A Little Joy

This morning I had one of those rare quiet moments of joy.  My baby, who is now four years old, quietly crept into our bed at 5 am.  Unlike any of our other kids who, when they would come in the early hours of morning, would never go back to sleep, this one does. He usually is up because he needs to use the restroom but then he gets back in bed and goes peacefully back to sleep.  When it's early morning time like that, if I try to put him back in his own bed, he usually doesn't go back to sleep and gets up for the day, walking others up in the process.  So I let him snuggle up to me. 

He was so sweet, lying there, right up next to me. He was completely asleep, but he had laid his hand on my arm before drifting back and told me, "I love you, Mom." My heart was just bursting with joy and I just wanted to hug him fiercely but I didn't because I didn't want to wake him up. I drifted back to sleep also.

This little boy came at a time I wasn't ready for him. I didn't want to have more kids and was a little angry about the whole situation.  But even I, the one who struggles with belief in God's influence in my life, can admit that I think God knew I would need him.  He is such a calm, sweet spirit, always showing me love with hugs and kisses and whispering it to me.  He is reminding me about the joy of little ones in his excitement over the littlest things, like getting a snack he really likes.  I needed this in my life right now and I'm thankful for it.

The Pandemic Life

It's been six weeks since I last wrote.  We left on a long road trip only about ten days after I last wrote.  We drove to Arizona in one day and stayed for almost two weeks.  Then we drove to Southern California (the mountains up near Bakersfield).  We stayed there for three days and then drove up to Utah for a week.  My oldest son spent the summer (starting in May) working up there.  Part of the reason we went up there was to pick him up and bring him home so he could start summer band, since he made the leadership team. Not that it even matters because they've now canceled competition band for the year as well as his trip to Ireland for which he'd already paid about $2000.  He could have stayed an extra week.  We picked him up when we did because our extended family he was staying with was supposed to leave on a trip right after.  But their trip got canceled.  Of course, we had already made the plan though so we weren't able to change our leaving time to any later.  And then he got back and the leadership training he was supposed to have was changed to online and the whole marching season pretty much canceled.  Then we drove down to Arizona for a few more days before making the trek back to Texas.

We enjoyed our trip.  It was nice to see family (my parents, my husband's brother, two of his sisters, their families, his mom, my brother in Utah and his family, an aunt and uncle of mine and several cousins of mine).  I also got to see two of my old friends, one who was a roommate of mine in college and then I also spent a lot of time with when we lived in Arizona and a family in Utah that we became close with just before we moved to Texas.  Life was the same everywhere though.    Masks are worn; everything is closed but Walmart it seems.  When we drove home to Texas, we drove it in one day also.  We left at 3:30 am in Arizona (Texas time that is 5:30 am) and drove straight through until 11:30 pm Texas time.  It was a long day but we did it.  We didn't want to stop and worry about a hotel. 

We are not worried about covid19.  A lot of people are.  There is enough evidence out there that points to it not being very dangerous for most people.  I also believe that most people have to get it for it to finally die down.  That is the nature of diseases like this; they only really stop being a problem after so many people have had it.  If we continue at the rate we are going though, it will be 40 years before we get herd immunity (70% of people) since after 7 months of it being known (although I've been reading a lot of theories that it has existed for a lot longer than 7-8 months), only 1% of all people have been infected.  If we need to reach 70% at this rate, it will take 40 years. I know, that's about as insane a guess as the original projection that it would kill millions in a matter of months.  That hasn't happened, the death rate is closer to 1%.  So only 1% of people have been infected and only 1% of those infected have died from it (at least according to the numbers I crunched yesterday posted on the CDC website of the numbers in America, specifically Texas).  There are many articles all over claiming that the numbers have been overinflated and people have died of other causes but it's been counted as a covid19 death because they tested positive for the virus at or just before death, that hospitals have an overwhelming amount of covid19 patients, but anyone coming to the hospital for anything (like my  husband when he had surgery in April) are tested for covid19 and if they test positive, they are counted as a covid19 hospitalization, and so forth.  It's hard to know what to believe.  So far, I know of about ten people total who have contracted the illness, all mild and some with no symptoms at all.  I do know one person who supposedly died from covid19 (he had it at the time of his death) but he was not a healthy person--obese, heart problems, diabetes.  It could have complicated one of his underlying issues or the underlying issue complicated the covid19 (this is still not clear in how they are counting the deaths).  It is sad he died; I knew him in high school and he was a very kind, good-hearted person.  Although, I'm not sure he would have had any clue who I was.  I know people have been dying, and maybe their deaths were premature, but I'm not sure about that.  If this is all part of God's plan, wouldn't that lead one to believe (one who is God-believing, that is) that their dying must have been part of His plan if He is in control? 

This is where I struggle.  The prophet and his apostles have all said that we will get through this pandemic and things will normalize.  But it just keeps going and going.  Schools are starting online in the fall in a lot of places.  So far our district still has an on-campus option.  I'm crossing my fingers and praying (and writing letters to the superintendent) that this will not change and those of us who are not scared can send our kids to school.  Teaching piano in person is probably not going to happen.  I applied for a job coaching gymnastics, but one of their coaches tested positive, so the gym closed.  They told me they wanted me for the job but then they never called me and I figure it's because of the covid.  It's a frustrating time to be alive; that's for sure.  I don't understand shutting everything down because a person tests positive, nor quarantining people for weeks because someone they know and came in close contact with ONCE tested positive.  It's getting completely ridiculous.  All for a virus with a 1% death rate and that has only infected 1% of the population so far.

It's not a very happy way to live, to feel like people think you have the virus if all you do is cough because you breathed in your own saliva (something I tend to do way too often, it's so stupid!) or you're sneezing because your allergies are acting up and everybody gives you the stinkeye because they think you have the virus.  I don't even smile out in public anymore.  There's no point.  People can't see my mouth anyway and since I don't look directly at them anymore (nobody does anymore), it's pointless.  I have to scream when I'm trying to order food at a restaurant or picking up medication at the pharmacy or talking to a cashier at the store because everyone has masks and the cashiers and pharmacists and fast food places all have plastic up everywhere.  It's insane.  When I have to go out, I come home feeling very upset and frustrated.

Part of me hopes I catch it and die then I don't have to live like this anymore. And so that my brother who told me I'll probably catch it and die will feel bad for saying that to me.  In all of the reading and studying I've done of the gospel and of life lately, I've come to the conclusion that death will be a beautiful relief after life's pain and misery.  Death just doesn't scare me at all.  I only don't want to go yet because I feel like my children probably still need me.  Although, on that topic, I could write a whole other post about how I'm failing terrifically at being their mother, so there's that.  I could die and my husband could remarry someone who is more together and she could probably do a better job.

Well, I guess I'll end my rambling now.  Just needed to vent and get some thoughts out.  Good night!

Checking In

I just wanted to check in.  I realize that my last post was a doozer, but I just had to get out in writing some of the feelings and thoughts I'd been having.  I still feel the same way.  But life keeps on moving along anyway and that's just what it does. 

One of the things I am struggling with is finding time for myself to do things I enjoy.  I feel like I just don't have the luxury of that kind of time.  I'm so busy teaching preschool and piano and taking care of kids and managing the household that there really  isn't time for me to do what I enjoy and there certainly isn't money.  But writing is one thing that has always been an outlet for me so I'd like to continue to write.  I just don't know how often I'll get to it. 

Other things I enjoy that I haven't done much of lately:  playing the violin, reading, drawing and painting, playing sports and exercising, and getting outside. 

I did try playing volleyball for church back in the fall.  I made an effort to make it to the games even when I wasn't feeling up to it or it was late and I was tired.  Then, I went to one game where we played a double header, two games in one night.  The first game they had plenty of women there and they won.  I wasn't able to make it to the first game because it was too early and it was the same night as Jonah's first grade program (I believe that was the conflict).  So I made it in time for the second game.  While I was waiting for the game to start, some of the other women were talking about how they had enough people to play and one even said that they didn't really need me.  So I left. I like volleyball, but I don't love it.  It's more fun when you enjoy the people you are playing with as well, and these women in my ward...they just aren't very nice to me.  At least not the majority of the ones who play volleyball. Now I know I'm not the best player and could use some improvement, but I'm not really that horrible either.  And I like to play sports (though basketball is the one I prefer--but our stake doesn't let the women play basketball).  But if you tell me to my face that I'm not needed, when I made the effort after my long, exhausting day (Thursdays are rough--three hours of preschool in the morning and then three hours of piano in the afternoon, plus the kid's program and dinner and bedtime and now it's 9:30 at night and I drove 20 minutes to get here), then I guess I just will no longer participate.  I've never been one to back out of participating in a church-sponsored activity, but they pushed me away.  I'm sure they don't care.  But I will have a hard time forgetting how I was treated.

That was a side story that just came out.  Anyway, I'm working on trying to find the time to do a few things I like every week.  It's hard.  I'm usually too tired to do anything more than turn the TV on and doze off.  But maybe if I work on this, I will have a brighter outlook.  It's worth a try.

Hopeless

I am in a really dark place right now and see no hope of any light.  I'm writing this because I have to get this out somewhere.  I don't feel like there is anyone in this world whom I can discuss these feelings with because they either end up telling me all the things that are wrong with me and these thoughts I keep having or they try to fix me.  I don't need to be fixed.  Changed, maybe.  But if you're going to try and fix me, it's a lost cause.  Mostly, I just need a listening ear.  Maybe some hope.  Because hope is not something I feel right now.  The world through my eyes right now is bleak and hopeless.  And I'm writing this here because I doubt anybody ever looks at what I write any more.    So it most likely won't get read.

When I was first married, I knew we'd have tough times financially.  And so we did.  And still are.  When my husband first went into management, there were levels, or steps.  When he was at the lowest level of management, there was hope.  Times were hard financially, but the promotion was always around the corner and things could improve.  But now, well, he's at the top for now.  Unless he sets different goals to move up even more, which wasn't ever in the plan, he is stuck at what he is making now.  We've had our ups and downs with debt (more downs than up, but anyway), and currently we are in a major down.  We came awfully close to paying off a lot and then we had about six different things happen that we couldn't pay for but couldn't live without (hello, hot water and air conditioning in the hot, humid South) and racked up the credit card again.  Now we are worse off than ever.  Since his salary isn't going to improve anytime soon, we are stuck.  Stuck in a rut of debt and not enough income.  So now I have to do something.

I looked at my options.  I'm trained as a teacher, but I don't hold a current teaching credential/license/whatever you call it these days in my state.  To get one, I'd need to fork over more money (that I don't have) and take about three big tests (that I'm not prepared for, having been out of school for 17 years).  I could get a job where my husband works and work opposite shifts as him (not at his location, at another one), but I crunched numbers and figured that unless I do that full time, it won't bring in enough extra to really make a dent.  So I decided to try and do a home preschool.  I'm trained as a teacher; I've worked with the primary grades and taught my own kids in preschool, and I have even taught others.  I'm pretty good at it, actually.  But home preschool where I live is an anomaly. Here, they confuse the distinction between a "preschool", which is an early learning program designed to prepare a child for formal school and usually begins the year before said school, sometimes two years, and "daycare/childcare", which is when children are taken care of while their parents both work, sometimes the program involves enrichment to keep children stimulated and sometimes it does not.  This includes children of all ages, many of whom are babies up to school age (because when they get to school age, they are then at school for much of the day and there is no longer a need for full time childcare.  Also confusing is the notorious "mother's day out" where a parent drops their child off for a few hours a couple times a week so they can have a break, and sometimes the program can be more enriching and academically stimulating than other times.  At these, generally speaking, children play games and do crafts, but they are not designed to prepare the child for formal schooling.  Since all of these terms are used interchangeably where I live, things can get pretty confusing.  I'm not required to have a business license to run a home preschool or even a child care license if I have less than 13 students.  But potential clients are always asking about these things and it is often a deterrent when I don't have such a thing.

The other thing I do is teach piano lessons.  I charge a lot less than most private music lessons cost around here.  There are two reasons for this.  Number one is that I was never formally trained in the piano myself. I had a brief stint of private lessons right around the third grade, again in tenth grade, and then one semester in college.  For the most part, though, I am self-taught.  That isn't to say that I don't know music and can't play well, because I am actually pretty good considering I am self taught.  And I did have several years of private violin lessons, plus played for several years in school orchestras, and I spent several years in school choirs and church choirs.  So I do know quite a bit about music theory and techniques and can teach beginning and intermediate lessons.  But if I were questioned on my background, I feel like students (okay, their parents) would be less than willing to pay a steeper price for someone so unclassically trained.  The second reason is because I understand.  I understand what it is like to have very little money to spend on such things and want to be able to help people have a child in music lessons who otherwise couldn't be if they had to pay more.  This might be the wrong approach, I don't know.  It seems there are people who would put their children in music lessons no matter the cost and then there are people who will only do it at the right price.  I guess my target market is the latter, which I think is broader, but charging less than the norm around here makes some people think I don't know what I'm doing. 

The problem with these things is, that while they bring in income (and, I might add, after crunching numbers, more than I could make part time at most other jobs) and allow me to be home with my kids, they also make me very trapped.  I am tied to a very strict schedule.  I can't go anywhere or plan anything on Mondays from 3-5:30, Tuesdays from 9-12 and 3-6, Wednesdays from 9-12 and Thursdays from 9-12 and 3-5:30.  This includes kids' activities and programs.  Gymnastics class is only at 4 pm on Tuesday?  Unless I can arrange a ride there and back, my daughter can't do it.  Child number five has a school program on Thursday at 5:30?  Well, I will either not make it or be late.  And try scheduling doctor, dentist, and orthodontist appointments for seven kids and two adults when the only times you have to work with are Monday mornings and Wednesday afternoons (can't do early afternoons because of baby's nap schedule).  Fridays are okay, except neither the dentist nor the orthodontist see patients on Fridays.  At least the doctor does (so far).

This is where I get all cranky.  I have a serious problem with coveting and jealousy, specifically over this lack of freedom.  I look at my family members who are in better places financially and envy, to a huge degree, the enormous amount of freedom their blessed finances have allowed them.

I hate going into all the beautifully decorated, airy and spacious homes around here for activities or visits and then having to return to my home, which seems so dark and dingy and ugly when I return.  I hate that things never seem to get any better for us.  No, we aren't perfect and we make a lot of mistakes but I feel like we are punished endlessly for our financial mistakes.  And I feel enormous guilt over the things we can't afford to do for our children--for the band trips they won't get to take, for the school shirts and yearbooks they won't get to own, for the memories they won't get to make because we can't afford to go anywhere other than to visit family in other states (and only that every few years).

I wish we could figure out how to get out of debt, stay out of debt, and stop incurring more debt, but with nine mouths to feed, I find that an impossible task.  Yes, I've read all the financial books people always so aptly suggest.  I've looked into programs to figure it out.  But I've never been able to sit down with someone who can look over our budget and tell us what to do tailored to us, and also give us advice on what to do when an emergency comes up that we can't pay for.  Last year when our water heaters went out (yes, both of them), we had to pay $1100 per unit to replace them, and that was WITH a home warranty.  What are we supposed to do because we can't pay for it out of pocket--go without hot water until we can?  Well, it's a year later and at this point, we still wouldn't have been able to come up with $2200.  Same thing happened with the AC.  I know, we are supposed to have a savings account that will cover at least 3 months of bills plus anything else that could potentially go wrong.  So let's see, we're supposed to have $18,000 to cover three months of bills + $2200 for the unexpected water heater deaths + $1500 for the unexpected air conditioning death + $5300 for the homeowners' deductible for when things like hailstorms hit, so in savings from the day we bought this house we should have had $27,000.  So unless we had at least that in our savings account, we probably should not have bought this house?  Well, why wasn't there anyone there to tell us that was the amount we needed?  And even then, who could have foreseen that we'd be bringing in nearly $30,000 less per year only a few years down the road from when we purchased the home?   Any money we did have in savings has been drained from using it to just pay regular bills because  our income has decreased.  Typically, managers make more every year, not less, so this is unusual for his work.  How could we have predicted this?  We did have some savings but it is mostly gone now. 

We try.  We do.  We aren't perfect and sometimes we buy things that we shouldn't, I know that.  I feel horrible guilt anytime I buy anything at all, actually.  Even groceries.  Even gas for my car.  If I happen to buy my child new (okay, used from the thrift store or a Facebook seller site) shoes, I feel terrible guilt that I spent money when I have debt.  Yes, I know more than anyone can tell me how debt is bondage.  I KNOW!  I KNOW!  That's why I want to change it.  But I feel like until I no longer have growing children who NEED things, the possibility of ever ending this depression-and-anxiety-inducing cycle is ZERO.

And so I am hopeless.  I feel nothing but darkness.  There is no light at the end of my tunnel.  Only darkness.  Why should Heavenly Father care about me and my self-induced problems?  Since I (we--it's my spouse too, though I seem to bear the burden entirely on  my shoulder because he just isn't bogged down by the problem like I am) have made financial mistakes, I must bear the consequences of my choices and never have another monetary blessing again until I have paid for my actions.  Which will take a lifetime.  I feel like I need to just accept that I will be in this horrible financial situation forever.  I even try to do that sometimes, but then I see how blissful everyone else is who have so many resources at their fingertips and feel so hopeless because I will never have that.  It's drudgery. 

And I have been called toxic because I can't get past these feelings of hopelessness and self-hate.  I can't even bear to be around other people because I end up feeling so much more hopeless.    I am worthless, hopeless and don't see any way out of these feelings.

Loving Our Babies

I just love this squishy little guy.  I admit, I had a hard time during my pregnancy with the idea that I was having another child.  I love my children and I knew I would love this baby too, but I really didn't want any more kids because I was already feeling quite overwhelmed with the six I had plus my sixth is a major handful and there are many, many days that I wish I could put her in a strait jacket.

But this chunk of chubbiness has absolutely stolen my heart (for the seventh time).  He is just such a sweet baby.  He's happy almost all the time and so fascinated by the world around him.  He loves his Spider-man and several other toys to the point that when we show him the toy, he gets excited and laughs and waves his hands around.  I absolutely love listening to the older kids making him laugh--it has to be one of my most favorite sounds in the world.

With this baby, I have done a lot of thinking.  It seems these days that hardly a day goes by without some news story popping up on my social media feed about some parent or step-parent or boyfriend of a mom abusing some baby or toddler.  These stories break my heart and make me feel both sad and angry at the same time. 

There are times when my little one won't stop crying and fussing.  He's sick or tired or hungry or bored or all of the above.  He wants my undivided attention, which is often hard to give him with all the chaos in our house.  There are times that his cries are maddening to listen to, but then when I pick him up to see what he might need, he instantly calms.  His chubby little hands grip my arm or my neck or my face and he pulls me close and gives me a slobbery tongue kiss (yes, that's what I call it because he sticks his tongue out, but I'm pretty certain he's trying to kiss us). 

He relies on us for EVERYTHING.  These little ones come to us not even able to hold up their own heads or control their own bodies.  Unlike other animals in the animal kingdom, human babies are completely reliant on their parents to take care of them.  They have to be held, fed, and changed.  They have to have social interaction to learn social cues and develop an understanding of human emotions and behavior.  Other animals can find their own food, walk on their own, and aren't as reliant on the parent for as long when they are babies.  But human babies take a year or more to learn to walk, months to hold up their heads, roll around, scoot and crawl.  Even grasping small items takes months and feeding themselves can take more than a year, sometimes two.

Why do you suppose that these little humans come to us with such neediness?  I have always believed (ever since I took a child development class in college) that human babies come to us this way to force us to love them and care for them and learn to serve them.  If they came to us already doing all those things, we could easily let them fend for themselves, but because they rely on us for everything, we are forced to take care of them. 

Every time I start to feel annoyed or anxious because I don't know why my baby is fussing, I try to remember that he just needs me.  There will be a time he won't need me as much but right now, I can hold him in my rocking chair during the night if he has an upset tummy and let him sleep on my shoulder.  I can snuggle with him instead of washing the dishes because he needs me right then.  He needs a diaper change, a bottle, or just to be held and played with, so it's my job as his parent to provide that for him.  When I chose to have a child, I chose to be his caretaker and provider and make sure that he has what he needs from me.  Heavenly Father intended it to be this way.  It's all part of His plan.

And who can resist?  Look at those chubby cheeks and fat little hands!

Chore Workshop

A few weeks ago, I noticed that my children had really started slacking off on their chores.  What does a manager or boss do when their employees start slacking off?  They retrain!  So I thought it would be a good idea to hold a chore workshop to retrain the kids on how to do the chores correctly for a job well done.

I  have written about my chore system before.  Since then, I have added a child to the system and adjusted the chores so that the "laundry/garbage" chore is now divided into "laundry" and "garbage".  I also no longer do tokens for earning video game minutes.  I will briefly summarize.  We rotate through the chores on a weekly basis.  Each regular weekly chore has a Saturday chore, which is more difficult and involved, attached to it.  It was mostly the Saturday chores that the kids were slacking on, but while we were retraining them, we touched briefly on the weekly job as well.

A few years ago, I printed out checklists for each chore, including regular weekday chores and Saturday chores.  I laminated them and bought several Vis-a-vis markers to use on the charts.  Here is an example of one of the charts:

For our chore workshop, which really sounds more involved than it was, we divided up who was teaching what.  My husband is very particular about  how the sweeping and mopping gets done for the table setter's Saturday chore, so he took that chore.  Since the other part of the downstairs involves sweeping and swiffering, he took that one too (see above picture).  Another Saturday chore is vacuuming, and he took that one as well.  I trained on bathroom cleaning and "dog duty", which involves picking up the poop in the backyard, and they didn't need retraining on that, and dusting the whole house, including the wooden part of the stairs, which holds the banister.

We got started bright and early--7 am.  Our plan was to finish by 9 am and eat donuts.  I started by training the kids on the downstairs bathroom.  All of our bathrooms are full bathrooms and require the same procedure, except our master bathroom has a big jetted tub and shower that are separate and the other two bathrooms have the shower/tub combination.  I will probably still have to review our bathroom with each kid just because there is a little more work involved.  They all stood in the bathroom doorway (the five older kids, Dad hung out with the younger two) and watched while I explained step-by-step, asking questions and checking for understanding.  I  had some of them do some of the steps too.  It took about 20 minutes.  We also pointed out the time and reminded them that if it takes twenty minutes per bathroom (and that was with me stopping and explaining things), then it should take them about 1 hour to do all three bathrooms.

After finishing with the downstairs bathroom, I reviewed dusting with them, showing them what needed to be dusted in all of the rooms.  Then my husband took over and had them pick up toys and clutter off the floors so he could sweep, mop, swiffer and vacuum.  He then showed them what those chores entailed.  After we were done with our demonstrations, some of the kids had parts of their chores left, like the other two bathrooms needed finishing and rugs, chairs, and other items needed to be put back into place.

We also reviewed the steps for Saturday room cleaning and daily room cleaning, for which I also have charts hanging in each of their rooms.  Here is that chart:

This week we sat down and had breakfast before doing our chores.  As we ate breakfast, I reminded them each of what their chore was and pulled out the charts to review.  I will probably make a pocket of some sort to keep the Saturday chore lists on a wall somewhere so that all they have to do on Saturday is go pull their chore and follow the checklist.  The bathroom checklist stays with the bathroom cleaning supplies  in the carrier.  The room cleaning and bed making lists are hanging on their doors.

One nice thing about this was that I was able to see what revisions I needed to make that were unique to this house or that I've added or done away with for each chore.  So in the coming week I am planning to edit the ones that need changing and print and laminate the updated charts.

I feel that teaching and training our children this way sets clear expectations and prepares them for when they have a job outside the house.  I feel that teaching children how to work and working with them is an important part of childhood that often gets overlooked and even frowned upon in our modern culture.  But my kids really rose to the challenge and did an excellent job on their chores this week.  I even went grocery shopping with the younger two while the other five were working on chores and came home to a mostly clean house, with a few exceptions.  It was fantastic!  And my kids felt so great about their accomplishments.

Why This is Hard

Village Baker.  Brick Oven.  BYU Creamery.  Proximity to mountains, BYU, seven temples no more than an hour away, Temple Square, Salt Lake Cemetery.  Sunrise over the mountains.  Sunset over the mountains.  Dry air. 

These are all things I miss about Utah.  Sure, I didn't go to some of those places on a regular basis, but knowing I could anytime I wanted to was nice.  I miss seeing BYU shirts and flags and license plates.  I miss the springtime in Utah, when everything is in bloom and the mountains are starting to green up.  I know I will miss the summer--hot, dry days interspersed with thunderstorms and cool, dry nights. 

I also really miss the small town feel that pretty much all of Utah, even Salt Lake City, has.  I miss watching the local news of Utah because you realize how much sense of community is in Utah by watching the news.  Here, the area is so huge and the news broadcast covers so much that things that would be big news in Utah, with people reaching out and comforting are glazed over as if they are nothing here.

And the weather!  Utah weather can be pretty crazy in the spring time, flipping back and forth between 80 degree days and 20 degree days, sometimes with snow, sometimes with thunderstorms, and almost always windy.  But you never had to worry much about things like golfball sized hail and what to do with your car that day because you can't park it in the garage.

I also miss certain friends.  People who were real friends that don't come along all that often.  I can think of four people who really fit this bill there in Utah.  I don't really know how to make friends like that; they just happen.  So far, nothing yet, nothing even promising.  People here are really nice.  They are very welcoming.  But nice people aren't the same as true friends.  The saddest thing, which has always happened when I've moved in my life, is that it's hard to maintain those friendships.  I think it's harder now with social media.  Before social media, you had to make an effort.  Now, you just follow their profile and there is no need for letters.  But there is no depth either, not without a lot more effort.


Right now, I can't find anything better about living here than about living in Utah.  It hasn't been bad, but it hasn't been anything to rave about. 


I worry constantly that my kids are missing opportunities.  Money went a lot further in Utah.  I find that ironic in a way because a lot of people here talk about how cheap it is to live here, even the others who moved from Utah.  I don't know how that is possible.  With property taxes so high, we had to buy a lot less house to afford monthly payments.  Kids' activities are really expensive and cost much more than in Utah.  And the expectation here is that if they don't start by age four, then you might as well not put them in because they will be way too far behind their peers.

The culture is different.  All day kindergarten for all and the attempt to force mandatory pre-K on all too.  I wanted to teach a preschool out of my home, but I was thinking of doing something that is three hours a day, three days a week for 4-year-olds and two-and-a-half hours a day, two days a week for 3-year-olds.  But here, the expectation is that preschool will be at least five hours and at least three days a week, which includes lunch.  I can't even fathom what you do with 3-year-olds for five hours in a "class".  These cultural differences bother me a lot and I don't really know what to do about them.  If I stick to my guns, my kids will be ostracized and so will I, but I really can't get behind putting kids in sports at age four and all day preschool that young either.

I am just having a hard time living in a place that demands my kids go to all day kindergarten and mostly all day preschool, play sports as young as four, and requires that I pay to volunteer, both at school and through church.

So I will have to be content with finding joy in the really small things...like using two ovens to cook with at the same time, like my son having the great same band director my brothers had, like so far, I don't have to go to work to help earn the income and we're managing things, even though it's stressful.  I am able to still do my sewing and grateful that, despite having been told otherwise before we moved, I'm able to find sewing materials at my favorite place to shop for them--Walmart.  I'm grateful that so far, we haven't had much of a pest problem in our house.  Okay, birds in the chimney and rabbits in the backyard and a spider here and there inside, but otherwise, no roaches or ants in the house yet.

I do love living so close to family.  Five minutes away is the closest I've ever lived as an adult to family.  When we lived in Arizona, my parents were a 45-minute drive away.  In Utah, my brother(s) in Provo were forty minutes away and the one in Sandy was twenty minutes.  We live close enough that if we are all still here in ten to fifteen years and everyone still has kids in public school, they will attend the same high school.  That's pretty fun. 

It's also fun seeing familiar faces from my youth.  This Saturday is a celebration of my old elementary school's fifty year anniversary and if I go, I'm sure I will see a few faces I recognize. 

I will try to keep looking for the good things.  That's about all I can do.

Cooking: Secrets to Saving Money

By today's standards, I cook for a large family of eight people. Because I have so many people to cook for, I have to budget wisely because food can get expensive. Recently, I have been having a lot of success with spending less than $100/week in my grocery category of the budget. I've had people ask me how it's possible, so I thought I'd devote a blog post to it.

Menu Planning
The first thing I do is menu plan.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, every day for seven days. I have a notebook that is my grocery notebook.  Each time I make a list, I use one page.

On the side, in the margin, I list the days of the week.  I write down next to the day what shift my husband is working because that will often determine what the dinner meal will be (something simpler and that makes smaller portions will be designated for nights he is working, etc.).

Dinners
Dinners are the meals I specifically plan each week.  I plan for a main dish.  My side dishes are almost always the same.  For my dinners, I look at what I already have in the fridge and pantry and then check the grocery store circulars to see what is on sale.

For example, this week's grocery trip (for next week's meals), I planned these meals:
Sunday--cheesy potato soup
Monday--pulled pork sandwiches
Tuesday--chicken rice
Wednesday--lasagna bake
Thursday--Hawaiian haystacks
Friday--pizza
Saturday--chicken pasta

Sunday.  I already have potatoes in the pantry and my soup takes 4-5 potatoes.  If I didn't have potatoes, they were on sale for a 10 lb bag for 99¢.  I buy chicken broth, sometimes I buy an extra carton to have on hand for the future (food storage).  The chicken broth I buy, which is just the generic store brand usually, is $1.86 for the 32 oz carton, which I use the whole thing.  I can often find the same size carton of organic chicken broth at a neighboring grocery store for about the same price, often cheaper.  I happen to have about one pound left of a 3-pound bag of shredded cheddar, which I will use about two handfuls of for the soup.  The other ingredients are water, onions (I keep a bag of frozen diced onion in the freezer), milk and flour.  I like to add ham chunks or bacon, if I have them on hand, which I do, so I will use those too.

Monday.  The pulled pork is actually left over pork from a pork roast I made last week.  I had so much left over that after the meal, I shredded it and put it in the freezer.  I will use this in the crock pot with BBQ sauce, which I already have in my pantry (part of my food storage item that I like to stock up on).  I will make my own buns.

Tuesday.  I have chicken in the freezer that I bought last week and never used.  Sometimes my meal plan doesn't quite work out and we eat leftovers an extra night or do a breakfast-for-dinner or even stop and grab a $5 Little Caesar's pizza if we have a busy night.  Usually I foresee the busy night by planning ahead but sometimes plans don't work out quite right.  So I will use the chicken I already have, which I bought for $1.69/lb on sale (fresh, skinless, boneless chicken breasts in a family pack--I section it out to one to two pieces per package and package it for the freezer when I get home).  I bought Rice-a-roni for $1 for the box.  I will use one chicken breast, baked and cut up into chunks for this recipe plus the box of Rice-a-roni, prepared as instructed.

Wednesday. Lasagna bake.  I actually grabbed a Banquet brand "Homestyle Bake" of Lasagna for $3 the other day because it looked good.  We may hate it and generally I steer clear of pre-packaged meals like this, but it was a whim and not too expensive.  I do have a lasagna toss recipe that is really easy that I have used that is not too expensive and this will probably end up being a similar dish.

Thursday.  Hawaiian haystacks.  I already have white rice, frozen chicken (I will use two breasts for this recipe), and chow mein noodles.  I will cook two chicken breasts in the crock pot with two cans cream of chicken soup (generic brand--69¢ each).  I shred the chicken and serve this sauce over sticky white rice with toppings such as chow mein noodles, sliced tomatoes, olives, diced ham, green onions, and shredded cheddar cheese.  I always buy things like tomatoes and diced ham and green onions and the cheddar cheese I already have.

Friday.  Pizza Day!  I make my own pizza almost every Friday.  It's a tradition.  The dough recipe is quite easy and I make it in my Bosch.  I buy pizza sauce (generic store brand-$1.14/jar), pizza cheese blend or make my own with mozzarella and cheddar, and pepperoni and other toppings.  I keep a lot of these on hand because I make it every week, so I rarely have to buy the ingredients.  This week, I had to buy pepperoni ($2.98), sauce (I'm cleaning out the pantry in preparation for the move and had used the last of my storage), and flour ($1.78--same reason as with the sauce, low on storage right now).

Saturday.  Chicken pasta.  This is the same as the chicken rice, only with pasta-roni.  One of the kids' favorites.  I have tried to make my own pasta sauce for this, but the pasta-roni just tastes better.  It's only about $1 per box and if my husband is home, I will buy the Family size or two boxes, but with just the kids and me, one box is usually enough.

I often do leftovers on Saturdays or the following Monday.  One of my favorite ways to serve leftovers is in the form of "Surprise Dinners", something my mom used to do.  You take each leftover, dish up a portion size into some foil, wrap the foil around it, and put them in the oven and heat them up that way.  Then the kids pick a foil and get a surprise on what they get.  In our family they are allowed a trade only if the other person is willing (not forced), and they can trade once.  Other than that, it's "You-get-what-you-get-and-you-don't-throw-a-fit". 

Sides
As I mentioned before, the sides are always the same.  I do a vegetable and a fruit.  The vegetable consists of something like steamed broccoli or green beans, sometimes a canned vegetable if I'm lazy, or a tossed salad (lettuce is usually cheap, so are carrots).  The kids don't care much for a lot of variety in the salad, so I make it with lettuce and carrots and shredded cheese.  I like to add my own cucumbers and tomatoes and other things, so I will often have those available on the side for those who want it (me).  They prefer steamed broccoli over everything else, so I always buy it when I can find it cheap (lately 99¢/pound). 

I like to make a fresh fruit salad by cutting up a few pieces of fruit, which vary by season.  Often, I can use one piece of each fruit, like one apple, one pear and one banana, to make the salad.  If apples are 89¢/pound, pears are the same, and bananas are 54¢/pound, that means that means apples and pears are about 30¢ each and a banana is about 25¢, then a fruit salad for one night costs about 85¢.  That is about $5.95/week for fruit salad.  However, I don't make the fruit salad every night.  Some nights we have canned fruit, like canned pears or peaches, and some nights (usually on Sundays) we have a jello salad with fruit in it.

Breakfasts
I generally don't plan specific breakfasts, but I do have a routine.  I have to give credit where credit is due...I learned this from my mom.  I alternate egg mornings and cereal mornings.  We have eggs in some form every other day and cereal on the other days during the week.  On Fridays and Saturdays, I like to make pancakes or waffles.  On Sundays, we usually have an egg casserole and muffins.  The eggs I make are scrambled (with and without cheese), fried, and hard-boiled or soft-boiled.  Occasionally we will have an egg-cheese-potato thing that my husband makes or omelets.  On the cereal days, we have oatmeal or cream-of-wheat first followed by a bowl of cold cereal.  Some days we have two bowls of cold cereal, something not as sweet first, like Cheerios or mini wheats, then a sweeter kind next.

Lunches
I don't exactly plan these either, but I do have to stock up on lunch foods.  My kids will take deli meat sandwiches in their lunches, since peanut butter is not allowed at their schools.  If it was, they'd probably take pb&j most days.  I buy roast beef, ham and turkey regularly and buy it again when we are out.  We were not out this week, so I didn't buy any.  I will buy a block of cheese on sale, otherwise they will go without cheese.  For lunches, then, I buy bread, deli meat, cheese (on occasion) and typically they take a piece of fruit (an apple).  I buy a LOT of apples and usually stop by the store once during the week to buy more apples.  They will take a dessert.  Sometimes I will buy Little Debbie desserts or cookies if I can find a good deal or know I won't be baking at all, but I try to bake some things like cookies and brownies for them to take.  They do buy a milk at school, which costs me $20/month for all four of them that are in school.  For us at home, we eat leftovers or sandwiches or sometimes I get creative and make quesadillas or mini pizzas.

I grocery shop on Friday for the next week.  I make my list based on the circulars and usually price match at Walmart but sometimes will go and find the item at the store where it is advertised.  Today, I spent $79 on groceries for next week, which was more than I wanted to.  I did buy a few extras that I didn't put on my list, like Little Debbie desserts (a good price) and  some paper towels that I saw and remembered we needed.  I will be spending more money on Monday for items from Costco (I hate Costco on Saturdays and didn't have a chance to get there today) that come from my grocery category--namely, milk ($5 for 2 gallons), bread (2 loaves for $4), and toilet paper (about $15).  So that will bump up my weekly total to about $110, since I need to buy four gallons of milk.  Still not too bad for a family of eight!

Change

There was a country song that played on the radio when I was in high school.  I never knew the artist, but I remember the chorus:

"The only thing that stays the same is
everything changes, everything changes.
Time marches on."

I am notoriously bad at change.  I don't like it, even if it's something very small.  My kids had to switch schools this year due to a boundary re-alignment in the school district.  You'd have thought my world was ending with how I handled it.  My kids...they were fine.  They already knew kids at the new school.  In fact, the boundary change was really for our benefit.  Since we moved here, the kids have gone to a different school than the majority of kids in the ward because of the wonky school boundary.  The change made sense, but I didn't like it.  We had been at that school for five years and it was a great school.  Nevermind that the other school was just as good.  I could only see the negatives.  The other school didn't have band.  Nevermind that I could just take my kids to the band at the old school.  Now that I am facing an even bigger change, an out-of-state move, only five months into the school year, I am realizing how stupid that all was.  I am really thick-headed sometimes.

Tonight I was driving home from a Thanksgiving dinner celebrated with my brother's family and his wife's family.  As I arrived at my house, the movie was still playing in the car DVD player and there was only a few minutes left, so I drove around the block to get to the end of the movie.  As I did so, I looked around at the neighborhood that I have grown to love. 

I realized that the majority of people who lived in this neighborhood when we first moved here no longer live in the neighborhood.  They moved on.  Most of them didn't move out of state, I'll grant you that, but they moved on despite the good school and the good ward and the good friends.  So why am I having such a hard time with it?

I have wanted to move back to Texas ever since I moved away from Texas in 1994.  Twenty years ago.  For twenty years I have been daydreaming about how great it would be to live in Texas.  But I've come to realize that all I ever had was a dream.  I didn't realize that in the time I'd left Texas, I had become a Utah girl at heart.  I had a hard time moving back to Utah, on the outside.  I put up a fight.  But on the inside, I think I was secretly glad to be back in Utah.  It's comfortable here.  The people are nice.  I really, really love how easy it is to access the LDS Church here in Utah.  I love the access to temples, the access to Salt Lake City, the access to BYU (Women's Conference, Aspen Grove Marriage Retreat, etc.).  I love how on Sundays, FM100 plays "Soft Sunday Sounds"--religious music, most of it made by Mormon songwriters and singers.  Driving along I-15 from Provo to Riverton at night, I pass four temples that I can see clearly from the freeway (Mt. Timpanogos, Draper, Jordan River, Oquirrh Mountain).  And the mountains!  Oh how I will miss these mountains!  I have lived in the mountainous west longer than I ever lived in Texas.  What was I thinking?

I know that Texas is a good place to live and there are great people there too, but I am broken-hearted about leaving this place that I have grown to really love.  And somewhat annoyed at myself for not having realized how I love it until it was too late and we were set to leave. 

Utah, you've been a good friend.  I will no longer be ashamed to say I have lived here.  I used to think it was better to tell people I was from Texas than Utah, but I no longer feel that way.  I will now tell people I am from Utah.  After all, I was born here.

Change, how I loathe you.  But I realize that things can't stay the same forever, as much as I wish they would.  Change is inevitable.  It's a fact of life.

Compassion in Our Modern World

Let me tell you a story.  On a warm summer morning, my husband was home from work, so I left the older kids with him to clean the house and the backyard and I took my baby with me on my errands.  I had to go to Costco, which was clear across town, the bank, and then stop at the grocery store on the way home.  We went to Costco first because I like to get my errands done in the order of the farthest distance from my house to the closest.  Then I hit the bank drive through, so we stayed in the car.  During this time, from Costco to the grocery store, my baby was quiet.  I was distractedly thinking about the other cars around  me (crazy that I was paying attention to the traffic, eh?) and thinking about other random things and not thinking about my kids or my husband.  Therefore, when I got to the grocery store, and my baby was asleep in her rear-facing car seat, I had forgotten that I had her with me on my errands.  My other kids weren't there to remind me to open the back doors of the car, and absent-mindedly and focused on my grocery shopping, I got out of my car and headed toward the store doors.  I was checking for my keys, my phone, my wallet, like I tend to do as I walk to the store and felt something was missing and then I remembered--my daughter!  So I went back to the car and got her out and took her in the store with me.  Phew!

This type of thing happens all the time.  It may not be a grocery trip or errand run.  It may be switching parents to drop the baby off at daycare or bringing groceries home and the baby is asleep so you let her sleep while you carry them in, but when you bring the last load in, you forget to go back out to the car to get the sleeping baby.  There are so many different ways this can happen.

Not only that, but there are other instances in which parents do things that might result in harm to their precious children.  For instance, maybe they put a video in to watch with their little ones and doze off because they are exhausted and they wake up to discover their toddler has gotten out of the house and gone into the road, or the ditch, or gotten tangled in a soccer net in the backyard.  Maybe Dad goes out to hitch up the trailer and Mom gets busy putting things away in the 4-year-old's room and doesn't realize Dad left the front door cracked and the 18-month-old has gotten outside to follow Dad and Dad doesn't know she's there and he backs the trailer over her.  Maybe Mom is nursing the new baby in the nursery and the older 2-year-old has climbed out of her crib for the very first time and up onto the dresser next to the crib in the upstairs bedroom and sees an open window and goes to look, pushes on the screen and falls two stories to her death.  Maybe you are visiting the grandparents, who have a pool, and are usually very careful about leaving the pool area locked and the outside doors locked, but your 3-year-old has figured out how to unlock the door and finds the pool gate open, so goes in, accidentally throws a ball in the pool, and then goes in after it.

All of these scenarios are real instances when parents that I have read about or even knew personally have done something, made either an error in judgment or a simple human error, a mistake, a forgotten check, and it has resulted in inexplicable tragedy.

Every single day, millions of parents put their little ones in harm's way when we strap them into our cars and take off down the road.  Sure, car seats have helped reduce the deaths, especially if the child is properly strapped in, but there are still accidents where children who are properly strapped into a car seat die.  Does that mean that every parent who puts their child into a car seat and drives away in the car should be charged with abuse or neglect or assault or whatever?  There is risk in everything we do and sometimes we don't even remember to do or not do something that results in a risky outcome.

That's why I am really tired of the way these parents are received by society when their story, their life-changing tragedy, their despair and grief, becomes news.

We say, "I would never do such a thing!"  "My children are my life and anybody who lets this happen to their child shouldn't have had children!"  "What kind of idiots are these people to let this happen to their child!  It would never happen to my child!"

The news story gets posted on a news website and then social media takes over, spreading it around the globe like wildfire with the purpose of stoning the parents or caregivers of the child who was lost, calling for nothing short of a murder charge and the death penalty.

It especially makes my heart ache when this happens in communities with a highly religious population, religion that is supposed to teach love and compassion.

Yes, there are a few parents out there who are really neglectful, who treat their offspring as garbage, and even purposely cause them harm.  But those are not the parents I am talking about.  I am talking about the pediatrician who forgot she was taking her baby to daycare and left her in the sweltering car all day.  I'm talking about the doting mother who fell asleep watching a movie with her little ones and her toddler went in the backyard and was strangled in a soccer net.  I'm talking about the loving father who didn't know his 1-year-old had followed him outside while he hitched up the trailer and he accidentally backed over her while moving it.

These parents are suffering the worst kind of grief and guilt imaginable, and rather than reaching out to help console them in their suffering, we throw stones and call for crucifixion of them.  We are no better than the Puritan society of "The Scarlet Letter" or the witch-burning tribunals of Salem.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ teaches that we should "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep." (Romans 12:15)  In the Book of Mormon, we are taught that to be called the people of God, we must be willing to "bear one another's burdens...and to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." (Mosiah 18:8-9) In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, "Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted." (Matthew 5:4)

Whether or not a person is a Christian doesn't matter.  Yes, those are tenets of Christianity, but I would care to wager that other faiths teach compassion and love also.

Compassion (n) as defined by my 9-year-old's school dictionary is "sympathy for suffering, kindness."  This is something that many people simply lack in our modern society that is so focused on "me" and doing everything with self in mind.

We all need to be more compassionate.  Is there a time and place to punish those who do inflict intentional harm on their children?  Of course.  Are some instances of accidental harm also punishable?  Probably.  But I don't think we should be so quick to stone others for these types of mistakes.  Accidents do happen.  Every single one of us is capable of leaving a child in a car or being unaware while our child wanders out of the house.  Every. Single. One.

I am tired of so much judging and casting of stones.  I think we would all do better to support each other and comfort each other.  It doesn't happen often enough.  Yes, there are times when the news picks up a story of real love, compassion and comfort, but in the public eye, it isn't seen often enough.  Especially on threads of news stories about parents making fatal errors.  Please, people, let's try and be more compassionate and more loving.  If there was more compassion in this world, think of what a better place it would be!

Let Them Play Alone

There is a lot of pressure today to do everything with your kids.  You are criticized if you choose to sit back and watch them instead of get down and play with them.  Now, I fully believe that parents should play with their kids often.  I believe in the power of play, and one form of that play includes playing with a parent or other adult.

Tonight I was at the pool with my four older kids.  All this last week, there has been a post (a great post, to be sure) going around about how you should not worry about what you look like in a swimsuit and just get in the pool and play with your kids.  How I look in a swimsuit isn't something that concerns me when I am at the pool.  I don't believe either that people sit around and look at you and think about how you shouldn't be in a swimsuit.  I think most peopled are too self-absorbed to notice or think about how anyone else looks at the pool.

I love to swim and always take my kids swimming in the summer.  Sometimes, though, I just don't want to get in the water.  Sometimes, I just don't want to be wet.  Sometimes, the pool water is just too cold for me.  Tonight, the air was cool (high 70s) and even though it was hot all day, it wasn't warm enough for me to get in the water.  I didn't even want to put my feet in because the air was so comfortable.  So I watched from a chair on the side.  I didn't even bring my phone or something to read.  My four older kids can all swim just fine.  They had brought super spraying water guns to play with and were really going at it with each other.

I started to feel guilty for not getting in the water with them even though they asked several times.  The whole idea of not missing out on sharing a moment with them made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

But then I realized that they were playing together really well.  They played with those water guns for a good thirty to forty minutes, happy, laughing, swimming together.  They were getting along without me having to intervene every few minutes and remind them to be nice and share and blah, blah, blah.  Why should I interrupt that?  As great as it is to play with your kids and swim with them and do all these activities with them, it's also really good for them to play with each other without adult intervention or inclusion.  Sometimes, kids just need to play with other kids and work things out on their own without us.

So, even though it's great to get down and play with them and include yourself in their activities, it's also just fine to sit back and watch and not be part of it.  It helps them bond with each other and build friendships with each other.  After all, when I'm gone, they will have each other, and that will be a hundred times better if they are also friends.

Then and Now Kids

When I was a kid, my family joined a community club pool.  At that club, kids could go alone, without their parents, if they were eight years old or older and could pass a swim test.  The swim test involved swimming several laps, treading water for one minute and then retrieving something on the bottom of the pool.  My brothers and I passed that swim test easily and then spent the whole summer at the pool all day.   We would get there when they opened at 10 am and stay until lunch.  After heading home for lunch, we would go back to the pool until dinner time.  Often my mom would come with us in the afternoons.  Sometimes we would go back after dinner with my dad too.  When we weren't swimming there, they had sand volleyball, tetherball, and a video game room.  All of our friends did the same thing.  It was such a great place!
I was telling my kids about this awesomeness and one of them said, "Man, I wished I grew up when you did and lived in that place!"

I decided to look up that old community club pool to see if it was still there.  Sure enough, it's there.  So I decided to see if my kids could have the awesome summers now that I had when I was a kid if we lived in that place.  I was disappointed to learn that all of the things about the pool remained mostly the same except a few key differences.  They upped the age of attending without a parent to TWELVE!  My oldest, who is an awesome swimmer and the same age I was my first summer at the pool, wouldn't be able to attend without an accompanying adult even though he could easily pass the swim test.  The same swim test that I took at age eleven, mind you.

Why did we trust an eight-year-old in 1989 with doing something that today we wouldn't let an eleven-year-old do?  What changed?  Did they have one or more children unaccompanied by a parent drown in that pool between 1994 and 2014?  If they did, that would be terribly tragic, of course, but other than that, I can't see any reason why they should change the age if it was working then.

About eight years ago, a seven-year-old from Mesa, Arizona swam across San Fransisco Bay.  By himself.  It was to support campaigns to teach kids to swim to prevent childhood drownings.  Why do pools have rules that wouldn't even allow this seven-year-old, obviously an accomplished swimmer, attend the pool without being accompanied by a parent?

My own seven-year-old could pass that swim test.  I am seriously bugged by the notion that kids are not capable and need to be protected all the time.  The best times I had were the times I was given the freedom to do things as a child.  My younger brothers and I had a lot of fun times and a lot of them were at that pool.  I have the fondest memories of that place.

I don't know what the pool rules are at my current pool of choice regarding unaccompanied kids, simply because it is far enough away without any sort of bus service that my kids will have to always go with me.  Fortunately, they have a mama who loves to swim too (thanks to my childhood and spending those days at that pool), so we will go as often as possible.  But I won't be standing next to them nor will I force them to wear a life jacket all the time.  How can they learn to swim if they are always wearing a life jacket?

Somehow, kids have become incapable of doing things they could do on their own twenty years ago.  Parents have helicoptered and hovered and overprotected to the point that kids no longer can do the same things at the same ages as they could in the past.  They simply aren't ever allowed to try so they never develop the skill and are therefore not capable because we don't let them become capable. 

I do have six kids...

This week I had a conversation with another mom.  She said something like this, "You moms with lots of kids amaze me.  I only have a few and it's insane at my house sometimes!"

Honey, it's insane at my house pretty much all the time.  In fact, more often than not it is complete chaos.  People seem to think I have everything under control with my six kids.  It's true that I am an organized person.  I thrive on discipline and routine.  I like things to be clean.  Not just hide-the-clutter-because-a-guest-is-coming-over clean.  I like it white glove clean.  I like the closets, under the beds, the spice cabinet, the medicine cabinet, and all those other hidden places to be organized and clean too.  (Note: my house is not always this clean but I would love it to be this clean and strive to keep it as clean as I can.)

I scrubbed my baseboards, doors and door frames today because the little dark marks that are left by too many hands and feet were bothering me.  After I was done, I felt I had accomplished something fantastic.  Most likely, nobody will even notice anything is different, but it made me feel different to have it done.  I felt cleaner, more organized, and more in control of my world.

I love the Bill Cosby routine where he talks about parents and justice.  He talks about a crying child coming to a parent about a sibling taking a toy and how unfair it is.  He says, "We don't care about justice!  We just want quiet!"  That is the story of my life.

I am nervous that you admire me.  I want you to know, that as amazing as I may seem because I am juggling six kids, I am not all that amazing.  I yell way too much.  I sometimes hide in my closet.

I realize you probably look at me in awe because you struggle with your one, two or three.  I struggled when I had one, two, and three.  Parenting is grueling, exhausting, thanklessly difficult work that many people take for granted.  Everyone has a parent.  Many people who have never been a parent look back on their own parents and probably don't realize how taxing of a job it was.  Maybe their parents made it look easy or made it look like the parenting aspect of everything they did was a side thing.  I know I had such thoughts before I was a parent.  Now, with my six, I admire my mom even more for all she did for us.  I certainly didn't appreciate her at the time.  But now I recognize that she probably gave up sleep, spent many nights and days worrying about us, gave up money by having more kids, and many, many other things.

I have six kids.  That doesn't make me a parenting genius.  The only thing that I am genius at is realizing how hard parenting is and how hard we sometimes make it for each other.  We all have our strengths and weaknesses when it comes to parenting.  Maybe some people don't keep a spotless house but some do.  I have read articles pointing fingers at moms who do keep houses clean and implying that they must not be focused enough on their kids because their houses are so clean.  If they're like me, they can't focus until the house is clean.  Then they are much more relaxed and better at their job.  Maybe some people keep a spotless house and can't understand how one can function in a home that's not clean.  I know several moms who don't keep a clean house but they do amazing things with their kids and are much more relaxed about certain things than I am.

We are all different.  We need to stop making parenting a competition and a war.  Yes, we all should strive to do the best job possible, but my best job might look different than your best job.

So, mom with less than six kids, I may make it look easy because you struggle with three, and right now, three would be easier for me, but when I had three, I struggled with that too.  We are on the same road.  Let's help each other out along the way.

Doing More Good

I apologize for my long absence.  After having my daughter, I've been struggling with the adjustment to six kids, especially with one of them being a baby who constantly needs to be held. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about my life and my contribution to the world.  Certainly my six children are a contribution and I'm trying my best to raise them well. But I don't think I am doing all the good that I can do.  I have too  many distractions that keep me from fully being the person that I want to be.

I recently read several biographies of women from the mid-1800's.  They were mothers of many children; one had sixteen!  In addition to being mothers, they were involved in their communities.  One of them opened her home to travelers; another helped with feeding and clothing the poor and needy.  The reason I read these biographies was because they were posted as notable people of history for the city in which I live.  Of the sixteen people that were honored on a wall at the city offices, three of them were women from that time period. 

I have read much about women in history and how women were oppressed and not valued, etc.  Today's women celebrate how much has changed for us--how we are able to do so many things that women in earlier times were not allowed to do.  Almost all of these changes have been positive, but some of the fallout effects of these changes have not been.

Women in earlier times were typically "confined" to the home.  They weren't allowed to work outside the home or vote or be public figures.  Yet these women that were honored on this wall still did much good even without these opportunities.  In fact, I'd like to argue that they did more good than most women who are in high career positions and in the public eye do today. 

As I was reading these biographies, I was thinking about how I have all these freedoms and opportunities, yet I waste much time doing things that are not productive nor contribute much to my community or society.  Yes, I am raising my kids, but I also waste a lot of time watching TV, puttering around on the Internet (reading articles, posting comments, connecting through Facebook).  I think that these women had to work so hard just to keep their tables from being bare and their homes clean and kept up that they didn't have time for all the nonsense we have time for today. 

This got  me thinking about how I need to improve.  We have so many modern conveniences that make our lives easier.  We also invest our time in so many busy activities (carting kids around is something women then did not do--the kids worked alongside them and also had time to run free and play without supervision--another thing I could talk a whole lot more about another time).  These activities aren't inherently bad, but are they really making our lives better? 

After reading these biographies, I really felt like I needed to focus more on teaching my kids worthwhile things--like cooking skills and learning how to garden (I really don't know how) with them by my side.  I need to write that book I've been wanting to write for a couple of decades now.  I need to put more time and work into my community, most likely through PTA because helping at school is something I'm comfortable with and know how to do.  I need to spend less time puttering around and more time serving and helping others and teaching my kids to do the same. 

I need to do more good.  I see many women doing good, but I wonder, with all the progress we've made, are women doing more good today than they were when their opportunities were more limited?  In some ways, it doesn't seem like we are.  I want to be a woman who really makes a contribution to the world.

My Struggle

My daughter was born last week on March 14th, which is why I haven't posted anything in more than a week.

With every baby, I have struggled to breastfeed.  I am a perfectionist.  I am an avid reader.  I know all the facts about how nutritious breastfeeding is and how it's so good for both baby and mom.  I know it's supposed to be the best way to feed your baby.

But I hate it.


It's painful.  It's stressful.  It gives me anxiety.  I worry about how much they're getting because they seem to always be hungry.  It takes all my effort and energy.  I don't have time to eat or sleep or even use the restroom.  I'm in such terrible pain that I can't stand having my other kids within two feet of me.  I'm a grouch and I hate my life. 

Yet because I'm a perfectionist, I feel like a massive failure if I don't breastfeed.

My baby is one week and one day old.  On day five, I was a total wreck.  I was experiencing a postpartum hemorrhage.  The breastfeeding was not going well.  I was in terrible pain.  I had to go back to the hospital and spent the day in the ER, trying to nurse my baby with an i.v. in the crook of my elbow.  It was complete misery.  In between feedings, which only lasts about forty-five minutes to an hour, I was pumping because the engorgement was so painful.

After sobbing to my husband for about an hour that night, in the middle of the night, I decided that I just can't do it.  It's too hard.

So now I'm pumping every few feedings and giving formula when there isn't breastmilk to give.  My milk supply is diminishing.  I am going to bottlefeed and my baby is only one week old.  I feel like a bad mom.

But at the same time, I feel relief.  I am not as stressed out.  I am not dealing with massive anxiety and panic attacks.  I am in less pain.  I even feel somewhat happy.

I wish I could find a way to bottlefeed without feeling guilty, without feeling like a bad mom, without feeling like others are judging me.  I did try.  Probably not as hard as I should have.  Probably not as hard as others do.  But I had to weigh the pros and cons. 

I want to enjoy my baby, not loathe her.  She will be okay.  I have bottle fed five other babies after trying breastfeeding for various lengths of time, from two weeks to four months, and they have all turned out healthy and smart.  I know it's not the end of the world.

Yet somehow, it feels like it is in some ways. 

This is my struggle. 

Patience and Prayer

I must admit, this parenting thing is tricky.  There are days when I watch my kids interact and can't for the life of me figure out why they don't get that things are so much easier when they are nice to each other.  They make things so hard for themselves when they are mean.  We have countless family home evening lessons on how to be nice to each other, why it's important, and everything, but they just. don't. seem. to. get. it.

Patience is something I'm learning with all of this.  It takes great patience for me some days to grit my teeth and keep calm while trying to pry my fighting children off one another.  It takes great patience when I have to, yet again, handle a screaming six-year-old because something didn't go exactly right for him, or the eight-year-old, for that matter.  It takes great patience to bite my tongue and wait until a later time without the kids when I don't like how my husband handles the discipline.  Like today when he made them sit in a time-out for forty-five minutes because of how wild they were when we had some house guests.  Forty-five minutes is excessive for kids aged five to nine, especially when we spent the entire time quieting them.

I had an experience though.  On Thursday this week, I had a fabulous day.  I managed the tantrums and meltdowns of my children beautifully and got a lot done.  We went to the DMV, the store, and the library.  We did preschool and played some games.  I picked them up from school and took them to piano lessons.  I picked up my husband at the airport and came home and whipped up a last-minute dinner, even convincing myself to cook at home instead of stopping somewhere and picking something up.  We got the kids to bed and I spent the evening sewing.

I thought back on why my day had gone so well. I figured out two reasons.  The first was that I had gotten a decent amount of solid sleep the night before.  That was partially due to the fact that my husband was out of town.  His sleep apnea (he has actually been diagnosed and is going back in for more information and treatment!) and snoring keep me awake when my pregnant body doesn't.  He was gone and I slept very well that night.  That can't be duplicated most of the time and I wouldn't necessarily want it to be--him being out of town, that is--but I wouldn't mind separate bedrooms if we could ever do that (just for sleeping's sake!).

The second reason I think was that I had really said my prayers that morning.  I have not been very good with praying most of my life.  I find that I have a hard time really communicating with Heavenly Father and tend to follow more of a script.  Or I find that I can spend the entire prayer asking for things without thanking for anything or the other way around.  Or I forget what I really wanted to pray about and then remember later.  So this year I decided that I  needed to learn how to offer more sincere prayers and really focus on praying.  Focusing on it is one of the harder parts for me because there is always so much going on around me, especially for morning prayers, so I often skip them altogether in the morning.

But Thursday, I really, really prayed.  I focused on asking for guidance when faced with challenges my kids bring me and having the patience to communicate well with them.  I think that helped a lot.  The next day, Friday, I forgot about my morning prayers and proceeded to have one of the most awful days ever.  As I reflect on those two days, I think I need to really work hard at having more sincere, consistent morning prayers. 

I Am a Mom

I am a mom.  That means that my days are not mine.  My time is not mine.

However, I wouldn't have it any other way right now.  This is the life I chose to have.  My power to make a difference in the lives of my children is immeasurable.

Some day my children will be grown.  They will talk about their childhood.  What will they remember?

Will they remember me being there, present in their lives?  Or will they remember me being too busy with other things, things that are much more trivial?

When I chose to have children, I chose to give up some of myself for them.  I chose to put someone else's needs before my own.  I chose to make their lives a priority in my life.

I need to remind myself of these commitments, these obligations.  There are days when I spend too much time watching TV.  There are days when I spend too much time on the Internet.  There are days when I spend too much time reading a book.  I need to take more time each day with my kids as I realize this time is fleeting.

I am a mom. 

Struggles

I am stumbling right now.  I feel like God has not answered any of my prayers for a long time and that has made me reluctant to even bother praying.  I feel like all I do is try, try, try but nothing ever comes of my efforts.

My kids are constantly fighting and nothing I say or do seems to help.

No matter how much I budget and budget, I feel like the finances are crumbling.  I'm also in a constant state of worry due to the rising costs of everything.  Food prices are supposed to go up.  Taxes increased and lots of people are reporting how it's already affecting them (the tax changes).  I honestly don't know how badly it has hit us yet because my husband's company only paid him for one week at the beginning of January instead of two.  Something about the dates every few years makes them think they should only give us three weeks worth of pay in January.  That alone hit us hard, getting paid for only three weeks instead of four.  We had to get our car fixed--a repair we've been putting off for more than a year.  We had half of the amount in savings but had to pay cash the other half, which will cut down how much we can pay on some outstanding debt, debt we've been trying to get rid of for seven years.  I just feel extremely frustrated.  I budget the money, I try hard to stick to the budget, we pay our tithing, but it just seems like things are not working out for us.

I'm frustrated with my calling.  That's putting it lightly.  It really, really bothers me that the same people always seem to be called to the same callings (other people who go from presidency to presidency and me who has held the same callings in all the wards I've been in as an adult).  It seems I'm condemned to be a lifelong member of the Relief Society committee when I'm not teaching Primary.  I wish I could have the opportunity to serve in a capacity where I actually get to know other people on an intimate level (face it, in church, the only way to do that is to serve in a presidency with them) or to have other opportunities of growth (teach in Relief Society, serve on cub scouts or activity days, or teach in Young Women's, to name a few).  I wish I could figure out what it is I'm supposed to learn from being on the Relief Society committee because maybe if I learned it, I wouldn't have to do it anymore.  When I was in college, I was once given the calling "Sacrament Meeting prayer coordinator".  I knew they had made up the calling so I could have a calling.  Sure, it probably helped them out to have the prayers arranged before church on Sunday, but it was a nothing calling that didn't really allow me to get to know anybody.  I know that callings aren't the only way to get to know people, but for someone like me, who isn't naturally outgoing and aggressive in meeting people, it sure helps to have a reason to get to know someone.


So, I'm feeling very low.  People ask if I'm excited about the upcoming baby, and right now, all I can think about is how worried I am about money.  It clouds over everything.  I'm so tired of budgeting down to the penny and then little expenses keep coming up--one child needs new socks, another child breaks his (much-needed) glasses, something goes wrong with the car, another smoke alarm stops functioning properly, etc., etc.  I know life isn't supposed to be easy, but can't we ever catch a little tiny break once in a while?

Ringing in the New Year

I'm not a huge participant of New Year's celebrations.  The fact is that I'm not a late-night person.  If I don't get to bed before 10 pm, I have a hard time sleeping at all and just feel gross the next day.  I've always been this way; this isn't something brought on by motherhood or being over thirty.   I've never been much of a late sleeper, either, even when I do go to bed too late.  I physically can't sleep in--I get too hungry (even when I'm not pregnant, when I'm pregnant, this is ten times worse) by about 6 am to stay in bed, and I always always have to use the bathroom around that time, so it's pretty impossible to sleep in.  Which is why I'm not a huge fan of New Year's celebrations.

But I do enjoy one aspect of ringing in the new year.  I love to set goals for myself.  I love fresh starts and new beginnings.  Even if the goals I set are the same, or very similar, to the goals I set the previous year, it gives me a time to start fresh and try again to do better.  Most of my goals aren't anything you can accomplish, set out and finish, say they're done, and move on anyway.  I tend to set goals that are continual circles to keep on with personal growth.

1.  I will lose the baby weight after this baby is born by eating better and starting an exercise program, to be determined at my six week date from having the baby.
2.  I will read the Sunday school reading assignments and the reading for Relief Society every week.
3.  I will read the books for my book group every month and keep up with the other books on my "to-read" list on Goodreads.
4.  I will (with my husband's help) keep a tighter reign on the budget so we can get 75% or more of our debt paid off this year.
5.  I will try to go on a date at least every other week with my husband.  This is hard for us because his schedule changes weekly and it's very difficult to find babysitters on weeknights or during the day, which is when he's usually available for a date.  Friday and Saturday nights are rarely free for him as he has to work.
I'm excited about the new year and the chance to work on improving myself again.  Here's to 2013!

Mary

Every Christmas since becoming a mother, I've reflected on what it must have been like to be the mother of Jesus. I think about all the things mothers face, both temporal and spiritual.

Temporally, we deal with dirty diapers, wiping runny noses, endless sleepless nights, endless piles of laundry, food preparation, and other household duties. We manage chaos, quell fights between siblings, and try to teach them to be good people. We hug our children when they are tired and crying, we kiss away the pain when they hurt themselves.

Did Mary do all these things? What was Jesus like as a child, I mean, really like? Was he ALWAYS good? I mean, he was perfect, so it seems right to assume that he was perfect as a child too. Does that mean that he never cried? Or did he cry when he fell down and got hurt?

Spiritually, we are to guide our children to make righteous choices. Jesus was perfect. How much guiding did Mary need to do when Jesus was a young child? Was the veil closed to him at a young age? Or was it always open?

What was it like?

Ever since having my kids and realizing the difficulty of raising them, I often ponder on this topic during the Christmas season and what a beautiful thing it is to be a mother.