Monday, November 17, 2014

Little Wonders

So, I have a whole blog post written in my mind that I was going to post today. But then, I was reminded that today is National Prematurity Awareness Day. And so, here are my oldest twins, born at 29 weeks and 2 days. (Yes, that two days matter!) weighing in at 2 lbs 13.5 oz


When I reflect back on those first few months of their life, it's easy to get mad. Mad that I didn't get to see them right after birth. Mad that I didn't get to hold them for days and weeks. Mad that I didn't know I could kiss them until a nurse did first. Mad that I was robbed of breastfeeding and bonding and sleep deprivation on my own terms.

But even then, I wasn't ever really mad. Because I had peace. Trust me, I had a LOT of fear. But I also had a lot of peace. That even though their entrance into this life was in no way conventional or sound, it was still PLANNED. They were sent by God three months early to us, but exactly on time to Him. Nurses or friends would say, "It's okay that...fill in the blank... because they're not supposed to be here." And I would smile and nod, but inside I would think, "They are exactly where they are SUPPOSED to be."

And six years and two siblings later...they still are.


Monday, October 20, 2014

A horse story

This story was shared at church yesterday. It very much made me think of my own "horse" whom I cannot keep in her stall (crib) at all. But all of my kids have"habits" that I usually try to train them out of. I really like this perspective though...loving them first, and changing myself without trying to change them.
Do they have to all show their bad habits all at once though?!

When I was a boy I, we had a horse named Junie. She was one of the most intelligent animals I ever saw. She seemed almost human in her ability. I couldn’t keep her locked in the barn because she would continually undo the strap on the door of her stall. I used to put the strap connected to the half-door of the stall over the top of the post, but she would simply lift it off with her nose and teeth. Then she would go out in the yard.
There was a water tap in the yard used for filling the water trough for our animals. Junie would turn this on with her teeth and then leave the water running. My father would get after me because I couldn’t keep that horse in the barn. She never ran away; she just turned on the water and then walked around the yard or over the lawn or through the garden. In the middle of the night, I would hear the water running and then I would have to get up and shut it off and lock Junie up again.
My father suggested that the horse seemed smarter than I was. One day he decided that he would lock her in so that she couldn’t get out. He took the strap that usually looped over the top of the post and buckled it around the post and under a crossbar, and then he said, “Young lady, let’s see you get out of there now!” My father and I left the barn and started to walk back to the house; and before we reached it, Junie was at our side. She then went over and turned the water on again.
I suggested that now, perhaps, she was about as smart as either one of us. We just couldn’t keep Junie from getting out of her stall. But that doesn’t mean she was bad, because she wasn’t. Father wasn’t about to sell or trade her, because she had so many other good qualities that made up for this one little fault.
The horse was as reliable and dependable at pulling our buggy as she was adept at getting out of the stall. And this was important, because Mother was a licensed midwife. When she would get called to a confinement somewhere in the valley, usually in the middle of the night, I would have to get up, take a lantern out to the barn, and hitch Junie up to the buggy.
I was only about ten or eleven years old at the time; and that horse had to be gentle and yet strong enough to take me and Mother all over the valley, in all kinds of weather. One thing I never could understand, however, was why most of the babies had to be born at night and so many of them in winter.
Often I would wait in the buggy for Mother, and then it was nice to have the company of gentle old Junie. This experience with this horse was very good for me, because early in life I had to learn to love and appreciate her for herself. She was a wonderful horse with only a couple of bad habits. People are a lot the same way. None of us is perfect; yet each of us is trying to become perfect, even as our Father in heaven. We need to appreciate and love people for themselves.
Maybe you need to remember this when you evaluate your parents or teachers or ward and stake leaders or friends—or brothers and sisters. This lesson has always stayed with me—to see the good in people even though we are trying to help them overcome one or two bad habits. …
I learned early in life to love and not to judge others, trying always to overcome my own faults.8

Yes,I do know this pic is of a cow, but you get what you pay for;)

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Two Much?

So we've been dealing with some challenges lately, and I've been struggling. Not anything huge or unusual, but just enough that I have become depleted more than usual. I feel inadequate and lost more often than not. And I'm trying really hard to count my blessings, but the truth of the matter is that life is getting busier and harder and I am just not getting any more capable. Have I grown extra arms? Nope! Have I been allotted more hours in the day? Nope! Have I suddenly discovered that I can get by without sleep, food, or showers? No, although I'm setting a record for that last one.

Life with two twins is harder than I thought. And it's hard to not be able to really relate to the other moms around me. Trust me, I KNOW your life is hard. I see you doing amazing things and struggling with your kids just as much as I do. But it's just DIFFERENT. Not good or bad, harder or easier, but different in most ways. Or maybe it's exactly the same, but I just don't know!  

Sometimes I look at my life and think, it's TOO MUCH! We're TOO much!  We fill up and permeate everything and everywhere and everyone. 







Every once in awhile I decide to break routine and be the "fun mom". So we packed up and went to the dollar store. The kids had earned prizes for doing so well at school, so I thought it would be the perfect spot to go. We walked in and of course the carts aren't big enough to safely handle two climbing toddlers, so I thought, "sure, they can walk around." Um, no. I have never seen merchandise flung onto tile faster than that day. I actually want to get a hold of the security footage to laugh at myself as I replace ducks and pens and firecrackers and coin purses to their proper place. And then laugh as I just throw everything into the basket, and chuck it at the 17 year old clerk while lollipops are being lobbed back and forth between children. An entire Asian family crowded in line behind me, took one look and fled. 

And yes, these experiences are TOO much for me...most of the time. But this is what I remember from that trip..

In the middle of all the dollar store chaos, I had a chance to have a brief exchange with one family. They were looking down at my children and I expected them to have a look of disgust with how poorly I was disciplining them. But instead, this young man looked at them and said, "you are so blessed.".  I was tempted to scoff. And to laugh. And to make some comment about how I was failing. Because I often fail. But instead, I let his comment just sink into my soul and I commented, 

"Thank you. Yes, I am." 

Because I am blessed. TWO much.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Cobwebs go to Sleep

So I promise I won't always use this blog to complain. We have actually had some really great moments since my last post. About five times everyday I remember that I have the best kids ever. But about five times a day I look around at this house and inwardly scream, "I want to move!" I need more space!" And at least once a day it is not inward. At least once I actually exclaim, "We need to move!" This is my house as of this moment. And this is a CLEAN day. 
But then, I remember all of the reasons that I should be glad we have a small house:
  • We have a low mortgage so that means we have funds for extra travel, extra food and we don't have to think about our bank account every minute
  • We have a housecleaner. And yes, I have guilt about this. After five years of her coming, I still feel guilty that I am not scrubbing my own bathroom. BUT, the way I see it--I can either pay for a clean house, or I can pay for therapy
  • We LOVE our school and the walk to and from is perfect
  • We have a great neighborhood and actually know and talk to a lot of our neighbors now
  • A small house=a quick clean up
  • I know that a big house will still get incredibly messy
  • No stairs=no falling down them
  • We know we can afford to live here. I know that I can be a stay at home mom==super great peace of mind!
  • First world problems--I am so grateful that we have a food and a roof and healthy children! I don't NEED ANYTHING!
BUT...I admit that today is just one of those days that I just can't take it anymore. I want a gloriously organized toy room instead of a messy office. I want a laundry room that I can walk into. I want a pantry that I can get into without scooting the kitchen table over.  And, we will get there someday. I know we will. We can save money and change our priorities. We could even do it tomorrow. But, we don't really want to. We really want to live the life we have.

So...what do I do to feel better? I make lists, I organize, I clean. I purge. I get help. And it normally works. Organization to me is better than Christmas. But this morning, I just didn't have it in me. I knew this feeling of despondency was more than a simple To Do list could fix. And so I prayed. I prayed that I could find myself again. That I can be happy despite living among such chaos. and that for once, my normally very prideful attitude of "I can do it myself" could yield to a higher power.  And then, I read this:
 "The notions of self help and time management are comforting--and motivating--but neither is completely true or reliable, and in the long run, they set us up for a fall.  The fact is, we can't do everything. We're actually pretty limited in what we can do on our own, and sorry, we just don't get better every day in every way. As much as we might like to control everything, plan everything, and never be surprised, life doesn't work that way. In fact, it is our human inadequacies that can make us humble, faithfilled, and ultimately powerful through a higher power....to truly lift to another level--to go beyond our very finite and limited abilities, to see realities that are beyond our senses-we need non-self help. We need help from a higher source, from a spiritual source--from God."(The Turning, Richard and Linda Eyre, pg156). 


And so, the "experts" would tell me to get rid of this chair. We don't really use it anymore and it definitely doesn't fit the space. I could sell it and get nice toy storage containers. This would actually make me extremely happy.
But...if I'm going to listen to the higher power today...instead of seeing spilled milk and crumbs and really ugly brown when I look at this chair...I need to see this instead. And remember why I have this chair in the first place. I bought it so I could nurse and rock and change and love my babies. And so I've done all that. But what I've actually done is become myself. I wasn't a mother without it. How could I possibly say that it is "in the way?"














Big house or clean house or not--this chair is all the "space" I need.



Thursday, September 4, 2014

Mommy Meltdown

So it was one of THOSE days. When everything has already gone wrong and you've only been awake for five minutes. It was a rush to get the big kids to school after a long weekend. I felt guilt over waking them up after not enough sleep and then pushing them out the door too fast.

And then, the babies wake up. And they are grumpy. And they scream for about an hour. And my tried and true tricks are not working...facetime with gma, mickey mouse clubhouse, telling them we get to "go!"). So, I guess I'm skipping the gym today. Especially since my two day old workout clothes now have pee on them.

But...we have to make it the dentist. Our one year old cracked her teeth so we need to go see how that needs to be taken care of. But...we don't have time to get a babysitter for Brooke. So now there's two one year olds at the dentist with just me. And they are climbing, and grabbing the sparkly confetti off the display faster than I can grab the goldfish out of the diaper bag. And I just want to crawl into a hole. But the receptionist says, "They are so cute!! Don't you just look at them and think they are cute all day long?!" And then I have guilt for not thinking that just about everything they do is amazing!

So we get through the appointment (barely), by the skin of my teeth. I won't even talk about how I had to change a diaper with the other one pulling about six toilet seat covers out and attempting to flush them down the toilet. But the toilet didn't like that, so I had to fish them out and throw them away while dripping toilet water onto my babies' heads? Yeah, kind of like that. After watching my baby be tortured by the dentist, we loaded up two balloons and two kids in the stroller and proceed to walk out and put everyone and everything in the car. Whew. I got lunch, and thought I had survived.

But then, Brooke had a major tantrum when I didn't let her drink my Diet Coke. Imagine that. Her cup of freshly poured milk was not good enough, or the fries I was generously offering. And her diaper was next to be changed, so I had to pin her down kicking and screaming to do that. I threw them in bed, but all of a sudden my In and Out treat didn't taste as good with my side of toddler screaming in her crib.

And then...it was time to pick up the big kids. I actually was excited this time. I get to have a 15 minute walk in the sunshine and then see adults for five minutes! :)  All was well, until...my son starts tugging on my shirt. He is thirsty. I hold him off...we'll wait till we get home! And then, the crocodile tears. "I didn't eat lunch!" he exclaims. Oh boy. My sweet, obedient son left his lunch in the classroom and didn't know what to do to get it back. He didn't see a teacher and didn't want to break any lunch time rules. Bless his heart.

So I picked up my mommy heart and spent a good hour feeding, reading, and doing HW with those kids. Thank goodness those babies slept through this!

And then...was Costco. I normally would have gone in the morning, but we had the dentist appointment. So that means a trip with four kids. Which wouldn't be bad except for that a trip to the store with any amount of kids is always bad!  Thank goodness for free samples..except we had lemonade spilled on aisle 12 and sunflower seeds dumped on aisles 2-4.  And I swear only the grumpy grandparents were shopping today. Only glares in the produce section this time. But we made it to the checkout. The kids were playfully pushing and shoving and I felt like I had run a marathon. And, the nice checkout lady remarks, "Your children are so well behaved." Again, instant guilt. Because, yes, they are. Especially at the store. Especially for how young they are. But all I could see were the glares and the interruptions. So I repented again. And we happily carried in all the food and stuffed it into the fridge. The babies used the new cereal boxes as a stool while I quickly put the dinner on the table. And I was feeling so proud for buying a healthy dinner instead of food court pizza at Costco. But then, it was on the floor. In a matter of seconds. And there was screaming for junk food instead of the nice carrot sticks they could have had. And the big kids were so hyper and over tired and it was LOUD! And I was alone. I AM SO GRATEFUL that Ryan has a wonderful job. He works hard for our family, but he is gone  A LOT. And it is hard to feel alone.

So in the middle of cars crashing into ranch mountains and cherry tomatoes being used for baseball practice, I just yelled and cried. That it was too hard. And I was done. And that I couldn't clean up one more time. And then, I got a hug from my girl. And my sweet boy, who had gone hungry that day and who doesn't get nearly enough attention, just said, "YOU can do hard things, mom!"

And it was quiet. And I laughed and then cried. I picked, "you can do hard things" as our theme for the school year because I thought it might be hard for my young guys to be at school all day learning. But my son was teaching me a lesson. I might have had a little bit of a temper tantrum, but he was right.
I can do hard things! And my life is hard. But I can't let it stop me from looking at my toddlers and thinking that they are adorable. And I can't let it stop me from seeing my big kids as the well behaved children they are. (even though it takes Rachel an hour to write her name!).

So I picked myself up, cleaned up the dinner, let my husband come home and put the kids to bed his way even though it takes longer. And I started the laundry and packed the lunches (an extra big one), and snuggled on the couch for Wednesday movie night. And knew that I would not get enough sleep one more time, but that it would be okay because my son thinks I can do hard things.