Broken

I can't tell you how many things I've broken in our sink.  It's cast iron.  It's tough.  If I drop something in there, the sink wins, without contest, every time.

Today someone accidentally bumped my glass blender jar into the sink.  It didn't stand a chance.

Have you ever noticed how everything breaks at the same time?  And when you're at your poorest?

Here's a list of things that have broken since Ethan started working part-time so he could apply for jobs full-time:

• The 6 CD changer in our Suburban (Don't really know what happened here.  It just all of a sudden stopped playing CDs.  And all the CDs are still stuck inside)
• The O2 sensor in our Suburban
• The plumbing in our basement for the washing machine (It's kind of a long story so I won't explain the problem but we've been doing laundry at the laundromat for the last five months)
• The computer printer
• The blender
• A shelf from my refrigerator (I totally shattered it)

Hmmm, that might be it.  That's not too bad.

Actually, I'm not complaining.  This post is all in good fun (I'm sure it will all be funny someday).  As mentioned in a previous post, I see so many of my friends or family members struggling with serious problems, I'm glad to have these be some of the biggest problems we have right now.

In other news,

Libby brought a bag of chocolate chips to me this morning, asking if she could have some.  I told her no (to which she replied she didn't like me and she stomped her way upstairs) but I wondered how she got the bag down.  I purposefully put the chocolate chips very high up on the shelf so she, specifically, can't get to them because she has a habit of sneaking down in the early morning hours before I'm awake to eat whatever she can get a hold of.

Here's what I found in the kitchen:

I'm actually impressed she got the bucket of oats on the stool.  It's pretty heavy.  I'm also grateful she didn't topple over.

The Latest Mishap

Blueberry syrup.  On the couch.  An entire bottle.  Broken.

My pantry is a big, open shelf.  The kids loves to play with the items.  I let them because they are usually pretty good about cleaning up after themselves.  This particular time, they were tossing all the items onto the couch.  The blueberry syrup bottle landed on top of the glass jar of couscous.

That was a fun one to clean up.

The pillow was a goner.  The couch came out okay . . . mostly.

On to November

And just like that, October is over.  I can't believe I didn't get one post in the whole month.

We enjoyed our annual trip to Porcupine Damn to see the salmon run.

We had loads of fun for the one day we had snow:

My kids were hilarious.  They knew snow was in the forecast and prayed that it would snow a lot.  When Hudson woke up the next morning he was like any other kid on Christmas morning.  That kid LOVES snow.  I've been hoping we could end up getting a job somewhere that has lots of snow but it may not work out that way for us.

We went to the annual Pumpkin Walk.

We've raked up and played in the fall leaves.  That was hours of excitement for sure.

Except for that one cold snap that brought the snow, we've been enjoying a very lovely fall.  It's been gorgeous outside.  How I love that sunshine.  And the leaves!  So vibrant this year.

Ethan's still been looking for work.  No luck yet.

And now we are on to November, and enjoying the rest of the loveliness that autumn has to give us.

Mountains to Climb

I was sitting in church today thinking about the many people I know that are experiencing major trials right now.  It's not just a few.  There's job loss, premature babies, cancer, divorce, strokes, death and more just in my little world of friends and family.  It seems times are tough for just about everyone right now.  Here in our own little Nuttall home, that is no exception.  It's been over six months since Ethan graduated with his MBA and we are still looking for work.  Now, I know that is small fries compared to all the things other people are going through, and that humbles me.

As I was pondering trials today, my thoughts turned to how I seem to have this innate desire for everything to be easy.  True, that may be a common trait amongst all of us humans, but I think I have an extra dose of it.

All my life, it seems, I've been doing what I can to make things easy.  During my schooling years, I only did the easy assignments or took the easy classes.  Wouldn't want to challenge myself and make things too difficult!  I rarely add extra things to my schedule, keeping to the most essential tasks.  I keep my hobbies simple and few.  I'm constantly evaluating the things in our home - do we have too much?  What could I get rid of to make things easier?

I stress easily.  I get overwhelmed easily.  So I try to avoid situations where those feelings might occur.

Wanting things to be simple and easy is such a part of me that I began to wonder if I was this way before I came to earth.  Surely life wasn't easy in our premortal existence - there was a war in heaven after all.  I imagined how I must have run to our Heavenly Father for comfort many times.  "Why does it have to bee so hard?" I'd ask.  "Why must there be so much suffering?"

What would Father's response have been to such questions?

Painting by David Bowman

I don't know if this is right, or true, but this is what came to me today as I was thinking about it: he would have said,  "If life was easy it wouldn't be worth living."

Really?  Because I can imagine a wonderful life full of peace and no problems.  Of course I'm kidding . . . mostly, because I know we need trials in our lives.  Trials help us develop, mature, they help us grow  closer to our Savior, they help us to appreciate the good times, they keep us humble, they teach us to empathize, trials test our faith.  Apparently trials are awesome!  I guess I forgot that.

What if, instead of being frustrated and stressed when trials come upon us, we welcome the challenge, knowing what opportunities trials bring?  Could we welcome the hard times knowing that our Heavenly Father uses those times to shape us, to refine us, like in the refiner's fire?

In a conference talk, President Spencer W. Kimball retold a story of Caleb from the Old Testament in which Caleb, confronted with a problem, said to the Lord, "Give me this mountain."

President Kimball said:

There are great challenges ahead of us, giant opportunities to be met. I welcome that exciting prospect and feel to say to the Lord, humbly, “Give me this mountain,” give me these challenges.

Grand Teton Mountains

How many of us have asked for a trial?  President Eyring has.  He read President Kimball's talk and decided to pray to receive a trial.

He recounted:

Within a day or two my prayer was answered. The hardest trial of my life surprised and humbled me. It provided me a twofold lesson. First, I had clear proof that God heard and answered my prayer of faith. But second, I began a tutorial that still goes on to learn about why I felt with such confidence that night that a great blessing could come from adversity to more than compensate for any cost.

Adversity brings blessings.  Great blessings.

President James E. Faust said:

Here, then, is a great truth. In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through a refiner’s fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong. In this way the divine image can be mirrored from the soul. It is part of the purging toll exacted of some to become acquainted with God. In the agonies of life, we seem to listen better to the faint, godly whisperings of the Divine Shepherd.

Out of the refiner’s fire can come a glorious deliverance. It can be a noble and lasting rebirth. The price to become acquainted with God will have been paid. There can come a sacred peace. There will be a reawakening of dormant, inner resources. A comfortable cloak of righteousness will be drawn around us to protect us and to keep us warm spiritually. Self-pity will vanish as our blessings are counted.

I'm learning I need to be grateful for these hard times.  We all do.  It's good for us, it really is.

To all of us out there suffering right now, let's be happy.  Let's be grateful.  Let's feel blessed.  And let's say, "Lord, give me this mountain."  Because, I know, that with the Lord's help, we can conquer these mountains.

And we'll come out better, happier people on the other side.

It Makes Me Smile

"Mom!  I squibble my nibbles!"

Not Quite What I'd Asked For

I folded Libby's laundry and placed it in a basket.  I handed her the basket and asked, "would you please put your laundry away?"  I came back ten minutes later to see if she'd finished . . .

Not only did she NOT put her laundry away, piling it on the floor instead, but, as a bonus, she took all the clothes out of her drawers and put them in the pile, too.

What Would You Like?

My grandma and grandpa have given us the Taste of Home magazine for Christmas the last few years.  We really enjoy looking through it and picking out things to make.  I got a new issue last week and thought it would be fun to give the kids little sticky flags and tell them to put a flag on any recipe they would like me to make.  Maria had orange flags, Hudson had blue and Libby had yellow flags.

 They picked out more than I expected:

Of course, some of them got a little carried away:

Libby picked this.  "Libby," I said, "you're suppose to pick things you want me to make.  That's a bed."  "But I want that bed for you," she said.

They did make some nice selections, though.  They all picked this:

Hmmmm.  Apple Butter Pumpkin Pie.  I think I'll have to make that.