6 Facts and a few other things

Fact:  job hunting is emotionally taxing.

Fact:  I'd rather not think about it, but I do.  ALL.  THE.  TIME.

Fact:  some day's are easier than others.

Fact:  we have a loving and supportive extended family.

Fact:  we have good friends.

Fact:  helping others helps me realize that things could be much worse.  (For a family I know, things ARE much worse.)

The End.

Okay, so it's not "the end" (unfortunately).

I've had a difficult time putting what I'm feeling and what's going on into words.  I can't find the words to satisfactorily describe my emotions.  I think if I tried, I'd use so many words that my ideas wouldn't present themselves clearly ...

It's easier to write and think about other things, so I do.

Things like how much fun it is to dance to favorite songs with Little Miss, B getting 100% on a math test and cuddling with my Mr. on the couch; things like this fantastic family picture taken at a family reunion in Minnesota.  When I think about things like that, I smile.  Then I remember what I need to remember in one word.  One PERFECT word.

That word is:  HOPE.

Handprints

My children cannot resist a clean mirror.  If one is within their reach, they feel it their duty/obligation to either lick, rub their nose or place their hands upon it.  This week, I learned to love the handprints my children leave on our clean mirrors.  This week, I saw this and instead of groaning, I thought about how precious little hands are.    

As I stared at it, I felt my heart grow.  I love my children so much.  

I'm so glad motherhood, fatherhood and ETERNAL families are part of The Plan.  

I'm grateful for experiences which turn greasy smudges into little reminders that there are happy children in our home ... 

Girls Camp

Today, the high temperature was 102.  The heat index reached 118.  A substantial pile of camping stuff is sitting in our van.  My living room is home to a smaller one ... 

For the past two days, my mother-in-law (she is visiting from out of state) spent time making 72 neck buddies for people she didn't know. 

The temperatures for the rest of the week aren't going to fluctuate more than a degree or two and yet ... and yet I, along with about 150 girls and women, am going camping.  IN TENTS.  OUTSIDE.  IN.  THE.  HEAT.  

All of this is in preparation for one thing:   Girls Camp.  I love to camp, really I do, but this year might be the most daunting camping experience I've had ... And yet, I'm going.  Why?  Because I was asked; because I want to; because I want to show my kids that service can be fun and a little daunting, too.

Random sights and pre-dinner conversations.

Today felt like Saturday (there was no school and B stayed home the day before due to illness).  So we cleaned.  I asked the kids to pick up and put away the toys in their rooms - I didn't specify the location ... 

Upon entering Little Miss' room, I noticed what I thought was part of a popped balloon on the ceiling.  After closer inspection, I realized it was a sticky dinosaur.  

"Mom, I threw it on the ceiling!"

"Great ..."

So I took a picture!  The bottom image is the view had by Ms. Dinosaur-Sticky.

After cleaning, the Mr. and I tossed around a football while the children played on the playground.  Then we decided it was time to head in for dinner.

As we were cooking, the television was tuned to CNN because the Mr. and  I wanted to learn more about the earthquake and tsunami that affected Japan (we usually don't watch TV while making dinner).  Sometimes I forget we have an attentive 7 year old.  He asked me what was going on and I explained, in simple terms what happened on this morning on the other side of our globe.  I got a little teary eyed and he seemed a little frightened.  He asked what an earthquake was and we went the scientific route and discussed plate tectonics using a basketball and soccer ball (VERY basic - he's 7!).  He also asked about a tsunami.  So we explained that as well.  The TV was off by this point.  We explained where it could happen and he seemed relieved.  

(Interestingly enough, earlier today, before he found out about earthquakes and tsunamis, he approached me and asked if we still had our backpacks (72 hour kits) ready in case of an emergency.  He also asked about our fire alarm.)

What brings me to replay our pre-dinner conversation is this: I remember watching an episode of Sesame Street where they talked about natural disasters and how to comfort and explain their affects to children.  I remember watching it, I just didn't realize I'd use that advice so soon.  Tonight, I wondered if watching the news about Japan was too much for our 7 year old's mind and perception.  What do you think?

B's immediate response to the disaster wasn't fear.  This is what he said:  "Mom, if they're hurt, we can hop in our van and go help them!"  I tried to explain where Japan was in relation to Kansas, but without a map or globe, it got a little difficult.  I think I'll hit goodwill and see if I can buy a used globe ...  

After ensuring fear and other unease was dispelled, we blessed our food and ate dinner.  Once it was time for s'mores ... 

Any semblance of doubt and unease had completely disappeared; and except for 'mallows in hair, on shirts and fingers, it turned out to be a perfect night. 

As I was tucking B in bed, he whispered:  "Tonight was the greatest night, EVER!"

We want them to know ...

There are many things we want to teach our children.  Much of what we want them to learn/know is intuitive to human nature (I think).  Things like love, learning, humbleness, loyalty, forgiveness, service ... stuff like that.  Then there are those "other things" which for some reason or other is important to our family.  Things that maybe we've seen other children may not have or understand, we want our kids to know.  Lately, that "thing" falls under the "love" category.  I feel like we are surrounded by broken families.  Family's where parents speak to each other and of each other with such disdain it is painful to hear.  The subject on which we focus is really a question (can a subject be a question?).  The question we ask our children is:  Do you know Mom and Dad love each other?  I can't adequately explain the reason why we want our kids to know this.  Maybe it's our way of providing a constant.  Maybe we hope, by showing them their home life is normal and cared for in this respect, other troubles won't be so ... troublesome.  (I think most parents try to provide a constant, right now, this is ours.)

Yesterday, after asking this question, B said:  "Yes, I do.  Because you talk to each other, spend a lot of time together and kiss on the lips."  The last 4 words were said with a grimace (Ha!) ...

In a few weeks, the focus of what we want them to know may change.  I'm willing to bet on it.  Each week is so different that fluidity and flexibility is necessary.  BUT, I'm getting ahead of myself.  For now, making sure our kids know their Mom and Dad love each other is what we're going to cultivate.  

We hope it's intuitive, but here's a reminder, just in case it was forgotten:  We love our children.  We focus on that subject everyday.

2.24.2011 - Muffins with Mom @ B's Elementary School

11.2.2010 - Graduation Picture Day

Memories

I've been thinking about our life in Salt Lake City.  When memories emerge, I don't think of everything at once, just little snippets.  Images really, of happy moments.

For something to do and because it was free, we used to ride the train (trax) a lot.  B loved riding from wherever we got on (usually at 21st) to either end of the line and back.

When the Mr. wasn't working, in class, or studying, he would join us.  This memory makes me happy because I remember the expression of wonder on B's face.  This particular train ride was especially fun because of our destination.  We were on our way to a Real Salt Lake v. Real Madrid soccer game.

We got to see Beckham at his best - before he joined the Galaxy.  ;)  

Our favorite trax destination was Temple Square ...  In truth, it is still our favorite trax destination.

To be honest, it was the ride that brings the biggest smile to my face, not so much the destination.  I'm sure there's a lesson there, but right now, I'm thinking about trains and expressions.

Counterintuitive

The common analogy:

Imagine a table.  On that table is a pile of sand, a pile of pebbles, a pile of rocks and an empty jar.  Your instructor tells you all the piles will fit into the empty jar.  How do you do it?  If you put the sand in first, the rocks and the pebbles won't fit.  You find similar results if the pebbles are placed first.  Through trial and error, you learn that rocks need to go first, then the pebbles.  After those two things are in, the sand falls into place and you discover your instructor was right about the piles and the jar.

I've always liked that object lesson.  Whenever a teacher uses it, they're usually talking about budgeting time, creating priorities, etc.  When I would think of the lesson, I'd usually liken the rocks to those things that matter most.  Things like spending time with my family, daily scripture study, daily prayer, etc.  The formula was rocks = MAJOR things.  In this object lesson, sand was always stuff like laundry, dishes, vacuuming, taking out the trash, cleaning the bathroom ... All those things I don't like to do, but have to do = sand.  The pebbles are like cooking, running errands, grocery shopping.  That's how I used to look at the analogy.

Today, I view it differently.

This week, in my coming and going, I've discovered what my ROCKS really represent and what my SAND really represents.

I realized my previous interpretation was wrong.

Every morning, I awake with an empty jar.  I spend the day trying to fill it.

I used to focused on my family, study, cooking, running errands and grocery shopping.  Still, I was unbalanced.  I felt frustrated because I'd do all of the big "ROCK" stuff and I still came home to a messy house, a pile of laundry, my son would wake up looking for socks because I forgot to switch the whites and I still wouldn't have time to spend the quality time I so desperately wanted with my children and husband.  I was forgetting to send out important e-mails and I even missed important meetings.  The "sand" just wasn't falling into place.

I was at my wits end trying to figure out why I couldn't do what used to come so easily to me.

Last week, I decided to change things up.

I decided after I woke up, fed the kids and got B-Man off to school in the morning, I'd spend some time to do the dishes (this takes 15 minutes), fold and put away the laundry (20 minutes), tidy up the house (15 minutes) and make the beds (5 minutes).  I realized, doing all of that - 55 minutes of work - left me with the time to focus on my family and study the scriptures - today it was the Ensign - in PEACE.  In other words, when I spent time with my family, I wasn't constantly thinking of "all the other stuff."  "All the other stuff" was done.  My house was clean, the kids had socks to wear, I could make dinner without having to wash dishes first, and I knew where to find the books we needed.

I've been thinking about what the difference was.  Then it hit me.

The rocks in my jar aren't the MAJOR things.  They are things like having clean dishes so when it's time to make dinner, I can do it happily and focus on my child who is doing homework at the kitchen table rather than focus on those blasted dishes and the fact that they don't clean themselves.  It's folding laundry and matching socks so my kids have socks they could easily find in the hustle and bustle of our mornings.  It's tidying up the house so we are prepared to have an impromptu picnic on the living room floor without having to move a pile of stuff.  It's making the beds so at bedtime, rather than making sure the blanket fits just right, we have more time to read stories and snuggle our sweet, Heaven sent babies.

My SAND is what's really important.  Devoting 55 minutes every morning gives me TIME.  Not just time, but time that isn't littered with thoughts like, "When I'm done with this, I have to _______."

 ...

Tonight, as we studied scriptures with our children, we read these words:

"By small and simple things are great things brought to pass."

The sand is smaller, it's simpler and it's what fills my jar after all the other stuff is put in.

I've said a lot.  More than I usually do.  Thanks for sticking with me.

Random Thoughts

So tonight, as we were cleaning rooms and readying the kiddies for bed, Little Miss was uttering sounds in succession with musical modulations of the voice (thank you dictionary!).  In other words, she was singing.  To us (the Mr. and myself), the melody sounded like that part from The Little Mermaid when Ursula - the villainous octopus - had Ariel sing into that seashell.  You know ... AhAHah, Ah AH ah ah ... you know what I mean.  So Little Miss is singing her Ahah's, which again, sound eerily like Ariel, though she adamantly denied she was pretending to be the Little Mermaid.  Her ruse was uncovered when she took a fork from her play kitchen, started combing (er, "forking?") her hair and continued with her song.  Again, we asked - the Mr. impressed me by asking Little Miss if she, in fact, held a dinglehopper (aren't you impressed?) - she denied she was Ariel and said she was using a fork.  Finally, and rather forcefully, she said:  "I not Little Mermaid.  I Princess!"  She tried to "comb" my hair, but I politely declined ...

Last month, when our home teachers came to visit, one of them brought a "Little People" Nativity set to use as a visual aid as we talked about Jesus Christ and the Christmas season.  Our home teachers visited us again yesterday and one of them asked what we had discussed last month, B-Man answered by saying, "Oh yeah!  We talked about that Jesus thing!"  Yesterday, I learned I get to remind B of the better word for "Jesus thing."

The Mr. is studying beside me as I type this.  Right now, he's reading from a book titled:  How to Start and Build a Law Practice.  No, we're not announcing anything, it's for a class.  What's random is the book from which he gets to study after the How To.  He's reading a Jodi Picoult.  She has not breached our walls until now.  I always thought it would be me who allowed her to enter our domain, but I was wrong.  Totally random, I know.

Finally, here is how our children look when they're tubing down a hill .... 

HAPPY.

Happy is what I'm feeling now and that's all.  :)

A Glimpse

Right now, I'm not thinking about the conversations we had as we made dinner, even though the conversation was fun.

I'm also not thinking about the delicious food we ate (the Mr. outdid himself once again).

I'm not thinking about carols sung, played on a piano, a sax or a drum.

First presents and Christmas PJ's are also not on the forefront of my mind.

Right now, I'm thinking about sleeping children and the first conversation I had this Christmas Eve morn.

Upon coming down the stairs, I noticed all the presents under the tree were stacked and organized into 4 piles.  (We encourage gentle Christmas gift shaking.)  I greeted B a good morning and asked him what he was doing ... He looked up at me and said:  "Mom, we have a lot of presents.  I don't think we need so much.  I could take like 4 and maybe we can give the rest away to kids who don't have so much."

From where do these observations come?  Why is my 6 year old, on the morning BEFORE Christmas, concerned with having too many presents?  At that moment, that little glimpse into what really mattered, I felt it ... The Christmas Spirit and my heart felt good.  So good ...

Santa came tonight, bearing a few more gifts.  Part of me wonders if the distance from family has created a desire for the Mr. and I to overcompensate with tangible presents ... Maybe.  Probably.  That is why I am so, SO grateful for our 6 year old who so humbly and unwittingly reminds us about priorities, especially during the Christmas season.  In his words, I knew we didn't need to overcompensate.

A few weeks ago, we had a devotional on service.  Since that night, B has been obsessed with knowing what is service and what isn't.  Tomorrow morning, I'll tell him his idea of giving away what he doesn't need is service.  I think it's more than that, I like to call it Charity ...

Right now, I'm thinking about two little children who are more thoughtful and altruistic than I have the courage to be and that thought makes me happy.

Merry Christmas.

Another Question

We ask a lot of questions ... Here's another one:  Have you ever felt unwell, but rather than rush to a physician, you decide to Google you're symptoms, only to discover you're dying?  Okay, so not dying.  Rather, the search results in so much information that it only serves to worry and confuse you? I'm sure the look on my face is something like this (replete with the heads emerging from my own):

Or this [we're still trying to figure out how to quell his desire to make this face; we don't try very hard because he's 6 and really ... we need these pictures for future leverage (i.e. "It's nice to meet a girl who's willing to hang out with our son.  We have some great pictures of him ...")]:

If you're to the point where the cause of your symptoms reach beyond the overwhelming "logic" websites have to offer, maybe it's time to go see a doctor.  By the way, we're not dying.  No one is dying.  (I guess if you look at that statement philosophically ... but that's beside the point.)  Here's the point: Google - and other search engines - hold an abundance, a cornucopia, copious amounts of information!  I love information, but hey, sometimes I need someone to help me sort it out.  Enter the physician.  Thank goodness going to a doctor's office isn't like Google.  They start small and lead to the big ... Are we the only one's who Google symptoms?