The Plant?

broccoli, no cauliflower, no brussels sprouts???

 For Mother's Day the Elders Quorum gave out the ever so original plant . I ended up with five, I should of had a few more kids, I could of had a whole garden. The Elders Quorum did redeem themselves slightly when the big bowl of chocolates showed up just in time for Relief Society :)

Only thing is they are now surprise plants. You see on the way home, My superman hit a bump/stopped to fast ? and all the plants went flying off the dash...The plastic tags fell out and now we have now idea which ones are broccoli, cauliflower, or Brussels sprouts. they all look the same to me.....

I spent the first part of Mother's Day trying to pretend that I loved it  and the rest of the day failing miserably at pretending.

So many good things about that day:

Grant. Roses. Wow! Seriously wow!

My Dad's 7:45 am phone call "Do Canadians celebrate Mother's day today??" "Yes Dad we sure do.:)" Well then Happy mother's Day!"

The Rug rats showering me with gifts (especially the big bag of Skittles :)

The kind emails and messages from friends and family.

The hug from a friend in the hallway of Church...just saying she was thinking about me. (dang those people who see right through me)

Nolan (bro-in-law) calling to wish me Happy Mother's Day. I sure miss him and still can't believe he's getting married (bless you Maggie)


Failing miserably at pretending....

I realize I am the one who has the choice here.{After a long talk with my Superman, I hate it when he is right ;)} Mother's Day or any day for that matter is what I choose to make of it.

Yesterday I read an article called "Finding peace on Mother's Day". I love what she says....

I have learned that peace comes as we focus on the "given good" versus the "expected good" in our lives. If we focus on what we expected our mothers to be like, what we expected to be like as a mother or when we expected to be a mother, we will be disappointed.

However, if we focus on the "given good," the good qualities that our mothers have, the good qualities that we have, and the wonderful opportunities for mothering others that we have had, we can be at peace.

Read entire article HERE

So here's to better choices :) one day at a time.

And guess who's been playing with my camera....



Everyone Needs a Grandma Beena

I definitely won the Grandma lottery when I was born a Merrill. Everyone should have a Grandma Beena, if they did there would be a lot less trouble, maybe even world peace :)

Beena, Dad, and Kelli April 1994 (Grandma's 95th Birthday)

Lived in three centuries, Daughter of a Handcart Pioneer, 4' 10" spit fire. Grandma Beena was funny, I mean tears rolling down your cheeks, funny. I remember riding in the back of her 1963 Buick Wildcat, while she drove us around Cache Valley She sat on big cushions and always had a white paper plate on the dash ready to hold up to block the sun, she was too short for the visors to work. She was in her nineties, but nobody told her. She quit driving at 95 because the walk to the car got to hard (she could still out walk me with her cane)

Me (yes I'm pregnant with Alex), Beena and Mom Summer 1998

She always told us stories of hiding the coffee pot from the Home Teachers and Hanging her wash inside on Sundays. But we also knew she had a profound love and respect for her LDS pioneer heritage and faith.

Funniest Grandma Beena moment for me was when Kelli and I were older teenagers. We we visiting her apartment in the Senors Village. She was telling us her neighbour had recently passed away... We said Oh Grandma we are so sorry. "That's okay." she said "They didn't find her for a few days, They probably had to take her out with a shovel!" Kelli, Dad and I laughed 'til it hurt. I have laughed for years.

Beena and our gang April 1999 (Grandma's 100th Birthday)

Grandma was acquainted with heartache, knew how to stretch a penny, and could always find the brighter side of life. Terrified of snakes and thunder, seriously phobic.  She was kind. Even after my parents separated she still welcomed my mom into her home with open arms, that meant so much to me.

When Holly was born she gave me the best parenting advice any one could. "Raise your kids so other people can stand them!"  She always said  "The cure to any worry is work". Her life was a testament to that.

When Grandma passed away at 103, a cousin of mine said "She is the only 103 year old that you could say died unexpectedly" Beena has left a wonderful legacy. One I am honoured to claim.

Happy Mother's Day :)

"Happy" Mother's Day





Rug rats Summer 2001, Utah

  



WARNING: The following post is going to make me sound like some sort of mommy Grinch. (My heart could be three sizes too small but I've never had it tested ;) ...If you are that perfect mother I am refering to...please stop it you're making the rest of us look bad :)

 Okay, I promise to keep the eye rolling to a minimum this Sunday...Confession. I find Mother's Day rather cheesy. Its something I'm still working on,  my attitude regarding the honorary day has drastically improved as of late but there is a lot of room for improvement.

Okay a little background here. I was a young mom (5 kids by 25).While I very much wanted and loved my children. I found it way harder emotionally than I ever imagined. On the outside I was the budding "supermom" I thought I was supposed to be. Most people thought I totally had it together and for the most part I did. But on the inside, it was a completely different...I felt like a fraud and failure.
While I loved my children dearly...I really struggled with the monotony and exhaustion of it all. I found little happiness in changing diapers, cleaning up the avalanche of toys in the family room, or my 3 am alarm clock. The joys of motherhood were escaping me completely. Having my own less than conventional mother as an example, who also needed my mothering, gave my little to pull from. I was lost.

I would go to play group or to school and especially to Church and see "happy" mothers all around me and wonder how the heck I had missed the boat.

Mother's Day was torture. For some reason, at Church  they would always have the woman who had like 13  kids, baked cookies everyday, and had an immaculate home (you know the kind) speak. She would share how happy and fulfilled she was. How her perfect children excelled in football, french, pottery, musical theater and ballet and never spoke back...I would sit there with my rowdy gaggle, who I barely had gotten out the door with their faces washed, and try to keep the big old chip on my shoulder and excessive eye rolling from being obvious.

A few dear friends, kindred spirits really saw through my facade. They were farther down the parenting road than I was and gave me a reason to hope. It was the understanding nod as I drug an unruly rug rat out of Sacrament Meeting for the third time in half an hour. The Visiting Teacher who would spend an entire morning with me just talking reminding me that I was still capable of adult conversation. The neighbour who helped scrub paint off my brand new floors after my kids had spilt it and tracked it through the entire house, sharing all the crazy things her kids had done, making me feel human and normal. These friends are now family..when I think of how a mother ought to be I think of them.

So I have survived. The kids have survived. I do find joy in motherhood, even if the definition of joy had to be my own. I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything. I just wish I hadn't been so hard on myself.

Mother's Day is no longer torture. My children don't need that perfect mother, they just need me. Besides what mother could pass up the painted rock  and the burnt on the outside, undercooked inside pancakes in bed....

So "happy" Mother's Day!

Signed,

The Mommy- Day Grinch

Mr Jellyfish

So one of the older rug rats phoned just before school started today, begging to come home. Something about a headache, stomach ache thingy... So I am on the phone with our budding little hypochondriac, Telling her she must stay at school... My Superman, hearing my side of the conversation, chimes in "Tell her she has to stay" "She gets too far behind if she misses..." Said rug rat is now pulling out all the stops, I am now annoyed. So I call in the reinforcements and hand Grant the phone.

Grant goes all drill Sargent for about 15 seconds...then all of a sudden I sense it (I am sure this is were said rug rat turns on the water works)....Oh no. He's. CAVING...."Okay if you really need to....Where can I pick you up?" You're kidding me!  Not only is he allowing her to come home, he's providing personal valet service. Gotta love my Superman a.k.a. Mr. Jellyfish and his kids know it. :) I have to laugh because I was also the queen of the call home sick routine....

My mom said this poem written by Shel Silverstien was about me... I can still recite it word for word 25 years later :)

Sick

'I cannot go to school today, '

Said little Peggy Ann McKay.

'I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I'm going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I've counted sixteen chicken pox

And there's one more-that's seventeen,

And don't you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut-my eyes are blue-

It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I'm sure that my left leg is broke-

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button's caving in,

My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,

My 'pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose is cold, my toes are numb.

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?

What's that? What's that you say?

You say today is...Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play! '

Do You Know What You Have?

I have to admit, I watch friends (people not the show) who have both parents in their lives still, with admiration, longing and a little bit of envy. I hope you know what you have, and Cherish it, I often think. Its not that I am bitter or jealous, actually far from it. It's just that my journey with my mom and now my dad have taught me to value family.

Instead of talking with my dad about the crazy antics his teenager grandchildren are up to, I am answering questions like. Now when is your birthday? Now where does Grant work? Now how long ago did your mom die? over and over again.

Instead of my Dad enjoying retirement....I hear the anger, confusion and frustration in his voice as struggles through his mail or tries to make an appointment.

Instead of imagining what exotic trip he might plan next I am wondering if he is still able to care for his daily needs, will he remember how to get back from the grocery store?, I can't remember the last time he was able to visit with a friend or go to a concert? who is going to call me next expressing worry and concern ? How do you help some one who refuses all help?

At what point is enough, enough? At what point do we force the issue. At what point do we parent our parents. I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could just pretend like every thing's FINE, and it doesn't bother me. But it does, a lot sometimes.

I feel so sad for him, I feel a deep since of loss for the man he once was. I am really beginning to hate having to go through the long good bye a second time.

So cherish your parents and no I am not wearing rose coloured glasses, thinking that everyone else's situations and relationships are perfect...I am sure they are for from it. Just cherish what you have.  Ask lots of questions. Find out as much as you can about them. The good, the bad and the crazy. There may come a day when that information is no longer at your fingertips...

I spent almost a year, several years ago asking my Dad a few questions about his life, each time he phoned. I kept a note book by the phone and jotted down his responses. I now treasure that information. So will his grandchildren.

It is sad, but regardless I have a very fulfilled and blessed life. My parents reality does not determine my destiny.  That's entirely up to me :) .......Plus, blogging is cheaper than therapy :)

Next post will be how Robin nearly broke ker own finger today....I know, I can't wait either :)

The "NOT ME" Monster

Ever since my two youngest could talk we have had an additional house guest, Its called the NOT ME Monster. You see if something is broken or spilt or misplaced etc and I don't see it happen the rug rats have instant on set amnesia. They have no idea WHO did it. It's always NOT ME! I have tried to evict NOT ME for years with no success....

Today NOT ME was working overtime.....

First I go into the kitchen after all the kids left for school, somebody brilliant, probably NOT ME, had wrapped a bike lock chain around the fridge and freezer door handles...Nobody knew the combination to get it off...so all day if you wanted to open one door you had to open both. Beyond annoying....

Second as I looked down the stairs I realize somebody, NO ME again had splattered a brown sticky substance down all four walls of the staircase. My guess is root beer.But one can never be sure, all I know is its splatter capacity was superb. I don't think I could make root beer go 18 feet in the air if I tried. But then again I am only Kramer by marriage.

 After scrubbing for more than an hour I think I got it all...and about an hour after the rug rats returned from school the bike lock magically disappeared from the fridge...Thanks NOT ME, if I could only teach you to sort socks or wash windows well then maybe...

Roastin' Wienies :)

Last night we had Sunday dinner, west coast style....a wienie roast on the beach. Other than it being quite breezy it was great.

Guess which kid didn't want their picture taken?? If you guessed Holly you get the sticker :)