Grateful for Good Health

Feeling so good - I could jump for joy!

We’ve had a stomach bug circulating through our family for the last few days.  Yesterday it was my turn.  It was yucky.  It hurt and I was miserable.  I spent the day on a bean bag watching hour after hour of the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice with Sarah (she was sick too).  Emma would come downstairs and tell me she was hungry and I would groan.  Did I really have to get up?  Once I came upstairs and she had a piece of bread and jam.  I hadn’t cut a piece for her and my first thought was that she’d wielded the big bread knife to cut one for herself.  Instead I found the loaf hacked to pieces with a butter knife lying next to it.  What could I say?  The only thing I really could, “Wow, Emma, you cut yourself some bread.  You’re getting so grown up!” 

Luckily this bug was short lived.  By evening the pains were gone, and I was just left with fatigue.  Today I am full of energy and desire to get things done.  I’m happy to set my house to rights and do the laundry.  I feel so blessed to feel good.  I don’t have to think about my gut or my head.   I just get to concentrate on what needs doing for the ones I love.  I don’t think about my health very often.  I take for granted that I will have the energy and ability to do the things I want to do.  It isn’t until I have a day like yesterday that I really appreciate the gift of a healthy body.

Grateful for Beautiful Skies

Beautiful summer sunset

Last week I heard about what Stephanie is doing this month.  She posts something every day that she is grateful for.  I love the idea and although I don't know that I'll do it every day, at least it has me thinking about all the things I have to be thankful for.

Yesterday morning as I drove home from the gym the sky was so beautiful.  It was the palest shade of pink, not the bright or golden pink that is often part of sunrise, just a soft smear of pink all across the horizon.  The snow covered mountains were still shadowy and stood out against the pastel sky.  It made me catch my breath, and then it made me remember that God is in the details of our lives, even in the beauty of a morning sky.  In that quiet moment I felt His love.  That moment gave way to the rush of the morning: rousing sleepy heads, feeding, clothing, and rushing off to Veterans Day programs.  Still, I think that moment of beauty and reverence set me up for a beautiful day.

Our Own Stories

To be the heroes and heroines of our own stories; to triumph over adversity; to experience life in all its beauty; and in the end, to live happily ever after – Dieter F. Uchtdorf

As a young child I remember sitting at my grandmother’s feet listening to the stories of her life.  Some of them made me laugh, others made me cry.  Some gave me courage to be strong no matter what happens in life and others made me grateful that my life was so good.  Grandma was a natural story teller and so is my dad.  Maybe I inherited some of that too.  

Each day I am writing my own story, living and breathing it.  So, this is the place where I gather my stories, our stories, the ones I share with the ones I love.  I imagine they will be simple stories of everyday events, life in the country with the challenges and joys of family.   I expect there will be wildly joyful stories and heartbreakingly sad ones.  But all stories have a place, if only to remember, if only to know that we have lived a full life together.

A Taste of Sweetness - originally published October 25, 2012

My alarm didn’t go off this morning.  I set it for 5:00 pm instead of 5:00 am.  I must have a subconscious desire not to get up that early.  But, if I don’t get up, I don’t get to exercise.  If it doesn’t happen then, it just doesn’t happen.  I groaned when I realized what I’d done.

I thought maybe I could still get in some exercise if I worked it out just right and I figured a walk with Emma would be just the thing.  We had our first snow fall yesterday, but this morning was clear and bright.  We bundled up and headed out into the sunshine.  Emma climbed into the stroller and I took off at a brisk pace.  After only 100 yards she decided that she didn’t want to ride after all.  There went my plans for exercise.  I felt frustrated and hoped that after a little while she would get back in so I could speed up again.

As we walked down the road I showed her how to break the ice in the puddles.  She loved the snap of the ice as much as I always did as a child.  The puddles on the road were small, but when we reached the gravel pit there were big puddles thinly covered with ice, perfect for breaking.  We walked from puddle to puddle.  I held Emma’s hand as she carefully walked on the ice.  The ice creaked and snapped.  Water bubbled and slid beneath the surface.  Usually, we heard a satisfying crack and other times there was the tinkle and clink of ice pieces tumbling against each other.  Emma never tired of stepping on the ice and experiencing its crack beneath her.

As our time in the sun progressed I slowly let go of my anxiety to get on to exercise and I simply began to enjoy the time with Emma.  Too often the things I do have multiple purposes, like this walk.  I figured I could do something with my girl and get in some exercise at the same time.  But the exercise was the really important thing in my mind this morning.  I began to wonder when I lost my contentment with simple things.  Emma was completely delighted with walking, cracking ice and humming happily about puddles.  When had things and tasks become more important than relationships?  She was happy to just be with me.  When had I become a grown up, so much like the grown ups found by the Little Prince?  Grown ups consumed with “matters of consequence.”

I admit that I am consumed with “matters of consequence.”  I push through my days checking off things on my list, managing feeding, cleaning, and caring, trying to fit in a little time for this and that important activity, listening with half an ear while I take care of something else.  I am pulled in a hundred different directions; distracted and distant.  I should feel accomplishment, but I feel incomplete instead.  The sweetness of everyday life has begun to elude me.  I’m not exactly sure how to recapture it, but I think I caught of taste of it today in the sunshine, cracking the ice, releasing efficiency and wasting time.

Sparkles - originally published July 16, 2012

The other day I noticed a smattering of pale freckles spread across the bridge of Emma’s nose and under her eyes.  I pointed them out and told her how I loved them.  I pulled her close and placed my own kiss on the ones the angels had left.  “I want to see the sparkles!” she said.  At first I was confused, but then I realized she was talking about the freckles.  I took her to the mirror and watched her delight when she saw that she had “sparkles” just like her big sister.

It reminded me of Sister Dalton’s talk to the young women.  Her daughter spoke of “shiney” and mine talks of “sparkles,” but they both possess beauty for the same reason.  It is their innocence, purity and goodness.   When Emma said to me this morning, “Tell me I am beautiful!” there was no hesitation she is beautiful, just like her big sister.

Summer Vacation Celebration - originally published June 4, 2012

Our summer vacation began Friday after school with our annual “Summer Vacation Celebration!”  This year we invited the neighborhood kids to join in the fun.  I thought about doing an official party, but I never did get around to planning it so we just had a little spur of the moment celebration. We put a sign on an easel by the road inviting everyone passing by to come up to the porch for snow cones.  Joshua set things up, cranked the ice shaver and served the snow cones.  It was very fun and I didn’t have to make invitations, plan games or do clean up, the perfect end of school celebration.

Naps Are Essential - originally published February 8, 2011

Today Peter asked to take a nap with Emma and me.  This is rare now days.  Usually he is content to play quietly and not so quietly while I put Emma down for a nap and catch a few winks myself.

“I want you to cuddle me,” he said as he slid under the blanket with us.

“Soon, after Emma is asleep,” I told him.

He kept peeking over my shoulder to see if Emma was asleep yet.  Once when she was just drifting off he declared that she was asleep.  Oh no, she was awake and I wondered if she would drift off again.  She did and I finally turned over and slipped my arm under his head.  He curled his little body into a ball to fit in the curve of mine, his head on my chest.  Emma lay snuggled up against my back.  I was trapped in the most wonderful way.

I love these quiet afternoon naps with my little ones.  Years ago I decided that naps were essential for my happiness and for theirs.  We call it quiet time around here and it is almost sacred.  When someone asks me to do something in the afternoon I almost panic.  ”What about naps!”

I have napped with every one of my children.  With each of them I loved having their head on my chest and hearing their breathing slow down as they slip into sleep.  Peter heads off to Kindergarten next year so I know these afternoons with him are numbered.  That is one of the reasons I cherish this time with him.  But the main reason is that when I have little bodies cuddled up against mine I feel tremendous love for them.  I forget their teasing, their messes and all the other things that annoy me.  I only remember that they are mine and that I adore them, heart and soul.

Make Them Smile - originally published January 28,2011

Josh can always make Emma smile

Last Sunday when we went to bed we were all hoping school would be cancelled the next morning.  It was already below zero so it wouldn’t take much to get cold enough for no school.  Sadly, the clouds came in over night and warmed things up a little.  It was still cold just not cold enough to get out of school.  We were all disappointed, but Joshua was truly distressed.  He cried and begged to stay home.  He said that he felt so self conscious at school that it was painful.  Oh dear!  I remember that pain, that feeling that everyone is watching and judging you.  Eighth grade is just torture.  I sent him to school with a challenge to forget himself and try to make others smile.  I told him I would ask him when he got home how many people he had made smile.

He was happy and confident when I picked him up from a student council meeting later on.  He said that after third hour he’d lost count of how many he’d made smile, but he’d done seven up until then.  It was amazing how much happier he was.  The truth is that you simply can’t be happy when you are filled up with thoughts of yourself and your own perceived inadequacy.  The only way to be happy is to forget yourself.

You Must - originally published January 28, 2011

Peter has started using the word “must.”  It is so cute to hear him say, “Mom, you must come and see this.”  Or, “You must try this!”  It is so Peter-like to find a more efficient and compelling way of saying something.  Why  say “You need to,” or “You have to,” when you can just say, “You must!”

Love Notes - originally published January 28, 2011

All of Harold’s games were away from home this week.  One night the JV coach asked to have his two best players for the game the next night.  Harold had really been looking forward to that game because it had been a really close match the time before.  He didn’t want to give up his girls, but he agreed to do it.  When he called after the game he was frustrated and a little resentful about what had happened.  They’d lost the game.  When I got off the phone and told the kids what had happened they were all indignant.  How could they do that to their dad?  It just wasn’t fair.  The next day when I was making the bed I found a note Camilla had written Harold telling him how sad she felt for him and how much she loved him.  It was such a sweet note.  I think it made up for the loss.

The next day at Camilla’s parent/teacher conference her teacher told us how Camilla and Sarah wrote her such sweet notes when her mother passed away just a few weeks earlier.  She got a little emotional and said how she had them on her fridge at home.  That was the best.  More than book smarts or brilliance I want my children to be compassionate and caring people.  I’m so proud of them.

You're Going To Make It - originally published January 18, 2012

The other day at the end of Sacrament Meeting an elderly woman who was sitting behind my family reached forward and said, “You’re a great mom!”  “Really?” I said, “Even with kids fighting and biting?”  She just laughed and said, “Don’t worry.  You’re going to make it.”

I don’t think we can hear that enough as we raise our children.  I feel so uncertain a lot of the time.  I’m just making it up as I go.  I try to have a plan of action as I teach, but more often than not I’m just taking care of whatever new crisis presents itself.  Thank goodness for wise parents and friends who have been where I am and can reassure me that I’m going to make it and my kids are going to make it too.

This morning I was feeling particularly panicky.  I’d had a long talk with Joshua last night and realized more than ever that I have a teenager in the house.  Then this morning I read something on a blog that made me want to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and cry.  How are my kids going to make it?  The world is just too scary.

Luckily, I have wise and wonderful parents.  I needed to talk this one through so I gave them a call.  “Are the things I’m doing here in my home enough?” I asked.  There was a resounding, “Yes!” then comfort, advice and sharing of experiences.  They reassured me that I would teach my children the things they need to know, that the example Harold and I are providing for them will help them navigate scary waters.  They helped me remember that in the end our influence is greater than any influence the world might exert.  I hope so.  I truly hope so.

You know, I think I believe them.  I’m going to make it.  My heart is light and I think I’ll stay out of my bed.  Besides there’s work to be done and children to teach.

A Style All Her Own - originally published January 17, 2011

Emma loves to wear her coat backwards.  She absolutely refuses to wear it any other way.

The only way to wear your coat.

One Word - originally posted January 10, 2011

Instead of a list of resolutions for the year I picked just one word.  One simple word to define what I want to focus on for the year.  I tried to do it last year, but I got so hung up on trying to find a lovely word that I never picked one.  Well, this year I took the one that I needed, lovely or not.  The word is ORDER, plain old order.

Last year when I tried out my words on Harold he would smile politely, but I could tell he wondered what I was thinking.  This year when I said I would focus on order he immediately said, “Oh, that is a good word.”  Poor man!  He must long for more order around here.  Hopefully this year I can bring a little more of that home for him.

I’ve thought a lot about this simple word the last couple weeks.  I have great hopes that as ordinary as it is that “order” will hold treasure I never imagined.  Who knows once I get to know order I may discover that it is the loveliest of words.

I definitely want more order in my surroundings, but the order I’ve been thinking mostly about is the order of my priorities.  How I spend my time.  What portion of my life I give to the things I do.  I don’t want to continue to let unimportant things crowd out the truly important things in my life.

What is hardest about focusing on the important things is that they are often invisible.  They are things that have to do with the heart: love, laughter, listening, being present, understanding.  It is in nurturing those important relationships with God, those we love and ourselves.  It is so much easier to attend to the visible, but easier isn’t necessarily better.

This is the part of order that fascinates me right now.  I find that I am using spiritual and mental muscles that I have left alone for too long.  I sometimes feel frustrated when the tasks that I want to do take a back seat to the things I really need to do.  I don’t feel quite as productive and the physical order is going slowly.  However, I know the invisible ties I am making to the hearts of those who matter most to me are vitally important.  I can’t neglect them for things that will just come undone anyway.

Honey Bun - originally posted January 10, 2011

One afternoon I called Harold on the phone and left him a message.  When I hung up Peter asked who I was talking to.  “My honey bun!”  I told him.  “Who’s that?”  He wanted to know.  Camilla told him it was Dad and he raised his eyebrows and gave me his “that is so weird” look.  Peter, you know, likes things to be just exactly what they are and to be called what they are.  He never likes me to call him pet names.  He’s just Peter.  But someday I think he will probably like it if the right someone calls him her “honey bun.”

Guitar Girl - originally posted January 10, 2011

Harold brought home a guitar this week.  Harold works with a man who picks them up at yard sales and restores them and then sells them again.  Camilla has always wanted to learn how to play.  Everyone was excited, but it’s Camilla who pulls it out every day to practice the chords.  It is a 7/8 size so it’s a little too big for her, but not so big that she can’t do it.  It’s just perfect for growing into.

                                                   

This is Your Day! - originally posted January 10, 2011

I think one of my favorite things about her birthday was the delight she had with singing “Happy Birthday.”  We couldn’t sing it too much for her.  Sarah and Camilla taught her how to blow out her candles on her cake.  We had to do it twice.

Happy Birthday Emma! - originally posted January 10, 2011

It was Emma’s birthday this week.  She is two years old.  I can hardly believe it!  Sometimes I wish I could slow her down and keep her little.  But she would never allow such a ludicrous thing.  That girl is determined to grow.  Oh well, I guess I’m just going to have to savor every minute so that no matter how fast it goes at least I will know I tasted it.

I think a new tradition has emerged with Emma’s birthday.  I haven’t taken the tree down so the night before her birthday when Joshua and Sarah were helping me blow up balloons we decided to stuff the tree full of balloons.  It was her birthday tree.  We put her gifts under it and let her open them there while the older kids dumped more balloons over her head.

I think one of my favorite things about her birthday was the delight she had with singing “Happy Birthday.”  We couldn’t sing it too much for her.  Sarah and Camilla taught her how to blow out her candles on her cake.  We had to do it twice.