My New Friend Who is Not Really My Friend and is Actually Welcome to Leave At Any Time

A person might assume that another person, such as I, faced with more free time than I've had in the last 17 years, would be blogging more than in the past, but apparently, that person would be wrong. Since Emmeline started school in August, things have been. . . interesting.

I have done great at my goal of attending the temple weekly, achieving an average of one visit per week.  That addition to my life has brought me more joy than I ever could have imagined.  I love the temple! And reading the Book of Mormon every day has been peaceful and enlightening.

But, let's go backwards a little bit before we get to now.  Last Spring my awesome PTA board member friends were looking for some people to step up for this year's board.  I had my pick of President Elect or Secretary, or some other big and fun and wonderful PTA job. While stressful, I truly enjoyed my two years as Treasurer and I cherish the friendships I made. But, when I thought and prayed about taking a position for this school year, I felt what we Mormons call a "stupor of thought".  Rather than feeling a sense of peace or excitement about making this commitment, I felt restrained and a mental emptiness, a gentle impression that I was not meant to be on the board this school year.  I repeatedly felt the distinct impression that "something" was coming into my life that would prevent me from being able to continue serving at such an intense level at the PTA.   I remember telling my friend Kathy "I just hope that whatever is coming is something good!"

It wasn't.

Dang it.

School started. Everything was great for a little while.

Then, with no warning, I got a new house guest.  Her name is Anxiety.  She's kind of a bully and I don't like her very much.  Luckily, she's not always here.  She's very unpredictable that way. I guess Anxiety, like living and breathing house guests, affects people in different ways. For me, I feel worried about nothing at all, I feel tense, I feel like maybe hyperventilating would be good, and I feel this tight squeezing in my chest. Sometimes Anxiety invites her cousin Depression to join the partay!

About 6 weeks after Anxiety moved in, something went wrong with the progress I've been making with my leg healing.  I tore my calf in February of last year.  It was up and down but I was definitely up at the time and had finally made it up to running a mile.  I was one week away from being ready to try Spinning class again, when my foot started to hurt a lot - on my birthday. Rude. Then my calf muscle tightened up in this crazy death grip and it just went downhill from there.  To make a long and not yet finished story much shorter, I have nearly constant pain in my foot, calf, and hip.  I had to stop running and most walking.  I'm going to water aerobics and trying to manage the pain with a metal croquet ball( hip), golf ball, (foot) and my new buddy the lacrosse ball( calf).  I've tried motrin, heat packs, muscle rubs, electrical massage machine, stopping all activity, switching to soft inserts rather than my custom orthotics, a trip to the doctor and oodles of stretching.  It's been 3 months now.  I wonder if this pain might be a permanent resident.  This is making Anxiety stay at my house even more.  She's really attracted to stress.

On Friday, I'm going to the doctor again.  I'll be asking for a referral to a podiatrist, a referral to another sport's medicine doctor (cause this guy has seen me three times and wants a second opinion), and possibly asking to start the process again to get an MRI scheduled to check for nerve impingement.  The good news about that is that if I meet my max out of  pocket in January, I have 11 months of free medical left this year! I'm not sure what's going to happen.  I'm not sure if I'm ever going to get completely better.  But, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to find out what is wrong with me.

So, that's depressing.  It's been really really hard to keep my chin up,and sometimes I'm not keeping it up; instead, I'm laying on my bed in the fetal position and bawling.

And it's hard to be nice when you're in pain all the time.  To all the people in chronic pain who are still nice- I THINK YOU ARE FREAKING AMAZING!  I'm trying to learn to be like you.

Okay, now fast forward to now.  I guess what I'm saying is that I'm human.  I'm struggling and I'm going through some especially stinky trials right now.  For months I have wavered back and forth on whether or not to share this, but in the end, I think sharing it is the right thing to do.

I'm going to be okay.  I don't know when and I don't know how and I don't know what okay is going to look like, I just know that I'm not giving up until I get there.

I'm not sharing this trial with anyone and everyone who decides to read it merely in hopes of going viral. ( this is a good place to insert maniacal laughter, because that is just funny.  I'll never go viral) I'm not sharing because I want something out of anyone.  And I'm not reaching out for pity, although sometimes compassion feels good.

I'm sharing because that is what I do. I write. I share.  I hope that my blog entries make you laugh, make you cry, make you think, and help you feel God's love for you.

In spite of the last four months being crazy hard with no end in site, God has not left me alone to deal with these things.  He has sent me comfort in the form of family and friends and the Holy Ghost speaking to my heart, especially while I am studying the Book of Mormon.

  I am not going to let Anxiety or injury win.  I'm holding fast to my faith, even in the moments where I'm shaking with fear and/or sadness, my faith is what helps me wipe away the tears, take a deep breath, and go cook dinner or help my little girl with her homework.

And even while I desperately hope that there is something easier ahead, it's the warm little hand of that sweet young daughter holding my hand and trusting me to keep her safe, that propels my own legs forward.  Despite the discomfort, she is worth it.  All six of my kids are worth it individually. Getting to be their Mom is worth the trials of the past, present, and future.

I have a quote on my wall that my littlest girl (5) can now read.

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass . . It's about learning to dance in the rain" -Vivion Greene

So, take that trials! My dance might be one legged and funny looking, but I'm still dancing.

The Storage Unit Christmas

When my husband was almost done with law school, I was pregnant with our third child, due to deliver the week before graduation.  With no job prospects as of yet, we decided to move back to Utah to be near our family.  But, because of my due date, I needed to come back early. So, in March of 2003, I came to Utah with Reuben (4) and Tim (2) and moved into two bedrooms in my parents' basement. Judd drove our belongings out in a U-haul and we put most of our possessions into storage.  He then went back to Baltimore to finish law school.  Two months later he finished classes and flew out to Utah. I went into labor the next day and had the baby ( Amy) and he left a few days later to go back and graduate.  We then settled into living with my generous parents while Judd studied for and took the Bar exam, and then started a private practice.

Fast forward nearly two years to December of 2004.  We decided it was time to go out on our own.  We had very little money.  Starting a business is rocky and it takes a while to earn enough to make ends meet.  But, we found a great basement for rent in Holladay. It was only $650 a month and included the utilities.   It didn't have a dishwasher, we couldn't fit a couch down the stairs or a queen size box springs, and my piano would never navigate that narrow passage;  but the price was right and it was fairly large at 1600 sq feet.  It was perfect for our family!

The only problem was that we were practically penniless.  Putting down a deposit on our apartment and paying to have our piano moved out of storage and into our friends' house took a toll on our bank account.

We couldn't afford Christmas.

But, it didn't matter because we developed a plan, a delightful and slightly devious frugaliscious plan.  Our children had not seen the majority of their toys for the last two years. Our youngest had never seen any of them!  We wrapped up the Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, and Matchbox cars, and all of the other toys that had been lonely for so long, and placed them lovingly under the Christmas tree. On Christmas morning, our excited children ripped open the paper with glee and squealed over each new toy. They had no idea these were their old toys coming back to them.  The closest they came to finding us out was Reuben saying, "I used to have one of these!"

It was the best Christmas ever!

Just this evening, after coming home from a special family gathering to visit Uncle Ronald  and bring him some Christmas cheer, I mentioned that long ago Christmas to my boys, now 17 and 15.

"What?"  Tim said." You gave us our old presents?"

" I never could figure out why I got so many Tinker Toys, but I didn't really have that many" replied Reuben.

We all laughed together.  I had no idea the boys NEVER figured out what we had done.

 

Zucchini Pancakes

I'm all about feeding my kids vegetables.  But, I'm not really into hiding them in their food to trick them into eating them.  While that will help them to get some much needed nutrition, hiding the healthy food fails to teach children good eating habits. So, when I "hide" something in the food in an effort to increase nutrition or use something up, I tell my kids.  I might peel something to make it more visually appealing, but I don't lie to them about what is in the food.

This is important part about the magic muffins ( see my muffin post) at our house.  I can put just about ANYTHING in these muffins, and my kids will eat them.  They LIKE finding out what is in them.  AND THEY EAT THEM!

That's because they taste good.

Vegetables taste good.  They really taste good when you mix them with sugar, eggs, flour, etc. . .

So, after such amazing success at getting my kids to eat all kinds of fruits and vegetables in muffin form, I decided to go really brave with pancakes.  I have put zucchini in pancakes before, but this time, I went wild.

I replaced all of the milk with pureed zucchini.

Yes, I really did.  I took photos to prove it.

My kids loved them!

That's because they were delicious.  I don't mean to brag or anything, but I just know that somebody reading this needs a little push over to the dark green and leafy side.  Make something with "hidden" veggies in it, but tell your kids.  It's fun and it teaches them two important lessons.

1. They can trust Mom cause she tells them what's in the food and doesn't try to trick them into eating things.
2. Vegetables taste good in sweets.

Okay, well that's the blog for this week.  Have a fantastic day and make sure to load yourself up on veggies today!

Spiritual Twinkies

Yesterday my stake had a special stake conference, presided over by a member of the quorum of the seventy, Elder Michael T Ringwood. The day before, President Stewart, our stake president attended a training meeting and was taught by Elder Ringwood, Elder Holland, Elder Renlund, and others.   He shared with us some of the things he learned, and I would like to pass on the lesson of the spiritual Twinkies. I think he said this was taught by Elder Renlund.

Elder Renlund asked for some volunteers to come up and eat a pastry.  President Stewart eagerly volunteered and was selected to come up and receive a Twinkie.  After eating it, he was asked," What percent of the daily recommendation of fiber, vitamin c, and vitamin d can be found in that Twinkie?"

This is what Twinkies do to you

Of course, the answer was none.  Twinkies have no nutritional value beyond empty calories.  

Just as Twinkies offer no nutrition for our bodies, the philosophies of men mixed with some poems and a few quotes are akin to a theological Twinkie. They consist of spiritually empty calories.

Spiritual Twinkies, if they are part of our diet, need to be substituted with the substance of the Gospel.

In our homes and in our teaching responsibilities within the church, do we use spiritual Twinkies rather than relying on the substance of pure doctrine?  Do we rely on cute soundbites and clever memes to try and teach lessons, or do we boldly teach from the lesson manuals, scriptures, and conference talks?  

In order to have the strength we need to survive spiritually in this world, we cannot be offering spiritually empty pastries to our children. They need the substance of true doctrine and principles to strengthen and sustain them.

I loved this analogy and I think it's a great concept to ponder. President Stewart asked us if the words of God's mouthpiece are the most prominent in our lives?  Do we study the words of the prophets?  Do we follow them?  Or are we too "busy" choosing other ways to fill up our time?

So, my challenge today to myself and to anyone who reads this is :

Put down the Twinkie.  Not only are the lacking in nutrition, but they are really gross!
Pick up the scriptures. The longer you study them, the more you will feel like you've been drinking pure goodness, and it won't even make you fat!

Scratch and Sniff Stickers and Pride

Yesterday I had the opportunity to teach Relief Society at church. This is the class held during the 3rd hour of church for adult women.  One of my callings right now is to teach every other month.  We teach lessons compiled from teachings of past prophets. This year we are studying the teachings of Ezra Taft Benson.  He is well known for his teachings about pride and this was the subject for the lesson yesterday.

Pride is enmity toward God or our fellowmen.  It is hatred and opposition.  Pride takes on many forms.

"Pride is essentially competitive in nature.  We pit our will against God’s.  When we direct our pride toward God, it is in the spirit of “my will and not thine be done.”  

“Our enmity toward God takes on many labels, such as rebellion, hard-heartedness, stiff-neckedness, unrepentant, puffed up, easily offended, and sign seekers.  The proud wish God would agree with them.  They aren’t interested in changing their opinions to agree with God’s.  

Another major portion of this very prevalent sin is enmity toward our fellowmen. We are tempted daily to elevate ourselves above others and diminish them" -Ezra Taft Benson

It is this last form of pride- elevating ourselves above others, that I want to write about today. I shared this story in my lesson, but I want to share it with cyberspace too. It is my story of the scratch and sniff stickers and certificates.

When I was in 3rd grade we received grades every 6 weeks. There were 6 grading periods each year. My teacher, Susan Huntley, held an awards ceremony in our classroom at the end of each 6 week period. Children received certificates for outstanding behavior, perfect attendance, and achieving the highest grade in individual subjects. Unless there was a tie, only one child would get a certificate for each subject. They were Health, Science, Social Studies, Language, Reading, and Math. The most fantastic thing about these certificates was that they often came complete with a scratch and sniff sticker! Oh, how we children in Ms. Huntley's third grade class of 1986-1987 loved scratch and sniff stickers! We had many opportunities to earn the stickers during the year, but of course, these certificates were the ultimate goal for all of the brainy competitive children.

I was a smart child, and also one of the oldest in my class, being born in October. School was easy for me, and so I started to bring home a lot of these coveted certificates.

I felt pretty special.

Partway through the year, I sat in an awards ceremony, antsy on the rug, as my teacher called out the recipients. I received a certificate right at the beginning, and sat eagerly awaiting the rest. Yes, I EXPECTED to get multiple certificates, because that is what had been happening. I grew more and more anxious, annoyed even, as the teacher called OTHER children up to receive awards that I thought should be mine- at least some of them!

At long last, I heard my name called. But, instead of going up and graciously receiving my certificate, I let loose the word that I was thinking.

"FINALLY!"I exclaimed in a long drawn out annoyed little 9 year old raspy voice.

"Becky!" The teacher expressed her disappointment in me. I sheepishly took my certificate and sat down.

This stickers still smells amazing after 30 years!

And, in that one moment, I saw myself for who I was at the time.

And I was so ashamed.

I have never forgotten that moment. I have never forgotten that feeling of realizing that I was putting myself above my fellow students. I was so focused on earning my "deserved" awards, that I never stopped to think about how the other children might be feeling. I never thought about the ones that never earned any of the awards. I never thought about the ones that had fantastic grades, but not high enough to beat me or the other kids who usually took home these certificates. I never thought that while Peter Carlseen and I battled it out for highest Math grade (I only got it once) that there might have been another kid excelling at Math who also really hoped for that honor.

No, I had never thought any of those things because I was far too busy thinking about ME. 

I took home about half of the certificates given out that year. But, what I took home that day meant more to me than my whole book of scratch and sniff stickers. I took home the lesson that wanting to be better or even expecting to be better than other people isn't God's way, and it wasn't His plan for me.

His way is to "choose to humble ourselves by conquering enmity toward our brothers and sisters, esteeming them as ourselves, and lifting them as high or higher than we are." -Ezra Taft Benson

My accidental lesson at that tender age, has stayed with me for nearly 30 years now. It may well have been the impetus for my choice to major in elementary education, and to pursue teaching opportunities whenever they arise. I love to teach other people what I know how to do- whether it is baking bread, playing the piano, embroidery, or an academic subject. I love to see the lights go on in a child's eyes when the information makes sense! I love to lift others up and even watch them ascend higher than I am capable of going at the time. The greatest happiness I can imagine would be seeing my children achieve more than I have achieved- seeing them be more faithful disciples of Christ, more successful in every way. Then, I would know that I had done my work as their mother.

"Thee lift me, and I'll lift thee, and we'll ascend together" -Quaker Proverb

Family Home Evening/Scripture Journals

   

I believe in Family Home Evening and daily scripture study.  Even though my kids can sometimes behave like wildabeasts, I still have a strong testimony of the importance of both studying the scriptures as a family and spending time one evening a week learning the gospel and enjoying being together.
     Traditionally, FHE is held on a Monday evening.  We set aside this time and make every effort to keep it open.  It is sacred to our family. When something comes up on a Monday that is unavoidable, like a graded band concert, the whole family attends.
     As important as I feel FHE is, it can be a challenge with 6 kids who might be thinking more about dessert than anything else.  So, I'm always open to ways to improve this time. While at education week, I heard an idea from a religion professor and decided to do it with my family.

So. . . last night for our FHE activity we made FHE/Scripture journals. The concept is very simple.  I purchased nice notebooks, the kind that normally cost $1-$2, but go on sale for 50 cents this time of year. The kids get to have them during the FHE lesson and our daily morning scripture study.  They may draw pictures and take notes as desired to help them absorb what is being taught or discussed.  As soon as I heard the idea, I knew it would help at least two of my kids be less likely to do gymnastics off the couch during lessons.

Last night I introduced the idea and shared some statistics from the class where I heard about the journals.  In a nutshell, this professor has scientifically researched and discovered that taking notes increases the spiritual take away by about 8 percent.  Other things that help people feel the Spirit are pre-reading and participating orally at least 4 times.  Anyway, back to the journals.

I gave everyone a notebook and then offered up my complete stock of cardstock and stickers.  These babies date back to 1997 and I figured it was time to actually use some of them.  Everyone cut and glued for the next hour and a half until each member of my family was satisfied with his or her journal.  And here they are. . .

My book is influenced a conference talk about "hearing" the music of the gospel.

Judd made the Holy Ghost

Tim has a little violin on the front, cause he plays the violin.

The back of his book is weaved.  

Reuben's says "Journal, Journal" It also offers a 25 year warranty on pianos and organs in the bottom left.  He likes to be random.

Amy went to town with all kinds of fun papers and cutouts.

For Audrey was all about the stickers.

Emmeline didn't know when to be done. She still wants to add stickers. 

Clara's journal is not pictured because, well, somehow I missed taking her picture and she has hidden the journal.  It must be somewhere safe.  

After finishing our journals, there was only one reasonable thing left to be done- DESSERT!  

We greatly enjoyed homemade cookies and ice cream and finished the night off with family prayer. Everyone said it was a great Family Home Evening and the kids started using their journals this morning for family scripture study at 6:40 A.M.  Yes, 6:40 A.M.

Mini blog two: 

  We used to have scriptures at 7 A.M. last year. Reuben left at 5:40 T-Th for early morning seminary, so he missed out.  I never felt good about that.  At Education Week a speaker by the name of Merilee Boyack inspired me to basically put my feet where my mouth is. . . she said we should be moving HEAVEN and EARTH to have scripture study and twice daily family prayer with our families.  I felt in my heart that this was something we need in our family to strengthen us in the midst of a world that teaches many things that oppose what we believe.  I told my husband how I felt and he jumped in with two feet, supporting the idea completely to add evening prayer and to find a way to include all of our kids in scripture study.  The kids talked about it and decided it should be moved to 6:40 A.M.  I initially felt some resistance because I exercise from 6-7, but then I realized that NOTHING is more important than putting on the armor of God each morning, and I decided to shorten my exercise time.  I know it's the right thing to do.  It's only been a week and a half of these two changes, but already I feel an increased peace and love in my home.  It is such a small change really, but it's bringing my children closer to each other and to my husband and me.  I love the feeling of calm and quiet peace that we have at night as we kneel together on the floor of my little girls' room and unite together to speak to our Heavenly Father.  

On This Long Awaited Day

When I had my first baby nearly 17 years ago, I began a mental countdown to the time when I would send my last baby off to school.  I was at the beginning of my career as a stay at home mom and I wondered what the journey would bring. Of course, being a mom is a job you never retire from, but the responsibilities change along the way.

I will never forget the feelings of new mommyhood.  How I anxiously anticipated the start of caring for another human.  I read everything there was to read about pregnancy and childbirth and I was perfectly prepared for an unmedicated delivery, which worked out somehow.  Sadly, in my obsessive focus on growing and birthing a baby, I forgot to read any books about how to care for a new life!  Poor Pittsling number one.  It was a rough beginning.

12 hours of breastfeeding every day.
2 hours of sleep at night, if I was lucky.
A little tike who needed to be held all day.
Throw in me still being in college, and it was pretty intense!

And I loved it!  I loved him!  I fiercely adored being a mother and smothered that child with all of the love that I could send out to him.

The second time around was even better.  I got an easy baby.  My boys have always loved each other and we moved smoothly into the life of two kids.  Life was so simple. Take care of little boys. Play with trains.  Watch Teletubbies. Go on walks. Play with playdough.  Change diapers and make sure the little ones gets enough sleep. Fill up sippy cups and kiss boo boos.

The kids kept coming and we did our best to enjoy the happy chaos of constant chatter and sticky fingers.

Time passed like hours spent reading a really great book that you can't put down.  I find myself asking ,"Did that last chapter really just end?"  I mean, I saw it coming. I SAVORED the last few chapters. I have no regrets, but I still wish for my powers to manipulate the rotation of the earth which haven't quite developed.

17 years. 6 kids. 5 moves.  7 preschools.   5 Elementary schools.

Amidst the joy and the struggles of raising 6 children, I often remarked that I would not be the mom sitting on the couch crying when my "baby" went to Kindergarten.  I claimed I would be partying about my well earned break.

And then, my last child turned out to be this sweet bundle of ooey gooey preciousness.

 She started school yesterday.  I sent the most adorable little girl off to be educated by somebody I don't even know.  I feel like her teacher should pay ME for the privilege of spending 3 hours a day with my child.  

It's not like I'm not busy, and free time evaporates around here like a drop of water in the Arizona desert.  Every week we have 6 kids to ferry to and from 4 schools, 9 hours of soccer, one voice lesson, two dance  classes, two after school band classes, one tumbling class, one gymnastics class, 4 piano lessons to teach, two houses to clean, a law practice to run, FHE, scriptures and prayer, dinners and dishes, laundry( Oh laundry), yardwork, homework, Sunday night Stirling Singers practice, Activity Days to run ( along with 4 other callings that I LOVE!), and about a gazillion bajillion other things, like everyone else!  So, yes, I'm busy.

But, now I have more kid free time.  And I'm not gonna cry!

I'm not.

I've made my plans and I'm sticking to them like, well, like the hot glue holding my glasses together.  It stays most of the time, but sometimes it comes apart and I have to reglue it.  I might mess up, I might get off track, but I'll just get right back on!

I have to face this new chapter and find meaning and purpose in it.  I have about 14 hours a week now without my little buddy.  And I've made some decisions about how to be a good steward of that time.  One sure way to succeed is to tell other people, so I'm telling the whole world here- or the 47 people who read this.

I am going to do the things I love and the things that matter.  I'm going to the temple once a week. I started yesterday. I am going to write more seriously, starting with a picture book about a cartwheeling otter with a messy room.  I am going to study the gospel for 30 minutes a day. I am going to do family history work. I am going to go to the gym AFTER the sun rises. I am going to listen to the promptings of the Holy Ghost and follow them, starting with increasing family prayer to twice a day.  My kids need all the protection they can get while living in this wicked world.  I am going to live with purpose so that all that I do has a positive impact on my kids, even while they aren't with me during the day.

And here's my question to you-

If you are kid free for all or part of the day, what do you do?

If you are not, what do you plan to do when that phase of life happens for you?

I'd love to hear from you, either here on my blog or on my facebook page!