When Skies are Grey

Golden Sun, Setting Through a Snow Storm

On Sunday evening, Bryson, the kids and I got in the car to drive to my in-laws' home for a family dinner. It had been snowing and the skies were clouded over, obscuring the mountains, even. When we rounded the bend, however, we were treated to a magnificent sight. Through the snow storm the golden sun was setting, creating a gilded haze that seemed to embrace the entire valley below.

Had we not changed our direction, we would have completely missed this glorious display of natural beauty.

Fast forward to this morning.

Short version of the story: It did not go well.

Frazzled and stressed out, I felt like a complete failure as I lost my temper with some of my kids who apparently forgot to put their ears on when they got out of bed. Then-- because I like to walk on the wild side-- I made a grocery run with the twins and baby after dropping the older two off at school. Needless to say, by the time I was strapping them back in the car to head homeward I was in need of a time out myself. Silently, I pleaded for a little more patience. A little more grace.

In the meantime, Dani was not pleased with the way I was buckling her in and started howling at me relentlessly.

I sighed and looked at her.

YOU....
I began sternly. I wasn't sure where I was going with this.

And then I paused and took a deep breath.

...are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

I was singing? Where did this come from?

You make me happy when skies are grey.

And then Logan joined in with me with his sweet little two-year-old warble.

You'll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.

Dani stopped screaming, and retreated into simply giving me the stink eye. Logan grinned at me from ear to ear. I just shook my head and chuckled to myself, my mood completely changed.

When you're a parent, there are lots of stormy days to navigate through. Sometimes it seems so bleak and clouded over that you might not even be quite sure what lies ahead.

Today I learned that in those moments sometimes the best thing to do is to stop and turn around. You never know what hidden joy you just might find.

Lost in Translation

Hat-a-hat!!!!!!!!!!

If you are a parent, then you also know that there are few things more frustrating than translating the dialect of an agitated toddler.

Yesterday I had it going on in stereo.

Hat-a-hat!!!
Hat-a-hat!!!
Haaaaaaaaaaaat-a-HAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heaven help me.

For twenty minutes I stared blankly at Logan and Dani as they enunciated as best they could without comprehending any of it.

I tried giving them every hat of theirs in the house.
No dice.

I'm so sorry, but I don't understand!
I sounded like a broken record.
What hat?!?!?!

Finally, Dani looked at me as if I was the dimmest bulb of the bunch.

Moooooommmmmmmmmmm, a hat-in-a-hat!!!!!

Suddenly the light brightened.

Ohhhhhhhhhh!!!! The Cat in the Hat?

Huge smiles in sync lit up tiny faces as Mom finally got it.

Yes!!! Hat-in-a-hat! Hat-in-a-hat!

Funny how so often the greatest frustrations in life come from simple misunderstandings.
Miscommunications.
When we assume we know where the other person is coming from, when in reality we just don't have a clue.
No matter your age.

Now if you'd so kind as to excuse me, it would seem that story time awaits. 

{five things xxiii}

Per Heather's request, I'm posting a Five Things-- Halloween Style. :)

Now, truth be told, Halloween really isn't my favorite holiday. I have fun dressing the kids up and usually myself as well (although sleep deprivation won out to getting a costume for me this year!), but as for the creepy and gory aspects of the day I am just not a fan. I don't like violence... and scary movies are r-e-a-l-l-y not my thing, unless you're talking about old classics like Wait Until Dark.  (The last scary movie I watched was 2002's The Ring... and I'm pretty sure it will be my last. Scared the living daylights out of me, and I think I only watched about half of it-- the rest of the time I covered my eyes!) There's enough darkness in the world without me seeking it out for entertainment.

I've enjoyed hearing ideas on alternative ways to celebrate the day from interesting people from various corners of the web, including Heather, Misty, and Jen. Perhaps next year we'll incorporate some of their ideas with our own traditions to add a little extra depth to the holiday.

At our kids' charter school, instead of a traditional Halloween party, the elementary grades put on a History Fair. Each grade dresses according to the historical era they are studying in their classes and they visit all the grades to learn a little about each time period. I really love that idea, and it was a lot of fun for Taylor and Reilly.

So, without further ado, here are my five little trick-or-treaters!

- one -

Taylor's class is studying the War of 1812. In his class there were soldiers, pioneers, pirates, elegantly dressed ladies of the era... but Taylor was the only Red Coat! 

After researching a little on what the soldiers' uniforms looked like, we decided with a little modification that a marching band costume would make a great British uniform. He was quite debonaire, don't you think? 

That crooked smile. It kills me. :)

- two -

Reilly's class is studying ancient Egypt, so she went as an Egyptian princess. At first she was really excited to get dressed up and do the eye makeup, and then after she saw herself in the mirror she wasn't too sure anymore. I think she was a little nervous of being the only one decked out quite like she was. Once we arrived at the school and she saw all her classmates she became very enthusiastic again. She had lots of other Egyptian princesses, pharaohs, and mummies to keep her company. Taylor said that if he had been in her class he would have gone as Joseph of Egypt or an Israelite slave. That made me smile.

- three - 

With Dani's current girly-girl fascination with all things princess-y or fairy-related, I thought for sure she'd go with one of Reilly's old costumes this year. However, she was not impressed. Instead, she found Taylor's old horse costume and THAT is what she HAD to be this year. She was pretty adorable, I must say. Although, I kept thinking of Jacqueline from the movie Ever After and chuckling. 

"Honestly, Jacqueline, the horse is one of God's noblest creatures!"

- four -

Logan was our resident dragon this year. He was so excited when he saw the costume and immediately got into character the second he put it on. 

He has been running around the house ever since roaring fiercely, as a good dragon should.

I don't think we are ever going to get him to take it off.

- five -

And to round it all out, one of the cutest little monsters this green earth has ever seen.

I adore this happy little man.

• • •

And those are my five things for the week!

Warm wishes to you and yours.

♥

{five things xviii}

- one -

It feels really wonderful to get back to a bit of writing lately. I've missed it a lot.

It has been a challenge to do because my preeclampsia took a turn for the worse a few weeks ago. My blood pressure decided to jump drastically, and if I exert myself too much I start to get extremely light headed and nauseated. The accompanying swelling has given me carpal tunnel syndrome and a lovely pins-and-needles sensation in my hands and feet.

As a result, I'm under doctor's orders to keep off my feet as much as possible. If I don't, it's pretty likely that I'll be put on bed rest. I believe the exact words used were, "Now is the time to let the house go to pot," and "If you don't have to do it, DON'T."

It's incredibly frustrating because I really don't feel terribly sick (other than the normal exhaustion & body aches) until I overdo it. So there's this fine line I have to walk and I'm not exactly certain where it lies. I find if I take it easy, allow people to step in and help while I enjoy good health that I feel terribly lazy-- as though I'm Cleopatra floating down the Nile being hand-fed clusters of grapes. But if I blaze on through and try to tough things out, inevitably I end up in bed with blood pressure 40 points above normal with the room spinning about me.

*sigh*

But truly, I am doing well despite all this, and I am grateful for the tender mercies that have buoyed our family the last several weeks and for all the wonderful friends and neighbors that have bent over backwards to lend a hand. We are also tremendously grateful for this little boy that is soon to join our family (in six weeks, give or take!), and I would still do this all over again even if I knew what I'd have to go through to get him here.

- two -

My heart has been heavy this past week because of a tragedy that took place in our neighborhood last Thursday. Two of my good friend Hope's boys were struck by an SUV as they rode a bike home from a soccer game. The older of the two is doing remarkably well, all things considered-- recuperating at home now after a brief stay in the hospital with a broken leg and many bumps and bruises. The younger, who is friends with Taylor & Reilly, is still being cared for at Primary Children's in Salt Lake with several injuries to his brain, neck, and spleen, as well as a broken leg. He has been gradually improving, but as Hope says, he's not out of the woods yet. There is a long uncertain road ahead for them.

I wish so much that there was something more I could do other than continually remember them in my prayers. Although I truly believe that the power of prayer is no small thing, I do feel a bit useless just laying around here when my friends are going through something like this. So if you are so inclined, would you please say a prayer for them?

- three -

During the difficult times, I find a lot of solace in music. Montserrat over at Chocolate on my Cranium recently posted one of my favorite songs by Nicole Nordeman-- you can check it out here.

For the last few months, another song that has really gotten me through the difficult moments is "Blessings," by Laura Story. She wrote the lyrics to this beautiful melody in response to her husband's struggle with brain cancer. (Which as some of you know is another topic that is very close to my heart.) You can hear Laura's moving story from her own heart here. I hope you enjoy the music.

Another song that is a favorite around here is Steven Curtis Chapman's "Long Way Home," which was partially inspired by dealing with his own grief after the loss of his daughter. It has quickly become Reilly's favorite song of all time. Hearing her sing along with the radio never fails to make me smile. Even on the difficult days, the upbeat melody and lyrics always lift our spirits.

- four -

Speaking of lifting our spirits...

This little girl never fails to do just that on a daily basis.

Over the past couple of months, little Miss Dani has really come into her own. 

She is full-out, no-holds-bar, all girly-girl with the exuberant personality to match. Every day is a new opportunity to express herself, and she has definite ideas about the way her world (and fashion choices) should be. I am so thankful for the laughter that fills our days courtesy of this sweet little prima donna of ours. 

And her "little" brother as well.
Because really, it has been double the fun with these two.

(Someone may want to tell Elton John that Logan has his old sunglasses...)

Despite what people like to say about the "terrible twos," I have decided that this is one of the most fun stages of a young child's life. Their enthusiasm for life, sweet innocence, and wonderment is such a treasure.

- five -

Just in case you missed my post yesterday, I wanted to encourage all mothers to read this wonderful essay by Ann Voskamp of A Holy Experience. Entitled "The Habit of a Mother Who Changes the World," it literally changed my perspective on my own little corner of the world. I cannot recommend it more highly.

I love being a mother. It is the hardest, most challenging work I have ever engaged in, but the rewards and blessings have made every back-breaking day worth it. Life is good.

• • •

And those are my five things for Friday!

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

April Adventures • A Birthday Celebration

Last Friday was a Very Special Day.

Danika & Logan celebrated their second birthday with family, food, and in Dani's case, a hijacked teal tutu from her big sister's closet.  It's funny how just a couple of years ago I couldn't for the life of me imagine how I would ever manage life with twins.  Now, I think it's safe to say that we can't imagine what life would be like without these two little loves in our home.  In many ways, they have brought our little family even closer together.  The bonds that they have developed with their older siblings are especially precious to me. 

Just in the past few months they have grown so much.  They have transformed from our little babies to expressive, inquisitive children seemingly in the blink of an eye.  I am tremendously proud of them and the sweet, loving spirit they bring into our home.  They make me laugh out loud every single day.

Happy Birthday, twinners! 

Precious Moments

Yesterday I posted a little about my friend Saundra's observation that Logan was a living breathing replica of a Precious Moments doll.  I've always thought he was adorable, but never had made that comparison in my mind.  (Perhaps due to the fact that I've never really been a big fan or collector of them.)  Last night, however, I took some pictures of my little Logan and had a good chuckle over the similarity.

He really is a doll.
Inside and out.

{five things xvi}

 - one -

I looked out the window this morning and what did I see?

Apparently my apricot trees decided to freely ignore the advice I have been giving them the for last several weeks.  I warned them that it was way too early to start blooming... that a late spring squall was likely eminent... 

Clearly they didn't get the message.

Here's hoping they know better than me.

- two -

One of my favorite people on earth was at Harvard this past week to speak on the basics of Latter-Day Saint beliefs.  If you've ever wondered what all the hoopla and fuss is about-- it seems like every day there's a new (and usually distorted) story in the media-- you couldn't do much better than to learn about our beliefs from Jeffrey R. Holland.

Love him.
I would have loved to be there for the question and answer session afterward... I'm sure that would have been fascinating.

- three -

My doctor's appointment on Monday went well.  I brought up my concerns about my previous pregnancies and the swelling I had been experiencing, and he validated everything I'd been feeling. 

The fact that I'm swelling like this so soon in the pregnancy isn't particularly promising, but we'll keep hoping for the best.  At this point, we're just going to start monitoring my blood pressure a little more closely and I will stay aware of how my daily activities effect the swelling and my general well being.  

In other news, I am totally on board with Heather's potato chip remedy to combat pregnancy-induced swelling.

So far I haven't seen a difference, but I figure you need to give it at least a few weeks to see results, right?  ;)

- four -

The Trayvon Martin story in the news lately has been breaking my heart.  The more information that comes out in the case makes me more and more disheartened.  The fact that a neighborhood watchman could pursue an unarmed 17-year-old boy (who was carrying only Skittles and an iced tea), gun him down, and then claim self defense...  I don't know.  I hate that things like this happen in America.

Despite the fact that I am a lot more liberal than most of my neighbors here in the Beehive State (and much more conservative than many of my friends back in the Land of Lincoln), I do believe in gun rights.
When there was a true case of self-defense just recently in a neighboring community, where a home owner shot a man who was committing a home invasion robbery and attempting to kidnap him and his wife, I was completely supportive of his actions.  I do believe that we should have the right to defend ourselves and our loved ones.

But to open fire on a young boy because he "looked suspicious?"  What exactly is that supposed to mean?  That he was black and wearing a hoodie?  I really hope not.  But the way the facts are coming out...
My heart just breaks for his family.

- five -

Last week in church one of my good friends in our congregation made a comment about how cute the twins were.  She remarked on how beautiful Dani is, and then told me that she thought Logan looked just like one of those Precious Moments dolls.

I was a little amused at her observation...  I've never really been a huge fan of them myself, but when I started looking at pictures of them and Logan...
Maybe I'll have to rethink that.

He is pretty cute.

• • •

And those are my five things for Friday!
Best wishes for a wonderful spring weekend.
♥

Junior Executive

...Tie! ... Tie! ... Tie! ...

Apparently Dani and Reilly are not the only ones within our household who know how to make a fashion statement.

First thing every morning-- often before he asks for so much as a cup of milk-- Logan approaches us with his favorite must-have accessory: his clip-on tie.

It doesn't matter if he's still in his pajamas, wearing a T-shirt, or getting ready for church-- the tie goes with it all.

Just last week I heard on the radio that a time capsule was recently discovered in the old Crandall building in downtown Salt Lake City.  Inside were letters written in the late 1950's by prominent business and civic leaders in the community with their predictions of what the future would hold in the next century.  One such prediction foretold the happily-anticipated demise of the men's neck tie.

I'm sorry to inform that good gentleman that it simply isn't to be.
Not if Logan has anything to do with it.

Look out world, he's ready to take you by storm.

{five things xi}

- one -

Another week, another trip to the doctor's office.  I've started to wonder if we should just change our direct deposit so Bryson's paycheck can just go straight to the pediatrician's office.  This time we had to have an abdominal film taken for our little Logan.  Poor little guy is having all sorts of tummy trouble and has been in a great deal of pain.  Thankfully nothing serious is wrong, but he has to be on medication for the next couple of weeks.  So far, he is not a fan.

However, the good news is that the doctor was able to do a follow-up in the same appointment on Friday with Danika and see how her finger is healing up after Sunday's trauma-- and everything looks great.  There is no damage to the joints in her finger, and no signs of infection under the nail where the laceration occurred.  Just 3-4 more weeks of wearing her splint, and she should be good to go. 

It's been an exhausting 2012 so far, but we're hanging in there.

Now that we've conquered January, I feel like we can handle whatever comes our way.

I want to say, "February, do your worst!" but perhaps that isn't the best idea.  No, probably not.

- two -

Do you think God inspires radio disc jockeys?  I think that sometimes he must.

I love music.  All types.  However, I find myself drawn more and more to the great classics.  The dial on my car's radio is usually set to the local classical station.  In particular, I find the sacred choral music written by Vivaldi especially moving.  A couple of Sundays ago, I was feeling especially drained and run down, and when I got in the car one of my most favorite pieces began to play over the airwaves.  In that moment, it felt like a very warm-- and very real-- Providential hug.

The piece is Gloria in D. 

I hope it fills you with the same sense of joy and peace as it does me.

Whenever I hear those opening notes by the strings, my heart swoons.

And since I'm on the subject of Vivaldi, here is another work of his that sends my soul heavenward.  It may very well be my most favorite piece of music of all time, across all genres.  It is an aria from the sacred motet, Nulla in Mundo Pax Sincera.

I'm thankful for inspired composers and musicians (and DJ's, haha!) that bring a touch more beauty to this world.

- three -

We have a superhero in our midst.

Lately one of Dani's favorite things is to wear her blanket like a cape and trounce around in my black cowboy boots.  They go clear up to the tops of her thighs, which makes walking an interesting experience for her to say the least.  But no matter.  She will not be defeated.

It's tough work, saving the world.

- four -

On Friday night, Bryson and I watched the 2003 film made about the life of Mother Teresa. 
I highly recommend it.
While it may not be a big budget film with all the bells and whistles, it is something much greater.  It is a film that will make you stop and think.  It will cause you to reevaluate your priorities.  It may change your perspective on a lot of things in life.
That, to me, is what makes a truly great film.

- five -

Today Taylor bore his testimony in Sacrament Meeting.

He does this often.
(Waaaaay more often than his mom.)

What I love most about Taylor's testimonies is that they always come from the heart.  He doesn't get up and say the same things over and over in an endless repetition each month.  He thinks about what he truly believes and shares his thoughts with the rest of the congregation.
I'm certain that I never ever did that at the age of six.

At one point he shared, "I believe that Jesus lives and that He helps us."

He makes me so proud.  He makes me want to continue to learn and strengthen my own faith in return.  I often think that I learn so much more from him than he does from me!

• • •

And those are my five things for the week!

P.S. Thanks for all the words of encouragement and advice about dealing with sciatica-- I've tried some of your suggestions to great results.  :)

Angels

Yesterday.
It wasn't such a good day.

My sweet Reilly-girl, who had been ailing for the past several days took a turn for the worse.
A high fever, chills, and a side and tummy ache.  She looked as pale as death: her skin almost translucent, dark purple circles around her eyes, emphasizing the contrast.  Listless and lethargic, she only wanted to crawl under her blanket and cry.

A trip to the doctor's office did not provide many answers-- other than what her condition wasn't.

It wasn't strep.
It wasn't the flu.
It wasn't appendicitis.

Genuinely concerned, the doctor told me that it was most likely a simple virus, but if she wasn't feeling better within 36-48 hours that I should call him immediately.

Not feeling super great myself, I girded up my loins for a long afternoon.  The kind where a mama's needs definitely take a backseat for her little ones.  It's always in those moments that providential strength comes to lift and comfort, even if it doesn't always make things easier physically and emotionally.

By the time evening came, it found me sitting on our ottoman, head in my hands.
I was just absolutely exhausted in every way imaginable.

It was at that moment that there was a little tap on my arm.
I moved my hands from my eyes to see my little Logan grinning back at me.

"Hi," came his sunny greeting. 

His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but laugh as I picked him up and held him to face me eye-to-eye.

He looked at me, and making certain I was keeping eye contact with him, he placed one small hand on each side of my face.  Cupping my face in his hands he smiled warmly at me and made a single emphatic pronouncement.

"Mama."

He then tapped my cheeks with his palms, as if to reaffirm the message.
It came through loud and clear.

"Mama."

I am so grateful for the angels-- seen and unseen-- that get me through the difficult moments in life.

Especially little 20-month-old ones.

Consecration of Will

It is ten minutes to ten o'clock in the morning, but it might as well be the middle of the night.
My body just wants to sleep.

I wish pregnancy was easier on me.
I really envy some of my girlfriends, who seem to waltz through the prenatal months so effortlessly.
Gracefully.
Unfortunately, that is simply not my lot in life. (Pregnant or not!)

For me, pregnancy is an arduous process-- it taxes my body, my mind, my spirit.
No matter how prepared I think I am going into things, it never fails to surprise me all over again with just how difficult it can be.

But, really, it's okay.

If this is the sacrifice required of me to bring another precious spirit into our family, I accept it whole-heartedly.
Gracefully, even.
(Most days.)

In the Gospel of Mark we read:

And [Jesus] took a child, and set him in the midst of them:  and when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them,

Whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me.

Just days after the twins were born, I began having the strangest thoughts come over me while I was holding my newborns-- particularly with Logan (he is the "baby" of the two).  Even though I was *certain* that our family was complete, I kept getting these little impressions that there was yet another pregnancy to come.  At first I shrugged it off, telling myself that I was just feeling a little sad at the prospects of being done with this stage in our lives.  As much as I loved these little ones, I did not especially want to put my body and spirit through the rigors of another nine month ordeal.

The impressions continued, however.  They nagged and resisted my attempts to reason logically with them as to why our family was just fine the way it was.  When they persisted despite all my best efforts to sweep them under the rug, I slowly began to recognize them for what they were.

God had a different plan than we did.
And being that His plans always work out so much better than my own, I decided that maybe I ought to listen.

So I did.  And gradually, over the course of a couple of months, my heart began to soften.
As I opened my heart to the idea, I decided that I probably better break the news to Bryson.

I think I kind of blindsided him.

But after a few weeks of considering the impressions I had shared with him, he had a deeply personal experience of his own that confirmed the path that lay before us.
 
After that, we never looked back.
We've gone forward in faith, trusting in the Lord's timing.

Which is not to say that there haven't been times when I have questioned the sanity of adding another spirit to our family with all that is on our plates.  But at those moments I remember the experiences I have had, and in Whom my trust is placed.  Reconsideration was never an option.  (And a little bit late at this point!)

So while these next few weeks and months will be a considerable challenge, I am heartened by the knowledge that I am not alone.  And that He is happy with the path we have chosen.

... The submission of one's will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God's altar.  The many other things we "give," brothers and sisters, are actually the things He has already given or loaned to us.  However, when you and I finally submit ourselves, by letting our individual wills be swallowed up in God's will, then we are really giving something to Him!  It is the only possession which is truly ours to give.

Consecration thus constitutes the only unconditional surrender which is also a total victory!

(Neal A. Maxwell, "Swallowed Up in the Will of the Father," Oct. 1995 Conference Report) 

Eighteen Minutes

3:12 in the afternoon.

Only 18 minutes, give or take, until the "big kids" burst in the front door:
Breathless and rosy-cheeked from their sprint home from the bus stop.

18 minutes to be productive.

The kitchen is overflowing.
The carpets need cleaning.
The laundry needs folding.

*sigh*

18 minutes.

Then a knock.
And a cry.

Mamamamamama!

Naptime is ending.

I let Logan out of his room, and give him a quick kiss and a snuggle.

I attempt to set him down.

18 minutes, you know.

But it's just not happening.
Sometimes a boy just needs his mamamamamama.

So we cuddle on the couch instead.
His head on my chest, snuggling in tighter.
Soft, contented baby sighs.
(No sound sweeter.)

One small hand stroking my hair
The other holding his beloved Puppy fast.
(Puppy tail in mouth, naturally.)

18 minutes.

It's simply not enough time.

The Do-Over

This is me, at approximately one o'clock yesterday afternoon.  Red flannel pajamas, hair unkempt, sans makeup.

Just keeping it real.

To say that the last week has been a challenge would be a horrible understatement.  Last week I was the lucky winner of a particularly unpleasant stomach bug that turned me into a walking zombie for several days.  And of course, being the caring and compassionate mother that I am, I had to share with the rest of the household.  All of us, except Bryson, have fallen victim to this nasty little virus.  Lucky duck.

Because of Bryson's challenging work schedule of late, I have been pretty much on my own taking care of our sick little brood.  It has made for some very long days and nights.  I really don't want to go into revolting detail, but just picture a first grader, a kindergartner, and two eighteen-month-old babies going through the worst stomach virus you can imagine. Welcome to my week.

It has been Vile.
With a capital V.
And I've been a mom for several years now.
There are few things that gross me out anymore.

But do you know what?

I am so incredibly happy. 
Yep, you read that absolutely right.

You see, a few weeks ago I found myself in a similar situation-- albeit not as bad-- as the one I am in right now.  Fighting a minor cold myself, I was struggling terribly as I tried to tend to my sweet little Logan-- who was suffering through an ear infection and sore throat.  He would not be consoled.  There was nothing I could do to stop his heart-breaking cries, except pray.  But my faith wasn't enough to take away my baby's pain.  As his wails continued into the night for hours, I began to feel incredibly powerless.  And resentful.

I wanted a miracle.  I wanted God to take my order and deliver immediately.  I wanted my husband to be home, where he could help me.  I wanted to sleep so that I could get over my own cold.
Wanted, wanted, wanted.

I even called up my husband at an unearthly hour and vented.
Okay, so "vented" may not be entirely accurate.
"Tantrum" is the word coming to mind that seems most appropriate here.

After I got a few meager hours of sleep and came to myself, I started seeing my actions with new eyes.

S-H-A-M-E.

I was mortified.  Had I really just presumed to counsel the Lord?  Had I really just told off my husband with complete and utter ingratitude for all he does for my family?  I wanted to crawl under a rock.  I felt like I had been given an important test and I had failed.  Miserably.

I called Bryson and apologized profusely.  I spent quite a bit of time that morning in silent prayer as I tended to my sick little boy.  I pleaded for forgiveness and for a chance to prove myself, to try again.  I prayed for the strength to do better. 

I got my chance this week.

It has surprised me how different things have been.  Even though the sickness has been so much worse in scope and severity, I have stayed upbeat through it all.  Sure, I'm tired.  But I have seen the blessings of being able to care for my family with such greater clarity this time around.

I am blessed to be in a position to care for these precious little ones.

As I have held them close and comforted them through this illness, there has been no resentment.  Only gratitude.  Instead of being so selfishly focused, I have tried to forget myself and get to work.  (Thank you, President Hinckley!)  And the funny thing is, it has only increased my own feelings of love and happiness.   

In 1984, Elder Russell C. Taylor, then of the First Quorum of the Seventy gave a fantastic discourse on service.  I happened upon it recently, and was struck by the power in these words:

I can say unashamedly, I rejoice in the service of God.  My experience teaches that the highest goodness attainable is a life of unselfish service to mankind...  Some mistakenly think that a commitment to service comes after a great spiritual experience.  This is like the man who is cold, standing before the stove, and saying, "Give me heat, and then I will put in some wood."  The joy and blessings of service follow the rendering of service. 

There comes a time in the life of all people when they must certify with their actions what they believe.  Jesus said of His own life, "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." (Matt. 20:28)

Fathers and mothers, with your strength of example you will influence your sons and daughters for eternity with examples of loving, uncomplaining service far more convincingly by doing than only by saying.
("The Joy of Service," October 1984 Conference Report, emphases in original text) 

I can truly attest to the joy and blessings than come from selfless service.

As I cradled my baby girl recently, bathing her for likely the third time that day, the words of the Savior played repeatedly in my mind.

Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. (Matt. 25:40)

I have learned that as we serve our children with a deepened desire to lay our selfish interests on the Lord's altar, that He will strengthen us in ways we cannot imagine.  He will never shut us out-- and often when we are feeling that He has, it is often due to our actions-- that we have shut Him out.

If we can but humble ourselves, He will lift us above ourselves and fill us with an abundance of peace and joy.

Truly, my cup runneth over.

• • •

Celebrate giving with gratitude this month with us!

Thy Will Be Done

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear-- not absence of fear.  Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave; it is merely a loose misapplication of the word.

- Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson [1894]

• • •

Sometimes, doing what God asks of us is a joy.
It may stretch us, naturally, but we understand that this is so and walk ahead with confidence in His plan.

Other times, well...
It's not always easy.

In the summer of 2009, things were going fantastically well for me.  I really felt that I was starting to come into my own.  I was in great health, achieving many personal goals I had set for myself, balancing the demands of motherhood relatively well, and finally making peace with my deeply ingrained (and completely unproductive) perfectionism. 

Of course, it is in those moments of absolute complacency that the Lord decides to introduce opportunities for growth.

Now at the time, Bryson and I were fully aware that our family was not complete.  We knew that there was at least one more spirit meant to bless our family.  I was just hesitant to subject my body to the rigors of pregnancy again.

I was stalling.
And to be perfectly honest, I felt justified in that mindset.

You see, pregnancy and I are not exactly on good terms with one another.

It is not always the most simple thing for me to conceive, and when I had in the past, each of the nine months spent developing those precious little babies were a physical nightmare for me.  I experienced toxemia (preeclampsia) with both, and my health suffered tremendously.

With Reilly in particular, I was especially ill.  I gained weight at an uncontrollable pace despite a balanced diet.  My blood pressure jumped to a much higher level than is normal for me.  The swelling was absolutely unbearable.  Even after my sweet girl was born I continued to suffer from these maladies.  The blood pressure increased.  The swelling increased horrifically as well, making breastfeeding physically impossible.  I was rendered fairly incapable of caring for myself, much less my family.  

My sister & I just after Reilly's birth the summer of 2006; us again the summer of 2009

I was terrified of going through that again.

I did not want to suffer through nine months (or more) of illness.
I did not want to feel that I wasn't adequately nurturing my two children who were already here.
I did not want to be dependent on the good will of others to take care of the responsibilities I felt were my own.

Seriously.
I did not want to.

It was at this time that Bryson and I had the opportunity to take Taylor and Reilly to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house.

There was a tremendous spirit there, and as our little family entered one of the sealing rooms we took a moment to gaze into the beautiful mirrors together-- our reflections echoing endlessly in beautiful symbolism.  As I stood there with my family, the Spirit spoke very clearly and directly to my heart.

It was time.

I felt very strongly that I needed to pull myself together and trust in God's plan. 

However, just an hour or two later I was starting to waver again.  After leaving the sacred halls of the temple, reality set in.  Chatting with Bryson as we began the drive back home, I casually mentioned that I thought we should start trying for another baby at the beginning of the upcoming year-- several months into the future.

Keeping his eyes on the road as he drove, Bryson frowned slightly.

"Really?"  he postured carefully, "I was kind of thinking that now was the right time.  We'll certainly do whatever you think is best, but that's just the impression I felt in the temple."

I groaned inwardly.

"You felt that too?" I asked, a tinge of shame entering my voice.  "Well, if the time is right now, then I guess we'd better take Heavenly Father's advice to heart."

And a few short weeks later we were expecting.
And a few short months after that we learned we were expecting double.

Twins!

My head began to spin.  I actually laughed at my physician when he mentioned the possibility.  A nervous laugh.

But after the confirming ultrasound, I was filled with such peace and joy.  I knew we were following God's will for us and that we would be sustained-- come what may.

Now, I wish I could tell you that the months that followed were full of sunshine and roses, but that isn't the case.

It was an enormous challenge.

Although I managed to avoid the complications of toxemia, I was still ill throughout most of the pregnancy.  But there were many tender mercies also.  Unlike before, where I was so nauseous and fatigued that just getting out of bed was a challenge, I was at my best in the morning-- enabling me to tend to my children and get them to school with little incident.  While the exhaustion I felt was significant, Bryson's work schedule enabled him to be home to help in the evenings when I was most sick.  Those small but substantial blessings reconfirmed to us that the Lord was there and mindful of our needs.  That He was pleased with our willingness to listen to the promptings of the Spirit-- even with my initial hesitancy.

Sometimes it takes courage to step forward in faith when the way is fraught with uncertainty.
I don't presume to put myself up as an example of bravery, but for me it was an enormous turning point in my own personal spiritual growth.

It would have been so easy to say, "Certainly God would not wish for me to put my life and the well-being of my children at risk to go through another complicated pregnancy."  To take those trusting steps into the dark before the way is lit-- it's challenging at best.  But despite our misgivings, we know in Whom we can trust.  And we need not be afraid.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
(2 Tim. 1:7)

And yet, following God's will does not necessarily equate to being led down the proverbial primrose path.

Just because we are doing everything we are asked to does not mean that the way will not be filled with difficulty, discouragement, and despair.  But as we trust in His infinite wisdom and love for each of us individually, we discover a resilience and inner strength that will see us through the storms of life. 

President Thomas S. Monson has said:

Life's journey is not traveled on a freeway devoid of obstacles, pitfalls, and snares.  Rather, it is a pathway marked by forks and turnings.  Decisions are constantly before us.  To make them wisely, courage is needed: the courage to say "No," the courage to say "Yes."  Decisions do determine destiny.

The call for courage comes constantly to each of us.  It has ever been so, and so shall it ever be.
("The Call for Courage," Apr. 2004 Conference Report)

With the determination to move forward in faith, we can take courage in the fact that the Lord will not forsake us.  Even in the midst of adversity He will ever be there.  
And by His endless grace, we shall become more than we were before.

• • •

This post is part of a Wordfull Wednesday link-up hosted by Chocolate on my Cranium! 

like father, like son

Over the years, there's always been somewhat of a debate over who each child looks more like, Bryson or I.

Different people tend to see different things.

In my own humble opinion, I think that Taylor leans more toward my side of the family, while Reilly resembles Bryson's side.

Dani looks quite a lot like I did as a baby.

But, Logan...

Well, there is no question who his daddy is.

{ Logan on the left, Bryson on the right }

Yep.
No question at all.

Family Proclamation Blog Hop: FHE & When Our Children Teach Us

Over the years, we've tried to have Family Home Evenings that taught our children the doctrine of the family.  We've used various resources, such as the FHE manual, lots of visuals from the Gospel Art Book, primary-oriented clip art (we've used the Primary Partners books put out by Mary Ross & Jennette Guymon King to supplement our own lessons quite frequently), and the scriptures.

One of our most favorite FHE resources is the Preach My Gospel manual put out by the church.  Because, really, who better to use a missionary tool with than the little investigators living right in our very own homes?  It does a great job of distilling precious doctrines clearly and succinctly, which is great if you are trying to teach a complex truth to a young child.  Our lessons tend to be simple and short, to meet the attention spans of our young children.  We also try to keep the focus on the message so they (hopefully) remember what we were trying to teach.

But I must admit, most of the time I feel that my children are daily teaching me so much more than I could ever hope to teach them, even with my best FHE intentions.  Some of these experiences I've written about, such as this one with Taylor, and some have gone by without documentation.  But needless to say, I am overwhelmed by the number of times my kids have stopped me cold in my tracks with their words and actions.

The past week presented one such example.

At the end of one of the main halls in our home hangs a large canvas print of a photograph I took of our children a few months after Dani and Logan were born.  (Coincidentally, a framed copy of the Proclamation on the Family hangs right next to it!)  Because it is located in a prominent location in the home, all of our family members pass it multiple times in a day.  In fact, in the process of getting all of our daily chores done, many of us often pass it by without even so much as a glance anymore.

But not Logan.

Sometime within the last couple of weeks, my little man has discovered the picture.  And even with his little 17-month-old mind, he understands that this picture has deep significance.  He does not-- and will not-- simply pass it by.  Each and every time he rounds the corner in the hall he stops and looks up.  He pauses.  And then with his finger he points.

At this juncture, his preference is to be picked up so he can get a closer look.  He studies the faces in the picture and points at each one, trying to say the names in his little babble.  After going through each of his siblings a couple of times, he is content to be lowered back down and carry on with whatever he may have been doing.

Because this happens multiple times a day, the rest of the children have keyed into what Logan is doing, and now no one is able to pass the picture without a pause and a recognition of what it stands for.

Our family is important.
Our family is central.
Our family is eternal.

Of all the lessons I've taught throughout the years, I'm fairly certain that Logan single-handedly trumped them all.

Looking at a simple photograph just may be the most effective FHE we've ever had.

{ five things for friday }

- one - 

After several months of working out of town, Bryson is back home.  We get to see him all seven days of the week now, not just on the weekends.
Life is good.
This morning as I was getting ready for the day, he poked his head in the bathroom and asked,
"Hey, would you like some eggs for breakfast?"
As if there were any question there.
Because truthfully, Bryson makes the world's best eggs over easy.
(And waffles.  Delicious waffles.)

Having your husband at home and making you breakfast on a school day?
This is a luxury I could get used to.

- two -

The Tooth Fairy found Taylor last night.
He lost his very first baby tooth this week, having pulled it out himself during school hours.
I can only imagine the disruption it must have caused in his first grade class.

But he brought it home safe and sound and thrilled to pieces.
Leaving me to wonder at how quickly he is growing up.

- three -

In other family related news, the twins have started climbing.
At the same time.
I was hopeful that this stage would come with a bit of separation, much like when Dani learned to walk a few months before Logan.
No such luck.

They are everywhere.
Of course this would be adorable, except that their most favorite makeshift jungle gym has become the kitchen table.
The old wobbly kitchen table and chairs that I grew up with.
With the hard linoleum floor beneath.

These are some pictures I took this morning:

My hair is turning grey just thinking about it.

- four -

Like a lot of Latter-Day Saints, I absolutely adore Elder Holland.  His words never fail to move me.  Over the past few months, I have been listening frequently to a BYU devotional he gave back in January 2009.  It is entitled "Remember Lot's Wife," and it is amazing.

If you have, like me, struggled to forgive yourself for past mistakes and regrets, I highly recommend listening to it.  You can download the audio here or here-- the transcript is also available at those links.

Here is a small snippet of his address, just to whet your appetite.

- five -

 I was tipped off to this adorable video testimony by Al Fox, a recent convert to the church, at Kathryn's wonderful blog.  I love the simple, pure love of the Gospel that radiates from Al's countenance, videos, and writing.  Joyful seems an appropriate adjective.  If you have the time, you'll have to check out her blog too.

 

I love her message that no matter who you are, where you are, or what you've done, that God loves you.  That there is a place for everyone in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Amen to that.

•••

And those are my five things for Friday!

Zip-a-dee-do-dah

So, it's finally happened.
The twins are talking.

Aside from the traditional "Mama" and "Dada," the first words are officially in.

For Logan, it was "uh-oh."
For Dani, it was "shoe."

Obviously, we are in big trouble here.

But my current favorite word being said around the house these days is Dani's version of "sippy cup."  Not being able to clearly pronounce the sounds required of her, it has instead become a "sippy sip."  And most of the time even then, she has difficulty in getting her "s" sound correct.  In which case, the words come out "zippy zip."

Zippy zip.
I love it.

Every time she toddles on over to me and asks me for a "zippy zip" in that cute little voice of hers,  I can't help but grin ear to ear.  Her charm is irresistible.

That is, until the other night when I was woken by the sounds of little Dani crying in her crib.  I glanced at the clock.  1:30 am.  Bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the nursery to comfort her-- assuming that she must be teething again, frightened, or in some other dire need.  As I approached her, however, the cries stopped and instead she gave me an enormous grin.

"Zippy zip?" she asked sweetly.

Hmmmmm...

I stared back at her in disbelief, trying to be annoyed.

But it was pretty much pointless.
Even then, it was still adorable.

Cheer and Bless and Brighten

There are certain moments in life when you feel undeniably connected to those who have gone before.  This past weekend was just such a moment.  As we celebrated our country's independence and honored those who fought to defend the liberties which we freely enjoy today, I remembered a man dear to my heart, who served his nation with honor during the second World War.

My Grandpa Ensign's service in the navy took him to many destinations, and as a result he spent many Sundays attending church among strangers.  There were many times that he felt lonely, sitting in a chapel where few would take the time to greet him and make him feel welcome in a place so far from home.  After his military service was over, he took it upon himself to ensure that any visitors to his own congregation were given a most warm welcome.  To the embarrassment of my then-adolescent father, Grandpa would purposefully seek out visitors and newcomers alike, introduce himself, and strike up a conversation.  No one would feel alone on his watch.

Fast forward to the present day, and this past Sunday I found myself sitting in the chapel of my sister's ward with my family.  Sitting in a pew toward the back corner by the door, I figured we wouldn't draw too much attention to ourselves.  I was wrong.

Logan, in the spirit of his great-grandpa, was determined to greet each and every family as they came to worship.  With an enthusiastic "hi!" and a hearty wave, he was the unofficial welcome committee for the day.  Immediately my thoughts turned to Grandpa and I felt a warm feeling of peacefulness-- as though he were smiling down on us at that very moment.  I'm certain he approved of Logan's cheerful efforts in carrying on his legacy.  I looked down to smile at my baby boy and received an adorably cheesy grin in response-- a perfect little ball of pure joy.

What a wonderful example to follow.
For that and so much more-- thanks, Grandpa.