Final Judgment

I have a thought on the final judgment.

Basically after we die our good and bad deeds are measured against each other. Right? Well, this is the very dumbed down kind of explanation. There's obviously a whole lot more, including the fact we couldn't do any of it without Jesus's atonement, even if we were nearly perfect.

That being said...

I think parenthood may be Heavenly Father's way of insuring that he gets as many people back as possible, because it is tough.

Even the most impatient parent who lets their children live deserves sainthood.

Even those of us who send kids to their rooms, not because they were doing anything bad, simply because we need a moment of quiet deserve sainthood!

Everyday that I'm around my children I deserve sainthood!

Mothers of boys DESERVE SAINTHOOD!!!

I'm pretty sure we are given this opportunity to make sure that no matter what else we do in life, the good outweighs the bad.

Everyday of parenting just gives me a small leg up on the bad things I've done. (Now for that bank I've been meaning to rob...)

Yay Procrastination!

I didn't even bother to look at my homework until last night at about 9. When I did, what did I find?

Ooh I only have two major midterms, a major math assignment and 2 outlines all due today. The first test is my very first class, so I haven't even had time to study.

Awesome.

I'm so on top of things!!!!

Way to go me.

Sweet Justice

A few nights ago, Kyle and I had a fight. Not an honest to goodness someone-is-wrong-someone-is-right kind off fight. It was just a stupid little thing. I wanted him to turn off all the lights in the house and get us a snack from the kitchen. He thought I should do it. (Not to try to sway anyone to my side here, but WHO is six months pregnant with a back that screams everytime I so much as laugh? Yeah, I thought so)

Anyway, we went on and on over who was gonna shut the house down before bed. I finally told him I was just not going to do it. Well, if you've ever used this kind of definite shut down, you know it doesn't go over very well. He decided a compromise would be best.

I thought his compromise was stupid, but workable.

The compromise was he would go downstairs, get the snack, and turn off all lower level lights. My job was to turn off the lights upstairs. The reason I thought this was silly was that he was going to pass right by my switches twice: once on the way down, once on the way back. But sometimes, you just have to do rediculous things.

Off Kyle tramps downstairs. Unhappily, I push my gigantic bum out of bed. I turn off the bathroom and hallway light. Kyle turns everything off downstairs and heads back up to bed. Well all the lights in the house are now off and he can't see a thing. He trips over a laundry basket and ends up hurt on the floor.

I, of course, good wife that I am, hold in my giggles till I'm sure he's okay. I even wait till he's in bed and has had a few minutes to recover. I ask, "is it okay to laugh yet?"

"Not yet."

I manage to hold it in for about another 30 seconds.

Not quite an I-told-you-so moment. I thought it was even better. It was instead sweet justice. Karma.

Whatever you call it. It made my night.