Weight Off My Shoulders

About two months ago I was asked by our Stake Music Director if I would accept the assignment to have our ward choir participate in an Interdenominational Choir Festival. Of course I accepted, because that's what you do in this church when you're given an assignment. We had our Easter program to get ready, but as none of those songs would have really been appropriate for the Festival, so they were of no use.

We had to perform two songs by ourselves and prepare three more to do combined with the other choirs. The combined songs were HARD and freaked my whole choir out when we tried to sight-read them. I continued to reassure them and tell them that they would be surprised at how quickly they came together when we were there with the other singers. They didn't believe me, but I was proven correct in the end.

There were a few songs that were so clearly protestant, that a lot of my singers were weirded out by them. My singers just haven't been exposed to anything other than LDS-Sacrament-meeting-appropriate music. They've never sung upbeat spirituals with percussion. They were out of their comfort zone, but they still had a good time.

I was totally stressed about it because my singers haven't been very diligent or consistent in their rehearsal attendance. On top of that I was told about how the other choirs all have professional directors and professional accompanists, etc. etc. I was expecting them to be fantastic, and I wanted to be too.

We rehearsed two hours last Thursday night and two hours this afternoon. Then we had a 90 minute rehearsal combined right before the performance tonight. (That doesn't include the two hours I spent singing on Saturday with another choir.) So I have been a little burnt out and worried. I have been looking forward all weekend to Monday (can you believe it) because that would mean that this Choir Festival would finally be over!

Well, I was all prepared to hang my head in shame, because as many of you know, I am a music snob and perfectionist and am always dissatisfied with my performance. However, as soon as I heard the first choir sing I knew we had it in the bag. The first choir was terrible. The second choir was only moderately terrible, but picked a couple of really nice songs. Then we sang, and if I do say so myself, we were good. Pretty darn good. Not quite fabulous, but nearly. The first song was a little shaky, but the second was BEAUTIFUL. We did an arrangement of "Come Thou Fount" that I sung years ago with Aimee & Erin Palmer entitled "Blessings". It is a gorgeous arrangement, and I have had every ward choir I've directed since perform it.

I truly felt that angels came down and sang with us; our performance was consecrated by the Lord and the Spirit was there and we did so well. I was so proud of my singers. Hopefully they enjoyed themselves and haven't completely burned out. Now I get an emotional break and it feels good!

Birthday Girl

Yesterday was Jenny's 1st birthday. We had her aunties and uncles and cousins and grandparents come over for cake and ice cream. I spent the day getting ready for the very low-key and simple party. I was at the party store buying balloons when I spied a plethora of "first birthday" merchandise. Suddenly everything I had planned seemed inadequate. I had baked a yummy cake, but it didn't have any cartoon characters on it. I bought balloons to color-coordinate with Jenny's dress, but there was no theme! Do I need streamers? What about matching paper plates, napkins, and plasticware? This is my first time throwing a birthday party as a mom, and I'm going to be a failure!

Then I reminded myself of my big sister's first experience throwing a birthday party for her first-born. She made individual Mickey Mouse cakes for everyone and frosted them laboriously. I helped her and I remember her stress level that afternoon. She has since learned her lesson, but every birthday party still she has a theme, and somehow, miraculously, the cake always matches the theme (thank you Costco). Now my sister will be the first to admit that she is a classic over-doer when it comes to projects like these, but will I be able to be so self-aware as my mommy-coordinated events continue? Perhaps I can find the balance that eludes so many moms.

In the end the party wasn't fancy and it didn't last long. But the cake was yummy, the pictures are cute, and Jenny will never remember it. Mission accomplished.

Jenny's Second Easter

Jenny was born the day before Easter last year, so even though that was her first Easter, she wasn't very cognizant of it. She wasn't very sure about what was going on this year either. She didn't like going outside and sitting on the grass. She wasn't even interested in picking up an egg that was sitting on the ground right in front of her. Only when I picked it up and shook it like a rattle did she become remotely interested.

Joy in Daily Drudgery

I love vacuuming. Is that strange? I get great satisfaction from the whole experience. As many of you know, my husband is a bit of a slob. He is a packrat, rarely puts things away, and when he does put things away he places them in the wrong spot, making them impossible to find when I need them later. When I am frustrated at the mountain of possessions on his half of the room which leads me to be less than tidy myself, and the clutter is making me depressed, I get out my vacuum.

In fifteen short minutes I have entirely satisfying experience. I get my sluggish, tired, and pain-ridden body up and moving. I suck up dirt particles, nasty crunchies that the baby has either left or will roomba up later, and the ever present kitty litter that is strewn across my stairs. When I finish I leave a clean floor with beautiful parallel lines running across it. I love those lines. Vacuum lines in carpet are a great testimony. They testify that the room is clean. They testify that I have been productive. They testify that I accomplished something on my to-do list more than just keeping the baby alive and happy. And they look pretty. Maybe only a homemaker can fully appreciate the beauty of vacuum lines, but beautiful they are nonetheless.

Baby Jenny's Going to be a Big Sister!

...someday.

No, I'm not pregnant. However, I'm starting to think about becoming so. A couple of months ago Brent brought to my awareness that if we wanted to have our kids two years apart (as we originally planned) then I would have to get pregnant in a few months time.

When he told me this, I was absolutely shocked. I'm still in baby mode! How could I possibly have another baby! I'm still nursing for goodness sake! !@!!!

Having another baby was nowhere on my radar screen. Not even close. Now that the subject has been brought to my consciousness I have been thinking about it more and more. I have also polled almost every mother of my acquaintance for their opinion on the subject. Let me tell you, it is one hotly debated issue in motherdome.

Only this can I tell you: I definitely want more children. I've no idea when, but I figure I'll know when the time is right.

Book Review: The Bronze Bow

Catherine asked what I think about this book, so I thought I'd share.

For those of you who haven't read it "The Bronze Bow" by Elizabeth George Speare (author of "The Witch of Blackbird Pond") won the Newbery Award in 1962, or thereabouts. It is a work of historical fiction, set in Galilee at the time of Christ. The main character is a sullen and misunderstood young Jewish man who is a member of a group of bandits whose eventual aim is to lead a resistance against the Roman rule that oppresses them. This man, Daniel, is introduced to Christ's teachings and believes that Christ will lead the resistance and deliver the Jews from bondage. He learns that the way in which Christ will deliver them is not what he originally had in mind. He learns to give up the hatred that has fueled him for so long and become content with a personal spiritual deliverance rather than a political one.

The author tries to illustrate what it might have been like to be a follower at Jesus' feet. She describes the miracle of feeding the five thousand, the raising of Jairus' daughter from the dead, the healing of the sick and crippled. It puts things in a more personal perspective than what we receive from the account of these events in holy writ.

It is a nice book that teaches a nice moral and has a nice ending. That being said, keep in mind that this is a book for youth. To the young and unsophisticated I believe this book has the ability to teach and entertain. It's got adventure, intrigue, action, romance, and a good moral; in short, everything a fourteen-year-old Christian kid could want.

The story is predictable and a bit contrived. It's not terribly compelling for the seasoned reader, but if you are trying to teach the concept of foreshadowing to a seventh grader, then this book will serve you well. Many details, descriptions, and much of the dialogue seem Western and modern, and certainly don't fit the setting; it is very obviously written in the 20th century by a non-Jew.

I would recommend this book if you want a pleasant read that only takes a few hours. I would not recommend this book if you are looking for a thought-provoking stimulus. I would recommend it to my Beehive daughter, if I had one. I would just hope that she doesn't bear her testimony about it later in conjunction with her testimony regarding the Steed family of fictional church history.

36 Hours and Counting

Approximately 36 hours and Brent will be home for about 41 hours before heading back to NY. I'm trying to not think about the second half of that sentence and focus on the first half.

Although I miss him terribly and am anxiously looking forward to seeing him tomorrow night, I have to admit that there are a few perks to his being gone.

First of all, I have the whole bed to myself. Pre-baby I used to cuddle with Brent at night and when he was traveling there was a great void at nighttime. Then I got big pregnant and wanted only my pillows and a bigger bed. I still feel that way. Brent has a tendency to elbow me in the head during the night, and I certainly haven't missed that.

Secondly, the house has miraculously stayed clean. I cleaned it when he left and haven't really had to do it again since. I'm one of those pick-up-after-yourself and put-it-away-when-you're-done-using-it kind of people, and Brent most certainly is not. He's not quite as organizationally challenged as my dear and loveable sister Emma, but pretty darn close. So laundry and cooking dinner and other household tasks have certainly been easier with him gone. Nice perks to help me endure his absence, but I'd never take the trade. He's too good a husband.