Why I Laugh Instead of Cry

The other night as I climbed into bed, I began listing a long list to Mike of why I was a horrible mother. Most of them revolved around my voice becoming just a little too loud that day. Interrupting me, Mike declared, "You're a good mom, you've just got a short fuse." So I re-committed myself to relaxing more, and I don't mean by spending hours on the couch. (Although I do have to say I stayed in bed this morning until 7:13am and it was DIVINE!)

* On Saturday I came home from somewhere and Megan had an old photo album of mine from high school/college. She had it marked with papers and said, "We need to discuss some of these outfits." Hilarious. I hadn't looked at the pictures in a couple of years and between the outfits and the memories I had some good laughs. Then my BFF who is in half the photos in the album came over that night, and oh boy did we laugh some more. Hours later when the photo album had still not returned to it's proper place, instead of getting mad that it hadn't been put away as asked, I flipped it open and found yet another photo to laugh at.

* I let my kids have a 'Just Because Day' 2-3 times per school year. They can stay home for no other reason than, 'just because.' It is rarely planned in advance, and typically they are already awake and dressed when they choose to take it. **disclaimer--my children are rarely sick and we rarely travel, so they typically don't miss many days of school during a school year** Yesterday, just an hour or so into Luke's 'Just Because Day', Luke decided to be funny and put an elastic band around the kitchen faucet sprayer. It drenched me unexpectedly and I had to change my shirt. But guess what? I laughed!!!! I didn't get mad, I didn't get upset, I laughed. I was very proud.

* My husband is honest and I love him for it. The other night I was complaining about having to eat a combination of foods together that I didn't think 'went together' at a place I was due to go. (I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous even to me now in hindsight!) Finally after listening to me complain, Mike said, "I am so glad I'm not you, you waste so much energy." Though I played mad at first, I laughed. His comment was a big wake-up call--sometimes I am pretty pathetic.

* We sing a song in our church that begins, "We have been born as Nephi of old, to goodly parents who love the Lord..." Joshua had been singing the song on and off for days. After probably the 428th time singing, he stopped mid-way through and said, "Why does it say ugly parents?" I laughed, and then I felt mildly guilty that I hadn't really been listening to his singing or else I may have noticed his mispronunciation days before.

* Last week, at the last minute I decided to have my neighbor take some family photos. I needed to submit a family photo for something and I didn't want to take Mike's suggestion of using our year old photo when no one is the same age. It was a nightmare. My neighbor/friend was awesome, her camera was awesome, but seriously--the subjects!?  Between Luke poking HIMSELF in the eye with a toy gun in between a background change, someone crying because a nail was poking their back, and someone else wanting a horse rope in every picture (wait, I think all those 'someones' are the same person...) and of course the issue of trying to get seven people to smile all at once, it is no wonder that at least once each of my kids told me in some variation or another, "You're so ornery, Mom!" Later that night after reviewing the photos I had a good laugh when Mike finally garnered the courage to ask me why exactly Joshua was wearing a 'girl shirt.'

* Megan brought home her first report card this week from junior high. She got a 4.0 (all straight A's). With it she brought the print-out of her grades thus far for the first week of the second term. She has 6 A's and a D+. I laughed. It helped stop her almost tears from falling. (We think it is just a missing or mis-marked assignment or something.)

* Saturday as we were all gathered in the kitchen working on different tasks, the ipod was blaring some of my good old music favorites. Of course, in typical Tiffany style I was singing along. (Very loudly.) Without trying to be funny, Luke said, "Mom, if you were ever to do a concert and people were there, they would leave as soon as you started singing the first line." What do you say about that? Of course I laughed. And so did Megan, because less than 24 hours earlier, Megan, the musical prodigy around here said to me while I was singing an old Disney classic song, "Mom, I don't mean to be rude, but I just don't understand how it is even possible to change keys as many times as you do in one short song." I had laughed pretty hard. Instead I just explained to my children, that though God didn't bless me with a good singing voice, He blessed me to love using the one I have. Further I explained my belief that one day God will bless me for loving to sing, and I will have one of the most beautiful voices in heaven. (No one really believed me. Imagining their mother singing with a beautiful voice is like telling them one day they will never have to make their beds ever again.)

* Sunday night Mike was laying with Drew in his bed while he cried and cried (Drew, not Mike). It had been a long, napless day and there was no explanation for the crying, besides the fact he is two years old. I walked into the room dragging a screaming and kicking four year old. Mike glanced over at me with a slight grin on his face. I couldn't help but laugh. It was a pretty pathetic parenting sight.

Sometimes around here that's all you can do--LAUGH instead of cry.

Passions and Faces

Guess we may never really understand each other's passions and dreams.

But I certainly hope while pursuing my own, I have more flattering facial expressions than my boys.

Okay, so I don't necessarily think jumping on a trampoline is Drew's passion, but I am beginning to wonder if him being half naked is. Especially during the first week of November!

Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

"Remember, remember the fifth of November with gunpowder, treason and plot.

I see no reason why gunpowder, treason should ever be forgot."

My English blood requires me to not only recognize and acknowledge November 5th as Guy Fawkes Day, but to celebrate it in good old English style. We've had all sorts of Guy Fawkes Day parties over the years, including our one last year where we had upwards of 40-50 people crammed in and out of the house. Typically, I have the bigger parties every few years when GFD falls on a Friday or Saturday, and on weekdays we have a much quieter celebration.

This year GFD was on a Saturday, but I just never really got into the mood of throwing a big bash. I think the politics of parties are beginning to wear on me a bit. You know the whole if you invite them, then you really ought to invite them. Or do I invite that group of friends/family, or that group of friends/family. Oh well, whether it was because of any of those reasons or all of those reasons, this year I plain and simply decided I wasn't doing a big sha-bang. (Which worked out very nicely considering it was 37 degrees on Saturday!!)

We did however, invite Melanie and her family over to celebrate with us. Simple, casual, no-stress, and no refereeing any childhood playing incidents. In good English style we had baked potatoes, (English) baked beans (most preferred chili) and sausages. Of course we had a small bonfire complete with the traditional burning of our own Guy Fawkes and some fireworks. Due to the freezing temperatures, we didn't last long outside. (Except for Melanie's husband, Bryan who stayed outside long enough to ensure all of his 'to be shredded pile' that made for some good stuffing for Guy Fawkes was properly burned and disposed of.)

I'm really not sure exactly what it is about my English heritage that causes me to abandon all lessons of respect and honor and allow my children to stand around watching a historical figure being burned in effigy. Really, back on the day in third or fourth grade when I had to dress up as Guy Fawkes himself for a brief role in a Guy Fawkes Day assembly, I could never have seen forward to the day I was celebrating around a fire with my American children!

Oh well, nonetheless here we are.

It's all about family traditions, right?

Grateful for Something

Years ago after visiting with a family whose mother had suddenly passed away, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for positive mental health. (Depression had ultimately taken it's toll on the lady who passed away.) It jump-started me to finally start something I had been thinking about for years, a Gratitude Journal. It sits by my bed, and at least 3-4 times a week I get something written in it.

The other day, Megan came home from school, fired up and enthused by what she had learned in one of her classes. She was thrilled to have learned that showing gratitude not only makes people happier, but can make them physically healthier too. Of course it was not new information to me, but I was happy that Megan was so eager to begin showing more gratitude in her life.

It was the perfect conversation to have had on November 1st, considering our November tradition we began in 2005. Each November we hang on our pantry doors a paper that says, "We're Thankful For..." and invite family members to write a couple of things every day of the month that they are thankful for.

Last night, Mike was rolling his eyes as I handed him a pen and nagged gently reminded him he hadn't written anything on it. As his eyes rolled back, I began to summarize one of my favorite quotes,

“We can lift ourselves, and others as well, when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude. If ingratitude be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues."
President Thomas S. Monson

I am fully aware and beyond grateful for all of the blessings I have in abundance, but sometimes reality kicks in just a little. The other night after a more challenging bedtime routine with the children, Mike and I climbed into bed exhausted and frustrated and gave each other that discouraging look of 'Why are our children so disobedient?'

Knowing I needed to recognize the good in my children, I picked up my gratitude journal to make an entry. I guess I was feeling pretty overwhelmed with the whole mothering thing, because as hard as I tried, only one grateful thought came to my mind. And so I wrote it down:

"I'm grateful that my children will one day be all grown up."

Some days are like that.

Date Night Idea

In September, I was able to be a part of the first Power of Moms Couples Retreat. It was a wonderful day spent learning together with both moms and dads. Many of the men came to the Retreat somewhat dragging their heels, yet the men were the ones who did most of the talking during each of the small group discussions I was a part of.

It was fairly difficult logistically for a lot of those desiring to attend to be there. Both the cost and the matter of finding babysitters for a full Saturday were not easy for many. That is why we have decided to do a smaller Power of Moms Couple Workshop Date Night. Friday, November 11th, 7:00pm-9:30pm. More information can be found here.

I would love for you to join us.

Ten Years Ago

I don't have to remind you that birthdays are a big deal around here. One of our funny traditions is to watch the clock for the 'exact time' the birthday person turns their new age. (Poor Joshua's is usually before anyone wakes up.) We usually remember, but the odd time we forget, like last month on Megan's birthday, we all lament and moan as though without the recognition of the time, the new age is null and void.

Last night Luke was packing up the birthday treats to share with his class today. He said that the teacher lets the birthday child pass them out 'whenever', and then with a sudden spurt of enthusiasm, he asked, "What time exactly was I born? I'm going to ask Mr Mills if I can pass them out at that time."

And then it happened. That which I never thought was possible. I couldn't remember the exact time. Sure I knew it was 10 something in the morning. And I also knew perfectly well that it was only 19 minutes after arriving at the hospital, but I couldn't remember whether it was 10:19am or 10:41am. So I left my turn of dishwasher emptying to hurry to the file drawer to consult Luke's birth certificate.

Only to discover I was wrong.
Luke was born at 10:43am.

Oh what memories of that day. I woke up and felt what I thought was a contraction just before 8am. I proceeded to shower, dress, and then settled into the chair in what was to be Luke's bedroom to read three year old Megan a book.

And I felt some discomfort.
And then I felt some pain.
But having had only one baby previously, and my water breaking before I ever had a contraction, this discomfort was all very new to me. (With Megan, I got an epidural before I ever felt a contraction. But there's a whole 'nother story and opinion about that.)

The discomfort continued and I decided to call Mike who was working 50 miles away to say, "I think I might have the baby today, maybe you should come home." He questioned, "'Maybe' come home or 'should' come home?" I don't remember what I answered, but his father's intuition must have been in high gear, because he immediately left for home.

I could drag this story out, but I'll spare everyone the details and instead say what Luke likes to occasionally say, "I was almost born in the car."

I think he secretly wishes he really was born in the car as it really would make the story sound so much better. But I'll settle for what happened. Nineteen minutes at the hospital, still in my regular clothes, and no one knowing my name until the baby was safely delivered, resting in my arms, and the nurse asked while poised to type on the keyboard in front of her, "Now what is your name?"

And that's what I was doing 10 years ago today.

Happy 10th Birthday Luke!!!

One of My Favorites

I know I really shouldn't get started doing a post about one friend, if I can't do one about all the others. But when my friend of six and a half years and I FINALLY get a photo of us together, I can't resist.

My dear friend Lesley.
Where do I begin?

We began our days as visiting teaching partners six and a half years ago, and for some reason we just clicked. I've had a lot of visiting teaching partners over the years, but none have I become as good of friends with as with Lesley. It doesn't matter that she is several years my senior, or that we are in completely different stages of life with our children and families. We get each other, and isn't that really what friendship is about?

A few of my favorite highlights of Lesley and me:

* I don't think we have ever been together and not laughed. We do it really well. So much so that we couldn't even get a decent picture of us without laughing our heads off first.
* Lesley had more faith than I did with my last two pregnancies. I wanted boys so badly and even though I never *found out* what Joshua and Drew were, she crocheted little boy blankets during each pregnancy. She proudly presented them at the hospital each time, assuring me she never doubted they were boys. (She never told me what sex she *knew* they were, she just assured me she was confident enough to be crocheting a particular color.)
* Lesley has much experience with life, and I love that in addition to always laughing together, it is very common one of us will cry too. Like I said, we get each other; tears or laughter.
* Lesley has an amazing daughter who was my children's FAVORITE babysitter until she got too old (old as in babysitting terms)
* Lesley and I can talk about people, places and things and know it is safe with each other. (Well besides our spouses named Mike-we know each other will likely tell our Mike)
* Over two years ago, Lesley and I started hosting a 'Favorites Party' twice a year. It's a highlight of our spring and fall. We're fun, how could people not want to be with us! ;)

If you don't know Lesley, you're missing out. If you do know Lesley, consider yourself lucky or blessed.

If you want to know more about my wonderful friend, you can check out this spotlight I nominated her for HERE at Power of Moms. Or you can read her often funny blog here, or some memoirs of her daughter who passed away here.

"I count myselt in nothing else so happy

As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends."

-William Shakespeare