Sometimes Mothering Hurts

I sometimes wonder if I have something wrong with me because I love my children so much and I want to do all I can to help them, but sometimes when they share their pains and frustrations I physically hurt as if it is all happening to me multiple times of intensity than they must be feeling. I wonder if it is just pain of not knowing how to help them, or transference of their pain, but I really don't like it, but I guess I like it better than not being there for them.

Mothering by the Spirit

I think that I often feel guilty for shortcomings, for failures and don't look at what I do that is right in terms of mothering. This week my kids needed me to help with their education plans. One of them dropped two classes to add a practicum. The practicum ended up having requirements that weren't there when her sister took it two years ago. This meant she needed to drop it. She had already given up her spot in the classes. She was able to add one class, but not the other. We looked through available class possibilities and came up with a couple options. These options would make her credit load acceptable for her financial aid, but wouldn't help her progress towards her degree. I prayed. As I prayed, a very clear thought came to me that she should email the teacher and see if he could make an exception to add her to an already full class. She wrote him, explained the circumstances, and he gave her approval to add the class!

Another child will need two classes to fulfill his associate's degree. He is taking the math prerequisite currently, but he got an incomplete in another class last year. He had not been able to make contact with the teacher and thought this grade would turn to an F and he would have to retake the class. As I prayed about it, I had the clear impression that he should email the department and explain to them. I helped him do this and he immediately got a response telling him she is teaching a class this semester and gave him instructions on where she was teaching so he could connect with her. It happens that it was one floor down from a class he has. He went down to meet her, talked with her and she said she will email him the rubric for the only assignment he is missing. Once he completes the paper, she will change his I to a grade!

Sometimes I feel like I am too involved in the education and lives of my children, but these two sweet inspirational experiences have brought me peace in two ways. One, it's ok that I am concerned and involved. Two, I need not feel guilt that may hinder such inspiration.

Defensive Mothering

Pretty much from the time I can remember I wanted to be a Mom. Later in life the thought of marriage became more desirable, but even as a child I wanted to be a mom. I would like to think that I am a great mom, but I think that I am somewhat immature. For some reason I tend to be stuck at age 18 emotionally and sometimes I act that way.

The main thought of my behavior that is bothering me today is that I take anything facing my children so personally and my immediate thought reaction, and sadly, yes, sometimes my behavioral reaction, is that of an 18 year old.

When someone says or does something that offends one of my own, I get defensive. If someone brags about their child or shares some truly great noteworthy accomplishment, I tend to be more jealous than happy for their child. I will think things like, "My kid could do that." "Well, if given the same opportunity, my kid would whoop your kid." Sheez! What an immature approach to sharing parental joys.

It's been one year almost since Richie left for his mission, and this experience has been so helpful for me. I share Richie's letters with family and friends and the parents of Richie's high school friends who are also serving. Likewise they share their letters with me. For the first time in my parenting career, I am feeling great joy in the successes of other people's children and not having the immature, jealous feelings I usually have. When one of his friends has a baptism I rejoice! When they share an experience that shows the strength of their testimony or the fruits of their labors, I am as happy as if it had been one of my own children sharing that experience.


Some of Richie's High School friends who are now out serving missions

I would like to say that I have adapted this same mature attitude with all of my parenting opportunities, but alas, last night one of my sweet daughter's was hurt by her friends and instead of taking a mature attitude about it I seriously wanted to call them or show up on their doorstep and yell and scream and rant and rave and possibly trip and accidentally punch them in the face on my way down!

Oh well, one step at a time!

Missing my Mom

Well, it's almost three years now that my mom passed away. When times have been tough in my life I would call my mom. I can't do that anymore and sometimes I feel so helpless and wish I could just call my mom or go see her and have her hold me. I was feeling that way today. For some reason I looked at one of my extended family websites and saw this picture of my mom holding me when I was two months old and for some reason it brought me comfort knowing my mom would always hold me when I needed it and for a few short moments I felt Mom holding me again.


Picture from May of 1957 of my sister Fredi, brother Rick, Mom and baby me!

Message from Heaven

Yesterday we went to SLC to help Grandpa Turley. When we got to his old condo which he is trying to move out of, there was an envelope that had my name on it. I was alone in the condo, so I opened it and read it. I cried. Of course this is a message written by my mom in Spring of 1963, but to me it was a message from heaven.

I love it!



Side note: I was called Stevie or Steve until I was about 18 and insisted on being called Stephanie. Also, I went to Kindergarten in Draper, UT at Draper Elementary. In 1963 Kindergarten was a summer program, thus the mention of kids being out of school and me about to start school. My mom was in Missouri with my Nickle grandparents. Now, she is with them in heaven, and I am grateful that I was helping my Daddy when I read the heavenly prose!

I am a Daffodil

Friday I was feeling very burdened by troubles and fears. It's been a rough year financially, and I allowed it to all come down on me. I kept crying, and feeling hopeless. It was a snowy, cold day.

When I came home from work, my head down, my heart aching, I looked over to our little flower garden. The tulips have yet to bloom, but all the way to the left were the daffodils which had already bloomed. They looked like how I felt, downtroden, affected by the elements, and ready to give it up.

Sunday, when I came home from church, there had been a little bit of sunshine, some light in the dark and dreariness. As I walked up the steps to enter our home, my eyes once again looked to the left to the daffodils. They had responded to the little bit of light and their heads were upward and they looked like they might just make it!

I thought about how I went to church amidst my sadness and fear and felt the light of the gospel shared through others testimonies, my wonderful youth Sunday School class, and the Relief Society lesson. I, like the daffodils, had responded to light, my head held higher, feeling hope that I too will make it!

Fun Time with Mom

On Sunday I wanted to cook some kale that I received from Bountiful Baskets, a local produce co-op, so I got my Martha Stewart recipe book as I was sure Martha had a good recipe for kale. Once I picked up the book, I noticed little pieces of paper marking certain pages of recipes. I smiled as I remembered my mother borrowing the book (she loved to read recipe books) and marking recipes that she thought she would like to try.

Now, this was probably about two years ago she borrowed the book. She was already unable to stand and cook at that point, so it's almost funny that she marked these recipes. But, maybe she knew something I did not when she marked them.

As I looked through each marked page I had a very enjoyable time trying to choose which recipe on the page she was interested in. I spent a good 15 minutes or so smiling, even laughing, as I reviewed the recipes on the pages and knew EXACTLY which one she would have wanted to make or eat.

Later in the day Rochelle came in my room and I showed her the book. She and I smiled as she went through the pages and chose the exact recipe I believed Mom wanted!

Then that evening we showed Blair the book and he too knew the recipe that Mom would have wanted to eat.

I want to leave these little papers in the book forever. When I need to be close to my mom I will open the book and smile believing she left these little pieces of her in my book for me!