Show me the money!

Ok, enough talk about disease. Yech, so depressing. Let's talk about something everybody loves-MONEY! The other day, while sitting around at the bank, waiting for DH to finish up working out our new mortgage stuff and trying to keep my child from destroying everything in sight out of frustration and boredom (really, banks do nothing for 4 year olds), I came across the book _Rich Dad, Poor Dad_. Now, this was a particularly swanky bank, as banks go, and they had a little sitting area with some books on a shelf, obviously for your perusement. (Is that a word? It sounds like a cross between "amusement" and "peruse", and I think I just made it up. Oh well. I'm gonna let it slide. I guess I could go one step farther and say "Perusement amusement," but then I would be really outside the lines of appropriate grammar, and the grammar police would surely show up and beat me with their danglng participles.) And really, how many banks do you know have little sitting areas with a small library? All they needed was a basket of fruit and some Caribean music piped in, and I would be hard pressed to say whether we were at a financial institution, or some tropical island resort! Well, ok, not really, because the whole, "Welcome to Bank Of America, can I help you?" mantra that was repeated loudly every 3 minutes by the teller working the drive up sort of burst the fanstasy, but regardless, I just thought comfy chairs were fairly awesome when you are tired of life matters in general and just need a place to put your feet up while you watch as your child slowly melts down after days of househunting and boring meetings and starts hucking complimentary bank mints across the lobby. Good times, I tell you, good times. Ok, so in the midst of this blissful luxury, like I said, I came across this Dad book, and it's all about money. I didn't have much time to be perusally amused, having to dodge flying confections, as it were, but there were a couple of points that I caught in between mint missiles. Point number 1: The traditional lessons our generation was taught about money, education, etc, do not apply to our children's generation. No longer is a college education worth what it once was, and it is no guarantee to financial security in the future. I'm not sure I totally buy this one, but it's something to think about. Point number 2: Even if they did apply, our generation is woefully inept and neglectful in teaching our children how to properly manage money, leaving out serious basic info like "How to manage a credit card". Credit is so vital in today's financial world, people need to understand how it works. Given how much debt America is in, I could totally buy this one. Point number 3: Most people often say this about things they want but think they can't have: "We can't afford it". The author says a much better way of approaching life and managing money is not to limit yourself with this statement, but rather to substitute it with the thought, "HOW can I afford what I want?" That way, you start to think creatively about money, and you make your money work for you, instead of working for your money. I LOVE this idea of changing your thinking from, "We can't afford it" to "HOW can we afford it?" I haven't totally applied this yet, but it's definitely something that is sort of ruminating in the back of my mind these days. Especially since after my little taste of tropical island resort I got back at that bank, I've had a good hankering for the real thing. In all my reading about parenting, what we have to teach our kids, etc, etc, really, I'm not sure I've ever come across one that says that you should have serious talks with your children about money. And when DH and I talked about it, we realized that really, neither one of our parents did much in the way of educating us, beyond the whole, "A credit card does not mean you get things for free". Both my sister and I got into some minor financial trouble out of complete ignorance. I'd like to say I was a bit more with it--my trouble had to do with not understanding taxes, hers had to do with not understanding that an ATM will still give you money if you have overdraft protection even though you really don't have a cent in your checking account. Still, the problems could have been solved by some simple financial lessons from our father, who, ironically, is an extremely savvy businessman who has an excellent understanding of how the financial world works. So I ask you, did your family teach you about money? What are some basic traditional lessons that you learned that you think will not apply to our children's generation? Any ideas about how to introduce these lessons, and how to make them effective? And most importantly-anybody know how I can get to Hawaii, cheap, and which tropical resort is the best?
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A new blog

I have debated whether or not I wanted to post this on MMW, but I decided in the name of "raising awareness" I would pass on the address of a new blog dedicated to PKD, a.k.a. Polycystic Kidney Disease. Polycystic Kidney Disease is the most common genetic, life threatening disease affecting more than 600,000 Americans and an estimated 12.5 million people worldwide - regardless of sex, age, race or ethnic origin. In fact, PKD affects more people than cystic fibrosis, muscular dystrophy, hemophilia, Down syndrome and sickle cell anemia — combined. The blog is called Living with PKD. Who runs this blog, you may ask? (Deep Breath) I do. I was diagnosed with PKD 6 months ago, and haven't quite known what to do with it, really. Then I attended the PKD Foundation conference last weekend, and realized that there are few cohesive online support groups for patients with PKD. There are some, but not many, and no blogs that I could find. I'm lousy at fundraising, I stink at organizing walks, and I certainly ain't no "chapter leader", but I am good (read 'mildly obsessed') with blogging, and if running and maintaining a blog can help raise awareness, well, that's something I can do. I threw out the thought to a couple of folks at the conference, and they seemed to think it was a good idea. So, I started one. There you go. I probably will not blog about PKD here at Mommy Wars. I think this should remain a place where we primarily discuss issues facing us as women trying to raise our families in righteousness. But I felt that I would be remiss in my "raising awareness" duties if I didn't take advantage of an established readership to talk about PKD. Yes, ladies, I am bodly, shamelessly using you. Sorry. I don't expect that everybody here will actually be interested in a blog about PKD. After all, there are few things more depressing than reading about a disease you don't have. But, like I said, it's a start in introducing people to this very common yet largely unheard of condition. So, um, I guess this is the part where I say "Tell your friends", and especially if you know somebody with PKD. Maybe they will thank you for it.
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The Ultimate Goal

You've heard a lot about swimming these days. Sorry. Somebody warned me that if I put J on the swim team, it would take over my life. Sadly, she was utterly, completely, and totally correct, dang it. But it's been an interesting experience, joining this whole swim culture. Oh, and believe me, there is definitely a swim culture, complete with cliques, competitions within the team, and varying degrees of "pool moms". I suppose those kinds of things just happen generally when you get a bunch of people together for an activity. The moms are particularly interesting. And they are so varied in their approach to this swim team thing, it makes me ask the question: What is our ultimate goal? These moms have lots of different goals for their kids in respect to swimming. Like I said, some moms are pushing for the Olympics (seriously!), some are pushing for thier kids to have something they are good at and can identify with, and some are just hoping their kids will learn enough so they won't drown. It makes me think that this swimming model be extrapolated into life: Some parents want their kids to be at the highest tier of success, some parents just want their kids to be happy, involved, and satisfied with the best they can do, and some of us are just hoping our kids won't drown. As parents, what should our ultimate goal be with our children? I knew one woman who said that her goal was not that all her kids will be happy. That's too easy, she thought. Her ultimate goal was that her kids will all be independent and confident enough to handle whatever life threw at them. A noble goal, to be sure, but I thought she dismissed the happiness thing just a little too fast. But, then again, maybe happiness is overrated? So, what is your ultimate goal with your children? And maybe goals change along the way, too. Maybe there are some days that your goals are as high as the moon. And then there are days when we all just hope we can keep our heads above water, that keeping afloat is pretty much all we can manage. And that's ok, too.
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Frog Goggles

Summer is here, which for us means swimming. Lots of it. I actually put J on a swim team, which means practice every morning, as well as "practice" with mom in the pool afterwards, and then playtime in the pool after lunch, which means that we are averaging about 4 hours a day poolside. No joke--4 HOURS DAILY IN THE FREAKIN' SUN. Yeah, we've already gone through 3 of those not so cheap bottles of Neutrogena sunscreen I raved about, and we are all still pink all over. Not lobster red yet, but I even went out and bought an Aloe Vera plant, per Tracy's instructions, and we've used it. Twice. I am even (gasp!) sporting a watch line, which makes me want to run to the dermatologist to check for skin cancer. There is no such thing as a safe tan, and now I have a watch line--AACK! Ok, calming down now.... So actually, this post isn't really about sunburn, although that is a topic I could speak at great lengths about. (Clearly). This is about frog goggles. If you are fair skinned and grew up swimming, as our family did, you associate a few things with summers in the pool: sunburn (already covered, yes, move on), shiny, crunchy, green hair(it's true, blond hair really does turn a lovely shade of green from chlorine), and burning, bloodshot eyes caused by the chlorine in the pool, which also makes everything look sort of filmy and have halos around lights. J experienced this eye thing the other day. He said, "Mom, you look a little fuzzy and blue, and I can't really open my eyes". DH, Utah boy that he is, sorta panicked. I, on the other hand, grew up in LA, the land of backyard pools, and I knew exactly what he was talking about. So we made a quick trip to Target post haste to get that kid some goggles. Have you ever been to Target in the middle of the summer looking for water paraphenalia? I swear, it was like locusts had stripped the store. There was hardly a swim suit in sight, the only water shoes left were pink "water socks", whatever the heck that means, and the goggle section was just sad. Luckily, however, J had his choice, which was more than I hoped for as I walked past the consumer carnage on the way to the goggles. His choices were thus: black speedo goggles, shark goggles, or froggie goggles. After much deliberation, he chose the frog ones. I approved, we made our purchase, and set them out to be worn today. As we were walking in the pool, however, he said to me, "I hope the other kids don't think my frog goggles are weird. Mom, do you think they like frogs?" What? Who cares? They're just goggles, for heaven's sake! I didn't actually say that, though. I just said, "Yeah, everybody loves frogs. Your goggles are cool, don't worry about it." Some kids were peeking through the fence, messing around and stuff, and J stopped and said, "What are they looking at?" Then, in a panicked voice, "Are they looking at my goggles? What if they don't like my goggles?" Again, what? I assured him those kids weren't looking at his goggles, and proceded into the pool area. I then surreptitiously asked the coach to make a positive comment on J's goggles, which he did. J lit up when the coach told him he thought frogs were awesome, and seemed to visibly relax. After that, he was back to his old bouncy self, showing everybody his new eyewear and proclaiming their everlasting awesomeness. Thrice I ask you--WHAT? He's 4. He's a boy. They were GOGGLES. And he's already concerned with what the other kids think about his fashion choices. I thought I had avoided all this crap by giving birth to a person with mixed chromosomes. But no, apparantly absurd fashion insecurities are manifested by the male species as well. And, true to form, no amount of assurances from his mother helped. It took an outside authority figure to confirm his standing, to affirm his choice. He's now quite attached to the goggles, which I suppose isn't all that surprising. We left them at the pool this afternoon, and I had to trudge back there to get them, lest they get lost or stolen. Watching my son obsess about losing something new is actually not new to me--but I gotta say, this new fashion insecurity, coming from a kid who is usually perfectly happy to play in a size 6 Superman shirt while going commando underneath, is a little perplexing. And it was a little hard to watch him react more positively to the coach's thoughts about how awesome those little plastic reptiles were than to his mother's. Yes, I asked for it, I knew he needed it, but did it have to WORK? Any other thoughts on fashion crises with children under the age of accountability?
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Summer tips

Ok, we all know that summer is in full swing now, especially when you find yourself outside at noon and realize in about 5 minutes that you are dehyrdated, sweating, feeling faint, and suddenly want to be anywhere else than outside. Ah, love my air conditioning.... But we still have a long summer ahead of us, so I thought I'd share some handy tips I've learned along the way to make summer just a little easier so we can all enjoy the fun. Ok, first one. Peppermint oil can help poison ivy. I know, this sounds totally earth goddess goofy, but trust me, it works. J got poison ivy last week, (you know, since his mother failed to notice that it is growing in GREAT abundance in our backyard-duh!) and he started complaining at night, well past the hour when CVS would be open. I had heard of a home remedy that uses peppermint oil. Well, we don't have any pure peppermint oil, but since my husband is, yes, let's say it, obsessed with having a killer herb garden, we have peppermint growing in abundance too. I picked some leaves, crushed them into some olive oil, and smeared the whole thing on J's leg. I mean, can't hurt right? Well, not only did it not hurt, it really, really helped. His rash is far from gone, but it seems to be abating, and he doesn't complain of the itchiness anymore. And even if it wasn't poison ivy, the mint actually can be used for all sorts of skin issues, and it's free. I'm sold. Totally unrelated tangent that will surely turn into a threadjack later but that's ok with me: I've heard that a weak mint tea can help morning sickness. Not that I'm pregnant or anything, just wondering if anybody else has heard this, or tried it. Ok, tangent over. Tip #2. Spray on sunscreen. Up until today, I had only seen the expensive Coppertone and Neutrogena brand, which I have loved. They come in an aersol form, and can cover white bodies in a matter of seconds. And today I saw somebody at the pool using a generic Target brand spray--cha-ching, I'm totally sold on the cheap stuff, baby. Now, this is actually sort of opposite from the earth goddess herbal essence tip above, you know, using chemicals and aerosols and all (do CFCS still exist?) but we all have practically translucent skin that has been known to sport a serious sunburn after (I'm not kidding) less than a half an hour in the sun. If anybody knows of an herbal remedy that is as effective as sunscreen, let me know. Til then, I'll be spraying my family with this stuff, and staying happily white and burn free all summer. Yee-ha! Tip #3. Keep lemon wedges already sliced in a Tupperware container in your fridge. Lemon slices make a glass of water much more heavenly, and having the slices on hand is much easier than having to cut a lemon everytime you want to make your water glass fancy. Besides, by the time you cut up the lemon, you are too dehydrated to do anything else because it took you so dang long to cut it. Cut them when you have a moment, not when you are dying for it. It also makes it superhandy to use when you are cooking chicken on the grill. Just grab a wedge, squeeze it over the chicken, and voila, lemon chicken! Delicious and easy, and your family thinks you are a genius, which gives you brownie points towards a pedicure, which is a must because you are most definitely going to be spending time in the cute dollar flip flops you bought at Target at the beginning of the season, which are so fun but definitely hard on your feet, and you're the mom and deserve a foot massage anyway. Hooray! That's it. I'm out. Tell me your tips for getting through the summer, and pretend that you are telling me while we are sitting on my front porch on my imaginary comfy wicker chairs, (yes, they are on order, but sadly, only in my head!) sipping something delicious, admiring our pretty feet and watching our kids play happily in the cul-de-sac. Ah, I love summer! Oh, and don't forget the sunglasses!
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Nothing Bad to Report

I know we've been a little slow over here at MMW, but as I have been sitting here staring at the screen trying to figure out what to write, it struck me. Nothing. We're slow because there is nothing bad to report. No scribble disasters, no babysitting crisis, and no vomiting canines. What's a blogging girl to do? Of course, I realize that saying, "Hey, life is just too NORMAL these days" practically guarantees that tomorrow is going to be a helluva day that will provide me with loads to blog about (darn that karma, or, um, something...), but today, we are feeling pretty good. I mean, how can you not when dinner is grilled chicken, corn on the cob(also from the grill--delicious that way!), and fresh watermelon, and as you eat it all at twilight, you can see the fireflies in the backyard light up? Long summer days full of good food and lazy people have truly begun, and they can be glorious. My favorite things about summer: -Watermelon--oh, foods of the Gods! -Long days at the community pool: a free recreational activity that I don't have to prepare for, clean up after, or maintain. Can't beat that! -Gardens. Oh yes, ours is up and going, showing some good promise, and I am already planning what I will do with all of our fresh produce. Of course, the fact that DH planted 16 pepper plants and 15 cucumber plants may mean that I'll have to suck it up and learn how to can. I mean, how many salads can one family eat? -Busy neighborhoods. Everybody comes outside during the summer, and I always feel like summer is the time when a community comes together, whether it's a neighborhood barbecue, a softball game, or a party at the pool. During the winter, it's just too dang cold to bond. -Mowing the lawn. Ok, I know y'all are probably not with me on this one, but there is something about the smell of fresh cut lawn that makes me smile. I sneeze the entire time I do it, as I'm allergic to grass, but it makes me happy all the same. I liked it when I lived with my aunt and had a small yard to mow, when I lived in a town house and had an ever smaller yard to mow (it took perhaps 3 minutes to mow our little dot, and our whole block shared a mower because it wasn't worth it to buy personal mowers for all our little dots.) And then, of course, we get to compost all those beautiful grass clippings, which makes me feel even happier. Yes, we take compost very seriously in our family. What's your favorite thing about summer? (Cue sound track: Primary Song "Oh what do you do in the Summertime....)
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Raising an Optimistic Child

The Wiz was going to blog about this, as she recommended the book to me, but it seems that she got sidetracked (read: BlOGGERSLACKER!). She was reading the book _The Optimistic Child_, by Martin E. P. Seligman, and she and I were discussing it. Basically, this book claims to have the answers to safeguard children against depression and build lifelong resilience and optimism. Sounds pretty good to me. And I'm totally up for shelling out a coupla bucks if it will make me a perfect parent, no matter how ludicrous the claim. So, I bought it after my discussion with The Wiz. And I'm about 1/3 of the way into it (read: PROCRASTINATING FROM UNPACKING). I would highly recommend it to any parent or parent to be, and I want to share some of the more interesting parts I've read so far. There is more to it than this, but basically he says that everybody has a certain explanatory pattern about why and how things happen to them, and how pervavise the events are in their lives. A pessimist will tell you that every good thing that happened to them was because of something or somebody else, not because of something he did, but that every bad thing happened as a direct result of his actions, and that those bad things will always happen, i.e., a permanent condition. Pessimistic attitude: I got that promotion because the other guy they wanted left, but it won't take them long to see I'm not really good enough for the job. There was that one time when I made a mistake--I always screw things up! In comparison, an optimist thinks that bad things happen because things were stacked against them, and that good things happen because he worked hard and is talented, and that bad things are only setbacks, temporary obstacles that can ultimately be conquered. Optimistic attitude: Wow, I finally got that promotion after all my hard work! I didn't get it before because nobody was noticing me, but the boss finally figured out I am an asset. Of course, there was that one time I made a mistake, but I figured out the problem and got it resolved. It wasn't easy, but I did it. How does this translate into good parenting? Well, most kids will learn their explanatory behaviors from their parents. That's right--our kids will learn optimism or pessimism from us. And they learn not only from what we say about ourselves in front of them, (i.e, I'm always such a mess! I never do anything right!) but also what we tell them about themselves. Kind of a scary thought, isn't it? There is also some interesting stuff about familiar self-esteem talk we do with kids, and how often it isn't effective. Kids apparantly don't like to be told they did a good job when they know darn well they totally sucked. It makes them feel humiliated, not understood, and undermines their confidence and trust in the adult's perception and praise. Hmmm...another interesting thought. Any educators or parents have any experience with that? There is an interesting chart in the book about how to criticize preschoolers. I'd like to share that with you now: (and remember, the pessimistic way is the wrong way!) Permanent/Pessimistic: "What's wrong with you? You are always such a monster!" "I asked you to pick up your toys. Why don't you ever do what I ask?" Changeable, Temporary/Optimistic "You are really misbehaving today, I don't like it at all" "I asked you to pick up your toys. Why didn't you do what I asked today?" Global/Pessimistic "You've got your mother's knack when it comes to sports. I'm horrible too." "She never likes to play with other kids. She's so shy." Specific/Optimistic "You've got to learn to keep your eye on the ball." "Sometimes she has a hard time joining a group of kids." Internal and General/Passive and Pessimistic "You're not athletic." "Another C? I guess you're not an A student." Internal and Behavioral/ Active and Optimistic "You have to work harder on watching the ball meet the bat" "Another C? You need to spend more time on your studies." Sometimes the differences are subtle, but they are there. This list, and others like it, have made me really stop and think what I am doing or not doing to my child when I talk to him. Also, this kind of paradigm shift actually seems to be quite easy to do, once you get the hang of it, so I actually don't feel overwhelmed when thinking about how I can apply this to my parenting. I realize I make permanent statements about myself in front of J all the time. The other day, I forgot some tickets I needed, and I said, out loud, "I'm always such an idiot! I always forget important stuff." Such a little thing, and yet it says that I feel it is a permanent condition that I forget stuff. And I already hear J saying things like, "I'm not good at computer games. I can't do it." So my attitude is affecting him. But I really think we can change it, that it's not too late. After all, I'm trying to be optimistic! :) And I do recommend the book. It follows along some of the same lines of another favorite parenting book _Between Parent and Child_, by Heim Gringott. (I think I spelled that right!) With all of the parenting advice out there, it's nice to see two books actually talking about the same thing. Any other optimistic thoughts?
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Men's Secret Desire

I have figured it out ladies. I know what all men what. Yes, the secrets of the universe have been revealed to me, and I am now ready to impart my wisdom to you, O goddess sisters. All men, in their heart of hearts, want a truck. You know, a truck to haul stuff. I thought it was only my husband who longed for this powerful thing. He has jokingly talked about a pick-up since the days when we lived in Arkansas. He said it would make us blend with our other white trash neighbors. I told him that we didn't need a truck, the dilapidated van we drove that had the paint peeling off, scratches on the side, and a side door that fell off just as I was pulling into the driveway and which sat on our front lawn for a day was quite enough to help us blend in, thank you very much. And the 2 days the toilet sat in our front yard definitely helped dispel any remaining doubts our neighbors might have had about what kind of people we were. Yep, only quality people use appliances and car doors as lawn ornaments. Anyway, I thought it was a joke, really. I mean, a pick-up is not exactly a family friendly car, and gas prices being what they are, what the heck do we need a gas guzzling monster filling up our driveway? It wasn't a joke people. We now own a truck. But here's the astonishing thing. Even though this truck is like a thousand years old, and, as my cousin put it, "A bit boxy", DH loves it. But he's not the only one. My brother said, "Hey, you got a TRUCK? Where? I wanna see it!" And he and my nephew hightailed it outside to check out the truck. And you know what they said when they saw our cheap, ancient, boxy pick-up? "Cool truck." And they meant it. I visited my parents this weekend, and my mother, who said, "You can't drive this thing. You don't know how to drive a truck!" when we brought it home, has kind of resigned herself to the fact that her youngest daughter occasionally drives around in an automobile that can also carry 2 cubit yards of dirt (I know that because DH has already filled it with dirt, many times, to haul it into our garden. Yes, he's a man obsessed). But Mom is clearly not thrilled about the whole thing. Plus, she honestly thinks the truck is ugly as sin. My dad's reaction? "Cool truck." And he meant it too. He even said it twice. This is a man who thinks camping is another term for torture, who has never been on a pair of skis-- snow, water, or otherwise-- in his entire life, and who thinks badminton is an exhilerating sport. The most indoors person I know. He likes the truck. Our neighbor is thrilled. He said, "Yeah, we wanted to haul some dirt in for our garden, but I didn't know anybody who had a truck. But now that you're here...you know, I saw you all pull up in that thing, and I thought, 'Yes, a neighbor with a truck!'" And of course, you know what followed after that. "Cool truck." Cool truck indeed. The men in my life are going crazy over it. It's the strangest things I have ever seen, and yet, it seems to be a completely consistent reaction among the male species. Their secret desire. To move big piles of stuff from one place to another in a big motorized vehicle. Who knew. Anybody need to haul some dirt?
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The Hurricane Season

Our new neighbors had us over for dinner tonight. I'll bet you are thinking, Wow, nice neighbors. So are we. The food was awesome, too, so, you know, double bonus on that one. Anyway, during dinner, their son came up and asked for more batteries for his laser gun, a toy he was sharing with J, who I swear thought he had died and gone to heaven. "Oh, yeah, I don't think we have any more batteries," the dad said. "That's definitely something we have to get soon, especially before the hurricane season gets into full swing." He said it so casually, so lightly, to his small son. DH and I exchanged looks of mild panic. "Um, hurricane season?" I asked weakly. Yeah, folks, hurricane season. We've officially moved to a place where they prepare for hurricanes. In a word, holy crap. And we are woefully unprepared. Having just moved, we are still in a state of mild chaos, and of course we depleted our food storage supply before we moved, just so we wouldn't have to move so much food. Ok, so our food storage consisted of 2 extra bottles of ketchup and some dried soup, but hey, we downed it, baby! Well, I do think there might be some soup left, but at this point, I have absolutely no idea which box it is in, or even if it got packed by our movers. But hey, they did pack some wild and crazy things that surely one would think would intuitively be garbage, so, you never know. So I am appealing to you, Mormon Mommies, at least some of whom I am sure are the epitome of preparedness, and at least some of whom I hope live in hurricane or tornado prone areas. (Wait, that sounded kind of wrong. I don't HOPE that you live in a place where wind gusts could blow you into the land of Oz, but you know what I mean, right?) What should I do? What do I need? How am I supposed to adequately prepare myself for a situation with which I have had absolutely no previous experience? (Gee, it sounds a bit like preparing for motherhood, eh?) Do I stock up on batteries, giant flashlights, lots and lots of soup, extra propane for the grill, more bottles of ketchup, what? I'm seriously freaked out here, folks. Break out your provident living manuals, ladies, and let's get readin'!
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Tea Parties and Blessings

I went to a tea party today. An honest to goodness, not just a 3 year old's imagination tea party. Never done that before. A parent in our preschool put it on for our preschool administrator, who is moving this month. It was a fun way to send her off. During this little tea party (yes, there were other drinks available, don't worry), I got the chance to chat with some of the other mothers whose children attend the preschool. There was one mother whose daughter is in J's class, but who joined the preschool late in the year, so she was unfamiliar with most of the other mothers there. We were doing the typical "How many kids do you have" routine, and she seemed a little surprised that she was the only one at the table who wasn't a mother of an only child. "You mean, I'm the only one who has 5?" Yeah, lady, you're definitely the only one. We chatted some more, and then she said, "So, Heather, do you think you will have any more children? Do you want more children?" I took a deep breath and said, "Well, you know, we would love to have more children, but at this point, God hasn't chosen to bless us with any more, so...." and I shrugged. She look very intently at me and said, "God closes wombs, and He opens them, too. He opened Sarah's, and He can open yours. Is this the desire of your heart, to have more children? Then He will open your womb, I promise. I pronounce that blessing upon you in the name of our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen." Ok then. Admittedly, I'm a bit of a novice when it comes to tea parties, but does one usually get blessings at these things? I tried to laugh off what she said, especially since there was sort of an awkward silent pause at our table as she pronounced this blessing, and I said, half laughing, "Are you a prophetess?" She did not laugh. She smiled, though, and said, "No, but I am a servant of God, and you have a righteous desire to have children, and God grants us the righteous desire of our hearts, according to our faith. You just need to build up your faith, girl. And I'm going to give you my email address so you can email me when you are pregnant. Oh, I can't wait to get that message!" And she smiled again and got up to get her purse, presumably to get something to write her email address on. At this point, I got up to follow her, and said, in a low voice once we were away from the main table, "You know, it's kind of complicated", and I explained to her some of the medical issues I have been facing that would make getting pregnant, well, complicated. She didn't even bat an eye when I hastily poured out my lengthy medical history to her, an all but perfect stranger. She just said, "Complicated for you, maybe, but not for God. He heals people all the time. Here's my card, this is my address. Email me when you're pregnant." As the tea party wound down, and the guest of honor got ready to leave, this same woman called the whole party into the main room and said, "Hey, gather round so we can give Karen a blessing." All of the women stood in a circle, held hands, and this woman offered a beautiful blessing in the name of Jesus Christ on the guest of honor, and although the prayer circle thing was not exactly conventional, and was, I think, more of an impromptu thing done to connect the women in the room, the whole thing was actually quite moving. Not a single woman in the room besides me was Mormon. And yet we had an earnest and heartfelt discussion about God, the likes of which I have rarely experienced beyond a formal church setting. And a woman I never met pronounced a blessing on me, not because she was a prophetess, but because, as she said, she was just a servant of God, proclaiming His works and His love. And I was in awe of her faith. I mean, maybe she just had a gift with words and struggles as much as anybody, but her confidence in that moment came from somewhere, and I'd like to think it was from God. And it sure felt good to be around her. That can't be bad. I thought, We need more prayer circles in Relief Society. And maybe more tea parties, too. Celestial Seasonings, anyone?
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