Too many thoughts

I have so many thoughts lately about the power of words and how I can do better. I choose garbage words out of laziness. I would feel like I had better manners if I worked harder on choosing bigger words.  Words other than crap and awesome.

(this sign is awesome)

 I also am thinking about faith and how it can be hard to behave a certain way when you have strong personal feelings.  Like when I am mad.  You know.... God says don't get mad.  I get mad sometimes (shhhhh....)  And I was thinking about how controlling my temper would be doing what God says to do.  It would be an act of faith.  So.  Maybe I should have more faith in what God is telling me to do and trust that even though I am seeing red I should keep quiet and master that feeling.  I'm thinking that act of faith would be worth it in the end.

I have been thinking about "Jesus the Christ" by James E Talmage.  Have you read that book?  I have been thinking that whenever I read that book it ruins any church function because all I hear is James E Talmage in the back of my head correcting whoever is talking.  Maybe it is good.  But mostly it ruins church.  I love learning and reading from him though.  There is so much I don't know.

I have been thinking about the push and pull of hard work and peace and rest.  I love getting things done that are hard.  I love the feeling that I have taken good care of my kids.  Hours of homework, vacuuming, talking with them about minecraft, talking with them about the weird liberal things they learn at school (who knows what they might want to discuss??  I just want to be always available!), picking up socks, making dinner interesting despite the fact my kids just want a cheese quesadilla, organizing and cleaning up my home.  The list goes on.  You know what I'm talking about. 

(what is it about this game?  Am I a bad mom for not knowing the answer?)

And then there is rest.  I find lately that I don't rest well unless everything is done.  And um... it never is.  My husband was talking about a work seminar he went to about being a good manager.  The seminar spoke about the art of taking a fifteen minute break.  Yeah that sounds crazy to me. Fifteen minutes is valuable time people.  I can get a lot done in fifteen child free minutes.   Yet, I think if I went ahead and took fifteen minutes to say, eat a snack and sit down- I would then be refreshed so that all the mom projects didn't take me forever because I am dragging my tired, hungry, and therefore irritable body through doing it.  Someday I hope to grow up and perfect taking fifteen minute breaks. 

Lately I am thinking about how different each person is.  I am also thinking about how good people are, yet how easy it is to judge a person by one act.  I think that is wrong.  I think about how that feels wrong lately.  I am so tired of anyone I love being misjudged.  I am also tired of misjudging them myself.  I am too easily critical of those I love.  I am wishing I could just let it go and live my life without ever worrying about how anyone else is living their life.  It's super hard.  It's super dumb that it is super hard. 

I am thinking about body image.  What is right?  There is no right.  Body image is personal.  Some people like myself hate gaining weight and it goes waaaaaaay back as to why.  Some people work hard every day to be thin thin thin and fit.  Some people work hard and are not thin.  Some people are cool with not working hard and are still thin.  Some people.... blah blah blah there are so many different "rights" and mostly I am tired of my own inner dialogue and how I go back and forth between believing I am beautiful and having positive inner thoughts and just bashing on myself.  It is getting so old.  And just when I thought I was doing better-- I wasn't anymore.

I have been wrestling with being a good mom and what it means.  Yeah.  I am about to hang this sign in my boys bathroom. 

(its totally motivating)

I have been thinking about protesters.  And faith.  And trust in my religion.  And complacency.  And blind faith vs educated faith.  I respect educated faith more than blind lately.  Yet I spent the first 25-27 years of my life respecting blind faith more.  I can't remember when that shift happened. There is maybe nothing I love better than reading a book by James E Talmage, an educated man, and just drinking in his expertise on Jesus Christ.  It is awesome.  I also loooove listening to anyone educated talking about their views on religion.  It is a breath of fresh air to me.  I think that I also respect protesters when they are educated.  I like hearing what they have to say.  It interests me. I am not a protester.  I think I am not smart enough to be one.

I have been thinking about how blessed I am to have friends lately.  Intelligent friends who can relate to one another and who lift each other up and encourage one another to be amazing all in the same spot are rare.   I feel like God was good to me to gather so many people where I live that I would pay to spend the day with.  And they don't charge. 

There is more.  I am going to stop there for today.

image credits:
http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.digitaltrends.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/Minecraft-360.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.digitaltrends.com/gaming/minecraft-xbox-360-edition-review/&h=844&w=1200&sz=102&tbnid=X9mLEW-DMD-KdM:&tbnh=122&tbnw=173&zoom=1&usg=__01J_QD0jn93e7ht1wa5387esKME=&docid=ptYp6ElsVVKSAM&sa=X&ei=BlxhUvPUO4er2AWAxYDQBA&ved=0CDIQ9QEwAQ

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.artfire.com/uploads/product/5/875/92875/4692875/4692875/large/im_too_old_for_this_crap_funny_wood_sign_c12360f4.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/product_view/CountryWorkshop/4692875/Im_Too_Old_For_this_Crap_Funny_Wood_Sign/Folk_Art_Primitives/Signs&h=455&w=500&sz=55&tbnid=tOf9I8XvjWoAQM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=99&zoom=1&usg=__9FL6hSLNVH8wmzSVKDsTmFXhsUA=&docid=j-fu1nWahneT3M&hl=en&sa=X&ei=C11hUru1OMbK2AWfp4GABA&ved=0CDIQ9QEwAg

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/104145810105605316/ (so this link is broken but this is where I originally bought the sign for the bathroom)

If I lose, I want to lose happily

Is your life a race?

I find something so relieving about reading or listening to Conference talks that seem to be telling me to slow down.  When I read council saying-- take it slow-  my body, mind, and soul sigh.  I literally feel my spirit taking a hopeful breath and my tired brain thinks,

"Would that be okay, 'cause I'm exhausted."

Every once in a while I like to stop and think--- what are my priorities?

This talk by President Thomas S Monson is the latest of many talks I have read about slowing down and thinking about what matters.  I liked these parts.

"In this fast-paced life, do we ever pause for moments of meditation—even thoughts of timeless truths?

"...when times of crisis arise, when loved ones are hurt or injured, when sickness enters the house of good health, when life’s candle dims and darkness threatens. Our thoughts become focused, and we are easily able to determine what is really important and what is merely trivial."

I really need these reminders.  I'm so grateful for the drink of water Conference is.  I can let other voices tell me what I need or should be doing much too often.  And most often, it is my own inner demon voice tormenting me day by day.

It says,

Utter Girl, your house is messy.

Utter Girl, your grass ought to be cut more often.

Utter Girl, you do not cook enough.

Utter Girl, you did not spend enough time at the gym.

Utter Girl, you did not spend enough time on your hair and make up.  I mean, how many days in a row has your hair looked like that??

It says other things.  Harsher things.  Cruel things.  I am my own worst critic and it seems sometimes that the only answer to the many calls of my inner voice is to just move faster.

When I became sick a year and a half ago and then remained sick thereafter (to varying degrees), I began to notice that the first thing to go was the house.  It became messier.  Then, my grass rarely was cut.  I certainly didn't get to the gym, and my hair was often ugly, while makeup became non-existent.

But what really really bugged me in the back of my SOUL were thoughts of my family. 

Are the boys happy enough? Have we walked together in nature enough? Do they see their friends enough?  Am I spending enough time chatting with them?  Does my husband feel supported enough?  Am I serving my friends enough?  Am I spending enough time on my calling?  Do those I love feel loved???

I had questions and nagging thoughts still, but the questions changed.  I also found that I could live with the first set of things going, but I absolutely hated letting the second set of things be neglected.  The first set of things were things that made me look as if I had it together, but the second set of things were what truly needed to be held together.

Does that make sense?

This past six months has brought on an improvement in my health, and with it, more capability to keep up with the lists.  But I'm tired sometimes.  And I hope I will remember the next time I am tired that the best thing for my soul and for my eternal happiness is to slow down.  Then, after I slow down, to think and ponder about lessons I've learned about what matters.  I hope that I let go of the things that make me appear like I have it together, and I focus on the things that really keep me together.  Because if I go to sleep at night having gone to the gym, done my hair, cleaned my home and with a manicured lawn-- yet I didn't spend time with my children, didn't serve my amazing friends, my husband felt neglected because I was much too tired to spend time with him after hurriedly putting the kids to bed--- those are the things that will keep me up at night.  Those are the things my soul will cry out over.  Weeping over lost time with chubby cheeks, tiny voices, and loving arms around me.  These are the things I can't live happily without.  So if I am tired enough that I need to choose, I want to just teach myself to slow down and pick the better part.  I know my soul will give that wonderful sigh if I do.  That wonderful sigh of true content.



+

Did You Know?

Did you know, that if your kids want to be in a parade, there is a way to call up some of their friends and make that happen?  Oh yes.  You can decorate their bikes, scooters, really any contraption with wheels with streamers or balloons (or both), you can turn up the music really loud in your car, and you can follow as every one rides or pushes their contraption around the block and your kids will Totally feel like they have been in a parade.

In fact, your kids and those friends will feel glorious afterwards.  What?

I just love the way summer inspires me to slow down and take time to create magic for my kids.  It isn't even hard.  That suprised me.  I thought it would be harder. 

 I feel that deep down, I am a really terrible mother.  I think I live in fear of that being true.  Every day I look in the mirror, second guessing all of the decisions I make for my children.   I wonder to myself, "Am I doing it all wrong?  Do I really have any idea of what I am doing?  Is that seriously a cobweb in my BLINDS?"  The thing is, I really really want to do it right, and I live in fear that I am doing it wrong.  Not just a little bit wrong either, like, psychological damage ruined life wrong.  Sheesh I need more medication.

I think there is a point to this.

On days like the Parade Day, as I sit around the dinner table and hear the kids tell thier father with shining eyes that mom made a parade and they were in it, I feel deep down inside that maybe I did something right.   I like that feeling and I try to repeat that feeling as often as possible.

And don't try to tell me I am a good mom.  We don't really know each other well enough for you to do that.  I think what I really wonder is-- do other mom's share my fear?  Or am I the only one who feels, "God made me a mom and I am sure it is a joke he's playing on me most of the time."

Oh yes, God has a sense of humor.  Don't ever doubt it. 

If you do share that fear with me, what do you do to combat it?  A parade?  Maybe?

I feel like reading books to my children at night is a good mom thing too.  I always feel like, "Man, I am an awesome mom.  I like, read to my kids.  Whew!"  Isn't that funny?  When we all sit down at the table for dinner at the same time, I feel pretty darn awesome too.  Oh- family home evening is another one.  If I am doing family home evening, I totally have an I'm a terrific person moment.  What are your moments?  Tell me tell me.

Peanut Butter? Um... No

My third son asks me every day if he,

"can make a butter samwich and eat it?"

The first time he asked me if he could do this we were going on a picnic.  When I am trying to herd my children out the door for an event like this, I generally speak to all of them at once.  So this day I said,

"Everyone make yourself a sandwich, put it in a baggy, then put it in your lunchbox so we can go have a picnic.

My third child, who is 4, had never made himself a sandwich before.  I was running around like a crazy person filling water bottles with ice water, digging around for granola bars, and resurrecting lunch boxes that had been getting buried in the pantry since school had let out for summer.  I suppose while I was doing this he was thinking,

"Hmmmm.... I am not very good at spreading things on bread like my brothers are.  Is there a very soft substance that I also like to eat on bread?  Then I can be big like them..."

I came back from crazy-finding-gathering-long-lost-lunch-paraphernalia land to Jackson proudly showing me a sandwich in a baggy inside his lunch box.  He said,

"I made a butter sandwich!"

 I said, "A peanut butter sandwich?"

He responded, "No, a butter sandwich."

Um.  Okay.

He has made himself a butter sandwich nearly every day since then.

Ew. 

But you should see him.  His chubby cheeks lift towards the counter as he searches for creamy yellow butter from the butter dish with his knife.  He concentrates as he determines that he is going to try to cut it in half by himself this time.  The way he carefully brings his plate to the table and then the way he eats all but the crust and then declares, "I can cut all my samwiches in half by myself for you now mom.  When you make grilled cheese, I will cut it for you."  He gets this look in his eyes as he thinks about these glorious future moments of independence. 

Dear little one.  I hope I can give you more chances to feel independent in your life.  I love the look you get in your eyes as you work for something you want.  You inspire me to help all three of my boys have that look every day of their lives.  You are so precious to me.  I am so glad I am your mom.

I Left My Dad First

I left my dad almost 12 years ago.

So really, this is my fault.  My dad came to visit me this weekend in all his glory.  He is bigger than life to me and to his grandchildren.  He is a get on the floor and play, joker, make you feel wonderful type of dad and grandfather.  He will make dinner with me and chat about whatever deep thoughts are going through my head, then he will make me laugh until I cry.  He will charm my entire group of friends until they all wish they knew him better.  He is an absolutely sweet hearted, sincerly thinks he has the best kind of daughter type of guy.   He is a work on his laptop so he doesn't get behind in his business from the time everyone is in bed until 2 in the morning, then wake up early to work until we all wake up so he can play all day and make us feel special person.  He is my hero.   I love him so much.

I find myself enjoying immensly every meal I make for him.  Anything I can do to add to his comfort and care brings me deep satisfaction.  I am honored to serve this great man.  It is an honor.  I would wash his feet, then look around proudly at anyone who witnessed it.

He left me this morning to go back to where he belongs.  He went back to his home where he is needed and loved.  I'm pretty sure my heart just broke a little.

I left him first though.  So really, this is my fault.  I grew up and found another man to fit into my heart and make meals for.  Another man to honor and serve, and I never came back home.  It shows how wonderful this new man was.  How else could I leave?

Love you dad.  I will miss you until I see you again.  Thanks for honoring us with a visit for the weekend.

My Super Cool Husband Had a Birthday

(I suggested the jazz hands.  They add a little something)

This shall be my ode to my husband.  But I am no good at odes.  Just know that.  He does, but I won't let that stop from trying!

My husband is a very patient man.  He married me when I was the tender age of 18, his idea even!  He has waited very patiently as I have grown up.  I'm still working on it, in fact.  We have been married for 11 years now, and every year gets sweeter.

So the sad, sad truth is that I had my first child three days before my husbands birthday and so my husband has had crappy birthdays ever since. 

My eldest child gets rockin birthdays with a theme and a decorated house and a friends party every year.  It's pretty awesome.  I like to make big deals out of birthdays.  I like to pick up my kids from school at lunch time and party at Mcdonalds.  I like to make them feel special all the day long.  A birthday is just once a year, so I enjoy making others feel special on their day.

But there is just something about me and my first child having a birthday just three days before my husband.  Something about it that makes me seriously too exauhsted to make more than one person a very special birthday party in one week.

This year was the year of the husband.

I invited 20 friends over for dinner.  Oh yes.  I made dinner for them all.  To be fair, I asked some of them to bring salad.  I shopped for silver and yellow decor, decorated to my hearts desire (almost, I think there could have been more balloons), and I tried to think of things to make my dear husband feel special on his day.  We cleared the tables and chairs away after dinner and dessert and had a racous night of games afterwards.  I had to pretend to be a dog at one point.  It was legendary.  You had to be there.

I know what you are thinking.

"WHERE can I get one of those crowns???"  Well, everything can be had at a price my dear.  AnYtHiNg.

Yeah, my art skills aren't fantastic.  So sue me.  One of our friends at the party asked me if my children had helped make the crown.

I have really great handwriting as well.  My handwriting is as awesome as my art skills. 

I sure do love my husband.  I am so glad I finally was able to give him the party I have wished I had given him for the past 9 years.  Love you babe.  You are wonderful.

Lest You Think I Never Make Gross Things

So I would like you to picture a big bowl of Honey Nut Chex Cereal in my hand, because that is what I ate for dinner tonight.

You know, there are different things that happen to people that make them feel as though they had a good or bad day.

Maybe they felt skinny that day.  Good day.  Maybe they went for a run.  Good day.  Yoga?  Good day.  Maybe they told someone they loved them and they said it back.  Good day.

For me lately, there are two things that determine whether or not I have a good day or not.  No joke.  Unfortunately.


One-- Whether or not I threw an unwarranted tantrum.  I mean, I'm all 30 and stuff now.  Tantrums for no good reason ought to have been left with my single digit years-- but they have stuck with me.

Two--  Whether or not what I made to eat that day tasted good.  What?

Well, both of those things happened the bad way today.  Not only did I have an unwarranted tantrum, but what I attempted to bake was a total flop.

It was floptastic.

Darn.

So, I had a really good therapy session with a very wise friend who calmed me back down after my tantrum.  After I declared four loaves of very flat french bread  inedible(my first fail with that recipe), I poured myself a bowl of cereal.  I may have ate icecream before that bowl of cereal.  Two things justify eating dessert before dinner. 

One--  Going out to a resturaunt

Two--  A very bad day.

This post is funny for a couple reasons. 

ONE--  I really liked that talk with my friend so that means the day wasn't a total bust.

TWO--  After the bread fail I  had a really fun conversation with my brother that reminded me what I bake isn't everything.   

Now that I think about it, the day was pretty darn great.

Hmmm...

Also, my littlest baby four year old son wouldn't go to bed until I read him the same Cars book I have read him a meeellion times the past few months.  I like to watch his chubby hands turn the pages.  That part was pretty great as well.

Then, my oldest recited word for word the facts from his book about the universe.  Word for word.  He had this look of complete discovery and fascination that I couldn't look away from though.  Have you seen my oldest smile?  He has dimples.  He has the most handsome smile.  I was so glad he wanted to share with me the new things he was learning about the universe, by golly, just to see his face light up.  I could listen to him rattle of facts I already learned years ago forever.

Okay I officially have more than two reason why my day was actually great.  And now in all fairness here is the middle one.

Oh my he is soooooooooooo cute!

Second Taste

This is why I bake for other people in families that are not my own.  When I asked my second son ( I have three) to finish his dinner this is the face he made.  The red eyes just make this picture.

After that we had a little photo shoot.

Do you read the blog Cjane Enjoy It?  (cjanerun.com)

Well, for the longest time she had this quote at the top of her blog about how we write to taste life twice, once in the living and another in the telling-- or something clever like that.

I have been thinking about that quote for the past few days. 

I have been thinking about how sometimes when I taste life the first time it isn't so sweet-  and how I'm okay with that.  Life can be frustrating and difficult that first time tasting it.  But if I can snap a picture of it and taste it a second time by writing about it-  it is so sweet to look back on.  This is my one life. I struggle onward to make it awesome.  Because I am struggling the first time around to make it awesome-  it may make the taste a little bitter.  But the second time I am just enjoying it, laughing at it, reliving it.  I can see more clearly the parts of it that are awesome.

That's why I like keeping a record of my life.  It is wonderful to taste. 

I am sitting up in my bed with my laptop on my... lap (whatdoyouknow) and I am considering the mound of starburst wrappers that have piled up on the end table next to me.

This little guy told me that he wanted to play baseball yesterday.  Little did I know that what he meant was he wanted me to blow up one long balloon and four little round balloons and then play with those.  I love having a four year old.

Action shot!

I was in charge of throwing the balloons at him.  Have you ever tried to throw a balloon to a certain spot?  It's hard.

Real life shot!

So if you were wishing to only read blogs from people who do their children's hair before taking pictures, and who also always have wonderfully clean and organized houses in the back ground, I'm sorry you are reading my blog right now.

Here we are in the office where the balloon making was happening.

I love this kid so much.  How did I ever get so lucky?  We hang out every day, just thinking about what we can get into next.  Today Jackson painted stickers of snowmen.  I thought that was pretty weird but he thought it was the coolest thing ever.  I spent an hour on the treadmill and he spent an hour running in between the kitchen and the office alternately painting and showing me what he had done.

I have been thinking about my health lately. Four weeks ago my doctor put me on a new medicine and weaned me off most of my other meds based on the diagnosis I received at the Mayo Clinic and I am feeling better.  I occasionally have a few of my old symptoms come up-- like today my stomach and joints were hurting a little bit and I have been tired the past few days, but nothing like what it was.   I really feel so good.  I have been able to accomplish the things I wanted to do and I have been so grateful for my healthy body the past two weeks.  What a remarkable blessing a healthy body is.  I feel liberated.  I have had the most fun playing with my kids though.  We play Just Dance on the Xbox.  My four year old makes me pretend to be the yellow ranger (cause she's a girl).  We make cookies, play with playdough, and make crafts.  The house is relatively clean.  I make dinner.  It is really weird.  For almost a year those types of things were sporadic to non-existent.  I am a lucky girl.

Speaking of making dinner.

Want some?

Recipe found HERE.

Sometimes I Just Need to Breathe

Today was so fun.  I woke up feeling well enough to go to a yoga class at my gym.  It is always heaven when I can make it to Yoga.  The boys enjoy playing with friends while I take my class, so it is a double bonus.

The rest of the afternoon was typical, then I had a friend over for dinner-- both of us have our husband out of town so we thought it would be fun to get our kids together to play.  We had such a good time, but we ended up staying up later than we usually do. 

I found myself taking lots of deep breaths as I put the kids in bed.

Do you ever feel this way?  Like there are times when you just want your children to work as a group?  Bed time really is one of those times for me.  I need them to all be one big piece of clay, molding to my every desire.  I need to say, "Everyone kneel for prayers"  only once, and then have it happen.  I need to say, "Now everyone hop in bed to get tucked in,"  and then have it happen.  Kiss on the cheek, hugs, tucks, then I just want to turn on the primary music, turn out the lights, and walk out.  Done for the day!

But nope.  These are three very strong personalities I am dealing with here.  And if they don't feel they have expressed exactly how different they are during the day, they feel a deep need to get it expressed before I turn out that light.  I race to turn out that light.  The faster the better.  But they usually beat me to it with tears, tantrums, requests for drinks AfTeR I have already tucked them in, requests to each pick out their own book for a story time, each one wants cuddle time, and it had better be the exact same amount for each child, and they each want to be tucked in one million times.

Whew!

During all this madness, I noticed my middle sweet son seemed to have something bugging his little heart.  He is my sensitive one.  He has fairer skin and lighter eyes, and he has a very sweet heart that is easily injured.  I wondered about him.  Then I forgot about him as I finally finished the race and got that blessed light turned off.

I came to my room and finally got into comfy pajamas, and guess who I see peeking through my doorway?  Middle, sweet, fair eyed one. 

I was so sad to have my alone comfy pajama time interrupted that I instantly asked him (in not so sweet tones) to go back to bed for REALS.

I snuggled up in bed with junk food, turned on HGTV (husband out of town;), and slowly felt my knots releasing in my back. (YOGA)

And lo-- guess who showed back up, this time with tears on his little fair face, streaming right from those light green eyes?  The middle boy. 

Hmmm...

"You hurt my feelings..."  He said with trembling lip.

 I'll bet.

 "I don't know how to read and I need help finishing my book.."  tear... 

He's lucky he came after I had taken a breath and ate some junk food.  I am not a very good nighttime mommy.  Even on my best days the most I manage is an even toned voice.  But a miracle happened here.  I suddenly felt my heart opening to my fair child.  All I wanted to do was tell him to get a book and cuddle up with me on my beds while I read it to him. 

I did.  He did.  It was the sweetest moment of my day seeing his face light up my room with smiles.  It was so worth it. 

I thought about it after he left. 

I mean-- it was obviously a miracle.  My heart completely melted when I saw him.  I felt calmed and so wonderful as I loved on him.  I gave him exactly what he wanted and it actually turned out to be what we both needed.  I felt love and strength just pouring in to me so I could be there for my boy.

As I thought this moment in my life through, I felt like I could see that I had sacrificed some personal time and given it to my family.  It was a very small act, but it was very important to my five year old.

I feel like if I can do this every so often, perhaps I will continued to be inspired and strengthened to give what my children need in times of crisis. 

I keep feeling that everything will work out just fine during our trials, but I felt like I caught a glimpse of exactly how it will work out tonight.

I just need to keep making a special effort for my family.  Nothing huge.  I need to keep doing the little things that bring us closer together.  God will bless me with inspiration and patience as I do so.  And perhaps we will make it through with strengthened relationships and happy hearts at the end of each day.  And maybe my children will think back someday on how they grew up and the mother they had and they will have some special memories in their hearts of their mother loving them.

Start Moving

I was reading in the Ensign yesterday morning before I got ready for church.

There was this lovely article in July called "Start Moving"

I saw the title of this article and I didn't think it would apply to my challenges lately, but I love that Topic so I was intrigues anyways.  And what do you know?  It was just what I needed to hear.  I love the way that works.  God blesses me when I just try to study every day. 

There is this little article on the same page called, "By Small Means"

It is written about someone who is in college.  Not yet married.  No big responsibilities.  Finding extra time in their life to do some of their favorite things, like reading, even.

Now, I am NOT a college student ( I would love that though!)  and I have MaNy responsibilities.  I am married.  But I felt I could still relate with this person because I too have some free time on my hands lately.  My children are getting older and more independent.  I have to rest because of my health problems.  I love reading.  I felt some stirrings in my soul as I read this and felt I would really be able to relate to this article if I kept the spirit with me as I read.

This person wrote, "... I was not progressing.  I was not exercising my faith or being diligent in anything in my life.  I had stopped working toward a goal.  I was simply waiting for something to happen."

Now, I could relate to this in a way.  I had had so many impressions to slow down.  To allow my body to heal when it needed it.  To not have such high expectations of myself.  To relax. 

This is so against my nature that I pretty much felt I had to numb my brain and personality to achieve it.  I was relaxing.  I was reading.  But everyday I was going to bed wishing I had played with the children more. 

One day, I played for about five minutes with the kids.  It was a goofy little game I made up involving blocks and knocking them down with superhero action figures.  I really think it lasted five minutes before I felt I needed to lay down again.  That night, as I asked my boys what their favorite part of their day was, each of them said playing with me was it.

I went to bed with a few tears.  Wishing I could do more but just not knowing how to begin.  I didn't want to overdo it.  But mostly, I didn't want to underdo it.  Know what I mean?  I have felt lost in the mommy area. 

I kept reading the Ensign article.  He said many things that worked on my heart about just trying to improve in very small ways.  Moving forward, even it it was slow.  Just moving forward.  Then he said this,

"I made a special effort to be more involved in my ward, even if it meant sacrificing some personal time."

This is when I am most grateful for the spirit and the way God takes our efforts to study and makes sure we hear what WE need to hear to become more at peace and in harmony with His ways.

This is what I read to myself,

"I made a special effort to be more involved in my family-- even if it meant sacrificing some personal time."

That was it!  That was what I needed to do!  Not anything huge.  Not anything unmanageable.  Not anything that would sacrifice my precarious balance with my health.  Just sacrificing personal time.  So, say I am feeling well for a minute.  Say I have a book calling my name, or some laundry that needs to be a done.  A phone call I would love to make to a friend.  What if during those times I made, "A SPECIAL effort to be more involved in my family."?

And that is what I will do. 

I promised an update on letting others help me.

Yesterday I was released from a very beloved calling.  My favorite calling I have ever had.  It was really hard.  The bishop called me into his office, and desired to give me comforting counsel.  I let him.  I even tried to listen to his advice.  I was given many hugs.  I allowed a tear filled goodbye from a woman I worked with in my calling.  Instead of blocking these things out and dealing with the pain privately, I looked these lovely people in the eye.  I shared tears with them.  I thanked them for their kind words.  I hugged them.  I shook hands with them (if they were guys).  Really, I opened my heart and allowed them in.  I let them comfort me and tell me it would be okay.

I have to say.  I have never felt more loved by my Heavenly Father.  I felt a deep contentment way down to the souls of my feet.  The feeling still lingers today.