A Christmas Post

In his book The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis refers to it as "the law of undulation". It is the idea that everything about our human nature is cyclical: our relationships, our attitudes, our interests, our spirituality, our convictions. It is an idea that I personally experience on a regular basis and one that I don't particularly enjoy. But enjoy it or not, there are times when I am on. And there are times when I am way off.

• There are times when I keep my house sparkly clean and ordered.
  
  
• There are times when we wade through laundry, crumbs, and chaos.
  
  
• There are times when I feel very pleased with how attractive, funny, and well-liked I am.
  
  
• There are times when I catch my reflection and see nothing but lame.
  
  
• There are times when I am a patient and attentive Mommy, making delicious meals for my family, exercising, and reading books in my spare time.
  
  
• There are times when I am impatient and self-centered, feeding my family leftover pizza for breakfast, scarfing down whatever chocolate I can find in the house, and watching online movie-previews.
  
  
• There are times when I have meaningful prayers, read my scriptures daily, look for ways to serve others, and feel humble and happy.
  
• There are times when I choose to focus on other things, worry too much about what other people might think of me, question my life choices, and let my pride get in the way of my testimony.

For better or worse we can never seem to stand still. These past few months I've been on the downswing; my faith taking it full in the face.

Sunday I received a text from my church's Young Women's President. I am the Beehive advisor in my ward, meaning I am a leader over the twelve and thirteen year old girls. In light of the upcoming holiday, the president asked all of us (girls included) to bring something from home that symbolised our testimonies. I thought about this. I considered a picture I have hanging in my family room of Christ praying. I considered bringing a picture of my family. I considered bringing my scriptures or a hymn book. But then while I was getting ready for church, looking through my jewelry box I found it: a locket my mom gave me when I was six or seven years old. Inscribed on the front of it is "I am a Child of God." I put it on and went to church.

And out of all the symbols I could have chosen that one statement best represents my feelings. Because there are times when I am good and there are times when I'm not. But one thing remains constant: I am a child of God. And regardless of whether I keep a clean house, or feel good about myself, am always a good mother, or read my scriptures daily, His perfect parental love for me doesn't change- only my ability to feel it. And I know He is always there.

Psalms 46:10 "Be Still and know that I am God."

Merry Christmas.

Dude.

Meet my long lost shantily-clad, coffee-drinking twin.

The Diana of an alternate universe.

I wonder if she listens to Muse?

I wonder if she likes writing young adult fiction?

Or if she's into british comedy and zombies?

Somewhere out there is another me walking around.

And she has awesome hair.

The Great Cough Syrup Fiasco 2009

Chances are whoever coined the phrase "if its not one thing, its another" was a real unpopular guy. Brutally honest people often are. At least that's what I tell myself on lonely afternoons. And though its disappointing, it is a fact. And though "if its not one thing, its another" is equally disappointing, it is also a fact.

November did not go down smoothly. Maybe if you cross your fingers I'll fill you in on the details later. As for now, it suffices to say I have slept through the night maybe a handful of times since October and its starting to show. I would generally describe myself as good-natured, a little crazy, but harmless. November kind of killed the whole "good-natured" bit. And the past few weeks have knocked the "harmless" right off the end there. Which leaves us with "a little crazy."OK, make that a LOT crazy.

This is December in Utah, so everyone we know is sick including our children. Sick doesn't really mean anything unless it starts getting serious and that is where our story begins. Wednesday night Avery's cold took a turn for the worse. She had a fever, and her breathing was so labored she couldn't lie down to sleep. The cold medicine seemed to have no effect. The Tylenol helped the fever, but her croup was so nasty Andy and I felt we couldn't leave her alone. I sat with her in a steamy bathroom for a while, Andy gave her a blessing. Finally around two in the morning Andy went out into the snow to buy a new humidifier. We propped her up between us, and slept for about three hours before she woke up coughing and couldn't go back to sleep.

Thursday morning I made her a doctor's appointment. It was a busy day with Brooklyn's "Unusual Pet Show" at school, home-teacher visits, and daily necessities. And by the time we finished our Subway sandwiches I was very sleepy and ready to put the girl's down for the night. But first we had to give Avery her prescription cough syrup...

Dun-Dun-DUN!

Mkay, so I'm assuming you're all familiar with Avery and her notorious red-bummery? Even in the throws of illness she holds the prestigious title as the stubbornest child to ever walk the earth in a black tutu. We started off with exactly six teaspoons of cough syrup. She was supposed to take two the first night. Are you ready?

Though a huge fan of purple medicine Avery hated the red medicine. She spit out the first teaspoon onto her jammies. 6-1=5 teaspoons left.

When fifteen minutes of polite coercion yielded no results, we resorted to a Sortor ritual Andy and I refer to as "Moram". If you recall, there is a scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, where Indiana is forced to drink blood by the evil head-dressed villain, Moram. There is some chanting and a lot of struggling but in the end Indiana succumbs and in so doing becomes a compulsory member of the thugi cult. Awesome movie. And as it turns out, a super-fun and effective way to force our children to take their medicine. Well, fun for us anyway, the chanting at least. Really it just helps us to not lose our tempers. Anywho, we got two teaspoons down her and were ready to send her to brush her teeth when she says, "I'm gonna puke!" And she did. 5-2=3tsp.

While I cleaned up, Andy tried a different, less thugi-cultish, sneakier approach. He made a delicious strawberry smoothie spiked with the disgusting red cough syrup. Then offered it to Avery.

"I saw Daddy put medicine in it." Brooklyn warned. Five minutes later Brooklyn was crying in her room and Avery was refusing to drink her smoothie. We reasoned with her. We pleaded with her. I bribed her with new dress-ups, toys, and treats. She replied, "I don't want any treats and I already have toys." We cut our losses and put the smoothie in the refrigerator. 3-2=1tsp.

But the evil-genius Andy had one more trick up his sleeve. He poured the last teaspoon of precious cough syrup into the Tylenol cup. "Alright sweetie, how about some different medicine?" Reluctantly she agreed. You can hardly imagine my relief as she willingly tipped back the little cup and drank. "See it's not so bad!" Said Andy seconds before snatching her up over the sink where she vomited all of it. 1-1=O tsp.

Out came the smoothie. Out came the big guns: I threatened to take away her beloved blanket unless she drank her smoothie pronto. But I think my heart broke as she sobbed, "Mommy if I make my bed tomorrow can I have it back?"

"You're not in trouble honey, you just have to drink your smoothie so you can get better." "Please let me go to sleep! I just want to go to sleep!" And she cuddled up in my arms, with her eyes closed, genuinely exhausted from the night before.

"No Avery, you can't go to sleep! You have to drink your smoothie!" As a parent I'm often surprised at the things that come out of my mouth. But despite my desperation, fall asleep Avery did. Won Avery did.

Cry I did.

Chances are whoever coined the phrase, "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" was a real unpopular guy. Because who likes to be reminded that he will have to suffer through unpleasant, even excruciating circumstances time and time again simultaneously turning them into learning experiences? If its not one thing, its another that doesn't kill you but makes you stronger can I choose "pass"?

Thankfully The Great Cough Syrup Fiasco '09 didn't kill us. True, that was a lot of puke. True, I am that much closer to biting a stranger in line at the grocery store over laundry detergent. But Avery's immunities are now stronger so...

Dun-Dun-DUN!