Holding Space

This may be a difficult post for some to read, but it's one that has been percolating in my mind for a few days and one that I needed to write. Writing helps me sort through my thoughts, and this was something I needed to sort. So I hope you won't mind reading.

In both birthwork and bereavement work we often do something we refer to as "holding space." It means that there is not anything particular we are doing or saying (sometimes not anything we can do or say) in the situation, but we stand as sentinel over the space. We protect the peace, the calm, the energy, the emotions, and the simple right to feel.

Over the years I have held space for grieving mothers: sometimes in person but more often in virtual space, via phone or instant messages with someone geographically distant but emotionally close. Similarly I have held space for friends and family members as they labor through the delivery of a child or through any difficult time.

I have also held space for my children on many occasions; holding a small one on my lap and surrounding him with the calm of my arms and my breathing, and giving him permission to feel what he feels, and also giving my support in getting through it.

In recent days I have come to recognize the need--and value--for holding space in another way.

My paternal grandfather's health declined sharply a few months ago. He moved in with my aunt so that she could help care for him, and we have all been aware that he would not live much longer. Early last week we learned that he had stopped eating, so we knew to count time in days.

Meanwhile, my maternal grandmother has been dealing with multiple health issues for many years, and in the last few years her hospital stays have increased in frequency, duration, and complexity. A couple of weeks ago she entered the hospital, and within a few days it became apparent that this time was more severe than others had been. Last Thursday her doctor said she probably had a week left.

Last Friday my grandfather passed away. His funeral was on Wednesday.

On Tuesday my grandmother came home under hospice care, to spend her last few days with her spouse in the home they had built and lived in together. My mother was there with her, and said that grandma sat at the window and looked out at the trees that they had planted and raised together, and seemed to be at peace. She had some good hours, and got to spend her 58th anniversary in the arms of her sweetheart and with family by her side. Today she passed on.

I had neither the money nor the scheduling flexibility to visit my grandparents in their final days, nor have it now to attend their funerals. I think they will not mind, seeing as how funerals are for the living rather than the deceased. I had time to send letters, call and communicate my love, and I am grateful for the time we had to do that. Now their spirits are free of the worn out bodies that had held them back, and all I can do is hold space.

This is a different kind of space-holding from what I have done before. My grandparents are no longer here, and do not need me to hold the space for them; instead I must hold it for myself. I must allow myself to feel--whatever I feel--without judgment or guilt. I can hold their memories, carrying them onward by sharing them with my family. I must allow myself to be quiet, to rest, to think, to cry, and to be not-my-best-or-brightest at some things for a while. I must also allow myself to laugh and play and carry on, because the cycles of life continue always.

Bedtime Stories

Bear likes us to tell him stories at bedtime. (He's six. Three-year-old Eagle usually wants a song, but Bear always wants stories.) He does enjoy listening to stories on CD (the Magic Tree House ones are favorites), and he does like books, but most of all he likes told stories, and he especially likes new ones.

I have long-since exhausted the easy-to-remember ones, the common fairy tales, and the simple poems. I have never been good at making up stories (Hubby has told the boys a whole series of "Sir Reginald" stories which he makes up with apparent ease, but I do not have that gift.) Then I began telling the less familiar stories, some of the more obscure fairy tales, and trying to remember books I read as a child but have not seen in years. One such nearly-forgotten book is Bartholomew Cubbins. Actually, it's two books:  "The 500 hats of Bartholomew Cubbins" and "Bartholomew and the Oobleck." They are Dr Seuss books, and I enjoyed them as a kid, and thought that Bear might too.

So I tried to tell him the stories.

Only it's been at least 18 years since I cracked either book, and I fear I have forgotten more than a little. As I told the stories, I regularly got to places where I said "um, I kinda forget what comes next..." so then I made up bits which may or may not resemble the original story.

The next night, Bear said "Mom, I want the stories of Bartholomy Covins again!"

Of course he did.

And the night after that, and the night after that...

The day after that I emailed my dad. Grandpas are good at reading stories, and he was agreeable to helping a tired mommy and the story-hungry grandson.

I remember one Christmas, when I was perhaps 11, my grandparents bought us a book of fairy tales. It had elaborate illustrations and was a beautiful book. With the book was a cassette tape of Grandma and Grandpa reading the stories from the book. We listened to that tape over and over and over...there are phrases which I still hear in Grandma's voice or Grandpa's voice, and I can't think of any of the stories without thinking of them.

Of course we don't use cassette players so much now, but digital options have simplified both the recording and sharing processes. Today I got an email with .wav files of two stories, recorded in my father's voice. We may live 2500 miles away from Grandma and Grandpa, but they can still read bedtime stories to my boys. (And I no longer have to wrack my brain trying to remember the details of books I haven't seen in two decades!)

May I suggest, for anyone who has beloved little ones who live far away (or even not so far away), that you record some stories for them. Send the books along if you like too, but definitely read them stories. Parents who are tired of the same three books all the time could make recordings too, but I really think that stories from grandparents are invaluable. And the digital copies won't wear out the way that old cassette tape did. Make some mp3s, burn a CD, share stories across generations. ☺

Thanksgiving week 2, "Committed" and "The Vow"

I don't know if this will continue for all the weeks of thanksgiving this year, but this week as I think over my list of things I'm grateful for, I again find myself pondering over things I have read and seen in recent days.

This week I began reading "Committed: A Love Story" by Elizabeth Gilbert. It was recommended by a friend, and I didn't realize when I got it that it was a memoir (I thought it was more of a marriage advice book). Ms Gilbert had been through a really rough divorce, and swore she would never marry again...but then her boyfriend got deported and they realized that the only way they could be together was to get married... and so she spent a year researching marriage (via both reading and doing interviews around the world), to try to warm up to the idea. In the book she contemplates the religious and social functions of marriage, the purpose of it, and the implications. In many ways she gained a more mature view of marriage, and learned a great deal about what makes marriages work (or not), and how to have a healthier marriage for herself on her second time around. One of the major things she discussed was being responsible for her own happiness, rather than expecting marriage to automatically make her life into a "happily ever after," and she went on at some length about accepting each other as whole people, with our grubby parts as well as our shiny ones.

Last night I watched the movie "The Vow" which is based on a Nicholas Sparks book. In the story, a young married couple got in a car accident and she suffered a serious head injury. After she woke up, she had no memory of her husband or their courtship. She had previously cut off contact with her parents, but after the accident she had no memory of that either, and they were only too happy to have her back--and to cut him out. The husband patiently works to court her and try to get her to fall in love with him all over again. What I loved most about the story was not the (perhaps inevitable) happy Nicholas Sparks ending, but that the whole thing is based (I don't know how loosely) on a true story, and that the real couple is currently married with two kids, even though she never did regain her memory.

So, with those things on my mind, here are the things I am grateful for this week:

1. My husband
2. That my spouse knows my faults not only likes me anyway, but also helps make up the slack with his own strengths. (We both tend to take up the slack for the other.)
3. My egalitarian marriage.
4. The opportunity to be (and support from my spouse in being) a stay at home parent
5. The opportunity to birth and raise children
6. My children themselves, both for the fulfillment they bring me, and for the lessons they teach me.
7. The repeated validation that the most important and worthwhile thing I can be doing with my time and energies right now is to be present with my children, and teach them to love.

Mother's Necklace

I have a new mother's necklace. (I ordered the beads and made it myself too.) It's different from any other mother's necklace I've ever seen (and, actually, there is a charm for my husband too, so it's more of a "family necklace" I suppose). In any case, I thought I would share:

Dragon ~ Wolf ~ Bear ~ Eagle

The Next Stage

Eagle is now 23 months old; just weeks away from the age Bear was when I got pregnant with Eagle.
But I'm not pregnant. Yes, I am fertile (it took 22 months this time instead of 20), but we're not trying to get pregnant; actually we are actively preventing pregnancy. Maybe forever.

If you had asked me a year ago (as my husband did), I would have said no way was I ready to be done having kids. Ever since my teens I had been planning on 5 kids at least... Even with my slow start and wider-than-anticipated spacing I was 28 when Eagle was born, so I could certainly have another child or two before 35! But when Eagle was just a couple of weeks old, Hubby said something about how we were outnumbered now (more kids than parents), and he thought maybe we should be done having kids. I figured he was tired and stressed with the newborn, and brushed it off. When he brought it up again a few months later,  I began to think about it.

Initially I hated the thought of being done. Only three children? But I have so much to give! I'm pretty good at this mommy thing, I know how to handle lots of kids, shouldn't I give a good home to as many kids as I can? Pregnancy is not that hard for me physically--I don't get that sick and my body doesn't fall apart. Birth isn't hard on me either--in fact it's exhilarating.

And then a friend gave me a piece of very sound wisdom. Some kids need more than others (and I do have a couple of high-needs kids). If a mother has a finite amount of energy (which I think she does!), then no matter how much love she has, it makes sense to go with a family size that is appropriate to her energy. Sometimes that might mean 9 children, and sometimes it might mean 3. As I considered the possibility that I might actually have my quiver full with [only] three children, I began to accept that it was probably true.

So we made the decision to be done with having babies. I admit I made it more mentally than emotionally--part of me keep thinking "we're just done for now, in a few years we'll have another one or two." But I set it in my head and then let it marinate... and it took a while. Some days I would think "ok, I can wait 3 or 4 or 5 years, but I want at least one more" and other days I would think "how nice would it be to have no kids in diapers?!" or "we'll never have to buy a bigger van!"

And then, one day last winter, my sister called and told me she was pregnant. And for the first time, instead of thinking "I wish I were" I thought "I am so glad I'm not." And that was a massive turning point. I had never experienced not wanting to be pregnant in a particular moment. It was weird, and also it helped me realize that maybe I could make this transition.

I don't know precisely what the future holds, but I do know that it does not hold pregnancy for me--not for several years at least, and very probably not ever again. Some days I still struggle with the finality of it, but I also feel confident that this is the right choice for us at this time.

I have an IUD now (because breastfeeding was messing with my charting, and we did not want to allow the possibility of an 'oopsie'). Even though I intellectually knew that I wanted to do this (Hubby and I discussed at length and agreed on this option), it was still hard emotionally. I felt as though I had voluntarily given up my "full bloom" of fertility, as it were, in trade for a forced infertility. Like I had handed in the fullness of my womanhood for premature old age. I appreciate that that probably sounds like hyperbole, but I really felt it keenly. It didn't hit me until I was in the CNM's office getting ready to have the IUD put in, and then I bawled and gushed to her (a veritable stranger) about it. I suppose she doesn't get that very often! I cried much of the day after I came home too. I had not expected to react that way--after all, an IUD can be removed! But the next day I calmed down enough to do a closure ritual for myself, and felt much better for it. It was shortly after this time that I had my epiphany about the three phases of womanhood which I wrote about here.

I may be finishing with one stage of my life, but I still have many stages to live and enjoy. Perhaps I am done with pregnancy and birthing (for myself), but of course motherhood goes on. My children are young, there is much to do with them. As I exit the baby stage, I can enter another stage--a stage I have been thinking about (but putting on hold for six years)--a stage where I can reach out to other women and teach and support them as a doula and a childbirth educator. It's actually pretty exciting.

Mother's Day

“Motherhood becomes a holy calling, a sacred dedication for carrying out the Lord’s plans, a consecration of devotion to the uprearing and fostering, the nurturing in body, mind, and spirit... Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind. It places her who honors its holy calling and service next to the angels.” 

 (Ensign October 2005)

Year after year, on the second Sunday of May, we are inundated with these quotes, poems, and stories of motherhood. Of the perfect mothers with magazine page living rooms, gourmet meals, perfect children, and nary a hair out of place.
Year after year, I have watched real mothers listen to those stories and think "well I'm a pathetic failure then. My kids pick their noses, my hair is frizzy, I hate being pregnant, I can't make a chocolate torte, and Mt Laundry is in direct competition with Everest for tallest mountain on earth."
I have also watched women with infertility who listen to those stories and bawl for the rest of the day because they have neither perfect children nor imperfect ones.
On my first Mother's Day as a married woman, I was still recovering from a difficult late-term miscarriage, and I was definitely not uplifted, comforted, or encouraged by anything I heard about mothers that year.

So here's to all the mothers who aren't June Cleaver.
To all the women who would like to be mothers but don't or can't have children.
To all the women (whether they have kids or not) who reach out into their communities and mother those around them, by being Big Sisters, doulas, midwives, teachers, coaches, mentors, and friends.
The poem says that "the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world," but here is to all the women who have never (and possibly will never) rock a cradle, but who are ruling the world all the same, by getting out and doing good in the world.

Motherhood is broader than biology. 

May we never forget it.

Stand By Your Man

I am writing today to my women readers. I believe I have two or three male readers, and you can feel free to read along too of course, but this isn't really directed to you.☺

In recent years my family has faced unemployment three times. In 2007 my husband was laid off and was not able to find a new teaching job until the last week of July (a mere two weeks for us to tie up everything and move from Utah to Alaska). In 2009 we left Pelican, but he did not get a job offer until the first week of July (better than before, but still several months of stress and uncertainty). Last year he was again laid off, and even though we had a good Plan B (of going to school), he has still been unemployed for this last year, and that takes its toll. Now we are actively job hunting again, and the ups and downs of it are really hard. I have watched the way these events have affected my husband each time, and I have seen and heard similar things from my friends about their own situations with unemployment or job hunting. In all cases, our men have struggled in a way that goes beyond just finances.


When a man has a family, and has taken on the responsibility of being the financial provider for that family (whether in part or in full), then if he is unable to provide for them it is a major blow to his ego. (I'm sure there are occasional exceptions to this, but based on what I have seen they are a minority.) It has been my observation that when a man is not able to provide, it hits him deeply. He may feel less of a man. He may feel that he's a failure (first at providing, then at anything/everything else). He may feel worthless. He may become withdrawn or stand-offish. His libido may suffer. He may get short-tempered. He will very likely face some degree of discouragement or depression.

Now let me interrupt myself for a moment by pointing out that I know that there are people out there who believe that gender roles are are taught, and who would fault me for being so male-centric in this post. I know that a lot of aspects of gender identity are taught, but I do believe that some things are definitely inborn. I have offered my sons a wide variety of playthings, but do they play with the play food or the baby dolls? Nope. Not for more than a couple of minutes. Then they go back to building rockets and swords and catapults and guns. Even when I didn't allow any toy weapons in the house, they would use their legos and lincoln logs and tinker toys to make weapons. They are sweet and affectionate boys, but they are very much 'male' regardless of my efforts to not push roles on them one way or the other. For that among other reasons, I feel unequivocally that there is an inherent difference between boys and girls. I believe that the role of providing is something that is hardwired into the average man as part of his protective nature. It is then no wonder that an inability to provide would leave him feeling like less of a man. Obviously if a woman is the primary provider for her family she would likely feel the same kinds of things as a man would, but culturally there is a precedent and also usually an expectation of a man to be a provider, so I write here primarily of men.

Speaking from my own experiences (both with my own depression and with seeing it in my spouse), when you are the one who is depressed, it is really hard to self-diagnose. All the feelings of inferiority seem justified. All the malaise seems normal. Even milder manifestations of discouragement can still affect spouse and family.

What he needs the most in this situation is to have his wife's unfailing support. The specifics will look different from one couple to the next, but the basic principle is the same. He needs to know that he is still man enough for her. I know that sounds a little cheesy, but if it is his manhood that is threatened, then it is his manhood that needs to be supported. You may find that it helps you with your own frustrations or disappointments as well. Even when your man is happily employed and everything is hunky-dory, little reminders of your love and support will not go amiss. So here are a few ideas of ways to support your man:

• Tell him that you love him.
• Tell him why you love him.
• Tell him--and show him--that you find him romantically and sexually appealing (support an aspect of his manhood that is not out of work!)
• Compliment him, especially about things that demonstrate his manliness (his strength, his skills, his physique, his intellect, his ability as a lover, etc)
• If he is applying for lots of jobs, help with whatever you can, whether that is proofreading his resume, helping collect applications, or finding new ways to cut the budget.
• Bring up concerns if you need to, but try really hard to avoid complaining (about finances particularly).
• If you are eligible, get some help, whether it's from family or church or government. For example, if you're able to get food aid, then you'll be able to continue to eat well in spite of your financial pinch, and a good meal can help things feel normal even when they aren't.
• If you can help bring in money, go for it. If you are both on board with the idea, seek employment to help the family through. If he does not want you to get an outside job though, I think it's also important to respect that. If he is unable to provide, and then you do so, that could make the situation that much harder for him.
• When he's gone all day applying or interviewing, try to have a meal ready for him when he gets home--just as you would have when he came home from working all day.
• If he is at home a lot, ask him to help with things, help him stay occupied and productive. A Honey-Do list is one option. You might also ask or encourage him to take on a large project, such as putting in a garden or refinishing some furniture. Especially try to find 'manly' things to ask him to do. For example, the average guy will probably feel more excited about washing the car, moving heavy items, reaching things from high shelves, or changing the oil than he would about scrubbing the bathroom or cooking dinner. Not that he shouldn't help with those latter things too, but try to find a balance.
• Spend time together doing fun things. Picnics, frisbee, hikes, parks, playing board games, stargazing, trips to the beach, etc. If you have kids, be sure to include them in many of these, but be sure to do some things with just the two of you as well. It doesn't have to cost money to bring happiness and make great memories.
• Encourage him to do things that he enjoys with other adults, for example going to play ball with his friends, or game nights or movie nights with the guys. There are a lot of socializing and entertainment options that are inexpensive or free. Get a little inventive.
• Just as you give him nights out, keep some balance, and take your own nights out too. It gives him a chance to have daddy nights with the kids (if you have them), or to have a quiet night at home alone.
• If nothing else is helping, seriously consider seeking therapy or medical help. Depression can be a very dangerous thing in its more severe manifestations. It's probable that he won't feel that help is necessary, but if you feel it is, then it probably is.
• And no matter what, you vowed to do it when you married him, so stand by your man. ☺

Our Family Goals

I wrote this during the first year of our marriage, and posted it on our wall. I don't actually have a copy on the wall at the moment, but I do go back and look at this periodically, and I continue to feel precisely the same as I did then about what is valuable in family life. So I thought I would share with you.

OUR FAMILY STRIVES TO HAVE

Excellence

Academic or vocational achievement in their field of choice

Wisdom

The ability to judge well, and make educated decisions

Testimony

A love for God and an eternal perspective on life

Knowledge

Of who you are and why you are here

Strength

To stand up for who you are and what you know

Virtues

Honesty, charity, respect, patience, gentleness, morality, humility, service

Independence

Having all the skills necessary to maintain a house, home, and family

Balance

To be well-rounded, with an understanding of many things, without obsession of any

What are your family's priorities?

30 Days--Day 2

Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for the longest.

My sister, 18 months younger than myself.

Plans for 2011

Last year I took on a lengthy list of intentions, and fulfilled the vast majority of them. The year before I had a short list, and still didn't get to all of them...
This year, I'm taking a new approach. Rather than having specific goals, I have some general areas of focus; some mantras, if you will, by which I want to guide my life at this time.

1. Family First
2. Mindful Serenity (also stated as let it be, peace be still, it is what it is, or let go and let God)
3. Celebrate

That is it.
There are some specific things I want to do in regard to these foci, but a lot can change in a year, and who knows but what the specifics may change as the months go by...so I will write about those things as they come. For the present, this is where I am.

Family First (at the present) means that I'm putting my etsy shops on the back burner. I'll sew things to sell if or when I feel like it, but I will sew and knit primarily for my family, and I probably won't be taking custom orders.  I'll continue with my efforts to read to my kids regularly (even the big one, you might be surprised how much readers still enjoy being read to!). I'll continue to try to say "just a minute" less often. I will not hesitate to say 'no' to demands that pull me away from my children and spouse (which, by the way, includes facebook...I'm making myself a few rules that will keep me off it more, as it has a tendency to be quite a time-suck).

Mindful Serenity (at the present) means practicing mindfulness and surrender in the pursuit of personal (And familial) peace. It means stepping back from the stress and chaos that could be, and instead embracing gentleness and intentionality. It means releasing judgment. It means taking time to observe and ponder, and noting the interconnectedness of things. It means seeking the spiritual side of everything, even the mundane.

Celebrate (at the present) means that I'll continue seeking ways to make life a continual celebration. "Man is that he might have joy" and I thoroughly object to the notion that only 6 weeks of the year can be "the holiday season." My goal is that my family will have holidays and celebrations to enjoy all year long. (I'm working on a post with our annual calendar of celebrations.) It also means finding joy in the little moments of sunlight or barefootedness. ☺

My Family or My Family?

My brother is getting married a few days before Christmas, and I won't be there.

I don't blame him for the timing. He is in school and is coordinating people from multiple states and the holiday break is simply the best time to hold the festivities. Christmas is a fine time to get married.  My own wedding was December 20th!

I live 2500 miles away from where the wedding will be, and flying at Christmastime is expensive and harried, but I considered it anyway. My dad had some airmiles saved up that we thought I might be able to use for a cheaper ticket, and I spent some time looking at the logistics of trying to make the trip.
I saw my brother (and met his fiancee) a few weeks ago, but I was especially excited at the prospect of seeing my east-coast-dwelling sister, because I've seen the rest of my family twice in the last year, but haven't seen her in over three years. I also would have gotten to see my grandparents, whom I have not seen in over two years.
However, due to the expense of the plane tickets, (and our unemployed/broke status), if I went down to the wedding I would be going with just my baby (in my lap), and my other children would have to stay behind with Hubby. It's not that I'd be worried about them (although of course I'd miss them), and at another time of year I might have decided to go ahead and make the trip... but December 19-23 are as much a part of Christmas as December 25th is, and I don't want to spend them away from my children.

But it's my brother's wedding! He's only going to do this once, I want to be there! Christmas comes every year, doesn't it? But my kids will only be 1 and 3 and 10 once, and I want to be here too.
As I thought over these things, a verse came to mind:

Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife. (Genesis 2:24 )
My brother, my sister, my parents...my family of origin are important to me. I love them, I enjoy seeing them, I am grateful for modern technologies like email and long-distance telephone and skype that allow me to keep in touch with them. However, I have another family now, the family I have made with my husband, and if it has to come down to choosing between them, the choice is obvious for me. My kids will always come before my siblings, just as my spouse will always come before my parents.
And I think that's the way it's supposed to be.

Eagle Turns One

Bear said that it would be good to have a car cake. Then he went and fetched one of his toy cars for the cause:

The road is made with crushed graham crackers and edged with chocolate chips (and if you're an engineer don't look too closely at the road where it goes around the edge on that little hill, ok? I know, it's totally undrivable, shhh!!)

Unfortunately some of these photos came out a bit fuzzy (wiggly boy!) but they're still cute, and they show him for the gleeful little boy that he is:

Happy First Birthday Kiddo!!

Love Your _______

Recently as I was driving home I saw a marquee out in front of a church that said "Love Your Enemy." That phrase got me to thinking of the other phrase we hear so often: "love your neighbor."

Firstly, who is my enemy? I actually can't personally think of any--I'm sure there are people out there who don't like me, but I figure that's their problem, not mine. I suspect that for most of us, in our day to day life, our 'enemies' are not close to home. They are distant and conceptual, and we have other things to worry about in our busy lives. So when the sermon on the mount tells us "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you," we smile and nod, say something cursory in our prayers, send a donation to somebody who does work in poor places (that's where terrorists come from, right?), and then pat ourselves on the back and go about our business.

Loving an unseen enemy can be easy. The depth of the love may be in question, but since we're not having any personal interactions with said enemies, it's not that big a deal...

But loving your neighbor?

You mean the neighbor who lets his dog poop in my yard?
How about the one who always drives on my grass?
Or the one who drives too fast down my little residential street where my kids play?
What about the son who never seems to pee quite in the toilet?
And the spouse who leaves his clothes on the floor?
The daughter who steals your makeup and then misses curfew? Frequently?
The child who talks back?
The family member who takes the last cookie?!

How easy is it to love these people?

Oh, sure, we 'love' them. We say we love them, we do nice things to and for them, we take care of them. But do we let ourselves get frustrated over things that don't really matter in the long run? Do we speak to them in anger? Why is it that we 'let our hair down' and act our worst when we are with the ones who matter most?

Yes, we certainly should make efforts to love our enemies. BUT, I think that the higher priority needs to be to love those who are all around us right here at home. After all, they have to live with us.

Razor Clams

A couple of weeks ago we had a nice low tide, so we went clamming.

What the photos don't reveal is that this walk across the 'beach' is actually walking through an inch or two of water...the whole way...
Oh, wait, that doesn't give an idea of how far out it really was.
Let's try without the zoom:
(yes, they are out there, right in the center...you can kinda see Wolf's red coat and that big rock they were next to...)

So I took the littles back off the beach and we played by the river mouth instead.

Bear threw rocks at the water (he didn't want to walk on the wet sand, preferring to stay on the dry rocks, so he wouldn't get close enough to the water to actually throw rocks IN the water...so he just threw them AT the water).
Eagle chewed on rocks and got dirty.
I got my toes into the earth... Ahhhhhh... (Bear is a hardcore barefooter, and since my shoes were wet from crossing the beach I joined him.)

And Wolf and Hubby dug us a bunch of razor clams. (Which, if you want to eat razor clams, you boil then for 10 seconds then drop them in ice water--that opens them up and also kills them pretty humanely--it's better than trying to cut them up without boiling them!)


For the record, I didn't like clams before, and now that I've gutted and carved a few dozen clams, I have no intention of ever eating one again. (Did you know they poop through their foot?!) Hubby and Wolf can have them all. But I guess that's ok, because they caught them.

Things My Father Taught Me

After devoting Mother's Day to things my mother taught me, I wanted to devote Father's Day to my daddy.

(playing the piano with Wolf, 2004)

It's ok to be "weird." Conformity is for those who don't have enough imagination or self-esteem to be themselves.

Hair is overrated.

Take the long way home--don't go the same route twice if you go on a different route and see something new.

Stop to smell the flowers and look at the waterfalls.

If you can't find any flowers, then plant some.

Wear whatever makes you comfortable.

Do what makes you happy. Work can be enjoyable and fulfilling if you do the job right and choose a field you love.

Learn language. Use the words that express exactly what you mean. Learn to put them together well. Nobody will take you seriously if you can't write decently.

If there is not an English word that means what you want, try another language. Who says you can only use one language in the house? (Because there is no simple translation for failluto, and it is such a useful word.)

Read.

Make music.

Notice what needs to be done, then do it. Don't wait to be asked.

Work before play. Work hard.

If you say you'll do it, you'd better follow through.

Help other people, even when you feel like you don't really have the time. If you can make time for yourself, you can make time for others.

It's ok to like things that are different from anybody else.

It's ok to live far away from your parents or other family, but you have to call or visit. (It's great if you live somewhere interesting and worth visiting.)

Never pass up an opportunity to learn something new.

Never pass up an opportunity to travel someplace you've never been.

Experience is the ultimate teacher.

Travel is the ultimate experience.

Monopoly with a Three-year-old

This week my husband brought home Alaskan Monopoly (he inherited it from someone at the school I think). Anyway, Wolf was very excited to play it, so tonight after dinner we set it up.
Bear was on my team, since three is pretty young to try to play on his own. After about our fourth turn he got tired of waiting for turns and started playing on his own.

First he traded out everyone's playing pieces.
Where's my piece?
What were you?
I was the car.
Oh, well, I think you're the hat now.
I thought [someone else] was the hat.
No, he used to be the hat, but now he's the battleship, gee, weren't you paying attention??

Then he started playing with the houses and hotels.
Wait, you can't have a house on Juneau, you don't own all the reds.
I didn't put a house on Juneau!
Oh, it was Bear, Bear, you can't just build houses on the board, you have to do them on the table.
[Bear grins and puts a hotel on the board]

And then there was the money.
Here mommy, you can have a pretty pink money.
Oh, thanks honey, where did you get that?
From Daddy.
Oh, well then give this other pink money to daddy, ok?
--and--
Hey, I thought I was broke, I just mortgaged three properties to pay you, how did I get a $500 in my money?
You must not have noticed it
Um, I'm pretty sure I checked...
[Bear grins innocently]

Things My Mother Taught Me

My mother taught me a multitude of skills: sewing, needlepoint, cooking, childcare, housekeeping, gardening, food preservation, the list goes on and on. But this post is not about skills, it's about the things my mother taught me about life and how to live it. So, in no particular order, things my mother taught me:

(me, age 2, with my mommy)

Ask questions. Never assume that the status quo is the only way to do something.

Learn things for yourself. Make your own decisions.

Choose your own life. Be your own person. Don't feel obligated to go to a certain college or study a certain subject or give birth in a certain way just because somebody else did.

Whatever you choose to do (from a chore to a career), do it right and do it well.

Never stop learning. There is always something new to learn.

Trust your feelings. If someone tells you something that feels wrong, you don't have to believe them.

"A change is as good as a rest." If you can't stop, at least do something different for a while, and the change is as rejuvenating as a break.

It is worth whatever it takes to marry in the temple.

Each season in our lives has a different purpose and focus. In our youth we have a season to focus on ourselves, and we should live it up because as we grow older we will need to be focused on others.

With that said, take care of yourself. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't have anything left to be able to give.

What you think of yourself matters more than what anyone else thinks of you.

You can't kiss a baby just once.

Fast games are good--you can play several of them in an afternoon and still be able to change the baby and do dishes and make brownies in between.

If you can't find what you want, make it.

Breastfeeding is a good time to read books.

If it doesn't matter in the eternal picture, then it doesn't matter much at all. Don't bother getting into a huff over something that doesn't really matter.

People are more important than things, and family are the most important people of all.

There is no such thing as too many cuddles, too many children, too much laughter, or too many books.

Beltane Bonfire

A local group put on a bonfire at the beach last night. Their intent was to raise awareness because April was "domestic violence and sexual assault awareness month." They spent a little while on that, but then much of the evening turned to drumming and roasting marshmallows and playing on the beach. I certainly support the group's cause (you can see in the photos some people with candles), but we also thought it was nice to spend a seasonally significant evening in nature with a bonfire. (The flames were not big for long, but it was putting out a lot of heat!)

Bear tossed a football with daddy,

and Hubby (and Wolf) got in touch with their Scottish heritage by throwing around some logs.

Mother's Ring

We got the new stone added for Eagle.

Bear (garnet), diamond, Eagle (citrine), diamond, Wolf (alexandrite)

(for the whole background story on my mother's ring, read here)

They also cleaned the ring, and now the comparison shows just how dirty my wedding ring has gotten. Hmm, guess I need to get that one cleaned too huh? (Hubby says maybe it's appropriate, that the kids are 'bright and shiny' and that he is 'a bit dirty and dinged up'...) I guess I could take off my rings anytime I wash my hands or do dishes or cook or shower...but I'd rather wear them and have them get dirty than not wear them.

Dedicate ourselves to strengthening marriages, families, and homes

There is a war being fought today and it isn’t across an ocean. Satan knows that within the walls of homes, inside strong marriages and families, is where he loses the most ground; therefore he is doing all within his power to destroy marriages, families, and homes. Satan spreads lies about the composition of the family—suggesting that it is ok to have two mommies, two daddies, unmarried parents, or (intentionally) single parents. Psychological studies have shown that it is healthiest for a child to be raised by two parents of opposite sexes. No matter how much love exists in any other arrangement, it cannot compete with God’s perfect design for families.
Marriages and families are pillars of strength in society. They are the center points from which we all face the world, from whence we determine our lives’ directions, and within which we form our values. Any society must stand on the shoulders of those within it, and those within it will not have the strength to hold up very much unless they are built together in the framework of families. Without families, marriages, and homes, we have nothing, and our society cannot help but crumble.
We live in a culture (at least in the USA) which promotes independence and selfishness, but it is only with interdependence and selflessness that we can truly be strong. United we stand, divided we fall. If we desire a sustainable society, it is imperative that we be dedicated to supporting and promoting strong marriages, families, and homes.