Sweet Spirit

For the second time in a month, I was witness to my son standing up at a church podium and proclaim the gospel and his sweet testimony. For our Primary sacrament meeting program, the primary presidency asked Jaxon if he would share his story of how he came to be with our family and how the temple has made us a forever family. I have to tell you that Jaxon has always been non-interested in his birth story. His cousin Branden is eager to share his but Jaxon seems so ok to not know details or particulars. When we went to pick him up our visit was such a short one that we promised that we would take him to visit when he was 8 years old. He told us that Rexburg was his home and he really didn't need to go visit somewhere he didn't remember. (We are now planning for 12) So needless to say, Jaxon was not super excited to stand up in front of grown ups and talk about something that he didn't feel like talking about.

So I made a deal with him. I would write some of the thoughts and feelings about the events that surrounded his adoption and our taking him to the temple and he could decide what he did or didn't want to say. In the end it was short and sweet and completely sounded like Jaxon. The day of the Primary practice was Jaxon's championship game for grid kid football so he had to wing the standing up in front of everyone.

The program, like always was touching and full of the spirit. But Jaxon's talk had the entire congregation sobbing by the end. He looked like a little missionary, confident and full of the spirit as he spoke. He told us that he thought he was going to vomit but honestly you would have never known it. His talk went like this:

Temple blessings unite families and my family has been blessed because of the sealing powers of the priesthood within the temple. I was born in Philadelphia to a woman named Michelle. She was not able to take care of me so she chose to give me to my mom and dad here in Rexburg. She wanted me to have a home where there could be a mom and a dad who could take care of me.

When I was six months old, my adoption was finalized and my family got to go to the temple so that I could be sealed to my mom and dad. My brother and sister were there. My mom says it was really neat to have all her children in the temple together dressed in white. Many wonderful things happened that day in the temple that testified to our family and others that we were meant to be together as a family.

Our family is forever, not just in words but because someone who held the keys sealed us together forever. I am grateful that Heavenly Father brought us together to be a family and the He blessed us with the gospel so that we can be united forever in the temple.

It was one of my most momentous spiritual moments. To see that little boy up there bearing his testimony knowing that things could have been so much different for him if ... but there again, this I know that he was supposed to be here. I know that the Lord has many great things for him to accomplish.

As the mother of this child and frankly all of my children, I feel a great responsibility to help them achieve their potential.

No they have changed mine!

So tonight we went to a movie. It has kind of become a Thanksgiving tradition to do this. This year we picked out a good one called The Blind Side. It is a story about a wealthy family taking in a young man who had been abandoned by everyone and helping him to become the best he could be. Mostly it was about the mother who felt that this boy needed some help and acted on that feeling. Two of my favorite parts in the show were 1) the mom, LeeAnn, is talking to her friends and they are asking her questions and kind of giving her flack for taking in a homeless black kid. She proceeds to set them straight and then one of the women says, "you are changing this boy's life" and LeeAnn says, "No he is changing mine." 2) Michael has left because he begins to believe that the only reason the family is taking care of him is to prep him to play sports for their alma mater. And after LeeAnn searches all over, she gets a phone call and Michael says, "Momma".



This was a tremendously powerful story about the influence we have on each other. So considering that this is Thanksgiving, I want to tell about the powerful influence that those in my life have had on me. Because I haven't changed their lives, they have changed mine.



I am married to an amazing man. In my opinion it is a miracle that Tom is who he is considering where he came from. His conversion story is powerful and sweet. He tells of being a little boy and knowing that all the things that his family did and stood for were not right. He knew that there was something more. He talks about the power of righteous friendships where members of the church encouraged him to participate in the simple activities of the church. He attended seminary in high school because those friends did and he learned the gospel. He learned it so well that when the missionaries came to him, he knew already that he wanted that in his life. I am grateful for the courage that he had to serve a mission knowing that no one in his family would support him, financially, emotionally or spiritually. I am eternally grateful that he married me in the temple of the Lord, despite the fact that only a handful of people from either of our family could attend. I adore him for being committed to me during the storms that we have weathered together. I admire him for his steadfastness in serving the Lord. I appreciate his honesty and willingness to forgive. I am so grateful that he is the kind of father that I wanted my children to have.



I am thankful for Mike. I love his ability to smile even when I think there is nothing to smile about. I have learned to appreciate the little things because of him. Things like: his willingness to let us tie his shoes even though a crowd is watching, his attention to the sports he loves and how he can break a move down so that he can accomplish it despite his body's inability to accomplish the task. I am thankful for his willingness to forgive everyone.

I am grateful for Alyssa. I appreciate her ability to remain calm and take life as it comes. In my opinion she is the epitome of a true lady and has been since she was a very little girl. She has a wisdom that spans far beyond her years and she teaches me much. She is humble not even recognizing how tremendously inspiring she is to those around her. I am grateful for her quiet peacefulness that balances my type A personality.

I am grateful for Jaxon. I love his quick wit and sweet smile. I am so grateful that he like his brother is comfortable in his own skin. I love that although he is a big, tough athlete, at the end of the day, he can still sit in the snuggle chair with me and be my little boy. I also love that despite being the super stud athlete, he is still kind to everyone. He loves to save the underdog under the radar. I love his laugh and how contagious it can be.

I am grateful that the Lord granted me the opportunity to be a part of this family because they have changed me...and for that I am grateful.

Off, Off and Away

It has been an extremely weird week. With people in mass histeria over the swine flu and I really wish that I were joking - I am a little weary. I actually prayed for more patience and less sarcasim the other morning. What I determined from that little prayer is that I am good for about seven hours and fifty-two minutes, then my mouth gets the best of me. I suppose that I need to keep praying.

I am going to write a book someday in the future that chronicles how in my next life (Ha Ha) I do not want to be the mom. Maybe the dad. It sometimes seems that their job is much less emotional and so because of that somewhat easier. However don't get me wrong I am sure that given a Freaky Friday situation, I would pale by comparison when it comes to my wonderful spouse. I am so grateful for the fact that I have been given the opportunity to be a mother because it affords me many avenues for growth. I just wish that the detours that arise and force me down very unfamiliar roads would be a little less painful for everyone involved.

The general theme of what I have learned on my last little detour is that 1) I missed my calling as a private investigator. My skills at finding the needle in the haystack are becoming more and more honed and 2) no matter what there has to be a silver lining. Frequently it requires much "fasting and prayer" to find it but there usually is a positive even if it is microscopic. 3) sometimes it is imperitive to use that soft, loving tone even when you want to scream at the top of your lungs and use words that were intended for a bar (not that I have ever tried that at all).

So lets address the first learning theme - Did you know that you can put a GPS track on a cell phone and they can locate the person who is in possession of that phone anywhere in the United States except Idaho and Montana. Good to know if you ever need to locate say a child who has been less than honest about his destination. Also your bank will put a trace on the use of someones debit card if you sob uncontrollably on the phone long enough. You know just in case you need to know that. Calling in favors from people who you have done nice things for in the past comes in handy. There still remains a level of indebtedness when you have been kind to others, so keep that up. You just never know when you will require a favor.

I have always wondered where the term silver lining comes from. I looked it up and really it is just a idiom that was conceived a long time ago. You were hoping for something really cool - sorry to disappoint. Anyway, I am learning that we have to look for the good in every situation. Usually it is the smallest of small details that without us examining it really closely would go over looked. Sometimes it even requires us to point the finger back at ourselves and just laugh at something we have done. Whatever the situation that requires us to look for the silver lining, there is something to be learned by looking for the good. Whether it be the fact that even though our children did something that we just couldn't imagine them doing...wow they did it without us guiding them through it and they came back unscathed.

I have decided that since the spirit speaks to us in a still small voice maybe, just maybe I need to speak in softer tones even when I am tempted to scream loudly in anger. I have found, although this skill is far from being perfected and needs to be used more frequently, that when I choose to lower my tone everyone responds better to what I am trying to say. Instead of a full blown, knock-down, drag-out fight ensuing, there is peace and I am able to get across my point with more impact than yell ever would.

One more thing I have learned. I need these situations and children and moments to teach me how to be better. How else would I learn?

A touch of DASH!

I am in a writing mood and when I am in that mood, I write! I need to take a moment to recognize the "little" one in my house. I use little loosely because in a matter of moments, he will be taller than me. Keep in mind that the boy wears the same shoe size as he is old. We are looking forward to many years of "looking up" to our boy in many ways.

He just finished an amazing season of gridkid football. Amazing just doesn't even really do it justice. It is in this particular venue that I take a moment to explain what it is like to watch Jaxon play sports. I have to do it this way because his father will share his opinion of his son's greatness to anyone and everyone. Which is not bad, just awkward sometimes. I jokingly tell him that we have to find a cure for the disease that he has developed before Jaxon gets to high school sports or no one will talk to us. Jaxon's father is his biggest fan.

I was telling a friend the other day that being Jaxon's mother is much like being the mother of Dash on "The Incredibles". You remember at the end of the movie when the Incredible family is cheering Dash on at the track meet and then they motion for him to back off a little and then they cheer again. Well I feel like we have to do that much of the time with Jaxon. If we audibly praise all of his sports triumphs, someone else gets offended. But I want our boy to know how truly amazing he really is. He can do moves on the football field and basketball court that no one has taught him. It is like he was born knowing what he was supposed to do and he makes it look so effortless while he is doing it.

While contemplating his skills, I also have to thank the Lord for allowing me to be his mom. Without the unique opportunity of that title, Jaxon would have been living somewhere else and I know with assurity that this is exactly where he is suppose to be. Tom and I are suppose to find the nice balance that will let us shout to the world Jaxon's abilities while still keeping him humble and centered. Meanwhile we will cheer and motion while he discovers his greatness!

Helicopter Moments

So I had one of those moments where I discovered my boundaries as a mother. These are never pleasant moments. It is much like moving at a fast speed toward a brick wall only to discover moments before you hit the wall, that your brakes do not work. OUCH! Without giving many details, I really mess up the situation that I should not have been involved with in the first place. Fortunately, another mother who I really think had compassion on me because she had probably been in that same situation with her own children, took pity on me and repaired the damage I had done.

This got me to wondering why it was that I had behaved in such a way that I actually had a helicopter moment. For those of you who are new to this concept, this is when as a mother you actually attempt to alter those events in your children's lives that you deem as "fixable". Those moments in time when you hover about your child, audibly shouting at those who pass by, "Step
away from the child!" Or something like that. I unfortunately have these moments frequently. I think that for some reason I have to make life better, smoother, more comfortable, desirable, easy, etc for my offspring. Only usually I make it worse.

And that was my epiphany this week. I can attempt to move mountains to make the pathway smoother for my children only to find out that they could have easily taken a different path that would have been less complicated for them and less painful for me. I don't have to make it all better. I just have to be their mother. The job requirement does not mean that any mountains have to be moved or any situations fixed necessarily, I just have to love them. And since I am sure that in my efforts to love them, occassionally I will have to smooth the edges once in a while.

Now STEP AWAY FROM THE CHILD:)

Memories of Green

This last week we have been glued to a new blog about one of our little friends, Jace who just found out that he has leukemia. Reading about their new "adventures" has brought our memories full circle to over twenty-one years ago. We too had started our own "life adventure" and in a blink of an eye, our whole world changed. We were at the old Primary Children's hospital. Old was the operative word there. There was not enough space for everything that needed to exist in a medical facility so most of the hallways were lined with equipment. The walls were painted in the most nauseating color of green and there was no rhyme or reason with how or where most children were located.

We were assigned the green team. This was a team of doctors, nurse practitioners, and nurses who took care of Mikael. We were forced to share a very small room, 10' x 15' with another very sad family who had a very sick baby too. The MRI wasn't even at PCMC, but located at LDS hospital several blocks away. It was a new proceedure and the rad tech joked that he knew exactly what was wrong with our baby. He laughed as he announced that Mikael had a crack in his brain. I remember panic...how...why...and then the tech realized that neither Tom or I got the joke, either because we were emotionally spent or because we were exhausted from over thirty hours of no sleep or both. The cracks that he had referred to were actually the natural sutures in his skull. Not so funny. The doctors came in later and told us that Mike had had a stroke.


I remember with amazing clarity the sensation that the earth had been jerked from beneath my feet as they explained that our boy would never be what we had anticipated. I had signed up for ITALY and got sent to HOLLAND. (It's a poem) And you know since that moment, life has really never been what I had imagined for any of us. The milestones in our child's life came at different intervals and definitely played out so much differently than they did for other children. Hospital visits and medical bills were common and everyday for our family.

Several years ago I heard Alyssa and her friends talking about fish tanks (I'm not sure why but the subject was being discussed) Alyssa told her friends that her very favorite fish tanks were the salt water tanks at PCMC in the surgery waiting areas. Her friends laughed and joked "yah mine too...so when were you there?" She said, " I have spend a lot of time waiting in that room, staring at the beautiful fish and the bubbles, wondering and praying for my brother on the other side."

I do believe that we "signed up" for the tasks and trials that we experience (those that are not part of the consequences of our power to choose) here on earth. I know that Mike did and I am pretty sure that we as a family did. I am not so certain that we knew what we were getting into. Maybe it didn't look this hard or we thought we would handle it better from the other side. Somewhere along the line, I think we forgot that we would forget that this is suppose to be an opportunity to grow. I know that I am quick to forget and slow to remember why I am here. I am here to be the mother and the keeper of the memories...of green.

I am sad for our friends, the Leatham's. I am sad that their lives have and will continue to be different than they envisioned. I hope that somewhere along the line, I can offer them words of hope and encouragement that no matter what happens, the Lord has blessed and will continue to bless them in small and simple ways. I have seen His efforts in all aspects of this journey.

It is funny (ok not so funny) how being a parent is much like a punishment for all those trials that we doled out to our parents. I remember sitting at the counter in the kitchen in my home in Southern Idaho sobbing uncontrollably that my parents couldn't possibly understand and that they were wrong. Of course, several years later in my repentent mode, I recognized that they not only understood but they were right. The funny part isn't how we replay the situation on the other side, it is that it is tremendously more painful on the parent side. I am stating this because I have been on both sides and lying the cards down next to each other, this is harder all the way around.

This is why I think it is:

First - I love my children more than life itself. I will never leave my children, but they will leave me. It is part of the plan. So no matter what hurtful things they say or do, I will always love them. I remember thinking at the time that I had my first son, I will never again just be me. Forever...I will be his mother.

Second - I have been there before. I lived the "drama" of being a teenager and I would never do it again, even if I was paid. I convinced myself that my parents were unfair, unloving, hateful and unchristian. There were a lot of things that I thought my parents were or weren't. They didn't know. Truth is that now that I am a parent, I am convinced that I know even less. As much as I pray for it, my children's instruction booklet has not been FedEx'd to me.

Third - What I did learn as a teenager was extremely painful as a result of my refusal to listen. The result were consequences that I was unable to see because I was proud. As an adult, I have learned that pride is the destruction of all good. It makes us believe that we are invincible, infalible and indestructible. My friend said this about her daughter that has been in the arena of bad decisions, "She wants to eat her cake and have her cake." Choices seem so easy when we interpret that the decisions we are making are based on solid information. When we are sixteen nothing is solid. The ground gets jerked out from underneath us moment by moment. Parents have been there, done that. And no matter what a teenager has been told, we remember what it is like to be there. We remember the pain of our decisions. They haunt us in our children's choices. We can run but never hide, we can cry in sorrow for repentence but we still know because we can still remember how it could have been.

Fourth - Despite all the love in the world, I will always just be the mother. What could I possibly know with all my flaws? Trust me there are many when it comes to me. There are many things I wish as a person I did or didn't do, but as a parent the list is surmount. I wish, no I pray daily that my children will look back on their childhoods and understand that I did the best job with the information that I had at that moment. But more importantly, I have come to the realization that the process of parenting requires humility. My willingness to realize that I don't know it all, but what I do know (from the joys and sorrow of experience) will help my children if they are willing to lay down the gauntlet so to speak and allow me the privilege to lead them through the briers, around the land minds, below the low hanging branches and above the mud of life.

Despite all of that, they have the ability to make choices. Mistakes are part of life. I remember telling my daughter that my job was to place as many stones in the river so that they could cross with less difficulty. I can only pray that they will "choose" to jump to the next one.