Plan of Happiness

Tonight we talked a little about the Plan of Happiness and S got really excited about it and said, "How old was I in Heaven?"

I answered honestly, "I don't know. I haven't really thought of that before."

R said, "You were probably ten."

S replied, "Maybe I was seven."

T echoed, "Seven."

"Maybe," was all I could muster.

Definitely need to study the scriptures some more. :)

T Getting Ready

Yesterday T decided it was time to take getting ready for the day into his own hands.

I was putting on my make-up and turned to find that T had my lip gloss.

He smiled really big and said, "Mom, I need more wips (lips)."

This was in the bathroom, where there was the best light.  This is a general synopsis of what was said:


m: What is on your face?
t: Cheese.
m: What is on your face?

t: My face.
m: Oh really?
t: My wips are on my face.
m: Oh really? What else is on your face? Is it lip gloss?
t: Wip goss.
t: The wip goss is always, always, always. Cheese.


How I love that snuggly little fellow and his wips.

By the way my story has been updated. See it here  http://www.watcheroftime.blogspot.com/.

Public Transit

A couple of days ago, S, T, and I went to Manhattan to one of the Little Airplane research sessions for a new Disney show they have called Jungle Junction.

On the way there we took a bus.  Normally one can get on a bus and stand in one place, letting go of the bar of stability for a few seconds at a time.  Well, not this time.  It was okay for me to put my card in, but in that 3 second or less spot of time S and T and run back to the middle of the bus.  Of course, when I was done running my card through the bus driver pressed on the gas like he was starting the Indy 500.  

In that moment of flying through the air and finding and grasping the bar of stability (the one over the passengers) that I attempted to secure my children.  But the bus was pretty semi-packed and they were at least five feet ahead of me. Thankfully, people had grabbed S and T's hands and were holding them in place until I could get there. 

It was a little scary because it felt like a standing version of the popular theme park ride "Mouse Trap" (or something like that).  You know the one where you get off feeling like you may  need to visit the chiropractor for the next six months or like the Scarecrow on The Wizard Of Oz.  You know the part:

Scarecrow: First they [referring to the Flying Monkeys] took my legs off and they threw them over there! Then they took my chest out and they threw it over there!
Tin Woodsman: Well, that's you all over!

I felt so thankful for those dear people that were making sure my children were not flying across the bus.  I kept trying to make my way back to help with T, but every time I tried to move on the bar the bus would either lurch to a start or screech to a stop.  I was holding on for dear life.  Finally they had a stop where about five people got on and off and I had a moment to grab T and S. A man in the special needs row moved so I could set T down. Gratitude for these people was immense.  

Then an elderly man got on and gave me the frozen look of  "I deserve to be in that row, not your meddling kids."  I did the best I could to ignore the guy--as much as I did want to give him a seat, there was no way I was going to put my kidlets' lives into jeopardy so he could sit. We got off a couple of stops later.

Then on the way back from the session, S was trying so hard to fall asleep.  We had to switch trains, and she was practically sleep walking as we got on.  Then a kind man moved so she could sit.  On her way there the train lurched into movement and so did S, over the feet of three other passenger--losing her shoes in the tumult.

She let out an Oscar-winning type of cry of mortal pain, everyone in the car stared at us.  I was sure someone was going to offer to call the train operator for an ambulance, but they held their ground as I scooped her up, stepped as quickly as I could to the open spot and tried to soothe the dear, tired soul. She cried for a good 20 seconds until I offered to tell her a story. It was not a great story, but she didn't care. After her sleepiness wore off, I had her rapt attention (and the attention of a few other passengers--which I did not expect.  It was about a potato after all).

One of them even complemented me about it, saying she was considering getting off a stop later so she  could hear the rest--which made me feel great.

When we got off, though we were disheveled and such, we felt happy and ready for the walk home. 

If any of the kind people that went out of their way to help us read this, thank you very much!

Time Watcher Won

As you may have seen, from the poll I took and the postings for the story the results were the time watcher.

I am hoping to add a post each week, though it may be more often.

There will be more details, but the synopsis, as of now is about a girl that finds that she is a time watcher. The time watcher has an "anchor time" which he/she watches several times, from different angles--but cannot--for the most part--interact with the people she sees. Some time watchers have more abilities than others and it is a process of discovery. It is her adventure to find out what is happening, why it happens, what she is supposed to do with her knowledge, and how she will avoid those trying to stop her from doing it again.

Sound exciting enough?

Since it is my first published story, I claim the right to change things along the way (if it is significant I will let you know in the comments).

Let me know what you think. :) Thanks!

You can find it at watcheroftime.blogspot.com.

Oh, her "anchor time" is based on a short time in my great-great-great-great grandmother's life.

A Severe Case of Camera Envy

The other day Ashley, Jill and I took our 2-year-olds and went to the Hick's Family Nursery in Long Island. We went on a hay ride and saw the talking parrot (the first one I've ever met--I think he really liked us--he kept doing the yoo-hoo whistle), saw the fish, saw the animals in the "petting" zoo. We did not get to pet the animals but they had a large assortment to watch varying from peacocks, pig, hens, roosters, goats, sheep, grouse, etc. The kids loved it--they climbed the fence keeping the people and the animals apart. The children pointed and occasionally said what the animals were. Mostly T, L, and D just stared at the animals and the animals ate and stared back.



I feel sure I have seen this witch somewhere before. Is she on the Smurfs as Gargamel's girlfriend, Glare-a-bell? Or is she the bad witch from Gummi Bears? Never mind. The kids had fun in her stew pot.



Ashley was trying out her new camera and I was struck with an immense case of camera envy. I'll admit I have had it before, like when we visit W's family and they pull out their uber-professional cameras and snap pictures like crazy--with amazing results. But it struck me in a whole new way this time. Probably because I didn't even need to imagine using photo shop to make the photo look better and because Ashley is a fellow mom and I could imagine myself using such a camera on a daily basis. She probably thought it was a little funny I snapped so many pictures when she let me take pictures of she and L, but I couldn't help it. It was so difficult to stop my snapping fingers (punny, huh).


I think I really NEED a nice camera. I am sure my children, grand children, great-grand children, etc. NEED to see the past in beautiful clarity. It wasn't until I saw our kids grinning back at me through the lcd screen that my appetite for beautiful practically professional photos struck me like a wet towel fight during a sibling dish washing session.

I can imagine it now, a telepathic letter sent through the folds of time from the year 2099 (I'll still be alive and 120-150 will be the new middle age. It will be amazing).

Dear Momsie and Popsicle:
We know you think you're doing all you can, bless your hearts, but is there any chance in a blue moon that you could please update your camera. I know it doesn't seem too pressing right now, but when in thirty years when all cameras become 3-D and 3 years after that when they can animate any still photo and add sound from 2010 and forward. You need to get a new camera ASAP for the sake of the children (us). Love you dearly! Love, your progeny


To send to the future I would write telepathically:

Dear Progeny:
I understand your desire to have useful pictures. I am making an effort to convince your dear sweet Popsicle that this is a necessity, but he seems to feel it is an unnecessary luxury. I think only tears and rants will change his mind of this and since crying gives me a headache--I would rather laugh (thank you Sister Hinckley) and ranting makes me grouchy, I feel for your sakes now, it may be better if we waited on the camera. But I'm hoping . . .

Please excuse the cell phone pictures (if you know what those are--they are these big things we hold up to our faces to talk--they added little cameras to them and they are not very good yet). Love you still, always and forever. Love, Momsie

I am pretty sure they're sending another message.
Pretty please, with a cherry on top, Momsie? Oh, and the you of the future says pray, work hard, enjoy, don't stress, drink lots of water, go for long walks and to please wear sunscreen. Love, Your heirs.



Thank you futurians.

Gladness

Today I picked R and S up from school a little early.

I talked to S's teacher for a moment and S zipped back to the doorway of her classroom and hollered, "Bye."

The whole class echoed cheerfully, "Bye."

Then four little girls scuttled to the door for a dear good-bye hug. S eagerly hugged them back.

It felt like I was getting a hug too. It made me so happy to see how happy my child was with the other children.

Prayer answered. Gratitude a plenty. Blessedness increases.

Guardian Angels

Tonight I told the kids a story about W's mission to Honduras. It went something like this:

When Daddy was on his mission Hurricane Mitch came. Right before it got there the Mission President told the missionaries to get out of their areas and head to the high area of the mission.

Hurricane Mitch came but it did not do as much damage as the flooding it caused afterward. The water came up and washed away the homes. The bishop of the ward in which he was serving had a truck (a rarity) and he drove around right before the hurricane and picked up members of the ward and took them to higher ground saving the lives of his family and ward members. The bishop's house and many members of the ward had their homes washed away.

Afterward the missionaries went back and helped clean up.

S piped in, "Was I a baby then, Mom?"
I said, "No, you weren't born yet sweetie. This was before I had met Daddy."
She said, "Then I must have been an angel in the car with them, helping."
R said, "Me too."


Oh, my heart. How I love my dearies!

Happiness is . . .

Have you ever in your long-legged life . . .

Looked around you and just felt so much love and happiness you wanted to put it into zip-lock bags and store it in your freezer for those days that joy seems slightly deficient?

Sometimes I feel so glad and thankful that I feel like my heart is growing four sizes larger inside my body.

Like the times I put the kids to bed and they beg, "Tell us a story, Mom." Then they listen in rapt attention as the story is weaved, sometimes laughing out loud and sometimes letting out wails of "Why did he do that?" When I stop at places in the story where stakes are high for the protagonist just to enjoy the moment an instant longer before the kids ask in exasperation, "Mom, please keep telling the story!!"

Or maybe it is the times that W comes home and tells me I look beautiful. Then he tells me about his day. I tell him the funny things the kids have said or done and we laugh together. Or when he tells me he gives my meal a 10 because it tastes so good, like last night.

Maybe it is the times my kids comes home and exclaim, "Mom. The house. It's clean!"

These are the moments I wish I could mush together like peanut butter and slather it on a piece of freshly baked bread and take big bites --every single day.

Okay, now I am going to go eat breakfast. :D Have a glorious day!

writing a blog story-- a blory

Would you be interested in reading a blog that is a story I am writing. I am hoping with the energy that seems to flow with me and blogs it will fuel my efforts in writing a story. It is just that lately I have had so many ideas floating around in my brain. Would you like to hear about. . .

a. a robot island
b. a time watcher (not just a person that sits and watches clocks)
c. a magic library
d. conspiracy theory

I know they are all really like what you hear, read and see all the time. But, you've not heard my take on them. They won't be super long--most likely. What do you think?