Last Post

Do you have a "last post" somewhere in your draft file?

(What am I saying? You people don't even have draft files!)

Over the past couple of weeks I've happened across 3 different "last posts" from bloggers who have died, and someone posted their previously written "last post" for them on their blog. They're sad, but incredibly interesting.

So I decided it wasn't a bad idea, and I started working on my "last post". You know, in case I die soon --the most likely cause this week being sugar overload from graduation cakes. (Why does every event have to be celebrated with food? And why do I feel like I have to eat it? And when's the salad holiday???)


Let's just hope I don't die anytime soon, because so far my last post is pretty lame.
Even lamer than this one.

And I think we can all agree that that would be a horrible way to remember me.

The Gadianton Bunnies

The bunnies are back.

Apparently, the foxes have not multiplied around here like they usually do, and the bunnies are overtaking the neighborhood in even bigger numbers than last year.

It sounds like it should be cute, right? It's not. It's just really not. Oh, the bunny-poo stories I could tell you. But I won't.

Last year, the bunnies ate all the new little shoots that were coming up in my front yard flower garden. So this year I read on some "green" (don't even get me started) website out there that chili powder would make them stop eating my plants. I bought the Costco size, and liberally sprinkled it all over the front yard.

Apparently some little green shoots go better with chili powder than others, or maybe some things are just worth burning your little bunny tongue over. I mean, it might have cut the amount of things they were eating by about half, but I got the feeling they were waiting for me to bring out something else. A little oregano, perhaps?

This year, the bunnies have found a hole in the fence, and have taken up residence in the backyard as well. They've found a little place under the deck where they can both torment the dog, and bring back their delicious chili seasoned treasures to save for later.

Sorta reminds me of a passage I read in the Book Of Mormon today:

And these Gadianton robbers, who were among the Lamanites, did infest the land, insomuch that the inhabitants thereof began to hide up their treasures in the earth

Which just tells you again, that the scriptures can be likened to our lives in all things. Even bunny infestations.

Oh Good! A Morbid Post Just In Time for Halloween

With some recent occurrences around the internets reminding me how fragile and unpredictable life is, I've been thinking.

(I know, it's dangerous!)

What would really happen if I died?

Oh, I'm not going all emotional on you right now. I'm thinking along the lines of practical. Because let's face it. When someone dies - in my limited experience- generally family members descend upon that person's house. Someone would definitely be staying in my spare bedroom, and probably someone in the basement, too. Which wouldn't really bother me if I had plenty of time to prepare, but since I'll be dead, that probably won't happen. And I'm guessing that since it's hard enough to get my kids to actually clean while I'm right here "reminding" them, it's not too likely they'll think to do all that on their own.

Would it permanently damage everyone in the house, if I tape a sealed envelope to the fridge labeled "In Case I Die"?

I mean, I'd just like to make a little checklist of cleaning to be done, food that would be good to have on hand, and I'd really like it if they could arrive at the funeral in a clean car.

Oh, you thought that envelope was going to contain instructions for a funeral, or a list of things I'd like to bequeath to my children? Silly you. All that stuff will get done. I'm not worried about that. It's the stuff that won't get done if I'm not standing here that I'm worried about. And you know I'm right, too.

Don't you think it's kind of a slap in the face to have a big family dinner at my house when I clearly won't be able to pick up all the clutter that continually piles up in my kitchen area and toss it into the laundry room and/or shove it into the dishwasher?

I mean, not that it should matter. But it does to me.

I just want to be remembered for who I am, not for the fact that someone last night used all the dishtowels and shoved them back in the drawer while they were still wet instead of hanging them up, that's all.

Magic Women

The other day I asked our ward clerk for a list of women in our congregation that are over the age of 50. I’m contemplating setting up a secret grandmother program between the young women and some of the older women, and I wanted to know who exactly we are working with.

In reading through the list, truthfully, I was a little shocked to see some of the women who were there, and where they fell in the age order. It made me realize again, that after you are a certain age, it just becomes a number, and has almost nothing to do with how you look or act.

There are women that I would have guessed much older, and women that I would never have guessed would be on a list of “old people”, except maybe to look at the ages of their kids.

I wonder what it is that makes people so much younger in spirit?

I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately, keeping in mind that in only a few short years, my name will work its way to the bottom of that list. I’ve been watching, and analyzing – so grateful to have examples of friends of all kinds to help me know who I want to be when I hit that magical time. I don’t want to be a grouchy old woman, who is difficult to get along with. I want to be one of those magical older women, who always has a sparkle in her eye, and remembers to ask you how your daughter’s ballet recital went.

As far as I can tell, it takes some time to create that magical person. It’s not like you just decide one day to be the kind of person who is always happy, or who has interesting experiences to share. It’s something you work on, practice, and build for years before you’re really good at it.

One thing that all Magical Women have in common is that They Don’t Complain. Not about their health, their husbands, or even the weather. They find something nice or exciting to say about anything. I don’t know if it comes from the wisdom of knowing that complaining and whining doesn’t really change anything, or if they’ve just figured out that nobody wants to hear it. Seriously – nobody wants to hear it.

Add to that the fact that Magical Women are Interesting. These are women who have not let their whole being become encompassed by motherhood, or any one thing that might define them. They have experiences to talk about, because it’s important to them to experience life. They learn languages, try new restaurants, preach the gospel, run marathons, travel the world, and volunteer at the hospital, the temple, and the school. They have interesting stories to tell from their lives, and the stories are new and fresh, not the same stories over and over, because they know that experiencing life means there’s always something new and fresh.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that they’re Willing To Share. They share their recipes, their homes, and their hearts. They only share advice when they are asked. (That one is HUGE by the way!)

I’m not trying to criticize anyone. I know that everyone has different life experiences, and sees thing in their own way. I’m just trying to figure out who I want to be.

I kinda think it’s not as much about who you are right now, as it is about who you choose to create.

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

Which is the better compliment?

"Those pants look great on you!"

or

" You sure look great in those pants!"

Soccer Trophies – Good or Evil?

I have no idea where this little rant came from. I just woke up today thinking about helping our children and especially our teens develop REAL self worth.

I’m a fan of youth sports. I think they’re good exercise, teach kids about teamwork, working hard, and sportsmanship. Love it.

What I am NOT a fan of, is the big trophy ceremony at the end. When did we stop telling our children that sometimes being average is OK? Now, as the trophies indicate – everyone has to be The Best. The pendulum went from “Children shall be seen and not heard” all the way to “Look at you! You’re the BEST at everything!"

(And somewhere along the line, the trophy itself lost a whole bunch of status - going from a symbol of being the very best, to basically a symbol of showing up.)

Do you think we do our kids any favors by telling them they’re good at everything? In the end, they know – THEY KNOW—that they are not good at everything. If you exclaim “Wonderful! Wonderful!” over everything the same way, that translates to “exceptional at nothing.”

I once attended a T-ball game where the 6 year old at bat swung so hard he spun himself in a circle and hit himself in the head. As his coach dusted him off and wiped away a few tears, his parents were screaming from the sidelines -“You did GREAT! Great swing! You’re amazing!”

Really?

I mean, not “You’re trying really hard!”, or something credible.

A) The kid KNOWS he is NOT AMAZING right now.

and

B) What kind of pressure is that for a 6 year old? From where I sat, that was not encouraging, that was just pressure.

What ever happened to REAL self esteem? You know the kind I mean. The kind you feel when you finally learn to do something that is difficult for you. Like the first time you tied your shoes by yourself. Or when you discovered something that you really did have talent for . Or when you memorized the pre-amble to the Constitution. Or even when your mom said, “Yes, after the fourth try, this bathroom really is clean.”

I just kinda think the world will be a better place when we actually help our children learn that there is a standard for clean, that some kids are better at sports, and working hard at something will make you better at it.

Let’s skip the shelves full of Everyone-Is-Great trophies and the empty praise, and help them find something they really are good at and enjoy doing. Praise them when they ARE good at something so it’s meaningful and believable. THAT is when our children will find their self-esteem.

And then they will tell THEMSELVES that they are amazing.