Climbing the rungs of religion

From http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22921634:

Last fall, the head of the Mormon church's Relief Society delivered a treatise on motherhood that equated nurturing with keeping a tidy house. Women in poor countries who dress their daughters in clean, ironed dresses, the speaker said, honor a sacred covenant.

Julie B. Beck's exhortation at the church's General Conference that Mormon women strive to be "the best homemakers in the world" did not go unanswered. More than 250 women signed an online rebuttal.

I didn't even know this talk was controversial until my visiting teacher told me a few months ago. I was so comforted by it, so inspired and edified, I had no idea it could even cause offense! I have to admit I am the talk's target audience—a stay at home mother who has borne many children and who is doing my darnedest to raise them in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Perhaps this is why it didn't rub me the wrong way; it felt like pure, unadulterated truth to me, but one's own life usually does I suppose.

Still the article on MSN News today has rubbed me the wrong way.

...few expect major changes along the lines of opening the Mormon priesthood—an office granted only to Mormon men—to women.

Who is it that keeps gnawing on this old bone? Which sister in the church actually wants the priesthood? And why?

It seems evident to me that the "sisters" who bring this point up repeatedly are not active in the church. Why?

They don't understand the priesthood. Seriously. When has the priesthood ever been of benefit to the holder? What priesthood brother has ever gained something by having the priesthood? None. Not a single one. The priesthood is used entirely, entirely, to benefit others. A priesthood holder can't perform his own ordinances or give himself blessings. Every priesthoody thing he does is for the benefit of others.

Where does this get fun? Why is this something to envy and covet? I'm not bashing service, I want you to understand; but I have plenty of opportunities to serve (two funerals and a baby in the ward this week, two cakes and making phone assignments for the dinners) without adding the priesthood on top of that.

As for holding positions of "power" or authority: everyone knows that the proud man, the one who wants to be bishop or stake president or prophet, the one who really wants to run the church "right" (according to his own interpretation), is never the one who is called. Why? Because God issues the callings (bulletin: not the bishop!) and God sees inside their hearts and knows they aren't bishop/stake president/prophet material.

So all you get from holding the priesthood is the opportunity to do as God wills unto others. A blessing, sure, but one that we covet? Is it really any different than what we Relief Society sisters do in our own organization?

If I correctly assume that those who always are vocal about females and priesthood aren't active participants in the church, they wouldn't be eligible for the priesthood and leadership positions in any case. The ordination to exercise the priesthood and to serve the church in official capacities comes from faithful adherence to the tenets of the gospel, not outspoken rebellion.

Now, if only MSNBC would give me a forum so I could put this to rest once and for all! ;D

I imagine there's a party in heaven today.

I bet everyone there is excited Gordon B. Hinckley is back in town.

I cannot express my opinion of him highly enough. In life, he was the very, very best of men. I will miss hearing his voice, and his gentle sense of humor. Through ninety-seven years of unflagging, unselfish service he has earned his peaceful rest.



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Now playing: Chronicles of Narnia Soundtrack - The Wardrobe
via FoxyTunes

*pooped*

I've been trying to infuse order into this house, again. Here are some truths:

1. Kids mess a house up.
   
2. More kids mess a house up even more than fewer kids do. And as you all remember clearly, I have more kids.
   
3. In normal circumstances, sending a kid off to school for eight or so hours a day would give a house and a mother eight or so hours' reprieve in the messing.
   
4. I have no such reprieve, obviously; we're all here 24/7, and while some of us are busy with schooling the littlest ones are messing things up like it's a job, like their lives depend on it.

So the main rooms—the living and piano rooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen, my bedroom—are tidy most of the time and cleaned deeply with regularity. There may be a scattering of toys or books or even a play set up, but we're pretty presentable. The kids' bedrooms can get untidy, because they're kids, and because I don't go upstairs (where Em, C, L, and K live) or downstairs (where J, Eth, and M live) often enough to follow up on "Have you cleaned your room?" Sounds lazy? I admit it. But I tell them to clean their rooms twice daily, and I give them specific, do-able jobs like "Now go hang up all the shirts" or "Now fold and put away all the pants" or "All the shoes should be put away" so that they don't just go in and get overwhelmed. And then there's the dump, which began as a sewing and storage room and ended up as a (you guessed it) dump for everything no one wanted to take care of. And given all the things I have to do every day just to keep the living spaces livable and make the meals and school the children, I've watched passively as the dump's floor level rose an inch per month with rejected toys, shoes we can only find one of, towels that now have a hole, projects that didn't get finished, etc.

Every so often I try to reclaim various spaces. Usually bedrooms, because after I've tackled Kyrie's bedroom and the little boys' bedroom I'm tuckered out and don't have energy for more.

Thursday I cleaned Kyrie's bedroom. A place for everything, and it's so cute—a total wonderland for a four-year-old girl. Checkmark.

Then I started on the little boys' room, and got their drawers cleaned out and reorganized, shoes culled and reorganized, and toys all up on shelves but not organized. Half a check. Thought I could finish today.

Yesterday, crazily, I began on the dump. After two solid hours of sorting sorting sorting, I had most of the floor cleared off. And today, after another several hours I have boxes and boxes of sorted clothes for each child, toys have been returned to their rightful places, we have orderly deposits of coats and boots and things that we'll need eventually but no one fits in this year, my fabric is refolded and organized... There's still lots to do, but I've found the ugly green carpet in the sewing room (not a dump anymore!) and I've vacuumed and I'm well on my way.

And I'm exhausted.

So I needed a break from that tedium, and I decided to go and look at J, Eth, and M's room one more time to do a bit more there.

And here's where the disappointment thunders in: it is every bit as bad as it was Thursday when I went down. Almost nothing is left in drawers (why do they pull out all the clothes they're not wearing?!) not a single shoe in the shoe places, wall to wall toys and empty shelves, beds unmade.

What was all the effort for? Why did I even try? Of course I just want to curl into bed and sleep and forget about the little boys' room altogether. If they make it a pig sty and a hazard to walk across, then THEY DESERVE TO LIVE IN IT. Phphfft.

(But then a tiny voice inside me whispers: if I want a clean house despite having seven children, don't I deserve to live in it too?)

So with a deep, fortifying breath and a large gulp of cold water, I'm off to the little boys' room Of Doom to try again. And this time, we're getting rid of things. If there's too much for them to take care of, then some of it GOES. *pushes up sleeves*

Best cake EVER.

Okay, so today is my beloved Emma's fourteenth birthday. I know. Fourteen! It's mind-blowing. We had a whole day's worth of plans, which all had to be put aside this morning when Macklin began throwing up; so Emma called her best friend Bryn and together they went grocery shopping with Blaine (doesn't that sound like exactly what you'd want to do on your birthday?), wandering around Wal*Mart doing whatever they wanted while he filled the cart. Then Blaine took our eldest four and Emma's friend sledding in a blizzard. Fun times.

We had one of Emma's favorite meals for dinner—yakisoba, Japanese fried noodles and vegetables—but the best part of the entire thing (see subject) was the cake. We've been on a lemon cake jag for a while now, everyone wanting lemon on their birthday, so I was glad when Emma said, "Um, cinnamon?" It gave me a chance to flex my culinary muscles a little. So I made a regular white cake, but I took out two tablespoons of the dry ingredients and mixed in two tablespoons of sugar and one of cinnamon, sprinkling that over the batter and swirling it in. Tasty, sure, but it wouldn't have been something to blog about.

If it hadn't been for the brown sugar frosting. When she said "cinnamon" I thought "brown sugar" and the cake came together in my head; but together in the pan, and then in the plate (and then on the fork and then in my mouth) was something else entirely. It was just...seriously, it was too good. I could open a shop with this cake and frosting and nothing else.

Brown Sugar Frosting

1Tbsp butter (and I used margarine with great success)
5 Tbsp cream (which, soymilk works perfectly)
pinch salt
1 1/2 cups firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

In a small saucepan combine the brown sugar, margarine, cream/milk, and salt. Stir constantly over medium heat until the mixture comes to a boil. Remove from heat. Cool slightly, add vanilla, and beat until the frosting is cool and slightly thickened. If the frosting gets too thick, add a few more drops of cream.

But that's not how I made it. I used only 3/4 cup of brown sugar, because I wanted something really like frosting, spreadable, and this recipe didn't sound spreadable. (Actually—true confessions—it was more like icing, just the tiniest bit runny and oh-so-incredible.) So to the small saucepan I added 1/2 tsp of cinnamon and just 3/4 cup of brown sugar, and then as I was beating it while I cooled I added in powdered sugar in the normal-making-frosting way. It probably took 2 cups of powdered sugar, I didn't measure exactly, I just eyeballed it.

It was a thing of beauty, I'm telling you. If I could give you each a piece of this cake I would.

Happy birthday to my Emma Joy!

A clean slate. Again!

We had a delightful New Year celebration.

In mid-December we'd gone to a party where we played Name That Tune 80s. It was actually sort of embarrassing how good Blaine and I were at that game. I'm sure I came off like Hermione, answering every question before my teammates had even understood what was being asked. (They were younger than me, and didn't have the same knowledge of music in the 80s. And I was just having so much fun!!)

So I tried to think of people who would make worthy opponents for us, and I settled on my elder sister Joan and her husband Laron. We were all, collectively, so into music in the 80s. Well, and still, but that's something else altogether. So we packed up the clothes and the kitchen sink and we headed to SLC to my sister's house on New Year's Eve; the kids played like crazy with their cousins, we played Name That Tune, and a good time was had by all.

Except that my car is having transmission problems, and only made it half the distance to SLC. Yes, I'm bracing myself: this is the sort of thing that's probably going to cost $3000 to fix. Sigh. But the car is almost paid off and hasn't given us any trouble in the years we've owned it, and it's likely once we take care of this we'll be good for several more years. *pets Suburban* For the time being I'm driving Blaine's mom's Suburban, which is newer and oh-so-much-nicer. She has satellite radio, which might just be worth the "inconvenience" of not having my own car for a few days. *pets satellite radio*

Today I'm researching, planning, and making a list of my resolutions for this month, a companion list to my resolutions for the year. Last year I set out to do my resolutions on a monthly basis, and I kept up three or four resolutions a month for the first eight months. Very good things came of my efforts. So I'm trying again this year to break goals off into bite-sized chunks, and to focus on weeding out that which does me harm or little good and replace it with things that are dynamically good and improving.

Here goes! :)

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Now playing: Coldplay - Square One
via FoxyTunes