I used to be an INFP.

Now I'm an INFJ.  I didn't see the breakdown on my scores, but maybe I'm teetering on the middle.  Anyway, I love to read summaries of my so-called personality in a lengthy, nice description that sounds better than I am.  It's as if by taking a test, someone out there now knows me better than I know myself, and I suddenly have an instant soulmate.

Mush Me

Jamie:  "I'm afraid there's going to be a poopoo on the ground and the poopoo's going to mush me."  Said as an excuse to ask me to pull the other lawn chair over beside me for him.

Ready to swim

We took Jamie to the pool yesterday.  He picked up some skills right away, which is encouraging me to get him some lessons.  "Why swim lessons?" you might ask since I used to teach lessons myself?  Good question.  Could it be that the cost of buying myself a new swimsuit would cover 8 weeks of swim lessons?  Could it be because there's not a pool around with enough uncrowded public swim time?  Maybe I lack the confidence that two little brothers would learn much of anything from their mother?  

Nevertheless, if Jamie wants to go swimming and can put on his swimsuit by himself, what am I going to do?  Discourage him and point out it's on inside out?  

It's killing me not to have good access to a pool for the kids.  I was so spoiled with it when I was young.  

Sweethearts

Yesterday, Joel said he thought we needed to do some work for Jesus before we could see him again.  He decided we need to get big, black trash bags and go fill them up with trash from the whole world and bring them home with us and put in our trash cans.  Then he decided that we needed to share some of Jesus' love with others and that we should make cookies and take them to people.  

So, today was Sunday, and we shouldn't be working on the Sabbath, so the trash will wait until Monday.  But the cookies, we could make on Sunday.  I consider that work, but I don't think Heavenly Father nor most people do.  So, we only finished 10.  If you're one of the lucky 10 people we visit tomorrow, be prepared for some sweethearts.  

Time to Blog

It's been too long since my last post.  It's going to sound more depressing than I am.  It's going to sound like therapy.  Sorry folks, but all the things I've been thinking of blogging about are coming up, bulimia-style.  

Las Vegas:

Hot, skanky, excessive

Cirque du Soleil:

Magical, bliss, inspiring

Church carpet:

Makes me cry

Diets:

suck, mean, hate

Being fat:

sucks, depressing, hate

Weeds:

Grow, spread, ugly

Body aches:

Punishment, aggravating, discouraging

Getting old:

Giving up dreams

Spouse:

Wonderful, thoughtful, kind

J:

Independent, resilient, faithful

j:

Love, messy, emotional

Playing horn:

Practice, Endless, Practice

TV:

Addictive, escape, caution

Bulimia:

Would love to know

I just found out, Jamie's been pooping his pants during the night or naps, because he was too afraid to wake me up to go to the bathroom.  He was sensitive to all the yelling at Joel that we did about getting out of bed, that he's too afraid to do what he needs to take care of himself.  That explains a lot.  It makes me sad when the kids reflect my bad behavior in coping mechanisms.  

Ah well.  A new week.  We'll see if I can do something to improve things.

So you think you can dance.

Harlan had an awesome trombone solo on "It's not easy being green." He got the biggest applause.  We loved the whole night of happy big band music.  And the boys were so inspired to strut out their moves on the dance floor.    

(You'll have to imagine the audio.)

Sunbreak

Summer in the northwest cannot be beat.  I get vacation fever every year about this time.  But whenever I try to think of where to go, I can't find anywhere nicer than home.  It's the perfect temperature 95% of the summer, the perfect humidity, and it's colored with fantastic vegetation.

So, here we are loving our backyard.  Would you come join us so we don't have to leave?