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.

Honesty Time: The In Between

I miss my girl. My last partner in crime. My errand buddy. My girl-time, play-date, right hand man.

I feel in between.

And a little lost if I'm being honest--and I'm trying to be honest.

This is a strange stage of life for me. My kids go off to school, all of them, and then I'm home... and I don't speak to another human being for a long time--except in class.

I'm in school--and that helps. I at least see other humans... occasionally. And I really am loving the learning.

By the way, since I'm being honest I really hate it when people say: Oh, you went back to school, I guess you had to find something to do since your kids are all gone...
I cannot tell you how many times I've heard that. And I want to say- Listen, Dude, I have PLENTY of things to do. That is not my problem, boredom is not the reason I'm doing this.

I'm not bored.
I'm a little lonely, sometimes, not always.
All of the things that I do, I now do without my little helpers.
Also, it's strange, because when Little Miss would go to preschool, I would write like crazy... well, now I have all day and I don't get any more writing done than when she was home. And the reasons I'm not getting it done aren't nearly as precious and important as they were last year when she was home, when she was the reason.

I just feel in between. In between what... I don't know. Stages of life... Really, I'm just onto a new one. I just haven't figured out how to do it yet.

And I'm not uphappy--honesty here. I'm really not.
I just feel like I'm figuring out how to be me in this stage of life.

I think everyone has to figure it out--don't they? I think we all do... which means we aren't alone.

I don't know how much it helps, but we aren't alone!
You aren't alone new mom, whose baby won't sleep!
You aren't alone single momma, who's working her tail off trying to do it all.
You aren't alone stay-at-home mom, with no more kids to stay home with! (I'm right there with ya).
You aren't alone momma of the teens who you pray are listening to the lessons you've been teaching the last whatever-teen years!
You aren't alone empty nester, whose children are grown and have left strange kind of loneliness in your home... or maybe you're calling it peace. ;) --no judgments, we're all different and yet so many of us are right there together, same boat, not alone.

Sending your child into the pit of despair... we also like to call Kindergarten

First day.
I survived.
She survived.
There were tears, I'm not gonna lie, on both our ends.

It's scary, sending your baby to school where someone other than yourself will be loving and caring for them. S-C-A-R-Y.

But it really isn't the "pit of despair"... no, I'm just a Princess Bride fan. Really her teacher seems amazing and her SLP IS amazing and there. And when Little Miss had a hard time she was right there to give her a hug--for which I am thankful beyond words.

Still, it's hard and it feels like sending them off to battle or something else irrational and insane. And you wonder if everything you've been teaching them for the last five years of their little life is about to fly out the window.

And for me--I should know better. Three brothers went ahead of her. They all survived. Sure they learned a few things I'm not so in love with, but they're still them, we're still us. They still have what I've taught them.

The other day Little Miss and I were at the park. We were swinging and a little boy ran up to the swings and sat by her. He was talking--to himself really, but he kept using the Lord's name in vain.

No judgements people--we just don't do that. And we've taught our kids not to. Kindergarten was coming and it gave me a small panic attack--she's going to hear this and worse at school and everything I've taught her is going to vanish!!!--{because, yeah, sometimes I'm a drama momma like that}.
BUT
Then, my girl--who no doubtedly heard the little guy say it again and again started to sing: "God is bigger than the boogie man." It's a Veggie Tales song. She heard him, but she brought the word "God" back into the context that she knows, that she's been taught in my home. And I thought... okay we can do this. Maybe the pit of despair won't be so terrible.

And of course it isn't.
It's wonderful.
It's just new.
And different.
And so very much for her, but honestly just as much for me. My life, as I've known it for the last 16 and 3/4 years is changing... dramatically. And selfishly I really like my life.
Home.
Write.
Play.
PB&J's with my littles.
Repeat

Change isn't evil. It is what it is. I'll still need my box of tissues tomorrow, but that's okay. I really do want them to grow up and do all the amazing things I know they can do. So, change is inevitable!

Cheers to change. And happy first day of school my friends!

I'm there.

I'm there, people. Well, I'm one month and 15 days away from being there.
And I'm one of those--freaking out, tearing up, stressing out...
Ugh.
I am almost in the "all the kids are in school" place. And it isn't a terrible place. Many people can't wait for that place--and that's fine, that's them. But I'm not excited for this place.
In all honestly I'm dreading this place.
And it isn't because I won't know what to do with my time. I have plenty to do with  my time... who doesn't? It's just, well...

I was writing in my journal tonight. It's a pretty leather bound, swirly designs at the binding, little book. I love it. I've had it for years and years and started using it 5 years ago. I flipped to one of the  middle pages and found a page my girl had colored all over as a toddler. I remember when she did it, I took the book away and frowned at the marks all over my pretty book. I saw a blemish. Today, with  my baby not even two months away from public school it made me smile. It made me so happy. A little bit of baby girl love in the middle of my favorite book. Perfect.

So, while I'm dreading this new place in my life, I'm realizing it's only because of how good life is. And the next stage though different will be just as good--at least that's what I'm going to keep telling myself. I'm sure I'm right. I really am. My spirit just needs to catch up with my brain. And until then I will cry. And when my kids all go off to school in August I will let myself miss them. I will let myself grieve for the noise and the games and the story times and the little helpers at my side wherever I go. Because it was wonderful. It was amazing. And it was over in a blink. And probably should be mourned, at least for a minute.

You aren't doing it wrong...

Do you know why children don't come with instructions?
Because there isn't an exact right way of doing this parenting gig.

It's wonderful. It's beautiful. It's messy. It's hard. It's rewarding. It's discouraging. It's exhausting. It's awesome. And it sucks.
Truth.

No one ever loved it all the time.
And that's okay.

Weaning your baby isn't fun.
Potty training isn't fun.
Cleaning up puke isn't fun.
Crying it out isn't fun--in fact it bites the big one.
Discipline isn't fun.
Wondering why in the world the act the way they do at times isn't fun.

Christmas is fun.
Birthdays are fun.
Vacation is fun.
Letting your baby lick a lemon for the first time is fun--come on, it is.
Story time is fun.
Accomplishing all those not so fun items on list #1 are fun.
Kisses goodnight and hugs hello and "I love you, Mom", those things are all super fun--> most of the time.

But it can't be giggles and games all of the time.

I've often thought I should have the right answer solely because my name is "Mom". Guess what--I don't. But I'm not alone. --Like a billion other mothers are with me on this and the ones who say they have it all together... they probably drink... a lot... like, a lot a lot a lot. {Yeah, I just used the word "like" out of context twice... in one paragraph.}  

The point is be kind to yourself--and I say this to all you momma's out there, but also to myself. It's the best job on the planet--which ensures that it's the hardest job on the planet.
So, be kind to yourself and to others. And pray, a lot. :) 

Remembering

It's so easy to forget. 

My life is pretty great. 

My kids are wonderful,.
My husband loving and good. 

And every now and then we have a minute that is just amazing.
These perfect little moments seem to slip from my mind like water through my fingers though. And that feels so wrong.

Why can't I remember better? 
Why can't I keep the precious in my heart forever.
And I guess it's because I'm blessed with a lot of good times, so many I can't keep track... {that or I'm getting old and 4 kids have made me lose the memory portion of my brain}.

Tonight, at bedtime, my girl asked me to sing to her and so I started Jesus wants me for a sunbeam. The lights were out, it was quiet... bed time... And suddenly she pulls a harmonica from under her covers and begins swaying and playing along with my song. 

And well, I just didn't want to forget.  :)

 

Ungrateful Tears

I feel so ungrateful when I cry.
And yet I cry.
Sometimes it feels like I can't help it.
Like there's no other choice.
So, I cry my ungrateful tears and then try to move on.

My Little Miss is doing so well and we've had so many amazing tender merciful blessings in our lives due to her Apraxia--as well as loads of improvement. Gallons and tons and mounds of improvement--I mean she's gone from 6 words just 6 months ago to... I've lost track now. It's so good.
And yet sometimes I cry, still.

As far as we've come, we've got years and years of work ahead of us. And some days are a bigger reminder of that than others.
Today--ugh, it's only ten in the  morning--is one of those days.

She has so much to say and so much that still can't quite get out. And her little heart breaks every time her mother can't understand her.
And so I cry too.

I'm pretty much a big baby--but if you've read this blog for... oh, ya know, longer than... oh, a minute you already know that.

I know she's come a long ways--a really long ways in such a short time--thus the feeling ungrateful at my blubbering. But the mom in me can't stop the guilt or the sadness when I don't know what she's saying.

It'll pass, right? Most things do--Here's to hoping she still wants to tell me everything when we're at that point.

When they struggle

I don't think there is a parent alive who is a stranger to struggling.
The sleepless nights and zombie exhaustion. Figuring out breastfeeding (it isn't easy for all of us!!). Not understanding why on earth that baby is still hungry when they ate 25 minutes ago.

And let's face it, there's another 1,252,788 things that parents struggle with.

But when it's your child that struggles... it isn't you that can't figure it out, but your child, well, that's kind of a different story. We can't go to bed early and they wake more rested. We can't stay up reading novels and suddenly they know how to read. We can't go to the doctor and eat our veggies and have their sickness healed.

We help, we love, we teach, which let's face it, is work. But we can't do it without them, without their work, without their brainpower and effort.  

My baby boy struggles in school. It's hard. It's tear worthy. And the boy is smart! I know he is. His last year before kindergarten we spent half our day home together playing board games. And I could hardly believe what a whip the boy is. So, why is spelling and reading and writing and math so darn hard now? I don't know. I don't have that answer. I wish I knew. I wish some magical motherly this-is-the-answer light would turn on inside my brain! 

Where is my magical mother light?

The other night I was checking over the homework he'd done for the week, only to find out that he'd done it all wrong. He had to do all of it over.

He wasn't happy.

I wasn't thrilled.

Still, I tried to smile. I gave my best attempt at a it's-not-a big-deal grin and then we reread the instructions--and I explained those instructions. And after a few tears, he got to work. He did it. And he did it well.

I didn't do it for him.
I couldn't.
I helped. I loved. I taught.

And I pray and hope everyday that will be enough, because, people, that's all I've got! I don't know what else to do!

And school is just one thing. What do we do when they struggle with friends or bullies or an illness? What about all the crazy awful temptations in the world? What about those???

Stop. Me, not you. I can't help my kids if I'm in the mental home.

My own personal--> Recap-
We can't live for them.

We can teach them.
We can love them.
We can pray for them.

So, we love and teach and pray. And then what?
My magical mother light is saying have faith, have hope.
That's all I know.
I'm out.
I'm going to go practice spelling "CHRONOLOGY", because like my 4th grader, I'm not sure how.

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.

It's such a bummer when you learn the world doesn't revolve around you--4 ways to make sure your kids know it!

My youngest little man, our Sheriff, has had a rough realization this week. It's awful... and it's crappy... and it's so unfair

But

The world does not revolve around him.

Oh, disaster.

Okay, I don't mean to mock him--at all, actually. 

It really has been a harder week at my house. 

And at one point I said to my hubby--If he is like this at 9, I'm not sure I want to see him at 15!!!!!!

And then I sort of wanted to cry--but I didn't. 

{I know what you're thinking--whoa, she cries A LOT.}

Well, I didn't this time, I just wanted to.

So, being in a very peeved state I got online to trusty ol' google and looked up: how to help your kid realize the world doesn't revolve around him.

I found a couple articles--neither of which I really cared for.

So, I am writing my own. 

I am not a terrible mother. 

I love my children.

I have a great desire for them to turn out wonderful contributing community members.

And I pray--O, I pray a lot.

Then, I just thought it out. And here's what I've come up with. This is how I am going to teach the Sheriff, as well as the other 3 lovelies that they are wonderful--really really wonderful, BUT not the only people on the planet.

#1 We are going to serve. 

Serve. 

Serve.

Serve.

When you serve someone else, you don't have time to think about yourself--and even if you do, you hopefully soon lose yourself in good works.

#2 {I'm already pretty good at this one :)}

I am going to say "No" A LOT! 

Start young--err or NOW!

And say "No."

They don't need everything. 

They don't know it, but they don't even want everything.

They will be better, stronger, happier people when we, their parents don't give them everything!

#3 This one can be a toughy. 

You may think I either have it, or I don't! How can I help it?

But you can.

*Have a strong male influence in their life.*

For me, I am so blessed, it's their dad. 

He's here. Everyday.

Yesterday when the Sheriff was having a the-whole-world-should-do-what-I-say-moment, my husband set him straight. HE told him to speak nicely to his mother.

I had back-up. 

You need back-up.

Okay, so you're a single mom {or dad}.

Find it somewhere else. 

Grandpa. Uncle. Friend.

Get yourself some back-up. 

Someone you respect.

Someone your child respects and loves and is loved by in return.

#4 In this house--we help.

Doing everything for those little people we love so much tends to make them feel entitled. Feeling entitled is kind of another word for--the world revolves around me!

So, make them help out.

So, that's it.

I am hoping, and like I said praying my eyeballs out that it will help. I love my children. I want them to be the best people they can be--the people I know they were meant to be. Which takes some effort on my part. 

But they're worth it. 

And sometimes we just cry

I wrote a blog post 6 months ago called:

WHEN YOUR CHILD DOESN'T SPEAK

Well, it's been six months.

And we've made very little strides. 

But we have made strides.

My Little Miss is now 3 1/2 years old. 

She has a few more signs. 

She seems to attempt more vocal speech--though it's not very often we understand. 

When we do though, it's jumping for joy time.

What we're doing:

*Little Miss is in school twice a week where she meets with a speech therapist once a week.

*We're learning more signs.

*When others speak to her, we wait and give her a chance to answer, before we answer for her.

*We play a lot--with little people, with barbies, with baby dolls--talking up a storm as we do so. I can't understand what she says, but she jabbers right along with me.

*We reiterate words, trying to help her to hear and try out the sounds.

*And sometimes we just cry.

It's hard. 

As a mother, I just want her to be happy and healthy.

And she is.

So, why is it so hard?

And the honest answer is: Yes, mostly I want happy and healthy. But I want less frustration too.

I want to hear her funny little thoughts and not always guess at what she wants or thinks.

I want to teach her and have her respond so that I know she understands--or doesn't.

I want to stop saying: Oh, she doesn't really speak yet.

But that's a lot of I's, which let's face it, is pretty selfish.

This morning she threw one of her frustrated tantrums because daddy wasn't playing how she wanted. But she couldn't explain how she wanted.

How frustrating for her, that these big people who are supposed to know what they're doing can't get it right all the time.

I don't always know what to do when one of those frustrated fits occurs. And then I get frustrated and impatient.

What I need to do--since I can't always be the perfect mother, is remind myself to be gentle, to be forgiving--and hope that she'll be forgiving of me and my short comings. 

And I know this, but maybe I need to remind myself in those hard moments that I am one blessed momma to have her, just the precious way she is.

Happenings at Bedtime

The routine of bedtime.

I am a big believer  in it!

And we have a good one, we have since #1 was little, 15 not-so-long years ago. 

We read our scriptures as a family. We say prayers as a family. Then it's story-time in their bedrooms, hugs, kisses, when their little- a song, then lights out.

But we have other routines as well--ones that the hubby and I did not come up with or implement. 

It never fails, it's bedtime, we've read, we've prayed and suddenly:

L has some kind of aliment.

His head hurts.

His stomach hurts.

He's got something on his toe that just doesn't feel right... 

Little Miss gets her stories, her songs, her kisses and then just as I get to her door she signs milk.

The girl needs a drink. 

Always.

And occasionally a cracker.

O goodness.

Again, we've said prayers, we've read... our big boys hug and kiss goodnight-- they get to read in their room quietly for a bit. 

#1 along with everyone else hugs and kisses goodnight. 

He goes to his room and reads.

Then he comes up for the bathroom.

Another goodnight.

Then he goes back down. 

He reads some more.

Then he comes up to say: Okay, I'm going to bed now, goodnight.

3 goodnights--every night.

And the Sheriff. 

Well, he doesn't really have a "thing". 

Once he's in bed, he is {usually} there to stay.

And he doesn't complain about going.

In fact he's the one {being the Sheriff}and saying come on people, let's get those prayers said so I can get to bed. 

It's just bedtime.

And I love it.

It's family time.

And it's mom and dad have a few minutes to themselves time.

We need that.

My kids need us to have that.

I am so grateful to be a stay at home mom--and yet some days it's such a lonely place to be

My husband is on his 14th year of teaching.

The first year he taught, he had part of the summer off, the second part of the summer he taught summer school. 

It may sound strange to some, but it was a trial for him to be home that summer. He went from college classes with a part time job to student teaching to teaching. He was always busy. Always graded or paid. So, the "fun" of time off, wore off pretty quick. We were too poor to do anything too fun and so we were home. 

One day, understandably he said to me- I just don't have a place. I don't know what to do.

I had a list of a million things to do and so I handed it over to him. 

He wasn't exactly impressed. And it wasn't very compassionate of me. This was a legit struggle for him.

When I handed him the list, he made a comment about how I'm always home, this is my place.

I remember feeling frustrated and saying: Do you think I am excited to do the laundry?

Do you think dishes and vacuuming are my passion?

Because, nope they aren't.

My husband is kind of wonderful--and pretty amazing and over the last 14 years, he has found his place during the summer. It is at home, he helps me and we play with our kids and we can both say we LOVE summer. We LOVE home.

My point of that long drawn out story is, even though I was being a tad grouchy when I told my hubby that I wasn't passionate about housework--it's true. I'm not.

{If you're going to come see me, give me an hours notice.} 

Some days my house is clean. And some days I have played with Little Miss and edited the day away. (And I love those days!!)

Still, as much as I loooove being a stay at home mom, sometimes when the responsibility of staying home fills my day, it feels really lonely. 

Thus the surrounded by toys and laundry picture.

Me, today.

It doesn't mean I want a new job. 

It doesn't mean I hate it.

It means as grateful as I am that I have the amazing opportunity to stay home with my kids and to raise them and teach them...

It's still hard.

So, for me, as much as my family will always be #1, I need something in that #2 or #3 spot that's mine. Something that I am passionate about, something that get's me excited and makes me feel a little pleased with myself.

It will still be hard.

It will still get lonely.

But it will always be worth it.

Those things we find mundane--they mean something.

And they mean it to the people I love the most in the world.

Those precious little people make me so happy (even when they're driving me loco) and they are so very worth it.

Am I enough?

As I knelt to pray tonight I spoke of each of my children. I prayed for my boys, for their weaknesses to become strengths. 
For their goodness to never leave them.

I spoke of Little Miss and her development.

I prayed with my whole heart that I will be able to help them. To teach them. To be wise and consistent and right. 

I prayed I could be enough.

I have faith in God.

And He's the one who gave me these beautiful little people. 

So, surely he'll offer His help and has some faith in me... right?

Being a mother is the best job there is.
Which tells me my Heavenly Father loves me so much.--He gave me the job. :)
It's also the most nerve racking, crazy, scary, hair turning grey, exhausting process on the planet.
Which tells me He also has a sense of humor. :)
Haha.
Oh! And that He believes I can do it.

We are His children, we're meant to succeed. 
Success without trial or challenge isn't much of a success I guess.
So, yes, I think parenthood isn't supposed to be all rainbows and cartwheels.
It's supposed to help us grow--to truly succeed. 

And through the hardest of times--it's where I want to be. 
It's good.

A Week in the Life...

Right after my mom died I had to look for things to do--to stay busy... if I wasn't busy, I was crying. 

Sometimes I was busy and crying, but still somehow the busyness helped. 

It's was the cleanest my house has EVER been!

Anyway, my friend Samantha told me about this:

 "A week in your life" idea. 

It was one of the ways I kept myself busy!

For one week you take pictures of your everyday life. Sometimes we take pictures of birthdays and Christmas and forget the everyday important stuff. 

I am not suggesting that for the rest of your life you take a gazillion pictures of dishes and laundry. 

That would be exhausting and let's face it--ridiculous.

But for one week--I AM. 

Because to journal about your everyday life and have a photo journal to back it up can be kind of amazing.

For your kids to be able to look back and remember that you drove them to soccer practice--EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

That you were the one helping them with homework or saying yes go build that blanket fort in my nice living room. 

Those every day things add up to a lot. 

And sometimes as parents--as people we forget that. And we forget how awesome we really are because of them. :)

So this is my challenge--

RECORD A WEEK IN YOUR LIFE!

On FB, on your blog, through regular ol' school scrapbooking. 

But record it somewhere! 

You can take one picture a day or you can take ten. It's whatever you want. But the key is to keep it real. Don't go crazy with kid activities if that isn't what you normally do.

This is your life. Your real, everyday life.

And I'm hoping I'll get to see a few of your weeks!

Who's with me? :)

I'm going to start Sunday June 29, 2014. 

When your child doesn't speak

You hear a lot of this:

*One day she'll just bust out full sentences.

*She doesn't need to talk, everyone else talks for her.

*One day you'll wish she'd stop talking!

*She's smart, she can get what she wants without talking.

Now let me preface this with-- none of this offends me. Kind people, just trying to make us feel better that our 3 year old has the vocabulary of a 12-18 month old.

But most of the time I feel like those excuses are sort of... well,

 crap.

I am writing this post with a heavy heart, as I sit here not exactly knowing what to do for my little daughter who is currently throwing one of her mother-load tantrums--

all because I have no idea what she wants.

It's a regular occurrence.

The girl is 3. They have tantrums. It get it. It's normal.

But we have regular ol' tantrums.

And then we have--> 

I-am-seriously-ticked-that-your-lame-brain-can't-figure-out-what-I'm-saying   

tantrums.

They're different.

She cries.

I cry.

It's incredibly frustrating.
She's been in speech for over a year. She's had her hearing checked twice. We don't know what the problem is--and that's frustrating too.

Okay, so here is the happy part of my post.

So, Little Miss doesn't say much.

She is healthy

She is happy.

She gives quite possibly the best hugs on the planet... 

and then enjoys forcing other to hug and kiss. :)

She IS smart!

She is loving.

She loves to read.

She has the best dance moves... ever!

She is my favorite little lady in the world.

And she will talk one day.

For now we'll do our signs and our few little words. 

And we'll keep going and keep trying.

Because heaven knows there are worse problems than this!

And as whiny as this post has been, I am grateful for my own trials and blessings and I wouldn't trade them with anyone.

{And if you said one of the above quotes to me (or all of them--> {Dad}:)) please don't stress. You're probably right. It's just hard to remember that on rougher days. Thanks for loving us!}

Top Ten Countdown: Joys of Motherhood

10. If you don't like your name, well you're in luck. You're about to get several new ones.

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!"

"Mooooooooommmm!"

"Mrs.--I mean Mom."

"Momma."

9. Everything in your closet suddenly matches. Because Poo stains always match Puke stains! 

Woo! Woo!

8. No more annoying alarm clocks. No worries, those littles will make sure you're up!

7. Plastic surgery! Bah! Don't waste your money. New baby = New bra size. 

6. Remember when records used to skip and repeat things over and over again. {okay you probably don't} Well, it was kind of funny. You may not have a record player, but that doesn't matter, because you'll hear yourself say things like: 

"Don't. Don't. Don't!!"

"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!!"

Broken record's are back!

5. You will gain New Skills!

Functioning on zero sleep.

Cooking, reading, walking all while nursing!

4. Conversations will be never the same again!

Anything goes!

Personal Smersonal.

You'll discuss things, events, parts of your body, you never thought you would!

3. Minivans have tons more room than Sports Cars.

2. Chocolate tastes better.

I swear it does. And it makes things all better too.

Plus you get much more for your $$ after you've had a baby.

More butt, more hips, more belly. 

More. More. More.

1. You'll never just stand still again. Whether there is a baby in your arms or not, from not on you'll sway.

Hmmm... that was my attempt at comedy.

There's probably a reason I don't do stand up. Haha.

Jim does it better than me:

Motherhood totally turns your life upside down. 

It's just the truth.

But there is no craziness (or non-craziness) better on this earth! It is the hardest and the best job in the world. 

It's a blessed job.

It's a divine job.

It's when you realize how much your capable of loving, because until you have a baby, you honestly don't know.

I could not be more thankful for my 4 little ones. 

They make me a better person every single day.

They fill my heart and my arms with the best love there is.

Happy Mother's Day!

THE talk

Yep, I'm talking about sex.

We did not talk about such things when I grew up. When I was a sophomore in High School Mom and I were watching Opera. The subject was about talking to your kids about sex. After the show Mom looked at me and said, "Jen, do we need to--" Ya, I quickly interrupted her with a horrified, "No!!"

I had quite possibly the sweetest mother on the planet. She was sweet and modest and a bit embarrassed and allowed the subject to be dropped. 

It isn't always a natural, easy feeling process to talk to your child about sex. 

But it's important.

I think it's become more important over the years too.

Sex is such a relaxed subject for people these days.

The thought of abstinence is absurd to most of the world.

Whereas when I grew up, I knew my mom's stand, even without THE talk.

So, knowing from personal experience that 16 is 

waaaaaaaaaaaaaay 

too late to start having THE talk and wanting to have open communication with my kids about these things I knew we needed to start early.

We started with #1 at age 11. I have friends who have started earlier and have had success too. 11 was when I felt comfortable and when I could persuade my husband to join us. :)

I needed help though. I needed direction. I looked at my sweet innocent son and thought how can I start this?? 

I wanted him to know it wasn't bad or dirty, but also the importance of right place, right time.

I found this book:

Click here to purchase Growing Up by Brad Wilcox

I seriously LOVE this book. 

It does not tred lightly. 

It spells it out for them.

And yet it does it in a really tactful and awesome way.

My husband and I took every other chapter. We'd go into his room at night and read AND discuss it with him. We wanted to allow him to ask questions. 

And believe me they will ask questions!

#1 is a bit more on the shyer side when it came to this subject. He didn't ask too much. Just a few and thankfully (for me) he didn't ask about mom and dad.

But L (#2) he's going to have dozens... I just know it. And the talk with L begins soon... (so this post is really my warm up!)

Talking about this with friends and family they've heard things from their children like:

"You're telling me you and dad have done that THREE times??"

(Yes, they had 3 kids at the time)

or

"How soon after I get married do I have to do this??"

Haha. 

I love sweet children! I am so thankful for their beauty and their innocence. And how wonderful is it we can talk to our kids about sex, teach them, love them, grow closer to them and set them on the right track right away!

Women who understand...

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints know that they, as women are honored and loved. They are respected and heard and given an abundance of opportunities and leadership roles. God made us different, men and women, He did that on purpose. Different gifts, different pieces to one puzzle, both given heavenly gifts and necessary to complete that puzzle.

The gift of motherhood, know how precious it is. Sheri L. Dew explained: “Motherhood is not what was left over after our Father blessed His sons with priesthood ordination. It was the most ennobling endowment He could give His daughters, a sacred trust that gave women an unparalleled role in helping His children…”

Their influence and responsibilities, take great care in what they do, as women and as mothers. D. Todd Christopherson taught: “A women’s moral influence is nowhere more powerfully felt or more beneficially employed than in the home. There is no better setting for rearing the rising generation than the traditional famiy, where a father and a mother work in harmony to provide for, teach and nurture their children.”

Don’t wish for a different role. They love and cherish the value of being a woman and a mother. They work hard, develop their talents, all while taking care of their homes and families. They value the priesthood, just as men should value the God given gifts of womanhood.

Elder Matthew Cowley taught that “men have to have something given to them [in mortality] to make them saviors of men, but not mothers, not women. [They] are born with an inherent right, an inherent authority, to be the saviors of human souls … and the regenerating force in the lives of God’s children.” 

Have hard times too. But they are strong, strong because of their gifts from a loving Heavenly Father. The preserver and make it work when no one else can, because they’re women—and that’s what we do.