If I could have been a fly on the wall...

My sister, Karen, took J Boo to dinner a few weeks ago. They went to one of those buffet restaurants, increasing the likelihood that my child might find something that she will actually eat without complaint. Inevitably, J Boo decided she needed to use the restroom. (I know...another potty post, but I am who I am. Don't judge me.)

Karen escorted J Boo to the restroom, which was fairly busy--enough so that J Boo took one stall and Karen had to take another a couple doors down. Karen kept calling out to make sure J Boo was okay. The exchange could be qualified as a MasterCard moment. (Keep in mind that J Boo has only one volume: LOUD. And there are other people in the restroom. And Karen is easily embarrassed.)

K: J Boo? Are you okay?

J: YEAH, I'M JUST PEE-YUN.

K: Ok. Are you done?

J: NO. NOW I HAFTA POOP!

(Long pause)

J: KARENNNNN????

K: Yes, J Boo?

J: I'M KINDA HAVING A HARD TIME. COULD YOU SING ME THE POOPING SONG?*

K: Um, I don't know that song, J Boo.

J: BUT MY MOM SINGS IT TO ME!

K: Well, I don't know it, so I can't sing it to you.

J (sighing loudly): FINE!

(Repeated sounds of grunting--LOUD grunting--eminate from J Boo's stall)

J: KARENNNNNN????

K (absolutely mortified by now and determined not to leave her own stall until the restroom is completely empty, answers cautiously): Yeeees?

J: DON'T I SOUND JUST LIKE A MAN?



*To see the pooping song, go here. Watch from 30:50 to 30:59.

It's a Curse

See this lizard? It represents what I have started to refer to as The Curse. You see, I have this uncanny ability to find things. It's very handy when I'm looking for something important that I have lost, but it's a curse when my children have lost something important that I wish would stay lost. Case in point: about a year and a half ago, J Boo insisted on carrying this lizard around with her EVERYWHERE. As is typical with any small child, she would drop it somewhere in the house and, after several hours, realize she no longer had it on her person. Drama and tragic wailing would ensue, along with, "Find it, Mama!"

Enter The Curse. I would look everywhere I knew she had been playing, and everywhere she could possibly have been playing, and I would somehow find it. Every stinking time. I took her with me to IKEA a while back to meet a friend. As we were walking through the housewares, J Boo discovered that Lizard was missing. Where she dropped it, I had no idea. I was sure it was gone. She was devastated. And when J Boo is devastated, I go into search and rescue mode. We backtracked very carefully, looking down on the floor or on top of the displays. And there it was, a little black from other shopping carts running over it a couple of times, but still in one piece. I could not believe it.

It happens every time. Just two days ago, J Boo could not remember where she left a little toy mouse she had been playing with. We were on our way out the door, and it HAD to come with us. Could she find it? No. Could I find it? No. Or so I thought. On the way out the door, I turned my head back over my shoulder to encourage J Boo to hurry up and...there it was. That damn mousie thing was behind the massage chair.

It's a curse, I'm telling you.

What Big Bro Is Doing

http://provomayor.blogspot.com/2012/01/permit-no-30000.html

Uh...thanks?

My sister has worked as an R.N. for several years. Throughout those years, the nurses have been given 'thank you' gifts from the hospital that have expressed, shall we say, less appreciation than they were intended to express. One year it was a wool blanket, with the hospital logo on it, that has a nasty smell that no amount of laundering will eliminate. Last year, it was a pair of socks, embroidered with the hospital logo, that didn't match. Two different socks, in one package. Included with the socks was a jar of Ponds age defying cream (because nurses really need it?) and a package of pepperoni. Yes, I said pepperoni. But the best gift of all, and the one no one believes she actually received, is the key chain pictured below:

Overheard on a Sunday Afternoon

Atticus: J Boo, are you done poopin'?

J Boo: No. I'm makin' a slow one.

Atticus: (laughter)

J Boo: I'm makin' a slug!

[Note to self: I may want to curtail her multiple viewings of Flushed Away. Just a thought.]

J Boo: I'm poopin' like a slug!

Atticus: What does a slug say?

J Boo: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Me, hearing strange noises from the living room: J Boo, what are you doing?

J Boo (irritated now): I'm makin' a slug!

Unexpected Hilarity

Phil had to go have some tests done today after work. One of those was the "pee-in-a-cup" test. When Phil got home, Mr. Wiggle Brows was asking why Dad was home so early. When I told him that Daddy had to go somewhere to get some tests done and that he'd had to pee in a cup, Mr. Wiggle Brows asked incredulously, "You mean they don't have bathrooms there????"

Blood and Carnage

In September, we attended the session of Stake Conference for grownups (it sounds so racy to call it "the adult session"). Our Stake President spoke of an experience he had with the Nauvoo Pageant. He was given 11 months to come up with a new presentation, and the last word of direction he was given was "don't frame it in the blood and carnage." How on earth do you share the story of Joseph and Hyrum Smith's martyrdom without any blood and carnage? It was a challenge. I can't describe it the way President W did, but his point was that we should not focus on the blood and carnage we may experience in our lives. We should focus on the eternal perspective and see our hardships for what they are: a refiner's fire.

When I think about the challenges/trials I've been given and spell them out, focusing on the "blood and carnage," it can be quite overwhelming. Some trials have been public, but most have been private. Listing them summarily can send me into waves of self pity, which keeps me from seeing my Heavenly Father's perspective: these trials are sent to sanctify me and my family, to bring us closer to Him and teach us eternal lessons that can be learned in no other way.

When I choose to find the blessings that God has given me through these trials, it is equally overwhelming. Because blessings have come, and they've come in very strange ways. I think of one particular person whose relationship to me and my family would seem completely unfathomable, but she has been an incredible source of strength and joy. She was put in my life exactly when I needed her. I think of my next door neighbor, who has become another sister to me. She loves my children almost as much as she loves her own. We've shared tears and pain, laughter and joy, and I can't even fathom what it will be like when she has to move away. I think of the changes in my brother's life, of his incredible outlook on life, and I am in awe.

I would not have chosen the trials I've been given. But I would not be who I am today without them, and I like the woman I have become. God truly moves in mysterious ways.