Working a lifetime VS Spending a lifetime

     We all have those times in our lives where certain trials or tribulations induce you to take stock of your current situation.  Sometimes while suffering in the trenches we may have an epiphany and will finally make significant, impacting choices.  For me, this is how I usually figure out what to do while in the storm.  Never before have I experienced the aura before all hell breaks loose.

     Recently, while my husband was working a mandatory Saturday night shift, I found myself looking for something to watch on Netflix.  I stumbled upon a documentary about minimalism.  Many of you may already know I am pretty organized and could even be called a bit OCD.  At one point of the film a gentleman said "are you working for a lifetime or spending a lifetime?".  I paused, replayed and wrote down his words.  The statement resonated through my body and soul and at that moment I grabbed a notebook of my nightstand and made two columns.  On one side I wrote "working for a lifetime" and on the other "spending a lifetime".  By 1:30am, I had compiled 2 columned pages and several goals for myself and the next steps I would take to achieve them.  I really had to ask myself some hard questions about what "I" wanted out of my own life, and not just "what is good for my family....".  (That is hard for me to put me first).  This week the purpose of these guiding thoughts made itself known.  I am facing several big battles at once, some good and some bad.
 
     Usually every year in October (my birth month) I go in for my mammogram.  This past October, with a new job and stresses, I decided to postpone.  I told myself that mine was fine last year so I could just wait till next year.  By Thanksgiving week, I realized there was something not right with my breast.  I called the breast clinic and made my appointment for the Christmas break.  Not long after the appointment I was asked to make another appointment for a complete diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound, so I made one in February.  While visiting with my PCP, she insisted that I was already under enough stress and why add this terrible wait to it.  She called the clinic and had them bump it up to today.

     You may or may not know that my mother is a breast cancer survivor, TWICE!  She lost her 1st breast when I was still in high school.  She had been very lucky because a form letter came from their medical plan one day encouraging women over 50 to have a mammogram.  My mom decided this was a good idea and called the number.  The 1st appointment was 2 months OUT!  But my mom had no symptoms or indication of anything being wrong.  When she finally got in, cancer was found in her milk ducts and into her lymph nodes.  My mother courageously endured surgery to remove her breast and lymph nodes.  They refused her request to remove the other breast.  She went through chemotherapy and taught me that it was my responsibility to be aware of my breast health, especially after my grandmother was diagnosed in her 80's with breast cancer.  My mom about 4 years ago at the age of 79 was finally able to get her other breast removed, when they found 3-4 new spots of cancer beginning to grow.

     Today it was determined that I need a biopsy.  Could be benign but lets know for sure, right?
  
     In those moments as I walked out to my van today, holding back tears till I was safely inside, it became abundantly clear why I need to "spend a lifetime".

     As time progresses, I will be implementing the small, attainable goals (thank you woodbadge) that I made for myself a few weeks ago.  I know that these goals will put me where I TRULY would like to be.  I hope by doing these things step by step that it will become permanent and meaningful.  I know that I want a life that was well spent and as purposeful as can be.

     Prayers are always appreciated as my family navigates this and other burdens recently put upon us.  It has been a week of doom and gloom, but I am confident that my loving family and I will get through it.

     Happy thoughts :)

Back in the Mommy Saddle Again.

Well it has been a long time without posting and here is why.  I had to return to full time employment after my son, Keith, sliced his fingers off in an accident.  It's amazing how expensive delicate hand surgeons are.  I about had a heart attack the first time I saw the office visit bill.  $2500 he bills to my insurance company!  I won't even tell you what he billed for the 5 hour surgery.  AMAZING!  But the man did save my son's fingers and left him with more mobility in them than expected.  My son, Kyle, left for the military and is currently stationed at Fort Bragg in North Carolina.  Brett is now officially a teenager, Ruby hit First Grade, Alora started kindergarten and Ross is almost a preschooler.

Working while having 5 kids at home is not that easy.  Luckily I have an amazing husband that helped out at home any way he could.  But changes in our life means he will not be able to be as involved and I have had to make some decisions for me that I may not have made otherwise.

As of February 17th, my husband will move to the swing/night shift.  This meant for me that I needed to figure out what to do.  I am still attending school for my bachlors degree through Western Governor's University and am currently only 27 CU's from my student teaching.  (I did 31 CU's in my first term at WGU and 19 in my second term to put that in perspective).  The student teaching cohorts only are available for September and January each year but I have to finish all these credits to make it in.  Trying to work, be mom, and attend school meant something has to give.  So I have chosen to not work full time anymore (much to my co-workers chagrin) and focus on my schooling during the weekdays. 

This means getting kids up, making breakfast, brushing hair, getting kids off to on off of buses, changing diapers, managing tantrums, cooking real lunches and dinners, talking to school counselors, cleaning house, trips to the grocery store, and all the rest of the regular stay at home mommy stuff while trying to finish assignments, attend webinars, and knock out research.  I am hoping to make the January 2016 cohort which means I need to really get my butt in gear.  I am going to keep working on just Saturdays for now and see how that goes.

At least I have my trusty chocolate bar sidekicks to see me through it all. 

YEE HAW!!!

Project #1: Kitchen

I am going to be doing some updating all around my house over the next year or so and for my first project I have decided to do a modest update on our kitchen.  I am going to try and keep the cost under $1500.  I love the philosophy of using what you have so in this makeover I am going to keep the cabinets, except replace the broken drawer base, and the pulls, knobs, and hinges which I will paint.  To be replaced:  the floor and the countertop.  I will also add a backsplash.  I plan on doing most or all of the work.  I will be salvaging materials at a couple of my favorite haunts:  Second Use and Habitat for Humanity stores.

Here are the before's, I will post some updates of my progress.

If you have any thoughts or suggestions let me know.

No Hot Mustard......

     Last week I was hit with the news that my McDonald's no longer had hot mustard sauce.  For over 20 years I have had hot mustard sauce with my fries (yes, not my nuggets).  It is breaking my heart that it has been discontinued.  Before you start thinking I am such a whiner, there are really reasons why it hurts.

     It all starts when my first boy, Keith, was about 1 years old.  We lived within walking distance of the McDonald's in town.  We were pretty poor at the time, so when I saved up enough quarters to buy a two cheeseburger meal for $2.99 ($3.24 with tax) we would walk down to the McDonald's.  There was a little playground and we would share the little meal.  One day they were out of ketchup and knowing that Keith liked to dip his fries, I grabbed a hot mustard sauce (this was when they left the sauces out in a container and you could choose whatever you wanted instead of having to beg at the counter).  To my astonishment, he loved it and it turned out so did I.  Keith is all grown up now.  He is attending college in Ellensburg and probably doesn't remember our little walks to the McDonald's, but I do.  They are a sweet, tender memory.

     When I was going through a really rough patch in my life, hot mustard sauce was involved there too.  We had moved to Enumclaw where I didn't know anybody and was having a hard time fitting in.  Not only that, my now ex-husband had told me he didn't love me anymore but didn't want to get divorced.  Here I was with three boys, no support system, and was terribly unhappy.  My ex worked two jobs and sometimes didn't get home till 8-9pm.  When he would get home I would jump in the car and head down to the McDonald's and order a large coke, fries, and hot mustard sauce.  I would sit in my car in the parking lot listening to melancholy music and would try to find the strength to make it through one more day.  It was a very trying time.

     I know everyone isn't a big fan of McDonald's, and though it isn't the fine dining that some of us crave it has been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life.  Even today my husband knows that if I am parked in the driveway and haven't come in yet that I am most likely outside sipping on a large coke and fires with hot mustard sauce.  It may not be healthy to have this kind of connection to a food in making myself feel better, but it certainly has been cheaper than some of the therapy I have paid for with often better results.
 
     When my family goes to pick up anything at McDonald's for me, they know the golden rule is don't forget mom's hot mustard sauce. Well, at least now they won't have to get the stink eye for forgetting.

Motherhood

     I don't know what most women envision motherhood to be like, but I am pretty sure it's not what they expect.  Motherhood for me was never something I grew up putting in my "what I want to be when I grow up" essays.  Now before you get the wrong idea here, let me please clarify; being a mother was something I always knew I would do, it was a part of my being.  I just always knew that I would be a mother and someone's partner.  Whatever I decided to do in life was always going to be second to motherhood.  But I have identity issues with only being a mother.  I never wanted to be identified only as a homemaker.  I went to nursing school and earned my LPN, but being a mother and being needed at home made motherhood as my only job.
     It's a hard job.  Dr. Phil said being a full time mother is the same as having two full time jobs.  Now I may not agree with all of Dr. Phil's views, but he got this one right.  I have been a single mom working to support my three boys and that was so much easier than being a full time stay at home mom.   I imagined motherhood to be hard, fun, challenging, and most of all rewarding.  For the most part that is what I have experienced.  It is certainly not what I am thinking when it's 2:00 in the morning and one kid is puking, while the baby is crying, and another kid has a severe cough; but for the most part it is what I envisioned.
     I have a lot of pride and love for each of my beautiful 6 children.  I became a wife and mother at 18 years old and so there has been many years of cherished moments of being with my kids over the last 22 years.  It is sometimes challenging having such a age gap between some of the kids but it has turned out better than I imagined.    
     I have such respect (and jealousy) for women who tell me all they have ever wanted to be is a mother.  I have a very difficult time being home each and every day.  I get cabin fever (my mom says it's the Grover side of the family).  I wish I was talented like some other mom's I know who do such creative things with their little ones.  I am normally counting the hours till my husband gets home so I can hide or take a nap.
     Kudo's to all mothers whatever kind of mother you are.  It is a noble calling.  You don't have to be someone whose given childbirth.  There have been wonderful women who have been mother's to my children helping them along in their journey upon the earth and I have been very grateful for their love and sacrifice in serving my family.
   

Teachers

     One of the tasks left for part of my teacher portfolio has been to write a teaching philosophy.  As I have thought about this for almost a month the only thing that kept coming to mind was all the different teachers that have been in my life. 
    I can remember my primary chorister, Sister Balls in Kent long ago.  I remember learning the song "Children All Over The World".  If you are not LDS, it's a cute little song that reminds us that we all pray to our Heavenly Father in our own language and way.  You can listen to it here:  http://www.lds.org/music/library/childrens-songbook/children-all-over-the-world?lang=eng
     Why do I remember it, because she brought cool chimes to play during the song.  I loved the sound of them.  I enjoyed learning the different ways that children said thank you around the world.  She tried to give everyone a turn.  Because we sang, moved, and chimed I can always remember the words to the song.  I hope to use this example of interaction in my classroom someday.
     I remember my piano teacher, Sister Cervantes.  My mom was a piano teacher but I had a hard time doing what she wanted me to do so she sent me to Mae.  She was a lovely, older lady who always made me feel at ease.  She knew just how much to challenge me and apply the right amount of reward so I didn't get to cocky.  My biggest regret has been that I didn't go to lessons longer.  I can play, but I am not as accomplished as I wish I was.  I hope that I can teach my students to learn to follow through and become lifelong learners.  In my classroom, I want to challenge them so that they can become great.
     The one teacher who had the most effect on my life was Mr. King at Covington Elementary.  I was very lucky to have him for 5th and 6th grade.  He impacted my life in so many ways with one very simple behavior.  That behavior was to treat us as equals.  He would lay out the rules, consequences, and would tell us that we were responsible for ourselves.  He made me feel grown up and not just a student.  I felt like a partner in my learning.  Another great thing about him was he had a sense of humor.  I remember him making a bet with Erica that she couldn't go the whole day without talking.  The cost of her failure was his favorite candy bar, a Snickers.  Snickers was a good bargaining chip for other things too.  He always made me feel important.  He taught me that it was okay that I was younger than the other kids, gave me confidence to try out for the school play, and that I was perfect just the way I was and I didn't need to prove that to anyone.  I hope that in my classroom someday I can give my students a lift in their self esteem, help relieve the burdens they may carry and encourage them to be the best person that they are; not what anyone else pigeonholes them into being.  I also think I will frame a Snickers bar wrapper and hang it up in my classroom to remind me teachers do touch lives, even if it's just one.
     I have been blessed by many people who have held the title of teacher in my life.  Brother Kelly who taught us the words to "I heard the bells on Christmas day" and enlightened me to the gospel as my primary teacher and as my Sunday school teacher.  Sister Knutzen (now Black) who gave me my first and only manicure as a young women at an overnight at her house.  Ms. Olsen at Sequoia Junior High, that brought the world of Greek mythology to light and made me see that I was really a queen.
     I am sure as you think through you life there are many people who have touched and inspired you with their teaching.  I hope that you will take a second and thank God for such wonderful people that have been a part of your journey.

Just like my mother.

     Earlier this week I posted a tidbit on facebook about how I am saying things that used to come out of my mother's mouth.  A good friend commented "mirror, mirror, on the wall, I am my mother after all".  That got me thinking about all the things in my life that have been influenced or came directly from being my mother's daughter.
     The first thing is that I am always cold.  Growing up I don't remember being so cold but I do remember making fun of my mother who was always hiding out in the bathtub.  (According to my dad she still complains of being cold in Mesquite, Nevada and can be found hiding in the tub when it's 80 degrees).  Now I am always freezing and have to wear socks and a sweater.  At night, my husband understands that it is his sole job in our marriage to be my bed warmer and to not scream when I put my cold feet on him.
     The second thing is my love of reading.  You can find me reading a book of some sort every time I get a break from my kids.  My mom was (and probably still is) a big romance book fan.  I remember her dragging us to every thrift shop in Kent to get the novels for 10 cents.  She even had a little notebook she carried in her purse to keep track of the numbers so she bought only ones she didn't have.  Once when us kids were younger, we were sitting around mom (who's favorite spot was next to our wood stove.  See #1 above) who was reading one of her novels as we were hanging out.  Mom got up and walked out of the room and my brother, Ric, switched the book.  I will never forget how my mother came back, picked up her book and sat down and just kept reading.  After about 10 minutes we couldn't stop laughing.  I am grateful that she read books, scriptures, and magazines in front of me so I could learn to love it too.
     The third thing is I am starting to understand the appeal of a "mu-mu" (spelling?).  Over the summer I bought a long, knit dress that has become my go to morning apparel.  I can always remember my mom getting home and ripping off her clothes and putting on her Hawaiian patterned mu mu.  At least she's been to Hawaii.  I don't have that excuse.
     Other similarities we share include:  Cheesecake, cream cheese on Ritz crackers, See's candies, hiding coke under the bed, feeling like a failure as a mother, and having given birth to 6 kids.
     I don't know how it happened because I swore it never would, but I am grateful to be like my mom.  She's a been a great, wonderful, and patient example of a woman.