Monday, June 30, 2008

Where do I start? Cute child comments? (Jeffrey's notes in sacrament meeting: "Thou shalt not be idle. If you are idle, thou art crazy"--and no, he didn't hear that from any of the speakers)

Terrible home stories? (Ok, Nathan painting on the carpet and leaving permanent paint signatures is nothing compared to poor Jake flooding his basement or Sara wearing a midnight snack instead of eating one)

Funny comics? (Recently, the gas pump holding up the customer in good ole' robber style comes to mind, or the pump requesting the customer to insert credit card, then annual salary, etc, and ending by saying, "Your loan has been approved. You may now fill up.")

Hilarious Youtube videos? (Like "Charlie bit me," only funny if someone who's already watched it is introducing it to you. Or any of the Igudesman & Joo videos http://youtube.com/watch?v=knuBCQgnHrM&feature=related)

Nervous stories? (Ok, I just threw that one in because today I was asked to give a 5 minute talk at our visiting teaching conference. At least I wasn't so nervous I asked the same person to give the closing prayer that gave the opening prayer, which happened to a nervous young gal once)

Or should I start with the name of my blog? It's not nearly as creative as some (Daisy Dance, I love your "b(lah)g," and Stacy, I love "The Perfect Chord"). I've debated between "Indecisive," because I am; it's one of the big reasons I haven't made a blog yet, because I didn't know what to name it. Another option was "Outnumbered," since I'm one girl among 4 males. If you have any other ideas, please post them. I love my sister Katie Knoll's blog, "Inspiration Knoll."

But I've found parenthood to be harder than anything I ever expected. Though I have not lost hope, reality continues to rear its ugly head, and I realize how temporal our mortal existence is. Sometimes it's discouraging to realize that we spend most of our time dealing with temporal things even though we strive to become celestial beings in the long run. It's hard to feel the Spirit when your kids are fighting, the phone is ringing, the house is messy, and someone has an accident in their pants, while another one has spilled sticky juice on the floor and someone's at the door.

But the good news is, even though I'm a recovering idealist, I keep learning things along the way that shift my perspective in how I approach life. Though I don't approach it with the rosy glasses of yesteryear, I try to live in the precious moments when they happen. A great example is a recent car ride to church. We started singing primary songs, and one of the kids piped up about a favorite song, "I See My Mother Kneeling." We start singing it, and in my mind I take a mental snapshot of this special, warm experience. Then enters reality--Jeffrey or Bryce turns to the other hotly and starts snapping, "I can't hear you singing!," and the fighting begins. But in that moment, I didn't even feel discouraged. It was humorous to me, the ideal mixed with the real, and I was glad to catch that glimpse of the eternal warmth of a happy family.

So I'll end my first blog (yes, I know, even my first entry is as long-winded as I am!) with a quote that balances my recovering idealist nature (recovering meaning I haven't fully recovered yet in hoping my kids will turn into cheerful, obedient, sharing bite-sized humans):

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just ordinary people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. . . .
Life is like an old-time rail journey--delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."
Jenkins Lloyd Jones, Deseret News, 12 June 1973, A4
Often quoted by former Prophet and President of the LDS church, Gordon B. Hinckley