Conversations with Smiths- Part 21

I have a difficult time paying attention in church. Okay, I have a difficult time paying attention anywhere. Benjamin and I sitting next to one another is a particularly bad combination. Sometimes Todd separates the two of us if a speaker is particularly challenging to listen to.

It's a problem.

Adding to the problem is that our current congregation has a tradition of being pretty lousy at special programming for major holidays. Perhaps it feels worse for Todd and me because we grew up in churches with fabulous holiday programming. We've been here eleven years, you'd think we'd stop getting our hopes up by now. But, no.

This past Sunday was particularly painful because one of the few Christmas carols we were going to sing as a congregation was skipped when the undoubtedly nervous speaker rushed to the podium and began speaking before the organist made it to the organ. So the Bishopric let her talk and decided to skip the hymn altogether.

I was not pleased. And then the speaker as she told a scripture story described some of the people as "not righteous and wicked".

And Benjamin and I went into "we have the attention span of gnats and are obnoxious to boot" mode and this happened.


Benjamin: #NotRighteous #Wicked 

Me: #SameThing #Redundant

Benjamin: #SacramentMeetingTalk

Me: #NotReallyPayingAttention #ShouldBeSingingTheFirstNoel #Bitter

Todd [leaning over in between Benjamin and me]: #SHHHH!

Benjamin: #Roasted #DadBurn

Seven Things Sunday

1. This week Caleb received his Arrow of Light award from Cub Scouts. His birthday isn't for several more weeks, so he technically has a little time left in Cub Scouts, but we're nearly to the end of our time in Cubs with our own kids. Check out his uniform. As only Caleb can wear it, a shirt from an old pack (so with the wrong numbers on it), shirt untucked, no shirt, kerchief, belt, or even shoes. It reminded me of many moons ago when I went to pick up popcorn from the then Pack Leader. She saw 3 year old Caleb in the van and said, "Oh! I don't think I've ever seen him with clothes on. He's usually just in a diaper." She wasn't exaggerating.

 2. My kids are goofy. This isn't exactly news, but I have photographic evidence of it tonight. Yes, that's Benjamin underneath everyone.

3. Our middle school did a fundraiser at Chipotle this week. It worked out best for me to phone in an order and have Todd pick it up on his way home from work, but when I called they were so swamped, they asked me to do the order online. This I then did. Unfortunately when Todd picked up the food, he was told that because I'd paid online they couldn't credit the fundraiser. I was irked since, we don't eat out hardly ever as a family and certainly wouldn't have that night except for the fundraiser. I sent an email to the corporate offices that night, and by the next morning had both and email and a personal phone call apologizing, and letting me know that they'd credited our school with our bill as well and telling me how much our school had raised. I once heard someone say that you can tell how good a company is by how easy it is to contact them. I'm not sure that's the best measure, but in this case it made me love Chipotle even more than I already did.

4. I cleaned my closet yesterday. I have no before and after pictures, but trust me when I tell you that it was terrifying and now it is not. Now to tackle my nightstand!

5. I've mentioned before that our family quotes Mr. and Mrs, Bunny Extraordinaire. A LOT. After another particularly gut busting evening of laughter of quoting (while reading scriptures, no less. We're bad.), I decided to email the author. I was still high from Chipotle responding to me. Anyway, this was the email I sent:

"Ms. Horvath,

Each year our family sets off across the USA on long road trips. One of our favorite things to do is listen to recorded books. Your books have proved to be some of our favorite. Everyone from the 5 year old to the adults love them. But I have to tell you how much my 15 year old son loves to quote the foxes from Mr. and Mrs. Bunny. He's forever interjecting the word, "Hooman!" into sentences, in just such a way that we all dissolve into laughter.  As communication between a 15 year old boy and his family isn't always an easy thing, I just wanted to thank you for your stories and the laughter that we've all shared and continue to share as a family when we think of some of your characters and their lines.

Sincerely,

[etc.]"

I went to bed that night not really expecting to hear back from her, but glad that she'd have a nice email to read. I mean I assume that authors like to know that your family loves their characters. Anyway, I'd told her. We were all excited when the next morning this came through:

Dear Ms Smith
What a great letter to start my day.  Thank you for troubling to write it.  And might I say that your fifteen year old son has remarkably good taste.  I wish you and your family many more happy road trips in the years to come.
Best
Polly Horvath

This week has been a great reminder that there are living, breathing people with feelings behind all the "institutions" we tend to think of as nameless and faceless. It has reminded me that before I go using social media to whine or complain, I should remember to try to just find a way to communicate with whomever I am having an issue. 

6. Speaking of social media, someone posted this on a friend's facebook page the other day and it was a balm to my weary soul. I have sung this one several times, but not for many years. I've listened to it several times just today and each time have been grateful for such simple, yet profound lyrics.  I'm so grateful for all those involved in music who share their many talents that we can all feel within us.

7. We had more snow last night into much of today. I was exceedingly grouchy that we still had church this morning. I really want a snow day. One honest to goodness, don't even think about going anywhere snow day.  We've had lots of snow, and lots of cold, but nothing that anyone else seemed to deem worthy of shutting everything down for. Anyway, as I took my little black storm cloud to church with me, I realized that I was probably about to have wonderfully spiritual  church meetings. It seems that when I am grouchiest about being at a church meeting, that is when the spirit is the most present and I therefore have a choice. I need to get over myself and bask in the opportunity to learn and grow, or I can be grouchy and miserable for hours on end. Sunday School today was fantastic. It was the first time in a long time where everything was really clicking. I felt like the entire class was learning and growing together with the help of the Spirit. I suppose in the grand scheme of things that is worth far more than a snow day.

Dancing

I love dancing. Not me personally doing it, but watching others do it. I'm amazed at the grace and control that dancers have over their bodies and how effortless they make it all look.

My four youngest kids all dance, and three of them are good at it. One of them enjoys it, but has to work harder for it than everyone else.

I realized that I needed a dance class. I've taken gazillions of exercise classes over the last 20 years, but not a single dance class. I haven't had to do any choreography for anything in more than a decade, so I was rusty.

Heather the Awesome suggested a year or two ago that we take a belly dancing class that was being offered up at our rec center, and finally last fall everything lined up to make it doable.

It's been a little over a year now that we've been taking the class, and I am SOOOO glad that she suggested it. Our teacher is wonderful! She makes everything seem completely attainable, but is realistic that practice is necessary. And I've had the opportunity to perform with her and my amazing classmates at both a belly dance workshop/retreat and several smaller community gatherings.

I feel like belly dance might be one of the forms of dance that is the most accepting of all body types. I know that seems weird since we all imagine perfectly shaped women in their little bikini tops and toned abs. For the most part it isn't that.  It's normal looking women who have learned how to isolate muscles that I wasn't even aware of having before I started belly dance.  And for some moves, the more belly the better!

I'm not quite ready to bare my belly while dancing, but I'm becoming more accepting of the idea.  Thanks in part to my religious beliefs and standards of modesty and in equal part the tremendous number of scars left by being pregnant with excessively large babies, I'm still a bit hesitant to don a spangly bra and let the rest of my torso hang out.  But I think I'll get there eventually.

Here are a few of my favorite ladies from our very first performance last Spring:

I've been pleased to learn that my body is capable of more than I'd ever believed. I always assumed there were people who could move "like that" and people who simply couldn't.  I placed myself firmly in the latter category.  However, with practice and the right teacher many things can be learned.

"A nest for birds, There ain't no words For the beauty, splendor, the wonder of my HAIR"

I can't stop quoting the musical "Hair" in reference to Caleb. So here is the song that is stuck in my head every time hair is mentioned. This is from the Broadway revival a few years ago. (Amusingly, I just remembered being in NYC at the time. We were celebrating our 10th anniversary and had been to see a different show the night before. The next morning we were standing in line at the TKTS booth trying to decide whether to see another show or go to the Manhattan LDS temple.  There wasn't much available that morning, so in the end our choice was Hair or the temple. I would like to say the answer was obvious, but I did pause for a moment. This is why it's good to marry a better influence. ;) )

I mentioned the other day that Caleb was going to get his hair cut in preparation for Halloween.  Here is the after:

I guess a picture of the before would be nice, too:

But here is my favorite part of this story. Caleb gathered all the hair from his haircut and brought it home in a plastic bag.  After we got home we finished up his school work and then his friends started coming over after school. Each time the doorbell rang, he'd invite his friends back to see his new pet.  He was showing them this:

Yes. That's his hair. Yes. It's in an animal cage.  Most people initially thought it was a guinea pig until Caleb would whip off his hat to reveal his freshly shorn head.  He told this story tonight to his drama teacher and she said to him, "You are what we love best about drama."  True dat.

A Quick Tour of Salt Lake City

This is the fountain on the roof of the conference center, it continues on all the way down the building.  Salt Lake Temple in the background.

Last year, Caleb insisted that he wanted to go on vacation to Salt Lake City.  Todd and I kept saying things like, "Are you sure??"  and "Why?"   We did not ever say, "But, Caleb, there are too many damn Mormons in Utah!"  Because we try to be decent parents.  And besides, Salt Lake isn't so bad. ( Provo is a different story entirely...)

When we were out west visiting family and dropping off kids at various camps at BYU, we took a day to go visit SLC and see some of the sights.

This is also found on the roof of the conference center.  What look like photographs are actually images sand blasted into marble.  It was amazing to see and touch.

Caleb appreciating Temple Square.

I think I take this same picture every time I go to Salt Lake.

Benjamin before he and Todd almost passed out/threw up from heat exhaustion.  We Smiths know how to have a GOOD TIME!

Blinded by the Light!

We live in central Ohio.  Central Ohio is not known for it's sunshine.  NJ isn't known for it's sunshine, either, but Columbus has more in common with Seattle as far as sunshine is concerned.  After a year of living here, I noticed I needed sunglasses for even the dingiest of sunny days.  I'm turning in to one of those blind cave fish.  Apparently, so is the rest of my family, because we could not handle the bright, blinding, Utah sunshine.  See for yourself:

These were all taken outside the Mt. Timpanogoes Temple following Warren getting sealed to our family.  Both Todd and I had been able to go through the sealing ceremony with our adopted siblings when we were children, so it was nice to be able to share that with our children as well.

 It was so great to see so many family members and friends come to this momentous event for our family.  Todd's Grandpa was our sealer, also!

 My Aunt and Uncle even hosted a soiree at there house immediately following.  Did I mention that they had been up THE ENTIRE NIGHT BEFORE dealing with their brand new finished basement getting completely flooded thanks to a broken city pipe???   They are amazing and generous people.

We really wanted to get a cake that said, "Haha!  Now you're stuck with us forever!" But Todd's parents did the food shopping, so we didn't want to complicate it for them.  

Ahoy!  That's better!

And.....we're all done here!  Poor Caleb.

Happy Day

Two down. Two to go!

Oi.

I would like to let you know that for a WASP*, I make a darn good matzo ball soup. (That's not a picture of mine, though. I was too busy eating mine to take pictures.)

A month after we moved to the midwest I went to the store one night because I was having a yen for rugelach. The local grocery store didn't have any. Not only did they not have any, they didn't even know what I was talking about. That's when I realized that not every region of the country had grown up with traditional Jewish comfort food, and unless I wanted to drive really far, I was going to have to learn to make it myself. (Whole Foods which opened a year later has it sometimes, and so does Trader Joe's very occasionally. But still.)

I have five pounds of matzoh in my car as I type this.

Around Passover here, I can usually stock up on lots of the foods of my youth enough to last me for the year. But there's something wonderful about that first fragrant bowl of soup for the year.

A conversation with Nathaniel last night:

N: What's for dinner?
Me: Matzo ball soup and potato pancakes with homemade applesauce
N: Potato what?
Me: Latkes
N: Oh! Latkes! Why didn't you say that in the first place?

I love that even though my kids will be Buckeyes through and through they still understand the traditions of my youth...even if I am a WASP and they're only my traditions by close association.

*White Anglo Saxon Protestant. This isn't strictly accurate since I'm Mormon and we weren't around to protest anything back when that was going on. But close enough.

Merrily We Roll Along

This has been an interesting week.  I have felt extremely unfocused thanks to some big stuff that happened.

Last week our Bishop called me into his office to ask if I would accept the calling of Relief Society President.  (For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, see here.)  For those of you who do know what I mean, you will understand why I immediately burst into tears and cried in his office for about an hour while we talked it over.  I tried explaining to him that I am not even nice, but it didn't seem to change his mind.  So I spent the rest of Sunday close to my tissue box...and a little bit of Monday.  On Tuesday I finally told him yes.

One of my non-LDS friends asked what the heck I was thinking by taking on something so huge.  And while I felt much the same way, I was able to explain that in our church this is what we do.  We accept callings and assignments (after prayer and consideration) that often seem beyond our capabilities.  And then we learn and grow and fall short and slowly get better until we are big enough to fit into them and do them well.   So here's to growing!

Just when I was beginning to wrap my mind around that, we received a call from a case worker letting us know that we would be getting a son for Christmas.  I won't post details about him until he's mine, but he is 16 and delightful.  He is polite and sweet with our little boys and well-mannered and witty with us.  He has a lovely voice and enjoys music, theater, and reading.  I asked his case worker on Friday if I was allowed to be excited yet, because we've been trying to adopt for almost two years and been thwarted at every turn.  But this is all go!  So I have a couple of months to fill out mountains of paper work and get his room ready and think about life with four boys...one of whom is an instant teenager.  (The cleaning thing from last week.  According to the very wise Dee, I am nesting.  And she's totally right.)  

There's a line from "Into the Woods" in which Little Red Riding Hood says she's scared, but then amends it to say, "Well...excited and scared."  And that's how I feel.

I also feel like I haven't really been very present this last week.  As if I'm on the outside watching someone lead me quietly along.  I'm sure one of these days I will snap out of it and freak out, but for now if I appear to be not so lucid, just snap your fingers in my face a few times until I come back.

Thanks for all of you who have put up with my spaciness this week.  I appreciate your friendship, love and support more than I can say.  

Nature or Nurture?

The first weekends of October and April are a general conference for the members of our church. Happily, we can listen to the wonderful talks online. When it was just Todd and I, we would huddle around the computer for the four 2 hour sessions. (I'll do almost anything if it means I get to stay in my pajamas.)

Once our boys were born, we went hi-tech and put the baby monitor to use. So, we have conference streaming on the computer, and then put a baby monitor up to the speakers. The other monitor we take wherever we want to be. Doing dishes, painting outside, in the living room flopped on the couch, etc.

Caleb decided this year that he's going to kick Mack Wilburg out and take over the post as conductor for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Dressed as Batman. And conducting a baby monitor. (It does make me think that wings should be the next new thing for the well dressed choral director.)

Makes us proud. Incidentally, the thing he keeps saying is, "People die here!", a quote I stole from the gorgeous Marc, and apparently have been saying more than I realized.

A couple of items

I love this!! Read it, folks, and pass it on. http://thegabblog.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-for-record.html

And for today's poem (which is kind of tomorrow's poem since it's after midnight) wander on over to friend Linnea's blog for some fun poetry and then post some of your own inbox poetry. Good times.