Sassy Girl

I was picking out a card at the store today when I got an important phone call. I was only on the phone for about 5 minutes but the whole time Lauren was competing for my attention and being extremely overbearing. When I got off the phone I was NOT happy with her behavior and proceeded to give her a mini lecture about her "not being the center of the universe."

Her response to this was to tell me in her very sassy tone, "Well,..... I don't like you being my Mommy." I wish I could say that I handled this like a mature parent but the immature side of me won that battle and I found myself blurting aloud:
"Well, I don't like you being my little girl."

I was worried that I may have taken it too far and hurt her feelings, but her next response assured me she would be just fine.

"Well you're the one who had me so you 'get what you get and you don't throw a fit'!"

I was speechless.

Monday Mornings

I light the pumpkin spice candle hoping it's warm aroma will welcome my children down to the breakfast table. Apple streussel muffins are baking in the oven as I pack their lunches for school. I put on soft music to fill our home with the spirit because I remember the feeling of peace that came into our home when my mother played primary songs on the piano. I glance at the clock realizing I need to get upstairs and start waking them up. It brings me back to my own school days. I remember how hard it was to get up on Monday mornings, facing a new day and another week of school. Would it have been easier if I'd had a mother wake me with her warm smile and soft kisses? I think so....but even with my best efforts to sweetly wake my sleeping boys sometimes they're grumpy and don't want to get out of bed- I don't blame them, sometimes I feel like that too.

As I finished up on their lunches I was thinking on these things. Suddenly a feeling of love and compassion came over me. I felt a connection with my children that I haven't felt before. It was a feeling of me being not just their mother but (spiritually speaking) their older sister. Sympathetic to their trials and suffering because I've "been there and done that" not so long ago. I felt the significance of my role as their sister to help ease their burden and smooth their transition into their journey of life. From heaven, to home, to the world. I am the keeper of that gate and my heart aches for them as I think of the world I must send them off into. I hope that the little things I do will soften the sting of the trials they must face. Creating in our home a soft place for them to fall at the end of their day when they're weary from the world.

Nothing hurts me more

Why does it hurt so bad when someone hurts your child?

A few days ago on the way home from school Joseph was in tears as he told me about 2 older boys that were being mean to him at school. One of them was a boy that he thought was really cool so it was especially painful for him (and for me). As he shared with me the details of what they had said I did my best to comfort him but nothing could take away his pain.
Nothing hurts me more than to see my children suffer. I can't get the sound of his voice cracking with pain as he recounted the details of what they had said. I wish there was something I could do-but there isn't, and that hurts.

Taking it like a man

When he hurts himself he calls my name,
tears stream down his dirty cheeks.
If he's far away he screams to his brother...
"Go get Mama!!!"
I come running when I hear his cries
not like the other ones which I try to ignore.
This is a different kind of a cry,
the kind that tells me he's really in pain.
I know there's nothing I can do to make the hurting go away
but still I run to his aid, to hold him, to rock him,
to press his head against my cheek as I whisper in his ear:
"mama's here..., I know it hurts...., I'm so sorry that happened."

Today I was at the park watching the boys ride their bikes over the dirt bike trails.
An older boy in his late teens was there doing jumps & tricks. He fell off his bike coming down from a jump and hit hard, really hard. The mother in me gasped and almost leapt out of my chair to see if he was okay. In obvious pain, he abandoned his bike. Walking off somewhere to be alone. He leaned over behind a tree, I couldn't see if he was crying or not. There were other teenagers there, his friends I think. They watched him walk off but left him alone. Letting him deal with it like a man I suppose. After a minute or two one of the teenage girls followed after him to see if he was okay...

As I watched this unfold I wondered at what point does a boy change from instinctively calling out for his mother to pushing everyone away to inwardly deal with the pain? The boys still call out for me when they're really hurt. It doesn't happen very often anymore because they're getting so tough. But when it does, I come running. Grateful for these moments when my arms and soothing words can bring some degree of comfort to their pain as I wonder upon the day when this will all change.

A little girl and her bottle of lotion

A date with Daddy to the mall, her tiny hand in his.
Walking from store to store they go,
so proud of his little girl.
Patiently she waits as he stops at the apple store
He picks up his new phone,
then takes her to dinner at Cinnabon.
(I love that he confesses this with no hint of shame)
After eating they walk through more stores,
he wants to buy something for his little girl.
Sparkly shoes or pretty clothes?
"Daddy, I love this!" she says to almost everything she sees....
In the end, Bath & Body Works has just the thing;
a little bottle of sweet smelling lotion.
What girl doesn't love a new fragrance?

As I tucked her in bed tonight I couldn't help but smile at this happy little girl holding her little bottle of lotion from her Daddy.

Remember These?

We were camping last week and I kept seeing this thing laying around. The boys were playing with it off and on and finally I got curious and opened it up to see what "fortunes" lied inside.
I smiled when I read them.....Jacob came up with these:

1-You will get a black eye!

2-You will be in the military.

3-You might wrestle a wolf.

4-You will go camping in the snow.

5-You will get a jeep.

6-You will be a baseball star.

7-You might not go to college.

8-You will not break your leg.

I love boys.

My Elder Brother

It's almost 3am. I woke up about an hour ago to see an amazing moon hovering over the tops of the trees. It was so beautiful I decided to go downstairs and set up the telescope on the front porch. After several unsuccessful attempts, (I am hopelessly tech-retarded) I came back upstairs, crawled in bed and had to settle for looking at the moon and stars through the window instead. I laid there for a while looking up at the clear summer night.
Staring at the stars always makes me think of heaven and God and my purpose here on earth. Perhaps that's why, I'm not sure, but as I lay there my thoughts turned to my Savior and I recalled again the beautiful details of an experience I had as a young girl. I don't know why but I feel really impressed that I should share it here.

To put it mildly, I didn't grow up in a very loving and nurturing home. But despite this upbringing, from my earliest memories I was deeply aware that I had a Father in Heaven who knew me and loved me. As a child there were many times when I would cry myself to sleep at night and the only thing that comforted me was the sense of His love and understanding for the trials and abuse I endured. I never doubted his existence or His love. I knew I was a daughter of a Heavenly Father and that he loved me. He gave me hope that one day I could have the life I wanted; filled with love, acceptance and goodness. I held onto that hope and it carried me through until the day I kneeled across the alter from my husband in the House of the Lord.

Although I had a deep and abiding love for God, my Father in Heaven, I am ashamed to say that at that time in my life I did not share the same affection for my elder brother and Savior. I remember struggling with this for weeks feeling guilt that I had such great love for my Heavenly Father but I felt little emotion toward His son, Jesus Christ. I'd been taught in primary (Sunday school) that Jesus had lived a perfect life and had never sinned or made a mistake. He was tutored by the spirit and angels administered to Him teaching Him of His role and mission in life. I vividly remember the thoughts that ran through my head one day as I played outside in an old shed that I used for my playhouse . "If I had angels by my side helping me, I think it would be much easier to be perfect." In my young heart there began to grow an ignorant resentment that he was somehow given special privilege. I began to feel that it wasn't fair, that He had been given an unfair advantage. I'm embarrassed to confess that I felt this way but at that time in my life I was really struggling with feelings of self worth and was facing some personal problems that left me feeling far from perfect.


Not long after having these thoughts I had a dream. In my dream I was outside by the same shed playing with my sister and best friend. I soon found myself alone standing in the tall summer grass. I turned to see where they had gone and saw instead a figure dressed in white standing just a short distance from me. Immediately I recognized who He was and felt of His divinity and love. All prior feelings of resentment melted away but in his presence I was flooded with a wave of embarrassment as I recalled my recent thoughts. I came to Him and began to cry as I fell to my knees in shame. He never said a word to me and I never saw his face but my heart learned volumes of his love and mercy when He put his arms around me and pressed me to his bosom. Words cannot express the warmth and peace that I felt. I never wanted to leave his embrace. I woke from that dream, my pillow wet with tears, still feeling the warmth of his arms around me. I think back on this experience from time to time (as I did tonight) and cherish it in my heart. Years later when I was in high school, I wrote this poem about my dream.


My Elder Brother

Radiant Robes of the purest white,
glowing like the sun.
All in shame, I fall to my knees
as I recognize the Son.

It was his eyes that never I saw
or His facial features
and yet I recognized His hands,
I knew he was my teacher.

Not a word was spoken,
nothing could be said.
No answer to my worries needed,
my spirit had been fed.

The warmth and love I felt for Him
as I wept upon his robes
His warm, gentle hand assuring me
that I'd never be alone.

How this vision given to me,
one night in a dream.
Has brought His spirit closer to me
when in times of need.

Now I know without a doubt
the love of my Elder Brother.
To know of His sacrifice for me,
so I may live forever.

All at peace I am inside,
when I think of your warming embrace
I could have lived forever there...
in your arms, with a tear-stained face.

By Andria Cole 12-12-94