Nauvoo vacation...finally!

 

 Last month we went to Nauvoo.  I have always wanted to go there and we took the opportunity to meet some friends there and spend a weekend with them.  It was my friend Ashley's birthday.  She and I are so close we are like sisters. I often call her my sister, she is my sister of the heart.

 We all had so much fun.  Glen, my little zoologist, loved all of the animals he saw; deer, raccoons, snakes, we even caught frogs and crickets.  The house we stayed at was right by the temple and also right across from a school so the boys spent a lot of time playing on the playground when we were not out and about.

 This is Carthage Jail where the prophet Joseph Smith was martyred. That hole next to me is believed to be from the bullet that killed his brother Hyrum.  I have wanted to go to Carthage so much because I heard what a powerful spiritual experience it is.  People have said as soon as they walk in they are overcome and moved to tears.  I expected that, and at first I was really disappointed that I didn't feel much.  As I sat there pondering I realized that I felt the Spirit, I felt a sacredness to the place, but it wasn't powerful.  That's OK though, because I realized as I sat there that my whole life has been like that.  I have never had a huge powerful experience, it is a lifetime of small, simple witnesses that have given my a strong testimony.  Small, but also very sweet and sacred.  I am grateful that John took Elizabeth out for a few minutes so that I could have that sweet moment and comforting realization.

 Abigail got some serious lovins from all the people who had been waiting to meet her.  :)

 This is also at Carthage.  Elizabeth had been held the whole time and wanted to get down and run. When we left the jail I put her down and she immediately ran back to the statue of Joseph and Hyrum and hugged their legs.  That nearly brought me to tears because I have such a tender love for Joseph and Hyrum, I wanted to hug them too.

 We walked down Parley street just like the saints when they lined up all their wagons and crossed the Mississippi river.

 HAHAHA, this had me laughing so hard!  Elizabeth kept dropping her doll so I put it in the baby wrap and it looked like John had the wrap just for the doll.

 The boys wanted to throw rocks into the Mississippi river, that was their biggest desire for this vacation.  Mine was Carthage.

I loved going to the temple with my friends and husband, I loved the sweet sacred feeling at Carthage, and I loved the printing store! That was so fun, so many words and old phrases explained. Big letters were kept in the *upper case*, and little letters were kept in the *lower case*!  <3 p="">I wanted to share an experience we had at one of the pageants.  Jennifer had taken the other kids home to be with John so it was just Glen and I.  Walking in we were met by protesters, one of which was very loud and rude.  He scared Glen.  On the way out I was afraid too, afraid for my tender hearted little boy who was so hurt and afraid of the man saying mean things about us and about our Heavenly Father.  I told him we would pray for them to feel God's love and then we would sing as we walked past so we didn't have to hear him yelling at us.  I picked him up and I sang at the top of my very unsteady voice.  I was too afraid to sing well or long and as my voice gave out I saw a couple of Elders walking past.  I begged them to sing with me and they walked with us and sang "The Spirit of God," so loudly and beautifully.  Right before we got to the protesters the man yelling suddenly stopped.  He didn't start up again until we were past him and into the parking lot.  I know the Lord answered our prayer by sending the missionaries to sing with us and because the man stop yelling as we walked past.  I am grateful for the opportunity to talk about protesters with Glen, to explain to him that they do not hate us, they are trying to be missionaries, but they are not very nice about it.  I am also grateful for the opportunity to be there for my son when he needed me.

Wholesome recreational activties

I was listening to the Mormon channel's series about family fun and how important wholesome recreational activities are to the family.  They rank right up there with forgiveness and love.  Here are a few fun things we have done with the kids lately.

 This is one of the state parks by us.  It had a really great slide.

 John and I love to go on dates and have time together to talk and relax.

 We clean together.  Working together provides a great time to talk.

 We play together.

 We took advantage of a spontaneous opportunity to feed ducks from our balcony.

 We study bugs and the world around us.

We share food.

 We went a falconer picnic since Glen wants to be a falconer and they both love birds.

 We take pony rides.

 We play games outside.

 We hunt for bugs and bunnies.

 We pull together.

 We take family vacations.

We goof off.

These are the brush strokes of our lives.  The games, the work, play, time together, and even struggles we have together build a truly beautiful painting.

Brush strokes

Sunday morning, church today.  Get up, get breakfast.  Pack a diaper bag, ask the kids to get dressed, shower, dress one baby, ask the kids to get dressed again, do my hair, tell the kids they better get dressed or else, make lunch, dress the baby, find socks, make a snack for church, graham crackers are too messy, skip the snack, they don't really need one anyway, change the babies diaper, now I have to change her clothes, fight with the kids over going to church, explain how important it is and why we go, pile in the car, run back to lock the door, run back for a binky, we're off on time, no we aren't, we forgot the diaper bag, back home, grab the diaper bag, lock the door, off to church, only 5 minutes late, we get to take the sacrament.  I know that was a tortuous run on sentence, that is what Sunday feels like to me.  I also realize that it's just a phase.  Some day the kids will be older and it won't be such a hassle to get them ready and to church, some day I can sit through all of sacrament meeting without having to take out screaming kid or crawl under the bench for a binky.  Some day I might even get to listen to what is being said!  But that day is not today, today I wonder why I even go to church.  It's hard to get the kids ready and go, to struggle all the way there and then all through sacrament until I can pawn them off on the primary teacher (No, not every Sunday is like that by the way.)  I go.  I do.  Being away from all of my family and friends has made it convenient to skip church and I can really feel the adversary encouraging that thought in me.
Shortly after we moved in there was a man who said some really hurtful things to us, and he continued to say hurtful things.  I'm not easily offended, but when someone says mean things to me, I mean really mean things, it hurts.  I was so hurt that is was hard to go to church and see him every week, to feel judged by him. I told John I wanted to go to another ward so I could avoid him.  I thought, briefly of not going back at all.  Today was stake conference and I wasn't going to go.  The car was over heating after just a few minutes and I thought we should just stay, especially when John woke up sick and so did Elizabeth.  We went though and I am so glad that I did because I got so much out of the meeting, I mean more then I have gotten out of a church meetings since before I had kids!  I won't tell you everything, but I will tell you what one man spoke about.  I cannot remember exactly who it was, but I think it was our area authority.  He talked about a talk given by Elder Bednar of the 12 apostles.  In this talk Elder Bednar talked about a painting.  Each brush stroke alone was nothing amazing, but when you put them all together they make something great.  So it is in our lives.  Each family prayer, family home evening, scripture study, and trip to church are a brush stroke in our lives.  Together they make something beautiful.  As I listened to that I thought that as hard as it is, as often as I wonder why I even go to church or force my kids to sit for scriptures and kneel for prayer, it is worth it in the end.  Each of those is a brush stroke in their testimony and the end result will be beautiful.  I also felt the Lord telling me that what that man said doesn't matter.  Going to church is what matters.  I do not go to church for that man, I go to church for the Lord and to better myself.  This is just one more test of my faith.  Just like the Lord sees my faith every week as I drag my kids to church, he sees my faith as I now drag myself to church.  Even knowing I go to church for the Lord it is harder to go knowing I will see this guy every week.  But you know what?  The Lord has provided tender mercies in each of the people that I see very week that greet me with a smile and a kind word.
I'm sorry if this hasn't made sense, I felt like it was important to share my struggle and the peace that I have found.  I hope it helps someone.

A gift freely given

This is part two of a previous post from Jun titled "Love Wins Over Vanity"  I cut my hair two months ago after I found out that my friends husband had died from cancer. I wanted to do something to help, but being so far away from her I felt like I couldn't do anything.  So I decided I would cut my hair.  I'm not going to pretend to be humble, I have great hair, it's a fact.  As of this morning I still had the braid I cut off.  Did you catch that I cut it off TWO MONTHS AGO!?  Maybe love didn't win over vanity as easily as I thought.  

 I just kept looking at it and thinking I should send it in to locks for love, but I couldn't let it go.  I cried over it, debated calling the hairdresser up to ask if she could make extensions and put it back on, and refused to be ok with it.  Well, we had a talk, myself and I, and I said to myself, "self, your being selfish keeping your hair.  It means so much to you, your one great beauty, and you deny to others who have none.  STOP IT!!!"  Then I asked Heavenly Father to help my hair grow fast and help me keep it healthy and I would donate it again and again.  Now that I could give it freely I finally mailed that beautiful, thick braid to locks for love and I challenge you to do the same.  Did you know it takes 8-10 braids to make one wig!?  Think about how much you love your hair, maybe you don't particularly like it, but would you want to be without it?  Donating your hair is giving a gift you can still keep.  You can give 8-10 inches of hair and still have it on your hair.  I think that is awesome, how many gifts can you give and still keep?  Anyway, look into it.   There are a lot of agencies and they all have different requirements.  Some say no dyes or perms, some are ok with one or both.  Some want 8 inches, some want 10.  Do your research and please give of your beautiful gift freely.

A new beginning

John will often look at the children and say "S/he has reached a new stage of development, I can see it in her/his eyes."  I feel like I have reached a new stage of development myself. It came on gradually and tonight the light finally turned on.
You see I am finished with parenting books and advice/ demands from the pediatrician.  Don't get me wrong, they have a lot of good to say, I suppose I'm not completely done with them, I am just not allowing them to be the final authority any longer.
For so long I have tried to parent by the book, a lot of books actually.  I have come upon a new method and grasped it, clung to it and the only way to do things.  Potty training has to be done at this age and in this way, feeding schedules, sleep schedules, when, what and how much they eat, chores, discipline...the list is endless.  Parenting advice is plentiful, unending even.
But tonight as I went in yet again to put in a binky to get my littlest to sleep, telling myself it was good for her, it just felt like a hollow excuse, I felt wrong.  Let me add right here that Dr.s and parenting books have tons of good advice and they should not be lightly dismissed, but I know my kids better then any author or Dr. no matter how much experience they have.  I know that Glen went to sleep easily, he hardly ever cried.  Benjamin needed me to stay with him in his room until he fell asleep, Elizabeth would cry for an hour and never stop if I didn't go in and give her a binky and I know that sometimes, but not always Abigail won't sleep unless I am holding her.  I know that she will fight it and scream for about 2 minutes before zonking out in my arms.  I know that even though she is 4 months old she isn't ready for food and despite what the nurse said at her check up I will not be giving her food yet.  I appreciate the dentist telling me how bad a binky is for teeth and yet I will allow Elizabeth to keep it until she feels ready to give it up.  She is emotionally attached to it like neither of the boys were, she is different.
That is the key, the missing piece.  All of those books and articles full of advice have helped me tons, but the problem was that I was trying to apply it to all of the kids.  Now I see that they are different and so need different things.  SO what I am going to do is take all of that advice and pick and choose, based on each individual child, what will help them the best.  I'll add a generous amount of love and attention, and a huge helping of prayer and faith and you know what?  They will turn out ok, even if Elizabeth need braces, even if Glen breaks his other arm because I let him climb trees, Even if I hold Abigail and rock her to sleep, and even if I let Benjamin hide behind me skirts when he is nervous.  This time I have with them is so limited.  I want to cherish it in my way and in theirs without worrying about rigid schedules that make us miss out on chasing fireflies, and the stress that I have found from trying so hard to be like the perfect moms I read about.  I'll never be perfect, I'm going to mess up, but they will still turn out ok, and some day I hope they will look back and see those magical moment I tried to take advantage of and encourage.