January 25, 2019

I love my husband. He absolutely means the world to me.  And our marriage is awesome. But we are thick in the trenches of parenthood.  We’ve got little ones and high schoolers.  We are dancing the same dance we’ve been dancing for years.  We laugh and love and play, and cry and get upset and apologize.  It’s marriage.  And it takes effort, and we face the pressures of life creeping in everywhere we turn.  He’s my partner and lover.  And I’m sure he’s trying his level best to be all that he can be…for me!  But I need so much from him.  And he needs so much from me.  It’s just the way it works.  We are like two draft horses yoked together—we need each other to survive.  We need the other one to keep pulling hard to move the load.  Neither one of us can stop and sit. It’s happy and hard, and I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.

A few weeks ago, our whole family watched the movie, “Only You,” with Marissa Tomei and Robert Downey, Jr.  It was as sweet and cheesy as ever.  The kids all loved it.  But I noticed something that made me a little lonely.  Faith, the main character, is super close with her sister-in-law, Kate.  They sit cross-legged together and eat pizza and easily talk.  They’ve grown up together.  Kate shows up at Faith’s house the exact moment she is trying on her husband’s grandmother’s wedding dress.  Faith is discouraged, and Kate laughs with her and promises to make it all okay.  And when Faith runs off hog-wild to catch a flight to Italy, chasing her destiny and some name she heard as a youngster, Kate doesn’t talk about budgets and responsibilities, she frantically packs a bag for Faith, races to the airport, and tells Faith that she is going to Italy right along with her.  And she does.

There is this moment in Italy, when Kate starts to cry about her marriage, thinking it’s probably over.  Faith is perched on a low rock wall, and Kate leans her head into Faith’s lap and cries.  Faith smoothes Kate's hair, and lovingly soothes her as they sit there leaning on each other, both with aching hearts.  Through all the ups and downs and crazy shenanigans they pull, they have each other.  

Now.  I know it’s just a movie.  But it made me lonely for a friendship like that.  I feel lonely for the kind of friend who has known you your whole life—who just gets you completely.  I want the kind of friend who is easy to be around, who makes life fun and full, who is battling similar battles in life, but they are her own, and mine are my own, and we don’t need each other to solve our problems, but we listen and understand each other.  I’m lonely for the kind of friend who is comfortable to lean against and who shows up at my door often. She needs to live close and be there in all the right moments.  And preferably have the kind of schedule that lets her drop everything and fly to Italy if that’s my current whim. It’s a tall order.  Ha ha.  I started thinking about the old saying that goes, to have a friend, you need to be a friend.  And I’m certainly not doing a good job being this kind of friend for anyone.  In fact, I’m rather overwhelmed.  

I was crying about this to my husband.  Sobbing actually.  Which felt good.  And he was listening so attentively while rubbing my feet, that I knew I would feel better because of his love.  I was trying to decide if he was really the only friend I need, but so many of our stresses are the same, and he can’t just casually show up, eat pizza and laugh with me, and then be on his way.  We are too entrenched in the same life, so interconnected that very few moments are as free and easy as that.  Besides, every man needs a good woman, and every woman needs a good man…AND a good woman (in other words, a friend!) I was calming down when my phone rang.  It was my mom.  I took some deep breaths, hoping to hide the fact that I had been sobbing.  A few sentences into the conversation, however, she asked if I had a cold.  So I told her I had been crying to Greg.  I told her how overwhelming my life is.  It is everything I want it to be, but it is more than I can almost handle sometimes.  So many people, so many stresses, so many things.  Mostly good things, but just so many things.  And no time to have a friend.

Soon, she had me laughing about her crazy stories when she was in my exact shoes. She told me that she understands what I’m going through.  She knows about the busy schedules and hefty church callings and family stresses.  And then she said, “Life is intense.  I know what you are going through, except I didn’t even have a microwave!”  We both burst out laughing.  I could hear the “hug” in her voice.  I asked her how she always made it through.  And she told me that every now and then, she’d have a good cry, just like I was doing, and then she would pull herself up by her bootstraps, just like she knew I would do, and she would move forward, learning, growing, getting better, and becoming better.   After that, I didn’t feel so lonely.  I'm so thankful for my mom.

I know I have people around me who care about me deeply.  It’s weird to feel lonely in a house full of people, but sometimes I do.  And that’s probably pretty normal.  I also know I won’t change anything about my life, even if it is overwhelming at times.  It is beautiful and hard.  And so I will pull myself up by my bootstraps and hang on for the ride.  There are a few relationships in my life that approach the “Faith and Kate” status, but time and distance have gotten in the way.  Instead, I’m going to work on being this kind of friend to my husband and kids.  The kind who loves you, gets you, and finds time to just be there for you, even if you are slightly crazy.  Everyone needs a friend like that. 

January 15, 2019

I was listening to the Book of Mormon this rainy morning while standing in front of the mirror fixing my hair. The familiar stories of Nephi and his family were floating around the bathroom—stories that I know by heart.  I love to search for any new nuggets of wisdom while listening to these well-known stories from the scriptures.  Certainly there are lessons that I haven’t previously noticed—things that will matter to me right here, right now.  Suddenly, I had the thought, “Why did Laman and Lemuel even go?”  Why did they go with their father?  They complained, bitterly, against him.  They dragged their feet.  They claimed to not even believe what he was telling them.  It seems like they were old enough to take care of themselves.  And we even know that Lehi left in such a rush that the family home, full of gold and silver and precious things, was left behind, untouched.  Why didn’t Laman and Lemuel stay?  Why didn’t they run away and run back to their home?  Perhaps there were safety issues with remaining at home, but still, why didn’t they go their own way?

The audio kept playing from my phone as I pondered these thoughts.  I started paying attention again just as I got to the part where Laman and Lemuel obey their father and head straight back to Jerusalem with Nephi and Sam.  They were charged with the task of obtaining the brass plates, which contained scripture as well as a record of their genealogy.  Laman was even the one who went in to talk to Laban, in an attempt to fulfill his father’s request.  Laban threatened Laman, sought to kill him, and Laman barely escaped with his life!  That story got me thinking.  I started making a list in my mind of all the hard things that Laman and Lemual actually did do.  If you take out the murmuring and rebellion, Laman and Lemuel’s life story reads really differently.  

Laman and Lemuel fled Jerusalem with their family, leaving all that they knew and loved behind.  Laman and Lemuel traveled in the wilderness, hunting for food and living in a tent.  Laman and Lemuel were nearly killed when they attempted to get the brass plates.  Laman and Lemuel fled for their lives while being robbed of all of their family’s riches.  They returned to the wilderness, and then came back to Jerusalem AGAIN to convince another family to join them in the wilderness.  They married and started families while in the wilderness.  They suffered along with everyone else when there was no food, no fire, and no comfort.  And YET, they kept on going.  They were understandably doubtful when their younger brother, Nephi, told them he was going to build a ship to cross the ocean.  But eventually (there is a lot more to this story!), they did repent, “did worship the Lord, and did go forth with [Nephi]; and did work timbers of curious workmanship.” (1 Nephi 18:1)  They helped Nephi finish the ship, and that must have been long, hard work! When the ship was ready, they saw that it was good.  And they were even humbled by the sight of it.  Then, they actually got on the ship, ready to CROSS THE OCEAN!! That took some guts.  

I just kept thinking about Laman and Lemuel.  We all know them as the murmuring, murderous older brothers who caused an insane amount of heartache and sorrow to Nephi and the rest of his family.  They kept threatening to quit. They kept arguing and complaining.  They kept trying to do it their own way.  But during the whole arduous journey to the promised land, they didn’t quit.  Somehow, they kept going.  They did all the hard things, but without the comfort and peace of the gospel.  They did all the hard things, and received none of the blessings into their hearts.  Nephi, on the other hand, said, “Nevertheless, I did look unto my God, and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.” (1 Nephi 18:16)  

Life can be so challenging.  We all have trials and heartache and sorrow to wade through.  The only difference is that some of us are wading through it while murmuring and complaining, and others are like Nephi, wading through it with the help of the Lord.  But the interesting point is that we all have to wade through it.  Sometimes we are doing all of the right things, all of the hard things, but our hearts are not in the right place. Laman and Lemuel aren’t remembered for all that they DID do, but they are remembered as the brothers who complained.  Which is sad, because they did a lot of the hard things—with the wrong attitude.  

I thought of myself.  I thought of the many times I want to quit.  When everyone is crying and fussing around me, and little boys are full-on fighting, and the house seems so chaotic, and everyone is demanding something from me, I think, “That’s it. I’m outta here!”  Of course, I haven’t quit.  So far.  But that’s the Laman and Lemuel in me.  They didn’t quit either.  But they complained and griped and had a terrible attitude.  I don't know if this will make sense to anyone else but me, but I think I can fall prey to doing the "right" thing with the "wrong" attitude.  And I want to remember Laman and Lemuel the next time I find my attitude lacking.  

I love Nephi.  So much of his story is about persevering in the face of daunting trials.  He proclaimed, “I will go and do…” and then he did.  We love and honor him for all that he did, because his heart was willing.  And he recognized the Lord’s hand in his life.  

We aren’t blessed for what we do, for what we go through.  We are blessed for the “way” we go through it.  And those blessings come in the form of peace during adversity, comfort during hardships, and joy during trials.  When we turn to Lord, we are blessed with strength beyond our own.  Oh, what a difference those blessings could have made for Laman and Lemuel.  

January 2, 2019

The second day of the year!  We started it off with a bang!  Emma tossed her cookies in the night.  I decided that I was feeling sick, too.  It was a good excuse to climb back into bed with my brand new Minky blanket after dropping Julia off at her early morning practice.  Greg went back to work today, but the kids don't start until tomorrow.  I eventually pulled myself out of my warm bed to face the day.  I've sort of been lacking ambition lately.  I tossed some cereal in the direction of my little ones, got myself put together, and headed to the high school.  Today was class-change day and Emma and Julia both needed adjustments to their schedules.  I waited in line with the other high schoolers, wishing that Emma felt good enough to join me.  But I finally got it done just in time to pick up Julia from practice.  She convinced me to stop for Einstein bagels on the way home (which had originally been our plan for the last day of the break, but then Emma made me think otherwise.  I didn't know Emma was texting Julia telling her to beg me to pick them up anyway!).  Apparently bagels did the trick because all of us started feeling much better after a bagel or two.

My dang back is super out of sorts.  And that's all I want to say about that.

It is also very cold outside for St. George.  The sun is shining, but it is cold!!

I really don't want Christmas break to be over.  It is so much easier to have my kids at home.  I'm going to be one sad lady in the morning.

I climbed into the bathtub last night, hoping to ease my back, and moaned a little to Greg, who was sitting on the bed with a crossword.  "I don't have any good talents or hobbies," I complained after perusing Facebook, the land of the amazingly talented people.  And of course, Greg quickly reassured me that, yes, I do have talents and hobbies.  I know I do.  I just have been feeling a little down because my talents aren't all that visible.  I don't excel in photography, art, home decorating, cooking, baking, physical exercise...I don't have some cool business or "side gig" that is going gang busters.  I don't have a job (thankfully), and I don't even have friends.  Boo hoo.  Boo hoo.  Well, that's about how I felt sitting in that warm tub.  I mostly just clean.  All day.  I am astounded that we can all kill ourselves cleaning for eight straight hours, and then wake up the next day and look around and there is still so much to do.  I've been thinking a lot about New Year's Resolutions, I guess.  When I close my eyes, I try to envision who I want to be: the woman who wakes up early to exercise, read her scriptures, and shower.  Then she bustles around cleaning and cooking and singing with joy.  But then I snuggle down in my covers and go back to sleep.  Sleeping in feels better.

It seems like we should all go back to school and work on New Year's Day.  It is hard to turn over a new leaf on a day when we can stay in our pajamas all day, eating treats, and relaxing!

December about did me in this time.  I've evaluated things so that hopefully I can make it better this year.  I think I have a pretty good idea about what made it so much more difficult for me: High School basketball!!  I never dreamed we would be biting our nails through the varsity games.  Julia starts varsity (as a freshman!!) and it has been one of the most exciting things Greg and I have ever had the privilege to enjoy.  We are having SO much fun!!  She is rocking it.  Exceeding all of our expectations!  But no matter how much I tell myself to remain calm, I just can't!  We have had a few overtime games, and even a double overtime game!  Julia is such a big part of the team.  I have left every game with my stomach in knots.  My emotions are soaring high a couple times each week.  After one intense overtime win, Greg and I could hardly sleep.  I still felt adrenaline coursing through my veins the next day!  And that was going on all through December.  Not to mention everything it takes to get Julia to and from practice and early-morning weight training, and to get her prepared and ready for each event.  I'm packing uniforms and snacks and getting her fed and into bed...it's stressful.
My other stressor has been Relief Society!  I was in charge of the Ward Christmas Devotional, which took a lot of work.  Then we've had family deaths and cancer and surgeries.  We've also had a lot of changes to get ready for the new year, and on one Sunday in December, our teacher called in sick right as I was walking into church.  I taught that lessons, and it went great.  But I think I've had a lot going on.  Then, you add in Christmas for a family of eight, all the food, all the cleaning, all the work, and I'm ready for a bit of break.  A mental break, that is, because I've taken a lot of baths and slept in a lot of days and stayed in my pajamas, and I'm still searching for my gumption.

Tomorrow feels like the day I go back to the grind.  It feels like the day I start running around again, just trying to keep it all together.  It is also the day Julia's team plays Cedar.  They are ranked number one in the State.  It feels like I will be super stressed all evening!  Deep breaths!!  How can my life be so perfect and fun and SO overwhelming and stressful at the same time?!?!

Who am I kidding?  I don't really have time to paint or learn photography even if I wanted to.  Besides, I've got a Minky blanket and a good book calling my name.  I can turn over a new leaf tomorrow.  Ha!

January 1, 2019

Good morning, 2019!

I think as you get older, the turning of the calendar from an old year to a new one gets more significant, more poignant, somehow.  It's a little less party and a lot more pondering.  And then when you've lost someone dear to you, it takes on a different feeling altogether.  I noticed a lot of people commenting on social media yesterday about the passage of time that takes us all farther down the road, and away from the time we had with those who are gone.  It's easy to wake up day after day and get lost in the grind.  New Year's Eve sort of wakes you up and forces you to acknowledge that time passes, kids grow up, people pass on, lives change, and I am getting older.

Last night, as my teenagers and a few of their friends ran out into the cold, with the noisemakers I had purchased a few days before, screaming and dancing around, I watched through the glass doors, with my robe pulled tightly around me.  Greg was already asleep, like usual, we joked.  It had been such a fun day.  We had cleaned for about eight hours straight!  The girls and I did makeovers together while the boys played.  We ate Texas Toast French toast dripping with butter and syrup and drank from the sparkling cider bottles I picked up from Harmon's.  I made my mom's homemade caramel, which is so dangerously delicious that I once ate the entire pan!  Greg sat concentrating on a super hard puzzle while we all laughed and talked and had a good evening.  Everybody went to bed way too late.  I dozed off while reading my book in bed, but eventually the fireworks outside--that seemed to burst for over two hours straight!--woke me back up.  I was just in time to stand by the glass doors and watch Emma, Julia, Miles and Austin, and a few of the girls' friends dance and scream outside to ring in the New Year.  Then it was hugs and kisses good night.

I stayed in bed this morning.  I was only half awake.  My back was aching too much to keep sleeping.  But I started thinking again about my dad.  He wasn't here for a single day of 2018.  That seems strange.  And sad.  I thought about my little family.  I keep saying we are currently enjoying family perfection.  My youngest is four, my oldest is seventeen.  Every one of my little chicks is safely tucked under my wings.  It's just us.  Nobody has left the coop.  Nobody new has invaded. Ha!  Everyone is old enough to have fun, and still young enough to have fun.  I am enjoying this so much. I can see the changes on the horizon, so I'm trying to keep my gaze away from that horizon.

My friend lost her dad on Christmas Day.  It has been so heartbreaking for their family.  I took Emma and went over for a visit on Sunday evening.  We hugged and cried.  My friend expressed what I've already learned--that once it happens to you, you suddenly feel so much more sympathy when it happens to someone else.  When you hear that someone "older" died, you don't realize how sad it is.  Her dad was 74.  I felt the familiar frustration well up inside me, my dad was only 65!!  But I could see how devastated she was, even when he was 74.  I said something like, It's always heartbreaking, until maybe someone hits their late 90s, and then it's easier to handle.  We both laughed a little at that.  She said she felt robbed of 20 years, I thought in my head that I felt robbed of 30 years!  We ended by talking about the way gratitude is the way to make it through.  Gratitude for a lifetime with a fantastic dad.  Gratitude for sweet memories.  Gratitude for those who are still in our lives.

Once we got back home, Emma wanted to show me a sweet picture she had found on the computer.  In 2010, my mom's mom died in her 90s...and I had to eat my words, because there on the screen was a picture of my heartbroken mom.  Apparently if you lose your parent in their 90s, it is still devastating.  But I couldn't look away from the way my dad was comforting her, and I very distinctly heard his voice saying, "I'm here for you. Don't cry."  It's a beautiful picture.

Now, onto 2019.  Another year.  365 fresh new blank pages in the story of our lives.  I'm not sure if this holiday feels exciting or not.  But it definitely feels like a day to take notice of.  It feels like a day to recommit to those we love.  To recommit to the things that matter most.  And I don't have to think for very long to know what those things are!  Happy New Year!  It's going to be another good one!