Butterfly on the slopes

      Four days post Christmas crazy and I dropped off Jayce and his friend Logan for the day to Brianhead ski resort.  It's a short 30 minute drive so I headed home once they were settled so I could get things under control here. (See previous post christmas statement)  It was about 2 hours after I was home that I got a call from Jayce.  His bindings broke.  He was upset.  And would I please come up there and get them to come home?  He couldn't hear me very well, so I texted.  Dig deep buddy, you have a friend who can still enjoy the slopes.  Take a minute to yourself to pull your emotions together and reassess the situation.  Nothing.  He didn't text back.  An hour later, I texted again.  Hows it going?  Still sitting there, he said.  I suggested a few trouble shooters, but got nothing in reply.  

    As I bumble around my house getting things checked off my list, I realize there is a lump in my chest.  I check my phone every few minutes.  My rescuing bells are going off like crazy.  I should go up there early and sit with him.  I should call and pay over the phone for someone to fix his board.  I should rent a new board for him... I should...  What I should do is sit here and let him figure it out.  He's not in danger.  He's not hurt.   So here I sit.  Getting my restless energy out in words.  Hoping that the lesson presented to Jayce is taken and grown from, to be used as a positive reference in his future.   

   I am a rescuer by nature. As a mother this quality has its drawbacks.  It's hard for me to allow my children to have natural consequences.  I want to buffer, interfere, "show" them how things are done so they don't mess up.  I remind myself often of the process a caterpillar must endure in its journey to become a butterfly.   

Once a little boy was playing outdoors and found a fascinating caterpillar. He carefully picked it up and took it home to show his mother. He asked his mother if he could keep it, and she said he could if he would take good care of it.

The little boy got a large jar from his mother and put plants to eat, and a stick to climb on, in the jar. Every day he watched the caterpillar and brought it new plants to eat.

One day the caterpillar climbed up the stick and started acting strangely. The boy worriedly called his mother who came and understood that the caterpillar was creating a cocoon. The mother explained to the boy how the caterpillar was going to go through a metamorphosis and become a butterfly.

The little boy was thrilled to hear about the changes his caterpillar would go through. He watched every day, waiting for the butterfly to emerge. One day it happened, a small hole appeared in the cocoon and the butterfly started to struggle to come out.

At first the boy was excited, but soon he became concerned. The butterfly was struggling so hard to get out! It looked like it couldn’t break free! It looked desperate! It looked like it was making no progress!

The boy was so concerned he decided to help. He ran to get scissors, and then walked back (because he had learned not to run with scissors…). He snipped the cocoon to make the hole bigger and the butterfly quickly emerged!

As the butterfly came out the boy was surprised. It had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. He continued to watch the butterfly expecting that, at any moment, the wings would dry out, enlarge and expand to support the swollen body. He knew that in time the body would shrink and the butterfly’s wings would expand.

            But neither happened!

The butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.

It never was able to fly…

As the boy tried to figure out what had gone wrong his mother took him to talk to a scientist from a local college. He learned that the butterfly was SUPPOSED to struggle. In fact, the butterfly’s struggle to push its way through the tiny opening of the cocoon pushes the fluid out of its body and into its wings. Without the struggle, the butterfly would never, ever fly. The boy’s good intentions hurt the butterfly.

    This may not be a life altering experience for Jayce.  But I hope it will be one he uses to build on to become self reliant, a supportive friend, and someone who learns to deal with life's speed bumps with grace.  So today I sit, watching the little butterfly struggle within the cocoon.  

    Thankfully, even if our 'cocoon' is snipped in our lives and we come out with a swollen body and shriveled wings,  we have the opportunity to get back in that cocoon, and become through Christ, everything He wants us to be.   

Ragnar Las Vegas 2016

Hard to believe that I just ran my 4th Ragnar in one year.  Hard to believe for anyone else except me, because I did it, and it was hard.  It all started with Las Vegas November of 2015.  Our Mother Runner group was kind of a baby in terms of teams.  We ran Las Vegas, then Zion, UT trail run in May 2016 (which wasn't technically mother runners because we brought our husbands and there were only 4 couples), Wasatch Back, UT in June 2016, and rounding it out again with Las Vegas last weekend.

After running several races with these ladies, I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for blessing me with their friendship.  Each woman has a set of gifts unique to her, that plays the role of a blessing in each of our lives.  As we have trained, run, and a whole heck of a lot of lunch dates in between- we have woven the threads of friendship into a tight knit canvas that we each love and treasure dearly.

Each race was a very different experience.  Our first Ragnar was scary, new, and filled with determination and laughter at every single turn.  We cried with tears of admiration and pride as we watched our friends end a particularly difficult run, coming in with the last ounce of energy they had, and collapsing into her teammates arms.  We laughed often and freely, sometimes so much it physically hurt.  Those moments were usually in the late hours of the day, with feelings of complete exhaustion, and sleep deprivation.  Women do wacky things when they are without their mothering duties for an extended period of time... they slip back into younger habits, and live a little lot more freely.  Voices get louder, more colorful, guards are let down.

Running Zion with my husband was not the kind of experience I expected.  I should have known better.  One of my favorite quotes "All frustration is a result of unmet expectation" applies here.  The race was hard.  And Jason, bless him for all his wonderful qualities, but he makes a terrible cheerleader.  And cheerleading is exactly what I need and want while I'm running.  Someone to tell me to push harder even when I think I have hit my limits.  Someone to yell and scream and jump up and down when I push through and come around that corner sweaty and covered in dirt because I fell. (yes, I did.)  And that course... became my nemesis.  I won't be running it again.

Wasatch Back, UT.  This one was tricky.  I ran over 19 miles total.  And it was rough.  Not awful, but rough.  The van carrying the other half of our team was not holding aces.  It was pretty awful.  They ran in the heat of the day twice and it was unusually hot for that time of year. Their legs assignments were hard, with a significant number of them uphill.  Several of our runners barely made it.  But they MADE it.  If you ask any of that van, they will tell you absolutely no, not interested in going through that again.  It was by far one of the most beautiful stretches of country I have ever seen. I would consider doing it again...

Last weekend.  I struggled.  I whined. I complained. I even cried a little. But I ran the heck out of that race.  I prepared for the hills, I raced faster than I did training, I got lost once, but I made it.  My team lifted me.  They took my bellyaching and lifted me anyway.  I didn't deserve it, but they loved me enough to look past my weaknesses and lift. me. up.  And I love them for it.

They are beautiful, kind, hilarious, sassy, inappropriate, flawed, tough, resilient, loud, unwavering, and they are MY Mother Runners.  Every. Last. One of them.

I love my Mother Runners.

Not so little littles

In 14 years of parenting I have been told that children grow up way too fast.  I had moments when I could relate.  The first day of school, or watching one of them sleep after a particularly tough day, celebrating each birthday, they were fleeting moments.  I felt and acknowledged them, but then I moved forward.  This time the fleeting has lingered.  It's heavier.  It's harder.  Jayce is 14 and his life, his body, his emotions, and his mind have changed dramatically in a matter of months.  I love the young man he has become and I love the age and continue to love each stage he begins.  But I am most certainly in mourning.  I miss his little hands, his little kissable lips, his little boy messiness, I miss his need for his mama.  Jayce was an especially difficult child.  His temper was fierce and fiery.  He was small and freckle faced.  Now i hear him talk and I sometimes forget to listen to what he is saying because I am distracted by the depth in his vocal chords.  His freckles are still there, but softened.  Conversations are more complex.  His humor more timely but still a bit awry.  I felt all of this creeping in as summer came to a close, knowing that as he started high school his life would change.  Today he held a girls hand for the first time.  I watched carefully the emotions crawl across his grinning face as he realized I knew.  We talked.  He shared.  The level of communication between Jayce and I is what every mother hopes for.  He tells me his heart.  He shares with me his sadness, and concerns.  We have built a trusting relationship.  I am so grateful, but I am so very sad.  He grew up too fast.  So fast.

When Life Gets Hard

I knew I should have written it all down that night.  The night after. But here it is weeks later and I am forcing myself to write and all I have are my notes.  Dear future self, listen to this conference by these great speakers on whatever platform is available, it's amazing.

Janna and I and a smattering of her family and friends went to Richfield to listen to a conference by Jon Bytheway, Meg Johnson, and our family favorite, Hank Smith.  The conference subject matter was "When life gets hard".  I wasn't sure going in how it would play out.  Would they talk about crazy hard things in life and we would all leave feeling grateful for the trials we had been struggling with?  Would they address something specific I was going through and I would leave feeling empowered?  Was it just going to be a pep talk to keep on truckin'?  Turns out these guys have done this before.  And it was incredible.  We walked out of that room laughing, lighter, and yes empowered to keep moving forward when life got hard.  It was exactly what I needed.  And I am pretty sure it was exactly what Janna needed.

Jan and I spent about 3 hours talking on the drive up and back.  We haven't had that much talk time in a long time.  Things got real.  She has the neatest outlook on her life.  She knows her life will be shortened.  But giving up and giving in are not part of her plan.  She knows it won't help anything to dwell on the can nots, so she focuses on the cans.  She posted a quote that said, "True strength is not giving up even when everyone would understand if you did."  This is her mantra.  She knows what she is doing is hard, it's devastating and scary.  But she's fighting every step of the way.  I am changed because she chooses joy.

My tiny person

I have been gone most of today, so when I pulled into the garage tonight and spent a few moments in the car gathering my thoughts, I could have very well let my impatience get the better of me when Jared popped his face up next to the car window and enthusiastically pointed to his shared journal.  Each of my children has a small journal that is a space where they can write to Jason or I, and we can do the same to them.

It has been a while since I have seen one.  Jared has always struggled with reading and writing.  So, to see three pages filled with words, charts, and drawings meant he had spent a significant amount of time on it.  I won't share what he wrote publicly, but they were words of love spoken from a boy to his mama.

My sweet Jared turned 10 this month and I had a hard time with it.  It's been a big year of birthdays this year. Jayce turned 14 attending youth conference, EFY and then started high school.  Lainy will turn 12 in two short months, move up to young womens, and started middle school. And Jared, no longer a single digit kid, and having an opinion on his clothing and hair.  All of this also means I am getting older.  And that's ok with me.

The temple walk

Today was full.  I spent the morning with Janna's little person, played basketball, and then took her to dance class.  Due to her refusal to dance alone, I spent a half an hour warming up and practicing a recital dance with a roomful of 3 and 4 year olds.  It was a reminder that I am never too old to dance like a ballerina, and that my flexibility levels are at an all time low.

Spent lunch time with a group of the most amazing women to celebrate a birthday, went grocery shopping, picked up kids from school, took Lainy to and from volleyball, and finally walked 5 miles with our young women, from the church building to the Cedar City LDS Temple, currently under construction.

We walked along the busy main street, the weather was perfect, and the girls were in good spirits.  Each mile marker there was a loving leader, to share with us both physical and spiritual sustenance, preparing us for our journey forward toward the temple.  It took 2 hours, but I didn't hear one word of complaint, instead I heard laughter, encouragement, and even a challenge to see how many times the girls could get passersby to wave back. It was a lot.  I heard one person ask why we chose the route along the busy street.  For safety reasons we chose that path with a sidewalk for the majority of the time.  But it made me think about our journey to the temple on a spiritual level.  These girls will have to travel along side the world.  They will have to steer clear of the noise and traffic of it.  It is loud and fast, but there is a clear pathway to the temple if you stay on track.  We had several girls meet us on the trail due to time constraints, and I realized that we do pick up people and bring them with us along the way.  That it doesn't matter at what point on the journey they join us, we were just happy they came.  At the very end there was a stretch of road just before you get to the temple that goes up a very steep hill.  It reminded me that our journey is long, and our journey is hard. And we have to push forward even until the very end to receive these beautiful blessings of the temple, and of eternity.  But it was worth it.  It is worth it.   I am so grateful I was able to experience tonight with Lainy.  She loved it.  I loved it.  Tonight was one of those stepping stones that prepares each of us to enter the Holy Temple of God.

Listening to an Apostle of the Lord

Jayce and I had the opportunity to listen to Elder Ballard speak this weekend at the Centrum at SUU. Honestly, I was looking for ways to get out of it, I wanted to spend more time with Jason since he only has about 36 hours home each weekend.  I knew it was a pretty important and uncommon occurrence, and yet I was not anxiously awaiting it.  A few of my laurels wanted to ride together, so we went.  What a blessing of an evening.

I have been working on recognizing the spirit in my life, what is emotion and what is the Spirit.  I was captivated.  I have a hard time sitting still for long periods of time in a confined space, but this. This was different.  I knew without the emotion attached, that the spirit was strong in that giant room.

I didn't take notes, I didn't check and recheck my phone, I didn't giggle with the girls by my side.  I listened.  It wasn't until Elder Ballard was recapping that I realized I had never taken my notebook out of my bag.  It didn't matter, that night it was about the moment, and there were answers that I didn't even realize I had been searching for, answered.

This boy.  If ever a child's life was represented by a roller coaster, it's this kid.  And it's one of those rides that has triple loops, crazy climbs and death defying drops.  But man is he fun, full of excitement and you just want to get on that ride with him.  He turned 14 this summer, grew about 3 inches in a matter of months, and sometimes I have to double check that there is isn't an intruder in my house due to his lowered voice.  This summer has been one for the record books in so many ways, but I think the most important growth has happened in the last few weeks.

Jayce was able to attend Especially for Youth (EFY) at the BYU Provo campus for a week.  I was a little worried.  The first day he called and said he was ready to come home.  By by day 2, I had to fight for time to talk with him.  He was so busy learning to love 20 other people, and building his relationship with his Savior that I only got snippets of time to chat with him.  When I picked he and his friend Logan up after 6 days, both got solemnly into the car, each ones eyes brimming with tears. The emotion was tangible.  These boys knew that they had experienced something that wasn't going to be replicated in the real world.  They were leaving behind people they connected with on a level you rarely enjoy in your day to day lives.  It was a solid 20 minutes before either of them felt in control enough to speak much.  As the time passed they began to unravel the weeks events, remembering, reliving the adventure.  I learned about each of these youth who touched my sons life for the better. Each with a story and specific traits Jayce loved.  Jayce talked of the example of a boy his own age and how he wanted to learn to live with the joy and gratitude that he showed. Girls that showed respect, both for others and for themselves. A testimony meeting filled with the Spirit. Jayce said they sang with angels that day.  That he loved his Savior, so very much.  He told me how grateful he was to know that Jesus Christ knows our pain and our suffering so He can comfort us.

I never could have hoped for the growth I saw in my son that day.  Even days later he reminds me how grateful he is for the growth in his testimony.  He shares things he learned from the incredible teachers, counselors and friends at EFY, with our family during scripture study and family home evening.  I can't say enough about this program.  His confidence, testimony, knowledge, and his heart have grown, and I love it.  And I love this roller coaster boy.

Went up to my favorite spot this morning with my favorite running partner for an 8 mile run.  It's a 2000 ft elevation descent and the views are breathtaking.  Downhill running is the closest I imagine I can get to flying while still on the ground.  There are moments where I come around a corner and I am overwhelmed by the beauty and I love the fast pace of a downhill run.

About a mile in I realized I wasn't properly fueled.  It had been a busy morning and I forgot breakfast.  And it was getting warm pretty fast.  Instead of experiencing my favorite run, I had to use all my physical and mental reserves just to get down the hill.  My music wasn't cutting it for inspiration, and walking wasn't an option.  Then I thought about this week...

I was afforded the opportunity to go to youth conference up at Heber Valley with our stake youth group this week for a few days. It was Jayce's first youth conference.  I loved it.  Our theme was feasting on the words of Christ. It's the church's annual theme this year.  2 Nephi 31:20

"Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and all men. Wherefore if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the words of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father, ye shall have eternal life."

We've recited it each Sunday in Young Women's.  I've heard it my whole life.  But those who taught us and allowed us to feast upon the words of Christ while there, changed my perspective.  It reminded me that scripture study and hearing the words of the prophets and apostles are necessary for our daily "runs".  There are often days when, like the run I had today I have to just get through the day.  But starting the day feasting on the scriptures and feeding my spirit will help me enjoy more moments and build upon the testimony I have.

About 4 miles in I was desperate, turned off my music and quickly found a conference talk to put in my ears as a distraction.  Though I didn't listen to the prophet the rest of the way down, it certainly gave me the boost I needed to keep going.  I am often reminded when I am running that my physical body is not the only part of me that is needed and used. My mind and spirit are just as important to nourish in order to experience a great run.

Janna background

I first met Janna when she interviewed me for the job at the OBGYN office.  I remember thinking she was just about the most bubbly and sunshiny person I'd ever met.  After I got the job, I remember thinking that both joy and misery were contagious.  She made that office joyful.  And we caught it.  It was about 9 months later that she had the mass in her stomach checked and found the cancer.  A baby friendship really.  But 9 months is all you need to grow a human, and it was certainly enough time to solidify a deep rooted friendship.  It's been about 7 months since she was diagnosed. A lot has happened.  Surgery, chemo, triumphs and sorrow.  She is still as joyful as the day I met her.  I have come to know and love her family.  Her children are here sometimes and I can see the influence of the their mother in the squeals and shrieks of happiness.  We moved to Cedar on a whim.  There was no concrete reason to move here.  No family, no friends, and no job.  Over the last nearly two years I have developed friendships that have changed me, opportunities that scare me, and a love for this town I now call my home.  Janna is a huge anchor for me here.  I know she is one of the reasons we were led here.  Not because she needed me,  she would be just as successful in her journey without me.  But because the Lord knew we needed each other.   She and I have often acknowledged the feeling that we are only carrying on a friendship developed long before this earth life.  I believe it too.

Shaved

It's been about 6 weeks since Janna found out that the chemo she's been using to battle her cancer wasn't working as they expected.  It seemed as though this was nearly as big a blow to her as the initial diagnosis.  This time, with the new chemo, she'd be losing her hair.  From the beginning I was on board with shaving my head in support of her.  And I'll admit, I was slightly relieved when I found out that the chemo they were using wasn't going to cause her to lose her hair.  Now, 6+ months later, a new chemo and she was facing yet another reality of cancers harsh impacts.  So, she got to work planning her head shaving party.  Yup, she put her joyful Janna spin on a crappy situation.  The invitation extended across social media and throughout her closest friends and family.  Dozens came to shave heads in support of her.  Men going bald, and women shaving the back of the hair.   It was quite a sight.  It was raining and cold, they put up canopies and smiles were in abundance.  Jan and I went first.  James shaved hers, while Jason shaved mine.  I wondered how my emotions would fare, but we just giggled and laughed through the process.

The week following, Janna struggled.  I imagine the realities of cancer hit hard each time she looked in the mirror.  I know it affected me deeply.  I was a wreck leading up to that day, and the following week.  It didn't take long for her to pull herself up and out of the shadows of sadness and thank her Heavenly Father for the time she has been given.  She said, "I realized, if I had to give up my hair to spend more time with my family, I would gladly do it".

It's been a unique experience for me.  I'm not ill, I'm not fighting for my life.  But I have no hair.  I'm a pretty confident person, but walking into church, school, stores without hair for the first week or so was intimidating. It was akin to walking into those places naked.  The response of strangers was neat.  Some glanced so quickly as to not stare, some responded with warm and sympathetic looks, I even had one kid point and loudly say, " haha! Mom! That lady is bald! hahahaha! She has no hair!"

The very next day after we shaved our heads was Sunday.  Church.  I was fine all the way into the building. Until I had to walk through the chapel.  I stopped.  Physically frozen realizing the people in there would respond.  Until very clearly the thought came to me, I am uncomfortable.  That's the maximum.  This wasn't hard.  This wasn't up there with any of the hard things I have done in my life. I was merely uncomfortable.  And the thought that followed was, this place is safe.  These people love me.  Support me.  And they did.  And they do.  I am grateful. And I kind of love not having hair.

Balboa Island

The stars aligned for a second year in a row and a trip to Balboa Island with 10 of my nearest and dearest was accomplished.  There are a lot of things that have come together in a perfect storm for a trip like this to happen.  Eleven moms and fourty-four children.   Schedules, emotions, husbands, and babysitters were juggled.  It was worth it.  The weather was ideal, the beach was beautiful, the food delicious and the location perfect.  Our weekend was filled with shopping, beach bumming, food indulgence, jogging along the water, laughter, and late nights.  I loved it all.  More than all of that, I loved the change I felt in the relationships I have with these women.  Conversations about deep emotions, fears, joys, trials, and triumphs.  We grew together in our moments of laughter so intense we nearly fell over, we grew in our moments of near insanity while staying up way too late, we even grew in our moments of hurt and forgiveness when apologies were needed.  I see these women differently than I did before we embarked this weekend.  I love them.  I appreciate them. I am grateful for them.

I have been blessed in my life.  I've said it before and I will repeat it.  I have a Father in Heaven who has given me the gift of friendship everywhere I go.  I love those friends from my past and present.  I am grateful for you.  There was a concern discussed on several occasions this weekend.  It was a discussion stemmed from love of those who feel left out.  It's a common thread that weaves through communities with so many wonderful families.  We discussed our first impressions we felt about each other and how time has a way of sorting out our misunderstandings and the fears we have about personality differences.  We talked of things we have said to each other that may have been hurtful and that forgiveness never has an expiration.  Not one of of the ladies, including myself, I spent the last 4 days with, is perfect.  Each of us has strengths and weaknesses, things to work on and things to teach.  These women teach me that imperfections are not a reason to avoid friendship.  So reach out and be willing to accept some imperfection.  I promise the joys far out weigh the flaws.

Stupid Gap.

Each time I thought about how I wanted my kids to have this awesome history to read, I thought "I should write this or that down soon." Soon turned into a year and a half.  Now there's a stupid gap.  A gap that so many wonderful memories could have filled.  Tonight as I sat at a baby and bridal mash up shower, and was asked to write down some advice for the bride and advice for the mama to be, I found myself sharing with her that writing down a history of your childs life well past their 5th birthday is IMPORTANT.

Today, 11 year old Lainy went to the movies alone with some of her friends who are already in Jr High.  I was in such a flurry putting the finishing touches on a dessert for the shower that I couldn't even mourn the moment.  It was a passing panic moment that I watched fly out the door with her.  She's growing at a pace my heart isn't ready for.

Jared spent the afternoon at Gabe's house.  A boy who has some social issues.  A boy who when I called his parents to send Jared home, said how grateful they were that Jared has been coming to play because Gabe has never had a friend come over and play.  I asked Jared how it has been going and he said, he liked going over there.  He knows Gabe doesn't have friends and wants to be his friend.  When did he learn that?  When did his soft heart expand to a circle larger than our family?  Pin pointing when those those qualities we spend our whole lives teaching take hold is a blurry moment.

Jayce spent the day with a newish friend.  I have prayed for months that he be led to a good friend.  A great friend. Someone who will make the good choices I know in his heart he wants to make along side him.  Someone who needs a good friend as much as he does.  As much as his mom does.

Today I write to deny a gap.  To remind myself of my blessings.  Of which I have many.