Mother's Day Mirth

The DR has been pretty good  about remembering and celebrating special days over the years-  but the last several Mother's Days have been very sub par-  as in I had to go buy gifts for my children to give me.  That is sucky by the way.

Anyway- after several attempts at discussion of our own mothers, which turned into me-  I informed the DR that I preferred to not be personally involved with my own Mother's day.

At one point he asked me again what I wanted for Mother's day- he then said- "I know- you want your tubes cut."- 

I am sure the look on my face was priceless- then he busted up laughing.

I informed him that it was a little late for that- since I had taken even more drastic measures than that to prevent any other mother making.

Maybe you had to be there-  but the comment that I wanted my tubes cut immediately on the heels of the words "Mother's Day'  was rather funny.



He meant to say I want my columns cut.

Random Memory

I think I was in Junior High-  possibly high school- but not older than a freshman.  I came home from school one day to find my bedroom spotless.  Except for a few random items which did not belong to me or my sister.

It took her three hours, but my mom had cleaned mine and my sister's room spotless. I have no idea what all she found and had to clean up-  but I am sure it was a disaster area.

I remember walking in and feeling so good- Not only the great feeling of being in a room so totally clean that I didn't have to do-  but also that my mom cleaned my room and didn't say anything bad about it to me.

I don't remember if I said thank you.

THANK YOU MOM!!!

I apologize.....

I am sorry.  I want to get my trip posted, but first I didn't have the pictures- the DR did.  And now, I have no time.

I also want to say I am thankful for a lot of things-  but again with the no time.

I am thankful for my mom. She is a source of entertainment. ( a co-worker helped her come up with an "explanation" as to why the identical necklaces- um, sorry, won't fly-  She just really, really, really liked it and forgot she already gave me one)  And she is the reason I exist.  And my siblings exist.  And an Awesome Grandma!!!!!

Tender Mercies amongst the Minefields in May

There is an interesting phrase in blogland- Keeping it Real. I know I don't keep it as real as I could, because it would often be such a downer, and far too personal about other people in my life. So I edit my life. Or avoid posting all together.

May is a tough month to get through. There are plenty of happy things like birthdays of loved ones, but there are also some tough, less than fun memories. In May, my Grandma A. finally succumbed to cancer. In May, I suffered my first miscarriage shortly before what would have been my first "Mother's Day". In May, my Grandma F suffered a stroke, which ended her life two months later. In May, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. In May, 22 years ago, my father was hit head on by a car while riding his motorcycle. This led to days of wondering if he would live, weeks of wondering if he would ever wake from the comma, then months of what will he regain in his abilities, then the years of hard stress and trauma of his head-injured state and all that comes with it- most often with little to no support from extended family and friends. He is hard. His life is hard.

May is full of busy, extra things to finish off the school year. May is Mother's Day. I am not a very big fan. I spent quite a few years dreading it. This year, I got a new dress. I picked it out and bought it because the DR was always too busy to go with me to look. We went and bought the flowers and plants for the yard and garden. I sat through two disastrous soccer games, made all the more frustrating because- AYSO is supposed to be even teams- never is, and for Oldest, his teammates from the neighboring town who are not supposed to be playing AYSO are and they put it first over Comp. Pretty hard to get better if you never practice. Then the DR sent me to the bookstore to buy myself a gift from my children. He had spent the morning cooking a Mother's day breakfast with the bishopric that I didn't get to even eat, and mowing, aerating, and fertilizing the yard. I picked up a little plaque and had them wrap it so that was not done by me. The DR didn't get my dress wrapped, but I wanted to wear it to church, so I did. However, I did remember something that I purchased a while ago when it was on sale, and pulled it out so he could have the patients wrap it up for them to give to me. It is pretty tough to pretend lots of excitement and joy under the circumstances, especially when you hear your son ask his sister what it is. But, I do love them. Willow Tree figurines. I bought them two years ago and had different plans for them. I remembered their existence Sunday morning.

My day was less than stellar beginning with patient contention while trying to get ready for church. I did enjoy the talks at church, because the first one was the awesome anti-perfect mother talk given by our home teacher who is a single man who has never been married with children. His was almost as good as one the DR gave years ago. I had a really good conversation with a sister whose husband died tragically almost three years ago, and who recently married, divorced, and then re-married one of the single fathers in our ward. We talked about her step children and how their mother had called that morning, upset because they weren't with her on Mother's day. It was good to talk with her. I know her life has been so tough the last several years and that she has such a good heart. I hope they are able to get through the tough times and make it as a family this time.

After church, I saw I missed a call, and assuming it was from Outpatient, was surprised to hear Happy Mother's Day wishes from Dalton instead :). I tried to relax and read, but my body wanted to relax all the way to sleep :). The DR got back from his meetings, and he started to make dinner so we could take it up to his brother's house. I helped him, even though he kept trying to shoo me away. Cooking is therapeutic for me. I only oversaw Oldest make his first ever cookies from scratch. My beloved Outpatient called. He is doing well. I tried to call my mom- no answer. The DR tried to call his mom. Every way possible. No answer. Off we went to dinner and had a lot of good food, talked about their Missionary Mother's Day call.

My mood and emotions were getting better. Then the DR had me open my "gifts". I had seriously forgotten how awesome those figurines are. As I unwrapped the main box, the words held my attention. As did the smiling faces of my three local patients.

Wow.

Then I pulled out the individual boxes.

A blessing of PEACE-

LOVE, everlasting and true-

JOY frees the spirit.

A reminder that I need to try harder to be better at these three things.

And, Joy truly does free the spirit.

P.S. just so you know, the DR is usually really good about taking care of special days. Most of the time, I am pretty spoiled.

Reflections

My sister has a Christmas card on her fridge. In it, the family declares that 2009 was their most boring year ever.

Maybe 2010 will bring that for us? Not holding my breath- but I can dream right?

2009 brought many, many blessings, some in pretty good disguises. Some of those blessings came wrapped in trials, but were blessings none the less.

For my short little goal list- here is how I fared. Losing weight- not so much. My doctor says welcome to my 40's. My baby was baptised and it was a wonderful day and night. My Outpatient did Return With Honor- and although it is not a perfect world and that return brought some heartache and transition, it is good to have him home and moving forward with his life. He is currently dating a hockey loving gal- and she is studying accounting. We have had the opportunity to have her stay with us a few days and getting to know her better. She also has a lead thumb on a snowmobile. I can't imagine :) As for the babies- the seventh one arrived safe and sound just three days before Christmas and is a beauty (well- handsome) and brought the count to 5 girls and 2 boys. The blessings of babies in a family are so wonderful. We spent quality time as a family, and are looking forward to even more of that. I thoroughly enjoyed teaching Oldest in Primary and am now looking forward to being Middle's Activity Day leader. I can say with firm confidence that I did support the DR in every aspect of his life.


As for blessings- I hope I have done a good job of documenting those- Miracles have been most abundant.
My sister- cancer free- year two.
My mom- half way through year one- just had her most recent scan- but so far, so good.
Babies- those who have had issues- are doing really well, and the others are all chubby and healthy and loveably squishy.
Safe return on two wonderful missionary boys, and the sending out of three new ones; plus the DR's parents.
The DR- still my number one Fan ( some days I am his number 2 priority- but that is okay)
Outpatient- mostly wonderful, blessed in his schooling situation right now.
Oldest- going to be a wonderful young man.
Middle- growing into a beautiful young girl.
Youngest- progress in her issues, and a joy.
Sophie- my devoted permababy.

It has been quite the year. Certainly not boring. Certainly not easy. But definitely Worth It!


May this new year be as full of the Tender Mercies of the Lord as 2009 has been.

Bring it on.

Weekend Quick Report

The call, in a word, AWESOME! We let the Comp's parents call first as they were home before we were. It was a good thing. They talked for quite a bit longer than they were supposed to, and so did we. It is just too darn hard to hang up. The family whose home they were at have added myself and the DR to their Skype, and I had my computer on, and she tried to call us, but her mike didn't work. This happened about an hour before "Call Time"- anyhow, the DR got on and tried to communicate (funny! He always makes fun of me when I am trying, but he does the same things when he is) long story short, about half way through him trying to help her fix her computer microphone with him speaking NO Portuguese, and her NO English, he finds out that it has now become, in fact, THE OUTPATIENT on the other end at this point. DR asked "Is Elder L there? and the reply- " ya- who do you think is typing English this fast?"

There is giddiness just knowing that he is communicating right then. Anyway, he is so happy, working hard, and wow can he speak fast! He had a long list for Head Nurse- of course. But then each of the kids spoke to him briefly, the DR- not so briefly, then I got one more quick turn.

As I was trying to say goodbye, and find out why Miss Sophie was barking her head off (strange dog in yard), and accidently letting strange dog enter my house uninvited, Best Friend pulled up. I think she about died when she saw I was still on THE CALL, and eventually couldn't help herself, and put her ear to the phone, without him knowing. It was pretty awesome!

She did what I did. Instant tears just hearing the voice, which for her, has been a whole year. It was perfect, and he doesn't even know. Yet.

Happy Mother's Day

"Do not kiss your children so they will kiss you back, but so they will kiss their children and their childrens' children" Noah Benshea



"A mother understands what a child does not say." Jewish Proverb



"It will be gone before you know it. The fingerprints on the wall appear higher and higher. Then suddenly they disappear." Dorothy Euslin



From my mother, I learned to be my child's friend. I learned that celebrating holidays matters to children. I learned to cook because she didn't. I also learned to sew because she didn't. I learned that an event was worth making special. I learned to appreciate good friends. I learned to be strong in the face of adversity. I learned what I wanted in a marriage partner and what I didn't. I learned that you can burn Sunday dinner three weeks in a row but your children will still love you. I learned to go the extra mile. I learned to go to church on Sunday and to do my best to serve in whatever capacity that I am asked. I learned faith from my mom. I learned to love from my mom.

I am grateful today for the women who came before me. For their examples. For those characteristics which are inherent in my genetic make up.

I am grateful for those special people who call me mom.

Teary- again.

In just 19 hours, I hope to be enjoying my very last missionary call from the Outpatient. This is an event waited for on both sides. I will be so grateful to have my son back in his own country, but I will hurt for him having to leave the people whom he has come to love so much.

I have many things that I wish I could get done before he comes home, but I know he has experienced much of doing without, and seeing how little people truly need compared to how much we think we need.

I am teary tonight- but of course. It has been an interesting week or two. I have run into many mothers of the Outpatient's friends. Mostly the girls- but a few guys as well. The Guys Moms' are all conversations about this ones release date, or that one's year mark- but the girls moms have been kind of funny. There are a few who, after a carefully worded inquiry about Best Friend, made sure to let me know their daughters are still around and to be sure to have him call them when he gets home. I promise I will pass on the message, what he chooses to do with that information is entirely up to him, although I feel (know, actually) that he most likely won't be calling anyone- with one exception. I have been told over the years what a catch my boy is/ will be. I happen to agree with this assessment. He is something special. There are several mommas who wouldn't mind adding him to their families.

My son. I remember the day I was told I was having a boy. It wasn't really a surprise, I kind of knew in my heart already. That was the day I learned to cry over everything. I cried over FTD commercials and at every missionary farewell and homecoming- whether I knew them or not. He has been a source of joy and fun, entertainment, and an honest appraisal of me as a mother. Okay- so that isn't always so fun, as the truth can be painful. But he is my friend and I am his friend.

To hear his voice will make me want to grab his face- it always does. A little over four months and I am there. Father- Thank You for this boy who is now a man in the eyes of the world, but will forever be that baby who first made me a mom.

Ode to the Outpatient

My sister's blog gave me an idea-

My Outpatient (the firstborn patient)- the one that has left my domain- is a great person. He is turning out to be an amazing individual. When he was a baby, he slept through the night almost from day one, he cut teeth with nary a complaint, was super social - (still is) talked like a little adult, was so happy and healthy- even though we had quite a scare for months getting him into the world. Then he turned three. That is another story for another day. But he is an easy going, but outgoing young man (weird to think he is almost the age I was when I got married- heaven forbid) He is multi-talented. He is creative, musical, artistic, athletic, intelligent,computer literate, and when the goal is his- very determined. He has a great gift for being a friend and forgiving. He has been given many talents and gifts, and has also had a few trials. He also is a young man of great faith. He believes in the power of prayer, faith, and a Father in Heaven who loves him. He tries to help others, is a good employee, and he talks in his sleep (as well as walks and has entire events occur in his sleep). As a matter of fact, he is bilingual in his sleep as well as when he is awake. He just found out that lovely info! LOL! He is crazy fun loving- a total yellow, with a heart of gold. Love him to death and even if I wasn't his mom, I would think he was amazing.

My favorite memory for now, is holding him before letting him go.

Blessings Straight from Heaven

Our oldest inpatient is a special blessing. We were so blessed to have him join our family when he was just two days old. Watching the outpatient carry that oh so tiny (compared to the half grown things my own body produces)bundle to us never fails to bring me to tears. His name has proven to be especially appropriate and we hope that stays that way. He is the first to remind us of scripture study, family prayer, and family home evening. He is so interested in all things living- so much so that he loves to hunt and fish- good news for the DR. He is soft hearted, and tender in spirit. He is a great help with doing what are his responsibilities without much reminding, and more than willing to help out the DR with outside chores. He has special places in his heart for each of his uncles- loves his aunts- but the Uncles most of all. He is getting so big- I can't even imagine how tall and broad he will become. He loves scouting. He is at odds with his sisters often, but then when you have such strong personalities co-habitating- it is bound to get interesting. He likes to share information; if he has it, he will share it. This is NOT always a good thing. I am so very blessed to have the gift of mothering this special pre-teen.



Favorite memory for now- driving home from taking the outpatient to the airport, listening to a song called- "it's your song" and hearing him cry for over a half hour. Touched my heart-

Musings on the Middle

The middle patient was quite the surprise. Born 10 years after the Outpatient, and only 1.5 years behind the Oldest, I just kept thinking- I have a baby- now I have two babies. The first few years were a blur, but the one stand out characteristic- MOVEMENT. She is and always has been very busy. She can't sit still for long, and her mind ( and mouth) are always going. She is a good student, and very communicative. She has a will of iron, and yet a soft heart. She is extremely independent, wants to do and try lots of things herself. My oldest daughter. She has a few (cough) personality traits in common with her mom, but she is athletic, graceful, musical, creative, and can be very generous. She is also very determined. She loves to sing, and dance, perform for the masses. She has turned into a chore doin' helper this summer for which I am grateful. She is soon to be in double digits. How did that happen? She loves little kids and loves to mother and play with them. She wants to dress modestly, but loves the girly stuff like hair, jewelry, clothes. She is social and loves to be with friends. She tells her sister how beautiful she is in one minute then gets bent out of shape because someone thinks they are twins. ? Hello? This is bad how? She doesn't like being the older sister who's 2.5 years younger sister is almost as tall as she is- I say- call your aunt! She can empathize and sympathize.

Favorite memory for now- watching her be baptised by her big brother- at her request.

Commemorating the Youngest.

The youngest patient was almost as big a surprise as her sister. She was by far the hardest pregnancy I had- only in part to the fact that I had three kids- two who were under 4. She made up for that by being the most peaceful, easy going baby I had. She jabbered until she was almost three which we likened to the character BOO in Monsters I N C. She is social beyond- hasn't met a stranger. She visits with anyone and everyone and is no respecter of persons. She loves and emotes without reserve. She glows when she performs and seems completely oblivious to her charm. She is making up for the easy baby years now. She is the opposite of her sister for now in the girly stuff. She wants jeans and shirts- although she can dress up upon occasion. She doesn't like her hair done most of the time. She has a great imagination and can entertain herself for hours. She names her blankets (Francis, Peanut Butter), all her dolls and animals (lots of them to name) and has had a wide variety of imaginary friends and dogs. Jonny,(crazy red hair, and freckles) Koto (white with brown spots) Kayla (pink poodle that pottied in Daddy's truck), along with many others. The girl never wants for company- and has hardly ever said "I'm bored". She is also determined- do you see a pattern? I am so glad I talked the DR into one more when we were still in a blur from the older ones.

Favorite memory for now- TaVaci Spring Concert- "Annie" number with the DR.

Invisible Moms - sent to me by a great mom and friend

"Invisible Moms Thanks for all you do!

Invisible Moms. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others, all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package,and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Carol , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees." In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become, for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Carol. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. Great Job, MOM!Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know ..... I just did! "

This is a long one- but I thought it was great and decided to share it here.

Mother Guilt Day

Hands down- the best Mother's day talk I ever heard was given by the DR, heavily influenced by me. I still regret to this day that I didn't think to record it- but then I didn't know how great it was going to be. When he told me that he would be speaking, I told him he needed to think about what mother's day means to Women- and I say women because not every woman is a mother. At the time we were experiencing infertility and all the mixed bag of emotions that comes with that so I was personally particularly sensitive to the topic. Having the "perfect" mother talk thrown at me was not exactly appealing. So he proceeded to give the best darn talk about perfect mothers that has ever been given. He talked about the perfect mother of his who forgot her children at friends' homes until they finally put them to bed, or forgot them at home when the family left for church- causing a crying three year old to ride her trike to the chaple. Or his perfect mother-in-law who burnt Sunday dinner three weeks in a row and calls gazebos-garbanzos; stuff like that. He also talked about how his perfect mother-in-law would write notes and leave them for her children when they were having troubles or success and she was always in the stands cheering on her children. How his perfect mother drove 3 hours one way to take kids to piano lessons even though she is directionally challenged and forgot where she parked her suburban. He related several other stories that have slipped my memory bank but I was a proud wife at the end of that talk!

As mothers- we all fail more often that we would like - pure and simple. We make mistakes, we try harder and sometimes make bigger mistakes, but the fact is our children love us regardless. I had the thought today that their love for us is actually like Heavenly Father's. We mess up but they love us anyway. In having the opportunity to talk to my oldest after 5 months, I realized he really does love me despite myself.

My mother is a bit different from her children- for the most part, we are logically minded first, then with our heart- She just starts with her heart and she is right. Thanks Mom- for being my friend, and a pretty darn perfect grandma!

Becoming my Mother

I am very concerned. There have been signs along the way. I should be prepared. But- I am becoming my mother. I am in the process of spring cleaning my closet ( for the first time in quite a few years). As I am pulling clothes out (dust covered means I really should get rid of those don't you think? ) I am finding quite the treasure trove of stashed stuff. The clincher was finding these three little blue books called "I celebrate you" by Karla Dornacher which have places in them to be filled out by the giver which makes them a very personal gift. UMMM- the problem is- I had four of these at one time and I have absolutely no recollection to whom the missing one was given. Why is this a problem you may very well ask? I bought these books to give to my mother and three sisters. So whichever of you happened to receive her book, would you please be very kind to your soon to be committed sister and let me know who you are as I really and truly would like to give the rest of you- yours- My bets are on D or Mom- although there is a slight suspicion to Amyrinkus ( I am almost completely, 98% sure it was not SmAsh-but you never know). And Mom- we do love you very much, especially because of these idiosycracies that we are slowing uncovering in ourselves. Anyone need a journal from the dollar store?