tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22688313474445977362024-03-21T14:26:33.031-07:00The Barrett BroadsJust a few quirky sisters trying to keep in touch and write about any random thought that comes to mind.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-31662133117428641772017-03-02T15:37:00.001-08:002017-03-02T15:37:16.572-08:00She<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrb7fXpB02M_yJoh1f7RiAX_y_bAKh8mERRJebRvXL6h0mJSXXbH1KEOl0beTYI6qgsnB0sjd8Yegh2_sZgwnnUWSMyH8F9PsH3N-aZbWJvRajokj6ksA64Ozx7TRUdg9_VnD_bSXxhJj/s640/blogger-image-1057338500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrb7fXpB02M_yJoh1f7RiAX_y_bAKh8mERRJebRvXL6h0mJSXXbH1KEOl0beTYI6qgsnB0sjd8Yegh2_sZgwnnUWSMyH8F9PsH3N-aZbWJvRajokj6ksA64Ozx7TRUdg9_VnD_bSXxhJj/s640/blogger-image-1057338500.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p style="margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: '.SF UI Text'; color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-family: '.SFUIText';">I am sitting in Q's room rocking her to sleep. The arm she is laying on is starting to go a little numb. I have a couple drops of sweat running down the back of my neck. It's fareeking hot in here. I don't want to move too much or make eye contact for too long or else she will perk up and I really want her to sleep. I'm looking around her room. I see her crib, baby clothes, baby lotion, diapers and then I look at her little hands. All dimpley and round and she is grasping on to the neck of my t-shirt. I have so many thoughts going through my mind. I need to do these things, I can't forget to do this, I need check on someone that lives down the road. I just can't make myself leave this baby right now. She is my last one. Tomorrow she is going to be older. Something else is going to change. Maybe she will decide to take her first step? It will be soon, if not tomorrow, very soon. I can't believe that this is my life. I have three kids. Three beautiful girls. They exhaust me and drive me crazy daily. More than anything though they humble me, heaven knows they entertain me and they inspire me. I am in awe that God knew I could handle this. I didn't think I could handle having one more baby. I really didn't. Yet here I am doing it, it's made me better than I was before. It's made our family stronger. So much of the time I want to do something else. It's hard to be home all the time. But then I love being at home with my kids. I guess I just have moments of awareness when I realize I need to just soak it in. Enjoy it, love the good with the bad. </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: '.SF UI Text'; color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-family: '.SFUIText';">Spring is coming and the snow is melting. I find myself daydreaming about my garden. The bulbs I planted in the fall are starting to sprout. Peonies, hydrangeas, tulips, chicks and hens... They are all starting to grow! I they peony poked its red head through the dirt and I about peed my pants. I did a full on jig in the driveway. I am starting some plants from seed and I can't wait to see how they turn out! I'm excited to have a small vegetable garden. It's a learning process but I love it. </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: '.SF UI Text'; color: rgb(69, 69, 69);"><span style="font-family: '.SFUIText';">Love my sisters! I often think about my girls each having two sisters just like I do. It makes me really happy for them, that they will always have that support and love that only a sister can give.</span></p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-15272287602901330722017-02-04T10:29:00.000-08:002017-02-04T12:23:24.124-08:00We got each others BackOk.<br />
<br />
I need my sisters. I miss you both. Processing the quirks of our thoughts and actions is the most helpful thing I have found in understand myself and my kids. Partly because we are the same, but also because we are different, but especially because we love each other and we all know that.<br />
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Ok.<br />
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So I got some stuff going on. I have been reading about anxiety and I read this and it BLEW MY MIND.<br />
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The Anxiety Formula:<br />
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Overestimation of Threat + Understimation of Ability to Cope= Anxious Response.<br />
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Does that sound like perpetual low self esteem?<br />
Could low self-esteem just be the same as anxiety?<br />
Are all the things, people, places, situations that I hate for a multitude of reasons simply due to a gut and instinctual response that my brain is making to protect myself from perceived threats? An assumption that I am smaller and weaker than any threat.<br />
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For example:<br />
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Overestimation of threat= A particular person will certainly judge me for being stupid, fat, unlikable, or unfunny<br />
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Underestimation of self= I totally might be stupid, fat, unlikable or unfunny.<br />
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Anxious response= It is always going to be better to not risk that judgement. Avoid all people.<br />
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What I am trying to say is that it has never occured to me that those "bad" things are not true, but a faulty wiring in my brain.<br />
Just because I feel like someone is judging me doesn't mean that I am being judged or that whatever I think I might be judged about is even true or real.<br />
In fact, thinking those things are true and fearing that I will be judged for being those things ACTUALLY starts simulating those behaviors out of fear.<br />
<br />
I have heard that kids will live up to expectation. If you treat a kid like they are dumb then they act dumb. But why? Is it anxiety?<br />
<br />
I don't know if this makes sense, but I am trying to untie this big knot. <br />
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If the problem is ADD or Generalized Anxiety, It is brain wiring. And that is different than actually being unlikable or dumb.<br />
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Is it another example of "No one hates me more than me"? I'll beat you to the punch?<br />
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Help me figure this out...<br />
<br />
<br />Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-35325235645211769002016-02-24T15:00:00.000-08:002016-02-24T15:00:38.635-08:00I need a two for one<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 1.38;">In the interest of getting at least one thing accomplished in my life right now, I am posting my sacrament talk from a few weeks ago:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 1.38;">As a young adult, had several experiences that helped testimony foothold by Alma 32:27 - talks about experimenting upon the word..and says:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">“even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">You have to want it to be true, the Lord is not going to bless you with knowledge you don’t want</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I realized that I wanted it to be true, how could I not? The Gospel is beautiful and miraculous. I did then and do now </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">desire</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"> it to be true and because of that desire I have been blessed to </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">know</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"> that it is true</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">It was around this same time that I was given a lesson on divine nature, that resonated with me and further strengthened my testimony it was explained to me in the following way:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">If I believe that my spirit is literally a daughter of God, than I have within me a divine spirit. A spirit that wants to be good, that wants to make right choices, that wants to return to Heavenly Father. That is who I truly am. A divine spiritual being in a human body. The gospel isn’t trying to turn me into something different, something unnatural like a square peg to a round hole-- On the contrary. If I commit myself to living the Gospel, it sets me free to become who I really am. Who I am meant to be. The more I follow the Spirit, the more I see difference in how I behave when I have it and when I don’t. The Gospel teaches me to honor the goodness in me and others, and faithfully the Atonement allows me to recognize, repent and overcome my humanness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Quick disclaimer, the comments I am going to make are meant to be applied to difficult relationships, not abusive relationships.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Some time ago I found myself in the middle of a pretty drawn out argument. During this time I became overly concerned with how I was being treated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">personal empowerment had sort of taken over, mind filled with self-righteousness, fault finding and judgement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I felt fully and totally justified. Other people assured me I was in the right. But the situation just kept getting worse. Became clear it was not within power to fix situation</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I needed help. I plead with Heavenly Father to tell me what to do, whatever it was I would do it. I was impressed to turn to the scriptures and was reading in Mark chapter 8, when I came to the following verses:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">31 And he began to teach them, that the Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected of the elders, and of the chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">32 And he spake that saying openly. And Peter took him, and began to rebuke him. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">It was this scripture that surprised me, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">Peter rebuked Jesus?</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"> What would he have even said?? And then it hit me. He probably was telling Jesus, “you don’t deserve to be treated this way.” “You don’t have to put up with this, you can’t let them do this.” In this moment Peter no doubt felt like he was supporting Jesus by saying this, being protective even and he was right, Jesus did not deserve this treatment.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">But Jesus turns to Peter and says:</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Get thee behind me, Satan: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">This was a profound moment for me, what I needed to know was revealed to me. This scripture was telling me that nobody has faced more unfair or unjustified treatment than Jesus. But He was not concerned with how He was treated, He was not concerned with the things of men. He was concerned with the things of God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">The Lord had answered my prayers, revealing His presence and His awareness of me</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">He was telling me specifically how to approach my problem</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I also learned that:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">truly supporting other people is more than taking someone’s side. It’s trying to discourage sides in the first place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Truly supporting = encouraging them to forgive, find healing and see the bigger picture. What would Heavenly Father want us the situation to be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">We can’t and shouldn’t try to judge another person into being a certain way. Our job it not to judge others. Our job is to lift the fallen, to restore the broken and to heal the hurting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">How often in our lives are we more concerned with how we are being treated than how we are treating others? How often in our lives are we more concerned with the things of man than the things of God?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">As I tried to move forward in this situation, I found myself caught in a revolving door of getting offended, trying to forgive and getting reoffended. Then I read the following verse: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Luke 6:35 - “But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend , hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">Hoping for nothing again</span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">--meaning expecting nothing in return. If I try to do the right thing and it doesn’t work out and I am offended or hurt or bitter----then I am not following this scripture. </span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Any act, whether it’s a kind word, an apology, a gesture, act of service etc. cannot be contingent. </span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">You have to be prepared to make these offerings for free, let others be how they will be. To not allow a negative reaction or even no reaction to make you bitter or discouraged. That is not love. Love is patient, love is kind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">We know we must forgive others, but it is living a higher law to not be offended in the first place. This is an attribute that can only be grown and strengthened with the Lord’s help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">If we strive to have eyes to see and ears to hear, God can communicate with us in infinitely many ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I am a stay at home mom with three little kids, in a modern times...how could i possible identify with and learn from a war hero who lived in ancient america thousands of years ago. And yet, the lessons and comfort I received from reading Helaman’s epistle to Captain Moroni provided comfort and support during the saddest time of my life, the weeks surrounding the loss of my mother-in-law Christy Bollard. It was nearly 2 years ago that we lost her to cancer. And I do mean we, not only does she have family in this audience, but friends in this Ward as dear to her and to us as family</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">It is Alma chapter 58 where we read that the Nephites and the Lamanites have been in a long war. Helaman and his stripling warriors have survived despite some intense battles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman realizes his forces are small relative to the enormous amount of Lamanite soldiers</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Decides to hunker down and wait for reinforcements. Helaman sends a message to the government for provisions and soldiers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman says they wait “for many months,” and during this difficult time he and his nearly starve to death as they are surrounded, threatened and taunted by the Lamanites.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">This is a clear message to us that things do not necessarily always go well for those on the Lord’s errand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">After so much hardship, I’m sure Helaman and his company felt certain that they would be rescued, that this must be as bad as things could possibly get. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">At long last, help arrives, but it is not what they are expecting. Food and an army of only 2000 arrive. We read in verse 8:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">“and this is all the assistance which we did receive, to defend ourselves and our country from falling into the hands of our enemies, yea, to contend with an enemy which was innumerable…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman and his men had righteous desires, they were defending freedom and protecting their people</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">(skipping ahead)..and now the cause why they did not send more strength unto us, we knew not; therefore we were grieved and also filled with fear…”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman and his poor band of Nephites have been tried, they have suffered and they have endured. And now they are hit with a crushing disappointment. Aid has been sent but to their human eyes it is far from a rescue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">So what is their reaction? In verse 10 we read: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Therefore we did pour out our souls in prayer to God, that he would strengthen us and deliver us…” The Lord responds to these mighty prayers as Helaman observes –</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">“The Lord our God did visit us with assurances that he </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline;">would</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"> deliver us; yea insomuch that he did speak peace to our souls, and did grant unto us great faith, and did cause us that we should hope for our deliverance in him.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">It is such a human reaction to:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">expect rescue, to expect happy endings</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">expect that we deserve respite after having a difficult trial instead of receiving more difficulties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">But Helaman’s reaction is full of faith, is full of humility, he immediately turns to the Lord. He pours out his heart and he is blessed not only with peace and assurance, but he is inspired with a course of action. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman’s actual circumstances haven’t changed, but he has. </span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman knows that the light at the end of the tunnel is not an illusion, the tunnel is the illusion</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">He writes in verse 12 of his epistle:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">“And we did take courage with our small force which we had received, and were fixed with a determination to conquer our enemies..” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Helaman sets a faithful example and lead his army to victory against the Lamanites. We know that they were successful – which tells each of us that even though our </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">own situations may be dire </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">resources seem meager</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">with the help of the Lord we can face all our “enemies,” including grief, pride, sadness, sin, shortcomings and inadequacies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">At the time I read these scriptures I was moved by several very strong parallels. Firstly, Christy’s brave example as she faced the trial of her life, the trial that would end her mortal life. She told me once not long after her diagnosis that she had not been sleeping and had been up night after night praying and struggling with her new reality. She didn’t want to die and leave us all behind, even with a strong testimony it was a struggle to align what she wanted with what Heavenly Father’s plan was for her and by extension her family and friends. She hoped for healing, we all did. But like the rescue that Helaman waited for, that is not what came. But she turned to the Lord and asked Him not for what she wanted but for what she needed and again, just like Helaman, she did receive that peace and assurance—and the way she served Heavenly Father and touched the lives of those around her was magnificent. Her strength made us stronger. The way she faced this trial with faith, served us—it made it easier for us to cope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">We were so blessed that last year of Christy’s life, each of us had unspeakably tender experiences with her, we were so blessed by the Lord. It was incredibly difficult to watch her suffer and decline, and when she passed away we were grief-stricken and exhausted. Only to have the trial of being without her begin. I am a little embarrassed to talk about my pain in losing Christy. I am well aware it is a sadness and a longing that many of you share in. But for myself, I felt a little like Helaman struggling to hold on while waiting for reinforcements. Losing Christy was so devastating that without realizing it, I think I had an expectation that we would be spared further trials. At least for a while anyway. But within the next two weeks my own father would be fighting for his life in the ICU, another family member was diagnosed with cancer and our youngest daughter was diagnosed with autism. Not only were these difficult realities on their own, but they actually magnified how much we missed Christy. How we have missed her support, her humor, her unconditional love and her wisdom. We missed her help. But the Lord had revealed to me faithful paths to follow, the examples of Christy and of Helaman. Examples that taught me to get over my own wants and expectations, to accept His will, to lean on Him, and to carry on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">Many times in our lives each of us may feel like we are like Helaman, under siege, hoping for rescue and wrestling with disappointments and setbacks. Sometimes rescue doesn’t look like rescue, sometimes our enemies look innumerable. Sometimes it is struggle to forgive, to be patient, and to be more concerned with the things of God then the things of men. But as we rely on the Lord, as we turn our hearts to him, as we desire to know His will and receive revelation--we will be blessed with peace and assurance, desire and faith will solidify to knowledge and we will be blessed to see that the light at the end of the tunnel is not the illusion--the tunnel is the illusion and God’s love is all around us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 17.3333px; vertical-align: baseline;">I bear testimony of God’s love for us, I am so grateful for my Savior, for the strength and comfort He provides. May we all strive to more fully utilize the atonement to overcome our human frailties, to have the eyes to see His hand in our lives and ears to hear His voice beckoning to each us is my prayer.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-54076556780950228832015-11-06T20:18:00.002-08:002015-11-06T20:18:41.529-08:00Sing, Sing a Song, Sing it Loud, Sing it Long.Alright, tonight I was singing songs to to the girls at bedtime. For the most part singing the kids to bed has become more of a task than something I do for enjoyment, or as auto-correct interprets... French ointment. Occasionally though I find myself getting a little more into it. I wouldn't go as far as saying it's dad style when he really fluctuates his voice and sings loudly with gusto. I mean more like thinking about specific people in our family or tender memories that just pop up into my head. Sometimes when I start singing the songs that we always used to sing together it totally makes me emotional. Which I hate being emotional. Tonight I was singing that Beatles song, "Who knows how long I've loved you?", "Leaving on a jet plane", "Dream a little dream". I couldn't even get through leaving on a jet plane. I think my trying not to cry ended up keeping the kids awake more then it helped putting anybody to sleep. I'm so grateful that we have those memories though there is one night that comes into mind particularly when we were in the car really late at night. I can't remember where we were going. We were singing edelweiss in a round or whatever and then we got done singing Will was like uh, hmmm, uh that was pretty good. We were all thinking we were pretty freaking amazing. Isn't it crazy the things you remember? Listening to grandpa and dad singing on road trips together. This makes me want to go on a road trip really bad! It makes me miss being a kid. I hope I give my kids opportunities to have those kinds of experiences. Those solid kinds of memories. It's just the good stuff. I know I am really lucky. No one else in the world has a family like ours. For me, our family is just as good as it gets.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-83713830089545660862015-09-22T11:56:00.001-07:002015-09-22T11:56:47.225-07:00Wake UpIf you had to live the last year of your life over again, what would you do differently?<br />
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Is there something you wish you had done? Do it now.<br />
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Is there something you regret. Stop doing that thing.<br />
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love you both.Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-53767496383118333252015-02-17T15:08:00.001-08:002015-02-17T15:08:38.771-08:00This is going to make you cry, but I have a point:<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">WELCOME TO HOLLAND</span><div>
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by </div>
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Emily Perl Kingsley</div>
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I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......<br />
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When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.<br />
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."<br />
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."<br />
<br />
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.<br />
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.<br />
<br />
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.<br />
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.<br />
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But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."<br />
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And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.<br />
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But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.<br />
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A friend sent this to me last week and I thought it was great, it has a re-orienting effect on me when I read it. I think just about any parent, or person really, can relate to this. I think I spend a lot of time numbed and tired with spasms of energy and anger. And honestly I'm not sure if there is a resolution that I should come to, like in the poem it talks about "the loss," but what exactly IS the loss? What will Maddie be like? What opportunities will she have? Literally--no one knows. Today Maddie has been on one, I don't think she feels very good. All say she has been grunting and crying at me and she kept slapping her face and her head--no matter what I did I couldn't get her to stop and in this one moment I grabbed her hand and I wanted to squeeze it so hard--I was so angry at her little hand--not <i>her</i>, her hand. In this world where I want to blame someone for everything from cupboards left open to stupid thing said--who do I blame for this? Autism is not my enemy when she is happy, I feel like we do a good job cooperating then. I so appreciate her quirkiness and the little strides she is making, her routines...but when she is unhappy--I feel like Autism builds a maliscious invisible wall around her and I'm unable to help her, unable to make it better and unable to find someone to blame...all the while Autism keeps slapping her face.<br />
<br />
In short we had a really bad morning. The waitress brought her a grilled cheese sandwhich with white cheese! Who does that? Who makes a grilled cheese sandwhich with white cheese? Now I DEFINITELY have someone to blame for that. But you know, life moves on and tomorrow is a new day.<br />
<br />
Yes yes...many tomorrows have come and gone since I wrote the above post! Maybe it's a tad depressed sounding but it's also real for me so I'm posting it anyway. I absolutely do not want anyone to feel bad for me or pity me, but I do long to be understood. Truly understood...then again, don't we all? Miss you guys to pieces and pieces and pieces.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-36564972460239820812015-01-10T21:39:00.001-08:002015-01-10T22:46:57.021-08:00A new year, the same old me....Written before Christmas:<div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I know what your thinking. I have really screwed the pooch on the whole blog thing! I don't know how long it's been, I just know it's been too long. </span><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">Well it's freaking Christmas. I love this holiday. I love the traditions I grew up with as well as the traditions Troy and I have begun within our own family. It's been fun to experiment and try out new traditions too. For instance, dad did not put on his child size Christmas tree socks over his thick tree trunk legs and sing "Oh banzai bush...", nor did we carol down the street or watch Will give Heidi a white wash. Although they are all truly excellent memories and traditions, it's fun to start new ones. We went to our cousin Emily's live nativity on Christmas Eve and I loved it. I thought it was totally sweet and tender yet short and imperfect. Macy wanted to be a star along with Jax and Jaders. I just love holidays, I love the hussle but I really love the imperfect moments that just make it so amazing. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">A few weeks later (today):</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">I hate starting a new year! I hate how everyone's is on a war path to "a happier healthier you". I want to be thin, I want to budget and save, I want to be cheery but I just don't want to start right now. It's too much. It's just too much. I try to get through the day without going crazy. I don't want to have to "stop drinking soda" or "spending money" or even "no fast food I'll just have a piece of lettuce, hold the dressing". I hate it all. I'm an overweight mom. It's the way it is right now. I will make my own changes on my own time. I don't need anyone to recruit me to their water aerobics class or join a Zumba class. I'm good. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">To top it all off we woke up yesterday morning. The kids were in bed with us and we were laughing about something then Macy says "hey mom, did you know when your walking in front of me your butt (this is where she motions in a large circle referencing my massive rear end) jiggles! Did you know that?" Hmmmm......... Well......... Hmmmm...... I guess I kind of assumed it did but thanks for confirming my suspicion!</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">Then this morning we were in bed and the kids are in bed too of course. Avery wraps her hands around my neck. I smiled at her. Our eyes locked. We were having a moment. Then Avery says "your breath smells like mayonnaise." Seriously?!? Mayonnaise? That's possibly the grossest thing I have ever heard! IS there anything worse that Mayo breath? I don't think so. It seems a little harsh! Considering how disgusting I find mayo. Yes, I think it was quite harsh. Kids keep you humble. That's for damn sure.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);">A few photos from the live nativity:</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdCf37aMNgEWpSmxMiJS7NG_DIb68QdxjvRth-5prLCTFWFMhKRKp43v2SzPp1El7zRidjqoe1MSAnthrs6VkkVrCjH6AuVhk2TYmXesd5yuOW-IzwyZgUJ0bXgbpJSokHLjTQSZ1D7cY/s640/blogger-image-951178784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdCf37aMNgEWpSmxMiJS7NG_DIb68QdxjvRth-5prLCTFWFMhKRKp43v2SzPp1El7zRidjqoe1MSAnthrs6VkkVrCjH6AuVhk2TYmXesd5yuOW-IzwyZgUJ0bXgbpJSokHLjTQSZ1D7cY/s640/blogger-image-951178784.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); 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font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmnv0Bx-hywEwT3oPvtM7uqjYp32RQ8wrwHEdyJUYjz8vUp4WfJKtt52aI93C4KyJm6fJCAzdAGD41cCTEbxnnpQVpWAgaXyZyy5IkcwGkGZDZfRbmR3wO5NTm7ePOnP1TSPY_1S3tZkn/s640/blogger-image-953169754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmnv0Bx-hywEwT3oPvtM7uqjYp32RQ8wrwHEdyJUYjz8vUp4WfJKtt52aI93C4KyJm6fJCAzdAGD41cCTEbxnnpQVpWAgaXyZyy5IkcwGkGZDZfRbmR3wO5NTm7ePOnP1TSPY_1S3tZkn/s640/blogger-image-953169754.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-14220484859080728492015-01-10T12:41:00.002-08:002015-01-10T13:08:28.997-08:00Cleansing, Pity, "the Blues," "the Bloat" and other useful conversation stoppers.First I miss you both a lot. It ain't the holidays without you. <br />
<br />
<br />
I have some thoughts and questions, and the only way to start is to start.<br />
<br />
I might be a selfish person. I sort of don't know what to do about this. Is it something I can fix? I generally do not like people and so for me to say "do something nice for someone," as a way to combat this selfishness, is not realistic. I just won't. And then I will get angry, resentful , guilty and proceed to feel bad about myself. Are there some nice doable things to help me get started? Like, I now always take my shopping cart back to the cart holder parking lot thing. That is a nice thing, right? Technically it is just obeying rules, although I like to think it helps the guy with a limp who's job it is to gather them up. My point is that that is my level. Probably beginner/novice level. Any thoughts? <br />
<br />
I have to talk about my health status probably at least 3-5 times a day. Based on something that was said to me a couple of days ago about some people being a pity vortex, :) I have done some self reflecting and am a little horrified by my neediness in this area. I have to talk about my health, and all I need is for someone to say "oh, I'm sorry, that stinks." That is all, I can then get on with my day. I have to talk about my health, I have to tinker, I have to obsess. What would happen if you kept drinking water and drinking water an drinking water, but never peeed? well that is what is feels like to not talk about my health.<br />
There is a story by Tolstoy- about this old guy who is dying and in pain, and how no one shows him sympathy or empathy the "right" way, meaning the way he WANTS to be pitied. (He wants to be treated like a little sick child, but since he is old no one treats him like that) so he is sad boo-hoo. My next question is Do we all want the same kind kind of pity? We definitely need to get sympathy the way we find it personally acceptable, right? How do we administer sympathy the right way to different people? Or is sympathy or pity obnoxious and just the same as looking down on people? And finally, it is so gross to NEED pity. But I do. I NEED I NEED I NEED. help.<br />
<br />
THe last few days I have been SO tired. More tired than it is possible to describe. There is not enough caffeine in the world is what I am saying. This happens every couple of months and isn't cycle related or sleep or sick related...it is just weird. Sometimes when this happens, I am mean. For me Tired is Anger and is also probably depression. Any Thoughts??<br />
<br />
Gluten free<br />
<br />
Do I have a wheat problem or just a idiot problem? SO I got allergy tested. And guess what? I am totally not allergic to any foods.<br />
So then I eat wheat and it gives me the runs and hurts my belly. I don't get it. Also not eating wheat has been not a big deal EXCEPT when I am with others that are not my family.<br />
I hate being inconvenient, and it has made me realize how much pressure there is to be, to eat, to behave a certain way because that is what others or what we imagine others to want us to do/be. I am the "easy going non-demanding person, and I feel like people actually hate it more when I am demanding, because I am not supposed to be. knowhadimean?<br />
<br />
<br />
a cleanse<br />
<br />
I am going to try this Marfa Stewfart detox thing in order to figure me out<br />
a. it may answer nothing<br />
b. but i am curious<br />
c. i want to lose a few pownds<br />
but<br />
e. it might make me mad<br />
f. it might, and I quote, result in something called "the bloat" but just for a little while<br />
<br />
Anyone want to do it too?? It is for 21 days. I suspect it is one of those things that might be fun/ less terrible to do with other people.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have totally changed around almost all the rooms in the house and this makes me feel good.<br />
<br />
Are repetitive behaviors indicative of a very large thing I am trying to avoid? <br />
<br />
<br />
so there. Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-32321252672080582362014-11-18T19:46:00.000-08:002014-11-18T19:55:26.891-08:00Just NuthinOh man. You know how you want to write, and you know if you think about it really hard then an idea will come, but then nothing comes, and so you think, well, if I just go about and do my thing, the ideas will come like lightening bolts into my brains, but they don't. Days pass and the ideas just don't come? <br />
<br />
I mean sometimes ideas do just **magically* come. But maybe it is just so much about what comes out when you are there working on it.<br />
<br />
So saying that up there, ⬆︎ makes me think of this other thing. I was talking to a friend who was telling me about this Puritan doctrine called the "Prepared Heart."And Honestly I was trying so hard to look like I was listening to what she was saying, that I pretty much missed what she was saying, BUT I really love the words having a "prepared heart," and that has stuck with me.<br />
<br />
(ps I do know that it is scripture- I am not that far gone :))<br />
<br />
So that ☝︎☝︎☝︎☝︎ brings me to this other thing which was an article I was reading in Mom's hooky Mother Earth mag (which I secretly love) about Mindfulness. I enjoyed the read right up until the point that it started talking about yoga and shwarma. And then apparently I was done in the bathroom.<br />
<br />
⇧ That right there sort of got me to listen to a book by a journalist about mindfulness. The book was mostly terrible, and the guy who wrote seems like a class A jerk, no offense, but it did teach me that if a guy, who seemed like the most obnoxious egocentric guy you ever didn't know because he thought he was so much better than you, could try meditation and get some insight and benefit from it, than maybe I could too.<br />
<br />
Medicinal Meditation Mediation.<br />
<br />
All these thoughts ↖︎↑⤴︎ have been brewing and I have been realizing just how focused I have always been on producing. All my quiet thoughts have been focused on needs or wants. I have what could be described as anxiety. It is like there is a Giant BAll of YARN and I have to KEEP KNITTING AND KNITTING AND KNITTING AND KNITTING...<br />
<br />
I also know this is true because I have a giant ball of yarn and cannot stop knitting it.<br />
<br />
Repetitive Productive tasks sooth me because I feel that they can control the unknown that is going to happen to me and by extention my kids. By far my main objection to meditation is "who has the time for that anyway", which stresses me out. <br />
<br />
BUT what if I can just accept that I can't control any of it? What if taking time to just sit with my eyes closed and not think about anything but my toe knuckles is the answer? Maybe all the churning anxiety is a weird product of itself that can dissipate if I just let go of the balloon.<br />
Is that the answer to being in the moment? <br />
<br />
I have a great life, but what is the point of that if I am not appreciating it every second, or at least sometimes.<br />
<br />
ah geez. i don't know anything from a hill of beans. isn't it funny how these thoughts come and sit and stew and try to be friends.<br />
<br />
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<br />Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-87160973582964387002014-10-30T11:17:00.003-07:002014-11-03T20:06:38.438-08:00Data CollectionIn an effort to understand what motivates Maddie and to know if we are making progress in certain goals we (her therapists and me) "track data" constantly. How did she sleep, eat, poop? What percentage of times does she look at me when I say her name? How often does she look for my attention? What happened just before this tantrum that might have caused it? Etc. The data, oh the data. It is interesting, though, the conclusions that you derive from the data vs. what my perspective is on the situation. Through this data collection we have come to understand all kinds of patterns that I would never have noticed on my own. It has also made me doubt my own perceptions, but kind of in a good way. It's easy to become such a tyrant as a parent, assuming you understand what life is like from their perspective, that you know who they are (or who they should be) and that you know the best way to handle any situation. And I think a lot of the time we do have the right instincts but I think having a gentle dose of wariness is healthy--and not being offended if your child is fundamentally different than you are--is even more so.<br />
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Through this data collection I've learned that Maddie is not nearly as prone to constipation as I thought (she's actually quite regular FYI :), she loves <i>circular</i> shaped things, she eats when she's bored (don't we all) and that though her tantrums may begin because of frustration--once she starts hitting herself it is primarily to get attention. There's plenty more to add to the list, but I just think it's so interesting what is revealed beyond our own fuzzy observations. I knew she hit herself out of frustration--but I didn't see that there was another reason. I knew she loved slinky's and bracelets and coins--but I didn't put together the circular part. I thought she had a mammoth appetite-- and while she can still pound some serious food, there are plenty of times she comes around the kitchen because she's under-stimulated. Maybe it's just me--because although I consider myself smart, I can also be a total airhead (like how Teddy gets great reading comprehension scores if he remembers to take the tests)</div>
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As part of Maddie's therapy, they are actually doing some training with me. Phase 1 is tracking me making "attending" statements to Maddie for 5 minutes. Attending statements are just observations--not requests or demands or suggestions. It's just me sitting in the background of her play making comments like "you put the horse in the barn," "you are holding a brown horse." You would NOT want to say "put the horse over here," or "what does the horsey say?". I'm just a narrator. I am not supposed to interfere, guide or play with her unless she invites me. This is <i>surprisingly</i> hard to do. And this is kind of what I'm talking about with the parenting thing--you do a lot of teaching by suggesting, guiding, and requesting your children to do things...so much so, that it's surprisingly hard to just <i>be</i> with them no strings attached.<br />
<br />
I know I mentioned this book I've been reading called <i>The Child Whisperer</i>. It's has some pretty interesting insights, I'm not sure if I buy all of her energy flow stuff, and I think she could have condensed the book somewhat--but anyway. She categorizes children (and all people) into different types. I heard about this book from a girl who posted on Instagram that she never thought she would understand her daughter and that this book had changed their relationship. I bought the book with Elsie specifically in mind. And I have to say it's been very eye-opening. Her theory is that every time you fight against your child's true you actually increase the tendency for the very problem you want to avoid. This book has helped me see ways that she and I are different and even ways we are the same. And for the areas where we are different--she's helped me see the value in those attributes that Elsie has that I quite frankly just didn't get! And now that I have this different perspective I see things in Elise that I didn't before, how much she wants others to be happy and how fun-loving she is. W<br />
<br />
It's just weird to have things made plain before you that you feel like you should have seen--kind of a 6th sense 'I see dead people' sort of feeling. I'll have you know I also have an app on my phone that tracks my sleeping patterns and I've learned that I sleep SOOO much better if I wear socks (yes, grandpa thi-thi) and if I go to sleep between 9 and 10. Its not just the amount of time, the quality of my sleep is better too, regardless of when I wake up. Weird, huh? It's weirdly empowering though to analyze this data and these personality types. At the same time that these studies emphasize how much I'm not able to just organically understand the world and/or the people around me and/or my own daughters--deep down I already knew that. I feel like existing without that pretense and putting forth some effort is ironically very freeing. It doesn't seem like it should be, but it is. Like living on a budget, or exercising, or getting up early--it's not that I really <i>enjoy </i>it--but actually doing it--you have to admit everything goes better and feels better when you do.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-58413267106461070252014-10-21T09:51:00.001-07:002014-10-21T22:09:17.341-07:00Within the last week...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">W</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">ell honestly the very thought of writing anything makes me tired! I'm so bored even thinking about writing anything about myself! </span><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm obsessed with the weather right now. The trees are rocking my world. Sweatshirts, boots, leggings and cool weather! "Amaze"! (As Katie jo would say) I am going to bore you with some pictures from my favorite spot lately. It just happens to be the kids fav too. I feel like I am discovering Utah for the first time. Everything is so beautiful and breathtaking! Like the clouds and the colors of the mountains it's just hypnotizing. </span></span><br />
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Macy was complaining about her tooth hurting so we took her in for a check up... Her first dentist appointment ever and she is four years old. Mother of the year!! A few hours later she was in surgery getting four baby root canals and a cavity fixed! I was prepared to take a doped up sleeping Macy home, like all the other kids that checked out during our wait. Instead I got Macy on freakin' roids or something. She was all hulked out! Screaming so freaking loud, irate, kicking, hitting and yes I was thoroughly traumatized! Talk about Anger! She was crazy! You know it's bad when the dentist says "Ahhh, this can be normal?" Really? The whole way home people were staring at us. It was really fun.</div>
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So besides forcing gross medicine on my kids, surgery on Macy's mouth, potty training, Avery's diaper rash, the nurse accidentally giving Avery the wrong immunization, temper tantrums, my freaking UTI that won't go away, trying to finish getting moved in, Avery's pink eye, and trying to catch a flying squirrel in the house this morning, not a whole lot is going on… Things are great and super easy. In all seriousness though things are good. They really are I am just trying to justify not posting for a while.</div>
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The other day we went to Jakers pumpkin patch. It was really fun! We have the best family ever!</div>
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Oh…. and yes I do want your sandals, I was going to say shoes but I wanted to specify that I do not want your jacked up boots. Just the sandals :)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-33956501854713206702014-10-07T10:51:00.002-07:002014-10-07T17:42:32.136-07:00and ACTION! bonus blog + boot DIYJust to example how much I get what you are saying, Heidi (see previous <a href="http://thebarrettbroads.blogspot.com/2014/10/simplicity-and-action.html" target="_blank">post</a>):<br />
<br />
I have a great many things to do right now. Things that you might say are weighing on me. Have been for the last few days. Alex was out of town, I had a 2 day long migraine are two things that have been in my way, but really... today I haven't had much excuse.<br />
<br />
Evan is sick downstairs and wanted some chicken noodle soup and scones earlier, just to add one more to the load of nobler acts that I could have/should have been doing. House is a pit, we have no food in our house, I have work I really need to do, plus various social things that I have been avoiding.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I like to chop things with scissors, which sounds creepier than it is.<br />
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don't do it</div>
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um i think i just ruined a really nice pair of boots.</div>
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also I think I just did this blog entry as a way to procrastinate further. And feel good about it.<br />
Heidi, you nailed it. <br />
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Katie, before I destroy any other shoes :) do you maybe want those sandals you tried on earlier this summer? Do you remember?<br />
<br />Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-62471935280577362822014-10-06T20:38:00.001-07:002014-10-06T20:38:03.381-07:00Simplicity and ActionI recently received a text from a friend that explained why she hadn't returned my phone call...she'd had a pretty dramatic run of bad luck. It was a pretty emotional text and my reaction was heartfelt--so much so that simply responding by text didn't seem enough...no, no. This woman needed a phone call, no..no..cookies! She needed cookies...after thinking about it a minute it seemed like dinner AND cookies would be even better. Something delicious and brilliant, delivered in a super cute basket too..yep, that would be the best way to respond. Along with a beautifully written, well thought out card. And some flowers.<br />
In short, she got no response from me-no text, no call, no meal..no nothing. Having myself been the beneficiary of many acts of kindness, I have wondered how and why this happens to me. It happens in many different forms...constantly. This cunning form of procrastination has infiltrated my life and my personality. It tricks me because as I add more and more scaffolding to the idea--it gives me the illusion that I'm accomplishing something...when in reality I'm just setting myself up for less and less opportunities to accomplish anything. The cycle seems to occur as follows: I am presented with a need or call to action, I respond by way over complicating it or assuming this task will be 100 times easier to accomplish at another time... And then..big fat nothing. You could even argue I entertain this exact cycle with this blog! I remember I need to do it but decide that tomorrow I will be much more creative. When in reality these finished products that I either desire to do or at least complete don't fall like manna from heaven--and the ideas don't get substantially better by procrastinating--they simply just need to be done.<br />
Netflix will always be there tomorrow, and will be much more enjoyable without the wet blanket of self-loathing.<br />
I'm a little tired tonight. I love you guys.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-82044068623303516462014-09-26T07:36:00.000-07:002014-09-26T07:36:41.964-07:00PerfectionToday I woke up with the thought, "Today I am going to be a good person."<br />
<br />
I think you might already see where this is going. <br />
<br />
I muscled past kids not getting out of bed and bickering with each other, with the perfect if not very sincere note of "now now children do not fight, look at the beautiful day la la." I navigated a mine field of spilt milk and people being late and running out of milk and bread. I noticed how Alex had done the dishes. I stepped outside and the garbage, which we had been gathering the night before had not been put out, so it had not been collected. So I flipped out.<br />
<br />
It wasn't anybodies fault really. I just didn't know what to do. Alex suggested that I take it to a neighborhood that hadn't had the garbage picked up and then I really lost it. So he ended up taking the kids to school and putting out the garbage in a different neighborhood.<br />
<br />
I was going to be a good person today. It just hasn't really gone according to my plan so far.<br />
<br />
I have been nasty sick this week, so I have less than my usual reserves of grace, confidence and human kindness. The mornings have been rough. The crappy thing is though, that I have been trying. What people never see is that when you are trying the hardest to just be a decent person it sometimes looks the very worst on the outside. It is easy to be nice when everything is fine.<br />
<br />
I don't do well with a change of plan. I can't actually do that. It is
not in my programming. Like taking garbage to another neighborhood is just full of all these unknowns. Where? People might see me, or think I am some kid of crazy loser who can't figure out the way the rules are supposed to work. It is actually hard to explain what is so scary about this, it just IS.<br />
<br />
People make such a freaking big deal of "thinking
outside the box." What is so wrong with thinking inside the box? It is
quite cozy and I am very good at that. <br />
<br />
I almost always have a perfect image in my mind of a situation. For example:<br />
<br />
A mother making muffins for her children, perfectly dressed, with sunlight streaming in on a clean and well-designed dining room.<br />
<br />
I will send my mother a get-well package for her post-surgery, full of hand written letters and licorice nibs and thoughtful pressies all wrapped in cute tissues and papers.<br />
<br />
A house that is 100% clean, not one hair out of place, complete with cute pillows and colorful wood- not-plastic toys that are perfectly arranged on a shelf in a an aesthetically pleasing way.<br />
<br />
These images might just be a way to torture myself, because they are never the reality. I compare myself to them all the time. Once I imagine the way things should be in any situation, I feel like it really has to be that way. NO deviation!<br />
<br />
The only devaition is putting stricter more unattainable demands on it. In fact if I come close to attaining a goal, I will sometimes throw on a "go the extra mile," just to make sure the perfect vision stays well out of reach and can stay feeling inadequate. Shooting myself in the foot.<br />
<br />
So here it is. The question I am aiming at: What is perfection?<br />
<br />
Ok, right, it is something that exists without fault. And I think it is safe to say that in one way or another, we all want it. Some people are straight up in their pursuit. Some try to drown it or their failure at it with different addictions. Even if you are judgmental of other's pursuit of perfection, you are still at heart striving for it by setting yourself apart and saying "I am more perfect because I am not trying to be perfect".<br />
<br />
All those images that I have in my head, those perfect images, are not moving. They are frozen. Like golden statues. I think I personally equate perfection with control, like having control of people and situations. They are one moment in time that I can decorate and add on to and speak all the voices like Barbies in a DREAM HOUSE. <br />
<br />
Here is the flip side:<br />
<br />
You know that I love a museum. And museum's are full of these so-called frozen moments. But, when I am standing in front of a painting or a statue, it is the imperfections that make it interesting. It is the curious "why did they do that?" or "why use that color? or put that brush stroke in?" It is the flaws that speak and tell stories. Perfection says nothing, because it is boring. It is the messy and the broken that I go to see. <br />
<br />
Crap is going to happen that I can't control. I am going to have to clean it up. And keep on trucking. <br />
<br />
That is what I have to bring to the table today. No hot muffins- I can't eat wheat anyway. Just my little slice of heavenly angst.<br />
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<br />Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-20524902535821076412014-09-20T15:43:00.001-07:002014-09-20T15:45:38.962-07:00Change is good<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I remember mom telling me that before they left on their mission about seven years ago or so. I was struggling so much with change in my life at that time that I actually put the phrase in vinyl lettering and sealed it to my wall. Obviously, a lot of time has past since then. The phrase still pops up in my head from time to time. It helps me feel strong, brave, that I can look straight ahead and deal with the change.</span><br><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Recently it feels like a lot of change has happened. We downsized, we moved in with my parents, Macy started preschool on a whim, Troy's going to finish up school, implementing a budget and the hardest of all, we gave up our beloved Sadie Dog. It was one of the hardest decisions we have ever made. It still feels like I got punched in the gut whenever I think about it. The kids talk about her daily. We made the right decision I know, but it doesn't mean it's not hard. "Change is good" I have to keep telling myself. It might not be good right away but it will work out for the best. I have flashbacks of her as a puppy. Sleeping with me in my bed. Teaching her tricks which never really worked. In her mind "Shake" meant try to hit you owner in the face by really exaggerating lifting your arm and then jab... Oh and it helps if you have dagger claws. The worst and best is thinking about having my miscarriages. She would lay on my feet in the bathroom as I sat on the toily and sobbed and sobbed. The pain was emotional and physical. She knew I was sad and she took care of me, loved me. Laying her head on my knee. She was my baby before I could have babies. Sadie is a good girl and now she gets to bless another family with her quirkiness. Thank you Heavenly Father for letting us have the perfect dog for our family.</span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Please watch over her and help her to be loved and happy. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04QGmAyKva4c1j1_0LQ34u0tM3aAOHASeHuurdfaewsSQwI_fH5rHjN5ZIXdiQJjL0GRwWSTJypiwFW98-SgowOsuQHj9Gh8-bVXXi0Ml7bqVBoH5ZVBBnxUSH6VWUtln9nCmtMAUUfgG/s640/blogger-image-1440954423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04QGmAyKva4c1j1_0LQ34u0tM3aAOHASeHuurdfaewsSQwI_fH5rHjN5ZIXdiQJjL0GRwWSTJypiwFW98-SgowOsuQHj9Gh8-bVXXi0Ml7bqVBoH5ZVBBnxUSH6VWUtln9nCmtMAUUfgG/s640/blogger-image-1440954423.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div>Now onto the never ending saga of motherhood. This week I feel like we hit a new high and an all new low. It's just amazing to me how much the emotions can range within a day! I feel like things are great like the kids are doing great we're all happy I couldn't ask for anything better. Macy is thriving in school! She loves it and looks forward to seeing everyone and learning. It's just awesome! I have so much fun with Avery. Having one on one time is really amazing! We do nails, work on projects and run errands. To contrast those great feelings, within a split second the kids are yelling, biting, chasing, hitting and just total chaos. I think "what in the hell am I doing?" "Why am I a mom?" "My kids deserve someone so much better than me someone whose more patient or more soft-spoken." I feel guilty for feeling that way because I know I shouldn't but I hate feeling like a failure whenever I am in a "mood". I know I can be hard on myself, I guess we all are. </div><div>I've been really trying to figure out where these feelings are coming from. I have decided that it's the contrast from trying so hard and so long to have kids and not being able to. To my life now with two little girls that are so lively and full of energy and the change is just drastic! I can't even count how many times I prayed to heavenly father that I would be or try to be the best mom that I could every day. Most the time I feel like that's true. I remember promising heavenly father that I would never be mad never be frustrated with my kids. Realistically that's not going to happen. I can't beat myself up about it. "Each day is new with no mistakes in it." (Anne of Green Gables keepin' it real)</div><div><br></div><div><p uri="/general-conference/2003/10/to-the-women-of-the-church.p16" class="" id="p16" style="margin: 0px 0px 20px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-style: italic;">President Hinckley says it perfectly here... "To the woman of the church, Many of you think you are failures. You feel you cannot do well, that with all of your effort it is not sufficient.</span></p><p uri="/general-conference/2003/10/to-the-women-of-the-church.p17" class="" id="p17" style="margin: 0px 0px 20px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We all feel that way. I feel that way as I speak to you tonight. I long for, I pray for the power and the capacity to lift you, to inspire you, to thank you, to praise you, and to bring a measure of gladness into your hearts.</span></p><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We all worry about our performance. We all wish we could do better. But unfortunately we do not realize, we do not often see the results that come of what we do. </span><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">To you young women with small children, yours is a tremendous challenge. So often there is not enough money. You must scrimp and save. You must be wise and careful in your expenditures. You must be strong and bold and brave and march forward with gladness in your eye and love in your heart. How blessed you are, my dear young mothers. You have children who will be yours forever. I hope that you have been sealed in the house of the Lord and that your family will be an everlasting family in the kingdom of our Father.</span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Now, my dear sisters, that is the way with you. You are doing the best you can, and that best results in good to yourself and to others. Do not nag yourself with a sense of failure. Get on your knees and ask for the blessings of the Lord; then stand on your feet and do what you are asked to do. Then leave the matter in the hands of the Lord. You will discover that you have accomplished something beyond price."</span></div></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">--GORDON B. HINCKLEY</span></div><div><br></div><div>So anyway life is good. It sup and down and all over the place but it's good. I'm doing what I feel like I should be doing. It's a good life.</div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>Sent from my iPhone</span></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-31274915633435171222014-09-15T23:01:00.001-07:002014-09-15T23:12:57.594-07:00Meal planning, dead bunnies, and the longest, most boring story you've ever heardSo there is this part in Bridget Jones' Diary where she is making dinner for company and as she's working away she starts to have 'a sneaking suspicion she's somewhat of a genius in the kitchen"--so she's feeling good, basically. This is about 20 minutes before her soup turns blue. Since school has started I have turned into some sort of machine--cranking out lists, budget plans, schedules. It feels really good, especially surrounded by the crisp new school supplies...but I'm thinking maybe check back with me in 2 weeks when I'm sitting on the kitchen floor in a pile of spilled Mac n cheese with a wad of gum in my hair. I'm feeling super optimistic about the future, can't you tell? I have to say meal planning has always seemed so cumbersome and more often than not a total waste of time and money...I've always hated it until I realized meal planning has everything to do with your schedule, the food is almost beside then point. Anyway it feels good to be finally be figuring this crap out.<br />
<br />
We have had a pretty regular babysitter over the last few years, her name is Brianna. The kids adore her and anyway she broke up with her boyfriend about a month ago. As a result of this breakup she was given back her pet bunny, he just dropped it off on her porch one day. She told me about it one night after she watched her kids.."I guess I'm going to take it to a shelter because my dad says 'NO MORE PETS." "Oh.." I said. Take a wild guess what I said next. So 3 days later Nugget came to live with us. 41 hours later he was dead. So...bunnies apparently are like super super sensitive to heat and we essentially cooked him to death in our backyard. It was horrifying, in case you are wondering, to say "come on Maddie! Let's go see the bunny!!..." Only to find Nugget sprawled out--dead as a doornail. I was just trying to buy some time for her grilled cheese sandwich to cool down. Anyhow, we have bunny blood on our hands and I could NOT explain another death to our kids so now my secret has become yours. For your information, Nugget had a brother and sister who were adopted by a farmer who just so happens to live by the Sequoia National Forest. When this farmer found out that Nugget was looking for a new home he got in touch with us, and we just couldn't say no. I've always found that a lot of details can make-up a weak lie stronger. The good news is, though, and I suppose "good" is a relative and context-sensitive term here, that we did get another bunny who was originally named "Angel" by Elsie who was then promptly overruled by Teddy and renamed "Mystery". The don't know it, of course, but they are both correct.<br />
<br />
My kids are changing so quickly it's crazy. Overnight Teddy, who is still handsome and charming and wonderful, has reached the stage where he tells and re-tells the most overly-detailed, long and horrifically boring stories you have ever heard in your whole dang life. He repeats punch-lines like 15 times at least. He's that kid, can you believe it?? So crazy. It more than balances out though..I use the list of family songs that Katie posted to let the kids to choose a song for bedtime. They both sleep in Elsie's queen bed together, so I squeeze right in the middle. Tonight Teddy chose 'Here comes the sun," they weren't sure they knew the song until I started singing it and then Elsie said, "Hey, I know this song.." And Teddy sang the last verse with me. He's never chipped in on any song before ever....they don't really know who the Beatles are but if they can respond like that to my favorite song--there's a good chance they know, despite all the other noise, that they are my favorite little people. It's kind of a relief, you know?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-44752105890223055982014-08-25T18:08:00.000-07:002014-08-29T11:39:40.345-07:0010,000 miles<span id="goog_1152280821"></span><span id="goog_1152280822"></span>10,000 miles...<br />
...will give you such a crick in the neck.<br />
<br />
(awww poor Robin Williams)<br />
<br />
First of all, I need to get the guilt out of the way. I know you all know me and that you know that I will feel more comfortable if I can just say sorry. Sorry I took so long to write this AND sorry that I kept saying that I was going to do it tomorrow. Sometimes I wonder if I have just a little Bernie Madoff con-man in me. By which I mean, you always hear about people like Bernie doing what they do only because they want to please people so bad that they are willing to lie to people including themselves to please everyone. OK that is a little harsh, but I really thought for three weeks that I was going to do the blog tomorrow, every day. Let me be clear that I love the blog and it wasn't a chore I was avoiding, there was just so much going on I just didn't have time. So, the kids went back to school today, and I miss them SO much, I do, but I felt like today was the first time I have had a moment to think in about forever.<br />
<br />
side note: I took Juniper school clothes shopping, just the two of
us, which was so fun. We talked about what kind of style she liked and,
this just tickles me, but she likes "French style" like what mimes wear.
So we went with it and she picked out a couple of black and white
outfits. I just never saw it coming. Juniper + french mime. shrug? They are so funny, kids, with they're ideas about stuff.<br />
<br />
So here is a a little update since I saw you all last:<br />
<br />
We went to Yellowstone, the Black Hills of South Dakota (awww poor Rocky), the Badlands, Michigan and staying with Teri during which we went to Chicago and I had Huevos Rancheros that might have changed my life, Michigan again -this time at Lake Michigan with old Michigan friends , back to Peter and Teri's where they gave me a ukulele that might have changed my life and that I played in the car all the way back home to Pennsylvania. We got back a week ago, and I have been sort of insane since then.<br />
<br />
At first I was too overwhelmed to even unpack. There isn't really anything worse than leaving that too long, but I guess I just needed to process the last two months. Finally I picked up my boot straps and got to a cleaning and purging rampage that hasn't really finished yet. I guess the only thing I can figure is that it felt like we had downsized our possesions to a minivan size for 2 months and it honestly doesn't feel like we need more than that. Really, I can hardly even keep track of that amount. So when I walked in the house the STUFF kind of overwhelmed me. The CLUTTER. holy crap.<br />
<br />
At the same time I am at war in my head with all of that plus the idea that I want a mansion. I even love that word. A huge beautiful house with a zillion rooms perfectly furnished in the a kind of classy chic grown up way that makes my futon want to cry. I want to redo my kitchen and add on to the second floor and get new appliances and also everything.<br />
<br />
*sigh*<br />
<br />
I sometimes just want both things.<br />
<br />
Speaking of mileage, I am turning 40. I will probably get over it.<br />
<br />
I love my ukulele so much. And because you are my sisters and mother you must humor me. I don't know how else to force you to listen to me play since I doubt that you are going to go on a 10,000 mile car ride with me anytime soon. I am doing this just for you guys. xoxo<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">SNAKESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSŚ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As long as I am being totally disorganized about what I am writing, I will also say two other things.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">1. We went on a walk in the woods last weekend. We were in a place we have been a million times. At one point Alex and the kids wanted to climb up some rocks and I chose to go around them and meet them on the other side. As I was walking I stepped on a snake and it spooked me so I fell and landed next to another snake. There were snakes everywhere I looked. I stood there and just shook violently. I could hardly even move my legs. I checked out mentally for about 5 minutes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So these snakes are called copperheads. Whatever, they look like rattlesnakes to me. POISONOUS. They are so camouflaged that I really couldn't see them at first, but they were everywhere. everywhere. Like "Oh there are a lot of sticks around me, wait, THOSE AREN"T STICKS!!!AHHHHH!!!" Indiana Jones.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I do not scare easily. I do not cry easily. I like spiders. I don't get upset about mice, or bats or anything. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Secondly, I was useless. Thank goodness theses snakes were conserving their energy and decided not to rip my throat out. All I could do was just stand there and shake. Later with everyone, I saw another snake and before I could even register it, I had thrown my water bottle as hard as I could at the snake and started crying, (I missed the snake by about a mile), but I threw the water bottle so hard I broke it. I do not advocate the killing of snakes,(although they are delicious). That snake didn't do anything to me, so I should be grateful, right? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> So I guess I am sceered of snakes. oh, and sharks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">2. I had a dream that I was watching a soap opera in Japan and Aunt Julie was in it. She was pretty good, too. I was telling everyone that she was my mom's twin sister. no one believed me.</span><br />
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Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-61962441508069687992014-08-06T16:52:00.001-07:002014-08-06T22:59:00.949-07:00Sista's<div>So my sisters are gone now. It was really fun having them here. It's such a blessing to have them in my life! Even if they don't live here, they effect me, who I am and their opinions are important to me. I value them as sisters but at this stage of my life we are just as good of friends. I love it when they are here! I hate it when they go! Its fun to pretend for a few weeks out of the year that this is my reality. My kids have tons of cousins around daily. I have people that want to see me every day and are excited to see me. They understand (mostly) me and my fears, my emotions, the things that consume me, my worries, my hurt, my sense of humor. All of it. Our relationships differ, but they are solid. I just love and miss them. We make jokes about having a "Barrett overload" and to some people I'm sure it is. It's not to me. It's trying to live a year of conversations and experiences in a few weeks, sometimes less than that. What I am so grateful for is that they have husbands that support them, in every way. I'm sure it's not easy for them but they do it and they do it happily. </div><div>It's amazing the bond you have with a sister from the get go. I see it with my girls. Sure they battle and compete, but they also take care of each other. I just want to make an effort to record special moments, even if they are short or whatever. Macy just had her 4th birthday. The day after her bday, Macy wanted to open her frozen princess Anna from the packaging. Instantly a brawl began, who would play with it first?" Crying, scratching, hitting and yelling the girls were furious. Their screams are so high pitch that sometimes I seriously wonder if my ear drum has been ruptured. It was a little intense to say the least. Avery had a fever all morning. Randomly through out the morning she would go climb up in bed by herself, close her eyes and rest for a bit. As I was trying to rip open the packing to this doll, Avery decided once again she was too tiered and went to lay down. Avery is not one to give in so ya know she's got to be sick for her to bail. As soon as Anna was liberated from the packaging, Macy swooped her yet to be played with doll up and ran to Avery. Leaning over and whispering "Aves, you can cuddle Anna if you want. It can help you feel better." She nestled Anna in her covers right up close to Avery's hot body. "Aves.... Do you want me to cuddle you too?" Avery nodded yes. Macy laid down beside her and began singing the flower song and softly playing with her hair (The song is one my sisters and I would sing together on road trips or to help us get to sleep) Avery closed her eyes and Macy kissed her forehead. Macy eyes started welling up. "But mama, when Avery is sad it makes my heart sad". Avery grinned at Macy and then they both jumped out of bed and ran around all crazy. Reality set back in. Fighting broke out about 2 seconds later. I would like to say "and they both fell asleep and dreamt of leaping on fluffy clouds with fists full of lollipops." I know that's kind of a specific thought but ya know what I mean! Hey, they had a moment and it was sweet and tender. It happened even if it was short lived. The whole thing was like an out of body experience. My kids are young. Sometimes I wonder how bad I'm screwing them up. Then a moment like that happens and you just feel hopeful. Your kids feel empathy or love or whatever it may be. Despite all my flaws they are good sweet girls. With tender spirits and I'm grateful.</div><div>Troy and I have got a lot of big decisions to make and it's a little overwhelming if I am honest. School, work, moving, another kid, getting out of debt, where to move to?.... To name a few. I just want to do things right. I want to be supportive and I want Troy to be happy with his career and education. I want to get to a more settled, happy place. I realize that to get there we probably need to make some significant sacrifices. </div><div>I find my self dreaming and fantasizing about down sizing. Purging all the stupid stuff you just accumulate. Instead of counting sheep I count label makers, organizing bins, and other miscellaneous office supplies. So in hopes of making my dreams a reality, I have started making runs to D.I. and the dump. It feels so good! Now we just need to decide when and where to move. Ha!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-58764451654724918712014-08-04T14:49:00.001-07:002014-08-04T14:59:47.438-07:00Holding SpaceSince my last blog post we have been to Lake Powell, Provo, Irvine for a weekend to see Tori, home for 3 days and then back to Irvine for Bill's wedding. Todd and Ashton are staying with us this week and I feel SO lucky that they are here, it is a fun distraction and a great motivator to stay positive as we wrestle with a host of new realities.<br />
<br />
#1) The reality of having a new mother-in-law sleeping in Christy's bedroom, eating dinner in Christy's place at the table, living in a house filled with Christy's hand-picked decorations and furniture, using a refrigerator and pantry that still hold items that Christy purchased that haven't hit their expiration date yet. The night they got married was like an out of body experience. When I am anxious my natural instinct is to become a joker, but considering I was battling back some serious angst-ridden emotions I felt like my personality came across somewhere between hysteria and mania. I had no ability to even feel my own feelings and I felt like every person there had a different set of expectations for how I should be dealing with this situation. Dawn's friends kept saying that this marriage was "an answer to prayers," which I thought was just a fantastically insensitive thing to say. So they all thought that we should be super happy because Dawn is fabulous, assuring us that this was ok--everything would be ok. It was all very irritating and patronizing--I barely made out it out of there without snapping "that is something I should be saying to you, NOT the other way around." No guest at that wedding has to live this change in our family like we do, so they can all take their counsel and advice and rub it in their hair and shove it up their butts. Then there was a handful of people so dialed in to the strangeness of the event I felt like they expected me to be super somber and grief-stricken. And then there was Will and Audra who were furious and I felt like they needed us to share that with them too. In reality I felt a flood of emotion so intense that night, I didn't even know my own name. Everything probably will be ok, Ben and I are trying to be positive without forcing or expecting ourselves to outrun our grief. It is what it is and we will do what we can to make the best of it.<br />
<br />
#2) The reality that I am now the mother of a special needs child, and that this effects everything we do, everywhere we go, the way we parent, the way we talk, our finances, our free time and everything in between. And that this is our life for the foreseeable future--possibly forever. I've had therapists tell me they think she will be mainstreamed by kindergarten and I've had therapists tell me I need to get my head right about this because I will have to be her advocate for the rest of her life.<br />
<br />
#3) Get comfortable holding space. I think my need for things to be ok makes me cope with things at a fairly slow pace. I drag out each phase by adding a thick coat of denial--just gut out this part and then things will be ok/go back to normal. It's hard for me to absorb things in their totality, it's piece by piece, by dimension. I thought a lot about Bill getting married and about what holidays or trips would be like, I never thought about her living in Christy's house until the morning after. I've thought a lot about what Maddie needs now, but meeting a 13-year old autistic girl made it settle in on a whole new level. It's very much a 3-steps forward then 5 steps steps back sort of process that can leave me feeling very defeated and unmotivated sometimes. Brenee Brown uses this phrase "holding space" and I love this idea, it makes me think of someone protectively stretching their arms out around someone--not touching them just holding space for them. I would love to develop this more, provide this protection for myself and others. Find ways to allow for feelings of all kinds--allow and give permission for everyone to feel what they need to feel and be who they need to be. And I know providing this--again, for myself and others, would in turn inspire kinder, more amicable, more forgiving feelings because isn't most frustrations and angst born from feeling misunderstood, unheard or denied?<br />
<br />
Anyway, just some thoughts. I miss you both so much it hurts.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-86455087804601137232014-07-03T09:32:00.000-07:002014-07-03T09:42:05.226-07:00like gas through a funnel, like eggs through a hen.We made it here. But I still haven't seen either of you. I gotta say that I have ants in my pants to see both of you. Today? Today I will see one of you...I can't wait.<br />
The drive we just went on was so long. I think mentally it was twice as long as it was in real miles. Thing is: we are only half way there.<br />
<br />
I am kind of stunned by seeing the country. Alex and I definitely both have a wanderlust.( I guess it would really suck for only one of us to have it). I think we both get a charge from seeing and eating new things.<br />
<br />
I am sort of tempted to make everyone watch a slide show of the whole trip. I know that is the worst thing though, Ha! Like hearing someone else's dream. It can go on and on and on, and there is never really a clue as to when it will stop. I still want to though so:<br />
<br />
Maine omigosh beautiful ocean, rocks, lighthouses, family, attacked by a seagull, ate lobster, Emily got married, fixed the car, car broke down, fixed the car, anniversary, pretty New Hampshire, Montreal, yummy french fries, wandering around a cool city at night with kids, market salami, Michigan always familiar, see family, IOwaaaaaaaaaaaa, Nebraska, I am trying to repress memory of just how neverending this part was, bathroom breaks and subway sandwiches, bathroom breaks and subway sandwiches, bathroom breaks and subway sandwiches, bathroom breaks and subway sandwiches, Cottonwood trees, Colorado, Car over heating, Denver it felt so good to see those mountains totally listening to John Denver, Best ice cream in the country, Busted radiator, worst restroom in about 3000 miles of road across the country, Highest point elevation 11,300ft....That is realy high, Camped under the most amazing starry sky, Dinosaur Bones, Petroglyphs, Almost there, almost there, Duschene, Strawberry resevoir, Heber, Back of Timp, Provo Canyon, power station, farmer brown's, Foothill, there it is. home.<br />
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Picture that with slides<br />
<br />
I don't really want to talk about all the car trouble we had. It was just really dumb. I feel like we really lucked out and broke down in civilization rather that middle of nowheres. There were real middle of nowheres and I don't ever want to be stuck in them.<br />
<br />
I actually love Pennsylvania. I love our life there. Sometimes I just get so lonesome for the west. I don't think anywhere else will feel like home in the same way. There were a lot of miles to talk and think and look. I am lucky to have a guy like Alex. We have been married for 17 years. It hardly seems like that. I remember the morning I got married saying goodbye to the family, i just hadn't fully taken in that that was going to happen. Being the first one to leave. That was hard. I know we have all had to do that in some way, but that first step away from the car (I got dropped off) was really hard. One of those moments when what you are physically is also what you are doing mentally and emotionally. But what an amazing life I have had. I owe every little bit of it to Alex. I love him.<br />
<br />
But I love you all too. Wendy had to grow up. But she has a little bit of everyone of her family in her heart all the time.<br />
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<br />Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-55430306288515609672014-06-30T14:04:00.002-07:002014-06-30T14:04:18.559-07:00Proceed with Caution Random Thoughts Ahead<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I have put it off long enough. Totally sorry I have not been on top of the blog stuff at all. My head is so full of thoughts I don't really know where to begin or finish really. Its amazing how much writing on this blog once a week kind of keeps my thoughts straight. First off, we just got back form Park City. I had a really good time. Our family is not complete without the siblings that couldn't make it. I lost my voice and it was probably a HUGE relief to everyone because I wasn't able to talk as much as usual. Its really quite interesting to observe others and keep your thoughts to yourself. I mean you know me I tend to say what is on my mind or if I feel like something NEEDS to be said I will say it. I am kind of annoying that way. I like to speak my mind. I feel like that is why Grandma and I always had kind of an odd relationship. I didn't always agree. Most of the time I will just argue the opposite opinion because I hate when people make blanket statements about anything. This used to drive my Grandma crazy, but she also loved it about me. Its what made me different from everyone else. I never told her just what she wanted to hear I told her the truth, as I saw it.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I miss doing her hair and painting her nails. I just miss her. I know she is happier where she is now. I don't feel devastated that she is gone. I am happy for her. Although she never approved much of me or the fact that I didn't pursue photography, or art, or floral arrangements. I guess I miss her disproval? I think her disproval made me feel like I was doing something right. Always trying to go against the grain, be the opposite of everyone else. I would talk to my Grandpa for hours about my game or sports. My Grandma would chime in but don't you love to read? I would reply something like nope, I hate reading. Then continue on with my conversation. I have actually wondered why things were this way? It's not just my Grandma though, I am this way with most things. My parents, Politics, Religion, Everything and pretty much everyone. I do wonder why I am this way?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess my Grandma is on my mind because we had a Barrett Reunion the week we were in Park City. Grandpa came, with no Faye by his side. Its just weird. I am not used to it at all. I can see them holding hands everywhere they walk. Grandpa always opening the door for her. Almost waiting on her, always there to help her with whatever she needed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I have been thinking about this lady that spoke in church on
Sunday. We are taught from the time that we are very young that we should love everyone. Obviously some people are
easier to love than others. This woman mentioned that when she was younger she
volunteered at an orphanage. I want to say that it was out of the country. (Side
note, I miss big gaps in talks from potty breaks, spilling crayons everywhere
or smashing goldfish into the carpet. So I realize I might not be totally
accurate on her version. However, whether the message I walked away with was
something I needed to hear.) Anyway, back to the story, She worked in this
orphanage. She took care of these babies. Rocked them to sleep, nurtured them.
She LOVED them. “These sweet children were easy to love”. It’s the people that
are hard to love or may be more challenging that we have to work at loving. Obviously
this isn’t anything new. It just touched me. Sometimes doing the easy thing
isn’t enough. I feel like I have come upon a time in my life where I don’t
really want to do anything difficult, I guess I have allowed myself to just
stick with the easy stuff. It’s not enough. Like being a mom. I love my kids
they are easy to love. What’s hard is trying to not snap when they test me or
yell at everyone because my house is a disaster and I want to runaway. This is
the challenge. I need to push myself to do the harder stuff. Like being
happy….. all day…… no matter what. Deciding to be positive before something
crappy happens and remaining positive. Not letting other people effect my mood. Or eating whatever I
want too as opposed to teaching my kids to be healthy because eating and doing what I want is easier and more convenient. There are people in my life that make it hard. They are always testing the relationship or causing drama. I will never understand why? I guess its not my job to understand. I just need to accept things as they are and love them inspire of it. I want to be a happy and loving person. The only way I am going to get there is if I don't let other peoples attitudes and hang ups effect my everyday life and relationships. All I can do is all I can do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, I know I am officially random. I actually started writing a few different times and never got anywhere. So I combined them together. Happy reading:)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-70475842790731374892014-06-22T22:18:00.000-07:002014-06-22T22:18:28.956-07:00You can stuff your sorries in a sack misterBut really I am sorry that's it's taken me this long. It was madness getting ready for girls camp and I didn't quite realize I would have zero reception out there. It was awesome though! I can't tell you how strange it is that for these girls--I am their Diane Blackhurst. Not to sound super cheesy but even though it is a huge responsibility and time commitment--I don't know how I could face the trials I am facing in my personal life without the blessings of this calling. These girls are truly extraordinary and it's odd how much this calling has forced me to face up to and embrace my teenage self. Which has been yucky and liberating all at the same time. Because I am close with these girls and they want to know what I was like--and I have to be honest--I mean I'm at church, I can't lie for Pete's sake. And so I find myself confessing the truth about the SUPER insecure, awkward, angst-ridden teenager that I was, and it's ok. It's ok because while it's true, it's not the truth anymore, while pictures remain unforgiving (thank you Katie)--I have evolved and I still maintain a person's sense of humor is directly proportional to the length of their ugly phase, or at least it ought to be if there is any justice in this world.<br />
<br />
And so, while I am working through some teenage shame issues that have manifested--let memove directly into the parenting shame issues I am now starting to face. In the past several weeks while in the midst of Maddie breakdowns ranging from the mild to the nuclear, I have received comments and unasked for advice from people who clearly think that I am a terrible parent. On the one hand I want to explain her issues and on the other hand I want to kick them in the junk. I have always been terrified and driven by what people think, but Maddie is becoming increasingly hard to manage. And I wonder/fear what this will do to my personality over time.<br />
<br />
And speaking of weird mind games, I am in such a weird place with "my trials." If people ask me, I think I generally try to be really positive--that is how I feel a lot of the time. But then if people interpret that as a minimization of my problems--that really bothers me. Nothing is as bad as it could be, but it's still something. I'd prefer to think of myself as bravely struggling than making a bid deal out of nothing or like I have a terrible life! One of Maddie's therapists told me I had a great attitude about Maddie's diagnosis and then she said "you're probably still in shock." Oh, ok. Thanks? But then if you sympathize too much it freaks me out, like when another therapist asked me (while Maddie was wigging out)..<br />
"so she bites herself when she's upset?"<br />
Me: "yes."<br />
"And hits her head on the ground I see, does she do that a lot?"<br />
Me: "yes"<br />
"I'm sorry, that's so hard to see your child hurt herself."<br />
<br />
This made me cry for like 30 minutes, and I think about that exchange constantly. It is the emotional equivalent of pushing on a bruise and I don't know why I do it.<br />
<br />
So stream of consciousness as it is, here's my entry. Our Utah plans have changed because of all this crud we have to work out with Maddie, the regional center and the school district. We will be there July 15 and stay for a couple weeks. I wish it was sooner and longer, but this is my life now. I love you guys and seriously cannot cannot wait to be together!!!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14741513760284149330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-73315168136472232014-06-12T19:24:00.001-07:002014-06-12T20:56:38.906-07:00Train Song<br />
<br />
Whew! well it has been a little nutsy around here.It has taken me a little while to post.<br />
<br />
1. My KIDS ARE HOME AGAIN! HOORAY!<br />
I sincerely love the summer and having my kids home all day. I love that there is time again. There is time for breathing and being.<br />
<br />
but also <br />
<br />
2. We are going on a massive cross country trip in less than a week and I have been scrambling around trying to finish my work and get our house ready for people to stay in it, and roofers to roof on it, and other fun stuff.<br />
<br />
3. I also have a movie recommend - Nebraska. It was such a great movie and it reminded me quite a bit of Grandpa's family. It is funny and beautiful and poignant.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Dear author of the movie Nebraska, <br />
<br />
Next time consider a different title. Movie's with a title that is a state name sound depressing as Hell. Example: Idaho, Alabama, Nevada. Plus Nebraska is a really long boring state that never ends. Some people might hear a title like that and assume that the movie might also have those qualities.<br />
<br />
Loved the movie, though<br />
(my husband made me watch it)<br />
Sincerely,<br />
Amy<br />
<br />
<br />
4. WE ARE GOING TO BE TOGETHER SOON, SISTAS!! I canna' wait. NOW NOW NOW I say, NOW!!<br />
<br />
5. I really love that train song. I love songs about going somewhere. If they are songs about going somewhere on a train, even better!<br />
<br />
<br /><audio controls=""><source src="https://amybates.opendrive.com/files?NV8zOTg0NjUxMF8wUHpmZg"></source>If you cannot see the audio controls, <a href="https://amybates.opendrive.com/files?NV8zOTg0NjUxMF8wUHpmZg">listen/download the audio file here</a></audio><br />
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Amy June Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10017342731961893776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-80715190248663136762014-06-09T20:35:00.001-07:002014-06-11T19:31:26.981-07:00Just Accept & Embrace<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I haven't read the book but I have
seen the movie. The Fault in our Stars was amazing! Some people found the
book/movie depressing. Although, it was definitely sad at times I walked away
feeling grateful. So very grateful! Not that I am such a positive person that I
always take everything and spin it into something meaningful or anything,
because I would not consider myself that type of person. I actually avoid
movies and books with a whole lot of real feelings or emotions involved. They
affect me WAY too much. Life is hard enough as it is. I don’t need other
pretend people making me feel like I can’t get out of bed or like my heart has
been smashed. Guess what I have experienced loss and heartache. As far as I am
concerned “check”, that’s done don’t need to experience it again. Sorry about
the tangent. I do that a lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I don't know about you but it's easy
for me to get sucked into my own world. Wake up, figure out breakfast,
entertain the kids, figure out lunch, and try to do something active, figure
out dinner, bath time and bedtime. I can set my clock by it. My life is
predictable and I don’t mind it too much. I understand it is a phase of my
life. I try so hard to remember that I just need to accept and enjoy. Easier
said than done (sneer). Not that I don't naturally enjoy my life because I do
most of the time. If you know me you know my heart started beating when I had
my first baby girl. Being a mother has softened me. It’s morphed me into a
different person. I worry, I cry, I am anxious, I have a hard time sleeping.
None of that used to happen really at all. I guess I have “hormones” and
“feelings” and all that crap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 17px;"> (outdated picture but I love it)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I guess that's partly why the movie was so touching. I
don't feel the movie how I think a teenager would. Or a wife that was so
desperate to have a child for so long. I am a mother now. I have two baby girls
that rock my world daily. I know what it’s like to be so in love with someone.
To feel so vulnerable to love and can't imagine what my life would be like
without Troy or my girls. I see it through a mothers eyes and it’s terrifying.
As they say in the move </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">“That’s the thing about <b>pain</b>…it
demands to be felt.” Sucky, but yet oh so true.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">While watching the movie I tried to not
think about the people I have lost in my life. I tried to fight the memories but
they started coming up and echoing in my head. That call you get when you know
something is wrong. Before you even pick up the phone. You just feel the punch
in your gut. The movie shows this perfectly. One of my best friends who is also
my husbands cousin received such a call when her little brother overdosed. As
soon as I heard I called her. Her one year old answered the phone by accident.
I heard Amber’s screams and cries. I literally heard her heart breaking. Her
genuine emotion unguarded, uncensored, and it was horrible. I don’t think I
ever told her that. I hung up the phone. I felt like a peeping tom or
something. I should not have heard it. I try to forget it but can’t. My dear friend
lost her baby brother. No matter how you look at it it’s just sad. He is
missed. Why is it that everyone who dies has the most dynamic, larger than life
personalities? I don’t think it's us glamorizing the person at all. I am
rambling. Anyway, I guess I am just thankful. Thank you Heavenly Father for my
life. For my experiences good and bad. Just Thanks.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2268831347444597736.post-18869684186851836302014-06-07T21:03:00.004-07:002014-06-11T19:30:41.885-07:00Sing SongsI really want to make a list of songs that our family likes. ANY song you like or that we have sung together. I get these coupons for free or discounted photo books and I would really like to do one with songs and lyrics. Just add ones you can think of to the list… Porfavor:)<br>
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Here Comes The Sun</div>
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Blackbird</div>
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Candy Hearts and Paper Flowers</div>
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Ghost Riders</div>
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The Rainbow Song</div>
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I Feel My Saviors Love</div>
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Because I Have Been Given Much</div>
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Edelweiss</div>
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Stay Awake</div>
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Dream A Little Dream Of Me</div><div style="text-align: center;">Baby Mine</div><div style="text-align: center;">Journey to Tomorrow</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wouldn't it be Lovely</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div>The M.T.A</div><div>The Fox, </div><div>Froggie Went a Courtin</div><div>Lavendar Blue Dilly Dilly</div><div>The Big Rock Candy Mountain</div><div>Big Iron</div><div>El Paso</div><div>When it's Springtime in the Rockies Sweet Baby James</div><div>Sunshine On My Shoulders</div><div>It's not easy</div><div>Winkin Blinkin and Nod</div><div>Puff the Magic Dragon</div><div>Muskrat Love</div><div>Day-o </div><div>16 Tons</div><div>I often go walking</div><div>The searchers theme song "what makes a man to wander"</div><div>cool water</div><div>Country roads</div><div>The carpenters</div><div>Rag time cowboy joe</div><div>Feelin' groovy</div><div>Brothers four "try to remember," stewball was a race horse </div><div>Blowing in the Wind</div><div>Rainbow Connection</div><div>Hold On for one more day</div><div>I'd like to make it with you</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414064417274611379noreply@blogger.com0