New Beginnings

It's that time of year again. That time in Mormondom when all 12-18 year old young women have the annual "New Beginnings" program. We had ours last night, and I must admit, I'm always glad when the big activities are over with. Not that I don't have fun, but I am like the parable of the talents. I have some good ones that relate well to the YW, but I'm lacking a few when it comes to "planning" the activities. I'd much rather just show up and eat the refreshments. Speaking of refreshment, I refreshed myself just this morning with a second dose of the refreshment - delicious coconut cake with fresh coconut shavings. Add to that the missing talents of anything decorative, creative, or remotely feminine, and you have me.

I've been lucky in years past, because I have had extremely capable direction from extremely capable presidents. But now I'm the president. My poor girls. Good thing for amazing counselors and very willing 16-18 year old class members who posses my missing talents. Put us all together, and what do you have? A pretty good program, centered around a very pertinent issue - Virtue.

I don't normally post my political or religious views. When I do, it's on a light note, usually just for humorous effect. I HAVE political views, in case you're wondering. I also have lots of religiosity. It takes up an enormous amount of my time and energy, in fact. It defines who I am, and shapes my very actions (hopefully).

In preparing for the program, I had a lot of time to think about virtue and what it means. In fact, it's been on my mind since last October conference when Sister Dalton, the Young Women General President, gave a talk called, "A Return to Virtue." If I could take every single girl, age 12-18 by the shoulders, and look them in the eye, I would do everything I could to convince them they are loved. They are worth something. By the time our next New Beginnings rolls around, my Sarah will be there. Ohhhh, my acid reflux just flared up.

The attribute of Virtue has been added to our Young Women theme. The definition chosen is “Virtue is a pattern of thought and behavior based on high moral standards. It encompasses chastity and moral purity. The time has come for the young women of the Church to lead the world in a return to virtue. This is the time to be pure and to qualify for the guidance of the Holy Ghost. In the coming year, it is our desire that all young women and their leaders focus on the meaning of virtue, what young women can do to accept and act upon this value, and how this attribute can strengthen young women as they prepare to be worthy to make and keep sacred covenants and receive temple ordinances. "

I like the Lord’s definition of a virtuous woman. I don’t like the world’s definition of a woman. If we choose to listen to what the world expects of us, and what the worlds think we should be, we should only expect disappointment, sadness, and total let-down. The world doesn’t love us. The world didn’t give birth to us and stay up at night when we are sick, the world doesn’t care how we feel. The world hasn’t spent time on its knees praying for us night after night, hoping we will be strong and have the best that life has to offer. Our mother’s do. Our leaders do. The Lord does. They care. So, I like their definition of how a woman should be. I like the Lord’s definition of virtue.

Last Sunday, we had a "fireside." The speaker was a local Church Educational System seminary and institute teacher. He said something that I think will stick with me for forever. He was speaking to the youth, and he said, speaking of their parents, “They love you more than you love them. They try harder than you do. They know more about what you’re going through than you give them credit for.”

Now, about those 3 daughters of mine. I'm thinking of iron bars, and a lock with a timer that doesn't release them till they're about 83.

The Bowels of the Bacuum

Baby got back! I mean, my baby is back! The wee one has been sickish for the past 2 or 3 weeks. It got worse, but then it got better. Yeah! You know when they're sick, and they're not quite themselves. After a week or two of that, you kind of start to take it personally, and it hurts your feelings, and you wonder, "does she like me? She's not smiling at me like she used to. I think she must be mad at me. Did I do something to offend her? Does my breath stink? Is she sick of my whiney voice and toothy grin every time I hover over her crib?" It kind of messes with the old self-esteem. Well, Abby is better, and her personality is back. Whew. Good news - it wasn't me, it was her. Sure, blame the baby. Ok. I will.

This is what happens if you try and take a picture with Kate in the room. She MUST be front and center.

This morning I was, yet again, forced to tinker with the vacuum cleaner. I'm starting to feel a little like Maria or Louis, fixing things in my small-appliance repair shop, right next door to Hooper's store. Only Mr. Hooper is dead, and some guy named Allan runs the store now, who I'm sure is probably gay. And Linda, the deaf lady, moved away. I miss her. And Barkley too.

Anyway, as I was getting ready to disassemble the vacuum, Kate anticipatingly said, "Mom! I'll go get you the scuba driver." I think we need a lesson in basic tools. I think only Jeaque Cousteau uses a scuba driver. I just needed a screw driver. Phillips. Kate's showing signs of the Peton word disease. I must keep an eye on that. (Follow this link too, for more symptoms).

After the vacuum repair (dang vacuum. I think this temporary repair is it's last. I'm anticipating it's death in the near future. R.I.P. Eureka 2002 - 2009), Kate asked if she could play a Disney Princess game on the computer. As I was folding laundry in the other room, something caught my ear. I hear Ariel say, "Do you want to see what's hidden in my enchanted underwater garden? Click here!" Only from the other room, my Freudian ear stopped after the "under" part in "underwater." So, me thought I heard Ariel say something about "enchanted underwear." Yikes for the google searches that will lead people to this post after I just typed "enchanted underwear."
Kate stole the camera. She thinks like MY 6 year old brain did. She, too, thinks it's very humorous to name a bear "Pooh."

And one more thing - I'm starting to wonder if the writers of Mr. Mom were sages. Every day I drop Kate off for afternoon kindergarten, I want to yell at the top of my lungs, "Why are they all honking? Because you're doing it wrong! North to pick up! South to Drop off MORON!!" Hopefully by June the kindee parents will figure out the drop off routine. Until then, I'll just yell to myself.

Kate - front and center again. And, the T.V. speaks volumes about the daddy. If you look closely, it's "The Lord of the Rings" complete with sub-titles.

Making Fun Out of Boredom

I don't deserve to be blogging. We returned from a last-minute weekend drive to Utah at around midnight. The house is obscene. If anyone came over right now, even if it was just the UPS guy, I would be horrified. I SHOULD be horrified, because here I am, blogging, whilst the house is in shambles around me. If only my maids were here today, but they're at school.





So, about that last-second 850 mile each way trip - we made the most out of it. It was one of those Thursday decisions based on the health of a grandparent. Neal's grandma is having a rough go of things and has been in the hospital for a while. We left Friday morning, and returned home late Monday night. That's a lot of driving. Two out of four days in a five passenger car with five people, one of those people being seven months old, and three of the others being adult-sized. It's a good thing we like each other.




In fact, as we were heading out, Neal/Pollyanna pointed out the fact that we were just about to spend four days together as a family. As busy as we've been, it was a welcome relief. So, we made the most of it. Especially on the ride home. Our 6am estimated departure was postponed till 11am due to a feverish/coughing/barfing baby. Lucky for us, Abigail is perfect and she slept almost the entire time home with no vomitous incidents and a subdued fever thanks to the miracle of motrin. She's the best. Still not in top-notch form today though. Another reason for my horrendous house.




So, what do you do when you're stuck in a car for 27 hours total? LOTS!






You can sit in the back seat (a miracle these mother hips performed the feat of squishing between a ginormous car seat and a booster) and explain the nuance and relevance of The Princess Bride to a 6 year old. Kate said, "Oh! THAT'S why you call Dad 'Farmboy.'"



I also spent some time with Abby's car seat. Turns out the car seat I thought was the devil really is pretty spiffy after all. I was just doing it wrong. Remember the show Mr. Mom? "But you're doing it wrong!" I could do a whole post of the modern-day relevance of that show. Although it was made in 1983, it involved Detroit and the Big Three, as well as layoffs and alternative family arrangements. Classic. "21, 22 - whatever it takes."





Car trips to Utah usually involve a new Spongebob DVD. As much as I love watching Spongebob with the girls, it's just as good listening to them explain the scenes. They crack me up. Especially when they do Patrick's voice. Thank you Spongebob.




Boredom makes us result to potty humor to bide the time. Kate asked for some pop-tarts, and I responded, "Pop-farts? You want POP-FARTS?! Sick!" That new word kept us entertained for another 45 miles at least. The term works especially well when substituting for the word "Bonnie" in the tune "Bring Back My Bonnie to Me." Kate sang that jingle for quite some time across the Idaho nothingness. About 180 miles later, the fun was resurrected when an empty pop-tart wrapper dumped crumbs all over the seat. "Kate, there's pop-fart crumbs all over you. Sick!" The Peton family has un-officially re-named pop-tarts for always and forever. Thanks to that weekend trip to Utah.



While in Utah, we were able to squeeze in a few fun events. I am so blessed to still have my Grandparent's Savage in my life. While visiting at their house, my 3 nephews/sons-I-never-had-but-would-take-any-day were entertaining themselves as well as their 2 most adoring fans - Sarah and Kate. I could hear them in the basement getting a little wild. So, I went to check in on them. I was told to make sure they weren't playing in the wheelchair. I went downstairs and behold, they were playing with the wheel-chair. As well as the bed-side toilet. Who could resist? I certainly couldn't, and took a turn or two myself in the wheelchair. Bryant impressed me with his ability to hold a full-on wheelie. Impressed. I've always been a sucker for wheelchairs. I have many a fond memory of taking wild rides through the K-Mart in the 'cart-shopper.' It was back in the old days before electric carts. It was a good old fashioned wheelchair with a basket attached. I also have a sweet memory of playing in a wheelchair at the Bountiful Temple after my little sister's wedding. Keep in mind, I was an adult. A married, 6 month pregnant adult. Playing in a wheelchair in the double-doors of the Lord's house.






Speaking of the Lord's House, while in Utah we took the opportunity to attend the Draper Utah Temple open-house. It was incredible. Before Mormon Temples are dedicated and set-apart, they're open to the public for tours. Highly recommended for your enjoyment. What a moment to be sitting in a Sealing Room where families are united for time and eternity, flanked by your husband and kiddos, with one on the lap. Pinch me now. Nothing says "Happy Valentine's Day" quite like that.

As we were entering so called Sealing Room, Kate was walking very reverently with her arms folded. The usher said, "English speaking come this way please." We obliged, and Kate whipped her head up at me and said, with a worried rush, "We don't speak english!" Stifled giggles. "Yes, Kate, we DO speak english." to which Kate replied, "Oh yeah. I got confused. I thought english was like 'ha la mala konkie jala.' That's spanish." Yes, that's spanish, I guess.

AND, the icing on the cake was after the tour, when you go to a church for light refreshments and an opportunity to ask questions to missionaries. What fun is that, you might say? Well, our next-door neighbors have a daughter serving a mission in the Salt Lake City South Mission, and we got to see her and hand-deliver a valentine package from her family. Oh what fun! We have a special affinity in the Peton family for certain sister missionaries who accept calls to the Utah Salt Lake City South Mission. You see, back in 1989, two "hot sister missionaries" (Neal's words, not mine) knocked on Neal's door. What 15 year old new-kid-on-the-block wouldn't let two 21 year old So-Cal BYU hotties in the door? Good thing he did. That was pretty fun.

So, there you have it. Fun for miles, with lots of smiles.

The Deaf Quilt

Neal is going deaf. I'm not just saying that, it's the real deal. He has tenitis (constant ringing in his ears), and he's getting more "old-manish" as time goes on. I do feel sorry for him. Who wants to be losing their hearing in their 30's? What's he going to be like in his 70's? But, it DOES have some funny moments. Slightly annoying ones too. Like at the movies. "WHAT?" he says every 5 or 6 minutes. Or, he'll come home from work and say, "guess what I thought I heard in a deposition today. . . ." and proceed to tell me something crazy. We also watch all DVD's with the subtitles on. I'm getting used to it, and I think it might help the kids with their reading, so there you go. There's a silver lining in everything.

For example, last Friday, Neal and I were in Portland for a little shin-dig-fund-raiser-awards-night-dinner. As we were sitting quietly at our table, a man was making the rounds, selling $1 raffle tickets to be drawn for a hand stitched quilt. He sold 20 to the man next to us. He turned to Neal and said, "How about you sir. 20 will do ya?" Neal politely nodded and smiled with his "I can't hear a word you're saying, but you seem nice" look on his face. So, the man said, "Great! I'll go get your tickets." As the man walked away, I elbowed Neal and said, "Did you know you just bought $20 worth of raffle tickets?!" To which Neal replied, "Raffle tickets? Who said anything about raffle tickets? I thought he was just saying hi. Oops. I couldn't hear him. Crap." So, the man returned, and out came the grocery money to buy raffle tickets for a quilt. I said to Neal, "well, we'd better win that dang quilt. Because we'll be eating recession potatoes for the rest of the week. We could turn off the furnace to make up the $20 and keep warm under our new quilt." Of course I didn't really mean it and it wasn't true, but I liked the drama and reference to current events.

Well, guess what? We won the raffle. So now we have a nice quilt with a wonderful memory attached to it, along with a meaningful name - The Deaf Quilt.

My mom, who won't admit it, is a sucker for "As Seen on TV" items. She bought my 91 year old grandpa one of those "whisper 2000" things that helps you hear what people are saying. You know the commercial with the guy at the gym walking on the treadmill. He LOOKS like he's just listening to an old Sony Walkman, but really, he's listening to some ladies commenting about how good he looks, and how he must work out. And the mom's that are at the park, and one of them is listening for her kids. You know, making sure they say "no" to the man who asks them if they want some candy. Anyway, hearing aids are super duper spendy. Especially for the kind Neal needs. Maybe he could just get by with one of those tv things. They're only $14.99 plus shipping and handling. AND, they come with a digital recording device. So, in case your hands don't work, along with your ears, and you can't WRITE your grocery list, you could just RECORD your grocery list! Genius. But remember, anyone who just ordered the hearing device is hearing impaired and too cheap for hearing aids. So, imagine them at the store, trying to listen to their list at full-blast, and then they keep needing to rewind it. "What was that again? A loaf a bread, a stick a butta, and a container of milk? Blasted new fan-dangled gadget! And the buttons are too small!"

Poor Neal. But I like our new quilt.

Happy First Day of Training

Day 1 of a 16 week marathon training regimen started today. Note to self - eating a dinner of greasy hashed browns topped with 2 runny fried eggs, a large waffle (hey, it was topped with a banana), and a bag of valentine peanut m&m's doesn't make for a very nice first training run. But it tasted very good and satisfied many cravings. It's all about wages. We get wages for every choice we make. Good or bad.

As I'm sluggishly running on this cold, crisp morning, I found myself wanting upbeat music. This morning was definitely NOT a morning to listen to Conference. As wonderful as it starts my day, I needed some good tunes. Not that the Mo Tab and their famous organ is bad, it's just not "Rocky-esque" enough. Another note to self - I need to find "The Eye of the Tiger" to add to my playlist.

Lucky me and my memory bank. It kept me occupied and motivated enough not to walk. As I listened to my music, I realized that my music taste hasn't changed much since high school. And listening to songs from days gone by, I was able to feast on some sweet memories.

Exhibit A - U2. My favorite. Ever since Rattle and Hum and the gospel version of "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." Just last week as I was taking a sick child to the doctor's office, I lingered in the parking lot so I could finish listening to their newly released song. Sorry Kate, I know we were late for the Dr, but you didn't die now, did you? No. You're good.

Exhibit B - Some good R.E.M. tunes. They reminded me of my old "Automatic For the People" tape. Great songs! Sister Angie, you still owe me a cd replacement of that one. Remember? You let my tape melt on the dash of your 1990 Ford Festiva. I was pretty mad. But you got your just reward. My tape wasn't the only one that melted that day. Your evil NIN tape was a casualty also. Serves you right for spending your filthy lucre for that which is of no worth and cannot satisfy. Never was a fan of that group. Very un-"For the Strength of Youth" like. Ahem, not that any of MY music ever fell out of appropriate parameters.

Exhibit C - Erasure. They have this re-make of a Peter Gabriel song "Solsbury Hill" that's pretty good. Also, a song called "Searching" that's pretty good for running.

Now I just need some Depeche Mode, and Cure. But I'm too lazy to load my phone. It takes me hours every time I do music stuff. I'm a little retarded in that department. But, I AM learning some Windows Movie Maker ropes. It makes youth lessons a little more exciting when they see themselves, mixed with music, slides, church stuff etc. And it also makes me feel a little "Spielberg-esque."

Lest I feel "lazy-esque" I'd best be on with my to-do's for the day. Oh, but first I must comment on the video-game rating system. I'm all for common sense and making my own choices, not letting "the man" make them for me. My Sarah is coming into her own with humor, and she made a great observation over the weekend. She was sitting in the front room surrounded by video games, just laughing. Yes, I let my kids rot their brains with video games. Super Mario Bros. didn't kill me, although I think it killed others. Anyway, she said, "Mom! This is so funny! Look what it says on Disney Princess: Enchanted Journey. It's rated E, but warns of Mild Cartoon Violence. All you do in the game is turn bogs into butterflies. How is that violent? And look at Mario Kart. The warning says, Comic Mischief. That's so funny! And Lego Starwars says Cartoon Violence too! Oh, and Super Smash Bros. Brawl is rated Teen for Cartoon Violence and Crude Humor! That is just so funny!" Yes, it is funny. Although with a name like smash brothers brawl, what should I expect? Maybe I am past-feeling and de-sensitized to my better nature. Maybe I AM one of those parents. Oh well.

Hedgehog Day

Did you know Feb 2nd was Hedgehog day?

Sarah came home from school on Monday. As usual, I asked her what she did at school. As usual, she gave me vague answers that left me wondering, "what to my wondering eyes do they teach you all day?" So, I probed a little further, and told her she had to remain in my hug-lock until she told me something I deemed as acceptable school stuff. Not a fun place to be when I have stinky breath.

Sarah: Oh yeah! Today was hedgehog day.

Mom: What's hedgehog day?

Sarah: You know, it's when this hedgehog named Phil comes out of the ground, and if he sees his shadow, there's 6 more weeks or something like that, of winter. . . I think.

Mom: That sounds an awful lot like groundhog day to me.

Sarah: Oh yeah. . . . Phil's a groundhog. giggle.

Ejookayshun.

I don't care what people say, I'm loving this little thumb-sucker. I think it's the cutest thing.

In true Peton fashion, the newest babe of my womb exceeds 90% of the 6th month old population in things like head size, weight, and height. I'm sure she exceeds in cuteness, smarts and all-around excellence in like a million other things too. She had her 6 month check up a couple of weeks ago. The little tank weighs 18.5 pounds. She's not as big as Sarah was at 6 months. But, she's still kinda big.