The Missing Wedding Ring

We had been married no less than a year, maybe two, still attending college. We had a decent-sized apartment and were living off of government grants, Husband Man's meager salary, and five dollar pizzas. Our life wasn't overly busy, but there was one day where Husband Man realised he had somehow misplaced his wedding ring.

It was afternoon, and we spent a good chunk of it searching for the ring. We treasure our wedding rings and their symbolism, so we certainly wanted it back sooner rather than later. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom-- even the large vent in the floor outside the bathroom, and the two extra bedrooms upstairs... pockets of all the dirty clothes turned inside out... places that made sense, and places that didn't... no ring. Nothing. I felt heartbroken as we wondered whether it was even in the house.

Finally we sat down to pray. I remember we had the thought, and knelt right there on the cool tile of the front entryway. Husband Man said the prayer, and asked Father in Heaven for help to find this ring because it meant so much to us. He ended the prayer, and got up to search again. I just knelt there, arms still folded. Where on earth could it be?

Then I stood, and wandered back into the bathroom. He had taken a shower that morning, and usually left the ring on the counter. Almost without thinking I reached down into the little trash can that sat on the floor by the cabinet. I moved a few tissues and revealed Husband Man's wedding ring, nestled right in the trash. I snatched it up--thank goodness we had looked then instead of waiting for it to turn up! We would have thrown the trash (and the ring) out and been none the wiser. We knelt right away and said a prayer of Thanksgiving.

Shortly after the incident I found a small dish to put on the bathroom counter where we could put rings when they weren't being worn.

Fast forward three or four years, to about a week ago. We have just celebrated five years together, with one (ridiculously adorable) son and a baby on the way. We have lived in no less than four different apartments. The ring dish was replaced by a different one that could also hold my earrings--but it was still keeping rings safe during showers.

I've picked up the habit of taking my rings off when I'm in the kitchen. I rinse my fingers often when I'm cooking or baking, and my wedding ring especially sort of holds water and leaves my finger wet for a while. I'll remove it and lay it on the counter to dry, and then put it back on when I come across it next. If Husband Man is home, he'll usually pick it up and take them to the dish in the bathroom (which is where they should go, really).

At some point on Sunday evening I had taken the rings off, and never gotten around to finding them again. It wasn't until I was getting to leave the house Monday afternoon that I realised I wasn't wearing my wedding ring. No problem--I went to the bathroom, where I knew I would find it. All my rings were there... except my wedding ring. A spark of panic lit in my stomach. I rushed to the kitchen, but I had just finished cleaning it and hadn't come across the ring. Oh no, what if it was in the garbage disposal?? Can't look now, I'm supposed to be leaving... I dashed around the house, pleading in my heart to find the ring, but no luck. I took GB to the science center without my ring.

Husband Man came home, and asked if I had found the ring. I told him I hadn't, and ended up being more emotionally upset than was probably necessary (thanks, pregnancy). He calmed me down and sent me to the store with GB while he searched the house. The hour I was gone I kept telling myself he would find the ring--he finds lots of things. When I returned home, the only thing he had found was a missing screwdriver (thanks, GB). I again felt heartbroken. I love my wedding ring, how could I have lost it?

Trying to pray in my heart while I searched wasn't enough. I finally went into the bedroom and knelt down before my Heavenly Father. Whenever I pray, I know I'll receive an answer... but I often doubt that I'll understand the answer, that I'm somehow incapable of getting it. A scripture we had just talked about in companion study popped into my head--from Alma, where he is teaching the people and says something to the effect of, "If you have no more than a desire to believe, a tiny seed, then the Lord will hear you." In a "help thou my unbelief" moment, I pleaded with Father to not only help me receive an answer, but to overcome my weakness. I needed to know where my ring was, it was so important to me.

I ended the prayer, but before I could have time to ponder an answer GB came running in and found me. Trusting that Heavenly Father would help me, I put the matter in His hands. He had helped me before; He would do it again. I helped GB with his toys, and then went back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. Again, I went through in my mind where I had been over the last 24 hours, when I might have taken the ring off... the kitchen was the only place I thought of...

Then I remembered Husband Man's habit of picking up after me. Every once in a while he'll put the ring in his pocket before he gets to the bathroom. I asked him if it was possible the ring was in his pants pocket. He replied that he didn't think so, but if it would help me feel better he would go and look in his pockets from yesterday. After a few minutes he came into the kitchen--the ring had been in his pocket the entire time. He felt bad, but I was just happy it was found. I hugged him and thanked him, (I knew he was happy too). Then I quickly went back to the bedroom to say a prayer of thanksgiving. My heart swelled with joy and gratitude that my Father in Heaven had heard me and answered my prayer.

I know that Heavenly Father watches out for me, and my family. I know He loves me, and also each one of His children. I'm so grateful to know that He wants me to be happy, and will help me with the things that are truly important to me--even if it is just a wedding ring.

What I've Learned About Cleaning

A while back I shared a cleaning schedule I made to help me keep my house tidy and under some semblance of control. I wasn't perfect at following it, but when I did it was great. I knew when the towels and sheets had been washed, when I had dusted, that things were getting taken care of. It helped Husband Man, because when Saturday rolled around he could see what I had or hadn't done. Our small apartment was kept clean! (Or as clean as you can get with a toddler...)

Then it came time for our (yearly) move. We found a cheaper place with a larger living space; it was perfect for our growing family. We could have our kitchen table back, which meant less food was consumed in the living room (and therefore there was less mess). But for some reason the cleaning schedule wasn't working for me anymore. Laundry was taking longer and longer to finish. More floorspace meant more pep-talking myself into vacuuming. And being pregnant means I have even less of a desire to do those things that I already didn't like...

A couple of weeks ago someone suggested a website called Habitica to us. At first glance it looks silly and stupid... but for us, it worked. I could put daily things to do, like exercise and drink water, but I could also include habits (like housecleaning) and to-do lists, for those chores and tasks that popped up outside of any cleaning regimen. As we've been using this site, we find motivation to complete tasks instead of ending our day in a guilty stupor in front of a computer screen. And as things get done, I've learned some things...

Effort breeds effort.
Husband Man took to Habi like a fish to water. It was pretty much exactly what he needed to motivate himself to have less computer time and more productive time. And I think it's better for him, too-- he can accomplish things that have been bothering him, in a more timely manner, and he feels more immediately accomplished (than his job allows right now). This makes him feel in control, and much better. And when he does those tasks, it makes me want to complete mine so we can both feel proud of what we have done.

Cleaning by example helps.
The dailies list helps me to remember to do little tasks every day, things that shouldn't be difficult and take too much time and effort, but are constantly overlooked. I have things like checking my email, reading scriptures, and tidying the bedroom(s). Husband Man started making the bed every day, but we both have a bad habit of just throwing our clothes on the floor. I would always put off cleaning it up, until it consumed the floor. I added the bedrooms to my dailies list, which meant that the bedroom was always clean AND when I went to put my clothes away at night, I would take the extra two seconds to put them either back in the drawer or in the dirty clothes. Less to clean up in the morning means a free pass on the 'tidying bedroom(s)' task! After about a week of this, I noticed that I was picking up less of Husband Man's clothes, too. As I took better care of the room, he wanted to take better care of it too.

Daily tidying up makes a HUGE difference.
Tidying the bedroom, loading the dishwasher every day, and making a round to just pick up clutter-- if you are ever on pinterest, you've surely come across that ten-minute clean-up tip or the two minute rule I shared in my previous cleaning post. There's a reason it's out there: it works. Picking up clutter helps toward a clean house. It just makes you feel better. And doing it every day keeps it from piling up, so it's easier to accomplish. Couple this with the previous thought, and now you have at least two people possibly working to keep the house tidy. I call that a win-win!

If a task as-written doesn't help you accomplish it, then change how you do it.
Let's talk laundry. On my previous schedule I did it every two weeks. We all had enough clothes, so it worked... mostly. If you counted the fact that after two weeks I had at least four large loads to do, and it took me at least half the week to actually complete it. But I stuck to it. It didn't make sense to me to do a load every day, and weekly laundry seemed even more tedious.
But since we moved to the new place, over the last three weeks I've just done laundry every week. I mean, I kind of have to--I only have about a week's worth of maternity shirts that currently fit. But I find that I actually like it better. Doing a week's worth of laundry means that I have less to wash; less to wash means I have fewer and smaller loads. For the first time in forever I did the laundry in one day. ONE DAY, people. Washed, dried, and folded. The end. And when I crawled into bed that night? It felt really good. (On a side note, we apparently need more hangers.)

Sometimes, you've just got to force yourself to create a habit.
I have always struggled to read my scriptures. That's the chink in my spiritual armor. When we first moved away from college, I begged Husband Man to let us have cable so I could amuse myself while staying home with a baby. The problem was, I would catch myself turning the tv on first thing in the morning... so I told myself I couldn't watch tv until I had done my scripture study. At face value that sounds awful. As a child of God, who is trying to do what is right, I shouldn't need to force myself to read the word of God on a daily basis, right?? But I had to force myself to do it. As I did, I found myself wanting to read, and watching less tv. It built that desire.
The same thing has come with other habits. Placing them on Habi has helped me to just do them. Lately I find myself decluttering as I go--I made GB a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and instead of leaving everything out on the counter, jars open, I caught myself putting them away after using them. (Which is a two-fold blessing... the house is cleaner on a more regular basis, which means Husband Man isn't slightly aggravated when he comes home and cleans up all my messes.)

I'm super happy that this is working for us now. In just a couple of weeks Husband Man and I have accomplished so much. And what makes me even happier is that we are setting an example for Gummy Bear. It doesn't do anything to ask him to put his toys and books away when the kitchen is covered in dishes and the bedrooms in clothes-- that's counterproductive. I'm super excited that we finally have a new schedule under our belts, and that we can continue to progress as a family.
Make a list, find your motivation, and then, as the scriptures say, "Go and do!"

That They Might Have Joy

The woman in question was of about average height, long blonde hair and a bird-like nose and a bashful smile that was beautiful when she showed it. It came out that this woman was 51 years old, and I think my jaw cracked the foundation of my apartment. She looked maaaaybe to be in her thirties! But this woman would stand in front of the mirror, looking so stiff and uncomfortable, completely worried that she looked horrible and people would judge her. She was so hesitant to and almost unwilling to love herself, that she made Stacey and Clinton feel uncomfortable.

Yes, I was watching "What Not To Wear" again (DON'T LEAVE), and yes, I was staring with my mouth open again at the transformation. But this time it wasn't because the transformation was stunning-- this time, it was because I realised something. The entire time I was watching this episode, I had one thing going through my head...

When I am 50 years old, will I love myself?

(Oh no, this post is getting pinterest cheesy. Hang in there with me, I won't do it again.)

It's obvious what that image is saying, but think about it with yourself. If there's one person on this earth who is always with you, it's you. In this world where there is so much to do, so many places to be, so many things to get done, do you really have time to be hard on yourself? How much of your precious time is spent in front of the mirror criticizing yourself? They say that you spend something like two weeks of your life waiting at stoplights; I bet there are a lot of women who spend that much time frowning in the mirror.

While I was reading my scriptures today, I was directed to 2 Nephi 2:27...
"Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself." (Emphasis added)

I also found Luke 22:31...
"And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat..."
Or, as I see it,
"And the Lord said, Ashy, Ashy, behold, Satan hath desired to have you..."
(You can put your own name in there.)

The adversary is unhappy, and seeks to make you unhappy. The Lord has placed us on this earth and told us to be happy and joyful. If you're constantly bashing yourself for how you look, how much you weigh, how "old" you look, how many lines you have on your face, whatever it is, then you aren't living as the Lord wants you to. Trust me on this: as I have been learning to love and be happy with myself, even with all my "flaws", I have been learning that there is even more joy in the Gospel and in this life.

Quell the "If only..." syndrome. We all have it. If only I could lose ten pounds. If only I could have smaller feet. If only I didn't have acne. If only I didn't have stretch marks. If only I could have a waist like her. If only I could have straight hair. If only I could look like her. If only...
I am guilty of this. I've cried myself to sleep over the stretch marks, the leftover baby chub, the big feet, the unruly hair, whatever else I look in the mirror and see wrong.
But when I look in the mirror and focus on what I like, I realise that these things are the things other people see. No one judges me on my leftover pregnancy acne, or the stretch marks, and if they do then I hope that it can bring them joy, if only for a moment. (After all, you will be judged as you judge others...)

I'm not saying that you shouldn't care about working towards losing ten pounds, or getting rid of your acne, or whatever. Those are good goals. It's when those "if-only's" start taking over your happiness, when those flaws become an obsession, that it is a problem.

You may never look like a runway model or magazine cover girl, and that's ok! I know I won't-- my post-baby hips fit in a size 10 jeans and not a size smaller. It is physically impossible for me to look like a runway model. But let me tell you-- I look darn good in my jeans, because they flatter my body, they are comfortable, and I like my hips. I didn't always like these hips, but I do now because my husband forced me to look in the mirror and tell him what I liked about myself. I still remember his face when I told him I didn't like anything about me-- he was disappointed, sad, that I couldn't be happy. Our Heavenly Father is unhappy when you are unhappy, because He wants his children to have joy. As I learned to voice what I like, I learned that I like other parts of me that the world says are bad. We are told to live in the world but not of the world, and I believe that includes the world's standard of beauty. The world wants you to dislike yourself, because then you'll relentlessly spend money on products and things that will supposedly hide or remove those flaws. I'll say it again: The Lord wants us to be happy.

Don't spend your life criticizing yourself. Don't turn 51 and still be sighing as you look in the mirror, wishing you didn't look like you did. You will age. You will change. You will still be beautiful. Don't waste two weeks of your life saying "if only..." Don't let the world tell you what you should look like. Set goals to achieve fitness and healthiness. Be content. Be happy!

Trust me, it's so worth it!

Simplify, And Be Content.

This afternoon, while browsing Pinterest, I came across a beautiful quote from a very intelligent lady:

[This is not my image/subway art/etc. I just found it on the interwebs.]

Marjorie Hinckley is the wife of the prophet Gordon B. Hinckley. I don't remember overly much about either of them because I was young when they were alive, but whenever I see pictures of the two of them, you can tell they love each other SO much. This quote is, I think, so beautiful, and greatly depicts her wisdom and intelligence. 

As women, we tend to feel pressure. Pressure to be the perfect mom, the perfect wife, to turn our children into geniuses and our husbands into romantics. Pressure to have perfect meals, to have a spotless house, worthy to be in a magazine. Pressure to look fashionable, to have clean and presentable children. Pressure to never get sick or depressed, to have endless amounts of energy. Pressure to create perfect projects, to host perfect parties, to take beautiful vacations, to host perfect holidays. Pressure to document our perfect lives to prove that our lives are perfect. Pressure to do it all, and then some, without relief, and never complain. 

News flash! Women are imperfect, and that's ok.

"We have to decide what is important..."

Seriously. What is important to you? This isn't the same answer for everyone. Some women crave romanticism from their husbands. Some women want to host perfect holidays for their children. Think through what you do in your life, and decide what takes priority. Maybe your housecleaning isn't quite as important as taking your children to a park or helping them build with legos. Deciding what's important is up to you.

"...and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us."

Maybe you have too much on your daily plate of things to accomplish. Maybe you squash that thought in the back of your mind that tells you that you can't do it all. Maybe you feel like you're always tired and rundown, and when you lay down to sleep at night you dread the thought of waking up and going through it all over again. Maybe what you're trying to do is simply too much.

"We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove something."

Why do you have so much on your plate? I understand that some days are just full, messy days. What about all the rest of your days? What is filling them that you feel pressure to do so much, and then feel failure every time you don't succeed? What are you trying to prove? What does it matter?

"We have to learn to be content with what we are."

This part and the maturity part are my favorite parts of this quote. I never thought of trying to do it all just to keep up with other women as a lack of maturity. I think one of the biggest downfalls of being women is that we judge each other. We do. We judge each other all the time, and in doing so, we compare ourselves to that other person. Whether it's "Oh, she's so beautiful and amazing, I'll never be able to be like that" or whether it's "Look, she made a mistake, and that makes me feel good about myself, haha on her", we are still judging and comparing ourselves to each other. And what is worse, I think we do it without realising it sometimes. I figured that out one day when I said something to the effect of "I'm not pretty" and when my husband asked why, I compared my post-pregnancy body to that of another woman, to which my husband asked "Why do you do that to yourself?" I realised that I was almost saying things like that because I was used to it, as if I couldn't give any other answer besides "I'm not good enough ever". 

I know we can't change overnight. I know that the world isn't going to change. I know that we'll always feel pressure to act like nothing can stop us, not even childbirth. I know that there will always be that neighbor, that sister at your church, maybe even a relative or that in-law, who does seem like they can do it all. Maybe a few of them can. But I bet you five bucks that the people who look like they do it all shed countless tears into their pillows because they feel overwhelmed, because they can't do it all. But how you feel when you look at those people is entirely up to you. No one else. No one else should tell you that you're not good enough, because what's good enough for you isn't the same as what's good enough for someone else. There will be times when we fall short of goals and things that we felt like we should accomplish. There will be times when something as simple as vacuuming the floor just doesn't happen. That's ok. There are times when we should expand what's good enough for us, and we might not get it right the first time, or even the second or third or seventh or eighth time. That's ok too. I wish we could all look around and realise that it's not a contest. That we're good people. That successes and failures don't necessarily define us. That we are each individuals that are worthy of feeling content and happiness.

Psalm 46:10 tells us to:

Jacob 6:2 reads "O be wise; what can I say more?"

And Dieter F. Uchtdorf reminds us that...

Simplify. Take the little steps you need to slow down your lives as much as you can. Make sure you are taking care of yourself-- exercise, eat (as healthy as possible, without setting yourself up for failure), read scriptures, pray, sleep. Caring for yourself will only help you care for your family. Once you simplify, be content. And smile! A woman always looks best when she's smiling.

[Note: All images in this post were found on the internet. I honestly don't know who made them, or where they originated. If I find out, credit will be given where it is due. Thanks to those who make such beautiful art with the words of the wise.]

The Piano Guys

So Husband Man, his sister and her husband, and I all got to go see the Piano Guys in concert last night. It was one of the best concerts I've ever been to! These four guys get together and create these astounding musical arrangements with amazing videos to go with them. It really reaffirms my love of music, especially watching these men do what they love with joy and smiles and dancing.

When I was learning music in middle and high school, I was sort of a die-hard traditionalist when it came to music. By "traditionalist" I mean that I really didn't like the use of technology in music. I felt like it was cheating. Electronic instruments, whether keyboards or cellos, sounded fake to me. Using electronics to record you playing different parts of music and then looping them together was weird-- I felt that if you couldn't play it live by yourself then it was cheating. Even recording music was hard for me to digest sometimes-- I understand the value of it, by allowing more audiences to hear it and so on, but at the same time being able to record multiple performances and piecing together the good parts or whatever wasn't something I was sure I was fine with.

It's not that I wasn't exposed to electronics and music, either. I'd heard electronic string instruments played in person, but I still didn't like it compared to the real thing. I grew up playing on an electric keyboard when I was first taking piano lessons, because my family didn't have a real piano. I had a friend in high school who looped tracks together to create his own music. Even so, it just didn't seem right to me (or I refused to accept it, I'll honestly say I don't know which it was).

Little by little, however, over the course of my college career, I've really come to appreciate what electronics and media can do for audiences. I knew the value of it when it came to musicals, but that made sense at the time-- you are trying to tell a story, and you can create a better connection with your audience by incorporating music, staging, props, and lighting. But really, how is that any different with any type of music? You are still trying to connect with your audience, to get them to feel the things you created the music for.

I don't think I meant to be close-minded to the use of technology. I definitely think that there are some good things done with it, (and also some pretty weird things...). Take organs, for example-- because of electronics we have our easier-to-use modern organ, so you can have full pipe organs or organs with pipes and electronic "pipes", as well as smaller fully-electronic organs that can be stashed in a tiny practice room (or my future living room, just sayin'). In the Piano Guys concert, Steven Sharp Nelson used his looping electronic doo-dad (I don't remember what it was called, sorry) to create entire tracks on-stage in real time. To me that takes guts, (what if you mess up a layer of your track??) and to hear it done was incredible. I couldn't fathom that he could come up with all those intertwining layers of music and put the together in a way that made sense. Still not convinced? Remember the post I wrote about the experibass?

Even writing music is so much nicer with electronics. I bought the Finale program for my Scoring and Arranging class on campus, and I definitely have plans to put it to good use! Forget writing it out on physical staff paper and trying to play it on a piano and have it make sense-- now I can enter it in electronically, and even hear it played by "instruments" so I can get a better idea of how things will sound. (I'm not going to say the program is perfect, because I think the brass instrument sounds are horrible... but it's incredibly useful.) And when I'm done with it, I can print it off right in my own house, and there's a hard copy of the piece I just put together.

Now, I'm not going to say I'm completely sold on everything. I still think classic cello sounds way better than electronic, and a grand piano will always sound nicer than a keyboard. The point is that electronics can bless our lives in such a way that music can reach out farther and farther in the world, to more people than before. It allows people to take their talents and expand them beyond imagination. I used to think that Beethoven would have rolled over in his grave if he ever heard his music played by electronic instruments. Now I think he looks down from heaven and marvels at what we have, and probably wonders what he could have done if he was in our shoes.

I believe that you can take music and force your way into its secrets, and that there isn't just one way to go about doing that. Technology is one of those ways-- the Piano Guys proved that to me tonight. I'd been considering the use of technology in music over the last year or so, but to see it put into action, live, and how much these men enjoyed what they did and how far their influence reached-- that really solidified my thoughts. I'm so excited that I am involved in such a wonderful part of this world, so grateful that music exists and that I was able to study it in college. I'm going to keep expanding my musical talents in any way I want to. 

Challenge accepted, Piano Guys-- challenge accepted.

Hey, Ladies-- Stop Standing in the Snow!

I was chatting with my sister a month or so back, we started chatting about some interesting things...
(She's green, I'm white, btw.)

Do you hear what my sister is saying, people? (Or is it read what she's writing..? Whatever.)

Women are SO hard on themselves. We look in the mirror and have our moments of "Woe is me" and "I'm so ugly, how could anyone love me?" and then we get stuck in this mindset. We're not just stuck-- we're raised in this mindset. We grow up in a world where we are never good enough. We're standing in the snow, and our feet are freezing, and we think "Woe is me, my feet are frozen" and then we keep standing there and stuff our faces with chocolate. Why don't we move??

Think about it, ladies-- when your husband/boyfriend/significant other looks at you and says that you're pretty/gorgeous/beautiful/etc, what do you usually say? Do you stare at him like he's blind? Do you tell him "No, I'm not, I have zits raging across my face and my butt is huge and I'm not wearing makeup and I look like a camel!" (or something along those lines)?

What about when random strangers compliment you? I will never forget a situation back in high school, I was at some place for some orchestra concert, I was in all black and had long hair then, and a lady stopped me and complimented me on my appearance. Instead of saying "Thank you" I was a stupid teenager and pointed out some flaw that I had that I thought would somehow negate her compliment or prove her wrong or something. This woman got a little stiff and pretty much told me off, in a very polite way, telling me that I should accept compliments and not be rude. Then she walked off. That's when I realised that she was trying to be genuinely nice, and I had been genuinely a jerk.

I was rewatching an episode of Say Yes To The Dress, and this bride came in with her fiance to look for a wedding dress. She came out in the first dress and the first words out of the fiance's mouth were "Oh wow... You look gorgeous, babe!" And this woman stood up tall on that pedestal and said in a loud voice, "Thank you, dear!"
That blew me away. This was a woman who I'm sure looked in the mirror sometimes and thought she looked fat and ugly. And yet, when her future husband told her she looked beautiful, she knew that she was beautiful and told him so. At some point she decided she didn't like having cold feet, and decided to take her chips and go stand in the sunshine.

I tried this a couple of weeks ago. Usually when Husband Man tells me I'm beautiful I either tell him he's crazy, or I tell him a sort-of "thanks" and look really embarrassed. One evening, however, Husband Man looked at me and called me "gorgeous" and I looked at him and said "Thank you, Husband!"
Do you know what happened?
He was stunned.
And then he was really pleased.  And I'm pretty sure I saw him fall in love with me even more.
I got really embarrassed because he was so happy, but I could tell that he really liked that I acknowledged him as a person, and told him that his opinion mattered to me.
Words say more than what they literally say.

Now, in no way do I think that you should just blandly say "Thank you" to every compliment that is made to you. People are going to compliment you on those days that you feel like you've been simultaneously run over by a herd of buffalo and pooped on by a flock of migrating geese. But when you get a compliment, say "Thank you" and smile. Even if you don't believe it. And then think about why they could have said it. Let people serve you. If someone breaks out of their selfish-shell and acknowledges your presence, you should be flattered. Genuinely.

You can't change your thoughts overnight, but you can start. You can look at yourself in the mirror until you see past the raging wall of zits and imperfections and start seeing the beauty. Think about common compliments you get. Husband Man likes to scritch my nose and tell me it's so cute and little. So one time I stared in the mirror until I actually saw my nose, and I realised that he was kind of right-- my nose is little and cute, and it's covered in freckles (which are pretty cute too).

So move to the sunshine and thaw your toes! What does Elder Uchtdorf say? STOP IT! Think about it-- do you like looking in the mirror and seeing only imperfections? Try a little harder to be a little happier. I'm pregnant, and with pregnancy comes really horrible acne. I've never had acne this bad in my life-- not even close. I can use soap and treatments until my nose falls off and my chin splits in two, but there is more to me and my face than acne. If that's all people see when they look at me, then that's their problem for being a pessimist. I don't want to be a pessimist. I want to enjoy my life, enjoy being pregnant, not spend my days laying on the couch eating chips and bemoaning my "pregnancy glow". I want to stand in the sunshine and be free from frozen toes!

Amen, Sister! :What Are We Doing to Ourselves??

First of all, you need to go read a post written by another gal on her blog. It's at Rage Against the Minivan (the title of her blog already draws you in, so just click it and read!).
It's ok, I'll wait while you read. I'm not going anywhere. I can amuse myself.

Read the entire thing... all of it.....

Ok. I think this lady makes some good points. I admit I had no idea that the holiday craze was such a big deal! I thought all those holiday pins on Pinterest were just pinned and then fell by the wayside. People actually do elf on the shelf? People actually "plant" jelly beans so their kids can wake up to lollipops on the lawn? People actually make teacher gifts?

I'm not trying to be rude here. If you're a parent and planting jelly beans is a way that you love to connect with your child, then I am all for it. When I was growing up, one way my parents show their love is by giving gifts. They LOVE to give us things; even after I got married, they still send us treats occasionally and we are absolutely spoiled over Christmas and birthdays. There were many years where I woke up to a valentine and a treat from my dad, ranging from stuffed animals to jewelry to candy. Even just this last year my mom was in the area and she gave me my Easter basket with some treats inside. This is how my parents enjoy loving us, and for the most part I think my siblings and I are grateful for the things they get us.

What bothers me about this are the parents who plant jelly beans because they feel like they have to. It's the parents who bend over backwards to "keep up with the Jones's" and make sure their house looks impeccable, their child looks adorable, and that everything is appropriately decorated for every possible holiday. The parents who are always worn out, who feel like they have to be perfect, that they have some standard to live up to.

Where did this idea come from? Why do we beat ourselves us and run ourselves ragged just to do all this JUNK?

(Probably advertising. I might start blaming everything on advertising. They're the reason I have to shave my legs.)

What's even more sad to me is that some of these holidays actually have a meaning behind them, and the meaning is lost behind advent calendars and dying eggs. With Easter approaching, and a Yockeyite on the way, a thought that sometimes shows up is How on earth will I teach Gummy Bear the meaning of Easter? How can I show Gummy Bear that the Easter Bunny is a hoax, and that what we really are celebrating is the resurrection of our Savior? (No offense to the Easter Bunny, but his role in Easter celebrations is kind of stupid, in my mind. It makes no sense!)

Anyways, I echo what this lady says... Stop the madness! Like I said, if you hide gold coins and dye eggs because you enjoy that time with your children (and they enjoy it too), then do it! We don't all have the same methods for raising children. The point is, we don't need to make our lives even more busy than they already are. You don't have an obligation to do all this random, weird stuff just to love your kids--there are other, easier ways to do that. Keep simplicity alive.

Yockeyites Are Getting Healthier

I couldn't think of a better title. This is totally going to turn people away. BUT DON'T! This is so cool!

So we've been married for almost two years, and we aren't very good at doing things we probably should. Cleaning the house? We vacuum before people come over... Which isn't often. Fruits and veggies? Here and there. Exercise? Not really. We're even really bad at drinking water!

Well, I got sick of this. I wanted us to get into better habits. Yeah, we're college students, we can't do everything, but we knew we could do something. And I really felt like if we tried hard to do better then we would be blessed.

So I sat down with Husband Man and we made a chart. We started with a list of things that we need to do daily, such was waking up on time, reading scriptures, morning prayer, how much water we drank, one fruit and one veggie, exercising, tidying up the house, brushing your teeth, doing homework, and going to bed on time. Then we made a list of things we wanted to do weekly, such as going to the temple, FHE, washing the dishes (3x a week), vacuuming, and sweeping. The next list was for things that could be done twice a month, which for us was doing laundry and washing the sheets. The last list we did were things we felt we could do once a month, which included things like dusting, deep cleaning the bathroom (instead of just wiping down surfaces), and mopping.

By the time we completed the lists we felt it was something we could do, even with our busy schedules. So now we write our first initials on the line, and every day we fill out what we got done. Some days are better than others, but it's become kind of fun to try and see how much I can get done that day. It looks like a lot, but most of them don't take that long. It reminds us to add veggies to meals, to grab a banana on the way out, to keep hydrated, and to get up on time.

The best part is that I can tell the difference. I haven't dozed off in class, even though some nights I don't sleep well because Dan's gone on night shifts all the time. I'm alert and feel like I'm absorbing more information. I feel better about myself, I feel like I have enough energy to get through my day. It's just better in general!

SO! Challenge yourself! You probably don't need something as detailed as we have- or maybe you do- but just take a moment and sit back and analyze your life. What are you struggling with? What goals can you set? Try to get a friend or a spouse in on it too, and do it together. Hold yourself accountable to someone else- my mom and I have been texting each other every day to ask if we exercised that day. If I can do it, so can you!

And if you want to know how you can make your own chart on excel, comment or message me or whatever and I'll have Husband Man write out how he did it. I know it wasn't difficult. Same thing if you want to see ours as an example.

(I know what you're thinking. "This isn't what we thought we were going to get! You promised summer photos and stupid song lyrics!"
Yeah, I know. Get over it. Those posts are coming. I was just so excited about this! I'm making my life better!)

Question:

Do I have to choose what I want to be when I grow up?

Some days I just feel like I want to do everything... But there also seems to be a lot of pressure to just pick something already!! Why does the world think that we have to pick only one thing?


The Symphony Orchestra just played a concert including pieces by Alexander Borodin, the "Overture" to Prince Igor, as well as "Polovstian Dances" (which I HIGHLY recommend- it's a fantastic piece, so loud and wonderful with the chorus and the orchestra... Yes!). Our conductor told us that back in Borodin's day, he wasn't even a composer first and foremost. (I think he was a scientist? I'm too lazy to Google it right now- I'm supposed to be studying...) Back in Borodin's day, and even beyond, it wasn't uncommon for people to be just as good at their hobbies as they were at their careers.


So I ask again... Why the pressure from the world to just be one person? My trumpet professor once said, in response to my idea that I want to try everything, "I believe that if you commit yourself to one thing, then you'll grow in everything." I politely disagree. What if I want to play in orchestras with my trumpet, and publish a novel? If I study only my trumpet then I won't get any better at writing. If you want to be good at something, you have to do it.

Besides... I don't want to grow up. That's no fun.

Do I have to choose what I want to be when I grow up?

A Different Kind of Christmas Song

I have always thought that this song was so beautiful. And it brings to light a different aspect of the nativity story that we usually don't think of, and that's the hardships that Mary and Joseph had to go through to bring the Savior into the world. For example, back then, they would have gotten in trouble because Mary was pregnant and they weren't married yet. That's not acceptable like it is today. And while they were traveling to Bethlehem, its very plausible that Mary was already in labor during the journey, and to be unable to find a place to go so she could safely have the baby was a huge heartache for Joseph.


Just a few things to think about while you're celebrating Christmas this year.


Glad! "One Quiet Moment"


(Sorry you have to go to the link to hear it- it's on YouTube. I just haven't figured out the putting movies in the blog post thing yet. I did it once, but that was with Husband Man's help... When I go home this afternoon I'll ask him to teach me again, and edit the post so that you can watch it here.)

Why Women Feel the Need to Carry Handbags

I know, I'm of the female gender. Why on earth am I posting this?


Because I hate carrying a purse or handbag everywhere with me. Yeah, some bags are really cute and all, but I don't like having it with me all the time. When I go shopping, I don't want to have to make sure that my purse is still with me. If I wanted to keep track of something all the time, I'd borrow a toddler or have kids of my own. Not only that, but if I do leave my purse somewhere, chances are it has a good deal of my valuables in it, like cell phones and mp3's, not to mention a wallet that has lots of forms of ID and money. That's not something you want to misplace or have taken from you.


Poking around a little on the fabulous Google, I couldn't really find a history behind carrying a bag- most of the articles I found are men who are baffled by their significant other's obsession with bags. One of them had some pretty good theories: "The bag is a surrogate baby." Heaven knows some bags that women carry are as big or bigger than a baby, and weigh probably more than that. "These large handbags are perfect for swinging and protection." That could make sense, to carry a ginormous bag with you so you can fend off unwanted visitors. "It’s primitive DNA gene." For this one, he goes on to explain, "Women were the hoarders or safe keepers in the caves and that’s why clutching bushel like parcels is hard wired in their brains. The bag replicates that experience – it makes them feel that they are in possession of something very material and hence the comfort of the big wobbly cushiony thing near them."

I can see why a purse would be useful. Sometimes, especially in the summer, I just have a few too many things to carry in my hands. The problem with taking a purse just to carry a few things is that those few things procreate and suddenly you're carrying the kitchen sink, the garden hose, six tubes of chapstick, every cosmetic you own (except for that blush your mom gave you that you hate), and pens that ran out of ink three years ago. (And let's not talk about receipts.) It is true that if you ever needed a bandaid or pain reliever or gum or to sew a button back on your pants after a huge buffet meal, you'll probably have that in your bag.


The mystery behind female fetishes with purses will probably never be explained. I'd be willing to bet that even the women who carry them probably can't explain why they do it. All I know is that you probably won't see me with one until Husband Man and I have kids and all the diapers and Cheerios that come with them.

Facts About Cats

So I was looking at goofy pictures of cats yesterday and I found this picture with random facts about cats. I thought it was pretty cool. And I think it's pretty accurate too. 

I would post more, but I'm supposed to be doing homework so that I'm not stressing about it during our trip to SAN DIEGO CALIFORNIA this weekend!!! Wooohooooo!! So you get a random cat post.

Ok, back to work.


(PS- Please let me know if you can't read this. It's pretty cool. I didn't know some of this stuff.)

Oh, you want a NaNoWriMo word count, too? TOO BAD! Get your own. Bahahaha....

Why Women Feel the Need to Shave Their Legs

I am one of those women who loathes shaving their legs. Or shaving anything. For me, it's an often painful experience if I try to shave both legs all at once. Our apartment's hot water heater can't last that long, apparently, so the end result is painful razorburn and hairy patches where I missed a spot in my rush to get out before the water turned freezing. I've recently learned to shave in halves, so one day I'll shave upper legs, and the next (or later in the day, if I'm feeling ambitious) I'll shave lower legs.


But honestly... who really wants to spend as much time shaving as they do showering? It's so obnoxious! Especially if your leg hair is like mine- thick, dark, and difficult to remove in any other way except a razor. Those DIY wax strips? Didn't do a thing except tear the oil off my skin. (Boy, that was gross.) Nair? Yeah right. I sit in a bathroom smelling like bananas or something for twenty minutes and nothing comes off. There was one hair removal creme I used to use to thin out the hair on my legs so shaving went a little easier, but it wasn't a huge difference. Professional wax? If it worked, who knows how long it would last- plus it costs a bajilliondy dollars or something.

So here's the bigger question- WHY DO WE DO IT??


I'll tell you what caused it: peer pressure. But not just any peer pressure-- peer pressure from men and clothing lines in 1915.


You heard me. Before World War I, the only unsightly hair that women worried about was a little facial hair here and there, and how the hair on their head looked. Then someone from Harper's Bazaar magazine printed this image:

I know, right? Who does that? Next thing women knew, dresses had sheer sleeves or no sleeves at all, and razor companies began putting out razors for women as well as men. It became a huge social thing- if you were popular, if you were in with the times, you shaved your pits so you could dance and swing your arms around and feel free with no armpit hair to weigh you down.


Seriously?


Removing leg hair was a little more difficult to catch on to, partially because they didn't want to give men bad thoughts by drawing attention to their legs, and partially because skirt hems only rose a little in the 20's and then went back to long in the 30's, and as I always thought as an early teenager, 'Why shave when your skirt covers it?' (Plus when I was a teen I had a problem with slicing myself open with the razor. Take a look at the side of your leg where there's a rather large tendon running over the rounded side of your ankle. Take note: that is not a fun place to cut yourself. We're talking at least 3 inch-long cuts.)


However, women succumbed again, ironically to a photo of a gal by the name of Betty Grable, a World War II pinup girl who shamelessly flaunted her flawless legs. Suddenly the idea of not giving men bad thoughts flipped 180 degrees and short shorts and sheer stockings became the next big thing. And if you've ever worn shorts or stockings without shaving your legs, not only is it uncomfortable (with stockings anyways), but it looks rather silly.


So there you have it. Why women shave their legs now. It started out as pressure to shave the pits and turned into the idea that women are supposed to be hairless or something. Don't get me wrong, I like shaved legs. They feel really nice against a good pair of jeans. Still, I can't help but think that a lot of women could save themselves a lot of time if they never knew the difference. Ignorance is bliss sometimes. (And can save you a lot of pain, not to mention the money invested in band-aids and neosporin.) I guess if you ever did want to stop shaving your legs, you could always move to Europe, where the fad of women shaving apparently hasn't caught on yet.

If you want to read the article I found this on, you can go HERE. I found it rather intriquing, and I'm pretty sure it's a legit site. Comment if you know more about the tragedy of women having to shave or if you find a better source if you just feel like posting something.

The Miracle of Service

This last Tuesday Dan and I and a bunch of people from our ward at church got together and drove down to help a widow from another ward. There are a bunch of widows in this particular ward, and they were getting together to help them and invited our ward to come too. We arrived at their church building, where we had a prayer, and then the guy in charge of the widow we were going to help took us aside to explain what we were going to do.


With tears in his eyes, this man told us that this lady's husband had had medical problems for a few years before he passed away, leaving her with three children (who I found out later were something along the lines of 11, 7, and 5). This lady was in her late twenties, perhaps early thirties, and it had been a rough thing for the entire family. He went on to tell us that she had been going back to school and had taken a job to help care for her family, and had accepted very little service. Our original intent was to show up and do a lot of yard work for her (she owns a good chunk of land around the house), and she had said that she didn't need help cleaning the inside...


...until half an hour before we were to show up. At that point she was taking her daughter to the hospital to check on a rash that she had gotten (I think it was hives), and she had called this man, half an hour before we were to be there, and said that we could go inside and help clean her house as well. As he was telling us about this phone call, he had to stop for a moment to make sure he could tell us. It was very touching, and I was pumped to go and help this woman.


We showed up at this adorable little house, and we were a little sexist and the women were sent to clean the inside while the men went outside to do the yardwork. Inside was a disaster- cheerios were all over the floor, the childrens' bedrooms were covered with toys and papers and clothes, the kitchen needed help, and the laundry room looked sad. The other girls attacked things as they got there, and I admit I wanted to go back outside; I'm one who'd rather be painting the fence or shingling a roof than clean! But I ended up in the girl's room, where I organized toys and papers and refolded all of her clothes.


Fifteen minutes into the cleaning, a couple of the girls had gotten two garbage bags and were stuffing all of the dirty clothes in it, including some icky-smelling sheets from the boys' room. They soon left in a car for a laundromat where, they told us later, they did 16 loads of laundry- using double loaders.


The widow (her name is Emily) came home just as the house was starting to look in better shape. I had finished the little girl's room and was waiting for the vacuum so I could clean the cheerios from under the couch and the table. (When the girl came into her room she looked around and called, "Mommy, look! My room is clean!" She sounded shocked, as though she never thought it possible!) The kitchen was just about done, and the boys' room was being attacked with a vengeance. I looked outside (at first to see where Dan was) and saw they were collecting branches on one side of the house, and in the front yard they were scraping off the old, worn paint on the fence and then painting it. It looked so nice! I didn't realise how much a new coat of paint on a simple fence could make it look that much nicer. A guy was mowing the lawn, and another gal (we dubbed her the queen of the weed-eater) spent a good chunk of time knocking down the VERY high weeds in the back.


Near the end of our time there, one of the guys in our ward who was almost an electrician came in and fixed a bunch of things for her, including two light fixtures, a light switch, and an outlet. More dishes were done, dusting, vacuuming, painting; the men were still working on the fence, despite getting eaten by mosquitoes, and the gals who had run off with the laundry still weren't back. I'm sure I don't have a clue about everything else that was going on. We were there for three hours that evening, and by the time we finished we were amazed at the transformation that this house and its yard had undergone. It was absolutely amazing. Emily made sure that we had enough to drink, and that we all had ice cream sandwiches. Another lady from the ward went home and baked cookies for all the workers, and brought them to the house fresh from the oven.


We waited for an extra half hour for the girls with the laundry to come back, standing in the yard in twilight watching bats fly around. Everyone was talking. Emily was showing some people a scrapbook and handing out jars of peach jam to anyone who would take one. We finally went back to our church building for root beer floats, donuts and cookies. We laughed and joked and we were all tired from standing and cleaning. Dan and I went home, showered, and passed out an hour before the time we usually go to bed.

Even just looking back, I'm amazed by how much we were able to get done. Everyone attacked that house ruthlessly, and we left it in wonderful condition. I can't even begin to imagine the impact that must have left on Emily's life, how much of a help it was, if I'm humbled just thinking about it...

It's something that I hope I never, ever forget.

Stop Lounging and Get in the Water!

I had an interesting trumpet lesson today. By the time it was over, my instructor turned to me and told me that he was immensely excited about how much I had progressed this last week. He said the five weeks or so before he hadn't noticed much, but now that I have a deadline he can tell that I'm working harder to play my solo better. He expressed his desire for me to continue, to maybe even change my major back to a performance (BM), so that I would progress as far as I could. This instigated a discussion that lasted a half an hour after my lesson had technically ended, and we talked about what was going on, behaviors of people on and off campus and in the church, and things like that. What it came down to, at least for me, was the dedication and the commitment that he thought seemed to be lacking in me. He told me, (and I'm grateful for him pointing this out), that it seems like while I know I'm talented, I seem to be resting on that talent; that I've figured out that I can procrastinate everything and get away with it with a pretty decent job rather than an exceptional one.


And I have to admit this is true... I probably do rest on my talent more than I should. I can count on one hand the number of times I practiced for the quintet concert that's tonight, and while there are a couple little spots in our music that I know need to be worked out, I haven't done anything about it because I can get away with a good enough job. (And if they ever read this, they'll probably be kind of upset with me... Phooey.) So what my teacher encouraged me to do was to figure out what I'm dedicated to, and fully commit to it. He thought that by being a BA, I was sort of leaving myself too many options, and not making myself commit to any one of those. When I argued that I really do care about all of those things, like music composition and writing and all those things, he simply said that I don't have to remove those options, but rather if I commit to one wholeheartedly, my influence and dealings with the others would increase as well.


Pretty much he verbally smacked me upside the head (in a very polite, 'I really want to see you excel kind of a lot' kind of way) and told me that instead of sitting back and dipping my toes in the pool, I need to get in the water and swim. That doesn't mean diving in the deep end, but I need to get in the water, try it out, and dedicate myself to what I want to do. My teacher brought up the poem 'Invictus', which says "I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul" and he says that there was a general authority who countered that by saying that Christ is the master of your fate and the captain of your soul; my teacher has come to the conclusion that is it through Christ that you become the master of your fate. Because of Christ, we have the ability to choose where we want to go and what we want to do.


So even though I'm not changing back to a BM, I kind of really want to show him that I can be dedicated, and in a way he has opened doors for me as a musician that I never really thought about looking into before. I want to commit to being a professional, regardless of my degree, and I want to learn the things that I know he can teach me.


And the same can go to you! Commit to something! Is it a talent, a goal, a dream? Commit to doing what it is that you need to do to get there. Don't put yourself down and think that you'll never get there because you're supposed to just be a stay-at-home mom or just be the breadwinner of the family. Be all that you can be. Jump in that pool, swim, and enjoy the water!

(Boy, I've gotten philosophical over the last few months...)

Of Sinus Infections and Little Blue Engines

It's a double post day, except not really because you're going to pretend that the last post happened yesterday like I meant it to. This thing they call "school" took up all of my time yesterday- I'm talking 9AM to 9PM straight with about an hour in there cumulative that I wasn't doing anything. So yes. You're pretending.


Anywho- So Monday night, while I'm trying to figure out how to take classes all year except August until Husband graduates, which is a lengthy process and rather tedious, my unusually bad hay fever allergies turned into something nastier equaling extreme pressure in my sinuses + earaches + headaches + body aches + general miserableness. Tuesday I didn't feel any better, and slept between appointments to take care of my classes situation. At one point I googled Mayo Clinic and looked up my symptoms, and it suggested that I had either allergies (this was worse than that), a common cold (again, worse), or acute sinusitis (which, assuming that meant a sinus infection, I deemed correct). I have never had that much pain in my face, ever... Not even when I got a pea stuck up my nose. (Ok, that wasn't very painful. Never mind.)


Tuesday night Husband called his mom, who is a nurse, and asked what to do for his miserable wife who was laying in bed crying. After being drugged up on another type of decongestant and some ibuprofen, I was resurrected and proceeded to eat a whole can of soup and part of Husband's dinner too. Plus an apple turnover from Arby's (because he loves me). So I have been feeling better, except for the waterfall of mucus running down the back of my nose. Moral of the story: Sinus infections are NOT fun. The end.


The inspirational thought for today comes from Shel Silverstein through my trumpet instructor, who informed us that he is addicted to Shel's poetry. The poem of the day is "Little Blue Engine". I shall now "read" it to you hopefully in a similar way that my instructor read it to us.


"Little Blue Engine" -by Shel Silverstein
The little blue engine looked up at the hill.
His light was weak, his whistle shrill.
He was tired and small, and the hill was tall,
And his face blushed red as he softly said,
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."


So he started up with a chug and a strain,
And he puffed and pulled with might and main.
And slowly he climbed, one foot at a time,
And his engine coughed as he whispered soft,
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."

With a squeak and a creak and a toot and a sigh,
With an extra hope and an extra try,
He would not stop - now he neared the top -
And strong and proud he cried out loud,
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!"

He was almost there, when - CRASH! SMASH! BASH!
He slid down and MASHED into ENGINE HASH
On the rocks below... which goes to show
If the track is tough and the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just ain't enough!


He went on to say that he thinks that a major reason why musicians who go to big universities to study music and don't progress are those who stop being insatiably curious about the world and stop trying to learn everything they can, even things they might not exactly agree with or believe in, such as the ideology of other religions. You can't ever go into anything and say, "Self, I think we can do this." You just can't do that in today's society, or YOU WILL FAIL. You MUST believe in yourself, and if things don't work out, never give up.


Now, just to prove that I really am not super philosophical, here is a picture of the irises that are growing beside our front steps. 

They are taking FOREVER to bloom, and they told me the other day that they're taking forever because they know it bugs me. Seriously? Not cool. I'm being made fun of by plants.

Staying Out of Debt

No, the Yockeyites are not in debt. They're just simply trying to stay away from it. Far, far away from it. I'm taking a real-world math class, a required class at my college, which is to say that we're going to learn mind-boggling things such as budgeting. It doesn't seem difficult in principle, until I looked at what we were spending while trying to complete a homework assignment and found expenses on the example that we are not spending, and things in our spending list that we didn't know what to label. I rather imagine that my teacher will scratch his head at our, what, $100 in "Misc. Spending"... when really that's where we put things like organ shoes, concert clothes, a new backpack, and a trumpet mute.


I know what you're thinking... "With all those expenses PLUS the both of you going to college, how on earth are you not in debt already?"


The answer? There are a couple... #1: Hellooooo federal grants. We both were awarded and we both have our tuition covered. #2: A lot of our expenses are covered by loving family members. Such as the clinic bills from when I got pneumonia a week and a half before our wedding. #3: I believe in blessings. There's a reason we're able to not be in debt, especially with being in school... I just don't know what it is yet.


I can still read your mind- "You're a jerk for making me feel poor. Shut up and stop bragging."


I'm not trying to brag! My original point is about staying out of debt, and you interrupted me with your question! So in our church, our church leaders have said that we need to stay as far away from debt as possible, especially in today's society. School loans and debts are excepted, along with a modest home mortgage, and perhaps a small car.


Your mind interrupts me again- "How is this possible?"


Well, they're not going to tell us to stay away from debt if it wasn't possible. In my mind, the answer is clear: Don't purchase things you do not need. Yes, that new sports car is ridiculously awesome but if you can't afford it, then it's not worth it. Yes, those jeans are designer and make your behind look so fabulous you can't sit still, but my $40 jeans will last me at least a year, probably longer. What's that? My jeans aren't as cool as your jeans? That's ok! I don't need the world staring at me to know that I'm a beautiful, confident person. Husband and I live without cable TV and a phone landline. We only go out to eat because we have gift money left over from the wedding. We try to plan ahead for meals. We've already started our food storage- it's meager, but there.


There goes your mind again- "You'll end up in debt eventually."


Yes, we probably will. I can't rule out that possibility without being totally naive. The idea is that if you have to get into debt, get out of it as fast as possible. Cut corners where you can- lay off on purchasing ice cream and accessories until you can pay it off. It will all be worth it in the end. And while we're blessed with having enough money to stay out of debt now, we're trying to save as much as we can for anything that might come up.


Now, if you're in debt or have student loans or something, I'm not bashing you. I'm just spewing thoughts. I certainly don't think I'm an expert on these things- I just think that the idea of not spending a ton of money on things is doable. Think about it...


http://lds.org/ensign/1997/09/understanding-interest-on-debt?lang=eng&query=debt

http://lds.org/ensign/1996/08/escaping-the-debt-trap?lang=eng&query=debt

PS- I'm not trying to convert you to my side of the religion fence. I'm just trying to share the wisdom that is in these articles. My next post won't be quite as heavy... I'm only in this because of math. Blech...