Category: Fulfillment

Motherhood shouldn’t just be a drudgery. Find fulfillment in your most important calling–mother.

Categories
Fulfillment

Tending the grass

You have to constantly remind yourself that your grass is greener than the grass on the other side because you have tended it with love and care.

from a comment on The next stage of life

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but life is a package deal, and when it comes down to it, we wouldn’t want to trade our package for anyone else’s.

So what can we do to tend our own grass?

A few ideas:

How do you tend your grass?

Photo by Stephen

Categories
Fulfillment Faith

Just a reminder

I was scrolling through my feed reader a while ago. I saw my usual spate of stories from the LDS.org homepage. For some reason, they’re always just titles, no content in the posts. But I like getting them. Especially when the message is something as simple as this:

And you do: you’re a mom.

What reminds you that you matter?

Categories
Fulfillment

Living your dreams now

This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Beginning with Blogger

Maybe I just follow too many fans of the Catholic Register (or just Jen at Conversion Diary), but I’ve heard such good things about Simcha Fisher. However, I don’t think I’d read anything by her until my dad sent me a link to her article “The Time to Thrive Is Now“:

Certainly the “trenches” of motherhood are a time of sacrifice, and a woman in that phase of life can drive both herself and her family crazy by trying to have the same lifestyle as her neighbor whose youngest child is 12. It would be hard for, say, a mom with a baby and a toddler to do everything on the list above. But I think we’ve thrown the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak, and in many cases the message has morphed from “you shouldn’t try to do too much when you have young children,” to “you shouldn’t try to do anything when you have young children.” And I think that that’s a problem.

It’s definitely true that raising children is a bit time consuming 😉 . But I think Simcha is right—there perception in popular culture has shifted from “time consuming” to “all consuming.”

I am a mother. 24/7, always on call, never get a vacation mom.

But while my children are so much of my life—figurative and literally—I am still a person. I have three small kids, but I can do more than just change diapers, ready preschool books and sing “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” (It’s a fave.)

I have dreams—the big one of writing, of course. In the last four and a half years, I’ve written seven novels (hoping to make that eight soon). While having one two three kids at home full time or nearly so. Some of my dreams will have to wait until my children are older—but my whole life doesn’t have to wait.

What are you doing to capture your dreams today?

Categories
Fulfillment

February From the Archives

Digging waaaay back into the archives—today is the second anniversary of my husband’s and my first kiss. (Remember, it’s a special day.)

With five years of blogging about finding fulfillment in motherhood, I have a lot of favorite posts on the subject—and not enough days left in February to cover them all! Here are some more fulfillment posts from Februaries past.

Categories
Fulfillment

February from the archives: Why I really chose to be a mother

We’re looking back at some of my favorite fulfillment posts from the last five Februaries. This one is also from 2009.

All kidding aside, I did choose to have children and it (obviously) had nothing to do with the laud, praise and reward I receive everyday when I leave the house.

I knew I would be a mother my entire life. It was what I was supposed to do—go to college, get married and have kids. My husband was raised with the same life plan (plus “get a productive job” somewhere in there).

I know that we come to this earth to receive a physical body that is necessary for us to learn and progress, and I know that part of God’s plan for our eternal happiness is having children.

When I was a teenager, my mother was trying to get me to go to a midweek church activity. She argued that this was our Heavenly Father’s plan for my happiness. I retorted, “Then it’s not working!” Sometimes, though I know God designed parenthood for our eternal happiness, I still want to shout “It’s not working!”

Before I had children, I knew it would make us happy. Since I’ve had children, there have been a lot of times where I was too tired or overwhelmed or annoyed or hormonal or otherwise off-kilter to remember that—and I think that is a big reason why I started this blog.

It’s too easy for me to forget that I wanted my children—and I did and I do. I couldn’t imagine where I would be without them now, and though I don’t often think/say/admit this, I do think I wouldn’t be as happy without them.

My children have taught me things about myself, lessons about life, truths I sometimes forget. They have made me less selfish (though we have a long way to go on that one!), more caring and, yes, exponentially more exhausted.

Whenever a mother says something (gasp!) less than positive about motherhood (like that she’s so freakin tired she can’t see straight and she could just strangle her dear sweet husband for getting sick on the first morning in two weeks that she could get an extra hour of sleep), she is obligated to add “But it’s worth it.” As I’ve said before, every time I hear a parent say that, I immediately begin to wonder if I could claim the same and really mean it.

But I chose this life because I know it will be worth it. Even if I can’t say it after spending three hours trying to put Rebecca down for a nap only to have Hayden wake up the second she falls asleep, I know one day I will be able to say it.

I hope.

Categories
Fulfillment

February from the archives: Why I chose to have children

We’re looking back at some of my favorite fulfillment posts from the last five Februaries. This one is from 2009.

Just in case we weren’t clear, the following is a satire.

I like me.

No. I take it back. I love me.

I love everything about me. I have blue eyes, I’m tall, I’m fashionable, I’m a talented writer and musician, I’m extremely intelligent, I’m svelte, I’m funny, I’m witty. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture.

To make an already-too-long story short (as if you could ever tire of hearing how great I am!), I know that my specific combination of genes and je ne sais quoi is, frankly, the among best that the world has seen. It would be tantamount to a crime to deny the world the perpetuation of my DNA.

july-2008-rebecca-hospital-051Also, I like attention. I enjoy having every eye in the room on me, and before I had children, I couldn’t help but notice how everyone in the chapel turned to stare at the mother with the toddler screaming “MOOOOOOOOOORE WAAAADDERRRRRRR!” during the Sacrament.

Or how everyone in the quiet restaurant clucked at the mother with the five-year-old throwing his $7.99 macaroni and cheese on the floor. Or the surreptitious yet piteous glances at the mother whose teenage daughter will be having a baby of her own any day.

I couldn’t help but think, “Oh, if only I were that mother. Every eye would be on me!”

Let’s face it: mothers are a privileged class in our society. No one else demands the attention of a crowd like the mother with more small children than hands, especially if she should be lucky enough to have one run away or throw a tantrum.

No one else gets to sit at home eating ice cream for breakfast and watching oh-so-premium daytime television, and only be expected to explain to everyone outside their elite tier exactly what it is they do all day. No one else receives the admiration of peers and strangers, evident by such comments as “You certainly have your hands full!” and “Don’t you know what causes that?”

Speaking of which, mothers are never at a loss for conversation starters. Mothers have kind strangers approach them in public places to offer much needed and prized job feedback. Helpful soon-to-be-friends always know exactly where you could improve. (The less kind people just smile and nod, or offer a not-conducive-to-conversation “We’ve all been there.”)

Mothers get tax credits. They get to have the booths and biggest tables at restaurants; they can use handicapped ramps, door openers and elevators without guilt; they even get to board airplanes first! Little wonder I was so envious of mothers.

Lest I forget, there was a range of experiences I felt fundamentally lacking from my life. I’d never been puked on, peed on or pooped on. I had a queasy qualm about the sight of blood that I definitely wanted to resolve. And I’d never been to an emergency room.

I was getting entirely too much sleep, hadn’t had stretch marks since my preteen growth spurts, and had only ground a few pounds’ worth of food into my carpet.

The privileges our society unfairly reserves only for mothers begin as soon as one is visibly pregnant. Suddenly, people finally feel the license to address my weight gain, to touch my person without the pesky formality of asking permission.

In the end, I think it was a foregone conclusion that I would choose motherhood. Between bequeathing the world with the continuation of my genetic line, earning the admiration and attention of everyone within earshot (or macaroni and cheese range), and the fabulous conversation starters, how could I pass up this opportunity?

Why did you choose to have children? Please, leave only sarcastic answers here; we’ll try this again with sincere reasons later in the week! Also, check out the hilarious reasons on the original post.