Motherhood – Page 23 – Letters from Home

You are not doing this wrong.

I visited a friend earlier this year, when one of my children was going through some real trials. When she asked about my family, I shared that we were having a rough time, but no details. She leaned in and said to me, “It’s harder on the mom, I think.” It was really helpful for someone to acknowledge my pain, the pain from watching someone go through difficult experiences, even the pain of worry, anger (not for the child), and helplessness. Somehow, her words meant that I wasn’t doing it all wrong. I knew my child’s pain was greater than mine, and I couldn’t carry the child away from the trial and make everything better, so I ached inside.

While I will never share the specifics of what happened to our child, and between us, and between God and each of us, I want to share some hope, like my friend gave to me.

Chances are, you are not doing this wrong, if you are feeling pain for a child who is struggling.

Additionally, there are ways to allow the Savior to carry the pain. He is mighty to save, and so kind! One is to search for answers in the scriptures. I spent a lot of time reading the Book of Mormon, combing the passages for insights. There were many answers there. Plead for answers while partaking of the sacrament. I felt specific, clear directions during this sacred time. Pour out your soul in prayer, as often as you need it, and His help will come.

Some quotes that I needed during this difficult time:

Prayers of a Mother... general conference 2013

General Conference 2015 FREE Printable Quotes - This is going to be our new family motto! Loved this talk from Sister Marriott!

(images from Pinterest)

Kindness

Is there anything better than an older relative who spends time with you when you are little? Maybe they rescue you and help you get to shore; maybe they take time to play a child’s game, or dance with you when Grandma tells you it’s time to dance. I wish I knew how the kids learned to show such kindness and empathy. I like to think they learned it long before they came to us. I didn’t ask the kids to do these things. I really like seeing these photos of our kids being kind.

Earth from elements

Day 17 without a washing machine at home

Today’s morning prayer included:

gratitude for yesterday’s trip to the laundromat with Paige
a plea for help for my boys at school
gratitude for a lunch with two of the Charlenes in my life
gratitude for my parents who came over last night for dinner and to help Daniel with some Scout stuff
gratitude for a beautiful house
a plea for forgiveness
frustration about some things
the names of many ward members
a realization that I have so much help this year for school, including busing, a piano teacher who comes to our house, and an army of teachers to replace my efforts
a plea to know who I can help today and for the emotional strength to do it

I said amen, thinking, “Did I kind of fall asleep during part of that prayer?” Realizing that I had, the thought came that if God could make the earth out of elements, he can work with a servant who is a bit dozy. Then the thought came that I needed to find my cell phone because someone needed me. I figured it would be one of my boys who had just left for school. Almost immediately after finding my phone, it lit up. Someone was calling to ask me to help. I wouldn’t have heard it because it was on silent mode. Sometimes, especially lately, I need intervention like this to know what to do because my perception feels foggy. I couldn’t have thought to call this neighbor, so she had to call me. I’m glad she felt that she could. I am grateful the thought came to find my phone.

Keep praying, all. It works.

Eclipse shadows

I take this view as a tender mercy. I didn’t buy glasses to view the eclipse, didn’t make the drive to Idaho, and didn’t do anything I would normally do to engage in an experience with the kids. Richard, Daniel, and Paige all had opportunities to view the eclipse with glasses at work or on the U of U campus. We at home made a viewer out of a Cheerios box as the eclipse began and saw the tiny image of the sun in the box. As the light changed, the blue sky turned gray, and I saw hundreds of images of the eclipse dancing at our feet. Now, that was unexpected and beautiful and a lot more amazing than what we saw in our viewer.

Middle School

Mark had an exciting day yesterday.

He got his middle school schedule. His trumpet arrived. He walked the halls of the middle school with his friend Adam. I helped them find their classrooms and lockers, pointing out landmarks and reminding them which floor they were on, then I stepped back and allowed them to figure things out on their own. By the end, I was no longer walking with them. They grew confident in that hour.

Overheard as I walked the halls with them:

“It’s a relief to know I couldn’t actually fit in this locker if someone tried to stuff me in.”

“This is actually not as intense as I thought it would be,” as they looked at a display in a classroom.

Mark played his first notes on the trumpet. “That sounded beautiful,” said Adam. “Yep, it did,” replied Mark. “No regrets.”

Pioneer Day 2017

Pioneer Day in Utah is a lot more fun than Pioneer Day in other states we have lived. Mark was excited all day for the fireworks. His excitement translated into some entertaining conversation topics and extra energy to push the cart around Costco. I felt especially bothered by Costco yesterday. I could not get out of there fast enough. Does this ever happen to you? Daniel worked on the Cooking Merit Badge until he almost passed out from standing so long and maybe locking his knees. I think it may have had to do with handling raw meat, too. Note to self: cooking is a bigger service than you know. Mark made dinner, a nice ham quiche, while Daniel and I worked on dinners to freeze for an upcoming Yellowstone trip. In the evening, Paige and I drove the boys and Richard around the neighborhood in the truck, collecting the Scout flags that were displayed for the holiday. Later, we shared our sparklers with our little neighbors. “Can I have another sparkler, please?” little Andy kept asking. Thankfully, we had about a zillion of them to give. We have some serious fireworks enthusiasts on the street next to ours which we benefit from, so we have never bought aerial fireworks. This year, the favorite Ross-level firework was the “Cracker Barrel,” a tiny firework that just kept going.

Today I am working on my family reunion assignments, Church stuff, and the mudroom. But first, I sit in the trailer with the heater on as it dries out the rain that came through a zipper. This is why you are getting a post about minutiae.

Allow him

I think I can say that I am an expert on our son Mark, and this week he was different. He is used to being home alone without friends, so when he started to show frustration that he couldn’t get in touch with one of his friends, I was a little baffled. Over a few days, he kept asking me to contact his friend’s mother after his efforts to make noise and peer through the fence didn’t work to get his friend’s attention.

On Wednesday, the day before his Scout camp, Mark was especially lonely for this friend, but we couldn’t reach him. I took him out into the garden with me and we worked together. I looked at Lego sets with him online. I told him to clean his room (my answer for boredom). Eventually, the back gate opened and they were together at last.

That day they talked a lot about Scout camp and Mark talked his friend into going. “I had him at guns, Mom.” (There are rifles at Scout camp.)

I didn’t want to destroy his hopes, but I knew there were some hurdles to getting this boy to Scout camp the next morning. I tried to explain to Mark that it was up to the boy’s parents to get him ready, and there was a lot to do. I told him there might be trouble getting all the forms filled out, and the camp might not let him go at the last minute. This time, it was Mark’s turn to be baffled at me. He was sure his friend was going to Scout camp.

Mark was right, and the love he showed his friend was the key to getting him there. This sweet friend is a Church member, but doesn’t feel comfortable among the kids at church. Mark misses his friend on Sundays.

I realized that Mark’s discomfort all week was probably the Spirit prompting him to act. My attempts to divert his attention and dampen his enthusiasm didn’t make his job any easier. As I read a text of gratitude from the boy’s mother, what had begun for me as cautious encouragement for Mark turned to open admiration for his courage. Next time, I hope I will do more to allow him to follow the promptings he feels from the Holy Ghost.

It seems strange now, but I had spent some time this week worrying about sending Mark to camp. As he stepped out of the car when I dropped him off, I saw Mark’s confidence and maturity as he went straight to his friend to welcome him. There is strength and perception and power in our eleven-year-old. Trust me, I know because I’m a Mark expert.

You get a car… and you get a car!

We learned very quickly that having four drivers, three jobs, and three schools was a real challenge in logistics for our family, so we bought another car. It’s like an episode of Oprah here. Not that I really watched that, but you know what I mean.

Richard finished work on our PUP trailer (notice my lingo) this weekend.

I re-shelved the school books on Friday through teary eyes. I will face the clean-out of elementary school books someday.

Daniel and Timothy have a penchant for finding funny YouTube videos to show our family, especially at bedtime when we all need to be doing other things.

Paige, the sous chef, is back and I love the company in the kitchen. Mark still excels at muffins and other breads. Timothy, growing tall rapidly, lingers at the stove each night, watching things simmer, pitifully hungry, asking when dinner will be served.

Timothy pines for a smart phone and refuses to carry his dumb/non-smart phone. No problem; every other human has one he can use to call home. Slight problem: we can’t get a hold of him. Timothy has always been very smart and determined. He will probably win soon. Don’t tell him that.

I am in the middle of reading 5 books again. I find this is the magic number of what I can’t handle. I look at the stack, can’t decide what to read, throw my hands in the air, and take a nap instead.

Memorial Day weekend was simply the most beautiful and perfect I have ever enjoyed. The weather, the neighbors’ yards, the flags at every house in sight, the memories, the neighbors’ children and grandchildren playing in the cul-de-sac, and good food made it wonderful. I spent an afternoon reading and napping beneath our trees. I love how our neighborhood comes alive this time of year.

Things I loved about last week:

going out for pizza with Mark and Paige
watching BBC’s War and Peace
discovering the Great British Baking show master classes
giving some time for a stranger and making a new friend
driving in a clean car
having a clean mud room and school room
helping my boys assemble furniture
planning adventures this summer

Perspective

Perspective is almost impossible to have without stepping back and allowing light, space, and sometimes time to give us necessary wisdom.

Mark plays a console game on our television after his school and piano work are finished. It is a 30-minute reward for his efforts. He doesn’t sit as he plays; he jumps and dodges on one spot of rug, mimicking the moves of the game. The inexpensive rug in the room is starting to show wear on his spot. Exasperated, one day, I pushed my laundry baskets over the area and asked him to play on a different square of carpet. Days later, as I vacuumed over and over the spot, trying to pull up the fibers of the rug so they wouldn’t look so matted, I realized that I was being ridiculous. If Mark were to no longer be part of our life, I would treasure that square of rug because it was his spot. I would be sad that I had been more concerned about the rug than him enjoying his reward for hard work. No more complaining about the rug.

I have on loan two books which commemorate 25 years of our neighborhood church history. On its pages I see the portraits of my friends when they still had their children living at home. I read the accounts of their service in the church, doing the work I do now. Younger, more vibrant faces shine up at me from the pages, showing my now elderly neighbors in their days of deep service in the Church and the community. We are living the same story, 10, 20, 30 and 40 years behind our friends. I see ourselves in our friends’ faces in the book, taking our turn to serve with the youth and Relief Society. We will keep changing responsibilities, just as they did, and find ourselves back in Primary or Sunday School, and perhaps back again. What do my friends in this book teach me? That these days are fleeting. They are the adventures we will look back on for years to come. The stretching we feel now can help us grow to be a little more wise and kind– a little more like our friends.

I am tenderhearted this week as I finish the end of an era of teaching home school. The books on the shelf have served their purpose. What will I do with them now? I am not ready to give many of them away. They are a monument to how we have spent our days together. I gained a bit of perspective recently as I mourned this loss. I realized that what I have given my children, and the bond we have because of it, will not be taken away, even though circumstances change. As I step away from the books, papers, projects, and especially precious time together, I begin to see the fruits: our relationships and abilities rise up and take their place. I am so thankful for these years.

May is bigger than December

May has arrived. Our children are expected to be in 3 places at once sometimes. Baseball, extra piano rehearsals, church activities, work, school concerts, and performances pull them in many directions. With 4 drivers and 3 cars, we are just scraping by. But wait. Richard and I have to be in all of these places and more. I take it back. It is impossible. Last night there was no dinner. We just ate cereal or whatever we could scavenge. Someone said that she felt May was busier than December. It really is, but there is little baking required. No wonder it feels so difficult. May is December without the carbs.