Letters to {Kallie}

My dearest, darling, daughter;

You are the joy in my life-the butter for my bread. I'm eternally grateful that you are part of my forever family.

However-

We have been battling your picky eating for the last year and a half. It's getting old. Really, really old. And we've tried everything. So-

I curse you and your future family. I curse you with one...no, TWO...picky eaters. This is no ordinary curse. Your children will not only refuse any and everything you put in front of them that doesn't resemble sugar, but they will sneak suckers and gum, defy every trick in the book, and drive you absolutely insane with worry about their health.

Now don't get grumpy about this! As I place this curse on you, I do so with all the love my heart can hold.

Good luck with that!

Love, Mom

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

I have this memory-when I was about 9 years old I had stayed home from school due to a sore throat. After a visit to the doctor we received a call later that afternoon, confirming my case was strep.

"Oh mom!" I moaned pathetically. I was quite dramatic.
Her answer: "You're fine!"

I don't know why I've always remembered that. It's not like it's a painful memory. I don't lie awake at night, wishing I could spill my guts on Oprah's couch, while the audience shakes their heads in sympathy. And yet it sticks out in my mind like it happened yesterday. To be honest, I don't remember a lot of sympathy growing up. I was raised that way-with a "Buck it up" attitude. I was never coddled. I'm the oldest; the guinea pig child if you will. All oldest children are, right? But I wonder if that plays into my shortcomings. Like, sometimes I think I could be more compassionate. I could argue that it's a choice-I could choose to be more compassionate. I will say I'm working on it. I'm improving. But am I where I'd like to be? Not even close. There were times I vowed I would show more sympathy for my kids, because maybe that was the missing link.

Today Kallie was, once again, spooked by some Halloween decoration. Today I had it. "Then go away from it!" I said. "You're fine!"

Gasp. You're fine? I say those words to her all the time, but for some reason today they had some insane grasp on my memory and all of a sudden I was 9 years old standing in front of my mom. And once again I realized; I'm teaching Kallie to "Buck it up". It scared me.

But then, I have a great mom. She's taught me a lot of things. Everyone loves her. She has a lot of spunk. She has a lot of passion. She's taught me the healing powers of chocolate. I know she loves our Savior. She's taught me what a prayer and a handful of faith can really do. And when it comes down to it, she's my best friend. And my "Press Forward" style of upbringing has come to my rescue several times. I found that I'm stronger than I thought I was, because that's the way I was raised. And (much to Jarum's chagrin) I'm an independent spitfire; sometimes it bites me in the you-know-where, but there are many times it has worked in my favor. I'm pretty sure I got that from my mom.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall.

I am my mother after all.

But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Discussions with a Surveyor

There are two things about me that don't seem to really match -
1. I despise telemarketers. Especially if they call me on a Saturday or Sunday.
2. I like doing surveys - to an extent.

Saturday I got a call from a man who asked me, in very broken English, if I'd be willing to take a SHORT, QUICK survey on fast food places in my area. I'm in the process of trying to be more kind to telemarketers. After all, they're just trying to earn money to feed their families, right? So I told him I'd be happy to help. Here are tidbits of our conversation.

(3 minutes into the conversation)
Telemarketer: Have you ever heard of Carls' Jr.?
Me: Yes.
TM: Arby's?
Me: Yes
TM: Bulim....???
Me: What??
TM: BUH-LIMPIE.
Me: Blimpie? Oh, yes.

(13 minutes into the conversation)
TM: How would you rate Taco Bell, on a scale of 1 to 5?
Me: What am I rating?
TM: Taco Bell.
Me: No, I know, am I rating the food, the service, the store, the value?
TM: All of it.
Me: I don't know, maybe a 2?
TM: A 2??
Me: Dude, it's Taco Bell. What do you want me to say? How much longer is this going to take? I have two hungry little kids and I've been on the phone with you for 13 minutes now. You said this was short.
TM: It is! It is! We're almost done! Just a couple more questions!

(20 minutes into the conversation)
TM: How would you rate Taco Bell's interior?
Me: A 2. (Uh-oh, stately Brooke is coming out...)
TM: How would you rate Taco Bell's value?
Me: A 3. (If this guy knew what was good for him, he'd hang up!)
TM: How would you rate Taco Bell's service?
Me: (That's it. Enter stately Brooke.) I guess a 2. I already answered this. Listen, you told me 7 minutes ago you only had a couple questions left. You really need to stop telling people that it's a quick survey when it's not. This is ridiculous, my kids are both yelling, and I need to go.
TM: But we're almost done!
Me: How many questions left?
TM: Just 2 more restaurants. (aka at least 10-15)
Me: Absolutely not. I'm done with this conversation. {CLICK!}

Augh! There goes my kindness goal. Do you think I was justified? I'd say I'd try harder next time, but there won't BE a next time. If I could call the guy back and apologize I would...I think. Maybe not. XO

Crying Wolf

You know that story about the boy who cried wolf? I wonder how the villagers felt when they found that the boy was, finally, telling the truth. Were they angry at the boy? At themselves? Did they feel guilt? I'm assuming they felt a little bit of guilt. I would.

My picky eater Kallie told me today that she wasn't hungry, her tummy wasn't feeling good. Waaah! She says that every morning to get out of eating something she doesn't want to eat. But then her stomach magically heals itself in record time as soon as she spots some cookies in the freezer. And she amazingly has the energy to run around and wrestle with her brother. So I've learned to no longer believe her sad tales of sickness. And after she realizes I don't believe her she'll sit down and eat some breakfast.

Today was the same. She sat down for breakfast, and after drinking some orange juice and taking four bites of a waffle, she threw up. Oops! I guess this was the day she was telling the truth. So I'm sure those villagers felt guilty, because I'm feeling pretty guilty myself. Sorry Kallie!

Making My Grass Greener

I just finished a book yesterday that has me thinking. Unbeknownst to me, it was, in a way, a marriage improvement book. No big deal-I'm all about improving marriages. This last year Jarum and I have been working extra hard at making our marriage rock solid. Like everyone, we have a ways to go, but we've come really far, and things are going really well. So well, in fact, that I tend to get the whole "All is well in Zion" attitude. Which leads to more slacking and less working. Because let's face it-marriage is work.

Anyway, back to my book. There was a quote in there that I'd like to get printed on a large poster and hang it above my bed, so it's the last thing I see at night, and the first thing I see in the morning. (Don't act like none of you had a Backstreet poster up when you were younger. I'm totally admitting to that.) So here's the quote.

The grass isn't greener on the other side; the grass is greener where you water it.

Whoa. My favorite thing about it-it's from some guy named Mel from a sprinkler company! So profound. And it made me think-am I watering my marriage? Do I ever compare my marriage, or even my husband, to others? At times I do. And then I thought about the things I could improve on. I think I'm critical of Jarum, without really meaning to. So I asked him if he thought I criticized him too much. "Nope", he replied. "Really?" I asked. "What about that time you got Chase ready for church and I didn't like the outfit you put on him?" He thought for a minute. "That didn't bother me though." Ya, I thought. But it bothers me. Isn't it more important that he was helping me out on a crazy Sunday? Does my son HAVE to match? I should've handled that different. I have a lot to work on.

It's a pretty personal topic, but I share it in hopes that others feel the same. And maybe it's something that I can work on with others. Like dieting, ya know? It's easier with a friend. The book had a great idea of having "Marriage Celebration" clubs-like a book club, only you share ideas, tips, and accomplishments in your married life. Maybe I'll start one. Because I really have a great husband. Open invitation, girls, who's in?

A Day to Remember!

So fitting that my first post on this blog would be an accomplishment I will always treasure.

I conquered the cinnamon roll.

Yes, dear cinnamon roll, I've won. I've figured you out. Ya know, I never understood why you and I didn't get along. You were fine with so many others, I didn't know what I did wrong. And I tried to be nice. But after 6 years of trying to be your friend I finally got angry and I admit, I started a little backbiting. I said some negative things about you. I know that whole "you catch more flies with honey than vinegar" routine, but I didn't care. And I didn't give up. Oh, you didn't know I was tenacious?

But I did it! I made a GOOD cinnamon roll. And part of me wants to play the sore winner side. Thoughts of "EAT THAT SUCKA!" are definitely running through my head, (and I ALMOST stuck my tongue out, with my thumbs in my ears and my remaining fingers wiggling.) But I'm going to be the bigger person. So I will just say, I welcome you. Oh, and I apologize for the mean things I said. I look forward to years of brown sugar swirls, vanilla icing, and sticky fingers.

(What, you think I'd be selfish and not share? Recipe below)

The BEST Cinnamon Rolls

1 1/4 c. warm water
1 1 /2 c. sugar
2 1/2 Tbsp. yeast

Add together and let set for 10 minutes. Then add-

1 1/4 c. melted butter (Hey, I didn't say they were HEALTHY!)
1 1 /4 tsp. salt
4 eggs
2 1/2 c. mashed potatoes
9 c. flour (1 c. at a time)

Knead until smooth, then let rise until double. Divide dough into two equal portions and roll each out into a large rectangle. Spread with softened butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon. (I don't use measurements for these, so...) Roll them up, cut them into 1 1/2 in. pieces, and let them rise a 2nd time, until doubled. Bake at 400 degrees for 15-16 minutes.

Enjoy!
XOXO