Chelsea Dyreng

July 1, 2014 · 3:15 am

How To Sing The National Anthem

The National Anthem and I have a long, bittersweet history. I have performed this song for firesides, basketball games, gymnastic meets, scouting events, baseball games, rodeos and horse races. I have sung before audiences of ten and ten thousand. In the 20 years that the Star Spangled Banner and I have been sharing the stage we have had our moments of great glory and complete humiliation.

If you are ever asked to sing this song in public, by yourself, I would warn you that the experience is not for the faint of heart. Here are some tips from an old anthem veteran:

2 weeks before you are scheduled to sing– Review all the lyrics as often as possible. Remember, this could be your MGM (moment of great magnificence), or it could be your MTMYSAYWTTYOSSW (moment that makes you so ashamed you want to throw yourself out a second story window). Get to know the words intimately. Think of them when you go to sleep at night. Think of them in the morning. Walk around the grocery store whispering the anthem under your breath, just to make sure you can sing the words in any situation and any circumstance. Get those words so cemented in your mind that if someone asks you “Do you know what the time is?” you say, “the twilight’s last gleaming.”

1 week before—Find a place where you can sing at full throttle. Ideally where no one else can hear you. Closets are good. Bathrooms are even better. Most people know the Star Spangled Banner was originally a poem by Francis Scott Key while he was watching the Burning of Washington in 1814. (I say most people. I knew one woman who publicly credited Orson Scott Card for writing the National Anthem.) But did you know there are actually four verses to the National Anthem? We only sing the first and, ironically, it ends with a question mark. Which, when you are in the midst of preparing to perform the song, seems appropriate since one never knows what will happen during an a capella performance. Singing a capella is like rock climbing without ropes. No matter how skilled or how experienced you are there is still the possibility that you will fall to your death.

1 day before– You will probably wake up with a nagging feeling that something you fear is following you around. Oh yes. It is the National Anthem. Keep singing the lyrics over and over, and make sure you get the “gleaming” before the “streaming” and not the other way around. Of course the most important notes are the first three: Oh-oh, say. Those are important because if you do not get the right pitch from the beginning you will not be singing a high E and the end, but something much worse, like a high M, and you might have to resort to some awful “trick” to cover up like pretend like you are crying. Which I have done before and is not very convincing.

5 hours before—Around this time you will become hypersensitive about your throat. You will probably clear your throat obsessively and swallow at least 35 times per minute. This is normal. Never in your life will you be so worried or aware of the amount of mucus in the back of your throat. Drink water, but not cold water. Gargle if you have to. Nothing can sabotage your performance!

1 hour before– You will probably start feeling shaky. Don’t be surprised if you get a headache, break out in hives, or have sudden episodes of bonelessness. Just practice singing it again a couple times, just to be sure. It is a challenging song and too much practicing is not good for your voice, so don’t overdo it, but you can keep reviewing those first three notes: oh-oh say. oh-oh say. oh-oh-say. Like I said, those first three notes will determine whether or not you can inspire patriotism in hundreds of beating hearts or if you will have to grab your keys and make a quick exit.

30 minutes before–You arrive at the event. Usually by this point my throat is dry and my eyebrow is twitching like goldfish that has been flipped out on the counter. If that happens to you, just remember that the National Anthem is always the first thing on the program so soon you can get back to being normal again. You might look down and notice the words to the anthem are printed on the program. Now everyone, you realize, even the people who don’t know the anthem, will be able to follow along and will know exactly which words you mix up. Or forget. Like that one time that I performed at a horse race when I was seventeen. I couldn’t remember “whose broad stripes and bright stars” so I sang the only words that came to my mind: the rocket’s red glare. The only problem was it wasn’t time to sing “the rockets red glare.” But by then my mind had gone blank and I couldn’t remember any other line, so I sang “the rocket’s red glare” three more times until finally I got to the right place in the song and belted out AND THE ROCKETS RED GLARE! THE BOMBS BURSTING IN AIR! And I have never been so grateful for bombs before. So perhaps there is an Orson Scott Card version after all.

15 minutes before–Make sure you take note of you appearance before you walk up to the stage. Are you showing anything you shouldn’t? I only mention this because one time I sang in jeans for a rodeo and had my fly down the entire time.

10 minutes before–The event begins and the emcee is welcoming everyone. You are getting hot flashes, cold flashes and weird luke-warm flashes all at once. Your trembling hands have twisted, crushed, and mangled the program and now it is on the floor in about six hundred pieces. But all of that is okay, because singing the National Anthem is one of the hardest songs for amateur singers to pull off, and produces the same biological chemicals that course through the veins of a cowboy straddling the back of a bull before the gate opens. I have no scientific evidence to support this, of course, except that I can see the whites of your eyes, the beads of sweat on your forehead and your face has drained itself of all pigment. Don’t worry, you are going to be grrrreat!

5 minutes before–Then the color guard marches out. They are just boys. Boys who will never remember you . . . unless you mess up. Then they will remember you forever, and on the playground the next day, they will impersonate you with astonishing accuracy using the same sound effects usually reserved for barnyard animals. That is the trouble with singing in public. No matter how many good parts you have in your performance it is only the mistake that people notice. That is why it must be flawless. You cannot fail. Oh-oh-say. Oh-oh-say. Keep repeating it.

3 minutes before–The announcer now says “please rise for The Pledge of Allegiance.” Are you okay? You look green. But don’t think green. Think red, white and blue! Here, breathe into this paper bag. And save the bag, just in case you need to put it over your head if you forget the words. Remember, Oh-oh-say, oh-oh-say, oh-oh-say. . . .

1 minute before–The colors have been posted and the flag is in its proper place, looking regal and majestic. Meanwhile you have laryngitis, bronchitis and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever all at once, plus the tingling sensation of an invisible noose tightening around your neck. Your stomach is lurching, your knees are trembling, and your heart is racing. Just don’t forget to have fun!

30 seconds before–PLEASE REMAIN STANDING FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM, says the emcee, and you start looking around for a fire alarm to pull. But instead you need talk to yourself. Take a couple deep breaths. Tell yourself you are awesome. You are a champ. But don’t pump yourself up too much because, after all, pride cometh before the fall.

Your dainty high heels thunder like barbells as you walk to the microphone. Ka-boom, Ka-boom Ka-boom. Try, at least, look like you are a queen, even though inside you feel like slime. Hold the mic in your hand like a wine glass, not a like you are gripping a helicopter skid that has you dangling over a canyon. Repeat in your mind: Oh-oh-say. Oh-oh-say. Do you have the right pitch? Are you sure? Are you positive? Well, it is too late now, so if you don’t, just look like you have the right pitch.

10 seconds before–But now you are center stage and there are three hundred pairs of eyes looking at you, making you feel as exposed as a freshly peeled banana, and the audience is hungry. There is no turning back now.

This reminds me of last summer when I sang this song before a crowd of 10,000. Yes, I said that right, 10,000. I won’t tell you where because I am also going to let you in on the secret: it was prerecorded. All I had to do was walk out there and lip sync. Perhaps the program director had heard the “Rockets Red Glare” story and decided to take preventative measures. The day before the performance I was taken to a small radio station and ushered into a recording studio. I belted out the anthem several times, and they took the best take. The next evening before the performance I was spared the pre-performance jitters and nausea knowing that this time there was no way I could mess up the words. I went out there and pretended like I was singing my heart out. It was luxurious.

But today is not prerecorded. It is all you. A capella. What is the exact translation of a capella, you ask? It means “loss of dignity, friends, and self-respect if you fail” in Italian, I think. But don’t think about that. Smile graciously and look over your audience. Make it look easy. Force yourself to do this thing you fear.

2 seconds–There is one more thing I forgot to tell you.

The song is a battle in itself. You are in a war against your fears. Will you succumb? Will you retreat? Or will you stand firm before the firing cannons? Will your flag still be flying at the end? Remember that being able to sing is not for you, but it is for others. Performing is a gift. Broaden your smile. Use your eyes and your face and your posture to let the audience know that you are not afraid. You are about to set off some fireworks.

And now begin:

Oh-oh say can you seeee. (Good. You got the most difficult line down. Good start, check. Good pitch, check. Now what was the next word? Oh yes–)

By the dawn’s early light.

What so proudly we hailed,

At the twilight’s last gleaming. (You passed the second great hurtle. I said “first gleaming” once at a minor league baseball game when I was twenty-three. That will never happen again.)

Whose broad strips and bright stars

Thru the per-o-lous fight (I know it is actually per-i-lous, but no one sings it that way.)

O’er the ramparts we watched

Were so gallantly streaming. (Thank heavens, you made it through the gleaming vrs. streaming part. The rest is easy, as long as you breathe.)

And the rockets’ red glare! (My favorite part.)

The bombs bursting in air!

Gave proof through the night (now comes the most important line, the line that makes this song what it is)

That our flag WAS STILL THERE!

Oh say does that star spangled baaa—nnneeer ye-et wa-aave (Almost done. Now the entire audience is bracing themselves for the next line. Will you make it? Will you burn and die?)

O’er the land of the FREEEEEEEEEE! (Hold this out as long as humanly possible)

and the hooooommme–

of the–

BRAAAAAVE!

And, like our beautiful flag, you are still standing: battered, exhausted and–miraculously–victorious. Now thank the Lord you were able to have this experience to sing one of the greatest songs ever written.

Play ball.

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Tagged as a capella, singing, solo, The National Anthem, The Star-Spangled Banner

June 16, 2014 · 12:47 am

Quest for Eastatoe Falls

Scott and I had planned on going backpacking with the kids for several weeks. Scott spent three days preparing for our trip and carefully packed and weighed each of the children’s back packs to make sure they would be light enough to carry, but still have everything they would need. Then he divided their tent into three parts, having each of the girls carry a part. I went to the grocery store and bought enough food for three meals for six people that weighed less than fifteen pounds and could be easily reconstituted with water. We packed headlamps, a couple diapers, and swim suits.

Then, on the very last day of school, which was a half-day, we picked up the kids and headed out west. We were going to Eastatoe Falls, a semi-remote campsite in the mountains of South Carolina.

We drove for four hours in the car, and 15 minutes before we were to arrive at the trail head we were battered by rain,

then hail,

and then this:

Yes, we saw it fall, not 10 feet from our van. You should have heard the screams in our van! (And just so you know, Erin Newton, I was not one of the screamers.)

Here is another angle.

Perhaps this was a sign that we should turn back. Or perhaps it was just a stumbling block in our path to adventure! We determined it was the latter and 45 minutes later we arrived at the trail head via a back road.

Once there, there was a sign posted, telling us that the campsite we were headed for was closed because of, ironically, too many fallen trees. Could this be another sign that we were to give up our journey? No! Just another challenge in our quest. We must not give up! Onward!

We loaded everybody with their packs.

This is me hiking. I’ve hiked so much in my life I can do it with my eyes closed.

It wasn’t long, however, before we saw this:

Now the kids, who can unfortunately read, were getting nervous. “Shouldn’t we turn back?” They said. “That is the second warning sign.”

“Nah…” we told them, “they just put up those signs for other people. Not for us.” See what great parents we are?

We directed them to keep moving down the trail, but the joy of backpacking was quickly dimming for our young adventurers and keeping everyone optimistic was getting trickier.

We tried to seem undaunted.

But by the time we passed the THIRD warning sign we reluctantly decided that perhaps we should go back. So with a heavy backpack and even heavier heart we turned around to hike back to the van. The kids were jubilant. Where we would spend the night we didn’t know. It was already 8 pm and soon it would be dark.

After looking unsuccessfully for a different campsite, we finally admitted defeat and began the search for a hotel. It must have been a busy weekend out there in the mountains because it took us stopping at SIX different hotels before we finally found a room in an Econolodge. I grudgingly admit that we probably slept better than we would have if we had been in a restricted campsite surrounded by widow makers. (Or, our case, orphan makers.)

But we still wanted to make it to the falls.

So the next morning we drove back to the trail head, and this time the kids could leave their packs in the car. We walked the 2.7 miles down into the gorge, passed all the warning signs (there were four in all) and down to one of the most lovely places on earth.

Our kids, who had been dragging their feet the night before, complaining and moaning, now practically ran down the path.

It was clear when we arrived that this was not Eastatoe Falls, but the Garden of Eden.

Three cheers for (safe) adventures.

Three cheers for dads who make adventures possible.

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Tagged as backpacking with kids, camping with kids, Eastatoe

June 4, 2014 · 4:11 am

A Day In The Life of A Kitchen

We GoPro-ed our kitchen. Here is my day in 3 1/2 minutes. You can see it best if you watch it on YouTube so that you can see it full screen. I’m interested to know if this is as fascinating to you as it is to our family 🙂 . Make sure the volume is up!

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Tagged as Family, GoPro, kitchen, mother, motherhood, parenting

May 19, 2014 · 2:30 pm

Strange Mormon Customs: Living Prophets

Shall we begin with an uncomfortable topic?

The Bible was written so long ago by so many different authors and translated so many times that it is hard to know what is applicable to us in this time period and what is, well . . . not.

There are a lot of topics that seemed pretty important at that time. There were a lot of “rights” and “wrongs.” Here is a short list: circumcision, baptism, priesthood authority, animal sacrifice, polygamy, sodomy, adultery, forgiveness, homosexuality, and that women should have long hair and remain silent at church.

Hm.

Which teachings of the Bible should we apply? Which should we ignore? If some verses of the Bible don’t fit in with modern society what do we do? Just skip them? And if our reasoning for believing this and not that is because we think that some of it is doctrine and some of it was just the social custom of the day, how do we decipher which is which? And once we’ve interpreted it to our own satisfaction, what if others of our same church come to the opposite opinion? Perhaps the easiest thing to do is just throw our hands up in the air and try to not think about death.

Prophets Then, Prophets Now

In the Mormon church we believe in all the prophets of the Bible. We revere them and honor them and we tell their stories to our children over and over. However, we believe that the most important prophet of all is the one that is alive now.

The structure of leadership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is patterned after the way Christ built His church while He was on the earth: with prophets and apostles. That is why we sometimes call our church the “restored” church.

President Thomas S. Monson (First prophet on Facebook!)

Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

The Purpose of Living Prophets

Like the past prophets, living prophets help us apply God’s laws and doctrines to society’s constantly evolving morality. He does not change church doctrine to reflect the current social standards, but instead guides us on how to use the doctrine to sail through the changing tides . . . and sometimes against the tide. He provides the confidence and stability we need when we are in doubt or are confused. To do this he also needs to have authority from God (which is a topic for another day).

However, there is . . .

The Downside of Being Prophet

Part of the burden of a prophet is that people think you are crazy.

It happened over and over in the scriptures, so it is no surprise that it happens now. Just pick a prophet: Noah, Moses, Elisha in the Old Testament. Peter and Paul in the New Testament. Lehi, Nephi, Abinadi, and Samuel the Lamanite in the Book of Mormon. Sometimes the most vicious unbelievers were members of their own families.

Those who find a prophet’s words hard to stomach are quick label him as old-fashioned, senile, stubborn, or fallen. That is because prophets have a hard task: they tell people to repent and change their ways. That is not exactly the fastest way to win friends. Here is how one ancient prophet put it:

“…If a prophet come among you and declareth unto you the word of the Lord, which testifieth of your sins and iniquities, ye are angry with him, and cast him out and seek all manner of ways to destroy him; yea, you will say that he is a false prophet, and that he is a sinner, and of the devil, because he testifieth that your deeds are evil. But…if a man shall come among you and shall say: Do this, and there is no iniquity; do that and ye shall not suffer; yea, he will say: Walk after the pride of your own hearts; yea, walk after the pride of your eyes, and do whatsoever your heart desireth—and if a man shall come among you and say this, ye will receive him, and say that he is a prophet.” Helaman 13:26-27

If Ye Believe These Things . . .

Believing the prophet is one thing, following him is another. There have been times in the history of the Mormon church when it would have been more tolerable to light yourself on fire than do what the prophet asked. Take polygamy, for example. Contrary to what you may have heard, the early Mormons were not jumping up and down to start practicing polygamy. It went against everything they were previously taught. It went against all the social norms. Even Joseph Smith and the other apostles recoiled at this revelation from God. But Joseph Smith and Brigham Young were not just prophets, they were seers. As in see-ers. A seer is someone who sees more than we can see. Someone who has a clearer understanding than we have. Polygamy changed the church in a way nothing else could. I can bet money that most of the people in the modern LDS church are decedents of polygamous ancestors (I am) and if they are not decedents, then they were baptized by someone who was a decedent. We don’t know all the reasons why the church had to briefly live the law of polygamy, but in many ways, polygamy is what made our church what it is today.

Does The Prophet Speak To God Face-to-face?

I don’t know. I’ve never heard a modern prophet say so in those words. I don’t think he would tell us if he did, since that would just make people think he was even crazier, and they would want proof, as people always do.

But we believe God spoke to the prophets of old, and I believe He spoke to Joseph Smith, and since our world is a lot more confusing than it was back then, I don’t see any reason why He shouldn’t speak to a prophet now.

Prophets or Wolves

What is the difference between a prophet whom some think is crazy and a man who really is crazy? They are out there, you know. Those people who say they are prophets. How is one to know the difference?

1. First, judge them “by their fruits.” When members of the church follow the direction of the prophet the church flourishes. It stands to reason that if the Savior created a church on this earth to be “His” church it would be a church that is growing, not shrinking. It would be a church that is alive, not dead. But the real fruits of our church are the lives of the members and the blessings that come into our lives as we live the gospel. It is pretty incredible, actually.

2. Personal revelation. If the prophet speaks and it causes conflict inside of us, we are not expected to blindly follow. But we are expected to search the scriptures and pray about it. We are encouraged to ask God for ourselves if what the prophet says is true. If it is of God, the Holy Spirit will let us know. Sometimes the words of the prophets and our own opinions clash so much that we just have to trust. Sometimes we have to be like the widow who served the prophet Elijah. She and her son were starving and Elijah asked her to make him a cake with the very last of her flour and oil. That didn’t make any sense. But she was obedient and trusted him. After he left her house her casks of oil and flour were never empty again.

Back to the Bible

Back to our original dilemma: What should we believe about the Bible and what do we ignore? And if we are picking and choosing what we are willing to believe, is the book useful to us at all?

Since God is the author of order, not confusion, there is a prophet on the earth today who does have the authority to highlight what is most important for us to know and do right now. He makes it clear what in the scriptures is still very relevant and what is not.

This is a big claim, I know. Especially since what the prophet says is not always in vogue. But when has a prophet ever been in vogue?

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Tagged as LDS, modern prophets, Mormon church, polygamy, prophets

May 15, 2014 · 2:18 pm

My Mother: A Study in Great Fashion

I am fortunate to have a wonderful mother.

I am also fortunate to have a lot of photos of her wonderful clothes.

This is Patsy, newly married. My dad called her his “raven-haired beauty.”

Bridal Veil Falls

Funny how fashions come back . . . I actually think I saw this very outfit in the Lands End catalog last week.

One of my favorite photos of my parents:

Hawaii

My parents loved to travel and this photo was taken in Mexico. scan0102

My mom could make any skirt look good.

My mom told me some old lady called her after church and told her that “a mother of four children shouldn’t wear skirts that short.” This bothered my mom for days until my dad told her that was the way he liked it.

She also had a thing for red nightgowns.

scan0275

scan0337

For me? Oh, thank you! More clothes!

I’ve been looking for this sweater in thrift shops for years:

Berries taste better when you look good.

My mother was a perfect hostess….

…and the perfect centerpiece to any picnic.

This little green number was in our costume cupboard for years. We were all a little afraid to put it on.

Vanessa, my mom told me she lent this to you. She says she wants it back.

How I love my mom who made whatever she put on look stunning.

My mother bore seven children, travelled the word many times, planted hundreds of trees and served four missions. And she did it all with grace, courage and excellent style.

Love you, Mom!

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May 15, 2014 · 1:15 am

For Middle Grade Books, Ask The Experts

I eat books for breakfast.

My name is Sophie. I just sabatoged my mom’s computer and apparently I just spelled the word “sabatoged” wrong. Oh, well. I know this is off topic, but I hate spellcheck.

I heard that she was writing this blogpost and so, who do you think the experts are? Adults? They don’t know what middle schoolers like. (Even though I’M not in middle school yet. I almost am!)

Book number 1:

11 Birthdays

This book is a book more for girls but it is very good. It is about a girl named Amanda Ellerby who has the same birthday as Leo Fitzpatrick. Their great-grandparents were enemies until something magical happens to them. The curse is on the children too. On their tenth birthday, Leo says some mean words about Amanda. Then a year later, on their eleventh birthday, they still hadn’t made up, so they are caught in time. Their eleventh birthday will repeat itself until they can make up.

I liked this book because it as a mystery and Amanda was so much like a real girl. It is a VERY funny book.

Book number 2: (Well, really, series)

The Heroes of Olympus

This series is about two camps for the children of the gods. One is for Greek demigods, the other for Roman. The last time they met, it was the American Civil war. They are working together to fulfill a prophecy. However, an evil spirit controls Leo, one of the demigods, and makes him accidentally blow up a bunch of the Roman camp, (plus the yelling and screaming chaperone Coach Hedge didn’t help, but anyway) so the Romans get mad and the three demigods there, Hazel, Frank, and Percy (who is actually Greek, but was abducted by the goddess Hera-long story) barely manage to get back on Leo’s flying warship. Then they are chased by Romans to the Ancient Lands, where Annabeth (another demigod) has to search for the lost statue the Athena Parthenos. She finds it but THEN her and Percy fall into Tartarus.

I liked this book because it is full of adventure. Also, I like all of the characters and how the action never stops.

Oops-my mom just came in. Busted!

Okay-I’m back again! So, where were we? Ah, yes, book #3:

A Little Princess

So, this book is about a little girl named Sara (and no, it is not spelled Sarah, it is SARA!) who has a very rich daddy. She is sent to boarding school where she is given everything she wants while her daddy is away fighting. However, her dad dies on her eleventh birthday, and so she has no more money and she has to work as a maid. She still has friends though because she is very kind and generous. But she is worked way too hard still, by the evil boarding school headmistress. What will happen to Sara? Read it to find out!

I liked this book because it was all about kindness and how she survived rough times. It was also about how if you give, give, give, you’ll end up with everything and if you take, take, take you’ll end up with nothing.

****

This is me with my new nook. I saved up my money for a year to buy it!

Mwahahahaha! This is Syrena! And now it is my turn to sabotage the blog that Sophie sabotaged. (Oh, and I spelled “sabotage” right. Ha!)

Book #1:

The 6th Grade Nickname Game

This book is about two boys: Wiley and Dave. They give nicknames to kids-and teachers-at school, such as a kid named Peter who always gets into others business is called Snoopy and the principal who they call “Deer-in-Headlights” because of his stare (behind his back, of course!). Anyway, they get a new teacher, Mr. Hugh, who is also a high school football coach. He introduces a new girl, Cassandra, who has red hair and some really fabulous skirts. The Nicknamers start thinking of a nickname right away.

Meanwhile, the class takes a test and get terrible scores. On top of Mr Hugh yelling at everyone to give it “one hundred and ten percent”(while disturbing the other classrooms and stomping so hard he knocks some plaster off the ceiling of the class below him and kills a class pet) the other teachers prepare to fire him. Snoopy snoops around and finds out, and Cassandra gives the whole class a pep talk to convince them to begin a read-a-thon to save their scores on the big end of year test, all while Wiley and Dave are competing to get Cassandra to ask them to a big dance where the girls ask out the boys.

Who will Cassandra ask? Will Mr. Hugh lose his job? And will a friendship tear apart because of a girl? Read “The Nicknamers” to find out!

Book #2:

Firegirl

This book is about a girl named Jessica who was badly-and I mean BADLY-burned. She goes to a Catholic school where they sometimes hold hands while they pray. Of course, nobody wants to hold her hand because it was burned and now looks melted. But one boy-who happens to be her neighbor-is brave enough to do it. Eventually he becomes her friend and even nominates her for class president (even though nobody hears him).

Book #3 (series):

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

So above Sophie told you about the Heroes of Olympus series, and that is a good series, but if you want to understand it better, you should read this series first. It’s about the adventures Percy and Annabeth had before Percy was taken to the Roman camp (long story-literally. See “The Son of Neptune” for the long story and details). Mainly it’s about Percy’s fight to destroy Kronos, and if you look carefully in book 5, The Last Olympian, you may be able to find Gleeson Hedge’s name. You know, the seven demigods’ “responsible” chaperone. If Sophie failed to mention that… she’s got work to do.

Well, Mom, ha! I made it so you can’t edit this, and so all of this stays how it is. However, we promise to try to stay off this blog in the future. I am NOT vouching for Naomi, though!

Adios, readers!

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May 7, 2014 · 1:04 pm

The University of Dyreng

I once heard someone say that you can tell which universities are the best by the amount of construction they have on their campus. Let’s hope that is the same for homes, too.

Barbie’s “Dreamhouse”

300 piece puzzles: Syrena’s latest hobby

Library day

Naomi and Dan’s Flower Nursery

Danny, in his element.

Papers filled with jibberish that Scott leaves around the house to make us all think that he is smart.

My current project: putting the finishing touches on the Ugliest Pioneer Dress Ever

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April 29, 2014 · 2:24 pm

How To Be Perfect

Perfection.

There was a time, long ago, when I was perfect.

It was in high school. I had perfect grades and perfect hair. I had perfect friends who did perfect things. I was perfectly behaved. I always made my bed. I won almost every contest I entered and qualified for every scholarship I applied for. I was graceful. I was fit. I baked pies.

But then I went to college and I suddenly found myself surrounded by hundreds of other perfect people. My magic touch only worked half the time. Compared to those around me I had semi-perfect grades and I was almost graceful, and not quite fit enough. I won half the contests I entered.

And then . . .

. . . I had children.

Now I get pink eye every other week. My clothes stay clean for the first five seconds after I put them on. The last thing I won was a Relief Society cookie-baking contest in 2006.

The only clean room in my house is the front porch. I shudder every time I consider wearing my high heels. Three days ago I dropped this pizza on the floor, without one child in the room that I could blame.

Then there are days like today when I think I have everything together, everything is in place. I am showered, my kids are showered, and I get all five of them to the dentist for their appointments not only on time, but early . . . only to find out we are there on the wrong day, and at the wrong time.

I started my adult life reasonably intelligent with more than my fair share of potential. I work hard. I try hard. I do have goals. You would think that as life goes on I would eventually get better, not worse.

The Most Perfect Person of All

At church I teach the 14 to 18-year-old teenage girls, an age that is often obsessed with perfection. Last Sunday I brought a picture of The Most Perfect Person In The World and taped it to the chalkboard.

The Most Perfect Person In The World, Exhibit A

I asked the girls to tell me what makes Barbie perfect. Here are some things they listed:

Beautiful, perfect body, perfect hair, a million different dresses, the perfect boyfriend, a big house, lots of jewelry, lots of friends, lots of careers, etc, etc, etc.

After we talked about Barbie for a while I took down her picture and put up a picture of this person:

The Most Perfect Person In The World, Exhibit B

Then we listed all the things that made him perfect:

Humility, love, kindness, mercy, meekness, forgiveness, etc.

After listing these attributes we compared the lists. Even though both Jesus and Barbie are often described as “perfect” there was not one quality that was common between the lists. Not even one word. The closest thing was that we had described Barbie as “nice” and Jesus as “kind.”

One of the girls pointed out that our society distorts the word perfect. But after discussing that further we decided that the meaning of the word perfect was not just distorted. It had come to mean something completely opposite.

So the opposite of perfect is. . . Perfect?

Exactly.

Years and Millimeters

I took a college course on calligraphy. The word calligraphy means “beautiful writing.”

It was not an easy class. When you first begin this class you do a lot of uglygraphy.

For the class we did not use felt markers, but real nibs like this.

And real ink like this.

In calligraphy mistakes are obvious and ugly. Often we had to take out a new piece of paper only to make another mistake. There were always so many ways to mess up, so many things that could go wrong, so many ways to fail.

For instance, we had to learn several different “scripts” (fonts). Some scripts have serifs. Serifs are the teeny tiny marks at the ends of each letter. The scripts that don’t have them are called sans serif, or without serifs. People often talk about dotting your i’s and crossing your t’s, but with the art of lettering you also need to make sure you have every serif in its proper place, with the proper angle and the proper length. If your serifs are not parallel it can make your finished product look less like art and more like the worms drying up on a sidewalk after a rainstorm.

Plus, spelling becomes a major issue in calligraphy. You become so focused on your strokes, so aware of the amount of ink in your nib and so nervous about spattering ink on your expensive, pristine Bristol paper, that it is not uncommon to suddenly realize you left out a p in the word happiness or you suddenly can’t remember how to spell the word and. Spelling catastrophes are common and devastating.

In short, there are a million different ways to mess up. Just like life.

It is important to have guide lines to help you stay on track. These were our practice sheets.

Some scripts require even more guide lines.

The more we practiced using these guide lines the better we became. (Also like life.)

With each assignment we improved . . . kind of. But our work, even by the end of the semester, did not look anything like our teacher’s.

One day he brought in some slides of his portfolio and we gaped in awe. He was a master. His artwork was flawless. Then he told us his secret.

“Years and millimeters,” he said. “That is how you become a master calligrapher.”

Years and millimeters. Did not Christ learn that way, too? Perhaps even someone who is perfect has to grow into their perfection, little by little, grace by grace.

A Race We All Can Win

We all come to earth with different talents that get us different places. Some people are born better at learning. Some people are born with athletic gifts. Some people are lucky enough to be born with that particular body type that is marketed to us as “attractive.” But there is a limit to how much we can change about our appearance and our raw talents. Not all of us will compete in the Olympics, earn PhDs or win a beauty pageant. Sometimes we just can’t be faster or smarter or prettier. It is just not possible because it is not in our DNA.

But all of us can be kinder, more patient, more generous, more humble, more meek. That is the kind of perfection that each of us can improve on, and that is exactly the kind of perfection God asks of us. And it is in our DNA because we are all sons and daughters of God.

That makes the pursuit of perfection a race everyone can win because it is not about competition and all about self-mastery. God does not compare me to others. He compares me with who I was yesterday. He doesn’t care if I am better than someone else, he cares if I am better than who I used to be.

So now that I have five children I do not win as many contests as I once did. I am not as glamorous or talented or graceful as I once was. I probably make more mistakes now than I did before.

But I will tell you that, even with the dark circles under my eyes, my stained shirt, and the crumbs in my hair, I am more forgiving, more gentle and more patient than I ever was in my 36 year history. I have decided that perfection less about the spilled milk and more about keeping my cool as I clean up the mess. I guess you could say that I am closer to perfection than ever. I have a long ways to go, of course. But I will get there. Year by year, millimeter by millimeter.

Strange Mormon Customs: How We Pray

First, we kneel.

fold our arms,

and close our eyes.

And then stay very still.

Then we thank our Father in Heaven for all of our blessings.

And then ask Him humbly for the things we need.

It is not always easy to do all of this, especially when you are four years old, you don’t want to go to sleep, and there are distractions. . .

. . . in the room.

But we go through this ritual every night with our children. We do it because we know that beyond the tennis lessons, swimming lessons, and music lessons, learning to pray will be their most valuable life skill.

Besides teaching them to kneel and close their eyes, we will teach them to ask God questions. Lots of questions. Questions about life, about love, about small decisions and great ones, too.

We want them to understand that He is the source of all Truth, and that all doubt and fear and regret can be resolved through Him.

We want them to know that God pays special attention to the prayers of children.

We tell them that there was once a boy, not much older than they are now, who grew up in a small town where the all the adults were confused. Listening to people argue about what was true and what was false made the boy’s head spin. He read in the scriptures that if you lack wisdom, you should ask God. When he read those words he realized that if he wanted to know what was true, asking God was the only way to really know.

So the boy went out into the forest one morning to be alone. He knelt on his knees and asked his question, and his prayer was answered.

Read the full story here.

Adults are still confused. A lot of them are confused because they have forgotten how to pray, or were never taught. When they have a question the first place they go to is Google. Then they read articles written by other people who are more mixed-up than they are.

We are trying to teach our children that there is a better place to go when life gets too complicated.

We want them to know they can go to Him with any problem.

We want them to know that they don’t always have to be kneeling to pray. They can pray while they run, too. Especially if they are being chased by. . . say. . . a bear.

We can’t always pray to change someone else, but we can always pray to change ourselves.

We want them to know that their prayer does not end with “amen.” That they can keep a prayer in their heart the entire day while they search for the answers to their prayer.

We want them to learn to recognize that the answers can come by way of promptings, dreams, visions, thoughts, ideas and the goodness of other people.

We want them to know that sometimes the answers don’t always come easy. Sometimes they will have to wrestle with God to get an answer, not because He doesn’t want to tell them, but because He wants them to become strong.

We will teach them that if their bedroom is too noisy they can go somewhere else. A closet. A bathroom. A car. A trail. A forest. Somewhere they can be free to speak what is on their mind without distraction.

We want them to know that even though we are the parents of their bodies, God is the parent of their spirit and His spirit will speak to their spirit in a soft, quiet language that they must learn to understand.

We want them to know that they are never alone.

We tell them to never let a day pass by that they don’t check in with the Lord, and we make sure they understand that we are not telling them to do anything we are not already doing ourselves.

Well-meaning people sometimes whisper to me, “enjoy your children while they are young, before they are corrupted by the world.” But my children cannot be corrupted if they learn from a young age that they have a Heavenly Father who loves them and is eager to help when they ask. If they continue to do pray every day for the rest of their lives they won’t have struggles that will bring them to their knees because they will already be there.

They are destined for hard times, to be sure, and when they are in trouble we hope they come to us, their parents. But as long as they keep going to their Heavenly Parent it really doesn’t matter. If we can teach them to pray on their own to their Heavenly Father, He can teach them everything else.

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April 29, 2014 · 2:08 pm

Strange Mormon Customs: Big Families

Once, when my husband told a co-worker that he had four children the man joked, “So are you Catholic or Mormon?”

Ha! And that was only for four.

It is obvious why devout Catholics end up with big families. But Mormons? What is their deal? Do they not use birth control either? Do they get a tithing discount for every child they have? Are they doing it for tax incentives?

Or are they trying to take over the world?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps it is because it makes us happy. My husband’s mother bore six children and my mom had seven. We both loved growing up in large families.

I have three amazing sisters to laugh with, cry with and swap kids with. I have older brothers who picked on me mercilessly but also stood by me when I was in trouble. Growing up, I adored my many cousins and still keep in contact with them.

As a child in a big, loving family I never even considered having less than twenty.

It is no secret that our church leaders tell us regularly to “multiply and replenish the earth.” The fact that we would take such counsel seriously makes some people squirm.

But before you think we are all just mindless rabbits, let me assure you that we are faithful people, not stupid people.

There is no quota. We are not asked to procreate at will without considering the mother’s health (physical, mental and emotional) and many other factors that may make it difficult to support a large family. Whether or not birth control is used is up to the couple’s agency and discretion. In my opinion, to keep adding children into a family without thought and planning is as bad an idea as using abstinence (in marriage) as birth control. Having a child is a huge decision, but having a healthy relationship with your spouse is paramount.

Church leaders are simply asking us to not let selfishness or fear of the future overcome our desire to have children. Once, when Scott and I were deciding on when to have our third child, it seemed as if there was always some impediment nine months away that would make it difficult to have a baby. But we decided that if we waited for the “perfect time” to have a baby it would never happen at all.

More often than not babies find a way to be welcomed, cared for, loved, and never regretted–even when at first it seemed like it would be impossible.

Many people who don’t have large families can’t understand the desire to have one. My grandmother, for instance. Each time my mother would call my grandmother–who was not a Mormon–and announce she was again pregnant, my grandmother would tell her she was a “glutton for punishment.”

Since I am number six, I’m glad my mom didn’t listen to her.

I have found that the blessings of having a big family are innumerable. When you have a large family you are automatically part of something. You belong. (And if you have a big enough family you are sure to have at least one sibling that you like.) Everyone needs to belong, to be inherently admired and loved…not because they have done something special, but merely because they exist.

That is why people who don’t have supportive families join gangs.

When you have a big family every day is a party. There is always someone to play with, to serve, to talk to, to commiserate with, to make you laugh.

There is a reason why they call families of lions “prides.” You feel great pride when you are part of a large, respected family, headed by a matriarch and patriarch who lead and teach with love and a great affection for their posterity. You feel that you have a stewardship to your family and you are constantly encouraged to honor the family’s name, to keep it untarnished.

People who have never grown up in a family like this don’t think that it is possible.

But it is.

I do know of one Mormon friend who felt “lost” in her family. She felt like there were so many kids that she didn’t matter. She was one of 15. All the more reason for parents to be wise and thoughtful when making decisions to have another child.

Another reason we have lots of kids is because Mormons are alwasy on a quest for self-improvement. We have a great desire to become better, to refine ourselves, to achieve excellence. Is there no greater refiner’s fire than to raise a child?

Peter de Vries wrote “The value marriage is not that adults produce children but that children produce adults.” I know of no other occupation that demands so much focus, creativity, endurance, wisdom, unconditional love, selflessness, generosity, humor, patience, sacrifice, kindness, innovation, organization, composure, self-control, cleanliness and tolerance. The more I try to “master” my children, the more I learn that it is more about mastering myself.

It is true that kids can be a pain sometimes, but they are also a lot fun. They are fun to tickle, to teach, to hold, to laugh with, to cuddle, to sooth, to heal, to learn from. They each come with their own very unique personalities–even my identical twins–and it is fascinating to get to know them as they grow and mature.

As Latter-Day Saints we believe in the eternal nature of families. The family relationships we nurture here will be one of the few things we can take with us to the next life. If being with your family forever and ever and ever doesn’t give you motivation to get along, nothing will.

I used to think that the things that would give me the greatest joy would be to sing on big stage in front of thousands (which I’ve done) to go kayaking on a glass-smooth river (which I have done) or to publish a novel (haven’t done that one yet). But the greatest joy I have is to hear my kids laughing together. To watch them playing together. To witness them doing something kind for a sibling without being prompted.

That is true joy.

Perhaps I will change my mind when I finally publish a book, but I doubt it.

As I sit here and finish this post I am entering my ninth month of pregnancy. I am large and so obviously pregnant that it is no longer taboo for perfect strangers to ask me how far along I am. And they almost always add, “Is this your first?”

Chelsea Dyreng

How To Sing The National Anthem

Quest for Eastatoe Falls

A Day In The Life of A Kitchen

Strange Mormon Customs: Living Prophets

My Mother: A Study in Great Fashion

For Middle Grade Books, Ask The Experts

The University of Dyreng

How To Be Perfect

Strange Mormon Customs: How We Pray

Strange Mormon Customs: Big Families

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