The Barf Song - "Let It Blow"

I know I have a strange sense of humor and this might prove it.  Two of my boys had the flu last week so I wrote this parody to describe my experience.

This should be sung to the tune of "Let It Go" from Frozen (click here to hear the original song)

Let It Blow (a flu inspired song)

The barf blows right in the toilet tonight
Not a wink of sleep is seen
A sickness of isolation,
And it’s smelling quite obscene.

Tummy is growling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows you tried

Don’t let them in, don’t let them see
Be the good mom I always have to be
Clean well, don’t smell, run to and fro
Oh this just blows

Let it go, let it go

You can’t hold it back anymore
Let it blow, let it blow
Hit the bowl and not the floor

I don’t care
I want my boy okay
Let the flu be gone,
Your barf never bothered me anyway

It’s funny how some sickness
Makes everything seem small

And the illness that controls you
Won’t last that long at all

It’s time to see what I can do
To get you better from this flu
No snacks, no drink, no food for thee
Empty!

Let it go, let it go
My poor baby’s up all night
Let it blow, let it blow
I just want you to feel all right

Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the flu be gone

Your vomit’s spewing from your mouth onto the ground
Your stomach’s spiraling in messy upchuck all around
And one thought originates like a barfy blast
We’re never going back,
This blast is in the past

Let it go, let it go
And we'll rise at the break of dawn
Let it blow, let it blow
Will this keep going on

Here I stand
In the light of day
Let the flu be gone,
Your barf never bothered me anyway

Talk - Our Own Personal 9/11 Experiences - "Face the Future with Faith"

When I realized that we’d be speaking on 9/11, at first I felt a little worried. But upon reflection, I saw how perfectly it related to our assigned topic.

I still remember that fateful Tuesday, September 11, 2001 when we first learned about the terrorist attacks. We lived in Northern California and our oldest child, Zach, was in kindergarten. Our alarm clock went off, in radio mode, and as I half consciously went to hit snooze, I heard something about a plane hitting the WTC. I jolted up in bed and turned on the TV. I called my parents and said, “Turn on the news.” My dad asked me what channel and I replied, “Any channel.” My heart sank even further as we learned more and more details about the tragedy and saw the second plane hit. At the time, Thane commuted to work in San Francisco on the BART public transit system, but he stayed home that day because we were afraid the bustling city of San Francisco could be a terrorist target too. When we took Zach to school, all us kindergarten parents stood around and talked about the horror of this event. We were all scared of what might come next. We were in mourning for all those who were suffering, dying, or losing loved ones. We were bound by a collective grief and fear. But I remember the unity I felt with my family, friends, neighbors, and fellow Americans.

As I was preparing for this talk, a realization came to me. Every one of us have “9/11 experiences” in our own lives. Some of us may have health challenges. Some deal with wayward children. Others deal with divorce, death, unemployment, addictions. The point is, we all have challenges.

When dealing with these personal 9/11 experiences, there is a difference from the day the world stood still for all of us together as we faced a common tragedy. In our personal 9/11 moments, we may feel very alone in our fear and sadness, we may feel embarrassed, abandoned, downtrodden, worried, and scared.

Every Illness Has a Life-affirming Lesson

“Every illness has a life-affirming lesson to teach us if we are willing to be taught.”

Top 10 lessons I learned from my Vertigo:

10) I choose to give service, but I don’t get to choose to be served. It is important to be able to receive graciously (not my strong point).

9) Be grateful to be able to drive and for the freedom I have to just jump in the car and go places. Also, be grateful to friends who will drive when you can’t!

8) If I don’t slow down on my own, the Lord will do it for me. (Don’t run faster than you have strength).

7) There is nothing worth watching on TV during the day.

6) Use my hand to hold the phone when I talk, not my neck & shoulder.

5) Drink lots of water (still a challenge for me).

4) Be grateful for the ability to do laundry, wash the dishes, vacuum, pick up toys, make lunches, cook, mop, clean bathrooms, tie shoelaces, make beds, etc.

3) I am blessed with a wonderful network of friends who have compassion and generous hearts. They also know how to cook better than I do (ask my kids!).

2) My children do actually possess the ability to be quiet, helpful, obedient and considerate when necessary (who knew it?).

1) Heavenly Father knows what I need and provides challenges for me to learn and grow. I will look at every situation and ask “What am I supposed to learn from this experience?” That’s why we’re all here.

In Memory of Abby

This is a beautiful poem written by my friend Jennifer. Her precious little Abby returned to live with Heavenly Father a few months after she wrote this poem. Abby was born a few months before Jonah and she passed away on her second Thanksgiving day. Every Thanksgiving Day I look at my sweet little Jonah and think of Abby and how big she would have been had she lived. My heart aches when I think of her sudden sickness and death, but I know that she will someday be reunited with her family. Abby's parents (and grandparents) are some of the spiritually strongest people I have met and their testimonies of the Savior and His Atonement are stronger than ever. This poem was included on her funeral program. I think most mothers will relate to the tender feelings during moments alone with our babies and how quickly the time passes.

For Abby
September 29, 2003
Tonight I rocked and held you close,
My precious little daughter,
Unwilling to let go this day,
Of baby loves and infant ways,
I pressed your cheek against my face
As smooth as clay to potter.
Tonight our breath was sweet and slow,
My sweetest little angel,
Mine fell low and yours fell light -
Music in the gentle night,
Up and down and eyes shut tight
As rhythmic as if rain fell.
Tonight I wished for nothing else
My darling dearest child,
Than that which I held close to me -
Your cuddly warmth in slumber deep,
This happy hour when clock hands sleep,
Our mother-daughter reverie
As we our heaven styled.
Jennifer Ferre