This is what Easter Sunday looked like at my house.  Somehow I got the focus wrong and the only shots that turned out were the “goofy” ones!

During our Easter services one of the speakers asked the questions: What does the Atonement mean to me?  I spent the remainder of the day pondering that question.  The simplified answer is- To me, the Atonement means that its ok for me to make mistakes.  I can mess up and pick myself up, dust off my pants and try again- and that God doesn’t love me any less for it.  To me this is HUGE.

I grew up understanding that I could not make mistakes.  Mistakes meant you were weak and weakness was not tolerated.  I don’t think my parents intentionally set out to create these boundaries, but none-the-less they were there and I knew it.  How this played out in my everyday life is a long story for a memoir I may one day write!  Suffice it to say I grew up trying desperately to hide my flaws and my weaknesses, rationalizing them away or denying that they existed. But I knew I wasn’t perfect and the self loathing that came from secretly acknowledging my mistakes did a number on my self esteem.  I began to define myself by all the things I couldn’t do right- never even acknowledging the things I was good at.

I continued on this path until I was in my mid-thirties.  And then I had a moment of clarity and I began to recognize the good in myself.  I suddenly saw myself in a completely different light, as if my strengths were being hit by a giant spotlight.  I slowly realized that I had been choosing to define myself by my faults; which was ridiculous!  I thought about the Atonment and how a loving and benevolent God does not define us by our mistakes, but our successes!  It is through the power and wonder of the Atonement that my mistakes are blotted out from that great record book.

The epiphany continued when I realized what my example may have been teaching my own children.  My heart broke as I recognized certain behaviors in them that I knew stemmed from a fear of making mistakes.  I made a conscious choice that this would STOP with me and that I would NOT pass this on to my kids.

What does this look like in action?  When my daughter comes home and tells me she is stupid because she can’t do math and failed her math test- we talk about how the test went, did she understand the material? Does she recognize what she did wrong and know how to fix it? She then continues to lament (in her dramatic 8year old way) that she is just stupid, stupid at everything.  I begin to ask her more leading questions.  Well, you failed your math test and that is a total bummer, but are you still a good big sister? (yes) Are you still really helpful in class- always helping people in need? (yes) What about art, are you still really good at putting colors together and drawing animals? (yes).  I point out to her that while yes, she failed a test, she is still really amazing at so many other things.  Those other things are the ones that define who she is as a person, not the fact that she flunked today’s math test.

I do NOT want my children defining themselves by their mistakes.  We all make them, but they are not who we are.  I talk openly about the mistakes that I make each day- when I yell, I apologize.  I tell them mommy messed up, but tomorrow is a new day and I will try to do better.  I want them to know that they too can make mistakes- and then pick themselves up, dust off their pants and try again tomorrow.

And that is what the Atonment means to me.

*Last Spring I took a creative writing class, over the next few months I’m going to share some of the autobiographical pieces that I wrote.*

I met Joni in the sixth grade.  I’m not even sure how we met, just that we became friends.  I liked Joni because she wasn’t like all the other girls.  She wasn’t concerned about which tube socks best matched her Units outfit; but we both still tight rolled our jeans.  Her hair was long, thick and wavy.  She didn’t wear big outfit matching bows or side pony tails in an attempt to look cool.  Joni was her own -remarkable confident for sixth grade-self.

She lived in the older (what would now be referred to as urban regentrification) neighborhood.  Her family lived in a great big old Victorian near the community mercantile (the local granola-y grocery store).  It was also a perk that she lived a block away from Phillip, our sixth grade heart throb.  We spent many afternoons accidentally walking by his house.

Joni’s parents were what I would now call crunchy.  I don’t know what her father did for a living, probably worked for the University.  I don’t even know if her mother worked outside the home. It wouldn’t surprise me if she worked for the county extension and both grew and ground her own wheat.  Joni’s family did not own a television.  They would gather in the living room and listen to the radio together.

Despite being an only child Joni’s parents were surprisingly hands off.  When we played at Joni’s house we had the freedom to explore and wander at will.  They were a very different family from the one I grew up in.  My sister and I practically raised ourselves on a steady diet of MTV, Days of Our Lives and taking Happy Meals with us to PG-13 movies.  One New Year’s Eve one year I remember Joni’s father going outside and banging a pot while yelling “Free Nelson Mandela”.  I was too afraid to ask who that was and why he needed freeing.

I remember the first time I was invited to dinner at Joni’s house.  It was early fall and there was a chill in the air.  The leaves of the giant Maples in her neighborhood were starting to turn a beautiful shade of orange.  Her mother had prepared a homemade chili for us.  It was nothing like any chili I had ever had before. I’m sure it tasted good, if your taste buds could still taste anything after the first few bites.  After eating a few polite bites I downed my Kool-Aide and refilled it (a drink that in retrospect seems so out of place at that table).  Joni’s mother had made a warm pan of cornbread, something I normally didn’t like too much.  This time however,  I cut myself a large slice and took a big bite hoping the cornbread would neutralize the burning of my mouth.  Shortly after I took that bite my eyes began to water.  I think I even choked out a few coughs.  I gulped what was left of my Kool Aide while her mother asked if I was alright.  “I’m fine”, I sputtered as giant tears rolled down my cheeks.  I wasn’t fine, I knew it and she knew it.  But, I also knew you never criticize or refuse to eat what someone has prepared for you.  I was going to be polite if it killed me (which I started to wonder if it would!)  Her mother told me the cornbread was made with jalapeno’s and it might be hot for me if I wasn’t used to it.  I smiled through my tears and short breath and said, “It’s good, I just wasn’t expecting it”.

I don’t remember how or if I finished that meal, but I do know I never ate at Joni’s house again.

**Don’t Forget You Can Still Enter The Note Card Giveaway- HERE**

Thursday night my husband came home from work to find me cradling our three-year old while she sat on a plastic Elmo toilet seat, coaxing her with all of the resources my four year college degree equipped me with to please poop!  Not only was I huddled in the bathroom chanting, “poop poop, you can do it!”, but the bed hadn’t been made, the remains of breakfast were still on the table and I had called him requesting he bring home some dinner!  He comes home every night to some amalgamation of this scenario, good man that he is.  As I pondered on that I realized, he comes home every night.  This is not something I take lightly, I feel extremely grateful for this kind of partnership.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom (with the three year old who did NOT release her bowels) I found my husband in the kitchen getting dinner ready.  He stopped to present me with a bouquet of lilies he brought home.  I just about melted.  I just marveled at this man who can come home to this crazy thing we call “family” every night.  It humbles me to know he can look past the crazy to see the beauty in me, and the children.

I was raised with some “interesting notions” about men and family life, despite my own reeducation as an adult I still marvel every single time I see a man do or say something that shows how devoted he is to his family.  Every.single.time. Whether it is my own husband, or fathers I see at the park it just moves me to see that men too find joy and happiness with their families.

To my husband- thank you for the best fifteen years of my life, I can’t wait for more!

After a warm breakfast of homemade cinnamon rolls with scrambled eggs I sent these two monsters off to school today.

I can’t believe I sent my son to fifth grade…I remember when I was in fifth grade, which means I cannot have a child old enough to be a 5th grader!  Fifth grade was a really rough year for me, we had just moved to Kansas and my west coast clothes were not a match for mid-west styles.  In my adult perspective I can describe it as going to school with the daughters of DAR members and Sorority Sisters, while I was more of a daughter of a “free-love” kind of life.  Suffice it to say, it was awkward.

I had to shop online this year for clothes since we were gone so much this summer.  It seems all the clothing companies are advertising slip-on boat shoes for boys, so in an attempt to keep my boy stylish I bought him a pair.  When they arrived he baulked and told me only girls where those kinds of shoes!  Sigh.  Thanks to a tip on instagram we found a local Nike outlet and I got them each a new pair of athletic shoes which they love.

This little second grader was all nerves today.  She barely ate any breakfast and complained of all sorts of aches and pains on the ride to school.  She told me that 7 hours was just too long to be away from me (ahhh!).  I told her it was perfectly normal to feel nervous about school and that everyone feels that way (even her brother who says everything is fine and just acts out his nervousness!).  We missed meet-the-teacher-night since we were still in WY, but I’ve heard that her teacher is just a dream, so I think she’ll do great this year!

I have to admit I was excited to drop them off and head to the grocery store (after brunch with friends) with just one child.  I miss my kids (sometimes) while they are at school, but I sure do enjoy the quiet that exists at home with just my little one.

I’m typing this post (at .65cents a min) aboard Rhopsody of the Sea, leaving Juneau, Alaska on our way to Skagway…

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Well, I was going to post some pics for you, but there are some features that have been diabled on this computer (and I’m having to use IE- blah).  So, if you want to see some pics from our trip just click over to my instagram feed (see link in right sidebar).

This cruise is also a family reunion and I have really enjoyed being with all my family.  I had a bout of seasickness yesterday since we spent the whole day out in open water.  Thankfully the next few days will be spent in inlets…cross your fingers that the sea patch will hold me over on the way home in open water.

Will share more when I get home…when inernet is not costing me .65 a min!!

xo

I was cleaning off the camera memory cards and I came across these little gems that the kids took.  They are always grabbing the point and shoot to document everything from their little sisters teeth to their toe nails, and everything in between!

It took me a minute to see it but my son used dominoes to spell out our last name

My daughter wearing my boots and her father’s sunglasses.

On a side note, if you are looking for a fun movie to see this weekend I recommend Moonrise Kingdom.  I saw it last weekend and so enjoyed it!  I love the campy (no pun intended) feel, the deadpan acting, and Bill Murray…what a hoot!

My Dad is a Bow-Tie wearing Dad, so when I saw this on pinterest I thought of him!

Such clever packaging and branding, no?!  I knew I would be buying my Dad a Bow-Tie for Father’s Day this year and this packaging would not leave my mind.  I decided to use the concept to create a unique card for my Dad.

I wrote my message to Dad on the back and dropped it off at the post office.  Hope it makes him smile and that I picked out a Bow Tie he’ll like (he’s a bit picky you know).

Happy Father’s Day to all the awesome Dad’s (and Uncles) out there!

I’ve seen your living room, yours too, plastered all over pinterest.  You know how to decorate, things match!  Your home with some fresh flowers could be featured in a magazine (oh yes it could!), all modesty aside you know I am right.

For the record, I am NOT a home decorator person. I come from a line of “you-like-it-you-buy-it” and “bohemian-eclectic”.  I married into a family who knows what it really means to “make a home”.  If my mother-in-law let more people into her home I have no doubt all the ladies would be begging her for a photo shoot for some local WY home dec magazine.  Country Living should be knocking on her door!

Anyway, I pretend that I know what I am doing when I “decorate” my home.  I know what I like I just sometimes have a hard time translating that into reality and convincing my husband to go along with me.  Years ago I painted my kitchen yellow (so novel, eh?) I still love the soft yellow but I decided it just is not conducive to the feel I want my home to have.  And, it gets a lot of sunlight, which translates into the room feeling warm…which I get enough of here thank you very much.  I want my rooms to feel cool.

We painted the living room a lovely shade of aqua-y blue in December and I love it, just love it.

It is Blue Whisper by Valspar mixed in Olympic.  I love it so much i decided I want to do the kitchen/dining room in the same color.  I had my husband on my side, I have a gallon of paint and then I chickened out.

You see, my kitchen has ugly yellow/brown 80′s tile.  When we redid the counters we chose a yellow/creamy marble so that it didn’t clash with the floors.  I am now panicking that yellow and blue will not a happy kitchen make.

This shot helps you to see what the counters and floors look like.  The counters are more neutral than the floor.  The cupboards are all a marshmallow-y white, which I love (and loathe to clean).

I want very much to paint the walls blue, but I need you to tell me that it will NOT look horrible with the floors/counters.  Am I deluding myself here?  What do you think.  You can go here to see what the Valspar color really looks like, just search for number 5005-9A.

Feeling tired and grouchy today….

Saturday our power went out (and thankfully came back on not too much later)

Sunday morning my dishwasher broke.

Monday night my husband tried to install a new dishwasher. Long story short, I am temporarily without hot water in my kitchen.  Which means I have to boil hot water on the stove to wash my dishes BY HAND! (biggest whiner award goes to me)

I’m taking the kids to the park while the husband comes home early to install a new water line and then try again to install the new dishwasher.  Cross your fingers that he can do it….cause washing dishes by hand with water you boiled on the stove totally bites.  I’d rather be using my hands to make more of these

I have a cat one that is nearly done; expect them to be in the shop next week.

p.s. are you on instagram? i’d love to follow you…leave me a comment and let me know what your username is!

p.p.s. have you heard of instagrid?  you can sign up and link to your instagram feed and they automatically post your photos/feed online for people who don’t have instagram (like my iphone using mother).

Lately I have had a lot of side work, which is always nice.  But, it has meant the need to seriously structure my time.  Today while showering the thought occurred to me that I have been running faster than was good for me.  I thought of a few ways to slow down, giving myself permission to drop one project off my list for today.  I later mentioned to my husband how I’ve been so good about sticking to my schedules, but that I was starting to feel like I needed to slow down.  I’ve been nursing a cold for a few days now too, which didn’t help matters.

Well, as the day progressed I found myself stranded at a friends house with a van that wouldn’t start!  After a jump didn’t work, I had to call a tow truck (i love my insurance company!).  Another girl friend took my two-year old and me home.  I had to laugh at all of it…The universe conspired to make sure I slowed down and took a day off!

When the universe hands you a “mental health day”, you take it!   I threw the doors wide and let the cool wet breeze fill my home!  I had the husband bring home dinner and I had a nice evening of not doing anything that was on my list.  Hoping to get the van back tomorrow and will try to start running a little slower.