InLoveBlog

Lessons from the trail: A Scout Leader

This lesson from the trail occurred a few months back. It was dusk on a perfect-weathered weeknight and I was out biking with my hubby when we crossed a bunch of young men accompanied by their adult church leaders. They were all getting exercise at their own levels of ability. We observed the get-goers first as we were riding in the opposite direction. First was a group of about 10 boys with one pretty fit and younger leader cruising along at an admirable speed. The next four groups were varied in number of boys and accompanied adults but ranged no more than a few minutes behind the front group to trailing maybe five minutes behind. After a few more minutes we then passed the obviously struggling group with some of the younger boys as well as the overweight members of the troop (adults and boys). They were slow, but they were still persisting and seemed to be enjoying themselves and the camaraderie. LG and I discussed our pride and admiration for the whole group (at their varying abilities) as we rode away. We assumed that the last struggling group would be the last but we assumed wrong.

This photo was taken at the Norman Rockwell exhibit at the Church History Museum back in August ’13. No doubt my husband was having a moment of remembrance to when he earned his own Eagle Scout.

After several more minutes we came to a crossroad where the trail-users have to yield to the vehicles using the city road. Because we were stopped waiting on the traffic we were able to observe the very last Scout leader with just a single boy across the street. What I observed touched me deeply.

At every road crossing on each side of the street there are a set of narrow passages through gates that keep large vehicles from using the trail. I personally (as well as most others) pass through these gates with ease. Whether I am running or biking, I don’t have to give the narrow passages a second thought. When LG and I ride together, so that we don’t have to slow down, it is just understood that simultaneously he takes the passes on the left and I on the ones on the right.

This day however LG and I both stood still with our bikes as we watched this most amazingly patient Scout leader treat his troop member with great kindness, respect, and love. We had just passed the rest of the troop so we could tell that this young man wasn’t one of the youngest. He was probably about fourteen and looked like a completely healthy capable kid. Yet, upon careful observation it was obvious that this boy must have had some kind of mental disability. From across the street, we watched this pair slowly approach the gate and even more slowly come to a very careful stop.

With an encouraging smile on his face, the leader stood aside and let the boy struggle through the threatening narrow passage. For some reason the boy’s large motor skills created a mountain out of a molehill and he could not get through the gateway while peddling. He tried. He gave it everything he had, but he eventually dismounted his bike (while somewhat animatedly cursing the dang gate) and walked through awkwardly dragging his bike to his side.We took an extra long drink of our water and moved to the side of the path on our side of the street to stay out of the way. The same exact four minute process happened once again on our side of the street and we had a front seat view of one very determined boy and his ideal Scout leader. Thinking back on this is bringing tears to my eyes once again. It was such an inspiring interaction.

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I couldn’t help but find this event metaphoric in my own life. Don’t we all struggle at times in our lives? Sometime somewhere we may have been or will be at the end of the pack. We may be frustrated with a repeated obstacle. We may be giving it everything we’ve got (in fact giving it more than even the ones at the front of the pack) yet we remain peddling way behind. I’ve been there. I’ve wondered, “Why me? Why does it have to be so hard?”

When I get to my next obstacle I will think of this boy and let his determination and courage be my guiding light.

I will also make a very serious effort to be a leader with kind eyes, a patient demeanor, an encouraging smile, and a love bigger than the universe itself.

If Only Mileva Einstein Could Have Slipped The Genius Some Ritalin #1

My husband has ADHD. It’s true whether or not he feels like admitting it today. After the insistence of our marriage counselor he finally went and got back on drugs. Thank you Joyce! Four days later I can already tell a huge difference in him. The bags under his eyes aren’t as palpable, the deer in the headlights look is completely gone, and I would even argue that he is more emotionally engaged.

I’ve been feeling a little guilty that not only did I not recognize completely how his meds helped him, but that I didn’t insist he stay on them. Back in 2011, after a really bad couple of years in Tennessee, LG and I were grateful for a new start in Utah. With our newly acquired health insurance the first thing LG did was go to a doctor. He was really motivated to be amazing at his new job and he welcomed help from his ADHD prescription. However, over time, he got cocky. He felt like he didn’t need them and didn’t want to deal with the side effects. He also didn’t want to spend the money so he went off of his drugs. Slowly, over time, the old non-functioning LG was beginning to resurface but it was so gradual that I didn’t pin-point it. Once again the marriage counselor came to the rescue.

She had a really frank talk with LG last week. “LeGrand, do you understand how it effects you and everyone around you when you don’t take your ADHD prescription? There is not only a direct correlation but a lot of research to support the fact that your ADHD is feeding your other issues? You need it to be treated and you can’t wait another day.” Then she challenged him to get into the doctor last week, which he did, bringing me to this post.

I’ve been thinking a lot about living with Einstein for the past sixteen years. My husband is genius. I am not kidding. He is one of the smartest people I know. It is not surprising to me one bit to know that Einstein is a poster figure for ADHD. I am married to him. (I also have a daughter who is him in his female reincarnated drop dead gorgeous form.) My husband (and daughter) could not only figure out how far infinity is but once he knows the answer he could also quite simply explain it to anyone else who needs to know. When other people would have lost the patience to teach me after an hour of explanation, my husband always finds another way around explaining it (and another, and another) until I understand. When anyone has a question, it must be answered to everyone’s satisfaction. There is no way around it. Knowledge and wisdom are his guiding light.

My husband would also get to the other end of infinity and realize that he forgot his keys to unlock the door, and the pen and paper to write down the formula, and then he would make a mental note of about 800 things to do when he got back and proceed to forget every single one of them.

In short, it is extremely challenging to be married to someone with ADHD. If you don’t believe me, check out this article about Einsten’s personal life.

Let me help you understand what it is like.

My husband is on his 7th or 8th wedding band since we got married. It was really sad the first time it happened, and the second, and the third, but now I am not even sure if 7 or 8 is an accurate number. We quit counting a long time ago.
My husband struggles with major self-esteem issues because of his ADHD. No matter how much confidence I try to instill in him, years of under-functioning with ADHD have robbed him.
When my husband doesn’t know the answer to something (like fixing anything) he will avoid it indefinitely.
His keys and wallet are in one form or another of lost at all times. (One of LG’s favorite sayings is, it’s only lost if he’s looking for it.)
The man needs constant stimulation. Constant. I am not talking about sex, (although that works) stimulation comes in all forms…reading, texting, gaming, watching TV, fidgeting…doing all of these at the same time.
He literally cannot remember insignificant tasks like taking out the trash, complimenting his wife, planning ahead farther than one day.

The list could go on and on, but honestly all you have to do is read up a little on ADHD to understand the challenges I’ve faced in my marriage. Perhaps one of the hardest parts of loving a person with ADHD is their inability to connect emotionally. Here is a great article that explains how marriage is effected by ADHD. I really get the resentment mentioned about being the spouse who has to do everything. I am sure if you asked Mileva Einstein, her and I would echo succinctly.

As I was just researching for this post, I came across this article with this accompanying picture. I have read a lot about ADHD but this is the first visual that has brought home the reality of ADHD being an inclusive disorder. ADHD takes pieces from the rest of the disorders. For the first time, my husband’s ADHD also explains his tick of constant blinking (that in others would mean Tourette’s), his social anxiety, and some of his OCD tendencies such as never having dirty hands and always wearing socks with shoes.

This post has gotten quite long and so I think it’s time to split it into two. Coming next will be ways that we have successfully navigated through ADHD. The simple answer is we have remained loyal to one another, have sought out professional help, and never stopped loving one another, but stay tuned for some more specific helpers.

Being the Change Sucks Sometimes

be the change So I have this friend. Well, I guess I should say that I HAD this friend as she has told me that we are no longer friends. This friend is the best friend I’ve ever had. She’s a great person. A really great person. She is kind, thoughtful, gentle, hard-working, loving, beautiful in and out, smart, a total clean freak/germaphobe, a great mom, selfless, and easy to get along with. She is extremely spiritually-minded and a great example of faith and Christianity in action. She has been there for me countless times in my life when no one else was.

She also has flaws. I won’t tell you what they all are as it isn’t necessary to the story, but I am intimate with her flaws. “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” is one of her favorite quotes. The ironic thing is that she is sometimes very closed off to change. As long as I’ve known her (which is a long time) she resists change, especially in herself. For a long time I thought she didn’t need to change. I thought she was perfect and that I was the one with problems, but I’ve come to my senses and realized that I was bamboozled into believing this lie.

She needs to change. I need to change. Everyone needs to change.

The hard part about change is that when you do it, it effects other people. That is why marriage counseling is so totally awesome. It helps people change together! Changing together is miraculous. I have seen the most significant changes over the years but none are more important then those that my husband and I have made together.

They need friend counseling. They really do. I am embarking upon the second round of no-contact with this friend in the past ten years. It’s because we don’t know how to change together. It seems we can only change apart from one another. I don’t like it, but it is the reality of our friendship.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about this friendship and how to handle it. It seems I am ill-equipped. This friend is very closed off. She doesn’t like to talk about her problems. She doesn’t like to admit her weaknesses. Sometimes I wonder if she is even aware of them.

On the other hand, I am a very self-aware person. I love to talk about myself. Talking is one of the greatest ways that I learn, second only to writing. I will share anything and everything with pretty much anyone. I struggle to contain private information.

You can see how this creates a problem in our friendship. It pretty much goes like this:

me: “I am so sick of my husband.”
her: “My husband is so fantastic.”

me: “I have been so depressed.”
her: “Let me help you with your depression.”

me: “I am so sick of being poor.”
her: “We just bought a house for $50,000 less than it is worth.”

me: “How are your kids doing?”
her: “They are perfect little angels.” (As they tear each other’s eyes out in the background.)

me: “You are going to be so house poor with that huge house.”
her: “Oh but it’s so worth it.”

her: “I am so glad you guys are happy.”
me: “We are happy.”
her: Whatever she needs to say to make sure I know she is happier.

I just couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t play the game. I knew from past experience that she doesn’t like to be called out. I also know that when I tried to change and quit complaining/over-sharing we ended up with nothing to talk about. You can see if you have two “hers” in the same conversation it won’t get very far. I didn’t know what else to do to fix it for myself. I would be miserable every time I hung up the phone. I quit taking her calls. I quit calling her. We live in different states now but if we still lived in the same state I would have avoided her physically also.

After several months she messaged me and asked me what was up. I replied,

I have avoided you and it really isn’t cool of me but I’ve been felt it necessary for my own well-being. In one simple sentence of explanation: “It’s not you, it’s me.” I’ve missed talking to you too but the peace of mind I’ve gained has outweighed the benefits of broken companionship. I haven’t been able to pinpoint my issues exactly and I haven’t wanted to hurt you so I’ve just avoided it. Not very mature of me but it is what it is. I can’t even give you a complete explanation as, like I said, I haven’t figured it out myself. The best I can give you are two things. 1 – I feel like we have had an unequal friendship. I have shared with you too much and you’ve shared too little. 2 – I have issues with comparison/competitiveness and for some reason you put those into high gear for me and it was causing me a lot of heartache. It has been easier for me to tackle this part of me that I detest by just avoiding you. I didn’t and don’t know how to address this with you and truthfully it’s made me a lot happier to not talk to you as much. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had but our relationship is somewhat toxic for me emotionally (not because of you because of me). I feel like we lack honesty and the kind of intimacy I want from my friends and I don’t think you will be comfortable with the change it would take to make our close friendship healthy for me. I love you______. You are like a sister to me. I’ve missed you and I’ve prayed for you. I am the first to admit that I suck at relationships. I wish I was better at it, but being so far away and because they don’t make friend therapists I think this way is better for now.

letting_go_by_Ursylla

I wasn’t trying to say goodbye, but I did give her the out. I was really saying I need more from you, and if you can’t give it then it’s probably better this way.

I didn’t hear back from her. I then got a message on Facebook from a total stranger telling me that I was an evil person who treated this friend so badly. How dare I hurt her when she has never done anything to hurt me?

I promptly told this extremely codependent random person to mind her own business and immediately texted this friend to let her know I had been reprimanded by so and so (later she told me it was her sister-in-law) and that I was sorry if I hurt her with my reply.

This friend in true to form fashion immediately gave me a lengthy explanation about how she wasn’t really gossiping about me (because she’s perfect, right?) and then informed me that we would probably just be better off without each other. I told her that whatever she wanted as fine. That was it. End of story.

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So for the past couple of weeks I have been pondering on this end of friendship. I can’t help but feel like I am in high-school again. It feels so wrong. I feel like I should try and fix it.

I’ve decided that I did the right thing. I can’t change this friend. I can only change myself. I could try to keep living in her facade but it was just harming me and ultimately it was probably harming her too.

I needed more and she just couldn’t give it. She probably needs something from me that I just can’t give: like acceptance of her unreality for starters.

She’s a good person. I’m a good person. We just aren’t really good for each other and that’s o.k.

I’m moving forward. I believe I’ve been much clearer in stating my needs to her than she has with me. If she ever thinks that she can be what I need, she will know where to find me. I would love to be what she needs if she can start living in reality.

The one thing that I really wish I would have said to her and didn’t though is this reply to her telling me that she can’t just sit around being vulnerable and waiting for me to call her. I wish I would have told her this. Vulnerability is not your strong suit. You haven’t been the least bit vulnerable. Ever. If you ever want to be vulnerable, you know where to find me. I’m right here with my heart always hanging out for all to see.

Change-Quotes-9

I have had to really examine myself if what I am experiencing with this friend is jealousy. It is easy to become jealous when one person is always talking about how wonderful her life is and the other is a total realist. I don’t think that it’s jealousy. It’s just that I feel like I’ve finally grown past being the friend who is the one being helped. A friendship takes two people who are willing to admit that they need help. Maybe she never needs help. Maybe she is perfect? Or not because perfect people only exist in their own world. It is just really psychologically and emotionally trying for a person like me who throws all her flaws out to the world to be real with people who don’t seem to understand.

I Feel Like I’m Rich

This morning after getting Caroline dressed for preschool, like usual, I looked her over and told her how cute she looked. She is cute every day, even when I don’t brush her hair. (Yeah, I admit that there are days I don’t brush her hair – I usually at least just pull it back in a ponytail. Judge only after you have four children.)

Today Caroline was feeling really special as yesterday we got her haircut at the local hair-school for $3.50 and we bought her a new shirt from the Walmart clearance rack for $4. Also, the other day LG had insisted that I buy her a new pair of tennis shoes that were easier for her to put on and take off. We’ve been making do with a pair from the thrift store that weren’t working so well. After brushing her shorter hair and putting it in a headband and sporting her new digs when I told her she looked cute she really believed it. She looked at me with wide eyes and a huge smile and said, “Mom, I feel like I am rich or something.”

Her declaration took me by surprise. We are obviously emphasizing our financial status a little too much around here. I chuckled and thought to myself, “Um yeah kid, you are soooo rich. We spent a whole whopping $17.50 on you all year.” I then thought how much happier I would be if shopping from the clearance rack at Walmart would make me feel as rich as it did for Caroline.

Then as I posed her for a picture the real lesson came in the form of a still small voice. “You are rich Alice. You are so very rich.” Like always the voice was right. Look at this beautiful girl. She’s all mine. She makes me the richest woman in the world.

As I looked around our small apartment at our comfortable couches, artwork on the walls, books on the shelves, and felt the warmth of my very humble American home I felt ashamed for my worldliness. Compared to most of the world, we are rich. We are very rich. We are rich in worldly terms and too often I am too prideful to see it. If worldly stuff mattered I should be grateful for so much abundance, but truly this little girl is way more of a reason for my heart to be full of thanksgiving because she is one of my few eternal treasures that I will be grateful for beyond the confines of this earth.

Really Need to Count Blessings Today

I really need to count blessings today before the misery I am feeling swallows me whole. This will more than likely be the most pathetic counting blessing post ever as I am not feeling grateful. Not one bit.

I am grateful to be alive even if it means that I have to experience negativity and adversity. I am grateful for the privilege of mortality.

I am grateful to have a home, no matter how humble.

I am grateful for my husband who loves me and is willing to go to therapy with me so we can tackle our weaknesses together. I know a lot of other really great men that are too afraid to take a really good look at themselves in the mirror and do their own housecleaning. My husband is my hero for how hard he works at our marriage.

I am grateful to the three friends who showed up to help me clean our old place, one in particular who was red-faced when she got through with two hours of hard-core cleaning. When I did my final wipe down I didn’t have to redo any of her work. She scrubbed my walls with lysol (I don’t know how she got them so clean) and vacuumed with what later I discovered to be a totally full vacuum bag. (I threw that piece of junk vacuum away.) Thank you Lori. Your service meant so very much. And thank you to the other two ladies who didn’t work as long but still showed up to support.

I am grateful to my husband’s brother and sister and their spouses who took a big chunk of their Saturday last week to help us move our furniture. I am grateful to my sister-in-law Jill’s dad for letting us borrow his landscaping truck and trailer when we realized that our van and my brother-in-law’s truck just weren’t going to cut it.

I am grateful to the friend who on FB messaged me and offered up his truck. I haven’t seen this friend in over a decade (we used to work together) and his offering touched my heart so much.

I am grateful to have lived in the ward that we did for the past two and half years. I am grateful for the lessons learned and the friendships forged. I am grateful Chelsea just showed up one day when I was really struggling. I didn’t have to say anything to her, but just her physical presence was a stabilizing force.

I am grateful that I was able to sell enough of our stuff on KSL to cover the expenses that we had no idea how we would cover when we were told we had to move with such little notice. I am grateful that someone bought our piano so we didn’t have to move it.

I am grateful I had a teenage kid in my ward that I could pay to take my old bed to the dump. I am grateful for the years of service that bed provided and for the friends who a long time ago donated it to us. I am grateful to now get to sleep on Abigail’s old bed. It is firm and I don’t sink to the middle every time LG gets in and out. I am also grateful that I get to be back in 600 thread-count Egyptian Cotton sheets.

I am grateful that I left our old home spotless. I am grateful I worked my tail off to leave it better than I found it, even if the landlord e-mailed me to tell me that she may not return our deposit because of the barely noticeable oil stains on the driveway (that I spent weeks scrubbing). I know in my heart that if she keeps our deposit it is really because she wants to use our money towards the driveway replacement that needed to happen years ago. I know that I bore the inconvenience of shoveling that broken down driveway for the past two winters and never complained when the shovel didn’t work over the deteriorated cement.

I am grateful that my van is working even if it spews oil like a broken pipeline. Before we moved it wasn’t running at all and we didn’t know if we would be able to afford to get it fixed, but we did and I am so grateful it wasn’t a really costly repair. I am grateful I have street-side parking at our new place so I don’t have to worry about repeating the oil in the driveway.

I am grateful that our landlord allowed us to just give her two weeks notice on our move and didn’t make us pay rent for the obligatory additional two weeks as our new landlord made us start paying immediately. That two weeks without rent at the old place will make up for the fact that we may not get our deposit back.

I am grateful for my kids and their resilience. Even though Caroline seems to be taking this move really hard I am grateful that she is mine and that we can be there for each other.

I’m grateful that I have internet service even if it means that there is a cable running through an open window because the new landlord is too cheap to pay for a decent solution. I am also grateful that I have running water, even if it comes out of a kitchen sink that whistles like the Titanic. I am grateful to have the shower that has a constant hot water leak that the landlord will probably never fix. I am grateful that he pays the water bill.

I am grateful we own a shovel, so that I can shovel the neighbor’s dog’s poop that is always threatening to be stepped on close to our walkway.

I am grateful that we are only going to have to pay half of the utilities at the new place. We will split the bill 50/50 with the people upstairs and I am grateful that they keep it at a cozy 90 degrees so our easy solution is to just open the windows when we are hot. I am grateful we won’t have to worry about the A/C bill come summer because there is no A/C.

I am grateful to the friends who took me out for my birthday early last week. I was actually able to enjoy myself. I am grateful to the other friend who brought me a present yesterday and a balloon. I haven’t had a balloon on my birthday since high school and having a gift to open made the lack of gifts on my actual birthday not quite as hard to swallow. I am grateful my sister-in-law made me a chocolate cake. I can’t remember the last time I had a real birthday cake.

I am grateful that LG and I were able to have a date on my birthday even if it was just a last minute let’s get out of the house. His best of intentions didn’t pan out but after the last few weeks we’ve had, just getting out with no children was divine.

I am grateful the trail sits solid on the ground every day and waits to greet me so I can breathe deeply, enjoy the sunshine, and find serenity.

I am grateful that Caroline has preschool so that she will have something consistent and familiar among the chaos.

Feel Like I’m Falling

Fall has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. I love the weather, the start of a new school year, football games, the eye-catching colors everywhere, outdoor adventuring, and of course my birthday! I turned 40 yesterday. I feel pretty good for forty. I feel better, happier, healthier, and fuller then I did at 30. I feel self-aware. I love myself. I really do. I think I am blessed to have great self-awareness and am working on giving myself more credit for the good in me while simultaneously tackling the weaknesses that hold me back.

I’m far from perfect. So far from perfect. I still get depressed from time to time. It is nothing like it used to be, but there are still dark periods that I don’t like to experience. I am trying to keep this blog as real as I can, but I am also trying to keep it positive because if I’ve learned anything in my last decade of life it’s that life is what we make of it.

So, I am a bit down today. That’s the real for you. The positive is that I know it won’t last. I will think my way out of this. I have learned not to dwell on the bad and I know that I can’t squash the negative feelings away by not acknowledging them. I have to feel through it and keep the light burning through the dark. I have to allow myself to have crappy moments. I have to give myself the space to mourn for the things that I don’t like, the things that don’t bring me happiness.

I write from my new little writing space in my teeny 3 bedroom 1,000 sq. foot basement apartment. I don’t like our new living arrangements. Not one bit. I am deeply depressed about the fact that I am forty and don’t have the securities that I’ve longed for since I can remember. I don’t like not being able to give my kids more. I don’t like that I can’t get a moment of peace and quiet anywhere. I don’t like that the only time I will see the sun until I move is when I walk out of my home. I don’t like that I have the inconvenience of letting my dog outside at the minimum of four times a day. I don’t like that my four-year-old Caroline cried at bedtime because our new place scares her. She wakes us up all night again because she isn’t at peace. I don’t like that my fourteen-year-old cried because she misses taking the bus with her friends and my ten-year-old and newly turned twelve-year-old have to be driven and picked up from the school they used to be able to walk to and from.

I don’t like goodbyes. Today I said goodbye to many good friends that I’ve had the privilege of sharing lives with for the past two and a half years. When my Bella ran up to give her special church leader a hug today it made every part of me cry. I wish things could be different. I wish things were better. I wish money wasn’t always a constant worry. I wish that I didn’t always feel the tug between being home with my kids where I can nourish and teach and going out and getting a job where I can earn the money that could keep bad things from happening. I wish we didn’t have $800+ a month in student loan payments and I wish my husband earned the salary that all his education should have earned him.

So as you can feel here, tonight I am falling. I am surrendering to the sad because I’ve got to get through this sadness, resentment, and regrets. I can’t just power through. I have to lay my broken pieces down and then pick them back up again and once again move forward.

Tonight I am just pieces of a broken puzzle. I’ve fallen off my wall. In fact I don’t even know where the wall can be found. I’m in a place of total unrest. I’m angry with myself, with my husband, with my God. Why do things have to be so hard? Why can’t I give my kids what they deserve? Why are we always the ones who have to make sacrifices when others just get what they want? What am I missing? What do I still need to change? I’ve worked so hard at living as frugally as possible. I have always paid my 10% tithe. I work hard. I support my husband. I babysit other people’s children so that I can be home with my own and still pay the bills. I try my hardest to listen to God. I pray constantly. I serve other people. Why then is my life so hard? Aren’t I doing the things that are right?

If God tried to wrap his arms around me tonight I would push Him away and that is the truth. Sometimes I just get so mad that He continues to let me suffer. I know, I know, someone is out there screaming at their screen that I am selfish, I am prideful, I am stupid, I am ungrateful. And I am. Maybe tomorrow I will do better. No, not maybe. Tomorrow I will do better. Tomorrow I will continue to forge ahead. Tonight, however, I will cry myself to sleep and that’s o.k.

Love grows best

After lamenting on my last post about my anxiety over moving into a home so small,
on the corresponding FB post a really good friend linked a song that came to her mind.
How I love lyrical therapy! Leave it to Anna to do it just right.
She may be one of the most musically talented friends that I have
and interestingly I have a lot of musical friends.

Yesterday we finished removing all of our possessions from our old place. After working my tail off for a week straight and scrubbing down every surface of 2,400 sq. feet I was relieved to have it over. However as I drove away from our home of two and a half years for the last time I was filled with profound longing to stay.

This morning I had an hour to kill all by myself and I couldn’t make myself want to be in this dreary basement so I took the dog on a walk. It cheered me up to be in the fall crisp air and to soak in the sunshine.

When I finally got home I listened to the Little House song and cried like a baby. I may hate where I live, but it will be a good home if it makes the love in our family grow best. I am looking forward to finally having a night to just sit home and watch a movie as a family. I bet that someday I won’t want to leave here either. (or not)

Relationships

I got up at 7 am and tried all day to blog and between three non-working keys on the laptop (that have fixed themselves miraculously) and the million other interruptions/to-do items, I never even typed in the blog url to get started until ten o’clock tonight. How I’ve needed to write. It’s silly, this love affair I have with writing. It’s as if the blank page is my sanctuary. I fill it up and become the sanctuary for myself.

Firefly Lane is my latest read. My 4-star review can be found over on GoodReads. The book is about two best friends over a thirty year period of time. It was heart wrenching and touching in every single decade. It made me wish for a friendship like that of fictional Kate and Tully. I have great friends but none who know me as well as these two knew one another and none who have been around and close for 30 years. Well, maybe my sisters count. I’ve known them a long time and they are pretty intimate with my insanity.

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As I set down this book upon completion I was overcome with the idea that relationships are all that matter. The only thing I am taking with me when I die is my relationship with God, my relationship with myself, my relationship with my family, and my relationship with my fellow human beings. That’s it.

I can hope that I can take my relationship with paper and a pen but it ain’t gonna happen. Anything I write is stuck in mortality. Hmm. Maybe that’s not actually true. Maybe this explains my love with language. Like Kristin Hannah, I can write something that could inspire someone to have better relationships. If I do, they will take that inspiration with them….take my words with them. Even though that is a total tangent, it’s cool.

It lifted my spirits today to know that material stuff is petty. It’s not necessary for a happy fulfilled life. Sometimes its a hindrance.

So, life has been pretty crappy around here lately. Our landlord decided to sell the house we have been renting for the past two and a half years. We have a home here and love our neighborhood, but now we have been forced to move on. It’s been hard and emotional.

Not only is it hard to leave our beloved home, it’s also hard because LG and I made the decision to be financially responsible and make a significant downgrade. The downgrade is depressing yet necessary so that we can save money to not just get into our own home again but to be financially secure once we get there. We could have borrowed money to buy the house we are in and saved ourselves the hassle of moving, but if and when the furnace went out, we’d be in trouble. We have learned the hard way that we really don’t want to borrow money and we also don’t want to put ourselves in a position to need to be rescued.

So in the next few weeks we will be leaving our four bedroom 2,600 square foot home with a beautiful yard and a heaven-like neighborhood to reside in a 1,400 square foot 3 bedroom basement apartment with ONE bathroom!! It just sucks. There is no other way around it. There is nothing worse than knowing I am a parent who is failing my kids. They aren’t getting the stability we want them to have. They don’t get a lot of what we want them to have. What feels really crappy is knowing if we hadn’t taken our vacation last year to Disneyland, we may have had a different outcome now. If I would have known at the time that I was choosing future stability over one nice vacation for my kids before they fly from the nest, I don’t know what I would have done.

I do know one thing: I’m not taking my place of residence with me when I go, but we will all hopefully take with us the memories that were made. We will even take with us the memories we are going to make while fighting over the one toilet for the next few years. Somehow that makes this broken mom feel o.k. with it all. It also makes me feel better to know that the relationships I’ve forged in our current home are not just gone because I am moving, they will continue with me forever.

A song comes to mind.

You Make Me Smile

It’s been that kind of day. Actually it’s been that kind of week.
I am tempted to say that it has been that kind of life, but that would just be stinkin thinkin.

I just switched over from the laptop as just to be in sync with the universe it has decided to crash every 30 seconds. At least I had enough patience to get this awesome photo uploaded first.

I really really love my husband.

He makes me smile.

When I am having the kind of week when the pressures just keep mounting: I am in the middle of searching for a new place to live that seems impossible to find, dreading the goodbyes with current friends and even the beloved family pet, crying over my phone camera breaking, having a car that repeatedly won’t start, and figuring it all out on a drained savings account (and these weeks seem to happen too often), I can always count on my man to be my calm in the storm. He’s the apple of my eye, the beat in my heart, the light of my life and he always knows how to put a smile on my face.

How could I ever want for more? When I have my perspective right, I let it all go and just watch him sleep. I try not to worry about where I will watch him sleep in the future or the fact that we will both sleep permanently one day. Right now I just let him make me smile and the smile is enough.

CYB – I Never Leave His Hands

My life is so beautiful. I don’t say that to brag or feel better than you but I say it because it is true. God has repeatedly opened my eyes to the beauty of Him, the beauty around me, and the beauty inside me. I bet your life is pretty amazing too whether you realize it or not. It is hard for me to believe that my gratitude can grow more and more every day because sometimes my days are hard, but by practicing gratitude even my bad days seems good. Sometimes I am so filled with love and gratitude that I feel like I could burst, so I usually just bawl for a second or two to get it out.

A friend brought over roast beef, protein shakes, and ovulation kits (which I may be giving back after further consideration.) She couldn’t use any of the three because she is pregnant. Being thought of was wonderful but sharing her joy in her pregnancy was the better part. The time she took to visit meant more than the consumables.

Logan and Jill went to Abigail’s soccer game and my heart was full to know that my daughter has support from an extended family too. They also took the girls for an adventure and they all seemed to have a blast. Visiting with Logan and Jill and our girls while we debated between Harry Potter vs. Percy Jackson was an extremely enjoyable evening that will remain with me forever.

LG and I got to go see Diana Krall as our belated 16th anniversary gift to ourselves. We bought the tickets early in the summer when our savings account was a lot more full. It was such a beautiful concert and an enjoyable evening together. LG had a $10 Red Robin gift-card leftover from his birthday too and so even though our budget barely had the stretching room for the drive to SLC, we were still able to go and enjoy a meal out as part of the evening.

Even though it meant we had to eat more frugally I was finally able to pay down some doctor bills. This year we were put on a high deductible plan that means we pretty much have to pay for all of our medical expenses out of our pocket. It’s been a rough transition but we’ve survived. We may even end the year with every doctor bill paid in full.

The van’s engine light went off again and then came back on. It makes me smile when it is on or when it is off.

I have an opportunity to volunteer with The United Way in their Welcome Baby program. I will get to go and visit new moms and take them a little care package (donated by the community) and discuss important parts of mom and baby health. I’m really excited about this service opportunity. Mothering is a passion.

The neighbor Teresa brought over homemade salsa. It was way better then what I make.

We got to go to General Conference last week. I really love the perks of living in Utah. We also get to go to the temple on a monthly basis. Being so close to church headquarters is a huge blessing in our lives right now.

Abigail is getting straight A’s because she wants to and that makes me feel like we’ve done something really right. She wants to get a college scholarship and she is planning ahead.

LG thought he had a job offer in China but it ended up being a scam. It didn’t work out but it was sure fun for our family to have the excitement for a day. It was kind of a bummer coming down off of it, but I learned a really cool lesson: it’s about family. Our kids were ready to leave all their comforts and take an adventure. They didn’t even bat an eyelash. Abigail’s exact words, “It’s freaking China, mom. Who cares about my clothes, prom, or American boys. Let’s go!”

Jennifer brought over banana bread on a rough day. Sometimes the littlest gestures are a really big deal.

After caring for a friend with a bad back, she gave us a bucket of apples to say thanks. It was unexpected and unnecessary but pretty wonderful…especially since she packaged it up in the cutest ever red bucket.

Everyone is healthy. I take that for granted, but having so many friends pass through trials of sickness and hospitalizations this past month has made me so grateful for our health. I just got done reading Heaven is for Real and reading about Colton’s hospitalization brought back the three awful days of 2005 when 2-year-old Bella was in the hospital with a serious respiratory virus. I was so scared. Not only am I grateful for our health, I am grateful for all the healing we’ve had collectively over the years.

Reading the book also solidified a beautiful message from God about my last miscarriage. The pastor who wrote the book and his wife came to the same conclusion that I have about a miscarried baby. I had a pretty spiritual experience in the temple after mine occurred. A child came to me and told me not to forget him. I originally thought it meant I was supposed to have another baby or adopt some kids, but I am becoming at peace with the fact that maybe I will raise up that child in the millennium. That will be a blessing of no description so why mourn now?

LG gave me a priesthood blessing that said the Lord was pleased with the way I am raising my kids. Is there really anything better that I could ever hear?

A friend going through rough times chose to be grateful and told me I was her inspiration. It made me so happy not to be the inspiration but to see her able to have happiness during tough times.

After running 6 miles in 54 minutes the other days I bawled like a baby for my quarter mile warm down. God does strengthen, enable, and bless us when we seek him. I was so very grateful to Him for my physical strength.

Amy and Tyler had a baby. No really. Amy and Tyler had a baby!! After 15+ years of infertility and unsuccessful In-vitro and 2 cool adopted kids, my brother and sister in law were blessed with a little miracle biological baby girl.

LG and I have never been better, but helping other ladies at church going through hard times has helped me remember how far we’ve come and how grateful I should be to have a husband who didn’t give up, who works hard for our family, and who loves me wholeheartedly.

I had a profound feeling of love contentment and joy walking with Caroline along the sidewalks of SLC while people lined the streets singing hymns. I felt the spirit of the Lord testifying to me that He is in charge of the whole earth.

I know he watches over me. Which brings me to a song….