Jack of All Trades...

I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I'd like to say it started in conjunction with the new year and the opportunity it presents to set goals, but really, it's been hanging on for the better part of a year. You see, I just don't know where to point myself. It's not that I don't have ideas. Really, its that I have too many interests and ideas. 

How can that be, you say? How is it possible to have too many interests or ideas? 

As the saying goes, I'm somewhat of a "jack of all (or at least many) trades, master of none." 

And that's where the funk comes in. Being good at many things is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but I've turned a corner where my heart's desire is to be a MASTER of something (other than embarrassing my kids). But, what? 

Writing? Marketing? Building? Designing? Baking? Healthy cooking? Painting? Gardening? Health and fitness? 

Have you ever tried to make a PB and J but just didn't have enough PB? You pull the scraper out and try to get every last drop out of the jar, right? Well, I've scraped the jar clean and I've got plenty for one sandwich. But for years I've been using that portion to make three, or four, or even more. As much as I can't keep stretching, I cant seem to let go either. 

Yes, I'm stubborn - probably ridiculously so! 

And so, I hedge forward, dragging my feet like a toddler on her way to somewhere she doesn't want to go. I feel like I'm pushing someone off the train. 

But if I can't part ways with one - or five - of my " good trades",  then honestly, it's me that's going to fall off the train! 

So I've spent the last several weeks, whittling down my to-do list. I've compromised with the voices in my head...and I even feel good about most of the task-list carnage. 

But two remain. And I don't just want both of them, I NEED them. Emotionally and mentally they are ingrained in me. But can I do it? Is it possible to be a Master of two trades? 

That time I bit off more than I can chew

Brick work done, now just need to fill with topsoil and build the Cottage/Shed

A few months ago I made mention of a project I was getting ready to tackle. My ever patient husband had agreed to let me purchase 1000 reclaimed antique bricks for the purpose of building some new garden boxes. I promised an update on that project upon completion and - sigh, gasp, fist-pump! - it's finally done... Well, at least the brick part of it.

The truth of the matter is, this was a big project and I knew it. What I didn't know, however, was just how big it was.

It started early this spring... in a corner of our yard formerly know as the "Playground."

As tends to happen, our kids had outgrown their playset. The day we decided to let the it go, was a sad day. It'd already sat virtually untouched for a couple of years and the idea of holding on to it for the enjoyment of our (distant) future grandchildren didn't appeal to me or my husband. It was time to let someone else love and care for our awesome swingset. 

And so, we sold it.

Which left us with a big, bare spot... And even bigger ideas and plans! 

I decided to build a garden "cottage" (aka shed) where the trampoline was and move my garden boxes to the newly vacated playground area. This, of course, meant we needed to pipe water to the area.

That was one of those moments (days really) where having a large lot was NOT exciting. To get water to the new garden box area we had to trench 97 feet across our yard through sod, rocks, and the most ridiculously hard clay you can imagine. (At least we didn't have to go the whole 150ish feet across the yard. That might have been a deal breaker!)

Once the water line was run, I moved our peach tree and our apple tree to their new homes. The peach tree managed the move gloriously... the apple tree not so much.

Then, Prince Charming authorized the purchase of my BEAUTIFUL bricks. 

With the help of our children, moving roughly 5000 lbs of bricks wasn't too daunting. We stacked them along the parameter of the garden area so they'd be out of the way when I began construction.

Now, I've done a lot of handy-manish projects, but brick laying has never been one of them. I had a pretty good idea how things should go, but to solidify my ideas I attended several sessions at the University of YouTube. The masonry pros made it look easy and before long I was confident that I understood the technique.

So I got down and dirty. Literally. As it turns out, masonry isn't as easy or as clean as I thought it should be. 

I can't tell you how many hours it took to lay those darn bricks, but each and every one of them was grueling. It did't take me long to realize that trying to make PERFECT BOXES out of IMPERFECT BRICKS was a PERFECT TEST of my IMPERFECT PATIENCE. 

And, oh how I celebrated the moment I placed that last little brick! I tucked my tools in my garage with a vow that I will NEVER do masonry work again. 

We will fill these beauties up with topsoil (and a new apple tree) early next spring! Then, I get to build my cottage. And, no, it will not have bricks on it.... a covered porch, stone work, and shutters, but not a single little brick! 

Reflect. Resolve. Move Forward. - Setting Goals for the New Year

Like most of you, I've spent a lot of time over the last several days and even weeks resolving to make some resolutions. And, as I suppose you've likely done, I've made a list. If you've been a follower of my blog for a while, you will know that I am a list-maker. And, if I'm being honest here, I probably should preface list-maker with something like "obsessive" or "master,"... or if you ask my husband, "ridiculous."  For the sake of this post - and for no other reason than I'm really into all things British right now - I'd like to use the adjective "brilliant." Are you good with that? Lovely.

I've been on a quest for the last handful of years to try to simplify my life. Two years ago I made a "little" (haha!) list about my resolution to do just that. (I've Never Attained a Goal I Didn't First Write Down). 2013 was the year I actually followed through and cleared my plate of many projects, activities, and service opportunities that I dearly love. Ironically enough, the more I try to simplify, the more complex things seem to get... So, here I am, simplifying yet again!

I've decided to preface my goal list with this thought from Thomas S. Monson:

"Our task is to become our best selves. One of God's greatest gifts to us is the joy of trying again, for no failure ever need to be final." 

So now the big question: Where to start?

1. Reflect - How do I become my best self? What are my weak spots? 
2. Resolve - Commit to make a change... Here's an idea: I'll make a plan. 
3. Move forward  - Take ACTION! Make it happen! 

And on that note, here it is, my SHORT list for the year (just 5 things, believe it or not!). Keepin' it simple and shooting for awesome. I'm going to call it:

Reflect. Resolve. Move Forward. 

1. Physical - Yeah, this is where you'll find the "I need to lose x amount of pounds" jibber-jabber. But, it's more than that. This is not a goal to find the skinny girl I must've eaten, (though that'd be a nice side-benefit) but to find the healthy, strong, energetic girl I know I can be.  - My plan: going sugar-free and eating clean again. Also getting back in to the habit of daily exercise. And this time I'm dragging the husband along with me. Why? Because its a lot easier to make healthy choices when you've got a partner in crime.

2. Spiritual - LDS Prophet Gordon B. Hinckley once mentioned that, even after 90+ years on this earth, he still learned something new every day. Like him, I want to be a seeker of knowledge of all types. This year, I particularly want to strengthen my spiritual knowledge.  - My plan: to finish reading the New Testament by early spring, then to do some indepth study on a few subjects such as the Second Coming of our Savior, the Three Nephites, and the apostle John.

3. Professional - Not so much, where do I want to go with my writing this year? But more like, where am I going to take my writing this year?  - My plan: I'm ready to assert a more aggressive approach to all things writing/publishing related. More specifically: I plan to complete 4 books by years end, including at least 2 that will be released before Christmas.

4. Financial - I like money. I like things. But more importantly, I like security. Which means, I think it's time to tighten up the budget, cut the slack, and do some better planning for my future. - My plan: Be more responsible. Cut the frivolous spending. Rethink my budget and stick to it. Easy enough, right?

5. Personal/Family - This really should be at the top of my list. My kids are growing up so fast and with one 5,000 miles from home and another who will be leaving the nest before I know it, I've realized how quickly my time with them is speeding by. By the end of the year I may be the shortest person in our house (I already have the smallest feet!) and I just can't afford to miss out on my children's lives.  - My plan: Be a more involved mother. Laugh more. Play more. Live in the moment.


And that's it. No big projects. No unattainable milestones. No ridiculous expectations. Just me, simply trying to be the best me that I can be.

Best wishes in your journeys this year. I hope you attain the goals you've set, but more so, I hope that you appreciate the moments that make up each day. Cherish the people who love you, be thankful for the opportunities you have to grow, and always... always... strive to be the best you that you can be - not just to fulfill a New Year's resolution, but as a life goal. Remember, you don't have to wait for the new year to hit reset.

The Gift I Can Not Give

I sat down today in an attempt to finalize my Christmas shopping list. Strangely enough, I've never waited this long into the season to pull everything together. Even more strange is the fact that I'm not having a nervous breakdown about my lack of preparation... yet!

I logged on to my laptop and started to build a spreadsheet. (Oh how I love feeling organized!) I started by making a column for each member of our family then created a list of the things I'd already purchased. A quick glance told me I needed some ideas, so I pulled out the handwritten wish-lists from my children and gave them the once-over.

Boo's list was pretty cut and dry. The first six things listed were custom remote control cars. I guess an eleven year old's gotta dream, right? Numbers seven through ten, however, seemed doable.

At first glance, Lu's list made me chuckle. It was a short list, consisting of only six items. Rocky? I thought out loud as I read number six. Why would she want something she already has? Silly girl.

I played with the idea for a minute, thinking I should totally just slap a bow on our cute little Rocky and call it good. Easy. Funny. We'd all have a good laugh.

Then, I had an epiphany. In hindsight I realize I should have had it sooner. My girl wasn't trying to be facetious or even funny. She wasn't trying to make me laugh. She was, in fact, asking for the truest desire of her heart.

You see, Rocky is one of our dogs. He is old, he is nearly blind, and he is Lu's best friend. They are about the same age and I'd guess that they don't remember life without each other. Last year, right before Christmas in fact, we got word that our sweet Rocky was in the advanced stages of heart failure. He wasn't expected to make it long. The fact that he's still with us is a miracle. And to Lu, its more than that, it's a literal answer to her prayers.

So, when I read her Christmas wish-list, my heart breaks. No amount of money can buy her what she wants. There is nothing I can do, nothing I can say, no strings I can pull, or mountains I can climb to fulfill her Christmas wish.  

All I can do is keep praying that this cute little guy keeps hanging on. I know he can't live forever, and that the eventuality of his exit is imminent, but if we can just get through Christmas...

Why is goodbye so hard?

"Why is goodbye so hard?" he steals the words from my mind. Vocalizing them triggers my heightened emotions once again.

My boy, on the brink of manhood, crumbles into my arms. "It's hard," I manage through the tender tears of motherhood, "because you are going to miss the ones you love."

By nature I am not a super emotional person, I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't shed tears on a regular basis. But when it comes to my children - their health, their success, and their happiness - there is not a strand of my being that isn't emotionally bound. Seeing my boy hurt, hurts me.

We share a moment of tenderness - something that doesn't happen much between red personalities. "It's going to hurt," I don't even try to sugar coat it, "because you care." I look for another tidbit of wisdom to offer, but all I can muster are sympathetic tears.


There are parts of this journey I didn't plan for. Parts that if I'd taken off my OCD, planning, organizing, checking-off-the-to-do-list hat for just a moment, I'd have seen coming: Saying goodbye to your family is hard... saying goodbye to your best friend may be even harder.  

Though I sent many good friends off on their missions, I never had to bid the two year farewell to my best friend. My heart breaks. I can only imagine the pain. He has many good friends... Great ones, even. His best friend is someone we all love. Saying good bye is hard.

"It's okay to cry," I comfort through my own damp eyes. "You're doing what's right." We both know it. We also both know that things will work out, if not the way we plan, then as something even better.

Saying goodbye is hard, but with each day that passes we will know that he is busily engaged in the Lord's work. We will all grow. We will all benefit. His service will touch many - both at home and abroad.

Good bye, my son! May God bless you. We love you. Return with honor!

Life on target... or missing it (I'm not sure which!)

For those of you who regularly follow my blog, you may have noticed that I've been MIA for a bit...

I wish I had a great adventure story to tell as to why I've been missing but unless you consider pushing my senior through his last several weeks of high school (more like dragging him!), cheering on my sophomore's  homework endeavors, balancing my 6th and 4th graders end of year projects, tackling my son's pre-mission to-do list (shopping, doctors, visas, temple prep, etc.), training a puppy, and keeping up on the never-to-be complete yard work an adventure, I've got nothing. Okay, who am I trying to fool: motherhood is anything but nothing!

Not gonna brag, but when the kids are all at school I do pretty good juggling it all -  motherhood, writing, reading, journaling, taking care of the house, managing the money. But as soon as the days start to warm up, spring fever burns so hot we... meaning me, mostly... go crazy!

I haven't sat still for weeks. Too much to do! Tomorrow, as with all my proceeding tomorrows, I hope for a breather. What I wouldn't give for a minute alone to bask in the pages of a book... or, better yet, to actually finish the final edits on my soon-to-be released romantic suspense. But tomorrow, like today, will likely find me frantically crossing off one thing from my list just to add four more. :)

So, here's to life. Here's to having people to love and projects to conquer! Maybe someday I'll be able to hit every target I aim for, but in the mean time, I'm gonna try to enjoy every minute I get with these children who are all too quickly becoming adults.

Five Virtues of Successful Parenting

I'm asked from time to time when I'm going to write a book on parenting. After I finish laughing, I am humbled by the compliment. I suppose those queries are a testament to the great children whom I'm blessed to have in my home. I'm not sure the credit is mine or my husbands to take alone, but I am sure there are some keys - virtues if you will - that have helped us along the way: 

Patience - Patience, while being a virtue, is also a process. I use to think that I fared pretty good on the good ol' patience scale... Life has since proved me wrong! Regardless of the chapter you find yourself in, parenting can be the ultimate test of patience. And, it's not like your children purposely try to dance on your nerves... oh, who am I kidding? Yes, they sometimes do!! But most of the time, the knot-wrenching they cause is inadvertent and honestly innocent.  

Be patient. Bite your tongue. Breathe. The most valuable lesson I've learned as a parent is to pick my battles. Ask yourself if the supposed infraction is really that important. Is your child hurting himself or others? Is he causing damage to property? Or, is he simply exploring his world, learning its natural boundaries, and in the process, making a mess of your pristine home? Be reasonable, rational, and realistic with your expectations. Not only will your children benefit as you step back and relax, your physical wellness will thank you too.

Humility - I remember the first time I screwed up as a parent... Okay, probably not the first time, but the first blatantly obvious time. While we may not like to give breath to our weaknesses or our failures, lets admit it, we are not perfect. I don't care who you are, at some point you will take a wrong step in your parenting adventures. Painful as it may be to your pride, admitting your faults is not a sign of weakness. In fact, little words like "I'm sorry," or "Can you please help me?" are imperative to becoming a good parent. If you are unwilling to recognize your faults, how can you improve upon them? Successful parents are teachable parents. Learn to apologize when you fall - especially to your children! Be teachable and understanding. 

Pride - I'm not talking about the "puffed up" kind of pride that the Bible so importantly reminds us to avoid. Talents, success, beauty, and even smarts should not be the target of our affection. While it's important to recognize our children's strengths and abilities, it's also important that they know you are proud of them regardless of the trophies, honors, or accolades they receive. I've been in several situations where parent's play the "one-up" game using their children as their pawns. "My kid does x,y, and z..." "Oh yah, well my kid does a, b, c, and D!!" What if your child doesn't do x,y, z, a, b, c, or d? Does that make him/her an invalid person? What if Johnny doesn't play football but instead finds joy in serving others? What if Janey doesn't like to dance but loves to lose herself in books? 

My children may never earn a Pulitzer, a Heizman, or a Grammy, but that doesn't negate the fact that they are amazing people. Be proud of who they are, not what they can do. Thankfully we all come with our own personalities, talents, and interests. Our hobbies and interests may not be the same as our children's... and that's okay! At the end of the day, the potential size of your child's future paycheck or the number of trophies that adorn his/her wall are not important. Their ability to love and to feel love, however, is. Rather than trying to force your interests on your children, why not let them discover their own? Embrace their uniqueness and find pride in the gift of parenthood. All children - both yours and mine - have the potential to do much good in this world. Teach them to love and respect themselves and humanity, and you will always have cause to be proud.  

Humor - Laugh. Life's too precious and too short to be serious 100% of the time. Sure, there's a time and a place to be all buttoned up and serious, but there are also appropriate times to let loose and laugh! Find joy in your parenting journey. Fill your home with laughter. Children are delightful. Parenthood is tough, but it can also be fun! Play  with you kids. Kick back and enjoy a good belly jiggling, tear-invoking, snort-inducing laugh. 

Gratitude - Every night I hit my knees to thank my Heavenly Father for entrusting me with the care and nurture of His beautiful, valuable children. Parenthood is not an opportunity any of us should take lightly. As parents - and even grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends - we have an obligation to teach, prepare, and ultimately love the little people in our lives. While most of my children are no longer technically "little people" (three of them are as big or bigger than me) they are still precious children of our Heavenly Father... and they will always be my babies! 

I know that there are certain phases of your child's progression where time may seem to drag by, but believe me when I tell you to cherish those moments. Nobody loves tripping over collections of baby dolls or having little legos brutally lodged into the sole of your foot, but be grateful for them, for that chapter of innocent chaos will close sooner than you expect. I know it's cliche to say so, but they really do grow up soooo fast. Diapers turn to playdates, then homework, then real dates and driving, and then.... sigh... 

Be grateful for each step of the journey. Be humble, teachable, patient, loving, and full of joy. Cherish every moment, create memories, and look forward to each amazing chapter! 

 

Called to Serve... Getting the fateful mission call

Last night, in a much anticipated event in the Mormon culture to which I happily belong, our family gathered to open my son's mission call. Over the next few years, I'm sure I will find occasion to share some experiences from his mission on this blog. Realizing that not all of my awesome readers share my faith, I feel that perhaps a little explanation may be necessary:

What is an LDS missionary? 

LDS Missionaries are young men (18-19 year olds) and women (19-21 year olds) that leave their homes and devote two years (18 months for females) as representatives of Jesus Christ. These young people leave their families, their friends, their internet, and even their cell phones. They postpone their work/schooling, pay their own way, and most often live in very humble circumstances. They do not choose where they will serve, and it is anything but a two-year vacation. So why, you may ask, would they volunteer their service? It's really quite simple: As members of the LDS (Mormon) church, we strive to keep the Savior, Jesus Christ, as the center of our lives. We have faith in Him, love Him, and find joy in His service. Because we have felt His love and know the peace He can bring to our lives, we invite others to learn of Him and accept Him in their lives.  For more information about missionaries and their work, you can visit Mormon.org.

Talk of my son's mission has filled the walls of our home for years. Since he was little, his desire to serve the Lord has been humbling. As his mother, I am so pleased with the young man that he has grown into. I am excited to see him prepare himself to be worthy and willing to dedicate his time, talents, and the fullness of himself in the hopes of bringing others to Christ. I am just beginning to realize the scope of this commitment and the sacrifice it will be for both him as well as for our family and I am honored to be the mother of such an amazing young man.

What does it take to be a missionary?

There is much preparation that must take part before a missionary can serve. One must first learn of the Savior, develop faith in Him, and strive to live His commandments. Missionaries are not perfect; however, just like other faithful Christians, they are striving to live as Heavenly Father would have them live. This is not an overnight process but a life-long journey. There is much learning a missionary must do to prepare to serve. He/she should know and understand the commandments, faithfully read and be familiar with the scriptures (both the Bible and the Book of Mormon), and attend their church meetings to further their learning of the gospel. A missionary also must be clean...clean from drugs, alcohol, sexual relations, unhealthy habits, and unlawful acts. 

Prospective missionaries essentially apply for their mission by submitting their "papers" to LDS Church Headquarters in Salt Lake City, Utah. These "papers" include documentation from their doctor and dentist stating their physical eligibility, recommendations from their bishop and stake president (local church leaders) about their worthiness, and a series of personal questions. Upon receipt, members of the First Presidency prayerfully make each mission assignment. 

My son completed his papers and his interview with our bishop and stake president a week and a half ago. Typically it takes two weeks to receive your call (aka: assignment). However, because of the recent age change for prospective missionaries, the influx of submitted papers has spiked, thus slowing the process in some cases to 6 weeks. Imagine our surprise when, after only a week and a half, we got his fate-filled envelope in the mail!!!

We gathered our family together - some via phone - to share in the experience as he opened the envelope... and, essentially the unveiling of where his next two years would be spent. Having no control over where your 18 year old is going to be for two years is a bit nerve wracking for any mother. Honestly, for me, it was a HUGE test of faith. 

As we waited on pins and needles, I could only imagine where he might go. Would he be going foreign or domestic? Familiar or completely new? Tropical or perhaps even arctic? Would he have to learn a new language? What kind of cultural changes were in store?

I know I'm not the only one that was shaking with anticipation as he gently tore into the envelope! 

Though I'm not a crier, I was prepared for tears. What I got instead was an overwhelming confirmation that Heavenly Father does, indeed, know my son! His call wasn't one that I'd even considered, but as I looked at my beaming son, I KNEW it was exactly where he was supposed to go. 

Because of the public nature of this blog, I've chosen not to share the location to which he has been called. He might be legally an adult, but my mama instinct tells me I still need to protect him. To those who know my family personally, I will be glad to share. For the rest of my amazing readers, I will tell you this: he has been called to serve in one of the beautiful countries of his ancestors  He is both excited and qualified for the experience that lies before him. I have no doubt that he will touch the lives of those whose paths he crosses. I also have no doubt that the Lord will always be mindful of him. 

Failure: A Critical Key to Success?

I sat on the edge of my cold metal chair, acutely aware of the stagnant middle school gym air. My son lobbed his way down the wood planked court, awkwardly handling the basketball for as little time as he could possibly manage before passing it to one of his more confident teammates. Though it was one of the final games of his inaugural season of little league basketball -  and, though his skill level had grown substantially over the proceeding weeks -  his confidence still wavered. On a league of nine and ten year olds, I imagine a lot of the boys were in a similar place.

Each time my son handled the ball, I celebrated his victory. Each time he defended a play or snagged a rebound, I celebrated his victory. That's what parents do, right? We cheer our children on and support them in their growth and accomplishment.

But what happens when those shots and attempts fall flat?

Flanked by my husband on the left and a loud, verbally diarrhetic father on the right, I watched the game unfold. (For the record, I do not know who this man was.) Play after play the father sitting beside me groaned at each missed shot his son's team made. When the other team scored, he belly ached. The game, in his eyes, was clearly "unfare." When someone stole the ball from his son, it was, of course, a travesty!  When the score reached a certain divide, he claimed it was too painful to the losing team and the ref's should just erase the score and allow the boys to play for fun. He further belly-ached that the "good" players should be benched or at very least, not allowed to shoot any more baskets.

As painful as it was for this father to see his child struggle, I wonder if there was actual merit to clearing the scoreboard. Was his child - or any child for that matter - at risk of long term or irreparable trauma?

Of course, as parents, we all want our children to succeed. The very suggestion that someone would want to see their child fail is ridiculous. But at what point does good intentioned parenting cross the line? Is it possible that our instinct to protect can actually inhibit our child's potential for growth? Can protecting our children from failure actually be detrimental to their future success?

I think we'd all agree that those feelings of defeat are horrible; even unbearable at times. Let's be honest, failure sucks! But if we were never allowed to taste defeat, how would we know the sweet savor of victory? Some of my biggest accomplishments came on the heels of some of my greatest struggles. Most successful people experienced struggle and even failures before experiencing success. Walt Disney's first business failed. Henry Ford's first two automobiles failed. Soichiro Honda was turned down a job by Toyota Motors and spent many years jobless. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team because he lacked skill. Albert Einstein was encouraged to drop out of school because his teacher told him that he'd "never amount to anything." Abraham Lincoln had 12 failed political runs before becoming the 16th President of the United States.

Failure, whether we want to admit it or not, helps us grow. When we shelter our children from the "soft" failures of childhood and adolescence, are we not depriving them of the opportunity to gain crucial life-long skills? If they don't learn to rebound and adapt as children, how then as adults will they know how to solve problems and overcome adversity?

Life isn't always fair. Sometimes we face opponents that are better than us. Sometimes we give our all and somehow we still come up short.  But we don't become winners by ignoring the score! We become winners by working hard, admitting defeat, recognizing our need for improvement, and overcoming our weakness.

My son didn't score a single point for his team that afternoon, but he learned, he grew, and he kept going even when the chips were down. There was no expectation that the playing field would be leveled to his ability, nor was there any need for the score to be equalized. He may never be a basketball phenomena (or perhaps he will, who knows?) but if he picks up a stone each time he falls, overtime he will have collected enough to build a staircase to the stars!

What are you willing to do to invite the Spirit into your home?

This week I've had the opportunity to attend multiple sessions of our Stake Conference and while I've been greatly fed with inspired thoughts and messages, there is one thought that has implanted itself in the forefront of my mind:

What are YOU willing to do to invite the Spirit into your home?

Not, "what are you doing to encourage or teach or compel others to invite the Spirit?" Not even, "what are you currently doing?" If you're home isn't as Christ-centered as it could be, if a spirit of contention keeps rearing it's ugly face, if happiness doesn't fill your walls, WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO DO TO CHANGE IT? 

Imagine for a moment a place full of tranquility, peace, kindness and love.



If you're home is anything like ours, tranquility can seem an almost impossible destination. With two teenagers, a tween-ager, and a energetic ten year old, a moment of peace can often be hard to find. We juggle busy schedules, stacks of homework, household chores, and family time among other things. I trip over backpacks, pick up discarded candy wrappers, and search frequently for misplaced shoes. On top of it all, we seem to be under the constant influence of  the TV, computer, or iPods. And, as much as I'd like to believe that other's are living in the blissful state of Utopia, I can't help but wonder if we are more normal than not.

More than once I've been accused of setting the bar high for myself and my household, but I think it's safe to say that most of us desire a happy, clean, chaos free environment to one degree or another.  Peace cannot coexist with contention. It is impossible for light and dark to fill the same space. In short, Satan cannot bare his influence where the Spirit of the Lord dwells.

"One of our greatest goals as parents should be to enjoy the power and influence of the Holy Ghost in our homes."  (Joseph B. Wirthlin)

I invite you to ponder, as I have, the degree to which you have the Spirit in your life. Are you happy? Are you doing anything in your life or in your home that might offend the Spirit? Are you spending your time in pursuit of pleasure at the cost of more important things? Do the programs you watch and the music you listen to overpower the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost? Are you kind? Forgiving? Patient?

Each of us holds the power to change. As parents I think we sometimes forget that it is not our right to change our children. We can't force change upon anyone. Even the best laid intentions to force someone to do something beyond their will is in fact contrary to the agency our Heavenly Father desired for us. The only person we can change is ourself! We can look for "teaching moments" and carefully try to influence our children towards good decisions, but ultimately they need to be allowed to exercise their independence. Thus, I can encourage my children to solve their conflicts constructively and with kindness, but I also need to recognize the possibility that I could (unintentionally) be part of the problem. The influence of one can have immeasurable impact on many.

Which brings me back to my original question, but this time I pose it in a more personal prose:

What am I willing to do to invite the Spirit into my home?
What am I willing to change? What am I willing to sacrifice? What am I willing to let slide, to forgive, to repent of, or to do differently in order to be personally worthy of the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost.

It really is a question of choice... we can choose to direct our path towards true happiness or we can choose to continue down the dead-end road to despair. Either way, the choice is ours. Choose wisely, however, for we will reap what we sow.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 12 - Clean Closets

If you're unfamiliar with OCD, it comes in various forms. There are washers, doubters, checkers, counters, hoarders, and as is my case, arrangers. I don't like the word "arranger" though - it lacks that smooth-roll-off-ones-tongue ability. I prefer "organizer."

As you might imagine, in a house with six people, maintaining organization isn't an easy feat. There are moments when my obsessive need for order finds me fighting the compulsion to clean up everything.... the right way! (Which, FYI, is always my way!) I have to remind myself that it's okay for the cereal boxes to be out of order, for the dishwasher to be loaded chaotically, for the bath towels to be folded in halves (instead of thirds) and randomly sorted instead of color coded. These, I'm trying to convince myself, are normal habits of non-OCDer's and there's not harm in being NORMAL...

Or, is there?

Needless to say, I'm always grateful for any semblance of order I can find... and keep. Today that order exists in my closet. (Not the kids closets, mind you. Those you'd be good to sport a face mask before opening.) Their color-coded, equally spaced, neatly arranged order - while it may seem ridiculous to you - brings peace to my chaos and puts a smile on my face.

Independence or Helicoptering?

Any parent of a teenager knows what I'm talking about: It's that tight-wire walk between allowing your kid enough space to make his/her own choices (even if they aren't good ones!) or being that ever-present, over-baring, stockerish, helicopter parent.

I'd like to believe that no parent wants to just throw their child out to the sharks (though, sadly, it happens far too often), but I'd also like to think that parents understand that need for independence and learning. How do you strike the balance? How do you support independence without giving up your parental responsibilities? How do you love, support, and teach without being overbearing? How do you teach your child to make good choices without ramming those choices down their throat?

Where is the balance?

I'm a big promoter of "raising adults." I don't want my children to be TAKERS of society, rather I have visions of them being CONTRIBUTORS. And, I don't think it's ever too early to start teaching natural consequences and skills that will further independence. It starts when my children enter kindergarten and they learn how to make their own lunch. Each year they gain new skills, including money management, nutrition, chores, personal laundry, etc.  By the time they hit highschool they're on to DRIVING, dating, and maybe even a job!

UGH, driving! The ultimate test of independence!

As much as I love raising independent, enabled children, I will admit I've reached a stage that has been hard for me. While I am grateful for a teenager that is responsible (most of the time, anyway), self-starting, and hardworking, his level of independence is hitting me hard. Giving him the freedom (aka trust) to make his own choices is at times excruciating. Watching him fall is even harder.

But is holding his hand the right solution? Should I be in his face and up in his "business" every minute of every day?  - I don't think so... but sometimes I just wanna do it anyway!

The hard fact is that at some point, every child needs their independence. I suppose that magic age is different for every child. For my son, it's been a slow progression starting when he was about 12. For one of my daughters it started when she was fresh out of the womb. Each child is different and I don't believe a single set of guidelines would sufficiently cover all four of my children's needs. What is right for one may not be right for another. And, thus we progress - parent's and children alike - towards their independence. Hopefully towards a future that finds them prepared and capable contributors.

And, more importantly, towards a future that finds them successfully hitting their personal targets... without mommy and daddy hovering over them, directing their aim, and pulling the trigger. Why? Because I cherish my independence and I love my children enough to want them to have it too.

Juggling

How and when did life become a circus? Seriously? You know what I'm talking about. Some of us are ring-masters, some lion-tamers, and some tight-rope walkers. I, like most modern day women, in addition to being all of the aforementioned, have also become a juggler.

I used to have everything under control (or at least I thought I did), but the older my kids get the more balls seem to get tossed into the air. Okay, in fairness to my children, its not all their fault. In fact, most of the circus act is probably my own doing.

I think its safe to say that many women suffer from the same problem. We like to stay busy. We like to be involved. We like to get things done... But sometimes everything we put on ourselves becomes crippling. To say our plates are full would be an understatement. But, honestly, which ball would you choose to drop? I don't know about you, but I'm kind of emotionally attached to each one of mine. I'm afraid that if I let one go, it'll throw off my rhythm and others would fall too.

What to do? How can we maintain balance?

Here's a couple of things I've learned...okay, some of them I'm still learning:

1. Learn to say "No."  - Admittedly, I am working on this one. I'm passionate about so many things that when opportunities come my way, I try to squeeze them in. Mind you, there are many worthwhile opportunities for service, but if they come at the cost of your sanity or your family, it's okay to say "No."

2. Organize. - Whether its online or on paper, organize! Calendar your life and simplify. Don't over schedule yourself; this also means don't underestimate how much time things will take. Give yourself time to breath between tasks.

3. Prioritize. - Some things are simply more important than others. Family always comes first on my list. No matter what my personal agenda is, my children and husband come first. I try not to schedule personal things during my family time, which essentially means taking care of all my stuff while they are at school so that the evenings can be "mom-time."

4. Delegate. - Again, as a person with OCD I struggle with this one. I like things done my way, but at what cost? Look at all the balls you've got in the air and ask yourself which ones you are willing to let someone help you with. For me, its housework. Granted, it doesn't always get done the way I want it done, but... it gets done!

5. Learn to let some things go. - Okay, again with the OCD... this is difficult! Ask yourself: "Is this really important? Will it improve the quality of our lives? Will it help me or someone else? Will it matter tomorrow, next week, or next year?" Get rid of stuff that's unhealthy, unproductive, or unnecessary.

Does CLEAN really make us feel better?

"Mom, I need some hangers," my doughy-eyed eleven year old sighed. "My laundry is sitting on my couch getting all wrinkled." 


My response came out in the form of a chuckle. "But, two days ago the entire contents of your closet was on the floor.  Not only have the clean and the dirty been closely mingling with each other, you've been wearing wrinkly clothes for months, why does it matter now?"


"Because I've changed. Clean feels good." 


It's no secret that I'm an organizer. I like things neatly arranged in their proper place... and if they don't have a "proper place" then I like to create one. Sure, things get out of order from time to time as life gets hectic, but at the core, I like ORDER. Order brings me peace. That's why being a mother is sometimes my biggest challenge.

When my children were little, I remember the anticipation of them getting old enough to take care of their own messes. I remember thinking life would be heaven if I could just make it from one end of the house to the other without tripping on little plastic toys or an assortment of baby doll paraphernalia... Well, that day has come and I'm here to tell you, MY HOUSE IS MORE CHAOTIC THAN EVER!

To an OCD mom, organization is the key to sanity! And yet, the older my children get, the more they seem to mess with my organization. Perhaps they enjoy my depleting sanity. Maybe that's why they mess with me so much. They may not scatter toys anymore, but what they do do is get into my stuff! My tool box is strewn throughout the house and so is all of my sewing stuff. Finding things in the kitchen is a daily scavenger hunt, and their bedrooms often look like a bomb went off.

So, if it bothers me so much, why do I let them get into things? Why do they take their turn emptying the dishwasher? Why do I let them use my sewing stuff? Why do they have access to my tools? And... why don't I clean their rooms?

Simply because my time to teach them is short. If they don't have access to tools, how will they know how to use them? If they aren't expected to help in the kitchen, how will they take care of their own? If they don't learn to sew, how will they know how to mend stuff?
If you don't experience some chaos how can you appreciate the calm?

As much as it kills me to ignore messy rooms, I don't see any value in cleaning them for them. I've tried that method, and believe me, it didn't work. All that was accomplished is a worn out, frustrated mother with ungrateful, expectant children. I think there is a lot more value in giving them ownership and responsibility for their own stuff. If they can't find a pair of pants... not my problem. If their favorite shirt smells like dirty socks because it got chucked on the floor instead of put away... again, not my problem.

It's been a long time coming, but to quote my newly converted eleven year old, "Clean feels good!"


I don't know how long it will last, but the fact that she asked me to help her clean out her room over the weekend is a good start. We are heading in the right direction. I don't doubt that she will turn her room into a war zone again, but I hope that she will remember the peace that came to her when it was clean.

What I didn't do: the story of an imperfect Christmas tree.

Several years ago I made one of the most satisfying investments an OCD mom could make: I purchased my very own "grown up" Christmas tree. The eight-foot beauty, complete with fragile decorations, ornate ribbon, and over a thousand twinkling lights has been my child-free, immaculate addition to the Holidays since my children were little. It sits in my living room, also known as the "piano room" because, let's be honest about formal living rooms, there's almost no amount of living that actually happens in there.

So, back to the tree....

In a typical year, the kids and I decorate the entire house together. We stream the banister up the stairs and into the loft with a lighted pine swag and big red ribbons. We adorn our "tall" tree in the family room with what amounts to almost 200 Hallmark ornaments (not to brag, but its a pretty impressive collection, derived from the ornament giving tradition my grandparents started in 1982). We hang six stockings across the family room mantel, plus a couple more on the basement mantel for good measure. All three levels of the house get cluttered up with holly and snowmen and all measure of cutesy holiday joy!

But the living room... the living room is my room! It hosts what I like to think of as the more sophisticated decorations. I've got my small village, my bisque white nativity, and my tree. In a home that boasts the energy - and mess - of four energetic kids, my OCD necessitates the need for me to have control of at very least, my tree! I like to wait for the kids to return to school after Thanksgiving weekend so that I can take the day to put my tree together the "right" way! Yes, the "right" way, because any way that's not my way is not right! I carefully place lights from top to bottom, intricately woven up each and every branch. The result? An immaculate tree with proportional light balanced uniformly from bottom to tip!

Not this year! I woke up Saturday morning to a giddy eleven year old begging me to come see what she'd done. I slipped on my bathrobe and met her in the living room. She'd set up and lit my tree! From a distance, it looked pretty good. I thanked her with a smile. She was so very proud of herself, and I don't blame her, it was quite a feat. Upon closer review I discovered what could best be described as a "web" of lights. I'm not exactly sure what her installation technique was, but it uniformity apparently wasn't important to her. I took in every inch of the tree - noting its imperfections and analyzing its lighting imbalance (it loses umph as it reaches the top), then I did something that surprised not only me, but the elder of my two children:

I left it alone! 

Of course, there was a part of me that wanted to dismantle it and start over. And, I'm sure every time I walk into the room, I will itch to fix one imperfection or another. But, something bigger is at play here. Something that as an OCD mom I have to be consciously mindful of. My beautiful daughter's heart would be broken if I undermined her hard work. This is about so much more than a silly tree. It's about recognizing her effort and celebrating her "gift" to me!

This year as you look at your tree you might think of it's heavenly symbolism or even about the gifts tucked underneath. However, when I look at my tree, I will be reminded of a cute little girl who went above and beyond for her mother.

A Mother's Ultimate Confession

Today was a good day. The kind of day I long for and often take for granted. For some mothers in my neighborhood, I'm sure it was a sad day, but I can't say that I'm worthy of being ranked with these so-called super moms. After three weeks of boredom, way too much TV, and a messy house, my elementary aged kids are finally back ON TRACK! If you are unfamiliar with the year-round school system, this basically means that after a three week stint of being out of school, my kids are back in for nine-weeks while another "track" of students takes their 3 week sabbatical of sorts. We repeat this pattern several times throughout the year.

I used to listen to other mothers lament their children's return to school and wonder what was wrong with me. But not anymore! I've recently come to the conclusion that to be excited about my kids education isn't a bad thing.... neither is cherishing my routine of productivity while they are away. And, its not that I don't love my kids -because they are absolutely first on my list -  but I've learned to love the self that I've discovered in the few hours that I'm alone each day. 

I am a creature of habit. A lover of routine. A cherisher of order!

And, so it is, that for the next nine weeks I will exercise every morning (okay, maybe "every" is a strong word), I will clean the house and shower and enjoy some quiet,  guilt-free, undisturbed writing time. Maybe I'll read a book or ten. And, if I'm lucky I'll squeeze in a sewing project too.  

And, I won't feel the slightest pang of guilt as I send my babies out the door! I will, instead, count my blessings for teachers that are everything that I am not! 

I'm a BOO-HUMBUG kind of mom

Some might find this strange coming from a creative-type person, but when it come's to Halloween, I'm a Boo-Humbug kind of mom. I just don't get the whole fascination with purchasing candy (that I otherwise wouldn't have wasted my money on) to give to random kids, most of whom I've never seen before and many of whom are old enough to get a job to buy their own stinkin candy. Then the whole costume thing... Because it's taboo to wear the same costume twice, each year we have to get creative on a new costume for each of the kids - which for me includes four children & my sweet husband! We spend hours either sewing or searching for the perfect costume just to wear it for a few hours (usually with a coat on top) then tuck it away in a box... perhaps to never see the light of day again.

And for what?

To get candy that:
       (1) We've garnished from strangers (Isn't this against everything we were taught as kids? "Don't take candy from strangers"... unless you're dressed like a pirate, or a princess, or a pumpkin...??)
       (2) Is usually cheep and gross and ends up in the trash anyway. People simply don't hand out the good stuff on Halloween (ie: See's, Cavanoughs, etc...)
       (3) Will be consumed in one of two fashions: the instant engorging or the drag-it-out-for-a-month method. Honestly, I prefer the engorging - at least that way I'm not breaking up fights over who took who's candy or finding wrappers shoved into the couch cushions for weeks on end. But, this eating a bucket of candy in one night isn't exactly demonstration of self-control, is it?

Perhaps the root of my Halloween-complex is its proximity to my birthday. My whole life I've endured the "birthday-goul" comments with a smile on my face, but really, such things are akin to Decemberites getting birthday gifts wrapped in Christmas paper. A birthday should never be bundled with a holiday! Augustites don't have "back-to-school" themed parties... Februaryites don't have valentine themed birthdays, so why should Octoberites have ghost and gobblin and pumpkin themed parties?

And yet, despite my abhorrence, tonight I will paint my kids faces and send them out the door in the pursuit of candy they don't need. I will answer my door with a smile and hand out little treats to little strangers. I will lock up my dogs to prevent them from losing their minds from the constant ringing of the doorbell. And, tomorrow I will clean up the remains of our jack-o-lanterns that have been spread throughout the yard by deer (and maybe even kids). I will spend the un-frozen weeks of November trying to nurse my trampled plants back to strength. I will squish four costumes into our box only to be shunned to the basement til next year. And, I will find candy wrappers hidden in every corner of my house until spring.

Yeh for Halloween! BOO Humbug!

One foot in the Insanity Pond

I know what you're thinking - or maybe it's just me thinking it - but here we go again.... I know, I know, I've never been much of a blogger. In fact, the blog I started over two years ago has a whopping 4 posts on it. So, what am I doing here now. Frankly, I don't know. But, when you wake up at 3:00 in the morning with a racing mind, you have one of two options: (1) continue to ignore the thought, pushing it to the back of your mind hour after hour as you toss and turn (& probably drive your husband crazy in the process), or (2) do something about it.

So, here we go again... one foot in the insanity pond, the other (hopefully) anchoring my crazy, wonderful life to reality.