"I hope you come to terms with reality some day."

I posted on Facebook last night asking for help finding a place to live due to our unique circumstances and family size. A family member was the first to respond. It was a rude, hurtful, and demeaning comment in connection with recent events in our family and really had nothing to do with offering solutions to finding a home.  I immediately deleted it and posted this instead.

His Response: 
"I don't want to be mean to you. I really don't. All I have to say is some things are not forgivable. I hope you come to terms with reality some day." 

Well you know what, here is me coming to "terms" with reality.

come to terms with

phrase of term

1. 1.

   come to accept (a new and painful or difficult event or situation); reconcile oneself to.

   "she had come to terms with the tragedies in her life"

   synonyms:

   accept, come to accept, reconcile oneself to, learn to live with, become resigned to, make the best of; face up to "she eventually came to terms with her situation"

Reality. Such an interesting word. What does it mean? Well let me define it according to google: 

re·al·i·ty

rēˈalədē/

noun

1. 1.

   the world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them.

   "he refuses to face reality"

   synonyms:

   the real world, real life, actuality;
2. 2.

   the state or quality of having existence or substance.

   "youth, when death has no reality"

Okay. Reflect with me on each of these definitions.What are the state of things as they actually exist in my life? Let me enlighten you.

I am a mother of 8 children. I am responsible for their physical, emotional/mental, and spiritual well being. That means I have to make sure they have underwear, socks, shoes, appropriate clothes for the weather, a roof over their heads, food to put in their bellies, a good education; you get the picture. And somehow between their birth and when they turn 18 I am responsible to teach them how to provide these things for themselves. For their emotional/mental well being I have to understand the unique personality of each child so I am able to help each child understand  their emotional/mental strengths and weakness and teach healthy ways to deal with the emotional/mental challenges of life so that they don't have to turn to drugs and alcohol to cope. This has been no walk in the park thus far since each of my children are extremely advanced intellectually and way behind in their emotional development. Spiritually, I am responsible for instilling good principles in my children, teach them right for wrong so they can grow up with a moral compass and become a contributing adult to make a positive difference wherever life may take them.

To add to this, I am also a wife, friend, daughter, sister, and neighbor. With each of these comes many more responsibilities that I juggle on a regular basis. Last but not least, I have the responsibility to take care of myself and my own happiness. No one can or will do it for me.  

Now how about definition 2. Does my life have quality of existence or substance?

Duh! I may have many responsibilities and stresses, but my life is filled with children's laughter, excitement, wonderment and delight.  I have deep, meaningful relationships with friends, family, neighbors, and my husband. 

I don't have time or desire to dwell on things I cannot change. My life and heart is so full of substance and quality that I don't have room in my life or heart for pain and bitterness. When bad, painful, heart retching things happen, I cry, I talk to those I have meaningful relationships with, I redefine my life, I forgive, and move on. Just as I'm doing now. I've cried about the pain created when in a time of need, I was slapped in the face by a rude, hurtful, and demeaning comment, I've now discussed it here, I've redefined and realize that dwelling on this matter isn't adding to my quality of life, I've forgiven, and now I'm moving on.

You know what? Maybe I'm not the one who needs to come to terms with reality!

I need to get it off my chest!

This morning I was awoken by my phone sounding telling me I had a text. It was a long text by a well meaning person venting some frustrations about me. (Long story). My first reaction: Can I just put a bullet through my head and be done? About this time, my husband is getting in the shower and calls out from the bathroom about something. Do I tell him or keep quiet? Thankfully some sense kicks and I tell my husband how I'm feeling without much explanation. I have a habit of keeping quiet when I'm on the brink of quitting. Instead of holding everything in I'm going to get somethings of my chest.

In no particular order here they are.

For crying out loud people, stop judging!! You have no idea what another is going through. The things you post or say about people can be the breaking point in someone's life. I can tell you from personal experience the people who are quiet and seem to keep everything together, helping other people, and are "saints" are usually the ones that are one unthoughtful comment away from killing themselves. Be a friend and include everyone. Seek first to understand then be understood. It might surprise you what you find out is going on in someone's life and you might be more forgiving.

I constantly see posts about people being on welfare and how they are bums living on someone else's money. Or how people are tired of their hard earned money being given away to people who don't want to work for themselves. I'm ashamed to admit I use to be one of these uneducated, condoning people. Not anymore. Do you want to know why?  Let me educate you.

Within a few years of being married, we were very blessed and my husband made good money. We had a house, we had food storage and had a years worth of money saved up. We had 5 children with #6 on the way. Life was good. We gave to the poor, lived in a great neighborhood and great ward. Then in 2010, my husband took a pay cut and we were keeping our eyes out for new employment. Money was tight but we were still managing. A few months later my husband is one of the last employees working for this company. Still no new job options. Then it happened. He goes to work and they announce to the final employees to go home. They are closing their doors. 9 months, 100's of job applications and 2 job interviews later, we were still jobless, child 6 was due anytime, and our savings is just about spent. We lost our home. We did not have the option to move in with family. What now? We had some hard decisions to make. We turned to welfare for help after exhausting all our resources. Let me tell you what it's like to be on welfare. Our first "welfare" home was a 4 bedroom 1000sq ft dump on a very busy street with very strict rules about the property, who can visit and for how long, etc... I was still grateful for a roof over our heads. Then we were blessed to rent a better home with Sec 8 subsidy.  We have been here for 5 years trying to better our situation and get back on our feet with Kevin going back to school and working when he can. So why aren't we off welfare yet? Because we can't get off and survive. We don't want to be on it. It has become a necessary thorn in our lives. We are told how much we can rent a house for, how much $ for food we can use, and we can't have more than $2000 of assets (money, cars) or we get kicked off welfare. It's a catch 22. When we have an income we pay a % of that towards rent which I completely agree with. Then food stamps are also reduced drastically by more than what we are actually bringing home. Somehow we are supposed to make up the difference of rent going up and paying the difference in food costs when our new expenses equal more than our income We also lose medicaid for Kevin and me if we make more than $1236/month (that's for a family of 10!) which leaves us paying the "fee" at tax time. We recently found out we won't be able to extend our contract this year for our current home. That means we get to move again and find a place set within the limits the government dictates or be homeless. Our limit is $1239/month for rent on a 5 bedroom place (we can't live in a smaller bedroom home because of Utah Fire Marshall Law.) Here in Utah County that will barely get you into  2-3 bedroom apartment. If you don't believe me you are welcome to look it up. We have to stay here because Kevin is in the middle of his Masters degree. If anyone has a job available for my hubby that will immediately pay minimum of $4000/m after taxes then I will gladly kiss welfare goodbye. Until then, help those around you and stop judging because chances are they are stuck in the welfare cycle too and have given up hope. 

May we all be one in Christ and Christ in us.

2 Children & 4 Years Later...

I believe I mentioned in a forever ago blog that I am terrible at journal writing. I guess a 4 year span would prove it! Anyway, I'm back on board again. Don't ask for how long. Only time will tell.

Since my previous posts, (which I have found very therapeutic to review) my family has grown by 2 children. I guess you could say we are very blessed. To do the math for you, that's 7 children in a little less than 10 years. I'm so pleased with the fact that I can say they are all still alive although I've been tempted to thin out the numbers at times. We have also moved to a different home with each additional child, something to do with a job loss and trying to fit a family of 8 into a 1000 sq ft apartment (that's another story for another day). Due to the job loss, Kevin decided to go back to school full time right after child #6 was born. (Great timing!) He is getting ready to finish his BA in Geology this fall. (YEA!! And I'm soooo proud of him.) To say our lives have been a little hectic would be the understatement of the decade. All I'm going to say is I have definitely developed a deep empathy for all the poor, struggling, married-single student wives out there. It isn't for the faint hearted.

Currently, I have a few thorns in my life that I will write about to vent in a healthy way. (Don't think me ungrateful.) First is Grond the Battering Ram of the Underworld aka our 15 passenger van (ask a Lord of the Rings guru). Grond has so many unique qualities. Grond can never be lost in a parking lot. We can never wash Grond. You see if we were to ever wash Grond, there would be nothing left after all the rust washed away (although I think it was originally brown.) There is never any question of where Grond has been parked. The oil drops tell all. Some people spend a fortune in gas on big vehicles. Not us. Our expense is in oil. Driving Grond is always eventful. You never know whether the battery is going to die on you (when you forget to unhook it)  or if it's too hot or cold to start. (Choke issue.) And the suspension system is awesome for all the children that like to bounce in the back. I could make a killing charging the neighborhood children to ride in Grond. It's better than a carnival ride! It's also an adventure for all the children in car seats. Every time we turn a corner the car seats lean WAY over until we find a corner to turn the other way and upright them again. If you're looking for a tan come ride in the front passenger seat. The visor broke out a few months ago allowing the full effects of the sun's rays to bake a person. If you want to cool off after tanning, you can climb atop Grond and enjoy the swimming pool that collects in the concave roof after a rainstorm. Grond is also a great conductor of weight loss since the sliding door had an irreparably mishap and you have to haul everything in and out the front doors. (Imagine what that means for infant seats and groceries. Not to mention children in general.) The inside of Grond also doubles as a sauna in the summer (no working A/C). What you don't work off you'll sweat off! (I'm looking to lose at least 20 pounds this summer.) There is a perk to Grond though, it has an awesome sound system so at least I can listen to some good tunes while my fat melts away!

Second thorn. I've yet to find a place far, high, low, or clever enough to keep ANYTHING away from children. Need I say anymore?

Last for tonight: radar. I'm not talking about the police car kind. I'm talking about the kind where children are nowhere to be found, you take a quick moment to sneak a piece of chocolate and before the morsel touches your lips there are 6 little leeches looking up at you with puppy dog eyes begging you for a piece. Or there's the telephone radar that sends radio waves through the brains of your children  sending them into a mad frenzy to fight, scream, and tear the house apart. And let's not forget the radar of sitting down to rest or actually eat! It's like children think "Oh look, Mom's sitting down. This is a foreign concept. Life is over as we know it. HELP!" And the grand finale: the moment that the stars actually align in the sky for an intimate moment with your hubby, you forget you even have children, you begin to embrace... and there's a knock on your door (@ 3 a.m.) with a little voice (or screaming at our house) on the other side telling you they've had a bad dream and they want to sleep with you. Did I leave anything out?

Mommys Are NOT Trampolines!!

So my husband is sitting here harassing me about how long it's been since I last wrote an entry. I just checked the date of his last entry; Feb 4 2009. Now I don't feel guilty!

As I sit here thinking about what I want to write about, a few things come to mind to share. I'll start at the beginning of this week.

On Monday, I had a sister and her family come visit us from Nevada. We decided to go to Hogle Zoo for the day. We had a great time and we had no lost children or accidents. Yea!! I think that my childrens' favorite animals were the monkeys. I wonder why?

On Tuesday we went to Timpanogos Cave. And before you ask, yes we took all five children. Thankfully, we had four adults and two teenagers to help. I have to take the liberty and brag about my husband for a moment. If anyone reading this knows anything about Timpanogos Cave you know there is a very steep climb of about 1 1/2 miles to the cave entrance. Well, we started to hike up this paved trail and I realized about 5 minutes into it that "the old grey mare just ain't what she used to be." Because of being extremely out of shape (when did that happen?) I carried a blanket and some jackets up the hill while my hubby had the baby in a front snugglie, a backpack with all of our provisions (about 20lbs), and our youngest toddler most of the way up the mountain. He also repeated this on the way down as well and is still alive to tell about it. Not once did he complain. He is so wonderful.

The tour of the cave was great but I had a hard time hearing anything due to my youngest toddler screaming every time we had to stop because they wanted to keep going up the stairs and play and it was also nap time. I carried them all the way through but it wasn't so bad as the hike. This same child decided to throw their bottle down on the hike back to the bottom of the mountain. It rolled right of the trail and stopped right on the edge of steep cliff. If it had gone any farther the bottle would still be there, but I was able to recover it safely.

On Wednesday I had the opportunity of spending time with the younger three while my hubby took my oldest two swimming. When they left, my youngest two were still napping and so I got to have a rare one on one with my son. We filled the pool out back and played in it and I had some of those moments that you can't quite put into words but that you treasure up in your heart forever. It is times like those that you really see the eternal prospective of everything and what is most important in life. I have been rejuvenated and am willing to be a better mother from that experience.

Friday, my hubby and I had our "date night" after putting children to bed. We played some games and decided to make it more interesting by playing with "wagers". My hubby has been trying to coerce me into exercising (words cannot begin to tell how that word makes be cringe) so we were using exercise as our "payment." I was doing good and my husband was doing lots of sit ups, but then my winning streak came to a halt. I was a good sport and did my exercises when I lost. On one particular turn, I had to do 10 girl push ups. No problem. I get in position and drop to do the first one and SPLAT... I fall flat on my face. (This is embarrassing to write but motivating to do something about it.) Thank goodness I was born with a great sense of humor or there would have been many tears shed. I laughed and tried to do my 10. I have never been such a wimp for as long as I can remember, but I did it!! It took a long time, but I did it!!

Saturday was quite exciting. I spent the morning playing with my family in the back yard and the afternoon and evening in the ER. I was relaxing on the trampoline just laying there and enjoying the sun, the children laughing and thinking it was a good day. My hubby came over to join me and the children soon followed. They were crawling on us and playing around until it was getting to be too much so my hubby asked them to climb off and let us relax. I had my eyes closed and was still laying there while the children were climbing off when I felt this sudden blow to my abdomen. One of my children had decided to take one last jump and did a knee drop right into my lower stomach. I gave the child a tongue lashing and a good spanking out of reaction and then the pain hit. I rolled over into fetal position and couldn't move.

I don't know how long I laid like that but I am one of those people that will not let anyone touch me when I am hurt. My hubby was doing his best to take care of me, though. I finally let my hubby help me into the house and I tried to take care of the hungry baby and other things hoping the pain would subside. It only got worse so I asked for a blessing and felt prompted to go in and have things checked out.

My sister in law came and took me to the Instacare but they just sent us to the ER. I was hoping to avoid it but I guess not. While we were waiting the pain just kept getting worse and worse. They finally called me back and the doctor ordered blood work and a CAT scan. He also ordered some medication for the pain. I am not big on pain medication but was more than happy this time for some relief. (I had all my children without an epidural or pain medication so this should tell you how bad I was hurting!) It was wonderful to feel the pain just disappear when the drugs hit, but I felt really loopy too and that's the part I don't like. Oh well, a fair trade. When the tests results came back they were clear of internal bleeding (PHEW) but they also showed severe bruising of several body organs. They sent me home with more pain meds and told me that things could still change in the next 24 hours so I had to be very careful. They didn't have to worry about that. If I even think about doing anything that stresses those organs, I start to hurt!

Today, I went to church and subbed for the primary chorister while I was all loopy from pain meds. It was kind of fun looking at things from a different prospective trying to act like I felt normal. I must say I feel tons better than yesterday but very tender still. I think I'll take the doctor's advice and not let my children use me as a trampoline ever again!!

911, Brain Surgery, and a Smashed Toe!

Again, I've procrastinated so instead of a bunch of excuses I'll just dive in.

On Thursday, we are loading up to make a trip to the store. Everything is going as usual when I realize that my two year old is nowhere to be found. I think they must be in the backyard still so I head out there and call for them. Nothing. Okay, so they must be upstairs in the bathroom being really quiet so they don't get in trouble for breaking the rules about playing in the bathroom. Negative. How about the bedrooms, they like to play in the closets sometimes. Empty (well of any children, plenty of junk). I'm trying not to panic at this time because for sure they are already out in the car I just didn't notice them slip out with everyone else. I holler at my hubby outside to see if the child is already outside. No, he doesn't see them.

Okay, I'm starting to panic. My hubby comes in from outside to see what is taking me so long. I tell him I can't find our child and he asks me if I've checked all the places that I already checked. We look again together. And again. We blow an air horn in the house thinking they must have fallen asleep somewhere trying to scare them awake. No cries. We check our front yard, garage, neighbor's yard. No Stuart child with wild hair. It's been 10 minutes since we noticed their disappearance. It's been about 30 minutes since we last seen our child. I call 911 while my hubby goes to search the neighborhood more thoroughly.

The police arrive and they ask me all the usual questions. We all look again and again and again. They finally ask if I have a recent picture. (Things aren't looking well from my perspective by this time.) I print off a picture and try not to think of all the terrible things that are creeping into my mind. Another officer shows up and is also searching the house with flashlights and all. Still nothing. My hubby returns from his jaunt and asks if we have found them. No.

By this time it's probably been about an hour since anyone has seen our two year old. I start crying but try to stay composed for my other children. My hubby goes downstairs to look again. I hear him tearing things apart and then he announces the most beautiful words, "I found them!!" I rush downstairs to see where and he's pulling the child out from their "napping" spot. I run upstairs to let the officers know we have found our child. I run back downstairs and grab my baby out of my hubby's arms (I don't think anyone would be brave enough to try and keep them from me right now).

Our child had fallen asleep on top of some plastic totes that I have stored under a little toy table in their play area. Everyone had looked under there several times (even the police with their flashlights) but had failed to see them because of the way the child was laying and their legs were completely hidden by a stool they had between their legs. My hubby barely sees them because they move when he is moving things around. They are not happy to be awakened from their peaceful slumber. (It takes awhile for me to recover but I finally am able to breathe again even though I feel like 10 years of my life are gone!)

I sure learned a lesson of appreciation for my children from this experience and it's a good thing too! The very next day this same child is helping unload the dishwasher when they take a sharp steak knife out of the silverware holder. Before I can do anything they turn around and start hitting another child in the head over and over again with the blade. (I think they are a little young to be performing brain surgery.) Horrified, I wrestle the blade away and come to my other child's aid hoping that they haven't lost an eye or anything. Luckily there's no blood. Just a bump. Thank goodness for angels and hard heads.

Now I'm caught up to today. I'm at church taking a child to the bathroom in the middle of Sacrament meeting. We are getting ready to go back in the chapel, I go to open the bathroom door and my child runs in between me and the door saying they want to do it. Too late! I have already given the door a hard yank because it's heavy and sticks and I watch helplessly as the door runs right into my child's bare foot. (They kept taking them off in the chapel and I hadn't put them back on for our potty break.) I know there is damage done before I even see it.

Their big toe is a bloody mass of skin and toe nail. I rush them to the sink and start running cold water on it. It doesn't look any better and my child is going into shock. Dang it!! I carry my child out of the bathroom and grab someone in the foyer to have them get my hubby. He come's out and we decide that I had better take the child home. While my hubby is taking the child to the car I grab my two year old from the chapel so he can manage the other 3 in my absence.

I get home and unload the children. My injured child is still in shock and I am sick from seeing how bad their toe is. I try my best to clean it up and put a bandage on it but the child won't have any of it. I give up and call my sisters in law to come over so I can take my child to Instacare.

As I'm waiting, I change my two year old out of their church clothes and get them ready for a nap (in their bed this time!) while my other child is sitting on the couch. By the time my sisters get here, my injured child has calmed down and is even trying to walk around. I decide we can wait on Instacare but I still go back to the church to grab the baby from my hubby so he can teach his Sunday School lesson.

I am really exhausted when I get back and I feed my injured child hoping they will get sleepy on a full stomach so I can get a nap. After laying down with my child for an hour and trying to get them to sleep, the rest of my family gets home from church and my nap time is history. My husband is also exhausted from fasting and we are in big trouble because someone has to take care of the children.

We both sit on the couch trying to rest but keep an ear out for the children. The radar in our children must be going off because eachtime I start to fall asleep, they start fighting, or bothering us. I drag myself off the couch and get the children a snack so Daddy can sleep. I feel like a drunkard as I try to dish up the food. Hopefully, I'll catch my second wind soon. And maybe a back rub too from my well rested hubby!!

I WANT TO GO THAAAAT WAAAAAAY!!!!

I am having no problems thinking up a catchy title for my blog this evening as the words are still ringing in my ears. It all started with a drive home from the store, late at night, and very very tired child and a headache from you know where. (Recipe for disaster!)

We went to Albertsons because I wanted to use some double coupons before they expired today. Well, we used to live right by the Albertsons and my child wanted to see our old house that we had already driven by on the way there. (The old house has been torn down and there is a duplex going on the lot.) I had a splitting headache and was feeling quite nauseous from it. (I should have taken some Tylenol like my hubby suggested.) You can imagine I wasn't up to another trip past the old house.

As we drove by the street that we should have turned on, my child starts wailing at the top of their lungs about wanting to go THAT WAY. OUCH my head. As we merge onto the freeway, their wailing evolves into hysteric and outrageous demands about wanting to go THAT WAY!! By this time I am ready to jump out of my van just to escape the pounding in my head. I try to explain calmly that I need them to quiet down because of my headache, but my pleading is in vain. Finally, (and ashamedly) I resort to unmentionable threats if they do not stop behaving in such a manner. I would be better off beating my head against a brick wall. (Hopefully it would knock me out and I would be rid of the headache.)

After what seemed like an eternity, (probably 10 minutes) we pull into our driveway and I warn my child to run as fast as they can to their bed before I get to them. (I feel terrible for some of the fitting punishments that were going on in my head at this point.) The child stands inside the van just wailing and wailing. I hit my breaking point and take them by the arm to escort them to their bed. They are still wailing. I can't take the noise anymore and then I discipline them (probably a little more harsh than I should have.) It is time for that Tylenol before I do anything I will regret.

The Tylenol finally kicks in and I gather my wits back together and I go back to my child who is still wailing and I ask their forgiveness and if they need a hug. There are just some moments that a mother can never explain and this was one of those. I got to snuggle with my child in a way that I haven't been able to in a very long time and I thank my Creator for allowing me to be a mother just so I can have moments just like this.

It Was Two Children, In the Laundry Room, With the Steak Knife!

Wow, it's almost been a week since my last post and not from the lack of things to write about. Due to the fact that I have been getting very little sleep, I have failed to stay awake after my children are in bed long enough to make an entry. I have made a few attempts, but I don't think my hubby would like it if I drooled on the keyboard after falling asleep mid typing. At least it hasn't been longer (like a year). Anyway, I hope that some people are enjoying my efforts. Comments are welcome. Here is another mother experience. I would love to hear some of yours if you are brave enough to tell!!

I have mentioned in a previous article that my children are very inventive. I must write about one such instance to demonstrate. Last Friday afternoon, I walk into my laundry room to put something away (probably dirty clothes). I put away what I need to and turn around to see one of my steak knives laying on top of my washing machine. How odd! (You would think after so many times I would stop thinking that and start knowing that my children are behind such things.) I pick up the steak knife to return it to the kitchen and see my cat coming out of our crawl space door right next to the washer. (We have a split level home and our entire main floor has a 4 foot crawl space for storage under it. It's all lit up and everything. I love it! The only way to access it is a door in the wall next to our washer.) Normally this door latches with a magnet, but no magnet is any match for a curious cat and 4 children so it is tied closed with a thick rope (for extra safety) to one of the shelf supporters above the washer. At this point I'm asking myself how they could get the rope untied and I go to grab the handle to pull the door shut again and hoping the cat has left no surprises in our crawl space. Finally, I notice the frayed rope still clinging to the door handle and a light bulb turns on (I wouldn't be surprised if you could actually see one over my head) as I realize my children have sawn through the rope with the steak knife. (And all this for a little ride on toy that they weren't supposed to have anyway and the toy isn't even under there.) My shoulders slump in surrender to the thought of what this entails. It's only a matter of time until they figure out that they can cut through the plastic fridge lock (my last hope of control). Heaven help me.