Snapshots

"Let me not die while I am still alive." 

I read this Facebook post this week and cried. A beautiful piece on grief. Check it out if you haven't already.

First week without preschool and my head is already spinning. God bless preschool teachers everywhere who manage to captivate multiple little ones without losing their minds. I am working on patience, creativity, and endurance. Playing parking garage over and over again is not my idea of fun. My desire to be a "good" mother is so strong and so often I feel like I fall so short from my goal. At the end of the day I feel like I was too selfish, too mean, too absent. I want to be involved without being overbearing, kind without being too lenient, present but still maintain time for myself. Constantly trying to find balance, working out the kinks, and trying to remember to pray for His help. 

Small joys this week:

So many raspberries. 

Laundry means t-shirt attacks. Waiting to strike.

Morning Noises

Sometimes, in the morning, Max will wake up and instead of being up and ready for the day he will request to snuggle me in our bed for a little longer. As I lay there with him I can hear Daniel in the dining room babbling as he explores. Kyle is at the table, studying scriptures. Occasionally I will hear him get up to help baby who inevitably traps himself under or behind a chair.

I don't want to get out of bed partially because I stayed up too late but mostly because for a moment my life seems peaceful.



This is a direct contrast with the rest of my day. Battling with a tiny attorney for more snacks, less quiet time, and the ability to ride his bike whenever requested. In addition to that, baby seems to always want to nurse right when all of these requests are made. None of these things are bad, but they tend to dominate and swallow every moment.

My life is noisy. The crying, whining, and a constant "mom...Mom...MOM!" drown out my ability to think. It blinds me of my ability to appreciate that this is the sound of life of happening. This is the sound of children learning their way.

So in the morning, I take a moment. I close my eyes and listen; for baby noises, for Max's gentle breathing, the distant clatter of dishes in a sink. This moment gives me the chance to appreciate and express gratitude for my life. 

For a home. For a bed. For food. For work. For health. For love that fills it all.

Snapshots

This week was Max's last week of preschool. He actually participated in the tiny graduation ceremony which I was shocked by (usually he is extremely adverse toward anything with too many people staring at him). He had an amazing first teacher, we are so grateful for that. Daniel is happy, smiley, and very curious. The main thing that makes him cry is when brother makes screeching/screaming noises at him. This happens frequently because what brother doesn't love a good reaction?

Very excited for this weekend! I am taking a Moms with Cameras photography class given by my awesomely talented friend Hannah. Since it is in Seattle, I am managing to squeeze in some time with a few friends and family. Winning all around!

We are a car family. So many cars. Everywhere. Always.

Tickles from Dad.

Climbing

Growing up my mom was always climbing. I remember sitting in my bedroom looking out the window waiting for her return. She was always so excited to go and returned smiling and happy.

It wasn't until I was older that I ventured out with her to climb the rocks she used for rejuvenation. I remember my first climb, grappling with the slippery rocks, my hands sweating with adrenaline. 

I supposed that climbing was much scarier than it was, but in reality was a thrill. I like describing it as a physical puzzle, your mind focuses on finding the right foot and hand holds to keep you going up and up and up. Finger strength becomes something you never even knew you wanted. There is strategy to climbing. Figuring out how to use your body to your advantage. Being taller doesn't always help, being smaller doesn't either. You take what you are, make it a strength, and climb just as high. 

My mom was unable to take us as children, but I am grateful that she encourages me to bring my little ones along. I never got to see her strength as a climber when I was younger, but I see it now. I see how strong she is and how capable on these rocks. I see how she shares the joy she has found, her enthusiasm spreading like wildfire. I am grateful for her help in holding babies and entertaining toddlers with fruit snacks so that I have the chance to grapple with the earth. 

Being given the space to find my footing and lift myself is a gift. To have the opportunity for my children to witness it is even more precious. 

I want them to see me work at it. I want them to see me searching, seeking for a strong hold. I want them to see me fall and be caught by hands that I trust. I want them to see me hanging there, letting my arms rest for a moment, then trying again. I want them to see me succeeding, reaching the top. 

I want them to see me smiling at the success and returning to that which brings me joy.

I want to see them finding the thrill for themselves.

 

Snapshots

It has been a good week. I am working on creating a better morning routine so that I don't feel like a slug waking up, it has been slow going but I think exercising first thing is the solution. I just need to keep convincing myself of that. This week Max got to visit a dairy farm for a preschool field trip. He requested that I not come....to cool for Mom already. Daniel has become obsessed with our carbon monoxide detector which is in the hallway at crawling height. Like a moth to a flame he pushed the button and then cries big alligator tears at the mean noise.

Excited for this weekend, going on a date tonight and then enjoying our community's Spring Fest going on this weekend (for all this town lacks it has A LOT of small town charm to make up for it). Excited to enjoy some free entertainment, good food, and of course beautiful sunshine!

This baby and these dogs. Baloo on the left, Jasper on the right. Precious Daniel playing with both of their tails in the middle.

Already wrestling. Loving it so far.

Marching

There is the tendency to wallow, to stop and halt within grief. It feels impossible to move forward, unfair even. Life is catapulted towards an entirely different path than the one envisioned.

What was the point of moving forward? Something terrible occurred and I was powerless to stop or change it. In protest I imagined that doing nothing would show God how mad I was.

You want to ruin my life? Fine. I will waste what is left of it then.

I felt like a small child, logic and reason ceasing to make sense.

The more I held on to my tantrum however, the more out-of-control I felt. There were moments when my senses seemed beyond feeling, I was outside of my body in some dark corner. Light could touch me but I could not feel it. This need to blame God for all of my sorrow was turning into pain that multiplied.

I could not sit in the darkness and be bitter any longer. I focused upon that light and felt it once again. Felt the warmth and comfort it provided. I am speaking both of the Savior as the light of this world and of physical light. I remember sitting in my apartment at the time on the couch and just concentrating on the light hitting me. Nothing else seemed important in that moment other than letting my body feel warm.

 



It felt like a painstakingly slow process but eventually I figured out what keeps me away from that dark space. Prayer, studying the scriptures for perspective, time with family and friends, writing, and service were all key players. It was a choice to do something rather than nothing.

The light and warmth of the sun and of the Son have given me hope and purpose. The sun reminded me that something as simple as feeling the sun shine on your face has the power to brighten the spirit and my Savior has healed the rest.

He has helped me to live onward, trying my best to do good, to scatter sunshine! So on Saturday for the second year, I marched. I marched forward in memory of James. I marched forward thinking of this tiny life that has had immense impact not only in my life but in the lives of those around me. It has been a good thing. It is like sunshine warming my face.



Thank you to those who marched with me on Saturday for the March of Dimes. Your donations, physical presence, and texts of support brought me gratitude and joy. Thank you.

*Fist Bumps*

Snapshots

I don't know about you but this week was funky. I felt like parts of it were super successful and other parts total failures. Finding balance is finicky. You start putting more time and effort into one area and you end up neglecting another. But all in all, I feel happy with my efforts. If I really think about it, it is SO easy to focus on the hard parts of my week. The yelling and screaming, Daniel's constant need to be held (not SO awful but he weighs A LOT and sometimes I need space), the messes that multiply and spread and feel overwhelming.

They are all there, but if I really think about it, there were some super special moments as well. When working out with some friends at Church, I had asked Max to watch over Daniel as he crawled around the gym. He was so sweet and protective, just sat next to him mostly the whole time and brought him toys and even put Daniel's pacifier in my purse so it wouldn't get dirty! Or when I pick up Daniel he just gives the clingiest koala hug and rests his cheek against your own and laughs at your breath hitting his ear. It is the BEST.

Little crossed ankles and scrunched up toes. My babies always have super pudgy feet.

"Hey Mom! Look! I am happy-mad!"

I hope you all have a great weekend and remember it's not too late to donate to our March of Dimes team. We are walking tomorrow! A sincere thanks to all who have donated, it means a great deal to me to know that I am surrounded by such wonderful souls.

March of Dimes: The James Effect