Caution: Heavy, early morning thoughts…

The human experience seems a trite phrase for describing the culmination of experiences we endure and enjoy on our sojourn on earth.  I have reflected extensively this last little while on my childhood and the experiences I had that have formed the person I am today…for better or for worse.  My childhood emotions were typical of most others.  I laughed with my friends, fought with my friends, cried when I got hurt and was filled with excitement with the simplest of things.  Jealousy, hate, embarrassment, joy, kindness, humility, comfort…the list goes on and I have felt them all-unfortunately with some of them, more times than I would like to admit.

As I watch my own children begin to experience the world with a larger pallet of emotions, I find that I naturally try to protect them from the emotions that are not so fun-for the lack of a better word.  I’m starting to think I’m doing my children a disservice.  Children are strong and very resilient.  Those difficult emotions are often time when we learn the most.  For example, embarrassment tends to create humility(I am aware this is not always the case).  Really, I know I need to be more humble and it scares the begeebees out of me to pray for it.  With it can come so much hardship, hurt and trial(Again, I am aware this is not always the case).  Honestly, I’m a pansy.  I hate being humbled, but I know it’s good for me and so I usually pray for the desire and ability to humble myself.  I digress, this is not about me.  As a result, I naturally want to shield them from experiences necessary for humility or other, “hard to come by” traits.  The process is no walk in the park.  I don’t want them to have to struggle I just want them to be perfect.  And yes, I am laughing at the sound of it as I’m writing the words, but it’s the honest truth.  It sounds like Satan’s plan almost got me there for a moment.  It is tempting… just do what your told, be perfect so we can be an eternal family…dang it!

So this thought hurricane has me thinking that I need to back off my children’s experience just a bit.  I shouldn’t be shielding them from emotions(I’m referring to the simple, day to day instances here, not the deeper, scarier ones-that is a whole different can of worms that I get all sorts of momma bear about).  If my kids get teased, I can’t step in and I know that.  Even if I tried, I won’t always be there.  I think my role has become that as a coping coach.  I know, lame name!  You’ll be teased/hurt/embarrassed again and again through your whole life…get used to it. It’s my job to make sure they handle the ups and downs with grace and dignity; that they learn how to be better friends; that they remember Will and I love them and Heavenly Father is always there for comfort and guidance.  I’m am here to provide tools, not shelter my children from the world.  Our experience here is one of learning, enduring and joy.  I will always be there to wipe away tears and administer hugs, but I have to remind myself I’m not hear to rob my children of their human experience.  For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things.

I was contemplating extensively this Father’s Day.  How has my father helped shape my life?  I found myself overwhelmed and grateful for all of the shaping he did in fact do.  He was there helping me keep the tears at bay when scrapes and scratches seemed to follow me everywhere I went, but was so quick to sweep me up in the biggest hugs and tell me everything was going to be alright…and I knew if he told me, it would be.  Some days I still long for those days of being a little 5 or 6 year old running to meet my dad at the door with a spinning hug and knowing that I was safe and the world couldn’t touch me.  I would even threaten some of my friends when I was younger with his mad karate skills…not one of my finer moments.

I’m so grateful he wasn’t afraid to embarrass me(Now that I reconsider the situations, they weren’t embarrassing, they just seemed that way to my 16 year old psyche).  I think my skin grew a little thicker and I realized it doesn’t matter what other people think.  He knew I wasn’t perfect and never pretended that I was…no delusions of perfection here.  It always kept me working harder to be better.  And of course everyday he reminded me that as long as I worked hard, I could do or be anything I wanted to.

Sure he was gone a lot with work and there were a couple of weeks here and there I didn’t see him because he was off training in the field, but I have come to realize that even when my father is not physically with me…he still is.  I love you, Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

Okay, let’s try this again.  The info has slowly been trickling out and there hasn’t been much I have been able to do to contain it.  I think with all of the extra doctor appointments this time around people are savvy to it all.  Wait, why can’t you play soccer anymore?  Why aren’t you allowed to run for the next 3 weeks?  Are you okay…why are you going to the doctor?  Medication?!…what kind of medication? With ultrasound number 3 just around the corner…and since ultrasound #2 showed a heartbeat…

December 6th we have #3 bouncing our way…just thought you should know.

…and maybe did a little bit ‘o shopping too.

Who knew that mud slinging and fire jumping would be a good fit for me?!  Amber, Brandy and I did the Warrior Dash on the 10th up in Lake Elsinore.  We made a girls’ day of it.  Amber was sweet enough to bring breakfast and we hit up the outlet malls with purse in hand just before the race.  We found some great deals and cute things.

As for the race, we felt great afterward.  I chattered the poor girls to death and for that I am sorry.  At one point during the race, I was recalling an amazing black truffle cake from The Tree Room(If you are ever in Sundance, I HIGHLY recommend it!)  The gal running behind us commented that she would be fine with a cup of water right now.  Oops! Well, it was a short race – just over 3 miles.  Thirteen obstacles were scattered throughout(wall/car jumping, cargo nets, climbing through pipes, barbed wire, etc.).  We did have to go for a bit of a dip in the lake.   As you can see from the picture, the race included a mud bath.  Boy did we smell amazingly sweet at the end.

We stopped off and did lunch at Chili’s on the way home – talk about just what we needed.  That’s right – I finished my plate.  Ladies thanks for a wonderful day.

I was pondering the costs of things after Annie’s credit card incident.  I started looking past monetary costs.  I started digging through various aspects of my life trying to decide what I could and couldn’t afford.  For example, reading my scriptures in the morning costs me a little bit of time every morning.  I can afford that.  Besides, the opportunity cost is relatively low.  Spending time cooking with my kids or playing a game – absolutely affordable.

I have come to the conclusion that everything that I need in my life and everything that my Father in Heaven has asked me to do is affordable.  It is easily affordable at that.  The only times it all seems too expensive is when I muddle my life budget up with unnecessary items.  Watching TV has a pretty high opportunity cost and I find myself at the counter, purchasing daily.  I’m embarrassed enough about the amount of time I watch and no, I won’t tell you how much.  It’s just way too much.  UGH, what a vise.  For that reason, I’m dumping the cable for the next house to free me from my figurative, financial burden.  I plan on relying on Hulu to occasionally quench.  Oh the things I could have been doing instead(No, I can’t part with the TV.  I just don’t want to find myself every saying, “Sorry I can’t take you dinner tonight, ___ is on at 7″).

I digress, this brings my budget into two categories…Needs and Wants.  Oh, there’s a shocker!  That sounds like my normal budget.

I find that days where I take care of the Needs category first, there is a huge amount of time for wants.  Yet when the time is budgeted visa versa, it is almost impossible to get those Needs in.

Let me dust my pants and hop off my soap box.  Really, I’m just trying to be better about my time and it’s value.  I want great memories with my children.

Marjorie Pay says it best:

“I don’t want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp.
I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children.
I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone’s garden.
I want to be there with children’s sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”
This is how I want to spend my budget.  I’m not there yet, but I’m trying.