Blank Space

I just read the description of myself on the blog here.  It is true.  My life is a shambled mishmash of things.  I hate describing myself.  The empty space waiting or me to tell succinctly, yet wittily, how I view myself.  This should be easy, I think to myself.  After all, I know what/who I am...don't I?

This past year has been really difficult for me in this respect.  I have been exhausted by the myriad of responsibilities that accompany the care of five humans, most of which directly rely on my "talents" (ie: grunt labor) for their very basic survival needs.  I do all of this while trying to be a friend, learn new technology, and manage my church calling/s.  Add to that the pressures of school involvement for my six-year-old, preschool for my three-year-old, and trying to harness the incredible brain power/physical energy needs of my toddler boy.  And on top of this, I want to feel like I do something.  I want to know that I am at least one thing besides a really underpaid maid/nanny.  Yet all the DIY or cooking or photography I try ends up unfinished because of other more urgent demands on my time.  And to add to this, I want to satisfy my vanity a little bit.  I want to look nice.  Fashionably aware, without being over-run by trends, but not missing the boat; physically fit, without starving, extreme dieting or exercising until I die; and the ability to give a genuine smile and say "I'm great!" when someone takes the time to ask.

And yet...I find that too often the smile feels false.  Far more than I'd like, something/everything is not great.  My husband tells me (and I tell myself) that I expect too much.  That I try to do too much. It is true.  I know that.  But tell me, what is there to cut out?

I AM ultimately responsible for the feeding/watering/clothing/washing/teaching of all five (soon to  be six) of us.  I don't begrudge this.  In fact, I am genuinely happy to do it.  I have chosen this as my life's main work and it brings me a lot of joy.  But, it takes a lot of T-I-M-E and, in even shorter supply, energy.

I AM going to be an active participant in my children's education.  Period.  Oh yeah, and I did cut out being a room parent this year, luckily there were plenty of party-throwers available and anxious for the job!

I AM going to try my best to magnify my church calling.  Lots of work it may be, but I made the commitment long ago to give my best to God, so that's that.  And, I'm becoming a much better delegator.  So I feel like I'm cutting here where I can.

So what does that leave?  Me.  Figuring out what to fill in that blank personal description space that is actually only about me.  And I tell you, I don't know what to do.  By the time I have a moment to even consider filling it in, I am so exhausted and frustrated that the space looks bigger, blanker, and more daunting than before.

And yet, I have a nagging feeling that until I can confidently fill that space, even with only a single sentence that's purely about me, that my smile will continue to feel a little bit false.

#1 Run a 10K

Here we are, the crazy turkey trotters!  Thanks Tish for running with me, even though I nearly died at the end.  We ran every step of that 6.2 miles.  Time: 1 hr 6 mins 48 secs

#56 Brine a Turkey

I brined this baby.  And to my pregnant stomach, it tasted pretty awful.  Everyone else seemed to like it though.

To Be a Mother in Zion...

I've been having a rather difficult summer.  My plans have not been adding up the way I wanted them to, with my husband's knee surgery, preschool complications, and other unexpected things, I've been feeling a lot of stress.  Life is tough, and I am dealing with a lot of raw emotions.  Sadly, my mothering skills are too often in slacking mode.  I feel as though I am in meet-basic-needs mode and I can't get out of it.

While sitting in the "Family Relations" class at church the other Sunday, we were asked to read a talk by President Ezra Taft Benson titled, "To the Mothers in Zion" for our homework.  My first instinct was to ignore it since I felt guilty enough already but I started it anyway, and then spent the next several minutes reading it in class.  It is a gem.  I don't remember a lot about President Benson's time as Prophet (1985-1994) since I was pretty young, but from reading the words he said, I feel that he speaks quite directly.  I usually enjoy that, and it was no different in this talk.

President Benson begins directly with a statement that is so true, it rings in my bones.  "Spending time with your children is the greatest gift of all."  That's it.  T-I-M-E time.  Precious and fleeting though it is, and perhaps because that is exactly what it is.  My eyes start to well and my chest tightens because I know that this is the important thing, and yet is so easy to run out of.  However, he then gets specific and gives ten ways to spend effective time with our children.

1. Be at the Crossroads
2. Be a Real Friend
3. Read to Your Children
4. Pray with Your Children
5. Have Weekly Home Evenings
6. Be Together at Mealtimes
7. Read Scriptures Daily
8. Do Things as a Family
9. Teach Your Children
10. Truly Love Your Children

So, to help me internalize these principles, I'm giving myself an assignment.  For six weeks I will read this talk each Sunday and try to incorporate the ideas into my weekly activities.  Then I will write a summary report.

As I said in the beginning of this post, it's been an emotionally draining and difficult summer for me.  I feel that I often get caught up in the monotony of dishes, laundry, cleaning, wiping faces/hands/feet, cleaning muddy footprints/shoes/hands/fingernails/faces, cooking, and dishes again and forget to enjoy where I am.  My small children, the joys of their small triumphs and failures, the excitement of dirt/shovels/water/bugs, and their growth that is a seemingly indirect result of all the pure grunt labor and sacrifice I make every day.

And then, as I write this, I remember that times we played in the hose, watered the garden together, went to the park, read books or just talked.  Those are the happy times.  I want more of them.  And that is purely up to me.  The kids will find those imaginative opportunities.  But if I want to be a part of them, their imaginations, their joys, and their triumphs, I'll have to take that time, let other things go and BE a part of it.

#26 Build a Sandcastle

Here it is.  The kids especially loved the hole inside.  I officially got my hands dirty and sculpted some sand.  It was more fun than I thought it would be.

Blessings

It's been an interesting day.  I've had three extremely late nights in a row due to a combination of insomnia and my skin issues, and woke up this morning feeling rather angry at the world and sorry for my tough lot in life.  After a morning full of poopy diaper changes, getting three breakfasts, doing last night's dishes, starting a load of laundry, and helping mow and clean up the back yard, I stood at the counter making sandwiches (Two peanut butter and jellies on white bread for the husband, two soynut butter and jellies for the girls, and one soynut on a bagel for the allergy boy)   for everyone's lunch.  Wallowing in my self-pity, nasty thoughts came to mind of how not one of them would even care that I made three separate lunches for them so they would each like it/be healthy/safe and it was almost positive that they wouldn't realize I still have one to make for myself since I don't even like pb&j (or the allergy friendly variants) and even if I did want one, I'm not sure if I should eat that bread since I still have baby weight to lose.  


At that moment, I had a moment of recognition that I was wallowing and I decided to stop.  But, my own will was not strong enough at that moment to do it.  I said a prayer.  It went something like, "Dear Father-in-Heaven, please help me.  I don't want to make these sandwiches out of spite or duty.  I want to do it out of love.  Please help me to do that."  And, I forced a smile and kept spreading the jam.  

In a few moments, I looked out the window and saw B. playing with her little brother.  He was laughing, she was laughing.  E. was walking slowly in front of Dad pushing the small handle of the lawnmower while Dad, arms stretched long, walked behind her as they cut the grass.  I had a very different kind of moment.  It started out peaceful and happy and quickly turned to awe.  I thought, "We are a family.  We all do things that aren't convenient to help each other out.  We do it from duty, from need, from kindness, and above all from love.  That is what makes our family work, and why I cycle through the never-ending practical necessities--including making sandwiches.  I bowed my head there at the kitchen counter again, this time in gratitude for an answered prayer.

Then, a little bit later, I had to bite the bullet and call the credit card company to take care of some incorrect charges.  I thought that I would have no chance of having them removed, though I had done everything as correctly as I could.  As I said a prayer for strength and courage to make the call, I remembered that we had paid our tithing on Sunday.  I stayed after church and deliberately made the payment, though a big part of me wanted to just take it home and then turn it in next week.  However, I decided not to be lazy and did it.  Remembering that instance right before my phone call, I felt that I would see the blessings of paying an honest and timely tithe.  I made the call and everything was resolved quickly and easily.  As I dissolved into tears of gratitude, I knew in my heart that this blessing was a direct result of tithing.

I write this today in hopes that my future self or children will be able to look back on these experiences in a time of need.  It was greatly needed by me today and I am so grateful to know I have a Father in Heaven who loves me, who knows my needs, and who answers my most humble prayers.  

#51 Hang a Shelf

  And to top it off, I hung two!