A Repeat of Childhood--Battling this One Alone

I think I may be on to something…..

I have a child who struggles. He doesn't struggle in school or at church, but he definitely struggles at home.

For the past two-plus years, I've been begging our pediatrician to test his blood…..I have a suspicion.

Why his blood, you ask? Because this isn't the only boy I've known who struggles like this…..I was raised with a boy who dealt with similar issues.

Let me describe these "struggles….."

What I'm referring to is aggression, violence, and just downright meanness. Not all the time, mind you, but enough that it disrupts everyone and everything in the home.

This started for my son when he was about four or five (possibly younger). This is when I recall it becoming very noticeable. For my brother, I started to notice it when I was about six.

LDS missions are huge blessings in many ways. It's funny how often missionaries, during that time period, will find answers to some of the major obstacles from their earlier lives--I know I did. It's almost like God says, "Well, you're willing to serve me? I will reward you with this answer."

Such was the situation with my brother. I may have the facts wrong here because I'm going off my memory, but he was serving in an area and encountered a woman who noticed something about him. She recognized that he was struggling with something she had a lot of experience with. She took him aside and said, "I can help you." She pricked his finger, took a couple blood tests, and found that he had hypoglycemia. This would cause huge mood swings--Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde type behaviors.

With my son, I have waited for him to outgrow some of the behaviors he's shown. I just thought they were part of him and part of his growing up, but those behaviors haven't decreased, if anything, they've increased markedly.

Some of the things he did were very familiar to me….He was also Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-like.

Like I said, I approached the pediatrician about this a few years ago. She refused. Why? I'm still not sure, but it seems that a diagnosis of hypoglycemia is somehow attached to diabetes and since my son has no other symptoms that might lead that diagnosis, it was ridiculous to do a blood test on him. I'm thinking hypoglycemia was over-diagnosed in the '80s, so they got rid of it as its own thing. Nowadays, they diagnose many with ADD or ADHD who might have originally had more of the symptoms of this other disorder.

I finally got a counselor. It was all I could do. The first counselor was HIDEOUSLY BAD!--maybe this will become a future post. When a counselor for your child asks to see you without your child for the first appointment, run the other direction as quickly as you can. Ugh! The new counselor is delightful! She has helped us deal with many of the behaviors, but the underlying cause remains. I think it's because we've been able to handle his outbursts better that we've noticed the pattern that seems to be taking shape.

What was happening was within 20 minutes of eating, this kid would become crazy--usually family clown or quite aggressive. Up until breakfast, things would be going great--sweet boy comes in, snuggles in bed, hugs, etc. Just your regular, everyday wonderful child, but within moments of breakfast, craziness would ensue. Without fail, he'd be late to school and would be only partially together--backpack? Left at home. Homework? Also, at home. Jacket? Guess where….Yup. At home. The leaving of things was only part of the battle. It was the meanness, the destroying of others' self-esteem that really HAD to stop.

This went on day after day. Time would pass, and he'd calm again. On weekdays, I don't see him after lunch, but he has a very balanced lunch, for the most part, and goes to recess immediately after, so I have received very few comments from anyone about him and his behavior. After dinner, though, on some nights, it would happen all over again. Some nights were WAY worse than others.

One day last week, it hit the lowest point EVER. This was IT!

What I finally decided was to tweak his diet. With this pattern coming into focus, this HAS to be related to something he's eating or something he's not.

Now, I'm not one of these new age food people--I have no desire to live THAT long, but if you've read other things I've written, you know that I steer far away from openly artificial ingredients. In short, my kids'd say that they were deprived. We don't do soda, most chips, a lot of junk, or even juice.

For my brother, with the hypoglycemia diagnosis came a change in diet--eat smaller meals more often (something you hear frequently these days anyway), more protein, less sugar.

I spoke with my mother by marriage yesterday to bounce these ideas off of her. As we talked, there were two ideas that came to light that I think we're going to try…..First, for three days, we're going to feed him as few carbs/sugars as humanly possible and go way heavy on the proteins and track what he's been fed and how he's behaved both before and after meals. Second, I'm going to set up an appointment with the pediatrician. I'm going to see if we can go in in his normal, everyday sweet-self state and meet with her for five minutes. At the end of that time, I'm going to feed him a candybar. I

Okay, maybe a bit extreme,
but you get the idea.

will ask the doctor to come back in 20 minutes later to see if there is any difference in this child. Will there be a difference? I don't know, but at least it might shed a little light on the current status of things for both of us.

This morning, we started the day with a high protein breakfast--
eggs and bacon. Oh, and just to be absolutely sure to throw as much protein as I could at him, I let him have a half of a pepperoni stick (the breakfast of champions, no?).

I am overwhelmingly happy to report that we had NO ISSUES this morning--not a one. He was at school on time with everything he needed.

Could I be on to something? I guess time and experience will tell.

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Ten Random Minutes: The Most Important Trait to Teach

School has been canceled because of snow. It's 7:20 in the morning, everyone but one boy, reading in his bed, is still sleeping. I have been awake since 5am. Husband seems to be ill, so even though it's a day off for everyone else, life remains the same; although, maybe a wee bit more complicated--taking care of a sick husband while trying to keep the noise level down with six extra people in the house--for me.

I want to stray from the specific missionary-related topics I've been writing on lately. The next bunch of things I have to write about are tricky. They are important and a bit sensitive, so I'm not quite sure how to get them down in writing.

I guess, for today, I just want to write about randomness (I have no clue where this is going to go)….


I have learned over the past few years just how vitally important my role is. I am the queen bee. I am the line drawer. If something's going to happen around here, I'm the instigator, the planner, the scheduler, the follow-through-er. I am it.

Some may say, where's your husband in all of this? But let's be real. He has his own world at work. That's where he's in charge. It's there that he has to instigate, plan, schedule, etc. He doesn't do that in both places. He shouldn't have to, and he's not here most of the time….I am. I have the full picture of just how our home runs.

I have been learning the importance of obedience, and not just obedience, quick and exact obedience. These are values I learned from childhood, but I don't believe my parents required them as much as I do from my own children, and lately, I'll admit, I've been slacking….BIG TIME!

I learned how very vital obedience is on my mission. This is one thing I appreciate #1's Mission President for. He is very much like my mission presidents. Obedience is job one. Once I learned, hearing from other missionary parents, that he was all about missionaries being obedient, I was able to relax and enjoy the ride. I knew my daughter was in the right place under the right leadership. I knew she'd be safe and that she'd learn life's important lessons.

As a parent, I figure my role is to show my kids just a glimpse of what God might be like. Not that I'm their god, but my character traits should be so close to His in justice, mercy, kindness, generosity, consistency, etc.--inasmuch as a human being can muster these characteristics--that they come to know Him by interacting with me. I figure my example is CRUCIAL to how they learn to trust and how they grow to be moral people.

One thing I want for my children is what #1 is now experiencing day-to-day. She's learning, in real time, to trust God. She is learning to listen with her whole heart. She is learning to obey the voices that she hears as they strike her mind and her heart at the same time. She is also learning from her mistakes as she, at times, ignores some of those whisperings she receives. This, to me, is one reason why I want my children to choose to serve missions. This is why I think it's so important.

For now, in my home, they learn to obey me in preparation to learning to obey God. Like I said before, I sometimes slack on my job. I have noticed that the words, "Yah, I'll get to it" and "Just a minute" and sometimes, heaven forbid, even outright "No" are used increasingly around this house. I am learning, the hard way, that this cannot be. I need to rally my troops and bring them back to where they need to be.

I figure our home is their training ground. I realize that if they can learn to say, "Okay, Mom" and "I'm on it" and "Coming" now, while they're in my home, the greater the chance is that, when they're out on their own, they'll be able to say "Yes" and "Here I am" when they are called and sent forward by a greater power….Not just on their missions but in life in general.

This is what I desire for my children. This is what I want for their futures--that they might recognize the voice of God and learn to follow it obediently throughout their lives.


Now, to take care of the sickie and hold down the din. Off to send some kids out to the snow….and off to figure out just how to write these upcoming posts…..

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What I Learned from Silent "L"

When I was a child, I remember learning how to read. I recall the word "would" showing up on the page. I was a good reader, but it took me FOREVER to learn that word.

As we read in class, I remember my turn to read would come up. Without fail, as I'd hit that word, someone would blurt it out so that I wouldn't have to struggle with sounding it out and take valuable time stumbling over that silent "l." Over and over this happened.

Then, one day, I was sitting at home reading silently to myself. Suddenly, there was a word that held me up. It wasn't a long word, and I knew every letter in it, but I sat there and struggled. I tried to sound it out. I recall slowly sounding each letter out--W-O-U-L-D. I said it out loud, "Would." What word was that? I had never heard a word like that before. I had to have been reading it wrong.

Finally, I figured out that the words around it might help me figure it out. Sure enough. That word was "would!" Pronounced "wood." Got it! It clicked. From that point on, whenever I saw "W-O-U-L-D," I knew that it was pronounced "wood." I never struggled with it again.

You might ask why this is so significant to me now. Why would I even remember something so simple as this? Here is why.....And yes, my explanation will require another little story....

When #1 was about seven, I signed her up for swimming lessons. As she came out of the locker room and headed to the pool, with panic on her face, she shared that she had forgotten her towel.

My first instinct was to tell her to go ahead and go to her lesson. I'd run home and get her towel. I'd be back just in time for the end of the lesson. Something stopped me...."Would" stopped me.

I thought through the scenario....If I "read over it" for her, would she ever learn to "read" it?

Instead of grabbing my car keys and making a run for the parking lot, I chose otherwise. I told her how sad I was that she'd forgotten it, and I wasn't lying. I really WAS sorry. I went and grabbed my seat in the stands and proudly watched my daughter learn a new skill.

At the end of the lesson, #1 came shivering from the pool. She scurried, because "no running" allowed, to the locker room, showered, and clumsily pulled her clothes onto her wet body. Was I sad for her? You'd better believe it. Did I feel guilty because I could have solved her problem? Oh, yes, but again, "would" stopped me.

Sometimes (dare I say often?), teaching our children is painful. Sometimes, just because we are the grown ups and have been there, done that, and have the means to rescue them and thus relieve them (and ourselves) from any amount of discomfort, we feel that that's our duty. 

I was pretty sure that after that, #1"would" never forget her towel again. She had been allowed to have the full experience of "sounding it out" herself. 

Actually, the next week, as we walked through the door to the pool, #1 smiling, proudly, pulled her towel from her bag: "Look, Mom. I brought my towel." I never had to remind her about her towel again. That doesn't mean I didn't have to remind her about other things, but I guess shivering wasn't her idea of a good time, so the towel thing was covered.

I would propose that it is more important for us to use those feelings to react compassionately toward our children. It's in the allowing them to have the full experience. That the true learning takes place.

So, why do these stories pop into my head this morning? Well, as we were heading out the door to school this morning, one of my children started to walk out the front door without shoes or socks on. I noticed, but I said nothing. I knew that within a few steps out onto the deck, he'd figure it out and run back in, but before that experience could teach the lesson, his older brother called out, "SHOES!"

DARN! I guess that lesson will be reserved for another occasion. I "would" think there will be one.

Sadly, though, I do need to add an obvious note here: 

If a child is in mortal danger, for heaven's sake, rescue him/her (Did I really need to add that?). If it is a situation in which the child really can't fix it him/herself (for example, my daughter taking care of her fraud situation while she was heading to the MTC), you will have to step in and take care of things. 

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A Rockin' Day

Two bads, three goods, folks....Away we go!


Bads

• Had to do a timed three-mile walk today, so while #5 was having soccer practice, I went out with my little Nike+ thingy in my shoe and went for it on the track. As I would walk around the track and would get to the far side, each time, I would pass this extremely awkward couple that had draped themselves across lanes 7 and 8. They were in a rather intimate position there, so I tried not to look but pretended that the soccer field was so very interesting.

As I would pass, they would laugh. I didn't think much of it until #6 ran toward me on the track to hug me. As he did so, I said, "Are you coming to walk with me?" Within moments, as if there were a parrot behind me, a woman's voice (the one draped over lane 7) was mimicking me. Hmm....Interesting. I continued to walk. Whatev. Just strange. Haven't experienced anything like that since maybe....middle school?

• Cub Scout day camp rocked, but port-a-potties didn't. They were actually very nice port-a-potties, as those kinds of things go, but still....If I can avoid using the facilities in times like these, I will. Well, it couldn't be avoided all day long...unfortunately.

Goods

• I'm going to see if I can explain this as briefly as possible but still have it make sense. When things started out with our day camp registration, we had quite a few boys going. Because of this, four of our boys were going to be combined with another smaller den of boys--a group our boys didn't know. 

As of yesterday, boys were dropping out, so we ended up with only needing to have one group. But, because we were leaving this other group in the lurch as far as leaders were concerned, we promised them we'd provide an additional leader for them for today, as was originally promised, so that they could find an additional leader for each of the other days this week. Does that make sense?

Well, today, I was that leader for the other group. It was the SWEETEST group of boys. There were four of them. Because there were only four, there were open spots on the archery range, so we, the two adults, were invited to join in. I had never shot a bow and arrow before. It was SO fun! I actually got two bull's eyes. Yeehaw!

It was fun to go to day camp and get to be one of the guys. Our last station was the bottle rockets. Thought I'd share just what the bottle rocket station entailed with a short video of #5 (Thanks, Jon!):

Our little group followed my own ward's group (with #5 in it) all day. I met up with them just as they were moving on to the next station.

As I said before, water rockets was our last station before going home. We got in there and started filling the bottles halfway, putting them on, and pumping the air into the bottles. The rockets would fly into the sky and droplets of water would fall on you.

Well, I was hot. I was tired. And those little droplets of water just weren't cutting it, so I turned to the boys and said, "I want to get wet." Well, that was all the invitation those boys needed. We spent the next 20 or 30 minutes dousing each other with water. We were running and laughing and having a BLAST! Just when I thought it was over and I'd start to dry, another boy would come along surreptitiously and pour water on me.

Seriously, I've volunteered at day camp for at least a day almost every year since #2 went (he's now 17), and this was by far my favorite memory. We even ambushed one of the staffers that just kept hanging out in the area.

When all was said and done, I stood there and the boys gathered 'round, big, huge smiles on their faces, water dripping from everything--hair, eyelashes, earlobes, and they asked, "Are you coming tomorrow?"

That made me so happy. I felt so loved and wanted.

Seriously, what a great day! I LOVED being one of the guys.

• We went to dinner as a family. I found a gift certificate for $15 for a local restaurant on restaurant.com and paid $2.40 for it. Our good friends walked in as we were eating and were seated in the table right behind us. FUN! Love you, Megan!
• Went to pick #2 and #3 up from EFY. I LOVE this experience! These kids are so enthusiastic and happy when they come home. It's fabulous. They told us about all the new friends they made and how they went about doing it. I budget money specifically for this experience for my kids all year long so that they can go and participate. Every year, I decide that it was definitely worth it and the following summer will include the same activity.

Okay, so in other news, #4 took off for scout camp at 5:15 this morning. From what I understand, he signed up for a basketry class and a horseback riding class. He is also going to have a survival experience one night (at least, I think it was only going to be for one night).

He woke me at 4am so that we could run and get him some last minute snacks to have for today. I jumped out of bed, and we hit the road. Should be a fun week for him.

Since he's gone, and I'm missing him tonight, I have to share one thing that #4 does that makes me giggle inside (Sorry, this was the only clip I could find that had the part I wanted. It doesn't even happen until 2:36 into the video--the very tail end. If you want to skip ahead, please do, but this scene is all so classic, so you may not want to. The winking part? AWESOME!)....

Whenever one of us says "I love you" to the other, we always follow it up with that last little thing Ferris does, the "I love you too. Mi mi mi mi" thing. Today, one of the kids said "I love you" to me. Of course, I said, "I love you too." But, "Mi mi mi mi," popped right into my head, and I instantly missed #4.

Tomorrow will be a day spent at home getting a package ready to send off to #1--getting a blanket and cookies made. I have some work to do and an interesting post to write for the Oregon Association of American Mothers, Inc. I'm looking forward to spending time with #s 6 and 7--just the three of us. I promised them chocolate peanut butter milkshakes at some point during the day.

Yep. Today was a good day. If I could spend everyday being a kid, man, I'd do it in a heartbeat, so glad I have the kids so I have the excuse. I just need to let my hair down more often. Who knows, maybe there'll be a water fight here tomorrow. I don't think I quite got my fill. Except, next time, I won't be wearing jeans and Converse.

Ugh! There's Proof

Many times I've told people that #7's just like I was as a child. I honestly don't think people have believed me. Well, this morning, I went to Facebook. A friend from Japan had "liked" a few of my photos during the night.....

There you have it....Proof.

Yup. There's one in every crowd. I just happened to provide it for my crowd. She provides it for ours.

I'd now like to apologize to my mother....

I Cannot Be My Mother

My mother did EVERYTHING for us kids. Seriously, everything--laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, you name it, she did it. Yes, I was VERY spoiled. By the time I left home, I knew how to dust and set a dinner table. Please don't judge my mother by this. She was an only child raising six children. I firmly believe she was doing the best she knew how and those were different times.

Because of that, though, I decided that as a mother I would do things differently. My children would learn how to do for themselves, and for the most part, they have.

This morning started out rough and led me into my mother's life (for the second time). Let me explain....

We, the Warden and I, began with a conversation surrounding the topic of a habit one of our children is adopting that might not bode well for the future. Such is the case with bad habits, right? In discussing this, I explained my opinion that this wasn't something that could be forced. We had to somehow help this child come to the conclusion that this wasn't a good thing and that the child would have to somehow decide to change it. We could not force the change. All we could do was explain and attempt to persuade.

We finished our conversation, and I went to talk to the child. Things were easily understood, and an agreement was peacefully made. Phew! It honestly took about two minutes. But, I also added that if what we had agreed upon didn't work, we would have to come up with something more to take care of the problem. That also was understood. Did I already say "Phew?"

All was seemingly handled, but then it unraveled before my eyes. We walked to the kitchen, and the Warden completely sabotaged my efforts. That child stormed out of the house and walked to school--no breakfast, no lunch in hand, nothing. Ugh!

I'm sure the Warden didn't mean to sabotage me. We hadn't even had a chance to discuss the terms of the treaty I'd pushed for yet. Did I already say "Ugh?"

image: tumblr.com

Add to this picture the fact that when said child walked out the door, I thought all that had happened was that the child had gotten into the car for the customary ride to school. I sent #7 out with a peanut butter sandwich (very like my mom would have done), so that the child, who has sports after school wouldn't collapse while doing said sports.

#7, after a few moments, rang the doorbell, she had accidentally locked herself out. We opened the door, and there she was standing there with her little blonde head against the wall, tears spilling onto the uneaten sandwich. Her words as she sobbed: "[Child]'s not there."This was when I understood how angry the older child really was.

image: theatlantic.com

Let's add to this picture, shall we? Immediately after that car drove away with its occupants, the last remaining children were milling around the kitchen. One of those kids comes to me and says, "We never have breakfast." In other words, we never have sugary cereals anymore.

That was IT! Really? Why is it that no one else around here can do what I do? I mean, that was the idea behind this motherhood thing, right? Teach them to do for themselves? Are they really this helpless?

image: mrbreakfast.com

I walked into the kitchen and showed the breakfast-less child the English muffins, oatmeal and bread. I explained about a dozen things that could be done with those ingredients.

I would like to step back in time for a moment....

Back to this, which was my rebuttal to some really ugly comments on this from March 4, 2011:

image: wakemedvoices.org

I confess

I made my 2nd grader go without lunch today.

My children make their own lunches.  They are given enough lunch money through their accounts at school to buy four lunches or one lunch a week for the month.  This particular child overdraws his account monthly.  It's to the point that the recorded voice from the school district calls and leaves messages daily about his account being overdrawn--they call until it's been paid off.  I only pay on the first of the month, so sometimes we're five days into the month when the calls start in.  He was warned last month that if he overdrew, it would be his last month with lunch money in his account.  So, you can see what happened.

Today, I volunteered in his classroom.  He came to me and told me he'd forgotten his lunch.  I told him I wished he would have told me earlier, so I could have brought it with me when I came to volunteer.  It was then that I found out he hadn't even made one.  His teacher was standing there--sweetest person in the universe.  She told me that he'd forgotten yesterday too.  She explained that she hadn't called because she was pretty sure what I would say.  This teacher is very good friends and a former co-worker with my mother by marriage, so she knows how things roll with the Hesses.  So #5 went hungry at lunch yesterday too.

I have full confidence that he'll start getting this.  Yesterday his teacher gave him some crackers to get him through the afternoon.  I thanked her.  She said she could do that again.  I asked her to please have him do something for her to compensate her for the crackers.  She agreed.

Do I sound like the worst mother in the world?  It all goes back to the idea of feeling entitled.  I don't want any of my children thinking that they can have what they want if they manipulate the system just right.

So, there will be a nice, healthy snack for him when he gets home today.  Like I said, I sure hope he learns this lesson soon.


Have I softened since that time? Maybe, but I don't think so. I am stressed about a child who goes off without breakfast and won't be home until after 5:00 tonight and will be doing sports in the meantime. I, however, wouldn't stress about a child who's had breakfast and misses lunch to come home to a substantial snack and dinner a couple hours later.

But, the child that went off without, set me off.

I decided that I'm tired of being sabotaged. I decided that if I'm the only one who cares, then I will be the only one who works. I will become my mother for awhile and see if there's maybe something I'm missing. I will touch every base. Every child will have a clean room and will be well fed. I will make sure of it ALL. They will wear the clean clothes I picked out for them.

At this point, I've finished four loads of laundry and three loads of dishes, fed seven people breakfast and four people lunch, put dinner in the crockpot, wiped tables and put clean tablecloths on, picked up #7 from preschool, visited the bank and deposited some checks, and welcomed two friends at my door. There is much else to do, and like my mother, I won't sleep tonight until they're done.

image: nairaland.com

I have to confess that doing this for a day makes me feel great love for my family. I now see why my mom did it for us. It was her way of showing selfless love, and in this I find my confusion. In serving them, I feel love for them, but what I've learned from teaching my children to do for themselves is that the greatest thing I've given them is self-esteem. When they are self-reliant, they come to see their own capabilities.

Is one right and the other wrong? I'm not sure, but I tend to think not.

Am I being a martyr? You'd better believe it, but I quickly learned that I can't do it grudgingly for very long. It has wrought a bit of a change on this morning's upset heart.

So, I wonder, will they notice my work and jump in to help? Yah, I doubt it too, but there was a little glimmer of hope this morning.....

#6 got up after all of this had gone down, having afternoon Kindergarten has its benefits. He asked what there was to eat. I told him about the bread, English muffins, and oatmeal. He immediately went for a bowl. He didn't sit around whining, begging me to get him a bowl, or to make it for him.

image: michelleprice.ca

Being in the mode I was, I think he was surprised when I took the bowl from him and poured the oatmeal and again when I took it from him as he was heading for the water and did it for him. I then took it, after he'd pulled it from the microwave and took over the job he was already doing of putting brown sugar in it. I think he was a bit confused as to what was going on. I think he wondered if I somehow found him incapable.

I was grateful to see that his natural tendency, at the age of six, is to do for himself. It isn't in his nature to sit around wondering who's going to serve him. He serves himself.

I have learned that my mom was wonder woman. How did she do this day after day after day?

Yes, I will continue this through today--picking up after everyone, every little thing they put down--but I don't know if I can do it like my mom did. Actually, I know I can't. I know my kids are capable of much more than sitting around, but this little perspective makes me appreciate my mom that much more. It reminds me to love and appreciate my family and all that they do and to overlook all of those things that I have been viewing as sabotage.

Maybe I need to find some balance--somewhere between me and my mom.

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A Little Step Back into Hesstory: Calvin and Me

image: 1000awesomethings.com

Forget Christmas Eve or the day before my birthday. You can even throw out the night before I got my driver's license, the night before my first date, and the night before every first day of school in my life. Last night was, without a doubt, the  most difficult sleep I've EVER had.

Here's the combination of last night's insomnia....First, the Warden was gone to the coast with a bunch of scouts. I never sleep well when he's gone. Second, #7 was up over and over and over again with a fever. I gave her some medicine and moved her into my bed, but then she would stretch out while she slept and push me to the outer limits of the king-size bed. Last and the most obvious reason, was that envelope  that currently sits by the head of #1's bed. All I had to do was think about that envelope or ponder her future, and my heart would leap. THAT was the WORST!

image: en.wikipedia.org

I finally remembered health class in high school. I remember sitting on the floor of the wrestling gym and somebody, a special guest, coming to show us some relaxation techniques. Yup. That's the kind of high school I went to. I remember being told to take deep breaths and picture myself descending (or was that ascending) a staircase. As I breathed, I was to relax parts of my body starting at my feet and working my way up. Wow! Am I grateful for that little health class! It saved me last night, and I finally got some sleep.

So, all of this waiting has taken my mind back to waiting for my own call, and although I wasn't a Hess at the time, I'm still going to use the title above because, let's face it, Hammtory just doesn't work all that well.


My mom was just cute. Every morning she would drink hot chocolate and eat toast with peanut butter and boysenberry jam. The one thing I didn't know until the day I finished the mission paper process and had my papers mailed off to Salt Lake, was that while she ate breakfast, she read the comics. Cute, huh?

That morning, she shared this:

That's right. The day I turned in my papers, Calvin turned in his proofs of purchase for a beanie.

From that day on, Calvin and I waited together.

And waited....

 And waited....

One morning, weeks later, my mom came to me excitedly. She was carrying the Oregonian with her. "Look! Calvin got his beanie today! Wouldn't it be funny if you got your call today?!"

By this point, my response was, "Yah Mom, really funny." I was SICK of waiting and felt like it would NEVER come.

my brother and me - pre-missions

My younger brother had put in his papers very close to the same time I had, and his call came within two weeks. Here it was three, and mine still hadn't come. Ugh! I was dying!

But, sure enough, that was the day.

I don't remember there being a big hoopla. We didn't have a party. We didn't have relatives to invite. Mine was the fifth and final call to be received in that house, and mine was the least expected. My parents had saved for the four boys to serve. They hadn't expected that phone call from me my freshman year at BYU. I'm sure I totally caught them off-guard, but like #1, I finished the semester my sophomore year and returned home to earn a portion of the money needed and to wait until I turned 21.

Other calls that had arrived at my childhood home were to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; Anaheim, California; Cali, Colombia; and Hartford, Connecticut. Because my dad served in the military at that age in his life (at the very tail end of WWII), he didn't get the opportunity, but all four of his boys did. I think this was something he was very proud of.

Because my younger brother had received his call to Hartford, Connecticut, as I recall, the monthly cost to send a missionary there was $380, I started stressing about the financial burden on my parents. I had earned money, but I hadn't earned all of it. My parents would up the rest. I found the list of mission costs and started praying, no, more like begging, for Lima, Peru and its $59 per month. Nightly, I petitioned the Lord.

image: todayinsci.com

When I opened the envelope the day Calvin got his beanie, I already knew what line the actual location of my mission would fall on (having so recently seen my brother's call), so to be honest, my eyes slipped for just a second, and instead of seeing "Iowa," as I had expected, or Peru, as I had hoped, there was the word "Japan." NO WAY! This must have been somebody else's letter.

After we all whooped and hollered for awhile and perused the accompanying documents, I found the bottom line. A mission to Sendai, Japan, would cost $485 per month. UGH! How could this be?! Not only was it the most expensive mission in Japan, it was one of the most expensive in the world. NO!!!

I guess you could say that at that point, my prayers changed. I begged and pleaded that we'd have enough money to cover the expenses, and that I'd be able to make it to the end financially.

A week after I entered the MTC, I received a letter from my dad--typewritten on the computer with his slanted left-handed signature and the face he drew for me so may times during church. Someday I will scan this for posterity's sake. On every letter he wrote me, the face he drew became his official stamp. I loved it!

his shop now - image: city-data.com  

In this letter, he shared that the day I boarded the plane to head to the MTC, he went to work and was astounded at what he found....The cars were lined up and filled his parking lot. My dad was an auto mechanic and that particular day was the busiest and most lucrative he'd ever had.

He shared with me that he knew from that experience that I was being watched out for, that the Lord was going to take care of us, and I was doing the right thing.


My dad has since shared with me another financial miracle that occurred later on as I served. There was no doubt that we were being cared for. Just when we'd start to forget, He'd remind us.

I look forward to #1's experience today and for our family's experiences for the next number of months. What I foresee are a number of joys and a number of trials--each of those trials leading to an increase in all of our faith.

The first of those trials may have been last night's lack of sleep, and I'm sure I'm not done with nights like that. As my daughter's off serving in the world somewhere, I'm sure there will be many nights of worry and concern for her well-being, and then there are others to follow in her footsteps in this house. They will lead to some sleepless night too, I'm guessing.

image: harrypotterfanzone.com

Yes, my hope is that there will be many nights of waiting for beanies. I finally got so I called #1's letter "The sorting hat" because that's exactly what it feels like. Funny similarity--a beanie, a sorting hat.

At this point in the game, I only have one thing to say.....Thank goodness for the time spent in the wrestling gym. That knowledge might just get me through these missionary years in the Madhouse.

image: songworm.com

The Tragedies in Our Children's Lives

I went to a headache specialist the other day. This has been long overdue, and I finally, after decades, feel like I can plan and proceed with my life.

While there, he asked me many questions to get to the bottom of my headaches so he could make an accurate diagnosis. One of the things he asked was "Have you ever been physically or sexually abused?"

I looked him straight in the face and said, "No."

The look on his face was a bit telling. He seemed shocked. He sat there for a moment, and it seemed that he was waiting for me to change my answer, but of course, because I'd told him the truth, I didn't.

His response really caught my attention.

This morning, upon logging into Facebook, a friend had written "This is what came to mind as I turned away from my work to pray for those affected by the Sandy Hook massacre: "Jesus wept." (John 11:45) The shortest line in the Scripture, as well as one of the profound and tender. God is with us, in and through our tears. It may be about more than Sandy Hook for you. No matter, He is with you and all of us. Emmanuel: God with us!"

Sandy Hook is one of many symbols of the tragedies that touch our children's lives. Children's hearts and lives are broken every day. This is the real tragedy of our world

I had a very blessed childhood. I had my own trials and struggles and things that tore me down, but these things, physical and sexual abuse, were not part of my challenges, and for that, I'm grateful, but as the world becomes more wicked, there are things that the children around us endure that we cannot even fathom.

My friend's status brought my mind back to a discussion we'd had in ward council a few weeks ago. The bishop turned all of our minds to 3 Nephi 17.

In this chapter, Jesus has come to the Americas and is with 2500 of the people. He calls their little children to him. Prior to that discussion at ward council, I had, honestly, never looked deeply at the words in this chapter. As I did so, I was so surprised at what I saw and how much I felt it related to the current situation with our own children.

Jesus asked that the children be brought to him and "they brought their little children and set them down upon the ground round about him" (verse 12). He stood in their midst. What happens next should have been something I noticed because it's such a strange reaction from the Savior. He "groaned" and then said, "Father I am troubled because of the wickedness of the people...."

It wasn't the children's wickedness He's groaning and weeping about. It's the wickedness of the people who affect the children's lives. We are sent here to earth to use our agency--to make our own choices--ALL of us. Sometimes that agency takes away the agency of others.

image: ipcaftermath.org

When we discussed this chapter, the significance of the groaning and weeping on the Savior's part hit my heart. Christ arrived to this place at the most wicked time this people had ever known. They were choosing things that were destroying their society. I realized that he groaned over the children because they were simply pawns in this wickedness. The agency of others around them were destroying their innocent lives. It is so sad that it had come to this point.

In the words found in these chapters, we find the cure to our illness. Our hearts are broken over the major occurrences of the past couple weeks, but there are daily things that happen in children's lives that damage them. The fear is that as we, by using our agency poorly, damage their souls, they can never be reclaimed. If this is the case, these damaged souls will become the terror of our future society.

Some complain about "children [or teenagers] these days." We are creating our own monsters. It is our selfish choices--those things we choose to do that we think only affect us--that will have the biggest repercussions. Nothing that we do only affects us. To think they do is foolishness

I am grateful to my friend for sharing that very simple scripture: "Jesus wept." I needed my mind brought back to this lesson I was in the process of learning. Timing is so interesting.

Our only hope is in Jesus Christ. As we each turn toward Him and seek healing, we can be healed, but it really is up to us.

image: lds.org

It is reported that He prayed great and marvelous things. No one had ever seen or heard the likes of them before, and joy filled their souls. He finishes, speaks to the people, weeps, and takes the little children one by one and blesses them. After he finishes, he weeps again. Then angels descend from heaven, encircle and minister to the children.

These things are ours for the asking. I firmly believe this, but we must ask, and sometimes we must ask over and over again. Sometimes we even need to beg and plead for them and more than anything else, we must seek to change ourselves and conclude that the decisions we make affect everyone--even those things we do "in Vegas."

If we think He has deserted us in our time of need, we are wrong. Just like any parent, He allows us to make our choices and to make our mistakes. He groans and weeps for us as we choose wrongly, but He is still aware of us. He still tries to gather us back to Him. These tragedies, can bring us to the source of healing....and should.

We are not left alone.

It's Been Awhile Since I've Just Blithered to Blither

I just need to write to write tonight.

image: principlesforlife.org

I got my bedroom all straightened up and rearranged last night. It feels so good. I've been really grumpy lately, so I think I did it mostly just to see if it would straighten me out a bit. I think it helped quite a bit. I really have no reason to be grumpy, and I'm usually not one to be that way.

image:en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Writing

I'm thinking that I need to go back to writing everyday. Maybe it'll help me even out a bit. It's funny. When I have lessons that I'm learning or things that bug me, I have no problem writing them, and they seem important, but when I don't, like lately, I wonder why anybody would ever want to read it. It makes me hesitate to write anything. It seems that I've forgotten the whole reason to keep this blog isn't really for anybody but me. Sorry. If you're at all interested in reading, go for it, but for awhile things might be a bit boring. Nothing's bugging me right now.

image: manassascity.org

I'm working on emergency preparedness. That's hugely on my brain right now. At this point, I'm just working on clearing spaces and attempting to create a plan so that I cover all of the necessary bases. I'm still working on editing the document about this topic. Because of the guilt I've been feeling as I've been editing (am I doing enough?), I thought I'd keep a very simple blog about the steps I'm taking to prepare my family for the future. It's not much, but if you're at all interested in reading along and joining in, here's a link. It's really not a big deal, just kind of a daily log to keep me in check and accountable.

The two birthday boys

I can't believe October starts tomorrow. We'll have two birthdays in the next ten days. #2 will be 17!  Woah! That's so hard to believe. Two years until we send out our first missionary.Yay and yikes at the same time.

I've got some pretty serious birthday shopping to undertake in the next few days. I did a little bit this weekend. You won't believe what #2 wanted for his birthday. I'll have to share later.

image: jennyphillips.com

We're getting ready for our Primary presentation. We have such great kids in our ward. They did great today as we practiced for the first time. It was wonderful to see things come together. It's times like these when I come to understand why my counselors are my counselors. They are such beautiful, strong, talented women. I'm grateful to work with them.

image: groworganicmeals.com

So, I have to share a funny story....my son and one of my counselor's sons sing in a regional LDS choir. We discussed carpooling, and I told her I'd just drive. It gives me two hours of uninterrupted time to get some things done on Sunday evenings. She asked me if she could help with gas. I told her, jokingly, that I liked to be paid in chocolate. Last Sunday, her son got in the car and handed me a really AMAZING chocolate bar. Again, tonight, there was another one. These aren't like Snickers bars, these are like gourmet chocolate bars--the likes of which I've never tasted before. I tried to tell her today at church that I was just joking around with her, but she assured me that she's made it part of her routine when she goes grocery shopping on Fridays to find me some kind of yummy chocolate. Wow! Okay, so this may sound funny, but even just knowing that somebody thinks about me makes me happy inside. I told her I'd happily drive her son anywhere any time.

image: housefulofhandmade.blogspot.com

This kind of reminds me of when I was a kid....A woman in the ward brought something to our family. I can't remember why, but it was food in a 9"x13" pan. Somehow, the pan broke, so I remember my mom going out and finding the prettiest 9"x13" pan she could find to replace it. She also found the yummiest dessert recipe she could to put in the pan. She made it and gave it to the woman who originally gave us the food. The next week at church, that woman gave the pan back to my mom with something yummy in it. Prior to this, my mom hardly knew this woman, as her family was new to the ward, but this went on week after week trading delicious things back and forth. I remember being so excited about that pan coming back to our house every other week. My mom was close friends with this woman from that point on--even after they moved from our ward.

image: ksl.com

We got the missionaries written to today. It's fun that a few of them are #1's friends. It's very weird to write for #6. Today, he started his letter "'Sup dudette?" as he wrote to a sister missionary friend of ours. It's been such a fun experience for our family. I'm so glad for dearelder.com.

image: clearci.com

Sometimes it's just so good to blither. Nice to get some of the overload out of my head and heart. If you've taken the time to read this far, thanks! Hope you have a great week!