scrambled

SCRAMBLED seems to be the perfect word to describe me, the children, our lives, our living situation, our schooling, and anything else... especially my thoughts. I am sitting here on the couch, feet propped up onto the table top, Lochlan is asleep on top of me, with his cute little bum rounded and sticking out, Mont just woke up from his much needed nap, and Buckwheat came over to beg for something. I'm not even sure what. But he is now licking the carpet (probably where Lochlan spit up earlier - gross). No matter how crazy I feel.. at least it's just the dog that licks the floor, and not my children. Knock on wood. ("Buckwheat! No." - There. He stopped.)

I have my computer open, trying to gather my thoughts for a talk I've been asked to give on Sunday. The topic is The Role of Mothers.

I believe - oh, cute.. Lochlan just snorted nice and loud - that I have been asked to speak on this for my own behalf. I need a recharge. I need perspective, and whenever I research a topic, I get it - I can understand something a little better.

Thank goodness for other mothers out there who can help me reach a different, and better perspective. I feel sometimes like I'm drowning.. My dad is the only one who is reading this, I think, and I feel a little bad that I'm confessing all this, with him as my sole audience. However, when we are living with my parents, they have had to take on the role of secondary parents, and step away from their more-fun roles of grandparents. For this, I am sorry. If we were in our home, I wouldn't have to worry so much about the effects of loud children on the ears of others. I wouldn't have to worry so much about the socks, dinosaurs, and papers that my children seem to leave in their wake. I would pick them up soon, but when it's not my own home, I feel I need to do everything all the time. But this isn't even how it happens - that's just how I feel.

What really happens, is that while I am stressing out, my mother and father are there, picking up my slack. They see what extras need to be done; an extra reminder to not bang the side of the swivel chairs into the countertop, the extra warning of 'slow down, someone's going to get hurt,' or the extra hand to clear the table after the children are fiiiinally done eating and the baby is feeding (again). What really happens, is that when I unknowingly sleep until 7:45 am, because Lochlan had just fallen asleep at 6:10 on top of me, and Mont had been awake 4 times the last night, and 9 times the night before, they send Mont down to see what kind of donuts I would like for breakfast - because they are taking Mont and Emmy on a donut run. Such a sweet reminder that they are helping me - in this case, literally!

What really happens, is that I'm not left to do things for myself. I could have gone with Mark to Oklahoma where he trains on his airplane, but we would have had no furniture, Mont would have had to enroll in a school that neither of us know, we would have had a newborn in a small apartment with Mark trying to study his hardest... We could have done it. But it would have broken a few spirits, and would have cost a lot in living expenses, trying to get comfortable enough to live minimally with three young children.

As I research this topic now, I am feeling recharged as I read a dear blogger's remarks on motherhood. It's not easy for anyone. It's not easy for the people who make it look easy. I'm grateful for people's honesty on the subject.. but I also am very grateful for the encouragement that I find in the positive take on all parts that are honest.

Yes, motherhood is hard. But what good thing is never wrought by hard and prolonged effort?? (Well.. chocolate. Chocolate is good, and it's even better when it's not hard to get to.) I read somewhere once that anything worthwhile comes through hard work. Reading what I've found on lds.org, it sure seems to me, that this is a hard work all because of the greatness that can come from it. This is a work that is not bound by time, or by this world. What I am doing now, how I am rearing my children, will affect lifetimes, and span eternities. Sometimes all I feel is the pressure of that. But thankfully, time is not faster than it is. Yes, some moments pass by in the blink of an eye, but for the most part, I can slow down and take a breath as I re-examine some things. I can get perspective, and I can try again. My children wake up from naps and have forgotten the tears and breakdowns that ensued not 2 hours earlier. They are forgiving, and they are good.

I need to remember to take heart in my efforts. While I am far from perfect, I am teaching the basics and the fundamentals that will help them in their years to come... that is if they remember to remember it. Every day, we read scriptures, we pray, we say we're sorry, we smile and sometimes we cry; every week we have family home evening and we go to church every Sunday. We are making an effort. I pray for the blessings that are promised to us in the temple. I pray for the guidance of the Lord's hand. It has been told to us that we are doing a work that is so important, that even angels are sent to protect us and our children. I take heart in that. I take heart that this effort is the most worthwhile thing I could be doing. These children need me so much. They need every effort I have to give. While it expends every shred of energy I have to give, and sometimes every ounce of patience, I wouldn't trade anything. I feel the happiness and the good in every other moment; when Mont remembers a lesson that we had the day previous (homeschool), or Emmy holds her big brother who is lately terrified of the dark, or when Lochlan smiles extra big for my Dad. There are so many moments that I can cherish even more because I have the hard moments to compare them to. Without the taste of bitter, one cannot truly relish the taste of the sweet - right? Also..  I can laugh at the moments when Mont and Emmy play a game together for the first time, and while I see them cheating, at least they're cheating together.