Sometimes blogs are good. Other times they are not.

Like that last post, I realized that when I keep secrets like that and do not journalize them or write them out or message or email or text them, they're stagnant. Like the times where I have fleeting crushes on other guys. Or when I wonder about my exes. Or when I bash my husband. They just get out of hand, and make the small situation worse. So, I'll try to resolve not to do that anymore.

I had a great Christmas. I think I will have a good New Years. But I have a perfect life.

Who else can say that they feel like the perfect family, with the hot mom and dad raising beautiful cute children who are well behaved in public, with the boy, girl, and baby? I don't have to worry about finances. I mean, I still save like scrooge and find deals everywhere, but if I want to buy myself something, I don't have to think, "hm, can I afford it this month?" I'm not a big spender anyway so it's more like, "should I cut my hair this Fall or wait until Spring?" I own my own house. I decorate it the way I like. I drive the classic minivan. I don't know of many who don't like me-but when I come across those people, we don't interact very much. My family is AWESOME. My friends are loyal. My health is great. And I love my calling!
  (I feel like singing Jann Arden's "Good Mother" now. I've touched on all the points she sings about!)

I was thinking about Rachel last week or so, and how she is such an angel baby. If you could ask to take care of a baby, she'd be the one you'd ask for. She hardly cries, is super predictable on what she needs, is quietly observant, gets her rest all night, and smiles to make my heart melt. Upon reading an article from a past Ensign about a baby dying early in infancy, she quoted Joseph Smith on how those children were just too pure, too perfect for this world. I thought about my own life, and how I was given a perfect child that never made it into this realm. And Rachel is the baby after that, but how perfect I think she is right now. My heart just bursts with joy!

I love my firstborn because he's my first child. I love my second because she's my first girl. And I love my third because she's my first baby after a miscarriage.