The Announcement I Never Thought I'd Make Again

I don't really know where to begin.  This is the announcement I never thought I would get to make again:  I'm pregnant!

The month before this happened, my cycle was longer than normal.  (Longer than MY normal, which is already longer than normal.)  I felt yucky, but I have learned to ignore that.  I have a tumor in my pituitary gland which causes my cycles to be messed up and makes it difficult for me to get pregnant.  I've gotten used to the idea that the longer my cycle goes, the more I start feeling sick.  It has changed my perspective on life because I get into those days where I wait for my period to begin with anticipation.  (Yeah, imagine anticipating THAT.)  Usually I'll wait it out.  Sometimes, though, I start to convince myself that I might actually be pregnant.  That is sheer torture.  I don't want to get my hopes up because the reality is that I never am. But I don't want to convince myself that I don't really want to be pregnant because, well, what if?  When my head gets to that point, I just use a test from the dollar store and confirm the negative.  In the beginning, before I had the tumor diagnosed and really understood how messed up my hormones are, I took as many as five tests and still wouldn't believe the results.  All the symptoms would be there.  I'd convince myself that perhaps I tested too early, so I'd try again a few days later.  Again, and again and again.  But after years of this juggle I've learned to trust the negative.  No matter how I feel or what my symptoms, the negative test is always right.

And that's what happened last month.  I took a test, it was negative, and a few days later my body got with the program and we started a new cycle.

One afternoon, a few weeks later, I was out for a walk with my boys along the Jordan River Parkway Trail.  They were on their scooters and I was trying to keep up.  I got insanely sick and had to sit down on the trail.  For several minutes I thought I was going to lose everything.  I started dry heaving into the bushes off the side of the trail.  But the problem with that was that I had nothing to lose.  I had eaten very little that day and though I was astonished that a simple walk could make me so incredibly ill simply due to lack of food, it was obvious that I needed to be careful about eating better if I was going to be out walking.  I had gotten so sick that I called the boys back, sent them in the direction of the park, and continued to sit/crawl along the trail for a few moments.  Andrew was just getting off of work and I almost started to cry when he called.  I told him how sick I was and we decided that he would pick up some take out on his way home and just meet me right there in the park - I wouldn't even try to get the boys home by myself.  I finally made it back to a bench near the slides and waited for him to arrive.  Wow.  Lesson learned:  don't go for a walk without eating well first.

When I graduated, I was ready to tackle the house and get things in order.  I was surprised at how little I seemed to be able to accomplish when the time came.  I was worn out and just couldn't seem to get myself going.  I had volunteered to do a lot of extra things at the boys school, so I was a different kind of busy, but I still had envisioned myself getting more done than I was doing.  Ultimately I just did what I could, and slowly I at least felt like I was making a dent in some of my cleaning projects.

One night, soon after that, I had a really vivid dream.  I saved a baby and I just remember holding her in my arms and somehow, by saving her, she became mine.  It was a tangibly sweet feeling and I woke up with the sensations still in my heart.  The very next night I had another dream about saving a baby and having that baby be mine.  "How funny," I thought.  "Vivid dreams can occur during pregnancy."  And then I moved on because I am never pregnant.

A few days later I had this sudden sensation that someone was missing from our family.  It caught me by surprise and almost took my breath away.  I had heard of people who have experienced feeling that way, but I never had before.  I wondered if it was an impression of a more spiritual nature, but told myself that it was probably just a response to those dreams and I shrugged the thought away.

I started feeling really queasy, but by this time I was REALLY overdue for my period to start.  I knew that the illness I felt was definitely hormonal and I was just really really ready for that period to come so I could feel better again.  "This darn tumor," I complained to myself.

Then Peter threw up.  "Oh,"  I thought, "Maybe I have the flu and I'm actually sick?"  His bug ran it's course in about 24 hours.  The night he was feeling better, I started feeling worse.  I stayed home from church and we skipped a friends baptism because we didn't want to spread the germs.  But then I continued to feel worse and worse.

The week before I got really nauseous, Andy would come home from work every evening and give me a concerned look.  "Are you OK?" he would ask.  I would shrug and with a confused look I'd tell him, "I'm fine - just a little bit tired, I guess."  He would look at me questioningly, but accept my response.

Finally I started to put it all together.  The fatigue, the illness, the breast tenderness, the cravings (I suddenly wanted hamburgers and eggs) and the food aversions (I got to the point where I couldn't look at dirty dishes in my kitchen without turning green and though I went through an unusual phase of wanting burgers, the idea of meatballs or anything with ground beef is now revolting to me).  So like I said - I finally put it all together:  it's the tumor.  I need to go back to the doctor and start medicating this thing.

I mentioned to my mom how sick I had been.  She hopefully said, "Maybe you're pregnant!"  I just looked at her and explained, "Mom, I have learned to not even wonder about that - for me, pregnancy symptoms just means my hormones are messed up because of the tumor."

But I did wonder.  I wondered a lot.  Because in all my years of false pregnancy symptoms, there had never been so many and they had never been so extreme.

Still, I couldn't believe it.

The next morning I was making breakfast for the kids, and I was so overcome with a wave of nausea that I had to drop to the floor right then and there and just wait it out.  It passed, we went on with our morning - got Ammon to school and Peter and I went for a walk around Day Break Lake with my sister and my mom.

Watching my "baby" play at the park with no idea that in less than an hour I would learn a NEW baby would be joining our family.

After our walk, my sister took Peter home with her and I found myself driving alone, knowing that the dollar store was minutes from my house and that I had to go to the bathroom anyway.  The timing was perfect.

I grabbed a test and asked myself, "If I am pregnant, am I really ready to know?"  And I shrugged the question away because it is always negative, and I just needed to have evidence of that so I didn't get all worked up over the possibilities.

I got home and without even thinking about it, I took the test.  Before I could even really realize what I had done, the test was lighting up with the most obvious positive I have ever had.  Wow - as much as I "knew", I really didn't see that coming!

I knew I wouldn't be able to reach Andy right away, so with my hands shaking I called my sister.  She answered and I just blurted out, "I'm pregnant!"

Then we both just went crazy with shock, disbelief and excitement.  She asked me when the baby was due and I had no idea.  On the way home from the dollar store I had actually wondered about that.  In years past, I would have known exactly what the possible due date would have been.  I didn't even have a rough estimate.  She pulled out her computer and looked it up.  WORST due date ever.  This baby is on the exact same timeline as Ammon was.  We are most likely looking at a baby between Christmas and New Years.  (We already have four birthdays in our extended family in that week and it is a terrible time of year to have a birthday.)

But lousy birthday or not - we are having a baby!  It is an unbelievable shock, puts us headed in a completely different direction than we were expecting, and as I tell this story, I couldn't feel more blessed.  What a crazy and unexpected miracle!

Comics

I recently found this silly little Facebook app that lets you make an avatar of yourself and design silly little comics with it.  I had fun playing around with it and thought I was pretty clever when I came up with Andrew wearing a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses.  Anyone who knows him for two minutes knows that he is OBSESSED with Oakley sunglasses.  Ray Ban is, by default, the hated nemesis.

I just thought this was a little light-hearted humor but Andrew was MORTIFIED to be plastered all over Facebook in something other than Oakley's.  He came home from work determined to get me back.  And as I heard him muttering about his plans, I realized just how serious he is about his sunglasses!  Revenge was on his mind.

I was surprised when I would occasionally glance over to his computer screen to see a scene of him handing me flowers, or something else equally romantic intertwined with times of seeing more unsettling backdrops.  As the evening wore on his need for revenge wore off and he eventually finished his design.

Andrew and I spent our dating days taking an Astronomy class together.  I needed a Physics credit to finish off my associates degree and I asked him if he would pick a science class we could take together.  He deliberately avoided his physics class his first semester in college to wait until I returned home from my mission and take a class with me during the spring semester.  We were engaged in June and we spent that summer sitting out on the deck, watching stars (and planes which sometimes got confused with stars...)

The more I look at these cheesy little comic, the more I am touched not only by what it says on the surface, but by the rich history of our courtship that it takes me back to.  Twelve years later, he is still looking forward to those simple moments under the stars with me.  I really want to print this out and frame it.  The more I look at this dumb little picture, the more my heart is ready to burst with gratitude for my perfect match.  He is amazing!  I feel so lucky in love!

Paradigm Shift

The other night I couldn't sleep.  We had been out to a movie, enjoyed great company, picked the boys up from playing with their cousins LATE into the night, and I was exhausted and ready for bed.  But somehow, my day didn't feel done, and I spent an hour restlessly tossing and turning before finally getting back up.

I like to sit at my computer and play dumb games like Solitaire.  I have always been a huge Solitaire player - even before it became popularized by computer versions.  To justify this incredible waste of time, I like to go to lds.org and listen to General Conference talks.  This was my intent, but as I pulled it up, I noticed that the front page featured a recent CES devotional by Elder Bednar.  I used to love attending these back when I was a young single adult, but I haven't made a practice of listening to the messages since that time.  I decided to give it a try, and I am so glad I did!

The message was called "That we might not... shrink."  It seemed a strange title to me, but I clicked the button anyway, and started my game.

Elder Bednar started talking about Elder Maxwell.  He gave a brief background of who Elder Maxwell is.  (Am I really so old that there are now young single adults who don't KNOW Elder Maxwell?)  He spoke of an opportunity he had to ask Elder Maxwell what he had learned through his battle with cancer.  Elder Maxwell responded, "Dave, I have learned that it is better to not shrink than to survive."

I still didn't really get it.  But Elder Bednar went on to explain.  He spoke of visiting a young couple in the hospital.  The husband had been diagnosed with cancer just three weeks after they were married.  The prognosis was not good.  After a brief visit, this young husband asked Elder Bednar for a blessing.  Elder Bednar said he was happy to serve in that way, but was surprised when he was prompted to first ask questions.

"Do you have the faith to NOT be healed."

You may already be familiar with the talks But if Not and Come What May and Love It.  The message is similar.  Somehow this presentation, though, helped me make a stronger connection to the doctrine of the atonement and the strength of faith in applying this principle.

The talk was beautifully presented and seemed very pertinent to me right now.

For the past year I have said that I had the faith to NOT get into graduate school.  But I really felt like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing in pursuing this path, and the rejection has stung.  Still, my first thought upon learning that I wasn't accepted was to turn to this little video message:

Despite an initial acceptance of missing out on this path, I soon allowed myself to get lost in the discouragement   After a week or two of wallowing in distress, I began to feel a bit better.  I'm afraid to admit that a good portion of that mental improvement is conditioned on some exciting potentials my husband is experiencing at his work.

I needed the reminder of the lesson I feel that I have already learned a million times over in my short life.  "But if not," and "come what may and love it" weren't strong enough.  I needed to be instructed to "not shrink".

When I was twelve years old, my seven year old cousin was hit by a car while riding his bike.  As an extended family, we decided to fast for him.  Fasting is always a sacrifice, especially when you are twelve, but it seemed easy enough when put into perspective of what it was for.  We would skip breakfast and lunch, go to church, and then eat dinner shortly after getting home.  This was manageable.

I arrived at my Young Women's meeting - the last hour of the church schedule, to learn that for the first and only time in my entire Young Women's experience, we were going to leave the church building for an object lesson at our leaders home.  The object lesson was a beautiful gourmet breakfast like nothing I had ever before seen.  In my memory, I view it the same way as the feast was described in The Little Princess.

Suddenly this manageable sacrifice seemed very impossible.  I had decided to fast before I knew all the facts.  Had I known this breakfast was going to happen, I would have planned to fast on another day.  My fast was just a few short hours from being over.  Surely it would be OK to end it early considering the unexpected change in circumstances...

As I considered these thoughts, I somehow had a greater resolve to stick with my commitment.  I stayed true to my fast until we came together as a family to end it.

This is where the story gets interesting to me.  Just a few days later, my Aunt decided that it was time to take her son off of life support.  There was no chance for recovery.  My cousin died.

I have always wondered how my life might have changed if I had broken my fast.  I think I would have always carried the silent guilt of "knowing" that I was the reason our faith wasn't enough.  Instead, I always carried the secret confidence that I demonstrated greater faith and obedience to the law of the fast than I realized was in me, and that because of that, I was confident that the Lord's will had prevailed.  What could have been a terribly upsetting and disillusioning experience, became a great teaching moment in my life.

I look back on these past few years and wonder what it was all for.  Why did I choose the classes I chose and take the path that I did?  Logically, there are things that could have been done differently that may have made the critical difference.  There is the temptation to second guess myself.  But I was there, through those years, and I know how diligently I sought the will of the Lord each and every semester.  I know how earnestly I pleaded to know His plan and then, upon receiving answers,  went to work to try to follow it.  Obedience is the key to accepting the possibility that you may "not survive".  Through faith in the atonement and obedience to whatever direction I receive from the Lord, I know that to "not shrink" is the greatest path of all.

In life there is knowing, and there is doing.  I think I know.  And I even have some experience in the doing.  But every test is different somehow, even when it seems so familiar.  Wish me luck as I continue to try to "do".

The Clouds are Breaking and the Sun is Shining

Yesterday I woke up and felt as if the cloud had lifted.  I am happy to report that today continues to be filled with optimism.

This next week is my Spring Break and I am so excited for a mini vacation from classes.  I have been concerned with how increasingly burned out I have gotten with school.  Before this semester began I was scared and overwhelmed with the thought of graduate school.  It seemed like a big and daunting goal, and the schedule sounded exhausting.  Trying to figure out how to balance it with a family was something I really couldn't even face.  As this semester trudged forward, I became even more intimidated at the prospect.  I was getting major senior-itis, and was increasingly concerned about my stamina in jumping straight into another 5+ semesters.  I have been doing school for a LONG time.  I am pretty darn sick of it.  So while the rejection completely sucked, and my wind was punched out even harder when learning why I didn't get accepted, the relief at not having school next year is so completely genuine.

But then came a new anxiety.  Another issue that we have been facing is our own personal fiscal cliff.  For months we have seen it approaching and have panicked and prayed about what to do.  We have spent time in the temple, we have fasted, we have pondered.  With me feeling like school was my path, we had the idea of school loans in the back of our mind even though we were hoping for another solution.  When I didn't get into school, I had to wonder if that was an answer to our financial concerns.  It meant I could get a job.  And suddenly there was a whole new stress and anxiety as my life seemed to be forcing me in a direction that I wasn't completely sure I wanted to go.

After a lot of thought and prayer, Andrew and I have decided to make whatever sacrifices are necessary to put off me working until next fall.  It might mean he needs to take on a second job.  It might mean that we continue to wrack up debt over the summer months.  Heck, it might mean both.  But I have been so much more at peace since we have made this decision.  Once school starts for the boys next fall, it will be much easier for me to feel like they are getting the parenting they deserve AND I am simultaneously making the financial contribution our family needs.  And who knows, by then maybe our income will have changed and our situation won't be quite so desperate.

The other day as we were facing different choices, Andrew very genuinely said, "I don't know where I would be without my mom."  He has been taking it really personally that I have felt the need to work.  It is heartbreaking to  him.  I was really touched to see this extend beyond macho pride and be more about his desire to not only provide for his family financially, but his strong belief that my role in the home can make such a pivotal difference in the lives of our children.  Andrew has always been a big supporter of me doing whatever it is I want to do.  And when I say he is supportive, I mean that he puts his money where his mouth is.  He has spent countless hours single parenting our children - taking care of laundry, dishes and meals.  He has cleaned the house, done the vacuuming, ran the errands, and helped me with my assignments.  He has also always trusted me to find the right balance between family and personal goals.  He feels so discouraged that we both want me to be able to stay home and that neither of us really feel like I can in our current situation.  But like I said - we will postpone that reality for a few more months regardless of what it takes.  I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to a fun summer with my kids!

Not getting into graduate school has been heartbreaking.  I am starting to remember, though, that my worth as a person is based on more than my educational success.  As I earnestly strive to do what is right, the knowledge has been reaffirmed that Heavenly Father is over all, and He WILL take care of us.  I cannot even begin to express the number of times He has already proven that to me  as an individual and to us as a family.  We have been blessed beyond comprehension so many times before, and I am certain those blessings will continue to be showered on us.  Heavenly Father is loving and generous and I trust Him.

Life is good.

Lost

I am getting more and more certain that I have to walk away from an amazing (potential) opportunity.  It is seriously killing me!

I applied and was interviewed for a job that I think I would LOVE.  The company is called The Brain Balance Center, and they work with people who have ADHD, Autism, and other neurological disorders.  While the science behind it is unsubstantiated in terms of formal research, I find the approach compelling and would love to learn more about it on the front lines.

When I heard that they were coming to South Jordan to open a new center, I was excited.  When I learned that they were hiring for a director, my mind started spinning a mile a minute.  I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to be involved in the integration of this company into my community.  I feel like I have the skills and abilities to join with the franchise owner and really make it a success.  

But I also know it would take over my life.

I would be working 45-50 hours a week, and most of those hours would be after my kids are home from school.  It would be the never-ending job.  I would not be able to be the kind of mom I want to be if I wanted to run the center even half of how I was hired to run it, much less how I would WANT to run it.

Arg.  I can't tell you how distressed I am right now to have to choose between the perfect dream job in my most ideal niche of psychology versus my truest dream of raising my kids.  The timing of this decision only exasperates my misery as I am reeling from feelings of failure and discouragement.  How awesome would it be to pick myself up after being rejected from graduate school and turn around to become a DIRECTOR at this awesome clinic.  The title alone is awesome, much less the financial contribution I could make to my family, and the personal fulfillment of the work.

But I just can't.  I am sick to death over it, but rather than being excited about the prospect of this AMAZING job opportunity, I am increasingly  miserable when I consider it.

And lost.

I am just not sure where to go, or what to do next and I feel SO very discouraged and lost.

Rejection Yields Depression

A week ago, out of the blue, I received an e-mail I was not expecting.  The decision had been made on my graduate school application and it was ready to review.  I had been told that a first wave of acceptance letters were sent out in February, and I knew this must be it.  I took a deep breath wondering what I was really getting myself into.  I was amazed and scared at the undertaking - at finally having to face the reality of going to graduate school.  It was a prospect that had scared and overwhelmed me on so many levels.  And here it was, becoming a reality on a regular Monday morning with Peter fighting for my attention as I tried to pull up the website.  And in the midst of all of these overwhelming thoughts and swatting Peter away from the computer screen, I read those telling words, "We regret to inform you."

A part of me was stunned.  A part of me wants to think I knew.  The relief I had always said would come upon getting denied was there even more than I had predicted.  And the heartache at losing a dream hit harder than I was prepared for.  I cried a lot that day.  In fact, the next day Peter noticed that my nose was peeling from having spent so much time blowing it the day before.

The second day I was fine.  Until that evening.  But, as the song says, "the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder.  As they tear your hope apart - as they turn your dream to shame."  I was once again swallowed up in that devastation of loss.  I looked out the window and saw the beautiful moonlight and it somehow soothed my aching soul.

The timing of my rejection had been interesting.  The day before had brought an awareness of a company moving to South Jordan.  I had thought about how fun it would be to work there, but immediately dismissed the thought, thinking it would be impossible with school.  Monday night I asked about employment opportunities and was encouraged to apply.  By Thursday I had an interview scheduled.  It almost seems meant to be.

I had the interview today, and I am more depressed than ever.

The job has the potential of being a dream job to me.  Except for one thing:  I have a life.  They are looking for someone who can work 45-50 hours - and a lot of them in the evening.  Ugh.  It is a job I think I *could* love.  But it doesn't seem like the right time in my life to take it on.  (Which isn't even an option right now, as I haven't been offered the job.  I just can't even decide if I really want it.)  I feel like this job would take me away from my family so much more than I am ready for.  One of the biggest consolations of not getting into graduate school is the freedom of being able to focus more on my kids.  This job would completely reverse that perk.

Andrew is bummed out that we both feel that I *need* to work.  He has always been supportive of me pursuing whatever career goals I did or didn't have.  He wants me to do whatever I want to do.  But he hates that our current situation pretty much obligates me to work.

I am discouraged.  I spent years trying so hard to find the right path.  I *finally* felt like I knew what I was supposed to do.  For the entire process I knew that it was more likely I would be rejected than be accepted.  I was prepared for that.  I thought I had a backup.  "Get a job."

But needing to get a job just puts me back on that road of, "I don't know where I'm going or how to get there."  I am in the dark once again, only able to take one step at a time.

I have felt comforted this past week as I reviewed the path I have been on.  I have been confident that I did everything the way I should.  I felt comfortable that the outcome was not something I should have controlled differently.  There has been peace in that.

But today I just feel like a failure.

I am sad.  I am overwhelmed.  I don't know where to go or what to do.  I am not excited about any prospects.  The fact that I have a dream job dangling in front of me is just all the more a mockery that it isn't *actually* what I want.  What I want - and have always wanted - is to be at home raising a family.  I tried to juggle it with school as long as I could.  That seemed a legitimate justification to avoid becoming a "working mom".  But my excuses have run out, and we need more money.  Reality has hit, and I need to figure out where to go from here.  Time to learn a new juggling act as I balance the need for income, the fulfillment of work, and the schedule of family.  I know things will work out.  But right now I am waiting for my friends Ben and Jerry to come console me.

Little Things

Yesterday I went up to the U to take a test.  Due to traffic congestion caused by an accident, I decided to take some back roads on my way home.  It helped that we used to live up there and I knew my way around.  I found myself passing landmarks that took me back to a time that Andrew and I had walked that road together.  The housing association had offered free babysitting and we were fortunate to get on the list before it filled up.  We dropped our kids off and decided to walk three miles to Red Mango for our date.  It was such a fun evening.  If I remember correctly, it was early fall.  The rain started to drizzle on us, but we had a great time together.  The memory was precious and I was filled with a quiet joy as I continued my drive home.

This morning I stayed snuggled in my bed for as long as I wanted.  Andrew had long since gotten up and headed in to work.  But before I left, he said a prayer with me and made sure I had an extra blanket or two. It's always harder to stay warm once he is up and out of bed.  The house was quiet and peaceful.  Andrew had taken care to buy blueberry bagels for the boys.  They were a "special treat" for Saturday breakfast.  Yesterday I heard Andrew show the bagels to each of the boys and explain, "These are for you to eat so that you can be quiet in the morning and let Mom sleep as long as she wants."  It worked!  Even while he was gone to work, he was taking care of me.  I feel so spoiled!

I walked into the kitchen and thought back to yesterday.  He and Peter had gotten up before Ammon and me and gone to the store.  They came back equipped with all the ingredients to make a delicious breakfast.  As we ate Andrew told me, "The strawberries and cream cheese in the fridge are for Sunday, so don't use them."  As a Valentine gift to me he had learned how to make crepes  - and he is already planning to do it again.

I pulled out my magic bullet to blend up a smoothie for breakfast.  My bullet had been leaking for a month or so and it just hadn't been as much fun to use anymore.  Yesterday, while I was taking my test, he had loaded up all the pieces (there are tons) and took the bullet back to Cost Co to exchange it for me.  Then, he took the boys out to a movie.

When he came home, we spent the evening working in the kitchen together.  He grilled up burgers outside and then transferred them to his indoor griddle where they became patty melts.  While he was doing that, I had fun chopping up Oreos in my new Bullet and mixing up an extravagant pudding mixture for the dessert Peter had requested - dirt.

After our family ate, Andrew started loading the dishes into the dishwasher.  He explained, "I haven't done a lot of dishes since we've been married, and I decided it's about time I started helping with these."  (As if his cooking two of the meals hadn't been enough of a contribution...)

Last month, with Valentine's Day quickly approaching, I realized that every day feels like Valentine's Day.  I look back on these past two days and realize why.  I have a husband who spends his days striving to care for me and pamper me in small and simple ways.  It is just a part of who he is and how he treats me.  For him, it is routine.

After eleven years of being married, I am filled with awe that I can drive around town or even just look around my house and be overwhelmed with reminders of his love for me.  Sometimes he feels bad that we haven't been able to do the bigger things in life - you know - the ones that cost lots of money.  But I am so very happy and spoiled by all the little things.  I wouldn't give this up for all the money in the world.

A Change of Heart

I was visiting with the Stake President as a part of the process of preparing to leave on a mission.  After going through some of the formalities of looking over paperwork etc, he used the time to offer some council and advice.

The first thing he told me was to attend the temple as often as possible between the time I received my call and the time I left.  It was a marvelous suggestion, and I'm glad to say that following his council on that had a very positive and lifelong impact on me.

The second thing he did was confirm my commitment.  He explained that he had been sending out a lot of sister missionaries who had been coming home early.  With the sisters not having the same expectation of service, they were eager to go, but quick to come home when it wasn't as fun as they had expected.  He said that before he signed the papers approving me to go, he wanted to make sure I was really going to stick with it to the end.  I eagerly said that I would and didn't think much more about it.

Three months later my whole world had changed.  I remember lying in my bed one evening realizing that I just really didn't like missionary work.  Texas was hot and humid.  The days were long and exhausting.  My regular routine consisted of knocking on the doors of strangers to try to have a conversation that they weren't necessarily interested in having.  In short, I was miserable.

In that moment I remembered the promise I had made to President Blair.  I really wonder if I would have gone home had he not taken the initiative to have that conversation with me.  But I had promised him, so another solution had to be discovered.

I found myself on my knees, pouring out my heart to the Lord.  I explained how miserable I was - how much I didn't want to participate in the daily activities that were expected of me.  I talked about how uncomfortable I was - literally sick to my stomach with apprehension.  I even whined a little bit, feeling sorry for myself for getting trapped into this life that I had chosen and volunteered for.

I prayed for a miracle.

It seemed that a change in circumstance was what I needed.  I just didn't know how to accomplish that change.  Maybe my promise didn't matter and I really did just need to go home.  Perhaps a new area would have improved things for me.  I didn't really know what the answer was, but I trusted that Heavenly Father could alter my life in whatever major way was required.

And he did.

He changed my heart.

The next day I found that I was less miserable.  I took inventory of what was different.  I realized that nothing had changed.  The daily responsibilities were the same.  The weather and climate were the same.  The endless doors and talking to strangers was still part of our schedule.  But somehow, I had been blessed with a little more courage and a lot more joy in what I was doing.

Sometimes the biggest miracles are really so small.

I reflect on this experience when the routines of life get overwhelming.  It is so easy to say, "But I don't want to do the dishes anymore.  I don't want to make the dinner.  I don't want to do the homework.  I don't want to fulfill my calling."  I sometimes think, "But I'm tired.  I want to do something fun.  I am not smart enough or disciplined enough and able enough."  And then I remember - He can make it fun.  He can make it worthwhile, and He can bring the joy in even the most miserable and mundane task.

So often, I have learned, it isn't my circumstance that needs to change, but my heart.

Seeking Revelation

Missionary Flashback

Missionary Training Center August 1999

When I first began to consider going on a mission, I received excellent advice from a very good friend of mine.  He and I (and since I am sitting in the backseat of his car in this memory, I assume his fiance Jennifer was also with us) were driving home from church in the singles ward.  We were discussing the possibility of me serving a mission and he reminded me that a mission is not a responsibility for the women in the church.  President Monson recently gave us the same reminder when he said, "Many young women also serve, but they are not under the same mandate to serve as are the young men. We assure the young sisters of the Church, however, that they make a valuable contribution as missionaries, and we welcome their service." Tim explained that missionary work is hard and exhausting work.  Basically, he told me that if I want to go on a mission, I need to KNOW that it is where I should be because without that confidence, my motivation would fail.

That advice began a serious journey of striving to seek revelation.  It went on week after week after week.  I prayed and fasted and studied and pondered.

But no answer came.

I waited and worked, trying to decide what I should do, but still all was silent.  I took Tim's council seriously and knew that I couldn't go unless I really really knew that it was what Heavenly Father wanted me to do.

This was a marvelous time of learning for me as I had to exercise faith, trust and patience - endlessly waiting for my answer.  But it still didn't come.

Finally, I gave up.

I decided not to go and I went to my knees in prayer to report my decision to Heavenly Father.  "I have tried," I explained, "to receive affirmation that I should go...  but that confirmation hasn't come in all of this time, so I believe that my answer is to NOT go.  I have chosen to not serve a mission."

And then the answer came.

The moment I expressed my decision to not go, I felt like a light was tangibly going off.  Though there was nothing visible in this experience, a darkness suddenly filled my life in a way I had never previously experienced.  I continued on in my prayer.

"This feels wrong.  Now I know.  I will serve a mission."

And as suddenly as the darkness had come, it was immediately gone again, replaced by a light brighter than had previously been there.  I never questioned my decision to serve a mission from that moment forward.

Love

Love has been in the air and its given me reason to pause.

I feel surrounded by so many forms of love.

It is a blessing.

Heavenly Father loves me.

He loves you.

How often do we take the time to consider that.

To feel it.

To know it to the core.

When I was a teenager I remember being desperate for romance.

To me, that was the only love that acknowledged me as an individual.

My parents loved me, yes.

And they loved their five other children.

It didn't make me feel special.

Heavenly Father loved me.

It was true.

But He loves EVERYONE.

In the whole world.

Across the ages.

I felt kind of lost in that.

I had friends who loved me.

But our group of friends was large and vast.

Again, I just didn't feel like I was particularly special.

Despite love being all around me, I felt alone.

Fortunately, my understanding has matured.

And my experience with love has increased over the years.

Perhaps the best way to understand and receive love is to feel and give it.

Because I have two amazing children,

I now understand that the love of a parent isn't generic at all.

I adore my precious boys with such intensity!

I see their traits, their personalities, their flaws and their potentials.

They bring joy, happiness and so much love into my life.

Years of experience has also strengthened my knowledge of Heavenly Father's love.

I have learned that he knows me as an individual.

He whispers guidance, comfort, peace and direction.

No one understands me more intimately than my Father in Heaven and my Savior.

Their love fills me.

I find that in being filled with their love, I feel a greater love for others.

I want to share the joy that is in me.

As a child I felt that I had to have a corner on the market of love for it to be valuable.

What a foolish way of thinking.

Love just doesn't work like that.

For Valentine's Day I decided I wanted to teach my children to serve.

I wanted to give them an opportunity to experience love.

We decided to be mindful of the single sisters in our ward - the widows and those who have never married.

We wanted them to know that they were not forgotten.

My Valentine's Day was wonderful this year.

There were so many things that made it good - that made my heart swell.

Watching my boys deliver these valentines was one of those priceless memories from that day.

They had a bit of a learning curve.

At the first house the sister told them thank you.

Peter eagerly explained, "We are taking one to ALL of the widows!"

This woman had never been married, but is somewhat elderly.

She replied, "Well, I'm kind of like a widow."

I was kind of mortified.

But in retrospect I don't think she was offended.

And the boys were trying so hard.

We told them not to say anything about widows to anyone else.

At the next house they were told thank you again.

It was awkward, and they didn't quite know how to leave.

We realized that we needed to teach them how to politely say, "You're welcome."

After that, things seemed to go better.

They went to every single door together.

They loved racing from house to house and were excited to take turns carrying the treat.

One woman told me thank you for the cupcake,

but said that she especially liked "the sweet little guys delivering it".

Another woman said, "They were so cute."

and that she could tell "that they felt good about what they were doing."

Love is contagious.

I feel overwhelmed with love from my Heavenly Father.

I wanted to share that with my boys.

They had an opportunity to pass it on to ladies they really don't even know.

And suddenly, the world feels brighter.

Happy Valentine's Day!

A New Phase

If I am counting correctly, I now have 18 nieces and nephews.

10 girls, 8 boys.

(And since 10+8=18, I think I must have gotten it right.)

This little cutie turned my brother into a father.

I remember David being born.

His crib was in my room.

I would wake up to see if he was breathing.

I changed his diapers, burped him, and loved him.

With Alister I feel like I am one step closer to being a grandma.

I know I'm too young to think about that.

But since I have less children than I had hoped for,

I have already spent a few years looking forward to the grandparent phase with anticipation.

And then I realized that my younger siblings would provide me with a happy in between phase.

This baby is the first of my nephews and nieces that doesn't have a sibling who overlaps in ages with my kids.

We won't do play dates with this little guy - the relationship will be different.

Instead of being one of the moms, I hope I get to be the grandma-like Aunt.

I want to spoil and love and adore.

And just look at that face!

I'm thinking that spoiling, loving and adoring this one is going to be pretty darn easy!

Family Date Night

Now that we have our evenings back, we have reclaimed date night.

Sometimes the dates are between one parent and one child.

Sometimes they are just the parents.

And other times yet, they are the entire family.

Last night was our family date night.

We were actually going to start our evening by taking dinner to my grandparents.

They had fed us the night before.

I had been amazingly busy and hadn't been able to stay to visit.

Andrew got called away to help me out for some of the time.

So we wanted to go back.

As Andrew reminded me, not every kid gets to grow up knowing his great-grandparents.

This is a pretty special treat.

We want to let our boys live it up while we can!

We called my grandma to tell her we were bringing dinner.

But she was on her way out the door.

They had been busy at home all day, and Grandpa was ready to go out.

They invited us to join them!

Grandpa LOVES bacon and eggs.

It's what he eats pretty much every day.

Sometimes he eats it two or three times a day.

So Denny's is a good choice for him.

That worked out well for us because the boys also LOVE Denny's.

As you can see from their smiles, they also love my Grandma.

(And seriously, who can blame them?  She is an amazing woman!!!!)

After dinner, we headed to Scheel's.

Grandpa was excited to check out all of the fishing stuff.

He is 92 years old,

he hasn't been able to walk on his own for years,

he hates traveling,

but is obsessed with planning a fishing trip.

For Christmas, he wanted to take my Grandma camping so they could fish.

He thought this picture was pretty cool stuff, 

although he didn't understand it while it was being taken...

Grandpa has also been really interested in this Ferris Wheel.

Sadly, there are several steps to get onto it, and he can't get up them.

At some point we are planning on getting our brothers/husbands to carry him up.

But last night was just Andrew.

He took the boys and Grandpa, Grandma and I watched.

Peter and Andrew LOVED it.

They had tons of fun.

Poor Ammon takes after me.

It made him VERY nervous.

(I'm with you Ammon - I HATE Ferris Wheels!)

I think he was miserable the entire time.

Overall, it was a fun night out.

I LOVE having my grandparents live so close.

I grew up with them being in a different state.

Having them here is something I can NOT take for granted.

It has been so much fun for me, my husband and my children.

What a blessing!

Once There Was a Snowman

January was a HUGE month for snow.

I guess it's been seventeen years since we've gotten this much.

And the boys LOVED it!

Ammon was especially eager to go straight to work shoveling snow and playing.

(The shoveling part lasted about four minutes - the playing about four hours...)

Late in the evening, the boys showed up at the back door asking,

"Mom, do we have any coal?"

???

I was so confused.

Do we have any coal???

What in the world would a five and nine year old need coal for?

And then I realized.

"Do you need eyes for a snowman?"

Yup.

That's what it was.

We didn't have any coal, so we used Andy's original pair of Oakley's.

They are fifteen years old.

He has literally five other pairs.

He never wears them these ones.

He still cringed a little when I told him we were using them for the snow man.

The boys were happy that we had carrots for a nose.

Peter mentioned that his snow man looked happy.

I think it was partly because of all the pretty colors of the fruit loop mouth.

They put the finishing touches on the snowman, we took pictures, and then came in for bed.

They had played out in the snow ALL day.

Leadership In Me - Think Win Win

The boys school has an awesome Leadership in Me program.

Each month they work on a different one of Covey's 7 Habits for Highly Successful People.

This past month focused on thinking "win/win".

Really, I think this is Ammon's favorite skill of the bunch.

He has been a natural at this ever since he was super young.

When he was little he wouldn't always say he was hungry and that he wanted an apple.

He would suggest, "We have too many apples..."
And leave it to me to determine how to solve the problem.

"Ammon, would you like to eat an apple?"
Of course, the answer would be yes!

He was AMAZING at always creating a scenario 

where it would benefit ME to suggest that he do exactly what HE wanted to do...

Anyway, that isn't exactly the winwin philosophy, but I think it's related.

The award was presented by Ammon's teacher, Mrs. Douglass.

We love her!

His principle was in charge of the assembly.

I don't know him well, but the kids adore him so I assume he is doing something right.

Peter and I were so happy to clap for Ammon and be there to support him.

Peter even took a picture of me with Ammon.

I sure am proud of my boys.

(Peter received the Leadership in Me award earlier this year.)

Pinewood Derby

This year was our first pinewood derby.

It was actually a major catalyst in Andrew's decision to accept a new schedule at work.

Working nights required him to miss the pack meeting every month.

But we knew he would take time off to make it to the pine wood derby.

We realized his new shift would require him to use vacation hours for certain Saturday events.

Then we realized he already had to do that.

Nothing lost in that aspect of the change, and other things were gained.

So we made the change in his schedule and we LOVE it.

Andrew took his responsibilities very seriously in helping Ammon get ready for the race.

They sat down together and designed a beautiful and sleek racing car.

They headed to Grandpa's house to use his saws and got it cut.

They went to the store together where Ammon selected his paint and decals.

Andrew supervised while Ammon did several coats of paint.

The wheels were added and then the stickers.

After it was built, we realized we had some flaws in the design.

The cut of the car had left very thin areas where the wheels needed to attach.

As a result, the wheels were a bit crooked.

Also, the car was cut so slim that there was little room for internal weights.

They could have added weights to the top, but Andrew didn't want to.

We didn't really care if Ammon won first place.

But both Andrew and I were so worried at the thought the he might come in last.

Our car looked pretty awesome,

but we knew it had some major weaknesses that would impact performance.

So, the morning before the derby, Andrew set out to help Ammon make a new car.

It was a crazy day because he worked his job until 8:00 at night Monday night.

Then he turned around and left the house at 7:00 the next morning - only to get home around 6:00.

The pinewood derby was scheduled to start at 7:00.

It was hectic, but we were able to get the new car made.

Just before the race started, the guy asked if anyone used the white powder.

I didn't know anything about powder, but Andrew was on top of it and had gotten some for Ammon's car.

It helps make the wheels spin better, I guess.

Well, we had used the white powder.

The guy said it was junk.

He said that anyone who wants to powder their car has to do it before the racing starts.

So we went and put some black powder on top of the white powder not thinking much more of it.

Then the race began.

They rolled four cars at a time.

Two of them (belonging to brothers) didn't even cross the line.

A quick review revealed that they had used the white powder.

The guy had them go douse them in the black powder as much as possible.

My heart sank.

We had put some black powder over the white, but was it enough?

No, it wasn't.

Race after race, Ammon's car came in dead last.

Ammon was heartbroken - he had been so proud of his car.

Andrew was devestated - he had worked so hard to avoid this very scenario.

It was sad to watch.

After each race, I had Ammon come sit with me on my lap.

We had whispered conversations about it being OK to lose.

We had hugs and kisses.

He was so sad, but he handled himself well.

I could see that he wanted to cry or even throw a big fit.

But he didn't.

The guy running the race was great about making it fun and not about winning.

But it was still hard for Ammon to come in dead last.

I don't know if anyone else even realized that he lost every single time.

But he did.

It was a hard night, because we knew it was just that stupid powder.

In fact, the third place winner was one of those cars that didn't even make it on his first run.

If only we had known!!!

But we finished the races, went out for ice-cream and all was forgotten.

Well, all the sadness was forgotten.

I think I will always remember being so proud of my boy - 

Who stayed strong in the midst of disappointment.

He never gave up hope and he stuck with it until the end.

Sometimes bad things happen.

There is nothing that can be done to change the situation.

It can really stink and just not be any fun.

But whether or not you can control the situation, you can always control your response.

I felt like Ammon was able to learn that lesson this year.

If even just a little bit.

And that is what I loved most about the pinewood derby.

I'm so proud of my boy!

Prayer

I had a mission companion who really struggled to remember her morning prayers.

I seriously could NOT understand this.

You wake up, roll out of bed, and there you are on your knees.

How can this not be ingrained in everyone?

It's just SO easy!

Then I had children.

Suddenly the waking up process changed from gently rolling out of bed.

It turned into jumping into action to meet the cries of a child.

Nine years later, I still find myself struggling to find consistency in my morning prayers.

This morning flowed smoothly.

The boys got up easily and Ammon got ready quickly.

(Neither of those are things that can be taken for granted around here.)

Ammon wanted to eat breakfast at school so we tried that out today.

I loved going to school early.

We missed all the crazy rush of dropping kids off.

Then we got home and Peter was ready for breakfast.

Sadly, that is where my first prayer of the day came in.

I don't recall all the things I prayed for.

I have many things I am grateful for.

I also have many things I could use help from heaven with.

But I do remember that I prayed for Ammon to be safe.

I prayed for him to be protected.

And as I said those words which were ordinary but also felt prompted,

I could almost see a shield of protection coming from home

And extending over him at school.

It was like we were all being placed in a bubble of safety.

I've never experienced anything quite like that before.

I expect today to be quite ordinary.

But I have to wonder if some harm would have come his way

had that prayer not been said.

I'll likely never know.

I am grateful for the power of prayer.

I truly felt it today.

Like a Butterfly

Lately I have been feeling spiritually empty.

Starved, even.

Physically, I have been eating better.

I have gotten to the point where when I am hungry
I don't just need food.
I actually long for and crave proper nutrition.
(I've been eating more fruits and vegetables than I ever have in my life.)

On a spiritual level I started feeling that same longing.

After three weeks of not being able to attend church for various reasons

(sick children, stake conference, sick child)

I finally was able to go back on Sunday.

It felt good, but it wasn't enough.

I usually get such a boost from attending church.

But I still needed more.

On Thursday I was able to attend the temple.

It was wonderful!

Andrew has Thursdays off now which is so nice.

Ever since we learned of his new schedule we wanted to use Thursday afternoon for a temple date.

Things were just too crazy the first week while we were adjusting to all the schedule changes.

The second week didn't work because the boys had a short day in school.

But finally we were able to go this week.

To make it even better, my grandparents were able to come.

My Grandpa LOVES the temple but has felt like he was unable to go for some time.

We finally convinced him that he would have all the help he needed and that things would go well.

He was beaming the whole time!

I LOVED it.

As I was sitting in the temple, I thought back to this video I had watched earlier in the week:

Ever since I first heard this talk by President Uchtdorf, I have found it to be a curious analogy.

I feel so bad for the man in the story.

I see him taking responsibility, making sacrifices and working hard.

Those are such admirable traits!

It breaks my heart to see such an admirable person miss out on so much.

It is interesting to consider what I might be missing out on - 

despite my best intentions and desires to do things right.

As I sat in the temple on Thursday I thought about how much I miss out on by not being there more often.

It really is a place that brings me peace and joy.

I also experience comfort, rest and guidance there.

I am excited to have a plan for more frequent attendance.

This morning I still felt like I needed more.

I went to lds.org to see what spiritual strength I could soak up.

I stumbled upon this butterfly talk.

I wanted to share it with someone I love, so I made this picture for her.

There has been nothing in my life more powerful than when I finally let go of who I wanted to be

and I began to focus on being who the Lord would have me become.

There is joy in this approach.

It is an ongoing process.

I am grateful for the reminder.

I feel blessed that when I feel empty, I have so many tools at my disposable to rejuvenate me.

I spent some time searching through the youth curriculum for the church.

It looks so amazing!

There are so many study tools to help me feast on God's word.

I know I need to dig more heavily into the scriptures.

I don't live up to that privilege nearly as much as I should.

But I'm going to try to be a butterfly;

I'm going to work on it one correct choice at a time.