Suffocating

     The other day I attended a Mission Homecoming address in Sacrament Meeting for my friend's daughter.
     On the pew in front of me, there was a little girl named Molly.  I knew that was her name because she had a notebook with her name on it.  She made me think of a little buddy I have, named Molly.  The little girl sitting in front of me was probably about five years old.  Her hair was perfectly placed in darling pigtails.  She had a younger sister, about three years old, whose hair was also in perfect pigtails, and they both were wearing darling dresses.   They were sitting with their dad and a couple that appeared to be their grandparents--maybe their mother was home with a sick child or a new baby.        
     Anyway, I was very impressed with whom ever the beautician was that did their hair.  How did they get those little girls to sit still long enough to achieve Sunday hair perfection?  Whenever I try to do my nieces' hair, it always has lumps, is uneven, or there is wailing and gnashing of teeth and tears because I am apparently not soft enough.  I wish I could make little girls' hair look cute--either I don't have that talent or I have not had enough practice.  
     The little girls sitting in front of me also had an older brother--he was probably about eight years old.  His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a spiffy suit with a tie.
     I don't know why, but the thought came to me that I may never have the opportunity to "practice" doing little girls' hair for church.  I may never spend Sunday mornings searching for lost church shoes and slicking back little boys' hair.   The little girls were so sweet and I longed to have little girls of my own that I could put in matching dresses and homemade bows.  Out of no where, I felt like my heart would burst.  My deepest desire is to have my own babies and toddlers and teenagers.  Time is ticking.  I don't know how much longer my window for child bearing will be open.  Will I never have that blessing and privilege?  Not only do I want to have children of my own, I want to have the opportunity to take them to church and teach them about Jesus and God's love.  I want walk up the stairs in my mom's house with a carseat and a baby in it, as my sisters have.  I want to take my own children to the zoo and parades.  I want to have late night chats with my own daughter or son.   My bursting heart started to beat faster and my breathing became labored.  I don't know how to describe what I was feeling other than I felt like I was suffocating.  It was so intense I felt anxious and numb at the same time.  Perhaps it was like I sobbing inwardly, but tears didn't flow, as I would have expected.  
     Thankfully the feeling didn't last the entire day.  It didn't even last the rest of the meeting, but for a  brief period of time during that meeting, I felt like I was suffocating.   

     "Faithful daughters of God desire children. In the scriptures we read of Eve, Sarah, Rebekah, and Mary, who were foreordained to be mothers before children were born to them. Some women are not given the responsibility of bearing children in mortality, but just as Hannah of the Old Testament prayed fervently for her child, the value women place on motherhood in this life and the attributes of motherhood they attain here will rise with them in the Resurrection. Women who desire and work toward that blessing in this life are promised they will receive it for all eternity, and eternity is much, much longer than mortality. There is eternal influence and power in motherhood."

                 Sister Julie B. Beck
                  LDS General Conference October 2007

Red Carpet

     Last week was the first week of school for my students.  I have the funnest job in the world--I am the Theatre/Drama teacher for two elementary schools.  I teach all the students Kindergarten through 5th Grade.
     At one of my schools, there is a grand tradition for the first day of school.  As all the children enter the front doors, they enter on RED CARPET.  Music is playing, with the staff on the side lines cheering students on as the enter for another year of learning.  Each students receives a pencil and high fives.  The kids love it.  I overheard one girl say, "Yeah, last year, we were movie stars on the first day of school."  What a great way to start off the year!

     This year, the principal has added a theme of "Super Heroes." Staff members were encouraged to wear Super Hero attire at the welcoming ceremony.  I found my cape I made a few years ago and wore the attire of a true Super Hero:  a MOM!  (see my post  "When I Grow Up").  

      Because I taught at this school last year, I knew most of the student waltzing proudly and anxiously down the red carpet.  I admit, I got a little teary.  I LOVE these kids!  With the fun music (This is the Best Day of My Life) blaring, the anticipation in the air, the Super Heroes cheering and the red carpet, I was completely caught up in the moment.   What a great way to begin the school year and honor the students--they are the Super Heroes of the future!

"Isn’t that what we all desire: to be the heroes and heroines of our own stories; to triumph over adversity; to experience life in all its beauty; and, in the end, to live happily ever after?"   
           -Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "Your Happily Ever After."   
           General Conference April 2010

Shopping

     Shopping.  I hate it.  Many women thrill at the thought of an evening out with a friend "shopping."  Not many more things make me feel like puking--well, maybe sea food.  

    One of the reasons I have such an aversion to the activity, is I've never really had an excess of money to frivolously spend--I have had to be more frugal.  My mom would only let us buy school clothes from the sale rack--she refused to pay full price for anything.  That habit has carried over.  I tend to live on the frugal side.  

    Another reason is, I am right between the largest of the kid section and the smallest of the adult section in clothing size.  It is super annoying.  Every time I find something "totally cute," they don't have it in my size--plenty of medium, large, and extra large, but the store just happens to be out of that "totally cute" item in small.  Or, the small is too big—and they don’t carry extra small.  Or, if the item DOES come in my size and it looks “darling” on the rack, in the dressing room, to my dismay and frustration, it looks weird on me.  I’m not a swearing woman, but I have come close in a department store dressing room.  After feeling like I have wasted way too much time and leaving the store disgruntled and empty handed, I vow to never go shopping again.   (OK, fine, a little DISCLAIMER: On a rare occasion I have been known to find something in the kid section that works...NOTE:  kid sizes are often less expensive!  Score!  But that is RARE, more frequently I leave fuming with frazzled hair).  Maybe those women who LOVE shopping have better luck in the department store than I have had.  Someday, maybe I will graduate from a training bra.  Just kidding...sort of.  

     I can’t think of a job I would hate more than working at a clothing store (well, maybe waitressing).  Ugh.  Hanging up clothes all day.  I’m lucky if I get that done at home with my own clothing, but hanging up unwanted clothes tried on by shoppers.  Ew!

     There is one thing however, that I do love shopping for:  BABY CLOTHES!  In an attempt to go “Back-to-School” shopping or find some shoes or a socks (I always need socks), I often find myself meandering past the Infant/Baby Section.  I LOVE BABY CLOTHES!  I think I often spend more time in the Baby Section than the adult (or kid section).  There are so many cute outfits for babies!  Some of them make me smile out loud (yes, I just said smile out loud).  I love to imagine sweet, precious babies made to look even cuter in infant clothes. 

    I love baby clothes so much, even if a friend has “registered” for diapers or a bathtub for a baby shower, I HAVE to buy baby clothes.   I love watching the mother-to-be open and hold up cute onesies or dresses or baby boy swim wear or pajamas from other friends. 

 

 

    A little while ago, I was in the Baby Section looking for a cute outfit for a baby shower.   Out of the blue, I started to tear up, thinking that I may never experience a baby shower.  I may never have my own babies to dress up in cute outfits.  I may never have my own baby to cuddle and coo at me.  I may never experience the joys and hardships of pregnancy.  Not being married yet, the chances of me giving birth to my own children are really slimming.  It makes me a little scared, anxious, and sad.  I’m not giving up hope, but I have to face the harsh reality that I may not bear and rear children in this life.  My heart aches and longs for this privilege.   

      I truly thrill and rejoice when people I love give birth or adopt newborns.  But that day in the Baby Section, I allowed my self to shed tears and recognize the reality of unfulfilled dreams. 

       In my heartache for motherhood, I cannot allow my circumstances to stop me from mothering.  I must find ways to mother others.  I am grateful for mothers who have allowed me to help mother their children.  Although I do not have children of my own, I hope to be known as someone who as a “Mother Heart.”

“A woman who treasures motherhood on earth will treasure motherhood in the world to come, and “where [her] treasure is, there will [her] heart be also” (Matt. 6:21). By developing a mother heart, each girl and woman prepares for her divine, eternal mission of motherhood…. In my experience I have seen that some of the truest mother hearts beat in the breasts of women who will not rear their own children in this life, but they know that “all things must come to pass in their time” and that they “are laying the foundation of a great work” (D&C 64:32–33).”

              -Sister Julie B. Beck

               General Conference, April2004

FYI:  Here is another rip off:  Every time I have seen a shirt or outfit that mentions the word “aunt,” it is always super plain and boring or even ugly.  “World’s Greatest Aunt” but ugliest ever outfit.  Note to clothing designers:  If you want to sell your product to proud aunts, create something cute and attractive for the auntie to buy.

Ish...Ish

     Every time we visited my Grandma, we knew that on top of her fridge, she would have a plastic plate filled with Jolley Ranchers.  We knew that at sometime during the visit at Grandma's house, one of the kids would build up enough courage to ask if we could have one.  Of course we would get one (or two or more), but we had to ask to be polite.
     My Grandpa always had  a pack of Peppermint or Wintergreen Lifesavers in his pocket and he would pop the top one off with his thumb and give it to the grandkids.
     My mom loves to take her grandkids to McDonalds.  She was even nicknamed, "Grandma Donalds" by some of the kids.  One summer, three of my sisters all had baby boys--born June, July, and August.  I remember a picture with all of them in their car seats at McDonald's--she likes to start them young.
     When my oldest niece was not old enough to be talking yet, my dad would approach her, wrinkle his pocket so she could hear a wrapper and suddenly produce a package of fruit snacks.  Since then, he always has a package of fruit snacks in his pocket or his car for the grandkids.  He has been named by a few of them, "Grandpa Treat."  The kids love it.  He loves it!
      A few years ago, I went to visit my friend, Julie, and her children.  I just happened to have some Swedish Fish in my car and I passed them out to the kids.   The next time I visited her, one of the kids asked if I had any more Swedish Fish.  Since then, I have to come prepared...or I am in real trouble.  The first thing these kids ask me, is if I brought any Swedish Fish.  I have learned and I have an emergency stash in my car.  There are now seven kids in the family.  I LOVE these kids!   I kind of feel like they are adopted nieces and nephews.  The three year old was a late talker, but every time he would see me, he would say, "Ish? Ish?"  He knew:  my face equalled Swedish Fish.  In fact,  I think "Ish" was one of his first words.
     Now, I am not advocating for sugar or fast food, but sometimes Grandparents, aunts, and adoptive aunts need little treat traditions.  And you know what Willy Wonka would sing, "The Candy Man can cause he mixes it with LOVE and makes the world taste good."
  


"...traditions are formed over time as we repeat the same actions over and over again. As we are steady and unchanging in doing that which is good, our traditions become firmly rooted in righteousness."   
                                     -Sister Cheryl C. Lant,
                                     General Conference April 2008

How Old Is Your Daughter?

     Conversation starters between women often begin with: "How many children do you have?"  When I pose this question, I am genuinely interested in finding out.  When the the question is asked of me, however, sometimes there is an moment of awkward silence when I respond, "None, I'm not married."  The other woman usually doesn't know how to respond to this and conversation stops for a moment. There is a look in her eye that hints that she doesn't know if she hurt my feelings by asking and she tries to quickly change the subject. I have found other ways to respond that question, in my attempt to avoid the thick silence that I know will permeate after she finds out I am childless.   So, when I am asked, "And, how many children do you have?"  I often respond, "I don't know!"  I have received some pretty weird looks until I finish, "I'm not sure, 'cause they are all still in heaven--I haven't found their daddy yet."  (I mean, their daddy hasn't found me!)

        In my church, I serve with the youth group, particularly the girls ages 12-18.  I LOVE it!  I love the girls and the other leaders I serve with--the girls organization is called "Young Women's." (YW)  Each week I attend their class at church and we also have a week night activity.  I have really enjoyed getting to know the girls.  Spending time with them has truly been one of the greatest blessings in my life.  

         One thing I started recently, I offer to give a ride to any of the YW that would like to go to the temple before school.  The temple has blessed my life so much that I want to make sure they can get there--especially the ones too young to drive themselves.  So, I designated one morning a week to offer a ride to any of them that can come.  (While I was there last week, I over heard one of the temple workers say that 800 ordinances had been performed by the youth before 7:00 a.m. that morning!)  

         A few days ago, I was at the temple in the wee hours of the morning with one of my YW,   (I will call her "M").   Another girl that was in the temple saw me talking to M and asked, "How old is your daughter?"  I told her that M was not my daughter, I was just her YW leader.  I kept hearing that question in my head all day, "How old is your daughter?"   That might have hurt someone else's feelings--digging deeper the wounds of unfulfilled dreams, but I took it as a deep compliment.  I love M!  I would love her to be my daughter.  I would love to be her mom.  

     I love all of my YW--as if they were my own daughters.  I claim them all--they are mine!   Because I have more freedom with my time, I can do things, like take them to the temple in the morning--in fact, if I did have my own teenage daughters, that is exactly what I would be doing with them!  I am so grateful to have 16 daughters!  I may not have given birth to them, but they are mine.  I have a deep love for them.  I want them to be happy.  I want them to succeed.   I want them to feel loved.  I want them to feel God's love for them.   I want them to develop a love for Jesus Christ and an understanding of what He has done for them.  With them, I have hiked, camped, snowshoed, sang, toilet papered, cooked, danced, laughed, cried, served, had deep spiritual conversations, played practical jokes, and more--all of which I dreamed I would do with my own daughters.  

      A few years ago, I lived in another city and I served in YW in another congregation.  Even though I didn't serve for very long, I still count those girls as MINE.  Some of them are in their 20's now...one of them has her mission call to Peru!

      I am grateful that the mothers of my YW have shared their daughters with me.  This Mother's Day, I am grateful for the privilege and opportunity to mother MY daughters.  How old is my daughter?  Well, I have several...they are between 12 and 18...and some in their 20's.  

"As daughters of God and disciples of Jesus Christ, we [must] 'act according to those sympathies which God has planted' in our hearts. Our sphere of influence isn’t limited to our own family members.....'whenever a woman strengthens the faith of a child, she contributes to the strength of a family—now and in the future.' "

  -Sister Carole M. Stephens, General Woman's Session of General Conference  April 2015 

PS If you missed them, here are my Mother's Day posts from last year (it was fun for me to revisit them):

Mother's Day Thoughts 

Mother's Day Mishaps