My Mother's Day Beef

After my post yesterday it may have seemed like I'm a 100% fan of Mother's Day, but there is one thing about it that I have always found annoying.  I have a beef with the way my church celebrates Mother's Day and since Mother's Day is always on a Sunday pretty much every year I have a beef with the way it celebrates Mother's Day.  Each ward is given the ability to choose it's own way but in general every Mother's Day but one that I can remember went like this.  Three speakers spoke about their mothers.  It was fine.  The primary kids sing.  It is adorable.  All the women are asked to stand and then the young men bring around some type of flower, occasionally accompanied with a book, pamphlet, or card about mothers and one time a chocolate bar. Then they say thanks and we all go to our classes and work our buns off chasing around toddlers, refereeing six years olds, teaching lessons, and leading songs.  Most often the flower don't even make it to the third hour.  Our kids take them.  They pull the petals.  They hit each other with them.  They start to wilt because they don't have water.  If by chance they make it home they look lonely, a single stem in a vase.  It is a yearly reminder to me that men and women do not speak the same language.  One year my friend Jessica was the Relief Society President and I was the Primary President and we pushed for something different.  That year the men in our ward came in and took over the primary and nursery for the last fifteen minutes of church.  We had some snacks and we got to stand and chat.  This is what 90% of women want.  A moment to socialize and some choice when it comes to what we are going to eat.  My ideal Mother's Day, if it can't be what they did in my grandmother in laws ward where they let everyone go after the first hour (hello two extra hours of time with your family) but if it can't be that my ideal is that the men of my ward take over the third hour of church.  They come in and take care of nursery and primary (our young people's Sunday school which is primarily staffed by woman).  All the sisters in our ward get together.  We have a short relief society lesson and then we end 15-20 minutes early so that we can all socialize, something that a large portion of the sisters don't normally do because we are in young woman's and primary.  We have some food to snack on, some fruits, a cheese platter, good stuff but not necessarily desert heavy.  Doesn't that seem heavenly?  Well it does to me.  I'm sure there are a few sisters who prefer the flowers but I think in general many of us just would appreciate the chance to talk with one another.  To me this would be perfection.  It makes me wonder if the men in my ward don't like how we do Father's Day, a bag full of cookies?  I don't know gentlemen.  What would you like?

Mother's Day

Monday I had a good mom moment.  Peach had dance pictures after school.  She had individuals at five and group shots at 5:45.  I knew it was going to be a challenge.  The olders don't get home until 4:10 and the photography studio was a half hour away.  I started prepping at 3:00.  I gathered up a ton of hair products.  The thing with dance is that hair needs to be up away from your face.  I just started being able to put Peach's hair in a pony this last month, but it is a pony with tons of fly aways.  I packed a brush, a large tooth comb, a small tooth comb, five pony tails, a handful of bobby pins, leave in conditioner, gel, and hair spray.  I knew the kids were going to be hungry so I cooked up some cheese crisp and I sliced apples.  I got Peach and Cheetah in the car.  The olders go home, "Go potty, get a drink and head to the car I told them."  We pulled into the photography studio with five minutes to spare.  Cheetah and Peach had fallen asleep but I had my mountain buggy and loaded it up with two sleeping kids, an ipad, an itouch, some apple slices and all the hair products.  We walked into the studio and meet Peach's teacher who had her costume.  Within five minutes I had Peach awake, in costume and with hair done.  It was worth it when she looked at herself.  "I'm a princess."  Yes darling you are.  She had her individuals taken and then we had thirty minutes to wait until the rest of her group was there to take her dance group picture.  The kids were amazing and it was such a relief. I was one mom with four kids.  Only one other mom had two kids to watch and more than one group was two parents to one kid.  It was a recipe for disaster but I had come prepared and my kids were having a good moment and they shone.  Thank you children for helping mom not look like a crazy woman :)

It was a good way to cap Mother's Day from the Sunday before.  I know some people feel guilty on Mother's Day because you get stuck listening to all these great stories about great mothers.  I don't feel guilty when I hear people brag their mom's up on Mother's Day, because if you can't do that as a child then you aren't worth your salt, but I do feel guilty pretty much every other day of the year because I know I could be a better mother and where maybe I wouldn't feel guilt over not putting in 100% on doing laundry or my homework, when I think about the fact that my product is my children I do feel bad when I don't give them my best.  Luckily for me my kids aren't perfect and they don't expect perfection from me either.  So we just keep limping along doing the best we can and luckily we have love to cover up our imperfections.  This year I got a million cards for my special day.  Gigi alone had made five.  They were queenly aware of the day and tried their very best to make it a good one for me, well except Peach who got lost at church.  But even that tied in well.

I was in Young Woman's listening to the lesson when three of the woman from Primary came in to tell me that Peach had gotten lost on the way from the bathroom to the primary room.  They said they'd look everywhere and they couldn't find her.  They told me they'd already told Dr. J.  It sent me into panic mode.  I walked into the bathroom and started praying.  Then I walked to the back of the building.  I looked out of the parking lot.  No sign of her anywhere.  I walked to the other side of the building.  Still nothing.  My friend was rounding the building on the other side and started looking out on the main rode.  I turned back to the building.  I walked in the front door and looked at a classroom on the left side of me.  The door was slowly swinging.  I thought, "I wonder if Erin just looked in that room."  Then I pushed the door open.  It hit resistance.  I looked around the corner and saw my three years old curled up on the floor.  "Peach!" I yelled out as I scooped her into my arms.  I walked out the church doors to tell my friends on the road that I had her.  I walked back in and saw Dr. J.  We squeezed her in a big long hug.  I had a little cry.  Being a mother can be exhausting but my children are my heart and with their birth I became so much more vulnerable then I ever believed possible.  She was never in any real danger but the feeling I had when I thought she was.  It was indescribable.  It was a good reminder to me of how much I value my role in their lives.

After church we went to the park where we played on two separate playground and took a walk in the woods.  It was sunny but their was a cool breeze.  We had a great time.  Then we came home and made steaks in a group project for dinner and while eating strawberry ice cream Facetimed our moms :)  One thing I didn't do...Laundry :)
    

This Marriage - 11 Years In The Making

April 26th, 2002 Dr. J and I were married.  I celebrated our anniversary with a little pampering.  My mops group was having their spa day and I had my eyebrows waxed and my fingernails painted.  We had a nice dinner with the kids, steak, potatoes, and artichoke...this is my go to fancy meal, especially considering we still have 20lbs of steak and roast in our freezer.  I made a birthday cake and after dinner we lit that baby up with a number five candle and six individual candles.  The kids loved it...I mean who doesn't love birthday cake.  We celebrated with flowers.  I brought in tulips from our yard that I planted last year in celebration of our tenth anniversary...120 bulbs that came up this year in overwhelming beauty.  Dr. J brought two dozen roses, the bouquet he tried to buy me the morning we got married but as he walked the streets of the small town of Manti we were married in there wasn't a store open.  They day after we got a babysitter and went to Benihanas.  This restaurant has been a joke between us for year.  Back in the high school days Dr. J was in a prom date group that went to Benihana.  He mentioned it once when we were first married and I asked him why we'd never gone.  "Because that place is expensive," he told me.  Since that day I will occasionally tease, "Oh cheap enough for Prom, but too expensive for you wife."  The truth is though we haven't lived by a Benihanas for years.  Then recently Dr. J drove past one.  He came home and told me we were going.  We made a reservation, which thanks to the pinewood derby we had to push back an hour, but we luckily were able to rearrange and just made it in time.  We were at a table with one very frazzled mom, two ten year olds, and three thirteen years olds celebrating a birthday.  It was fun.  The girls were friendly and bubbly.  The chef was nice.  I realize it is a canned show, but it was super fun and the food was delicious.  It was eight when we got there and I was famished.  I scarfed the soup and salad.  I scarfed the shrimp appetizers and veggies.  The bowl of fried rice got to me and I ate the whole thing in ten bites.  Then the fullness hit me.  By the time the main course got to me I was stuffed.  I couldn't eat a single bite.  Luckily it kept well and the next day I just made some fried rice and feed the whole family dinner on that and our left overs.  Then they brought out sherbet and made us stand and dance.  We sung to the girl whose birthday it was.  We laughed. Dr. J only looked at his phone once.  Overall it was a great date.  In the end we said goodbye to our new friends wishing them a happy birthday.  The girls responded with a "happy anniversary" and as we walked out of the restaurant they yelled out, "Don't cheat on her."  Sound advice girls, sound advice.

I wish I had a before of my eyebrows.  They were so crazy.  I hadn't waxed or plucked them in probably three months and they were CRAZY!  I'm not much of a finger paint girl.  It starts to drive me crazy after a bit, like my fingers are suffocating...is that weird?  But it is fun to do every once in awhile.  

Gigi and Peach look very bored with the cake but rest assured they were ecstatic   

I love having flowers all over my yard.

My main struggle in life, keeping this tiny tot off of things.  

Some Thoughts On Dying

A college roommate of mine who happens to be an ER physician posted this article on her Facebook feed today, "Our unrealistic attitudes about death, through a doctor's eyes" an editorial piece by Craig Bowron.  My favorite line of the article:

"Opting to try all forms of medical treatment and procedures to assuage this guilt is also emotional life insurance: When their loved one does die, family members can tell themselves, “We did everything we could for Mom.” In my experience, this is a stronger inclination than the equally valid (and perhaps more honest) admission that “we sure put Dad through the wringer those last few months.”

It made me think back on my own experiences with death.  I've had two grandmothers who had the privileged of picking the manner of their own death.  You might think privilege is a poor word choice but bear with me for a few paragraphs.  The first was my Nana Flo, who was my favorite of all my grandparents.  Is that even ok to say?  Well she was.  I always felt I had a special connection with her, as did apparently all of her grandchildren, and when my parents got divorced I took a special comfort in her warm and tender love.  I also took comfort in our shared features.  I was a chubby girl/woman with two exceptionally thin parents and three younger sisters who are not only beautiful but well proportioned.  My Nana though had a larger frame like me and often carried a little extra chub.  In her figure I saw my own and while it might not have been the figure I wanted at least I could see where it came from.  She was a fun grandmother.  She played and did makeup, she would eat pizza on the living room floor, paint our nails, and talk about boys.  My love runs deep.  When I was 18 years old, at my first year in college, I got news from my mother that my Nana had been having trouble breathing and had been taken to the hospital where she had been diagnosed with lung cancer.  I was devastated.  I decided at that moment I would transfer home so I could spend more time with her.  At the end of summer I headed home and quickly enrolled at the state school.  The next year went pretty uneventfully.  The effects of chemo and radiation took their toll but in the end I had a cancer free Nana again.  She was doing so well that in April I decided to once again return to my out of state school the following winter.  Then tragedy struck.  One morning while rubbing a sore spot on her back my Nana discovered a lump.  It was tumors in her lungs that had returned with a vengeance.  She then made a choice that at the time I found exceptionally difficult.  Rather then start a new round of chemo and radiation my grandmother decided that she was satisfied with the 68 years she'd had on earth and that she would finish out the end of her life with just minimal medical intervention for pain.  I was beside myself.  I hadn't married at the time, I had no children, I hadn't graduated from college, started a career, bought a house.  These were all things I imagined I'd do with her still living.  I was one of her older grandchildren and I'd always imagined I'd have the opportunity to place my own daughter in her arms someday.  I did not want to let go and at a time when I felt like she had more paths to try I couldn't understand how she could be ready to let it go.  But let it go she did.  Within just a few months her health had deteriorated to point where she had to be put in hospice care.  I was there every hour I could be, sitting by her side, trying to entice her to eat, listening to my grandpa eat pork rinds and reminisce over the old days.  The day she died I was home in bed.  My uncle had sent me home for a nap and I got a call from him an hour later asking me to drive by my moms school to let her know  her mother had passed.  The void she left was gigantic and I was distraught.  For years after I held a grudge that she had not tried harder.  I wasn't ready to lose her and I didn't understand what a blessing it was that she had the opportunity to make her own health care decisions about her own end of life care.

More recently I lost my grandma Marvel.  I heard about her death while I was driving home from a trip to Utah two summers ago.  Somewhere in Wyoming my mom called me to tell me that Marvel had fallen and broken her hip and was going to need surgery.  Then she called me to tell me they couldn't keep her blood pressure up.  Medication wasn't working and the only thing they'd found that worked was having her lay in bed with the bed tilted toward her head and keeping her pain medication levels at a minimum, it was the only thing keeping her alive and it left her in excruciating pain.  My aunt and most of her children, my ex step father, and my two brothers went to visit with her in the hospital.  My uncle Bruce jumped on a plane.  My uncle Greg was unreachable somewhere in the wilds of Alaska, his work was trying to call him in but was having no success.  My brother played her a song on his guitar.  She told each family member she loved them and bore her testimony to them of her belief in God the Eternal Father, of Jesus Christ his son, and the truth of our church.  My mom told me that afternoon when she called me somewhere on the plains of Iowa that Grandma Marvel told my family that she was holding hands with my grandfather (he died when I was 16) and that her sister Sandra was sitting at the end of her bed (she'd died two years before) and it was time to go, and then she asked the doctors to put the head of her bed up.  They complied and she died before my uncle's plane had touched down.

As Dr. J has worked with many dying patients I have come to realize what a blessing it is to be able to make your own health care decisions.  When many families come to death they don't know what to do.  Even when people are aware that they are ill parents and children will often resists talking about it until it is too late and wishes are not well known.  Children, spouses, and doctors will come in with conflicting plans of attack. Feelings may be hurt.  Everyone is in shock and grieving which does not lend its self well to decision making. Sometimes doctors are pushing aggressive interventions.  Sometimes all the children or half the children, or one child, or a spouse is.  It can be heart wrenching and it often leads to long drawn out deaths and hurt feelings.  Years ago I heard of a family who after the children insisted the medical professionals follow their mother's wishes that she could no longer voice for herself to have no medical interventions the father turned to the children and said, "I hope your happy.  You killed your mother."  Death is hard.  It is lonely.  It often makes us angry.  Twelve years ago I was angry at my nana.  I wanted her and I felt like an outlier treatment attempt was worth making if there was any chance I might get to have her for longer.  Ten years later when my grandma died I realized what a blessing it was for my nana to make her own health care decisions, to realize she'd come to the end of her life and was ready to let go of the pain regardless of how I felt about it.  I realized that my Grandma Marvel was privileged to be able to take that decision on to herself.  She was able to save her family the guilt of trying to decided when enough had been done.  She was able to find her own relief.  She was able to choose the moment that she returned to the arms of my grandfather.

I'm not saying that the answer is always to pull the plug, but I am saying that when it comes to death and dying, to knowing when you've had enough that the patient should be the one who gets to make that decision.  The problem is most of us when we get to that point won't have clarity of mind or be conscious to be able to weigh in.  That's why we need to think about it now.  We need to let our families know what interventions we want, what conditions we are willing to live with, and we need to be realistic about how long we are going to be able to live, because the one inevitability of life is that all of us will surly leave it at some point.  Most importantly we should all have a living will.  You can pay to have an attorney write one up, you can pay $40 to have one done on legalzoom.com, or you can find a free form here.  It gives your family piece of mind that they are making the right choice for you and it gives you the privileged of making the choice you want for yourself.

Preemie Life 18 months - 15 1/2 months adjusted

My little Cheetah is 18 months today.  How did this happen?  Why can't I just freeze time for a second.  She is growing like a weed, literally.  At her appointment she measured 31 1/4 inches which for her adjusted age puts her in the 65% for height.  This is nuts to me.  She still seems so short, but apparently she isn't as short as I thought she was.  She has definitely made strides in her height.  Her weight on the other hand...not so great.  She is 19 lbs, 9 ounces which puts her in the 8th percentile for her weight.  She is dropping off her growth curve.  This isn't my first time at this rodeo.  Gigi was off her growth curve and then at four she jumped up in height again.  Captain E was a huge baby but then as he got older while he stayed on the taller side he continued to get thinner and thinner.  Such is life.  Cheetah loves to eat.  She loves apples, bananas, strawberries, cheese, chicken, noodles, chocolate chip cookies, lettuce, potatoes, popcorn, rice, oatmeal, cereal, and her absolute favorite is lasagna, or "basagna" as Peach likes to call it.  She also loves popsicles and you will often find her running around the backyard half-eaten popsicles in hand.  She loves being outside.  Thank goodness we got a fenced in yard because she loves to be in it.  Her favorite hangouts are the sand box, digging and getting dirty make her happy, swinging on the swing, and the top of the play house.  This girl is a climber.  You often find her on top of tables, dressers, sofas, and ladders that are available.  It shouldn't surprise anyone that her favorite word is "UP".  "UP," she yells, "UP, UP!"  At fifteen months I was worried because she was hardly speaking at all but recently her language has started to blossom.  She calls knows my name, her dads, Captain E's, and her sisters.  She can tells us to pick her up.  She ask for food and drink.  When you give her something she will tell you "Thank you."  When she hands you something she will say, "Here you go."  Cheetah loves to read and will bring a book to me and say, "Mom read."  She loves the dog next door which is crazy because that dog is not so nice.  I keep telling Dr J I'm worried the dog is going to bite her, and really do we need to do another emergency room visit this year?  Really.  She is a good girl.  A joy to be around.  She has a great laugh and gives great cuddles.  Her siblings and parents adore her, although captain E will often tell me, "This little girl is trouble."  And he is right.  But she is also a delight.  Cheetah we love you so much.  It is fun to watch you as you grow and gain skills each day.  You really are a great kid!

Radioactive

I have a sister in law E who I have never met.  Seems a little weird right...well welcome to our lives :)  Long story short Dr. J has a step brother who happens to be an attorney on the other side of the country.  We share in-laws, Facebook, Instagram, and ironically because of our age, religion, marriages, ages of our children and position in life sort of are living parallel lives...anyway I'm sure if we ever do meet I'll love her because she's pretty and fun and cool, and she unfortunately would just get stuck with me...sorry E but no coolness here ;-)  BUT, one of the things she introduced me to is this band Imagine Dragons.  She is really into them.  High school friends maybe? relatives? I'm not sure, I just know she is connected to them in some way and that because of her I stated listening to them and paying attention to what was going on with them, and they rock.  I mean really. They are sort of getting huge right now so if you haven't heard of them you might be living under a rock but on the off chance you don't know who I'm talking about let me introduce you to Imagine Dragons, Las Vegas raised, and their rocking song Radioactive.  I've listened to their live version probably twenty times just today and it's great, I mean just amazing, but today I also found this cover of it done by Lindsey Stirling and Pentatonix and I loved it as well.  To my children, in case you were wondering why I want you all to play the piano it really has nothing to do with trying to saddle you with church callings playing in primary, instead it it is because I want you to be able to choose any musical direction you want and if that direction just happens to be stings well then know your dad and I will pay for the lessons, because there is nothing I love better then when string instruments meet up with rock, feel free to blame my embarrassing teen obsession with Apocalyptica :)

Books to Read (OR NOT!)

I used to read all the time but three things have taken a major cut into my reading time.

1) My beautiful children.  A mother reading is like a blinking billboard saying, "Jump on me."
2) My Iphone and all the media it puts right into my hands.  That's right Hulu +, PBS on my phone, Netflix...you guys are putting a major cut into my reading time.
3) Finally my scratched cornea.  Two years ago baby Peach scratched my cornea.  The wound has mostly healed but my left eye still is/will always be a little blurry.  The result is reading for a long time gives me a headache.  It is like my brain keeps trying to correct the blur and when it can't it just doubles down and tries harder.  It can be exceptionally frustrating and has cut down on the amount of time I'm willing to sit reading.

The result, a girl who used to read a book a week in the very least is lucky to read a book a month.  A book a month???  I feel like I've lost my mind.  But that is where I'm at.  So these are the books I've read most recently.

John Grisham - The Racketeer.  A Wish I Hadn't Read.  Seriously the worst Grisham book ever.  I have a soft spot for Grisham since he was the one who first got me into mysteries, but seriously just not the best.  Grisham specializes in a flawed character who has a good heart.  I just never felt it, and if you hate your protagonist then what is the point.

Attica Locke - The Cutting Season.  I was reading this at the same time I was reading The Racketeer.  The Cutting Stone was definitely better.  It is a mystery about a migrant worker found dead on a historical plantation.  The mystery is sort of secondary to Caren Gray the protagonist trying to figure out what to do with her life.  I wouldn't say I enjoyed it, but I would definitely say it was better than the John Grisham.  Maybe Grisham it is time to take a little break.  

David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas - I decided to pick this book up because I knew Tom Hanks was in the movie and I love Tom Hanks.  Good grief it was a chore.  You have seven stories going on that loosely weave together.  You get each one in a half and then move on to the next so I spent the first half of the book feeling like nothing was being finished.  Then finally we got to the second half.  Unfortunately at that point I just didn't care anymore.  It was a headache.  

Finally the only book in the group I'd want to read again Leigh Bardugo - Shadow and Bone.  It is a teen drama book, so big surprise there for me right?  Well I was surprised because the last two series I've tried to start I hated.  Sorry Divergent, I just didn't like you, and Matched I didn't like you either.  Youth books I've loved, The Hunger Games (OBSESSED WOULD BE THE BETTER CHOICE), Harry Potter, Artimis Fowl, The Last Apprentice  The Host but none of the Twilight books.  I can't explain my taste but this one I knew I liked two pages in.  I started it at the gym while I was on the elliptical and had it done before the kids came home.  The positives, it was a quick read, it is a singular book so no finishing it and realizing you have three more years for the series to be finished, romance, magic, a dark lord, a protagonist who doesn't realize her own beauty.  This must be how a good majority of woman feel in their teen years because pretty much every girl youth book is written that way.  Anyway I loved it and would read it again in a heart beat.  Congratulations this is my winner of the four.