I have been married for twelve years and I can honestly say that love my husband more today than I did the day we were married. This is, in part, because he is a really nice, easy-to-love guy, who also happens to really love me. But is also because I am not afraid (anymore) to be honest about what I'm thinking and feeling and what I want.
Ryan is more practical than I-- which is why we have a home and two vehicles and plenty of food in the cupboards. But because he is so practical, he doesn't love the idea of buying something that is supposed to die and wither and smell funny in a week. So buying flowers does not come naturally to him. I, on the other hand, regularly buy flowers for our home. I love it if they are planted in pots, so they will live longer, but if I can't buy those, I will often buy cut flowers and put them all over our home. They brighten our home and I feel happy when I see them. So this year, since we were celebrating our dozen years, it just made sense to get a dozen roses. And so I bluntly and unabashedly asked Ryan for them. I decided it was worth it to me to not be surprised and ask him for exactly what I wanted.
Before I got married, I thought that if someone really loved me, they would be able to read my mind and fill my every need. Now I know that if I really love someone, and want our relationship to be happy I need to tell him what I want-- and be specific--and that in all reality most of my needs I can fill myself. We do kind things for each other every day. And we really do love each other, but we are two complete human beings, and we don't rely on each other (most days) for validation, or even for love. That sounds so unromantic as I type this, but I already have love. I love myself and I know God loves me too. I know that I'm good and I'm okay. And Ryan's okay too. He's a happy guy. He was happy before we got married, and so was I. That's why we're happy as a married couple.
So this year we went together to buy me a temple bag, and a lunch container that I've really been wanting. I bought Ryan a nerf gun that got some great reviews. And we went to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. And next year we will go to Greece, because he promised! And on the morning of our anniversary, after he went around the neighborhood and collected bags of stuff to be donated to the DI and the Scouting for Food programs for our ward, Ryan stopped at the local florist shop and bought me a dozen beautiful long-stemmed red roses and brought them home in a beautiful vase and I was absolutely delighted, and may have cried just a little when I read his card, written for "the love of his life". How lucky are we to have that?!
I remember reading Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet years ago, when I was in college, and reading the lines he wrote about marriage-- about there being, "spaces in your togetherness", just as there in "space between pillars". We have space to be alone, and space to be together, and space to be ourselves. Great advice from Mr. Gibran. I'm excited to see what else we'll learn in the next twelve years!
Saturday, March 25, 2017
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Africa
Today I woke up and listened to a conference talk from April of last year. I had listened twice to all of the talks from the October conference, and thought I'd take a gander at them and pick one to hear a third time. When nothing stood out to me, I went back to the April 2016 conference, and almost immediately clicked on the talk entitled, "I am a Child of God" by a member of the presidency of the seventy whose name escapes me at the moment. It is an amazing talk. Great speaker, and great message. He speaks at the end about being in a huge conference in Liberia, right after the Ebola outbreak ended and they finally let westerners back into the country. There were 4300 people at this conference and most of them had walked long distances to be there. It was a hot and humid day, and they arrived hours early most of them, in anticipation of the event. They wanted to be there to hear an apostle of the Lord. During the conference when any speaker read a scripture, they all recited the scripture aloud, from memory. Then when Elder Bednar, the anticipated speaker got up to speak last, the mood became even more, "electric".
He spoke and they were silently listening, except when they quoted a scripture with him. And then he asked them, "Do you know the hymn 'How Firm a Foundation'?
4300 voices said, "Yes!"
"Do you know verses 1, 2, 3, and 7?"
"Yes!"
They began to sing-- powerfully and beautifully and with all their hearts. Verse seven is especially powerful.
"That soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I cannot desert to his foes.
That soul, though all hell has endeavored to break,
I'll never, no never,
I'll never, no never,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake."
He concludes by saying that in terms of material goods, these saints had very little, but spiritually they seemed to have it all. I left by bed yesterday morning (I'd been listening in bed), deciding to try and be more like an African mother. The speaker mentioned the way that we get distracted by material things. I wore my African bracelet and felt determined to not be distracted.
And I don't even remember what distracted me first, but I had forgotten my desires to be like an African mother by the time James was dropped off at home. I did not remember until this morning when Ryan told me about his African experience yesterday...
He spoke and they were silently listening, except when they quoted a scripture with him. And then he asked them, "Do you know the hymn 'How Firm a Foundation'?
4300 voices said, "Yes!"
"Do you know verses 1, 2, 3, and 7?"
"Yes!"
They began to sing-- powerfully and beautifully and with all their hearts. Verse seven is especially powerful.
"That soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I cannot desert to his foes.
That soul, though all hell has endeavored to break,
I'll never, no never,
I'll never, no never,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake."
He concludes by saying that in terms of material goods, these saints had very little, but spiritually they seemed to have it all. I left by bed yesterday morning (I'd been listening in bed), deciding to try and be more like an African mother. The speaker mentioned the way that we get distracted by material things. I wore my African bracelet and felt determined to not be distracted.
And I don't even remember what distracted me first, but I had forgotten my desires to be like an African mother by the time James was dropped off at home. I did not remember until this morning when Ryan told me about his African experience yesterday...
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Interview?!!!!!
I have been handed every single job I've ever had. I've never had to apply for a job. That is unusual, I think. My first job was handed to me when I was fourteen and my neighbors asked me and my friend Kari, their niece, to work in their needlepoint shop downtown. I worked there for ten years. And then after graduating from college, and going on a mission, I student taught at Ogden High, and was asked to replace a teacher the next year. There was an interview, and I filled out paper work, but I was handed the job without applying. I taught for a student-exchange program for one summer--asked to work for the program by an old friend from my ward growing up. It was a few months and no interview. And that was the last "job" I've been handed, other than a few baby-sitting gigs, and of course helping Grammy every morning. No interview or application process there.
But Monday morning at 9:30, I am going to have a "chat--not really an interview" with the director of Greenwood--my boys' school. The director, Jessie Kidd, asked me at the end of last year if I had any interest in working part time as a reading instructor/tutor, etc. And when she found out I used to teach high school English, she asked me to think about teaching for them when they get their 8th grade program set-- 2018-19. I called yesterday and spoke briefly with one of the amazing secretaries, asking her to just put my name on a list of people they might call if they had need of a helper next year. She was very excited and kind and asked if I would do an interview. Or a "chat--not really an interview".
That's how it all happened. So I sort of have my first interview, sort of. I didn't apply for anything, but I'm excited. I think this is a good move for me. If I can work part time next year while the boys are all in school full time--- at their school, and make a little extra money, and save up for trips and updates and babies-- and improve my teaching/grown-up skills, then why not?
I wonder what I should wear......My only pantsuit is six sizes too small.
The Evolution of Insecurity
I wonder why it is that we want to be liked so much. I suppose back in the caveman days we sought to form alliances, and be liked by others so we could survive-- have other people who would help us hunt and fish and not die. If we were perceived as weird, or deviant and wore feathers in our ears or decided to become a vegetarian or something, then we might be shunned, and we would most likely die alone. And if our main goal in life after survival was to reproduce, then having at least one person like us would have been pretty critical.
But why today do we still care so much about what other people think of us? Why do we seek approval from our peers so often? How does it still make sense? Or is this one of those things-- like our love of carbs and sitting that used to help us survive and is now slowly killing us?
Ryan has to worry about whether or not his co-workers and managers and directors "like" him, and that he is perceived as competent enough to continue working and making a living. That makes sense. When I was teaching, I wanted to be liked by the students and my fellow teachers. I sought approval, because I needed their approval to keep my job. That makes sense too. I certainly want to get along with my neighbors, so that we can help each other in times of crisis-- have the kind of relationship that makes it easy to borrow a cup of sugar, or call when there's a strange man wandering the neighborhood asking for money. That makes sense.
And my way of living in the world is all defined by relationships. My relationships with my family and friends bring joy and light to my life every single day. Knowing how others are feeling is an important part of that. If Peter is sad, and won't talk about it, I work hard to find a way for him to start talking about it and then try and let him know how much I love him. If Ryan is frustrated I need to know so I can help him work it out and he can be his best for work and church and such. Relationships and loving people is the way to joy!!!!!
But I worry way too much about what my Facebook friends think of my posts. I worry too much about what my neighbors and ward members think of how we're dressed on Sunday, and how much we helped at the ward clean-up. And I worry too much about what everyone, including my family and loved ones think about my life and my ambitions and my success (or lack thereof).
There is a big difference between loving and serving others and seeking the approval of others. I love my kids, and I know they love me, and they like me too, but I'm going to do all I can to help them succeed, and be their best selves because I love them, not because I want them to like me and tell everyone what a great mom I am.
Yesterday I accidentally published an article on my Facebook page about the Women's March against Trump. It was written by an LDS woman from Provo who had participated in the march, and was uneasy about what a former Young Women's General President had said about those women marching. She described them as "unladylike" and lacking in virtue. I wanted to save the article to my timeline in order to read it later and think about it. But I shared it with "friends" not "only me". And two of my friends who are relatively liberal loved it. One of them even wrote me a really nice message via messenger to thank me for sharing the article. I appreciated her words, but I was really upset when I actually read the article-- realizing exactly what it said, and knowing that most of my friends would not like an article that spoke, even a bit negatively, about Sister Dalton.
I think she didn't fully understand the situation. I think that a lot of the women who marched probably agreed with her on most things 100%. I think that only a small percentage of the women used rude or crude words. And I think the term "ladylike" has little meaning these days. Should marching ladies behave differently from marching gentlemen? Should we not all act with virtue and dignity and honor--men and women alike? Sister Dalton is also the Young Women's leader who said that leggings and short skirts were not okay to wear to church. Today that is almost all that our young women in our ward wear. So maybe times have changed a bit. Also, she is not a general auxiliary leader anymore! She is not an apostle or a prophet. She is a really neat lady who has done really neat things, but she certainly does not speak for the church or for God!
So, I agreed with the sister from Provo who wrote the article. But I would not have shared it on purpose. What does that say about me? I think it says that I care too much about what people think. I love people and I don't want to hurt them, but I need to stop worrying about whether or not everyone in the world likes me. They won't. And they shouldn't. I don't think Trump or Putin would like me. I hope not. And the Savior was hated by many. The Pharisees and Saduccees hated him so much they killed him! So if I am trying to be like Jesus Christ, some will not like me and even hate me. Also, I realize that I need to be myself, not the other moms (see posts from yesterday), and not everyone sees the world the way I do. They will disagree with me. And that's okay too. Conflict does not mean the end of a world or a relationship.
Three things I'm taking from this experience:
1. I should read any article I post on Facebook all the way through.
2. I'm going to stop caring what others think about me, and just care about them. Loving people is not the same as winning any sort of popularity contest.
3. At the end of the day/life, what I think about myself, and what my Heavenly Father and my Savior think of me will matter, and I like myself and am going to be a lot more kind to Charity.
I can remember so many times in elementary school, and middle school, and high school feeling so aware of the fact that I was not one of the cool kids. I was not popular--at least not after 5th grade. But when I did the things that I liked, and was more true to myself I was happy and had friends that liked similar things, and I felt that I could reach out to other people because I was okay. That's when school was fun-- doing Literary Harvest, and National Honors Society, and Band. I was so proud to be one of nine members of the Young Democrats at Ogden High. Still am.
Love of self comes first, when we feel God's love for us. And that means we can be true to that self. We don't have to bend with every wind. We don't have to change and worry. We can know that we are okay and we can love people truly, sincerely and fully.
That's what I'm doing now. I'm not going to go out of my way to offend people. And I think generally I will avoid posting anything too controversial. But I am happy and grateful to be me.
But why today do we still care so much about what other people think of us? Why do we seek approval from our peers so often? How does it still make sense? Or is this one of those things-- like our love of carbs and sitting that used to help us survive and is now slowly killing us?
Ryan has to worry about whether or not his co-workers and managers and directors "like" him, and that he is perceived as competent enough to continue working and making a living. That makes sense. When I was teaching, I wanted to be liked by the students and my fellow teachers. I sought approval, because I needed their approval to keep my job. That makes sense too. I certainly want to get along with my neighbors, so that we can help each other in times of crisis-- have the kind of relationship that makes it easy to borrow a cup of sugar, or call when there's a strange man wandering the neighborhood asking for money. That makes sense.
And my way of living in the world is all defined by relationships. My relationships with my family and friends bring joy and light to my life every single day. Knowing how others are feeling is an important part of that. If Peter is sad, and won't talk about it, I work hard to find a way for him to start talking about it and then try and let him know how much I love him. If Ryan is frustrated I need to know so I can help him work it out and he can be his best for work and church and such. Relationships and loving people is the way to joy!!!!!
But I worry way too much about what my Facebook friends think of my posts. I worry too much about what my neighbors and ward members think of how we're dressed on Sunday, and how much we helped at the ward clean-up. And I worry too much about what everyone, including my family and loved ones think about my life and my ambitions and my success (or lack thereof).
There is a big difference between loving and serving others and seeking the approval of others. I love my kids, and I know they love me, and they like me too, but I'm going to do all I can to help them succeed, and be their best selves because I love them, not because I want them to like me and tell everyone what a great mom I am.
Yesterday I accidentally published an article on my Facebook page about the Women's March against Trump. It was written by an LDS woman from Provo who had participated in the march, and was uneasy about what a former Young Women's General President had said about those women marching. She described them as "unladylike" and lacking in virtue. I wanted to save the article to my timeline in order to read it later and think about it. But I shared it with "friends" not "only me". And two of my friends who are relatively liberal loved it. One of them even wrote me a really nice message via messenger to thank me for sharing the article. I appreciated her words, but I was really upset when I actually read the article-- realizing exactly what it said, and knowing that most of my friends would not like an article that spoke, even a bit negatively, about Sister Dalton.
I think she didn't fully understand the situation. I think that a lot of the women who marched probably agreed with her on most things 100%. I think that only a small percentage of the women used rude or crude words. And I think the term "ladylike" has little meaning these days. Should marching ladies behave differently from marching gentlemen? Should we not all act with virtue and dignity and honor--men and women alike? Sister Dalton is also the Young Women's leader who said that leggings and short skirts were not okay to wear to church. Today that is almost all that our young women in our ward wear. So maybe times have changed a bit. Also, she is not a general auxiliary leader anymore! She is not an apostle or a prophet. She is a really neat lady who has done really neat things, but she certainly does not speak for the church or for God!
So, I agreed with the sister from Provo who wrote the article. But I would not have shared it on purpose. What does that say about me? I think it says that I care too much about what people think. I love people and I don't want to hurt them, but I need to stop worrying about whether or not everyone in the world likes me. They won't. And they shouldn't. I don't think Trump or Putin would like me. I hope not. And the Savior was hated by many. The Pharisees and Saduccees hated him so much they killed him! So if I am trying to be like Jesus Christ, some will not like me and even hate me. Also, I realize that I need to be myself, not the other moms (see posts from yesterday), and not everyone sees the world the way I do. They will disagree with me. And that's okay too. Conflict does not mean the end of a world or a relationship.
Three things I'm taking from this experience:
1. I should read any article I post on Facebook all the way through.
2. I'm going to stop caring what others think about me, and just care about them. Loving people is not the same as winning any sort of popularity contest.
3. At the end of the day/life, what I think about myself, and what my Heavenly Father and my Savior think of me will matter, and I like myself and am going to be a lot more kind to Charity.
I can remember so many times in elementary school, and middle school, and high school feeling so aware of the fact that I was not one of the cool kids. I was not popular--at least not after 5th grade. But when I did the things that I liked, and was more true to myself I was happy and had friends that liked similar things, and I felt that I could reach out to other people because I was okay. That's when school was fun-- doing Literary Harvest, and National Honors Society, and Band. I was so proud to be one of nine members of the Young Democrats at Ogden High. Still am.
Love of self comes first, when we feel God's love for us. And that means we can be true to that self. We don't have to bend with every wind. We don't have to change and worry. We can know that we are okay and we can love people truly, sincerely and fully.
That's what I'm doing now. I'm not going to go out of my way to offend people. And I think generally I will avoid posting anything too controversial. But I am happy and grateful to be me.
Friday, March 3, 2017
Complaining is something I will probably do again, but no more competing or comparing!
No more! That's it! I'm done! A new month began two days ago, and I've already complained a lot, after resolving not to. I think I may at some point learn how not to complain, and I certainly would like to kick that habit, but for right now I'm going to focus on cutting out the other two bad "c" words: competing and comparing. I do it all the time! More than I drink diet coke!
Yesterday I went to a long doctor's visit. The doctor is very kind, and works in the same office as my doctor sister. They are friends, and they are both kind and brilliant doctors. I have, however, avoided my doctor for years, because I wanted to be at a healthy weight before I saw her again. I didn't want to go through the horrible stress and embarrassment of being weighed in the hallway, in front of the nurses station, and find that I weighed just as much or more than I did a year and a half ago. But I needed to go.
I lost the feeling in my face on Monday-- well, half of my face. The left half. It was really scary and I went to the ER with my mom and Ryan hurried home early, and it probably cost us about $1000 and we still don't know for sure what the heck was going on. But we did find out I wasn't having a stroke. And I did make it back to the doctor's as a result. It should not take something so scary for me to finally swallow my pride and do something I should have done long ago. But I compare myself to everyone. My sister probably weighs at least 120 pounds less than I do. That is not a happy thing to think about, for either of us. Most of my friends probably weight 50-70 pounds less than I do, while being pregnant! Also not a happy thought. And while they live at their ideal weights and grow beautiful healthy babies, they also write and publish poetry, teach college classes, create whole Dr. Seuss-themed dinners, and do their hair.
This is the kind of comparing I do-- or at least I did-- daily. And it made me miserable! I am not my friends. I am me. I have so many good things going for me and I have so many talents. I have three beautiful healthy and happy boys. I have a husband who loves me and is willing to work hard and commute long distances because he wants me to be happy. I have family and friends close by who love and care for me. I cannot and should not try and be like Molly, or Sunni, or Emily, Amber, or Gina, or any of the other amazing moms out there who are comparing themselves all the time to me! Enough is enough!
If the secret to joy is love, then that means loving myself. Loving myself means I don't try and become someone else, or do things to make myself feel bad. I will be inspired by these moms and others, but I will be me, and I will stop comparing. I already made a pact with Molly that we will no longer compare ourselves to each other. It feels really good.
Plus if I'm always feeling bad about myself, I end up giving up and don't even try to do the things I want to and know I should because "I'm never going to be as good as Madame Secretary (or whoever else I'm comparing myself to at the moment)!" I end up not doing a lot of the things I really want to do and would do if I wasn't wasting time and energy feeling bad.
I want the boys to take piano lessons. I want to publish a children's book. I want to adopt or have a job by the end of this year. I want to lose weight and hike mountains and see the world. I want to help my boys with their problems. I can and will do these things with love and some energy, because I'm not going to devote any more time to the bad c's! I want to do these things not to be better than the other moms, but because I really want to do these things. I know they will bring me and my family JOY!
Also, I realized two things in the shower last night. I would hate it if William decided he wanted to be exactly like his older brother. I would hate it if Peter decided he wanted to be like James. And although James loves and idolizes his older brothers right now, I would hate it if he lost his own personality and amazingly joyful outlook on life. My Father in Heaven must be sad when I forget who I am, and try and be like another one of His daughters. He has blessed me with my own unique set of talents, abilities, strengths, weaknesses and experiences. If I am not me, who will be!
Also, I was reminded of the Savior's words to His disciples when they were doing the comparing thing thousands of years ago. They were kind of quarreling about who would be "the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven". That's where the whole, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." comes from. He taught them plainly that "He who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, let Him be thy servant." And "He who shall exhalt himself shall be abased, but he who shall abase himself shall be exhalted."
My value as a human being is not based on anything I do. It is based on being a human-- a child of God. And my value doesn't change. I am "less than the dust of the earth". But I am also of infinite worth. I want to do these good things to find joy. I want to spread that joy and learn how to love and add to God's joy. He loves me infinitely in spite of all my imperfections. He will not love me more when I overcome them, but He will rejoice with me when I do. He will rejoice when I become closer to my true and best self. Just as I do and will do with my own amazing and unique and imperfect boys.
It feels good to write this down. I hope I can keep writing daily, but if I don't, I'm not going to beat myself up. Just keep trying, right? And now I'm going to play Mario with James and make some mac and cheese.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Do you know what that smell is?
I have a great sense of smell. It comes from being a mom. It is a blessing and a curse. The other day James asked me to smell his hands. He was being so sweet and cuddly, but I was hesitant. Usually when the boys ask me to smell their hands it's not a good thing. But I did, and couldn't smell anything.
"Do you know what that smell is, Mom?" He asked me with a mischievous James grin.
"Love!! It smells like love!"
Awwwwwww! Love me some James love smell!
"Do you know what that smell is, Mom?" He asked me with a mischievous James grin.
"Love!! It smells like love!"
Awwwwwww! Love me some James love smell!
Marching on to Victory-- or at least one day doing everything on my goal list!
The past three weeks have been some of the busiest in my recent history. There was the aforementioned science fair on Valentine's Day-- which went remarkably well, and was, by all charter school measures, a success, but was exhausting! I learned so much and I would love to do it again, which really says something, right? But I would do some things differently, and I would do more of the prep work in the weeks before the science fair, so that on Valentine's Night (and I wouldn't do it on Valentine's) I would not be up until 1 or 2 filling out certificates and ribbons with my sweet husband.
After the science fair everything felt relatively easy for a day. Thursday was great. I stayed in my sweats all day. I got take-out for every meal. I watched Ninjago with James. I rested. Then Friday was back to crazy-town. I knew my sister in law and her four high-energy, darling kiddos were coming that night, and I had a much anticipated date night at Taggart Grill with my aforementioned sweet husband. I worked all day to get the laundry done so we could have some clean blankets and sleeping bags and towels for our guests and ourselves. And maybe some clean underwear too. It took hours and hours. And it was expensive. We're talking $120. I took the laundry to the laundromat so we could do it faster. And it was faster than waiting for each of 20 loads to wash at home. But it was not cheap. The boys and Ryan helped me and cleaned the house and then with great relief we left Ogden and drove to Salt Lake City to drop off the boys at Grampy's house.
They were thrilled. We were thrilled. Grampy was generous and welcoming, as always. Ryan and I traveled through the snowy canyon to dinner with friends and had a lovely evening. We picked up the boys, drove home and then the crazy began. The problem was not the kids, nor my sister-in-law. The problem was simply that she needed to do so many things while she was here: cut hair, visit family, use gift cards, buy a new car. It was hard for her to do that with her kids, so we watched them, and that got long and hard. We watched them for 13 hours one day, and just about the same another day. If we had gone about our lives as usual (which I did on Tuesday and it was just fine) we would not have felt exhausted and frustrated. But we wanted to help, and she used the help she could get.
In between those two 13 hour baby-sitting days, Ryan was called and sustained and set-apart to be a member of the bishopric. Another answer for our family to my question, "What's next?" The bishop is wonderful and I love their family so much. They are down-to-earth and funny and kind. They genuinely care about others. Their girls have babysat our boys for years. The wife is the funniest lady in the ward, but really strong and kind too. The bishop is the kind of man you could trust with your life after knowing him for ten minutes. Great guy. I am glad that Ryan is having the chance to work with him. Right now, in fact. They are out on visits. It's pretty fabulous. And Ryan is amazing and good and will be such a good first counselor. The other counselor is great too-- his wife is the other Young Women's counselor that I work with and so we have lots of chances to get to be good friends. She is kind and smart and works in salt lake and they don't have any kids yet. He is an attorney in town and very kind and rather soft spoken. They love to travel. Cool people and kind.
So that's all good, and I have had some great experiences already with Ryan's new calling. I have been given a blessing to help me understand things and have strength and comfort. The days are more busy, but very good. We are at a good point in our lives for this calling, and I am grateful for it.
But in the midst of house guests and hours of babysitting we had his calling and setting apart and the whole family up to our house for a roast dinner. And my sister in law sat next to Ryan in the chapel while we were waiting for him to get set apart. I was busy getting her kids to the right primary classes. I was busy getting my kids in to the chapel so we could listen and watch their father get made a high priest. And I didn't get to sit by my husband. And we were two minutes late getting into the chapel. Because I was taking care of her kids. I was so frustrated I could have spit. And I vowed it wouldn't happen again. I would make sure I was there next to him. And after talking to Ryan he (who was totally overwhelmed that morning, and didn't really know what was going on) decided that he would be sure I was always next to him too!
It was hard, and they stayed an extra day and a half. But I love them. And they went home eventually. And life went on. And Ryan and I are growing and learning. And last week I finished up science club. We had the pinewood derby. We had a lot going on again--good stuff.
And now it is March. I love a new month. And for one day this month I want to try and do all the "dailies" I planned to do this year, including meditation and practicing an instrument and exercising. I want to read to my boys. I want to do one act of kindness and do it with a kind heart. I want to stop complaining and start being more genuine. I want to clarify with good communication. I can do this. I love my family. I love my life. I want to be healthy and to rejoice. I can do it, and I love spring!
After the science fair everything felt relatively easy for a day. Thursday was great. I stayed in my sweats all day. I got take-out for every meal. I watched Ninjago with James. I rested. Then Friday was back to crazy-town. I knew my sister in law and her four high-energy, darling kiddos were coming that night, and I had a much anticipated date night at Taggart Grill with my aforementioned sweet husband. I worked all day to get the laundry done so we could have some clean blankets and sleeping bags and towels for our guests and ourselves. And maybe some clean underwear too. It took hours and hours. And it was expensive. We're talking $120. I took the laundry to the laundromat so we could do it faster. And it was faster than waiting for each of 20 loads to wash at home. But it was not cheap. The boys and Ryan helped me and cleaned the house and then with great relief we left Ogden and drove to Salt Lake City to drop off the boys at Grampy's house.
They were thrilled. We were thrilled. Grampy was generous and welcoming, as always. Ryan and I traveled through the snowy canyon to dinner with friends and had a lovely evening. We picked up the boys, drove home and then the crazy began. The problem was not the kids, nor my sister-in-law. The problem was simply that she needed to do so many things while she was here: cut hair, visit family, use gift cards, buy a new car. It was hard for her to do that with her kids, so we watched them, and that got long and hard. We watched them for 13 hours one day, and just about the same another day. If we had gone about our lives as usual (which I did on Tuesday and it was just fine) we would not have felt exhausted and frustrated. But we wanted to help, and she used the help she could get.
In between those two 13 hour baby-sitting days, Ryan was called and sustained and set-apart to be a member of the bishopric. Another answer for our family to my question, "What's next?" The bishop is wonderful and I love their family so much. They are down-to-earth and funny and kind. They genuinely care about others. Their girls have babysat our boys for years. The wife is the funniest lady in the ward, but really strong and kind too. The bishop is the kind of man you could trust with your life after knowing him for ten minutes. Great guy. I am glad that Ryan is having the chance to work with him. Right now, in fact. They are out on visits. It's pretty fabulous. And Ryan is amazing and good and will be such a good first counselor. The other counselor is great too-- his wife is the other Young Women's counselor that I work with and so we have lots of chances to get to be good friends. She is kind and smart and works in salt lake and they don't have any kids yet. He is an attorney in town and very kind and rather soft spoken. They love to travel. Cool people and kind.
So that's all good, and I have had some great experiences already with Ryan's new calling. I have been given a blessing to help me understand things and have strength and comfort. The days are more busy, but very good. We are at a good point in our lives for this calling, and I am grateful for it.
But in the midst of house guests and hours of babysitting we had his calling and setting apart and the whole family up to our house for a roast dinner. And my sister in law sat next to Ryan in the chapel while we were waiting for him to get set apart. I was busy getting her kids to the right primary classes. I was busy getting my kids in to the chapel so we could listen and watch their father get made a high priest. And I didn't get to sit by my husband. And we were two minutes late getting into the chapel. Because I was taking care of her kids. I was so frustrated I could have spit. And I vowed it wouldn't happen again. I would make sure I was there next to him. And after talking to Ryan he (who was totally overwhelmed that morning, and didn't really know what was going on) decided that he would be sure I was always next to him too!
It was hard, and they stayed an extra day and a half. But I love them. And they went home eventually. And life went on. And Ryan and I are growing and learning. And last week I finished up science club. We had the pinewood derby. We had a lot going on again--good stuff.
And now it is March. I love a new month. And for one day this month I want to try and do all the "dailies" I planned to do this year, including meditation and practicing an instrument and exercising. I want to read to my boys. I want to do one act of kindness and do it with a kind heart. I want to stop complaining and start being more genuine. I want to clarify with good communication. I can do this. I love my family. I love my life. I want to be healthy and to rejoice. I can do it, and I love spring!
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