The children were all finally in bed. I turned to Nate and asked, “Do you remember when we lived in Springville and you would come home from work? We’d eat dinner, I’d do the dishes, and we’d all go for a walk?”

He nodded.

I glanced at the clock showing 9 PM. “I’m still on the do the dishes part.”

The teacher went on to explain that this illustrated the need for balance in our lives and how we shouldn’t accept more than we can handle. I didn’t listen to a thing she said after that. I wanted to jump up and demonstrate how the volunteer girl could have accepted more if only she’d been willing to take a moment and reorder the books in her arms. It’s how I’ve always lived my life: shuffling my responsibilities and activities around until things run smoothly.

I shared this experience with my sister-in-law Hayley a few years ago. When my husband was called as bishop when our fifth child was four-weeks-old, Hayley told Nate, “Tell Katrina it’s time to restack the books.” And I did. And life continued.

However, these last seven and a half months I’ve felt like an iPod stuck on shuffle . The magic reordering remains illusive. Seventeen years later, I finally understand the object lesson. I had to put a few books down last night. Relief? Yes. Sadness? Yes. Peace? Yes.

Yesterday.

Today.

“Mom why are you trying to be fat?”

“It’s not fat, it’s the the baby,” I said.

“Uh-uh. I can see your back. It’s bent. You’re pushing your tummy out.”

Many are bemoaning the recent heavy snowfall. However, I’m grateful for the storm. We need several more just like it if we want water enough for our summer crops.

Perhaps we could all learn a lesson from my children who played until well past dark enjoying the new snow. Today as they donned coats and boots before school, they were discussing the improvements they will make to their tunnel system this afternoon. (Snowball throwers just happen to make great tunnel diggers with the side benefit of creating perfect snowballs.)

Enjoy the moment.

One year ago I pulled into a Cabela’s parking lot for the first time. (I’m behind the times, I know.) I got out of my car and started walking towards the door where other customers were coming and going. A couple of people exited the store carrying rifles. Another man pulled a gun from the back of his parked car before continuing to the doors. A little ways past the massive entry three men held and admired another gun. And I felt at home. Now I know that probably seems a strange reaction to most of you, but I felt comfortable there–like I understood these people. I also realized the irony most would see of feeling at home surrounded by people carrying guns. So let me explain.

I grew up in a family that hunted. All the meat in our house came from deer and elk hunts and summer fishing trips. When I was in high school, my mom bought some hamburger and made sloppy joes with it. We all wanted to know what ingredients she had left out or changed to make it taste so different. We weren’t accustomed to hamburger. Guns were a way of life in my world and since I experienced a safe and happy childhood, my peaceful response at seeing others toting guns in and out of Cabela’s isn’t all that strange after all.

Have you ever felt comfortable in a place that popular society says you shouldn’t?

Nate stepped out the door, milk bucket in hand, but quickly returned for the camera.

Mother Math by Jennifer

Here’s my husband having a grand old time at his grandparents’ home, circa 1972. After a recent similar experience (read on!) I’m amazed that his grandmother paused to take a picture before yanking him away. I suppose that’s a grandparent’s privilege!

My husband permanently excused himself from any sort of advanced homework help when he glanced at our then sixth-grade son’s math worksheet and airily said, “Oh, I don’t know how to do that. Go ask your mom.”

Far from admitting any weakness, this move of my husband’s was pure genius. I wish I’d thought of it first.

Like it or not, I’m now the sole information desk for kids with ages in the double digits. It can fry the brain cells, I tell you. (Not to mention the nerves.) Concerning math, my career ended in high school long, long ago. I have the dubious distinction of having graduated from college without ever taking a math class. (Yay, AP calculus!)

Yet math is everywhere, right? So in an effort to brush up on my skills, I present the kind of math that abounds in our household. I can thank the first vivid equation for inspiring me to think in such mathematical terms.

• A 4-year-old who seldom flushes + 1-year-old who loves to splash = a 97-decibel scream of discovery, 15 towels and a mid-afternoon bath (thus rewarding 1-year-old who loves to splash). Sigh . . . (and no, I was not calm enough to take a picture!)

• Kid with candy + dad in the room = “Daddy tax.”
This sum is the same as: Kid – candy.

• Teenage boy’s hunger is directly proportional to amount of food in the house.

• Teenage boy burns more calories repeatedly opening fridge and pantry doors than can be replaced by the food he hopes to find.

• No matter how many days, or even weeks, a child knows about a school assignment, homework can be done in one hour – as long as it’s the eleventh hour.

• There is no way to evenly divide a pan of brownies among five kids. Especially when you factor in one chocolate-loving mom.

• A 1-year-old + a clean room = a messy room.

• Each pair of so-called helping hands in the kitchen increases meal preparation time by 25 percent. Clean-up time increases by 75 percent. (Amount of helpers now drops precipitously.)

• Number of laundry loads rises as the temperature outside plummets. (Who ever promoted dressing in layers, anyway?)

• Items normally used as pairs will become fractions the minute you need them: shoes, socks, mittens, etc.

• Every new child adds 20 minutes to estimated departure time – forget arrival time!

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Early Tuesday morning the power went out here for about an hour. My computer never regained consciousness. My miracle-working husband took it apart and reconnected it to his computer and recovered most of my files, but none of the children’s. Like my son’s iMovie History Fair project that was ready to be burned to a DVD for his presentation on Thursday. Did I mention I was due to go out of town to a conference with my husband on Wednesday morning?

It was a little crazy around here Tuesday night as my son and husband worked to reconsruct a project in a few hours that took two weeks to build. It helped that my son had scanned all his pictures onto my husband’s laptop and done the original voice recording of his narrative paper on the laptop as well. So he only had to search the web for all the remaining photos.

I had even had my son type his process paper on my account because I was too lazy to log out one night and told him just to hurry and type it. Sometimes my laziness pays off. Rarely, but sometimes.

So that, coupled with accompanying my husband to his conference, is why I’ve ignored my blog this week. I promise to do better next week.

But here’s the really great news! I started work on a new book while I was away. Talk about exciting. And I made a discovery. I am a  romance writer who likes a dash of suspense to keep things interesting. There. I’ve said it. I was trying so hard to write a different genre this time around and I was frozen at the keyboard. I’ve brainstormed lists of story ideas that I couldn’t flesh out for a whole book until now. It came to me one day while hauling laundry downstairs. My favorite story idea needed some romance to get me going. And now I’m going. Yea!