Just As James Promised.

When Christ was on the earth He did a lot of things we should be taking note of.  In truth, His life is the very example we should be patterning our own after in every way.  One of the things He did was set up His church, complete with the priesthood and a quorum of apostles and the whole she-bang.

When Christ left the earth, He left the church established in His apostles.  But the world wasn't quite ready for what they had to say.  One by one they were killed off form the earth, taking the priesthood authority with them.

But the Old Testament was still around, and the writings and teachings of Peter and Paul and all the other apostles where still circulating and eventually they were compiled into what we now know as the Holy Bible.  And men interpreted it the best they could, and some just flat out changed the meanings to fit how they wanted it to.

Different churches arose for various reasons but the priesthood and the truths of the gospel were lost and muddied.

Enter Joseph Smith Jr.

As a 14 year old boy, listening to the great preachings of so many churches and wondering at them as so many do, even today, he felt directionless and confused and was asking questions but not finding any real answers.  Or, perhaps, finding answers but how can every church be true, as they claim, when they're all different?

One night as he was looking in the Bible he found the verse, James 1:5, "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him."

He did just that saying, "At length I came to the conclusion that I must either remain in darkness and confusion, or else I must do as James directs, that is, ask of God. I at length came to the determination to 'ask of God,' concluding that if he gave wisdom to them that lacked wisdom, and would give liberally, and not upbraid, I might venture." (JSH 1:13)

One day he ventured out into the woods to find a solitary place.  "After I had retired to the place where I had previously designed to go, having looked around me, and finding myself alone, I kneeled down and began to offer up the desires of my heart to God. I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction.

"But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction—not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never before felt in any being—just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.

 "It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound. When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!" (JSH 1:15-17)

Christ created the world, under the direction of His Father.  And under the direction of our Father in Heaven, he created all things that are on the earth.  (Moses 2:1).  No unclean thing can be in the presence of God the Father.  It's through His son, Jesus Christ, that we can become clean again.  In, or through, Christ's name we pray to the Father.  And through Christ we receive direction and blessings. Christ is our intermediary.

He is our Savior.  Through Christ we can return to our Father in Heaven.  He made this possible for us.  And in return for that, He simply asks that we live His gospel. "...He has appointed the law of the gospel as the medium which must be complied with in this world or the next, as He complied with His Father's law... Hence being the mediator between God and man, He becomes by right the dictator and director on earth and in heaven for the living and for the dead, for the past, the present, and the future..." (John Taylor, Mediation and Atonement, p. 171).

Joseph Smith Jr. received a clear answer that day.  None of the churches were the true church of Christ.  But through Joseph Smith Jr., the true church was again established on this earth.  Like the apostles of old Joseph Smith learned a lot of things from Christ in a very short amount of time.  And like the apostles of old, he eventually gave his life as a sealing testimony.

In Jeffrey R. Holland's book, Broken Things To Mend, he gives a talk where he speaks of all the dispensations of time, and through all the efforts by righteous prophets to establish the gospel on the earth, it never fully took.  Prophets were killed.  Teachings were rejected.  Apostasy ensued.

Until today.

Elder Holland points out that in all of those times, those prophets who taught with their lives weren't doing it for their time.  They weren't doing it for their people at that moment.

They were doing it for us.  They were doing it for our time.  Our time, the last dispensation when the fullness of the gospel would be restored and not only stick, but spread throughout the entire world. We are the fruits of their labor.  We are who they have taught.

I hope that we can take to heart the words of President Uchtdorf, "please, first doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith." (here)  If there are questions or things that don't make sense, it's simply that we need to do as Joseph Smith did.  Study.  Pray.  I have learned in my life that when I don't understand something, the problem has been with me, and I've simply needed to learn more about it.  Always, the answers, the wisdom, comes.  Just as James promised it would.

{pic source}

I Am A Child Of God.

This was originally written and posted on October 14, 2011.

One of my most dear memories, and yet most heart wrenching memories, of Cali came to the font of my mind just now.

She was only three.

She was so small. And her tiny three year old voice...

Man I love my children.

But I feel such regret that I didn't know how precious they were at that young age, until they weren't that young age anymore. I feel such heartache over it. I feel like I've been such a terrible mom.
But I'm trying to learn from that, and curb the cycle. When I start getting frustrated, or annoyed, or overwhelmed, I stand back and think of how they looked, smelt, and sounded when they were about 18 months old, or two. And I take in the feeling that I have that I didn't appreciate them as much as I needed to at that age, and I hold on to that regret.

I look at my sassy 11 year old, and picture her at two. And knowing that I don't want anymore regret about the kind of mother that I'm not, I let that aching feeling into my heart, and it helps me bring to surface how much this child means to me in the heat of a tough moment. And I'm better able to react with love (which doesn't rule out disciplining if it's needed, it just means that my discipline is coming from a much better place than simply angry reaction), and to keep a dearness of them in the moment.

One of the moments I think of is when we were at Starvation Reservoir as a family with West and his kids. West and I were still dating. I was struggling with my activity in church. My divorce had knocked the wind out of me, and my bishop at the time of my divorce had knocked the last leg I was standing on, out from under me. I know I have a Savior. I know my Heavenly Father loves me. But struggle I was.

I was sitting in the bow of the speed boat.  We were driving fast and the wind was whipping through our hair. Cali was sitting across from me. In all of her innocent three year oldness.

And I heard it.

Blowing to me on the wind.

Her tender, small voice softly singing, "I am a child of God, and He has sent me hear, has given me an earthly home, with parents kind and dear. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way. Teach me all that I must do, to live with Him someday."

I choked up with tears.

As she finished her song, completely unaware that I had even heard it, I pulled her into my arms and knew that I needed to teach her with all the love and understanding that I possessed.

I was thinking of that moment this morning. And though I was still hit with it like a sledgehammer, I found it was more tender than achy. Which I'll take as a sign that my efforts to curb my cycle with my children may be working. I'm loving and appreciating them now. All though I'm far from being the mother I think I should be, I have come a long way with them. And I will forever be grateful for the chaos they create in my life. They are my life. They are my biggest support group and my own personal fan club. And I am that for them. I love them with all that I am. And I hope I can show them that as I try my best to prepare them for life.

It's Been One Year Since I Left Him.

This post was originally written and posted on October 1, 2008.

I'm going to be completely honest with myself, about myself, because really, that's not something that I'm good at doing.

For some reason I have this need to please everyone, and not let anyone down. I have to have it all together and be on top of it all and just be simply amazing in my life. Because if I'm not, I'm certainly letting someone down. Someone, somewhere, is going to look at me and judge me incapable in some capacity and I just can't stand to think that might be thought of me.

Well guess what, and of course, I say this to myself and only to myself, I am not capable in pretty much every capacity.

I can't keep the house spotless, and the kids looking like cute little baby gap models.

I can't cook wonderful homemade meals every night and sit and do homework with three girls while entertaining the fourth.

I can't make it to the gym every night and keep my car clean inside and out.

I can't show up to work an hour early and skip lunch.

I can't follow a budget and keep up with the laundry.

And if someone looks at me and judges me incapable, then I'm okay with telling them they're absolutely right. But until they have tried being a single mom with four children under the age of eight, working 40+ hours a week, and living all on their own with no support or help whatsoever, I say they don't know how remarkable it is that I'm doing as well as I am.

It's been one year since I packed those trailer loads with half the household furniture and took my four beautiful girls and climbed into a truck with my dad and left my "eternal companion".

One year ago.

I had been the "Stepford Wife". I kept in shape and got up every morning and got ready from head to toe, even when I wasn't going anywhere. I made all the meals, cleaned the house, took care of the car and yard, payed all the bills, handled all insurance matters, was PTA President Elect and Community Council Secretary, and I was in the Relief Society Presidency.

Let's not forget the four girls.

And I was completely battered to an empty shell.

My family marveled at my perfect marriage and life; I was sinking and lost in darkness.

Finally, one year ago, I did the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I walked away from the only thing I had ever wanted to do.

And now... ha ha. Wow. Go back and read the first paragraph again.

BUT!

I am alive!

I remember how to laugh.

I can look in the mirror and really believe that I'm someone worth knowing.

I do work 40+ hours a week. I cook (I know every shortcut in the book now) and I clean (not well and not everyday, but it's still a presentable house most days). My children may not always look like they belong in a baby Gap commercial, but they are clean and clothed and smiling. I still struggle with homework, but somehow we manage to get it all done.

Room for improvement?

Sure thing.

Am I up to it?

Sure thing.

After one year I can say with out doubt or hesitation that I did the right thing for my life, and for my girls' life. And I have found ME again.

Even though I will still continue to put up the front that I can do all things, at least I can admit to myself that some nights I'm just overwhelmed and leaving everything unfinished and undone, and crawling into bed and turning the lights out on all of it for another day.

But even with that, I'm in so much the better place in life than I have been for a very long time.

Today I Am Strong.

This post was originally written on September 23, 2011.

"Made a wrong turn
Once or twice
Dug my way out
Blood and fire
Bad decisions
That's all right
Welcome to my silly life
Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss "no way it's all good"
It didn't slow me down
Mistaken
Always second guessing
Underestimated
Look, I'm still around.....

Pretty, pretty please
Don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Less than perfect

Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You are perfect to me

You're so mean
When you talk
About yourself
You are wrong
Change the voices
In your head
Make them like you
Instead
So complicated
Look how big you'll make it
Filled with so much hatred
Such a tired game
It's enough
I've done all I can think of
Chased down all my demons
see you do the same.
oh, oh

Pretty, pretty please
Don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You are perfect to me

The world's scared while I swallow the fear
The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold coke
So cool in lying and we try, try, try
But we try too hard, it's a waste of my time
Done looking for the critics, cause they're everywhere
They don't like my jeans
They don't get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that?
Why do I do that?
Why do I do that?

Ooh, Pretty pretty please don't you ever ever feel
Like you're less then, less than perfect
Pretty pretty please if you ever ever feel
Like you're nothing you are perfect, to me"

-Perfect by P!nk

It's been awhile since I've reflected on the biggest, and absolutely the hardest, decision I've ever made. (here)

That changed my life forever.

 It's been... excuse me while I think about this for a second... it's been 4  years (7 years at the time of this reposting) since my divorce. And I love that I had to sit back and think about how long it's been. It isn't ruling my life.

What it boils down to is I didn't use put a lot of weight on the subject of emotional abuse. I would listen, I would hear, I thought I had sympathy. But until I went through 8 years of it, I didn't know what sympathy towards it was.

 I now have not only sympathy, but empathy.

Always being sneered at for the things you do and say.

 Never being able to laugh at yourself because you're too busy trying to hide how stupid you are from him.  Because he sure isn't going to laugh with you.

 Never doing it right.

 Not being tan enough, or blond enough, or wearing the right things. And when you try to change your looks to fix what he says isn't enough, you still don't get it right somehow.

I'm not listening for his truck in the driveway, wondering if he'll ever come home anymore. And dreading when he finally did.  Living in judgment, criticism, neglect, and heavy silence.

I think this is why I get so torn up over people judging others. How dare we tear someone down? Who do we think we are to do that to someone else? To take away their very thread of worth.

I left crawling, nothing, empty, black, blank, and heavy. And unless you've been there, you can never know how very dark that is.

But today, today I stand. I run. I am strong (I am woman hear me roar?). Today I know I am beautiful inside and out. I have my faults. But I work on them and it's okay.

I can laugh at myself and I feel so healthy.

 I can love.

 I am loved.

 And I can do anything I put my mind to.

Today I am able to teach my circus to do the same.

it's all about perspective

Sometimes in life all you need is a little perspective.

Sometimes even though you're looking at the same scenery over, and, over, and over,

just changing your perspective can make all the difference in the world.

This is beautiful and just what I needed. You should go read it.

bake sale for fighting children's cancer

Sometimes I don't win mother of the year.

More than just sometimes.

Tayler woke up one Saturday morning and informed me that she was fighting cancer today.

Okay...

Tayler does this.  When she brought home her snow cone maker (here) she started printing out fliers to come to our house and buy a snow cone for $1 to save the animals.  She put pictures of various endangered species on it.

I nixed it.  I wasn't comfortable with our address being plastered all over everywhere for strangers to show up at our house and give us money for a cause I didn't know how to support.  Does that make me a bad mom?  At first I didn't think so.  I was doing my duty to keep my family safe from strangers.  And I'm not at all comfortable with the idea of selling people things.

So on this Saturday, when Tayler told me she was fighting cancer, I didn't take her too seriously. 

"Oh yeah?  How are you going to do that?"

"I'm gonig to help with a bake sale."

"Is this a group that's putting this on?  Is it a part of something?"

"Me and my friends were talking about it at school and we want to do it."

Suddenly my walls went up.  If it wasn't part of an organization...
"Is an adult helping you?"

"No..."

And then I got mean.  Except, in my protective mother's eyes, I wasn't being mean, I was making a point.

"Okay, say I let you help with this bake sale (I was still doubting that it was actually even going to happen if there was no adult or organization to make it "real"), what are you going to do with the money?  How exactly is this going to help fight cancer?"

"I don't know..."

"Tay, I can't let you go." It was supposed to be at a boy's house.  A boy I didn't know.  No one was helping them.  Where were they going to get baked items to sell?  Who was going to watch them as they tried to sell things to strangers?  It was a fiasco and I didn't want my daughter to be out in it.

Tayler ran upstairs to her room where I heard deep heartfelt sobs coming from her. 

What point was it, exactly, that I had been trying to make?

Because I don't think I made it.

West, who had been sitting in the next room looked at me as I walked down the hall, on my way to Tayler.

"She's just trying to do something good," he says.

Having the pride issues that I have I replied, "but it isn't real.  It's not a real function.  And even if they do manage to earn money... where's it going to go?  Who's going to take care of it?  I'm not going to support adding money to another persons wallet because they let their kid have a bake sale in their front yard and then didn't know what to do with it."

I went up stairs where I found sobbing Tayler sitting with her back against her dresser, knees up to her chest, head on knees.

"Tay..."

What do I say?  I was struggling with my walls and inner issues and with the fact that this little girl just wanted to help those who were sick.

Finally I said, "Tay, if you really want to help fight cancer then you and I can sit down at the computer and google until we find a real way to help.  We'll find something that you can be a part of."

She numbly nodded. 

I went downstairs, not feeling any better about myself, when there was a knock at the door.

A little group of boys was on the porch asking for Tayler.  It was time for the bake sale.  I looked at that group of boys and thought, if all of these kids are pulling together to do this, then how can I say that  it's not real?

Tayler went to the bake sale. 

And me, being the horrible mother I am for breaking her heart, along with West, bagged up a bunch of cookies that we had just purchased at Costco that morning from the bakery and dropped them off at the bake sale.   Where I found a small group of third graders, including Tayler and Sean, who were so excited by every car that pulled over.  Tayler was all smiles as I handed her the bag of cookies.

"Thanks Mom!"  And she began to arrange them on the table that a much better parent than myself had set up for them.

  West and I went grocery shopping and I made sure I got change when I paid.  On our way home we stopped by that bake sale again, and bought our cookies back.

I learned a lesson that day.

A lesson that taught me that just because I'm older, doesn't mean I'm wiser. 

A lesson that taught me that just because she's nine, doesn't mean that she doesn't have plans for this thing called life.

And those plans are big.  And good.

Shouldn't I, as her mom, be the one cheering her on, instead of sending her sobbing to her room?

When Tayler came home she was all smiles.

"Mom!  We made $42.50!"  And then she handed me a heavy grocery sack. 

"What's this?"

"It's the money, Mom.  You said you would google and help me to find a way to help."

Those words hung heavy in the air for me.  I had expected the "hosting" parents to do, or not do, something with the money.  And yet here Tayler was, handing it to me with high hopes.  Man that girl's heart is solid gold.

I can't even begin to tell you how foolish I feel for fighting her on this, and I was determined to make it up to her.  So I emailed my friend Jennie, who's daughter is in remission from cancer, and I asked her what I could do with this money, specifically for fighting childhood cancer, being as these kids were the ones who pulled all of this together.

Right now Jennie is earning money for her Cure Search Walk for Children's Cancer team.  She gave me THIS LINK to donate to her team where "the money (raised) will fund and support collaborative research to find a cure for all cancers affecting children."

Jennie also shared this video with me to show to Tayler.



Tayler is donating to Cure Search.

Can you?

Our "engagement"... what really happened. Part 2

Part 1

In a last effort to "save" our marriage, my ex and I decided to try counseling to help us with the walls that had been built and with the issues that we had created in our relationship.  After having been to counseling I believe that it truly is something that can help you.  I went again to help me with the effects of things after the divorce and I was given what I needed to let go, forgive myself and others, and move on (here).

Marriage counseling will only help if both partners are willing to listen and take in what's being said and sorted through.  One person can't do it alone.

The ex and I met with the counselor together a couple of times when she suggested that she'd like to meet with each of us on our own. 

Apparently, with my childhood holding certain elements that it did (a small bit of that here), she wanted to talk to me a little more about that.  She told me that she was amazed that I didn't have addictions of my own.  She mentioned that usually kids who are left to raise themselves, in a sense, usually tend to console themselves in habits.  One thing that she pointed out to me was that I was in need of love.  I wanted to be in a loving relationship and yet here I was, married to a man who was incapable of giving it to me.

I only bring this up because I think it comes in to play with West too.  Not the part of him not being able to love me, because he most certainly does, but I believe the part about myself wanting a loving relationship, is what made me hang on through our first year of dating.

During our second date (which was supposed to be our first date), I was finally starting to ease up around him, and I could finally look him in the eye when we talked.  I learned that Matthew was his first name that he rarely used, and that most people in his life call him by his middle name, West.  I watched him swallow an oyster that I wouldn't touch, and our first kiss happened over a pool table.  He took me by surprise, he had just finished his turn and I was coming around the table to line up my shot, ending up right where he was standing when he just leaned in and gently kissed me before getting out of my way.  I looked at him in surprise and he just grinned that killer grin at me.

At that time in my life I was hanging out with my brother Nick and his friend Tyler (who happens to now be my brother in law), and we hung out a lot at a certain club where Nick was a bouncer.  That meant free entry and free pool for me.  Nick had hooked West and I up that night and it so happened that Tyler was there with other people on the pool table next to us.  After West kissed me and walked away Tyler leaned over my shoulder and whispered, "that was smooth."  I laughed, yes it was.  And I liked it.

The first year of dating West was a roller coaster. 
We'd break up (here and here).
We'd find ourselves back together only days later (here).
We'd break up.
We'd find ourselves back together only days later.
We'd break up (here).
After this break up I didn't contact him at all.  I was tired of being dumped.  The break ups were never harsh or rude, there was never any name calling or hurtful things said.  He just said that he knew he wanted to be with someone like me, but he couldn't.  He needed space and I came with me needing companionship and love, and four kids to boot.

Three days later I got a text.  "Can I call you?"
I was so confused.  I had been going back and forth between wondering if I loved him and thinking that this was not the man that I would marry.  I was ready by this third break up to let him just walk away.  I didn't want to do it anymore, no matter what my feelings for him were.

So of course, I let him call me.  And he felt bad that he hadn't heard from me at all.  I told him I was done being dumped, it was getting old.

A few months later we were lying on the couch in my brand new house having a "talk."
I told him that I knew how I felt about him, but I had no idea how he felt about me.  He was sitting, and I was lying across his lap. He said,
"I love you.  I love you very much."
And me being the stoic person that I am (ha), cried. (here)

I trusted that he did.  West wasn't in it for the game of it.  He wasn't feeling the need to win me.  There were no flowers or fluffy words.  He didn't do or say anything until he felt it.  Which led to a very frustrating first year, and a very boyfriend bragging second year.  It was this attribute about him that left me comfortable in knowing that I could trust his intentions, and know that he meant it.

West wanted me to move in right after we hit our year mark and finally said "I love you" to each other.  One month after I bought my very own house, moving out of my apartment.  I huffed.  Where was this four weeks ago?  You know, before I took on my mortgage?

I resisted.  I loved my house.  I loved that I was able to buy it and put my circus in a beautiful neighborhood.  I had great neighbors who helped me out so much and... I was scared of marriage.  So we dated for another year.  Spending every weekend and holiday together, taking the circus to Disneyland for the first time (here, here, and here) and going on a cruise to the Bahamas (here, here, here, here, and here) .  It was a half hour commute between our houses but we saw each other most week nights anyway.  I was living out of my car.  And if I wasn't driving to his house after work, we were on the phone texting and talking for most of the evening.

Finally, by the end of our second year together, talk of taking it to the next step increased. 
We wanted a beach wedding.  Small.  Intimate.  Tropical.
We knew we couldn't afford it.  West wanted me to move in while we saved for it but I knew I couldn't live with him if I wasn't married to him and it seemed we were at a stand still on the matter.

Until I thought of a compromise, and West agreed...

Part 3
Part 4

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steph vs. the accuplacer

Sometimes in life you catch a break.

Like when you think you need to go back to school.  Again.  But this time you feel ready and there's a specific outcome that you're working towards rather than a vague description of "getting a degree."

I had to take the accuplacer before I could register for classes and I was having major anxiety attacks over it.  I wasn't too worried about the English part of the test, but the math section...

Man alive.  I can barely help my kids with their math homework and they're still in Elementary school.  You want me to take a test after how many years to see if I can place in a college level class for credit?

I'm a firm believer that you can learn (or relearn) anything through google (or whatever search engine you prefer) so that's where I naturally started.  I knew I had to get on with it.  I found some practice tests and I felt I breezed through the English section (which I did), but then hit a brick wall when I came to the math sections.  I could still do the decimal timesing and fractions weren't a problem but anything else...

So I took another practice test, but this time I started googling "how to" for math.  I landed in YouTube where there were a ton of videos of mathematically minded people demonstrating how to do various problems and I started to remember.

I started to get excited. 

I can do this!

I really felt I could so I tackled that practice test again and had great confidence in facing those problems. 

Until I looked at the answers.

I'd gotten every single one wrong.

I had been working on remembering how to do math for a week and it was apparently not "taking" in my brain.  I resolved myself to the inevitable and told The Man that I would just have to take some non-credit classes.  It wouldn't be any good for me to get into a credit class anyway, if I can't remember it or keep up with it I'd just bomb the class.  No, I came to terms with the fact that I'd need the extra help, and I was okay with that. 

So I put on my big girl panties, and went to work on a Friday morning with plans of leaving early and heading over the the college to take the test.  I joked with my co-workers that I was going to leave to fail a test and they all said they'd had to take non-credit for a while too and to not worry about it.  They also started throwing out advice,
remember the order of operations
remember "FOIL", first, outside, inside, last.

Thanks guys.

I headed out into the warm afternoon, completely calm.  I swung by McD's for a coke.  Yup, I went there.
I drove the 15 minutes to the campus and parked in visitor parking. 
I walked calmly across campus to the building I needed and went down the stairs into the basement.
I was fine until I had to walk the entire length of this very barren hallway.
For some reason it felt like irony to me... walking down a very long, desolate hallway to the one thing you don't want to be doing...

I was told there is no time limit for the test, but on average it took about an hour and a half.

I put my resolve in my back pocket and followed the lady into the testing center where she set up my computer and off I went.

I plunked away at the questions one by one and then... it was over.  It had barely been an hour and I was a little shocked.  I'd expected more questions and suddenly I was one click away from seeing my results. 

I clicked finished.

And I literally gasped.  Literally.  The guy next to me looked at me when I did it.

I had placed in a credit math class.  I almost cried.

Pathetic, I know. 

Maybe this school thing won't be too bad this go 'round.  Like I said, this time I'm ready for it.

what choice do we have? come what may and love it

We joke with my co-worker Mike {an auditor} about how short he is. His head comes up to my midsection, I can't see him over the top of my computer, and he can't reach a lot of things.

Mike is in a wheelchair.

We call him the baby of our office.  He's only 27. 

Mike meets my candid questions with his own candid answers and we had a great conversation yesterday.  I've learned that Mike wrestled in High School and used to tease his wife and her family about how short they were.  He's added that he guesses the joke's on him, he's shorter than they are now.

It made me wonder what happened to put Mike in a wheelchair, and when? Obviously, with his comments, he was already married when it happened. 

So I asked him.  Mike, when did you get to be so short?

Four years ago.  He worked construction, a business he owned with his brothers doing custom log homes.  One day the scaffolding broke underneath him and he fell nine feet.

I thought of West and his falls with ladders and broken bones.  Only with West, it was never his spine.

Somehow Mike managed to compare his wheelchair to my divorce, and the emotional burdens of my previous marriage. 

He said people say to him they don't know how he does it.  But he looks at me, and at his sister who has gone through a divorce similar to mine, and he says he doesn't know how we did it. 

To which I reply, what choice did I have?  I just did it, one day at a time.

He said the same was true for him.  He can do it because what other choice does he have? He said that if complaining would change his situation, he would be complaining loud and clear for the whole world to hear.  But it doesn't change his situation.  So what's the point?  He told me about being in physical therapy and seeing paraplegic patients, and being so grateful for the simple use of his hands.  He told me of his amazing and solid wife and family, who are a great support system for him.

Part of my commute home includes a hill.  Throughout the week I see a man, in a wheelchair, struggling to push himself up that hill.  And my heart breaks.  I want to pull over and help him up that hill.  But then I realized,  he's tackling it on purpose.

I've been thinking about these two wheelchaired individuals all night.  Pondering the conversation with Mike.  Attitude is everything.  It can make you or break you.  And it's completely in your control, even when nothing else is.

Mike said really, we all have our battles.  We all have our struggles.  The only difference is that his are blatantly obvious, where other people's aren't.

I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who blesses me beyond what I deserve.  I'm grateful for an optimistic attitude towards life, and the determination that my life will be amazing, come what may.

And with that I leave this thought on the subject.  I hope you'll read it.
Happy weekend. I hope it's a good one for you and you find all that you're looking for from it.  I know I will.

I'll finally get to see The Muppets.  It's finally at our dollar theater.  Waiting a little longer to see a movie is worth it when I can pay $12 instead of $56 for my circus to see it.

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Happy birthday baby girl

*I wrote this yesterday on Cali's birthday, but am only getting around to actually posting it today*

!Warning: may have a bit more information than some of you may want to read :)!

Four years ago today we were coming to the end of a very long and very stressful pregnancy. At 13 weeks along I was vacuuming the kitchen (yes, our kitchen at the time had carpet! Terrible!) when suddenly I felt like I was peeing my pants. It caught me completely by surprise and I “held it” and ran to the bathroom, cursing pregnancy.

What I found in the bathroom made me sick to my stomach. I can’t even find a fitting word for the amount of blood that started coming forth. In a panic I called my OB and received direct instructions to get there immediately (being as we were in Washington farming at the time, the doctor was an hour away). I called my ex who was luckily in a tractor right outside our house, and not half way across town. He came in to watch the three girls while I drove to the doctor's.

 It was so bad I was leaving puddles of blood in every chair I sat in. I was apologizing profusely and the nurse kept telling me to stop apologizing.

After an ultra sound confirmed that my baby was still alive (it was at that point that my panic turned into tears of relief) they hospitalized me, waiting to see if I would miscarry.

I did not.

 I was sent home and put on bed rest. I had three little girls to take care of and I had to miss Bill and Jessica’s wedding, but somehow we made it through a month of bed rest. By the end of it I decided that I had to get up. I had to take care of the children I already had.

 After a month of bed rest I went in for another ultra sound where they found that the placenta had hemorrhaged and Cali , though we didn’t even know her gender at the time, was surrounded 50% by blood.

I was given a 50/50 shot at keeping her.

They were afraid that the placenta would be too weak to nourish her and hold her as she got bigger, or that she would run out of room to grow with all the blood around her.

 From there we started weekly stress tests and monthly ultra sounds to check on her. We passed the time for miscarriage and started worrying about premature birth. Finally, two weeks before she was due (she was due on my 26th birthday) we went to the hospital to check her lungs, hoping they would be developed enough to have a C-section and get her out of there… me.

Her lungs weren’t ready, so the C-section was scheduled for the following week, my doctor giving me every reassurance that the count was high enough she was certain one week was all that was needed.

 After six months of weekly doctor’s visits (an hour one way) I was exhausted from the emotional and physical strain.

Jan 28, 2005 I went into the surgery, and nearly lost my life from complications of my own body.
We had never, through all the ultra sounds, found out Cali ’s gender, and everyone in that delivery room knew that we had three girls already. What should have taken 15 minutes took an hour and a half. I had the anesthesiologist at my head the entire time, talking to me, asking if I was alright. I was fighting to breathe and stay focused, I felt distant and disconnected from what was happening and he could tell.

 Finally, “it’s another girl!” Cheers and laughs from the entire room and tears from me. My baby made it, and so did I.

The one thing that drives me INSANE about Cali is her stubborn streak, and her outrageous will to do it HER way on HER time. And we butt heads constantly on “you have to listen and do these things when it’s time”. But I’m so grateful for that outrageous stubbornness of hers, for it’s exactly that got her through the pregnancy.
Cali is four today. So in tribute to my “beast”, or as my (step)dad calls her, “nitro”, here’s four things I love about Cali :
1. Her absolute energy for life. It’s exhausting at times to see how intense she always is, but I’ve learned to pick my battles and sick back and laugh at it. She does everything full force, holding nothing back. This little girl is going places in life.
2. She is my cuddliest girl. Even in the hospital after she was born, the nurses would come in and comment on how this baby just wanted to be held all the time. It made for a very hard time when she was a baby and I had to run the rest of the family, but I love hugs and cuddles with my Cali .
3. She is so crazy. Some of the things she puts on in the morning… and when I ask her to please change, as we’re actually leaving the house today, that stubborn side kicks in! I must admit I’ve taken her to daycare in a dance tutu and snowboots before, just to save a fight. And when asked a bit ago how old she was, instead of saying three she said five. When called out on it, she simple smiled and said. “I’m pretending.”
4. She is so eager to learn and do all the things her big sisters do. “Can I cook today?” “We have to read my homework Mom” “How do I do this?” She is always trying to grasp something new in her life. Again, this little girl is going to go places in life.
Happy birthday Cali-boo. You ARE the beast of my circus and I wouldn’t have it any other way!