Hi, I'm Stephanie

 

 

 

  I love Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice so much that I decided to have five daughters and name the second one Elizabeth.  Like a modern-day Mrs. Bennett, I spend my days raising my girls so they will be happy and independent when they grow up – only I prefer that they make their money instead of marry it.  And if my youngest runs away to London with some loser at age 15, I will track her down and haul her home myself.  But I’ll totally do some sightseeing first.

 

Kira

 

The Guinea Pig.  Gives me hope.  My husband in feminine form, she just gets more fun.

Lizzy

 

 

 Energetic, smart, kind, and will argue her convictions to the death. 

 

 

 

Hallie

 

My Hallie Priscilla. Unique fashion sense, desperately wants to live in a purple house.  Loves skunks and fruit bats.

Sophia

 My girly-girl and lone lefty.  Charming, gracious, stubborn, preternaturally practical.  And ya, she and Hallie are identical twins.

Scarlett
Scarlett Bella, Bella-boo.  Becoming a daredevil. Spoiled rotten, practically perfect.

 
Mr. Man

My intensely private husband.  Hilarious, smart, compassionate, good. 

 

Joan Rivers on Housekeeping:

I hate housework.  You make the beds, you wash the dishes, and six months later you have to start all over again.

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Amen!

"I surely know that there is no role in life more essential and more eternal than that of motherhood.

"There is no one perfect way to be a good mother. Each situation is unique. Each mother has different challenges, different skills and abilities, and certainly different children. The choice is different and unique for each mother and each family. Many are able to be “full-time moms,” at least during the most formative years of their children’s lives, and many others would like to be. Some may have to work part-or full-time; some may work at home; some may divide their lives into periods of home and family and work. What matters is that a mother loves her children deeply and, in keeping with the devotion she has for God and her husband, prioritizes them above all else."

Elder M. Russell Ballard, "Daughters of God"

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Monday
Apr132015

Nursery Sabotage

Church was just "off" yesterday.  My first clue that they day would not go as planned came when my girls were all ready early.  That NEVER happens - what would Sunday be without a couple of lost shoes?

Well, we arrived to find our favorite bench unoccupied - weird.

Kira, who splits ward chorister duty with a young man, didn't think it was her turn to conduct, but I insisted it was, so she reluctantly went to the stand and sat down (her co-chorister didn't relieve her of duty, so I think I was right). She felt weird.

The brother who had been asked to give the opening prayer scooted up to the stand only after an enormous pause and a bishopric counselor getting up to say it.

The bishop asked for an extra sacrament hymn, seemingly on a whim - weird.

(We all understood the delay when the missing bishopric counselor rushed in on the third verse of the second sacrament hymn with half a loaf of bread.  I think the opening-prayer-sayer, who is in the YM presidency, was delayed because of the same reason. Later my husband/bishop told me he'd called the young man who was supposed to bring the bread - and talked to his mother - but the young man arrived at church without the bread.)

The ward organist was busy coloring with her small son and forgot to go play the intermediate hymn (until another lengthy, awkward pause).  Not weird - cute.

And then, weirdest and weirdest of all...

I got to nursery to discover that someone had changed the locks on our ward's nursery closet, and nobody in our ward knew a thing about it or had the key.

Unfortunately, it's not the first time someone's sabotaged our nursery.  Intentional?  Unintentional?  I cannot tell you.  About six weeks ago we arrived to find that someone had removed all of the large communal toys from the closet all four wards in our building use. Eventually it was discovered that the building's self-designated germophobe/neatfreak had removed the communal toys (after her ward was done for the day, but not ours) to clean them.  The toys were disinfected and returned.

But who, WHO on earth changes the lock on a nursery closet and doesn't tell anybody?  And are our toys and snacks still inside? We'll know soon, 'cuz I got connections.  That lock-changer picked on the wrong nursery leader.

Yesterday, though, it was "make it work" time, and my lovely assistant and I sweated through an unusual, difficult, but ultimately successful hour and forty-five minutes with only a few large toys.  No snacks.  No matchbox cars. No blocks, or kitchen toys, or floppy frisbees (the kids can't throw them but they like watching me).  We didn't blow bubbles or turn off the lights and play with our flashing bouncy balls, because they were locked up.

My guess is that somewhere else in the building, maybe even in the nusery room, a lock needed changing, and somebody picked the wrong one.  Since our door is labelled, this is still unlikely, but I can't imagine someone really has it in for our nursery kids.

What do you think? Have you ever heard of such a thing?

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