Growing Up

This is Julianna's first year of girl's camp and our Young Women's president asked me months ago if I would go.  I sorta hemmed and hawed hoping that they would be able to find other leaders.  Pretty much just ignored the issue.  A few days ago I was asked - again about girls camp.  They are still short leaders and still need me to go.

So after hoping that the entire situation would resolve itself without me saying yes or no either way, (really I'm not normally so flaky)  I had give them a firm decision last Sunday.  I finally said yes.  Why was this such a big deal? 

One word : Bella.....

I have to leave her for an entire week and that will mean she will be truly independent of me for the first time ever.  I mean, we've left her over night but not a solid 24 hours.  It feels like a big deal to me.  Like the beginning of the end of the baby chapter in my life.  It feels like I'm committed to being out of babies.  Who knew that something as harmless as a girls camp could bring on so much emotion.  I'm ripping off my Bella bandaid.

After explaining some of my feelings to a friend in the ward she sent me this quote the other day. It moved me to see my feelings expressed so well: 

"A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out.

You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world.

But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after--oh, that's love by a different name.

She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she's gone to sleep. If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away. 

So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams.

You heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on her cheeks. She's the one you can't put down."

.Barbara Kingsolver.

Amen.

Epiphany

I heard a great talk Sacrament meeting a few weeks ago. It was about trying for perfection. The speaker gave a great  analogy about how like a marriage, we are in a partnership with Christ.  We can never be perfect on our own, but through the atonement we will be ok.  We just have to do the best we can with what we have every day.  She tied her lesson into this poem, which feels like my own biography.

Of course, I know what personal holes I have in my side walk, and each person is different.... But the poem reminded me of the responsibilities I have to avoid my OWN pitfalls.....


There Is a Hole in My Sidewalk

Autobiography in Five Short Chapter

By Portia Nelson

Chapter One

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost…I am helpless.

It isn’t my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend that I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I am in this same place.

But, it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep whole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in…it’s a habit…but,

My eyes are open

I know where I am

It is my fault.

I get out immediately,

Chapter Four

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter Five

I walk down another street.

Trying Again

I feel as though I've always written many of these blog posts as therapy for me.  Or at least a way to use my somewhat limited and strained creativity.  :)

The past year has been crazy.  Crazy busy, emotional, stressful, great - just plain crazy.  So keeping track of our lives and some of my thoughts through this blog has not been my priority.  But I think it's wrong of me to ignore this outlet of mine completely.

 So, I'm going to recommit AGAIN to keeping this little blog up to date.  It's important for me and my family.

I've been taking pictures and had thoughts to include here, I haven't forgotten about my blog absolutely, but now I'm going to make it happen.

There, I've written it.  I'm hitting publish on this little note and then I'm officially committed.

Here goes.......

Pinteresting....

I  know how or why I first became aware of pinterest, but I'm beginning to think I may have a problem. 

And then they made an App for it.  AN APP!!!!

I can get my fix all day, every day.  I'm going to have to start "doing" with my pins.  Just not admiring all of the cute, crafty projects from afar. 

Derek, Tyler, Michael and I all spoke together in church today.  I have to admit, even though it's always nervewracking to speak in church, I was proud of my boys and happy that we all got to speak together.

What fine young men we are raising.  They each gave great talks

What a fine just - man - I'm married to.  He gave an awesome talk.

I am one lucky lady...

And my "pinteresting" thought at the end of the day?   (See, pinterest is good for something...)

"Those who are the happiest, never did have everything.  But rather, they are thankful for everything they do have."

I am so thankful.

School Year Resolutions

School year: 2012-2013

School started and has me thinking about all the things I want to do this year. Maybe I should have "School year resolutions" instead of "New Year Resolutions" . The school schedule dictates how I live my life more than about anything else, don't you think? So here are my ponderings for this school year...

Say yes when I should and no when I shouldn't. And know the difference. I'm getting old enough to know better, time to figure it out.

Remember the reasons I do say yes to things. If it doesn't actually help out my family, then maybe I shouldn't spend my resources ie: time on it.

More spirituality in my home, especially music. My children are moved and motivated by good music. Almost all of them like to write music and play various instruments. Now it's up to me to use that to all of our advantage.

My daugter turns 12 in October. My goal is to treat her and continue to strengthen our relationship so she can blossom.

Read scriptures say prayers go to the Temple...

Organize my home, room by room.


Don't sweat the small stuff. No REALLY. Don't be a "freaker outer".

Wear skinny jeans sometimes. I borrowed cute Rachel's in Idaho and I really liked them. Cute and comfortable. Tyler told me it was only a "skinny jean fling" and a "one day wear" (because I am his MOM), but I will only wear them once in a while.

Work out, get a Brazilian blow out on my hair. Just a few "vain" things to enjoy my 40's before the wrinkles get serious...

Enjoy my family, enjoy life!

It's going to be a good year. :)

"Brave"

OK, first of all,  Spoiler Alert... I'm going to discuss the movie "Brave" at length.

We took the family to see the movie Brave today.  While I was expecting kind of a "chick flick," what I was NOT expecting was to leave the movie barely able to stifle sobbing. 

It wasn't a sad movie, no it had a very happy ending.  However, the premise of the movie hit so close to home, and touched on so many aspects of a mother daughter relationship that I recognize I cried like  a "little girl" (Bella's words) throughout the movie.

So, Brave was all about a mother who was trying to make her daughter, Merida be the "perfect" princess.  Mom's intentions are good and she only wants what is best for Merida but she spends so much time trying to convince and force her to be something she just isn't she never really knows her daughter.

It comes to the point where Merida runs away, and finds a witch to cast a spell to "change" her mother to change her fate.  The spell ends up turning her mother into a large bear and bears happen to be her father's nemesis in life.  (Unecessary tangent here, so I'll just leave it at that.) The rest of the movie shows how Merida and her mother's relationship grows and changes while her mother is in the shape of a bear.  How they learn to appreciate each other and love each other for who they are.

So all of my family knows that Jules and I are completely different in so many ways.  I spent years trying to get her to wear pink sparklies, do mani/pedis with me, curl her hair and make it fancy.  Basically I tried for a very long time to make her me.  I finally came to peace with our differences while I was pregnant with Bella.  One last "Cotton Blossom Pageant" disaster was the final straw.  I decided once and for all I'd just leave her be and let her have her own style and stop putting so much pressure on her.

Well, I thought that we were doing pretty good at our relationship.  I was leaving her alone to be who she wanted to be, and I found some solace in the fact that Bella got enough "princess" genes for the entire family (me included).   Until one daylast year, I had a little epiphany that I hadn't asked Jules how she was doing for days.  (And who knows how many.)  I called her into my room and just started asking her questions about her life.  In the course of this conversation she says to me, "you know mom, sometimes I feel like I'm just raising myself." 

OUCH.  Like, knife in heart.  I think that I was so busy trying to just leave her be, and not try to make her into something she wasn't, I took it too far by not engaging her enough to find out who she WAS and get to know her on her terms.

I was very grateful that she verbalized herself so well.  I would've hated it if she felt that way her entire youth and never gave me a chance to correct it.

All this was going through my mind today as I was watching "Brave."  We were leaving and I put my arm around Julianna and I asked her if some of the movie looked familiar.  She smiled and said, "kind of."   I replied look, I will try really hard not to ask you to use a straight iron on your hair, just don't turn me into a bear.

"Hmmm mom, I can't make any promises."  :) 

Well I'm going to keep trying to make it hard for her to even consider it.  Love that Jules, she is "Brave" too. 

A Failed Experiment

First of all, I've been busy.  Very busy.  If at some point I can catch up my blog, I will but meanwhile I was inspired tonight so I will start with today.

Here is my cautionary tale.

So, I know that many (all) of you, especially my sisters suffer from the same malady.  WE HATE LAUNDRY.  I dislike everything about it; sorting it, loading it, folding it and putting it away.  Well the busier my family seems to get, the sloppier our children get with their clothes.

Add to this that my children wear a uniform to school.  On any given day my children go through a mininum of three sets of clothes.  THREE!!  Uniform, "Play clothes" and PJ's.  Times that by five and add in a little girlie that changes clothes more than three times a day and two adults.  You are talking literally mountains of laundry.

Well, I was beginning to feel an anyerism coming on by the end of the school year.  It seemed like no matter how much organizing I did in the laundry room, the clothes seemed to seep further and further down the hallway and into the rest of the house.  The piles in the laundry room were larger and larger, the kids stopped using their baskets and piles dirty clothes by their door.  So I finally had it, and went on strike.

I've done bare minimum of laundry for the past two and half weeks.  I've washed my sheets, cleaned any clothing that was mandatory.  (Sunday, undies, sheets, anything that got wet - just basics...) 

Don't get me wrong.  There have been grumblings.  Derek insists I'm punishing him.  (I'm not!  I keep telling him I will wash anything he sets aside for me...)  Tyler has different sports camps every day.  I finally had some sympathy for him (and his team mates) last week when I accidentally smelled his socks.  GROSS!!!  So I've made sure his things were clean but everyone else seemed to have enough clothing to get by.  Especially when they spend most of their time in swim suits.

Until today.

I am up against a deadline here.  I have to get two boys ready for EFY and a trip to Utah.  Guess what!?  I have LOADS of laundry to do!!!  And there is only one washer, and one dryer, and only so many hours in the day.  So now, my laundry strike is over and what I've discovered is the only person that has major consequences from this strike, is me.  I will be doing laundry from yesterday, until the time I walk out the door in two days.

Not only that, many of the things that I've discovered during laundry room excavation are truly disturbing. (And we will leave it at that.)

The moral of the story is (I think), better to suffer an anyerism, than strike.  AND this summer, my kids are going to learn to do laundry.  :)