Reflections

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What is Faith?

After much fasting and prayer (and family financial preparation), Ryan quit his job about four months ago. We both felt it was time. He was working what seemed from my perspective to be 16 hours a day, he had too many bosses, and the traveling every week thing got old about year nine (this was year ten).

As I mentioned, we only took that step after much fasting and prayer. Yet, it then took four months for him to secure his first client as an independent contractor. It was right way back in March, but he did not get a job offer until June. And then, of course, there were two offers the same week and then he got to choose the one he liked best. I found myself wondering many times in the past weeks why Heavenly Father didn’t send one of those two offers back in March or April. Ryan says, “Because Heavenly Father knew that this was about as long as you could handle.” I don’t feel I’ve been particularly faithful: I feel that after that initial decision (which I, too, felt good about) I’ve doubted regularly.

I have learned a bit more about faith. Following those initial strong impressions is not faith. Persisting when I no longer see the end, when I no longer feel strong — that’s faith. The phrase “endure to the end” comes to mind.

Nauvoo

We took a “last hurrah” celebratory road trip to Nauvoo, leaving Monday afternoon once the contracts were signed and his start date set. This was a wonderful thing in so many ways. Some miscellaneous thoughts:

  • The down side to free hotels is that sometimes the right hotel is not close to your destination. Driving an hour to and from Nauvoo every morning/evening is not convenient.  (We stayed in Macomb.)
  • Binkie withdrawl is painful for the child and the parent. Taking the binkie away just before a road trip is either genius or insanity. I’m still not sure which it was.
  • Nauvoo has become huge. My son’s experience visiting Nauvoo will be quite different from my childhood experiences.
  • Even a two-year-old can recognize Joseph Smith and learn about his special experience.
  • Even a two-year-old loves to walk around the temple.
  • Two-year-olds do not want to sit and watch videos in the Visitor’s Center. They also do not have a large enough attention span to visit old house and listen to missionaries. (We made it through two and a half the first day and one on the second.)
  • It’s hot this summer.

Eminent Women

While in Nauvoo, we stopped in a fine arts studio and the painter showed us his work in progress: a painting of the eminent men and women that visited Wilford Woodruff in the St. George Temple in 1877 and asked for their work to be done. (See some info about the event here and Mr. Bedard’s painting here.) Anyway, he mentioned that he needed women to be models in his database so when he gets to painting the eminent women who appeared to Wilford Woodruff, he has faces that he can match with the women who were there.

I said, “Sure.” He said that as he took the picture, I should think about what it would have meant. These women, women like Martha Washington, Abigail Adams, Dolley Madison, Jane Austen, and Charlotte Bronte never had the chance to accept the gospel in their lifetimes. They had heard the gospel since their death and come back to ask for their work to be done. As I thought of what it would have meant, I felt the spirit so strongly. How incredible it is that we can do the work for those who have gone before us!

It made me feel closer to those on the other side of the veil. Ryan and I had the chance to do some sealings for the Reid side of the family a few weeks ago, and it is so special to know that those people do (sometimes) accept the work we do for them. They need us!

The Little Things

While we were in Nauvoo, Ryan and I took the chance to go to the temple, first Ryan in the morning, and then me in the afternoon. I admit, we’d been busy in the heat the previous day, and the nice cool air conditioning, the comfortable seats, and the dark room made this a trial for me. Some of my blinks were kind of long. I felt guilty and wondered why I’d taken the time to come to the temple when I couldn’t give my full attention to the service.

At one point, I had the chance to sit right next to the wall, where there are beautiful murals. Right next to me, I could see a fingerprint in a glob of green paint. It was guiding the paint into the midst of the light yellow-green splatters and I could see the texture. It was incredible to see the texture and to realize that if I’d only step back ten feet, those yellow and green splatters would be the beauty of reeds and leaves on the edge of a little pond. Going to the temple, even when not at my most attentive state, was like one of those little splatters. At the end of my life, those little splatters end up a beautiful mural!

I was telling Ryan this very deep thought when he said, “Hmm, that sounds familiar.” Apparently, Elder Bednar already made this connection. Is this why I thought of it? I’d already heard it? At any rate, I get it now.

In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting.

Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes. (from an October 2009 Conference Address)

What If…. I Have to Grow Up?

We’ve been working on “What ifs?” lately, such as wills and life insurance and planning for the future. One major “what if” is “what if I need to get a job?” I’ve realized I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Absolutely nothing interests me. I especially can’t stand the thought of going back to proofreading other people’s writing for 40 hours a week. I hope I can just continue being a stay-at-home mom for the foreseeable future. I don’t want to have to grow up anytime soon.

Binkies Anonymous

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Hi. I am a Binkie Addict. I’ve been binkie free now for five days and five nights now, and it’s still rather painful. Here’s my story.

Mommy and Daddy brought the binkie addiction to my attention on Sunday night, after I played with my binkie in the middle of a fireside at church and wouldn’t put it away. I resisted the title of “binkie addict” and I cried when Mommy said it was about time I stopped using the binkie. I kept my binkie that night and didn’t let go of it.

In the morning, Mommy told me it was time to stop using because I’m a big boy now and should not continue to cater to this addiction. She gave me the responsibility to throw my two binkies away when I felt I was ready to be a big boy. She said when I did, we’d call Grandma Peggy and tell her that I’m a big boy. I thought about it for a few minutes and decided that yes, I wanted to be a big boy, and I wanted to tell Grandma Peggy I was a big boy. I threw away both of my binkies.

Mommy was really excited. Apparently, it was only 7:30 a.m. and she didn’t think I’d be so eager to be a big boy so early in the morning! She didn’t realize that that is the easiest time to be a big boy. I’m awake and happy, and I certainly don’t feel a binkie craving when I’m happy. I don’t need my binkie when I’m not tired. I watched Mommy take out all the garbage in the house and I stood by the window for a while, hoping that the garbage man would come so I could see his truck. (He didn’t come.) We had to wait another hour or so to call Grandma because it was just too early still. I was excited and couldn’t wait to tell Grandma my big boy news. She was excited for me too.

I had a fun morning playing with toys. But I bumped my head on something about 10:30 and that’s when I realized what being a big boy meant: I asked Mommy if I could have my binkie, and she said there was no more binkie. Wow, that was hard.

At about 1 or 2, I wanted my rest time in my room. But once again, there was no binkie. Oh, the withdrawl was so painful that first day! I cried and cried. I searched in every garbage in the house looking for my binkies. But the garbage cans were all empty. I remembered watching Mommy take out the trash and felt very sad.

In the afternoon, Mommy said we were going on a road trip in the car. (I’ll tell you about our trip later.) We would be driving to a big hotel with a big big bed just for me! I was so excited, and I helped Mommy pack the bags. Daddy started driving the car and it took about 20 minutes to realize that when I asked for my binkie, Mommy wouldn’t give it to me. I screamed for hours, and I would only calm down when Mommy was telling me stories. I can’t tell you how sad it made me to know I would not have my binkie. I think I fell asleep in sheer exhaustion.

Tuesday was a busy, busy day. I didn’t bother to ask for my binkie because I knew Mommy didn’t have it. Besides there was so much to see. There were barns full of cows and roosters and horses and lions, and I liked to make all their noises. I saw old houses with interesting things to look at. I played games. I saw pictures of Joseph Smith and Jesus. I looked around at everything new. It was only when the sun went down that I thought of the binkie again. Mommy and I were walking around the Temple — it was so pretty — and Daddy was taking pictures. Mommy said we’d be going back to the big hotel with the big big bed and we’d get some sleep. I was sleepy! I asked Mommy then, but I knew the answer: “But my binkie?” She said, again, that there was no binkie. I suppose it didn’t matter. I was so sleepy. I fell asleep in the car again.

Wednesday was another busy busy day with lots of new things. It was when were driving home and I could tell the sun was going down that I started asking for my binkie again. I knew it wasn’t coming, but I was so bored and so sleepy, I couldn’t help asking. Mommy did not feed my addiction.

Thursday was a hard night. The day was fine; I never mentioned my binkie because there was no point. But when Mommy put me in bed at 7:30, I could not sleep. I was in my own room and in my own bed, and the binkie is such a part of my routine that it was hard to do without it.  I kept bouncing down to talk to Mommy and Daddy who were watching a movie. I didn’t go to sleep until after 10.

Last night was the same. I cried and cried and cried. I pleaded. I whined. I pulled Mommy’s hand. It was probably 9:30 before I got to sleep. I was just so uncomfortable and sad. I know Mommy’s insistence that there is no more binkie is true, but it doesn’t make the withdrawl any less painful. My question now is: how long will it be before I can go to sleep without feeling so sad, without the craving for the binkie?

I know I am a big boy, but I’m glad I can tell you all the hardships of being a big boy. Habits are hard to break, and this addiction, particularly, has been hard since I’m nearly three years old. Three years is a long time to have a bad habit!

Teasing

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The other night, I was in the other room while Paul and Daddy laughed and played. After a little while, Paul came in to find me.

“Mommy,” he said in a toddler whine. “Daddy stole my nose!!”

“Tell him to give it back,” I responded, trying to surpress a laugh.

From the other room, I could hear Paul repeating this request to Daddy. Daddy, being the joker that he is, said, “I can’t. I ate it.”

I went in a moment later to see Paul with his definitive sad face (lip protruding as far as it would go) and the saddest little look on his face. Apparently, this was pretty serious.

I let him steal my nose too, and all was well. Still, I’ll never forget that little toddler tattle-tale whine: “Daddy stole my nose!!”

Joy in Womanhood

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I’ve written a dozen of posts in my head and I’ve started a few posts for this site and yet somehow they never get posted! Any internet time I’ve found has gone to my public blog, where for many reasons, I am not going to post my innermost personal thoughts. Here are some concepts that I’ve been pondering for a long time, and much like all the other things I’ve wanted to share lately (and never have), it involves my testimony.

Lately, I’ve felt like rejoicing in being a woman. As a woman, I know my role and it is a wonderful one. In so many places in the world, I am told that I am the same as a man, that accepting (and purporting) a gender-specific role to be a nurturer is a demeaning thing for women, and that women should “aim higher” and not be limited or taught to be any different than men. I wholeheartedly disagree, especially that ignoring female-specific gender roles is “aiming higher.” Women, and girls, should nurture gender-specific roles.

As a woman, I have a specific “meaning, purpose, and direction.” I delight in that knowledge. My favorite line from the Relief Society Declaration is that I “find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood.” That I do, and I delight in the opportunity to declare to other girls and woman around the world that such roles are divine.

Some would say that I am an anti-feminist by those statements. On the contrary, I consider myself a feminist in every sense of the word. See these definitions (from Merriam-Webster.com):

Feminist: (1) the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes; (2) organized activity on behalf of women’s rights and interests

Women should be politically, economically, and socially equal to men. Whether a woman runs for office, votes for office, buys a house, opens a bank account, or enters a workplace or community environment, she should not be discriminated against and limited. However, women should not be the same as men.

I wish to shout from the rooftops that being a womanly woman is the greatest thing in the world, that being different from men is a wonderful thing. I am a part of the world’s largest woman’s organization, and it certainly supports women’s interests: Relief Society. We women should nurture our own abilities to nurture, for it makes the world so much stronger. Women that know their divine roles are women that truly do “find joy in womanhood.”

In reading over the talks from the last conference, I have found that so many of them are about mothers, motherhood, women’s roles, being a parent, and teaching the rising generation. I loved Sister Beck’s talk from the last general conference, and I find myself reviewing it often.

A good woman must constantly resist alluring and deceptive messages from many sources telling her that she is entitled to more time away from her responsibilities and that she deserves a life of greater ease and independence. But with personal revelation, she can prioritize correctly and navigate this life confidently.

Women are not, therefore, entitled to “me” time, although of course we all need to keep our sanity. We live in an “entitlement” culture; it’s not the Lord’s way. His way is to serve, enduring to the end. And then Sister Beck quotes Sister Eliza R. Snow in a quote that I should frame and put over my bathroom mirror:

Women should be women and not babies that need petting and correction all the time. I know we like to be appreciated but if we do not get all the appreciation which we think is our due, what matters?

The sister I visit for visiting teaching pointed out that women who are abused and/or neglected by her husbands should not feel that they are in the wrong. And as I mention above, women do need to keep sanity and being stranded in a house with, say, a few screaming children for five days a week definitely would drive the best of us insane. But in my case, where I have a husband who dotes on me and takes very good care of me, helps out around the house, and otherwise is the most wonderful man alive, I certainly need this reminder. I get plenty of “me” time.

I admit that I sometimes act like a baby. I don’t want to cook dinner yet again. I don’t want to change yet another poopy diaper. (Yes, after two months of being partially toilet trained Paul is back to no toilet and all diapers.) I don’t want to be the one that is responsible. I want to be coddled and I want someone else to do the dirty work so I can get back to my book (oops, did I say that outloud?!).

But the fact is, I delight in being a mother. I sincerely do “find nobility in motherhood.” I delight in cuddling my son and reading him stories and taking him on walks. I can’t get one (the fun stuff) without the other (the responsibility). Our husbands choose jobs they like, but those jobs aren’t always fun. It is work. And we sure do like payday.

Anyway, this weekend, as I ponder all the responsibilities I have and the ways in which I want to better magnify this eternal job of mine (that is, being a mother), I want to rededicate myself to doing the small, sometimes unpleasant stuff with the nobility of motherhood in mind. Changing those diapers and cleaning the toilets is a part of that noble task.

“Women should be women and not babies that need petting and correction all the time…”

The great thing, but also the not so great thing, about not posting on this site very frequently is that few are going to read this or comment. I like knowing that I can post my testimony in a place where I know it isn’t going away, for my strong feelings of delight at being a woman aren’t about to change. I’d love to hear from you if you are still reading this blog, although please note that I don’t intend to debate women’s roles or feminism in general. I am sharing my testimony of my role and my love of the Lord Jesus Christ.

What do you most love about womanhood and motherhood? What talks about motherhood from the last general conference stood out to you?

We are beloved spirit daughters of God,
and 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 women 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.
  • Dedicate ourselves to strengthening marriages, families, and homes.
  • Find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood.
  • Delight in service and good works.
  • Love life 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.

Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul’s Visit: A Trip to Wisconsin and the Train Museum

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On the Monday morning when Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul were here (Memorial Day), we went to Wisconsin! We were going to go somewhere closer to home, but it was pouring rain so we drove an hour and spent some time at Lake Geneva. It was not raining in Wisconsin. I liked the playground we played at!

I also had fun walking down the board walk with Grandma, Papa, Mommy, and Daddy.

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It was really sunny, so I didn't want to open my eyes!

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We are a happy family!

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I love Daddy!

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I'm glad Grandma can keep track of Billy by holding on to his leash!

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On our way home from Lake Geneva, we went to the Train Museum! I had asked about it all day. “Train Museum now?” I kept saying. I was glad when we finally went there.

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I got to ride on a train!

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Even better, I got to ride on Grandma Peggy's lap while we rode on the train!

I had so much fun with Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul!

ETA Dec 2011: Post has been post-dated to reflect date pictures were taken. Originally posted July 2010.

Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul’s Visit: A Night and Day in Chicago

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Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul came to stay with me! I had so much fun with them that I still keep talking about them!

We spent a lot time in the car the first night. But that’s because we went to Chicago. We walked down the street to go to dinner together. Grandma Peggy gave me a puppy that we called Billy. I wore Billy on my back and Grandma held on to his leash so Billy wouldn’t get lost while we walked around. there were so many things to look at, I forgot to look at where I was going! But I  knew Grandma was right there with me.

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I was pretty tired after dinner. I got to sleep in a big soft cozy bed all by myself!

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Mommy says she wants me to put in this picture of Navy Pier. She says she took it when she and Grandma and Daddy went for a walk. I didn't see it because I stayed at the hotel and slept in that nice big bed! (Grandpa stayed with me.)

The next morning, I woke up and I was still in the nice big cozy bed! I hadn’t fallen out!

It was a special day because then we went to ride on a boat! I was very excited to see the boat. The walk to get to the boat seemed to take forever and I wanted to be carried. Mommy says it was four blocks. Is that a lot?


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We got on the boat and it was exciting!

Then I was ready to get off. Mommy laughed and said that it had only been five minutes and it was a 90 minute tour. That sounded like a very long time!

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I played with my sunglasses.

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I looked at the water.

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I sat on Mommy's and Daddy's and Grandma Peggy's and Papa Paul's laps.

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Mommy and Daddy and Grandma Peggy took pictures of buildings. Some person was talking about the buildings. I was bored, for the most part. But then we got off the boat and went and ate food! And then we went in a car again. We drove to a Museum called the Museum of Science and Industry.

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I had fun seeing a big tractor

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and I loved the cow. Cows say "Moo!"

I also saw a huge train and a huge airplane. I got to go in both of them. Mommy didn’t take pictures, though. Silly Mommy!

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I also saw a fun toy train set. I watched it for a long time.

Then we went home. That was the end of our day in Chicago. I slept well that night, even if I wasn’t in that huge bed anymore.

ETA (Dec 2011): Post has been post-dated to reflect date pictures were taken. Originally posted July 2010.

Mother’s Day (2 1/2 Year) Pictures

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On Mother’s Day (almost two months ago already), I dressed Paul in the suit I’d found at a thrift store and took some pictures of my adorable little man. Yes, this suit is far too big. I’ve put it away for another year or so until it will fit him properly. But I did get some pictures!

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Paul playing a toot-a-roo.

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ETA (Dec 2011): Post has been post-dated to reflect date pictures were taken (originally posted July 2010)

Paul’s Reading

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I like to read and I’ve been wanting to make reading with Paul a special project, so I decided to read 1000 different books with Paul before he starts kindergarten. I started last December, and I though it would be hard. 1000 book sounds like a lot! But just a few months later, we’re almost to 300. It’s so easy to add a few more picture books to the library bag when we’re there, and Paul has loved going through all the books and finding new favorites. We read most books (of those 300) more than three times before returning them to the library, and a handful each week are read more than a dozen times. He loves to read!

I’ve been taking lots of videos of Paul reading his books. Here are just two. The first is the very first one I took, back in January, when I found him, unexpectedly, emptying the library bag to read the books himself. Paul is reading an opposite book and Little Boy by Allison McGhee. That second book refers to a big box on each page, and I think I can hear Paul saying “big box.” Video taken January 25, 2010.

And then, here is my absolute favorite video. Paul is reading himself Chicka Chicka Bom Boom. He loves the pages at the beginning and end with the letters. And you’ll notice his sensitivity to others: he kisses the letters better when they get ouchies. His favorite letter is blacked-eyed P. He also loves BOOMing. Video taken about April 2, 2010.