moosh in indy.

I’ve found that some of you find it interesting that as a part of the LDS (Mormon) church (OOH! Religion! HOT TOPIC!) we attend church every week.

For three hours.

Yep. Every single week.

Three hours. 180 minutes.

Our first meeting is Sacrament, were we partake of bread and water in remembrance of the Savior. In this meeting we are all together. We sing a little, listen to talks and get any other important news about our congregation. For the second and third meeting, kids 18 months- 3 years go to a nursery class and children 3-12 attend a primary class. The second meeting for adults 18+ is Sunday school where we learn about and read scriptures. The third meeting is either Relief Society (for women) Priesthood (for men). Boys and girls 12+ each have their own Sunday school classes divided by age and their own meeting of either Young Women or Young Men. Each class is led by members “called” to the position for a small amount of time. (For example, I teach the 12 and 13 year old Sunday School Class, Cody teaches once a month in his Priesthood class.)

That’s roughly 156 hours of church a year (give or take some due to various and assorted church wide conferences.)

Considering there’s 8,760 hours in a year, that’s a very tiny portion of it spent at church.

We also dress up. Sunday best. Every week. This is also a hot topic of discussion.

The way I look at it, if I were Deity and I had done a whole lot to bless the lives of the people who have faith in me, died for them even, I’d appreciate it if for the three hours a week they came together to learn about me and sing songs about me, it would be nice if they’d get out of their jammies and comb their hair.

Right?

We also don’t (well avoid, sometimes it’s inevitable) shop or eat out on Sundays, we stay close with our families resting and relaxing, because dude? That’s totally what the God I believe in did on the seventh day. This makes Utah either the most awesome state in the Union or the lamest state in the Union come Sunday, depending on what you want to do.

As usual, I’m not asking you to agree with what I choose to do with my Sundays. If religion to you is weeding your tomato plants on a Sunday then get on down with your bad ol’ weeding self. I’m just putting a little more reliable information out into the internets about us (not so crazy) Mormons. So keep the meanness to yourself and take it out on those dandelions overtaking your lawn over there.

I don’t drink. Used to. Don’t anymore. In my choice of religion we are commanded to follow the Word of Wisdom. The word of wisdom basically breaks down to “eat stuff that’s good for you, avoid the stuff that’s bad for you.” Included in the list of things which are good for you are fruits, vegetables, whole grains and meat (in moderation). Duh. The things that fall under the “bad” category are alcohol, tobacco, coffee and tea.

(By the way, to any new readers, HI! I’m a Mormon. If you hate Mormons, kindly keep your mean emails and comments to yourself and just click away, hit unsubscribe and forget that 12,000,000 of us share the same planet as you. kthxbai)

So there you go. I don’t drink. That isn’t to say that I never drank, because WHOO did I drink. And you know what? It really isn’t for me. With my depression and inability to control myself as a hot drunken mess it’s really just better that I don’t. So even if it weren’t for the religious direction not to drink, I still wouldn’t drink. Same with cigarettes, tried one once, gagged and vomited in my mouth a little. Plus I spend a lot of money to smell good, why waste all that effort? As for the coffee and tea? I’ve had one sip of coffee in my entire life. Totally not for me. Icky. Tea? I broke down and tried some “magical” ginger tea whilst I was pregnat. Let’s just say that vomiting up ginger tea solidified my passionate hatred for all things ginger.

So that brings us to BlogHer, where the liquor and coffee flow pretty freely. I won’t be drinking any of it. However, I’ll probably be keeping a Shirley Temple and hot chocolate count somewhere in my sidebar. I personally am a lot more fun sober. Although when you see me dance, you may wonder if I didn’t take a little nip when no one was looking.

Are you worried I’ll be talking to you all the while silently judging you and condemning you to hell for that gin and tonic in your hands?

Depends. Are you going to be accosting me insisting that I shove liquor down my throat, calling me a big holier than thou sissypants sissy for not drinking?

No? Didn’t think so. Just as I know you will respect my reasons for not drinking, I wholly respect your decision to drink. You’re a big girl, you can handle yourself. So assuming Shirley Temples are free, I’ll have a few drink tickets up for grabs.

See you in 19 days ladies.

That whole hot mess in Texas? Completely different religion than mine. I’d like to tell you the whole history of the FLDS church but I’m not sure where to go for reliable information. I do know that my church put out a press release explaining the difference and I’d encourage you to read it since I could never explain it so eloquently without sheer plagiarism.

This is where I lose some readers after scathing emails about the horrible church that I belong to. (It happens every time I post about religion.) And that’s just fine. You’re all entitled to your own opinion. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mean comments to yourself, save yourself the time spent writing the email and just hit “unsubscribe”. Thanks.

Anyway, the temple they keep showing in Texas and the temples that members of our church attend are completely different. While I won’t go into the sacred details of my temple worship I will tell you that there is no cyanide, no “wedding beds” and modesty is honored. The following quote is from lds.org:

“When individuals go to the temple, they should wear their best clothing, as they do when they attend church. When they are inside the temple, they exchange their clothing for the white clothing of the temple. This change of clothing takes place in a dressing room, where each person uses a locker and a private dressing space. In the temple, modesty is carefully maintained.

As individuals put their clothing in the locker, they can leave all their worldly distractions behind. Dressed in white, they can feel a oneness and a sense of equality with others in the temple, for everyone around them is similarly dressed.”

To explain it as easily as possible, nothing happens inside our temples that would offend even the most sensitive of elderly grandma. And truth be told I am sickened about the goings on in Texas.

Just as there are less than savory members of my church I’m sure there are some magnificent people who belong to the FLDS church. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt just as I ask you to give me the benefit of the doubt that I am a good person trying to do good in this world, regardless of if you agree with my beliefs or not.

So there you go, your friendly neighborhood Mormon standing up for herself. Now be nice. And go enjoy the sunshine.

Hello, your friendly neighborhood Mormon here to ask about Ash Wednesday.

Nope, we don’t do Ash Wednesday, nor do we do Lent. So needless to say we are easily confused when we see people with ash smudges walking around Target. Cody thought it was a joke he wasn’t in on, I was oblivious and my friend PolkaDots thought her friend had print toner smudged on her forehead and tried to wipe it off.

Whoops.

So (please correct me if I’m wrong) Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent, the 40 days until Easter that represent the time Jesus spent in the desert, where, according to the Bible, he endured the temptation of Satan. Wearing smudges of burnt palm leaves on one’s forehead is an ancient ritual that marks the beginning of the Lenten season on (the name is all making sense now) Ash Wednesday.

So that’s good to know. And kind of (not to sound condescending) neat.
You see, growing up in Utah there weren’t a whole lot of Catholics, Episcopalians and Methodists milling about (at least that I knew about). Another thing someone who doesn’t hang with a big Lent observing crowd should know is that a lot of restaurants change their menus during Lent. I’ve noticed that Wendy’s now has a fish sandwich, Taco Bell has a “Lent friendly” menu and apparently Chipotle “puts the burrito back in Lent.”

Things I would have never understood until moving here. I don’t remember ever seeing “Lent friendly burritos” in Utah. But caffeine free Mountain Dew? Only in Utah baby, only in Utah.

So to all my Lent observing peeps, do you not eat any meat (excluding fish) during Lent? What about eggs and stuff? Anything else I should know?

And does anyone else have any “I didn’t know about Ash Wednesday and tried to wipe someone’s smudges off” stories? PolkaDots was pretty embarrassed and would appreciate any commiseration.

Have I offended anyone? I sure hope not, because that is so not my thing.

You may not like Mormons all that much, you may enjoy thinking we’re big bunches of crazy more than acknowledging that we share the same air as you, but woo ha you’ve gotta love that we are organized little buggers. (And by “we” I certainly don’t mean “me”, I mean all the people responsible for running the LDS church.)

You may have heard on the news that our Prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, passed away January 27 at the age of 97. Now, the Catholics may not like this, but the Pope to the Catholic church is what the Prophet is to the LDS church. The only higher authority than the Prophet is God Himself.

And this is where I get to the organization part. And again, it’s not to make you a Mormon, or make you like us even more than you already should. It’s just a little (true) information about my church. Because if you’re not totally hip to the Mormons you may still think of us as a bunch of screwy, cult like polygamists. And really I don’t blame you if you choose to be naive. The false, screwy, cult-like polygamist stereotype is way more interesting than the completely normal God fearing family oriented truth.

On to my point.

Everyone who is a member of this church has (for the lack of a better phrase) someone to answer to. As a family we answer to each other. We in turn answer to a bishop who presides over our ward. (A ward is a congregation made up of people living in a certain area. (For example, back in Utah our ward was all the LDS members living in a six-block radius; out here our ward is all the members living in about a ten-mile radius.)) The bishop then answers to the stake president (a stake is a collection of wards in the same area; our ward out here makes up a quarter of Indianapolis. Back in Utah our stake covered about three square miles.) The stake president then answers to an area authority (Do I need to explain that an “area” is a collection of Stakes within a city, state, country or nation? Because I just did.) The area authorities report to the Quorum of the Seventy (there’s actually more than one Quorum and there’s a whole lot more than Seventy people in it, but that’s not important.) The Seventies then report to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, which are Twelve (generally older) men who are kind of like a board of directors. Above the Quorum of the Twelve is the First Presidency, made up of three men and led by the Prophet. (Think CEO, COO and CFO, only to God, not to a company.) The Prophet answers to God himself.

Now this is where the LDS church is unique. We believe in and sustain a living prophet who receives modern revelation through God. (Still with me here? How’s the crazy meter?)

All of our clergy members, be they bishops, stake presidents or the Prophet are unpaid and they are called to their positions by a revelation from God. This is another way our church is unique. None of our clergy are formally trained for their callings and they generally have another job outside their church duties. We had one bishop who was a retired three-star general. We had another one who was a mechanic for the FAA. Normal guys volunteering their time to watch over the affairs of the church and its members.

President Hinckley was the fifteenth prophet of our church (a lifelong duty once called), and today his counselor became the new prophet. His name is Thomas S. Monson and he’s a swell guy.

You still with me? Gosh, that was kind of you to make it through such a long post. I know, I KNOW. There’s someone reading this simply seething with righteous indignation. I don’t need you to tell me all the mean things that I’ve been told before. I’m a good person and I very much enjoy my religion. I’m not expecting anyone to agree with me, I’m just putting information out there in case anyone was curious or confused. If you weren’t curious or confused, then this post wasn’t meant for you, so click elsewhere and keep your mean opinions to yourself.

Thanks.

I sometimes wonder what someone with all the patience in the world could do for the moosh. Someone who had the patience to sit down with her and teach her every time she asks “BUT WHY?” instead of answering “BECAUSE.” Someone who could not worry about time and just let her wander at her own pace and discover new things. Someone who wouldn’t lose their own temper at every other blood curdling tantrum that came their way.

Why, oh why, do I only see my own glaring faults as a parent?

I am taken aback sometimes at the pure awesomeness that is the moosh. The things she says, the way she does things, the stuff she knows. Given that I am with her 90% of the time I should be able to take credit for a lot of that shouldn’t I?

So why can’t I? Why do I feel I am being self indulgent if I pat myself on the back for raising a somewhat decent and completely swell kid?

Ever heard the saying “I was a really good mom before I had kids”?

Totally applies to me.

***************************

I wrote this before I left for church. Before I left for church madder than a wet hen. As I sat in my class seething with anger and frustration at myself and the world in general the teacher read this quote from our late Prophet Gordon B. Hinckley.

“And so I plead with you tonight, my dear sisters. Sit down and quietly count the debits and the credits in your role as a mother. It is not too late. When all else fails, there is prayer and the promised help of the Lord to assist you in your trial. But do not delay, start now, whether your child be 6 or 16. Do not trade your birthright as a mother for some bauble of passing value. Let your first interest be your home. The baby you hold in your arms will grow quickly as the sunrise and sunset of the rushing days. I hope you will have every reason to be proud concerning your children. If with all you have done there is an occasional failure, you can still say, “at least I did the very best of which I was capable. I tried as hard as I knew how. I let nothing stand in the way of my role as a mother.”

It’s hard to be hard on yourself after hearing something like that.

I so love church.

First of all..

****To all the girls who keep hitting on Cody in my absence****

I understand. The whole strong silent type he’s got going? It’s very appealing, I should know, I was the original fool to fall for it. But serioulsy, lay off. See that ring? Left hand? Fourth finger in? He’s not leaving me for you. So quit handing out your numbers so liberally, especially you, yeah you, the 18 year old with the perky boobs. I’m way more bendy than you, I cook way better than you ever will and I know how my baby likes his stroganoff. Besides, once you actually marry him, he’s not so strong, and he’s really not silent. He’ll talk your ear off and you’ll quickly realize that he’s a pansy when it comes to moths and spiders. It makes him cocky when you guys keep hitting on him. And he’s obnoxious when his ego has been freshly stroked. So for the good of us all, quit it.

I can handle him better than you ever could.

Much obliged-Casey

*****

Okay. Sunday. Today’s episode is by the Salt Lake Tribune’s humor writer Robert Kirby.

Original article found here.

Not being electable puts me in good company.

By Robert Kirby

I’ve never wanted to be president of the United States. That’s probably a good thing. Even if I was smart enough to do the job, being a Mormon would keep me from getting elected.
    Pity, actually. Like many Americans, I have serious political convictions. For example, I’ve always believed that the greatest threats to our freedom are right here at home.
    So, if I ran for president – and by some interdenominational miracle managed to get elected – my first presidential act would be a complete naval blockade of North Dakota. We have to start somewhere, folks.
    What else? Oh, I would also have the Secret Service mail Larry Erdmann parcel post to Bolivia in a crate full of duck beaks.
    That’s all I can think of right now.
    As you can see, voting for me shouldn’t be based on what faith I practice (and still am not very good at), but rather the fact that I’m easily bored and constitutionally flexible.
    Truthfully, I’d rather be a Mormon than president. If I don’t like what I hear at church, I can go home and watch TV until I feel like going back. Try that with Congress. No, a president pretty much has to stay until it’s over.
    Not being electable just because I’m Mormon should bother me. Instead, it actually puts me in good company. For all our yammering about equality, Americans have been just as discriminatory about a female president.
    Lots of stuff is more important to voters than actual qualifications. We’ve never elected to the highest office a Jew, a black, a Latino, a homosexual, a bald guy, or even just someone noticeably missing a front tooth. The last truly homely president we had was Abraham Lincoln, and we shot him.
    I can’t remember the religious affiliations of any of the presidential candidates I voted for, probably because it didn’t seem to matter. Or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention.
    Exactly why it matters to so many people now is a bit disingenuous, particularly since we’re clearly willing to dismiss religion as a concern in so many other immediately important areas.
    If you wouldn’t feel safe with a Jew or a Muslim or an atheist in the White House, why aren’t you demanding to know if the pilot of your airplane is religiously compromised? What’s presidential incompetence compared to being flown into a mountain?
    Is your heart surgeon born again? Was the food you just ate prepared by someone with a personal witness of Jesus Christ? Does the person who drives your kids’ school bus even have a testimony?
    Given the American demand for political form over real substance, maybe getting elected president these days is actually more of an insult.

-Robert Kirby

I’m going to be posting every day in December.

I won’t see Cody for another 19 days, I will be stuck in the middle of the nowhere until January 7th and I will be stuck here with 5 nephews who happen to embody everything I fear about boys and children in general.

Ah, the holidays.

I need this blog like Clive Owen needs to be in more movies.

Mmm, Clive Owen….

*ahem*

I should also mention I have one niece but she’s less than three months old so I doubt she’ll be giving me much grief except the occasional fallopian twitch.

So there.

Every day.

And since I’ll be doing this every day and today is Sunday, the day I proclaimed to be all about making us Mormons a little less misunderstood, I’ll be sharing a little something we like to call a testimony.

I know that OxyClean works. I know without a doubt that OxyClean is the absolute best stain remover there is out there for my purposes. Yes, there are other cleaners that do a bang up job and some that may even work better for you and your own personal cleaning needs, but for me it’s OxyClean. I hope you’ll all understand my love for OxyClean and not write it off as some crazy product hawked by a bearded man on late night TV. OxyClean has made me the stain free clothes wearing person I am today.

I know that God lives. I know without a doubt that I belong to a church that is the absolute best church out there for my purposes and goals in life. Yes, there are other churches out there that do a bang up job and some that may even work better for your own personal religious needs, but for me it’s The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I hope you’ll give the LDS church some understanding and not write it off as some crazy religion brought to Earth in these latter days by a 14 year old boy in 1820.

I know what a difference it has made in my life, I know that above nothing else the message of the Savior is love. I know that I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows me, knows my struggles, knows my weakness and knows exactly what I need. I also know that He knows every single person out there, whether they know Him or not. I know He’ll be there for anyone who may need His guidance and love. I’m thankful to have Him in my life, I’m thankful for the gifts that He’s given me and I’m thankful to all of you, the faceless people who leave me kind words that keep me going everyday. (Okay, so I know you all have faces, pretty ones at that. But I don’t see them, get it?)

Any blessing in my life is because I (try to) keep Christ in my heart and follow the example He left for me, every single day of my life. I try. That’s all anybody can do.

Okay.

Well.

See you here tomorrow?