Scripture Study, Round 2

As I washed dishes tonight, Gavin was busily emptying a toy shopping basket. As soon as it was empty, he turned to me and said,

"This basket is desolate."

You know, because desolate means empty (as in, "the land of such-and-such shall be laid desolate" in a loose quote from Isaiah).

Any questions?

Review

We recently visited my family in Sparks for an extended (but never long enough) stay. We laughed, we cried, we baked, we enjoyed the changing colors and the cool weather; we ate lovely goodies at Apple Hill, and we reconnected with our family members - grandparents and great-grandparents included. In short, the trip was simply lovely, all the way around (except for when I lost my aunt's dog...more on that later). Following are just some of the photos we took. Thanks SO much, Dad and Mom (and all of my family!), for a wonderful time. We'll see you soon!

Great-grandma Adlish

Marissa's baby shower (it's not my gift that she's overjoyed about, however)

Bowling for the first time!

At Oxbow park

(Sometimes I have to insert myself in photos just to prove I was actually there.)

See Gavin? It's so fun to go down the slide at Grandpa and Grandma Great's pool! You want to try?

Please note look of terror and flailing limbs. And yet, he did it one more time!

Averi with Grandpa and Grandma Great

Auntie Lisa

The Ferris wheel at Scheels

Apple Hill

It is such a blessing to have parents who are still married and still in love!

If I only posted photos in which I looked fantastic, no one would ever see me. This was the best we could get after a long day!

This photo, however, is one of my all-time favorites. I can't believe the kids are both smiling!

Mugging for Daddy in the car

Cookie decorating time!

Finally, Averi let someone else feed her! She wasn't letting anyone but me feed her for days - including her dad.

Ladder ball. Casey is the all-time champion. My dad's bowling win must have turned on the competitive juices!

Auntie Marissa, Averi, and No-Name Davis (only two and a half more months until we meet him!!)

Uncle Reed with his nephew and niece. Waiting for the mission call ANY DAY NOW!!

Beatles Rockband. Dad was singing falsetto most of the time. Good times!

Let Me Not Forget...

During scripture study tonight, Gavin showed me that he learned the meaning of "iniquity" last night while I was at a church meeting.

He said, "Iniquity means bad things that people do to each other."

That's a pretty good 3-year-old definition, for sure.

Later, while we asked him to think of things he was grateful for so that he could thank Heavenly Father for them in his prayer, he mentioned that he got to go outside with Daddy, that he learned the meaning of "Israel" (comma, House of), and that he peed his pants.

Frowning, Casey and I told him that last item was not something to be thankful for and that it didn't make us happy.

Brightening, Gavin hopped on his knees, spread his arms wide and said:

"That's INIQUITY!"

Reality Bits

I love love to read blogs and experiences from real people who are not afraid to bare it all - that is, not afraid to show the world their true selves and write about their real lives, the good and the bad.

Take my friend Rachel, for instance.

She is the prime example of someone who is so refreshingly creative that her blog and family and home could make the cover of any Good Housekeeping or Better Homes and Gardens magazines, but it is her raw moments of extreme self-awareness that keep me laughing, crying, widening my eyes in amazement...and nodding in complete agreement as I realize that someone else has bad moments, too (gasp!).

I think most people like to show the cutest, happiest moments of their lives on their personal websites and such, which is only natural, but in me, at least, it sometimes creates a false sense of reality that I compare myself to. I have a wonderful life, no doubt, but it isn't all wonderful. When I can read how others overcome the less-than-perfect in their lives, I feel more hope for myself and am inspired to do more for my family.

In reading many of the seemingly perfect blogs, sometimes it's easy for me to think, How is her hair perfectly combed and her figure dressed in the latest and greatest to show off her pre-high school weight; children bright and fresh-faced, wearing garments knitted by hand from the wool of the sheep out back, all happily and quietly playing with their Rubik's Cubes; house adorned with killer steals found at an antique store and magically transformed into a work of art using only a paperclip and a stick; dinner table dressed with the latest in gourmet fare with seasonal accouterment to boot; and husband littering the ground she walks on with rose petals and her favorite scents?

If I were to write an honest blog post, it might look something like this:

* * *

Today was an uber-busy day in a life that isn't usually full of uber-busyness.

This morning I loaded up the kids and went to help set up for this evening's Young Women in Excellence program. A three-hour block of time was indicated for the event preparation, but I knew my kids wouldn't last that long.

Sure enough, after pushing two pianos into the cultural hall using gluteal muscles I didn't know I had (can't wait for the burn tomorrow) and generally adding little to the decorations because of the incredible natural interior designers in whose company I drooled, Averi was done being nice and Gavin was done not touching the portable DVD player I brought. After putting one of the cords back together (did Gavin get that trait from his Great-Grandpa Adlish? The trait where he takes things apart and neglects to or lacks the skills to put them back together?) and loading up the children, I busted a gut to get to the library and pick up one book.

Yep - a whole trip to the library for just ONE book for Joy School tomorrow. How convenient that I am also teaching Joy School in the midst of this crazy week!

Post library: drive 15 more minutes to get to the church bookstore where a weird negotiation would take place. Okay, so I get that business is business, but is it wrong to haggle over a painting of Jesus Christ? (I suppose if it was, they better give it to me for free.) Highlight: score INCREDIBLE deal on Minerva Teichert's Christ in the Red Robe framed canvas giclee. I've been waiting for that one to cost less than an arm, leg, and my firstborn for years. GIDDY!

Grocery shopping next. With Averi at the end of her rope, having missed the morning nap and now almost into the next without eating lunch yet, I up and fed her a partial lunch in the baby food isle of the store. I suppose I could have utilized the dining area by the deli, but I felt more at home amongst the pureed vegetables and dehydrated whole-grain cereals. Gavin was supposed to snack on goldfish crackers and a banana until I could purchase a lunch for him.

Shopping went swimmingly well, thanks to Gavin's preoccupation with the car built into the shopping cart and his inability to undo the seat belt once he snapped it shut across his lap. I won't be teaching him how to undo that type of restraint for as long as possible.

Check out line: unravel time. Cart full of groceries, kids tired, mom bordering exhaustion, Gavin starts moaning. You all know the moan. It is usually accompanied by the following sentence: "I have to go potty NOW!" And he means it. He waits until the absolute last second before saying a word, so I knew I had to take him.

I attempted to maneuver the 15-foot-long shopping cart into the restroom because it would have been an enormous hassle to take Gavin, my 67-lb. diaper bag and Averi in her car seat all out of the shopping cart, but as it turns out, I should have risked it. When I pulled the cart in, I had to back it all the way into the opposite wall from the door, and the car portion was still sticking out of the door with Gavin in it. We were now fully spanning the width of the restroom and effectively blocking the entrance for any other desperate female to attempt a potty break. Spectacular.

With another moan coming from the cart, I knew I had to suck it up and turn on the apologies for the other patrons. I smiled sweetly and mumbled, "So sorry!" as I shoved Gavin into the stall and furiously whispered at him to hurry up. Since our cart was propping the door open, I was able to greet the other women who came into the restroom and had to cling to the wall as they stepped over and around our cart to a chorus of jumbled, "Excuse us...my toddler...had to go potty...small bladder." I should have charged admission as every other person within a 20-foot radius of the door was trying not to stare.

Meanwhile, Averi was eating the artificial plant in the corner.

Gavin was too scared to flush the potty, so to prevent a scene (rrrrright) I had to dash into the stall, thus deserting Averi for a few moments, flush the potty and put my son back together. We made as hasty an exit as a 15-foot shopping cart can and made our way to the checkout line.

It was in the line that I realized Gavin had partially squished one of the bananas in my bag so that the contents were oozing out into my stuff. Sigh. I also realized that he had consumed nearly an entire bag of goldfish crackers during the 45-minutes we were at the store. So much for lunch.

We paid for the groceries and lugged ourselves to the car. As I loaded children and groceries, I carelessly placed the open bag of goldfish into one of the grocery bags, and when I went to load it into the car it promptly tipped over and spilled all over the bag. Because that's just the way life goes.

Finally in the car, I gave Gavin a lunchable and patted myself on the back for being such a thoughtful mother, providing a fun treat as a lunch for my son.

Two minutes into the drive home: "I don't like the cheese."

I was also eating a lunchable, and come to think of it, neither did I.

Later: "I don't like the meat."

Hmmm, I don't like the meat either. I don't even like the crackers...what in tarnation is this overly-processed, salt-stuffed crud that I am lovingly offering my child??

We finally made it home and I sent grumpy babies off to naps as soon as I could.

* * *

In the midst of times like the above, I am grateful to know that there are infinitely more wonderful times to blog about than imperfect times. But as someone who wants to be honest with the world, I feel it necessary to record both the good and the heavy sigh-worthy moments. I sure hope that there are more of us imperfects out there, just trying to do the best we know how and laughing about our delusions of grandeur.

Speaking of delusions of grandeur: I am SO glad that this one of mine actually came true! Click here to see the painting that now graces my hallway.