The First Day of the Rest of My Long Life

Today is the first day of the rest of my long life. Why? Because yesterday I thought I was dying. It all started when my mom decided to get an insurance policy on me for financial reasons. As is necessary for any insurance policy, I had to have a medical exam to make sure I was worth insuring. So a couple weeks ago, a nurse came to my house and checked my weight and blood pressure, asked me a bunch of questions about my family’s and my medical history, and took a bunch of blood. It wasn’t a big deal until I found out that my sister’s results (my mom got a policy on her as well) came back almost 2 weeks ago while mine were being held up for some reason even though we did the medical tests on the same day. When the insurance agent asked what the hold-up was, they sent him some cryptic email about possibly waiting for a medical request or some such thing. So that’s when I started to worry.

When I found all of this out on Thursday evening, I started to feel sick to my stomach wondering if there was something wrong with me. Then Friday morning I woke up early and wasn’t able to go back to sleep due to worry. I couldn’t help thinking I had cancer or some other awful disease, and I wondered if I only had a few months to live, a few precious months to spend with my children and my husband. I started thinking about if I should go through chemo, if I should try to cure myself through a drastic change to my diet, or both. I wondered what emotions might have caused this to happen and how I could release those emotions once and for all.

And I wondered how my family would make it without me. I thought of my little toddler who is so shy that he doesn’t like to leave my side in unfamiliar environments. I thought of how cute he is when he’s sucking his thumb and how he needs a haircut. I thought of my adorable little 4-year-old and how I would miss her silliness and sweetness. I thought about how much I want her to never lose that fun, energetic side of her no matter what and wondered how I would be able to help with that if I’m not here. I thought of my very serious 6-year-old and wondered how she would handle life without me there to love and validate her. I thought of the way she says “Mom!” in this particular tone of voice whenever I say something to tease her, a tone of voice that says, “You’re not really serious, are you?” And I thought of my amazing 8-year-old who is so talented and has so much to offer already and yet is so unsure of himself. How will he understand just how precious and priceless he is if I’m not here to confirm that in him? My heart ached thinking about my little ones having to go through life without their mommy there. And it ached wondering if they would even remember me, especially my baby.

I wondered how my husband would cope without me. Would he lose his temper with the kids more? Would it soften him up because he knew that’s what the kids needed? Would he stay his cheerful, lovable self and continue looking for ways to serve people? Would he remarry right away? How soon would the ache in his heart go away? Would he miss our late-night conversations when I keep talking to him even though he’s tired and wants to go to sleep? Would he miss finding my hair all over the house? Would he miss my not-so-gentle nudges to change a bad habit?

I also thought about a funeral I went to recently, the funeral of a dear friend’s mother. This woman spent her whole life serving others, and I was so touched as I listened to her children talk about the legacy she left behind, a legacy of love and charity and service. What would people say about me at my funeral? Would they have a hard time thinking of anything to say because of how self-centered I tend to be? Would they talk about how gung ho I always was about triathlons and running? Would they say that I cared way too much about what others might be thinking of me? Would they say that I had so much potential but that I didn’t really live up to it? Would they have anything more to say than that? Would anybody truly be able to say I was a great friend or sister or mother or wife or person? Would they be able to say that I listened to and followed the Spirit? Would they be able to say that I gave of myself serving others? Would they be able to say they learned to be more Christlike by following my example? Would they be able to say that I was humble and compassionate? That I was filled with charity and gave of my time and love freely?

It was a long day of introspection for me. When I finally got a phone call in the afternoon telling me that our agent had received the results and that I had received preferred status–the highest level possible–I almost cried with relief. I felt so grateful to be alive and, ironically, so grateful that I thought for half of a day that I was dying. I received such a powerful look into my soul and was able to see what was most important to me and what should be most important to me even when I’m not on death’s doorstep. And guess what? The messy house and our finances and my appearance aren’t at the top of that list.

I wish I could say that I didn’t do anything wrong today after my perceived brush with death. But I did. I got frustrated with the kids, and I ate more poorly than I should have, and I said something insulting to my husband, and I spent too much time on the internet. But I also felt joy and gratitude. I noticed how sweet my kids are a little more often today. I was able to respond lovingly more than I responded angrily. I felt closer to my husband. I set up an appointment to get our family pictures taken. And I didn’t allow myself to get stressed just because the kitchen isn’t spotless. Life is so good. I am grateful for my life, and I am grateful for my health. I am looking forward to a long, fulfilling life.

It is great to be alive!

Priorities

Today, instead of being “responsible” and doing laundry, etc. I spent a significant portion of my usual house-cleaning time playing with my children instead. I had so much fun while I was playing with them. But now, at the end of the day, I feel discouraged that my house is such a mess. Shouldn’t I feel happy that I put my children as a higher priority than the housework? Maybe because there is no physical evidence to show for playing with my kids, I have a harder time feeling like I got something accomplished. Still, I would much rather play tag with the kids than fold laundry. So how do I get past the need for physical evidence of my contribution and focus instead on the non-tangible benefits of getting my priorities right? Just posing this question to the universe.

Shattered Dreams

My mom and sister decided to host a girls night for their little granddaughters who live nearby. It was planned for last night, and my little 5-year-old, Anna has been soooo excited about it. Every single day for at least a week, she has been saying, “I can’t wait for Friday! Girls night!” “Only 3 more days until girls night!”

Friday morning she woke up saying her tummy hurt. Thinking it might be fatigue, I warned her that if she was too sick for school then she was too sick for girls night. So right before it was time to leave for school, she dragged herself off the couch and started trying to get her clothes on, but her lethargy told me she really was sick. I took her temperature and sure enough, it was 99.9. I told her she really was sick and would have to stay home. Oh, the agony! The poor little thing was devastated that she would have to miss girls night. Even though I assured her that they would have another one as soon as possible for her, she sobbed for a long time. I felt so sad for her!

Mercifully, her 3-year-old sister woke up complaining that her ear hurt, so I decided to keep them both home from the girls night. That would have been the ultimate injustice if I had taken Rachel and not Anna. And thankfully Rachel is too young to really care much. Hopefully it won’t be long before her dreams finally come true.

St. Patrick’s Day Surprises

When I was younger, I never imagined the stress that could come from a daughter who doesn’t happen to own a green shirt! Can you believe it? Not a one. My little 5-year-old is EXTREMELY picky when it comes to clothing. It has to feel just right or she will refuse to wear it, to the point of throwing tantrums. As a result, she has a very limited wardrobe that includes no green shirts. I knew there would be problems come morning if I did not find something she could wear to school. Thankfully, some blessed person whom I have never even met gave my mom some hand-me-down clothes for my younger daughter, and there was a shirt included that had big green flowers. It was a size too small but thankfully flowy enough that Anna would still wear it. Oh, the joy! All the kids were happily arrayed in green when they left for school, and they spent the rest of the day looking for leprechaun mischievousness.

It was rather humorous to watch them, especially Anna: “Mom! You know those bottles that were in the bathroom? [Uh, sure.] They’re gone! The leprechauns must have taken them!” “Mom, who put the swings like that? It must have been leprechauns!” I was tempted to say to my husband when he got home from work, “Honey! Look what the leprechauns did to the house! It wasn’t this messy before!”

Proud Mommy

Last week in fast and testimony meeting, 7-year-old Cameron and 5-year-old Anna both decided to bear their testimonies for the first time in church without anyone else pushing them to do it. I unfortunately was home with sick little ones, so I didn’t get to hear them. (But that’s probably for the best because I would have been crying through the whole thing.) But Jared said they both did a great job. They both told me about what they said–Cam bore his testimony that fasting can bring you closer to God and Anna bore her testimony about the importance of reading the scriptures.

On top of that, we had talked to them that same morning about what fasting is and why we fast, and both of them also decided to try fasting through one meal. They both chose something specific they wanted to fast about, and we started the fast with a family prayer. It was a good learning experience for them.

Cameron and Anna are both so amazing! I’m really proud of my little ones. Spiritually they don’t seem so little anymore.

The Joy a Bad Memory Can Bring

Tonight after Family Home Evening, 6-year-old Cameron told me that he had never seen me do anything wrong and that I am the only perfect person in our family. While I quickly yelled at him that he didn’t know what he was talking about (just kidding), I was happy to know that, for the moment at least, the good things I’m doing as a mom were more apparent and memorable to him than the many bad things I’ve done.  I’m so grateful for how forgiving little children are as well as for their poor memories. I wish my memory were a little poorer sometimes. And I have to admit that this has definitely motivated me to keep working on my patience, etc. I don’t want to shatter that image too quickly!

Growing Up

Last week was a bit of a rough week here in our household, and without going into detail, I will just say that it caused me to realize just how important and how difficult it is to fit in quality one-on-one time with each of my four children when they are all so young and so close in age. But recent events have suddenly made me sit up and see how important it is to make my children my priority at this stage in our lives. As a result, I have been noticing more and more how much joy they add to my life and, particularly, how much laughter. For example, Rachel is in a very bossy stage right now, but coming from a 2-year-old who is the size of a 12-month-old, it comes off as quite hilarious. Imagine a 2-foot tall person staring up at you with the maddest face she can muster and saying, ‘Juice! Now!’ I don’t think it has quite the effect she intends it to have. The main problem is that she knows just how adorable she is, and she uses that to her advantage all the time. For example, lately she calls everybody ‘Poopy’ (for which I have Cameron and Anna to thank), and when I tell her she needs to say sorry for calling someone this lovely name, she says in a very angry tone, ‘SORRY!’ I will then respond in a stern voice, ‘Hey, you need to say it nicely.’ So she’ll say in a slightly less angry voice, ‘Sorry!’ Then she’ll look up, see the look on my face, and break into a huge smile as if to say, ‘You can’t be mad at me; I’m too darn cute!’ And of course she’s right.

Anna is just about to turn 5. It has now been about 2 ½ years that she has preferred to wear dresses rather than pants. It’s been so long, in fact, that she cries as if she’s being tortured whenever I make her wear pants or even tight-fitting tights because they feel so uncomfortable to her. But I have to admit, dresses really fit her personality. She is such a little princess (except when she’s teaching her little sister to say ‘Poopy’). She also happens to be a fantastic little reader. I’m particularly proud of her because she is becoming a favorite among all her little playmates, not because of how beautiful she is or how smart she is or how funny she is (although she is all of those) but because she is so nice to all of them. She is really learning well how to be nice to all her friends rather than playing favorites like some of the other girls her age tend to do. I’m very proud of my big girl!

Logan is just starting to crawl. He’s still trying to figure out the mechanics of it, but he’s gotten quite good at getting around. He is a bundle of smiles except when two teeth are trying to break through at the same time. Then he’s not as cheerful as usual, but he’s still adorable. Since he is about to get new teeth, I feel this overwhelming urge to follow him around with a camera taking pictures all day so that I can document my last baby’s final days of babyhood. I’m having a hard time with how fast this one in particular is growing up.

But I guess it’s inevitable. They grow up too fast. As much as people warned me that my kids’ childhoods would fly by more quickly than I wanted them to, it still shocks me when I realize how quickly my oldest baby’s first 6 ½ years of life have raced by. Cameron is quite a mature young man now . . . although I have to admit that he’s not quite ready to move out on his own just yet. The other day Jared and I were discussing what might be expected of Cameron if there were an emergency, so Jared called Cameron over and asked, ‘Cam, if there were a fire and Mommy and Daddy weren’t home, could you get everybody out of the house?’

He responded, ‘Yes.’

Jared asked, ‘What would you do?’

‘I would run and tell Anna to get out of the house, then I would go wake up Rachel and go get Logan.’ Both of us were feeling quite proud of our responsible young son at this moment, and Jared praised him, ‘Good job, Cameron. You are such a big boy.’
Then Cameron added, ‘Then I would throw Logan up in the air, do a roll, and catch him!’

The Pictures are In!

Admittedly, I have actually had these pictures in my possession for over a month now. But better late than never, right? Here are some of my favorites.

Pictures-Finally!

I am very happy to announce that I FINALLY got a few pictures of my not-so-newborn baby a week ago.  Our sweet photographer, Carly, was happy to take a few pictures of my other kids as well while we took a break to feed Logan. She’s still editing most of them, but if you want a sneak peek, take a look at http://carlypendletonphotography.blogspot.com/. Carly is a great photographer and very affordable for any of you who live in my neck of the woods.

I could be biased, but I think the few pictures I’ve seen so far are absolutely adorable! I can’t help it, I just have cute kids.

Is It Really Worth It?

Today has been a rough day in the life of this mother of 4. I’ve struggled with feelings of being trapped as I’ve felt like I’ve had to sacrifice, one by one, all of the things I like to do in order to keep up with the responsibilities of caring for my family. To make matters worse, my 2-year-old really gave me a run for my money today.  She took more than an hour to go to sleep at naptime; she spilled smoothie all over the table for the millionth time this week; she made off with the only remaining pacifier we have for Logan, and now we can’t find it anywhere; and I was once again sprinting down the block when I saw her standing in the middle of the road talking to a passerby in their SUV. That makes the 4th time this week (or is it the 5th?). Later, as I was washing her very dirty feet after she had been playing in the garage, I was reminded of the Savior washing the apostles’ feet and how much he did to serve them simply because he loved them, and I was overwhelmed with feelings of love for my little girl. I appreciate the reminders I receive now and then about why I’m doing what I’m doing. And yes, it is worth it.