No Moments, Not Really.

"What is your most embarrassing moment?"

I hate that question.

Here's the thing: I don't embarrass easily. Part of this may be credited to my fairly wholesome LDS lifestyle. The combination of being drunk or high, mixed with my extroverted and attention-starved personality most likely would have been a recipe for disaster. Thus - probably one of the reasons God saw fit to send me to my faithful, strict, Mormon parents.

The other part is the afore-mentioned personality-type. I'm shameless. I really am. A lot of that has to do with my seeming lack of a censor or logic. I've learned not to guiltily dwell too much on the stupid things I do or say because, no matter how hard I try, the things come out before I have a chance to stop them, so I've learned not to fret over it.

It's fruitless, really.

I was thinking about this today as I was browsing through facebook. You see, that place is wonderful and terrible all at the same time. I have my reasons. We all do. No point in hashing that out here. BUT - I fell into the self-indulgent trend of posting in my status for people to say where they'd met me. I didn't anticipate the compliments that were thrown in as well. It was appreciated, don't get me wrong. But unexpected. Mostly, I just felt like a stroll down memory lane. (Ok - I think my subconscious must have anticipated it, though, because had the flattering not occurred, I think I would have been disappointed. Just being honest here). Moving on....

So - one of the responses I got was "U dated my brother in high school... lol!"

And I got embarrassed. Not because he was embarrassing. Well - in hindsight, maybe he was a little. But because the whole memory of that portion of my life, I've decided, well... it embarrasses me. I mentioned I don't have any embarrassing moments. And that's true. But I think I have embarrassing "phases."

That high school boyfriend had broken up with me in a really harsh way. I don't need to mention too many details because it was years ago and I've been over it for at least a decade (and it involved cheating, a Super Bowl party, and an 8th grader). I know. I'd picked a winner. *sarcasm*

But what embarrasses me was my conduct after the break-up. Considering it was the 2nd half of my senior year, a lot of peoples' final memories of me are of a pathetic, broken, attention-starved drama queen, and that's just not who I am, or even was (well - ok. The pathetic and broken part, anyway). I was silly and thought I was in love, and the destruction of that had sent me into a spiral of chaos inside of myself. In hindsight, it was just infatuation that we allowed to get too serious too fast. But my behavior - ugh. It's just embarrassing. He wasn't worth it. I mean, no offense to him, because nobody's worth that, really.

So I find that the reason I can never answer the question about "a moment" is because I'm willing to do almost anything, to a point (it can't conflict with any personal moral code, of course). I was always the girl who would do the stupid dares or make people laugh with random antics or drink a glass full of back-washed toothpaste (another story for another time). But when it comes to embarrassing, I have to admit, my "moments" were more "periods in my life" of faltering character.

And, let's be honest, when someone asks you that question, they really have no interest in becoming a temporary therapist.

My New Obsession

Sometimes I stumble across people who are really, really, REALLY talented and I get obsessed - fast.

Here's the thing. I have a real appreciation for people who can sing... and not just "sing," but can SAAAAAANG. And I also have an appreciation for people who can do it in one take - LIVE. I also have an appreciation for people who do this and do it in a way that's healthy for their voice - when they hit the big high notes, you don't see veins popping out of their neck; they don't jut their chins out forward with tongue or neck tension; you can hear the placement of it resonating in all the right places according to what's appropriate for the range their singing in. And I appreciate when, within this package, there's an element of soul - heart. Putting their true self out there (this often involves some quirkiness they may come across as eccentric or "weird").

I also, apparently, have an appreciation for the word "appreciate."

So here's my new discovery. A british singer/songwriter named Jessica Cornish who falls under all of those things I mentioned up there. Or "Jessie J," I guess she goes by. She only has one single out right now (something about doing things "like a dude"). And I'm not a fan of that song, really (it's kind of.... "raunchy"). HOWEVER - I spent the girls' naptime today drooling over her amazing voice on youtube today.

Enjoy.







The story behind this last one is quite touching. When she was in the hospital as a young child (not sure why), she shared a room with a young boy in need of a heart transplant. One night, his crying woke her, and he was on the floor, praying to God. He died not long after, and this song was the first she ever wrote, inspired by him.




So - I plan to buy her album in the spring.... just sayin'.

How to Get Into Heaven

My junior year of early-morning seminary, our teacher decided it would be fun to give each of us a specialized "award." Some were sweet. Some were silly. Most were very applicable. The award I was given?

The "Can of Worms" award.

Yes - as far back as I can remember, I have had the ability to make something of nothing; to create chaos where peace has existed; to pretty much put my foot in my mouth. But this post is not about my ability to open said can of worms. I'm just preceding it with this explanation so that, in the case that some of you may be offended by what I'm about to say (which is possible), you can be comforted that I'm aware, and always have been, of the fact that sometimes I say too much, or simply, in the wrong way.

Oh well. :)

So, here's my beef:

I don't understand, within the LDS Church, people who "want" leadership callings. More specifically, people who find pride in either being, or being married to, someone in the Stake Presidency or Bishopric or Relief Society Presidency, etc.

Have I ever actually heard someone say, "I want to be in that calling" or "I want my spouse to be in that calling." Technically? No. But is there an air of pride and elitism when interacting with some of the people in these positions? Often? Yes.

And it totally irks me.

Why would a person WANT that kind of responsibility? Why would anyone actually crave the kind of stress, pressure, and responsibility those positions put on a person?

To quote my 5-year-old, Malia:
"I have a hypothesis"
(Yes. She actually says this).

For some reason, they have this cock-eyed, misconstrued idea that being in one of those callings somehow shows the rest of the members of their ward/stake how awesome they are. That, somehow, when extended such a calling, they are being proven to be among the more righteous members of the assembly. That, somehow, when asked to fulfill such duties, it's God's way of saying, "You're better than the rest of those insignificant peons."

Don't tell me you haven't met these people. They have that conspicuous demeanor. And I'm not implying that all the people I've ever known in these positions are this way. On the contrary, I've been fortunate to know many aren't. But the few that are, really... grate... on me. And it seems ironic, doesn't it? That these people see these callings where they are being asked to serve a large number of people, humbly, in God's name, as some sort of "badge" of honor and righteousness?

When David and I lived in Wymount, we lived in the most amazing ward of wonderful people. Something funny happened where, one week, I asked David, totally randomly, if he ever had the desire to be in the Bishopric. "No freaking way," was his reply. "I don't need that kind of stress and responsibility."

No lie - the next week he was called to be in the bishopric.

A while back, in our current ward, the stake president called, wanting to speak to David. I joked that he was going to be the Elder's Quorum President. "No thank you," he remarked. He was called as 2nd counselor *relief.* A few months later, the EQ President moved. Dave is now President. Now, realize, please, that he fulfills his calling to the best of his ability, and he never says no to any calling, no matter what. I'm just saying - someone who truly is worthy to serve in such a calling shouldn't WANT that calling, but be willing to serve in it to their greatest capacity.

I have absolutely no desire to be Relief Society President. And knowing full well that the fear that I'll say something stupid will most likely keep a Bishop from ever extending me that call, brings me great relief. If I were ever asked to serve in that capacity, would I do it? Of course. Have I ever said no to a calling? Nope. But I'm just saying, I wouldn't pick it for myself were I given the choice. I'm just not... "good enough." But then again, in my opinion, anyone who is asked to fill that position should feel the same. Then, they would be more willing to seek the Lord to aide them, and it would also create an accessibility to them that would make them really successful in serving in their calling, I think.

Have I ever actually heard a woman say, "I want to be Relief Society President! Oooo, pick me! Pick me!"? Not in those words, no. But I've heard it in the cutting remarks I hear when a woman criticizes the leadership of anyone in the ward or when they refer to the time when they were in that position and were so much more capable. And I've seen it in their faces when they knowingly glance through the corner of their eyes at each other in that pious way that some people do; the kind of people who don't really know what it means to actually seek approval from the Lord.

Honestly. I have met some nursery leaders who are some of the most amazing women I've ever encountered. Why we have that whole, "Some callings mean you're the better-est" dynamic, I don't know.

And it bugs me.

And if I were ever called to be the Relief Society President, it's the first thing I think I'd work to change.

... and that would be the only reason I'd ever "want" it. But otherwise, I'd like to stick with "lowly choir director" for as long as possible, thank you.

Thinking of Having Kids? Do This 15 Step Program First

I generally try to avoid posting someone else's witty ramblings, but this was just too good NOT to share:

Lesson 1

1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2

Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their…

1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child’s breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior. Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3

A really good way to discover how the nights might feel….

1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can’t get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)

Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.

Lesson 4

Can you stand the mess children make? To find out...

1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5

Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.

1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this – all morning.

Lesson 6

1. Take an egg carton. Using a pair of scissors and a jar of paint, turn it into an alligator.
2. Now take the tube from a roll of toilet paper. Using only Scotch tape and a piece of aluminum foil, turn it into an attractive Christmas candle.
3. Last, take a milk carton, a ping-pong ball, and an empty packet of Cocoa Puffs. Make an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower

Lesson 7

Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don’t think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don’t look like that.

1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment. Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Lesson 8

1. Get ready to go out.
2. Sit on the floor of your bathroom reading picture books for half an hour.
3. Go out the front door.
4. Come in again.Go out.
5. Come back in.
6. Go out again.
7. Walk down the front path.
8. Walk back up it.
9. Walk down it again.
10.Walk very slowly down the sidewalk for five minutes.
11. Stop, inspect minutely, and ask at least 6 questions about every cigarette butt, piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue, and dead insect along the way.
12. Retrace your steps.
13. Scream that you have had as much as you can stand until the neighbors come out and stare at you.
14. Give up and go back into the house.

You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

Lesson 9

Repeat everything you have learned at least (if not more than) five times.

Lesson 10

Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is also excellent). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week’s groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 11

1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.

You are now ready to feed a nine-month old baby.

Lesson 12

Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you’re thinking What’s “Noggin”?) Exactly the point.

Lesson 13

Move to the tropics. Find or make a compost pile. Dig down about halfway and stick your nose in it. Do this 3-5 times a day for at least two years.

Lesson 14

Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying “mommy” repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each “mommy”; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 15

Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the “mommy” tape made from Lesson 14 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

Do I Have Pulse Still?

Seriously.

December?

Seriously.

This month, nay, this year, will be over tomorrow. But due to self-imposed obligations and the like, December always brings our year to a close with a bang... er, an explosion... or the possible impending cardiac arrest.

(Where was this guy when I needed him)?!

Last year, I think I posted my Christmas post in March. Yep - I did. But I have a feeling that if I don't do it now, we'll find ourselves celebrating Christmas in July.

I had two birthdays to celebrate as well as a party to throw together; I was in charge of and performed in multiple church-related Christmas parties; I had our own ward choir's program to direct; and there was also the Stake Christmas music fireside that has become an annual tradition. That last one wouldn't have been so bad, considering my part was to simply practice with and direct the adult stake choir - until our Stake music chairman (who is in my ward) and who is 80+ years old, fell OFF of the Cultural Hall Stage!!!!! at Church the day of the fireside (I am NOT lying, ya'll - P.S. she's ok, now), and I told her I'd take care of the whole thing. You know - because I felt like I could totally handle more stuff.... I didn't have enough to do, right? Oh! And then I agreed to give someone's Relief Society lesson for them, as well as accompany someone to sing the following week while also singing (and accompanying) a song myself.

Masochist?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

HOWEVER - I didn't get sick until about a week ago, which is truly miraculous and I was so grateful for (not grateful now, but was then... well, you understand). And, aside from the incredible need for deodorant, naps, and energy drinks (of which, I had none, mind you) at the most strenuous of moments, I actually enjoyed a lot of it and am, truly, bidding the season adieu with a bittersweet melancholy (that last sentence totally sounded like I was trying too hard).

And now, pictures of cute kids:

CC in line for Tinkerbell @ Disneyland. (I don't know if you've noticed, but we visit their favorite pixie.... a LOT).

CC and Daddy visiting who, Malia decided, was the "real Santa" at our ward social. (We had a little discussion about "Santa's Helpers" when Lili noticed that the Santas in all of her annual mall pictures looked different from each other).

I caught this adorable moment of Malia trying to help Cecily button up her sweater. About 3 minutes later, patience was lost by both girls and I had to finish the job. Still cute, though.

Right before Malia's Christmas Dance Recital. I was so happy the curlers did their job. It had been pouring rain all day (all week, actually), so I was worried. As you can see, they turned out just fine.

And if you're thinking to yourself, "Gosh, that Malia is so dang cute. Look at that perfect and sassy little pose," then look below to see a few of the poses that preceded that successful one above (there were a ton of these).

On to Apple Valley.

My oldest brother, Alan, plays drums in a jazz band on Thursday nights. The whole family was in town, so we all came along to listen to the jam. I didn't take the following picture myself. I stole it from my mom's facebook page, so I don't know if that's his concentration face or if he's making a face at my mom - either is very likely.

Here's my dad, jamming along side the band.

My older sister, Cindy (who is currently 5 1/2 months pregnant), singing "Embraceable You."

And my baby sister, Tina, singing "Stormy Weather." And if you're wondering if I am aware that both of my sisters are absolutely stunning, the answer would be, "Yes. I am."

My brother, Tony (and his friend, Dan), making it quite clear that he is no fan of my mother's propensity for picture-taking.

After years of being Primary chorister, my mom has far too many posters and costumes to allow them to go unused with so many grandchildren nearby on Christmas Eve (all 5 kids were there - who knows if/when that'll happen again). So the nativity was brought to life in the Winkel home, musical style. This is my niece, Vienna, as an angel.

My brother, Tony, as, what I think is a shepherd... or a birdkeeper (that's his BFF George, by the way). They have Amazon parrots in Bethlehem, right?

Dave as a confused innkeeper from the Taliban who must've taken a time machine to get here....

My little Malia playing Mary.

My nephew, Adam, as a Wise Guy.

My other nephew, Schaeffer, as a shepherd.

The baby is born! (That is my nephew, Miles, as Joseph, and my bro-in-law, Chad, as yet another Shepherd).

My niece, Benee, singing a "multitude" of solos since her "multitude of angels" were both 2-years-old and not helping her out much.

But at least CC tried to get the choreography down...

Poor Aria woke up from a nap, only to be shoved in this basket as a prop... and she even had to play a boy. She'll need therapy, for sure.

1/2 a dozen people in that house can play the piano, and I got stuck there. I didn't get to see any of it. Just hear it. I recommend a capella next time... either that, or a rotation every other song.

Christmas morning. I've just told Malia I saw something strange outside. This is her sincere, "What, Mommy?!" face.

Reindeer tracks!!! Looks like I've started a tradition I'll never be able to escape, now.

What's with Dads and Christmas morning? I mean, c'mon. Our kids didn't even do the whole early-waking-run-and-jump-on-the-bed-screaming-"Santa-Came!-Santa-Came!" thing. Man up, Dave.

Santa wizened up this year and decided less was more with the stockings re: candy.

Didn't matter to CC, though. As soon as she found these chocolate crackers, everything else was forgotten.

Malia trying out her new Tinker Bell roller skates. Only about 1/2 a dozen falls thus far, and only one of them garnered tears. Not bad.

Maybe Cecily will keep her mitts off of our computers, now. Not likely.

The Mortensens on Christmas morning.

Some thug we found outside who we felt sorry for, so we let him in for some of the fun.

Playing outside after lunch at my brother Alan's house. Malia was happy that Tony let her hold George. And I was just happy that he wasn't gnawing her fingers off (George and I have never been very good friends).

And after nearly 3 days, these 2 cousins finally stopped doing the "mine!" and *push* thing to each other and actually started to play together... just before we had to go home.

All in all, good times with good people and good food (oy! the food). NOTE TO SELF: No one wants to help make sugar cookies, they just want to eat them. And no matter how hard you try to make them stay away until you are done frosting them, somehow you will go from almost 50 cookies to 28 by the time all is said and done. I *heart* Christmas.

And, of course, I am so grateful for the moments amidst the chaos when I was able to be reminded of the birth of Jesus Christ, of His amazing sacrifice and condescencion, and of His example of love and charity. For a season where more of us are acutely aware of our sensitivity to the kind of behaviors and traditions that help us to strive to be more like Him.