It was never between you and them anyway.

One of my favorite email friends also writes a blog which I read regularly. Yesterday, she posted a poem interlaced with some lovely photography courtesy of her daughter. The poem apparently has a couple versions, but this particular version is credited to Mother Teresa. Some even claim that the words were written on the walls of Mother Teresa's own room. As spiritual beings working our way though a very human experience, we no doubt come upon people who treat us badly, who hurt us, who don't appreciate us, or with whom we cannot seem to find common ground no matter how hard we try. These situations can breed anger, resentment, profound sadness, and an overwhelming sense of defeat. However, they need not. As Mother Teresa's poem so eloquently points out, "It was never between you and them anyway."

Do It Anyway

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere, people may deceive you.

Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.

Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today will often be forgotten.

Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.

Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.

It was never between you and them anyway.

Thanks for sharing, Patty!

It's All About the Dress

Last weekend was Skyview High School's senior prom, and pictured here is Eli with his date, Carson. The fall formal dance, TWIRP (The Woman Is Required to Pay), came and went, and somehow I missed recording it in this blog. And Eli has never let me forget it. In an effort to make sure that doesn't happen again, here is the post about prom.

The problem is, when your kid is the guy, it's a bit hard to know what to write about. Let's face it, when it comes to prom, it's really all about the dress. I remember my senior prom...sort of. If I think hard, I can remember the name of the guy I went with. If I think harder, I can remember the names of the couple who accompanied us. If I think even harder, I can remember where we ate dinner, but that really takes way too much thought. On the other hand, I can tell you with perfect clarity the details of my dress. It's forever stamped in my mind. It was a light pink heavy cotton, halter style, empire waist, with ruffles going up both sides of the neck and another ruffle around the bottom. Ruffles were big back then! I loved my dress.

Then there was Shulamith's senior prom just seven years ago. Do I remember the name of her date? Nope. Do I remember where they had dinner? Nope. But let me tell you about her dress. It was jet black satin, fitted through the waist and fuller at the bottom, accented with a hot pink ruffle cascading down from the top of the dress to the floor. The price was far beyond what I had budgeted, but when she walked out of the dressing room, well let's just say that the only thing to do was "say yes to the dress." She looked stunning. I should point out that six years later, she more than made up for the excess expense of this dress by opting to wear my wedding gown rather than buying a new one, a choice which surely saved us hundreds of dollars.

So here you see Eli, looking dashing in his black tux and purple vest. Definitely handsome, yes? Still, if we're honest, the focus is on Carson and her lovely dress, a V-necked, flowered mini in multiple shades of purple and pink, a perfect choice to accuntuate her long dark hair. Radiant!

I love you, Eli, and watching you get ready for prom was pure delight for this mom. Nevertheless, you have to admit, when it comes to prom, it's really all about the dress.

Addiction

My name is Terrianne, and I am a cell phone addict.

(This is the part where you all say in unison, "Hi Terrianne.")

Not to make light of the topic of addiction. It is indeed a serious issue, one that I know all too well. I come from a family with a history of addiction. You need not look too far back in my genealogy to find a variety of struggles: from alcoholism to compulsive gambling, from overeating to tobacco addiction, you name it. The genetic link to addiction flows relentlessly through my veins, so much so that I decided years ago (like as a child) to steer completely clear of a few of the main culprits: alcohol, tobacco, and gambling. I mean why risk it, right? My structured eating and exercising regimen is an attempt to channel my fairly addictive personality to something that will yield positive rather than negative results.

At times I've wondered if I might be a shopping addict. I seriously love to shop. From clothes to shoes to groceries even, I get a total rush from the whole shopping experience. This is true even when I'm not shopping for myself. When I was Relief Society President (leader of the women's organization in our church), I regularly put together food orders for needy families in our ward. I discovered the exact same "high" while grocery shopping for them as when I shop for my own family. Of course the quintessential shopping experience can only happen in one place: Nordstrom. I tell my students that in their writing I had better see "verbs from Nordstrom!" meaning the loveliest, most stunning verbs imaginable...just like Nordstrom's clothes. Of course, my students look at me like I'm nuts because we don't have Nordstrom stores in Montana, so they have no idea what I'm talking about. That said, Gerald assures me that I'm not a shopping addict because shopping addicts buy clothes with money they don't have and consequently rack up hundreds or even thousands of dollars on credit cards. I most definitely don't do that.

However, last night I discovered that I am undeniably a cell phone addict. There is no longer any question about it. It was Eli's choir concert. Because my two middle boys have participated in the choir program at this high school for the past six years, and in all that time I've been a total deadbeat mom and not volunteered to help in any way, I decided it was now or never. Eli graduates in two months. When the choir teacher sent out an email asking for parents to sit in the band room and supervise kids during the performance, assuring us that we could go out into the audience to watch our own kids' performances live, I emailed her back and volunteered.

I arrived at 6:30 as requested and located the teacher for instructions. 1. Sit in the band room. 2. Make sure the kids sit quietly and watch the performance on the large TV screen when it is not their turn to be on stage. Easy? Absolutely. Then she gave one last instruction. No cell phones. Kids should not be talking on phones or texting or checking Facebook. Seriously? Seriously. Just then I noticed that I'd left my phone in the car. My natural impulse was to run out right away and retrieve it. My phone is seldom more than 10 feet away from me other than when I'm in class. But then I thought, "Really? Do I need to go get it? If the kids aren't supposed to use their phones, and I'm supposed to be supervising the kids, I probably shouldn't be using mine either." Surely I can go three waking hours without my phone.

And so I did. But it wasn't easy. It's not so much that I needed or even wanted to text someone. Or even check my email or Facebook. I didn't. What surprised me was the almost constant impulse to do so. In the three hours I was there, I must have reached for my phone at least 30 times. It seriously paralleled a smoker reaching for his pack of cigarettes. Now don't get me wrong. I probably won't do anything different as a result of this experience. I still love my phone and the many wonderful resources it provides me. But I'm here to admit straight up to you all...

My name is Terrianne, and I am a cell phone addict.

Like a Man and "Little Girls"

Seth: I just ate a triangle peanut butter sandwich, yogurt, an apple, and a glass of milk.

Mom: Wow, is your tummy full now?

Seth: Yeah. But we don't say "tummy." We even learned about this in health class. We don't say baby words like "tummy" and "belly." We say "stomach." Like a man.

Mom: Got it.

Seth: Oh, and by the way, when Shulamith and Matt get children, I'm gonna call them little girls all the time.

**************************

Okay, seriously, I have no idea how those two ideas relate to each other, but Seth must see the relationship because that was our conversation with zero transition between the two topics. To clarify, Seth adores Shulamith's husband Matt, so much so that he refuses to get his hair cut until Matt does, which might be never. Who knows? Adoration aside, though, the two of them on occasion clash, and when Seth becomes particularly whiny, Matt tells him to stop acting like a little girl. Apparently, Shulamith and Matt's future children have this to look forward to as well.

Comfort

I would like to define comfort for you.

• A pillow, blanket, and soft bed or couch
• A Diet Coke
• An episode of "Prison Break"
• Fresh blueberry muffins

Just so you know.

Happy 18th Birthday

Yesterday was Eli's birthday. And it wasn't just any birthday; it was his 18th birthday. Eighteen - the age of legal adulthood. I always joke with our kids that, regardless of what the law says, they aren't really adults until they're fully self-supporting, which for our kids comes at some point later, once they're finished with missions and undergraduate degrees. Nevertheless, yesterday Eli joined his older three siblings as a legal adult with all the privileges and responsibilities attached. As he looks to the future, I think he feels a certain degree of angst, along with the excitement and anticipation. With college and mission right around the corner, who wouldn't? Change is scary. But Eli will do just fine. There is no doubt in my mind.

Eli is special in so many ways. For one, his sweet personality and infectious smile make him irresistible. Everybody loves Eli. As his mom, I'm completely biased, but he's one of the most balanced, well-rounded kids I know. He enjoys so many different things. He loves to sing and to make others happy through song. Same with piano. He also enjoys sports, particularly basketball, and can be quite competitive. I don't think there was a happier soul alive than Eli last week when the Skyview Ward won the stake basketball championship. He told me he almost cried. He also loves church and has a steadfast testimony of the Gospel. Yesterday, on his birthday, he spoke in Sacrament Meeting about how he plans to serve an honorable mission and one day be a righteous husband, father, and Priesthood holder. This talk completed the final requirement for his Duty to God award.

So Happy 18th Birthday, Eli! The future is yours. Can't wait to sit back and watch what the world has to offer as you make your incredible mark on it.

Becoming Utes!

It's for real. The sign is in the yard. The lock box is on the door knob. The house is on the market.

Wow.

When you talk about something, dream about something, for months and months, it feels somewhat surreal when it begins to become reality. We have been planning for about a year to sell the house and relocate to Salt Lake City, with definite plans solidified this past summer. Let me backtrack.

When we moved to Billings in August of 2004, we committed to stay here until Eli graduated from high school. He was just 11 then and headed into 6th grade. His high school graduation, or even Isaiah's for that matter, seemed far in the future. We were prepared to settle in and raise our "middle boys" in Billings, and that's exactly what we did. Looking back, I marvel at how those 6-1/2 years disappeared so quickly. In some ways, it feels as if we just moved here. We have had so many good experiences and met so many good people, but we always knew we would not stay forever. We looked forward to what we called our "window of opportunity," when Eli would graduate and Seth would still be in elementary school one more year. It's hard for kids to move once they're in middle or high school. Our window of opportunity is now.

Originally, we weren't sure where we'd go next. I dearly love the Pacific Northwest which is "home" to both Gerald and me. I love the mountains and the ocean. I LOVE the rain! But alas, none of our children are there, and yeah, kids trump mountains and ocean and even rain. Our two older sons are still in college, and Eli's headed to college in the fall, so we have no idea where they will eventually wind up. Only Shulamith is settled, and she is in Salt Lake City. Isaiah is currently there too! Since I spend a ridiculous amount of money flying there to visit them pretty much every month, we decided Utah was the place to go. We've joked that if the Billing Logan Airport closes down after we move this summer, you'll know why. Possibly even the Denver Airport as well since I spend half my life there en route to SLC. We truly hope our other kids will one day join us in Utah. I suppose it's unlikely that they would all ultimately settle there, but I can hope.

So there you have the history which brings us to listing our house for sale two days ago. We're slightly behind our planned time-table; we intended to list the house "after the first of the year." It is indeed after the first of the year, but when we said that, we sorta meant January, not March. There were just a couple of glitches, things that needed to be done before we could list, including having our roof replaced after the storm last summer.

Selling a house is a very unfamiliar experience. We have sold only one home previously. That was in Mount Vernon, and in that case, by the time we had a competent realtor we were already living here in Billings. I have learned a great deal in the past week, and I expect there is lots more to learn. One thing I can tell you for sure: A house fit for showing is entirely incompatible with a house fit for living, especially when you have kids. Following instructions from our excellent real estate agent, we cleared out much furniture, packed up nearly all wall photos, and cleaned and double-cleaned every inch of the house. Our job now is to somehow keep it this way at all times. This, I'm afraid, will be easier said than done. After only two days, I find myself wondering how we'll ever keep the house in "show" condition constantly. I'm trying not to stress. Other people, even those with kids, manage to sell their houses while still living in them, right? Right. We can do it too.

So wish us luck as we set forth on a new adventure, leaving Montana behind and becoming Utes.