Trust

Tave was sitting with me today in our dining room. He wanted to see the tv, though, so he kept leaning farther and farther back to see around the divider. I had my hands behind his back, holding him up so he wouldn't fall, and he just hung out there for a while as he caught a glimpse of his show.
I caught a glimpse of something else: trust.
He trusted me completely. He knew that I would hold on to him and would not let him fall. A feeling of love and appreciation ran through me...it felt so good to know that my little boy trusted his mom. No doubts or fears, he knew that I was there.

Does my Heavenly Father feel that way with me? Am I trusting him and leaning on him to make sure I don't fall?

This little moment with Tave reminded me of an experience I had with my Heavenly Father recently.
We have been trying to sell our home and have been so frustrated that nothing was happening. We have been praying and praying that the right thing would happen, at the right time. We had felt so good about putting the house on the market that that must mean we were supposed to sell. But nothing. Then more of nothing. And more of nothing. I started getting angry. We are living in limbo, hoping to sell, getting excited any time a potential buyer comes to look. Cleaning, organizing, you know the drill. And it just wasn't happening. I felt like Heavenly Father just wasn't listening and we must not be doing something right. But I didn't know what.

And then something did happen. We had just gotten back from our trip to CA and I had misplaced a large amount of cash. I had looked and looked and looked everywhere I could think it might be and even places there is no way it would have been. I was starting to get frantic. I had casually mentioned to Jeff that it was missing one day but kind of blown it off saying I put it somewhere safe and couldn't remember where that was (oh the joys of pregnancy) and I'm sure I'll find it soon. But I could.not.find.it. Who really likes to admit they lost a lot of money to their spouse?? After about 2 weeks of searching I had to let him know that it really was gone.
His response was to ask if I had prayed about it. "Well, kind of." was my answer. I had been having that silent plea/prayer in my heart that goes something like this: "Heavenly Father please please please help me FIND THIS MONEY!" But I hadn't acutally knelt down and discussed my problem with my Father.
So we did. Right then. And it felt so good.
Afterwards, I knew I needed to keep looking for a few minutes while I tried to let the spirit direct me. (because it's pretty lame to go to bed right after asking for something...like you expect not to get an answer so you don't even listen....this is a problem I've had)
I immediately opened my nightstand drawer, picked up a make-up case that I had not looked in --because who puts money in a make-up case-- and voila, the money was THERE! (That is when I remembered I had put it in there to keep it safe, because no one would think to look for money in a make-up case...haha, including me.)
I was overwhelmed with gratitude and a love for my Heavenly Father. We knelt down again to tell our Him just that.

This 'something that happened' taught me that my Father does know me. He does hear my prayers. And if he's going to answer a simple, small prayer over a sum of money that is not that significant in the grand scheme of things, then he will answer my prayers in the big things. The big things like direction in life, selling a home, having more children, etc. And it's not up to me to decide when something happens, just to trust that it will. That is what I was not doing right.

As Tave continued to lean back in my arms I remembered this experience. I remembered that I, too, have a Father who loves me and doesn't want me to fall. And from now on, I am going to trust Him.

What (not) to say

I have really gotten some funny comments lately. Yes, I realize that my tummy literally looks like I have swallowed an entire watermelon.
However, do I really need to be reminded of that multiple times a day? I usually just laugh it off and then proceed to tell Jeff & my sister about each and every comment. (maybe in a somewhat whiny voice...I guess I'm not as good at laughing it off as I want to be. I'll work on that)
So here's to me:

Dear self in 20 years,

You haven't been pregnant in about 20 years, so you might have forgotton how it feels to get bigger and bigger and yes, even bigger than you ever thought our body could be. You also might have forgotten how uncomfortable and squished you feel, in particular that last month. And you may even have forgotton that you just feel completely unattractive no matter how many different outfits you try on. But I don't think you will have forgotten what an incredible feeling it is to have someone growing inside you. A special, wonderful little person that you just cannot wait to meet. I don't think you will ever forget those tender, sweet moments when you and Jeff watched that little one dance around your tummy. And you most definitely will remember how excited you were for that little guy to just make his appearance already.
So self, with some of those things in mind, here are a few pointers on what (not) to say to an expectant mom...particuarly one who is due soon.

What NOT to say:

Wow, you look like you're going to pop! (umm, am I really a balloon? Yeah, didn't think so)
Oh, look at that waddle. (oh what, now I'm a duck?)
You look miserable. (really? Because I'm not the most comfortable, but I do love that I'm going to have a baby. No really, I do.)
Laughing. You have a watermelon in there. (last time I checked it was just a baby)
Bet you can't wait to pop that baby out. (it's more of a push actually)
You are HUGE! (and all this time I thought I'd lose weight when I got pregant)
Look at that basketball! (I think I preferred the watermelon)

What to say:

You must be so excited to meet him!
How are you feeling?
How are the boys/hubby?
Do you have a name picked out? (in case you forget, this is one question you could talk about for hours)
When is your baby due? (very tactful..especially since they may not be as far along as they look)
Do you need any help?
Can I bring you a meal. Actually, I am bringing you a meal, I am sure you need a break. (do this. it will be such a help)
You look great!! Seriously, you look so cute pregnant. (even if this is not true, it is the nicest thing to say. period.)
You make pregnancy look inviting. (you just made my day)
You look like a model for expectant moms. I saw a show on tv with pregnant models and you really could be one of them. (okay, this just made my entire pregnancy)

So self, when you have long forgotten the woes of pregnancy (becuase they do fade and just the happy wonderful moments stand out) please remember that under that very large, very round, very watermelon-esque belly, there is a mom who just wants to feel cute. Who just wants to make it through the heat of being pregnant in July. And who just wants to meet her baby. All without the daily reminders that she is getting bigger, looking less cute, and looking pretty much miserable. Point out the good and remind her that she is a part of something incredible.
And if you can't do that, just smile and serve.

Love,
Your very pregnant 20 years younger self

ps. every single one of these comments come from actual experience
ps again. if any of you happened to make a comment that is on the NOT list...don't worry, I am very forgetful when I'm pregnant so I don't remember who said what

Valiant

The young women in our ward went to girl's camp this week. They sang a beautiful song in sacrament meeting with all of the leaders. (A song they learned at camp). And even though I wasn't at their girl's camp, I was brought back to the memories of my own.

I don't remember a lot of specifics. But I do remember the feeling of togetherness. The feeling of being loved, strengthened, and supported by all of the other young women my age, who were striving to do what is right in the midst of all the temptations and trials that come at that time. I remember my incredible leaders, who were the kind of women I wanted to be. I remember the laughter and the fun and the spiritual high that I was on once I came home. I felt renewed and full. My testimony was stronger and I was better, because of the Spirit I felt at camp. Most of all, I remember the music. Those songs that showed me who I was and who I could become.

This song that the young women sang today brought all of that back. It reminded me of myself 15 years ago. Struggling and hoping, making choices and learning from mistakes. Wondering who I really would become and what my life held for me.

My life still holds a lot of unknowns. But I know who I am and who I am becoming. I am a mother, I am a wife, but first and foremost, I am a daughter ~ of a Heavenly Father who knows and loves me. I know there are trials ahead that I will have to have valiant faith to withstand. And I know that I will make it through. Because I have a relationship with my Father and my Savior. I am not perfect, but I am on my way to being that woman that I wondered about and thought of so often.

As I listened to the gorgeous music and inspired lyrics, I realized that it isn't just a song for the young women. It is for all women. And it is just as applicable to my life now as it is for those girls who were standing in front of me.

I want to be that warrior of light. I want to live with honor and faith.
I want to be able to stand in front of my Father in Heaven, knowing that I did not live halfway- I gave everything I had and I followed fearlessly in faith.

It was just the reminder I needed.

Valiant Faith by Jenny Phillips/Tyler Castleton

Too many people are
Just sliding by
Plugged into the world
But missing the meaning of life

But I was born to be
A warrior of light
With faith to move mountains
And the power of God
Filling my life

I want to live my life with honor and faith
I want to return to His arms unashamed
It's not enough for me to live it half way
I'll follow Him fearlessly all of my days
I will live
With valiant faith

I've lived for ages
I prepared for this life
I won't be confused
And cross to the enemy's side

I am girded
With power and truth
I'm siding with God
He's pouring out blessings
In all that I do

Chorus

Valiantly, fearlessly
I am fighting fo the mighty king
Valiantly, fearlessly
I am fighting for the mighty king

Chorus

Private

This is my personal journal. Which I don't mind sharing with some of you.
But I do mind sharing it with strangers who leave weird comments.
Which, honestly, I've been getting a lot of.
Maybe they are nice people. Maybe they are saying something really great.
But I wouldn't know because they are in japanese characters. (or chinese?? I have no clue)
And that is just weird to me.
So I am making this blog private.
Let me know if you want an invite. I won't be offended if you don't.
And I WILL be writing once a week from now on. Hopefully more, but at least once a week.
I'll pick a day.
Hmm, Sundays are nice.
I'll be writing every Sunday evening.
Thanks for keeping up with this sort-of forgotten blog.
See you Sunday.
:)

Sharing songs

I am listening to the sweet, precious sound of my 2 year old singing 'Happy Birthday' to his brother... his brother who happens to be sleeping.
They truly share a room now. And by that I mean, they enjoy each other's company and love going to sleep with their brother in the bed next to theirs.

This wasn't always the case, and it has been a long time coming:

Weston wants to share a room.
They share.
Tave cries and is very loud.
Weston can't sleep.
Weston cries.
This happens over and over and over. Jeff and I want our sleep.
West begs to have his own room.
We move him in his own room.
He hates it and wants to share a room with his brother.
We say no. He chose to have his own room.
He cries. He begs. He asks nicely. He says he'll be good and stay in his room with his brother. Even if Tave cries.
We move Weston back.
Tave cries.
West stays. But he doesn't love it.
Until now.
Now they say goodnight to each other after we have left the room.
Now they laugh and giggle.
Now they sing songs to each other, even when one of them is sleeping.

Whole

When I was little I couldn't understand how my mom and dad could love all of us equally. More kiddos would come into our family and it seemed like (at first) that my parents just couldn't love me as much if there was someone else to love more.

Silly, I know. But it was real to me and didn't seem to make sense.

I learned over the years that they did love me and they loved my siblings, too. And there is room enough in everyone's heart to love more and more.



But it wasn't until I became a parent that I really understood what happens in a heart. That incredible way your heart just expands and loves where it never has before. With each new person, new life, new love, my heart has grown in a way it could not have done without that person to fill it.

And bit by bit, that loving is helping my heart to become whole.

Becoming a mother

The past couple of months I have been observing. Learning. Becoming.

I want to be a better mom. I want to be the BEST mom for my kids. The best version of me that I can.
And so I see:

I see the sweet way other mother's interact. Their kind words and softly spoken reprimands.
I see the patience and love they give even when they are frustrated.
I see them wake up before everyone else so they can get a headstart on the day.
I see them change diets to keep their children healthier.
I see them fix meals that will make their children stronger.
I see them give up something now for something that will be better later.
I see them give and give and give with a happiness in their heart because they are being a Mom.

I see and learn from the amazing women I am blessed to have in my life and maybe, hopefully, I can take the best of what I see and use that to become the best mom for my boys.

Thank you for your examples.

Mother's Day Thoughts

Sometimes, right in the middle of a crazy, busy day I take a breath and realize I am a mom. I am living my dreams right now and reveling in the ooey gooey sticky messes of motherhood. It isn't exactly how I thought it would be because I am not the perfect mother I planned on. But my boys allow me to make mistakes, to learn, and to grow. They give me kisses, they ask me to sing songs, and they want me to play with them constantly. These little blessings that I prayed for, wished for, and spent 9 months excitedly awaiting their arrival are here. And I don't want to miss one minute of their adoring love and devotion.

Just the other morning Tave was in his crib crying (actually screaming) for me. But I was tired and had decided I was over his month long obsession with all things mom. So I asked Jeff to go get him in what could not be described as a nice voice. Jeff, (who is the perfect husband) went and got him but not without leaving me with something to think about. He said "You should just appreciate how much he loves you."

Whether I like it or not, my boys are going to grow up. And they will not always want my hugs, my kisses, a snuggle in my lap, and one of mom's crazy songs. So I will give them everything I can right now and appreciate every bit of love I get back. (even if it comes too early in the morning)
I am blessed to be a mom and I love it.

A Happy Happy Mother's Day to:

My own wonderful Mother- who taught me how to love by first loving me.

My amazing Mother in Law - who loved my husband and helped him become the man I fall in love with over and over again.

Every inspiring mother in my life. I want to be like you.