My Mother's Day

Streamers on my bedroom door welcomed me to breakfast as did the "MOM" Heather made out of streamers.  A yummy breakfast of fluffy scrambled eggs, hash browns (Kelly makes the best!) and bacon was super delicious, and my decorated chair was awesome (I felt like a queen on her throne).  Dinner was just as yummy and prepared by my hub and girls:  shrimp and mushroom fettucini and lobster tail with tossed salad, cheese bread and lemon-lime aide.  Dessert was scrumptious chocolate on chocolate cake decorated by Heather, and among my sweet cards was a Willow Tree statue titled, "Love of Learning."  While all of these fun things were being prepared throughout the day, I was able to get ready for church, read, play Words With Friends on my phone, and I even got in a nap.  My husband and girls did a perfect job of showing me their love on this special day.  xoxo

Last Soccer Game

Today was the last soccer game of the spring season.  Jenna played well, and it has been fun to watch her and friend, Ava, play together.  Jenna is signed up for the Fall season at the next level, U12.  We'll see what the future has in store for this soccer lover.

A Mother's Day Submission I Wrote

I am pleasantly surprised by my feelings and ability to write about Mother's Day.  Prior feelings I've had on Mother's Day have been forgotten and replaced with joy and gratitude.  I never liked Mother's Day because it seemed that our mom expected to be celebrated on that one day of the year when the rest of the days were not what we would consider ideal in the relationship department.  As I got older, worked through my issues, and then became a mother, it still sickened me to celebrate for celebration's sake.  I didn't want to be celebrated because I wondered if I would have the same legacy where my kids wouldn't think I deserved to be celebrated because I wasn't doing the job 24-7-365.  This most likely sounds horrible to anyone reading, but I struggled through this for a few years while the truth whispered to me.  I ended up hearing the truth;  I wasn't making the same mistakes my mom had made, I was giving my best every day, and my relationship with my babies and my husband was completely different.  As a result of changing my perception, I have gone from a queasy stomach on Mother's Day to a heart full of gratitude.  I still don't enjoy the focus and attention on this one day (I think we should be doing the best we can do every day), nor do I think I am perfect (far from it), but I understand the importance of stopping to remember and be grateful (I even have some gratitude for my own mom).  


The following is a short piece I submitted to our Relief Society Newsletter at church.  The prompts were memories of mom, grandma, etc., what I love about being a mom, or something my kids have done for me on Mother's Day.  My thoughts didn't go predictably with any of the prompts, but in the end, I wrote about how I feel about Mother's Day and being a mom.  It was well-received and included in the newsletter, and I wanted to put it here in the blog for journaling purposes.

When Mother's Day, 2008 was about a week a way, I realized that for the first time in my life I had no mother or mother-in-law to celebrate.  There were no gifts to buy, no cards to pick out and no special gifts to help the kids create for Grandma.  Although I felt the loss of my mothers that year, I knew I still had much to celebrate.  Mother's Day shifted to a day of reflection that year and has remained ever since.  I find peace and joy reflecting on my own mothers, my grandmothers, my aunts and the blessings they've been in my life, and most importantly, how deeply grateful I am to have the opportunity to be a mother to my children.  Being a mother has allowed me to heal, to love deeply, to teach, to nurture, to learn and to feel a Divine connection as the Spirit whispers and helps me raise each daughter in the unique way needed.  I do not take motherhood for granted.  Each night when I sing to my girls and tuck them in, and each morning when I look upon their sleepy faces, I am filled with a joy that is beyond description.  I need no presents or recognition when the second Sunday in May arrives--every single day is "Mother's Day" for me.  I will spend next Sunday reflecting, pondering deeply, and offering prayers gratitude to my Father in Heaven for the privilege of both having had great mothers and for being one myself.

Friday Highlights

 Jenna called home from her classroom today...She got an A+ on her math test and called to tell me.  It's a privilege for those who score an A+.  I have issues with this practice, but I was excited for her and congratulated her success.  Jenna and Sarah got together after school to hang out for hours and hours.  It's their favorite thing to do together, and they are a hoot.

After a grueling track practice, Heather was off to the skate rink to celebrate her bestie's 13th birthday.  The girls had so much fun together.  They all wore their crazy socks, Heather let me braid her hair (gasp, sputter, gasp!) for her night out, and she even found a cool motorcycle to catch her edgy vibe on.  It's so great to watch these girls having fun together, and I'm so thankful both my girls have such good friends! 

Random Photos

Just a few random photos to journal...

Wed. 5/9

 It's not everyday we get to see a tow truck bring our car to our driveway.  

Don't care to see this again.

 Trader Joe's cookies and milk make a yummy midnight snack.

Thurs. 5/10

 Jenna is off with a friend for the afternoon so Heather and I hit Islands for lunch and then Barnes & Nobel to pick up a book with our coupon.  Heather was a happy girl and we had some great bonding time.  Telling statement from the girl..."It's been a really long time since we've done this, mom; just you and me."  We'll probably do it more often from now on.

Found Winston lying about this afternoon.  Good thing Judy told us he often sleeps this way, otherwise we'd be panicking!  Silly pooch.

And the rest of my day went like this...

Here is my van being towed from the produce stand by our house late this afternoon.  I dropped Jenna at Activity Days and decided to grab some veggies for dinner instead of going home not realizing anything could go wrong.  We put a new battery in the car after it wouldn't start on Monday, and all seemed well until today.  The car refuses to start.  Here is the gratitude list:

•  I was in walking distance to my house and able to carry purchased and perishable produce home.
•  Kelly was close to home and able to drive over to help figure things out.
•  We have have a spare vehicle so I don't have to pay for a rental car.
•  I have AAA so the tow was free.
•  No one had to be anywhere specific during this time period.
•  The girls were at home getting along great.
•  Kelly will most likely be able to fix it (the 10yr./100k warranty ended 3.5 weeks ago).

Tender mercies.  They are real and happen frequently in my life.

p.s.  I updated my last post for clarity (the term "hardcore" might have been confusing).  If you'd like to re-read, click on the link below.

Appreciating Work and Effort

Work, progress, teaching...these concepts have been on my mind a lot lately as I ponder where I am as a mother and teacher in my home.  After a great conversation with a friend yesterday where we discussed how to teach our kids to work, I read Shannon Hale's blog post about being hardcore (to me this means working hard over time to achieve something).  So much of what she shares is what I needed to hear and be reminded of.  I realize that I am the best example for my kids, and although that is probably a no-brainer to most, it doesn't come easily for me. They don't see me do a lot of long-term, hard work.  I am not consistent, yet I want great things.  I know in my head that working hard over time produces great results; I guess I'm a little lazy. I've got to start turning my knowledge into action.  Shannon tells her story  better than I can recap, so I've included the text here.  You can see it directly on her blog through this link Shannon Hale.

Are you hardcore?

In college I went on a study abroad to Mexico. My two American housemates found a local gym and bought a temporary membership because their boyfriends told them, "You'd better not come back fat." I didn't have a boyfriend, but I was bored, so I joined them. It was there that I first discovered running.


There was a small indoor track. I thought I'd try out a few laps, convinced I wasn't capable of anything more. But after a week, I realized I had more in me, so I went a few minutes more. And more. Suddenly I was running for forty-five minutes straight, amazed by the untested prowess of my body. I'd always been thin (scrawny) and fragile (lazy), so imagine my surprise when I flew around that track for an hour straight, glistening and crowing. I was a runner!


When I returned home to Salt Lake City, as soon as I'd unpacked (strewn my belongings) and had a good night's sleep, I hopped on a treadmill for an invigorating jog--as we runners will do. After five minutes I began to wheeze. After ten minutes I collapsed. Was I ill? Perhaps dying of consumption? I tried the jogging thing a few more times before I realized that while I flew at sea level, I flailed at 4200 feet. Did I push through it and get stronger? No, I quit. It turned out, I was a gravy runner. I was no where near hardcore.


I've discovered that I can be hardcore as a writer. I write when the words are flowing. I write when they're not. I write when the story delights me and I can't wait to see what happens next. I write when the story is murky and sticky and complicated. I write when I'm energized and feeling great. I write when I'm sick, pregnant, have newborns, am grumpy, sad, confused, angry, and so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm hardcore, baby.


I had the chance to visit Bolivia and Peru once. We went to a town on the shores of Lake Titicaca, elevation 12,500 ft. At that height, simply walking made us wheeze for oxygen. Our guide told us that their soccer team is unbeatable. Despite pulling players from a much smaller pool of talent, they trounce Lima regularly. They live and train in one of the world's harshest environments, while the sea level Lima players are gasping and stumbling halfway through the game. When the team from Titicaca goes down to play in oxygen-rich Lima, their players can run for hours and never break a sweat. Because they work hard when playing is hard work, they fly when it's not. They are formidable. They are hardcore.


I suppose such a metaphor could relate to most anything--microbiology, hot air ballooning, ballet--but I wouldn't know. I basically do two things in my life. I'm a writer and I'm a mother. And those are two things I'm pretty good at because I don't allow myself to quit. It's not possible to quit. Even when my lungs are burning and my legs ache and a stitch like a knife stabs into my ribs. I keep going because I have to. And I have faith that any moment now, this hill is going to straighten out, I'm going to get a second wind, those endorphins will kick in, and the view will be amazing.