Embracing my femininity

I'm taking part in TOFW's shoe party! (and doubling it up for Thankful Thursday...tricksy, tricksy)

And I can't believe I've come this far.

A shoe party.

Me.

I know.

I've been surrounded by men and boys for most of my life.

Growing up there was my dad, my mom, my three brothers, and me.

Now there's even less female influence in the house than I'm used to. There's my husband, my three sons...and me.

Me.

The lone woman in the house.

The only regular example of what women are and should be that my young sons have.

No pressure, Linds.

Growing up in such an environment, I wasn't what you'd call a girly-girl. Sure I've always loved being female and I definitely wouldn't call myself a tomboy. But I wasn't going to go out of my way to do girly things if it made me too different from my brothers.

My poor mother tried to lay that foundation when I was younger, but by the time I hit my teen years I think I had inadvertently taken a sledge hammer to that feminine foundation.

Why do my hair every day before school when I could sleep 20 more minutes and throw it in a ponytail?

Why paint my face with make-up that I'd have to worry if it still looked alright countless times throughout the day?

Why wear bright colors I'd have to wash all the time when blues, greens, etc. all would let me get at least two wears before needing a wash?

Why wear a dress and restrict my movement and comfort when I could wear jeans and be free to run, jump, and slouch on the couch?

Why buy that cute pair of shoes that would go with just a few outfits when I could buy a pair of tennis shoes to wear with everything?

That's where I was for many a year. Enjoying my womanhood, but not taking full advantage of it and thinking myself extremely practical.

One dress, two skirts (denim and khaki), one pair of dress shoes, mascara, eyeliner, a blow-dryer, one hair brush, and a plethora of hair elastics were all I had that showed there was any major difference between me and the rest of the fellas in the house.

These are the kind of shoes I'd dress up in for everyday things, when tennis shoes were just too casual:

Don't laugh. I still like them:)

And then, the changes started to happen a couple years ago.

Maybe it's because I began to subconsciously realized that, like I mentioned earlier, I am the one with biggest influence on how my boys see women. Among other things, I want them to understand that girls like to be pretty and elegant, and that we can also run around and be goofy.

Maybe it's because I have been getting less outside estrogen influence and subconsciously try to give myself my own fix by doing something girly.

Maybe it's because my boys are old enough to not need my c.o.n.s.t.a.n.t. attention and I can indulge in these things.

Maybe it's a combination of all that and more...

It started with a skirt.

Mom gifted me a skirt that flared a bit at the bottom (see? She didn't give up:)) and suddenly I was enjoying twirling on Sundays as much as a five year old girl.

Then, I actually learned how to apply eyeshadow after a Mary Kay party.

The biggest changes have come since last January. And the catalyst- a pair of shoes.

Boots, that is. These boots.
Are they practical? No! Are they hard to walk in? Yes! Do they hurt my feet if I wear them too long? YES! But. I. LOVE. them! I will be very sad when they wear out. I wear them until my feet hurt or I have to be moving around more quickly than they'll let me.

I can't get over the giddyness that I feel when I wear these boots. I feel so feminine when I wear them. I can't describe it better than that. It's a feeling I used to scoff at, but that I've come to love.

This last year I also discovered that my hair will curl and there are lots of ways to make it shiny, smooth, etc.

Now there's a curling iron, flat iron, various hair products, eyeshadows, blushes, lip glosses (I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll ever embrace lipstick;)), etc. to keep my blow dryer company.

My closet contains amounts of skirts, dresses, and pink and purple tops that teenage Lindsey would never have thought possible. I even own a couple pairs of tights now (deep breaths. don't go fainting on me now).

And my go to/everyday shoes?

Yes, folks. There's pink on those shoes.

I don't do myself up every single day. I still enjoy my ponytails and jeans and tshirts. But I find there are many days when I want to wear a dress or a skirt, just because. I like the "alone" time of styling my hair and "painting my face" while my boys make machine gun noises and growl at each other while running between the rooms of the house. And if I can find an excuse to wear a skirt and those boots, I'll take it:)

I like the way I feel so feminine these days.

I am so thankful to be a woman. I am so thankful for the things I've learned about being female in these last few years. Not only for the physical and material aspects of "pretty" that I can indulge in. But for the spiritual aspects as well. I love femininity!

I love being a woman!

It's time for FFF

Feeling Fulfilled Friday has arrived again!

And this week...hmmmm...

I've come to the conclusion that patience is my most fulfilling attribute.

When I'm on top of the patience game, boy do I feel fulfilled and like I can do this thing called motherhood with some degree of success.

When I struggle with patience, it seems that the fulfillment found by doing other things found on my list is fleeting at best.

I have discovered that patience is the hinge on which all this fulfillment business swings for me.

I knocked all sorts of things off my list this week. And it felt great to get those things done and experienced. But at the end of the day, I am still left feeling like hitting my head against the wall while chanting failure, failure, failure with each smack. My patience fuse has been so short this week...pretty much for two weeks.

I'll keep working toward fulfillment by doing the things I feel fulfilled doing, but I think to get that lasting feeling I'm going to have to focus mostly on patience.

And as my son screams behind me, I'm not quite sure I can do this...but if I couldn't, I wouldn't be here would I?;)

Don't forget to check out MamaBlogga for more FFF fun.

What is it with moms and lists?

Why does making a list make me feel like I'm better organized? What is it about seeing things in list form that helps goals seem more attainable? Hmmmm....

It's not the full list, but here are some things that make me tick; that really make me feel fulfilled:

Lindsey's To Do Fulfill List

-Swallow the desire to yell and successfully use a quiet voice
-A clean kitchen (whether I was the one who cleaned or not;))
-Clean laundry folded neatly in drawers
-Prepare and enjoy a healthy meal with my family
-Read for fun at the end of a productive day
-Shower and girl up;)
-Wake up before boys, study scriptures and pray, pray, pray!
-Help Jonzy learn about someone/something in the scriptures and figuratively jump for joy when he mentions it at another time
-Choose to do/not do something that results in kicking Satan and his minions further from our home and family
-Not just teach, but enjoy school time
-Mop
-Get everyone out of pajamas by 10 am
-Memorize a verse from a hymn
-Continue in consistency; they'll learn to say please eventually!

I don't cross everything off my list everyday, but it's a grand start I think:)

Check out MamaBlogga's list, too.

Finding fulfillment-by working for it!

Check this out!


feel fulfilled in motherhood with MamaBlogga

MamaBlogga's idea is to make a plan at the beginning of the week to work on those things that make you feel fulfilled. Then we can look back on Friday and see how we've done and where we can do better.

I'm in!

Are you?

It's not about me me ME

Warning: this is a very very long post, but worth the time in my opinion:))

For much of last year and so far this year, I've been experiencing this on-going epiphany about life and how motherhood (and fatherhood) fits in it so nicely.

It started out when I attended a Q&A with a female leader of my church, Sister Beck. One woman asked, "What would you say to the young mothers who go to church, but don't really go to church because they're in the halls with babies?" The answer was, "At this season of your life, you don't go to church for you. You go to teach your children the patterns of the gospel."

That was a strange experience for me- hit me like a ton of bricks and at the same time lifted this huge weight off my shoulders and mind.

Last summer I was blessed with another dose of this epiphany. I was hanging from the end of my rope with my four year old and 20 month old twins. By 8 o’clock in the morning I was already continually pleading with Heavenly Father to help me be patient. I sat down on the couch with my chin on my hands and was suddenly struck by how much I was concentrating on me: I just want the screaming to stop. Why can’t I have a moment of peace? When do I get to eat breakfast? I just want to lock myself in a room and read a book today, etc. I realized (for the thousandth time- yet it hit home more this time) that motherhood is not about me. I desperately want my sons to grow up into physically, mentally, and spiritually sound men. I constantly fear that something I do or don’t do as a mother will permanently harm them in one or all of those areas.

I thought of that lesson I learned from Sister Beck again and changed it to fit the situation. I’m not living life right now for me. My life right now (and for the foreseeable future) is to live for my family. Motherhood requires sacrifice. If I was going to be making innumerable sacrifices as a mother what was the point of trying to hold on to any of my selfish (don't read that with the bad connotation, think more literally: self-ish) desires; of sometimes sacrificing and sometimes not? I might as well make this simple and give all of myself up. So I got back up and went back to work determined not to think about what I wanted. The rest of the day went so much better! The day wasn't easy in the least, but I was able to go about things more cheerfully when I wasn't thinking about what I wanted for myself or how the boys kept interrupting me.

I'm sure this is hard for some to understand. And I'm sure some people might read this and think I'm an idiot, that I've lost myself and become a prisoner to my family, and/or that I'm wasting my talents. But really, honestly, truly I feel so free when I am focused on this perspective and choosing to put my family before me. I'm happier. I'm more fulfilled. I feel like I'm being more impactful in the world and leaving a better, longer-lasting mark; whether the world, or even my family, knows it or not.

I've realized that motherhood is not about me. BUT, by losing myself in this work for my children and my husband, I will be formed into the daughter my Heavenly Father knows I can be; someone who knows how to serve and to work. The things I learn as a mother and the person I become as I experience these years of motherhood will help to serve others and shape who I am even after my children are grown. If I put all of myself into this work, I am much more likely to get what I want more than anything else- an eternal family.

The most recent part of this epiphany came just a few days ago. I was reading a forum titled "stay at home moms versus working moms" (why is it always versus?!? Are we at war here?? sheesh. I'm thinking of doing another post on this subject, but unsure of delving into such a touchy subject...). I was becoming sickened by the judgements being passed, despite not reading anything that I haven't heard before, and then read: "It's the SAHM's who whine about never getting any help from their husbands (who are out working a real job), or never leaving the house...those are the ones who really bother me!"

Yes, the "real job" thing gets under my skin. But what struck me here was the thought that Bret doesn't go to work for himself. He isn't defined by his job. He goes to work to earn money for our family and then comes back to his life at home. I spend my days giving of myself to my family at home. Bret spends his days giving of himself to his family at work. Motherhood is not about me. Fatherhood is not about him.

LIFE is not about individuals.

That thought has led to the beginnings of understanding this seemingly contradictory idea. I am here on this earth for myself; to have a body and to get back to my Heavenly Father. But if I want to get back I can't act in my own self interest. I have to learn to give up the one thing that is truly mine: my agency, my ability to choose for myself. I have to learn to submit my will to His.

What in the world is going to teach me that principle better than motherhood? Where else will I find such a rich opportunity to practice giving up my selfish (remember, literally:)) desires? Of course, there are plenty of other opportunities in this life to practice this principle- marriage, any family relationship, friendship, church service, etc. After all, if this is what we're all supposed to learn there are going to be many ways to be taught. Not everyone can be a mother, especially men:) And I like to think that I'm taking advantage of those opportunities, too. But the greatest lessons for me come from motherhood; from the day to day, hour by hour, moment by moment decisions to live for something bigger than me.

Now that I understand this better, you would think that I've become this incredible mother who is constantly happy. But such is not the case. I've also learned that understanding is easier than application:)

And the more I learn about the value of motherhood, the more it saddens me to know there are so many others who can't see it.

I read this in a recent interview of a contemporary author:

Interviewer: You tell a story in the book that is pivotal for you, about your grandmother. She was born with a cleft palate and thought to be unmarriageable, so she got an education and took care of herself, one day rewarding herself with a $20 fur-trimmed, wine-colored coat, which she adored. Eventually she does marry. And when she gives birth to her first daughter, she cuts up the coat to make something for the child.

I thought, "What beautiful symbolism of motherhood!" and read further:

Author: That's the story of motherhood, in a large way. You take the thing that is most precious to you, and you cut it up and give it to somebody else who you love more than you love the thing....

Me: "Holy insight, Batman! She's got it! Someone in the "real world" understands what motherhood is about! YAAAAAY!"

And then. This:

Author:..And we tend to idealize that, and I'm not sure we should. Because the sacrifice that it symbolizes is also huge. Her marriage and her seven children, in a life of constant struggle and deprivation — it was heavy. And that beautiful mind, that beautiful intellect, that exquisite sense of curiosity and exploration, was gone.

Me: "No-ho-ho-hooooooo!"



Giving of oneself completely does not sacrifice one's worth! It allows us to be part of something so much more amazing and so much more beautiful than we could ever be by ourselves.

I felt better when I read a friend's facebook status later in the day. I think it sums things up quite nicely. It's a quote by that infamous and brilliant, Unknown.

“...Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become.”

Getting creative...with just a hint of plagiarism

President Uchtdorf, second counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, gave a talk back in October that I loved. Here are a couple quotes from it that I especially loved.

"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before."

"...remember that you are spirit daughters of the most creative Being in the universe."

With that in mind, and the need to freshen up our home to sell, I took the opportunity to do a few things I'd always wanted to do but was a little too nervous to commit the time or money to for fear of failure. I planted flower gardens and I arranged flowers (fake ones) for display in the house.

I suppose what I've done may have a bit of plagiarism to it. First of all the flowers were God's design, not mine. He create the real ones and somebody else copied Him in creating the fake ones. But since I took the last step in the creation process and I'm doing my best to keep maintain the flowers outside, I'd like to say I'm slightly involved in the creative process:)

Here are the geraniums, which are bigger now but still haven't bloomed...Don't give up hope yet!


This is the flower bed just behind the house. There are many more blooms now and the Shasta daisies are just about ready to pop (and I'm slightly embarrassed that I'm extremely excited for when they do).

Here's the back flower bed. It also has more blooms now and I'm beginning to ease up on the worry that I'm going to kill off all these beautiful plants.

This is the front flower bed, which is surprising me by not blooming much despite being the bed that gets the best sun everyday...but at least they're still alive:)

Bret painting and attached these window boxes to the house. They're overflowing with white petunias now that are gorgeous and the purple petunias are fighting valiantly for some space, too.

This beautiful red petunia was my very first bloomer. I was so excited that something I planted actually bloomed that I took a picture:)

And here are a couple examples of the fake flowers inside. Sure the ones on the table are for Easter, but I think I can get away with them at least through the rest of spring and maybe even into the summer months...what do you think? Am I breaking rules of indoor flower etiquette?

It's been lots of fun using some inate creative talents to do some new things and improve our house at the same time.

President Uchtdorf was right. "As spirit daughters of our Heavenly Father, happiness is [our] heritage."

Happy Memorial Day tomorrow!

Thankful Thursday

I'm oh-so-thankful today for the opportunity to be home with my boys. Yesterday I was trying to teach Al some more signs. We were working on "Mommy" at this particular time. He was concentrating very hard, pointing to his chin and saying, "muh. muh. muh." Then it became a game. He could tell that I was excited at what he was doing. He'd point to his chin, say, "muh," and laugh at his hilariousness. And then he stopped playing, looked right in my eyes, and in the sweetest little voice said, "mama," followed by a big smile.

Thankfully, I was able to clean up my melted heart before anyone slipped.

Moments like that just about make me explode with joy. Being able to be home with them exponentially increases my odds of experience such moments. I am lucky lucky lucky and incredibly blessed!

Thaaaankful Thursday, the San Francisco treat!

What in the world?! It's Thursday and I'm actually posting for Thankful Thursday! Yippee-skippy.

This fateful Thursday I am thankful for the stage of life that I am in. It's often difficult to not think, "I can't wait until the boys are old enough to----" or "I wish ----- was over." For a couple of days I haven't thought any of that and it's been very liberating. Bret and I are not in school. I get to be home with our boys. And those boys: so much fun! So. Much. Work. But they are so sweet, so cute, and so able to give me joy! I love their smiles, giggles, gibberish from the little guys and nonsense sentences from J, their expressive faces, kisses and hugs, their ability to forgive so easily and love so much, their soft cheeks, their heads on my shoulder, and the way they bring novelty and discovery into our home every single day.

This is quite the time of life! I hope I can enjoy every minute possible because I know I'll miss this stage when it's over.

Feel free to hop on the Thankful Thursday train; it's an enjoyable ride:)