Spring Fling

Favorite Song

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4m2R6CLkvyQ

Five For Fighting

I'm Trying

I encourage my boys to talk to me about anything. And when they do, I strive to remain calm and non-judgmental—simply listen and help them feel understood. I realized tonight that with all the distractions of this age, I'm not the perfect listener, but I am trying.

When my boys are with me, I make a point to cook dinner so we can sit down together at the table for conversation and fun. In the hustle and bustle of hockey season, sometimes a quick meal is necessary and a family dinner doesn’t always happen, but I'm trying. 

My daily goal is to laugh with my boys, and let go of the things that tend to cause frustration and discouragement. It's easy with Max and his friends in the "Mahalo" to cherish the simple moments and keep what is important in perspective. Due to the stress of school, work, and parenting, sometimes I don't cherish the moments that matter, but I'm trying.

Although I realized there are days I fall short on being the mom I strive to be, I hear a loving voice telling me not to give up. This same voice reminds me that there is one area where I usually get it right:

I never fail to express love to my boys. I usually try to tuck my boys in bed. And I never fail to say the words, “I love you”—sometimes even whispering the words as I kiss their foreheads after they’ve gone to sleep.

Because at the end of the day, I know it’s all about the love … love that is accessible, warm, open, continuous—like the love my mom and dad gave me that I am now passing on to my boys.

"How did I get so lucky?!"

My sister Lara married her sweetheart on the twenty-first day of February. 

In her text with this photo she said, "How did I get so lucky?!"

She must have done something right, the mother of a twenty-year-old missionary, Tanner, who told me after having delivered his farewell address, that his mom was always there for him.

 

Although her daughter, Sierra, has never drifted a bit even during her teen years, she is thoughtful and caring enough to buy the engagement ring Todd used to propose (since the one he ordered wasn't ready on the day that he had arranged for the missionaries to film the proposal on Temple Square) and she genuinely enjoys spending time with her mom and Todd.

The way her eyes light up when she talks about the renewed relationship with her mother. She seems relieved about how things have turned out.

“I must have done something right,” Lara could be saying to her self. Instead she is counting her lucky stars.

Her oldest son is twenty seven. My oldest son is eighteen. I don’t want to wait nine years to know whether or not I’ve done something right. Because now is when I need to hear it.

Now—when I am in smack dab in the middle of raising my boys.

Now—when I feel the pressure to examine every choice I make, wondering how these choices will affect them now and in the future.

Now—when I want to trust my gut and live by heart rather than simply go along with mainstream opinion or “expert” advice.

Now—when I need little glimmers of hope to cling to each day.

So I have decided not to wait.

Each day for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been looking for a little rightness—a little what-is-right-in-my-world.

Notice I say “a little.” Because what I am talking about is practically unnoticeable. It’s hardly note-worthy. And it’s definitely not anything worthy of public sharing—at least not according to blog standards. But that’s why it’s working for me. That’s why it’s encouraging to me. Because looking for what is right in my world – in my day – in my hour – is far more encouraging than looking for what is “right” in my world according to popular opinion.

I invite you to take a look. Maybe this list will inspire you to see what is right in your world today.

Right in my World

I took him to the “free” pancake day even though I knew nothing is truly free.
I took him to try on sweatshirts. Lots of sweatshirts.
I took a deep breath when I felt like I might explode.
He took my hand as we walked across the parking lot and left it there a good long while.

I’m doing something right.

I gave him a leg rub when the couch was calling my name.
I gave him a second chance and he used it for good.
I gave him some help cleaning up that disaster of a room.
He gave me a happy-to-see-you-smile when I came to pick him up.

Lara was doing something right.

{Corona Del Mar}

You Only Live Once

Into each day we're blessed with so many things, it's true

we need to count our blessings

In all we say and do.

So this little teaspoon can be used 

But is a keepsake you can treasure, 

For a dash or spoon or heap of all

Will bring joy and love 

Beyond measure. 

 

{Into each day...a dash of kisses}

 

My mom came all the way down from Heber today, just to take me to lunch at Mimi's Café. I love that she takes the time to notice when I have been having a hard time. She gave me a little care package with this spoon in it and some peaches. She knows that you only live once...so you need to take the time to stop and notice the people you care about in life. Even if it is just a smile or a wave, it can make all the difference in the world.

 

Y.O.L.O.

Live For Now

In honor of Markus turning eleven years old today - here are 11 things I really love and admire about him. 

I love how much you love to explore this beautiful world...

I love how you're not too cool to still go sledding with me, even when your friends are around...

I love how you include your friends' little brothers when you're playing with them...

I love how you dive head first into everything you do...

I love your smile and the sweetness that goes with it...

I love how you watch out for others...

I love listening to the conversations you have with your teammates...

I love that you can take the puck coast to coast. And also that you DON'T unless your coach tells you to...

I love that you gave me a rose for Valentine's day...

I love how cute you look in hats, especially moose hats...

I love seeing your eyes light up seeing all the Legos in the toy store...

Markus - 

I love you! Thanks for being my son for eleven awesome years. I hope this one is your best year yet. 

Mom

Star Valley ❤️

When I drove down the road into Star Valley, Markus said, "This looks just like Sun Valley." I had to agree. What. A. Beautiful. Place.  

Communication

"The most important thing in communication is to hear what isn't being said."

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XjwZAa2EjKA

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”  –e. e. cummings

It's almost spring

And that means baseball will be back. Two different emails today told me so, one for Liberty League and one for Babe Ruth. Hockey is winding down with the last JV hockey game tonight vs. Park City. I love watching Max play. Children add joy, purpose, and meaning to our lives. They provide optimism, hope, and love. They bring smiles, laughter, and energy into our homes. They also add clutter. As parents, balancing life and managing clutter may appear impossible—or at the very least, never-ending. But what if there was a better way to live? 

I see my boys seeking real life moments and real life connections because they want it for themselves, not because I said so. But I had to let go first. 

 

What If There Is No Tomorrow?

There wasn't one today. 

Do you remember that line from Bill Murray's character, Phil, in the movie Groundhog's Day? And, how in it, Phil becomes the good guy who performs selfless acts of kindness, not manipulatively, but for their own sake. This, naturally, wins him the love of the whole town, and, of Rita. And not surprisingly, he comes to love himself. “No matter what happens tomorrow, or for the rest of my life,” Phil tells Rita, “I’m happy now because I love you.”

I am happy to look my children in the eyes and step into their world.

And to remember what my heart loves to do and then stop making excuses.

To close my eyes in gratitude and open my eyes wide in wonder.

I am happy when I have face-to-face, soul-to-soul connection with the ones who share my life.

I am happy to

read a book.

Play in the snow.

Say, “Take your time,” and mean it.

I promise to

Give a good kiss.

Leave a surprise note.

Do absolutely nothing every now and then.

And to

Rest

Laugh

Play

Wait

Dream

And breathe.

And breathe.

So I can truly live.

It’s been real. My journey has not been perfect. Sometimes I stumble, but I get back up by reminding myself that my to-do list doesn’t contain the most important tasks of the day. It is my heart that tells me what I need to survive and thrive—as long as I stop long enough to listen.

I have the power to save a life and so do you.

Markus + Snow = Love

Markus told me on the way out to the car after skating tonight that he loves the snow. He then nailed me with two snowballs and caught a snowflake on his tongue. :) 

Over 100 of his snowballs

http://youtu.be/zRCsZ5a3aCM

Live In The Moment

Love is when someone asks
for a starburst and you
give them a red or pink one

 

Two Sides of Enough

Sometimes I find myself sitting behind the wheel of the car thinking enough with the hockey. Enough with the chauffeuring, the gas-guzzling, the game-to-game. Enough with the broken windshield where a nice new one used to be. Sometimes I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror thinking enough with the wrinkles, the puffiness, and the sleep-deprived eyes. Enough with the loose skin and the unstoppable gray hairs. Enough with the laugh lines that look anything but happy.

Sometimes I find myself standing in front of an empty refrigerator thinking, enough with the meal prep: morning, noon, and night. Enough with the burn from bacon grease when making breakfast and packing lunches at the same time. Sometimes I find myself gazing at photos of tropical beaches and secluded getaways thinking... Enough with the perpetual ticking clock, enough with the steady stream of demands, the dust bunnies, and homework. Enough with the needs of others that never seem to be satisfied. But then something happens to pull me out of my negative abyss and set my head on straight.

Sometimes when I say, “Enough,” I forget that enough has two sides. My life’s little joys – like nightly hugs, sweet faces, and looking into the eyes of the ones you love – are the soft side of enough. They are the cool side of the pillow on a sleepless night. In one turn, these little blessings soothe away the bad, the draining, and the ugliness of my life.

These small little things are enough—enough to get me back up to do it all again tomorrow.

And although sometimes I find myself thinking, “I am done with today,” when it comes right down to it, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I open my arms and hold him for a moment. And like an overextended inner tube stretched beyond capacity, my son is the key to releasing all that is pent up. I feel the pressure slowly seep from my body as my shoulders begin to relax.

“I’m glad that you are my mom.”

Essence of Life

Working in the Neurological Rehabiliation Unit (Neuro-Rehab) is an experience that can’t quite be put into words. It’s fast-paced, intense, and the stress of some situations can even occasionally make my own heart rate go up as high as one of our traumatic brain injury patients.

Some people love me. I was just given a certificate for one year of service. A week later I started my second semester of nursing school. I can promise you that you do not want to be a patient in my unit. If you are then that means you’re really sick. But I can also promise you that if you end up here you will get stellar care by a team of the best health care providers available.

Often times I may act a little wacky though. I may seem rude at times. Maybe my patients catch me acting totally inappropriate for the situation at hand. Maybe they've even thought, “how can you act that way with all this going on with my family member?”

Well, I have my reasons. Following is a letter to the families of Rehab patients everywhere.

Dear Disenchanted Family Member of My Rehab Patient,

So you walked in to me singing a song out loud as I hung that tube feeding, huh? You were a little bewildered, and thought, “Is that from the Sound of Music? Why is she so inappropriately jolly considering my dad has a tube down his nose?!”

First off, it is the Sound of Music. After all, these are a few of my favorite things.

I’m not singing for my own satisfaction. What you don’t realize is I’m singing to calm my nerves, to keep myself relaxed. Your dad almost died before he came here. I’m concerned for him, but I don’t want you to see that on my face. I don’t want you to worry about him. That’s my job. I just want you to love him.

I know you just heard us laughing and cracking a joke in the hall. I get it. You don’t see anything funny with your mom being paralyzed in that bed, attached to all those monitors.

I understand. I do. I hope you can understand that while you were home sleeping unaware I watched the young mother next door go home on hospice. She couldn’t fight the cancer anymore. Now she can die at home peacefully with her family. At 34 she didn’t think she'd run out of time…doctors tried. I begged God, but she went anyway. I heard her son say, "But Mommy who's going to cook dinner for me every night?" and she let him cry in her hair for twenty minutes.

There also was a code blue. My coworkers restarted the heart of the man across the hall. They did CPR on him so many times, and actually broke his ribs. Just when they were afraid it wouldn’t restart, it did.

Some times I have to laugh. It’s the only thing I can do. I know when I cry, it's so hard to be able to stop.

I’m really sorry if I seemed short with you when you came in to visit. I know you thought I was being rude, and I know that once outside again you complained about me, saying “she must have wanted a break instead of taking time to talk to me!”

No. I won’t get a break today. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was focused on the change I just noticed on your dad’s pulse ox. I was wondering what I would try when I have my license, when his blood pressure plummets again. You see, the RN is giving the maximum amount of all those drugs you see hanging. I know you’re not ready to say goodbye. I’m not ready to give up. That distracts me sometimes and makes me a less than perfect conversationalist.

I want you to know that when I see your grandma in this condition I feel your pain. I think of my own grandma who passed away after her own aneurism. When their conditions mirror each other, so similar in presentation, it’s like peeling the scab off my grief. I don’t let you see that, but I choke back my own tears while you cry.

Oh dear mom, as you try to maintain your composure while your child remains paralyzed, I have to fight to keep from sobbing all over your shirt while I hug you. Your situation is a very real confrontation of the frailty of our children. I don’t like it as a mother. I will sweat blood to fight for your son's comfort, no matter the age. I know it could be mine just as easy.

My kind sir, as you cry over your injured spouse, I’m sorry that I have to walk away. I’m sorry I can’t be stronger for you. For a moment I place myself in your shoes. I imagine my loved one laying there, and I grieve with you. Then I get back on the gloves and I change the brief on your bride. I just wanted you to know that.

My singing, dancing, laughing behavior might make you think I’m indifferent. Or my distraction and firmly set expression might make you think I don’t care.

But I do.

What you don’t see is when I pull into my driveway at the end of the night after my long shift has ended. Often times I put my car into park and I cry. All the stress of fighting for them, all the grief pushed away, all the emotions finally have time and catch up to me. I don’t sing or laugh. I bawl.

Then I wipe my eyes and go inside. I hug my boys a little tighter. Then I go to bed early so I can come back in the morning and fight another day.

I just wanted you to know.

Sincerely, 

Your Rehab Tech aka Nursing Student 

New Doors

When Morgen's alarm went off at 6 am he jumped right in to the shower. 

I had no idea he would actually choose to sign up for classes this early in the morning. But as he was considering which major to go in to and looking at all the options, I took him out to the college to meet with his counselors two different occasions, and he really wanted to take this computer class. So he now has school earlier than when he had high school! And it's his choice. He is taking two computer classes, sociology, art history and scuba this semester. He already completed all of his math requirements when he passed the AP calculus test in 10th grade. And his scores were such on his ACT that he ineluctably has one English class. 

I'm so proud of him for his choices and excited for the new doors that are opening for him right now. He also starts two new jobs this week. So when I watched him walk in to his first college class today help me understand why I just bawled?! 

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hWMecluFs60

I watched this video on my phone, dried my tears and drove to my own class, Nursing Fundamentals (Fundy's). New doors are opening all around me. 

You Help Me See

I used to wake up in the morning feeling tired. Already bored with the day in front of me. Bitter that life was not moving in the “right direction.” Waiting in anticipation for Friday to appear, only to be disappointed that nothing fun was on my agenda.

The days all blurred together. The weeks turned into months. The seasons changed. Another year went by.

Planned vacations were always something to look forward to, and, in general, life was uneventful.

And I was not at peace.

When I wasn't at peace with myself, it was difficult to relate to anyone around me. Relationships suffered. Friendships went by the wayside. I felt alone. Completely and utterly alone. Miserable.

It was often hard to smile.

At certain moments, I'd see a sparkle of light, it did not hang around as long as I'd like it to.

I dreamed that something would “happen” in my life that would force me to wake up. Take notice. Make a change. I didn't realize I had it in me all along to go in deep and take action all by myself.

For me, it was a combination of both.

On the afternoon of August 5th, 1995 at 3:23 p.m., I gave birth to my little baby, Morgen.

I remember waking up in the middle of that night with him laying by my side thinking, “Oh my, there is someone that needs me in order to thrive.” Although he was growing inside of me for nine months, nothing really prepared me for that moment. All of a sudden, I was a mom, and it was no longer about me. There was another life for which I was responsible.

And what a beauty he was.

He became my shining light.

The days were no longer boring. Every minute had a purpose. And as he grew, he became my most influential teacher.

The days were not boring to him. He was in awe of everything he encountered.

Prudence getting potty trained was absolutely the most hilarious thing he had ever seen. 

And at three years old, he knew exactly what he wanted at any given moment of the day. The glory of being a child.

I decided to be a child again. I decided I was going to wake up beaming with joy every morning and go to sleep feeling content with myself and with my life.

{A word... Making my son my reason for feeling needed and/or loved was dangerous, and as such Morgen felt a huge responsibility for my happiness. In my innocence, I had accidentally placed a heavy burden on him for my mental well-being. I have read that a lot of first time mothers do this; and single mom's, as well. I realized my mistake when he was about 10 years-old and I made baby steps to rectify it. Today he knows that he is not responsible for my peace of mind. His happiness is not centered around making ME happy, that never worked for either of us. Contentment I now know, is found within. I let my boys be little boys, not caregivers for my discontent. No one can be my reason for living, having Morgen was simply the moment when I woke up and the best day of my life.}     

I don’t keep track of the days anymore. Mondays feel like Saturdays. Thursdays feel like Fridays. Every day is special. Every day has purpose.

I eat nourishing food my body needs in order to thrive. I make sure I find time to myself every day.

I love what I do.

{You help me see the beauty in everything}

I see beauty in everything.

• The smile on Markus' face when I pick him up from school.
• The way Molly leaps down the stairs.
• The glory on my son's face when he won his first running race.
• The tranquility of the Grand Canyon on our way home from Phoenix.
• The flowers blooming in our yard each spring.
• And the uniqueness of every human being on this planet.

Traveling and new people, new places, new insights, new experiences help me beam with joy every morning. While I enjoy every day to every extent, I can hardly wait to go on the next adventure. Last year it was Arizona, this year I hope to volunteer in Costa Rica or Kenya or Rio possibly through my work/study nursing school program. It turns I did pass my pharmacology class with a "B" and as such will get to remain in school. I am not sure what my story holds, I hope it holds many adventures that I have yet to realize. Thank you for sharing your story. It makes me smile. I have been given the gift of my boys and the sunshine they add to my life and I am so incredibly grateful to have found the thing that makes me feel content every night and that is traveling with them. Everything is amazing through their little eyes. Explore. It's MY word for 2014. :)

What makes you feel inspired in this new year? I’d love to know.

Merriest Christmas

From our family to yours...

Life and Times

When I was expecting Max I hoped he would have so many characteristics. I saved the list I wrote in his baby book and it begins: He’d have a good heart, would never give up, would be funny, honest, and athletic, forgiving, musical, and that once, he’d score the game winning goal.

He has a sweet heart and has found a sweet girl to share it with, Kyla. They went with a whole group of friends to see the lights at Temple Square last night and then came back to our house after for hot chocolate and watched a movie until way too late! :) As a result he woke up late for his hockey game this morning. 

He has a persistence in whatever he sets his mind to, and I love his witty sense of humor. He's obviously athletic and would play every sport if I had time to take him. He's forgiven me for so many of the mistakes I've made in being his mom and if I could change some things I would make different mistakes. 

He had a drum solo in the band concert at school on Tuesday night and I could see the smile on his face while he was playing. 

He had the game winning assist today.  

So Max when that little voice says, “You might as well give up,” Remember all the times I believed, encouraged, supported, and all the times I rose to my feet and cheered with tears in my eyes so you could overcome all the trials that have come your way. When that little voice says, “No one needs you,” remember this: Someone does.

Someone counts on me to be there when he wakes up,
When he goes to sleep,
When he is scared,
When he is happy,
When he is sad.

My boys can count on me to be there.

Not perfect.
Not yell-free.
Not toned, fit, and styled.

To be there.

Not always calm.
Not always smiling.
Not always pretty.

Trying and sometimes failing, but getting back up and trying again, hoping to do a little better than the day before. I round up all the strength I have in my weary soul and say these three words loud and clear, at least once a day:

I am here. 

Someone is counting on me to be here, and I am.

I am.

And today, that is enough.

The First Day

"I remember what you wore on the first day. You came into my life and I thought, "Hey, you know, this could be something." - Martin Johnson

I grew up seeing handwritten notes of love. My mom worked long hours teaching us and  she often wrote small, square papers on the bed for my sister, Sheri, and me to find. Sometimes it was just a smiley face, other times she simply wrote the words “love you” in her beautiful cursive, but it was more than enough. Starting in 1980, I started writing notes to my grandma who lived in Portland.  What I loved the most is that Grandma Jo always wrote back. The excitement I felt when I looked in the mailbox and saw a letter in my grandma’s shaky writing never disappeared. Even in college when there were tests to study for and work, I took time to sit on my floor and read my grandma’s letters the moment they arrived. By studying her handwriting, I could almost tell how she’d been feeling that day. In the end, her manuscript became barely legible. Those notes are now treasures.

The words "I Love You" from my mom, written in her signature beautiful cursive, birthday cards containing funny memories, and thank you cards from my friends, students and church members written by hand, and ticket stubs to games I want to remember are all important things I can't bare to throw away.

But I have to tell you, my greatest notes have come from my youngest son, Markus. Around the time I knew I was falling, my son was learning to write words. As I took the steps to be more present, he began writing me love notes. The timing on these couldn't have been coincidental, these powerful visuals fueled my efforts to take a step back.

It's been six years since I went to the game where Markus and I danced to the Macarena like no one was watching. But I still have the ticket, and the notes of love that he has written to me. I keep them here and there around my house. Now they are not so much for encouragement as they are reminders- reminders that time is fleeting.

Because the backward letters have disappeared. The floating letters have been grounded on stable lines. The phonetic spelling has become traditional and the letters are no longer gigantic, but small and neat. But the love, the love is still there.

Throw out some love -- it has a way of coming back to you. As you know I am a lover of words. So Markus inspired me to take 30 seconds on a busy morning to tuck a colorful post-it note inside a guitar case, on a pillow, next to a breakfast burrito, or in a coat pocket on a wintry day. All I have to do is imagine the smile on the face of the one who discovers it and I feel good too.

Notes

They have a way of creating connection despite the busyness of life. What calms a boy's school day fears can be found in the smiley face above the letter "i" or in the curve of an imperfect heart. What creates hope in the heart of a weary mom can be scrawled in all caps on a paper in a neon-colored sharpie and left on the counter. What makes a friend feel beautiful can be a bouquet of flowers with a note of encouragement. What brings my distracted mind back home can be a stick-figure family drawn beneath a giant yellow sun.

What I believe in and I loved can be seen in my handwriting 50 years from now, even after I'm gone. What really matters most in life is at our fingertips. So grab a pen and anything you can find to write on, my friend. Throw out a note. Watch love multiply.

And it may come back to you when you least expect it, but need it the most.

*****