Being Grateful

On Thanksgiving my ex-husband and I usually split the kids up. He takes two and I take two. Its nice because I still have two little ones to celebrate with, but I do miss the two that go with their Dad.

This year the three old went with his Dad. I love all my kids the same. I really do, but this little guy is my last little glimpse into the innocence of the baby/toddler years and I just try to appreciate it all that I can. Perhaps someday in the future I may have another child, and I'll get to experience this one more time. But in case that doesn't happen I have been trying to just take in all the moments of cuteness I can with him.

A few weeks ago he was sick. His breathing was so bad he sounded like he was breathing through a straw. I listened to his lungs and chest and heard crackling all over. I rubbed him with oils. I hardly slept for two nights because I kept waking up to make sure he was still breathing. I kept watching for signs of labored breathing, trying to make sure they didn't get worse. It took him a long time to get better. He stayed home from daycare for a few days. We were several days into the illness and he was still struggling and he still woke me up throughout the night. By about the fifth night of not getting sleep I just laid in bed and cried. I've given you everything I can. I have done everything I can. I don't know what else I can do.

We got through the week and he still wasn't doing good. I finally took him to the doctor. He had two ear infections. We got antibiotics and steroids for his lungs. Then a friend offered more help by recommending garlic oil and probiotics. He is doing much better now. But I was nervous to send him with his Dad. I know he'll be taken care of I'm just being a Mom I guess.

Yesterday before he left this little guy stayed outside with me and cleaned up all the leaves. It was a little rainy and wet, and I told him he needed to get inside because I didn't want him to get sick again. But he insisted on staying outside till all the leaves were picked up.

He is also the sweetest little helper. He'll sit and clean up a spill till every last drip is wiped up. Even if Mom says, "It's OK. That's good."

His eyes sparkle with sweet happiness and innocence. He smiles at me and laughs and plays. When he does these things it's as though he is saying, "It's OK mom that you yell sometimes and get upset. Even so upset that you sometimes do things like rip up a kite and throw it in the trash. It's OK because I see all that you are, not just the bad things. And I love you!"

I can't believe I have a kid that looks at me like that. I can't believe my other little boy comes up to me when I'm upset, gives me a hug and tries to help me calm down. I can't believe I have kids that ask to pray and read the scriptures, and make good choices. I feel I have done so little to help them throughout life, and I have been at a loss so many times. I can't believe what they have learned and who they are becoming.

I'm grateful for my boys. I'm grateful that they are growing into such fine young men, despite me. I'm grateful for my family. For my Dad who comes over on a Sunday and helps me fix my bed even though he can't even bend his knees. I'm grateful for a Mom who I can share my darkest secrets and thoughts with, and who doesn't judge me. I'm grateful for my wonderful friends, who forgive my busy life and are still there when I need them. I'm grateful for all this and more.

I look at my life and I'm in awe. I don't know how I manage to keep everything together. How I manage to achieve certain things. I know my Heavenly Father is responsible for keeping me afloat. He's responsible for all of this, and I am eternally grateful. Every time I stumble and fall, and think there's no way I can go on, he shows me what path to take. I don't always believe him that it is the right way. But as soon as I start walking I know for sure it is. It's amazing how he blesses us, and how it all works out.

Enjoy your Turkey Day! Hold those who are closest to you close, and appreciate that we get this day to spend together. I think the holidays are truly a beautiful thing. I know that we should carry this spirit with us throughout the whole year, but I love that we have set aside days where we will for sure take the time, out of our busy lives, to sit down to a nice meal, enjoy lovely traditions and appreciate those who share in this crazy life with us.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Can I Be Honest For a Minute

Mother's Day 2015

Tonight I showed up on my parents doorstep in tears about an hour after I had stormed out, once again because I was fed up with my kids. My parents somehow know just what to say. Especially those times when I think no one would possibly understand. They always seem to.

Tonight's tears are not much different than other's I have cried. And I want to explain why. I want to be honest here because I want other's to know they aren't alone. Sometimes I feel alone. I'm afraid to say out loud what I feel inside because it seems so opposite from what other's feel. So here goes.

I don't like being mom. I don't find joy in being a mom. I don't like being told that I should see this as my single greatest accomplishment and work. Do I think mothers are important? Yes indeed. But if I defined myself by my performance as a mother, and put that up as my greatest accomplishment, my heart would break everyday. Why? Because I honestly feel like I fail at it everyday. I don't know how to feel good about being a mom. I don't know how to sit back and say this is my ultimate joy because it's hard, it's stressful and I disappoint myself a lot as a mother.

I do love my kids. I find joy in my kids. They do wonderful things, and I take great joy in watching them learn and grow, and watching them show kindness to one anther and others. But I don't see the joy I find in my kids as joy in being a mother. I honestly love them to pieces, and I wish everyday I could treat them better, be nicer, be what they need, etc. I love my kids, but being a mom is hard and I don't know that I love that part.

I don't like Mother's Day. I think I liked it better before I had kids. I very much dislike being told I am so incredibly special. That my role in this life is one of the most important. And that I deserve to be honored and recognized. And then I wake up on Mother's Day and have to do the same thing I do everyday. If I want it to be special, well I have to do something myself. This isn't just me speaking as a single Mom either. This is how this day has felt for a long time. There have been some lovely Mother's Day moments. But over all I look to that day with dread. I'm told I am supposed to enjoy it, and have my day. But in reality it's never been any different than any other day. I also dislike that all these articles are passed around all year like, "7 Ways You Are Destroying Your Children" and "Don't Even Breath Wrong Because it Will Cause Your Child to Grow Up to be a Terrible Human". Exaggerations on my part, but you get the idea right? And then on Mother's Day I'm told how wonderful mother's are. It just. . .it just bugs.

My guy did treat me to a lovely day after Mother's Day this year. He drew me a lovely bath, decorated my room with rose petals and took me out to dinner. And he listened to me rant about my dislike for Mother's Day, and empathized with me. I can't complain too much. But still I would rather just pass over that day, stay in bed and pretend it doesn't exist.

It's hard to explain how it feels. To have the world tell me this is the greatest thing I'll ever do, and have it be the one thing I just fail at miserably. It feels terribly enough to send me crying to my parents over and over again. That's why I'm here now, writing this blog post. If there is anyone else out there that can relate I want them to know they are not alone. Maybe I'm broken. I don't know. I see everyone talk about what joy they find in being a mom, and I just can't relate because being a mom for me is just hard, heartbreaking and I would quit if I only could-- though I know I could never live with myself if I did. But in case I'm not broken, and there are other's out there, wondering if they are broken too, I wanted to share this. I'm not seeking help, answers or compliments-- though it couldn't hurt ;). No, this post is just simply to be honest in the hopes that someone else doesn't have to struggle and feel alone. I know mother's are wonderful and amazing people. I even know I'm probably not as huge of a failure at this as it feels sometimes I am. These are just honest feelings I have, and I wanted to share them, honestly.

I do have to say I have wonderful kids. They try so hard, and after I lost my temper with them tonight one little boy came home and cleaned his room to make me happy. He told his brother's to help so Mom could be happy. One of my other little guys has been an amazing big brother today. He helped his brother a lot, and spoke to him so calmly and patiently. When his brother said something wrong, he kindly taught him the right word. They are great kids! Even when they drive me crazy. And even though they have a crazy mother.

I guess in the end there's a difference to me from being told this is the greatest job I'll ever do and being told you're doing a great job.

Tilting At Windmills

It's not really a secret that I feel completely inadequate when it comes to being a mom. I really don't know if I was meant for this job at all. I have little patience for doing even simple mom things like not letting my kids have pop or sugar, or limiting their TV time. I had schedules and routines at one point, but they fell out the window along with anything stable we ever knew. Life has been crazy for the last 3-5 years as we have just tried to get by and survive. Things are getting better in some ways, but life is still so busy and crazy we fly by the seat of our pants a lot.

Unfortunately my crazy life is starting to catch up with me. I got a call from my younger twin's teacher. Apparently he has been throwing tantrums at school, and that day he threw a chair. Next thing I know I'm being told about behavior plans, counselors, making sure he gets a good breakfast etc. I'm so overwhelmed I just want to cry as the questions leak into my mind: "Why did I have kids? Why did He let me have children? Clearly I can't do this, so why was a sent four boys?"

I call my mom. She helps me feel better, which she often does. She helps to assure me to not feel guilty about this behavior my son has. Even though I have a temper I don't need to feel like this is my fault.

I pick my boys up from day care, and I pull the younger twin aside. 

"Hey sweetie, what happened at school today?"

He gets rigid, and looks away, "It was really bad."

I grab him and give him a hug as tears fill my eyes. 

"It's OK. I know it's scary. I know it's scary when you start feeling things, and acting in a way that you don't understand."

The experience is an emotional one for me. My little boy and I have been fighting a battle. An invisible battle that no one can see. We have been fighting our own demons, our temper, our anger. We talk about it all the time. We give each other hugs. We try to figure out how to get through it. But how do I teach him to handle something I, myself, have never managed to figure out how to control. 

So I pray about it, as I pray about everything. I am shown an old lesson, a lesson He has brought out many times. We blow off the dust and we begin. 

As I have lost my temper time and again, I have begged my Heavenly Father to tell me why this happens, and what I am to do with this flaw. I was told something a couple times, "When you feel yourself getting upset give it to me."

That was step 2. Yes I meant to start with 2. 

I practice this. When I feel frustration coming on I let if flow to a different part of my brain and hand it to my Heavenly Father. But I still fail.

I once again ask my Heavenly Father what to do. "Just because you failed doesn't mean you shouldn't keep trying."

This reminder is one I hold with me. Next, "Remove all shame."

This is step 3.

I need to stop shaming myself for loosing my temper. Shame can lead to addiction, and I think sometimes I feel if I shame myself enough it's a fair punishment for what I have done. Having a punishment sort of continued to give me permission. Like, "Go ahead loose you temper. It's alright as long as you shame yourself enough afterward."

Alright, but I still am loosing my temper. 

"Learn to change your thought process."

Welcome to step 4.

This idea came from a couple sources. First from a book called "Man's Search for Meaning" and from a friend at work who said her counselor suggested it to her. The idea is that in order to change a behavior you tell yourself you are going to do something as opposed to telling yourself you won't. For example: an insomniac would tell themselves, "I'm going to stay up all night," instead of, "I have got to get to sleep, I can't stay up tonight." This changes the thought process and helps to get rid of the unwanted behavior. So when I was upset I would tell myself, "I'm just going to loose my temper. I'm just going to do it!"

This worked pretty well, but not perfectly. 

Then I was reminded of a lesson from "Tuesdays With Morrie"

“Don't cling to things, because everything is impermanent... But detachment doesn't mean you don't let the experience penetrate you. 
On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That's how you are able to leave it...You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief... But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely.You know what pain is. You know what love is. "All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.”

This was step 5.

I have a terrible habit of trying to control my emotions by stopping them. I have long since been an advocate for feeling and letting people feel. But I guess since I have gotten over some of my major emotional issues, from all that has happened over the years, I sort of neglected to continue nurturing my emotional needs. Lately I have been stopping an emotion. I haven't felt it. I haven't validated it. I just stopped it and ignored it. The problem is when I don't give an emotion it's proper attention, and I leave it ignored, it festers and grows. It gets bigger and bigger, until it bursts out of me demanding it get the attention it so readily deserves. And it makes sure there is no way I can ignore it anymore. 

So I've been practicing feeling everything. Even the little frustrations and aggravations throughout the day. I give each emotion validation and remove all shame. I then release it and move on. It has been quite exhausting. This is a huge thought process to change. But I realize I am doing something I started learning to do a long time ago. 

This brings us to step 1. A step I started a long time ago. 

In a way what I am doing now is very similar to what I described doing in that post. The way I described it in the post just gives you more of a visual aid to work with.  

As I look back at the journey I have been taking, I realize each little lesson I learned along the way has became a step to helping me to be able to achieve this new process for handling my emotions, and each step plays it's own role in my overall process. Perhaps the battle isn't over. I still have struggles. But I feel my Heavenly Father their coaching me. Each time I feel a little frustration, or some sadness, or whatever, I hear a voice say, "Remember to feel it. Now remember to let it go."

Now to teach this to my little boy in a way he can understand. I have done several things. A lot of times I am met with defiance. When he has already gotten upset he doesn't want to try anything. So I started making some suggestions when he was calm. I tell him, "Why don't you take a minute and blow a big balloon full of any frustrations or anger you may have. Now let it go out the window."

I also told him to choose a rock-- he really likes rocks-- and tell that rock to help him remember to be happy. Then I told him whenever he is angry he can hold that rock and it will remind him to be happy. I sound totally crazy I'm sure, but it works. I have my own rock that serves as a reminder for me and helps to keep me grounded. 

We have talked about giving the emotion to Heavenly Father. We have also practiced taking deep breaths, and I told him to try and let the emotion wash all over him and fall to the ground. Then I tell him to just leave it there on the ground and walk away. 

We have set up some rewards systems as well. I took away TV, unless they are good that day. I have also told them they can't have pop or candy unless they are good all week. And I am trying to make sure he gets some food in him in the mornings. 

We have had a lot of help along the way from my parents to an incredibly sweet friend from daycare. Thank you to all those who have helped me to figure this out!

After I picked him up from daycare that day, his brothers went with their Dad and I took him out to talk to him. Sometimes the talk was frustrating. Sometimes he was defiant. But as the talk went on I felt my Heavenly Father there telling me which step to do when. 

I forgot about a couple other, in between steps to do along the way. While trying to make sure my children understood that is was OK to feel, and wanting to make sure I didn't shame them, I lost sight of when to do simple parenting things like: You misbehaved so you loose privileges. I was gently reminded that I am here to teach my children. And I need to teach them the proper way to deal with things, and give them proper boundaries. I have felt my Heavenly Father telling me when, and how, I need to insert these things into the above lessons. 

And I also learned that I need to forgive myself. I need to forgive myself for all those years I shamed myself for having a temper. This was an important step to coming to a point where I was really ready to take on learning to fully feel everything and release it. 

So as me and my son continue to tilt at windmills, and fight our invisible foe, we are grateful for the many tools we have been given to help ensure victory. It's been a hard process, but hopefully we can finally conquer this monster of ours.  

While we were out and about, just him and me, he asked me to take a picture of these windmills. Cute kid! :)

Tony Stark to the Rescue and Mom for the Win

Last Sunday was the best Sunday in a long time. Everything went so smoothly. The boys hardly fought. They got ready for church really well. We were all easy tempered. It was wonderful. Then came time to change out of church clothes. I pulled out the shirt, pictured below, for my oldest twin.

"What? I don't like orange!" He protested.
"This is the shirt Grandma bought for you come on, put it on."
"No!"

Hmm. . .well knowing he's an Iron Man fan. . .
"Look! Its like Iron Man!"
"Iron Man is red, not orange."

Darn! There was a time when orange counted as Iron Man's color for him. Now he has gotten smarter and more observent. But lets see. . .I may have one more trick up my sleeve. . .

"Oh my gosh! Do you see that? It says right here, on the tag, 'Official shirt of Tony Stark'."
"What? Where? I don't see it."

Do I dare to hope that his reading skills are such that I can still convince him the words on the tag say something they don't.

"I don't see Tony Stark on here."

Shoot! I'm loosing this game. Unless. . .

"Its written in a way so that only mom's can read it."

He's still not sold.

"Here let me go see if I can change it so you can see it too."

I run down stairs and search for a pen. A silver pen that will write on the dark tag. As luck would have it I find one. It doesn't write all that well, but I manage to get out a faint 'Tony Stark'. I run up stairs.

"I did my best. You can kind of see it now."

I hold the shirt out for him. He reads, "Tony Stark. Ok, I'll wear it!"

Success! Mom won this round!

Confessions of an Ill Tempered Mom

I feel my feminine creative juices wanting to flow. Do I dance? Do I sing? I can't decide. I think I'll write.

I have joined another lovely book club, and we had our first meeting tonight, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The thoughts and feelings shared reminded me of this post I wanted to write, so I thought I'd sit down and pound it out.

As a human being I have always had a temper. A HORRIBLE temper. And it has always brought about so much sadness and shame in my life.

In life sometimes I feel there is very little forgiveness for one with a temper. It is looked upon with so much negativity and sometimes, it seems, a person with a temper is labeled as bad, horrible, unwanted. I have felt so much shame for my ill temper. I have been shamed for my temper, and I have felt so broken because of it.

At times I feel that there are those who make many assumptions about someone with a temper. They want to place labels on one with a temper and say that cannot be a part of society until they fix this problem. But can I just say, "I have worked my whole life to 'fix' this problem, and I don't know that I deserve to be put into a certain category just because I am unable to find a permanent solution."

All through life I was under the impression that I was a ticking time bomb. People had to walk on egg shells around me. I didn't see myself as patient. And when I presented myself to people this was the picture I painted. Later in life I learned that these things were not true. Even if, at one point in time some of these things could be said about how I was acting, I did not have to wear them as if they were all that I am. I was a lot more wonderful things, and I could define myself by those things, and I could exemplify those traits. But, I still had that awful temper.

It always came as a shock. It wasn't how I wanted to live. It wasn't how I wanted to be. I tried counting to ten. I tried saying a prayer. I tried. . .I tried. . .I tried. . .Sometimes I would think I was fine and had avoided losing my patience. And then out of no where my ugly temper would show it's face. It was so unexpected that I didn't even have a chance to try and stop it. I've pounded pillows, kicked doors, thrown stuff, deliberately broken dishes. Honestly it seems I am out of control, but I actually am still practicing some control. I try to let out the emotion without hurting or damaging anything, or at least anything important. But there have been come casualties along the way: CD cases, dents in walls, etc. It's not something I am proud. It's not how I want to behave. But honestly there are just moments when I am upset, I want to be upset and I don't care to try and stop it.

I have tried releasing my emotions to Heavenly Father. I have tried grounding, and using essential oils. I have read books. I have contemplated theories. I have tried to learn about anger and the hormones released. I have tried to figure out it's purpose, so perhaps I can respect it for what it is. I have worked so hard to find peace in my life. I meditate and pray daily. And I have found so much peace and balance, and yet still that frustrated little temper exists within me.

Sometimes it feels like a fire burning away all the things that have built up so I can start clean. But sometimes the fire leaves ugly scars and it's hard to pick myself up and restart again.

Am I really a monster? Is this really who I am? How do I escape this? What is the answer?

I don't want to be this. It feels like such a betrayal to who I am and who I want to be. I've practiced not shaming myself. I've worked on changing my thought patterns. I want to set a better example for my children. I want to stop hurting those I love, including myself.

One of my twins came to me the other day. He told me he has such a hard time controlling his anger. I sat down with him, and told him that I did too. We talked about things that might help, and we  promised each other we would try our hardest to do better each week.

This little boy has often times come up to me when I was upset, stretched out his shaking arms, took a chance and gave me a hug. So much courage, so much love, so amazing for a my little boy to do this for me. My heart aches each time I see it. I feel so bad that I put him into a position to have to do something that probably scares him so much. The other night when I let myself get too upset at the dogs for peeing on the floor-- it's been a hard week-- he came and took my hand and pulled me away. Where did this child come from? He is one of the first to really help me with my temper, and he is the one that needs help himself. I wish I had someway to help him, but I still struggle with this problem myself.

In past relationships I have tried asking for help when it comes to my temper. But all I seem to remember is feeling shamed and humiliated. This probably was not intentional. The feelings I felt were my choice to feel. One night, while I was having dinner with the guy I'm currently dating, my patience wore thin. I got very upset with one of my kids and lost my temper. What had I done? Not only had I hurt my child's feelings, but I had shown my horrible ugly side to someone who I was hoping wouldn't have to see that part of me. I wanted to crawl out of existence. I was certain he would see me as unfit and throw me away. Instead he gave me a hug. Told me it was alright. He validated me. There was no shame. There was only forgiveness. It was simply amazing. I still felt like a person. I still felt like I had worth. I didn't realize that was possible.

Yesterday was a struggle. I had lost my temper and continued to be agitated. There was a voice in my head that insisted I was worth nothing now. Who would want me for a wife? I was lucky to have found one person who would marry me, did I really think anyone else would be willing? And what about my kids? Is this the kind of mother they deserve? Do I really think I'm fit to be their mom?

I have to work hard at it, but I am starting to realize that just because I have this temper doesn't mean I have to throw myself away. If my kids pick up on these behaviors, well hopefully they pick up on my good ones as well. And hopefully one day I can finally make some peace with this part of me. It's a journey I have been going on my whole life. And I'm still unsure what road I need to take, but I'll keep searching.

Speaking as one who has a temper, it's not always intentional, it's not a desire to hurt and be mean, it's not fair to those around me, it's not fair to me, it's mostly just a struggle.

If You Get 4 boys Ready For Church

If you get four boys ready for church you will get responses like, "We're going to church? I don't want to go to church!" Trying to respond to these is usually unwise,  so you'll hand them their clothes and dress the two that aren't arguing with you.

If you hand them their clothes and tell them to get dressed you'll come back 5 minutes later to find them still in their underwear. . .

If you hand them their clothes and tell them to get dressed you'll come back 5 minutes later to find them still in their underwear. . .

If you hand them their clothes and tell them to get dressed you'll come back 5 minutes later to find them still in their underwear. . .

You turn off the TV.

If you turn off the TV you'll get some sass, but they'll agree to get dressed. You ignore the sass because the two you got dressed just turned on the hose to fill up their water guns.

If you find them playing with water guns you may decided to just shrug it off. It's hot, they'll dry off quickly and you need to get dressed yourself.

If you decide to get dressed yourself you'll most like get interupted after you plug your curlers in and take your pajamas off.

If you get interupted you'll spend the next 45 minutes running around the house in your underwear telling everyone to stop fighting and to not bring food into the bedrooms. And You'll run upstairs 10 times before you finally remember to grab their socks and shoes. You'll also almost walk outside like 10 times.

If you deal with all the messes and fights, and you've patted yourself on the back for finally remembering the shoes, you will probably believe you can now get ready for church.

If you believe you can now get ready for church you will walk into your childs room to find a package of graham crackers on the floor with crumbs everywhere.

If you find this package you will yell at your children in a voice you didn't know you had because you spent 10 hours cleaning the house the day before, while the kids went with their Dad.

If you yell at the kids they'll probably cry.

If they cry you'll feel bad and apologize, but you will ask the guilty party to vacuum up his mess.

If you are at this point you will then decided to turn on a show, however annoying, and tell the kids to just sit there and watch it so you can get dressed. You'll finally put on deodorant and a shirt and you'll finish putting curlers in your hair.

If you finally get to put curlers in your hair, you will help the kids put on their shoes and finish getting ready.

If you finish getting ready you will go outside, snap a picture of the only kid that will let you and you will start walking to church. 

If you start walking to church you will hear protests like, "Can't we just drive? I hate walking! I'm staying here!"

If you hear these protests you will offer to get the stroller.

If you offer to get the stroller you will notice your new shoes just broke, for the second time, in a different spot.

If your shoes break you will most likely change them.

After changing your shoes you will be on your way to church.

If you are on your way to church your kids will still argue. Some will stop to look for the water in the storm drains and ask you a million times where it is. Others will yell at the ones stopping.

If you hear these arguments and deal with these pauses you'll do your best to shrug it off because you got out the door and that's SUCCESS!!!

Even if you are 2 hours late

Every Monday

Every Sunday Night I pile my kids in the car, after having dinner at my parents house, take a deep breath and prepare to start yet another week. Sometimes we go for a drive to hang on to our weekend for just a moment longer. The lovely weekend where the time is ours to do as we choose, instead of doing what we have to do.

This Sunday, I climbed in my car, my kids were with their Dad since it was Father's Day, and suddenly my strength just left me. No deep breath would get me through this one. I just cried. 

I hadn't realized how much strength it takes to face each week. I hadn't realized how taxing it can be.

Each Sunday I put on a brave face and try to face the hardships that will come. The hard ships of: 

- carrying my 2 year old out to the car every morning and feeling him snuggle into my shoulder and wishing I could have just a moment longer with him.
- dropping my crying kids off at daycare and having to ignore their requests to stay with me.
- getting through another day of work
- coming home and caring for four kids and a house and hoping against hope I can have some quality time with them

-hoping I can get to bed before midnight. 

- trying to be patient with my guy's opposite schedule and the lack of time we get together.

It isn't easy. It takes a great deal of strength each week. And boy do I feel it.

But its life, and feeling these things at least lets me know I can still feel. And it lets me see how strong I really am and how brave my kids really are to face it all with me.

So every week we continue to face every Monday.