Raising My Garden of Children

Another school year is coming to a close. Normally I'm excited too usher in the summer, as it means having my kids nearby so we can try playing in the warmer weather.

This year feels rather bittersweet, however, as I am realizing just how quickly my children have grown. Starting next year one will be in high school, one in middle school, and the other two still in elementary.

I know it was bound to happen. After all, I'm no longer wearing diapers. Still, today my reality of raising a family boils down to this: it is so fleeting. I can still recall bringing home my daughter from the hospital, so shocked and amazed something that beautiful lived inside of me. Now she's talking of getting a summer job, what she wants to be when she grows up, what college she'd like to attend, if she'll go on a mission, and what sort of a mom she hopes to be. I think about how old she is and suddenly I want to stick her back on my lap and rock her to sleep. She could accomplish all of this in the next five years!

I had to drop J off at school early this morning as he needed finish up a report. He gave me a quick hug before heading off along the school lawn and all I could do was watch. Watch and sit in awe at the amazing young man he's become. I recalled how often his dad and I despaired thinking he'd struggle with school his whole life because he couldn't sit still long enough in class to get anything done. Yet there he was, taking responsibility for his work by getting to school early so he might attain a good grade. He has become so dependable and dedicated, which at times boggles my mind. J, above any of the kids, is our reader. He will gobble up a book in no time flat.


It never occurred to me that Mr. B wouldn't do well in school. What has surprised me is to know he's not still in preschool, my baby-faced partner in crime who never wanted to leave home and would only leave my side because I gave him a key chain with a picture of the two of us in it. Now he's riding his bike all over the place, more excited to be with friends than at home. He's excelling in many things and loves to torture his siblings. He'd definitely still rather be at home than at school, but only if he has a brother or sister to keep him entertained (I'm not quite enough any more).

And then there's this blue-eyed beauty. She absolutely takes my breath away - partly because she never stops talking. I remember not being sure if I was ready to have one more child. Our other kids were growing up, we were able to do an awful lot now that diaper bags and infant car seats were no longer a part of the mix. Yet how could life have been worth it without this little bundle of rowdy, chattering joy? Her birthday comes late in the school year, and I worried she might not be able to handle the social aspect of being in school (she's not quite queen bee there as she tries to be at home). Not only has she been an amazing influence on the other children around her, but she has excelled intellectually as well. Her mind knows no bounds and she almost reads better than many kids several years older. There is no doubt in my mind she needed to come when she did, and that she was prepared for life as the youngest with a feisty will and an attitude that knows no bounds.

These are my flowers in the garden of our home. At times I feel as though the world is passing me by, especially when I see the grand accomplishments of others around me. When I begin to wonder "what could have been" I am promptly reminded by the Holy Spirit that I am doing precisely what the Lord needs me to do in the here and now: raise these little (and not so little) ones to not only shine and blossom and allow others to enjoy their beauty, but to make certain they are strong enough to withstand the storms and droughts of life. At times they may wither, and for a winter's season they may hide away, but there is always a spring just around the corner and the promise of newer, more beautiful ways to bloom.

The Blessings Behind a Broken Microwave

WE...are a microwave loving family. From warming up pancakes in the morning and melting cheese over corn chips for some quick nachos, to heating up a bowl of Chef Boy RD and defrosting chicken, this quick-cooking contraption has long been one of our favorite kitchen appliances.

Our white microwave died earlier this year. We were heartily saddened at it's passing, as it had been with the family for a long, long, long time. Many years, in fact. Of course, things were made to last back in the days we purchased it. Not so these days, as you will soon read.

Out my hubby and I went searching for an awesome-possum microwave. The color didn't matter. We just wanted to find something from a brand we'd trusted in the past, and were willing to pay a mid-range price for it. Not too expensive, as we're not rolling in waves of money. Not the cheapest either, as that typically says, "I'll break on you in no time."

We ended up picking a black one by Emerson. I put down the name knowing full well the company has a reputation of being good, and our one bad experience won't keep me from purchasing it again.

I loved our new microwave. It had all sorts of buttons, and popped the kids' popcorn to perfection - a very important consideration in our house. All four of them had tons of fun using it, which may have contributed just a smidge to it's premature death.

That's right. Only six months and our beloved new microwave passed away, refusing to heat a thing. It'll happily blow cold air on whatever you want to stick in it, but no more heat.

Sadness, I know.

One thing I haven't loved , but will accept as there's nothing I can do about it, is the sudden increase in the amount of dishes we must now do. We are not ones who have an electric dishwasher. Two hands and a sink full of suds is how we get things clean.

Our utter dependence on this one appliance for the nourishment of my children became apparent as suddenly my kids began to declare there's "nothing to eat!" In truth I realized they were proclaiming, "We don't know how to eat things you don't cook in the microwave!" Here we come to blessing #1.

1. Mom's cooking things for the kids again. Whether it's warming up last night's leftover burger patties or mixing up some pancake batter, Mom has actually been in the kitchen, at the stove, actively participating in the feeding of her children. And since she's already cooking up things for lunch, why not get a few things prepared for dinner! Which brings us to...

2. The evening ritual of dinner prep isn't as hectic. Don't get me wrong, it's still hectic, just not AS hectic. Yet it has freed up enough time to enjoy having the kids come in to help finish putting everything together, like preparing a green salad, setting the table, and slicing up some veggies. Of course, that's all dependent on what we're eating that night.

3. Another unexpected blessing has come in the form of teaching the younger ones to use the stove. Both of my boys are old enough, but until now I hadn't taken the time to do anything about teaching them until the last two weeks. I'm not talking about anything huge, just warming up a can of spaghetti and meatballs or cooking up some Ramen noodles.

4. The last blessing I have noticed in this short time has been an increase of my children's gratitude for providing a simple meal for them. It may not be exactly what they want, but the fact that I took time out of my busy day to prepare something just for them has been noticed, and I've felt the increase in gratitude and love.

I'm still hoping we'll be able to get a microwave someday soon, but until then I find myself oddly happy that for a time our microwave is broken.

Could You Please Turn Off the Computer?

Earlier today my younger son, Mr. B, came in and asked if we could start reading a book together. Mr. J had just finished reading it himself and wouldn't stop telling his little bro about all the seriously cool stuff going on. Mr. B likes to have someone else do the reading for the most part, and seems to enjoy it when his Mama does the reading, hence his coming in to my room and asking.

Before Daddy came home and we left for a quick family outing, Mr. B would read one page, then I would read the next. After a while he was getting frustrated by the appearance of the others who kept grabbing my attention. He also wasn't digging the fact that I was trying to do something on my little computer at the same time, even though I proved I was listening to every word he read.

When Dad said, "Let's go everyone!" my little guy grabbed the book and said, "Should I bring it with us?" I said we'd better not, as we really wouldn't have a chance to sit down and read while we were out. At his disappointed look I promised, "When we get back home the two of us will read again."

Immediately he said, "Can it be just the two of us? With no one else?" I said yes, though I couldn't promise someone might need me here and there for the unexpected emergency...like not being able to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush. A feat not to be trusted to Dad, apparently.

"And can you please turn off the computer and just read with me?"

I laughed. I really did. He totally had my number. For a woman who was frequently after her kids for spending so much time on the computer and not doing other things, I was guilty of doing the same thing. From my lips came the sacred oath that, "Yes, honey, I'll turn off the computer and give all my attention to you and the book."

And I did :)

Teenage Girls

Just a quick funny.

The other day my husband went to pick up our teenage daughter and a few of her friends from school. The moment she got home M came into my room, plopped down on my bed, and said in a sorely afflicted voice, "Dad just doesn't understand what it's like to be a girl!"

Being the super understanding, serious minded mother I am, the first thing out of my mouth was, "I certainly hope not! We'll have a whole new set of problems if he does!"

She rolled her eyes at me.

Apparently I'm not as good understanding teenage girls either.

The Little Things

I have just returned from mowing my front lawn. This may not seem like something I should be boasting about. People have been mowing their front lawns for many a year before I was born. This one particular responsibility is not typically mine, however, and so the mere fact that I got outside to do something physical is in itself, noteworthy.

Since my extreme bout with depression many of the things I used to do with dedication fell to the wayside. Even as I am doing so much better there are certain things I have not been able to push myself to do. For example, the checkbook. I used to monitor the checkbook on a weekly basis. Any receipts would be promptly accounted for. Checks were cataloged. And the balance would be compared to what the bank actually claimed we still had. I could tell you within a few dollars just how much we had to spend. And once a month I would carefully reconcile all accounts.

For the last several months my husband has had to take over this job. I don't know what has changed so much, but the moment I would sit down to take care of things, like a trigger my mind would immediately rebel and I could not physically make myself do it. I hated to admit this, as my darling hubby had already needed to take over so many other things, but he knew and without a word he began to do what I could not.

Over the last few days I've been thinking about the little things we do to tell those we love the most just how precious they are. My children often utter the words, "You're the best", making my heart squeeze with joy. In return I've been trying to be better about finding little ways to let them know they're the best in my eyes. It's not always easy, as it means an awful lot of sacrifice on my part, but I can wholeheartedly testify it has been worth it.

This morning I have found myself with what my family has coined, "Mom's alone time." I've been trying to decide just how to spend it. There's definitely not a lack of things I could/should be doing. In fact there are about thirty things I should be doing besides sitting at the computer boring you all with my random thoughts.

I sat down to write today for one really big reason: I love my husband. And because I love him I chose to mow the front lawn so he wouldn't have to. It will be one less worry for the week. He has taken on so much to help me through some very difficult times - and that's not including all he's facing at work and church. But he's done it because he loves me as well. That's one of the most wonderful aspects of showing love: it's give and take.

I cooked dinner for my family last night. My hubby washed most of the dishes, then Mr. B took over and did the rest of the dishes. Miss M helped me to accomplish some things with our family home evening last night and Mr. J tidied up the living room. And what of Miss A? Well, she gives the best hugs ever.

Love is a wonderful thing, but those around us may not know we love them unless we put those four little letters into action. Don't just say the words. Live the words. Your actions don't have to be grand gestures. Sometimes the biggest ways in which we feel loved, are due to the little things.

Adoption: The Gift They Cannot Give Each Other

I have two wonderful friends who are so very dear to my heart. For many years now they've tried and tried to have a baby, but God has asked them to try a different path to seek their goal. Almost a year ago they began the road to adoption.

Adoption is a wonderful thing, even if it does come out of difficult circumstances. There are many in my life who have had the opportunity to adopt, and many more who are hoping to adopt one day. But this particular couple are on my mind in such a fashion I cannot think there is a baby about to be born who is meant to be a part of this glorious family.

I don't know that the answer to their prayers will come through this blog, but if I had the chance to further their opportunity to have a baby and did nothing about it...well, I couldn't very well live in peace.

I am putting up a link to their adoption site, and pray someone out there who knows of a baby in need of a family will take a good, hard look. For those who don't, I beg you will include them in your prayers. There is nothing these two want more than a little one to raise, and the love they can provide him or her is immeasurable.

Before the link, I want to share the lyrics to two songs written by a Christian musician by the name of Michael McLean. He has been one of my favorites for years. One day he received a phone call from a young woman who asked him to write a song for her and the baby she had chosen to let someone else raise. The first song is his inspiration. Later he penned another song, this one done through the voice of an adoptive mother who was so grateful to have received a gift she and her husband could not give each other. Please, stop and read these lyrics, and think about what you can help give to these friends of mine.

From God's Arms, To My Arms, To Yours

With so many wrong decisions in my past, I'm not quite sure
If I can ever hope to trust my judgement anymore.
But lately I've been thinking, 'cause it's all I've had to do.
And in my heart I feel that I should give this child to you.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

If you choose to tell him, and if he wants to know,
How the one who gave him life could bear to let him go;
Just tell him there were sleepless nights; I prayed and paced the floors
And knew the only peace I'd find is if this child was yours.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.

Now I know that you don't have to do this,
But could you kiss him once for me
The first time that he ties his shoes, or falls and skins his knee?
And could you hold him twice as long when he makes his mistakes,
And tell him that he's not alone, sometimes that's all it takes.
I know how much he'll ache.

This may not be the answer for another girl like me;
But I'm not on a soapbox saying how we all should be.
I'm just trusting in my feelings and I'm trusting God above,
And I'm trusting you can give this baby
Both his mothers' love.

And maybe you can tell your baby
When you love him so that he's been loved before;
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.


The Gift We Could Not Give Each Other

When she was a little girl she held her dolls like children
Dreaming of the day when she'd have babies of her own.
Now those dolls lie on a shelf as lifeless as the dreams she dreamed.
It's become the deepest ache her heart has ever known.

There's a man who's trying his best to comfort her with roses,
Telling her he'll find a way to make their dreams come true.
He's been saying this for years, but now his tears reveal the truth.
In his heart he fears there's nothing else that they can do.

Then a gift is given, a phone call straight from heaven.
There's a child that's nearly due that a young girl's giving you.
She gave more than just one life
When she makes of this man and wife a father and a mother.
She gives the gift they could not give each other.

More than we could ever know this couple thanks the heavens.
Every time they hold their child, they feel they hold the world.
Words will never be enough to share the way the family feels.
From deep inside their hearts they want to tell that girl:

Not a day is ever through till we've thanked the Lord for you.
Your sweetness lingers near in our hearts and thoughts and prayers.
You gave more than just one life when you made of this man and wife,
A father and a mother.
When you gave the gift we could not give each other.
You have changed our lives forever.

Only you and God above could give this gift of love
We could not give each other.


Please, please, help God give this gift to Brian and Erin.

My Mother

During the month of August I have the awesome opportunity to celebrate the birth of one of my all time favorite people: my mama. Seeing as how August is almost over, I figured I'd better sit down and get to telling you about this amazing woman. After all, she is the woman who gave you all me :) Heheheeee.

My mother was born in the small town of-

Just kidding. Not going for a biography here. Instead I'd like to share with you some memories I have of this, one of my greatest heroes.

I remember having chicken pox as a kid. They were worst on my feet. My sweet mother would kneel next to the couch and very carefully dab on the lovely pinkish anti-itch medication. You may not think it, but there was a lot of love in every single one of those dabs.

It certainly wasn't the first nor the last time she took care of me while I was sick. She has cradled me in her arms, soothed fevers with a gentle touch, cried along with me as I received shots, sat in the hospital as I had stitches put in my eyebrow, held my hand as I lay in the back seat of our car while my daddy drove to get me to the hospital when my appendix needed to come out.

One evening, when I was a bit older, my younger brother had been driving me up the wall, down the wall, and maybe even across the ceiling a few times (sorry bro, but it's true). My cute mommy saw I was in need of some time away and took me to A&W's for a frosty mug of rootbeer, my absolute most favorite drink at the time. Because that's the sort of woman she is.

My mother worked at the high school I attended. I know there are some kids out there who would moan at the thought, but I never minded. Having her there was often a great comfort to me. I didn't always have an easy time during those four years. There was one particular girl my junior year who moved into the school and I befriended. She had some problems with socializing and ended up making my life, as well as the lives of many of my friends, utterly miserable.

One day I had simply had enough. I walking into my choir class and burst into tears. With a grateful heart I went to my mother and let it all out. She held me, as she has done all my life, and just let me cry. You see, I didn't know how to stand up for myself. I thought the best way to go through life was not to make waves. My mother has never felt that way. Over the next few days she talked with the teacher of a class this girl and I had together, she had one of the counselors who had met with this girl talk with me and another friend who was also involved about (without going into anything private) why this girl was the way she was, and basically just had my back! I don't know if she'll ever comprehend how everything she did at that time saved me.

She sat in the hospital room with me when my son had been taken from my arms, and was one of my greatest supports as we buried him just a few days later.

She has laughed with me countless times as we've chatted over the phone, and has become, as my teenage self would never have guessed, one of my best friends.

My mother is a strong woman. She'll be the last to admit it, will hem and haw try to think of other less-flattering ways to describe herself, but she is strong. She has had to watch as so many around her have been cruel to herself and to those she loves, as her family and friends have endured so much especially in the ways of illnesses, and through it all she has been a pillar of love, strength, and what it means to state the words "choose the right."

She doesn't think of herself as beautiful, or amazing, or anything special, and yet my world would be a darker place without her. I love her smile, her giggle, her beautiful eyes, and her curly hair. I love her hugs, her ability to cheer me up when I'm feeling down, and the way she can make a sandwich that actually feels like comfort food simply because "mom made it."

So Happy Birthday Mom: you are, without a doubt, extraordinary. And I will never let you forget it!

Changes

The new school year always brings about huge changes. It involves getting back into a new, or even old, routine. I'm not just talking about the changes made for the children who attend school, but also for those of us left here at home.

My youngest, Miss A, has had a summer filled with her two brothers and big sister. Her Mama (that would be me), has been kicked off the computer for several months until the later hours of the night as the children seem to think they need electronics to while away so many hot, muggy hours. The house has been noisy, messy, and gloriously filled with the laughter of my children.

Now we're bored here at home. Little Miss A and I are aaaaall alooooone. I know, your heart is just breaking for us ;) Miss A has been adjusting to having the television all to herself, as well as the freedom to bring in all her toys and play with no worries a well-meaning brother might pick one up and run off in an effort to "have fun" with his baby sister. She kinda really likes being able to have Mom all to herself (even if Mom spends a lot of time on the computer).

Okay so maybe it's me that's bored. Well, hmm. If I have to admit it there's PLENTY to do around here, but none of it sounds even remotely fun. Add to that the need to get up at six in the morning when I'd much rather sleep 'till about eight or so, and I'm having a hard time adjusting as well.

I miss my kiddies. Though they can occasionally drive up the proverbial wall, they are my heart. I love laughing with them, doing things together, seeing their faces light up when I suggest going to the library or over to Toys R Us to look around. I miss having an hour or so together read Percy Jackson, or another book, together.

Now when they all get home from school it feels a bit like chaos. Everyone wants to talk at the same time. They're starving and absolutely MUST get a snack - which always seems to turn into an almost meal - and will pounce on the chance to get back on my..uh..our computer. Dinner becomes a rushed affair and right after is homework. By the time we all get a chance to really sit down and enjoy one another, it's almost bedtime.

Still, changes are good for us, and my children really do blossom through their experiences with teachers, friends, and even those who are not so much friends. I think it makes us all recognize what a blessing we have in our little home of love, where arms are always open, snacks about, and Mom and Dad are ready with hugs before bedtime.

Girl's "Time Out"

The constant heat and humidity has been taking it's toll on all our tempers. I've been impressed with how well I've managed (no...seriously!), but could tell my daughter was a few hours away from a serious meltdown. Mom and Dad have been asking a lot of her lately, especially in regards to watching her younger siblings while we attempt to accomplish our various obligations, and I'd been thinking for a while she deserved a little treat.

By the time we got home from visiting a few church members today there were two extra boys on M's hands (friends who'd stopped over to play with my boys) and she looked pretty well done in. When a spider appeared on the ceiling just above her during dinner, I could tell from her complete and total freak out it was time to take her away from the house and see if we couldn't put a smile back on her face.

Granted I'm not much of a last-minute thinker, and our usual thing is to go to the mall (I know, original right?). Instead of wandering through the various stores looking at things we've looked at before, we headed over to the dollar theater. Fortune favored us in the form of a movie M wanted to see and it was only rated PG. So we bought two tickets for "Letters to Juliet."

Definitely a cute movie. There are certain things I would have changed - like less time on her dwindling relationship with one guy and more time on seeing the new relationship form, but still cute. Best of all is M had a good time. She laughed a lot, loved all the mushy lovey stuff, and just plain had fun being out with her mama.

It took me back to an experience I had with my own sweet mama. My younger brother (whom I flippin' adore...just want to make that clear) had been driving me more than a little nuts. Oh come on, that's the top job of a little brother. My mom could see I was at my own patience-limit, grabbed her purse, and told me we were leaving. Next thing I know we're at Hires sipping a root beer in those awesome frosted glasses. I needed that little outing with my mom. I needed that chance to just plain chill.

I'm so grateful for my mother. She is so hard on herself at times, in particular when looking back at how she raised us (as so many of us do), but she has always been exactly what I've needed. So when I see myself doing something for my precious girl that she had done for me, I know I'm being a good mama.

Oh the Anticipation

My youngest is preparing to turn a year older this week. She's been waiting for this day since her father's birthday back near the beginning of the year. Upon discovering there were several more birthdays (including a few extended relations), the thought of her birthday finally arriving was beginning to look like an unachieveable dream.

With some not-so-subtle hinting from her big sister, Miss A. at last decided she wanted a Tinkerbell birthday cake, and basically stuck to that decision...until yesterday. As we were flipping through the little book of ways to make sugar overloads even more fun by painting them colors and putting on toys so we can charge you more...

Wait, where was I?

Oh yeah. As we were flipping through the book we came upon a new and far MORE delightful cake decoration: a little Tiana and Naveen (from "The Princess and the Frog) picture with a toy ring. I have no doubt both toys will be relegated with great speed to the bottom of the toy box within the first 24 hours. But it's all to make the little princess happy on her birthday, right? Right.

Sunday Inspirations May 9, 2010

First and foremost, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!! And I don't care if you've given birth to a billion kids (owie), adopted or fostered a million more, teach children/youth, are an aunt, or have in any other way influenced a child for the better, you get to be celebrated on this day. And now for my dedication to mothers:

SHEDDING THE DAY

Michael took one look at his wife and ordered her off to their room. One by one he collected their three children and after much squealing, wiggling, and story-telling, got them all settled for the night.

He found his wife, Kayla, slumped on the end of their bed. He could hardly see her bowed and frazzled form under the millions of uniforms she'd had to put on today. Like an eternal day of playing charades, he thought.

With silent steps he slipped over to her hunched form, reached up, and took off the chef's hat. "Breakfast, lunch and dinner, not to mention a billion snacks in between," she whispered. Kayla had never even boiled water before they married, and now most days found her feeling like a short-order cook.

One by one Michael peeled off the military boots. "It's not like the beds were going to make themselves," she sighed. It was no fun acting the part of drill-sergeant. He admitted to being surprised she could get the kids to tow the line. Her heart was so soft she should have been a pushover. Not his Kayla.

He pulled off the horn-rimmed glasses and pried the calculator out of her hand. "Balanced the checkbook. We're good for another month," she said. Though she had a good head for numbers, taking over the household finances had been daunting. He'd kept her at it, though. That was something his father had taught him to do, in case the unthinkable happened. She needed to know how to take care of things.

The apron slipped off her hunched shoulders and dropped from her slim waist. He took his time in taking the rubber gloves off her hands. "I'm only using paper plates tomorrow," she said. "He chuckled. "Too many dishes?" She nodded, at last able to move her head. It was a good sign when she began to joke.

The weights strapped to her ankles plunked to the floor. "Walked a mile in 'em. Look at those calf muscles. Pretty soon I'll make Popeye jealous." He watched as she stretched her long legs, and thought about how many unnoticed miles those legs walked during the day, taking her here, there, and everywhere, all in behalf of her family.

Michael noticed her unnaturally bulging arms. There was no way those make from lifting weights. He reached up her sleeves and began pulling out a dozen little socks. "And everyone thinks the dryer eats them," she said with a laugh. "I'll take care of them later," he promised.

It took some effort, but at last he worked off the doctor's coat. "Three scraped knees, a bump on the head, and a cut lip," came her faint words. "Typical day in the Thompson household," he said. She smiled. This woman hated the sight of blood, but it didn't stop her when the children were hurting.

He was surprised to see the carpenter's belt hanging off her hips. "I finally got the shelf up in the kitchen." Michael had offered to do it a hundred times, but she insisted on doing it herself. Perhaps she was taking the self-sufficient thing too far.

The next coat was hard to get off. It contained countless buttons, laces, and buckles, as if it were purposely hard to shake off this role. Though it had started out white, the hearty fabric was now covered in several years worth of sticky hand prints, slobbery kisses, dried up tears, and hundreds of cuddle-causing wrinkles. Kayla didn't say a word as he at last worked her arms out of the sleeves. It was never easy for her to take this coat off, but he placed it gently on a chair next to the bed in case she had to quickly put it back on in the middle of the night. Emblazoned on the back in big, colorful letters was one, short word: MOM.

Only one thing remained. It stayed until they were both ready for bed. He hoped this role felt like more of a comfort than a burden, but sometimes he wasn't sure. She wore the lovely pink shawl as they talked, embraced, and prayed together. Just as he was about to drop off to sleep he heard his wife kneel on the floor, where the shawl labeled "Wife" slipped from her shoulders.

Her smile could be heard amid her sigh of, "Father, it's me. Just me."

Oh No. Mom's Flirting Again

I was having an awesome day yesterday - just plain oodles of fun all around. It had been a lovely morning with the kids, we went to Costco for a cheap lunch and met up with my sweet friend Debbie, had a wonderful afternoon together, then decided to hit up McDonald's for dinner just so we wouldn't have to create dishes to wash.

My mood was up. And I'm talkin' WAY up. Make a bit of a fool of myself being silly, sort of up. So when the cute little male cashier was in a chipper mood as well we just started having fun bantering back and forth.

After paying too much money for food I didn't need, the family starting getting drinks and napkins and ketchup galore. We found a place to sit, daddy took the littlest to the bathroom, and M got a very serious look on her face.

"Mom, I'm gonna tell on you."

I had no idea what she could possibly be talking about. What did I do? Get her the wrong drink? Why did that constitute a bit of tattling? And precisely who was she going to tell?

"You," she said in a very serious tone, "were flirting with that guy."

WHAT!?!?! I burst out laughing. Then I laughed harder when I realized she was serious.

"I was not flirting," I firmly declared, but she would not believe me. Now you have to understand I'm not exactly known for my flirting skills. You can ask my husband. I'm way too open and up front, and will tell you directly how I feel. So the fact that my oldest thinks I have skills in this area doesn't exactly speak wonders for her future with boys (something I am far too happy about).

Rolling my eyes I went back to the front to wait for our food. The sheer idea of that boy (and let's be honest, he was WAY younger than me) thinking this pudgy, 30 (muffle) year old woman who has given birth to five kids and looks like it might be flirting with him almost sent me into another fit of giggles.

Whilst I waited my darling daughter did indeed tattle to her daddy, who - being the sweet, understanding, patient man he is - promptly began to tease me. And I - being the sweet, understanding, patient woman I am - began to tease our daughter.

By the end of the night I'm pretty certain M regretted saying anything about her mother flirting. In fact, if it were possible I'm also pretty certain she would have gladly dug a hole in the ground to hide until we were finished with the teasing.

When it was time to go we'd come to the conclusion it was time to start looking out for my next husband because my current one was obviously going to die soon. I was overjoyed he was willing to help me in my search. M declared she didn't want a step-father. Obviously this is something she's just going to have to deal with since I'm all ready on the look out for a replacement. It would also seem I'm on the prowl for a younger man with great cashiering skills and a bubbly personality.

So if you see me flirting with anyone, just beware. He could be my next victim. Mwooahahahaha...

Sunday Inspirations April 4, 2010

I hardly know how to begin today's post. Some of you have heard the basics of yesterday's adventure, one I'm still attempting to wrap my head around. Before I go into detail, take a moment to think about the people in your life you love, yet have a habit of taking for granted. Their constant presence in your life, no matter how precious you remember them to be, can end up becoming commonplace. They are always there, so there's no need to think about them not being there. Only when something threatens the commonplace do we remember what makes them so special.

Yesterday morning started out almost as usual. I say almost because it was General Conference Saturday, meaning my hubby was working and I was preparing to listen to the words of religious leaders which were being televised. My oldest had called her grandparents to see if she could spend the day with them, and had planned on riding her brother's scooter over to the house. About halfway there road construction had blocked off the pedestrian access and M found herself needing to return home. I was certainly surprised to see her walk through the front door, and when she told me why I promised to drive her over as soon as I finished something.

My back had been turned when I heard her say, "Mom, I feel weird." I turned to see what was going on. At first it looked as though she had tripped over a little stool, legs folding up beneath her. Only when my eyes flicked up to M's face did I realize something was really wrong. Her face went blank, her head fell back against a box I had in the corner, and she began twitching.

I screamed her name. Over and over again I screamed her name. I took her wrists in mine to minimize her movement so she wouldn't fall off the box and onto the floor. Her eyes stared at me, but didn't see me. The pupils were so small almost all I could see was their beautiful blue, and into my mind came the frantic thought, "Will this be the last time I see these blue eyes?"

I had no reason to believe she wasn't having a seizure. It lasted somewhere between 10-15 seconds - an eternity. I couldn't stop sobbing, repeating her name over and over. Her three siblings had come in behind me, though I was not aware of their presence. Nothing existed for me but those beautiful blue eyes. Just as quickly as it had began, she came out of it. Her eyes returned to normal, her body relaxed, and as consciousness returned she asked, "What happened?"

Only then did I see the blood in her mouth. Something else was in there, though I couldn't tell just what as it was covered in blood. I thought it might be foam, then when she started talking funny I thought she might have bitten through her tongue. It took several seconds before we both realized it was one of her teeth. Somehow she had ripped one of her permanent teeth right out of the gums, which were bleeding profusely.

I can't imagine what it must have been like to "wake up" to the sight of her panicked mother, not knowing what was going on, and having an intense pain in her mouth. We got her situated on the couch (a no-no, I realize now) and through my muddled and frantic mind came the distinct thought, "Call 911." I did. It didn't take long for the paramedics to appear. Our little living room was suddenly crowded with all sorts of portable machines and official looking men. J and A stayed around, asking lots of questions to some very patient men.

I began looking around for B, and caught sight of him on the top bunk in his room. Though I ached to see if he was okay, I was needed in the living room to answer lots of questions about what had happened. The men took M's blood pressure and pulse rate, both a little high but expected considering what she'd just went through. They had her finish pulling out the tooth so she wouldn't swallow it, then had me wrap it in a damp paper towel. She wasn't thrilled when they took her blood sugar, and I can't blame her for hating the experience when I saw the mighty bruise left behind.

At last they finished, confident she was okay for the time being. One guy kept asking me what I wanted to do, and I couldn't help thinking, "I'm the one having the crazy experience here and you want me to think clearly?!?!?!?!" I asked for their opinion, and together we decided she wasn't bad enough to go to the hospital, that instead I'd call her doctor and see what he said. The men collected their belongings, said goodbye to the children, and left.

My first thought was to call our dentist. The sweet man doesn't work on Saturday but was happy to meet us at the office to see if there was any chance we could save the tooth. It would take him about 45 minutes to get there, so in the meantime I called the doctor.

As the medical assistant asked questions we came to realize M hadn't had a seizure at all. Sometimes when a child faints he/she will twitch, and will even keep the eyes open. This is precisely what happened. Had it been a seizure she would have been unconscious or "out of it" for a good half hour at least. Instead she was instantly alert, as might happen with a fainting spell. Our best guess was she'd been dehydrated, and then had overexerted herself with the hurried ride home on the scooter. It didn't help that she'd recently had a bit of a cold.

Only when we'd figured all this out did I finally call my husband to tell him what had happened. I hated doing so, as I knew he'd be torn between staying at work and coming home, but I knew he needed to stay at work as it was an important and very busy time. After assuring him we were getting things taken care of, and that my crying was not an indication of me going into hysterics, we said goodbye.

My incredible sister-in-law came over to watch the other kids while I took M off to the dentist, who had told me to put the tooth in lukewarm water with a tiny pinch of salt. It was a little weird sitting with my daughter, looking at her permanent tooth (which has a wickedly long root to it!), wondering if it would go back in. My daughter has such a beautiful smile. I couldn't imagine it being marred by such a bizarre experience.

Not until the shots were being administered to numb up her mouth did I realize it had been so many years since she'd had a cavity M didn't remember what the experience was like. I think it sort of alarmed her just as much as the thought of having the tooth put back in. Dr. B was great. He managed to glue the tooth back into place by 'cementing' it between the two surrounding teeth. We'll find out tomorrow if our wayward tooth decided to bond back into place, or if we'll have to go another route.

Needless to say this experience shook us all up. On the way home we stopped by 7-11 to get M a big ol' Gatorade to help with the dehydration, and she began opening up about what happened right before she'd fainted. It happened so fast, with such little warning. She began to feel lightheaded, and felt a funny tingling appeared around her chest. Then everything went blank. The next thing she knew I was crying out her name.

We managed to survive the rest of the day. She bounced back fairly quickly while taking it easy, calling a few of her friends to tell them about her adventure. I tried to lose myself in listening to the second session of Conference while trying to get a few things done around the house like dishes and more laundry, all the while periodically bursting into tears. Every chance I got my daughter was taken into my arms and told how much she was loved. The moment her dad came home she was in his arms as well.

As I put the other three to bed that night, each sibling had to tell M goodnight, and that they loved her. That's when I found out why B was on top of the bunk bed during all the commotion. He was so scared something might happen to her he went immediately into his room to pray for his big sister. Words cannot express what this action not only meant to me, but to M as well.

That night she was scared to go to sleep, afraid she might not wake up. Because daddy had to go to work early again I took her into bed with me, where we read until she felt tired enough to just drop off.

Of course, she woke up just fine this morning :)

Over the last two days I couldn't stop thinking about my daughter, who has lived in our home for more than a decade. Her presence is a blessing in our lives, though sometimes we as her parents sometimes become more focused on the wrong things. It took the tiny possibility of losing her yesterday to recognize just how empty this house would be without her here. Even her siblings couldn't stop talking about all the good stuff she does for them and with them. Though I try to tell my children several times a day just how much I love them, it truly took an experience like this to remind me of why.

BOYS! (And Yes, I'm Talking About Mine)

Those who have known me for many a year may be a tad surprised to hear we now own an xBox, as I've always sworn I never wanted one in my house and that if my kids wanted one they'd have to earn it themselves. Several months ago my hubbs and I were concerned at the enthusiastic playing our boys did on our aged computer, and were thinking along the lines of picking something up to give it a break.

This was such a huge concession on my part, as I knew full well how easily hours could be wasted playing something silly and unproductive (hello - I am a Facebook junky after all). The thought of my kids sacrificing time outside to sit in front of the tv didn't seem like a good trade. However, at the time I put out the idea in my family newsletter winter was setting in, the kids were in the house more often than ever, and they were off-track. This translates into a whole lot of time spent on my computer!

My big brother and his sweet wife called me with some wonderful news - they had an old xBox with some games they were completely willing to give us. That's right! The entire system and games were a gift. How awesome are they! Though it took a bit of practicing how to be nice and share, and after a bunch of time-outs happened combined with a lovely set of rules, the kids were doing really quite well at balancing time outside (on nice days) with taking turns on their new beloved toy.

Until yesterday.

A friend gave the boys two of his old games: Lego Star Wars 1&2. J is ecstatic, but B got tired of them awfully fast. #2 had to be fixed so we only got it back yesterday, and J's whining side came out full force! He didn't WANT to eat dinner. He finished some homework at school all ready! What do you mean it's bedtime?!?!?! By the time he actually said goodnight to everyone we were ready to ban him from the xBox for the rest of the week.

A little before nine he came in crying. "What's wrong?" I ask (first mistake). "I just know B's going to wake up before I do and he'll get on the xBox and play what I don't want to play!" I had to try really hard to keep my eyes from rolling around in my head. What could I say? Certainly not "You've been whining all night long so I'm going to reward your behavior by telling you B can't play his own game in the morning before school?" Uh...no. But I was too tired to think clearly, and that's when I made my second mistake.

"Whoever gets up first gets to pick what game you play."

Dumb, Laurie. Major dumb! Know why? At four o'clock in the morning I hear someone cry out and think one of the kids' is having a bad dream. I jump out of bed and go into the hallway where the flickering lights of the television are coming from the living room.

"No way," I think. "Yes way," my inner taunter shouts back. Sure enough, both my boys are on the xBox. AT FOUR IN THE MORNING!!! I made them get right off, saying their dad hasn't even gone to work yet, and told them to go back to sleep. When I get up a couple of hours later they're back on the xBox. I wasn't sure if they'd even gone back to sleep until I talked to hubby later on this morning. Sure enough, when he left for work, they asked if they could get back on and play.

If the boys are even a little ornery with me tonight, you'd better believe they'll be getting ornery right back!

Fun With Big Sister

I never had a sister. I wanted one desperately but my parents gave me a younger brother instead. He's okay, I like him. I might even say I love him, but that might get embarrassing...for him.

My husband and I were nice enough to give our oldest, a girl, a younger sister. Into this sibling M has had a place to put into effect all her "mothering" instincts I was never able to do with my younger brother. And believe me I had those instincts as well!

One example of my frustrated efforts: my brothers were playing around one day and - as often happened - my younger bro got hurt. He was about eight at the time (I think) and still small enough to fit on my lap. So I sat him down, put my arms around him, and tried to get him to tuck his head into my shoulder. You know, as a child would it's mother. To my consternation instead of appreciating this tender moment he lifted up his head, gave me a disdainful look and asked, "What are you doing?"

I let him go.

Of course these days I've got all sorts of kids to hug and squeeze and kiss boo boo's better, and it really is fun for me to see my oldest trying to mother her siblings. There was a recent shift in the relationship between my daughters, one my husband made certain I documented with pictures, and I am so glad I did.

We typically have spaghetti on Sundays, and M enjoys the chance to cook it, under supervision of course. A few weeks ago M took the opportunity to teach her little sister something about the art of cooking spaghetti.

Here they are after the noodles have been cooked. A is helping M pat the sauce into the pan to warm up.



















And now they're mixing in the sauce together. Yum.



















Here's A showing us her "I'm so happy someone let me help" face.

Too cute, right? A loved it when we all thanked her for helping to make dinner :)

One of the biggest experiences I had with "sisters" was the year I spent at college with some of my school friends. One of our most favorite things to do was play with one another's hair. The other night I asked M to get me her brush so I could play with hers. Here's a little sampling.

Isn't her hair color gorgeous?!?! She keeps talking about wanting to dye it one day. I desperately hope she doesn't, and learns to appreciate just how beautiful it is.

Here's another braid I used to do to myself when I was a little older than her.

She really has fantastic hair for braiding. I just wish we had more time in the mornings to do things with her hair. Oh well. I supposed making sure she's not in her jammies at school is a bit more important.

One last "do." This time I had some fun making her look EXTRA pretty :)

Marvelous, isn't it? You can see it makes her VERY HAPPY!

Though I may not have had all the sisters I wanted as a kid, I'm more than blessed with sisters now. All my sisters-in-law have loved me and blessed me more than I could ever have hoped. The sisters in my various wards over the years have filled that lonely place in my heart more often than I could have imagined. As I grow older, I found my most favorite and beloved sister has become my own mother. How lucky can a girl get?!

In Love

"I'm in love, I'm in LOVE and I don't care who knows it!" (Name that Christmas movie?)

I'm about to wax mushy, so if you're not in the mood for sappy declarations of love you might want to move on.

It's true though - I'm utterly in love. My heart has been captured in ways I never thought possible. Not only is it entrapped, but it hopes never to be freed. Surely there has never been a love quite like this.

Okay so there has, but my heart is so full to overflowing this morning and I simply cannot start cleaning the bathroom until I have declared to the world my love.

I am in love with my oldest child, my first born, my daughter extraordinaire. I'm in love with her maturing personality, with the way she helps take care of her siblings, with her willingness to now finish the dishes so mom and dad can take a walk (even if it does mean she only washes the dishes in the sink and not the ones we weren't able to clear off the table 'cause certain little people weren't done yet). I'm in love with her constant willingness to share, in detail, every dream she had that night. I'm even in love with the way she happens to "remember a dream" she had who knows how long ago that suddenly coincides with something someone else said. I'm in love with the way she's picking friends who are more apt to support and love her rather than pull her down. I'm completely in love with the way she asks to read a new book with me even when we're not finished with the last one. I'm in love with the fact her favorite time of the day is around seven pm 'cause it means watching Ghost Whisperer with mom and dad.

I am in love with my J, my little ball of inattentive energy, who would rather watch other people play recorded video games on YouTube than go to the park. I'm in love with the way his face crumpled when he realized he had EXTRA homework, then lit up in surprise when he found out the extra homework was for accelerated students. I'm completely in love with his mischievous grin when he's pulling a really bad joke, and the way he protects his younger sister (even when she's screaming at the top of her lungs to "STOP IT!"). I am completely in love with the fact he can't wait to turn 12 so he can start going to priesthood meetings with dad (though he may not think it's as much fun when he's actually 12 and attending those meetings). I am in love with the way he can get just as excited over watching someone else open their presents as he can get over opening his own. I am in love with his sudden hugs and kisses which he rarely gives, and the way he'll play with my hair when sitting on my lap to watch me play the computer. And I am in love with the way he's learning that even though things come easily to his younger brother, HE needs to keep on trying and never give up!

I am in love with my youngest son, my B, who is more like me in temperament than any of the others, who has a heart as big and loving as the world. I am in love with his willingness to share with those around him, and his need to have some "alone time" just like mom. I am in love with his giggle, and the fact he doesn't mind being tickled so I can hear that **giggle.** I am completely in love with his hugs which he gives out freely, and the way he's got every one of his siblings saying, "Mom, Dad, you're the bestest in the whole world!" Though I am NOT quite in love with the way he teases his younger sister, I am in love with how he so willingly sits down to play Barbie's with her. I am in love with his great big bear hugs, and his slobbery kisses, and the way he'll play with my hand when I lay down at night to put his sister to bed. I am utterly in love with his very distinct sense of justice, of right and wrong, and of what he believes Heavenly Father and Jesus like and don't like.

Last, but certainly not least (as anyone who's ever met her can verify), I am in love with my little Princess A. I am in love with her obsession with everything Barbie and High School Musical. I am in love with the way her talking has increased as of late, and every funny little thing that comes out of her mouth. I am in love with, and terrified by, the way she mimics those around her. I am beyond in love with the conversations between A and her daddy. I am in love with the way her little face crumples :( when she's told no, and even the way she'll get a hysterical sounding laugh when coming out of her tantrums. I am in love with the way she'll talk to her daddy, her siblings, and her grandparents on her little play phone. I cannot help being in love with her declarations of love, of the way she'll demand her brothers give her a kiss before leaving the car at school, and how she thinks mom's ears are pretty now because mom has earrings.

I am in love with them all because, despite the mistakes I make, they still love me with an openness I thrive on. I am in love with their sweet natures, and their willingness to learn and grow. I am in love with their tender spirits, which I know they all had before they came to this earth, and has little to do with me raising them. And I cannot end without thanking with all of my ♥heart♥ and soul my Heavenly Father for blessing me with four of my most favorite children in the whole entire world!

Taking a Moment to Brag

It's the end of the first trimester at school. There was no doubt in my mind our youngest of the school-age bunch had done beautifully. Sure enough, straight A's down the line and the best behavior around! He's such a studly little thing.

A few surprises hit us with J. Okay, so his C- in handwriting wasn't a shocker. Reading his scribbles requires a rosetta stone...on a good day. It was, however, a shock to be told of the results of last year's CRT scores on math. He tested TWO LEVELS above his grade! Can you imagine how puffed up my feathers were with that news?!?!?! I knew he was smart in math, though. As I've been helping him with homework lately I've watched as he does most of the calculations in his head. Oh, and by "help him with homework" I basically mean keep his attention focused on the work and not what Dominique (or whoever) did during recess that was SO FUNNY! Concentrate young man! He's also doing great in reading and has almost hit the level they hope the kids will reach at the end of the year.

What a little braniac encompassed in a tiny ball of overwhelming energy.

Last, but certainly not least, is our big girl M. No suprise to see an A in English/writing and science. What DID surprise us was the change in her grade in math. My eldest has not had the funnest times with math...it would not be a stretch to call them mortal enemies. It's one of those situations where if you don't stay on top of things you get a little behind. And then a little more behind. And then a lot more. We didn't realize how bad things were with her and math until about two years ago, and we've been playing catch up ever since. Getting her above a failing grade seemed like an impossible goal at times...UNTIL NOW! My daughter pulled off a C- in math, and could have gotten an even better grade if she'd gotten all her assignments in on time. OH what a good feeling :) I think she's in as much shock as we are. Needless to say, she got to watch an extra episode of Ghost Whisperer as a reward.

Oh what a proud parent am I :D

Face Your Fears!

For my birthday this year I asked to get my ears pierced. I've worn earrings for many years until I had a few babies who thought the pretty sparklies hanging from Mom's ears were toys to be pulled at will. By the time I thought of wearing earrings again the little holes had closed right up.

Many (many) years later I still have all those earrings in the hopes I might find myself able to wear them once again. They sit in a drawer, all sad and lonely, dreaming of being oohed and awed over. Too bad their sparkles are hidden under a layer of dust. Yeah, it's been that long.

My oldest has been flip-flopping around the idea of getting her own ears pierced for about two years now, loving the idea of having sparklies hanging from her own lobes. There's just one problem standing between her and this ultimate dream: the fear of actually shooting little rods through her ears. Silly girl, where does she come up with crazy ideas like this?

Instead of admitting her fear, M comes up with loads of other excuses. She can't find a pair she really likes; or she doesn't think she's ready to take care of earrings; the earrings might get lost; or her ears might become infected. I can understand each and every one of her reasons, but one in particular seems to pop up repeatedly. Fear.

Of course I'm not heartless and can understand that sort of fear. My concern stems around M allowing this fear to stop her from doing something she'd really like to try. Now I promise I'm not looking to force her into that chair and hold her down, blatantly ignoring the screaming of my firstborn until her ears are pierced. I simply want her to learn to face her fears, for one simple reason: I did not.

Growing up I was riddled with fears. So many fears. Add to this the annoying trait of being painfully shy, and I spent far to many years living with regrets. I regret not trying for more solos in choir due to the fear I'd be horrible and promptly rejected. I regret not trying out for Madrigals, the special singing group in our high school, as I was afraid of the time commitment as well as some of the other people who were accepted (you know, the mean popular girls). I regret not dating more due to the fear of doing or saying something stupid. Oh my, there are too many regrets to mention here.

So when I see my daughter not doing something she really wants to do because she's afraid, it plucks the strings of regret living inside me. Therefore, as a part of my birthday present, I asked all of my children to be present and watching as my ears were pierced. Hee, hee, hee.

To be honest it didn't hurt all that much. My hubby had to hold M in place and keep her hands off her eyes, silly girl, but I didn't even flinch. The next thing the kids knew I was done. Ears shot through with metal bullets disguised as sparklies. And you know what? M is thinking about getting them pierced again. Who knows, maybe she will...in another three or four years.

Sunday Inspirations October 4, 2009 AND Day 5 of Femininity

"I hope that my dear sisters throughout the world - grandmothers, mothers, aunt, and friends - never underestimate the power of their influence for good, especially in the lives of our precious children and youth!" ~President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Over this last week I've had my eyes opened, maybe just a smidge, or perhaps it's more I was given a series of witnesses to what the meaning of being a good and righteous daughter of God can do for those surrounding her.


The influence we as sisters in this world can hold is not something to be taken lightly, if for no other reason than we never know who is watching. In our little ward (local congregation) there are many sisters who are struggling in ways that feel as though it is too much to bear. It has more than one precious daughter of God wondering if He really cares, why He can allow such cruel things to happen, and why they are being asked to endure such heavy loads.


There are sisters who feel too overcome with the mission of motherhood. There are others who desperately wish to be blessed with just one child. There are some who fear they will be called to go through this life without a companion by their side, one who will be there for them, to love them and put an arm around their shoulders when life gets too hard. There are those who's family is all grown, who's beloved companion have passed on, and are feeling more alone than they ever thought possible. And there are those who are called upon to watch and care for desperately sick children or husbands.


Too often we might find ourselves overwhelmed by all that is asked of us, by the paths our lives take, or through promises that seem to go unfulfilled. I myself have had promises given to me through blessings given by worthy priesthood holders that are still unfulfilled many years later. At times I get frustrated, but more often I find myself needing to exercise faith. My Father promised me, and He will fulfill the promise, in HIS time.


More than anyone else the sisters, wives, and mothers of the world hold the greatest power of influence over the children and youth we come in contact with. Whether those children/youth are in our home, in our classrooms, or simply in our neighborhood, you never know who might be blessed by your choices in life. The spirit of our homes is determined by the women who reside there.


These last few days I've been stressing (more than usual) modest dress in our home (as is SO obvious from my billions of pictures). More than one morning my oldest has come out of her room in the morning wearing a skirt because she wants to look "pretty like Mom." As odd as it may seem, even my boys have become just a little more loving. All from taking a little more care of my appearance.


Twice this week I was given a special insight into how others view me. Sometimes I wonder - especially during particular Church meetings where it feels like we're more noisy than a good influence - if those around me know how hard I try. One friend said, "It's so obvious you cherish your children." Another sent me such a sweet and loving message I was in tears. In it she told me how she's watched me for years with my husband and my children.


"I'm amazed of your example on what a mother can be. Through hard times even you stayed strong... . I think it is a blessing from Heavenly Father that I have such an outstanding example of what I can be as a mother, a wife and a daughter of god. Your smile makes me happy no matter what mood I am in."


All this from simply being myself, from trying a little harder to be what I think my Heavenly Father wants me to be. Is it easy? NO! Am I consistent? Of course not! Ask my kiddies how ornery Mama gets now and again! However, no matter how bad a mood I'm in, how frustrated I get with life, nor how discouraged or distraught I may be, I never give up. I can't. I've been promised too much to let it all go just because sometimes life feels too hard to live.


The message I felt impressed to give can be told in the words of President Uchtdorf:

"May I invite you to rise to the great potential within you. But don't reach beyond your capacity. Don't set goals beyond your capacity to achieve. Don't feel guilty or dwell on thoughts of failure. Don't compare yourself with others. Do the best you can, and the Lord will provide the rest. Have faith and confidence in Him, and you will see miracles happen in your life and the lives of your loved ones. The virtue of your own life will be a light to those who sit in darkness, because you are a living witness of the fulness of the gospel. Wherever you have been planted, on this beautiful but often troubled earth of ours, you can be the one to 'succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees' (D&C 81:5).


"My dear sisters, as you live your daily life with all its blessings and challenges, let me assure you that the Lord loves you. He knows you. He listens to your prayers, and He answers those prayers, wherever on this world you may be. He wants you to succeed in this life and in eternity."

To this I would only add, be aware of your choices. We choose every day how we will respond to the roadblocks placed in our ways. We can wallow in the misery these roadblocks can bring, or we can choose to climb over them, keeping our faces lifted up to the Lord.


Now, on to my day 5 of Femininity. My thoughts have been focused so much on my family these last few days, as I've been counseling with a sweet friend who is struggling with being unable to have children herself. So I decided today's pictures needed to include some of the most precious things I have been asked to watch over in this life.

I couldn't get M to smile sweetly today, silly girl.

So we all started to make faces. Here we are with "angry" faces.

And crazy faces.

Funny kids.
I put on my cardigan this morning. Doesn't it complete the outfit?

And here are those curls I talked about freeing :)

I should have my daughter take my picture more often, lol.

Free Time

Ah ha! At last. After an extended holiday weeked I finally have the computer all to myself. I can wile away the hours doing nothing but - huh? What's that baby? You need some more chocolate milk? Okay, hang on....

As I was saying. There are hours to be spent doing nothing but what silly little things come to - yes baby? You have a poopy diaper? Oh all right. Let's go change you....

Where was I? Oh yes. I can do anything I'd like to on here, what ever silly little idea that pops in my head like play on Facebook, or watch some really old episodes of Gilligan's Island or - yes my sweet girl? You need a blankie? Well we just happen to have one right here....

All right. Uh...oh yeah. I can watch some fun old shows or look up little crochet ideas or - yes little one?! You've lost your milk? Hmph (patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue)! All right, let's go look....

Wow. Okay. I can watch episodes of old shows or...or...(not going to interrupt me?) or look up ideas or write a bit on my sto- (IlovemydaughterIlovemydaughterIlovemydaughter) Yes? What do you need now?! You want to get dressed? Seriously? Let's go pick out some clothes....

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....

....

(In a whisper) So I could write some more on my story or-

What do you want now?!?!?!?!?!

Oh.

I love you too sweetheart....

Hmm. Gotta go. I have a chance to cuddle with my daughter.