Three Stories/Messages, I've Been Pondering a Lot

I want to write these down, because the details are fading from my memory and I don't want them to disappear completely without a trace.

Sometimes certain things really strike me as truth. Like "That's it." A light bulb, a-HA moment if you will. I know everyone has these. It can be listening to others speak, it can just be pondering things on your own and suddenly something makes sense. Well I wanted to share three that I really liked, before I forget them again.

The first was the longest ago. Maybe three or four years. I think it's when Sam and I were living in my parent's ward. We were in sacrament meeting. I can't remember if it was a talk given...I think it was. I'll say woman A was telling us about this, in a talk.

Here's the mottled, general idea: this woman (woman B), in a different sacrament meeting, had either been speaking or listening to someone else speak...I can't remember which. But she felt drawn to this other woman (woman C) in the meeting. (Either the one that was speaking, or someone in the congregation who was crying as she spoke.) Somehow she figured out that...I can't remember if this family had just moved somewhere, I don't think that's what it was. But there had been black mold all over most of their possessions. Is that the dangerous kind? The dangerous kind. Once it'd been discovered, they had to get rid of just about everything.

I think there was something else to it too, like the breadwinner of this C family was out of work or...you know. Something sad.

Anyway woman B? She felt strongly that she should just, give woman C most of her furniture. She didn't go buy her some, she gave the family her own. (I think she was an empty nester herself, and woman C had kids at home.) So she took, straight out of her living room, all these couches and end tables...I think it went so far as emptying extra bedrooms of most of their furniture as well, and the kitchen table.

I can't remember the details! But here's the thing: she didn't buy new furniture for like, over a year. She and her husband just went without. I don't even think they had to, monetarily; they just did. I think they had a few folding chairs but not much else.

So woman A, telling the congregation I was a part of about this story, was a relative of woman B. And she said woman B didn't tell anyone about this, didn't seek recognition for her generous act. In fact, they had a family gathering to celebrate something at woman B's house. And the family, upon seeing there was almost no furniture in the home, asked her about it and were (understandably) quite surprised. They mostly ate on the floor, or found camping chairs or boxes or odd things to sit on. But woman B wasn't embarrassed or anything, and she basically said something along the lines of "oh, we don't need it" in response.

I LOVE this. I think I've mentioned my love/hate relationship with pinterest, because I love the idea of making a home beautiful with limited funds and some elbow grease, but I hate that it's made me self conscious about the way my own house may appear to others. And in this story, the woman's not only willingness to give of what she possessed, but also her lack of embarrassment! SHE knew what mattered. SHE was truly living as Christ would have lived.

Story #2: This I heard in a Relief Society meeting, when I was attending church at my brother Nate's ward when they were living in Provo. Again, it's a bit fuzzy...this one was more like a year ago though. And it's shorter anyway. So hopefully with it being heard more recently and it's length, you'll get the general gist.

I can't remember if the woman sharing this comment was the recipient or the one giving...but a woman, around 30, stood up and told of this woman in the ward (herself or her visiting teacher, I can't recall which) who had felt prompted to take dinner to her visiting teachee's house. And she felt flustered and embarrassed, cause she wasn't prepared for such, but she humbly took over a frozen pizza (still frozen) at about 7:00. When they answered the door, she was all apologies; she knew they had young kids and eating dinner after 7:00 can be super late for young kids, and all it was was a frozen pizza and she wished she had something more impressive to offer. Etc. Etc. But they were SO grateful for it!

I like this story for a similar reason: sometimes, I feel like I only will have worth if I do things that are impressive. That's a lot of different feelings summed up in a nutshell, I think. If I dress the best, if my kids are the best behaved, if I do the best crafts with them, if I am the most social (totally not my nature), if I have the most beautiful house, if I cook the most exquisitely.

In my mind I am PASSIONATE about people understanding that their worth is not something they earn, or that can be taken away by their or others' actions; it is God-given, and not going anywhere. But it is one thing to say such, to even feel such some of the time...and to keep it in mind when feelings of inferiority sneak in without me realizing it.

So I am, through and through, the pizza woman. I basically never am on top of things. (I was finally showered and dressed at 11:15 today, for example. My hair dried by 11:30. But it's dried! That's impressive for me!) I'm forgetful and have a hard time with ranking priorities. But I love that this story makes me feel like: I don't have to be the best cook! Or the best anything! My less-than-perfect offering is still one worth making. (I talked about this in my last lesson, just that last line...funny how I can forget to internalize well these things I so desperately want my girls to understand.) And I think, as time goes on, I'll hopefully grow to be better at some of the things I wish to be better at...but it won't be because of guilt or shame. Because as I am is worthwhile, too. Currently.

Story #3 isn't even a story, and it isn't really the same message as the first two. It was just a couple lines, uttered a couple of months ago, by a woman in my ward. She has such a soothing voice, let me tell ya. It's a pleasure to hear her speak, honestly. But that's beside the point: she started off her talk with a story about washing the dishes as a young mother (she's now in her forties I think, with grown children) with her baby playing at her feet. And this wasn't the point of the story but she said something to this effect, in passing, about washing dishes, "It's something I used to hate, but learned to love to do."

She didn't say this proudly; in fact, it wasn't even her point. (The point she did make with the story, which was about following the Spirit, was excellent as well, btw.) But this stuck out to me because, how often do I view things this way? Learning to love to do the things I currently hate doing, that I consider necessary? How often do I even TRY to adopt this? I do try to get better at the things I hate doing, I think; but do I really try to love them? I don't know. Did she? With persistent effort and a determination not to view it in a negative light anymore?

Sometimes messages kind of like this can make me feel bad, like "Great, I have TWO steps further to go. I not only need to get good at it, I need to get good at it and then LIKE it. Oi vey."

But this one didn't. Perhaps it was the gentility of the speaker, or the lack of judgment in the delivery of the message. Or something else. Whatever the reason, I was grateful to have that to think on. Learning to love washing dishes.

Pregnant with a third child? Whatevs. ...Really?

It's been interesting, being pregnant with a third. I honestly thought in some ways it wouldn't be that exciting. Maybe part of this is because I have a boy and a girl, so it seemed I'd hit what many seem to hope for. One of each!

I was surprised, and delighted, to discover that hasn't been how it is at all. Maybe I had a spell at the beginning where it wasn't that exciting, and I wasn't loving feeling sick really early this time...but I got an ultrasound where they dated me at six weeks, five days. And already, that little sea monkey had a heartbeat.

I wish I could describe sufficiently the joy this knowledge brought on. It's weird, seriously. The thing is minuscule at that point. And what am I fussing about, I already have kids. But it really hit me then. "I really am growing a baby."

There is something truly magnificent about a human life, I think. Thrilling. Miraculous. Bizarre. I mean how the heck?! How would you describe making a human child, if it were in terms of a cookbook.

Need:
1 egg
1 sperm
Directions:
Mix well; leave to rise for 9 months. Enjoy your HUMAN BEING!

It boggles my mind, that after I just go about life doing whatever, albeit slightly differently (nausea, exhaustion, discomfort blah blah) afterward a person comes out. With their own eyes, and nose, and stomach and liver and heart and brain and personality.

I know lots of people don't believe in a God, and that's their choice. But I hope they still feel the miracle, feel how astounding and incredible, this is. Life. Because it really just fills me with wonder. And...warm fuzzies.

So when I've told people I didn't find out the gender of this one, even though I could have at 16 weeks, they tell me "I guess you've got one of each!" As if why would I care? Same old, same old. I already have a boy and a girl, this one's just kind of a bonus. And I mumble agreement, hesitantly.

Really though...I can't wait for my 21 week ultrasound next Wednesday. (I didn't have one five weeks ago cause I'm cheap, and didn't want to pay the out of pocket for a Gender Check Ultrasound, not because I don't care.)

Seriously. I can't wait to find out everything I can about him/her. I love hearing it's heartbeat every OBGYN appointment I go to. I love the new feeling I've had, of it moving around. I love ticking off every week on my calendar, to the 24 week point mainly, because I've always had a sense of peace at this point (that being the age where babies have survived outside of the womb). And I love, more than knowing the gender, knowing that everything is developing as it should and my baby is okay. Because man. I want this baby to be okay.

I am PUMPED to have a third child. It doesn't mean less because there are others who've come before it; it matters because it has it's own worth, independent of where it falls in a family line up or how many of its gender has come before (or may come after).

So yeah, it's my third. But it's still amazing.

What I'd tell 16 year old Ariel, now.

A friend of mine just posted what she'd try to tell herself, if she could go back to herself 10 years ago. I thought this was a fun idea...it's hard, though. There are mistakes I wish I could prevent, and yet a lot of those lead to important things. I wouldn't want to drastically change that much...but some things I suppose would be nice. So here's what I'd probably say:

Girl, you are a daughter of God. Do you know how important that is? How worthwhile that makes you? You don't have to prove anything more to anyone, about being interesting enough or attractive enough. That's plenty.

Enjoy dating. Don't stress about it! Don't worry about compatibility or crushes too much (though I know this is easier said then done), but just try to have fun activities. Be brave, you can ask guys out even if it isn't girl's choice dances! It can all be in good fun. And remember: the worse the date, the better the story it'll make someday. :) Be FEARLESS. (But not unwise, don't go out with guys that don't have your same standards.)

Go to Adam's wrestling matches. That's just nice, friends going to each other's events to be supportive. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.

I know school is hard: see a counselor about it. Explain what makes it so hard. Explain about the anxiety and the weird, self-destructive procrastination behavior and the feeling like you're going to scream if you try to do homework too early. People can help. Medicine can help. It's worth the effort.

Get in the habit of reading your scriptures every day. Please? Use a timer if you need. You'll be so much happier once this habit is established.

No more lame tv. No more Disney Channel. WASTE OF TIME. Try not to watch any tv, unless you've specifically planned ahead for that one thing. And then one episode a day is plenty.

I know it's fun to flirt and worry about who likes who...but try to develop some hobbies that have absolutely NOTHING to do with any guys, or the potential of guys being interested in you just cause you have these particular hobbies. Try to find things that you love to do that have no connection to romance. Because eventually, in a stable relationship...flirting for the sake of flirting won't seem like much of a hobby anymore. (Not to call you a ridiculous flirt, you aren't. But you'll be happier finding things you love just on their own, with no connections to others.)

Enjoy your time with Dave at home. He's a pretty great kid. Do stuff with him on Sundays.

Don't let that one friend get you down. She's just really depressed. (Not the pathological liar, the other one.) You don't have what can help her, I'm afraid. It's not worth making yourself sad over, too. And she doesn't appreciate your efforts, she resents them. So...it really doesn't make sense to make yourself unhappy about it. Enjoy her unique personality, but don't let the discouragement spread.

The grass is not really greener on the other side. Try to enjoy this time. Stop barely enduring high school: there's a lot of stuff that could be considered really interesting, if you'd let it. Take a lesson from Laura that way. School's not so bad.

I know it's hard to know what to major in, in college. You'll be discovering something you really enjoy soon. And it's great...but did you know a lot of trade schools will pretty much pay your tuition if you're still in high school? It'd be good to acquire a degree or certificate or knowledge, in something that could actually be a real job someday. Even if you don't LOVE it, if you like it enough. You can consider it a backup: but get this backup. Like, this summer.

OR...you know you love organizing. Why don't you try to 'intern' with a professional organizer during the summer? I think you'd love that. Come on now. Give it a shot.

I know you've made a commitment not to date exclusively in high school, which is a great commitment! Keep it. Also committing to not kiss someone unless you're in love with them is a good call. But I want you to make another one: no making out until you're married. Seriously. I just said that. MARRIED. It sounds ridiculous and will make you feel alone and distant in some ways, from the kids who seem to be no worse off for making out right at the age you are...but honey, this will lead to more heartache than any other mistakes you make. Because once you've let the physical in, it's hard to keep it from dominating. And it's hard not to feel really committed to someone, like you've given them your whole heart, once you reach this point. Just...please, don't. You know better. And don't let peers, now or in college, bother you about it.

Don't ever start swearing. It's okay you're proud of the limited number of times in your life you've let yourself curse. That's wonderful. Don't change it. Especially not to try to impress or seem more compatible with a guy. Who doesn't really even curse himself. Come on, sista. Don't be stupid.

Learn how to clean and cook now. Check out the books "Miserly Meals" and "Sidetracked Home Executives(TM): From Pigpen to Paradise." It'll save you some arguments and stress later on, for SURE.

Tell Rachael to stay away from Cole. STAY AWAY FROM COLE. He will end up falling away from the church and break her heart. His demons (which he won't tell her about) will come back and rule his decisions later on. You'll understand someday.

When you find yourself being pursued by two fellows named Joe and Chris...don't go out on more than two dates with either of them. And then choose Joe. [Side note I wouldn't tell her: this is because Joe and I aren't compatible, and if I'd chosen Chris I may never have met Sam.] It isn't worth the hatred you'll get from their roommates, or hurting their feelings, or the frustration you may feel toward Cecelia in the midst of these happenings.

Learn shorthand, seriously. It will make college a MILLION times easier. (I'm guessing. Since I never did...)

On top of that, take some note taking classes before you begin college. And time management.

Stop comparing your life to teens in movies. Yours is great. You have a family that loves you, good friends, you're a pretty girl and you have a good head on your shoulders. Again, don't feel like you need to be anything more than yourself. Yourself is plenty. And you'll find a great guy that recognizes it someday. (More than one, even, you lucky lady! You get to pick one.)

I love ya. Many people do. You're doing great, and you will continue to. :)

Humbled

We went to Walmart this morning, and at check out found our total to be $140. 'Whoa!' I thought. Ah well; I had bought a bit of makeup, new swimsuits for the kids, some diapers and wipes, socks, tights, and new sippy cups. I also bought a mix I could pan fry for dinner, and 2 lbs. strawberries as we were passing the grocery area.

After we had lunch at Subway, eating some of the new strawberries along with the foot long we split, we got packed into the car and were on our way.

Then we passed some beggars or 'panhandlers.'

I'm somewhat embarrassed to say, I almost never stop for them. In fact, I've done almost the opposite many times, avoiding eye contact and even locking the doors a couple times.

I hear about all sorts of stories of people that actually make quite a lot of money doing what they're doing, and how they're made out to be villains because they're begging. Here is an article about panhandling in Utah, and you can see in the comments how most people feel about it...

...but this time, it wasn't just a single man or a man and woman, it was a man, his (very) pregnant wife and two small children. The daughter looked to be about Jori's age, and the son about a year younger. They were at a van, with Calfornia license plates on it. Their sign said "Please help, need food and gas." Or something like that. The man was holding the sign, and truly looked ashamed. He was staring at the ground. I would guess they were of Indian descent. (Not Native American, India Indian.)

I drove past them at first...then had a feeling that I was missing out on a teaching opportunity. So I turned back, told Jori what was happening and ran the strawberries (minus the ones we had eaten) over to them.

It was truly humbling. The kids started talking at once, excitedly, as soon as they saw the strawberries. And as I drove past, afterward, I saw the wife already eating some. I just felt...just floored. I had just spent all this money, on things that are worthwhile but...I mean how far could $140 go to someone in a truly desperate situation?

I still felt like I hadn't done enough though. I'd told Jori we were going to give some food to people in need, but she hadn't really seen it from where I'd parked.

So I flipped around AGAIN, and this time got Atticus and Jori out, each with a $5 bill in their hands. We walked over together, and gave the money to the wife and one of the kids. Each of the little ones were also eating strawberries, and looked like they'd eaten a fair number in the three minutes it took me to get back to them again.

I know there are a lot of dishonest people who ask for money out there, and that there are a lot that have addictions and even criminal histories. I know a lot of people lie. But I didn't ask this family their story; there was no need. I really don't need to know what exactly they do with that ten dollars.

Really, I just felt profoundly grateful to do something that felt really right, and with my children. It made me hope to continue to give. Even if the money is used for drugs. I read in a YA Fiction book one time, of this young man giving money to a younger man, and the girl he was with said "Why did you do that? He's only going to use it for drugs." And he said "That means he's one step closer to hitting rock bottom, which is necessary before he can start climbing up."

Also, even if the people do have criminal histories. Must be hard to get a job with a criminal history, don't you think?

And ESPECIALLY if they do have kids there with them. I do know it's manipulative to have children there, I know some people really hate that. But whether you agree with the parents, the children are real. The situation must be pretty desperate if they are being used to ask for money.

Grateful to be able to give, today.

How many jobs have you had?

In some ways...it's a good thing I'm a stay-at-home mama. Employment wise. I think I have a current resume, but I never include ALL the jobs I've had on there. I know employers don't like seeing that. But I always found it easier to find two part time jobs than one full time, when I only had 6 months I could work anyway. And I liked variety. If I was going to have a super low-paying job anyway, why not do a different one than I did last time, right?

Would you like to hear? I'd like to reminisce, so I'll share regardless. I'll start with my first:

• May 2006: Library Page for Provo City (Book sorter and shelver)
• Office Clerk at a Student Housing Property Management Company
• Waldenbooks Bookstore employee (met a boyfriend at this one)*
• Library Page (2nd time)*

• Allen's Grocery Store: Non-foods Department Employee*

• *= I worked these three at the same time. For about five months before I left for college and after I had just graduated high school, I worked 50-60 hour work weeks. Busy bee! It was made easier because I genuinely loved everyone I worked with, at all three jobs. That was crazy lucky.

• Subway Sandwich Artist (Rexburg)
• Subway Sandwich Artist (Provo, I had to get re-hired and it wasn't a transfer thing, so I think they count separate)
  
• DownEast Basics clothing store employee (Two days. SO. BORING. They'd have cameras around to make sure their employees were doing something at all times, but if there was nothing to do you had to pretend you were doing something of value. If I'm at work, I'd rather do something!)
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Library Page (3rd time)
• Daycare/Preschool Teacher
  
• Call Center Tech (Two days again, got a more preferable job)
• Gas station/movie rental place employee (liked the job, the women who worked here hated me though for some reason. Awful)
• Rock Climbing Gym employee (No pay. Ha. But I got to climb whenever I wanted, and since I wanted to learn how to climb this was nice. I don't tell most people about this job though cause I hadn't climbed before and haven't really since...it was just a fun college thang)
  
  
  
  
• Gift wrapper, during the holiday season at BYU
• BYU-Idaho Library employee
• Office Clerk at same place (so, 2nd time)
  
• Evening childcare provider for the Provo School District's ESOL program. (Best paying job I ever had...it was $11.79/hr, in June of 2011.)

Bam! 17 jobs (or 14, depending how you count it) in 5 years. Which I know isn't really something I should be proud of. But it sure gave me a nice variety! 

I also interned with the Division of Child and Family Services the summer Jori turned 1, for my BYU major requirements. That was hard, but informative. I just shadowed folks though so I didn't get paid. 

You know the only thing that I've ever really loved doing that would probably count as work, though? Thinking of career potential? Organizing. I used to have a real...pep, for it. Particularly making everything fit (well, practically) in small spaces. (Note: cleaning is a totally different thing. Cleaning involves scrubbing, wiping, etc. And Picking Up is putting things where they go. Organizing is DECIDING where they go.)  I always thought it a shame I couldn't really pursue this in the way I wanted to. Not like they offer it as a major in college, or it pays all that well. And I don't think I'd enjoy organizing for super wealthy people, with tons of space. There's no satisfaction there. 

I also have a real passion for adoption as an alternative to an abortion, and really enjoy helping people figure out where they belong (employment wise or otherwise), so I am slightly curious if any of these things ever yield an actual paycheck. I guess we'll see.

What does your work history tell about you?

Moving

One of my favorite people is moving six hours away. I'm really excited for her, I mean they have four kids and her husband is finally graduating and they got a job and even just bought a house in their soon-to-be new area...I'm just bummed to be losing a close friend. And bummed Jori's losing a couple, too. (She gets along well with their oldest and their second oldest, who is only three days younger than she is.) I wish it wasn't so hard to find friends like these ones. I was reading some Austen-y material and it says "bosom friends" frequently. I'm definitely losing that. BAH. Life. 

It was kind of funny though, in chatting she said something like "I just wish in all these moves, we could just take our favorite people from each move with us, and then all live in the same spot." And I've totally fantasized about something similar. Having all of my favorite and Sam's favorite people in one cul-de-sac or block or something, with no children being without a playmate and everyone getting along awesome. 

Sometimes being shy by nature makes making close friends particularly difficult, so when one has been found and then lost...oh bother. 

Maybe someday we'll be millionaires and can buy up a whole chunk of land somewhere beautiful and green, where jobs of all sorts of varieties are plentiful and then we can build a ton of houses after consulting with friends on what is their dream home, and then they can live in them. Perfect. 

Or maybe I'll finally learn that "Bloom where you're planted" idea. I guess we'll have to wait and see. 

Ouchie!

Atticus wins as the first Hatchling to have to visit Urgent Care. Give the kid a trophy!

He was outside, playing in the sandbox after he'd finished his breakfast, and Jori was eating her breakfast. Sam had just left for work. I thought this the perfect time to sneak away upstairs, to brush my teeth and put in contacts for the day. Then I heard him crying downstairs. So I hopped back downstairs, and he was crying, somewhat under the table and next to Jori's chair, just sitting. It really wasn't an alarming cry, any more than usual bumps and scrapes that are typical of his 20-month-old days. But then I noticed blood all over his neck...

and then where the blood originated, on his scalp...

...and promptly fainted. 

Just kidding. I handled it like a boss, I thought. I'm grateful it wasn't worse, because then I really would have been a nervous wreck. I've got one queasy stomach, lemme tell ya. But I wetted a washcloth with cold water, held it to his head and the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. His tears dried up with a mama-Atticus-blankie sandwich, as they often do. But after examining it briefly, I once again dashed upstairs to snag my phone and call mom. 

TO THE RESCUE! 

Thank goodness my mom lives 8 minutes away. She arrived soon, evaluated it, and stayed with Jori when I took my little man to the Springville Urgent Care. 

Poor lad received four staples, but it's only for a week so I think he will live. I got him and Jori sodas on the ride home, and he was delighted enough with his Root Beer I think he thought the injury worth it.

It's like when I was a teenager, my mom would always take me to Arby's after orthodontist appointments. Sometimes, for some sweet curly fries, sacrifices have to be made.