can and do are two different things

Jan 30, 2021 by

Laughing SO hard right now.

Richard: (comes in with a sheepish look on his face) I’m wondering about this mystical grocery list Annesley says you have????

Me: (giggling) What is that look on your face?

Richard: Well, Annesley told me you have a list, but I just can’t imagine that is true and I don’t want to make you feel bad by asking about it.

Me: (full blown laughter) I DO! Here it is!

Richard: WHAT? You actually made a list?

Me: Yes! Here you go!

Richard: (completely dumbfounded) Wow, this is some serious organization.

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expiration dates

Feb 22, 2020 by

Annesley holding some half-n-half: Mom, is this good? I can’t tell.

Me: What does it smell like? What does the date say?

Annesley: It says April 14, but I don’t know what year.

Me, dying laughing: We may not be totally up to snuff on our kitchen maintenance, but there is no way we would have half-n-half in our fridge if it expired last April!

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need some brain cells? go elsewhere…

Aug 13, 2014 by

Confession: my brain does funny things. It jumps to insane conclusions and runs a mile a minute pretty much 24 hours a day. It also misses things that are fairly obvious to others…jumps completely over the obvious to some ridiculous explanation.

(Mom, want to share the license plate story?)

Well, while I was camping I had another of these crazy brain explosions. I have eyes that are a bit unique – one of them is near-sighted and one of them is far-sighted. I had lazy eye as a child and my right eye, the far-sighted one, still doesn’t work all that hot. Even though we did the whole ginormous-patch-covering-the-whole-side-of-my-cute-two-year-old-face-thing, it is still lazy as every and lets my left eye do all the work. While we were camping I went contactless quite a bit. My eyes needed a break and since I wasn’t driving or anything, I decided to let my eyes breathe. The few times I did put my contacts in, my vision was all screwy. When I would close my left eye, the whole world would go blurry. I would take out my contact, clean it, try to figure out what was going on, try again, and be surrounded by blurriness.

I knew my contacts weren’t switched because I could still see out of my left eye. If my far-sighted contact was in my near-sighted eye, I would be nearly blind, only being able to tell light and darkness.

So, my ridiculous brain jumped to the conclusion that my right eye had suddenly changed. Dramatically changed. Like maybe now that I am forty, it was becoming more near-sighted. Or maybe it was a million times more far-sighted than it had ever been before. I kept telling people, “Something is wrong with my vision. I can’t see out of my right eye!” and “I am going to have to see the optometrist right when I get home! Something weird is going on with my eye.”

Well, when I got home and attended church, I couldn’t see they hymn numbers or the clock or people’s faces, and I thought, “Oh my heck, it is even worse than I thought!”

BUT THEN MY BRAIN FINALLY TURNED ON TO RATIONAL THINKING.

When I took my contacts out, I took the left one out and put it in the case. Then took the right one out and put it in my left eye and VOILA, I could see just fine out of my left eye.

So, I had somehow taken two left, near-sighted contacts with me instead of one of each. And instead of thinking it through like a logical person would, my brain jumped to the crazy conclusion that somehow, overnight, my far-sighted eye had dramatically changed.

Yes, my brain is full of crazy sauce. It makes the adventure of living with me a gazillion times more zesty.

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one year later and wiser, too

Feb 25, 2013 by

one year later and wiser, too

Wednesday, February 20 marked the one year anniversary of my labral tear (if you would like to read the whole story of my injury, here is the archive of all the hip posts). I wanted to commemorate this time…I needed to commemorate this time to bring me some sort of okay-ness about having a whole year pass by and me still being injured. For the past week or more I had been living in a deep, dark hole of despair that year after year after year will pass by and I will continue to have hip pain, continue to be unable to do the things I yearn to do, and continue to be unable to have a baby.

So, on Tuesday I made a decision to cut my hair. If I was feeling frumpy and grumpy, I figured, at least I could look cute on the outside. Then I decided to throw a Hippie Party for myself and as many friends as could come. Then I decided to attend the temple.

All good choices, but I couldn’t figure out how on earth I would have the energy for all of them. Somehow it all worked out. Tuesday I was able to get in with my friend Becky’s stylist at the very last minute and she did a great job cutting my hair while I propped myself up in her chair on two large pillows. Wednesday I attended the temple and had a precious experience with the Lord. Thursday a whole gang of hippies devoured seven PARTY size gator bites.

It was exactly what I needed. I needed to tame my hair, re-covenant with the Lord that I was still committed to doing the work He has asked me to do with my ancestors, and laugh myself silly with my friends.

I am feeling much more at peace about being at the year mark and still being injured. I am learning to accept that this may be my life. I may always have this hip injury and the resulting pain and inability to do all the things I want. I am not thrilled at that idea, but I am learning to have some measure of peace about it.

I have learned a lot over the past year. Lessons I want to remember forever…lessons I don’t want to try to remember, but instead hope they have become part of my soul and will serve me for the rest of my life.

  • God knows me.
  • God loves me.
  • My Richard is full of love for me and will do anything to help me.
  • My children are strong.
  • Pain is a humbling affliction.
  • Pain turns me to the Lord.
  • Pain gets really old, really quick, changes perceptions and behaviors, and I need to have compassion on others who are hurting, physically or spiritually.
  • Laughter is good for my soul.
  • We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings having a human experience.
  • God can heal me. My job is to trust Him.
  • My ancestors know me.
  • My ancestors love me.
  • My family of aunts, uncles, and cousins is amazing and full of support and love for me.
  • Healing is a process, both physically and spiritually.
  • The power of God is real.
  • Priesthood blessings can and do work miracles.
  • My support network of friends and family is absolutely wonderful. When I think back on the past year of service I have been given I am completely overwhelmed with tears of gratitude. I have been fed, clothed, driven, held, prayed for, loved, cleaned for, hugged, and anything else I have needed for the past twelve months. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Every single act of kindness has been recorded in my heart and has got me through many dark days.
  • Immersing myself in the word of God brings peace.
  • Spending time in the temple brings joy.
  • Reality is not always what it seems to be.
  • Some things are unexplainable with our mortal minds.
  • Miracles happen. Daily.
  • Clean sheets can transform me.
  • Life goes on in spite of what is going on in my individual life.
  • Little things make a big difference in my ability to cope. I want to be one of those little things for others who are struggling to cope as well.
  • Jesus’ atonement is the only thing I really, really need. Coming to depend solely on Him is what I am here to learn.
  • The covenants made in the house of the Lord change souls.
  • Love always wins.
  • God is teaching me and will continue to do so so I can grow in His ways.
  • Living in the moment is a much better plan than living in fear of the future.
  • There are seasons in our lives. I can learn and grow in each season of my life instead of wishing to be in a different season.
  • Teaching my children is a precious stewardship.
  • My marriage is a gift from God and I need to treat it as such. Richard is such a special treasure and I am blessed beyond measure to have him as my eternal companion. His love for me has created in me a new being and enabled me to fully trust God and give Him my heart.

Now for some pictures from our awesome Hippie Party. Everyone dressed up as a hippie (except for Joy, who is dressed up as a Scout, having rushed over from Den Meeting!) wrote on my poster board, laughed hysterically at the memories of this past year, and ate loads of delicious gator bites (little potatoes cooked in some secret manner and covered in cheese AND bacon – I don’t eat pork, but on gator bites I thoroughly enjoy the bacon – and then dipped in gator sauce). So much fun! Every time Kat and Jessica share the pee incident on the MRI trip, I die laughing. They are so, so funny. Now, these pictures are pretty funny…please laugh and give yourself a little joy. And yes, I know I look ridiculous…and my shirt makes me look pregnant…or maybe I have really gained that much weight in the past year…who knows?

2013-02-21 21.19.20

Yes, it is blurry, but I love it so much. Kat and Jessica are dying that I am so loud and flamboyant.

2013-02-21 21.18.11

A lot of our group, but not all…

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2013-02-21 19.55.43

Sherry

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Gary and Kari (if you are local and need your car cleaned, Gary is amaze-balls!

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Just ignore all those red eyes, I will fix them later…I love this photo of Sarah, Kat, Jess, Amy, and moi.

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Jess and Amy

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Everyone wrote love notes to me – thank you, your words bring me so much joy! Yes, I have awesome friends…

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Then Keri gave me the most beautiful green (my favorite color of the moment) wooden bowl that her husband made. She shared some lovely thoughts with me about knots and nots and strength and beauty and filled my soul with her wisdom. I could listen to Keri and her heart-shaped words every single day.

Ready for the superhero moment? Some secret someone stole my bill for the seven party-size gator bites and PAID for them all! How fun is that! Whoever you are, THANK YOU! You totally made my night!

Thank you to everyone who has helped me this year. Thank you for your prayers, your time, and most of all, your hearts. I don’t think I could have gotten through this year without everyone’s love – it has made all the difference.

I love you all!

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a new do

Feb 19, 2013 by

a new do

This morning I wrote to my friends and said “Sooo, I have been feeling dumpy, lumpy, frumpy, and grumpy. I am thinking of getting my hair done like this…including the color. Thoughts? Am I pixie enough to pull it off or is my face shape all wrong? Or am I just too old to be cute anymore and I need to start looking at matronly styles? If so, what are your suggestions?

Here is the hair cut I was considering…I am in love with it. I love everything about it. The cut, the color, the girl’s beautiful skin. Couldn’t I just pay someone a bajillion bucks to transform me into this?

My friends responded with encouragement and tips on color (keep it dark, they all said) and suggestions for stylists since this NEEDED to be done today and my darling stylist, Mikelle, has moved herself four hours away from me.

Jessica, however, gave me a whole earful of helpful advice. I can’t stop laughing hysterically over it and must share it with you all because you might need some hair help (matronly OR not) just as badly as I do.

“Top L-R: 1. The first one is always nice, you don’t even need a clip on hair wig to create the minimal, conservative beehive with flip. 2. For the next one, you’ll need a perm, but just think of the low maintenance. And you’ll have a soft pillow wherever you go. 3. This one is just perfect for the younger mother, just crossing over into matronly-dom. All you need are some side wings and some light as air, teased bangs. 4. I know lots of moms just love the Donny Osmond helmet head. It’s a great option, and keeps your forehead and ears warm through the winter.

Middle L-R: 1. The queen of all matrons everywhere. What could be more classic? 2. The wanna-be queen of matrons everywhere. All you need is a pixie with a mullet. Hot diggity dog. 3. An impressive beehive always says ‘matriarch’ to me. 4. I had this haircut when I was six. My mom must have gotten confused, because surely donut-heads are only for mothers of advanced age.

Bottom L-R: 1. Lucy and Ethel. Matrons everywhere still copy this hairstyle. It requires a weekly trip to the salon to sit under the heat, and then sleeping carefully on a satin pillow in a hairnet. Perfect for your active lifestyle. 2. When all else fails. 3. Because his lipstick and hint of some denim apron something or other makes me laugh.

So. Just pick one of those, and I’ll get you a floral housecoat and pink fuzzy slippers and you’ll be all set to sail into your old, matronly, non-cute world. Since you’re only what, like a year older than me, I’ll prepare to retire my rainbow assortments of jeans and prepare to crop my hair as well. Perhaps I should do the Mrs. Brady since I’ve already got the mullet length. Does this mean we’re signing up for Bingo next year?

All silliness aside, including your email, how could your face shape be wrong? That looks just like the a-line cut you and I both had. I love your hair dark, too, but I’m biased. Whatever makes you happy, and that haircut is cute on both of us, Annesley and B. agree, remember?”

Isn’t she the funniest person ever? Oh, she brought a smile to my face and made me not feel so lumpy, dumpy, frumpy, and how could I ever be grumpy for long when she is around?

Well, it is now cut…not colored…though I really want to highlight the heck out of it just like in the original picture. Here are the pics…taken on my Mac in terrible lighting and a messy school room in the background.

I guess my hair is too thick to pull off the wispyness of the original, but this is an improvement over the lifeless, heavy look I have been sporting for the past few weeks.

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a few little funnies

Feb 14, 2013 by

Happy Valentine’s Day to all! This year our Valentine’s Day is going to be pretty low key. I have little gift bags I will be giving to my children and tonight Richard and I are attending Kat and Jen’s Pink and Red Party. It is guaranteed to be hilarious and delicious, both of which I need dearly in my life right now. What are you doing for your special love day?

The last few days have been full of some humorous events and I know I need more humor in my life and am assuming you need more in yours, so I will share them with you so you can chuckle.

Funny Story #1:

Monday night Richard and I drove down to SLC to get an old Subaru that we have been looking at for awhile. The jury is still out as to whether we made the right choice or not as there a couple of things acting up on it the last few days, but we are praying it works out for us and will save us a gob in gas. Anyway, the dealer we bought if from is a mechanic that buys cars with mechanical issues, fixes them up, then sells them. He has a small inventory so he leases part of a lot from another small dealer and together they share a office made out of an older home on State Street (a very busy street full of car dealerships) where consumers can sign paperwork and whatnot.

So, we get to the dealer after our 3+ hour drive and I have to use the bathroom, so we go into the office (house) and ask to use the restroom. That room was putrid. It looked like the urine in the toilet had been sitting there for months. The floor was filthy. The sink was filthy. The smell was overwhelming and I immediately started gagging and retching. But I also had to pee (and even more so now that I was gagging and retching). So I kicked the toilet seat down from its male-centric up position, both the seat and lid fell, so I had to lift the lid up with the toes of my shoes. And what did I find on the seat? Brown stuff. Who knows if it was poop or not, by this point I had to empty my bladder either on myself or in the toilet. I chose the filthy toilet. I squatted over it, not touching anything, gagging and retching the whole time and fully wondering if I would make it out of the bathroom alive. It felt like my lungs were being singed by the awful stench. I pulled my pants up, flushed with my foot, and rushed out the door to get some air.

It was that bad.

But the story gets worse.

Later when we were done with all the paperwork, Richard asked to use the restroom. The dealer told him where it was and said “Hold your nose” with a big chuckle. Then he turned to me and with another big chuckle said “There isn’t a woman here to clean it.”

I about died.

I am still dying.

There was a time, not that long ago, that I would have slugged any man who dared to say such an awful thing in front of me.

Now, it is a story for the record books and makes me laugh hysterically that anyone is trying to operate a business with that kind of bathroom. Those poor men need some humbling.

Funny Story #2:

On Saturday my friends took me shopping and out to lunch. It had been a long time since I had been out to a store and it was time. I needed to get jeans for Keziah who has been growing up and out for the last several months, some shoes for Fisher whose toes are hanging out the sides of his current pair, some Valentine’s Day gifts, return Keziah’s last Land’s End purchase, and most of all, see something besides the four corners of my bedroom. Well, after all the errands had been run and all the food eaten, it was about 10:30 at night. I finally decided that I needed to get a new shirt. Just one thing that I could feel cute in in my new larger-than-life body. Seriously, being so completely inactive for the past year has done me in. I am larger than I have ever been and feel dumpy, frumpy, and lumpy. So, Jessica swung into Walmart and we visited the Bella Bird section. Happily for me, there was a lot of stuff on clearance and I was able to pick up a few things that are pretty dang cute, including a new skirt, cardigan, and shirt combo. I wore this new, adorable outfit to the temple yesterday morning and that is where the trouble began.

The skirt is a just-past-the-knees full skirt.

Yesterday was windy.

Wind + full-skirt = skirt around the face, derriere showing multiple times situation.

I kept pulling it down, holding it down, but I couldn’t keep up with the wind.

While the girls were finishing up at the temple, I ran the two littles ones over to Great Harvest for a slice of bread. As we walked in, I held the door open for them so they wouldn’t get smashed to smithereens if it slammed on them in the wind, and right then my skirt blew up again. All the way up. Covering my head and breathing apparatus up.

In front of about fifteen people who were watching us come in the door.

Oh my.

What a choice. Do I let the door smash my Annesley or do I let go and cover my nether-regions?

Well, I tried to hold the door and recover my modesty and it was a sight to behold. Many smiles, smirks, and bursts of laughter fluttered around the store. To make matters worse, as we stood in the sample line gusts of wind would blow in whenever anyone entered the store and wouldn’t you know it, my skirt would blow right up again!

By this point, I knew I couldn’t make it through the day in this skirt, so we drove to Walmart and I found a pair of jeans that fit (on the first try even!) and are made of some super-snazzy slimming inventions that I think totally worked their magic. If you need some super-snazzy slimming pants and can’t afford the magic in Not My Daughter’s Jeans, you should check out these Lee Riders. Anyway, Annesley and I tried them on in the dressing room and I kept them on because there was no way I was going back into the wind in my flip-over-my-head-skirt. The ninety-year-old Walmart worker insisted on removing all the tags and stickers from my pants while they were on me, walking me up to the register, and announcing to the sales clerk “This woman is buying these pants and is wearing them out of the store. Please check her out now so she is not reported for theft.”

Oh my. So, so funny.

Funny Story #3:

Annesley crawls into bed with me this morning and says “Happy day! It is finally here! It is Valentine’s Day! Happy, happy day!” Then she rubs my back for awhile until breakfast is ready. After breakfast she says “When will the presents be here?” I say “What presents?” and she responds with a long lecture, “Mom, the holiday presents! That is what holidays are about and we always get presents on holidays and when will they be here? You always give us presents. I think they will be here at night because they are not here now and Papa is not here now, so they will be here later when Papa is here.” I pulled her into my arms and said, “Oh honey, holidays are not about presents, holidays are about love. I love you and I am going to hold you and hug you for Valentine’s Day.” To which she responded “I love you being my mama.”

She is so funny. I could listen to her all day long. I think I will go get their presents ready now and surprise them with their little goodies at Morning Devotional.

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the hair

Feb 8, 2013 by

We all need some comic relief, right? Well, I have some good news for you. One look at the picture below and you will be giggling up a storm.

Here is the background:

This pic was taken when I was either a Junior or Senior in High School back in the last 80’s and early 90’s when hair was big and bangs were high. I have always been blessed with a lot of hair and, of course, fluffed my thick tresses to their utmost potential. I had a little curling iron and would spend hours curling every strand…what was I thinking? And how on earth did I have that much time?

This pic is my mom holding my school pic…so excuse the fingers and crookedness and grainy-ness.

Prepare yourselves for huge fits of laughter.

Here you go.

Are you ready?

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Oh, my goodness. Every time I see it I laugh so hard. That is some huge hair. Notice how it is nearly touching the outside of the picture? Did you laugh out loud? Please do. Give yourself the gift of laughter at my expense. It is my gift to you, ha-ha.

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oxes and meese

Sep 17, 2012 by

I am working on cleaning out my email box (started with 25,000+ emails) in an attempt to save my computer from dying and I found this hilarious poem on the crazy English language. I can’t wait to read it to Blythe and Keziah – they will die laughing!

ONLY THE ENGLISH COULD HAVE INVENTED THIS LANGUAGE

We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England.
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing,
grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?
Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns
down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out,
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

And, in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother’s not Mop?

(I would like to add that if people from Poland are called Poles, then people from Holland should be Holes and the Germans, Germs.)

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enfp

Sep 16, 2012 by

This is hilarious! Last night for Amy’s birthday party she had us take a Myers-Briggs Type Indicator Test. I haven’t taken one for quite a while and couldn’t really remember much about my type. So, we took our tests and read the results and then laughed ourselves silly.

Mine was spot on. SPOT ON. Anyone who knows me will see me loud and clear in the description below.

The Inspirer/Mentor:

ENFPs are both “idea”-people and “people”-people, who see everyone and everything as part of a cosmic whole. They want to both help and to be liked and admired by other people, on both an individual and a humanitarian level. This is rarely a problem for the ENFP, as they are outgoing and warm, and genuinely like people. Some ENFPs have a great deal of zany charm, which can ingratiate them to more stodgy types in spite of their unconventionality.

ENFPs often have strong, if sometimes surprising, values and viewpoints. They tend to try to use their social skills and contacts to persuade others gently (though enthusiastically) of the rightness of these views; this sometimes results in the ENFP neglecting their nearest and dearest while caught up in their efforts to change the world.

ENFPs can be the warmest, kindest, and most sympathetic of mates; affectionate, demonstrative, and spontaneous. Many in relationships with an ENFP literally say, “They light up my life.” But there is usually a trade-off: the partner must be willing to deal with the practical and financial aspects of the relationship, and the ENFP must be allowed the freedom to follow their latest path, whatever that entails.

As an ENFP, your primary mode of living is focused externally, where you take things in primarily via your intuition. Your secondary mode is internal, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit in with your personal value system.

ENFPs are warm, enthusiastic people, typically very bright and full of potential. They live in the world of possibilities, and can become very passionate and excited about things. Their enthusiasm lends them the ability to inspire and motivate others, more so than we see in other types. They can talk their way in or out of anything. They love life, seeing it as a special gift, and strive to make the most out of it.

ENFPs have an unusually broad range of skills and talents. They are good at most things which interest them. Project-oriented, they may go through several different careers during their lifetime. To onlookers, the ENFP may seem directionless and without purpose, but ENFPs are actually quite consistent, in that they have a strong sense of values which they live with throughout their lives. Everything that they do must be in line with their values. An ENFP needs to feel that they are living their lives as their true Self, walking in step with what they believe is right. They see meaning in everything, and are on a continuous quest to adapt their lives and values to achieve inner peace. They’re constantly aware and somewhat fearful of losing touch with themselves. Since emotional excitement is usually an important part of the ENFP’s life, and because they are focused on keeping “centered”, the ENFP is usually an intense individual, with highly evolved values.

An ENFP needs to focus on following through with their projects. This can be a problem area for some of these individuals. Unlike other Extraverted types, ENFPs need time alone to center themselves, and make sure they are moving in a direction which is in sync with their values. ENFPs who remain centered will usually be quite successful at their endeavors. Others may fall into the habit of dropping a project when they become excited about a new possibility, and thus they never achieve the great accomplishments which they are capable of achieving.

Most ENFPs have great people skills. They are genuinely warm and interested in people, and place great importance on their inter-personal relationships. ENFPs almost always have a strong need to be liked. Sometimes, especially at a younger age, an ENFP will tend to be “gushy” and insincere, and generally “overdo” in an effort to win acceptance. However, once an ENFP has learned to balance their need to be true to themselves with their need for acceptance, they excel at bringing out the best in others, and are typically well-liked. They have an exceptional ability to intuitively understand a person after a very short period of time, and use their intuition and flexibility to relate to others on their own level.

Because ENFPs live in the world of exciting possibilities, the details of everyday life are seen as trivial drudgery. They place no importance on detailed, maintenance-type tasks, and will frequently remain oblivous to these types of concerns. When they do have to perform these tasks, they do not enjoy themselves. This is a challenging area of life for most ENFPs, and can be frustrating for ENFP’s family members.

An ENFP who has “gone wrong” may be quite manipulative – and very good it. The gift of gab which they are blessed with makes it naturally easy for them to get what they want. Most ENFPs will not abuse their abilities, because that would not jive with their value systems.

ENFPs sometimes make serious errors in judgment. They have an amazing ability to intuitively perceive the truth about a person or situation, but when they apply judgment to their perception, they may jump to the wrong conclusions.

ENFPs are basically happy people. They may become unhappy when they are confined to strict schedules or mundane tasks. Consequently, ENFPs work best in situations where they have a lot of flexibility, and where they can work with people and ideas. Many go into business for themselves. They have the ability to be quite productive with little supervision, as long as they are excited about what they’re doing.

Because they are so alert and sensitive, constantly scanning their environments, ENFPs often suffer from muscle tension. They have a strong need to be independent, and resist being controlled or labelled. They need to maintain control over themselves, but they do not believe in controlling others. Their dislike of dependence and suppression extends to others as well as to themselves.

ENFPs are charming, ingenuous, risk-taking, sensitive, people-oriented individuals with capabilities ranging across a broad spectrum. They have many gifts which they will use to fulfill themselves and those near them, if they are able to remain centered and master the ability of following through.

Oh my good heck! How many times have I been told I see patterns and connections that others don’t see? See everything as part of a cosmic whole, yes, ma’am, that is me. How many times have I decided I need to save the world? How many times have I NOT finished a project? How many times have I said “I don’t understand how to make myself do mundane, maintenance-type work, it makes no sense to me!” How many times have I said “But what does it mean? I can’t move forward until I know everything about what the meaning of this is!” How many times have I rebelled from a schedule? Schedules of any kind make me feel as though I have a 400 lb. gorilla sitting on top of me holding a pillow over my face. World full of possibilities and going after all of those possibilities with passion and spontaneity? Yes, yes, and yes.

So funny! I am not as unique as I thought!

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stuck?

Jan 11, 2011 by

Oh my!

I just watched this as part of my LEMI training and it cracked me up.

Then it made me think.

And I invite you to let it do the same for you.

How am I stuck?

How are you?

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jonah – the cutest version ever

Nov 15, 2010 by

If you need to smile, laugh, renew your faith in goodness, remember God’s love for you, or just want to start your day off on the right foot, go watch this video right now. You will love it!

It sure brought back memories of when Blythe gave talks like that!

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the pain of being me

Oct 5, 2010 by

This is a tad bit mortifying to share because it so clearly illustrates the rapid fire insanity that goes on inside my brain on a pretty much daily basis.

Saturday we were blessed to be able to go to SLC and attend General Conference. Afterwards we went to our favorite Old Spaghetti Factory with my mom and had Birthday Dinner for Miss Keziah. After that mom and all my children persuaded me to drive to Logan and see Baby Easton. I didn’t really want to go. I wanted to go home and see my husband. I wanted to be in my own bed and sleep soundly. I wanted to watch conference in my own home with our own traditions. I didn’t want to impose myself and four children on a brand-new adjusting mother. I didn’t want to add any time to my drive home. But, I did want to see Easton and my children were dying to see him. So, we went.

By the time we got there, I was ready to scratch my eyes right out of my head. I needed to take my contacts out pronto. I ran to Wal-mart to get some contact solution and Mikelle asked me to pick up some milk. Once there, the craziness set in. I decided we should probably spend the night since it was already around 8 p.m., so then I thought, “I should get some food for breakfast. I should get some yogurt.” Wal-mart does not have the healthy yogurt I like to buy, so I had to read the labels of every single container of yogurt. Then I thought, “I should get some frozen fruit to put in the yogurt, everyone will like that.” On my way to the frozen fruit, I passed the cereal aisle. I thought “Maybe I should get a big bag of cereal to make sure everyone has enough to eat in the morning and there will be two choices of breakfast food.” More price comparisons, more ingredient comparisons. I finally gave up trying to buy something healthy enough for me to feel good about and just tossed some Frosted Mini-Spooners into the cart – 43 oz. bag for $5.46. Then I headed off for the frozen fruit.

Right before I got to the frozen fruit section, there was a huge display, filling the center aisle, of giant bags of cereal, the same cereal I had in my cart, but in 50 oz. packages and priced at only $2.50! Overcome by the thought of saving money, I put a bag in my cart and got rid of the 43 oz. bag. Then, I went back and got 5 more bags. I thought “What a price! Yes, it is terrible for you, but it will come in handy on days when I am at births or sick or something. My children will think it is a great treat!” Forgetting about the frozen fruit, I made my way to the checkout. I only put one bag of cereal up with the milk, yogurt, contact solution, and measuring tape (to measure Easton) and told the cashier, “I have six of these.” After paying, I went to the suburban and upon loading everything up, I counted only five bags of cereal. I thought, “Hmmm, I must have left the one I gave to the cashier at the register. I’ll run in and get it.” I started walking in and then thought “Remember those magnets you bought last Christmas that you didn’t get charged correctly for? Just leave the bag of cereal and that will pay Wal-mart back for the magnet mistake.” So I turned around, walked back to the suburban, got in and drove away. I drove clear out to the street and then thought “What if the cashier stole my bag of cereal and is keeping it for himself? Wal-mart won’t be benefited by my $2.50. I must right this injustice!” I drove back to Wal-mart and headed into the store. Then I thought “What if somehow the cereal is in the bag with the yogurt and contact solution? I better make sure I didn’t miss it.” What was I thinking! This is not even remotely possible, the cereal bag is twice the size of the Wal-mart bag! So, I walked back to the suburban and searched once again for the missing bag. Certain that it wasn’t there, I walked into the store with my receipt, showed it to the greeter and went and talked to the cashier. I told him I paid for six bags, but only had five and asked him if I had left it there. I could tell he was absolutely clueless about what I was talking about and decided he had not stolen my bag of cereal. He told me to go get another bag from the display. I did so and then as I walked out of the store, I wondered if I should go put it back to make up for the magnet incident of nearly a year ago.

On the way back to Mikelle’s I called Richard to tell him the ridiculous story and as I reached down to plug my phone in, my hand hit a pointy bottle…yep, a bottle of contact solution was in my vehicle the entire time! I didn’t even need to go to Wal-mart in the first place!

If this isn’t insanity, I don’t know what is.

p.s. The good thing about all of this is that I was really supposed to go to Mikelle’s. When I got back to her home after the crazy Wal-mart trip, she was starting to get sick. Within a very short while, her fever was up to 104 F and I knew she had mastitis. I was able to treat her for it and help her feel better after a few hours. I don’t know what she would have done if I wasn’t there because she was fairly delirious and had no idea what was wrong with her or what to do about it.

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ya wanna know why i’m so nuts?

Apr 16, 2010 by

I was raised by this woman.

This post says all you ever need to know about why I am crazy.

Actually, as you probably know, I adore my mother. We talk between five and ten times a day. We laugh so hard we pee our pants. She is a fabulous grandma. She is brilliant, creative, funny, devoted, long-suffering, determined, hard working, and self-sacrificing. She is simply wonderful.

In spite of all that she is also quite bizarre…and so am I.

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wild animal scare

Jul 29, 2009 by

Okay, so this post is going to prove how uneducated I am in the wild animal category…but I will allow myself to be humiliated by my ignorance to share with you the hilariousness of our day.

I was in the laundry room this morning when I heard a frantic chirping. I figured Bess, our dog, was chasing a bird and we needed to save it. I hollered to the girls to go rescue the bird and like the animal lovers they are, they ran outside to the save the poor thing. A minute later Blythe came running in yelling that it wasn’t a bird it was some fur-covered animal hiding behind a huge box on our back porch. Well, that made no sense to me, because it was definitely a high pitched chirping sound coming from the distressed animal and I didn’t know any fur-covered animals who could possibly sound like that. I called Richard and had him listen to the sound. I called my mom to listen. Both of them had no idea what it was, but my mom said I should call Animal Control and she declared “it would be just your luck to bitten by a rabies infested creature, and that is the last thing you need right now!”

Well, my rural county doesn’t have Animal Control, so I called the Sheriff’s office thinking they would have a recommendation of who I should call. I wanted to figure out what it was before we tried rescuing it because I didn’t want any of us to be attacked – but this high pitched chirping thing was really driving us crazy – so I wanted the answer in a hurry!

The Sheriff’s office said to call Fish and Game, but then the deputy started laughing and said, “I KNOW what you have! I can hear it and that sound is a rock chuck!” I don’t know how I have made it through 35 years of life without knowing that a rock chuck made a very annoying chirping sound, but somehow I have.

So, Blythe and Keziah and I went outside to rescue the rock chuck. We thought it was stuck between the box and our house. We tied up Bess. We got some long boards, brooms and the mop to use in moving the box. We moved the box a little, but the rock chuck didn’t leave. Slowly we figured out that the rock chuck wasn’t stuck, it was terrified. It was trying to hide from Bess. It didn’t know that we had tied Bess up and it was free to run away in safety. We tried to coax it out, to push it out, to kind of frighten it out…but no, it would not budge. It liked its little shelter and continued to chirp that crazy sound at us.

We decided to leave it alone and maybe it would just leave on its own when it felt safe again. After another hour of listening to that horrible sound, we decided we had to do something else. I worked up my courage and then went out and tried to move the box with a lot of grunting and straining. Finally, the box moved way out from the wall and when there was no more shelter, the rock chuck took off.

Yeah! No more chirping!

And now we know what sound a rock chuck makes and will never mistake it for a baby porcupine again!Frightened Rock Chuck

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