Gratitude

Imagine this scenario: You’re in Relief Society one day and someone passes you a clip board filled with opportunities to provide service. There's a sign-up sheet to bring dinners to sister so-and-so because she just had an emergency appendectomy. Next in the pile you find a sign-up sheet to donate Christmas gifts to a needy family. You come upon yet another sign up sheet to sew quilts for aids orphans in Africa. The list goes on and on and these "opportunities" seem endless. You faithfully sign up to make dinner, donate gifts and sew quilts because you've already felt the blessings that come from serving your fellowmen and you truly believe in the Relief Society motto "Charity Never Faileth."

What about those of us who are the recipients of your dinner, your gifts, your quilts etc? It’s as important to receive as it is to give - right? I’ve attended countless lessons on service, but don’t remember many on the topic of allowing oneself to be a recipient of service. I take that back…the topic is briefly touched upon when we receive these lessons on serving. But, do we honestly take that to heart? Why is it so difficult for us to accept generosity from others when we’re constantly looking for opportunities to give it?

I guess I’m writing this because I’ve come to that point in my life where I’ve had to rely on the kindness and generosity of others. I sometimes feel worried that I request too much from my Relief Society sisters and my ward. “I need meals on these specified days and I can’t eat barbeque sauce, green beans or cherries – Oh! And citrus totally makes me vomit. One more thing! I have gestational diabetes so please make sure you include plenty of protein and veggies and no sugary sweets please…oh and could you give me your right arm and first born child while you’re at it? Thanks….appreciate-cha!” One day REALLY soon I can just see them looking at me like “Are you kidding me?” all the while rolling their eyes as they walk away…*Sigh*

I haven’t even mentioned the sacrifices my family has made on my behalf…a sister who sends me funny gifts to keep a smile on my face, another sister who takes vacation time and buys a plane ticket to spend a few days cleaning my apartment, a wonderful mother who worries and frets over me who also has purchased a plane ticket to come visit and help me out around the house and a father always willing to chit-chat with his little girl while she's laying on her living room couch day in and day out. Not to mentioned the prayers and fasting that have come from my brothers and their families as well as all of the help and concern from my husband's side of the family. I feel so…undeserving.

Then I think of this amazing little baby growing inside of my body. I think of the cliché “It takes a village to raise a child” and I realize that the “village” has already taken part in the welfare of his little body and spirit even though he hasn’t been born yet. When I put this into perspective it doesn’t seem as difficult to accept the kindness and generosity all of you have shown and continue to show me and my family. Because of all of you, I’ve been able to make sure this little guy comes into this world safely and at just the right time.

In the Spanish Bible the phrase “Charity Never Faileth” is written “El Amor Nunca Deja de Ser.” Direct translation: “Love Never Ceases to Be.” To my wonderful friends, family and ward members: Your love will never cease to abide in my heart. Thank you for the kind service you've shown us during this amazing time in our lives.

Love, Em, Robbie and JT

It's been creeping up on me for some time...

...and now that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm starting to have panic attacks!



Ya...I'm 31 weeks and counting. That means that in approximately 9 weeks (give or take a few here or there) I'll be pushing something the size of a watermelon out of something roughly the size of a peach. I don't know about you, but to me - that sounds HELLA...FREAKIN'...SCARY!



I'm getting to the point that I kinda wish I were an Elephant. I'm not talking about being a creature with a long nose that weighs roughly the same as 3 Chevy Suburbans (oh but I'm getting there - don't worry). I'm not even saying that I want a 260 pound baby (that's about how much they weigh at birth). I'm saying that elephants get to wait 22 months until their kiddos are born...that would give me enough time to work on stretching my you-know-what to the appropriate size.



I know - sounds CRAZY! Right? Everyone says I'll get to the point where I'll just want this little alien thing the #$&% OUT OF ME! But for now - I'm having dreams that I'm actually going to give birth to a 260 lb kid and I'm going to rip big time from my you-know-what to my you-know-where...Oi...Why didn't I get a surrogate?

I Voted Yes!!!

To all my gay and lesbian peeps out there - I love you. I just had to put that out there before I start in on what I have to say.

I've been feeling really bad about how dirty this Proposition 8 campaign has become. Because I've been stuck on my couch for the last 3 weeks, I've had ample time to watch all of the "No on 8" commercials. Each new one that I've seen paints those of us who believe in traditional marriage as bigots who are trying to repress their brothers and sisters who have a different sexual orientation. I've honestly taken this personally because I have so many loved ones who are homosexual and I really don't want them to think that I don't believe they should have the right to be who they are and to love who they want.

Not too long ago, I threw out my opinion that homosexuals chose to be that way. After having some extremely profound discussions with some homosexual friends, I have come to feel that same sex attraction is a natural tendency for some people. Whether or not I believe they should act on that tendency is a different story. But, who am I to judge what they do with their lives? I can't judge them and I won't. If they choose to act and live as a homosexual just as I choose to act and live like a heterosexual, they have my blessing and all I desire for them is happiness and love in their lives.

After being married for over a year now, I have to say I believe in marriage between a man and a woman, in families with a mother and a father and in my right as a parent to teach these concepts to my children. I believe in freedom of religion, that if a church does not preach of or support same-sex unions, it has the right to refuse to perform such unions. I believe in my right as a parent to practice my freedom of speech and to be in control and approve of what my child learns in school.

Same-sex couples in California who are in domestic partnerships have the exact same rights as married couples.

"It affords the couple virtually all of the same substantive legal benefits and privileges, and imposes upon the couple virtually all of the same legal obligations and duties, that California law affords to and imposes upon a married couple." In re Marriage Cases, California Supreme Court, S147999, p. 2-3

I support this and I am happy that same-sex couples have the same rights and legal benefits as I do. To me, Proposition 8 is a re-definition issue. Why, then, do we need to have a debate to change the definition of a word that has meant one thing since the begining of time?

This is why I voted "YES" on Proposition 8 today. I have to say that I left the polling location (my doctor said I could go) feeling extremely content and happy with my vote. I know in my heart of hearts that it was absolutely the right thing to do. Marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God, no matter where the marriage occurs.

If you don't agree with me, please don't judge me - because I'm not judging you. Please don't think I'm a bigot, because I love you and all of my fellow men regardless of the color of their skin, their sexual orientation or whether or not they love Neil Diamond.

Tuesday Funny

This was just so funny that I couldn't help but share it with you. I just happened on a blog that had this posted - so I copied her (I know - I have no shame or creativity for that matter). I honestly started laughing so hard that I almost went into labor.

I never respond to tags...

...but for this one I decided "What the heck!? I'm on bed rest - I have nothing better to do...Well, I guess I could be working and calling my accounts - but who wants to do that?"

This is the 4th picture in one of my picture folders. I may seem the essence of cool and class - especially to those of you who have known me for less than 4 years, but don't be fooled by the facade...deep down inside I'm as white trash as they come. I think it stems from all of the fake cowboys I was exposed to in high school. In public, I turned up my nose at them, but at night when no one was around, I would secretly cry myself to sleep wishing I could pull off wearing cowboy hats, pink wranglers that made my butt look 5 times bigger than it really was and lime green cowboy boots. Since that was out of the question, I turned to grungy flannel shirts, baggy jeans and being in love with Larry Mullen Jr. (U2's Drummer)...*sigh*

Anyhoo...back to the picture. When Robbie and I had the opportunity to go to a Monster Truck Jam, I jumped at the chance. He went straight to work making the perfect white trash T-Shirts (his said "Who Needs a woman? Marry your Monster Truck!" mine had like 20 pictures of Britney Spears and said "Mess with me, and you mess with the whole trailer park"). He made sure to grow himself a handle bar mustache and I went to my own personal make-up bag and pulled out my fake eyelashes, powder blue eyeshadow and pink frosted lipgloss...ya...I didn't even need to shop for that stuff...I told you I was white trash deep down inside.

If we had been in Utah, no one would have given us a second look, because everyone who goes to a Monster Truck Rally dresses like that every day. In California, it was a different story...I've never been stared at so much in my life! That was a great night! It's been too long since I've been to a Monster Truck Jam. As soon as this bed rest thing is over, I'm DEFINITELY going to treat myself!

I'm not going to tag anyone...but if you really want to do this tag, be my guest!

Hangin' with my little J-Dawg

Disclaimer: Recently, I was put on bedrest for the final trimester of my pregnancy by a very wonderful doctor who wants nothing more than to bring our little person into this world safely and in a healthy state. This is my tribute to bedrest and a healthy baby.

For the past week and a half, I've seen the world very different ways:

1)Looking up at the popcorn ceiling of my apartment. When I was a little girl I would look up at the ceiling in our house and find different shapes of animals and people. I would imagine stories about them and would wonder what they did to get stuck in a ceiling (they must have been naughty and were placed in a ceiling rather than on good solid ground :-)). There's a spot on my ceiling that isn't very popcorny and if I look really closely I can see some of the beams that hold up the floor of the apartment above me. I don't see any shapes of animals or people and haven't been able to imagine situations. This makes me kind of sad that I've become an adult and no longer have the childish imagination of my youth. Who knows maybe it's hiding in there someplace and I've just got to find it.

2)Even though I don't have a veiw of the street, I can see the world go by as I lay here slightly elevated on my left side. Just a few minutes ago I saw a squirrel running along the highest point of the garage roof just opposite from where I'm laying. The tree outside my window is changing colors - even though I live in the land of eternal sunshine. I find myself forever grateful for that tree. It's yellow dying leaves make me smile and help me to understand that there is a cycle to every life, that changes happen and that there is always a spring around the corner where our lives will be beautiful, green and new - though never the same.

3) There is kindness in others that I never could have imagined. I'm so lucky to belong to a church where service and unconditional love is one of the most important foundations. It can be pretty lonely laying here day after day with no one to talk to - especially for this little social butterfly whose happiness completely depends on her ability to chat and talk and build relationships. I have an amazing visiting teacher who has stepped up to the plate and has arranged for women in the ward to visit and chat with me and to bring me dinner. I have had the most wonderful experience getting to know women who I haven't had the chance to say more than two words to. I've been able to chat with friends and get to know them so much better than I would have had I been able to continue on with my daily routine of hitting the pavement every day to sell, sell, sell. To my dear Cheyenne - you are truly an Angel sent to me from Heaven and have made this experience more delightful than I could ever imagine.

4) My husband really is the best thing that could have happened in my life. I honestly don't know what I would do without his funny jokes to keep my spirits up or his uncanny ability to calm my nerves when I'm about to succomb to the "CRAZY PREGNANT LADY" waiting to break out and cause utter mayhem. He tells me all the time that he loves me and that he loves to serve me. He is willing to sacrifice so many things to spend time with his "best girl." He is willing to clean the bathroom, do the dishes, the laundry and all the cleaning just so his little "clean freak" doesn't break down into one of her episodes (Who me? NEVER!). His blue eyes, his red dot and his amazing smile never cease to make the butterflies in my stomach flitter every time I see him. I hope you all have your own personal Robbies (or the prospect of one), they make life liveable.

5) I'm begining to understand what it really means to sacrifice and to love this little guy growing inside of me. I would do anything for my little Dawg. I wake up in the middle of the night to feel his gentle kicking and I take comfort that he's growing big and strong. I'm so grateful for the miracle of life - because my little J-Dawg is my miracle. I can already sense his personality and that he's going to be a vivacious, wonderful, amazing person. I feel such gratitude that I can be a part of his life.

I've decided that bed rest isn't a total tragedy, though it is difficult for me to be laying down for twenty-four hours a day. I'm taking this time to see the beauty in it, because honestly it is beautiful to be a mother and to do all you can to help your children safely enter this world. I think of all the things that he is going to have to go through just by growing up in Southern California and ask myself "Is it worth it?" My answer Yes it is! - he has every right to come to earth and to gain a body and to go through all of the trials and messes that this life throws at us. What a wonderful time to be alive and to help bring a life into the world!

Too Bad We Didn't See THIS Last Night

Don't you just love...

...the ECONOMY?

Thank you whoever you are...

Can I tell you how much I love my husband? He tells me all the time how pretty I am, even though I feel like an enormous BEACH BALL. Actually, most days I feel more like a BEACHED WHALE. My sweet, wonderful husband will go so far as to point out other pregnant women and tell me how much better than them I look. What a guy! He's really begining to understand what makes women feel good! He really is sweet and I thank him for making me feel like I'm the most loved woman in the world.

Some days, however, it's hard for me to really feel pretty. I have a friend, who I just love, but whenever I tell her I feel like a beach ball, she agrees with me and then points out how big my ankles look. I know it's my fault for even mentioning it, but...are you kidding me? You don't say stuff like that to an emotionally b#%chy pregnant woman! Show a little compassion! For the most part though, people are usually pretty nice and tell me how good I look. These are usually people I know and deep down in my soul I feel like they're just saying those things to make sure I don't fall apart and start crying. In other words, I don't really believe them.

Well, today I was in the grocery store and went through the self check-out. Hello! Big mistake. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I should've let a trained professional scan my groceries, but I thought I'd save time. HA! Like that ever happens. I need to learn my lesson. Anyhoo...I was having a *&#$ of a time getting the computer to stop telling me I had to wait for the attendant or coming anywhere close to finding the code for garlic. **Note to self: don't use the self check-out if some of your groceries don't have bar codes** The "attendant" had to come and bail me out like 12 times.

When I thought I was about to lose everything from my cool to my maternity bra, the attendant asks me "So, how far along are you?" Oh no - my eyes begin to roll and I brace myself for what's coming! I sigh and tell her I'm about 6 months. I was expecting to hear what I usually hear..."Oh my goodness, I can't believe how big you are!" or "Wow! Now that's a big baby!"...in other words..."Holy crap you remind me of a beached whale!" But for once, in the 20 years I've been pregnant, I hear something like this..."Oh - that's so exciting! Is this your first? You are going to love being a mother. You look absolutely gorgeous!" She then went on to tell me how much fun boys were and that her first child was a boy and she wouldn't have it any other way, but before I walked away she made sure to tell me one more time how beautiful I was.

Stunned, I gathered up myself and my cart and headed toward the door. Slowly, a little smile crept on to my face. I couldn't comprehend what just happened. I actually believed a complete stranger when she told me that I was a beautiful, glowing pregnant woman. This was truly a break-through.

I've tried to have a better attitude about being pregnant, and for the most part...I have. I just haven't quite come to terms with my ever changing and expanding body. But thanks to the lady at Ralph's, I'm begining to really believe that big is beautiful.

Thank you Ralph's lady...you have no idea how much I needed you today.

And the weiner is...

It looks like I have a bunch of crazies who read this blog. I've submitted my Whale of a Story for review to the editors of the blog book. Wish me luck! Hopefully they want stories of whale dorks (aka whale pee pee's) in their nice "family" publication. Thanks to all 12 of you who voted! I'm glad I have readers - even though your numbers are sparse. Maybe I'd have more readers if I posted more often...hmmm...Now there's a bright idea to think about!