I started a new blog

Hey guys.

I'm not going to be writing on this blog so much anymore.  Perhaps not at all.

I have started a new one.  My life has changed and I feel that I am no longer the person who started this one.  So I'm starting over from here.  This point.  I am jumping in right where I am.

Here's the new blog address if any of you would like to follow it.

http://middleagedyoungmom.blogspot.com/

Thanks for sharing the journey so far with me!

Lora

For Sale

There's a website called Captureyour365.com.  It's for photography.  There is a monthly list of prompts for those who want to play along and capture their 365 days of the year in photos.  I like the idea but have never been able to stick with it for long. So I've decided to make it my own.  To change it to suit me better.  I want to use words sometimes.  Most times really.  If you get a photo to help illustrate then all the better.  So starting today, or really yesterday, here's some of my 365.

The prompt for today is "For Sale"

I thought on it all day yesterday and it just seemed so... blah.  Until this morning.  I woke up, looked around my house and thought about the cost of life.  Of living.  Of taking care of things and ourselves.  These last few days I've put a lot of housework on the back burner.  And in the spirit of authenticity, I cannot say it was all for a good cause.  Sometimes I just couldn't do it and didn't feel a need to.  Other times I was overwhelmed by the seeming enormity of it all.  And then others I opted out because what I really wanted was to indulge in the last photo of today's series.  The book.  Oh how I love to read.  And on some days, any book will do.

This is the table in my downstairs living room.  The one that used to have a greater purpose aside from the holder of things that I don't want to deal with quite yet.  Weeks my friends, weeks.

I swear I never get things put in the proper place.  Books, fabric, chargers??  It all has a place but this one is so much more convenient.

AT least one of these things will get moved from the surface of my desk as early as tomorrow.  Why?  Because it's that striped green thing that holds James's diapers... I'll need it for church.  Everything else... anyone's guess.

Due to desk and table overflow... this is where I actually did my work.

This bag of opened rice has been on my counter since Tuesday.  TUESDAY!  It's dangerously close to becoming part of my kitchen decor.

Heaven above I love non-wrinkle clothes a little too much.  It would only take 5 seconds more to hang them up but at the end of the day... not happening.

I hate things on the top of my dresser.  HATE.  And yet... an old box, a humidifier that hasn't been turned on since March, clothes that are too small for Ben and only need to be put away into the holding for James pile... and just stuff.  I hates it I tell you, hates!  And yet there it sits.

All of the above sits because of this.  Any irony there??

The cleanliness and orderliness of my life was for sale... the price?  A really good read.

Happy Saturday my friends.  I hope you get some time to read too.

For Myself

A Message

Dear self,

You are doing okay.  You have a lot on your plate.  A lot that doesn't really look like that much when everything is listed singly.  But when it's put together, when the list has to be taken care of every single day, or even once or twice a week.... it's overwhelming. 

So often you don't feel like you have a choice.  Like the things on your plate, your to do list, are absolutes.  That if you don't get them done then there is something wrong with you.  Or your skills.  That everyone else could get it done, what's your problem?

Stop it.

Stop it now.

You are not everyone else.  Not everyone else is you.  You alone know what is in your heart and what holds priority.  What truly deserves to be at the top of the priority list.  What brings you joy in your soul.  What makes it possible for you to go to sleep at night feeling like you did your best.  No matter what that best looks like.

And please for the love of everything let your "best" be flexible.  If you rocked the to do list yesterday but can't seem to get yourself off the couch today, it's okay.  More than okay.  Your worth is not judged by what you can accomplish in any given time frame, your worth is what's in your heart.

You can choose.

You've always had a choice.

Take back your life.  Own your story.

Take Your Place

A message I gave at my church's Relief Society birthday party in March.  Just thought I would share.


A few weeks ago I was having a bad morning.  The kind where your 4-year old is throwing a fit over breakfast and the baby is yelling in the high chair.  I looked around myself and saw a mess of a house in every room.  Dishes piled high, laundry to be done, food stuck to the wall, toys and junk mail scattered everywhere, shoes (mostly mine), diapers, bottles, burp clothes, spills on the floor, unmade beds, uncleaned carpets, a bathroom coated in water spots and toothpaste, bottles of various products and wet wash clothes.  Stairs with dust and dirt in the corners and the massive clutter of things that get put on top of other things waiting for me to decided where their home really is or if they are even needed.  I thought of my seemingly mile long to-do list tat didn't even include "deep clean the house because for. the. love how can you stand it anymore!"  All the while the 4-year old fit still playing in the background and I thought "Heaven help me I can't do this anymore!  I just can't."

I was on the verge of my very own 40-year old fit and decided to put on some music to soothe the savage beast within me.  The first song that played was "Come Take Your Place" by Hilary Weeks.  I started to cry.  I listened to the words and they touched me.

"You carry the light of the Son.
An running through your veins is royal blood.
You're the strong, You're the brave, You're the faithful
You have been saved for this moment in time
You hear the call, you feel the flame, you've been prepared
Come take your place."

I had been pondering what message I wanted to share with you as sisters and in that crazy chaotic moment of my life I knew this was it.

Sisters.  Do you know how loved you are?

Just think about it.

Some of us are blessed to know we are loved without doubt.  Never questioning.  Others struggle daily, sometimes hourly with feelings of self worth and insecurity.  Still others are in between.  Bouncing back and forth.

I wish with all my heart that I could saw the words that would take all that insecurity away.  That every one of you could go home and never feel insecure again.  That my words could fix hearts, heal wounds, take pain away, put light in your eyes, give purpose to your step, to your life.  That I could change your whole outlook to one of joy, hope, confidence, and security.

But that is not my super power.  It's His.  You carry the light of the Son of God.  You.

Running through your veins is royal blood.

You are strong-- look at what you've faced, what you've gone through and are going through to be here.  This place in your life.  Here and now.  In your own specialized personal progression.  Look at your past and see His hand in your life.

You are brave-- You are brave
You are faithful.

You have been saved for this moment in time.  These latter days.  These days of joyous blessings amidst the seeming insanity of the world.  You were chosen to come here and now.  You are here when the gospel of Jesus Christ is strong and established and under attack because you are incredible.  You have something that the rest of the world needs.  You know that you are a daughter of God.  Your nature is divine.

You know that Heavenly Father is more than a vague concept.  You know he is real and cares very much about what happens in your life and your level of joy.  "Men are that they might have joy."

You know that you can talk to him and he will listen.  Hey will answer your prayers.  He will help you through your trials.  He loves you.  As you are and who you will become.  He is your Father, the father of your spirit, the creator of you.  And if you doubt his love for you... Ask him.

Ask Him.  Out loud or in your heart, simply ask God of his love for you.  He will answer.

You hear the call and you answer.
You feel the flame of the Spirit testifying of truth, the truth of who you are and what this life is all about.
You've been prepared.
Come take your place.

Want to learn more about Relief Society and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints?  Visit www.lds.org

My Mom Must Hate Me

It's the only explanation.  She must hate me else why would she do the things she does?

Ben here by the way.  Mom's off doing laundry and other super fun stuff that I'm not allowed to do.  Again.  She calls them chores but I think that anything that has to be done that much must be something fun.  But I digress.  She hates me.

I can think of no other reason why she would do the things she does.  Her and Dad both!  The two of them together drive me nuts sometimes!  You should have seen them this morning.  I started putting the helicopter and the man on the table so we could all eat breakfast together.  I mean helicopters get hungry too ya know.  Dad told me that I couldn't do that.  I looked at him like he was crazy because clearly he was.  I immediately went to mom because she's usually the more level headed of the two and would see the idiocy of the whole thing, but bam! Not this morning!  Oh no, it was all "You know the rules, no toys on the table when we eat."

Toys.... TOYS!!!  Didn't she understand that these aren't toys they are my friends!  Friends don't sit out on meals!   Then she had the audacity to tell me I could put them on the stool next to me.  Like they are lower than me.  Second class citizens instead of die hard playmates that have my back every minute of the day.

Well I let her have it then.  I showed my frustration as clearly as I could and she just sat there... looking at me like I was daft or something.  I mean how hard is it to read body language anyways! And then she's all like "I can't understand you, use your words".  USE YOUR WORDS!!!  How much more clear can I get!  I threw the "toys".  I grunted in obvious frustration.  I even let out a little scream.  I was clearly upset, any food could see that.  (Okay, I did feel bad about throwing my friends, but they knew I needed all the help I could get to make my point for their sake.  I apologized to them and besides, they have my back.)  Then she had the nerve to tell me that I had to the count of 10 to pick up my "toys" and put them on the stool or they would be hers.  SERIOUSLY!  Am I the only one who sees this blatant hatred!  Why else would she threaten the lives of my friends unless she hated me.

But wait, there's more.  If that were the only instance this morning then I could possibly have let it slide.  But not so my friends... we're working with professionals here.  I finally capitulated for the good of my friends and put the helicopter and the man on the stool, where they sat apart... segregated... alone... , but not before mom got to 8, I'm not a complete push over you know.  And with great effort I over looked her obvious lack of care as she did not have the Bumbo seat (which she says I'm too big for, but that's another story) perfectly aligned with the back of the chair which I had to fix because otherwise my life would have been in danger.  (Those Bumbos are tricky you know, the slightest bit of misalignment could throw the whole thing off balance and I would tumble on the floor And Die.  I really don't know why they use them with babies anyway.)  So, after saving my own life from danger I was then left to... wait for it... pull myself up to the table!  Right!!!  I was clearly too far away and she just ignored it.  Totally ignored people!  What kind of mother is that anyway!  Please tell me I'm not the only one who has to deal with this stuff.  Sheesh!

SO with great effort I pull myself up to the table under her uncaring eye, tell myself that it's going to be okay and that I can handle it in the secret language that I use as a test to see if people really care (those who can understand are those who care because they have looked into my eyes... my heart and can see the pain and want to help.  Needless to say my parents don't understand.) and get ready for the prayer on the food.  That goes well... at least it did after I straightened out my fork several times during the prayer because it too was in the wrong place.  Big surprise.

Anyway, the prayer is said and I am once again left on my own.  The eggs that my mother put on my plate were not cut.  NOT CUT!  Like what am I supposed to do with that?!?  They aren't cut and there's no ketchup on my plate to be seen for my dipping pleasure.  I could very well starve! So with a bit of irritation in my voice I said "Cut my eggs now!"  Mom said "Excuse me?"  I said "Cut My Eggs NOW!" I also added a grunt for good measure and pointed with vigor at the offending uncut eggs.  And then she looked at me with calculated coldness and said... "Ask nicely."  And that was it.  I lost it!  A kid can only put up with so much and I. Was. Done!  Done I tell you!  I pulled out all the stops and yelled.  Oh I yelled.  I pointed at the offending eggs as I yelled and THEY JUST STARED AT ME!  Stared!!  Like I had two heads or something.  Like they didn't know what I was trying to say!   So I yelled more.  On and on I went.  And they laughed. LAUGHED! my parents looked at each other and laughed in the face of my pain.  The people who are supposed to love me best laughed!  My toys, my eggs, my lack of ketchup, my life!  They laughed! They said something to each about starving bad behavior, whatever that meant, and went on as if I weren't there. Oh it was horrible.  Horrible!

Mom cleared her dishes and I continued to yell.  She wiped down the table and I continued to yell.  It's like I wasn't there.  My yelling had no effect!  So I had to up my game.  I threw myself at her legs, grabbing her pants sobbing, and she pretended not to notice.  Well... at least I think she was pretending because she had to have felt my hands around her legs right?  I can't vouch for her hearing... I think that may be going.  She is old you know.   I usually have to repeat myself a lot.  But all of it?  No, I'm not buying it.  She had to notice.  But did she do anything? No.  Just acted like I wasn't there.  She even talked to my dad, who apologized to her and wished her luck for some reason.  I am the one she should be apologizing to.  But no.  Mom laughed with my dad, said thanks, and went back to the kitchen and all the while I was clinging to her leg. Unnoticed.

I just don't get it!  I don't.  I finally had to dumb it down for her.  I mean really dumb it down.  I finally said, "Mommy, will you cut my eggs please?" She said "what, I can't hear you?"  (See what I mean about the hearing part?)  So I said it again, louder this time.  Apparently that was the magic word or something, because at last... at long, long last, my eggs got cut.  Ketchup was put on my plate. A waffle was cut and added as well along with syrup and a glass of orange juice... and all was right in the world.

Maybe she doesn't hate me after all... maybe she's just hard of hearing.  Huh.

Blow Me To Bermuda!!

Do you ever have those days?

The days when you just want more than anything to be sitting on the beach with the drink of your choice in hand, soaking up the sun, reading a book maybe.  Nothing but the sound of the water hitting the sand.  Warmth filling your body.  No one needing your attention.  No one to take care of but yourself.  Warm.  Peaceful.  Alone.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family.  Really I do.  I just want the chance to miss them.  And them me. I feel trapped in this cycle of dishes/laundry/cooking/cleaning/Mom-I-need______  wash, rinse, repeat.  Like that's all I'm good for.

Not all days are like this, but more are than I am comfortable with.  It could very easily have something to do with it being January.  Icky grey weather, few chances to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.  Running out of activities to do with children who also feel increasingly smothered by the lack of outdoors.

It could have something to do with the fact that I don't like any of my clothes and my hair still hasn't gotten to a length that I like and can work well with.

It could be financial stresses.  Not quite seeing how all those bills will be paid on time.  Trying to figure out what to cut down on that hasn't already been trimmed as much as possible.  Knowing deep down that it will all work out because we are doing what we can so it has to.  Right?  Doesn't it just have to somehow?

Starting a new job.  One that won't take too much out of the week, but enough to worry just a bit about how the scheduling of it all will work out.

So much to fit in.

Or it could be something different all together.  Something more on the inside rather than the outside.

In "The Gifts of Imperfection" I'm on the section about Cultivating Self-Compassion.  This passage has given me much to think about.

"Mindfulness: Taking a balanced approach to negative emotions so that feelings are neither suppressed nor exaggerated.  We cannot ignore our pain and feel compassion for it at the same time.  Mindfulness requires that we not 'over-identify' with thoughts and feelings, so that we are caught up and swept away by negativity."

So I don't want to ignore those negative emotions, but I don't want to over exaggerate their importance in my life either.  Feelings are real and need to be honored.  They need to be expressed so that the things that are causing those feelings can be dealt with.  Good and bad.

I have good things going on in my life as well.  My boys crack me up and I can't imagine loving them more.  Sometimes I just want to bask in those feelings of love for the little hugs and kisses, smiles and giggles.  Those big and little personalities that are so much a part of my life.  That I want to be a part of my life.

I am excited about my new job and a bit of time out of the house even though the schedule worries me a bit.  It might even help get us to a place where I could buy a shirt that I like! Maybe a pair of pants that fit and aren't technically maternity pants.  (oh the secrets you learn by reading this blog!)

Bottom line... I'm allowed to feel.  I have a right to feel.  Good and bad.  I will own it.  I will not shame myself for feeling down.  Especially in January, with no easy access to a beach and sun or Bermuda.  Though I would still like to go there.

Broken

This week has been hard.  I don't know if it is just one of those weeks or if my heart and mind are in just the right place to really make things difficult.

I've been writing things down throughout the week that I have discovered about myself.  I have thought about sharing them several times now and have chickened out repeatedly.  Thinking that if I gave it a little more time then maybe it wouldn't leave me so vulnerable when I finally did share it because time would numb it somehow?  I'm not so sure my strategy worked.

In fact, that's one of the things that I learned for certain this week.  I run from things in whatever way I can.  On Tuesday I found myself with 2 whole gloriously free hours.  One child at school, the other in bed, and my husband in meetings outside of the house.  Freedom my friends.  The perfect time to take a look at being authentic and figure some things out.  I headed to my desk, looked at the computer and books that were there waiting to guide me on my journey and picked up a pair of scissors and the tv remote.  I promptly settled in to episodes of One Tree Hill while cutting and sewing quilting squares for that two hours of gloriously free time.  Knowing full well that I was running away from myself.  And the cool things was I totally justified it!  Totally!  These quilt squares were going to be used to make quilts to donate to CAPSA.  A worthy cause.  It it wasn't for CAPSA it would have been for a gift for someone else, or for my son's bed or for anyone but myself because doing things for myself is selfish and unworthy, but doing them for someone else?  Totally noble and worth any sacrifice.

So realization #1:  I don't think that I'm worth spending time on.

I'm not for sure how far this extends.  Just myself? Others? Either way it runs pretty deep.  Which is why I fill my life with so many things for others, or so many chores that need to be done (the to-do list that won't quit!), or responsibilities that I have taken on myself, that it's impossible for my true self to get a word in edgewise.

And let's take a look at that one... true self.  Or rather the fear of letting my true self be known, be seen, be out there.

Somehow I have the impression deeply rooted in my psyche that my true self must be pretty ugly and unlovable because I'm so afraid that if I let all of myself out there I will be weighed and measured and found wanting.  How did that happen?  I don't think that I'm alone in this one.  What has caused me to focus so much on my flaws that I actually believe that I am more bad than good?  Or rather that the few "bad" points/character flaws/personality conflicts/whatever will outweigh any good that ever was in me and people will reject me outright.  "If they knew the real me they would not be my friends anymore."  And the crazy stupid thing is that when you spend enough time around people your flaws leek out automatically anyway and your friends see you for who you are and they still like you.  Even better than before.  Which means my true nature is actually out there but I'm the only one who doesn't know it and the only one who hasn't accepted me for me.

Realization #2: I'm the only one who hasn't accepted me for me.  I'm the one that weighed, measured, and found myself wanting.  I'm the one who can't see my beauty.

There's more.  But this is all I can share right now.  I'm trying not to push myself too much.  I don't want to get burnt out or rush through lessons that need more time to soak in.  And besides that, I'm not quite sure what to do with the realizations yet.  Changing the way one thinks and feels about oneself... well that's no simple task.

Till next time.

The Down Low... The Low Down??

Okay... Authentic.

Let's see how this goes.

This will be my place of sharing.  My place to vent my frustrations, my a-has  and anything else that goes under showing up and being real.  It might get ugly for me... and painful... and wonderful.  That's what my gut tells me.  Learning is more often painful than easy.  And if you are reading this then you get to have a small part in the journey with me.  Please be kind my friends...

A little more on the why.  Why I chose this word.

I am a habitual people pleaser.  I want to make those around me feel validated and loved and better about life.  That by itself is no bad thing.  In fact it's very admirable.  But what if it's fake?  What if it's at the expense of my true feelings and my integrity?  What if my need to please people causes me to read things into a situation that just aren't there.  To think people are reaching out for help when they aren't.  To think that I'm more needed than I am.  To think that I can't say no to anything.  To be tossed about on every wave of perception at the expense of my own sanity and my ability to take care of those that I am legitimately responsible for.  In short, what if people pleasing is driving me mad!?!

That's kind of what I feel like.  But at the same time I am a very capable person.  I can do things for others.  The question is whether or not I should.

It's a dangerous thing to get trapped into thinking that the world would stop turning if we don't do something.  Or worse yet to think that we are the only ones who can do something because we are "clearly better at it" than anyone else.  Aren't we depriving others of a learning experience when we do this?

There are just so many thoughts running through my head these days about what is really right and what is really wrong.  What is just a habit or a routine, rather than a choice.  Something thought out and decided upon intentionally.  Honestly.

It's a little mushy in my head these days.  But back to people pleasing.  I have found that I am biting off way more than I can chew sometimes.  I think that I am more capable than I really am.  Not that I can't do the thing being asked, but that I can't do the thing being asked and make dinner.  Or spend time with my littles.  Or shower for crying out loud!  And then I find myself overwhelmed into a paralytic state with feelings of bitterness and anger.  Happy right?

I was in one of these states when I picked up Brene' Brown's book "The Gifts of Imperfection" and began reading it again.  I never finished it the first time because there was so much in it that I didn't want to rush it.  I wanted to take my time and really digest the information presented.  And you guessed it, it didn't happen.  It sat on my shelf patiently waiting for me to pick it up again when I was ready.

It's in Brene's book that she talks of authenticity.  It struck a chord.  A painful promising chord.  Painful in that it pricked my heart as something that I needed more of and would require change on my part.  Promising in that the false front would be removed.  I could stop hiding behind good intentions or false modesty.  I want to own my struggles and be able to admit when I'm having a hard time of it.  I want to be free.  Just free.

It scares me though.  It really does.
So again my friends... be kind.

PS.  I'm publishing this journey on this here blog because if I don't share it, I know myself well enough to realize that I will stop.  I will hide.  I will cower and forget the whole thing ever meant something.  I will sell myself short.  That said, if anything here offends, feel free to stop reading.

New Year, New Word

Here we go again my friends.  It's a new year and a new word.  In the past I have taken this a little more lightly.  I have chosen a word that I liked but didn't really require much of me. Something that I could reasonably achieve in a few moments of a-ha or even not really think of at all and still feel like I "done good".

This year??  Not so much.  In fact this year my word chose me.  I didn't want it to.  I stumbled across it, not even looking for it mind you, and it said "Hello there... I see that I make you a little uncomfortable, let's be friends.  In fact let's spend the whole next year together."  I cringed a little and said "Oh... that's okay.  You're cool and all but I don't know if I can really be myself around you."  It cleverly responded with "And that's the problem."

So without further ado, the word that chose me this year and I decided to keep is "Authentic".

Anyone out there see why I cringed?  

Lots for me to learn folks... lots to learn.

Happy 2016 everyone.

I'm Here Because I Asked

There is so much going on in the world today that hurts my head and my heart.  So much hatred coming from so many different places.  Those far away, those near and dear to my heart.  So much misunderstanding and so many conclusions jumped to.  Love and kindness, or hatred and meanness?  Real? Perceived? Misguided?  Uninformed?  I don't know.

The LDS church of which I am a member, has recently made a change in the handbook concerning the ordinances of Blessing (giving a name and a blessing of an infant to be known on the records of the church) and Baptism of children being raised in a same-sex marriage household.  There are many different opinions going around as to the right and wrong of this decision.  My purpose in writing today is not to judge either way.  I am not interested in debating the rights and wrongs, perceived or real, in this change.  I don't have all the information.  I don't know all that went into this decision.  But I do know that it has made facebook explode with conversations about it.

So what is my place?  That is the question that I continually ask myself.  Where do I fit in this mess of religion, politics, and social media?

I first asked myself this question when the whole "pants to church" episode exploded people's minds.  I didn't know all that much about the movement at the time, but I was absolutely appalled at the hatred that showed up.  Women condemning other women for wearing pants to church and vice versa.  It hurt my head and my heart deeply.  The hatred.  And I found myself questioning my faith.  Questioning my belief.  Did I want to be a part of this?  

I sat in church one Sunday pondering these questions.  Pondering whether this church was the place for me.  Women whom I knew and loved were so full of anger on this topic, readily condemning those who were a part of this movement as faithless.  I did not feel the same way.  So where did I fit?  Where did I belong?  What was I to do?

I was in sacrament meeting, sitting on the front row, heart hurting, when I decided to ask.  Not my bishop.  Not my husband.  Not my parents.  Not my friends.  I asked God.  My Heavenly Father.  I said a prayer in my heart and asked Him where he wanted me to be?  I really wanted to know.  Where would He have me be, what would He have me do?  And guess what folks... I got an answer.  Peace descended on my heart and words came to my mind telling me that He would have me here.  In church, partaking of the sacrament and renewing my covenant to always remember Him, to follow Him, to keep His commandments.  I felt very strongly that I was right where the Lord wanted me to be, doing what He wanted me to do.  Which is strive to be like him. To learn his ways and practice loving like he does.

Practice. Loving.

Keep trying.  Keep learning.  Keep loving.  Keep going.

I do not have all the answers.  I don't think I'm ready for all the answers.  Living the gospel is given to us line upon line, precept upon precept.  Milk before meat. (Isaiah 28:9-10)  The lesser law (the law of Moses) was given before the higher law when the sacrifice and resurrection of Christ fulfilled the law of Moses.    Men were then commanded to sacrifice their will to God.  A broken heart and a contrite spirit.  A heart willing to follow God.  Something that was much more difficult to sacrifice than a lamb on the altar.

So I will stay here.  In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints because I asked God if it was still the place for me and he answered. I do not understand everything.  But I do know that God, my Heavenly Father, wants what is best for me, always.  And best does not always mean easy.

Just Enough...

This is what my life has been looking like lately.

Notice the things that are shoved to the side?

Making just enough room to get by.  Just enough room to set the table for breakfast.  Just enough room to open the door, get up the stairs, type on the computer.

It's just a sampling of the house.  Sadly every room is in that state.  Things are shoved aside in the bathroom giving just enough room to take care of personal hygiene.  

I try, I really do.  The pictures you see are the ones taken after I at least picked up the toys, because no matter how you paint it, if there's very little room to move around, cars/animals on the floor just aren't going to work for personal safety.  They get stepped on... and then cursed at under my breath. But that's beside the point.

The point.  My point that I'm trying to get at, is that's it's okay.  It's okay to have times where you do just enough.  It's not a sign of laziness, apathy, or bad housekeeping.  It does not mean you are a bad person.  It does not mean anything negative at all.  It means that there are some things that are just more important.  It may mean that you have so many irons in the fire that a nice clean organized house is just not in the cards for awhile.  And that's okay.

I saw something on facebook a few nights ago that said "You didn't let your three year old drive the car today right?  Then you're a good mom!"

Take that to heart my friends.  Are your children still alive at the end of the day?  Did they get fed?  Success! 

On a side note, this happened:

He turned three months old last Saturday.  Three whole months!! He's filled out, he's babbling all the time, he's smiling and happy and such a blessing in my life.  And usually he gets more of my time than just enough.  Just as it should be. 

Thoughts on the Present

My word of the year is "Present".

Initially I had in mind what that meant.  To be present was to be here.  To enjoy the good things around me, the growing up, the changing and learning.   I was to live intentionally in the present of what was happening around me.  My life.  My family.  It was to be enjoyed.

I still believe that, but with more depth.  That depth coming in the form of the not so good times.  The times when you wish you could skip ahead, or bury your head in the sand (or back in the covers) and wait out the storm of learning and growing and changing because it is just so dang hard.  The times when things aren't so good and you're not so sure you want to do this, whatever this is, anymore.

In general I try to be a positive person.  It used to come naturally to me.  The older I have gotten and the more I have learned it has become increasingly easy to be cynical.  To dive deep into the social media fodder of the wronged and think we're all going to "hell in a hand basket".  To dive deep into my own parenting and think "my kids are going to hell in a hand basket and it's all my fault!"  To forget that I have knowledge and experience and a close up look at my world and what it entails and own it.

I am the one standing in my own shoes.  No one else.

I am the one that chooses to be happy or sad.  To tackle things head on.  To send others to the side lines.  I am the one that decides what is important in my life, what my priorities are, and what will help me feel satisfied with my life at the end of the day. No one else regardless of family, friend, or other connection can do that for me.  They can help me make my decisions, but I have the last say.

Life is hard. And that's okay.  It's how it's supposed to be.  It's how we learn, and grow, and change.  But that doesn't mean we have to be miserable through it.  And it doesn't mean that everything is awful.  Because it's not.

I was listening to the radio this morning and there was commentary about a report that concluded that having children is the worst thing that could happen to a person and their happiness level.  I wondered how that could be? Was the test group really that cynical?  Where were they in their lives?  How could those results be valid?  That certainly wasn't true for me.  Children made me so very happy... and then.

And then the sleepless night caught up with me.  I was quickly overwhelmed by everything that needed to be done and I wanted to run from my house screaming at the top of my lungs.  I wondered where that put-together, capable, positive can-do-anything person went.  That person that used to be nicknamed "Smiley" because I always had a smile on my face.  Hard to imagine now, I know.

A lot of life is hard.  Day to day chores drive me insane sometimes.  My children give me grey hairs and bring out my inner swear-word-user like never before.  Only rivaled by a brief rebellious period in high school when I was trying to be cool.  Except then I was in control, now it comes with deep feelings of anger and frustration and for the love of all things will you please just go to sleep!!  Swearing, even under my breath at 2am helps me vent some frustration without taking it out on my kid.  Never mind that there's a higher way.... still learning people!

Anyway, back to the report on the radio.  I couldn't help but wonder where these people were in their lives.  And are happiness and honest to goodness satisfaction the same thing?  Which one would I rather have?  Are these people just starting out with their families, right in the middle, or looking back on an empty house?  Because let's be honest, a lot of the day to day with children in the house is not "happy".  It's getting things done.  It's figuring out how to get your children to want to be good, responsible, respectful people.  It's hard, and grueling, and taking all of your energy sometimes.  And you wonder how you are going to manage, and what kind of things your kid will need therapy for in a few years. Or what you'll regret when you get a moment to look back.

The "happy" of these years comes in spurts.  It's the smile of the little one after that d@mn 2 am feeding that keeps you going and softens your heart.  It's when your older child wants nothing more than to give little brother a big squeeze and a kiss and then tells you that he loves you too.  The giggles, the smiles, the energy and life.  They are brief but much more poignant.  They hold you over through the rest.

My oldest is 3 1/2 years old and my trials have just begun. I have school, and tears, and teenage years to look forward to.  Times when we won't like each other at all.  And times when we'll be so glad to be this little family.

I want to be present through it all.  The good and the bad.  The good for obvious reasons, the bad so that I can fully appreciate all that is good.  Because at the end of the day, there is good.  Even if it's simply acknowledging that you are a day closer to the end of your trial.  A day wiser.  A day that is done.

It's a Miracle! My Child is Still Alive

As Mother's Day approaches rather rapidly, there have been a few thoughts running through my mind that I feel the need to share.  Enough that I am resurrecting this blog in order to get it all out there, available for anyone to see.

First. May all mothers of young children first and foremost congratulate themselves each and every day that their child still lives.  My kid is 3.  THREE.  Let's set aside the fact that time has gone rather quickly and focus on what that actually means and why it is important to celebrate the fact that he still lives.

Three for us means:

1. Ben finding and demanding his independence.

2. An escalation in monumental fits (ya know cause that actually works??)

3.  The introduction of regular chores, which I love, Ben doesn't always think so.

4.  A sense of humor that kills me sometimes.

5.  Negotiation on Ben's part.  "Just one more minute mom, k."

There's more, but these will suffice right now.  Let's talk about chores.  Chores like setting the table and making one's bed.  Chores that are not hard.  Chores that he has done several times by himself already and has proven quite proficient for a 3-year old.  Chores that have made him feel more capable and have actually improved his mood all the way around.  Mostly.

I say mostly because sometimes this little independent 3-year old gets a bee in his bonnet and just won't let it go.  Today it was about making his bed.  I told him he had to make his bed before he could go outside and play, or anything else really, and he was devastated.  Hurt.  Wounded both body and soul.  And he chose to have it manifest in his body, every little part of it.  His fingers hurt, his toes hurt, his head, his eyebrow, forehead, arm, elbow, knee etc.  EVERYTHING.  And everything needed a kiss better, and everything got repeatedly hurt with each little step towards completing his task.

I will not go into all of the sordid details, but suffice it to say that whining was the music of the morning, not every owie got kissed, and my patience wore thin in a hurry.  It's not like I changed the order of things.  It's the same every day. It's routine, it's how it's been for the last several months.  And most of the time he's jumped at the chance to do his part.  And in the effort to keep it real for all you mothers out there, I will have you know I exercised great restraint on my part.  Almost superhuman!  The urge to beat my child into submission was strong.  And if I hadn't learned already, from sad experience that I hope he won't have to have counseling for later on in life, that a spanking doesn't actually work on Ben and only suffices to confuse him and make me feel like a tyrant...well just oy!!

At the end of it all, the bed was made and not by me.  An hour later than usual, but not by me.  Ben's spirit only slightly broken, which is really okay because the stubbornness of the 3-year old is legendary and could use some tempering.  And now we are both happily doing what we would like to be doing on this glorious Thursday morning.

However, the day is still young!

So Mothers.  Mothers of young and old, good and bad and all that's in between.  Don't be too hard on yourselves.

Take the glowing reviews of perfect Mothers that will surely be shared somewhere this Mother's Day with a grain of salt, knowing that they struggled too.

Know that as long as you are trying you are doing great!

Know that you are okay and are the perfect mom for your kids.

He's also learning to dress himself.

My Word of the Year

I know, you've all been on pins and needles waiting to see what my word for this year will be.  Me too my friends.  I have toyed with a few ideas but none felt right.  I almost went into panic mode when the new year started and I still had no idea what I would be focusing on this year.  But then I remember that it was my year, my timeline, and that I could breathe.  The new year could start off just fine without my word.

And then it came to me.  And it was good.

Last year I focused on Hope.  And it was a good word for me at the time.  I spent a lot of time in despair before that.  Not taking the time to realize that there was a lot in my life to hope for.  Hope coupled with Faith brought about a second child for us.  Something that was taken off the table of reality but was still a hope of ours.  That's been the biggest blessing last year.  There were plenty of little things that were made better by hope, my relationship with Ben, my marriage, etc.  I guess those aren't really little things, but they are the day to day and sometimes that seems little.

Moving forward.

The word I chose this year, the word that quiet literally popped into my head in the wee small hours of the morning is:

PRESENT

There.  There it is.  I told this to David and he looked at my funny until I explained.  Present means being here.  Being here for my life and all that is in it.  Stop living in my head, or at least try to, and start living where I actually am.  Take time to look around at the here and now and actually be present for the wonder that is happening around me.

I can't tell you how many fun, cute, precious moments in time have happened with Ben that I have been too caught up in the rush of things to sit down and record.  Either by photo or written word.  All because what I was doing seemed to be more important, more urgent.  What could be more important or urgent that childhood?  I will always have projects that I want to do, and some that really do need to be done, but I want to take the time to be present for those precious and scarce moments that bring true joy to this little life of mine.

I want to live here and now.  Present does not mean I do not look toward the future or that I stop reflecting on the past, but I do not need to live in either one.

During this pregnancy I have spent a lot of time trying to realize that it is not the same one that I had with Ben.  I didn't write much during my first pregnancy because I was sicker that a dog, quite literally, and depressed out of my mind.  It was an absolute miserable time that I never wanted to repeat. Ever.  Ever.  Yet here I am pregnant again.  Rather than really enjoying the good news and the very real prospect of another child being brought into our family I spent a good portion of time waiting for the horror that was my first pregnancy to hit.  I went so far as to try to get all the good cuddling and loving time in with Ben while we were doing IVF because I just knew that once I got pregnant and the sick hit that would be the end of it.  I would spent weeks in the fetal position on the couch with a bucket too sick and depressed to move and my child would be left on his own wondering what happened to his mother.  My actions put both of us in a panic and accomplished nothing.  In fact it was the opposite.  It kind of freaked Ben out because he fed off of my apparently not too well hidden panic mode and started acting out.  It was just a mess.

And then the sickness didn't really hit like it had before.  Sure I got sick and there are still some relatively bad days, but NOTHING like before.  Nothing.  There was only one or two whole days spent worshiping the toilet gods on a regular basis as compared to the weeks I did last time.  Weeks that turned into months and a deep abiding hatred of ramen noodles and Banquet chicken pot pies.  I still shudder!

So there I was panicking for nothing.  No good reason.  I kept waiting still for it to hit.  Even now it seems so odd that I have done so well with everything.  Almost like I can't really be pregnant because it was "too easy" this time around.  I have the ultrasound pictures sitting by my desk as a reminder that this is really all happening.

I also don't want to freak out about the future.  I don't want to worry about what might be, or even get caught dreaming of what could be and pinning all of my happiness on plans that may or may not happen.

I want to be here.  Experiencing life as it is happening.  Finding the joy, the hope, things to be thankful for every day.  I really do believe we are surrounded by good things even in bad times.  Sometimes even more so in bad times, we just have to look a little harder to see them.

May your 2015 be spectacular my friends.  May happiness abound and your lives be blessed.

Merry Christmas One and All

As this magical time of year has come upon us in full force, I have felt positively inspired to send out a Christmas letter.  This will be the second letter I have ever sent out in the course of David and I’s 9 years of marriage.  Look for another in about 5 years.

Well, what has this year brought the David and Lora Sullivan family?

For Ben.  It has brought his continued existence which was no easy feat at times.  He turned 2 in February and though I love him dearly, it has brought its own unique set of challenges.  Ben has learned that it is in fact not okay to run around naked even though he is so proud of himself for being able to de-diaper his cute little bum all by himself.  He has learned the meaning of time-out much to his chagrin and momma’s delight.  He has learned to work the television and the dvd player on his own (I’m still not sure if I should be proud of this fact) but thankfully Netflix still remains a mystery of buttons to him else the mind numbing sounds of George’s Halloween Boofest would be haunting me even more than it does already… oh the horror!

All is not discouraging though.  He is talking up a storm and has also learned the sheer delight that it is to sneak up on someone to give them a good fright which makes this momma’s heart melt.  He also has a healthy grasp on the letter “W” and knows that if you turn an “M” upside down it too becomes a “W”!!  Which is why he so often turns the hymnbook upside down during church as well as looks at some signs with his head tilted.

For me this year has been full of changes and I sometimes marvel that we have all survived.  Or rather that everyone has survived me!  I am expecting our second child which we received through the miracle of modern medicine.  Say what you will about it, but IVF has brought both our children into our home and I’m truly grateful for the doctors and nurses who make it all possible as well as the angel that blessed us financially to be able to pursue it once again.  That being said, if any of you have gone through this process… wowza!  One of David’s accomplishments this year really is surviving his hormone hyped up wife and that was all just to get pregnant.  I’m not sure how he handles things now, though he does spend a lot of time in his office.  Hmmm.

So my accomplishments this year include: surviving injections with flying colors, not killing anyone close to me during the process, and making it out of bed every day to at least get my son dressed. Dressing myself seems to be optional these days. I have also mopped my floor at least a dozen times, dusted the entire house all at once, and I even thought really hard about planting a garden. 

Now for David. The saint.  I mentioned his survival of me earlier which earns him a plethora of brownie points in heaven I’m sure.  He still enjoys his job and even got a raise this year, woo-hoo!  It was just enough to cover the upcoming raise in our insurance rates!  He survived his 3-year stint in scouts and is now enjoying his new calling as High Priest Group Secretary and I enjoy having him home more often.  He is still working part time at CAPSA which he also enjoys for more than just the work.  Since his regular job has him working from home his outings to CAPSA give him a chance to get out of the house which is also nice.

That pretty much sums up our lives at this point.  However I would be remiss in not mentioning my love for this time of year and the reason that it is so special.  I know that Christmas has been commercialized to death and that part is not my favorite.  But I do love that it is a chance to show each other that you care.  The chance to find the gift that will delight.  The chance to share with a gift the love that we feel.  I know that it is something we should do all year and some are better at it than others.  But still, even if this is the only time we put someone else above ourselves I am grateful for the one time.  The one time that most people around us are feeling the magic of the season just the same as we are.

May God bless you all this season and this coming year.  May we all do a little better and love each other a little more.

With love,

David, Lora, and Ben

Logan 12th Ward Super Saturday

The Logan 12th ward Relief Society Activity is coming up!

This Saturday

November 22, 2014

11am - 3 pm

Open House style so you can come and go as you please.

A light lunch and nursery will be provided and if you want to bring some treats to share, please do!

Money for this activity is due by Wednesday the 19th.  You can give it to anyone in the Relief Society Presidency or on the activities committee and they'll get it to the right person.  

And for those who don't know who that is, the RS Presidency is made up of:  Ellen Millburn, Susan Speedy, Lora Sullivan, and Sharla Goring.

The activities committee is: Kathrin Fore, Peggy Ramsten, Felecia Kimber, Jennie Pakalani, and Natalie Montgomery.

If you would like to order any of the items listed below please email or call me (Lora) so I can get it on the list.  

Email:  mdmarian02@hotmail.com  Call: 435-774-0074  or 

Text 435-760-5639

Why I Did It

I changed my profile picture of Facebook.

It may look like I followed the crowd.

It may look like I'm just trying to do something cool to "fit in" with what could be seen as the "cookie cutter" Mormon crowd.

It may look like I didn't put much thought into it and just decided to change it on a whim.

None of that is true.

For those of you who don't know where it comes from, there was an even created on Facebook called I'm a Mormon profile picture week.  You can find it here.  I was invited through someone and honestly thought at first that it was just one of those silly things that people do for no real reason.  Something to put us all in the same round hole whether you are shaped that way or not.  A giant "Gooooo Team!" right after General Conference. As I read the details though there seemed to be a bit more to it. 

The person who created it stated that "My hope is that you will participate and invite all of your Latter-day Saint Facebook friends to do so as well. Those not of our faith on Facebook may be surprised to discover they know someone who is "Mormon". And I pray that through that simple thing, sincere questions will be asked and gospel related conversations will be had. Together, we can help bring people closer to Jesus Christ and His restored gospel."

I liked the idea.  I liked what it could do.  But I still wasn't sure I would do it.  Not until I heard Elder David A Bednar's talk on Sunday afternoon.  Lest you should think otherwise he did not say to join this movement.  He just said something that pricked my heart.  A few things really.

His talk was about sharing the gospel.  He said in so many words that sharing what has helped us in our lives is not unusual.  We do it all the time in many different ways.  We share pictures of things that make us laugh, stories that bring joy, household products that helps us clean better.  I mean come on people, we live in a world of sharing everything and we have the power to do so at our fingertips.

And yet.

When it comes to sharing the most important things in my life, I hesitate.  Not because I don't think they are worth sharing but because I'm afraid of being mocked, of having my heartfelt words and experiences trampled upon.  I don't actually know anyone who would really do that but the fear is still there.  And that's just silly.  Silly but not.

I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  I love it.  I love the role that it plays in my life.  I love the simple pure teachings of Jesus.  His love.  His compassion.  His courage.  His example.  I love and am so very grateful for the compassion and mercy that he shows towards me.  The compassion and mercy that I have felt and cannot deny.  

My life has not been easy.  No one's life is really when you get down to it.  We all have trials and times in our lives that make us show our metal.  We all have hard decisions to make, sometimes daily.  We all have experiences that are difficult whether of our making or not.

I used to go through some of these things and shake my fist at the heavens.  Wonder why they were happening to me.  What had I done to deserve these things.

And yet.

The things that have made me shake my fist are some of the very things that have caused me to learn and grow the most.  They have brought me closer to Christ and God.  They have brought me more peace than I thought possible.  While going through the trial it's often difficult to see the whole picture.  Really difficult.  However, as I look back on my life I can't help but see so many tender mercies.  So many things that I thought had gone wrong were really so very right.  I can see God's hand in so many things.  Enough to know that as I walk forward now, not seeing clearly the path before me, I know that I will be alright.  I know that as long as I do my best to follow Christ, to love those around me, to serve, to have compassion, to give the benefit of the doubt, to show mercy... God will take care of me and my family. He will light my path and help me become who he needs me to be.  Who he wants me to be.  

I know there will be more trials, more stretching of my faith and more times that I may be tempted to shake my fist.  But I also know that God is in the heavens and he has not forgotten us.  I know of his love and his intimate interest in my life and desire for my welfare.  And I know that it is not exclusive to me.  He is interested in all of his children, which is all of you.

I am a Mormon.  A Member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  I love it.  I live it.

The Most Eloquent Prayer

I have a friend who has a friend who has a perfect child.  A child that is kind and considerate and says thoughtful and meaningful prayers at the age of 3.  Prayers that make you say to yourself, "Man I'm glad I have this child, how lucky am I!"

As I listened to my friend who has the friend (confusing no?) the competitive mamma inside of reared up and thought "Eloquent prayers out of your child... I'll give you eloquent prayers out of a child.  Move over sister, a new kid is taking over."  And to prove it, I've decided to share a transcript of my child's eloquent and meaningful prayer at the young and tender age of 2 1/2 years.

Ahem.

Mom: Ben, would you like to say your prayers before bed?

Ben: No.

Ben falls facedown on the ground and doesn't move.  Mom takes this as a sign that he's ready to pray.  She leans over and whispers in his ear.

M: Heavenly Father
B: silence

M: Thankful for this day
B: Nice

M: Thankful for our home.
B: Nice

M: Please helps us be nice
B: silence

M: Help us to sleep well.
B: Sleep

M: In the name of Jesus Christ
B: looks at mom in frustration and says Daddy!

M: repentant of her neglect of family says Please bless Daddy
B: Daddy

M: Please bless Mommy
B: silence

M: Please bless Mommy
B: silence

M: In the name of Jesus Christ
B: looks at mom in frustration and says Toys!

M: Thankful for our toys
B: trucks

M: Thankful for our trucks
B: Nice

M: In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen
B: sigh

There you have it my friends.  He's a natural!  Perhaps someday I'll even make it into his prayers!  A mother can only hope.

M: smile Ben!
B: No.

Some Things About My Child

I have learned some things about my child.  Some necessary and sanity saving things.  Some things that from the outside looking in, might seem like I have no control over my child and there was a time when I would have agreed completely.  Thankfully for myself and for Ben, my understanding has changed.

Take today for example.  Today we were at Charlie's Ice Cream with friends.  It was a large group and there were only a few others who came in after we had settled down with our ice cream so we pretty much had the joint to ourselves.  There was music on the jukebox and the children were playing.  Ben was dancing to the tunes and running around playfully.  (Now I say playfully because I understand that to him, that's what it is.)  He was laughing and occasionally squealing with delight as other children played with him.  He squeals with delight if anyone, adult or child, plays with him.

After several rounds and the recapturing of shoes, David and I tried to contain the bundle of energy that is our son and head home.  He went down for a nap almost immediately.  There was one more round of chasing to be done before the diaper could be changed and he was ready for a nap.

As I sat in Charlies wondering at the energy of my son, I also marveled at how much I have come to accept him.  Not to be confused with "giving up" on him.  But really accepting who he is.  Before he was part of our lives I would never have even imagined myself letting a child run around a restaurant.  That's just not what you let your kids do.  They need to sit quietly and respectfully, not interrupting anyone else.  In fact I would have passed judgement on those who did.

But now?  Now I have Ben.  He is not anything special, he just has more energy in his little toe than I have in my whole body some times.  So here are the things that I have learned and come to love about my child.

1.  He needs to be social. He thrives off of it.  He is friendly and open and makes friends easily wherever he goes, no matter the age.  1-100 he's there to say hello and make a friend. When I keep him in the house too long (not in hours but in days) he starts to wither.  If we go more than 2 days without contact with other people, he starts to get ornery and whiny.  I've even thought he must be sick or something physical was bothering him, but the second he is in contact with someone else he's a changed person, especially if there is someone new to play with.  And I really mean the second.  He will practically drag friends away from their parents to go play with him.

2.  He needs to keep things light and playful.  He picks up quickly on whether I'm upset or even just too serious.  He tries to do things to put a smile on my face and lighten the mood around him.  This is especially apparent when he is in trouble for doing something wrong.  He quickly tries to divert attention to something that usually makes me laugh or smile. I used to think that he was trying to get out of being disciplined but have since learned that it's not the discipline but the "heaviness" of it all.  He wants me to be happy.  If I come down too harsh on him during these times I will not be able to reach him to help him understand what he has done wrong because he will be too busy trying to get me to smile again.  When I back off a little and take him to task gently, he's more likely to listen and make changes to his behavior.

3.  He needs to move.  Not likes or prefers, but actually needs to move.  It is who he is.  I simply cannot expect him to sit completely still during church.  I can expect him to be quiet during church. He can do reverent activities, but to just sit still?  Impossible.  It's like he has a quota of energy that needs to be expended every day.  He needs to take so many running steps, jump so many times, bounce and cavort around the room and crash into things with great vocal gusto.  He needs to move and shake and play and be happy and creative.

All of these things that I love about my child have been a challenge for me.  I do not need to move as much as he does.  Not even 10th of what he does.  I do not like to be out of my house all that much and I like to think about things seriously.  I'm not always happy, not that I'm necessarily sad but I'm just more serious than he is.  I'm not always up to being social and oftentimes would prefer to sit down and watch a movie or read a book.  Which means that sometimes Ben exhausts me.

What are my choices though?  Do I squash Ben's energy, his happy personality, the excitement and joy that he gets out of life?  Some of the very things that are essentially him?  I could have forced Ben to sit still at Charlie's.  He would have cried.  He would have fought me.  He wouldn't have been able to play with the other kids.  We as parents wouldn't have been able to talk to anyone about anything because we would have had to hold him in the vice-grip of death in order for him to sit still.  We would have ended up leaving almost immediately upon arrival and we would have all had a miserable time.

I didn't want that.  I wanted to enjoy my time.  So instead I let him run.  I let him brings a smile to people's face even as they thought perhaps someone should "sit that kid down".  But I honestly don't think anyone was thinking that.  I watched as he greeted people and most everyone answered with a genuine smile and even laughter.  I kept one eye on the people I was with and one eye on him.  When he sat down at someone else's table and started making the little girls laugh, I went and got him so they could enjoy their ice cream together.  When he started for the door to go outside and visit with another family, I wouldn't let him.  He needed to stay safe where I could see him.  He didn't like it, but he did obey.  He could play with the kids that were a part of our group.  When he starting playing in the drinking fountain I stopped him.  He has boundaries, they just don't look like what even I thought they would.

More important than me enjoying my time though, is the responsibility that I have as a parent to my child.  I do not want him growing up thinking that the very things that make him who he is, are wrong or bad or unacceptable.  I want him to always be that happy, social, fun-loving child.  The one who brightens a room.  There will be plenty of people and opportunities as he grows older that will make him question his worth.  He will second guess the things that are so natural to him.  I do not want that questioning to start with me.  I want to be his biggest cheerleader, honoring his unique perspective and abilities and who he really is.  I want him to be able to learn to work with his energy and meet his potential.  No reservations.

Wish us both luck!

My Inner Child

Yesterday was awful. I mean awful.  I felt overwhelmed in every aspect of my life.  I had several irons in the fire and not enough time to attend to all of them.  I hadn't been sleeping all that well and neither had Ben.  In fact he was up several times during the night and then decided to take a 45 minute nap rather than the hour and a half we're used to.

Ben was ornery and clingy.  I was ornery and distant.  We both had to be around each other longer and the to do list had thing that just needed to be done.  The setting was just right for the perfect storm.

It hit at about 7 that evening.  The kitchen was a mess, there was flour on the floor that needed to be vacuumed up, and every room in the house was in a state of disarray.  Every.  Room.  Laundry, cushions, toys, papers, crayons... everything everywhere.  There was no sanctuary.  No place of order to hide and calm down.  Just chaos and a child whining and clinging to my leg constantly.  Constantly.  I had to pry him off to use the bathroom.  Noise noise noise noise noise!

My patience had been used to the very last drop. There was no reserve, no bottom of the barrel to scrape.  It was just gone.

I handed Ben off to David who was equally tired and spent and began trying to find some order in the chaos.  2.5 seconds later Ben was at my skirt whining to be carried and I just could. not. do it.  I exploded.  I let out a primal yell all my own, stomped on the floor, and had the grown up equivalent of a two year old fit.  The reaction it caused would have made James P Sullivan of Monsters Inc. fame proud.

Ben ran scared to David for comfort and I felt like a monster.  A monster of a mother who lost her cool in a big way.  A monster who scared her child rather than comforted.  A monster who stomped and yelled and caused disarray.

David quickly took Ben out for a walk and I rampaged around the house throwing things to get them in order, cleaning like a mad woman and working very hard to calm down.  Bewildered by my own reaction and scared of myself. By the time they got back I was able to hold it together and apologize for my behavior.  I felt ashamed and a little lost.

Now for today.

Today was better.  Today I decided that the to do list could go and to do itself.  The important things got done and the never ending list of other things did not even get thought of.  I went for a walk with my son this morning and let him take the lead.  We ended up at a nearby park and he decided when to go home.  We had lunch on the deck with David and we all laughed with each other.  Ben went down for a nap and I went to the temple.

At the temple I regained some perspective and asked for my burden to be lightened.  There was nothing to take away, but God could bless me not to feel it so heavily upon my back.  I listened.  I asked questions in my heart and received direction and answers.  I came to understand more about the blessings and the power of God in my life.  About the Priesthood.  About men and women and why we work well together and why we have to work together.  I asked to be a better mother to my son.  I left with peace in my heart.

It was hot when I got home.  Hot enough to put Ben in his swimsuit and put a pair of shorts on myself.  I threw propriety, caution, and my own inhibitions to the wind and Ben and I got soaked in the sprinklers together.  We played outside all the rest of the afternoon and walked around the neighborhood in wet clothes, sunscreen, and the best big floppy hat in the entire world.  I felt like a kid again.  My body remembered the feel of the never-ending Summer days spent outside, playing in the water, listening to the wind in the trees, and feeling the sun warm my wet skin.  Ben's belly laughs as he took control of the water and sprayed me down made it even more magical.  I showed Ben how to leave wet swimsuit marks on the porch which was amazing to him.

I do have an inner child and for the first time in a long time it has been let out to see the sun.  It was free.  I was my child's best friend today and we both enjoyed our extended time together immensely.  There was no whining, no patience drained.  In fact it was hardly even tapped into.  Ben chatted away happily at dinner time and the whining of yesterday was replaced by laughter today.

Today was a gift.  I hope tomorrow will be one too.