Feeling Seen

2019-03-032019-03-03

...Esther crawled off, stood in front of me with her belly relaxed and her cheeks puffed under her eyes, and looked at me, locked right on my eyes. I looked back at hers and felt a pulse of something straight to my center and down to my toes. A physical feeling. Love, connection, vulnerability, all those things....

The other day I was sitting on the floor by my bed while the kids were jumping onto it.

Esther crawled off, stood in front of me with her belly relaxed and her cheeks puffed under her eyes, and looked at me, locked right on my eyes.

I looked back at hers and felt a pulse of something straight to my center and down to my toes. A physical feeling. Love, connection, vulnerability, all those things.

In those moments we were entirely present, enough to exchange a split second something that felt surprisingly important.

A reminder maybe, that they see me. More than I think.

Or that I see them. That I am really present, really listening, and that they are too. Even just for that moment. I wonder if it lights them up inside like it does for me. Hyrum often wraps me in a hug when I look him in the eyes, like a core reaction to feeling seen.

It’s a powerful thing to let ourselves be really present with others. Love, connection, vulnerability, all those things. Even just a simple recognizing, acknowledging, and BEING SEEN. It’s powerful.

Have you noticed how much more content others seem when we look them in the eyes? (kids and spouse included). When we really SEE them?

Not in passing, not in prodding, not in asking, just when the option is there?

It’s a beautiful thing, and one I want to do more of.
#mamanotes

Seven

2019-02-042019-02-04

Dear Ava,

It seems you’ve been seven long before today. Sometimes I forget how little you are. You recall little details, understand big things, and make friends of adults too.

But you’re still little.

The other day you had a meltdown about something I can’t remember, and as I held you in my lap you held your hands out to keep your sparkly nail polish from smearing. They are so little still.

You are colorful and fun and seem so much to want to connect your heart with others. You love creating and painting, wrestling on the bed, and you love to learn from stories. You can’t get enough stories.

I was surprised with your birthday request this year. I guess I figured you’d be interested in other things, but sure enough you twirl on your toes and love to take pictures, like me.

You asked for a camera for your birthday, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. You’ve been taking pictures all weekend, carefully selecting your favorites and deleting all the rest. All the while repeating things like, “Oh mom I just love this camera so much!” and “I’m just so happy I have this.”

We are so much alike— the way we dance for a pick me up, thrill in the sunshine, and cuddle up for books and good words.

I love spending this time with you.

You are light to me you know. Brilliant, beautiful light. You seem to be drawn to it too, soaking up every bit of truth and really recognizing it. I’ve thought often how quickly a soul can grow once here, because I’ve seen it in you. I’m sure you were much prepared in heaven.

You are ready to be here, Ava. Ready to do your part in this great time of times. That part will be important, I’m sure. I feel it in your excitement for life, your thrill for learning, and your testimony of truth.

Just glad you are still little, still growing, and that I still get to be a part of that.

We love you dearly Ava. You are a gift to the world and a beacon of light. Please keep sharing. Keep gathering that light and shine it like you do.

All my love,

Mom

#mamanotes #birthdayletters

Walls

2018-12-132018-12-13

I sat against the wall in the hallway, resting for a minute while Hyrum finished his bath. Ava sat next to me while I opened my scriptures. “It’s been a few days since we’ve read and I’m feeling it,” I said. “Want to read some?”

She sat close to me and laid her head on my lap as I read. She was tired too. (We’re struggling for earlier bedtimes.)

We bathed and dressed everyone, and I prayed that I would find one of the twins’ shoes. We lost one at home and one at church last week and were left with two left ones. I tilted the basket down from the shelf and a bunch of their shoes and socks came tumbling out. I gathered the shoes and socks from the floor and under the crib where they had fallen, and found that all the shoes were there, all except for the one lost at church. I felt it was a gift and said a prayer of thanks.

We searched for snacks, handed out toys, read books, cleaned up messes, and tried our best to quiet our kids during church. In the middle of meetings I walked the rooms in search of the shoe and prayed again. I felt drawn to a little nook in the coat closet and found the little blue shoe behind some snow boots.

I was tired, and so grateful.

I sat in class next to some kind older women as some thoughts were shared. The teacher read the same scripture that I had read earlier with Ava and tears filled my eyes.

“Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee… Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”

Those words went into my heart and I felt the truth of them. They filled me from the inside out. They were no longer just words of scripture, they were words to me— words from heaven that I needed to hear.

A wise friend once spoke of these walls. She said that it brought her great comfort to think of the Lord standing by her, seeing the same walls—challenges, struggles, and experiences—as her.

I am certain that Jesus Christ is so aware of us, even with us, in the things we are experiencing—loving, strengthening, and teaching us as we struggle, and when we let Him—even in the small things. It’s all things wonderful and so many things hard raising little ones, and I especially felt that love today.

#mamanotes

It’s Alright Mom

2018-12-062018-12-06

I pulled up to Ava’s dance studio six minutes late, again (and again and again ). As she crawled over the backseat to the door I said to her, “I’m sorry Ava, please tell your teacher I’m sorry that you’re late. Someday your mother will get you here on time.”

I had such a heaviness of heart. I was dragging behind on so many things and had a hard time holding up against the whines and tears and messes overlapping all day. I had just listened to a twenty minute meltdown about not having enough goldfish for a snack and if I could have, I would have slumped to the floor of my suv while dropping her off late, again.

All is well, it really is, but some days are just really hard to hold up, despite that.

Ava leaned over to open the door and responded in a kind voice, “It’s alright mom.”

If you can picture the kindness in her eyes, it was just what I needed.

She offered me the mercy I was withholding from myself and I marveled at the simple power of it to help me see what I was really lacking— not effort, but grace. I’m still going to try to be on time to her class next week, but I’m going to try to adopt her kindness in the meantime, even for myself. #mamanotes

Settling

2018-11-29

We got back from our trip late Saturday night and it was so wonderful, I still can’t believe we were able to experience all that and I am excited to share some of that too (once I get my bearings again :). The last few days we’ve been settling back into things at home and it has definitely taken some settling.

Monday I watched as the dishes piled and the floor decorated with clothes and things strewn from our bags and cupboards and bins. I moved slowly preparing meals and caring for the kids and rested between the carpet and the couch while my kids took turns needing me. I was tired too. We all let go with feelings that needed to be felt and comforted. We cycled through many meltdowns over small things, that were probably an accumulation of bigger things, and I was calm inside, having already created space for this, ignoring all the other to-do’s. Today was just for this.

At one point Ava was quite upset and I gave her the option to rest in her room and color or to cuddle on the couch with me, and she stewed for a minute, then came running toward me with her arms out and her eyes still closed in tears. She fell asleep cuddled next to me like that.

Every time they needed me, I was there, or tried to be, and I rejoiced in being home with them, as tired as I was. I missed them so.

So while our house unraveled some, we grew together more, and perhaps refilled some too.

It was a day off the treadmill and apart from much of any fun “doing” or getting “done,” and it was also a day of strong emotions and tears for all of them, so it surprised me when at the end of the day Ava said in her prayers, “Thank you for this wonderful day and for all our wonderful days.”

She went on to say thanks for many more things and I felt too, what a gift it was. #mamanotes