Of Things That Matter Most

I'm so tired right now I can barely think. If you find a typo, please forgive me. But it is my goal to write here everyday and reflect for a moment.

Today I realized what I could not do. I could not continue to take care of someone elses' kids for a few days during the next couple of weeks. The thought of canceling on a commitment made me cringe. The thought of the condition of my house and my own inability to plan and organize right now made me cringe more.

I haven't had my thyroid medication for over two weeks and nothing to supplement it. I'm doing this in order to prepare for a radioactive iodine scan. Typically, missing my medication has no affect on my mood. But when I've gone without it for a prolonged period of time I become very tired. I start to let things slide, things like laundry and clutter. I become so tired that even cooking when I'm hungry becomes an ever-fluctuating scale of "how hungry am I really" and "I'm too hungry to feel good enough to go do something about it." Now that I've started the low-iodine diet, I'm really feeling it even more. Everything takes time to prepare--the meat's frozen, the beans are dry and need to soak overnight, the veggies need chopped--and I'm just too tired. Maybe I'll sleep first. Well, anyone can see where that kind of thinking takes you. You wake up three hours later more hungry and more weak than before. Lastly, I feel bad for feeling like I feel this bad. Follow that? I know that other people have it much worse, and I'm not in pain, so I would just like to kick myself. Now this is when being seriously hypothyroid affects my mood. So, I decided I couldn't care for anybody's children but my own right now. I can barely do that. Ellen's spent the last two days wearing her footy pajamas with baths in between.

I shared this with my husband and he said he was going to make me a plaque--something about not taking on more than you can handle. Somehow that made me very depressed--shouldn't we constantly be striving to just gain that one more inch everyday? He read to me from the Doctrine and Covenants--(a book of scripture we both love) and told me how Joseph was counseled to not run faster than he was able. I'm not sure that helped--I know I'm not running as fast as him. (See some flawed thinking here??? ;)

As I started to backtrack, later in the day, and think that I might be able to pull up out of this by next Monday (I'll still be off my medication and nothing will have changed) and perhaps I could still take care of these boys--(yes the run-on is how my mind sounds to me) when my visiting teacher called to say she was on her way. She came and began sharing President Uchtdorf's talk Of Things That Matter Most. He talked of turbulance--and how when going through adverse conditions, slowing down is sometimes the best action. Slowing down sounds nice--but where? I have a basketball game for Sam at 7PM--and isn't that one of the things that matters most? Or how about getting my little one's out of the house at least once today.

However, what I began to see was that he was right. While she talked, I decided not to go the game, but to take Samantha a small dinner and come back home. Gwen sat with the little ones. I came home and listened to one of our prophets talk about the things that matter at length. I was sure I had chosen the right thing to stay home and rest--rest so that I can be kind.

If there's one thing that will make me cranky, it's not enough sleep. So, I need more sleep right now. Is that such a bad thing? What would you do if a doctor told you to stay home and rest, enjoy your kids, and let your husband pay all the bills. Well, since I'm new to the stay at home mom thing--I can see it from that perspective pretty easily, if I slow down and think about it. I'm on a vacation for the next month and all I have to do is love my family.

That is what matters most. Thanks David, Gwen and President Uchtdorf. I needed all those yellow lights because my brain has been going a little faster than I had the ability to control. Thanks Tasheana for being understanding concerning the boys.

I love my life and I'm going cross-eyed now. G'night. :)

On Being Invisible

     Invisibility is like watching a movie; you can see and hear everything, but you can't affect any of it. I had this experience today. My 14 yr old had a second freshman basketball game and I worked hard to load everyone up and get there in time to see it. I arrived at half-time and was not disappointed. I got to see the nervousness of guarding and being unsure of yourself and the confidence of grabbing the ball, running down the court and making a solid two point basket. I was amazed at the transition I saw in Sam. The surety of movement was what impressed me most. I was glad I came. We tried several times to get Sam's attention and thought we had. But after the game Sam walked right past us, I thought things needed to be collected and tried to wait patiently. Fifteen minutes went by and I decided to at least load up the little ones. Another fifteen minutes went by and I called out to at least three teammates to locate Sam. None of them responded. I sat in the car with the kids. I waited and waited and finally got a call from my neighbor--Sam had gotten a ride and was home. I was really heartbroken, moreso when Sam admitted to never seeing us--US in the front row with Zebby trying to break my nose with his head and Ellen climbing on everyone. Here I am, holding him down on my lap with all my might, shouting at Ellen to sit down and holding the baby's bottle up for her to eat while she's still in her carseat. I was invisible--the kids and I were invisible; we must have been. Even while Ellen shouted over and over, "Sam, I'm here! Sam, I'm here!"  I just think not one Nobel Prize physicist has anything on me. They can theorize, but I have actually experienced invisibility. And to think, all I had to do was be a mother to a 14 year old.

On the other hand, I got to be there. And I got to see how far Sam had come. And that was way better than any old movie--and totally worth being invisible. It was beautiful.

There are moments of reflection that are deep and personal and oddly enough, quickly forgotten. The transition that I've been blessed with from being a graduate student and teacher to being a stay at home mom has been challenging. Most of the challenges were to be expected, but currently I'm in one that I never planned on. I'm going on my second year with my husband overseas and me with four kids at home. The opportunities for reflection are few when listening to the cacophony of children 4 yrs, 2 yrs and 5 months. And please lets not forget the 14 yr old who plays the trumpet, the baritone, the french horn, the vacuum hose and the drumsticks down the hall, on the microwave, the banisters and the backs of every chair. I took those drumsticks away from her but now she just uses anything she can pick up. Regardless, I still occasionally have wonderful thoughts and moments of new insight and I remember, I am still here. You know, the me who grew up spending so much time being my own best friend and pondering the grand and intricate attributes of the universe.
I wrote once about how I was searching for someone who could share my sacred moments. Those were the moments, when with my daughter, she would say something hysterically funny, or ask me something that required a much deeper level of honesty and courage to answer. I wrote that, not long before David and I started dating. We only dated for a month before we were engaged. We had known each other for about 8 months, but I was too busy trying to set him up with other people to realize that he was just right for me. He fit seamlessly into our lives from May 17, 2005 forward. It's like he's always been here--until now. It is so hard to center myself without him, without a few quiet moments to reflect and laugh with him. We were so excited when we were finally able to video chat--but there is no quiet time to do that and it is impossible to have some of those conversations with 4 kids climbing over you or sulking because you had to sternly get them out of the picture for a moment.
David wasn't always the way I found my center--before him it was nearly always the Lord. I'm afraid I've been neglectful of him in the last five years. I've rarely taken time to talk to him like I used to. When I complained about not finding someone to share my life with, my friend Kelly told me that I shouldn't worry and don't rush, because right now I could study and pray and reflect and once the kids came that would be something that only happened rarely. I was skeptical, but being here alone, I've found she's right. So, I've tried and failed in various ways this year to seek out a place where I can think, remember me--reflect on new miracles that happen in my new challenging life of children. I am trying again. I'm trying to create a place where I can remember that I am still here, and where I can still be Mama, reflecting on my children and where I can be still and remember what the Lord's hand looks like when he touches my life. I hope this is the place.