InLoveBlog

Moon River

Today is my man’s 38th birthday.
I would like to dedicate this song to him.

I see the whole world when I am with you LG.
I am so blessed to be your wife.
You are better than a huckleberry friend.

My favorite place to be with you
is naked under the sheets
when there is a big wide moon outside our window.

{Get over it – it’s my blog – we’ve had 4 kids – we obviously get naked together once in a while.}

My happiness is contingent upon my man’s happiness.
I am so glad that we can work together towards our combined dreams.

For me, birthdays and my obligation to celebrate them
are a great indicator of the most important people in my life.
LeGrand (I call him LG) is at the very top of my list
and from the day I married him his position at the top has never changed.
I’ve added four beautiful girls to the next top slots on the list.
Friends have come and gone on the list, or changed position from Top 10 to bottom 200. Lol

He’s changed. I’ve changed. We’ve changed.
But the love just gets stronger.
It’s beautiful.
Breathtakingly beautiful.

Learn How to Play the Ukelele – Check {vlog}

I love the ukelele. I LOVE it.

I love IZ. I love Ingrid Michaelson. I love Mindy Gledhill. I love anyone and everyone on the ukelele no matter how good or bad they are. Asian, Hispanic, White, or in all the languages of the world, I love it. I grew up among a lot of Polynesians and so I think my love for the uke’s simplistic and tropical sound stems among the great great people surrounding my upbringing.

No these guys aren’t Polynesian, they are my white family. I wish I was Polynesian. In this picture I come pretty close. I am the girl in the Hawaiian style blue shirt on the right.

wills family-001

So, we’ve established that I am in love with the ukelele. I bought one for my husband for our anniversary last year because I figured both of my loves should live in the same space. He hasn’t really picked it up, so I decided that I should.

Here is a video of the progress I have made playing. I am so impressed with myself. Try not to laugh. O.k. go ahead and laugh all you want.

Thank you Ukelele Mike for the wonderful you tube tutorial.

Authenticity

My really cool and really successful social media marketing friend Jeremy Floyd authenticjust got a new job. I was struck while reading his bio at the new job’s website by this line:

Experience has taught Mr. Floyd the importance of the core values of honesty and following through as well as being genuine and authentic in everything that he does.

I found it a little ironic that my favorite social media guru makes authenticity a priority. Not that I don’t believe it’s true because Jeremy is an honest guy, but because I personally believe the prominence of social media is causing a problem of authenticity in our society.  According to a recent news story citing Utah moms with greater depression, authenticity among a well-blogged society is a  real problem.

I struggle with authenticity. It is something I am trying to overcome with this blog. I want to be an honest voice to motherhood. It’s not all marshmellows and lemondrops. In fact at times it’s marshmellows all smashed into your carpet and lemondrops all over your walls. I think a lot of moms feel like they need to put on a show to feel accepted when really we all just need to be real and support one another in the hard moments.

I applaud Utah’s mom of the year having the courage to talk about when she  lost her temper. Authentic is beautiful and way more intriguing than the fake alternative.

Authenticity requires vulnerability and we all need to get better at it. In fact we need to get better at it so we can teach our children to love themselves. Authenticity has to come from a place of love and self acceptance and it requires an environment of love and support. When one person chooses to be an authentic voice then others will feel the safety to follow.

In the spirit of authenticity I will share some of my vulnerable moments in the past week:

  • On Monday at marriage counseling the therapist starting telling me that I needed to get in the middle of the house cleaning spectrum, especially with  my kids. Instead of letting them do whatever and then forcing them to clean.  I hated the whole session and found myself super duper defensive. How dare the lady who changes out her whole families’ towels every two days tell me how to NOT control my kids? Yes, I’m judgmental like that.
  • When Abigail got home from her 4 day long Pioneer Trek yesterday and told me she didn’t have a single spiritual or emotional experience, I had to stop myself from crying because it’s all my fault that the girl has no feelings, and then I immediately deemed it my husband’s fault and the genes from his non-emotional family. Self-protection.
  • While running on the trail last night I asked two women running the opposite direction to tell me their pace. I thought they looked like they didn’t run too slow and didn’t run too fast either. I was hoping they were around my pace so that I could pat myself on the back. Their mile pace was 30 seconds faster than mine. I was happy. Comparison is a problem for me.
  • My husband rarely talks to me about anything fragile or emotional. It gives me anxiety that he is unhappy with me.
  • I cleaned my showers yesterday. Remember that vlog when my sister visited in May? Yeah, that was the last time I cleaned the showers. Every time I do it, I tell myself not to wait as long, but every time it’s an awful task so I put it off as long as possible. Oh excuse me, it was at the end of April. The shame!
  • I felt really really really sad that there were at least 5 anorexic women at the pool on Wednesday. They broke my heart. And then I saw some extremely overweight women and felt sad for them too. I pondered how the skinny ladies in bikinis and the large ladies in their old-fashioned “cover the whole body” suits are both dealing with emotional issues of the same complexity. For a small instant I was proud to be somewhere in the middle of the spectrum and then my baby fat belly roll slipped out from over the top of my bathing suit bottom and I thought I am not so much in the middle as I would like. According to the BMI I am still considered obese. Then, I was mortified for even having the train of thought; I got angry that we are all just victims of an objectifying society and thought of my friends (including myself) who struggle with their weight (losing and gaining) and vowed to never look at a woman in a bathing suit again….I will only be watching their eyes because that is where the true beauty lies and I want to see the beauty instead of the flesh armor of pain.
  • I so wish that I have more than 26 followers on this blog, but all my followers are not my real-life friends and that makes me happy and I have to constantly fight the battle with myself that I am never going to be a famous blogger or author. Indeed I will be very very blessed to actually ever get my dream novel written someday much less published.
  • In the spirit of authenticity I think I am pretty entertaining and that everyone should want to be my friend, but also in the spirit of authenticity I can see why people are afraid of me, I don’t ever pull a punch and I don’t know how to NOT say things that are considered tactless. I really really really want to be a better listener and learn to control my mouth.

I challenge anyone who is reading this to blog, facebook, twitter, instagram something that teaches authenticity to others through your own vulnerability. Tag this post if you want, but just know I will secretly be hoping you all do it because then I will know someone is actually reading this. Just keeping it real. And now I am going to give myself the same very repetitive pep-talk that I need to LET GO of being validated and just be happy with my own authenticity.

I can’t help falling in love with you. [progress report]

I was thinking this morning that it is time for accountability on the blog. Imagine my surprise when I just looked up the dates and discovered that today marks this blog’s four month anniversary. It’s as if my inner blog-clock runs my psyche. When I saw today’s date up next to my first post’s date, both marked with the number 18, I kind of felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. No, not that creepy episode with the talking stalking doll, but the opener when the guy is walking into the black hole. This blog is my alternate universe that I gladly walk towards day in and out.

So, how am I doing with my little experiment of learning to be in love at home, you wonder? Honestly, I am doing so well I could probably just stop blogging about it. (wouldn’t that be funny if I just left this post with that last sentence and never came back? – tempting)

I am happier than I have been in a very long time. Yesterday we all went to the pool and even though it is my general instinct to want my kids to go and play and leave me alone to read my book, I found myself engaging more than ever. I got into the pool and played. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a long ways to go most of the time I was suffering through with the occasional moment of sincere pleasure. I would like to get to the point that I can really live in the moment with my kids and have them be a more enticing focus than any book, but I am making progress and with that I am happy.

While I was emotionally analyzing before writing this update, a song came to mind. It’s in the post title. I think the lyrics say exactly how I feel today: I can’t help falling in love with you. As I have really worked towards shedding my resentment, anger, expectations, pride, and selfishness my progress has happened naturally. By taking myself out of the picture, I’ve noticed the small humans in my home more than ever, and they are wonderful people with whom I can’t help falling in love.

My children aren’t here to sabotage my life, they are here to be my life. It may not be the life that I would choose, but they are the life that God has chosen for me and I am learning to trust that he knows what he is doing. Recognizing that I am happier than ever before makes it easier for me to continue to trust. It feels good to live on trust. While I keep turning to God to overcome my crap, He keeps dishing out happiness, joy, and feelings of love and admiration. It’s a win/win. It’s not a win that I have every moment of every day, but one that I am having more often.

I love Ingrid Michaelson. Hope you enjoy the song. I can’t believe I just posted a cover instead of Elvis.

I am proud of my children. {there, I said it.}

bella-shortstop

All one needs to do is look at my instagram feed to know that I am overly proud of my kids. The other day a friend said that we win as the most photographed family of all time. (proud of it)

As I look over on my feed showing on the right of this blog, 12 of the 20 pictures are of my kids. There is no shame on instagram. That’s probably why I love it so much. (In fact the photo in this post is originally from instagram.)

Even if you find this post a year from now, I can promise that the ratio of  my kid pics to my other pics will be about the same. I may have to quit instagramming all together when they move out, or stalk them like paparazzi. [I like the idea of getting a dark pair of sunglasses and an SUV and following them around the country.] Poor kids. They are going to need therapy.

I am a prideful person. Very prideful. Pride is my Achilles heel. I try to keep it in check, but with my kids it seems impossible. As a religious person I have sought answers as to whether or not I am going to go to hell for the way I feel about my kids.

These two quotes from two of my church leaders have been of infinite assistance.

In terms of your happiness, in terms of the matters that make you proud or sad, nothing—I repeat, nothing—will have so profound an effect on you as the way your children turn out. ~Gordon B. Hinckley

I believe there is a difference between being proud of certain things and being prideful. I am proud of many things. I am proud of my wife. I am proud of our children and grandchildren. ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf

I’ve concluded that if God meant for us to never have pride, he would have never given us children. Pride is a parental privilege. It’s an emotion I plan to keep for eternity.

Let me make this clear. My pride for my children is not wrapped up in what they accomplish. They can end up in jail and I will still be proud of them for they are mine and my love for them is infinite. I think every parent should feel this way. The children that I worry for most are the ones that don’t have a beaming parent watching their every move in utter satisfaction. What a great motivator it is for children to want to make their parents more proud than they are already.

Yesterday during Bella’s last softball game of the year I got to really indulge my pride. The best proud mom moments here are easily detected by the amount of tears shed. Yesterday was an all-time contender. You see, Bella caught her first fly ball. I watched her playing at shortstop with great anxiety. This is her first softball season and being the new girl she has mostly been confined to outfield. Playing shortstop was already a big accomplishment. She had missed her first grounder and so when the fly ball went soaring in her direction so did this mom’s anxiety. I wanted nothing more than her success. I was hyper-focused and I feel like some mom magic must have guided that ball right into her glove. Such keen focus is normally reserved for jedis but once in a while if a kid really needs help moms can tap into the force. (o.k. not really – it was all Bella)

She caught that ball. She CAUGHT the ball. She didn’t drop it. She stood there staring at the ball in her glove while her jaw dropped because of her good fortune. [She didn’t know I had jedi powers.] um I mean – She didn’t believe that all those softball practices would actually do her any good. But, they did. She had made the third out of the inning with two threatening runners on base. The smile that came across her face was priceless as was her attempt at covering it up.

I wanted to scream out for the whole world to hear. “She CAUGHT the ball. Ah huh, ah huh, that’s my girl”, but for Bella’s sake I kept my cool and my decibel range in check and said, “way to go Bella” as the tears streamed down my face profusely. I was so glad I was sitting on the front row of the bleachers. I have never been so happy for anyone in all my life. Truthfully. It’s a moment I will never forget as long as I live. My Bella got a moment to be proud of herself.

As her teammates congratulated her in the dugout, I knew that Bella, my daughter with floundering esteem would never be the same. After that fly ball she knew she could accomplish anything. She had her moment and I was there to share in it. I thanked God for the privilege and for the justification in my pride.

Oh yeah, they lost the game, but who cares, my baby had her moment! And so did her very very proud momma.

Sick of the Slinky Cycle?

In this life, we all have issues/weaknesses/faults that we are forced to tolerate/embrace/overcome. Everyone has something. Even if they don’t want to admit it. Some of us (lucky us) have a lot more than others. It seems like the people I like best are the ones with an in-between amount. They are living in reality enough to fully know themselves and are working at improvement. They aren’t full of themselves and are also not a “hot mess” (is there really such a thing?)…just in between…humble enough for them to relate to me, and honest enough for me to relate to them.

I love the story by one friend about her daughter who was struggling with a lot of physical challenges all at once. As a wise teenager she explained her situation to her mom, “I think when God lined us up, before sending us to earth, He gave us each the opportunity to see examples of trials we may face. I must have raised my hand for ALL of them.”

Here recently Momastery mentioned her progress with depression not being linear but circular. She briefly mentioned her frustration with dealing with the same issues over and over again but that she has resigned herself to progress being slow but circular. When I read her post I was reminded of a theory someone once mentioned at church. I like to call it the slinky theory. Yeah, I’m sophisticated like that.

 

Take your issue in the form of a flat piece of metal. Deal with the issue over and over and over again.You will be dragging that metal in circles and feeling like it is just weighing you down. Your frustrations will be pretty high. “Why am I here again?” you may lament, “I thought I already got over this?” If at that moment you will take the time to look down, you will see that you really aren’t “here” again. In fact the issue has been dealt with time and time again and “here” is actually represented by the cylinders of the slinky below you. You are in a new “here”, a higher “here”.

In that very moment if you really want to frustrate yourself you can look up and realize that, yes, you will  be visiting the problem many many more times. Each future “here” will be represented by the cylinders above you on the same slinky called “menacing issue  -why can’t you just go away”? This may seem awful and hopeless and cruel, but really isn’t each slinky a small little miracle? I mean even the littlest of kids know that slinkies are about the coolest thing ever. And just think: you have multiple ones going on at the same time and they are each crawling UP the stairs without stopping. It’s actually breathtaking!

Some people get the pleasure of reaching the top of their slinky. They get to retire it all together, but I dare say most of us kind of grow accustomed to our slinkies and hold on to them if only for the memories they represent.

I have a whole heck of a lot of slinkies. I am impatient, overeating, controlling, oversharing, codependent, critical, distrusting, loud, and truthfully the list goes on and on and on and on and on and….. I do believe I will stop there because I like to take my slinky building one at a time.  I don’t like allowing myself to dwell and get too hopeless. I like to recognize my progress every time I am “here”. In fact, I believe that the act of recognizing that “here” is actually just a smidgen higher than the former “heres” has the ability to launch me to the next rung on the slinky a lot faster.

When I hear of the hopeless who die from suicide or give in to poverty or stay stuck in obesity or can’t shake an addiction, I relate to them. My heart goes out the them. I am just a fellow slinkier and sometimes slinky making is so painful. I ache for them, but I also ache for me. Going around those cylinders is not easy, but I wonder if anyone ever taught them (like they did for me) that making slinkies is not just acceptable but the whole purpose of this life.

So yeah, I still have forty pounds to lose, but I have also lost forty which by my calculations puts me smack dab in the middle of one of my slinkies. I’m 0nly 39 years old so surely I have at least another 39 to go. I might even get to retire this slinky all together someday,  but I’ve decided to just enjoy the slow climb up the metal slide. On most of my slinkies I should be all the way to heaven by now, but they must have super tiny and tight curls because I’m really still so very close to earth. But it’s o.k. What else would I do if I didn’t have slinky making? Nothing more cool. Slinkies are the coolest.

Sunday = family

Sunday is a slow day for us. We use it to go to church and rest from our labors.
Enjoying one another’s company is what we do most.
Today was an especially great Sunday.
Not only did I get to enjoy a lot of this….

but I also got to enjoy my own six siblings on the same conference call.

They are always a good time.

wills

Heart Opening

“What does it mean to have an open heart?”, I asked my therapist. She answered, “Stay in the moment, and be open to whatever is happening. Be open to what others have to offer. Be open to any and all emotions you may be experiencing. Don’t close yourself off as a coping mechanism to fear.”

“Well, that should be easy.” not  I live in the future. I am always 10 steps ahead. I have to control everything around me because I am desperately afraid of anything that might go wrong and everything that I am convinced will. I am possessed with this idea that if I don’t control the universe, it will control me in a way that I don’t want. It will be painful. The universe is out to get me and the only reason I am still alive is because I have controlled the space around me from the evil forces of the universe. Pretty much I am psychotic. The universe will be the universe, and instead of fighting against it, I am supposed to release myself, tear out my heart, and say, “here you go.” I don’t want to admit that while I have been sheltering my heart so fiercely and nobly I haven’t been really living at all. I’ve been deceiving myself. I don’t control the universe, all I’ve done is hidden myself away from it.

But, there is a lot of good stuff in the universe and I’ve been missing out.

warm shower warm shower 

I rode my bike in the rain this morning for a couple of hours. It’s the middle of the summer in Utah and can you believe that the rain actually got cold? I needed a jacket to keep off the chill. After the first hour I was soaked through and so the jacket didn’t help at all. I felt alive out there in that rain. I felt my heart open to the universe.

When I got home, I hustled about doing the things moms do (cleaning up after my kids) and my wet clothes seemed to permanently duct tape themselves to my skin. After a good 20 minutes (my kids are slobs) I felt frozen so with some vigor I stripped down and jumped my naked body into the warm shower. A warm shower has never felt better in my entire life. As the drops of glowing syrup tumbled their way down my skin my whole body came to life…my heart started pumping. I felt like crying because the kindness of the shower was so luxurious. I never wanted to leave the moment. I was most definitely NOT allowing myself to move ahead into the future. This universe was one I didn’t know existed. It was sympathetic and kind. It wasn’t out to get me at all.

I’ve pondered today about life’s situations and how many of the best moments we get are like warm showers and if it weren’t for the rain we would never appreciate them as deeply.

Babies come after 10 grueling months of pregnancy and hard hard labor.

Companionship after years of being single and/or many broken attempts.

The joy of being physically fit after much sweat and tears.

Wisdom after a lot of effort towards knowledge and its failed application.

Self acceptance only after the realization that denial was never going to work.

Yes, if you want to REALLY appreciate the warm shower, it’s easier if you first spend some time in the rain with your heart wide open.

Be the Rainbow

After recognizing my lonely state a few weeks back I decided I needed to be proactive about connecting with others. I realized I have a tendency to isolate and expect others to befriend me instead of reaching out to them. This may sound untrue to those who don’t me well because I believe “extroverted” would be on the Top 10 words people would use to describe me. Really I am extroverted, but only those who take the time to see past my surface and know me well, know that I tend to shut off the world, sometimes when I need it most.

Every human needs a place where they can honestly assess themselves. This blog is where I am choosing to be honest. I hope you don’t mind. { Time for some lyrics – I hope you don’t mind, I wrote down in words…how wonderful life is when you’re in the world.} Thanks for reading, if you are. Wow, there is power to putting words out there just for yourself. I pretty much don’t think anyone is reading this and I love it that it’s o.k. [I love that I got happy enough with myself to disable comments.]

So, back to working out the loneliness. I reached out. In the past couple of weeks, I did a bunch of out-reach. First, I went over and helped a friend move. I kind of forced myself on her. She didn’t seem to mind. I also continue to take the children of a friend on bed-rest on a weekly adventure to the park and library. Then I went over and helped another friend move. She also didn’t seem to mind. I got really brave and requested from the ladies from church that come on assignment to visit me once a month that we go to lunch. They seemed happy to oblige. I kept looking for ways to reach out and offered to bring another friend’s children home from swim lessons. I was already there and she lives right around the corner so it was nothing really. Another silly little thing: I answered my phone when a friend from high school called and found out that we will be having a great reunion dinner coming up very soon. I can’t wait. (I would normally just ignore something like that. – Should I admit that?) Last, I sent some giftcards via facebook to some family members who weren’t expecting it. Just for fun. Just to get outside myself.

rainbow

Guess what happened? I got immediate and tangible payoffs. Do you want to hear them? Well, you don’t really have a choice because I am telling you…isn’t that the point of this here blog?

I had fun with the first friend moving. She made me laugh. She also helped me to understand that it’s o.k. to not have a spotless house all the time when you are raising a large family. In fact when her kids came over the other day and our house was less than pristine, I was totally able to relax about it. That’s huge.

I had the privilege of being with my friend’s kids the day that their baby brother was born at 28 weeks –  he wasn’t supposed to come that early. I got to see their faces as they saw his first picture posted on facebook. What could possibly be of more value than that?

I got to have a powerful moving experience at the other friend’s moving day about the roles of women and men. I will share more about that in it’s own post in the near future.

I had a great lunch out with two fabulous ladies that are fast becoming some of my greatest friends. I only have one friend that I do lunch with since moving back to Utah, so to add two more feels pretty darn good. Lunch with the ladies is a great source of joy.

My sweet friend for whom I took kids home gave me a gift-card to my favorite restaurant. It was so unnecessary and undeserved but it made me feel loved and it helped me recognize how well this friend knows me and how wonderful it is to have a friend like her.

And last but certainly not least, I got dubbed as the coolest aunt ever for sending a gift-card through facebook. I even got my own post. Kylie is my newest niece (gained my marriage) and she is a gem! Check out the pic.

aunt

The moral of the story: Maya Angelou may have not always been an angel, but she sure knows what she is talking about when it comes to being a rainbow. It is pretty awesome being a rainbow!