I'm Giving God 20

When Timothy was two years old I was called to be in Young Women’s. I was excited to work with the leaders and the girls. I was thrilled to be back where my tender testimony was born. But as I happily accepted the Bishop’s call, the spirit quietly said to me- “If you accept this, you will go to girl’s camp.”

I can honestly say my excitement faltered… just for a moment. I had never left my little boy. I was as attached to him as he was to me. I didn’t go out with my friends unless it was a mommy/child thing, I didn’t work outside my home, and Jeff and I rarely ever went on dates—not something I recommend. The point is, I never left the kid. So, the thought of leaving him for four nights and five days made my stomach churn. But camp was months away and I really did feel like it was where Heavenly Father wanted me, so I took the call.

And I loved it as much as I thought I would. Until camp came. My nerves were on edge, my emotions like a roller coaster. How could I leave this little man who so greatly depended on me? The few times I had left he’d been a wreck. How could I leave him now for days? –dramatic right? Some of you are totally rolling your eyes at my mommy-freakout and that’s okay. It was fairly dramatic, but that’s sincerely how it went down.

The day of camp came and I left strong, only a lump in my throat. I held the tears back and immersed myself in the girls and activities. It was good. I thought of my Timmy at home with his daddy and missed him dearly. I made him a pillow case with a dinosaur on it and stashed other fun treats and trinkets for him. 

When it was time to come home I was beyond ready. We pulled up to the church, in town, just blocks away from my baby, but with an hour of work to do—getting the girls their bags, waiting for parents to pickup, cleaning the trailer, however, Elaine Huntsman being the most beautiful woman on the planet, and knowing that my heart was ripping to shreds with the separation, told me to head home. She didn’t have to offer twice. I couldn’t speed away fast enough. 

When I got home, my house was empty. Empty! I was so angry and then my anger turned to sobs. My husband and son returned home an hour later (they were out buying me a welcome home present J). Still, as I showered the weeks’ worth of dirt off of my body I cried my stinking eyes out. (Seriously… my poor sweet husband!)

It had not been an easy week, to say the least. But I did it because I love God. I love my Savior. And I loved his daughters and wanted to serve and influence their lives too.

Fast forward 17 years and that little two year old boy who loved his momma more than anyone in the world is now 19 and preparing to leave me, our family, his friends, school, and work for two whole years.

I have 10 days… and then for a time he’ll belong to Sacramento. He won’t see his family, friends, so forth. And we won’t see him.

In a weird way this is just as difficult as it was when I left him all those years ago. I know it’ll be harder, but right now, that time is one of the things I think about, that’s how it feels. I keep reminding myself why we’re doing this. Why we want to do this! --Because our loving Heavenly Father has blessed us with more than we could ever have hoped or asked for. Because we want Tim to experience selfless love and service. Because we love the Book of Mormon and know how it changes lives and makes them so much more worthwhile. Because the good news of the Gospel is for all. 

And I know, I know! when Tim comes back to us, he will just be a better version of his already pretty great self. You can never give to God without Him giving back to you ten-fold. I know Tim will be blessed, we’ll all be blessed. I’m honestly excited (and terrified and distraught—all at the same time) for this fabulous change in our lives. So many wonderful lessons to learn, so many blessed experiences waiting for us all. It’s going to be good, people. It’s going to be tough. And it’s going to be worth it.

He’ll leave at 19, he’ll come home at 21. I’m giving God 20. It’s the least I can do after all He’s given me.

When do boys stop eating their boogers?

Boys.
I have three of them.
Three.
And according to some strange old gal in Walmart that fact alone is sending me straight to Heaven.

Boys.
They smell.
Their rooms. Their clothes. Their shoes.
They smell.
It's true.
It's not one of those myths or old wives tells that people say that's all exaggerated.
They smell. Weird. Pungent. Stink. And a smelly candle or febreeze doesn't make it go away.

They're loud.
Not like, "Hey, that TV is a little too loud. Could you turn it down?" But more like, ----- ---- ---- -- ....I'm speaking, you just can't hear me, the boys are too loud.

They run around like crazy people trying to get away from zombies. They run around the kitchen table even though it's right next to your breakable nativity and even though you told them not to just yesterday... an hour ago.... 5 minutes ago... They run. It's like there is something inside of their bodies that says: ready, set, GO!

They have some strange hearing loss issues. "Go clean your room." can't ever makes it's way into the inner ear, but a whisper to someone else of "Should we catch a movie this afternoon?" sinks right in.

All of these things are true.
Not kidding.
No exaggeration.
All of them.
And yet, I have no idea what I would do without my boys.

I am so greateful that I am not in charge.
I would have sent myself  a house full of girls. Sisters.
And probably one sweet son--that's what my mom had and it seemed to work out perfect.
Yeah... only that wasn't for me. God knew better.
Thank goodness.
He sent me sons: #1, L, and the Sheriff. Oh, how I needed those boys. And then of course the little cherry on top, Little Miss. --I need her too, but today, it's about the boys.

Boys--at least my boys, love their mom so fiercely. When they were smaller they would look at me like I was the most beautiful thing on the planet. They didn't care that I had day old puke on my shirt or hadn't washed my hair in three days. I was Momma and that meant something great to them.
They hug me like they may never see me again and kiss me goodbye any and every time they leave the house.
They are very good to me and they are exactly who I need. Because of them I will be better mom to Little Miss too. They have taught me to be more patient and to get over things quick! --I'm still working on both those skills, but they're helping me.

I love my boys.
I need my boys.
The End. :)

I Chose Him

Sixteen years ago my life changed forever...

I had a lot of things I wanted to do. A lot of ambitions--like anyone, that I wanted to fulfill. 

I wanted to graduate from college.
I wanted to teach.
I wanted to travel. 
I wanted to write.
I wanted to get published asap.
I wanted to get married.
And I wanted to have a family.

With a dozen or so other desires mixed in there. :)

The hubby and I got married. We were both studying education. He would be done before me, because of my double major, 5 year program, Special Education + Elementary Education.
Then about 7 months into our wedded bliss we had a surprise, we were expecting. 
I had three years of schooling down, but two to go to get my degree. 
I was 21, a little nervous, and some would say naively excited about having a baby.

I knew it would change everything. But thankfully I've never been too afraid of change.

I was due September 2, 1999. My Senior year began just days before my due date. 
And I knew then, in that bathroom, looking at that little positive sign, that I would not be making it to my Senior year of college. Not then anyway.
With just a small heart beat in my ears, I knew I wouldn't be leaving his side.

So many good things. So many things I could do, I wanted to do.
But in the end my heart could not take another path.
I chose him.
And thankfully I was in a position where I could. 
It doesn't always work out so nicely, but my circumstances, my husband's hard work--they allowed me to be home with him. And I will be forever grateful.

My thoughts this morning--on #1's birthday, there are so many wonderful opportunities in this world. So many good things I wanted and still want desperately to do, to be a part of, but none of them compare to my children.
They are the best adventure ever.
And my other goals are still there--sure maybe years later than I'd planned or hoped for, but they're still there. 
My little people won't be there forever. Children turn into adults. And they do it way too fast.

Blessings of the Brace

Not that long ago, in fact exactly one month ago today, I wrote a post about my son, #1 and his back. 

Here it is if you want to read it. :)

I was a little more than stressed/worried/sick about his situation and the huge brace he has to wear.

And so many of you gave your love and support and prayers.

Thank you.

That's why I wanted to share the blessings that have come from the darn thing.

The obvious blessing:

It's working.

Then                   Now

He won't ever have a straight back, but this treatment is helping. In the short amount of time he's had the brace he has been diligent in getting 17-18 hours in--even when he really didn't want to. And he's gone from his spine being 34 degrees off to 24 degrees off.

Such a blessing! 

We go back in 6 months and I am already ready for good news. :)

 But that hasn't been the only blessing.

We've had multiple prayers in our behalf. We've really felt the love of those around us and those far away.

Our hearts have also softened. 

As parents I think it's easy to let our voices raise or get impatient or stressed from the day to day challenges. 

And somehow, with this brace we've softened our voices, we've given more patience, we've let go of day to day disturbances--they haven't felt as important or intrusive.

Because nothing is more important that our child and his health--body and spirit.

My faith in my son's strength and abilities and endurance has been strengthened.  

As well as my faith in God's mercy. 

But it's only been 4 weeks.

I'm sure I have a whole lot more to learn.

Brace Yourself

I have gone back and forth about writing this post.

Is it too much to share?

Is it mine to share?

I sort of want to swear whenever I think about it---and I don't normally curse.... so maybe that's a sign...

I don't know.

My son (#1) has scoliosis.

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It's not the end of the world. It's not life threatening. 

But it's not fun. Or easy.

He needs a brace.

Yesterday we picked up the brace. It has to fit very snugly. The highest peak of the brace comes up under his left arm pit, so high in fact that he has to keep his shoulder raised a bit. The most bottom part hits mid-butt.

He has to wear it everyday. 16-18 hours a day.

It's uncomfortable.

He didn't have it on long before it was painful, squeezing his insides. He'll get used to it--hopefully.

He'd had it on for an hour, sitting awkwardly, he said in a not-so-happy voice, but if you know #1, not a complaining voice either, "Mom, I have to wear this for a year, right?"

My voice kind of caught in my throat. 

I didn't want to say it. 

He has to wear it until he is done growing.

He's 15. 

He could be in this (here's where I'd really like to swear) brace for who knows how many years.

He'll have it at school.

Can you imagine? How fun and non-brutal is high school anyway?? and then let's add a body brace that doesn't let you move or sit in a natural way at all.

So, here's where I pray.

Because prayer changes things.

And here's when I am so thankful for the power of prayer.

Most likely he won't miraculously and suddenly stop needing his brace. But I know God will help him endure it. I know He will give him strength and courage. 

And I honestly believe in the end, my son will be a better man for this. 

Our trials teach us so much. They mold and strengthen us. They give us compassion and gratitude. 

And I want him to have all of those things.

So, in the mean time. I'm going to do my best not to swear, pray a lot and continue to tell my boy how extremely amazing he is.