Weekend Words

Two entirely unrelated things happened this weekend, but I decided to put them together anyway to complete my blog posts for September (unless something else cool happens in the next three days). 

Yesterday, Shulamith and I went to Bluffdale to check on house-building progress, and guess what? We have walls! And flooring! And it's pretty crazy the difference walls and flooring make. Well just look here:

But there's even better news than this. Everyone, pay attention here! Shulamith's house is finally scheduled to be dug. This coming week! That means the next time we drive down to Bluffdale, we should see the most beautiful hole, right where her house will be. Oh my goodness, I can't even wait!

Then today I had what's commonly known as a "Proud Mom Moment," only this time it was more like a "Proud Mom Couple of Hours." At 9:00 a.m. Seth gave his mission homecoming talk in the 4th Ward, which is the ward we were in when he left on his mission just over two years ago. He spoke in our current ward two weeks ago, but only for five minutes, and he knew not one person in the room besides those from our immediate family plus one friend who came to hear him. Today, he got to speak for 15 minutes to a room filled with many familiar (though masked) faces, and I think he really enjoyed this experience. He talked about keeping the Spirit in our lives and how to do that and why it's so important. It was awesome! Gerald watched it at home via Zoom.

Once that meeting ended, I jumped in my car and headed south to Herriman, where Eli and Amanda were both giving talks in their new ward. Unfortunately, my phone somehow didn't get charged last night, so by the time I was driving to Herriman, it was nearly dead. This might have been very bad because I had only an address for Eli and Amanda's church building. I waited until I was near their house to use my GPS and prayed the phone would stay charged enough to get me to the church. It did. Barely. It died literally as I pulled into the church parking lot.

Both their talks were excellent. Amanda spoke about her gratitude for living prophets and pointed out how long before we knew anything about the upcoming pandemic, President Nelson shifted our focus to a home-centered, church-supported program. Eli gave examples and non-examples of ancient and modern cultures and their experiences following (or not) prophetic counsel.

All in all, it's been a lovely weekend, and the next one promises to be even better. 

Who's excited for General Conference? Woo!

 

I love my family, but I HATE feeding them!

Most of you know how much I love my family. A friend and older lady who has no children of her own once commented, "Terrianne is a fierce mother." That's possibly the nicest compliment anyone has ever paid me. I do love my family, but may I say right here:

I HATE feeding them.

You have no idea what I'm up against. It's not so much that they have unusual preferences; it's that each of them has his or her own little food quirks, the one or two things he or she won't eat, or the one food category that is off limits. Well, let me clarify:

Gerald won't eat mammals. This includes, among other things, all beef and pork. He also won't eat mayonnaise or mustard or any foods containing those.

Shulamith won't eat fruits or vegetables. If the veggie chunks are large enough, she is willing to pick them out of dishes, but if a fruit comes within six feet of her plate, it's game over. 

Isaiah, who has traveled the world and eaten the cuisine of 14 different countries on 5 continents, won't eat a hamburger or a cold deli sandwich. 

Seth hates anything cooked in a crock pot, and he also detests ground turkey. He reminds me of the old lady from the Wendy's commercial once upon a time: "Where's the beef?"

Eli gets sick at the thought of all seafood, but especially shrimp. And he'll only eat deli meat if it's sliced razor thin.

Mathew won't eat onions or mushrooms. He can deal with some chopped onions in recipes, but absolutely no mushrooms, even cream of mushroom soup.

Amanda doesn't like any Asian food and believes sweet food does not go with savory food, and sweet food cannot be for dinner, only for treats.

Are you confused yet??? 

In their defense, all these lovely people are quick to say that I should make whatever I want and not worry about them. They can always find something else to eat, they say. Of course that's true, but here's the thing. We don't do the weekly or every-other-week family dinner, so typical here in the Utah (LDS) culture, so on the rare occasion that we do have everyone together for a holiday or birthday celebration, yes, I want everyone to be able to eat!

And I don't want to have to choose who can't. 

Do I omit all red meat so Gerald will eat? Or do I choose a beef recipe so Seth will? Do I make a yummy Asian recipe and exclude Amanda, or a delicious casserole with cream of mushroom soup and exclude Matt? Do I prepare a tasty, fruity dessert and exclude Shulamith, or do I grill burgers and exclude Isaiah?

Add to this that I'm a subpar cook, so my options are limited in the first place. Ugh! No matter what I prepare, I feel like I have to apologize to someone. 

On the upside, sometimes a glorious thing happens, and people cook for me. During the two years Eli and Amanda lived here, that happened once or twice a week. It was amazing! Dinner was just presented to me; I didn't have to choose the meal, shop for the food, cook it, or clean up. When they left, I thought those days were over, but recently, Isaiah has started cooking, and twice this month, he has done the same thing. Here's what he gave me a couple nights ago:

Asian noodles with pork in a curry sauce with green onions. Mmmmm! And he cleaned everything thoroughly and left the kitchen sparkling. (Of course this wouldn't work for Amanda or Gerald because it's Asian and includes pork.)

Haha, I sure do love my family.

But I HATE feeding them.

Try Something Relaxing, Like Painting or Ceramics, (they said)!

Well not "they." 

He.

My doctor.

With my debilitating anxiety disorder, you will not be surprised to learn that I tend to avoid doctors, to use the proverbial simile: Like the plague. I avoid them until my inner sense of duty takes over, and I realize that there are a couple annual or biennial screenings that do need to be done. Eeek! Knowing these medical appointments will shoot my anxiety right into the stratosphere, I usually spread them out over several months, but this year I had a different idea. What if I scheduled all these appointments (including the dentist, which also scares me spitless) in the same week? That way I would have one horrifying week, but then it would be over, and (once all test results came back clear), I could enjoy the remaining 50-51 weeks of the year.

As I sat in one of these healthcare provider's offices (Day 2 of my weeklong visits with medical personnel), just ever so shy of a full-on panic attack (!), he decided to ask me about my anxiety and what steps I take to reduce it.

"WELL, I TRY TO SYSTEMATICALLY AVOID DOCTORS...DUH!" 

I wanted to shout this in is face, but shouting in people's faces is a bad idea these days, and also, he was really such a nice dude that I refrained. You see, I don't have a personal physician, like someone I see regularly. I have no health issues other than anxiety, so when I force myself to brave up and go do these damn screenings, I see whomever happens to be available. It makes zero difference to me who that is. They are all terrifying.

I tell you that so you'll give this nice guy a break when I tell you the rest of the story. He doesn't know me from Eve. When he asked what steps I take to reduce anxiety, I promptly gave all the right answers:

• relaxation 
• meditation
• yoga poses
• breathing techniques
• regular exercise
• healthy food
• no alcohol
• no tobacco

"Do you drink coffee?" he wanted to know.

"Nope, I drink Diet Coke."

"Me too; it's my favorite," he replied.

Well, look at that. We're BFFs already. Soulmates really.

Then came the most hilarious part of the visit. In a genuine, caring attempt to help me better control my anxiety, he kindly suggested that I "try something relaxing, like painting or ceramics." It was all I could do to hold in the laughter that was bursting inside every part of my body. The irony is that if I wanted to find two things that would most efficiently increase my anxiety, I can't think of two better candidates than painting and ceramics! 

Again, the guy doesn't know me. I didn't want to be rude. Or disrespectful. He had already surpassed my expectations when, as an introduction, he said, "Hi Terrianne. I'm Michael Strombly." I am so impressed with doctors when they aren't so arrogant that they call you by your first name but expect you to use the courtesy title "Dr." and their last name. He didn't do that. Yay!

I told him writing is my sole creative outlet (other than speaking in church, and I only get to do that when they let me), and I promised to do lots more blogging.

Then I got the hell out of there because oh my goodness, those places are bad for me.

P.S. Screenings all came back clear. Good to go for at least a year.

"Imma take this money and run. Love ya!"

This past Friday we closed on the sale of our home, and half the proceeds were handed to me in a check made out to Shulamith! 

Backstory, nine years ago when we moved to Utah, Gerald was still employed in Montana, and I was happily unemployed. We picked out the perfect house for all of us but soon learned that our lender couldn't use income from Montana to secure our loan. "Well that's awesome. Since we have no Utah income," I lamented. Then Shulamith (aka Olivia Pope) suggested we use her job to get the loan. She was a full-time kindergarten teacher at the time, so she had plenty of steady income. And that's exactly what we did. Gerald, Shulamith, and I all signed on the contract, and technically, we all owned the house, even though Shulamith never paid any money for it. Haha. 

As time went by, I sort of forgot she even signed on the loan, but when we listed our house for sale last month, sure enough, the title was in my name, with her and Gerald as co-signers. And Friday, when we signed at the closing, once again, the three of us sat at a table together, signing our lives away. Later when I went back to the title office to get the money, I was handed two checks in equal amounts, one made out to Gerald and me, and one made out to Shulamith. (Why they decided to give 1/4 to me, 1/4 to Gerald, and the other 1/2 to Shulamith I have no idea, but whatever.) I immediately texted her a picture of her check, to which she replied, "Imma take that money and run. Love ya!" 

She won't do that, I don't think (?), but it made me laugh. Instead, she and her family will move to Bluffdale along with us, if their house ever gets built, that is. Which leads to another messy story. Last winter, she and I contemplated moving to Bluffdale and building homes near each other in a brand new development called Edge Homes. So new was it that the first day we went out there to look, literally the only edifice that existed anywhere was a single-wide mobile home, with the logo Edge Homes, Inc. on the front, and a real estate agent inside ready to give us all the details. For miles around this mobile home, we saw only dirt. So much dirt. Mounds and mounds of dirt. The agent in the mobile home, Chase, showed us pictures and floor plans of the different styles of homes, but to see an actual house, we had to drive to Lehi or Saratoga Springs.

Way back then, I didn't believe for a second we would actually move to Bluffdale. Like really? No we won't. We had looked at several other housing developments, and we didn't move to those, so why would this be any different? But then suddenly (it seemed), Shulamith and Matt had serious money and a contract on a house to be built in Bluffdale. Say what??? So I figured I'd better get on board. We went under contract about a month after the Webster-Monsons, but even then, I didn't think it would really happen. Matt agreed. He and I understood all 30,000 things that could still go wrong. Top on the list was getting our house sold. Prepping this house for sale was a major undertaking; oh my goodness! There was so much to do in order to get top value for our investment, and I would have never been able to do that all by myself. I am eternally indebted to Shulamith, Eli, and Amanda, who all worked tirelessly by my side on so many, many projects. Forever the optimist, Shulamith was always sure everything would work out fine. 

And it will. 

Just not as soon as we'd hoped. 

Remember how Shulamith and Matt went under contract a full month before we did? Well let me just show you how things are progressing. Here is our house:

Guys! As of yesterday, we even have a tub in the upstairs kids' bathroom:

And this, right here, is Shulamith's dirt (I mean house):

Do you see the problem? Our house is dug and framed. Plumbing and HVAC have been through, and insulation will be done this next week. Anticipated completion is October 31st. Meanwhile, Shulamith's house is still nothing more than that lovely dirt we saw the first time we went out there. It's a complicated story, but it involves power lines that needed to be moved, forcing Edge to go back to the City of Bluffdale for permits a second time; slowdowns due to COVID; and on and on. She did receive notice just this past week of a very positive step toward getting this house started, which gave us some much needed hope.

One day, in the not-too-distant future, when we're both in our new houses, livin' the dream, I know all this will be just a funny memory. 

Unless....

...unless, Shulamith follows through with her original plan: "Imma take that money and run. Love ya!"