Judging By Appearances

Dave, Megan, and Shannon
Megan is the baby they were carrying in to church in the story below.

When Derek and I first moved to Payson, I can remember thinking that it would be really nice to have a friend.  Derek is a great friend, but he has to go to work all day, and can't talk to me anytime I want.  One of the first weeks we attended church we sat towards the back of the chapel.  I watched my neighbors walk in. They were a beautiful family, with two children plus a new baby.  The Mom was wearing a pretty dress, had her hair was done really nice, and her makeup looked perfect, and I thought "I would never have anything in common with her!"  I've had beautiful friends before, so I'm not sure why that thought popped up.  Thankfully, we were both called to work in Primary on the music, and we quickly became friends. 

It is too easy to look at how someone is different from us in appearance and, in a stroke of foolishness, decide that because they are pretty, or ugly, or tall, or short, or in a wheelchair, or any number of other things, we probably wouldn't have anything in common with them -- and so we fail to really find out.  When we do this, we might be missing getting to know someone who would have really blessed our lives.

The friend that I foolishly thought I would have nothing in common with is my good friend Shannon.  She has saved the day for me on so many occasions that I can't even count them.  She has been fun, and kind, and compassionate.  We have a lot in common.  I shudder to think of all that I would have missed had I been allowed to follow my first thought.  Heavenly Father does not judge by appearances, but by what is in the heart, and I do not know of a more kind way that He could have reminded me that I should do the same.

The One Who Does Math, and Makes Pies

Picture from Google Images

When Derek and I were first married we were both attending BYU.  As a part of my general education I needed to take a college algebra class.  Math isn't my favorite, and I was afraid I would not do well.  I explained to Derek that my sister "Tina is the one who does math".  He asked why Tina doing math meant that I couldn't.  I figured she got all the math talent, and I didn't.  I had some pretty good memories of how I was NOT a genius at math during high school, and how it seemed easy for her.  This must mean I just couldn't do it, right?

Then one day my sister Jenny called to discuss assignments for Thanksgiving Dinner.  When we were talking about pies she said something like, "Oh, Tina is the one who makes pies."  I got off the phone and told Derek what she had said, and I also told him, in a slightly incensed voice, that I could make perfectly delicious pies!  I suspect he found this amusing and used it to prove the point he had been trying to make.  Just because one person in the family is good at something, doesn't mean someone else in the family can't be good at it too!  This is true even if it comes easier to one person than another.

I did take that college algebra class, and thanks to Derek's good tutoring, I got an A.  Of course I always liked algebra better than geometry or trigonometry, which seem to leave me feeling lost and empty headed, but I'm still rather proud that I did so well in college algebra.  I had been using my own faulty logic to excuse me from trying something that is hard for me.  Just because someone else is good at something, and it seems to come easier to them than to me, doesn't mean I couldn't do it.  Probably, if I wanted to badly enough, I too could be one who does math -- and makes pies!

Valentine's With the Avengers

 I think I have a future writing Valentines.  At eleven last night I was writing Avengers poetry for everyone that lived at home.  Don't worry, Trisa and Tia were not neglected -- but their poetry wasn't about the Avengers and I can't remember their cheesy poems.  Here are the ones I wrote last night.  I'm feeling rather pleased with myself.  Enjoy!

Dan's Valentine:  Thor has a hammer, Iron Man has a suit, I hope you enjoy Your Valentine's loot.

Jake's:  Avengers are awesome, They can save the day, When Thor swings his hammer, get out of the way!  And have a great day.

Connor's:  The Hulk has big muscles, Iron Man has a gun, And today we both hope, That you will have fun.

Kayli's:  Iron Man is red, The Hulk is green, And you are so awesome, It's like a good dream.

Mine (yes I wrote one for me too -- I didn't want to be left out!)  Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, and the rest, are all pretty great but my family is best!

Derek's: The Avengers are smart, Some are handsome too, But those great Avengers Have nothing on you!

And here's an extra one for you!  Thor has his hammer, And lightning too, But I do not think, He's as awesome as you!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Receiving Gifts Graciously

These flowers are beautiful, and I am happy to report that I received them very graciously.  However, I have another memory where I did not do well at all.  It was almost time for Derek to come home, and I was grumpy.  Somehow (and this is odd) I had the feeling that Derek was going to bring me flowers, and I knew that they would be light pink carnations.  I grumpily wanted bright colored flowers.  Even with this advanced knowledge (or suspicion) of what was coming, I handled Derek's very thoughtful gesture ungraciously.

Derek had taken time out of his day to go to a store and pick up perfectly lovely flowers for me, and when he presented them, I reacted badly.  His face fell.  My heart sank.  I had disappointed him, and myself.  I knew then that I didn't deserve those flowers, and that I might never get any again, and I would deserve that too.  I apologized, but felt I couldn't really apologize enough.

Thankfully Derek is kind, and before too long he bravely brought me some beautiful red carnations, which I received in a much more gracious fashion.  However, I still wish that I had reacted to the lovely pink carnations with the same generosity that Derek showed in giving them.  Even if I hadn't felt gracious, but had acted graciously, I would have felt SO much better.  I do not believe we will ever regret receiving gifts graciously!

Jake's 11th Happy Birthday

Yesterday was Jake's birthday.  It was a good day for him.  It started out bright and early with presents, progressed to his class at school singing to him, moved ahead to him eating a giant brownie (after blowing out candles), included him eating his chosen meal of ravioli for dinner, transitioned into movie time, with a slight interruption from his college sisters who sang to him, and concluded with night snack, traditional scripture time, and hugs.  Dan was sick, but it was a mostly good day.  Here are some pictures:

 

Jake Had Fun!

I have taken to asking Jake if he had fun, or enjoyed the different activities that he does.  I almost always get a shrug with the comment, "sort of", or "a little".  I tease him about this, and he smiles, but still doesn't describe his activities with much enthusiasm.  However, when he came home from his birthday date with his Grandma and Grandpa C. and I asked if he had fun he smiled really big and said "Yes!" 

They took him to Wendy's where he ate all of his chicken nuggets, all of his fries, and his frosty.  He went to the BYU art museum and saw the Monsters and Heroes exhibit.  I'm afraid he didn't find the artwork very impressive (his words) so that was only -- shrug -- "okay".  Then he got to pick his own present.  He was extremely pleased about that and worked for quite a long time after he got home until he had his Lego Chima Eris Eagle put together.

I love Jake, and am continually trying to figure out what he enjoys the most.  I'm thankful for Grandparents that love him too, and spend time and money making him really happy.  Jake does enjoy grandparents, and all the nice things they do!  He's smart that way.

When Life Seems Intolerable . . .

Sherie and Jake

You may just need a nap.  Being tired seems to have a big affect on me.  When I am tired I get frustrated and angry easier, and I cry a LOT.  Problems seem big, and unsolvable.  However, if I can just manage to sleep, a lot of times those "problems" disappear.  They were caused more by my exhaustion than by reality.  So, if everyone is seeming unreasonable, and unhelpful, and is generally "making" you mad, you might just try a nap.  It usually works for me.

Hovering

image from clker.com
Me being a "helicopter" parent and hovering.

Jake and Dan went to get fillings at the dentist on Wednesday.  They each had almost identical little cavities that needed to be taken care of.  As the ladies came and called their names, not at the same time, I stayed seated.  I realized that this is a novelty for me.  I don't want to be absent when my children need me, and I tend to hover nearby "just in case".  In thinking about this tendency I have realized that, while it is good to want to help, I may sometimes be doing them a disservice.

I have perfectly capable children, and it is possible that my hovering communicates the message to them that they can't do this (whatever this happens to be) without me.  Jake and Dan managed getting those fillings on their own, and were very well liked by their helpers.  It would be good for me to remember that maybe I will be helping them more by letting them handle things on their own.  They can do it, even without me hovering nearby!

Neither Do I Condemn Thee

image from productoscolombianos.net

If you read enough of these, you will come to realize that I have had to learn the same lessons over and over again.  I especially seem to be susceptible to the idea that I am not good enough, or that I am somehow a failure, or any number of negative depressing thoughts that end in a good I'm not perfect yet pity party.  On a particularly hard morning I was crying, though I no longer recollect what I thought was so bad about me that day, and I knelt to pray.

In desperation I asked Heavenly Father to just tell me one good thing about me.  Then I was still, and listened.  A scripture came to mind almost immediately, and its words ran through my head.  The scripture was John 3:16 and 17.  I was particularly struck by the words from the 17th verse:  "For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." 

I realized that I had been condemning myself for my human failings, but that God had not been condemning me at all.  I am His daughter. Isn't that one very good thing about me?  He loves me.  He sent the Savior to help me, and certainly not to make me miserable.  Learning is a process.  Heavenly Father knows my name, my strengths, and my weaknesses, and He sent the Savior to help me.  It is not my place to condemn anyone, even me.

It's Okay to say No!

 

When my girls were young, and I spent a lot of time with my friend Shannon, Derek would occasionally help us practice saying no.  I think he saw and heard how busy we were, and knew that we were inclined to sign every volunteer sheet that came by.  I have a lot of friends and family who have this same inclination, and who accomplish many good things.  I have been known to feel guilt if I pass by a sign up sheet without adding my name to it, but I have learned that sometimes it really is okay to do that.  Sometimes saying no is the right thing to do.

I have learned, before signing up to help with something, or volunteering, that I should think about it in relation to my priorities.  For example, will saying yes take me away from my home at times where I feel it is important that I am present?  I like to be home when my kids are going and coming.  If saying yes takes me away at those times then I'm more inclined to say no -- depending on if it is a one time thing, or a regular thing that I am agreeing to. 

I have even learned to take into consideration what I like to do.  I have been a room mother several times and I finally figured out that I really hate that job.  Even after I knew this, I agreed one more time because nobody else would do it, but I avoid being the room mom if possible.  I do like to help though, and so I decide in what ways and at what times I can help at school, and I am happier.  I don't mind helping with parties, and I love to help kids read, or spell, or write, or even do math (as long as it's pretty basic math).

As with everything, there needs to be a balance.  If I say yes to every opportunity to help, I get frantically busy, tired, and cranky.  If I don't say yes enough, then I miss out on opportunities to make a positive difference, feel guilty, and not very useful.  Not everything that I agree to do needs to match my schedule perfectly and be something I like to do, but I have learned that it is okay to consider those things because when I'm not frantically busy, tired, and cranky I am obviously happier, and that helps my family to be happier too.

Give a Miracle

image from www.values.com

Written on my white board in big green letters is the word GIVE.  My friend Marcy comes up with one word a year to represent her goals or resolutions.  I like this idea, and thought I would like to pick a word too.  There are obviously many words I could have chosen and benefited from, but this one felt right for now.  The question is, what and how should I give?

To come up with ideas I thought of the many times that people have given to me.  I have realized that often, without even knowing it, those who have helped me have created a miracle in my day.  For example, in The Multiplication of Smiles I mentioned that one girl's kind comment and cheery smile turned my day around.  Her thoughtful act has continued to influence my thinking, and has changed my life for the better.

Another night I was walking to campus in the dark for a late class.  A girl came up beside me.  I did not know her, but she struck up a conversation with me.  She asked me questions and seemed genuinely interested.  I went from feeling a little lonely, to feeling that my thoughts mattered to someone.  It made such a difference in my outlook that I have remembered, and been thankful for this stranger for many, many years.

There are so many ways that people have given to me.  I remember my Mom giving a listening ear, and compassion as I fought homesickness the first night in a new place.  I remember my Aunt giving me a comforting hug after I had been in an accident on the way to her house.  I remember neighbors tending children, offering money, and willingly watering the patch of yard we never got to.  I have been given notes, and email, and the benefit of the doubt.  I have been given friendship, food, love, ideas, perspective, and wonderful things.  Each of these gifts, and more that I have not listed, have been a miracle to me.  These gifts have helped to lift me up when I was down, and to heal the hurt from the sorrows and worries I was dealing with on that day.

I like the idea of giving.  The kind of things I have been given, I can give to someone too.  Everyone has something large, or small, that they can give every day.  We may never know the result of the things that we give, but it is possible that when we choose to give, we will be giving someone a miracle.

Remembering my "Sweet Boy" Dan

Trisa was almost 16 when Dan was born.  She and our other kids were worried that something would go wrong when their baby brother was born, so Derek made sure to call their schools as soon as possible to let them know all was well.  We found Trisa's note this weekend still pinned to the bulletin board she left behind when she went to college.  It read, "9:30 Her brother was born & is fat and healthy".  This was true and was a relief to all of us.  He was my biggest baby, and the Dr. thought he looked muscly when he was born.

I have often mentioned that I had decided I was just going to enjoy this baby.  In my mind he would be perfectly healthy, and fairly stress free.  Then he had Torticollis which made his head fall one direction and led to him always laying the same way and making his skull funny shaped.  Then we found out he was allergic to milk, and eggs, and peanuts.  Then we discovered he had asthma.  I kept mourning my plan to have a perfectly healthy, no problem baby, but I did not give up on my plan to enjoy him, and Dan is easy to enjoy.

I like this description from my journal:  Dan "is such a fun little boy.  He gets into everything and I call him my Tornado.  He says quite a few real words and lots of pseudo words.  He's very fast at sliding downstairs on his belly and he likes to follow his brothers and sisters down there.  He'll bang on Tia's door and yell for her.  It's cute and pesky to her at the same time.  He's a lot of work, but we aren't really in a hurry for him to grow up either."

One night Dan kept yelling in his room and he wanted to sit on the couch.  He fell asleep there and so I put a blanket on him and went to bed.  At three in the morning he knocked on our bedroom door and said, "I'm all done sleeping on the couch." and so we put him to bed. 

One of his prayers, obviously said while he was looking around, was "Thankful for Kayli, Mom, Jake, Tia, Dad, and not Trisa because she's at college, and Connor ..."  He is actually very thankful for Trisa and has been sad on more than one occasion that she is at college.  He gives her big hugs when she comes home, and is always hoping that this time she'll stay.  He loves Tia too.  She was always so good at talking to him when he was done with Kindergarten, and one of the things that I missed the most when she went to college was her conversations with Dan. 

Dan hasn't stopped saying amusing things yet.  He was explaining to me just the other day how he knew that monsters were real.  He went on and on about that, and his club, and how you get your "powers" after you fight a monster.  He apparently has his powers from fighting an invisible man on the playground.  Enjoying Dan is easy.  He is fun, has great moves (which, unfortunately, he has gotten shy about sharing), loves his family, likes group hugs, and generally lives his life with enthusiasm.  He really is a sweet boy.

Remembering Super Jake

In my journal I described Jake's birth this way:  Jake came out feet first.  I could hear the nurses, "Oh!  Look at those little feet!  And that cute little bottom."  And then, "He's definitely a boy."  Then Jake cried, and me too because I was so happy.

Jake's birthday was very, very happy.  His birth went well, and I felt better after his birth than with any of the others.  These were all blessings, as was the talent of the surgeons who fixed his heart defects, and the family and friends who supported us through it all.  I remember seeing Jake right after his surgery.  He looked so good, and I leaned down and whispered in his ear that I loved him and he should try to get better as fast as he could.  I had the feeling that he understood me, and would do it.  He has always amazed his doctors with how well he has done, and I know that faith and prayers contributed to his quick recovery and continued good health.

Jake started to walk at 9 months old.  He was little and I remember putting him down on his feet at church once and having someone gasp because they thought he was maybe four months old.  He has always had incredible balance and would do dangerous things and be fine.  I liked taking pictures of Jake because he got into so many things.  I wrote, "...he got out a pizza pan and sat on it and he is incredibly pleased with himself when he knows he's being naughty.  It is hard to keep a straight face when he's being so full of glee!"  He liked to fake burp at the table and laugh, and fake sneeze with his sisters.  When he was one I wrote "He climbs anywhere his leg will reach."

Jake loved the "phone, phone" and could be found sitting on my bed with it any time I left the door to my room open.  He loved his shoes because they meant he got to go outside.  He'd give his shoes to someone and lay down and stick his feet up so they would put the shoes on him.  He went most everywhere with me, and was mostly a good shopping buddy, but he thought it was very funny to hide from me, which I didn't enjoy.

Jake hasn't ever been a real fan of food.  It has always been a struggle to get him to eat.  He gagged on everything, and the only thing that seemed to stop that was Derek yelling "don't gag!" at him.  We tried to get some nutritional food down him, including baby food green beans which Derek nicknamed pond scum.  So one night Jake was saying his prayer and he said "thankful I could eat carrots, pond scum, and dananas" (bananas).

 

Jake wasn't great at sleeping either.  I don't think he slept through the night much until he was five.  Once he wasn't sleeping and he yelled "I scary, I scary!"  He's really not a scary boy.  He is compassionate, and kind.  He's an excellent brother and he's smart too.  We are thankful for Super Jake.