one year later

I hope everyone — mommies, daughters, sisters, aunts, teachers, friends — everyone — had such a good Mother’s Day. I love this holiday. Mine was wonderful — filled with contentment, laughter, and relaxing. I got to sleep in this morning, and when it was time for me to get up and get ready for church, Richard sent Lizzy barreling over to my bedside, brandishing a gift (dark chocolate and a Target gift card, woot) and hollering, “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!” I’ve never had a more wonderful wake-up call than that; I thought my heart would burst when I heard that coming from my sweet little girl.

As for the previous post — you guys are so right. It does happen to everyone. And the next day is always better! My children are so very precious to me, and while we get sick of each other every so often, it’s all worth it — because this sweet, fleeting time we have together while they are young is so invaluable, so beautiful, so worth it. Nothing makes me happier than spending time with my family, and oh, how I love them.

A year ago today, we were in Logan. I was hugely pregnant (have we reached a point in our relationship where I can post a picture of my giant baby belly? hope so). Richard had just completed his Masters. Lizzy wasn’t yet two years old. We were standing on the edge of a new career, of a new baby, of a new home, of a whole new can of experiences, and we were so unsure of so much — but one thing we did know, and that was that we loved God, we loved each other, and that was enough.

It still is.

it’s easter sunday

I hope yours is a joyful one, filled with the the hope of the Savior’s resurrection, the wonder of the words, “He is not here: for he is risen” — and the promise of everlasting life for us all.

thankful

Today I’m thankful for two beautiful little girls who napped for more than two hours — at the same time.

I argue with myself almost every day about whether to put Maren in the crib or in my bed. We co-slept with Lizzy until she was four months old and loved it, but we were all ready for it to be over when it was over. Now Maren is almost five months old, and I don’t think either one of us is ready for it to be over. So why not? (Don’t answer that question.)

Today I’m thankful that, despite the craziness of being a temporarily “single” mother, I’ve been able to carve out some crafty time. It keeps me bouncy. And beautifully designed fabrics. I’m thankful for those, too — and for that gorgeous buttery afternoon autumn light.

Today I’m thankful for the eleventh chapter of Third Nephi in the Book of Mormon, where the Savior shows himself to the people of the Americas. It is transcendent in its beauty and wonder. My heart fills with peace each time I read it.

Today I’m thankful for my amazing husband, who will be on my doorstep in approximately twenty-three days. Oooh, I’m so excited! (I love this picture of him. He recently asked me to mail that shirt to him; when it arrived and he put it on, it was met with exclamations from his buddies of, “[Our last name] is a hippy!! I KNEW IT!!!”

and then i knew — it’s all you, mama

It was nearing midnight in a lonely South Carolina parking lot when I finally had that moment of truth. Until then, there had always been someone there — a cry, a phone call, a whisper away — someone who, if I really needed it, could come and rescue me. But there I was, alone in a rented minivan with two hungry, crying babies in uncomfortable car seats, exhausted from two flights that took us to the other side of the country, nervous and excited about finally seeing Richard in the morning, worried that I wouldn’t be able to find the hotel — let alone something to eat at midnight — in an unfamiliar city, and how the #$*% do I turn on the headlights?!

I wanted my husband. I wanted my mom. I wanted my dad, my sister, my brothers, my best friend, my Relief Society president — I wanted all those people who had been there for me so faithfully and so unquestioningly through it all. I wanted help — someone to secure the car seats, someone to calm the girls, someone to navigate, someone to talk to. In that moment, gripping the steering wheel in the rental car parking lot, trying to work up the nerve to start the engine, I had that irrational and overwhelming but very real feeling that the world was about to stop. I just couldn’t do it, and that was it.

But in the very next moment, a voice of comfort came: no, you can do it. You have to do it. No one is going to do this for you. There is simply no other way; it’s got to be you.

And then I did it. I started the car. I turned on the headlights. I found us something to eat. I found the hotel. I set up the crib. I found the missing blankie. I got the girls to sleep. I took a shower. And then I went to sleep, too.

It’s strange that such an epiphany should happen just hours before I got to see my sweet husband again, the person on whom I have depended the most these past six years. But the Lord works in incredible and indeed, mysterious ways — teaching us how strong we can really be if we will rely on Him. He’s always there — a whisper and a thought away — and He can speak peace to our minds, helping us do what may seem insurmountable at the moment.

Here we are, ready to rock at the San Francisco airport that morning: a ginormous backpack, two carry-ons, a stroller, and two babies. Yee haw!

june roses

The other day I was feeling a little sad about stuff — you know, husband gone, hormonal rollercoaster, stuff like that — because I will be honest, it’s hard right now. All the same, I have been continually humbled and incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love that continually comes from those around us as well as from the Lord. The phrase “stand all amazed” comes to mind. Things are good, all things considered; incredibly, the blessings keep outweighing the challenges about a billion to one.

Anyway, I was out in the yard with Lizzy and was thinking about how I wish I could have the time and energy to do something crafty. Creativity = life blood. Then I remembered President Uchtdorf’s awesome talk and started thinking about time and creativity a little differently. Then I took a picture of some roses and felt a lot better.

Photos, smiles, snuggles — they all count. It’s a beautiful thing.

apple pie weekend

This weekend we are definitely meeting our “apple a day” requirements around here.

A few nights ago I finished re-reading Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. Still my favorite book, ever. Besides being a fantastic and phenomenally written story, it makes me feel so inspired and empowered to make food choices that are good for the health of my family, our society, and the planet.

Next up: Hillary Jordan’s Mudbound. Yesterday was my first day reading it, and the characters already appeared in my dreams last night — it’s just that good.

A beautiful thought from 2 Nephi chapter 7: “Behold all ye that kindle fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks, walk in the light of your fire and in the sparks which ye have kindled.” Those words have been running through my mind these past few days. They lift and encourage my spirit.

small and simple things

We listen to the songs from the Primary Children’s Songbook a lot around here; Lizzy always seems a little happier when there’s music playing, and it’s nice to listen to something so full of truth and light. Besides, there are five CDs — it takes a while to get through them all.

In a quiet moment today, it struck me how all of life’s most basic questions are answered in these simple, beautiful songs: Who am I? Where did I come from? Why are we here and where are we going after we die? (Find answers in the songs here, here, and here.)

I love that the truths of the gospel — of life — are sweet and simple. They aren’t clouded with doubt and shadow; rather, in their simplicity, even small children can learn them and feel of their truth for themselves. I love those simple gospel truths, and I also feel them myself every time I listen to those songs. Hooray for the songbook! Find the text to all the songs and download MP3s here.

favorite things

1. Last night’s 10 pm McFlurry. I got home from choir rehearsal at 9:45, remembered my earlier craving for a vanilla soft-serve something, and hmmed and haaed for a while before finally getting back in the car and heading straight for those golden arches. I think Richard was trying to give the impression of neutrality on the subject while secretly emanating pro-McDonald’s vibes; he didn’t say much while I was trying to decide, but on my way out the door, he innocently asked, “Oh, and could you get me a hamburger?”

2. Sissel’s gorgeously clear, delectably piercing, hauntingly lovely music. I succumbed to some early Christmas CD checkouts at the library this week and scored MoTab’s Spirit of the Season, on which she is the guest star. And although she doesn’t sing in it, Wexford Carol (watch it here) is a piece I could listen to all day, every day, until Christmas comes. Or just about.

3. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Pie Society, a new novel about life and love on the post-WWII Channel Island of Guernsey. It manages to be light without being trivial — and serious without being too grave — a nice balance. AND it’s totally clean, which, as you know, is not always something to be found in your average bestselling novel.

4. Richard’s idea for a high chair: The Baby Cubicle. It has high walls of plexiglass with a small sliding window at the front, through which you can serve your child food. No more food on the floor — just on the cubicle walls! We could totally get rich off of that.

5. President Monson’s recent General Conference message, Finding Joy in the Journey. I re-read it today and felt so encouraged by all the little reminders to savor life, just as it is, right now. A favorite snippet: “Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey, and share our love with friends and family.” I love the word relish.

6. Midwives, midwives, midwives. What a warm, wonderful, courageous group of women! I’ve been talking and e-mailing with a lot of them over the past few weeks; the final decision has yet to be made, but things are shaping up for a home waterbirth (barely contained squeal of excitement)! I’ve been meeting more and more women who have chosen or plan to choose homebirth — and are so very happy about it. For a great source of information on the safety and benefits of homebirth, check out this site or watch this documentary.

7. A new record: 115 hits on Wednesday!!! WOOHOO!!! Thank you, loveys!