Mom, Wife and More . . .

I recently read an article that basically degraded the role of women from the beginning of time.  I wonder if the woman who wrote it either had the worst childhood ever or she just plain hates her mother, who lived an average life and gave birth to her and raised her.  I don't know, for how she turned out, maybe her mother is horrible.  It did however make me think.  Most women who responded were basically outraged as the article described women who get married and have babies are basically lazy and are not leading fulfilling productive lives.  She basically states that women who choose to be a wife and a mother are not living up to their full potential and are basically settling for mediocrity, taking the easy route, here I will just give you a taste . . . 

"Having kids and getting married are considered life milestones. We have baby showers and wedding parties as if it’s a huge accomplishment and cause for celebration to be able to get knocked up or find someone to walk down the aisle with. These aren’t accomplishments, they are actually super easy tasks, literally anyone can do them. They are the most common thing, ever, in the history of the world. They are, by definition, average. And here’s the thing, why on earth are we settling for average?   . . . If women can do anything, why are we still content with applauding them for doing nothing?" (Amy Glass)

First of all, this woman has obviously never been in a meaningful successful relationship.  A happy relationship alone takes work.  It takes thought.  It takes stepping outside of yourself and considering another human being in every choice you make.  My own relationship hit the rocks a couple years ago, it was literally hell.  However, this other human being means so much to me and me to him that we have been and are willing to go through the work of repairing and making our relationship better.    This work being much more difficult than any physical feat I have ever accomplished (having carried and given to birth to 5 babies naturally that is saying something).  The term mentally and emotionally exhausting is actually factual.  A relationship can be just that, but, now here's the catch and here is why we are willing to put in the work, it can also bring you more joy and peace and fulfillment than any personal accomplishment ever could.  It makes you a better, less selfish, happier person.  This is why we celebrate, this is why we throw showers and wedding parties, to celebrate the joy, not the accomplishment, but the joy.  

Secondly, this woman has obviously never had children, or probably even helped care for another persons little humans.  Children are work.  No maybe, we don't get any awards or raises, or promotions from bearing and raising our future generation, but they take everything from you as a woman, as a human.  From the moment you conceive this precious little life, you begin to give of yourself completely.  What a beautiful thing, to give yourself COMPLETELY to make another humans existence possible.  I myself worked through my first 3 pregnancies while throwing up for the entire 9 months.  I had healthy pregnancies, I am lucky, but imagine feeling like you have the stomach flu for 9 months straight while going to work, to a job you actually enjoyed, taking care of littles (mine were 4 and 2 during #3) as well for the second two pregnancies, and maintaining a household as well.  However, my real work didn't begin there, not at my job, but it truly began when I decided to stay home full-time with these little gems.  It's not for everyone, it is HARD.  Not only are you constantly wiping food off the floor and walls and counters and out of the carpet, or washing little hands and feet and faces, or finding healthy meals and snacks (my boys are always hungry) or teaching them to share or color or not hit or help pick up toys, or trying to get them to nap or go to bed,  or finding ways for them to use their energy like going on walks, riding bikes, going to the park, playing cars, or legos or anything so they aren't bouncing off the walls, or helping them with homework, or helping them learn to read or play a game, or teaching them to shoot a basket, play catch or kick a goal, or kissing owies and comforting them, or staying up all night with a sick child, or cleaning up more poop and throw-up than you ever imagined, the list could keep going, but you are molding this tiny human being into the type of full grown human being they will become.  This is a huge responsibility.  Overwhelmingly huge, and God gave you the trust to do it.  God doesn't care how well we walk through Asia, or make spreadsheets, or if we are doing the job of our dreams unless we are helping others and becoming better along the way.  He doesn't care about our accomplishments, he cares about people, he cares about people being happy.  Yes, all of those things can make you happy, and all of those things can be celebrated, but in the long run it's the people that matter, not the accomplishment, it's the joy not the high five or well done.  

Now this is where I started thinking because I don't always find joy in the journey.  I don't always appreciate that these tasks are actually doing what I believe, showing my children how to become good responsible loving humans.  I don't always remember that this isn't average.  I sometimes feel like I'm losing myself, my talents to just being a mom and a wife.  I sometimes want to run away and do the things I want to do and not clean and cook and break up fights all day.  But, then my 5 year old will tell me a funny joke about farts, then my 1 year old will cling to my leg until I take the moment to hold him and cuddle him as he rubs my cheek and hugs me, then my 4 year old will tell me how beautiful the clouds are while fully dressed as batman, then my unborn baby boy will kick me in the belly which is magical and strange all at once, then my 10 year old will tell me about the worlds largest dinosaur and pronounce it's name correctly and teach me what era it was from and where it was found, then my 8 year old will giggle uncontrollably at a movie line, repeating it over and over again and I see the joy.  I see the accomplishment.  I see that I have somehow given these little humans life, when truly they complete mine.  

Here was my second thought.  I don't know for sure, but I think there are other moms and wives out there that have had my same feelings of losing themselves and not accomplishing all that they could.  I think that there are women out there that do need more of an outlet than talking to a toddler all day.  Here is the beautiful part, they are doing it.  They are accomplishing motherhood, housekeeper, cook, taxi driver, tutor, loving companion, and more.  The so called mommy bloggers she referred to, they are doing this incredible task of "average" life and more.  I look at women out there creating and connecting and teaching others and doing things they love from their homes while at the same time being wonderful moms and wives.  Because they are cultivating their talents, they are growing as human beings, while at the same time enriching the lives of their children and husbands.  They are successful in so many ways it is astounding.  I am so impressed, in awe and inspired by these women.  When being a wife and mom started to feel too overwhelming for me, I taught myself to sew, albeit it began with halloween costumes for my children.  I then found social media, which can be debilitatingly distracting but also connecting and informative and I found this amazing blog ana-white.com  and I taught myself to build furniture, yes once again everything I have built has been for my children, lego tables, picnic table, sandbox, highchair, etc.  I found pinterest and I challenged myself in the kitchen getting out of my rut of a menu, and my husband and I both have benefitted.  I consider myself as good a chef as any culinary artist out there.  No, my foods may not be as exotic as some, but I keep learning and trying.  I have learned yoga, cross-fit, dance, pilates, yogalates, running races, ballet barre routines all from connecting with wives and mothers.  I am learning new things all the time from these amazing women out there called stay-at-home wives and moms who are enriching the lives of others while becoming much more than average themselves.  

My husband and I also still get out and see the world despite the fact that we got married and had 5 children.  We have been to Hawaii together, California, Chicago, Mexico, we've gone on a cruise while I was pregnant none the less.  No, we haven't seen the whole world or even country yet, but we will.  We go to concerts, professional soccer games, NBA games, and we even go to dinner and the movies at least once a week.  Even more shocking, there isn't anyone else I'd rather do these things with, especially not by myself, and, guess what, they bring us both joy! 

I myself have never judged women who, whether out of necessity or desire, continue to work outside of the home after marriage or even having children.  Every person is different.  Every person has different wants or needs.  I have many friends who are wives, mothers, and work full-time and enjoy their careers and their families, shocking I know.  These women are amazing!  My mom and mother-in-law are two of them.  I don't understand people that don't want to have children, I think its unnatural, but I am not going to judge them either.  I feel sorry that they will never hold an infant in their arms and feel that immense joy, that loving connection, that they will never feel the pride that I feel when my kids learn something new.  I understand people that don't want to get married, coming from a broken home (and marrying a man from a broken home) marriage scared me to death and with good reason, and I am happy that I overcame my fear, took the risk and am feeling the joy!  It is hard.  Parenthood is hard.  They take work.  They take being able to give, and give, and give some more.  There is no room for selfishness in either of these things.  Once again, I wouldn't trade all that work and giving for all the traveling in the world, for all the personal success, for all the accomplishment, because I have the greatest joy that can be had.  Yes, someday I want to travel with my husband and grown kids (when they are little its not really a vacation), someday I want to learn to paint, someday I want to actually finish one of the many books I have started writing, someday I want to have more adventures and learn all these new things and guess what, there is still time, my kids won't always be in diapers, they won't always need me so much sadly and I will do all the things my heart desires.  I will and I will share the joy those things bring me with the people I love and adore and the joy will be returned one hundred fold.  We cannot take accomplishments with us into eternity.  Those moments are fleeting, but I believe that our families will be forever.  The accomplishments just add to the joy, but what good is joy without loved ones to share it with?  

For now, I am a mom.  I am a wife.  I clean my house more than I wish was necessary.  I do laundry, oh so much laundry!  I cook.  I coach basketball.  I play basketball.  I write.  I build things.  I color.  I read.  I teach.  I cut hair.  I run.  I bike.  I swim.  I dance.  I exercise.  I nourish.  I encourage.  I comfort.  I grow humans.  I make love.  I create, and more.  I am not average.   

P.S. You don't hear men complain about how hard it is to do housework and take care of children because most men work outside of the home full-time and do not experience it.  They have a different role. Talk to some stay-at-home dads once in a while and you might hear a different tune.  However, every father will agree that being a good parent is harder than you think, that role they do share. 

Drum Roll . . .

Its' a BOY!!!  

I am officially a "boy mom" forever.  That is truly all I have ever been, but this time for sure I have accepted it to be so.  My last boy, and the 2 before that I cried a little when I was told yet again that it was not a girl.  This time my husband warned the ultrasound technician that this was our sixth baby and that the rest were boys, so she nervously avoided the area checking everything else first.  I actually saw the boy parts as she was looking at the legs, after five you get pretty good at spotting them, but I waited to let her announce the official statement. I actually felt peace and even a smudge of relief mingled with a tingle of excitement.  I truly was meant to have all boys.  I have said it before, but this baby is definitely my last.  I now have two more kids than my original plan, and it is hard ad crazy and I feel a lot of the times that I don't give each of them enough of what they need,  however, I cannot imagine my life without a single one of them.  Well, maybe my five year old, just kidding!  He will teach me the most I am sure.  

My husband and I were talking about meekness last night in the middle of the 5th row at an NBA basketball game of all places.  To be meek is described as being, humble, submissive, obedient, gentle, kind, quiet, teachable, long suffering, patient, full of love, childlike. . . Moroni 7:43 "And again, behold, I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart."  The scriptures also discuss the meek inheriting the earth and, only those who are meek may appear before God.  But, for today, for right now, here in the midst of the muck and grime of this life, the heartache and trials and sorrow we face, for me at least, having faith and hope are essential.  Without faith and hope I do not think I could face each day.  For the past few weeks, I haven't haven't been facing each day.  I have been hiding from life locked in the gloom and fears in my mind.  For whatever reasons, mental or physical, the light has been sucked out and left me anxious, dark and least of all meek.  When I read that to have faith and hope one must be meek, I looked back on how I have dealt with my recent state.  There has been very little meekness involved.  

Along with all of my other goals, which are not going perfectly, but they are still going, I am going to strive to be meek.  I am not a soft, cuddly, lovey, feminine kind of woman.  My life has given me hell and in order to keep going I have had to be tough, rough even.  The deep chasms of my mind have been engrained with survival techniques, defense mechanisms.  I have been a fighter since a young age and sometimes  you have to give up the fight.  So I am going to practice being more gentle, more kind, more full of love, more quiet, more teachable and definitely more patient.  

I always hoped that if I had a girl, she would help soften, calm even tame my boys a bit because they are all wild and rambunctious, fighting and farting type of boys.  I guess now it is my job to become that girl that can soften my boys.  

Google and Apple are in a fight . . .

I think it has been a week since the last time I wrote.  However, I feel like I have a legitimate excuse and it is Not my fault.  I was complaining to my husband about our internet and how slow and unreliable it was acting all of a sudden and then after a few days I noticed it was only two websites that I frequented.  Gmail and Blogger.  Both Google companies.  He then informed me that Google and Apple are in a fight, so whether accurate or not, I surmised that Google somehow has it in for all of us Apple users.  I love my Mac and pretty annoyed at whatever Googles real issues are.  There you have it my excuse.  Corporate America.  Who else could I blame.  They ruin everything right?  Right?  Ha!

As I write, I am taking turns with my four year old being shot and shooting him in return as he laughs and says, "hahaha you died and you are bleeding."  A little disturbing perhaps.  With all the violence and crimes and sadness that are abundant in this  sad time people are always looking for answers as to why.  Why would someone shoot a school full of innocents?  Why would someone take their families lives and their own?  Why would someone . . . ?  I think the answers are far more complex and based on those individuals than anyone can surmise.  '

To swing the train of thought a bit, I have always been surprised with the very nature of boys, at least my boys.  They are drawn to weapons,  they are drawn to wrestling, they are drawn to all the things that would suggest their very spirits were warriors in the life before.  They are aggressive and protective and defend what they consider to be their own.  I am pretty sure, unless he is staying up nights without my knowledge watching war movies, that my four year old has had minimal exposure to violent movies, or shows with gun fights and killing and graphic blood.  He does have three older brothers which I am sure have taught him the minor details, but the fact that as kids boys play guns, they play cops and robbers, they act out these things makes me wonder about their very nature and what is ingrained in them just as animals are given instincts to survive.  

My husband and I were watching our one year old attack may be a strong word, but yell and charge after his older brother took a toy.  Fight or flight right there.  He is practically baby, yet he was defending what he thought was rightfully his and was willing to do whatever it took to get it back.  Kind of amazing really.  Not that I want my boys to grow up and be violent murdering humans, but I hope that with some good teaching moments and morals they will be able to hone that nature in and use it to stand up for themselves, their families and what they believe is right.

I hope that they will become strong in their convictions and love themselves enough to have to courage to stand up to bullies, to stand up for others being bullied, to not cower when faced with something scary.  Fear is much too powerful.  I myself have been a victim of fear for far too much of my life.  However, I remember as a little girl not being afraid of anything.  I wasn't afraid to try new things,  I wasn't afraid to speak my mind, I wasn't afraid to lose because I believed I could and would always win.  Unfortunately, we all taste fear eventually.  I hope that I can teach my boys how to deal with fear better than I have.  I know it can be done.  I hope that I can teach them to use their nature to their advantage, not to hurt others, but to protect themselves and make them stronger men in the long run.  

So, to you Apple and Google, for my sake I hope you figure your fight out, but at the same time, it is pretty impressive the fight you have taken on to become so successful.  One, can only hope that there is still a small amount of integrity left in both of your companies and not just sheer greed.  More people in this world need to hold onto that fight.  More people need to not care about the fear and take the risks needed to grow.  More people need to find that animal instinct inside of us, stand up and be instead of settle for what is easiest, myself included.    

Competitive Nature

I grew up with three brothers.  My mom did have two more girls when I turned 9 and 11, but by that time I was pretty set in my ways as most children are.  I had already been molded by my surroundings, that being three rowdy brothers that treated me more like a brother than the sweet sister they had.  Nevertheless, I was a tomboy.  I was more than happy to leave my baby dolls with my mom to watch them, and chase after my brothers playing in the dirt, building tree forts, riding bikes, playing legos and cars and lincoln logs.  Being outside was definitely my favorite past time.  I don't think I thought shoes were a necessity until I was at least 10.  I was a barefooted, dirt smudged, knees torn, scraped up little girl and I loved it.  Running with the boys also meant keeping up with or beating the boys.  I remember when I was 12 years old I would challenge the neighborhood boys to races, me on foot, them on roller blades or bikes.  I learned that to survive with all these boys I had to be tough and I had to be competitive.  I think to be competitive you have to have the constant belief that you will win.  No matter what you are doing, you deep down believe that you have the ability to be better than whomever you are up against.  As a kid I believed that.  I wasn't afraid of anything or anyone.

As an adult I still hold on to this nature.  I truly love to win.  Even, more I truly hate to lose.  My hate for losing has simmered slightly as I have gotten older.  When I first got married, my husband and I decided to start playing tennis as we had a court in our neighborhood.  My husband had played as a kid, I had maybe picked up a racket.  My nature however led me to believe that I could do anything and I could be good at it.  Now, I wasn't bad, it didn't come naturally, but I could have been much worse.  Keeping my control in check was my biggest problem, and perhaps is a metaphor for my life.  I wanted to hit it hard and fast and I could, but keeping it in between the lines was the hard part.  I threw many fits, which are so excruciatingly embarrassing now, every time I lost to my husband.  I was not used to losing and I had not learned how to do so gracefully  We had similar situations when he taught me to play chess as well.  I recall even tipping the board up once in my anger scattering the pieces everywhere.  What a fun start to a new marriage!!!

To my defense I had recently started a way too intense form a birth control which started my epic hormonal unbalance.  Some women can handle hormones fine, this woman however has moods like the devil when my hormones are out of sorts.  Unfortunately that was just the beginning of a long road of these moody times what with 11 years of pregnancy and postpartum and pregnancy and postpartum and pregnancy, well you get the point.  However, that first experience with birth control, where I no longer felt like myself, where all my emotions constantly boiled at the surface, where my rage took over at the drop of a hat, and my tears flowed helplessly after was enough for me to know that birth control was not for me, thus all of the ensuing children to follow.

I will say that I have learned to deal with my hormonal surges slightly better, sometimes it takes me a day or even week to realize that the reason I want to scream or cry all the times is due to these wonderful necessities coursing through my veins, but I have found natural supplements, breathing, exercise and just plain mental focus to help control the beast.  Being aware and in tune with it is probably the hardest part.  It is definitely easier to just let the wild monsoon of craziness take over and let it run its course with little or no regard to all the damage it does to everyone surrounding me. Sadly, my kids and husband are still victims, more lately than I am proud to admit, but I am trying.  Last night my 10 year old said to me, and it made me so happy and sad all at once that I nearly did cry, "Mom, you seem like you are in such a good mood right now, like all day.  Usually by this time of night you are all mad and yelling because no one is helping clean up."  One small victory, despite the fact that I did have to continue reminding everyone last night to help, I did control the yelling.  We can only win the war one battle at a time right?

Other than the fact that I have had to resign to the fact hat my husband almost always wins and hates to lose as well, I have also had to resign to the fact that I cannot control everything.  I think that comes with competitiveness as well.  We are a controlling bunch.  Letting go of this control is indeed very difficult.  No matter how much I yell or stomp my feet or punch walls, I cannot make anyone do anything.  I can hope, I can ask, I can even beg, but in the end we all have our own agency.  Learning to let go of this control is not easy.  Learning to express my feelings and make others aware of what the outcome on my end will be according to their choices is all I can do.  After that I oh so stubbornly have to accept whatever happens.  Accepting this however, realizing that I cannot control everything around me, has helped me to deal with the nuances of life, slowly but surely, in a better way.  Learning that yelling is not going to fix anything, it's not going to make me feel better, it's not going to make my kids or husband feel better, it's only going to damage me and everyone around me more and more.  I know this, I tell my husband this when he yells and I am actually calm, but putting it into practice is just that.  It takes practicing it day after day after day.  I am now on day 2 in a row of no yelling.  Wish me luck!  Perhaps I need one of those safety signs as a reminder "such and such days with no accidents."

Someday I will will accomplish an entire week, maybe even a month and hopefully sooner than later, my need to win, control and yell will cease to exist.  Challenge accepted!  However, I don't want to lose all of my competitiveness.  In this nature I have become strong.  I have the confidence to stand up for myself and my children.  I have to strength to stand up to grown men if I need to.  These parts, the good parts I hope to rub off on my boys, to help them become strong men with a desire to win, but maybe a little less intensely.  

Lost in my mind.

My mind is a dark and a dangerous place.
It won't let me forget all the things I wish I could erase.
It holds me hostage to my fear and my pain.
I can't escape the memories, the hurt still remains.
My mind is a dark and a dangerous place.
I don't know how to even Plan an escape.
The black it pulls at every waking breath.
Strangling each inhale heavy on my chest.
My heart in my throat feels about to explode.
I wish the thoughts that haunt would erode.
Distract they say, keep busy and breathe.
Find your peace in fulfilling things.
Fresh air sunshine meditate but nothing seems to release me completely.
My mind is a dark and dangerous place.
Triggered by phone calls like a bomb in the night.
Music and words send my thoughts spiraling
Into an abyss thick with the fog of the past.
I can't pull myself out of this sinking hole I'm in.
My bed seems like the only safe place to rest.
Sleep off the pain and exhaustion I try.
The blackness turns blue for a little while.
It grows dark again the longer I stay awake
Fading into nightmares and reminders in the night.
My mind is a dark and a dangerous place.

I'M DONE MOM!!!

Blerg!  Kind of funny.  I sat down to write and immediately my train of thought was interrupted by the yells of my 3 year old, "I'M DONE MOM!!!"  I  can't count how many times I have heard these ver words in the last nine years.  After my last baby was born, I actually started a mental countdown in my mind as to first, when I would be done changing diapers, and second when I would be done wiping bums.  I actually had an end in sight even if it was 4 years down the road.  I also started a countdown as to when my kids would all be done with kindergarten and preschool.   To a tie when I would have entire days in a row where I wouldn't be rushing to accomplish things in the morning while I had one less tag-a-long for two and a half hours before I had to pick them up from school and start round two of meals and clean up for the day.  Quite comical really how as a mom these are the things we look forward to.  An entire school day without interruption to the daily tasks or hey maybe even desires we have.

However, there are those few moms out there, my mom was one and my sister-in-law another, that homeschool their children.  To those women I tip my hat.  That is truly amazing in my mind.  I was not gifted the patience to teach my children everything.  I struggle with the things I do teach them, like tying shoes, zipping jackets, making a pb&j.  I do however love watching them try to figure things out. My #2 son is my thinker, my puzzler, my architect, or my engineer in the making if you will.  I loved watching him as a baby and a toddler.  He could entertain himself for hours just trying to figure out how things worked.  I remember watching him slide a toy through a slot in the legs of a stack of chairs and try to watch it as it clanked its way down to the floor.  Then, he would pick it up and do it again and again until he was satisfied with how it got from point A to point B.  He could dress himself, and demanded it before the age of two, which was baffling to me as my first would have had me dress him until he was 7 if I had let him.

Another thing I have noticed about my children is that my two brunettes #1 and #3 are very much alike in temperament, learning styles, likes and dislikes, even their teeth are both perfect with no cavities.  Also, my blondes #2 and #4, they are both more independent and like to learn new things, and do things on their own, they both play best alone where as the brownies have always needed someone to be with them, and yes the blondies teeth are both horrible and have been since a very young age despite that fact that I brush them both the same as the other two.  Now my #5 will be interesting because he started out dark and is slowly turning to a sandy blonde, but now a true toe head like my other blondes. So, he is my inbetweener.  Perhaps he will offer some balance in our home as well as be a balanced child.  So, far that is true.  He is easy going.  He can entertain himself, but also loves to follow his big brothers around. He likes to figure things out, but is ok with you showing him how as well, without throwing a giant fit.  He will eat almost anything, but is a little skeptical with the first bite.

I love watching these little people grow and develop, you can truly tell that they are their own person from the minute they are born, even before in the womb for that matter.  They have their own spirit and were a spiritual being with characteristics and traits long before they came to this earth.  It is truly amazing the gift a child can be in your life.  It is also magnanimously overwhelming to think that we as parents, who are already so flawed from this life, are responsible for helping them become who they are to be.  It is a wonder any of us turn out ok.  I am obviously not a perfect parent, but I hope to come close one day.  I have such great hopes of improving a little each day, and some days, most days lately, I have giant failures.  But, maybe, just maybe these cute little people I have been blessed with will teach me how to be a good mom yet.

Even if my diaper changing, bum wiping, kindergarten interrupting count down has to start back over, I know that someday I will truly miss these days.  These days of innocence.  Where I get to see the wonder in their eyes, I get to kiss their owies and tears away, I get to snuggle with them and tickle them, I get to dance in the living room and sing silly songs, I get to push them on swings and tow them behind my bike, I get to watch them learn new things and grow into themselves.  I know someday I will regret all the frustration and tears of exhaustion, the impatience and sadly the yells.  Although I look forward to the days when my boys will all be independent and we can all play together and enjoy sports and the outdoors together, I know I will miss these days with my littles.  Just like in pregnancy, I know I will forget all the hard parts, the sleepless nights, the bedwetting, the fits, the fighting, and I will yearn for these days again.  Today I promise to try a little harder to cherish each day instead of dread the annoyances.  Today I promise to try a little harder to laugh and to play more than command and expect.  Today I promise to try a little harder to enjoy the now and not always look forward to the peace and quiet of bedtime.

Snow Day

I think that snow days are hard on most people, unless that is you brave the cold and actually get out and play in it, and then they are wonderful.  But today was not a get out and play in it kind of day and the snow did not help.  I am so tired of trudging through my mind.  I actually have had counseling and have learned the steps and tools and things to do to fight off this muck.  But, for some reason this time it is much more difficult.  I'm praying it is these damn pregnancy hormones and that they will sort themselves out quickly.

I am normally the type of person that gets stir crazy.  I don't like to just be home and do nothing, well not nothing, but only home related things.  I like to get out of the house and play outside and just go to the store just to be out.  Lately that is not the case.  I more or less have to force myself to function.  We have actually run out of milk a few times in the last couple months as well as cheese and bread and many other things that is normally just unheard of, but lately I even have to force myself to grocery shop.

Today I had two highlights.  I went upstairs pretty begrudgingly to help my five year old find his lego guys helmet.  I ended up helping my two littles clean their room and watching them play with my 17 month old as he climbed into the lego table of duplos and zoomed his airplanes back and forth.  It was a tender mercy.

Next, I finally took a shower, yep one of those days, and while I was enjoying the silence for a minute I had a few memories flood into my mind.  Memories that were sweet and loving and precious.  Memories that I needed to remember about my husband.  Memories of times that I knew absolutely of the goodness of his heart and of his love for me.  This was truly a tender mercy.  One that left me sobbing of course, but in a good way this time.

I know that my Heavenly Father is aware of me and I know that my Savior feels my pain.  I read a blog post yesterday ( http://lemmonythings.wordpress.com/2014/01/05/god-will-give-you-more-than-you-can-handle-i-guarantee-it/ )about a woman struggling so badly with the death of her father that it had shaken her to her very core.  I have felt that shake in my life and right now it seems like I am reliving it in my mind for some silly reason.  She quoted this scripture which I need to remember so many times a day in my life that you would think I had dementia,“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me…for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11: 28-30)  I love it.  I need it.  I can do this with his help.  

"It's a regimen, like sit-ups . . ."

Last night I fell asleep to "Julie and Julia" and I felt guilt, not really, but we will say resolve to make sure I write every day.  Sleep has not been happening at night for this mama, seems I have someone creeping into my bed every night.  Now, when I say my bed I mean literally, they take over my bed.  They steal my pillow, they lay on top of the blanket making it impossible for me to have any more than a corner.  They lay with their feet in my face, their elbows in my back, their knees in my stomach, flinging arms throughout the night slapping me in the eye.  You get the picture.  I can only imagine that my current unease also has my children out of sorts.  Sleep deprivation definitely does not help anyone, especially when you already want to sleep all day.  All the more reason to get us all balanced and feeling good!

I also watched the movie "About Time" last night.  I loved it.  Feel good movie with the ultimate moral being, live each day to its fullest, try to look past the small annoyances and fears and anxieties that we let ruin our days and steal away our happiness.  Instead relish in the blessings and love we have around us.  If only life were as easily fixed in a two hour long movie where everything magically works out, I know, but it was a great reminder for me.  Something I need to truly work on.  I get so caught up in my head and the stress of managing everyday life that I forget to see the beautiful faces around me, their innocent eyes filled with wonder and thirsting for more from me.

I am so not a structured person, I hate schedules, I quit in the middle of so many things.  I  have a picnic table I built 3 years ago that was my first build and I used warped wood and I need to rent a tool to get the stupid thing level so I can paint it, but there it sits, bare wood, unfinished.  I have started writing 3 books only to get stuck and abandon them.  Perhaps the perfect story is still waiting inside there somewhere.  I have 4 blogs now, and I have left 3 of them neglected for at least a year, on of which is solely about my children.  I used to dance ballet.  I used to play the piano.  I used to sing, well I still sing in the shower and to my children and most commonly the verses that are written in my head.  But do I ever write those lyrics down?  I have multiple business ideas that have been left undeveloped.  The creativity is in there.  For some reason, despite all the excuses I can dish out . . . five kids, pregnant or with an infant for the past 11 years (most of my adult life), life trauma, I just don't see things through.  I don't want to make excuses anymore.  I don't want to be afraid of failure anymore.  I have always known hard work, so I don't think that it is too hard.  But maybe, maybe when I get overwhelmed with anything I shut down.

Second new years resolution: finish things.  So I am already 3 days behind plus the other 3 form not starting on the first, so that should make it 359 days of writing.  That is my goal.  If I don't accomplish another single goal, which I hope I do, but if that is the only one then perhaps I can break this cycle of never finishing anything!

It is comical because I decided to start this for me, about me, to help me.  Yet, every time I think about what I will write, it centers around my kids.  They truly are my life.  They consume me from the first eye squinting moment of wakefulness to nearly the time my eyes finally close and my thoughts finally rest and allow me to sleep.  They are who I am.  Some days I feel that is not enough.  Being a mom, yes that is amazing and should be fulfilling, and the moments it's not is all me I know for sure.  Truly if anything I feel inadequate in the moments where I want to run away.  I feel like a failure.  However, I think that it is the mundane tasks that seem to reflect on the surface of motherhood that I am truly tired of.  I feel like I am up for more in this life than cleaning the floors, and scrubbing toilets and walls sprayed with pee, I want more than to pick up toys, and dust shelves, and fold and fold and fold mountains of laundry.  I am more than a housekeeper, more than a full-time cook, more than a domestic professional.  I guess now I just need to figure out what more of me I want to become and how to get there.

I must say to all the bloggy moms out there that do these amazing projects and document them and photograph them and then share them and keep up with their readers, wow, can I have a few drops of that bottled energy and ambition you are stashing away.  I truly am in awe.  I love the saying, "there is a time and a season" even though I am the type of person that when I hear it I think, "ummm, that is just a cop out excuse."  But, ya know maybe I am also the type of person that is way too hard on me and everyone around me.  So, I am going to try and simmer down with all my expectations that just get trampled with failure and try to go against my nature and be understanding and compassionate even with me.

Wow, ok, talk about self evaluation and overload of things to work on.  Crap, I am far more imperfect than I even imagined, and I can do this.  In the words of Bob from "What about Bob?" baby steps.  That is all any of us can do is take life one baby step at a time.

2014

It's  a brand new year and I have been struggling to find hope in what it has to bring.  The last couple years and several others in my life have been trying, to say the least, but this resolution is not about the past, it is about helping me stay in the now and have more hope for the future.  One little side note from my past . . . I have had traumas as every human, and mine have left me with the dark abyss of depression that usually I can keep in check, but with my current challenge it has snuck in and is trying to stay.  I finally remembered the other day that writing, which I have neglected, is very therapeutic for the blackness in my mind and wounded soul.  I decided to start writing everyday.  I am going to write myself out of this dank mustering of self loathing that I have fallen into and hopefully become a better person in the process.

I have five adorable little energetic balls of hilarity and aggression that I call my boys.  Sometimes, they feel more like puppies or wild animals, and my husband and I joke that they are our dogs every time our boys ask for one so we don't need a real dog.  I am also currently pregnant and in two weeks will most likely confirm that I am currently growing our 6th boy puppy I mean human child.  IF this baby is a boy, I am actually very ok with it.  Boys, at least my boys, are busy.  They are pure energy and aggression.  They yell and argue and fight and wrestle and run around and rough house and don't seem to listen until the age of 7 and they even still whine, which to me seems like it should be against their genetic code, but they can also be very sweet and protective.  I love my boys.  Some days I want to kill them, and most days the fighting makes me feel like I am an insane person, but truly when I take a step back from the chaos, I wouldn't trade a single one of them.

Now, a girl on the other hand, I have always deep down hoped for a girl, but at the same time, they scare me to death.  I am not sure what i would do with a girl and all her feelings and attitude and hormones that would mirror mine to a "T" I know.  One me is probably enough in one household.  I am a tomboy with the aggression of boy and all the hormonal drama of a girl.  Besides the constant worry and fear that I would have about protecting a sweet little girl from all the horrors of this world, not that I don't have those fears for my boys, but I think with a girl it would be worse.  I think God knew boys were what I could handle.  However, it always brings tears to my eyes to think that I will never talk boys with a daughter, I will never help a daughter pick out her wedding dress and plan her special day, I will never help a daughter through pregnancy or be in the delivery room with her while she brings her child into the world.  Those things make me sad.  The void of those connections that I cherish so dearly with my own mom.

Truly, whatever this baby is, I know I will love him or her with all me heart.  However, I have been in such denial about even being pregnant that it doesn't feel real yet (besides the raging hormones, constant nausea, countless rounds of throwing up and my clothes getting tighter and tighter).  When I lie down and can feel the protruding bump below my navel, it feels so, and I hate this word, surreal.  You would think this was my first pregnancy and not my sixth because the emotions of disbelief and awe are so real.  Crazy to imagine I have another human child growing in my belly.  God entrusted me, who in my opinion am a little crazy, with one more human to teach and nurture.  Perhaps I need six chances to truly figure this motherhood thing out.  Perhaps, the healing that occurs inside of me when I have an infant is actually what I need in my life right now despite the fact that I feel increasingly overwhelmed everyday with the five boys I already have.  Or, perhaps, God just thought it would be a funny joke.  No really, I do believe He has a plan for us all, sometimes I only wish he would clue me in a bit more.

Today I start this journey.  Today I am choosing to write myself back into the light.  Today I choose to be in the now.  Today, in this moment, I feel a little bit better inside.