Stay Focused

           I have been spending the week thinking about the questions Marissa posed to us this last week. The other night I sat down to write down my answers.  The more I wrote, the more I started seeing things a little more clearly.  The more I tried to really be honest with myself the more I started to realize where I was getting stuck. I ended up with pages of thoughts.  Now I realize that not all of you reading this blog care to hear this creative stuff, so I’ll try to keep it short. :)
           There is something about creating.  To me it’s the process, the getting messy, or the experimenting with different ideas and mediums.  There’s something incredible about the way that everything starts falling together. Colors start working, elements start playing with each other, and finally you have a finished product that works, is beautiful and was created by you.  Starting from nothing but ideas in your head, and then seeing the finished product is so rewarding.  “It finally clicked” is a phrase that my husband told me the other day he loves to hear me say. Why? Because after days or weeks of struggling to get creative ideas to work out and becoming frustrated, and not feeling like I’m getting anywhere… there’s nothing like that mental click where it suddenly works and you know from here on out it’s pure creating.  He knows when that moment hits, that I’ll come in with a smile on my face, a sense of satisfaction, excitement about what’s happening and losing all sense of time while working.
           It’s the creating part that I love…. the gathering of ideas, the experimenting and the playing. But I’ve realized too through answering her questions that I have no focus. I like so many things, so many mediums, get so much inspiration all over that I have lost my focus. I’m not sure of what to do to really get sense of all fulfillment.
           I’ve always had a desire inside to be using my talent for those things that God blessed me with this talent for. I don’t want to end up making my accounting for my talents and admit that I used it all for me and my gain. I want to say I used it for His glory, to testify of Him and used it how he needed me and wanted me to use it.  But to me that’s scary, because I have been wondering what that is, and am not sure I know.  I have had this idea in my head of what it entailed, but last night I started having my thoughts go in different directions and I was wondering if I was already accomplishing it in more ways than I thought…. that I wasn’t going to need a drastic shift or turn in my creating. I’m not sure yet… thoughts that I really need to work through and think about, but that gave me hope.
           But in the process I realized I am REALLY stuck on the idea that if you don’t paint and draw with your hands, and do everything in the more traditional method that I can’t really say I’m an artist. If I use a computer, or use different techniques to speed up my methods, that it’s not “true” art.  I think I’m stuck on this really. That it is a massive huge block to my art.  That others won’t think of me as an artist, and that others will think I’m cheating, or that it doesn’t count.  Does it really matter?  Why am I trying to do things in ways that isn’t me or doesn’t make me happy.  I want to do things one way, but I don’t.  Instead I feel like I have to do it by hand, with real paint, and real pen and then what happens…. nothing happens because I feel completely inferior in my abilities to create with those to the degree that I want to.
           One big realization when I saw this huge block is that I am more concerned about “telling the story” or “teaching” when it comes to things I want to paint or create. I don’t care whether it’s all painted by hand. In fact I’d rather use tools that are fast and easy for me that let me get the subject out so I don’t have to worry about the technical aspect. I’d rather spend all my time and focus on the “story” part of it. Yet I haven’t been doing this… time for a change. Time to start getting focused.
           And success? That will be when I feel like I am being true to myself, doing what I actually like to do, in the way I actually like to do it without a care in the world about what others think about my techniques.  I’ll be successful when I can feel that I’m using this talent in the way God wants me to use it, and when I can use it to bless the lives of those around me.  To me that’s success.
           I’ve been reading a book that goes so well with Marissa’s class. It’s called The Creative Entrepreneur.  It’s a great book. It has me asking questions similar to Marissa’s and a bit more in depth, it feels as if it goes right along with this class so far.  I love it when that happens.

Latest Fun as well as Work

Being a Kid

           Yesterday I realized we needed to get out. It’s been getting cooler, school is going on and so we’ve made our way inside a little too much.  Before we know it there will be snow on the ground and we will really be stuck inside so we need to take advantage of the chance to be outside while we can. I’ve also been feeling a need to get in some nature and out of the city.
           So we drove up the canyon to see the falls, and let the kids be kids and let mom breathe in some fresh air and enjoy the beauty that I don’t take advantage of enough. I love this time of year with all the changing colors.
           The kids ran, played, got dirty, climbed and enjoyed just being kids.  There’s nothing like sheer enjoyment on their faces, hearing lots of laughter, and seeing them run all over the place.
           There was this little ravine they would climb up and then slide down on, over and over again. They thought it was so funny that their bottoms were getting dirtier and dirtier.
           Caitlyn ate it up too.  Throwing rocks in the water, climbing on things, running, and just having the time of her life.  What a great way to spend the afternoon.  Tomorrow – a  picnic up the canyon again.
           Isaac must have worn himself out too much, because later that night he caught the stomach flu from his two sisters who had it yesterday.  There’s nothing like making you a real mom until you’ve been thrown up on a time or too. You never turn into a real dad either until your kid throws up 2 or 3 times in public at the Chiropractor clinic and in the car on the ride home.
           So today?  Relaxing and getting a few kids better so we can enjoy some fall colors tomorrow.

Taking Care of Myself

           Yesterday was the start of my online class that I mentioned in a previous post. I am excited.  I’ve enjoyed getting to know some of the other classmates and have enjoyed seeing the broad range of talent and creativity out there.
           In the process of going through the class I’m going to be having a variety of thoughts (I already have after the first day) and am needing a place to collect some of them and share with the rest of the class members.  What better place than this blog, right? It’s the place to record my thoughts on being an artist, and this class is hopefully going to get me going in a direction on my personal art.
           I have had quite a few thoughts and still need time to sit down and really think about the answers to some of the questions she asked, but one thing really hit hard yesterday after listening to her podcast.  At the very beginning she just made the quick comment to make sure that we are taking care of ourselves.  Making sure we are getting enough water, sleep, time to ourselves, etc.  I agreed with her and didn’t think much about it until later after the podcast when I was trying to think about some of my answers to her questions.
           At that moment, I realized I couldn’t concentrate and I was tired. (We got to bed late and then a 1 yr old decided after an entire year of being an incredible sleeper that she wasn’t going to do it that night.) After thinking how tired I was, how bad my back killed, and my lack of desire to do anything I started getting pounded in the head again with the thoughts of how important it is to take care of this physical body. I really think we don’t put the importance on it like we should. I know that it’s important and I try a little, but really I just sometimes stay up way too late, I don’t eat the greatest foods, I have too much sugar, I don’t always get exercise in, I don’t drink enough water, I don’t get outside in the sun enough etc.I really think our bodies get quite beat up and abused being mothers, especially mothers of little children.  I’ve been going through this lesson over and over again this last year it seems. I don’t know why it hasn’t sunk in yet.
           But after the miscarriage a little while ago I have realized that I have about 4 months or so to really concentrate on me. Really concentrating on taking care of this physical body.  At the time I was thinking I really need to start eating better and healthier. My body felt so much better when I got out of the hospital and was drinking lots of water, and eating only good healthy food. Then I start getting better and you start eating a bit more junk and start drinking less water and before you know it… you don’t feel that great anymore.
           But after yesterday I started realizing that this taking care of myself extends far beyond just eating good and exercising to lose weight.  It means going to bed early. It means actually getting enough sleep, it means not taking on more than I need to, creating stress I don’t need.  I know there is a huge connection between how well I am taking care of my body and how well I am doing spiritually.  A HUGE connection.  And yesterday I realized even more so how much of a connection there is between how I am feeling physically and spiritually to how well my creative side is doing. It affects whether or not I have creative ideas, if I’m able to execute them, if I feel inspired, if I’m able to concentrate, etc.  It’s no wonder that lately I’m lacking that…. my body is lacking… which means I’m falling asleep during prayer and scripture study which means my spirit is lacking… which means my creativity is lacking…
           This has got to change.  It really does. It is probably one of the hardest things for me to change right now, but it has got to. I can’t expect to be where I want spiritually or creatively if I’m not first making sure this body is being well taken care of.  So the goal… start changing how I’m abusing this body…. and expect to see great things happen.
           I have additional thoughts on this class as well, and you’ll see them here sometime soon. Until then I need some water…. a lot of it.

Fenced In

           About 4 months ago Caitlyn learned to walk. She was doing great and I wasn’t too worried about her until she found the road. (This road is insanely busy.)  Then anytime the door was left open, out she went.  You try to keep them shut and safe, but 2 year olds just don’t remember that they need to shut the door after them for the safety of their younger sibling.  I couldn’t let her out of my sight, which made the days long because this girl belongs outside.  She wants to be out there.  It was time to finally build the fence, NOW.  Something we’ve been talking about wanting to do but kept pushing it off because other projects needed to get done first.  Now it actually happened.  I kept asking Caitlyn if she felt special that dad was building this fence and going to all this hard work (and burning up his saw) just for her.So we decided wood was the most practical, cheap way to do it. Build it ourselves. This is where I get to brag up my husband and his ability to build anything.  Fences being one of them. It’s been a three week project since he can’t work on it all the time, but with his skills and the help from a young man in our stake, they got it completed.
           The whole time building it though Caitlyn thought it was the greatest thing to climb up the fence, stand on it and holler.  Just too funny.
           So today my kids are going around sporting this look.  Today was my day for service group, and so we had moms lining the fence and eight kids three and under sitting on the grass painting the fence.     We didn’t even get half-way, but we got a good portion done. More than I would have been able to do on my own. It’s looking good though, and as everyone asked – yes Beau did cut and shape everyone of those pickets himself. What a good man!

Truth

           Yesterday morning as I was walking on the treadmill I looked up on my board and saw this little card that I had found on the floor one day at a church we were visiting.
           “At sometime or other, we have to make a choice whether to deny, modify or defend the truth--- What choice will you make?”
           It hit me at the time I read it and it still hits me every time I pick it up and read it again. It was on my mind all day and even more so when a friend of mine was expressing a dilemma of someone getting mad at her for expressing her view point.
           We make this choice every day whether we realize it or not. When it comes down to making a decision or acting on something we know to be true, we subconsciously choose one of those three things. We either completely reject it, choosing to not having anything to do with it, or we start to make excuses of why we are the exception to the rule and why it doesn’t apply to us. We then start bending or twisting things to make it fit into our personal standard of what is acceptable. Finally we can accept the truth whole heartedly, act on it, believe it and defend it at all costs.
           The interesting fact is that it’s truth.  It never changes. Yet we try to change it.  We try to reject it saying it’s not what it is. Sometimes we try and change it to fit our standards. But in reality we can not change it. Ever. It is truth.
           The last few weeks I’ve had a few opportunities that have made me think really hard about those truths that I feel really strongly about. In one instance I got to express my feelings about a truth I felt strongly about.  I was given the chance to just brush over it and say well it’s probably ok in this circumstance, or just because it’s my opinion doesn’t mean it’s everyones. But the more I thought on it, the more I realized that no, there is an eternal truth here and I need to say something. Now did it change the circumstance at all. No. But it changed me.  It made it that much easier down the road when another circumstance comes up to be able to stand up and say hey….. this is not right.  And hopefully after a few more of these experiences it gets easier and easier.
           It has also made me think about my own personal life, wondering what truths out there am I trying to personally modify or trying to fit into “what I want".  When do I have the attitude of ‘it’s not really hurting anything’ or ‘it’s not that bad there is so much worse out there'? It’s also made me wonder what truths am I completely ignoring because I either don’t want to hear it or because it’s too scary to act on it.
           What about you? Which choices are you making?

20 Years From Now

           I want to remember moments like this.  When all is said and gone, the kids, the years, and the time I had being home with them. This is what I want to remember.  Little faces like this.  Dressed up as unicorns, eating cereal for lunch and messy with paint.
           We decided on cereal for lunch since I wasn’t up for battles of what people did and did not like while I was already fighting horrible allergies and a migraine.  We actually had cereal in the house, and so cereal it was!  We were eating and Mirian asked me to tell them a story of when I was little.  They ask me to do this often, and so I proceeded to tell my story. I looked over at her as I was explaining what my sisters and I were doing and she just had her eyes riveted on me, with her spoon in hand and with her little unicorn costume, that I just stopped and chuckled. She looked so cute, so innocent, and so intent on me.  I had to take a picture. I had to remember that little moment that will be the moments I will miss when they are all gone.
           Of course once the camera was out Isaac insisted on getting his picture taken too while he ate his Cheerios. So we snapped away. I loved this. His mouth is full of cheerios and he was making some exclamation at my story as well.  These are the reasons I’m a mother.

A Loss but Great Gains

           A little over a week ago I read a heart tugging blog post.  Little did I know that two days later I would be hearing similar news.  “The baby stopped growing about 3 weeks ago.”  I was in for my 14 week checkup. We were expecting our 5th baby.
           I had come to the doctor for my 10 week checkup 4 weeks earlier, at that time they couldn’t hear a heartbeat.  They knew it was a little early but decided it was best to check things out on the ultrasound.  I had been feeling all kinds of different emotions and feelings with this pregnancy, so when I first went in I probably wouldn’t have been surprised if there was no heartbeat.  But there was. The baby was moving, everything looked great, and I saw it’s little heart beating strong.
           That is probably why for this visit I came by myself expecting the normal routine visit.  Once again the doctor couldn’t find the heartbeat.  He checked for quite a while and then decided to do another ultrasound just to be safe.  That’s when I saw for myself that the little heart was no longer  beating.
           I did pretty good until the technician asked how I was doing. The tears started coming, I felt emotions I’ve never felt, and more than anything I wanted to get out of there, have a good cry and talk to my husband.  The doctor gave me his condolences as well as options of where to go from there. I wanted to try and pass it naturally, and hoped that I would be able to since It had been so long.
           I left not wanting to return to pick up my kids from the babysitter yet, so with tears and all kinds of emotions I started driving, ending up in the parking lot of the temple, where I called my husband up and broke the sad news.
           I don’t know that I had ever really planned on this or expected it.  We had 4 previous pregnancies that had gone wonderful.  I have had friends go through miscarriages before, and despite how much I tried to understand, and give condolences you never understand until you hear the news for yourself.
           About 11 years ago while I was in college I attended a Women’s Conference in which one of the speakers talked about her experience of having 7 miscarriages and the lessons she learned through them. Her first one she went through the miscarriage alone, she didn’t tell anyone and she described how hard it was. She decided after that if she ever got pregnant she would immediately tell people, and then she would let people know if she miscarried. She wanted the support and love that she needed so badly and should get. She knew she shouldn’t and it wasn’t God’s way for her to go through it alone.
           For some reason that has stuck with me for years, and as I was hearing for myself the news that I had miscarried, I knew in my heart I wanted people to know. I wanted the support.  That first day I couldn’t share it though. I was still dealing with the news myself.  I still needed to really talk with my husband and I just wasn’t emotionally stable enough too.  Finally that night I emailed my family asking them for their prayers that I could do this naturally and to let them know the news.  I also posted to my dear friends and co-workers at ScrapGirls who are so full of faith and love, asking for their prayers as well.
           I then went to bed with hope and faith that we’d be able to pass it naturally and that I would be able to get through this personal loss.
           The next morning I started bleeding. I wasn’t experiencing any pain, and I was glad that it looked like we’d do this naturally.  Things were looking good.  That is until right after Beau took some of the kids and left for a little bit.  It was then that I started having hot and cold flashes, getting week and feeling light headed. I came to a minute later long enough to realize I was kneeling on the floor and holding on for dear life to some furniture next to me.  I laid down on the floor and passed out.
           I came to a little bit later, and heard Isaac waking up in the next room.  Calling him I told him that mom was really sick and I needed him to go push a chair over to the phone and bring it too me. He didn’t say anything, walked over and brought me back the phone. I called Beau and told him something was wrong I needed him home now.
           He got home, talked to me, called our friends asking them if they could take our kids, and tried to make me as comfortable as possible.  I was feeling slightly better but could not move. I was completely exhausted, weak and all I could do was lay on the floor hoping to not have any more hot flashes, and to overcome the nausea.
           Our friend came and picked up the kids, and unexpectedly my sister knocked on the door letting me know that she had left her kids with a babysitter, had brought 3 freezer meals, hot rolls and asked if could she help out with something.  I was so grateful for her just dropping everything and coming over after she got my email the night before.  She helped do the dishes, clean up the house and helped Beau out while he took care of me.
           I would have moments of doing good, and even made it to a sitting position, eating a little bit of food and feeling like my strength was returning…. it wasn’t before long though that the hot and cold flashes hit again and I hollered out to Beau that it was happening again.
           I don’t remember anything after that except Beau patting me on the cheeks asking me if I was with him or not.  I don’t know how long I was out, I had barely come to  long enough to make a sound letting him know I heard him.  He told me we needed to get to the emergency room.  All I could do was listen, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything except lay there and throw up occasionally.  I knew though that there was no way I could get myself into a car, even with his help to get to an emergency room. He finally realized it was not possible either and called 911 for an ambulance.
           I have to say that I have never been so grateful to hear him make that call, and so grateful to hear them come in and talk to me, getting me loaded and feeling myself move towards the hospital. I knew something was wrong, but I could not do anything myself to get me there. I was so glad to just relax and know that they would take care of me.
           The rest of the morning was spent in the ER trying to get an IV in me. I was dehydrated, and my blood pressure was really low.  15 attempts later with absolutely no luck except a bunch of holes, bruises and pain they ended up putting one in my neck.  Once I started getting some fluids in I started feeling better.  After discussions with my doctor it was decided that I was bleeding too much and the best thing would be an emergency D&C.  I was wheeled into the operating room with the plan that I should be good after the procedure and be able to return home that night.  That was not possible. I was still so weak and unable to stand let a lone walk that I ended up spending the night in the hospital.  The nurses kept pushing me to try standing and walking to the bathroom, but I physically knew that it was not possible. I was so exhausted and weak that every time I attempted I could not even stand.  I felt like my blood level was still low and that my blood pressure kept varying. I was so glad to hear them say I could stay the night.  The next morning I awoke feeling tons better after getting some crackers, water and sleep.  I could finally walk and ended up coming home that afternoon.
           The next 6 days were slow. My mom had been planning on being here to help out until Saturday thinking I should be feeling better by then.  She didn’t leave until Monday.  I kept getting weak, not being able to think clearly. I was completely exhausted and would sleep for 3 solid hours shifts during the day. I was not able to really feel good enough to have her leave until Monday. I’m feeling better now, and know we’re on the upswing. I finally feel like my blood level is getting close to normal, although I am completely exhausted by the end of the day and emotionally unstable. It’s been a week of tears.  As long as I don’t think I can keep the tears under control. If I think too much then they come….
           One thing I have been so grateful for during this is that advice 11 years ago from that woman about her experience with the miscarriages.  Her advice to let people know and so you could have support. Even though I feel the loss of the baby, I have gained so much in the last week.
           I have gained a huge love for my dear friends who without knowing what was going on, and without question dropped everything, took my children in, watched them overnight until we could get out of the hospital. They made sure Savannah got to school, did her homework and took care of them when I couldn’t.  They will never know how much I appreciated that unconditional love and support even though they didn’t know at the time what was going on.
           I have gained a huge love and appreciation for my extended family, my sister who just showed up that morning to help knowing that she could help.  My mother in law who just happened to be in town and showed up as I was being carted away in an ambulance.  She gave up the rest of her day and stayed at the house taking care of laundry, cleaning, and taking care of things there.  For my mom who dropped everything and came down and helped take care of things around the house and especially the kids while I tried to recuperate.  I am so grateful for the family members that had me in their prayers and called with love and concern.
           I gained a great appreciation for the love and support out there from everyone that I either told or found out. Who have given hugs, who have told us they are sorry for our loss.  For Beau’s employers who understood, told him to take care of me and let him go for the week.  I’m grateful for all the women out there who have said "I’ve been there, I’ve lost one or more of my own, I understand" and they do.
           I’ve gained an even greater love for my husband who dropped everything since my first call to him, and has been an incredible help and support. Being there the whole time when I needed him more than anything.  I’m grateful for the priesthood, and the power it has in my life, and how grateful I was to get a priesthood blessing from him the night before the whole ordeal, a blessing of comfort, council and strength. To have him here when emotionally all I needed was him, someone to talk to, someone to cry to, someone to curl up next to.
           I’ve gained a greater understanding of what this kind of loss is like.  I hope that I can be of better comfort to other women out there that experience the same thing, since I too have now experienced something similar.
           Most of all I have a great knowledge that God is aware of me.  Shalae. He knows exactly what I am going through, he knew what I would be going through and sent people at the right times to help and be a support. He knows what is best for me and my family. He has a plan for me individually but also an individual, personalized plan for each of my children.  He knows exactly when they need to be here in our family and who needs to experience this earth life.  For some reason this was not the time, nor the hour for another baby to join our earthly family.  It will be a part of our eternal and heavenly family, but this whole experience was the Lord’s will and was at his timing. I’m so grateful I know that, believe it with all my heart and can gain great comfort from that knowledge during  this time.
           I have also realized I do not have it that bad. I have been keeping tabs on a close friend of Beau and I. His family and our family always hung out together when I was little. We'd spend hours together. Right now he is fighting a battle of cancer.  He has two little kids and an amazing wife. I read their blog, I see what he goes through daily and am amazed at his wife as she watches him go through this.  I read his story and realize how little my problems are. How there are those out there with so much greater.
           It has been a couple weeks of learning, emotions, tears and immense gratitude.
           Thank you to all of you who have called, expressed love and concern.  That you to all of you that have just jumped in and helped. I am doing so much better and only because of all of you. Thank you!  I love you more than you know.

Life This Week

           Wow what a week!  Last weekend we made another trip home to spend time with Beau's family. Beau’s youngest brother is getting ready to go on a mission this next week, and so we had a chance to spend time together which will be the last time we’ll all be together for 2 years.
           While were there I got sick… strep throat or something very similar, so the first part of the week was survival mode.  Try and keep the house cleaned, but not much more than that.
           The end of the week has been the start of canning season.  We’ve been working on getting peaches, peach pie filling, pizza sauce, spaghetti sauce and other canning projects finished up before they all go bad.
           My beans are finishing up in the garden so we canned up a few of them, and hope to get some peas in the ground here quickly.  I’m hoping to possibly get lucky enough to something before the snow.
           With a bunch of various fruits laying around, we decided to make good use of them.
           Blend them up good, adding your freezer pectin and sugar. Dispense into freezer jars.  This was a great way for the kids to help make them without a huge mess.  They could fill the blender, turn it on and fill the jars for me.  I love doing the freezer jam too because they are small batches which means I can be more creative in the jam making.  Nothing quite so good as strawberry, blueberry/plum, peach/strawberry, and blackberry/blueberry'/plum jams on some hot homemade bread.
           There really is something satisfying about canning. Knowing your preserving things, being frugal and making things that taste so much better than the store bought versions. There is only one store bought version of peaches that we can stomach, and we are lucky to get it on sale for .79 when the timing is just right.  It made me happy though canning these up and then figuring out that I just saved myself .72  for every quart of peaches. I’ll have saved $3.83 per quart when I finish up the pie filling instead of buying it from the store. (Dutch oven season goes through peach pie filling like crazy when we’re making cobbler.) Roughly $61.00 saved. (Plus they taste so much better!)  I’d have saved even more if I had my own peach tree, which is now a must. When we graduate we can only go to places where I can have my own fruit trees.  That’s not too much to ask for right?