Dear Little Rock,

Dear Little Rock,

Some hard things have been happening in my life and it has come out in my driving and in my shopping and in my dining and so I am writing you this letter to thank you. You see last year my perfectly healthy happy three year old did not want to go trick or treating. Yeah. We took him to the doctor. He was diagnosed with leukemia. He had never been to the hospital before. We were admitted and spent our first month there. Unfortunately, he needed a bone marrow transplant and he didn’t make it to receiving one. He died at age four this summer. For the last 10 months I have cut you off in traffic and glanced over after realizing only to see you smile and wave me in.  I have gone 50 on the freeway and you have quietly gone around me without honking or flipping me off. I have sat through green lights without a single person in a long line of cars honking at me. My 1 year old has lain on the floor at a popular restaurant and cried. You have asked if you could give him a sucker. After my son came home on hospice he wanted to go out to eat at IHOP. You over heard me explaining to the manager why we needed to sit in the closed section of the restaurant (immune- suppression from chemotherapy) and you paid for my family’s meal. You have told me you would pray for me. From social security case workers to car insurance agents to the lady whose car I hit in Hot Springs you have prayed for me and I wanted you to know that what you have done for us is irreplaceable. You see sometimes someone’s world is crumbling and they are searching for a break. Somewhere something in life has to ease up or they might not make it. So thanks for not being too hard on me during a time when the last thing I was thinking about was driving. Your kindness has propped up my broken world. And I thank you.

Sincerely,

A mom from Arkansas Children’s Hospital

Wearing my mother's wisdom

Let me begin by saying that my mother is an original in every sense of the word. I have lived in Connecticut, New York, Arkansas, and Utah. I have been to 24 of the 50 states and I have never, ever met anyone like my mother. That said, I am learning as I grow older how much I would like to be like her in many important ways. Many times we are frustrated with our parents for dressing us in hand-me-down wisdom and old fashioned insight when we want to go out in what's new and hip. Time's have changed! Here's the thing-- you can't change the way you were raised. It covers you like a cloak til one day, when you're all grown up with kids of your own (who argue with you nonstop) you look down and discover you've been wearing pearls all along.
One of the things I learned from my mother is that you don't have to be the perfect parent, you just have to try really hard. And keep trying. One day your children will understand (and appreciate) your sincere effort not your perfection. Everyone has to at least respect a person of principle, someone who lives what they believe. My mother never told me this. I learned it from my own attitude towards her. One day at around twenty one years of age I turned around and said, "What would make someone live that hard?" "What could make someone give and go and do and be from sun up to sundown (and her candle goeth not out by night Proverbs 31:18) everyday of her life?" She understood something my heart did not. But her example spoke to my soul and that is why I am where I am today. I went through the storm, not quite prodigal but not the easiest kid, either. Now I try to wear her wisdom proudly. Its what she deserves.


Quotes that inspire my parenting and remind me of my Mama:
"Parents who love their children cannot afford to be intimidated by them."  --Elder Larry R. Lawrence
“Parenting is not a popularity contest.”  --Elder Joe J. Christensen
“Sometimes we are afraid of our children—afraid to counsel with them for fear of offending them.'    --Elder Robert D. Hales
Courageous Parenting Article--  http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-1298-30,00.html

Eat your leftovers!

I don't like leftovers!

No, I'm not talking about men, I'm talking about food. It does not matter what kind they are or how good the food was originally.

I don't want it after day one.

Why is this blog worthy, you ask. Because I'm pretty sure the eating of leftovers (or not) is a small symbol of a much bigger issue. I'm almost positive that people who willingly, wait let me change that to happily/joyfully eat leftovers get to go through the pearly gates express lane. You know the line where they don't ask you any questions, they just open the door and let you in. I think liking leftovers has some kind of large but inscrutable connection to being a humble person. My husband likes leftovers. I know people who absolutely love leftovers. I bet Mother Theresa ate leftovers all the time. So did Martin Luther King Jr., Ghandi, Moses, President Hinckley, and a host of other saintly people! Here's my problem: On the nights when I don't feel like cooking I doubly don't feel like something icky out of the fridge, I feel like P.F. Chang. See pride issue. Also the only reason I can see that I should start trying to like leftovers is because we definitely can not have Braden getting into heaven that much easier than me...see another pride issue. After reading President Monson's talk on gratitude  http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-1298-27,00.html I decided it is time for a change of attitude. President Monson is the president and prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He knows how to be happy and he knows what we need to do to be happy. And he probably enjoys leftovers...