MaeLyn's Musings

Children are creatures of habit. When something happens one way for a long time, that is the way they expect it to be. Anything else is horribly, horribly wrong. My children have their specific places at the table--not because Steven or I told them they had to sit there, but because years ago they chose a favorite place to sit, and they consistently sat there until it became a habit, and then a tradition. At times we've had to make a change for one reason or another, but it is always met with some resistance. Even between meal times, they will complain if someone else is sitting in their chair. The children know which seat in the car is theirs and expect to sit in their own seat when we go for a drive. When they outgrow their car seats, it is a challenge to persuade them to relinquish their seat to a younger sibling, even if they do get a new seat of their own.

I don't know how long ago it began, but for a long time now, when I set the table for dinner, I've given Hannah a red cup, John a green cup, Josh a blue cup and Peter a yellow cup. Maybe it's because those were Hannah, John and Josh's favorite colors so they would ask for those and Peter got what was left. Now it isn't something I even think about any more, it's just the way to set the table. Little did I realize the consequences of my consistence.

Last night, Steven set the table for dinner. He didn't give the kids their accustomed color of cup. When the kids gathered for dinner, the commotion ensued:

"How come I have a green cup? Where's my blue cup?"

"Hey, you have my cup!"

"Can we rotate cups? I have his and she has mine and he has hers!"

Eventually the oldest three accepted the novelty of drinking from a different color cup. Peter, on the other hand, as determined and strong willed as only a two-year-old can be, would not accept the red cup in front of him for anything. He wanted juice, and he wanted it in a yellow cup. Nothing short of that would please him. There wasn't any juice on the table; just water. I offered him water in the red cup. He wasn't interested. He insisted on having a yellow cup. I went to the cupboard and pulled out a yellow cup and poured the water from the red cup into the yellow cup. He wouldn't drink it. He wanted juice. There was some orange juice left over from breakfast in the fridge. I poured some orange juice into the now empty red cup. His patience with me was now totally exhausted. It wasn't until I dumped out the water in the yellow cup and poured the juice from the red cup to the yellow cup that Peter finally calmed down and consented to drink. It had to be juice and it had to be in a yellow cup. Nothing less would do.

Predestination vs. Foreordination
Thursday 5/17/2007 12:09pm

I was perusing the Awake magazine that the Jehovah's Witnesses left yesterday afternoon and came across an interesting article. It discusses the idea of predestination, refuting it for several reasons, but mostly because if we were predestined to do certain things we would loose our power to choose, which God obviously wants us to be able to do. One paragraph struck me as interesting because it related to the discussion we had the day before:

Consider another line of reasoning. If God chooses to foreknow everything, then even before he made Adam and Eve, he would have known that they would disobey him. But when God told Adam that he must not eat from "the tree of the knowledge of good and bad" or he would die, did God already know that Adam would eat from it? (Genesis 2:16, 17) When God told the first couple: "Be fruitful and become many and fill the earth and subdue it, and have in subjection the fish of the sea and the flying creatures of the heavens and every living creature that is moving upon the earth," did he know that their wonderful prospect of life in a paradise was doomed to failure? Of course not. --Genesis 1:28.

I want to begin by stating that I don't believe in predestination. We do have our agency to choose what we will do. At the same time, I believe in a very wise Heavenly Father who knows all things. I believe that he knows each of his children very well, even better than we know ourselves. I believe that he has a pretty good idea of our talents, strengths and weaknesses. How else could he make the promise in 1 Corinthian 10:13 that God "will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape that ye may be able to bear it?" How else can he know how much we are able to bear?

I also believe in foreordination. I believe that God called certain individuals before they were even born to perform certain tasks on this earth. With a knowledge of our personalities and talents, God placed certain of his children in certain situations, so that they would be in the best position to do what the Lord wanted them to do. The prophet Jeremiah was one who was ordained to become a prophet before his birth. (See Jeremiah 1:5) That is not to say that he was forced to become one, but God knew his nature, knew he would be faithful, and so he was given every opportunity to fulfill that potential.

That brings me back to Adam and Eve. Yes, I believe that God knew that eventually Adam and Eve would disobey him and eat the fruit. The first (and greater) commandment he gave them, about being fruitful and multiplying and filling the earth, could not be kept until they had eaten the fruit and become mortal. They could not possibly keep both commandments because in keeping the one, they could not obey the other.

So does this make God unjust? Was he setting them up for failure from the very creation? I think that it is the opposite, actually. While in the Garden, Adam and Eve would live forever and never die. They had the opportunity to walk and talk with God. They lived in paradise where they never had to worry about where their next meal would come from. God, in his wisdom, realized that in this state of existence, they would never learn everything they needed to or grow to the level of knowledge that God himself had. A baby forever swaddled in warm blankets lying in her mother's arms will never learn to walk and fully experience the world around her. But a just God could not send them out of his presence for nothing. It had to be a consequence of something they had done. And so the commandment not to eat the fruit was given, with the intent that it would be broken eventually.

In the Church of Jesus Christ we refer to the eating of the fruit as "Adam's transgression". It was a transgression, not a sin. A sin implies knowledge of the consequences. Young children can not sin because they do not yet understand consequences. Adam and Eve were likewise in that state of innocence, where they did not understand the consequences involved in eating the fruit. The consequence they had been told of was death. But what was death? Nothing had ever died yet, so how could they understand what it meant? But they had disobeyed the Father and so were cast out of the Paradise where they lived in God's presence and came to live in this dreary world. Here they learned what death is. they learned what sorrow is. And they also learned joy and happiness. They made mistakes, as God, knowing that only one of his many children (Jesus Christ) was perfect, understood that they would. But they also learned to repent of those sins and to depend on the atonement to bring us resurrection and forgiveness and bring us back to God's presence. They learned the difficult lessons that God had intended for them to learn from the beginning, and through the plan that our wise Heavenly Father had made, they were redeemed from the fall wiser and stronger than had they lived in the Garden of Eden all along.

Some thoughts on Adam and Eve
Wednesday 5/16/2007 12:06pm

There is a Jehovah's Witness who comes to visit every few months. She always comes with a friend, although rarely the same friend twice. We have had many discussions over the last couple years, and it has been interesting to compare her beliefs with my own. She came after dinner last night and we spent some time discussing Adam and Eve.

As I understand from our conversation, she believes that God had originally intended for Adam and Eve to live in the Garden of Eden forever in perfect paradise. If Adam and Eve had never disobeyed God's commandment and partaken of the fruit, the entire human family would still be living happily in the Garden, and that is the way God wanted it. He never intended all the suffering and pain we experience now.

On the other hand, I shared with her my belief that God planned everything from the start. Before he even placed Adam and Eve in the Garden and gave them the commandment to multiply or the commandment to not eat the fruit, he knew that they would eat the fruit and have to leave the Garden, and he planned for the Savior's atonement to bring them back. I have told her in the past that I believe this life was intended to be a test for us so that we can learn and grow and become more like God.

Last night after the Jehovah's Witnesses left, I opened my Book of Mormon to 2 Nephi 2. This is a wonderful chapter as far as the insights that it gives us concerning the Plan of Salvation, and Adam and Eve. Through this chapter, some important things are revealed:

1. There must be opposition in all things. (v. 11) If we never experienced sorrow, we would never know joy. If Adam and Eve had stayed in the garden forever, they would "have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin." (v.23) Adam and Eve would have been stuck, unable to grow spiritually, or prove to God that they would keep his commandments.
Adam and Eve did partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Knowing evil, they could learn to distinguish good from evil. Knowing good, they could learn to choose the good. Because of the fall of Adam, sin, sorrow, and suffering came into the world, and with it, joy, happiness and understanding. Now we can exercise our agency because we better understand the choices. We can overcome laziness and selfishness and the other struggles that face us and become stronger. We can develop character and become great people because we have fought against trials and opposition. This would not have been possible in the garden.

2. Adam and Eve could not have children in the Garden. (see v. 23) I'm not sure exactly how it worked, but my understanding is that before they ate the fruit they weren't entirely mortal. They couldn't die, but nor could they procreate. If they hadn't partaken of the fruit, Adam and Eve would still be alone in the garden, and none of the rest of us would have had a chance to be born. "And all things which were created must have remained in the same state in which they were after they were created; and they must have remained forever, and had no end." (v. 22) So the whole earth would have been rather pointless for most of us.
From the scriptures, it isn't obvious how long Adam and Eve lived in the garden before the fall. It could have been a few days, or it could have been centuries, but no children were born until after they ate the fruit and became truly mortal, and were cast out.
An interesting thought I had when my Witness friend was telling me that we would all be in the Garden of Eden, was that the Garden would be packed full, if every person and animal that was ever born on earth were still alive today and living there.

3. "All things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things." (v. 24) God had a plan from the beginning. He understood that Adam and Eve would eat the fruit. From the beginning he planned for there to be an atonement to redeem us from the fall. God provided a way for us to learn to distinguish good from evil, to learn to choose the good, to repent of our sins and to return to his presence. The fall of Adam was not an unforeseen disaster but part of the plan of a loving Heavenly Father.

My Witness friend could not understand how a loving Heavenly Father could want us to live in a world with so much suffering and pain. I tried comparing it to a parent who sets a baby on her feet to help her learn to walk. Yes, it is a more precarious position, but it is only by placing her in that position that she can really take off. It is like a tiny chick pecking his way out of the confines of his shell or a butterfly struggling free of its cocoon. Opposition makes us stronger. We need struggles in this life to prove to ourselves and to him that we do choose to follow our Heavenly Father and keep his commandments no matter what. No, he doesn't want us to suffer, but he is willing to let us suffer so our knowledge and faith will increase and we can achieve salvation.

I'm grateful for Adam and Eve and that they chose to eat the forbidden fruit. I'm grateful for Heavenly Father's wonderful plan and for the atonement of Jesus Christ. It is a comfort for me to know that Heavenly Father loves me and cares for me. I'm glad that I have the scriptures to help me understand Heavenly Father's plan and I'm glad that there are people like my Jehovah's Witness friend who help me to question and thereby strengthen my beliefs.

The Search for Truth
Tuesday 5/15/2007 12:09pm

During my Senior year in High School, I took a humanities class in which I was assigned to write an essay on truth. What is truth? Is it objective and absolute or is it subjective? We had works of the masters to consult: Plato, Aristotle, etc. along with whatever other sources we wanted to consult. I wrote the essay, and although I don't really remember very well exactly what I wrote, (This was 14 years ago) I never felt like I had a very good grasp on it. I believed that real truth must be objective but it also seemed somewhat elusive; while objective truth exists, no one may realize or know what it actually is.

Last night, I was looking for something to read and picked up The Divine Center by Stephen R. Covey. In the very first chapter, he says, "In modern revelation, the Lord defines truth as 'knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come.' (D&C 93:24) . . . Truth is a knowledge of things. In other words, it is an internal mental understanding or grasping of the way things really are. . . . This revealed definition suggests that truth is in the mind; it is an internal rather than an external thing." (pp13-14)

Reading this was like one of those "aha" moments we talked about in that humanities class so long ago. I had read that verse in the Doctrine and Covenants. I may have even quoted it in my essay, but I hadn't really understood the "knowledge" part of it the way Covey did. Truth in this context finally makes sense to me. Facts exist, but truth is when our own perceptions and understanding agree with what really exists and how things really are. It is when our subjective understanding matches the objective facts. And yes, with all the past experiences and prejudices that shade our perceptions of the world around us, real truth is rare.

This experience has gotten me thinking about truth and knowledge. Over the next few days I may explore this thought a bit more. Stay tuned.

Adventures with Kids: Toothpaste
Tuesday 11/21/2006 2:56pm

This morning, the kids didn't have school because we had parent teacher conferences today. I was rushing around the house trying to get it straightened up for the day, and the kids were running around playing. I was vacuuming the crumbs and other detritus from under the table in the dining room when John came in.
"Um, Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"There's something you might want to see in your bathroom."
Oh dear. I finished vacuuming real quick and went back to my bathroom to see. Joshua and Peter were sitting on my bathroom counter with their feet in the sink having the time of their lives. I saw toothpaste on the mirror, on the faucet, on the soap dispenser, on the toothbrush holder, all over the sink, on their clothes, and even in their hair. Josh took one glance at me, grinned, and said, "Tada!" He was so proud of himself!
I took a deep breath. First I took a picture for posterity. Then I sent Joshua to change his clothes and tried to wash the toothpaste out of Peter's hair in the sink. Then I found a sponge and scrubbed the mirror, the faucet, the soap dispenser, the toothbrush holder and the sink until most of the toothpaste was gone. Then I found my glass cleaner and a paper towel and shined the mirror and faucet. Finally, the bathroom looked clean again. But then I had to find Joshua and change him out of the clothes I had just put on him half an hour before and put clean clothes on him. What a fun and exciting start to my day.

Things I am Grateful For on Sundays
Sunday 5/28/2006 2:39pm

Today I was reminded of several things that I am grateful for, things that I frequently take for granted:

I am grateful for sleep. I am grateful for a nice warm bed, for fluffy pillows. I am grateful that my older children have learned to let me sleep and that my youngest child is learning to sleep longer in the morning. I am grateful that Steven doesn't have a calling that requires him to be at meetings early Sunday mornings. I am grateful that we don't have church until 11am.
I am grateful for reminders. I am grateful when my children actually show me the notices they get when they have been assigned a talk or scripture in Primary. I am grateful when I receive the reminder phone call Sunday morning before that assignment should be fulfilled (especially if I didn't see or hear about the original notice given.) And I am very grateful for a husband that is very good at coming up with great talks for my children to give even at the last minute.
I am grateful when my car starts in the morning, without having to be jumpstarted or otherwise fiddled with. I am grateful for the days when my husband can go to church in the same car with us. I am grateful that my husband knows how to jumpstart a car, and that I have opportunities to learn to do so as well.
I am grateful that I can get to church early enough to post the numbers for the hymns before the meeting starts. I am grateful when I arrive to hear the organist present, prepared to play, and already playing the prelude when I get there. I am grateful that I have organists who are willing to play hymns at the last minute if the need arises. I am grateful that I have had enough training that I can play the organ in a pinch. I am grateful that there are people willing to lead the singing at the last minute should I have to play the organ. I am grateful for a wonderful husband who tends the kids in the pews when I have to sit on the stand. I am grateful for children who can play happily and quietly during the meeting to allow those around them to listen to the speakers. I am grateful for the kind family who frequently sits in front of us and helps to keep our children entertained.
I am grateful that I can take the sacrament each Sunday and renew the covenants I made when I was baptized. I am grateful for the Spirit that helps me learn the things I need to learn to draw closer to my Heavenly Father. I am grateful for the knowledge that I do have a loving Heavenly Father. I am grateful for the Savior, Jesus Christ and for his atonement. I am grateful that I can be forgiven of my sins, and that I can return to live with God again.
I am grateful that my children have opportunities to give talks in Primary. I am grateful that both Hannah and John can read well enough to give talks without assistance. I am grateful for a sweet husband who helps my boys use the potty between meetings. I am grateful that most of my children are potty trained, or are working on it. I am grateful that it is rare for one of my children to have an accident at church. I am grateful for kind and forgiving Primary workers.
I am grateful that Peter frequently sleeps through much of church. I am grateful that Steven is so good at getting him to sleep.
I am grateful that I can play the piano well enough to assist in my Relief Society meetings. I am grateful that there are women willing to hold Peter while I am at the piano. I'm grateful that Peter loves me and wants to be with me. I am grateful that Peter is usually quiet enough that I can at least stand in the doorway to the Relief Society room and can usually hear most of the lesson.
I am grateful to be reunited with my family after church. I am grateful when we can discuss our lessons in the car on the way home. I am grateful for the warm sun, the gentle breeze. I am grateful to have a quiet afternoon I can spend with my family at home.

Adventures in My New Calling
Thursday 3/30/2006 4:25pm

I recently received a new calling at church. I am the "Ward Music Chairman" and I am now responsible for the music in our ward meetings. I get to choose it, make sure there is an organist and a chorister, and organize musical numbers. I am also supposed to assist with any other musical needs in the ward.

First, a comment about callings. I believe that when a bishop offers a calling to a person, it is because he has prayed about it and feels that the Lord wants that person to have that particular calling. Because of this belief, I feel it is my responsibility to accept a calling when I am offered it. When the bishop's counselor talked with me and offered this calling to me, I accepted it immediately, with no qualms. The more I thought about it however, the more I started to worry about it. I felt like I was too young, too inexperienced, but I had accepted it, and I would do it. Obviously the Lord wouldn't have asked me to do this unless he thought I could do it, eventually. However, in the last couple months I've had this responsibility, I've had a few trials and difficulties and stressful moments.

First came the challenge of planning the hymns to be sung in our sacrament meetings. I wanted to have most of the year planned in advance so my organists could have the list and prepare and practice as needed. Ideally the hymns should center around the topics to be taught at each meeting. I was given a list of topics for most weeks, except for fast and testimony meetings, when anyone can bear their testimonies about any topic, and high council Sundays, when a member of the high council visits our ward to speak. So I prayed and planned the hymns for as many meetings as I could, then set about trying to get the topics for the high council speakers. I called several people who might know, left messages that weren't returned immediately, and worried a lot. Finally, Tuesday of the week before the first high council Sunday, I was given the name of the person who assigned the topics, and he told me over the phone what they would be through June, and later that same day I received an email from another person who actually forwarded to me the official email sent to the speakers themselves giving them the topics and resources they would need to prepare their talks. So I was able to choose appropriate hymns, get the information to the organist, and all was well. The hymns are chosen through June, and so I have a few more months before I will have to think about that again.

In my ward, there are four people who know how to play the organ. One is getting married in two weeks and will be moving to another state. Another had a baby two days ago. A third was newly called about a month ago to play the organ, but she also plays for Relief Society and has not shown up the last two weeks. She didn't plan a replacement or even let anyone know in advance she would be gone. That worries me that I will have to find an emergency backup organist some Sunday when she is supposed to play and doesn't show up. The fourth organist plays well, but she likes to have a week or two of practice, and is really not comfortable playing at short notice. I used to play the organ, but I haven't played it at all in the last four years, and I'm very rusty. I'm waiting for the week that I have no one to play the organ and we have to sing a capella.

A couple weeks ago I had arranged for the Relief Society to sing in Sacrament meeting. I received a phone call that morning telling me the Relief Society chorister wouldn't be able to make it, and could I lead the song? That wasn't too bad, except that I had missed two of the four rehearsals, and wasn't entirely sure what was going on. But during the meeting, as the Relief Society was coming to the front to sing, the Relief Society president informed me that the pianist (also my newest organist) wasn't there, and could I please play the piano instead, and ask someone else to lead? In the end it went well, and I don't think anyone in the congregation noticed the change-up.

Saturday evening I received a call from the bishop asking me to find an organist and chorister for a funeral to be held on Monday. I started calling, and none of the organists in my ward could do it. I started calling organists in other wards, and finally, Sunday evening I finally found an organist in another ward who wasn't excited about it, but was willing to do it. I was relieved that was over, only to receive another call Tuesday morning, someone needed a pianist and chorister for a baptism that evening. Luckily there are more people who can play piano and so that task wasn't quite as difficult.

I get to lead the music in sacrament meetings. That is, I get to stand up in front and wave my hand around, and supposedly people are supposed to follow me. Usually that isn't bad, but I have had some rough days. A couple weeks ago I was leading the closing hymn, when I really needed to cough. I tried to resist, and my eyes started to water, and I finally had to cough, and I tried to do it at the end of a verse, but then I missed bringing everyone back in for the next verse. I was embarrassed.

But last week was even worse. Steven stayed home with Hannah, who was sick, so I had the three boys at church with just me. I found people to help me watch them during the time I had to be on the stand, but in my bustle to get ready for the meeting, I didn't double check the hymn numbers in the printed program with the list I had made and given to my organist. I posted the numbers in the program, assuming they were correct. It wasn't until the sacrament hymn that I was listening to the introduction and realized the hymn in front of me wasn't the hymn we were supposed to be singing. I had to stop everything and figure out which page we were supposed to be on. Again, that was embarrassing. Later, just as it was time for me to go back up to lead the closing hymn, John fell and bumped his head, and I had to calm him down until someone else could take him out of the meeting for me so I could go up to lead the music. Again, I was embarrassed. How could I lead a song about rejoicing when I felt like crying or hiding under a rock?

I've had the calling two months. Is it going to get easier? Or will I ever feel more comfortable with the unexpected challenges and responsibilities? I sure hope so!

Why do I bother?
Friday 3/3/2006 12:44pm

I am a full time mother, and a full time homemaker. The mothering part has its frustrations and aggravations, but it also has rewards. Most of the time it is satisfying to watch my young children grow and discover the world around them and learn how to be a part of society. I love to read to my children. I enjoy cuddling with them and playing with them. I appreciate the moments when I can hold a child on my lap as he or she tells me about his adventures, thoughts and feelings. I marvel when my children wake one morning seeming to have grown, or when they surprise me with something new they have learned. These rewards make up for the frustrations I have when my children have problems or difficulties I don't know how to resolve.

I find the homemaking part of my job less satisfying though. As a homemaker, I have the responsibility for keeping my house neat, keeping my family in clean laundry, preparing meals for my family to eat, and cleaning up after those meals. These are things I could hire a housekeeper to do, if I had the money and the inclination. These are things I get the least satisfaction from.

Don't misunderstand me. I love the sense of accomplishment that I feel occasionally from cleaning a room and seeing how great it looks. But the problem is that this doesn't happen very often. I'm constantly cleaning, picking up clutter, vacuuming, scrubbing, but the house never stays clean for any length of time. Usually a room is beginning to be cluttered before I'm even done vacuuming. I have spent a couple hours in a morning helping a child clean a bedroom, only to have it a disaster area by nightfall. So why do I bother?

I like to prepare delicious food that everyone who eats it can appreciate. Now, even though I prepare food for my family to eat every night, it is very rare that everyone eats it, and frequently my children don't even touch it and I am left with leftovers for my husband or myself to eat for the rest of the week. Last night I found a recipe that looked delicious. I spent an hour preparing and cooking it, timing it to be done about the time we usually eat. And of course something happened to delay dinner. In the process of trying to keep it warm for an extra 20 minutes, I burned it, and what I had thought was going to be a tasty treat ended up crispy, tasteless and dry. Why do I even bother?

Somewhere in the back of my head I have a vision of a perfect family, where the kids pick up after themselves, the house stays reasonably clean, where everyone is happy, and every meal is a delicious feast over which the family discusses their day and bonds while filling their bellies and complimenting the cook on a job well done. I guess I should just get real and realize that this is never going to happen. My children will always drop whatever they are playing with wherever they happen to be when something better comes along. Shoes will always be left wherever they are taken off, which, nine times out of ten will NOT be where they belong. My kids will always be picky eaters, dinner will never be on time, and I just need to get over it. Why do I bother trying? I guess because I still hope that some day, some how, my vision will become a reality, if only for one day.

The Pacifier Problem
Monday 1/30/2006 10:36 AM

Some people call them pacifiers or "pacies". Others call them "binkies". We mostly call them plugs, but occasionally sucker knobs or mute buttons. They are usually fairly simple devices: one part for sucking on, another part, sometimes called a shield, to keep the whole thing from being swallowed. Some have a loop to hold it by or to attach it to a babies clothing.

Why were these devices invented? Because babies love to suck. Even before birth, babies suck on fingers, tongues, whatever they can get into their mouths. After birth, sucking is the method by which babies get their food. Sucking calms them, relaxes them, helps them to sleep.

My daughter never took a plug. I didn't really push it with her. I tried sticking one in her mouth a few times and she'd push it right back out, and I gave up quickly. She never took any interest in sucking her thumb either. So whenever she needed to suck on something, it ended up being me. I'd nurse her when she was hungry, I'd nurse her to sleep, I'd nurse her when she cried. In other words, I nursed her all the time. But that was OK. She was my only child at the time, I quit my job before she was born, and I didn't really have anything else to do. When she was almost a year old, she lost interest in nursing, and that was that.

With John, I had to change my tactics. With an active two year old, I couldn't just sit and nurse all day. So I pushed the plug. I held it in his mouth until he learned how to keep it in himself. It made my life so much easier. I could just feed him when he was hungry, and let him suck on a plug when he was tired or just needed comfort. When he cried we could insert his "mute button" and he would be quiet and happy again. I occasionally had to go digging through the bedding in his crib to find one of his many plugs to put him back to sleep when he awoke in the middle of the night, but I could deal with that. Finally, when he was about two, he started biting on his plugs, and as they were broken, I threw them away until there were no more, and he had to survive without a plug any more.

Joshua also learned to take a plug. We only had one plug with him, and it was occasionally lost, and we would search until we found it, until one day, when he was almost two, we lost it while out taking a walk, and we never found it again. I had a few difficult days trying to get him down for naps and to sleep at night without it, but eventually, he too, learned to sleep without his "sucker knob".

Peter also took a plug. I had a little more difficulty keeping track of his plugs though. One got run over by a car, and a few more were lost, vanished into thin air just a week after I bought them. So now we just have one, and he was OK with it, until about a week ago. He suddenly lost interest in it. I offer the plug to him and he clamps his lips tight and shakes his head from side to side as though he were saying "no!" I already miss it. When I need just two more minutes to finish something before I can sit down and feed him, I can't use a plug to help him wait. When he is tired, I can't pop a plug in his mouth so he can comfort himself, relax and fall asleep. He fights sleep now. He had just begun sleeping through the night a week before his plug strike. Now he is having trouble sleeping again. For example, last night he woke at two in the morning, and wouldn't go back to sleep. He just moaned to himself, and fought all my attempts to soothe him back to sleep. After patting him, rocking him, offering water from a bottle (which he wouldn't take any more than he would his plug) and listening to him cry, I finally gave up and nursed him. He didn't suck like he was thirsty. He sucked like he was pacifying himself, and he was soon asleep for the remainder of the night.

I am aware that a lot of parents have difficulty weaning their children from pacifiers, and would love it if their son or daughter gave it up on their own, but I liked it better when Peter would take his pacifier. I don't like being one. I don't mind feeding my babies when they are hungry, and I don't mind comforting them when they are sad, scared or hurt, but when they just need something to suck on for the sake of sucking, particularly in the middle of the night, I'd prefer for it to be an ingenious little device which was invented specifically for babies to suck on.

Feeding the Family
Wednesday 1/25/2006 1:15 PM

When I was a teenager, I remember enjoying fixing dinner on Fast Sunday. We didn't eat breakfast or lunch on these Sundays, so by dinner time, everyone was hungry, and they really appreciated dinner. I would make meatloaf or baked potatoes, and it always seemed like the best meal of the month. My older sister would make cookies or sweets, but I liked making dinner better.

As a wife and mother, that has changed somewhat. When I was first married, it was very strange to go from cooking for a dozen people to cooking for just two. It hardly seemed worth the bother. But I cooked dinners, Steven ate them, and we had lots of leftovers. I had to adjust a little, since Steven doesn't care for anything that resembles a tomato, but for the most part things were pretty good.

Then we started having babies. At first, babies are easy to feed. I nursed each of my babies for about a year, and it was convenient, well liked and appreciated. I very rarely had a baby refuse to nurse. Then, between four and six months, I was advised to start giving solids. With each child, I started with cereal - rice, then oatmeal and barley. The first spoonfuls always went in and right back out at me as the baby was learning how to deal with a spoon and more solid food than he or she was used to. But before long, the baby learned to maneuver the food to the back of the mouth and swallow. Once that skill was mastered, I would go on to vegetables, fruits, and meats. That's when the frustrations began. Babies are picky eaters! I try giving a variety of different foods and mixing favorites with less favored foods. But foods that were favorites one day may be disliked the next, and vice versa. And sometimes baby is just not interested. He'd rather play with the spoon. How do you feed a baby when confronted with a sealed shut mouth? I try airplanes and tickling. I give baby a spoon for each of his hands and try sneaking the real spoon with food on it past the decoy spoons. I even try using magic words, like "Open Saysmommy!" But nothing works for long. You just can't get a baby to open his mouth when he doesn't want to. So I stop trying, and hope that baby is getting enough solid food into him to keep him healthy.

Eventually, baby reaches a point where he wants to only feed himself, or only wants to eat what the bigger people are eating. Then comes the challenge of finding appropriate finger foods for baby, or figuring out what parts of our dinner are appropriate for baby to eat. And there is the task of shoveling all the soggy Cheerios out of the highchair before they harden, and gathering the other remnants of soft vegetables, bits of meat, pasta and cheese up from the floor around the chair after he has finished.

Finally a child reaches a point where he can eat just about everything. And suddenly he decides he doesn't want to. He doesn't like lasagna, just spaghetti with red sauce. He doesn't like hot dogs unless they're cut like octopus. He likes sweet and sour chicken the first three times I make it, and then will never eat it again. Green beans are only edible when dipped in Ranch dressing. Apples can only be eaten when cut into 16ths. Olives, while fun to wear on each finger, are gross to eat, and so any dish that contains olives is contaminated and therefore can not be eaten. I still cook dinner every night, but it seems like most nights, I spend an hour in the kitchen making food that only Steven and I eat. So why do I bother? My children would be happy living on jam sandwiches and cheese sticks.

Some day, I'll have a daughter and three teenage boys, who, I imagine, will need to eat large amounts of food to support their growth and maintain high energy levels. Then, I'm sure I'll be complaining that they eat me out of house and home. But right now, I'd just be happy if they would eat without complaining.

Mom's 5:45pm Tuesday Night Blues
Tuesday 1/24/2006 5:45 PM

[These words haunted my head last night. It really happened, and this is what I really thought. I wrote them down with pen and paper then, pretty much the same way I thought them. I typed them and posted them today. -Wednesday 1/25/2006 12:55pm]

Gazing out the window like the bars of my cell
I chose this life but it's not going well.
Josh got hurt, his lip is bleeding.
John is crying because Hannah is teasing.
The baby has been sick and crying all day.
There is dinner to make and laundry to fold.
The phone rings for Steven but he'll be late coming home.
My head aches and I'm feeling tired.
I'm stretched out thin and the kids are wired.
Hannah says I don't love her, but I do.
I feel like I'm singing the blues.

Hannah wants help on the computer
Josh needs snacks and drinks of water
(Why does he like to stand on my toes?)
The house is a mess and I've no chance to clean
between nursing and rocking and potty training
"Listen to me!" "No, come help me!"
"Get me a snack!" "Josh broke my thing!"
"You don't love me!" "I hate lasagna!"
"Do I have to?" "Why can't I?" I don't wanna!

I battle all day so I can get to bed and rest
But tomorrow I have to get up early...
    to go through it...
         all over...
              again.

Some Sober Thoughts on Families
Monday 1/16/2006 12:43 PM

Yesterday I received the news that a friend of mine had been backing out of the driveway in her car with three children, when she was hit by another car. The car caught on fire. My friend's daughter (near Hannah's age) was thrown from the car sustaining some injury. My friend also was injured, burned while trying to save her 3 year old son, and the other child from the neighborhood, who were both wearing seat belts. Both of these two children were killed. I don't know a lot of the details. I don't know how fast the other car was going. I don't know how badly the daughter was injured. I do know my friend was hoping to be able to leave the hospital today. My heart goes out to her and her family. I hope my friend and her daughter recover from their injuries. I hope and pray that they may receive comfort for the loss of their son, and I pray for the comfort of the other family who's child died in the accident.

Naturally my thoughts eventually turned to my own family. How would I feel if one of my children died? My friend and I have an advantage over some, in that we believe that we were each married to our own husband in the temple by the same authority that the Savior gave the Apostle Peter, to seal in heaven what he sealed on earth. And we believe that our families--husband, wife and children, have been sealed together, and that after we die we will still be a family. We will be able to see our loved ones again and parents will even be able to raise the children they lost in childhood. But even knowing this may seem a very small comfort when facing the remainder of one's life time without seeing a child's smiling face or hearing his voice. It is amazing how endearing little children can make themselves in so short a time, that even though we have only known them a few years, it can seem so hard to face separation from them. This is the second in my trio of close high school friends to have lost a child very young. I have yet to experience that kind of a loss.

I've lost all my grandparents, but they were old, and I had a feeling that for them, death might have been a relief from medical problems, or welcomed as an opportunity to rejoin their loved ones, many of whom had already passed beyond the veil. When John was a baby, I lost a cousin who was about my own age. He and his wife were driving back to college after Thanksgiving with their daughter, who is about Hannah's age, when their car hit black ice and spun into oncoming traffic. Both parents died, but their daughter survived. My heart then went out to their daughter, who very likely won't remember much about her parents as she grows older. Other acquaintances have completed their missions on this earth and passed on to the next stage of existence, but I have yet to face the death of a child or a parent, so I don't know how it would feel.

My thoughts also dwell on my own children. I spend so much time frustrated with them because John isn't getting dressed in the morning, or Hannah is talking back to me, or Joshua is making huge messes, or Peter isn't sleeping at night. At the same time I love them so much, that I find it very hard to imagine my life without each one of them. I frequently find myself asking Hannah, "What am I going to do with you?" and her answer invariably is, "Throw me in the trash can!" Of course I could never do it, because I love her too much. I hope they realize how much love I do feel for them, so if we are separated unexpectedly early, they will remember that they had a mother who loved them dearly.

While I find myself feeling overwhelmed with four children, I would never be able to select one to give away or send back. I don't want any of my children to die young. But I don't think my friend wanted her child to die either. She already lost one child when she went into labor prematurely. Why did she have to lose another? Why have I been so blessed to not have any problems in pregnancy, to still have all my children, for them all to be healthy? What major trial is the Lord hanging over my head to even out the balance? Why do I feel lucky and guilty and sorry and sad all at the same time?

I am praying for my friend and her family. I hope they are healed and comforted. And I pray for myself, that if I ever find myself in a similar situation, I will find the strength to continue on.

Why I Want My Kids to Hate Me
Wednesday 1/4/2006 10:44 AM

I know you read the title and are wondering why I want my kids to hate me. You may think that I have lost it, or given up on being a good mom. But I do have reasons. I'm thinking about this right now because I have recently become aware of a couple different families that have been struggling with different issues in their lives--issues that have caused them a lot of grief. And I am willing to let my kids to hate me in order to avoid these other problems.

I want my kids to hate me for loving for their Dad. They will be embarrassed when we hold hands in public. They will roll their eyes when we kiss in the kitchen. They will be frustrated when I support whatever their Dad tells them, and when he supports me. They won't be able to pit us against each other to achieve their own ends. They won't have our example to learn how to shout yell, manipulate, insult or demean. I want my kids to hate me for loving their Dad because that is how they will learn to love and care about others.

I want my kids to hate me for making them work. They will be mad at me for making them complete their homework and chores before they can play. They will think I'm crazy when I make them wash, dry and fold their own laundry. They will complain when I teach them to cook a meal and how to load a dishwasher. They already cry and scream when I make them stay in their room until it is clean. They will wonder why I make my sons clean the bathroom, and make my daughter take out the trash. I want my kids to hate me for making them work because that is how they will learn to work and someday they may appreciate the skills I taught them.

I want my kids to hate me for denying them material things. They will cry and complain when they don't get everything they see advertised on TV. They will feel neglected when they don't receive the latest fad when they ask for it. They will storm and rant when I tell them they must buy extras with their own money. They will complain when I encourage them to pay tithing and put aside money for college and a mission. They may feel deprived when they don't have the latest video game or the newest computer, or even their own cell phone or lap top. I want my kids to hate me for denying them material things because that is how they will learn to manage their own money and to value the things they have.

I want my kids to hate me for setting rules, and then enforcing them. They will cry when I confiscate toys they haven't taken care of. They will complain when they get time-outs for showing disrespect to others. They will be angry at me for making them hold my hand when we cross streets, and later they will be embarrassed when I come searching for them when they are out past curfew. I want my kids to hate me for setting rules, and then enforcing them, because that is how they will learn obedience and that their actions can have consequences that they can't choose.

I want my kids to hate me for being nosy. They will complain when I insist on meeting their friends, knowing where they are and who they are with. They will be annoyed when I monitor their use of the internet and speak with their teachers about how they are doing at school. I want my kids to hate me for being nosy because that is how they will learn that I care enough about them to want to keep them safe.

I want my kids to hate me for loving them. They may squirm when I hug them. They might resent the time I spend with them at a park or reading a book together. They will wonder when I spend the time to listen to their problems and struggles. They will be amazed when I offer a suggestion that actually helps. They will take for granted the meals, the last minute costumes, the chauffeur service, the tutoring, the nursing, and anything else I may do for them. But hopefully they will remember that I love them, someday after the hate is over.

The Making of The Calendar
Tuesday 12/27/2005 1:28

Those of you who are members of our family may know that for each of the last six years, we have created a calendar to give to our children's grandparents for Christmas. This calendar contains photos of the children taken throughout the year, and the calendar pages are personalized with the special dates, birthdays and anniversaries of the members of each side of the family. This calendar is a major endeavor, which usually takes much of my time from August to December.

Usually, the first step in creating the calendar is to find pictures of the children. The second step, usually, has been to choose a unifying theme, something to tie all the pictures together. This year we came up with a theme (Mother Goose Type Rhymes) early in the year, and then we set about trying to take pictures that would fit the theme. Here is the story of each page:

Cover
I took the picture of the kids lying with their heads together and was playing with the layer styles in Photoshop when I came up with this design for the cover. I had another idea for the cover that looked more like the cover of a fairytale book, but in the end we liked this one better. The gold frame was actually borrowed from the other cover idea I had.

January
This picture was a collage of five different pictures: Hannah (posing with empty hands), the violin (cropped from a photo found online), John (who was actually stepping over a small soccer ball), Peter (smiling at Hannah) and Joshua (who really does love to play with the broom). The grass and background was drawn from scratch. There are supposed to be stars in the sky, too, but they didn't come out well in some printings.

February
This was the last page to be completed, and it is also one of my favorites. It was November and we were nearing time to print and mail the calendars. I was still a page short, and desperate to find another poem that could be done easily. Looking through a book of Nursery Rhymes, I came across the "Ring Around the Rosies" rhyme, and it wasn't very hard to come up with the changes to personalize it. Taking the picture was the hard part. I couldn't get all four of them to stay in position for longer than 2 seconds. Finally, after about 5 attempts (and Joshua throwing a tantrum) I gave up. Later I was looking at the pictures I had, and realized that if I pieced a few of them together, I could come up with something. I began with a picture where Hannah and John looked good, except that the top of Hannah's head had been cut off. I found another picture and borrowed the top of Hannah's head from that one, and "pasted" it on to the original picture. Then I found a picture of Josh before the tantrum and pasted him into the original photo, and tried to make it look like he was holding Hannah's hand. Then I noticed that Peter was lying at an odd angle, so I rotated his body upwards a little so he fit better. And then I cut out the busy background behind John, added shadows of my other attempts to the borders and wound up with a picture that I really liked.

March
This picture is a combination of two photos: Hannah sitting in our blue recliner, and the three boys lying next to each other on the floor. I drew the wall, the throne, and the banner on the wall. The rug on the floor is actually the photo of the boys reversed with a twist.

April
As simple as this one is, it was very difficult to get a picture of Josh and John playing happily together on the lawn! This picture was taken several months after the inset with Peter.

May
This was just two pictures: The kids sitting on the playroom floor, and my shoe. And no, that is not all their toys. They have plenty more where those came from, mostly compliments of Grandma Hiatt.

June:
Not one of my favorites, this picture caused me the most difficulty. It consists of six photos: The grass (pattern-ized with Photoshop), the bush, Hannah (who really looks flat in the picture), John and Josh together, Peter (I like his picture), and the horse (with John and his cousin T.J. riding him and another relative leading him). I drew the wall and the sky.

July:
This was another of the last pictures to be completed. I asked John to build something out of Legos for me to take a picture, and the pyramid is what he built. He has many other ingenious looking creations, but he chose to stick to the simple for his picture. I drew the background, but it turned out darker than I had planned.

August
Every once in a while I got a candid picture that turned out much better than any posed ones. Originally we had a poem:

Little Josh Hiatt Sat really quiet
Eating his chocolate ice cream.
He tugged on his spoon which flew 'cross the room
and now there's a big mess to clean.

We even had a picture (posed) of him eating chocolate ice cream. Then it happened. One day after lunch I was sitting on the sofa nursing Peter. When I finished I stood up and turned around, and only then did I see Joshua, sitting happily on the kitchen table, eating an entire jar of peanut butter. I had to take a picture before gingerly removing his shirt so I could carry him off to the bath. I drew the peanut butter jar and lid for the poem.

September:
The idea was simple; trying to get a good picture that showed the piano and Hannah in a good light was not. I had to "erase" some things that were sitting on top of the piano.

October:
One of our favorites, this was also one of the easiest. It was just one picture of Peter hanging out inside a pumpkin, smiling at his mama while daddy took the picture. The only problem was that the picture was grainy, and I couldn't edit out the graininess, and no other pictures taken of the same subject were nearly as cute.

November:
This picture was fun to do. Each of the boys came from a different picture. The food came from the same photo as Josh, but everything else was drawn. The bubbles were an afterthought but I liked the effect.

December:
The last month is always a collage. This year I took almost every picture taken throughout the year and cut out the kids heads and pasted them into the collage. There are surprisingly few exact duplicates, and in general, the pictures are in chronological order, left to right, top to bottom for each child.

So that's our calendar for 2006. I wasn't able to see our parent's reactions when they opened their calendar this year, so I don't know if they liked it or what their thoughts were. I hope they liked it because a lot of effort went into it.

'Twas the Day Before Christmas Eve
Friday, 12/23/2005 4:48pm

It's Christmas Eve eve. Am I ready for Christmas? Here is my checklist to see where we stand:

Decorations:

Our tree is set up high on a table so it's not as accessible to Peter who has started to roll around.
The tree is decorated with colored lights, glass balls and crocheted snowflakes. There is even a small gold star on the top.
All six of our nativity scenes are set up and on display. (One of which is a Fisher Price set the kids play with.)
Our outdoor lights never made it up this year, and we never even put up our wreath, but I'm OK with that.

Presents:

We've bought or made gifts for children, spouse, parents and siblings.
All gifts are wrapped.
We've mailed or otherwise sent gifts to those who live far away.
We've received packages from grandparents, parents and siblings.
We hope the kids don't look too closely through our closet or under our bed or in the storage room in the garage for a couple more days and I hope Steven doesn't accidentally find his present that was too big and heavy for me to get into the house, let alone hide very well.
Steven is in charge of the stockings this year. I'm not sure what the status on those is, but I'm not letting myself worry about it.

Food:

We have a ham and green apples in the refrigerator, corn in the freezer and potatoes in the pantry. I still need to figure out the details for our Christmas dinner. (So far I'm thinking ham, creamed corn, mashed potatoes and apple pie. I still need a green vegetable. Maybe a pumpkin pie as well.)
We need to get the recipe and ingredients for Steven's mother's quiche for Christmas morning. (We got the recipe last year, but we can't find it now.)
We have two kinds of homemade cookies on the counter. We have a holiday platter sent by Steven's Grandpa full of cheeses and sausages and jams, and also a plate of goodies given to us by a neighbor.
We didn't make plates of goodies to deliver to friends this year, but we've been sick and haven't felt up to it. I'm OK with that, too.

Clothes:

Steven's Mom sent vests for the boys and a Christmas dress for Hannah.
Hannah's dress already needs mending. I hate to mend.

Music:

We've been listening to holiday music since November. We even purchased a new Christmas music CD this year.
I've had "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" running through my head for the last week.
I've been playing Christmas songs on the piano, and even Hannah has been trying to learn how to play "The Little Drummer Boy".

Things are coming together. I feel pretty ready. I still need to do some grocery shopping. I also need to find batteries for our camera! But at least all my shopping and wrapping is done so I can relax and enjoy the kid's nativity play Christmas Eve and go to bed early. Christmas morning I can enjoy opening gifts, singing in the Christmas program at church, a nice and easy dinner; a fun day to remember the most precious gift God has given us: His Son.

When My Kids Get Sick
Friday, 12/16/2005 1:39pm

I hate it when my kids are sick. When I'm sick, it's one thing, but when kids get sick, they are miserable, whiny, clingy, and definitely not fun. Especially babies.

When a baby doesn't feel well, he uses the only means of communication he has, which is crying. So you hear him crying, and you know that something is wrong, but figuring out what, exactly, can be a challenge. Is it a cold? Could it be an ear infection? Is he teething? But what should I do when Peter just seems miserable and besides a persistent fever there are no obvious symptoms? That's when I give him Tylenol, and if it doesn't get better after a few days, we trudge off to the doctor. The doctor listens with her stethoscope and soon comes up with a verdict. The first time it was an ear infection. Two weeks later, after trying to dose with antibiotics twice a day, he returns to the doctor and gets a clean bill of health, and the next day he starts going downhill again. Eventually we trudge back to the doctor. This time it's a respiratory virus, we just have to hose out his nose with saline and a syringe. But baby doesn't like that very much. And eventually he feels better, for a few days, before he gets another cold. Is seems like forever since he was really healthy, happy, and breathing freely.

When slightly older children get sick, it's still not fun. Even though Joshua is two, his vocabulary is still very limited, and he can't tell me exactly what's wrong. He cries a lot, wants me to hold him almost constantly, and takes very long naps. But I can't tell if his throat is sore, if his head aches, or if it's his stomach. He doesn't have an obvious cold, but whatever it is lingers on and on, and he is fussy and clingy, and wants to be held all the time. I encourage the naps, and give Tylenol when he seems particularly uncomfortable, and I'm forever asking, "Does your head hurt?" "no." Does your mouth hurt?" "no." "Does your belly hurt?" "no" "Does your elbow hurt?" "no"... and since he doesn't yet say "yes" I'm not sure my asking is doing any good. And he won't just point to wherever it doesn't feel good.

My two oldest children can talk. They do tell me their stomach hurts and finally they can tell me soon enough to get them a bowl before they throw up, usually. And usually they can get most of it into the bowl. But they couldn't have a normal 24 hour flu. Hannah throws up twice one evening, and so I keep her home from school the next day so she can play and not act sick in the least. John throws up that same evening, is fine the entire next day, and then throws up the following morning. Is there an "every other day" flu? I don't know.

When my kids are sick, and when they have been sick off and on for over a month, I begin to get a sense of desperation. I don't know what to do with them. I wish with all my heart that I could banish illness from my home and just get over it. But I can't. And it just goes on and on and on.

Overcoming Depression
Tuesday 12/13/2005 2:20pm

The last month and a half have been difficult ones for me. I went through a period of depression and that was hard. I was so near tears all the time, exasperated and frustrated with my kids, and overwhelmed with everything I thought I had to do. For a long time, I didn't even know why. Was it just baby blues or was I really incapable of caring for four children?

I started turning to my family for help. I called my sister, Lindy, to ask about how she gets all her children going in the morning. I called my Mom to find out how to deal with my daughter who was driving me nuts. I chatted with another sister, Kristy, to discuss our babies, and commiserated about sleepless nights, short naps and other trials that come with having infants. (Her daughter is a few months younger than Peter.)

Eventually I realized that part of my feelings of being overwhelmed was because Steven was gone so much. He was busy with work, HOA meetings, his church responsibilities (as a counselor for the young men and scout master) and other interests, and I wasn't getting the sanity breaks and relief I needed. Once I figured this out, Steven and I were able to talk about it and things have been better. He was able to cut back on a few of his activities, and he even took a couple days off work when I was sick to help. So things began to get better.

Another thing I did was simplify my life where I could. I didn't try to put out all my Christmas decorations this year, just the nativity scenes. My tree isn't loaded down with the usual hodgepodge of hand-me-down decorations, just the ones that I like. I cut back some of my plans for homemade Christmas gifts, and concentrated my efforts on just one.

I also received help from a lady in our ward at church. She was assigned to be my visiting teacher when Peter was born, but besides bringing a blanket and a meal the first week, she wasn't able to visit again for the next four months until my visiting teachers were changed. In Relief Society a couple weeks ago she loaned me a copy of I Didn't Plan to Be a Witch by Linda Eyre, telling me she had thought about me, and had thought I might like to read the book. I read it, and quickly felt comforted. I'm not the only one who feels this way! Other women have similar problems and difficulties and pull out their broomsticks once in a while! I'm trying to take some of the advice she offers, and realized I was already doing some of the things she suggested. And I'm grateful for the dear sister who shared this book with me. (I know my Mom had this book, but I never read it before, and Mom lives too far away for me to peruse her bookshelves now.)

I also received a wonderful help in my neighbor, Mary Lee. She is a grandmother, probably in her late 60s, or early 70s, and lives up the slope from us, with her front door facing ours. Her husband passed away in January, and I think she might have been a little lonely, but anyway, last week she called me and asked if she could come down and watch the boys for me when I take Hannah to school and go pick her up. She said she hated to see me taking all the kids out in the cold, twice a day, and she'd like to help. That is a wonderful help!!! Now I don't need to stress as much about getting all the boys dressed and finding their shoes and coats and stuff; I can concentrate on getting Hannah ready, and just call Mary Lee when we're about ready to go. She comes down the hill, watches the boys while I take Hannah, and when I get back she heads home again. In the afternoon, I don't have to wake up my boys from naps and find shoes and coats all over again. I don't have to choose between A) leaving them alone in the car while I go find Hannah alone, and B) trying to keep all three boys together while we all go find her, with Josh stopping to look at everything along the way and John running way off ahead of us. Mary Lee is an angel and a super great help to me. She enjoys playing with the kids, and my day is tons easier.

I feel better now. I'm enjoying my children more, and feeling less stress. I appreciate the help I've received from others. I realize now that even starting this blog was therapeutic for me, serving as a vent for some of my frustrations and discouragement. I'm grateful for all those who helped, and those who continue to help. Thank you!

Creation Versus Evolution: My Humble Opinion
Wednesday 12/7/2005 1:22 pm

Last night, I read the first five pages of the Book of Genesis in the Old Testament. They deal primarily with the creation of the world. As I read, I couldn't help but think about the great debate: whether the earth was created by divine intelligence, or if it is the result of evolution and other natural processes. I thought I'd share my personal view, which is a combination of a lot of other theories and ideas that I've heard and read through out the years. (and at the same time, organize it all in my own head!)

Someone once said something like where religion and science appear to disagree, it is because our understanding of one or the other or both is faulty. I believe that this is largely the case with the creation vs. evolution debate. I think if both sides would relax their definitions a little, they could find that actual fact lies somewhere in the middle. Here is my understanding of the sides of the issue: (please forgive me if I'm wrong.)

Many creationists seem to believe that God created the world from nothing. He snapped his fingers or something, and suddenly where nothing was a moment before, something now existed. Through this process, the earth came into being, the sun, moon and starts were born, and plants and animals suddenly appeared from nothing. This process occurred in only seven days; that is, seven rotations of the earth.

Evolutionists, on the other hand, appear to believe that the earth came into being as the result of a giant explosion trillions of years ago, and that from some combination of chance and luck, life emerged from a primordial soup, and eventually plants and animals emerged, growing gradually, generation after generation, with those species with the best chance of surviving passing their genes to the next generation, until eventually we reached our present condition. That we now exist as sentient beings is an amazing feat of nature.

My own philosophy is that the truth lies somewhere between the two. I believe in a God who loves us as his children, and so wanted to provide a home where we could live. I believe that "matter" or "the stuff of the universe" has always existed in some form or another. And I believe that God's role was to "organize" that matter into what it is today. I believe that God has a greater understanding of the laws of nature than any mortal man has ever had. More than that, I believe that "matter" has some minute element of intelligence, in that it can and does obey what God asks it to do. For example, if God asked a bunch of "stuff" to gather together and form a world, I believe that it would. If God asked some particles to form themselves into hydrogen or oxygen atoms and then combine to form a molecule of water, I believe that it would happen. I believe that God lovingly directed each stage and step along the way, and that the present state of being is not by chance at all. In other words, I believe that the earth evolved under divine direction.

(The idea of God instructing the particles of "stuff" may seem a little strange to some. But if you think about it, it makes many of the miracles Christ performed while on the earth much clearer. If he could tell particles of water what to do and how to change, why couldn't he ask it to change into wine or to calm in the midst of a storm? If he understood the particles that make up the cells of skin and bone, why could he not ask them how to change, to heal, to function the way they should? If he understood the atoms and molecules that make up fish and bread, why couldn't he ask them to multiply to sufficient quantities to feed five thousand people? He understands the natural laws so well that nature obeys him.)

A thought about the time involved. It is my understanding that God does not experience time the same way we do. (If you've ever read Kurt Vonnegut's book, Slaughterhouse 5, you'll have some idea of what it might be like to be outside of time.) Also remember that before the sun was "created" there weren't days and nights as we know them now. In the Bible, where God completes a task and calls it the "first day" or whatever, I believe that he was only referring to creative periods, kind of like checking off a to do list and saying that the time it took to complete each task was a "day". I don't know how long it actually took for the entire creation process, maybe it was trillions of years, or maybe, with divine intervention some parts of the process were sped up somehow. But I also don't believe the entire world, plants, animals and man were all created in one week as we mark time now.

So those are my thoughts on the subject: Evolution under Divine Direction.

When Mom is Recovering From Being Sick
Monday 12/5/2005 2:07pm

I've been meaning to write this since Friday, sort of an addendum to my last comment. Friday afternoon, I left Joshua in the kitchen to finish his lunch and I came back to the office to do some other things that needed doing. Later Josh went to his room and eventually went to sleep on his bed. I didn't realize what he had been up to until it was time to pick up Hannah from school. I happened to go into the kitchen for something, and that's when I saw his handiwork.

I had left the box of Peter's baby oatmeal mix on the kitchen counter, next to the bowl and spoon, after Peter had eaten all he wanted. Now, there was oatmeal on the counter, there was oatmeal on the floor, and there was oatmeal in each of the four drawers between the counter and the floor. There was even oatmeal all over the chair that he had pushed over from the dining room table so that he could reach the counter. Of course he couldn't have left it with just dry oatmeal flakes. He had to pump some hand soap he had found on the the countertop on top of it all. When I found the mess, the box was empty except for the baby spoon that he had dropped into it.

What better welcome to health could I have received, than a fun mess to clean up?

When Mom Gets Sick
Friday 12/2/2005 9:21am

It isn't fun being sick. When I was a child it wasn't much fun either. My Mom would tell me that if I was too sick to go to school, I must be too sick to watch TV, or do anything else fun. I had to stay in bed all day, and it got pretty boring. When I might have considered faking sickness to avoid a test or an assignment I hadn't completed, the thought of having to spend the entire day in bed, as well as all the make-up work I'd have to do when I returned to school, would motivate me to forget it.

As a mother, I hate getting sick. It's not just the aches and pains and misery of the sickness itself, it's not even having to stay in bed all day. (In fact I enjoy that part now, and wish I could spend more time in bed!) The trouble with getting sick now is the work that piles up on me while I'm too sick to do it.

Tuesday morning I woke up with a sore throat. That's not unusual for me: my nose is generally stuffed up so after breathing through my mouth all night my throat is generally a little sore in the morning. But that morning it seemed worse than usual and as I got up, showered and dressed I realized that it was much worse than usual. My head also ached. But being a Mom, I still got my children up, made muffins for breakfast and got my husband off to work and my daughter, Hannah, to school. Tuesday is my laundry day, so I started working on getting the laundry done. By the end of the day, I had gotten four loads of laundry into the washer, three of those into the dryer, and two of those onto the couch to be folded and put away. I had taken an hour long nap after lunch, and tried to rest on my bed most of the afternoon, listening to my children play, answering their questions, looking at the things they made, and hoping my husband would come home soon so he could make dinner for me. When he did finally come home, the wonderful man sent me to bed, finished making dinner and took care of the kids and got them to bed. I was sound asleep before he came to bed that night.

Wednesday I woke up feeling even worse. Not only was my throat sore and my head aching, but my entire body seemed to ache. When my husband offered to stay home from work, I agreed. Normally I hate to ask people to do things for me, and I felt a little guilty because I knew he had a project he had been working on that he wanted to finish by the end of the month, but I didn't know how I would manage another day by myself. So Steven got the children up and dressed. He took Hannah to school, and later took Peter to the doctor since Peter, too, had been sick and had a temperature that morning of 104 degrees. (Peter has a viral respiratory infection.) Steven also folded most of the two loads on the couch as well as the one in the dryer, and most of what had been folded had been put away. He took care of the kids, picked up Hannah from school, made lunch and dinner and put the kids to bed that night. I spent the day resting, sleeping, and trying very hard to get better. That night when I removed the sweatshirt I had been wearing all day I noticed a rash covering my chest. I looked in my medical reference book to see what it said about sore throats and rashes, and the only thing I could find was a comment that if a sore throat occurred with a rash, the patient should see a doctor in case it was scarlet fever, and antibiotics were required to get rid of it. Sure that I had scarlet fever, I went to bed that night thinking I'd have to see a doctor the following day.

A note about doctors: I don't like going to them. I'll go to my OB if I'm pregnant, and I'll take my children to get their immunizations, or if I think one is really sick and doesn't seem to be getting better after a few days. But other than that, I'd prefer to avoid doctors as much as possible. I've been to two doctors other than OBs in the seven years I've been married. Once to a dermatologist to have a basal cell on my cheek removed, and once to a regular doctor to have an ingrown toe nail removed when it was too painful to walk on. I don't even have a regular doctor here in Colorado, and so Wednesday night I went to bed overwhelmed with the thought that I'd have to find a doctor the next day.

Thursday morning (yesterday) the rash on my chest was much fainter. But my throat was still sore and my head still ached, and the rest of my body still ached. Steven, being the wonderful husband he is, stayed home from work again so he could take me to the doctor. But first thing, after getting Hannah to school, we looked on the internet to make sure that what I had was really scarlet fever. There we found out that scarlet fever mostly affects young people, and that the rash feels like sandpaper, and spreads throughout the body. After reading that, I was pretty sure I didn't have it. My rash was fairly smooth, just blotchy red spots, and it was mostly on my chest and it was fading. Now I think it was probably some kind of heat rash. So I got out of going to the doctor. I was also feeling a little better. For one thing I wasn't as tired as I had been the day before, and was able to spend more time sitting up. Steven spent a lot of time that day outside, clipping the dead and dying plants and tidying up for the winter.

Last night I didn't sleep very well. Maybe I'd napped too much yesterday and wasn't tired, but for whatever reason, I spent a lot of time lying awake thinking, and when I did sleep I dreamed of assassins. This morning I was determined to be better. I got up at 6, showered and dressed and loaded the dishwasher with all the dishes we used yesterday. I also made blueberry muffins for breakfast. (We couldn't have cereal because all the bowls were dirty.) I woke the kids, got my husband off to work, and drove Hannah to school. And then I came home and looked around. There are piles of laundry, still half folded, on the floor in the living room, along with Legos, Fisher-Price people and other toys, books, and throw pillows. The couch has piles of socks and washcloths and shirts that need hangers are draped over the back. The kids room has piles of dirty clothes, toys and books all over the floor. There is still a load of laundry in the dryer. The kitchen floor is filthy and needing mopping, and the counters need a good scrub. The water in the fish tank hasn't been changed in over a week. My head doesn't ache very much any more (unless I think about it), and my throat just feels like the glands are swollen and painful, but I can swallow more comfortably now. But now I suffer the real consequence of being sick--all the make up work. It almost makes me want to be sick again. (Now that I've written about it, I should probably go do something about it.)

Finding a Babysitter
Tuesday 11/22/2005 1:52pm

If there is one thing I hate doing, it's finding a babysitter. I'm not sure why. I enjoy getting a break and going out without the kids once in a while. In fact, I have to get out without the kids once in a while, just to keep my sanity. So why don't I like finding babysitters?

For one thing, I don't like asking other people for things. It doesn't matter whether I'm asking them to watch my kids for a couple hours or asking them to hold my purse for fifteen seconds while I strap a child into a stroller. I guess I'm just shy or something. And I don't like using the telephone. Yeah, I know it's much more convenient than having to run five miles to deliver messages in person, but I feel like when I call people on the phone, I'm asking them to drop whatever they happen to be doing at that moment and come answer the phone. I went through a time where it seemed like anytime I called any one, no matter what the time of day, I always caught them at a bad time. Either they were sleeping, or eating or on another line, or whatever, and I always felt bad. So I don't like calling for babysitters on the telephone. I do it, steeling myself each time I pick up the phone, but I can only do it a few times before I lose my nerve and give up.

Also, I'm a little bit particular about who I'll let watch my kids. When we lived within a 10 minute drive of both sets of grandparents, finding babysitters wasn't a big deal. There were my parents, my husband's parents, and many of our siblings who lived nearby, and any one of which we felt comfortable watching our kids for a while. Then we moved 3000 miles away from them. So, now our nearest family is 40 minutes away. That's a bit far for us to go for a babysitter for an hour. So who else would we be willing to leave responsible for our children? Well, members of our church. Looking for babysitters among church members gives us the advantage of knowing that their value system will be similar to our own, and that they won't be smoking around our kids or offering them alcohol or other dangerous substances. Sometimes we can persuade young couples to trade babysitting with us. There are some teenagers I would trust with our children, but they expect payment for their services, and we can't afford to hire them very often.

The third difficulty when it comes to finding babysitters is finding one that is available when we need one. Since the people we trust to baby-sit for us are members of our church, it's hard to find a babysitter for church functions because everyone we would ask is either going to the function themselves, or has another reason for not going to the function. And the teenagers are frequently already babysitting for someone else by the time I get around to asking. So I end up having to make several phone calls, and frequently I give up and either don't go to the event, or I take all my kids along with me. I look forward to the day when my children will be old enough and mature enough to watch themselves, when my days of searching for the elusive babysitter will be over.

Why am I doing this: Introducing the kids
Monday, November 14, 2005 12:11pm

I don't fancy myself as a writer. Sure, I used to write stories and stuff when I was a kid, but that seems a long time ago, now that I have kids of my own. I guess the reason I'm doing this is because I need an outlet. I have to tell someone about how I feel and right now I'd rather type it in an impersonal blog that might never be read than annoy my friends and family with my constant chatter and questions about my children.

A bit about me: I grew up as the second of eleven children. I babysat a lot as a teenager. I always wanted to be a mother more than any other occupation. I'm a college graduate, with a BS in Family Science. When I got married at age 23 I thought I knew something about being a parent. What I've learned since then is that I still have a lot to learn. My children are wonderful and cute and talented and smart and sometimes trying and frequently annoying and often difficult, but I love them. I'm trying to be a good parent for them, but some times I wonder what I got myself into.

Hannah, my six year old, loves to draw. She also loves to write, and between the two activities, she can easily go through a ream of paper in a month. She just started 1st grade in September. Last year, she was very ready to start kindergarten, but her birthday was one day too late, and they wouldn't let her go to school. So I taught her at home last year. She learned to read and do simple math. She already knew colors and shapes. We had park days twice a week, and went to church on Sundays, so she got to interact with other kids. But I wasn't officially home schooling her. That would have required keeping track of the days we spent learning, and after I became pregnant (in October of last year) I would frequently forget trying to teach her anything formal. I'd let her do her workbooks when she felt like it, and she learned, but I don't feel like I was being a very good teacher.
So this year when I registered her for school, they told me she had to go to kindergarten because she was one day too young to go to 1st grade. Once her teacher had tested her to find out what level she was at, she convinced the principal, and then the two of them convinced the district person who actually had some authority and they bumped her up to 1st grade. The whole process took about a week.
Hannah is doing well in school. She seems to have friends and doesn't have much difficulty with the homework, if I can just get her to do it. That's the hard part. She comes home from school and just wants to be silly. She teases her little brothers, ignores me, and acts up. The noise at home multiplies incredibly when she gets home. I try to give her more attention, but it's hard with her little brothers competing for my attention at the same time.

My four year old, John, is very smart. His favorite thing to do is build things. His favorite toys right now are Legos, but he also loves his blocks and Kid K'nex. (Think large, plastic tinker toys.) He can spend hours building homes for marbles or other toys, each home unique from any other he has ever built.
Somehow while I was teaching Hannah to read, John learned as well. He likes to show off this skill when ever he has a chance. He can read just as well as Hannah, if not better. This causes another dilemma. He is supposed to start kindergarten next year. I want him to be in kindergarten next year, in spite of the fact that he can already read. My worries are that he is going to be bored when others are learning things that he already knows. My reasoning is that he isn't as mature as Hannah was. He is a very emotional boy who throws tantrums at the slightest provocation. (Like when one of his siblings breaks one of his Lego constructions.) He would also be an entire year younger than the other students in his class if he skipped kindergarten. So my plan for him is to just not teach him any more. He doesn't write much yet, so maybe he will still have kindergarten level things to learn next year.

My two year old, Joshua, is adorable. He has a winning smile and a mischievous grin. He know sign language for a few dozen words, everything from "more" to "elephant" but his spoken vocabulary amounts to less than ten. He says "Mom" and "Dad" and "me", but other than that he only says words like "uh uh" and "oh oh". I imagine it is because his older siblings talk non-stop, and because he is so good at communicating what he wants without speaking.
Joshua is also a magnet for trouble. In the last four months, some of the more memorable moments include when he coated his body in peanut butter, the time he hit his older brother in the back of his head with a saw, (resulting in a series of puncture wounds and big fright) and the time I discovered him sitting in his baby brother's crib, hitting him in the face with a toy train. He isn't malicious, but he is slow to learn that he has to be gentle with the baby, and that other people feel pain.

Peter is my youngest, born in June. He is a very good baby. He is content to lie on the floor for a half hour at a time and watch the rest of the family. He has a cute smile, and isn't particular yet about who holds him. He sleeps well, usually waking me only once in the middle of the night. He rolls from his stomach to his back, but not from back to stomach yet.
He is also my fastest growing baby. Not yet five months old, he is already wearing his 12 month clothes, and all my other children were still wearing 3-6 month clothes at this age, and for another month or so. He wakes up in the morning and just looks bigger to me.
Usually Peter is an angel, but last week he got an ear infection and wasn't sleeping at night, and that really wore me down. Now that he is on antibiotics he seems to be doing better. I just have to figure out how to get rid of the stubborn cold that gave him the ear infection in the first place.

So those are my kids. I also have to mention my wonderful husband, Steven. He is an accountant, and a perfectionist, and a sweetheart. He has allowed me to stay home with my children from when Hannah was born. He is very good with the kids, and very supportive for me. He allows me to take sanity breaks when I need them, and every once in a while surprises me by preparing a meal or doing the dishes.

So that's the family as we stand right now. But check back because new things are always coming up.

MaeLyn's Musings

The Color Coding of the Cups Monday 1/21/2008 2:44pm

Predestination vs. Foreordination Thursday 5/17/2007 12:09pm

Some thoughts on Adam and Eve Wednesday 5/16/2007 12:06pm

The Search for Truth Tuesday 5/15/2007 12:09pm

Adventures with Kids: Toothpaste Tuesday 11/21/2006 2:56pm

Things I am Grateful For on Sundays Sunday 5/28/2006 2:39pm

Adventures in My New Calling Thursday 3/30/2006 4:25pm

Why do I bother? Friday 3/3/2006 12:44pm

The Pacifier Problem Monday 1/30/2006 10:36 AM

Feeding the Family Wednesday 1/25/2006 1:15 PM

Mom's 5:45pm Tuesday Night Blues Tuesday 1/24/2006 5:45 PM

Some Sober Thoughts on Families Monday 1/16/2006 12:43 PM

Why I Want My Kids to Hate Me Wednesday 1/4/2006 10:44 AM

The Making of The Calendar Tuesday 12/27/2005 1:28

'Twas the Day Before Christmas Eve Friday, 12/23/2005 4:48pm

When My Kids Get Sick Friday, 12/16/2005 1:39pm

Overcoming Depression Tuesday 12/13/2005 2:20pm

Creation Versus Evolution: My Humble Opinion Wednesday 12/7/2005 1:22 pm

When Mom is Recovering From Being Sick Monday 12/5/2005 2:07pm

When Mom Gets Sick Friday 12/2/2005 9:21am

Finding a Babysitter Tuesday 11/22/2005 1:52pm

Why am I doing this: Introducing the kids Monday, November 14, 2005 12:11pm

The Color Coding of the Cups
Monday 1/21/2008 2:44pm