Clueless

Yesterday morning Slice and I walked into church just after 9:30, a bit late and (as always) a bit frazzled.  (Also hungry.)  My Primary lesson was prepared and waiting in the church bag; Liam's snacks and toys were in the diaper bag.   We missed our ward the Sunday before General Conference due to some musical numbers I participated in.

Surprise!

Stake Conference!

We were early!

And we thought it was Fast Sunday.  Fortunately, Liam had taken a morning nap and was relatively well-rested.  He lasted most of the meeting.  (Unlike Slice, who fell asleep the moment I walked out with the baby.)

Unfortunately, we missed the other sessions of Stake Conference, being ignorant of the occasion.
Ah well.

Ward Business*

You probably already know this but in our old ward, the Bishop was -and is- my Dad.
This was great in all kinds of ways: sweet temple recommend interviews, grandchildren making faces from the second row, getting the true stories behind ward gossip, constant access to the church.

Now in our new ward, the Bishop is my old boss.  The guy I used to spend 40 hours a week with.  The guy who sat and watched as I practically ruined his work life.
(You know, by quitting but not quitting and turning the aide position into a part-time one, then leaving him solo for an entire month, then saying I would come back to work in the fall but only working a few weeks before quitting for good....)
Anyway.
This is also great in all kinds of ways.

By our second official Sunday in the ward, I was substituting for the Primary chorister and Slice was teaching Elders Quorum; we juggled the babe between us.  We've been recruited to the ward choir and also given new callings.  I joke with people that it's weird to have a bishop who already knows me so well.  He knows my family and a fair amount of recent history; my opinions on books, current events and trends; my organizational quirks and (many, many!) pet peeves.  The nature of our work brought about a lot of discussion on such things.

My favorite thing, though, is that most people in the new ward don't know that I know the Bishop on a personal level.  They point out his children to me, telling me their names, explaining relationships and things that I am already well-aware of.
And I just smile and nod, thanking them for the valuable information.  These people are so kind.

In other news, the ward we moved into is very different from the one we left.
I know, I know!
The ward we left was (is) exceptional in many ways - literally.  Membership, activity, tithing and growth rates are off the charts, even by Utah standards.  Also, the ward choir is possibly the best in existence.
(Possibly.)
But as much as we loved it, I didn't really feel needed.  Except to keep 100+ Primary kids in check.  Meetings were big and often noisy, even irreverent.

Not so much here!

In any case - it's nice to feel needed every once in a while.


*My apologies in the off-chance that (as a reader of my blog, that is) you don't speak fluent Mormon...

If it gets any better I might just wake up

Saturday I watched the annual General Relief Society Meeting with my Mutti in the comfort of her living room.  I always love this meeting, always leave knowing exactly what I need to do better and feeling so humbled that I have to try.  This year was no exception.

Sunday I was standing in the hall after church, holding Liam and talking to people as they passed by.  I looked down to see a darling girl (7 yrs old?) from the ward watching me, not the baby as I'd thought.  She said "You're beautiful," quiet and earnest-like, then walked away as soon as I thanked her.  And I melted.

Yesterday Slice got a call from a Realtor informing that the seller had accepted our offer - meaning WE ARE GOING TO BE HOMEOWNERS - and so, if all goes well, we will be posting pictures and updates as frequently as possible.  I'm ridiculously happy about the prospects of having so much space to ourselves, not to mention a garage and dishwasher, but when I think about it too much I can't sleep at night.
(Also, it's not a done deal yet, so you never know what could happen.)

But hey .... YAY!

Blessing Day

Slice blessed Liam on Sunday.  It was beautiful.

We missed all of you who couldn't come, but were so grateful for those who did.

You may notice that Liam is in three different outfits.

(NOT my choice!)

Cautionary Tales

There's an article in the June 28 edition of TIME that has been the topic of much discussion between Slice and me, and other members of my family. (Published not long after I read this excellent blog post from an adoptive mother.) The terrible Russian orphan situation has impacted each of us; it is something we live with every single day.

Hint: it's not all the "sunshine and roses" that adoptive families hope for.

Foreign adoption seems to be garnering more media attention these days, thanks to Torry Hansen and the earthquake in Haiti, among other things. Fifteen years ago, most people had never even heard of Reactive Attachment Disorder. I'm hoping that's not the case anymore.

This article was timely for a number of reasons. The more time I spend with my darling Liam, the more it breaks my heart to think that my brothers did not have parents to care for them as babies. They didn't have mothers who rocked them to sleep, who watched and sang to and played with them. How many children spend the first years of their lives stuck in cribs, unable to bond with another human being? I can't even imagine.

I was too young when we got my brothers to understand what they were coming from. But they were old enough to be damaged by it.

The damage is not easily undone, we are continually learning. I have wondered whether families with mixed-race children due to adoption have an easier time coping than those with children who cannot form real relationships. (A moot point, I suppose; neither is "easy" by any stretch of the imagination!) The TIME article mentions that Russia is a major source of foreign adoption because the children are white - but if you can't adopt until the child is over a year old, the most crucial time is up. And you should probably think about future, possibly younger children, if you are thinking of adopting at all.

Choices choices.

Anyway, the whole thing has had me thinking about the story of Lehi and his family from the Book of Mormon. Lehi had two sons who were wicked no matter what they saw, who tried to help them, or how obvious things should have been. Laman and Lemuel would have killed Nephi eventually (and the rest of their family, I assume) had the Lord not warned him and told him to leave.

Nephi forgave his brothers over and over for the terrible things they did to him, but in the end he had to separate himself from them to preserve his own life and those of his family members. He could not make them choose right; they had their agency and it would not be taken from them. But the posterity of Laman and Lemuel were not held to the same accountability as the Nephites, because of the "wicked traditions of their fathers."

So it's possible that my brothers won't be as accountable as I will be. No one knows what they went through in 5+ years, or how it has affected them since. But I do think that, as this article points out, sometimes separation is necessary for the preservation of the whole. Of course different families have different ways of dealing with their issues ... and fortunately the options seem to be multiplying.

But good heavens, if prophets aren't spared the heartache of having wayward children ... maybe no one is.

Your thoughts?

Comments I DID make in church ...

... but probably shouldn't have.
A response to this post by Carina.

• "I hate church. It's the worst three hours of my week."
• "I want to go home and sleep for the next eighteen hours straight."
• "You're sure you don't want to release me?"
  

Not because of anything anyone else said or did (or didn't do!), but because my legs and feet were so swollen they looked like marshmallows, my fingers and wrists ache all day long from pregnancy arthritis, no clothes fit me well, and I cannot sit on a piano bench for two hours straight. Especially not without food and water. Contractions, kicking, dizzy spells, headache.


I guess I've hit that point?


(Really it was just a bad time. My Dr. saw me at the end of church and asked how I was feeling; after my response he asked if I'd like him to write a note to get me out of church. "I do know the bishop pretty well," I said.)

pardon my exuberance

But the Sunday Singing lives on!

IN PARAGUAY!

a tidbit from Matt's weekly email:

Our group has now started something that I wanted to announce to you, especially Mom and Kiana and Rachel. I started a class about three weeks ago on the hymns and singing lessons, but for a big group. Well, to be short, Sunday NIght Singers now exists in Filadelfia, Paraguay! I play the little keyboard while they sing, and they just love it. Yesterday's singing session came after a long weekend where we had a little runin with a drunk and both me and my companion had some little death threat incidents. However, drunks say things that they do not mean. If they ever decided to do anything about it, I would be scared. However, we'll be fine. Anyway, the session was an incredible one. As we sang the last number, I asked them to sing The Spirit of God like a Fire is Burning nice and loud, and the Spirit filled our little circle. It was an enveloping feeling to see these new saints who hardly even know the hymns, be blessed by something that I learned so, so long ago. Talents really are incredible. I have been so blessed to learn more about and use mine the last year.

Isaiah 48:10

"Behold, I have refined thee,

but not with silver;

I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction."

my works

In case you missed it - but I'm sure you didn't - c jane had some interesting discussions going on at her place last week. I generally enjoy reading such Internet discussions, although I rarely join them, because I think we can all learn something from everyone else. Even cowardly anonymous commenters.

There were way too many facets of last week's conversation to cover in one post, or even by myself, but one topic that caught my eye was the "Faith vs. Works" question. (Ah, the old faith or works debate! Check!) The oldest one in the book....
I'm not really going there, either, except to comment on one thing that was said. A commenter criticized "Mormons" for thinking that we can earn our way to heaven, for doing good works and then patting ourselves on the back. I spent approximately .5 seconds thinking about that before I decided that
1. I KNOW good works will not get me to heaven; no one has ever told me that in 22+ years of Mormonship and
2. Still, sometimes I do things just because I think I should. Call it over-achievement, following blindly, an overdeveloped sense of guilt (we Mormons are famous for that one!), call it what you want. Even when there are no foreseeable benefits, even when I don't know why, I try to do what I am asked. Or what I'm not asked. Just hoping it will do me good.

For example.
My brother has been living with Slice and me for almost a month now ... in our one-bedroom, one-bath, half-kitchen portion of the house. We gave him half of our living room when he had nowhere else to go.

I was apprehensive about it, to say the least. I knew he would take our bed, our space, our water, our LIMITED ALONE TIME. I figured he would take our food and towels and toilet paper. And, judging his past behavior, I knew there would be conflict on several different levels.

What I didn't count on was the danger he would pose; the stress it all would put me under. Stress I really don't need right now, if you know what I mean.

And I'm thinking -- I BETTER be earning some brownie points here somewhere.
Judge me as you will.

monday ramblings 1

feeling a bit under the weather
(colds + pregnancy = so fun ... now neither of my ears work properly)

thinking it's probably because of everything I'm bottling up
(no one loves dirty laundry aired on the Internets, but you'll hear about it later anyway)

combined with 5-hour Center Stage rehearsals, 3 jobs, various projects, etc.

and turns out-
it is really nice to have someone who understands the
suffocation/anxiety/frustration/pain
you are living with, and
who still loves you anyway.
(Slice!)
Especially when he shops, cooks meals and washes the dishes while you sleep.


IT TURNS OUT,
someone else knows what you're going through -
and don't you love it when you realize that
scriptures, Sacrament Meeting talks and choir pieces
were written just for you?

I love that.

Fast Sunday hymns

Our ward organist, I am sorry to say, is one of those ward organists who plays every hymn at exactly half-speed.

(Note: I AM NOT ASKING FOR HIS JOB. I couldn't do any better, even if I did take that organ class at BYU, Mother. The class nearly kicked my trash.)

We all know that a hymn taken too fast can be irreverent, right? But hello, nothing takes the spirit out of a meeting like "True to the Faith" as a funeral march. Or any hymn as a funeral march. Also, when the organ registration gets louder and more boisterous with each verse and sometimes the chorus.

The good thing to be gained from such looooong hymns every meeting, I suppose, is the ample time to make faces at siblings. There were times when Matt and I barely made it through ... oh the pain.

(We've had the same organist for quite a while.)

(And last week at my uncle's funeral Slice actually said, "It's nice to hear a hymn played at the right speed!")

Anyway.

The other great thing about this brother is that yesterday he pulled a Pat Robertson, postulating to the ward that the snowstorm in D.C. is really a warning to our government. I'm sure he's not the only one who thinks so, but still, I squirmed in my seat, Slice kept telling me to be quiet - I WAS being quiet - while he blasted everything from health care reform to the national debt.

I love this church.

*image kifed from my friend Bree, who I hope doesn't mind! and who is a MUCH better organist than I am, I'm sure

The Reason

At some point in time between August and October, I had the impression that our trip to Japan would change our lives forever.

Why else would Slice and I, poor newlyweds, have the chance to go to JAPAN for a month? Sure, it's smart to travel before you have kids. Sure we were able to do it cheap because we're young and don't "need" hotels, tour buses, restaurants, or real beds. We could change plans at the last minute (several times); go wherever the wind blew us.

Still, there had to be a Reason. I believe in Reasons.

Plans.

So I've contemplated for five long months just what the reason(s) might be.

Will we adopt a child from overseas someday? Find a job in Japan, live there for months or years? Return in four decades for church service? Will I write a book inspired by my travels in East Asia? (Ha.) I'm open to possibilities.

Obviously, it could take a long time for any of these Reasons to make themselves apparent, if they do at all. But something important has already happened.

I'm finally ready to settle down.
(Bear with me here....)

I've worried for years that I might be unhappy as a stay-at-home mother. I've yearned for travel, post-graduate schooling, a mission; wondered why I married so early. Practically until our Japan trip, I was bitter about not being able to serve a mission.

No longer!

I learned some things in Japan (and the subsequent six weeks).

I learned that I love my bed and my food and family and my jobs - and most of all, my husband.

I am so happy to be eighteen-months-married and looking forward to the birth of our first child.

I admire the missionaries who devote 18 / 24 DIFFICULT months of their lives to serving others and the Lord. Nothing can replace those experiences, I know.

I am grateful for my University degree and everything I have learned in school. I'm grateful for the skills I gained, even if I'm not using them right now, because they have made me a better person.

I'm grateful for the chance I have to be a mother. I love this little dude inside of me.

My husband is going to be the greatest father in the world. I can hardly wait to see it.

All of this to say,

I am content.

That is a real miracle in itself.

For the Love of the Fam

One thing that really surprised me about Japan was the question "What generation are you?"

Meaning, "How many generations of your family have been members of the church?" It came up all the time!

If someone starts talking about pioneer ancestors here, everyone else's eyes glaze over ... because no one cares. But the Japanese do! They are proud -and RARE- if they are 4th-generation Mormons. I love that.

The question also surprised me because I had to really think about it before I could answer. On one hand there are the Halls, the Eddingtons, President Woodruff (obviously) and his wives' families who joined right at the beginning. On the other hand, my mother's mother is a pioneer.

So I've been thinking about the generational links that are sorely missing in our society today, in my opinion, and wondering how I can teach love of family to my children. I am realizing more and more as I get older, family is everything.

Earlier this week we had a family sealing session in the Vernal temple. Grandpa was the sealer, and we sealed 20 couples and 80 children together. (I didn't even almost faint this time...) My mother's been working for a long time to get these names ready.

What better Christmas gift could you give?

The experience was indescribable.

what I am most thankful for right now

http://www.wordle.net/

The Goodness

I'm finally at a computer again! Time for a quick update, nothing fancy, sorry.

Saturday we were in Tokyo again and we made a trip to the temple. It took a whole day but it was SO worth it. Sure enough, we ran into Slice's trainer and two more sisters from his mission. Of course we were asked to be the witness couple ... and I had a headset on, which made everything harder ... but our names were from 1647 and 1442. So cool.

Sunday, we had a disaster of a day trying to get to a Stake Conference, then a Sacrament Meeting, while hauling around our luggage and planning for a 3-hour train ride to Kyoto. Ugh. Still, our meeting was in English, and the primary program made me cry. And Kyoto is SO much warmer than Morioka, we don't even need our jackets! So the day wasn't a total failure.

For the last three days we have been wandering around Kyoto, visiting temples and eating gelato (I introduced Slice to the goodness), and admiring the incredible fall colors here. Oh wow. Tomorrow we plan to go to Hiroshima for the day, come back to our "guest house," and leave for Osaka on Friday.

When we got to this ILIAS place, we discovered that it is a fitness club as well as a hostel (of sorts), complete with indoor driving range. Slice jumped on that. So tonight he is hitting golf balls in the manager's own private practice range ... he already taught a little lesson and got paid for it. I love his marketable skills.

Oh, mom! We found salt & pepper shakers today! We've been looking the ENTIRE time and finally found some down a little cobblestone lane, so happy.

Love and miss you all.

PS I have no picture thumbnails, so I'm just going to pick a few at random and upload them. Please enjoy.

Some things "we" learned today

Write down addresses. Don't think you can remember where it is just from a questionable map (and by questionable I mean they point 'north' whichever way seems convenient), write. it. down.

Five minutes is not enough time to get from the bottom of the train station to the top. Not when you have four large suitcases, two backpacks and a purse between you. You WILL miss the train and spend the next 3 hours trying to find another sacrament meeting.

Primary programs = the best!

Book Shink tickets in advance. You don't want seats on the smoking car, and after you get kicked out of the non-smoking car, you really don't want to sit between cars on your suitcases. It is not comfortable. For any length of time.

Japanese train conductors can be really nice, though.

When your lodging place asks you to email them to confirm, you should do it. So they will actually be ready for you.

Otherwise, be prepared to walk the streets for a while before you find the OTHER place you didn't write down the address for.

The adventures, lovies!

Nakamura Kyoudai

Yesterday afternoon we went to visit Nakamura Kyoudai, a guy Slice has been telling me about for 18 months now. He is in the Morioka branch, just recently started coming back to church ... for his job he takes photographs of birds, paints pictures from the photos, and then carves the birds out of wood. And paints them.

Slice has told me about him several times, and I always just smile and nod, because how strange does that sound? (A guy who's obsessed with birds?) But after we visited him in his shop I finally understood.

Slice acted as translator while Nakamura Kyoudai talked to us for almost two hours. His shop is a room over his house, with huge -and I mean HUGE- lenses all over the room and bookshelves. We counted 10 camera bodies. He also has easels, mats, blocks of wood and tables full of half-finished carvings, and film canisters of paint he's mixed himself.

While we sat there he told me about how as he sits down to paint, he has to have faith that his art will turn out right. ("But you know all about faith," he said, "we talk about it at church.")
He talked about how he went through a long long winter in his life, but then he met someone who really connected with him, and became a good friend. It was Slice. ("You probably know about that connection, too," he said, pointing to us both.)

He said his life has turned warmer, like spring, because of this friend, and now he has started going back to church.
It was so sweet.

He seemed to love me too, for some reason, and let me pick a carved bird from his table to keep. He also drew a quick picture of me as I sat there.
Then Slice and I looked through the pictures on his camera - and had to pick our jaws up off the floor a couple times. The photos were incredible! I told him I would buy just the photographs, they were so good. I loved his paintings, too; I wish I could afford one.

When it was time to go, Nakamura asked his wife to give us a ride home to Yasue's house ("Do you know what a big deal that is?" Slice asked), and we headed out in the rain. She took us almost the whole way. Then we went to eat sushi.

I now have a beautiful carved European robin. What am I going to do with it?

Day 3

So we are staying with Dorian's favorite investigator - Yasue, who was baptized earlier this year - and her family.  She is SO sweet.  And she speaks English very well.  

But her husband doesn't want to see us, and half of the house belongs to her parents, who we are not supposed to bother.  So we spend our time in either the front room of the house (an old beauty salon) or the bedroom upstairs.  See:

We are sleeping on a wood pallet with two futons laid across.  Also, the pillows are buckwheat.

Doesn't that sound lovely?

(Thank heavens I brought one feather pillow with me.)

Also, if I don't make it home, I'll tell you right now it will be because of these staircases.  NOT JOKING.  Do you see how narrow those steps are?  No?

They are too narrow for your feet, sideways.  And there are no railings.  Try them in the middle of the night!

(I have.)

Yesterday there was a district fireside/Joseph Smith commemoration, which was lovely.

Mom, I even played the piano for it.  But Dorian didn't take pictures.

Afterward the Mission President and his wife taught everyone the Virginia Reel and we did some stick pulling.

It was SO FUNNY.

Oh!  And yesterday for lunch we ate at a little place near Yasue's house, and who walked in but the Elders ... Dorian's last companion, his Son.  They were a companionship in this area, and now Gorton is back for his last transfer.  Pretty cool.  They did the stick pull and Gorton won.

Today we were back at the church, for Branch Conference (good thing we weren't fasting...).  It was lovely.  Every congregation has a personality, right?  These members are all so kind, so open, I couldn't believe it.  After the meetings, we all ate a meal together, and they asked us to say a few words.  ha!

And then they wanted to take pictures of us before we left.  More and more and more pictures.  I was kind of embarrassed.

Morgan and Gorton again:

Other random things:

-The food is so VASTLY different.  All of it.  More on this later.

-Still trying to adjust sleeping schedule.  Last night we fell asleep at about 7 and woke up at 3.

-Major blunder #1: I didn't take my shoes off the right way when we first came to the house. Thanks for the heads up, husband.

-Bathrooms weird.  

-We ate our first breakfast in the beauty salon, and used instant oatmeal (that we brought) with warm water from the sink.  Not great.

-HUMID.  My hair weighs twice as much as it normally does.

-Major blunder #2: because I fell asleep so early last night, I had to use the bathroom around 12:30.  I crept down the death stairs, opened the door and YASUE'S DAD WAS IN THERE.  And I couldn't even say sorry in Japanese.

-Speaking of Japanese ... I'm a failure.  I'm perfecting my nodding/bowing skills, though.

semi-religious festivities

Tonight was the traditional Book of Mormon party.

The family finished it again this morning, so we celebrated!

Today's the first time we've invited another family (the Masons) to join.

We sat at a low table adorned with King Benjamin's tower and lit by "glowing stones,"

costumed in robes and togas and furs - and of course Nephite head bands.

For appetizers we had cheese, grain crackers, mangoes, pomegranates, black and green olives, and baby carrots.

Dinner was Curelom and Cumom Stew with homemade whole wheat bread,

cumom milk / secret combinations juice to drink,

and REAL honeycomb on the side.

(Sorry these pictures are so terrible ... Slice had the good camera.)

After the meal we played Who am I? and Book of Mormon charades,

(such excellent actors!)

and ended the night with Tree of Life fruit pie.

Delicious.

Not to brag or anything, but

Abe Mills (you know, Abe Mills of Jericho Road?) came to sing last night after he spoke at our Stake's youth Standards Night.

Earlier, he attended our ward meetings with his family and Slice flipped out, trying to mouth things to me across the Primary Room ... apparently I'm not the best lip-reader.
It was a big deal to Slice, I guess, because Jericho Road toured his mission, and that was A HUGE DEAL to everyone there. Any Mormon celebs in Japan are rare.
He really wanted to take pictures to show his old companions (in 10 days!) - but we decided the awkwardness probably wasn't worth the reward.

And I just laughed, because Abe was in my family's ward in SJ long before he was "Jericho Road." Back then, he was just Brent's Sunday School teacher.
Who also made Bowflex commercials.