Halloween is so Lame!

I have a confession: I HATE Halloween!!!! And NO  not because its eeeevil(please say that in your best Church Lady impression)...I hate it, because it is LAME....

And if that makes me a bad-er mother, I mighty fine with that...

Maybe its that the rug rats were small when we lived on the prairies and trick-o-treating involved snowsuits, toques and frost bite...

Maybe its that I needed five costumes ever year and at least one of those costumes would get peed in, every single year (although we don't hold the $70 princess costume incident over Bailey's head much anymore)

Maybe its that the amount of candy 5 die hard monsters bring in, is enough to send our dentists son to college and drive me drink (I totally mean root beer)...

Maybe its that at least one of the rug rats (cough *Dallyn* cough) ends up with nightmares...because his sisters show him some SCARY movie and clearly they don't value my beauty sleep or their lives...

Or just maybe its that the not so Superman brings home enough discounted candy from work the day after to foil my plans of maybe swimming in public again.....

Or maybe its that I've lost complete control and this was the costume Dallyn came home with tonight....

 

Apparently he didn't hear the part when I said no masks (completely his money so what ever)...

 

Definitely not the plush monkey with the banana costume that made it through all five of the rug rats...

 

Halloween is so LAME

Shine On...

Yesterday was our ward's annual primary presentation...Honestly my favourite Sacrament meeting all year...This was my first time ever leading the music for the Presentation...I honestly wasn't (that) worried or nervous, I guess years serving in the church has taught me at least one thing...It  ALWAYS work out :)...

As I rushed to get ready that morning {How come nobody ever wakes up Mom??) I glanced at this hanging in our downstairs bathroom...I think the girls got them at Girl's camp a few years ago....

The perfect thing to remember as I walked out the door...

Favourite parts..

A little girl that laughed out loudly as we sang CTR....whole congregation laughed, could not keep from laughing myself...AWESOME (a girl after my own heart)

The little boy who said "God is the richest in outer space..." in his talk.

The three young girls who sang "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus" as a trio...and brought the spirit into the meeting like only children can.

The way our primary's voices soared on "When I am Baptised"

Primary Music Leader is the best calling ever!!!

The kids did amazing, a true reflection of not only who they are... but whose they are. It is such a privilege to be taught by them every single Sunday.

 

 

 

Just a little Faith (Grant's Post)

      So to start off I would like to tell you this is not Robin.  This is her husband, Grant.    I do have to just take one moment and tell you one thing.  Stories you have heard about me that may paint me in a less than a manly light have been greatly exaggerated.  :) I think to boost the ratings.  I really don't do that many silly things, say that many silly things or cry at all.  I AM A MAN, Manly man.  There,  glad I could get that out of the way....

     I skipped Church today!  There I said it.  Member of the bishopric and all,  I just couldn't go.  Spent a great day yesterday in Vancouver at the temple with the Youth from our ward and really enjoyed the day.  Felt the spirit and just enjoyed the peace the temple brings into our lives.  So what changed?  Why in 12 hours could I not go to church?  I will tell you my dirty little secret.  I am bipolar.  Wow,  there it is I said it.  This is the most public forum I have ever used to say that.  It is really terrifying actually to put that out there.  Some of you are going to get it and others won't.  You know what?  I am okay with that.

     So what does being bipolar and not going to church have to do with each other?  Sometimes nothing and sometimes everything.  I will tell you another little secret.  I hate crowds.  I hate having to put on a smile,  if I am feeling particularly down and pretending that all is okay.  It really grinds me.  So I avoid it and that is how I felt this morning when I woke up.  I just could NOT do it.   I was having a good weekend and then something changed and I just could not do it.  SO what changed?

      I will divert for just a moment and talk about something else for a moment.  I had a particularly hard day at church last week.  Someone said something that just grinded me hard.  Don't get me wrong this person had no idea it did or even knew the flaw in their logic.  I had relied on the same logic for years and unfortunately it got me no where. This person was talking about someone whom is chronically ill and not attending on a regular basis.  They basically indicated that the person was lacking the necessary faith to overcome and attend.  WOW. There are some fundamental flaws in that but I will not get into it right now.  I will tell you this.  If you are suffering from a mental disorder you best seek professional help.  No amount of extra scripture study or prayer is likely to cure you.  I know miracles happen, but sometimes they happen thru the proper care as well.  This is where I said some will get it and others will not.

       Let me be clear on one thing.  I have a deep and firm testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  I have seen the overwhelming evidence of God's mercy in my life.

"We must remember that we did come come earth to find our worth, we brought it with us." Ardeth Kapp. 

I have often felt worthless, useless and overwhelmingly sad, and on the other side of my bipolar I feel anxious, agitated, and angry.  I don't stay up late on my manic phases painting rooms or going on cleaning benders for days on end.  I feel anxious and agitated, anger flows freely and with out thought.  So where do I fit in in a gospel that preaches Christ like attibutes and I so often fail.  I say my prayers, read my scriptures, get priesthood blessings and also see a psychiatrist and take regular medications.  That's where I fit in.  It is not my lack of faith that keeps me ill but a lack of brain chemicals to balance out the load of human emotion.

       I am a child of God like you, I just need a little extra help.

 " I testify that no one is less treasured of God than another.  I testify that He loves each of us--insecurities, anxieties, self image and all.  He does not measure our talents; He doesn't remember our professions or our possessions.  He cheers on every runner, calling out that it is the race against sin, not against each other." Elder Jeffery R. Holland.


       "Our perfect Father does not expect us to be perfect yet.  He had only one such child.  Meanwhile, therefore, sometimes with smudges on our cheeks, dirt on our hands, and shoes untied, stammeringly but smilingly we present God with a dandelion--as if it were a  rose or an orchid.  If for now the dandelion s the best we have to offer.  He receives it, knowing that what we may later place on the alter.  It is good to remember how young we are spiritually." Elder Neil A. Maxwell.  


      So when your brother or sister stands at the alter sick and broken with their dandelion and you with your rose, do not question their lack of faith.  Embrace them, encourage them, maybe wipe away some of their smudges with your tears of joy that they are there at all.
      I would close with a little advice from a sick someone to all out there who may be suffering needlessly through overwhelming feelings of sadness or inadequacy.  Seek help!  You are not alone in this.

You Calling {*}Fat???

 

 

I was having an Awesome day...no seriously. I got up with my Seminary kids (and stayed up) and totally had the urge to clean (which may or may not have been encouraged by my Superman's slight wifely duty ;)  guilt trip) I had the main bathroom and three bedrooms cleaned before everybody left for school...

 

And just kept going.... Kitchen, Dining Room & Living room were finished by 11 and I was feeling AWESOME...

 

I even dug out underneath the couches in the Rec Room (the rug rats are nasty)...sorted the mail/paperwork...found my birth certificate and 5 pairs of finger nail clippers...Found the floor in the laundry room and sorted off my sewing table...swept the drive way...I had totally gone all  "Stetford Wife"..yay me...

 

Then I heard the garbage truck, running super late...I totally wasn't worried...I wasn't in my jammies...we only had one can...(Usually I'm racing out in pj's praying they will ignore the bag limit)...

 

For the first time ever...

They left the sticker and my garbage!!!

 

What the Heck!!! I looked at the tag..."You calling {my garbage} fat???"

 

As if..Come on, really??.... I then went to move the can....It wouldn't move...

 

Apparently the kids threw out 40 lbs of potatoes when the cleaned out the pantry, then crammed 3 bags of heavy garbage on top of it...

 

Brilliant!!

 

Now I have a very clean house...and fat garbage.

 

I guess we have a dump run in our near future....

 

 

You've Changed! The Blessing of Courage :)

“None of us is less treasured or cherished of God than another. I testify that He loves each of us-- Insecurities, anxieties, poor self-image, and all. He doesn't measure our talents or our looks; He doesn't measure our professions or our possessions. He cheers on every runner, calling out that the race is against sin, not against each other.”
― Jeffrey R. Holland, The Other Prodigal, April 2002

I heard this quote again in a Relief Society workshop several months ago...I have heard it used several times before, in many different settings, the "race is against sin, not each other" is the part that always stood out every other time I heard it. But this time I heard something I hadn't paid attention to before, stuck out ...

He doesn't measure our talents or our looks; He doesn't measure our professions or our possessions...

Okay I did understand the "looks" part and the "possessions" part before. But for the first time I heard "he doesn't measure our talents and professions part...I had not realized that before (It's that whole sleeping through Seminary thing, isn't it?). It gave me a lot of pause for thought...And that part of the quote has played on repeat in my mind many times over the last several months....

Rewind: My Superman is a busy man....Is the patriarch of a big family of teenagers who won't stop growing, showering, talking, eating, fighting or laughing....Is the first councilor in the Bishopric, a calling he loves and is (was) an Assistant Manager for the largest retailer in the world, a job that took 50-60-70 hours/ week, but a position he was proud of, and had worked hard for...

Then fifteen months ago an illness that we had thought was long behind us, reared its head (damn you :(: ) We knew things would have to change, but our main focus for that time was getting through this unwanted and unexpected relapse. My Superman hung on (by his finger nails) to his family, his faith, his calling and his job...

The loving support of friends and wise doctors made survival possible for all of us...

Back in early summer Grant sat in the doctors office overwhelmed with all that was piled upon his plate....As our wise doctor (this guy is amazing) listened he stooped Grant and said... "None of my happy pills will fix you...I couldn't even do all that you do (big family, demanding job, big Church responsibility) and I'm healthy...you have to make changes in your life and lessen the STRESS...more pills won't fix that, you have to fix that....

We talked longer..."church" to the doctor seemed like the easiest thing to drop...Grant and I knew that wasn't the answer for us, but completely understood how the DR would see it that way....Grant's calling to the bishopric has been one of our greatest blessing...it has been a blessing of protection and many times the only source hope we had...We left that doctor's office grateful, but overwhelmed by the choices ahead of us....

We were walking the several blocks back to Grant's work when he said..."Robin, It's the last day I can apply for the TLE manager at work." What?? No!!! You have worked so hard to keep your position...People will see it you stepping down...We can't afford it....I thought he had lost his mind (more ;)) I was so angry I turned and walked the opposite direction home as he said "Robin I know it's what I have to do"...As I cried all the way home that part of the quote, played on repeat in my mind...

He doesn't measure our talents or our looks; He doesn't measure our professions or our possessions...

Stop it!!!....My faith was the last thing I wanted thrown at me, in that moment I was too mad at my Super hero....But I really knew it was MY problem. I was proud of my husbands job and accomplishments I took great pride in that...It boiled down to my pride and what I thought others would think, instead of being worried about Grant's best interests first...I was worried about me and my fear of change....

By the time Grant came home several hours later I had calmed down enough to apologize and as he told me he had applied for the position, I felt a complete sense of calm and knew he had done the right thing....

The position switch has taken several months..... This is the first week Grant is the TLE manager, absolutely none of my worries have materialized...We will be fine financially, people at work have been nothing but understanding and I have watched my husbands stress level plummet...

He has every Sunday off now, is home for dinner(crap I now have to make it) and only works 'til 8 pm one night a week...

Blessings.....because Grant had the courage to make a change. I love that man.

Nobody Would Believe Us....

Warning: This post is honest. If honesty disturbs you. Don't read my blog, ever.... I wouldn't want to scare or offend you. You are already having too much fun in your perfect world:)

I do not share the following for pity....(The only pity I need, is the fact that the Superman and I didn't understand "family planning" and now have five teenagers under one roof ;))

Kelli and I say often...Nobody would believe us if we told them...What life for us was really like for us growing up....It's a best selling novel (which i will write, I'm serious), a hoarding reality show(which I watch when I need motivation to clean my house) and a bad day time talk show(the only thing than got me through the preschool years) all rolled into our reality...And no...even we don't understand it.....




Do you know what its like to drive you mother to the emergency room after she has made a complete arse of herself at a restaurant while out with her young Grandchildren....Eating her T-bone steak, like a chicken drumstick and flinging food everywhere, slurring her speech....She needed her stomach pumped, she had oded before we picked her up for dinner...It was Father's Day....

Or what it's like to pick up a Bacel margarine container, to throw it out and realize your mother had used it as a toilet...and then to find more than a dozen just like it, strung throughout her filthy home...Her explanation she was too tired.

Or what it's like to have to call the police, because your mother has disappeared....Police officers, K-9 units searched, her picture appeared on the 11o'clock news....We found her the next morning...getting her hair done...She had spent the night in a crisis bed for abused women (she wasn't one) "Well at least now, I know you care about me" her only explanation....

Or getting the call from ICU..."Your Mom is here on life support"  walking into her room while she is conscious, but still intubated...She writes on a white board "Why did you let me live!!"....

Or what it is like to have to sign the papers to commit your mother??

We do.

Do you know what it's like to have your father call 15 times a day and remember nothing???

Or, watching him shake uncontrollable because he can't get the wine bottle open fast enough?

Or, getting a call from Adult Protective Services???

Or, realizing that your father has nearly starved himself because he has forgotten how to eat or bathe or dress??

We do.

I don't even bother to ask why Kelli and I won such a lottery....But the reality is we were raised by two mentally ill parents in a home plagued by alcoholism and neglect. Not really the "Love at Home" reality one hopes for....

But in some unexplainable way we always knew we were loved. It was our normal and we had each other....

Somewhere in my teens I remember thinking "something is seriously wrong with her", But I knew nothing of Mental illness...even though we had spent our short life time living it...

Marriage for me and BYU for Kelli took us away. We were running.

Three years later Mom's diagnosis came....psychiatrists, hospitals and eight out of control years followed...Death brought stillness, but little peace.

That was eight years ago...

Three or four years later... we could no longer deny that Dad was self destructing, But our hands were tied as he pushed everyone and thing away. Every manner of help refused. Until the call from APS came, allowing us to bring Dad home in February...Dementia and lifestyle had taken an unreversable toll...He died on Good Friday.

Do you know what its like to walk into your mother's home, 6 month's after her death...With garbage bags, gloves and a dumpster and painfully sort thru mountains of garbage to find baby pictures and birth certificates and heirlooms?

Or eight years later,  six months after your fathers death walking into a home, you swore you would never return to, with gloves , masks and garbage bags and a dumpster and sort thru deplorable conditions to find something not destroyed by rodents or animals to remember your father by?

Kelli and I have been to hell and back with both our parents...It's something even we don't fully understand. But I can tell you that there is no consolation prize here...Trips to Disneyland, Inheritances, Heirlooms do not soften the blow. I know people mean well when they refer to such things as  benefits....But for me...its a sad reminder of their tormented lives. Sad compensation.



Our real compensation here: Strength and Hope in our lives now.  Instead of our upbringing destroying our lives it has solidified our faith. Both Kelli and I have been blessed with beautiful families, that do not resemble the chaos of our childhood. The legacy my parents leave is not that of their illness and dysfunction but reflected in the lives of their eight grandchildren....And their daughters. There is always hope.

The grief and pain is still tender for Kelli and I, hearts still ache especially when its quiet and still. Tears flow often. Understanding friends lighten the load. Those who say weird things,  just add to our ever  growing "How does it feel to be an orphan?" list of Dumb questions. AKA: What not to ask/say to those who have buried or are buring a loved one....

Doin' Disney

Disney is amazing...I loved going often as a kid. But have to admit taking my kids back (for the first time) twenty years later, was the best ever...It really is a magical place and our family needed this more than any of us imagined. Their smiles say it all!

 

 Wait for it.....

 BEST. PICTURE. of GRANT. EVER!!!! Makes me laugh every time I see it. Oprah, sad movies, Campbell's Soup commercials, and The Tower of Terror...Things that make superman cry....

Two wonderful, happy, fun days with my entire family. We so needed this.