The other day I showed my young neighbor how to take pictures with my “big camera”. I love what she captured. No make-up, patched knee-d, farmers tanned, mothering me. This is totally me. And I couldn’t be happier.
Category Archives: Everyday
Encouraged by Her
In moments of calm or quiet, I am drawn to my comfy couch to read. I have a hard time reading novels. I love to read them, and I do read them from time to time, but I have difficulty lending my time to them. Lately I’ve been reading this book here and there, and every time I retreat to my comfy couch to read, I am excited to read this one.
It’s a book about Marjorie Pay Hinckley, the wife of the late prophet Gordon B. Hinckley. He was the prophet while I was growing up, and oh how I admired this sweet couple! It has been interesting and all the while inspiring to catch glimpses into the life and heart of Sister Hinckley. When I read it, I come away feeling uplifted, encouraged, inspired, and refreshed. She’s refreshing, I guarantee it. It helps me put everyday life in the right perspective. Sounds like a great book huh? Maybe you will read it too. 🙂
But if you don’t ever get to it, I want to share just a few quotes from the chapter on motherhood and the one before that. Some are pieces of advice, some are just encouraging. I feel like similar things would be said by my own mother or mother-in-law, but I don’t have many of their words in writing.
So often when I read these I think, “Yes! Thank you. I feel better now,” or “That’s a great idea, I think I’ll try to do that more.” Perhaps you will too.
“We have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove anything, to be what we are.” p.75
“Jewish women have a wonderful way of bidding each other goodbye. They say, “Have joy in your children.” And so I say to you, “Have joy in your mothering,” whether you are the mother, the aunt, the grandmother, the next-door neighbor. We all have the opportunity to be an influence for good.” p.52
“I think I felt something of your frustration and challenge to be the perfect mother. Relax. There is no such thing as the perfect mother who fits all the eulogies. We just do the best we can with the help of the Lord, and who knows, these children who are struggling to be free may someday rise up and call us blessed.” p.61
“The trick is to enjoy it. Don’t wish away your days of caring for young children. This is your great day. Sometimes we get so caught up in the physical work and trivia that we forget the big picture. We forget whose children they really are. When the house is filled with children, noise and teasing, and laughter, you get the feeling this is forever. Before you know it they will be gone. When our second son went away to school at the age of seventeen, I said, ‘But Clark, I am not through with you. I feel there is so much I will need to teach you.’ ‘Too late, Mother, too late.’ Our children grow so quickly out of our reach.” p. 61
“Praise your children more than you correct them. Praise them for even their smallest achievement.” (Quoting the prophet Ezra Taft Benson) p. 57
When in doubt, “save the relationship.” p.56
Kathleen Hinckley talking about learning from her mother in law: “You have to trust children. I tried hard never to say “no” if I could possibly say “yes.” I think that worked well because it gave my children the feeling that I trusted them and they were responsible to do the best they could.” p. 55
“Children rise higher when they are treated with respect.” p.53
“We have a great responsibility to our children. Find joy in them. Don’t over schedule them or yourself.” p.75
“The rewards of mothering are not immediate. There are times when you are less than appreciated. I took from the oven one day what I thought was a beautiful casserole, only to have my six-year-old son say, ‘Mom, how come you baked the garbage?’ Then there is the unexpected hug, when you least deserve it. And while you are enjoying these days of mothering, be sure that your demands on your children for perfection are not so heavy that they cannot be children. ” p.61
And this last one that I want to share, I really appreciated.
One of Marjorie’s daughters shared a story of when she was young and they had a program at school in the lunchroom. All the children sat in chairs waiting for their mothers to arrive. She watched the mothers walk in, and noticed that the mother that came in before her own “was wearing spiked heels and a darling dress and had all of this foofy hair.” She said she looked young and beautiful. Then she looked up to see her mother come through the same door. She remembered, “With that instant juxtaposition, I will never forget the flood of security and happiness I felt when I saw her–no foofy hair or spiked heels, not very young or very beautiful, dressed in her typically tidy housedress. There was a warm, comfortable feeling and the thought clear as neon: ‘Oh I’m so glad that my mother looks like a real mother! Whatever would a person do if her only mother wore darling dresses and had painted fingernails?'”
When I think of my own mother, I don’t think about the way she looks. I could consider her soft, youthful skin, or her kind, comforting eyes. She is lovely and beautiful, yes, but mostly I too feel a warmth, a reassurance even when I think about her. She is beautiful because she is my mother. That’s comforting to me because often I see pretty faces, pretty clothes, and pretty houses, and I wonder if I should be doing more to be like that. In my head I know it’s not necessary, but the draw to compare and leave yourself trailing behind is so easy.
The reality is, I am trying my best to be real, and kind and nurturing. And I love my kids with everything I’ve got. That’s all it takes to be beautiful to them, and that’s all I have to be.
Didn’t you just love these messages from Marjorie Hinckley? I feel encouraged by her and I don’t even know her personally! It’s worth reading the whole book. Some day I may feel seasoned enough to give mothering advice, but for now I am very much on the receiving end. And I’m ok with that.
When he does the dishes.
I was at the sink washing dishes when Jake came home.
“It smells so good in here.”
“Your soup is in the microwave, I just reheated it for you.”
He moved aside the kids’ dinner plates and set his bowl on top of the crumbs.
“How was work?
“It was good.”
“Was it busy?”
“Yeah there’s a lot to do, but not as busy as I thought it was going to be.”
“That’s good.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m doing ok. I don’t know why, I’m just struggling today… I work so hard at one thing, and then feel bad for neglecting all the other things. I’ve been working on this one thing a lot today, and the kids have been needing me left and right. And I start feeling all tense because I can’t get this thing done and then I feel totally guilty because maybe I should have been giving them more attention…And these plates have been sitting at the bottom of the sink for a week and I still can’t get to them. Why can’t I just wash these plates?”
I went on.
He listened as he ate his soup. “You’re doing great. You’re doing so great.”
“Then why don’t I feel that way?”
He rinsed his bowl off in the sink, grabbed an apron from the drawer, and put his arm around me. “Go lie down on the couch for a bit. I got this.”
He started washing and I started picking up the toys and clothes and shoes in the family room, because we all know I can’t really rest until everything’s picked up and done.
When the room was clean I walked over to where the carpet meets the kitchen floor. “I’m sorry for kind of messing up our date night. I’ve just had a lot going on and a lot on my mind. I haven’t gotten ready or anything.”
He turned to face me as he rinsed another plate. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not messed up, just go upstairs and put on your nice jeans and braid your hair or something. You look great.”
I changed my clothes and started braiding my hair in the bathroom near the kitchen. My hair was knotted from being in and out of a bun for a few days, not ideal for a french braid. I got halfway down my head, my fingers weaved through my hair to hold the braid in place, and a giant snarl was balled up underneath. I walked over to Jake at the sink, one hand with a brush and the other still tangled in my hair. “Can you help me?”
He dried his hands and carefully separated, pulled, and brushed until the strands were free and I could finish my braid.
“Thank you.”
I finished braiding, and he finished washing.
He then showered and got dressed and met me on the family room floor where we raced each other laying cards down in a few games of speed (he won every time) and argued over whose hand slapped the pile first in Egyptian Rat’s Crew (I won). We raised our voices and threw out accusations and couldn’t keep from laughing every time those sevens came around and we had to slap the pile again. We pushed the boundary on card-slapping hand hovering, if there ever was one.
Then we cleaned up the cards and searched Netflix. He got the snacks and drinks, and we settled on a drama because last time he got to choose it. It was long. We cuddled under a blanket and tried our best to stay awake.
We ended the night with I love you, the kind that means “I’m grateful for you, I really care about you, and I’m really glad I get to go through life with you.”
When we first got married I wondered when our giddy in love, couldn’t stop thinking about each other, honeymoon-phase would end. Not because I wanted it to, just because I heard it always does. Married life is hard, they’d say. It’s great, but it gets real and it takes work. People congratulated us on our wedding, then sent us on our way hoping that we’d make it work.
And we have. We’ve made it work wonderfully well. I wouldn’t call it giddy in love, and we’re certainly not in la-la land anymore, but I can say with complete honesty that after seven years together I am happier than I’ve ever been and even more in-love with him than I was when we got married, by a long shot. We are complements and companions for each other. It’s great. When he’s down I help him up, and when I’m down, he sits and listens, then does the dishes. We’ve learned how to really help one another, and we’re still learning.
I don’t care if marriage takes work because life with him is sweeter.
Sometimes we sit down and plan our lives together. And we get excited about it! How great it is that we have a companion for everything? –for every road trip and movie night, but also for the hard stuff–the decisions, the parenting, and the self doubt. Life’s hard, and that’s what makes marriage such a blessing, we get to go through everything together–every smooth sail and sour patch. And when things do go sour, we turn to each other, not away, even when we don’t feel like it.
We’re in it for the long haul and couldn’t be happier about it.
Since we’ve been married, I’ve grown in ways I never thought I could, or even needed to. And oh how I’ve needed to! We’ve completely given our lives to each other–melded our lives together, yet I am actually more “me” than I’ve ever been. I understand myself better, my strengths and my weaknesses, and I’m happier too. I’m grateful that it does take work, because in the process of working at it I feel like we are both becoming better people. And maybe I’m still in la-la land on this, but it doesn’t seem much like work anymore.
I’m sure our marriage has its shortcomings, but it’s blessed my life enough to give me some understanding of what purpose it is meant to have, and what a blessing it is meant to be.
Remember how God said “Neither is man without the woman neither the woman without the man in the Lord?” and that we are created that we “might have joy?” These two things go together–perfectly. Marriage is meant to bring us joy because it gives us a committed companion, a loyal friend, and a constant support–especially in parenting. It gives us someone to talk to, to care for, to rely on. Someone who feels the same way too. Marriage gives us someone who knows us the best and loves us the most, someone who helps us see where we can improve, and inspires us to want to do so. And God has ordained marriage, which means that we can have heaven’s help in making it work–making it work wonderfully well.
It is clear to me that this union is more than just a good idea, an elusive goal, or a social construct. It is a divine union for an eternal good, and it is central to the creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. Surely it is not just meant to “work,” but to work wonderfully well.
So I am grateful for marriage and for family life, even when the kids are needy and he doesn’t do the dishes. I’m glad I get to spend forever with them. We are learning and growing in ways we never thought we could, and our joys have never been greater.
Mama Notes
Wrote a few mamanotes from the other day…
By the time the afternoon rolled around yesterday, I was beat. Fortunately the storm rolled in along with it, and Ava was tired too. She liked the idea of chocolate chips and storm watching just as much as I did. So she laid her head on my lap right there on the kitchen floor by the back screen door as the clouds deepened and the breeze thickened with rain. And that was just what we both needed. #mamanotes
I walked into our bedroom after I checked on the kids and turned off the hall light. Jake was in bed laughing to himself. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “I’m just replaying in my head our race with Ava to eat our salads.” Our four year old might have a strong will, but she is always up for a race. Whether it’s a race to brush her teeth, get into bed, or eat her spinach salad, for some reason it works every time! So when she was adamant that she didn’t want to finish her spinach leaves and ranch dip, Jake said to her, “Let’s see who can finish their salads the fastest!” Without hesitation, she grabbed a green leaf, dipped it in the ranch, and threw it into her mouth.
And then the part Jake was laughing about– she looked at us, then with both hands like a bull dozer, wiped her whole pile of spinach through the dip in one swipe and stuffed it all into her mouth.
Jake and I stopped mid-chewing our second bite to see her smiling as best she could with her cheeks stuffed and her lips lined in dressing. Within a minute it was chewed and swallowed, and that little girl creamed us, flat. 😂👏 #mamanotes
Yesterday while Hyrum napped Ava said to me, “I want to play with you Mom.” So play we did. She giggled as she trotted straight towards me hiding behind that trash can. I was sure she peeked while she counted. When she came up to me laughing I said, “Hey, did you peek?” to which she replied with equal laughter, “No I could see your bum sticking out!” 😂👏 I carried her back to the house on my shoulders after a few games of crack the egg and follow the leader on the trampoline. I felt that if there was one good, important thing I needed to do that day, it was that. I feel like we grow closer in these moments than most any other time. And we need it. We will always need it. #mamanotes
And just a few from the day Jake found a little baby bird on our front lawn and we spent part of our family home evening finding worms for it. How did I never know that hose trick?!
Feels Like Spring!
We’ve been opening windows, admiring blossoms, and lying in the grass day after beautiful day. I’ve never loved spring more. 
This cute kitty greets us in the morning and lounges on the grass with us in the afternoons. We love it. Someday we’ll get a cat of our own. Until then, we sure love this one!
Aren’t these lilac blossoms lovely!? I can’t tell you how much I love these little flowers. I can’t stop admiring them and they are everywhere here in North Dakota! We were really hoping that the big bush/tree? outside our kitchen window would have blossoms in the spring, but when the first tiny buds turned into leaves I figured we wouldn’t. After a few weeks we saw the beginnings of these blossoms and I was so excited! They started out dark purple (like the tips in the first picture), then became lighter and lighter every day. Some people have long rows of these bushes in their yard with a wide array of purple shades. I love them!
p.s. Don’t they look like butterflies?!