My Son Joseph: Budding Comedic Genius

I realize I've been very wordy lately. Here are the events of the last few months summed up in one-line blurbs:

I've been feeling really tired.
Eating high fat/low carb and keto has helped me feel a lot better.
Someone hurt my feelings and then unjustly hurt my friend's feelings, and that made me really mad.
I still drive a preschool bus, and I get along with my new aide.

Now you're all caught up.

Joseph, my fifteen-year-old son, recently edited a video, and the result made me and Elannah laugh so hard we got stomachaches. Thought I'd share.



Here's another one he did. I honestly can't tell if anyone else would laugh so hard they cried while watching this or if it's just the fact that this particular brand of humor is so illustrative of what makes my family (including my parents and siblings) laugh. You be the judge. Title: "You're trying to sleep as your neighbors play Scatmans World at 3am".

Well, Isn't That Special?

I haven't ugly-cried in years, but I had quite a session of that last night. No one has yet been throat punched, so relax.

Now the rant. I know that no one will find this more interesting than I do, so it's your fault if you read any further. You've been warned. (quirky smiley face emoji, finger guns emoji)

I am a Relief Society president in my congregation. It's a volunteer position (absolutely no pay is involved in any of the callings within the Church), and the bishop of the ward and his counselors are the ones who decide, based on prayer and the Spirit, who will be asked ("called") to become the next Relief Society president and when she will be released from the calling (it's usually a few years). There is no popular vote amongst the congregants, though they can choose to formally sustain me in my calling or not by a raise of hands. I was called--and accepted the call--last October, so it's been about a year that I've been doing this.

I admit that I haven't loved it. That's largely due to my own health issues, which have made everything I do very hard. I have to pick and choose very carefully where I will expend my limited energy. And while I do care intensely about people, I'm not very demonstrative about it overall. I don't have that ability to embrace every person and make them feel like they're thoroughly and utterly loved just by walking into a room. I always struggle with the introvertedness that makes it difficult to open myself up to more than just a very few people, though I can pretend to be extroverted for short periods of time.

I've had many wonderful examples of Relief Society presidents past, and it's hard not to compare myself unfavorably to them. Having been in leadership positions before, I already knew that being in a leadership position within the Church does not in any way grant me superhuman spiritual powers or bring me any closer to perfection. I'm still woefully human and flawed. But the Lord qualifies those whom He calls, so by His grace (and ONLY by His grace), I keep trying to do my best and hope to be guided. God knows me, and He can use me--even as flawed and imperfect as I am--to further his purposes. That's the only thing that keeps me going in what can sometimes be a difficult calling, though the spiritual rewards of serving the women in my ward are often amazing. But the self doubt always remains--an insidious, critical voice in the back of my head.

As a president, I have two counselors and a secretary to assist me. As soon as the bishop extended the call, theirs were the names that popped into my head. I didn't even have to ponder it. We're a great team, my counselors and my secretary and I. I love those ladies. They are kind, helpful, and very supportive. They are wonderful women. And they are also human.

The women in our congregation are also wonderful. Each of them is unique, and each of us have our little quirks and faults as well as our strengths; but when we lift each other up, there isn't anything that we can't accomplish.

So when I got lambasted out of the blue a few weeks ago by a woman I thought was a friend, it really, really hurt. This woman (we'll call her Prunella) had, until that point, thought very highly of me and told me so often. We'd been friends for years. I knew she had quirks, but I accepted those things about her and appreciated her for who she was. One day, however, she began a series of texts to me that ended up in her quitting our friendship. Her reasoning was that I (and others) just don't appreciate her enough. Her particular beef with me was that I responded to her but never initiated contact (sadly, that's mostly true, and it's true because conversations with her took such a long time that I often put it off). Long story short: Prunella didn't feel that I deserved her friendship or her regard any more. As a bonus, she listed all the reasons she thinks I'm terrible at being a Relief Society president and a person in general.

That really hurt. I'm not overly thick-skinned, and it crushes me when someone I trust betrays me and skewers me exactly in all the areas of my insecurities. I mourned for a few days while I scrutinized my actions to see where I had been at fault. While I have many areas that need work, I realized that Prunella had put me on a pedestal of what she expected me to be--and not what I actually am--and when I didn't live up to her expectations, she became incensed with my "betrayal" and lashed out. That realization helped me cope with the situation, and I was able to face her without feeling so much acrimony.

But last night, Prunella went too far.

I taught the lesson in our Relief Society meeting last Sunday. It was based on the talk "Careful versus Casual," by Becky Craven, from the April, 2019, General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We had a good discussion amongst the women in the class, and I had shared some thoughts I'd had about what it means to be careful versus casual in our worship of the Savior.

I noticed that Prunella got up and left the lesson about ten minutes before it ended, and something told me her leaving had to do with me, but I mentally shrugged and continued. I can't be accountable for her feelings about anything.

It turns out that after Prunella left the room (she later told me she left because in sharing an anecdote with the others, I had driven the Spirit from the room because I wasn't teaching purely from the scriptures), she went to speak to the bishop about being able to start going to another ward (she doesn't feel the Spirit when I teach, which, ergo, means that I am unrighteous and am not close to the Spirit in any way), and as she was sitting by the bishop's office, she was reading a General Conference talk in the Ensign magazine. Our class adjourned, and my second counselor (we'll call her Jane) walked down the hallway towards the bishop's office after leaving the Relief Society room. As she walked, Jane absentmindedly clicked her ring against the metal bracelet she was wearing on her other wrist.

The clicking bothered Prunella, who has a deep dislike for repetitive noises (just learned that yesterday!), and she told Jane that the sound was annoying. Jane, who is a jolly, sweet woman, realized what she was doing and clicked the ring deliberately a few more times while she laughed and made a self-deprecating joke, apologized, and then turned to walk away. Prunella, incensed that one of God's Chosen Leaders (sarcasm) would not have the spiritual insight to see that this was entirely the wrong response, said, "You laugh, but it isn't funny." Jane was puzzled by that, but thought nothing more of it until later.

Later in the day, Prunella texted Jane and told her that the clicking and subsequent joke had been annoying and inappropriate. Jane, taken aback, sincerely apologized and told Prunella that she had meant absolutely no offense. Prunella texted back, "Thank you." Jane thought it was done.

A few hours later, Prunella began texting Jane again. She must have been working herself up into quite a self-righteous snit. In a series of texts that extended into the late evening (and to which Jane did not reply), Prunella castigated Jane for not being spiritually led in any way. Jane's little joke about the clicking had been, according to Prunella, utterly irreverent. Would Jane have said something like that in the temple? she asked. Prunella then told Jane that Jane obviously never knelt and prayed at all for spiritual guidance on how to serve the women in our ward if she wasn't able to know, through the Spirit, that making a joke of something so serious as annoying clicking sounds would be entirely the wrong way to approach Prunella, and that her inappropriate joke was an indication of the terrible example Jane had set for her children, all but one of whom do not attend church. Prunella also told Jane that she couldn't ever feel the Spirit when either I or Jane give the lesson and implied that the bishopric had made a mistake in calling us into leadership positions. God, after all, allows His Chosen Leaders the gift of telepathy so that we can read the minds of those around us and know, immediately, how to respond correctly in any given situation. If He doesn't give you that gift, He must not find you worthy. (sarcasm again. Prunella didn't actually say that, but it's the only conclusion her logic could come to).

There was more, but that was the gist. I know that Prunella sounds like she's an evil busybody and that we shouldn't take anything she says too seriously, but she has never said things like this before. If you know someone is a self-righteous prig, you kind of expect that kind of behavior and take whatever she says with a grain of salt; but Prunella was showing a side of herself that she's never let loose before, and that's what has made this all the more hurtful and shocking. Prunella accused Jane of personal insults to herself that Jane has never consciously made, and Prunella managed to hit on every one of Jane's particular insecurities in the process. She was utterly cruel, and what made it even more awful was that she felt absolutely justified in saying all of it because she felt she was on the Lord's errand of setting the wayward straight.

Jane's callings have been working with the children at church for years now. She hasn't been in Relief Society in probably a decade, so for her to go from teaching the children to leading and teaching adult women was a difficult adjustment. She didn't really feel adequate for the task, but she took it on anyway, having faith that the Lord would help her figure it out. This is what makes Prunella's comments so damaging and heinous.

Yesterday morning, before I knew what she'd said to Jane, Prunella texted me for the first time in weeks and asked if we could get together. She said she was ready to express her feelings rationally, and it was important to her that I understand. One of her texts read, "What I want to say is just my experience. It may help and it may not. I'm sound spiritually and emotionally. I feel I'm stronger now, and grounded. I know who I am and where I stand before the Lord. And I don't want to be silent about issues that could help the forward progress of our strength as the Lord's people."

The meanest people are often those who are convinced of their utter righteousness.

I had made a comment about how I found being a RS president difficult (stupid of me) and she responded with a little anecdote about a young Relief Society president she met in 2014 who so loved the calling that she wished all the women could have the opportunity to be president for a couple weeks each just to see how wonderful it was. It was a comment on my lack of spirituality, of course, that I don't find perfect bliss in my calling all the time, every day. Prunella, incidentally, has never had a leadership calling.

I met with Prunella at her house. She offered me some tomatoes from her garden and a glass of water. Since I hadn't had time to eat all day, I was grateful. Then she pulled out her notebook and started telling me her "rational thoughts," all of which were directed at my incompetence. Fine. I can take that. I kept my face neutral while she talked, but I didn't find her any more likable than I have in the past few weeks. But when she started in on Jane, I got mad. I think Prunella could see that. I couldn't keep the neutral expression on my face. I hate confrontation, and I can be very diplomatic and try to see the other side of an argument, but every vile accusation that Prunella made against my friend made me more and more angry. I couldn't take any more. I stood up and told Prunella that I didn't agree with her. And then I left. I could have said more--a lot more--but I don't like to speak out of anger. You say things you end up regretting. Or you throat punch someone.

I left Prunella's house, shaking with rage, and went to talk to Jane. That was when I read the texts that Prunella had sent to Jane, texts that shook Jane's confidence to the very core. Poor Jane had been suffering from a tension headache for three days over the whole affair. "How can I teach anymore?" she exclaimed. "I don't know if I can ever stand in front of a group of women and lead a discussion again. I don't even know if I should have this calling."

For that, I am having a hard time not hating Prunella. For that, I want to throat punch her. For that, less violently, I want to write a strongly worded email. I went home and cried for hours, which I do not do, because I was so upset on Jane's behalf. I couldn't sleep. I'm exhausted and my eyes hurt today.

EDIT: It's been a couple days now, and I feel like I have a better emotional grip on the situation. Writing and talking about it (and I've only talked about it to people, other than Husband, who are not in my ward or my stake so that I'm not causing a rift) has helped me see the ridiculousness of Prunella's accusations. While I have much to work on in my character and my actions, I am also not the anti-Christ Prunella has made me out to be in her mind. And Jane is none of those things that Prunella accused her of, either--not that I had any doubts about that at all. I still don't want anything to do with Prunella, and I'm not sure how I'll handle running into her at church or elsewhere, but I'm not spending any more hours crying about it.

Thanks for listening. I appreciate it.

Meet One of Our Newest U.S. Citizens

L to R: My dad, Husband, Little Gary, my mom, me (with a weird shadow on my teeth), and Sophia

It's official: yesterday morning, Husband was sworn in as a citizen of the United States. It was a nice ceremony, even if it started an hour late. My parents came, as well as Sophia and Little Gary.

Husband's mother and father would have been there, too, but my FIL was actually taking over Husband's fifth grade class for the day. Yes, FIL is now a substitute teacher for the school district. MIL also had to work. She works for Visiting Angels, people who go and assist senior citizens to get to appointments or to do light housework or just to be safe. Though she spent her professional career as a nurse, she doesn't have to do medical stuff. Funny that she's a senior citizen herself.

But it's my parents who were the most anxious about Husband becoming a citizen. In fact, my father, when he was taking on piano students, saved the money he made and donated it to Husband's citizenship fund. Applying for citizenship costs a little over $800 at this time. Husband's brother also donated to that fund. My parents had heard so many horror stories of legal residents still getting deported on stupid technicalities--even without a criminal history--that this became their mission. Husband applied for citizenship over a year ago, and he had the interview a couple weeks ago, but yesterday was the official swearing-in ceremony for about 130 people from all over the world in our session (when we left, we passed a long line of future citizens and their friends and loved ones waiting to be checked in for the next session).

Other news: 
I started eating a ketogenic/high fat, low carb diet and experienced an immediate and profound relief from depression. My mood changed practically overnight, from despondency-and-despair to my normal state of slightly-stressed-but-generally-hopeful. I lost five pounds in one week, as well. The fact that my mood changed so quickly and profoundly is a strong testament to the damage that sugar causes in my body.

Sadly, while my energy levels did rise considerably in the first couple days, they dropped again--but not nearly as far as they had been before. The energy rise and drop has happened in the past when I've switched to a lower carb diet, but energy levels never rose again even when I lost fifty pounds, so I know there's an underlying issue with my energy that has nothing to do with my weight. I've been studying new research on the link that has been found between fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome, and how both conditions are actually misnomers and are probably both part of the same, more general, auto-immune problem, but I won't go into that here.

Remember this scene from The Emperor's New Groove (my favorite Disney movie), when Cuzco is frantically downing Isma's potions in order to turn back into a human, but in the process turns into all kinds of different animals?



At least I'm back to being a llama, even if I was hoping to be completely human. I'll still try to figure out the energy thing, but I'm just really happy that things are moving in a positive direction again. I did have a doctor's appointment, but when I showed up, I was informed that the doctor I was seeing no longer accepts my insurance. I'll reschedule with someone else maybe.

So things are looking positive in the Aurora household. I'll share more about Little Gary and Joseph later, because things are happening there, as well. For now, I'm just very grateful that I can handle life a lot better.

Meet Reuben

My bus attendant, Reuben, is funny.

It was his birthday yesterday. He turned sixty-three years old. He was telling me excitedly about his Everquest game, which he's been playing practically since it was created over twenty years ago. Twenty years! Since he was in his forties! He's really into it and he's really, really good at it (from what I can understand), and I've been trying to put together a picture of the whole thing based on what he tells me, but I mostly hear a string of words and phrases that I know were English but that don't mean a lot to me because they are in technical gamespeak. I ask questions when I can understand enough about what he's saying to figure out what question to ask.

He's a dark elf. Apparently there are all kinds of things you can be: elves, dwarves, ogres, clerics, paladins, warriors, healers, and so forth. There are raids that involve a vast number of people working together, and they fight against computer-generated mobs. Increasing your focus synergy (or something) makes your character tougher. When he said his friend went on a campaign and gained an og, I was trying to picture what sort of creature an og was. Today, I realized he meant aug, as in augmentation. Everything is now clear. /sarc

Not only can he beat the Everquest creators themselves at their own game (and has several times), he makes YouTube videos teaching others how to do what he can do.

The guy is 63. He's got grandkids and he's way more tech savvy than I am--which, admittedly, isn't hard to do, but I'm still impressed.

I yawned today and he shouted, "Quit yawning, you old woman! You're making me tired!"

He was a star athlete in high school: football and wrestling. He tells everyone he meets that his wrestling name was Big Fat Grandpa and loves it when they believe him. When he lets the kids use his phone and his picture pops up on the wallpaper, he says, "Isn't that the handsomest man you've ever seen?" followed by a big, partially toothless guffaw.

He tells me stories about his wife, who drives one of the other buses in the district, and he always paints her as a total saint for putting up with him for forty or so years. It's obvious he adores her.

Two days ago, he called in sick between the first and second bus runs and I was surprised, as he seemed fine on the first run. Turns out he'd gone to get a burrito from a local Mexican restaurant and the meat must have been off. Even as he was eating it, he felt a disturbing rumbling deep in his gut and had to make a mad dash for the bathroom. While using the toilet, he had to grab the trash can and vomit out the other end. Needless to say, he was indisposed with food poisoning for the rest of the day. I heard all about it yesterday in very colorful and inventive terms. Let's just say he's not shy.

The kids love him after they get used to him. He's always joking around with them, and he's also very kind and caring with them. He treats the preschoolers like his grandkids.

He's a hoot. He's so, so different from my last bus aide, Kris, but he's a hoot.

My Thai-Inspired Mixed Soda Recipe

There's a local diner that offers a Dirty Dr. Pepper, which is Dr. Pepper soda and a shot of coconut syrup. That's fine and all, but it's not my favorite. What I really liked was their Dreamy Dr. Pepper, which is Dr. Pepper with coconut syrup and a dash of heavy whipping cream.

But my favorite soda is not Dr. Pepper. My favorite soda is Diet Ginger and Lime Coke. I decided that combining coconut syrup and cream in a ginger and lime flavored soda would create an awesome Thai-inspired soda flavor.

So, yesterday, I used a can of coconut milk to make some simple coconut syrup (see the very easy and delicious recipe here and use it on pancakes as well!) because I don't like the synthetic flavor of commercial syrups (I know, I know: the irony is that I still like the very synthetic Diet Coke). Then I put a teaspoon of that into twenty-four ounces of the soda (two cans worth), stirred it in, and then added a teaspoon of heavy whipping cream.

If Thailand made a cold, carbonated soup, this would be it. Or, rather (because ew!), this is a liquid version of my favorite ginger- and coconut-flavored hard candy from the Asian market. "Icy cold carbonated soup" doesn't make good advertising copy.

Anyway, if you're game, here's the recipe in recipe format. You could add the syrup to any soda or seltzer water and leave the cream out if you want. I'm not going to be the soda police around here.

Spry Superfly Thai Soda

24 oz Ginger Lime Diet Coke
1 tsp coconut syrup
1 tsp heavy whipping cream

Stir. Add ice if needed. Sip and enjoy.

I'm Too Tired to Create a Title for This Post

It's been a rough week, to be honest. Nothing really terrible or anything, just rough.

Monday was the first day of preschool. That was an unmitigated disaster, but nothing that couldn't and didn't get fixed. The mechanics got my bus going eventually (it wouldn't start, so I took a spare bus for the first run of the day), and we shifted some of the kids from my bus to the other bus so that I wasn't going to always show up to the school twenty-five minutes late because I had too many kids on my route. Once we sorted out those issues, the rest of the preschool week went just fine.

The problem is that this fatigue from which I suffer (I don't like to say "my fatigue" because qualifying it as mine and not as an unnatural state of being somehow seems to me like I'm owning it and accepting it as a normal thing) has taken a sharp turn for the worse. Where I was tired and worn out before, I can now barely do anything even somewhat energetic without suffering physically debilitating consequences.

The problem with fatigue isn't just that it makes physical effort so much more difficult. The other problem is that it messes with your head so much. It decreases my cognitive abilities--I can literally feel myself getting more and more dumb! I've also noticed that I'm somewhat unconsciously prioritizing my expenditures of physical energy, so plenty of things aren't getting done because I have placed them lower on the hierarchy when it comes time to spend my finite and limited energy.

I'm going to see a doctor. I have seen doctors before, back when the fatigue wasn't nearly this bad, and all of them have told me the tests are all normal and that I'm probably depressed and that I should take anti-depressants. That's a load of crock, and it's why I'm so reluctant to see a doctor. If I'm depressed, it's because of the underlying physical issue, and when that is fixed, this weary brain of mine will also find some relief; but I don't think taking an anti-depressant is going to do anything to solve anything at this point.

Based on my extensive research, I believe I have adrenal fatigue--and that it's just amped up into serious adrenal fatigue. That's not a generally medically recognized condition at this point, but there are doctors who are beginning to recognize it. And there are things I can do--and have done! I won't give up yet.

Thanks for letting me vent. I'm so very, very tired, but I'm not suicidal or anything. I'm fighting that loud, critical voice in my head that keeps telling me how thoroughly I'm failing at everything. I'm frustrated that I'm not smart enough to figure this out and that, even if I do, I'm too tired to make all the effort it takes to get better. I'm possibly looking for another, less strenuous job, even though I love those preschool kids and get along fine with my new bus attendant, Reuben. But I have a wonderful family who support and love me, and I am constantly blessed by the Lord, and if I can see and appreciate those things, I can still find hope.