InLoveBlog

Impending Doom

I have exactly 30 minutes til my kids walk in from their last full day of school. Summer is here! (Yeah they have school for an hour tomorrow but that doesn’t really count except as an evil educator’s trap to get me out of bed early one more day.)

I have been dreading summer. I am usually way excited about it as I am an easy-going gal that loves the pool, smoothies, and sleeping in. This summer is different for me, just like life lately. I am in the middle of a mid-life crisis, therefore nothing is meant to be enjoyed.

How am I spending my last 30 minutes of freedom (when the toddling tornado happens to be napping)? I am eating straight from the bag of chips while zoning out into my computer. And it feels so good. I may not get to post for a few more months as the children think my laptop is meant solely for their entertainment. I cannot get my hands on it. Ever.

I know I am a killjoy lately. I cannot even stand to listen to myself on the blog. negative. negative. negative.

This is what I have figured out. I hate being poor. I have been poor my whole life. I hate NOT having control over it. We aren’t really poor. My hubby has a great income, but $1,000 a month goes to student loans and that eats up our disposable income. I just want financial freedom to do what I want when I want. I had all these grand ideas a few months back: I was going back to school, I would get a good job, we’d start chipping away at the student loans. But then God stepped in. He not only said, “Alice quit your job, you need to be home”, but he also said, “You have one more baby waiting.” Although having another member of the family join us from God’s realms makes me happy, all the other stuff that goes with it does not.

Babies are HARD and I am FORTY years old!! I am not even out of the hard stage with Caroline yet and I am willingly going to jump back into it again?? Not only am I dreading the ins and outs of caring for a baby (not the baby itself) but I can’t get over the resentment I feel that I can’t work to provide myself with greater financial freedom. I just want to have a vacation now and again, be able to afford to go to college, and give my kids nice things. Is that too much to ask?

But I love God, I believe in Him, and I am trying my hardest to believe Him…Believe that He knows best for me. I feel like He is guiding me OUT of certain areas of my life: blogging, book reviews, working at the school, but I haven’t figured out anything that He is guiding me into yet. Except for the baby. And the baby only leaves me conflicted and doubtful. It took me 3 years to get Caroline and 3 more to get the last pregnancy that I miscarried at 18 weeks. Time is running out.

And what is upon me? Summer. All my kids here every minute of every day wanting to be entertained, and I have no extra money. I am not happy about it. I just want to go and have fun with them every day. I know I can do that without money and have even planned something to do every day that doesn’t cost money, but I don’t want to do it that way, I want to do it MY way, which would include spending money.

I feel like in my life cinematic experience there is a little creature popping up on the screen every 30 seconds with a dun, dun, dun. I am living a tragedy.

I take my anti-depressants, I run 3 times a week, I don’t feel necessarily depressed, but WHY do I sound like I am? I just can’t get happy unless I get to do what I WANT TO DO. Can I find a happy medium between pursuing my own happiness while simultaneously listening to God? I don’t know. If I can I don’t know HOW yet.

I can tell you one thing, it’s going to be near to impossible during the months of June, July, and August. Good timing, God.

Pooping in Peace

I felt euphoric in the bathroom a moment ago. I had just finished cleaning my room (which is always the last place to get attention), folding three loads of laundry, and parking Caroline in front of a Barbie movie. Because I had already done a lot of the household duties for the day and given Caroline enough attention this morning (so she was happy to veg and watch TV for a bit), I found myself able to use the restroom in total peace.

I am always astounded to think that there are actually people in this world who don’t know the bliss one can have by just being left alone to do their business. Does anyone else find that motherhood is one big long lesson of learning to appreciate all the things you took for granted before? At least 50% of the time while I am in the bathroom, one of my older kids (who are not so young anymore mind you – 9,11, and 13) comes barging in with non-emergency items of business. I sometimes worry that in my obituary someone will write my catch phrase, “Really? This can’t wait 5 minutes? Get out of my bathroom! Please! Can’t a mom just poop in peace?”

I really wonder if I will become totally constipated once I am an empty-nester. I don’t think my body will know what to do with a completely quiet bathroom.

So while I was in the bathroom just enjoying the moment of peace I pondered on WHY I felt so happy? Was it just the moment of peace and quiet or was it more? I came up with the fact that over the previous 12 hours I had done some things just for me. Last night LG and I snuck away to see the late $5 movie of StarTrek. We had a blast and it was a bit nostalgic for me as we used to watch Star Trek every night at 11 p.m. as newlyweds. (It was the only channel that came in without paying for cable) This morning a friend texted me unexpectedly and we went and got a Jamba Juice together. I am such an extrovert and often forget to feed my personal need for human relations.

So today’s chores (although the same as every other day) didn’t seem typically mundane; I didn’t mind them as much. I was able to power through them and see them for what they are: a necessary evil. Getting them done after I already had some fun and before a nice quiet moment to myself in the bathroom made my life a lot happier today.

Mom advice to myself for the future: sandwich the mundane between the non-mundane and start locking the door to the bathroom.

How We Love Being Rested {vlog}

We have four children therefore we are always tired. (I wonder if the amount of possible sleep lessens with each kid or if we were to keep adding a few if it wouldn’t really make much of a difference) It’s always so easy to understand why I have a hard time loving my life when I have gotten a great stretch of sleep: duh? I’m exhausted!

Today I really enjoyed a nice lazy morning with the hubby hub hubs. {I even got him in on the vlog – and yes I did pay up for the bribe right after I turned off the camera}

Wow. This morning was so nice. I was happy all day long not just because I was rested but because I started my morning doing the one thing that I love and miss: SLEEPING. I cannot ever get enough sleep. I truthfully would live my life to the fullest and be the most happy and productive if I could get 12 hours a night preferably between the hours of midnight and noon. (It’s my life goal to someday live up to the scripture about being early to bed and early to rise)

It’s always nice to sleep cuddled up with the hubby and he is the BEST about letting me tuck my right knee up into his right ribcage (I sleep on the tummy and he sleeps on his back) and warm my toes in between his massive calf muscles. In the winter LG serves as the best electric blanket ever. He’s hotter than Jacob the warewolf, but truthfully I actually sleep better without him in the bed. He snores sometimes (o.k. 80% of the time) and I love LOVE love having the whole bed to stretch out in and taking all the blankets for myself.

So in my optimal world I guess I would just require 10 hours of sleep with an hour before and after the actual sleeping for cuddling time with my man. (or whatever else the cuddling may or may not lead to)

Aren’t Fred and George Weasley from Harry Potter the best characters of all time. I want twin boys and I want to name them Fred and George. No joke. Talk about not getting any sleep.

A Whole Month

I’ve been on my new journey for a whole month and it’s been somewhat like detox. I don’t feel the need to check my e-mail anymore as there won’t be anything there for me of social importance. I’m surprised because I am kind of enjoying the solitude. I have had a lot of time on my hands to get in touch with myself.

I’m an attentionmonger. It’s been kind of fun to attack this weakness. Liberating to not need people as much.

It also can be lonely. I have become more aware of how extroverted I am. I need more social in my life, but unlike my past I need the social to have meaning. I am trying to focus on quality instead of quantity. I want to start a bookclub. I feel like my bookclub ladies in Knoxville were some of my closest relationships that made a difference in my life.

I’ve been reading a lot. In the past two days, I have enjoyed two books: Lucky by Alice Sebold (LOVE HER) and Heaven is Here by Stephanie Nielson. Both have given me perspective for me. I am blessed. I also need to be happy with a very small sphere of influence even if it’s just my own little family.

The one thing I have been feeling a lot in the past month is that there is something out there for me. There is some way that I will make my stamp on the world, I just don’t know what it is. I feel like I need to figure it out. It’s been a little frustrating.

Am I supposed to adopt more kids? Have more kids? Write an inspirational book? Just keep living my quiet little life and enjoying my family? Then I go back to my self peptalk of “Alice, you can’t live your life for other people to notice. You just have to live your life FOR other people.”

I think the thing I notice the most about people who truly influence others is that they are comfortable in their own skin. My skin? It doesn’t fit quite right. I am working on it.

Soaking in the small moments {vlog}

I’ve discovered a really great blog called Momastery. Apparently I am the last one of the planet, as the author Glennon has a newly released book and 81,000 followers on facebook. I’ve added her book to my goodreads and her blog to my reader and have immensely enjoyed her honesty about motherhood and the hardships she has faced (alcoholism and bulemia).

I guess I am just kind of a lover of tragedy – the overcoming of it draws me in every time. I love rooting for the human spirit. Momastery is a place which encourages moms to be real about their every day lives – it’s a breathe of fresh air in an online mom world that seems to embrace elaboration, exaggeration, and the elusive thing we call mom perfection. Here are some of her interviews. She discusses her theory that we have to just soak in the small moments of motherhood. It was a relief for me to realize that I wasn’t the only mom on the planet that dreads much of motherhood and that I can just power through most of the hard stuff (when 3 kids are having a meltdown while you are trying to check out at Target) and focus on really soaking up the ever brief and sporadic small moments of peace and happiness in the family.

Back in the day, it was my hero Erma Bombeck who did the same thing for honesty in motherhood. I remember reading her book about motherhood years back and crying as I read of the mother imprisoned for killing her children. She had discovered Erma Bombeck’s writings in prison and loved her humor and honesty. She wrote Bombeck a letter to tell her thanks for her honest voice about motherhood. She lamented, “If all moms would have been honest, I would have realized I wasn’t crazy when the weight of mothering was too unbearable.”

So when the baby is teething for a second year in a row and the toddler wiped poop all over her crib and the kindergartner comes home with a naughty note for calling someone a loser and the mean man at the library tells you to shut your kids up and all of these things happen in the same day (or not) just know you are not alone in motherhood. It is this hard for everyone. If the only moment you can soak in is after the kids are asleep and you sit down with a glass of grape juice and a good book to read one page and conk out in exhaustion it’s completely normal. Don’t fret. Sometime in the next day you may get the gem when your kids are holding hands while picking dandelions while the FedEx guy delivers you a box of long-stem red roses. Soak it in. If I know one thing about motherhood it’s this: the worst moments won’t last. And this: the next moment will be even better (even if it doesn’t happen for another month or two.)

Live each day like it’s your last.

My grandma died of Alzheimer’s. My mom has memory issues. I won’t be surprised if she’s got it too. When I give myself time to think about it (which I try not to make too often) I am totally convinced that this too will be my lot in life. I am 39 years old and have struggled with my memory for at least a decade already. It’s scary when I sit down to the computer and can’t remember the name of a website that I frequent every day or when I have to turn around in the car 5 times in the same trip because I keep turning in the wrong direction. I can’t remember people’s names, movies I just watched, and conversations that have taken place. It’s terrifying.

Last weekend my parents were in town. For some reason (I can only figure it was her attempt to connect with me) my mom pointed out my grey hair. I hadn’t had time to color the roots and at 39 years old it’s a source of embarrassment for me. I have told my mom many many times that I don’t like her pointing it out, yet every time I see her she does. I immediately got defensive. It’s part of growing up with a critical mother. I was immediately irritated and forcefully said, “Mom, why do you do this every time I see you? You always point out my grey hair when I’ve told you I don’t like it.” She stammered through her response, “I think it’s great. You are going to have the beautiful white hair like your Grandma and Aunt Shirley.” I do hope for their beautiful hair but not for at least 20 more years. My mom walked off obviously shaken. I felt awful. I went over to her, gave her a hug, and said, “Mom, I’m sorry, I know you just forget.” With tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry Alice, I do forget.”

Yesterday I had a thought. It was short-lived but was extremely powerful. What if God wants me to spend more time at home because my memory will be completely gone in the next ten years? I know that is being paranoid but I had just read about a son who lost his mother to early onset in her 50’s and sometimes I am an hypochondriac. Although I pushed the thought out of my mind as quickly as it came its affect lingered. What if I only had today as my last day with my kids? What if this was my last week? My last year? What would I change? A lot. Too much changing needs to take place, but I was able to view this little faith experiment called being “in love at home” with a new perspective as a gift to me and my family. Instead of being bitter, I got down on my knees and said thanks to my God and asked Him to make the changes faster. I pleaded, “Help me make the most of my time, and connect with my family.” It’s still a challenge. It’s not like it just gets simple when we are dealing with every day life, but my heart had a tiny change and I am grateful for it.

I learned last year that it’s a lot easier to be kind to the ones around us after a family member has died, but I am more determined to be kind and loving when it’s not as easy like when someone hurts my feelings for the 15th time.

The Prayers of a Righteous Mother

Sometimes I wonder if praying will really make a difference in my day?

Can God really just change my attitude?

Can He make me love the never-ending amount of work?

Can He help me see my children as they deserve to be seen?

Can He help me not be angry when something gets spilled for the millionth time?

Will He really help me in what seems to be trivial?

Do I really matter to Him?

Will He take time to help me when I am just one of millions of people trying to do a simple job of raising my children in righteousness?

When I take the time to stop what I am doing and get on my knees, I find the answer with no uncertainty.

To each and every one of the questions above, He answers with a resounding, “YES!” When I really take time to listen He also answers with, “Alice, there is nothing more important to me in this world than my children.”

When I watched this video below this morning, I realized that I need to change my perspective. If my children were alone on a train somewhere during a WorldWar and I didn’t know where to find them, I would most certainly pray with more urgency. The things we face in today’s world are just as scary. I need His help. My children need His help. Here is a great read from yesterday that reminded me how much my prayers as a mother will really make a difference for my children.

The prayers of a righteous mother surely include each child by name and that is my goal today.

These are my jewels.

Yesterday at church I did enjoy the story about Cornelia Gracchuser – a famous mother from Rome. (Yes, I just erased the 3 paragraphs I wrote about what I don’t enjoy at church on Mother’s Day – you’ve been spared.)

I researched Cornelia a bit today and found that she gave birth to 12 children (uncommon of Roman times.) Only three of her children survived until adulthood. She was widowed at an early age and devoted herself to her children, refusing all offers of marriage. Her daughter married well, and her two sons (Tiberius and Gaius) ended up as very influential tribunes (like a US Senator) in Rome. They were known as “the Gracchi” – they both ended up dying for their unpopular political views which included the ideas that land monopolies should be limited, the price of corn controlled, and citizenship improved for Italians and Spaniards. Essentially they were pro-underdog and the rich people didn’t like it and had them killed for stirring up the people in popular support.

Cornelia is well remembered as a virtuous Roman woman. The city erected a marble statue in her honor after her death. She stood by her sons throughout their lives and remained poised after their deaths. Perhaps though she is most spoken of because of a very small incident that occurred. She was well-off being the daughter of a war hero and the widow of politician, but it seems that Cornelius didn’t let the wealth rob her of perspective as a mother.

When a wealthy lady visitor came and showed off her jewelry, instead of Cornelius showing off hers in return she brought forth her two sons and said, “These are my jewels.”

How much I want to remember that my children are my greatest jewels. Modern society (like ancient Rome) makes it easy to forget that our children are so much greater than any material wealth we can obtain. I, like so many others, get caught up in other women showing off their treasures and want to have my own to shove right back in their face.

Yesterday as I looked out the window and saw my girls lovingly chatting with each other on the old dilapidated trampoline and then later caught Abigail in the second-hand hammock rocking Caroline,

I wonder if you all heard me around the world as I shouted:

“These are my jewels.”

Hopefully God will help me remember them in all their glory the next time I look in my outdated closet, go on another free date night, and especially when I have to force myself to cook yet one more frugal meal.

Embracing the weakness(es)

Caroline brought this home from preschool today.
It does a really good job of outlining my weakness(es).
Unfortunately, they are plural.
She doesn’t even give away my best ones here.
(I am sure I will be visiting them all in future posts so keep coming back you moms who want to feel better about yourselves.)
Thank you pre-school teacher for the Mother’s Day gift.

1. I like to sleep too much. I’m especially awful in the wee hours of the morning. “Just give me a minute!” I am sure Caroline has heard that one too many times. One time is probably too many.

2. Instead of confessing my love enough I demand things of my children such as “clean your room.” The worst part is this is coming from Caroline who I think I do the best job of telling I love her. How must my other kids be feeling?

3. I don’t like Caroline to clean up with me. In fact I am awful about just wanting my kids to get out of my way when it comes to cleaning. I do let them help, but I need to let them always.

4. I like ALL kinds of food. Yes, I do.

(I am kind of impressed that my 3 year old really knows my favorite color)

The only bit of hope I take from this wonderful Mother’s Day gift is that Caroline still loves me. She loves me because she loves me. Thank goodness!

I take a little comfort from Ether 12:27

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humbles themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will make weak things become strong unto them.

It makes me feel better knowing that God gave me the weaknesses. They only real fault I have is not turning to him to help me overcome them. For some reason I can handle the fact that I haven’t relied on him like I should better than the fact that I am inherently flawed. Today I give myself kuddos for admitting my weakness. That’s always the first step.

In my daily study I just found a gem. Here, you too, can read the address James E. Faust was preparing for the LDS General Conference when he passed away.

He said this:

Each one of us has been given the power to change his or her life. As part of the Lord’s great plan of happiness, we have individual agency to make decisions. We can decide to do better and to be better. In some ways all of us need to change; that is, some of us need to be more kind at home, less selfish, better listeners, and more considerate in the way we treat others. Some of us have habits that need to be changed, habits that harm us and others around us. Sometimes we may need a jolt to propel us into changing.

Let us remember that the power to change is very real, and it is a great spiritual gift from God.

I guess Caroline’s Mother’s Day gift was one of my jolts. Why do they have to happen so often?

I guess I am just a tramp in a bike helmet

Still learning over here.
This morning’s installment in the learn to love being a mom project:
I guess I am just a tramp in a bike helmet.
Do give me a moment to explain.

2012-05-12 17.14.36

Yesterday I couldn’t force myself out on my run. I had a list of things to be done and couldn’t shake them. Still aware of how much happier I am when I get some exercise (which is easiest to do while Caroline is at pre-school) I jumped on my bike. I had gone an hour earlier in the car to try and pick up a gift certificate for teacher appreciation day and the establishment wasn’t open. I wouldn’t have enough time to run there and back but I could certainly do it on my bike in time to do the preK pick up.

As I rode home as fast as I could with the secured gift certificate in my bike basket and my headphones blaring the Glee Pandora station (it’s a happy place – appropriately titled Glee) I had to risk being squashed by the speeding traffic or plow through some malfunctioning sprinklers watering the sidewalk. I plowed through the sprinklers. As I emerged out from under the water cruising about 10 miles an hour I got an extreme sense of euphoria. I can’t even explain it. All I knew is that in that moment

I WAS FREE.

As I pondered how I wanted to feel that way all of the time, I realized why motherhood is so hard on me: there is very little freedom in motherhood. In fact, it is the most all-consuming job ever known to mankind. No wonder I feel so trapped: I am a free spirit. I just want to be free. Other “not as conscientious” mothers may neglect their children in search of their own freedom. Not just OTHER moms, all of us moms probably do that from time to time, I know I do. I know many moms who are always out for their own entertainment to the detriment of their children. I don’t want to be that kind of mom, and so I remain in a conundrum between being a good mom and having my greatest desire of freedom.

I will be exploring solutions on how I can achieve these two important elements in my life simultaneously. One way I do know works is to involve my kids in the free experiences. My favorite memories are when I am being free WITH my family: bike rides, camping trips, Disneyland, ocean visits, silly string fights, mud slinging, dancing in the rain, star gazing, and hiking. I guess that is why I am such a playful mom.

Note to self: PLAY more. PLAY always. It will make you happy.