If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all . . .

Why does the world have to be filled with rotten people? I suppose it's to help the rest of us strive to be better, but I still wish I didn't have to co habitat with neanderthals.

I've been following the tragic results from the story of Camille Cleverly and my heart just ached for her family and friends. I went to her facebook site to offer my condolences and instead found some arrogant boy making snide comments about "alot of good your praying did, she's still dead" and "why don't you all keep your religious comments to yourselves!".

I was utterly appalled! How could anyone be so devoid of human feeling, as to attack someone when they are dealing with a loss? A better person would of probably said nothing, but seeing as I have some neanderthal in me as well, I wrote on the site and asked people to have some sensitivity. This of course opened the floodgates to cretins everywhere, to personally attack me, right down to my looks and weight.

Why do people feel the need to belittle others to make themselves feel better? Why can't people be tolerant of others beliefs and have some respect for human life, regardless if they knew the person or not. The whole thing just disgusted me. The natural man in me had some pretty witty comments for the bitter young lady who had sent me messages. I'm not the kind of person to stand by and let people take shots at me. I've never been able to walk away from a fight when it becomes personal, so it will surprise you all what I choose to do. Nothing. I blocked the young lady from sending me further messages (apparently my last message to her to stop emailing me, was not received) and I removed myself from the Camille site.

Unfortunately, now I can't stop all the witty comments from swirling in my head and the feeling of defeat and cowardice. I suppose it all comes back to the same thing, we need those kind of people in the world so we can rise above it all and become better people. If only we could do that and still have the last word.

Where Can I Turn For Peace?

The last couple of weeks I've been working on a hymn medley to sing with Ben and my friends Jayne and Jed Wells in church. We sung the song in church yesterday, and we had practiced it several times before that, but it wasn't until I was in the shower this morning, that the words struck my heart.

This is the first part:

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources fail to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

Have you ever found yourself asking these very questions? Where can I find peace? Do you ever feel like you are trying to fill the void with the wrong kinds of things? Do you ever have to dig deep into your soul when you are hurting? I know I've felt that way and it just sounded so profound to me. I found myself going "yes, I felt that struggle for peace, but where can I get real peace in the middle of trials?"

Then the second part of the song came into mind:

Be still, my soul:
The Lord is on thy side
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul:
Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

I must of sung this song a million times, but never was it such an answer to my prayers. We can be at peace because the Lord is on our side. If we patiently endure our pains and trust God he will put things in order and provide for us. He is our best and most faithful friend and will lead us through the end.

Here is the final part of the song:

Our Savior's love shines like the sun with perfect light.
As from above it breaks thru clouds of strife.
Lighting our way, It leads us pack into his sight.
Where we may stay to share eternal life
Eternal life.

Our Saviors love is perfect; something that is given without us having to be perfect. I've often wondered how people going through hardships can claim they feel peace even though they still feel pain. Our Savior's love makes it possible. It's hard for us in our mortal state to understand how He makes it possible, but He does. Even when the path is unclear, or the trials are difficult, or the pain is strong, His love makes it endurable. All we have to do is ask.

Tales from the Potty Whisperer

I had the pleasure of spending my Labor Day weekend trying to potty train my daughter Ella. I realized she was only 22 months old, so I was leery about even trying since she was so young, but she had been very enthusiastic about the whole thing and I didn't want to discourage her.

Last month we almost went crazy trying to keep diapers on the poor thing. The minute she would see a potty (this could even be just a picture of one) she would pull off her diaper and go and sit down and then of course demand a clean diaper even though the old one hadn't been used. She would also do this the minute her diaper got dirty, which was pretty nasty when it was a #2 concoction. Twice, she successfully went in the potty. After much deliberation and several wasted diapers we decided to give in and start potty training.

It didn't take long for me to remember why I hated potty training so much. You are basically imprisoned to your house and sentenced to asking your toddler if they are dry every 5 minutes. I couldn't even escape it in sleep. My dreams were laced with "are you dry"s and "do you have to go potty?"

Ells was willing for the most part to sit on the potty, but actually doing anything on the potty was another story. We gave her tons to drink to encourage her to go, but the little stinker just kept holding it in. I had a chart to record when she drank, had accidents, and went potty etc. so I knew about when an accident would occur. Around that time I'd encourage her to go potty.

We'd sit and sit and sit, but nothing. Games, stories, singing, coloring. . . still nothing. She just kept holding it in. I finally let her get up when my legs lost all feeling in them and then after pulling up her pants she'd take a few steps and just explode. Augh!

This happened several times with the holding time just getting longer. Finally I decided I'd just keep her entertained on the potty until she went. She however was going for some Olympic record because she was not going to go. I finally had to leave for my show and I got a call from Ben a few minutes later that she had finally gone.

Ben did a big hooray for her and gave her tons of treats, but she still seemed upset. I decided I'd try again the next day and see how it went before I decided to bag it.

Again it was a game of holding it in, until she'd stand up, or even better the time when she was jumping on our couch and had a Niagra Falls moment.

After cleaning the couch I realized she just really wasn't ready for it after all. She was having some major concerns about actually going on the potty and I didn't want to make things worse. I decided I would revisit this nightmare again in a couple months.

In the meantime I've been fighting with the feelings of failure. Supermom could potty train in one day, why couldn't I? This of course just opened the flood gates for overall inadequacy. I was discussing this with a friend and I think I'm going to write a book: Tales from the Potty Whisperer and other fantastical stories. I envision a funny book making fun of all those extreme new age parenting books that claim to know all the secrets about parenting. For example I remember reading a parenting book that suggested if your child didn't pick up their toys, you didn't punish them or give them any consequences, but picked the toys up yourself and just told your child you were disappointed in them. Now any kid with the devious gene like my son is going to learn to live with the disappointment in exchange for a full service maid. Oh I've read dozens of funny claims that would just be funny to discuss in a book. (I've also read a lot of good ideas in parenting books too, so I'm not making fun of parenting books, just extremists)

O.k. so I'm not really going to write a book or anything, but it did make me think that maybe I'm just too hard on myself and my kids. Society sets these unreal expectations that anyone short of Supermom is going to fail. Unfortunately this is even more so in Mormon culture. We love our kids, we want them to have the best, and we want to be the best mom ever. But does that mean you have to do everything?

Is it really imperative that we all get up at the crack of dawn to make homemade bread, or make our own organic baby food, or hand sew all our kid's costumes, or have them reading before they are three, or get them into the most prestigious pre-school? No. Sure these are all great things, and I would kill to have any of these talents, but does it make you less of a Mom if you don't do those things. I've concluded that it really doesn't. What children are going to remember is that we loved them and made time for them.

Now does that solve all feelings of inadequacy. Unfortunately not, but hopefully it will give me some comfort to remind myself that I'm a good mom because I love my kids. Even if they are in diapers until they graduate!