12 things i learned in 2014

2014 was the best of times and the worst of times. Didn't I say that about 2013, too? Anyway--there's a lot of this year I love thinking back on and a lot I would like to forget...except for the lessons they taught me and the character they shaped.

Here are 12 things I learned this year:

1. HOMESCHOOLING IS AWESOME

The year I took in 2013 to homeschool my E through 8th grade made a HUGE difference as he headed into high school. He is organized, motivated, on task, and enjoying learning. He went from failing most of his classes to all A's and B's.

I am continuing to homeschool J and L, now 3rd and 5th grade. We do a hybrid where twice a week they attend a charter school learning center to study History and Science, and the other three days a week are spent at home learning everything else. It's the perfect mix of socialization, class work, mentoring, self-directed learning, and Pokemon trading at lunch. 

So, we have four kids in public school and two homeschooling (with one wishing she could homeschool but we don't get to pick for her--bummer). It is the perfect fit for our life, and I love it!

2. I AM NOT INVINCIBLE

I have spent so much time pushing myself further/harder, always healing quickly, that I was surprised at just how much injury plagued me this year. I had a torn adductor brevis muscle that hobbled me for a good month, a wonky elbow that still gives me pain, sore ankles, strained foot arches, a numb hand, two ear infections, and a nearly broken foot. I still haven't figured out if that means I need to work out more, less, or differently, but I have learned that I have to give myself proper down time or pay the price in re-injury. On the plus side, down time means books, snuggles, and chocolate.

3. I LOVE THE BEACH!

I spent a LOT of time at the beach this year. I have two kiddos who took to boogie boarding and wanted to go all the time. Plus, with the uncommonly hot summer we had and no air conditioning in our house, it was the best place to go and cool down. I love seeing it at different times of day, love searching for shells and sea glass at low tide, love the salty tang of the air, the feel of  water swirling around my ankles, love the beachy curls it creates in my hair. A good barefoot run on the sand is a free heel exfoliating. Also, beach people are really, really nice.

4. THINGS ALWAYS GET BETTER

I think the most frustrating thing about 2014 was that it seemed we could NOT catch a break! As soon as we'd knock one problem down, another would pop up, often at the same time that the problem we had just fixed came unfixed. I have no idea how we got through some of what we did...but we did. Usually at the last minute and almost always with the help of friends, family, and angels on earth. Here was a thought from my journal about our cycle of woes:

"It's one of those days that comes after a long stretch of tough days. It feels, in fact, as if our life has been playing a game of "what can go wrong today" for the last month--car problems, tax problems, school problems, gossip problems, house problems, work problems, health problems, etc. etc. Not that our blessings weren't always there to soften the blows, but when your reserves of faith and patience get all used up, even listing your blessings feels more like making a hit list of what is going to be tried next than an exercise in gratitude. However, today feels like everything is going to be ok, even though nothing has changed. My family is amazing. My life is exceptional. My body is strong. My talents are better than your average bear. I live where I can hear the ocean. Little girls think I'm Ariel. Things are going to work out. They always were going to. I just needed a little clear thinking to remember."

I hope 2015 will be a little less stressful, but I go into knowing that as long as I am working my hardest and holding to the faith, everything works out.

5. I SHOULDN'T GO INTO THE T-SHIRT MAKING BUSINESS...

Seriously. Forgot the T.   I was supposed to be the GANGSTA of  love. Mr. Perfect wouldn't let me throw it out though. It's in a place we can see and  laugh about it regularly. 

6.  YOU CAN'T BEAT A CALIFORNIA SUNSET

'Nuff said.

7. OUR KIDS ARE GOOD SPORTS

We dress them up, we teach them silly songs, we make movies with them and have them puppet creatures and they are (nearly) always on board for the adventure. It often feels like we are raising the Little Rascals. We wouldn't change a thing!

8. HAVING GIRLS IS FUN!

I really, really like being a mom to girls. I'm still learning but they are patient with me. I love them dearly.

9. THE FAMILY THAT VOLUNTEERS TOGETHER...

We had a lot of opportunities this year to take the kids and do service. Sometimes they were more excited than others, but they were always happy they went at the end of it. This particular picture is of us digging up wild mustard and planting milkweed to attract butterflies to the area just behind the therapeutic riding center. Every time we pass by it, the kids remember and  are proud of their work (which has now grown into a lovely, lush area). 

10. PUBLISHING A BOOK IS AWESOME!!

I'm the writer who married the artist--but he still got his book published before mine :). It was AWESOOOOOME! We loved driving around to various bookstores and spying it. The launch party sold out. Amazon sold out. The reviews have been great. Kids love it. Book two of the series comes out in June. We can't wait to do it all again! My day for publishing will come sooner or later and it won't be nearly as colorful, but that's the awesome thing about marrying someone just like you who is also different.

11. I AM STILL IN LOVE WITH BOISE

Even with all the beaches and warm golden sunshine California has been seducing me with, nothing can replace my beloved Boise. So, so happy to have finally got to go back (after nearly two years!). Mr. Perfect loves it too. We have got to find some way to live between both places. The answer seems like money. But that seems like the answer to a lot of things. In the mean time, I cherish the perfect weekend I spent there revisiting all my old favorite places. They hadn't forgotten about me. Boise is kind like that.

12. AND DOG MAKES US A FAMILY OF 9

When your oldest is 17, and you realize you only have a year left with him at home, and the only thing he asks for is a dog for Christmas, and he has asked for one since he was 10, and you can hardly say no to his big green eyes, and some friends set you up with the perfect dog looking for a new home, and even offer to drive all the stinking way to Utah to bring the dog back, and then your kids have the best surprise ever Christmas morning...

You are happy.

A nearly perfect life just got a nearly perfect dog added to it.

2014--I won't be sad to see you go, but I thank you for all you have given me. And all you have taken in the form of pride, fear, and stubbornness. I pray 2015 will be full of more pleasant surprises, but ever softened by the experiences of the past year.

dear me 20 years ago...

Twenty years ago, on July 5,1994, Brad proposed to me. It's not a hard day to remember, being the day after 4th of July. We were in Portland, visiting his brother and sister-in-law after a long spring and summer apart, with him working on his family farm and me staying behind at college to work at the frozen yogurt shop.

Twenty years ago today, I was saying yes to my forever, so happy I wanted to shout to everyone how in love with this man I was. Today, I was texting with the same man about shuffling around child support payments while the boys are visiting him for the summer. 

I woke up earlier than usual this morning, my throat dry and sore from all the smoke ingested last night, my heart racing from a bad dream. I quietly put on my running clothes and shoes and slipped out of the house to fit in my five mile run/walk before the day got too hot.

On my way home, I stopped at the store for groceries and a big glass of cold water from the Starbucks kiosk (well, and maybe a piece of the pumpkin bread too...). I sat at one of their tables and drank slowly, suddenly picturing myself from twenty years ago sitting with me--both of us as surprised as the other over such an unlikely meeting. Nineteen year old me asks if she can ask me a few questions. I say yes.

Q: Why is your hair so red?
A: Because it got so gray. Don't worry, you'll learn to love it and it will remind you of Grandma Annie and Grandma Engen and their fearless red hair.

Q: How did you get so fat?
A: Because right now, dear, even though you're just starting to realize it--you  have an eating disorder. 103 pounds is not a healthy weight for someone of your height and frame. See how all your size 2 clothes hang off you? We've also had four boys--big ones. But we run five miles almost every day, including today. See how muscled our legs are? See how we still have a nice chiseled waist? You'll still get down on your body sometimes, but it has treated you well and carried you through a lot, so be kind to it. And go eat something that's not air popped popcorn, for goodness sake!

Q: What is that you're looking at?
A: It's an "iPhone." I'm looking at something called "Facebook" on the "Internet." It's basically like having all the world's knowledge in your pocket, but you'll have to sift through a lot of dumb stuff, too. Use it wisely. Don't let it dominate your "offline" life. And please "duck face" as little as possible, ok?

Q: Where are we? 
A: In a grocery story in Huntington Beach, California, where we live now. Just three miles from the beach. Sniff the air. Can you smell it? The ocean smell is everywhere.

Q: Why did we move to California?
A: We followed our heart. We're really good at that. It's why we're still writing, too.

Q: Where is Brad?
A: Well, he's not here. It's a long, sad story that I don't want to tell you right now or you may  not go through with marrying him--and you HAVE to do that because there are four of the most amazing spirits waiting for you to get them to Earth. I won't lie, the next twenty years of your life are going to be some of the most beautiful and most excruciating you will ever pass through. You will have to hold to your faith like it is the only thing that will save you, because it will be. You'll feel so alone at times but you're not, not really. And in the end, I promise all you have will be enough. You will be so loved. And so wise. And though you may wonder at times if you made the right choices, if you could go back and change things and do things differently--just let it all go. No need to fret about things you can't change when you've tried your best. Feel the air passing in and out of your body in the moment and know it's all worth it. It is.
  

to mom's everywhere, i high five-fist bump you!

When I started my journey of motherhood over sixteen years ago, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never changed a diaper, never been exposed to a baby crying for more than a few passing minutes, never thought about varying theories of childhood discipline. I'd never even taken Home Ec and had to carry one of those pretend babies around. The only thing I knew was that I wanted a baby...and now I had one...and I was totally in love...and totally committed to whatever lay ahead.

But in all my idea of not knowing how to mother, I never dreamed there would be so MANY ways I would have to mother.

Over the course of the next nine years, one baby soon turned to two, to three, to four; each with such different little personalities and needs. During those years, I was your typical super SAHM -- organizing play dates in the park, volunteer teaching the toddler music class at the library, homeschooling two gifted sons. I had a mini-van I could drive with one hand while retrieving a dropped binky with the other. I learned how to cook from watching Martha Stewart Living, longing to have my own backyard chickens and an unlimited budget to decorate my dream home.

Then, at year ten of my motherhood journey--about the time I was learning that mothering pre-teens was going to be different than mothering easy to entertain littles-- I got divorced and became a single mother. I hated referring to myself as that ("single mother") because it sounded as if I had never made the choice to marry, or had made the choice to divorce (neither of which were true), a term that often brought with it built-in sympathy or scorn, neither of which I wanted. But that's what the world chose to categorize me as for the next five years--like it or not.

During that time, I was the most driven, focused, and exhausted I had ever been. I went back to school and worked my hiney off to graduate with honors. I learned how to live on a shoestring budget and on rarely more than four hours of sleep. I worked five jobs while facing the health fallout that comes with my heart condition of mitral-valve stenosis. I had to learn to build a working, civil relationship with my ex-husband despite terribly hurt feelings, a lack of trust, and court-ordered money that wasn't always available. And all of this for my children. There was nothing I wouldn't have done for them, no matter of personal comfort I wouldn't have sacrificed for them. As their mother who loved them more than anything. As a mother who knew she had to make the best of what sometimes felt little better than survival. And though I often felt then that I was failing, I can look back now with dignity at what I did in those years.

Then, a year and a half ago, I became yet another kind of mother--a step-mother. I was blessed that my daughters-to-be were sweet as could be and accepted me immediately, but it didn't mean the transition was effortless.

In addition to my step-mothering, it also meant my boys were now being step-fathered, both relationships that take time, trust, love, laughter, and mutual respect to establish. It meant I now had to exist in some sort of civil, largely silent relationship with my husband's ex-wife who was/is nearly exclusively supported by his income, and who wasn't thrilled with the idea of me or my children, and all the duress and drama that regularly entails--which still means a lot of forgiving, attempts at understanding, deep breathing. 

Getting remarried didn't return me to my former glory as a SAHM, I still have to work to make sure our needs as a jumbo-sized family in pricey Southern California are met. But it did afford me full nights of sleep and an overflowing emotional bucket of happiness and love. And now, mothering children aged 16,14,13,10, 8 and 8,  I have learned that I will likely  never reach a point where I don't worry over my children, watch over them, cheer them, stand in amazement of them. There will never be one magical solution that worked on one that will work on all of them. That sometimes I will have to let them fail, that sometimes I will have to watch people who are supposed to care about them hurt them, and that sometimes I will give in simply because they outnumber me :)

Yesterday, I took a few hours and wrote each of my six children personalized letters about why I love being their mother. This, because the week before, I was at the gym on the elliptical machine and came across an article called "Ten Questions You Should Ask Your Mother." Having lost my own mother eight years ago now, I was glad I'd had the opportunity to ask her most of the questions on the list while she was still alive, holding the answers close to my heart. But when I reached the question What does your mother love most about you?, I lost it. I was glad I was already sweaty so the man next to me couldn't see that I was crying. My mom had often told me things she loved about me, but I didn't always listen. Maybe I didn't believe her. Maybe I assumed she would always be around to keep telling me. Maybe, like my own children, I could never have pictured a life without her.

For any and all of those reasons,  I wanted my children to know, without a doubt, how much I love them, the reasons I love them, that I will always love them, and that I have always tried to do the best for them with what I had emotionally, financially, and in wisdom available to me at any time. I know there is so much I could have done better, that I could do better, that I will do better, but I set out on this journey committed, and as I have crossed one threshold of mothering after another, I have never flinched.

To all you mothers, at whatever stage or type of mothering you're in, I high five you and wish you a Happy Mother's Day!

all is calm, all is bright

I received a blog comment in my inbox the other day: "Where are you? I miss your adventures!"

Had I really gone more than two months without posting? Did I really let Z's 16th birthday go by without mention? Mr. Perfect's book deal? Thanksgiving? My first anniversary?

Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes.

Though, credit be to me, I did record them all in my journal. Which is an accurate reflection of my life lately: Less public, more private. Though "The Peterson's Go Private!" just doesn't have the same ring to it, I know.

But, for those wondering, for those who have kindly, mercifully stayed on this journey with me all these years, I will step forward from time to time, even if it feels less familiar to do so.

Mr. Perfect and I celebrated one year of marriage on November 24. Our brilliant children surprised us by covering our entire kitchen with white paper hearts bearing the sweetest (and funniest) messages of love and well wishes. I couldn't imagine any better gift!

In many ways, marrying was as much a trauma as getting divorced was. Not in the heartbreaking way, but in the way it was a complete life change that I couldn't have possibly prepared for. I was ready to leave behind my dream house, my city, my jobs, my friends, my place of belonging...but I didn't really KNOW how that would feel day after day, especially when so many unfamiliar things get scary in the sort of way that makes me cry, "I just want to go hoooooome!"

Both of us came into our union a little tweaked from damage done to us in our previous marriages, and it is a process to learn trust, to not let small things trigger large fears. We've been gentle and forgiving with one another, partnered with God and are willing to let time prove our character, and that has made all the difference. I truly couldn't ask for a better friend, companion, helpmeet. So much laughter, so many smiles, so many moments I could live in forever!

Over the last year I have slowly learned where I am in my new world. Learned to navigate the 405 (but only going south), learned what grocery stores sell the best this and that, the best spot for body surfing on the beach, best vintage clothing, best places to go running. I went to the garden store and learned the names of all the plants and flowers that grow here so I could give names to things I was seeing. I learned to call a "neighborhood" a "tract." I learned the slight but distinct flow of seasons in a place that at first seems like an endless summer.  I learned that there are a lot of homeless people here and no shelters and so they sleep in vacant lots and on bus benches but that doesn't mean they are dead and so I don't need to call the police and report a body... (true story)

I hope soon to discover who I am in my new world. Self-defining and achieving was such a major part of my being single. Now, my time has returned largely to my family and home--homeschooling, more children meaning more housework and cooking and errands and activities, and the boys with me nearly all year instead of spending two weekends a month with their dad. And sleeping! Oh, the comfort in being able to sleep more than 3-4 hours a night again. It really is all so wonderful!  But, I still have a desire to write, to be amongst other writers, to contribute to the literary community. Some days it feels more hopeless than others, or I let it bother me more than it should. I feel lost and unimportant.

But between Heavenly Father and Mr. Perfect telling me differently, the feelings pass quickly. I know what I want, I know what I am capable of. What will be, will be. I will make it happen or let it  happen, but there is no reason to abandon the dream simply because the route changed.

I also  hope to continue to help my boy squad heal and adjust. The last year was both thrilling for and hard on them, too. We grew closer together, learned a lot about each other's weaknesses, weathered a lot of culture shock. It's been hard letting them all get so big and independent, but I am also proud of the young men they are growing into. I am happy that Mr. Perfect is able to take on a friend and mentor roll with them and their father can continue to father them. I'm glad they are learning what it means to get along with sisters. It is a weird new "family" but thank goodness scripture is full of weird families that worked.

Sitting here now, late at night--the house quiet, the washer and dryer whirring, the Christmas tree glowing, I feel to echo the sentiment that all is calm, all is bright. My heart is at peace.  I see the challenges ahead but anticipate good things. I knew that re-marriage, even to the most perfect man for me would not be the end to trials in life. There would still be stormy waters to row...though what a blessed thing not to be rowing alone anymore.

 

I sleep, every night, in heavenly peace.

dear daughters of mine,

Dear Daughters of Mine,

I know you have only been my daughters for 8 months now. I know, technically, you're not really mine. I know I could never produce girls as beautiful as you had you actually come from my genes--the ladies in my family just don't have hair like yours, or noses, or golden, glowing skin (though we do have backsides that inspire rap artists. Sometimes those come in handy). But I think you've been in my heart all along. I would never change being the boy mom I am but I'd be lying if I didn't say I strolled through the baby girl department with each of my pregnancies and fingered the soft pink ruffles and wondered...

I've spent 15 years with superhero underwear and Hot Wheels cars and an extensive collection of light sabers. Now I have a bathroom drawer full of glittery hair bows and strawberry lip gloss. It's weird. But good weird. You two make me happy. You made a big new spot in my heart and then filled it up right away. I'm blessed you've accepted me as fully as you have, are learning to trust me, ask me for help, and want to learn from me. I don't imagine either of you ever yelling something like, "You're not my Mom so I don't have to listen to you!!" And now that I've typed that you would never say that, you never can :).

I may be a newbie girl mom, but I was a girl with a mom, and I learned so much from her example. I only with she would have wrote some of it down. So, I'm going to. Write it down. Here are my best 3 pieces of advice for you:

1. Time is short, boys are dumb.
Now, let me back that up because I have four of them that I think are the total bee's knees. I love them dearly. I love the majority of their friends. Boys are super fun--different than girls in the way they think, speak, act, and process--but we were supposed to be made that way, to compliment one another. And with the right guidance, even the doofiest of boys can grow into an amazing man.
I hope you and your girlfriends have lots of crushes and squeal at boy bands. I hope you're the recipient of a bunch of flowers a boy picks for you or buys out of the carnation bin at Wal Mart. Or some necklace he makes you out of his mom's bead collection.

But I hope you don't spend too much of your youth on boys. I hope you never dress in a way that is meant only to impress boys. I hope you don't break up a close friendship with a girl over a boy. I hope you never chop off all your hair or dye it blue because you think that's what a certain boy would like.  I hope you never put socks in your bra. (Do I write like I've done all this? Well, yeah...)  You have the whole of your 20's to have serious relationships. Right now, at 12 and 7, build friendships. Read good books. Spend time with your awesome parents. Enjoy not spending money on mascara and razors and eyebrow waxing. At 16, do some group dating. Have fun. Get to know boys as friends. Maybe even kiss a few. A lot of your peers will be doing much, much more than this, but that's mostly because they started all that other stuff way too early. It's ok to be young for a while longer. It's ok to not do the same things everyone else is doing. And you'll find out boys make better boyfriends when they've got jobs and money and cars and some self-control. I promise, promise, promise, you won't regret a moment of not growing up too fast.

2. Don't worry so much
I know we as females love to have everything in order, to feel that we are in control of our worlds, that we know who we are and where are place in the world is. We start young, assembling our groups of best friends and sometimes even not-so-nicely excluding other girls. Maybe this gives us a sense of power in a world where, up until about 40 years ago, our efforts and opinions didn't seem as valued as our male counterparts.

But, my sweet new girls, I can promise you this--no matter how well you plan, no matter how in control of your appearance or body you feel you are, no matter how nice you are to other people--stuff is going to happen. It will rain on a day you forget your umbrella. You'll get an F on a test you studied hard for. You won't get the part in the play you wanted. You'll get a zit or two or a hundred--all at once. Your metabolism will catch up with you and you'll gain some weight. And you will never get rid of mean people who do mean things for now apparent reason. Then, one day you'll become a wife and mom and a homeowner, and you'll REALLY realize just how out of control your world is.

But please, please don't let excessive worry rob you of the joy in the moment. It took me almost 30 years to learn that and to embrace it consistently. I hope you figure it out sooner than that. The best questions to ask yourself when you come up against something that's starting to make you feel all worried, icky, flipped out in your stomach, ready to yell or scream or send a text to a certain someone at 3 am...*Can I do something about it? If so, do it, and don't worry. *Can I do nothing about it? If so, let it be, and don't worry.

Women who worry too much, who feel that if they can't control a situation than they somehow "lose," are women who tend to get ugly. Inside and out. They're women who do a lot of yelling at their husbands and children. They're women who slam stuff around. Sometimes they even turn into those women you see pulling each other's hair out and hitting one another with their high heeled shoes.

Don't be those kind of women. Really don't be those kind of women.

Things are hard. You won't always be without worry. I'm just saying, keep it in perspective. There's so much good going on even when stuff is going badly. And always, always be nice.

Finally,
3. Remember both of your Fathers

You have one of the best men on earth as your dad. I fell in love with him from the first time I laid eyes on him, then had the privilege of getting to know him as a friend for over a year. I watched closely how he treated other people, including his family and friends, and old people, and babies, and sick people, and animals. He's as awesome as you think he is. I see soooo much of him in you. In your twinkly eyes, and your long eyelashes, in the way you listen to others, the talents you inherited, and especially in the way you can pull faces. I don't know how all of you can look so goofy at the same time you look so beautiful!

And, oh my goodness, you wouldn't even believe how much he loves you two! When he speaks of you to other people, you'd think he was describing two fairy princesses. He is happy by nature, but when you're with him, he just lights up. He only wants the best for you, in so many ways. Listen to his advice. Try to understand when he says, "No." Understand his decisions concerning you always come after a lot of prayer. Don't lie to him, there's no need. Don't worry about disappointing him, he'll get over it. Keep loving him as much as you do now and let him help you through this life and share in the joy of it with you.

But no matter how wonderful your dad is, he doesn't know everything. And he's going to make mistakes. And he's not going to understand you perfectly. That's why you have a second dad-- your Heavenly Father. Having lost my dad to a car accident when I was just 4, Heavenly Father is the only "dad" I grew up with--and He never let me down. Or if he did, it was temporary--a feeling that went away as I got down the road of life a little further to understand the why of things. Your Heavenly Father loves you and knows you better than you know yourself, and wants you to come talk to Him in prayer every day. He'll talk back, too, just in quiet ways you'll get better at recognizing the more you practice. He cares about everything you do--even little things like bad hair days or lost keys. Ask Him for help. He'll give it in all kinds of ways. Most of all, ask Him to shield you every day that you go out into this crazy, wonderful world, to keep you safe from the junk so that you can better enjoy the good stuff.

And there is SO much good stuff.

I promise.

So, thank you again, new, sweet girls of mine for all you have added to my bucket of blessings. Thank you for your love. Thank you for letting me paint your fingernails. And braid your hair. I couldn't have handpicked better daughters.

All my love,
~Bonus Mom

ripping the band aid off

As a rule, I have learned if I want to stay healthy, focused, and happy, I need the following things most days:

*Prayer and scripture study

*Sleep (I can live on 4 hours or 7, as long as I keep it consistent)

*Exercise

*Air and/or Sunshine (preferably combined with the exercise)

*To advance myself toward one of my goals in some way, large or small, usually involving my parenting or writing

It sounds simple enough but, Boy oh boy! Do I ever struggle most days trying to fit those things in with all the other things that need to get done or manage to squeeze themselves into my day after day.

Prayer and scripture study always make it in and I'm certain that I'd get nothing else done at all were it not for them.

Sleep has been a bit boomerang-ish as of late, especially since night person me has been forced to be a morning person in order to get my oldest son off to early morning seminary every day.

I'm adjusting to trying to exercise mostly in a gym since I haven't found any good outdoor running trails here yet that aren't a long drive away, though there's never a shortage of air and sunshine as long as I can get out of my car long enough to appreciate them (did I mention it takes a good 2 hours every day just dropping children off and picking them up from school...?)

The last category is by far the most frustrating. My goal advancement seems to be stumbling aimlessly lately. I submitted to Tin House writers workshop, was accepted (!!!), and then--while I was crowd funding to be able to cover the $800 deposit on account of NOT getting one of the five scholarships--I learned they'd given my spot away and put me on a wait list. I'm fourth. I read and re-read through my acceptance letter where there was never a deadline mentioned for turning money in so I really had no idea I was in danger of losing my spot for not paying right away. I was crushed. Especially after all my friends had purchased my work in order to raise the funds to get me there.

I suppose I could have fought it, demanded they give me my spot back, but the fight just seems to be drained out of me lately.

Mostly due to the other part of my aimless stumbling in my goals, which would be my parenting. During my nearly five years single mothering, I had consistent Heavenly protection and help. I was able to do the impossible daily. It wasn't easy or always joyous, but I was able to bear it. It was like a divine Band Aid.

That protective condition, mixed with the fact that I was just so freaking busy working five jobs and holding down the house sheltered me from a lot of problems that were developing. But now, thanks to my  happy marriage and extremely supportive husband, I'm able to slow down and participate in life more than just hang on to it for dear life. And for all the wonderful blessings it has brought, it's  also meant ripping that Band Aid off. The move to a bigger city, the transition into teenage years for my older two boys, blending two families, leaving behind home and friends and identities...well, it's been rough for all of us. It's the type of rough that can co-exist with stretches of pure joy (I really DO love my Mr. Perfect and my kids and our new home and adventures), but rough nonetheless.

So, I'm trying with all my might to raise dropped school grades, help my boys make good new friends, find new interests, teach them to use their agency and words wisely.  Keep them motivated. Show them the benefits of hard work. Teach them to look beyond the right now and labor for things they want most.  Help them to make their dad an active part of their lives even with the distance. And all this with me trying to let go of the guilt-plaguing idea that their struggles are, "all my fault."  And to find my own new place in this new life as well.

Gratefully, I couldn't ask for a better partner in it all than my Mr. Perfect who has the faith of Job and whose humor always warms even the bleakest of days. He's devoted to us, to his girls, to my boys, to helping us be the best family we can be. And whereas I get discouraged when I don't see my efforts paying off when and how I want them to, he gently reminds me that things take time. Usually more time than we're comfortable with. But the results are always worth the wait.

Given the evidence of the last seven years of my life, you'd think I would have figured this out already, huh?

So, now that the Band Aid is off, we can clean the lingering wound and start down the road to a healed life, knowing that God is still with us. Still. Always. And if we keep our hearts and lives inclined towards Him, we will come to see--sooner or later-- just why things happened why and how they did.

write it down, baby

I sort of knew what would happen to my blog once I remarried. I knew that its function as an emotional coping mechanism wouldn't be so necessary anymore. And not only would there be the general busy-ness of managing six children and the desire to spend most of my free time with Mr. Perfect, but a large amount of my life would now deal with a new extended family and circle of friends who may not be so sure about being outed publicly on a blog...even if I covered up their real identities with cute names.

Since it has been two weeks since my last entry, I suppose my assumptions were correct.

But there is still a desire in me to keep this going, no matter what it may evolve into.

Last night, I ran across two long journal entries I had typed and printed as opposed to the normal handwritten journaling I generally do. They were both written after a several month period of me not writing, attempting to summarize weeks of events and changes. One was from 2001, the other from 2002. I was 26 and 27 years old.

It took me by surprise, just how choked up I got reading them, reliving as though I were back in the very moment-- what it was to be a young mother, the joys and woes of raising toddlers, and the simultaneous strain and growth the starting of our business with its accompanying financial problems. At the times, I still had my mom alive and helping in her amazingly selfless way. My marriage was still precious and unblemished, my husband my best friend and prince. The names of dear friends now long moved away dotted the paragraphs.  I could feel the weight and fear and hope in the voice of that 26 and 27 year old me...but she still had no idea what was ahead.

I found myself searching deep inside to see if I still felt the same amount of hope I did ten and eleven years previous, having since endured deaths and divorce and illness, having had my sweet, dependant toddlers transition into questioning (but still sweet) teenagers who need to prove their independence.

And I do. I think. I mean, I'm a little more emotionally insulated than I once was, discovering someone as tender as younger me simply cannot survive the slings and arrows of middle age (or at least *my* middle age). I'm a little less optimistic and a little more realistic than I was about some magical time when everything would "just work out." Not that I don't still trust in that concept, but my perception of just what that time looks like and what it will take to get me there has certainly adjusted. In essence, I suppose I'm like that senior looking at the freshman thinking, "You don't know nothing yet, kid."

However, I still like who I am now. What I have become. What my family has become. What I and we all still have the potential to become. And why my  marriage to Mr. Perfect may have resolved the trials of a certain portion of my life, it opened up a whole bunch of new ones. But that's ok. I knew it always would.

I don't know how many second marriages in their first six weeks have to endure
*a major change in the wedding ceremony plans
*a move across states
*my being deaf and suffering from a migraine for over a month
*Mr. Perfect's lypoma surgery
*selling a house
*sorting out four households worth of furniture and redecorating a new home, which is currently shared by up to ten people
*blending kids--boys who have never had older sisters, and sisters who have never had brothers
*Christmas
*the death of a pet
*three school registrations
*starting a new job
*meeting big work deadlines
and
*trying to purchase a vehicle large enough to carry us all

But ours did. And although there were some tears, I am thrilled to report I am just as in love with my Mr. Perfect as ever. More so, actually. As it should be as you help one another through rough spots. I'm also thrilled to report:
*We now treasure our Las Vegas wedding story
*California feels more like home every day
*I can hear again, my head doesn't hurt, and I am more grateful for the blessing of health
*Mr. Perfect still has a lypoma on his wrist, but now it's a little smaller and has a cool Frankenstein scar
*My house has had a heartbreakingly low offer made on it...but it's still an offer and selling it will soon be one less thing I have to worry over
*Our home is coming together beautifully and functions well, even with our numbers, which will diminish by one tomorrow as Mr. Perfect's sister moves to her own apartment.
*Our kids couldn't get along any more awesomely. They enjoy one another's company immensely and we have already made golden, happy, funny memories. It is just as I envisioned it would be.
*Christmas was one of my most memorable ever--in a good way.
*The Guinea pig, Piglet, is sorely missed and buried behind our house. Little J still talks about him a lot. We may try to buy another soon, but not now.
*Three of my four boys are attending and thoroughly enjoying their new schools. Z had to fly back to stay with his dad and finish his semester at his old high school but will join the ranks of his brothers at the end of this month.
*My new job rocks. It may not be the creative, high-paced position I was accustomed to but it's just down the road, it's hours are perfect, the people are great, and it's exactly what we need right now. Work on my novel will resume soon. Very soon.
*Mr. Perfect and I are combining forces to help him meet the big deadlines that always seem to be on his shoulders and which, we hope, will produce some pretty cool results in the near future.
*By the end of this week (fingers crossed) we should have a van that seats eight and officially un-cools us all :)

So--whether in 2001 or 2002 or 2013, it remains true: Life is hard. And sometimes it's not. That's how it's always been. That's how it will always be. God is in charge, no matter what. And it's pretty awesome to keep a record of it all. The End :)