Tag: parenting

The school year ends on Friday, which seems like cause for celebration.  However, I am currently wondering if we’ll make it through the rest of this week.

Today is one of those days.  You know, the kind when the school hours are spent holding crying children all day, then breaking up the fights they get in while you’ve got all four of them piled on your lap.  They cry, so you try to comfort them, and then someone else cries and needs comfort, and then they get jealous and want to be the ONLY person you’re helping so they begin to cry all over again and kick and push and fight each other for the only prime real estate in the world:  your lap.

I thought I’d do laundry today.  I’ve been thinking that for the last 10 days.  Not good.  I needed to do laundry today, because we’re all at the end of our clean clothes, and we still have two days of school, and as soon as school’s out on Friday we’re driving to Denver for the weekend.  Yep, the laundry is important.  And I went upstairs to work on it at least a dozen times today, only to be thwarted by the person at the door and the little ones who have been incredibly high maintenance today.

Tonight is our piano recital.  Sounds simple enough, but I also had to email the soccer coach who planned a last minute practice, get out of the gymnastics carpool, explain to my nine year old why we’re not going to Pack Meeting, etc.  The recital is at 6:00 pm, early enough that I can’t serve dinner AND get the kids in clean clothes AND drive 30 minutes to get there on time.  It’s late enough that by the time they perform, we spend a few minutes greeting everyone, and drive home it will be too late to start making dinner without major emotional meltdowns due to hungry tummies.  Yes, I could have put something in the crockpot, but just didn’t manage to pull my brain together in time.  I used the ingredients for my crockpot meal on Monday so I could be at the doctor’s.  Since I haven’t had time or mental capacity to put together a real meal plan and do some legitimate grocery shopping we’re running low on quick snacks and meals.  At this point I figure there’s no point in shopping until we’re back in town.  So pretty much I’m going to have hungry little ones at a piano recital and there’s not much I can do about it after being in the car all afternoon listening to my five year old say the same five words over and over again with her nose plugged.

In a three minute break between crying babies, I thought I’d make a cake.  I figured we’ll just get Chick-fil-A for dinner (major treat, we rarely do that) and I’ll have a cake to celebrate my children’s efforts in piano and school.  You know, make a mini end of school celebration.  I tried a new recipe (good for me!), set the timer carefully and then discovered that the baking time printed was way too long.  Thankfully I checked on it 10 minutes early and pulled it out, but it’s much more brown than it should be.  I got it out of the bundt pan, poked holes in it, whipped up a glaze and poured it over to try to moisten it up and salvage my efforts.  Bummer.  Oh well.

Then it was off to gymnastics for one daughter and a chance to explain to the coach why my other daughter won’t be there for a week and a half  (great waste of money) and figure out the summer schedule.  Yes, with three daughters in gymnastics, it looks like I’ll be there Tuesday through Friday every week.  So much for a lazy, unscheduled summer.  One activity and there went most of the week.  In the middle of all this the coach says to me, “You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”  I pause, trying desperately to remember what she’s talking about.  I guess we’ll add that to tomorrow night’s lineup, then.  Bring it on!

So, now that I’ve arranged carpools for the kindergartener who has to go in the afternoon tomorrow for a field trip, and the daughter I can’t get to gymnastics because I’ll be 20 minutes away at a last minute soccer meeting for a new team with a new coach, and figured out that I guess I’m going to a dinner I didn’t know about (and making dessert sometime before that), we’ll try to find clean clothes for the piano recital in an hour.

At some point in the next 24 hours, I’ve got to clean the car, wash our clothes, get an oil change and tire rotation, make it to the bank for cash, get to the store for road-trip snacks, find our bags so we can pack, clean my house so I’ll be willing to come back from our trip, fill out and turn in a bunch of paperwork at the school, and write thank you notes for all the teachers who have taught my children this year.  Honestly, I could do it…. it’s just that my three little ones are the wild cards, and today hasn’t been encouraging.

SO, if this post seems like it’s written in run-on sentences like a music piece that’s entirely staccato, it’s because that’s how my brain is working today.  And with a trip, two huge deadlines looming next week, and the hope that we can get back to town in time for a special funeral, it looks like relief won’t come until mid-June.  I remember my sincere feelings from yesterday about making more time for my armor building and wonder how things could go so very wrong in just a few hours.

I know that my life will never be simple with 8 children, but I do believe that someday I’ll be able to clean and do laundry with more predictability than I can now.  But guess what?  That someday will come because I won’t have a little 9 month old baby crawling around the house putting anything and everything in her mouth, or a two year old who changes clothes 20 times a day in search of the elusive, “cutest clothesies” ever, or a four year old who needs a cheerleading team in place so he can use the bathroom, or a five year old who stresses about everything.  It will come because they’ve grown and won’t be there for me to clean out their mouths or change their diapers or fold them up into a little ball to tickle and kiss and love them.

Oh, as much as I want order, am I ready for the trade?  It will come, probably, sooner than I realize.  So right now, when I look around my house and feel like crying because I don’t have any idea WHEN I’ll rescue it from its current state of chaos, I have to remember that I chose what I have, and it’s what I really want.


So please excuse me while I smother my baby with kisses.  Never mind that her face is covered with pretzels that she snagged off the floor while the big kids were snacking.  And the recital?  Well, we probably won’t look great, but we’ll be there and support our children/brothers and sisters.  And the weekend trip?  Hopefully we’ll all be wearing clean clothes.  And the house?  I’ll get it clean sometime.  Yes, we will make it.  It may get ugly, but we’ll make it.  And while all the craziness swirls around us, at least I’ve got them all.  I can’t forget that.  I’ve got to live like I love it.  Because I do.

Jennifer

I have been blessed with eight unique children.


They have similarities, to be sure, but really they are incomparable.  Each of them was sent to our home with their own combination of talents, interests and sensitivities.  They all view the world through slightly different perspectives, have their own personal tastes and their own set of challenges.  They are all here to master themselves, but the list of what they must conquer is different for each one.  Each of them even has their own unique (and predictable) response to waking up in the morning!

The fact that they are completely original people is what makes being around them so much fun.  Sometimes it makes teaching them complex.  As convenient as it might be, there can be no assembly line parenting.  With each child in each stage, we must learn how to communicate with them in a way that reaches their heart, how to motivate them, how to help them understand correct principles and choose to live according to them.

As I ponder the road ahead, I realize that their future opportunities and challenges will be as unique as their spirits.   I want so much to send them all out into the world fully equipped to avoid unnecessary pitfalls and to meet adversity with determination and faith.

This line of thinking led me yesterday to the New Testament.  In Ephesians 6, we are instructed to take upon ourselves the whole armor of God.  In verses 10-18 we read, “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the powers of the devil.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities,  against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.
And take the helmet of salvation, and thd sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints.”  (King James Version) I have always loved the imagery of this passage of scripture, picturing valiant individuals fully prepared to STAND in difficult times, able to refuse evil, sin and also the temptation to succumb to self-deception through excuses, victim mindsets and lack of personal accountability.  I picture these valiant individuals with light in their eyes, purpose in their step, courage and compassion in their behavior, and truth in their hearts as they watch “with all perseverance”.  They’re not perfect, but they have the tools necessary to be victorious.

I want my children to be like this.  I want them each to reach their full potential and become a blessing for the world around them.  I know they will make mistakes, but I want them to understand how to return to what is true and good.

Fifteen years ago I heard a talk that I’ve never forgotten.  It was titled “The Shield of Faith” and was given by Boyd K. Packer.  Its message is relevant today:

“As it has been since the beginning, the adversary would divide us, break us up, and if he can, destroy us. But the Lord said, ‘Lift up your hearts and rejoice, and gird up your loins, and take upon you my whole armor, that ye may be able to withstand the evil day, … taking the shield of faith wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked’ ( D&C 27:15, 17 ; emphasis added).

The ministry of the prophets and apostles leads them ever and always to the home and the family. That shield of faith is not produced in a factory but at home in a cottage industry.

The ultimate purpose of all we teach is to unite parents and children in faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that they are happy at home, sealed in an eternal marriage, linked to their generations, and assured of exaltation in the presence of our Heavenly Father.

Lest parents and children be “tossed to and fro,” and misled by “cunning craftiness” of men who “lie in wait to deceive” ( Eph. 4:14 ), our Father’s plan requires that, like the generation of life itself, the shield of faith is to be made and fitted in the family. No two can be exactly alike. Each must be handcrafted to individual specifications.

The plan designed by the Father contemplates that man and woman, husband and wife, working together, fit each child individually with a shield of faith made to buckle on so firmly that it can neither be pulled off nor penetrated by those fiery darts.

It takes the steady strength of a father to hammer out the metal of it and the tender hands of a mother to polish and fit it on. Sometimes one parent is left to do it alone. It is difficult, but it can be done.

In the Church we can teach about the materials from which a shield of faith is made: reverence, courage, chastity, repentance, forgiveness, compassion. In church we can learn how to assemble and fit them together. But the actual making of and fitting on of the shield of faith belongs in the family circle. Otherwise it may loosen and come off in a crisis.

This shield of faith is not manufactured on an assembly line, only handmade in a cottage industry. Therefore our leaders press members to understand that what is most worth doing must be done at home. Some still do not see that too many out-of-home activities, however well intended, leave too little time to make and fit on the shield of faith at home.”

Those words fill my heart with both excitement and apprehension.  Today I am pondering eight shields of faith.  I’m thinking about my efforts in this “cottage industry.”  I’m considering how to shape and mold those shields to better fit individual needs.   I am reflecting on the sacredness of the family circle and the words “what is most worth doing must be done at home.”  I’m wondering what we need to let go of to create more time for the construction of that essential armor.  I am realizing how much help I need from my Heavenly Father to recognize spiritual and emotional needs and to know just what the individual specifications are .  I’m looking for ways my husband and I can work together more purposefully to accomplish these goals.

I’m also inspired by the vision of eight incomparable shields fitted for eight incomparable individuals.  I’ve considered the many different titles that I qualify for as a mother:  leader, chauffeur, cook, teacher, counselor, party planner, accountant, maid, the list goes on.  I think “armor craftsman” would be an appropriate addition.  An incomparable assignment for incomparable individuals.  I’m sure I can count on personal revelation to accomplish it.  What an honor!

It’s Mother’s Day.  It’s been a wonderful day full of special things and normal things.  I have thoroughly appreciated the little love notes, flowers and gifts given to me by my youngest children, reflecting not only the love of my little ones but also the thoughtfulness of other women who teach them.  This morning I snuggled in bed a little longer with my baby, aware for the first time in my life that such opportunities may be vanishing.  I have enjoyed my husband’s efforts to handle the crying babies/toddlers in Church (today we had three of those) and to feed our hungry bunch without my help.  We’ve had enough thoughtfulness to make it a special day and enough crying to keep it normal.


This year I find myself reflecting a little on my feelings about motherhood and how it’s changed over the years.  As I looked around me in Church today I noticed the mothers who stand at the beginning of this, the greatest adventure they’ll ever embark upon.  Their eyes are full of happiness and expectation and their ideals are high.  I saw the mothers whose children are in various stages of leaving home.  I’ve noticed that they say less, sometimes, in classes.   It seems to me that they’ve learned a lot but have also learned how much they don’t know.  While I know they’ve experienced victories, they’ve also experienced difficulties which I think may keep them quiet.  They are the group I wish would talk more, for I feel that there is much for me to learn from them.  I noticed the mothers who are now grandmothers, and in some cases great-grandmothers.  I appreciate the kindness in their eyes when they look at me and my bunch.  I find myself hanging onto their words.  I still remember when I was expecting my 7th baby and one of them looked at me and said, “We  had seven.  You live after.”  We both laughed, but I can’t count the number of times I’ve reflected on that statement when I wondered what on earth made me think that I could raise children.


I call myself a Mom in the Middle.  By this description I mean that I am far enough into this adventure to be cognizant of the reality that children aren’t perfect and that there is no perfect mother.  I’m in far enough to be completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of my responsibilities.  I find myself looking back and forth between the young moms and the veteran moms while I try to find my way through the no-man’s-land in the middle.  The middle is, right now, hard for me, but I am slowly finding my way.   I am on the front lines of humanity, in the trenches.  It is exhausting.  It is discouraging.  It is also exhilarating and motivating.   Motherhood is so much simpler and more complex than I anticipated.  I’ve learned that we need a lot less “stuff” than we thought we did, that I can do without most of the “gear.”  I’ve also learned that the complexities of decision making are huge, that even the little things can set courses for individuals or upset the balance of the group.  I’m at the point where I know a few things but still have SO much to learn.


Motherhood is the ultimate experience in delayed gratification.  As I look around at my generation I feel like we were, in large part, unprepared for that reality.  The need many have to feel good about ourselves as parents sometimes inhibits our ability to properly parent.  I remind myself regularly that I am not in this for the short run.  I am not in this for what kind of  3, 5, 10, 15 or 20 year old my child is.  I am in this for what kind of parent they will be.  I’m in it for the long haul.  I’ve learned that, like my cherry trees , people bloom at different times.  Different children make certain connections at different ages.  They have moments of illumination on their own schedules.  I can try to create an environment where these moments can happen, but I cannot force them.  Sometimes I feel like the time is long past for certain lessons to have distilled in the consciousness of a child.  Sometimes their “tardiness” creates new challenges in their lives.  It is painful to let your children fall on their faces and experience the full measure of the consequences of their mistakes.  It is painful to live the social consequences of these things.  It is easy as parents to immerse ourselves too much in secondary causes which feed that need for recognition, gratification and accomplishment.  It is painful to name your fears, face them, and press forward with what is right.  Still, an honest assessment of today’s social culture screams that we must do it.  I often think of the words of T.S. Eliot, “And right action is freedom from past and future also.”


As hard as it is, I cannot think of anything I’d rather be doing with my life.  I did not foresee that motherhood would reveal so many weaknesses in me.  I am also convinced that I’ve discovered talents and strengths that could not have been unearthed in any other context.   Nothing else could teach me as effectively about my need to have faith, to pray for charity, to really learn how to pray, to run to my Savior for refuge and help.

I am grateful for these words from Gordon B. Hinckley, “Never forget that these little ones are the sons and daughters of God and that yours is a custodial relationship to them, that He was a parent before you were parents and that He has not relinquished his parental rights or interest in these His little ones…. Rear your children in love, in the nurture and love them with all of your hearts.  They may do, in the years that come, some things you would not want them to do, but be patient, be patient.  You have not failed as long as you have tried.”


I cannot do this alone.  I need God’s help.  I also need the help of other mothers.  Words cannot express the gratitude I feel for the women around me who are raising their children.  I appreciate their examples, the kindness they show to my children.  And their stories.  Oh, how their stories feed me.  I find strength in the honesty with which they share the ups and downs of being mothers.  It reminds me that I am not alone, that there is much we can do to lift and help each other.  I have learned about mothering from women who have more children than I do and from women who have fewer.  I have learned profound lessons in mothering from women who have no children.   I have learned from close friends and from women I’ve never met.

Patricia Holland said, “I believe mother is one of those very carefully chosen words, one of those rich words, with meaning after meaning.  We must not, at all costs, let that word divide us.  I believe with all my heart that it is first and foremost a statement about our nature, not a head count of our children.”

I believe that this is an incredible time in which to be a mother.  Right now my desk is piled with research from multiple disciplines which I am studying for the purpose of being a better mother.  I am learning about marketing ideas to my children, about how to teach.  I am learning about organizational management, communication and about leadership.  Never before have such rich resources been available to us.  Never before have we had the opportunity to communicate so freely with one another.    Perhaps never has our influence been more needed, more potent.  I am raising five daughters.  Five mothers.  It may be that the greatest gift I give them is to LOVE being a mom.


Thus, on this Mother’s Day my heart swells with gratitude for the privilege of being a mother, for the privilege of associating with other mothers (my own mother first among them) and for the opportunity to be a better mother today than I was yesterday.   Let us lift one another, encourage one another, assume the best in one another.  Hang in there!  Together we can do it.  I close with a favorite quote, “We need to make allowances for ‘almosts.’  We can be very successful mothers if we are almost always attentive.  We can create a nurturing, supportive home environment if we are almost always loving and patient…. We can make these allowances for ‘almosts’ because motherhood is not a matter of absolutes.  If we have not completely met our expectations, it doesn’t mean we have failed…. it is quite possible to both fall short of and exceed our expectations of motherhood.”  -Amy Hardison I’m banking on that!

Happy Mothers Day to women everywhere.  THANK YOU for all you teach me.

Jennifer