Pop-Up Halloween

The Nasty Web of Selfishness

Sometimes, I can be a brat. I have been a brat for a few weeks now. I even went "on strike" last Monday. On Tuesday, Macy whispered to her dad, "I think Mom forgot that she is on strike." I laughed...in private of course. Because a brat can never let other people see that they made her happy. I think a mix of stress, exhaustion, hormones, expectations, and self-pity created a nasty bomb that exploded in some serious self-loathing and extreme selfishness and snottiness at our house. And it exploded all over my husband.

I am so very sorry.

Then, I got the flu.

I pointed to heaven and told God, "Okay. I think I understand. Things can always be much, much worse." To think I felt overwhelmed when I had a healthy body. With the aches and pains and sweats and chills that came with the sickness, I could hardly function at all.

So, I apologized (yet again) to my wonderful husband, and we passionately pressed our cheeks together (remember: contagious flu = no kissing) and he forgave me

immediately.

Then he went forth taking care of me and my sweet Paige (who also had the flu). He is my great teacher. He is so quick to forgive and forget. He does not bring up the past. He just loves me, in spite of my brattiness and selfishness. I feel so grateful to be able to walk through this life with a man like that. This time, I knelt down and thanked my Heavenly Father for giving him to me.

A couple of thoughts on marriage:

My mom got me listening to Dr. Lund. For those of you who don't know, he is a therapist and inspirational speaker in the LDS community. Last week, I had to drive to Ogden for a meeting. I was all alone, except for Spencer, but a five-month-old isn't very chatty yet. So, I put on this talk tape:

I have listened to it before - several times. I love it, and I highly recommend it to anyone. He just brings up so many points on how to love unconditionally. But this time, one sentence has been marinating in my mind all week. He quotes a Stake President that told him that the single most cause of anxiety in his calling is "women who don't appreciate their husbands."

Consumed in my brattiness, in my Pity-Poor-Me attitude, I was nitpicking my husband. I wasn't appreciating the million-and-one things that he does to make my life easier and our home a happy place. I was focusing on the faults. He has them. Guess what? So do I. So do you. It's called "being human." But his strengths outnumber his faults substantially. His strengths compliment my faults beautifully. And guess what? My strengths compliment his faults beautifully. As difficult as it is for a person so consumed in selfish thinking, I forced myself to start counting the ways in which I appreciate him. I compiled a mental list that is outstanding. I intend to write that list down and give it to him. It is probably going to look a lot like Santa's list (paper flowing down to the ground and around the room). I have so much to be grateful for.

Dr. Lund also reminded me of another point: His philosophy of a wish versus a goal. He asserts that a wish is something that is dependent on others. A goal is something that is dependent on us. He uses a missionary example to illustrate his point. When a missionary sets a goal to baptize 10 people the following month, it isn't really a goal, it is a wish because it depends on the willingness of other people. But, a missionary can make a goal to get up early, study the scriptures diligently, pray with his/her companion, follow all the mission rules, and work hard. All of that is within his/her control.

A little over a month ago, we were challenged by the Stake Presidency to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year. That meant that we would have to read approximately six pages a night. We decided that in order to accomplish this goal, we would get ready for bed (jammies, brushed teeth, prayers, etc) and put our kids in their beds - lights out. Then, we would sit in the hallway and read out loud. All the promises of conference talks over the years came back to me. I heard about all these great promised blessings of holding regular scripture study. I created images of angelic children, anxiously hanging on our every word, falling asleep with the words of the Lord ringing in their ears, and complete family harmony to follow in the morning when they all woke up.

Let's just say that wasn't exactly what has happened. More often than not, I find myself telling kids to stop talking, stop kicking the wall, stop clicking their tongues, stop begging for a glass of water, stop crying, stop...stop...stop! Harmonious is not quite the word I would use to describe our scripture study time. I realized that it was a wish that I had for my children to fall in love with the scriptures. I have no control over the way in which they receive this information. I quickly re-evaluated my thinking. My goal is now to read every night and not chastise my children at all during this time. The harmony is beginning to seep into our home again.

It is my wish that my husband absolutely adore me, even when I'm not so adorable. It is my goal to be more appreciative of my husband. It is my goal to find a way every day to express my gratitude to him.

One of my favorite things to do with my kids is read with them. This is quite possibly when I am at my best as a mother. I'm not so great at playing Polly Pocket or "warring" with Pokemon cards (those are the strengths of my husband), but we do enjoy cuddling up with a good book. It has become a tradition that I read books out loud to my kids while they eat breakfast, and then we watch the movie based on the book. Greg sets up the projector in our basement and we watch the movie on "the wall" - our own little home theater. We blow up the air mattress, pop popcorn, and the kids are in heaven. A few years ago, we read "Because of Winn-Dixie" by Kate DiCamillo. This young girl befriends people in a small Florida town. One of the older women of the town gives the young girl some advice: "You just got to love it while you got it, and that's that."

I watch time slipping away from me. It is so easy for me to see that sweet little towhead toddler running around my house. He brought me so much joy. Now, he is eight years old already. In a few very short years, he'll be in Jr. High. We will no longer be the center of his universe. I just need to love my children while I've got them. They won't be here forever.

I just need to love my husband while I've got him. I don't know what the future brings. Hopefully, we will be celebrating his 94th birthday together (just like we recently celebrated the 94th birthday of his grandmother). The reality is that we only have the guarantee of today...this hour...this minute. And I desperately want my children and husband to feel loved, respected, and appreciated.

This is my goal: To love more deeply and show that love more often (and to leave that selfish little brat that has possessed me lately on the doorstep).

Ironically, when I give up that selfishness, and start to look outside of myself, I am so much happier, so much more at peace with myself and my life. Everything has more color, more beauty, more...more...more! God is tricky like that. The more we give, the more we receive. That is especially true with love. (Why did I ever think that being a snot was going to bring me more love?!? Doesn't make sense!)

A Monday Sampler: Follow Up

When I picked Macy up from school today, she gave me this:

It is supposedly Braxton's phone number. However, I'm not convinced. It could be a phone number, zip code, or partial Social Security Number. Not quite sure.

He also gave her this:

It is not the actual movie, but one of the inserts that comes from another Disney DVD. Basically, an advertisement. Macy is downright giddy over the gift. She told me, "Braxton saw this and just knew I would love it. His mommy said he could give it to me." She "read" it all the way home.

I'm beginning to like Braxton.

He sure knows how to make my little girl smile.

From what I remember, that is an important trait in a boyfriend.

A Monday Sampler

Can I just say how much I LOVED Conference this year?!? It was exactly what I needed. I especially love how certain speakers can touch the hearts of different individuals. There were so many talks that I truly enjoyed. But Elder Bednar's talk spoke to my soul.

Sometimes I wonder why I try so hard when it seems like I'm the only one who cares (including my husband, at times). I feel like much of my families reaction to me is (with rolled eyes), "Just suck it up and do it so Mom doesn't get upset." But, after listening to Elder Bednar's talk, especially the part where one of his boys complained about his brother "breathing his air" during FHE, I felt renewed. I just need to be consistent and loving, and hopefully the cumulative effect will be a positive one.

* * *

As mothers, do you ever realize how often your kids step on your toes. I'm speaking literally here. My kids are always stepping on my toes, usually when they have shoes on and I don't. Sometimes, it really hurts.

* * *

Paige is really into playing "pretend family" lately. She is the mom, Dad is the "honey" (translation: child), I am "Jen," and Spencer and Kade become "Chase" and "Cash." Then, her doll is generally Pence (Spence). I watched her take care of her Spence the other day. She really is quite a good little mommy. She fed him the remaining half-ounce out of the real Spencer's bottle (and wiped up the milk mess afterward because Pretend Spence's mouth doesn't actually open to drink the real milk). She changed diapers, wrapped him up in a blanket, gave him kisses and sang a little song, then put him in the swing for a nap. I was hoping that she would then go into the kitchen and start on the dishes or grab the scrubber and start on the toilet, but instead she picked up her cell phone and called Taelyn for a little chat. Hmmm...

* * *

I found this note in Austin's backpack the other day (I blocked out the actual address). Austin is oblivious. When I asked him about Megan, he spoke about her in the same vein as Parker or Kaeden.

I also sat through an entire dinner conversation the other day when Maddie and Macy were talking about the boys that are "so cute" in their class. Braxton is Macy's boyfriend. She also thinks that Bryce is cute, but Braxton is just "so cute." Is this supposed to happen in Kindergarten? I thought I had a few more years? I'm sure Braxton is oblivious as Austin, but Macy clearly has her first serious crush. I think it may be crushing her dad.

* * *

I totally got sucked into the Yankee/Angels game Saturday night and went to bed way, way too late. I was lying on the couch, unable to move. I could hardly keep my eyes open. Greg suggested (several times) that I should go to bed. But for some reason, it was really, really important that I knew the outcome of that game. The drama of live baseball just caught me. I really love baseball! I can't believe after all of it that the Angels lost! And on such a silly error. I love rooting for the underdog (and anyone who plays against the Yankees)!

* * *

Macy's new compliment: Mom, you are A.M.A.Z.I.N.G!

* * *

I watched Stephanie Nielsen (Nie Nie) on Oprah a few weeks ago. I think she is A.M.A.Z.I.N.G! I wished that Oprah would have dug a little deeper into her inner strength and beliefs. One way that Stephanie has inspired me is to take more pride in dinner for my family. I have tried so hard lately to put my heart and soul into preparing meals for my family. Although they are consumed far too quickly, or not at all (food is simply pushed around the plate), it is something that I am trying to do for my family because I want to show them more love. Sometimes I get it right; sometimes I don't. Sometimes we have a mealtime full of laughter and chattiness; sometimes we are rushed and grumpy. But, we are trying and I am grateful to Stephanie and her family for being so open and sharing their examples.

* * *

A couple of weeks ago, I walked past a mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. I was carrying a baby (not sure which one) in my arms. He was facing me and I was kissing his head. I stopped and looked at myself for a minute, then I kissed his head again. The last month or so has been difficult. I have felt so irritable and disconnected. Disconnected with friends. Disconnected with my husband. Definitely disconnected with my kids. I have felt like a robot - a grumpy robot. We have been doing what we "are supposed to do" again. We've reinstated a lot of things that dropped off when the twins were born. Family scripture study (pretty darn regularly - as in every night), family prayer (sometimes it feels like we pray all day long), and even regular Family Home Evening. And I haven't felt much of the promised blessings yet. If anything, I've felt even more contention.

But, that glimpse in the mirror has stayed with me. It comes back often. When I am cradling a crying spell, or holding Paige on my lap to read a night-night story, or wrapping towels around wet, clean little bodies. I think a baby in my arms definitely improves my appearance. I love having these little ones with me. How can I enjoy my family and my kids more? What am I missing?

It Takes a Village

The other night, everybody enjoyed the BYU Game while I was the babysitter. Okay, not everybody, but Greg went with some work people and Lisa and Matt went as well. Thankfully, my mom took Austin and Macy for the night to spend some quality time together. So, from 4:00 until midnight, I played mom to one two-year-old and three five-month-olds (well, almost five months). I'd by lying if I didn't admit to slight nervousness and anticipation. But, I think we did quite well. After figuring out how to fit three babies into a two-seater stroller, we actually left the house and went for a walk. We even managed dinner and all four kids slept at some point through the evening. There was one brief spell when all four were crying: I had just put Paige to bed (her tantrum was to express her disapproval) and as fate would have it, hunger pains hit all three babies at exactly the same time. The grim reality was that they would simply have to wait in line as I slowly, but diligently worked my way through three simultaneous feedings. Overall though, I would call the evening a success.

At one point, I was holding my nephew, trying to get him to finish his bottle before he succumbed to drowsiness. Just minutes earlier, I had changed him and put him in his pajamas. As I cuddled him, I thought about the fact that at some point in my life (of which I can remember very little), I undoubtably had several caretakers. It is a given that my parents changed my diaper, fed me, rocked me, bathed me, cared for me when I was sick, etc. I remember taking care of my first child in his first few weeks of life. One day, a flood of emotion hit me as I stood over his bassinet, having just changed him. I remember being overwhelmed by the fact that two other people loved me this much and took care of me so unselfishly for so many years. I sobbed and contemplated my new understanding of "Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother." Even though we are adults, we are definitely not equal. Through years of unselfish service, they have earned a different level of respect. The other night, as I held Cash, I realized the obvious: there were others.

Memories for me come like they do in the movies. I just have little snippets of the past that I can pull up like looking up my favorite videos on YouTube. I watch most of the scenes from above (as if I'm Scrooge, peering through the windows of my past). Occasionally, I watch the scene from my own five-year-old or eleven-year-old eyes.

I recall a time when I was sitting on my grandmother's lap (I was probably around Macy's age at the time). We were in her spare bedroom, sitting in a rocking chair by the bed. They had this huge bed (it seemed huge to my three-and-a-half foot frame) that was old so you could see the box springs. As a kid, I was fascinated by those box springs and just how uncomfortable that bed was. My grandmother was reading me a story, and I threw up all over the book. I remember her patiently picking me up, taking me into the hall bathroom (the one with the pink sinks), and just taking care of everything. I can almost recall feeling sick, and I can definitely recall her patience in the situation.

I recall moving the chair and coffee tables out of the way and laying out sleeping bags on the floor of the living room of my other grandparents house. I'm sure they were taking care of us while my parents enjoyed Date Night. I remember countless Sunday dinners at her home, and I also recall all four of us sitting in the bathtub at their house when we had chickenpox.

I recall staying with my Aunt while my parents were out of town. For some reason, I recall being in her Provo home when she asked what I wanted to eat while my parents were gone. I said, "Lucky Charms." (I do not recall if she got them for me.)

I recall sleeping out on the trampoline at my other Aunt's house with all of my cousins. I also recall countless camping trips with this aunt. She would walk us to the bathroom, help cut up our food as we all sat around a huge picnic table, and always sang to us.

I even recall the morning after my brother was born. I remember opening the door to our bedroom and seeing our neighbor walking down the hall carrying a basket of laundry. She had spent the night with us since Gavin was born at 10:30 at night.

I recall staying with another friend when my parents were out of town. I remember being in their kitchen and requesting Sloppy Joe's for dinner. (I also recall that I didn't eat the Sloppy Joe's because they didn't taste the same as when my mom made them. My friend's mom wasn't too happy with me.) Afterward, I remember going down their stairs in a sleeping bag and camping out in their living room.

So many people that loved me and cared for me. And there have been so many to love and care for my own children. My sisters and brother have all taken their turns changing diapers, fixing meals, reading stories, rocking babies, feeding bottles, and tucking my own children into bed. My parents and Greg's parents have shown countless acts of love and kindness toward my children as they have assisted us in raising our own little brood. So many neighbors have welcomed my children into their homes, taught them in Primary, and displayed so much love and patience. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such good, good people who have loved me and my family.

From the bottom of my heart: Thank You!

A few adorable pics of Mr. Cash and Abby and Max:

A Thursday Sampler

Last night, Macy came up to me and said, "Wanna see what Austin showed me?" Then she stuck her tongue out, held it with her hand, and said "Apple." Fabulous.

* * *

Since the kids are out of school today, Greg and I spent a lazy morning in bed with five kids climbing in and out. It was so relaxing to lie there and enjoy my kids. They were playing a lively game where Macy was the dog, Paige was the Mom, Austin was the dad, and Greg was the "honey" (kid). Austin was searching for a few brownie points (which he desperately needed - see previous "Apple" comment), so he decided to change Spencer and Kade's diapers so we could stay in bed. A few hours later, I picked Kade up to discover that his side was soaked. So, I decided I would put the boys in the tub with the girls. As I stripped Kade's clothing, I discovered that Austin put the diaper on backward. No wonder it wasn't working properly. Good intentions though, Bud, and quite tricky to fasten the diaper in the back!

* * *

Greg took Austin to piano lessons on his way out to run some errands. As usual, Austin was moving "like molasses in January" (to quote my husband). Finally, Greg announced that it was time to leave. Austin jumped up and Greg said, "What is wrong with your socks?" He lifted Austin's pant-leg to discover the heel of the sock halfway up his leg. Austin was wearing Greg's socks. Hilarious!

* * *

Paige is starting to say her own prayers. I love them. She covers the usual bases: Mom, Dad, Austin, Macy, and the "tins". She often includes Nana, Papa, Gampa and Gampa (she doesn't say "Grandma"). Taelyn is always at the top of the list. Then, she starts looking around the room to fill the space. "Tank you por my pillow. Tank you por my aminal book. Tank you por my soos." Hilarious!

She also adds syllables to certain words, and it cracks me up. She is so precise in her pronunciation. Some of the ones that I can remember off the top of my head: Tae-a-lyn, safe-a-ly

She says Dora (as in Dora the Explorer) as D-D-D-D-D-Dora. "Mom, I want to watch D-D-D-D-D-Dora."

* * *

My mom was cleaning and conquering some of the piles in her house. She found the Mother's Day cards that Austin and Macy made for me. Since I was in the hospital, the kids went to church with my parents. In Primary, they had some cards made with the beginning of the sentence and the kids filled in the blank. I'd like to share some of my favorites.

First, from Austin:

My mom is so smart, she even knows...the capital of Texas.

My mom is as beautiful as a...pony.

My mom is really good at...sowing. (I don't sew, but I do occasionally "sow".)

I like it when my mom...gets me toys.

And from Macy:

My mom is special because...she fixes me dinner every day.

My mom is really good at...washing the clothes.

My mom is so smart, she even knows...how to fold clothes.

My mom is as beautiful as a...unicorn. (Apparently I resemble some sort of a horse.)

* * *

Spencer and Kade are now crazy with the rolling, and they both prefer to sleep on their stomachs (with their faces against the bumper pads which makes me crazy). They have started to try to grab things. They swat at toys and occasionally grasp onto something. Unfortunately, they have discovered something that they both LOVE: their thumbs. They have both been excellent Binkie Babies, but the thumb seems to make them happier. I put them down with the bink, but more often than not, I come back to find them asleep, binkie spit out, thumb in the mouth. Greg is up in arms. He insists that I am not doing enough to thwart this new found passion. I try; I really do. Whenever I see a thumb, I pull it out and try to convince them that the binkie is better. But, honestly, I can only spend so many hours a day on Project Thumb Intervention.

I'm Grateful For...

I decided that it's time to start up my Grateful section again. This one deserved its own post.

Thursday, May 7th: Greg and I sat on the couch and discussed plans for the upcoming weekend. We decided that after my doctor appointment the following day, that we would stop at the Nursery and buy plants, seeds, and manure needed to get the garden going. We would drive to my parents house, pick up the tiller (you know - the one that crossed the plains with my ancestors; okay, it's not that old - but close), and we would spend Saturday preparing the soil and planting our garden. We discussed what we would like to plant this year and where to try to fit everything into our small yard.

Saturday, May 9th: Kade decided it was simply too stressful living inside my body, so instead of planting our garden, we decided to bring two little boys into this world. They have consumed every waking minute since.

A week or two after we had been home from the hospital, my parents decided they needed a service project. They chose me. Knowing that fresh tomatoes, carrots, zucchini, and corn make me happier than Christmas morning, they showed up on my doorstep with plants in hand, tiller in the back of the Tahoe, and my brother as Worker #3.

Today, I am grateful to my mom, my dad, and my brother for doing what I could not. I'm also grateful for Greg for staying on top of the weeding and maintaining our small but happy garden. I have been reaping the rewards for several weeks now.

Tonight, with the use of 13 fresh tomatoes, I made this:

My house smelled of just the perfect blend of garlic, onions, and tomatoes. My heart was happy. For information on how to make the marinara sauce, go here.

Afterward, I used this:

To make this:

For information on how to make the cake, go here. For information on how to make the adorable children, go here.

Monday, September 18th: Greg and I sat on the couch and discussed our many blessings. We were actually talking about a family crisis (or two) and our role in helping to ease the burden a bit. Then we talked about how we have spent the past several months swimming as hard as we can just to keep our heads above water. This was not a discussion full of self-pity; we laughed as we discussed our survival techniques and creativity. Twice last week, I woke up about 2:30 in the morning to find that we had fallen asleep in mid-conversation with several lights on (and Greg's contacts still in). As I sleepily wandered around the house in the middle of the night, turning off lights, locking doors, starting the dishwasher, and flushing toilets (seems like that always needs to be done), I thought about how we are exhausted, but in the best possible way. I can't think of any other way I'd rather be expending my energy. Ironically, challenges have a way of highlighting our many blessings.

Thank you to everyone who has sought a service project and thought of my family over the past several months. We have felt so much charity and Christlike love enter our home. Thank you for helping so willingly and sharing your love with us. I truly am grateful for all the good, good people in my life.

How do I love thee, Let me count the ways...

I took Spencer and Kade in for their 4 month check up yesterday. Kade weighed in at 11 pounds 14 ounces and 23 1/4 inches. Spencer came in at 12 pounds 2 ounces and 24 3/4 inches. I really thought Spencer would weigh a lot more. He just seems so much bigger than Kade. Even the nurse was surprised. She thought he would be about a pound bigger. (They got shots and Kade didn't even cry. We just watched him, waiting for that wail, but it never came. Crazy!)

Anyway...I wanted to see how they were doing in comparison to my other children at four months. Amazingly, both Austin and Macy weighed exactly the same (12 pounds 13 ounces), but I couldn't find where I wrote down Paige's information. Back when I was not the mother of 5, I had calendars for each baby for the first year of their lives. Every day (or almost), I would jot down something that happened - either something that they accomplished or something fun or just a tender moment. I noticed that I quit about four months with Paige, but that was also the time that I started my blog. So, I went back to the beginning to see if I documented Paige's information. I didn't.

It was just about bedtime, so my kids were swarming around me with toothbrushes in their mouths and books in their hands and Greg was giving me the "Why do you have to do that right now?!?" look (it comes with rolled eyes and exasperated sighs). I was having a blast reading through the past two years. A few posts I remembered without reading, most of them came back to me as I read them or saw a picture, and some of them seemed totally new to me (like the time when Macy told me that she was so upset she would "never laugh again"). I fell in love with my blog, with everybody's comments, and especially with my life all over again.

Although I really enjoy writing, I was never very good at keeping a consistent journal. My blog has enabled me to do just that. I print off the posts and put them in a binder so that I have an electronic copy and a paper copy. I try to be very honest and write about the good times and the trying times. If my kids (and maybe their kids) really do read this one day, I want them to know that I am very much human. I find one-dimensional blogs so transparent (either way: too depressing and self-loathing or so blissfully happy).

So today I am grateful for blogger. I know that not as many people are blogging these days, but just reading through my 2007 archives makes me realize how much I truly love blogging and I should keep doing it. It is good therapy for me and a perfect spot for me to document our memories. I love you blogger.com!!!

While I'm documenting...Here is an update of my boys at four months:

Loves: Being held, swings, bouncers, cooing when spoken to, grabbing mom's hair, watching their mobile, baths, being outside, the ceiling fan, watching Baby Einstein videos (my life-saver), rolling completely over and over and over (Spencer), sleeping on tummy (Spencer), rolling on side (Kade), kisses on chin and neck, binks, sucking on fingers (Kade), sleeping with Mom, scratching his head (Kade), holding their hands together

Dislikes: Being left alone, messy diapers, having their eyes cleaned out (Kade), lotion, walking downstairs (Spencer - he gets all tight, puts his arms out, and cries), loud noises

Kade getting tortured with lotion by Paige:

New this month: I have had both boys sleeping in their bouncers on the kitchen table. I wrap them up tightly, buckle them up, and turn on the bounciness. This month, since Spencer tries to roll out of the bouncer, we moved both boys into the crib. I realized that I created two bouncer monsters. They fought the crib for the first week, but are getting so much better. We just put them down with a pacifier, cover them with a blanket, and turn on the mobile. They are such good boys and generally go to sleep. Sometimes, in the night, they'll wake up because one of them has turned around is is kicking the other one in the head (just like the womb). They generally skip one feeding in the night and go about six hours. We've also started going on more walks. I put one baby in the wrap and one in the double stroller with Paige. We've LOVED getting out!

Nicknames: Bence (coined by Paige), Mr. Spence, Spenceter

Kadester, Kincade

My favorite things: The constant cooing and the way they smile with their entire bodies. They get so excited and kick their legs, arch their back, fling out their arms, and smile! I love you Spencer and Kade!

Manna

The other morning, as I lay in bed feeding a baby (not sure which one), my mind contemplated the Israelites. I thought about the fact that they wandered for 40 years in the wilderness, and every day, manna fell from heaven. The people gathered the manna and ate what they needed - no more, no less. Every morning, without fail, the Lord provided.

One of my concerns, when I first found out that I was having twins, was the strength (or lack of strength) of my body. Although I was once told (by a well-intentioned gynecologist) that I have "excellent birthing hips," my body simply was not made for baby-making. I won't bore you with all of the details, but one of them has to do with the lack of breast milk. With my first three babes, I tried everything to increase my milk supply. When Macy (my child who refused the bottle) actually lost weight between her six and nine-month checkups, the doctor said, "Some women have cream; you have water." When I did stop nursing her, I quit cold turkey and didn't feel engorged at all! My body simply does not produce well.

Early on in my pregnancy with Spencer and Kade, I was caught up in my many worries about the daunting task of twins. Even with the use of miracle medication, my body could hardly grow one baby, how on Earth was it suppose to grow two??? My answer: The Lord will provide. That early morning, listening to the birds wake up and watching the sun creep over the valley, I understood that my increased lactation was just another way that the Lord was providing for my babes.

Just like manna, every three hours, my body creates the sustenance needed for these babies. After feeding two starving children, I feel completely depleted and I look like I have two empty balloons hanging from my chest. Amazingly, while I go about my normal duties, without even noticing it, I gradually fill up to the point of bursting just about the time that desperate, hungry cries cause the milk to drop. I produce just the right amount to feed my babies - no more, no less.

I hardly think I could stand on the pulpit and bear testimony of the miracle of lactation, but every time I see one of those searching little mouths start to suckle, my faith is renewed. Our bodies are miraculous (I should love mine more). The Lord thought of everything...everything! The Lord will provide - He does provide.

Just look what that milk has done to my boy's cheeks (4 months tomorrow). Oh, and I think that the Lord may have forgotten to give them each a neck. Oh well, minor detail.

p.s. They found each other tonight. They were on the floor, and for the first time, they caught each other's eyes and started a conversation. They were cooing and squeaking while reaching out with their arms and kicking their legs in excitement. It was beyond adorable!

Bigs

Have you ever noticed that families develop their own language. As children learn to speak, they come up with words that replace the real words, and families start to use these words all the time. My children have done this. Austin called his pacifier a "Ba-da." Macy called nipples "knuckles." Macy also calls all hair bows/clips/elastics "Pretties." And now Paige has added a new word to our vocabulary: "Bigs," and it is used to reference pajamas.

These are Bigs:

These are Bigs:

These are also Bigs:

These are not Bigs:

Paige loves to wear Bigs to bed. Every night, you can find Greg or I (or even Austin and Macy) coercing Paige into some Bigs. I bet she has only worn shorts to bed a handful of times this summer. Even when the temperature doesn't dip lower than the 80s, she just prefers her Bigs.

Oh, and after two-and-a-half years of life, this happened yesterday:

3 Months

My babies are three months old, and Spencer is already picking on Kade:

One:

Two:

Three:

Too funny!!!

Spencer actually rolled over on Saturday. I fed him first, put him down on a blanket in the middle of the room, and picked up Kade to feed him. I watched Spencer the entire time, and after much struggle, he finally did it. For several minutes, he rolled his entire body over, and if he didn't have that darn left arm, he would have accomplished this task much more quickly. He couldn't quite figure out how to free that arm from under his belly. After much kicking and squirming, he would tire and roll onto his back for a little breather. After a deep breath and new resolution, his legs would flip over again and he would kick and squirm some more so determined to get all the way over - left arm and all!

After about ten minutes, he did it! Finally, that arm popped right out and he lay there high-centered on his round belly. Now what?!? He achieved his goal, but after a couple of seconds, he started crying. I guess it wasn't all he hoped for. How typical. The fallacy of "The grass is always greener on the other side" catches all of us in its grip - even innocent little three-month-olds.

I continually feel so blessed for these babies. They are really dynamic right now, and they smile and respond when we talk to them. They are actually doing great at night. Spencer usually skips his middle-of-the-night feeding, and Kade does occasionally. So, there are a few days a week that they'll go about six hours between feedings. Heaven! They LOVE their swings, bouncers, and binkies. Like most babies, they both love to be held as well. I've started taking them out - on walks and to the store (occasionally). I put one in the stroller with Paige and one in the sling. It seems to work and I don't feel like the walls are caving in on me. It's nice.

Earlier this month, Greg blessed both of the babies. He was so nervous about making them different, but I think he did a very good job. He blessed Kade first. He said that Kade with be second his entire life, so he wanted to give him a chance to be first. He blessed both boys with the desire to achieve righteousness in this life: baptism, priesthood, mission, marriage in the temple, and eventually the blessing of being fathers themselves. He talked to Kade about his middle name, and how it is the name of his grandfather. He blessed him with traits like his grandfather - determination, industrious, and a very generous heart.

When the blessing was over, everyone stayed up in the circle, Greg walked down, handed Kade off, picked up Spencer, and started all over again. (Sometimes I don't realize that I have twins. I simply take care of them. One feeding - another feeding. One diaper change - another diaper change. One bath - a second bath. but then there are moments like this where I realize that there are two of them. It's very strange.) Spencer's blessing was just as beautiful. Greg very sweetly talked about me and everything that a mother sacrifices for a baby. He blessed Spencer that he will feel of our overwhelming love and gratitude for him. Then, he spoke about how Spencer was also named after a "great man" (my dad). He talked about my dad's traits of selflessness and dedication to our family. He blessed him to acquire those traits.

Afterward, we had everyone over to our house for some breakfast casserole and breakfast rolls. It was a beautiful day. I thought back to those first days of their lives, when we spent nearly two weeks in the hospital, eagerly arriving at the nursery every three hours on the dot, passing clearance by the nurses, washing our hands obsessively, and finally visiting our tiny babies. I remember one night when it was decided that Kade was simply not progressing and they put a feeding tube in. This made it so that I could only hold him for about 20 minutes every six hours. He needed to eat and sleep under the heat as much as possible so he could start to grow.

I had just fed Kade his measly 18 cc's of well-intended breast milk. After burping, he gagged and spit up the entire bottle. It was everywhere - all over him, all over me, and all over the floor. I was exhausted and started to cry. I knew that this was the last straw and that they would put the tube down his throat. I knew everything would eventually be okay, but it was so hard to see his little three-an-a-half pound body hooked up to all these tubes and monitors and feel so completely helpless. Our nurse was a blessing that night. She had extensive experience with preemie babies, both professionally and personally. The smallest baby she ever cared for was just under a pound, and he lived! She and her husband had adopted all four of their children. Her second child was born early and weighed in at about two-and-a-half pounds. They spent nearly three months in the hospital with him. She sweetly put her arm around me and said, "You know, the ones that struggle the most often turn out to be the strongest."

I looked around the room. This was the Level II Nursery (still considered a NICU, but not as life-threatening as the Level III Nursery). I saw all these babies that were struggling with their start in life. Most babies stayed a couple of days as they overcame jaundice or breathing issues. One little baby was born addicted to morphine, and began his life desperately struggling to overcome this inherited addiction. Every day was a fight as he screamed to the point that my milk came in. We saw two babies life flighted to Primary Children's during our stay. Overall, I was amazed at the strength and resilience of these tiny bodies. I wondered about their spirits. These bodies all around me were only a couple of pounds, but their spirits are eternal. I wondered about the strength of their souls.

Then, I thought about that statement in relation to life. As I stood there and rubbed Kade's little forehead, I thought about those people in my life that have suffered more than what seems like their fair share. I know so many good people that, through very little fault of their own, have had to struggle through health issues, money issues, emotional issues, etc. I thought about the strength of their souls as well. I thought about the Plan of Salvation and how we learn about it over and over again. I think that we skip over the part where we say "We came to earth to get a body and be tried and tested" much too quickly. This is the reason we are here. This was not meant to be easy. Trite, perhaps, but true. Like the nurse said, we need to struggle in order to become strong.

I suddenly became one of those people who is extremely grateful for my trials. I don't have too look very hard, even when times are tough, to realize that the grass is quite green on my side of the fence. It is green enough, at least.

My Prayer

As I lay me down to sleep...I have a plea tonight:

This boy:

This one right here:

This boy confuses me beyond belief, frustrates me more than I thought possible, and tugs at my heartstrings like no other. He requires more energy than my other four children - combined. And yet, when I think of him, I admire him almost more than any other person I've met. His spirit...his soul...is so fascinating to me. He's like my own little Spiritual Science Experiment. I am constantly trying to figure him out.

Right now, I need (desperately need) for people to see past his bouncy-ness, his volume (which is very, very loud), his passion (translation: tears/temper/lack of impulse control) through his young, innocent eyes into his pure, good heart. (And by "people" I mean his teachers, his friends, our neighbors, his church leaders, and most of all - myself.)

People always describe him as "so smart." He does have an amazing ability to learn easily, grasp concepts quickly, observe, think deeply, create and build, and remember (oh to have his memory). Even though I firmly believe that this is a talent, or gift that was given to him by a loving Heavenly Father, it is not one of the things that I most admire in my son. I wish it did not define him because there are more layers if you take the time to find them.

Just some of his exceptional qualities (in my humble opinion):

• He instantly accepts people as a friend. Since he was a toddler, we would take him to the park or the zoo and he would immediately have a friend. Wherever he went, he could make friends - instantly. He has never spoken badly about a neighbor child or a friend at school (even those that he tends to "clash" with on occasion). If someone is ready and willing, he is eager to befriend them.
• He does not "see" people physically. He has never once commented on or asked about a physical disability, mental disability, weight, skin color, age, etc. You know how little kids innocently ask about these things (both of my girls have). This is something that Austin simply does not notice. He accepts people - no strings attached.
• His desire to do good. I wish you could be a fly on the wall some nights as he says a heartfelt prayer that he will be able to control his body and his emotions. He knows his limitations, and he really does desire to follow the rules and obey. Breaks my heart as he pleads with the Savior for help.
• His innate spirituality. To some it may seem that he doesn't stop moving until he is asleep, but he is also very still during priesthood blessings. He listens intently. He strives to take it all in. He ponders the things he learns, reads, and hears. It may not seem like he's listening (as he is constantly in motion), but it sinks in somehow.
• He loves his family. Today as I was going through his bag of "stuff" from 2nd Grade, trying to decide what to keep, I came across a paper that was shaped and colored to look like a large gem (they studied maps and read a book about a buried treasure). It had the names of "Macy, Paige, Spencer, and Kade" written on it. I opened it up and it read, "My greatest treasure is my siblings." He continued to write about each one of them and why he treasures them. I hope, with all my heart, that my children have a life-long friendship with each other.
• His ability to forgive. He does not hold grudges. Sometimes I laugh when he and his friends get into it (screaming, hitting, tears - the whole nine yards) and five minutes later there is a knock on the door. These boys act like nothing happened when just moments earlier they were willing to fight to the death. (I realize this may be a "Boy Thing," but it impresses the pants off me!) Last week, I was terribly frustrated and threw a terrible temper tantrum. After getting everyone ready for bed, I announced that I was leaving and taking Kade with me. Macy asked if I was moving out (insert eye roll); I ran to the store. But Austin (who got the worst of my fury, as usual) simply walked over to me, put his arms around my waist, and held on for a few seconds: "I love you, Mom." Honestly...He is my greatest example sometimes.

So I am begging...pleading with all of my heart...for people to please, please, please try to see past the annoyances and into his core. I think you will find good stuff in there. I worry incessantly about this child. I am beginning to realize that some of his struggles are going to be trials for a good part of his life (if not all of it), and that I cannot fix them. (As a mother, it kills me to write that - to admit it out loud. I...can't...fix...it. I can do all I can to help, but ultimately these are his battles - his limitations.)

Life isn't like the movies. People aren't completely good (Superman) or completely bad (Lex Luther). We are complex beings with mortal, human limitations. On the whole, I truly believe that most people are doing the best with what they've been given. Please know that my little guy is no exception. He's doing his best (and he has good days and not-so-good days just like everybody else), and he needs love and acceptance and not criticism.

(Sniffle...sniffle) Amen.

Day 2

On the way to school today, Macy asked how long she would have to go to school. I tried explaining high school and college. She asked what was after college, and I told her that she could actually go to school her entire life if she wanted - it is up to her. Her reply: "I don't want to. All you do at school is learn, and I already learned."

Listen

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,

Listen to the DON'TS

Listen to the SHOULDN'TS

The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS

Listen to the NEVER HAVES

then listen close to me-

Anything can happen, child,

ANYTHING can be.

- Shel Silverstein

The past few weeks, I have been looking forward to this day. I felt like my kids definitely needed the opportunity to miss each other again (the Summer bickering got a little too much for me). But now, I am looking at these pictures with tears running down my face wondering when this happened? How is it possible to have a third-grader (by the way, that isn't a gang sign he's flashing - I asked him to hold up three fingers so we would know what grade he's in)? When did my little blond bombshell decide to be a fiercely independent Kindergartner? When did time speed up? What have I given them? Why haven't I let more go and just loved them and enjoyed them? Why haven't I laughed more? What happened to those chubby cheeks, and why didn't I kiss them more when I had them? How much time do I have left? How will I use that time? How can I enjoy them more?

I want three things for my kids:

1. I want them to have a love of learning. I want this desire to be almost unquenchable. Whatever their interest, whatever their passion, they will find joy in learning.
2. I want them to be happy. I want them to enjoy their childhood and have enough time to just "be kids". I want them to pretend, explore, and discover...daily. I want them to smile and laugh. "Men are that they might have joy." Today, after I dropped Macy off, Paige tried to convince me that she was 5 and not 2 (she wanted to go to school too). All I could think was "Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, little girl. Enjoy this time."
3. Most importantly: I want them to live a good life. I want them to be good friends, good brothers, good sisters, good neighbors. I want them to find the joy in living selflessly. I want them to get to know their Savior on a personal basis. I want them to be actively involved in good causes. I want to see their individual talents used in a way to lift others and bring joy to their lives and the lives of others.

I want one thing for myself: To have enough patience and energy to treat my kids with all the love and respect that they deserve. To truly "listen" to the Spirit to help me know what's best for them, and to truly "listen" to my children (not only their words, but their emotions and needs as well). (I guess that's more than one. Oh well, I'm having a guilt-ridden day. I just need to do better - No excuses!)

How did your first day/week go, and what do you want for your children?

Multiple Personalities

So, Macy was playing with her friend Gracie the other day. Macy's favorite thing to play is pretend - mostly involving a family of some sort. She creates these grandiose scenarios and she and her friends tell each other what to say and how to act. They just boss each other around - happily (most of the time). It is hilarious to observe.

Anne, Gracie's mother overheard Macy saying over and over again:

"I'm going to be Stilla...My name is Stilla...I am Stilla."

Anne assumed that she was trying to say the name "Stella" but was getting it wrong.

However, Macy did clarify:

"My name is Steala because I steal things."

Gracie said:

"Okay. My name is Tinkerbell because I don't."

...

I just found Macy and Paige in my bedroom closet. Both were wearing their swimsuits (Paige's is on backward which looks comfy) with high heels and sweaters. Macy had a huge bow in her hair and was carrying her purse. Macy said, "I just wanted to look like a mom."

...

Macy was looking at a toy magazine today instead of cleaning up the toy room while I was on the phone with Jen. I thought that maybe if Jen told her to do her chores, she might listen. I handed Macy the phone and heard: "Yeah. I'm just looking at the pictures and circling everything that I love!"

...

These pictures have nothing to do with these stories. I just love them with all my heart. Not only is she fishing on the cement in the rain, but it looks like she's going commando under the raincoat. And the hot pink cowboy boots just make me smile whenever she puts them on. She cracks me up...daily!!!