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.