Yay!

I am the Primary chorister in our ward.  I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this calling.  It's seriously the dream calling, which I didn't appreciate when I had it 25 years ago, so I thought I'd never again get to do it.  And then I got called and I just wanted to turn cartwheels all the way home.

We only have about 30 children in our Primary.  It's small, and if any family is gone, we feel the hurt in our numbers.  The good news is that I know all 30 of those wonderful young people, and no kidding, I just adore them.  I don't think their parents could possible love them any more than I do (maybe as much, but not more).

After our opening exercises, Brother C and I go to nursery for singing time in there.  They are just babies, mostly, but after just two months they are already beginning to open up to me.  They already ADORE Brother C, who loves them back and who takes the lead during nursery.  After nursery we go back to Primary for the last couple of minutes of Sharing Time.

Yesterday Sister A finished Sharing Time and said, "Okay, let's get ready for singing time!"  About three little voices all said, "Yay!"  Annie said, "It's just so fun!"

First of all, the children can't have any more fun than I am having.  Going to Primary is not a job--it's play time!  I love the children.  I love the music.  We play games.  We talk about the gospel.  We feel the spirit of the Lord.

Secondly, every person ought to have the kind of support in their callings that I get in mine.  Not only does the Primary presidency love me, but the kids call out, "Yay!" when I get there.

What if we all gave a shout when someone performed their calling?

It should happen to everyone at least once, I think.

The Paths We Choose. Or Don't.

When our oldest children were little, my sweet MIL bought me a subscription to Reader's Digest every year.  I loved that little magazine!  My favorite stories were those of people who made a difference in people's lives.  Sometimes they paid for things that others couldn't afford like food, dance shoes, college educations.  Sometimes they just did little things they were good at, but these little things turned into a big deal:  opening a free dance studio after school; teaching a class at the local school for free; allowing kids quiet study time at their table.  Of course, the stories in RD were always about how someone had made a big difference by helping hundreds of kids or how they started the world's largest non-profit organization or something like that.

Spencer and I had multiple conversations about this.  We'd debate (neither of us taking a side, really) on if it was better to do small things but raise a large family or if you should limit your family size and then make a difference once a week for a LOT of people.  We never really reached a decision about what was best, probably because there's no answer to that.

We had our question somewhat answered for us when I was diagnosed with MS.  It was clear in our hearts that we could take a risk to have one more child, but beyond that we could not risk having a family with no mother.  So we had Landon, and then we were finished.

At that point in my life--I gotta be honest--I had my hands completely full.  I was trying to be a good wife and mother, serve in the Church, help out in our children's school, and whatever else I figured I was supposed to be doing at that time.  It was a lot, and I sometimes think Heavenly Father threw MS into our lives so that I would stop with the babies in order to remain sane.  My hat seriously goes off to people with larger families than ours.  I wanted more children, but I'm not sure it would have been wise for me.

For all those years, we also discussed adoption.  I had no trouble with fertility, but there was something in me that told me that we would have more.  Again, I didn't know how in the world that could happen.  I had a houseful of little ones and we had no money to even consider adoption.  We'd also had experience with fostering, and I was quite sure my heart would not survive that.

Well, our children got older and bigger and more capable, and all of a sudden (it seems) we realized that it was GREAT to have big kids.  I mean, we seriously ADORE big kids.  They are so fantastic!  So the need in my heart to have more babies was assuaged.

As a convenient career option, I opened a preschool in our home.  In planning for that, I was certified as a facilitator for Good Touch/Bad Touch, a sexual abuse prevention program for pre-K to 6th grade students.  I taught GT/BT in three different schools--plus my preschool--for 6 years.  There was not a year that I didn't have to call DCFS to report possible abuse of a child (including some of my preschoolers).  Oh, how this would break my heart!  I would cry, and Spencer would say, "Are you sure this is worth it?"  I would reply, "If not me, who?"

It was during these 6 years that Spencer and I realized that I have an incredible capacity to love children, and they sense it.  Spencer says I could go to a grocery store and bring home any child because they would gladly come with me.  And I would love it!  Children wave at me from across the store.  I have full conversations with little ones when we are in an elevator or standing in line, and most of the time I do not instigate it.

This sounds like I'm bragging, but I'm not.  The point is that God put me on a path to love and bless children, and I hardly knew it was happening.  I am incredibly blessed to have borne 4 wonderful children; I love our nieces and nephews (and now their children) in ways I never thought possible; I have given safe harbor to dozens (maybe hundreds) of children, if only for a few hours; I can serve in the Primary and there is not one child who I don't absolutely adore.

I am convinced that those RD stories and my feelings of needing to adopt were placed directly in my path to prepare my mind and heart for the ability to love and bless all children.  I hope to have more opportunities to love and teach (and learn from!!!) many more children throughout my life.  Mmm. Delicious thought!

My Cup Runneth Over

Surely agoodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Last week when we were at the Jazz game, I did so much laughing with Landon.  For a moment he laid his head on my shoulder, and I leaned against his spiky faux-hawk.  :)  Spencer took my hand as we were leaving the arena, and I just felt completely overcome with love and gratitude.

Ashtyn is my helper in my Primary class each Sunday.  She often helps to answer the questions, and she has WONDERFUL answers that are relevant for the children.  She helps them walk reverently down the hall to Sharing Time, then she walks reverently to her YW class.  She often shares with me the lessons they've had, the discussions they've shared, or the thoughts she's had while reading her scriptures.  I call it our Seminary Time, and she is such a blessing to me!

I'm not sure what's up with Tay sometimes.  He (and the others) are ALWAYS in my heart and in my prayers.  I am not afraid to ask them about their lives, but I know there are many things that I just don't know.  Anyway, lately he will walk up to me and just grab me in a huge embrace.  He tells me he loves me and I tell him I love him more and I'm so proud of him and so grateful for him.  Sometimes we talk after that, and sometimes not so much, but it is sheer joy to be in the arms of my man-child, just because sometimes he needs his Mom.

Today Breezy called from the Denver airport.  She is on her way--as I type--to the mission field in Indiana.  She was sad to leave the people she had come to love in the MTC, especially the sweet sister who let them teach her the gospel.  She's been taught and led and blessed.  She was also really excited to be out and put it all into practice.  She is humble enough to recognize her weaknesses, but she has confidence in the Lord and in herself and her testimony.  It's a marvelous adventure, and she is ready for it!
How did I get so blessed?

The Older They Get, The More I Love Them

Amy's post reminded me of several things:

1.  There are eternal days when you are the parent of small children.  These are the days people seem to forget.  These are the days when you are 100% convinced that when people say, "Don't blink," they are completely high.

2.  Having small children is incredibly physically demanding.  You must get them out of their beds, change their diapers, get them dressed (often multiple times each day), bathe them, carry them everywhere, carry a lot of stuff with you everywhere you go, feed them, lift them into and out of cars and various other places, get down on the floor to talk to them at their level, etc., etc.

3.  Sometimes being a parent doesn't seem like the decision was worth it.  Even when you know in the long run it is worth it, there are many times when it doesn't seem like it.

4.  Parents of small children miss the company of adults.  Adults don't head-bang you, throw up on you, poop their pants, pat-pat-pat you to get your attention, throw their food all over the place, or call you "Mama" 400 times (even when you have answered them 400 times).  Usually. 

5.  Having small children can be embarrassing to you.  They might poop all over you just when you are supposed to close the meeting.  They might call that very kind lady "Fat."  They might use a word they weren't supposed to hear you using.  They might sing really loud during the really quiet part of the movie or meeting.  They could burp or pass gas loudly at any moment.  They might pitch a fit in the middle of the store.

Sometimes these things are easy to forget, especially when you've reached a point with your children when they are completely capable of toileting, showering and dressing themselves, not only getting themselves into and out of a car but actually DRIVING themselves places, and holding a reasonable conversation that doesn't include tears or kicking or head-butting. 

Fortunately, life has a way of helping you remember mostly the good stuff:  the sound of a roomful of giggling children; the adorable handprint card they made for Mother's Day; the song they sang all by themselves or with their class; the stupid, funny jokes that made you laugh till your cheeks hurt; the times when you were exactly the person who could make the ouch go away; the moments when they reached for your hand or put their arm around you just because you were there; their testimonies shared, whether publicly or privately; the breakfast you got in bed; the day you woke up because your body was ready instead of waking to the sound of arguing; Christmases all about giving instead of receiving. 

Of course there are a million things that are forgettable.  But don't worry, there are also a million things to remember.

And in the meantime there are some of us who would welcome the chance to hang out for a few hours with naughty, screaming, laughing, adorable, lovely children.  Call if you need me.  Because it really did all go too, too fast.

And yes, I remember. 

Graduation and Promotion

Yesterday our second child graduated from high school.  I know that commencement ceremonies are dull, but I am not your normal person.  By the end of the exercises my cheeks were tired from all the smiling.  I looked around at that group of Jags and realized that there are over a dozen of them who I love enough to claim them as my own.  They are talented.  They are brilliant.  They are good.  They are extraordinary, ordinary people.  It is a blessing to know them, and I hope I get a tiny chance to have glimpses of them as they grow up.

When the meeting had concluded, Spencer turned to me and said, "Well, that's half of our children."  I did not shed tears till he said that.

I know I've said this a dozen times, but having our children grow up is a much harder thing than I expected it to be.  I am thrilled for them.  I am pleased with the choices they are making and people they are.  I love that Spencer and I get to look forward to time together in our later years. 

But it also gives me a little sock in the stomach when I consider that in 8 months or less our son will be on a mission.  In a year, #3 will be graduating from high school.  There is a piece of me that just can't get past the fact that a blink ago I was the #1 person in their lives; that I could tell them to be home at 6:00, and at 6:00 they were safely under my wings for the night; that I got to choose their clothes and their shoes and their hairstyles and their meals and their daily activities.

On the other hand, there was a lot of potential sitting in that room yesterday.  There were amazingly brilliant people.  There were frighteningly motivated people.  There were extremely giving people.  Sitting in blue and black robes were several hundred young people who in the next several decades really could change the world.  Their futures are as bright as their eyes.

But some of these young people will spend time in prison; while some will work hard to promote peace and justice.  Many will divorce, and many will marry wonderful people and raise beautiful families.  Some will be married by this time next year, possibly with babies of their own on the way.  Many will serve missions for the Church; some who we hope will serve will choose not to.  Some will be presidents of companies and directors of boards, their names "in lights" (figuratively or literally).  Others will quietly care for parents, siblings, spouses, and children with no fanfare and very little recognition.  Some will be taken by cancer; others will live till they've outlived everyone they knew before they were 20 years old.  Some will grow old and bitter; others will grow old with laugh-line-wrinkles.  Some will walk in the shadow of doubt; some will bask in the glow of faith.

And there before me is the really harsh truth:  I have no idea what is in store for our children.  Not only do I not choose their clothes or their meals or their jobs, I do not control the paths their lives take AT ALL.  I cannot control their choices or the choices of the people around them.

It's a sock in the stomach, I tell you!

And then I remember that it's not all about fear.  It is still about hope and promise and goodness.  I will revel in continuing to know and watch and celebrate our fabulous children.

And to my dying day, they will be my cherished babies.

Thoughts on an Empty Nest

Surprisingly, this time I am NOT talking about falcons!

I have never been afraid of being an empty-nester, because my best friend in the whole world is my husband. I figure as long as we have each other, it's OK to have our children grow up and face the world.

I want you to know that I LOVE BEING A MOM! It is the second best thing that has ever happened to me (can you guess the best thing?)! I not only love our children as their mother, but I really LIKE our children. They are talented, good people, and it is a blessing to get to associate with them daily. I have mentioned before that I was a pretty mean mom when they were little; but that has paid off because they are such good people now. I rarely have to be mean (though I'm still willing and very able when it's necessary).

When we were in the stage of having babies, it sure seemed like they came fast. Boom! We had one. Then boom! we had two. And so on. The same thing happened as they went to kindergarten. It was just one right after the other in quick succession. So I'm kinda figuring that having them graduate from high school is going to be like that.

Even though they all went really fast, they have also taken these steps in their own ways. Briana has been nervous for every new season she's entered. Taylor, on the other hand, went marching confidently through the doors. Ashtyn just flew along, as she always does, and Landon took the new world by storm.

So, as you might expect, Briana is a little bit hesitant about this adult world she's entering. She feels that she doesn't really fit in with the Young Women. But Relief Society doesn't quite fit, either. She likes her high school job a lot, but she also wants to find something that provides a bit better for her. She'd like to go to college, but she has to have the money to do that; but in order to get the better job, she has to go to college. This is not a new story, except for her.

And I find myself walking a line. There is something instinctive in me that knows that I'm going to have to do a certain amount of pushing for her to "leave the nest," so to speak. It's exciting and nerve-racking and wonderful. And there is something else in me that cries, "No! Let me keep my babies! They're too young! They're mine!"

Of course, a mother would never want to go to either extreme as she walks that line. I would never EVER want Briana to think or feel for an instant that I am trying to get rid of her--it simply isn't true! But it would be wrong for me to keep her under my wing when it really is her time to fly. And I know, as her mom, that it is going to take some amount of pushing to get her to go.

*sigh*

The funny part to me is that millions of parents have done this, and they and their children have survived. Briana--and each of the others in their turn--will be just fine. In fact, knowing our children, they will be WONDERFUL. Now if their mother can just survive (and I will!), everything will be good.

Life Can Turn On A Dime

Case-in-Point #1: I am home alone tonight. Spencer is at school, Bri is with a friend, and the other children went to YM/YW activities. Remember when I longed for just a few minutes to myself? I sure do. And now.... Here I am. Alone.

Case-in-Point #2: A 19-year-old young man in our ward, the oldest child of friends, was hit by a Trax train last night. He is in critical condition in a drug-induced coma due to head trauma. If he lives he will spend months in rehab re-learning to walk and talk and do every other little thing.

All in all, I think I will enjoy my quiet evening, and pray hard that everyone comes home safely.