Five Years

Five years ago I sat in a hospital NICU looking at my newborn baby all hooked up to monitors, IV’s, oxygen, and so forth, wondering why it was that he couldn’t maintain his heart rate or oxygen levels.  I marveled that it was my sixth baby, but my first experience of this kind; the hospital stay when you don’t get to hold your new baby.


All tests came back normal.  He was just having a hard time getting his little body to do all the things it suddenly needed to do to stay alive.  We went home with all kinds of gear; lights, heart monitors, oxygen monitors, and a mother that was more than a little paranoid about watching for that grayish color to return to his skin.  Yes, this time around was different.  Easier than it is for so many others, but still different.

Little did I know that the end of that pregnancy would mark the end of the stage when I felt like my life was under control.   But control or no, I cannot imagine life without this little guy.


He turned five today and we had a great day.  Chick-fil-A for lunch, followed by his favorite toy store.




He insisted on doing his own hair and choosing his own pose for his “official” birthday picture.


He was also incredibly patient.  The only time we were able to gather the family for a celebration (after 7 a.m.) was 9:15 p.m.


He played happily and waited until everyone was home to open his gifts.  Playmobil sets and lacrosse sticks. It’s all he wanted.


He’s the King of Mischief in our home, the boy who intensely hates all official meals, especially dinner.  He loves to play sports, loves to build playmobil castles and forts.  He loves to play with his brothers and sisters.  He makes awesome messes.  He is full of life, with a sneaky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

And wow, do we love him.  Happy 5th Birthday to our little guy!

HH

I Loved Being a Mother this Weekend

On Friday my husband flew to California for a few days.  He had a conference to attend near his hometown, so he went to spend a few days with his parents.

I wondered how it would go, if I would keep it together or feel stretched thin.


Friday night we did this .  Saturday morning I left the oldest two in charge while I went to a conference to hear Julie B. Beck speak.  It was awesome, and it did all kinds of wonderful things for my heart.  I guess you could say that while I was there all these previous thoughts, impressions and ideas sort of solidified inside me, and when I walked out of that building I was a stronger, better person.  I came home so happy.

Saturday afternoon was spent cleaning the house.  I particularly enjoyed mopping all my wood floors.  Have you noticed how cleaning makes you feel so good about yourself?  One soccer practice was tended to and the children generally played and had a great time.  Hurrah for unscheduled Saturday afternoons!

We had an ultra-casual dinner and watched BYU cream Gonzaga in the men’s NCAA tournament.  I grew up in a sports-loving home but we rarely turn on the tv in ours.  My ten year old son wasn’t sure what to think of his mother as she cheered on the Cougars and thoroughly enjoyed the Jimmer show (who doesn’t?).


Sunday morning came all too early, but we made it out the door and to church with 8 minutes to spare.  In general the children were cooperative, but at one point I did have to carry out my two youngest, one in each arm.  Interestingly, the only person I had to confiscate something from was the 13 year old.  Go figure.

With my husband out of town I relaxed a bit and put a frozen lasagna in the oven.  And then I did something I haven’t done enough of lately:  I called my brother in Spokane, my parents in Denver, and my brother in Mississippi.  I don’t talk to them enough, but it was sure nice to talk to them all today.  I paid a price for my self-indulgence, however.  All sorts of messy imaginative play went on while I was in my office enjoying a quiet conversation.  I have my work cut out for me tomorrow!

We ate dinner together and it all went just fine until my baby tossed her plate like a frisbee.  Splattered lasagna all over my freshly mopped floor.  More work for tomorrow.  Oh well, at least it was clean last night, right?

We had a great scripture study.  I think we all learned some things, pondered life, and felt the Holy Ghost.   I feel good about it.   A solemn family prayer as we sincerely prayed for people we know who are really suffering right now, and for others we don’t know but whose suffering breaks our hearts, particularly the people of Japan.

And then they’re to bed.  I’m tired.  The house is trashed.  But honestly, I loved being a mother this weekend.   I loved being around my children.  I loved serving them.  I loved cleaning my house.  And I love the little people that un-cleaned it for me.

Speaking of little people, one of my little people is turning 5 on Tuesday, and I’d better get to work on that celebration!

It’s going to be a busy week, and the weeks will get increasingly busier until school is out for the summer.  I know I’ll have hard weeks, and I’m sure I’ll have moments when the messes and chaos really get to me, so I want to remember this weekend.  I want to remember that I loved being a mother this weekend.  Even with lasagna on the floor and random stuff strewn everywhere.  It is a privilege to be where I am.

Life is good.  And it will be even better when my husband comes back.  We’ve had a lot of fun the past few days, but I sure miss him!

Hopeful Homemaker

My Hand Up

The school my elementary-aged children attend hosts an annual event called Leadership Day.  It’s a day when students and staff host parents and community members in sharing experiences with leadership.  The school uses a program called the Leader in Me, which is Stephen Covey’s 7 habits adapted for use in a school setting.  I love the exposure my children have to these great principles every single day at school, and I’m trying to use them more at home also.

This year all the students had to complete an art project of their choice for display on Leadership Day.  The theme was “Finding Your Voice”, which is Covey’s 8th habit.  I really enjoyed watching my kids think of ways to share this idea.  One of my daughters entered this piece that she painted on President’s Day , using the image of birds singing to describe how she felt about finding her voice.


My first grader’s project was so sweet.

She’s very loud and emotional at home, but at school is quiet as a mouse.   She’s a perfectionist in her school work and stresses about all the little things.  She’s been slow to make friends, but is learning a lot.  Her reading teacher is in love with her and emails me constantly about what an ideal student she is.  (My husband and I chuckle at this because we also know the rest of her personality, but it’s a relief to know that she is a model child at school.  Sometimes I wonder which is worse, the kid who’s perfect at home and a problem elsewhere, or the child who’s great everywhere but at home?)  She is a little sweetheart, and my heart salutes her because we know how much stress and anxiety she experiences in order to be that model student.

At her student-led conference a few weeks ago she was invited to set a goal for herself.  We chose the 8th habit, and her goal is to have the courage to raise her hand at least once every day and share something in class.  Oh, it made her nervous to write it down, but it is such a great goal for her.  With this goal in mind, she created her piece of art using oil pastels.


Her title:  My Hand Up.

Her description:  I will be brave and raise my hand.  I will share my thoughts.

She had me trace her arm on the paper, which gave it more meaning for her.  It’s her arm, her hand up high.  My heart swelled with love and pride when she showed me the final product.  I love the colorful fingernails.  I’m so proud of her for setting a goal that will truly help her grow.  I’m proud of her for having the courage even to declare the goal.  And I’m grateful for this little first grader in my life.

Hopeful Homemaker

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