Day 9: In their shoes

The challenge for both today was to imagine myself in the others' shoes. I think any mother or wife can benefit from doing this for a whole day or even for just a few minutes. I also joke about E and how I wish the hardest part of my day was deciding what jelly to have on sandwich or someone telling me to sleep. And truthfully, as an adult, wouldn't that be nice. But sometimes I just need to stop for a moment and realize that those ARE challenges for him. Those things are difficult in his world. Because I've outgrown the feeling that those things are difficult, it's easy for me to become frustrated and say "E, would you just CHOOSE already!" or "E, for heaven's sakes, GO TO SLEEP." But I sure would hate it if someone said, "Hey, you, do the freakin' laundry. It's not that hard." I need to try harder to remember that even if I think something seems easy, to his little mind it is a HUGE task. Patience will follow.
As for the Hubs, I definitely need to put myself in his shoes more often. I don't often give him the credit he deserves. Granted, I still think being a stay at home mom is THE hardest job EVER, but he works really dang hard for our family too. Kade works at least 6 days a week, sometimes working two jobs in one day. And while his day job is not physically taxing, it's mentally taxing, and I sometimes forget that. He's a great man, and he does a lot for our family. I'm lucky to have him. A single parent I could not be.

Day 8: Dates

Please excuse the delay...Things have been...well..NUTS. As usual. Moving on.

Day 8's challenge was simple and to the point. For E: Calculate the number of weekends until he graduates from highschool. Because it's the time of year that graduations happen, I simply multiplied 15 x 52 for a grand total of 780 weekends. That's a lotta weekends, folks. Lemme tell ya why I disliked this challenge. Firstly, I don't think the challenge was intended to make me say, "Wow. I've got plenty of time!" But truly, he's only 3. We've got time.  I'm trying my hardest to stay in the moment with E lately, and not wish away his younger years. I don't think moms should be calculating the weekends and days until their child is considered grown. We don't need to look at parenting as a deadline. It's a life-long job. There will be plenty of time for playing ball, going to Disneyland, and camping. I know some parents who would probably sit down and write a list of 780 things to do before graduation. What a waste of our time. Just enjoy the moment you're in. Don't spend the minutes of their childhood planning what to do with the future time. Use the time you're in. I've had a bad habit lately of thinking to myself, "If only he were younger and would let me cuddle him still." or "If only he were older and we could do _____________." Wishing these things doesn't accomplish anything but waste the precious moments I have been given with him now. He's just here in this moment. Take it. Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to enjoy every single minute. If he's having a tantrum and kicking me in the middle of the grocery store while I try to keep smiling and give people the "Oh, I'm such a good mom, because my kid is a terror and I can still smile at him and talk nicely" look, but really I'm thinking "ohmygoshthisissoembarrassingicouldjustdropdeadrighthereinthisaisle"--you can bet I won't be feeling too appreciative. You don't have to enjoy every moment. You should even try. Don't plan on it, Sister! You just have to be there present in the moment. If nothing else, it's good mommy-guilt for later. Just picture it-- "E, you have to come weed my garden, because this one time when you were three *Insert horrible parenting moment here*"

Now, for Kade today all I had to do was put a date night on the calendar for the month. This is tricky for us, Ladies and Gentlemen. We don't always know our schedule until the day of. And even if we have a date planned, if someone calls and offers Kade or I a chance to go make some bucks, we go make some bucks. But I am going to make a sincere effort to follow through and make a date night happen for us this month. When we were newlyweds, we went on a date every single Friday even on our extremely meager budget. But as it happens in marriage, we had these tiny people move into our house, and suddenly no more dates. This is okay. We like being at home with our babies or going to do family activities. I had a seminary teacher say, "If you don't date your spouse, someone else will!" Um..yikes. Please, no one else date Kade. I promise I'll do it.  My favorite dates are the times we pop popcorn or make dip and stay up late playing board games and acting like idiots together. Who wouldn't love that? So, here's to date-night. Let's make it happen!

Day 7: Dear Easton...

Today's challenge is to leave a sweet note for both of my boys. Easton can't read, so I'm writing this post for him. Someday he'll read it, and it will bless us.

Dear Easton, 
Right now at this moment you are upstairs asleep in my bed. It was a fight for me to get you to sleep. I think someday it will be a fight to get you out of bed. I don't know how old you will be when you read this, or if you ever will, but it's important for me to write this letter to you now, while you're so young. You are nearly 3 1/2 years old right now. You are such a sweet little boy. I love you so much that sometimes I feel like my heart might really explode. I'm trying to think about what you might need me to say to you (the future you) when you read this. I hope you know how loved you are. I hope I tell you everyday. I hope you tell me everyday. You are the best brother I have ever seen. I hope that you still read to Alivia. I hope you still tell her she's gorgeous. I hope you still feel extreme joy whenever she smiles just for you. You've recently become  such a Daddy's boy. I hope you still look forward to seeing him everyday. I hope you still look just like him. Secretly, I hope you still team up with him to make me nuts. The thing I love most about you right now is your contagious excitement for the little things in life.  I feel so blessed to have you. Last night, I was telling Dada how awesome you are and how cool it is that we got to have kids in these days. Let me explain...Think of all the millions and billions of people that have already come this world. Daddy and I got to have the most special babies, because you were so great and so strong that Heavenly Father waited until these times to send you here. That shows that you are an extraordinary little person. You're so stubborn, and though that makes me crazy sometimes, I know that it means you will be stubborn about other things in life and this is a trait you will need to have as you grow. Please, be strong. Please, be courageous. Remember that you belong to a Chosen Generation. You will witness great things in your life. You will DO great things in your life. I am already so proud of you. You are my first born, my son. You will always be special to me. I love you to end of the world.
Love, Mama.

Day 6: The way to their hearts...

Day 6's challenge was to make/buy my boys their favorite food. I should have been more prepared for this, and it was bad luck that it fell on Sunday so there could be no buying involved. They had to choose from things in the house to eat. Instead asking E what his favorite food was (and therefore having him name a food I didn't have and couldn't get which leads to a fit instead of closeness...), I allowed him to eat pretty much whatever he wanted yesterday. Lucky for me, Easton loves fruit and vegetables, so it wasn't the junk fest most parents would imagine. I don't think this one did much for us as far as feeling close and building our relationship. I might repeat this challenge on a day when we can go out to eat or make a trip to the store.
What did Kade choose? Nachos. Of all the things....he chose nachos. So, after church I made him (and myself) a gigantic plate of delicious nachos. It was actually a very good choice. Our tummies thanked us.

I cook for my family a lot and try to make yummy, healthy meals that my family enjoys. So, I don't feel like this challenge was particularly great for us. If I didn't cook or bake everyday, then I can see how this would be more beneficial. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach right?  But I will say that I'm pretty sure Kade's favorite part about me being a stay at home mom is that fact that he has a home cooked meal waiting on the table almost every night when he gets home. I enjoy cooking for my family and trying new recipes. I'd love to know--- what meal do you make that is always a crowd-pleaser?

Day 5: Remember these words

Day 5 was interesting for me. It was simple challenge. For Easton- "Tell yourself "He's only 3 years old, and then treat him that way." For Kade- "Tell yourself "He really loves our family, and he's doing his best for us."

Let's start with the marriage challenge for the day, shall we? The timing was serendipitous (fun word, huh?). As I said in my post about Day 4, Kade was out of town last weekend umpiring a tournament in Wendover. I appreciate so much that he takes his time (and vacation days) to travel out of town to make extra money for our family. Even though being home alone for days with 2 children and no break is hard on me, I know that it's just as hard for him to leave us behind and work for 2 days straight (and I really mean STRAIGHT). I am so lucky to be married to a man whose love for sports has proved to be not just a talent and hobby, but a really big money maker for our family. Without his umpiring money, there is no way that I would be able to stay at home and raise our children. So on Saturday, while I feeling crazy and overwhelmed by single-parenting it was nice to be able to stop and say "He loves us and he's away so he can help us." It helped to renew me and remind me that this is what he does for our family, and what I can do is be home with our children and take care of our home. Sounds like a nice deal to me. Thanks, Kade, for all you do for our family. --I think he'll be really proud for me to tell you that by the end of this month he will have umpired nearly 100 games this year alone.

For E...Well...This week has been rough for us. I don't know why, but he's decided to start biting. I thought at this point, we'd have skipped the biting phase, but apparently he wants to be sure that I don't miss out on any of the joys of parenting. I've been trying a lot lately to help him recognize his feelings and tell me about them. He doesn't seem to understand that yet, but I'm going to keep trying. So in the midst of the tantrums on Saturday, I would stop him and say, "Easton, what's wrong? How are you feeling?" Now you would think that if he's having a fit, I should know how he's feeling. But, he could feel sad, mad, scared, hurt, etc. I can't help him calm down, if I don't know what he's feeling. Like I said, he doesn't get this question very well yet. So, in keeping with my challenge, I thought- How can I help him understand this or how can I help him calm down? Because he's only three, I have decided that my best tool is distraction. His attention span is very short. I have been very successful with this one. While he's rolling around, kicking, screaming, biting things, I look for a way to distract him from whatever he's feeling. Some good ways I've learned-- "Easton, what can you hear/see outside?" or when we're in public, "Easton, I spy with my little eye something...." Instead of distracting him with rewards and treats like I used to do in desperation, these little tricks are REALLY helping us. When he's calm, then I can talk to him about how he feels or what's bothering him. If it doesn't work, then I use my old sentence, "Easton, I'm feeling angry. I need to leave and take a time out." And yesterday after church, I decided to try something new. "Easton, I need to say a prayer so that I can calm down and know how to help you." Then, I do just that. I kneel down and say a prayer in front of him. I want him to see that when I need help, I turn to my Heavenly Father. I'm hoping that these little things start to make difference in his life soon and in mine, because he's getting a little out of control. Any other moms reading this-- PLEASE tell me-- HOW do you get your child to be obedient without screaming fits?

Day 4: A smoochy smoochy

I apologize for my absence. I wasn't being forgetful. I had a good reason for waiting, and I'll tell you it later.
Have you noticed that the challenges are similar for my children and my husband? It is making things pretty easy on me. Day 4 was no exception.
The mommy challenge for the day was to kiss my children while they sleep. Well, let me tell you, I do this every single day anyway.  It's said that most mothers don't sleep through the night- no matter the age of their children. This seems obvious to me, but I am a mother. I check on my kids multiple times a night. Is there anything so sweet as a sleeping child? A looks so sweet snuggle in bed like a little burrito, still sucking away even though she's long lost her binky. I can't help but kiss her little squishy face. But, still, it doesn't top a sleeping Easton. No talking yelling, running, whining. Just sweet sleep. He sleeps like his dad-- all spread out, mouth hanging open. He even talks in his sleep. It's all I can do not to set up camp for the night next to him so I can just stare at his precious face and run my fingers through his hair. So, that being said, Day 4 was no problem for me. It's important to take those moments with your children even if they never know it. Some days, it the only peaceful moment I have with my children the whole day.

Now- the reason for my absence is the same reason I wasn't able to complete Day 4 with Kade. The marriage challenge was to kiss my husband the first time I saw him that day. Well, that would be great except Kade left at 5:30 am for the whole weekend. I didn't see him on Day 4. I waited to post this day, because I didn't want to publish that my husband was out of town. I already think every noise in the night a rapist/killer/kidnapper/demon without me informing the world that I'm home alone. I think most women can understand and forgive me of that.

I'm not sure if I will revisit Day 4 for Kade either, because there are few things in this world that bother me more than bad breath. Morning kissing isn't something that's likely to make me feel close to him. :)

Day 3: Hugs all around

What can I say about day 3 except that it was piece of cake (partially)?! Day 3's challenge was to hug Kade and my kids each 3 times. As far as the kids go, that's easy-peasy. I can't get enough of E's little arms around my neck and squishing Lou's tiny body with a hug. Piece. Of. Cake.
Now, for some reason, I didn't manage to make this one happen with Kade and I felt pretty dang bad about it. 3 hugs. Why would that be harder than not correcting him or asking to do a favor for him? I'm blaming it on our hectic lives. Yesterday was especially hectic. He worked til 5, we fed the missionaries and my lovely friend, N, then we helped friends move, had a fire with the neighbors, and rolled into bed exhausted after 11. We were going, going, going all day. Which is exactly why I SHOULD HAVE taken the time to say "STOP!" Just for 5 seconds, I could have stopped and made sure that Kade got a hug. Or two. Or three. But I didn't. For shame. And the worst part is that I distinctly remember him trying to stop me for a hug, and instead of going with it, I did what I usually did and got irritated. How dare he stop me dead in my tracks, and make me slow down my crazy pace for 2 seconds to say  hello and show him that I love him? Seriously? The nerve....
So, I will try this day again for him, because it's important and because he deserves it.

Day 2: Hold Thy Tongue

On day two I think I about bit my tongue clean off. Let's start with the marriage challenge for the day: Go a whole day without correcting your husband. Shut the front door. Are the people over at iMom kidding me? They've got to be kidding me, right? Whether they're a bunch of jokers or not, I had to follow through. You should know that I am ALWAYS right. Even when I'm wrong...I'm right. Kade also believes that he is always right. All joking aside, things were going really great on day 2 and this challenge wasn't very hard. Until Kade got home from work, anyway. Firstly, he bought the wrong dishwasher soap. But I was very grown-up and didn't even mention it. As if day 2 wasn't hard enough, I also had an audience that night to be sure that I was keeping up my end of the bargain. Whenever I would open my mouth with a "Well, actually....." I would get a look from someone in the family and I would quickly zip my lips or say "Maybe you're right, dear...." The best thing about this challenge was the fact that it made me aware of how frequently I feel the need to correct Kade. Now, truthfully, sometimes the boy needs correcting. I think most people will agree with that. But, also truthfully, I could lay off. And I'm trying to. So therefore. Day 2 of the marriage challenge = success.

Onward....
Day 2 of the mom challenge was difficult, but not as difficult as I had anticipated it being. The challenge was to not yell at E for a whole day. I'm kind of a yeller. Especially when E pulls a stunt like pooping in his last pull-up when he's supposed to be sleeping at 11 pm. *Irritation*. When I would feel myself getting mad, I would simply say "Easton, what you're doing is making me feel mad. I need to leave you alone for a while so I don't do something mean." He didn't love it. But  he also doesn't love being yelled at either, I'm sure. I thought that this challenge would be a lot harder, because I think I'm pretty hard on myself as far as mothering goes. I feel like the Wicked Witch a lot of the time, but this challenge helped me to realize that I'm much harder on myself than I need to be. This is also one that I'm going to continue working on each day.

On with the month......

Day 1: Do somethin' for the boys

Both of the challenges I did yesterday were about performing some service for the boys in my life. The Mom Challenge was to ask Easton one thing we could do together this month. Well, Easton doesn't have a great sense of time. He's constantly telling me he did something last year when he means he did it yesterday or asking to sleep in my bed for "justa couple a days!" Anyway, that being said, I decided to skip the "this month" part and instead ask him what was one thing he would like to do that day. He chose bowling on the Xbox. Now, that sounds easy enough I'm sure, but I was surprised that my first reaction was to say "Wait til Dada gets home and he can play with you." My thought actually stopped me dead in my tracks. How frequently do I make Easton wait for Kade to come home to have someone to play with? I'll admit, I'm not very good at playing. I'm good at coloring and reading and talking to E...but playing? Not my strong point. So, I resolved to play with Easton more yesterday. When he woke up from his nap I thought it would be a good time for said bowling. But as 3-year-olds do, he had already changed his mind about what he wanted to do. He decided that he would rather color on the Tangled preschool packet I had printed out for him. Fine with me!!! So, we colored, and we went to the park, and I let him play outside for a REALLY long time with his new fishing pole (or, fishing rod if you ask E). I feel pretty satisfied that he got lots of playing time in and that I participated more than I usually do.
As for Kade, because he's not 3 (even if sometimes I wonder....) and he can read, he was already expecting my question and actually laughed at me when I asked what one thing I could do for him that day. I already knew exactly what he was going to ask for. Now, stop yourself right there and get your mind out of the gutter, because I know what you think he was going to ask for. You think I'd write about that on my blog? Geez. No. All the fool wants is a back rub. And ya'll? I HATE GIVING BACK RUBS. It's the worst. Whenever Kade asks for a back rub, I just politely remind him that he would never rub my swollen pregnant feet so he can worry about his own back. But not during the 30 day marriage challenge, my friends. *Sigh* I went to book club and spent hours talking with lovely ladies. When I got to bed, it was about 11:30 pm and I still hadn't lived up my daily challenge. Well...technically the challenge only says that I have to ASK what I can do. It doesn't say I have to actually DO what he wants.....But, I didn't think I could really get away with that, even if Kade was snoozing away in bed. So, I woke him and rubbed his back and put a big red check mark next to Day One. SUCCESS.
Oh, but don't you think day two is going so easily for me......

Take the challenge

Some days having a 3 year old is particularly difficult. I'm not sure what's going on in E's world at the moment that is causing his behavior, but I do know that he's a little (a lot) off this week. Think non-stop tantrums, screaming, "NO!", and fighting. It's been rough. Days Weeks like this I find myself feeling pretty beaten down by the end of the day. I can handle it for one day....but two, three, four, a week and I begin to throw all of my good mommy skills out the window. Each day ends with me feeling about a million times worse than the one before, because I KNOW I did not live up to my end of the parenting deal that day. Now, I'm not looking for a bunch of comments reassuring me that I'm doing a great job. I know that Easton still loves me and he knows that I still love him. I just want us to act like it. So I'm taking the 30 day mom challenge. You can see it here. I'll be documenting my journey each day to reflect on what I've learned from each day's challenge. I encourage you all to try it too. Tomorrow is the 1st of the month so it's the perfect day to get started. The tasks should be fairly simple but worthwhile. Also, because I know that I cannot be a good mother without being a good wife first, I'm also going to do the 30 day marriage challenge at the same time. Why not? You can see that challenge here. I'm sure my son and my husband won't even know half the time what the daily challenge is, but this is more for me. Here's to May.....

How to be the best mom ever

Oh, I got you. You're here, because you think I actually have the secrets to being the best mom ever and that I intend to share them with the world. Because you clicked on this post I can gather the following information about you:

1. You have either never met me or never met my children. If I were the world's best mom, I believe that I would never be in pajamas past 8 am, my son wouldn't eat poptarts for breakfast, my 4 month old daughter would always be dressed in homemade dresses with matching bows and shoes (also homemade), and my house would be sparkling clean. If you have met me, you would know I am definitely not succeeding at any of those things. 
2. You are dying to be a better mother and secretly, you still hope that somewhere there's a manual. There isn't. Or if there is, I don't have it. Sorry. 

What is it about us as women that we can't just sit back and relax and enjoy that fact that we ARE mothers? Why can't I see the toys on the floor and instead of feeling guilty about the house being a mess realize that my children have played hard today and learned a lot while doing it?  Why can't I allow my son to just be little and not fret over the fact that he watched 2 movies today and wore a pull-up instead of underwear? Why can't I play tag with E outside without feeling that we should be indoors learning the alphabet instead? 

As mothers, we have a serious over-achiever complex. Trust me, I know. I work. I go to school. I raise two children. I take care of my home. I spend time with  my husband. Boy, I sure sound like an over-achiever, but let me assure you, I'm not. People are always saying to me, "How do you do all those things?" And I am constantly replying, "I don't". I don't! Here's how it goes:

If I'm getting good grades: The house is in shambles, the laundry piles resemble the Alps, I stay in pajamas all day, my family eats leftovers or fast food, my husband complains that he hasn't seen me all week, and my children play with each other or by themselves. 

If I have a clean house (I never have a clean house for longer than an hour, BUT when I spend the day cleaning): E watches 3 movies and A plays alone or naps, I get irritated with the hubs for not cleaning up after himself and making a mess as soon as he walks in, my homework doesn't get done, and there are still mountain sized piles of laundry, because truthfully that never ends.

If I am a good mom/wife: House is a mess, homework isn't done, definitely not working.....

If I work: Homework undone, family unfed, house in shambles...you get the picture.

It is IMPOSSIBLE to be all those things in one day. I have never once been a good mom, a good employee, a good student, and a good wife in one day. NEVER. I can only be good at one thing each day. That's a hard choice to make, because I sure want to choose to be a good mom/wife everyday, but the house needs cleaned, the GPA needs maintaining, and money needs to be made. 

Sometimes after a really long day, I sit on the couch and all I can think is "Boy, I think I need a vacation from being a mom." Because, ya'll-- It's a damn hard job! Even if I earned salary, benefits, sick days, etc. it'd still be the hardest thing I've ever done. But even without all those things, it's still the most rewarding job I've ever done. I work for toothless grins and little arms wrapped around my neck. I work hard for laughs and full bellies. I work HARDEST for "Thank you for Mommy" during prayers and how peaceful A looks when she's tucked into bed. 

What I hope for most in life is that when my children are grown they don't say things like "Man, I wish my mom had made me smiley face pancakes everyday, read books and played games with me constantly, and always looked beautiful doing it." What I hope they say is, "My mom tried everyday to show me she loved me whether it was by getting an education, working, or playing. She loved my dad. And we were happy." That's all we can do really, right? 

I don't have the secret to being the best mom ever. But I hope that my children can see how hard I try everyday to be good at SOMETHING. They probably won't realize it until they are much older, maybe with kids of their own. But most importantly, I'm pretty sure if you asked E who the best mom in the world is-- he'd say me. And maybe cause I'm the only one he's got, or maybe because truly deep down in his 3 year old heart he knows how hard I'm trying to be perfect for him. And I think any mom who really tries to be the best and wants so much to be perfect for her kids is already an excellent mom by default. 

P.S. My mom really IS the best mom ever. Maybe she's got the manual? 

My confession

Every now and then something heavy will weigh on my mind. So, I'm dusting of this old blog and getting down to business. Here goes....

I'm not sure if you all got a chance to catch President Uchdorf's talk during the April conference (if you didn't, read it here.) Ever since I listened to this powerful sermon, I've had two words floating through my mind. "Stop it." Stop judging. Stop comparing. Stop blaming. 

First you should know how much I love my family. This time I'm not talking about Kade, E, or A. Although, I do love them so much that it frequently takes my breath away. I'm talking about the family that raised me. I think my family is typical in that we are all slightly crazy. I'm a miniature version of my mother (not literally, because she's quite small). Though I also have moments where I remind myself so devastatingly much of my father that I stop dead in my tracks (However, the day that I pretend to fall down the stairs for attention and laughs will be the day that I have myself committed, Dad.) I have beautiful, amazing, intelligent sisters. They are my best friends, and I only hope to some day measure up to their standard of motherhood. But for years growing up, I was unable to show this kind of pride for the family that raised me. However, as time goes on, I find myself looking for opportunities to talk about my family. I love to tell people about my parents {They've been married for 30 years this June}. I love to brag about my sisters {Did you know my older sister T. has a degree in CHEMISTRY? And my sister L. turns everything she touches to gold?}, my nieces {They are the best example of sisterly love EVER}, my nephew {He could read when he was THREE!!}. But growing up, I wasn't this way. I didn't talk much about my family, because I was afraid of being judged. Because my family is different from a lot of the families in the area we live. Perhaps, I should back up a bit?

I was raised in Hyrum, Utah in a small subdivision with cute, tidy homes and perfectly sweet LDS families. Although we lived in a cute, tidy home and had an adorable family with two lovely parents and 3 beautiful daughters, I felt outside of this community. I was not raised in an LDS home. I was different from most children in our area. We didn't go to church on Sunday, and we didn't have Family Home Evening every Monday night. My mom wore tank tops in the summer  (*GASP--I know! A TANK TOP! OH NO!). My dad played in a rock and roll band (Oh! For shame!). My sisters dated before they were 16 and one was a teen mom (OH! THE HUMANITY!)

I had a friend who took me to a Young Women's activity with her one night just before my 12th birthday. I fell in love with the girls, the leaders, the church house. I'd been to church before, of course. My parents and sister were all baptized into the LDS religion at the appropriate age, but I hadn't, and they were no longer "active" members. I remember feeling quite accepted and loved within that group of girls and I continued to go for several years. My parents were ever supportive of any religious choices my sister's and I made. I was baptized when I was 15 years old. A decision I made on my own with  much support from family and friends and with a firm testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel.

But there was also another reason for my baptism that I realize more and more as I get older. A  need for acceptance. To be able to say "Yes, I am LDS" when asked by friends and other parents. To feel a little less judged. Horrible, terrible reasons for someone to make the decision for baptism, whether I realized those reasons at the time or not. But, who can blame me?

My testimony is still firm and strong and there is no doubt in my soul of the truthfulness of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I KNOW it is true. I love my church, but I hate the fact that sometimes I still feel a little judged for certain parts of myself. But, you know what? Stop it. Stop it, everyone. Stop judging. Stop taking offense. Stop gossiping. Start loving. Start accepting. Start actually being an example of Christ's love.
I'm guilty too. I do it every day. I notice whether or not people are LDS and I sometimes form judgments. I notice the coffee in their hands, the length of their shorts, the language they use (the same words I use from time to time) and I judge. Why? How stupid. How ridiculous.

For years, people in our ward when I was a little girl were horribly mean to my mom. Not because of who she was, but because of choices her brother had made-- A stranger to those women in the relief society who would turn and walk the other way when they saw my mom in the store. Shame on them.

A while ago, a man named Dan Pearce wrote an article about the Disease of Perfection. He urged us all to drop the act and admit to being who we really are. So I'm going to do that.

I'm proud of who I am. I'm proud the family that raised me. I'm proud of my religion. I'm proud of the family I'm raising. I'm so happy for my parents to be sealed in the temple soon. Not so that they might be more "socially acceptable" in this valley, but so they know the true love and peace that can be felt in the temple.
I'm grateful for my imperfections. I'm grateful for the things about my family that might cause other to judge us.

Sometimes, I swear. Loudly. Like a sailor. And I don't care if you judge me for that, because sometimes when you stub your toe or make a mistake, those words are the only ones that fit.
My sister was a teen mom. She's the most wonderful mother I've ever known, and I wish every day that I was MORE like her. She inspires me. There were a lot of people that judged her and our family for that, but the truth is, our family is so much better for it. That baby girl has blessed us all beyond measure. And more than anything I hope she doesn't mind that I've mentioned her here. :)
My father is a recovering narcotics addict. And, I love him for that. He has proven to me that people really can change if they have the desire and something worth changing for. His love for the gospel is so pure, so true. He inspires me, too.
Sometimes, I yell at my son. I'm working on it. He still loves me, and tells me every day that I'm "the best girl in town."
I change my clothes more on a Sunday morning that any other day of the week, because I want to look as beautiful as the other women do.
I am a consultant for Slumber Parties, and sometimes I sell people sex toys and make jokes about sex. I don't really care if you think it's wrong, because I'm at peace with it.

And even as I write these things, I'm nervous. Nervous that someone will judge me. Nervous that someone won't sit near me in church, because of what I've said. I've deleted things originally written in this post, because I was afraid to even write them for others to read. How stupid. How ridiculous.
Why do we do this to each other? Why don't we encourage our friends and neighbors to be who they truly are? I'm so grateful for the few people in my adolescence that allowed me to be who I truly was at the time. They know who they are. I hope that I encourage everyone I know to be true to themselves.  It is our imperfections that make us so valuable to each other.
So, stop it, everyone.
Like President Uchdorf said: "Don't judge me, because I sin differently than you."
Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
Be true.

The makings of a life

One day I will write a book. A memoir perhaps. This is why I love it when people do crazy wonderful or just crazy things in my life. One day they'll be a chapter in my story. But don't make me hate you or I'll edit you out. Or perhaps it's worse revenge to leave some people in the story. I've been meaning to sit down and write a vague, more factual, time-line type of life story. Obviously it doesn't happen. It's too much like journaling, which I loathe. Dear journal..blah blah. Who cares? I think writing is meant to be read and shared. Not locked with a key and kept secret. However, I'm thinking I'm just not ready for some people to know some things about my life and me. That is why ONE DAY I will write a book. But, in order to help motivate me to write my lifestory I am going to write down as many snippets of memories as I can think of in five minutes. Ready. Go.
Odd that this came to me first, but I remember picking up grasshoppers in the yard at our old Hyrum house with my cousins. I believe I chased my sisters with them. I went through a "bugs are cool" phase when I was younger. Now I just squish them.

{Sorry, Mom} I remember finding used tampon applicators in the trash and using them to make birdfeeders. Since I didn't have birdseed, I just spread peanut butter on them and hung them from a tree in the FRONT yard! Ugh..how embarrassing for all those involved.

Once, I found a garter snake in the garden at our house in Iowa. I named him Ziggy and I love him for about twenty minutes. Then the neighbors boys tried to feed him and broke his jaw. He died. Poor Ziggy.

On that note, I once found a dead mouse outside and named him Timothy. I put him in a Jiffy muffin box and buried him. I didn't understand why everyone thought that was so gross. I'm surprised I survived that.

I used to set up a stand outside our house and sell rocks. Yeah..rocks. I thought they were neat. I failed to realize that people could get rocks anywhere...for free...

I was always a devil or a clown for Halloween. Except for that one year. That time I was Wonder Woman.

I still miss the nights in summer when I was about 12. We would go to Quintin's house {it was pink} and play night games. I wish I could still do that. His mom made the best doughnuts.

Once we put Quintin's cat inside the grill. We thought we were hilarious. Don't worry..it wasn't on.

I think that's all I've got for now. Except for one thing that only a select few will understand. They probably don't read this anyway...but...corndog.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I just finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. It quickly climbed it's way into my top 10 favorite books. I recommend it to all of you who have not read it. If you have read it..read it again. I love it that much. Since I've been slow to posting on here lately, I thought I'd share with you a poem from the book that I love very much. It's morbidly wonderful.

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

The body of a mother

"When a woman is twenty, a child deforms her; when she is thirty, he preserves her; and when forty, he makes her young again."

Leon Blum

I was twenty years old when a child deformed me. I stared at the little pink lines that confirmed my pregnancy and read the instructions over and over, convinced I had read it wrong. And from that moment, my body has never been the same. An even stronger confirmation than the pink lines were the waves of nausea, the exhaustion, the mood swings. Then the tightening waistbands and the baby bump. My son's Christmas gift to me was purple stripes across my belly. Pregnancy is a complete transformation. It is the first way that a child changes you. Pregnancy and birth quite literally scar your once perfect body. At times I look in the mirror with contempt for my new body, but today, I honor it. I am grateful for the little extra tummy flab that proves that I made the ultimate sacrifice of sharing my body with another. I am grateful for every stretch mark that bears witness to the child that grew inside me. I am even grateful for the way my chest sags giving proof that my body can sustain life from within and from without. I am grateful for the width of my hips that allowed me to bring a child out into the world and to hold him at my side as he grows. I respect and honor every inch of my new body.
Before my son, the moments that held the title "the best" were few and far between. No other moment can hold a candle to birth. Now I am blessed with moments almost daily that I can call "the best." All my baby has to do is lay his sweet, sleepy head on my shoulder and I melt into a puddle. Every time he reaches out to touch my face or gives me one of those cheesy, toothless grins my heart swells. I was twenty years old when a child deformed me. I was also twenty years old when I learned the meaning of life. When have you ever heard a mother question why she is on this earth? We don't ask, because each time we look into the eyes of our child, we know. Even after my son is grown and gone, I will remember. He has tatooed himself on my heart and on my body. And I will never resent the fact that skinny jeans might not fit, because I brought a child into the world. And no accomplishment, no weight, no perfect body could ever eclipse that joy.

Nikki's Guide to Driving in Utah

We all already know that Utah drivers suck. We're quite proud of our skills, really. In fact, the only drivers worse than Utahns, are drivers from Idaho. Here in the Beehive State, the DMV gave us a piece of plastic with a hideous picture of ourselves on it, and therefore, we are entitled to the road. We own it. Hey, you! Get off my damn road! For those of you who may have been taught to drive in another state, I've gone through the trouble of writing up a how-to so that you too can drive like a Utahn. You can thank me later.
Lesson One: Passing Pokies
We nearly always pass on the right. You may have been taught that the left lane is for passing. You pass the pokies and move back over right? No, sir...not in this state. Unfortunately for drivers from the other 49 states, Driver's Ed went in one ear and out the other in Utah. Why is it that the slow pokes think they belong in the fast lane, anyway? Just about the only time I pass on the left is when there is a very large, slow tractor driving down the side of the road. Farmers own the road too, I guess.

Lesson Two: The Plus 5 Rule
The speed limit is actually the posted number + 5. If you're not going 60 in the 55, get out of the way. If you're going faster than that, pass me on the right and enjoy your ticket. A cop (who had pulled over a friend of mine) actually told us that cops in this valley will not pull you over for a mere 5 over. The only time I ever actually go the posted limit is when I'm blocked by two pokies or driving the company vehicle. I have a theory that if people on main street actually went the speed limit, the amount of traffic would improve. My mom always said (and has been proven right on several occasions) if you're stuck behind a slow poke, it's probably an old man in a hat. Look for yourself next time. Therefore, I propose, old men in hats should be limited to back roads and buses.

Lesson Three: Avoiding a Ticket
There are certain areas where you must (ABSOLUTELY MUST) obey the laws. Locals know the hot spots for cops and speed traps. If you know better, you will not speed through Nibley (besides the allowed 5 over). If you're smart, you will not roll through a stop sign in Providence. I happened to learn that one the hard way. And at night, be aware of reflective vehicles and cars parked in sneaky places. It's also a good idea to be careful near the end of the month or you may fall subject to the rumored "quota".

Lesson Four: Drive Distracted
You may not drive unless you are currently being distracted by one of the following: children, iPod, cell phone, GPS, an old man in a hat, or a built in DVD player.

Lesson Five: Traffic Lights
Yellow means speed up and the first 4 seconds of a red light ("Pink Lights") mean speed up more.

Lesson Six: Intersections
It's acceptable to stop in an intersection on Main Street when traffic is backed up. You will have altleast 3 opportunities to do so if you are in Logan at the right time of day.

Lesson Seven: Stinkin' Peds
Pedestrians don't have the right of way. Drivers own the road, remember?

There you have it. Follow these simple rules and you'll be driving like an idiot in no time. You'll fit right in. Happy driving, Utah.

Seven reasons I'm a Logan Cubs fan

This post is dedicated to my husband and the other members of the Logan Cubs baseball team.
Here are the top 7 reasons I love to cheer on the Logan Cubs.

7. I love my new baseball family.

6. Because the coach has never thrown a base, screamed at an ump, or held a grudge against one of his players.

5. No one loves baseball quite like Ajay Salvesen. It is splendid and refreshing to watch.

4. Because, if I were a Blue Sox fan, I'd gain 90 pounds eating Lion Pups and double cheeseburgers. Best to stick with a team who only occasionally takes me to the Smithfield diamond.

3.Because my husband looks HOT in red and blue.

2. I have a soft spot for underdogs.

1. It sure beats the hell out of being a Hyrum Hornets fan every day of the week (and twice on Saturdays!)

Musings

Welcome to my new blog. I am dedicating it completely to my musings. Did you know I've always wanted to be a writer? So..instead of actually fulfilling the 3-4 book ideas floating in my head on a daily basis...I'll just empty my mind onto here..

Musings (Plural Noun): Thoughts, especially when aimless and unsystematic.

I doubt I could find a more appropriate title....