Being Filled

As I lounge here in my nice COOL home, I have been thinking of how thankful I am of this past week.  It started out a little off...AC died and repair meant ordering in a new part , children particularly tiresome due to heat, and money being tight at the end of a pay check.  BUT- I have been putting reading the scriptures and saying meaningful prayers to the test.  Life hasn't gotten easier, but I have been more able to handle it.  It has been like a little reservoir inside me has been filled, so it took just a bit longer before I was all drained out.  I was more in tune with blessings-the weather has been overcast and cooler (high 80s instead of 90s) which has made living in our home without AC so much more bearable.  All of the wearisome appointments gave us an opportunity to get out of the house at the hottest points in the day.  I have been repeatedly blessed in many ways and would normally have missed them.  I had just a little more patience (I'm no paragon, so any little bit keeps me on the good side of the law) and a little more ummph to help me get through the day.  For that, I am thankful.  

I think I can get used to feeling filled.

Long Time...No Post

I have never been very good at journaling.  Not 20 years ago, not a year ago, not now.  However, having been recently called as the YW pres and having a strong belief that if I ask the girls to do something, I should be willing to do it too...I have decided to push through my lack of ambition and journal.  I find I am even worse (gasp) at writing things down on paper than I am typing, so here is where I'll spill my guts.  

I stopped writing due to overwhelming personal negativity.  I have been too stressed to feel perky, funny, clever in any arena in my life, so the blog was one of the first things to go.  Don't expect this blog to be fab.  If you want fabbity-fab cleverness, check out Whit's blog.  If you want stunning pictures of darling children, check out Steph's blog.  If you want to know the inner craziness of my mind...well, don't say I never warned you...keep reading.

Liberty, negative?!  Uh, I know you're not surprised.  Despite being a glass full kinda gal toward the rest of the world, my view of myself and my capabilities are on the "glass is dry as a bone" level.  It is one of my own exhibits of anxiety, but it slowly starts to erode my ability to fulfill even my lowest potential.  I have found when that begins to happen, our loving Heavenly Father steps in and hands me a job to do.  The kind of job that requires my blinders to be shed and my mind and activities turned to others.  Hmmm, maybe one of these days I'll learn my lesson.  I am excited and terrified of my new calling.  Thank heavens the Lord never expected me to tackle it on my own.  

Other issues on my mind are my darling children.  I love my beasties and I am so, so very thankful I have the opportunity to be a mother.  BUT, I am so overwhelmed right now.  My older boys are dealing with anxiety (thankfully manageable with their medication) and ADHD.  We haven't decided to medicate for it yet, but sometimes I don't know if I can handle them un-medicated.  Gunnison is well, Gunnison.  As his adoring auntie labeled him, he's one "loose cannon".  He is the sweetest, most loving, exasperating child.  He is one big warrior spirit in one tiny, wiggly body.  I throw my hands up on him.  I need to help guide him, but I don't know how.  He is not my older boys.  He is his very own person and I'm not sure how to move around his stubbornness.  He will pray when he chooses to pray.  If forced to say his nighttime prayers, he will resort to demon-voice praying, coughing after each word, or simply pretending to be asleep (with snores and snuffling sound affects).  He is so funny and so...stressing.  

And then there's Emmeline.  My beautiful, beautiful Emme.  Oh, how I love her.  She is such a special part in our family.  She is our last.  She is our sweet daughter.  After noticing a different-ness to her, something not quite right on age, regression, our doctor had her seen by a developmental pediatrician.  Emmeline has been diagnosed with PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise specified), a disorder on the autism spectrum.  My heart hurts, but it is alright.  Emmeline is still beautiful Emmeline.  She is still the same spirit in the same little body.  I ache with both tears and smiles.  Things that make her unique also make her different.  She adores Dora; she hates loud noises.  Her words are only phrases she has learned; she knows all her abc's and has a large repretoire of songs she sings.  She loves her babies; you have to work hard for her love.  She has meltdowns with change; she has a special animal growl (ok, it does sound a little like a dying animal) that means "tickle me".  She is wonderful and a wonderfully large challenge.  I am up to the task, but I am scared.  Scared of all the what-ifs.  I am struggling with parenting my children.  I am floundering all of the time.  Daily living seems to be kicking my tail.  I had grandiose plans of preparing my children for their missions...I am working on keeping them alive and sane.  

Okay, I know the Lord is here for me.  I know if I am struggling, then I have been the one to draw away from the Lord, not the other way around.  Things will get better, they always do.  I have shoulders to cry on, hands to hold, and angels to bear me up.  My burden is light.  I am thankful for the burdens I have.  I know I can handle the ones I have, and I am lucky.

Glee, Frogs and Chickens

Did anyone out there know I love music? I mean I ADORE music. I love how it makes me feel happy, in love, upbeat, spiritual...I love it all. (Ok, I do not appreciate the goodness of angry rap. Nope. Not at all) I belt out songs in the car when I'm all alone and with the radio up so loud I cannot hear my voice and I know, I know I am singing amazingly. I am AWESOME, a supa-star. Then, the song stops a beat quicker than I do (dang I need to watch my tempo) and I hear the sounds emitting from my mouth and I think "ko-kee", the sound the frogs native to Puerto Rico make (thank you, Diego, for that little piece of knowledge). Yes, I do believe I sound like a frog. So, I sing like a frog. Ok. No one needs to know that. It is between me and the empty van. Then, I get a phone call and I am told the Primary is moving me from teaching the sunbeams to being the Primary Chorister. What!? I believe I laughed in their faces (accepted the call, but still kind of poke my finger and laugh at them in an I-told-you-so kind of way). I can't sing! And I can't lead!! Seriously, you wouldn't think it is that hard and it isn't. When you wave your arm up and down like the little sunbeams. At least, that is how I've been leading the singing since I realized I look like a chicken wildly off beat as I try to keep the room full of beasties interested, learning and loving a song. But, I love it. I truly, truly love this calling. The children don't care if my voice squeaks or I can't hit the high notes (or really the low ones, either). They don't care if I lead them with one-two, one-two. They love music as much as I do and I get to share that love with them. It is amazing.

So, in honor of the love of singing:

Missing the South

Happy Fat Tuesday, ya'll! I am missing the deep Southern culture this time of year. The yummy stickiness of King Cake, the spice of boiled peanuts and the fabulous parades throwing beads, stuffed animals and moon pies into the waiting arms of my cheering children. Ahhh, Mardi Gras, how we miss you. I did purchase a King Cake this year, but had to find one at a specialty grocer. ...sigh... and when your children reminisce about how they miss their Mardi Gras school break, you know we're missing Alabama.

So a little feel of the Soul of the South from a band with our {{Albama}} love goin' on...

The Old Saying...

Ya'll know the old adage your parents parroted to you as a youth? It goes something like this..."if your ______ told you to jump off a _____ would you do it?" The correct answer here is "No! Of course not!". Hmmm...if your name happens to be Gavin and we filled in the blanks with "older brother" and "2nd story bedroom window sill" the answer would be "Yes, I would and did. Ninjas can jump that far." *sigh* His poor guardian angels work over-time keeping that kid out of the ER.

Reality Vs. Imagination

And the dead shall rise...no, not a zombie apocalypse, just something worthy of resurrecting my dead blog. What is worthy of such feat? Imagination. Yep, boys and girls, I have found the secret to a happy existence. Imagination. The secret of life is learned from a little child. My beasties have a LARGE repertoire of imaginary scenarios to choose from. The idea occurred to me last night as I was tucking my youngest son into bed. He insisted on wearing a black cloth around the lower half of his face due to the fact he was the "lightning ninja" and ninjas wear black masks. After explaining he might just suffocate during the night and there could be nothing more un-ninja like than that, he settled for clutching it in his hand with the promise of wearing it in the morning. Why would this inspire me? Well, what I haven't explained is he also didn't want to go to bed until he realized ninjas sleep is also like training...you need energy and ninjas can sleep anywhere, anytime (ok, there might have been a little brain washing from me on that one). He decided bed wasn't such a bad idea. Hmmm...maybe we're onto something here. Yep, this morning the wheels were turning and I thought I'd try a little of the imagination thing for myself. And let me tell you, it is AMAZING! See for yourself.

Scenario: I am lounging in my bed.

Imagination: I am lounging in my bed against soft and fluffy pillows dressed in a lovely grass green peignoir. My hair is naturally, of course, cascading softly over my shoulders in large curls and I am darlingly fresh-faced after a rewarding night of beauty sleep. I am relaxing to the sounds of my children laughing and playing downstairs, while I read an enlightening book and munching on calorie-free bonbons (uh, lets make it red-velvet cherries from Albanees, yum).

Reality: (brace yourself) I am lounging in my bed against soft and limp pillows-probably due to the fact they are not much more than dust mite fodder. My hair is a relative rat's nest, yesterday's curls are not handling beauty sleep becomingly. I am not wearing a beautiful peignoir...I am wearing an old tee of Kit's and exercise pants-hmmm, smelling slightly stale...could be due to the fact I have worn them to bed a couple of nights already this week or maybe because my sheets need to be washed. Could be. I know I have dragon breath and the darling sparkles in the air are caused by dust fluttering down from the blades of my fan as it spins. My children are playing together downstairs, but the laughter is starting to get that shrill edge to it, a sure indication of intervention needed soon. No enlightening book, just me clicking away on the laptop, And no red-velvet cherries. Sigh...probably a good thing since they are not calorie free and I would be stuffing them down my throat as fast as my greedy hands can scoop them up. I am chewing on a broken nail, though.

See, imagination is so much better than the reality! The images make me smile...

You may think my reasoning silly, but when I'm smiling sweetly as I separate laundry (Imagination: I'm Cinderella {a beautiful dark-haired version} sweetly going about my chores my wicked step-mother created for me) and you are begrudgingly doing yours, you might just buy into my secret of happiness.

'Tis the Season

And for some reason I am not feeling jolly. Could it be my shoes are too tight? I don't know, but I've been less than into Christmas this season. I started my shopping/budgeting late this year and I HATE trying to figure out money and gifts. Ugggh...if only I had an endless budget to give the best gifts EVER. I know I'd be an amazing gifter. It is my favorite thing to do!! Sigh...Behind and feeling stressed is not how I wanted my season to go. I had grandiose ideas of the things we'd do and experience and I truly haven't accomplished anything much. Blahhh!

BUT, the true reason for the Christmas Season has been smacking me upside the head quite often. It probably started out with Josiah coming to me and asking the "truth". I believe in coming clean, but also reminding him what Santa is all about. And, Josiah had no problem catching on. In fact, he has been teaching me the lessons. He has been so excited in sharing the joy of Christmas with his brothers. He helps out with Jean Luc (our special Cajun Elf on the Shelf) and gleams with joy when his brothers giggle when they see the funny places our elf hides. He has hemmed and hawed over his Christmas list since he knows when funding for gifts comes from. I have had to remind him to still write a list, Christmas miracles happen. He has come home with treats and ideas from school to share and help his brothers get all excited. And then, he even offered his money. I was looking online making lists for the boys when he noticed what I was doing. He remembered Gavin has asked for a DS this year. He knows they cost a lot and so the next thing I see is him coming towards me with his birthday money in hand. Being the sweet brother he is, he offered it up to help us afford Gav's DS. I told him not to worry about it, but he persisted and finally explained he wanted Gavin to have the best gift and wanted to help out. So willing to give. So willing to love. Thank you Josiah for a sweet lesson on selfless giving.