Rantings of the emotionally unstable

It has been too long since I have written. I feel like a part of me is repressed when I don't write because I have to keep everything inside of me, and because my brain is too full I lose things. I lose emotions, truths, definitions of self.  I find it more difficult to write electronically. Call me old fashioned but one of my most favorite things to collect are journals. A blank piece if paper and a salivating pen makes my heart dance. This is one thing that I have noticed about my daughter. I was cleaning her closet out a few weeks ago and I found journal after journal and pen upon pen. I want to get mad at her hoarding ways at times but finding these treasures brings me closer to her. It makes her a part of me. Things have been rough in my latest days.  I am finishing up with nursing school, which I feel is a huge miracle and I am so proud of myself for actually finishing something In my life. Something I am passionate about. Why had I never considered nursing before. I feel like I was born into this world I help touch people's hearts, to help prove that humanity is kind hearted and loving, to define altruism. Nursing is the profession of caring if performed properly.  I have never really felt like I had a perfect fit in this world. I have always been a lost spirit flitting around in this world looking for purpose.  My children gave me purpose in my youth and continue to ground me but  what would I be to this world when they are grown up? I suppose being a mother never ends but when my time is not consumed in raising them, then what?  If any career defines who I am or want to be as a person, nursing finds its way into the dictionary of my self awareness.  This all being said this last semester has been horrible. I have met two of the anti heroes of my life story and have not struggled with my weaknesses since I finally allowed myself to let my mom out of my life.  These women at supposed To be leaders and advocates for other women such as myself but prove to be absolutely heartless. They say that nursing is the only field where they eat their young but my altruistic view of mankind was determined to deny this philosophy. It is hard to be let down by your own species. I am not directly talking about human beings but women. Strong women who set out to prove their strength. It saddens me when women who should be using their strength for example and guidance use it inappropriately and encourage the derogatory "bitch" to define them and demean the strength of femininity. God gives us trials to strengthen us. I believe He trusts in me to overcome and so I try everyday. These are merely tribulations to refine and build the character and muscle of my femininity. High heels and lipstick may strengthen the facade but true power comes through integrity,  willpower and above all kindness and charity. These are the qualities I hope to possess. These are the qualities that I strive to be spoken about me when I have left this world. I try so hard to live up to teae qualities but did myself running into this wall I build around my heart. I seem to give freely to those around me and strangers even, but I feel that I lack these things when it comes to my husband. What happened in my life to turn my sense of pride in my sex into stereotypical feminism when I am around the men in my life?  This is a dirty trait that I am well aware of and have no idea how to break it down, and shove it aside. It is the one quality I try so hard devoid. Many of my friends are married to men who are not even half worthy of being married to these women. I am married to a man who loves me despite my weight gain over the years of our marriage. A man who has actively participated as a father by changing diapers and cleaning up vomit after a night if the flu. I am married to a man who has forgiven my financial stupidity, and emotional immaturity in the early years of our marriage.  A man who does the laundry and washes dishes and buys me sourdough bread and dr. Pepper because he knows how much I love them. I am married to a man who has held me in the depths of my despair as we watched our son almost slip away from this world, a man who has cried because of me, for me and most importantly with me. A man who sobs everytime one of his children is born, a man who opens my door and hold my hand. He is loyal, honest and romantic. He is a man of men. He is hardworking an puts his family first.  Why has it taken me 13 years to fully appreciate this man? Why do I try to be a martyr when he is never against me? I feel like I was never taught to love a man.  This sentence may sound a little peculiar but those who know my mom understand this truth. Nobody taught me to respect the strong men I have in my life a because of that I feel as f I have missed opportunities to unconditionally love the men in my life, like my dad and my grandpa. A good man wants to be loved. It is amazing the respect that is reciprocated when you love someone unconditionally and it has taken me most of my life to figure this out.  I may sound scatter brained tonight but these are the thought in my heart today and I feel like now I can rest easy and my soul can breathe for the evening.

Time Travel

Life has a funny way of getting away from us. We forget what it is all about and focus solely on surviving.  As we raise our first child we worry about what they will become,  and how to keep them healthy, and how no one else knows how to raise a child as well as you do.  Then we have another child and realize our naivete and giggle over the overly protective nature of the "first time mom". I feel like I turned around for only a moment to look back and find my children half way through their childhoods. I often lose sight of my original goal for my life. I remember meeting a boy who I loved to be with.  He put me on a pedestal.  He stole gentle kisses.  He stole not so gentle kisses.  All of my thoughts were focused on him. That is what I wanted from my life. I get too busy to realize that I indeed have that life.  I married that boy.  Our family attended a wedding reception of a friends daughter.  So full of youth and  hope for a fairy tale life these two beautiful kids danced and kissed.  My own "boy" pulled me close to him as we watched this new family being formed.  I know we both were both feeling the same young love and hope that we had for each other so many years ago.  Although life may get away from us and we may forget for a moment the love we had for each other back then, when we stop to look around us we can fathom the moments that have made our love and relationship so much more than it ever has been.  My life has been full of trials and heartache and my Nate has always stuck by my side.  He has given me three beautiful children.  There are bonds between us that will not be broken if we continue to remember one another, to stop and look at what our connection has created.  Someday my children will be so lucky to find young love and hope, an eternal companion to begin a journey with.  Life comes too fast.  Enjoy every single moment, because you cannot get them back.

Camp "Independence"

It is so interesting how we grow our whole lives to become independent.  As a very young girl, that is all that I dreamed of.  I was certain that I could do it all on my own and I worked hard to do so.  I did , of course, learn that however strong I was I could certainly not do it ALL on my own and enjoyed the journey.  Now here I am, a 33 year old woman, as independent as they come, holding my breath as I drop my two oldest children off at a 5 day "sleep over" camp, agonizing over their search for independence.  How does this happen?  Why does this cycle never end?  How is it that I have fought my whole life to become independent and end up giving my whole heart and soul to my children as I hold on to them and beg for their dependence on me. I want nothing more than for my children to be strong, independent individuals as long as they never lose their grasp on their mama. Being a mother is so painful and yet so rewarding at the same time.  I remember thinking years ago,  "what could be worse than reliving junior high all over again?" and then I realized that watching my children go through it would be a thousand times more torturous. I want to protect them from all of the mean things in the world.  I wish I could make everyone realize how amazing these kids are without having them go through the actual pains of growing up. It is funny to me how different my "independent" children are.  As I dropped Spence off in his cabin, he was eager to see me off, and hesitant to give me a goodbye hug in front of all the other boys.  Belle, on the other hand, hugged me as tight as she could and said "I am going to miss you so much mommy".  She was hesitant to let me go but knew it was time and she said "Okay little bird, fly away."  Oh how I love her. I don't think she realized I was thinking the same words.  She is my silent protector.  The more she grows up, the more I realize we need each other so very much.  Gavin, with pack on back was so eager to be grown up and head to "Camp Hobe" too.  His little heart was broken when he realized that he did not get to stay with his brother and sister.  We decided to make our own camp this week "Camp Mommy".  I do not think he expects this to be as cool as Hobe but for now it is sufficient.

This is Me

Many people do not understand "Mormonism." It is hard to understand and believe in Joseph Smith, and the revelations given to him on this earth. There are so many sects of Christianity. So many different beliefs but all united in one main purpose, to live with our Savior, Jesus Christ, and our Heavenly Father. To be reunited with family and friends for eternity. Although, a "peculiar" religion, I am so proud to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I feel so privileged to be a part of an organization that focuses so much on service, on sacrifice and eternal families. In our church our women's organization is called Relief Society. We are dedicated to uplifting and serving women in our neighborhood and in the world. Today I feel inspired and touched to share the Relief Society Declaration. To share a little part of me, of who I am and who I strive to be. You may not understand my religious institution but I would like you to understand the person that I am and what my purpose in this life is.

We are beloved spirit daughters of God.

Our lives have meaning, purpose, and direction.

As a worldwide sisterhood, we are united in our devotion

to Jesus Christ, our Savior and Exemplar.

We are woman of faith, virtue, vision, and charity who:

Increase our testimonies of Jesus Christ

through prayer and scripture study.

Seek spiritual strength by following the

promptings of the Holy Ghost.

Dedicated ourselves to strengthening

marriages, families, and homes.

Find nobility in motherhood

and joy in womanhood.

Delight in service and good works.

Love life and and learning.

Stand for truth and righteousness.

Sustain the priesthood

as the authority of God on earth.

Rejoice in the blessings of the temple,

understand our divine destiny,

and strive for exaltation.

I am a happy woman, who has experienced much heartache, and many trials in my life. As cheesy and it may sound to some God is good. He is my strength and my peace. Who does not hope for that in this lone and dreary world. Happiness is achievable. I know that there is only one way to find it and am so thankful to have this in my life.

Eternal

The relationships we share on this earth are a peculiar thing. They are not random. We interconnect with one another for a purpose. For belonging. For love. For peace and comfort. This weekend we were able to attend the baptism for the son of one of our dear friends. As I sat and observed the friends we have I was overwhelmed with gratitude and humility for the gift of friendship that I have in my life. God has over abundantly blessed me with so many incredible people. I have quality friends. I have friends that I can always count on. Friends who would walk to the ends of the earth with me. Friends who are unconditional. Friends who are all weather. Trench friends. I remember growing up, my parents telling me that in the end it will be family not friends, and that family is always there. I love my family and know that they will love me unconditionally but as I age and grow in wisdom I am learning that my friends have become family. I encourage my children to be wise in their choice of friends, to value those relationships, to nourish them. We will have the opportunity to have eternal friends. Our souls are linked together in one deep appreciation for eachother. We can say so much to eachother without speaking a word. We are all put on this earth with eternal ties. Keep those ties and bring them home. This is one of my ultimate goals.

Introspection

I have always been good at writing a journal. I began pouring my soul to empty pages when I was eight years old. There have been moments that I have I diligent at writing day after day, or week after week. There have been long periods of absence. My rantings, my raw imperfections have been shared on my previous blog about my seven year old's journey, and victory over stage 4 cancer, for the last 2 years. I am ready to be me. To journal life as it is happening. To capture my emotion. This will be a gift to my children in years to come as they too have experienced life, hatred, anger, happiness, joy, tears, laughter, children, companionship.

I am a strong woman. I did not always believe that. As I look at the path's I have chosen and their destinations, I know this to be truth. I began my life in a home full of anger. There were many happy times, mostly because of my dad, but they are overshadowed by the abuse of a mentally ill mother. I, being the oldest of five children, emotionally took care of emotional needs of my siblings. To this day, I still have this role. I want to take care of all those around me who cannot emotionally handle their own lives. This has become a fault of mine. After over three decades of abuse, I was able to completely let go of my mother without any anxiety, without looking back, without regret. I had to learn that forgiving someone does not mean enabling them, it does not mean becoming vulnerable to their abuse. I had to learn that sometimes forgiveness does not come instantly, it is a learning process. I am learning to let go. For many years, especially early in my marriage, I would hear other girls my age speak of their moms with so much love, adoration, and respect, and it would make me angry. I was angry that I did not have those experiences. I felt ripped off, jipped. But, I began to grow up. When I has in my second pregnancy and found out I was having a girl, I was so excited, yet so afraid. I panicked. I had no example of how to love a daughter. I never had that love given. Then the epiphany. I no longer needed to be angry and jealous because of my relationship with my mom. I GOT TO BE THAT MOM! What an exhilarating and freeing experience. My daughter, my Isabelle, will have the opportunity to speak of her mom the way those women did. I pledged right then to be that mom.

I love my daughter. I am also lucky to be blessed with two amazing sons. I remember sitting on a rocking chair when I was 8 months pregnant with my first born child. At that point he knew his name was Spencer. He responded every time I said it. I remember I was wearing a lavender button up shirt. I was sitting talking to a friend, our home teacher, Brian Morgan. I had come to the realization at that moment that this was not my child. I was overwhelmed by the responsibility that I was being given to raise a child of God. He was trusting me with his son. He was trusting me to teach him of Him, to bring him back to His presence. No pressure. I know that every mom thinks that their child is extra special, as did I with Spence. It was different though, more intense. I knew that the Lord was sending me an extraordinary spirit. From the time he was very young he was just more spiritual then most children. It never stopped, and only increased. The night that he was diagnosed with stage four rhabdomyosarcoma, a malignant tumor in his head behind his eye, this validated my feelings. This is a special kid. Those who know Spencer can attest to this. This spirit was meant to do great things on this earth, to fight battles, to win battles, to endure to the end. He reminds me of Ammon. Steadfast and immovable.

Gavin. Oh my Gavin. This child was born to be my tormentor! He was also born to give me moments of breath in suffocating times. He was eight months old when Spence was diagnosed. I felt guilty for leaving him behind. I needed to be with Spencer and when treatments were done I had a two year old boy who was practically raised by Suzi and my dad. He was born cuddling. He loves to snuggle and kiss talk. These three things medicate me. Many nights when I was alone with Gavin and Belle, while Nate took his turn at the hospital, he would snuggle me. He knew I needed him. That little guy, as mischievous as he is, holds my heart. He is my guy. He is my best buddy. My heart flutters when I see his cute little face.