Friday Frivolity

Mostly detatched thoughts...

I really want to go out tonight.  Even the grocery store sounds appealing.

The blisters are healing, but my tongue is swelling =(

Despite the pain I get from eating, I want a nice hot bowl of Italian Chilli.

I think I'm pregnant with a popcorn popper.

I learned how to make a crochet flower.  Thanks Tanya.  It's the little things...I'm super excited.

Kelly Down

I Have a Cold

Complete with blisters on my throat and tongue.  Yuck.  When it comes to being sick, I'm a real Spartan.  All or nothing for me, baby.

What do you eat when you have no appetite and a painful mouth?  Stick-a-butter?  Brownie batter?  Cookie dough?  These are all very soft "foods" I think I cold handle.

Brett will probably shove a popcycle in my mouth, make me chicken soup, and force hoarded antibiotics down my throat.  You'd think he was rasised during the depression the way he hides antibiotics.  It doesn't matter how much I threaten to cut off his toes if he doesn't finish them off, he still does it!  Nor do my protests of "I'm pregnant!  I can't just take anything!" do anything for him.  I mean, afterall, it saves us a copayment at the doctors office.  Nor does it matter that I'm 438% sure it's just a cold.

Plus, he's a man.  That Y chromosome infuses him with an insatiable need to solve problems.  Stupid Y chromosome.  Hey, listen up Mr. Y.  Just pet my head!  Rub my feet!  Do my dishes and fold my laundry, and we'll get along just swell.

Kelly Down

Out Sick

Be back next year.

Kelly Down

PostIt Note Tuesdays

Tune in next Tuesday for more drivel!

Kelly Down

Forgive Me

Holy Blogspot

Please forgive me

It has been three days since my last post

"Tell me child"

I've had a sort of, kind of, a little bit of a crappy weekend.  But since no one wants to hear me complain, let's move on.

"Thank you child"

I read a fabulous book called, "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein.  I wrote a crappy review to share with you, then decided I do enough on this here blog to scare you away, and quickly removed it.  But, if you get a chance to hop over to the ol' Barnes N' Noble, BUY IT!  The man deserves the money.  That good.  Of course, I borrowed my copy.

Can I just share with you how excited I am to have another baby?  Every little kick, every little wiggle.  Aren't babies amazing?  Having a struggle with infertility with our first, knowing that we're on our third makes me want to cry out in joy.  I never thought we'd have two. 

That is all you have to suffer through today, my poor reader.  Repentance is difficult, I know.

Kelly Down

Another Good Reason

Kembry was born three weeks early, and I'm convinced that my brain was not chronologically prepared to have her.

Being the proactive, organized woman I am (insert chuckle) I planned to get my hair cut and colored two weeks before her due date.   

So, instead of being 38 weeks pregnant, I had a one week old baby.  I headed up to get my hair cut and colored.  I sat down, she noticed I was missing my giant belly.  We talked and laughed about the surprise Kembry was.  She asked how cute she was, I showed her pictures.  My head now had enough foil in it to contact E.T., when she asked, "So is your mom watching the baby?"

OH SWEAR WORD!

I left her in the car.

I left my one week old baby in the car.

I left my FIVE AND A HALF POUNDS ONE WEEK OLD BABY IN THE CAR!

Luckily it was a cool, rainy day.  She was fast asleep.  And there were no child service workers in the area to arrest me and throw me in jail.

This is why I am on bed rest.  I can't even imagine what would happen if baby girl came early.  Would I leave her in the hospital?  In the car?  At the grocery store in the ladies bathroom?  At MCDONALDS?!  Will they give her away as a happy meal toy?  Will I have to pick her up at the church lost and found?

I am even more resolved to stay down and behave. 

Kelly Down

Holy Crow in a Hand Basket

I got an award!  And from one of my favorite bloggers, too!!

Here’s the rules…(otherwise, chaos would ensue!)


1. Post the award. Check!

2. Thank and mention the person who gave you the award.

I got this award from Kimberly at All Work and No Play Make Mommy Go Something Something.  One of the funniest, most spirited, honest blogs you could read.  I love her honesty more than anything.  She's an inspiration.  Thank you so much Kim!  I'm flattered to the hilt!
3. Pass the award on to seven blogs who you think embody the spirit of the Kreativ Blogger Award.

Abbie at Nelson Turf (hilarious), Liz at Mables House (beautiful photography), Genderist at Haiku of the Id (great blog name), Tori (a sweet family blog), JMBerrygirl at Becoming Briggs (sweet and funny), Anna at Onnuh, It's How You Say It (an amazing and insightful writer), and Bethany at The Finlinsons (charming and witty).

In all honesty, I wish I could re-award Kim.  She would be top on my list!

4. Name seven things about yourself that others don’t know.

1. I am madly in love with my husband.  Nobody knows this, it's very hush hush.
2. I am my fathers only child.
3. I would love to live out of state, but would miss my family terribly.
4. I'm a sick individual who really enjoys being pregnant.
5. I love getting personal mail, even if it's just a birthday invite. 
6. I despise Romeo and Juliet. 
7. I baby-talk to my cat sometimes.  I am ashamed.

5. Don’t forget to notify your seven bloggers about their award and post a link to their blog.
   
Check and mate!

Thank you again Kim.  Biggest compliment I've gotten in 20 some odd years.

Kelly Down

Feeling Naughty

Around 7:00 this evening, my husband up and decided the kids needed to see, "How to Train Your Dragon".  I agreed completely.  I was sooo freaking excited to take the kids when we saw the previews 100 years ago, and so bummed when I was put on bedrest.  Seriously, a week and a half before the movie came out.  It. Was. Devastating.

So I put on a bra *gasp* and shoes *gasp* and a real shirt *you know what to do*.

Brett stared at me like I had lost my mind.  I think I may agree with him.  But I was determined.  I wanted to see my kids see that movie, and nothin' was gonna stop me.  I'm so naughty.

349 contractions later, we made it to the movie theater, and my husband was still miraculously speaking to me (major backseat driver). 

Oh.  The world.  Outside.  People.  Escalators.  Popcorn.  I was out of the house, in the world and heaven at the same time.

147 contractions later, we were in our seats.

What an AWESOME FREAKING MOVIE!  Brett loved it, which was awesome.  The kids were as adorable as I thought they would be.  Cohen even screamed out loud at a scary part.  I only died 6 times.  Sooooo worth it.

I think I may do this one more time in the coming 4 months (even though there are about 139 movies I want to see).  I think Cheyenne knows what I'm talkin' about. 

Kelly Down

*This evening brought to me by Coca-Cola Classic, nachos, a 30 minute hot bath and a narcotic.
*Mostly the narcotic.

Give the Baby Her Bottle

Sunday night I was less than an inch away from heading over to Labor and Delivery, even if just for some relief from the agonizing pain.  My contractions were hard, and every few minutes, lasting for a minute or more.  Reader, I was looking death in the eye.  If I was in real labor, and in the hospital, it would have been at that point that I would be begging anyone passing my door for an epidural.  Grabbing the nurse by the collar of her (or his) scrubs, offering up my first born children. That bad.

So I popped a narcotic, sat back, and waited for the magic to happen.  I think it helped that I restricted myself wholey and completely to the couch, not even getting up to give Cohen a kiss at bed time.  "Come to me on my death bed son."  He did.  He's a good boy like that.

And while the narcotic eventually did help "take the edge off", which I interpret to mean "drug me up enough that I no longer cared a whole lot about the pain and put me to sleep," I still had to wake up Monday morning to a very sore body, and more painful contractions.

I'm sure they can give me a whole pharmacy of stuff for the pain, but eventually, the reality is, I have to just deal with it for now.  I read a lot about how they get worse as the due date nears (nears is not a term I'm using for me at this point.  20 weeks is only half way freaking there.)  My poor cousin Abbie had to have her husband flush her contraction-stopping-dream pills at the end.  Brave woman.

You know those women who say, "I was in labor for 52 hours!"  I want to shout back at them, "I was in labor for 23 weeks!  Beat that!"  (Calm down Kelly, it's not a competition...)  And most days aren't as bad, as long as I behave.  My body gives me excellent warnings to "Slow down" and "Sit down" and "Down that narcotic" and so on and so forth.  I'm grateful that I get those warnings, that I'm not heading down a dangerous path of pre-term labor and having no clue about it.  I know what's going on, and knowledge is half the battle, or power, or something along those lines.

All in all, having contractions every few minutes all day long just isn't as fun as I had anticipated =)

Kelly Down

An Adulterous Truth

I was exhausted.  I needed a nap.  I needed one bad.

I walked into our bedroom, pulled down the covers of our marriage bed, and to my horror there it was.  How could he?  How could he?

Brett, my husband.  The love of my life.  I know it's been 7 years...what with the itch and all...but this?

I picked up the evidence, holding back tears, fear, anger.  How could he not tell me?  Where was he hiding them from me?  How many were there?  How many were left?  I don't know if I'll get over this.  Our relationship will never be the same.  Ever.

I'll never forget the day I found it. 

The brownie crumb in our bed.

*The previous has been a true story of a pregnant woman on the edge.

*I need a brownie.

Kelly Down

Wha...Where? Huh?

It's been 3 weeks.  Wait, 4?  I've lost track of time...

I saw the sun the other day, and hissed at it.

Is Obama still President?  Why isn't their snow anymore, where did it go?  Do people still drive Toyotas?

Is it August tomorrow? 

Is the moon in it's third phase?

Why does my cat keep licking me?

Kelly...something...mommy?  Down.  That's it!

Kelly Down

Friday Frivolity

JABBERWOCKY

Lewis Carroll

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

 

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought --

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

 

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'

He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

Because I Know You're As Obsessed As Me

Her mouth is open.  Isn't that cute?  I know right.

(Can you tell I have a lot of time on my hands?)

Always Look at the Bright Side of Your Life

It's a lot easier being on bed rest for someone else, than just for yourself. 

I know I'm being blessed with patience and understanding.  I know my husband is, as well, though we're both careful not to go out of our way and pray for patience.  We're smart like that.

Here are some positive things about being on bed rest for my little girl:

• I'm just gonna say it: I don't have to do laundry or clean.  This sounds incredibly selfish, I know.  And I do help fold the laundry.  But I love not having to treck downstairs, carry it back up, hang it up, etc. 
• I get to feel every little wiggle and kick.  Right now, in the calm of the second trimester, this is sweet.  When I was up and about with the other two, I'm sure I missed a lot of these.
• I get to write thank you notes, and take my time.  I feel the love of the person I'm writing to.  I feel the gratitude swell within me, and I'm so grateful for that!
• I get to visit a lot.  I used to not really enjoy visiting, because of all the "other things" I had to do.  But now, I don't have them to do.  I've gotten to know a lot of really wonderful people a lot better.
• Movies, books, movies, books.  My favorite thing to do, when I can, is read.  I have tons of time to read now.  Plus, I'm a chronic movie watcher.  I like to watch the same movie over, and over, and over...
• Even though it would seem like time would go slow, it doesn't.  My day is broken up into routine, with surprise visits here and there.  I know it's only been a few weeks, and I possibly have 130+ days to go, but so far time as flown!
• I have the internet, therefore I have unlimited access to distraction.
• When she comes, it will be a hundred times more sweet!  I'll be relased!

I'm trying hard not to think about the things I'm missing, and remind myself constantly that "This too shall pass."  I know it will.  There will be other summers to enjoy with my kids (which will then equal 3!) and lots of time to go to the zoo after the baby is born.  I'm sure I can lay outside in a lounge chair and watch them play, even if I can't join in.  And I'm positive there will be plenty of dishes for me to wash when it's all over.

Plus, PLUS, and this will sound silly, but I don't think I'll mind spending my birthday at home, possibly in bed.  Lemme esplain.  My birthday is on the 4th of July, and it is always crazy and hectic.  The only thing I'll miss is breakfast with my whole family.  Other than that, I hope I get to keep my husband and kids around me the whole day.

Kelly Down

Perspective

"Sometimes grown (women) like to wear a-stretchy pants, yest for fun."
-Nacho Libre

So, my belly is burgeoning.  I guess that's to be expected, I'm half way there in a few days.  I was starting to feel big, like, "Oh yeah, I remember now what it was like to be pregnant, and look pregnant."

Then I went to my OBGYN's office, and 5 any-day-now women walked in.  WHOA!  Crap!  It does get that big, doesn't it?  Yikes.  I feel itty-bitty, teeny-tiny. 

How do we do it?  How does the skin on our stomach stretch to accomidate these ginormous blood suckers?

We rock!

For Your Viewing Enjoyment

I think she looks just like me =)

I also think she looks like she's wearing sun glasses and a fake mustache.

Woo Hoo

The good news!  I'm full to the brim with amniotic fluid, and my cervix hasn't thinned, or shortened, or whatever it is I don't want it to do before 37 weeks.  And, I had contractions during the ultrasound, so now I know I'm not crazy.  To a degree.

So, now I only  have to be on bed rest for 10-12 hours a day, which is better than 16-18 hours a day, which is what I've been having to do!  Woo hoo!  This with a warning, "Kembry was born 3 weeks early, you don't want this one to be born 6 weeks early, do you?"  Man, my OB's good with guilt.

And I haven't had a contraction for...nevermind.  I always speak too soon.

Yay for little girls and being allowed to move around a bit more and long cervix's...or whatever. 

Kelly Down and Out

Kembry Always Gets Her Way

Oh Yeah, I Forgot

Will the tide go in favor of the estrogen, or will testosterone get the extra help?  Tune in and find out, this afternoon!

ADFD

Attention Deficit Freaking Disorder

This is not a real medical disease.  However, we claim it for our son.  Perhaps we should call it 4-year-old-ism.  Perhaps we could just call it Cohen.

One of manifesting symptoms is an actual language.  Cohenese.  I'm pretty sure it'll be published in a medical journal, soon.

Another is a distinct inability to put on shoes within a 20 minute time frame.  The kid could be in a rubber room, with zero distractions, and still manage to take forever.

The 30 minute pee-pee dance and the I-refuse-to-go-while-I'm-playing-which-is-all-the-time attitude is yet another.

I blame the video games and the fact that this disorder is almost certainly a genetic disease, inherited on the Y chromosome. 

Kelly Down

Friday Frivolity

It Should Be Illegal...

Once hilarious actors in ridiculously stupid commercials:

Laundry, but of course:

And last but not least, an angry uterus:

(Haha, I love this drawing.  Laughed for minutes.  Peed my pants.  TMI?  Yes.)

Kelly Down

Gotta Love...

The sound of kids playing outside.  Plastic wheels grinding on the sidewalk.  Parents calling them in for dinner.  The Icecream man.  Sunlight across the room at 7 in the evening.  Fresh cut grass.  Moist dirt.

Mmmm, is it finally Spring?

Uterus Monologues

What is this?  What is this?  Do I look like the Ritz?  Do you see blinds in this place?  Who are you and what are you doing here?  No, no!  Don't kick me anymore, I'm trying to talk to you.

Look, you showed up awhile ago, all small and insignificant, and I thought "Huh, that looks familiar."  I should've listened to that sinking feeling that I've been here before.  With a similar looking thing.

And then it started.  You started.  To grow.  And grow.  And grow.  And I'm plain sick of it.  Now you're wriggling around and kicking and squirming, and I can't get anything done and you're just not taking the hints.  I'm contracting because I don't want you here.

Don't suck your thumb.  I know you think it's cute, but it's not.  The other two did it, too.  Oooh, if only I'd known then it was this contracting business that would get them out.  But I'm wise now, oh yessiree, wise and angry.  And this is my place.  You stretch me out anymore and old Mother Dear is gonna feel the wrath.

Uterus Out

Grumpy-grumperton

I declare a FEEL SORRY FOR YOURSELF DAY!

(Hey, if Cafe Rio gets one, so do we.)

(Please read the following in the whiniest voice you have stored away.)

I wanna go outside.
I wanna go shopping.
I wanna go to the Olive Garden.
I wanna clean my house (seriously).
I wanna take a shower, not a bath.
I wanna drive.
I wanna play.
I wanna million bucks.

I already feel better.  Awww, that was cathartic (hehe).

Kelly Out

Non-Hint Droppers Anonymous

"Hey, hon, are you thirsty?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Hmm, you sure?  You just sorta cleared your throat, like maybe you needed something to drink."

"Um...do you want something to drink?"

"Well, I mean, if you're getting up for yourself..."

******************************************************************************

My husband and I were raised in very different families.  I guess that goes without saying.  He has 3 siblings, I have a half sister that's 8 years older than me.  He's the oldest, I'm my dads only child.  His parents are still married.  My parents are married, just not to each other.  His mom was a hint dropper, whereas I am...not.

Hint dropping cracks me up.  I had never even heard of it until I married a Neff.  Apparently, it's a real disease.  It infects you until pretty soon you find yourself manifesting symptoms of hint dropping.  "Are you cold?" (Because I am.  Turn up the heat.)  "Doesn't a popcycle sound good?"  (Because it does to me.  Get me one.)  "Are you really enjoying this movie?"  (Because I'm not.  Turn it off.)

Somehow I've been vaccinated.  I am pure and clean.  But I'm suddenly wishing someone would inoculate me with this strange disease.

I'm starting to feel bad.  "Hon, change the laundry please.  Wash the kids, please.  Pick up the living room, please.  Get me some milk, please."  I feel like the task-master queen of Neffdom.  My poor husband never says a word, never complains, even as his toosh is just meeting the soft couch cushion, he'll hop up and perform whatever Her Majesty requires.

But maybe he'd be more comfortable thinking it was his idea to get me that glass of milk.  To vacuum up that cat-hair tumbleweed.  To mop the floor.  To be a short-order cook. 

Didn't they write books on this in the 50's?  Didn't women head off to Wellesley to learn this very technique?  Are they still teaching it?  Isn't there some way I can learn to be like Lucy and make Ricky think it was all his idea to go to Dairy Queen at 10:45 at night?

How can I hint to you all for advice, without actually asking for it? 

Kelly Out

Shhh, It Might Hear You

I've learned much about my uterus in the past few weeks.

Unfortunately, so have you.  Poor reader.

Its best if I don't talk about, think about, talk to, wink at, or grumble towards or about my uterus.  Men, you think you're wives are touchy?  Hang out with my uterus and we'll see just how touchy they are.

So be very quiet.  It might hear you, and I may go into actual labor. 

And I'm learning that there is such a thing as "optimistic to a fault".  Or, "speaking too soon".  Or, "where's the wood I should be knocking on?" after every person questioning "How are you feeling?"

I am not a superstitious woman, but I'm afraid the following words/sentences are now sticken from my vocabulary for the duration of gestation: "I'm fine.  Doing great.  Haven't had a contraction in awhile."

My mother-in-law, bless her blue colored soul, said "I wish I was on bedrest, having someone wait on me hand and foot."  Sometimes I'm so grateful you can't hurt someone via Facebook Chat.

But I have the most amazing women in my life.  I haven't gone a day without a visitor and treats.  Seeing as how I have had limited to no appetite (constant pain is funny that way) my starving children and snacky husband have really appreciated this.  And I've appreciated all the people who come and sit on my couch or stand in my doorway and remind me there is an outside world with people I used to know...I'm being a little dramatic, yes?  Yes.

Moving on.  Thank you Jesse, Karen, Laura, Caileen, Muy (and subsequently, Adam) and my entire step-family for being so caring and kind.  For being concerned for my well being.  For asking how I'm doing.  For bringing me books and cupcakes and salsa and chips and dinner and book lights and candy and spiritual thoughts and friendship and love.  Shalae, for offering to watch the spawn.  For Marilyn and mom for spoiling the spawn.  For dad and Sandi for letting the spawn sleep in your house and therefore feel some sense of normalcy.  For the spawn, kissing my belly and telling me it'll be alright.

I think you all know how I feel about the hubbin.  He's amazing.  He's beyond praise at this point.  Brett, if you're reading this, can I have another glass of milk?  I love you.

Kelly Out

(P.S.  And thank you for your comments.  You're my only link to the outside world.  Too dramatic again?)

Lubbin' My Hubbin'

My husband handed me a stack of blueberry pancakes today with the comment, "I'm not a short order cook, so they're crispy critters."

They were, of course, delicious.

He made the kids german pancakes, and me blueberry pancakes.  I don't deserve this man, but he hasn't cottoned on yet, so shhhh.

Kelly Out

Learning Something New Everyday

I took a risk and left the house today to go to our family Easter party.  I needed contact with the outside world, and of course, have suffered severely. 

I learned something new about myself, however.  While it was fine for my kids, husband, dad and step-mom to watch me suffering, I did not like it one bit when the rest of the fam showed up.  In fact, it stressed me out majorly anytime I would have a contraction. 

I learned that I don't like people seeing me vulnerable.  What a strange problem to have.  If they asked me how I'm feeling (in the hushed tones as if speaking to a person with one foot in the grave, which is what I probably looked like anyway) I would just lie and say, "Great!"  In retrospect, I suppose it's like having your whole family in the delivery room, while you go without an epidural.  Not fun.

So I'm back at home, nursing my new agoraphobia by myself while my husband continues the rest of the Easter Holiday rounds.  Have I mentioned how much I love him?

I'm in a precarious position.  My contractions are getting more painful, and lasting longer, but are still coming randomly.  Sometimes only minutes apart, sometimes hours.  And though my hope is that they'll still taper off by the end of this week, thus making my doctors appointment a short and pleasant one, I have a strong feeling they're here to visit for awhile.  Just like relatives in the south.  "I only invited you for Sunday dinner!  Hit the road!"

Kelly Out

(Happy Easter, btw.  What a fabulous holiday.  And how blessed are we to have Conference fall on this day?  So spiritual and peaceful.  I've had a much needed dose of the love of the Savior.)

Angry Uterus Update

Apparently angry uterus is a family affair.  Genetic?  Mmm, I don't really think so.  But my dear cousin Abbie (real person, real name) kindly informed me via Facebook that she suffered from the same thing.  Her docs diagnosis: bed rest, and some drug I don't know the name of to stop the contractions.

They can do that?! 

My list of questions grows for my doctor.  I hope he schedueled a long block for me.  Either way, I'm getting my money's worth.

My good friend Dr. Google has been less than helpful.  Either not very many women suffer from this (unlikely) or Dr. Google has failed me for the last time.

On the plus side, after two hours of regularly schedueled contractions last night, everything has quieted down.  They're still coming, I'm all too painfully aware of them, but they're just as sporadic as ever.

What prompted these regular contractions, you may ask?  I actually have an answer.  I bathed.  I risked clean hair and shaved legs, and suffered the consequences.  I still say it was worth it.  So do my children and husband, and possibly neighbors.  I'm not sure how far the stench wafted.

Kelly Out

Listening to Promptings

This post IS NOT about me, seeing as how I am the worst at listening to the Spirit.

Last night, my husband decided to clean the house.  Have I mentioned in the last 8 seconds how much I love my husband?  No?  Well, I LOVE my husband.

After he cleaned it, we had a knock on the door.  It was the Relief Society President. And one always wants a clean house when the Relief Society President stops by. She was simply "dropping off your new visiting teaching assignment".  "Sorry I can't get up," I said weakly, "I'm crippled."

Well, she spent the next half an hour making me feel a million times better.  Of course she did, she's amazing.  She left.  20 minutes later, my very own personal visiting teacher came over.  Can I just tell you, this woman listens to the Spirit like no one else I've ever met.

"Just came over.  Had a feeling I needed to see you."  Please keep in mind, readers, it was nigh on 9 o'clock at night.  My VT has enough on her plate of life, having a mother who was near death, and who she now needs to be with to take care of.  But she was here, in my living room, with a sweet little gift, just because she had a "feeling" she needed to see me.  Amazing. 

She comforted me, visited with me, left our home with a small peice of her sweet, amazing, powerful spirit.  What a wonderful night.  What wonderful people.  What a wonderful Gospel.  The Lord felt my need last night, and sent His valiant servants.  It wouldn't have worked if they hadn't  listened.  But they did.

D&C 46:7 ...and that which the Spirit testifies unto you even so I would that ye should do in all holiness of heart...

Kelly Out