What is in a Name?

The other day I was at an outlet mall near my home and noticed that it was uncharacteristically busy.  In fact, as I was shopping in one of the children's clothing stores that so often gets too much of my money, I noticed a very long line outside.  When I asked the cashier what is was for, she told me that it was for the grand opening of the new COACH store.  She said that people started lining up at 4:30 that morning to get the 30% off discount, and that the line had not let up since.  As I finished getting my little guy some clothes and headed outside to hit a couple more stores before lunch, I began to notice COACH purses everywhere.  At least half of the women that I saw shopping that day were dawning their newly acquired bags.  I kept seeing the same bags over and over again on a variety of different women off all ages.  I must admit that I was a little perplexed.  What is the motivation behind such a rush to claim a COACH bag?  Is it the quality of such a bag?  The style?  The name, or the status that name carries?  What is so great about having the same purse as so many other people who waited in line for hours to claim one as well?  These bags are not cheap, even on sale.  But, does it make one feel more sophisticated, more stylish, more able to keep up with their neighbors - knowing that they have a brand name purse?  I guess that begs the question - what is in a name?  I guess I am still trying to figure that one out. 

Kids These Days

It has been my observation and experience that kids these days are so far ahead of previous generations in matters of spirituality.  My nine year old daughter came to me yesterday and said that she didn't really think that the church was true.  She told me that she had stopped saying her prayers and that she just didn't know what to believe anymore.  We had a long talk about faith, prayer, and obedience.  We talked about how you gain a testimony and how you don't need to know everything all at once.  I don't know if she really understood what I was saying.  But, I do know that she sets her alarm for 5:45 every morning to get up and read scriptures with Dad.  She loves that time with him and is an active participant in those discussions.  I guess I am surprised by how deep she is thinking about this at such a young age.  I didn't really even think about it until I was much older.  She is barely nine years old.  I'm not really worried about her finding a testimony.  I think that will come with time.  I think this may even end up being a good thing in the end for her to be searching for a testimony at such a young age. 

My 11 year old some is going through the same thing.  He used to get up in Sacrament Meeting nearly every month and bear his testimony.  It has been quite awhile since he has done that because he says that he really isn't sure if the church is true and doesn't feel like he can get up and testify.  Once again, that goes to show me the spiritual maturity in these young kids.  He understands that a testimony is a witness of God, and realizes that he shouldn't get up and give a testimony if he is unsure.  But, the fact that he is seeking after a "REAL" testimony at 11 years old shows me how far he is ahead of me when I was the same age.  I believed that the church was true at that age, but I didn't have the burning to find out for myself like he does, and like my daughter does.  Kids these days have to be so strong.  They need that testimony in order to safely navigate the halls of their schools and the influences of the world that are all around them.  I believe they are so much more sensitive to the spirit than the children of other generations.  You can feel the strength of their spirits in their sincere desire to learn about spiritual things and then live them with conviction amidst opposition from the world.  I am grateful for the example of my children.  I try to teach them, but sometimes I feel like they teach me so much more.

There is Beauty all Around

Growing up in the desert, I never really learned to appreciate it's beauty. I always longed for snow, flowers, trees with REAL leaves and no thorns, and grass that didn't hurt my feet when I walked in it barefoot. I didn't really miss it much when I went away to college in Utah. I couldn't get enough of sitting in the grass and enjoying all the flowers and greenery. Then, after a few years there, I moved to the Midwest and spent six years there. It was then that I came to learn that even Utah was a desert. The beauty of Ohio and Indiana were unparalleled in comparison to what I had previously known. We had to cut the lawn twice a week to even keep up with it, and the flowers and vegetables grew without ever having to be watered by anyone other than Mother Nature. The trees were beautiful, especially in the Spring and Fall. The beauty did come at a price, however. It RAINED and RAINED for weeks on end. There were days when I wondered when I would ever see the sun again. It was then that I realized that I was solar powered and gained more from the sun than I had previously thought. It just made me happy.

I didn't think that I would ever end up in the heart of the desert again, after having been away for so long. But, here we are. It did seem pretty drab, and let's face it - UGLY at first. I missed the trees, the grass, and the flowers more than I thought I would. I missed the changing of the seasons with the fall leaves and spring blossoms. (I did NOT, however, miss the snow.) But, one thing that I noticed right away was how beautiful the sky was here. It seemed to stretch on FOREVER, and it was always BLUE. And, the sunsets - AMAZING!! I still can't get enough of them.

We just moved into a new home, and this is the view from my back porch:




As much as I may prefer the look of trees, grass, and flowers, I can't get enough of the view from my windows. It really is BEAUTIFUL with the saguaros and desert foliage on the mountain. Even the coyotes howling outside my bedroom window add to the beauty of the whole picture. (The scorpions, not so much. . . ) I guess I am just realizing that there really IS beauty all around. It may be in the eye of the beholder, but it is there. The desert has its own kind of beauty that I am coming to appreciate more and more as time goes by. I still do miss the fall leaves, especially right now when the mercury is still over 90 degrees on most days. But, I guess it is a trade-off. In a couple of months I will be so happy that I am on my back porch enjoying the view in the sunshine instead of shoveling snow in sub-zero temperatures. Oh, I love the desert!

Can Kids Still be Kids?

My two oldest boys, who are in 6th and 7th grade, started at a new school this year.  This school, although new, has other sister schools who have been ranked among the top 10 high schools in the country (it is a 5-12 grade program) for several years in a row.  As a result, it is academically intense.  My 7th grader is doing very well and loving the faster pace and challenging curriculum.  A school like this is just what he needs.  My 6th grader, on the other hand, is struggling to keep up with the demands placed upon him.  Granted, this is his first year of middle school, which has an adjustment period of its own, no matter where you attend.  He has been used to one or two teachers, not eight or nine.  He has a difficult time keeping his binders straight and making sure that the right homework gets back in the right binder.  Granted, organization is not his strong point.  Not only that, but he comes home with at least three hours of homework every night.  After spending all day at school, he has a hard time sitting down and doing another three hours of homework.  What 11 year old wouldn't?  He wants to spend all of his time reading for fun, which I love, but he isn't getting homework or chores done as a result.  Three hours turns into all night because he doesn't make the best use of his time.  He is overwhelmed.  I get frustrated when he doesn't get things turned in on time, rushes through assignments or tests while making lots of mistakes so he can get back to his book, leaves things at home (or car, or locker, etc) when he needs them at school. . . etc. . . But, at the same time, I feel sorry for the kid.  We are asking a lot of him at this stage in the game.  Education is important, and he will get a great one at this school if he can stick it out, but there are other things that are important as well.  He has no time for anything else.  He does attend scouts once/week and piano lessons, but doesn't have much time to practice.  He used to be outside playing after school instead of cooped up in his room with homework.  Granted, he does find time to do lots of reading, at the expense of other things.  But, where is the balance?  Childhood only comes around once and I feel like we are robbing him of the opportunity to be a kid.  He will have his whole life to study and learn - and only a few more years to play and enjoy the relatively carefree days of childhood.  I don't mean to say that I don't want him to learn or be successful in school.  I absolutely want those things for him.  I want him to work hard and to not take the path of least resistance.  But, I don't want him to be stressed out by school so early in his educational career.  I don't want him to feel like he is drowning in school work.  I don't want him to lose his love of learning as a result of too many demands.  But, nor do I want to let him quit this early in the game.  He has the potential to prove to himself that he can do this.  He just needs to learn the skills to make that happen.  What I don't know is how hard to push him.  He definitely needs to be pushed.  But, when is enough enough?  And, what will the consequences be either way?  I just want him to be happy, try his best, and not be afraid of letting anyone down if he feels like his best isn't good enough.  The trick is figuring out which path will lead to that end. 

Growing up

For the past couple of days my eight year old daughter has been asking me questions about whether the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny are real or not. When it first came up, I was in the middle of something and told her that it would have to be a conversation for another day. I was hoping that would hold her off for awhile, but she came right back today with more questions. I didn't know how to evade her questions, so I had to tell her the truth. It broke my heart to see the huge crocodile tears that ran down her face as the childhood excitement surrounding those exciting events melted into oblivion. In the midst of the tears she sadly proclaimed "Mom, I didn't really want to know! I don't think Christmas will be very much fun anymore."

I must admit that I wanted to cry, too. As much as I tried to ease her pain, I felt like I could see her childhood slipping away in one painful instant. I wished I could have taken it back and let the magic live a little longer, but I knew that she had already figured it out before she asked me. She wanted me to disprove her theory and tell her what she wanted to hear. Maybe I should have done it - prolonging the excitement a little bit longer. But, how could I evade her direct questions? I tried to tell her that it was all about what she believed, but that didn't cut it for her. She wanted a real answer, and now she is broken hearted.

As I was thinking about the damage that had been done, it hit me like a ton of bricks - my little girl is growing up a little too fast. Not only will this Christmas be vastly different in her eyes, but it will never be the same for her again. I know it was bound to happen eventually, but I was hoping it would last a little bit longer. This is not just about Christmas, though. It's about being a kid - about the carefree innocence of childhood that is starting to disappear. I just want to wrap her up in my arms and hold on tight, convincing myself (and her) that she will be young and innocent forever - that she doesn't need to grow up quite so fast. What used to be about baby dolls and stuffed animals is now about earrings, clothes, and boys. I know that she is only eight, but sometimes she seems like a teenager trapped in that little body. But, then there are times, like today, when I realize that she is still little - that she still needs me to be there to wipe away those tears when things don't turn out the way that she hopes - that I still have some time to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. For that I am grateful.

The Good 'ol Days

Today I spent some time doing dishes with my kids. I'm not talking about dishes with a dishwasher. No, I mean the real deal - with soap, water, and a sponge. Granted, this isn't rocket science, but it isn't something that I do often. That is partially do to the fact that my kids do the dishes most every night. Every once in awhile, when I am feeling particularly charitable or when I want it done quickly and well, I will jump in and help. But, for the most part, the kids take the reigns with the nightly dishes. My husband particularly appreciates this because that was his job for the first 13 years of our marriage. He would do the dishes every night that he was home because I always did the cooking. No, I didn't ask him to do it. Yes, I know I married a gem!

As I was standing there with a sink full of soapy water, washing dishes while the kids rinsed, dried, and put them away - I was transported back in time. When I was a kid, my family was not blessed with the luxury of a dishwasher. I remember a brief stint of having one that worked, but it was just that - brief. By and large, we washed and dried dishes the old fashioned way every night. Although at the time I hated it and wished that we could afford to purchase a working dishwasher, I look back with fond memories. My dad would often be the one doing the washing. The rest of us drew straws for our jobs. While we worked together, Dad would quiz us on our math facts and create long math problems for us to do in our heads. He would also spell words with us or ask us about other things that we had done that day. That was Dad's way of passing the time while we worked, and I remember the dishes often being more of a time of family bonding than the actual meals. Granted, it wasn't like this every night, and I surely didn't appreciate it at the time. But, I realize now how much of a benefit that was for me. I learned to work, and I learned that work didn't always have to be drudgery - that it could be a means to bring about a certain togetherness.

Along with the lack of a dishwasher, there was a period of time that we did not have a clothes dryer. We would take the baskets of freshly washed clothes out to the backyard and hang them on the clothesline to dry. Oh, how I hated that job! It was certainly no fun in the Arizona heat to hang a batch of clothes out to dry. Not only that, but I was humiliated. I didn't want anybody to know that my family couldn't afford to buy a dryer. On one particular occasion when I was in junior high, I had one of my friends over for an afternoon and my mom handed me a basket of wet clothes and asked me to go and hang them on the line. I was mortified! This friend belonged to a family who was very well off and she certainly never had to hang clothes to dry. But, as I apologized profusely for having to do this chore, she said something that has stuck with me to this day. She simply said "Don't apologize. This is fun." At the time I thought she was crazy. How could this be fun? But, once again, I was reminded that work didn't have to be awful. She may or may not have known that I had to do this because my family couldn't afford a dryer. But, it didn't matter. Somehow, these opportunities for work would be a blessing, whether or not I realized it at the time. I used my vast knowledge again when, as newlyweds, my husband and I had a washer but no dryer. We strung a clothesline in our spare bedroom, and it worked like a charm.

This is just a taste of my life as a child. There was no question that we were usually strapped for money. As I grew up and became more aware of that, I must shamefully admit that I wanted to keep it a secret from the world. I hated that I couldn't afford all of the right things that seemed necessary in order to fit in with my peers. But, honestly, looking back, I wouldn't change it even if I could. I feel like those experiences molded me in a way that could not have happened otherwise. Although my husband has a successful dental practice and we will likely not have to struggle financially (though we did for ten years of school), I sometimes wish that my kids could experience just a little of what that was like. I do believe it was character building. And, I am grateful now for every dish that I washed by hand while my dad quizzed me on math facts, every piece of clothing that I hung to dry in the hot sun, every time that I had to buy school clothes at a thrift store instead of at the mall, and the way in which it taught me about work, togetherness, and what is truly important in life.

Unforseen Paths

For the past few months, I feel like I have been taken for a wild ride - never knowing what might be behind the next twist or bend in the road. Every time I think I have it all figured out, I come across another unexpected surprise that leaves me wondering what I was thinking in the first place. This pattern is not new to me. I have experienced it on several occassions throughout my life - usually in the wake of big decisions. It is usually accompanied by an internal stuggle between what I want to do, and what I feel like the Lord wants me to do, which are not always in agreement. As we have already established, I tend to over-think things and usually end up analyzing life through the lense of logic. If I had to use one word to describe myself, it may very well be PRACTICAL. However, what I have learned through the experiences described above is that the Lord's plan for my life is not always practical, and it often defies logic. I was reading in President Monson's biography a few weeks ago, and came across a quote that spoke to me:

"The wisdom of God oft times appears as foolishness to men. But, the greatest single lesson we can learn in mortality is that when God speaks and a man obeys, that man will always be right."

How true that is! The trick is figuring out when God is speaking. I am grateful for the experiences in my life that have taught me how to recongnize the voice of the Spirit, but sometimes it is still tricky, especially when the instructions don't make logical sense. I want it all spelled out for me, but sometimes the Lord requires that we act in faith, not knowing exactly how things will turn out in the end, or why it is that we are being asked to do a particular thing. We are facing decisions now that I would not have even considered feasible a few months ago. But, I am absolutely convinced that the hand of the Lord has been guiding us all along. I'm still not sure how things will end up, or what exactly is in store for our family. All I know is that we are being led down an unforseen path - one that requires faith and willingness to follow Him into the darkness, trusting that the path will be illuminated one step at a time. It requires me accepting that I don't need to know everything all at once - that things will fall into place one piece at a time - as they have done in the past and continue to do now. Another one of my favorite quotes gives me peace:

"When you come to the end of everything you know, and the next step is into the darkness of the great unknown, you must believe one of two things: either you will step onto firm ground, or you will be taught to fly." Author Unknown