Reverence is the Atmosphere of Heaven

     A few weeks ago, on Sunday--lots of my experiences occur on the sabbath--I was sitting in sacrament meeting with my family. We were seated towards the back of the chapel, on cloth covered chairs, surrounded by neighbors and friends. I was a bit on the frazzled side; trying to control Ian and keep him from teasing Christeal so that she doesn't screech will do that to you. Ian was lap hopping. He started with me, went several chairs down to Beka, and back up to Tawni, where he seemed to finally be comfortable. Tawni was lightly bouncing her legs, like a horse, and Ian was happy in the saddle. Around us, the deacons were passing the sacrament and aside from an occasional shriek from Christeal, all was well. I looked at my beautiful daughters, and at my son passing the bread, and my heart swelled with motherly affection and pride. What a wonderful family. I felt so blessed and at peace to be their mother. I sighed with contentment and smiled at my children.
     And that's when it happened.
     Tawni bounced Ian just a little too hard and he bent forward in half and almost fell off her lap. Luckily he stayed in the saddle. Unfortunately, the bounce caused an explosion from his nether regions, and it went off like TNT, C-4, and nitroglycerin mixed into one wicked cocktail.
     Oh the horror.
     Oh the odor.
     Oh the humor.
     Predictably, Ian crumpled into a lump of out-of-control giggles. Tawni and Beka dissolved next. Poor Tawni. This grave offense occurred on her body. She was torn between fits of mirth and fits of "I feel so violated!" I tried to keep it together, but the harder you try not to laugh, the more you snort. Facial contortions, rivers of mascara filled tears, wheezes... I knew if I wasn't careful, my laughter might cause an explosion of my own. My only recourse was to take my boy by the hand and lead him from the chapel. Because God knew we couldn't stay there.
     As I stood from my seat, I saw the faces of my peers, my reverent neighbors with properly behaved children who don't suffer from bodily noises.
     They were all smiling.

Team Jesus

     I recently became aware that people other than my family read this blog. Apparently I have fans. And my fans are disappointed because I haven't written anything in over a month. I can use the excuse that I've been busy, but who isn't? I can try to make people believe that I ran out of writing material. But with five kids and one of them being Ian, that's about as likely as no road construction in Sandy. It boils down to this. I don't have an excuse. Just wasn't in the mood, I guess. But summer is now here, and with it's arrival, I find myself feeling much more relaxed, it's easier to focus, I'm happier, and motivated.  I think I can write now.
     Sunday night was an amazing display of natures ability to get down with static electricity. If you didn't see the show, you missed out. We had family over because it was Beka's fifteenth birthday. Mindi and Bryon and their kids hung around after the others left. We went outside to enjoy the storm and lied on our backs on the grass to get a premium view of the sparks overhead. To the south, the clouds were dark and threatening. To the north, they were illuminated by the sun. And that's when the conversations started.

     Ian: Those dark clouds are Satan's. And those light clouds are from Jesus.
     Tanner: Go team Jesus!
     Ian: Yeah! Team Jesus!
     Ian: Satan makes the lightning into skeletons.
     Me: Satan doesn't control the lightning.
     Ian: Yes, he does. He makes it skeletons and then tornadoes and it kills people.
     Bryon: Satan can't control the lightning. Only God can.
     Ian: Satan can too 'cause he is bad and tornadoes are bad. We are having a tornado?
     Me: No, Ian. This is just a storm with lots of lightning and thunder.
     Ian: Oh! It's raining! That means the angels are sad. Why are they crying?
     Me: The angels aren't sad. The clouds are full of water and they sprung a leak. You know when you
     have to pee? You feel full of pee and you have to let it out.
     Ian: The clouds are peeing! The clouds are pooping! Peeing and pooping!

     My little boys' brain was running on Energizer batteries that night. He went from one subject to another, one person to another... He was obsessed with tornadoes and fascinated by the lightning. He stuttered over words and his little face would screw up tight with concentration as he tried to get his mouth to catch up with his mind. He couldn't hold still, shut up, or sit down. And I loved him for it. He was pure Ian and as I looked at him, I marvelled at the power it took to create such a perfect life, such a beautiful boy... and the storm, awesome in might, paled by comparison.