Receiving Revelation for My Children Part 1

Because we are their Parents~
Because we are partners with our Heavenly Father~
Because families are eternal~

We are entitled to receive revelation
for our children.

This is true...
I've seen this in my own life
and my yahoos can attest to it too.
I believe it began from the moment
I knew I was pregnant...
I tuned into my body
my baby...
and once that child was born,
the bonding continued
senses are sharpened
and
my bond with my Father in Heaven
also grew in strength...
it had to,
I depended on Him so much
to guide me along as I learned how to
care for and guide the new little spirit in my life.

Somewhere along the way,
my ears became so atuned to His voice,
that there have been moments
when knowledge flowed in
and flooded my mind.
Other times,
little bits of things would be revealed--
just enough to let me know
I needed to pay attention to a particular child,
either to protect them,
or to guide them.

Here's some examples:

When my oldest was almost 7 years old,
he became tempted with lying
to save himself the consequences of his choices.
I knew he was lying
because he wasn't good at it, right?
But I wanted him to CHOOSE to be honest;
so I'd say,
"David Scott, I'm worried about whoever did this[whatever it was],
and I know that Heavenly Father knows who did this,
so when I talk to Heavenly Father tonight,
I'm going to ask Him and He'll tell me."
A tearful confession usually followed.
But then, right before he turned 8
a situation arose where I wasn't sure
who the culprit was--
him or his sister.
Altho I was pretty sure it was him,
I wasn't positive.
So, I repeated my plea for honesty and the words
that usually produced a confession...
"There was more than one person in the room
when this happened,
the person that did this,
and Heavenly Father.
I'm going to go ask Him right now,
who did this."
Rather than the confession,
David Scott said with full confidence,
"Okay, come back and tell me what He says."

I had to do as I said I would.
I went and asked and needed to know the answer--
to prove to my son that my relationship was real
and to make sure the discipline was meted out fairly.

On my knees, I sought the answer.
It came.
And David Scott, then, offered his confession.

*******

Another time,
my special-needs son, Dean,
was a very sick baby with a bad cold.
I'd been up with him all night long
and come daylight,
I was standing in the hallway of our two bedroom apartment
wondering where the humidifier was...
I knew that would help his congestion.
But I was so tired
and emotional, ( do you get emotional when you're over-tired? or is it just me?)
I couldn't find the humidifier.

We only had three closets in the whole place,
and I knew it had to be there,
but I just couldn't see it.
I looked thru each closet over and over
and just didn't see it.
Finally, in true desperation,
with Dean in my arms,
I was standing in the hallway

and I said a prayer,
"Heavenly Father, I need Your help.

I know You know where the humidifier is,
Please lead me to it. Show it to me."
I opened the closet door
right in front of me,
and there it was.
I stood and cried with gratitude
that my prayer was answered so immediately.

*******

One time, I was in California visiting my bff, Denise
and her family
with just the baby, Daisie.
It was my last day there,
and we all went to Universal Studios.
As we're parking the car,
a horrible feeling came over me,
I was wracked with a feeling of dread
and I didn't know why.
I didn't have a cell phone (this was 1996),
and was desperate to get to a phone and call home.
I passed off the baby to my friend,
and ran to the gates of the Park,
in search of a phone.
By the time I found one,
I knew which child was in danger.
I dialed the house,
my husband answered the phone--
"Where's Diana?" I asked, frantically.
"She is at the park with the older kids. Why?" he asked.
"Go to her. Go to her right now!!!!" I yelled in the phone.
"Ok." he said and hung up.
I didn't know what was happening with her, but this voice of warning
was so strong, I knew it was Divine.
My friend and her family caught up with me and waited for a few minutes
until I called back to the house.
When I did,
my husband related this:
"He'd jumped into the car, and drove down to the park that was just around the corner
from our house. He found Diana, who was crying from falling off a swing.  She wasn't really hurt though.
So then he asked himself, why would I have had such a strong impression over a tumble off a swing? So he looked around the park.  Then, he noticed a car with a strange-looking man inside, watching the playground.
Our children, the 4 of them, (ranging in ages 13 to 4) were the only kids at the park.  And there were no other adults.  My husband said he was impressed to bring all the kids home. This was at the time when child abductions were happening alot in Phoenix, and I rarely even let the kids play in the front yard.
As he related this, my heart sank and rejoiced in the same instant! What if I'd ignored that impression?

******

I want to continue to blog these experiences.
After General Conference's theme of Families, I feel that there is a great need for us to turn our
attention inward to our families. 
For me, I have learned that Satan is the Great Distractor from Righteousness.
If he can keep my ears and eyes focused on worldly things,
than on my family,
he is pleased.
I want to acknowledge that Heavenly Father
does care about me and my family.
And we need Him in our daily lives for guidance and purpose.

As parents, we are entitled to receive revelation
 for our children while they are under our care.
 After they have grown, that stewardship is altered.
 I do not receive revelation for my married kids.
 If I've done my job right, then my grown children should
be able to receive their own revelation. 


I can guide them with my best guesses and love,
but in fact, my stewardship changes
once they are adults.
I didn't realize this until recently. 
It has been such a gradual process,
as each of them have aged,
and begun making their own choices,
I didn't feel the shift at all.
And it makes so much so sense--
they shouldn't be relying on their parents anymore.
This is their life,
and their free agency is in full-bloom.
They too, must learn for themselves
how to live happily.

*******

What about you?

Have you also had experiences with revelation regarding your family?

Overheard At the Dinner Table...

Sunday.
The table was set.
Food was served--
a roast with mushroom sauce over brown rice.

Boofus came to the table
took one look at his plate
and says,
"Hey, this isn't what I ordered."

My Father's Daughter

This post is for me.

I spoke to my father yesterday morning.
I haven't heard from him in two years.
I didn't have his number until the day before
and got it from one of my brothers,
who wasn't exactly sure it was the right number.

But I called anyway--
got an electronic voicemail
and left my message,
"Hey, Dad? This is your daughter, Dawn.
Not sure if this is your number.  I'm just calling to
check on you. Call me back."

Yesterday morning the phone rang--
caller-i.d. had my father's name on it.
Anxious,
I picked up the phone,
"Hey Daddy!"
"Dawn? Is that you?"-- a very frail voice on the other end.
"Yessir!" the words trembled on my lips.
"How are you?" I asked.
I was anticipating the phrase he has used my entire life,
"If I was any better, I couldn't stand it."--
but it wasn't there.
"Good. Did you know it was my birthday the other day?
I'm 69 years old."
His birthday is in June. He'll be 70.
"Where do you live now?"
"We're in Colorado again." I said.
"Oh, good for you. It's a nice place."

"Say, Daddy, I was talking to Keir and he says you've lost alot of weight.
Are you eating?" I asked.
"Yeah, I eat."
"Well, what have you eaten this morning? Today?"
"Hmm I dunno."
"You don't know? Can you think real hard and try to remember what you've eaten today?"
"I dunno. I eat though."
"O ok, that's good, Daddy.  Did you take your medications this morning?"
"No. I don't take medicine."
"You don't take your high blood pressure medicine?"
"Nope."
"What about your Doctor? Did he say you could stop taking it?"
"I don't see no Doctor."
"You don't?  Not ever?"
"Nope."

My father has been on medications for at least 10 years.
I wonder why his Doctor hasn't followed up, hunted him down, or made someone aware
that my elderly father needs his meds.

"So, Daddy, when was the last time you saw the boys? (meaning my brothers)
"Oh 'bout two days ago. Yeah, I just saw them."
"Well, I'm planning on coming out there to see you soon. Would that be okay?
Is there a good time you'd like me to come?"
"As soon as possible." he answers. "As soon as possible."
"Okay Daddy, I will see you soon."
"Bye, Girl." and he hangs up the phone.

I immediately call my younger brother,
who informs me that he hasn't seen Dad in awhile...
alot longer than 2 days...closer to a couple of months.
We talk about what we want to do with Dad, who to call, etc.
He says he'll help me by doing whatever he can on that end,
since he lives in Georgia
and my father lives in SC.
Then we hang up.

I sit at my desk for a moment in silence.
I didn't know how bad it'd become.
I didn't know.
and then,
Reality sinks in.
That is my future.
My Dad's mind is my future.
Dementia.
I already have sticky notes and message boards
around the house,
I scribble cryptic notes on my hand
to remember times and places
on my bad days...
which come and go without warning,
but I know when I am having one.
But still, I am grateful that
I'm not lost in my world yet.
Even knowing that when I do
get pretty bad off,
I will not be alone.

My husband lays out my meds everyday now,
so I don't forget to take them.
Sometimes, I see them on the counter
and still forget to take them,
until one of the yahoos reminds me again.
My needs will always be met,
because I have a family who loves me.

My parents divorced nearly twenty years ago...
my father was with a woman for ten years
who wanted him all for herself
and kept us kids away
and he let her.
Then when they broke up,
it had been ten years since he'd been around,
and by then,
there wasn't much to say.
Our relationships were estranged
and we were all indifferent.

But yesterday,
hearing my nearly-invisible
father sound like a child,
vulnerable
needy,
the indifference vaporated
instantly.

That's my Daddy.
And he needs me.
The way I am going to need
own family in years to come.
Talk about karma.
wow.

This morning, as I lay in bed with my Mr Wonderful,
I told him about the conversation with my Dad,
and how I realize my future
and all the emotions that go with this realization.
Typical, Mr W-style,
he smiles and says,
"We're gonna paint your face everyday.
You'll look great!"
I laugh and ask, "Will you bedazzle me too? And a red hat with a purple feather boa?
I don't want to be invisible!"
"Oh Sweetheart," he says, "You'll be fine. We'll always take care of you."

So excuse me now,
I need to search for plane tickets to Georgia and
start shopping for a red hat and purple feather boa.
And a bedazzler.

Glamour Shots Gone WILD

Hey! Looking for an opportunity to kick off the Weekend just right??

Look no further than Glamour Shots Gone WILD!
Go find that old picture
and you know the one--
and link it up with the rest of us
Glamour-puss wanna-be's!

See, this is why you come to my lil blog...
start the weekend right
with a good laugh at yourself
or just laugh at my big fat hair!



That, right there...
is one stylin' Momza.
Yowza.
I used to blow-dry my hair
upside down
and spray it until it could
stand on its own.
It was SO BIG
I had to buy two tickets to the movies.
I had to use two pillows at night.
I lost my car keys in it once.
And a small child.
It had its own zip code.
H.A.W.T.

And Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Program aka "Momza's Home"

Well, after working and working on staging someone else's house,
for the past several days,
I had to come home to what used to look alot like my own house.

I recognized the house from the street,
pulled up into the driveway
parked on the Left side like I always do
and walked up to the front door
that I am sure is mine.

But that's where things got fuzzy.
My front room is hidden...
I cannot see my sage green couch
or my floral wingback
or the piano bench
that is usually in plain sight.

No,
what I see are piles of things
clothing
book bags
papers
shoes
and other non-front-room items
strewn about
as though there is no Mother
living in this house.

I glance at the dining table
my sacred dining table--
I recognize that because it's always covered
in books
toys
a cup
a bowl
a leftover cheetos bag.
This is my house!

My eyes follow the kitchen counter
to the pantry door
wide-open like always.
I hate that.
They know how to open it
why can't they close it???
Why??
Someone made toast,
it looks like--
but didn't put the bread away
or the honey...
which is sticky and dripped on the toaster handle.
An amateur toaster-er was here.

A half-empty yogurt container,
spoon still in it
sits alone on the island--
waiting to be... what?--
eaten?
adopted?
tossed-out?
put away for another day?

I have to leave the kitchen--
"just walk away",
my survivor voice pipes in--
"just walk away."

But before I do,
I take out the spoon from the yogurt
toss it in the sink
trash the yogurt
and like a magnetic force,
my hands scan over the countertops for
random wrappers and bits of trash
and my foot taps the garbage can lever
while the collected bits are tossed into it.

I walk around the kitchen
gathering empty cups
the honey-spoon
and cheetos bowl
into the sink.
I'll have a helper come in
and wash them later.

My attention is drawn to the familyroom--
iCarly is on....
playing to an audience of
Zero.
Noone's even watching.
Is there a word for what I'm feeling??
What a waste--
energy
noise--
I dunno,
but I have to pilfer thru three blankets
on the sofa and loveseat
to find the remote
so I can turn it off.
Which triggers other thoughts--
why can't they watch TV without a blanket?
and
why can't they put away blankets once they're thru with them??
The blanket cabinet is literally 2 feet away from the TV!


Where are the motherless-culprits
who've pillaged my home
eaten my food
left their messes for unknown servants
to clean up afterwards??

I use my "mother voice"--
"Whose Home?" I yell.
Then I hear a small cheerful voice floating downstairs from the loft--
"MOMZA! You're Home!"
I glance up to see where it's coming from
and feel two arms reach around my middle
and squeeze me in...

I'm home.
To Cheetos on the diningtable,
abandoned yogurt,
Disney TV,
a sticky toaster,
laundry in the Visiting Teaching room,
and
little arms that missed me.

There's a small price I pay
when I invest my energy into other
non-Mom-related passions.
Whether it's home staging,
or midwifery,
my absence in the home
is nearly always felt.
The anal-retentiveness of my youth
used to hold me hostage
to my Mom-role.
I didn't want to see what the house looked like
when I was absent from it.
But I grew up.
I had to.
I'm more than a Mother-
and my other interests and talents
make me a happier Momza.
So if the price I pay for that
is a sticky toaster
and half-eaten yogurt
or a few odds and ends strewn about,
it's worth the cost.

It's good to be back...
even if there's no cabana boy and lemonade waiting.

Home Staging Basics

This is Us. Cute, hunh?

Okay, so you asked, and I'll answer.

What I do as a Home Stager:

First, I do a Curb to Fence Inventory--starting from the street, I do a curb-appeal check. How does the house look from across the street? What could be done to make it show better?  Lawn, Front door, numbers on the house, stains on the driveway?  How does it all look?  I write it down. Take a picture.

Then, inside the house--take a tour of the house. Look for the BEST selling features that we can work with--take pictures. I make notes of each room--what can stay, what needs to go.
Since the GOAL is to Sell the house and MOVE--we have our clients pack up ALL non-essentials and thin-out every closet, cabinet, drawer, space.
I want a clean canvas, so-to-speak.  It's easier to add things back in once that is done.
Finally, I walk out back and do the same thing.  Most people need to trim bushes, plant flowers, add fresh mulch, etc.  And we plan on how to stage the patios/decks.

Most folks have more than enough "stuff" in their home to stage it.  I try to use as much of their own things as possible, to save on costs.  Which they always appreciate. But, all those teeny-tiny knick-knacks you got from Hawaii or Acapulco or your mission or college years ago, 99% of those, I don't need and won't use. I take nice, up-to-date items from one room to another; rearrange furniture, just get really creative with what we're trying to accomplish.  But I also like to keep it as simple as possible.  The family still has to live there, right? 

The items most people have to buy? 
*Lamps.  Every room should ideally have 5 sources of light, says my partner, Kelly. 
* Healthy Plants...we all have this "nurturing bug" to keep barely living plants around.  But when staging a house, that won't do.  Toss 'em out and get new ones! Full, lush, healthy living plants or nice Dust-free artificial ones.

* New bed linens for the Master suite.  Two rooms sell a house: The kitchen and the Master Suite.
That tie-quilt you've been using since your honeymoon or first child was born, is going to be put away for safe-keeping.  Go out and purchase new bedding.  Choose something romantic, soothing, luxurious.  You can find great deals at Ross, TJ Maxx, Marshalls, or even KingLinen.com. 
*Pillows---lots of fluffy new pillows on every bed.  Those pancake ones can be kept, hidden away for sleeping if you want, but to SHOW a house, we want pillows that look fresh and fluffy.
*Towels.  If you don't have nice towels in complimentary colors without holes or they're threadbare, invest in some new, big ones.

And that's really it for the basics.  Now if the home is older, your appliances may need to be updated, or light fixtures, carpet, paint, etc. also updated.  But that's another post.

We have a light inventory of art, candles, lamps, froo-froo accessories that we can bring in to tie stuff together, and we keep track of it and it's returned to us once the house sells.

How did I get into this?
You know that friend that always came to your house and rearranged your bedroom for fun?  That was me!
I've always enjoyed that...and so I determined to learn more.
Using techiniques I learned from a designer, online classes, and my own creativity & results from selling our own homes in less than 2 weeks; I know what works and developed my own take on staging.  I started my own biz in Idaho and when we moved back to Colorado, I knew Kelly had wonderful experience working as an interior designer's store manager and designer, so I asked her if she'd join me.  We play really well off of each other, and almost read one another's minds when it comes to staging.  I love having her knowledge and style alongside mine.  Kelly also works on the Parade of Homes here in Colorado Springs and decorates  Christmas trees every year in Salt Lake City's "Festival of Trees". She is awesome!

Money stuff:  We charge a flat-fee which includes the initial consult, Before and After Pics, and two hours each of hands-on staging. (that's 4 man-hours.) Time after that is an hourly fee.  We'll work until it's done and the customer is pleased.

Living in a Staged Home is easier!  Why? Because at least half of the house is packed up and ready to go!
The clutter is gone. 
I leave a check-list for the Sellers to go over before showings, so they know they can be ready to show their house in a moment's notice. 


Any other questions?

Goodbye Dixie Carter aka "Julia Sugarbaker"

Some of my favorite scenes from "Designing Women"--my all-time favorite sitcom. 




******

******

******


*******


*****

I'll miss you, Dixie.

Home Staging Pics Before and After

Entry Before

Entry After - We moved the table. Removed everything. Used a picture she already had,

added the lamp, candleholder, and plant. Simple but eye-catching.

Mantel Before...little souvenirs and random nic-naks...don't make a statement or show the architectural structures.

Mantel After

After-- Keep it simple, but bold. Use the space you have.

Bedroom Before--one lamp, nightstands filled. Worn bedding. Dark frame above headboard. 

Does this look restful or romantic like a master suite? 

Bedroom After--new linens, lamps,

iron filigree above bed, large floor plant to give balance,

we borrowed the bench from another room to make the bed feel bigger and "finished"...

After

Floral detail in bedroom After. Now it has a great feeling to it. Inviting, restful, calm.

Office Before...busy, busy, busy.

Office Before

Office After--a place where you can go and think and get some work done! 

Orderly, neat, open. 

Office After--the other side. Excuse the realtor's papers.

The home owner and the realtor were pleased with the results too. 

~~

Living in your home is different than Staging it.

But to Sell it,

it has show

at it's Best!

My partner, Kelly and I have a blast

working with our clients

and each other!

Remember:

                                                                   Before you put that

FOR SALE sign

in your yard,

Stage your house

First!

Weekend Wrap-Up

The weekend was busy
as always.

Friday afternoon,
I went with Nana to pick up her rental car.
Why does she have a rental car, you wonder?
Because her cute little red convertible,
her very first car,
was t-boned as she was coming out of our neighborhood.
She's a bit sore (seeing a Chiro for it)
and her little car is repairable.
But-Ouch!
The other driver was cited, she wants everyone to know.
*****
Kelly and I worked on the house we're staging...
we were wondering what to do with the young boys' room...
it didn't have much personality
once we took their stuff off the walls--
we came across a Boy Scout picture (thx Nan!)
and using scout accessories,
it all came together.
*****

Friday night,
Nan had the family over to her house
for Navajo tacos.
Ever had those?
Her recipe is easy-peasy:
Rhodes rolls...let them rise, then smash them with a tortilla press,
fry them until browned.
Top 'em off with all the tacos fixin's you like!
So yummy!
*******

Saturday morning:
We got up early and had to
poop-scoop the yard
because the Scouts are doing a fundraiser
by aerating yards.
It was brrrr-freakin cold out,
and my fingers turned red and frozen,
but we got it done.
The Scouts didn't come.
argh.
*****
Saturday morning,
was our breakfast with the missionaries.
Instead of a big meal,
we had Panera bread bagels, shmear
and topped 'em with red onion and tomatoes--YUM!
Served up with some scrambled eggs & juice.
I didn't take pictures of this Saturday breakfast.
I have yet to put up the pics from the last one!
*note to Self: do it!
******
Mr W took the youngest yahoos out to the YMCA
for a youth orientation
and swimming
while I
had to run over to the house we're staging
and take a peek at what the owners were doing--
they had a load of mulch delivered--
which is a necessity when your spring flowers
have yet to fully pop-up,
the yard is still mostly dormant,
and you need your yard to shine like a new penny!
Today is the last day of staging for that house
I think.
And it looks really great--
the realtor's sign goes in the yard tonight!
In this market,
you really need to stage your home
with attention to details--
with so many options
buyers can be picky.
So before that sign goes in your yard,
hire a Stager!
*******

Okay, anywho--
Daisie had her bday party at a park--
the sun came out and the kids had a good time
there playing baseball, frisbee, etc.,
then they came to the house for pizza and a movie,
"Blind side"...
a totally awesome movie!
I cried. O my goodness.
******

Sunday,
we went to our new Ward.
Before we left the house,
I was feeling those feelings of
"What if?"--
What if we're uncomfortable?
What if we don't fit?
What if, What if, What if if if???

Once inside the Chapel
there were many familiar faces
and friends.
We found our place where we always sit--
on the front row--
open and waiting for us.

Bishop S. came over and greeted us
as an old friend,
as did a few others.
As soon as the meeting started,
I had a peace come over me
that just felt so right.
We are home.
Our family is going to be fine, ya know?
I knew that,
well, I hoped that,
and now,
I know it.
That's one of the most peculiar things about
going to the LDS church.
We don't pick our Wards--
we can go to a particular building
be in a particular congregation for years,
and to accomodate growth,
that can all change,
new boundaries are set
new callings extended,
and we don't skip a beat.
We all show up,
ready to build a new ward family
and do our part.
Can you think of any other 500 + persons organization
that matches that?
Pretty amazing.

Okay, and I have to share my ridiculous-ness--
In the woman's meeting,
Relief Society,
they had everyone stand and introduce themselves
and share a tidbit.
Well, I was on the last row
and was busy writing notes about each woman
next to her name
so I could remember her--
(I'm terrible with names),
then it was my turn--
I stood and this is what I said,
"I'm Dawn. I'm also a convert. I...I have a hot husband. Six, no, seven kids.
My husband and I serve as the Stake Single Adult Reps--so if you're single, let me know! Hmmm..I"m a doula and a home stager.  Oh! and I'm glad to be here!"

Can you believe I said I have a hot husband?  Sheesh.  Someone shoulda put a cork in me.
*****
It's Monday and another busy day lay ahead.
Spring is buzzing by
and the yahoos will be on Summer Break before I know it!

I've been on the South Beach diet
and I've lost 10 lbs. already...
so easy, really.
Just putting that out there for any of you who are looking
for a sane diet,
this seems to be it
for me.

Okay, that's all I got today!

Have a super week!

Cristofori's Dream

Being Real, Living Authentically

Lately, I've been in some discussions
about
Being Real
and what that means
with my family
and my friends.

I like to keep things real.
Not pessimistic.
Not negative.
But real
for sure.

Being real
to me,
means acknowledging
the cloudy rainy days
in my life
as well as the
brilliant blue sky days.

I've been thru enough trials in my life
that I know
NOONE
has a perfect life.

And when I was younger
I didn't know this.
I thought I had an
invisible standard to live up to...
an unspoken rule
that if people really knew the truth--
that my kids,
as much as I love them with all of my heart
and devote every waking minute of my life
to their happiness,



were sometimes chaotic
enough to make me
wanna jump on a bus,
find out what tequila is,
and disappear into the sunset.,
that if I wasn't really June Cleaver,
I wouldn't make the cut.

I didn't want people to know
that my  first marriage
wasn't sunshine and roses.
That's really embarrassing,
to admit that
the person I chose to spend my life with,
didn't feel the same way.
And when I filed for divorce,
it caught alot of people
off guard.

But guess what, chicken butt?
I lived.
And I made better choices.
I knew
what I didn't want.
And I tell my kids all the time that
knowing what you don't want,
is just as important
as knowing what you do.

I believe that when we
give the impression
that we've got it all under effortless control,
or that our lives are just perfect,
we are a huge disservice to others.
Not that we have to wear our troubles
and/or hearts on our sleeves
but for crying-out-loud
be real.
There are people I know
whom I think are waiting for someone to
give them permission to just be real.
Be themselves.

We are here on this earth to learn.
And we only have
each other to learn from,
in this Laboratory of Life.
Don't ya love it when others share their "findings"--
what works and what doesn't?
If I find the cure-all for colic,
moody teenagers,
and
grumpy sweethearts--
it serves me to share it with you too.

Noone wants to spin their wheels
in quicksand
if there's a bridge or another way
to get around
their challenges.

We all have hopes
that pull at our heart strings
and we have all been
sorely disappointed along the
journey
at some point...
we have this much in common,
right?

I have been blessed
in that while I have known
some forms of heartache,
I am a stranger to some others...
I don't know how it feels to lose a child
or a close family member.
I don't know the intimacies of terminal diseases.
I was not born in poverty.
There are maladies I have not been
required to endure
and for that I am grateful.

The trials and adversity I have
known
taught me
compassion for trials
I have not.

We've so much to learn
from each other...
and the *best kindness* we can extend
is to be
real
in whatever it is
we share about ourselves.
To do otherwise
is such a waste of time
and effort
in the lab.
And labs are built to gleen results,
not fake,
pretend
wishy-washy
fairy-tale
wanna-be
coulda
shoulda
woulda
results.

But the real deal.
The facts.
And the fact is this:
Life is a trial.
We are here to be tried and tested
and within the law of free agency
do our best to live the commandments
and learn to keep our promises.
It rains on the just and the unjust.
But just like Sr. Beck says,
--though we may have disappointments in life,
we will not be disappointed in ourselves if we do our best.
(And I'm just gonna assume you're doing the best you can.)

AND
Life is beautiful
and magical
and wonderful
and I am so entirely grateful to be here.

I think it's called Living Authentically.
At least, that's what I'm calling it.



What about you?
What are your thoughts about this???


Authentic:

1. The quality of being genuine or not corrupted from the original.
   

   I hereby certify that this is an authentic copy.










2. Truthfulness of origins, attributions, commitments, sincerity, and intentions.
   

   The painting was not authentic after all; it was just a copy.

Synonyms

• (quality of being genuine): genuineness

Antonyms

• (quality of not being genuine): phoniness; forgery; fakeness; bogosity

Mothers and Daughters

My favorite talk, ok, one of my favorite talks from General Conference was by Elder Melvin J. Ballard.

As a mother of four daughters, it is completely relevant in my life.
I love his words and counsel.

Did ya hear about the New holiday for Moms?

I have to profess my own ignorance about this new holiday.

But there it was

on the Caboose's calendar....

What? You can't see it?  Hold on.....

See, What'd I tell you?

Motherhood

does draw us women into the realm

of the Noble and Great ones...

That kid cracks me up!

What's the 1-800 number for Hallmark?

My Small Fascinations

So I'm following someone else's TAG about my "addictions" --but since I don't like the word "addiction"--as it brings to mind a mom who spends her grocery money on things like cigarettes and wine coolers, I am using the word "Fascination"...as if to invoke a fairy-tale image of my not-quite-obsessive-but -still-questionable choices that hold my attention for longer than most people.





Are you still there?

Okay...SOAP. As in boxed soaps. I love them. I love the little decorated boxes and tissue paper that comes around them. I blame my Granma Guy for this one. She always had little soaps in her bathroom. They look so special. When she gave me some for my 10th birthday I felt like a Princess.

SOCKS. Decorated, but not obnoxious Socks. I have cat socks, and frog socks, Scottish terrier socks, and floral socks. It's like my own little party for my feet.

STATIONARY. Beautiful die-cut or funny roosters with clothes on, puppies or kittens, floral or funny. I love fun notecards and pretty stationary. I still buy Stamps in an age of email. And I always ask for pretty stamps. Right now I have lots of Sunflower postage stamps.

MOTHERS and Children collectibles. Ceramic, porcelain, glass, resin, whatever, I love art that reflects Motherhood....even mother and baby animals. I don't have a TON of this stuff, but the ones I do own, are sweet to me, like this one pictured.  Is that narcissistic? (I just amazed myself for spelling that word.)


And that's all the fascinations I'm sharing today. (My obvious fascination is blogging. duh.) Anyone else want to run with this idea and share theirs?

Touching Divinity thru Mothering

Spring is the season of Love.

Libraries,
from my hometown
to yours
are filled with authors'
earnest efforts to put on paper
that tender emotion
felt with our hearts.
They come so close,
but still,
the words are only
representative of the feelings.

We, being the offspring of the
God of Love,
pursue love
in all of it's stages--
new love
familial love
self-fulfilling love
healing love...
we crave it in all of its forms.

My favorite songs
are about love...
reminiscing about those feelings
just thinking about it in the past tense--
affects my present tense.

We're drawn to it in all of it's expressions--
whether in a book
or a movie
in a song
on a park bench
at a restaurant
or in a mall--
you know it
when you see it.,
but there's nothing like
feeling it yourself,
is there?

There's a sister in our ward,
a very low-profile sister
who recently adopted a child--
he is perfect.
I mean that.
Perfect.
I watch her with him
and she is in total
complete love with this baby.
I watch her body as she melts into his eyes...
soft around the edges
tenderly touching his hands,
tracing his ears with her delicate fingers
over
and
over.
There is noone else in the room
but the two of them
in her mind.
He has put her under a spell
the way all babies do to their mothers.
His beautiful little face
is the only outward evidence
right now
that he has down-syndrome.
His birth mother,
for whatever reason,
didn't think she could raise
him and give him all that he needs.
And who really knows what causes those
feelings or situations of inadequacy?
I've had friends who've placed their child up for adoption.
Lovely, sweet young women.
I've sat on the edge of their hospital beds
and cried with them...
what a hard thing.
And a beautiful expression of sacrifice.

Children pull us women into the
realm of Great and Noble beings.
Whether you raise all of your children
or
raising another mother's children
or
you use your best judgement
and let another woman raise them--
Love
is in the center of it all.
It has to be.
Motherhood compels us to dig deep into
the quiet corners of our heart
and
find our divinity.
In fact,
Motherhood
shows us
our
divinity.

In the center of Eternal Families
is the Savior.
The heart of eternal families
is the mother.
The strength of eternal families
is the father.

It is a wonderful perfect plan of happiness.

As I was observing that sweet sister
with her little angel boy,
she asked if I could hold him
while she excused herself from the class.
I was grateful she asked;
as I held him and immedately felt that
familiar feeling
I had when I held my own special-needs son
as a baby.
Complete Love radiated from this child.
That's the only word
that describes his little person.
I thanked her for sharing him with me.
And then,
we both teared up and hugged.

My new grandson--
my only grandson--
arrives,
and Granpa goes out to the car
and brings baby inside.
Everyone drops what they're doing
to come see "Baby"--
oh
he just smiles and coos
and we melt into his big blue eyes...
where he holds us hostage for hours.
Each of us wants a turn
to hold him
bond with him--
this lightening rod
of love.

This is why,
when our babies are no longer babies,
that we don't run out of the house screaming
or sneak off in the middle of the night
to the far-reaches of the world
to save our sanity
and our waistlines.
Because in running away from them
we'd leave our hearts behind.

And why,
when they turn into rotten teenagers
who roll their eyes
huff and puff like motorcars
and leave dirty dishes on the counter
and wet towels on the floor
we continue to love them.
Even if it's taking their bedroom door off its hinges--
to teach them a lesson or two.

Because in the beginning,
way back to that first night
when you became their Mother--
you knew you would never be the same
and it was good.

It's Spring time.
I just love that.

Easter Weekend

Whew.
What a week.
What a week-END.
I am one pooped Momza.

Friday is as near a blur as it could get I think.
I've been working on staging a house with Kelly,
so we worked on that for a bit Friday morning.
It's a military family that's moving.
It has been my experience that military families
have lots of
souvenirs,
but not much actual furniture.
So when you're staging a home to sell,
here's a free tip:
Pack up 99% of your souvenirs.
Ninety-nine percent.
And while we're at it,
pack up 90% of your books too.
Just pack it all up
to take with you.

Also on Friday,
Nana and I took flowers to Daisie's school for her bday
and picked her up early at the end of the day.
We let her choose which restaurant she wanted
to go to for dinner...
Qdoba
Red Robin
Chipotle
Applebees
Boriellos
...
she chose IHOP.
No kiddin'.
And she had a crepe.
Crepes...those things we make at least once a month
by the dozens--
yeah, she chose that.
what a funny kid.
Then she had her BFF, Chels, sleep over.
Around bedtime
the two of them sauntered up the stairs
and greeted me
all wide-eyed and smiley
then begged for the bedroom door to be put back on...
un-unh.
Nope.
I am tough.
I am steel.
I am Momza.

Saturday...
well, I lost my ever-lovin' mind
and invited SIX missionaries over for breakfast
and to watch the morning session of the
LDS Conference on tv with us.
We made texas french toast
a messssssssa bacon
and scrambled up a couple dozen eggs.
I'm gonna name drop in case some of you might know these sweet young men:
Elder K. Okerlund, CA.
Elder Panek, CA.
Elder DeBruyn, CA.
Elder Gemmill, Alberta, CAN.
Elder Foote, Alberta, CAN.
Elder Grilliot, Normal, ILL.

I took some fun pics of them goofing off,
but I'll have to post those later with the stories that goes with them.
Hi-LAR-EE-OUS.

After conference, they played
Apples to Apples with the yahoos,
and then left.
I think. ?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure they left.
We also had Mr. Idaho and Dani and the Ninja baby
down for dinner
dyeing eggs
and all that.
We normally do "easter bunny" on Friday night,
but since it was Conference,
and I was near-dead,
we changed it up.
We stayed up wayyyyyyyyyyyyy
past my bedtime
yackin' away...
I always do that when the kids come down--
stay up way late to catch up,
do you do that too?

Anywho,

Earlier in the week,
the Caboose and Boofus
announced that there is no such thing as
the Easter Bunny.
They made their case--
well, Boofus made his last year
and being the ever-attentive brother that he is,
let the Caboose in on the d-l too.
But they still wanted us to hide their baskets
and eggs
for old times' sake.
I let Daisie hide the treats
after Dani and I stuffed the eggs.
I have to say,
it's nice to be thru with that
Easter Bunny fella.
I might be a little bitter
because there was in fact,
none of the items I asked him for,
earlier in the week in my
personal letter to him.
Meh.
Turns out, I didn't need a tranquilizer dartgun afterall.
I'm good.

The yahoos got up, hunted down the goods
inhaled chocolate like it was a new food group
and the rest of the day was spent
watching Conference,
napping,
playing with the baby,
and our traditional Easter meal.

Now, I have to add the weird twist in our day--
on Friday,
I rented a RUG DOCTOR...
not thinking that we'd have a housefull of people
all weekend long.
SO guess what Mr. W did between sessions of Conference?
Yeah--
that screaming-mimi machine
HAD to be used
and returned TODAY before 5.

While I love the clean carpets,
I really messed up renting it
this weekend.
I shoulda waited.
The house was really noisy up until 2pm
when Mr. W
finished...
it was really not the way we celebrate
Easter Sunday...
cleaning carpets.
He didn't complain a peep,
but the kids did.
Note to Self:
Don't do that anymore. Seriously.
And, Daisie got her door back tonight.
I hope she learned her lesson.
She says she has.
We'll see how smart she is.

Okay and one thought that stuck out to me
from Conference
was from
Julie B. Beck,
when she said,
"Even when you try your BEST,
life will still present disappointments,
but you will not be disappointed in yourself."

I LOVE THAT!
It is so true.
There is nothing worse than being disappointed
in myself.
Nothing.
-like, renting a carpet cleaning maching on
Easter weekend.

Handling Teenage Mercenaries v. 5.0

Daisie is still breathing today.
She just might make it to her fifteenth birthday
tomorrow.
That'll make 5 fifteen-year-olds
that I have lived to tell about.
We haven't lost one yet.
yet.
There are no guarantees.

After Tuesday night's
lovely
enchanting
scene--
the one where she
rolled her eyes

stomped her feet

slammed her door

--she was in rare form, I tell you.

Things have calmed down considerably.

We stayed up until 11 o'clock that night--
Talking it out: 
Reflective listening is what professionals call it. 
Works, it does!

Reaffirming our positions: Keep your goal in mind.
Don't get off on tangents.
Stick to the point.
Stay calm, using positive language.
 Look, the kids pretty much know what our expectations are--
they're just looking for chinks in our armor,
like mercenaries.
lol
it's kinda true hunh?

Calling in reinforcements:

I use my oldest kids for stuff like this--it's great.
My oldest two were not perfect kids,
but they have served FT missions
and were married in the Temple.
And their perspective is a valuable resource I use.
So part of my deal with Daisie to get her "grounding" lifted
was that she had to speak to her oldest brother and sisters.

Her shoulders slump, head drops when I tell her this...
she knows she's about to be put in her place.
 
I know when she speaks to David Scott,
he is going to lift her mood from
sullen- pouty-whiny-faced to a more
civilized one where she can start to see things more clearly. 
He is so easy-going, easy to talk to,
that I know I can count on him for that. 
He'll make her laugh.
And he can say things like,
"You're being a dork. Stop it."  where I can't really say that, ya know?

Diana speaks bluntly.
She's alot like David Scott.
She is one who sticks to the facts
balances it with compassion
and wants a resolution yesterday. 
 She respects her older siblings very much
 and is used to going to them too for guidance,
and takes their advice to heart. 
So I know she isn't going to contradict whatever they say.

Dani...well everyone's afraid of her. lol 
It's funny, but kinda true. 
Mr W says she lives the Gospel "viciously".
 She won't look to the left or the right.
It's all black and white with her. 
Her motto could be "Do it Once. Do it Right." 

Does this sound like torturous punishment
when I call in the Reinforcements? 
Meh. Maybe. 
But teenagers are tough.
And you gotta use whatever resources you have...

like when the yahoos wake up cranky on
Sunday morning and whine about going to Church,
I say, "Call the Bishop. 
If he says you don't have to go,
 you can stay home.
Here's the phone."
Or
If the yahoos are whining about going to school
or dragging their feet about getting ready for school,
I say,
"Let's call your teacher
and tell them how you're feeling. 
If they say you can stay home/ be late,
then fine with me. 
Here's the phone."

SO, I use what I gots.

By the end of the night,
she had spoken to her brother
and Nana.
She has yet to speak to Dani...
lol
she's afraid to! lol
Cracks me up!
We did not put her door back on--
she has to earn that in 5 other ways
that we discussed:
*get up on time for seminary (it's at the end of our street, literally--she can walk there in 5 minutes or less, but she is habitually ten minutes late nearly every day!)

*Stay on top of grades.

*Do her part BETTER around the house. Instead of doing exactly and ONLY what she's been asked, she needs to step up and look for opportunities/needs and act on them.

*Attend All of her Church meetings (she's been picking and choosing Mutual activities--which her oldest sibs NEVER had the choice in that, they'll tell you.)

*Handle herself more maturely. No more huffing and puffing when she doesn't get her way.

Do I think she will miraculously accomplish all of this? 
Well not in one week.
But over the next couple of weeks, sure.
She used to be better about this stuff,
she just lost her mind when she became a teenager.

At the end of the night,
I asked her,
"is this how you want your teenage years to go? being grounded every ten minutes,
fussin and fightin with everyone? Cuz it's just not fun, is it?"
She smiled. "I hope not. This sucks. And I am sorry. I told you I wouldn't act like Diana and I am!"
Diana's sitting there, smiles and says, "And I said I wouldn't act like David and Dani and I did!"

We all laugh. Because it's true.
We head upstairs. Daisie's complaining about not having a door b/c she's afraid of the dark.
Mr W offered, "and how many children have we lost to monsters in the closets since we moved here?"

Once Mr W and get in our room,
he starts snickering
as he pulls a walkie-talkie outta his pocket
and speaks evilly into it:
"DARA....I'M WATCHING YOU....DARA....I'M GOING TO GET YOU!!!!"
(he'd left a walkie-talkie in her room without anyone noticing)

From the basement we hear
"WHAT THE HECK?!!!!"
Then laughter floats up the two flights of stairs,
followed by
"YOU GUYS SUCK!"

Yeah.  We do. 
I feel real bad about that.
really I do.

Spring Cleaning--Momza Style!

I love love love Spring!


The thought makes me giddy. Some of the things I love doing in the Spring include: going to plant nurseries and checking out the plants I wanna get for my yard when chance of the last frost has passed--sometime after Mother's Day here in Colorado. Thinking about sewing projects. And Spring Cleaning...nothing makes me feel as good as a spic and span house. The smell of clean floors, cabinets, walls, closets (yes, they have a smell too!), drawers, and windows makes me smile from the inside out!

With such a large family (9 when they were all home)--I got tired of the kids runnin' out the door, poutin' and whinin', or feigning bladder problems ("I gotta go to the bathroom!") whenever I announced Spring Cleaning Week. So I wracked my brain and put a twist on Spring Cleaning:

The kids have to bid on the jobs they want to do.

1.Make a list of what needs to be done.


2.Attach a value to each job...the harder the job, the more value it has.


3.Value = compensation.

Compensation. Compensation is where I got creative. Anything from a huge candy bar to gift cards at McDonalds, Target, Claires; or gift certificates to be exchanged for CD's, RIDES (big with pre-drivers), sleepovers and cash. This part lets them know up-front what they're working for.

4.Make sure there are enough goodies to attract each kid in the house, whatever the age is, and make it so that the Value is higher for the harder jobs you want older kids to do.

Process:

5. I buy all of the necessary cleaning products beforehand.


6. Make copies of the list and give one to each family member at a special meeting around the dinner table.


7. And we go down the list and let them bid on the job--now they really have to say why they are qualified to do the job, and propose when it will get done.


8. It's up to me to decide who gets the job and we have set deadlines when it has to be done, otherwise the job is forfeited and someone else may have the chance to get the compensation.


9. After all the jobs have been bid on and awarded, I then make a Master List, and Post it on the Fridge.


10. As each is completed, it is checked off by the bidder and then it is inspected by another child and they check it off. If the job needs more attention, I am called in to inspect it and help the bidder with directions to finish it right.

And that's it. Spring Cleaning has been made more fun because I no longer am in charge of saying who does what job--they get to choose--and yes, they all must have the same number of jobs--that gets them all involved on the same level. Cuz honestly, I have some kids who would do alot more than their share and some who would let them. (I know I am the only mom in the world who has this kind of child, so I freely admit my poor parenting skills.)

Diana likes doing the kitchen by herself, while Daisie is a good closet organizer; Joseph likes doing the vacuuming, while Ari loves mopping...tapping into their natural abilities helps us all enjoy cleaning our home without more fussing than is bearable. Oh! And that's another condition of the getting the bid--there cannot be any whining on their part or nagging on mine.

Doing it this way has been more fun for all of us--the bidding part is especially fun. So that's what works for Momza's House!

What kind of ways do you get your Spring Cleaning done?