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What do you do during the day?

Sunday, April 19th, 2009

*Warning, long and rambly.

While visiting with a close friend last week I was asked the question, “So what is a day like for you?” She meant now that I’m a SAHM, now as opposed to what I’ve been up to for the last few years. It’s really only been since August that I’ve embraced the SAHM lifestyle, and who knows what kind of adjustments I’ll have to make when and IF I get into my Library Sciences program starting in July…but her question combined with another conversation we’ve had on and off for years made me think again about a little concept called a “people-centered life.”

For much of my life I was ME-centered. I went to high school, I chose the college I wanted to attend, I worked through my classes, worked my jobs, spent MY money (I was highly amused the other day when I opened a journal to find a track record of expenses for the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college. It should be illegal to spend so much money on nothing, although I wrote it all down dutifully. I especially loved the entry for “cute spring skirt to wear to the city, practical but feminine.” I must have taken accounting classes with Martha Stuart), and hung out with MY friends, largely planning for MY life. Reflecting on this time, I think I really did learn a lot from being in school, and developed a little bit of independence, but mostly I just learned to cater to myself. I am somewhat embarrassed when I think about the way I occasionally mistreated friends or family, often putting myself first in any considerations I was making at the time.

This all changed when I went to England where I worked as a missionary for 19 months. For anyone who doesn’t know about the LDS mission lifestyle (I know, sorry, two links in one day, forgive me…but the ideas must come out) it doesn’t stop. If you’re doing it right, you spend all of your waking hours planning and studying and then teaching and serving people in your immediate area. The service can take any shape it needs to. People often invited us into their homes to teach them about the Gospel. We taught ESL classes, we worked shelters and food kitchens, and we often identified and organized relief for hungry families we met in the areas we lived in. Every once in awhile we organized events through the local congregations just for fun. All in all, it seemed that our main job was helping people find peace in their lives. It was busy, it was wonderful, and had nothing to do with ANYTHING I wanted to do. At all. I got so used to it, though, that when I returned home a year and a half later, I had no idea what to do with myself. It’s like I yoyoed from one extreme to the other and didn’t know where to land.

Enter the people-centered life. In Scranton one of my friends was VERY people centered. While I was the “planner,” make a plan and get it done, she was the people person. Her plans often revolved around the people around her, for good or bad. I was sometimes intolerant of the way this affected my scheduling, and didn’t understand how she could stop to talk/help/encourage/listen to anyone and everyone we came across- especially people she didn’t even know. In England I learned (WAS FORCED) to let go of that a little bit. Yes, we had a schedule. But the things we were planning were for the people, so if I pulled off some activity or lesson or event, but didn’t talk to anyone while we were there, didn’t look anyone in the eyes, it was all a loss. I learned balance. I also learned to be a lot more go-with-the-flow about life in general. I could just pick up in the morning and see where the day took me. I didn’t measure success by a checklist of accomplishments to be made up in the morning and crossed off at night, but rather by the opportunities I took during the day.

That was a good life.

Yes, we still planned, as much as we could, but at the end of the day when we looked back and saw that we took every opportunity to listen to someone, spend a little extra time with someone else, or just followed the day where it seemed to be taking us, we were successful. I wish I had learned that lesson before Scranton, but alas. Life goes on.

When I came home I wanted to work this more “relaxed” Erin into my REAL life, and although I did to some extent, the stresses of concentrating on school and work toughened me up again, and I started to plan again. I don’t think that’s bad, per say, except when I was unable to get things done in the way I envisioned, and then became surly and grumpy and overall…not fun to be around. This continued until I got married, the small laid back part of me battling the uptight part of me, and it wasn’t a bad life. Not at all. Then came mommyhood. I don’t know if this is true of everyone, but I’m finding more and more, that the harder I grip onto “uptight Mommy” behaviors, the harder everything is, the more I find a balance with my laid-back-mommy-self..the happier we all are. And this brings us to my point, finally.

I am convinced that the happiest sort of life is a people-centered life. I think it would have done me a world of good to find more ways to reach out while I was in college. Although my mission shocked me into realizing just how self-absorbed I had been, in a lot of ways, the damage had already been done. I always worked hard at school, but even on top of that I had SO MUCH TIME that I could have used to serve others, help people in some way. I went to a Jesuit University, for goodness sake. There were opportunities to serve people EVERY DAY. I occasionally took advantage of some of them (to fulfill required service hours, to be sure) and I love the memories that I have of volunteering at the hospital and running retreats. But even with the small amount of good I DID find time to do, I HAD SO MUCH TIME PEOPLE. And with that time I chose to cater to myself in a way that was not always productive, and honestly, was sometimes downright destructive. All that said, I don’t kick myself too much now. What’s done is done, and I didn’t do too badly. I made amazing friends, I got good grades, I acted like an 18, 19, 20 year old off on her own for the first time. I came around. And MOSTLY, mostly I saw the difference in myself when I chose to look at the people around me and see what I could do to help.

My life now is not like it was in Scranton. It’s not like it was while I was on my mission. I don’t have the freedom to go and focus on the random people I might meet in the same ways anymore, but I can still lead a people-centered life. In my opinion, I have been given a few gifts.

I have been given a loving family. A husband, a baby boy, and my own Mom and Dad and Brother. (That’s not even mentioning my extended family, as well as my family-in-law, all of whom add a richness and an element to life that I would be less blessed without.)

I have been enabled to stay at home. John works a job so that I can stay at home with our son. It’s as simple as that, and although he doesn’t get a lot of fulfillment from his day to day activities lately, I truly hope he recognizes what a gift he has given to me and Camper by being willing to take that burden, although annoying right now. (The good news is that he does start school again this summer, which ALWAYS infuses a little more purpose into our lives! Bigger and better things as the economy perks up and as we specialize what we want to do, a bit.)

Good friends. People who come and see me, ask how I am, extend their support when my life is new and hard and crazy and things change faster than I can keep up with them.

Solid faith. Although it is sometimes extremely challenging to put the effort in that I need to, I know that my faith rests on something real. And that makes up for everything else.

So back to the beginning. What does my day look like?

I wake up, I try to teach my son to eat and sleep and play. I make sure he feels loved and secure, and mix in enough “independent” time for him to grow and so that I can do the domestic thing. Cook, clean, organize, etc. And then I try to focus on people. My son gets in line first, mostly because he’s the loudest when ignored…but I also try and make life a little easier or better for others when I can. I’m enjoying listening to my mom’s plans and projects, seeing her do her thing, and the company is fun for both of us. (She’s way craftier than me.) I like making dinner/lunch for my husband, trying in some small way to remind him that even though his job is not “fun,” that I am grateful for his willingness to do it so that I can be at home with Camper. Occasionally I cook for the whole family, and that’s probably about as much attention as anyone gets from me these days. But it’s something, right? Lately I’ve had more time for friends who visit, to make plans to get my butt in the car and go see people who mean something to me. It’s largely people-centered, and although it may not be people that I don’t know, it is still worth something, I think.

I read a post awhile ago where the blogger referred to this type of day as “motherwork,” and I loved it. Motherwork isn’t always something you can list out and get done, although sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s entire days spent singing to a baby who has growing pains, or running around doing errands, or just going for a walk and trying to take some pictures and write some things down so that we can remember this phase of our lives later. It involves the cleaning and the cooking and the shopping, the bill paying and the doctor’s appointments and the organizing, but it also involves the people. Looking around and seeing who needs what and trying to respond. I still miss a lot, and I have to remind myself to look sometimes, but I think that’s what my job is right now. I want to try and really dedicate myself to this idea, the idea that while I am able to be at home with my son and any other children that may come along, that my blessing and my opportunity is to just be there. If I can be there for the people I love, and maybe a few people who I don’t even know as they cycle in and out of my life, if I can take those opportunities to pay attention to the people in my life and their needs over mine, I think life will be richer.

Yes, school will start again. Yes, work will start again. Yes, things need to be done. But as for what I do every day…I’d like to focus on taking care of people. Maybe as I work through this idea I’ll post more specifically how this little focus shift experiment is going, but we’ll see.

(Disclaimer: I would need to write another long post to explain how other people take care of ME every day, so don’t think this is in any way one-sided people. But what comes around goes around, right?)

Tags: oh long
Posted in Rambles, Religious | 2 Comments »

Christmastime with a Little Baby Boy

Sunday, December 7th, 2008

Before I gave birth I gave the actual birth/babyhood of Jesus only a cursory thought. It happened. He was born, he was a baby. Mary was his mother. This Christmas it’s very different for me. As I listen to the hymns and contemplate Mary riding a donkey into Bethlehem I think about how I could barely stand a five minute ride in our comfy subaru by my 8th month. I realize that she didn’t have a labor and delivery nurse to comfort her and help her know what to do. We don’t read anything about her having other women there, but when I think about the time she lived in I think that women probably just found each other in times like that. Who else was there? I think about Joseph, wishing he could take the pain away and wondering how he would do as an earthly, surrogate father for the Son of God. We know that Christ was perfect, body and spirit, but to me that means that Mary probably had a very healthy, routine birthing experience, with all of the normal pain and discomfort that comes with it. No NICU for Baby Jesus, no epidural for Mary.

I wonder if she felt relief and joy as she heard his first cries, if she held him immediately or if Joseph held him first. Did Joseph deliver him? Did he latch on right away? I think that Jesus was probably a normal baby in many ways, definitely extraordinary, but ordinary, too. He relied on his Mom for comfort, cried when he wanted to be held. As he grew he began to smile and coo at his parents. Did he learn his consonant sounds first like most babies do? When did he first sleep through the night? Are sleepless nights just as challenging when your child is the Son of God? When did Mary first sense that sooner than most, He would mature and she would rely on him more than he would rely on her? I wonder if in any of Christ’s adult years he felt the need to be near his mother the way I still do from time to time. I can picture Him going to her and laying his head on her shoulder like my little brother Jonathan (now 22) does to me and my Mom. Or did he rely soley on his Father for comfort?

Then I think about the fear. I think that Mary was immune to some fears with regard to her child. Maybe she didn’t have to lie awake at night pushing away images of something happening, someone stealing him away or things like SIDS. Sometimes the fear of what could happen to Camper paralyzes me. But I couldn’t imagine, not even for one moment, realizing that although my child was safe and protected by angels as he grew, that one day He would Atone for all mankind. Did she know what it would entail? Did she realize what her son would go through, or was she protected from that knowledge for as long as she could be? I wonder if in her heart she wished that He would use His agency and protect himself from the pain, back out and live a quiet life with her and their family. Of course she was willing to give Him up, to support Him, but I can’t even imagine the anguish she must have felt when she understood what had to be done. The pride and awe and love she felt when she understood, even in small measure, why He was doing it. She raised Him, He saved her. They both did what they needed to do, but I can’t imagine even for a moment that it was easy.

All year long I concentrate on the Living Christ, divinity- His death and resurrection. I love Him for that. But this Christmastime I am overwhelmed thinking about the Baby Jesus. An infant, lying in His mother’s arms, full of potential and grace and promise in much the same way my baby lies in my arms. Was He the Son of God? Yes. But He was also a little baby, and His humanity is what makes His life here so remarkable and his sacrifice so universal and saving. And for me, this year, that is what makes Christmas special.

And I love that even after Christmastime is over, the story continues.

Luke Chapter 2:25-33

25 And, behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and the same man was just and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Ghost was upon him.

26 And it was revealed unto him by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.

27 And he came by the Spirit into the temple: and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him after the custom of the law,

28 Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said,

29 Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word:

30 For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,

31 Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people;

32 A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.

33 And Joseph and his mother marvelled at those things which were spoken of him.

Tags: Christmas!, religion
Posted in All About Baby, Holiday!, Religious | 1 Comment »

What I Think

Monday, November 10th, 2008

So I’m finally going to post on Proposition 8. Not because I’ve figured anything out, because I haven’t. Not because I have any say that I think other people need to listen to, because I don’t. Not because John posted on it today (I’ve actually been working on this for awhile…), but that’s not the reason why either. But because I am finally so firmly set right in the middle that I don’t know what to think. I want to say before you read this that if you begin, you need to read the whole thing. Any one of these comments taken out of context will not help you understand how I feel about this issue. So read it all, or move on. Or read part and get mad. That’s cool, too, I guess.

Previously, my thoughts have been this: I don’t feel that the government should interfere in personal relationships, that love can’t be legislated, and that no matter how the word “marriage” is defined in any dictionary or constitution, it will not stop people from loving other people, regardless of gender. As a result I felt that a piece of legislation saying that it did not recognize a relationship between two people was unnecessary at best, intolerant at worst, not to mention impotent. Such a thing would be an insult to a small community of people, and that’s about it. Now, however, I don’t know what to think. All of a sudden it seems like there is something to be lost of either side of the debate. It is not as clean cut as letting people make their own choices. Is it true that letting someone else make their choice could eventually take away mine?

I, personally, don’t believe that a homosexual relationship is right. That is a very specific statement dealing specifically with my personal life and religion. Saying, however, that it’s not “valid,” as the proposition states, seems rough. The words to be added to the constitution, for those who don’t know, are these: “Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.” Who can tell who that their relationship is not valid? Recognized is one thing, valid is another thing altogether. To take it further, I shudder to think about situations in which someone’s partner could not make medical decisions for him or her in case of emergencies, or where a death would result in no rights for a long-time and much-loved companion. But from what I understand, those rights are already protected in many states. But I haven’t seen the laws that protect those rights. I actually need to look those up so that I can understand this issue a little better.

What I’ve learned recently is that if marriage is not “protected,” there may come a time when my children will learn about same-sex marriage in school without my consent or foreknowledge, where my religion is forced to perform same sex marriages or no marriages at all, or where my rights as a heterosexual woman who has specific religious beliefs will be affected. On one hand I see a group of people being allowed to make their own choices as to what they believe and their ability to act on those beliefs, and on the other hand I see another group of people being allowed to make their own choices as to what they believe and their ability to act on those beliefs. So who wins? The group with the loudest voice- through the vote. In THAT way I feel like Proposition 8 is justified. It was put to a vote, which is fair, right? That’s why there is a vote in the first place? I’m still not sure.

Here’s the thing. I’m actually not too worried about Camper learning about same sex couples in school. Why? Because I plan to talk to him about things before (sometimes unavoidably after) they come up. That might be sex, drugs, other people’s choices, whatever it may be. I will not shelter my son from differences, whether they be lifestyle, religion, culture, etc. because I think that he needs to know to make his own choices valid, and to have an argument better than, “Because Jesus says so,” when questioned about his actions. Although the “Jesus says so” argument is good enough for me, in a lot of ways, I think that the world sometimes needs more insight into our choices, and we can often give it to them if we think about it a little bit.

As for my church being forced to perform same sex marriages…I’m not sure about that… Could those 14 words, which would allow same sex unions by law, mean that any institution that doesn’t allow them are then breaking the law? Because that’s obviously not right, either. Not even all heterosexual couples are able to be married in LDS Temples unless they live certain standards of worthiness. We all need to live a certain kind of life to gain what we have come to recognize as eternal blessings. I believe that The Family: A Proclamation to the World is the word of God. That proclamation defines marriage as one man, one woman. I also don’t believe anyone should be forced to live my beliefs. But I ALSO don’t believe my sacred places should be shared with people who don’t hold them sacred. You can see how this is going around and around in my head now?

There will be people who will question my faith because I admit I’m unsure. They will ask if I believe in the prophet, Thomas S. Monson. Maybe they’ll even be mad at me for not just knowing exactly what to do after I’ve been told what to do, very clearly at that. That’s the thing- I’m so used to being admonished by my clerical leaders to “Vote my conscience,” that I’ve grown accustomed to thinking things through for myself. All of a sudden they come out with a very real stance on an issue and I’m not sure how to react. What happened to my conscience? Is that not good enough? Maybe this time it’s not. In my mind I hear the words “Watchmen on the tower,” and wonder if by being encouraged to work against same sex marriage being made into law I am being encouraged to avoid a future that would be harmful to my rights or my family. I don’t know. I am glad, this time around at least, that I do not live in California and did not have to vote yes or no on this proposition. On one hand taking away someone’s legal right to be married, and on the other hand giving up my right to…well, I don’t know what.

This much I DO know: There will come a time when it will not be good enough to live my own life in peace and let others do the same. I will have to fight for what I want and know to be true even at the expense of the rights of others. I hope that by that time I will be brave enough to make the choices I need to, or have a clear enough understanding of why a law can’t be written that allows people to choose how they want to live their lives without taking away that same right from others. Agency, the right of choice, is an eternal right given to us by God. It seems like people often legislate that right away, or at the very least assign consequences to choices that I sometimes don’t understand.

I guess I know what to think, I’m just not comfortable with a world in which I have to think it. I wish I could live my life and love my family and allow others to do the same without fearing that my world could be taken away. It seems that fear is at the root of all of this. Fear that I will lose what I cherish most because someone else decided to cherish something different. I stand by my belief that people can choose whatever they want, whether or not I agree with it, regardless of what I think God thinks about it. I just hope I never have to give up my compassion for others in order to be allowed to live what I believe.

Tags: opinion, politics, Proposition 8, religion
Posted in Rambles, Religious | 4 Comments »

All Work and No Play is Not What Erin Did Today

Friday, September 12th, 2008

No work for me today. Yesterday the newbie and I got through everything that needed to be done, and seeing as how I was feeling rather extraordinarily pregnant I thought that today might be a good day for her to fly solo and get some rest for myself. (Payroll starts Monday.) Last night was another non-sleeping night, although instead of digging out the headlamp John put out for me to use while he’s asleep so I can read, I just kind of laid there. I laid there, that is, until about 3 am when we had an unexpected visitor.

We’ve had a little kitty coming around our living room window (basement apartment) for about a week or so. It comes to the window, presses it’s paws against the screen, and mews. I’ve decided “mew” is too meek a work for the sound it represents, because it’s actually an incredibly annoying/screetchy noise. Usually we put the curtain down and he goes away. But last night he found our bedroom window- a window I keep open because as a pregnant woman, I need AIR. So there he is, screetching away outside the screen (I presume) looking at us down in our bed. As John stirred I said under my breath, “Don’t move.” As if we were dealing with a T-Rex or a bee, and not an animal that can probably see us clearly in the dark whether we are moving or not. The worst part was we couldn’t even just close the window because it’s the swinging kind that would trap the kitten between the window and the screen, not alleviating the problem. As John gained conciousness he turned to me and said, “Hand me my water bottle.” He then opened it and doused the little kitty with more water than I would have thought possible, dousing our duvet in the process. That cat was gone so fast I thought we had been dreaming. Except for the wet sheets. That was a good time.

After that I did manage to fall asleep on and off until about 8am, at which time I realised, for real, that I was not going to handle working today. New signs of impending labor present themselves every day (impending defined as any time between a few minutes from now and 41 weeks…) which are all interesting and sometimes disconcerting to deal with. On top of it all, my body is just plain hard to maneuver around. I remember when I first got pregnant and I opened the scriptures expecting some amazing spiritual message about carrying a new life inside of me and all I got was, “Yea, and wo unto them which are with child, for they shall be heavy and cannot flee; therefore, they shall be trodden down and shall be left to perish.” That was definitely one of those, “Thanks, God” moments. I’ve actually had quite a bit of entertainment looking up “pregnancy” scriptures. If you need help finding them some of the better ones can be found listed under the word “travail” in the topical guide/idex. Anyway…

So I got up and took my time getting showered/dressed. We did manage a visit to Alicia and new baby Spencer today. I thought it anyone would understand me dashing to the bathroom every so often it would be someone who just went through the whole process, so it was a good visit. I’m torn between resting as much as I possibly can this weekend and trying to wear myself out to see if I can induce some action. Since I’m not sure anything I do will induce anything, I’ll probably just go with the flow. Do stuff when I have energy, rest when I don’t. We will see. I’m am definitely, definitely with Camper making his appearance any time now. Any…time…now…

Tags: 38 weeks, cats, insomnia, pregnancy, scripture, sleep, waiting, Work
Posted in All About Baby, Day to day, Random unpleasant things, Religious | 3 Comments »

Some Thoughts From Sunday

Monday, September 1st, 2008

And welcome to September. I can’t believe it’s September. This month, this very month, John and I will have a child. It’s kind of crazy to think about. I’ll get to posting more of my thoughts on September, I’m sure, but first there are some others things I wanted to write. Warning: The following is blatantly religious material.

Yesterday was pretty good- we went to church. I’ve been having a hard time sitting through it so I did a bit of wandering in the halls/standing in the back during meetings, and then there was the “run home” during the very middle to get something to eat, but I’m glad to say we made it. I very rarely write publicly about my personal, spiritual impressions (feeling that they are just that, personal), but yesterday I felt like I got something I needed. I had a little time to sit and think about the times I’ve felt the most connected to God in my life. Interestingly enough, I don’t think it was when I was growing up, although I’m sure during that time I had kind of a naive/passive happy relationship thing going on. My greatest times of spiritual growth and comfort seem to accompany times of greatest purpose. When I was in Scranton and had to choose what I believed- to follow the traditions and faith that I had grown up with or embrace something else, that was my first quest. I remember feeling very keenly that God knew who I was and that he approved of my desire to know Him. As a budding philosophy major (oh my) I remember asking a lot of questions of a lot of people- some that could be considered irreverent or old-school “blasphemous.” Scranton is where I learned to be mad at God, and where I learned to get over it, and where I realised that through all that, He wasn’t going to get over me. It was a very interesting realisation.

Also, when I choose to go on a mission. Missionary work encompasses so many things that it overwhelmed me at first. I very quickly found out that I was pretty selfish and that it was difficult to care for the people around me. I had to pray, a lot, that I could love and serve the people I met without thinking of myself, my lack of luxury or my physical discomfort, and amazingly, it was given to me. I got so wrapped up in taking care of others that I often forgot myself entirely. (Just as a side note, this is probably how I got to the point that I looked in the mirror and realised I had lost about 20 lbs. and was skin and bones…don’t worry, I gained it back no prob later on.) When I got home from serving in London I felt like a Princess- my house was so comfortable and there seemed to be pancakes everywhere I turned (hence gaining the weight back) and when I got to BYU I felt a huge letdown. What next? What now? How can I feel purposeful and close to God when all day every day all I had to do was work on my education, go to my job, work on my happiness…It was a trial for me.

Finally, though, I found another purpose in friends and family. Funnily enough, I think there were plenty of purposes I could have found to get me through that time if I had been willing to work at it hard enough, but I was able to meet a few friends who, at the time…needed me. Then I met John and start thinking about my family- a husband and a marriage and you better believe that through our year long dating/engagement period I learned a lot about what God thought about me and had planned for me. Throughout that year my heart was enlightened and changed and encouraged in all new ways and I felt, again, like God was working with me in my life to find happiness.

And now. Now now now. For a couple of months, or maybe even longer, I’ve been a bit sick. Things have been happening in my body that are hard to deal with- being pregnant was my very first concern and excitement, but when I found out that my baby was healthy and fine and that whatever was wrong with me affected really, only me…there was a part of me that stopped worrying about my Camper so much and started just worrying about me. When people ask you a few times a day how you’re feeling and you have to go to special doctors to try and figure things out, it’s easy to turn inward and start to focus on yourself. Not to mention the fact that I have an amazing husband who is incredibly concerned with my comfort and happiness, and a mother who flew across the country to live with me and make sure I got through all this ok- it makes it so easy to feel like I’m not doing very much for anyone else.

So back to yesterday…at church…we were sitting there preparing to take the Sacrament and I was reading the words of the hymns and thinking about things and I started to feel, just a little….braver. It’s difficult for me to “contemplate Christ,” or claim “Christ as my friend” as so many people talk about. But yesterday as I really thought about what I truly believe he did for me, I was overwhelmed with how physical it was. His sacrifice was emotional and spiritual, but also very, very physical. He bled, he hurt, and although I don’t deign to know or understand his feelings when facing the Atonement, I believe he even feared. It’s possible he felt trepidation. Here’s the thing, he did it anyway. For Christian people this is what holds everything together- the fact that Christ sacrificed his life and suffered for us makes it possible for us to get through this life 1) with someone who understands our pains and hardships and 2) with the knowledge that we can be forgiven for all our sins and live again. That’s pretty big. He had a purpose, and just then, it happened to be all of mankind.

Thinking about all of this I decided to go on a little walk through the halls to ease the pain in my back, and I just looked at all the pictures of Christ we have in the building. I realised that although I can’t do everything I love to do for my family or the people around me, that I AM doing SOMETHING. It’s not like I’m just lounging around reading books and eating my Mom’s cooking (although to the naked eye…that IS what it looks like) but that the hardships of pregnancy and birth, added even to the hardships of just being sick are working towards a family, a baby, a new life for me AND for John and for our families. All I can do is what I can, if that’s working just part days until I can’t anymore, trying to make sure my husband eats some of the good food my Mom is cooking and have the time and energy for school, trying to let my Mom know how appreciative I am of what she does for me…if all I can do is have deep, tremendous gratitude for being allowed to have this baby and have the time I need to get through this process, then that’s good enough for now. That is my purpose.

John’s parents are in town, just a quick trip, and while we were visiting last night his Dad said something that had been on my mind all day long. Often we take the best care of ourselves by taking the best care of other people. So often what we need is what someone else needs- and while I have been the recipient of so much service the last 9 months, I just need to focus on how I can serve, too. If I can focus on my baby and my family and not worry so much about the changes in my own body (yes, the source of much angst, I must admit) and my own pain, then perhaps this whole process can help lift me out of myself and focus on Camper and John and my other family members. I’m hoping that is the kind of experience this is- something else to add to my list of times in my life where I was able to take whatever was happening and be closer to God because of it. But those things don’t happen on their own. Closeness with God comes when we take our own personal circumstances and figure out how to focus on how we can grow and live His purposes more fully.

I love the scripture:

Mosiah 5:13

For how knoweth a man the master whom he has not served, and who is a stranger unto him, and is far from the thoughts and intents of his heart?

We can know God in one way- by serving Him. It is through serving Him (i.e. the people around us, in whatever way we can) that we grow close to the thoughts and intents of His heart. Theologians and philosophers have spent centuries trying to prove (and disprove) God, to find Him, to know Him…and it all comes down to directing our lives outward in service towards others. He’s told us where to find Him, it’s just up to us to look and to do what we can. And that’s enough.

Tags: atonement, Book of Mormon, Christ, God, LDS Church, pregnancy, religion, scripture, service, sickness, Sunday
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Moods That Take Me

Monday, April 7th, 2008

Well there goes Monday. It was kind of “a day.” I think it started out slow because it was super dark outside- and I would have paid half a million dollars to not have to go to work on time. But alas- to work I went. I’m trying to appreciate it as much as I can so that I don’t jinx myself into bed rest, which, as I’m learning more about it, would literally send me over the deep end. So I guess the “big happening” at work today was our 15 minutes massages- because the collectors reached their goal last month our entire department got massages. I was a little suspect of the process- not sure how I’d feel about it, but since my boss when out of her way to make sure that the guy she got to do it was trained in pre-natal massage, I figured I’d sign up. So- when my turn came I went into the office where the guy set up his chair thing and settled in. First of all- those chairs are designed for men. Or A cups. When he started pushing my back he was squishing my front-ness into this pad thing I had to lean against. So that was distracting. Then I started wondering what I looked like from the back, and spent a good few moments thinking about how I was glad to have my pregg-o pants on that go up to my neck so that my underwear didn’t hang out like some of the other girls I saw earlier in the day. By the end of the 15 minutes I had managed to think every random, fast-paced thought at all applicable to the situation and was not “more relaxed.” I’ve enjoyed facial massages…like…when I’ve gotten a facial…but this just felt weird. It was nice, but…weird. I may just not be a massage type girl. But it was a cool thing for the office to do- and to get paid for, haha. And I would probably do it again just to see if it’s an acquired taste.

The day after that was just blah. I couldn’t concentrate on ANYTHING. I started like 124 projects throughout the day and couldn’t keep going on any one thing specifically. Which, of course, made the day super-long. The long day was only made longer by the fact that our computers apparently didn’t get the “memo” on daylight savings time, so our clocks were about an hour fast for half the day…until we all figured it out…and reluctantly returned to 1pm when we thought it was 2. So sad.

The weekend was really good- we watched conference on Saturday and then went up to watch Cadence and Melody. The conference was so, so good for me this time. I remember on my mission it seemed like every talk was something I needed to hear, something to do with my work and my calling at the time. When I got home I was at a loss because all of a sudden it wasn’t my job to teach the gospel every day. Even before that, when I was in Scranton, I remember the talks really hitting home- showing me something that I was missing. My first months in Provo were the hardest months I’ve ever had anywhere. I felt kind of lost and confused- like I was in a new country where I didn’t know the language. I pretended to fit in, but I often felt inadequate. Although I really, really needed reassurance from my leaders, the men and women who have always been able to help me find my footing in the past, I didn’t feel it. Conference just felt flat. It was as if all of a sudden I didn’t have a duty to fulfill- and because of it, I didn’t have a reason to get help. I told myself that it was normal for a returned missionary to feel a “let-down,” but I was still sad, and disappointed. This conference I decided to try and prepare. I believe that God hears me when I pray- and I believe that He inspires and helps me to understand things through His Spirit….therefore, I figured I’d pray that I’d feel something. And I did. I really hoping for reassurance and direction with regard to becoming a Mom- specifically. I know we’ve made the correct choice- but I’m still scared that I’m not ready or that we rushed it because I am the MOST IMPATIENT PERSON EVER. While I listened to the talks this past weekend (which were full of truths I’ve heard hundreds of times, nothing all that new) I felt like I’ve got my feet under me again. Honestly- it wasn’t anything amazing or new, it was just the same old stuff I’ve heard a hundred times, but in a new way. I really do have faith in God- and I hope to be able to teach my child to find it for herself as well (pronoun chosen at random)- but in order to do so I have to be less lazy than I can be sometimes.

Well anyway. Just my thoughts on conference. I should also say hello to my cousin Sara- who is bravely (and I do mean bravely, because yo…it’s HARD) leaning back and forth between normal pregnancy discomfort and actual BIRTH of said child (a little boy actually). She’s apparently been reading quite a lot these days- so I thought I’d give her her own special shout out. Hi Sara!

Oh- and as for the vitamins (as many people have been asking lately) I did try evening and morning and afternoon and about 3 or 4 different brands PRESCRIPTION from the doctor- but to no avail. So Flintstones it is for me. Do you think it’s possible that I’m just…like…allergic? Hmmm. Who knows. In other symptoms…well, actually, miracles of miracles…there are just no news ones. I don’t think. You could ask John, he seems to notice what’s going on with me before I do these days. He’s a smartie- that one.

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A Good Sunday

Monday, November 26th, 2007

Yesterday was such a good day, for the most part. If you read my next post, you can see that I also had to deal with some drama and emotional stuff that was in many ways NOT fun, but I don’t want to skip over the good parts.

I slept amazingly well Saturday night. (Sunday night too…for some reason). When I woke up on Sunday I was ready to get up, which doesn’t happen very often. I showered and played with my new hair do- and then we went to church. I moved around enough to attend a LOT of different congregations- called wards- and it has been a long long time since I’ve liked any place this much. I told John last night, we just fit. Sacrament meeting was good- and afterward it was time to go hang out with the 8 and 9 year olds. It wasn’t my week to teach, just to provide “backup” for the teacher (we switch on and off) and so I got to sit with the kids. It was so funny, I sat down and kind of yanked at my skirt a little so it would lie over my knees. The little girl next to be did the same thing. When we went to pray, I kind of involuntarily ran my hand through my hair (got a new haircut, touching it a lot lately) and didn’t notice I had done anything until she did the same thing. The whole time she was trying to copy me, kind of on the sly. And the kids are so smart. Last week when I taught we ended up getting into a conversation about truth. We talked about the time period in the Bible after Christ had come and things changed. The people didn’t want things to change, and they resisted the leadership that Christ had left behind (apostles…Stephen the Martyr…etc.) My kid’s question was, how do you know when someone is telling the truth? Christ wasn’t there anymore, and the people were just following what they had been taught their whole lives. I KNOW. 8 YEAR OLDS. So we talked about truth- about how to make sure that we follow God, and not men, which is tricky when God chooses a lot of people to be leaders for us. It came down to prayer, how we felt when we heard people talking (whether they be people on the street holding signs, or teachers in our classrooms), and how Heavenly Father will answer us in our hearts and minds and let us know who we should listen to.

This week we continued the discussion, and I feel like they are really, really learning things. I was scared I was going to be bored with teaching the kids- but it turns out, it’s an amazing place to be. They are just so smart.

Yesterday I was also able to go to my “grownup” meetings as well- as the other teacher and I are going to take turns attending Relief Society and sitting with the kids in the main Primary meeting. When I walked in I was immediately chatted up about my hair, our little peeping Tom problem, how our Thanksgiving was, anything and everything. I felt a part of things- all of a sudden. When did that happen? (It only took 7 months.) I sat next to a woman who was quite old- I wasn’t sure how old until I tried to share my hymn book and she put her hand on mine and said, “It’s ok, I can’t see the words.” Then she sang anyway- all the words, even to the hymns I had never heard. During the lesson she commented about making an effort to love others through working to perfect the qualities the scriptures tell us we need to have. There was a big list, kindness, patience, charity…on and on. She said she got to that one and was stuck- so she’s about 93 years old and has only made it to the third one on the list, but that’s all that’s expected of us- just try, our whole lives, and do as good as we can. It was heartwarming to sit next to her, to share in her kindness and love for other people.

After church our home teacher came over and visited, asked us if we needed anything- and talked about a few of the things that John taught in his lesson in Priesthood today. It simply a good, good day. More later!

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One Saturday

Saturday, October 6th, 2007

Today was conference day. John, Jonathan and I were able to attend the Saturday afternoon session. Let me just tell you, LAST time we tried this is was a wee unsuccessful. We showed up before they were “meant” to give our seats away…but found that the “rules” didn’t seem to hold with regard to greedy Mormons who felt like stealing seats. I was so disapointed, and so…was a little reluctant to try again, maybe just to be disapointed, again. We showed up at the conference center an hour early, and walked into a nearly empty building. Our seats were on the balcony, but pretty centered with regard to all the action, so it was comfortable. It was a nice experience. It was fun to see the general authorities, and much more powerful to hear a big choir in person. I expected the intermediate hymn to be a bit more powerful, with 20,000 people standing and singing- I remember at Pageant how amazing it felt to sing with a large group of people, to feel that sense of community. I didn’t so much feel that community in the conference center- although I did love being there with my husband, and my brother. I felt a new level of interest with what is being said, one that I wish I could cutivalte whenever I hear conference, not just because I’m sitting there. It was also incredibly touching to see Elder Nelson help Elder Wirthin as he lost strength while standing and giving his talk. I noticed him start to shake, and wondered if the other apostles were noticing, and sure enough, I saw the other members of the 12 start to talk to each other. Pretty soon, Elder Nelson stood behind Elder Wirthlin, supporting him from behind. Elder Wirthlin’s talk was about charity- and seeing the love and friendship among these men only amlified his words. It was amazing to see. I’ll never forget the words he spoke about love. They seemed to fill me up, and felt like I truly learned something.

I was just so glad that we got in, and that it was relatively stress free. On the way house I heard one of the events managers that the conference center can hold 21, 000 people, and that today there were 20,000. So, I guess that’s why we had a little wiggle room. I feel satisfied now, and don’t really feel like I’d want to try and go again soon. It’s nice to do it once, and know what it’s like, but I think I’m also going to be grateful for the ability to watch conference on my couch in my PJ’s for a few years.

So now John’s at work for a few hours. He took Tuesday off, and so he’ll be making up a few hours here and there this coming week- that way, we’ll have next Saturday free, really, truly free.

The semester is really starting to move along. I’m in an “ok” state, I’ve procrasinated a few things a little bit, but as long as I get looking at things tomorrow and Monday, I’ll be fine and dandy. Before I know it, I’ll be graduated. That is…if I pass the physical science exam. Yup yup.

So what else is new…I wonder. I think that’s it for now. Just trying to relax a little, waiting for my love to come home and take me out on the town ;) (Also known as walmart….)

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A little love story. (This is long, and might not make sense. No promises.)

Wednesday, June 27th, 2007

When I was young, really really young, I thought that I was meant to meet the man that I would marry by the time I was, oh..I don’t know, 15? Date for a few years, graduate high school, and get married. This was about the time that my cousin Melissa and I would gather up our girl scouting books and play “college,” carrying books and pens and pencils from room to room in my house (because that’ s what you do in college). The hysterical thing was that we didn’t only have our college books and notebooks to tote around, we’d also have diaper bags and dolls- because of course we’d have babies by the time we were in college! Now, babies + college is definitely possible (especially at BYU…), and I’m sure that it works out quite well for a lot of people, but I think I had my own personal sequencing a bit mixed up. Growing up in a Navy town, I was taught that a college degree was “optional.” Marriage, however, was not. If I was lucky, I’d marry an officer. I’d pray for shore duty. Until he drove me crazy and then I’d pray for him to go out to sea. It was a really interesting place to grow up, especially considering that I didn’t realize that the pressures to create a country-serving family were even there. I had some problems in school- I didn’t really have too many friends and spent a lot of my time with my family and babysitting. Any extracurriculars I got involved in were because my cousin had joined. On top of all of it, I didn’t understand why the guidance counselors wouldn’t let me take classes that interested me. I went to them to ask if I could take Physics, and they told me that “sophomores don’t take physics.” I really, really didn’t get THAT logic- and went ahead and “took it at my own risk.” I figured out quickly that any rules they had weren’t necessarily rules, just standard procedure.

We moved away from Connecticut when I was 17, so I had my senior year at a different school entirely. I went from a class size of over a thousand to a class size of about 82. When I went to my homeroom the first morning I was there, I was told that I had caused all of the lockers to shift (for everyone with a last name that started with Sw and below, anyway) and, even worse, I had displaced the top ten. This school was ALL ABOUT preparing for college. I had always wanted to go to college, but it was only moving to MA that I was given the information that I needed to find out where I wanted to go, and how to get myself there. It was about this time that I stopped worrying about marriage all together. I didn’t (and don’t) believe in soul-mates. I don’t think that there is one specific person created for every other person. What I thought was that my choices would ultimately lead me to a position in life where I’d be ready for commitment, and someone else would have made choices that brought him to that same place, and we’d find each other. Romantic, huh? At the time, though, I had a teacher named Mr. Duquette. He made us memorize a saying, “True lovers don’t just find each other along they way. They’re in each other all along.” I can’t find where the quote comes from, I may have gotten it a bit wrong. I usually grabbed onto and believed EVERYTHING that Mr. Duquette said, but what about this? Just a romantic notion- and as I analyzed myself right at that moment, I didn’t feel anyone with me, or waiting for me. I never imagined there would be someone out there looking for someone else, not me necessarily, but someone with my qualities, the qualities that I would someday have because of my experiences. So, fast foward to my decision of where to go to college. I did NOT want to go to BYU. An expectation was set by my community (mostly, churchy community) that I go. I didn’t even apply. I applied to small, catholic schools- mostly Jesuit, and choose Scranton. After about 2 wonderful years there, I got antsy. I knew it was time for somthing to change, but what? I went home for Christmas and drove my parents crazy talking about a mission, no, maybe BYU? no…a mission! By the time I decided, I was heading into my junior year at Scranton. I had to break it to my best friends in the WORLD that I was leaving before senior year, I had to get my life together and realign every goal I had ever set, and prepare to go where ever I was sent. I think this was the first time in my life that I started thinking about marriage in a serious way. I knew it was going to be a priority, I’ve always wanted marriage and a family, and while I had “dated” some people in Scranton- it had amounted to a whole lotta nothing. None of my peers were even thinking about marriage yet, but I still felt a draw. Whether it was my LDS upbringing, my Navy upbringing, the fact that I was now 3 years beyond the age where my Mom and Dad were when they had gotten married, I don’t know. But I felt the pressure. I’ve always been more interested in people who were a bit older than me, and my silly, illogical fear was that by the time I got to where I was going (after the mission…) all the “good ones” would be taken. It sounds so silly now, but I was seriously freaked out that I was making the wrong choice, and delaying a life that I might not have the opportunity to choose again. I had to make a choice: go somewhere where I could possibly meet someone and start THAT life, or go on a mission, delaying it all for another year and a half. I knew, though, that I was meant to go on my mission. Before any serious doubts surfaced, I had my call- and I was preparing to go to England. I just figured that whoever I was meant to be with would wait for me, somehow, without even knowing who I was. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be.

So, I went to England. Again- so many reasons why I was meant to be there when I was there, but too length to discuss just now. I had decided, before I left, to apply to BYU as a transfer student for when I got home. It was crazy- the place I had hated and despised and made fun of and rejected, I was now applying to. I was accepted, given a leave of absence for the time left of my mission, and that was that. I knew where I was going when I got home. I didn’t feel much about it, except that it was right. When I got here, it was MAJOR culture shock. I was the only woman in most of my classes. Aside from the girls that I lived with, I didn’t spend much time with other girls. Most of my friends were the guys from my classes, and my social life consisted of class, study groups, work…and that’s about it. I didn’t expect to run into the same kinds of warnings I got in my first high school, the “there now little lady, can you really handle this class?” kind of warnings. It was an interesting mentality to overcome. When I went for job interviews on campus or talked to advisers, they always asked, “Are you married? Are you engaged? Dating seriously?” As if that would seriously change the advice they’d give me. At one point when John and I had first started dating, I was encouraged to get my doctorate in Comparative Religion. With a degree like that, and “being a woman,” I would have a place at BYU waiting for me. I have since decided that CR is not the path I want to take, but I wonder if the advice would have been different if I was engaged when I asked for it.

It’s like I’m in some kind of weird, “other-wordly” place. It’s not the same mentality as Groton, Dalton, or Scranton- that’s for sure. In some ways better, in some ways worse. But I guess the thing that remains consistent is that I will choose my own path no matter where I am. It’s too hard to conform to what people expect, it’s much better to follow your passion and your goals and your FUN to where you want to go next.

So, now I’m 24. Not to far from 18 (I’d like to think, anyway…) and I’m getting married. Do I believe that John and I were two pieces of one cosmic whole torn apart in the cosmos before being thrown to earth to find each other? Um, no. I don’t. But I DO know that I’ve made choices. I’ve gone places, I’ve felt the urgency to leave one place and go to another for reasons I didn’t understand at the time. I’ve needed certain experiences. I’ve gone through a few things that afterward I thought, “Now, well, I needed that!” with no specific explanation of WHY I needed that. I know that John has experienced the same thing. Do I think that maybe, just maybe, there is someone who knows us both so well- and has some amazing ability to get two people in the same place at the same time, first guiding them through a series of experiences in order to allow them to work out their own happiness? Now THAT’S a yes. So, in a way- without me even recognizing it, we’ve been there together all along. Maybe to a God who sees all time in one instant- it was just a waiting game, and when we were listening, we were encouraged to wait. And I guess that’s the point, I’m finally understanding what Mr. Duquette meant.

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Another Weekend

Sunday, June 24th, 2007

Soooooo….it’s been a weekend. I’ll start with the most pleasant things first. Yesterday morning John and I set out to find some fun baby presents- as Emily and Jared just had their newest baby girl- Melody. She is sooooo teeny and wiggly and pretty, and smells like baby. I just love her. It was fun to see Cadence as big sister, too.

So, after the morning adventures of Babies-R-US and wandering around Salt Lake a bit, John and I headed back to Provo to ready ourselves to head down to Manti to see the Mormon Miracle Pageant. I spent two summers in the Hill Cumorah Pageant in New York, and so I was really excited to see what the pageant in Manti was like. I knew it would be smaller- but I thought it’d be a smaller version of the same. We picked up Chad and Alicia- and drove down. The drive down was quite nice, I tried to find something new to listen to on the IPOD, ended up listening to…um, country something or other. Realised, definitively, that John IS from Texas. He and Chad had a nice singalong, and then we arrived. We parked with relatively little trouble, found some good seats, and then John and I took a walk while A&C watched the “stuff.” We walked around Manti a bit- found some decks of cards in case we wanted to play games while we were waiting. We got some snacks and ate them on the way back. Then Alicia and Chad went for a walk. The pageant finally started at about 9:30, and it was, well. Corny. I was a little disappointed. It seemed to cater to people who already knew a lot about the church- there were some pretty big licenses taken with the stories- and I felt like some of the important facts were a little distorted. The story was hard to follow, and I just didn’t care about the characters. I think it’s been done for the same way for so long- and the actors try to “spiff” it up with energetic arm motions and big sweeping gestures, but they just make it hard to take seriously. I think that this Pageant is in need of a little love, some good direction, and some reorganization. These pageants can be such a great way for people to be introduced to the church, but in order to make a difference, they can’t be a joke.

So now we’re having a lazy Sunday. Hopefully we’ll be well-rested and start the week well. Lots of stuff to do :)