Brain Dump

Brain dump...  Ready, set, go!

(Dad, did you notice it's a Caterpillar?)

So here are a few things I've been thinking about A LOT lately...in no particular order:  Parenting, work (the idea of work, not my job), trials and challenges, families, love in families, friends, humility, pride...  And the ultimate question:  Am I doing enough of what really matters?

Parenting:  Always a challenge for sure...  Some of my greatest challenges and greatest blessings come from being a parent.  Lately, I'm in an observing mode...observing me, observing them, observing them interacting with us as parents, observing the joy that comes to us as parents through those interactions.  Also, for some reason every time I look at Nate lately I remember those 2+ years when it was just him and me.  I remember how in love I was with his smile and dimples, and curls...and everything about him.  Now he's 15 and towers over me...and he's bald (long story).  His voice is deep and he is turning into his own person.  I'm not sure where I'm going with this, except that I've been thinking about it all lately...

• How fast it goes.
• How amazing they are as they grow.
• How it is sometimes difficult to watch them grow.
• How difficult it is to be a parent.
• How amazing it is to be a parent.
• How thankful I am to be able to share parenting with a guy who loves his kiddos so much he often cries when he talks about them.  

Work:  Again, it's not really my job I'm thinking of as much as the idea of work, and the importance of work in our lives.  I grew up on a farm.  Now I work at a job where I can set my own hours and come and go as I please.  I love the freedom it gives me with my family (which is also work...let's face it).  But I also think of how I use my freedom and my time, and I think about the farm, and all the work that doesn't stop, even if it's time to go home to your family, because the work doesn't stop until the job is finished.  I'm just trying to remember that and it makes me more conscientious of how I spend my time.  

• I  think we're meant to work.  
• I think we feel accomplished as human beings when we work.
• I think what we work at is also important.
• I think of God's directive to Adam and Eve that by the sweat of their brows they would eat...  I've sometimes thought of that as a curse of mortality, but I'm starting to wonder if it's one of God's greatest gifts to us because of the satisfaction He knew we'd feel if we worked.

Trials and Challenges:  Can we all just agree challenges are part of life?  Maybe challenges are a little like work...and we try to escape them if we can, but looking back, would we really give up the growth that comes from challenges?  Again, another area where the wisdom of God shines through.  As my kids play sports or work at homework assignments, I think of the comparisons of our lives to those tasks and efforts.  

• I hate challenges.
• I love the joy that I feel when God embraces me in challenges.
• I love the growth that comes from challenges.
• I'm thankful to have wonderful people to share challenges with...friends, family, even sometimes strangers...all fellow travelers on this mortal journey.
• I hurt when other people face challenges.  I hurt for them and with them.
• No matter how long I live, and much much I know challenges are a part of life, I'll always, always want to make it better.

Families and Love in Families:  I've already been musing blogging about this one before (see here).  But it's still on my mind.  I think we're always trying to build kindness in our home and family.  Who isn't?  It's always easy when we're thinking about it, but when we're under pressure, or don't have enough time, or feel emotionally spent, it's more difficult.  I'm noticing this more and more among our teen crowd as they grow older and more teen-agish.  One of my children was telling me the other day about something very compassionate they did for a peer who it seemed didn't have a lot of friends.  Not five minutes later, this same altruistic child was verbally tearing a sibling to shreds so we had another little chat.  I asked this child what the difference was between the compassion shown to a friend and lack of compassion to a sibling.  The honest answer:  Friends don't hurt you.  

• Yes, in families we sometimes get hurt...
• And mad...
• And resentful...
• Which makes families the perfect place for growth...
• And real love that comes from compassion that motivates us to forgiveness. 

Friends:  Mostly I wonder if I'm a good friend...  Really, really a good, true friend.  I'm working on that.

• Not just when I have time
• Not just when it's fun
• Not tomorrow.
• Today.

Humility and Pride:  I'm trying to remember that pride is selfishness, and that we can't grow when we think only of ourselves.  How many times a day do I have to check my pride?  Constantly.  

• I try to remember the humility of Jesus Christ in coming to earth as a mortal being to subject himself to death.  
• I'm learning that to love others because they love me is prideful, but to love others because I have compassion is humility.
• I'm not above anything, and when I think I am, I miss out on some of the really amazing acts of humanity around me all the time.

Told you it was a brain dump.  I'm sure everyone but me is bored, but I feel better!

How Not To Spend Your Saturday

Have you ever seen these signs in workplaces?

I'm starting to think I need such a sign for lost keys.  If there were such a sign for number of days I've gone without losing keys it would read:  

This scatterbrained mom has functioned for 10 days without losing her keys.  The previous record was 5 days.  

I also want to clarify that before that, my previous record was close to two years, and the last time I lost my keys (see here) was when they were dumped from a capsized boat while rafting.  And the time before that Megan and Jeran were in preschool.

Like I explained a few weeks ago (see here), I am not a naturally scatterbrained person, so losing my mind is very, very frustrating.  And today I broke my 10 day streak for not losing keys...also very frustrating!  

But the story is worth telling...not boring, for sure.

With Tim being out of town (again), I am fitting in some after-hours appointments on Saturdays instead of after school when I'm busy being taxi mom.  After an appointment today, I cleaned the office, emptied trashes and was leaving to go home.  I grabbed everything from my office--computer bag, phone, water bottle, trash bag...everything but my purse...and locked the door.  As soon as the door shut I went to grab my keys out of my purse to lock the outside of the building.

No purse!

I checked the door, just in case in all my scatter-brainedness I also didn't lock the door.  No such luck.  

Spare key...  I needed a spare key...  I have a spare key!  

...It was in my purse.

My office and the offices of two other therapists are in the lower level of a small-ish office building where the upstairs space is all one business.  We lease office space from them.  Why didn't I know before now where my spare key was in case I needed it?  I hadn't ever thought to ask.  I went upstairs to where I remembered seeing keys hang.  I tried the one I saw hanging there that I knew wasn't the mailbox key.  No go.  I looked around for more keys.  No luck.

Where could I get spare keys?  Tim...no, he's in Atlanta.  Keys...keys at home hanging on a hook that would drive my car.  Maybe I couldn't get in my office, but I could drive my car.  I called Jeran.  My office is a 2 minute car drive from home.  Jeran could ride his bike to my office with the keys.  I wouldn't be asking much.  It's all downhill...

As he was getting ready to bring me keys, I went around back to try to break in my office window.  I knew the alarm was off.  What could it hurt?  (Just my knee...that's all.)  It didn't take long to realize I couldn't break in the window without damaging the screen.  It also didn't take long to start picturing what my weekend would be like without a purse... I thought of the grocery shopping, and all the driving around I'd have to do without a license, not to mention the fact that I couldn't even lock the building without the outside key.  Out of desperation, I called another one of the therapists who leases the office space next to mine to see if she had the building owner's number so they could tell me where to find keys.  Again, no luck.

I needed a locksmith.  I googled locksmiths on my phone and the first one on the list promised 15 minute or less service time.  I dialed the number.  They took my information, gave me a quote (yikes!) and promised prompt service.  I quickly called Jeran to tell him never mind...

And I got comfortable, pulled out my computer (computer bag wasn't locked in the office) and started to work on entering insurance payments and notes.  

Thirty minutes later...  They'd be here any minute.  I'd just wait.

Forty-five minutes after the initial call...  I called to find out how long they'd be.  "I'll call the technician to see where he's at," a lady told me.

I called back and forth to the kids about jobs and homework.  It's called tele-parenting.

An hour had passed since I first made the call.  Should I call again?  They said they'd call back...

I waited a few minutes then called again.  "He got called on an emergency.  A child was locked in a car," the lady told me.  I smelled a lie, but I didn't say so.  If it was an emergency with a child locked in a car, why didn't they call the police or fire department?  They're free (technically).  But I was nice and just wanted to know how much longer...  "He'll call you shortly," she promised.

I was bored with paperwork so I cleaned the bathroom.

Then I swept the outside stairs and got a crazy idea that I could use a piece of cardboard from a box in the storage room to unlock my office...kind of like the credit card trick without the credit card.  No luck.

Finally (almost 2 hours now from the time of the initial call for a locksmith), I received a call from a technician.  He'd be another 30 or 40 minutes.  I reminded him of his 15 minute guarantee.  "Saturdays are busy," he said.  Apparently we all lose our brains on Saturday.  Still, I wanted to go home, and while I'd been waiting for his call I'd been googling other locksmiths, and told him I'd try my luck with someone else.

Call number three was a score!  They'd be there in 20 minutes, and quoted me less than the first guy.  Whew!  Finally!

But of course 20 minutes turned into 30...but they were cheaper.  Then 30 minutes turned into 40...

Then 2 hours and 57 minutes after my very first phone call to a locksmith, a locksmith finally arrived.  I was so relieved...

"One hundred twenty-nine dollars," he said in an accent I thought for sure I'd misunderstood.  I explained to him that I had been quoted $49.95 on the phone.  He invited me to call his boss (who had given me the quote.  I did.  He told me they don't guarantee prices until they see the type of lock and apparently breaking into my really tricky lock would cost $129.00.  

I didn't have a choice.  Wanting to be free of the entire experience, I told him to go ahead.  I watched while he started picking, then I heard a sound from upstairs...

People who might have keys!  

"Stop!"  I told the locksmith.  "Don't open it!"  At this point I'd gladly pay his service call fee if I didn't have to pay for him to unlock the door.

I flew up the stairs.  Keys!  I was about to get keys!  I'm not sure I even spoke in coherent sentences at that point but the office manager seemed to understand, and on the other side (inside) of the cubicle where I had seen the keys hanging was more keys...lots of keys...and from the pile of keys on the hook she pulled one very shiny gold key with my name carefully marked on the outside.  

I ran back downstairs and sure enough, it opened my office.  I paid the technician his service call fee (good riddance to locksmiths!) and thanked the office manager profusely for saving me over $100.00 and we got a good laugh over the fact that I'd sat in an empty office for 3 hours waiting for a locksmith when the key was right there on a hook.

So I'm predicting that tomorrow will be day one of my new key-accident free days.  And tomorrow will be followed by years and years of key-accident free days...  Stay tuned.

Do As I Say, Not As I Do...

Guess who was Star Student this week?  

(Hint:  Her name starts with a "G" and ends with "abby".)

And I'm proud to report that with the exception of one brief brain lapse (see more about recent brain lapses here), I didn't forget anything all week.  (Never mind that the brain lapse happened the first day of the week...nothing an email reminder from her teacher couldn't repair.)  

But aside from that one brain lapse, the Start Student made it to school every day with requisite posters, show-and-tell items, and family members in tact on the appropriate days at the appropriate times.  

Friday (today) was the day for class treats.  From the beginning of the year, as a dedicated member of the PTA board (when I remember to show up to meetings), I've completely championed the idea of the new Healthy Kids campaign in our elementary school.  I even incorporated Healthy Kids into Red Ribbon Week to get it out there in front of parents, and to spread the word.  Then as rewards for the winners in our Red Ribbon Week contest, we involved the winning classes in a fun physical activity rather than a donut party.  I was gung-ho Healthy Kids all the way!

So when it was time for Gabby to take a classroom treat as Star Student, I decided to join the ranks of the dedicated parents who have chosen to substitute sugary snacks with a game or fun prizes rather than send students home from school all sugared up.

Best of intentions...

Enter the wild card...Gabby!  (Can't believe I just called my own daughter a wild card, but for those who know Gabby, it fits.)

We talked all week about possible fun prizes or fun activities with her class, but even after all my best efforts, Gabby just couldn't be swayed.  I was facing a life-sized parent dilemma:  Do I:  

a) let the Star Student be the Star Student and choose her own class treat?

b) use parent veto power and override the Star Student's main request for the week?

Also tugging at my heart was the idea of a girl who was star for a week, and got to call all the shots, who has missed out on the opportunity to be the star in her own life so many times before...times when adults didn't even protect her, let alone care about her choice of class treat on Star Student week.  What would a little sugar hurt?

I'm also a little embarrassed to add that my ego was playing a role in this decision.  The oldest daughter of the mom in charge of Healthy Kids is in Gabby's class.  There was a part of me that, in spite of my daughter being Star Student, wanted to push her to make a healthy choice just to save face.  (Yes, next I'll be starring in my own version of Desperate Housewives.)

The mom who values my child's independent spirit and new-found ability to learn to direct her own life won out.  Gabby and I walked through the front doors of the school this morning loaded down with bags of cookies and sugary drinks, all designated for consumption by one very excited 4th grade class...right past the principal...right past the front office...  I felt like I was smuggling contraband into the school.

I think my ego was showing again when I nervously tried explaining to Gabby's teacher why I was bringing sugar instead of a fun prize for the class...  I'm sure she doesn't care, but I felt the need to explain myself anyway.  When the words, "Gabby's choice" escaped my lips, I knew I didn't have to explain.  Her body language told me she knew the same independent minded girl I knew.  

Go Gabby!

Long Overdue Visit

We aren't as good about visiting Joie's family's graves as we used to be.  Partly because we used to go a lot for Joie, but she doesn't feel the need anymore.  Her dad's birthday passed this year without going.  Her baby sister's birthday passed without going.  As Christmas approached, we thought we'd go, but she kept saying she didn't need to, and wasn't really interested.  Tim and I talked about just taking her, but wanted to  respect where she was at.

This week we started talking about going again.  Tim said, "Let's just go."   We both wanted to, and realizing that as Joie disappears into the "me-ness" of her teen brain for the next several years, the habits of remembering and connecting can't be set aside.

So today I told her dad and I were going to the graves after church and asked if she wanted to come.  "That depends," she said.  "Can we make cookies?"  I've said before that I'm not sure where this habit of leaving treats and gifts for her family came from, but it lives on...

Out of curiosity I asked Joie, "Would you still go if we didn't make cookies?"  


"Hmmmm...maybe," she said, "But I want to make cookies."


So late this afternoon, Tim and I, along with Joie and a plate of three cookies for Mom, Dad, and Audrey, made the trip to Cedar Fort to the graves.

Some trips out there are emotional for me, and some aren't.  Today was an emotional day, which caught me completely off guard because I wasn't expecting it.  As we started driving, and turned off the exit toward Cedar Fort, I was suddenly back there 5 years, going to visit my sister, and wanted so much right then just to drive to her house and talk...and talk and talk and talk and never say good-bye.

Then right there in the middle of my emotions, Tim decided to go all dad-of-the-year on me, and said, "I remember the first time I met your mom..." and started telling Joie about his first memory of Ruth sitting on a couch in my parents' house going over a drama monologue with my brother Joe, and listening to them talk about their drama competition.

As we drove to Cedar Fort, I was an emotional fly on the wall in their conversation about memories.  At the graves, I walked around to the back of the headstones to read the familiar inscription:  "...Therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ."  (Mosiah 16:8)  Then beneath the inscription, the words:

Our girls:  

Diana Jo

Audrey Esther

And I knew once again, like I'd known so many times before that this little family would be together again.  These graves would not be the end.

On the way home we stopped at the familiar Cedar Fort store for a bottle of Cream Soda, Joie's tradition with her dad that has also somehow carried over...

And Joie asked questions about tires and what makes them pop...hard questions to answer.

Then, just when I thought I was safe from tears, Tim says to Joie, "I want you to know I love you, Joie."

(Little pause...then I could hear in his voice that he was crying too.)

"I know you've had a lot of hard challenges, but you're coming through like shining stars," he said.

As he said it, I'm not sure why, but my mind went right to what it must feel like in that moment to be Joie, hearing those words, that she was loved and that her other dad was proud of her.  I'm pretty sure she must have been beaming on the inside.  

What an honor it is to be her parents, and to share her life.  As difficult as the journey sometimes is, who can't help but love being connected to a beautiful life.  It's one of those joyful parenting days, for sure.

Sunlight!

Those of us who live in northern climates know how long winters can get.  Even mild winters like this one (at least here in Utah) can get dark and hazy.  It seems like no matter how bitterly cold days can get, sunshine always feels sooooooo good!

And it's good for you...something I tell the kids all the time.  I tell them to watch the dogs, who instinctively know what is good for them.  Our house is south facing, and in the winter months, the dogs will find a patch of sunlight in the living room, or in the yard, and just lay there.

Today Gabby is sick with the cold that has seemed to plague our family for weeks now.  (Why is it everyone can't just get sick at once?)  She keeps asking me how to feel better and is faithfully drinking honey lemon water and finding healthy food to eat so she can get over her cold.

After everyone else had gone to church, I was cleaning up a little in the kitchen and walked in the living room to find Gabby stretched out on the couch.  The dogs were stretched out in their own patch of sunshine on the floor.  Thinking she might be bored, I asked what she was doing, and almost before I could get the question out she said, "I'm laying in the sunshine with the dogs."  

I love this girl!

Have you had your Vitamin D today?

Losing My Mind

I hope it's ok to discuss women issues on here.  I'll keep it G-rated, I promise.

I had a hysterectomy at the young age 31.  The subsequent hormonal changes (my boys would disagree that those words are G-rated) were a nightmare, but with the guidance of a great doctor, I was able to get through it all without going on HRT (hormone replacement therapy) and I got on with my new normal, which wasn't really that different than pre-hysterectomy (another word my boys think is not G-rated).

The worst symptoms back then were headaches and memory loss.  I felt like I was in a fog, and would lose keys, lock myself out of the house, forget appointments...  I really, really dislike brain fog.

So a while ago when I started having headaches again, I knew exactly what was happening, and I knew exactly what to do.  I started taking the right supplements, creams, etc. and felt like this would all go away, just like it did when I was 30.  The headaches went away.  The memory loss is still plaguing me.

Last week I left the keys in the ignition of the car that was parked in the driveway, unlocked, all night long.  And Tim was out of town at the time.  Disturbing!  Then this week I locked the keys in the car.  Tim had to come home from work to unlock the car for me. 

I was saying this to a nice older-than-me lady today and she said, "Oh, it just gets worse.  Get Triple A...It will pay for itself."

In the past month I've misplaced my phone more times than I can count.  I forget what I'm saying when I'm saying it.  I've forgotten when I have carpool.  I've confused children about who is picking them up and when because I'm confused myself.  I've also almost forgotten to pick children up from practices (thankfully I have other children to remind me).  Triple A might be able to help with keys, but I'm pretty sure their coverage doesn't include reminding me to pick up my children.

And I'm really not one of those people who wants to just give up and say "Oh well...  This is just menopause."  (Sorry kids...that word really is G-rated.  I'm pretty sure it's in your health book too.)

So this afternoon I've armed myself with new vitamins and supplements with acclaimed brain boosting powers.  I'm hyper-focused on nutrients and in my spare time (ha, ha) you might find me doing brain boosting puzzles and exercises.  Menopause, you will not win the brain battle.

(Meanwhile, I'm losing my mind, so if you find it, please return it to me.)

New Year's "Revolutions"

Gabby keeps telling me all about her "New Year's Revolutions."

So far she has a pretty decent list.  She isn't watching as much TV, and she wants to be a friend to everyone.  She told me she accomplishes the latter by just not talking very much to people she doesn't really like.  So if Gabby hasn't talked to you in a while...

Today we decided on another New Year's Revolution...

Cut down on the screen time! 

Christmas brought a total of 5 new portable, hand held screens to our family.  Did you know a 10 year old or a 12 year old can nearly max out the memory of an 8 GB iPod Touch with downloads in less than a month?

I told myself after Christmas break, we'd get back to our screen time limits (usually an hour or less a day of screen time).  Then Tim went out of town again, and I told myself I'd start when he got home...

Then sadly, yesterday the entire family spent Sunday afternoon in the family room "connecting" via WiFi.  It was a little humorous, but this morning Tim woke up with the idea that he'd buy a safe to lock up iPods during family time...

Which we haven't done, but we are initiating earning internet and screen time again, and limiting screen time.

And tonight when I said to take care of electronic devices, I heard one child tell another child, "She's serious.  Do you want Dad to buy a safe?"

Here We Go...

Nate has been wrestling this year.  Ok moms--help me out.  Anyone out there love to see their kid go mano a mano with anyone?  Me either.  Not even in organized sports.

But the understanding of how athletics can grow great kids has me suppressing the mommy instinct to keep my kiddos under the safety of my own roof, and allow them opportunities to grow as people.

Nate wrestles for a small school, which means they have to frequently travel great distances for matches...which also means I don't get to go offer my support.  (To say I want to go watch would be a lie...it's that maternal instinct kicking in again.)

A few months ago, there was a meet a little closer to home.  The distance was manageable, and I could see myself going.  (Again, that would be for support...not to watch.)

But as I started talking to Nate about going he stopped me abruptly.  He said, "No, mom.  Don't go."  I was kind of surprised.  (After all, what kid doesn't want their parents to cheer from the sidelines?)

Of course I asked why.

"You're not ready," he said.

"Ready for what?"  I asked (imagining some kind of mommy boot camp to prepare before witnessing the brutal sport of wrestling).

"Well, most moms don't like wrestling," he said.  "They don't like to see their kids get beat up."  (Does he know me, or what?)

...So before you go thinking that's just another mommy moment story, I'll jump right in and say it isn't.  It's a metaphor that fits my personality.

I don't like pain...mine or anyone else's.  Any wonder my choice of a healing profession?

And, as with wrestling, I'll give all my support, but sometimes I think I just can't watch.  When there's any red flag in my life that indicates there might be a problem coming, I sometimes feel like that annoying kid with their eyes squeezed shut and hands over their ears singing, "La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la....I can't hear you!"  (So mature.  I know.)

But usually after a while I stop screaming, and open my eyes, and take a peek, and figure out that the only way around is through...and I start to realize that the only pain you can't endure is the pain you can't to take to God.

I can't be more specific than that.  Sorry.  Just can't.  Like I said, I was the observer in this pain, so it isn't mine to share.  But I can say that families seem to be the perfect laboratory for learning...

And for forgiving, repenting, growing, and healing.

And at the end of the day I love my imperfect laboratory, and wouldn't trade it for any sterile, white, perfect laboratory in the world.

Never, ever.

Because I love what we become when we grow together as mortal beings engaged in this portion of our eternal experience.

And when I need a reminder, I look at this:

And this:

And when I look closely, I see a family that has formed and grown out of love, and a family that experiences joy...

And also experiences pain and imperfection...

And has grown together through roads that often feel like the end...

But are really new beginnings.

And when I look at it that way, I'd have to say that we're not very much unlike most other families we know.  

It's a beautiful (and sometimes really bumpy) ride.

Welcome to 2012

I just checked my work schedule for tomorrow morning and I am scheduled to see a client at 8:00 a.m.  After a looooonnnnnng holiday break with very few appointments, this is how I'm feeling about tomorrow morning...

(The feeling of jumping into ice cold water)

Come to think about it, that's kind of how I'm feeling about 2012...a little apprehensive, a little uncertain...

But 2012 is here.  

And I'm jumping...

Ready or not...

(Note to self:  You are not the penguin standing up on the iceberg.)

And tomorrow morning I'll show up on time, with a fully functioning brain, and a smile on my face...because anything less is so not 2012.

One...two...three...  JUMP!