Dave's Mothers Day Talk 2015

We all know that a mother Grizzly bear can be one of the most dangerous animals on earth.  Darwin would argue that this is because nature is pushing it to carry on the bear’s genetic line.  The thing that Darwin couldn’t explain after countless hours of research is the mystery of heroic acts. 

In Feb of 2001, a deranged man walked into an elementary school with a sizable weapon and intent to do harm. The principal, a small 42-year-old woman noticed the man acting strange and stepped in front of him as he was trying to enter the door of the kindergarten class. 

The man then pulled out the weapon and attacked the principal who had never been in a fight in her life. She crossed her arms in front of her head, locked eyes with him as she absorbed the repeated blows and backed towards her office and away from students.  Once there, she was quickly able to send out the lock down code. 

The man then turned his attention on to a new target, but the principal jumped on his back and locked her arms in a bear hug around his body. He then dropped his weapon and shortly there after help arrived. 

How on earth was she able to overpower the attacker? Some thought it was plain luck, but it has been suggested that it was far less luck and instead a perfectly executed plan of defense and ultimate victory against the attacker. 

She does so many things correctly. For example, not letting her adrenaline red line so she wouldn’t have burnt through her energy in moments and been left helpless. 

        

She finds a very creative solution to the challenge. After the attacker has redlined and exhausted his energy, she does what she knows best, LOVE.  She wraps her arms around him and holds him tight.  Using her fascia to create an incredibly strong lasso around his body causing him to drop the weapon. 

The hardest challenge she had that day to face was her mind and fear. If your brain is faced with something that it has never done before, it can render your entire body useless. If it finds a match, you are good to go.  For example, people have failed to get on the fireman’s ladder because they are unfamiliar with ladders and have frozen over fear of heights. 

The principal had to find something that matched her skill set. Hugging was something she had been doing for the last 20 years many times a day. She could not beat his rage, but she thought she could try and calm it. She said from the witness stand at the man’s trial, “I put my arms around you, to comfort you”. In the courtroom he silently mouthed “Thank You” in reply.

Joseph Smith taught about Saviors on Mount Zion—helping others find and experience the saving power of atonement. I have thought, what does it take to be a “Mother in Zion”? The qualifications are not an advanced degree or training. They are not even having your own children. Sherry Dew, has been a “Mother in Zion” to countless woman in the church. As I look around the ward and see that many of you woman have been mother’s in Zion to my children.  You have: taught them the gospel; shared your testimonies with them; showed them examples of patience; said “No” when needed, instead of the easier path of saying “YES” and most of all LOVED THEM.

In 2 Nephi 2:25 it states that “men are, that they might have joy”. You “Mothers in Zion” are you not, helping to fulfill the short and long term joy of my children? For this I will be eternally grateful to you all.

Now I know that I have just turned all of you women into heroes, which may make you uncomfortable. In your minds it may just not work.

I could be wrong but, but I don’t remember my mother ever really enjoying a Mother’s Day Talk. It was as if she after hearing people’s talks she felt she needed to repent for not being better—for not matching up to the stories told that day. Later in life, I spoke with her and she admitted that more often than not it was more a day of guilt. 

A researcher of heroic events stated, “I challenge you to find a hero that thinks of themself as heroes. You can’t find it.” Maybe this is why it is so hard for mothers to listen to “Mother’s Day Talks”. 

Let me clear on this day, you Mothers of Zion will never think of yourselves as anything special or heroic. No person or talk is going to convince you otherwise, in fact it may even add confusion and guilt and you may feel like you need to do, or be more.  

BUT DON’T. 

Just continue being exactly who you already are!

And know that we are all eternally grateful for what you do and who you are. We are grateful for:

·      The new primary presidency

·      The recently released primary presidency

·      All the primary teachers

·      The Young Woman Leaders

·      Sister Sutton, our sweet nursery leader

·      The aunts that you are, like my children’s Aunt Shari

And to each Mother today, if you are tempted to start listing things that you should or could do. 

Please don’t. 

Thank you and we love you.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen

The Last One Turned One

When people ask me about Benjamin and what type of baby he is I always respond, "he is a baby to remember". Besides the sleeping thing, Benj is the exact baby you hope your babies to be. He is happy, cuddly, curious and squirmy enough to keep you interested. His smile, that now boasts four teeth and a David Letterman-esque gap, lights up a room. He has made being a mother for the fourth time do-able and more than just do-able, enjoyable. For his dad, who wasn't even convinced he wanted four kids, Benj has made him want more. Dave has always kicked in to high gear fatherhood at age one, but Benji had him at the get-go. He charmed him immediately and I have never seen Dave so wrapped up in any of our other babies.

His sisters dote on him, his brother tolerates him and sometimes even gets a real kick out of him too. In turn, he loves them all. He is happy when they are around and goes most mornings for at least an hour without even wanting me. His sisters get him up in the morning, at some outrageous hour, and they will bring him to me in when he has destroyed their Lego castles and drawn on their art projects saying something authoritative like, "Here. Take this squirmy runt." I love waking up to the sounds of all of them playing close by.


Benjamin attempts to say several words, but can really only get out "Stu", his cousin's dog, and "Dad" clearly. He chatters in his own language though and it doesn't seem to bother him that no one else can understand him. The kids repeat his language back to him, so he must think he is communicating something.

Benji is our smallest baby and has stayed that way. I know this is a tender mercy to me, because he looks like a baby still. His first year went slow, slow the way you want it to be, where you have time to remember moments, looks and feelings.

Benji rolled over and crawled early and walked holding on to things almost immediately after he started crawling. I thought he would be my earliest walker. He will take three or four steps here and there, but he still prefers crawling and he can get around pretty quick. He prefers all things adult as play toys and isn't even interested in baby toys. He opens cabinets, flings pots and pans, throws clothes and books on the floor, climbs in dishwashers and drawers, digs in the dirt and uproots plants—basically, leaves a mess in his wake everywhere he goes. His face and hands are always sticky and grimy. His pants always have holes in the knees and his shirt always has drips and dirt on the front. Yet still, he is my "baby to remember", because through it all he will smile up at you with joy in those bright blue, smart eyes and just melt your heart.

Mister, Mister

Dear David,

Happy birthday my little four-year-old. Wow, I couldn't be happier about being your mother. I am so proud to be around you. You carry yourself so well. You are kind, courageous, smart and easy. I never worry about how you will act around others, or in public, because you are a charmer and CHOOSE happiness each day. Occassionally,  you will melt down just a little bit but I think we are the only ones who see that and get some fuel, in the form of food, in you and you return immediately to us as your happy self.

You have learned to introduce yourself to others this year and you nail it. You state, while shaking someone's hand and looking them square in the eye, "My name is David Hezekiah "Mister" Thatcher." You are your dad's show pony and he loves seeing you do this and watch how other's light up because of your courtesy and courage.

You are a self-starter. This year, you love picking your own outfits and bring out piles of T-shirts and shorts for me to pick out my favorite one each day for you to wear. As soon as I pick the one I prefer, you will say, "I think I will wear this one.", always indicating a different shirt. Spiderman shirt, underwear and pajamas are a staple, and occasionally, "Dusty" or the Avengers will make the grade. You never forget "Blue Blankie" and drag him everywhere too. You stated a few weeks ago, "I like these shoes. They are super simply great!".

You love golf, riding your bike (which you taught yourself), playing with Logan, flying airplanes with Dad, jumping on the trampoline, and of course being with those two sisters of yours. You have all been sleeping in the same room together all year. First, in the girl's room at the old house and now in your big boy room at the new house. The girls just felt like you would miss them too much and you would. I love to watch you all play. You always choose the boy's toys, but you are also right there with them playing along side.

You are precocious little one and I can often see a little glimmer in your eye. The other day, I told you that you couldn't take your toys and blankie to preschool and you responded, "I don't know any better. Logan told be that I don't know any better." You do not like chores and often skirt them. At the car wash recently I had asked you to help me clean out the car and you dabbled at it for a few minutes and then said "Mom, ask me a question." I asked what question and you said "Do you want to watch or work." Without realizing I was being set up, I asked "Do you want to watch or work?" and David responded, "Watch". Yep, you are that kind of Tom Sawyer-ish.

I tell you all the time that I love your company and I do. This year has probably not been very exciting for you because a lot of the time we are running other kids places and rushing home to get Benj one of his two naps a day, so there hasn't been enough time for a lot of park dates, and library trips and fun outings, but you are happy with what you get and chatter away to me all day long. I like to hear what you say and love having my little sidekick. I'll love you forever, little "Mister".

Mom

Kennedy Turned Six

Dear Kennedy,

This picture just sums you up for me right now. Benjamin was born nine months ago and you have had him at your side ever since. You are his second mom and take this role very seriously. You wake up with him most mornings, although I am never certain who wakes who up. When he was a newborn, I would find you cuddled in his crib with him. Later, you and Claire figured out how to get him out of his crib. You would stand inside the crib and pick him up and them pass him to Claire who would be standing outside his crib. You've now even created a way to get him on your own, where you balance one foot on a shelf and one on the side of the crib, pick him up and then lower him to the ground. We had to swear you off that approach for obvious safety reasons, but I love your tenacity little girl. He loves you for this, smiling for you and giggling when you insist on a foot kiss before nap time.

You watch me with eagle eyes as a mother and sometimes I wonder if you are thinking, "I could do this better." You know what? I think you could too, most of the time. You are also always at my side when I cook. Helping is second nature to you and unlike most six-year-olds, you are really efficient. 

Kennedy, you are a born planner. You particularly like to throw parties and can dream of place settings, meal plans, cake toppers and gift bags all day long. In this way, you are a lot like your Grandma Cheryl. You planned out your own Lego-themed party this year and picked out all of the decorations and party favors, catering each Lego gift to the personality and likes of your cousins.

You started Kindergarten this year and told me you are the smartest kid in the class. I told her teacher this and she said, "Well, she is probably right". You are bright and catch on to things very quickly. I love to hear you reading and watch you do math problems in your head. It is great to see your mind in motion. 

At times, you can be shy and other times extremely bold. I notice when you are with your sister, you are your bravest. When Claire falters at something, you boldly try to succeed with it. Some of this is competitive, but I think down deep you want her to know that you both can do it. I love to see you kick in to high gear in these situations and push yourself. At school, you are shy in social situations but confident in the work. We are working on making new friends and getting more comfortable with new people.

Your little freckles put me over the moon Kennedy. You have a few dotting your checks and nose. I love to stare at them and kiss those soft cheeks. They still smell like pie to me! I had freckles as a little girl and hated them. Seeing you with them, has shown me how beautiful they are. Now I regret every minute I hated my freckles. 

I love my little mama and love watching who you are becoming.

Love,

Mom

Eight is great!

Dear Claire,

You turned eight in November. As if just gaining another year wasn't a big enough milestone, you also chose to become a member of The Christ of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints through baptism. This made your birthday extra sweet and punctuated for me, even more, that you are growing up. I keep asking myself if your years are going by too fast and you know what? They aren't. Right from the beginning I have been distinctly in the moment with you. Maybe because you are my first and I became a mother through you and experienced every year of childhood through you, but your days and years have always been new to me. Nothing seems foggy to me. I feel like I can remember even the smallest moments with you with "Claire"-i-ty.

You are for the most part a text book first child. You are conscientious, respectful of authority, a good student, motivated, hesitant in new situations, self-disciplined and you care about the approval of others. That said, you are never domineering which can also be a first-born trait.

You are a leader without even meaning to be. I think others see your quietly confident, unassuming ways and want to be like you. You have a lot of friends in school and are kind to everyone, but you don't like to be the center of attention. I love to see your growing confidence in social situations and attribute much of your growth in this areas to the wonderful teachers you have had in your life in both Primary and at school. They have loved you and have encouraged you to lead.

I love your eight-year-old mind. You pepper me with significant questions all the time. This year while preparing for your baptism your would ask seeking questions about faith, about the purpose of life and how we can find truth. Your questions sometimes took your dad and I off guard because they were things we didn't even think about until we were in our 20's and 30's. I love that you have a questioning mind and know that this attribute can make your faith stronger and your understanding of God's plan deeper.

You have a strong need to be loved by me right now. I see you watch me and try to read how I feel about everything, but especially you. I hope that I show you how much you mean to me. I have to slow down sometimes and just hold you close to me. You can be sensitive and at times tearful. I hope your dad and I are teaching you how to fill your own bucket, to choose happiness, to understand how important you are down deep and not superficially. These are the things a mother of an eight-year-old thinks of, worries about.

At my core though, I know you are always going to be what you are today, because you were just born good. You were just born peaceful. You were just born kind-hearted. My dear, it is a pleasure to be your mother. I love you through and through.

Mom

Crazy Story From My Trip Here...

I was just cleaning out my inbox and came across this gem from Dave, with the message line "Crazy story from my trip here", dated 1/13/12 and timestamped 2:49am. This took me back immediately to said moment in time. On that particular night, Dave had decided that instead of driving to Las Vegas as he had planned first thing in the morning, he would instead drive that night, starting out around 10pm in a rainstorm and get there sometime late that night. He insisted he had lots of energy and the rain wasn't that bad. I was worried and insisted that he call me along the route to let me know that he had made it safely to Las Vegas. Part of my worry stemmed from the fact that in order to get to Las Vegas, a four hour drive from our house, you have to drive though a barren sweep in the Mojave Desert. This part of the route takes two hours and there are no amenities or cell phone reception, and is prone to total road wash out during rain. Also, did I mention that at night you rarely see a soul on the road. This sounds like a perfect storm brewing, right? Not to Dave, who gingerly left like he was heading out for a Sunday drive.

I went to bed around midnight with no call, then I slept on egg shells waiting for him to call to tell me he had arrived. I woke up around 2am and tried to call him and it went straight to voicemail. I was worried but I heard a ting about 45 minutes later from my inbox and then I found this email:

Tara didn't want me to drive. Meeting mom and Sam. Raining really hard as I hit 29 Palms. Jamming and fell asleep coming around corner and a coyote sitting in the middle of road. I am half a sleep, slam on breaks. Go off the road a little and blow tire. Middle of nowhere. What little light my head lights are throwing off is casting shadows on Joshua trees. It is cold and raining hard. I decide to wait it out. I dose off to the rythum of the sound of a good rain on the roof. 3:30am I wake up, dead asleep to wide awake like when you...tap, tap, tap, tap, at first I think it is the last bits of rain falling from an over hanging joshua tree, but the moon is out. Bright. No more rain. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. I wasn't worried about it, but now I am. I look in front, side to side, then in my rearview mirror, and then I see it. A shadow, a large shadow. And almost a red glow. Tapping on my back window is a decrepit, bearded old man. His eyes focused on me is tapping on the window. Our eyes meet and he stops tapping. But his hand stays on the window and he starts to walk toward the drivers side of the car. I am panicking trying to think of what to do if he breaks my window. As he walks he starts to tap again on the window. He comes face to face with me, he is dirty but his beard is bright red I can now see. His eyes piercing mine. Tap, tap, tap. It feels like he has been tapping on my forehead in a Chinese torture chamber for the last hour. I have not said a word. I don't even know if I am breathing. His finger nails are long, dirty and thick. He lifts them and begins to walk away. Then he points to an animal sitting in the middle of the road. Sitting there is the coyote that I had swerved to miss a couple hours ago, before I stopped to take a nap. The man whistled twice and they walked under the nearby railroad bridge. I started the car and decided to get the heck out of there, flat or not I would ride that tire to the rim. I spun out and started over the small hill and then I saw something I could not believe. In front of me the road was completely washed out with at least three feet of deep water still running down it. I got out and looked at the flash flood area. Had I not been stopped by the coyote, I would have hit the ditch at 80 miles an hour. I then hear whistling, then louder whistling. I heard the same two whistles from before. Now off to my right, I see the old man and his coyote standing above me on the train tracks. His teeth laced with gold and dirt, his smile ear to ear. He tipped his hat and walked away. 

Sent from my 0iPhoneapping

After I read the text, I laid in bed for the next few hours trying to contact Dave and find out if he was indeed out of the desert. By his own account he was a few hours behind and had a blown out tire on drenched, flooded out roads with a coyote and a yellow fingered old guy wandering around. I never reached him that night and finally got in touch with him the next morning. At that point, I was freaking out over what had happened and how he got to Vegas. Dave didn't seem to understand why I was having a heart attack. I then reminded him of his email in the middle of the night and he stated laughing and said, "Oh that, that was just a ghost story I thought of in the middle of the desert and wrote it down so I could remember it to tell the kids."

Which begs me to ask the question, what kind of exotic creature are men? No really, who are these people. A woman would NEVER do this to another woman, or man for that matter. Dave keeps me on my toes, that is for sure and there is definitely never a dull moment. By the way, it took me until basically today to be able to laugh at this.

Our Song

A few years ago, I wrote a post about my pregnancy songs that spontaneously come to my mind when I thought about each of my unborn children. I wondered whether one would come to me for Benjamin too and it did and it's a beauty, the whole thing. It called All of Me by John Legend. The lyrics are so perfect for my Benjamin, my pregnancy and the insanity of having a fourth child. Here are some of my favorite lyrics:

My head's under water

But I'm breathing fine

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

'Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I'm winning

'Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you

How many times do I have to tell you

Even when you're crying you're beautiful too

The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood

You're my downfall, you're my muse

My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues

I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you

Give me all of you

Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts

Risking it all, though it's hard

A few months after Benjamin was born, we were driving to Utah and he started crying. We had a long road trip ahead of us and I quickly tried all the things I could think of to try to soothe him. Nothing worked and Dave and I were both starting to worry about the fact that we had over ten driving hours left. Then I remembered Benjamin's song and told Dave to play it on the radio. He did and to our surprise Benjamin quieted down immediately and fell right to sleep. We were shocked and even more shocked when three other times during the same road trip the same scenario repeated itself—Benjamin getting fussy and the song calming him immediately. It seems he approves of his song as well.