Stories

We had an enrichment meeting at This is the Place monument last week. Three women told the stories of three pioneers, their happiness and hardships. At the end they challenged us to record our stories. It was inspiring. So here I am. Recording my stories. In a way those pioneers never would have imagined. I used to be an avid journal writer. And then I wasn't anymore. Until this blog came along. And it is not perfect. Sometimes I say too much and sometimes I say too little. Sometimes I over-analyze and edit my thoughts away and sometimes there is nothing to say and I try to say it anyway. But it is better than nothing. And that is what counts.

Today feels like one of those nothing to say days. At least not one thing in particular. Just a lot of things all jumbled together. Extra jumbled lately. It's to do with the pregnancy. Did I mention I'm pregnant? I am. It's kind of exciting really. I tried not to think about it at the beginning. But now, there's no denying. I have a big, round belly. And a baby girl squirming around, reminding me. Sometimes I think of that little babe and feel all kinds of giddy. (When I am not obsessing about all the weight I am gaining. Obsess, obsess.) But really, the giddiness trumps the obsessiveness every so often and I can't wait to meet this new little girly of ours. Can't wait for Paige to have a sister and Brooks to be a big brother and my boys to find another reason to be tender and loving. And then there's the fact that newborn babies are my favorite thing in the whole world. Don't they smell like heaven? Can't wait.

So, aside from these manic episodes of giddiness and obsessiveness, life is there in between. I am really loving Jeff lately. I always love him, right now I just LOVE love him. He is so nice and patient and tolerant of all my giddy obsessiveness. It's not always easy. He listens and talks and tells me just
what I need to hear. And then he holds my hand or smiles at me in just that way, and I feel better. Just like that. Love him.

The other 4 Blackminnies are hit and miss. They are lovely and not in fairly equal parts. Brooks wakes up every morning and I want to eat him up as we snuggle in my bed. He lets me kiss his cheeks over and over and he giggles and squeals. It is just the two of us and he is my baby again.  It's my favorite time of day with him. And then as the afternoon rolls around he reminds me he is 3 and he gets tired and grumpy and I get tired and grumpy too. Just in time for Jeff to come home from work and rescue us both.

Then there's the girly. Paige is Paige. Oh, how I love that little girl. She is the sweetest daughter, so affectionate and loving. She tells me I am pretty and that its ok if I'm chubby because there's a baby in my tummy ;) And she means it. Until I say no. Or ask her to brush her teeth. Or make her eat yogurt instead of cookies for breakfast. And then I am not her favorite at all. I am mean and she does not like me one bit. Until she does again.

She and Owen share this sentiment. They love me and hate me several times a day. Owen is passionate. It's a great quality to have. And a hard one for an 8 year old to live with. He does everything in extremes, super happy and really angry. The middle ground would be an easier place to live. But that's never been Owen domain. He is my very best helper, wants to please me and impress me and love me. Until I frustrate him. Or don't listen to him. And then there is a lot of grunting and stomping involved. But one day soon, he will not be 8. And he will figure out that this passion he has is a really great thing. He will learn how to use it. And we will all be amazed at what he can do. I just know it.

It's part of being a parent, that intuitive knowing you have about your children. I learned this with Jeffrey. For all of Owen's extremes, there is the opposite in Jeffrey. He is so laid back, so happy and easy to please. He loves without condition. It is his best quality. He will talk and talk and yell a little and talk some more until I yell a little to get him to stop talking. And  then he will tell me he loves me in his next breath. Never skipping a beat. It's frustrating and wonderful all at the same time.

So, there's the lowdown. I think it's important to think about the relationship I have with my husband and my children. It's always changing, that is part of our story. Someday I will look back and remember how they were and how I was. Remember that closeness that we have while they are still so young and need me in ways they won't as they grow older. They will be sweet memories that make up the story of our life.