Reality Check

I just found out why none of the parents of my elementary school book group batted an eyelash over our discussion of constipation. I was at the doctor's office for Claire's appointment this morning. The waiting room had the cable channel Disney XD on. There was a play-doh commercial, with a toy dog that defecates play-doh. We don't have cable. I had no idea South Park's Mr. Hanky (who I thought was the most shocking, disgusting character of all time 17 (has it really been so long?) years ago, had permeated all of pop culture. Or maybe it's not even South Park's fault. I have no idea. After meeting Mr. Hanky, I retreated into a bubble and I'm sorry whenever leave it. Like when I go to a children's waiting room.

Parent Voluteer

The elementary school does this voluntary book club thing where kids are divided into groups of 5, they all read the same book, and then a parent joins them for lunch in the library to discuss the book. It's the one thing I've helped with this year. (I thought I'd done something else, because I remember making the tremendous effort of taking Julia the 2-yr-old to school, but then I remembered that was just going to watch the Halloween parade. Whew. Exhausting. Wish I were kidding.)

Anyway, I baked a Sam's Club cheese pizza (eh, I don't recommend Sam's take and bake pizza's), loaded up Julia, and took it in to the school for our little book club. (The organizer of this thing says you should get there early to set up the library tables beforehand. "The time goes so quickly!" This is a lie. Time with other people's children never goes quickly. Do not show up early.)

To sum up, here's the e-mail I sent to the parents of the children in my group afterwards, just in case they heard strange things from their child and wanted to make a complaint (i.e. ban me from the school, which wouldn't be a big deal, since I'm hardly ever there anyway).

I hope you all find this more amusing than offensive; regardless, honesty is the best policy.

Naturally, during our discussion of 'Mason Dixon: Pet Disasters,' the kids talked about their pets. One child mentioned a dog his family once had that gave birth to pups and then died. Another group member exclaimed, "The dog died of constipation!" I thought that was odd, and said I knew a man who died of constipation. [Note: you might want to reassure your children that almost nobody dies from constipation--the man I mentioned had a cancerous blockage.] This statement caused some confusion as at least one group member thought constipation had something to do with pregnant women only. I then explained that constipation means you can't poop. (My sister was right. I have an annoying compulsion to correct people when they're wrong. I'm sorry I did this in front of your children.) Anyway, after that, I steered our discussion away from the bowels. You can rest easy, knowing I won't be hosting Chat and Chew again for at least 6 years, when my 2-yr-old will be in 3rd grade.

I left out how difficult it was to steer the discussion away from excrement. One kid told us two stories: one about a man who committed suicide by jumping into a pool of manure, and another about a gun that either shoots poop, or shoots out mud that looks like it. And despite all the . . . stimulating. . . conversation, I sent them out to recess 5 minutes early because the time refused to go quickly. The End.

split personality

Today Julia was arguing with herself:

"No, I cute."

"No, I cute."

"No, I cute."

"No, I cute."

In other news, she poured some salt, tried to get into the sugar (foiled by Claire! Hurray for Claire!) and watched Frosty the Snowman, Curious George, and My Little Pony.

Thoughts on 'Ordain Women'

Note: I love my husband, son, father, grandfathers, brothers, and male cousins.  I like men in general, and believe they are no less (though no more) important than women.  The intent of this article is not to disparage men.

I recently skimmed through an article by a 'post Mormon' woman who longs for women to be ordained to the priesthood in the LDS church.  She sites examples of early LDS women being ordained to the priesthood and giving healing blessings.  She also describes the day her baby was given a name and blessing, her bishop wouldn't let her stand in the circle, and that's when she fell away.

I am saddened and frustrated by people like her, just like I'm saddened and frustrated by most people in the feminist movement.  They grew up reading history books where only women like Queen Elizabeth I and Joan of Arc are mentioned, and form erroneous beliefs such as, "If women aren't prominent leaders, wealthy, or involved in war, they don't matter."  They (the Ordain Women crowd and feminists in general) fail to notice that we grew up seeing history through the eyes of men, because men were the historians.  Thus, history books are crowded with political leaders and violence, because men like that kind of stuff.  Now if women had been the historians, I'm willing to bet we'd have seen a different historical emphasis: more information on what it took to clothe and feed soldiers and those left at home during wars; how they took care of problems like menstruation and diapering babies without tampons and disposable diapers; what people thought and felt in certain situations.  Here's a sordid example.  If women were the historians, there would be no debate over whether or not Sally Hemings was Thomas Jefferson's concubine and mother to six of his children.  We'd know how Sally felt about Thomas, how she felt about his wife/her half-sister, how her half-sister felt about her, whether perhaps atheism appealed to Jefferson because it helped him feel less guilty about being an adulterer.  I'm not saying the history books would have necessarily been better, just more interesting to people like me, who are women.

Back to the post-Mormon lady.  She had just performed perhaps the most important miracle that ever happens in this world: providing a body for one of God's spirit children.  Jesus Himself couldn't do it.  (Yes, I am aware women cannot conceive a child without a man.  However, I think most men would agree that God and women deserve the credit for the creation of a new life.) Assuming she and her husband were married in the temple, she, by giving birth, also sealed that baby to her and her husband for time and all eternity.  In short, she had just performed a saving ordinance.  (I've never heard this taught in General Conference, but I had a bishop who taught it, and it can definitely be inferred from the Church Handbook.)  But, there wasn't a congregation watching, and she probably didn't have a microphone at the time, so is that why she felt she had to be part of the baby blessing (which, wonderful as it is, is not a saving ordinance)?  I don't know.  I'm trying to figure out the Ordain Women women, and perhaps I'm missing something.  But as the daughter of a bishop and former member of a stake presidency, I know that holding the priesthood and being in one of those higher-up priesthood offices is nothing more than a heavy call to serve.  Those who think priesthood leaders get more glory and power than everyone else are misled.  Bishops, stake presidents, and patriarchs are servants, and I've been privileged to know some darn good ones.  However, I'm certain their service is not any more important or glorious in God's eyes than my mother's.

I do not know why some women in the past have been authorized to do certain things through the priesthood, whether in the Old Testament or in the early days of the Church in this dispensation.  However, either Jesus Christ is at the helm of this Church, or He isn't.  I believe He is, and if I know one thing, it's that He has good reasons for doing things they way He does.  When I trust Him, I am blessed.  When I don't, I regret it.  I also know you don't have to be a priesthood holder to bless people.  In the summer of 2013 we were preparing for yet another move.  I had an impression from the Spirit that I needed to exercise to cope with the stress of moving.  But who has time to exercise when you've got four kids, your husband works long hours, and you've got a house to sell and one to buy?  So I didn't exercise.  Before long, I was so sick I could hardly walk (fever for at least a week, wracking cough, nurse practitioner put me on the wrong antibiotic, etc.)  The doctor finally got me on the right antibiotic, and my husband and a member of our bishopric gave me a blessing, which I was grateful for. However, they couldn't miraculously heal me.  I'd already been given the miracle (knowing I should exercise to avoid getting sick), and I'd ignore it.  When you disregard heavenly counsel, you can expect to pay the price. Unless a savior steps in.  Enter a dear woman named Chris Bingham.  In one evening, she and her sweet daughter Rachel cleaned my house, fed my family, and nurtured my children.  (They talked about Chris with fondness and longing for weeks afterwards.)  And that's when I got well.  If you doubt Chris's part in my healing, you've never tried to rest amid clamoring hungry children and knowing the dirty dishes are piled halfway to the ceiling, patiently waiting for the day you can drag yourself out of bed; it's debilitating.  Chris never laid hands on my head, yet she gave me a much needed blessing.  Oh, and her husband had (and still has) a brain tumor.  Yet she did all that for me. She's wonderful.

I could go on for another thirty minutes, but I won't.

Celebrate womanhood.

Stop pretending Church leaders oppress women. If a few do, amen to the priesthood of such men.

And finally, there are only four vitally important roles to fill in this life: wife, mother, husband, father. Whether you're privileged to fill half of those roles or not, do your best and you'll be doing God's work.

When They Grow Up

Damon wants to be an engineer/inventor.

Claire wants to be a professional recycler.

Anne wants to be the mother of two sets of twins.  The twin girls will be named Rebecca and Elisabeth.  She'd also like to be an artist, a chef, and/or a storybook writer. Never mind. That was then.  Now she wants to be a school principal, a teacher, or a lunch lady who makes good school lunches--no plastic hot dogs.

Julia might make a good librarian.  She likes to shush people.
--Julia, don't hit.
   --Shshsh.
--Julia, it's time for a nap.
  --Shshsh.
--We've got to change your diaper, Juje.
  --Shshsh!

How to Kill a Mockingbird

The other week I sat down with a book in my hand.  I hadn't done that in a while and the kids got excited and asked me to read it to them.

"To Kill a Mockingbird isn't really a kids' book," I said, but they begged and I figured they'd get bored soon, so I started reading.

They were hooked.  Damon especially.  He started reading it to himself at night, which was great, because then when I'd edit out words while reading to the girls, he'd make comments like, "Mom left out the N-word."

"Whats the N-word?"

"A mean word for a black person."

"Ohhh.  That's why chigger sounds like a swear word to me." (We've all got chigger bites.  They're 10 times worse than mosquito bites.  Don't go outside in Kansas without plenty of DEET, people.)

Every day I hoped I wouldn't get the, "Mom, read us 'How to Kill a Mockingbird,'" request.  But I did.

Finally we got to the chapter where Scout beats up Francis.  "What's a whore-lady?"

"Uh, well, a woman who commits some pretty serious sins."

"Like what?"

"Well, she sells her body for money."

"How could she sell her body for money?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

Fortunately, Uncle Jack and Atticus's conversation about Maycombe's disease bored the girls and I was able to get the girls to give up Mockingbird without too much of a fight.

Tangential: Raise your hand if you think the coming forth of Harper Lee's 'new' book sounds fishy.  I'm excited to read it, but the library wait-list probably stretches into 2025.  I just hope it was really written by Harper Lee and not her editor or somebody else looking for a buck.

Why Sam's Club Is Better than Costco

(This applies to the Overland Park, KS area.)

1. Better hours.  If you get the expensive membership, you should get perks.  Like being able to shop at 8:30 in the morning after you drop kids off at school.

2. Aisles are labelled.

3. Self checkout.

4. You can use your Discover card and rack up cash-back bonus points.

5. Better hours.  Costco wasn't open on the the 4th of July.  I hate it.  It's like they care about their employees more than they care about me.  I might as well be living in Europe.  Call me a selfish, evil capitalist.  I don't care.

6. The milk jugs at Costco are ridiculous.  I should take a picture. 

7. Costco eggs are more ridiculous.  I don't want to pay an exorbitant amount for 24 organic eggs, but I don't need 48 cheap eggs.

Why Costco is better than Sam's Club:

1. It's closer to my house.

2. Their boxes of granola bars don't include the gross, low-fat marshmallow ones no one in my family likes.

Costco better be serious about their "Satisfaction Guaranteed" membership.  I'm going back to Sam's.