Motivation

It's the new year, again.  Everyone is busy setting goals and making vision boards and being excited about new opportunities and new adventures and getting things done.  I also feel this optimism and excitement about recommitting to goals and thinking about what I want the future to hold.

 But, it is also January. 

It is cold.  And snowy.  And dark.  It's so dark.  I just want to curl up in my electric blanket right in front of the burning fire with a really, really good book and a cup of hot chocolate and read my way through the month.

Fitness goals?  Sure, I have them.  But am I feeling motivated to lose ten pounds during the longest, darkest, coldest month of the year when all I want to eat is a little bit of soup with my warm bread?  No.  No, I'm not. 

Ten day Cleanse?  No, thank you, the bread just got out of the oven.

So, this year I am trying something different.  I am going to look at each new month as a new beginning.  Taking into account the time of year, the different activities that each member of my family is involved in, and how motivated I feel to create change, I will set monthly goals accordingly.

January looks like this:

                 Read lots of books.
                 Bake bread.
                 Stay home as much as possible.

These goals are in direct conflict with the rest of the world.  I will not be working out, I will not be eating healthy, I will not be socially active in building a business, or anything else for that matter.

But, don't we deserve a reset month once a year?  Is busy, busy, busy really the ideal life?  I plan to read lots of educational, interesting and mentally engaging books.  I plan to try some new bread recipes and share with my friends and neighbors.  I plan to spend quiet evenings with my kids playing games, reading, talking, whatever they want to do.  I plan to reset my mental and emotional being after a busy year of doing all the things. 

This doesn't mean that I am quitting my job or all the kids extra curricular activities  or eating vegetables at all.  I realize that life doesn't stop because I want it to.  But, I'm not adding to it this month. 

Will February look different?  Most definitely.   I've got things to accomplish this year!

Evil Knievel Takes a Tumble

Aiden is a daredevil.  He loves speed, he loves risk, he loves scaring the breath out of me.  He falls a lot, but it doesn't deter him.  Two months ago we took our first trip to the ER- three stitches right in the middle of his forehead from running into a slide on the playground.  When I asked him why he didn't stop he explained that they were playing tag with their hoods over their faces to make it more difficult.  Because blind tag is awesome!  It didn't faze him- on the way back to school he said he was looking forward to the attention he was going to get from the girls!

Ah, third-grade romance!

So, when Jared's work had their annual ski trip we thought he would love it.  Ady loves to ski and Aiden's natural athleticism and desire for crazy made us think that he would, too.  But, he was nervous about it and even asked me if it was dangerous.  I told him it was no more dangerous than the school playground!  And as they walked out the door the last thing I said was...... don't break any legs!

Karma.  You know what it is. 

I thought Jared was just giving me a hard time when he called and said that Aiden had broken his leg.  I laughed.  He said it again in his 'I Am Not Having Fun' voice.  I met them at the ER.

A spiral fracture of the right tibia, a full leg cast and crutches, pain killers that made him throw up the first night, and lots of patience for both of us. 

The first thing he said to Jared as he lay in the snow was "these ski's are trash"!  I wonder if Evil Knievel  thought that about his bike as he rode it straight down into the river.  At least Aiden is still around to let us know that his skiing days are over- he'll take his chances on the playground!

The Ten Percent Rule

"Good families- even great families- are off track 90 percent of the time!"
                                                                          - Stephen R. Covey

As I sat in between my two nine-year olds at church today, my good friend was giving a talk on family unity.  I was throwing elbows and dirty looks and shushing kids as fast as I could, but this quote got through the crazy and into my head.  What a feeling of relief!  It's okay if we are barely functional most of the time! 

I have worried a lot lately about my kids and our family life.  We are in a difficult stage right now:  we have a hormonal twelve- year old girl, two whiny, self-centered nine-year olds, one of them picks fights with anyone available just for the sake of arguing and the other makes noise constantly that is always one decibel above any talking or music or other noise in the room.  And our sweet six year old who has perfected the whiny tattle while secretly antagonizing the other kids.  When everyone is home it is a constant stream of contention, and a super grumpy mom!

I worry that all they will remember of their childhoods is me yelling and sending them to their rooms, or sitting in front of the television for hours on end because I got tired of yelling and wanted them to be content ( and away from me).  I worry that they won't build sibling relationships like I want for them, or that they won't associate our home as the place they would most like to be.  I worry and worry and worry and then worry that I am worrying too much!
I made a list.

Things that only happen ten percent (or less) of the time:
    Talking nice
     playing together
     enjoying family scripture study
     pleasant family home evenings
     limiting screen time
     teaching important life skills (dishes, laundry, cooking)
     patient and understanding mom who doesn't yell
     logical consequences

The list could be really, really long.  Embarrassingly long.  But, when I stop and focus on what happens in the good moments, the moments when we are on track and I feel the joy of motherhood, I can see the direction we are headed and I can see that we are making progress.  Slow, painful, dragging us by the teeth progress, but progress nonetheless. We have a goal to be a happy, loving family and to have a home environment that will make our kids want to be here and to bring their friends here and to return again and again no matter what.  We work towards that every day. We make progress, in varying degrees, everyday!

So, my new guide line is ten percent.  As long as I feel like the important things are happening ten percent of the time, I will be happy.  Less worrying, more loving and enjoying the stage we are in- there are so many good things about every stage.  We don't have to be perfect, we just have to keep getting back on track everyday and keep trying. 

Thunder

     I love thunder and lightning storms.  Something about them is magical to me- the flash of light and the echoing grumble, the louder the better!  Especially in the summer- the cool wind and the much needed rain with the added bonus of a light show and music in the heavens make for a great evening. One of my favorite childhood memories is of dancing in warm summer rain listening to the thunder.

     I also have a very vivid memory of being about twelve years old and visiting my Aunt at her ranch in Mcall, ID.  The thunder was bouncing around between those beautiful mountains and the lightning was incredible.  My aunt gathered me and my cousin in her bedroom and we sat on the bed, her arms around us, and waited out the storm.  She explained how these storms had always frightened her and how she hated thunder and lightning.  That is the first time I can remember associating fear with those storms I loved so much.

     Fast Forward.... Four and a half year old T-bug joins our family and we discover that she is full of fear for anything that is out of her control- the car going too fast or down a big hill, being bounced high on the trampoline, swinging high, and weather.  Thunder is her nemesis and lighting right behind.  She is terrified, and the smallest little rumble can wake her from a deep sleep.  As she has gotten older and learned about things like tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, and floods, her fear deepens.

     Luckily, she is able to put this aside most of the time and it does not interfere with her daily life.  Unless she listens to the news or the weather, or practices an earthquake drill at school. Then for days she will worry, ask questions about what would happen if a natural disaster did occur at our home.  Her fear sits in the back of her mind and keeps her vigilant- no sleeping, no letting your guard down, the flood is coming.

     Last night as the thunder roared and the lightning flashed and I thought how nice it was to be in our warm kitchen with the kids doing various projects, T-bug paced from window to window with that look on her face- the panicked "we're all going to die" look.  Words don't comfort and nothing distracts, so I let her pace and answer her questions calmly.

"What would happen if the drains plugged and the water couldn't go down."

"Lightning likes metal, right?  Will it hit the car?"

"How is dad going to get home?"

"What would happen if the lightning hits our house?"

     I repeat over and over, "You are safe in our house,"  hoping that some day she will feel that way.  I can only imagine the things of her childhood that caused her fear of not being in control, and I am sad that she is missing out on the beauty of nature, the feeling of letting go and flying free, out of control and loving it.  It amazes me how a lack of nurturing at a very young age affects so many different aspects of development and understanding of life.  It saddens me that my little nine year old girl loses sleep over natural disasters that could occur someday.

     I realize that a fear of thunder and lightning is not uncommon, and that natural disasters are frightening and devastating.  I know that I cannot promise her that nothing like that will ever happen to our house or our neighborhood.  But I hope that someday she will be able to manage that fear and know that she is strong and the world is not against her and that there is beauty in things that are bigger than us - a symphony in the flashes of light and the answering thunder.

Moments

I am grateful for the moments of joy with my kids. Sometimes they are few and far between, but I have learned to cherish them when they come. I need them to balance out the rest of the time! A few recent moments:
Halloween night was warm and we walked about two miles trick or treating to all of our neighbors. The kids were having a great time, it was nice to be outside, and I loved watching them have so much fun.
We covered the kitchen table with paper and the kids painted. It was snowing outside and the kitchen was warm and the kids were enjoying each other and were so excited about what they were painting.
Superman bore his testimony in Sacrament meeing and said, "I know that my family loves me, and I love them." It was the same thing every other kid said, but I knew at that moment that he did know that, and that he does love us, and it made my heart ache with the joy and love I felt.
All of my kids were in the primary program this year, so I sat by myself for the first time ever. As they stood and sang, "families can be together forever," I cried and cried, so grateful that Heavenly Father has given me a family to be with, here on earth and in eternity.
I spent some time with Sunshine making her a CD of her favorite songs. She spent the next two days memorizing every one of them and singing everywhere she went. I smile everytime she sings!

Growing Up...Slowly

I thought growing up would be different. I thought that I would know stuff and be mature about things and know how to handle social situations that are tricky. I thought that I would have all the answers for my kids and that it would be easy to handle all the roles I would take on; mother, wife, friend, neighbor, homemaker....
I read blogs written by women who seem to have it all together. They blog about the revelations they recieve teaching them how to organize their cleaning schedule, the fun crafts they do with their kids in between meals and cleaning and running kids to and from different activities, the amazing gourmet meals and monthly menus that they consistently create, and of course the decorating and crafting that make their homes gorgeous and organized and, with the new cleaning schedule, clean.
I, on the other hand, have resolved to stop reading blogs. Except for the rants that I publish myself, I don't need that kind of encouragement!
Are these women for real, or do they just fake it online? Because I cannot figure out they grew up so well. How did they become such good adults? How did they figure life out and master it so completely, when I seem to flounder at every task?
So, I have decided to redefine adulthood. Adulthood is no longer the period of time in your life when you have mastered yourself and become who you always knew you would be. Instead, adulthood is the period of time when you learn how to improvise really well and continue your search for identity in a more hands on enviornment, all the while pretending to those around you that you know exactly who you are and what you are doing!
I have a feeling everyone else figured this out long before I did. And someone probably already blogged about it!

Brooding

We have a broody hen. Her desire to hatch eggs is stronger than her desire to do anything else. She goes out to eat and drink occasionally, but we have only seen her out twice in the past two weeks. She doesn't lay any eggs while she is brooding,so she is sitting on the other hens eggs, carefully tucking them underneath her and keeping them warm and safe. She gets extremely upset if we get too close to her. She is a very good little hen, diligently tending her little flock of eggs.

We do not have a rooster in the chicken coop, making her efforts fruitless. Apparently, chickens do not know the difference between fertilized eggs and those that will just rot underneath them in the summer heat. The instinct to be a mother is so strong that she will just sit for around three weeks, protecting the unfertilized eggs. Maybe she dreams of little yellow fuzz balls following her around the coop while the other hens look on jealously-- or maybe her hormones just make her want to sit and protect the eggs without really knowing the outcome. I'm sure somebody, somewhere is studying the chicken brain to understand more of how they think! But while they're trying to figure it out, my hen is sitting.

The research I have done on brooding hens-- since I don't really know anything about chickens, all my information comes from the internet!-- says that she will sit for about three weeks and then give up. But the other hens may see her sitting and decide that that's the cool thing to do and follow suit, which could cause egg production to drop significantly. Meanwhile, I will feed and water the hens that are sitting around doing nothing but being hormonal. But, the other option is to serve the hen for Sunday dinner. So, we are letting her sit.

Thinking about this hen, and worrying about rotting eggs and a coop full of sitting hens, has made me think about the instinct all species have to reproduce. Well, okay, I haven't been thinking about all species so much, mostly just my species! Human females get broody. The desire to find a reproductive partner and get busy is about the only thing that was discussed in my college apartments. And after the first one in a group of friends has a baby, eveyone else starts to want one. Just seeing a baby tends to make a girl broody!

I have sympathy for my hen, I think because I can compare myself to her. I have spent many years brooding- living with the desire to bring a new life into the world, and not being able to make it happen despite my best efforts. I understand her desire to try, to believe that a miracle could happen. I understand her hope, and her frustration when the eggs are stolen from her. Maybe I am attributing too much feeling and emotion to the hen-- okay, I know I am! But, sometimes its nice to know that someone understands.