Last week Timothy hinted meekly that he was playing in a concert during school. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to be there so I asked him on a scale from one to ten, how much he would like me to come. (Helping him avoid having to say the awkward, “Please don’t come, Mom.”) To my surprise, he said, “8 or 9.” So I went and I was one of four guests, three of whom were clearly grandparents. In other words, I was one of the privileged few. He even let me take a picture.
He is growing up but he still lets me be in love with him.
Last night Paige and I hosted the salad course of a progressive dinner at our house for the Young Men and Young Women in our congregation. We entertained 3 groups of 15 youths and leaders. Timothy and Daniel were in one of the groups together, but Tim didn’t depend on Daniel, nor did he sit by his dad who is now one of his youth leaders. He sat beside the new boy. I was glad to see it.
We went hiking today and Timothy spent a lot of time in a shallow cave in the canyon. When he emerged, he handed me my first hand carved sandstone valentine.
Sometimes I am guilty of giving my best to my students instead of my children. I am learning that I can give my best to both. When it is my turn to give a family home evening lesson, I share what I am learning in my personal study or preparations for lessons at church. This month I made some extra copies of the Plan of Salvation kits that I made for a young women lesson. Last night the kids cut them out and added them to their missionary/future family collections. We also prepared some for a missionary care package.
My mom told me that she would make Plan of Salvation visual aids with the missionaries all the time. She suggested that we include transparent “spirit bodies” which enter at birth, are separated at death, and reunited with the colorful physical bodies at the resurrection. I have to admit that this little detail is my favorite part of these laminated kits. Most of these elements come from The Friend Magazine, January 2008. If you want a copy I would be happy to send them to you. You can use my laminator if you’re close by, too.
I haven’t taken any pictures of the kids lately. I spend all day with Mark and when the kids come home it’s pretty nice to just be together. I haven’t taken a picture of the college admission letters Paige has received, nor the project in the garage where Richard wired for some outlets and a light. Timothy has joined us for youth activities on Wednesday nights and joined the jazz band at school. Daniel is a class officer at school and has been introduced to the world of school responsibility and some of the perks that go with it. He has been our plumber, fixing our broken sinks and his hair is getting long but I haven’t taken the time to cut it. I had a little cry in a parking lot the other day as a new level of reality set in about Paige leaving our house this year. I am happy and sad. I write and read and sew and try to create order in my lists and stitches and words as my little people spin into their own beings. It really does feel like a spin, this emergence of their individuality through all of the activities and study, milestones and challenges. It’s difficult to capture a picture of someone who is spinning.
One thing that Mark and I did for school yesterday was prepare some strawberry jam. My days with Mark are full. We move through the subjects each morning in a routine way, but that boy wants to talk to me all the time. He wants to tell me about Star Wars lore, Lego designs he is working on, his frustrations, Calvin and Hobbes comics, dry skin, skiing, friends, food, favorite flavors of Lifesavers candies, Chima Lego sets, career and college plans, etc., etc., etc…
It’s an exercise in focus for both of us. I try to understand what he’s saying and he tries really hard not to speak as he works on school assignments.
When the question came up in my scripture study about how to become more like a child, I immediately thought of Mark’s desire to connect with a parent. He wants to share almost everything with me. I should be more like that in my prayers.
I have been doing a lot of writing. The essays of my book are grounded in concrete events, so I am remembering big things and small about experiences with my children. You never know when you wake up in the morning and maybe when you go to bed that night if something from the day will become a memory. I am savoring the fact that small events such as a walk or a trip to the park rank among the Important Events of my life. I don’t remember many details about our babies’ days but I have my journals and that is a blessing.
I read an article today that asserted that all working moms wish they could stay at home and all stay at home moms wish they could go to work! What nonsense. I believe it’s possible to be ultimately content, despite proximate disappointments and worries. I also believe that people have more to offer when they’re not so busy gauging their own personal happiness.
I held a little snowflake making class at out house yesterday. As you can see, the women who came caught on very quickly.
This year I am dedicating time each day to write a book of glimpses of and reflections on motherhood.
It takes courage to write that. It will take courage to hit “publish” when I finish writing this post. I have been thinking about writing a book for a long time. I avoid publicizing my blog because the family is on display along with my words, but I want to share my writing with a larger audience. When I told Richard about my plans, he just said, “Wow, you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”
I am adapting some essays from the blog, but there will be plenty of new material, too. I work each morning for about an hour (or three). I have about 50 pages written.
I’m writing because I want to share a realistic but positive definition of motherhood without a focus on decorating nurseries and complaining about every little thing.
I’m writing because I wish there were more mothers with children over the age of ten sharing their experiences and perspective.
I’m writing because my children are growing up and I need to hold on to some memories (or write them down before I forget).
I’m writing because motherhood is difficult, but there are ways of finding joy in it. I’m writing to show others that finding joy is a strategy and it’s a skill; it’s not an air-brushed way of looking at life that refuses to acknowledge the bad.
I’m not writing because I think the book will be picked up by a publisher; in fact, I’ll probably have to print the book on the old laser jet and have it bound at the local print shop. The important thing is that my family will have this record. I will have this record. If anyone else can benefit from it and enjoy it, that will make me happy, too.
I never considered that reading the gospel of Mark would be a perfect way to bring in the New Year. It is so good at showing how to prioritize reflection and people despite being busy…even busy doing worthy things.
I read Mark 5 with the kids yesterday after school and asked them what they thought about a question I was pondering. Jesus told the man from whom he had cast out devils to go and tell his friends about it. Most of the time, Jesus tells people to keep the miracle of healing a private experience. (People can’t help telling, though.) Why was this man asked to share?
I didn’t expect an answer. In fact, I hadn’t found a satisfactory answer for myself. However, before we moved to the next verses, Timothy had a thought. He told us that Jesus knew that he would be surrounded by crowds of people asking him to heal them, but he was most willing to heal those with spiritual problems.
There you go. The Savior dealt with problems of crowd control, but he wanted it known that he was available to those who sought to be healed spiritually. That is what he was chosen to do from the beginning, and it’s still his work now. I believe it’s what he loves to do.
Daniel, anxious to change after his orchestra concert, pauses for a photo for his mom to share. What a good sport.
This is some of what I did last Thursday:
Cleaned the kitchen
Taught Mark about graphing, the Mycenaeans, and possessives ending with -es
Studied
Prepared food
Helped Tim memorize something
Made a dessert for a work party
Stood in line at the post office
Took Mark to the library
Went shopping
Gave 2 haircuts
Hemmed a tux for Daniel
Wrote a letter
Attended a work party
Attended a parent meeting at the high school
Attended a school band and orchestra concert
At Richard’s work party that night a female engineer asked me, “What do you do?”
I replied with a smile, thinking of all I did that day, “I stay at home.”
I guess my simple answer made her worry about my self esteem, so she told me it’s the hardest job in the world to stay at home.
Being respectful of her decision to work as an engineer, knowing that not all people have the option to stay home or the desire to stay home, and not agreeing that my life is hard, I mumbled something like, “I’m not sure about that…” and changed the subject.
These conversations are exhausting. Any job would be difficult if I didn’t embrace it, but staying home is exactly what I want to do and I love it. Maybe I need to frame my answer so people didn’t feel like they need to reassure me while downplaying their own contribution to the world. 🙂
This week President Henry B. Eyring represented our Church at the Vatican at a colloquium discussing traditional families.
I took notes as I listened to his 13-minute address. Despite current trends of the breakdown of families, he explained how there is hope to make things better. It begins with individuals, living righteous principles, such as holding family prayer, and the tradition passes to the next generation and then the next, growing stronger with each generation. He spoke a great deal about his wife and how they met and how she has helped him in his life.
Here are some of the words he said about his marriage:
I realize now that we grew into one, slowly lifting and shaping each other year after year. As we absorbed strength from each other, it did not diminish our personal gifts. Our differences combined as if they were designed to create a better whole. Rather than dividing us, our differences bound us together. Above all, our unique abilities allowed us to become partners with God…
Now, for my own thoughts on this. What have I learned about family life this week? It can be explained with a little story.
I came home late one night this week. I had missed dinner and family time. It makes me sad when I need to be away during the precious hours that we can be home together. I felt alienated as I walked into the kitchen and saw that the dinner I had prepared was now eaten and everyone was engaged in homework and other activities. But I didn’t get far into the kitchen before Richard and Mark ran upstairs to me and welcomed me home and gave me big hugs. That made me so happy. I’m convinced that successful marriages and families are built on very simple but consistent things. In this case, it was a warm welcome home.
