on graduating

Well, it's happened. A ton of my friends from my freshman year at BYU are posting statuses such as "I am a college graduate!" on Facebook. Four years ago I thought that would be me right now. And instead, I'm looking at about three more years of school before I graduate, and not from BYU. But you know, I'm glad it worked out this way. My plan wasn't nearly as good as the one God had in mind. No way would I trade this for a degree:

Christ took upon himself our infirmities.

Alma 7:12
" . . . and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities."

I was just reading this verse, and some things occurred to me that I hadn't thought about in quite the same way before. I knew that Christ not only suffered for our sins, but also that he took upon himself our infirmities. He experienced our pains and struggles himself so that he would know how to help us. Christ understands my trials and pains perfectly. It occurred to me that another way to think of the phrase, "he will take upon him their infirmities" is that he took upon himself the responsibility of our infirmities, the responsibility of helping us through our sorrows. My understanding is that he literally suffered the pains of all men in the garden of Gethsemane. So at that time he was taking our infirmities upon him by suffering the same things we would suffer. But he is continuing to take upon him our infirmities by succoring his people, which he can do perfectly if we will let him because he knows exactly how we feel and understands what we are suffering. I think that must have taken an incredible amount of charity and love, because the small things that I have suffered in my own life were still quite difficult to handle sometimes, and I know that many people have endured trials that are much worse than mine, and Christ was willing to experience those things and make himself available to help all of us.

Another thing I was thinking about was this part of the verse: "And he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy." Not only did Christ suffer our pains so that he would know how to help us (and that is part of the mercy), but I thought that maybe that experience was also meant to prepare him for the time when he will judge every one of us. When we stand before him at that time, we can be sure that he will be fair and also merciful, because he will know the desires of our hearts and understand the things we suffered in our lifetimes. Suffering for our sins and infirmities gave him the understanding he would need to be our judge. I don't understand very well how the atonement could happen, but I do know that it works, and I am very grateful that there is a way provided through Jesus Christ so that when I fall short, I can be forgiven and then work to improve myself.

Day of Service

A couple of weeks ago, our ward had a talent show, and I decided to play a piano piece by Rachmaninoff that I played in my senior recital four years ago. The next Sunday, a brother from our ward asked if I would like to play that piece and maybe one or two more at an assisted living center on the Day of Service, an event sponsored by the wards in our area in which several service projects were arranged in the community. I told him I would love to do that. Yesterday was the Day of Service. I went to the assisted living center thinking that the residents might appreciate having someone to visit, but wouldn't care too much about me playing the piano. When I walked in, the people I saw were mostly sitting in chairs with little expression on their faces. I guess you can't know for sure how much they're taking in, but I didn't feel like I was doing anything special when for all I knew these people weren't even aware that someone was playing music. But after I had played a couple of songs, the brother who had asked me to come told me that there was a lady who wanted to meet the person playing the piano. There was a sweet, bright-eyed woman with white hair sitting in an armchair, and she said she used to play the piano ("Beethoven, Mozart, Bach . . . I played all of those") and asked me to play some more songs. So I played a couple more, and then I went and talked to her again. She told me about how she would love to still play the piano, but she can't get onto the piano bench because it's not very stable and she has to use a walker. She also said that she had just been saying that she wished people would come sometimes and play classical music, and then I started playing, and she was so excited to hear someone playing classical music. I'm grateful that I was able to gladden someone's heart with my talents. Sometimes I have wondered if it was even worth it to learn to play the piano when I can't really practice regularly right now and the only benefit seems to be that occasionally I have some fun playing songs, but then I have experiences like this and I'm reminded that it was worthwhile, even if it was all just to bring a little sunshine to a little white-haired lady at a nursing home.

about bread

I grind my own wheat (with the ward wheat grinder--what a blessing!) and make whole wheat bread for our family. Recently I've had a couple of complaints about whole wheat bread:

The main complaint is that it seems to frequently have a sour-ish fermented taste. I've tried to describe it to Ryan several times and he says the bread tastes good. The first time I noticed it I thought it was because I had added gluten and potato flakes, which many people say makes whole wheat bread better. But after making whole wheat bread many more times, both with the dough enhancers and without them, I've found that they mainly affect the texture, not the taste, and whether I add them or not the strange taste still persists (which is a relief since I have a #10 can of both gluten and potato flakes and I would hate for them to go to waste). I've thought that maybe I should chalk it up to having weird hormone levels from breastfeeding, since I had some food aversions to bread in the first trimester of my pregnancy--maybe some similar hormones are still lingering? Anyway, I think the solution to the problem seems to be not letting the bread rise too long the first time it rises. That seems to make sense since the yeast could be growing too much and causing that fermented taste. But if anyone else has experienced this problem and figured out what it was, I'd love to hear your thoughts (or at least hear that I'm not going crazy).

The other problem was the edges being a little burned, especially the top. I think I've figured this one out. Most bread recipes say to bake at 350 for about 30 minutes. Even with 30 minutes the bread seems to be burned on top, but I like to bake the bread for 32 minutes because the inside of the loaf isn't done enough at 30 minutes, and of course that worsens the problem of the burned top. One solution that I read about is to cover the loaf with some aluminum foil after the top of the loaf has cooked enough. I have tried it a couple of times, and it does work, but of course that means you have to check on your bread, which I don't usually remember to do (nor do I want to). Then I remembered from my yeast breads project in 4-H that if the outside of your bread is cooked but the inside is still doughy, then next time you can decrease the temperature and cook for a little longer. So now I cook my bread at 325 for 32 minutes, and it's just about right. For some reason it took me a while to feel comfortable with deviating from the 350 degrees that most recipes call for, which is surprising because I'm generally pretty comfortable with modifying recipes. At some point in a few years we will probably move to a place with a different climate and/or altitude, and I'm interested to see if that affects the cooking time and temperature. Maybe all these whole wheat bread recipes are coming from Utah.

funny story

We've been having problems with our Sunday paper for about two months. I only get the paper for the coupon inserts, and I subscribe to two papers so I can get twice as many inserts. I know there's at least one other apartment that gets the Sunday paper, because when the correct number of papers were being delivered there were two more papers left after I picked up ours. But then for several weeks the papers hadn't been delivered in the morning, so I had to request a redelivery. I suspected that someone was taking our papers, because you'd think that after several weeks of redelivery requests someone would tell the carrier not to forget our building. But there have been a couple of mornings when I woke up early (accidentally, of course), about 5:30, and I thought I would see if I could catch the newspapers before the supposed thief, and there still were no papers! I just can't imagine anyone consistently getting up that early to steal newspapers. Plus, for the last few weeks there has been just one paper left at our building (which means I have to go down and get it and then request a redelivery of the other one). So now I'm wondering if the carrier isn't realizing he/she is supposed to deliver several papers, not just one. My blood isn't boiling or anything yet--I mean, I'm getting the papers I'm paying for (and I'm remembering President Monson's story about the little paper boy). But it would be nice to be able to rely on getting my newspapers on Sunday without having to do this whole process of requesting redeliveries and watching for the paper, and I feel bad that someone has to come back every single Sunday to deliver one newspaper. I've talked to customer service people several times, so I'm just wondering if this problem is ever going to be resolved.

Anyway, on to the funny story (I felt like I needed to give the background information). So early this morning, Ryan and I were having a picnic in the dark, outside in front of our building. Then I looked towards the end of the building and realized that the newspapers had already been delivered (all of them), and Ryan suggested that I just go grab ours before they got stolen. So I went over to get the papers, and as I arrived another person also approached the newspapers and got all of them except for one. I told him that one of those papers he had picked up was mine, and he started yelling at me in Spanish (I do speak some Spanish, but I was so flustered and he was talking so quickly that I couldn't understand him). Well, in the end I got the other paper and he stalked off, continuing to mutter in Spanish. As I was walking back towards Ryan, a big black dog came up behind me and started biting my hands. I managed to get away from it, but then I passed another black dog that also started biting my hands. I called out to Ryan to come give me a little help.

Then I dreamed that I woke up (yes, this is all a dream). It's always slightly disconcerting when I keep dreaming that I woke up because when I actually do wake up I can't tell if I'm really awake, and all of the dreams seem realistic enough to make me think I really woke up each time. Anyway, this time when I dreamed that I woke up, I was still in my bed, and it was dark, but I thought it was probably about 5:30, so I got up and looked outside, wondering if the newspapers had actually all been delivered this time. And there were several newspapers down there! Ryan sat up in bed and said I might as well go down and get our newspapers. But then I looked again and there was a big group of college-age kids walking on the sidewalk with a big box, and they were going to steal all the newspapers. So I opened the window and called out to them, "Hey! Those newspapers aren't yours!" A girl looked up, and I recognized her from the weightlifting class I took in 2008. "I'm sorry, Marcelaine!" she called back. "But I promise it's for a very good cause." Ryan and I went outside and I chased after the thieves and got our two newspapers, then proceeded to lecture the girl. "I don't care if you're doing this for a good cause. Even if you're doing it for a good cause, you're still stealing other people's property, and that's not right." She was really mad at me (she always struck me as one of those girls who loves her attitude problem), and they still went away with all the papers. But at least now I knew who was taking everyone's newspapers and I could tell the newspaper company or something . . .

Except then I woke up. For real. And it was about 5:40. So I thought I might as well look outside and see if any newspapers had arrived. There was just one. I was definitely awake for real this time. And I've requested my redelivery. Again.

mid-book review: The Goose Girl

I've been checking out books on CD from the library lately to listen to in the car because I'm sick of listening to the annoying girl on the classical music station and the annoying commercials and even worse songs that play on most other radio stations. When I saw The Goose Girl in the library, I thought that would be a good option because I've heard a lot of different people rave about how much they loved it. It sounds like the plot gets a little more interesting later on in the book, but I'm afraid I'm not loving it. In fact, I'm not sure I even like it. Oooooh, Ani (who everyone always addresses as "Crown Princess") likes to talk to animals. That's weird. Let's keep it a secret because we don't want people to think she's cursed. Don't let her play with the swans or have a puppy--we don't want to encourage that sort of thing. Huh? What's up with that? And Ani is unrealistically awkward. Awkward people aren't like that when they're awkward (I would know . . . ). Nobody acts like that. None of the characters have any depth, the plot is weird, the conversations are fake. The reviewers online are raving about what a wonderful story this is and how much they enjoy the descriptive style, but I feel like even the descriptions are irrelevant sometimes.

And why is the queen the ruler after the king dies? Doesn't the crown go to the heir apparent? And where did the queen get the authority to decide that Ani doesn't get to be the crown princess anymore? (The way Ryan put it is that Americans shouldn't write about royalty because they just don't get it.)

Pant, pant. I do plan to stick with this book a little longer. I'm hoping it will get better. But so far it just isn't really fitting together very well. Hopefully in a couple of weeks I will have better things to say about it.

Lemon Chicken Pasta Toss

2 cups dried multigrain penne (6 ounces)
12 ounces skinless, boneless chicken breast halves, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/3 cup finely chopped shallot (3)
2 cloves garlic, minced
3/4 cup chicken broth
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
3 tablespoons capers, drained
3 tablespoons snipped fresh Italian parsley
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
(I didn't use any shallots, capers, parsley, or Parmesan cheese)

1. Cook pasta according to package directions; drain. Return pasta to hot saucepan; cover and keep warm.
2. Meanwhile, in a bowl toss together chicken and flour until chicken is lightly coated. In a large skillet cook and stir chicken in 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium-high heat for 6 to 8 minutes or until chicken is no longer pink. Remove chicken from pan; set aside.
3. Reduce heat to medium. Add remaining oil to skillet. Add shallot and garlic; cook and stir about 1 minute or until tender. Carefully stir in broth, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Cook, uncovered, for 2 to 3 minutes or until reduced to about 2/3 cup. Stir in chicken, capers, and parsley; heat through.
4. Toss pasta with chicken mixture. If desired, serve with Parmesan cheese.

Lemon Shrimp Pasta Toss: Prepare as above, except substitute 12 ounces peeled, deveined shrimp for the chicken. Cook and stir in skillet for 2 to 3 minutes or until shrimp are opaque.

I loved this because it was a light pasta dish. It seems like all of the things I make with pasta either have tomatoes or a white sauce, and this one just has a little broth and lemon juice. It was nice to have a little change. I also added fresh green beans the second time I made this, and that was pretty good.

at the park

This evening after Ryan got home from work we went to a nearby park. We went a few months ago for a little while, but it was so cold that we pretty much looked and went home. We wanted to come back sometime so we could explore the paths. So Kevin was packed in the strollor and we braved the paths. It was a little rocky and there were a lot of tree roots in the way, so it wasn't a very nice ride for Kevin, but fortunately for him we didn't go too far. Then we played with K at the park for a while. He went down the slide for the first time and didn't appreciate it much, even when we tried going down with him in our laps. He also tried out one of the baby swings, which he also didn't appreciate at first because his head bobbed too much, but soon he figured out how to lean forward against the front and it wasn't so bad, especially when Dad stood in front of him and said Boo to him every time he swung forward. And then of course we played in the sand a bit. K has experienced sand a few times before at the playground by our apartment building, but he still thinks it's fun to taste it, even though he makes a face every time it gets in his mouth.

almost crawling

I think Kevin could crawl if the idea occurred to him. When he is about to use something to stand up, like a chair or table or my legs, he will do a few real crawl "steps" to get himself close enough (as opposed to army crawling, which he does amazingly well right now). So it seems like he's got the muscles to do it. He's just so fast at army crawling that it hasn't occurred to him that he could crawl and be even faster. Not that there's any rush--because I'm pretty sure he will be whizzing across the room as soon as he's got it down, and then no more rest for me.

It has become impossible to keep Kevin in one place during church. Yesterday during Sunday School and Relief Society I had to just let him go. Several people laughed and commented about how fast he is. And he's still just army crawling! What will it be like when he's crawling for real, or when he's walking?

Kevin and food

I've been noticing some interesting changes in Kevin's eating habits lately. He has really increased the solid foods in the last couple of months and eats about half table food, half breastmilk, leaning towards more table food. I was really struggling with breastfeeding for a while there. Before Kevin was born I always thought I would be the mom who loved nursing her children and that it would be an amazing experience. After all, my mom breastfed six kids and I had the right attitude, so of course I was going to love it and have no problems, right? Well, what I didn't expect was that I would have such an active, curious, wiggly baby. He just has to move and grab things, even when he's eating. So feedings were becoming stressful and not so fun for me because the entire time he was shoving his heel into my arm as hard as he could, or yanking my hair, or scratching whatever skin was in his reach. And then he got teeth and decided biting was fun, and I disagreed. To solve the biting problem, I decided that if he bit me I would put him down and ignore him even if he cried so that he would realize that if he was going to bite he wouldn't get to keep nursing. The first couple of times he just crawled away and played, but the third time he wasn't done and he was really sad. I let him cry for several minutes and didn't give him any attention, and then after a while I picked him up, explained that he couldn't bite me because it hurts, and gave him some extra attention and nursed him again. I was dreading having to do it a few more times before he started to get the idea, but the problem has pretty much disappeared since then. I guess he learned his lesson. He continued to increase the amount of solid foods he ate, especially foods he can pick up and eat himself. He loves that. And then within the last week he has started to come to me begging to nurse at times when he normally doesn't eat, especially when he's getting close to bedtime. I think that means that he's starting to value the snuggle aspect of it more. A result of this is that he is much calmer during all of his feedings, and it has become more enjoyable for me again.

what to do with a whole chicken

I've learned a lot about cooking since Ryan and I got married. I'm amazed at the things that intimidated me when we were first married. I was a nervous wreck the first time I bought a can of kidney beans and a can of tomatoes so that I could make this taco bean soup recipe that I thought sounded good. I had never bought those before, so for some reason it was scary. (Now I stock up every time tomatoes go on sale, and I freeze big batches of beans [cooked from scratch] in the freezer so I can make quick bean dishes a couple of times a week--I've come a long way.) I'm a lot more confident about my cooking skills now, and I'm not scared to try most recipes anymore.

Anyway, one thing that I have learned to do is to cook large quantities of meat in the crockpot (like roasts or whole chickens) and then use it for several meals. For some reason that used to be soooo intimidating to me, but it's actually pretty easy after you've done it a couple of times. My chickens aren't works of art like some people's are, but they still taste good and the meat is nice and tender.

1. Thaw out the meat if it is frozen (in the fridge--it takes a day or two).
2. Take it out of the packaging, rinse it, and put it in the crockpot. You can add a little water, but you will get a lot of liquid just from the meat cooking.
   
3. Add spices if you want. Bouillon, garlic, onions, salt, pepper, and special seasonings like Prime Rib Rub all work well. You can also add vegetables like carrots and potatoes, which adds flavor and also makes this a really nice meal if you throw in salad and bread (meaning as part of the meal--I wouldn't advise putting lettuce in the crockpot . . . (-; ).
   
4. Cover the crockpot and let the meat cook for several hours. I use a thermometer to check if it is done.

In other words, put a hunk of meat in the crockpot and cook it for a while. How hard is that? I don't know why it was so scary. I think I thought that since whole chickens and roasts were nice meals, they must involve some complicated, fancy stuff.

After the meat is cooked, you can use the broth and meat for lots of things. I let it all cool down a bit, and then I take all the meat off of the bones and put it in a container in the fridge. Over the next few days I can use that meat for soup, sandwiches, enchiladas, chimichangas, stir-fries, etc. Then I drain the liquid (this is the stock or broth). A colander works fine, but if you don't want the floating fat and such you can use an old pair of nylons to make the broth nice and clear (I keep a pair in the kitchen and just cut off and throw away the part that got dirty). If you put the broth in the fridge overnight, it will become like chicken/beef jello and the fat will float to the top, so you can easily scrape the fat off with a spoon. Then you can use the broth for soup or stir-fry or any recipe that calls for broth.

A word about bouillon and broth: they are the same thing!
1 bouillon cube + 1 cup water=1 tsp. bouillon + 1 cup water =1 cup stock or broth
When I realized that, my world of cooking grew by leaps and bounds. Maybe everyone else knew that, but somehow I missed that helpful bit of information. I think I figured it out by reading the family cookbook. Now I can make really delicious soups and lots of other things. Chicken soup is just several cups of chicken broth with vegetables, chicken, barley, noodles, spices, or whatever you want to add. For some reason that used to be such a mystery to me.

Anyway, I hope I'm not the only one who was intimidated by cooking whole chickens and roasts. I still haven't tried making a roast or a whole chicken in the oven, though--I'm afraid it would be dry or burned, so I haven't dared to do it.

100 things to do

In honor of this being my 100th post, I thought I'd write down all 100 things that I wanted to do this week and didn't, or wished I could do but couldn't.

But then I realized that this is actually only my 97th post (I have a few forgotten drafts from a long time ago that I never got around to publishing). Plus, it's not healthy or productive to put that much energy into thinking about what you haven't accomplished. So I decided not to do it.

I've realized in the last week or so that I've developed an interesting bad habit. I think I've been doing it for a couple of months. Here's the bad habit: At the end of the day--every day--I start thinking about all the things I wanted to accomplish that day and didn't accomplish, and I start feeling really depressed because I didn't get anything done. But one day this week I started doing that, and then I stopped and realized that I actually had done quite a bit, which led me to realize that I do the same thing every day even though most days I do get quite a few things done. The whole time I was thinking it was just that I felt guilty because I'm so lazy, and that wasn't true. I guess Satan's getting smarter, because it didn't occur to me that he'd get me down with a trick like that. So now I'm working on breaking the habit. It's kind of hard. I know there are a few things I could change to manage my time better, but I still need to give myself credit for doing a pretty good job of fulfilling all my responsibilities.

When I explained this to Ryan, he said, "Mm-hmm!" Meaning, "That's what I've been trying to tell you all along."

play date

On Thursday Kevin's friend Joseph came to play for about an hour while Joseph's mom did some other things. It was fun to watch them play. Kevin was so delighted to have another little person around. We should have friends over more often.

They were doing something really cute, so I whipped out the camera, and then of course one of them said, "Look, she's got the camera!" and the other replied, "Get her!" I barely got away alive, and I can't even remember what the cute thing was that they were doing. This is all I was able to capture, just before the attack.


Kevin was interested in pretty much everything Joseph was doing. I'm afraid Joseph didn't appreciate having someone in such close proximity.

my little helper

Kevin has learned to pull himself up to a standing position, and he is using his skills to help me out.

He washes the dishes (spit-shine?) . . .



and takes the trash out (of the trash can, that is).



He would also love to clean the toilet, but I won't let him.