Christmas Odds and Ends

First item of business, I must apologize. I feel like a jerk. In my post about spending time, I totally forgot to mention some of my readers who do a ton of that for me! (Hi Aunt Kristi! Hi Aunt Kristen! Hi Aunt Carrissa! Hi Aunt Jody!) I love when they show up at our house because it means I can go collect all my dance pictures they haven't seen yet and all my poems or claymations or whatever and they will sit there and compliment me and smile at me and just make me feel like I really am something.

So, again, sorry for not returning the favor and forgetting!!!

Okay, so I know that Christmas is technically over, but too me it goes until New Years. So just bear with me as I stick to the Holly Jolly theme here, on December 26th.

If you've read my Mom's blog, you already know of the tree in my room that me and her have been working on this year.

It's been fun! And it's all been my brilliant mother's idea! It's amazing what a few pipecleaners can do to a room. But I think the funnest part was the Whoville we created this year. It became a process. I glued papers together, and my mother made it into something with sparkles, pipecleaners, stickers, you name it! And it must've been fun because even my little brother Nic joined in. His house (the one with the gingerbread man) though the smallest, was probably the heaviest. The thing was loaded with hot glue. I love that that kid! (In fact, I tell him so every night even though he suddenly acts like I don't exist :)

I plan on eventually adding the Grinch's mountain and a bunch of Whos, but that's next years' goal.

Usually on Christmas Eve night I can't fall asleep. But I'll confess, I was out in about ten minutes after hitting my bed. I did however, wake up at 4:30 that morning for two reasons: I forgot to eat dinner and was hungry, and pure, childish excitement! That and Nic , also unable to sleep, turned on the T.V. in the other room and I thought it was my parents were coming to wake us up to open presents. When I found out what it really was, I fell back on my pillow. There was no way I was going to fall asleep now. Not after that rush of excitement. And then I remembered that I usually read my scriptures in the morning.

I've been commanded my the prophet, the general young women's president, my bishop, my seminary teacher, and my stake president to read my scriptures daily. I replayed the busy events that were about to unfold that day and decided if I didn't read now, they'd never get read.

So, by the light of my cell phone, I decided to read of Christ's birth, determined to find something I hadn't noticed before. And you know what? With the help of prayer, I did.

I always wondered: If there was a big, shiny, new star in the sky, concourses of singing angels, and shepards up and leaving their flocks, how come virtually no one in Bethlehem noticed? The place wasn't that big. And yet, the only people besides the shephards who were aware were the wisemen, who lived in the East.

Then, after a moment of pondering, it clicked. They weren't paying attention. It was a busy time with Ceaser's proclomation, and they were too caught up in their own affairs. I quickly surveyed my own life. Was I the same way? Was I too caught up my own affairs to not notice the miracles? The angels in my life? The bright, guiding stars? The savior?

I determined to be like the wisemen: searching, expecting, and focused no matter how far away I seemed.

A spiritual lesson at 4:30 a.m. in my own bedroom. Maybe those leaders of mine know a thing or two about what they're talking about.

Merry Christmas to you Who's, the tall and the small!

I was once told that Mary was probably my around age. Can you imgaine??? I can't. But I think it just goes to show that the more impossible our trials may seem, the more miraculous the blessings are.

I LOVE this holiday!!! I love it more than my birthday! The music, the mood, the food, the smells, the traditions, the decorations, the lights, the good movies they show on T.V., picking up and looking at every little peice in every little nativity set I see, all the family that comes around, the cute scarfs and fuzzy socks I get to pull out and wear, the heartwamring stories, lighting up the place by telling people from the postmaster to customers and the concession stands 'merry Christmas!', being allowed to wear a santa hat through the halls of school, getting in trouble for putting up countdown sighns (long story), I just LOVE IT!!! Have a very merry Christmas!!!

Time's Tribute

I have what my mom likes to call my 'entorage' or my 'cronies' or even my 'little fan club.' It consists of all my younger cousins, our neighbor's kids, and even a few of their friends. In fact, I'm pretty sure one of them is reading this right now (Hi Rissi!) I'm not sure how it came about besides the fact that I refuse to grow up in some ways (okay, lots of ways) I do what they do because, well, what fun is sitting around visiting with the 'grown-ups' when you can still get away with going outside and defeating 'bad-guys' or scaling castle walls or reporting to secret agent headquaters? (I get story ideas from these things--no joke!) I know I can't get away with it forever, but in the meantime...

I love them all! I was once a nominee for homecoming and was riding in the back of a truck during the parade all dressed up pretty and professional when suddenly, from the sparse crowd we all heard an enthusiastic, "HI DOLLY!!!" I laughed and waved back. Then another "HEY DOLLY!!!" and another and another. My fellow nominees began to laugh too and give me a few curious looks, but I think I was smiling to big to answer.



There are times though, when I walk away from a game feeling like a jerk for various reasons. It's not like I'm some super-awesome person who just attracts kids like a picnic does flies. It's more like they're super-awesome kids who willingly accept a teen like me who needs their childlike simplicity to bring me out of my highschool drama and back down to earth. I once asked my mom how I even deserved such honored attention from such sweet spirits.

"I don't get it," I sighed, "Why do they get so excited when I show up." I most definatly wouldn't.

"It's how you make them feel," she wisely replied.



I thought about that a lot that day. How did I make them feel? It's not like I showered them with compliments. I mean, I gave a few here and there and could probably work and doing that more. I was nice to them, but so is everyone else. All I really did was be myself. Then it clicked: Time.



I've come to believe that time is probably one of the best compliments you can give someone. I have two older cousins probably reading this right now (Hi Julianne! Hi Alicia!) that taught me how to even do all these things. Julianne once played Barbies with me and I still remember which ones are the ones she gave me because I remember her playing with them. Alicia has taught me how to make AMAZING crafts that I would've never even thought of even though it took most her afternoon and she has two small kids. And those creations are still sitting in my room, proudly atop of my windowsill.

I look up to those guys and just knowing that they care enough to give their time still makes my day. Shoot, just the fact that they take the time to read this blog is one of the reasons I keep it going!
I think, thought, that this gift is one of the reasons we love our parents so much or those true friends. Same goes for school teachers, neighbors, the guy at the check-out window who was willing to fix your order.

And, of course, our Savior who spent his entire lifetime for us.




That ought to make us feel at least a little special.

In retrospect...

Remember that whole rearview mirror incident? Well I'm really beginning to think it happened to teach me more than simply paying attention (trust me, not even the best of school teachers have reached that feat).

You see, my dad's friend gave him a free replacement (and I wanted to give him a free hug--no more "500 bucks" comin' out o' my underfed wallet!) We painted it to match the rest of the car and my dad graciously attatched it. We still have to fix it though because it's aimed too far up and all I can really see in it is the sky; which, obviously, doesn't help me much unless I were birdwatching-on-the-go or trying to escape a bunch of 'bad-guy' helicoptors that were after me.

The other thing about it is that it's tinted. And I'm not complaining--for someone who just spent all her $40 yesturday in Target, this thing just saved my finanacial behind. No, this is just a big hinting detail as to what I'm getting at.

I sorta glanced at it the other day on my way to school and I got one of those weird epiphanies that this blog runs on. (Yep, here she goes again...)

Rearview mirrors look back, right? (I most certianly hope so.) Well I got to thinking about how one of my mirrors is crystal clear, reflecting every ray of sunshine, and how the other one puts a sort of dark, haunted tinge on everything. In english, when we decide to take a stroll down memory lane, what memories do we bring up?

I have a book by John Bytheway (one of my favorite youth speakers) called "How to Be Totally Miserable. A self-hinder book" that illustrates this perfectly.

"There you are, faced with a pile of videos labeled 'memories' and a VCR called your brain. Hmmm, which tape should you play? It depends on whether your trying to be happy or miserable. If your trying to be happy, play the ones that give you hope and make you laugh! If you're trying to be miserable, play and replay the tapes of your past mistakes. Relieve all the less-than-good times as if they had value. It's a ridiculous strategy; but that's what miserable people do. As with all other video selections, you have a choice. Happy people sometimes replay a sad memory, but they have the motto, 'Be kind, don't rewind'. If they've done something stupid in their past, they repent, refocus, rewind, and re-record something else over that bad memory. As Stephen R. Covey might say, 'They live out of their imagination, not out of their memory.' Miserable people watch the tape again and again until they're depressed. They don't realize that their past doesn't define their future.'

Two parrells! How's that for one post? Anyways, I guess I'll end with another quote by one of the Latter-Day Saint Church Authorities who's name I shamefully can't quite remember,

"The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is now, live in it."