"New York Doll"

If you haven't seen this film - really a documentary - yet, do everything in your power to watch it, soon. It will be particularly meaningful if you are a Latter-day Saint, but definitely isn't limited to an only-LDS audience. I hope I haven't posted about this before and am thus boring everybody, but this movie tells the story of Arthur "Killer" Kane, bassist for the New York Dolls, a rock band popular in the late 1970s, who joined the Church in 1989. I watched it tonight while I was walking on the treadmill. Somehow, his story fills me with gratitude and gives me hope and assurance that God gives us what we need most when it's most needed.

Recently I posted about a good day. Today was...less good. Sometimes I am absolutely awed (and concurrently angry!) that two children under the age of 4 years could so universally destroy each and every room of our house. That's each of the bedrooms, both of the bathrooms, the living areas, and even the basement. I have two options: I could become a Cleaning Nazi, which was my mom's tactic, or I can let them (more or less) loose in the house and tidy up later. I've been taking Option Two but I admit that I'd be much less successful without Dan's "Hurry Up and Clean" style after he gets home from work. (Then I remember this Ensign article I read once...this was from the 1970s, and it was encouraging women to better manage their lives, so that they could comb their hair, tidy up the house, put on a little lipstick and greet their husbands with a calm and loving smile when they returned from work. The feminist in me groans! It's a lovely ideal, but it would take a lot of grace to get me to that point.)

There is a Winter Storm Warning for the weekend here in MI. These things always disappoint, don't they? I mean, give me 2 feet of snow and cancelled church and completely impassable roads. THAT is a proper Winter Storm. Don't even classify it if we're just going to get a few inches of snow and some wind. Honestly.

I wish I had some pictures, or interesting stories, or whatever. The only thing I can thing of is Helena's comment tonight. She was about to get on the potty and take care of business, when she looked over at me and said, in complete seriousness, "Mom, I'm going to get on the potty and go pee, and then I'll flush the toilet and Bennie (our cat) can come in and have a drink. Bennie!!! Benihana!!!!"

And of course Hunter doesn't say much yet. But he is so precious! This is where only photos can approach justice for his adorability. He grins, he babbles, he crawls at lighting speeds around the house and up the stairs, with his trademark sashay (his little butt swings dramatically from side to side as he crawls.). His favorite thing to do - painful for the recipient but hilarious all the same - is to grab you by the hair and pull your head down to his tummy, where he fully expects you to give him Big Tickles. It's always worth the pain from the hair-pulling because he gives you Big Soul Laughs in exchange for the Big Tickles.

I'll try to get some more photos on here for next time...give you something worth looking at!

"Shouting is the sign of a weak mind straining to be heard."