Reason 1,000,000 I Love Disney (and it's not theme park related!), or My Crazy Ward Strikes Again

Just to clarify: Will didn't record any of the adult students, plus my songs take a little longer to get through and polish, so I wouldn't have anything to record anyways.  Also, I did teach my kids for over a year, so it's not like they were newbies when they started with Will.

New Stuff:
I had a truly...unusual experience last week, and I wanted to write it down before I head off for Christmas craziness.  I know it sounds hokey, but really it felt truly amazing to me, and I don't want to forget it.

The last 4 months have been hard for me at church.  We had a new family move in, and the wife was put into the leadership position in the organization I work in at church after they had only been there a few weeks.  It seemed like a great thing that we got a strong family and they were willing to be in hard callings.  Over the course of the last 4 months I have found myself dreading going to church more and more because of this woman.

I didn't really think that one person could affect me to the point where I questioned whether I wanted to continue going to church.  I have a very strong testimony of the Gospel.  I have faced harder threats to my testimony and willingness to go to church, and I have come through them all feeling stronger.  I think the difference is they were clear threats, powerful, immediate threats.  This was more gradual and sneaky.

I don't think I need to get into specifics, but lets just say that it came to feel like junior high again very quickly, and I tried very hard to just hide behind my piano and enjoy the calling I love.  Last Sunday she decided that my behavior was such that I deserved to be publicly ignored (for realsies.  Straight up "I can't see or hear you so you don't exist" ignored).  Being the Beesley that I am, I started crying.

She decided that I needed to go in the hall with her and she proceeded to tell me all the things that were wrong with me.  All the ways I am bad, rude, and ineffectual.  Being a Beesley I cried even harder, but being me I didn't take it laying down.  I explained how I had been effected by her, and I left church that day feeling horrible.  I don't know how many people have been reamed out for their personality at church, but it was actually pretty traumatic.

Intellectually I knew the Gospel is true, emotionally I didn't know how I could ever go back.  I spent a good 4 solid days of crying, praying, and talking to those I love, to try and get myself to a point where I felt like I wasn't going to throw up if I walked back in the church.  Nothing seemed to be helping.

On Thursday night the girls had been listening to the Frozen soundtrack and asked if I could play the song "Let it Go" on the piano for them.  We looked up the music, and we took it over to the piano.  My girls started singing with all their hearts, and suddenly in the middle, my heart was touched so deeply that I started crying again, this time from happiness.  The words aren't a perfect match to my situation. I had heard the song several times before that day and was not this affected. It is not that I heard it and went "Wow, that is perfect for what I am going through."  It was honestly just a few key lines that touched my heart through my beautiful girls earnest singing.

 Specifically they were "It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small. And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all."  It was a subtle reminder that eventually, with time, it wouldn't hurt so much, and also that I couldn't let that experience rule me.

It was only the second time that has ever happened to me, where I felt a personal message to me, through the Spirit, from a song, but both times have been life changing for me and I will treasure them forever.  I went to Church on Sunday, didn't throw up, and actually had a good time being there.  I am so grateful.

On The Bright Side of Crazy People

I am having a VERY hard time with our new primary president.  We have fundamental difference on how to interact with children, other adults, and even basic gospel tenants.  The only week I haven't come home crying from church was the week she wasn't there.

We have our ward primary program next week and it has been a crazy fest.  I don't enjoy being told what to do and micromanaged like a low level lackey in a huge corporation, but there was a bright side.  She informed me I would be playing a duet with Ethan.  Didn't ask either of us, just told us we would be doing it.  She told me to just write a piece to play.  I informed her I don't write music and she told me her 12 year old daughter was musical enough to do it if I found myself lacking.

I luckily found a Sally DeFord piece that required minimal changes to it for Ethan.  Ella found out and felt left out.  I couldn't find any other duets for any of the songs we are performing so I was at a loss.  I asked my piano teacher and in his infinite wisdom he basically said "Quit whining.  You can write one."  So I did.  It's not amazing, but it IS prettier than the original and Ella is very proud.  I've ended up rewriting the arrangements for 3 songs now and even though they probably all sound the same I am pretty proud of them.

I still don't want to go to primary but I am thankful to that crazy woman for pushing me.

Here are the kids playing their songs. They originally were playing with both hands, but they were getting nervous, and this is their first time playing in front on anyone, so we simplified.  (note to self, do not wear baggy shirts next to tiny people):

Somebody Stop Me, or Like This Post My Words Keep Going and Going and Going...

I am not very good at not speaking my mind, just in general.  I have a hard time hiding how I feel (ok, I can't hide it at all), and for the most part I say what I think.  Before my trip to California I was not in a great place which made me have even more vocal diarrhea.

Hopefully my friend doesn't care that I am sharing this because she was only tangenantly involved.  Yes "tangenangtly."  She had just had her 5th baby and had a nerve thingy which made it so she couldn't walk.  I knew my ward was eager to help, but one day when I, through our texting, found out she didn't have anything lined up for dinner all week.  After making dinner I texted my Relief Society president to find out if they could set up food for the rest of the week.  Here is my text word for word-

"Just wondering if there were any meals planned for Melissa. All her help is gone and she still can't do much.  I am making dinner tonight but hoping relief society can manage a few more."

 I probably shouldn't have written "manage" because it is one of those word that can take on multiple implications depending on tone of voice.  My Relief Society president kept calling until I answered and was very defensive and here is our conversation:

Her: I have 20 people lined up to bring dinner but Chad said they didn't need dinner this week.

Me: Ok, I just went over this afternoon and they didn't have dinner so I thought I would check on the rest of the week.

Her: Nicole, I checked with Chad on Sunday and he said he took this week off so they didn't need dinner.

Me: I know he didn't take today off because I drove the kids from school and I know he took last week off.

Her: Nicole, Charity is bringing the kids home, Nicole.

Me: ????? Um, well I am actually doing Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays and Charity is doing Tuesday and Thursday.

Her: NICOLE, I know that Charity is taking their kids home.

Me: I don't know why that even matters, all I wanted was to make sure they had dinners.

Her: NICOLE, I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU THINK I DON'T HAVE DINNER PLANNED FOR THEM.  I HAVE PEOPLE LINED UP, NICOLE.  I JUST NEED THE OK FROM THEM TO BRING DINNER, NICOLE.  I KNOW CHARITY IS DRIVING THE KIDS HOME, NICOLE, AND THERE ARE LOTS OF PEOPLE THAT WANT TO HELP.  NICOLE, I DONT KNOW WHY YOU THINK WE DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM!!!

At this point I was severely annoyed, not only by the unexplainable overuse of my name, but by the volume and the fact that no matter how hard I tried to interject and end the conversation she just kept steam rolling over me and wouldn't let me talk.  I had had one of the worst psychological days in my life and this wasn't helping.  I hadn't talked to anyone all day before she called, because I knew if I talked to people I would end up being mean to them.  I was right.  I finally yelled over her

"ALL RIGHT I GET IT.  I WAS NOT TRYING TO IMPLY YOU AREN'T DOING YOUR JOB.  I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE THEY HAD FOOD."

And I hung up.

Not a great story, but it makes the next one make a little more sense.

A few days later at Disneyland Ethan and Ella really wanted to go on the Tower of Terror.  I really don't like that ride, but Ella really wanted to go on it for the first time so I agreed to go:

Ella was a little scarred from the amazing spooky ambiance Disney accomplished and was holding my hand and staying close to my side.  We got shuffled into a room where they show you a video about the "history" of the hotel.  At one point in the film a teenager thought she would be funny and yell at the top of her lungs at a particularly intense point.  Everyone jumped and Ella clung harder to my hand.  I looked over and noticed a little girl, probably 4 or 5 and she looked spooked!  At the end of the video the lights go out for a second and that same teen screamed at the TOP of her lungs.  Exasperated, and having no control or filter anymore, I said loudly "You know, there are little kids in here!"  Then I felt stupid, because that is who I am, and I worry constantly about being shot or stabbed when I complain about something in Southern California.  But then two other people said "Yeah!" so I felt a little better until...we were right behind them in line to get seated.

We, of course, were put in the front row, and they were in the row behind us.  Since they had been mumbling and looking back at me I really did not want to sit in front of them.  I explained that my kids were a little scared (ok, maybe it was me) and would they mind switching us so we wouldn't be right in the front.  They debated in some language I didn't understand and agreed.  Then about 2 second later I realized, nope, we HAD been in the back row and had switched them for the middle.  Now we really were in front of them.  Feeling even stupider (if that was possible), and because I couldn't stop myself,  I explained my mistake and asked if they minded switching back.  They really didn't want to but I explained (insisted) that my kids (me) would do much better in the back.

I guess sometimes it pays to keep talking.  We didn't end up getting stabbed in the neck with a turkey thermometer either!

Is This Better or Worse?

A few weeks ago I filled in for our organist on Sunday.  He asked me several weeks ahead of time so of course I promptly forgot.  I remembered the Thursday before which means I was 2 days late to let the program lady know what the songs were (she expects them no later than 7pm on Tuesday night).  I don't know if I ever mentioned the feud we had going when I was an organist but I will recap.

It started when I kept forgetting to get her the songs in time.  Honestly I am a good enough pianist I don't need a whole week to practice and Tuesday IS early to provide information.  She put "N/A" for a while.  Then she moved on to writing "Not Provided" in the song area.  She then put "Not Provided In Time" which made me purposefully forget to give her the numbers and earned her a talking to by the Bishop.  Things got a little better going back down to "Not Provided."

I eventually got released and promptly forgot about it. We got a new bishop so I guess she feels a little more free in what she can write.  A few weeks ago, when I filled in, I didn't provide it in time and she wrote "Look At Stage For Numbers On Board."  Wow.

What happened to leaving it blank or just writing TBA ????

A random cute picture of a puppy I wanted but Eric wouldn't let me get.  Because every post needs something to look at!

"Let's Get The H@$& Out Of Here!!!"

My family has a little saying based on a church meeting from my parents younger years.  In a Stake Conference (I think) in front of a visiting General Authority a little boy was making a stink and his dad picked him up to carry him out.  As he was being carried out the little boy yelled at the top of his lungs "Let's get the he** out of here!"  We've changed it to "heck" but it still is a great all-purpose comment.

Being a member of the Church has many opportunities to either laugh or be offended.  Since I love to laugh, and being offended takes too much energy, I find myself laughing more and more the smaller our ward gets.

Yesterday we had the (mis)fortune of sitting in the second row right in front of the first counselor's family.  They are a wonderful family, a great addition to the ward, but one of their little girls has some learning/behavior problems and tends to act out in Sacrament meeting.  Our friend, Chad, was giving a talk and this is what happened (paraphrased since I didn't record it for accuracy, dang it):

Chad: If we are feeling unhappy we need to look down deep down into ourselves and find the ways we need to be better...

Girl: "NO, YOU JERK!!!

Chad:(stunned pause) We can do a better job of reading our scriptures...

Girl: NO!!!

Chad: (slighter pause) We can be better about saying our prayers...

Girl: NNOOO!!!!!!

Chad: (trying hard to ignore what is going on) And try to live our lives according to the Gospel...

Girl: NNNNOOOOOO!!!!!!

Luckily Chad is a pretty mellow guy and rolled with the "commentary."  Sitting in front of the family we happened to know the little girl was actually screaming at her brother who was trying to take her markers, but for anyone else it may have seemed as though she REALLY did not want to try and live a better life!

Anyone else have any "fun" Church stories?  I always love them!

Read-Alongs With 3 Year Olds

We had a primary activity for the kids yesterday.  They were doing a read-along, which in theory could be really fun.  The problem is that the 3 year olds...well...they can't read.  There was a VERY long practice and then parents were invited to the final performance.  By the time Eric and I got there Livi was done. 

She tried to do her part.

Then she started fidgeting and whining.  Then she started asking, loudly, if she could go now.

Finally she started crawling off the stage, which is where I decided to intercede.

Livi was much happier being on my lap, but I think that had more to do with the treats they provided for the audience!

Going To Heck In An Easter Basket

Easter is probably the hardest holiday for me, weight wise. I LOVE Easter candy. Not just a 12 year old girl type of crush, but a full blown stalker, want to marry it, LOVE. I have zero self control when confronted with Mini Eggs. Marshmallow Peeps tremble in fear when they see my shadow. I have been known to hide Creme Eggs from the kids so I can have them all to myself once the kidos go to bed.

That being said, I have been really ridiculously good this Easter season. I didn't buy any candy ahead of time, even though they have been in stores since February. I resisted the siren song of the Easter isle at Walmart! At least I was good, until the Easter Bunny came. I even left a note that asked him to leave less candy than usual so I wouldn't be as tempted. He left movies, stickers, even lip gloss, but there was still enough candy for me to lose all the self control I had maintained in one chocolaty binge. I think I ate my weight in sugar yesterday.

Enough about me, here are some highlights:

The day before our ward had an Easter Egg Hunt at a members house. Another benefit to living in Nebraska is that people actually live on farms here. The house we went to had several acres and the Bishopric hid over 900 eggs. They had an under 3 category for the little kids and Livi seemed to have a theme to her egg picking.
Ella and Ethan, not being the most...aggressive...egg hunters only got a handful of eggs. They tended to hang back from the mass of kids that were running like dogs after a duck (which I have seen too often).
That night I was guilted into hosting a BBQ for the two girls (and their families) that I was accompanying on the piano for Easter (long story), so we had to hurry and dye eggs before everyone arrived. Ethan wanted something a little more than just color for his eggs and he was a little put out that we didn't have time (Eric told him he had to smile, but he snuck in his two cents).
Easter morning the Easter Bunny put out the traditional clues for a treasure hunt and then since it was only 23 degrees outside the egg hunt was in the living room. After church I remembered I hadn't taken any dress-up pictures so we headed outside where I took about a hundred photos only to realize once we got back in the house that I didn't have a memory card in my camera so we headed back out for an abbreviated retry. Livi was a little hyped up on sugar and tired of being good so these were the results:

I did get a few cute ones though. A big "Thank You" goes out to our neighbors for ruining a cute picture of Ethan and Livi by leaving their old, junky, non running truck right in front of our house because it is so unattractive that they don't want it parked in front of their house. No joke.

And here are a few, mostly boring, videos (Livi has some funny reactions):

Rocking Out At The Ward Party

Saturday was one of the best ward activities I have ever been to! It was totally unique, a chance to support a lot of members of the ward, super fun, and increased good will in the community. Did we paint a fence? Nope. Did we do yard work at a cemetery? Nope. Did we help in a soup kitchen? Nope.

We went to a basketball game.Yep we went to the local community college's basketball game. The head coach and one of the assistant coaches are members of our ward along with 4 or 5 of the guys on the team (since the coach recruits quite a few members). We held a "tail gate party" before hand, which since it is February in Nebraska meant we had hot dogs in the gym at the church. All of the members of the team where there and we got to know quite a few of them. They have players not only from the usual Utah and Arizona, but 2 from Mexico and even one from Serbia! They were all really nice guys and it was great to actually know a little about them before we went to cheer for them.

The ward also had materials to make posters and the coaches wife even had signs with her husbands face that we held up when our team scored, which was often. They thanked the ward, twice, at the game, for sponsoring the players and having the cook out, and we made up a big section of the audience at the game. It reminded me a little of the games at Paraclete where the scores of one team where double the other. Only in this case I got to cheer for the winning team! My favorite part was this:

and this:

I Need to Vent or My Shoes Rock So Shut It.

I need to vent. My best friend is out of town, my Mom is always busy on Sunday, and Eric doesn't fully appreciate the emotional pain I am in, so I am going to throw this out there to my sister and sisters-in-law who I know will understand.

For some reason my ward (whom I really do love) just doesn't seem to understand me. I knew I was in for a different type of town when I walked in the Target for the first time and not only was I the skinniest person there but I was also the only one not in pajama bottoms. I knew from looking around our ward the first time that most of the women were the wonderful homemaker types that favor one piece dresses and practical brown shoes. It was all fine. It was a welcome breath of fresh air.

The only problem is they don't see me the same way. It started a few months ago when I wore a new pair of shoes and the ward choir had a ten minute discussion about how many pairs of shoes I own, and why it was ridiculous....while I was sitting there at the piano. I felt like the penguins from Madagascar "Smile and wave boys, smile and wave."

Then a woman took me aside to tell me that I was "brave" to own a pair of zebra stripe heels because "I couldn't own a pair of shoes I could only wear with one outfit." I held my tongue and didn't say "Well that shows you lack imagination. I can think of 10 outfits, at least, I can wear with these."

I held my tongue when that same woman told me she wouldn't wear my shoes because she had been raised with different values (they were open toed).

I smiled and laughed when someone told me my beautiful knee high boots "seemed a bit much."

I also held my tongue when a different woman in the ward told me "your shoes are too busy," while I was wearing my metallic snake skin shoes. Well, I am done holding my tongue (and by that I mean the only person in this city that reads my blog is my best friend Melissa and she will commiserate with me because she actually has a sense of style).

Today our Relief Society had a great lesson on addiction. It was based on one of my favorite conference talks and I was loving it, learning and feeling the spirit. I laughed with everyone else about our addictions to chocolate, or tv, or shopping, but I stopped laughing when the teacher, closing up the section on shopping addiction said "I don't really get it. I'm not like Sister Stott and her shopping or shoes..." okay, wait, what? I admit I love shopping and I LOVE shoes, but what in the world. I had to raise my hand and laughingly say (just for the record) that I have never shopped to the detriment of my mortgage payment or kids clothing, or food needs. I know I don't quite fit in, and I know I can be overly sensitive, but am I making a mountain out of a mole hill? How do I deal with all these women who take it on themselves to point out how wrong I am? Arrrggghhh.