Category Archives: Diapers

The dirty side of motherhood.

Facing your own demons

Posted in Diapers, Divinity by

I believe that the hardest part of being a mother is learning things about yourself that you didn’t want to know.droppedimage1

Before I was a mother . . .

  • I did not know that after a full day of picking up toys and hounding others to do the same, a slew of inappropriate thoughts and words would come rushing into my mind when I stepped on a Mr. Potato Head piece at 2 a.m.

  • I had no idea that when I was awakened by a flashlight in my retina, spilled yogurt on the floor and the smell of a potty-training accident, it would take almost an entire day before I could let the angry feelings go.

  • I never thought that I would breathe out threatenings like a fiery dragon when my 4 1/2 year old still wouldn’t poop on the potty.

  • I wasn’t aware that when I function on almost no sleep, even the tiniest inconvenience can tip my scales and make me the wicked witch of the homestead.

  • I thought I was a morning person.

  • I even thought I was a patient and laid-back person. (laugh out loud)

  • I was punctual and responsible, and got really annoyed when other people were late.  I think I’ve been on time to 6 events in the last 5 years.

  • I certainly didn’t think I’d ever be one of those moms whose entire house is full of chaos and clutter.

(And don’t get me started on personal hygiene, and exercise and beauty routines …)

But the fact is, I did become a mom and I was forced to face some truths about myself that were quite shocking and disagreeable.  Whenever new moms ask for advice, I always say, “Be prepared to learn things about yourself that you don’t like.  It’s hard, but you’ll figure it out.”  Of course this realization is wonderful, too, because it’s exactly what makes us turn to our Savior for help.  Learning that we are not as strong as we thought we were makes us recognize how much we need Him.  I always loved the scripture in Ether 12:27, and even more now that I’m a mom:  “And if men [or women, or moms] come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.”  I just love that.  Given the list above, how could I not?

(This entry was originally posted on August 23, 2008.  I’m trying to recreate my lost archives.)

Lovely ladies

Posted in About Blogs, Diapers by

dscf1750Lately I’ve been feeling grateful for wonderful women in my life. Sometimes we let ourselves drown a little bit in the dreary details of motherhood, but a conversation with another mother I admire can lift my spirits, refocus my purpose, and remind me that I am not alone in what sometimes seems difficult.

When I was 16 years old, I was the only girl from my church group that was not invited to a particular formal date dance. When the next day at church, I was the only one who showed up in a regular dress, and the rest of the girls were all wearing their formal gowns from the night before (for the record, I’m not fond of that “trend”), I felt like an idiot. And in typical teenage fashion, I felt dramatically sorry for myself. I went home and moped for most of the afternoon, until the doorbell rang. There on my doorstep was Julia, the president of my young women’s class. Julia was a senior at my high school, and she had recently undergone a bone marrow transplant in an attempt to escape the cancer that had come and gone more than once. She was bald, but had a lovely smile, face, and grace about her. Anyway, she showed up at my house that afternoon with a small flower pot and a card. It said “Bloom where you are planted.” Apparently, she sensed my hurt feelings at church and went out of her way to reach out to me and encourage me. The irony was not lost on me. My problems were small and insignificant in comparison to hers, yet she was noble enough to acknowledge them and encourage me.

This trend has repeated itself many times in my life, especially recently. In the last month alone I can pinpoint conversations I’ve had with women who have significant struggles that make mine look ridiculous at best. But like Julia, they have served me. They have showed me kindness and made me feel their love and God’s love through them. One has a handicapped daughter and struggles daily with decisions related to her care and balancing her needs with those of her other children. Another recently overcame cancer while caring for her three small children. One has five, yes FIVE, children with special needs and amazes me frequently with her spiritual insight and willingness to listen to me. Another, pregnant with her fourth child, was just diagnosed with cancer. These women are AMAZING. They think they are ordinary, but they are great examples to me, and I thank God I know them.

President Ezra Taft Benson said, and I whole-heartedly agree:

The fellowship of true friends who can hear you out, share your joys, help carry your burdens, and correctly counsel you is priceless. For one who has been in the prison of depression, the words of the Prophet Joseph Smith have special meaning: “How sweet the voice of a friend is; one token of friendship from any source whatever awakens and calls into action every sympathetic feeling.” . . . What a boon to be in the company of those who edify us!

I’m also constantly amazed by those of you who drop by this blog and whom I read about as I surf the blog world.  You are good women with good hearts doing good things.  We should all tell each other that more often.  We need to say it, and we need to hear it.

A few shout-outs, just because I feel like it:

Jana at The Meanest Mom always makes me laugh.  Her post today cracked me up.  I love her integrity in parenting; sticking to her guns despite the pushes and pulls of children and critics.  (She’s also hosting a great giveaway, but you don’t need to pay much attention to that.  I believe 47,000 people have already signed up for it, so your chances are probably better with Powerball or the NFL draft.)

Heather at the Extraordinary Ordinary wrote a great post this week about the lessons that motherhood forces us to learn.  It made me think so much that I had to email her instead of leaving a comment because I was so verbose I would have been a comment pirate and taken over her post.  I love her authenticity and substance.  Incidentally, I spent some time with her in person recently and she’s just as lovely in real life.

And all of you that have commented on the General Conference Book Club posts have impressed me so much.  Thank you for being as cool and insightful as you are.  Really.  I’ve spent the last two nights falling asleep while reading Elder Christofferson’s talk, but I’m going to jump in tomorrow with my own feedback.  Hope to hear from many more of you, too.

And I have to mention this lovely lady:  dscf2015

She’s one spunky, delightful little girl who keeps me smiling.  Her daddy’s out of town this week and it’s endearing to see how much she misses him.  Today, she bumped her nose and said, “When daddy gets home, I will show him my nose and he’ll kiss it better.”  When I  grow up, I bet she’ll be my favorite woman on the planet.

Going postal

Posted in Diapers by

post-officeI wish stay-at-home moms got to stay at home more, because sometimes going places in public with children really bites.  I have a top ten list of places I hate to go with my children.  When you have three children in car seats, there is no such thing as a “run in and run out” errand.  The post office is high on the list of unpleasant outings, along with the DMV, doctor appointments, and Visiting teaching.

Maybe there’s just an unusually high percentage of grumpy postal workers in my neck of the woods, but I seriously cringe when I have to go INSIDE to take care of postal business.  I don’t know what it is, but my children walk into a post office and get a primal urge to run around in small circles.  It does not matter that we have a little chat about it in the car before we go inside.  Those retractable stand-in-line barrier things are of the devil (and also part of the reason that the bank is on my top-ten list).  I’m talking about these:

belt

I might as well be speaking Russian to  Japanese Snow Monkeys when I repeatedly ask my kids not to touch them.  The previously-threatened and then followed-through time-out that they recieve at home does not even deter them.  This picture represents the relationship between a four-year-old’s hands and those dumb retractable-belt barriers:

mothflameSo, anyway, I had to go to the post office Saturday.  The last two times I went were around the holidays, so you can understand why I’ve stayed away so long.  (One of those involved a federal offense where I left with unpurchased merchandise that I’d already written on because I simply could not stand in line any longer.  For the record, I have since returned and paid my debt to society.)  And in this particular post office in the past, my children were all yelled at by a “gentleman” behind the counter who firmly reminded them that there’s NO RUNNING.  So I gave the lecture, and my three little post-office demons and I walked in.  Luckily there were only a couple people in line, and I tried to use my mental powers to keep my children by my side while I purchased and addressed padded envelopes.  However, I refer you back to the pictures above, and you can guess what happened.  I called their names many times and reminded them to stay by me and stop running in circles like rabid terriers.

The lovely postal worker, however, could not refrain from also barking at them, so I was annoyed.  Again.  And when I went to the counter and paid, and she said to me, “Boy, they sure have a lot of energy today,” I kind of snapped a little.  I didn’t really go postal, but I was bugged.  I tried (unsuccessfully) to hide the snark as I said, “They always do.  They’re CHILDREN!.”  Then I concentrated on my PIN for my debit card, forced a smile, left, and promised myself for the 746th time since I had children to never return to the post office again.

So, um, Becca and The Queen, you’d better appreciate that chocolate!

What’s on your I’d-rather-brush-my-teeth-with-toe-jam-than-go-there-with-my-children list?  You know you have one.

“Mom, you’re not going to like this…”

Posted in Diapers by

This entry was originally posted on August 21, 2008.  (I’m trying to rebuild my lost archives.)

droppedimage“Mom, you’re not going to like this…”

(That is how 4-year-old Clark’s confession began last night as he was putting on his pajamas,) “… but sometimes when we’re at Aunt Becca’s house and I go to the bathroom …” (uh oh, this is going to be bad.) … “I can’t reach the sink, so I just wash my hands in the toilet.”  I didn’t even believe him until he vigorously nodded his head up and down and said, “I’m serious, mom.”

“But Claaaaark, that only makes your hands dirtier!”

(with a look of regret) “Oops!  And I forgot soap, too.”

You can imagine Aunt Becca’s great joy at hearing the news, her mind reeling through the many times she’d asked him to go wash his hands so he could help her make cookies or dinner.  Of course, Daddy thought this was a hilarious story and all the boys laughed and laughed together.  I have no life lesson to attach to this story; it was just too good to not share.  Perhaps my biggest concern is his great pleasure at our reaction of shock and disgust.  This does not bode well for the future.  Sigh.

dscf2011

“Don’t cry over spilt milk.” Seriously?

Posted in Diapers, Divinity by

(This post was originally published on August 20, 2008.  I’m trying to recreate my lost archives.)

dscf1430Maybe your children are cleaner than mine, but I honestly think that we average about 5 spills a day at my house.  Milk, cereal bowls, yogurt, toothpaste, boxes of anything small and impossible to pick up, the list goes on and on. Here is a picture taken just today of a routine cereal box tumble.  Is this kind of clumsiness really necessary?  I’ve thought about this long and hard because it boggles my mind about why God would want this spill routine to be a part of my daily experience.  And, let’s be honest; He probably doesn’t want it to be, but He allows it to be.  That usually means there’s a lesson to be learned.

  1. We have to clean up our own messes. I think it’s important that my children know that whether we were careless or intentional, we need to make it better.  Let’s work together and clean up.  I know a few adults (and I’m sure you do too) that don’t accept responsibility for their mistakes and then leave all the fixing to someone else.  I believe that our Heavenly Father looks at our mistakes with mercy, but He wants us to be accountable for them and do all in our power to make it better.  And just like a mom will be by your side to help you pick up the pieces when you spill, He will be by our side picking up the pieces of our own mistakes if we turn to Him for help.
  2. Maybe my plans aren’t that important. A big part of the frustration for me is that every time there’s another spill I have to spend 10-15 minutes cleaning it up instead of doing something else I think I should be doing.  Is it possible that Heavenly Father is giving me a gentle reminder over and over again that what I think I have to do doesn’t matter that much?  I doubt he considers cleaning up the spill a monumental task with eternal consequences, but why are my own plans any more important?  So maybe each spill is just a little “get over your own agenda” reminder.
  3. Be patient. I mean, seriously, if mushy cereal on my kitchen floor is among the greatest trials in my life, I really need to put a smile back on my face and move on with my day.  Remember how the scripture says “charity is kind, patient, long-suffering, etc.”?; I’m sure there’s a footnote in there somewhere that says, “and charity wipes up spills with a smile.”  Ugh.  I’ll work on that.  I’m sure I’ll have the chance again tomorrow.

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Happy Easter, everyone.  Check back on Sunday (probably evening) for Round 1 of General Conference Book Club.