My Great Granddad – Thomas Lusitania Smith, 1918-2015
On Friday I received word that my great granddad had passed away. At the age of 97 with his health failing his passing was met more with relief than shock. He will be truly missed in this life, but we are glad to know that he’s no longer suffering the ills of old age and is being reunited with family on the other side of the veil. Sadly, because my great grandparents live in Australia I will be unable to attend any sort of funeral services so I wanted to write a brief tribute here.
As you can imagine, my relationship with my great granddad was limited by the distances between our different continents. However I was able to see him on our family’s three trips to Australia and he also made several trips to the states with my great grandmother and stayed with our family on a number of occasions. It was always amazing to me to see that despite huge distances, you always have a special connection to your family that you can’t have with anyone else. I always knew that my great grandparents loved me and were interested in what was going on with my life even though on a day-to-day basis our lives weren’t very connected.
My parents shared on Facebook some thoughts on my granddad’s passing and talked particularly about something that has always fascinated me about him. In the 1950s Granddad listened to the missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was baptized a member of the church. Because of that decision my grandma was raised in the church, and she in turn raised my mother in the church, and my mother raised me in the church. The greatest blessings in my life have come from the church and in large part stem from a decision that was made about three decades before I was born. I am reminded of the ripple effects of our choices – nothing we do is truly done in a vacuum. Our choices affect not only ourselves, but those around us and generations after us. I will be forever grateful for that one decision that he made all those years ago.
Later my granddad fell away from the church. On one of his trips to the US he was sitting next to my dad during a sacrament meeting. After singing “Hark All Ye Nations” granddad leaned over to my dad and told him, “We use to sing that song all the time back in England in the pubs…but, the words were all different… come to think of it, none of those words would ever be said in a church.” It’s now a family joke whenever we sing that song in church that we’re all singing a drinking song. My granddad left the church for 40 years. That’s amazing to me, 40 years is more than my entire life span so far. What’s amazing about it though, is that after 40 years – he came back. You would think that after all that time his choices and attitudes towards the church must have been totally solidified and there was no way he’d come back. Yet, when he was in his 80s he chose to return to the church and died after almost two decades of faithful membership. One special memory I have is that he and my great grandmother were able to attend Eric’s and my wedding. Traditionally the father of the bride and the father of the groom act as witnesses to the sealing. However, as Eric’s dad is a sealer and was able to seal us we had an extra witness seat. At the last minute my mom thought we should ask if granddad would like to be that witness. I felt bad that we asked Eric’s brother at the last minute to concede that role (sorry!), but it was a really special thing that after all that time of being away from the church, here was my great granddad – all the way from Australia – assisting in one of the most sacred ordinances. It was a very special thing to me that he could come and be such an integral part of that very special day.
As I reflect on this part of my granddad’s life one thing sticks out to me – it is never too late too change. You are never too old. You are never too stuck in your ways. It is never too hard. You may be 2 or 102 but you still have your agency to choose that tomorrow you will be different than you are today. I think this is both thrilling and terrifying. Tomorrow you could choose to eschew poor habits, create a new life, start on a better path. Or tomorrow you could choose to leave behind all that is good and glorious in your life and make choices that will lead to misery. No one is immune. We should never look at someone and think, “oh, they’re too far gone, they’ll never turn their life around.” Nor should we think, “well they’ve clearly got it all figured out and they don’t need any help from me.” We all need each other, every day. Let us choose each day to be a little better than the day before. Let us look at others with more compassion for where they might be. Let us never give up on anybody, ever. You never know who that person might be tomorrow.
Thank you Granddad to the example you were to me, for the love you have showed to my family and for the foundation you gave for my life. I will be eternally grateful for all the good things that you made possible for my family. God be with you until we meet again <3
If you’d seen this trick posted before and wondered if it would work, let me tell you – it does! Yesterday morning I woke up with auras in my vision. At first I thought it was just my contacts readjusting and tried to give it awhile and just get ready. As we were about to head out the door I realized that they’d gotten a LOT worse, and not better like I would have expected. I finally recognized that I had the beginnings of a migraine. I’ve never actually had a migraine before but my mom has had them for years and so I knew the warning signs. I took some headache medicine and hoped I could ward it off as I was supposed to be helping teach Sunday School for my 4 year old’s class in about an hour (not an ideal environment for a headache).
I got to church and the light was hurting my eyes, my head was pounding and my stomach hurt. The auras were worse and I just felt terrible. I ducked into a dark classroom during sacrament meeting hoping the medicine would kick in. I sat there alone in the quiet in the dark as it slowly got worse – I was wearing my sunglasses in a room that was almost completely dark with the exception of a small window in the door, and the glare from my cell phone screen. It was pretty bad. After a half hour I gave up and finally texted my husband to take me home.
I remembered seeing this trick for headaches and looked up the picture to make sure I did it right. The text I’d seen with the picture recommends frozen peas at the base of your skull with your hands sumberged in warm water. I did exactly what it shows in the picture and started to have some relief, but I wasn’t comfortable in that position. Really I wanted to try and sleep but obviously balancing on my bathroom counter wasn’t a great place to fall asleep. I decided since the principle was making your neck cold and feet warm I had Eric heat up our rice bag for my toes. Then I laid on our bed with the peas under my neck and rice bag on my feet. Thanks to our blackout curtains I was able to take a nap in the darkness with my extremities at different temperatures very comfortably. Two hours later I woke up feeling almost completely better. I’m guessing the medicine helped too, but it hadn’t done anything for me until I had the ice pack and rice bag, and there was relief within minutes once I tried it. That simple solution was nothing short of a miracle cure for me.
Anyways, I’ve tried a lot of different things from Pinterest and I’m always skeptical about how well they will work so I wanted to give this one my personal stamp of approval. I highly recommend it for anyone who struggles with headaches. Three cheers for Pinterest!
I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.
-Robert Browning Hamilton
I saw this poem today on my friend’s Facebook wall and felt compelled to share some thoughts I had. Yesterday marks one year since sweet Kayson Shelton left this life. In that time I feel like I have grown and changed so much and I wanted to share some of that experience here.
On June 6, 2014 I was at home with my family and we were getting ready to eat dinner. My sister was over with her son and my brother was over too, we were just about ready to head up to the local swimming pool for a fun evening before a trip to California the next day. Just as we were about to pray over the food Eric pulled me aside. He told me he’d just received a text that the Shelton’s son had just passed away in an accident. My first reaction was just “oh, how sad” without much feeling behind it – like this was something that had happened to someone far away that I didn’t know very well. I gathered the family for a blessing on the food and prepared to go on with our evening. For whatever reason it takes me a little while to fully react to things like this. As I stood there a minute longer while we were praying it really started to hit me what had happened, Kayson – the little boy who I’d seen just a week before, my son’s friend, my friend’s son – was gone. Suddenly I started to cry, hopeless, helpless tears of sorrow. I was imagining what Toni was going through, what she was explaining to her children. I could see myself in her shoes trying to grapple with such a loss. It was so overwhelming.
I went down the street to talk to my visiting teaching companion (Toni was one of the sisters we were assigned to watch over) and met a neighbor at the door. I cried with our neighbor, and then cried some more with my companion. I went home, took Maeli upstairs with me and just cried and cried some more. I walked into my closet and cried, I nursed Maeli and cried. I sent Toni a text feeling so inadequate but needing to do *something*, and I cried some more. I tried to think through what I could do but since the Sheltons were in another state I felt at a total loss. So I put on my swim suit and cried. I called my mom to tell her what had happened, and cried. We drove up to the swimming pool and luckily Maeli had fallen asleep so I just sat with her on my chest, on a beach chair with my sunglasses on and cried. We came back home and I started trying to pack for our own trip to California and cried some more.
A couple hours later, as the news had spread through the neighborhood and we’d gotten our boys to bed, I saw a gathering of neighbors at the Shelton’s house. I didn’t know what they were doing or what I could do, but I had to be with them. So I walked down the street and hugged my friends, and cried. We saw Toni’s facebook post with her last picture of Kayson telling us that his last words in this life were “I love you” and we cried some more. We sprang into action to find things that we could do for the Sheltons, but since it was late at night most of those plans would have to wait until morning. We said goodnight to our friends and walked home. I sat on our couch and put together a memorial website for Kayson and my head was throbbing from crying so much and there were no more tears left in me, but still I cried as I put pictures and memories of him together to share with the world.
The next day we packed to go to California. I hated to be leaving during a time of crisis , but I knew there wasn’t much I could do there. I did what I could to be part of the service projects before we left – I made a freezer meal, helped with care packages, fielded website inquiries, and cried some more – then we packed up the car and left. I cried periodically the whole way to California. Then we got there and I cried some more with my mom. On Sunday I attended church in my parents ward and just sobbed violently for most of the meetings. I received hugs and support from people who had known me since I was a young woman, and the families in my parents ward cried with me.
The next week was filled with media inquiries as the news caught wind of Kayson’s story. I cried as I responded to emails. I had put together an online fundraiser and was touched as I watched donations roll in from all over the world. My phone was beeping incessantly and my mom commented on it. I told her that I received an email every time someone made a donation. I was so grateful for all those beeps and dings. So much of my faith in humanity was built as I watched how people rallied around this family. And I cried some more. We came back for the funeral and cried and cried and cried.
The next several months consisted of frequent periods of crying. I would watch any Mormon Message and cry. I would see my kids playing and think of Toni and cry. I would be doing dishes and start crying. Little kids are not supposed to die, that’s just not the way I felt this world is supposed to work. Obviously I knew that little kids could die, but that happened on the news, to people far away from me. Not to my neighbor. Not to my friend. Suddenly my own children were much more mortal than I could handle. I found myself checking multiple times during the night that they were still breathing and not wanting to go to sleep lest I wake up and find one of them gone. All I wanted to do was to snuggle up close with my family and never ever let them go.
Going through this experience I felt like there was a part of me that was broken that could never be fixed again. It was too much, the pain was too big. However, as the time went by I cried hourly for days, daily for several weeks, several times a week for a few months and then several times a month. Slowly I found myself able to look at my children without a feeling of terror that they would slip away at any moment. I still cry sometimes, but that soul wrenching pain that I felt has passed somewhat. My overwhelming grief was able to be replaced by a tenderness in my soul that won’t go away, but it’s not broken anymore. The tenderness is a good thing, it’s a new part of who I am, I’ve been re-made into a more kinder, more loving, more compassionate person.
I just felt the need to share this experience and reiterate my testimony of the atonement. It is so very very real. It can take the things that you think can never be fixed, never be made clean, never be healed, and somehow – it heals them. Our Father in Heaven loves us, dearly. He is there for us when we have reasons to cry, and he cries with us. He sends others to help us in those times of despair, and we can be made whole again. I truly am grateful for this opportunity that I’ve had to walk a mile with sorrow. I have learned and grown in ways that I couldn’t have any other way. It might not be an experience I would wish for, but it’s certainly one I will cherish. I just want to say thank you to Toni and Scott for letting me be a small part of this experience, it has touched my life and changed me for the better, and I know it’s done the same for many others as well.
Last June my mom shared with me a booklet she was putting together for their stake youth conference. I thought it was awesome and asked if I could share it on my blog. She sent me the files and it has sat in my inbox for nearly a year waiting for me to post it. I decided it was finally time for me to get around to posting it.
The booklet was for the youth to be given to conduct a self-guided tour of the temple grounds. The booklet points out some of the different symbols they would encounter. My mom was asked to be careful not to give specific meanings for the symbols as symbols can have many layers of interpretation. If you give someone a concrete “this is what this symbol means” it takes away their opportunity to discover the meaning for themselves and also might remove some of the incentive to try to work out other possible meanings. So the booklet contains quotes, scriptures and questions which might help people find some interpretations for the symbols. For me it was really helpful just to have some symbols pointed out as symbols. For instance, I’d never thought of the fence as being anything more than a fence to even consider that it might have symbolic significance.
This booklet was made specifically for the Los Angeles Temple, but if you go to any temple you will find many of these symbols in other temples. We tried to go through and make sure there were pictures and information so that if you are unable to go to the Los Angeles temple you can still learn from reading it. I think anyone who is trying to get more out of the symbolism of the temple can gain some insight from reading this.
You are welcome to redistribute this provided you leave the credit on the back cover in tact. I’m providing several different files to make distribution easy. First I have the printable files. The booklet was made to be half pages front and back. We’ve worked out the pages in order so that you can print the file with the front sides and then the file with the back sides and have it be pretty straightforward. I’ve also included a pdf with all of the pages in order so that you can easily read it on your computer (or print it whatever other fancy way you’d like).
We would love any feedback on the booklet. Let us know what symbols you’d missed before or any insights that you’ve gained. We hope this helps you draw closer to the Savior in your temple worship.
My neighbor brought me an Amish Friendship Bread start and I was able to make some for the first time! I remember my mom making it once when I was little and I was excited to get to do it myself. It was a fun thing to do, but when I went to deliver my starts to my friends I realized that my copy of the recipe was all dirty. I didn’t want to photocopy it in that state, so I did the only logical thing and redesigned it to be cute and prepared it to post on my website 🙂 Hopefully this will save the next people from having to decide between photocopying a dirty recipe and having to recreate the document themselves. You can get the printable copy here – Amish Friendship Bread Printable.
Also, if you’re like me and got to the last day and discovered that your instant pudding boxes are 3.9oz instead of the 5.1oz called for, I’ve done the math for you so that you can use the right proportion of the 3.9oz boxes. Just combine 2 3.9oz boxes of pudding and remove a generous 1/3 cup of pudding mix and set aside. The remainder is what will go with your bread. If you would like to make pudding from that 1/3 cup of mix (because, pudding is delicious), just mix you 1/3 cup of pudding with 2/3 cup of milk and whisk for 2 minutes.
By the way, if you’re going to make this I HIGHLY recommend using Baking Pam. I don’t usually splurge on ingredients, but my husband brought this home once after being sent to do the grocery shopping and I gave it a try. It really is like magic for baking. Everything I make with the Baking Pam just slides right out of the pan with no fuss whatsoever. It is one splurge that I feel like is very worthwhile 🙂
Here’s a text copy of the recipe as well if you just want to see what this is all about. Don’t be scared by the 240 hour prep time… the vast majority of that time is spent with a ziploc bag sitting on your counter! If you want to print it though, use this version, it’s much prettier!
Amish Friendship Bread
Prep time:
Cook time:
Total time:
Serves: 2 loaves
Ingredients
1 cup oil
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
5.1oz box instant vanilla pudding, other flavors can be used but not sugar free
2 cups flour
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
Optional: add nuts, raisins, chocolate chips etc.
Instructions
Day 1: Receive the bread start. Do nothing.
Day 2: Knead the bag
Day 3: Knead the bag
Day 4: Knead the bag
Day 5: Knead the bag
Day 6: Mix 1 cup flour, 1 cup milk, & 1 cup sugar in a bowl. Add to bag. Knead to combine.
Day 7: Knead the bag
Day 8: Knead the bag
Day 9: Knead the bag
Day 10:Combine in a large bowl—batter from the bag, 1 cup milk, 1 cup flour & 1 cup sugar. Combine well and put 1 cup of starter in 4 gallon sized bags. Keep one for yourself. Give this recipe and 1 starter bag to 3 friends
To Make the Bread: Mix 1 tsp cinnamon and 1/2 cup sugar together, set aside.
Spray 2 smaller bread pans with cooking spray.
Sprinkle the pans with cinnamon and sugar mixture.
Pour batter into pans.
Bake at 325°F for 45-60 minutes.
Let stand for 10 minutes before removing from pans.
Today, as we celebrate Mother’s Day, I feel keenly aware of the women within my circle of friends for whom this day is a reminder of the imperfect situations they might find themselves in. Whether they are unmarried, struggling with infertility, single parents, feeling overwhelmed with many children, have wayward children, children they gave up for adoption, children who have passed on before them, have lost their own mothers, or don’t have the relationship with their mother that they desire. Mother’s Day can be a difficult day for many people.
,About a year ago one of my friends who had struggled with infertility for a long time, posted that she would go to Relief Society on Mother’s Day and go home with the Mother’s Day treat and cry. She felt like she’d been given something that she didn’t deserve. Rather than feeling included (which I’m sure was the intention), the gesture exacerbated her feelings of inadequacy. This broke my heart to read how a wonderful day for so many is a bitter reminder for others of a blessing which they have been denied.
Particularly for those who are struggling with not having yearned for children I wanted to share this thought from my favorite blog, Women in the Scriptures. One of the first posts of hers that I read was this one about infertility. I want to share one particular quote used in that post from Sheri Dew –
” …While we tend to equate motherhood solely with maternity, in the Lord’s language, the word mother has layers of meaning. Of all the words they could have chosen to define her role and her essence, both God the Father and Adam called Eve “the mother of all living”—and they did so before she ever bore a child. Like Eve, our motherhood began before we were born. Just as worthy men were foreordained to hold the priesthood in mortality, righteous women were endowed premortally with the privilege of motherhood. Motherhood is more than bearing children, though it is certainly that. It is the essence of who we are as women. It defines our very identity, our divine stature and nature, and the unique traits our Father gave us…
…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 keep their second estate. As President J. Reuben Clark Jr. declared, motherhood is “as divinely called, as eternally important in its place as the Priesthood itself.” (Are We Not All Mothers, Ensign. Nov. 2001)
I loved this definition of motherhood. While I’ve never struggled with infertility I did have my own experience with not feeling like I fit the definition of “mother”. When Eric and I were first married we lived in married student housing at BYU. It seemed like a majority of the women in our ward were mothers. Our plan at the time was to wait to have children until Eric was done with school and I was working full time to support us while we got to that goal. I felt excluded from the mom club – the circle of women who passed their days in the middle of the quad at the playground chatting.
I remember the first time my visiting teachers in that ward came to visit me with their toddlers. In the process of getting to know one another I told them that I was working full time. While they didn’t say anything disparaging, I felt judged, as if they were high society women who saw me merely as ‘one of those working girls’. Whether that sentiment was real or imagined (and let’s be honest, it was probably more imagined), it was a difficult moment for me.
At the time I felt like I had a hard time defining myself. I’m the oldest of 5 children and my mom has called me the second mother in our home. I grew up carrying around babies, playing with kids, babysitting, and loving being around children. However in that season of my life I was without children – far away from my siblings and not yet having children of my own. At the same time, I still felt the inherent mother-ness in me.
I had a hard time figuring out how to refer to myself as a married woman without children. I would often try to call myself a single mother – which was ironic since I was completely the opposite . I think I felt similarly displaced to those mothers who find themselves without a father to aid them, which is likely why I would gravitate to that title. The other title I would come up with was “childless mother” which also felt odd since it seems weird to call someone a mother who doesn’t have her own children.
In retrospect I think the title of “childless mother” was actually the right term. Despite not having children, I was a mother. I liked what Sister Dew stated about our motherhood as women beginning before we were born. Motherhood is not dependent on 9 months of pregnancy, it is inherent in our calling as women. Motherhood is the qualities of women that dispose us to teaching, building, and growing not only children but the world around us. You can fulfill that calling as a sister, daughter, aunt, friend, teacher, office worker, CEO, Relief Society president, yoga instructor or whatever role you find yourself in.
Just as a man is no less a priesthood holder for not being a bishop, women are no less mothers for not having children. Motherhood is part of who you are. I know that might not be much consolation to those who would like to discharge that calling in the conventional way, especially when proffered by one who has been given that more conventional mother role. However, I hope you know that whatever your contribution to motherhood is I honor you for what you are building and the love you show for those around you.
So take that cookie offered to you with pride, you are a mother. Happy Mother’s Day to all women, whatever circumstance you find yourself in. You are a daughter of our Heavenly Mother, and I want to celebrate that divinity within you ❤️
For those of you who know me personally this will not come as much of a shock, but here’s my confession for today – I am a terrible housekeeper. I really do try to keep up with the house but it just doesn’t happen. I am not someone who enjoys cleaning and trying to keep a house clean that still has three young children in it seems like a near impossible task. However, I am trying.
My biggest pet peeve is keeping my kitchen clean. It seems like the most critical room in the house to keep clean but three times a day everything’s being pulled out and despite my best efforts I am rarely on top of it. The dishes are my greatest nemesis and it’s hard to keep everyone in the kitchen and helping me until the work is done. So I’ve finally come up with a solution – meet the dinner time chore chart!
It’s really pretty basic, I’ve come up with 5 chores and each person in our family will be assigned one chore for the week which we will change on Monday nights as part of our Family Home Evening and night time privileges will not be granted until that chore is done. Anyways, I spent some time creating a cute chart and I wanted to share it with anyone who would like to use it.
Ok, so I have two different files that I’m providing here and you’ll have to decide which one you want. The simple one is just a PDF which you can print out and write your family member names on the tags and be done. However, I hate my handwriting, so I’m also providing the original Publisher files so you can customize the tags if you’d like. To customize the tags you’ll just need to go to the tags pages and change the names to the names of your family members. For mine I wanted pictures of the family members (since some of my kids are still pre-reading) so there are tags that have blank pictures on them but are formatted nicely. To swap those out for pictures of your own family members all you have to do is right click on the picture, then find the picture you want to use from your computer. The new picture will be dropped in to the same formatted space. To re-center the picture I’ve found that I need to de-select the picture and then re-select it (I don’t know why, I just know that’s what happens) then under the Picture Tools->Format tab select Crop and you can now re-size and move the picture around within the frame. But don’t worry, there are also simple picture-less tags that I’ve included so you can just fill them in. You will need to make sure that you have the two fonts that I specified above installed on your computer to have the same result on your computer. If anyone really really wants I could fill in the tags for you and send you a pdf of just the chart you want and your family’s names and pictures if you want to email me the names and pictures that you want. You can email me through my contact page and I could provide that for a small fee – but I’d encourage you to be brave! It’s not too hard! You can do it! (Assuming of course that you have a computer that can run Microsoft Publisher, and has it installed)
To create my final chore chart I printed the pages out on regular printer paper and then laminated it. If you don’t own a laminator I’ve really liked the Purple Cows Hot & Cold Laminator that I have. I got mine for pretty inexpensive from Costco and I think they have them there pretty regularly, but I’ve found that I can get the laminating pouches for a good deal from Amazon. One trick I learned early on is that you have to be sure to cut out the little pieces you want to laminate (in this case the name tags) before laminating and then laminate them with enough space around the edges to not break the seal of the lamination. I then used a bunch of these little sticky magnets on the back of the chore chart and on the back of each name tag. The magnets aren’t super strong so I put two on each of the name tags and six on the back of the chore chart itself. For now it’s hanging on my refrigerator but I’m planning on getting one of these magnetic boards from Ikea and hang it on my wall… as soon as I can get the kids in order to go (hahahahahah, yeah right).
Anyways, here are the two files. Let me know if you like them and get any use out of them in your home! It always makes me happy when someone finds the resources I post useful 🙂 And of course, don’t steal them and sell them or pass them off as your own. That’s just not cool guys. I hope this helps you get your kitchen routine more in order too!
The quote at the beginning of this post is something that’s been on my mind frequently over the past year – “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle”. I’ve seen this quote in the past and thought, “sure, some people are fighting really hard battles, but there are people who really just have it easy. Maybe more people than I think are facing something hard, but not literally everyone.” However, over the past year I feel like I have gotten to know more of people’s challenges. Just out of the people I know here are some of the struggles I’ve been privvy to in the last several months – cancer, death of a loved one, infertility, feelings of inadequacy, divorce, depression, loss of faith, separation from children, illness, difficult pregnancies, rebellious children, anxiety, job loss, money problems, unfulfilled dreams, loneliness, moving from home, fear, sleep deprivation, debt, and abuse. That’s a weighty list, and for most of those trials I can name more than one person who has recently faced it. Moreover, if I think carefully through people I know well I can come up with something each one of them is facing that is difficult, and I’m sure there are many more inner struggles that I am completely unaware of.
As I’ve contemplated this the reality of the quote finally registered and I have come to realize how true it is. E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E. you meet is fighting a hard battle. Yes, that person who cut you off in traffic. Yes, your neighbor who seems to have it all together. Yes, the friend who always has a smile on their face. I don’t care how well you think you know the person or how easy you might think they have it, each person is fighting a hard battle in some aspect of their life, whether you know about it or not. This realization has reminded me of a quote from a recent talk by Dieter F. Uchtdorf –
I want to tell you something that I hope you will take in the right way: God is fully aware that you and I are not perfect.
Let me add: God is also fully aware that the people you think are perfect are not. (emphasis added)
I know there are people that seem to have things so easy, but as you get closer to them you will find there is something they are actively struggling with. Trials are an integral part of our life here on earth. They are the experiences that help us grow, and everyone is growing in one way or another. I wanted to share one of my own experiences that I think illustrates this.
Those of you who follow my husband’s blog may know that he mentioned a bout he had with depression. If you know Eric that revelation was probably something that surprised you. Eric is positive, driven and bright – not exactly a poster child for depression, and before he posted about it almost no one knew what he’d been going through. However, he was feeling undervalued in his position at work. It was demoralizing for him to have to prove and reprove his worth and to fight tooth and nail to keep his projects going every single day. Understandably it got to him, and he started to escape his frustrations by spending a lot of his time playing computer games. Just to have an arena where he could feel more successful. Gradually, he sunk further and further into depression and even when he was home I saw less and less of him. Despite my best attempts to try and help him, he withdrew into himself and I was at a loss for how I could help.
Meanwhile, even I misunderstood what he was dealing with. I underestimated his struggles at work knowing that he loved what he’d been hired to do, and thinking that balanced out his frustrations. However I was keenly aware of the changes in his behavior, though I tried to keep them between us. Not understanding the real cause I attributed his depression to the wrong things. Since what I observed was mostly him withdrawing from me I assumed I must have been the problem – that his life with me wasn’t what he’d hoped it would be and he preferred his computer as an escape from the poor choice he’d made to marry me. I felt hurt, alone, and like I had no control to make things better. I began to sink into a bit of a depression of my own. Just like I misunderstood Eric’s struggles he misunderstood mine and we were both unable to help one another.
Eventually we were both able to work through these challenges and we’re stronger now for having gone through them. But the point of that story is that here we were living in the same house, truly loving one another, and each suffering inwardly. Somehow even with the love we had for one another, we missed what the other person was going through. It amazes me that – even with the time we would spend together, as much as we would talk to one another and as much as we loved each other – we still missed the battles playing out right in front of our eyes. After that experience I’ve come to realize just how easily other people’s challenges can be hidden from view while things seem fine on the surface. Or how easily we can attribute someone’s actions to the wrong things. I’ve learned to not assume I know what another person is experiencing and try to show compassion unconditionally.
Another thing I’ve come to realize is the need for compassion for people who struggle with something that might not seem major to me. I’ve read a lot of blog posts about the things you shouldn’t complain about. You shouldn’t complain about how hard your pregnancy is because there are people struggling with infertility. You shouldn’t complain about infertility because there are people who long for marriage. You shouldn’t complain about not being married because there are people stuck in an abusive relationships. The examples I’ve seen go on and on. To this kind of thinking I want to again quote President Dieter F. Uctdorf –
When it comes to [judging others], please apply the following:
Stop it!
It’s that simple. We simply have to stop judging others and replace judgmental thoughts and feelings with a heart full of love for God and His children. God is our Father. We are His children. We are all brothers and sisters. I don’t know exactly how to articulate this point of not judging others with sufficient eloquence, passion, and persuasion to make it stick. I can quote scripture, I can try to expound doctrine, and I will even quote a bumper sticker I recently saw. It was attached to the back of a car whose driver appeared to be a little rough around the edges, but the words on the sticker taught an insightful lesson. It read, “Don’t judge me because I sin [or experience trials] differently than you.”
It’s easy to look at someone else’s trials and think how much more difficult our own challenges seem to us. Of course, it could almost always be worse and we should always try to be grateful in our circumstances. But putting someone else’s difficulties down because it doesn’t seem as hard as what you’re facing is ridiculous and helps no one. I struggle with children who are not fantastic sleepers – not the biggest problem that anyone’s ever faced, but it’s one of mine. I have heard people say things like, “you should just be grateful that you have children.” They’re not wrong, and the truth is, I am grateful for my children and I don’t begrudge them the many sleepless nights. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I am tired and sometimes I need someone to just give me a hug and tell me that I’m going to make it to bedtime. Belittling my exhaustion because it could be something worse isn’t helpful.
Construing any person’s suffering as illegitimate doesn’t help people with seemingly worse trials, and it certainly doesn’t help the person in front of you. We all need to be careful not to fall into the kind of thinking that says people only deserve our sympathy if their struggles weigh in greater than our own on some cosmic scale. This is nonsense! Do you think our Savior looks down on us and says, “Well, you’re only dealing with the trials of one single person. I took on ALL the suffering of every person who has ever lived, you big baby. Go whine to someone else.”? NO! Christ took upon him all these things so that he could help us even in small things. If He doesn’t put us down for struggling with small things then we certainly have no room to put down one another. One of my favorite quotes comes from a talk given by Marvin J. Ashton back in 1992, he said,
Perhaps the greatest charity comes when we are kind to each other, when we don’t judge or categorize someone else, when we simply give each other the benefit of the doubt or remain quiet. Charity is accepting someone’s differences, weaknesses, and shortcomings; having patience with someone who has let us down; or resisting the impulse to become offended when someone doesn’t handle something the way we might have hoped. Charity is refusing to take advantage of another’s weakness and being willing to forgive someone who has hurt us. Charity is expecting the best of each other.
If we want to become like the Savior then we need to stop trying to judge other people’s actions based on what we think we know of them. We need to give each other the benefit of the doubt that their struggles are real, whether they makes sense to us or not. We need to let them manage their trials as best as they can and be there to support them in any way possible. No matter how trivial their trials might seem to us. Our judgement of their trials doesn’t matter, what matters is how we respond to them in their need.
I recently watched a beautiful example of someone who already does this. As my readers know, my dear friend Toni lost her sweet son Kayson in the middle of last year. Recently, I was sitting with her and another friend as our friend was expressing her frustration with parenting a difficult son. Toni could have snapped back, “You should just be grateful that you still have him here, don’t you know what I would give to be going through those difficulties right now instead of the one I have?” Instead I watched as she sat there and lovingly commiserated about the difficulties of parenting, offering advice and support. Our friend said something about how trivial her trial was and Toni graciously responded that it didn’t matter how big the trial was, it was what she was struggling with and that made it legitimate. Helping a friend didn’t increase her grief or do anything to belittle what she was going through. It merely gave her an opportunity to show love for a friend, and you can’t show love for someone without feeling its glow yourself. When we help lift other people’s burdens our own become lightened, not heavier.
Can we all commit to trying a little harder, to being a little kinder? Recognize that we don’t know – and can’t know – all the things that another person is dealing with. Let us find ways to lift each other up in our trials. Let us stop comparing and trying to “one up” other’s troubles. Let us be kind.
A couple years back a friend of mine posted a link to a blog post about modesty, particularly the author’s experience in the Middle East and wearing a hijab. I was so impressed with the author’s perspective that I decided to poke around the blog a little more. I read another post on spiritual promises and infertility which I immediately had to share with a friend struggling with that particular trial. I read this post about the significance of wearing veils which blew my mind and gave me a lot to think about over my following trips to the temple. I quickly became hooked and Eric got used to coming home to me being totally excited about some new insight that I’d gleaned from her blog.
So, what is this blog? It’s called Women in the Scriptures and the premise is this – how many women would you guess are mentioned in scriptures? Go ahead and take your guess, I’ll wait. My original guess had been maybe as many as 50, if you looked really hard. I’ve long been of the camp that women are not mentioned frequently enough in the scriptures, was that what you’d thought too? Turns out, we were wrong. Heather (the author of Women in the Scriptures) went through her scriptures and marked every time that a woman was mentioned in the scriptures. The real answer? 556. I was amazed when I read that, how did I not know that there were that many women in the scriptures?? I’ve been reading the scriptures my whole life and I’d never noticed many, could there be that many?
It opened my eyes to a whole new perspective on the scriptures. Instead of reading the scriptures with a chip on my shoulder that there weren’t any women in them, I started looking for the women. Suddenly the women were popping out of everywhere. None of the scriptures were written by women, but they factor into the stories more often than you might realize. All at once I saw mothers, sisters, aunts, maids, queens, prophetesses – how had I not seen them before?
A couple weeks ago Heather released a new book called – Walking With the Women in the New Testament, a book which focuses in depth on the stories of each of the women who are mentioned in the New Testament. When she sent out a request for people to participate in a blog tour I jumped at the chance! I knew this would be a book that I would need to share with all of you.
I was so excited when I received my copy in the mail. After reading all the great insights in her blog I knew it was going to be great. But something about the book surprised me. I brought the book with me one Friday afternoon to the church while I waited for Sam to go through his primary program practice. I figured it would be a good time to sit and read through some of the book. As I sat in the foyer with my book, my three-year old son came over and asked me to read it to him. At first I sort of put him off, this wasn’t really a “kids” book, but he insisted. So he plopped down on my lap and I let him point to a name in the table of contents. I figured he would sit with me for a few sentences and then run off to go play in the nursery.
He chose “The Widow Who Gave Two Mites”. We turned to that story and I gave him a simplified version of the story first and then started reading to him what was in the book. I hadn’t wanted the book for the pictures (as you may have gathered from the wordiness of most of my posts – I’m a words person more than a pictures person) but the beautiful artwork convinced Danny that this book was for him too. Instead of a “kids” book that might have given him a very superficial understanding of this story, he sat and listened to some pretty meaty insights about how Jesus brought his message to both men and women, and how we should give up all to serve Him, and that He sees and knows our needs even when we feel insignificant. Wow. I’ve read this story many times before and I’d always thought it was meaningful, but I had never gotten all of that out of it! I sat in the foyer with tears in my eyes from just the experience of that one story. But more importantly, Danny sat there and listened to it, and was eating it all up. I expected that this book would give me some good insights but I hadn’t imagined that at such a young age it would be influencing my young son. This truly isn’t a book about women just for women, it is a message about some of the sometimes overlooked players within the scriptures with a message for everyone.
I haven’t yet read all of the stories, but I have been thoroughly enjoying reading them one at a time and really savoring the deeper messages of stories that I’d never thought much of, or hadn’t even noticed. I used to think that there should be more women in the scriptures so that I could learn from their stories as they would be more relatable to myself as a woman. Now I’m thinking maybe there aren’t more because I haven’t learned what those that are there have to teach me!
So, if you’re getting ready for your Christmas shopping and not sure what to get for your mom, sister, daughter, grandma, aunt, wife, girlfriend… or your dad, brother, son, grandpa, uncle, husband or boyfriend, this would be a great gift for anyone. What better gift at Christmas than the opportunity to delve deeper into the scriptures and learn lessons that will draw you closer to the Savior?
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book in exchange for reviewing it, but all opinions are my own.
When I was a little girl I remember every year being excited to sit on Santa’s lap, tell him what a good girl I’d been and ask for something special for Christmas. I loved watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. My parents didn’t make a huge deal of Santa but he was still an integral part of our Christmas celebrations. When I was in fourth grade my friends started to tell me that Santa Claus wasn’t real, that it was just my parents who bought the gifts. In all honesty, I think I knew logically by then that was true, but it didn’t bother me too much. I still loved the idea of Santa Claus and chose to keep believing anyways because he was part of the magic of my Christmases and I didn’t want to give it up.
Now, a full two decades later I find myself on the other side of the Santa Claus celebration. Instead of believing in Santa Claus – I am Santa Claus for my three sweet children. I love that part of Christmas where I now have the chance to prepare surprises for Christmas morning for which I will not take credit. I love trying to find something that will make my kids eyes light up on Christmas morning and bring joy into their hearts. Even though I want their Christmas to be Christ-centered, I feel like the tradition of Santa Claus can turn their minds, and mine to the Savior.
However, I have been troubled by the first question that my kids are asked this season by almost every adult they see at this time of the year, “What’s Santa bringing you for Christmas?” Since I’ve already claimed that I really do love the tradition of Santa Claus so much, how can this bother me? It’s an innocent question and it is fun to see the things that kids are excited about for Christmas morning. But I feel like it places too much emphasis on the wrong part of Christmas for young minds.
Earlier this week a friend posted this article by Jen Hatmaker called The Christmas Conundrum. In it she describes her experience as a pre-teenager being totally disillusioned by finding out that the presents she received on Christmas morning weren’t what she expected, and how it ruined her whole Christmas. She goes on to say how sad it is that her Christmas was completely defined by material things with no actual thought of the real meaning of the season – the birth of Christ.
I don’t think we’ll be going to her extreme of cutting out Santa from Christmas entirely, but I do want to help my kids from a young age be more aware of the real meaning of Christmas, rather than the consumerism aspects. While I like knowing what my kids want for Christmas I’ve never had them sit down and make Christmas lists, or badgered them for what they want most. We’ve gone to visit Santa Claus (although with very little success getting our boys to sit on his lap so far) and we’ll talk a little about things they might like, but I really try to focus on other parts of Christmas. I try to find ways to read Christmas stories with them, or sing songs, or serve others, rather than expending too much of their energy on what they want to get from Christmas. In addition to taking the focus away from Christ, I think focusing on what you’re hoping to get sets kids up for disappointment. If you have high hopes of getting the 5 things on your Christmas list and you only get 4 of them then you’ll be sad. But if your focus is on other things than yourself then anything you get is just a sweet surprise. I would like to suggest some alternate questions that we could pose to young children that would help bring the focus back to our Savior and less on Santa Claus.
What are you going to give this year for Christmas? I will never forget listening to this inspired talk by President Monson back in 1995 called Christmas Gifts, Christmas Blessings which he gave at the Christmas Devotional that year. He suggested rather than asking what someone got for Christmas we should ask what they gave for Christmas. Quite often we put a lot of thought into what we’re giving different people for Christmas and it’s much more exciting to focus on how we’re hoping to make someone else’s life brighter. I think if we try to ask this question to kids it will help them to want to do things for other people and be a little more selfless rather than selfish.
Do you love the Christmas music at this time of year? What song is your favorite? Yes, you might still get answers that are more about presents and snow and jingle bells, but the music at Christmas time is inspiring to the soul. There is a joy in that music that helps bring in the spirit of the season better than almost anything else. You can even take that chance as an opportunity to share your favorite Christmas song too, maybe one that bears a small testimony of the Savior.
Who are you spending Christmas with? I’ve heard people say before that the meaning of Christmas isn’t to be with family, but I think that’s baloney. Our Savior died so that we can be with our families forever, so what more fitting way to celebrate His birth than by spending time strengthening those family relationships? Children will get excited at the thought of grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, or even just having a day or two extra at home with their mom or dad off work.
What is your favorite part of Christmas? I’m sure many children will respond with an answer of Santa Claus or presents, but it opens the door for you to include your favorite part of Christmas too. Whether that’s serving others, or the love people show at this time of year, or Christmas music. Even if their initial answer isn’t part of the real meaning of Christmas I think it’s a good way to at least suggest to their minds that there’s more to this season than just presents under a tree or in a stocking.
Does your family have any Christmas traditions that you love? When I was growing up my family had the tradition that on Christmas Eve we would all get a new pair of Christmas pajamas that we would wear to bed that night and then we’d stay in them all day on Christmas. For whatever reason that always seemed like such a treat to me when I was younger, and that day spent at home, with my family, in our PJs is still one of my favorite memories of Christmas time.
It takes a little creativity, but I think we can find ways to help our kids turn their focus from Santa to Christ. I’ll try to post some more traditions and suggestions to help your family’s Christmas be more Christ-centered this year. But for now I’ll leave you with this one challenge – as you try to engage the kids you see in talks about Christmas, will you try to find ways to bring their focus away from Santa and towards our Savior?
What other questions could we be asking our kids instead of Santa questions? I’d love to hear your suggestions! Leave them in the comments below 🙂
Most of you will remember a little over 4 months ago when I posted about the death of our neighbor’s little boy Kayson. Tomorrow (Tuesday, October 14, 2014) would have been his 3rd birthday. In commemoration of his birthday his family is asking that anyone who can do some act of service for someone else. It doesn’t have to be anything big – make a freezer meal for someone, help someone asking for money, go pick up some trash at a park – just something to make the world a brighter place in memory of a child who was full of light.
If you do something I’d love for you to post it on your social media or in the comments below. Post it with the hashtag #HappyBirthdayKayson. At the end of the week I will try to gather all the comments, tweets, Instagrams, and Facebook posts that I can get at and compile them for the Sheltons. Even if you don’t want to post what you did, you could just post “Served for Kayson #HappyBirthdayKayson” If you don’t feel comfortable even doing that, you can also email me and I’d be happy to include what you did anonymously.
Happy Birthday Kayson! Thank you for the two and a half years that you shared with us on this earth. We love and miss you, but you are not forgotten <3
My husband caught this picture of me one afternoon when I’d fallen asleep sitting up, nursing our baby
Those of you who follow me on Facebook have probably noticed a theme of me being a little overwhelmed lately. Today I thought I should stop for a moment and properly document the adventures going on in our household recently, and some thoughts on motherhood. If you want to skip over my tales of craziness to the moral of the story you can click here and jump to the end. Strangely enough this post is long. Not sure why, none of my other posts are ever long 😉
My Commitments and Projects
I posted this to Facebook the other day – “I’m pretty sure I’d be doing a whole lot less work if I were homeschooling Sam than I am by helping out with his class in the public school – this is getting a little ridiculous!” I have gone back and forth for a while as to whether I should homeschool Sam or not (that’s a whole other post for another day), but I signed Sam up for kindergarten at our public school this year. He’s SO far ahead of their curriculum it’s silly, but we try to find things to keep him engaged at home. When I went in for his kindergarten assessment I noticed that no one had signed up to be the room mom so I decided to take the plunge and sign myself up. That commitment on its own really isn’t too bad, I’m mostly managing volunteers for all the class activities, which I can do via email from home – right up my alley 🙂 I’m helping with stations every other week on Tuesdays. I’ve been surprised at just how much parental involvement is required to run our kindergarten class – I’m glad for the parents that have been so willing to do it, and that the kids are getting such a great experience – just overwhelmed with how much it requires from each parent. In addition I’m our ward’s cub scout committee chair, Danny’s soccer coach, a freelance web developer, a local political activist, a visiting teacher… oh yeah, and a wife and a mother to three young kids. It’s been a little busy around here
U04 Soccer
As I mentioned above, I decided to coach soccer this year. The last time I played any sort of organized soccer was when I was in 3rd grade so I’m not the most qualified, but I figured that for U04 soccer (a league comprised of 3 and 4 year olds) my experience was sufficient. I figured my whole goal was to let the kids play and not cry too much – if we were generally kicking the ball and playing something that resembled soccer that was enough for me. I figured the other parents can’t get too upset since I wasn’t getting paid, and if they thought they could do better, I would gladly let them (our league had to refund a lot of players’ money this season because not enough parents volunteered to coach). It’s been more difficult than I thought. We have a team of 7 players, but of those 7, two have refused to play at all, two have been willing to play occasionally (but sometimes “play” means sit on the field – Danny would be one of these two), one who is a really decent player – but gets really upset if the other team scores or if someone takes the ball from him, and two little girls who have been stuck playing every minute of every game we’ve had so far. This last Saturday when the game started we had 2 players who showed up.. the other team had 9. Oh, and one of my two was Danny who was upset about everything and didn’t want to play (his shorts wouldn’t stay up, his shin guards were wrong, his socks were wrong, his cleats were wrong… he’d gotten up too early, everything was wrong). The other coach was understanding and subbed some of his players in and out of our team and we played with whoever would come out on the field at any given time. I can’t even tell you how grateful I am for that very flexible and understanding coach for totally rolling with our ragtag team and just letting the kids have a fun time with whatever sort of team we had. Also, a HUGE amount of thanks to my wonderful in-laws who have been coming to all of my boys’ games. Eric had commitments as the Young Men’ president on Saturday and wasn’t able to be there, so his parents’ help of sitting with Maeli and helping negotiate with Danny was helpful beyond compare.
Danny’s Head
Two Saturdays ago while Eric was at some stake leadership training Danny comes into the house with blood running down his face. I of course bring him in and get him cleaned up as best as I can while asking what happened. He tells me that one of the boys in our neighborhood hit him in the head with a bat. Outraged I go outside and confront the boy about this and he claims it was an accident. I’m somewhat dubious, but I also don’t want to be accusing him of things that truly were accidental – plus Danny is still bleeding so I say something about not playing with bats and go back to caring for Danny. As I get him cleaned up the cut doesn’t look too bad, it’s not very long but it’s opened up pretty wide from the swelling. I’m pretty sure I’m overreacting but I text Eric to say that I’d like him to come home and look at it once he finishes his meeting, rather than going and getting a haircut as he had planned. Eric arrives home within minutes and looks at the cut. He concurs that it’s opened pretty wide and we should probably get it looked at. While he carries Danny around he gets the rest of the story. Apparently the boy who hit him had hit Danny on accident – but he’d been using the bat to try to hit another little girl and had just missed. Awesome. By the time I find this out I feel like it’s too late to bring it up with the mom or the little boy again so I decide to let it go and just be grateful that Danny wasn’t injured worse. We’re fortunate to have a friend who is a doctor and lives a few doors down. He takes a look at Danny’s head and is of the opinion that a butterfly bandage will be sufficient to let the wound heal properly. Poor Danny complains sporadically over the next few days that his head hurts and gets a black eye. When the bandaid falls off everything looks fine, but then he can’t leave it alone and picks the scab off and makes it bleed again. Danny’s still wearing a bandaid today, a week and a half later because he’s too traumatized that it will start bleeding again 🙁
New Neighbors
Last week we were ready to to the bus stop and Sam was outside reading. I called him in to get his backpack. When he got to the garage he said, “But Mom, there’s a master spider in here!” Sam can get worked up over things that aren’t that big of a deal so I was certain it was just a box elder bug. I told him, “don’t worry about it and come in” As I looked around the car I found that it wasn’t a box elder bug – IT WAS A TARANTULA! Ok, so it turns out it wasn’t actually a tarantula… it was a wolf spider that was the size of a tarantula. I am a bit arachnaphobic, I hate, hate HATE spiders. So to have a giant spider in my garage?!? AHHHHHHHHHH! I was not a fan.
For some reason these spiders seem to be taking over our neighborhood. That picture above is some of the pictures that have been posted to facebook of these spiders. I’m not sure why I decided to make a collage… just looking at those pictures is enough to give me the creeps. Oh, and black widows have been taking over our neighborhood too. Greeeeaaaat. I might not be outside much between now and when our neighborhood freezes over.
Adventure to the Doctor’s Office
So yesterday was an exciting afternoon. We had scheduled an appointment for Sam to finally go in and get his last immunization for kindergarten. Since I am pretty severely trypanophobic we had scheduled this specifically for a time when Eric could take him. About 15 minutes before it was time to leave Eric was requested to join an emergency call for one of his clients. So instead of just Eric and Sam going, I got to take all three kids to the doctor’s office. I thought we’d be in and out super quick since we were just there for a shot, but we ended up waiting room for 1 hour! During the wait of course Maeli started to get super tired. When we were finally called back Sam was trying to bargain, he said he wanted a full check up before he’d let them give him a shot. Luckily their protocol had them weigh and measure him, check his pulse and temperature, ask about the things that he’s been eating and did a pretty decent mini check up. His one specific request was that they look in his ear with an otoscope and the nurse even played along and looked inside his ear. When she left the room Sam started getting nervous. So I let him decide whether he wanted the shot in his arm or his leg so he could feel a little bit like he was in control of the situation. He decided on his leg so I helped him take his pants off and sat him on the table. Then I gave him my phone and let him play some games with the deal that if he’d be good for the nurse he could keep playing. That was great… in theory. When the nurse came in, Sam was upset but I was able to distract him with the game a few times, but I was trying to help Maeli who was now rather over tired. When the nurse finally was ready to do the actual shot Sam freaked out completely and tried to climb the wall. So she went out to bring in another nurse to hold him down. Even with both of them they had a hard time holding him still. So the second nurse called over, “Mom, some help?” (she obviously hadn’t gotten the memo that needles tend to make me pass out). So I buckled Maeli back into the stroller and tried to come over and hold Sam’s hand, but Sam was flailing and I couldn’t look at the needle without wanting to react the same way Sam was… I wasn’t much help. They finally got the shot in Sam but he was still flailing and freaking out, so his heart rate was up… meaning he bled… a lot. There was blood everywhere. All over his leg, all over his arm and all over his shirt (naturally, since he was wearing a brand new shirt yesterday). The nurse finally gets his leg cleaned up and lets him pick out a bandaid (he wanted the plain brown one, not ninja turtles, not iron man, not perry the platypus – plain brown) but he was still mildly freaking out. Maeli was crying because she was overtired. Danny decides to act up. He had ridden in the stroller in and had taken off his boots. He wouldn’t put his boots back on, and he refused to walk and let Sam sit in the stroller. As we walked out I needed to get a receipt from the office that Sam had gotten his shot for the school, I had to just hold Maeli while we waited for that because she was so upset at that point. I got it, and we left the office with both Sam and Maeli in hysterics. Danny on the other hand is feeling smug for having helped rile Sam up even more. When we got to the van Danny hits his head on another car in his smugness so he’s crying too. Awesome. Everyone cried on the way home and we made frozen pizza for dinner, and called it an early night at the Hansen house.
Today’s Adventure
So, after yesterday’s adventure I was hoping for a quieter day today – hahahaha! How naive I must be. This morning I had to get everyone up and ready early because I’d volunteered to take in the snack today for “W” day and hadn’t made it to the grocery store yesterday ( it’s what I’d planned to do while Eric took Sam to the doctor’s. Then last night I was helped Eric Hansen put a hitch on our van – because when you’re the Young Men’s president it’s important to have a hitch 😉 ) Luckily everyone woke up at a relatively decent time and I had all three kids ready before 8:25 and even remembered to text my friend whose son I usually walk to the bus stop on Tuesday to see if she could find someone else to walk him. Good start! We got all of our groceries and our W snack (wheat thins and gummy worms), but of course before we could check out the boys both needed to go to the bathroom. Since Danny is still in the process of potty training I wasn’t going to mess with that and sent them together to the men’s room while I waited with Maeli. It’s always a little stressful to send the boys into public restrooms on their own, but that went off without event. We got bagels for everyone for breakfast (Danny wanted the chocolate kind – aka a donut – but I was able to talk him into a blueberry bagel instead) and got everyone loaded into the car without incident. I realized though that I’d forgotten the actual snack bucket at home. Luckily I was scheduled to help in Sam’s class anyways so I sent Sam with one grocery bag that contained the snack and promised to bring the bucket when I came in.
When we got home Danny started whining about not wanting to go to preschool. You need to understand that Danny’s preschool takes place in the home of our next door neighbor. The same neighbor whose house he runs away to on average once a day. The same house that he’s so comfortable at that I found out (to my mortification) that he will let himself in the back door, go straight to the pantry, grab himself a granola bar and just join into the conversation. You know, someone who he really doesn’t like 😛 But because I want him to go to preschool and it isn’t his idea, he never wants to go. I decided not to address it since that only seems to get him more upset. I take Maeli upstairs to Eric, and pick up Danny’s preschool bag. Danny tells me defiantly, “I’m not wearing shoes, I won’t put them on” in the apparent hope that I care enough about whether he wears shoes to get him out of going to preschool. I don’t 🙂 So I just pick him up and carry him over while he whimpers on my shoulder. I set him down in a chair and he stands on the table stamping his foot… and I leave. Presumably once I leave he calmed down again pretty quick.
So, back at home it’s time for me to shower and get ready to go to Sam’s class. I get all ready, feed Maeli and take her over to my friend’s house. She agreed to watch Maeli and Danny while I was helping at the school but let me know that her mom would be the one doing most of the watching. I guess she’d forgotten to tell her mom I was coming because she wasn’t expecting me, but she cheerfully took Maeli anyways and I headed off to the school.
When I walked into the office to sign in I realized that I’d left both the snack bucket and the immunization form in my car, but I decide that I’ll get them after helping. We start doing stations and I get a text from the girl watching Danny and Maeli. Luckily I was wearing my Pebble so I was able to glance at my watch and see it, otherwise I probably would have ignored any incoming messages until after class was over. The text said, “Sorry to bug you… so after preschool Anna said ‘Danny you’re going to go to Kashe’s.’ Danny promptly ran home and in the door. And locked it. He won’t open it. So… I know you’re coming home soon. We’re just trying to get Danny to open it.” My heart sunk. Not because this was unexpected, actually I had thought through this earlier in the day and thought that I needed to make sure our front door was locked before I left… and I thought it was. Obviously, I had forgotten. My mind started racing through how they could get in to him, while still trying to guide the kindergartners through doing their W page in their alphabet books. I don’t have a spare key outside or anything like that so I thought I was just sunk and I’d probably have to bug out early to go get Danny. Then I remembered that we have a keypad on our garage so I texted back our garage code. My friend was able to get in and find Danny, who had come inside and was hysterical because (obviously) no one was home. She showed Danny the text from me that I’d be coming home soon and I guess that was enough to convince him to go to his friend’s house (all of 4 doors down) of his own accord.
Once Sam was packed up we hurried out to the van, grabbed the snack bucket and immunization record to bring back into the school. Returned both of those items to where they needed to go and turned in my visitors badge. We got back to pick up Danny and Maeli. Crystal tells me about their adventure with Danny (she was supposed to still be asleep since she’s a nurse and is working tonight). She also tells me how Maeli cried at her mom every time she would look at her while I was gone 🙁 While we’re talking my phone keeps ringing from the school, but I decide they can leave a message and I’ll call back when I get home. Sam however didn’t agree with that plan and answered it for me. So while I’m loading kids into the car I’m talking to the school nurse. She tells me that the paper I brought in was not sufficient and that Sam had 3 shots to get, not just 1. My brain is a little frazzled but I remember that there should be two separate immunization records in Sam’s folder – one that has most of his shots, and another that records the two shots he’d received earlier this year. She put me on hold and was able to find that, but I still need to get her an actual immunization record, and not the receipt saying he’s received the immunization, for the shot he received yesterday. At this point I sort of feel like I should have expected that and agree to get her the right thing and hang up.
The Moral of the Story
So, as you might imagine, I’ve spent a lot of time lately feeling like I look in that picture at the top – e x h a u s t e d. What you might not expect though is this – I love every minute of it. That’s not to say that I sit there in the doctor’s office while Sam’s bleeding and freaking out thinking, “Wahoo! This is a blast!” but I wouldn’t trade those crazy experiences for anything. I love being involved and helping out and doing what I can do to help make this world a better place. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to raise these kids and have these crazy adventures. This is what life is all about, and even though it’s tiring, and messy, and stressful – it’s also wonderful, and exhilirating, and joyous! I love being there in Sam’s class and hearing about how he’s well liked and polite. I love seeing Danny’s face light up as he comes home from preschool because he’s excited to show me all the cool things he’s done. I love watching Maeli discover new things and learn new tricks. I can honestly say that when people look and tell me, “Looks like your hands are full” I can truthfully answer, “but so is my heart.”
In Doctrine & Covenants 58:27 we read, “Verily I say, men [and women!] should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness;” At the end of the day I may be totally worn out and able to fall asleep as fast as this little girl –
But, I’m also able to answer the question, “Have I Done Any Good in the World Today” with a loud and resounding – YES! And that’s the best feeling I could ask for.
So while I appreciate the urgings from friends that I can just say no to more things and to take more time to take care of myself… I don’t plan to slow down. I’m involved in a lot, but I’m happy being busy. The things I do might not always be done as well as I would like, or as quickly as I would like, but I’m happy to be able to do them.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of Maeli. I’m not sure what she’s gotten into but despite having been inside all day, and having showered this morning… she suddenly smells like dog poop. While I investigate what she found and get her cleaned up you can enjoy this video that I think will speak to anyone who has found themselves in the midst of adventures like mine.
(If the video won’t play here try this link instead)
A couple years back a friend of mine posted a link to a 
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