Scripture Stories, the Resolution, and Doubt

2007. Little bench in the hallway where our scriptures sat from 12:05 pm every Sunday until the following Sunday at 8:55 am, when we snatched them up on our way to church. Handy...they were never misplaced.

Are you still reading after my scripture study confession yesterday? In the hope of redeeming myself, I have to explain that it hasn't always been this way. I have done better.

In 2006 in fact, the boys and I read the scriptures almost every night, finishing the Book of Mormon that year. Okay, okay...it wasn't the actual Book of Mormon. It was this:

This is an awesome book - it takes all the exciting stuff from several chapters and groups it together and retells it in a language that my boys can understand. And that Moms can understand.

There are a few gory pictures, couple of people being burned, stabbed, or otherwise destroyed and humbled. This was my favorite picture.

The year before that we were reading this version - even simpler.

Just a sentence or two to go with each picture.

So I have done better in the past, mainly reading with the boys. We really fell out of the habit last year though. And with Troy gone most nights, it's all up to me, yadda yadda yadda. Sometimes it would be ten o'clock when I was tucking the boys into bed and I just didn't have it in me. Blah blah blah.

I need to do better. I can do better. I will do better.


This year, with renewed ambition and resolve, I'm bringing out the big guns. Large print edition.



No pictures, just words.

Hold me.



A few days ago, I mentioned to Cameron that after the first of the year we'd be reading our scriptures every night (and by every night, I probably mean Monday - Thursday), and trying to hold Family Home Evening more often. It was something we really needed to be doing...it was my New Year's Resolution

He chuckled. It had to be a chuckle - he wouldn't have laughed at me, would he?

"We probably won't do that."

"What? Why not?"

"Just 'cause."

And with that, I accepted his challenge.

We started last night.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad, You Take Them Both and There You Have, The Facts of Life...The Facts of Life

Somehow we managed without Blair, Jo, Tootie, and Natalie. Mrs. Garrett might have come in handy though - she was one smart lady.

Over the past few weeks, and after several conversations with different people, I've had the overwhelming feeling that it was time to discuss a certain matter with Cameron.

It's time for that talk. The big one. Bigger than Santa. Bigger than the basic shower and wear deodorant every day sort of discussion. I'm talkin' straight up, Birds 'n Bees, how it happens, when it happens, why it happens and what all the parts look like.

He's turning 11 next month and I know that the school will be having Maturation Day for the 5th graders in the spring. He needs to know. He just does. He's remained (I think) very sheltered as far as what he knows about the subject, but it's only a matter of time before he starts hearing things and I just want to make sure his information is correct.

He did not want to have this talk. We tried about a year ago, asking him if he had any questions about where babies come from, or how babies are made. He started crying and asked us, "why are you talking to me like I'm an adult?"

Okay, so he wasn't exactly ready then. But that comment did tell me that he knew enough to not want to talk about it with us. We backed off.

But now, I've been feeling like it really needed to be done. The feelings have been strong enough and persistent enough that I'm calling it Mother's Intuition. Embarrassed or not, he was going to learn the Facts of Life.

I was probably 8 years old when I got the facts. My Mom was pregnant with my younger brother, so I'm sure my parents figured it was time to answer the obvious question - though I don't remember asking.

They had a book titled How Babies are Made, and I sat on the couch between my Mom and my Dad and read it out loud to them. Oh yes. The book covered the very basics, from the individual parts that the man and woman are bringing to the table, er, the bed, to conception and growing womb, ending with a blanket wrapped baby. The artwork looked like pieces of felt cut into very basic shapes - not a lot of detail. But it is etched into my brain, forever. Reading a book like that out loud to your parents will do that to you.


Time to do a little etching on Cam's brain.

I hit the library, confident that a book was still the way to go - though I would do the reading.

I found one by the expert herself,

but it was for very young children. And it didn't cover enough of the stuff he'd hear at Maturation Day.

This one was excellent - though just a touch too much information for our very first talk. It was mostly text, geared to young teens, and I'd definitely get this for him to read on his own in a few years. It was written to include morals and staying chaste, and waiting for marriage - almost with a little bit of guilt and threats at the end. Not completely the LDS angle, but close enough when paired with For The Strength of Youth.

The book I ended up using was this light-hearted, pragmatic (thanks, Sarah !) picture book by the guy who does the Arthur books. It covered all the subjects that I wanted it to, and the illustrations were appropriate. As we looked at all the drawings of the pieces and parts, I wondered if Marc Brown really just wanted to go back to drawing Arthur and his good friend, Buster.

I used this book as kind of a cross reference - something to back up the information, in a "see, this is that same stuff again" kind of a way. The Bird and the Bee became a little irritating after a while, but probably only to me.

Cameron knew that I had gotten the books from the library and that I was planning on having the talk. He protested, insisting that the only thing kids talk about at school is football, and he did NOT need to know about this. I gave him the option of having Troy read the books with him, and he tried to hide a smirk as he agreed to me.

I called him to the couch, and he ran to his room to get a blanket to wrap up in. It wasn't cold, he just needed a full body embarrassment shield. See, he can't tell me he doesn't know something. He flopped down on the couch, looking like a Muslim woman in full burqa gear. Only his eyes were visible under the deep hood of the blanket. We plowed ahead.

I read and pointed out specifics on the drawings, tracing pathways, and asking if he any questions along the way. He did not. He stayed covered for the most part. I asked if he wanted to keep the books for a while longer, maybe read them by himself, but he was positive that he knew all he wanted to know. Could he just go back to the computer and being a kid again?

Siiiiiiigh. I think it went well.

He did make two comments that made me laugh. First, I had told him that one of the reasons we were having this talk was because of Maturation Day - that I didn't want him to be surprised at school. Then one time, in the book, the word master**tion (just being careful of the ads) came up. He asked at the end,

"So at school, on Master**tion Day, it will just be like a review, right."

MaTURAtion Day, Cam. MaTURAtion Day.

The other funny thing was when we were talking about body changes and the hair that will grow on various parts, including his face. He nodded and said that a kid in his class already has a pretty big mustache. I wasn't surprised - some of these kids are big! Then he said that the kid is a girl! Oh no!!! I told him to be extra nice to her, that she's got some tough years ahead of her.

So anyway, he knows. First Santa, and now this. Good grief.

I need a Diet Coke.

At least he still kisses me good night and gives me hugs whenever I ask. I'm just going to keep on pretending that he's my little boy..who knows stuff.

How did you learn the Facts?

How have you taught the Facts?

A Fine Day

Clear back in August, when I was getting ready to go to Bear Lake for a relaxing vacation, I grabbed a bunch of books and magazines at the library. Beach reading at its best. I had a few of the Sweet Potato Queen books and lots of back issues of People magazine. There's nothing like curling my toes in the sand and reading about and seeing pictures of the messed up lives of celebrities, to make me feel all summery and relaxed and blissful about my own perfectly normal life. I like to eat Whoppers and steal drinks from Troy's Diet Coke while I thumb through the pages.

One day last week, I got a call from the computerized lady at the library, telling me that I had three items overdue. Two of them were books that my boys were reading - I knew about those, but the third was one of the Sweet Potato Queen books. Left over from August. Great.

The biggest problem was that I had long ago returned everything from that trip. I'd been so careful, keeping all the books in the truck for travel reading - which I can do just fine until we hit a canyon - and the magazines in my beach bag. I am always so paranoid about losing something from the library - it's never inexpensive, and I just knew that I had returned it. Felt it in my bones.

The book was not anywhere in my home. It was 6 weeks overdue, and I'd done plenty of cleaning, and organizing, and putting away since then. If it was in my home, I'd have come across it by now. I checked the cars, thinking maybe it had fallen in between seats or something. No book, but I did find quite a few french fries, some Pull 'n Peel Twizzlers that had been pulled, peeled, and dropped under the back seat, lots of trash and water bottles and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup that had melted and re-hardened. Because I was so stressed about finding this dang book, I ate the cup. Yes, I have no shame when it comes to peanut butter and chocolate, and yes, it was still delicious.

Troy went up to the lake and brought the trailer home. Hoping against hope, I checked all through the cabinets and under cushions and inside cubby holes (trailers have loads of cubby holes) - still nothing. Ugh, I hate losing things - especially things that don't belong to me. Librarians can be a tad cranky when you lose their books.

Time to face the music of my lost book. Go to the library and fess up. I hoped it wasn't a rare copy of an out-of-print, first edition, signed by the author, kind of book. I had to return the other two late books (barely late - the boys need three weeks and three days to finish a book), plus I needed to get some mystery books for Aaron. I was gonna have to pay for everything before they'd let me check out any more.

Oh, and I also had a little fine from some overdue videos from long ago. 'Bout 8 bucks worth. This fine had been hanging over my head for some time, but with the new "check yourself out" feature at my library, I've just been ignoring it, scanning my books and getting outta there. I keep trying to be more responsible about the library due dates, but like I've said before, stuff come up!

I walked into the library yesterday, holding my head high and carrying my debit card and two books. I decided to put on a happy face. I wouldn't be bitter, I wouldn't be ashamed, I was just going to be super friendly and nice and apologetic and hope that the librarian wouldn't treat me badly.

I waited at the counter for someone to come hear my tale - you know I wasn't just going to say that I had lost a book and wanted to pay for it, along with all my other fines. It's the details that would explain how badly I felt about all of this, details about vacations and reading by the beach, and searching the house and car and trailer, and feeling it in my bones that I had returned this book a long time ago. The details would let them see me as more than just an irresponsible woman who can't get her life together enough to return things on time and keep track of books. I practiced what I was going to say.


The librarian that came over to help me was new. I had never seen HIM. That's right. It was a man. New gameplan. Now, I was not only going to be super-friendly and nice and apologetic...I was going to be charming. I can do charming.

"I owe you a whole bunch of money. Can you help me figure it out?" I started off with a smile.

"On these two?" He took the books from me.

"Yes, a little bit, but the computer also says that I still have a book from August. I can't find it anywhere." I told him all the details, all the charming details, emphasizing just how hard I'd been looking. I handed him my card and he looked up my account.

"Uh huh. Not much on these...it looks like there's an old fine on some videos...and yeah, this one is really overdue."

"How much does the book cost?"

"It's $12.99 but there's a $5 fee whenever a book gets lost. I'm sorry."

"My punishment...I understand." My lower lip may have jutted out, just a teensy bit.

"Tell you what...you don't have to pay that right now. I'll put a hold on the fines that are accruing and you can keep looking for it. You'll find it in the next month or so, right?"

"Well, I really don't think I will. I've looked and looked.... Is there a chance, I mean, does it ever happen, that a book gets returned and lost in all this?" I gestured at the stacks and stacks of books on the counters. "I really thought I had returned it."

"Stay right here - I'll go look for it." And he went off to do just that.

A few minutes later, he headed back towards me, waving the book in the air. He was smiling. I clapped my hands and smiled right back. My bones had not lied - I had returned the book.

Now he was the one apologizing. Silly library, losing books like that.

He added up the rest of my fines, and I couldn't resist asking,

"Since you had the book all along, do I get that $5 fee as a credit for all my worry and searching?" An eyelash may have batted.

"Tell you what," he said again, "I'll just waive the entire amount. Don't worry about it. I'm really sorry about all this."

I thanked him and told him that he was so so nice and that he made my day. I let him waive the entire fine.

Shameless? You bet.

Shameless enough to eat old chocolate, melted and re-hardened into a lump, shameless enough to charm my way out of a hefty library fine. That's me.


Have you ever talked/charmed your way out of something?