charles in charge*

I like to ask (and be asked) hard questions. I like the process of thinking things through and coming to conclusions. I like to be able to see both sides of an issue and figuring out where I stand. I don't even mind changing my mind.

But sometimes, I just want to look a pictures of my cute babies. And there are far too few pictures of my baby on here.

Little Charlies is a dream. So calm and mild mannered. A good sleeper. Patient with his older siblings. We all love him. He is smiling and starting to coo. At his two month check up he weighed a hefty 13 pounds and he is already wearing 3-6 months size.  If I would have known how chill he was going to be, it would have saved me some anxiety.

2 weeks old

3 weeks old: taken by Ana

one month

Blessing day: March 1

Blessing day: March 1

Smiling!

sleeping on the floor

2 months old and loves his hand!

...Sigh... I love my baby.


*Anyone else think of THIS theme song? Though we prefer the Scrubs version. (at 2:45)

write now

When I was 8 my sister gave me her old journal. She had used about half of it and it was blue with white geese and hearts on the cover and it had "I {heart} Rolly" written all over the inside cover. I didn't care. I tore out all her used pages and began writing. I wrote about Christmas presents and who won the Super Bowl and crushes and family and church and school and whatever else my little brain thought of.

I kept writing, too. I filled journal after journal. I still have them all in a box in the garage. To date I have filled about 2 dozen journals. Granted, most of my journal writing from the childhood/teenage years are filled with boys. That's all I really thought about in those days. The last 10 years my writing has decreased, but I like to think the material is a little elevated. Sometimes I think about those books tucked away in the garage and I wonder if there really is a point. I don't often go through and read them. Usually when I do I just laugh.

Today I came across my journal from 2011-2013. Ana found it and opened its pages. She opened it to a random spot and started reading it to me aloud. I felt nervous, not knowing which part of my soul she was about to discover. She happened upon an entry about her. It told of how Ana had befriended "the new girl" and welcomed her into her heart, like Ana always does. I wrote about how I felt like Ana was an instrument in the hands of God in helping that little girl and her mother feel loved and I expressed gratitude for Ana's friendly, outgoing nature.

As Ana read the words, her countenance changed. All the frustration she came home with melted away. She blushed and hid her face for a minute. The rest of the afternoon she carried it around and read it. She told me she felt loved and gave me a hug.

A few years ago I had been talking to a friend who had related a really hard experience she had gone through. I had wondered to myself why I didn't feel more inspired to help her at that time. That night I was reading through my journal and I came across an entry when I had called her to see if I could babysit or something and she had declined. I realized in that moment that I had been listening to the Spirit, regardless of her willingness to accept help.

This is why it is so important to write. We write our histories for ourselves and for our children. As we look back, we see strength and goodness and change. It is part of my legacy and their heritage.  The words I wrote changed my daughter. Maybe not permanently, but for an afternoon, she was changed.

Charlie's blessing day family picture

a reflection

I sent this picture to a sister on Sunday. I still need words of affirmation sometimes. Especially when in comes to clothes.

Back in June I wrote about my goal for this decade of my life called "my 30s." I wrote about how I wanted to be comfortable in my own skin and to be more accepting of myself. I am here tonight (for it is 11 pm and the entire family is asleep and I feel the need to write a minute) to report on my progress.

*Right now there is a huge pile of shoes sitting right next to the designated "shoe boxes" by my front entryway. Someone must have been looking for shoes before we rushed out the door to the kids' school this evening. They were having a movie night tonight and the kids wanted to go so we did even though once we were there and the room filled to the brim with children I started to worry a little bit about germs so I put a blanket over Charlie's carseat and hoped he stayed asleep because we were so packed there was no way I would be able to nurse comfortably. (He did sleep, thank goodness.) There is also a pampers-box-turned-rocket-ship, and other random items strewn about the room. My kitchen sink has dishes from after-school snacks and our quick dinner, but all the pots and pans are clean and the dishes in the dishwasher are clean and I got all the laundry folded and into their respective rooms. Plus I attended a Gospel study class, took Katie to the library and kept 4 children alive and happy. The rest can wait til tomorrow.

This was the movie event. You can see Ana in the background (bright yellow shirt.) I love watching her "make the rounds" at events.  She knows and loves everybody. Even the adults.

*I finally have stuff hanging on my living room wall. It took a while for me to figure out what I wanted. Pinterest, despite its bad wrap for making Mommies feel like they are not good enough and the many Pinterest fail blogs, has helped me to "see" my style. Just by pinning stuff that I like, I can look at a board and say: Oh, so that's my style. I like things that mean something to me personally, not just stuff that looks good. I like things that we have gathered, or pictures we have taken, or my children's artwork on display. I like bright colors. I like mismatched chairs around the dining room table and lots of colorful throw pillows and asymmetry. I like random. This has extended to my personal clothing style too. I like long necklaces and bright colors and funky, colorful shoes.  Pinterest helped me to see that.

*I am an aspen tree. I am light and airy and need connectivity and a network in order to thrive. I am a social being and I have to allow myself time to make connections. Real, human connections. And while I sometimes let social media try to fill the void, it usually does the opposite. I am learning to seek out real connections when I am feeling down and unmotivated instead of artificial ones.

*I am a Mary. I always think that in the hour and a half I have while Katie is at preschool that I am going to be super productive and get a bunch of stuff checked off my list. Sometimes I am. Most of the time I read my scriptures and write in my journal for a good portion of it. I get less "done" but I feel so much better. I have had some powerful spiritual insights the last couple weeks as I have done so.

*I am a good-enough-ist (in contrast to a perfectionist.) I heard once the saying "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing just barely." That resonates with me. My housework gets done, but sometimes, just barely. It is still worth doing. Our family nights are not perfect, and sometimes a little thrown together, but it is still worth doing.   I am not saying that I am complacent.  Complacency leaves us empty. But as Mary Poppins says: Enough is as good as a feast.


This is what I have discovered about myself over the last 10 months as I have been on this road to self-discovery and acceptance. I am not saying that these are the only or best ways to be. These are MY ways of being. I am not perfect. I have goals I am working towards like reaching out more to others and running a couple races this summer and I am still working really hard at not raising my voice. (I have been working on that one for about 10 years.)

Look, I even went running. Charlie didn't seem to mind too much

Something interesting is happening too. I am getting better. Not only is accepting myself helping me feel better, it is actually helping me BE better. I am a better person. I am less judgmental towards others. I am warmer to my children. I am less stressed out. I am more charitable. It is becoming easier to stay calm, to forgive, to apologize, and to be patient.  The phrase "to love others you must first love yourself" isn't about being narcissistic. It is about knowing who we are and what we have to offer.

I am not all there. There are days that are full of self-doubt. But I am making progress. And that is enough.