Inside my mind when I'm depressed

I wake up and get dressed and "feel" fine so far. I even have a little hope for the day and how it will turn out despite the last few days of mostly struggle to feel normal and act normal.

I get to go in and snuggle with my girls as they wake up, one of my favorite things to do. They reach for me and hug me and I am happy to give them love back... for now, I think because they're quiet and they're moving slowly and gently.

We all make our way to the kitchen where I offer to make them each toast.

Fast forward about 20 minutes. I realize I haven't paid a toll fee from driving through Texas and so I start the automated process on the phone and see that Mia has left her chair at the bar and left almost all of her toast uneaten.

I want her toast, it's from my homemade bread and I've told her so many times that she needs to stay at her seat until she is done and if she leaves then she may lose her food to Sandy or me.  So, I reach over and eat her toast as I key in my invoice number for my fee.

She comes in seconds later, sees her toast is gone and starts whining and crying for it.  I hang up because I can't do both, I'll do it later.  After talking to her about why her toast is gone I must have felt some guilt because I told her if she asked kindly I would make her a new piece of toast.

While it was in the toaster I move to the laundry room which is in sight of Mia at the bar. I start switching the load to the dryer and hear the toast pop.  She tells me her toast is ready and I tell her "just a minute" and then she begins to whine louder because I haven't started walking to the toaster yet.

I hear that whine in the middle of changing the laundry, knowing that I'll be done in a matter of seconds and my body wells up with energy that I feel I have to let out. It's in my stomach and my shoulders, then my neck and then it comes out my mouth as I raise my voice to say "NO!" or some one-word loud answer, I don't even remember what I said.

I knew I was taking advantage of my "bigness" to punish Mia.  Her face squished together, turned red and tears starting coming as she began a big cry.  I had no sympathy in me even though it was my outburst that led to her scared and insecure feelings.

I buttered her toast, cut it in half and push it across the counter to her general area before I walked out of the room.  She was still crying and expressed no interest in the toast.

I walked back to the hallway and briefly considered asking Sarah to sit with Mia because she was sad and then remembered all the times that Sarah has tried to comfort Mia when she wanted me and knew that wasn't a good idea.  Mia was yelling,  "Mama! I want Mama!" in between sobs.  I hid behind the wall, deciding if I would be able to be there for her or not. I took a leap of faith and went into the kitchen and sat by her and looked at her face. Still all bunched up and red and now her cheeks were wet and her green eyes sparkled with the pool of tears waiting to spill over. She cried again, "Mama, I want Mama."

In that moment I felt like an imposter. I'm not going to be able to help her, I've just upset her and I'm just going to keep disappointing her. She would be better off without me is what I thought.

The instant I thought that last thought I recognized what was happening. I was thinking things that were lies. I decided in a split-second to not believe the thought and put my arms out to take my daughter into them.  She came quickly into my arms and I held her tight while her precious head rested on my shoulders and her little strong legs wrapped around my core.  I felt so much love for her. I felt a little relief from my negative thoughts and knew it was best I was there to hug her and talk to her and apologize for yelling.

After hugging, she pulled away from me and looked at me and said, "I want Mama." again which I thought was ironic and telling. She had me physically but I still wasn't completely there mentally.

Now, I'm exhausted. The girls are watching their tablets and I was listening to a book when I realized I wanted to write this down. I wanted to give you a glimpse of my experience when I'm depressed.

It doesn't make any sense at all to me why I experience this so I can't expect others to understand.

This amount of depression for this many days in a row (about 5 as of today) is very rare for me. I am seeing a counselor 1-2 times a week right now and have told friends in all of my circles. 

I know I'm experiencing this for a reason, I feel glimpses of immense gratitude that I go through this so I can empathize with others.  And if you want to, send me a text or a message just to see how I'm doing.  It's most helpful and comforting when someone cares enough to ask how I am and then lets me just talk or write what I want in response. Thank you!

My husband

This is on my mind often. The fact that I chose to marry Stephen Michael Keller almost 10 years ago and the incredible, beautiful, surprising joy that has come from that decision.

We met on a blind date after my parents and his grandparents had lunch and "Nana" called Michael with my phone number and a directive to call me.  We liked each other instantly and I wanted to kiss him on our first date. He waited almost a month to kiss me, one of the first of many gestures of respect towards me from him.

On that topic I want to write. How this guy has shown me respect in the most unexpected way.  I want to sum it up in a couple words and I'm not sure how to do that so I'll just keep writing until I figure it out.

When I'm confused, sad, lonely, frustrated, scared, anxious, embarrassed, or mad Michael expects me to make myself feel better.  He will physically be there, listen to me and look at me when I'm talking, hug me when I ask him to (it's OK to need some prompting sometime :)), offer suggestions when I ask for help and support me in any way I choose to move forward, BUT, he will not try to fix my situation and he will not try to make me feel better.

You may have guessed that this perplexed me at first- it bothered me and sometimes infuriated me- that he wouldn't "mirror" my emotions and be anxious for me to feel better! After all, that is what I learned meant someone cared- but now I know that's not always (or rarely) best.

Now, in our 10th year of marriage it's one of the things I'm most grateful for to him. That in the face of a problem his partner is experiencing, he has the humility, wisdom and respect to let me figure it out.

A lot of my confidence  can be traced back to this practice of his and my subsequent experience learning to confront and manage my own emotions, thoughts and actions.

It has inspired me to be an empowering spouse like he is and avoid the nit-picking, nagging and trying to "fix" him.  When I express confidence in his abilities and allow him to learn from his own mistakes he actually does the most growing, has the most joy and is then able to be his best self.  Which, in the end blesses our marriage relationship too.  Same goes for our children and how we empower them to figure things out.

Thanks for letting me share something so dear to my heart, something that literally has kept me up at night in tears of gratitude.  I hope it inspires you to recognize the good in your family and friends and have confidence in them and yourself.

just do it

I compose sentences in my mind all the time. When I'm in the shower, when I'm trying to go to sleep, when I experience something that teaches me something new, when I'm outside and see something beautiful- I go into writing mode and think thoughts that I hope if written down would serve as a beautiful memory of what I was experiencing and maybe even inspire someone else in some way.  As you may have already noticed, I'm no expert on grammer and punctuation and even though I studied journalism in school, much of what I learned has escaped me by now. But, I still have a passion to write. And, so, since school I've written some blog posts, some lengthy Facebook/IG posts, letters, thank you notes, and a lot of journal entries. I've also started a few essays hoping to submit them to our Church's magazine and never followed through.  Now I've decided to just write, hence the title to just do it.
Here are some things I've written about in my head and plan on writing down here on this blog this year.

-my network marketing experience
-homeschooling
-CrossFit
-finance lessons and goals
-taking things personally
-marriage
-motherhood
-faith
-traveling
-communication
-patience
-thought-work
-reading
-stuff (like stuff we consume and accumulate in our home)
-forgiveness
-grace
-miracles

Those are just from the top of my head.  I just wanna be clear that I'm doing this for me and I'm also excited at the thought that maybe a few people will be inspired by what I write.  But, to be honest, I've learned that even if nobody reads or likes what I've written that it's just as valuable as if a million people read it and like it.  It's from my mind and my heart and that's amazing.  It's amazing because it feels so good to write. It's amazing because it's me and there's no other me. It's amazing because I've been gifted with a brain that thinks deeply about a lot of stuff and writing, sharing and connecting make me feel alive, loved and hopeful.

I'll see you next time I write.

Minta

Thought Work- an example

I'm going to explain how my day is going in order to learn about myself and potentially relate with others that might be like me.

Tomorrow we leave for a week and a half. We're going to Colorado and Utah. I still have to pack all of us and make food to bring. I want to work out, shower, get ready, do the dishes, pay attention to my girls, help them help me with trip preparations and go to a Relief Society activity this evening. I'd also like to clean my office/home school room and vacuum the whole house.

I also told Sarah we'd take our walk to the cemetery since we didn't on Sunday.

And I have some stuff I told my mom I would send her.

Ok, so I have some stuff to get done today and what do I think and feel and do now? I think, "It's going to take a miracle to do everything. Something is going to be left undone and that's ok. Is it? Michael is going to think I'm a mess and unorganized and irresponsible and lazy. Oh man, I need to get to work. All I want to do is sit and relax.  I want to be calm. I want to feel prepared. Am I willing to do the uncomfortable work of preparing in order to be prepared?"

That was a lot of my thoughts and maybe too much for some of you. If you aren't interested in dissecting my thoughts and hearing what I'll do to turn my day around then you can move on to something else cause that's just what I'm going to do.

I like to think, is the thought helping? And from my work with EmyLee MacIntyre I've learned to ask myself, how does that thought make me feel and how do I show up when I feel that way?

So, because time is finite and like I said before I'm leaving tomorrow on a trip, let me dissect just one thought.

I'm going to dissect the thought about what my husband is going to think about me.

So, when I think, "Michael is going to think I'm a mess and unorganized and irresponsible and lazy" how does that make me feel? That makes me feel mad. Probably because I'm not those things, but why it makes me feel that way is not what I'm working on right now, I'm just identifying in one-word how it makes me feel. 

So, what feeling do I want?

I want to feel peace.

Now I ask myself, what thought can I think that would help me feel peace?

What about, "It's OK for Michael to have the wrong idea about me."

*insert* when we're doing "thought work" it's normal to "try thoughts on" and see how it feels.  If it doesn't feel right because it's not genuine or sincere or doesn't promote any feeling then try a different thought! (all learned from EmyLee MacIntyre!)

When I think, "It's OK for Michael to have the wrong idea about me" I honestly don't feel much.  So, I'm going to try a new thought.

And, as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that I'm not so worried about what Michael will think as I am worried about what I think about myself. That means that I'm going to be honest about what thought it is I'm thinking that makes me feel so worried/powerless about getting everything done today.

"I can't do everything I need to do to be prepared and still do everything else I normally do on a normal day."

That's what I'm thinking and how am I showing up?  Well, I'm still in my pajamas (it's 11:30), My kids are watching tv even though I'd rather them be actively helping with the preparation, I'm writing (which could be viewed as an avoidance but I like to think it's actually going to help!! *I choose to think that and so it will help because of how that thought makes me "show up" when I'm done writing!!- a mini thought work session in the middle of another!), I've done more sitting and worrying and I'm physically tense.

So now I need to decide what thought is going to help me show up differently, productively, peacefully and kindly.

How about, "I am going to get everything necessary done before we leave and enjoy myself and my family while I'm doing it."

I feel calm when I say that out loud, so that's the thought I'm going to repeat and believe today because that's close enough of the same for me as peace like I  mentioned earlier.

And when I'm calm I'm productive and creative and kind and thoughtful.

And because I show up in those ways today I know I will actually accomplish all that I need to today.

So, by choosing a certain thought that will help me feel a specific way I get to have the results I want.

This may seem all too simple and you may think, "I don't need someone to tell me all of that!! I'm not a fool!"  and that's ok if that's the case.

But, if you have moments, times, days, months of stress or depression (aside or added to normal diagnosed depression) or intense worry, regret or sadness, these practices or this thought work might actually make a big difference like it has for me.

I'm still learning so much about circumstances being neutral and the thoughts we choose to have about them or the meaning we give our circumstances being what creates our feelings, actions, results and overall experience.  If what I shared appears to have some holes in it it's because it does.... if you wanna know more you can google "the model"  or look up the people that have helped me with this type of work: Brooke Castillo, Jody Moore and EmyLee MacIntyre.

Good luck and here I go tackling my day with calm!! Woohooo!! Now I'm excited!!

Mia's Birth

So... it's been over 3 weeks since she came.
Rhea came over and checked me and told me I was 6 cm and progressing quickly, she got real serious and said we needed to go to the hospital right then.
My contractions were coming every few minutes. On the way to the car I stopped to pass through one and Rhea didn't let me, she told me to keep walking, we had to get to the hospital!  I threw the big exercise ball to the side in the garage realizing I wasn't going to be doing a lot of waiting around once we got there.
The Hanns were there to pick Sarah up but we didn't have time to say goodbye so we put her in our car and had them follow us to the hospital.
I'm grateful Sarah was there for that ride.
She was so cute.
I decided to sit in the back with her so I could provide any reassurance she'd need since everything happened so fast and we had just literally woken her up and dragged her out of bed.
It worked out so well because I was distracted by Sarah and didn't even notice the red lights.
I had at least 1 contraction in the car and Sarah was a bit confused and shocked by the low "uhh" noises I started making from out of nowhere.  It was then she must have realized that I was going through something really physically and psychologically demanding because she got really quiet.
Once we were there I stepped out of the car, trying to cover myself with my blue robe- I did have a bra and underwear on underneath at least!
I kissed Sarah and she said she wanted to go with Jared and Jackson and I was soooo happy she went with them willingly and happily.
I walked into the hospital and had a contraction in between the automatic doors.  It was most comfortable to have weight off of my back and hips so I got on all fours and was going through the contraction in silence when a man from the waiting room came over to see if I was OK and started telling the staff that there was "a woman on the ground over here!"
Michael yelled from the outside while the automatic door was open that it was OK, that "[she's] in labor".  The man didn't seem content to just leave me which was really sweet.
It's crazy to think of how in the zone I am during strong contractions... that's how I get through it, though, by fully letting go of everything around me and letting the contraction pass through me.
A woman got me a wheel chair and Rhea helped me onto it.  She helped answer questions the nurses had for me to help since I was barely talking and definitely didn't talk during a contraction! Crazy people- expecting me to talk during contraction.
The woman started wheeling me up to the labor and delivery floor and asked me if I was in Walmart the day before.  I was. Turns out she was behind me in line (we bought a LOT of stuff so she was behind me for a while) at Walmart and said she was positive I was having contractions by the way I was walking and breathing and holding my tummy.  I laughed about thought- what an awesome coincidence!
We got to the elevator and waited for a family to get out before we could get in.
We arrived to the 2nd floor and wheeled down to the delivery room.  They pushed for me to get on the bed.  I was so uncomfortable on the bed and I felt like I was going to push her out any second.
They kept asking me dumb questions like "what is your name and birthdate?"  Later I realized they did that for security reasons...
My water hadn't broken and the doctor wasn't there, but my baby was coming out whether we felt ready or not.  The nurses seemed stressed to me and I didn't care because I could feel that my daughter would come out without much help.
The urge to push was so stinking strong, so much stronger than it was with Sarah, and so much faster to come that I was scared.  I yelled a couple times that I was scared and Rhea reassured me immediately and the calm and happy look on her face kept me confident that everything was going to be OK.  Michael also came and held my hand and tried to show me he loved me even though I could tell he was shocked about the quickness of this birth also.
They had me push, which wasn't very hard to do, my body was doing it for me already pretty much.  And then they had me slow down and not push and that was really challenging.  I had just read somewhere that if I pretend to blow out my birthday candles then that would provide the control to not push even when that's all my body wants to do.  So this came to my mind and I started to do that and it helped!
Michael said that at this point it looked like a balloon was coming out, not a baby.  Mia was still in the amniotic sac and the balloon was the sac.  The nurses were trying to break my water with no success.
It was 5 whole minutes of being on the delivery bed before Mia came out.
I sat up and looked at her.
She was so calm and so beautiful.
I looked at her while she was still in the amniotic sac for maybe 30 seconds but it felt like 5 minutes. It was like time stood still so I could take some wonderful mental pictures and video. :)  She reached her hand out and broke the sac herself!
That first night with her was so magical.  Listening to Pandora with a MoTab station and holding Mia near me all night.  I woke up every couple hours to feed her and record feedins,wet and messy diapers and each time I'd look at her and just want to be by her all the time.

Strong Family Ties from Far Away

I am a physically affectionate person.  When I’m with people I love and feel comfortable with you’ll usually find me playing with their hair, giving massages, hugging or snuggling them somehow.  I am a firm believer that I’ll never be too old to snuggle with my parents… They’ll always be my parents and I’ll always be their daughter. The act of feeling safe in their arms is natural and instinctual and crucial to remembering where I came from.

Somehow, even though I express love and feel love through physical affection, I have felt the love for my family deepen and increase (change to be stronger, better, more mature) over the last 6 years of living in different states.

I guess I could argue that although physical touch is the most powerful way to show me you love me, words of affirmation and acts of service can show me too. And, I can learn to receive love in different ways.

Phone calls, texts, blog posts, FaceTime, Skype, letters, packages, more phone calls, costly visits, more phone calls.  That’s how I communicate with my family that’s far away. 

I could imagine living close to them, like in a nearby town, and how much that’d change our experience.  I probably wouldn’t FaceTime or chat on the phone for long periods with my parents since we would know we can actually see each other in person very soon or that day if we wanted to.  That means that Sarah wouldn’t have her one-on-one phone conversations with my mom where she gets to have her all to herself.  Sarah’s communication skills have definitely been affected by the fact that she gets to communicate on the phone with her grandparents often.  That means she has to focus on something she can’t see if they’re not FaceTiming and she has to practice formulating relevant verbal questions and answers.

I was standing in my kitchen in home we lived in on Fort Rucker, AL while my mom and I talked on the phone. In that conversation I realized that we were trying to love each other without considering how the other feels loved best. I learned that her love language is “acts of service” and one of my strongest next to physical affection is “words of affirmation”.  I wanted to hear her tell me why she loved me and how much she loved me or else it was hard for me to believe that she loved me… crazy, right? Or maybe it’s not so crazy.  These were the words that I heard my mom say next.  “I adore you, Minta.” I felt so much peace and comfort in that moment. It was like I could finally believe that my mom loves and accepts all of me.   That was about three years ago and I still relive that moment in my mind often to remind me how much she loves me.  I don’t know if we would have had a conversation like that had we been living by each other all that time

Being far from family can feel almost wrong at times.  Thankfully we’re conquering that challenge by showing love for each other in different ways only necessary because we’re so far apart.

Deleting Pictures and Videos

THOUGHT AND FEELING DUMP:

What if I delete something I shouldn’t have?

Then the memory will be lost forever, right?

It means that whatever we did or showed or learned or discovered in that video is lost, right?

Sarah won’t remember it right? She won’t have a clear or accurate or positive memory of her childhood?

Good parents take good pictures and make them easily accessible to their kids for the rest of their lives.

I won’t have evidence that I was a good parent if I delete these videos.

I am afraid of deleting anything.

I will be so sad.

I will be depressed.

People are counting on me to show them pictures and videos of our lives and if I can’t then I am not doing a good job as a daughter, mother, daughter-in-law, granddaughter or wife.

Michael will be upset if I delete something he wished I didn’t.

If I don’t delete them they will crash my computer eventually and I’ll lose everything.

I can’t make decisions.

I’m too indecisive.

I’m too sensitive.

I’m too sentimental.

Pictures are just things… but they mean so much! They show joy and love and happiness and family and relationships and the beauty and wonder of my children and their experiences.

AFFIRMATIONS:

I will keep pictures that have meaning, impact and are clear and can be enjoyed by everyone.

I will do a little bit every day.

I will clean up my computer and then back it all up so my photos and documents will be preserved.

If I were to lose everything tomorrow, all of my pictures, I would still be a good mom.  I would still be a good daughter.  I would still be a good daughter-in-law.  I would still be a good wife.  My kids, parents, in-laws and husband would all still love me very much.

I can delete a picture I like if there is a similar picture that shows a similar time period that's of better quality and can be enjoyed by many.

My Life Right Now

Sitting at the dinner table with two quiet girls only making sounds of "mmm" and chewing with the soft twilight coming in through the plants of our kitchen window box I find myself smiling and watching everything around me, wanting to remember how utterly perfect my experience as their mom is.  Sarah looks at me and smiles and Mia slightly gags because she's still learning how to eat solids.  My belly is full of leftover spaghetti and meatballs and yummy brussels spouts my hubby steamed earlier today.  Sandy waits under the table for anything that falls and gets lucky when Mia offers her her sweet yellow pepper she's been half-gnawing on and half consuming.

A mother's day is very routine and can be mundane but because of the nature of children, it's also very different from day to day.  I hope to appreciate the peaceful times like the one I just described and pray I can stay strong, calm and faithful when I'm tested to my limits by my little girls.

I'll tell you what I did today, to give you an idea of my world but mostly so I can look back and feel a bit of the joy I felt today.

I wake up to Sarah usually, we snuggle and I sound like a broken record reminding her to stay quiet because her little sister is still sleeping.

Michael gets up to make Sarah breakfast because I was up 4 times during the night and need the extra rest.  Sarah goes to play in her room and ends up singing one of her random lyrical songs just loud enough to wake Mia up.  Am I mad? Not really, I don't want to demand silence and I love how much she loves to sing.

We get Sarah off to preschool- Michael drives her when he's home in the mornings- and I race to get myself and Mia ready for my YMCA exercise. This morning it's Spin Class and I'm mentally preparing myself to get beat down as I throw on workout clothes and jump in the car. Spin delivers and I am red-faced and pooped but filled with more happiness and confidence.

It's kind of a weird schedule we follow when Michael's on nights, like he was today.  Since we won't have time together at night I try and relax with him in the morning, watch a show and joke around a little.  And because I won't have his help that evening I try and take a nap while Mia naps.

I nap too well and snooze my alarm too many times, and end up running to the front room in my underwear with sleepy eyes to ask Michael if he can get Sarah from preschool. He looks at the clock, stands up to go and kindly asks if I had a nice nap on his way out.  I jump back into the warm covers until Mia wakes up minutes later ready to nurse.

The time from when Sarah gets home from preschool until bedtime is a mix up of trampoline playing, sitting in the grass with sunlight coming through pink cherry blossoms, raiding the kitchen for snacks, cleaning, patty-cake, a walk around the neighborhood, swinging and then, finally, dinner.

And so we come to that moment I remember how blessed I am to be here. To be Sarah's mother.  To be Mia's mother.  To adore mothering, nesting, home-making, serving and creating enough that all the dirty dishes and stinky diapers really just become afterthoughts when I recount my day.

Next I'm lying in bed snuggling Sarah and singing the three songs she requests every night, Rock-a-Bye Baby, Twinkle Twinkle and my choice of a "church" song.  Our foreheads are pressed together as she's fading to sleep and I can't get close enough to her.  Her little breath reaches my face and I kiss her nose, her forehead, her cheeks and her eyebrows.  She tells me I can only kiss her 3 more times and I do but accidentally kiss her a fourth.  When I apologize she giggles and says "That's OK, Mom."

Another little one is waiting in my room to be nursed, changed and read to before bedtime.

We grow closer together through our ritualistic evenings.  She knows that after books are read and lights are out that I will snuggle her and sing to her the same song I do every night before gently placing her in her crib.  I want to hold her until she's asleep, just to have more time with her as she sleeps peacefully, but I don't so that she learns to sleep on her own.

And now that I have time to myself I'm compelled to write the details of such a beautiful day in the life of me... as a mother. 

He Said "Lower Your Expectations"

A few weeks ago I experienced a very stressful week and felt down so many days in a row that I finally snapped and had somewhat of an anxiety attack.

Here are the feelings that pervaded my days leading up to my anxiety attack:

Stressed because my house wasn't clean.

Annoyed and at my wits end because of my daughter's whining.
 
Down because it was cloudy and cold.

Scared to have another baby and have even less time to do all the chores expected of me as a house-wife and stay-at-home mother.

Desperate to have time alone.

Mad at myself for not enjoying Sarah all the time.

Frustrated and confused about the money we spend on groceries every month.

Angry and helpless because I wasn't getting more help around the house.

Offended because people around me didn't do more to take care of me.

Fed up and hopeless because I needed so much help just to feel normal.

After I "snapped" I scheduled an appointment with my ever-so-helpful psychiatrist.  He gave me some great advice.  "Lower your expectations of what you can do in a day" he said.

Alright! I thought.  This was my ticket to sit on the couch, let the dishes sit in the sink and not worry about that baby shower I didn't want to go to anyways...

In a way his advice did lead me to do those things- to sit, let it be and not worry.  But really what it helped me to do was relax and let housework fall down the ladder of priorities where it belonged during this extremely precious time of Sarah's life and mine too- about to have another baby.  It made  me slow down and I discovered a few things that really surprised me:

1. I can be calm and relaxed and be on time.

2.  I can be happy when the dishes aren't done.

3.  Sarah's growth and learning can be my focus no matter the things left on my mental to-do list.

4.  There IS time for me to exercise and eat healthily and sleep enough.

5. I can actually accomplish EVERYTHING IMPORTANT happily, consciously and wholeheartedly when I slow down and lower my expectations of what I need to get done.

I did get some help, though.  We are now paying someone to clean for an hour or two every week.  She does way faster and better work than I do so the money we spend for her help has been well worth it.

Because I am more aware of mine and Sarah's needs, putting our health and growth before housework and other crap on my to-do list, I am better at remembering appointments, and more prompt to communicate/respond to friends about play-dates, etc.

We are ON TIME more often- this is one of the BEST things about slowing down for me since my tardiness was always something I felt really bad about. 

I'm still finding myself worrying about little things like the dirt on our shoes when we come in from playing/working outside or the fact that I have to teach Sarah some of the same things every day it seems... but I am aware of those thoughts and worries and consciously placing them in a folder BEHIND the kindness I show to myself and my family and strangers and the love and appreciation I have for them.

Here are some mantras I have come to live by because I lowered my expectations of what I "get done" in a day:




1. It's most important that Sarah knows that she is inherently good and that her worth is infinite and never changes no matter what happens to her or the choices she makes.




2. It's most important that I feel a deep love and respect for my husband.

3. It's most important that I respect and care for myself and... by golly... it's important that I really love who I am! The more I love myself the more energy I have to actually do good in this world!

I hope "lowering your expectations" might help some of you enjoy days of un-rushed snuggles with little people and times your heart might burst with love for your mate and quiet times of content emotions towards the person that you are right now.

Much love,
Minta
:)

We're buying a house

I've waited way too long to write this post.  At night words and sentences that flow into complete essays go through my mind and out my ears.  Here's what I've been thinking about.

Moving. We're moving into a house that we're buying.  We've never bought a house. While we looked for a house I felt like I was making the biggest decision of my life next to who to marry and I think that feeling was accurate.  We're in a contract now, and will close in a matter of days.  It's definitely a scary move, (accidental pun) but I've tried really hard to push out all fearful thoughts and remember the peace I felt throughout the process.  We prayed for direction and help for at least a month straight and there was a feeling of faith and patience in our home and in our relationship as we tried to live worthy of Heavenly Father's direction.

It's interesting... praying for help for something like this.  I know our decision to buy this house wasn't wrong and I feel like it was very likely was the best decision we could have made with our time and money right now but, that doesn't mean owning this house we'll be all cake and roses.  In fact, I know for sure it won't be.   It will be exciting and wonderful but at the same time stressful and overwhelming.   We'll be paying a small mortgage but expenses we never dreamed about will come up more than we planned for and more than we will like them to.

Still, I think it's good we're buying a house.  It's good financially and it's already been good for our marriage and family and personal growth.  We've learned to work together and lean on each others knowledge while researching and making decisions.  We have to put a great deal of trust in the other and in Heavenly Father.  It's uncomfortable which also tells me that it's good.  Discomfort can always bring growth and eventual increased comfort in the road we've taken as a family.

Another positive thing that has come of home-buying is the respect we've gained for my mom.  She is a killer realtor (you know what I mean) and has offered her expert opinion and advice along every step- because I've asked for it.  She has also been extremely respectful of our decision-making capabilities and left us to do what we feel is best in the end.  I knew her job was demanding and that she was good at it but, dang, it's cool to hear her go off about everything in all the real estate terms I'm finally coming to understand!  I love hearing her tell me how excited she is for us and that we've done such a good job throughout the whole process- that really means a lot to me!  Although I'll always need her more as my "mom", it's refreshing to connect with her on a level that is so familiar to her and on which she's used to only connecting with her peers.

Not only my mom but my siblings have been more than willing to help me when I need it also.  Rach, Den and Mike... you rock. Any time I call they're happy to stop whatever they're doing to advise me or answer any questions.  They really are all incredible people and so kind to me.

Well, that will do for today. Maybe my mind won't be so busy creating essays for the air tonight because I actually got this one out in writing.

Have you bought a house or made a huge decision like this that brought you closer to Heavenly Father and your family?  I'm so happy to hear your stories.

A Comparison of our jobs... not to compare.

Right now I'm a stay-at-home mom. 

Can I compare my job to my husbands? 

Right now he is a pilot trainee for the Air Force.

Can he compare his job to mine?

Is something important because it's hard to do or is it hard to do because it's important? Or can it be easy even though it's important, even the most important.

Does a regulated schedule make something more difficult?

Does regular grading make a job more stressful?

Could I say I am graded regularly because I judge myself and my performance constantly and expect better every day?

Couldn't we both just respect each others' jobs and be satisfied?

How do we show respect for each others' responsibilities?

When I make breakfast, lunch and dinner sometimes in one day for my hubs, help him find numerous possessions he has temporarily lost, clean the dishes he dirtied, clean the toilet we both use, and do everything I can to raise the daughter we both had a hand in bringing to the world... I feel like I'm supporting him.

But how can he support me? 

When he's so busy working, preparing, studying, fixing. 

What do I, what can I, expect of him?

This is a mystery and a balancing act of expectations and understanding I hope to crack and conquer soon...

Before I go crazy.


Note: my husband is kind, considerate and respectful... we're just normal and this post is about working some kinks out that I want to work out.

What I Learned on Harkers Island About My Grandpa & My Family

Written From the Porch of my 2nd cousin's, the Morrises, Home in Straights...

Right over the bridge from Harkers Island, North Carolina.

June 2013

A sweet time of overwhelming love and joy.

In the church Relief Society room I sat and felt at home, 

a temple-like setting with many who came before me that are still on this side of the veil.

They knew and loved my Grandpa.

The man that treated me like I was his only grandchild although he had many,

Even in the middle of his workday.

“Minta Jones, I love your bones!” he said as he squatted down with his arms out for me to run into.

He looked so much like my dad, only with black glasses, more gray and white hairs, a bit tougher skin and a few more wrinkles.

He died here, on Harkers Island, in ‘94, when I was 9 years old.

Since then he’s been the man I love to hear stories about.

On the car ride home from Harkers Island to Straights, Joella, my dad's cousin, kindly related some of her memories of him. 

She said that when he visited the island his eyes would light up as he talked about his grandkids that were back in Seattle.

Most everyone stayed on the island, actually. 

Grandpa was the daring exception who transplanted himself creating roots and a legacy in the West.  My dad says it was the missionaries who baptized him Mormon that convinced him to go to BYU and marry a Mormon girl.  

Joella went on and said she could tell us grandkids were the apple of his eye and his pride and joy.  To hear those words from someone I look up to and that remembers him well meant so much me.  To hear her talk about him with a vivid memory and get a first-hand witness of his love for me- for us- was touching and I had to hide my emotions.

Then, she told me about that day.

That horrible day when Grandpa's earthly life came to a sudden end, leaving many behind.

People all over the island could hear the explosion, she said.  Traffic stopped for the ambulance and the name on the truck confirmed her fear.  Someone else was driving Grandpa’s car behind the ambulance.  What had happened, they thought?

One tragic accident after another here, it doesn’t seem fair.

Many years before this my grandpa's little brother, who my dad was named after, died of Leukemia at age 8.  Dad says his Grandpa was never the same afterwards, so sad about losing his boy he became even quieter.

Then, following my Grandpa's accident, Uncle Mike died in a car accident. My dad says that his Uncle Mike was shy, an artist, a fisherman, and so good with his hands he used them to make boats.  He loved his grandchildren so much that even though they were little boys, when he opened his boat-making company he named it Hancock & Grandson's.  My dad's pretty sure those grandson's run it now.  My dad also says that when his Uncle Mike hugged and kissed him, it felt like his own dad.  I realized it's the same with my Uncle Mike for me.

Then Grandma died in a car accident.  My dad loved his Grandma and felt so much affection from her. "My Deeny, my leetle Deeny," he can remember her saying, and, "You are the prettiest little thing ever in this world." It's funny how that affection and praise carries on because I don't think a day passed growing up that my dad didn't say he loved me and that I was "as cute as a bug in a rug" which now I clearly understand is a compliment. :)

Shortly after Grandma Margarette's death, Grandpa Charlie Hancock passed and everyone's almost positive he died of a broken heart.

The day my Grandpa died I felt it too, thousands of miles away.  

I felt the explosion, the rush of fear and confusion, the deep sadness.  

Minta, my aunt, was crying at the table and my dad yelled and collapsed in the other room. 

I couldn’t stop crying for days.

That sadness stayed with me until he came to me in a dream.  With all of his grand-kids on his lap at once he looked down at me and said, “Minta, I want you to know that I love you and that I’m OK.”  I could go to school now and not cry in class.  The dream was meant to comfort me and anyone else who believed.

Those faces were his.

Sister, June, Bill.  They carried his skin, his face shape, his nose, his hair color, his blood.

Why do some go so early?  

Only for the ones that loved them to get tired, wrinkled, grey-white and more sad about being left behind.

“It should have been me.” “Why wasn’t it me that died?”

Oh, the comfort that is waiting for those that are left behind, comfort from the Master and author of all that is good and beautiful in their lives.

Oh, the sweet peace and rest that they deserve.

What will he be like when we see him again?  

Will he be close to our Heavenly father?  Will he want to bring us to him?

Will he want us to kneel with him before our Elder Brother who has made possible the sweet reunion?

The water is sweet, warm and salty, the sand soft and heated.

The grass is thick and strong and the trees rise high above the houses.

What did he love about this island?

Is it the connectedness of all his neighbors? Or, maybe, the family names on so many road signs.  Part of it had to have been the boats that symbolized plentiful food and breezy rides. 

I bet it was the comforts of long-lost memories from drawled voices heavy as boat anchors to his heart.

He loved me, and he loved this island.

He left me pieces of him in all the people and places of Harkers Island.

But, he is in more than that.

I know that because he came to me in my dream and made it the last night I wet my pillow with tears because I missed him.

He loves me and I know he longs to be with me again.

He must long to be with all of us.

I’m so glad I know he’s already with many people that he loves… like his mom and dad, his brothers and many more that came before him.

Learning about him, his family and where he came from gives me deeper reason to follow their examples.

A few ways I can do that is to love and cling to family.  To tell Sarah, and all of my family, that I love them and why I do. 

If I hug tightly and wrestle on the floor with the little ones I’d be honoring their example. 

Family was number one to them all.  I hope to always have the same priorities.

They worked hard and always provided for each other.  They weathered storms of nature and of persecution like we can read about in Uncle Joel’s book.

I am because they were and I can be as great as they were if I keep learning about who they were and why they lived like they lived.

I’m so excited to see the faces of my family at our reunion in a couple weeks and know the same blood that runs through them runs through me and ran through our beloved Grandpa, his parents, siblings, and their children.

Family is a wonderful thing and this visit to Harkers Island only intensified my feelings towards the one I was sent to.

I ultimately thank my Father in Heaven, whose Spiritual DNA I believe carry, for putting me in the Hancock family and having such a beautiful plan with families at its center.

________________________________

A Little Background to the Essay

My almost 2 year-old, Sarah and I arrived to at New Bern, North Carolina Saturday evening and the Morris’ greeted us and drove us home to Straights.  The next day we went to church and then Joel and Susan’s for lunch and then to my Grandma Hancock’s home.

At church I was overwhelmed with love and gratitude- the Spirit of our Father in Heaven- during the Sacrament and Relief Society Meetings.  I have to thank the nursery, specifically Lauren Hancock (my second cousin-in-law) for watching my little one so I could go to Relief Society. In every face I felt a connection to my Grandpa Hancock whom I loved so strongly as a child.  I wanted to talk to each of them, hug them and hear about their lives and possibly memories that have of my Grandpa.  I did get to hug and speak with some of them and I’m so grateful for the opportunity I had to feel so connected to my Hancock side.  The feelings I experienced in the Harkers Island Ward building were comparable to what I experience in the temple- love, joy, faith, strength and hope.  I believe that is because I was touched by the Spirit of Elijah.  My heart was turned to my fathers (to my father’s father to be specific) and I think his heart and that of his family in that ward were turned to me, his grand-child.  For those reading this that aren’t familiar with our faith or temples, that Spirit of Elijah is the same Spirit that resides in our temples because of the nature of the work we do there.  We connect ourselves forever to our ancestors and our descendants.

Here’s what I wrote the Monday following that Special Sabbath I was blessed to enjoy mid June on Harkers Island, North Carolina.

_________________________________

Another Important Note of Thanks

The Morris Family, James and Joella and their 4 wonderful kids, were so incredibly welcoming and treated us so much like family.  Yes, I know, we are family.  But, we're second cousins and we rarely see each other so some might say that's just an excuse for a free place to stay.  Well, let me tell you I have vivid memories of meeting each of my second cousins when I was little and idolizing them ever since.  They were good-looking, fun, family and lived in a cool place where my Grandpa once lived.  

Now, more than 20 years later and with a child of my own, it was so relieving to feel at home there and that is all thanks to the Morris family. 

Joel and Susan also welcomed us and fed us whenever we could go by, and I sincerely appreciated that, also.

I can't tell you how much it meant for me to feel welcomed and loved by you, thank you so much!

The Light Inside

THE LIGHT INSIDE

I walk outside and the sun hurts my eyes.  I have to walk to the mailbox with them half closed but my head still hurts from the bright pavement I look down on.

My apple tastes cool and I’m grateful for the natural sugars it gives my blood.  Why  am I down?

Would the sun not be so bright if I were lighter inside?

How come it takes me so long to walk outside?

A pool a walk away.

A TV mounted to the wall.

Food in our pantry and friends on the screen.

That’s what this is... a dimmer.

Light pushes, slams, forces its way into my body and the darkness is overwhelmed.  

I wish it lasted,

A relationship that I can touch means almost nothing but those that are out of reach I long to be touching.

Is this his biggest trick in the book, make good things seem empty?

Because when I feel like this it’s the bad things that I want to do so I can be full- eat, watch, read, skim, stalk, envy, wish, self-hate, embarrassed, sad.

Am I giving life to death when I write the truth or would it be more dangerous to cover the pain with dishes, laundry, fake smiles and empty words.

It’s crazy. The things that keep me alive are all things I can’t even see. Well, one of them I can.

She is here because of me and the man I chose.

She helps me forget the darkness I dread will return.

Her needs come first and my selfishness drowns in her bubble bath.

I can work, smile and laugh sincerely when she’s around.

But, it doesn’t seem right.  To put my whole life in her hands.  I must be able to face this world and on my own two feet stand.

I’m grateful for the reprieve but I promise- for her, him and mostly for me- to use my time to find the ground and welcome the bright pavement more and more.

And, someday I know that when I walk outside my head won’t hurt from squinting because the brightness will match the light inside of me.

Addicted to Social Media Approval

I think I'm losing my identity because of my addiction to social media approval.

What is this obsession, verging on addiction, I have of “likes” and “comments”?  

I love to share my thoughts, experiences, pictures, beliefs but have I become so diseased that unless the number on the bottom of the box is big I begin to think that what I’ve shared is not as valuable?

Is this one of the reasons why people leave Facebook?

Should I leave Facebook, Instagram and the Blogosphere?

The addiction began with the first like.  Then I accepted more followers and expected more likes.  To my delight, they came.  Now, if I have over 20 likes, I know it was a good picture.

But, wait… that makes no sense.

It’s only a good picture when others like it?

There was a time I took pictures on Instagram only for myself, I had no followers.  I didn't even know I could have followers! Haha, I must have not looked that deeply into the name :).

I guess I just need to choose whether the pictures/status updates/blog entries I create are for me or my followers and then accept the plenty or more common lack of "likes" and comments if that's their purpose.  But, it has been difficult for me lately to distinguish between something done for me or for others because I personally get so much when others like and respond to what I've written or captured!

There’s a physical rush I feel when I see people have “liked” my status or my photo or commented on my blog.  That rush spills over to my mind and I feel almost invincible.  I start to think that all of my ideas are amazing and I am really an important person.  It is a literal high.  These highs become addictive.

 Do I need that approval, that high, to feel good about who I am?

Has it come to that?!  To place my worth in the hands of my Facebook friends and Instagram/Blog followers?

But who can blame me?  I should have seen it coming.

One of my long-time blogger crushes, Taza, has 150,000 followers on Instagram and receives an average of 8,000 "likes" on her pictures. Can you believe that? I guess I can, considering the popularity of her blog, the perfection of her and her children’s wardrobe, the wonder of her photography, the seemingly picture-perfect marriage she depicts and the attention she has consequently received in many other forms of media.

Is she my measure of success?  I think subliminally it has come to that.   I read her blog every day for a few minutes and feel better when I do.  Why?  Personally I think it’s because I have successfully escaped my world and all the imperfections I am I all too familiar with and entered someone else’s perfect world.  We have enough in common that I feel I’ve almost adopted her life sometimes.  She’s a dancer, she loves music, she loves her children, she’s Mormon, and she loves food. So… we’re pretty much the same person, right?

No, that’s not right.

Maybe that’s it.  Maybe following blogs and worrying about social media approval has aided in the slow and sad process of me losing my identity.

What did I gauge my success against before? 

Ideally my success as a human being is measured only against my potential and myself. 

I think that when I let my mind and time be caught up in the lives of others I naturally compare my own to theirs.

Maybe it is a time for a social media break.

Why does that scare me?

Because I know how badly I’ll miss the approval I glean from both outlets.

If I were my own best friend I would tell myself this:

Minta, I love you.  You are so beautiful.  You shine.  When you know who you are and cling to that, you bring so much light and love to everyone you meet.  Your greatest potential will be reached when you let go of outside approval and jump with both feet into a life of faith in the Creator and service to His children.  You know that you’ve been happiest when you live your life like that. 

Remember those 18 months you spent on a mission.  You had never heard of Facebook or Instagram, you didn’t text, you didn’t check your email but once a week.  You didn’t even talk to the ones you loved most very often.  What you did was make plans to help people in your area know their own potential and worked all day to follow those plans.  You loved everyone around you and you didn’t easily take offense.  You wiped away tears of frustration and weariness in order to help families understand that they could be together forever.

No, your life can never be like that again.  That time was an incredible privilege of yours.  Emails, texts, calls are now a necessary part of the interacting and planning in your daily life.  You now get to talk to your family whenever you want.  And, although you are no longer required to plan every 30-minute increment of your 15-hour day, you have responsibilities that are just as important and require just as much dedication and sometimes planning.

You’re a mother.  That is the most important accomplishment you could hope for.  Not just to have a child, but to then live well in order to be a good example.  Your time is well spent when it’s spent helping your child learn and develop.  Every time you sing the ABC’s to, dance with, or teach your child how to work you’re making another divot in the mold that will become that child’s being.  You and your husband are responsible for instilling confidence, love, forgiveness, obedience, faithfulness, gratitude in your child’s self.  But don’t worry, like I said before, it’s in the small things that you already do every day that will help you achieve this! You’re on your way to becoming the mother you’ve dreamed of being. 

So, don’t worry what other people think.  There will come a day that your own daughter, whom you’ve given so many days to love and rear, will reject you and go against what you’ve taught.  Even then, your worth will not change.

Even then you’re an eternally worthwhile soul that has come to this earth with a purpose and done all you can to fulfill it.  You can be happy to know that the only acceptance and approval that will matter in the end is yours.  You will be your final judge.  Please remember that.

Can I do this?  Could I stop social media for a week? A month?  Would it be good for me?  What do you think?