Not the Three Tenors

Three missionaries and a family of three

With this week's letter from TMFKATB, he filled us in on what it's like to be training two missionaries at the same time. It is something of an unusual situation, as typically Mormon missionaries work in pairs (because you've seen two of them at your door or two of them on their bikes), or companionships as they are known in the vernacular of the Church. That is, as I said, the typical situation and, of course, TMFKATB finds himself on the outside of typical.

Six weeks ago, he started training a brand-new missionary. Normally that training lasts for two transfers, as these six weeks period are known. Last week, TMFKATB learned he'd be training again - another brand-new missionary - but that young man would join as a third. So the duo becomes a trio. The Three Tenors they are not. But just as Jose, Placido, and Luciano had to learn their voices, these three are learning to do the same. They are learning to blend their voices (in another language) and their styles of teaching as well as their desires to serve their fellowman. As he put it, "It's going to be interesting." I'm confident he'll make it work.

As I've noted before, it's been quite an experience as a father to be taught by my son as he serves this two-year mission. He and I were going back and forth about a challenge (albeit a minor one) that has been vexing me and out of nowhere, he popped off with the following:

Maybe God just wants to work even harder than you are to do this. You can do much harder things. You got this. Think positive.

He didn't cure cancer with that statement, nor did he explain why the awful Kardashians are a thing (only Satan himself can do that). What he did was state simply what I needed to hear. Am I ever glad for the simple things!

#ragey

#ragey

As we grow older, I've heard it said that less and less seems to bother us. As I continue the march through middle-agedness (T minus 11 months to 50!), I'd like to think that this is true of me. I really would like to, but as it turns out I'm not quite there in my progress. There's still plenty of inconsequential stuff that gets me all kinds of ragey.

The latest? The details don't really matter and besides that, I can't figure out a way to describe it without revealing too many details of the lame situation. OK, I'll give you this...would it kill you to move a couple of chairs and pick up a few crushed Cheerios? Although I'm being intentionally vague, I can tell you that it was those set of circumstances that set me off yesterday and carried into my Sunday morning.

I suppose I should wonder about my state of mind if some crushed cereal bits and misplaced chairs were enough to get me ragey. I'm evolved enough to recognize that and so it got me thinking. I genuinely had no reason to let something so small upset me and as I thought about it, I realized I'd ceded all control to the situation. I'd let something of zero consequence upset me. If this had been a war-time battle, and I were a leader, and I reacted in the same way, I would have already lost the war. I'd rather not live my life, taking the losing position. I'd really rather just take the high road.

Joshua Lederberg once said, "All of civility depends on being able to contain the rage of individuals." What wise words from a Nobel prize winning molecular biologist! I also found some wisdom from the Book of Proverbs in the Old Testament:

He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city

that is broken down, and without walls. ~ Proverbs 25:28 

Building

It's a basement, not a coal mine, but
well-played on the hard hat!

One never knows what surprises the weekly letter from TMFKATB will bring. While he was in Mexico, it was a lot of wondering how graphic will this week's description of his stomach ailment be. Life behind the Zion Curtain has been a little different. This week's letter had a couple of surprises in it.

First, there was the whole "Working in a Coal Mine" (name that band in three, two, one...) motif in the picture. It's a basement, not a coal mine, so not sure why he had the miner's hard hat going, but good for him. A chunk of his time the past week was helping someone build a room from the ground up in a basement (drywall, sheetrock, mudding - the whole nine yards). He said it was a lot of fun, but wore him and his companion out.

He then talked about a random invitation to someone in a McDonalds turned into another opportunity to serve and teach. Then he relates how David Archuleta came and spoke / sang at a mission conference. The biggest surprise? TMFKATB really liked the guy. While you serve as a Mormon missionary, you're media intake is drastically different than when you were a 'civilian.' Turns out that the dulcet tones of one Mr. David Archuleta can have an impact on a musically savvy twenty year old. So today's letter really was a grab bag of things.

As I read it over again, I see how his experience building the room in the basement serves as a metaphor for the building that's occurring in his life right now. As he serves, he is learning and building his character in ways that will serve him well for the rest of his life. He's building on experience after experience that he will draw on as he continues to mature and takes on life once he returns from his mission service. I'd call that priceless.

Presenting Our Baby Jane

Our Grandbaby Jane

In 1962, an American film about two not aging well has-been actresses, starring two not aging well leading ladies whose collective celebrity had long since gone the way of, oh I don't know, the Titanic, was foisted on the public. The two leading ladies? Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, just a couple of broads who detested each other, both of whom would later be remembered for their highly questionable approach to motherhood. The movie, you ask?

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane

If you've not seen it, you need to. It is a tour de force in scenery chewing. Seriously, it's an 11 on the over-the-top meter. We're talking DefCon 5, but seeing a completely nutty Bette Davis still thinking she's her child star alter ego, Baby Jane, is pretty funny stuff. Her Jane is a train wreck.

That's scary.

See what I mean? She a mess.

So why the 'Baby Jane' references? Because we now have our own Jane and she is perfect!

Our granddaughter was born yesterday, October 16th, entering the world just before 1PM, weighing 8 lbs., 3 oz., and measuring 19 inches long. She came in a pound lighter and two inches shorter than her brother, so the delivery for her mother, Our Lady Of Awesome, was a whole lot easier (spoken like a man who A) was not even there and B) has never experienced childbirth, so my editorializing is 100% worthless).  Our sweet Jane also came into the world with a whole lot more hair than her brother did. She came into this world with three generations of mothers waiting for her: her mother, her grandmother, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML, and her great-grandmother. Although she won't remember it, Jane has been already been so richly blessed by having the three of them in the room as she was born. These amazing women will be Jane's examples, support and they will love her fiercely. Also waiting right there was her father. He will be her protector, her shoulder to cry on, and he will love her just as fiercely. Jane's brother, at two years and change, seems pretty fine with her arrival. He will soon wonder why she can't play with him yet and why he is not allowed to push the baby swing like it's a battering ram (this may take some delicate negotiating on the part of his parents). He'll soon be the one to not let any bully mess with his sister. He will love her fiercely.

I won't get to meet our sweet Jane for another two weeks (curse you, stupid, stupid work commitments!). For her, though, that's probably for the best. Let her get adjusted to this new world before Grandpa shows up, crying uncontrollably at the sight of his new granddaughter (the crying is a lock, so why pretend it's not going to happen?). Also, since 'indoor voices' is a concept I'm not a big fan of, at least she'll have had two weeks preparation before I turn up.

In the meantime, I'll just revel in pictures like these that are coming fast and furious:

Mother and daughter,
heart to heart

Sweet Jane, working the Utah do' rag

Welcome, sweet Jane, to our family. We are so glad you are here. Our joy is overflowing!