Ever wish there was an undo button for things that you’ve done?

I took my daughter to her college freshmen orientation yesterday. It got me remembering my favorite math teacher from high school. My daughter was fortunate to have had him too. Some of the most valuable things he taught me was to ask questions and not be afraid to ask for help. Even though I know this, I don’t always apply that principle.

I cleaned out my laundry room last week and moved a hutch out of there thinking of putting it in my craft room. I took Dandy Dancer with me to buy some paint to finish a table that I bought at the DI a few months ago. I asked her if I should buy some paint to paint for the hutch too. She suggested a bright teal called Lagoon. I was daring and purchased four cans of paint.

I painted it and now I’m thinking, “What have I done?!”

Where’s the undo button?!

I then went onto Behr.com. I’m thinking I now need to paint the entire craft room to coordinate with this hutch. I think the Lagoon color is bold enough so I need something more mild. I found a color scheme that looked good on the computer. I head to the store and buy paint. It’s called Book Binder and Subdued Hue. After the lady mixes it up, I’m not sure that is going to look as good as it did on the computer.

I have now piled all my craft stuff into my laundry room and kitchen. Yes, I have a lot of stuff crammed into that small room. It’s a mess. We can’t eat in the kitchen. I can’t do laundry. And the sad part is this all started with cleaning the laundry room. Haha.

I painted two of the walls with the darker Book Binder and the other two walls with the Subdued Hue. The dark color is looking darker than I want. Again, where is that undo button?!

Several months ago, I asked someone for help. It didn’t work out. Instead someone else got all the help I asked for and more. I wish there was an undo button for that. Maybe someday I will tell you more about it. It was the beginning of my series of troubles that lead me to starting this blog.

My mom doesn’t like snakes…at all! I grew up not being a fan of them either because of the way my mom was about them. As I have become a mom, snakes haven’t creeped me out like my mom. I can look at a picture of them and not be grossed out. I even looked at dead one in the road on my nightly walk just last month. No big deal.

Last Saturday morning I woke up from a nightmare. I dreamt that I was working in my yard. I had a frog that was helping me. He was kind of a big frog, bigger than the usual in my neighborhood. At one point I was holding the frog but then he jumped down into some water by my driveway but it looked like a green gel surrounded him, maybe giving him some sort of protection. I’m not sure exactly. I then walked to the middle of the street and then walked back. I then noticed that my neighbors had some tall grass that looked like it had been trampled down forming a pathway. I walked over to look closer. I saw a huge snake that was trying to get my froggy friend. I started calling out the name of my frog and I realized he had the same name as my little 4-year-old son. The snake was bothered that I was trying to rescue this guy. It started coming after me but I kept calling out the frog’s name. This made the snake really angry. It became more aggressive. It lunged at me and I reacted by putting my hand out in front of me. Then, I woke up with my hand hurting.

The dream has meaning to me. As you might already know, snakes are the symbol of Satan. Satan knows that if he can get the mother out of the way, then he can get the children. I worry that I might be caught. I worry that I’m not doing enough to keep my children safe. Where can I get some of that greenish protective gel that helped my frog? I would love to lather my children up with that but what do I do about me? I do all the churchy answers, say my prayers, go to church, read my scriptures. What more can I do? Ok… I confess. I used to watch Glee because I really liked the music and Sue Sylvester made me laugh but really, there is a lot yucky things in there too. It’s like the cockroach in the ice cream thing. One yucky thing can ruin a good thing.

Today is Father’s Day. My children were actually willing to help me make a special dinner for my husband. My little 10-year-old, Fancy Princess, was happy to peel potatoes for mashed potatoes. Halfway through she found a rotten potato with a worm in it. She freaked out and was done helping. Ninja Boy and Buster Boo wanted to see it and got all grossed out. I came to the rescue and threw the potato in the garbage in the kitchen. Shortly after that, I had Buster Boo throw away an empty juice bottle. For some reason he freaked out and threw the juice bottle out of the garbage sure that the worm had gotten on the juice bottle.

Now Buster Boo is only 4 years old. This worm has really set him back today. He wants me to double check the pantry to make sure that there aren’t any more worms. Then he had me check under the couch cushions. He wouldn’t go into the bathroom unless I turned the light on for him. During dinner, he didn’t really eat his dinner especially when the rest of the kids kept talking about the worm. Buster Boo wanted Dandy Dancer to check the house and pantry again for worms. She was able to convince him the worms were gone.

My confession today is that church is sometimes hard for me. I love my church. I love the people there. I love my Savior and have a testimony that the church is true. Just lately, I feel misplaced. It’s a series of events that have led me to this feeling. It’s like a worm but I think I am the worm that everyone sees as ruining things and that I am yucky. I know it’s not true but yet when I’m at church, those feelings of insecurity rise to the surface. I go to church because I want to be obedient. The Lord has blessed me with so much that I need to do and be better than what I am. My worry is that I may never be good enough. I worry about talking to people because I may say something that shows how sad I am. I don’t want to be that sad person. I used to be one of those happy people at church. You know that lady. The one that says all the right answers whenever she adds a comment to the lesson or is funny. I didn’t always give the right answers but I tried. But now I worry about making any comment at all.

On a good note today, an older lady came up to me to tell me how much she appreciated a comment I made about a month ago about prayer. It has helped her. I always pray before I make my bed. If my bed isn’t made, then I know I haven’t made my bed. She said even at her age you would think that she would remember but this little trick has helped her. I guess that’s one less person that I have to worry about that thinks I’m a worm.

I’ve decided to start blogging. I haven’t started one before because I worry that it will be one more thing that I will be behind in doing. I also worry that I am not writing enough about my life and my family, which are very important to me.

Last fall, one of my college professors told me I should start a blog on all the things that I worry about. I replied, “I worry about what people will think of me!”

In the last six months I have had some devastating moments where I thought I had disappointed people that I care very much about. I have tried to fix it but still feel like I will never  be good enough. I’m starting this blog to help me get over worrying about what people think of me and to remember the good things that I have in life. I have many amazing things in life that are such a blessing. I have a wonderful husband and amazing children. I must’ve done something good in my life somewhere to be blessed with such a wonderful family.