Allow Time to Digest

A couple of days ago, something happened that stirred up a lot of people. You may be tired of hearing about that thing. This post is not a response to that thing, but rather a response to the responses to that thing. And a few other things.

First off, this thing that happened deeply upset a lot of people. That's why I was disappointed by the lack of patience, love, and attempts at understanding that I witnessed from both sides. Even some of those who were seemingly attempting to respond with love still came across as a bit cold and hurtful. I read many comment threads in which those who were grappling with this new information were further battered, rather than comforted.

We all believe certain things to be true, but there are some things (and certain times) that we don't need to share, regardless of their truth. It may be a fact that my dear friend is overweight. There is no time that I feel justified in pointing that truth out to her. It would not be kind. It would not build our friendship. It would not be helpful. Very often, these truths that we feel inclined to share at inopportune times are well-known by those with whom we are sharing. "Reminding them" does nothing but scrape an open wound they are attempting to heal.

When an issue like this becomes front and center, we feel a need to do something. Say something. Respond in some way. But hasty responses can do a lot of harm that we may never be aware of. I admire the friend who, upon learning this news, was somewhat hurt and confused, but responded, "I need some time to digest this." This is a matter that may require a bit of time to resolve. Some of us may never be 100% okay with it. I don't think that means that we still can't have strong testimonies. One of the more rankling comments I repeatedly hear is something to the effect of, "If you believe the prophet speaks with God to give us revelation then you shouldn't have any doubts." I respectfully disagree. I have a very strong testimony that the prophet, Thomas S. Monson, speaks for the Lord. That does not mean I have never felt anxious, concerned, confused, or sad about anything--even commandments or policies. It feels a little uncomfortable at times. I would say it even hurts. But I also believe that those times I am hurting are stretching me, molding me, and making me stronger. Eventually. In the meantime though, I feel a bit weak, vulnerable, and I need a little bit of extra love and understanding. The last thing I need is for people to freak out because I'm unsteady.

I sat in a church lesson awhile ago that made me squirm. The lesson was based on Rosemary M. Wixom's talk, "Returning to Faith." I loved this talk. The teacher didn't though, and admitted it up front. It made this teacher uneasy to listen to a story of a young mother who had questions about the gospel. And this concern/panic began before the young mother had even left the church--it was off and running at the first mention of doubt. And throughout the young mother's story of questioning, learning, growing, and returning to the church, this well-meaning teacher continued to interject expressions of alarm. It made me incredibly uncomfortable to see what had been for me a calming, reassuring lesson in persisting in spite of doubts turned on its head.

I saw this same discomfort with others' uncertainty present in the faith-filled responses of many. I am very glad that there are so many strong members who have not struggled with this issue. If you are one of them, I commend you. I also ask though, that you be patient with the rest of us. This is a sensitive issue that can merit some deep concerns. They will likely not be resolved in immediate response to something seen on social media, or shared by friends. It is great that you have answers as to why this thing is right and good, but those are your answers. You can feel free to share them if it feels right, but be prepared to realize that they may not assuage the anxiety of those in the midst of questioning. They will need to find their own answers in their own time. As much as we may wish to fix the problems of others and heal their hurts, we can't always do so. Occasionally, we may only offer hugs and prayers as others undergo their trials of faith. They, in time, can be prepared to do the same for us when we encounter our own uncertainties.

I think it's worth noting that not everyone who asks why is on their way to leaving the church. For those who are, it is not something that will come easily. Many who leave have struggled to stay for a long time. The gospel has become an integral part of them, and separating themselves from something that has been so dear to them for so long causes a great deal of pain. I think that whether our doubts lead us to apostasy or not, we all need a gentle environment in which to question.

Remember those things we believe but don't need to share? I keep hearing a lot of people saying, "I see this as a weeding-out of members." *Cringe.* I don't doubt that this issue will try many. It may even be a reason for departure from the church for many. I'm not going to bring that opinion to a public forum where struggling members may read it. 

You know the thing about weeding? I have zealously weeded strange plants from my flower beds only to discover months later that these "weeds" were some of the most beautiful flowers. I just wasn't familiar enough with them to properly distinguish them from weeds. We also learn from the parable of the wheat and the tares that if we attempt to weed in areas where wheat and tares have grown together, pulling the tares can result in the loss of some wheat. For that reason, tares were allowed to grow up with the wheat, and were sorted after harvest.

This is not my garden. These wheat, tares, flowers, and weeds are real people--our friends, our family, and those in our neighborhoods. Their souls are what's at stake here, not just a few missed flowers. That is why I trust the care of this garden to an all-wise gardener. As Hugh B. Brown's brilliant talk (which was made into a lovely Mormon Message) states in its title, "God Is the Gardener." This entire issue is one that I don't completely understand. My only peace comes from knowing that God is the one who is doing the weeding and pruning. Let's leave that to Him, please.

As we engage in tricky discussions, let's do our best to make our love and understanding increase relative to the sensitivity of the issues. While we may speak out in favor of our beliefs or correct factual inaccuracies, we should engage in such discussions with the utmost care. Regardless of whether we fully accept changes yet or not we all need love at this challenging time. Allow time for the Spirit to work in others so that they may receive their own answers and support them. Realize that, despite your wishes, you may not have their answer, and that's okay. Above all, remember that we are all children of God, and our words can deeply affect each other. 

"Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers.

I know thy heart, and have heard thy prayers concerning thy brethren. Be not partial towards them in love above many others, but let thy love be for them as for thyself; and let thy love abound unto all men, and unto all who love my name."

(D&C 112:10-11)

From a Frugal Freshman

I just finished watching (at the time I began writing) the Democratic Debate. It contained the tell-tale signs of modern political debate: The unsubstantiatable boasting of a pre-school "My dad could beat up your dad" fight, the pomposity and disdain of an undergraduate philosophy class discussion on epistemology, the persistent one-upmanship in promising akin to my sisters vying for favorite aunt status, and the self-absorbed rambling described in Brian Regan's "Dinner Party" routine. That aside, one of the issues the candidates--especially Bernie Sanders--would like to use to appeal to younger (college-age) voters (and their parents), is that of affordable college tuition. Now, regardless of how you feel about the government financing the educational pursuits of Americans through their bachelors degrees, university tuition can be pricey. So, I thought I would share my experience of paying for college and some of the strategies that helped me graduate debt-free. This is meant as more of a way to help out current/future college students, but if it crosses the line into "I'm wonderful. Me, ME, ME!" then please just close your browser and pretend like that didn't just happen.

I recently took a campus tour of a college that I once had an interest in attending. (It wasn't out of my own interest that I went; I was accompanying my sister.) As we were riding in the amazing golf cart-limousine, our tour guide told us about how the university cared about its students, and that's why they offered jobs and other aids: "They want to get you out of here with as little debt as possible." Then he proceeded, in the very next breath, to explain, "That building houses the Jamba Juice--if that's important to you." And I thought, "HA!"

Because frequenting the Jamba Juice is not an effective way to limit your student debt.

But really, I hear a lot about how to spend less in college. And some of it is sound, but rarely do I hear the things that helped me most. So, here it is (after way more introduction than it deserves), my gift to you.

Your college preparation mentality should ideally begin way before you take that college tour. If you are serious about attending college someday, you should be planning that way with your grades, the way you spend your free time, and the way you spend your money from the beginning of your awkward little Freshman year. Parents, talk to your kids. Kids: talk to your parents. Who is responsible for footing the bill? Every family will be different, but with mine, my parents let me know that it would be my responsibility to be the number one contributor to my college fund. This affected my decisions. I knew I needed to study for scholarships and save for supplemental income. Whatever the terms of the agreement, both parties need to plan accordingly. If jobs and savings accounts are needed, get them started.

You don't necessarily need to be the school, work, then study late into the night with no hope of a social life kind of student when you're planning for college. I mean, I may not have had a social life, but I also had quite a bit of free time and I don't want you to get the idea that I was always studying, because I wasn't. However, when the opportunity to babysit arose, I took it--a while after some of my cohorts had to stop sitting because of their burgeoning social schedules. It can help to be willing to stoop a little lower to earn a few more bucks.

Equally important will be your expenditures. Do you really need it? As a penny-pinching maniac in a small town, I found little opportunity to spend my hard-earned money. My parents were providing me with the necessities of life, so large proportions of my earnings could be committed to my bank account. That was a wonderful time of my life.


Look for scholarships. They will save you mucho dinero. I didn't personally go for government aid, but if that's something that appeals to you, go for it. There are people and corporations that are interested in funding your ascension to becoming a contributing member of society--take advantage of that.

Quick note on scholarships offered by universities:
Some universities will offer scholarships with dollar amounts. Others offer "Full," "Half," or some fraction of the tuition-type scholarships. Some scholarships apply a full four years, but others apply only for one year and must be reapplied for later. Read the fine print. If you choose a school with a four year-dollar amount scholarship from what used to be a cheaper school, you could end up paying more than you would if you had attended a larger university on full tuition. I received the highest available scholarship as an incoming Freshman. Three years later, tuition hikes rendered my dollar-amount scholarship impotent. What once paid nearly all my tuition now paid just under half. I'm telling you: If you are offered "Full" and "Essentially full, but we spell it out in a dollar amount," take the first.

Plan to get a job. Part-time? Full-time? Selling alarm systems in the summer? Only you can say. If you've got scholarships, savings, or other supplemental income, you will probably be able to get by with part-time. At least for a while. I actually lived primarily off my savings and worked summers in my hometown at a grocery store for the first two and a half years of college. I felt a lot better once I found a part-time job, though--I was starting to run somewhat low on funds. Your ability to get a job will depend on your class schedule and course of study. Some rigorous majors may limit your ability to work many hours, and afternoon labs can complicate things, as well. Luckily, there are many campus jobs available for students. With jobs for early morning/late night cleaners, paper graders/teachers' aides, tutors, and groundskeepers, universities can be a good place of work for busy students. Food for thought: occasionally places that hire also look for volunteers. If you have time for a job but can't find one, consider volunteering. It will fill a gap in both your schedule and your resume, and could eventually lead to a job.

Once you've gotten into the "I'm going to college, and this is how I'm funding it" mindset, the school you select will have a HUGE impact on your money spent. Everyone looks for different things from their collegiate experience, but be honest with yourself. It may sound cool to have a highly ranked football team at your college, but if you aren't being recruited and wouldn't realistically attend any games then you may want to look for the aspects of the college that actually affect you personally. If you don't care about any of the myriad student services available, it will only frustrate you more to have your student fees go to funding them. For me, a small public university that was close enough to home that I could return as frequently as needed (yet far enough that moving out was practical and justified) was a good fit. By acknowledging what I actually wanted from my university experience I was able to avoid paying more for facilities that are admittedly awesome, but that I didn't need. Also, shop around and ask questions. As we toured the larger campus, I found myself making mental notes to tell my sister later: "They talked about [this resource] as though it was a big deal, but it's pretty standard on college campuses. Same with [another thing the university was proud of]: I had that at my alma mater, and it's considerably smaller." The community college may be a good starting off point--especially if you're unsure of a major. Don't cut out any options before giving them a fair chance.

You're looking for a place to live. The university tour guides told you that the social aspect of the dorms is unrivaled. I'm not social. I chose not to live on campus. I still found a social life. If I can do it, you can do it. Again, we all look for different benefits, but for me, living off campus and being able to prepare my own food instead of having to buy a meal plan was a better option--in large part because it was cheaper. You know what else is cheaper? Sharing. I mean, most of us would like our own space, but when you're willing to share a bathroom? Rent goes down. You live in the same room as someone else? Even cheaper.

I had my own room my first year out in what I thought was a pretty decent place for a decent price. Through the year I found a friend and discovered I could get cheaper rent by rooming with her in a complex a block over. The next year I once again hopped to a cheaper place in the neighborhood. Admittedly, I moved a lot during my four years of college, but each move saved me a bit more. By looking around, especially after you've grown familiar with an area and its housing situation, you may be able to find a better deal. Just as you should be willing to consider less-traditional options for your schooling, take inventory of all your living choices. It may be cheaper to live with a family member, in a large complex, a house full of students, or a spot just a block further from campus. Don't lock yourself into one spot or idea if you are truly searching for a good deal.

On your own, you can put into practice those money-saving habits you developed while still at home. I had a professor laugh because I hauled a peanut butter sandwich and an apple to his class every day for lunch one semester, but it was WAY cheaper than other convenient, pre-packaged options. Exercise control. Try not to eat out or buy unnecessary snack foods too often. Buy a few store brands. Limit your consumption of meat. Don't coupon.

This may seem counter-intuitive. In my experience, though (and I may be behind the curve on this one), in order to save money couponing, you must have more time, patience, and access to Sunday editions of the newspaper than most college students possess. Casual couponing only fooled me into thinking I was saving money--when I was using coupons to buy items that I didn't normally buy. I use a lot of store brands, and rarely do coupons lower the price of brand name items to the point that their prices are lower than those of store brands. By all means, use coupons for things you normally buy, or if you're looking to splurge on a treat, but remember to coupon with care!

With clothing and other "status" purchases, bear in mind that the college atmosphere is a bit different than you experienced in high school. On the average college campus, you will see everything from business suits to hoodies and pajamas. This knowledge makes it a lot easier to save money on clothes if you need to, because, honestly, there could be a girl who wears a cat tail pinned to the back of her jeans in your 1010 English class: At the university level, confidence is king and judgement sits in the backseat next to Rebecca Black. When I shopped (which was rarely), I found great deals at thrift stores and on clearance racks. Nobody cared.

Your needs may vary depending on your schedule and your location. If you attend a larger university, you may not need a car because public transportation or even free shuttle services for students will take you most places you need to go. If you choose to live off campus at a smaller college or university, a car could be a big help. My parents were kind enough to let me use a '96 Geo Prizm while I was at school. My sisters now mock this car. :( It wasn't fancy, but it only full-out died on me once. Maybe twice. I was very grateful to have it.

This next tidbit may not be for you. Especially because times change, technology changes, and I entered the university world a whole six years ago. I began and ended my time at school without ever having purchased a laptop. Admittedly, I married into one my Senior year, but until then, I was able to save a bit by using campus computers and occasionally relying on the kindness of roommates. Having a laptop is certainly convenient, but every campus will have computers available for use. Because I was usually able to get my computer-related homework done on campus before the library closed at midnight, I found I was able to squeak by without a laptop. Again, consider your circumstances and priorities.

I think I'm wrapping this up, here, but one more biggie before I do: Partying and Spring Break.

Now, you may have seen shirts declaring something along the lines of "I like to party. And by 'party,' I mean, read books." (If anyone wants to buy me one for Christmas [or, if you're honestly looking for ideas, this one that I can wear to family reunions and ward parties], that'd be awesome--because as you can tell after reading this post, I'm too cheap to buy snarky t-shirts for myself. But I digress!) If you can't tell, this was pretty much me in college. I mean, I went out and did things, but as far as attending crazy loud parties and dancing at bars--that's not my scene. And you know, I saved money not having to buy alcohol. If you do like to drink and party, just be aware that booze can cost you. Also, be aware that if you are partying within hearing range of my house too far past midnight, I will call the cops on you. That is all.

Except . . . that even if you don't go crazy on the weekends, you may still have the opportunity to spend money on social engagements. If you're a guy--or a break-with-tradition feminist--you may have dates to pay for. (Incidentally, this could be a despicable, but effective way to save money if you're a single woman!) You don't have to be tackily cheap to keep them from breaking the bank. Occasionally, through no fault of your own, you may find yourself in a restaurant. Drinking water is healthier and cheaper than getting a soft drink. Matinee showings are cheaper than later night movies. You know, these sorts of secrets abound on the internet. Find them and use them.

Your roommates may plan an awesome road trip to California for Spring Break. And you may decide, that at this time, your savings being what they are, you won't be going with them. It happens. And the world doesn't even end.

Basically, what I'm saying is, swear off of fun for four years and you'll be able to pay for college.



HA, NOT! Guys, I had an awesome time at college. If you don't believe me, feel free to Facebook-stalk my photos from 2009 to 2013 (Just kidding. Privacy settings, people!). I took some awesome (and fantastically well-planned and frugal) trips to the Grand Canyon, Vegas, and Salt Lake City, to name a convenient list of three. I'm not saying you can't do anything fun. I'm saying 1. Fun doesn't have to cost money. 2. Think about what you want from your college experience and don't pay for a lot of extras you don't want. 3. Prioritize. On occasion, you can spend a little more. It's when you start spending more on EVERYTHING that you'll run into problems. 4. You can graduate from college without having gone into debt. It is possible. Maybe this will help somebody. Maybe it won't. But you know what's awesome about my blog? It's free. Also, it's like a presidential debate: all about me, Me, ME!

How I Know I'm Not a Disney Princess

In this world of confusion and disagreement, I would like to present you with something upon which we can all agree: I am not a Disney princess. Hopefully this won't shock too many of you, but I'm not. Just in case you still doubt me in my statement of fact, I have compiled a list of some of the ways I know I'm not a Disney princess. This could have been an infinite list. (By this I simply mean that there are a lot of ways in which I differ from Disney princesses. Logistically, it couldn't actually be an infinite list because someday--before I run out of reasons--I will die. This is an event that would probably be hastened if I were to devote my future to maintaining an infinite [and pointless] list.)

When I was very young--say, under the age of four--I wanted to be a Disney princess, and even sometimes thought that I was. As a result, I did things like stop to count to make sure that the Seven Dwarfs were still following me. There was also an incident in which I told my grandma to hurry to the door because someone was there. After my grandma, who had been in the middle of applying lotion to her feet, hobbled to the door (on the sides of her feet in order to avoid getting lotion on her carpet) to find the porch vacant, she asked who was there. My answer? "It was Princess Aurora, but she's gone now." I no longer believe myself to be a Disney princess, but just in case any of you were wondering, here is proof that I am not.

Reason Number One That I Am Not a Disney Princess:
A Disney princess would never lie to her grandmother about Princess Aurora being at the door.

2. My sixteenth birthday passed without incidence. No spinning wheel. No betrothal. Not even a date. I remember reading the story of Sleeping Beauty to my little brothers and sisters at the aforementioned age of sixteen and being somewhat disgusted by the expectation that anyone, royal or no, would be expected to be married at 16. I was also perturbed by Aurora/Briar Rose/Sleeping Beauty's clear complexion at what should have been the height of hormonal eruptions--at least, according to my own experience--which brings us to my next point.

3. Disney princesses don't have acne. I mean, while others in the world are waiting for more ethnically diverse princesses, I'm here waiting for a princess of any color or nationality who possesses the age-appropriate facial blemishes typical of teen years/early adulthood. (Sorry teenagers, somebody has got to tell you the truth: those spots aren't going to magically disappear on your eighteenth birthday. Maybe not even your twenty-first. Disney--and everyone else--lies. My apologies, but this is the cold, hard reality that you will soon be facing.) The best representation I've gotten so far is this guy from Tangled who sings, "I have scars and lumps and bruises--and something here that oozes. And let's not even mention my complexion!" (He also has a goiter and an extra toe.) Don't worry, though, he finds his love connection in the end, so it's fine.

4. I'm not exactly chipper and perky. Sometimes I even yell. Not the "This is the best day ever!" or "Leave him alone (I'm defending justice)!" kind of yell, but the "Stupid! Adult acne! I HATE . . . ! (Grumble, Grumble)!" kind of yell. When I was in the "I wanna be a princess" phase of my life, my mother told me that princesses don't shriek while their hair is being brushed. Try as I might to softly whisper "Ow!" as my hair was pulled, I remained unsuccessful in my attempts at royal behavior. That might have been when my application for princess status was originally declined.

5. I don't rescue and allow mice to clean my house or make me dresses while they sing. (Nor do I rescue and allow mice to clean my house or make me dresses while they don't sing. Animal servitude: just another thing for PETA to get worked up about.) In fact, I go out of my way to kill and remove mice that enter my house. And by that I mean, I have my charming husband do it because I don't like to be within singing distance of the little critters. (Some of you will remember my last year's run-in with a mouse in my house.)  It's always nice to make new friends?! Not if they have furry-scurry feet and the potential to carry hantavirus, it's not!

6. I guess the most compelling argument that I'm not a Disney princess is that I'm a real person. I'm not animated and living in a fictional world where the best options one has for friendship include chipmunks and an enchanted tea set. I suppose, though, if we consider Pocahontas (who I was quite convinced was named Hocahontas with an "H," for some reason. Probably the same reason I thought that "Ballyball" was a sport: an early affinity for alliteration.) to be a Disney princess, she was a real person. She just wasn't the same real person as she was animated to be. Maybe I could be a Disney princess; Disney would just have to take a lot of liberty and exercise a lot of artistic license in telling my story.

Now that I consider it, not all Disney princesses befriend rodents. At least a few have been known to throw temper tantrums. And with the additions of Merida and Elsa, not even all of the princesses had beaus by their sixteenth birthdays--or even the end of their respective films. When I'm downright honest, I'm not familiar enough with any of the Disney princesses to say that there isn't one who wouldn't lie to her grandmother about Sleeping Beauty's presence at the door. Apparently the only thing standing between myself and Disney-fied Princessitude is a few blemishes. And really, what is artistic license for, if not the removal of pimples?

It would seem, that as in so many instances of examining the "facts," I am just as lost and confused as I was when I began. Is there nothing in this world of which we can be sure? We--the possibly royal "we," not the Gollum "we"--are not amused with this prospect. After all, Descartes postulated that we can't be certain of anything--except the whole "I think, therefore I am" bit. But I don't think his theories--or those of any other philosophers, for that matter--included quotes to the effect of "I think, therefore I am NOT a Disney princess." Could Descartes be a . . . Oh, don't be ridiculous!

What sort of skeptic's attitude is that, anyway? Of course there are absolute truths in this world of which we can be certain! For example, I am absolutely SURE that, at least in my head, Pocahontas' name is spelled with a "P," there is a sport called volleyball, and that in spite of these things, I still like alliteration. And you know, if I AM a Disney princess, I am the uniquely unorthodox underdog of the upper class.
 

My Child Screams; I'm Trying Not To.

Time for me to come clean.

There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong . . .

Wait . . . that's not my confession--that's the introduction to "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables. Not quite the same, but sort of. What I meant to say was:

There was a time when kids would scream
and it meant they were spoiled
and their parents were slacking
There was a time
Then my thoughts were foiled!

Because really, I used to be one of those young people with no parenting experience who would hear the wailings of toddlers and small children and think, "My goodness! Can't you make them stop?" And worse, beyond thinking that, I honestly believed it. I truly thought that about 80% of the time parents could make their children stop screaming by sheer force of excellent parenting.

It is with humble heart (and a screaming toddler) that I approach the internet to say I'm sorry. And wrong. And tired of failing to understand what's wrong. Because everything. Warrants. A scream.

Now, please don't gloat. (You're doing it anyway! I can feel your smugness over the network connection, now stop it!) We all learn different things at different times, and I was just slower on this one, all right? Besides, think back to when it was you, be the bigger person, and find it in your soul to pity me. Recall the first--no matter how early or late in your child's life--time you realized that your "precious sweetums" (No, of course I don't call my kid that, but if YOU do, that's lovely!) was not actually a full-blooded angel. Not because angels don't have blood, but because your child was not behaving in an angelic manner. It's a disappointing moment, but you know, it happens.

The time will come when the adorable larva that once rolled on your floor will take his or her first steps, and you will think it is sweet--until those steps lead them up to the kitchen table at every opportunity of unsupervision. Soft gurgles and laughs will turn to high-pitched shrieks of anger and a mischievous cackle that you just don't trust. And as these--and other just as horrifying--things happen, you will ask yourself what it is you're doing wrong or what more you could do to stop these uncivilized behaviors. I hope at this point you will come to the same conclusion that I have: you can do nothing. I am only half kidding.

Sure, you can do the normal parent stuff--the stuff you're probably already doing--but when it comes down to it, just realize that most of this is happening not because you're a bad parent. It's simply happening because you're raising a precocious 15 month old who thinks the terrible twos sound like great fun. Of course, I can really only speak from my own experience, so maybe your child really is spoiled (please read this with a good-natured tone and smile injected), but I think when your child's personality outgrows his or her language development, you're bound to experience some frustration.

Shall I add insult to injury? The other day we were watching Super Why!--which we sometimes do when the day is long and the sounds of despair are many--and we caught an episode in which the Super Readers' friend, Wolfie (Wolfy? Wolfee? I'm sticking with Wolfie.), kept growling because he was upset. The moral of that story was "Use your words!" Which is great, except, guess what? Sporadic vocabulary of maybe three words--none of which is "words." So, that's awesome.

At least we're to the point now where I can tell she understands some of my words. That's a start, right? I was extremely excited the day I told Melody "No!" and she understood. Little did I realize how much more frustrating it is to be heard, understood, and ignored than it is to simply not be understood. With limited communication skills and even less patience, what's a mom to do?

Hang in there, I guess. Enjoy the screams from bed that mean "I'm awake and ready to come out!" Bask in the screams from the other side of the bathroom door that mean "MOM! What are you doing in there, and why can't I come in?" Revel in the screams that mean "That thing you're doing looks fun! Let me do it with you. And climb on you. And throw books in your face. And stick my finger up your nose, and . . . Mom, why aren't we doing that fun thing anymore, mom . . . ?" and all the other cryptic screams that set your teeth to gritting.

But better than that, enjoy (wholly and sincerely) the moments when she does heed your commands. When she throws her arms around you and hugs you so tightly that you wish your day would stop and all afternoon could just be little arms, a head on your shoulder, and happy smiles. Meditate upon watching her set out her play dishes, fold her arms, and "pray" before "eating." Savor seeing her lay down on the floor next to her daddy and snuggle her head into the crook of his elbow. Pay attention to the sweet moments of joy and let them blur the memory of tantrums. In doing so, you may become aware of just how much more frequently the cute and well-behaved make an appearance than the out-of-control and bratty. To quote Pollyanna (who was not actually quoting Abraham Lincoln), "When you look for the bad in mankind expecting to find it, you surely will." Now, take that, invert it, and don't be too hard on yourself: you're raising quite an enjoyable child.

Peace Like a River

Oh, this world we're living in.

It seems like each day, there's something new to be riled up about. I am occasionally blinded by confusion over happenings in the country (Candidates, ugh!), my family (Having to accept the choices of others can stink), and even the church, occasionally (Heartburn over the situation with the BSA). Instead of seeing “Trees of green, red roses, too . . . ,” in this wonderful world, I can get caught up in the trials I witness and the issues I can't understand. In these times, I call upon my faith and one of my favorite paraphrases of scripture: “Peace like a river.”

The concept of having peace like a river shows up many places in scripture and has been turned into some lovely songs. I love the imagery that comes each time the scriptures mention rivers. As Lehi reminds us in 1 Nephi 2:9, they are continually flowing. We can count on the river to be constantly moving—always forward, regardless of the obstacles that may be encountered.

I have loved the peace like a river metaphor for awhile now, but time and thought deepen my love and understanding of the phrase. When I originally took note, I think I imagined the beauty and calm of a river segment somewhat like this one. It didn't take me long before I realized that rivers don't always look so placid. Sometimes they look like this, this, or even this. (At this point, you're probably very glad that I've shown you all these pictures of rivers, since you may not have known what I was talking about in the beginning. Be advised that I am now talking about the river in all its incarnations. Except this one.)

Not all of these rivers seemed calm to me. And yet . . . I was oddly okay with the phrase “Peace like a river” applying to each of them. Examining all, I found that rivers, regardless of their state of flowing, bring me peace.

But how? And does the analogy apply in less than tranquil cases? I submit to you that yes, it does. I believe it is possible to experience peace in situations that would seemingly leave us battered and breathless against the endless stones and torrents.

The Guide to the Scriptures gives the following insight/definition to the word peace: “In the scriptures, peace can mean either freedom from conflict and turmoil or the inner calm and comfort born of the Spirit that God gives to his faithful Saints.”

God can take us out of the conflict, but he often takes the conflict out of us.

D&C 121:33 prompts some thought: 

How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints.

Paul echoes these assurances; “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).”

The flow of the water isn't always slow and easy, but it's at the most turbulent moments that the river can be most powerful—if we can only endure to partake of the clarity of mind available to us. As the scripture in Philippians suggests, we may not understand how, but the peace of God can trump all understanding—or lack thereof, and keep us focused on the Savior. And, as we learn from Nephi, if we live according to the commandments, “then [will] thy peace [be] as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea (1 Nephi 20:18).” We, like the river, can become an unstoppable force for good.

Henry B. Eyring said it this way:

If we have faith in Jesus Christ, the hardest as well as the easiest times in life can be a blessing. In all conditions, we can choose the right with the guidance of the Spirit. We have the gospel of Jesus Christ to shape and guide our lives if we choose it. And with prophets revealing to us our place in the plan of salvation, we can live with perfect hope and a feeling of peace. We never need to feel that we are alone or unloved in the Lord’s service because we never are. We can feel the love of God. The Savior has promised angels on our left and our right to bear us up. And He always keeps His word. ("Mountains to Climb," April 2012, Emphasis added.)

I conclude with some lyrics from one of my favorite songs and a few more thoughts.

So, hold on thy way,

For I shall be with thee.

And my angels shall encircle thee.

Doubt not what thou knowest,

Fear not man, for he

Cannot hurt thee. . . .

My kindness shall not depart from thee.

("My Kindness Shall Not Depart From Thee," Words and Music by Rob Gardner)

Yes, I sometimes experience frustrations, and life can be filled with turmoil. But without my faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ, and His atonement, I would be forever hopeless, depressed, and anxious. If my testimony were in the feeling I get when I go to church, the organization of it, people who attend, or even the character of the leadership of the church, I would have left long ago. It is not; however, so I have not, and I will not. Whatever else may happen in my life, I continue to have faith in God and cannot deny the truthfulness of the gospel nor the critical way in which I need Jesus Christ's atonement. So, amid the rocks and rapids of the world, church, and family, I will continue downstream with the peace that comes from doing what I know I need to do.

(BONUS: I love this talk by Elder Neal A. Maxwell, but didn't use it. Please enjoy it--the parts that are relevant to this topic, and those that aren't, but are still great!)

Dove, Doors, and WHO AM I, REALLY?

Complete the following quote from the popular musical, West Side Story:

"I feel ______!" 

A. Pretty

B. Average

C. Pretty average

###

You've probably seen at least one of Dove's Real Beauty Campaign videos: The one in which a rather typical looking woman is transformed (by means of multiple stylists, cosmetic products, and some Photoshop magic) into the sort of model we would normally see in advertising, or this depiction of women describing their own looks versus the much more positively described perceptions of others. I just saw their new segment involving a couple of signs (“Beautiful” and “Average”) labeling doors, and women choosing which door they enter. As would be expected, many women did not identify as “Beautiful,” and as such, chose to walk through the door marked “Average.” This simple act was foisted as a tragedy. I disagree.

While I agree that women should love themselves, I actually don't see feeling beautiful as a requirement to loving one's self. I certainly don't believe them to be synonymous. There is also the curious observation that my healthy perceptions of my own beauty are often indicative of the way I feel about myself overall, though not necessarily the other way around.

I'm not disputing the claim that we are all beautiful; I whole-heartedly support this idea. But in a world of such beautiful individuals, I believe the average (if we could model such objective concepts mathematically) to still be . . . beautiful. I find it perfectly acceptable that I identify with the status quo in a world where the standard level of loveliness is so high.

Besides, if there were multiple entry options, which door would each of us choose? Given my wide range of talents, abilities, and strengths (I've deactivated my sarcasm, so take me seriously!) I would not simplify my “me-ness” to be my outer shell—beautiful as it may be. Is that okay? Well, I'm okay with it, and around here, I make the rules. What I truly think and feel about myself when I'm alone is far more significant than an arbitrary door chosen when others were looking. A more telling choice than a publicly declared “Average” or “Beautiful” may be a privately determined “Beautiful,” “Compassionate,” “Creative,” “Intelligent,” (etc.) “All of the Above,” or “None of the Above.” Or, we could get right down to the heart of what we want to know—“Love myself,” or “What's there to love?”

This gets a bit deeper and grittier than the previously selected euphemisms, but if our goal is truly to find struggling women and help them feel good about themselves, why pretend? Let's do be real: If we want to make a change, there are more lasting and substantial ways to boost girls' and women's self-esteem levels (or, you know, anyone's—regardless of age or gender). Must all of our lifting be based on [feelings about] appearances? Let's sink our foundation deeper than that.

So we feel that our looks are average, or perhaps we think we're beautiful: Let us all walk through that door with confidence. I'm okay with whatever I may see when I look in the mirror because I know I am more than can be seen. With my average looks, my wit that exceeds expectations, and my satisfactory-level intelligence and kindness (among many other positive traits), I think I comprise a rather enjoyable package. I love me, and would invite you to do the same for yourself—regardless of the doors you may be walking through.

Confessions of a Cold-Hearted Curmudgeon

I've been away for a long while. I'd like to say that it's because I've been doing wonderful things, my house is clean, and I just haven't had time to write. Mostly I'd like to say that because it sounds a lot better than “I've been struggling to keep up with my own life . . . and, I've been watching a bit of Doctor Who on the side . . .” Because, ladies and gentlemen, I HAVE been watching a bit of Doctor Who. This is proof of my frailty as a mortal being.

You may not know this, but I am an ornery little cuss. Heart-warming videos with “Get the tissues, you're going to cry!” or “Look at all these laughing babies. Bet you can't watch the whole video without cracking a smile!!!!!” in the description become a personal challenge for me. “Oh? You think you're going to make me feel something? Doubtful.” I am so contrary that I have avoided books, movies, and etc. that have come highly recommended (“You will love this!”) because my pride can't handle the only two outcomes that ever occur: 1. They're right, I do love it; there goes my independence. Or, 2. HA! They were wrong! What a waste of my time. (This makes for a hollow victory, because really, I prefer being right while enjoying my media intake.)

This need to be right and in control of my emotions has led me to two things I always swore I would never do. (BTW, this seems an appropriate time to tell you that sometimes, I intentionally use the word "never"—just to stick it to Justin Bieber. “Never say never”? Psh. I do what I want.) Anyway, those two things? That I would never watch Doctor Who, and that I would never mourn the loss of a famous individual. You already know that the first never has been rescinded, so it's time I tell you about the second.

I have lived my life harshly scorning the hyped-up media coverage surrounding the deaths of celebrities. Insensitively, I rolled my eyes when fervent fans flooded the internet with expressions of sadness: “She (or he) touched my life. I am so sad,” “Watching all of their films in remembrance!” and of course, many eloquently stated “OMG. CaN't even beleeve this”-es, or something to that effect.

And I asked myself why they were all carrying on as though they had lost a dear friend or family member. I coldly accused the masses of having deluded themselves into thinking they had a relationship with this individual, made the base assessment that these people were—in effect—mourning the loss of an imaginary friend, and carried on with my own self-absorbed endeavors. But that was before today.

Today marks the passing of Leonard Nimoy. And while I'm not going to tell you that I've cried or that my life has changed dramatically due to his creative genius, I will tell you that I feel his departure with a sort of pensive melancholy that was previously unknown to me in this context. Also, it is entirely possible that Alex and I will be watching a bit of TOS this evening in remembrance of our favorite science officer. While we may not be full-out mourning, I can admit that Mr. Nimoy will be missed. How appropriate that he would be the one forcing my admittance of my own humanity.

So, whether you were a close friend, family member, or a distant admirer of the man, the Vulcan, and the actor, I am sorry for your loss. Your choice in feelings seems quite logical.