. How is anyone supposed to know to email you?  What about strangers?" You might say, "Natasha, that's so demanding. What if it's a message that YOU don't want to miss? What if you have left someone a message and they're just phoning you back and then you're telling them that they have to email you?"

Here's where my new genius outgoing voice mail message comes in:

Hi. You've reached ***-****.  Remember when there was no such thing as voice mail or answering machines? SOMEHOW... people managed to get by. Fortunately, these days we have call display and we already know that you called.  If we're familiar with your number, we're going to give you a call back. If we're not familiar with your number and you want to get a hold of us, you can email us at voicemailslackers@gmail.com. Or, OR... you can try phoning back. This is just a temporary solution until Google Voice starts accepting new accounts. To be clear, we won't be checking our voice mail any longer. Thanks and much love, The Loewens.

You might say that's an awfully long message. Yes, but, you only need to listen to it once, right? 

Google Voice will be launching a free service to synchronise all of your phones, giving you one phone number to give out to all your contacts. When they phone that phone number, it will phone your cell phone and your home phone at the same time. It will be so much easier for anyone to get a hold of us, but... also easier to ignore calls you don't want to take. You can outright block callers like telemarketers. Of the callers you like, you will be able to see who is phoning and while the caller listens to the ring, you will receive options for how you'd like to handle the call:  1) accept it; 2) send it to voice mail; 3) send it to voice mail, listen to your caller as she leaves her message, and pick it up then if you want; or 4) pick it up and RECORD IT, which is awesome. (Man, if I had that feature when I was building my house and dealing with lying cheaters in the building industry....)

Also, it transcribes (albeit imperfectly) voice mails into text. So, instead of listening to someone's entire two minute message when it's inconvenient, you can zone in on the most important details, either on your cell phone or in email because the voice mail messages get sent as emails.

I like what Farhad Manjoo says in this Slate.com article:

And don't spin me on how voice mail is somehow inherently warmer and more human than e-mail. Speaking into a dead phone has always seemed unnatural. That's why we stammer, ramble on, leave awkward pauses. I submit that whatever finally makes voice mail obsolete will make us all sound far more human—and a little more polished at that.

Google can own my photos, my info and my soul-- I don't care. So long as he eliminates voice mail from my life, imports all my email addresses into my one gmail address, gives me a search engine that works, gives me an online docs program that has made it possible for me to never need or own a word processing program, tracks my blog stats in detail, and just altogether makes my life easier and more organised... Google is still my boyfriend.

Leave a comment at the tone-- beeeeeeeeep.

Daily Gratitudes 

1. Dave from the central vac company was very generous and kind to me. He gave me his container of cement glue for my pipes and his personal cell number if I have any questions which I won't because installing the (2nd) new vacuum will be easy-- far too easy to pay someone $100 to do it. Not when I can use that money toward a new iMac. Dave also raved about his iMac which gave me more reason to buy one so thank you for that, too, Dave.
2. Jude knows me well enough to ask when he came home today if I ate today or not. He knows I'm still trying to get better from this sinus infection and I'm really tired and I don't even eat when I'm tired. I'll have like... a banana and some dried mangoes all day. And he bought me some healthy convenience foods. 
3. I played with the kids at their recess lunch hour. We played line tag on a painted grid on the asphalt and I was glad to set this one kid straight: Montana had tagged him and he said he was safe but he didn't actually make it to the corner. Montana never would have called him on it but I'm not afraid of no 3rd grader. "No one likes a cheater," I said loudly. "He tagged you fair and square.  You're it." I like bossing around my son's bratty classmates. Definitely something for which to be grateful.
4. Brownies, Sparks and Cubs is almost over for the season. Hectic Wednesday nights.
5. Jude is working closer to home this week. He can return the old new vacuum unit and buy the new new vacuum unit. While I sit here spewing snot, my new talent. 

How to scam your mother

Me: Hello?

Teacher: Hi, Natasha. It's [teacher]. I just wanted to give you a heads up that Josie came in with her Scholastic order today and a cheque. She had written the date and had written Scholastic on it but there's no signature and the math is incorrect.

Me, laughing: That's so cute!

Teacher, sounding a little bit confused: I asked her if you knew about this and she said yes.

Me: No, I had no idea.

Teacher:  Well, you're coming in today so you can bring a cheque in, right?

Me: Yes, I can.

Teacher: Also, she tried to add it up but got it wrong. I added the items up and it comes to $49.60.

Me: [Burst out laughing with a loud "Ha ha ha!".] 

Teacher: [Not laughing.]

Me: We talked about her order days ago and we discussed her getting one item. She asked if we could use a cheque and I explained how they work. That was all I knew about this. That's so cute.

Teacher, not sounding terribly amused: Yes, it is. She knew the order due date was tomorrow so she was on the ball. I'm pretty proud of her.

I wonder if the teacher thought I was laughing AT Josie or something. What the teacher doesn't know is that Josie tried to order more items than we discussed by taking one of my cheques and filling it out herself. And this morning, seconds after I groggily got up, with her sweet, innocent face she handed me less than a dollar 36 cents in loose change and told me it was for her Scholastic book order.  I chuckled and said, "You know that doesn't really make up for it, right?"  "I know."

I'm just picturing this cheque with penciled kid writing on it and no signature. I think I'm going to become one of those rabid scrapbookers TODAY just for that cheque. Does anyone have die cuts, ribbon, buttons, string, embossers, stamps, glitter, chalk, cute clothing labels, eyelets, bone, teeth, hair, bra straps and scrabble tiles I can borrow?

Just pulling your leg. I already have glitter.

Daily Gratitudes

1. When the kids let Izzy out the front door, unbeknownst to me (I'm really out of it this morning), she didn't do too much damage to the flower bed. It could have been a lot worse.
2. Martha Speaks. Have I mentioned how much we enjoy this cartoon?  
3. Jude has taken it upon himself to make my disgusting morning shakes for me. I still haven't drank it.  
4. My snot is no longer apricot. That has to be a good thing, right?  
5. Did you know you can get a line of credit at 4% interest? Not bad.  

Great. Take some nekkid photos of yourself and this is what happens

I can't find my camera.

I need my camera so I can put up the white trash yard photos and the funny dog-and-kids-in-bath photos. 

I need my camera to cater to Daisy's compulsion to be a dramatic, modeling ham.

I need my camera to list some items for sale on Kijiji.  Maybe a child, too.

But mostly I need my camera because there's naked photos of me on it. And I'd be pretty embarrassed if someone found it. Not because they're lurid or anything. It's more the way I'm posing to maximize my fatness for some "before" fitness photos. Don't worry-- I was planning on using Paint to draw on some coverage, IF I ever showed them to anyone. But that would only be if they were accompanied by super hot "AFTER" photos, OBVIOUSLY.

So, um, anyone see my camera? I'll pay a $100 finder's fee and we'll both pretend you didn't snoop through the photos. Heh, heh.

Daily Gratitudes

1. Dancing With the Stars and Gilles. Whew! he is entertaining.
2. Cool air.
3. Lower interest rates.
4. Jude's massages. Usually better than professional.
5. Technology when good.

Sometimes family offer the best laughs

Every Saturday morning, Jude and I listen to The Great Debaters on CBC radio one. I believe anyone can get it on Sirius and you should look for it because it's often so funny that my gut hurts afterward and I'm crying.  The guests on the show are often comedic geniuses.  It's one of the best parts about Saturday.

But as I sat here tonight reflecting over the laughs of today, The Great Debaters was in the background of my mind. 

....................

We were eating at Montana's for supper, for Mother's Day and so that I could eat steak, to help combat my anemia.  I've never seen more beautiful menus.  They were really well made and had that nice smooth coating on the pages like on The Naked Chef's cookbooks.  That's probably why the restaurant was so busy.  Other people like stroking the menus too. So, we waited outside with our little electronic notification device and watched the traffic go by.

Jude:  Sometimes I think about getting a motorcycle. But with one of those side cars to carry all my briefcases. 

Me:  Right. So I can worry about you even more. The best accident scenario is that you lose control, go flying onto your face, get road rash, and ruin the best part of you. Those beautiful lips would be all mangled.

Jude:  I'd be missing random chunks out of them.

Me:  Ya. That's hot.  Or maybe you'd just die. 

Jude: True. 

Me:  I could just get a really good taxidermist and mount you to the wall.  Maybe with some kind of soft material so I could move you around in different positions.  You could be like my guard dog. 

Jude:  Or you could just kick me around when you get mad.

Me:  Ya, I could put jelly beans in your torso for that. 

Jude:  It's settled. 

....................

Lulu, three years old, did not want to go home. She wanted to go somewhere else. Apparently the cavernous, under-employed hell that is Home Depot was great fun for her.  It was quiet for a while when we drove home. Then Lulu sweetly and innocently said, "Mommy and Daddy? I'm going to tell you when it's bedtime."  

....................

Tucking her in to bed, I nuzzled my face into her neck and whispered sweet somethings into her ear about how much I loved her and how she was the best three-year-old in the whole world and how she made me happy. 

Lulu: I have no thfwends.

Me, my face still nuzzled into her neck:  What? You have no friends?

Lulu: I have no fwums.

I pulled back to look at her. Her teeny, cute hands were on her face, both thumbs in her mouth. "I have no thumbs," she was saying.  I was professing my tenderest of feelings and she didn't even hear me because she was busy concentrating on just how deep she could get those thumbs into her head. I had never felt such unrequited love.

....................

Lulu got out of bed, walked downstairs and looked at me from the landing. "Mommy, I have to tell you something." Then very matter-of-factly, almost as if in passing, tells me, "I never wanted a dog like Izzy because she's wee-urd [sic] and makes messes." "Okay, thanks for telling me. Bye." Completely satisfied, she turned around and walked back up to bed. 

Later she got back out of bed. Curled up with Jude on one of the living room chairs she said she wanted us to get a black lab.  After watching some Scooby-Doo with him, Lulu said she wanted a dog like Scooby-Doo.  "You don't want a dog like Martha? Who can talk and eats vegetable soup?"  "No, I want a dog like Skits. Can mommy see if there's a brown dog called Skits?"  Because if we go to the animal shelter to get a dog and we find one that happens to be named Skits and also happens to be brown, it's going to be exactly like a cartoon dog and all will be well. Geez, why didn't we think to get a cartoon dog when we were first planning on getting a dog?  So, really, all this diarrhea poop from Izzy lately?  It's only because she's not a cartoon. IT'S ALL OUR FAULT.

"I love Izzy," she said a few minutes later. "She's cute."

How will I ever be able to take her seriously again?

Daily Gratitudes

1. Soon we will finally have our central vac hooked up and I can give the Wests their vacuum back. I hate having other people's stuff. It stresses me out. I looove the convenience of central vac, especially with dog hair on dark floors. Sweeping dog hair doesn't work so well.
2. Good restaurant service.  
3. Sweet potato french fries. The best ones ever, to be specific. 
4. I'm finally feeling better from my stupid cold.  
5. Josie is gone on a trip with her Brownie troup and the house is soooo much more quiet. I do worry about her though. I instructed her again on what to do if anyone tries to grab her or come in her bed at night or tell her to "be quiet or else". 

No cat-dogs, no green toilet flower arrangements, and no celebrities on Twitter. Because I said so.

You know how Quebec reserves the right to stop you from naming your kid something really stupid/cruel, like Lucifer, Spatula, or a French word that means "whore"?

Well, recently Gwyneth Paltrow, getting into the spirit of dictatorship, considered a rule that all members of her $4500-sign-up-fee gym need to adhere to a dress code so that her gym will be a pleasurable visual experience as well as a pleasurable(?) physical experience. [Source was offline, couldn't find online source.]

This makes perfect sense to me.

While American Libertarians would choke to death on indignation over this, I believe in even greater suppression of free will for the betterment of... well, my life. Why stop at baby names?  A name is relatively harmless, proved by Stephen Dubner and Steven Levitt in Freakonomics. Also, it certainly doesn't affect me much if your name is Spatula. Why stop at dress codes? Dress codes should be the starting point.

What bugs me are people who gesture for me to turn left at a four-way stop, when they are making the same turn, only as a right-hand turn. I want to scream out, "Guess what? We'll both start going at the same time and you'll STILL beat me around the corner and then NEITHER of us has to wait or play the go-no-you-go-no-YOU-go game."  I believe there should be a $1000 fine for this.  POLITENESS CAN GO TOO FAR. 

(This is an original Canada Moms Blog post. To continue reading, please click here.)

Daily Gratitudes

1. The way Jude's voice lights up with love and gentleness when I phone him at work. For years this is something I've looked forward to as the phone rang. The rare times he answers stressed out I know he must really be stressed out.
2. Curling up with Daisy and Lulu in my bed and reading.  
3. Listening to Daisy read an Arthur book and breeze past words like "communicating".   
4. Laughing over Daisy stumbling over the word "take". She can read "communicating" but not "take"? (No, she's not just memorizing-- I've never read her the book.) 
5. Jude has no court trials for two weeks.