Prankster

My phone rang this morning at 5:44AM.  Thinking it was bad news, I blindly scrambled for my phone.  I answered, hoping it was nothing too serious... and was right.  It was Tyson, giggling.  His first prank call.  I was not amused.  Now, three hours later, I find it kind of funny.  But only a little.

I realize that so many of my posts recently have been about Tyson.  He is far-and-away our most playful child right now.  I know that he stays home with me all day, and that our blog won't always be full of this kind of thing, but he has always been the child that pokes, and prods, and just plays.  He loves to "pester" and giggle and just loves to be tickled.  He loves to wave his hand in front of the page you are reading, loves to push the phone when you're playing on it, love to jump on your back when you are stretching, and just loves to be all up in your business.  He just makes me laugh.  My other kids are loved just as much, but their lives aren't wrapped so much around my own.  They do their thing, and while I love what they do, it doesn't impact my own day too much.  Where they ride their bikes and want me to watch their mad skills, Tyson wants to sit on my lap while they ride.  He just wants to be with me.  And, let me just say, it is my favorite!!!

Hammock

I know the picture is poor quality, but I couldn't get it to come out any better. I was able to plant flowers the other day and get my front yard looking the way I wanted. On that day, Randy helped make the front yard an even more beautiful oasis by rigging up a hammock to my beautiful, strong tree and our front post. Not an ideal placement for those that want to come to my front door, but no one can fault us for what stands in their way. It is so wonderful. 

I came down this morning, our first official day of Spring Break, to find Tyson outside, swinging and singing. Not a bad way to begin our break. A much better idea than the one I would like to happen. I want another mega-cleaning day like the one we had in January. If we all put our minds to the idea, we can accomplish great things. However, they are a little against that idea. I don't blame them. But I want their help. We'll see who gets their Spring Break wish granted. 

11:00AM Update:

I am not above guilting my kids into doing what I'd like them to do.  Randy isn't either, thank goodness.  Here is our reasoning for making them do a little work today.  I decided our first week in our new apartment (14 years ago) that I wanted to work on Saturdays.  After all, we both worked back then.  I had Randy help me with the "Saturday chores" that I grew up with.  I thought it would be nice to have the house cleaned spotless at least once a week.  That lasted half-way through our first Saturday.  Ever since then, I have not had my family work on Saturday.  Here was Randy's get-up-and-help-your-mom speech:

"We have decided that we leave Saturdays to play.  That means 52 Saturdays a year you get to do nothing but play.  Your mom takes care of the house every day during the week so that Saturdays are free.  It is not unreasonable for her to ask that you clean a little during your Spring Break.  Either you get up and do what she'd like today, or we'll implement Saturday Chores."

And so we cleaned the basement for one hour today.  Every single thing on my Basement list was complete.  We'll clean for one hour tomorrow on the Upstairs and then we'll have no more cleaning for the week.  SWEET!

And that, my friends, is how you guilt your children into doing something that they don't want to do! 

Four Square

Randy is testing me.  First he teaches the kids Kick Ball while I am at Time Out For Women, then has me play after giving me the "Don't Get Competivite" speech.

Yesterday, he taught the kids Four Square while I was napping. 

See...testing.

Only thing is, I am awful at four square.  Awful.  But I want to be good.  And I want to win.

Looks like our kick-ball ball is going to get many uses this summer.

Side note: Tyson already has tan lines on his feet.  It's March still.  I'm going to have some very dark children come Autumn.

Salesman

I have had three amazingly perfect days.  I told Randy that I almost feel manic by how happy I have been.  Saturday was a low-low and these last three days have been SO high- manic.  It has been heaven to be so free of unhappiness and absolutely no motivation.  Let's hope this sticks!!

Shelby came to me with a voice I know very well, the voice she learned from her father.  We'll call it the Salesman Voice.

(Clears Throat) "Mom, you know what would be very helpful for me?  If you could turn my clothes the right way before you put them in the basket for me to hang up."

(Scoffs) "Shelby, it has taken me a long time to even want to do laundry.  Be grateful you have clean clothes to look through at all."

Keeping it real, people. 

Delta

Caden came to me a few weeks ago in an excited/agitated state, asking me to sign a paper for school. It had been a particularly hard day for me, so my first instinct was to put it off until I felt I could mentally handle it. This just would not do for Caden. He burst into tears. 

I told him that I needed some time to really look at what I was signing, and gave him some time to explain it on the way to guitar lessons. Giddy, fast-talking replaced his tears. I knew this was more than important to him. 

A demonstration/presentation had been given to the 8th graders at Enterprise Middle School about the possibility of attending an "elite" high school: Delta High. It is a public school that has a lottery system to allow only 300 students from around the Tri-Cities to enter as Freshmen. A Science Technology Engineering Mathmatics High School that has a very accelerated curriculum just up Caden's alley. He loved everything about it. He was out of breath after he finished telling me all about it. The hope that I saw in his eyes as he begged me to sign the paper was enough for me to sign it as soon as we got to guitar. He walked into practice with such confidence. He felt like he had a chance. 

A few days later, he came running in, asking if I had heard from Delta. He was certain that they would call that day at 3:00. With phone in hand, he grabbed a snack and began his homework. As the time wore on, we saw him visibly become down-trodden. We asked him how he knew they would call that day, and came to the conclusion that it was his own  interpretation of when he'd get the call. However, we also found out that maybe I signed the paper a bit premature. When asked whom he put down for Refrences, he'd put Randy and Stephanie Dirks. When Randy explained that it needed to be someone other than his parents, Caden, once again, became visibly agitated. He ran to the computer to print off another application to fill out again. It was too late. They had already filed his application. He was certain, then, that he would not be chosen. And we put it from our minds. 

Until yesterday when I got the call that my son, Mr. Caden Dirks, was accepted as one of the 300 student entering the Freshmen class of 2019!! He got into the school he wanted. 

I was bursting to tell Randy, kind of bothered that he was busy when I had such good news. I contemplated asking him to quit and live on our love so that I would always have him near when I had such exciting news. Then I realized we may never have good news again if we didn't have any worldy money. So I didn't ask him to quit. We came up with a surprise to tell him, and the other kids, the news. We partied all night!

Caden got accepted to Delta High!!

Mutual

Tonight was a surreal night for me.  Because Keilie will be going to 7th grade next year and is celebrating her 12th birthday before the end of the summer, she is eligible to go to Girl's Camp this year.  And it hit me all over again that my daughter will be moving into the Young Women's organization.  The happiest years of my childhood include countless memories of both Young Women's and Girl's Camp.  And now my Keilie is old enough to go.  I am happy for her.  Thrilled, in fact.  I know she is going to love it. 

That's not to say that I loved having Shelby, Brennon, and Tyson super hyper in the car while we waited an extra 20 minutes (plus seven minutes because I hate being late to anything) for them to get done with their meetings tonight.  The first night when Keilie and Caden go together was ill-planned.  I think I'm going to break my own rule and be late picking them up.  They will have a much funner time waiting an extra five minutes for me than I will have being early for them.  It gives me hives thinking of being late, but man, did I want to scream at my kids to BE QUIET!!  STOP BEING SO HAPPY SILLY OBNOXIOUS LOUD!!  I didn't, not even once, but I wanted to. 

I'm gonna pack extra activities (quiet ones) in the car.  We'll see which tactic works- Arrive late or activities?

(*GASP*) MY DAUGHTER IS GOING TO BE 12 IN AUGUST!!

Tall-Tales

You know those stories that just get bigger with time?  The ones that start out as a small fishing trip that turns into the biggest fish tale this world has ever heard?  We now have one of those in our family.  To hear Tyson tell the story of what happened on Saturday with the dog would have you thinking he had narrowly escaped the grim reaper.  I heard him telling our next door neighbor, Shaedynn, "Guess what?!  I almost got eaten by a dog."

Brennon:"Nu-Uh, Tyson."

Tyson:"Yuh-Huh, Brennon!  It almost ate my ear off.  It wanted to eat me for dinner!!"

Pretty soon we're going to hear how it did eat his ear for dinner.

So, let's take this moment to look at this cute face...

And give thanks that he is still part of the living world.  I'll continue snuggling him extra long. 

Therapy

I wish I could say that since I posted about my PTSD stuff all has been fantastic, but it just isn't yet.  A comment was made at church about "The Lord's Time" and I was once again reminded that I will get better, but maybe not as fast as I would like.  Which is to say that I really wish I NEVER had this.

Saturday was particularly heinous.  Enough for Randy to try and fix it.  He has been good to just listen, but Saturday had him scrambling for anything that would make me feel better.  So, he packed us all up and headed to a place of his choosing.  The Humane Society.  Maybe I would bond with a dog that could be a kind of therapy for me.  I was resistant, but followed.  While I love my house, I realize that we are kind of bursting at the seams.  I can't imagine adding one more piece of paper, let alone a dog.  But, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look at dogs.  I love the idea of a dog.

There were two cute ones that could work, but nothing in the building that really struck me as one I would really want.  We weren't truly thinking we'd walk out of there with one, but I think Randy was totally open to anything that I wanted to do.  However, one caught his eye enough for a closer look.  She was out in the yard with a volunteer.  From a distance, she looked so similar to our first dog, Sadie.  Upon closer inspection, it was her color and back that looked so similar; the face was different.  And she retrieved balls for the kids, something that Sadie never did.  The kids were in heaven playing with her.  Could this be our family dog?!

We had been talking with the volunteer for about fifteen minutes, playing with her and just feeling her out, when Tyson threw her tennis ball and started running with her.  I was seriously enjoying the laughter of my kids, loving that they weren't afraid of her size.  At that moment, the dog kind of bumped up to Tyson.  I could see the change in his countenance, he was startled and instantly scared.  I'm not really sure how it happened, but the dog went from chasing the ball, to playing more actively with Ty.  He did NOT like that.  His laughter changed to yelps and again to screams.  His arms came up to cover his face, blocking his view and making him turn in circles to get away from her.  She took this as playing and ended up knocking him to the ground.  Since he had been running with her, he was about 40 feet from us, so it took us a little time to run to him; all the time he was screaming bloody murder.  I don't blame him!  While the dog was just playing with him, she was actually standing over him, slobbering all over his face and clothes.  Imagine an unknown dog, three times your size, standing over you while you cower and pray for your life.

Pictures at home of Tyson's nipped ear.

Ty was done with the Humane Society after that.  He was shaking out-of-control as we walked away from Sadie's look-alike.  I knew that we couldn't leave it like that, or he would be scared of dogs for life, so we asked to see one of the more docile dogs.  We had looked at this particular dog when we first walked in, and since it had barely moved when we walked by the kennel, I figured it would be calm enough for Tyson to pet.  I was right.  Tyson wasn't wrestling the dog in ecstasy, but he did pet him a few times and even fed him a treat from his hand.  We made sure to talk with him about the experience, making sure that he realized that the dog was playing.  We never discounted his fear, because it was nowhere near irrational,  but tried to make him realize that the dog wasn't trying to eat him (Tyson had mentioned to Brennon that he thought the dog had seen him as dinner).

I am not opposed to a dog, per se.  I think I would be more likely to get a little dog.  Preferably house trained.  And didn't bark.  And didn't bite my kids.  One that could be just one more tool to get me better.  Because it is agony not being in control of your mind when you desperately want to be, but just can't.

Back Breakingly Beautiful

In this post, there will be talk about a man named Eric.  I have been working with him since moving to Richland for many different reasons.  I'm not sure how to explain what he does, mostly because it would take a post and a half to even try to explain it.  His approach is very much Eastern medicine, something that is not even recognized in Western medicine circles.  We even joke that he is our 'voodoo doctor.'  I don't know how it works, I just believe that it does.

I have been struggling with intense back pain for a while now; at least since the first of January this 'session.'  It progressively began getting to the point that it was a constant thought, one that had me bending over backwards on our couches many times a day to try and "pop" it.  I even went as far in my mind to think it would be preferable to have my back actually break, to alleviate the pain and pressure.  Brennon had an appointment with Eric for his hives, so I decided to ask him if he could tell me if the pain that I was feeling was a muscle or a nerve.  My bet was on nerve.

The only way to really describe the pain that I was feeling is this: If I moved in a certain way, something would catch or pinch, making it feel that if I moved even a centimeter more, I would pinch it so much that my legs would stop working and drop me to the ground.  Gracefully and very much like a lady in a beautiful heap, but drop me just the same.  It was hard to pick anything up from the ground, I had to really think about the position I was going to use as I bent down.  I kind of looked weird (but still like a graceful ballerina) as I took many different approaches to pick anything up.  It really got on my nerves when I had to think about the best way to pick up kids.  The urge to grab quickly in a flurry of snuggles and kisses was tramped down many times because the could easily escape my grasp.  I usually know how to massage out these types of things, but this pain was behind the lower back "plate."  The two flat, disc bones to are your lower back, hips, and buttocks.  The nerve/muscle was in the left side behind that plate.

So, at Eric's, he had me explain the pain that I was feeling.  He asked a few questions, questioning eyebrow dips making his face look confused, and then looked at me, "Do you have a UTI?"  Um...NO!  I know what those feel like, and this.is.not.that.  So, he asked his questions again, and again, came up with the same conclusion.  I was STUNNED!  I kept telling him that he had to be mistaken, that I had had many UTI's in my life, that I knew that diagnosis without a doubt, and that I seriously believed that it was a nerve.  He treated me for E.Coli and a bunch of other things, and told me to call him the next morning.  I walked away from his office in a daze.  I could NOT explain my confusion.  I had been going to him for a while, never fully being able to explain what it is he does, but believing it works.  And now this...

Miraculously, I felt SO.MUCH.BETTER the next morning.  The constant need for relief was gone.  100% gone.  I no longer felt like I needed to break my back to feel better.  The stunned feeling I felt when he said I had E.Coli/UTI was nothing compared to the stunned feeling of no back pressure.  He was right.  I was less-right.  Because, although the pain/pressure that was now gone from my body, the pain that was most prevalent in my day-to-day life, I still had that one pinch in my left buttock.  It's not to say that now that the other pain was gone this was amplified, 'cause that isn't true.  It still hurt when I bent at certain directions, but it wasn't as back breakingly necessary.  So, I went back to Eric to see if he could help me again.

It was a nerve.  I was almost catatonic at being right.  He did a couple different treatments and told me he would suggest that I get an adjustment from a chiropractor.  I heard him, but it was kind of hard to really listen with all of the "HA!! I told you!!" 's going on in my head.  I knew it was a nerve!

I planned to go to a chiropractor, but didn't get around to it that very week.  I felt a bit of relief from the treatment, but still felt the pinch every once in a while.  I was by no means totally healed from the treatment.  I was reminded of the chiropractic visit every time I needed to bend down.  I even cursed myself for not going when I was almost losing at kickball.  And then I won and all thoughts of pain or chiropractors were lost in the screams and chants of my own triumph.  If I really took the time to think about my behavior, I may be embarrassed about how juvenile I am.  But... then I think about how hard Caden had to run to catch the balls that I kicked, and I'm back to be gloriously smug.  Please keep being my friend.

Randy has taken our kids out each night this week to play kickball.  I have either been too cold, too 90-year-old with my nerve pain, or too out-of-sorts to play, so I would just watch from the comfort of my kitchen.  Thursday I was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, in front of the sliding glass door, watching my kids and Mister play.  My lower back began to kind of ache, so I leaned back onto my fore-arms.  My legs were still cross-legged, my back was resting at one angle of the triangle, my upper-arms were the other angle of the triangle, and my fore-arms were the bottom, fingers reaching towards my pulsing nerve.  I was enjoying myself so much, taking breaths to get even more relaxed, and....POP!  I felt my left back plate slam to the floor.  I'm not sure if the pop that I heard was the release of the back plate, or the actual slamming to the floor.  All I know for certain was that it was loud and it was RELIEF!!!

My back has been getting progressively better each day.

I have been surprised each night to think back on the day and remember that I had more relief than pain the entire day.

I may not have a future as a gymnastics teacher (think Shelby's birthday party), youth sports coach (think kickball), or a plethora of other tricks and trades, but I may have a promising future in chiropractics!!!

My back is getting better!!!

Love

With his arms wrapped around my neck, cheek rubbing against my own, hand sliding down my ponytail from head to ends, Tyson asked, "Mom, do you know why Heavenly Father sent me to you?"

"No, why?"

"Because He knew I would love you so much."

I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

Competitive

Randy was in charge of the Family Home Evening activity on Monday night.  Since I hadn't been fortunate enough to play kickball with the kids, that was the chosen sport.  The kids were jumping with anticipation.  Before we headed outside, Randy pulled me aside for some ground rules.

1. Make sure that you kick the ball to a child each time.
2. Try not to get the little ones out when they are so close to making it.
3. Remember rules 1 & 2.  DO NOT lose it and become competitive!!

Little wonder that he was worried about me.  After all- I am the one that gets most upset when things don't go my way.  Settlers of Catan swiped off the table in a moment of fury... (*cough* please keep being my friend)

I was on my best behavior.  Even when I accidentally hit the pitcher (Tyson) in the face with a semi-hard kick.  Or when I threw the ball to get Brennon out when he was running home.  Those were the only two competitive things all game.  Scouts honor.

It should also be noted that I was inwardly gloating as we walked to the house.  "Girls WON!!!"  We were even short one player!  I was imagining doing a few cartwheels, fist bumps, and banshee screams with my girls on the way to the house.  But I didn't.  Outwardly.  There was a party going on in my head, though.

Mine wasn't the only competitive spirit that should have had a talking to.  Caden was ticked that they boys lost.  And I mean ticked!  He couldn't even look at me.  He was so upset, he was almost in tears.  He walked off the field before the game was even really finished.  He walked home giving thumbs-up without even looking back.  He was saying things under his breath and was just in a foul mood.  It started to really get me mad.  I had tramped down my competitive spirit for a very close game and now he was saying that we lost because the boys were being easy on us.  Oh.No.You.Didn't!!!

A few upset sentences came out of my mouth.  Maybe a threat or three about how I would never play as a family again if he didn't change his attitude, kind of thing.  It never got ugly (relative term), but it wasn't very pretty, either.

And then I had to laugh (after the kids were in bed, of course).  It should come as no surprise that Caden is my son.  We just don't like to lose.  We don't like rules to be eased when we win.  We want to win because we fought hard and won the prize.  We like to play hard and win big.  I can't blame him for being upset.  This is a boy that kept score on the whiteboard in cancer care to show how many times he won me at card games.  And a mom that would gloat to any nurse that came in when I killed it at Skip-Bo.  We both just like to win!

That didn't stop me from playing to win last night.  I didn't kick the ball into Tyson's face (good thing, since we purchased an actual kickball for this game, instead of a beach ball that we previously had been using).  I didn't throw the ball to get Brennon out.  But when it came my turn to kick, I kicked that ball as hard has I could... right in Caden's direction.  That boy had to run to get the balls that I kicked.  And then I laughed the entire time I was running from base to base.  And I cartwheeled, and fist bumped, and banshee screamed with my girls all the way home this time.

Caden: "They won because we went easy on them."

Randy: "No, Caden.  They won because your mom didn't go easy on you!"

You better believe it!

Don't taunt the beast, son.  Don't.Taunt.The.Beast!

Open Up

Randy and I happened to catch an interview on the radio on Saturday night.  It was a bit scratchy, which would have made me change the channel right away, but it captured our attention, for some reason.  I am so glad that we listened.  It was a scientific research piece about how power posing for two minutes before high-stakes situations helps you perform better.  That your brain produces hormones during those two minutes that "increases feelings of power and dominance, risk-taking behavior, action orientations, pain tolerance, and testosterone (the dominance hormone), while reducing stress, anxiety, and cortisol (the stress hormone)."  Scientifically proven- you will do better in a high-stakes situation if you take two minutes to pose.

I searched for the study, finding it easily under Power Pose Research.   After reading through the 20-page study, Randy and I decided to use the research as our lesson for Family Home Evening.  While they don't have many high-stakes events in the near-future (their citations said college admissions, jobs, and venture capital), they could easily get into the habit of striking the pose now  (tests, recitals, talks, debates, etc).  We practiced some of the poses they suggested.  The Superman/Wonder Woman.  The Starfish (as if you just made a touchdown; arms in a V above your head, legs separated). The Boss (feet propped on desk, chest open, hands behind head; the vision of ease).  We set the timer for two minutes and had them recite the phrase "I'm good enough!  I'm smart enough!  And people really like me!!"  We posted the phrase on all bathroom mirrors, asking them to recite it every morning before they left for their day.  This may not hold any value for our eternal progression, but we wanted them to realize that we could help our bodies help us.  The study states: "The acquisition of power causes individuals to feel more positive, in control, and optimistic about the future, and to become more goal-oriented and likely to take action."

I happened to be walking by the bathroom, on my way to my room, when I heard Brennon reciting the phrase.  I peeked in as he finished, smiling when I saw his face.  My Brennon was beaming at himself.  With this small little glimpse, I am hopeful.  If my children leave the house feeling as proud as my little Brennon felt, I will call it a success.  For me, this is just one more tool to help my brain.

(Wonder Woman Pose) "I'm good enough! I'm smart enough! And people really like me!!"

Tender Feelings

BIG HERO 6:

We purchased Big Hero 6 for Brennon's birthday gift.  We went to dinner as a family to a restaurant of his choosing and watched the movie as a family afterwards.  Towards the end of the movie, Tyson whispered, "I am almost crying," and snuggled closer to Randy.

CINDERELLA:

Randy remembered that it was opening day of the new Disney adaptation of Cinderella.  We decided that we would surprise our kids with a matinee.  Again, towards the end of the movie, I heard one of my boys sniffling.  Little Brennon felt the emotion of the AMAZING show.  I was surprised to hear Randy remembered that it was opening day, surprised that he suggested we should go, and even more surprised to hear him say that it was a "buyer" when it was over.  It held the most wonderful message for any age and was absolutely gorgeous.

BAPTISM:

I remember now that I forgot to post about something that happened at Shelby's baptism in January.  When we all sat down after Shelby had changed back into her dress, dry and happy, Brennon leaned over to me and said, "Mom, that made me want to cry."  I knew that my little boy had felt the Spirit as he watched his best friend follow the teachings of Jesus Christ.

How grateful I am for tender hearted little boys.  They may love to wrestle, make forts, use swords, and burp, but they feel deeply in their hearts, too.

Words from Jan Salisbury

Dear Stephanie,
   Please know you are not alone. Someday we will have to share a little personal history - but just know that about 15 years ago Mike and I went through some experiences that I felt should have been 'one and done' - meaning that Heavenly Father would never expect us to go through something like that again - since we had endured through those trials and been faithful. It took about 3 years to really get back on our feet after that experience (PTSD included) - Then my experience this summer with my daughter and losing my father has brought me back to that awful place again. You never suffer the depression and anxiety and PTSD when you are in the middle of everything - you are too busy running on adrenaline and fear (and hopefully faith and prayers) - it is the AFTER that is so tough. Please know that everything will be okay - even if it is pretty awful right now. Know that you are loved! Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers! - Love - Jan Salisbury

Smile ~ it will make you feel better!

Clouds

Caden needed to be to school early this morning to participate in a field trip that he had to earn. He needed to read one book from four different authors on the Cavalcade of Authors list. He blazed through them to be one of fifty kids that could go. He was pretty excited for today. He even purchased a few books to be signed by the authors. I'm happy for him. On the way home from dropping him off, I was treated to a gorgeous sight. 

The sunrise was breathtaking. I captured about 10 pictures at different spots of the drive to capture the one with the most vibrant colors. It was just gorgeous!

As I was pulling into our neighborhood, sad that I would lose the sight behind our homes, I was reminded of something I bore my testimony on this month. After months and months of gray skies, it was so nice to see blue skies for a time. We reveled in the sunshine and hoped to see more. One day, on the way to guitar, we were treated to the most beautiful sunset. And it hit me: Sometimes the clouds that mar the perfect, blue sky make for the most beautiful sunsets. We are given trials that mar our lives, but in the end, will make for a more beautiful existence.   The same can be said for my sunrise. 

When I got home, I wanted to take a picture of my home behind my beautiful tree. You can't see the tree as much, but look at how the clouds and sunrise make our neighbor's home look like it is on fire. 

 My beautiful tree. I'm so glad I get to see it bloom this year. I can already tell today is going to be a good day!

From Tricia Johnson

From Tricia Johnson after being released on Sunday from Relief Society Secretary:

Stephanie, Dear One!

Thank you for your fabulous service!  I saw only the tip of the iceberg of what you did for Relief Society, but you are a bright memory in my first impressions of this ward when we moved here a year ago last summer.  Your energy and cheerfulness really stood out in a sea of new faces.  It was so welcome at that confusing time of transition.

But you know what, you don’t have to be all things to all people.  I think one of the most important tasks Heavenly Father gave us to work on in mortality is prioritizing.  That’s a horribly overused term, but wouldn’t you say this life is about learning what’s important?  I know it was extremely difficult for you to let go of your calling at this time.  But you have plenty of other life callings pulling you in every direction, even inside out.

It’s amazing how many women endure extreme overwhelm.  We’re told repeatedly that all things are possible with God, so there must be something wrong with us if we’re not doing all things.  But there’s timing too.  God doesn’t want us to do it all right now.

A few years ago I was stake Relief Society secretary and I worked to fulfill my calling the best I could.  We had only two children and Ken was around a lot (not traveling for work or having a demanding calling himself) so it should have been a piece of cake.  I had been ward RS secretary twice and this was less work than those callings had been.  But there were too many times I was gone for most of a weekend and things started falling apart at home.  There was no lengthy illness, no specific challenge at home.  It just wasn’t working.  Things kept getting worse while I told myself that stake leaders wouldn’t call me unless Heavenly Father wanted me to have this job at this time.  Surely if I served well I would be blessed at home.  But it just didn’t turn out that way.  I met with the RS president and the stake counselor who had extended the call to me.  They understood my concerns and removed some responsibilities from my plate.  I kept going, but it kept getting worse anyway.

After over a year of trying and struggling, I resolved to fast and pray about asking to be released.  I hated doing that because surely stake leaders were entitled, with their callings, to more of the Spirit to run the stake than I.  And I had never before said no to a calling or asked to be released from one.  But this situation just didn’t seem right for my family.  On that specific fast Sunday I knelt to pray, forming the question in my mind.  “Heavenly Father, should I…”  BAM!  The Spirit hit me like a wall.  I was going to say “should I ask to be released?” and didn’t get it out fast enough.  It was as if He was just waiting for me to come to Him.  I got an emphatic “Yes!”  Knowing I was doing the Lord’s will for me and my family, I asked to be released and immediately life improved.

I share this with you to let you know I understand the feelings of wanting to be everything to everyone, and the feelings of not being able to quite pull it off.  As I said earlier, I and many sisters just in this ward experience extreme overwhelm.  Several times a day I struggle with crying.  I must be doing something wrong or things would be different, right?  Why do simple tasks seem so hard?  I don’t have an answer.  But I do have a little advice.  Focus on what you accomplish, not what got delayed.  “I brushed my teeth today!”  “I fed most of the children today!”  “I took a moment to just look into my husband’s eyes, to acknowledge he’s on the planet!”  Plenty of things don’t get done, but how truly important are they?  That’s my working philosophy to get me through a day.

Be well.  Hug your kiddos.  We all love you so much. 

Tricia J.

Soul Struggles

 Disclaimer: This is very long and very in-depth about something that is very personal and true.  I am not phishing for compliments, or asking for anything.  I have never sugar-coated anything on here.  This is for my children, grandchildren, and family.  It is our family journal.  It is a true test of our family motto- Come What May~ And Love It!

Shortly after cancer care ended, a friend came to visit me and drop off a gift.  A few months after their twin daughters were born, her husband was diagnosed with leukemia.  She has shared with me a few thoughts and feelings, giving me the emotional support that I needed from someone that had been there first hand to watch someone they love deeply suffer through the agony that is cancer.  She told me that I would probably come home and just crash.  Having struggled with depression before, I knew this was going to be the case.  However, I didn't.  Well, not as soon as I thought I would.  We shoved as much summer as we could into the few short weeks that we had, playing card games and just laughed together.  The first scan came with some anxiety about the unknown, but I truly was the happiest I had ever been. I had my family together, healthy and happy.  My current struggles began in Utah in December, when everyone got sick.  More specifically, when Caden got sick.

I had watched my other kids spike fevers and complain of sore throats, even appreciating the times that I got to mother them while being sick.  It had been a long time since I got to be the one to tuck them in, get them drinks, and snuggle then when they were under the weather.  However, I noticed a big change in myself when Caden got the exact same symptoms.  I constantly felt like I needed to ask him how everything felt, almost down to the cellular level.  Well, I understand that you have a fever, but do you feel like anything else is bothering you?  When was the last time you went to the bathroom?  Anything else that you are feeling?  Man, your eyes look so dark, are you sure there is nothing else bothering you?  Oh, you're tired?  Let's have you go to bed at 4:00PM just to make sure that you get all the rest you need.  I was borderline obsessive about the whole thing.  I broke down crying to my mom, saying how I know that it's irrational, seeing as all of the other kids had the exact same thing, but that I couldn't help the obsessions I was feeling.  I would later realize that this was just the beginning.

As time has gone by these last 12 weeks or so, things have progressively gotten worse.  I stated before about how things felt like "nudges" or that Heavenly Father was trying to warn me.  Those times of complete terror felt like that end of the world for me.  Things that would be nothing in another time, in anyone else's life, became huge struggles for me.  The Seahawks making it into the superbowl had me in tears, gasping for breath.  For days.  I just knew that we were headed back to cancer care!  I would obsess over every little thing in my life, most times feeling as if I couldn't breath.  I burst into tears at everything (more than usual) and couldn't understand why things were so much harder for me after cancer care.  Everything escalated to the day of the scan.  I was almost crippled with anxiety as I drove to the hospital for his scan.  I could barely think.  I was convinced that everything would be perfect for me after they gave us the 'all clear' of the scan, if they were able to give us the 'all clear' at all.  In my mind, we were going to be told the worst at that appointment, but this time, someone would have to come and rip my kids away from me at the hospital, not in Richland.

'All clear' was given and I was finally able to breathe again.  I was pretty disappointed when I realized that things just weren't back to my normal.  I had learned to live the new life after cancer, but I just couldn't cope with things that usually didn't bother me.  I was getting more and more upset, pulling away from my kids so that I wouldn't get upset with them for things that they were doing.  I would cry myself to sleep at the thought that their laughter and play arguments sent me up the wall in anger.  I missed my kids playing together so much while being trapped in Seattle, why does it bother me now that they are joking, playing, and laughing loudly?  What is wrong with me?  Then came the news of all-day kindergarten.  I used to pray for such a thing, especially when my child was so ready for school, like Tyson is.  It went beyond realizing that my job description was about to change- it literally felt like someone was taking a choice away from me, that someone was taking my child away from me.  I struggled for days with this news.  I could look at it rationally and be glad that they gave me months to process the news, but I couldn't tell myself this emotionally.  It brought me to, what I thought was, the depths of despair.  And then I got lower.

February 2nd, I was pushed to a limit that I didn't even know really existed for me.  I can't even begin to express how hard it was for me, how much I wanted to leave everything behind.  I was unprepared for the surgery that I knew was going to take place.  When they had Brennon change into that green gown, I about lost it.  When they stopped his medical bed in the hallway, telling him to give mom a kiss before he was taken, and then asking me to take a different path than my child, I felt a piece of myself die.  Again, I could tell my brain that it was only a 15- minute procedure, that I had already had two kids have the exact same thing (although at a much younger age than 6 years and 11 months) but I couldn't tell my heart to stop pounding from my chest.  I couldn't tell my lungs to take enough breath to stop my head from feeling faint.  I could only stop my legs from not lifting me from my seat and running me away from everything.  I began to count.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5... until I was returned to my baby, safe and sound.  And then it got harder.

As I was leading the nurse back to our room (Oh. My. Gosh can you walk any slower?!  Knees to chest, lady, Knees.To.Chest!) I had to remind myself that I knew Brennon was going to be fine.  However, it felt just as scary as being led to Caden's ICU room after his 11-hour surgery that was only supposed to be 6 hours.  As I walked into his room, I almost melted to the floor at his bedside.  He was breathing and sleeping so peacefully, I just wanted to crawl in his bed and hold him.  They told me that he was close to waking, but they wanted me to be with him as soon as I could.  I wanted to kiss them for being so thoughtful.  Little did I know what that really meant. 

I have never been with my kids when they wake from surgery.  I am usually brought back when they are all cleared from anesthesia and breathing without oxygen.  I was completely unprepared to watch him thrash his way out of what looked like a nightmare.  One second he was peaceful, the next he became a monster, pulling against the restraints of tubes, masks, and clothing.  He started to instantly pull at everything, while trying to rub the skin off of his face.  It was all very violent, in my eyes.  It was only for about 3 seconds before he fell back into sleep, but it scared me.  It really scared me.  "That is what it always looks like.  He is going to be just fine."  I heard those words, but I wondered if I was going to be.  The urge, the manic urge, to run was beyond anything I had ever felt.  I wanted to scoop up my baby (like so many times before) and just leave.  I needed to get out of there.  Now!  To their ever-lasting credit, they got me out of there just 10 minutes after he violently woke.  And I broke even more on the way home.

Let me be absolutely clear and to the point, I have never wanted to die.  I have never thought I wanted to hurt myself.  I have never been suicidal.  But on the way home I was placed in a situation that I could have been in a car accident if just one thing were different.  It was not even super close, but it did put one thought into my head that scared me.  I almost wished that I would have gotten into a car accident, one that placed only me in danger, not so I could die, but so I could have an excuse to not be present in my life.  I just wanted to sleep all of these things away.  I wanted to sleep until my mind was rested enough to live again.  I wanted to have an excuse to be away from my kids, one that they would understand.  After all, if mommy had been in an accident, she would naturally need to sleep and would have to be away from them.  It wouldn't be mommy's choice to be away from them, it would be a need.  That way, I didn't hurt their feelings, thus making me feel even more guilty for these emotions that I couldn't control.  Emotions that were making me feel crazy, and sad, and shameful, and angry, and hopeless.  Emotions that I had never felt before in my whole life.  I am a happy person, so why was I feeling so down?  Why couldn't I fix it?  Why was it so hard for me when my children were well, and happy, and healthy, and with me?  What was wrong with me to want to be with my children so much, yet want to be away from them, too?!  I knew then that I needed help.  Serious help.  I am broken.

Randy was in Alaska, but was able to get in contact with our doctor, who happens to be in our ward and took such great care of us with Caden.  Dr. B. said to meet him at his office at 9:00AM.  For the first time in many months, I was making a doctor appointment for me.  After securing the knowledge that I truly didn't want real harm to come to myself, or that I had never wanted to die, he prescribed me anti-depressants.  I had been on them before, so I knew the drill.  I took my first pill by Noon and thought I was well on my way to being fixed in two weeks.  After all, I felt better in two weeks the last time I was on the exact same medicine.  Things have not worked out that way.

It was hard to realize that I wasn't magically fixed after two weeks.  I was still super tired, like I mentioned recently, but I was still struggling with everything.  I became more and more reclusive and depressed.  Some stress may have been my own expectations.  I think I actually made myself stressed because I wasn't where I thought I should be.  I had failed myself.  But I still felt so trapped within my emotions.  A more clear understanding of what may be really going on with me came in the form of fear. 

Even though I am so tired, I find myself having a hard time falling asleep.  On this night, I had just fallen asleep when I heard our door handle squeaking open.  My eyes flew open, my heart started to pound, and my body became hot and sweaty at the sound.  When Caden began to whisper, "Mom, can I get into the bath?  I don't feel well," I was plunged into the depths of ice.  Those are the exact words he said to me on January 30, 2014, the worst night before the nightmare began.  I said that he could and just continued to lay in ice, ears piqued for any sound.  I couldn't move, I couldn't breath, I could just pray that I would stop.  And then Caden started to throw up...

I snapped.

I won't go into detail other than to say that I broke even more.  I can barely write, even now, weeks later.  I can't breathe.  I want to run.  I want to cry until I am spent.  I am struggling.

Time Out For Women couldn't have come at a better time for me.  I was so hopeful to get away from it all.  It was a breath that filled my lungs, if just for a moment.  And yet, it still held some needle-pricks to my heart.  There was a lot of talk about cancer.  Pictures of people in cancer care.  One talk about bilirubin and a diagnosis of cancer had me sweating in my seat.  They never said liver cancer, but I knew it was.  I had to talk myself into staying in my seat.  I counted in my head until I could focus on the speaker's words again.  There was enough good in the weekend to still be able to say that I am so glad that I went, but it was hard, too.  I can't seem to escape anything, fully.

I realize now that it may not be just depression.  I think I am suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.  Maybe that is why I felt better after only two weeks before.  Then, it was just depression.  Now, it is something different.  Something more.  Something much harder to understand and fix without the correct tools.  I need help.  Serious help.  I have another appointment on March 23rd.  And, hopefully with time and tools, I will be able to be me again.  Because, even though I can still see many things to be grateful for, happy about, and loving towards, I don't really know how to make my heart feel anything other than anxiety and stress.  In a way, I can still appreciate the sunshine, but I can't feel the heat on my skin.

Thoughts

While waiting for Cameron to get home so that Jamie and I could leave, I was sitting on the couch, reading.  Tyson was sitting next to me, playing Shelby's phone.

"Mom, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm not sure.  What are you thinking?"

"That we should snuggle."

Son, that is always what I am thinking!

I love my life.

Graduation weekend

I got to go to Time Out For Women in Spokane this weekend. Jamie and I got a pedicure before heading out of town on Friday night. 

Don't judge. This was taken Saturday afternoon. We stayed up late playing games, laughing, and talking, and ended up all looking a bit tired. Still magnificent, but tired. Good times tend to do that to Ya!

We were met a couple of hours later by Mary and her two daughters.

(L to R) Emily, Carly, Jamie, Mary, Mwah 

I take it back. I am the only tired-looking one. 

Through a mix-up with the hotel, we didn't get the two queen-bed room with a couch that we ordered. This meant that one of us slept in a very tight spot. Emily took one for the team. She slept on pillows with extra blankets in.the.closet! Thank you, Emily!!!

While I was away recharging my burnt-out battery, my Mister was being the best. He taught the boys to ride their bikes without training wheels. 

He told Brennon that kids usually learn to ride their bikes before age 6, and he is now 7. Brennon's immediate reply? "Yeah, well I'm only 1." And so Randy's Leap Day birthday wish comes back to bite him. Not to worry, Tyson was all-too ready to learn. 

Look at the Ender!!!

Well, this just would not do! Brennon's competitive spirit woke from it's infinite slumber and reared it's beautiful head. Brennon picked up his bike and learned for himself. 

And just like that, Randy wins the Best Dad In The Universe award, and we have zero training wheels left at the Dirks' home!!!

We got $1.00 cones at McDonald's to celebrate. Since I missed the actual event, we took them out and had them circle around the street light's glow. It made Brennon uber nervous, but he did it for me. I'm sad to say that I didn't have time to grab my pon-pons, but I did bust out a few moves and my cheer-voice for my sons. It was one of those times that I didn't care how crazed/ridiculous I looked, my kids were going to hear me cheer LoUd for their accomplishments. They will always know that their mom will scream at the top of her lungs when they conquer their fears and follow their dreams. 

It also needs to be noted that he taught our kids the wonderful art of kick ball. And he also had them clean the garage and house. I am the luckiest girl in the world. 

Brother Cornwell

From Brother Cornwell after hearing my Testimony on March 1st.:

Stephanie,  I was preparing a talk for next week and pondered this message from President Uchtdorf about our Heavenly Fathers relationship with us.  It reminded me of the testimony you bore this past week, and what I learned from you.  Thank you for all you do.

>     The infinite and eternal Creator of light and life knows you! He is mindful of you.
>     Yes, God loves you this very day and always.
>     He is not waiting to love you until you have overcome your weaknesses and bad habits. He loves you today with a full understanding of your struggles. He is aware that you reach up to Him in heartfelt and hopeful prayer. He knows of the times you have held onto the fading light and believed--even in the midst of growing darkness. He knows of your sufferings. He knows of your remorse for the times you have fallen short or failed.  And still He loves you.
>      And God knows of your successes; though they may seem small to you, He acknowledges and cherishes each one of them. He loves you for extending yourself to others. He loves you for reaching out and helping others bear their heavy burdens--even when you are struggling with your own.
>     He knows everything about you. He sees you clearly--He knows you as you really are. And He loves you--today and always!

BC Cornwell

Inception

Dreams have always been very vivid for me.  Even as a child, I remember having dreams that woke me in a panic, or felt so real they would stay with me for a long time.  For a short period of time when I was a teenager, I actually had dreams where I was "awake" and "seeing" people, although I knew I was dreaming.  I had my eyes open for a while, and would talk in real conversation to people that weren't there, but that I felt guilt if I started to close my eyes.  I knew it was a weird thing, feeling a deep sense of shame that it kept happening, but when it stopped happening, I just moved on.  I've never lost the feeling of weird those dreams gave me.

I've had a few dreams since marriage that we talk about often.  One where I stood up on the bed, stepped on Randy, broke our ceiling fan, and ended up falling off the bed when Randy rolled over.  I was literally woken from a dream by falling off the bed from a standing position.  I've screamed bloody murder and woke myself up.  I've "seen" people without having conversations.  I just have a very vivid brain when it comes to dreams.  This week has given me two new ones.

In one, Randy and I went to something that can only be described as a Puppy Farm.  There were different breeds of puppies all over the place.  Everywhere you looked, there was a puppy.  They were all the cutest little puppies, all wanting to go home with you.  We had our pick of the litter, as it were.  We both went to this "farm" just to look around, promising the other that we were not going to go home with a puppy.  We were just window shopping, if you will.  All those promises went out the window as we both found a puppy that we were sure the other would love.  I don't really remember the particular breeds that we each chose, but I do remember that they were different.  Both adorable, of course.  The dream went on for so long, each trying to convince the other that the puppy they had chosen would be perfect, that I feel in love with my own puppy.  I was sure that it would be perfect for our family.  When I woke up, the dream felt so real.  I almost wanted to look for our puppy.  I knew that it was only a dream, but I tell you, the feeling of loss is real, for me.  It had been so vivid for me, so real, that I seriously feel as if we should have a puppy right now.  I know we wont have a dog any time soon, but, wow, it feels as if I should have one now.  I miss the puppy of my dreams.

The most recent is one that has me pretty spooked.  In my actual dream, I was dreaming.  I saw the dream my dream-self was having.  It was a curious dream, one that had me feeling anxious- both dream-self and my true-self.  The dream's dream ended in a nightmare, scaring me awake in my dream, which then scared me awake in the real.  As I sat there in bed, heart pounding out of my chest, I realized what had happened.  The dream within a dream had felt as vivid as my real dreams do to me.  I had dreamt so deep in my dreams, that I actually felt the dream's dream.  Just like the movie with Leonardo Decaprio, I experienced a sort of inception.  A thought was not placed in my mind, or anything, but I had gone one step further in my dream.  And remember it fully, even still feeling the dregs of anxiety it caused me.  It just leaves me feeling a bit off.

My emotions have been quite manic these last few weeks.  It's no surprise that I am having a period of weird dreams/nightmares, however, it still makes me feel a little psycho.  I feel a loss for a puppy that does not even exist and I actually had a glimpse of something that only happens in a sci-fi movie.  It gives new meaning to the song, "I dreamed a dream..."

Panic

After walking downstairs after the kids got home from school, I was bothered to find coats and backapacks just laying around on the floor.  I put together a system for them to just hang them on hooks- no need to use hangers.  Super easy.  So I didn't even realize that Brennon wasn't there.

"Mom, where is Brennon?  He didn't ride the bus home."

I was a bit confused.  Why wouldn't he have ridden the bus?  So instead of looking at all of the mess in the front room, I started to look for my son.  Calling out to him, sure that Shelby must have just been wrong for some reason, I started to get pretty nervous.  Where was Brennon if he didn't ride the bus home from school?

I called over to Jamie to ask Evelyn if she knew where Brennon was, since they are in the same class at school.  She said that Brennon had left class early to go to an appointment.  That just could not be!  I quickly hung up with Jamie and immediately started dialing the school.  It was torture to look for shoes when all I wanted to do was run out the door.  The urge to run intensified when they said they had no idea where he could be.  By this time, school had been out for 30 minutes.  She put me on hold to call over the loud speaker for him.  The 1.5 mile drive to the school felt like an eternity.  Why can't they find Brennon?

I was about half-way to the school when she came back on the line.  "Have you heard from Brennon at all?"  No.  Nothing.  And then I turned a corner and found him.  Walking home.  I have never slammed on my breaks as hard as I did at that moment.  I didn't even look both ways before jetting out to grab him.  He wasn't even upset at all.  It was now 40 minutes past school being out and he was just walking home- not a care in the world.  The ladies and I were on the extreme opposite of that spectrum.  I got him in the car and headed to the school.  We all wanted answers.

Here's the story:  Brennon had gone to the office with extreme asthma.  The nurse called Randy, but with only 15 minutes before the end of school, Randy told them to send him back to class and that he'd get his inhaler when he got home.  Brennon heard it like this, "Your dad will be here to get you."  So, he went back and told Mrs. F. that he needed his stuff and went back to the office.  However, the nurse didn't know this, which meant neither did the office, so they didn't notice Brennon go and sit on the green chairs, waiting for Randy to come get him.  The bell rang, the kids were released, and Brennon just continued to sit on the chairs, unnoticed.  A while later, he left the green chair to come look for Randy.  Since the office wasn't watching for him, he just walked out.  The doors locked at the designated time, so he couldn't get back in to call us.  So, he just started walking home.

While all of this was coming to light, an attendant jogged in the door, sweat dotting her forehead, and gasped when she saw him.  She bustled over, grabbed him in a big hug, and asked, "Where were you?!"  She was just as overcome as I had been.  While I don't wish to scare anyone like this, it touched my heart that she was so scared for my son.  We all were.  There were five emotional women circled around my little boy, all on the verge of tears to have him back.  And all the while, my little Brennon just looked up at us with those big brown eyes, and grinned.  He was never scared in the first place, so he was pretty confused by all of the attention.  Fortunately it was all just a big miscommunication. 

Maybe I need to get Brennon's ears checked.  Oh wait...

Dance Party

First off, look at that little body.  I will say, I do miss that age.  But, only because I miss those baby arms.  And baby legs.  And baby skin.  And baby smell.  I don't miss the stress or tantrums.  That is all.

Last night after dinner, we all pitched in to clean the basement.  We usually never work on Sunday, but the house was a bigger wreck than most other Sundays.  To prove how much we did, I'm going to admit to doing something that I usually never do.  Even the thought of doing it gives me hives.  The aversion runs deep, my friends.  Deep!  We did dishes by hand.  A whole sink's worth of dishes.  After we had already filled the dishwasher strategically and to the max.  We were down to using our hands as bowls for cereal with milk.  Desperate times at the Dirks' house.

While all of the work was happening, there was plenty of noise.  Mostly arguing and complaining, but we won't mention that in detail.  However, there was one little boy that was not participating in the contention.  In fact, he brought levity to the whole situation.  While chaos was happening all around, not a place to step without mess, not a place to look without spotting something that could be put (*cringe* or thrown) away, Tyson spun around and proclaimed, "There is nothing to do, but dance!"

I'd like to say that we all stopped what we were doing and just danced, but that would be a lie.  I was stressed to the max and more than a little grumpy.  I had had a headache (bordering migraine many times) since Thursday.  The thought of cleaning everything by myself Monday morning (hoping that the headache would finally ease) had me wound pretty tight.  Randy and I had a good laugh before I became 'Micro-Manager Mom', pointing out all that still needed to be done.  My head felt like it was about to explode, but I kept the devil horns from sprouting.  The whip was cracked, but my voice stayed calm.  The house got cleaned.  The headache has left.  And now I can dance... 

On mountains of laundry.

It's a good life.