Adventures in Smiling

Getting people to smile on demand is a bit tricky.  Attempts to get my sizeable family bathed, dressed, and looking plasant for a picture is like medical torture.  Just saying the words "family portrait" make me break out in a cold sweat. 

When my unenthusiastic family is finally lined up for this mother-initiated activity, I feel great compassion for our frazzled photographer.

"Pull that finger out of your nose," the photographer says. "Would the teenager on the back row take off the sunglasses? Now on the count of three, everybody look at me and say 'pickles.' One, two, three--pickles!"

Why do we want to see ourselves smiling in pictures? Why not just snap a realistic photo of family members milling around showing their true mood at the moment? Because we all look and feel better when we smile.

While insisting others smile can be a cause of great frustration, getting ourselves to smile will always bring us joy.

I remember a time when I was worried about one of my teenage sons. I prayed long and hard asking God to teach me how to love my son. The impression I received was simple: smile. This answer perplexed me. Still, I gave it a try. I began smiling at my son more often. I made an effort to catch his eye and smile at him during breakfast and supper. I noticed myself appreciating him more and becoming keenly aware of his courage in the face of adolescence. I wasn't sure at the time if he noticed, or if it meant anything to him--teenage boys aren't famous for expressing tender emotions. Some time later I received a letter from this son, who had become an adult:

"Dear Mom, thank you for smiling at me. When I was making my most difficult decisions, I would see your face in my mind, smiling," he wrote. "I knew you loved me, and it made all the difference."

Being Grateful for our Children

When we focus on being grateful for what we have instead of longing for what we don’t have, what we have will always be enough. I remember a time in my life when I had to learn this lesson the hard way.

One evening after we moved into our first new home, my husband seeded our front yard dirt with grass seed. The next morning, he told me it was important to keep the dirt wet or the grass seeds wouldn’t sprout. Then he kissed me on the cheek and left for work. Since it was the middle of July, this assignment was a full-time job. On top of that, I was pregnant and had two baby daughters to care for.

I stood on the front porch, feeling lightheaded and nauseated, squirting the dirt while my one-and two-year-old daughters tumbled down the steps, threw their shoes in the ditch and stuffed rocks up their noses. After days and days of constant watering, our front yard grew the biggest, greenest weeds in the neighborhood.

“This if my life,” I remember mumbling as I sprayed the dirt. “I water weeds. I feed one end of my girls and clean up the other.  Nothing I do really matters.”

A few days later, I had serious complications with my pregnancy and late one night began hemorrhaging. My husband quickly raced me to the emergency room of the nearest hospital. After the doctor arrived and slowed the bleeding, he told us our baby was dead. It broke my heart to leave the hospital that night with empty arms. When we arrived home, I found our two baby daughters asleep on our bed. Now, I’d always loved my daughters, but never quite like I did at that night.

"Thank you God," I thought with new awareness. "They are alive. It is such a miracle to have a child who is alive."

Several days later when I went out to check on our front lawn of weeds, I found something I’ll never forget. If I got down on my hands and knees and took out a magnifying glass, I could see tiny blades of grass so small they looked like green sewing thread. All my watering and weeding was starting to pay off.

I understood I needed faith and patience during the growing season. It occurred to me that all the work involved in caring for a young family was like our newly seeded lawn – a lot of labor and weeds at first. You can’t see the roots setting deep in the rich soil of parental love. Then when the tender seedlings begin to grow, they have the means to sustain them through times of drought and frost.

I also realized if I didn’t stop and notice the miracles of my everyday life, I would miss the joy in the journey. In time, my children, like the lawn, would not require my constant care - the fleeting moments of childhood will have passed.

Being Grateful for Everything

Gratitude is the best non-prescription antidepressant in the world.  I've never met a grateful person who was not happy - or a happy person who was not grateful. 

Gratitude allows us to enjoy life before things get better.  In fact, when we want what we have, we always get what we want. 

Loss is part of the cycle of life; yet without exception day always follows night and spring always follows winter. 

Being grateful is an antidote to hopelessness and the ultimate bad attitude correction.  When we are grateful for everything, we've learned the key to happiness. 

Grateful people have just as many difficult circumstances to deal with as ungrateful peple.  The difference is grateful people choose to count their blessings instead of their problems.

Pain is Universal but Suffering is Optional

I once knew a woman named Blanche who was confined to bed for years.  While I was in bed because of premature labor, we became telephone buddies.  Before bed confinement, Blanche had been in a wheelchair for thirty years because of a mistake during surgery.  After she returned home from the surgery, her husband left her.  Blanche was left to raise her four children alone in her wheelchair.  She had every reason to focus on what she had lost.  In fact, she did for a while.  She tried to sue the doctor.  She was depressed and disheartened.

Then one day she told me that she looked into the eyes of her daughter and realized everything her child had lost.Blanche realized her daughter needed a mother who was happy and a mother who had forgiven the doctor and her father.  She had every reason to be bitter after everything she had lost.  Instead, she decided to focus on what remained. 

In her later years she became bedridden.  Blanche had one window in her bedroom from which she could see a single tree.  During our telephone conversations, she would describe in intimate detail the intricate changes the seasons would bring to her tree.

"It is such a miracle to be able to see," Blanche said.  "I have so much to live for."

Blanche used the same detailed descriptions when she spoke of her grandchildren.  She saw beauty and blessings everywhere she looked because she chose to see with a grateful heart, even when her entire landscape was limited to a tiny bedroom where she was forced to use a bedpan.  Blanche knew the only true power we possess is our ability to see life as it really is.  Life, as it really is, is downright amazing under any conditions.

Blanche also understood the value of creating our own celebrations.  She often called me to wish me a happy Tuesday.  She didn't wait for holidays or birthdays to celebrate or share her love of life.  She understood we have to be in charge of our own joy, and create our own celebrations-for life is short.  She had determined to respond positively to the events and people in her life.  Her motto was, "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24

Pain is part of each life.  Though pain is universal - suffering is optional.  Our character development and personal growth is in our hands.  Though we can't always change our difficult circumstances, we can always change our attitude.  When we can can't change our circumstances, it is time to change our hearts.

TWO FROGS - TWO ATTITUDES . . . what will we choose?

One of my favorite stories told to me as a child involves two frogs hopping through the barn one bight and sunny morning.  Everything was going well.  They were happy and chatting away, but they forgot to watch where they were going.  Suddenly both frogs plopped into the vat of cream.  One frog looked around him, saw the mess he was in, assessed the probable outcome of the situation and immediately despaired.

Big vat of cream. No way out, the first frog thought to himself.  Why do bad things always happen to me?  I've been trying to do what's right.  I don't deserve this.  Where are you God?  You've abandoned me.

Acutally God was right there ready to help, but the first frog didn't bother to ask.  In the end the frog cursed God, drowned and died.

Now the second frog also assessed the situation.
Bit vat of cream. No way out, the second frog thought.  You know I haven't had my cardiovascular workout yet today.  I think I'll try the back stroke.

So the second frog swam around the around the vat of cream humming a tune about his wife and children and how much he loved them.  Low and behold, before he knew it, the cream turned into butter - and the frog hopped out

Both frogs found themselves in the same awful, seemingly hopeless situation.  Each frog chose a response.  One worked better than the other.   

Each of us are going to find ourselves in various vats of trouble during our life time.  Sometimes we just have to hang on or try the back stroke to keep our selves afloat.  If we don't give up and keep thinking grateful and positive thoughts, everything will work out for our best.

Introducing Andrew Jordan Baadsgaard

Welcome to the world Andrew.  I'm so happy to have you in our family.  May the angels watch over you.

Here is a lullaby I wrote just for you . . .

Andrew's Song

Sleep tight my little one
For I love you so
Take your time getting big
Take your time to grow


Just be mine a little while
You're so warm to hold
Stay right here in my arms
Till I'm very old


Yet I know you will grow
And leave my arms some day
But for now just be mine
Take your time to play


The seasons come the seasons go
Then time slips away
Much too soon parting comes
So just be mine today

So for now I hold you close
And press you near my breast
Go to sleep my little one
Close your eyes and rest

California Trip

We enjoyed a great week in California staying with my daughter Aubrey.  It was a new adventure every day!  Even though Kyle had to work at the hospital during the day we had fun going for walks and out to dinner in the evenings.  Thanks for being such great hosts!  I was also delighted to speak to and meet so many great women in the Pasadena Ward. 

The Tar Pits

The Beach

The Reagan Library

The Aquarium at Long Beach

Daffodils Bring the Sunshine of Hope

On April 1st, I woke up, looked out my widow and noticed a half foot of snow covering everything in my yard.  It seemed like an April Fools joke from Mother Nature.  Then I thought again . . . 

You see, daffodils are peeking through the snow at my house.  They are always the first to bloom - even before warm days are here to stay.  They are always the first to break through the soil and give me hope that brighter days are ahead.  They beckon me to do the same - spread sunshine and hope even when dumped on by the challenges of life.

I believe the summation of our life will be our response to our trials.  We don't get to choose what happens to us - we do get to choose our response.

I want to be more like the daffodils at my house - bright beacons of sunshine and hope even before the warm days are here to stay.

I'm a New Grandma Today!

I'm proud to annouce that I'm a new grandma today.  Andrew Jordan Baadsgaard was born today.  There is no greater news, no greater miracle than this . . . a new child is born. 

Andrew . . . my precious grandson . . . I promise you that I will love and cherish you forever.

Thanks Jenny!

Things haven't been going so well for the people who publish my writing lately.  First my publisher goes bankrupt then the newspaper I write for goes out of business.  Many businesses are struggling in this harsh economic climate.  

Writing is a competitive and somewhat lonely craft.  At times you find yourself wondering if all your hard work is worth it . . . if anything you've written has made any difference.

Well  . . . a few weeks ago I received an e-mail that truly lifted my spirts and gave me the courage to continue writing even when things aren't going so well right now.

A beautiful young woman named Jenny Frogley wrote to me and told me how much my book "The LDS Mother's Almanac" had meant to her.  Her words were so honest and sincere that they truly touched my heart.  When I wrote back to thank her, she told me she wanted to send me her CD as a thank you. 

Now she has touched my heart twice. . . first with her kind words and second with her beautiful singing voice.

Thank you Jenny for taking the time to express your appreciation.  You never know what heart you will touch or how much it will mean to someone when you take the time to say . . . "Thank you".

I LOVE RELIEF SOCIETY

I spent the day in Salt Lake City with the Palmyra Stake Relief Society Presidency listening to training and talks by our General Relief Society Presidency - Julie Beck, Barbara Thompson and Silvia Allred. They are wonderful woman with a lot of wisdom to share.

I love Relief Society.  I love all the good woman who choose to serve each other and God.

Lucky Day for John and Alisa

My son John and daughter Alisa came home from school today pretty excited.

Alisa won the Eagle Award.  The award says:  Alisa excels in every subject. She puts her best effort into everything she does. Her behavior is always perfect and she shows a high level of respect to everyone.
Congratulations Alisa!

John won a prize drawing for no tardies.  A CD player.  He is thrilled.  Congratulations John!

Amy's Harp Concert

I went to BYU's Alumni Center on Saturday to hear my daughter Amy play several pieces of music in a Harp Concert.  The whole event was so beautiful it literally transported me to peaceful place of complete relaxation and joy. 

During the concert I closed my eyes and listened with my ears  . . . and my heart.  Hearing the delicate sounds of the harp took me back to the time before Amy was married and living at home.  Her bedrrom was directly below mine and when she practiced the harp late at night,  I would go to sleep listening to the heavenly sounds of her music.

Because my daughter Amy has always reminded me of an angel, watching and listening to her play harp music seems part of who she is even before she was born.  Amy, you are my angel.  Thank you for bringing me so much joy.

Finding the Miracle of Easter

One year I visited the Holy Land with a burning desire to walk the paths where the Savior walked. I was studying the Old and New Testament and felt drawn to Israel in a youthful search for deeper spirituality. During the week I was a volunteer at an archaeological dig in the Negev desert. On weekends, I traveled Israel discovering the sights I’d only read about in the Bible.


Even though it has been decades since that trip, each Easter I recall the specific moment when the whole world became my garden. Let me tell you how it happened. One weekend, I spent the day at the Wailing Wall and in the crowded markets of Old Jerusalem. I was hot, tired, hungry and didn’t look forward to going back to sleep at the youth hostel where I was staying because it was filthy and dark. I longed for a place to think, to gather my disappointed desires and try to make sense of why I came here.

I remember walking through Damascus Gate, crossing the road and hiking uphill. That is when I found it - an oasis in this sea of chaos – the Garden Tomb. I stepped inside and sighed. This quiet secluded walled in Garden was filled with ancient trees that created welcome shade as they swayed in the late afternoon breeze. Multi-colored flowers lined the walkways. I took my time exploring. When I found the tomb, carved from the stone hillside in one section of the garden, I bowed and looked inside. The cold cavern was empty. A sudden electric full body and soul reverence ran down my spine as I contemplated what had happened in this place. I stepped back in wonder. Still visible were the grooves where a large stone was once rolled in front. I never wanted to leave.

Later I climbed a hill in back of the garden and looked toward Golgotha where Jesus is said to have been crucified. That is when I heard the stark noises of heavy traffic, shouts of angry bus drivers and smelled exhaust fumes in the air. The abrupt contrast was disappointing. Even here in this holy place there was no lasting peace. I walked back into the garden and sat down on a bench to think. Before I came to Israel I didn’t know every significant event in the life of Christ had several sites claiming to be the real place where the occurrence took place. I felt disillusioned and disappointed. Why did something so significant have to be so confusing and commercial?

Then I glanced up and noticed the sun slowly slipping into the horizon. Quite unexpectedly a sudden shimmering golden glow cast a heavenly light on everything around me transforming the garden into a dreamlike state. It took my breath away. Then, just as suddenly, the light was gone, the air grew cold and shadows inched across the garden floor. An unexpected gust of wind sent leaves twirling to the ground. The day was ending.

I wrapped my arms around me and took a deep cleansing breath. Then, as if I was awakening from a deep sleep, I perceived a divine pattern . . . light and dark . . . winter and spring . . . morning and night . . . birth and death. I understood that even as this day was ending, another would begin at dawn. Even though the leaves were falling, they would form the earth through which new life would emerge next spring. I would die; yet I would live. That is the moment when I realized it wasn’t the site that was important but the event that took place there.

Jesus Christ is my Savior. The Resurrection is real.

That was the moment when I understood that whether I was in the Garden Tomb in Israel - or in my own back yard – the miracle of Easter was going on everywhere around and inside me every day. The whole earth was indeed holy land - a witness of God’s great love for all of us. Now each spring as we celebrate Easter my thoughts return to the Garden Tomb and the gentle awakening I experienced there. We don’t need to be in the Holy Land to experience the significance of what took place there. The miracles of Easter are manifest all around us every day - and most wonderfully, within ourselves.

Grandma Visits

One of the best parts of being a grandmother is going to interesting places and experiencing the wonder of a child all over again.  The Bean Museum and the Dinosaur Museum at BYU are great places to visit when you have little ones stay over at your house.  Come again soon!