firsts

I remember disliking the first day of school for as long as I can remember.  Even into college, the beginning of a new semester would nearly always produce an overwhelming and just bad day.  It took some time to adjust to a new teacher, new students, new assignments, new ways of doing things. Eventually it became normal...and great, even.

This back-to-school season, as I sent all three of my babies off to school, I felt the same old feelings that I used to feel.  This is hard.  This does not feel good.  I waited and waited for those feelings to adjust into a comfortable sense of normalcy.  It took a long time.  I've pondered why this was, and realized that this year's firsts are probably no different than what next year's will feel like.  And the year after that.  And the year after that.  And you can see how this is going to go.

Sometimes I write things here that I hope to learn.  I may present them in a way that suggests that I have already learned it, but that's not always the case.  Sometimes I write things like "I have decided to stop longing for my children to stay little and feeling depressed when they hit milestones that remind me that they're growing up, and instead, enjoy life right NOW.  Enjoy these moments and don't look back."  See- something like that I would write in hopes that me declaring it here will somehow help me to really change to that way of thinking.  Because guess what?  That is not how I feel at all.  I do feel kind of depressed when they hit milestones.  I enjoy them, yes, but that depression is right there, fighting with that joy in hopes of overpowering it.  Thus, the back-to-school depression this year.  It was real.  It was hard.  But in the end, joy stuck it out and I'm okay.  We're all doing good and adjusted now.

Below are my feelings of why this back-to-school season rocked me for a couple months.


****

McKay is in 3rd grade.  How does that even happen?  McKay is nine and he's in 3rd grade.  This fact hits me hard every so often.  My first child is growing up.  There's no stopping any of them from doing so, but when that first one meets these milestones and gets older every. single. year, it's a little bit terrifying, although very exciting.  McKay has Mrs. Wilson this year.  He somehow still insists that his second grade teacher was the BEST teacher in the whole world, so I sense a little hesitation in him this year.  Last year will be hard to beat, and I can tell he is feeling that.  

Ellery went to 1st grade.  This means she's gone all day.  Gone are the days of her and Layla pushing strollers around the neighborhood.  Playing all day, every day is no more.  It's over.  It's gone and it's never going to be the same.  Sending Ellery to school all day has been the hardest adjustment for me.  I  miss her and I miss the time that she and Layla used to spend together.  Of course they still play, but Ellery is now a part of that relentless school schedule, so it's just different.  What makes this bearable to me is how much she loves school.  Her teacher, her classmates, her attitude- they are all just perfect for Elle.  She's happy and thriving and I knew from the beginning this was going to be a very good year for my girl.

Layla.  Oh Layla, Layla, Layla.  My four year old baby went to preschool for the first time.  My constant side-kick and partner from morning until night left for preschool.  

This was actually not as hard as I thought it would be...for me.  I felt she was ready and I knew she needed to socialize and learn to play with all kinds of kids.  I also knew that she would love to have something of her own.  Those are all the things I love most about preschool.  It gives these little ones something to be excited about and proud of.  It gives them experience listening to a teacher and learning to follow directions.  I love most of all that they learn social skills, and the value of the playtime they have is so important.

So I knew why it was a great idea for her to go to preschool, but she didn't quite see it the same way.  She missed me.  It was hard for her to leave her mom and go off into the big world of her little preschool.  She marched off with a smile that first day, but she cried every morning before school after that.  She then started crying the night before.  It was awful.  I would carry her into school, crying and so upset, and just leave her there.  Her teacher promised me that her crying only lasted for three minutes once I left- and every day when I picked her up she was as happy as can be.  It was confusing and I didn't know what to do.

Add to that, the fact that for the first time in nine years- I was alone.  I had seven and a half hours a week with no one in the house but me.  Many mothers can't wait for this day to come, but not me.  It came way too soon for me and I started having a bit of anxiety thinking about how those hours are just going to continue to increase as these next few years go by.  It scared me and made me sad.  That's why when Layla would cry, I knew just how she felt.  I had a few crying spells myself.  

We missed each other.    

I am happy to report that today- on October 14, 2014- we are now all adjusted and happy.  Layla loves school- so much- just like I knew she would.  And I am finding lots of ways to fill my time when she's gone- it goes by quite fast actually.  I will say that on Wednesdays she has playgroup and is gone from nine until one and on those days I can't pick her up soon enough.  Baby steps.

I'm glad we made it through another August.  And I'm glad I have ten months until I have to do this all over again.

it's what fun is

I have wanted to take our kids to Lagoon for a couple years now, and this summer we finally did it.  It was pricey...I didn't even want Brian to tell me how much it cost to get us all in, but after all was said and done it was worth every penny to me.  

We had the most amazing, wonderful day at Lagoon- just our little family.  We have had bad experiences in the past with amusement parks...I won't name any names.  So we were a little worried about how the rides at Lagoon would go over.

We were amazed that everyone seemed to be over many of their previous fears, and Brian and I were better equipped to handle any remaining fears that lingered.  I think maybe we learned how to be better parents at amusement parks- finally.  One of my darkest moments as a mother happened at the happiest place on earth...in the depths of Space Mountain- I still feel guilty about it.  So for us to actually handle this experience a million times better was a huge accomplishment!

But back to the kids.  The kids were fantastic.  They were up for almost every ride...but the best part was that if they weren't, they were honest about it and didn't waffle back and forth about the decision. That made all the difference.  

I was pleasantly surprised at how many bigger rides Layla could ride at Lagoon.  And another thing was they had a lot of in-between rides- meaning they weren't kiddie rides, but weren't the big crazy rides either.  

The rides were great, but what I loved most was being together all day, having fun, getting along and doing something out of the ordinary.  It really was the most pleasant day in every way possible.  I love my little crew so much.

four years ago

Today in Sunday school the lesson was on Job.  I didn't think much of it as I saw his name written on the chalkboard.  But as Brother Fassbinder dove into the lesson by asking us a time we had adversity that strengthened us in the end, it kind of hit it me all the sudden.

Four years ago I heard this same lesson.  Carly George from the Summerlake ward taught me about Job the day after I learned that I might have MS.  I sat there, somehow having made it to church after an exhausting and devastating Saturday, and it was like I was hearing Job's story for the first time.  It struck me deeply that if he could go through such horrific and terrible trials and still have faith in Heavenly Father's plan for him, then I could maybe, possibly accept His will for me during this new trial.  I could try to be a little bit like Job.

My little family four years ago

Back to today.  I didn't share how important this lesson had suddenly become to me.  I didn't raise my hand and tell of my experience four years ago and how that adversity in my life strengthened me, prepared me, taught me and helped me be who I am today.  I didn't reveal the significant parallel that this was for me.  I was too emotional about it and I didn't want to bawl in front of everyone.  But I felt so much gratitude for where I am today.  There are other trials that have come and gone since then, and I know there will be more, but I am happy to be on the other side of some.  And I know going forward that I have a loving Heavenly Father and Savior who are there for me.

I was just really humbled and grateful to be hearing another lesson on Job.  And the words that Brother Fassbinder said were just what my heart needed to hear today.  The video he showed was just what I needed to see, to remind me of where to turn in times of trial.

It's funny, I feel like sometimes in life, spiritual experiences flow really freely.  It's not hard to feel the spirit and receive personal revelation.  Then there are times when those spiritual experiences are really hard to find.  Hard to feel, I guess is more accurate.  I have been in that hard place for a couple months now.  I have wondered why I am not feeling the communication I usually feel from my Heavenly Father.  Wondering why I felt like He wasn't hearing my prayers, and especially not answering them.

Today, several times throughout church, and pretty much the whole of Sunday School, I felt those feelings again.  Today's lesson helped me remember feelings I had forgotten.  It helped me know things for today- that He is here, that He cares, that He listens.

And today I knew that my prayers were being answered.  

Today in Sunday school something in the lesson stirred a memory in me.  One I haven't thought about in a long time.

I was 18.  Jana and I were in Canada, visiting, and no doubt getting spoiled by our dear Nonnie and Poppop.

The memory- the day my 75+ year old grandfather navigated us to an LDS chapel in downtown Toronto- not before insisting on a stop at a mouth-watering donut shop on the way.  It was fast Sunday, ironically, but this was not lost on me.   I, a young adult in every sense of the word, was well aware of what this meeting could mean to my grandparents.  I could show them my testimony.  I could show them that our church was right there in between the donut shop and the flea market in their city.

Without much hesitation I stood up and walked to the pulpit.  I began to bare my testimony to a room full of strangers.  The only thing I remember saying was how remarkable and comforting it was that the church is the same no matter where you go.  I was far away from home- in a different country- and there in that modest chapel in Toronto I found a little piece of home.  I hope that I testified of Christ, as my Savior, and of a loving Father in heaven, but I really don't know.

I do remember marveling at my courage- this was not really something I would have expected from myself.  I also remember my primary motivation for going up there that day.  My Nonnie and my Poppop.

Oh they were simply the best.  I could not have asked for more attentive, loving, selfless, kind people to grandparent me.  They cared.  They loved us so much.  They showed us this every chance they could.  And that day I remember wanting to show them, my Poppop especially, what I believed and possibly impress him with my fearless act of testimony.

You see, one of the primary reasons I had been told all my life on why he wasn't a Mormon like me, was because he was incredibly shy, especially when it came to public speaking.  My parents would speculate that was one of the biggest reasons he had never gotten close to investigating their religion.  Praying in public.  Giving a talk to a congregation.  Teaching a class on gospel topics.  It was perhaps inconceivable to think Poppop would ever join a church that required that of it's members...especially when he was content with Father Harold, his pastor, doing all those things every Sunday- while he silently benefited with the mass.

Today as we were talking about missionary work, my mind was brought to back to that moment behind a microphone in Canada.  What did Poppop think of me?  Did my testimony stir anything in his soul?  Did the Spirit touch him in any way that day?  Did I make a difference?  Was I prompted to do that for a reason?

Poppop never did join the church on this earth.  But today I wondered if maybe, just maybe, Poppop remembered my small, probably infantile testimony.  And maybe, just maybe, as he heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ in a perfect way on the other side, I made a small difference.  I hope with all my heart that he has accepted the Gospel.

I wonder, if he hasn't, what Nonnie has to say about that...

I believe in Him...

Just this week something sparked a memory for Ellery.  After this little spark, she asked me, "Mom, do you remember when we watched that movie about Jesus on the cross and I cried?"

It was a sweet memory, one that I had forgotten until she sparked my memory.  At the time I felt happy that Ellery was feeling something- the spirit, maybe.  When I thought back on that memory I felt happy again, thinking how sweet my girl is, and how impressed I was that she remembered something from a whole year ago.

Tonight I was going through some of my old notebooks.  Tearing out old lists that I had made over the last couple years, but mostly weeding through pages and pages of beautiful scribbles and carefully drawn princesses and flowers.  There were some that were just too sweet or precious to tear out- and those still remain, but my notebooks get confiscated a lot and return with all sorts of markings- so some of them had to go.  

I came across a page titled "tos", which is short for thoughts on a sunday.  I keep little lists to help me remember what I want to record on my blog.  I read down the list and came across the following notation:

"I believe in Him," after crying at the Lamb of God.

Then I remembered again.  After watching the Savior walk through the crowds or jeering people, carrying the cross; after seeing Him nailed to the cross and left there to suffer and die; after hearing Him cry to His Father, and finally leaving this earth, his body lifeless still up on that cross- my child felt something indeed.  She whispered to me, a couple tears running down her round little cheeks, "I believe in Him, mamma."

I hugged her, I remember, and explained what it was she might be feeling.

Tonight, I'm thinking about this tender experience with my little Ellery and there are a couple things that keep coming to mind.  

With my own children at home, and working with the young women, I often wonder when they will really know for themselves that someone is listening to them.  When will they know "Dear Heavenly Father..." is so much  more than words they repeat each night?  When will they connect that they are actually asking someone who is real for blessings, and thanking someone who is real for ones they already have?  

My then five year old was able to have an experience that helped to bridge that gap of relying on what we tell her is true, to believing in that truth herself.  And she still remembers.  That is precious and remarkable to me.  

I know that kids can feel the Spirit and I know some can even develop their own firm testimonies at a young age.  But I also know that for many children feeling something real like that is not a common feeling when you're young.  I can think of just a few in my own childhood, before I turned twelve.  Maybe just a couple.  

McKay has also had a few experiences with prayer where I know he's feeling the Spirit and those times are so special to me too.  I'm extremely happy and grateful when I see my children feeling the love of Heavenly Father, and grateful that each experience will add to their tiny- yet strong- developing testimonies.

This weekend I am feeling so much love from my Heavenly Father when I pray to Him.  He has answered some of my deepest pleadings and has lifted me up where I need lifting, and I am so grateful because I really needed it.  It's funny, sometimes, for me, my spirit seems so connected and I feel those real experiences and spiritual feelings often.  And sometimes I go for quite awhile without having one to remind me what I believe.  It doesn't make me stop believing during those times, but it makes it that much sweeter when I do feel one of those strong impressions of love or forgiveness or prompting.

I believe in Him too. 

thoughts on a sunday (from a couple weeks ago)

• Layla has been into reading the scriptures lately.  This means that she carries around her Book of Mormon and asks me if I want her to "read" it to me.  When I say yes, then she opens it up and begins a story.  I will have to ask her to "read" to me tomorrow so I can remember what she says, but it's pretty cute.  

• Today she brought her scriptures to church.  She carried them around all three hours, and home again.  They got pretty heavy going up our hill.  

• The people sitting in front of us commented on how well behaved our kids were in Sacrament meeting.  I thought for a minute, then concluded that they were actually pretty good.  It's not usually that pleasant, but we were in a short bench, which I think is the spot that produces the most reverence for my children.  If only we could be early enough for that spot each week...

• We  had the craziest Saturday- I think out of all my Saturdays.  The poor Grovecrest 5K was again scheduled on a day with terrible weather.  Those PTA ladies deserve a hug because they put so much work into this event and the weather is bad nearly every year.  This year Ellery ran the Fun Run, and McKay ran the 5K.  Layla and I were spectators, along with a very dedicated, supportive pair of grandparents.  It was pouring rain for the whole race- we were out in the thick of it for over two hours!  We got our rain gear on, set up our chairs under our giant umbrella and made a little fortress on the grass of the Jr. High.  Besides the PTA, the runners, and one other lady with a stroller, we were the ONLY people there.  We were the whole crowd.  It was great and terrible at the same time.

• Ellery ran a great mile- even coming in before lots of upper grade boys!  She only walked for a little bit.  McKay did a speedy 5K with Brian, and they both got 2nd place in their age groups...which means they both got medals.  This was exciting stuff, I tell ya.  We waited around for the raffle prizes to start, and lucky enough, McKay Matthews was the first name to be drawn!  He won a space mission to the Space Center (don't know what it's called exactly) for 8 people!  It was one of their biggest prizes and we are way excited for him to go with some buddies.  Then he and Brian were awarded their medals and we all zipped home to get ready for the girls dance recital.

• Yep, we had about twenty minutes to put on leotards and get two buns perfectly placed before we headed over to the church.  Layla and Ellery have been taking dance from Miss Rachel, a former beehive of mine.  She is a great girl- and so sweet with the girls, and her dance classes have gotten even more popular this year.  There were a lot of dancers, which meant a lot of people there to watch.  

• The girls did great- they loved being on stage.  My favorite moment was in the middle of ABC, 123 Layla whisper-yelled, "Mom!  Hey mom!" and flashed me the I-Love-You sign.  Heart melted.  And seeing her cute little pot-belly and tiny bun up there dancing away- I couldn't even handle the cuteness.  

• And then there's Ellery.  She loves dance so much.  Brian and I have seen a natural talent in her in dance, and we are wondering what to do next for her.  She wants to keep dancing, so we need to make some decisions about what that means, and where that would take place.  She was fun to watch and did such a great job.

• After dance, we had another half hour to get dressed up to get back out in the rain for Mack's soccer game.  We somehow made it in time to his game in Alpine (with the grandparents still in tow- those two deserve their own medal!) and set up our little huddle under the umbrella once again.  This time it was even colder...and wetter...and more miserable.  McKay and his team did awesome in the less than ideal conditions, and I'm sure its a game he will always remember.  They were freezing and soaking wet.  His team didn't win, but McKay did score two goals!  It was awesome.

• I never really understood the feeling of loving watching kids play sports.  Baseball does not thrill me at all, and football wasn't much better.  But soccer?  I'm loving it.  And I'm totally into McKay and his little team and watching them play.  I am excited to see how he improves with each game, and it's thrilling when he does well and plays hard.  And guess what?  He's eight.  So then I kind of step back and tell myself to relax because he's eight and this is a tiny eight year old team.  But I would much rather watch that little team play, than RSL (who McKay and Brian are WAY into).  So I guess I am not such a terrible sports mother, after all.  I can do this.  

• Today the girls and I all wore pink with white sweaters.  This is another thing that thrills me.  And it wasn't even planned.  

• I got Ellery that dress at Kid 2 Kid.  She loves it!  I saw it there and knew I needed to get it for her, even though it was more than I'd usually spend on a second-hand dress.  It was long and fancy, and those two things are hard to find for six year old girls.  I told her she could use it for dress up, or wear it to church and so far, she is doing both.  She was wearing her bride dress almost everyday after school, so this is a nice addition to her small stash of fancy gowns.

• Tonight my parents came over for dinner.  It was nice having them here and visiting, except for my kids went totally insane.  It was a barrage of "Grammy look what I can do!" and "Let me show you this!" or "Guess what I did yesterday?" and "Do you want to see my dance performance?"  I could go on and on, but I was exhausted just witnessing these every-minute exchanges.  It was like they had never had visitors before!  We need to work on this...

• This week was spirit week at Grovecrest, in preparation for the 5K.  We had fun coming up with costumes for each day.  I was proud of my kids, especially McKay, for being confidant enough to dress up and participate.  It can be scary when you don't know if anyone else will, or if they will laugh at what you show up in.  I'm proud of McKay because for three days straight he was the only boy in his class to participate.  None of the other boys dressed up.  On Friday, which was nerd day, there were some other nerdy boys, but that's it.  On Disney day, McKay wore a size 3T shark suit and pinned a note on himself that said "Fish are friends, not food," making him Bruce from Finding Nemo.  I was sure he was going to chicken out on this one because the suit was super small on him and hugged him right where it counts...but he prevailed and Bruce went to school!  As we were walking there, he got a lot of attention from his costume- many comments and people thought it was funny and clever.  I thought this attention might bug him, because although he loves to make people laugh, I'm not so sure that he's comfortable with a lot of attention.  But he kept on walking and off he went.  He said he took it off after a little while in the classroom, which I expected because it looked so uncomfortable. 

• Ellery had a bad experience when she dressed up like Minnie Mouse for Disney day, and some girls in her class laughed and said Minnie Mouse was for babies.  I find that funny coming from Mulan and Tinkerbell, but whatever.  She handled it well, and it ended up being a good learning, growing experience for her too- so I'm proud of Elle.  

• This reminds me that I am reading a parenting book about listening to kids feelings and it might be changing my life.  I love finding truth in books and applying those truths to my life.  I feel grateful to have been led to find certain books that my family needs me and Brian to read lately.  

• I wish I could read more books on parenting.  Jana and I had a great conversation this week about this.  I was telling her about some books I was planning on reading and how I felt like finding them has been an answer to my prayers.  In one of the books the introduction is about how the author noticed that the majority of parents don't have a plan in the raising of their children.  They realized that this was something big enough- this raising of their children- that they wanted and needed a plan.  So they wrote one.  And soon friends and family started asking for copies of their home-made plan.  And then eventually they wrote a book about it.  

• This really hit me, because although the Gospel gives us a lot of purpose and direction in parenting and raising a family, I feel like there is so much more to it.  The social, emotional, educational, responsibility-promoting side of parenting that I really don't know much about.  And I know that Brian and I will benefit from making and implementing more specific plans for our family.  Jana talked about how Heavenly Father did not just "wing it" when he created the world...He made plans.  It really made me think.  So that it is the story of why I'm reading parenting books right now.  I'm making us some plans...

• We had fun dying Easter eggs last week.  Layla was particularly excited about this.  It was fun for all of us.

• Earlier that day, I was working in the garden in the backyard and the girls were playing out front.  At one point I started hearing some crying and it sounded like it was coming from across the backyard- far away.  After a few minutes, I decided that the crying was more like screaming and it sounded pretty intense, so I thought I'd better go check my girls.  I got to the driveway and realized it was Ellery screaming.  I ran to find her at the front door, with her finger shut and stuck in the closed door, with Layla hovering around her trying to offer comfort.  Ellery was yelling, "GO GET MOM!  SHE'LL KNOW WHAT TO DO!"  Layla didn't want to leave her, and Elle was desperatley trying to get her to go find me.  Poor little thing.  I got to her and tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge.  A little bit of panic hit me, because I knew I just had to push the door open hard.  I did it and out came the most bruised, swollen, disfigured finger you've ever seen.  I have no doubt it hurt like crazy, and was super scary for Ellery.  She was not herself for the rest of the day.  She was pale and super sad and laid on the couch with her hand on a pillow, watching tv.  I tried to get her to ice it, but she didn't want anything touching it.  We worried it might be broken, just because of how she was acting (similar to when Layla broke her wrist) but the nurse said that there's not much they can do but put a splint on it.  So a couple days later we got a splint and she was really happy to wave that thing around for all to see.  She is fine now, but it was quite an ordeal.  I felt so bad that I left her there for that long, not knowing it was my child in distress.

• Since that incident, Layla has asked me to put her owies (wherever they may be) on a pillow and lay on the couch with an ice pack.  It's the only thing that will help sometimes.
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• We had a great Easter last Sunday.  We had a fun BBQ and Easter egg hunt up the canyon with the Matthews', and then had dinner at Grandma and Granddad's the next day.  We did our own Easter egg hunt that morning, which was fun, and ended the day with our Resurrection egg lesson.  It was a nice weekend.

•  I really love getting my girls Easter dresses, and my boy and Easter tie.  This year I bought Ellery's dress about a month early, and was having a hard time finding anything for Layla.  Then at a last attempt at Target, I found that little gem.  They coordinated perfectly and the girls looked so cute in them.  McKay wanted a pink tie, and Brian went with him to pick one out.  He decided on pink and gray plaid.  

• McKay climbs this tree in Grandma and Granddad's backyard and he gets so high that I can't even watch.  I love it and hate it at the same time.

Happy Sunday from my happy family.

my last little sunbeam

 January came and went so fast (thankfully) that I forgot to acknowledge the  newest little sunbeam in our family.  

Ugh, there is something to significant to me about becoming a sunbeam.  No more nursery- this just spells out to me that she's not a baby anymore.  At all.  She's in primary now.  She sits there in the front row in her tiny chair, usually right next to her teacher, and she learns the songs and hears the lessons and does everything that the "big kids" do.  

In the car the other day we were listening to some primary songs and to my surprise I hear a high, squeaky voice singing along to a song that I didn't even know.  I laughed and cried at the same time.  

She's growing up.  Being a sunbeam is just official proof of that.  

Three has been hard on us.  Three has brought out some wild in her.  But even though it's hard, I still love three.  Because if you don't have a nursery toddler, a sunbeam is the next best thing.  

Here are pictures of all three of my sunbeams.  How come McKay is in a flashy suit with the biggest tie known to ever grace a sunbeam's neck...maybe the only tie.  What sweet faces and sweet three year olds and sweet memories.  

She gave her first prayer the other day.  I was all ready to be in there and help her and she was SO excited to talk into the microphone- even wanted to do it during sacrament meeting.  But due to a mix up, they had her give the opening prayer and I wasn't in there to hear it.  No one helped her, she just did it.  I was still in the hall after she had said it and a few people came out of the primary room, saw me, and said, "That was the cutest prayer I have ever heard."  I was so sad to have missed it, but knowing that she said it all by herself, I'm pretty positive this is what she said:

Dear Heavenly Father.  Thank you for this day.  Please bless my family and my friends.  Thank you for that I could be good.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

It's pretty much her usual.  

I love this girl and I am glad I get to have another little sunbeam around here.  

Amen.

on getting a dog

Right now a dog sits at my feet as I type this.  I don't think I ever blogged about Ollie, or Scout as he was once known, but dog-sitting him for the last two weeks has caused me to realize some things.

First, I like having a dog.  Second, I don't.  It's hard to be indecisive about this issue, and perhaps that is why it didn't work out when we first got him.  I'd imagine most people would have to be fully committed before you get a dog (and keep it)...or at least give it two or three weeks to tip you one way or the other.  But for me, I honestly haven't been tipped.

I love having a dog around our family because it helps us be active.  Running around outside is a lot of fun with a dog.  We've gone on all sorts of winter walks that we otherwise wouldn't have taken.  I love that.  I want him to have exercise and I am really happy when me and my family can do that together too.  Tonight we all went over to the church to break up our long Sunday in the house and to get out some energy.  I wouldn't have thought about going if it weren't for the dog, because I wanted him to jump and run around a little.  The kids had so much fun racing with him, running around, chasing him.
Running around the church is funner with Ollie there.

I also have seen how dogs really can be loyal companions.  Ollie loves me.  He really does.  He cries when I leave, he follows me everywhere, he jumps around like an idiot every morning like he hasn't seen me forever, he stays close to me when we walk and barks when he thinks I'm threatened.  It really is remarkable, and I feel like I kind of know a little about how dog owners feel from their loyal sidekicks.  He also loves the kids and has started to cry when they leave for school.

I've seen an interesting relationship form between Layla and this dog.  It's almost like she is seizing the opportunity to boost her rank in the family and that means being bossy, passive aggressive, and sometimes practicing her physical prowess out on him.  In turn he is extremely jealous of my attention to her and feels threatened by that little three foot human, resulting in overwhelming licking and getting in her face.  But I've also seen her play with him when the other kids aren't home, and talk to him exactly the way I remember talking to my first dog, Daisy, when I was little.  They aren't best friends by any means, but given the opportunity, it could happen.  I think of the fond memories from my childhood of my dogs and I would love that for my own kids.


Now, the reasons I don't want a dog are far simpler and, honestly, more powerful.  I HATE having to come home because he's already been in his crate for three hours- so we can't go here and we can't do that and we have to leave here early.  I now understand my parents always constant rush to get home.  I hate that rush.  I do not like an animal dictating my schedule.  And I hate feeling guilty for being gone too long, or out too often.

A couple days ago McKay and Ellery had new friends (siblings!) over to play.  At the door as their mom dropped them off I couldn't help but notice the piles of dog poo all over our front yard- littering our crusty, white snow.  It offended me and I wondered if she noticed too.  When she left I picked them up- chipping them out of the frozen snow with a shovel.  Just...gross...our snow will never be the same.

As much as I've enjoyed my sneak peak into the loyalty a dog provides, I've also grown tired of the constant companionship.  He follows me everywhere.  He will be in a dead sleep and I will walk from the kitchen to the stairs and he is beside me in seconds.  He lays outside the shower, waiting for me to finish.  He wants to come with me whenever he can tell I'm leaving the house.  He's always there.  I do like when he accompanies me to the basement (because who likes to go to the basement alone?) but I get tired, for him and me, of the following.

As we ran around the church tonight, enjoying the fresh air and exercise, a man walked out of the building.  Ollie, protecting his clan, ran up to him and started barking.  The man did not enjoy this and I felt terrible.  That is something I definitely don't like about having a dog.  It's hard and uncomfortable to have to worry about how other people are feeling around your dog.  People coming to your home, people he barks at on a walk...

Then there's the chewing- he's still a puppy and it's almost constant.  We've lost several socks, a couple chapsticks, and a few toys.  It's exhausting keeping things off the floor at all times, and frustrating when we forget.


Even with all that bad, I still think he's cute and funny and soft and sweet.  Yet, I still can't decide, so maybe our current situation isn't so bad.  My parents took this dog for us, and we have a long-standing babysitting gig.  I don't want a dog, but sometimes it's fun to have one for a little bit.  So it all worked out.  I think back about our crazy decision to get him in the first place and I feel embarrassed, regret and like a terrible parent...but then I think about how much my dad loves this dog- the happiness and loyalty that he brings to him- and I think maybe that decision wasn't so bad after all.  We brought them together.  There's no regret in that.

love, change, etc...

This whole family-history-keeping thing is funny.  For some time now recording our life has seemed like a chore and something that nags at me a little bit.  I have been good to myself though, and not allowed much guilt to come from not doing my chores.  But then every so often, when I haven't done it in awhile, I get a different feeling about it.  A heavy, almost pressurized feeling that if I don't write and record some things, I might just explode.

That's how I feeling right now.  I guess its great that happens to me.

I sit here writing, not knowing exactly what will come of this post.  I do know that a post about my children- each of them individually- is long overdue and if I don't write those thoughts down about them, I will not feel release.  But not tonight.

Tonight I might want to write about how much I love my husband.  That's one of a few subjects that I don't usually write about very much.  I have been thinking about how young we were when we got married.  We were.  And thinking about how when I was that young, I thought I would for sure have everything all figured out by the time I was in my thirties.  Thirties seemed SO old.  Now here we are.  And we definitely don't have it all figured out.  But I think back to ten years ago...even six years ago...and realize that there is a whole lot that we have learned.

It's interesting to me though, how you can still learn things about each other that you never knew.  And you can learn things about yourself that you never, ever saw before.  I think I am doing a lot of that lately.  Learning things about myself.  Some of them are good, some are not very favorable to me, but exposing those things and learning from the things you learned about yourself is a good thing.

A lot of times when I am driving in the car these realizations will hit me.  Often times they are in regards to prayers I have been praying and I know they are my answers.  Learning things you need to change.  Most are too personal for me to be comfortable sharing, but one I have been learning continually lately (so thankful that Heavenly Father is patient with me when I can be so slow in changing myself) is that I have a problem with being judgmental.  I know I am not the only person to struggle with this, yet I also have been able to see the ugliness in myself in a new way- making me realize I need to change.  I am learning over and over again that everyone has struggles.  I pass judgments sometimes that are rude and terrible, and then find out a key fact or piece of information that changes my heart to the situation completely.  I am trying to tell myself to not judge because there will always be information that I don't know.  I cannot judge fairly, so I should not judge at all.

Sometimes I get these huge epiphany's though and then it's hard to actually put change into action.  It's hard to change.

Now I haven't even written about how much I love Brian, which was my original intent.  I guess why I got from Brian to change to ugliness to being judgmental is because there are things I am realizing in regards to me being a wife that need to change.

I have a friend who had a personal motto in her marriage of saving their best for when he got home from work.  It's a great motto, isn't it?  She refused to have her or her husband treat everyone they were around all day better than they treated each other when the day was winding down.  Save your best self for your family.  I like this.  I would like to do better at this.  Sometimes when you are so comfortable with someone, it is hard to give them your best.

*wrote this without finishing it completely, and decided to publish it anyway.