My Mother's Day Talk

Before I had children, I read a talk by Patricia T. Holland that taught me one very important truth about mothering. In the talk, Sister Holland points out that Eve was given the identity of “the mother of all living”—years, decades, perhaps even centuries before she ever bore a child. Her motherhood preceded her maternity. She further stated that she believes that the word “mother” is one of those very carefully chosen words, one of those rich words—with meaning after meaning after meaning. She believes that it is first and foremost a statement about our nature, not a head count of our children. I believe this too and I know that mothering is part of our divinity as women and is not determined by the amount of children we have.

I didn’t have my first child until I was 33, which is a little bit late by Mormon standards, but I did have the opportunity of working with and being around many children. First as a school teacher here in California and then later as a Social Worker in a foster care agency in New York City. In both jobs, I had experiences with children where I felt a connection and a love for them that was unlike anything I had previously experienced. I wondered at the time if I was feeling what it felt like to be a mother. I purposely remembered those feelings to compare them with the feeling I hoped to one day have with my own children and see if it was the same. I have since I have had my own children and they are the same feelings. Before I bore children, I had moments of mothering. I truly believe as Sister Holland has stated that mothering is part of our divine nature as women so to all who mother today in any capacity, young or old, with children or without, I wish you happy mother’s day.

When I was pregnant with Claire, I spoke to a friend of mine who was a relatively new mother and told her I was really worried that I didn’t know how to be a mom. She responded, “Your child will teach you how”. Over the years, I have learned the wisdom in this that you naturally, organically learn to be a mother, through the act of mothering and that children can be your best textbook. One of my first lessons as a mother happened a few months after Claire was born.

To preface, I am not the type of woman who falls instantly and madly in love with her babies. Don't get me wrong, I love them right off the bat and am happy they are around, but that magical connection/transcendent moment I imagined all mothers feel the moment their newborn babe is put in their arms just doesn't happen to me. For me, vibrant, teary-eyed, tender mother's love comes progressively through the act of mothering. I figured out the key to this one night when Claire was two months old. She was awake for a 2am feed. I was falling asleep nursing her, was completely exhausted, and couldn't wait to go back to bed. When she finished eating she wasn't ready to sleep, but instead wanted to frolic. I weighed my options: I could lay her down and let her cry it out, or I could stay up with her in her wee hour, happy hour. I decided to stay up with Claire and as I roused myself to play with her, a sudden gush of love for Claire filled my heart. Then it hit me, my love for my child grows exponentially when I serve them—any service works, but service when it is most uncomfortable, inconvenient or hardest to give works best. In that moment and in countless like moments since, I have learned that the more I push myself out of my comfort zone and as a parent chose the needs of my child over my own, the more I am rewarded by love for them.

In this way, our love as parents mirrors the love of the Savior for us. His love was born by his familial connection to us but was sealed by his sacrifice for us. I am sure as he gave all for us that his love grew exponentially for us. I believe he learned through his sacrifice a sure knowledge of just how much he loves us. I don’t think it is any mistake that the Savior himself uses the example of a mother’s love to give us context for the love He has for us.

Nephi quotes Isaiah speaking messianically, “Can a woman forget his suckling child that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yes, they may forget, yet I will not forget thee, O House of Israel. Behold I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands.”

He uses this example, I believe, not to point out that a mother could fail her child, but to point out how inconceivable it is that a mother’s love for her child could fail. The closest approximation that we have for the Savior’s love for us is the love that a parent has for their children. I believe that as we sacrifice for our children, we will resemble the Savior more completely.

Another pivotal lesson that I have learned as a parent came on Claire’s first birthday. When I went to lay her down for her nap. I held her for an extra long moment. My heart was filled with love for her and gratitude to my Heavenly Father for trusting me with her. As I held her, I started praying. I prayed asking Heavenly Father how to ensure that Claire would be happy. The answer remarkably and very quickly filled my mind, “Be happy”. I knew immediately what that meant and looked like for me. A little shocked that I had so clearly and quickly received the answer to my prayers, I asked Heavenly Father a second question, “How can I make sure that my daughter returns to you?”. The answer again lit up my mind, “Be consistent”. I again knew immediately what that meant. It means to be consistent in my love, my faith and my parenting. Since I was getting answers like I had never gotten before, I pushed my luck and asked Heavenly Father a third question but then got nothing. But, I am still grateful for the answers that I was given that day.

A third lesson that I have learned from mothering is that children, just like the Savior, are very forgiving. I am sure that every parent has had the experience of hurting a child, either accidentally or through bad choices. When this has happened to me, it amazes me the ease and speed at which my children will forgive me. At times, they will even comfort me while I am asking for forgiveness. Just as we seek their love, they seek our love and acceptance.

It is really hard to be imperfect as a parent and it takes a lot of courage to recognize and try to remedy our imperfections. There are days when parenting is overwhelming. And maybe it is on those days, when we are forced to seek out the Savior the most that our parenting can improve the most. Because on those difficult days when we are humbled and hollowed out by our circumstances, the Lord can teach our children, directly, through us, without our typical resistance.

My mother’s day wish for you today sisters, is that you will know deep down that you are doing God’s work when you mother. That you will know that he heartily accepts your efforts and is grateful for your diligence with His children.

Dave's Mother's Day Talk

Speaking on Mother’s Day is challenging. Why? It is difficult to express our love, adoration and honor for mothers without creating a fictional and mythical character for the women in the audience to compare themselves too. So, today, my mother’s day gift to all mothers is to blow up the pedestal on which this perfect and mythical mother stands. And tell a story about one of the greatest woman in my life. The story takes place in 1948. She is seven years old and it is the year my mother decided to take up RUM RUNNING. My mother grew up on the outskirts of Cardston, Alberta, Canada. Most of the kids at her school were "town kids" and grew up playing together, but my mom was a "country kid". There was a big distinction between these two groups and as a "country kid" my mom used the quarter she was given for lunch to buy the friendship of the "town kids". When the quarter revenue dried up so did her friends. She needed cash! It was rumored that Rose Kinnard, a variety store owner, gave an entire dollar to kids to run "an errand" for her. Some claimed that she was an alcoholic and that the errand was to go to the grocery store and buy vanilla that she would drink straight out of the bottle. One dollar would buy a lot more candy and friends than a quarter. She was scared stiff, BUT IF this clandestine operation were real, her drought of friends would be over. Now, mom wanted friends so bad that she once faked her own birthday party just to get kids to hang out with her. So for now she thought her integrity could wait, because she needed friends and the candy to buy them with. During school lunch, mom stood trembling in front of Rose Kinnard and nervously asked her if she could run "an errand". Rose smiled and said "Sure. All you have to do is take this note to the clerk at the Foodland. He will give you something in a brown paper bag. Bring it back to me and I will give you a dollar." Mom knew it was wrong. She could hardly breathe and could feel the warning pounding in her soul, "Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it." Now, you are all probably thinking "This is the point in the story where she turns it around and makes the right decision". Nope, she did it. She wanted friends. It would be worth it, she thought. She gave Rose the brown paper bag and Rose handed her a dollar. Mom ran down the street to Ken’s Convenience Store where there was a staggering variety of candies. She spent so much time choosing the candy that when she started back to school she noticed lunch hour was over and there were no other students around. School had started and she was late. She couldn’t walk in tardy with a huge bag of candy and admit she had been on a "whiskey run". Mom determined that she would go to her Grandma Smith's home and pretend to be sick, after she had safely hidden her loot. The Cardston temple grounds were on the way and she thought would be the perfect place to hide all her unscrupulous loot. When she was satisfied that no one was watching, she hid all the candies in the bushes along the north side of the temple grounds. She practiced her sick charade and then went to Grandma Smith's house. The next day during lunch hour, mom went to retrieve her ill-gotten gains and reclaim her bought friends. To her absolute and total astonishment, she could not find one single piece of candy. No horseshoe suckers. No strawberry marshmallows. No root beer barrel candies. Not one single piece. She scoured the bushes repeatedly thinking they had to be there. No one had seen her, no one, she was sure of it. Nevertheless, she could not find a single piece of candy, not even a wrapper, or a sucker stick. She ran down the street to Grandpa’s lilac bush where she had stashed one more item. Her favorite root beer horseshoe sucker was also gone. She then rushed back to the temple grounds and frantically searched the hedges again only to come to the unbelievable realization that her total and complete hoard had disappeared! For weeks, she continued to search the bushes any chance she got. Finally, in her mind she resolved the whole affair by coming to the conclusion that the angels on the temple grounds had secretly confiscated all her ill-gotten gains to put an end to her life of crime. And, it worked, for the most part. My mother grew, got married and had ten children. She passed on some very good traits and some maybe not so good traits, either by nature or nurture. If you ever see Mark clawing at his head in frustration. That is from mom. If you have the chance of seeing me get fired up and on a rampage, this is from mom, too. In life, they say after 30 you are in many ways the way that you will be for the rest of your life. And while my mother did give up her life of crime she was a very fiery and often rebellious soul as she raised her ten children. Then in her 40’s she stopped being depressed about all her faults and imperfections and started to change. She also knew that there was little she herself could do to change her kid's rebellious little spirits, so she used a silver bullet. She taught her children the gospel and the mission of Jesus Christ. Above all, my mother taught us the Atonement. She has taught repentance, but much more powerfully she has demonstrated what can happen when the principles are applied to our own daily lives. I have watched as she has humbly reshaped, re-tooled, re-defined and, most importantly, relaxed though honest repentance. I am grateful for her rebellious little soul. I can relate better to a rebellious soul than one that is perfectly obedient, without questioning. Today, my first Mother’s Day wish is for all you mothers out there to know that we honor you. We love you. We are grateful to you for loving our children. Your love and charity is second only to God’s perfect love. Russell M Ballard said:

“I surely know that there is no role in life more essential and more eternal than that of motherhood. There is no one perfect way to be a good mother. Each situation is unique. Each mother has different challenges, different skills and abilities, and certainly different children. The choice is different and unique for each mother and each family. What matters is that a mother loves her children deeply.”

My second Mother's Day wish is for you all to know that a perfect mother is a myth a piece of fiction. The Atonement of Jesus Christ is the salve that is packed between all our imperfections as mothers, fathers and children. By repenting and relying on the power of the Atonement, we as families can together experience and know the Pure love of Jesus Christ. Alma 32:42 states, "And because of your diligence and your faith and your patience with the word in nourishing it, that it may take root in you, behold, by and by ye shall pluck the fruit thereof, which is most precious, which is sweet above all that is sweet, and which is white above all that is white, yea, and pure above all that is pure; and ye shall feast upon this fruit even until ye are filled, that ye hunger not, neither shall ye thirst." My mother “the Linda-hona of my childhood” taught me to take responsibility for myself and work it out directly with the LORD. There are times that I have forgotten this and also times when this knowledge has been life altering. As she would say, Repent! And LIVE. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

The Half

The last Saturday in March, Dave and I ran a half marathon with two of his sisters and one brother-in-law. It was scary, exhilarating and hard all wrapped into one. I know that 13 miles doesn't seem like a lot to many people, but it was a really big deal to me. I never thought I was a runner and I have just been steadily building up my miles over the last year. Dave said he wanted to do it several months ago when his sister, Kim, first mentioned it to us, but then he never started training. He kept telling me he would run it anyway and showed up race day without training, at all. In fact, when he was setting up his Nike running app before the race he noticed the last run he logged was December 11th.

The race was in Hemet, California around Diamond Valley Lake. The weather was perfect 50ish degrees and fogged in. The trail wrapped around the curving perimeter of the lake. There weren't many runners so the intimidation factor was low and the beauty factor was high. After messing with my Nike app, iTunes and arm band at the starting line for a few minutes, I started out minutes behind everyone. This turned out to be pretty good for me since I spent the first several miles passing slower runners (including Dave, ha!). I was really happy about that because I didn't want to be shown up by someone who didn't even train for a 5K, much less a half marathon.

By mile seven I was feeling great. The course was an out and back, so it was great to see people passing you on the trail on the way to the finish line. I saw Dave again at about mile eight and was shocked that he was RUNNING and looked great. I loved the run until about mile nine, hurt but kept moving good through mile 11 and then kept running but really hated the last two miles. My feet felt like bricks, but the knowledge of how proud Dave was of me kept me going. About a quarter of a mile before the finish line my brother-in-law, Paul came and ran the last bit with me. It was so great to see him and such a strength. I crossed the finish line slowly, but happily a few minutes later. 2:15 minutes after I started, I finished my first half. Kim got me moving, somehow, to go find Dave. About 15 minutes after I finished I saw him heading toward the finish line. Still RUNNING. I ran the last bit with him and he finished in just over 2:30 minutes. Amazing.

After Dave said when he hit mile five, he heard a voice on his Nike app saying, "Congratulations, you have just recorded your longest run." and thought, "What the heck am I doing?", but he said he really knew at mile three that he could do it. He said he kept thinking of our kids and on again off again running with his sister Karen and it gave him inspiration to keep moving. In the car on the way home, he asked me "So, do you think training would have helped?" I answered in the affirmative but then asked him if he wished he had trained and he said definitely not. We both felt that maybe, just maybe, we would like try a marathon. Keep your fingers crossed for us and hope that we can screw our courage to the sticking place on that one.

Happy Easter

One

Dear David (or Mister, or Baby D, or Kiah),

You are one. One. ONE. Unlike some of your sisters birthdays, I can believe you are one. This year has gone by slowly, in a way that I have relished. I feel like I was less tired, less overwhelmed and more aware of how amazing being a new mom can be with you than I was with your sisters. I slowed down a bit and you have them to thank for it. They made being a new mom to you really easy. They both loved you from the start. No sibling rivalry, no parent-sharing angst, just joy to know you and have you around. Plus, they have helped me a lot—bringing diapers and wipes, picking out outfits and distracting you from anything you shouldn't be into. 

David, you are a happy baby. I think the fact that you were almost 11 pounds when you were born really helped with that. You just seemed full, well rested and satisfied from the beginning. You started out really big, but you are scrawny now. You have these long grabby arms and wiggly legs with just enough  meat on them. 

I love your seven tooth smile the best. A close second would be a slobbery openmouthed kiss. Of course, those eyes (Kennedy said they look like her blue diamonds—what she calls her eyes.) are get-lost-in-them beautiful too. I also love the way you love me. I'm still your favorite. You love to tease Dad when I am holding you and pretend that you are going to go to him, but then you pull back last minute giggling and snuggle back into me. 

You have your Dad's smiley and easy disposition. The girls drag you around, wrestle you, tickle you and you just roll with it. You are calm and relaxed and like us. All of us. David, you can move too. You are fast, strong and agile. You walk. You open doors. You roll out of falls and just get up and going again. 

Even though I'm your favorite. Your favorite thing to say is "Da". You scream it gleefully to dad all the time. You'll repeat "Ma" but won't say it without being encouraged to do so. You will sing though. You can sing the "La, La, La, La, La" chorus to You Make Me Feel. It's pretty cute, my boy.  

As a mom, I have felt competent as a mother with you. I feel like I am really getting this parenting thing most days. Occasionally, I'll have a day that knocks me on my rear end, but that's not typical. I'm so grateful for you Mister. You fit us like a glove.

Love, 

Mom

2012 Book Club Calendar

This is the third year I have organized a book club in the Desert. I love it (most of the time). It forces me to think about what I am reading, not just read—which you never have to force me to do. Here is our 2012 Book Club Calendar if you want some reading ideas.

January, Midwives by Chris Bohjalian
February, Soldier Slaves by James Parkinson
March, The Hunger Games premiere
April, Unbroken by Laura Hillebrand
May, Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague by Geraldine Brooks
June, Nurture Shock by Po Bronson
July, Born to Run by Christopher Mcdougall
September, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
October, Graceling by Kristin Cashore
November, Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Little pieces of heaven

At 2am last night, I woke up to the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor. From my last post you might remember this is a trend in our family, only 2am is a bit extreme even for our little early birds. I woke up Dave and he ran into the front room only to find Kennedy standing on the chair attempting to unchain the lock to our garage. Dave asked her what she was doing and she said she couldn't find her blankie and was going to look for it in the car. Dave helped her find her blankie in her bed and put her back to bed. I had to smile. My kids just love the things. Just LOVE the things. And I love that they love their little blanks.

Claire started the tradition in our family and her fuzzy green elephant blanket has been with us since day one. She cuddles it, sleeps with it, covers dolls in it and when she really wants a good soothe, sniffs the corners. And yes, each corner smells different. She'll rotate her blank around until she finds just the right one. In fact, when I tell her that she can't take it with her somewhere she'll ask for a quick sniff before she goes. Quirky? I know. Want to know what it smells like to her? I ask all the time. Raisins. Dirt. Playdoh. Basil. Cherrios. Strawberries. Want to know what it smells like to me? I think you can guess, but certainly not basil.

As soon as Kennedy could crawl she used to try and steal Claire's blank. This caused some real drama in the family so I went to find her her own. I chose the exact same style of blankie from Target only in pink with chicks on it. We found out later after some struggles and tears that Kennedy's cousin, Sophia, who is her same age and also a blankie lover, had the exact same blank. Kennedy lost her blank at one point. We tried to find a replacement. I picked one that was almost identical, but it had flowers instead of chicks. She knew immediately that it was an imposter and wasn't satisfied until the real McCoy was located. Kennedy has been calling her blankie "Hammie" over the last few weeks. I don't know where it came from but maybe spread out it looks like a piece of ham?

Baby D loves his little comfort blanks too. I love to see him crawl over to one of them when he is tired and just flop face first on it. At church a few weeks ago he didn't have his blue blank with him and he saw a sister with a light blue fuzzy jacket which he lunged for to do a similar "I'm exhausted" crash. He sleeps with one on top or him and one on either side of his face.

I feel a little out there (and not in a cool vibey way, but more of an odd, eccentric way) writing about my kids blankies, but it is crazy how many times a week I am grateful that they have this little piece of peace with them. This feeling of home and being protected and enveloped in something. I love that we can take these little pieces of heaven with us anywhere and it makes them feel routine, consistency and love.