This quote (or big chunk of an article, really) was one of my favorites from the December Ensign. From the talk Fear Not.
"Sometimes [we] are confronted with a problem that seems like Mount Everest. [We] believe it is just too high and too tough to climb. Because [we] see no solution, [we] become discouraged—perhaps even negative and pessimistic—about [our] futures. But...[we] can learn that however unsolvable the problems of life may seem, God always has a solution."
"Because of the Savior’s birth, life, and Atonement, there are no unsolvable problems. There are temporary tragedies and difficulties, of course, but they need not be permanent or unconquerable. Can you imagine anyone having a problem God cannot solve? He always has a solution that will advance our eternal progress. That is both the reason for and essence of the Atonement."
And lastly:
"There is no question about the Atonement’s capacity to provide solutions for our problems. The scriptures are abundantly clear on this point. The real issues are these: Will we embrace those solutions? Will we choose the world’s answer or God’s answer? Will we repent or rationalize, seek God’s grace to overcome our weaknesses or “go it alone,” acknowledge God’s love in times of tragedy or spurn Him at every downturn in life?"
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Lavender House
As a military brat, my time at home was divided up into 2- or 3-year increments. Here is a complete list of the places we lived, just for kicks--
Tacoma, Washington (born there)
Fort Bragg, North Carolina (one side of post)
Panama
New Jersey
Fort Bragg, North Carolina (the other side of post)
Colorado Springs, Colorado (off-post)
Heidelberg, Germany
S.H.A.P.E., Belgium
Fort Stewart/Hinesville, Georgia
{got married to Phill, and then}:
Fort Carson, Colorado
Cedar City, Utah
Provo, Utah
Cedar City, Utah
St. George, Utah
...and in between those big moves, there were smaller ones. For instance, we moved twice in Panama, from one side to the other. And when Phill and I lived in Colorado, we moved four times--twice off-base, and twice on-base. Not to mention the three different places we lived in Cedar City.
There was definitely enough to keep us seven kids interested and on our toes. Sometimes I find myself getting antsy after a year or so, I'm so used to a change of scene every couple of years.
But some of the most fun we had was when we were in even more-temporary living spaces. One of those was a little lavender house in North Carolina, which we were in for just a few weeks (I think) before we moved on base. I was seven years old.
The house had a fireplace that I loved (and secretly feared), and a tiny sitting room where our green loveseat was. My mom would sit on the loveseat to feed Maddie, the youngest, "our". Or my oldest sibling, my brother Reed, would sit on the couch and read to us younger girls. (photo HERE) Sometimes my oldest sister, Liz (are you keeping track? I'll quiz you later...) would sit on the loveseat and have me sit in front of her while she French-braided my hair. That room felt safe.
In my bedroom was a bunk bed that I shared with my little sister, Qait, and I slept on the top. While my dad was far away in one of those many Army fights, I had his picture taped to my ceiling, a tiny wallet-sized print of him in uniform, that I would look at as I fell asleep each night. Under my arm was a tiny camp-pillow he had given me; it smelled exactly like him. I would look at his picture and pray, many times over, for his safety, nuzzle the pillow next to my face, and fall into sleep.
In the backyard, there was a swingset, and I distinctly remember sitting on the swing, noticing my worn and too-small shoes, when my mom, looking through the kitchen window, must have noticed the same thing. I got new shoes. Not the Barbie ones I wanted, but some sensible white Keds. And so I sat on the swing again, unaware that my mother was (again) watching as I purposely dragged the toes of my brand-new shoes, desperately wanting those stupid Barbie shoes. I remember glancing up to see my mother watching me with half a smile on her face. She opened the window a crack and said with a smile, "You'll want to take care of those shoes." Enough said. She was on to me.
There was the window seat, possibly my favorite spot in the house. Above it was a bay window, and I would sit there and read, or daydream, or lift the lid of the window seat and imagine the awful fate that would befall someone who got stuck in there. (I was a little morbid.)
Outside, there was a green grass and a street-lamp, and I remember picking the fuzzed-over dandelions and running in circles on the grass, watching the little seeds of weeds-to-be taking flight.
I remember that our big, green trash can said, "Cumberland County" on it, and that for the longest time I thought it said, "Cucumberland Country".
There was one night that I couldn't sleep--at all, and I was earnestly trying--and I could hear music coming from Abby and Liz's room. Music and laughter. I knew that if they were happy and having fun together, they would probably not mind too much if I just laid on one of their beds for a bit. I knocked softly on their door, and Liz opened it. "Are you okay, Rae?" I told her my troubles and she gladly let me lay on the bottom bunk of their bed while she and Abby laughed away on the floor, as The Bangles played on and on. They picked me up off the bed so I could dance with them to Walk Like an Egyptian, and swung me around to Eternal Flame. They willingly included me in their fun and thoroughly exhausted me in the process. I slept like a baby.
Most of all, that lavender house is a safe place, a little holding-place in my mind for memories that are untouched by the incredible grief that followed only a couple of years later, when my dear brother Reed died. In the lavender house, we were all nine, all together.
When people ask me how I handled moving so often, having to adapt as much as we did, I reply that it is because my family is my home.Wherever they were, we called home. And temporary as it was, that house is permanently cemented in my heart, twenty years later.
Tacoma, Washington (born there)
Fort Bragg, North Carolina (one side of post)
Panama
New Jersey
Fort Bragg, North Carolina (the other side of post)
Colorado Springs, Colorado (off-post)
Heidelberg, Germany
S.H.A.P.E., Belgium
Fort Stewart/Hinesville, Georgia
{got married to Phill, and then}:
Fort Carson, Colorado
Cedar City, Utah
Provo, Utah
Cedar City, Utah
St. George, Utah
...and in between those big moves, there were smaller ones. For instance, we moved twice in Panama, from one side to the other. And when Phill and I lived in Colorado, we moved four times--twice off-base, and twice on-base. Not to mention the three different places we lived in Cedar City.
There was definitely enough to keep us seven kids interested and on our toes. Sometimes I find myself getting antsy after a year or so, I'm so used to a change of scene every couple of years.
But some of the most fun we had was when we were in even more-temporary living spaces. One of those was a little lavender house in North Carolina, which we were in for just a few weeks (I think) before we moved on base. I was seven years old.
The house had a fireplace that I loved (and secretly feared), and a tiny sitting room where our green loveseat was. My mom would sit on the loveseat to feed Maddie, the youngest, "our". Or my oldest sibling, my brother Reed, would sit on the couch and read to us younger girls. (photo HERE) Sometimes my oldest sister, Liz (are you keeping track? I'll quiz you later...) would sit on the loveseat and have me sit in front of her while she French-braided my hair. That room felt safe.
In my bedroom was a bunk bed that I shared with my little sister, Qait, and I slept on the top. While my dad was far away in one of those many Army fights, I had his picture taped to my ceiling, a tiny wallet-sized print of him in uniform, that I would look at as I fell asleep each night. Under my arm was a tiny camp-pillow he had given me; it smelled exactly like him. I would look at his picture and pray, many times over, for his safety, nuzzle the pillow next to my face, and fall into sleep.
In the backyard, there was a swingset, and I distinctly remember sitting on the swing, noticing my worn and too-small shoes, when my mom, looking through the kitchen window, must have noticed the same thing. I got new shoes. Not the Barbie ones I wanted, but some sensible white Keds. And so I sat on the swing again, unaware that my mother was (again) watching as I purposely dragged the toes of my brand-new shoes, desperately wanting those stupid Barbie shoes. I remember glancing up to see my mother watching me with half a smile on her face. She opened the window a crack and said with a smile, "You'll want to take care of those shoes." Enough said. She was on to me.
There was the window seat, possibly my favorite spot in the house. Above it was a bay window, and I would sit there and read, or daydream, or lift the lid of the window seat and imagine the awful fate that would befall someone who got stuck in there. (I was a little morbid.)
Outside, there was a green grass and a street-lamp, and I remember picking the fuzzed-over dandelions and running in circles on the grass, watching the little seeds of weeds-to-be taking flight.
I remember that our big, green trash can said, "Cumberland County" on it, and that for the longest time I thought it said, "Cucumberland Country".
There was one night that I couldn't sleep--at all, and I was earnestly trying--and I could hear music coming from Abby and Liz's room. Music and laughter. I knew that if they were happy and having fun together, they would probably not mind too much if I just laid on one of their beds for a bit. I knocked softly on their door, and Liz opened it. "Are you okay, Rae?" I told her my troubles and she gladly let me lay on the bottom bunk of their bed while she and Abby laughed away on the floor, as The Bangles played on and on. They picked me up off the bed so I could dance with them to Walk Like an Egyptian, and swung me around to Eternal Flame. They willingly included me in their fun and thoroughly exhausted me in the process. I slept like a baby.
Most of all, that lavender house is a safe place, a little holding-place in my mind for memories that are untouched by the incredible grief that followed only a couple of years later, when my dear brother Reed died. In the lavender house, we were all nine, all together.
When people ask me how I handled moving so often, having to adapt as much as we did, I reply that it is because my family is my home.Wherever they were, we called home. And temporary as it was, that house is permanently cemented in my heart, twenty years later.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Here's to promise!
I resist the feeling that inevitably comes to me on this day--that sort of panicked "I have to improve NOW! I have to improve greatly, this second! I have to correct every bad behavior!"
Don't misunderstand--I am all for self-improvement and quiet introspection. I just always feel that the more anxiety-inducing sides of those practices are being shoved down my throat this time of year. Urges to do everything under the sun IN THE NEW YEAR--as if this last year was total crap if we didn't do those things, and as if this next year won't matter either if we continue to be whatever it is we wish we weren't.
The darker sides of this New Year's attitude got to me recently, I'll admit, and I found myself lamenting the things I hadn't done in 2010. Lose weight. Put more pictures on the walls. Wake up at 7 and work out every day. Write more than once every three months. Blog more often. Get out of debt. The list goes on and on, and mirrors most common lists.
And then I wondered, what have I done this year? What is of note? And in this prayerful wondering of mine, I was flooded by all the little things I have done, and how they have changed me this year. Not just what I've done, either, but how our family has grown. It's unmistakable! I feel like we've turned a corner.
I don't change diapers anymore. (And I do remember a time when I never thought I'd be able to say that!)
Reed is 8, chose to be baptized (I am so proud), and a little more independent; his reading has blossomed unbelievably and his maturity is beginning to blossom, too. That makes my heart full and achy at the same time.
Jaxon knows more letters and numbers than I've taught him. He continues to improve at expressing his feelings--something that I waited for. His sense of humor has just risen off the charts, and he is a joy to be around.
And Savanna, well, she's potty-trained, and she's also very much a little girl and hardly a toddler anymore. That is strange and wonderful.
I myself have worked hard this year--and pretty intensely for a few months--to correct mistaken ideas I had, the kinds of ideas that can make a person very unhappy. Sometimes it feels like the slow progress of grinding wheat by hand, this sifting through my emotions and memories and facets of my spirit. But slowly and steadily, I have learned a few things that have been slowly reconstructing me, inside-out, and I feel closer to my Savior than I ever have. That alone is worth it to me--worth all the things I haven't yet accomplished, but continue to work on.
Eventually I'll be back into the swing of working out regularly. Eventually I will have a comfortable relationship with food and my body. Soon enough, my house will be clean most of the time. Someday I will write that book, and someday my photography business will shoot through the roof.
But for now, I'm going to continue at this same pace, still determined and still mindful of what I need to change, but in no way frenzied. Not panicked about the things I haven't done yet, because the word "yet" holds a lot of possibilities.
So if I'm going to promise anything this year, it is to to remember that word itself--promise. We have promise. We have possibilities.
Don't misunderstand--I am all for self-improvement and quiet introspection. I just always feel that the more anxiety-inducing sides of those practices are being shoved down my throat this time of year. Urges to do everything under the sun IN THE NEW YEAR--as if this last year was total crap if we didn't do those things, and as if this next year won't matter either if we continue to be whatever it is we wish we weren't.
The darker sides of this New Year's attitude got to me recently, I'll admit, and I found myself lamenting the things I hadn't done in 2010. Lose weight. Put more pictures on the walls. Wake up at 7 and work out every day. Write more than once every three months. Blog more often. Get out of debt. The list goes on and on, and mirrors most common lists.
And then I wondered, what have I done this year? What is of note? And in this prayerful wondering of mine, I was flooded by all the little things I have done, and how they have changed me this year. Not just what I've done, either, but how our family has grown. It's unmistakable! I feel like we've turned a corner.
I don't change diapers anymore. (And I do remember a time when I never thought I'd be able to say that!)
Reed is 8, chose to be baptized (I am so proud), and a little more independent; his reading has blossomed unbelievably and his maturity is beginning to blossom, too. That makes my heart full and achy at the same time.
Jaxon knows more letters and numbers than I've taught him. He continues to improve at expressing his feelings--something that I waited for. His sense of humor has just risen off the charts, and he is a joy to be around.
And Savanna, well, she's potty-trained, and she's also very much a little girl and hardly a toddler anymore. That is strange and wonderful.
I myself have worked hard this year--and pretty intensely for a few months--to correct mistaken ideas I had, the kinds of ideas that can make a person very unhappy. Sometimes it feels like the slow progress of grinding wheat by hand, this sifting through my emotions and memories and facets of my spirit. But slowly and steadily, I have learned a few things that have been slowly reconstructing me, inside-out, and I feel closer to my Savior than I ever have. That alone is worth it to me--worth all the things I haven't yet accomplished, but continue to work on.
Eventually I'll be back into the swing of working out regularly. Eventually I will have a comfortable relationship with food and my body. Soon enough, my house will be clean most of the time. Someday I will write that book, and someday my photography business will shoot through the roof.
But for now, I'm going to continue at this same pace, still determined and still mindful of what I need to change, but in no way frenzied. Not panicked about the things I haven't done yet, because the word "yet" holds a lot of possibilities.
So if I'm going to promise anything this year, it is to to remember that word itself--promise. We have promise. We have possibilities.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A Year in Quick Review
ZERO- the amount of diapers I've changed today....because yes, Savanna is POTTY-TRAINED!
ONE deployment that miraculously never happened (praise be)
TWO pets that came and went (Simon the feral cat--good riddance--and Penny the sweet boxer--we still really miss her)
THREE - the number of visits this year that I have been privileged to get with my sister, Abby, and her family (This number could be incorrect....but for the sake of this format, let's assume it's not.)
FOUR - now the number of hours (half what it used to take) to travel to my little sister, Qait
FIVE - five people in our family, and I can honestly say I'm (finally) perfectly happy with that number staying right where it is--unless I change my mind.
SIX - the number of friends or family of mine who are pregnant or just birthed a baby (this has been both beneficial and detrimental in the whole Baby Hunger department, as you can imagine)
SEVEN - the measly number of posts I've done since the beginning of October
EIGHT - the age of my oldest son. Still trying to get my head around this one.
NINE - the number of years Phill and I have been married--today! (It has been beautiful)
TEN - the number of posts I aim to do each month (I know you've seen this resolve from me before, but this time I'm following through. Call me on it.)
Friday, December 3, 2010
What Do I Do All Day? You really wanted to know?!
I'm amazed by the fact that this post idea was most requested of the four! Kind of flattering (and intimidating) that you all want to hear about my usually-mundane days. No special presentation, just a rundown of my days. Well, here goes!
Note: This schedule does not include other weekly or monthly things, like: Phill's drill weekend (where he works straight through the weekend), den meeting, pack meeting, photo shoots, doctor appointments, unexpected sickness, traveling up north or elsewhere, etc....just a cross-section of my most normal of days.
Example 1:
Up at 8:20.
8:21 Dress in workout clothes with the best of intentions.
8:25 Dress Savvy and make sure Jaxon is dressed.
8:30 Notice the time and panic, making resolutions for earlier rising tomorrow.
8:30 Make Reed's lunch while the kids eat a fast breakfast at the table.
8:40 Run around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for The Other Shoe or Two Matching Socks or That Indispensable Piece of Paper for School.
8:45 Out the door to school.
8:48 Drop Reed off and go home instead of to the gym.
9:00 Eat breakfast myself in front of the computer.
10:00 Realize I've been on the computer for waaaay too long.
10:10 Finally get up from the computer.
10:10 Realize that working out is not going to happen today; change into "real" clothes.
10:50 Put down the book I've become immersed in and tickle Jaxon's back, feed Savvy's babydoll, make a snack for them--whatever they need.
11:30 AGAIN, put down the book I've become immersed in and clean the kitchen enough that lunch won't give us a terrible disease
12:00 Lunch
12:45 Realize that I was done eating lunch fifteen minutes ago and this darn book isn't helping me get anything done.
12:50 Make a monumental effort to pull myself together, play around with the kids (usually involves impromptu chasing), do dishes, clear countertops, and clean up the living room floor. Think about dinner, draw a blank, and think about it some more. Read a story to the kids and scratch Jaxon's back again. (Can you guess his love language?)
2:30 Collapse on the couch, thoroughly spent and fresh out of motivation. Cuddle with the kids as my eyes get veeerrry drooopy.
3:15 Jerk awake to the sound of my phone alarm. Rush out the door with the kids to go pick up Reed. Sit in car, reading (yes, again) until he's done at 3:30.
3:35 Come home and make a snack for the kids. Help Reed with homework or let the kids play outside for a bit. Procrastinate making dinner, either by hanging out with Phill (since he's usually home around this time), standing around outside with the kids, allowing myself to be sucked into Facebook (happens waaaay more than it should) or photo-editing, or reading.
6:30 Realize how late it got and that I still don't have dinner on the table
6:45 Come back from Little Caesar's
7:15 Have prayer, get kids' teeth brushed
7:25 Kids in bed
7:25 Sing less songs, but still give kisses/hugs/back-scratches and at least SOME listening time, and read for 20 minutes.
7:45 Collapse into a puddle of mush on the couch, bemoaning the state of the house and counting my failures of the day, knowing full well I could have done much, much better.
8:00 Resolve to do better tomorrow.
11:30 Finally into bed.
Example 2:
Up at 8:00
8:01 Dress in workout clothes.
8:05 Have Reed shower while I help Savvy and Jaxon dress
8:20 Having already made Reed's lunch the night before, prepare a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and toast for the kids. Eat at a leisurely pace.
8:40 Out the door.
8:43 Drop off Reed and head to the gym.
10:15 Pick up the kids from the gym daycare, come home
10:20 Snack for the kids, breakfast for myself while I read my scriptures
10:30 Shower, dress, blow-dry my three pounds of hair
11:10 After making sure the kids have all they need, sit down at the computer to do writing exercises.
11:40 Finish writing exercises. Do some dishes (if necessary) and make lunch.
12:00 Lunch.
12:30 Read to the kids, then cuddle with them while I read (my own book)
1:00 Set timer and set about getting the house squared away--dishes, laundry, countertops, table, floors, etc...
2:00 Cuddle with the kids again on the couch, make them a snack or watch them draw
2:20 Edit photos
3:00 Put away some clean laundry or (again) cuddle on the couch.
3:15 Leave to get Reed from school, reading in the car while I wait
3:30 Get Reed, come home
3:35 - 4:30 Help Reed with homework OR go to den meeting OR stand outside with the kids while they play in the front for a bit OR cuddle with Phill on the couch when he gets home OR edit photos
4:30 Start dinner prep
5:00 Eat dinner
5:30 Do dinner dishes, play in the front with the kids again
6:00 Bring kids in, get them bathed and pajama'd
6:30 Watch some toons together OR dance in the living room to music (way better option)
6:50 Scriptures, prayer
6:55 Have kids brush their teeth
7:00 Kids in bed
7:00 - 7:30 or 7:45 Sing to Savvy and give her lots of hugs and kisses, sing to Jaxon and make him laugh and scratch his back, sing to Reed and listen to him talk about his day. Read our current chapter book (Right now it's The Great Brain....thanks, Abby!) to the kids while I sit on Reed's bed--Jax hardly lasts through a paragraph, and Savvy on an ideal night is out by four paragraphs. Reed, however, will listen as long as I read. :)
7:45-ish Cuddle with Phill on the couch and watch shows OR edit photos OR do some blogging OR do some Reader OR finish some cleaning OR read a good book OR go get a few things at the grocery store
10:35 Make Reed's lunch for the next day, make sure all the stuff we need for tomorrow is located.
10:45 Get ready for bed
11:00 IN bed, done for the day
It's kind of embarrassing to have laid out the goings-on of my day like this. Believe me....I'm well aware of the areas that could use improvement! I'm working on being able to say I have more Example 2 days than Example 1. It's funny to me, though, how differently my day goes when I choose to wake up on time, or work out, or read my scriptures. (Or all three!) Just like everyone else, I know the things that make my day go smoother, and yet I fall short. Often. And forget the essentials.
Another thing that's embarrassing to me is how much time I actually have. When I'm organized, that is. When I'm not buried in a book or gazing at Facebook or sleeping in. I'm not in any hurry to fill my day up with more--I know how quickly a day can become jam-packed, and I'm steeling myself for when our kids are involved in after-school activities--but I mope and moan about how hard it is to get everything done...and it is, when I'm not really on top of my game. But I'm sure it's not as hard as I make it out to be! I know so many others who are far busier and still manage to get so much done.
I suppose my point is--take comfort! Look how very human I am, and please see me through forgiveness-tinted glasses when you consider that I am certainly working on it. :)
Note: This schedule does not include other weekly or monthly things, like: Phill's drill weekend (where he works straight through the weekend), den meeting, pack meeting, photo shoots, doctor appointments, unexpected sickness, traveling up north or elsewhere, etc....just a cross-section of my most normal of days.
Example 1:
Up at 8:20.
8:21 Dress in workout clothes with the best of intentions.
8:25 Dress Savvy and make sure Jaxon is dressed.
8:30 Notice the time and panic, making resolutions for earlier rising tomorrow.
8:30 Make Reed's lunch while the kids eat a fast breakfast at the table.
8:40 Run around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for The Other Shoe or Two Matching Socks or That Indispensable Piece of Paper for School.
8:45 Out the door to school.
8:48 Drop Reed off and go home instead of to the gym.
9:00 Eat breakfast myself in front of the computer.
10:00 Realize I've been on the computer for waaaay too long.
10:10 Finally get up from the computer.
10:10 Realize that working out is not going to happen today; change into "real" clothes.
10:50 Put down the book I've become immersed in and tickle Jaxon's back, feed Savvy's babydoll, make a snack for them--whatever they need.
11:30 AGAIN, put down the book I've become immersed in and clean the kitchen enough that lunch won't give us a terrible disease
12:00 Lunch
12:45 Realize that I was done eating lunch fifteen minutes ago and this darn book isn't helping me get anything done.
12:50 Make a monumental effort to pull myself together, play around with the kids (usually involves impromptu chasing), do dishes, clear countertops, and clean up the living room floor. Think about dinner, draw a blank, and think about it some more. Read a story to the kids and scratch Jaxon's back again. (Can you guess his love language?)
2:30 Collapse on the couch, thoroughly spent and fresh out of motivation. Cuddle with the kids as my eyes get veeerrry drooopy.
3:15 Jerk awake to the sound of my phone alarm. Rush out the door with the kids to go pick up Reed. Sit in car, reading (yes, again) until he's done at 3:30.
3:35 Come home and make a snack for the kids. Help Reed with homework or let the kids play outside for a bit. Procrastinate making dinner, either by hanging out with Phill (since he's usually home around this time), standing around outside with the kids, allowing myself to be sucked into Facebook (happens waaaay more than it should) or photo-editing, or reading.
6:30 Realize how late it got and that I still don't have dinner on the table
6:45 Come back from Little Caesar's
7:15 Have prayer, get kids' teeth brushed
7:25 Kids in bed
7:25 Sing less songs, but still give kisses/hugs/back-scratches and at least SOME listening time, and read for 20 minutes.
7:45 Collapse into a puddle of mush on the couch, bemoaning the state of the house and counting my failures of the day, knowing full well I could have done much, much better.
8:00 Resolve to do better tomorrow.
11:30 Finally into bed.
Example 2:
Up at 8:00
8:01 Dress in workout clothes.
8:05 Have Reed shower while I help Savvy and Jaxon dress
8:20 Having already made Reed's lunch the night before, prepare a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and toast for the kids. Eat at a leisurely pace.
8:40 Out the door.
8:43 Drop off Reed and head to the gym.
10:15 Pick up the kids from the gym daycare, come home
10:20 Snack for the kids, breakfast for myself while I read my scriptures
10:30 Shower, dress, blow-dry my three pounds of hair
11:10 After making sure the kids have all they need, sit down at the computer to do writing exercises.
11:40 Finish writing exercises. Do some dishes (if necessary) and make lunch.
12:00 Lunch.
12:30 Read to the kids, then cuddle with them while I read (my own book)
1:00 Set timer and set about getting the house squared away--dishes, laundry, countertops, table, floors, etc...
2:00 Cuddle with the kids again on the couch, make them a snack or watch them draw
2:20 Edit photos
3:00 Put away some clean laundry or (again) cuddle on the couch.
3:15 Leave to get Reed from school, reading in the car while I wait
3:30 Get Reed, come home
3:35 - 4:30 Help Reed with homework OR go to den meeting OR stand outside with the kids while they play in the front for a bit OR cuddle with Phill on the couch when he gets home OR edit photos
4:30 Start dinner prep
5:00 Eat dinner
5:30 Do dinner dishes, play in the front with the kids again
6:00 Bring kids in, get them bathed and pajama'd
6:30 Watch some toons together OR dance in the living room to music (way better option)
6:50 Scriptures, prayer
6:55 Have kids brush their teeth
7:00 Kids in bed
7:00 - 7:30 or 7:45 Sing to Savvy and give her lots of hugs and kisses, sing to Jaxon and make him laugh and scratch his back, sing to Reed and listen to him talk about his day. Read our current chapter book (Right now it's The Great Brain....thanks, Abby!) to the kids while I sit on Reed's bed--Jax hardly lasts through a paragraph, and Savvy on an ideal night is out by four paragraphs. Reed, however, will listen as long as I read. :)
7:45-ish Cuddle with Phill on the couch and watch shows OR edit photos OR do some blogging OR do some Reader OR finish some cleaning OR read a good book OR go get a few things at the grocery store
10:35 Make Reed's lunch for the next day, make sure all the stuff we need for tomorrow is located.
10:45 Get ready for bed
11:00 IN bed, done for the day
It's kind of embarrassing to have laid out the goings-on of my day like this. Believe me....I'm well aware of the areas that could use improvement! I'm working on being able to say I have more Example 2 days than Example 1. It's funny to me, though, how differently my day goes when I choose to wake up on time, or work out, or read my scriptures. (Or all three!) Just like everyone else, I know the things that make my day go smoother, and yet I fall short. Often. And forget the essentials.
Another thing that's embarrassing to me is how much time I actually have. When I'm organized, that is. When I'm not buried in a book or gazing at Facebook or sleeping in. I'm not in any hurry to fill my day up with more--I know how quickly a day can become jam-packed, and I'm steeling myself for when our kids are involved in after-school activities--but I mope and moan about how hard it is to get everything done...and it is, when I'm not really on top of my game. But I'm sure it's not as hard as I make it out to be! I know so many others who are far busier and still manage to get so much done.
I suppose my point is--take comfort! Look how very human I am, and please see me through forgiveness-tinted glasses when you consider that I am certainly working on it. :)
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