Religion, Family and Sunshine

We have had so much sunshine.  And warmth.  I was even able to plunge into the ocean.  (Of course, that's not saying much.)  I've been wearing shorts.  And fanning myself.  And turning on the ac in our car.

I. love. it!!  I feel like summer and spring and all good things warm have finally descended on our little island, just when I despaired of ever seeing them again.

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I'm still working on the anger/marriage thing.  I find that I have a lot of anger revolving around my faith and my family.  Robert hasn't really come to church with us since his father arrived to help us build our house, opting instead to help his dad.  His dad has no faith and doesn't like relaxing at home so he's been working seven days a week. I understand that Robert is wanting our house built and wanting to help his dad while he can.  I also understand that he feels guilty sitting and relaxing while his dad is working so hard to build our house.

But....

As I sit alone with my children in church, I feel resentful.  And alone.

Robert is the only member in his family; his parents raised him Catholic although neither his mother nor his father seem to have any religious life anymore.  When we married in the temple, no one in his family could come.  12 years later, that's still a sore point.  When his whole family wants to go out to eat or go out as a family on Sunday, we have been the abstainers.  And that has been a sore point.

My frustration, though, is that I feel that all that resentment comes down on me.  After all, they did not raise their son to have those beliefs and they feel that he does NOT currently hold those beliefs and only makes such choices to please me, but I am the evil Mormon girl who has torn their family apart.

I have lived with this for the last 12 years and now, when we have an opportunity to stand together and for Robert to show his beliefs, his choice is to work with his father and NOT to accompany me to church.

And that bothers me.

It also bothers me to sit there during the sacrament and have my children pester me about what we're doing tonight, not being able to find clothes, are they going to get candy, what do I think. . . .sometimes I feel like standing up and yelling, "SIT DOWN!  BE QUIET!  AND FEEL THE LOVE OF JESUS!!!"

Clearly, that would be contrary to the Spirit.

So I sit. And I stew.  And I pray for the resentment to be gone.

But every week it seems to rear its head.

How do I let go of all this anger and expectation and resentment and just worship God and seek to SHOW my children by my own choices how to worship and be reverent?

****

Previous statement aside, after posting all my baggage on my blog, I am feeling remarkably light and much happier.  Maybe it's just all that aforementioned sunshine. . . .

My Carry-On

Alternatively titled: I just really want to cry.

This last year has been difficult.  More difficult than I ever expected.  Should I take it as a measure of God's confidence in me that life seems to get more and more difficult?  Or should I just take it as a measure of my own self-defeating behaviors?  I'm never certain.

DH and I have been married for almost 13 years.

13 years of hard work.

When I first got married, I thought our marriage would be like my parents. They made it look ever so easy and fun.

I'm having a hard time finding the fun anymore.

We are arguing over ev.ery.thing.  Seriously.

The smallest comments seem to start a fight, even comments about how we don't want to start a fight.

For the first time, we both simultaneously want out.

Yet divorce is not really an option.  Religion aside, we both view marriage as a lifetime commitment.  We still love each other deeply.  And then there are the children.  When I was a teenager, I never understood why adults would want to stay together just for the children's sake.  Now that I'm a mom and wife, I totally get it.

I just don't know what to do.

I've been thinking lately about counseling but I have no idea how to find a counselor whom we both could work with.

It's funny, though.  I've been thinking of this post for the last several months.  This post was one of the reasons my blog moved and now that I'm typing it, I'm at a loss for words.

There have been so many times when I could have typed a long diatribe against my husband, listing his many faults and his many transgressions against me.

But right now, all I want to do is cry and wave a magic wand and make everything better.

Happily ever after better.

Can't Sleep

It's 10:35pm and I'm so tired my eyes have that dry burn to them.

I tried to sleep but every time I force my body to be still, my brain begins to whir and a knot of anxiety settles into my stomach.

Why so much anxiety?

Rafe hasn't finished his Million Dollar Project (MDP), which is due tomorrow.  He's only in 5th grade but he was up until 10pm tonight working on it and will have to turn it in a day late.  The assignment is to use $1,000,000 to create something of benefit to our local community.  Rafe has decided on doing a hands-on science museum with experiments, a classroom for more in-depth study and information about different scientists, who they were and their contributions to science.  Believe it or not, he has managed to spend only about $200,000.  So now, the night before it's all due, he's trying to figure out what to do with the other 800k. 

And I realize that this is NOT my assignment and that it is NOT my responsibility, but the knot of anxiety is still there.

Further, I just got a call from our local school district; Q and Eliza have been accepted into the Montessori program and while there is not an official position available for Rafe, the woman I spoke with was fairly certain that he could get a spot there since both of his siblings were attending.  So my musings have now turned into a "definite decision needed" and I find myself so undecided.

I want a crystal ball.

I want to look into the future and know, without question, that I am making the best decision for all of my children.  I am so uncertain and there are so many variables and I HATE that.  I like things to be clear, concise and easy to understand.  I like to be right.  Not just right, but unquestionably right.  And there is just no "right" answer to this quandary.

Further, Q has been having problems at school.  He has ADHD, which is most noticeable in his lack of impulse control and his abundance of energy.  His teacher and I have met and discussed the matter at length and we have even tried different methods to help him (a wiggle seat, a special pencil holder, writing in pen so he has to move more slowly and avoid mistakes) but he is still struggling with his tendency to fidget and drum on any available surface (including his chest if no other surface is available).

I've seen what mainstream school offers him and it is so little, despite his intelligence, because of his behavior problems.  It is my hope that the Montessori school, with smaller classroom sizes and a more flexible schedule, would be a better fit.  Then again, there is quite a bit of time with no overt schedule.

See?

What to do?  What to do?

Every time I talk myself into one decision, I find a million reason why I should make the other decision.

And when I pray, I find momentary peace but then the knot quickly returns, which is making it difficult for me to hear any still small voice beyond my own anxiety.

My Personal Item

I realized that when I said that I would be unpacking baggage, I only posted once and really, I've got so much more to unload.  I know - such whining and self pity!  But it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.

Today was Mother's Day, a day filled with conflict for me.

I missed my mom.  That thought rung so strong and true this year as I have been living in turmoil and uncertainty and needing, so desperately, a mother's hug and to hear her tell me that it will all be okay.

I also felt disappointed by my husband and my ward.  Every Sunday I am the one who gets the family out the door looking half ready for church and get us settled in the pews.  I pack and lug the back with the children's notebooks, tissues and Friend magazine.  I remind everyone to go to the bathroom and get drinks, etc.  DH rolls out of bed 15 minutes before it's time to leave, throws on some clothes and away we roll.

Today, he didn't even do that much.

I think he joined us about half way through the meeting.  It was hard for me to let go of my resentment and anger.  Because if I was a fish, he would have been up at 4am.

Today, due to a series of unfortunate events, was fast Sunday.

The angel on my shoulder is telling me that this was a perfect day for a fast Sunday and that I could have used this opportunity to recognize the real strength in my mothering - God - and given up my pride and served Him whose day this truly it.

But I'm too much of a heathen.

I tried to be good.  I assured my children that since they couldn't make me breakfast in bed - which they actually really enjoy doing - they could fast for me instead.  Trust me - I could so, so use those blessings!  My 11 year old was the only one who managed to fast.  My 9 and 6 year old whined and whined about how hungry they were so I told them to just go eat.  I wasn't trying to be harsh but in my head all I could think about was that Eliza (6) had fasted for our neighbor when she was sick and that both of them had fasted when Q (9) requested that we have a family fast for people with breast cancer.  YET THEY COULDN'T FAST FOR THEIR OWN MOTHER!!!  ON MOTHER'S DAY!!!

Yeah, that didn't help my bitterness.

And then, because they are 11, 9 and 6, they started fighting over the whole matter and who loved me best and who had given me the best gift.

Please. stop. the. fighting!

Then there was the ward.  I was really frustrated with the whole idea of a fast on Mother's Day.

I hear time and time again from the prophets and apostles how important women are.  Mother's Day is, for me, when the church puts it's money where it's mouth is and spends a day actually showing us how important we are.  To give up this opportunity (and yes, I'm feeling like a swine as I type this) for a spiritual fast and actually focus solely on God, frustrated me.

There was no children's chorus about walking in meadows.

There were no primary cards with poems about the meaning of motherhood.

There were no talks on the sacredness of motherhood and how we are God's hands.

There were flowers - for which I was incredibly grateful as last year this ward didn't even do that.

But overall, I left feeling like it had been just another Sunday.

I know.

Get off my pity pot.

I know I'm wrong to feel so much resentment and anger over the progression of today but I'm unsure how to deal with it and let it go.

Do I just set down my bag and leave it unintended?

If I just stop talking about it, will it all go away?

How do I release anger without hurting others or myself?

How do I release resentment and not let it fester?

How do I feel cherished, important and love without the external trappings from other humans?  I know God should be enough but somehow He isn't.  Is it just that I'm not good enough yet?

I Dreamed A Dream

I find dreams to be very odd things.  I am genuinely impressed by people who get messages from God via dreams or those who are able to interpret their dreams for applicable life wisdom.

Myself - I think they're just odd.


Last night I dreamed that Robert and I were shopping in a store that I've never physically been in.  There were plates and other dishes at head level displayed like on a rack and then cups at arm level with nick-knacks and candles just below.  I wandered down the isles trying to find the perfect mug (the majority of the proffered mugs were my favorite shape, a rounded perfect hand fit, so the perfect mug was more a question of graphic design or color).


Some of the mugs were odd flower shaped things that didn't look like they would hold much at all.  There were plenty of floral and fairy nick-knacks.

And teapots.

Because I was thinking about getting a matching teapot and mug.  However, I didn't want to buy just any old mug, I wanted the perfect set with the end result being that I didn't buy anything because I couldn't find it.  Although I was still looking when the dream ended.

That's it.

Not the oddest dream I've had.  (I think that one was the dream where a bad guy was trying to kill me with a knife and that my mom and Aunt - after rescuing me - were driving me back into his clutches once they understood what I was running from.)

But still I wonder what is the point of dreams?  Episodes like this make me wonder what the heck is going on in my head.

Tulips. Finally.

It's true.

Daffodils.  Tulips.  Flowers.  Leaves.  Spring is finally, FINALLY here.

This makes me very happy.

Insecurities

I have a hard time making friends.

Don't get me wrong; I gather acquaintances quite rapidly.  But friends, true deep, can completely be myself and never worry about what they think of me?  Those are hard to find.  I often feel as though I'm the kind of person that everyone befriends only on a surface level, a "Hi.  How ya doin?" at church kind of level but then studiously avoids any deeper relationship because I'm just too high maintenance.

I also often wonder how much of that problem is my own perception of myself.

I've filled out those silly little questionnaire memes that ask you all your favorites.  One of the questions, "Would you be friends with yourself?" always stops me cold.  I. don't. know.  I'm dramatic and overly emotional and I cry so often even I get annoyed.  It's hard, on some days, to find anything redeeming in myself.

I also struggle more than I should with what others think of me.  I started taking "happy pills" over two years ago.  There were so helpful and gave me the boost I needed to deal with my mother's death and move along in the grieving process.  I weaned myself off (yes, under my physicians supervision) only to have the two most important people in my life suggest that perhaps I should go back on.  I found their statements devastating as I felt like the two people I entrusted myself with didn't like me the way I am; they like me better a bit more stable and medicated.

There are days when I ask God why He created me as He did and what the value is to be found in all these emotions and idiosyncrasies of mine.  Most days I can't find an answer.

John recently wrote a beautiful post wherein he stated the following:

It was a very clear revelation. The Spirit simply said: "Do not pass through those doors if there is any doubt in your mind that you are equal to every single other person who walks through those doors. You are not inferior in any way. You are as deserving and worthy of every blessing your Heavenly Father desires pour out on every single one of his children. Do not enter without knowing that."

 I know that his struggle is different from mine, but I have often felt the same way.  I see women and men all around me who seem so much more together than me.  It certainly doesn't help that after almost 20 years of work, a college education and lots of wishing and dreaming that I find myself basically back where I was at the age of 16.  I feel like I'm stuck in mud and spinning my wheels unable, perhaps unwilling, to actually go anywhere.  I self-sabotage.  I start healthy habits and follow them religiously only to abandon them completely after just a few days.

I wish I had a point or some conclusion.  I find that frequently with blogging there is no nice little bow to tie at the end of these posts.  I would like to say that by reading John's post I've been inspired that I am enough and that I can accept myself, warts and all, as a beloved daughter of God but while I believe all that to be true, I just don't BELIEVE all that to be true.

And so I struggle.

And cry.

And eat some chocolate.

*sigh*

Unpacking

The question on everyone's mind: Why the move Miss Mouse?

Well....it was a hard decision to make and I still wonder if I'm being overly dramatic.  This blog began in an effort to keep my dear friend in Colorado informed about my life.  Since then it has evolved to being my shoulder to cry on, my soapbox and my megaphone for bragging about my children.  Sometimes, it's even my therapist.  All of that was threatened awhile ago when my friends (real, live people with whom I physically interact on a regular basis) discovered that I have a blog.  I took their discovery as an opportunity to be more authentic and to merge all these many facets of myself into one whole. 

Everything went really well and I was happy feeling as though I was being honest with the world.

However, such honesty opens oneself up and when one is open, the reality is that pain often follows.

A family member, whom I used to count as a dear friend, knew of my blog and was probably one of my most faithful followers.  Since moving to Alaska, though, and spending a great deal of time with her, I am reevaluating our relationship.  The truth is that while this woman is genuinely a kind soul without a malicious bone in her body, her perspectives, humor and way of dealing with life often conflict with my own.  Looking back on moments of pain between her and I, I truly believe that she never meant to hurt me but hurt is what I felt.  And, like the child who touches a hot stove only to be burned, I am reluctant to make myself that open and vulnerable to her again.  I have to continue the relationship: our children adore each other; we are family living less than a mile away from each other; we attend the same ward; we carpool. . . .it goes on and on. 

And since I have to continue the relationship, I have decided to set a few boundaries.  I don't call very often and I limit how often I hang out with her.  And, I have moved my blog.  A bit cowardly, I know.  I should have had a conversation with her, but I'm afraid of hurting her or causing more drama.  So, I'm working on getting my family blog active (you know, the one with my real name and actual pictures of my real children) and inviting her to that.  And I moved my personal blog, changed the name and am now unpacking all of my baggage.

It's good to feel comfortable and truly have this be a nest where my hair can hang down but I'm a bit disappointed that I failed in my efforts to be authentic and true and the same person to all people. 

I guess I'm just not quite ready.