Sending love to all you Sacrificing Fashion-Conscious Mothers

This may seem a strange thing to post about. But as I was driving children around earlier this week to their various destinations, I had a thought come to me so strongly that I wrote it down to blog about.

Some men and women don't have much concern for fashion, new things, or fancy shoes. But I do, and Naki does. Since we became parents early in our marriage while we were still students trying to buy our first place and be smart about any debt we accrued, it was impossible to please that part of our personalities. I've wished many a time that I didn't care about those things. Living in oblivion to them would feel so much better, so much less of an awareness. But it wasn't for me.

It was difficult to wear the same pair of jeans day in and day out. It was uncomfortable for me to know that I was out of mascara and couldn't buy any for some time...just did not fit into the budget. It was frustrating for me to not look on the outside the way I felt on the inside. I wanted to feel close to the Savior and my Heavenly Father and knew that by complaining, if only in my head and heart, about the things I so badly wanted and could not have, it distanced me from them. Seeing others who had what I wanted brought out feelings of jealousy and envy that I have over time learned to dismiss from my mind.

I quickly learned to look at people for what was on the inside and not the outside, since I wanted people to see me the same way. Naki and I attempted for years to put Him first, to put my children and each other first. I discovered that having to sacrifice taught me so many more things than just being able to have what I wanted immediately could ever have taught me. I know...I see the parallel in my current circumstances, even if it's a bit begrudgingly.

As I was driving along on that day earlier this week, I glanced down at a new pair of sneakers I was wearing that were a steal on Ebay, and thought how grateful I was to be able to do that occassionally now...buy something that I never would have been able to before. It brought to my mind and heart an awareness for all of you sweet Mothers, and even Fathers, out there who are in the same situation I was before, and wanted you all to know that I think of you and admire you for your wise and prudent choices to sacrifice your desires for things that truly matter.

Stubble

Most nights and mornings I go to bed and wake up with no aches for Naki...I'm usually so exhausted I fall asleep as soon as my face hits my pillow. By aches I mean no physical aches, like wanting to feel him beside me in the middle of the night, feel his hand rub my arm when he eventually came to bed, feel him give me a kiss in my sleep, sleep with his hand resting on my hip, or feel his feet rub over the tops of mine while we sleep. But last night I just could not fall asleep. The actual physical loss and sensory ache of wanting to rest my cheek on the rise of his massive chest, feeling his stubble at the end of the day on my face, was too much for me to handle. I guess I was due for a really good cry, and trust me, I got one. I slept eventually, with the hope that when I woke it would have left me. No such luck. Can't I just have it back? I want it back so badly right now. Not when I see him when I die. I'm totally banking on the fact that we get to cuddle as immortals. So all you married ladies, cuddle up to your hubby tonight and don't take a single second of it for granted.

Breathe normally...just breathe

I've posted many times before about our sweet Eva and her breathing difficulties. It started when she was 7 months and has revisited her from time to time, always ending with her on a nebulizer breathing machine, which she detests, and me hoping that whatever medicine she actually breathes in will somehow make a difference. She is healthy one minute, and then can be coughing to the point of not being able to catch a breath in between coughs in literally a blink of an eye. I can tell exactly by the sound of the cough what we're in for.

I heard her cough two nights ago in her sleep and my heart just sunk. Taking good health for granted is something that I never do with her. We've tried, in vain, to figure out what trigers it. The only thing Naki and I are ever able to find as a commonality for each time she gets sick is that it is a change in the weather...a semi-drastic change. And since it's warmed up this week, I was not surprised. I don't know if it's pollen being released that she's allergic to, and the doctors were hesitant to say she's asthmatic since it's so inconsistent and doesn't really present like asthma. Either way, we're stuck with it until hopefully she grows out of it. Until then, I have a baby with a fever that is almost impossible to keep in a safe range who breathes so shallow it scares me.

Yesterday was pretty bad. Line was reading to her while she laid on the couch with her "Daddy Blanket" that Auntie Mona made her for Christmas.

I know they're sick when they start falling asleep wherever and whenever, which she did many times yesterday. Last night I hardly slept because I was so terrified she'd start seizing from her high fever. We had a woman and her young baby live with us when I was a teenager and that little baby got a fever and starting seizing...an image I will never ever forget. I know I probably over worried and over thought every single move and sound she made, but she was laying on Naki's pillow, and in the middle of the night started twitching and moving similar to the way Naki did the night he died. Yeah...didn't really sleep after that.

In those moments when I realize my inability to have any control over my loved ones' mortality, I tell myself that death is nothing to fear. Death is actually, when considering all the things that could go wrong with any of my babies, what I would prefer. Them having to stay mortal and deal with trauma seems more difficult than just dying from the trauma. Who even sits around and thinks about these things? I never did before I experienced our family's trauma of my best friend dying and was left mortal to live and deal with it. I reminded myself to breathe, just breathe. There was nothing more I could do for her. Whatever happens in my babies' lives I have to believe is what's best for them...that God is somehow managing and overseeing all of this. If I don't grip tightly onto that thought I easily lose my ability to want to go on.

I watched her for a long time, until around 6:00 when her fever broke. Of course...right when everyone is supposed to get up for school. I didn't care, but instead just went to sleep and thought, "If their sleeping patterns are consistent today with how they were on their day off, then they should just sleep right through the hour we usually wake because it's a school day!" Thanks to Auntie Ginny, who despite having an important training she was doing this morning, got the girls dressed and out the door for school. She is still sick...it seems to linger for some time. Now let's cross our fingers that the fever doesn't return...we learned from the last time she was sick that a second fever is a bad sign. Last time it was the precursor to her bronchitis...

Everything but her cell phone...

I need the number to a really good plumber...one that has one of those special camera thingies for your sewage pipes, if one of those cameras even exists. We've discovered that Eli has conflicted feelings about having Auntie Ginny here. You would never know it by her interactions with Gin, as she is super sweet and can't get enough of her...climbing on her, calling her name to get her attention, wanting to know her schedule, wanting special dates with her, etc etc. So imagine our surprise, Ginny's and mine, when on Saturday morning Ginny couldn't find her rubber bands, mini hair clips, and bobby pins to pull back her hair for the gym. I retraced anyone's footsteps that had taken them to her bathroom, and mentally landed on Eli having been the last person in Gin's bathroom. Our conversation went something like this:

Mom: Eli? Did you see Ginny's hair things while you were in her bathroom this morning?

Eli: No...

Mom: Are you sure? Because you were the only one in there today...

Eli: No, Mom. I didn't see them.

Mom: Okay, Eli. But this is the last time I'm going to ask you, and then if I find out that you actually do know the answer you'll receive a punishment for your dishonesty.

Eli: Okay, Yes. I did see them.

Mom: Where?

Eli: I flushed them down the toilet...

Mom: You did what?!

And it only got better, or worse, depending how you look at it, from there. I was completely flabbergasted. Completely. This was a new one, even for us. I can understand the fascination with putting things down the toilet. Actually, while I was looking for a picture for this post, I read a story about a 4 year old (Eli's age) who accidentally flushed their one week old cocker spaniel puppy down the toilet, and it lived! It was rescued about 20 feet away from their house in the pipes. So I know it happens. I just couldn't figure out why she would do it, I guess. She had no ready explanation, and so I decided to think over it a bit to try to discover the best way to talk to her about it.

There are no more coincidences around here. Every behavior, and I mean every one, has a deep emotion connected to it. The somewhat difficult part of watching the kids grieve is that the emotion and the behavior or almost never compatible. You would never link them together as a cause and effect. Shortly after, Ginny approached me and told me that she had just found her toothbrush and her foot scrubber submerged, having somehow miraculously escaped what had been the hair stuffs demise. Later that afternoon, Ginny came to me again...more bad news. She could no longer find her tweezers that she'd had SINCE HIGH SCHOOL! and one of her expensive makeup brushes. All right, Eli. Enough's enough. With each missing item, I asked her if she knew anything about them. She of course answered that she did not. I think at this point she is feeling like I have several times.

What. Have. I. Done!

You know...that feeling where you act out of impulse and then know within seconds that it was an awful choice on your part that is SO painful to rectify.

So. I sat down with her privately. Again, our conversation was very very similar to the one we'd had in the morning. Except this time, I asked her to list for me exactly what she'd flushed. She successfully listed all the items that Ginny had noticed missing. We're hoping there aren't any more. How much can fit in those pipes anyway! In these parenting moments I have learned to completely tune in to any and all promptings that come my way. This type of parenting situation is not my forte...it's Naki's. He is so gifted at working with people, helping them admit their weaknesses, and then guiding them in such a gentle way towards bettering themselves that they hardly realize what they've committed to. Me...not so gentle. I felt prompted to tread lightly with this one, and am glad I did. After a couple of seconds of conversation, she slowly dipped her head down, shed a tear, and said that she wanted her Daddy here, not her Auntie Ginny. Her little flushing episodes were her little fists balled up, shaking in rebellion at anything and anyone who in her mind interferes with where she believes her Dad's infuence should be.

I know that this came as a real blow to Ginny...she's never received anything from Eli but complete adoration! And still does. If we hadn't witnessed those items still floating or those that weren't as lucky, we'd never have had any idea at all that she even felt that way. And so even though it was very very painful for all three of us, I'm glad it happened. It's given me the opportunity to understand our little Eli's pain just a bit more, and I now have more insight to her little heart. Gin, hold on to your cell phone, just in case.

Funk

We acquired a new pencil sharpener the other day. It seems that I buy one and then it is immediately broken or lost. We have all of these pencils that we can never use because we never have a working pencil sharpener. This time I decided to buy an electrical one instead of a battery operated one...well, technically I didn't "decide", but discovered it was a plug in one when I opened it up. So far so good. It can't go missing either, since it has to stay plugged in. That is, until someone decides to move it to plug it in somewhere else. We were all having a grand time with it the other night, sharpening away. One pencil, no matter how hard I tried, wouldn't sharpen, almost as if there was no lead in it. I pulled it out, and said to Line, Malia, and Auntie Ginny, "I think this one is defunct...". I had to pause to check myself...is that a real word? Ginny confirmed that yes, it was. I then heard Line mutter something along the lines of, "When did it ever HAVE a funk, anyway?". Cute, Line.

Oh, the Irony

Could someone Puh-Lease explain to me why why why my mornings go as follows: On the days when we have to wake up at 6ish everyone snoozes away. I have to actually make them wake up. And then on the days that I look forward to for a bit of sleeping in, say, like today (no school today) I look at the clock and it reads 5:00 AM...and Eva and Eli are both in my room, talking to me and asking me to turn on a show for them...Ane is screaming her brains out in her bed...and I heard Lose just flush the toilet and the light is on in her room. Why, girls? Why?

What will it look like?

Eli is being spotlighted in Primary on Sunday because she had her birthday this week, on the 2nd. They asked me to share one thing that our family loves and admires about Eli. That is a difficult task...do I pick something simple that the primary kids would understand, or even that Eli could understand? Naki is so much better at recognizing things within each of the girls that is identifying and unique to them than I am, and so I have felt the pressure of this assignment keenly. I know whatever I tell the Primary will be said in about 30 seconds and probably only 2 or 3 people will actually hear what was said! But still, it's important to me that I honor Eli by thinking seriously about our love for her and by contemplating what she teaches us. And so I have been mulling several different options around in my head this afternoon.

Through this process, I have discovered something that innately I already knew. As a parent the traits I most admire in my children are not the ones that always look the most rose tinted, are easily acquired, or don't require effort on their part. They are not the ones that seem sparkly and somewhat perfect and geometric, kind of like a beautiful gem. Instead I cherish the qualities of the girls that may appear rougher and are a bit dirty around the edges instead of rosy because of all the digging deep they had to do to acquire them. Instead of sparkling like a gem I envision these qualities looking like pieces of iron, welded together bit by bit, one uneven piece at a time, with the welding material having turned solid as it was dripping down the edges. There is a sheen to these qualities for sure, but you only can see it because of the polishing through all the different layers of grime it took to find it.

I knew immediately which quality of Eli's I wanted to share as the one our family loves and admires about her. Here is the statement I shared with the Primary.

"In our family we honor Eli for her ability to do things even when doing it makes her nervous or afraid. Eli is a very brave and courageous little girl, and her smile when she knows she's done something even though she was scared to do it makes us wish we were as brave as her."

Now. If I could just convince her that getting a new roll of paper towels from the garage (of which she's afraid to enter alone) doesn't warrant screaming usually heard by someone who is mortally wounded. Trust me when I say that little girl deserves every piece of iron that she's welding together. I wonder what it will all look like when she's done? I wonder what all of our's will look like when they're done.