The yucky pukey feeling was all over with yesterday, but the coughing!! I can’t stop coughing.

I also can’t turn my brain off. I am restless to make art and found some new inspiring blogs (here and here). I think over this Christmas break I will be doing some drawing (and spinning of course) and overhaul my site.

I’ve also been working on my talk for our Home, Family and Personal Enrichment meeting tonight. As a Presidency it is our Christmas gift to the sisters–a night titled “Fill the Well Within.” There will be musical numbers and talk about how in order to truly serve and give, we must first be filled. Not in the pop culture sense that we should go get a pedicure or something, but that our spiritual wells can run dry if we don’t do what’s neccessary to replenish them.

I based my talk on 2 Nephi 2:25-27

25 Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

26 And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon, save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last day, according to the commandments which God hath given.

27 Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and call things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.

We are the creators of our lives. We can choose either to act, or to be acted upon. By choosing to act, we fill our wells and create joy in our lives.

Here’s a list of choices we can make to fill our wells:

and most importantly

If everyday we could think about what we are doing and feeling and thinking and ask, “Am I acting, or being acted upon?” If we could focus on being the creators of joy–which is the full measure of our creation–then our wells would be full. We could gain a more proper perspective of what really matters and simply love.

No one has rhuematic fever. We have actually all stopped puking.

Last night I went to bed at 6:00 because I was completely delusional and freezing cold, and too hot. It was a good thing I did, so that I could get some rest in between Jonah getting up. It seems like he got up 8 times. That could be an exaggeration—but the screaming!! The irrational whining!! Will he ever stop being two?!

One time he got up because he wanted wrapped up. I went into his room with him and attempted to put him in bed so I could wrap him up. “NOOOOO! It’s not the right way. I need the fish part here (pointing to his forehead) so I can be all snuggled up and hold it.” I tried again. “You have to wrap me up OUT of bed!!”

“Jonah, use a quiet voice. Brenna is sleeping.”

“No. I am waking up. I need a waking up voice.”

“Okay, let’s wrap you up. Climb up in bed.”

“No. I can’t do the truth, it’s too tricky.”

This went on for at least half an hour. Every time he got put in bed he screamed irrational things about how the truth is too tricky. Exasserbated, we finally resorted to moving Brenna to the spare bedroom and shut the door on Jonah. I’m suprised the neighbors didn’t call to complain that we had woken them up because Jonah just laid by the door, kicking and wailing and screaming that whatever way we wrapped him up was not the truth.

“That’s not the truth!!!! The truth is too tricky!!!!”

Poor Barry didn’t get much sleep, but Logan slept like a log.

I survived funeral number two. That’s two funerals in two weeks. I know how to do it now.

Also, Brenna has a rash from head to foot. It’s on her face and chest and back and sides and arms and legs and ankles… Did I mention her ears? And she complains that her tongue itches.

Jonah is throwing up.

The nursery leader in our ward called the other day to let me know that she had been diagnosed with strep throat, but she didn’t have normal strep throat symptoms. She felt achey and nauseous with a little bit of a soar throat. One of her kids got a rash.

I looked up strep infections and rashes on the internet today. Do you know what a strep infection with a rash is called? SCARLET FEVER. Yeah, isn’t that what you read about babies dying of in pioneer stories? Not a good thought for this young mother who just completed planning funerals and dressing dead bodies!

So, we will try to get everyone tested and on antibiotics so that we can drive across the country without spreading germs far and wide. Thank the Lord for modern medicine!!

Today I got a phone call from my friend Tara, who is also my 1st counselor in the Relief Society Presidency. “Can you come get Katie? I am in the church parking lot. Judy Dailey got in a car accident. She hit a power pole. I’m trying to look in her car to see if she is all right…Oh, they’re telling me to move away because the line might fall down. The paramedics just got here. Oh, it is Judy, they just turned her over. I’m not sure what I need to do. Will you come get Katie so that maybe I can follow them to the hospital?”

I packed up my kids and went to the church–as far as I could. The road was blocked off. I parked by the police car, turned on my hazard lights, told my kids to stay in their seats, locked the doors, and ran to get Katie and her carseat. When I got to Tara she said, “She’s dead. They think that she died before she crashed. Her injuries weren’t enough to have killed her. They said they didn’t know if she had a heart condition and I told them she did. She had open heart surgery last year. She pulled out in front of me and I was following her and thinking, ‘That person is either drunk or asleep’ because she kept swerving. Then she swerved off the right side of the road and hit a garbage can and a mail box, then careened across traffic to the other side. It looked like she was going to hit a school bus and at the last second swerved a little more and hit the power pole. I realized ‘That’s Judy’ because who else drives a blue Toyota van that’s that old and that beat up?” She went on as we hurried Katie and her car seat to my car. Oh, I was dumb to leave my kids!! Jonah was in the front seat and the doors were unlocked. I am so thankful he stayed in the car. I just didn’t know what else to do.

So do we call the family? What do we do? The police told Tara to let the coroner’s office notify the family. I went home and called the bishop to let him know what happened. The we just waited. I was at a loss as to what to do. Another death? And so sudden. Another funeral to plan. Another dead body to dress…then Jonah dropped the snow globe. Glass and water and glitter and shepheds and sheep and angels all over the floor.

I wanted Barry to come home. I wanted help with these screaming kids and my swimming brain. I called. His phone was up in our bedroom. I tried to e-mail him. Couldn’t get his address right. I wanted to scream I was so frusterated. I tried to play with my kids in between phone calls.

It is hard to want to help, but feel powerless to do anything. All there is to do is wait.

So that was my day. Barry finally got home. I talked to Judy’s son. I met with the Bishop. I will go to the funeral home tomorrow or Thursday.

Jonah is very proud of his song that he made up all by himself. He’s been singing it all day. (If you can’t figure it out–it’s to the tune of “Farmer in the Dell.”)

I love the dell,
I love the dell,
I love the dell, the dell,
the dell, the dell, the dell.

Without any farmerinit (“farmer in it” is all one word)
Without any farmerinit
I love the dell, the dell,
Without any farmerinit