I was 13 years old during eighth grade, just two years into my bra stage, never been kissed and bright-eyed for the future. That's when me and Paula became buds. I had long chemically treated hair, and I would wake up early every school day to do something different. Crimp! Hot Roller Curl. Straighten. Braid. As the years went by, I eventually cut out the annoying primping routine in honor of the Grunge Movement, Plaid Lumberjack Shirts, and good old-fashioned sleeping in. And Paula saw me through my big hair days to my grungy plaid and boots phase as well. She had her own hair phases similar to mine. This is us somewhere in the middle:

So it's been a good 10 + years (and 30 + pounds) since I've seen Paula. I was excited and nervous, evident by the fact that I reenacted my 8th grade habits by actually spending forty minutes doing my hair and make-up before she came.


I was finally able to meet Paula's husband and son. Since they drove all the way to my house, we fixed them our favorite food which you must fix this week for somebody you love if you truly love them with more than just words.





One thing I never knew back in "the day" was that Paula had her own chickens when she was a little girl. So we sent her off with Rainbow Girl to collect the eggs...for old time's sake.


In conclusion, women need women. It gives them focus for the future when someone knows (and can laugh about) their past. Thanks for coming to play Paula.

Advice to the masses: Don't for one minute think that you marry a person as a separate entity from their family. The mafia, the Mormons, and your grandmother are right: You marry the family. And I couldn't be happier to have married into the family of The Mister of the House. I hereby present, on this Lovely Monday, the lip attachment of his DNA contributors, otherwise known as my kids Grandparents, and The Mister's parents.



Although I asked them to pose for this shot, it couldn't have turned out more authentic. She's just breathing him in and he's pulling her in close, cherishing her at the same time. I think I can safely say that they're sharing an inside joke that might go something like this:

These young kids don't know much about love, but it's sure cute to see them try. Remember when our "Mister of the House" was a teenager who couldn't even bear to go on family vacations with us? Let's just cross our fingers that all these grandkids will see all the sights and know all the love we have for them, and that their parents (our kids) will make it through wiser, happier, and more in love.

So I can't help define "their love" and how it's unique without keeping it in context of The Mister of the House, he being the oldest of seven children (you heard me, seven!) and a very lost and lonely soul from about 14 to 20-something.

Well, he made friends and enjoyed his hobbies, it's not like his entire life was a void of course, but a part of him was searching for spiritual peace during that time (and he looked for it in a lot of stupid places). He and his parents seemed to go through their own evolution together...and yet I think it was the love of these people with unique names, this Herm and this Norma, that eventually brought my husband back to his true self. His self as a son of a Heavenly Father who desperately desperately loved him.

Throughout those years his parents were always happy, truly happy to see him and hear how he was doing. While there was disappointment in the path their son was leading, they laid off the "How dare you!" or "You were raised better than that!" speeches (He was well into his teenage years by then, so I can still give those speeches to my very impressionable young kids thank you very much).

But anyway...

Apart from being an anchor to a wayward son, what makes their love unique?


He absolutely spoils her every Christmas even though she's not your diva-mom that would expect that type of thing. She puts on a major spread on the dinner table for most of her family every Sunday, all the while being shadowed by her man cleaning her trail in the kitchen (there's just something about a man who can clean a kitchen that will always win a place in my heart). He is an overworked attorney, and yet never seems to bring the stress of his job back home, and is quick to squeeze his Norma even after a crazy day at the office. She works hard to install lots of crazy and memorable traditions for her family throughout the year, and with all her careful planning is happy to sit back and let her man preside over the family with love and wisdom. There's something so daring about that in our modern day society. And they make it work because they adore, love, and respect each other. And their kids.

Whether you're blogging to a personal soundtrack, or stepping away to fix dinner, you will be dually served with some de-stressing tunes. I have some music you must connect with your mac, PC, laptop, iPhone..whatever. In a matter of clicks, happiness can be oozing from your speakers to slime you with love.


Gen Xers old news: Pandora

Baby Boomers What is Pandora?: It's an online radio station that inputs a favorite song, band, or genre and pulls up artists with similar qualities. So if you once had friends that were in the know about the latest and greatest in the music scene, you can let them move on with their life and have Pandora take their place. Sortof (Kristi, I still miss you if you are reading this).

The link to Pandora is here

When there, enter in the following band name: Innocence Mission

You will then be served with a delightful array of tunes. It's been a smash with any girlfriend I've had to the house: "What mix is this? I love it!"

You've heard this old wives tale right? A woman cooks a ham and instinctively slices both ends off before putting it in the oven. At the table, her kids begin wondering: "Why do you do that?" and she says something like Well I don't know, my mom always did it. Let's call my mom!

...if my kid is cuter than yours. I mean, it's not like I had time to notice with this mug shadowing me around. And he's just sooo darn cute. Here is the toothy, happy, moody Buddha Baby at sixteen months.

Since I've already lamented about my cheap-arse brother here, I thought I would now share the love. Here is his image for my kissing wall, pictured here with his wife of *almost* fifteen years. Here we go:

The perfect parting of the lips...

how shall I make the 5 hour drive home?

instead of on my love, my life....my Salina.

Okay, so I just made that up right? Amazing I know. Since this picture was just before they got in their car for their drive home, I thought it was appropriate. I actually wrote that channeling Clay, but for Salina. It's complicated. Somehow she (Salina) seems to embody all the romantic tendencies of the female gender: the bling, the smelling good, the getting all dolled up and making all the other aunties...I mean females, look like slobs who wear workout clothes but never go to the gym.

Plus, I'm quite sure that if Clay came home with a dozen roses, Salina would run up and squeal with delight, pure giggling delight! and not in a silly way. I just love going to a comedy on the big-screen with that girl, she laughs proud and loud.

You can see in her eyes she quick to humor, and she's generous enough to laugh at my brother: even when he's being a cheap-skate.

There's a sing-song quality to her laugh that I wish I could put on the blog. And if you get her in a movie that is good and funny, she belts a cross between a guffaw and a hardy-har-har and then ends it a triple note Ha-ha-HA! that trails upwards into space. I went to I-Spy with her and laughed more at her, laughing at the movie.

Clay and Salina. What makes their love unique? They started out playing college ball and sharing a bus on the away games. While they started strong and tough, they really just longed for a quieter life with the pitter-patter of little feet. After a few years of coupledom, their prayers for offspring were answered with the thundering of the uterus full of triplets. And while Clay had the business smarts to support his growing family in whatever he put his mind to: he also had (and has) the charisma to evolve himself in a changing world. He upped his college degrees with a plus-one (MBA) after the triplets and while working full-time, and put in the time (and moo-la) to allow his wife to be home laughing and loving on their adorable offspring. Salina maintained her sanity (and her figure) by keeping a great sense of humor and being one of my favorite motherhood blends: loving but no-nonsense. Fifteen years later, they've still got love to spare on their five adorable and squeaky clean kids.

Speaking of fruitless resolutions, and setting yourself up for disappointment, I am just realizing on this cold day in March that my first quarter of 2009 is nearly over. And also that I wanted to read the entire standard works this year.


Since the standard works are essentially in four sections, that means I should be finishing the Old Testament by the end of this month. And I'm just barely escaping out of Egypt...I haven't even supped in the quiet grace of Esther, beheld the armies of Jericho, or thrown Daniel in the Lion's Den.


But I have to remind myself, that enjoying the scriptures as a long tall glass of water is the better part to being in a mindless hurry. So in order to not be discouraged, and give up altogether, I remember Moses:


Ever mindful of his weakness (slowness of speech among others)he steps into the darkness with faith: The Lord has a plan for me and His people.


With a staff of wonders, a faithful brother as a spokesman, he approaches powerful prideful Pharoah. He has permission to unleash wonders, signs, and tempests if it will get the job done. He has a covenant people who have a special election:

Slavery, burdens, and disregard for their life is standard. They have heavy hearts, and in modern-day society, a big-time class action lawsuit would have clearly laid out their injustices, and paid for the college education of the upcoming 3 generations of Israelites.


My movie-sense knows what is coming next, and how mighty Moses, with the Lord at His side, could rightly condemn the idolatry, dictatorship, and greed of Egypt.

Mrs. Olsen as Hollywood Screenwriter writing for "Moses": Your false gods will sustain you no longer. The true and living God shall scourge you for your disregard of human life! Let my people go or you will pay...big time! [glower eyes and lean in aggressively] You. Can't. Win. [steps back from a frozen and bewildered Pharoah and nudges off to the side]. Israel, go get your things. We're leaving. [pause. snickers quietly and turns back to Pharoah] Good luck getting your golden gazelle to the fourth story antechamber. [swaggers off as Pharoah's countenance hardens into an angry furrow].


So something like that right? But his first petition to Pharoah actually goes like this (Exo 5:3):





What all those movie-renditions kept leaving out, was that with each new petition to the Pharoah, and each subsequent wonder from heaven, was the quiet request NOT to "Let my people go you big jerk!"......but rather,



Undoubtedly Pharoah made things worse than they could have been, what with his continual hardening of his heart. And who knows, perhaps the faith of Israel could have flourished alongside that harsh environment, but it seems to me the greater sin of this arrangement was this: refusing the blessings of service.

While it is clear that their law required sacrifice, feasts, and rituals as a form of service to their God, the Lord has made it abundantly clear the full definition of service to include: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these...ye have done it unto me."

Sometimes the Lord makes us strong enough to bear our burdens, and sometimes he puts on a multi-million-dollar fireworks show to lead us into a new haven in the wilderness. But in both instances, it seems we are not to lose our focus of the importance of reaching outside ourselves, to serve.

Which is why this blog post is over! I've got the littlest people of the kingdom to take care of: fevers to drop, diapers to change, pee-stained sheets to wash, and songs to sing....all of this amidst the undone resolution to be thin and fabulous, among others. Here's to your health and wellness (and mine!) growing grace by grace.

Have the best of days. With love,
Mrs. Olsen
current lover of Moses... though it should be Isaiah, and ideally Shadrach, Mesach, and Abed-nego

One blustery January day, I met the face of a ponytail-slithering-just-above-the-collar female cop telling me my registration was expired.

Fortunately I had just renewed it online, and didn't have the sticker for my license plates yet. I had already updated my new address with the drivers license division. I wasn't speeding. I was off the hook. Yee-haw.

The thing is, she noticed my expired registration just down the street from my house. My house is a good three-point-five miles from Rainbow Girl's school. And like a good neighbor, she quietly followed me through 5 turns over 3 miles, parked to the side while I drove to Rainbow Girl's school and let me drop her off, and then pulled me over. I guess her female-ness had enough motherly sense to know that a minivan heading out at 8 a.m. was going to a school.

But her cop-sense found a gold-mine in trailing me that day. This same slithering ponytailed make-up-free female cop stalks the school in regular rounds now. I had never before seen her until I led her that fateful day in January, and now it's a perpetual stakeout. And as a testament to my crime-free neighborhood, she stalks out well-meaning parents with broken taillights, no seatbelts, or expired registrations.

I sit in the drop-off lane and cringe with my secret.