First Date

Ten years ago yesterday, I woke up deathly ill. I don't remember much--but I do remember that I wasn't able to be out of bed for more than an hour or two at a time. I also remember that I hoped and prayed (fervently) that whatever it was would go away before tomorrow. Because the next night was supposed to be my first date with Ryan.

I was REALLY looking forward to that date. Ryan had seen me turn guys down before and I didn't want him to doubt that I wanted to go out with him. (That makes me sound like I was a hot item. I really wasn't.) For some reason, I felt very strongly that I WANTED to go on this date. When I wasn't feeling much better by that evening, I asked my dad for a priesthood blessing.

The next morning, I woke up feeling slightly better, but definitely still sick. I was also still incredibly determined to go out with Ryan that night. So, I stayed in bed and rested as much as I could before it was time to get ready.

In the late afternoon, Ryan called. He had heard through a mutual friend that I was pretty sick and wanted to make sure I was still able to go out that night. I reassured him that I was feeling well enough to go out. But just barely.

What I didn't know was that Ryan was sick, too. He went to the necessary classes that morning and ended up asking a mission buddy for a blessing--because HE didn't want to cancel our date either. He skipped work that afternoon to go home and sleep. By date time, he was also feeling well enough to go out. But just barely. (In fact, he said my answer determined his. If I was well enough, he decided he would be, too.)

That night, we went out--two sickies who probably should have stayed home and slept--to grab some dinner and play pool at Ozz in Provo. When we placed our order for dinner, they told us their grill was off--so we couldn't have the burgers we wanted. And then after a few minutes, they decided to leave the grill on for our order--so the burgers were back on. And then after a few more minutes, they came out to tell us that they were out of hamburger buns, and would it be OK to have them on another kind of bread. Once the dinner issues were out of the way, we started playing pool.

I remember being across the pool table from Ryan, holding on to my orange juice, (we both ordered orange juice that night), and laughing, and then coughing. Every time either of us laughed, we both ended in up in coughing fits. There was a lot of laughing and coughing that night.

After Ozz, we went to join some of our friends to play games at Ryan's office while he started a weekly data backup. I don't remember much about the games. Or movie. Or whatever we ended up doing. When it got to be about midnight, our friends were heading home. I had a choice to stay for another couple of hours while Ryan finished the backup or I could go home with friends. I was feeling OK at that point, but I decided to go home and get some more rest. (And we thus avoided the awkward first date doorstep scene.)

Turns out that it was probably a good idea that I went home with our friends that night. As soon as everyone left, Ryan slipped back into feeling horrible again. When he finally went home in his half-sick stupor, he ended up sliding on the icy roads, spinning a few donuts, and hitting a barrier in the middle of the road with his back bumper. (He and his car were totally fine--which was a huge relief!)

I had a great time with Ryan--and, apparently, he had a great time with me, too. We decided to get married a month later and got officially engaged a month after that. I'd like to ask, "Who knew!?," but, really, I think in the back of my mind, I knew. I wasn't ready to admit it for a while, but somewhere deep inside, I knew. And for the rest of my life, that date 10 years ago today will remain the beginning of the best thing that ever happened to me.

My Two Cents...And A Little More

It's time. This post has been formulating in my life for over 2 years now. In my head, it's been pulling together for a couple of weeks. Before that, I didn't dare share my thoughts so publicly. But a conversation began a couple of weeks ago in Relief Society as a result of a lesson. Since I wasn't there to add my perspective, this is how I'm adding to the conversation. I have thought about, discussed, prayed about, (and then thought about a little more), exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it. This is what I've got.

Socialization in our ward is hard. I know that there isn't one woman in this ward who hasn't felt repercussions of the very active social scene that we find ourselves in. Whether you perceive yourself as "in" or "out," there are challenges inherent in both perspectives, and you have experienced heartache and/or frustration as a result. Unfortunately feelings don't know the difference between an intended snub and an unintended oversight. I've been there, too. On both sides of the heartache. None of this makes me an expert. But I have learned a few things along the way to finding a happy balance in my life. Here are a few of those things:

You can't invite everyone to everything
In the last few years, I've heard the phrase, "You can't invite everyone to everything" more often than I care to count. While it's not my favorite phrase, (because when you feel on the "out" side of things, hearing that feels like a cop out), it is TRUE. Chances are if we rarely have a real conversation with someone, we aren't going to be invited to their event. Seems like a given to me. Yes, not being invited hurts--especially when, thanks to social media, you see that 15 out of 20 people at the event are people you consider close friends. But we have to respect that everyone has limitations--be it the size of their house or their own feeling of how much party they want to offer. (Or any other issue that determines a guest list.) No one would ever plan any kind of event if an outrageous guest list was required every time. Not even those of us who have felt left out.

Something to add here...when you plan events with your friends, do you try to hide it? I can't tell you how many times I've heard very vaguely about some kind of gathering that has either taken place or will soon take place--but no one will actually talk about it, because they're afraid that someone will feel left out. I'm not saying that everyone who wants to do something with their friends needs to put an announcement in the ward bulletin or post a warning on facebook. But, if it comes up in normal conversation, we shouldn't be afraid to talk about it! It feels MUCH worse to hear about or see pics from something that 10 of your friends attended after the fact when you KNEW something was going on, but no one would say it. It makes it feel like those 10 people all had/have a big secret they're keeping from you. And that feels worse than just being left out. So, we all need to be open.

People are allowed to have friends
We have a lot of amazing and worth-knowing women in this ward, many of whom are visible for their talents and outgoing friendliness. And many of these women are so friendly, welcoming, fun, and *insert your own adjective here* that you immediately feel like you would like to be best friends with any one of them. But due to life circumstances, their "friend quotas" might be full for a period of time. Maybe that outwardly incredible woman is leaning heavily on her closest friends to get through a challenge--and she just doesn't have the energy to spend on cultivating new friendships at the moment. That woman is allowed to spend her time on existing relationships. ANY of us are. For ANY reason. In ANY way that we choose. If you feel on the outside of a situation like this, my advice would be to back off and find other friends who, like you, are currently in the market. Let that desired relationship lie for a season and maybe you can come back to it at another time when life situations are more conducive to developing a solid friendship.

Now, while everyone is allowed to have friends and allowed to do whatever they want with their friends, we all need to remember that at large gatherings, (including baby showers, Relief Society meetings, and any other random large group gathering), there are other people around us. How do you handle those large group gatherings? Do you cluster with your close friends? Do you (intentionally or not) ignore someone sitting on the other side of you because you're chatting with a friend? Or do you open yourself up to a conversation with someone who may need a friend? I think it's normal to believe that someone else will take care of the lonely person over there. But it's important for us all to be THAT someone. On the flip side, if you're the lonely one, try reaching out--don't make anyone else responsible for your enjoyment.

Sorrows that the eye cannot see
Let's say that all of the Relief Society sisters in our ward are sitting together in the chapel. Now, pretend that you're standing in front of the group and point out which women are carrying the following burdens: Whose parents are going through a nasty divorce? Who is dealing with depression? Who feels horrible for yelling at her kids that morning? Who just learned that her childhood friend has a terminal disease? Who is dealing with the addiction of a family member? Who just had a miscarriage? And there are countless others that I know of, but I didn't mention. In most cases, unless we are a close friend, (and sometimes even then), we have no idea what burdens are being carried in the hearts of any one of those sisters. Yet, we come to church on Sunday, feeling our own burdens, and have an expectation that someone will reach out to us--because we need love and support. Then, when the expectation is not met, (either at all or in the way we wanted it to be), we feel let down and even worse than we did when we arrived. But what if we treated every sister like she is carrying a heavy burden? How would that change your actions? (And to clarify, I have no idea whether anyone in our ward is actually experiencing those things. They're just examples I came up with.)

As I have had conversations with various ladies in the ward about this topic, one common theme I've found is that we all think that our combination of circumstances justifies us in not reaching out. Even when we know a little about others' burdens, we somehow convince ourselves that "Sister Q" has it easier because of Reasons X, Y, and Z. Or we think that "Sister M" doesn't have any right to feel lonely--because we've seen her in those pics of that event on social media. Yeah, maybe it doesn't seem fair. But who are we to determine what another person should or shouldn't feel? I'll refer you to what I said in the paragraph above. Let's give each other a break, OK?

Friendships fluctuate
This is an incredibly difficult and potentially damaging issue when you're dealing with a large group of good friends. We all want that ONE friend. The ONE that calls us when she's sad. The ONE that calls us when she's happy. The ONE that calls us when she wants to go out for sushi. The ONE that calls us when she wants to go thrifting. The ONE that texts us a picture when she can't decide which shoes to wear. The ONE that we want to call for all of the above. And sometimes we feel like we're well on our way to having that friend. Maybe we're even that ONE friend. And then things change for whatever reason, (and there are a lot of possibilities here). But friendships don't stay static. And the ONE friend with whom you mutually met needs during a certain season may not fit as well as you both transition into another season. And a friendship you previously weren't too invested in begins to blossom. This is a very normal part of friendship.

I have a friend like this. I thought that we were getting to be very close friends and, because of that, I had expectations for our friendship. But, as it turned out, something in each of our lives changed and things between us began to be incompatible. My expectations were not met and I felt hurt. It was at this point that I decided to distance myself from that relationship. I completely changed my expectations and set firm boundaries for myself. After several months of this, something changed again in each of our lives. Our experiences were again compatible. Do we see eye to eye? Not really, but the things we've been through have brought us separately to a place of understanding again. Is she my ONE friend. No--but we are good friends again. And that is still a very good place to be.

You are the only one who can change your situation
When talking about the social situation in our ward, I often get the feeling that those who have been hurt expect someone else to fix their problem. Why do we give away our power like this? Why do we insist on being acted upon, instead of acting for ourselves? If you're the one who has been left out time and time again, what are you doing about it? If you are the one who desperately wants a friend, what are you doing about it? If you need someone to sit next to in Relief Society, what are you doing about it?

I went through a really challenging time socially. I'm not going to say when (or for how long) and I'm not going to say specifics--I'll just say that every single time I heard about ANYTHING social that I wasn't invited to, it was very, VERY difficult. As I thought about it, I realized that these groups of friends had no idea that I was hurt. They were simply enjoying their lives and their friends--and I could remain angry and hurt or I could enjoy MY life and MY friends. I decided to take charge of my own social life and set up an event. I decided on a few parameters: it couldn't take time away from my family, it should be something that would help me improve, it needed to occur on a regular basis, and it had to be fun. I came up with such an activity and through prayer, I determined a short guest list--which ended up consisting mostly of people I didn't know very well. The first few months, it was a little awkward. Our conversations were of the "getting to know you" variety, which aren't very comfortable. But, over time, (all friendships take time), those awkward conversations have grown into great friendships.

Now, are you supposed to do the same thing I did? I don't know. You are a different person from me. You have different availability, interests, and desires. But I do know that when you pray about your own situation, you will know what to do. And that feeling of acting, instead of being acted upon, is so empowering.

---------------
Like I said, I am certainly not an expert on our ward's socialization. But I'm really grateful for what I've learned because recently, for the first time since I moved into the ward 3 1/2 years ago, I have finally become completely at peace with the social situation here. It has been an incredibly challenging journey at times, and has taken a lot of effort and a lot of heartache to get to this point. My hope is that somehow my experiences might help someone avoid any further heartache while navigating the ins and outs of our social circles.

12 Years

Yesterday, while preparing for a YW activity, I spent a couple of hours looking through my old photos. A few from my baby years, several from high school, even more from college, and HUNDREDS from my mission. (Maybe not quite hundreds, but who's counting?) I suppose this was perfect timing, as today marks a dozen years since I entered the MTC.

Having somewhat recently returned from an amazing trip to the Baltic states, where I lived and served for 18 months, this day is quite poignant for me. I spent time there with some of the members, (Chans, Vera Koemets, and Jelena Kalnina), I walked those city streets again, I smelled the same smells, I saw the same buildings (and a LOT of new ones), and I relived a million memories.

As I look back on the past 12 years, I've started to undestand how much that experience shaped me. I think no matter where I had gone in the world, those 18 months still would have refined me like nothing else can. Not high school. Not college. Not marriage. Not raising children. Don't get me wrong--all of those things have shaped me. But nothing can compare to the experience of a mission.

I learned how to really feel and listen to the spirit for myself. And, as I've described previously, I knew when my companion and I were both in tune with that voice. I learned how to deal with my doubts and fears. We all have them. I don't think anyone can get through a mission without encountering some kind of opposition--and you have to figure out how to move through it. I learned how to better work with all kinds of people: companions, church members, investigators, bobs on the street, teenage girls on the bus, strangers who needed a smile. But more than anything, I learned a lot more about my Savior Jesus Christ, whose name I wore for the world to see for a year and a half. I came to understand that I was truly doing His work. I was sharing His love and His light with people He loves.

I am so grateful that's the path I felt directed to take in my life. It has shaped who I am and where I am now. And though there were days, weeks, and months that were incredibly hard, I'd do it all over again in a heart beat. Because it was all completely worth it.

The Bus Stop

Last month, during the General Relief Society Broadcast, I was reminded of my mission. And, more specifically, the guidance and spiritual impressions I received as a missionary. One experience in particular stood out.

I was in Tallinn, Estonia at the time. It was early February and I recently been assigned a new companion. We had been asked by our mission president to "harvest" in our areas. Harvesting meant that we were to plan time to go tracting, (going door to door to invite people to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ), pray specifically about which area to go to, knock on every door in the building, and, for those who were open to it, we would pray with them in their homes. One night, my companion and I decided we would go harvesting. I wrote about the experience in my journal:

[Sister Lucas and I] didn't know where to go - so we prayed. We decided that Lasnamae seemed like a great place and we decided on the exact place, (bus stop), within Lasnamae. When we got off the bus, I just followed Sis. Lucas to see where she would go. We came to a little "fork" in our path and I felt we should go right, but didn't say anything. Well--Sis. Lucas went right--and I kept following. As I looked around, I thought "We need to go to that big dom (Russian apartment building) over there--the first stairwell." It was a locked stairwell--like most in Lasnamae, so I didn't know how we were going to get in. But as I followed Sis. Lucas there--again without talking, we found that the door wasn't all the way closed. So--we started to tract.

When we tracted these huge apartment buildings, we would ride the elevator all the way to the top of the building, and then start knocking on doors floor by floor and heading down. A few floors down, we met an Estonian girl and had a great religious conversation with her.

What I remember most about that night was absolute silence while Sis. Lucas and I were walking through the cold darkness. We didn't say one word to each other, yet we were both directed where we needed to be that particular night. The distinct feeling of being led by God's hand is still imprinted on my soul.

There wasn't anything in particular which brought this memory to the surface during the broadcast. Just a general feeling while listening to the speakers intensified my desire to be led like that again--to KNOW that I was being led and to see the miracles like I saw as a missionary. After the meeting, I went home and began praying for those experiences again. A few days later, on Monday, I was taking my girls to their school bus stops when the Lord began answering my prayers.

As a little bit of background, my girls go to different schools this year, and their buses pick up on opposite (diagonal) corners of an intersection where a middle school is located. I had to park on one side of the street, walk my kids across to one stop, and then cross back over to the other side to get my other daughter on her bus. Between the timing of the middle school starting and two different buses picking up, that intersection is CRAZY for about 20 minutes every school morning--my kids and I had almost been hit twice while crossing back over for the second bus, and another little boy had nearly been hit while crossing to the first bus.

That Monday morning, I got my first daughter on her bus, and waited for the signal to change so we could cross back for the second. When the green walky guy, (as we call it), showed up, we began to cross. When we were about 1/2 way across the street, just as signal was about to change to the red flashing hand, I looked up and saw a small gray Mazda hatchback speeding down the street. He was coming way too fast--especially for the school zone--and I was concerned that he wasn't going to be able to stop in time. Since my daughter usually runs ahead when the red hand starts flashing, I grabbed her and said, "Stay RIGHT with me," and stopped right in the middle of the street. Within a second, the car sped through the crosswalk right in front of us, nearly hitting the cars that were turning left out of middle school drop-off. It was an extremely scary situation and shook me up a bit.

In that moment, two things happened. First, I knew that God had protected us. I knew that I had looked up to see the car for a reason. I knew that I had kept my daughter close for a reason. I knew that the driver hadn't caused an accident for a reason. Secondly, I knew that it had happened to me for a reason. I didn't know exactly how it was going to happen, but I KNEW that I had to get that bus stop changed.

When I returned home that morning, I called the police and the school district transportation office. I emailed principals at both kids' schools and I posted on my city's facebook page. Both the police and the transportation office told me that they'd take it into account, but couldn't say that anything would change. Knowing that this was a battle dual-school parents had been fighting for years was very discouraging.

Tuesday morning, I received a phone call telling me an officer was posted at the intersection--and sure enough, when I arrived, someone had already been pulled over. I wanted to personally thank the officer, but since he was busy with another school zone speeder when it was time to go, I didn't get the chance. That morning, I also printed up mini-fliers with the school transportation office's number and handed them out to parents at the bus stops. Many parents told me they would call. Tuesday afternoon, I received a call from one of the school principals. He informed me that he had forwarded my email to the head of district transportation, along with a note from himself, and that since it had come from both principals, it was "having quite an impact" (his words) at the transportation office. They would be sending an observer to come out to the location and monitor the situation, though a date had not been set for that yet. I knew that God had directed me in whom to contact and what to say as I was relating my story and asking for help.

Wednesday morning, traffic was a little quieter at the intersection and the officer wasn't there. I was pretty upset that they sent someone for only ONE DAY. This same day, while standing on a corner, a car was coming a little too fast for the school zone--and I yelled, "School zone! This is a school zone!" as he turned the corner. A few minutes later, he walked from around the corner and proceeded to yell at me for telling him to slow down. When the bus arrived a minute later, the driver sternly instructed another woman that she was not to cross the street on a green light if the green man wasn't lit up. (I later looked this up and found, as far as I can tell, that this isn't true.) The pressure of the entire situation settled down on me in that moment and my daughter and I were in tears by the time her bus pulled away. As soon as I left that day, I decided that we would use an alternate bus stop until the district moved it to a safer location. That night, I prayed that something would happen when the observer came so that s/he would be able to clearly see the danger of the situation.

Thursday morning, I took my older daughter to the alternate bus stop. We got to leave the house a few minutes later than usual and were quite happy with the much, MUCH safer location. The only drawback is that I have to drive my other daughter to school, but a 10-minute inconvenience is nothing in comparison to what we'd been dealing with. While waiting for the bus, a police officer drove up. He was there to report to another parent on a completely unrelated situation, but it turned out he was the same officer assigned to our former bus stop. I was able to thank him for coming--and he explained that some improvements in school zone signage were needed at that intersection. He gave me his card and told me to call if I needed anything else. I knew that God had inspired me to change stops beginning that morning, when my original thought had been to give it one more day, (Thursday was our last day of school that week). I also know that it wasn't a coincidence that the officer stopped by the other stop that day.

At that point, I wasn't sure how things were going to work out, but I felt confident that God had it all in His hands. There had been too many instances that had worked out perfectly for me to doubt that everything happening was divinely guided.

Early the following week, when I was picking up my oldest daughter from her (much safer) afternoon bus stop, I saw one of the other ladies from the dangerous morning stop. She informed me that the observer had come on Thursday morning--and that he had also almost been hit while crossing the street. That combined with simply observing the rest of the chaos had been enough to convince him that the bus stop needed to move. I was grateful that he hadn't been hurt! And, once again, I felt these things were an answer to prayer and one more instance reminding me that God was truly guiding me, aware of me, and showing me His miracles in small, personal ways.

The end to this story? The bus stop was changed from the south side of the intersection to the north side. While the location is a little bit safer, I still refuse to cross the street, so I have chosen to permanently stay at the alternate bus stop. Plus, I get to leave the house 10 minutes later--which makes our mornings a lot calmer.

While I have wanted to post about the details since it happened, I have hesitated posting the spiritual side of things. In considering this, I am reminded of Elder Bednar's most recent conference talk in which he taught about "significant but subtle" blessings in our lives. While it may appear subtle to others, this experience has been significant for me--a reminder that God IS directing my steps as a mother and as a person. What amazes me most is that God was able to answer my prayers in such a direct, personal way. I have been reminded that my steps are guided and that God does still allow me to witness miracles--even though they may seem small to the understanding of men.

There's a Crack in Everything

It's hard to believe 4 months have passed since I last blogged! It seems that time has flown by in a blink. There are a lot of things I'd love to blog about, (like my amazing trip to the Baltics! That may come later...), but today, inspiration has struck about something completely different.

Today, during the worldwide General Conference for my church, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles, gave a talk about mental illness and how to show compassion for those who are dealing with it. He emphasized that there are a lot of things we can say or imply about how someone else should deal with their trials, and more often than not, those things are judgmental and anything but compassionate. Having somewhat recently dealt with post-partum depression, I identified with his talk in many ways. And, if Facebook is any kind of indicator, Elder Holland's is among the most popular talks from the 2 sessions presented today, so I know I'm not alone in that identification.

During part of his talk, Elder Holland said, "Though we may feel that we are like a broken vessel, as the psalmist says, we must remember that vessel is in the hand of The Divine Potter." His comment reminded me of a quote that says, "There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." (Leonard Cohen--To be quite honest, I have no idea what the context of this quote is.)

When I first read this quote, I thought it was strange and I didn't get it. So I continued to think about what it meant for me. Over time, I came to really love it. If there isn't some kind of opening, how would light ever get in? If we are each sound vessels, with no imperfections, the Light of the World (Jesus Christ) would never be able to enter our hearts. More than that, there would be no need for Him to enter our hearts if we were perfect.

In the context of Elder Holland's talk today, I thought about how we are all broken vessels in one way or another. Physically, mentally, and/or emotionally, we may have a few hairline fractures or may even feel smashed to pieces, but that is how the Light gets in. It is these experiences of mortal life that grant us a desire to draw closer to our Savior. Without them, we would have no need for Him or for His light. It is that Light that will fill and fix those cracks, (or put us back together as the case may be), and make us whole again.

This has been my experience as I dealt with post-partum depression. I am grateful for my therapist, who I know is blessed with a talent to counsel people and help them navigate their tough times. And, more than that, I am grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Without His Atonement, healing from the depression I experienced would not have been possible. All healing and improvement in any life is possible only in and through Jesus Christ--whether we acknowledge that reality or not.

So, next time you feel like a broken vessel, allow yourself to ponder on the life of the Savior and His perfect love for you. And know that's how the light gets in.

Weekend Recap

I am so tired. SO. TIRED. That's what happens when you have a whirlwind weekend vacation. Here's a (hopefully) short run down of the weekend:

Thursday
Flew to UT. I sat in the window seat with Tanner. The lady next to me was a little large for her seat, so Tanner and I sat in 2/3 of our seat. It was a bit cramped. At least Tanner was pretty well-behaved and happy for the entire flight. It was a little tiring trying to keep him from touching the lady--but she was very nice about it.
Stayed up talking with Mirinda, who just had her first baby, (which is why I went to UT). I got to meet little Adilay Miri, who doesn't like to go to bed for the night until about 2 a.m. So I hung out with them until Adi decided to go to sleep.

Friday
Had a girls' lunch with my mom, sisters, sister-in-law, and her mom. (Oh, and Tanner and Adi came, too.) Afterward, we ran lots of errands to prepare for Adi's blessing brunch on Sunday.
I took a short(ish) nap that afternoon. Definitely needed, considering that I already was lacking on sleep.
Tanner got a haircut. It's so nice to have a stylist in the family! Baby mullet is officially gone.
That night, my brother's family arrived late. Stayed up until 2 a.m. laughing and talking and watching YouTube videos with my siblings.

Saturday
We had a family breakfast and then I took Carissa and my nephew, (who was the only non-baby boy there), to run more errands. Part of my quest was to introduce my family to Virgil's root beer--which I accomplished. (They all loved it!)
For the hour or two until dinner, we hung out all together, played games on our tablets, and chatted.
That evening, we went to Café Rio. I don't think I need to say any more about that. Yum.
After dinner, my sister-in-law and I put the babies to bed and ran another errand. It was fun to have talking time with her.
Once the kids were in bed, we played "Wits and Wagers." Carissa had mentioned the game to me earlier that day, (it was a coincidence that we played it that night), and we had discussed how our family would easily get distracted by a detail of the game. Sure enough, we had more fun naming our wager chips than actually playing the game. Some of my favorite names: Carn, Buffalo, Ghost, Pirate. Oh, and the fact that when asked how many Superbowl titles the Dallas Cowboys had won, all but 2 of us guessed 5. And we were right. It was kind of epic.
My goal was to get to bed before 2 a.m. this night. I headed upstairs at 1:30...and ended up talking with my sister, (we shared a room), until 2:30 instead. Oh well.

Sunday
With all of the people in the house sharing 2 1/2 bathrooms, I was up at 6:30 to get ready for 9 a.m. church. I don't think 4 hours is ever enough sleep...
Little Adi looked beautiful in the heirloom-style blessing dress my mom and sister made for her. She is such a cute little Snuglet.
The blessing was wonderful--and immediately following sacrament meeting, we headed to the house for a family brunch. Had my other 3 kids been there, I would have been crazy--but it was fun loading up my nieces and nephews with all the sugary treats they requested and watching them run around and play. Tanner started falling asleep in his high chair. Guess I wasn't the only one not getting enough sleep.
After everyone left, I did boring things like pack. And hold the baby. But that wasn't boring.
My flight was delayed about 30 minutes, which I found out BEFORE we left for the airport. It was much better to spend time waiting at the house, instead of at the airport. (In the end, the pilots arrived early from Atlanta--so we weren't as late as we were supposed to be.)
Tanner was not fun on the flight home. He was overtired, uncooperative, and somewhat fussy. At least the people sitting near me were super nice. And we had our entire window seat to ourselves this time. The extra few inches were nice.
The whole crew came to pick me up from the airport. According to Ryan, Clayton stayed awake the entire drive to the airport and the entire time they were in the cell lot. While his sisters were sleeping, he was chatting and wide awake waiting to see mom. When they arrived at the curb, I leaned in and said hi to him, and he IMMEDIATELY dropped off to sleep. It was pretty funny.
We finally got home at about 10:45 p.m.

Today, we are all so tired. (The rest of my family went to Ocean Shores to play at Nana and Papa's house for the weekend.) My kids all slept in and we're all moving in slow motion. The weekend was quite fun for all of us, though. Now I just need to get my siblings to bring their families up HERE to visit. :)

Segeberg Scoop - April 2013

So, I missed March. Oh well. I'm here now. So, that's good, right?

March was a great month! I can't remember a lot of the small details, but I remember one big event: Tanner turned one! We didn't have a huge party, but Tanner loved his gifts and trying out the cake. He really is just the sweetest little guy. He's pretty mellow and chill, until Clayton "plays" with him ("He fell over by himself, Mom!"), someone takes his toys (usually Clayton), he gets fenced in, or it's between 5-6 p.m. on a weekday. He's quite smiley and will even try to engage strangers just so he can smile at them. He was my smallest baby, and he's still a tiny little guy. He was the first of 14 babies born in our ward within about 10 months, and he's still one of the smaller ones. (Some of the other kids passed him up in size by the time they were 2-3 mos. old!) Within the past couple of weeks, Tanner has really taken off with the cruising. We got him a little push walker and he loves that thing! His legs are still a little awkward, but it looks like it's all coming together. Probably another month or two before he'll be a stand-alone walker, though.

Also in March, our girls got to go to a "Daddy Daughter Sock Hop" put on by our ward. They had the greatest time! Kallie participated in the hula hoop contest and came in third. The girl who came in first was so sweet--she didn't want the hula hoop she won, so she gave it to Kallie. Of course, Kallie was THRILLED about that.

Toward the end of the month, Ryan attended a BBQ class through Seattle BBQ University. He learned a lot--and we're looking forward to trying out all his new tricks this summer!

Now to April...my in-laws came home from their mission the first week of April. They were supposed to finish their mission in August and meet us in the Baltics--but due to some health concerns, they needed to come home sooner. We were lucky enough to have them stay here with us for a few days as they were getting everything taken care of. They've also been here nearly every weekend. It has been especially fun to get to see them so often!

A lot of people have asked if that means we won't be going to Baltics anymore. But, the plane tickets are purchased, the reservations are made--so Ryan and I will still be going to the Baltics in August. We'll miss having Ryan's parents there, but are looking forward to touring my mission areas. It's hard to believe it's only 3 months away! I can't wait.

April was also a month of decision for us. At the beginning of the month, we interviewed at a local school in the interest of getting Kallie in next fall. Within a couple of weeks, we learned that she had been recommended for our district's "Highly Capable" program, which meant that she would switch to a completely different school. It took a bit of thinking and time to determine the best course of action for her at this point--but we decided to go ahead with the HighCap program. We're excited to see how things will go in the fall!

It seems like I should have so much more to say--because things felt much busier than just a couple of paragraphs. But, I suppose that's the reality of having a "large" family. (Hearing that always makes me laugh. I think our family is rather average-sized, but comments from strangers tell me otherwise.) Until the end of May...

Piece of Cake

Most of you know that my baby turned one this week. Ok--probably all of you know that. (Because all 12 of you are also facebook friends.) A few weeks prior to the event, I had in my mind how I was going to make it a special and memorable day for...um, his siblings? Because who remembers their first birthday? Not me. Not my other kids, that's for sure.

In my mind, I saw a Very Hungry Caterpillar themed birthday party. I would make a Pinterest-worthy birthday banner, using the different items the caterpillar eats through in the book. I would decorate with red and green...maybe a few balloons, maybe some streamers, but it would be festive. Most of all, I would make Little T the cutest cake. I toyed with the idea of putting mini-cupcakes on top of the actual birthday cake, decorating all of the above so it would look like the caterpillar on a leaf. As it drew nearer, I decided to go with full-sized cupcakes in the shape of the cute little caterpillar.

So, I made cupcakes. And they didn't turn out. But, I had a little extra batter, which I poured into a pan and baked, (because there was enough). The cake wouldn't come out of the pan, in spite of the fact that I totally greased it. And it's a non-stick type of pan. (I think I was laughing by this point.) So in the pan it stayed and this is what I ended up with:

 

I am actually kind of embarrassed to put that picture on my blog. I took cake decorating classes years ago and enjoy making cute cakes for my kids' birthdays. They're not over-the-top amazing, but they have all looked better than this one. As I was decorating it and actually laughing about how horrible it looked, Ryan jokingly commented that he's seen what I'm capable of--so I shouldn't worry too much about this one. Not to mention, I love cooking/baking, etc. and the cake itself did NOT turn out. Ryan, not jokingly, assured me that the cake really did taste good, though.

 

But this story isn't really about the cake. Because what most of you don't know is that for the past 4 (or so) months, I have been dealing with post-partum depression. I've consistently said it was mild, but it got pretty challenging for a while there. During the worst of it, I didn't tell many people. At first, the only people who knew were my husband and my friend who babysat while I was going to my therapy appointments. But as things began to get better, I told a few more of my friends, some of whom were VERY influential in helping me make progress. I'm definitely on the downside now, thank goodness. I can't say it's completely gone yet and I do still have some days (fewer and further between) where I wonder if it will ever fully go away. But for the most part, life is a lot better than it was a few months ago.

 

But even that is not the point of my story. The point of it is where the cake situation and post-partum depression collide--in a good way--to show me what I've learned in the last few months. There are few more things I have to explain before we get there, though.

 

Part of post-partum depression is that your expectations for yourself do not match up with the reality of your life. And you constantly feel like you're failing. You don't have the mental capacity nor the physical energy to keep up with everything you used to--and, therefore, you fail. (Again.) (And again.) (Oh, and one more time.) This feeling of constant failure brought me to tell my therapist that not having a clean house reflects poorly on me. Misbehaving children reflect poorly on me. Anything that isn't done perfectly--or at least to my personal, way-too-high, exacting standards--reflects poorly on me.

 

And then she explained something to me that has taken me a long time to really embrace. (Still working on it, actually. I think I'm getting there though...most days.) She said, "You are not your house," and then extended that idea to my children's behavior and those other "anythings" that I feel I don't do perfectly. She reminded me of all of the capabilities and qualities I have--not the external manifestation of those qualities, but what's actually inside of me--and explained that the state of my house (or insert any other imperfection here) does not represent those talents and abilities that make me who I am.

 

Which brings me back to the cake. In the moment I was decorating the cake, when I realized how horrible it was turning out, I made a choice. Instead of putting ME into the cake, instead of piling another guilt rock into my backpack, instead of freaking out (internally or externally) that it wasn't perfect, I decided that this cake did not represent me or my love for my child. It was a cake. That's all.

 

In the past few months, I have learned that motherhood is about being ME--and not a mom. All of those things that you see and hear other moms doing? Those are them being THEM. Not a mom. It's about giving yourself permission, (because really, who else will give it to you once you're an adult?), to be YOU. It's about letting go of your expectations and realizing that just being YOU is enough in the first place. And it's about detaching yourself from external sources of self-confidence or weakness and finding those things within yourself. I'm definitely still working on this. It will probably take years to change my thinking and fully apply this idea. But I hope as I continue to grow into this concept, I can remember the moment when it looked like a piece of cake.

Segeberg Scoop - February 2013

Close to the end of last month, I realized that once upon a time, I wrote a monthly family newsletter. Maybe it was the blogging, maybe it was facebook, maybe it was that we moved, or that life got too busy. But, somehow along the way to 4 kids, I not only stopped writing it, I completely FORGOT that I used to write one at all. There are so many things worth documenting in our busy lives that I wonder how I could have ever stopped? Well, it’s time to change that. Without further ado, I present our Segeberg Scoop—February 2013, (and some catch up and January, too).

We’ll start with Tanner. Since the beginning of the year, Tanner has started officially crawling. For a while, we called him our “carpet swimmer” since his version of scooting around looked like he was swimming the breast stroke on the floor. It was incredibly cute. Within the past month or so, he went from primarily swimming to primarily crawling on all fours. He has also been pulling up to his knees, with and without furniture, for a while now. (And just this week, he has started occasionally pulling to a full stand!) One of his favorite places to crawl to (and pull up at) is underneath the computer desk. Tanner recently started trying table foods. He loves cheese, but it doesn’t seem to love him for now. But pears, apples, bread, and crackers are some of his favorites. He has also been trying to mimic a few signs—“daddy” ends up as a palm to the forehead, “mommy” is a palm to the chest, and for “cereal,” he holds out a fist of wiggly fingers. It’s cute to watch him try to figure out how to make his body do what he wants it to. Even when he’s frustrated or unhappy, he’s got a ready smile for ANYONE who happens to look. He’s generally a happy little guy and we love his sweet little personality.

Clayton is next. Last year, Clayton was in a music class once a week. He would sing the songs at home, but would very rarely participate when we went to class. After much discussion, Ryan and I decided to try something else for him this year. We signed him up for a little gym class and he LOVES it. During the first class, they gave him a t-shirt, (red, his favorite color), and he wore it for nearly a week straight. He doesn’t particularly love the circle time, (will often just stand and watch), but the rest of the class is a blast. He begs to stay longer every. single. week. We’re glad he’s loving it so much. Clayton also moved into the Sunbeam class in January. He was not excited about going to Primary. He cried and begged me to stay. After staying with him for shorter amounts of time during Opening Exercises, last week, he finally went without much drama. It was a momentous day for him. (Although I didn’t let him know—I was glad the drama was over!) We’re also thinking about potty training Clayton. I signed him up for preschool next fall and one of the requirements is that the kids are potty trained. We hope he’ll start thinking along those same lines soon. (I am definitely tired of changing his diapers!)

Whitney is in the middle of her kindergarten year. She loves school. I recently had her second “parent-teacher conference” and her teacher couldn’t say enough good about Whitney. She is succeeding at all of her basics and is very much a helper in class. Whitney was also the Student of the Month in February. (Although she didn’t tell me about the papers in her backpack and I missed the assembly where she was honored. I was so sad!) The academic aspects of school are fun, but she’s definitely in it for the social. Whitney is such a social butterfly that it’s hard to imagine that she’s an introvert. (She does HAVE to have down time to process life, though.) This year, Whitney started piano. She (for the most part) enjoys practicing and playing. She recently started with a new teacher and seems to like that so far as well. Whitney also has started really reading. Last summer, she completely had the ability to read, but just wouldn’t. Over the past few months, she has decided that she CAN read and does it all the time. I love this shift in her abilities and confidence. Whitney still loves to imagine. She and Clayton love to play “Jake and the Neverland Pirates” (he’s Jake, she’s Izzy) or “babies” (they are each the parent of their own baby). I love watching them play together.

Kallie is a confident second grader. She, too, loves school. Her teacher also had a lot of good things to say at her parent-teacher conference. If we ever wonder where Kallie is or what she’s doing, chances are she’s reading a book. Last summer, she read the entire Little House on the Prairie series and LOVED it. In fact, she loved it so much that if I suggest something “like Laura,” Kallie is on board. She is even planning on having a “Little House on the Prairie” birthday party in a few months. Kallie is also currently my right hand girl. During the “witching hours”—between when the boys get up from naps and when Ryan gets home—she is a great helper with Tanner. Kallie has been taking piano lessons for a year and a half now, (we switched Kallie and Whitney to a new teacher at the same time). She is really picking it up and quite enjoys it, in spite of her occasional frustrations about some part or another being “so hard.”

Being an adult can be kind of mundane, as exhibited by Ryan’s and my updates. Ryan’s recent excitement was getting an R/C car for his birthday. The kids have also really enjoyed that gift, although they don’t really get to drive it. They just enjoy spending time outside with dad while he runs his car up and down our street. He also passed his 4 year mark at Microsoft in January. This may seem like small potatoes, but that’s the longest he’s been with a company so far, (thank you college and grad school). He is still serving as the Scout Committee Chair in our ward.

As for me, after a year-long opportunity to work with our ward choir, I was recently called back to the Young Women’s organization…this time, as first counselor. This was FANTASTIC news, as I have really missed being in there with those girls. I love being part of the YW and being able to watch the girls as they grow in their understanding of the gospel. It’s an amazing place to be! My other big event from February is that I bought tickets for Ryan and me to meet his parents in the Baltics when their mission ends in August. I am beyond excited! I’ve reserved our apartments in both Tallinn and Riga…and hope to have Vilnius pegged down by the end of the week. It’s hard to believe that in 6 months, we will be home from that long-anticipated trip!

Well, there is our life in a nutshell. Hopefully future updates won’t be quite as long…

Liebster

I am honored to be nominated for the Leibster Blog Award from Heidi at Bartle Bulletin. If you haven't read her blog before, I HIGHLY recommend it. She is a fantastic writer and conveys the ins and outs of family life in a way that is very relatable and fun to read. Plus, your kid will never top her Gavin stories. ;)
 

As for the award, turns out that Leibster is a German word that means favorite.  This award is passed from one blogger to another as a way to tell them that you enjoy reading their blog--and they should keep it up!

 

To be honest, as I was scrolling through Heidi's post, I wondered if I was nominated. By the end, I convinced myself that surely I wasn't on the list. And then I kind of cringed when I saw my name because I wasn't sure I wanted to actually try to come up with 11 things and THEN 11 questions. But, it was so fun to be thought of and nominated that I decided to play along. Here's what I have to do:

1. Post 11 random things about myself.
2. Answer the 11 questions my nominator set for me.
3. Create 11 questions for my nominees.
4. Nominate 11 other bloggers with fewer than 200 followers (no tag-backs).
5. Go to each of their blogs to tell them about their nominations.

 

My 11 Things

1. I can touch my nose with the tip of my tongue.

2. My degree is in Family Science--and not because I was married, engaged, or even seriously dating someone during college. I simply find familial interactions fascinating.

3. I have had a scar above my left eyebrow for as long as I can remember. It has significantly faded, but there, nonetheless.

4. My husband is a few years younger than I am.

5. Until I met Ryan, I thought I would marry someone several years older.

6. I was homeschooled for 6-8 grades.

7.  One of my goals for this year is to hang pictures on my walls.

8. I've lived in my house for almost 3 years.

9. Pippin and I started Puppy Manners class on Wednesday. I think I will actually be able to enjoy my dog now.

10. I rarely do dishes or vacuum. Very rarely.

11. I haven't put my favorite nativity away yet. I usually like to leave it up anyway--but this year, it's not up on purpose. It just hasn't made it back into the boxes yet.

 

Heidi's 11 Questions
1. When was the last time you brushed your teeth? This morning. (Whew--thanks for asking today.)

2. How many days per week do you make your bed? On average? 0.

3. What does the last text you received say? "Ahhh pregnancy such an interesting ride"--from my pregnant sister.

4. If you could do anything you wanted for a day, what would that be? Travel on a plane to Hawaii to start a week-long vacation.

5. Are most of your friends real or virtual? Real. But probably not by a large margin.

6. With how many adults have you spoken in person today? 2, my husband being one of them.

7. What did you have for lunch (or your last meal) today? Quinoa salad with scrambled egg mixed in.

8. If you could go to lunch with anyone, with whom would you dine? My first thought was Rachel, my college roommate. I really just love talking to her.

9. Are you hungry yet? Or craving grown-up conversation? Not yet. But the day is still young.

10. If your toenails are painted, what color are they? Rockstar Pink, (that's what the bottle said).

11. What's your favorite Gavin story? Body surfing on the table with bananas.

 

And now for the lucky 11! (You know you want to!) These are in no particular order. They're just blogs that I love to stop by and read. I nominate the following bloggers, (linked unless they're private):

 

Mickelle at Scattered Sunshine

Katie at The Tylers

Kendra at The Pettit Family

Rachel at The Times of Rachel

Kristi at The Larsen's Whatever Blog

Mel at The Broadbent Fam

Jamie at JJREA

Erin at The Wells Family

Shannon at Bowling for Cute

Ashlee at konashkimsamalli

Rebecca at Love Like Crazy

 

Your 11 Questions

1. When was the last time you cried?

2. What is your favorite outfit?

3. What is your most recent triumph?

4. Where have you always wanted to visit, but haven't yet?

5. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

6. When you have 10 minutes of time to spare between responsibilities, what do you do?

7. What is your least favorite household chore?

8. What is the household chore you might actually look forward to?

9. What is your favorite kids' music?

10. What talent do you wish you had developed in your youth?

11. Without looking it up, what's your favorite go-to recipe?

 

Don't feel like you have to play along--but it would be fun for me to see your answers to my questions and your 11 things on your blog!