perfectly imperfect

madelyn was a perfect baby.
after waiting three long long first time whale expectant mother days past my due date and starting to feel like maybe the extra 50 pounds i was carrying was perhaps not a baby after all, my labor started.  all the fear of childbirth and worry of my inexperience faded quickly.  i had a patient and peaceful and steady delivery, and my mady was born healthy and true.  she was beautiful, perfect and fat.  you could hardly see her nose for the size of her cheeks.  she was creamy and first gray then pink, glowing with vibrance and life.  she was an adorable bundle of all of our dreams come true, bathed and swaddled and capped.  though i didn't realize until i saw the pictures many weeks later, she also looked like she just got punched in the face.

seriously. 
she had red and swollen eyes, black circles, bruised cheeks, and a conehead.  i found out later that christian had consulted with the nurses behind my back about her severe conehead-  he was worried she was misshapen for life.  when i got her hospital pictures in the mail about two months later, i   g a s p e d   when i saw them.  my 'perfect idyllic newborn first professional picture dreams' were not the pictures i held in my hands.  i considered throwing the pictures away!   this wasn't the perfect glowing healthy newborn i remembered.  luckily my perfectionism was replaced by reason.  i kept the pictures.  i now understand how shallow, how ungrateful i was for my completely perfect and healthy (bruised) baby!

five and a half years later, the battered newborn madelyn pictures are amongst my prized posessions.  to me they are the sweetest and most beautiful pictures i have.  my heart swells with love and tenderness for my sweet baby girl that worked so hard to fight her way into this world.  we worked together to fight her into this world.  i love her bruises and swollen eyes.  i love her little conehead.  i love her in her imperfection, and i wouldn't change a thing about how she looked that day.

i think about the role that perfectionism plays in my life.  i think perfectionism is one of the "big ones" that satan uses to tear us down.  discouragement and dissapointment are sure when your standard is perfection.  perfectionism is a distraction from living in the now, from being happy with what you are and what you have in this moment.  i can see it in so many ways in my life, discouraging me and pulling me away from enjoying the unbelievably beautiful and perfect life i have.  in my eyes, Godly perfection is different from the kind of perfectionism sickness i am talking about here.  my search for spiritual perfection is patient and paced and balanced and kind.   as i seek for Godly perfection, i feel uplifted and encouraged.  on the other hand- my frustrating quest for well behaved children, a pristine home, the perfect pumps, the best meal, perfectly placed toyroom, the right drapes, no fewer than two dishes in the sink, perfectly organized cupboards and drawers, sticky hand print free walls- this is what makes me feel crazy and discouraged and overwhelmed and depressed.  it is too easy for me to simply focus on the getting to the destination and not enjoy the journey as i go.
three babies under 5 has made me face the fact that something has to give.  i gave the supermom thing a good run for a kid or two but i can no longer constantly worry about the crumbs on the rug next to my giggling babies.  being perfectly imperfect means having to choose between "good, better and best."  it means worrying more about the babies on the rug than the rug the babies are on or what the babies wear to play on it.

the beauty in imperfection, in gratitude, in patience, in joy, in everything wonderful about life is epitomized in the way i feel when i look at that perfectly imperfect picture of my madelyn.
she was never more beautiful, just as we all are, as we are, to our Father in Heaven.  as we work so hard to fight our way through this world.  as we work together with Him to fight our way through this world.
i want to see the beauty in myself and my life that He does.  in my imperfection.  in my discouragement.
conehead, crumbs, bumps, bruises and all.

an early thanksgiving.

it seems like most bad things happen so fast you can't see them coming or going.
i'm on the phone with my mom, loading logs in our wood burning stove and adding a little gas to the slow burning fire. a sharp flash of light and searing heat on my face and thirty seconds later, madelyn is crying "mommy i don't like you like this. i liked you before. i just liked you the way you were before. i don't like your hair like this i don't like you like this"
i am on my knees sopping up diesel spilled thick all over the tile, too overwhelmed with what has happened and too soon to feel any pain, wondering how bad it is and just thankful.
my babies were a room away.
it took me a few minutes to break down. after consoling madelyn that i will look normal again; after a quiet trip to the mirror; after reassuring my mother who waited agonizing minutes on the phone six thousand miles and oceans away after listening to her oldest daughter complain about the pina colada weight she'd gained, that she needs to get those miniboden skirts for mj, then throwing the phone, screaming, hurt.
burned.
i passed olivia to my sweet maid fabi who ran to me (and in her voice i could hear worry, i know i heard love.) i ran to my closet and locked the door and sobbed. i cried because i was scared. i cried because it hurt. i cried because i was thankful i wasn't holding a baby, my hair was pulled back and my glasses protected my eyes. i cried because christian was two hours away and i needed his arms, his priesthood, his eyes, his voice.
i couldn't speak at first, but i knew he would be scared by my crying on the phone, stronger now with fear and adrenaline. i quickly told him everything was okay and i was just upset, finally feeling all the stress and fear of the last few minutes. he listened quietly until i felt better and told me to shower and call him in a few minutes. he loves me.
the shower stream slowed to a trickle and i stood washing out chunks of singed hair and gently soaping soot off my burned hands and face. why today, when i need you. thinking of the water, meaning christian. thinking of all the people in my life who would love me no matter what. thinking of nie nie. thinking of fire. thankful. praying.
out of the shower i can see the kiss of red burn on my lips, my nose. my eyebrows now shorter and misbehaved, a crown of hair burned short and wild around my face. i think for once i have traded vanity for thankfulness.
i wrapped my clean wet hair in a tight bun at the nape of my neck. i carefully smoothed black speckled burn ointment all over the smooth skin of my face. i put on the softest clothes i could find. i pulled out christian's sweatshirt, the one he wore last night with a big smile gliding around on mady's new plasma car. last night, when we had so much fun and happiness and each other and didn't realize. like everyday. i wrapped his soft grey hoodie around me like a hug and missed him some more. kissed these girls that are our love. (but cuter.)
as much as these little burns hurt, it feels good to feel. i am happy in this early thanksgiving. i didn't realize it last night, but it's not just the bad times that come and go so fast. it's the good times too.
christian called to tell me he would love me even if i looked like chewbacca. i know i would love him too.
today i am thankful for love without vanity.

general conference fun books

download and print these fun free packets for general conference from deseret book here.
i'm printing them for my hub and i. anybody else excited to have a big yummy breakfast, break out the crayons and lounge around for conference?

enrichment aftermath.

please send the elders quorum ASAP.

(it was worth it. fun. it always feels so good to serve. and now 50-ish newborns at the integral will get to go home in comfy clothes with cozy blankets instead of wrapped in newspapers. yea sisters!)

i'm going to miss this.

overheard (a thank you.)

this afternoon:
"hey pops. did you know that when i look at my CTR ring i can hear the holy ghost whisper to me?"

aren't babies learning the gospel just so cute? it was so sweet to hear madelyn retell what she had been taught in primary today. (a big hug and thank you to shauna and sunbeam teachers everywhere. you make a difference. you build big testimonies in these cute little people.)

come on mady, i want to take your picture with your CTR ring in your poofy slip. now twirl baby twirl.

on talent

as children of Heavenly Father, we each have unlimited potential for developing talents. everything that you admire and love about others is in you; we are all created in the image of our Father in Heaven.
i wish i had realized this sooner in my life. i remember feeling untalented as a teenager. i felt "kinda good" at a lot of things, but not "really good" at anything. i admired my parents, who are both powerhouses of creativity and talent. i didn't realize that i had availiable to me any talent i wished for until years later, after i had actually spent years developing skills while simutaneously feeling 'untalented.' (even though all-the-while my mother was telling me 'you can do anything you put your mind to! you are amazing!') o how i wish i could have a conversation with a 12 year old me! i did not then realize my true worth as a daughter of our Heavenly Father and my potential for talent. i know one reason we are here is to develop our talents: to help each other see what wonderful things are hidden in the world around us, and in each other.

this is one of my favorite quotes, from "All God's Critters Got A Place in the Choir" by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich (pulitzer prize winner!) and Emma Lou Thayne. it was a life changing passage for me:

"A number of years ago, I told a friend of mine that I wished I could draw the way she did. 'You could do it if you were willing to take the time,' she answered. I thought she was being unreasonable. After all, she had a talent for drawing and I didn't. As I have thought about it more, I have come to believe that talent is an inner drive that propels a person to take time. People who are experts at something work harder at it than the rest of us because they see (and hear and taste and feel) possibilites the rest of us can't discern- the stairway in the side of a rock, the hat or vest in a yard of cloth, the unfulfilled potential of an organization. People with talent help us see
what is hidden."

to a twelve-year-old me, my sisters, my daughters, my future sons and daughters, my nieces and nephews and anyone who needs a reminder:

you are unimaginably talented. you only need to realize your potential by spending time doing what you love. you can't expect to begin playing the piano a concert pianist, preparing a seven course dinner like a renown chef, run for hours straight like an athlete, or whatever other talents you admire. recognize what you love and have an inner drive for, work on those things, and they will become your talents. the more focus you have on what you want to become, the more time you spend developing it, the quicker it will happen. before you know it you will be that pianist, that chef, that athlete. Heavenly Father created you with u-n-l-i-m-i-t-e-d potential for talent. He wants you to develop and share your gifts. He will help you perfect your talents. everything that you admire and love about others is in you; we are all created in the image of our Father in Heaven. you are wonderful and unique and talented and loved. uncover what it is within you that will help the world see what may be hidden to everyone else.

newborn.

tonight i refined my thoughts about something that happened a couple of weeks ago. i wrote this poem about my love for everyone in it coupled with that dark fear that every mother knows and the unparalleled love that redeems us from fear to comfort, from pain to peace.

newborn.

watching you sleep

is better than dreaming, of that i am sure,

and most days i choose both.

all of a sudden you are three you won't nap you are cranky you want popsicles for lunch you are whining you won't stop bothering your baby sister you're hanging on my leg you are having a major meltdown and just when i can't take one more minute

i imagine mothers missing babies babies lost babies wanted

and i a b s o l u t e l y melt, a puddle of love and patience.

i tremble, still imagining me without you

and hug you like a second chance

and i can almost breathe again.

i am sobbing now and you want to know why

what i can't tell you what i can't tell you will know

when you are a mother

you are in the pool and you see your best friend's heart her love her only child she is a daughter to you she is struggling she is fighting she is deep under the water and

you didn't know your arms could move so fast the world could stop like this

you pull her to air to life shaking crying hugging thanking Heavenly Father

passing her small sobbing scared body into her mothers arms whose dress is now wet

her heart warm holding her crying wet baby to her chest like a newborn.

please bless the longing hearts of mothers suffering

and thank you for this moment. this girl.

this tantrum.

my eden

happy mother's day.

i have felt a great responsiblity to write about motherhood.

before my girls were born, every year on mother's day, i would try to write something for my mother. my words felt so trite. i thought that when i became a mother words would come to me. for over three years now i have written ideas and lines, but a whole poem never came together.

i feel true happiness today, finally having found words to describe the song in my heart.

this poem is for mothers: especially for my unbelievably wonderful mother, and my precious daughters, who will one day truly understand the love, joy, and gift motherhood is. my eden

this life, moments

in each the love of my own mother

my newborn daughter wears the fiery crown of birth

and all my love to bear her into this harvest sun

and i, still burning, so weak,

turn to my mother

who with wet eyes helps me latch my sweet baby to nurse and

watches waves of pain shoot down to my toes, curling, exposing my suffering,

and she remembers hers.

the song of new life silent now at least one year

i ache for a babe wet with birth and fresh from heaven.

finding the footpath of my forever

baking bread, blowing bubbles, forgiveness, kissing owies,

my celestial preparation

and this man at my side, eternal sweethearts

the man my mother knelt and asked for since

the day she bore me into daylight with her love,

he is everything she pleaded.

this breath or maybe the one just before

changed last night into this morning

we lie in our bed too small for four

i hold my breath, holding time

thinking of our love

and these two precious girls, they tell all.

this garden of love

each moment a flower more beautiful

pushing through dirt and despair

we bloom tall together in the sparkling sunshine

every day growing closer to heaven

my daughters, my gift to you,

motherhood

inside you an eden of your own

tender mercies

i meant to bear my testimony today. i have felt so close to the spirit for the past couple of days. on friday my nephew jordan was in a fatal car accident. he survived, but one of the girls in the car passed away and two others were critically injured. i have been so affected. as a mother: that is somebody's mady. as an aunt: a renewed tenderness toward my sweet nephew. as a human being: a refreshed sense of the fleeting moment this earth life is. as a wife: an appreciation for my husband, his faith and power in the priesthood. i bear my testimony of Jesus Christ. i testify that He Lives. i think one of His great gifts to us is Peace. i bear my testimony of the power of the priesthood. i know jordan was protected. i bear my testimony of the power of faith. i know the Book of Mormon is the word of God, meant to help and guide us. i know Heavenly Father lives and is ever with us. i know He loves me and wants me to be happy in the wild journey of life. i am so grateful for the gift of the spirit in my life. how i love my family. i am so happy i am sealed to my family forever. i know that families are eternal. i love the plan of salvation. i love the temple and the power of the covenants of the temple. i am ever thankful for my parents who chose to raise me in righteousness. i am overwhelmed with the blessings in my life. i am so happy, so peaceful, and so thankful. i feel blessed by all the tender mercies Heavenly Father has shown me. "I will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance." 1 Nephi 1:20

a peach prayer

in a community full of orchards, spring arrives with hope. hope that this year will be a good year. hope that this year won't freeze out the crops. a fresh start. this spring has brought very warm days with very cold nights (again.) most of the men in our community spend every cold long night awake in their orchards, praying over their crops and doing all they can to keep the delicate pink blossoms from freezing. inspired by our friends and family, inspired by hope, and inspired by the beauty of springtime, i wrote this today:

spring is here and she is gorgeous.
she puts on her blossoms and her best green

fresh with pink and a promise of summer

awakening the world with her hope

my prayer is for peaches

for spring and all whom love her