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Pickles and Books and Bedrest

I rested this afternoon while Ava played at the neighbor’s and Hyrum played upstairs. I rested, restlessly because there is so much I want to do but can’t, or shouldn’t, or something like that. Hyrum came down and climbed on my legs like a bridge to the other couch, stood on the piano bench waving a tent pole, gave me kisses, and asked for pickles. I considered letting him get them out of the jar on the table himself, but knowing I’d have to clean up shards of glass and pickle juice all over the floor, I jumped up to help him.

I opened the drapes and wondered pathetically, what makes me happy? What used to bring me happiness? I just feel like I’m sinking. It’s pathetic. Is it my hormones? The seemingly endless sub zero temperatures outside? Feeling guilty for doing anything other than laying on the couch? And then guilty for just laying on the couch? (Thank you bed rest).

Gosh I feel like the biggest whiner, but these feelings are legit. I’m struggling.

Hey, I find joy in my children (that crossed my mind.) So, I invited Hyrum up on the couch with me–with his bread spewing crumbs like confetti and his cute race car underwear. He seemed so enthralled with old McDonald, laughing at all the noises (why have we not done this more?) and then peed at the start of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

I ran with him to the bathroom probably faster than I should.

I called Jake at work because  I was too bored and down and all kinds of emotional to wait three more hours until he came home.  He answered, “Hey how’s it goin?”

“Oh I’m just calling to say hi or talk or I don’t know I’m just…” to which I trailed off without words because I couldn’t even get them out. He could tell what was up and was obviously in the middle of something and said, “Hey I’ll call you back in a bit k?”

Silence on my end because I couldn’t even get out an “ok.”

After a few deep breaths (and tears) I did, and got off the phone. Then Hyrum came tromping down the stairs one foot at a time holding a book above his head, “Read book Mom, read book.”

So we sat on the couch reading books and I really enjoyed that.

Ava came home and she’s now dishing up bowls of ice cream for them on the kitchen floor and I’m back to (bed) resting. #mamanotes

How cute are they?! I love how they play together (even if they make big messes doing it.) It really has been so helpful this pregnancy.

A Growing Heart

While I was penguin walking up the stairs this morning in my robe and overdue-for-a-shower hair, feeling the weight of this growing bump in my hips and the icky cold that’s been going around, Ava stayed right at my side, looking up at me.

Surely she was wondering why mom was looking so disheveled.

“How come you keep looking at me?” I asked in my raspy congested morning voice.

“Because I just love you, and you made my birthday feel so special.”

I stopped and looked down at this little five year old, who just a few years ago hardly noticed the significance of such a day. It sure meant a lot to hear that. Last night against the heaviness of our tired eyes and achy heads, Jake and I stayed up late putting together her new bike and decorating the house with streamers and balloons. I didn’t want to stay up, I wanted to go to sleep. But things like this just make birthdays feel so special, and I knew Ava would love it. It was only eight in the morning and she was already spilling over with a grateful heart.

I spent most of the day on the couch, too sick to do much of anything, and I felt so bad that I couldn’t be more involved in doing special things for her on her special day. But she didn’t see that. She saw all the ways I was trying and said thank you so many times for making it the “best birthday ever.” (I think her first ever birthday party over the weekend helped with that. :))

In five short years, her cheeks have thinned, her curls have softened, and her little heart has grown. Or maybe that was mine. She is a radiant light that has only gotten brighter in our family over the years, and she is teaching me how to be more patient, selfless, and grateful (among so many other things).

At the end of the day while I worked in the kitchen finishing up her birthday dinner (she requested chicken stir fry), she ran around me like a little worker bee, putting away dishes, setting the table, even sweeping the floor for me. When I asked her why she was doing all that she said, “Because you’ve just made my birthday so special and I want to help you.”

Ava you surely bless us.

Fair are the meadows

I woke up to some hefty tantrums from my two year old, was already feeling emotional for whatever reason (feeling trapped in winter, lingering sicknesses, pregnancy hormones, etc.) and by the time Jake was heading out the door to leave, I could hardly say goodbye through my tears as I put the kids’ socks and underwear in the drawer.

Later that morning I stood at my kitchen sink washing dishes from the night before, staring at the hazy mounds of white and bare branches out the window. Winter has been hard this year. It’s only January and yet I am feeling so trapped in this cold, insatiably dreaming of warm places and green trees. Even the desert sounds dreamy. Cliche as it all sounds, these feelings are so drowning sometimes.

Lately I’ve been trying to focus on getting things done, playing with the kids, and appreciating every ounce of sunshine that beams through our windows. I am trying to be positive, to keep my head up.

This morning I sang hymns while I did the dishes.

Fair is the sunshine,
Fairer the moonlight
And all the stars in heav’n above;
Jesus shines brighter,
Jesus shines purer
And brings to all the world his love.

As I sang the words to this children’s song, I realized they were exactly what I needed to hear.

Fair are the meadows,
Fairer the woodlands,
Robed in the flowers of blooming spring;
Jesus is fairer,
Jesus is purer.
He makes the sorrowing spirit sing.

Jesus is fairer. He is more than all those meadows and flowers and beaches that I long for. He can make my sorrowing spirit sing. I need to be reminded of that. While I wait for those beaming rays on my legs and toes, He can be my light and my warmth.

As I finished the song, I felt a calming peace around me, like I was being wrapped in a hug. It filled me from the inside out–every longing hushed. His Spirit was there, lifting me from my sadness, reminding me that He is there, He is always there. I felt the Savior’s love, and that was more filling than any sparkling seashore or desert sand that I have so lately craved.

I really needed that, and Heavenly Father knew. That’s why He sent His Son to be our Savior, because we really need Him, every hour we need Him, even when we don’t realize it at first.

Grateful for that reminder today. He made my sorrowing spirit sing.

Dreamy Room

When we first moved into our townhouse rental here in ND, I was hesitant to decorate. I knew it was a temporary place for us and I really didn’t want to spend the time unpacking, putting up, taking down, and repacking all the pictures and decor. Well, after a few months I got tired of the empty walls and lack of pretty spaces so I put things up. I still had a box or two of decorations for Ava’s room tucked away under seemingly everything in her closet, and figured that since she and Hyrum would be sharing the bedroom, a nice neutral would be just fine (meaning totally plain.) Eventually I did get out a purple bedspread to add some color, but it was definitely lacking in the pretty department.

Well the past few months Ava has been asking A LOT to put things up in her room. I feel bad for putting it off so long, I just really don’t like hanging things on walls and planning it all out (especially if it’s only temporary.) I think too much about it. Anyway, the other day I put off my to-do list, dug through those boxes deep in her closet, and pulled out all of her room decor. She was beyond excited. She awed as we put each simple thing up. When it was all up and the bedspread changed (and it really wasn’t a whole lot, but made it look so much better) she kept saying, “I just can’t get over my room! It’s just so beautiful!” and smiles every time she walks into it.

It was totally worth it. Even I wish I had such a light and pretty room!

Ava got this little picture of Jesus from her sunbeam teacher at church last year. She loves it. When she first got it, she took it everywhere with her, and even set it up on our table at a restaurant 🙂
Everything up so high so it doesn’t get taken down by little hands…and it could use a headboard…but it’s improvement!

Anyway, one of the decorations is this hanging shell wind chime which makes subtle calming clinks when the fan is on.

Hyrum and I have started a new routine of cuddling before his nap to help him fall asleep (nap time’s been a struggle lately…), and while I laid there next to him today with those little clinks in the background, I dozed off myself. Completely unintentionally, my mind went to an open pasture with a big tree and a little brook, and I laid there against that tree with the breeze and the trickling water, watching the kids play and feeling so perfectly content. It was so perfect. I noticed that Hyrum was also seemingly so content in his sleep (and I could get up and get things done,) but I stayed there in my dreaming for a little while just soaking it in.

When I got up I thought about that sweet dream I had in those few short minutes and how easily that little chime and that fanned breeze took me to my happy place. I do hope that someday we can live in a place as lovely as that, or make it as lovely as that. It’s my great dream to live in an open space with big trees and water and places to rest and play with my little ones in the afternoons. I’d even be ok with all the bugs as long as there were butterflies and singing birds. It’ll be interesting to see where we end up. I may just be dreaming for a quite a while!

…And I think I may start sleeping in the kids’ room more often… 🙂 #mamanotes

A Prayer for Under the Bed

At bedtime we ate carrots and sat on my bed reading books; the kids fought over the flaps, listened to the stories, and eventually settled down into their own beds. I turned off the lights and propped myself on a pillow next to Ava. She was curled up on the pillow next to me, hardly budging when I asked her to scoot over a bit. “But I’m scared,” she said. I switched her spots so she was closer to the stream of light seeping out from the doorway. I started to tickle her back as I had done the past few nights, but she didn’t seem to settle. The babies kicked inside. I took Ava’s hand and placed it on my stomach, “Want to feel them move?” Her hand was tight and her body still curled.

“It’s ok Ava,” I said as I sat up and wrapped my arm around her. “I’m here with you.”

She told me that she was afraid of goblins under the bed.

We talked about how goblins aren’t real–that they’re just made up for stories. She seemed a little relieved but still wanted to look under the bed. I started to get up to look for a flashlight when she said, “Can we just say a prayer?”

I sat back against the pillow and wrapped my arms around her again as she sat up with her arms folded. She repeated each phrase I said as I prayed, giving thanks for our blessings and the day and the things we could do, and asking for comfort and reminders that we are being watched over.

“And please bless the twins that they will be healthy and strong, and help me to not be scared…” she added at the end. Her body seemed to relax.

After a few moments of quiet I asked her, “How do you feel?”

I waited for her to respond. She was quiet.

“Do you feel calm and peaceful?”

She nodded, but didn’t stir.

I told her that I felt it too, that we really were talking to the heavens, to our Heavenly Father, and that He was listening. I whispered to her that that peace comes from Him, from His Spirit that He gives to us because He can’t be right here with us.

I could feel her breathing slow and deepen. She went right to sleep in those next few minutes, sitting up in my arms, her own arms still folded. She was comforted by a simple prayer and the feeling of being loved and watched over by the God of us all. I felt a heavenly peace there with us in that room, answering the prayer of my four year old.

I know that He really is there and listening. He will always give us His peace when we come to Him.