Eve

Lately I've been thinking about the difference between men and women.  I can't help but laugh when I over hear a conversation between my husband and one of his male friends.  They usually go something like this, "Your team sucked last night dude" "Screw you".  Now let me translate this into lady talk, "I'm so sorry your team lost last night.  Are you okay?  Need anything?" "You're the best!" followed by hugs and tears.  Maybe a little exaggeration but you get the idea.  Guys just say whatever is on their minds while women feel they have to empathize with one another. 

Another difference between men and women is how women over analyze almost everything.  We think way too much and it not only drives us crazy but our male counterparts as well.  Let me give you an example.  I'm a worrier (my poor hubby) and I'm a big planner too.  My husband is one the most easy going people I know.  I'm so grateful for that fact.  I feel that because we are polar opposites in this regard we balance each other very well.  He can chill me out when I'm too wound up and I can drive my husband to act when needed.  We just got done hosting our families for Easter dinner.  I planned and re-planned the menu and the logistics for the meal for weeks before the day of the event.  I went over the menu with my husband a couple times when I found my self stressing over one food choice or another.  My hubby's response was always indifference, at least with my ears.  My husband says I hear with my feelings, not my ears.  His response would be, "Sounds good babe" "Whatever you want babe" "I'm sure it will be great whatever you make"  Though I love the support, he's obviously not that invested in this meal as I am and that's fine.  Early in our marriage a situation like this might upset me.  I can picture the 21 year old me thinking, gosh why doesn't he care?  Is he mad at me?  What did I do wrong?  The answers to these questions I now know is; he's a man, no, and nothing.  Man, if I knew then what I know now. 

This is going to sound weird for those who know who I'm talking about, but Tom Leykis opened my womanly eyes to a great, dumb fact.  Ready?  Men can NOT read our minds.  It doesn't matter if you've been married 1 day or a million, 3 years or 75.  Ladies, men can NOT read your mind.  Never say to your husband, "You should just know".  Men don't just know.  They just don't.  They don't think like us and they can NOT read our minds.  Ladies, just tell your husband what you want.  Its that easy.  Tom Leykis was on a talk radio station when Jared and I were just married.  I started listening to him when we were dating not because I agreed with his philosophy or even liked him.  In fact I thought he was a jerk BUT he made a lot of good points about men and women and their relationships.  One day on my way home from work Tom told a caller this important fact.  Its so simple and I'm sure you're thinking "well duh lady, no one can read minds."  Remember that next time you and your significant other have a miscommunication that leads to an argument.

Women always ask more questions than men.  To drive home this point I'll go back to the beginning, Adam and Eve.  When Satan tempted Adam to partake of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil his answer was simple, no.  But when Eve was tempted her response wasn't so simple.  Eve wanted to know who the tempter was.  This lead to more questions.  Why would a brother of Eve tempt her to disobey their father?  Eventually Satan convinced Eve that the only way for her to know pleasure was to know pain, the only way to know happiness is to know sadness, the only way to know health is to know sickness, etc.  Eve would have to partake of the fruit.  Adam and Eve would have to leave the Garden of Eden to become mortal beings and be tested, like us, in order to reach their eternal potential.  This could not have been an easy decision for Eve.  Could you imagine the agony she had to be in?  I can't.  She knew that she wouldn't only be disappointing her companion, Adam, but her Heavenly Father as well.  It probably broke her heart to partake of the fruit and then have to go tell Adam what she had done and get him to eat the fruit as well.  I pray that I could be that brave.   Women have to make hard decisions that shape and effect their families everyday.  Its been this way since Eve.  Now I'm not saying that men don't also have to make hard decisions too.  Men sometimes have even harder, life changing decisions to make for their family.  I know from experience that the best decisions are made when a husband and a wife come together and talk, debate, and pray about what lies ahead and then make a decision together, hand and hand.  My husband and I strive to be an egalitarian couple.  We do follow a pretty traditional husband and wife role.  I stay home with our sons, manage the home, cook, and clean and my husband goes to work each day and supports our family financially.  And even though he makes the money he knows and values my role as a mother and homemaker.  And even though my job as a stay at home mother never ends I understand how hard my husband works to support our needs and wants.  Our roles are traditional but we know how important it is to respect one another and be a team.  We are the foundation of our family.  If we are not solid, our family is not solid.   

I pray that I can be more like Eve, seeing what needs to be done and doing it.  Having faith that everything will be as it should.  Trusting my instincts and making the hardest of decisions when needed.  As I grow older, life gets more difficult.  I know that if I continue to strive to be like Eve I will fare the storms ahead a lot easier. 

      

Motherhood

I can vividly remember the moment I knew I wanted to be a mother.  I was 10 and my sister, 12 years my senior, just gave birth to her first child.  I eagerly joined my mom on a visit to see my niece the day they came home from the hospital.  Drew Ann was this beautiful little baby with lots of brown hair and soft skin.  After my mom had her turn of holding her granddaughter, it was my turn.  I sat down on the bed next to my sister and put my arms out, a little nervously.  My mom put Drew in my arms and I pulled her close.  Within seconds my nerves disappeared and were replaced with confidence.  I was surprised at how natural it felt to hold this infant in my arms.  I remember smelling her and her holding onto my finger with her tiny hand and knowing, I want this.  I want to be a mother.  After that day whenever I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was always the same, a mother. 

My enthusiasm for motherhood waned a little after my first babysitting job.  I was 12 and at this point my sister had had her 2nd child.  I was asked to babysit for a family in our ward.  They had 3 children under the age of 5.  The youngest was only about 9 months old and a boy.  Every thing was going great till the baby needed a diaper change.  I nervously scooped up the baby and carried him into the nursery to get him a fresh diaper.  I was nervous because I had never changed a boy before.  I put the little man down on the changing table and proceeded to gather the necessary tools for completing my task.  The baby started to roll on his side.  Fearing he would roll off the changing table I kept a hand on his tummy while I finished preparing myself for the task at hand.  Finally I was ready.  As soon as I undid the soiled diaper, a steady stream of urine came up towards me.  I panicked.  I frantically looked around for something to both block the pee and mop it up at the same time.  I spotted a towel a couple feet away.  I went to grab it and when I turned back to the baby he had started to roll off the changing table.  I quickly grabbed the baby before he hit the floor but by doing so I scared the little guy.  As soon as I put him on my hip he started to pee again, all over me.  Once I settled the baby down, changed his diaper, cleaned off the urine on the changing table, floor, his clothes, and my clothes I was exhausted.  And my job wasn't done.  I had another hour to entertain the children before getting them bathed and ready for bed.  I was so relieved when the parents returned from their excursion a few hours later.  I couldn't wait to go home and sleep.  That night, as I lay in bed, I rethought my motherhood plans.  Maybe I didn't like kids as much as I thought.  I still babysat occasionally but it wasn't my favorite thing to do. 
Then I met my husband, Jared.  He was an absolute natural with kids of all ages.  This is one of the things that attracted me to him.  I knew that he was going to a great father.  Would I be a great mother?  I thought about that a lot as we courted.  We were both in college and trying to decide what we were going to do when we grew up in the next few months.  I finally decided that I wanted to go into education.  With encouragement from my husband I got a job at an elementary school as an instructional assistant in a special day class for children with mild to moderate disabilities.  I knew this job wasn't going to be easy going into it but what I didn't know was how unbelievably rewarding it would turn out to be too.  During my 4 years of service I was threatened, kicked, hit, called every name in the book, and had my hair cut, but I loved my job.  Watching my students learn and grow educationally, emotionally, and socially made it all worth it.  And little did I know that these sweet spirits were preparing me for the challenges of motherhood. You know how you meet people for the first time they ask,  "So, what do you do?".  I almost always had people say, "Wow, you must have a lot patience" when I told them I worked with special ed kids. Now as a mother of 2 very active boys I know that that patience I learned in the classroom was an absolute necessity for my job as a mother.

When I worked in special education I thought I had the most difficult yet rewarding job in the world and that's exactly what I told people.  Then I became a mother.  Boy was I wrong!  Motherhood is by far the most challenging yet rewarding job in the universe and I absolutely love it with every fiber of my being.  I'm not going to lie, there are days where I want to run away to a foreign country and not come back till the kids are 18  (I kind of feel that way right now actually as my sons are fighting for what seems like the 50th time today).

  But then they remind me why I love being their momma when they play nicely, say I love you, give me hugs and kisses, laugh, cry, sleep, watch them learn and grow, etc.  I may have the rowdiest kids around but I love them to the moon and back and more.  They fulfilled that calling I heard from above when I was just a girl to be a mother.  They made me want to be better, do better and live better.  Jacob and Andrew, you complete me.                 

Forgive

I'm sorry.  These two words are difficult for almost anyone to say but make the person they are spoken to feel better much of the time.  I'm a very sensitive person.  My feelings get hurt pretty easily.  When I worked part time at target for a couple years I ran into some really interesting shoppers.  They did and said some pretty crazy things that hurt my feelings sometimes.  Most people I dealt with were super nice but there were some that just made my skin crawl.  (Working retail requires a thick skin which unfortunately I don't really have.)  One time as I was folding shirts in the juniors department, I had a woman walk through, browsing and leaving a small wake of a mess behind her as she shopped.  Suddenly this woman stopped at my side.  I immediately looked up at her and asked, with the sweetest voice I could muster after watching her destroy my department, "Can I help you find something?"  This woman, while looking me straight in the eyes, asked in the snarkiest voice, "You have to fold ALL these shirts?!"  I replied with a "Yes ma'am."  She then rolled her eyes and with a disgusted tone in her voice said, "UGH!  I'd shoot myself!"  REALLY!  Luckily for me (and this guest) she walked away right after telling me I should shoot myself.  Initially, my jaw dropped and I kinda wanted to slap her.  But then I started to tear up a little and I felt sad.  My job was not glamorous or fun.  It was tedious and annoying.  I cleaned up after people for a very meager wage.  I so wanted to tell this lady that I was folding these shirts to make money to help support my family.  I wanted to tell her that I have a BA but I have 2 little boys I'm home with during the day so I had to find a night job.  I wanted to tell her how much I miss my family every night I'm at work.  I wanted to tell her I'd much rather be kissing my boys good night and relaxing with my husband then be here folding shirts.  I wanted to ask her what her problem was with me?  Now I know that her problem wasn't with me, it was with herself.  Fortunately these kind of interactions between me and other people don't happen very often.  Today I was speaking to a very wise friend who told me that when people say or do things negative its not about you (the person its being said or directed to), its about them.  I feel like women more so then men take things personal more frequently.  However, if my friend is right, and I think she is, we shouldn't be asking ourselves things like "Why doesn't she like me?" or "What did I do to her?" when our feelings are hurt by someone else.  Instead we should be asking ourselves "Why doesn't she like herself?" or "What is going on with her?" or "I know this isn't about me.  I forgive her."  Forgiving is so much easier then being upset or angry. 

Before I got pregnant with Jacob I went through a super difficult time in my life.  My husband and I were struggling to get pregnant, I was working almost full time and going to school full time so I could finally graduate with my BA, I was dealing with some self image issues and I was struggling with my relationship with my father.  I found myself so angry with my dad that at times it affected almost every other relationship in my life.  I was starting to get physically ill whenever my dad and I would have an unpleasant interaction.  One day after I graduated from college and finally had some time for myself, I was sitting on the couch and picked up the Ensign (for those of you who don't know its a church magazine we subscribe to).  I came to an article about forgiveness by Henry B. Eyring.  Towards the end of the article there was a paragraph that seemed to be written just for me.  It talked about how God commanded us to obey and honor our mother and father.  It went on to say that that means we need to forgive them when they have done something to hurt our feelings.  We are not honoring anyone who we resent and don't forgive.  I remember sitting back and starring at the ceiling.  I thought about the bad feelings I was holding onto about my father.  I then got on my knees and prayed to my Father in Heaven that He would help me to forgive my dad.  I also asked my Heavenly Father to forgive me for not obeying such an important commandment.  As I rose to my feet I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.  I felt lighter and happier.  I was no longer angry or upset.  I forgave.  The next time I talked to my dad I did not actually say the words I forgive you but I'm pretty sure he could tell something was different.  I was different. Forgiving made me better. 

When my father passed away last year I was so grateful that I had followed that great commandment from our Father in Heaven and obeyed and HONORED my parents before it was too late.  I had enough regrets to deal with when my father passed away (I didn't call him enough for one) that I'm so relieved that I didn't have to regret something like not forgiving him while he was here on the earth.  Forgiveness made it easier to grieve. 

Forgiveness leads to happiness and for this reason...
I forgive the snarky target shopper.  I forgive the women who have hurt my feelings, past and present.  I forgive my father.  It feels good to be forgiving.     

Serve

On one of my last visits to my grandparents home before my grandmother passed away I found myself in the kitchen with my grandmother, cleaning up after dinner.  I was putting the left overs away,  I opened up a cupboard and found it full of recycled cottage cheese containers, cool whip, sour cream, etc.  As I was packing away leftover mashed potatoes and her famous meatballs my grandmother lovingly touched my arm.  I turned to her and she told me, "Suzie, when I die and people come look in my kitchen cupboards and see all these containers I want you to tell them that I kept these containers so that when I made a meal for a family in need they could just throw them away."  She went on to explain that she didn't want the family to have to worry about washing any extra dishes and then have to worry about having to return them to her.  My grandmother made a lot of meals for families in need over the years.  It didn't matter if they just had a baby, just moved, were sick, or just down, she was always willing and able to make dinner or cookies for her fellow man.  My grandmother was always willing to serve.
 
A few short months later I found myself standing at a podium sharing this sweet experience I had with my grandmother with her family and friends at her funeral.  I was not the only one who shared stories of her service to others.  Almost every person who spoke shared a story of how she served in one way or another.

My grandmother passed her love of service onto her children.  My father, her second son, too was always willing to serve during his life.  He served many years in the Boy Scouts of America and received the Silver Beaver award, which is the equivalent of a life time achievement award, for his many years of service.  One year my parents took us kids to Disneyland on Christmas day.  At that time we didn't have a car that could hold our whole family so we had to drive 2 cars any time we all went somewhere together.  I was in the car with my mom and little brother on the 57 freeway when all of a sudden we saw my dad and older brothers pull over on the side of the freeway behind a car stranded on the side of the busy road.  We found out later when he and my brothers finally met us at the gates of the amusement park that my dad felt he needed to pull over to help.  No one should be stuck on the side of the road on Christmas day was what he told us.  It turned out that my father was likely an answer to the driver's prayers who was a mother traveling alone with her children  My handy father and brothers were able to help her car get going again and I believe they followed her to the gas station to make sure she made it okay.  That was my dad, always willing to serve.

Our Savior is our perfect example of service.  He served his fellow men because he loved them.  Jesus loved everyone, even those who didn't love him.  Wow!  How amazing is that!  I pray that I can be even half as loving and willing to serve as our Lord, Jesus Christ. 

Since the passing of my father and grandmother I have recommitted myself to the act of service.  I no longer wait for people to ask for help but I seek out opportunities to serve as they did.  What I've found from doing this is that I am happier.  I feel good when I serve.  I would argue that most people feel happier when they serve others.  How awesome is that!  When I help someone, I not only make them happier but I feel happier too.  I pray that like my grandmother I pass the legacy of service onto my sons and they in turn pass it on to their children.  Heck, I've started saving my cool whip containers. 

      

Love

I have always believed that there is a difference between loving someone and being IN love with someone.  I love my parents, I am IN love with my husband.  We all come into the world the same way.  We are born, we have a mother and father, and sometimes siblings.  Most of us know our parents and love them from the first moment we understand what love is.  We love our parents not only because we want to but because we need to love them.  We rely fully on them for our safety and security.

When you are IN love with someone, it is a choice pure and simple.  I don't love my husband because I need him.  I make a choice everyday to love him.  I chose to be his wife on June 21, 2003 and I continue to honor that commitment because I chose to.

Once I became a mother I learned something new about love.  I learned what it meant to love someone unconditionally.  From the moment I felt my 2 sons kick and flutter inside me, I loved these little beings unconditionally.  I didn't even know what they looked like, what sex they were or if they would love me back.  None of that mattered.  They were my children and I would love them NO MATTER WHAT.   Fast forward to today.  Jacob is a very busy and sweet 5 year old who I have to tell to do something on average 3 times.  Andrew is an energetic and loving 3 year old who will be happy one minute and have a full blown tantrum the next.  I get upset and frustrated at some point almost everyday but like the mother in the famous children's book I will "love them forever, like them for always" because they are MY children. 

Last year I again discovered something new about love.  For the first time in my life I lost not only 1 person that I loved but 4.  My father died from an accidental drug overdose in January.  In May my grandmother (father's mother) fell into a coma and passed away a few days later.  Then at the end of July my other grandmother started showing signs of dementia and died in her sleep.  Finally in August my best friend of 17 years and I had a huge falling out and she decided she didn't want me to be apart of her life.  I loved each one of these people immensely. 


My relationship with my father wasn't always an easy one to keep up.  He had a short fuse and temper to boot.  He was always the victim and everyone else was always out to get him.  As a youth these vices were directed at my mother but as his 6 children got older and my parents divorced he started to focus his rants on us kids.  I often didn't like my father's actions but I never stopped loving him and I never stopped telling him that.  At my father's funeral I stood with my 5 siblings in the receiving line as we greeted guests.  I was so grateful that all 6 of us could say that the last thing we said to our father and in turn the last thing he said to us was, "I love you." 

My grandmothers were both amazing women.  They exemplified what a latter day saint woman should be.  They loved and served their families and friends unselfishly.  They supported their husbands through their service in the military and church callings.  They each raised 6 children.  My grandmother's were and still are my hero's.  They both endured to the end of their lives.

My friend and I were more than friends.  We were like sisters.  We did everything together and we told each other everything good and bad.  She was one my bridesmaids when I got married, she was the first person I told I was pregnant after trying for 11 long months, she was present at both of my sons births  and was "auntie" to my sons.  I knew with the same surety that my husband and I would grow old together that she and I would also grow old together, holding hands with our husbands at our sides.  Through the dimize of our friendship, I never stopped loving her.  My actions were because I loved her so much and because I had watched her just a few years earlier crumble to pieces while I stood by and did nothing for fear that I would lose her friendship.  I acted this time around because she had made me promise her not to just stand by.  She had me promise to tell her the truth no matter what.  What I saw as the truth, she saw as lies.  What I saw as loyalty, she saw as betrayal.  What I saw as love, she saw as jealousy.  In the end what I was most hurt about was that she abanded my sons.  They were innocent.  They never did anything to hurt her but yet they had to grieve the loss of someone they loved and someone they knew loved them too.  It broke my heart to try to answer my 5 year olds questions of where his auntie was.  My heart still aches for the loss of this friendship. 

So what did I learn about love last year?  I learned the truth behind the age old phrase "It is better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all".  All 4 of the people I lost last year taught me, shaped me, and loved me.  I am the person I am today because of their love for me and mine for them.  I am so grateful for the trials of  last year that helped me gain a better understanding of love and helped me to love my family more intensely.  I know that the love of my Savior is what carried me through the fog I was in last year.  I know that my Heavenly Father loves me more than I could possibly comprehend.  Love, is the strongest force in existence.