GOOD Night

I tend to start the day feeling overwhelmed with what's on my plate. Its just an endless list of things needing to be done and I always feel 20 steps behind. And to top it off, I have an energetic and demanding 3 year old at my feet all the time. And to be clear, she doesn't give a darn about that stupid list.

The day ends in a similar fashion, I'm still overwhelmed and even more frustrated at what hasn't been done or did get done only for me to do it all over again.

But today was a little different.  As I lay my head down to go to sleep, I still have lots to do, the list is still endless,  but I'm going to bed satisfied with what I did with my day. I see the tan on my arms from getting a great run in when I thought for sure it wouldn't be happening. I see that each child did their chores with little fuss, piano got practiced after only having to ask twice, and we had a nice time as a family tonight. Lots of smiles, laughter and soul exploding love for these people I call "family".

As I relish in my day knowing that list is still hovering over me, all I can picture is me dancing away with my little girl in the middle of a shoe store to the beat of "Billy Jean" without a care in the world.

I will fall asleep with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.

Just another reminder that God is good and He is ever present with a loving hand in my life.

Empathy

I feel a lot.

Sometimes I wish I could just numb the 'feelings' part of my brain(and the "I really like food" part of my brain but that's a different post).

I'm like a sponge taking on the feelings or attributes of those around me. Even the characters in a book or movie. When I saw the movie "Return to Me" many years ago, I cried for three days. Pretty sure my husband was ready to call the Paddy Wagon. I read a book series about people living during the Ice Age and I suddenly wanted a lot of herbal tea and a hankering for mammoth meat. My mom has told me several times that I need to be careful with what I read because I take on any darkness, sadness or light I may read. Needless to say, I avoid Virginia Woolf after I made the mistake of reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. I've gotten better at compartmentalizing what I read or watch but I still can feel any darkness creeping in and I have to read something light, funny or spiritual for a while.

I can put myself in someone else's shoes with relative ease which tends to put me in uncomfortable situations. At girls camp one year, we were doing an over night back packing trip and I shared a tent with my best friend. That night it rained like there was an ark nearby and my friends sleeping bag got soaked. I hate being cold and wet so I told her she could share mine. She was very little. So we squeezed into my sleeping bag but guess what. I am ridiculously claustrophobic so it wasn't long before I freed myself from my own personal hell into another personal hell. I was wet, cold and wide awake all night. My friend slept great.

I cannot watch the news because I just can't handle all the ugliness. A friend posted a video that showed a woman beating her baby. I'm not kidding. she was beating. A baby. It was a "share this so we can find this woman and bring her to justice" kind of posts. I watched a little bit and cried. All day. Because there was nothing I could do for this baby and knowing she was not the only one living that life was more than I could bear.

If one of my kids gets their heartbroken, my heart is broken. I've been known to be upset and crying
long after they have gotten over it. My oldest has already been in some tough situations and every time she has had to deal with these things at such a young age, I break down. Even dealing with the recent issue, I couldn't talk to her without bawling about it.

I know, I'm a total blast.

It kinda makes me feel a little nuts sometimes. It's not a constant thing, I am usually pretty mellow. I contemplate taking antidepressants almost every month just to tone down the feelings so maybe I can handle these moments a little better. I wouldn't say I was depressed (and, trust me, I have been down that very dark and scary road before) but I can get so weighed down by it all that I just want to crawl into a dark hole and be left alone so I don't have to feel. It's times like this that I am very grateful I haven't taken up drinking. I honestly think I would be a drunk.

The awesome thing about feeling so much is the joy. When I have joy, it's a taste of pure heaven! When I can take a moment to stop worrying about EVERYTHING and feel nothing but that moment, it almost makes the heavier times worth it. Like the times I find myself in a place that is so beautiful it takes my breath away. Having a successful and fun outing with the family. A genuine spiritual experience shared with my family. Or an honest and open conversation with my husband over a quiet dinner together. Laughing at something funny a kid has done or said. Watching the pure joy on my baby's face as we play with bubbles or she sees an airplane in the sky, a horse, a flower.

As I laid in bed last night, feeling way more than I could handle, I thought of someone else Who felt way more than any of us could ever handle. I thought of My Savior Jesus Christ as He took on the pains, sins, sorrows and anguish of the world. And He did it all alone while his friends slept. He plead with The Father that this burden may be removed from Him, knowing full well He was the only one that could do it. An angel was sent to hold Him and strengthen Him, but He had to go it alone. The pain was so much, He bled from every pore. After this very long night, He was betrayed by a friend, taken, tried, whipped and hung on a cross by those who didn't understand.(Luke 22:41-23:46)

He did all this for me. And for you. Because of that, He knows my pains, my struggles and He can be my Angel holding me, strengthening me. He didn't pick and choose what He'd take on, He didn't say, "that person does not deserve this", He didn't shut it down when it became too much. He did it all. For each and every one of us.

He knows my name and I all I have to do is ask. He doesn't care about what I did or didn't do, about what I wear or the stupid things I say. He loves me no matter what. And He will take it on with me. He has taken it on for me.

And for that I am eternally grateful.

And then there was...so many!!

I love my kids.

I mean, just look at 'em!

Yup, I made those! Well, ElRey helped, too.

I was blessed with awesome kids.

I know many people that have five, six, even eight kids and I admire them and think they are amazing because they can take that on, but, I tell you what: four girls is A LOT! My friend, who also has four kids, and I have a running joke that four feels like too many because it IS too many! Each child demands special attention and when you're the only parent around to give that, most of the time, it can become very overwhelming. It's overwhelming when both parents are tag teaming the attention, too. Mostly parenting is overwhelming. Period.

Case in point: The other morning I was working on getting everyone ready for school, which is always super fun. This particular morning I had one kid that needed to shower and I happened to be using the bathroom. In the one and only working bathroom in our house. There was another daughter who also needs to use the bathroom IMMEDIATELY. So, I finish my 'bidnes', one daughter is getting in the shower and the other is hoping around in the hallway. I say, "I'm done, I'm just washing my hands. You can go now."
       "But I want everyone out of the bathroom," she says.
       "Sorry but your sister needs to shower. You're just going to have to go while she's in here," I say.
She continues to hop around but now adds whimpering and a whiny moan to her routine.
      "Babe," I say with as much early morning patience I can muster, "If you gotta go, go! There's no such thing as privacy in our home so just go!"

That's when I leave her to move on to other attempts at getting them all ready for school and get myself ready for my run immediately after they go. So I'm trying to make my shake and my two year old is 'helping' me. As she goes to shake up the blender to get things moving, she kind of knocks it off the spinner (I'm getting technical now!)a little so it makes this really loud sound and as I'm running back in to fix it and console the now crying baby, my other daughter starts bawling because she's pretty sure she deleted "Flappy Bird" and can't get it back now. So, I'm holding my baby, trying talk my one daughter 'off the ledge', hollering to the others to hurry and get dressed with one asking where her leggings are in a panic because she simply cannot wear anything but leggings, while the showered one stands there in the middle of the living room, in her towel 'air drying' (because why would we use a towel to dry off? While still in the bathroom? That's weird.) We're down to about 20 minutes before we have to leave and we're searching for shoes and amputating limbs brushing hair, suddenly the two year old has to go potty and she couldn't possibly go on her own, she needs her mother there to watch and then cheer her on only to have the child say, "hmphf" at my praise and I'm trying to guzzle my shake wishing it was a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit.

When I finally get the older ones to school and successfully stayed out of McDonald's drive thru, it takes everything in me to not crawl back into bed. I don't always win that battle.

We won't even talk about about that fun thing called 'homework'.

Now, I wouldn't trade places with anyone. Except maybe that beach bum I saw in Laguna Beach. I bet his life is awesome but I couldn't imagine my life any other way.

I am pretty sure that when my kids found out they were coming to me, they were hoping for a mom that didn't wake up like a bear being disturbed way before her hibernation is over only to discover someone ate the last salmon. Or a mom that didn't forget what they just told her 20 minutes ago. And maybe a mom that didn't eat all the goodies while they were at school. I'm pretty sure they thought they would get a mom that would never ever dance like a dork at red lights while Katy Perry sings about a lion or something.

But I was planning on kids that brought me breakfast in bed at noon that did all my chores, did drink runs for me and braided my hair while the other one rubbed my feet and another gave me a manicure.

So, yeah, a lot of dreams have died.

But even though there is just waaaaay too many of us in our small house and there's a lot of screaming and crying (mostly ElRey ;) ), we're doing our best to make a happy home.

One scream/tantrum/bawl fest at a time.

Why is there a wet towel on the living room floor??

Thank you very much!

Gratitude is a funny thing. I've noticed that if you have a feeling of gratitude about you, life is awesome even when it's not. But if you are lacking in that department, life is just a flaming poo bag on your porch. You can't even see the glorious sunset or hear your children giggling in the house as they play, all you see is a flaming bag of poo.

I've always considered myself a positive and mostly grateful person. I see the glass half full, I *usually* see the good in others, or at least try really really hard. I even hate giving a bad review on a book, movie, event or whatever because there is always something good I can squeeze out of it. I can't even think of a person I hate or wish harm towards. I have people that annoy the living daylights out of me but I still try to see the good in them.

I hate to admit it but something has changed over my adult and less carefree life that has left me a little darker, a little bitter and, way more often than I want, a lot more grumpy. Sure, crap has happened. You can't have 4 kids, a house and a life without having to go through hard times. I think the biggest culprit in my life has been realizing I'm just not as amazing as I just knew I would be taking on the adventures of adulthood and family life. You know how when you were single/before kids/at the beginning of your career you just knew you were going to be the best darn spouse/parent/professor this world has ever seen and then you find yourself in the middle of it thinking,  "I really don't know what the hell I am doing!" We've all done that.. I hope.. Or I really am a big lonely idiot! Life isn't one big Full House episode where you fix the problem within 30 minutes while cheesy music swells in the background and Jesse's standing there flexing and making that mullet look so very right.

Accepting this reality and adjusting my perspective and expectations has been tough for me. I most often feel like I'm failing at something, most things, everything. Somewhere along the way I have allowed this negativity to take over. Sure, I've always been good at whining, but I could  always come out of it and it was rainbows and butterflies all over again. But lately it sticks around longer. It has festered. It has changed me. And I hate it. You know what I hate about it the most? My life is pretty awesome! I have everything I have ever wanted and more(except for the unicorn I'm still holding out for)! I see manifestations of God's never ending love for me daily, even though I don't always deserve it. But here I often sit, mumbling "humbug"  and ignoring the good life around me and focusing on the mess, the screaming baby, the smaller house or the lack of a unicorn in my life.

It's easy to see the beauty around and be grateful for what I have when I'm out goofing off with my friends, on a date with my husband or out on a fabulous run, enjoying the scenery. It's when I'm in the thick of it that I lose the ability to see the good. When I'm playing referee, cleaning up another mess or someone else is crying about some 'injustice', I want to crawl into a hole and count the ways I'm doing everything wrong. Thew sane part of my brain tells me that's just life with kids and we'll get through it but the batpoopcrazy part of my brain tells me I have somehow ruined everything and everybody and I fester. So I've been working on it. Trying to bring Grateful Mindi back. I fall back into bad habits. A lot.

For example, I have been seriously concerned with how my kids have been acting lately. They are mean to each other and often treat ElRey and me like crap. We take stuff away, we lecture, we yell but it just doesn't seem to get better. And I was telling them that. I was trying to figure out ways to have a more positive approach to it by pointing out when they do something kind or follow instructions the first time but I still felt so grumpy about my 'broken' kids. We went to a leadership night program at their school the other night and as I was waiting my turn at the cookie table, one of our favorite teachers approached me and said, "I couldn't let you leave tonight without telling you how amazing your kids are! They are so respectful and kind and smart. I love each of them! Your oldest comes to my kindergarten class as a "buddy" and she is so good with her little buddy. Most of the six grade buddies come in a just goof off. She is kind to her buddy and helps her stay on task. I love when she comes to my class! I just wanted you to know how proud you should be of your kids. You guys have done such a great job!" I about collapsed in her arms crying! I knew in that moment my Heavenly Father was reminding me how awesome my kids are and that I'm doing okay. Sure, we can all work on how we treat one another at home but when they are out in the world they are all the things I want them to be! From that moment on I promised myself I would do all I can to see the good in my kids no matter how frustrated I may get in a situation.

There is progress. I know I am getting better at it. Slowly.

 This was a bad day.My heart was hurting for my daughter who was experiencing some tough changes in her world. Usually, I would wallow in my sadness seeing only this tiny moment in our lives, making it big and dark and ugly. Instead I gathered everyone up, packed a bag and threw on swimsuits and went searching for this 'beach' I had heard about in the next town over and we had one of the best days ever. Just me and my girls. My daughter survived the changes, she's thriving and all has turned out well. Plus, she totally cracks me up!

 Mornings can be really rough around here. By the time I get them to school, I'm ready for a nap or a donut. Or both. I'm still trying to figure out how to make it better but it tends to be one long fight and me saying, "Have a good day. I love you." through gritted teeth. One morning as baby and I got out of the car, it had started snowing lightly. To watch her catch snowflakes was like watching pure joy in action. It almost made me cry. That moment took away all the frustrations of the morning.

I am a living, breathing jungle gym for my kids. I really really really love my personal space and, apparently, so do they. It often irritates me to be touched and climbed on so very much. I know that the day is not far away when I won't have this happening any longer so I try to suck it all up and enjoy it. One day I was busy being this child's 'footstool' and instead of getting incredibly annoyed, I grabbed my phone to document it. It was so cute how she was perched on my shoulders like that. The back pain wasn't so cute but, whatever.

My two oldest take piano from my awesome friend. Getting them to practice each day is a battle. Heck, to just get them to practice 2 or 3 times a week is a freaking miracle that took some serious war tactics just to make it happen. I want to pull them out constantly because it's just one more fight in my life. But then recital time comes. It takes place at a music store where they play on this beautiful Steinway grand piano. When my kids get up there and play the song they've worked so hard on, all the fights and contention disappear. All of it becomes worth it. Until the next practice day..;)

I am a work in progress. 

Furry Pain in the Neck

After filling our postage-stamp-sized house with 4 little girls, we thought it would be brilliant to get a dog.

Yeah, brilliant.

For some reason my will to keep us dog free was waning. I had never had a dog growing up and secretly always wanted one. So I started looking around online for free dogs. I did this for weeks before I even told my husband. The moment I told him, he was on board and looking, too. I got on the site one day and there she was. Begging me with her big chocolate brown eyes to come save her.

"Help me, Mindi Jeppson, you're my only hope!"

I knew she was mine. She was my kind of dog. Apparently "my kind of dog" is one with ADHD that sheds so much fur, I could make a blanket. For a giant who isn't worried about allergies. If we could read her mind, all we'd hear is, "Play?! PLAY?! HEY!! I'M GONNA SNIFF THAT DOG'S BUTT AND THEN TRY TO LICK YOUR FACE! PLAY?!"

I have discovered that she loves to run. She gets going so fast that she can't stop herself and knocks you over. I've been knocked on my butt and my 6 year old caught some serious air when she plowed into her.

That mutt be crazy!

In an attempt to burn off some of that crazy energy, I started to be dragged down the street by her taking her running with me. It takes about 15-20 minutes before she calms down enough for me to put my shoulder back into socket, catch a breath and stop yelling, "WHOA!WHOA!!WHOA!!!NO!NO!NOOO!!" That's usually when I stop seeing spots and can actually focus on not tripping.

It's good times.

For a little while I was going early in the morning. I swear she could here my alarm better than I could. I'd try to sneak into the bathroom to get ready and she'd immediately start whining and jumping in her kennel! If she sees me in anything that looks remotely like workout clothes, she immediately starts jumping all over me and running up and down the stairs, knocking small people over. She sees the leash? Watch. Out.

"Where we go?! Go fast?! CATS!!"

 My friends and I were headed out for a run the other day and there she was in her spazzy glory while we just all laughed at her "hopped up on tasty cats full of catnip" craziness. I started doing my best impression of her (It's epic, I tell you) when I felt a sudden pain in my neck. I figured it would let up as I went but it just got worse. By the time I got home, I could barely move my head and I could feel my shoulders tensing up. I was down for a freaking week with a pinched nerve in my neck.

Because I mocked my spaz of a dog.

I finally got relief a week later when I dragged myself to the Dr where he gave me a couple shots in my neck. Shots in my freaking neck.

Because of my freaking spaz of a dog.

Okay, because of a spazzy old lady mocking her freaking spaz dog.

My 2 two-year-olds. One of them is house trained and it ain't the one in undies.

So, if you see us running down the street, one of us with our tongue flapping in the wind and the other screaming with arms flailing, just know that I may be running to my death.

That just happened

You know when you were young and had no children and you knew everything about parenting and knew you'd rock it as a parent?

Fast forward 13 years and 4 kids later and you find yourself in the corner of a dark closet with unwashed hair and still in jammies just hoping the little angels won't find you and ask you a question you know you don't have an answer to.

Or so I've heard.

I totally rock the heck out of parenting. I'm sure they are planning the monument dedicated to me as we speak. I'm sure it'll be a disheveled woman with glassy, unfocused eyes, a shirt with stains on it, slippers that I like to call 'shoes' and a Diet Coke in hand. Probably a Super Big Gulp.

Anyhoodle, I digress.

We've all had those times when we think we are doing the perfect thing in the moment for our kid(s). Like the time you were swinging a little one around making him giggle only to slam his head into a wall/door/tree or playing catch in the backyard and you clock her in the eye with the ball. Or how about the time you let your toddler snuggle a baby cougar.

It happens to the best of us. And the okayest of us.

Yesterday I had one of these moments. I have a child that I tend to butt heads with, to put it mildly. It seems as though anytime we are interacting one or both of us is yelling and/or crying or I am nagging her about something she needs to do. So any chance we actually have a quiet moment together, I try to remember to say loving things or hug her or laugh with her. So here she is standing in front of me telling me about something that happened at school and I am admiring her beautiful eyes, her cute and squishable cheeks, her sweet voice(since it wasn't in scream mode) and I was, once again, surprised how much she has grown. When she was done with her story I started telling her how cute she is as I grabbed her and threw her on my lap. As I was hugging and tickling her I said, "When did you get too big to sit on my lap?! Where did my baby go?! You'll always be my baby!" All while I was imagining her big smile on her cute face.

But there was no smile.

She started bawling!

"I don't like it *sob* when you say that because it *sniff* reminds me that one day *sob* I'll die and I don't want to think about that *sob*!!"

Apparently, instead of showing her my love for her I merely reminded her of her mortality!

Bravo, mom. Bravo.

So back into the dark corner of the closet I go...Where's my Super Big Gulp?