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.)

Facebook and Marriage

I read this article today.   http://www.fox13now.com/news/kstu-divorce-facebook-use-cited-in-a-growing-number-of-divorces-20120216,0,6371411.story  In case you don't want to click on the link, it is talking about how many, many divorces are cause by infidelity and many of those can be tracked back to relationships that start with social networking.  I personally know of three families that have ended because of infidelity that started on facebook.  We can not take this lightly!  We can not assume that our marriage is safe!  Satan has waged a full scale war against the family.  NO ONE IS EXEMPT!  We can not sit back and assume that our family is safe and our marriage is solid.  So many people I know are putting their family at risk.  We really can not afford to be passive about this issue that is so toxic to families.  We need to actively protect our marriage and the people we love.  When Hubby and I were considering getting facebook pages for the first time, we set down some rules.  We had already been through our issue and were not willing to put ourselves in a risky place again.  Here they are....

1.  Let everyone know right upfront that you are married.  Hubby and I both have a picture of us together as our profile picture. Our accounts so that we are married and are linked to each other.  

2.  The article mentions that married couples should either share passwords, or share accounts.  Hubby and I share passwords, not just to facebook, but to all online accounts, and emails.  This also applies to our children. We have FULL access to their accounts.  We let them know right up front that that while we value their privacy, there is no privacy online and we can and will read EVERYTHING!  

3.  NO old boyfriends or girlfriends at all.  Just don't do it. 

4.  NO long chats or emails with members of the opposite sex.  I don't care how innocent you think it is.  Just don't do it.  For example, if I have to ask the Scout leaders about something, I put it in an email message or better yet will log into my husbands account to send a message to them.  Do I think something will happen if I chat with them?  No.  Am I willing to even take that slight of chance?  Not at all.  

5.  Be very, very careful who you vent to when you are frustrated with your husband or wife.  For me, I have one friend who I can vent to, and that is only because she and I preface every statement with "You know I love Hubby, but....."  We both know that we are committed 100% to our husbands. Sometimes we need to vent, but it is rare.  We make a conscience effort to speak about the men we love in a positive way *in private*!  Which brings me to 6

6.  Keep private things private.  They have no place in a public forum.

7.  Surround  yourself on and off the internet with people who will love and support your marriage. Your marriage and family are the most important projects of your life!  Make sure everyone knows that.  

8.  Turn off the computer every now and then.  Make plenty of time talk to your sweetheart face to face.  

9,  Treat your marriage like the most priceless precious thing you have, because it is.  

 

Testimony

Like Nephi, I was born of goodly parents.  Not perfect parents, but good loving people who tried to do the right thing.  I was loved.  My parents were both members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  They were not active in church.  My first memory of going to church was when a Sunbeam teacher sent cards in the mail to my little brother.  They were cute cards that invited him to primary and let him know he was missed.   He begged my mom to let him go to primary and see his teacher.  The next Sunday my mom let us all go.  My brother was less than impressed when he found out that primary meant sitting still and being quiet.  I, however, was hooked.  I loved it.  It just felt good and right.  I looked at the people around me, and they looked so happy.  I wanted that. I took myself to church after that.  I sat alone at the back of the church.  I may very well have been the best behaved child in primary ever!  I knew that if my mom heard that I misbehaved even one time, I would not be allowed to go back. I was baptized at the age of eight, but I think for my family it was more tradition than anything.   Just before I turned 12 a tragedy happened.  At least *I* thought it was a tragedy.  Our small ward was absorbed by another ward in a neighboring town.  Church was no longer down the street, it was a 30 minute drive away.  This is where my parents love for me really shines.  Even though they had no desire to go to church, they drove me to church every Sunday.  Sometimes my brother and sister would tag along, but mostly it was just me.  As I made my way through the Young Women's program, I developed a love for the gospel.  It just made sense to me.  It was like I was standing in front of a massive mural that had been covered.  I could only see a tiny piece of the mural behind that paper, but what I could see was so incredibly beautiful.  I wanted to see more.  Each time I pulled away another piece of that paper, there was more and more beauty behind it.  

My parents became partially active at some point.  They would go to church if myself or my brother or sister had a talk.  I think I logged more hours as the youth speaker than anyone else in our ward. My family moved out of that ward when I was a senior in high school.  I dearly missed the ward that had supported me well throughout all of those years attending alone.  In our new ward, something life changing happened.  I met my husband.  He had a similar back ground as I did.  His mother was an inactive member and his father was a non-member. There was a whole lot of drama surrounding our engagement.  That is another post...or twelve.  Fast forward to our wedding.  I was five months pregnant. Even though I had always wanted a temple marriage, and had always planned for one, I think our families may have actually been more happy that our marriage would be a civil one. (I will add here that although I did get pregnant before I was married, I never was inactive. Hubby and I both went through the repentance process at that time.)  I was happy to be married and happy to be expecting my little baby.  She was born 5 months later and was perfect and healthy.  It was five days later that I was trying to clean the house, and I suddenly could not breath.  My husband and mother-in-law rushed me to the hospital.  The doctors suspected a blood clot was in my lungs, because I was just a few days postpartum.   I was terrified.   I looked at my sweet husband and brand new daughter and was so scared and sad, because I knew I wasn't sealed to them in the Temple.  I kept thinking " They are not mine.  I am only borrowing them and if I die, this is all of the time I get."  After several hours it was determined that a postpartum infection was the cause of my problems and not a blood clot.  I spent the night getting IV antibiotics and went home in the morning.  

Hubby and I, along with our oldest daughter went through the temple a few days after our first anniversary.  It just happened to be Valentines Day as well.  My parents couldn't obviously go in the temple, but they drove the two hours to be with us on that day.  I was surprised when my father announced that he was quitting smoking.  My parents were sealed 6 months later in the same temple.  (On a side note, both my mother and I were pregnant that day!  My baby brother was born 3 months later and my son was born four months later.)  

When we lost our baby Nathaniel, my heart was broken, but through all pain, there was the comfort that my sweet baby is sealed to me. I am so very thankful for the Temple and the ordinances that happened there, linking one generation to the next.  I was pregnant with my fourth baby when my grandfather had open heart surgery.  It was a complicated surgery and he had an infection.  I was newly pregnant and beyond terrified of loosing another baby.  My grandfather called me from ICU.  He said "You have to have faith that this baby is going to be ok."   I said "Grandpa, I can't.  I had faith that Nathaniel would be OK, and I buried him. I'm just not strong enough."  My wonderful grandpa, who was not a member of the church, and who was laying in ICU with tubes coming out of his chest said "It's OK.  I'll have faith enough for both of us."  It was about four days before my due date that Grandpa called me.  He said "What are you doing Saturday?"  I laughed.  "I hope I'll be having a baby, Grandpa."  He said "Well, if you have nothing better going on I wonder if you would like to come over here.  I want your hubby to baptize me."  Ummm, ya, I'll be there.  The baby can wait!  We drove two hours when I was 4 days over due to see my hubby baptize my 68 year old grandfather. My baby was seven days late.  A year later, I went to the temple to see my grandparents being sealed and my mother sealed to my grandparents.    

So there you have it.  No incredible experience of conversion.   No exciting baptism story.  (Although, my grandpa's was pretty cool, I think.  There is even more to that story.  Maybe I'll have to post on that another time.)  I don't even have some fantastic pioneer story in my lineage. I am not the most knowledgeable person of the scriptures.  I have spent most of my adult years serving in the primary, so I can sing "Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam" with the best of them.  Actions included.   But, I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is the true church.  I know the Book of Mormon is true.  I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that we have a living prophet on the earth today, who is Thomas S Monson.  I know that my Father in Heaven loves me, not in the general sense of "God loves every one" but in the personal sense.  I know that He is keenly aware of me.  He knows my name.  He loves me and he wants me to be happy.  I am still standing at that beautiful mural, pulling the pieces of paper away.  I am growing in this gospel a little at a time. I love the Lord and I love being a member of this church.  

They Are Mine!

My sweet family was sealed together for forever 16 years ago on Valentines Day.

17th Anniversary

It was 17 long (or is it short?) years ago, my hubby and I were getting married. Since then we have laughed and cried. We have brought 7 beautiful children into this world and mourned as one left before we were ready for him to go. We have worked and played. We have liked each other, irritated each other. Some days we didn't even like each other. We have broken each others heart and worked painstakingly to mend those wounds. We have said millions of "I'm sorry"s and even more "I love you!"s. In the end, as imperfect as we are, we are still happier together than we would ever be apart. I love you, Honey!

Femininity

Last night I decided to look for an old friend on facebook. The profile that I thought might be hers did not have a picture, so I clicked on one of her children's profiles to see if I recognized the names. I was shocked and very disturbed by the language, not only of this young girl (about 13 years old) but by her friends as well. In the most recent post she was saying that any boy who disapproved of her swearing "must be gay." A few young men did stand up and express that they had no desire to hear (or read) the litany of cursing. (To which the girls responded with more cursing.)

Another time I read a post from a woman who said that her daughter was an "un-apologetic fart-er," and should she be concerned? I personally have seen several girls who belch or pass gas without embarrassment. When did that become acceptable?

I was so sad to see that these girls did not have a clue that "cursing like a sailor" or belching and passing gas was not helping them. It was hurting them in the eyes of these gentleman. They failed to realize that femininity is attractive, and powerful and beautiful. There is something wonderful about a young lady who behaves like a young lady.

When my daughter was 12 years old, she played on the boys baseball team. The softball options in our community were not good. During one of her first games, some man yelled "Hey, you run like a girl." My cute daughter turned around and said "I am a girl." The very next at bat, she hit a home run. Yes, there are times when we as women need to work the same job as a man. However, we need to remember and to teach our daughters that working and living along side of men does not mean we have to behave like a man. And it certainly doesn't mean it is ok to behave in a way that is far worse. If we want our young men to treat our daughter with respect, our young women need to step up to the plate as well.

have you ever....

Had someone you love and adore say something that really kind of hurt your feelings? You don't want to be offended and hurt...but you are. Well that is what happened last night when a friend of mine said to me "I wish I could be a SAHM, so that I could have some time to just sit, and read and think or sleep or clean."

I know, I know. I am just a bit too over sensitive about this issue. On a different day, it probably would not have bothered me so much. However, at 5:30 AM my two little boys decided to begin their day. That means that *I* began my day at 5:30. Then my littlest boy was so clingy that I kept tripping over him while trying to prepare breakfast. Despite the early start for the day I had trouble getting everyone settled into work and before I knew it was noon. The sun was shining so nicely that I decided to take my four little ones for a short walk. We decided to walk to a small park near our home. I knew it could be a challenge as I haven't walked that far for a year and a half. I was slightly worried about getting there and not having the energy to get home or getting there and having my three year old get sleepy and not being ale to get home. I was most worried about him wetting his pants, getting cold, and me having to carry him home.

Well none of those things happened. They would have been easier to deal with! The walk down there was fine. When we almost got to the park there is a field with three horses. My kids stopped and watched them, and I was fine with that. Then one horse decided that we were a potential source of food. She stretched her long neck over the fence and sniffed the top of my little mans head. My daughter picked up some straw and offered it to the horse. Then the littler kids all decided to try that as well. I suddenly was terrified that we were going to loose a finger...or arm. I picked up the little man and scooted the rest away from our hungry friend.

After playing at the park for almost an hour, my kids had rosy red cheeks and noses. I was starting to worry about the whole wet pants thing and decided that I needed to get everything going. I also decided that taking an alternate route to avoid meeting up with the hungry horses again. Instead we saw a dog, a dog that was barking like crazy and pulling on his chain, but the little man was sure that he was eager for us to say "hi" and darted out in the road to go see the day. Of course, I was right behind him, and of course there was a car coming. Both of our lives flashed before *my eyes.* Obviously my son did not have the same issue. Then he spotted MORE horses, across the road, of course. The little man made a bee-line for the horses, and I was chasing him in the street again. I attempted to carry him home. I attempted to have my eleven year old carry him home. Neither one of us could carry the little man far while he was thrashing and crying. He ran out in the road once more. I can't remember why. Then he sat on the curb and cried. Somehow we finally got home just before the big kids walked in the door.

Of course like with a 16 year old is exciting. My daughter was having a major break down because she left half of her cookie dough order (fundraiser for softball) at the school. She wont call because she is too embarrassed. I finally call the coach and make arrangements for my husband to pick up the cookie dough after work. Of course he isn't thrilled that the little break he has between jobs will be spent retrieving cookie dough, and let me know about it.

Somewhere around this time I realize that although I had fed my kids, I hadn't yet eaten. I also hadn't gone to the bathroom. Then Then I though....ya being a SAHM is just such a relaxing spa like experience. I'm sure my friend would want to spend her day just like this!