I love Spring!

This week I took the kids for a picnic at the splash park. They had so much fun, even if Jacob tried to drink the water. Mmm. Too bad Anna missed out because of school, but I am sure she will have plenty of chances this summer. I love ym cute kids!

Another Genius Moment for Feminism

I remember when feminism used to have purpose, but that was before I was old enough to know what feminism was. It seems as though the modern quest for equal rights has gone completely insane. Women end up looking more like idiots than intelligent beings worthy of respect.

Here's our latest example of feminism at it's best: two dozen women marching topless through Portland to prove the double standard in society concerning male and female nudity. The marchers wanted to prove that topless women are the same as topless men. What they weren't expecting, because they obviously have been living under a rock, was the male oglers that the march would draw.

Ty McDowell, who organized the march, said she was "enraged" by the turnout of men attracted to the demonstration. The purpose, she said, was for society to have the same reaction to a woman walking around topless as it does to men without shirts on.

Really? Um, was Ms. McDowell on drugs, drunk, or psychologically unstable when she planned this protest and made this statement? Because I can't figure out how any sane person would ever think a topless woman would get the same reaction as a topless male. But then I dare to believe that men and women are different. Gasp! It's true, I admit it. I actually believe the hogwash in biology books and what life experience has taught me. I've given birth to children and breast fed while my husband has been unable to do so. So I'm willing to accept that our bodies are made differently and, thus, are not identical. Therefore, I do have one more private area to my body, my chest, because of the way it was created.

I don't know how I have lived all these years with such a burden, truly I don't. I have felt so trampled down by men because I have been assigned one more "special" part of my body. Oh, the cruelty of it all!

Aside from physical differences, let's just talk about common sense. We live on this crazy planet called Earth. And on this world there are these people known as "men". Due to physiological differences, men think about sex a lot more than women. To put it bluntly, men like boobs and looking at them. Most people know these facts, unless they are living in an alternate reality like our dear above mentioned marchers. This goes to show that if a woman takes off her shirt in public, she will get just a tad bit of attention from the opposite sex. Seriously, how stupid can you be?

Topless women will never be seen the same as topless men. Marching around showing your boobs is not going to help the feminist cause or get the right kind of attention. I just saw a shirtless old man working on a car today, his gut hanging over the hood. That was scary enough. I really don't want to see my sixty year old neighbor weeding her flower bed topless. I'd much rather prefer everyone keep their clothes on. I like using my brain, rather than my body, to make a point. Call me old-fashioned.

I'm not aging, everyone else is!

This month I am turning 31. It all seems like a bunch of numbers to me. I don't feel like I am 31. I'd put myself around 25 in my mind. Sure, my body has shown a few signs of getting older, but nothing to worry about. I can't actually be in my 30's, though. It's just a number.

But what does make me feel old is other people aging. Next month my oldest child will be turning eight and getting baptized. What? When did Anna get old enough for that? Not only that, but she has started to ask more observant questions about the moral code of the world she sees outside of our home. Huh? She's too young to notice these things.

Or what about the twin boys from our ward who were barely in Young Men's when we moved in? They seemed so little back then. No way they can they be going on missions!
Speaking of missionaries, they seem like kids to me now.

Then there's the younger siblings of friends from my youth. I keep running into them on Facebook. They're all married and have a child or two. This past week I got a wedding invitation for the younger brother of a friend. The last time I remember him he was a little deacon. Isn't he still that age? When did he grow up and who said he was old enough to get married?

This also applies to nieces and nephews. I remember my little niece when we got married. She was just a girl and so excited to get a picture of me in my "princess" wedding dress. Now she's old enough to date. Or my other niece, who I remember babysitting when she was in diapers, will be starting her Senior year this next school year. It blows my mind!

You see, I'm not really aging. I'm still young at heart. It's everyone else that keeps growing and aging. They're the ones trying to give me a complex. They're the root of the problem. Me, I'm still cute and young at 31. Just don't tell me about another person younger than me getting married or having kids!

He Lives

May you all have a wonderful Easter. This is the reason for Easter, what gives me hope in my darkest hours, gets me out of bed when I'd rather not, overwhelms me to tears, and brings immense joy and hope to my life. . .

I Know that My Redeemer Lives

I know that my Redeemer lives;
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, He lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever living Head.

He lives to bless me with His love,
He lives to plead for me above.
He lives my hungry soul to feed,
He lives to help in time of need.

He lives triumphant from the grave,
He lives eternally to save,
He lives all glorious in the sky,
He lives exalted there on high.

He lives to grant me rich supply,
He lives to guide me with His eye,
He lives to comfort me when faint,
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears,
He lives to wipe away my tears
He lives to calm my troubled heart,
He lives all blessings to impart.

He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly Friend,
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while He lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death:
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.

He lives, all glory to His Name!
He lives, my Jesus, still the same.
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives,
I know that my Redeemer lives!