a lesson learned (I hope)

Lately, I've been thinking about when I was a little girl. I hated being rushed. I felt like my mom was always saying, "Hurry! Hurry!"

I've hated it ever since. I don't like being in a hurry.

It turns out, Eva doesn't like it, either.

And now I know how my mom felt, why she was always needing to hurry me along.

No matter what time I get Eva up in the morning (and, oh, the irony of having to wake her now when she was such an early riser for such a long time!), I always end up hurrying her along to get ready for school. She is a dawdler par excellence. And I can actually remember being the same way—getting dressed at a snail's pace while watching cartoons.

I don't like being frustrated with her. I don't like starting off my day feeling irritable, and I certainly don't like sending her off to school in tears. So I'm trying to find ways to make our mornings smoother, a little better for both of us.

I've also realized lately that I have overscheduled my life.

This first year of having all of my children in school for a full day left me feeling like I could do anything. Not only that, but that I should do a lot of things—you know, because I finally have the time.

So, when I saw a need in Eva's classroom, I volunteered. I can do that now! When I was asked to be the accompanist for the school's jr. choir, I readily accepted. When they needed someone to be the art coordinator, I said I could do it. I finally have time to attend the stake Institute class! And attend the temple more often! And of course, I still have piano lessons, visiting teaching, my calling in Young Women's, etc. (And no, my cabinets aren't finished yet. Let's not talk about that.)

And now I see that, although technically I can do all of those things, I just don't want to. When I am constantly running from one thing to the next, my quality of life suffers. I'm sure some people love being super-productive every day and have their schedules constantly humming along, but I'm not one of those people. I do not function well if I don't have some time to de-compress, to read, to think, to plan menus and clean out my fridge and exercise and bake cookies.

Before school started this year, I had dreams of daily exercise, cleaning out my studio, sewing, and finally having a clean house. I've done fairly well on the exercise, but the rest has all gone out the window. I haven't sewn one thing or even spent one day in my studio! What the?!

I've been snippy and exhausted—not a very nice mom and not very fun to be around. Well, no more. I'm cutting back where I can and I am determined to take on fewer obligations for the next school year! I'm evaluating more carefully which things are most important to me, and which help bring happiness and balance to my life.

I hope I've learned this lesson. Please remind me not to volunteer for too many things if I forget!

a few major things

Eva lost her first tooth!

She was annoyed by the fact that it hadn't fallen out yet. It was causing her grief when she ate or brushed her teeth. So one night, I just took a tissue like my grandma used to, put it over the tooth, and yanked. It was very loose, and it came right out. She was thrilled.

I got out of bed at midnight when I realized that I had forgotten to perform my tooth fairy duties. She was happy about the money, but disappointed that the tooth fairy took her tooth away. At school the next day, the class dentist (they all have different rotating jobs in their "town") asked if anyone had lost a tooth and she was so happy to report her big event.

Lucas got a haircut!

Not his usual trim where he negotiates about how little he can get cut off, but an actual haircut. Miss Kate, the school drama director, told him he was going to have to have a new 'do for Grease. I was shocked that he opted to comply 6 weeks in advance. Thank you, Miss Kate, thank you!

Now I am trying to give him positive feedback without making a big deal out of it (so that he will want to grow it out long again just to rebel against me). I think he looks so much like my brother when he was about the same age.

Max got his driver's license!

It was shockingly easy. We went in with a pile of documentation and they never even looked at it! He didn't have to get his picture taken because he is using the one from his permit. He didn't have to take a written or a driving test because he has a certificate that he passed them in Driver's Ed. (which they didn't even look at). They just checked his vision, I paid the fee, he received a brief lecture on being responsible and staying in good with his mother (since I paid for it, I own it until he is 18) and that was it! No waiting, even. It was certainly a different experience from when I got my license—I had to take the written and the driving test and failed the driving test the first time because when I parallel parked, I wasn't close enough to the curb. Huh.

Also, he went on his first date about a week ago! He is so shy, I wondered if it might take him years to embark on this particular milestone. He planned the whole thing, arranged a group date, and had a great time. I could not be more shocked (and happy for him).

We went to our elementary school's Fall Festival on Friday. I didn't take my camera because it was stormy. Eva was disappointed that, due to inclement weather, the ponies weren't there. She was determined to ride one this year. They did, however, have a petting zoo that she thoroughly enjoyed: a 500-lb. pig, a pot-bellied pig, a llama, a cow, a baby goat, a chicken, and a rabbit on a leash. She also went on a golf cart ride, did the duck pond and fish pond games, took a couple of turns in the bounce house (a huge hit), played bean bag toss and ring toss, tried the cake walk and the soda pop walk, and ate cotton candy. It's an enormously anticipated event.

She won this in the soda pop walk.

Marc started repainting our main living area!

He spent all weekend prepping and painting one wall, and putting everything back into place. Now I'm not sure I love the color we selected. It doesn't look like the sample to me. It's cooler and just not what I pictured. Marc is so frustrated he can barely talk about it. I can't blame him a bit. And I'm pretty sure we will never paint again without getting a test quart.

I'm living with it for a couple of days before we decide how to proceed...

this old house

So. One day as I was backing out of my driveway to pick up the kids at school, I heard a terrible crunching noise. I got out to investigate and found a bag containing a gift I had purchased for a friend. I still have no idea how it made its way from my trunk to the driveway without my knowledge.

I saved the pieces, wondering if it could somehow be put back together. Eva was determined to try.

We set aside some time and hot glue, and started our assembly project.

Eva was delighted with the results, and we put it on display in her bedroom.

It's a little worse for wear, has some chipped paint, and doesn't sit quite flat anymore, but somehow I have an affinity for this old house. We have a lot in common.

Creative Friday

Last Friday, I had plans to paint one of my white pumpkins (I had seen this on a blog and knew I had to do it), and Eva was dying to help. I was reluctant at first, but then I figured, what could it hurt?

I traced the design and outlined it with paint, and she filled it in. She was giddy with excitement, and said, "We hardly ever do the same projects together!" How could I have turned her down?

We were both delighted with the finished product.

A quote from Jill's blog: Another funny Eva moment came as she listened to me go on about how amazing I think our ability (as women) to multi-task is. I was recounting the craziness of my Thursday afternoon and the brilliant efficiency with which I handled things (if I do say so myself) and ended by saying, "We are just amazing." Then Eva said in a pouty, put-out way, "I'm not amazing." Then she thought about it for a second and said questioningly, "Am I amazing?" To which Michelle and I both replied, "Yes, you are, you're a girl!" It felt like Eva was being trained in more than just creativity this week.

I just love that.

I love the way Jill took a self-portrait in my Halloween kugels. Also the way she immediately assessed the threat of the fake spider Eva had arranged on the bowl (largely for Jill's benefit, ha!) and decided it was okay because it had a smile.

I felt kind of like a rock star for finishing a project before Eva even went to school, so after lunch I delved into another (making fabric flowers).

some of Jill's genius cards

She was highly productive.

Fall sweater self-portrait, hooray!

a mothering success story

This week I finally, finally was able to implement the chore system I've been working on for a long time now. I am so pleased with the results! The boys have taken to it with little to no complaints. (Eva is another story, but we're working on it.)


These are all of the chores they did this week, in addition to regular things like unloading the dishwasher and taking out the trash. And we only did it for four day this week, due to Max's birthday (freebie!) and other plans today.

Landon was here on the day they had to wash the car, so he joined in. They completed the task in about 15 minutes!

Today I taught Lucas how to mow the lawn. It was difficult for him, hard to maneuver the mower and make the turns, hard to empty the bag. Plus, he hates loud noises, so he had to wear ear plugs. But he did it! He did a good job, too. I don't know how he could not feel pleased with his work.

I have had to help with some things – teach them how to do the jobs – and with others I just supervised or checked their work. The beautiful thing about this system is that they are simultaneously completing jobs that need to get done and learning valuable skills. I for one am excited.

spt -- #14 of 100

I had to postpone this one because I didn't have time yesterday to do it justice.

#7 of my 100 list: My grandmother Charlotte is my hero.

I studied this photo of her when she was a girl. She looks just as spunky and charismatic and fun and adorable as she is now at the age of 82. (and, boy, I can see the resemblance with my darling cousin Ashley!)

I wrote this post about her 2 1/2 years ago. I went back and read it tonight and now I can hardly type for the tears streaming down my face.

What can I add?

-- She taught me that whatever you do, it only has to be okay with you and with the Savior. Who cares what anyone else thinks? Even if they are close to you and disapprove of you at times, ultimately that does not matter if you have met the above criteria.

-- She taught me that Relief Society is important. She told me once that she received her education from Relief Society. She had very little formal education, but she is a highly refined, educated woman, so this gave me an entirely new respect and admiration for Relief Society.

-- She taught me many, many things about cooking, and she continues to commiserate with me about fallen cakes, gives me pointers, and passes along great new recipes.

-- She taught me that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of your hair, as long as you like it. (now if only it was easier for me to like it!)

-- She taught me that you can be happy, even when your circumstances do not seem very conducive to happiness. The first point above is crucial, but it goes beyond that. Even though she has macular degeneration and her eyesight is failing her progressively, she still finds ways to cook, iron, keep house, entertain, and be enviably cute all the while. She can't enjoy reading anymore, so she listens to audiobooks, and we still advise each other on our current favorites.

-- She taught me to embrace my love of words and not to censor my self for fear that others would look at me askance or not fully comprehend what I was talking about.

-- She taught me that wigs can indeed be cute. Stylish, even. (Though she would not approve of my posting this photo because she was wearing her "cooking wig" in it -- the one that got singed when she was pulling something out of the oven.)


-- She taught me that, if you can just hold on for about 40 years or so, being married is undeniably worth it. Sometimes that makes me laugh. And sometimes it makes me want to cry.

-- She taught me that if you are heavier than you'd like, you'll always look and feel better if you get clothes that actually fit, even if you cringe over buying a larger size.

-- We were talking about divorce the other day. Her parents are divorced, and she told me the following: "Honey, I often hear people talk about how they don't want to stay together just for their children. Well, I'll tell you, that's a damn good reason to stay together!" When she tells me things like this, I feel like I am stopped in my tracks. I make a mental note of it, and when I refer to it later, I can hear her voice in my mind.

-- She taught me that mothers are more concerned with behavior, and grandmothers are more concerned with feelings. (So that's why grandmothers are so wonderful!)

-- She taught me that when you find yourself in a place you'd rather not be (as when she was in a rehabilitation center after her knee replacement this year), you can choose to be a sunbeam for Jesus. I don't mind telling you, that song has never been anything more to me than a catchy tune, but hearing her say that, even in my mind, brings a catch in my throat.

-- She taught me about true reciprocity.

-- She taught me that our similarities are far more important than our differences. (She loves instrumental jazz.)

-- She taught me that a woman can be independent and still loving. She calls herself "gritty" because she is strong and knows she can weather all things with the Lord's help. I aspire to being just as gritty.

-- She taught me that aging gracefully is a beautiful thing.

-- She taught me that unconditional love is not only possible, but it's also pretty much the only thing that makes life worthwhile.

-- She taught me that a woman has unimaginable powers of influence.

I'm sure there's more, but honestly, I keep getting more and more choked up as I'm trying to type here, so I'm going to stop. To be continued, as Grandma often says at the end of our phone conversations...

I love you, Grandma. Charlotte Jane Hunter Petersen. My hero.

p.s. Lest you think she is perfect, I will say that I freely forgive her for her unwitting introduction of chubby knees and arthritis into my gene pool...