Making cookies is easy. Ten minutes tops (not including bake time). Simple to mix, stir and set.
With kids, it becomes 25 minutes. Arguing over who gets to stir first, who gets to add what egg and who gets to lick the spoon.
I wanted to kick them out of my kitchen, but then I realized. How will they ever learn if I always kick them out of the kitchen? Children are eager to learn and I was so hurried, by the world, not the time, that I almost forgot- it's me that has to teach them.
Even the simple things.
And the cookies were delicious.
Many years ago, I arrived home to a dish on my door step. As I approached I realized it was a cake. I love cake.
It was wrapped in plastic wrap and I could see the words "Happy Birthday" written on top. It was a beautiful jester, just one thing- It wasn't my birthday. In fact it wouldn't be my birthday for 6 more months. I opened a card- it was from my visiting teachers. I didn't have the heart to tell them, so I decided I would eat it. I cut myself a big piece of the chocolate cake and took a bite. There was a hair in it. So I fed it to the kids. I could eat it no more. Nothing personal, well maybe a little- I just have a thing about hair in food.
I made brownies tonight and thought back about this chocolate cake as I baked them in the same dish. I never returned it-oops. Happy Birthday.
I have a tattoo on my ankle. Many of you (if not all of you) have seen it. It says CTR. People who are not LDS ask me if it is C's initials. Um, sure.
Actually, it is my link to my little brother. About 11 years ago, I was not in the best place spiritually. I had just moved back in with my parents. I hadn't been to church in about 18 months, maybe longer. My brother moved into a smaller room to bunk with my baby brother, so I could have my own room. He was planning on leaving soon to the MTC and was only there a short time anyway. One day I happened to exit my bedroom into the hallway right behind him. I noticed something under his white shirt on his shoulder and pressed my hands on his back to get a better look. It was a tattoo! He jumped in pain as it was still fresh and a little sore. He showed me, then explained that mom and dad did not know, but that the stake president had already approved it. Well, as long as it was approved by the church, how could mom and dad not???
I promised not to tell, but I thought it was cool. I made some comment about how I wanted one, but really it was just an
in the moment thing.
A few days later, my brother came home from work and was all excited. He insisted we go somewhere. He took me to this scary part of town, I remember thinking that if we don't lock our doors, something bad would happen. He pulled in a parking lot to a bar and a tattoo parlor and then took a piece of paper out of his pocket. It was a very large scale of my soon to be tattoo. How could I possibly say no, we were already there. I chose my ankle, cause I was there with my brother and that is the safest place to put a tattoo when you are with your brother. We shrunk the image and he held my hand. It mirrors his, except he made mine a tad more girly with flowers. It was at that moment that I realized, it didn't matter how long it had been since I had been to church, and it wouldn't matter what people might say, He accepted me for who I was and I knew that my entire family did too. I didn't go back to church consistently for another year or two, but I did make an effort occasionally. This just leaves me a reminder that sometimes it's the little things that mean the most and that can make the biggest difference in peoples lives, even if we don't get to see the impact.
While living in Minneapolis, I had gotten a job as a receptionist at a high tech Internet based company. The CEO was a brother in our ward and probably doing me more of a favor than anything. A few months in to my job, he handed me a lot of business cards and asked me to update his address book online. about 30 cards in, I came across a name already in his book. I knew her. She was my next door neighbor back in Washington state. In fact, my parents were living in her parents old house.
My boss was in a meeting, but I was dying to know. There was a line outside of his office of people, waiting to see him. I cut in front of all of them. I won't be long I said. When his door opened, I walked in and very unprofessionally asked him how he knew her. He paused for a moment and then shared with me that it was his step sister. Of course! I had known of him, just never knew his name or any information about him. So, I moved 2000 miles away, only to work for my neighbors brother? Turns out he was raised in the house my parents were now living in.
He took me under his wing then. He challenged me, and I am a better person because of it. Completely worth the 2000 miles.
