Let it go

I am a hover-er. Some have called me over-protective. I don't know if there's such a thing as over protective, but either way, I am often the one parent on the playground or play place who is standing annoyingly close to her child, arms out like I am spotting a gymnast or cheerleader during a risky stunt - only it's my child and she's stepping over a 6" tall foam stethoscope. (Yes...a foam stethoscope...one of the "obstacles" to climb on at our mall's play place. And no, the rest of the place isn't doctor-themed. Am I the only one who thinks this is a little strange?)

I distinctly remember one instance from my youth. I was probably 14 or 15, which meant my younger brother Eli must have been about 7 or 8. My family was up visiting a "secret spot" of ours up at Mt. Baker. It is a beautiful rocky area, with a river running through it. Over this river (I am now thinking that it is probably just a large stream, but it was a river in my youthful perspective), are many nature-made bridges of sticks and logs, varying in width and sturdiness. Eli, being the adventurous and daring little guy that he was, decided to make his way across one of these, consciously or subconsciously choosing one of very little width, covered with a thick slimy blanket of moss.

At this point in the story, you may think that something tragic or even just a little bit scary happened that day, but it did not. I remember it so vividly because I nervously watched every little shuffle he took over that stick to get to the other side. He was careless and free. I was terrified. Equally mortifying to me were my parents, who sat back and let this accident waiting to happen take place. Smiling, even. I thought they were crazy. I questioned my dad - accusing him of willingly allowing Eli into a situation that could result in a broken leg or worse. My dad's words: "Relax, he is just fine." And he was.

I don't know why these situations are so hard for me. I have never been seriously injured - never even broken a major bone. I am thinking that it is just a lesson that I need to learn. With most situations in my life, the advice that Jason or other loved ones almost always offer me is: "Relax. Let it go." Does this tell you a little something about my personality?

I am slowly learning to back off just a little bit and let my children figure things out on their own. I am working on this because it is something that I want to do and feel is necessary. My children know they are loved and adored. They are well cared-for. I don't want to hinder their growth in any aspect because I am standing in front of them, intervening constantly. I want them to be confident little girls and eventually young women that know and trust themselves to make good decisions.

Just yesterday, I did something surprisingly difficult for me - I sent Reagan to a friend's for the first time in her almost three-year-old life, without me. It was uncomfortable. I spend so much time with Reagan and Ember, just us, that it felt as though I was leaving a really important body part behind when I dropped her off and drove slowly away, eyes fixed at her curly little head in the rear view mirror, praying that she would be fine and feeling the hot sting of tears well up in my eyelids, blurring my vision. She - of course - was more than okay. She is an extremely well-rounded and well-adjusted little girl, and I need to give her credit for that. Me? Well, I could probably learn a thing or two from her about that. I absolutely knew that she would be just fine, but I also knew that this meant she was growing up - something that maybe I subconsciously have been trying to avoid this whole time.

There is a balance - a happy medium in "letting go" that I have not yet found or grown comfortable with. In physical matters - on the playground, for example, I feel as though I can let up a bit. They are still my babies, but they are not babies - or at least they are becoming slowly less so. A scraped knee here and there is not going to hurt them in the long run.

What about in other matters? What are the repercussions of being a hover-er in emotional and spiritual matters? Again, I believe there is a happy medium. Although I will never give up on protecting my children from harm (and shouldn't), I have a feeling that I am going to need to remind myself often that making decisions for them will not benefit them. There is a growing process that needs to take place. I know that often I, when faced with difficult decisions, want someone (my husband, my parents, those I trust) to make them for me. But it is not until I make a decision on my own and feel confident in it, that I grow and progress. This is a lesson I am slowly learning.

Perhaps I am afraid of not being needed anymore. That is probably legitimately accurate. It is not easy for me to watch my children grow up and learn how to do things on their own. The day I stopped nursing Reagan was a very emotional time for me. I had stopped providing nourishment long before, but I was holding on to a relationship that had yet been tainted by the outside world. In those tender moments, I was her whole world, and I reveled in that. Weaning meant allowing others into her "circle of trust." I am having an equally difficult time with Ember.

Perhaps I am also fearful of not being in control. I like planning and being in control of every situation to avoid possible literal and figurative bumps and bruises, but I realize that I cannot live my life that way. In a recent episode of "Super Nanny" (shameless plug for an excellent show), Nanny Jo has a mother hold a dozen eggs in her hands and tells her to drop them onto their recently-mopped tile floor. She was struggling with some of the same issues of "letting go" that I am, and it was an exercise that, although seemingly simple, was excruciatingly difficult and painful for her to do. Not just because of the mess it would make, but because it meant her allowing mistakes to be made, pain to be had, and "messes" to be made.

Even more eye-opening than the mother eventually dropping the eggs (can you imagine doing that? Jason just laughed when I told him that I really do not think I could do that), was her daughter's reaction to it. As it was about the happen, the daughter screamed, plugged her ears, and with tears in her eyes exclaimed, "Don't do it!" She had been so accustomed to everything working out - no mishaps happening - that it was traumatic for her to think about her mom following through with a silly exercise like dropping eggs. I identified with this situation more than I would have liked to.

I have a sincere desire to teach my children that messes can be cleaned up, bruises can be healed, and broken hearts can be mended. I, of course, will protect them, but when accidents happen, there is growth in healing. I think it's so beautiful that I am able to learn these lessons alongside them. Because I have not mastered it yet does not mean I am not qualified to teach it to my children. I am grateful for that and I am learning to "let it go."

PROM

This is serious stuff, you guys.

"It's like the Olympics of High School."

"Graduation's for the parents. Prom's really just for us."

"It's not about a dance. It's about who you are...and who you're going to be."

These quotes are from a trailer I just saw on TV. A ridiculous new Disney movie called - you guessed it - "Prom." Way to get creative there, Disney. Totally out of the box. Seriously, new Disney? I bet old Disney is so disappointed in you.

Prom makes me laugh - just the idea of it. Having been a teenager once, I can't speak too harshly of it because I am sure at one point it was semi-important to me. Even the awkward "where do I put my arm" prom pictures have a special, albeit very tiny, place in my heart. In fact, a couple of my favorite prom dresses are still hung up in my parent's closet, which I am sure they appreciate, since they take up a quarter of their closet. Sorry, Mom and Dad.

One time, when I was a Sophomore and therefore wasn't officially "invited" to prom (so exclusive), a boy I was "dating" (aka passing notes to in the hall between classes) was asked to prom by an older girl I played soccer with. So scandalous! I must admit, my tender and overly-emotional 16-year-old heart was broken and extremely jealous.

However, lo and behold, a nice young man ended up asking me, and I consented. The week before Prom weekend, I hurt my foot pretty badly in a soccer game, and was on crutches.

Things I remember about that night:

I wore a white sequined dress which consisted of a corset with sleeves sewn onto it and a long skirt. I remember feeling kind of funny because another girl there had what I am pretty certain was the same exact dress, although her entire midriff was showing. I actually think that was the way the dress was supposed to be, but I had no idea. I remember thinking it fit me a little funny, but being the very-short torso-ed person that I am, I hadn't noticed what the dress was "supposed" to look like until that moment. It's probably a good thing.

There were bowls of goldfish on each table, for decoration. By the end of the night, most of these goldfish had met their fate either in the bowl, on the dance floor, or in the stomachs of teenage boys desperate to "show off" their mad goldfish-eating skills? to their dates. Not sure how impressive this was, but I digress. Don't tell PETA.

I was determined to not be using crutches by that night, thanks to a little friend we call Valium. Yes...Valium. Don't worry, it was prescribed by the doctor for my foot injury, but still...I guess I got the full "typical" prom experience, as I definitely was more than a little delirious the whole time. I just remember being really, really happy and sleepy. But no foot pain. Ha!

And that's pretty much all I can remember...can you blame me? I was not necessarily "myself."

Jason's prom story makes me laugh even more. He asked Girl #1 to prom. She had already been asked by someone via note (will you go to prom with me? Check yes or no.) This boy was out of town, so she had to wait until he was back in town to decline his offer and accept Jason's. Who can blame her? He's pretty smooth.

In comes Girl #2, ready to pounce (laaadddies man!). She asks him to prom. Like any high school boy that isn't aware of the serious ramifications of telling a girl "maybe," he told her he had to wait to hear from Girl #1 if they are going, but if not, "sure!" What a dilemma.

Meanwhile, Girl #2 gets anxious and two days later buys a wedding dress. And has it altered! Yes, as in a big, poofy, white, purchased from a bridal shop, wedding dress. Because, you know, if you're not sure whether or not you're going to prom, your best bet would be to buy a wedding dress just in case. Just to seal the deal. Right? Fairly logical. In her defense, Jason probably could have been more clear whether or not he could go with her, but a guy's gotta keep his options open, right?

Around this same time, Jason remembers going to Girl #2's (where he had never been before), and seeing a picture of himself clipped out of a newspaper tacked to her wall. Can you say creepy? Wedding dress + clipped-out newspaper picture on her wall = just plain creepy. There's just no getting around that. Well, really creepy or really flattering, I guess. If you're into that sort of thing.

Girl #1 ends up telling him she can go after all, and so Jason has to break it to Girl #2 that he's not going to be able to go with her, thinking it's not a big deal. Girl #2 goes berserk and chews him out on the phone for over an hour. She drops the wedding dress news, including price paid for it...bad move. My favorite part? She tells him that he just needs to follow his heart. Sounds straight out of a bad Disney movie called "Prom." Jason now realizes what he got himself into, and the newspaper clipping starts to make sense. A little bit flattering, a lotta bit creepy. It puts the lotion on its skin, anyone?

Jason makes it to prom with girl #1, but girl #2 is there, shooting him daggers all night. Girl #1 isn't feeling well and goes home early. Girl #2 (there by herself?) asks for a ride home. One of Jason's guy friends ends up having to leave early, so Jason has to take his date home, and turn down Girl #2's offer yet again. Jason learns his lesson and makes sure to lock his door that night.

I love prom stories. Although, I can't help but feel really bad for Girl #2. Maybe she wasn't so creepy after all. Maybe she just really liked him. I guess it's my motherly instincts, but I would hope that my girls wouldn't have their hearts broken like that. However, my girls will not be buying wedding dresses for their proms. That is kind of asking for it.

J

Since we have gone private, I don't think I have too many "readers" of this blog anymore. This is fine by me, since I really do just write here as a way to record my thoughts and feelings on my life and motherhood, etc. And I know that family near and far like to read updates and see pictures, mostly of the girls. I try hard not to sound too "braggadocios" (that is how spell check told me to spell it - it doesn't look right) on this blog because really, that's no fun for other people to read. We all love our husbands the most. They are all the best husbands in the world. Our kids are all geniuses and the most adorable babies that ever existed. We all make super awesome crafts and have adorably-decorated houses. We're all trim and stylish too, all while balancing a church calling, being the perfect mother and wife, and keeping a spotless house...right??! That being said, this is my blog. Jason, my number one, the love of my life, and my partner-in-crime (as we may occasionally go a few mph over the speed limit) doesn't make an appearance as often as he should. For those wondering, this is not because we don't love him - okay, Jason? This is not because we don't love you! You know we do. =) Right now, we are embarking on a "new chapter," if you will, in this little life of ours. Jason just about a month away from graduating. I can't believe I am even typing that. In our marriage thus far, a very HUGE part of our lives, almost like a third child (that's weird), has been school. We just kept pushing forward, knowing that "Just (such and such amount of time), and we'll be done." As Ember's due date approached (over a year ago...still can't believe that!), I got really nervous because Jason was on a break between quarters and school was starting up again right away. I struggled with a lot of feelings of self-doubt, as he was going to be immersed in school again immediately and I would have a new baby and a not-even-two-year-old to care for. We opted for an induction so that we could spend a couple days "transitioning" into this new life of ours before Jason started school up again. I was really nervous about being able to do it all. Lots of people I know had done it and had done just fine, but we all know those all-too-familiar feelings of inadequacy that one often experiences before a big life change. Sissy was born. Two days later, Jason started his last year of school. I remember thinking that another year seemed so far away. I still had a newborn - a whole year seemed like an eternity. Despite all of the changes and challenges that new life brings, life still managed to be very sweet. Sure, I had my fair share of "Am I really this stressed/mean/crazy, or is it just my hormones?" moments, I will admit. But, I never once felt like Jason wasn't "present" or that I didn't have his help. Looking back, I kind of still don't know how it all seemed to work out. At one point, he was taking 26 credits at two schools and working 60+ hours at night a week, but I never once felt like I was being put on the back burner or not at the very tip-top of his priority list. And I know the girls, if they could express that sentiment, would agree with me. It's been challenging for me - I'm just going to say it. Not harder than anyone else's life, but it has not been easy for me. It was never in our "initial plans" (does anyone follow those anyways?) that we would have two children before Jason finished school, but I absolutely would not have it any other way than the way we have gotten to partake of Heavenly Father's plans for our family. These times have been so sweet, and I have grown in ways that I never would have been able to any other way. Growing comes with growing pains, but I am so much stronger and more independent than I ever was (that being said, I will NEVER get used to going to bed, my myself, night after night, no matter how long it's been!) We were more than blessed with very easy-going children too (oops, bragging again - don't worry, yours are probably more easy-going) that have made this particular time in our lives one that I know we will look back on with tender feelings and fond memories. I am so unbelievably grateful for the sacrifices that Jason has made on behalf of our family. I can't even type this without tears of complete gratitude for him filling my eyes. In these past few years, I have seen him become the sweetest, most loving father, and he has continued to be the sweetheart and gentleman to me that I knew he was almost five years ago when I married him - better, in fact. He is just a good man. And, as cliche' as it sounds, one that really does treat me like a princess. The kind that I would want for my unmarried friends, my sisters, and my daughters someday. I know that his love for us is the motivation in everything that he does. That all being said - I AM SO RELIEVED AND READY FOR HIM TO BE DONE! (At least for a little while.) I know that with a new career, life is not going to just suddenly "let up". There are always ups and downs in life - and really, as hard as they are sometimes, thank goodness for those downs. They only help to make me stronger. We all know I can use all the help I can get. =) Mostly, I am just excited to have him home at night again! I am excited to have to make both sides of the bed, and not just the side that I sleep in alone, 6 nights a week! I am kind of nervous that my emotions will get the better of me at his graduation and that I will stand up and scream "Hallelujah" at the top of my lungs, all while doing a really awesome happy dance. If it happens - sorry Jason, I really just can't help it. This is as much a triumphant moment in my life as it is in yours. I have missed you - I am excited to have you back! I do not know where we are going to live or where life will take us in the next few months, but I am grateful that I get to experience this change alongside my truly wonderful husband (barf - mushy, I know) and sweet little girls. I am uncertain, sure. But not scared. I know that as long as I have them, everything will be fine.

Compliment

Reagan is a very sweet girl, and always full of compliments if she's in a good mood. She will grab your face, get really close and say, in a syrupy-sweet voice:

"You're the best!"

"You're so beauty-ull."

"I love you, mama."

"You're my best friend."

All of these things melt my heart, no matter how many times she says them to me, or what she's trying to butter me up for. Well, nothing beats the compliment she gave me today. As usual, she puts both her hands gently on my cheeks, leans in close, and whispers:

"Mama, I love your skin. It's so...dry."

Um, excuse me?!

I made a point to go look in the mirror to see if her accusation/compliment had any truth to it. I am proud to say it did not. I am left to think that she thought this really was a nice thing to say.

A rant?

I recently stumbled upon a blog post that really spoke to me. I don't remember how I came across it, and for the life of me I cannot find it again. If I do, I will most definitely be sharing the link, because it is something that I think every parent should read.

It was basically a letter from a mother to her children, telling them that she doesn't want them to be "happy." Now, before you re-read that last sentence with a puzzled look on your face and perhaps even a furrow in your brow, stay with me. Happiness, she explained, is easily obtained and fleeting by nature. Happiness is a wonderful feeling - but it is not what this life is about. She goes on to explain that it is not her job as a parent to make her kids happy. In fact, much of our day as parents is spent wiping tears that, in essence, we cause. Nap times, veggie-eating, no-we- can't-buy-that-toy, big, fat, crocodile tears. Now, not every situation warrants tears and some children (and ages) seem to cope a bit easier than others. But, the point is, that our purpose is to teach and instill values in our children that are becoming less black-and-white by the world's standards and much more of a fuzzy gray.

We teach our children because we love them. Unfortunately, this notion is considered by the masses to be old-fashioned and unnecessary. We live amongst a society in which many young people (and some old people) feel entitled to a certain amount of happiness that the world and life owes to them just for existing. I know that I do not stand alone when I say that it is often tempting to take the easy route and just make my kids "happy." Some days I indulge that temptation much too regularly (Okay, you don't have to take a nap. Oh, those veggies? I guess you don't have to eat them. Sure, you can have that toy) and then pay for it days, even weeks after, by re-visiting the incorrect behavior that I enforced earlier because I was apparently too exhausted to do what I knew was right.

At least I hope I am not alone. I know I am a good mother, but as I lay in bed each night, I often think back on the events of the day and make mental notes of what I could have done differently - and will do differently the next go-around. Naturally, some days are better than others. Most days, I make so many mistakes that I lose count. But, that is the beauty of each new day. I love having opportunities to redeem myself and cannot deny the very present existence of a loving Heavenly Father who wants to help guide me and give me direction when I ask. He helps me with even my most simple pleas, because they are important to me. I love Him.

Fast forward to last night. I sat on the couch, laundry folded in neat piles in front of me, enjoying my night-time snack of Greek yogurt and honey as I watched my favorite show on television right now, Parenthood. Although I do not agree with every decision that the parents on the show make, it brings up some really interesting dialogue between Jason and I as far as what we would do when faced with similar situations that the show dramatizes.

In last night's episode, Kristina and Adam, parents to a young boy with Asperger's Syndrome and a 16-year-old girl, find out that their teenage daughter is having sex with her 19 year old boyfriend. (Side note - although it is about a family, this show is NOT one that I would recommend kids or teenagers watching - due purely to the mature subject matter that is brought up, such as this.) They decide to confront her about it, and she initially denies the allegations, to which her mom replies "Well, I want you to know that if you are, you can talk to me about it." Later, the girl, Haddie, ends up confessing to her mother that she has, in fact, slept with her boyfriend. Shocked, her mother asks her if she's been using protection, and then asks her if she is happy. I realize this is a TV show, but that is the extent of their conversation. Obviously, this is one situation where I absolutely do not agree with the parents' reaction.

Like I said, this show does spark some interesting conversations and thoughts, and there are often "discussions" on Facebook that I can see because I "like" the Parenthood page. Today, the question was asked whether or not the viewers of this show agree or disagree with Adam and Kristina's reaction upon finding out their very young teenage daughter was sleeping with her boyfriend. Curious because of my strong opinions on the matter, I scrolled through some of the comments. I was absolutely floored and overwhelmed by what I was seeing. Among the answers were comments like "teenagers are going to do it anyway," "at least she is happy and in love," "parents would be ignorant to expect their 16 year old not to be having sex," "as long as they are using protection, it is just fine." I probably only read a handful of comments that disagreed with the parents' reaction, but even those were disappointing at best. Is this the way children are being raised? Needless to say, it got my blood boiling a bit. I could not believe that the only concerns to most of these people were pregnancy and STDs and nothing else. Especially infuriating were the comments that said "at least she is happy" or "her parents just want her to be happy."

I am terribly afraid that the notion that parents' only existence is to make their children happy is the norm. I don't know what else to say except that it is not. A parent's job is to love their children unconditionally, but to protect them from physical, emotional, and spiritual harm, and enrich their lives and empower them by teaching them how to make decisions that they are not yet mature enough to know how to make on their own just yet. As much as I love it when Reagan tells me that I am her best friend (and I should be - she is 2), I know that this is not my sole purpose. It is going to be so hard. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't terrified of being faced with situations even remotely similar to this one. Teaching and nurturing - parenting - is not for the faint of heart.

My most difficult days right now consist of tantrums over what toy belongs to whom and lack of sleep. I know these days will be greatly overshadowed by my hard days in even a few short years. There is so much confusion and darkness in the world we live in that threatens the self-worth of my beautiful, precious, innocent daughters. I am scared, but I am up to the challenge. It is my job, and I cannot and will not shirk my responsibilities. It is because I love my children that I will endure the tears over fleeting happiness. I will teach them that joy - true joy - can only be found in doing what's right.

It is times like this that I am so grateful that I do not have to navigate this whole being-a-mom-thing on my own. I am so grateful for my church that not only encourages me, but gives me direction and comfort knowing that raising righteous children can be done, if centered around Christ. I am grateful for a living Prophet, whose words are truly divinely inspired. I am continually and unbelievably grateful for my parents, whose consistent and early example has truly paved the way for the life that I am trying to lead, and how I am raising my children. Some of my earliest memories of my parents are watching them read their scriptures or kneel quietly in prayer by their bedside. I now know that most of those prayers were probably being said in behalf of me and my siblings. I am also so, so grateful to Jason for being up to the challenge with me. I know that I absolutely could not do it without his love and support. Right now, I am grateful that my biggest problem is that it's midnight and my baby is currently crying from the comfort of her crib. See? I really don't want her to be happy. =) Off to go feed her and enjoy her a little bit before she's big.

Perfect Saturday

We live in an absolutely beautiful place. If we ever have to leave, I will be sad to leave the chilly but gorgeous forest-meets-beach. Since we have moved here, it is Jason's favorite place to go. I never really realized how beautiful it was here growing up. I guess it takes an outsider's perspective to help you recognize the unique beauty of the pacific northwest. I think any place is beautiful though, as long as it is a backdrop to my sweet family.

Sissy Goo turns 1

The Party

The Birth

(Some of these pictures are a little trippy to me, because Ember looks so much like Reagan did then.)

Ember's first birthday totally snuck up on me this year. Despite a busy weekend and lack of much time to plan, we still managed to celebrate accordingly last Sunday on her actual birthday. If subsequent children's birthday parties keep following suit, by the 9th or 10th child, I'll probably just throw a cupcake to them in the back seat of the car and call it good. Just kidding, we are not having 10 kids. I still might throw a cupcake at them though, just because it sounds kind of fun. Ember (we'll call her Sissy, I never call her Ember) is just the sweetest little baby I could have ever asked for. She and Reagan could not be more different, but they each play such a dynamic role in the way that our family "is." Sissy is such a quiet and sensitive little girl, and she makes me feel so loved. If there is one word that embodies what this girl is all about, it is "love." Love and tenderness just permeate from her. She looks at me and I melt. She is an observer and a deep thinker. Now, her deep thinking may be about food, but when she looks at or watches something, you can almost see the wheels turning in her round little bulb-head. Yes, she inherited the big ol' Pratt forehead, and I just love it (although, it almost certainly means a lifetime of the age-old question and one that I have struggled with myself, "bangs or no bangs?") She looks so much like my dad to me, only a much prettier version - no offense, dad, you're still pretty. She's got the squinty Pratt eyes to go along with it. My most favorite thing about my Sissy Goo is that she is such a good cuddler. Reagan stopped wanting to cuddle with me much when she became mobile (although she wants to now, which I like), but Ember gives me hugs and kisses about every five minutes, complete with her own sound effects - "aaaaaaw." This also means that she MUST be in the same room as me at all times, which has its own problems, but we won't get into that. =) I love her so much - she is the kind of child that really makes me realize on a day-to-day basis why I have kids and why I want more. I look at her and there is no doubt that this beautiful little girl came to me for a reason. She has helped me to learn to slow down, and reminds me constantly how much Heavenly Father must love me. I am so grateful for this little soul in our home. We all love her so much - I love that she needs me and thinks that I am just about the greatest thing that ever existed. Jason loves that she will grab his face and give him kisses and cuddles. Reagan loves having a little friend that just adores her and laughs at everything she does. She came into this world peacefully and continues to create a safe, peaceful feeling in our home. Happy Birthday, Sis.