Epic Meal Time

Caution: If you have high cholesterol just reading this may make it higher! 

Imagine: ten pounds of succulent beef, dripping with grease flattened out across a pan. Covering this meat, bacon doused in fat and salt, woven together to make a blanket of deliciousness. On top of this blanket twelve baconators (for those of you who don't know what those are they are basically hamburgers with bacon) lined up evenly in two rows of six, buns soggy from the grease of the meat. As if this is not enough, another pink blanket of woven bacon laid neatly on top of the burgers. To finish it off, one last layer of ground beef to bury the middle was placed on top. A large boiling pot of savory Jack Daniels Barbecue sauce mixed with Martinelli's apple cider sat on the stove. Our mouths' watered. A sweet, and tasty sauce that was to be drizzled over the masterpiece once it was finished.

                                                                                                             

  This is one deep dish that no one should mess with. Thousands of calories jam packed into just a couple of bites.  I had to starve myself that whole day to make up for the calorie overload that was to be consumed that night. My roommate and I were at our friends' apartment, hanging out with the men. Who else would come up with such a meal? The apartment smelled strongly of bacon and sweat (yeah super gross). Enough to smother a person the second they walked into the house. Windows were swung wide open to try and freshen up the place, with little success.

                          

   "Is it ready yet?"asked one of he boys. "No! A meal like this takes time," answered the head chef Seth. The meal took hours to cook. My stomach growled at me as I waited for "the beast" to come out of the oven. I could feel myself growing weaker as I stood over the stove top, practically drooling over the sauce. Staying in the kitchen had been a poor idea on my part. I had to leave. I stumbled home fatigued and started on some unfinished homework that was so conveniently due the next morning.
       After a few hours of staring mindlessly at my computer, I finally received a call saying the food was done. I raced over to the apartment not wanting to miss a moment of the epic meal time. After delicately pouring the sauce over the layer of beef, we all dug in! This was it, the next few bites of food would surely bring me to my death. I stared at my "dinner" perturbed by the mound that sat on my plate. How the heck was I supposed to eat this!? It looked as if someone had regurgitated their McDonalds lunch and put it in front of me.

       I gradually picked up my fork, unsure of if I was really going to put myself through this. I cautiously dug into the meat pulling out the smallest piece I could. Everyone around me knew I was a slight health freak and couldn't stand bacon. They sat, eyes fixed on me. I couldn't do it. "Madi! Just do it! Go!" yelled my roommate. In an instant, my fork had taken flight and landed in my mouth. My eyes firmly shut, as if that would help the horrid taste or slimy texture. I quickly masticated the food and swallowed. Gulp! "That's it, I can't eat anymore," I stated. The meatloaf, as we called it, made me want to skip every meal for the next week. After watching my huge Tongan friend scarf down half of the pan in minutes, I felt the need to throw up and take a shower I don't think I have ever felt so disgusting in my life. I turned to my roommate and said "Don't let me do that again."

A Single Drop

This is the story about one of the most horrendous moments in my life. It happened a few years back, when I was around the age of ten.
     It was a "cold" Califonia winter night (temp being around 50 degrees. So not even cold). My parents had decided to go Christmas shopping and had put my twin sister and me in charge of babysitting. It started out as any other night. We all wandered around our house trying to figure out what to do with ourselves. All of us being young, we ended up plopping ourselves down in front of the flat screen TV and started to flip through channels. As we sat there mesmerized, a knife commercial came on.
     The Miracle Blade 3, sharpest knife out there. A large chef with a tall white hat, silly mustache with curls at the ends appeared on the screen accompanied by cheesy upbeat music. This knife could cut through anything! It could even cut through a pineapple in mid-air! The Miracle Blade three could slice and dice in seconds and tear through even the most frozen foods. Conveniently enough, we had those exact knives in our kitchen.
      The night continued on and some of the children grew tired of sitting in front of a screen. One by one we all began to scatter around the house doing our own thing. I was one of the more lazy children and stayed in the living room to relax on the couch. After a matter of time, my brother came darting into the living room shrieking, "I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!" He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and living room grasping his wrist, staring at his hand petrified by the scene. I looked over to him and saw red on his hand. Being skeptical I figured he had just drawn all over his hand with red marker; until I saw a single drop of blood fall to the floor. My heart began to race and my mind went blank. I had no idea what to do. My twin, who happened to be in the room as well, started running around screaming, "call 9-1-1!" My other siblings sat there dumbfounded not sure what was happening (Imagine if you will, the cartoons that show people running around screaming-not helping at all, knocking things over, and little fires spread around the room from the chaos. without the fire of course.) I rushed my brother into the kitchen and grabbed a thick pile of paper towels. We quickly wrapped the towels around the wound and sat over the sink putting pressure on it.
     At that moment, my uncle walked in. He was stopping by to drop off a present for us children. I was relieved to have an adult around to help. "What is this mess? Clean it up before your parents come home," he said completely serious; and walked out the door. Pft! Some help he was. I frantically called my parents and awaited their arrival.
     After about a thousand years, at least that is what it seems like, my parents finally got home and brought my brother to the hospital to get stitches.
   Turns out my brother had been playing with our super sharp Miracle Blade 3s and had slit his thumb open. Yum!

Tomorrow

It's the end of the world as we know it! It's the end of the world as we know it! It's the end of the world as we know it! I feel fine! haha I must say people are crazy and there have been other "prophesies" that the world would end sooner. Look at us, living right on past those days. Heres to tomorrow! See you then!

The End

        Wow, what an incredible semester. Not the best when it comes to getting out of my bubble and talking to new people, but I did get pretty good grades (if I do say so myself).
         My initial goals were to get out of my comfort zone and to talk to knew people. I did well at that....well I guess it just failed miserably at that. I only talked to one knew person without them talking to me first. One day I will learn how to actually make friends and not be so shy.
       For school though, I was a perfect student....ok maybe not perfect BUT! I made comments in class for the first time ( I usually just sit back and listen to others), I studied for my tests and it paid off! The lowest test school I got was an 83! I usually get at least one or two Cs. So that is awesome!
        I learned so much in my classes this semester! I am so excited to use all of the information I was taught. I wasn't quite sure I wanted to be in this major (marriage and family). Especially when people kept telling me I was only at school to get married and take the easy way out. I started to second guess myself and my reasons for choosing this major. After these classes though I realized I am fascinated by families and how to make them happy. I am stoked to be in this major now. And guess what, I am so excited to eventually be a mom and wife. So what!?

Parenting

I have so many strong feelings about parenting. I don't think I could address half of what I think needs to be done. I will say this though:
       As far as my research has shown, Authoritative is the best style of parenting for children. It is being in control of your children and them knowing that you are in charge but at the same tim you still show your child that you respect them and love them. You are not there to just say "no" all of the time. With this type of parenting when you do sat "no" the child understands why and can see your reasoning. You aren't just saying it to show you are in charge. That is Authoritarian style parenting. Children who have authoritative parents have been known to be better behaved and show respect to other people, in the classroom and elsewhere.
   Popkins made a good point when he talked about what we should instill in our children. Those things are:
 Courage
 Cooperation
 Responsibility
 Respect
Growing up I have been taking mental notes of what I want in my children. I never knew the right words to use when describing it though. These are the exact words I was looking for. I think one of the biggest ones for me is respect. I cannot stand it when I see children disrespecting adults or their parents, while the parents standby and let it happen. If children can learn to respect others (and their things), they will be more enjoyable to be around, they will be more trustworthy as well.. I think those things are so important.

Fathers

It is so important to have a father around. The ideal husband/father sets an example to his children, supports his wife, and provides for his family. My dad is such a good example to me. I hope that my husband will treat me the way my dad treats my mom and us children. Sister Julie B. Beck gave a fantastic quote about how fathers impact their daughters. There are so many things he teaches her by the way he acts and how he treats others. This is a paper I wrote about the talk, my father, and what I want in my future family.

“Love Her Mother”

           "The first thing I like in this talk was when Sister Beck said that Fathers need to spend time with their children. It is important that fathers take time to talk to their children and play with them. This lets them know they are loved and gives the father a chance to get to know his children better to know their hopes and dreams. While their dad is at work he does not have all day to be with his children.

            By the way a child’s father treats her mother, she can learn traits of a future husband that she wants and does not want. She can learn respect, loyalty, and tenderness. As a woman tenderness is an essential characteristic to develop.

            By the way her father treats her mother she can learn to never settle for less. She can see what she is worth through the respect her father shows her mother. She can see that she is a daughter of God and deserves someone who will treat her with the same respect.

            The daughter can also learn how important it is to respect womanhood. She can see through his example that woman are not objects and need to be kept clean. Their bodies are sacred and are so important.

            By this respect and love that he shows he gives real examples of loving a daughter of God and teaching them that they have a father in heaven who loves them.

            My father and I have a really strong relationship. My whole life my dad has shown me that I deserve to have someone who is going to respect me and teach my children the gospel. If there were a time that we children disrespected our mother, our father would quickly come into the room and make sure we apologized for what we had done. He had no tolerance for any disrespect.

            My dad has shown me that it is respectable to be an at home mother and to raise my children without working. I used to be embarrassed to say I wanted to be a stay at home mom. Because of my dad I am proud to say I am going to be an at home mom and be with my children and teach them the gospel.

            In my future family I plan to have my husband set-aside time to have “interviews” with my children on a regular basis. In these interviews they can just talk and build a strong relationship. I also plan to have him help me raise and discipline my children. I expect him to be there to read scriptures with us and lead our family home evenings. I want my husband to treat me with the respect that my father shows my mom. One major thing I want is my husband to be able to administer priesthood blessings to my children at the beginning of each school year and whenever they are in need of it. My father did this and it brought me much closer to my father here on earth and in heaven."

                      I am so grateful for my father and all that he has done for me and my family. My mom picked a good one!

                          

            

Communication

I used to think I was really good at communication....that was until I had a friend who was a lot better at it than I was. Whenever there was a tiny disagreement or something just didn't feel right they wanted to talk and call or skype me to make sure they got to the bottoms of things and resolved the problem. A lot of the time it was good. However I think there is too much communication sometimes. There are some things that you just need to let blow over. You don't need to discuss every tiny detail of things.
        One thing I thought was interesting about our discussion was that there used to be communication classes people had to take to make sure they had strong marriages. However the majority of communication is not with words. It is with how you say things and your body language. So when these people took their classes it did nothing to help the marriage. I think it even made some worse. I know if I took a communication course I would probably analyze everything too much and end up making ever more problems because I am not decoding things right. I think there is a fine line between too much communication and just enough. But which is worse? Too much communicating or not enough?