HIGH SCHOOL

My daughter (the middle child) came home from school today and asked if I would help her with her schedule for next year... her HIGH SCHOOL schedule. As I sat listening to her tell me what was and wasn't working and what questions she had, I just kept thinking how small and young she seemed to me. High School? Really? In less than six months. And as I sat there thinking that... I realized how far away we are from what we were when Chris was here.

MOURNING YEARS GONE BY

As I sat in church yesterday, a young family got up to perform a special musical number. The father was on the piano and the mother stood with the children. As I was watching them I was so touched by the sweetness and completeness of this little family. I looked at the three oldest. 9, 7, 5. I was suddenly overcome with feelings of grief. Grieving the years that have passed. Those innocent and precious children were the age my children were when their father passed. So young, so sweet. So wonderful to see this family - we were once a sweet little family as well. The tears started and wouldn't stop. I started getting strange glances from my children. The tears just kept coming and coming. Long after the musical number was over, I was still crying. I felt like I was holding back... allowing the tears but blocking the sobbing that so wanted to come out. I contemplated making a run for the bathroom but felt like I was already making a spectacle of myself and thought that may just exaggerate that. So, I sat and let the tears continue to fall.

I can't say for sure what brought it on - but I can say that the topic of "mourning the years gone by" has been heavy on my heart lately. In moments of frustration the kids have retaliated at me with 'facts from the past' concerning my bad parenting behavior. It has left me reflecting on years I don't care to think about again. Years that I can't re-do. Years that have been wasted. Or so it seems.

The question is really... what would / could I have done differently. My 'bad parenting' is a reflection of trying to be a parent to children who were reacting with anger to their father's death, while trying to grieve the loss of my husband. My patience was short. I was trying to process through my own grief and that left little brain capacity for disobedient children. I was quick to yell, to lose my patience. I was incapable of of doing it.... well. I became this crazy mother that was nothing like I had once been. I look back and wonder what could have changed things. How could I have maintained the happiness and love in that little family and just continued on? Perhaps there is another widow out there that has considered this more or been more successful that could share some tips. For me... I need to forgive myself. I need to let go of the thoughts that they have been years wasted and I need to make the most of the years I now have.

AFFLICTIONS AND MUCH SORROW

I don't know the particulars of how it works when you "invent" something. Do you get to keep collecting money every time that item is sold or improved on? Is it like Hugh Grant in About a Boy, where the next generation doesn't have to work because they can sit back and collect the royalties?

I hope so. Especially for those who invented things like dishwashers and indoor plumbing. As a widow, with very little 'extra' time for leisure type activities, one of my favorite inventions has been 'books on tape (CD)'. That is fabulous. I would not have 'read' one book in the past five years if it wasn't for that invention. But, instead I have 'read' several children's mystery/action books, some inspirational ones for me, and even Twilight!

I was driving in the car last week and started to click through the CD's in my player to see what was there for me to listen to. I stopped at The Book of Mormon and decided some on-the-go scripture study may be just what my soul was needing. I was in 2 Nephi. Lehi is getting ready to die. He is talking to each of his children to counsel them and bear his testimony to them(reminded me of the day Chris passed when he had an opportunity to do that for his children). I got to Chapter 2 and it began... "And now, Jacob, I speak unto you: Thou art my first-born in the days of my tribulation in the wilderness. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the rudeness of thy brethren. Nevertheless, Jacob, my first-born in the wilderness, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions‍ for thy gain. "

I stopped, went back and listened to it again and again. Then I did as Nephi did, when studying Isaiah, as recorded in 1 Nephi 19:23, "I did liken all scriptures unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning."

Then as I listed to the scripture again I heard "And now, my children (specifically my three), I speak unto you. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the passing of your father. Nevertheless, my children, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions‍ for thy gain. "

I knew in that moment very clearly and strongly, and I will testify to each of your now. That is true. I believe that when we are subjected to afflictions and much sorrow because of others or because of things that have happened to us in our lives, that God will consecrate those afflictions for our gain. I know that I need not worry about that pain and suffering my kids have endured, because every tear of suffering and sorrow will be returned a hundred times in the form of a blessing to them. The Lord knows, cares, and loves us. He will make right any affliction that is placed upon us.

WATCHING THEM GROW UP

I was just watching the movie The Last Song. I didn't know anything about the movie... it just looked like a good clean family movie to watch.

My father-in-law died in an industrial accident years ago, before he was my father-in-law. Our families were friends, so I still remember very clearly when I was told he had passed. There had been an explosion, he was burned badly. He had survived a couple days, but then passed.

In the early days of the TV Show ER, I used to enjoy watching it. My mother-in-law would watch with me. I remember one time the subject matter of the show was a case involving a burn victim. My mother-in-law left the room. She couldn't watch. I understood, but didn't understand what that felt like.

Tonight as I was watching the movie, I found it was about a father who had been estranged from his children. He has them come stay with him for the summer. As the movie unfolds you discover he is dying from cancer. It is still hard to watch that. I find it impossible to watch it - without feeling those feelings all over again. Without looking at the 'reality' of life as I know it.... as my kids know it. Without feeling the pain all over again of my kids growing up without their father. Now, years later, I can truly understand what that must have felt like for my mother-in-law. Why she preferred to change the channel on those nights.

In the movie the older sister comments regarding her younger brother that her dad won't get to see him grow up.

I would just like to disagree with that, if I may. My kids are not the little kids they were when their father passed. They have grown up. They are turning into teenagers, young adults with mature thoughts and decision making power. They have missed the daily interaction with their father. Had he been here, they would have become someone else. But, even though he was not here... I know that he has watched them grow up. He has been there for them in moments he could not have been otherwise. He has not been able to physically hold them or discipline them, but he has been able to help them feel his love for them when they needed it. He has watched them grow up. Death takes away many things, but that is not one of them.

SIX YEARS

On my last day of work a couple weeks ago, I came home to flowers from a friend with a note that read, "To brighten your day and celebrate a new door opening in your life!"

I feel as though that has been my theme this year. Moving forward... new doors opening... I have gained tremendous strength and finished much of the healing process. I am liking the person I am becoming and accepting myself in all my weaknesses. My kids are stronger.. they are better. It truly felt like a milestone year.

We attended church today, my oldest went home with a friend following church and the younger two are snug on the couch with each other watching a movie. Chris died on a Sunday. It is odd thinking the years have gone by enough for the 16th to fall on the same day of the week. It has my mind thinking forward to the events of the days that followed.

I asked my kids today to tell me some 'stories' they remember about their dad. This is what they told me... in their words:


Wrestling on the furry white carpet at Grandma's house.

He woke us up late at night and made us finish our chores.

Packing us a lunch box to go to grandma's and then watching him work (he packed pringles).

When we worked with him he gave us cracker sticks with cheese (in the little packages).

In the winter when he plowed at Grandma's he would make us big hills to sled on.

When we went to the hospital to see him they gave us popsicles.

When he was sick I (daughter) would come home from school and sit in his blue chair with him and watch TV with him.

He made me (youngest son) fried bologna for lunch.

We wanted to play in the sprinkler but he made us clean our room.

He put the train around the Christmas Tree.

He read us Harry Potter every night.

He told us ghost stories.

He took us to plane shows and car shows.

He took us out on the boat and when he turned fast our sister would cry.

He had dogs.

He showed us a stick bug.

Six years and moving forward. Life goes on. The Lord compensates for the loss. Joy is felt.

I think I am going to put in a fire.... and join the kids for the movie. And tonight when I say my prayers... I am going to express my gratitude for the tender mecies and the blessings that have made my cup to 'runneth over'.

YOU DON'T COUNT

My phone rang yesterday around 2:50pm. My oldest son was on the other end of the line. I was finishing up some errands and he had just arrived home from school. He recounted a story to me about a visit he had with the neighbor when he got home from school. He had walked over to his home as he saw him shoveling the six inches of snow that fell and thought he may be able to help him. The neighbor declined the assistance as he was a few scoops away from being done, but engaged in some conversation with him. As a mother I felt proud that my son had been so thoughtful as to offer his assistance. When he was done telling me about their conversation, I said, "You know... there is this widow that actually lives at the same address you do. Perhaps you should consider giving her a hand. I know her driveway needs to be shoveled." There was a pause. "What? No. You don't count."

"What do you mean I don't count?"

"You can't keep calling yourself a widow."

"Why, he is still dead. I AM still a widow."

"No...."

"Yes. And the widow would really like her driveway shoveled."

MAKING A SPECTACLE OF MYSELF

I mentioned a couple days ago that watching me.... is painful. At least when I am functioning in life on my "own". When the Lord is not using me, and therefore not making me better so I am usable... it is truly a painful experience. I have come to find that if there is a way to draw attention to myself in a negative way, I seek after these things. Not intentionally, mind you. For instance, my last day of work I was walking up the stairs from the lobby and I tripped on the step and fell on my face. It made quite the racket and the receptionist jumped. But, when she turned and saw that it was me, she just shook her head. That is a move she has seen too many times before from me. There was another associate in the lobby who was startled, but relaxed once I rolled over onto my back laughing at myself. I felt it appropriate that I would go out that way. I have made that move in front of numerous visitors who were patiently waiting in the lobby over the years.

I have a new way of drawing attention to myself these days. A couple days before Christmas I had returned with the children from Christmas shopping. My oldest, with an agenda I am sure, announced that he would be happy to clean out the car. I was grateful as we had accumulated quite the amount of garbage in there. I called a friend to pick me up and went to his home to wrap gifts. Christmas Eve we were going to dinner with friends and as we got ready to run some last minute errands before heading out of town, I realized I could not find the keys. I questioned my oldest regarding where the keys were. A blank look spread across his face and despite the hours spent that day, Christmas day, the day after Christmas, the week after Christmas... we never found the keys. So, celebrating my free time to take care of such inconveniences, I spent unemployed day two having the car towed about 45 minutes away to our closest Subaru dealership. Apparently, my car is full of security features, one of which is a feature within the key that requires having the car in a Subaru shop in order to make a copy (or a key from scratch).I didn't spend the extra $130 on the little push button thing to lock / unlock my car.. perhaps that indulgence will be for when I am employed again.

Again celebrating my new found time, I left the dealership with my new key and headed for Sam's Club. I manually (OK - by manually, I mean I pushed the button from in the car since I don't have a little remote any longer) locked the door and headed in to do some shopping. When I came out I put the key in the lock and unlocked the car. Upon doing so my car alarm went off. HONK..HONK..HONK..HONK..HONK.. I quickly got in the car and started it - which luckily turned the alarm off. After one more errand with the same results I called the dealership wondering what I was doing wrong. Nothing. Apparently that is just one more security device the vehicle has. For as long as I put off spending $130 on a remote... I won't be able to avoid making a spectacle of myself every time I get in the car.

I have gotten used to it now. But, I just shake my head in awe. It is so me. So painful to watch me trying to function in life. Sometimes I think Chris must get a kick out of watching my insanity!

UNEMPLOYED

My last day of work was December 30th. Last week was my first official week home. I had the option of starting a "J Term" class at the college on the 3rd and going right into a full semester. Logically it seemed like the right thing to do. I need to finish my degree. It is no fun providing for a family and being limited due to a piece of paper. But, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I have been running like a crazy lady for over seven years. I was craving the down time. My house is craving some attention. Things to be cleaned, organized and fixed. And my body is craving some attention as well. When did I get this roll on my midriff? (I know... tmi)

After my first week... I can say I exercised three days. Saw two friends I had not seen in a very long time. Made dinner for a family. And watched other friend's kids. I also spent some time in doctor offices as my post a couple days ago mentioned. And I spent a day having my car towed and at the Subaru dealership having a new key made for my car that has been sitting in my garage for two weeks (thank you to the oldest child). So - I still have the roll around the waist and I am sitting here looking at my house wondering how it can be such a mess when I am HOME?? But, the kids did eat more REAL dinners last week. And I made cookies twice and banana bread once. And... in the process of it all I applied for unemployment and looked for a new job.

I am looking forward to a busy and productive week this week. So much to do!!!

MY BOOK OF EXCUSES FOR NOT BEING A BETTER BLOGGER

I don't typically use this site to truly log in like a diary... but I have not exactly been keeping up on my journal either.

I committed to myself that all that was captured here would be the embers.. and all ashes would be left behind. I hope today's entry does not stray from that commitment too much.

Let me just take a moment to say... I hope to get back to blogging soon. My goal was one year. I did well... for quite a while... but I have been bad about it lately. Perhaps I need to update my goal to be 365 posts.

I don't mean to make excuses for my lack of writing... but I know my fellow widows will understand that sometimes life just hits you from all directions. I wish I could offer some consoling words that eventually it stops. I will say I am better equipped, emotionally and otherwise, to handle the storms... but the storms continue to rage.

In the last six months my oldest moved back home after a hiatus of living with his uncle and their family. He has on multiple occasions tested the boundaries, I am certain as a way of questioning if he will be 'sent away' again. He continually comments that life was better there. I know he loved his time there - but I think the comments are just a way for him to test and see if I am going to send him back. He is looking for reaction. His grades are not good. I made the decision to hire a tutor to come in every day. Financially it put a pinch on things - but the stress it has removed from me is huge. He has been vocal about his feelings / or lack of feelings regarding the existence of God. I treaded lightly on those waters, as for any who read here regularly know that my faith in God is unwavering. I credit Him for getting me here today. sane (or at least pretty close to it). I have felt his watchful eye and caring hand for me and my family. There is a part of me that would react with anger at the mere mention that God does not exist. For - how could my son be so ungrateful. We have so much. God has truly compensated in our lives for the loss of my husband. I bit my tongue... spent many hours on multiple occasions listening and did a lot of praying to know when to stop biting my tongue (it was starting to hurt) and when to open my mouth and what to say when I did. Currently we are taking a hiatus from his life of "atheism". He commented to me the other day that things are better at home. We are all getting along better. I could tell you the moment it changed. And perhaps I will someday. For now, I will just say that my Father in Heaven truly loves me. He is there for me and answers my prayers in time. I was given the strength to endure and the words to say when needed. I don't believe that battle is over - but it has quited for now. His behavior in church was such that he was "eliminated" from his Sunday School class. I feel badly for the poor Bishopric member who showed up at my house and had to witness my tears and pleading that SOMEONE would help me in my efforts of single parenting. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is perfect in its organization. As 'men' we are not always perfect in carrying it out. I 'should' have resources available to me... a home teacher.. a Young Men's president, something. I felt alone. I am tired of trying to do it alone. This poor man had to sit and endure my tears and pleadings for help. After he left I got a hold of myself and stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized that my oldest may not have 'local' support like I wish he did - but because of my calling at church he has the attention and interest of the Stake YM President and his councilors.. they seek him out.. they call him at home. They challenge him to complete things and to stretch himself. They have a relationship with him. We are not without anyone... God fills in where needed.

My calling at church has taken some time for me to begin to settle in to. I still feel very inadequate and out of my element... but I am starting to 'settle' and 'catch up' on all that needs to be done.

I have been given a date for my last day at work. Up and down... up and down...they have finally eliminated my position. This is not a surprise. I saw it coming for a long time. They have taken care of me on my departure... another blessing from above. I suppose I should be concerned... single mother and all... but even my kids are looking forward to it. My friend's eight-year old son asked me what I was going to do. I told him I am going to just be a mom for awhile. I miss that.

All this and more has encompassed the last few months of my life. The addition to it all is I am dating someone who is wonderful. Finding the time to dedicate to fostering that relationship is near impossible.. but as with everything in single parenthood it becomes a game of prioritization. Less gets done around the house in exchange for time with someone great. But - alas I am and always have been a bit of a 'freak show'. So, while the entrance of this person is wonderful... there are a slew of emotions to cope with along the way. Perhaps I will touch more on that another day.... I could say a lot about that.

My good girlfriend is undergoing chemo for breast cancer. She just started a week or two ago. My husband's cousin was just diagnosed with breast cancer. My friend from work is working on recovering from non-hodgkin's lymphoma, and a friend from my b.w. life (that is Before Widowhood) is battling cancer with her young son. I am looking forward to some time of not working.. perhaps will give me a chance to give back to everyone that has given to me.

I'd say enough whining!! On to blogging!!! But - really I hope you read this with the right tone. I am not whining. I still testify that my Father in Heaven loves and cares for me. He knows me. And He must see potential for more growth in me... cause the storms still rage. I am glad He has confidence in me! :)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

It was an interesting Thanksgiving this year. I was very pensive and reflective. I was very much longing for "home". Longing for time with my sisters and parents (you too baby bro - but you are far far away). I spent a lot of my day thinking how things have changed over the past six years.

My mother-in-law used to live in town and holidays were always spent with her. She moved about a year after Chris' passing. Since then I have had an assortment of different ways to spend my holidays. I have had some with just me and the kids, one with my family, and others with friends.

I spent time wondering what I wanted. How did I want to spend my holidays - and wondering what the future would bring in terms of traditions. Would my kids feel as though we had any - or was the change so constant they won't be able to identify any traditions? Every year has been different. I may think I am going to start a tradition, but it only lasts a year or two. Is it time to settle in and create some substance? Some traditions? I think it is.

REALLY?

I just had a weekend to myself. Kinda. Well, more to myself than I have had in my entire life I believe. It was weird... but so nice. I had so many thoughts and so much to blog... but my lack of internet access was a bit of a hold up. It was a milestone trip for me in more ways than one... stay tuned.. I'll share.

I returned home and it was great to see my kids. I get so used to them being around, I didn't know what to do with myself solo!! My daughter informed me that I needed to get water. Oops... I never did that. I had gotten a couple jugs - but they didn't last while I was gone. I immediately inquired how Kyle was. She informed me that she had refilled one of the jugs with tap water - and so Kyle didn't know. Brilliant. I gave her a high five for that quick thinking.

Unfortunately, I didn't think to check and see if we still had a bottle filled. We didn't. Kyle didn't eat breakfast this morning. He sat playing with his oatmeal stating it was too hard to eat when he was so thirsty! really? Dude!!! Drink the tap water! It is OK!!!

FIGHTING

Often I feel like I am fighting to be able to keep fighting. That probably doesn’t even make sense… but there seems to be this fine line between letting go (with the kids) in a responsible and controlled way.. and letting go because I don’t have the energy to do it any longer.

I HAVE CREATED A MONSTER

I have written before about my 'changes' that I made after Chris' death. My youngest was five when all these changes took place. They have become normal and necessary parts of his life. Culligan water is a staple. He panics when we run out. We are out right now, and hopefully I will remember over lunch hour tomorrow to stop and pick some up. My son is very thirsty tonight. I have seen him in the kitchen repeatedly looking for water. No matter how many times he looks... we still only have the water that comes out of the faucet. It is past bedtime. I am actually finding a few minutes to relax this evening. I heard him in the kitchen grumbling about how thirsty he is but that there is no water. I assured him that he could drink the water from the faucet... he will be OK. A couple minutes later I heard the microwave running and heard him getting ice. I asked what he was up to and he revealed that he had a great plan! He was heating the water in the microwave to kill all the germs. Then he would put it on ice (I didn't have the heart to tell him the ice is made from water from the faucet). He even was planning to do some extra so he could have water in the morning! I commended him for his fantastic plan. He quietly asked that I would please get water tomorrow so he had something to drink. I'll try. I promise I'll try. In the meantime, thankfully he has some ingenuity.

IF I WERE TO BE ARRESTED...

If I were to be arrested, what would happen to my kids? Who would take care of them? This is just one of many questions you have as a widow. Where there is no back-up (spouse or ex-spouse) around to help out… what happens, especially when I don’t even live close to my family.

I am sure the ‘right’ answer here is that I should not get arrested, so I should not have to worry about it… but sometimes… that is not as easy as it sounds.

About three years before Chris passed I was driving along a highway in a small neighboring town. I was driving very slowly looking for a particular house number. After driving up and down through the town a couple of times, I ended up with a police officer behind me. I was certain he was going to ticket me for my slow speeds. Imagine my surprise when he instead accused me of being over the speed by ten miles / hr. Was he kidding? He had to have the wrong white van. But – none the less a ticket was written. After getting the ticket I happened to find the house I was looking for, finished my business and headed home. I told Chris about the ticket when I got back home. He guessed accurately that the person who wrote my ticket would be the brother to the husband of the lady whose house I was just at (did you follow that?). When I discovered he was right – I was sure to mention the ticket next time I saw my friend. She said she would talk to her brother-in-law regarding the ticket. I was told to re-schedule my court date. I requested the re-schedule and waited. I heard nothing. I waited. Nothing. I called and asked if a new date had been set. They told me it would be coming in the mail. Nothing. I called again. They told me the same thing. Nothing. I finally gave up. I don’t know how these things work… so I assumed my friend’s brother-in-law had seen the error of his ways and dropped the ticket.

Fast forward three years. My husband has passed. I received a letter in the mail stating that my license will be suspended in 30 days due to failure to appear in court. That is it. No info on how to contact the court, appear in court. Nothing! I call the court office. I leave a message. No one returns my call. I call again and again. No response. I call the town’s ‘emergency’ number. I leave a message. Finally, I get a call back. Court is on Thursday. I ask where. They give me an address. I show up at the address on the day at the time I was told. No one is there. My cell phone is dying. I start making phone calls to any person I know that knows anything about the town I am in, hoping someone can help. I finally reach someone who is able to tell me I am in the wrong location. They have built a newer building outside of town. I arrive before court is over and I am the last one called up.

The judge has no mercy. He doesn’t care about my story. If I want my case to be heard, I will need to reschedule. If I reschedule I will have my license suspended in the meantime and with that comes not only the loss of a legal right to drive (hello… single mom with kids here), but I will have to pay additional fines to get it reinstated. With all the frustration of the situation, I inquired if he could tell me what happened three years prior that caused me to not be notified of when my court date was. He looked at the paperwork he had and said it appeared the notice was returned. I asked what address it was mailed to. He told me. Their clerk had sent it to the CORRECT street address in the WRONG town. Well, it seems the judge’s wife is the clerk and he didn’t want to hear anything about her being wrong. And since the cop that issued the ticket was his buddy… a buddy that would never issue a ticket unless it was deserved, I was out of luck. I pulled out a check book and asked how much he would like to take from the widow and the fatherless. I wrote the check. He gave me a receipt. I left.

Fast forward three weeks later. I am driving to see Chris’ cousin. I am on a road I have never been on before. It is a country road by appearance, no lines on the road – just trees around. I am driving about 50mph. I look in my rear view mirror… a cop. I pull over. He informs me the speed limit is 40mph. He goes to issue me a ticket, only to discover that my license has been suspended. They are taking me in! I have the three kids in the car with me. He doesn’t care what my story is either. He calls for back-up so they can tow my vehicle. I plead with him to call the judge. I paid the fine, and I am certain I made a big enough scene that the judge will remember me. I should not have my license suspended (unless a certain clerk is again unable to perform the duties of HER JOB!!). I frantically search my purse for the receipt the judge handed me. I can’t find it. I am overwhelmed with emotion. Fear. Frustration. Anger. The cop requests us to get in the back of his vehicle. The kids are crying. My youngest who is playing his Nintendo DS asks through his sobs if he can take it with him. I tell him of course. Take everything you want out of the car with you. The kids start walking towards the police car while I am one by one helping them gather their stuff. I glance behind me to see my youngest sobbing and staggering with tears down the middle of the road. I chastise the ‘arresting officer’ that the least he can do, if he is going to take me in, is assist so that my son doesn’t get hit by a car in the process. He jumped in to help. We squeeze into the back of the car. They kids comment that there are not seat belts. I comment loud enough for the cop to hear that they aren’t concerned about us or our safety. OBVIOUSLY. We sit in the back of the car waiting for back-up to arrive so they can stay with my vehicle until it is towed (ain’t that nice of ‘em). My mind is spinning, wondering what I am supposed to do. I say a prayer. I search my purse one more time. I had it. I knew I had it. I never clean out my purse. The receipt HAD to be in there. It was!! I found it!! It was probably the tenth time I looked – but I found it!!! I started screaming for joy. I believe the officer was relieved as well. We were released. I left with just a speeding ticket, a very strong distaste for ‘justice’, and a realization that getting arrested is not easy when you are a single mom!

REFLECTIONS.... QUESTIONS...

It is late.

Autumn is in the air tonight. I celebrated with a fire in the fire place. I find peace in this spot. Sitting in front of the last few embers and hearing the crackling. The embers remind me of my promise. I want to look forward with faith. I want to take the embers and leave the ashes.

My emotions are strong this evening. Reflection of almost six years. My decisions and the consequences of them. Was I wrong? Was I selfish? Have I made decisions that have harmed my children? What could I have done better? Why have I not been stronger? Wiser?

Six years is a long time. Have I respected that time by making the most out of it?

I am not who I would have been. My children are not who they would have been. Perhaps there is a purpose in that? Were we meant to be the people we have now become or the people we were on the path to becoming before?

My boys do not know the things their father knew. They want to. I see in them that internal desire to have his knowledge and wisdom. To be a source of help to others, to be able to fix one of the hundred things that have and do go wrong around the house. But, who is there to teach them? So, days and years pass.... many of those broken things go un-repaired. That is not the kind of home we once had. I see their yearning for yesterdays now gone.

Which part is mine? Which part is God's? I spend so much of my life surviving... sometimes I feel as though my kids have lost their father and their mother.

I reflect on years of wanting the insanity to stop. Wanting to just breathe. Those moments came (as moments only) - but life still has a void. A void that was not filled when the insanity stopped. I wanted to be still - but by being still, did my children miss out on learning and opportunities for a full life?

We live life 'my' way now. I miss the life that was 'our' way. But, I have strove to make the present a good place to be. I stretch myself physically and financially sometimes to give my kids other things. Things they may never have experienced in 'our' life... buy in 'my' life they exist. Perhaps it is my way of attempting to compensate... to fill their lives to cover the void. I don't think that is all a bad thing, is it? It is not like the void was going to go away... why not fill it with new adventures?

What will my final reflection be? Have I chosen wisely?

RETURNING TO FAITH AND FORGIVENESS

It has been time to re-group. How often do I need to do this? Could someone review the data on my blog and try to determine if I end up here on a regular cycle? I really have felt everything crashing down on me in the last couple weeks. Crabby kids, realization that the kids need much more than what I am able to give them in terms of time and assistance with homework, bad habits returning, worrying about my job, big bills coming in… I think I get a little weaker with every bit that comes my way.. and sometimes I feel that my children see my weakness and attack. I know it is not true – but I don’t know why they need to act-out when I am feeling tremendous weight on me. It just drills me into the ground even more.

I really would like to see a study done on children of single-moms. I think there tends to be some common attributes that many of them develop. Not all… ‘cause I see moms whose kids don’t act that way – but others I see a very common theme. Why? What is it, psychologically, that causes them to essentially turn on the very one who is sacrificing everything for them? It is a safety thing? Do they have their own hurt and anger that they need to work through, and mom is that safe person they can take it out on, who will still love them when they are done? I really don’t know… but I do know it can be exhausting.

We have made strides here… the kids behavior does not fit this profile as often as it once did. In fact, we visit this place so much less often, I forgot how incredibly draining it can be.

As I prayed and pondered over the many needs I felt I needed this past week… I started to see answers come… one by one. I felt myself sinking… and I felt God giving me a hand, pulling me back. A friend took my kids on Sunday afternoon, giving me a much needed mental break. My job has been extended, another friend has offered to come in everyday to do homework with the kids before I get home from work… I see the hand of God in my life. I chastise myself for those times of ‘sinking’ as I feel it represents a lack of faith. I know God lives and loves me. I know He watches over my every need, and that although I am tested, my needs are always met. So, I just ask Him for forgiveness for allowing myself to sink. And He does... He will forgive me, just like I forgive my children.

YES, I AM BETTER

Parent Teacher Conference was tonight. The news... sadly, was not so different than what past years has been. It is usually a very draining evening that has me in tears by the end - because I feel overwhelmed and unsure of how to make things better.

As I was headed out this evening, I stopped by the Guidance Counselor's office to discuss an issue. He is very familiar with my situation, as he has changed positions in the school and as a result has been the guidance counselor to one of my kids for about four years. He is very familiar with the oldest and all the history that goes with it. He asked how my evening was, to which I reminded him that I had just finished parent-teacher conference... and the news... was much like news I would have received a couple years ago. I thought we were going to be past this. BUT, I am NOT crying! The Counselor smiled, and acknowledged that at the very least I was handling it all better.

The child may not be better, but I am better.

And, on a positive note... said Counselor has offered the kill the kid for me~! (darn, there we go again with that killing kids thing that is going to get me in trouble!)

DEFINE GET SOME EXERCISE?

This is what I fondly refer to as "Conference Weekend". It actually kicked off last weekend with a Broadcast from Salt Lake for the women - and wrapped up today after eight hours this weekend of being able to hear from the Prophet and Apostles. I enjoy it - but it can also be a challenge to keep the children engaged. In between the last two sessions of conference today - the kids were crowded around the laptop watching videos of babies laughing. I cringed, because I thought this was the worst way to spend their time - when they would be sitting for another two hours after just a little longer. I sent them outside. Told them to run around the block and get some exercise. I picked up my video camera this afternoon to show my friend something on it... and found this. I guess they didn't go around the block. And sadly, I was even HOME when this took place.

KILL THE KID OR KISS THE KID?

I know kill sounds harsh. I am not sure where that phrase came from - but I can say it just fine. Writing it... now I feel like a bad person for even thinking I am going to kill my child (not that I actually thought that - just thought / said the phrase). Well, except for the time that my husband and I considered the advantages and disadvantages to killing our seven year old before he reached an age of accountability. We thought we could sacrifice our salvation for his... you know. It was not looking good when he was seven, what would the rest of his life bring?

In all seriousness, now having written that, I feel as if it could be used against me in some court of law. Like some freak accident will happen, and the words of my blog saying I thought about killing my child will be spread all over national TV. So, let me just clarify... there is not a piece of me that would hurt my child in any way... but sometimes... oh sometimes, I just don't know what to do with these kids.

My youngest is the culprit lately. Crabby, crabby, crabby. And I can not figure out why. Possible reasons:

1. His dad's birthday - makes us all a little on edge
2. He is tired because he is up listening to his ipod into the night instead of sleeping.
3. School has been in for a few weeks now, and he is still adjusting to the early mornings.
4. Football season is getting old and starting to wear on him.
5. He is right, I am the worst mother ever.
6. I am dating someone... (I will fill you all in one of these days) and for the first time in years, he is having to share me like never before
7. He is getting closer to those teenage years, and is turning ornery early
8. He is spoiled rotten

So, depending which of these reasons are correct, should determine my response. Does he need hugs and kisses and time with mom? Or, does he need some quiet time in his bedroom and doing extra chores?

Sometimes, I get sick of being the only parent and having to figure this out on my own.

JOY IN OUR JOURNEY

My oldest has taken up MMA (mixed martial arts) since arriving back home in June. I have noticed he is more dedicated and committed to practice than I have ever seen him before.

I am proud of him. He is keeping a very busy schedule, in fact I sometimes don't feel I get to see him too much except to say goodnight... But, through it all he is effectively managing his time on his own. He gets himself to and from practices, has taken up being a teacher's assistant for the little kids and makes sure he is where he needs to be and also completing his homework.

His first kickboxing match was tonight. My boys are growing up. They are healing. We are finding joy in our journey once again.