This year's goal for the women's group at the church I go to is focused on living life joyfully. Sometimes that is a hard thing to remember to do when you're in the midst of the day-to-day grind. But the weekly reminder has been so helpful to me in looking for the little moments in my day that bring joy.
For example, my little boys have been sick with stuffed sinuses making it difficult for them to sleep the last few nights. The other night I was rubbing Vicks Vapo Rub on Cyprus chest when he took a huge sigh and smiled. Then he said, "I love you." Please understand. . .this is ULTRA MEGA HUGE. My son is moderate-functioning autistic with speech delays. He doesn't talk to me. He is learning sign language and that has helped a lot, but if he says anything its usually only one to two words, and rarely I love you. He only tells me that every 2-4 months.
The thing that is even more remarkable is that he's said it again yesterday. That's twice in one week. And on top of it he is doing more three word phrases, trying to actually convey what he wants. Those moments are only 1/1000th of my day, but those little moments make me want to climb Mount Everest and shout for joy.
So my one recommendation this week is to try to find those little moments of joy in your day. The more you look for them, the more you will find them.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Mommy Fails 101
When moms are tired, sick or wiped out there is related increase in what I call Mommy Fails. For the last several weeks I have increased my exercise routine by getting up at 5 am three days a week to go work out with friends. On the off days I do some sort of workout at home or go on a walk/jog in preparation for a race I'm running in June. On top of that all three of my kids have rotated going through a nasty cold (the youngest ending up with a very bad case of the croup). On top of that I'm trying to finish my edits on the book I'm currently writing in order to get it out to my beta readers in February (only a month late).
Yesterday, the fatigue finally hit and I started feeling like I was catching the kids' cold. My husband sent me to bed at 6:30 pm for a "nap" while he took care of the kids. And I slept until 6:45 am this morning. When I got up I started my usual routine--take a shower, grab the kids clothes, etc. I made sure everyone had clothes. They were in my hands, honestly they were. I got Rose dressed, and even got the baby halfway dressed. But when it came time to get Cyprus dressed, everything but his socks and undershirt had completely disappeared. I searched all over for twenty minutes before I realized that I had just picked up all the clothes on the floor from yesterday and put them into the wash -- Cyprus' clothes included. His clothes for the day were in the process of being rewashed. Oy!!!!
Then I realized ten minutes before we had to walk out the door to get Rose to her friend's house, and Cyprus on the bus that it hadn't even occurred to me to make my daughter a lunch. So I ran to the pantry and grabbed food from their 72 hour emergency kit and shoved it into her lunch box and called it good.
Finally, after I got two kids on their way to school I piled Juniper in the car to take him back to the doctor for a second visit because his croup wasn't going away and I really need him to get helpful enough to go back to school this week so I can get my edits done (I'm running out of January). While we were waiting for the doctor to come see us I was twirling Juniper around in circles on the doctor's roller chair. Just moments before the doctor stepped into the room poor Juniper lost his balance and took a dive forehead first into the floor. He has a beautiful rug-rash/goose-egg to show for it just as the doctor opened the door. I just wanted to take a face plant myself.
Oh well. In the end we're all still alive. So I guess in the long run I'm still a winner as a mom, but I really hope I've met my mommy fail limit for the day. Or else I'm just gonna have to go to bed and let my kids fend for themselves. They might be better off.
Yesterday, the fatigue finally hit and I started feeling like I was catching the kids' cold. My husband sent me to bed at 6:30 pm for a "nap" while he took care of the kids. And I slept until 6:45 am this morning. When I got up I started my usual routine--take a shower, grab the kids clothes, etc. I made sure everyone had clothes. They were in my hands, honestly they were. I got Rose dressed, and even got the baby halfway dressed. But when it came time to get Cyprus dressed, everything but his socks and undershirt had completely disappeared. I searched all over for twenty minutes before I realized that I had just picked up all the clothes on the floor from yesterday and put them into the wash -- Cyprus' clothes included. His clothes for the day were in the process of being rewashed. Oy!!!!
Then I realized ten minutes before we had to walk out the door to get Rose to her friend's house, and Cyprus on the bus that it hadn't even occurred to me to make my daughter a lunch. So I ran to the pantry and grabbed food from their 72 hour emergency kit and shoved it into her lunch box and called it good.
Finally, after I got two kids on their way to school I piled Juniper in the car to take him back to the doctor for a second visit because his croup wasn't going away and I really need him to get helpful enough to go back to school this week so I can get my edits done (I'm running out of January). While we were waiting for the doctor to come see us I was twirling Juniper around in circles on the doctor's roller chair. Just moments before the doctor stepped into the room poor Juniper lost his balance and took a dive forehead first into the floor. He has a beautiful rug-rash/goose-egg to show for it just as the doctor opened the door. I just wanted to take a face plant myself.
Oh well. In the end we're all still alive. So I guess in the long run I'm still a winner as a mom, but I really hope I've met my mommy fail limit for the day. Or else I'm just gonna have to go to bed and let my kids fend for themselves. They might be better off.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Sweet Relief
Two of my little ones were hit with a chest cold this weekend and my sweet husband is on the verge of it himself. So this morning he was able to call a wonderful woman to cover for him leading music during Sacrament meeting. Then he offered to stay home with the kids so that I could attend church all by myself. When I started driving to church I started having a panic attack. I tried to convince myself that I was going to be okay, I mean I didn't have to deal with my three kids after all. But still, I was shaky, a bit panicked, and nearly drove home to get an anxiety pill or even to cave and just stay home.
But I still made it to church without turning around. I parked in the back so that I could make a quick getaway after the women's meeting. When I made my way up to the front foyer I saw one of these sweet sisters that I've known since we first moved into the neighborhood over five years ago. She walked up to me, took me by the hand and said, "You don't know just how much I have been thinking about you this last week."
This sweet lady held me and told me how wonderful a job I was doing with my kids and how special I must be to God for him to have sent me three such uniquely special children. Then another sister came up and the first took her by the hand and the second looked at me and said, "I've been thinking so much about you since your testimony last week." And together this two grandmotherly women kept warming my heart with the love and sincere tender thoughts they had for me. Then they offered to watch my kids at any point so that I could have a break to run away for a hot chocolate and a walk. I told them that my kids were in school three days a week in the morning, but that I was grateful for their offer. The second sister said, "I love taking care of special needs children." I was overwhelmed with the kind thoughts and generous hearts of these women
Then I went into the chapel to sit on our normal pew. I figured since I was alone I would scoot to the far end so that I could share it with anyone who needed a seat. Then my deer friend who sits in front of us (her daughters are our babysitters) offered for me to join them. A few moments later an older couple came in behind us and asked if the bench were saved for anyone. I told them we usually sit there, but as I was alone I was glad for them to take the bench. As the woman sat down she looked at me closer and said, "I've been thinking about you....."
I then had a wonderful experience in Sunday School learning much as we were introduced to studying the New Testament again this year. I was so touched and learned some things I didn't know, even though I've studied these scriptures before. Then I went to Relief Society and was again spiritually fed.
When I got home I felt more peace than I've had in months. I gave my husband a huge kiss, and hugged my children a little closer. I put in an after lunch movie for the kids and was holding my sick Rose when the phone rang. It was the first sister from church. "So when can we babysit on Wednesday? How's 8 am - 5 pm sound?"
My jaw dropped. I explained that my kids had school in the morning, but she still offered for her and her friend to come over in the afternoon so I could run away for some me time. My heart is filled to the brim with love and gratitude for this day, for this experience, and for these amazing women that God has sent to me to help when times are rough. Today I am truly blessed.
.
But I still made it to church without turning around. I parked in the back so that I could make a quick getaway after the women's meeting. When I made my way up to the front foyer I saw one of these sweet sisters that I've known since we first moved into the neighborhood over five years ago. She walked up to me, took me by the hand and said, "You don't know just how much I have been thinking about you this last week."
This sweet lady held me and told me how wonderful a job I was doing with my kids and how special I must be to God for him to have sent me three such uniquely special children. Then another sister came up and the first took her by the hand and the second looked at me and said, "I've been thinking so much about you since your testimony last week." And together this two grandmotherly women kept warming my heart with the love and sincere tender thoughts they had for me. Then they offered to watch my kids at any point so that I could have a break to run away for a hot chocolate and a walk. I told them that my kids were in school three days a week in the morning, but that I was grateful for their offer. The second sister said, "I love taking care of special needs children." I was overwhelmed with the kind thoughts and generous hearts of these women
Then I went into the chapel to sit on our normal pew. I figured since I was alone I would scoot to the far end so that I could share it with anyone who needed a seat. Then my deer friend who sits in front of us (her daughters are our babysitters) offered for me to join them. A few moments later an older couple came in behind us and asked if the bench were saved for anyone. I told them we usually sit there, but as I was alone I was glad for them to take the bench. As the woman sat down she looked at me closer and said, "I've been thinking about you....."
I then had a wonderful experience in Sunday School learning much as we were introduced to studying the New Testament again this year. I was so touched and learned some things I didn't know, even though I've studied these scriptures before. Then I went to Relief Society and was again spiritually fed.
When I got home I felt more peace than I've had in months. I gave my husband a huge kiss, and hugged my children a little closer. I put in an after lunch movie for the kids and was holding my sick Rose when the phone rang. It was the first sister from church. "So when can we babysit on Wednesday? How's 8 am - 5 pm sound?"
My jaw dropped. I explained that my kids had school in the morning, but she still offered for her and her friend to come over in the afternoon so I could run away for some me time. My heart is filled to the brim with love and gratitude for this day, for this experience, and for these amazing women that God has sent to me to help when times are rough. Today I am truly blessed.
.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Sunday Batttle/Sunday Humor
My three miracle children make life interesting. One of them has Sensory Processing Disorder. Another is moderate-functioning autistic. The third is severally communication delayed with aggressive behavior. But they are mine and I am grateful for every day spent with them.
Though, I do have to admit, that preparing for church sometimes feels like I'm preparing for battle when I get ready each Sunday. I make sure to take an anxiety pill. I pack a bag filled with coloring books, crayons, dry erase boards, markers, word cards, math cards, quiet folders & puzzles, three different types of snacks, cups of water for everyone, diapers, pull-ups, wipes, changes of clothes, etc.
Today church moved to 9 am with the new year. I've been looking forward to it as church will no longer be during the kids' nap time. I was hoping it would make them less grumpy and regularize their routine better as they go to school at the same time during the week. In many ways it was easier because we were able to get them fed and ready and out the door. The one problem was that they were also more energetic and to explore and run wild.
My wonderful husband leads the music during our church meeting, so he sits up on the stand. When he can, he sneaks off the stand to sit with us (especially on hard days). Today my kids were such a handful I didn't think we were going to even make it past the opening prayer. Even Frank could see how much I was struggling from the stand. As soon as the sacrament portion of the meeting was over Frank ran down to help.
Today, being the first Sunday the congregation has the opportunity to bare their testimonies. I told Frank that I really wanted to bare mine, if he was okay with the kids. He readily agreed. I was the second person to get up and when it was my turn I started to talk about how things had been rough for the last three years and how I am learning that trials can be a blessing. I talked about some of the struggles my kids experience and how they trigger each others sensitivities. And just as I was talking about how they were God's children first and that he would help me to understand them and to help them my Autistic son bolts out of the pew and runs all the way through the back of the church and climbs up on the stage and starts to dance, play and sing. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I'm just truly grateful for the chance my kids give me to become a better person and a better mother. And I'm grateful for the patience church congregation and fantastic friends who supports and loves us and our quirky family. With no family close by they have stepped in and become our surrogate one. I'm amazed by the kindness, support and love we've received from everyone around us.
Sunday's may still be hard, and even a nightmare sometimes, but I've learned its worth it for me and my family to give our best effort each and every week.
Though, I do have to admit, that preparing for church sometimes feels like I'm preparing for battle when I get ready each Sunday. I make sure to take an anxiety pill. I pack a bag filled with coloring books, crayons, dry erase boards, markers, word cards, math cards, quiet folders & puzzles, three different types of snacks, cups of water for everyone, diapers, pull-ups, wipes, changes of clothes, etc.
Today church moved to 9 am with the new year. I've been looking forward to it as church will no longer be during the kids' nap time. I was hoping it would make them less grumpy and regularize their routine better as they go to school at the same time during the week. In many ways it was easier because we were able to get them fed and ready and out the door. The one problem was that they were also more energetic and to explore and run wild.
My wonderful husband leads the music during our church meeting, so he sits up on the stand. When he can, he sneaks off the stand to sit with us (especially on hard days). Today my kids were such a handful I didn't think we were going to even make it past the opening prayer. Even Frank could see how much I was struggling from the stand. As soon as the sacrament portion of the meeting was over Frank ran down to help.
Today, being the first Sunday the congregation has the opportunity to bare their testimonies. I told Frank that I really wanted to bare mine, if he was okay with the kids. He readily agreed. I was the second person to get up and when it was my turn I started to talk about how things had been rough for the last three years and how I am learning that trials can be a blessing. I talked about some of the struggles my kids experience and how they trigger each others sensitivities. And just as I was talking about how they were God's children first and that he would help me to understand them and to help them my Autistic son bolts out of the pew and runs all the way through the back of the church and climbs up on the stage and starts to dance, play and sing. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I'm just truly grateful for the chance my kids give me to become a better person and a better mother. And I'm grateful for the patience church congregation and fantastic friends who supports and loves us and our quirky family. With no family close by they have stepped in and become our surrogate one. I'm amazed by the kindness, support and love we've received from everyone around us.
Sunday's may still be hard, and even a nightmare sometimes, but I've learned its worth it for me and my family to give our best effort each and every week.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Remembering The Whys
The last few months have been more than a bit overwhelming, to the point that I've had multiple doctors make sure that I was on anti-depressants or anxiety medicine just because of what they heard was going on with my kids. I even had one doctor look at me and shake his head and say, "I honestly have no clue how you do it." At times like this I recall to mind what a cousin with an autistic son once posted on Facebook, "I didn't know there was a choice."
But, with the help of a lot of Santas' little elves who are making a Christmas happen that seriously would not otherwise happen, I've been reminded again why I care so much about my kids (even on the beyond hard days). It took me six years to have Rose. Six years of tests, treatments, and tears (not including all the shots multiple times a day and all the various medication I had to take to get pregnant and stay pregnant). I signed up to be a mom. With all its glorious poopy diapers, vomit encrusted pillows, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes.
Yesterday was an extremely difficult day for me. I've had insomnia the last several nights and I was dealing with a massive migraine, my ACL joint is out of whack for a week now, my own sensory overload, and I have to wait until the new year kicks off before I can see the chiropractor again about my collar bone being dislocated thanks to maxed out insurance. My kids were literally bouncing off the walls and each other. Then, as the kids were being corralled up to bed full of tears, screams and tantrums, some amazing people came by to make sure we were going to have a Christmas. And they weren't the only ones. Through the last few weeks I've had people take me aside to make sure that we were okay and that the kids would have something to open Christmas Day. I even ran out of wrapping paper yesterday trying to wrap the two gifts we were able to get the kids ourselves. And by the end of the night we heard a knock on the door. I ran downstairs to find a roll of wrapping paper left by a friend and her family wishing us Happy Wrapping.
I sat down multiple times last night and cried. We are watched over. We are cared for. There are angels all around us. And its good to remember that I have three little angels with halos sometimes a skewed living right upstairs. I wanted them in my life and I went through hell to get them here. So like Bing Crosby in the movie White Christmas I started counting my blessings. Counting all the smiles, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes that I've been blessed with over the last six and a half years. I wanted these children with all my heart, and I still do. They are my miracles, even when holidays mess with their routines and throw them out of sync.
And I'm grateful for all the wonderful friends, family, angels, and secret Santas in my life that make sure I remember the whys behind my life.
But, with the help of a lot of Santas' little elves who are making a Christmas happen that seriously would not otherwise happen, I've been reminded again why I care so much about my kids (even on the beyond hard days). It took me six years to have Rose. Six years of tests, treatments, and tears (not including all the shots multiple times a day and all the various medication I had to take to get pregnant and stay pregnant). I signed up to be a mom. With all its glorious poopy diapers, vomit encrusted pillows, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes.
Yesterday was an extremely difficult day for me. I've had insomnia the last several nights and I was dealing with a massive migraine, my ACL joint is out of whack for a week now, my own sensory overload, and I have to wait until the new year kicks off before I can see the chiropractor again about my collar bone being dislocated thanks to maxed out insurance. My kids were literally bouncing off the walls and each other. Then, as the kids were being corralled up to bed full of tears, screams and tantrums, some amazing people came by to make sure we were going to have a Christmas. And they weren't the only ones. Through the last few weeks I've had people take me aside to make sure that we were okay and that the kids would have something to open Christmas Day. I even ran out of wrapping paper yesterday trying to wrap the two gifts we were able to get the kids ourselves. And by the end of the night we heard a knock on the door. I ran downstairs to find a roll of wrapping paper left by a friend and her family wishing us Happy Wrapping.
I sat down multiple times last night and cried. We are watched over. We are cared for. There are angels all around us. And its good to remember that I have three little angels with halos sometimes a skewed living right upstairs. I wanted them in my life and I went through hell to get them here. So like Bing Crosby in the movie White Christmas I started counting my blessings. Counting all the smiles, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes that I've been blessed with over the last six and a half years. I wanted these children with all my heart, and I still do. They are my miracles, even when holidays mess with their routines and throw them out of sync.
And I'm grateful for all the wonderful friends, family, angels, and secret Santas in my life that make sure I remember the whys behind my life.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Making Science Fun
I have this amazing friend from up in Washington who is a scientist. A year ago she came down to Utah to do a presentation for the teachers who came to Life, The Universe & Everything (LTUE) symposium. I got to sit in on her presentation and quickly bought her book after seeing her make science become fun through experimenting on candy. (To read my review of her book click here: Candy Experiments.)
I took the book home and started doing some of the experiments with my 6 year old daughter. Suddenly, my Rose wanted to become a scientist. She always wanted to do more and more candy experiments.
So when my friend asked me to trail test some recipes for her second book we jumped at the chance. We had SO much fun seeing if the beta recipes would work as expected or not. And I got to spend focused and engaging time with my Rose on something she loved. It doesn't get much better than that.
Well, this week the publisher sent me a copy of Loralee's sequel, Candy Experiments 2. As soon as I showed my daughter she went nuts. We've already done a Pop Rocks experiment and today I picked up some more supplies so we can do more. I even told Rose that if she would do everything I ask her to do in the morning, then when she got home from school we would do another experiment. Oh my gosh! It was the first day in months that she didn't fight me and did not throw tantrums.
So this is my book recommendation for parents and teachers out there. If you want to have a blast with you children, show them that science can be fun, and get rid of any excess of Halloween or Easter candy from your house, then you should really get these books and get right to work.
I took the book home and started doing some of the experiments with my 6 year old daughter. Suddenly, my Rose wanted to become a scientist. She always wanted to do more and more candy experiments.
So when my friend asked me to trail test some recipes for her second book we jumped at the chance. We had SO much fun seeing if the beta recipes would work as expected or not. And I got to spend focused and engaging time with my Rose on something she loved. It doesn't get much better than that.
Well, this week the publisher sent me a copy of Loralee's sequel, Candy Experiments 2. As soon as I showed my daughter she went nuts. We've already done a Pop Rocks experiment and today I picked up some more supplies so we can do more. I even told Rose that if she would do everything I ask her to do in the morning, then when she got home from school we would do another experiment. Oh my gosh! It was the first day in months that she didn't fight me and did not throw tantrums.
So this is my book recommendation for parents and teachers out there. If you want to have a blast with you children, show them that science can be fun, and get rid of any excess of Halloween or Easter candy from your house, then you should really get these books and get right to work.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Happy Surprises
I've posted before how eventful it is to try and feed our children. They are beyond picky. Well last night I made chili and cornbread knowing fully that my kids would not eat it. As such, I made quesadillas for the kids to eat, but I still included cornbread and a dab of chili on the plates. Halfway through dinner Juniper reaches over, grabs his dad's fork and starts eating the chili. Frank was so flabbergasted he actually turned giddy. I don't know which made me more happy--seeing my son eating something other than pizza, or pb&j, or watching his dad react. It made my day.
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