I Married Superman

How do you know if you've got a good man? Well, if he's willing to put others above himself, stay cheerful in times of trial, knows when to keep his mouth shut, doesn't take things personally, works really hard, doesn't let fear stop him, keeps his promises, says he's sorry, doesn't make excuses, treats every woman with respect, gives up his seat to elders, picks up little children when they're crying, helps unload the groceries, listens to how your day went and saves his best smile for you, he's AMAZING. Keep that guy around.

Sometimes I can't believe how blessed I am. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that my husband loves me. Loves ME. LOVES me. How unlikely. How impossible. And how true. How and why did he ever fall in love with me in the first place? I thought at the time and I have thought since, that it is a miracle.

Because it is.

I used to talk about my husband all the time with girlfriends. Listening, really, as all these women playfully criticized their soulmates. Again and again the complaints would come out. "He doesn't help around the house. He won't change diapers. He gets ticked off when..." It was social murmuring, a time of "getting it out" and sharing. I'm a social person and the exercise seemed harmless enough at the time, but I honestly couldn't think of anything negative to say about my husband. Not one thing.

They'd all be complaining because their husbands all did something or other, and I'd have to admit, "My husband doesn't do that." I hadn't learned to keep my mouth shut, and why should I? My love is sweet and deserves to be praised. I don't want anybody talking bad about him, especially me. Other women didn't see it that way.

I must have been pretty convincing in my praise, because they all believed my husband to be sweet and clever and good. They just didn't think that I deserved him. Since I never took the trouble to brag about myself, they just assumed that I was a grouchy, horrible wife, who was all take and no give and who would soon be divorced. Ouch.

I'm going to skip all the "Where do they get off" outrage at their presumptions and just get to the part where they insulted my husband's intelligence. Sure, he's smart, sweet, good natured, hard working, determined, a veritable superman, but he can't tell that the girl he's dating is a complete witch. Anybody that nice is bound to be unhappy in marriage because nobody will ever be as nice to him. It's a mystery why he seems so happy. He'll eventually catch on and dump her.

I actually received long, unsought and downright nauseating lectures on all that I must do to keep him. Under constant attack, I found myself obliged to declare that I did do nice things for my husband. I'm angry just thinking about it. Not because anyone would be that... [choose your own adjective here] but because I put up with it for as long as I did. I'm angry at me.

I'm getting over it, and so must everyone else. I intend to brag about my husband any time the subject is mentioned and anyone who doesn't like it is welcome to leave. There will be no man-bashing here. There is no one to bash. My husband is awesome!

A dinner 

It's been seven years now and he still hasn't seen the light and dumped me. I wonder if my constant admiration for him has anything to do with it? (Or maybe dinner?) It's probably true that on some level, I don't deserve him. I might be called upon to acknowledge that on some level, he might not deserve me. But I won't. Our imperfections fit together, like those brain puzzles he's so fond of working. Together, we're pretty amazing and since I see him best when we're together, I see perfection.

If anyone wants to get together to brag about their men, I'm in. Better yet, let's write it all down, give it to our husbands with a [whatever thing they like] and see if it doesn't work for another seven years. Or maybe seven hours. Whatever.

Happy Crazy Backwards Day--True Confessions of a Working Mom

Being a mom is hard work. Being a Mormon mom is a blessing with lots of responsibility. Being a working Mormon mom is like trying to juggle EVERYTHING! Show up. Look nice. Be nice. Get the job done. Try and keep your priorities straight.

 I love being a wife, a mom and a Mormon. Especially with angelic help, which I believe I am entitled to. I  try hard. I really do. HOWEVER, sometimes, I get a little mixed up. Or a lot mixed up. And it's usually funny. (If it's not funny now, it will be in ten years.) If I can't be perfect, I am at least going to laugh. Here's a story of how all my ambitions and good intentions went completely backwards.

 The backwardness actually started with my working all night, and then going to bed while my family was waking up. Things just got crazier from there. I sat around all day trying to wake up and forgot to eat, so I was starving by the time I left my home, where my husband was MAKING DINNER, to go hang out with some girlfriends, where I knew there would be no food. I even had a headache coming on. That backwardness was just the beginning. I realized that I had forgotten my sewing machine, that my hair and makeup were not done, and I was headed to a craft night with two very pretty ladies who never forgot to do their hair and makeup. This is going to be good.

When I arrived at my friend's house, I found that no one was at home, they all having gone to the fabric store. One friend had sent me a text of the change of plans but it was unclear to me (probably I was reading it backwards) and the other friend's text ended up somewhere in Hawaii (where I would like to be but in the interest of opposites, reversals and backwardness, I was not there to receive my text.) My husband advised me to come home and bring back a movie for us to watch together. At that point, I really wanted to, but my friends felt so bad for the crazy communication that leaving now would have been cruel and insulting.

I sat there in my car, watching the house and being as creepy as possible. (Actually, I was watching Internet videos and so missed the exact moment of arrival.) After forty minutes of this, I finally went inside and had a great time eating candy and popcorn for a nutritious dinner and watching the same movie I would have seen with my husband that night. No crafts after all. Once the movie was over, I declared that I needed to go home, sent a text to my husband to that effect, and then proceeded to stay another twenty minutes.

 Having asked hubby to get a movie for us to watch, I went home expecting to snuggle up in my messy house. What I found was a much tidier house than I had left. Backwards, but a good backwards. There was no movie. I checked my phone, (which had been on silent the entire night!) and found a message from my love, asking me to get the movie, as the kids were in bed. There was no time for it anyway. Oh, well. Might as well go to sleep, which he immediately did. Having slept all that morning, a REM cycle was much more difficult for me to achieve. I knew I was going to be up late, which was bad, because I expected company in the following early afternoon and the house was not up to par. I finally drifted off into a troubled dream state and that was the official start of my Crazy Backwards Day.

The alarm must have rung eighty times before my husband got up and took our oldest son to school. The knowledge that my youngest boy would tear apart the whole house in short order was enough to drag me out of bed too. Hubby and Denny were gone and hot cereal was on the table. Perhaps it was a nod to Opposites Day but whatever the reason, my husband had switched the bowls--not the portions, just the dishes around, giving the toddler a giant bowl and reserving the baby bowl for me. Good, I thought, I'm just going to embrace it all. If this is backwards day, bring it on.

I ate my breakfast, calling down blessings upon my hubby's head for it, and then decided to clean the house. I was totally exhausted, but GUESTS WERE COMING and the house must be in order. I started by unloading the dishwasher of all the dirty dishes that I had put in there clean the day before. (Backwards is beautiful.) I planned the meal I would cook, (pasta with homemade sausage) and grabbed all the grody towels and stuffed them into the washer. I went to dress and was combing my hair when a ginormous wave of fatigue jumped on my face and beat me into submission.

"You need a haircut and a bath," I told my son as I changed back into my pajamas. "I'll cut your hair in a little while" and I lay down on top of the blankets in my unmade bed. "You have time to get some cleaning done while Mommy is napping." With that, I slept like a baby, which means I woke up all the time and screamed. "Leave the fridge alone! Don't break that! Turn the water off! Did you clean your room? That's too loud!"

I eventually got up. It was time to pick up my son from school, so naturally, I started frantically cleaning my house again. After a while, I knew that my guests would be arriving, so I immediately left the house. They texted me that they were running late. Perfect. Me too. I picked up my son, and returned home to find peeps on my porch. They looked surprised to see me in my pajamas but I just smiled and asked if they'd been waiting long. Once we got inside, I wanted to be the best host ever, so I left them all alone in the living room while I changed into slacks and a sweater.

The house was presentable, sort of. The bathroom was cleaner than it looked and the living room looked cleaner than it was. I started making a late lunch and needed my apron, only to remember that it was still in the washer. I didn't get a chance to talk much. My kids were doing plenty of that anyway. My four-year-old got so excited that he kept shouting. Every time he did this, he disturbed the baby, which disturbed his mama, which disturbed all of us. Things were going great.

After a while, my guests said they had to go visit other friends and so departed with hugs. My oldest son burst out crying because they couldn't stay, and screamed after they left because nobody would leave him alone. He got a timeout and then we ate our pasta and sausage by ourselves. It was delicious. Heedless of the cold outside, my boys ate huge glasses of ice and played Ghost in the Graveyard in daylight.

This has been about the best Backwards Day ever, although, my poor guests got the brunt of it. Someday I'll have them over again and I will be at home, on time, and dressed. The only thing I want to do now is watch the second half of a girly movie and then cuddle to sleep with my love.

 My boss just asked me to come in for an evening shift. I guess I'd better change into my work clothes. Now if I can just pull these pants over my head and work my feet through the sleeves of my work shirt, I'll be set. I'll head to my job as soon as hubby gets home from his. When I come back, I'm starting this day over. When you run a backwards day in reverse, it comes out right. (If you get enough sleep.)

I Took All Their Toys...And They Like It.

I like toys. I think they're cool and I like trying out new ones. I rarely buy them though, because I hate clutter and my kids hate cleaning. I only buy brand-new toys for birthdays and Christmas. That's 2 per child, 2 days a year, times 4 years. That is 16 toys. So WHY do we have so many?!? Somewhere, the math isn't working. Okay, so there's the occasional thrift-store yes, like the toy vacuum (I wish it were real) and the light saber. My kids also earn money for chores and they sometimes buy toys. Then there are the gifts from friends and relatives. But considering how many things they break, lose and give away, you'd think it would balance out.

 Some of you are laughing now. You know what I'm talking about. It never balances out! In fact, there is a tremendous worldwide imbalance. All the kids in less-developed countries who don't have any toys, ever wonder why? They're all in my house, that's why! (The toys, not the kids.) It's time to correct the imbalance! I'm sending the toys back to Uganda.

Here's the story. One night, I had told my kids to clean their room for the billionth time, only to hear once again that it was too hard. You know what? I believed them. I came in with a handful of large trash bags and said I was coming in to help. They believed me. One by one, we gathered up all the toys, organizing them by category, and stuffed them ALL into the bags. The kids looked relieved and never complained or protested. The bags went into the attic but we can't keep them all. Some really will have to be sent away and I still want to help out needy kids. I'm just not sure how to get them to Africa. In any case, my boys have not had to pick up toys in a week and they're much more relaxed.

I wouldn't recommend such a drastic approach in most cases, but we've seen some neat results from this experiment. Here's what happens:

My children are much more creative in their play. They have to be. They're building tents out of blankets, dressing up with sheets, and playing music with dishes. They're building puppet theaters using cardboard. (They don't have any puppets so Daddy's old socks might get repurposed.) They pretend to be gates, bridges, trees and banana splits. This afternoon, they were giving one another horsey rides. They appreciate shadows, colors and music more. The few straggler toys that escaped the sweep are much more enjoyed.

The boys are much more interested in learning about whatever I'm doing. Today they helped me assemble first-aid kits for their emergency bags and I taught them about preparedness. They talk to me more and tell me about their lives. They read more. My older son is teaching his little brother the alphabet.

I guess less really is more. Less is also less. Less whining, less TV and less mess. Less time looking for things, less fighting over things. Less time worrying about THINGS and more time with PEOPLE. I think this experiment is a success, more or less (I just had to do that.)

Playing with toys helps children learn about their world and be more like their parents. Not having toys does that too. I'm wondering what tomorrow will bring. Will my children start cooking and thinking that laundry is fun? Will they get excited about real tools and real vacuums? We'll have to wait and see. I'm sure that I'll bring the toys out of the attic sometime. But not today. Today, I'm a caterpillar, crawling around in a vegetable garden. So I can't go in the attic, can I?

8 Foods I Never Have to Buy Again

I'm no chef and there are days when I don't like cooking, but there are just some foods that I make myself, as opposed to buying them. Okay, so some of these my husband has to make. Still, they're always tasty. Most are cheaper and all are healthier than the store-bought versions.

1. Yogurt
Yogurt is so easy to make and so much cheaper than buying it, making your own is a no-brainer. All you need is milk, a thermometer and a tiny bit of plain yogurt to start with. If you save a little bit from every batch you make, you'll never have to buy it again. You can read these recipes and here's mine. Heat 1 Qt. milk to 110 degrees F, in a saucepan, stirring constantly. Add 2 Tbs yogurt and whisk in. Pour all into a Mason jar, tighten the lid and wrap in a dishtowel. (I stuff mine into an oven mitt sometimes.) Place in oven, close the oven door, turn on oven light and set timer for 8 hours. I always remove the knob so nobody can turn my oven on. Yogurt is ready in time for breakfast. Refrigerate when done. (If you want fruit or berries, add them at the end.)

2. Salad dressing
            Ranch: Use some homemade yogurt and add just a few small pieces of garlic and onion. Salt, pepper and dill to taste. (You can use fresh or dried garlic, onion and dill.) It tastes better after at least one day in the fridge. This stays good for about a week and a half.
            Vinaigrette: 3 parts olive oil, 1 part vinegar. Diced onions, garlic and peppers if desired. Salt and pepper to taste. For variations, try different types of vinegar or add a dash of sugar. You can refrigerate this but I don't.

3. Barbecue Sauce
Start with a tomato sauce base. For 12 oz of tomato sauce, stir in blackstrap (no sulpher) molasses until the sauce is the color you want (dark red-brown). Stir well. Add a dash of mustard powder and a spoonful of vinegar. Add a sprinkle of garlic powder, paprika .Salt and pepper to taste.

4. Hot Chocolate
Heat some milk, add cacao and your choice of sweeteners until it tastes the way you like it. I like honey. For variety, heat a cinnamon stick or peppermint leaves with your milk. Or, in place of half the milk, try substituting your favorite tea (blueberry is delicious.)

5. Peanut Butter or Nut Butters
Toast the nuts (toast them in the oven on broil and stir), put in blender, run until smooth, smash it down as you go, salt if desired. Try this link.

6.Egg Nog
It tastes even better than store-bought and you don't have to wait 'til Christmas. 1 Qt. milk in blender. (I like to add extra cream.) 1 raw egg*.  Add a couple tablespoons of sugar--or more if you like, and a sprinkling of nutmeg. This recipe sounds good too but I'd leave out the alcohol. *Note: uncooked eggs may contain harmful pathogens.

7. Hot Wings
Frozen chicken wings, some butter and a bottle of Frank's Original Hot Sauce. The recipe is here. Way cheaper to make than buy, and super good made fresh.

8. Granola
The nuts, seeds and berries for this dish make it expensive to get started, but you can make many batches before you have to buy more. It also has no dyes, artificial or "natural" flavors, no preservatives and it tastes really good. My husband is the granola maker in our home and he varies the type of nuts and fruits based on what we have in the house. It always turns out yummy. We use all organic ingredients so it's pretty expensive, but not as expensive as buying organic granola. Here is the recipe.

I still want to try making my own gelatin, flavored and colored with fruit juice. Someday I'll jerk my own beef. I love learning new recipes. Which ones are your favorites?

Why I Didn't Wait to Have Children

As Latter-Day Saints, we have an interesting culture. We believe in having children, and anytime a couple is newly married, we assume that they want and will have kids. We assume that they will have a child within two years, and probably more than one child at some point. We are not bad people for having these assumptions; they're often based on real life and what we've seen. The problem arises when we carry our assumptions too far, and start telling people they have to fit into a mold based on our expectations.

I have been guilty of this. Based on my perception of today's Latter-Day Saint culture (notice I said culture, not doctrine) I assumed that a  couple who did not announce pregnancy in the early stages of marriage was "waiting".  Boy, was I wrong! They had wanted children from day one and my verbalized assumptions caused them pain. I was told in no uncertain terms to "Mind my own business!"

I was shocked. Everywhere I went, people asked other people when and how many children they planned to have. It was "normal". When I spoke to this couple, I meant to show them that I supported their right to make decisions about their family. I learned something: supporting them is not my job. Short of being their doctor, bishop or therapist, there is no necessity, no reason whatsoever, for thinking about how many children SOMEONE ELSE wants to create and when. I can't think of any righteous purpose that would be served by it.

As Elder Neil L. Andersen told us in October 2011 General Conference,

 When to have a child and how many children to have are private decisions to be made between a husband and wife and the Lord. These are sacred decisions—decisions that should be made with sincere prayer and acted on with great faith.

There you have it. Not only is it not our decision, it is private. And just like all private things, we have no business speculating about them. If  someone voluntarily shares their decision with us, we should be kind, realizing that they have shared something private and sacred, like a testimony.  We are not being called upon to agree or disagree.


I Come From A Large Family

I grew up in a family that believed and taught that birth control was a literal tool of Satan to prevent Heavenly Father's spirit children from gaining bodies. Anyone who "planned" their family using any method other than abstinence was evil or deceived. I don't particularly like that philosophy, not just because there are legitimate and unselfish reasons for preventing pregnancy (severe medical conditions that require heavy medications, for instance,) and not because it is a seriously harsh judgment we are not called upon to make.

I don't like that philosophy because I've seen many instances where people would have a lot of kids--providing bodies for those spirits--and not pay any/enough attention to the raising of them. I don't want to be a judge of these people. I just feel bad for the kids, so often raising, and raised by, their siblings. I was born in such an environment, and while I do not condemn my parents--they were doing the best they knew how--I wished to approach parenting in a different way.

I Really Like Kids

My whole life I wanted kids--lots of kids! My childhood was not all bad and living with eleven siblings had taught me to love children and want a house full of them. I used to shock people for fun by telling them I wanted fifteen children, never being quite sure I'd find a willing husband.(That number has fluctuated a lot over the years.) When my husband and I became engaged, we took the matter very seriously. He came from a family of three and the full-house concept--and budget! frightened him a little. I wanted babies right away, and he wanted to wait a year. We were both in school and working, not making much money. I knew that it was not my decision. It was OURS. We talked about it. We prayed. We went to the temple. I did research on birth control, namely, finding out what it was.

Here's what we learned: God is the Maker and Sender of all spirits. He has commanded us to multiply and replenish the earth so we can rejoice in our posterity. We know that when the Lord commands He also prepares a way. He will not send us more than we can handle, and He will help us all the way through to the end. We made the decision to... do nothing. We left it in His hands. We would not use birth control unless medically necessary and we never have.

It seems crazy sometimes to think of how poor we were, but never wanted for anything. We never went hungry, never had to move back in with our parents, and we had FUN. We have been so blessed, especially through others--strangers sometimes-- who reached out to help. The Lord really has opened and continues to open the way for us. We have both continued our educations and have not been hindered by being parents. And we have rejoiced.

Our children are so sweet and funny and we wish we could have more. Someday...it's still in the Lord's hands. Meanwhile, we are blessed by our two little boys. When they say, "Mommy, I'm happy. We're a family" it melts my heart. When they cover my desk with drawings of superheroes, I feel like the luckiest woman alive. And when they put their arms around my neck and cuddle at bedtime, I know that this is what Heaven was meant to be like. My little bit of Heaven, here on earth.

"Mommy, I'm happy. We're a family."

I hope that everyone gets to feel their bit of Heaven. No matter what happens, though, let us not judge others for waiting, or not waiting; for wanting many or wanting few; for spacing or not spacing. Let us withdraw our minds from the sacred and private decisions of others. The Lord has it covered and no one is more qualified for the job. For my part, I'd rather be rejoicing.

Why Miscarriage Sucks

Just about a year ago, I had my third miscarriage in a row.* I know that many women have had more than I have. I won't say that my situation or my sorrow are worse than anyone else's. I won't say they're better either. Frankly, it sucks any way you look at it. Ladies and gentleman, can we agree? Miscarriage sucks! And I could use a lot of other words in regards to it but I won't. If you've had one or more miscarriages, you will understand all that I say and more. If you've never had one, please allow me to tell you. You'll be able to show empathy for others. You might learn what not to do. Here we go.

How You Feel

As soon as you find out you're miscarrying, you are no longer pregnant. You'll still feel sick, you still get emotional for no reason, you're still exhausted and you're still fat. (Except, now you'll lose blood and get sicker and more tired and actually have a reason to be emotional.) It's like being pregnant but you're not. You will get all kinds of contractions, similar to labor, and have absolutely nothing to show for it. (You'll actually give birth to a baby, only it'll be dead.) People will ask you how your pregnancy is going and you'll have to decide if it's more painful to tell them you miscarried or to endure their congratulations and personal stories. See my post on coping strategies.

If you find out at a routine doctor visit, he/she may recommend that you wait for a natural miscarriage to occur. You're not pregnant but you haven't miscarried. You're somewhere in between and you get to explain it to... way too many people. Again and again while you wait to miscarry. Or you can get a D&C under general anesthesia. You skip the in-between bit and the doctor uses suction to remove "products of conception".  Miscarriage sucks, literally. (You can also stay awake for the procedure, but if there's a way to make the whole process suck worse, this is it.)


You might feel like you've wasted other people's time. All the friends who brought you juice or a meal because you were feeling sick didn't need to bother after all. You might feel the unfairness of all the fun things you skipped while you felt ill or were busy being careful--and for what? You might as well have taken that cruise or hiking trip to Ireland because then you'd have something happy to look back on. 

You might feel the unfairness of all the sweet babies who were born, only, not to you.

Telling People You Miscarried

While you're UN-announcing the birth of your darling, sweet baby who you've been dreaming about and planning for with the happiest and tenderest thoughts, people might say stupid things to you. Stupid like, "You'll have another baby." (If that reduced pain, people who lost their beloved spouses would feel no regret because they could always marry again.) Stupid like, "You still have your other children." (Yes, I know. So, if one of your friends dies, you're not gonna feel sad because you still have other friends, right?) Stupid like, "You should try not to get so emotionally involved." (What? With my baby? Hellooo! That's not a thing!) Stupid like, "So-and-so's miscarriage was worse." (Are you saying that she loved her baby more that I love mine? Do you know that's a ridiculous position to take?) Or stupid like, "So you had a miscarriage. You don't need to get jealous of people with babies." (Clearly, you have never had a miscarriage.) Or, stupidest of all, "You should stop trying." (That's so worthless that I can't even address it right now.)

With all that discouragement, you might prefer to push people away rather than asking for support. You might even develop a seething rage. It's a good thing some people listen better than they talk. Not everyone will say something dumb. And some people really do understand. You'll know because they help instead of hurt.

Grief And Healing

The first three days are the hardest, and filled with inner conflict. You struggle to comprehend the reality of your situation, without wanting to. You fight through numbness, or embrace it because it beats the pain. You don't want anyone around. You do want some company. You don't want pity. You need some sympathy. You don't want to talk about it. You wish someone would listen.  You feel angry at people for not taking away the pain. You know that they can't. You feel guilty for wanting the pain gone. You feel like you're drowning in sorrow. You don't want to ask for help. What would help anyway? You wish people would understand what you want. You don't know what you want. Yes, you do. You want your baby back. It's a nightmare. You sleep with the light on.


After two weeks, it has noticeably gotten easier. It is by no means easy. You appreciate the help your friends and family give you. Flowers cheer you a little, and you cling to any bit of cheer you can get because you are tired of being sad. You pack your day full of activities, without knowing if you enjoy them. Distracting yourself helps you get through but doesn't help you heal. Eventually, you have to face the pain as you look down at the place where your baby used to be and say, "I really wanted you." Crying actually helps. A lot. Therapy is useful for "getting it out."

A month or so later, everyone seems to have forgotten about it and gone back to their lives. You feel very alone because you're still in pain but don't want to ruin somebody's day by talking about it. People have stopped asking how you are and how they can help. You take the hint and if anyone does happen to casually ask how you are, you say that you're fine. You are a liar. You don't feel fine at all. You just think nobody cares. Not surprisingly, you feel depressed. The hormones don't help.

This is when you really need a support group. This is when you not only feel strong enough to hear others' stories, but need to share your own.

What To Do About It

1. Give yourself time.

 Your feelings are normal. Express your feelings, don't hold them in.You can write it down in a "therapy journal", as my sister the counselor told me. It helps. (Seriously. It's just a private notebook where you write down whatever you feel, without judging yourself for feeling it. Once you're done, you get do decide if your thoughts are really true. If they are, you keep them. If they're not, you replace them with true thoughts. You can do this as often as you like.) You can join an online forum or support group.  You can comment on this blog. I have personally found therapy to be very helpful.

2. Do it.

 Ruin somebody's day. Actually, that's a myth. Your loss can't ruin anybody's day because no one will feel it the same way you do. But they still care.

This line shows how it works.

                                 feeling my pain------------------------------------- not caring

All your friends (and even some strangers,) who know about your experience are going to care. Nobody is going to be anywhere close to not caring. They only show it differently.
     
                                feeling my pain-----------^------------------------- not caring

All your friends are already feeling some of your pain because they love you and they have empathy. Talking to them about it will not cause them to feel more pain. It will allow them to release it by helping you heal. When you feel better, they feel relieved. So go to your nicest friends, the ones best able to help you heal, and talk to them. They might be afraid of making it worse. So tell them what you really need. A listener. A cook. A hug. Somebody to make you laugh really hard. Maybe advice. And if someone gives you advice that's not helpful, TELL them why it's not helpful.

3.Create A Memorial

 I know the feeling of holding onto the pain of loss, because the pain is all you have left of your baby. I learned that it doesn't have to be that way. Writing letters to each one of my babies helped me feel that they were not lost. Or maybe, that I was not lost. Creating a memorial helps you let go. Choosing to remember the good on purpose helps you release the bad. You might write down your feelings about your baby and put it into a special box with ultrasound photos, baby shoes or whatever you wish. You can make a book, light a candle, or write letters to your little one. Any way you choose to celebrate your baby will help you feel less disconnected. There is no time limit. You can start anytime and continue as long or as many times as you wish.

15 Ways To Help A Grieving Parent

1. Spend time with them. They'll talk if they want to.
2. Don't lecture, analyze or give advice unless they ask. 
3. Give gifts
              A. To help with a memorial: A candle, personalized home decor item, a book,or card
              B. Or to just cheer them up: Flowers, a massage, a getaway for two they can use when they want, organic chocolate, fresh fruit, night on the town.
4. Give hugs often.
5. Don't talk about baby shopping, new babies, pregnancy or death unless they bring it up.
6. Don't assume that because they already have children that their pain is somehow less. It's not.
7. Take walks with them. Exercise helps release stress.
8. DO NOT get angry at them for the way they grieve. Everyone grieves differently.
9. PLEASE offer to clean their house and then follow through.
10. Take them out to their favorite restaurant or a botanical garden. Get them out of the house.
11. Offer to babysit. If they say no, offer again in a couple weeks.
12. Be a good listener.
13. Be available.
14. Don't assume they will "get over it" quickly. Grief is a process and can take decades.
15. Be supportive.

We Can Do This

I have good days and bad days. It's not over yet but I know my limits. I won't go to baby showers. I won't watch Up, Marley And Me or any other movie that portrays  miscarriage. I will give baby gifts, hugs and lots of sympathy to anyone who needs it. We can all get through this, especially if we stick together. Believe it. Know it. This isn't over yet. Great times are still coming. And right now great times sound a lot like a Jacuzzi tub and a really good hamburger. Ladies and gentlemen, can we agree? Jacuzzi tubs are awesome! And hamburgers. I am so getting one now.


Edit: A brand-new book about finding hope is coming out February 10, 2015. It is called Little Boy Blue: Finding Hope After Miscarriage. You can read my story and 14 others about grief, healing and finding the light. Proceeds go to charity. Here is the link. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00S3IZGM8

*Edit:  May 2016, I've now had 6 miscarriages.

Babysitting Requests. What's Appropriate?

There's no denying, parenting is hard and that's why we need to help each other out. Free babysitting is a gift, a miracle even, but we don't want to use it all up. Here's a set of guidelines to help us give and receive the gift of babysitting. To everyone who has ever helped me out, THANK YOU!

Rules
Give as much notice as you can.
The sitter may say no, without explanation.
Make the sitter's job as easy as possible.
Establish when, where and how long.
Discuss diet and discipline.
Send any needed accessories.
Tell the sitter in advance if your child is sick.
Come back on time.
Frequent requests should come with benefits. Trading babysitting or cash payment is fine.


Q&A

1. What is the appropriate time frame?  It's all about how much energy I have and making it last. For infants, two hours max, unless I've tended your baby before I think I can do longer. Toddlers, three hours. The older the child, the longer the time. If I'm watching more than one child, time decreases.

2. Will you babysit over night? If your child will go to bed and actually sleep, yes. If I have to bounce your child all night, then no. I do make exceptions for emergencies.

3. Will I feed your child? Sure, if he's not too picky. If he only eats certain foods, has allergies or visits frequently, send food with him.

4. Will I administer medicine? No. If medicine is necessary, please medicate your child before you leave.

5. Will I spank your child? No. I will do a time-out. If many time-outs are needed, I will probably not want to babysit often.

6. What qualifies as an emergency? If you or a close family member is in the hospital or passes away, that would be an emergency. If you get called into work suddenly, that would be less of an emergency. If you get arrested, that's an emergency but you should call your mother and not me. :) If you want to go shopping, it's not an emergency.

7. What will you expect of my child? I expect that your child will share reasonably well, not hit anyone or break anything on purpose, help with cleanup, and in general, do as he/she is asked.

8. Will you drop what you are doing to help me out? I will if it is an emergency. Otherwise, no.


Once again, thank you to all my kind peeps who have stepped up for me. And thank you to all my good friends who make it easy to say yes when you ask for help. You know who you are.

Pulling Pranks for Christmas

My husband and I have been together for eight Christmases and we have started some pretty cool Christmas traditions. We like to do a nativity,  see Christmas lights, play our instruments, cook something new and put all the decorations away as soon as possible. (The longer they're out, the shabbier they get.) We also pull pranks on my in-laws nearly every year and is it ever fun! You'd think they'd un-invite us by now, huh? They must secretly like it.

Bananas for Mistletoe

Living room nativity

Some people play tricks on April Fools but not us. We do December Fools. That doesn't mean vandalizing nativities. It just means fun. The first year, nobody saw it coming. Not even us. It was a moment of spontaneous inspiration when we sent a company of green army men to attack the Christmas village. The next year, Barbie dolls joined the nativity set, with teacups. Three years in and we were running out of ideas so we stuffed a pair of my hubby's jeans and built the dummy. We put him on the living room couch and covered him with a blanket. All that night and all the next morning, people were tip-toeing around and wondering who could be sleeping in their house. It was brilliant. Best prank ever.

Year four and we had no ideas and did nothing. That was sort of a prank since they were expecting one. Year five, the Grinch came to pilfer, plunder and purloin, but got caught in a Grinch trap and had to hang out there until morning. We have bubble-wrapped their bathroom, hung bananas where the mistletoe should be and hidden a cardboard Jedi in the shower. (We wished we'd had a creepy mannequin.)

In order to continue this glorious tradition, we have to have some rules.

Rules for pranking.

   1. No damage.
   2. No injury.
   3. No feud.

The "no feud" part means we avoid causing anger and this ensures we get to come back next year and do it again. The point is just to make them laugh and we have a good time. We don't want to embarrass anyone break anything.

This year, we decided on a gag gift. My mother-in-law loves snowmen so we gave her Frosty in a box. Here are his affects. And arms.

Unfortunately, he didn't make it. We tried to "preserve" his memory but couldn't find the canning kit.

A reindeer ate part of his nose. :(  We wrote him an epitaph, explaining how he died saving Grandma from being run over by a reindeer. That must be why she loves snowmen so much.

It was a sad day for Frosty, but a happy one for us (he did promise to "come back again someday").

 Seven years married, six Christmas pranks so far. Let's hope there are many more to come. What are some pranks you have done? I need some good ideas.