I am scured.

Yes, I am scured.
It's how we say scared in my family. Somehow, sometime it got started by a toddler saying the word wrong, and it hasn't stopped.
Anyways, I am scured.

Because soon everything is going to change, and I don't know what to expect. I am not scured for labor and delivery. I actually love that part (or I guess more specifically the part at the end when you see your sweet babe for the first time). I am scured by what comes after. 

The part where I have 3 littles and we are outnumbered. 

The part where I am a sleep deprived ghost

The part where I don't have enough time to spend with each child like I want

The part where I don't go out in public very often (it's still flu season here with a whooping cough outbreak. Not risking anything)

The part where I live in my yoga pants

The part where our living space stays a disaster

Mostly the part I don't know about.

I don't know what it will be like to have 3 kids and your oldest just turned 3 last month. 

It's the unknown that has me shaking in my boots the most.

All of the aboves are so worth it to bring new life into the world. I love being a mom and wife more than anything else in the world. But no one can lie and tell me that the first couple weeks when a baby comes is not quite...interesting. Because I know it would be a lie if someone said that to me. Having your kids close together, you remember what that is like. Because it happened recently. 

I feel like already my 2 littles take up so much time and effort there isn't much left over. So thinking of adding another sweet spirit to that, makes me scured. Of course, when I think about it rationally, I realize it won't be as hard as it is now because I will (for the most part) have my body back and every step won't hurt and I will be able to keep up with them like I used to. That makes me feel better about everything. Like I said before, I love pregnancy. But by the end, the thought of not having excruciating pain makes me giddy. 

I have 10 days left until the big day. Or less. (I had my 38 1/2 week appointment today and I am dilated to 2 almost 3 cm and 70% effaced. She is so low that as the doctor was checking me, she bumped her head and baby girl jumped so hard)

In 10 days, it will all be a reality. 

My bags are packed, her bed is all ready, her clothes are all washed and ready, her new carseat/stroller came today, I have all my post-delivery needs bought (witch hazel is my beeeeest friend), everything is clean and organized, my nails are painted, maternity pictures already taken...we are ready. 

Brielle riding the belly like a pro 

Hopefully she is ready to come soon, because even though I am scured, 

I am so excited to fall in love again.

Liam and I love to sit and feel her dance around

p.s. O and if anyone has ANY advice about having 3 kids close together, I am willing and ready for any kind of advice! Bring it on ladies :)

"Name them 1 by 1"

I have so many posts running through my head, willing to be written. But yet everyday that I finally have time to write, I am too tired to stay awake, let alone construct a sentence that remotely makes sense. It must be the human I am making. But I just don't want some of the little things to pass for too long, or else they will be forgotten. That is the point of this blog: recording all the little things my kids do through their childhood so I never forget.

So bear with me, and because I am too tired to do much else, I am going to stick with lists. That's doable. (is that even a real word??) 

***

This morning I woke up with a smile. And my heart fluttered with gratitude.

Not 5 minutes into my day and already I felt overwhelmed.

But not with stress, with joy.

As my little man snuggled up to me in my bed after waking up and proceeded to kiss my face while I dozed,

the list started flowing.

My 2.9 beautiful kids

1 healthy, sweet, loving, intense little boy

1 healthy, funny, independent, sweet, girly little girl

The healthy, growing and active little girl bumping around my belly

The man to my left who is my world.

My best friend, the one I look up to more than anyone, the love of my life.

Our bright, exciting future

Wonderful, supportive family members

A sure knowledge of Christ and his gospel

All of the monetary blessings we have had in our lives

This wonderful time of calm

That I am almost done, and soon the empty bassinet by our bed will hold a cuddly newborn (SQUEAL!)

O and our bed is so comfy and soothes my achy pregnant body so well

My kids are starting to really interact, play and love each other. 

Our clean, organized room (which lasted all of 30 minutes that morning)

This time of year is so beautiful, all the green life appearing and birds singing

...

So I laid in bed,

still

for the first few minutes of the day 

and named "them 1 by 1".

As the list grew, and I realized, truly how blessed my life is

how truly the Lord's hand is in my life

and how I have so much to be grateful for

Not just the big, but the small as well

I couldn't help but smile and offer a prayer of gratitude.

Because no matter what,

Even if it might not seem that way,

and the things on our list are small or the list itself is small,

there is (truly) always something to be thankful for.

So with that in mind, take a minute

be still

and start counting.

Ultimate puddle jumping. I think this was the highlight of her 18 month life.
She was squealing with joy the entire time!

Liam kissing baby girl...he already loves her SO MUCH!

"I dead him"

As I am sure I have said many-a-time before, Liam loves loves loves to be outside.

He would be out there constantly if he had his way.

The other day we were outside and he was playing with ants.

Not thinking anything of it I didn't pay much attention. Off in my own world. Then he came to me with a squished ant on his finger. 

And following that little act came a quick conversation that warped a view I have on a natural life phenomenon which has always...daunted me.

L: Look mom, I dead him

M: O Liam, why did you squish the ant?

L: Because ant missed his mommy and daddy

Watching brother poke ants

I will be honest. At first I was a tad bit disturbed. And then it dawned on me. For Liam's first birthday, we bought him two (cheap Walmart) fish who, not surprisingly, brought much joy and happiness to the little man for about a week. I woke up one morning and found them inevitably floating at the top of their bowl. Soon after I disposed of the fish (gosh that is a nasty job) but before I had a chance of thinking of a way to explain to Liam what happened to his fish, he saw his bowl was empty and the fish gone. He right away asked where they had gone and I had to come up with the reason they were gone, on the spot. My response to my 2-year-old who wouldn't understand the complexities of death: "They just went home to their mommy and daddy." And with that, he understood and no tears were shed. In his 2-year-old mind, he understood missing his Mommy and Daddy and that returning to them was a good thing.

So fast forward back to the other day about 6 months after that fish incident. Since his birthday we have talked to him about death when other pets or animals died and he has a very infantile understanding of it. So when he saw the ants and squished them, in his little boy mind he was doing a very compassionate deed by returning them to their mommy and daddy, because they missed them.

 I just have to say I have the most compassionate, loving and kind little two year old boy. 

Anyways, I diverge. 

 I have been thinking about this a lot lately. Liam doesn't understand all the complexities that are associated with death, but he has such a grasp on the subject that is in ways more profound than most adults. Isn't death (how I believe it) just returning to your Mommy and Daddy (albeit the spiritual ones) who we miss so much? Honestly and personally, death does terrify me. Not dying, but having those I love and need in my life die. But as I looked at the normal phenomenon we cannot escape, in this infantile and more simple way, I realized that it is not a horrible thing, but a merciful thing; returning us back to our loving heavenly parents that we miss. 

So thinking of death that way, whether it's thinking about (totally hypothetically of course, we are totally healthy and fine haha) about me or a loved one passing on to the next world, it helps to shed a new light on the inevitable. Not a dark, scary, lonely one, but a merciful, happy and lovingly-reuniting view. 

Sometimes looking at lives complexities through the eyes of a child can make it so much more simple, beautiful and right.

Things I am afraid to tell you.

In an effort to burst the whole "everything is perfect" bubble that is created at times through blogs, some blog writers have been confessing aspects of themselves that are less than...perfect. Confessing things about themselves that are real. I love learning all aspects of others, and thought I would join in on the fun. So here are a couple things that I am afraid to tell you (in no particular order).

#1 I am pretty certain that I have a mild case of OCD. I have never had an official diagnosis's, but I am pretty certain that I do. Most times I can control it and work through it, but when I am tired or overwhelmed/stressed it's much harder to control it. My "OCD" flares around messes and dirty things. I sympathize with Sherlock Holmes when he said in the second movie "my curse is that I see everything" (or something a long those lines). When I am tired or stressed, it takes all the control I have not to clean for hours until I can't see any more dirt or imperfection. Honestly, when it's really bad and I don't do a good job controlling it, I can have mild panic attacks. It can be nice though because my house is clean most of the time. When I say that I thrive when it is clean, this is what I am talking about. This is why Richard and I spend at least 30 (more like 60) minutes totally cleaning the house every night after the kids go to bed. I just thrive in cleanliness. 

#2 I have a bad guilt complex. Not just healthy guilt over things that it is warranted by, but unhealthy things. I feel serious guilt when I take time for myself, when I do things that make me feel like not a "perfect" mom (like letting them eat Cheetos etc), not doing everything for someone else even though it is really inconvenient for me, when the house isn't always immaculate etc. I have to either talk to someone else (who is usually my rock in life aka: Richard) or talk myself through things so I don't feel guilty for ridiculous things.

#3 I had an eating disorder in high school. My sophmore year of high school I had a mild form of Anorexia. I just skipped most meals and when I did eat, it was a tiny little meal (just enough to get by). I did it as a way to have control over my body and (this is embarrassing) fit in. I was part of the "popular" group (haha sounds so ridiculous now) and all my friends were doing the same thing. Luckily my wonderful parents started noticing that I was always "too busy" or gone for breakfast and dinner. They made a house rule that I had to come to dinner and eat, and we eventually discussed my problem and fixed it. If I hadn't had such involved parents, I am not sure when it would have ended or how bad it would have gotten...BUT it turned to be a good thing. After I was able to get over my problem and face it, I had a huge fire of interest sparked. I decided that I wanted to become a counselor for girls with eating disorders which is why I got my degree in Psychology. I actually have put many years towards research in this field (helping girls with eating disorders) and have a lot of theories that could change the way professionals try to "fix" it. Maybe one day after the kids grow up, I can focus again on my passion regarding helping girls with eating disorders.

#4 I am feisty and have an attitude. I attribute it to a strong Irish heritage, but whatever it is, I have an opinion on pretty much every subject and a strong one at that. Luckily though I am very socially aware of things that I shouldn't say, so I am (usually) not "in your face" about my opinions. I just definitely have them. my feistiness and attitude was the biggest problem I had in high school and was definitely a source of grief for my parents :) Sorry guys...I still get really feisty and "wound-up" pretty easy. But luckily it doesn't stay that way for long. But I do have to control it.

#5 I am a serious people pleaser and I hate confrontation. So even though I have strong opinions, I am willing to change my ideas or not say anything about them just for the sake of peace. Sometimes I get walked on by others that don't care about peace because I am such a people pleaser though. So it can be bad. And sometimes I don't say things that should be said because I hate confrontation so much. 

#6 I get really angry if anyone says or thinks anything bad or rude about any member of my family. Mess with my family and "mama bear" comes out in full force and then I don't care about peace or my fear of confrontation anymore. That is when I have to enact a lot of self control not to say mean mean things...

#7 I hardly ever cry, but I get chocked up and get emotional over silly, ridiculous things. Especially if "mood" music is involved. I am very very impacted by music and so I feel things in movies and situations really strongly which makes me get chocked up a lot. And even in slightly positively emotionally charged situations in normal life, I have to fight back the ball in my throat. Like think pregnancy: constantly. It's embarrassing.

#8 I don't like odd numbers, which is why I had to write an eighth thing! Couldn't leave it at 7 :) This is why I want 4 kids instead of 3 or 6 kids instead of 5! So anyways, number 8? I have a hard time living in the now and not looking forward to a later date and saying "I will be happy when _______ in the future". This is actually a huge reason I blog so much, because then I see through writing that I have a lot of wonderful things going on in my life and I don't need to look forward to the future for my "complete" happiness. Like right now, I have a hard time not thinking: "I will be so much happier and life will be easier when we move out of our tiny apartment to a place with a fence backyard...." Don't get me wrong. I am totally happy. But I have a weakness of thinking that everything will be perfect and easier when something happens like the semester ends, we move, when he's a doctor, when our kids are older/independent, when we aren't students etc. 

P.S. that is not a cold sore on my lips, but finger prints on the mirror :)

So now it's your turn:

What are some things you are afraid to tell people??

If you decide to do this, send me a link to your post because I would love to read what you come up with!

Scars and love

I have always loved that Mothers day is celebrated on Sunday.

In my mind, it always is a powerful way to show how motherhood is such a special, spiritual calling in life.

This Mothers day in particular a thought keeps running through my head, a different spin on Motherhood that came from thinking about this calling in a more spiritual way. Bare with me as I try to explain it.

Before I became a mother 27 months ago, it was hard for me to truly understand an aspect of the character of my Savior. I had a very real relationship with Him, but there were characteristics of him that I knew he had, but couldn't truly wrap my head around. Like his unconditional love for everyone. Even those who hurt, killed and persecuted him. It was just more than I could imagine and understand. He sacrificed his life for those who were the ones who killed him. He saved those who mocked him, persecuted and caused him great pain. He loved them. Unconditionally. And he loves those that today do the same things but in different ways. Unconditionally. 

And me. Such a weak mortal. He sacrificed his life for me so that I can be saved, because of his unconditional love. That love that he has for me and all of mankind, no matter their flaws and weaknesses, has always been overwhelming and I have had very sacred experiences where I have tangibly felt that love that he has for me and it overwhelmed my soul.

Fast forward to the moment I first saw my dear son. My firstborn. 

Within moments of his birth, I was overwhelmed with a love I never knew was possible.

When they laid him on my chest and I saw his face for the first time, I was able to glimpse the love my Savior has for me.

It took on levels and amounts I never knew my mortal heart was capable of.

And then 18 months later when I saw my dear daughters face for the first time, my heart and it's capability to love increased by 2, and I once again experienced an amount and intensity of love I never knew was possible.

Before I had children 

I always had a flat tummy,

No dark circles under my eyes,

No stretch marks

Stomach muscles that made that flat tummy rock hard.

Perfectly done hair and make-up.

Now.

Never a perfectly flat tummy 

Always dark circles under my eyes

Stretch marks 

Lose skin on my tummy

No stomach muscles

And hair and make-up done sometimes.

But as I look down at my not perfect body, I see perfection that wasn't there before.

Just as the Savior has marks on his hands and feet from his sacrifice of love, I have marks on my body from the sacrifice of my love for my children. I sacrificed my body in so many ways, real ways, for my babies to be born. I have many physical scars that I have to remind me and my children of the ultimate love I have for them. My scars and marks may make my body different, but it shows to me the love I have for my children, just as the marks on the Saviors hands and feet shows to me the love he has for me.

And the non-physical marks. They are also signs of the unconditional love I have for my children. My constant exhaustion, the worry I have for them that they will be ok, the sacrifice of all free time etc. etc. They are also signs that I love unconditionally. 

That I am starting to grasp, in a very mortal way, the overwhelming love my Savior has for me and all humanity.

I have always known that the creation of the family (no matter the size) is a representation of the unit of heaven and a way for our Heavenly Father to show to us how much he loves us. Before I was married, I loved my family so much, and it gave me a small glimpse of how much my Heavenly Father loves me. 

As I felt the love from and for my parents, it put a new light on the love of my Heavenly Father.

As I felt the love from and for my siblings, it put a new light on the love of my Savior.

As I felt the love from and for my husband, it put a new light on the love of the eternities.

As I felt the love from and for my children, it once again put a new light on the love my Heavenly Father has for me as his special daughter.

Families. Motherhood. Being a wife.

It is all a way for us to grasp the unconditional love from our Savior and Heavenly Father.

And with my signs, my marks, my scars from being a mother,

The unconditional love from my Savior starts to make sense. I sacrificed my body for my children, because I love them. As a mother not only do I start to grasp the unconditional love the Savior has for us, but also the atonement and how broken things (think my body) can be made perfect and beautiful through the love of my Savior. Through love. The completely overwhelming and all encompassing love I feel for my children makes my scarred body beautiful. And the completely overwhelming and all encompassing love our Savior feels for us makes our scarred lives beautiful and perfect. 

And everyday I thank my Savior for the opportunity to have my sweet children.

And the opportunity to be a part of a family. To feel the overwhelming love as not only a mother, but as a wife, daughter and sister.

I have learned a lot as a mother.

But I would say the biggest thing I have learned, is about the unconditional love that my Savior has for me as I feel the same unconditional love for my children. 

The crazed look on my kids faces are from extreme exhaustion. Church being right at naptime does that to those kiddos

A horrible horrible dream.

Early this morning, I had a horrible horrible dream.

The first dream that was so bad, I actually had to wake myself up because it was just too much to handle.

I haven't been able to shake the horrible feeling off all day, but it has made me so grateful that it wasn't real life. So I thought writing it down would help me shake that horrible feeling.

In my dream, we had 3 kids: Liam, Brielle and a newborn baby girl (no, I am not pregnant. Unless somehow there was a hole in our birth control, there is no chance. sorry TMI...). I was sitting in sacrament meeting (a meeting in the LDS church) with Richard, and Liam was sitting next to us with some of my siblings. I knew that Brielle and our newborn baby girl were being watched by someone we knew and loved (luckily I can't remember now who it was...), but I decided to check on them just to make sure they were ok. I went to the person to find out that they had lost them. They had no idea where they were. The most terrifying thoughts came rushing through my head as I was running through the church building trying to find them. I was freaking out trying to find my dear, sweet girls, enlisting everyone I could to find them. Finally, my husband brought the bishop to me to tell me that they had searched everywhere in the building and around the building, and they were gone. That I needed to give up looking for them, because they were never going to be found. I collapsed to the ground in agony, screaming, crying and hyperventilating. And that was when I used all of my mental strength to wake myself up, because I couldn't handle the emotional pain anymore. It was so real and so traumatizing that I couldn't go back to sleep. 

All day I have hugged my babies longer, given them more kisses, been more patient, forgiving and loving. Because I am so glad that that dream wasn't my reality. That my babies were safely sleeping in warm, comfy beds rather than lost. And more than that, I am glad that even if my worst nightmare was actually reality, I know we have been sealed together for eternity and this life isn't the end.

 sorry for 2 similar pictures...I couldn't decide which one I liked better :)

My precious babies.

They are everything to me.

And I am so glad that I know, they will never truly be lost because we are a 

forever family.

Other than having a bad dream, today has been a good productive day! I have gotten A LOT done on my to-do list today and I am starting to climb out of the hole I talked about here. Not only am I caught up, but I am ahead on my plan for what I wanted to get done this week. It feels nice to be able to report that :)

The poison of bliss

I had an interesting experience the other day that I feel like I should write down and post. Here ya go.

***

Some history first.

When Richard and I were first married I found a quote in his mission binder. I love president Gordon B. Hinckley and so I pulled it out and put it on our wall. It has been on our wall in some way or another since then. 

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just ordinary people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. . . .

--Gordon B. Hinckley 

(the rest of the awesome quote is at the bottom of the post)

Fast forward a while later.

We were driving on one of our many drives from ID to WA and drove through a town called "Bliss" in good old Idaho. I mentioned how cool it would be to live there. Richard quickly mentioned how much he hates that word. Taken aback I asked why. He mentioned that to him, bliss meant blind happiness. Unrealistic, blind happiness that wasn't real. Right then I started to re-evaluate my definition of "bliss". While the majority of the world see's it as a wonderful, supreme happiness, that meaning of the word for me has been challenged. 

Anyways, I diverge.

The other day I became utterly de-railed. I sat on the couch after the kids went to bed totally deflated. After spending literally every waking second of the day cleaning, cooking and picking up after kids, the house was an absolute wreck. In my deflated state, I started to talk to Richard about how frustrating it is to clean, clean, clean all day long to the point that you hurt, and it ends up just as messy. 

Some days it feels like I am in a hole trying to dig myself out, while dirt is being thrown back in. 

For those of you who don't have kids, I can't convey to you how time consuming it is to have kids.
For those of you who have 1 kid, I can't convey to you how time consuming it is to have 2+ kids.

For those of you who have 2+ kids, I can't coney to you how utterly time consuming it is to have 2 kids so close together.

And for those of you who have 2+ kids close together, I am sure you are nodding your head in agreement.

Anyways. In my self-pity party about how all the work I do seems for naught, Richard thankfully stopped my negative spiraling with these words:

"Sounds like you are suffering from the thought that bliss is normal"

Wait what?

It's not normal?

It's normal to have utter happiness, complete love and total satisfaction. But that does not come amid a perfect (like in the dictionary definition "entirely without any flaws, defects, or shortcomings"), fault free life. 

Happiness, satisfaction and parts of "bliss" are normal and good.

But when you find yourself saying "why cant _______ happen? That's NORMAL!" you are suffering from the poison of the expectation of bliss. We all have this warped idea that bliss or a perfect life is normal.

While I can say, first hand, that I have utter happiness, satisfaction etc. my life is not perfect. No one's is without some kind of flaw or hardship. We were not created to have a perfect existence without some sort of trial or problem, because we would never grow.

So what is the poison of bliss?

It's expecting that everything is supposed to be perfect. Flawless. easy.

When we have expectations that aren't met, we have frustration. Frustration that our live aren't perfect.

Coming from a huge perfectionist, it is hard to come to grips with this fact. That life isn't supposed to be perfect and always clean and organized. That is my frustration and therefore an un-real expectation.

This can apply to anyone in every aspect of life. Not just as a mother who has a hard time when her house isn't perfect (something I strive to get rid of).

So in all of my rambling, I am trying to say this. Bliss in the sense of realistic happiness...is normal and to be expected. Please seek it. But, I learned from my experience the other night, that bliss in the sense of the expectation of perfection is not healthy. It is a poison that will canker your heart and your life. When you expect utter perfection you will not see the beauty that comes when things aren't perfect (in the sense of flawless or without defects).

So as a perfectionist trying to reclaim my life, I have tried to let go of the thought of the unhealthy bliss that my husband was talking about all those years ago. And find my truly "perfect" as things in my life aren't as perfect as I want...

Like when I am cleaning the house for the 50th time that day

Or mopping the floor for the 3 time that week

Or up with one of the sick babies every hour during the night (they are both sick now...luckily Brielle not nearly as bad as Liam though)

Or when I have no free time for myself at all during the day

Or..... 

The quote that Gordon B. Hinckley gave in his talk sums it up the best:

"Life is like an old-time rail journey--delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

 The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."

So today I am thanking my Heavenly Father for my beautiful children and a loving husband. 

Because with them, my life is "perfect"

Liam wanted Brielle in his bed today after they woke up from their naps and they
played together so cute for like 45 minutes. They love each other so much.

Someday.

someday

I will have the green, red and silver Christmas tree that I dream of. Tall, full and covered in gorgeous decorations.

Add some red and this is the tree

But for now, we have a little 6 foot, sparse, pre-lit tree that doesn't have support feet or any decorations (both of which are shoved somewhere in our storage and it was too cold tonight to dig them out). But we set it up decoration-less tonight, and Liam loved it. He played with it until I dragged him away from it to go to bed. 

He just laid until the tree staring at the lights...

And then proceeded to give it tons of kisses.

We have a Christmas fan on our hands.

Luckily you don't need a big fancy tree and expensive decorations to feel the Christmas spirit. Because with out all of that, it officially feels like Christmas in our little home, even though for once in the 4 1/2 years we have lived here, there is no snow on the ground. Maybe soon it will truly feel like Christmas with several inches of snow on the ground.

But just like Richard said after we had it all set up, it really feels like the Christmas season. And it will really feel like Christmas once we dig out our dollar store tree decorations and stockings. O the life of a student ;) One day, I will have all the gorgeous Christmas decorations, but for now, I love my dollar store decorations.

Because that is what our Christmas memories with our little family is made of. 

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

A promise.

Well darlin's, I am going to be frank with you. You know I gotta be  honest and true to my readers. So here it is: recently, I was having a hard time. Not anything remotely serious, just stressed and a little frazzled. Blame it on post-baby hormone crazies, being up quite a lot at night nursing said baby or the transition from summer to winter (more on that later). But whatever it was, and maybe even a combo of all those things, I was pretty on edge. Stressed. Frazzled. I am sure my poor family was noticing this and feeling the consequences. So one night a couple days ago, when getting up multiple times with one or both of the kids (Liam is teething again...joy) was looming in my future, I got a little panicky. Then I finally let it out to my husband that I was having a hard time. And I didn't know what to do about it. So he started asking me questions:

R: "are you eating enough?"
M: "No. Sometimes I forget to eat at meals because I am feeding the kids"
R: "are you sleeping enough?"
M: "HA...no"
R: "are you getting any you time?"
M: "i wish"
R: "are you reading your scriptures?"
M: "...no..."

Then it clicked. I have a very specific promise in my patriarchal blessing that if I read my scriptures I will be greatly blessed. I realized with his probing questions I knew exactly why I was having a hard time. I wasn't doing something I have been specifically commanded to do because instead I am spending my time taking care of my kids. Great thing to do though right?! Good, Better, Best. I realized that what is better for my kids is not to have dinner exactly at 5:30 or the carpets vacuumed every day. It is a mother who takes time at least, to strengthen herself spiritually. It happened gradually and the craziness of adding another baby just blinded me so much that I forgot. It says in the scriptures to "always remember" and "remember remember" and yet I didn't. 

So after that very insightful convo with the hubby, we have made some changes. I need to make sure to take time to feed myself, read my scriptures without distraction (nap time is the perfect time) and I need some "me" time where I am not "mommy" but Kenna. Miraculously, the day after we decided this and I made a concerted effort to read my scriptures, Brielle started sleeping so much better. She has only been waking up once at night to eat, eats for 15 minutes and goes back to sleep. To my new mommy eyes, it's a miracle. A direct miracle from following the commandments of a loving Heavenly Father. And I have noticed that even when I am exhausted, my strength is spent and I have no patience from myself, I have an increase in all of the things I need to carry on. Strength, patience and love come from a source outside of myself and I am able to meet the demands of my 2 young children. That, to me, is a miracle.

I know that Heavenly Father has promised to help us in the righteous desires of our heart. One of my main righteous desires is to be the best mother I possibly can be. I have tried to do this on my own, and failed. I cannot do it on my own. I didn't purposely try to do it on my own, but by default and in the craziness of it all, forgot to rely on the One that I should. Now I know that if I do what I am commanded to do, then I will get help. My prayers will be answered in the perfect way. I will have guidance. And best of all, up held in the trying, stressful moments. That, to me, is a miracle.

"I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise."

--Doctrince and Covenants 82:10

Liam folding his arms and "kneeling" during our morning family prayer today. This boy LOVES to pray!!