264. The Post-Bedtime Dip

At the end of a hard day I sit back and put up my feet, a bit of alcohol in hand.

This is the moment I have worked through this day to get to.

The tiny clink of the bottle on the table.

The smoothness as it slides down.

The buzz in my head when I've gotten just a bit too much.

Oh the little pleasures in life.

There's just nothing like sitting back and removing nail polish.

263. Ward Changes

For the last week I've been struggling with the knowledge that I will no longer attend church with most of my current ward (congregation). When and where you attend church is based on your geographical location. Some places a ward can cover several cities. Other places it's as small as a few city blocks. Because there are so many members of the LDS church (Mormons) moving into our area, several ward boundaries were changed to create a new ward. My neighborhood was one of only a handful that were taken from my current ward to the newly created one, to be joined with parts of another existing ward. 

Logically, I know I will be fine. The exact same lessons will be taught. The exact same schedule will be followed. The Sacrament will be administered in the exact same way. This is really not much different than moving into a new ward. I've done that so many times, I've lost track of how many I've been in. But of all the places I've lived and all the wards I've been in, I have never felt so at home, or so loved, as in this one with these people. I have never loved a ward so entirely. 

And yes, I know some of those people I love will be in my new ward. And I know I will still see these people regularly. I still live in the same city. I still live within ten minutes of all of them. We will still attend church in the same building, just on different schedules. I know this. 

But it doesn't mean my heart isn't breaking.

So for the last week I have been keeping myself busy so as not to think about this impending change. This morning was my last time attending with the Klein Oak ward. As of 6:00 tonight, I am now a member of the Willow Creek ward. This morning was also our Primary Program. This is when all the children ages 3-11 share short talks and sing songs about what they have been learning all year. For the last two years I have been serving in the Primary. I have been with these children as they learned and grew in the Lord. 

I couldn't join in today as the children sang "I Know That My Savior Loves Me."

I tried. I started. But my throat closed up with emotion as I heard their pure little voices testifying of Christ's love for them, His love for me. Fifty-four beautiful angels  sang of the Lord. "The love that He felt for His little ones I know He feels for me. I did not touch Him or sit on His knee, yet Jesus is real to me. I know He lives. I will follow faithfully. My heart I give to Him. I know that my Savior loves me."

I have heard this song dozens of times as they've practiced it throughout the year, but this time it was different. 

They were speaking to me. They were reminding me that I am going to be okay. My Savior loves me. He knows of my thoughts. He knows how hard this is for me. He knows of the love I feel and the happiness I have experienced here serving with these wonderful people.

I know that whatever comes will be for my good. He is watching over me. 

I am still scared. I am still sad. But I will be okay.

I know that my Savior loves me.

262. Pain

Probably okay

Annoying though

I don't really like this

Not the way to go

261. One Hour; Four Outfits

Pee and orange juice and bananas, oh my!

Child, you are so messy, but why?

Why do you rub your food in your hair?

Why does your juice go all over the chair?

Why is your whole diaper dry but I'm wet?

You are the messiest baby I've met.

260. Circle Face

Circle face got stuck in his chair

Couldn't even get the tires from his hair

Threw a buggy through the tunnel of death

And ran around til he ran out of breath

Circle face fell to the ground

Covered in rice that made no sound

Playing inside away from the sun

Circle face had too much fun

259. Haiku For The Martian

This book is so good

I have to stop writing now

So I can read more

258. Haircut

I got my hair cut this morning. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. But boy was I wrong. You see, Janey was at preschool when it happened, and I didn't think yo tell her I was getting it cut, so when I picked her up and she started to cry, I was a little surprised. 

Now, in Janey's defense, the last time I cut my hair was almost two years ago, she wasn't even two. The cut didn't phase her then. And my haircut today wasn't small. I chopped a good ten inches. 

But it wasn't that she didn't recognize me. After a few minutes of me questioning and her crying, I figured out that she wasn't scared OF me; she was scared FOR me. 

Janey's only real experience with haircuts is "Tangled." Spoiler alert: Throughout the whole movie, the importance of Rapunzel's long hair is a huge theme. Then, at the end, her hair is cut. Flynn Rider dies. Mother Gothel dies. Rapunzel cries. Rapunzel no longer has her magic. Now, the movie has a happy ending and all is well, but apparently the hair-cutting scene is very, very dramatic. 

So here I come, Janey's hero, and I've had my hair cut off. She was scared for me because she thought I was sad and in trouble, and hurt. She loves me so much that she was devastated that I had gone through an ordeal similar to Rapunzel's. 

It's taken me several hours to work this all out. Between sobs I deciphered "Rapunzel," "cut your hair," "hurt," and "scary." 

I was able to talk with her and let her know I was okay. I told her I wasn't hurt, that I was still me, and that I was still her mommy. I reminded her of other mommy's she knows who have short hair. I told her Mulan cuts her hair and is happy, but she's only seen it once, and she's never seen Snow White, so that was out. Seriously, guys, all the other princesses have long hair.

She calmed down enough that her cries turned into silent weeping. Then, about half an hour after I picked her up, we met my husband for lunch. As soon as she saw him she burst into tears again and ran to tell him about "mommy's scary." 

My husband and I ate our lunch and tried to get Janey to eat hers, but she was just too worried to eat. She just sat there looking at me with sadness. 

Eventually, we gave up on getting her to eat. We got distracted by Thomas throwing his veggies on the floor and talking about my husband's morning.  After about 15 minutes of sitting in silence, Janey whispered "Bolt." Then, a little louder, with us watching her, she said "Bolt. Bolt's friend has short hair. Bolt's friend is good!" By the end of her sentence, she was smiling. She had been sitting there the whole time trying to find a way to make sense of a happy girl with short hair, and had realized on her own that Bolt's owner, Penny, was a good, happy character who had short hair. 

After her discovery, she was able to eat. She had just needed to find someone in her world to prove that I really was safe.

She was still a little wary of my hair until naptime, but after she woke up, she decided that my "Penny hair" was not a bad thing anymore. 

It's amazing to me how much goes on in her little three-year old brain. There's so much that she doesn't tell me. I never would have thought she associated short hair with danger. I didn't know she could feel that much fear for my safety. 

I'm so glad I have my little girl to love me so dearly.