Surrender your perfectionism

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We went to the sunflowers the other day to take some pictures. We are surrounded by stretching, rolling, breathtaking fields of sunflowers in this area of North Dakota and I wanted to document that somehow. I have this anxious stir inside me to fully capture my favorite parts of life, and our time together here in ND is one of them.

But I also have this thing about me, this drive inside me to always do my best. Call it perfectionism if you will, this drive has helped me achieve top grades, make nice things, and receive the beaming validation I crave deep down. But it has never really satisfied me on the happy side. I often have to give up other things that matter a lot to get it (like my time, my energy, and my goodness it’s stressful.) I’m working on challenging it and letting go, but it’s so engrained in me. It’s taking time.

So the sunflowers. We drove into North Dakota for the first time last year at the peak of the sunflowers. I was in awe, and I couldn’t wait to take pictures of them. Well, moving in took most of our time and energy and by the time I felt settled enough to go anywhere other than the grocery store, the sunflowers were drooping, brown, and dry. I determined that next year I would catch them when they were just right, and get these cute pictures and video of the kids playing in them to remember our time here in this state.

Well it’s sunflower season again. When we got back from Utah, I started thinking about taking those pictures. There were lots of fields to choose from, I almost couldn’t decide which to go to. I wanted to go to the best one. We planned to go a few different days, but things got in the way or I wasn’t up for it. So we decided on a day last week and stuck to it. That was the problem though. I had too much time to think about it and plan it out. Because if I was going to do it, I was going to give it my best effort–simply because I could. That drive really takes over sometimes.

So when the day came, I bathed the kids and laid out their clothes, and even made sure Ava didn’t put her hair up in a ponytail so her hair wouldn’t get kinked. It seems so silly to me now, but at the time I just thought, if I could make the effort, why not?

Then Jake had to stay at work longer than expected, so when he got home we rushed the kids in the car to make it there before the sun went down. Unfortunately perfectionism breeds indecisiveness. I couldn’t even decide which field to go to while we were on our way! We turned around a few times, and tensions mounted as the sun inched its way closer to the horizon. Ava fell asleep after five minutes.Finally we arrived and parked on the side of the road. The grass was a lot taller than it looked from the road, and Ava would NOT walk through it (we’ve warned her so much about ticks in tall grass in the past, and she was not going to risk it.) It didn’t help that Jake mentioned to watch out for snakes as I made my way in. Hyrum fed off her worries, and screamed too. So there I was tromping through the prairie grass with two crying kids clinging to my neck. Somehow this was not what I pictured. I did everything I thought I could to make these pictures the best they could be, but somehow all my worrying and stressing didn’t make it happen.

I brought Ava back to the car, took a few pictures with Hyrum (and did everything we could to distract him and make him happy out there,) and counted it unsuccessful.

We still managed some pretty pictures, but the moments weren’t all that pretty. What I mean is, my high expectations spurred the negativity, the stress, the tension. And frankly, it didn’t turn out to be a moment I really wanted to capture anyway. I’m glad I got some pictures of the beautiful landscape, but that was all. That happens a lot when I let this “thing” get in the way.

Jake goes with the flow. He rarely stresses, worries, or overthinks. So often he reminds me to let it go, let it be, let it happen, and when I do, I feel so at peace, like I’m really overcoming something. Because frankly, this perfectionistic mindset has been driving for a long time. It feels so good to let go, to let things be and enjoy them as they come. Grateful to him for that.

After the shoot I told Jake that I want to try again maybe during the day sometime–that I’ll just take the kids out to a field that doesn’t have such tall grass and get some fun pictures with them happy in it and all. This morning looked like a good day for that, and I thought about it.

But we didn’t. I gave it up. This time I surrendered my perfectionism, and I’m really glad I did. The kids and I went on a little nature walk out on the path behind our backyard instead. We stopped to watch the ants scurry, the butterflies flutter, and the grasshoppers jump into the grass. We listened to the crickets and ran from a bee. We called out to the horses in the pasture, and waited for them to come to us so we could pet their soft noses and feel of their goodness. We passed a pretty green meadow, a rolled up hay bale, and a field of sunflowers. We stopped to admire them, then went on our way.

It was freeing, light, and peaceful. It felt so good to let it go and just enjoy.

While on our walk Ava said to me, “Mom this is a fun walk. I really like this.” And I really did too.

I have this little piece of notebook paper that I keep in my scriptures. I wrote down a number of notes in it while listening to a talk a few years ago. I probably wrote down some of what the speaker said, but mostly thoughts and impressions that came to me, thoughts I believe were divine instruction just for me. I keep it in my scriptures and refer to it often because those words are often just what I need to overcome some of my greatest challenges, some of the things most holding me back from greater things. One of the notes says this,

“Surrender your perfectionism. It’s slowing you down and keeping you from your potential. It’s keeping you from doing things that will make you happy.”

How grateful I am for the Holy Ghost, for His gentle guidance to better things. I still have a ways to go to fully surrender, but I’m trying. Dropping things one at a time. And I’m learning that following these divine impressions really does bring me the most joy. I’m learning that the times I give up my will, I’m more open to His will, and that always makes me happier.

Ether 12:27 “And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weakthings become strong unto them.”

Do you take comfort in this scripture? I really do.

I also appreciated this little excerpt from a talk by Neal A. Maxwell, April 1988…

“We are here in mortality, and the only way to go is through; there isn’t any around! Yet our Deliverer assures us: ‘be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours’ (D&C 78:18)…Thus He leads us along, but He desires that during that process we take His yoke upon us in order to learn of Him by our personal experiences.”

I find great comfort in that reminder. Because of His sacrifice for us He can lead us along, and because of His perfect love and mercy, He does. Even in the little things.

When You Wonder How to Do It

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To my daughter when you wonder how to do it,

Someday you may be a mother. You may be finishing off your kids’ quesadillas with crumbs stuck to your feet, knots in your hair, and strawberry smudges on your shirt. And you may be wondering, how did she do it? How did my mom do this?

I’ll tell you how I’m doing it.

I am sitting in my kitchen finishing off my kids’ quesadillas with crumbs stuck to my feet, knots in my hair, and strawberry smudges on my shirt. I am playing hide and seek, peek-a-boo, and red-light green-light, over and over. I am waiting for nap-time, snacking before dinner time, and putting off bedtime. I am giving kisses, filling bellies, and cleaning up messes, multiple times a day. I am doubting, stressing, and snapping from time to time. And I am tired. Mothering is a lot of work.

But I am happy.

I am happy to cuddle dreamers, encourage thinkers, and sing lullabies before bed. I am happy to give rides in laundry baskets, inspire good choices, and teach you how to pray. I am happy to have all of these stretching, testing, beautiful experiences that refine me and teach me. Happy to share all of it with you.

I am having the greatest time just watching you little ones be little. You are doing amazing things! I never thought I’d be so enthralled with babbling words, chubby cheeks, and bikes without training wheels. But I am! And you are just as excited that I’m right there with you, smiling back, picking you up, and cheering you on.

I get to care for you, teach you, and love you. And oh how I love you.

I get to be your mom.

And I am grateful for that, because someday I may be a Grandma. I may be stirring up a batch of chocolate chip cookies in a beautifully clean kitchen, with a hand-sewn apron tied around my waist. I may be reminiscing about this beautiful time in my life, perhaps wishing I could go back, even just for a moment. Someday you may be too.

So keep eating those quesadillas, filling those bellies, and giving those kisses. What you are doing is the best thing you could be doing. At times we all wonder how they did it, or how we’re supposed to do it, but maybe that isn’t as important. Perhaps what’s most important is to simply to do our best and enjoy it while we can.

*A quick afterthought… I was looking up some family history online today on familysearch.org and found this little gem of encouragement from my own mother and great grandmother! It’s from a talk my mom gave at her grandmother’s funeral.

She said, “Many times when I have been frustrated with the job of raising eight very active children and I feel that I have done absolutely nothing significant any particular day, Grandma’s wise words have come into my mind–‘You have gotten those children one day older–and sometimes that’s quite an accomplishment!’ I can’t count the times that thought has sustained me and encouraged me to try again another day.”

How neat is that!? It seems these feelings are universal, we all feel them at times. I just think it’s funny that I found that online, of all places. 🙂 Familysearch.org is so neat!

Encouraged by Her

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In moments of calm or quiet, I am drawn to my comfy couch to read. I have a hard time reading novels. I love to read them, and I do read them from time to time, but I have difficulty lending my time to them. Lately I’ve been reading this book here and there, and every time I retreat to my comfy couch to read, I am excited to read this one.

It’s a book about Marjorie Pay Hinckley, the wife of the late prophet Gordon B. Hinckley. He was the prophet while I was growing up, and oh how I admired this sweet couple! It has been interesting and all the while inspiring to catch glimpses into the life and heart of Sister Hinckley. When I read it, I come away feeling uplifted, encouraged, inspired, and refreshed. She’s refreshing, I guarantee it. It helps me put everyday life in the right perspective. Sounds like a great book huh? Maybe you will read it too. 🙂

But if you don’t ever get to it, I want to share just a few quotes from the chapter on motherhood and the one before that. Some are pieces of advice, some are just encouraging. I feel like similar things would be said by my own mother or mother-in-law, but I don’t have many of their words in writing.

So often when I read these I think, “Yes! Thank you. I feel better now,” or “That’s a great idea, I think I’ll try to do that more.” Perhaps you will too.

“We have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove anything, to be what we are.” p.75

“Jewish women have a wonderful way of bidding each other goodbye. They say, “Have joy in your children.” And so I say to you, “Have joy in your mothering,” whether you are the mother, the aunt, the grandmother, the next-door neighbor. We all have the opportunity to be an influence for good.” p.52

“I think I felt something of your frustration and challenge to be the perfect mother. Relax. There is no such thing as the perfect mother who fits all the eulogies. We just do the best we can with the help of the Lord, and who knows, these children who are struggling to be free may someday rise up and call us blessed.” p.61

“The trick is to enjoy it. Don’t wish away your days of caring for young children. This is your great day. Sometimes we get so caught up in the physical work and trivia that we forget the big picture. We forget whose children they really are. When the house is filled with children, noise and teasing, and laughter, you get the feeling this is forever. Before you know it they will be gone. When our second son went away to school at the age of seventeen, I said, ‘But Clark, I am not through with you. I feel there is so much I will need to teach you.’ ‘Too late, Mother, too late.’ Our children grow so quickly out of our reach.” p. 61

“Praise your children more than you correct them. Praise them for even their smallest achievement.” (Quoting the prophet Ezra Taft Benson) p. 57

When in doubt, “save the relationship.” p.56

Kathleen Hinckley talking about learning from her mother in law: “You have to trust children. I tried hard never to say “no” if I could possibly say “yes.” I think that worked well because it gave my children the feeling that I trusted them and they were responsible to do the best they could.” p. 55

“Children rise higher when they are treated with respect.” p.53

“We have a great responsibility to our children. Find joy in them. Don’t over schedule them or yourself.” p.75

“The rewards of mothering are not immediate. There are times when you are less than appreciated. I took from the oven one day what I thought was a beautiful casserole, only to have my six-year-old son say, ‘Mom, how come you baked the garbage?’ Then there is the unexpected hug, when you least deserve it. And while you are enjoying these days of mothering, be sure that your demands on your children for perfection are not so heavy that they cannot be children. ” p.61

And this last one that I want to share, I really appreciated.

One of Marjorie’s daughters shared a story of when she was young and they had a program at school in the lunchroom. All the children sat in chairs waiting for their mothers to arrive. She watched the mothers walk in, and noticed that the mother that came in before her own “was wearing spiked heels and a darling dress and had all of this foofy hair.” She said she looked young and beautiful. Then she looked up to see her mother come through the same door. She remembered, “With that instant juxtaposition, I will never forget the flood of security and happiness I felt when I saw her–no foofy hair or spiked heels, not very young or very beautiful, dressed in her typically tidy housedress. There was a warm, comfortable feeling and the thought clear as neon: ‘Oh I’m so glad that my mother looks like a real mother! Whatever would a person do if her only mother wore darling dresses and had painted fingernails?'”

When I think of my own mother, I don’t think about the way she looks. I could consider her soft, youthful skin, or her kind, comforting eyes. She is lovely and beautiful, yes, but mostly I too feel a warmth, a reassurance even when I think about her. She is beautiful because she is my mother. That’s comforting to me because often I see pretty faces, pretty clothes, and pretty houses, and I wonder if I should be doing more to be like that. In my head I know it’s not necessary, but the draw to compare and leave yourself trailing behind is so easy.

The reality is, I am trying my best to be real, and kind and nurturing. And I love my kids with everything I’ve got. That’s all it takes to be beautiful to them, and that’s all I have to be.

Didn’t you just love these messages from Marjorie Hinckley? I feel encouraged by her and I don’t even know her personally! It’s worth reading the whole book. Some day I may feel seasoned enough to give mothering advice, but for now I am very much on the receiving end. And I’m ok with that.

When he does the dishes.

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I was at the sink washing dishes when Jake came home.

“It smells so good in here.”

“Your soup is in the microwave, I just reheated it for you.”

He moved aside the kids’ dinner plates and set his bowl on top of the crumbs.

“How was work?

“It was good.”

“Was it busy?”

“Yeah there’s a lot to do, but not as busy as I thought it was going to be.”

“That’s good.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing ok. I don’t know why, I’m just struggling today… I work so hard at one thing, and then feel bad for neglecting all the other things. I’ve been working on this one thing a lot today, and the kids have been needing me left and right. And I start feeling all tense because I can’t get this thing done and then I feel totally guilty because maybe I should have been giving them more attention…And these plates have been sitting at the bottom of the sink for a week and I still can’t get to them. Why can’t I just wash these plates?”

I went on.

He listened as he ate his soup. “You’re doing great. You’re doing so great.”

“Then why don’t I feel that way?”

He rinsed his bowl off in the sink, grabbed an apron from the drawer, and put his arm around me. “Go lie down on the couch for a bit. I got this.”

He started washing and I started picking up the toys and clothes and shoes in the family room, because we all know I can’t really rest until everything’s picked up and done.

When the room was clean I walked over to where the carpet meets the kitchen floor. “I’m sorry for kind of messing up our date night. I’ve just had a lot going on and a lot on my mind. I haven’t gotten ready or anything.”

He turned to face me as he rinsed another plate. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not messed up, just go upstairs and put on your nice jeans and braid your hair or something. You look great.”

I changed my clothes and started braiding my hair in the bathroom near the kitchen. My hair was knotted from being in and out of a bun for a few days, not ideal for a french braid. I got halfway down my head, my fingers weaved through my hair to hold the braid in place, and a giant snarl was balled up underneath. I walked over to Jake at the sink, one hand with a brush and the other still tangled in my hair. “Can you help me?”

He dried his hands and carefully separated, pulled, and brushed until the strands were free and I could finish my braid.

“Thank you.”

I finished braiding, and he finished washing.

He then showered and got dressed and met me on the family room floor where we raced each other laying cards down in a few games of speed (he won every time) and argued over whose hand slapped the pile first in Egyptian Rat’s Crew (I won). We raised our voices and threw out accusations and couldn’t keep from laughing every time those sevens came around and we had to slap the pile again. We pushed the boundary on card-slapping hand hovering, if there ever was one.

Then we cleaned up the cards and searched Netflix. He got the snacks and drinks, and we settled on a drama because last time he got to choose it. It was long. We cuddled under a blanket and tried our best to stay awake.

We ended the night with I love you, the kind that means “I’m grateful for you, I really care about you, and I’m really glad I get to go through life with you.”

When we first got married I wondered when our giddy in love, couldn’t stop thinking about each other, honeymoon-phase would end. Not because I wanted it to, just because I heard it always does. Married life is hard, they’d say. It’s great, but it gets real and it takes work. People congratulated us on our wedding, then sent us on our way hoping that we’d make it work.

And we have. We’ve made it work wonderfully well. I wouldn’t call it giddy in love, and we’re certainly not in la-la land anymore, but I can say with complete honesty that after seven years together I am happier than I’ve ever been and even more in-love with him than I was when we got married, by a long shot. We are complements and companions for each other. It’s great. When he’s down I help him up, and when I’m down, he sits and listens, then does the dishes. We’ve learned how to really help one another, and we’re still learning.

I don’t care if marriage takes work because life with him is sweeter.

Sometimes we sit down and plan our lives together. And we get excited about it! How great it is that we have a companion for everything? –for every road trip and movie night, but also for the hard stuff–the decisions, the parenting, and the self doubt. Life’s hard, and that’s what makes marriage such a blessing, we get to go through everything together–every smooth sail and sour patch. And when things do go sour, we turn to each other, not away, even when we don’t feel like it.

We’re in it for the long haul and couldn’t be happier about it.

Since we’ve been married, I’ve grown in ways I never thought I could, or even needed to. And oh how I’ve needed to! We’ve completely given our lives to each other–melded our lives together, yet I am actually more “me” than I’ve ever been. I understand myself better, my strengths and my weaknesses, and I’m happier too. I’m grateful that it does take work, because in the process of working at it I feel like we are both becoming better people. And maybe I’m still in la-la land on this, but it doesn’t seem much like work anymore.

I’m sure our marriage has its shortcomings, but it’s blessed my life enough to give me some understanding of what purpose it is meant to have, and what a blessing it is meant to be.

Remember how God said “Neither is man without the woman neither the woman without the man in the Lord?” and that we are created that we “might have joy?” These two things go together–perfectly. Marriage is meant to bring us joy because it gives us a committed companion, a loyal friend, and a constant support–especially in parenting. It gives us someone to talk to, to care for, to rely on. Someone who feels the same way too. Marriage gives us someone who knows us the best and loves us the most, someone who helps us see where we can improve, and inspires us to want to do so. And God has ordained marriage, which means that we can have heaven’s help in making it work–making it work wonderfully well.

It is clear to me that this union is more than just a good idea, an elusive goal, or a social construct. It is a divine union for an eternal good, and it is central to the creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. Surely it is not just meant to “work,” but to work wonderfully well.

So I am grateful for marriage and for family life, even when the kids are needy and he doesn’t do the dishes. I’m glad I get to spend forever with them. We are learning and growing in ways we never thought we could, and our joys have never been greater.

Bless you

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You know how we often say that motherhood is hard? It totally is.

But just plain womanhood is hard too. All these emotions get me feeling all over the place sometimes. I’ve got a good deal of these funny little hormones in my body that make me feel like I’m figuring things out one minute and totally second guessing myself the next. I over-think, over-angst, and overwhelm myself sometimes. And nights are so funny like that. If I’m feeling overly emotional at all at night, I better just go on to bed because if I let them settle and spin, I start to get all loopy and teary and everything becomes so much more this or that. And why am I like this??

That happened the other night. I was telling Jake my thoughts and my feelings about something and Jake couldn’t help but laugh. He listened and he hugged me, but he laughed too. I appreciated that. It reminded me that sometimes these little buggers have more control over me than I realize, and a good amount of shut eye will allow a nice reset. And it does.

But it also reminds me that I’m a woman, with all the mushy, lovey, wonderful feelings that comes with it. These feelings allow me to connect, to love, to appreciate, and to sympathize, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So here’s to womanhood, and to motherhood. For surely if navigating our own emotions proves difficult at times, caring for little ones with loads of them is surely a monumental task. And we do it because again, we wouldn’t have it any other way. All those mushy, lovey, wonderful feelings bring with them life’s most bountiful connections.

So bless you women, and you mothers, and those who would be if they could. The world is sweeter and richer because of those sweeping, overwhelming feelings you carry. May we try to use them for good.