Our Little House Guest

We have had some house guests with us, the past couple of days. Dani and her seven year old daughter, Anita. Anita is quite the little girl. It has been really differnt seeing our day to day life through the eyes of a seven year old. Suddenly reading a Jane Austen book all day is considered boring. Wierd.

She watched me look at the differnet blogs i go to and wanted me to post about her. Well right now see lost interest in the blog and is rockin' out with Deborah's camera. Shhh. Don't tell Deborah.


This is when Anita and I went to the mall on friday night. She loved trying on tons of new outfits, even though I was very clear on my poverty status.

She is currently suffering from a cold. She has had it for adout four days now. I think she might be going a little cazy being shut up in the house for a couple days. Get well soon Anita!

My Comfort Items

For the past week or so, I have been thinking about comfort items. I have been watching Deborah helping a friend with some problems. Our friend has been in serious need of comfort, Deborah has been in needed comfort, actually everyone involved needs some comfort.

That is why I'm so glad Heavenly Father helps us out. He not only gave us The Comforter, which does more for us then I can say, but he also put things, and people in our life who can make us feel better. I've come up with my list of comfort objects and thought I would share.

First is Big Bear. I got him when I was like three, and he has held the honorary spot on my bed every day since then. Actually for along time I proffered using him for my pillow, instead of the fluffy one, that mom provided. I've noticed that when I'm stressed or sad I fall asleep holding him tight to me. Any way I'm so thankful for my stuffed animal that I can squeeze until all my worries are gone.

Second is my family, but especially my mom and dad. There are a whole lot of different personalities in my family. I think this is perfect, because there is usually someone who can say the right thing to make me feel better. Mom is really good at making me feel better because she knows me really well. She can make me laugh at what ever situation I'm in. Dad makes me feel better because he has so much wisdom. He is such a strong priesthood leader in our home. He makes me feel better in another way too. Only the reason really makes my vanity feel better. Dad thinks I'm really funny. I mean HI-larious! I like it when people think I'm funny. I mean the world might be coming to an end, but hey it can't be too bad cause someone thinks I'm funny. It's all good to me.

Before I talk about my third comfort source I would just like to say I wanted to write about them first, but Deborah posted before me. My third source of comfort is an amazing family in our ward. They are some of the best people in our ward. Their six boy are so cute and so much fun that I just love being around them. I'm never sure what their dad is going to say to me, but once he finishes teasing me, or sometimes in between the teasing, he gives me something really nice to think about. Finally their mom. She really in an angel on earth. Its as simple as that. An angel.

About a week or so ago, I went over to there house for dinner and a little comfort. Their mom had explained to the three year old that I was sad and hurt in my heart. After dinner he came to me and asked where my boo-boo was. He wanted to kiss it to make it better. What he didn't know was that walking into his house had made it feel better already.

See, I Do Exist!

This week I have really felt like my identity was being threatened. I don't mean a "Who am I?" identity crisis. Rather I found I had less and less documentation that I was born.

It all started with my wallet. One day I realized that I didn't know where my wallet was. I wasn't to worried because it would surface sometime and I also am really good at finding thing, I am second only mom. Some siblings may disagree, but it's true. Anyway I wasn't worried about my wallet.

Well Sunday I was sitting at a fireside and suddenly I got very worried. It had been a week. Well that started the frantic searches all through the house and in all the cars. Mom couldn't even find it and that really convinced me that I had a problem.

I even dreamed about finding my wallet. I dream about looking for it, and in almost every I found it and woke up thrilled. Then I had to remind myself that no, it was only a dream. Once I actually got up in the middle of the night to look in the place I had dreamed about.

I gave up. It was as simple as that. So I started the process of replacing the things in my wallet. First, my licence. I had to bring my social security card and my birth certificate to the MVA. Mom and I spent two hours looking for them. I found most of my report cards from high school, but no birth certificate. I really was a very good student.

I was so frustrated. I had nothing official that said I existed. Eldon and Deborah use to tell me that I was really from Mars, and was dropped at their door step. I was starting to believe it.

While I was deep in the depth of despair, dad found my birth certificate and social security card. Hallelujah!! Perfect timing, because mom told me that she was going to start taking my pictures down. Like I was really disappearing.

Well now I am fully documented and I do indeed exist. That's a relief.

My Seven Quirks

I have many more quirks than just seven, but lets just start here.

1. I am afraid to go to the bank. I don't know why I'm afraid to go, but the thought of walking into that building gives me a knot in my stomach. I've kept checks for several months, because I don't want to go to the bank. The funny thing is, when I was eight I wanted to be a bank teller. Then when I was around ten, I realized I was terrified of banks.

2. I love to save money. This might stem from the whole bank thing, but I love to have wads of money. If I were an old lady I would be the one with her life savings under her mattress. it makes me happy to have money, and when I buy things I always have a bit of a battle in my mind. I have to ask myself if its worth breaking a twenty. Most of the time, it isn't.

3. My brother can tickle me from across the room. I am very very ticklish, and I grew up having to deal with countless tickling torture sessions. As a result when Eldon, or any of my older siblings wiggle their fingers at me I shriek and run from the room. If they come up and actually tickle me I scream, fall to the floor r and curl up in the fetal position. I feel bad when a friend touched my stomach, and I shriek. Just know, It is not your fault.

4. I'm afraid to go up the stairs in the dark. I can go up when its light, and I can go down the stairs in the dark. It's just down the stairs in the dark. When I get about half way up I think someone is coming after me. Then I run up the stairs and rush into a bright area.

5. I am a very picky eater. Since I was very little I have been very picky. I go through phases where something is just detestable. I only recently started liking cheese again. I have two foods that that I just hate. Eggs and Lasagna. Gross. Gross. Uck! Only I cant really say why I don't like eggs or lasagna. I don't like them. Please don't offer me them. I will say it isn't easy being a member and hating lasagna. I only eat bread at church dinners.

6. I like to sleep with my door open. I actually like to keep my door open all the time. When my door is closed I feel like I'm in a box. I like things open.

7. I lie to have different and fun birthday candles. I like candles that are more than just regular multicolored candles. For my sixteenth birthday my candles were roses. I had a beautiful bouquet of roses on my cake. For my eighteenth birthday I had butterflies on my candles. It was a fairy garden cake. Its just something I've always done, and always loved.

I Finally Saved A Life.

When I was 15 the Young Women put me in charge of the blood drive they were holding at my church. Since I was too young to actually give blood, I sat and signed people in, while I looking at the Red Cross posters saying, "You can save a life." I decided I wanted to save a life. I could be life superman, but instead of all the battle, and destruction, I could sit in a chair sipping Orange juice. I wonder why superman never thought of that.

Well I have tried to give blood. After I turned sixteen I signed up for both of the blood drives held at my school. Neither of them ended well. The first blood drive wouldn't let me donate, because mom had not dated her signature. DATED! Such a technicality. I asked if I could just leave the room, dated it and them come back to give blood. They were not for it.

The second blood drive I actually got into the chair, and I got stuck with the needle. Unfortunatly my blood did not seem to want to flow. I watched three people donate and leave the chair next to me, while I sat there with my pretzels and half filled bag of blood. Finally the nurse gave up and took the needle out. Apparently my blood had clotted in the needle. I suggested cleaning the needle then sticking it back in there, but they wouldn't go for it.

The third time I went, I actually went to Red Cross Center. I was determined. The third time is the charm, right? Wrong. They couldn't even find my vain!. At one point I had three people surrounding me. They were staring at my arm and telling me to squeeze the ball tighter. I felt like medical mystery. They told me I wasn't drinking enough water and sent me home.

As I prepared to try again on Thursday, I didn't believe it would work, but I brought all my information, and drank a lot of water. Well to make a medium sized story short. I finally gave blood. Yeah. I felt like everybody was rooting for me to. I got tons of thumbs ups and "Good job, Sweetie." They even laughed at my jokes. It didn't take long for me to decide that I liked these people.

Of course then I had to deal with the side effects of giving blood. I almost fainted when I ran up the stairs that night. Oh well, I guess not even Superman can save a life without a couple annoyances.

I Feel Like I'm Missing Something. Oh, It's the Baby.

Yesterday was my last day as Alex's nanny. I'm still on call as a babysitter for when he gets sick at daycare, but I will no longer see him everyday. I think I'm still trying to get use to that fact. It feels so natural to be at home, but on the other hand I have this nagging feeling. There is something missing.

Today I have spent to entire day watching TV. I haven't gotten out of my pajamas, or brushed my hair. Don't judge me. Everyone does it.

Anyway, around 2 pm I thought maybe I would see about lunch. Then I realized that if I were in Virginia, Alex would be just waking up from his nap. We would have already been to the library, had lunch, and, since its Thursday, we would be getting ready to go on a "Field Trip." After I had that thought, I looked around me and thought, "Weird."

I think I will definitely miss somethings about being a nanny to that family. Alex is just starting to talk. I'll miss taking walks with him. I'll miss feeling like i have responsibilities. I'll definitely miss having a beautiful and fulfilling paycheck every Friday morning.

On the other hand I won't miss feeling pressured to potty train a boy who isn't even one year old. I won't miss only having roughly two hours of down time a day, and I won't miss walking into the apartment in the morning and seeing the kitchen, I had cleaned, be even messier than before. I'm bitter. I can't deny it.

I had a lot of fun as a nanny. It was a really good experience. Maybe someday I'll write a book about it. Probably not.

When Taking the Metro, It is Best To Bring A Baby.

I took Alex to a Smithsonian last Thursday. While trying to find a seat in an already crowded metro car, a thought came to me. People treat you differently when you have a baby. I say this because as I walked into the crowded car three different men, saw me with Alex, and then offered me their seat. I accepted their offers.

As we take our morning and afternoon walks, I mentally prepare myself for all of the greetings I am sure to have. If I were walking by myself and pasted someone on the street, there would be a quick glance followed by a mumbled greeting. When I am walking with Alex, a person looks at Alex, and then smiles. Finally they look at me with a full clear greeting that I am obliged to answer. They either go back to Alex, or ask me questions about Alex.

I once thought it was amazing that mothers knew exactly how old their baby were. Now I understand. It can be exhausting, but I am not complaining. Their are definite advantages to having a baby on your hip, besides the previously mentioned metro seat.

People are more accepting of your stupid mistakes, or if you don't know how to do something. Its like they think to themselves, "Oh, that's okay. She has a baby, and that can be hard. We'll excuse her this once." Maybe it is just the cuteness of Alex that distracts them from my imperfections.

Whatever it is, I'm grateful for it. I'm not ashamed to tell you that I took Alex to the bank. It wasn't because it was a convenient time; no, I was using him as a shield. Let me tell you, it worked. That banking trip was short and painless. I'm planning on using him again.

I'll leave you with another metro thought. When I was trying to get on to a car, but was in the back of the huge cluster of people waiting to get on, I was frustrated because I thought I'd have to wait for the next train. Suddenly the crowds parted simply to let me on. I knew then why the Red Seas parted for the Israelites. It wasn't because Moses commanded it. It was because the Red Sea saw that there were some mothers with babies that needed to get through, and thought it would oblige them. Moses just came along for the ride.