Home school P.E.

These kids make me smile!  We had the best time making leaf piles to jump into!

Nice Girl

Lizzy was asked to homecoming this year.  I had one weeks notice to sew her a dress.  Thankfully a dear friend has blessed me with a generous supply of cloth, which was formal wear appropriate. As I shared the pictures on my beautiful daughter with friends and family, one comment stood out to me.  A friend said "You can just tell she is a nice girl."  She is.  She is very much a nice girl. I am so thankful for my daughter who represents us, and her Father in Heaven well.  Her beautiful spirit is evident in everything she does.  She is amazing.

Thick skinned.

I wish I was.  I am not.  I am sensitive and my feelings get hurt rather easily. I rarely ever hold a grudge, and I try to love the other person, even if they have hurt me.  However, I never seem to be able to avoid the churning sick feeling in my stomach and the sting of tears in my eyes after someone says something hurtful.  This morning, after a rather rough night I logged into facebook.  A cousin of mine had said some very unkind things about my grandparents.  He might as well have hit me physically, because the pain I felt was far more painful.  These are people I love, I admire, and I have an incredible desire to protect.  I know that if my grandmother saw those words she would be devastated.  Part of the reason why it hurts is that I feel the raw hatred that my cousin is harboring.  He has cut of any chance of allowing the Atonement to work in his life.  So much so that the hate is spreading not only to the people who have wronged him, but to those who were innocent as well.

  This is my way of restoring balance....I'll share a little bit about the wonderful grandparents I have.  When I was little my grandpa use to take me in the Semi truck with him.  I would sit in the sleeper and color while he told me stories.  Once in a while he would ask me to watch for deer.  Every once in a while I would call out "Jumping deer, Grandpa!  Jumping deer!"  It took several miles of this before he finally figured out that the deer I was seeing was on a sign on the side of the road.  Another time, when I was a teenager, Grandma and grandpa picked us up from our home and we drove through Utah on the "Scenic route."  We stopped at every little look out and monument. we took two weeks just to explore the little known places of the state we lived in.  We spent hours just talking.  Grandpa told me that he once nearly lost his drivers licence because he had been in 20 accidents in less than a year.  When they investigated they found out that none of the accidents were actually his fault.  Grandma used to go on walks with us.  It was always under the guise of being healthy and loosing weight.  However, we always walked to the nearby grocery store, bought a doughnut and walked home licking the sticky glaze off our fingers. My grandparents moved away when I was a teen, and I missed them so much.  My grandma didn't have much money, but always on our birthday she would call us, long distance from California, before she went outside to feed the animals.  We always looked forward to that 4:30 AM wake up call to wish us happy birthday.  

I was looking for a better picture of my grandparents, when I found this gem.  It was taken in May 2000.  My Hubby had just baptized my grandpa.  I was four days away from my due date.  

Back to school

This week was back to school for us.  Well, for the oldest two.  I wont even pretend to be happy about it.  I love having these two at home and miss them quite a bit, since back to school doesn't just mean 6 hours a day, but extra sports practices, and home work and labs, and projects.....I could go on.  My daughter is a senior and my son is a sophomore   (I don't even want to think about what next year means for us with a college student that I actually never get to see.)  In the mean time they are happy and excited about this new adventure.  Here are their back to school pictures, taken at the crack of dawn. They are just so cute, and fun and such good friends.  I'm such a lucky mom.

The Friend Problem

I was never the child that had a lot of friends.  Most of my life I have had a small, tight knit group of 3-4 close friends.  I was the "Maintainer" of the group, the mama bear.  I am the one that makes sure everyone is happy and taken care of.  When some one is sad and needs a shoulder to cry on, they turn to me.  If they are mad, frustrated or annoyed, they vent to me.  If someone disappears, I got and find them.  If someone is not included, I reach out to them.  For the most part, I am good with this.  It fits my personality well. I am not fun, and not adventurous.  I tend to be on the shy side of things, and it takes me a while to adjust to new settings. (Man, I really sound lame.)  So I realized something else recently and it is really bothering me.  I am the un-important friend.  I mean, if you were to ask me who my best or closest friends were, I would name off a couple people.  However, if you were to ask those people who their closest friend is, they would name other people.  I am generally forgotten until someone has one of those needs that I listed above.  And now, I not only sound lame, but I sound selfish.  :-(

Lets work on it!

First of all, my poor little blog has been so neglected lately.  I have really been wanting to address some serious issues, because those serious issues are pulling families apart.  However, I am not quite sure how to tackle it all.  I'm still thinking.  Still working it out in my mind.

On to the next part.  I have been seriously concerned as I hear people talk about "working on their marriage" only to see what they feel is "working on a marriage", If that makes sense.  Lets go over some things that DO NOT  help a marriage.  First of all staying together for an arbitrary amount of time does not alone constitute working on a marriage.  More has to happen then just residing in the same home.  Staying in the same home and resenting every moment that you are there is not working on a marriage. Staying in the same home, while continuing to indulge and feed outside relationships is not working on a marriage.  Staying in a home, while bad mouthing your spouse to anyone who will listen is not working on a marriage. Staying in a home and hoping for the other person to change all of the things that annoy you is not working on a marriage.  I am not trying to be snarky or mean.  These are just some things I have observed happening with people I love and care about.  Sadly, not one of these marriages have succeeded.

I am not an expert.  I haven't taken a single class on marriage and family relations.  I have however learned so much from personal experience and trial and error.  Things that actually worked for us while working on our marriage.  Serving each other with your whole heart.  Don't do it because your husband or wife deserves it.  Do it because you want to have more peace and love in your home. Let go of past hurts.  Even if the past hurt was this morning, let it go.  Definitely don't dig up hurts from years ago.   Don't expect your husband or wife to change overnight or maybe not at all. Actively look for things you love about them now.  Pray for them, daily, hourly if that is what it takes.  Remember that he or she is a child of God.  Do everything you can to make a happy home.  Give your relationship as much time and energy as you can.  Let go of some of the outside commitments so that you can use that energy at home.  Limit time with electronics.  Work together on projects.  Set aside time to talk everyday that doesn't include talking about problems.  Just talking.  Be physically affectionate. Don't withhold your love.  Overcome selfish desires in your own life.   Seek professional help when needed.  Rely on your bishop as well.  Have faith!  More then anything lean on your Father in Heaven.

Its funny how people who you hardly know, have a huge impact on your life.  My husbands boss died unexpectedly over the weekend.  Despite the fact that I rarely ever talked to this man, my heart is deeply saddened at his passing.  I know that because of the actions of this man, because of how he treated my husband, because of how he praised and encouraged my husband, that we have had a good experience with this company over the last 4 years.  I know the men who worked there looked to him as a mentor and a friend.  My heart is sad for his family, who will greatly miss him.  He was only 49 years old.

It has also made me think about my own life and my own health.  I want to be healthy and be able to enjoy my life with my family. I want to be able to see my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren grow.  I know that we need to make some serious changes to how we treat our health.  I think back to last year, when I could barely get out of bad.  There have been some great improvements since then.  I take Hubby his dinner when he is working at the ball field and it makes me smile, because I can walk across the field without trouble.  Last year I wouldn't have been able to.  Two miles is the farthest I have walked, and it kind of kicked my butt, but I was so happy to be able to do it.  I have a new determination to be healthy, although I admit I feel kind of lost.  I don't really know where to start. I guess I have some work to be doing.

Happy Day!

My dearest friend had her baby!  I am so excited, and yet sad because she is far away.  (And I most likely wont meet this little one for a year! I am reminded today how thankful I am for good and loving friends.  M has been one of my closest friends for 24 years!  We became friends at the rip old age of 12.  We have had many adventures both together and apart. We don't always agree. (Most of the time we do!) But she has constantly been a voice of love and support over the last 24 years.  I hope that I have been the same for her.  I feel so blessed to have her in my life.

Men

The following was my facebook status this evening....

I have seen a few status updates today calling for men, fathers to "step up." It made me sad, especially considering how close it is to Fathers Day. I took a few minutes to think about the men in my life. My entire life has been blessed by incredible honorable men, starting with my very own father, grandfathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, sons and especially my own sweet husband. Then there are my teachers, seminary teachers, Home teachers, Bishops, friends, friends' husbands, and fathers, neighbors, and former co-workers. I have been supported, cared for, and loved by GREAT MEN, and I am thankful for each and every one!

What I didn't add (but really wanted too) was this..... If you find the quality of men in your life lacking, take a good look at the life you are leading.  That is where you will find the problem.  

It will never be a good idea

For me to read stories on infant/pregnancy loss.  One little story sends my poor heart back thirteen years to its familiar ache and I miss my baby all over again.  I tried once again to edit the few rather pathetic photos I have, and really I don't think there is much that can be done with them.  It leaves me feeling very sad.  However, at the time it wasn't common to take pictures of still born babies.  No one told me that I wanted a picture of each and every tiny detail, that thirteen years later I would feel desperate to know what his tiny fingers and toes looked like.

Far too quiet...

It isn't often that I am home with *only three* children.  However, all of my older children are gone.  The two girls are gone all week with girl's camp.  My son is gone for the evening playing baseball and Hubby has to work late.  Not too long ago I jumped up, thinking that I had not heard my children in far too long.  I looked around in a panic only to see that all three of the small people currently in my care were present and accounted for, but it just seemed too quiet.  I decided I didn't love quiet.  I needed some noise for my own sanity.  I don't think I will be a good empty nest-er.  The thought makes me want to cry....or adopt many many more children so that I will always have the laughter of children in my home.  I wonder if I could convince my husband.....

The story of 2000

I just finished reading Alma 56 with my children.  I have read this story so many times.  I have heard it told in church.  I have taught it in primary.  It is the story of Helaman and his 2000 Stripling Warriors.  While I have always loved this story, this time was different.  I could barely read the words on the page as emotion overwhelmed me.  I thought of my darling children and how much I love them and how those mothers must have felt as they sent their sons off with the very real possibility that they would never return.  The sons....how amazing their strength was.  I only wish that all of my children had been home tonight.  Both of my oldest two are gone.  One for baseball and one is gone for Girls Camp.  Maybe we will reread that chapter when they get home.


Ok...this post doesn't make sense.  I know it doesn't make sense.  I was totally overwhelmed with the spirit that was in our home.  That is why I don't want to delete my post.  It was just so incredible and I want to remember it.

Making memories on Memorial Day

Every Memorial Day I drag my family out to take pictures.  They are not professional by any stretch of the imagination.  In fact the family pictures were taken by a 10 year old friend of my daughters, that just happened to tag along with us to the park.  I am sure some professional could pick them apart, however they make me smile.  I love seeing how my family changes from year to year.  This year, I was especially surprised by how much my youngest daughter has changed.  The soft lines of baby-hood have fallen away and revealed a beautiful little girl.  

This series of pictures made me laugh.  I love the expressions on my son's face. 

I absolutely love this picture.  It makes me feel adored. 

The heavy stuff

They are some heavy painful things that marriages face.  These things are devastating, destructive, life changing and marriage ending.  Addiction, abuse, infidelity.  These things rock the foundation of our families, sometimes leaving damage that can not be repaired, not only for the couple, but their children, grandchildren and so many others.  I hear so many people saying "I'm an adult, I can do what I like."  or "I have to do what is right for me." or "Its my choice, it isn't affecting anyone else." but it is.  

I was probably not even born yet when addiction affected my life.  My dad smoked cigarettes. My mom tells a story about how I would, at two years old, steal my father's cigarettes and stomp on them, singing loudly whatever smoking cessation commercial I had heard.  By the time I was 8, I hated my dad's smoking for an entirely different reason.  It was keeping my family away from church.  I think that is why it is so easy for me to separate the dislike of an addiction to how I feel about the addicted person.  I LOVE my dad!  I adore him and I want him to be happy.  By 12 years old I had strong feelings about smoking.  Not only was it keeping my family away from the church I love, but also affecting my health.  I had been diagnosed with asthma.  I quit the track team because I couldn't run without experiencing coughing fits that would last until I vomited.  At 14, I had worked at a summer program through our small town.  I had some money in the bank and I was very proud of my small account.  My father had been hurt at work, and money was tight.  My parents asked me to close my savings account so my dad could buy cigarettes.  They could have asked me for anything else.  I would have happily given up the money to pay a bill or buy groceries or put gas in the car.  I sobbed as they went into the bank to close my account.I don't think they ever knew how much that hurt me.  I do think it had a profound affect on how I would live my life.  I never wanted to be involved in anything that could put me in that place.  

My little story was extremely painful ...for me.  However, it pales in comparison to all that my husband had endured being the son of an alcoholic father.  That is another story for another day.  My children are out of school for the summer and I want to enjoy their dear faces.  My daughter is officially a senor in high school and I have the intense desire to  soak up every tiny bit before she starts her grand adventure.  

What we do not say...

Several years ago, I was about to have a new baby.  We had never had a rocking chair and I noticed that our next door neighbor was having a yard sale and was selling an old wooden rocker for $15.  I remember mentioning it to Hubby "The neighbors are selling a rocking chair for $15."  He said something like "Wow, that's a good deal." and went about his business.  As the afternoon went on, I was more and more mad, and sad and frustrated that Hubby would not walk next door and buy me the dumb chair.  Finally Hubby found me sitting in our bathroom crying.  He was totally baffled at why I was so upset.  When I told him that I was upset because he hadn't bought the chair, he looked at me like I had lost my mind.  He said "If you wanted it, why didn't you just go buy it?  If you needed help getting it home, why didn't you just ask?"  I was stilling crying when I said "You should have known I wanted it when I mentioned it."  Still baffled, he walked next door and bought the chair.  Almost immediately I realized how silly I was being, not communicating exactly what I needed or wanted Hubby to do.  It wasn't fair for me to expect him to read my mind.  

Around Valentines Day I was looking at some flowers, and Hubby asked if I wanted him to buy some for me.  I smiled and said "No, I have you to love me and that is enough."  He smiled and gave me a kiss.  He didn't buy me anything for Valentines Day.  I laughed.  He took my words quite literally, and now I am a little older and wiser, and not pregnant, I know to live by my words as well.   For Mother's day he asked me what I wanted for Mother's day.  I gave him a list of 4 or 5 things he could buy, and then said "Really, its not what you buy that matters.  What matters is that you put some time and energy into it, and that you think of me."  Guess what?  He didn't buy me anything for Mother's day either.  (Grin!)  However, he got up Sunday morning and made me a beautiful breakfast.  He fixed a wonderful dinner as well.  I thought it was pretty awesome.  I spent the whole day feeling so loved and cared for. I not only had my husband, so lovingly serving me, but my daughter bought me a pretty necklace with her own money, for some reason that was very touching to me, that she thought ahead to buy me a gift, at no prompting, wrapped it, and kept it for more than a month to give to me.  My other daughter Made me a carrot cake (my favorite) and of course I received a million (only a slight exaggeration) home made cards from the little kids.  My oldest son spoke in Sacrament.  We watched a movie that was my choice.  It ended a little late, but all in all I loved Mother's Day.  I think about that day so long ago (which was probably around Mothers day, because that baby was born in May) and wish that I had saved myself a few tears and communicated my needs a bit more clearly to Hubby by saying exactly what I meant.  

A Special Day for our Sweet Boy

We had a crazy long week followed closely by a crazy long weekend, but some wonderful things happened this week.  Our little Sandman was baptized by Hubby.  He was very excited to be taking this huge step in his life and we were equally excited for him.  Despite the fact that Sandman is rarely if ever still, he absorbs everything  and and is so excited to learn about what it means to be baptized and to be a member of The Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Day Saints and to receive the Holy Ghost. It brought tears to my eyes to see my beautiful boy paying so much attention to the Sacrament prayers and trying so hard to calm his wiggly body in an effort to be reverent.  In the end, he started singing "I'm trying to be like Jesus" softly.  I just wrapped my arms around him and let a few tears of complete happiness fall into his hair.  His sweet spirit amazes me.

Shades of Gray

I remember a story told to my seminary class years ago by our seminary teacher.  He said he was walking up a hill on a dark snowy night.  There was a street light at the top of the hill shining down.   From his vantage point at the bottom of the hill the light was not clearly defined, with most of the light showing as a swirling mist of gray.  As he got closer and closer to the light, the gray area seemed smaller and smaller, until he was standing directly under the street light.  Once he was standing directly under  the light, the perimeter was clearly defined between light and dark.  There was no longer any "gray area."

So often I hear the excuse that somethings is a "gray area."  It always reminds me of this story, and I wonder....if what we are seeing is really a "gray area" or is the problem that we are just too far away from the light?   Make no mistake....I am definitely standing at the bottom of the hill.  I know that I can not always see the "Light" as clearly as I should.  That is the reason why it is imperative to me that I look to the Prophet and and other leaders to help me successfully navigate the darkness.  Without them I would be lost.

Simple Joys

Hubby calls me every day at lunch.  Sometimes our conversations revolved entirely around what we have going on in a day, arranging rides for kids, or deciding what is for dinner.  Sometimes our ten little minutes are filled with "I love You" and "I miss you."  Either way I just love hearing his voice.

I love Hubby's walk.  I can spot him from across a busy room, just by the way he walks.  It always makes me smile.  

Pretty much any time I get a text from Hubby in the middle of the day.  It makes me smile every time. 

I love that Hubby would rather spend time with me than anyone else.  Even if it is just a quick trip to the gas station he wasn't me to go with him.  

He always kisses me goodbye.  I think he learned that from my Grandfather.  

Another view

Yesterday I had the opportunity to speak in Sacrament meeting.  Now, I know you are supposed to hate that assignment.  I actually quite enjoy public speaking opportunities, and love giving a talk in Sacrament even more.  We got to church a bit early, and I took my place on the stand.  From there I could watch my children and my husband. After a few minutes I noticed something.  I really missed sitting with my family.  I could see from the stand that they were being the same wiggly children I feel frustrated with every week for not being quiet enough and not holding still enough.  I missed it.  I missed the weight of my Little Man on my lap.  I missed my daughters fluffy blond hair resting on my shoulder.  I think that it gave me an opportunity to appreciate what a blessing it is to be able to go to church with my family is.  I hope it makes me a more patient mom.  

Heartbroken Part 2?

The last few weeks have been so overwhelming to me.  Last week I turned on the computer to find the news that an old friend had received the news that she has terminal cancer.  She is just a couple years older than I am, with 4 children.  There was a time that we were really close and spoke daily, but life went on.  She moved, and I moved.  Until I joined Facebook a few years ago, we had lost touch.  My heart aches for her, for her husband and her children.

It only a few hours later that I received the news that a childhood friend was in a coma.  Something had gone horribly wrong in surgery and she had had a stroke.  We had been close friends as children and lost touch. Of course, we were reunited again through Facebook.  The next day, this sweet woman passed away.

By lunch time my husband had called to tell me that a co-worker and friend of ours had been lost his job.  He has a large family and some pretty severe health issues.  We are worried for them.

Another dear friend suffered a stroke.  Yet another had been recently diagnosed with MS.

Bad news seemed to pour in throughout the day, leaving me overwhelmed and heartbroken.  I felt totally unable to offer comfort to those people that I love so much.  Time and distance stood between us.  I  have cried so many tears for my friend Kristen, and the lost memories that she would never have, that her children and husband would never have.

The flood of bad news seems to have subsided and a new normal is taking its place.  I am so thankful today for our Savior, for the plan of salvation and the knowledge that our broken hearts will one day be mended and our families whole once more.

Happy Easter!

What a wonderful  day to celebrate the Atonement and Savior.

Feeling a little heart broken.

My baby brother posted on facebook the other day that he is "done with religion."  His post was full of anger and hate.  Sadly, so many jumped on the bandwagon to encourage the young rebel.  My brother is 15.  The general consensus is that he is young, and everyone rebels when they are young.  Something inside me fights against that way of thinking.  Something says to me that happiness can not now, nor will it ever be found in growing your hair long, listening to foul music and treating others with disrespect.  (OK, the long hair thing wouldn't bother me except that he is doing as a way to be disrespectful to those around him, namely my parents.)

I think I am feeling an extra bit of sting because My little brother is the only one of us to be born under the covenant.  In other words, he was born after my parents were sealed in the temple.  I had waited my whole life for the opportunity to be sealed to my parents. The day we finally went to the Temple with my parents, I cried and cried.  I felt so much joy that my family was to be eternal, that the tiny baby my mom was carrying may never live in the same house I lived in, but that he was part of my family forever.  Now...that same little boy is throwing away that which I hold most precious.

The day we were sealed as a family, only myself and my then 3 year old sister were sealed to my parents.  My brother and sister were already adults and not worthy to go.  It made the day bitter sweet for me and my parents.  My sister wouldn't even come to the temple with us.  My little brother waited outside.  Now, 16 years later, I am the only one of my siblings still active.  Its kind of painful and lonely.  It feels like my siblings have chosen things like scream-o music, drinking beer or going to concerts on Sundays over me.  And it hurts.

I am stuck in that horrible place where if I say anything, I am considered judgmental and preachy.  I am looked down on by family and friends for my values, my commitment, my beliefs.  But if I don't I will be letting something precious and beautiful slip away unnoticed.  I said something.  I felt the backlash as person, after person told me how wrong I am.  I cry.  I would hurt less if my brother physically assaulted me.

The Door

Imagine that you are standing on one side of a door and Satan on the other.  He wants to get in and you want to keep him out.  For a while you are standing there pushing with every ounce on energy.  After a while you hear something.  It doesn't sound like Satan.  It sounds fun and you are so tired from constantly pushing.  You stop pushing and stand there looking at the door.  What harm could there be, if you opened the door just a tiny bit. Just a little peek.  You look at the door knob and think...."I'm strong.  I can open the door just a tiny bit.  If it's Satan, I'll just push it closed again.  He can't hurt me."  Your legs and arms ache from standing at the door.  You just want to rest for a while and have a little fun.  And it does sound fun out there.


So you open the door just a tiny bit.  It looks like just as much fun as it sounded.  You know Satan is out there somewhere, but you can't see him at all.  You think about how nice it would be to just relax for a while.  You open the door just a little wider, so you can see better.  But its still not enough.  You stick your head out to get just a little closer.  Suddenly Satan is RIGHT THERE!  You try to closer the door but Satan curls his fingers around the door.  The door feels so much heavier than it did before.  He is wedging his toe inside.  Before you know it, he is in up to his elbow.  You use your foot to push his toes back, but when you take your focus off his hands, he wedges his shoulder in.  When you try to push his arm back out, he has a knee through the door.  You feel weak, and tired.  You wonder if you should just give up and let him in. You think "How did this happen? How did Satan get so far inside?"   You know you don't have the strength to get him out by yourself.


Thankfully the story does not have to end there, right?  Just when you feel your weakest, you see your visiting teacher pushing against the door with you.  Your bishop is methodically peeling Satans fingers away from the door frame.  The Savior Himself is pushing Satan back out the door.  Once you are sure he is out, you bolt the door.  You pile every heavy piece of furniture in front of it.  Everyone stand at guard, determined to never let Satan in again. 


This may seem so simple and childlike, but I see it happening all around me every day.  I hear a good friend say "Oh I'm having lunch with my old professor.   It's not like anything will happen.  Besides, he isn't my type anyway."  I hear another say "I know why are both married, but there is no harm in chatting with this guy.  He makes me laugh.  Besides, he lives clear across the country.  What could happen."  I have seen good people fall into this trap time and time again.  A Ward Missionary, a primary counselor, a bishopric counselor.  Good, good men and women who let Satan get inside.  The process of getting him back out again, is so much harder and so much longer.    We have to remember that no one is exempt. No one gets a free pass.  Given the opportunity, Satan will take anyone.    

Amazed!

Today I am amazed.

Last night I was getting the kids ready to watch Liz play softball.  Hubby had just gotten home from work. We were minutes away from leaving when the phone rang.  It was someone from the softball team.  Liz had been hit in the face with a softball and they were sure her nose was broken.  I hurried everyone a little faster and we were on our way to the field.  I called our pediatrician's office on the way, and "Yes, we can see her right away.  Bring her right in."   I love that group of pediatricians!  (Remember, our actual doctor passed away a week or so ago.)  We got to the field to field our daughter surrounded by medical personnel and a weeping hysterical team mate.  It was actually a teammate that threw the ball.  I guess when it first happened she said "I killed her!  I killed Liz! We went right to the doctor and he sent use right in for x-rays.  After a couple hours we finally got a call that there was no break.  So far there have been no signs of concussion.  I am amazed at our body's ability to protect itself.  I am amazed that so many wonderful people rushed to help my daughter when she needed it.  I am amazed that even though she has two black eyes today and still pretty swollen, you can already see her body is in the process of healing.

I am amazed!  My baby is four!  Four year ago today, I was in the hospital, holding an itty bitty 5 lb 7 oz baby.  I expecting a robust 7-8 lb baby and wasn't prepared for the tiny infant they placed in my arms.  I was recovering from my final c-section.  My marriage was just in the first days of recovery from a rough couple of years.    Little Man brought me so much joy in those first days, when my heart was so tender.  Despite the fact that he is small for his age, he is happy and healthy and an absolute joy to be around.  He makes me laugh.  He loves Mommy best.  He loves baseball and running.  Today when I said "Happy birthday he said "I am four!  And Liz is four, but AK, he is only three."  He has learned his alphabet and numbers right along with my kindergartner, and is starting to sound out simple words.  Everything he does, he does with all of his heart and energy.  I am so blessed to have my sweet little guy.  I can't imagine our little world without him.  Happy Birthday Little Man!

Change

"Insanity us doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."  Rita Mae Brown or Albert Einstein or Benjamin Franklin or some other unknown person.  There seems to be many different opinions on who actually said those words, but I like them.

Change is very hard for me.  I am a creature of habit.  I like that which I can depend on, even if it isn't necessarily what is best for me.  I know how hard change is. Last night, I was visiting with my friend.  She is experiencing some struggles in her marriage.  She is a little angry.  She is a little bitter.  She is very hurt and very sad.  I talked to her about what was going on.  We both sit very firmly in the "Work it out, divorce is not the answer" club, so we are both on the same page about that.  However our methods are very, very different.  Near the end of the conversation I said "I hope things change for you soon."  She said "They wont.  Tomorrow I will stop crying about it and just deal with it. "  My heart broke a little for her.  I admire her strength and determination to have a happy marriage even in a less than ideal situation.  I'm not sure I would have the strength to do that.

For me change was necessary, even vital to the survival of my marriage.  I could not physically remain in that environment and be healthy. Since divorce was not on the table, it left me with one option.  Change my environment.  I had to make my marriage a better place to be. I suggested last night that my friend write a letter to her husband and express some of her frustrations with him.  She said no, that it would just make him mad.  For me, facing my husband's short term anger in order to eventually bring us to a place of peace was worth it for me.  Sometimes I had to be the bad guy and stand up for myself, and my feelings.  I had to insist that changes take place.  It doesn't mean that it was "my way or the highway."  It meant that I had to face things that were unpleasant and and be very clear what my needs and expectations were. For example, for various reasons internet safety is very important to me. It is a make it or break it situation.  Hubby wasn't thrilled when I suggested it, and sometimes is frustrated when the computer runs more slowly or when the fliter blocks something it shouldn't. However, I think that the procection it offers our family and ourmarriage is worth it. Hubby also has made requests from me.  When something is bothering him, he brings it up and sometimes it upsets me, but we then have the opportunity to change things and work toward something better.

I am so glad that we are not in the same place that we were 6 years ago.  We started out in what I thought was a pretty good marriage.  We found ourselves in a very bad marriage, and worked our way back to an even better marriage than what we started with.  I hope that in another 10 years I will be able to look back and say that our marriage is even better than it is now.  I hope that we wont stagnate, making the same mistakes over and over and expect a different result.

Gotta Move!

My little guy Sandman is a mover.  Sitting still just doesn't seem to be in his genetic make-up.  He runs from my front door to the corner of my kitchen, back and forth.  Our home is tiny.  1300 square feet for 8 people.   Now, I must first say that this behavior doesn't bother me *at all.*  He runs, a lot.  He also picks up new concepts faster than anyone I know.  He does well with school work, relates well to his peers. He is affectionate and loving to his family. However, it bothers other people, like Hubby, and his primary teachers, and his kindergarten teacher and the general populous that believes children should act more like 70 year old men then children.  I am positive that the issue that Hubby has is two-fold.  First, everyone is constantly saying our little Sandman must be ADHD or asperger or autitsic. Second, the path he travels multiple times a day lead Sandman right in front of the TV, and past the computer, causing disruption to Hubby's two favorite "I'm home from work" activities.  Once again, to make it perfectly clear, *I* do not believe that Sandman has any of these three issues.  I do believe that we are so unused to seeing the energy level of a normal healthy child, that any time we do, we assume something is wrong and must be "fixed."  I do believe that infusing our children with heavy duty drugs to the point of lethargy is terribly frightening!  As you can tell, I have some pretty strong feelings about this subject.  My feelings as so strong that I removed my child from school when the kindergarten teacher insisted that my child needed to be medicated.  So you can imagine my shock, dismay and genuine heartbreak when Hubby said last night "Why don't we just get him some medication?"  

Sigh.....In light of last nights conversation I have decided to renew my efforts to calm the tempest that is my child.  It actually breaks my heart a little to do so.  A good friend once told me that her son was considered ADHD as a child, but industrious and hard working as a man.  That is kind of what I see in my son.  Just tons of potential bubbling up the the surface.  However, I started this week on a few things to try to help him conform to society's expectations.  First of all I made sure the TV was off, the greatest portion of the day.  He runs the most when he is watching TV.  Second, I turned on Pandora.  The station I am currently playing is the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. It plays beautiful soft music, without putting all of us to sleep.  I have it playing softly enough that the kids really have to listen to hear it. Third, I am redirecting him, whenever he starts running,  I call him over to me, give him a big hug and remind him that we only run outside. Finally, I let him RUN...outside.  I am sure it will get easier as our weather improves.  Hopefully we can come to a happy medium that everyone will be happy with. 

Highs and Lows

Yesterday I found out that my children's pediatrician had passed away over the weekend. He was 38, and had 4 children around the same age as some of my children. I am so sad for his family.  I'm sad for my family too. He had cared for our family since we moved here four years ago. My little ones loved him.  I also feel a little vulnerable, a little fragile.  The world has one less "good guy" today.

Yesterday was also the first softball game of the year.  We missed our daughters first varsity game.  We were across town attending the baseball parent meeting.  However, we got there in time to see her play with the JV team.  (She is JV that plays up to varsity when needed.) The score was tied going into the last inning.  There was one out and Liz got up to the plate.  Hubby is standing behind me and says "She's going to knock it out of here." I chided him for expecting too much.  Seconds later we hear the crack as ball connects with bat.  Hubby is yelling behind me "It's gone! Its gone!"  The ball finally comes down, in the middle of the soccer field.  (Good thing that game had just ended.) Liz is rounding the bases.  The crowding screaming her name. Her teammates are mobbing her at home plate.  I made my way to the dug out to congratulate her, but was so  near tears I couldn't say a word. I love those moments.  When everything seems to come together. I don't think she stopped smiling all night.

It's Important!

I was visiting with a friend today and told her that when I feel strongly about something , and try to blog about it, that I am not making sense.  Last week I wrote about marriage and how we have to protect our marriages.  I linked a news article that I had read.  It is something that I am very passionate about.  I wish that I had the talent or the capability to express myself better.  I write this blog, not because I feel like I am a great writer.  (A 10th grade English Teacher cured me of the idea that I had any talent in that arena.) I write it because i feel like we need to support our marriages.  We need to have places where people can address the issues that we face in marriage in a positive way.  There are so many pitfalls that marriages face today.  I just wish that I could be a stronger voice for those who are struggling to make a happy marriage.

Addressing the issue that I spoke of last week, the internet and marriage.  When the March issue of the Ensign came out there was an article on this very subject.  I couldn't help but think "I *knew* it was important!  Please take a minute to read it.  http://www.lds.org/ensign/2012/03/virtual-reality-actual-risks?lang=eng  The author addresses this very real threat to our marriages much better than I can.

Introducing.....

My Family

This is Liz.  She is my first born and the sweet baby we took to the temple.  She is very shy, but sweet and loyal and kind to everyone.  She is ridiculously talented and seems to master everything she tries.  I first noticed this when she came home in the seventh grade asking if she could tryout for volleyball.  I said yes, with the idea in my head head that she knew nothing about volleyball and would not make the team.  (Great mommy moment, right?)  She came home so excited that she made the team.  Watching her at the first game, it became apparent that she not only deserved to make the team, but that she was their strongest player.  She now played softball for her high school.   She is also a gifted artist, and plays guitar.  

This is A.K.  Not a nickname that I have given him, but one his baseball coach gave him.  AK 47, like the gun, is because of the hard line-drive balls he hits into the outfield.  This cute boy is my oldest son.  He loves his mom well and always takes care of me.  He has always been a gifted athlete, from the time he was tiny.  He has always loved baseball, but has also played basketball and football.  He is also loves girls.  Last year he decided that he was going to have a girlfriend, despite everything that his father and I warned him about.  I assured Hubby that 8th grade romances were notoriously short  and I was right.  Three weeks later, the young lady broke up with him and broke his heart.  He decided then and there that he was going to wait until  after his mission to have another girlfriend.  Dad and I approve!  

This is Roo, who is my single most challenging child.  She is a free spirit, who loves to wander.  She is forever getting in trouble for wandering too far from home.  She is my protector and wants to make sure that no one every hurts my feelings.  She is extremely loyal to her friends and always seeks to be a peacemaker among her friends.  She is so excited about being in the Young Womens program next month.  Roo was also our rainbow baby, the baby born after the tears.  She was born 20 months after Nathaniel, the baby we lost.       She loves to serve people and to make them laugh.  I am constantly chasing her home again to do her own chores, because she is too busy helping a neighbor with hers. She plays softball as well, but has tried other things too, like tumbling and piano.  

This is Sandman.  Which is a funny nickname, because he always always beats be out of bed every morning.  He is seven...almost eight years old.  This kid can *MOVE*.  He is in constant motion.  He is following right after his brother and sister and loves to play ball. He learns things quickly, and loves to talk to grown ups.  When he was three years old he watched and episode of Handy Manny.  Afterwards he used a screw driver  to take all of the outlet covers off all of the outlets and light switches.  Sandman was born via emergency c-section 9 days late.  He wasn't breathing when he was born.  I didn't see him until he was several hours old.  For a kid with such a rocky start, he hasn't slowed down since.

This is Bug.  She makes us laugh.  At six years old she is the self proclaimed princess of the household.  She loves all things purple and pink. She has had a loose tooth that she refused to let anyone touch for several weeks.  Yesterday she calmly brought me the tooth.  She had been eating an apple, and thought she bit a seed.  She said "I thought I was spitting out a nasty seed, but it was white, so I knew it was my tooth instead."  She is also a willing partner with Sandman in all of his schemes.  Together the two of them are unbeatable.  

This is the Little Man.  He was born at 5 lbs 7 oz. and promptly lost a pound!  He is almost 4 years old, but is much smaller.  He has seen as many doctors in his short life, then all of my other children combined.  In spite of all of that, he is perfectly healthy (just small) and makes our family perfectly happy.  He loves Mommy best and thinks I am just the most wonderful person alive....for now.  He thinks he is as big as daddy and can do anything that dad can do.  He is also Dad's little shadow and always hurries to get his shoes and jacket whenever he hears that Dad is leaving the house.  He cries bitter tears whenever he can't go. He doesn't like to see anyone sad, and walks around the house bestowing kisses to everyone who may be unhappy.  

This is Hubby.  He makes me laugh and smile.  He works so hard for his family.  There are many days that he will come home from his job as a fork lift operator, only to change clothes and leave for his second job as a referee/umpire/scorekeeper for our city's recreation department. There is a reason why so many of my children play ball.  (Actually, this year all six with be playing some form of baseball/softball.)  It is because their father taught them the game he loves so well. When my daughter was talking with us recently about the many coaches she has had, I asked her who was her favorite coach.  She said without a moments hesitation "Dad.  He taught me to love the game, not just play the game."  He is a man who spoils me as his wife. He always tries to do little things to make me happy. Whenever I fall short, he is there to pick up where I left off.  He washes dishes and toilets and has changed countless diapers.  He is the master of laundry, doing more on the weekends than I manage to do all week.   

This is my family.  They bring me joy and happiness and love.   

PS While I did make sure both little boys had jackets on shortly after these pictures were taken, I take no credit or blame for AK and his bare legs.  (Crazy kid.)