What are you doing ...

Since the new year isn't all about melancholy and wistful thinking, here's a sweet (and super tiny) little video Laney made and posted on facebook of her singing a New Year's song. ...

What Are You Doing New Year ... New Year's Eve?

I'm feeling terribly melancholy this New Year's Eve. I don't know why. Maybe it is because I stayed up half the night finishing the last book I needed to complete to officially meet my Goodreads reading goal for the year. I did it! Hurray! Maybe it's because so much is going to change for my family in the coming year ... and I'm not terribly enthusiastic about all the changes. Maybe it's because it's cloudy outside. I think I'll blame the horrible New Year's song that we HAVE to sing at church. Every. Single. Year. Ring Out, Wild Bells. Sorry to all you fans out there, but I really, really cannot stand that song. You can check it out HERE if you'd like. The lyrics are okay ... I guess. But the music in its minor key is just so horribly, horribly depressing. I know what it is like to be the chorister and have to choose relevant music for the day, and I know that this is one that is suggested for New Year's, but really, do we have to ring in the new year with such a sorrowful ballad?  Spencer had a heyday yesterday while we were singing it. He turned it into a ballad of death. I can't explain it. You'd have to have heard his enthusiasm as he sang yesterday. Our poor section of people were about in tears as we attempted to stay reverent in the face of his jubilation as he sang. I'm afraid he is going to turn into one of those people who love this song. Oh well. There are worst futures, I'm sure.

But anyway ...

Do you know what is going to happen in 2013? Well, lots of lovely things, I'm sure. But in our family Laney will graduate from high school, head to college (in Idaho!), and then leave for an 18-month mission for our church ... somewhere. It is here ... faster than I ever imagined. Those older ladies who would stop me in church to admire my little newborn Laney who said to me wistfully, "Enjoy these times, Melissa. They fly away so quickly, and before you know it, they'll be grown and gone." ... Well, it was super hard to believe them then when I was elbow deep in dirty diapers and sleepless nights and endlessly wandering the halls of church, hoping to keep my restless baby from disturbing the spiritual experience of everyone else. But they were so right. It seems as if I just blinked and all of the years melted away, leaving me precious few months with my family intact, all together, in one place.

And I'm not ready.

I think about myself at eighteen and what was getting ready to happen to me. I had NO idea what the Lord had in store for me. No idea at all. I was headed out. That's all I cared about. I was heading into my future, bright with all the potential in the world. Little did I know that I would join the Church of Jesus Christ less than a year later and be happily married to my very own Prince Charming by the time I was twenty-one. A mom at twenty-three. I could have never guessed. I would have been flabbergasted if anyone had suggested that that would be my future when I was eighteen and graduating high school. But I am so very, very grateful that that was the future I was given.

Still, if FREAKS me out to think that this sort of future could be Laney's as well so very, very soon. When I was getting married at twenty-one I sure felt like I was mature and perfectly capable of taking that step. But wow! Looking at things from my perspective now it just seems so very young.

But I think what really freaks me out about this whole leaving-the-house thing is that Laney will now be making some serious life decisions out on her own. She is strong and capable. She really does have a good head on her shoulders. She really does attempt to seek out the Spirit to guide her decisions, especially the big ones. So as far as preparation, she is about as prepared as they come.

Still ...

I guess I would rather not have her hurt out there in the big, wide world. That's it, I think. Making mistakes is part of our personal growth, but it isn't the fun part. And I wish that I could protect Laney from all the bozos out there. And it seems as if there are an awful lot of bozos out there. But there are amazing, wonderful people as well. Lots of them. I just wish that I could personally escort her through the world, helping her to avoid heartache and sorrow. It is a royal bummer that I can't.

Do you know what I want for Laney in these few years to come?

I want for her to find friends in the world who respect her and love her with a friendship that is deep and everlasting. I don't want these friendships to be the superficial kind that wither away at the first sign of trouble. I want these  friendships to be the types of friendships that allow her to be exactly who she is. She should never feel the need to justify her behavior or her beliefs with these good friends. She should never feel like she has to play a role around these friends. She should just be herself. And they should love her for it. Admire her for it. And be truly happy around her.

I want for her to discover exactly what she is destined to do in this world. Well, that's sort of a loaded statement. What exactly does that mean ... destined? It could mean so many things. But in this case, I think that I mean that I want for her to discover a path of study in school that inspires her. She is a smart girl and a creative girl and a talented girl. She could do so many things. I want her to find that area of study that brings her real joy. And outside of academics, I want for her to find ways to make a difference in the world that are meaningful to her. She is a service minded young woman, and there are so many ways that she could serve in this world. I want for her to find those ways to help other people that will bring her ultimate satisfaction in this world. I want her to find true joy as she serves her mission, something that she has wanted to do for a very long time. She has all those qualities to be successful. She is kind. She is patient. She is enthusiastic. She is adventurous (in some ways). She is willing. She'll do wonderfully.

I want her to find a love that is everlasting and eternal with an amazing young man out there who will adore her completely. I don't want her to marry the first bloke who looks at her and thinks, "Well, hmm ... I guess. ...why not?" No. I want for a young man to look at Laney and see a princess. I want for him to see her and decide that he would be willing to move mountains to win her approval and then continue to move those mountains to maintain a solid and eternal relationship with her. I want him to approach her with confidence as he recognizes her wonderful qualities and believes that his life will only be more full and more perfect if she is part of it. I want for him to see her as the most beautiful girl on the planet. I want for him to be her very best friend. Her confidant. Her rock. ... but I am a hopeless romantic (sigh).

But I guess that most of all I just want for her to be happy. I want for her to look back at her life when she is an old woman and think, "I couldn't have done much better than I did. I am content with who I am and what I've accomplished." You can't ask for much better in life, I think.

So today I'm a bit sad as I think about Laney's adventurous new year. It is the way of life, though, that children eventually pack up and leave home to forge their own way in this world. If I'd recognized the sorrow that these sorts of transitions can bring to parents, I think that I might have been a bit more thoughtful toward my own parents as I headed into the sunset so many years ago. I know, at least, that we've done as much as we could to lay a good foundation for her, and she has already shown a willingness to add to and strengthen that foundation on her own. There may be stumbles and trials along her path, but I have total confidence that she will be able to maneuver around them. So I should stop my worrying and trust that it'll all work out to her good. Like I could ever actually stop worrying. But I could try, right?

For now I think I'll put on my 2013 party hat, get started making a crockpot full of bacon wrapped smokies ... just because, grab some hot chocolate topped with a cup of whipped cream, and just celebrate my family and all of the wonderful memories we made in 2012 and those wonderful memories that are destined to find their way to us in 2013. Life is good. Very. Very. Good.

Laney. Ready to take on the world!

There Are No Words

I don't quite know what to say, but I feel the need to say it, so I'll do my best here. First of all, I should probably begin this post with a caveat. I HATE political posts on facebook. Hate them. Hate them. Hate them. I go on facebook to see the wonderful things going on in the lives of people I have come in contact with through the years. I come to grieve with them and comfort them in their trials. And I come to rejoice with them in their successes. I love to see the wonderful family events that make up everyone's lives. We are different in so many ways, and yet we are a community of people with so many similarities as well. That is why I love facebook. Political posts are just divisive. A few of them are just people respectfully sharing their views on important matters of the day. But so many are hateful and uninformed and divisive. There is not a spirit of goodness in them. There is a spirit of anger and contention. I hate them. I used to take some time to try and comment to try and correct inaccuracies or call out people who were name calling people who were good, kind people. But I don't anymore. I don't know of one single person in the world who has ever changed their political views because of a dumb facebook meme. Not one single person. We post that stuff in order to validate our own views in some ways. If I am unable to validate that view, my comment isn't going to change anything. It is just going to lead to nasty comments debating my feelings, sometimes leading people to put me in league with Satan himself. It's infuriating. My feeling is that you should only post things on facebook about others if you are brave enough to say it to that person's face. I don't care if it is a movie star or an athlete or the president of the United States. Our Heavenly Father expects us to be kind in our speech to others. And that includes facebook. So I ignore as much as I can and block people who are notoriously frequent political hate posters.

Having said that, I avoid posting political thoughts at all costs. I have pretty strong views that don't easily fall into a liberal or conservative label. I probably lean a lot more liberal than many of my friends, but I am a lot more conservative than many of my family. I am a conundrum. But who really cares? My thoughts are my own to live with. I don't have to defend them, and I don't ask anyone else to defend theirs. I am just happy if people would come to their opinions after reasonably looking at the issues and not listening to hyperbole and rhetoric.

Well, something happened last Friday that made me seriously want to post on facebook. But I have stayed strong. I will not post anything. I won't even link this post on facebook like I often do. I'm not interested in a mean-spirited facebook debate. I don't even want a debate on this blog. I just want to express my opinion somewhere. I need to get these thoughts out. I am not trying to influence anyone to change their opinion. You will not change mine with a comment at the end of this post. I just want to say what is in my heart. Here goes:

I don't watch the news much anymore. It is mostly just an avenue for propaganda machines on both sides of the political spectrum to use for their own benefits. It is entertainment television in my opinion. So I avoid it. But after a facebook post about children being hurt at a school in Connecticut I turned it on to see what was going on. And what I found was horrific. Absolutely, completely horrific. It brings tears to my eyes right now just to think about it. Twenty young children, ages six and seven, along with six adults were murdered in an elementary school in Connecticut by a mentally unstable young man with a lot of ammunition and complete depravity in regards to the value of human life. These children were first graders, just like my sweet JoJo. I couldn't help but think of him as I thought of those sweet children who met such a horribly terrifying end to their young lives. I could only watch for a moment before having to turn off the television. It was much too painful for me to watch. It still is. I think I'm done watching any more coverage. It isn't helping.

Well, of course after a terrible tragedy like this the facebook universe has to go crazy with posts about it. Many were posts offering comfort and prayers for the families involved. Several talked about the heroes of that day and the lives of the children and teachers who lost their lives. I appreciated those. But then there were immediately lots and lots and lots of posts from people who only seemed to see this tragedy in terms of how it affected their right to own guns. Some of these posts were okay, but many of them were downright offensive -- listing all of the ways that people could go about doing the same thing with another weapon -- things like that. I read a post from a woman saying that Israeli schools are much safer than ours, and then showing a picture of a teacher with an assault rifle hanging off her back, implying that our schools wouldn't have things like this happen if we only allowed our teachers to wear rifles. Maybe so. But I will say this: If our society turns into the type of society found in Israel, where we are in constant fear of suicide bombings or needing to have military armed personnel guarding our schools with visible rifles, it is time for Team Blau to circle the wagons and just homeschool, avoiding participating in anything where I would ever feel that unsafe as to need that sort of security. I am not interested in living in that sort of society. Those are just my feelings about a world like that. I'm sure others feel differently. I'm just not interested in sending my child to a school where there is a potential for a shootout between an enemy and school personnel. That isn't the America I know and love.

Today as I dropped JoJo off at school I really did think a lot about that school shooting. I always say goodbye to JoJo and give him a kiss as he leaves the van, but today I took some time to really appreciate him. I always do, but I don't always really think about how much I am entrusting him to the wonderful teachers and staff at East Elementary. This world is crazy at times. It can be unpredictable. There is no guarantee of absolute safety in anything, no matter what laws are put in place or if every single citizen of this country walks around with fifty rounds of ammo stuck in our back pockets. Horrible things are going to happen. These are the last days, and horrible things are going to happen. I can't prevent everything. All I can do is look my babies in the eye and let them know that I love them each and every day. I need to do all that I can as a mother to let them know that no matter what else happens in the world, there is one place in the world that is a safe haven for them where they can find absolute love and protection -- our home. So that's what I try to do. Some days I do great. Other days I fail horribly. But overall I hope that my children can feel that even if the world around them falls apart, the love that Herman and I have for them is constant and absolute.

As I was washing clothes this morning I watched this clip from Morning Joe. I thought that it was brave and touching and moving.



He said so many things that I felt myself after I heard the news on Friday. We are gun owners. I didn't grow up with guns, so they still make me very, very nervous. But I do support Herman as he purchases them and teaches our kids to shoot them and use them responsibly. I do support the right of citizen to own firearms. I do. Can people do lots of damage with knives? Sometimes. Are there other things out there that kill people? Yes. But there is something crazy about owning military assault guns that can fire hundreds of shots in less than a few minutes time. Why is this necessary? I don't understand. We have banned first person video games from our house for many years. We used to have them, but then one day Herman started thinking about how we were "playing" games about killing people. Lots and lots of killing without one feeling about it other than perhaps euphoria for having killed the most. There is a desensitizing to violence that occurs when these games are so violent and so realistic at the same time. So we got rid of those games. I know, having dealt with the mental health system with my mom's problems, how ridiculous our health care system is when it comes to mental healthcare. Beds are never available when there is a crisis. It takes months to get appointments to see psychiatrists, and then those supposed experts only spend ten minutes with my mother, never truly trying to help her get better, simply prescribing a bunch of meds, never checking to see how they work. I have more than a few friends who have children who struggle with mental illness and have to lock their children in their rooms at night for fear of being killed in their sleep. The mental health system is not meeting their needs with this super complicated problem. One not-so-brilliant guy on facebook posted a post about how this wouldn't happen when we were younger because we would have just "beat the shit" out of a kid like the one who murdered those children. Oh how I hate stupid people sometimes! Such a misunderstanding of mental health! Of course, I wouldn't understand things either if I hadn't witnessed first hand how mental illness can completely alter a person's personality and make them do things that they wouldn't normally do. You can't understand it until you see it happen to someone you love. It is horrible.

So what is the answer? I don't know. I wish I did. It's complicated. There are so many layers to this problem. But I do know that we have to do something. I don't want to EVER wake up to hear about the massacre of innocent children like this again. NEVER. We are better than this as a nation. We can do better for our innocent children. For now, I do the only thing I can. I hug my babies a little tighter. I take time to listen, to love, and to enjoy every single blessing of time we have together. And I know, no matter what, that my family is forever.

The Power of a Song -- The Love of a Lifetime

Normally when I get the blogging bug I sit right down and get my thoughts on the screen, but this one has been percolating in my head for a few days. I'm having a hard time putting my thoughts and feelings into words. But I'm going to do my best to tell this story ... at least a small part of this story. There are days that I feel like it is a story that demands to be told and other days where I feel like it is a story that needs to be thrown right into the vault, never to be heard of again. Today I'm feeling the need to record it. Maybe I'll change my mind a bit later. Either way I'll have a record to keep for myself. So here goes:

I have a monster commute every day when I drop all of my children to their various schools. From travelling to and from seminary in the morning, then dropping Spencer off at the middle school, I finish up by taking the younger four to three different schools. This month during the Christmas season I have hooked my iPhone up to the car sound system and listened to my very eclectic collection of Christmas songs. Did you know that I am a bit obsessed about collecting Christmas albums? Well, I am. When we were in the poverty of our early marriage years I still found the funds to get a new album every year. Now, after twenty years of collecting, I've got quite a selection of songs. You'd be surprised how many ways a person could sing Silent Night.

Well, last week I had dropped everyone off at their different schools and was heading for my last drop off of the day. Minsy is taking preschool classes offered by the Waynesville school district. The Early Childhood Center is actually located on Fort Leonard Wood, so I have to go through the security at the front gate in order to get her to school every day. It's no big deal. I think that I've gone through enough times now that I'm almost on a first name basis with the MPs and guards that man the gate posts. But it does add a bit of time to the commute. On that day as I was driving toward post from Freedom Elementary I was listening to my Christmas songs on shuffle. That is always an interesting thing because I can have a song like Ave Maria sung by Josh Groban followed by Deck the Halls sung by John Denver and the Muppets. Quite a juxtaposition at times. At one point on this drive Blowin' In the Wind by Peter, Paul, and Mary came up. Blowin' in the Wind? Yes. I know it is not considered a Christmas song, but it is a Peter, Paul, and Mary standard, and I guess they felt obligated to sing it at every concert. Their Christmas album is a live performance, so it had to be on there. Normally I just fast forward it. I do love the song, but it always feels weird to hear it in the middle of my Christmasfest. But today I felt like listening all the way through.

Peter, Paul and Mary remind me of my parents so much. We didn't have a ton of records when I was growing up, but we had Peter, Paul and Mary -- Ten Years Together. My parents are big folk music fans. Lots of people think of Blowin' In the Wind or Puff the Magic Dragon when they think of PP&M, but they actually sang lots of great songs during the height of the folk music movement of the 60s, and we listened to a lot of those songs. I actually love listening to their Christmas album because it has so many unusual choices for Christmas songs ... songs that you don't normally hear on Christmas albums. So it keeps my Christmas music shuffles a lot more interesting. An example is this song:

I love that song!

Anyway, as I was listening to Blowin' In the Wind that morning I started thinking of my parents and all that they have gone through in their life. I remembered my mom talking to me about one PP&M song in particular, Leavin' On a Jet Plane. 

The picture quality on these is terrible. (I couldn't figure out my new scanner,
so I had to just take a picture with my camera.) But ...
Aren't they super cute? This is a picture of my mom and dad when my dad
returned from duty in Vietnam, and a picture of my mom
 in some of my dad's battle gear,  along with a picture of my dad in uniform
walking out the door.

My mom told me that she loved that song because it reminded her of my dad when he left for Vietnam during the Vietnam War. They were super young and newly married when my dad got drafted into the war. It wasn't anything that they had planned for, but they made it work as best they could. Neither one of my parents ever talk much about my dad's time serving during the war. I don't know why. I do know that it was really hard for my mom, and I'm sure it must have been equally difficult for my dad to be separated at such an early time in their marriage. I can hardly imagine what it might have been like. We have been blessed to live in a military community, and we have seen the sacrifice that families and service members make in order to serve our country during a time of war. It isn't always easy. The strains on families can be tremendous. But I have always been impressed with the people we have known who are making this sacrifice. There is a sense of community within the greater armed forces family that is admirable. So although I can't imagine what my parents went through, I believe it might have been similar to what I see around me every day.

Well on that day, as I was headed to Ft. Wood I thought of my mom, waiting here at home for my dad to come home. She waited for him. I'm sure that she wrote to him. She's a letter writer. But there aren't any letters for me to see. Why not? I would have loved to see those. But she waited. A long while.

Aren't they cute?

As I thought of that I fast forwarded my thoughts to today. They have been married for 45 years. That is an accomplishment in a world where marriage is becoming more and more temporary or undesirable to some people. Mom and Dad are older and more frail. And now my mom is suffering with the effects of bi-polar disorder. She hasn't always had this, but about fifteen years ago she had her first episode (or whatever you call it), and she hasn't been the same since. It kind of comes in waves, periods of horrible followed by periods of relative normality. The horrible times are very, very horrible. There were some things that were absolutely hilarious to behold, but most things were just horrible. But the normal times were nice enough. But this summer something different happened. I don't know exactly what changed, but Mom had an episode that was pretty bad. It was worse than normal ... so different that at one point there was a whole team of researchers from the University of Missouri that was watching her and trying to treat her. Kind of like our own real-life House M.D. experience. They managed to stabilize her so that she wasn't having any mood swings, but her personality seems completely altered. She cannot concentrate, and she no longer can do the normal household things that she used to do. It almost feels like Alzheimer's in some ways ... but it isn't.

Well, on that morning as I thought about my parents and Leavin' on a Jet Plane I thought about my mom waiting at home all those long months for my dad to come home. And then I thought of today. My mom hasn't gone away on a jet plane to a war zone. But she has gone away, fighting a war in her mind (so to speak). She is not here completely. She is trapped in the complexity that is the human mind. I don't know how much this affects her personally. She seems very happy most of the time these days, so that is good. But it is very difficult for my dad. He has to care for her and protect her, through his own physical pain much of the time. But, just as she waited for him all those years ago, now he waits for her. We don't know if she will be coming back to us fully again on this earth. We sure hope so. She is much too young to be so frail. She potentially has many, many years of happiness and fulfillment ahead of her. Watching my mom in this state of mind is not all fun and games. At times it has been extremely difficult for my dad. But he stayed. He waits for her.

That day as I thought of the sacrifices my mom made for my dad in the late 1960s and the sacrifice my dad is making for my mom in the present, I thought of the words of Leavin' On a Jet Plane.

So kiss me and smile for me.
Tell me that you'll wait for me.
Hold me like you'll never let me go.

I thought of how that song applies just as much to their situation today as it did more than forty years ago as my dad headed to war ... and I broke down in tears. Part of it was me thinking of how heartbreaking it is that such a condition exists in this world. Mental illness sucks -- for the people suffering with it as well as their families and loved ones. If you have never seen it firsthand, you have NO idea what it is like. Sometimes it just seems so unreal, like you are watching your family on a television movie instead of real life. But, anyway, part of me was also thinking of how amazing my parents are. I never really noticed it all that much as I was growing up, but the older I have gotten, the more I have noticed their own personal strength. Are they perfect? No. But I think that is what makes their decisions and their sacrifices all the more impressive. Life has handed them a few lemons, but instead of running away, they have found a way to keep moving forward.

As I drove toward post I thought of the good years that we spent together as a family while I was growing up. I thought about how quickly those years have flown by. I thought about how quickly life changes and how much I wished that I had appreciated things as I was growing up. I mourned the life that I felt like my parents deserved after all that they sacrificed as we were growing up, a life that shouldn't have included the difficulties they face right now. And I thought of my own life and how quickly it seemed to be passing me by. I remembered sitting around our old record player, listening to our PP&M albums as a family. It seemed like only yesterday. Yet here I am, mother of a girl getting ready to leave home, forging her own path in this world. It will only be a matter of time before she is driving her own children to school, listening to music and thinking about Herman and me. (Wonder what song she will associate with us?) I thought a lot as I was driving.

And I became a blubbering mess.

It wasn't the best spot in the world to break down and cry. I was in line, waiting my turn to arrive at the gate and present my ID so that I could go on post and take Minsy to school. But I couldn't stop. I frantically tried to compose myself as I pulled up to the MP at the gate ... and woefully failed. I could tell that my eyes were swollen, my face was blotchy, and water was pouring out of every opening in my face. But the MP was super calm and collected as he took my ID. He wished me good morning, grabbed my ID, ran it through the reader, and then handed it back to me ... when he noticed my face. He did a double take. I could tell that he wanted to pull me aside and make sure I was okay. But that isn't how the gate works. If they pulled every driver aside who looked distraught about something it could significantly slow down the already long lines onto post. So this MP just smiled sympathetically as he returned my ID, wishing me well. I should have told him that I was okay ... simply feeling a bit sentimental at the time. No worries.

So time moves on. And on and on and on. I must say, despite my tears, I really am grateful for the knowledge I have that life does not end at death. I know that at some point all of us will have the opportunity to become whole again, to be healthy and happy and together with our family forever. And I am super, super grateful today that I grew up with the parents I have. Seeing them push through the struggles they face today proves to me more than ever the good people that they are. I owe much of my happiness and success in life to the values they instilled in me at a young age, and they don't just talk the talk. They walk the walk. Whatever may come in this life we lead, I know that my parents love each other so deeply that they are willing to wait ... through whatever comes their way.

It's the Thought That Counts, Right?

December 6th seems to be a popular day to be born. I have four facebook friends with birthdays today, and Laney has seven. That doesn't count several other non-facebook people we know who also celebrate their birthdays today. I always think of this day when I think of Laney's birthday because this was the day that I was due when I was pregnant with her, and since she was my first I was under the mistaken impression that I was destined to deliver her on the 6th. But everyone knows that 1st babies rarely are born by their due dates ... I just hoped to be the exception. So anyway, out of all of my kids Laney is the only one where I remember the day she was due as well as her actual birthday. That makes it super easy for me to remember her cousin, Brenna's, birthday, since she was born today. It's the only extended relative birthday that I know off the top of my head.

Well, anyway, Laney had several friends from school who have birthdays today, so she decided to make cupcakes for them and bring them to school today. She stayed up a little later last night and made these:

Peanut Butter and Chocolate Cupcakes!
Aren't they beautiful?

Cupcakes were made and frosted and then put in a travel container. Everything was ready for the next day deliveries. All was good.

And that's when our sad tale of broken dreams begins ...

It started out as any normal school day for the Blau Family. Laney, Savannah, and I woke up early, got ready for the day, and headed out to seminary at 5:30 am. As Laney and I were walking through the kitchen to head to the garage, I saw her container of cupcakes sitting on the stove. My immediate thought was protective. I knew that if those cupcakes were sitting there, looking oh so delicious, when the younger kids woke up, it would be too big of a temptation for them to resist. We needed to get them out of their line of sight in order to preserve them for her school friends. I told Laney to grab the Tupperware container and stick it on top of the refrigerator. Laney, thinking that I was a super wise mother and therefore should know what I'm talking about, grabbed the cupcakes by the holder atop the container and proceeded to move her bounty. As she grabbed the holder I had a fleeting thought. I thought I should remind her that the clasps that attach the lid of the container to the bottom sometimes slip, so she needed to make sure that it was secure before she lifted the cupcakes over her head. But, as I react to most fleeting thoughts that go through my head, I ignored the thought and turned toward the garage door. 

And that's when I heard it ... a gentle, soft thud. You know ... kind of like the whisper soft landing of a baby bird in its mother's nest.

Or the sound of Laney's birthday celebration dreams dying right before our eyes.

I turned around, and immediately Laney and I screamed in unison as we saw this ...

Oh no!

Herman and Savannah came tearing into the kitchen. Herman must have been terrified after hearing our screams because he came all the way from the other side of the house in record time.

We must have sounded like we had encountered an intruder or broken a leg or something. Instead, they just found Laney staring at the kitchen floor without speaking, dumbfounded.

All that hard work gone to waste. It is at moments like this that I can tell that she is Herman's daughter because I would have been in tears. Laney just looked at the gigantic mess at her feet and shrugged her shoulders as she said, "Oh well." Poise in the face of kitchen disasters ... not a talent I have, I'm afraid. Savannah, ever the one to find humor in a situation, looked down at the mess, noticed that there were some of the cupcakes that landed atop the pile, keeping them free of the kitchen cooties on the floor, so she said, "Well, since you won't be delivering these now, I think I'll have one for breakfast."

So Laney's hopes of bringing birthday joy to her friends at school didn't quite go as planned. Luckily, she had put aside one cupcake in the fridge overnight to give to Herman, so she was able to take that to school to give to her friend, Holly. All was not lost. 

So happy birthday to all the December 6th birthdays out there. There was a girl, here in Missouri, who was thinking of making it a day to remember. And it was ... just not in the way she had planned.

True Love Is ...

I was a big, big fan of the Twilight books when they first came out. I would read them all the way through, and then I would start them over again so that I could remember how things were in the beginning of their relationship. I would think about the great scenes in the books and smile. I loved these books so much. 

And then the movies came.

I'll admit that I was one of those people who stood in line to be the first person to see Twilight in our local theater. At that time no one knew that these movies were going to be a big deal, so it wasn't a midnight showing or anything like that. I was just excited to see the story in my head produced for the big screen. The result? Well, it was less than stellar. But I was still caught up in my great love for the book, so I overlooked a lot of the obvious flaws in the movie and just enjoyed the experience.

Now after five movies have been produced I can say that my love for this series has faded a lot. The movies really destroyed the books for me. I'm sorry to all of you RPattz fans out there, but Robert Pattinson is a terrible, terrible actor. He constantly looks constipated, whether he is happy or angry or in the grips of passion. It's a tad bit disturbing. And Kristen Stewart constantly looks ticked off at the world. She has the emotional acting range of a carrot. Taylor Lautner is marginally better, but I think that is because he is the only actor of the top three stars who actually really, really wants to be there. And then there is the script itself. Words that seemed so romantic and swoon-worthy in the book just sound ridiculous and cheesy when onscreen. I'm not sure if this is the fault of the actors, the directors, or the screenplay. It's probably a combination of all of it. So anyway, I have gotten to the point where I can hardly bear to see the movies onscreen in the theaters or at home.

But I feel a sense of obligation to see this thing through to the end. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment. But I have forked out the money for the ridiculously overpriced theater prices to see these films for the past several years. For the last two years I drew the line at showing up for the midnight showing, but to be fair, last year we were in China when it opened, and this year I was concerned about being able to wake up for seminary the next morning. So I waited.

But this post is not about my feelings about the Twilight Saga. This is about the love of a man for a woman, and the great lengths he will go to in order to prove his love to that girl. 

My sweet husband loves me dearly.

I hadn't been pushing to see the movie right away because we have been so busy, and we just haven't found a good time to go. I was planning on going with Laney and Savannah who could appreciate the movie a little bit. But because they have a packed schedule I was thinking that I was going to have to wait for a few more weeks. But yesterday Herman invited me to go see the movie with him ... or more accurately, he volunteered to sacrifice his dignity on the altar of husbandly duties and see the movie with me.

I know he hates these movies. I know that he tries very hard not to comment on them because he doesn't want to ruin the experience for me. And I know that Herman has a very, very hard time keeping his opinions to himself, so it about kills him to sit through these movies without laughing or cracking a joke. But yesterday he agreed to see the movie and try really hard to smile and be supportive as he watched.

We arrived at the theater and ordered tickets. When I told the ticket guy that we wanted two for Breaking Dawn he loudly announced "TWO FOR BREAKING DAWN!" Herman said, "Come on man. Have pity on me. Not so loud." We noticed several guys attending this showing with their significant others, and all of them had the look of martyrs on their face. You know, that look that says, "You are totally going to owe me for this later." So funny.

The movie began, and it was the usual Twilight movie. Lots of screen shots of Edward looking pained, a few of Jacob looking cocky, Bella looking completely hateful at half the world, and the obligatory pan of beautiful vampire faces to remind us again and again just how amazing these vampires are. There were some good parts. There were some horribly bad parts. I thought that Baby Renesmee looked horribly creepy ... nightmare-like creepy. But it was a good end to this series. I think the best part was the audience reactions. I knew the big twist at the end, but many people did not, so after it occurs there was an audible gasp of relief after they realized that everyone was okay. I really, really liked the closing credits when they showed all the principle actors from the entire series. That was cool. I wish they'd do that for all big movie series conclusions. 

And Herman didn't laugh one single time. He didn't even laugh at the very end when Bella let Edward see inside her mind and showed him scenes from all of the movies. He kept his features schooled and calm. He let me enjoy the experience. Now, as soon as the movie was over he bowled over with laughter, grateful that he had performed his duty with flying colors. He did a few fist bumps with other men in the audience who had also survived the journey, and then he laughed and laughed on the way out as he described Bella's special gift to Edward at the end of the movie ... "I made you this video on my iPhone of my favorite moments." I can't do his joke justice through my blog words, but it was a little funny,

So anyway, last night Herman proved himself to be a man truly, deeply in love. This will be an act of love that will probably continually be brought up at Blau family gatherings for years to come. I will probably have to return the favor someday and see a Herman movie with him, but I don't mind. He usually has good tastes ... not counting his great love for all of the Rocky movies.

He loves me. He really, really loves me!

And just for kicks ...

Love it!