Thanksgiving Eve?

Since this is the Thursday before the biggest day of gratitude of the year, does that make today the Thanksgiving Eve of Thankful Thursdays??

It does in my book.

So there.



I've been abysmal at blogging this year.

I have my reasons. Many of them actually. But they're my reasons and not everything is meant to be shared publicly:)

But here I am today. And on this momentous holiday, I would just like to say that I am thankful for my crazy life. God shows me every day that He loves me and is mindful of me. When life gets tough, He's there. When life is good, of course He's there. The world is a tough place to live sometimes, but there is so much beauty here. I hope we can all see at least a little of it every day.

Love to you:)

What are you thankful for today?

I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

I am a woman.

I love being female.

My gender is eternal, beautiful, strong, amazing, capable, nurturing, and incredible.

This Thankful Thursday I want to share my gratitude for the privilege it is to be a woman, a disciple of Christ, and a member of the LDS Church.

Never EVER have I been told or made to feel that I am less than my brothers in the Church. Whenever I have been part of decision-making councils, my voice has always been heard and valued. Even as a teenager!

I have power. I have authority. I have worth. I am an equal partner.

Much has been said in recent months (years. decades. scores. generations.) I don't feel the need to repeat the good stuff or debate the wrong stuff. I would like to just add one point I feel is being missed as the conversation seems to pull over to dwelling on how "mistreated" both sides are.

The one side for being "oppressed," "silenced," and "second class."

And the other for feeling "misrepresented," betrayed," and "belittled."

Yes, we need to love each other. Yes, we need to show compassion. But we seem to have forgotten that sometimes love and compassion is saying, "You're wrong. Stop what your doing. Let me help you understand. But you need to stop because you're hurting yourself (and/or others)."

I don't deny that people have been hurt and some have made very poor choices on how they handle the situation. But being hurt doesn't mean you run screaming down Apostasy Lane. Being hurt doesn't mean it's okay to call OW supporters horrible people. Sometimes you have to tell someone you love that they're being an idiot! And sometimes being loved means you have to hear that you're being an idiot!

The OW movement is wrong and based in misunderstanding, false teachings, anger, and pride.

There. I said it.

I know.

Ouch.

I am not heartless. Empathy runs in my veins (put there by simple genetics and an awesome upbringing). I hurt for the people who have been hurt. And I hurt more that so many are ignoring the loving counsel of family and leaders and hurting themselves and others more. It's sad.

But sadness doesn't mean we ignore the truth and "hug out" the hurt with empty words on the internet.

I am thankful to be surrounded by people who love me. People who will encourage and support me through thick and thin. The same people who will be honest with me if I need to change course. Who won't coddle me. Who will push me to be a better Lindsey. THAT is love. THAT is acceptance. THAT is tolerance.

What are you thankful for today?

"On December five and twenty..."

They say that writing is good for the soul.

Journaling is therapeutic and helps a person to work through their emotions. Writing out thoughts and seeing them on paper helps a mind to see things more clearly and better understand thoughts, emotions, reactions, etc.

So why is it that any time I've tried to sit down and write out my thoughts in the last months, that I don't like what comes out? What comes out doesn't feel like me, doesn't feel true to my core, doesn't feel productive or edifying...and you know me (or maybe you don't), if it's not edifying, I am not a big fan.

I refuse to believe that I am what I have written and deleted in the past months.

Cuz I'm not.

Yet I sit down to write and feel like I just start going in circles. It's insanely frustrating.

Every once in a while, something good and clarifying comes out of my efforts. But for the most part...circles, circles, circles.

Which may account for my lack of activity here.

Missed me?

No?

Well, who needs you!

I'm going somewhere different this Thankful Thursday.

I'm going to pat myself on the back and talk about me, me, me, and how awesome I am.

Historically, I haven't taken compliments well. But I think I'm doing a swell job improving being able to recognize truth in compliments and accept them gratefully.

So today I'm going to run right past tooting my own horn, and blast some long, loud notes. It may seem self-centered, but since I never do this and I'm only really repeating things other people have told me- it's alright, right?

And who can't use a good pep talk in the mirror every so often?

I am ridiculously optimistic. Pollyanna ain't got nothin' on me.
I am 50 times more charitable and Christian than I was 15 years ago, even five years ago. My first reactions may not always be thus, but usually I am on to more charitable thoughts in mere moments.
I am one of the strongest women I know. No joke.
I may not have a ton of friends, but with the ones I make I am true blue. And so are they!
I am a good mom. I love my boys and I work hard to establish and maintain boundaries that will help them grow up awesome and happy.
I am a stellar wife.
I am wise and intelligent. Not as quick-witted as I wish, but who likes a triple threat anyway?
I make really cute kids.
I have super awesome taste in the arts.

Yeah. That's enough horn blasting for now, I think.

What about you?

What about yourself are you thankful for?

Speak to me

The rest of today and the whole of tomorrow is all that stands between us and General Conference.

How lucky we are to have technology that makes it so easy for the entire world to hear from a prophet of God?

I am very excited to hear what the leaders of the Church have to share with us this weekend.

I am so thankful to know that God still speaks to his children through his prophets. I am thankful that I can listen with my family in the comfort of our home. I am thankful for an entire weekend devoted to soaking in and feasting on the good news Christ has offered us.

Yay!!!!

When you say you love me

I don't know if I've ever shared this here before.

Sorry if I'm repeating myself.

I have this thing I like to do.  Sometimes, when I hear a love song I like to think of the lyrics in a religious way instead of a romantic way. Words between me and Jesus.

Try it.  It's a great way to feel good about life when you're down.

One of my favorite songs to do this to is this one:



When I open my eyes to it, Heavenly Father and Jesus tell me I'm loved in a million ways throughout each day.

A soft rain that brings that heavenly smell through my windows. "I love you, Lindsey."

A mountainside of aspen trees in various stages of color changing. "I love you, Lindsey."

A gummy grin from Trooper. "I love you, Lindsey. And so does this baby boy."

Clouds hanging on the mountains, a misty dark blue sky, and the sunrise peaking through as I drive the boys to school. "I love you, Lindsey."

Peace washing over me from the top of my head to the ends of my toes when I pray. "I love you, Lindsey."

Open your eyes and see all the ways they are telling you they love you, too!

Never enough

Life is good.

...but I always want more.

I'd like some heavenly guidance.  I've been asking, begging, and pleading for it for a couple months.

Especially so in the last few days.

I finally got some today.  Only it wasn't quite what I wanted.

I finally get an answer and immediately I'm basically whining (just like my kids, and I hate it when they do this!) that it's not enough.

*siiiiiiiigh*  Once again, Heavenly Father, I'm sorry.

Thank you for helping me to see more clearly.

Thank you for strengthening my faith.

Thank you for showing me that you ARE watching over my family, even when I start to wonder what's going on.

Thank you for being patient with me.

Thank you for showing me over and over and over again that you have plans for me and my family.  Plans that you understand better than me.  Plans that will lead to the best possible blessings that you can give us.

And thank you for blessing me with four sons who push me to be better and fill my life with smiles, shining eyes, hugs, kisses, laughter, and joy.

Thursday, Thursday

Today I am thankful for this:

Texas finally passed the bill I mentioned in this post.

(The inflammatory writing was annoying and the twisted arguments and tactics of the protestors still sadden me, but the bill passed.  Baby steps, baby steps (little Freudian slip pun there for you:)).)

For this:



And for this (I dare you to watch it without feeling any emotion):



I am grateful there are still many who are trying to protect life in this increasingly sexualized society.

I am grateful to know who I am and to belong to the largest women's organization in the world.

I am thankful for thought-provoking, tear-inducing, happy and uplifting videos. 

What are you thankful for today?

Someone loves me

Anyone else out there look at other people's struggles and think, "I could never do that.  They are so strong." ???

I do.

But really, the fact is- if you were in their shoes, you'd likely be just as strong. 

I mean what else are you going to be?

If you suddenly find yourself single, or unemployed, or crippled, or, or, or...what else are you going to do but pick up pieces and trudge on?

I suppose you could always end your life.  But let's just not do that, eh? 

Thanks.

On a much smaller and less dramatic scale, I have been discovering some of my own strengths.  There have been so many times in the last few months when I just wanted to give up. 

I get tired.  Tired of being the cheerleader, tired of being the referee, tired of being the coach (my life is just one big sports metaphor), tired of being the maid, tired of being the judge, jury, and enforcer, tired of being the nurse, and now I'm tired of making this list.  You get the idea.

Life is draining.

But when I get to the point that I start thinking about just stopping, I (ever so thankfully) realize that life is not about me and someone would suffer if I dropped whichever metaphorical ball is giving me the most grief.  And so I keep going.

I keep going. Even when I thought, "That's it.  I can't do it anymore."  And when I make that choice to keep going, oddly enough I have the strength needed.  It works in every single aspect of life.

Funny ol' world, innit?

Anyway.  All that to say, I've been pushed to the wall so many times in the last couple months and always found it give once I've determined to keep going.

This morning I was faced with another wall. 

I glared at the wall.

I stuck out my tongue and kicked that stupid wall.

I leaned against the wall and moped at its existence.

And then I decided to do something productive, but different; just to change things up.  I cleaned out a long ignored cupboard.

In it I found the interview I'd done with my dad about his years in the Navy, drawings and doodles from five year old Jonzy-boy, the clippings from the twins' first haircuts that I thought I'd lost, and the notes from Al's and Goose's baby blessings that I also thought I'd lost (and kicked myself for so many times!).

Yeah, I cried.

I found the notes about ten seconds into the job.  I look for them every six months or so, the last search being two months ago.  As soon as I spotted the notebook, God told me, "there it is."  I gasped and snatched it then started thumbing through it to confirm if it was or not.  When I landed on the right page, the emotions flooded and that wall jumped back a few yards.

It moved further away with every lost item discovered.

It makes me so happy to get nods from upstairs.  I love reminders that Heavenly Father is aware of me and my silly struggles. 

Even though I wish it was bedtime now;)

Thankful Sunday

Busy as life is these days, it picked up in intensity on Thursday. 

It's been a full weekend.

And so I am here to say, on this last day of June, that I am super thankful for Sundays and the day of rest God gives us.

I got to sleep in this morning, thanks to my lovely husband.  I got some church stuff done and we all got ready for church.  We spent a rejuvenating three hours with our ward.  Bret brought the boys home while I finished up some work at church.  Trooper took a nap.  I made dinner (tacos, widely praised by my finicky sons) and now we're about to start the bedtime routines.

It's been exactly what I needed.

Thank you for Sundays!!!!

What are you thankful for today?

That's it. It's time to get uppity.

It's hard to live here.

Hard to live in a world with people that I just don't understand.

I try. 

I am an open minded person.  I think and process and ponder before I come to any conclusions; especially about people.

But try as I might, there are just some people who mystify me.

People like this:


I saw this picture this morning.  It makes me sick to my stomach.  It scares me. 

To bring you up to date, Texas was trying to pass a bill last night.  A bill that "would have banned abortions after 20 weeks of pregnancy and would have required all clinics to be graded as surgical centers, with all doctors required to have admitting privileges at hospitals."

Apparently, this would have closed most of the abortion clinics in the state.  (Why they would just close instead of bring themselves up to snuff is beyond me, but I don't want them here anyway so what do I care?)  And closed clinics would force women "to resort to dangerous and unsafe measures." (Why they would travel to Mexico or stick a coat hanger where they shouldn't instead of carrying the baby to term or hmmm, not having sex if they're not prepared to have a baby is beyond me, too, but obviously that's my close-minded bigotry and misogyny talking so pay no attention.)

A Texas senator staged a filibuster, trying to keep the vote from taking place.  They had to vote by midnight for this to go through.

She was fairly successful throughout the day.  Getting close to midnight, the other senators managed to stop the filibuster.  Much time was wasted in parliamentary procedure.  As they were taking the vote and creeping closer to midnight, people in the gallery started cheering and shouting.

These people:


The disruption cost precious minutes and prevented the vote.

Bill not voted on, whatever.  Millions of people will continue to be murdered every year regardless of what laws Texas passes.  (Would have been a nice step forward, though!)

What bothers me is that there is so little respect for life that we cheer and applaud the ability to freely commit homicide.

This is the world I must live in. 

It's a tough place to be.

As we say in my family, "huuuuhhhhhhhhhh."

And so I leave you with this:


"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Mail (get it?)

Dear Father in Heaven,

     Many people like to remark on how funny it is that I grew up with only brothers and now I'm raising only sons.  I think it's kind of funny myself.  I don't know what my future holds, but it's clear to me that I am meant to walk this life surrounded by fellas.  And for that I say- Thank you!

     Thank you for my dad.  Thank you for sending me where I would be raised in a family headed by someone who would show me what I can expect from you.  It's been said that children, especially daughters, pattern their relationship with you after their relationship with their earthly father.  Thank you for blessing me with a father who did not teach me to be scared of you.   He taught me by word and deed that you love me, that I can trust you, that no matter what I think I know about a situation- you are smarter than me and know better, that if something is important to me it is important to you, and that you will always do absolutely everything you can for me.

     Thank you for my husband.  Thank you for helping me find someone that I can respect and who respects me, someone who sacrifices so much of himself to provide for our family, someone who
made it possible for me to be a mother to four beautiful boys, someone who will be a fantastic example and leader for those boys, someone who forgives, someone who makes me smile even in the midst of hormonally-driven meltdowns, and someone who values my opinion.  And the fact that he's easy on the eyes is a brilliant bonus.

     Thank you for my amazing brothers.  Thank you for my incredible sons.  Thank you for my friends.  Thank you for all those awesome church leaders now and over the years. 

     Thank you for blessing me with a life that has proved to me the infinite value of a righteous man.  Thank you for blessing me with a life where I can be surrounded by the priesthood.  As someone who regularly dreams up the worst case scenario, I feel safe in this unpredictable world.  Thank you for blessing me with a life where I have be taught how to be a leader AND how to follow a righteous lead.  Thank you for blessing me with a life that has showed me the truth and joy that following that righteous lead doesn't mean I lose my identity.

     Guys are great and I'm so thankful to know so many of the top-notch out there.

                                                                                        Love,
                                                                                           Lindsey

Thank you

Yes, I missed Thankful Thursday on Thanksgiving.

But spending time with loved ones all weekend is much higher on the priority list than getting to my computer and writing a post.

And hey, I'm still full of gratitude.  And since I'm the main benefactor from this weekly endeavor of mine, I say my absence is totally justifiable.

Take that!

Anyway, I was just reading my posts from last December and had a moment that I thought I oughta share.

I seem to have forgotten that last holiday season was spent mightily sick.  Like, sicker-and-weaker-than-I've-been-in-years sick.  Most of the past Novs/Decs I've gotten something bad, but usually it's just my boys that get knocked out by viruses.  Last year, though, I got hit harder than I have in a while.  Stomach bug on Thanksgiving and the flu or a flu-like bug (which led to ear and sinus infections, of course) for weeks in December.

There was lots of "wo-is-us" in those posts, but also lots of recognition of tender mercies, too.

It was as I was reading one of the posts the thought came to me, "you're protected because of that."

In that moment, I thought of how little I understand of Heavenly Father's path for me.  I now readily believe it highly likely that I spent last holiday season so sick, along with my kiddos, so that this year (when we're getting ready to welcome a baby) we'd be stronger.  Though I didn't know it yet, Heavenly Father knew that this year I would be physically taxed creating a body for someone.  Getting sick is extra dangerous when pregnant.  Perhaps he was protecting me and the baby this year by training my body last year to fight off more viruses...Perhaps I'm off my rocker.  But I don't think so:)

And I realized that I have not been as thankful during times of sickness as I should be.

Sicknesses can teach us many things; like patience, trust, humility, service, charity, faith, and gratitude. 

But I realized...or more deeply understand tonight that each time we heal from an illness, our immune systems are stronger and that sometimes God uses that as a protection for us.

How many times has a previous sickness saved me major trouble/pain/heartache/etc. and I didn't even know it???

So thank you, Heavenly Father.  Thank you for protecting me and my loved ones.  And thank you for not getting upset with me when I whine and don't recognize what a great blessing you are giving me.

And now I just have to hope that he taught me that lesson tonight so I can more fully appreciate the next few weeks of health (knock on wood) and not so that I'm ready to get hit with another bout...

Hope you had a delightful Thanksgiving weekend!

Discouraged

I'm feeling discouraged.

I've been on my feet for longer than I ought much too often this week, been paying for it for a couple days now...and still staying on my feet too much.  Braxton Hicks and seizing hips are the norm.  And that's discouraging.

The morning sickness ache is coming back in waves.  That's discouraging.

Mopping hurts (in what world does the easy task of mopping hurt?!?!).  Walking up the stairs leaves me winded and blood pounding in my head.  That's discouraging.

I'm slow.  I limp everywhere.  I can't do much of anything with efficiency anymore.  There are so many tasks I want to accomplish at home and at the end of the day, despite all the effort and time on my feet, they mock me in their unfinished state.  That's discouraging.

In its relaxed state, my face takes on an I-don't-care-about-anyone-but-myself expression.  I catch myself looking like I hate life when I notice people looking at me and I hate giving off that impression.  I don't hate life and truly, I'm fine.  But I can't seem to remember to smile just because anymore.  That's discouraging.

And finally, the elections this week have made it clear that America will never again be what it was nor what it was intended to be.  And that's very discouraging.

It occurred to me late Tuesday evening that the growing majority of American people remind me eerily of the members of the LDS church who want to change the Church and/or doctrine to better suit their wants.

I just don't understand why there are people who want to be part of an organization that is founded on things they vehemently disagree with.

If one thinks practicing homosexuality is fine or wants women ordained to the priesthood, why is one claiming membership to a church which so clearly states the opposite? 

I don't get it. 

But this is what I see is happening in my church.  And this is what I see is happening in my country.

The United States of America is populated by a majority that wants to change it. 

I don't get it! 

If one thinks that the federal government should control the states and give people everything they need just because they exist, why is one in the USA?  There are so many places in the world where the government does just that.  Why don't they go live the way they want to and leave my country be?  Why must they insist on forcing that change here?  Where am I left to live the way I want to once they succeed in changing America into just another bankrupt government.

Yep.  I'm discouraged.

But there is something that I take heart in since that realization on Tuesday.  Though it is likely that the majority will get the change they want here in America- try as they may, the like-minded members of my church will not.

I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  A church solidly founded on the gospel of Jesus Christ.  A gospel that has never and will never change.

No matter the amount of signed petitions delivered to Church Headquarters.  No matter the dissenting speeches made from pulpits, in classes, on blogs, or among neighbors.  No matter the immature mocking (or if it comes to it, persecution).  No matter the amount of people who decide to leave the membership and devote their lives to anti-Mormonism.

You can't change the gospel of Jesus Christ.  And you can't change His church.

I am so grateful for that immovable foundation in my life.  I am so thankful that I can trust in that.

And I'm grateful that even though I keep running into brick walls as far as my physical capabilities go versus my responsibilities and desires, life is currently simple enough that I can still catch some time with my feet up a few times a day. 

I love my helpful sons (even though 90% of the time their help is accompanied by whines:)).  I love my supportive husband.  I love my body for not completely giving out on me.  I'm thankful for a van to get my family places too far to walk.  I'm grateful for a lovely home that's serving us so well.  I'm grateful for my dishwasher.  I'm thankful for uneventful nights.  I'm thankful for the opportunity and priviledge to vote.  And I'm thankful for my membership in the Church.

What's a little discouragement now and then?  It's a good life.

What are you thankful for?

Parenthood

It's tough being a parent. 

My heart must be a muscular mess after all the squashing, bursting, wrenching, swelling, stopping, breaking, and general emotional gymnastics motherhood has put it through.

The latest major incident to my heart came this past Tuesday.  My little Alligator fell off the swing and busted the back of his head open.  Thankfully, the bleeding slowed pretty quickly and I was able to get everyone to the doctor without incident. 

Though not the first time witnessing my child getting stitches, this was the first time any of them has had the numbing shots.  In the past, that cool gel stuff has been sufficient.

Watching my son endure such intense pain and trusting the adults so much that he lay still through the ordeal was heart-breaking. 

There was my son going through something so painful.  I knew that in just a few minutes the pain would be gone and then the steps could be taken to make sure his skin healed properly and quickly.  In the long run, this was the very best thing for him even though it had to hurt so much. 

I knew that.  I knew it was best for him. I knew that the pain would soon be gone. 

But he didn't.

Watching him cry and shake while I tried to assure him that he would soon feel so much better and that it was almost over made all my insides feel heavy.  Even though I knew everything would be okay very soon, I was ready to cry right along with him.

And even now, days later, when I think of what he did after they stopped numbing him, I get a bit choked up.  I was kneeling next to him and he turned his little head toward me and locked his sad eyes so full of tears on mine and in a hurt little voice he simply said, "That hurt."

Knife to the heart.

Oddly enough (or not), one of the first things that ran through my head in those heart-breaking moments was how hard it must be to be Heavenly Father.  I know that he knows what is best for each of us.  I now also know more firmly that he hurts for us and with us when we're struggling through our trials. I know he's not up there saying, "Quit yer belly-achin'; this'll do you good."  He doesn't like us being in any kind of pain any more than we do.  And I can't imagine all the heartache he endures watching us. 

It's tough being a parent.

I'm thankful my son is healing well.  I'm thankful his injuries weren't any worse.  I'm thankful he still trusts me after taking him to the doctor.  I'm thankful for the crazy journey motherhood has put me on.  And I'm thankful for a loving Heavenly Father.

What are you thankful for today?

"The dearest day in all the year"

For this installment of Thankful Thursday, I'd like to share a blessing of hope I've been given in small installments over the past few months.  Little reminders of things to look forward to and have hope in for this coming December.  I can't express it as well as I would like, but here's my attempt:

While pregnant with Jonz and after he was born, I realized there are better times of the year than others to have a baby.

Jonz arrival was perfectly timed.  I got pregnant at the end of the summer after a mere two months of trying (I know what a huge blessing that is).  I was still in school and soon found that my due date would be the day after finals ended for winter semester.  Perfect.

Not being pregnant during the hot summer months?  Fantastic.
Having a spring baby and not worrying about him freezing or getting RSV?  Awesome.
No holidays to contend with or miss out of the fun?  Great.

I decided that I really liked spring babies and that the months of April-June were probably the best time of year to give birth.  That led to deciding which time of year would be the worst- December, of course.  A December baby mean pregnant in the summer, major restrictions on Christmas fun with others, and stressing about sickness and RSV.  It also means poor kiddo will feel jipped out of birthday fun as everyone is excited about Christmas and has little attention for another party or resources for another present.

I was so concerned that December was just a mean time to have a baby, for mom, child, family, and friends, that I calculated possible birthdates while we tried for seven long months to conceive the second time.  I was just about to tell Bret that we were done trying for a couple months, to avoid having a baby in December, when we found out I was pregnant.

Al and Goose were not so well timed as Jonz.  They were due December 1st.  I decided that was okay.  Far away enough from Christmas and Thanksgiving that we'd be able to make the best of it.  The boys arrived three weeks early, two weeks before our anniversary and Thanksgiving, were just six weeks old at Christmas (which passed us in a blur of sleepy holidary merriment), and both were taken down by RSV by two months of age.

Yay;)

I was now beyond certain that I never wanted to have a baby in the month of December; November was crazy enough.

Years later, prayers were answered and we started trying for another baby.  I was sure that after waiting so long for an answer that the heavenly direction meant we would get pregnant as soon as we started trying and thought we'd have a baby by the end of October or early November.

Silly Lindsey.

Two failed cycles later I was confused, but sort of humbled (you know, as much as I ever get).  Painful symptoms soon had me sure I was on the cusp of failed cycle #3.  So sure, in fact, that I told my husband how disappointed I was that there would be yet more waiting...Until I remembered December. 

"Whew!  What a close break.  We'd have had a Christmastime baby if we'd been successful this month."

...Only what I'd thought was a rough case of pms turned out to be pregnancy symptoms.

In the excitement of being newly pregnant, I pushed December out of my mind.  A month in, Bret and I got the calendar down and counted 40 weeks...and landed on December 24th. 

Oh. my.

A couple weeks later I called the doctor to make an appointment and was told my due date was not the 24th, but the 25th.

An ultrasound in July confirmed- due date is December 25, 2012.

Yes sir, people- God has quite a sense of humor.

I admit- I haven't been thrilled about the timing of this little one's arrival.  But I keep getting little pieces of hope that brighten me up more and more.

There is a perk to having c-sections for me.  I'm not allowed to go into labor so the doctor is planning on taking the baby out at 39 weeks.  Meaning that not only will this baby be born before Christmas day, but barring complications (knock on wood-cross fingers-pray, pray, pray) we'll all be out of the hospital and home for Christmas.

I have worried a lot about being able to make this a happy holiday season for my family.   I may not be able to bake as much, but I can still bake some tasty, traditional treats.  And there's not much I enjoy more than a December evening watching a Christmas movie with my family.  I should still be able to waddle about and help pick out a Christmas tree.  I can place our loved decorations around our home.  I can get all the shopping done before Thanksgiving...hopefully.  We can still read stories and sing songs every night.  And I can fill our home with the wonderful sounds of the season, hour after hour.  I can even still take care of the inevitable sicknesses we'll have (pleeeeeeease don't let us get something horrible this year!). 

We'll still have a lovely Christmas.

I'm actually excited for the hospital experience this time, too.

Well...you know, except for the i.v., the blood draws, the being separated from Bret during the most anxious time pre-surgery, the powerful drugs, the fire-like pain, the inability to move without said pain, trying to figure out nursing with my brand new crying machine in the middle of the night, and having an intern wake me up to check my vitals five minutes after I finally manage to fall asleep.

Except for all that, I AM looking forward to the hospital.  I am better prepared to face it this time.  There will probably be Christmas decorations.  Everyone is nicer so close to Christmas (which means nurses will be more patient, right???:))  And I'll finally know who this little one is!  Plus, with three kiddos, I expect that Bret's time off those first few days will be mostly taken up caring for the boys at home.  Before, I needed/required/begged him to stay with me; even making him try to sleep on those uncomfortable fold out chairs.  I am prepared to be alone this time around.  So much so, that I'm actually excited for it.  Think of all the alone time:)  I plan on packing my laptop and some of my favorite Christmas movies.  I will cuddle a new baby, listen to some of my favorite music, watch some happy movies, enjoy some regular chunks of solitude, and I think I may even try to make myself look presentable this time around. 

My past two experiences, I have at least managed to shower in the hospital.  But it took so much out of me that I would get right back into bed, wet hair and all.  Saline and pregnancy swollen face, red  and puffy eyes from lack of sleep, zero make-up, and air-dried hair (i.e. my many cowlicks left to roam free)= pretty, pretty girl.  I am determined to at least try to look better this time around.  Even if it means I just beg my mom to do my hair:) 

But if perhaps I am not remembering precisely how difficult it is to raise one's arms to one's head and face after abdominal surgery and I am yet again shocked and drained by it- no cameras are allowed to be pointed at me.  At. all.  Just sos ya know.

 

There will be some special circumstances to worry about with this Christmastime birth, some for many years to come.  But I have hope that this will be an enjoyable holiday season.

 

It is, after all, the most wonderful time of the year. 

 

Our family will be getting an eternal gift this year in a new family member.  And during a season where many people are thinking more on the greatest gift we've all ever received, to boot. 

 

So stayed tuned.  It's gonna be awesome:)



Story time

Today I am thankful to finally tell a bit of a story.

A story that spans more than four years.

It started when Al and Goose were just a few days old.  I remember sitting in the rocking chair and telling God, "That's it.  I'm done.  I'm never doing this again.  I can't do it now, no way I'm going to do it again.  I don't care what you say, we are never having any more babies."

In the coming months as I matured, survived, learned, and felt stronger, I repented of such thoughts.  And though terrified of the idea of living through another pregnancy-cesarean-newborn season, I was willing to...but only if we received a divine manifestation from heaven that that is what our family was supposed to do.  Like, angelic visits level of manifestation (okay, not that big; but something definitely stronger than the previous times).

My doctor recommended waiting "two or three years" before trying to get pregnant again to give my uterus time to heal from carrying twins and having a c-section.  I was more than willing and when two years rolled around I was determined that three was better and I'd still wait for unsollicited direction from God.  Three years came and went and I began to wonder if I was being selfish and untrusting.  I waffled for a few months before finally asking Heavenly Father for the courage to ask what the future was for our family.  Because honestly, I didn't want to hear either answer.  I was scared at the prospect of having more children and I was sad about the possibility that we were done.

It took a long time to build up the courage to ask that question, but as the months went by with no answer I became frustrated.  I just needed to know one way or the other. 

For some reason, we weren't ready for an answer.  It wasn't until we took a leap of faith and turned down a job offer that Bret received the guidance we were rarely asking for anymore.

Bret.  The one who said he'd never ever be ready again and just to tell him when I had an answer.  That guy.  The answer came to him. (I'm not jealous...;))

Bret had called me earlier in the day to tell me that the job had indeed been offered and he had turned it down like we'd concluded to the previous evening.  It wasn't easy, but I was proud of him.

I was super confused when he called me that afternoon and told me with a bit of surprise in his voice that we needed to go to the temple.  That night.  I was thinking that he'd gotten a call back asking him to reconsider a better offer and now he was unsure of the answer he'd gotten the night before.  As I stuttered questions trying to clarify what was going on he shocked the heck outta me by saying he'd been weight lifting on his lunch break when he'd been prompted that it was time for us to move forward.

That's when I had to sit down. 

For having prayed for an answer for a long time, we were both pretty shocked to be faced with an answer.

A few small miracles led to us being able to get to the temple that night.  It was a beautiful experience that I'm keeping close to the heart.

That was back in the beginning of February of this year.  It's now the beginning of August.  And here's where we are now:

"Yes sir, that's my baby."

Half way there to meeting the newest member of our family:)

There's much more I want to share, but I'll end this mammoth post by saying I'm thankful for life, for forgiveness, for temples, for faith, for my boys, for this new baby, for family, for prayer, for a patient Father in heaven, and for my wonderful husband.

What are you thankful for today?



Answered prayers

Jonz started school this week.

This entire homeschool-to-public-school adventure has been filled with guidance, tender mercies, small miracles, and confirmation.

We have been led to a path we weren't even really considering, to a specific school, and to a specific teacher.  The right way just set itself in front of us with large signs that read, "this way!"  Though I admit...I'm not the best sign reader;)  The only hiccup came in selecting a track assignment.  Bret and I discussed and looked at the calendar and picked what we thought was best.  Later though, it became clear to me that that wasn't the place for Jonzy.  After stewing over it for a couple weeks, I submitted a track change request and wouldn't you know it- they were able to make the change for us.

The whole process from homeschool to track change happened in fairly steady fashion from the beginning of April up until the middle of June.

Then, all there was to do was get him outfitted and wait for school to actually start.

As the weeks went on and school got closer, I started to question whether this was really what we were supposed to do.  Perhaps I'd misunderstood the promptings...I got help over these weeks: reminders of all that happened on the path to getting him into school, peace when I asked-yet again-if we were on the right path, etc.  But Doubt and I are old pals and I have a hard time shutting him up.  And then Jonz started to show his doubts too.  Excitement gave way to, "Mommy, I can't go to school because I'll miss you all day."  Or, "...because I won't make any friends," or, "...because I want to watch a movie," etc. etc.  Mostly I understood this was just him being nervous and once he received more explanation and got used to this routine that he'd be fine.  But Doubt snuck in thoughts of, "maaaaaaaybe we're not supposed to do this..."

And so I prayed. 

The few times that despair threatened to take over at the prospect of sending my sweet and innocent boy out into the world with all its wolves, I prayed for peace and more confirmation that he was supposed to be going to school and that he would be protected (physically and spiritually).  For the most part, that peace has stayed with me since April.  It was just the times like after a family home evening lesson about pornography that doubt started to gain strength over the peace and extra prayer was needed to bring it back.

Despite all the inspirations and events that led up to the first day of school, I knew I needed something more in the week preceding. 

You know me- I cry.  Strike that.  I blubber.  It's my physical response to emotion, hormones, and seemingly random things as well.

I did not want to be a sobbing mess.  I knew it would not be good for Jonz.  He needed to see a confident and happy mom as he stepped off into the great unknown.  And as I pondered this fear of scaring my son with my tears a thought occured to me.  Two birds, one stone.

I started praying for something very specific.  I prayed that I would be blessed with peace and strength on that first day of school.  And that that would not only be felt, but also be manifested in a lack of tears.  As someone who cries even when at peace, I knew that if I was able to make it through this situation without tears (even though all physical and emotional factors were combined against me) that it would only be because of divine intervention. 

And so I asked that He please intervene and confirm to me that we were doing precisely what we are supposed to by blessing me with peace and the strength to not cry.

I'm here to tell you, He answered that prayer and then some...and then some more.

Not only did I not cry at all about this since that first prayer- I didn't cry when I hugged my firstborn good-bye that morning. I didn't cry when I saw how nervous and flustered Jonz was trying to figure out whether to follow the line of kids or stay with his teacher (I caught his eye and gave him a smile and thumbs up.  Then he seemed to remember that we'd talked about asking his teacher what to do if he ever didn't understand what was going on because he walked right up to her and got directions.). I didn't cry when I found after being in the office that the school was outside for an assembly and I was blessed to see my boy dancing to the music while in line and realized God gave me the opportunity to see that Jonz was just fine and already comfortable in this new situation.  I didn't cry when I drove away from the school. I didn't cry when Al suddenly realized what was going on and said, "Mom!  Jonzy's not in our car!" I didn't cry when I fleetingly lamented twice during the day that he wasn't under my watchful care but some strangers' instead. I didn't cry!

Seriously, folks!  I didn't cry all day long.  Me!  The crier.  Lindsey did not shed a single tear.  No constricted throat, no puffy eyes, no blotchy face, nooooooo tears.

I wish I could express to you how amazing this actually is.  But honestly, I don't think anyone but me can truly comprehend how incredible of a feat this is.  Perhaps those close to me understand, but even they don't know how often I battle the salty discharge.  And even beyond the lack of tears, I felt right all day.  This is right.  Jonz is on the path that will suit him best.  Right, peace, right.  Even my nagging headaches and back pain were gone all day!  For our family, for now: This. Is. Right.

And as I see this post has gotten interminably long, I'll end it for you.

I'm thankful for all the guidance and blessings received as my family travels this new road.  I am thankful for answered prayers. I'm thankful for a Father in heaven who answered my prayers in such a bountiful, clear, and intensely personal way.  I'm thankful He is ever patient with my weakness.  I'm thankful for a strong, good, and courageous seven year old that I am blessed to call my son. 

What are you thankful for today?

Thankful Thursday

It's Thursday!

And a strange one to be sure.

There's a bunch of blankety-blank going on in life and by all accounts I should be quite unhappy, have high blood pressure, and feel completely worn out.

Life stinks, I'm tired, my kids are sick (and I don't feel so hot myself), etc. etc. etc.

It's quite clear that I am being sustained. For the first time in a long time I feel like I have sufficient faith and can "shoulder the burden." (knock on wood;))

Every time the doubts and fears thoughts start- they stop and I think, "no...it'll be okay. Everything will be okay."

This doesn't take away all the frustration or worry or whatever. But wow does it make a world of difference in my attitude.

I'm thankful for faith. For hope. For marriage.

Seriously, how cool is marriage?! A relationship of, among so many other things, balance. Give and take, push and pull, support and lean. I am so thankful to be on the teeter-totter with Bret.

And I'm also very thankful that I can listen to prophets speak in just two days. And for the technology that allows me to listen in the comfort of my home with my loud boys:)

Life is good.

Life is hard.

But life is really, really good:)

What are you thankful for today?

P.S. There was a moment this afternoon. Al came up to me and said, "Mommy, I need to sit with someone. Can I sit with you?" Without looking at him or breaking stride in my current task I said, "Just let me finish this and I'll sit with you." Al looks up with sad eyes and says, "But Moooooom...why?" (yes it was whiny, but can you blame the kid?) I looked back at him and thought, "Ummm, well...I don't have a good answer for that."

So I picked him up and we sat for a while and I relished his warmth and thought how lucky I am to have this stage of life and that my boys still like to sit with me.

And to think, I almost missed the moment! Learn from me- slow down and sit with your kids:)

Get excited

No really- get excited.

The next two weekends are going to be awesome!

We've got a set of countdown blocks in our kitchen. It's currently set to five days.

FIVE days until General Conference!

We are crazy excited. Yes, even the boys.

I mean, how many people around the world can say that they've listened to a prophet?




General Conference is a fantastic weekend of amazing messages and reminders, family gatherings, food, and oodles of teaching moments for all involved.

Yes. We are VERY excited!

And as soon as Conference is over we switch our countdown to a mere six days for the next weekend.

And what happens next weekend?

Why, it's only the best holiday of the year when we mark the resurrection of the Savior.

Easter!!!!

"Death is conquered, man is free- Christ has won the victory!"

And after Easter we switch the countdown to mark the impending arrival of my oldest's birthday.

It sure is a wonderful time of year:)

Thankful Thursday

For a few years I've really been working on gratitude and maintaining a relationship with God always so I'm not just feeling close to him when times are hard, as has been my habit in the past.

And I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job (oh come on, let me brag about one of the few things I feel like I've got a handle on in life!;)).

And yet...what is it about struggle? No matter how tight I feel with God, I can't seem to feel as close to and dependent on him when life is great as I do when I'm struggling through something.

My family and I have been riding high for a few weeks.

Lingering questions and issues were drowned out as we've been enjoying life to the limit lately.

We spent a fantastic week together on a magical vacation. I loved it! All through planning for it, before we left, while we were gone, and when we got back, I thanked Heavenly Father for the flood of blessings making it possible for us to go, for the flood of blessings while we were gone, and for the fantastic memories we have now.

I felt very close to God.

Then, on the day we were coming home, we got word that our brand new niece was in the NICU. Over the next few days we waited for test results and updates, fasted, and prayed. She's probably going to go home just fine in a few more days:)

There's a few other struggles coming to head again, but as they involve my husband's employment I'm not going to put it on the internet.

Any guesses where I'm going with this?

Weeks of riding high and feeling close to God. A few days of rough waters and feeling even closer to God.

Seriously, what is it about struggling that makes it possible to be so much closer to God?

I'm thankful that I feel like my relationship with God is almost always awesome. And I am thankful for the results of working through trials and that that relationship gets even tighter because of them.

What are you thankful for today?