Journey to the Center of my Heart

Every mom knows that as much as you are trying to teach your children everything they need to know to launch into the world, in the end, you learn more from them than you could ever teach.


Some of the lessons are less fun than others.


I think that's why you don't see as many blog posts about teenagers.  Also, they can read.  And be offended and/or embarrassed. But am I letting that stop me? Nope. Because this year I have learned a very large, very important, very painful lesson. And sharing is caring.


Ah, how to begin? I have a daughter...she is lovely.  Ever since she was a baby her smile has been like sunshine and as she grew her quick wit kept us all in laughter.  Like every mom I tried to teach her all the things I thought would make her happy.  One of those things, a really big one, was my religion.  It has been the anchor in my life, my testimony of Jesus has sustained me through the hardest times, and I wanted to gift that to my child.


But my beliefs didn't sit well with her. She has always had her own mind and when I tried to tell her how to dress, and eat, where to go and who her friends should be, and especially what she should feel and believe, well she just hated it. I did try to do it the right way, her Dad and I are pretty easy going most of the time. Sheesh, just writing this-it is so hard to explain. She didn't want to do anything bad, she just didn't feel what I feel, so everything else seemed like faking. She didn't want to have to fake it to fit in our family or have our approval. It made her mad and sad. Oh, and feisty.


I, on the other hand, felt that what we were trying to teach is true, with a capital T, and if I couldn't teach it then I was failing in my most sacred job as mother. So I wouldn't give up. In fact, it took God a lot of different notes for me to get the message. The message wasn't that I needed to give up, it was that I had already done what I was supposed to do and it was time to let my beautiful girl's spiritual life be between her and Him. That was hard to hear.


The Spirit speaks to different people in different ways, it even speaks to the same person in different ways...particularly if said person is having a hard time getting the point.  In my case it took at least three hits before I could acknowledge to Marc what was being said to me.  I guess to start I had a general "unease," a feeling that the path I was on (insisting that she do what I said because I knew it was right and I said it) wasn't really working (HA!) for us. Then one afternoon I was in 9 year old Ellie's class listening to presentations on California missions and each and every one of those astute fourth graders listed the Priests forcing their religion on the natives as a "con" of mission life. And the Spirit whispered to me, "See?" 


Then a few days later a really beautiful young mom who I admire and know through my church congregation was cutting my hair and telling me how when she was younger she needed to figure things out on her own and explore her own spiritual path. She said that the best thing her mother did was to support her in finding her own way. And the Spirit whispered again, "Let her be."

Later that week I told Marc how I was being directed and he agreed that we needed to rethink our approach. Then the penultimate message came, we were listening to General Conference, a world wide broadcast where the prophet, apostles, and other leaders of the Mormon church teach and preach twice a year and Elder Larry Y. Wilson was speaking about parenting. He said this, 

"We simply cannot force others to do the right thing. The scriptures make it clear that this is not God’s way. Compulsion builds resentment. It conveys mistrust, and it makes people feel incompetent. Learning opportunities are lost when controlling persons pridefully assume they have all the right answers for others."

It was like a light bulb (finally) went off in my head and my heart. This talk is parenting gold by the way, if you want to read it click here.


So. There.  I have shared my journey. Judge gently my friends, parenting is tricky but worth it. I am so happy being mom to my own wonderful children.

Mother's Day a la Teenagers

I did have a really great Mother's Day. There are times my friend, when having teenagers is challenging (IMPOSSIBLE), but at times like these (holidays that are made better with presents and cooking) it can be an advantage.


And boy can mine cook! Here's what they made for me because I am their favorite mom:

Fresh bruschetta on toasted french bread, bacon wrapped scallops, and pasta with parmesan, peas, and fresh parsley. It was so good! Better than many meals I have eaten in fancy restaurants. 

And for dessert, feast your eyeballs on this!

Pots of chocolate cream to dream about.  I am a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky Duck MOM!

Turkey Lurkey

 Another thing I like about our house is that we have wild turkeys. It is pretty funny to hear them gobbling up a fuss out there.


Of course our dog goes crazy. A couple of times he has almost caught one, but it turns out turkeys can fly. The very best part about the turkeys is that Marc can stand outside and do his extremely realistic turkey call/song/cry and when he does the turkeys all gobble back at him.  


You can't pay to see something that great.

Happy Home Owners

We bought our house. I am so happy.I love Springbrook Ranch and I have learned serious appreciation for many a previously unnoticed blessing by living here. In The Book of Mormon it says, "For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things," and in the Doctrine and Covenants (additional Mormon scripture) Eve says, "It is better for us to pass through sorrow, that we may know the good from the evil."


Yep, it is a true principle. Just think, if we hadn't lived for three years in a house that was for sale I would never have felt the tremendous joy I now feel knowing that NO ONE can call me to let me know they are coming in an hour to poke through the dirty secrets of my house otherwise known as the garage and laundry room.  

This is the mini orchard, two plum trees, two apricot and two apple.

And they can't make any stinking offers on it either leaving me frantically searching the internet for viable rental options that keep our kids in the same schools. Because we own it! And it is MY big project now! Ha!


Living here has also taught me to be happy when my kitchen sink has hot AND cold water, to feel satisfaction when I cook a meal with only two burners on the stove, to be grateful that I have my own room that I don't share with a nine year old daughter, and to absolutely love the cool California nights that blow through that room and allow me to sleep even though we don't have air conditioning.


Yes, Springbrook Ranch needs a lot of TLC, but I am dying to get to it.  After holding back on home projects for so long it will be fun to start putting all the things I have imagined into practice! Marc is so excited. I am not just saying that. Actually, we both agree that working on making our space beautiful feels like the rhythm of our life and we look forward to getting back into it. He just worries that I'm going to spend too much money.  When have I ever done that anyway? Luckily, there are a lot of things we can do that are inexpensive but will make a big difference in how the home looks, feels, and functions.  I get a big thrill out of making a beautiful improvement using more time, creativity and elbow grease than money.


And I'm excited to start sharing them here too.  

Depression Part Deuce

This is a picture I took of the SLC LDS temple when we were picking up Maddie. It has nothing to do with depression, I just like it.

Last week I wrote about what my depression looks like, today I want to write about the things I've learned over the years to help me get through it.  I'm hoping this will actually help someone who has their own struggle with the beastie.


There are several things I try to do, they don't always work but it is a place to start.  Oh, and by "work" I really mean help.  I don't know anything that just makes it go away, except time.


So that is the first thing that helps, recognizing that with time I will feel better.  It may take awhile, but believing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel is bracing. When I'm in the middle of depression I used to think I would never feel happy again, which in a sad, cyclical way, made me feel even sadder.  Now I keep telling myself "this too will pass."


Which brings me to another help-positive self talk.  Recognizing that depression and anxiety are not things I am to blame for, they are just something that happens.  It is tempting to think it wouldn't happen if I were stronger,  but really, who can control their brain chemicals?  So I try to make that voice in my head BE NICE.  Give myself a break and remember that the things I'm not getting done now will get done when I feel better.


The next tip is a dichotomy. It requires some self awareness because there are two basically opposite steps you can take and you need to decide for yourself which one it is time for.  I find both have their place in my cycle of depression. The first option is to try to just couch surf and ride it out for awhile.  If you believe it will pass and know that it's not your fault then sometimes you can give yourself permission to just rest; sleep if you need to sleep, hide from the world a bit (knowing you'll be back to it eventually), watch some t.v., read...just let your head take a break and escape from what is bothering you.  This isn't something to do for too long, but it can be a helpful and, I think, healing thing.  This might be a good place to mention that I'm not a doctor, I only play one to my kids.


The other choice you have is to put up a fight.  Sometimes my depression/anxiety is so bad that riding it out just won't work. I feel like I can't stand to feel that way for one more minute.  A good friend advised me that when you feel that way you should try and fight with everything you've got.  For me that means talking to the people I love so they know what's going on with me which eases the exhausting task of trying to hide what's going on.  It also means a lot of prayer and reading my scriptures and asking the Lord for strength and for an easing of my burden.  One time it was as if God literally reached inside me and turned the depression off, but that only happened once.  Usually I have to have patience for it to ebb away.


Another tool in your fighting toolbox can be medication. When I first experienced severe anxiety and depression I was dead set against drugs. I had visited my doctor hoping that I had a thyroid problem or some other easily treatable problem (oh yeah, that's a step too, visit your doctor) but when she diagnosed me with depression I didn't want a drug therapy.  I've never done well with medications, I'm sensitive to a lot of them, plus I was frightened that it would prove I was weak, crazy, lazy and basically a failure.


So I muddled on for another month or so getting pretty much no where.  Then one day I found myself in bed in the middle of the afternoon. My toddler was on the bed with me covered in band aids she had stuck all over herself for entertainment because I was too sick to take care of her.  I decided then that if medication might help me get better then medication I would take. 


Exercise is also super helpful.  It can feel almost impossible, but just getting out for a walk can make me feel better.  When I decide to fight I truly make a checklist of these things.  Each day I try to:


1. talk to someone I love who can be supportive
2. pray
3. read my scriptures
4. take my prescription
5. go for a walk


Certainly there are other things that work for other people but I've done a lot of reading and informal surveying of others who have had depression and I think this is a good place to start.


And finally, one of my sweet friends, Leslie, asked me on facebook what I think you can do when someone you love is in the throws of depression.  That is such a good question!  I know that one of the nicest things Marc has done for me is let me know that he isn't disappointed in me.  I think anyone who has this problem at some time feels like they are letting people down. That feeling alone can add a ton of bricks to how bad you feel already. Marc has helped me understand that it is okay to back off from my social, church, and volunteer obligations while I'm trying to get myself well.  Saying the words, "I know you're going to be okay and things are going to get better," can be very powerful.  


Oh, one more thing...therapy.  Therapy has at times been super duper helpful.  Expensive, but worth it.  All of a sudden I'm worried that I'm leaving something important out.  If you have any ideas for helping someone live through depression and anxiety please comment.  In fact, if you've made it all the way to the end of this you might leave a comment just so I feel validated and not creepy thinking that all my friends are looking at me differently now.  

Lessons From Depression

I've had episodes of depression since my mid thirties, meaning, lucky me, I've had over a decade to ponder and refine my techniques for dealing with it.


One of the reasons I haven't written in the past 10 months is because last summer brought a wave of depression that wrung me out and left me limp. I have sometimes felt like I'm a hard working blender and it is my job to take my husband's and my children's and my own pain, anger, hurts, and disappointments and somehow blend it all up into happy sweet strawberry milkshakes.


Does that make sense?  So obviously I thought I couldn't write about how I was really feeling-and I didn't have it in me to serve up fake milkshakes on my blog.


But now I really want to try my best to tell it like it is.  And there are many seasons in life that really are lovely and fairly easy.  My chemicals are balanced and my anxiety/depression is dormant.  Life has ups and downs and I deal like everyone else. 


But when it rears it's ugly head I've learned some things to make it more bearable and I want to write about it to help myself and, hopefully, help someone else. Today I'm just going to write about how my depression looks and what I do about it; later I want to try to write about what triggered my episode this summer.  Fun for the whole family!


Sitting here fidgeting and distracting myself on Facebook.  This is harder than I thought.


Okay, so for me depression is married to anxiety.  In fact, it always starts with something that I am worried about, something that seems, to my crazy brain, insurmountable.  The only things I really worry myself to death about are the people I love, so my anxiety usually has to do with a relationship that is out of whack or a family member who is having a hard time.  If you are one of those loved ones-worry not.  Discretion is the name of my game, baby!  


It pretty much starts out feeling like the flu.  I can't sleep.  I can't eat.  I spend the nights laying on my back, waving my legs in the air because they are twitchy and they hurt.  I throw up a lot.  I try to hide it and act normal when my kids are around and then just collapse as soon as they are all out the door.  My mind is in a constant spin about whatever is bothering me.


Later I will lose all my energy.  I can't really sleep, but all I want to do is lay in bed and hide.  Eating is still out and it is hard to muster up interest in anything.  I'll feel guilty for being so useless and that, of course, doesn't help anything. At home I struggle to do the bare minimum of my parenting tasks and focus all my energy on trying to at least talk to my sweet kids. Last summer my dad said it was like I had just faded away, which I found interesting since when I was with my parents I was trying SO HARD to hide what was happening.


I know depression can manifest itself differently in different people, but that is my nutshell in a nutshell.


I think I'm going to go to bed now and follow up with my helping myself heal protocol tomorrow, like I said, this is tougher than I thought it would be. 


  

Hi Friends

I haven't felt like blogging in a really long time, and the thing that has dragged my out of my writing about myself like I'm super interesting slump is an overwhelming need to complain about the downstairs toilet.  It won't be denied.


The downstairs toilet is leaking.  Again.  Honestly, in the almost four years we have lived here I have had a plumber repair that stupid, stupid toilet three different times.  The wax seal has been replaced twice. If you didn't know that the only thing standing between you and an open sewage drain is a big ole' wax seal then I'm sorry for stealing your innocence.


It is a mystery why that toilet keeps leaking.  I ponder if my children are particularly hard on toilets.  Do they rock the toilet?  Or bounce?  I don't know.  It seems like they wouldn't do anything stupid like that but then, let me tell you this story.


Back in Virginia, when they were both in elementary school, Maddie and Katie used to share a bedroom with two twin beds in it.  One Saturday Katie's wooden frame completely cracked.  When we asked how it happened she kept insisting that she was "just sitting on it."  


Right.


Later we learned through the time honored tradition of sibling tattling that Katie had been repeatedly leaping from her desk to her bed.  You know, just for fun.  So obviously I can't trust what my kids tell me about the toilet.  "We just sit on it," they say, but who really knows?


And that is what is weighing heavy on my mind tonight.  And it feels good to share.