Recycling

Yesterday, Richard and Audrey were cleaning up and Richard found one of his cars in Audrey's room. However, Marie and Peter were already asleep and Richard shares a room with those two. So, we didn't want him to go in to put the car away. Scott kept telling him to put it outside his door and we'd worry about it later. Richard kept insisting he go in to put it away.
Scott finally said, "Richard, if you don't put it by your door, I'm going to throw it in the garbage can!"
Richard's response was, "But it's made of plastic!"
Scott said, "Well, then I'll put it in the recycle bin."
Guess I've taught him well.

Mail, it was called mail

If you knew me at all during the last ten years of my life, you'll know that Scott and I wrote letters to each other for over two years while he was on his mission. (On that note, never say you'll never do something. I thought it was the dumbest idea to write a missionary. I did it. Never say never.) I loved getting letters. I ran to the mailbox every day in hopes that I might have a letter from him. I loved the things we would talk about in letters, because obviously communication is much different via written form than verbal form. I told him about school, being a Relief Society president, nursing clinicals, and my family. He told me about preaching the gospel, sweltering heat, mosquitos, and less than sanity conditions.

I have been thinking about the lost art of keeping in touch with people. I read a lot of blogs. I read people's status updates on facebook. Do people know I read about their lives and care about how they are doing? Not likely. I don't often comment, because I don't feel I have anything worthwhile to say. So, I read about them. I confess I have a very if-you-don't-talk-to-me-than-I-won't-talk-to-you attitude. If someone comments to me, I make an effort to comment to them. If you don't, than I don't. I am trying to be better. I try to comment or at least "like" what people say on facebook. Who reads my blog? I know where they come from, but I don't know who reads about us. Scott and I were thousands of miles apart and yet somehow managed to keep in contact. Yet, I haven't been very successful at keeping in touch with people from the past that I thought I was close to.

I have one dear friend that I actually have kept in touch with. She moved away a couple of years ago. We wrote e-mails for a while until I couldn't type because I was nursing two babies 75% of my awake time. Now, we talk on the phone. Everyone else has drifted into non-contact-keeping-in-touch. I lament the loss of the real friendships.

So, in this season of celebrating Christ and his love, let us reach out to others. I challenge you to actually write (via real mail or e-mail or commenting on a blog or SOMETHING) to a friend. Let's actually communicate instead of just reading about each other. Now, I'm not just fishing for comments. I'm not that emotionally insecure that I want to beg for comments. I was just thinking about how little I actually communicate with people and think we could all do better.

Nothing

Sorry. We've got nothing to talk about at our house. Life is about the same.

I was reading an article in a magazine that I've already decided is not worth my time. It's a good thing it was free or I would have felt I really wasted my money. The article was about a woman who had twins (I think those were her only children) and how when she was pregnant, she was appalled to find out a friend of hers who had twins had a favorite. The point of the article is that after she had twins she realized she had a favorite and that it was just the way it is. She talked about how "this is my baby and that one is my husbands."

What?!! OK, I can see how you might like one child better one day but to love one better overall? Can that be healthy to a parent/child relationship? What happened to the idea of "love you equally but differently?" Perhaps I am naive, but I do my best to spend time with each of my children. I make it a goal to work on keeping/developing a strong, loving relationship with each of them.

Some things I'm thankful for

Here I sit in the wee hours of the morning listening to the mild dinging of the cardiac monitors next to where I sit. My profession causes me to sit back and think on things at times. Partly that is because I'm up at odd hours of the morning and I begin to think.

I am working on a project that involves reading my journal. So, on to things I am thankful for.

1. I am SO glad it's November 2009 and not November 2008. What a hard time of life that was. I would not have survived that without the willingness of so many to serve me.

2. I am grateful to have my mother. A friend from my single days at college just lost his mother to an aggressive form of cancer. What a difficult experience! My heart aches for him. So, on that note, I am so grateful for the knowledge that I can be with my family forever.

3. I am grateful for health. It would be so overwhelming to see a family member in the position my patients are in.

My beautiful grandma

We had a surprise birthday party for my grandma. She is now 92 years old and doing great! She lives in an assisted living center but is still relatively healthy. I am so glad my children have the opportunity to get to know her a little bit.

She's the one looking at the camera. She's sitting with her sister.

Happy Halloween!

Here are the kids in their costumes. Marie is a monster. Audrey is a fairy princess. Richard is a pirate. Peter is a monster. I'm a mean mom and only brought the kids to the trunk-or-treat. I figure it's easier and we get enough candy (as far as I'm concerned). However, once we got home, Richard asked, "Mom, why do other kids go to people's houses? How come I don't get to go to other people's houses?" Alas, I guess next year I'll have to at least bring Richard and Audrey, because I know Audrey won't let me bring just Richard. My days of laziness are over.

Marie and Peter just hung out in the stroller at the trunk-or-treat. They don't need candy (meaning I don't need the candy) and don't know the difference. I made sure we had left-over M&Ms for them. Marie loved them. Peter didn't. As I learned from his birthday, he doesn't care much for sweets.