Wanna play?

Despite having an abundance of friends, Brooklyn was SOL today when trying to rope in a playmate. It did not help that every last sibling struck gold and was in their own little world with their very own friend. This only added salt to the wound.

There was weeping, there was wailing, there was gnashing of teeth.

What ever is a mom to do?

Not sure, but I'll tell you what NOT to do. Don't offer to be the friend she didn't have. Don't offer to play dolls with her, or doggies with her.
Don't tell her that you will be the momma dog and that your name will be Baxter and she can be the baby dog.
She will only howl louder and tell you all the reasons why that. won't. work!
including that you are too old and may get hurt.



You won't want to hear that.

You may, however, get lucky if you invite her on a mommy, daughter date to get the weekly groceries.

Exceeded my expectations

I cannot even begin to describe the wonderful feelings that I had in the temple tonight. Aside from my wedding day, this was undeniably the best experience in the temple of my life. My husband was there, two of my children were there and without a doubt a host of others who came before us were there. We were there to do something for them that they could no longer do for themselves.

Back in October when Rob's parents gave us permission to move forward with the temple work for their parents, siblings and family, we knew it was going to be a special experience. And it has been. I have lost count of the names that have been submitted. Well over 500+. I have been taking my kids to do baptisms and our ward has stepped in to help with a lot of it as well. But I have been holding onto some names that are near and dear to us. There were 3 of Rob's grandparents and their parents and their parents, some aunts and uncles, etc. We set a date and asked the kids what temple they wanted to go to, suggesting many close to us that they had never been to, but they insisted the Manti Temple, the same one they go to with the youth in our ward. So I made the appointment on Tuesday for tonight. As with any other time something great is set to happen, the adversary tried his hardest to stop it. There were a few fleeting moments today when I was about to throw my hands in the air and declare surrender. But thank goodness I didn't, for once I set my mind to it and we were on our way, it proved to be an unforgettable night.

When we walked into the babtistry, there was another ward on their way out. And then there was just us. It was so quiet and peaceful. The temple workers we so kind and helpful. It was all about us. They kept asking us how we wanted to do each thing, insisting that they were there to serve us. Rob was so nervous because never in his whole life had he been to do baptisms for the dead and he was expected to do them all. And he did a wonderful job. I kept watching him as he did each name. He kept choking up and often had to compose himself as he spoke each name. I watched Jordan and I watched Brandon. How lucky they each were to stand in the place of these fine people, these people who I knew were there. And then I wondered, do these people know how lucky they are that Jordan and Brandon have kept themselves worthy to stand in their place and do this work for them. And I knew that they did know. These wonderful family members will forever reverence their names. They will forever be their guardian angels.

As we walked away from the temple tonight, we knew that we had just experienced a night never to forget. We knew that this temple and this night would forever hold a special place in our hearts.

Practice makes perfect.

I used to make a pretty mean chocolate chip cookie. The kids loved them and Rob loved them. I loved that they loved them. Nothing is better than to please your family with fine food. When we had a hankering for something good, I would whip up a batch.

And then I got lazy.
Or I had to work too much and it got cut from my list of priorities.
The kids would ask
and Rob would ask
and I would say "not right now."
Then a marvelous thing started to happen. Jordan got desperate and she opened the cookbook and started cooking. She made cookies, and not just chocolate chip cookies either. She made brownies and cake and just about anything else we had ingredients for. She got really good at it and I sat back and relaxed.
Ahhhh.
I even let her enjoy all the compliments, for I knew the fulfillment that comes with satisfied customers.

Well it had been awhile and I was missing the praise and adoration that came with a batch of cookies the old feelings of "mommy in the kitchen whipping up a batch of cookies for the fam" started to kick in.
Yesterday, as I prepared my cooking area, the kid's surprise and excitement spurred me on. I pulled out my old recipe for my cookies and realized I did not have shortening.
Bummer.
I couldn't even remember the last time I had shortening. No wonder we didn't see these cookies being produced. Jordan worked with what she had.

Nevertheless, I needed to bake. Butter, as tricky as it is, would have to do.
Or not.
I pulled batch after batch of cookies from the oven that Flat Stanley would be proud of. While the family devoured them, I could not shake off my disappointment.
The admiration was absent.
The pity was there.
I had failed.
I should leave cooking to the teenager.

A spark of hope came and was dashed just as quickly with this one comment.

Brandon: Mom, you should make cookies more often. You used to make them so good. Now you haven't made them in so long you have forgotten how.

He was so brutally, though innocently honest.

I am going to the store today to get shortening.