A Boy's Life: A Story in Pictures (aka Mom is too tired to write anything of substance.)

I know.  It's been a while.  Like four months.  But, perhaps after looking at these pictures that highlight a few of our summer-time and fall adventures, you'll understand why I'm strapped for time.  Enjoy!

 

 

L atop his perch.

18th Century Slumber Party

Will work for cookies.



"So I says to Mabel, I says..."

Future plumber.

Chocolate pudding always tastes better when licked off the table.

Pants are overrated.

S lurking in the background.

Helping Dad retrieve cars from under the oven.

Get to work.

They began the night in their own beds.

This Happened.

A picture of my most recent parenting fail:




Hideous Lighting McQueen sandals that light up!

But how could I say "no" to this little boy?  He was so excited when he spotted them FROM ACROSS THE STORE (it's like he has Disney radar!).



S rockin' his new kicks.

Fine, you win this round, Disney.  Who am I kidding?  You're probably going to win the next 100 rounds.  I have a theory that if Disney wanted to, they could mobilize toddlers across the world in minutes, wreaking havoc and bringing down society as we know it.

Sign of the times?  Possibly.  Just one more reason to have food storage.

Milestones

Yeah, I know, it's been a while.  I began with a "Look at me!  I'm starting a blog!" burst of energy, which clearly waned, but I'm back for now.  I may not have been writing (because I just don't have the time and/or energy most days), but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking or taking note of all kinds of things to write about.  I really need to carry around a journal to record my thoughts as they come to me.  Actually, I *need* an iPad, but that's a whole other story.

I recently returned from a trip to Phoenix where my youngest sister, Brandy, graduated from high school.  I can remember being in the hospital and holding her after she was born and now she has a high school diploma and nose piercings.  Ca-razy.



Siblings

It was blistering hot the whole time I was there, but it was fabulous to visit with a small group of family and friends.  If you're reading this and thinking, "Umm, I didn't see you while you were here!" consider this my formal apology.  I really tried to get around as much as I could.  However, I didn't have my own car, there are a lot of you and one of me and I was truly there to celebrate Brandy's graduation.  Love you!

John took the week off of work and stayed home with the boys.  We had originally wanted to go as a family, but that small issue of being able to afford it kept coming up.   This worked out great because, although I missed the boys terribly, it gave me a break and it gave John some precious time alone with his guys.  They went to the park every day, played cars, got dirty and I'm sure bathing was limited.  Of course, in true John fashion, when I returned home I was greeted with flowers, everything was immaculate and there was freshly baked banana bread on the stove.  You don't have to tell me how lucky I am (I was married once before, remember?).  John is constantly doing things like this without ever being asked.  We certainly have our differences and conflict, but it is truly minor compared to what it could be.  Despite that, I sometimes feel like a failure when he seems to "outshine" me.  This sounds incredibly petty and self-centered on my part.  It's not so much that we're in competition, because we're not, it's that being home with the boys full time is difficult for me most days.  I guess I just want to know that John has his parenting struggles too. 

The older the boys get, the more fun we have and the easier it has become for me.  I still have moments every day where I want to run screaming from the house, where I can't bare to change another poopy diaper (we had six SEVEN poopy diapers today alone), and I end the day completely wiped out.  To quote a good friend, having really little children is really, really hard.

And that brings me to a hypothesis I have formulated.  I do not believe this is an original thought nor may it be applicable to everyone, but it certainly describes my short 2 1/2 year stint in parenthood thus far.  Here it is:

A person will be subjected to the highest emotional highs and the lowest emotional lows throughout the parenthood experience. 

This is not to say that one cannot experience euphoria or despair outside of parenthood, because you certainly can.  I know I have in my own life.  But the frequency and the ease with which you experience this range of feelings within parenthood is unique.  This is why parenthood is so hard, but also so rewarding.

I believe my hypothesis is supported by statements found within the book, The God Who Weeps: How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life by Terryl and Fiona Givens.  Beautifully written (many passages read as prose), this book delves into some of the most basic and difficult questions humans have about God: Is there a God?  For what purpose did He create us?  Is He a harsh and cruel God, or kind and loving?  Does He deserve our love and adoration?  Do we, as humans, cause Him pain, or is He above suffering?

Among other things, Brother and Sister Givens come to the conclusion that "humans and their world do matter to God" and that, as His children, "His heart is set upon us".   God is not above suffering, nor can He avoid it.  They continue:

"God chooses to love us.  And if love means responsibility, sacrifice, vulnerability, then God's decision to love us is the most stupendously sublime moment in the history of time.  He chooses to love even at, necessarily at, the price of vulnerability...His freely made choice to inaugurate and sustain costly loving relationships is the very core of His divine identity."

Furthermore:

"...it turns out...that God is not exempt from emotional pain.  God's pain is as infinite as His love.  He weeps because He feels compassion.  As the Lord explains to Enoch, 'unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood...and misery shall be their doom; and the whole heavens shall weep over them, even all the workmanship of mine hands; wherefore should not the heavens weep, seeing these shall suffer?'  It is not their wickedness, but their 'misery,' not their disobedience, but their 'suffering,' that elicits the God of Heaven's tears." (Emphasis added.)

If God feels such infinite pain because of our misery, why then, would He have created us at all?  He created us and loves us because the joy He derives from our successes, our progress and our happiness exceeds all of the costs associated with loving us.  And this is parenting.  This is why I choose to be a parent: the love I feel for my boys and the immense happiness I feel simply because of their existence outweighs the difficulty, the pain and the heartache. 

As I type this, L is sitting in his high chair, eating pizza and making farting noises with his mouth, completely oblivious to anything else that is going on in the world.  His ability to make me laugh make all the poopy diapers totally worth it.

Here's L with puffed rice stuck to his face.  Classic L.

If you give a boy a cake...

We were finally able to properly celebrate L's first birthday and my boy did not disappoint!  We like to keep things low-key and celebrated with our friends, Brittni and Vickie.  Nannie (my mom) was supposed to be in attendance as well, but she got tied up with work.  Evidence that work is lame.

We began by opening presents.  L was not terribly interested but, lucky for him, Big Brother S was very happy to tear the paper from the gifts and dig into the new toys!  What would the world do without big brothers who are ready and waiting to steal your thunder, I mean, help out? 

 

After presents, the big moment had arrived: CAKE!  I shall admit here and now that I used a box mix and canned frosting to make this cake.  Somewhat blasphemous in this day and age of organic/grow-the-wheat-grind-the-flour-make-everything-from-scratch, which I am typically obliged to do.  However, it has been a busy month and I was tired.  Plus, if you can't consume chemical laden sweets on your birthday, when can you consume them? USA! USA!

Side note: has anyone else noticed that the more technologically advanced we become, the more there is this movement to recapture the old ways of doing things?  I think this is most evident in the realm of food; shunning the technologically altered food for that which is "organic" or, really, the way food used to be grown and prepared (let's not ignore the interest in vintage fashions, up-cycling, etc).  This is not a criticism, but I find it to be an interesting juxtaposition. I, too, prefer to recapture the ways of my great-grandparents: growing a garden, storing up food via canning, preparing things from scratch with love and a bit of elbow grease.  Okay, back to the reason you're here...the Birthday Boy!

 

 

"Did I do that?" (use your Urkle voice when reading this caption)
 

A good time was had by all, and isn't that what makes the best birthday memories?  I have no idea what I would do without these crazy boys in my life.  Besides their father, they are by far two of the biggest blessings I have ever been given.  The sacrifices I have made truly do not compare to what they have added to my life.

Perfection

L turned one year old last week and I can hardly believe it (side note: we'll be celebrating this weekend, so there will be pictures to come).  This year truly has gone by so fast.  This may sound negative, although that is not my intent, but S's first year of life seemed to go by so slowly.  I counted every week, keeping track of his exact age constantly.  I tracked every milestone and checked them off in my head as he grew.  But now, having two Goobies, I barely have time to get them into clean diapers let alone track how many months, weeks, days, hours and minutes L has lived.  With S, I was terrified that if I didn't obsess track his progress he'd somehow never cut teeth or figure out how to walk.  With L, I am so much more relaxed, despite being even more busy, and it has proven to be a much more pleasant parenting experience.  And, without my obsessing tracking, L is cutting teeth, on the verge of walking, and feeding himself just fine.  Progress achieved.




Happy Birthday L!
 

I believe all new mothers experience this to some degree.  But, it is also a fact that obsession attention to detail is makes up the very fiber of my being.  I can't help it.  After some time in therapy as a young adult, I learned that my need to control and "keep up appearances" stemmed from my feeling out of control as a child.  As the oldest child, I was already predestined to become a perfectionist.  Being surrounded by a chaotic environment just added to my desire to control and protect.  This served me well in academia, but it did not serve me well in my first marriage nor in other relationships.  My desire for perfection, which does not enable me to admit failure easily, kept me in an abusive marriage for longer than I should have been.  In fact, it was some of those same reasons that put me in that marriage to begin with, ignoring red flags and other's protestations. 

I also have a very bad habit of internalizing others' problems to the point where it begins to affect me emotionally and physically.  In my mind, obsessing over something makes me feel like I'm doing something.  If I think about it long enough, I'll be able to solve whatever the problem is.  The issue with that is I end up obsessing over things I have absolutely no control over and I end up getting sick, frustrated, overwhelmed and depressed. 

I learned a great exercise in therapy that helped me to understand what I was doing and how to re-train my brain.  Choosing to not obsess over things that are outside of my control does not mean that I don't care, that I don't love, that I don't have charity.  It means that I am going to find the things I can do, do them, and not allow myself to be torn down in the process.  In a way, it's exerting charity towards myself.  Here's the exercise: you get two cups.  Label one with your name (in my case, "Brooke") and the other with the name of Jesus.  Every evening, write down on individual slips of paper what you are worried about, bothered by, stressing out about, etc.  Then, one by one, assess what you have written out and ask yourself, "Do I truly have control over this?" If you do, it goes in your cup.  If you don't, it goes in Jesus' cup.  You are allowed to pull items out of your cup one at a time to form action plans.  Anything in Jesus' cup, you can't touch.  You can't even think about it.  You have turned it over the Lord and it now belongs to Him.  If you try to retrieve that problem for yourself, you are stealing from the Lord and NO ONE wants to be guilty of that!  Every time I began to obsess about something I'd say to myself, "This belongs to the Lord.  Stop stealing!" and then I'd strive to refocus my thoughts.  Sometimes this required prayer, and that was totally within the rules.

The foundation of this exercise is having faith that Jesus can do what He's promised to do.  You have to believe that He can heal all afflictions, all infirmities, and that He can make all right.  You also have to accept that your time line does not necessarily line up with the Lord's time line.  And, the hardest part of all (for me, anyways) you have to accept and respect the free agency of others.  Individuals have to make their own choices and you can't force anything otherwise.  (But, let's be honest, it would be nice to be able to revoke someone's agency for a short time now and again.)

And, now, here I am: a perfectionist among toddlers.  Talk about irony!  While it has been a bumpy transition, S and L are teaching me so much and John's love and support have been invaluable.  I've had to let things go: the house can't be perfect all of the time or even most of the time, there will always be food one someone's clothes and the dogs have to go longer in between their baths.  Sure, we all stink, but I'm not flipping out anywhere near as much as I used to!  Progress achieved. 

Delish!

Sacrifice

Sacrifice – to give up, to forgo, to forfeit, to surrender, to let go

Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, which kicks off the Lenten Season.  But, wait a minute here, Brooke!  You’re Mormon!  Mormons don’t observe Lent!

Yes, officially, that is true.  However, I’m not exactly sure why because the entire idea behind Lent, a season of sacrifice preparing us for Easter and the celebration of Christ’s Atonement and Resurrection, fits perfectly into our doctrine and teachings.  We fast from food for 24 hours once every month and use the money we would have spent on food to donate to the poor.  We fast from food when we are seeking answers to questions, when someone is sick or afflicted in some way, when we simply want to feel closer to Heavenly Father.  Fasting should always be coupled with prayer and meditation, giving one the opportunity to feel the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.

Okay, back to Lent.  John is the one who taught me about Lent.  Growing up Catholic, he’s observed it for as long as he can remember.  When he and I began to date again, I decided that I would join him in observing this season.  There are a couple of rules:

1.      You may not consume meat on Ash Wednesday or on Fridays.  From my understanding, this is supposed to be done in remembrance of times of famine.  It used to be that you abstained from meat for the whole 40 days, but that was later changed.

2.      You are supposed to sacrifice something in your life for 40 days.  John clarified this for me a few years ago that you may also add something good to your daily routine (in essence, sacrificing your time).

I know I’m missing details, but the point is to sacrifice something for the Lord since He has made the ultimate sacrifice for us.  I think it’s beautiful.  This year, John and I have committed to diligently reading our scriptures every day, without fail, in honor of Lent.  This is a goal of ours generally, but we typically fail.  Lent gives us the perfect opportunity and motivation to really stick with it.

This serendipitously coincided with my reading of a book for the book group I attend once a month.  This month’s book was No More Goodbyes: Circling the Wagons around Our Gay Loved Ones by Carol Lynn Pearson.  Let me start off by saying that EVERYONE should read this book!  Ms. Pearson is Mormon, and the book primarily focuses on being homosexual in the Mormon culture, but it certainly applies to anyone of any faith who wants to understand more; who wants to empathize with something they don’t quite understand and in the process become a better Christian.

The books is a series of true stories, some tragic and some triumphant. The description found on the back of the book is as follows:

In No More Goodbyes, Pearson revisits the challenging subject of religious people relating to their gay loved ones who are often condemned by their church and – many believe – by God.  Through stories gathered from the microcosm of Mormonism, it becomes clear how this emotional earthquake affects families of all faiths

Being a Mormon and having a gay brother (and many other gay loved ones in my life) has been a confusing tightrope walk.  On one hand, I love my faith!  I choose this faith and I have never regretted that decision.  On the other hand, I love my brother more than words can express and watching him feel as if he is being torn in two is heartbreaking and crushing.  It took me some time to realize that I don’t have to choose between the two!  I can have dissenting feelings about some of the Church’s strategies and decisions, support my brother in his struggle to find and acquire the life that he feels is right for him and remain loyal to both!

I personally believe that there is no detriment to the traditional family or our society by allowing gay individuals to marry.  Denying marriage licenses is not going to keep gay couples from building lives together, forming families, and being a part of our communities.  Coming from a faith with a history of non-traditional marriages (i.e. polygamy), I feel Mormons should be most understanding of all. 

There is one thing that is completely clear to me, regardless of your feelings about this issue, regardless of your religious beliefs or sexual orientation: the anger and the bitterness has to stop (I say this to heterosexuals and LGBTQIA individuals alike)!  The alienation has to stop!  The taking of one’s life because they feel unworthy, and out of place or rejected HAS TO STOP!   Life is a precious gift given to us by our Heavenly Father and we need to band together to help everyone make the most of this gift.  And by doing so, we will make the most of our lives.  Love and making the effort to understand, even if you don’t ultimately agree, is always constructive.  This applies to religious people who disagree with those who act on their homosexual feelings and to those who do not agree with someone’s religious beliefs. 

I think this entire issue also assumes that LGBTQIA individuals are not and cannot be religious.  That they don’t love God and that they don’t want to follow a faith.  This is preposterous!  There are many faithful and religious people with different sexual orientations and I know for a fact that Heavenly Father loves them all unconditionally. 

I believe that people should have the right to choose the life they wish to lead; what they feel is right.  Many people disagree with the Mormon Church, but I believe that it is true and this is the right lifestyle for me.  I want others to be able to make this choice for themselves as well because I believe in free agency.  I believe every person should feel welcome in any faith tradition since, at the foundation of every tradition, is the Golden Rule.  That we should strive to love individuals because they are Children of God and, as such, are our brothers and sisters.

I join my plea with that of Ms. Pearson: no more sacrifice of families, of people and of life.  I am committed to this and I hope you will be too. 

On a lighter note, here are some pictures of L and S playing at the See Science Center in Manchester, NH!

Chef L (I know, my camera stinks)

Chef S