One Last Good-bye

I got this puzzle for Christmas:

 

If I knew how to do that magic with pictures where you circle something important and draw an arrow to it, I would circle the place in the right hand corner that says 1000 Pieces. 1000 is a lot when it comes to puzzle pieces. Especially if you don't like puzzles.

 

But if someone you love has cancer and she gives you a puzzle, you do that puzzle. Because there's nothing else you can do. (In case you haven't heard, there's still no cure for cancer). And I figured if my aunt could survive a surgery wherein most of her insides were removed and then chemo on top of that, I could probably do a 1000 piece puzzle.

 

So I spent a few weeks (we'll call them January) sitting at my dining room table trying piece after piece until I fit two, then three, then four and the image of Christ came together. I thought a lot about Him as I built that puzzle, knowing He answers prayers, hoping He'd answer yes to mine, fearing He couldn't.

 

I got about 900 pieces in when my cousin's kids came over and this happened:

 

See those pieces on the outside? Those are the pieces I had left. See that pile in the middle? Those were all put together. See that half-finished border? That's what remained in tact when the three year old decided to play "waterfall." Can you believe I still love that kid? You would if you knew him.

 

I looked at that pile of pieces for a few days, not ready to put them back in the box, but also certain I couldn't start over.

 

It was about that time my aunt got the news her cancer was back. Not that it had ever really gone away, but we'd been fooled for a few weeks into thinking it had. I was with her that day. We hugged and we cried and then, we planned. "Let's make photo books for your grandbabies," I said. "It will give you something to do." Something to leave behind was left unsaid, but understood. 

 

Then I went home and started sorting those pieces, ready to start over.

 

I finished the puzzle in February, working overtime to get it done before the cousins came over--just in case the little one wanted to play waterfall again.

 

If I could do that magic circle thing I'd point out the two empty spots. The two missing pieces never found. I suppose there's an analogy there--something about Christ being able to fill our missing pieces. I don't know. I do know you can't ever really finish a puzzle without all the pieces.

 

That didn't keep me from leaving it on my dining room table for months. Every time we had company my husband would ask if we could put it away, but I'd say no and so we fed our guests around it. I kept hoping to find the last two pieces, just like I kept hoping for a miracle, even though I could see the cancer winning.

 

I took the puzzle apart and put it back in its box two weeks ago after my aunt hugged me goodbye. The pieces weren't found and I didn't get the miracle I wanted.

 

But I'm grateful for all the unexpected blessings along the way.

 

In the end, the missing pieces weren't important. I could still see who's in the picture.

 



 







Careful What You Wish For...

Dear Me and Every Teacher Who Ever Said, "Put the Book Down, Girl 1,"

We did it! Hooray for us! My voracious reader has informed me that reading is boring, there's nothing to read anyway, and she doesn't want to do it anymore.

Hallelujah, right? It's not like reading could help her get into college or get a good job or expand her world view or anything. Glad we broke that terrible habit.

Know what she does want to do?

Sit in front of the computer googling and emailing. Her "grab and go" skills have also greatly improved when it comes to taking advantage of my unattended phone to text her friends or play Fruit Ninja.

That's when she's not begging me for her own phone and listing the endless reasons why I am the worst mother in the world for not letting her have one whilst reminding me that she is, literally, the only girl on the planet without some kind of device that starts with i.

So, you know, well done us...

With Sighs of Exasperation,

Me

Remember Me?

Dear Blog,

Remember how I used to write you? I'd sit down and tap, tap, tappity-tap away at least once a week and produce something for the masses (all 100 of them) to read. Most of my posts were okay, some were really good, and one or two were pretty awesome. Collectively they all gave me a sense of being connected to a worldwide community and they made me a better writer.

That was before Home School. Before my aunt's cancer. Before the call to be Young Women's President*.

That was back in the heady days of triathlons and novel writing, Tuesday breakfasts and people watching for blog material.

Back in the days before people got tired of writing more than 140 words at a time and having to wait  hours--or even days--for comments. The Pretwitteristic Age.

I miss those days.

I think we should make an effort to get together more often.

Love,

Brittany

* Young Women's President, for those uninitiated in the ways of Mormon lay clergy, means that I was asked by my bishop (pastor) to be the president of our ward's (aka: congregation) organization for girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen. For me, this means planning weekly activities and Sunday lessons for roughly thirty girls and lots of other time consuming things that I don't get paid for. It is also the best church job ever, despite the fact I can't curse in this blog anymore because, you know, I'm an example now.

Top Ten Worst Christmas Songs Ever

I know. It's been a while. But I'm back with the definitive answer to the question that has been plaguing both of us since the day after Thanksgiving (perhaps longer for those of you who don't live with people who have very strict rules about when the playing of Christmas music can officially begin)...

What is the worst Christmas song ever?

Well, we'll get to number one, but first let's start with the nine preceding it in order of least worst to so terrifyingly bad plugging my ears with rusty nails would be less painful worst.

 

10. Christmastime in Hollis Queens.  Sadly this song would have made the Best Of list until it was used to sell mini-vans to moms. I've only seen the Honda commercial once and I can't find it anywhere on the internets, but what's done is done. The image of moms who look like me rapping this song inside an Odyssey is burned in my brain. It's lost all of its cool cache. I do,however, have a hankering for a new Odyssey.

9. We Need a Little Christmas. I feel like I should like this song, but it's so pushy. There's so much pressure to get Christmas done IMMEDIATELY!  I can't take a month or more to put the decorations up and get my shopping done because this guy's going to do something drastic if he doesn't get his Christmas fix NOW!

8. Little Drummer Boy  by Bob Seger. It's Bob  Seger singing. Enough said. Anything sung by Bob Seger could make a Worst Of list.

7. Do They Know It's Christmas by Band Aid. Anyone who knows my feelings about Band-aids should not question the position of this song on this list. You should only question why it's only at number seven and not closer to number one.

6. Jingle Bells by Barbara Streisand. The moment Babs sings "and then we got upsot. Upsot??" this version of Jingle Bells officially becomes a Hanukkah carol and no longer qualifies as a Christmas song.

5. Christmas Through Your Eyes by Gloria Estefan. I find Gloria Estefan one of the most annoying people in the entire world. I don't know why. She just is. And she should leave Christmas and its songs alone. Step away from the microphone, Gloria. Step. Away.

4 & 3. O Holy Night by Mariah Carey. Mariah Carey takes one of the most beautiful hymns EVER and adds synthesizers--synthesizers for Gosh sakes!--and then she does another version and adds Michel Bolton. For this reason she gets two spots. You will not be forgiven for your crimes against this song, Mariah.

2. What if Jesus Comes Back Like That by Colin Raye. Colin Raye should be punched in the face for ruining Christmas every time I hear this song.

And, finally, the very worst in what Christmas music has to offer. So bad I want to make myself barf every time I hear it just to get the treacle taste out of my mouth. You already know what it is, right? How could it be anything besides...

1. Christmas Shoes by Newsong. And Rob Lowe, how can you be so good in Parks & Rec and then be in this video? You disappoint me, sir.

I can't in good conscience share only terrible Christmas music with you, so I'll leave you with the best Christmas song ever. It was going to be Happy Christmas (I can't do Xmas, even though I think officially that's what it is) by John Lennon, but I'm feeling very grateful that I get to spend Christmas with my children and my heart aches for those who don't. So here it is, my favorite Christmas hymn and a truly beautiful version of it...

 

Merry Christmas!

 

An Impassioned Plea of "Can't We All Just Get Along?"

A few days ago I posted this article, Ending the Uncivil War, from BYU Magazine on my Facebook page that I begged my friends to read. Judging by all the apocalyptic posts using words like "stupid" "idiot" and "Hell" that have been filling up my feed, I'm guessing not very many people did. So let me do a little paraphrasing if you will. The words of the three authors who wrote the article; an Evangelical, the vice chair of the Utah Democratic Party, and a Democratic Senator,* can be summed up with a quote from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf from last conference:

 

When our hearts are filled with the love of God, we become “kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving [each other], even as God for Christ’s sake [forgave us].”¹¹

The pure love of Christ can remove the scales of resentment and wrath from our eyes, allowing us to see others the way our Heavenly Father sees us: as flawed and imperfect mortals who have potential and worth far beyond our capacity to imagine. Because God loves us so much, we too must love and forgive each other.

 

I know people feel passionately about politics; I get it. I understand being frustrated that things aren't going the way they'd like them to.

 

What I can't fathom is why people take one man who gives to charity, prays daily, attends church, and calls himself a Christian, put all of their faith in him to save America and keep the apocalypse at bay; then take another man who does the same things and make him the personification of evil.

 

You may not like Obama's vision for America and you may be right that the cost is too high, but I don't see how wanting people to have equal access to health care, education, and the American Dream is evil. You have every right not to like his ideas and methods, but let's be careful how we throw around a word like "evil," okay? 

 

Hitler; evil. Bin Laden; evil. Dictators who execute whole swaths of people who disagree with them; evil.

 

Obama?

 

Well, he's our president, whether we like it or not. So how about we start showing him the respect he deserves--even if we don't agree with him--and usher in a return to civility? One man can't destroy our country just like one man can't save it. It will take all of us to do one or the other. My preference would be for saving.

 

To that end, I'm taking the pledge that Mark Demoss, the Evangelical author of this article, asked members of Congress and people everywhere to take as part of his civility project:

 

1. I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior

2. I will be respectful of others, whether or not I agree with them.

3. I will stand against incivility where and when I see it. 

 

I haven't always been respectful of every president (sorry #43), but I'm going to do better now. Not just with presidents, but with people in general. I'm even going to try really hard not to yell at people when I drive. I may have to stop driving for a while. I'll do it though, if that's what it takes to make my corner of the world a little bit nicer (no cracks about my driving ability please).

 

I know there are many people out there who believe God is affiliated with one political party, but no matter how many scriptures are quoted (or more often paraphrased), I haven't heard any compelling evidence that God cares more about political parties than people. So can I ask that we stop accusing Obama of ushering in the end times? Faith and fear can not reside in the same place, so how about we let go of the fear.

 

Maybe this quote from another apostle at another of our general conferences will help:

 

There are some who feel that venting their personal anger or deeply held opinions is more important than conducting themselves as Jesus Christ lived and taught. I invite each one of us individually to recognize that how we disagree is a real measure of who we are and whether we truly follow the Savior. It is appropriate to disagree, but it is not appropriate to be disagreeable...If we show love and respect even in adverse circumstances, we become more like Christ (Quentin L. Cook, "We Follow Jesus Christ," Ensign, May 2010),

 

Oh, and by the way, I voted for the guy who lost too.

 

* That's right, the university that doesn't allow men to have hair below their collars, women to wear bikinis, or anyone to wear shorts above their knees--but does encourage people to report others' infractions--invited not one, but two Democrats to speak to its students. Their Conservative merit badge just may be revoked.

 

Heroic Deeds Performed by Me and Other Exciting Things...

Heroic Act #1

Last night I went to Target--again (third time this week and it was only Tuesday for crying out loud). I was in a hurry (because when am I not?) and some kind of population explosion had gone off and people were everywhere. I parked in Egypt, loaded up on provisions, and began my journey to the entrance.

By the time I reached the vast desert of the handicapped parking zone I had barely fifteen minutes to get all the things I'd forgotten on my two previous trips, before I had to retrieve Girl 2 early from gymnastics so she could spend the rest of the night doing a project she should have started four weeks ago.

It was then I saw a boy trying to pick up a flailing one year old off the street. Their mother was a few feet ahead, pushing a cart with another little boy in it who was trying his darnedest to escape while she made her way around an idling SUV/monster truck blocking her car. "Just pick him up," she said, obviously in a hurry and trying to keep her frustration at bay. I got it. It was dinnertime and she was at Target with a kajillion kids (though, in retrospect, I only counted three).

Something told me to go pick that baby up. So I did, ignoring my fear that I might be mistaken for one of those crazy, childless, baby-kidnapping ladies. Harried mom left her cart and rushed back to me.

"I'll help you to your car." I assured her. She still looked worried, but went back to her cart to wrangle her other potential escapee.The baby cried for his mom, but quit his flailing as I followed her the short distance to her car. She said thanks as I passed him off to her.

"No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring pat on the back. "It's so stressful taking kids shopping!"

Then I hurried on my way back around the still idling SUV ready to speed shop. Except when I came around the SUV a Mustang turned in front of it, the driver going fast enough as it passed little ol' me and the SUV that I had to jump out of the way to avoid being run over. He sped past me. right over the spot where thirty seconds before a little boy had been wrestling his baby brother. And I knew if  I hadn't picked that baby up, those boys would have been hit. That speeding Mustang driver couldn't have seen them on the other side of that jacked up truck before he decided to turn and speed down that parking lot lane.

So I kind of saved three lives last night: those boys and that I-think-I'm-pretty-cool driver. Because imagine being that guy who was dumb enough to think speeding through a busy parking lot at dusk was a good idea.

Heroic Act #2

Remember Homeschooling Girl? Well, the other day I had to teach her how to solve this problem:
x + 2 = - 4.

And maybe you don't think that's such an act of heroism. But if a hero is defined as someone who shows courage in the face of adversity, then folks, I am a hero. Er, heroine.

 Because if you could have seen me my senior year of college when I looked at my graduation requirements and read the part that said if I had scored below a certain number on the Math portion of the ACT then I would have to take, not only College Algebra, but also the no credit prerequisite Pre-Algebra for Math Dummies class--whether or not I had taken two years of Italian in order to avoid ever taking a math class again--and seen newlywed me, who now had to pay her own college tuition and therefore needed to graduate--and soon-- think back to that fateful ACT and remember how I had totally rocked the English and Science portion of it but the Math portion had significantly lowered my overall score, and then seen me cry. Every day. For the entire summer semester I took College Algebra, bravely/stupidly skipping Math for Dummies in order to graduate on time...you wouldn't argue whether or not I am a superheroine for solving a simple algebraic equation. I am.

I passed that class with flying colors. (If, you know, a C+ counts as flying and not just sputtering). Not only that, but my semester of Algebra has turned out to be far more useful than my four semesters of Italian. Though the Italian will come in handy as I prepare a nice marinara to eat with the words, "why do I need to know Algebra? I will never use it again after this semester."

Exciting Thing #1

Remember my book that got rejected for marketing reasons? My very good friend, writing partner, and talented author, Melanie Jacobson self-published my very own copy for me. Here's a picture:

cute, huh...







Then she told me to order more copies and come do a book signing with her (Smart Move give away soon, until then order here) and our other critique partner, Kristy Tate (Stealing Mercy free on Kindle here). So I did and it was fun. But I didn't order enough books because people keep asking me for one and I'm out. I'm going to order more, so if you want one let me know and if you don't, that's okay, I still like you. But please don't let me know if you don't want one.

It is $10 plus s&h and I'm only doing a small order. No Amazon or Kindle release. Also, it went through one really great, really fast, edit. That was not enough. You will find mistakes.

Exciting Thing #2

For the first time I am doing NaNoWriMo. It starts tomorrow and I am very excited. I am also doing Book Fair, Room Mom stuff, Regular Mom stuff, Home School Mom stuff, Thanksgiving, and lots of other stuff, so wish me luck. (I've already informed hubby I won't be doing cleaning stuff. Cleaned the bathrooms yesterday in preparation for NoCleanSoICanWriMo).

The best part though, is that Home School Girl is doing it with me because I found a whole middle school NaNoWriMo packet she can do. I did not, however, order it in time to start tomorrow. Which means I have to skim through over a hundred pages of said packet and decide how many of those pages I want to print out for her. That is not the best part.

Still... things are good.

Busy, but good.

Things I Miss For My Children...

1. Waking up to this...

my parents sent me this picture of their backyard on Tuesday

Even when it happens in October, the first snow is magical. To wake up to the first snow of the season is to wake up to the wonder of Mother Nature and her ever changing moods. It's a reminder that nothing stays the same. It's a day filled with the possibility of future "snow days."

 

2. Snow days. Few things are more exciting than an early morning call saying school has been cancelled. It's even better when Mother Nature thwarts the grown-ups and lets the sun shine. It's like a surprise Christmas.

 

3. Saturday morning cartoons. When the world isn't centered around you, anything that caters to your wants becomes special, no matter how crappy it is.

 

4. Opening the cover to a textbook on the first day of class to see who had it before you... and knowing that person.

 

5. Grandparents who live next door.

 

6.  Long recesses and homework free week nights.

 

7. Being able to bike to the store to buyAtomic Fireballs and candy cigarettes. Okay, maybe not the candy cigarette part.