Let Them Eat Cake!

Proof that

you can

have your cake

and eat it 'two'!

- Bradley & Jensen turn one -

(They hated the texture of the frosting.

I loved Jensen's 'Look Ma, no hands'

solution to eating his cake.  Smart boy!)

Don't Waste Today

The most wasted day of all

is that on which

we have not laughed.

- Chamfort -

The pre-Fireworks party - July 4, 2010 -

The Cat Whisper

This post is dedicated to Christina Vanfleet.  She hates our cat.

A couple of months ago, Mr. W. declared our cat to be 'The Most Annoying Cat On Earth'.  (Please keep in mind that Mr. W. is very tolerant of all living creatures but Pumpkin's behavior has pushed him over the cliff!)  Our cat pulls out her own hair - obsessively!  Wherever she can reach, she pulls.  She has created a sort of sad Mohawk running down her spine.  Please know that Mr. W. would not necessarily mind if she pulled out her hair.  The problem he has with it is that she pulls it out either in the garage (loves to do it by the door leading in to the house) or on our front door doormat.  Every night when he comes home, he vacuums up the hair in the garage.  We even have a vacuum cleaner dedicated to Pumpkin's hair.  Frankly, if you didn't know about the cat hair you would think that Mr. W. is the obsessive one who just loves to vacuum the garage.  You would be wrong - he's just trying to keep the cat hair from being tracked in to the house.  I looked at the vacuum canister yesterday and, if I had a spinning wheel and was so inclined, I think I could make a cat hair sweater out of all of the hair Mr. W. has vacuumed up.  We got our cat from Betsy Johansen (thanks a lot - I think there may be an issue of defective genes - just a guess :)  It could be worse, Bonnie Morrow has the bulimic sister of our cat and Bonnie's cat is an inside cat.  Yikes!

Anyway, there is a TV program entitled 'The Dog Whisper'.  It is about a man, Caesar, who owns the Dog Psychology Center is LA and his work is to 'train people and rehabilitate dogs'.  As part of the rehabilitation, he uses a firm finger poke, foot tap or finger snap to 'snap' a dog out of a fixated or obsessive frame of mind.  The other day when Pumpkin started to pull out her hair, Vanessa decided to try the 'Cat Whisper' approach to try to stop Pumpkin's obsessive behavior.  It worked . . . briefly, and then as soon as we came inside, she was back to her hair pulling.  What is interesting to me is that by interrupting a cat's/dog's pattern of thinking, you can change their behavior.  Caesar never lectures, yells, bullies or uses excessive physical force with a dog.  Instead, his focus is being calm and assertive and the dogs soon mirror his state of mind.

By now you're probably wondering what in the world this has to do with anything but here's the lesson I learned the other day.

The other night I was talking (obsessing) to Mr. W. about my frustration with a person who will remain unnamed.  I was frustrated with what I perceived as a character flaw and the impact it was having on me.  After listening to me carry on for a few minutes, Mr. W. turned to me and said (in a very loving, calm way), "You know, that's who this person is and, to a certain extent, it will always be that way.  That's just the way it is."  What was so brilliant about the way he said it was that it was essentially a 'poke, tap, snap' that challenged my obsessive way of thinking, talking and feeling about this person.  As I stopped to consider positive aspects of this person (yes, this person has them!), I was a little ashamed that I had let myself get in to a 'barking for no reason/pulling my hair out' state of mind when it came to this person.

A couple of days later, I thanked Robert for the mental 'poke'.  Frankly, I think he was grateful that I 'got it' and relieved that I did without resentment towards him.

Sometimes, I think we all need a 'poke'.  Years ago, in the midst of a very hard personality difference with a sister in my ward who was serving in a Relief Society presidency with me, a bishop told me to grow a thicker skin (I went in looking for sympathy).  I needed that poke.  One time I complained to my dad about my in-laws.  He reminded me that they had raised a wonderful son and that for that reason alone, I should respect them.  I needed that poke.  Last year I repeated some one's somewhat unflattering perspective of a woman I didn't know well and a good friend reminded me that my knowledge was, at best, second hand and so really I didn't know the truth.  I needed that poke.  Honestly, as hard as I've tried to do the right thing, I've still received a lot of pokes in my life.

I think we all get in to patterns of thinking - some we aren't even aware of sometimes until they're firmly entrenched.  I've been grateful for Mr. W., family, prophets, friends, scriptures and all other sources that have 'poked' me at times in to better ways of thinking.  If I have 'poked' the sisters of this ward at times, please know that it was done with love.  It's amazing what the Lord can do with us if, when we are shown our weaknesses (spiritually 'poked'), are humble enough to make the self-bettering changes.

I'm off to take a turn vacuuming the garage mat :)  And then I'll call Bonnie and we can feel sorry for each other all over again.  If I could just find my receipt for the cat I could take it back to Betsy - oh wait, it was 'free'.

p.s.  A side note - I have taken the cat to the vet to check for skin diseases.  She's clear on mites and skin problems.  I asked if there is an anti-anxiety pill for cats.  Unfortunately, there isn't.  He did say that Prozac works great for dogs but the only think he could offer is to try birth control (for the cat, not me) and see if it helped.  Call me cheap but I am NOT going to pay for 'the Pill' (not to mention trying to get it down her throat every day) when I have already had her fixed.  We did have a brief spell two summers ago when Pumpkin would hunt out and eat the brown mushrooms in our lawn.  We would find her with a somewhat glazed look staring thoughtfully up at the sky.  Vanessa dubbed her the 'shroom, rehab cat.  Unfortunately, last summer she refused to eat the mushrooms (even when I led her to them - I hope that doesn't make me a drug pusher).  I promise they were for medicinal use (Mr. W.'s sanity) only.  I'm not kidding, even if you don't have anxiety, you will if you sit and watch Pumpkin for very long.

One day Daniel Vanfleet (our 4 year old neighbor) looked at our cat (with hair hanging out of it's mouth) and said, "Sister West, I really like your cat."  I told his parents that I hope he 'raises the bar' before he starts to date!  Apparently, the bar is VERY low when it comes to cats.

One Year

(Pretend that it's the 7th of July)

Happy Birthday

to you!

Happy Birthday

to you!

Happy Birthday

Jensen

and

Bradley!

Happy

Birthday

to you both!

Love, Grandma Nancy

Porches

I love porches.

Don't you just want to

sit on this porch

with an ice cold glass

of lemonade

and visit with a friend

or maybe rock a fussy baby?

St. George - May 2010

Success

What is success?

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people

and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics

and endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty;

To find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better,

whether by a healthy child,

a garden patch

or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier

because you have lived;

That is to have succeeded.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson~

Pine Valley & Jason

Last month Mr. W. had a conference in St. George.  I decided to go with him for a quick, two-night vacation (at least for me).  We had both heard a lot about Pine Valley and the Pine Valley Chapel.  The chapel is the oldest functioning LDS chapel in the world.  We had a little free time on Thursday evening and so we decided to drive out to Pine Valley.

If you have ever driven through any part of southern Utah, you know it consists of dirt, sagebrush and, in the really lush areas, pinion pine.  It generally is a harsh and rugged landscape.  As we headed north of St. George of SR18, we continued to see a lot of red dirt/rock, sagebrush and pinion pine with some lava rock mixed in here and there.  My thoughts of a lush, pastoral, mountain valley were beginning to wain and I concluded that Pine Valley was nothing more than another stark area of southern Utah.  We came to the turn off for Pine Valley, headed east, passed the 'Pine Valley established in 1850 rock marker', went a few more yards up over a rise in the road and then descended upon a breath-taking scene.  Laid out before us were acres of early spring farms with a skinny Main street running through the heart of the valley.  There were pioneer and modern homes to the left and right of Main Street strung along like charms on a bracelet.  The crowning piece was a beautifully maintained white wooden pioneer-era chapel nestled among pines perched on a green lawn.

I thought about how easily we could have missed this high mountain valley.  I thought about the faith that those early pioneers had shown in braving miles and miles of barren landscape in order to find, homestead and remain on this land.  That, instead of becoming bitter towards their prophet who had asked so much, they honored their God and their faith by constructing a beautiful chapel to worship in.  The journey had been worth it.

As we drove home, I thought of my Jason.  He was the child that God sent to me so that I could learn things I didn't know about Nancy.  Picture me and then picture my opposite.  That is Jason.  I spent the first year of his life trying to get through his colic and the next eighteen years trying to get him to hold still.  All of my efforts to get Jason to tie his shoes were in vain.  It wasn't until his 2nd grade teacher offered him 'funny money' (a classroom incentive) in exchange for tied shoes that he kept them tied.  (His wife is now trying to get him to tie them.)  Jason wears his heart on his sleeve.  If he is happy, you know it.  If he is upset (which is rarely), it shows.  We joke that he is our 'Tom Sawyer'.  He has the innate ability to attract a crowd if work is involved.
  

There is a famous story in my family about Jason.  He was picking cherries for my dad.  I know he viewed it as a service project but my dad viewed it as employment.  My dad takes farming very seriously, it was the bread and butter for our family for many years.  He got on Jason's case about a handful of cherries that Jason had left at the top of the tree (a very tall cherry tree I might add).  Jason looked up at the cherries and asked my dad how much he thought they were worth.  My dad answered that there was probably 25 cents worth of cherries tucked away on that highest limb.  Jason promptly pulled out a quarter, gave it to my dad and said his life was worth more than a quarter's worth of cherries and that he and my dad were even.

If Jason did not see an immediate benefit/application for any task he was asked to do, he didn't do it.  He was impervious to guilt (a skill highly honed on my side of the family and a huge motivator for me - very unhealthy).  Our Pleasant Grove neighbor commented that he thought Jason's name was two words - Jay Son - because that's how he heard me say/yell it outside in our yard.  Jason attracted a variety of friends but never compromised his standards.  His 5th grade teacher said he could be the next David Letterman (that was before we knew all about Letterman).  Jason does not have a mean bone in his body and can make just about anyone laugh.

Because of our differences (of course in my immaturity, I knew I was RIGHT and he needed fixing), there were times that felt like red rock and sagebrush as I struggled to make Jason more like me.  I am embarrassed to admit that there were many times I didn't enjoy Jason (in all of his Jasonness) more and recognize his incredible gifts sooner.  I like to say that our boys (who were 13 months apart) were creative but not criminal (to my knowledge).  The long and short of it is that I just couldn't understand why Jason didn't want to be more like me.

But here is my Pine Valley.  After what often felt like a loonnnggg trip, a lot of one foot in front of the other, fixing doors, holes in the wall, sprinkler heads, wiping up motor oil throughout the house after a disastrous attempt to change the oil himself (in our driveway, ignoring my sage advice/threats) and many other adventures, I have come over the hill to view a scene I had hoped for but had not always had patience for.  An honorable mission to Japan, a temple marriage and fatherhood.  I now see Jason as a kind and loving husband and father.  His tenderness and love for those sweet twin boys is humbling to watch.  It is something that I have hoped for, worked for, prayed for and watched for but sometimes, in the weariness of the trip, I lost sight of.

Oh, Jason still loves the Simpsons (to my distress) and his shoes are often untied but after a long and 'eventful' trek, I think we have both arrived at our Pine Valley.  Young mothers, hold on.  It's hard, really hard but so worth it.  Try to enjoy the sagebrush years because one of these days when you least expect it, you'll come up over the hill to your Pine Valley.