Why I Run

**This was from September. I accidentally posted it on the wrong blog. That's what I get for having too many blogs to manage... =)

Two weeks ago, my sister and I ran a 5k. This was a major achievement for both of us because one, neither of us ever thought we would do something like that and two, it took a lot of work to get there.  I don't what got it into my head to run a 5k, but apparently Amanda and I both got the same idea at the same time. To me, running was kind of this cliche thing, a trendy thing that everyone seemed to be doing lately. Dirty dashes, color runs, electric races...I wasn't going to do it just because everyone else was. I remember cheering for my sisters-in-law, Heidi and Holly, when they competed in a triathalon and thinking that it was really cool but not my thing. I just wasn't the 'running' kind of person. There's a T-shirt that I always wanted to get that says: If you see me running then you better run too because something is chasing me. I actually used to run a lot when I was younger. I ran track for a year in high school. But I don't necessarily look back on that year with fondness. When I was stressed, I used to love to hit a dirt road running and just let the stress sweat away. But that was a long time ago. I had plenty of excuses of why I didn't run--it was too trendy, it's hard on your knees, when could I find the time, I don't like running in the city, I'm too old, not my cup of tea--but then I was feeling blah physically and emotionally. I was feeling chubby and unmotivated, and I knew that I needed to do something to get myself out of this rut. Kind of jokingly, I asked my sister if she wanted to run a 5k with me. She had been thinking similar thoughts and agreed. Next thing I knew we were researching how to get started.
     We started training about nine weeks before the race. We used this program called C25K (Couch to 5k). The program claimed that it could get anyone, in any shape, ready to run a 5k in 8 weeks. About two weeks into it, I was questioning that claim. The program started us out at a fairly easy level running three days a week. We had to run one minute, walk three minutes for about 20 minutes. Then the running times gradually increased and the walking time decreased. I remember when we had to run five minute intervals, I really had to push myself. I questioned whether or not I could really do this thing. Both my sister and I planned a few resignation speeches in those first weeks. But we stuck with it. Whenever I felt like quitting, my hardheadedness would kick in (finally a perk to being stubborn!) and I would dig in my heels and push myself to keep going. Somehow I was able to work it into my schedule, thanks to a very supportive and loving husband, and I stuck to it. By the last couple of weeks, there weren't any walking intervals, and we were running for 28 minutes. Sometimes I like to think back and compare the past me with the now me. I remember how hard it was that first time I had to run for five whole minutes. Now I can run for at least 28 minutes. That's so cool to me.
     We chose to run the Charlee's Angels Benefit 5k. The race was part of a fundraising event for Charlee, a five-year-old with a disease called Batten's disease. We decided that if we were going to do this, we wanted to do it for a good cause and Charlee fit the bill. Charlee and her family go on my list of people who amaze me. They are a family that is facing an obstacle in life that I can't even imagine, yet they are constantly reaching out to others, cherishing life, and inspiring everyone around them, even people like me who haven't personally met them. So many times, when I felt like quitting I would try to think of Charlee and her family and how quitting isn't an option for them and shouldn't be for me either.




     The big day finally arrived, and I was pretty nervous. Amanda and I bought matching spandex running clothes, some halos, and some glitter paint and then we were ready for the big race. It was a neat experience being there with everyone else running for Charlee. There were around 350 runners. Some people were pushing strollers. Some had dogs. Some were all business. It touched my heart to see a large group of runners pushing children with handicaps, including Charlee. Things like that are good reminders for me that there is so much good in the world.



     Amanda and I made a little mistake at the beginning of the race. We had never run a race like this before, so there were many things to learn. For example, if everyone is starting at the same time, don't put yourself in the middle of the mix. Get ahead of all the strollers and people walking. The race ran along the Jordan River Parkway which isn't very wide. It probably took us about a minute to weave through people before we could finally start running and then our pace was off a bit. Also, stick to your own patterns and methods. Don't try anything new on the day of a race. We tried these energy boosters before the race that I think just gave me a sick tummy later rather than an energy boost. And they had water in a few places along the race route. I got some water once, but I think it just messed me up. I had never drank water while running during my training, and so I don't know that I needed it during the race. It just broke my pace again. But other than these things, the race was actually a great experience. We weren't even to the halfway point when the first place runners passed us on their way to the finish line. Amanda and I cheered for a lot of the runners who passed us until we didn't have the energy and breath to cheer any more.
     I finished the race in 35:19. According to the paper I received, I ran a mile in about 11 minutes. I ended up in 93rd place out of 299 women running the race. I placed 17th in my age category (old fogie). Two of the best moments were first, when I rounded the corner and saw my family there cheering for me. My mom came out to support us and Nic and the boys were there cheering. The day before the race, Sam told me that he had a dream that he ran the race too and that he had a flag that said, "Go mommy! Go Nanny!" So the morning of the race, Nanny helped Sam make a flag with some construction paper and a stick that said just that. So there was Sam on the sideline waving his little flag and cheering. So then I decided to help Sam's dream come true. I grabbed his hand and we ran the last little part of the race together. The second best moment was just that--crossing the finish line holding the hand of my little boy. It was an amazing experience overall. I learned several things:
1. I have the most amazing and supportive husband and family in the world. Nic kept telling me how proud he was of me, and the whole time I just kept thinking what an inspiration he is to me and how many times I just feel so proud of him in all that he does. And I hope my boys know how much it meant to me for them to be there cheering for me.
2. I have the best sister in the world. I love that my sister is my best friend and that she is willing to go along with my crazy hairbrain ideas and come up with her own crazy hairbrain ideas for us to do. Running this 5k together was awesome. Love that girl!
3. I can do anything that I set my mind to do. One time after we had just finished running, Amanda and I were talking. We were both hitting a bit of a plateau and not really seeing any benefits to all of the running we had been doing. I wasn't feeling any skinnier, hadn't lost any weight. It wasn't getting any easier (or so it seemed at the time). What was the point of all of this? We weren't feeling the running high that so many people talk about. Amanda said that she needed to figure out her reason for running. She said, "I know you run because you like to run, but I don't necessarily like it. I need to figure out why I run." That has been rolling around in my head for awhile now because I don't necessarily like to run either. When I think of things that are fun or things that I like to do in my spare time, running doesn't even make my top 100 list. So that got me thinking, why do I run? And then the other day, I figured it out. I run because it's hard, and I need reminders that I CAN do hard things. I like that feeling of accomplishment when I make something that seemed impossible possible. If I can do something like run a 5k, then maybe, just maybe, I can get through those other hard things that come up in life. I hope that I can constantly teach that to my boys too because I know that it's often going to be difficult, but I also know that they have the ability to do whatever they set their mind to do.

So, Amanda, what do you think about training for a half-marathon?  =)

A Pure Stay at Home Mom

A few weeks ago, Nic and I attended a class for becoming a licensed Ham Radio operator. It may sound like a random thing, but we've been pretty excited about it. (And here's a little sidenote to my story--we took the test and passed. We are now official Amateur Radio technicians. We have call signs and everything! We're cool, roger that!) Anyway, the class was on a Saturday and lasted for four hours. During one of the breaks, I had the following conversation with an older lady:
Older Lady: Hi Jolene. Where's your cute boys today?
Me: They're at home with my sister.
Older Lady: Oh, that's so nice. You are so lucky to have your sister around to help you.
Me: Yes, I'm so lucky to have her. I don't know what I would do without her.
Older Lady: If you didn't have her to help, then you would have to be a pure stay at home mother like I was.
Me: ????????

What did she mean by that? Was she implying that I am an impure stay at home mother? What does that mean? At first I was baffled by her comment. Then I felt defensive and angry. A little before I had Cole, my sister started coming every weekend to help me with the boys on Sunday. Nic had been called into the bishopric which means that we don't see a lot of him, especially on Sunday. Wrangling two little ones while eight months pregnant was difficult. Then I talked my sister in continuing to come each weekend to help me because wrangling three little boys under three is difficult too. Now I know that other women have done it, are doing it, and will continue to do it on their own, but I have the resource of a loving and helpful sister, so why not take advantage of it. Sometimes I think that some of the older women in the ward think that Nanny stays with me all week and cares for the children while I eat bon-bons all day. So after, the defensiveness and anger subsided a little, then I moved on to feeling inadequate. Suddenly I started to feel like I am a bad mom, like I'm falling very short of the standard, that I'm sub-par.

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The above post was written early August. I had continued on with what I thought was a clever and witty response, complete with five steps to being an impure stay at home mom. But looking it over, and even as I wrote it, it was still coming out as very bitter and angry. The more I've thought about this, the more I've realized that I need to let go of worrying about what others think of me or my perceptions of what others think of me. This is easier said than done, but I'm going to try. I am going to just keep trying to be the best mother and person that I can be, continually improving upon the day before, and have faith and hope that it is enough. I'm also going to remember that when I fall short, I have a very loving Savior who paid the price for me and will always make up the difference. I just need to do my best and turn to Him in all things and that will be enough.

My Terrible Two Year Old Who Is Actually More Terrific Than Terrible

Happy Birthday, Marky-Parky!
Mark just celebrated his second birthday. The big TWO. Wow! It seems just like yesterday that we were here:

 And this is never far from my memory:

Now here we are:

 So, for Mark's 2nd birthday, here are a few things about my sweet boy.

Mark loves to be outside. That boy could stay outside from sun up to sun down if I let him. He loves dirt, trucks, cars, balls...he is all boy. He likes to just drive around in his toy car or the Lightning McQueen four wheeler. For his birthday, he got a new ride--a Harley! He likes to push things around, like his baby brother in a stroller.
 

I like to refer to Mark as my Mighty Mark. He likes to use muscle and might to work things out. We call him "Bonk" because he's usually inclined to hammering things and because he's so active that he's a bit accident prone. He was a little slower to start walking. In fact, he wouldn't even put his feet down to stand. Then one day he decided it was time, and he hit the ground running. He is always on the go. He likes to run, jump, play, dance...anything that keeps him moving. He loves all sports and is fairly athletic for his age. He actually has a really good arm and can throw with a lot of power and good aim. As I was recently hit by a projectile toy dump truck, I can attest to his throwing strength. =)


Mark can be a little hard-headed like his daddy (okay, like his mommy too). Like I said with the walking, he had to decide he wanted to do it. If he doesn't want to do something, he will dig in his heels and there's no changing his mind. I like to think that this just means he will always be a determined person in life.

One thing that his Grandma J said once that has kind of stuck was,"Mark is tough as nails--just don't hurt his feelings." That is one true statement. Mark is an adventurer. He has no fear. He will climb to the top of the highest slide at the playground and slide down without any help. He's not afraid to try new things or of getting hurt (much to my chagrin!), instead, he sees adventures in place of challenges. He is tough as nails. However, if I get mad at him about something or if someone says something that hurts his feelings, the waterworks start. And while he may have initially had some issues with his head when he was born, Mark was blessed with some outstanding lungs.

I think Mark will be a little more introverted like me. He likes to be around people, and he's really sweet and giving, but he needs a little time on his own to really function. I'm the same as far as needing a little alone time to re-energize. Mark loves to share and to give. He loves to give big Mark bear hugs. I think he will be a defender of the little guy in his life. Two funny stories about Mark:

One day we were out somewhere at a semi-crowded place and a kid, probably 9 or 10 years old, wasn't watching where he was going and bumped into me. Actually, he almost knocked me over and gave me a sore shoulder. He apologized and rushed on his way. Mark literally did an about face and with a determined, all-business face started going after this kid. I'm not sure what he was planning to do if he caught the kid, but it made my heart swell to see my little boy going to my rescue.

The other day we were getting some take-out dinner at a Chinese place. As we were waiting for our food, this huge Polynesian guy came in. He placed his order at the counter and then sat down at the table next to us. Now, mind you, this guy was HUGE. He had tattoos up and down his arms and legs and looked like a linebacker for some college team. Well, Mark decided he was going to make friends. He went to the guy's table, pulled himself up into the chair across from the guy, rested his chin on his arms, and proceeded to just stare at the guy. At first, the guy pretended to not notice him. But after a few minutes of intense staring, the guy finally made eye contact with Mark and said, "Hi, little guy." And then they were friends. As the guy left, he said good-bye to Mark, and then said to me, "You have a cute kid." Yes, I do.

Mark is a sweetheart and a character. He brings so much fun and adventure to our family. I am lucky and blessed to be able to call myself Mark's Mom.

 For Mark's birthday, I made him a 2 pancake for breakfast. And I made him a jeepin' cake because, of course, he loves going out in the Jeep. He's already laid claim to my Jeep. That's what I get for naming him after Uncle Mark and Uncle Clay. =)

My Merry Old Soul

Old King Cole was a Merry Old Soul and a Merry Old Soul was he.

The nursery rhyme fits my little Cole well. Cole is definitely a merry old soul. He loves to smile and laugh, and sometimes, he seems to hold the wisdom of a very old soul. And I think that he looks like a little old man. =) He is now almost ten months old. My baby is getting closer and closer to that one year mark and to becoming a toddler. I'm not sure I'm ready for all of that.

 With Sam, I had wanted to be that cool mom that posts each month about her child and posts a picture of the child holding a chalkboard with the age on it. Sam is two months old...he likes bottles and sleep...I tried. With Mark, I made a couple of attempts. With Cole, well, did I mention that I had another baby named Cole? Don't even ask me about their baby books.

But I'm going to take a minute and write a little about Cole. Let's pretend this is for his nine month mark and that I've been posting little tidbits and pictures all along.
 

Cole is my little runt. He's short and scrawny but not for a lack of eating. He's in the 7th and 10th percentile for height and weight. But he's healthy and growing, and as my pediatrician told me once, I'm not going to end up with any basketball players. Cole has been my little baldy. He actually has a lot of hair starting to come in, but it's really light and feathery and hard to see. He has a lot of fuzzy hair around his ears which only adds to his little old man look. Cole also has five teeth already. He started getting teeth when he was about three months old.

People always tend to comment about Cole the most on two things: one, his piercing blue eyes and two, his contagious smile. Cole has these electric blue eyes that seem to look right through you sometimes. He does a lot of communicating with his eyes. And he has this beautiful, goofy smile to go along with an easy going personality. Cole is generally a happy little guy. Sam and Mark love Cole so much...sometimes a little too much, and he ends up with a brother sitting on him because that's how brothers show love I guess. Cole loves his brothers too. He is always watching them, and I can tell that he's just so anxious to be running around and playing with them. I think Cole will be my youngest to start walking. He's already making little attempts. Both Sam and Mark weren't even interested until they were closer to two than one. Right now Cole does this Shamu/zombie/worm crawl that can get him from one side of the house to the other in no time flat.

Cole loves interacting with people. He loves faces. He loves making new friends with adults and kids. He's a chatterbox. I'm not sure he has an official first word yet, but I think he might be saying mama to me. I've told him that if he will make mama his first word then he'll be my favorite son (both Sam and Mark started out with dada). =)

Cole is such a little character. I often joke that someday I will get a call from the school, and the teacher will say that Sam keeps arguing with her. Then I will get a call, and the teacher will say that Mark popped someone in the nose. They deserved it, but he shouldn't have done it nonetheless. And then I'll get a call, and the teacher will tell me that Cole is being a class clown again and making the kids laugh in the middle of her lesson. He's already such a comedian and loves to distract people during Sunday School.

Despite being such a little guy, Cole is a BIG part of our family. I can't imagine our family without him. I don't know why I'm so blessed, but I'm going to just be thankful and enjoy it!

This is Cole and his little cousin, Erika. I have a feeling those two had a hay day up in heaven together hiding angels' halos and what not.


A proper greeting in baby is too nibble on each other's noses...

Being a mom is like being a lottery winner.

Being a mom is like being a chauffeur, a chef, a maid, a referee, a doctor, a therapist, a dietician, a musician, an actor, a teacher, search and rescue, a spy, and sometimes a prisoner of war...you name it, a mom does it. But most of all, being a mom is like being a lottery winner every day. Yes, there are bad days, but there are also good days, and I wouldn't trade this wonderful gift called motherhood for all the money in the world. I feel pretty darn lucky to have three handsome, smart, funny, kind, loving, often mischievous little boys to call my own. Every day, good or bad, there is a new adventure. Every day I get to see the world through new eyes. The world is scarier and prettier. There is laughter and tears; frustration and heartaches; and most of all, overwhelming joy. I love when my kiss is the only thing that can make an owie stop hurting. I love when I have little arms wrapped around my neck and when I get slobbery kisses. I love when my little boys run across the room with their arms outstretched so happy to see me. I love watching my baby sleep nestled in my arms. My heart almost breaks with overwhelming love when I hear a little voice say, "Mommy I love you soooooooo much." Being a mom is like taking all of the hard things and all of the good things in life and mushing and knotting it all together into a giant, tangled ball of gooey, sticky wonder and adventure. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world!

PITSD--a more serious post

Today I've decided to share some thoughts that I generally don't really even say out loud. Be aware that there's going to be a lot of soul pouring in the post and probably a lot of rambling! Here it goes: I have PITSD--Post Infertility Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've made up the name, but I know it has to be a real thing (btw, I'm not mocking or taking PTSD lightly).  I usually don't notice it too much, except at certain times, like Mother's Day. For a long time, Mother's Day was not a happy day for me. It was actually a very painful, heart breaking day for me. When dealing with infertility, Mother's Day is not a day to look forward to. I would try to focus on showing my love and appreciation for my amazing mother and mother-in-law and all of the other awesome women in my life, but it was still difficult. Listening to the children sing songs to their mothers at church would bring lots of sobbing and mascara smeared across my face. Some years I did better than others, but some years were very dark.

But now I have children. I am finally a mom. Still, I sometimes feel this hesitation to really enjoy Mother's Day, like, am I really allowed this wonderful thing? I am also very aware that there are so many women who are dealing with infertility, miscarriage, death of a child, death of their mother,  and so many other things that make this day so hard to face. I know some of that pain. I feel torn because I want to celebrate being a mother because I am so happy and blessed to be one. And yet, I want to do something to show these struggling women how much they are loved and that they are in my thoughts and prayers. I want to join the group of moms and cry and laugh about the struggles of every day motherhood, and I want to join the group of women struggling and crying. I want to hug each of them, and if I could I would show them my heart and say, "See I have those scars on my heart too, but I made it, and you will too. You can do this, and you are not alone."

When you have PITSD, it is difficult to not always be waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath you. When I found out that I was pregnant for the first time, I spent the first month or two really trying to convince myself that it was really a baby and not a tumor that my body had somehow misunderstood to be a baby. I worried and fretted the entire pregnancy that something was going to go wrong. I just couldn't believe that something that good was really happening for me. Once my husband was out later than I had anticipated, and I couldn't get a hold of him. I was so sure that he was dead because I was pregnant and so something bad had to happen. Well, thankfully, he was fine. The baby was fine. And now I have three handsome, wonderful little boys. I am so truly blessed in my life, but if I'm not careful, sometimes the anticipation of something bad happening will creep back in. But I have to just keep telling myself that there are plenty of bad things that can happen in life, but there are also many more good things that happen every day. And when the bad things happen, I will get through them with the Lord's help. For now, I'm just going to live and enjoy every minute of this wonderful life that is mine.

Another effect of PITSD is the overwhelming feeling that you must be a perfect parent. I sometimes put too much pressure on myself because I couldn't have children for five years. For five years, I obsessed over how much I wanted to be a mother. Sometimes I feel like I should be better because of those earlier struggles, like more is expected of me, because I wanted it so badly, as though it would be ungrateful to not do everything perfectly. I remember before I had children how much I hated when mothers would make flippant comments about wanting to get rid of their children. Occasionally, a mother would say something like, "You want kids? Here take little Timmy. He's driving me crazy." And I would get so mad because how dare this mother throw it in my face that she could have children and I couldn't. Now I understand a little better what that mother was going through. There have been a few times when I have threatened my children that I'm going to sell them to the zoo to live with the monkeys or to a traveling band of gypsies. And then I feel really guilty because how dare I think such things? I wanted children so badly for so long, I better love every minute of motherhood, right? I am slowly learning that infertility didn't up the requirements for me. All of us go through different struggles. If someone has cancer and beats it, do I expect them to now be a saint? No, of course not. We're all human, and I need to allow myself to be human too.

Anyway, I hope tomorrow that I can somehow help all the women around me know how amazing they are. As a mother, I am realizing more and more that it really does take a village to raise a child. My sons are so blessed to have wonderful grandmothers, aunts, cousins, an AWESOME nanny, amazing friends, and teachers helping them and caring for them. Women are like aspen trees. Aspen trees share a root system which gives them strength to endure the roughest of weather and gives them the nourishment they need to grow and strive in the hardest of conditions such as drought or long, cold winters. The largest root system is a cluster of Aspen trees in Utah that covers roughly 106 acres. As women, the more we reach out to one another, the more strength we have and the more good we can do as a collective power for good. The winds of adversity can't shake me or my little saplings because I have the strength of my sisters. I want to do more to contribute to that sisterhood and strengthen and encourage the women around me. So, sister reading this, know that no matter where you are in life or what you're going through, you are AMAZING and TREMENDOUS and 100% AWESOME! Thank you for all that you do. And I hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow--you deserve it!

Some random thoughts on motherhood

Being a mom is like being a supermodel.

Being a mom is like being a supermodel...ha ha, just kidding. Actually it's the exact opposite. I just couldn't think of what the opposite of a supermodel is. I remember taking my baby in for his three month check up and asking the doctor about this little rash he had. The doctor asked me if I was using a different soap or lotion on him. Nope. Was I using a different laundry detergent? Nope. Was I using a new soap, lotion, or perfume? That's when I realized what I was doing differently--I was finally able to take regular showers again!

The other day as I excitedly opened my brand new $4 mascara, I wondered to myself what those supermodel women think when they see women like me. I wonder if they think that I don't care or that I don't try. But I do try, I really do, but it is inevitable that I'm going to have spit up stains on my shoulders and crumbs stuck to my pants. On Sundays when I put the most effort toward my appearance, it lasts maybe five minutes. By the time we get to church, my hair is flying in different directions, my make-up has been perspired off, and my clothes are disheveled. It is the price I pay for wrestling three little alligators into dress clothes, getting them strapped into a van, and then getting them into the church on time (or as close to on time as we can get).

And I do try to exercise and take care of myself. But I still don't understand why all the scrubbing and vacuuming, kid lifting and kid hauling, kid chasing and silly dancing don't counterbalance the chocolate I eat through out the day to get me through the day. You just can't achieve the level of mothering that I do on celery alone, believe you me.

However, I am grateful that my boys don't care what I look like. Someday they will, and I can use that to my advantage. Yes, I will be the mother that will sit in the back of my son's classroom with my hair in curlers and wearing my best sweat suit if I catch wind of any of my boys misbehaving in class. I'm also very grateful that my husband still finds me attractive. I think he's crazy or maybe losing his sight, but I appreciate it nonetheless. He's a good man, and he has the ability to help me feel beautiful even after a long night with a teething baby. Love him so much!

Motherhood: I make this look HOT! =)

Being a mom is like being a politician.

There's campaigns to run (my campaign is JJ4MOTY--Jolene Jenkins 4 Mother of the Year) and babies to kiss every day. Yep, being a mom is a lot like being a politician. As a mom, I am always trying to keep my constituents happy, but there is always someone who isn't. I deliver grand speeches that no one really listens to, and I try to resolve complaints through out the day that never get resolved.

And like some politicians, I find myself constantly breaking promises that I once made. For example, before I had children, I made statements such as these:
I will never allow my children to eat junk food.
I will never let my children watch television until they are at least three, and then only a couple of hours each week.
I will never yell at my children.
I will never be that parent that has the wild children at church.
I will never become a frumpy mom who sometimes forgets to comb her hair.

I have discovered, since having children of my own, that 'never' is a very strong word. When I said "never", I meant occasionally...well, sometimes...well, no more than once a day...well...let's talk about something else, shall we?

The Mother of All Judging

So the other day, my good friend Heidi shared the following post from Love and Logic on my Fb:

"Moms…do you ever feel like the weight of the world is resting firmly on your shoulders? Do you ever feel like it's your job…YOUR JOB… to make sure that your kids always do the right thing and turn out well? Do you ever worry that the entire neighborhood is aware and judging you when your kids sneak out of the house with mismatched socks, messy hair and less-than-polite attitudes?

Oftentimes, the most loving and effective mothers take the most heat from others and themselves.

Wonderful moms understand that kids need to make plenty of small, affordable mistakes. They know that kids must experience occasional struggles and disappointments. They also know that constant rescuing or micromanaging just creates kids who need constant rescuing and micromanaging.

Because of this, the best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves. They feel lonely because our society too frequently rewards what looks good rather than what is good. They feel lonely because they rarely overhear other mothers bragging about allowing their kids to learn by forgetting a lunch, misplacing an occasional homework paper, or having to pay for a lost coat.

The best moms often feel a bit lonely and unsure of themselves.

It's easy to feel guilty or insecure when you see so many "super hover mommies" acting like pack mules, carrying all of their children's sporting equipment, back packs and other responsibilities. It's easy to lose perspective when your minivan is the only one without an "Honor Student" bumper sticker. It's tempting to waver when the parents next door are working harder completing their child's homework than their child is.

On this Mother's Day holiday, I hope to encourage all of the wonderful mothers who let things fall apart from time to time…who understand the wisdom of providing a rather imperfect world for their kids. When you find yourself feeling insecure or guilty, listen to our audio, Helicopters, Drill Sergeants and Consultants, and be reminded that it's far better for our kids to submit a sloppy science fair project than them seeing us hunched over the kitchen table frantically doing it for them."

This got me thinking--a dangerous past time, I know (name that movie). I always look at Heidi and think what an amazing mom she is. Her kids eat their vegetables, are well-mannered and smart, her house is so clean, she makes her own bread, she's so organized, she has it all together, etc., etc. Then I look at myself and think what a terrible mom I am. My kids aren't really sure what vegetables are, they can throw some amazing tantrums, my house is a disaster zone, my life feels like chaos most days, etc., etc. I realize that I do this with most women I know. It is very easy for me to only see the wonderful things that other moms are doing and compare that to what I feel are my inadequacies. When I read this post by Heidi, I felt a little surprised. She feels this way too sometimes?! But she is an awesome mom! It never occurs to me that these super moms that I see all around me feel the same inadequacies and self-judgments as I do. Maybe when we think people are looking at us judging us, maybe, just maybe, they didn't even notice or think twice that my kids had McDonald's twice last week. 

I'm realizing that when out in public, most moms try to put their best foot forward just like I do. It's not an act, per se, it's more of a fake it 'til you make it kind of thing. If I act like I have it all together when I take my children to story time at the library, then maybe one day it will come true...some day. 

Whenever I see someone else's child throwing a tantrum or misbehaving or with messy hair, I always think, "Oh, thank heavens! Someone else is imperfect like me and has imperfect children like me too!" Followed by a sigh of relief and strong urge to hug the stuffing out of that good, frazzled mother.

So I think for Mother's Day this year, I'm going to give myself a gift--the gift of no judging. I'm going to try really hard to stop comparing my faults to other's strengths. I'm going to compliment myself when I do something right and forgive myself when I do something wrong. I'm going to lower my expectations for myself. I mean, I don't expect my friends to do everything and do it perfectly, so why do I expect that of myself? And most of all, I'm going to accept the fact that God loves me and that He never meant for me to do this mother thing perfectly or to do this alone. I need to quit floundering for so long before I turn to Him for help.

So, chin up, Jolene! You're doing just fine.


Here's a piece of art that I didn't really understand when I first saw it many years ago, but now there's something about it that just resonates with me. If you notice all of the responsibilities that the woman is carrying, and how her foot just brushes the tree below her. She's not flying high. She's just barely clearing the trees. That's how I feel most days, but I'm flying nonetheless.
 It's called Responsible Woman. The artist is James Christensen. You can check out his other artwork at: http://www.jameschristensen.com/

Being a mom is like being a Las Vegas performer.

Being a mom is like being a Las Vegas performer. I'm not talking the scantily clad performers with lots of sequins and feathers or strip club gals. I mean performers like what you might see on the TV show America's Got Talent...performers just trying to have the act that draws people in to see it time and time again. For example, this is from the Las Vegas publicity website (lasvegas.com):
No other city can compete with the events, concerts and shows in Las Vegas. We're truly the Entertainment Capital of the World. And no matter what you're looking for this summer, we've got just the event. There are Las Vegas shows with dancing, singing, acrobatics and more. There's comedy or drama. And a healthy amount of spectacle.

And the concerts are out of this world all summer, and year, long. Nowhere else are so many talented performers performing night after night...

Sorry, Las Vegas. I beg to differ. My house might give you a run for your money. As a mother, I am performing every day. I sing, I dance, I act, I improv, I do impersonations and puppet shows, and I'm a pretty good comedian. The thing I love about being a mom is that I am not a good singer (I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket); I'm not a good dancer; my impersonations aren't always spot on; my jokes are usually cheesy; but my kids still like it. They keep requesting the same songs every day. They like to sing and dance with me and be silly. We have fun and enjoy being together. So maybe I don't have the huge crowds or fame and maybe I'm not making the big bucks, but hearing those cute laughs and giggles and making those fun memories is so much better.

By the way, what does 'a healthy amount of spectacle' mean? Is there some way to measure how much spectacle is healthy and how much crosses the line to unhealthy? Just wondering.

Mommy Confessions

Here's another post from Honest Mom. 
These made me laugh and do that I-know-what-you-mean nod. Also, here's a few confessions of my own:
--When someone comes to my house, even if I've just spent hours cleaning it, I always apologize for the mess. I think I hope that they think that the house is at it's messiest and think, "wow! It's not messy at all. What a great homemaker." Because if people saw my house at its worst, they would think, "Maybe this house should be condemned? What does this woman do all day?!"
--I sometimes growl at my children. Sometimes I just get so frustrated that I just growl out of frustration. It was all good until my three-year-old started copying me. Grrrrrrr.
--I hide candy and eat it in secret so that I don't have to share with my kids (and sometimes my hubbie). It's really my first born's fault. He's the one that gave me the sweet tooth when I was pregnant with him. Unfortunately, I had the baby but the sweet tooth just never went away!
Come on, moms, what's your confessions?

IN WHICH I MAKE GOOFY CONFESSIONS FOR ALL OF FACEBOOK TO READ.

It all started with an innocent confession as I sat in a chair in my daughter’s room, waiting for her to fall asleep.

Yes, I do that.

And apparently a lot of you do, too. Because when I admitted it on Facebook, 100 people liked it and 28 people chimed in, confessing they did the same thing.

Hmmmm, I thought. We are honest moms, indeed.

So I fessed up to this one:

Hundreds of people admitted to doing the EXACT SAME THING.

Not only that, but I was thrilled to read that many of you also forget your wet laundry in the dryer for days and rewash it because it gets stinky. And re-dry your clothes in the dryer over and over, hoping it’ll get the wrinkles out.

We are a sisterhood of laundry avoiders.

Next, I admitted that I may not always be attending to official business when I’m in the bathroom:

Me too! chorused the masses. I, too, do whatever it takes to get in a game of Words With Friends or play on Facebook for 10 minutes!

But some of you poor mamas have kiddos who won’t let you even tend to your needs in the loo alone. I remember those days.

Now, however, my kids just bang on the door and proclaim they need me RIGHT NOW MAMA because they must have a snack / are dying of thirst / need help with putting on a fairy costume IMMEDIATELY.

And really, unless I hear crying or screaming? I tune them out.

Then, as I was thinking about my oh-so-riveting social life on Saturday night, I threw up a quick question on Facebook:

“Ah, another fabulous, exciting Saturday night, folding laundry before crashing at 9:45pm. Good times, good times. Is anyone’s night as riveting as mine? Or do some of you actually, you know, do stuff and go places?”

Apparently I am not alone. You people are as boring as me. My laundry folding and TV watching was frankly a big wild party compared to some of you. Martinis and Minivans busying herself by chowing down multiple Little Debbie snack cakes. Mrs. HouseTalkN herself was in her jammies by 8pm. And one mom wasn’t even aware it was Saturday.

Today, to round up my series of confessions, I told the Facebook masses about my guilty little secret:

I don’t exactly hurry my way through the grocery store when I get to go alone. I may even dawdle. You, too, huh?

“As refreshing as a trip to the spa,” agreed one mom. And RachRiot loves her grocery getaway, too: “It’s like a little vacay, plus my grocery store plays kick-ass ’80′s music. WIN.”

So many moms, so many confessions, so fun to read. I still can’t get over the fact that I am not the only one who is hopelessly laundry-challenged.

I feel like this woman might be my long lost sister...=)

Being a mom is like being a mother grizzly bear.

Being a mom means joining a primal club that includes members from all different species. The human mother is most comparable to the mother grizzly bear. When you are in bear country, one of the biggest rules to follow is to avoid bear cubs at all costs. Bear cubs are clumsy and adorable, but if there is a bear cub then momma bear isn't going to be very far away. And you DO NOT want to mess with momma bear. Momma bear doesn't care if you were just trying to get a good picture or share your pb&j sandwich with her offspring. She will tear you to shreds before you can take a breath to explain.

I have found myself going momma bear a few times. Heaven help anyone who tries to hurt my boys. Once I even went a little momma bear on my husband. He was driving a little too fast or recklessly, in my opinion, and I had my cubs strapped in their car seats in the back of the car. It wasn't pretty. If I remember correctly, I may have threatened to rip his arm off and beat him with it if he didn't slow down and be careful right then. I'm not a violent person, per se, but when it comes to my children, I would not hesitate to do whatever I needed to do to protect them.

Also, here's a little lesson dads can learn from nature: Daddy bears usually stay clear of momma bears right after she has her cubs. I mean, unless he wants to help clean the cave or take the cubs for a stroll to give momma bear some rest, daddy bears know it's best to just steer clear of momma bear until she gets feeling back to her normal self. =)

By the way, I took this awesome picture of this momma bear nursing her cubs (yes, I know this goes against everything I just said, but I feel like this momma bear and I had an understanding, and I had a really good zoom on the camera, and I felt like I could outrun some of the other people that were there at the time). I love how she's slouched against a tree and looks so thrilled. I know that feeling sometimes. Don't get me wrong, nursing is great, but every two to three hours, really?! =)

Being a mom is like being an engineer...without any training.

Being a mom is like being an engineer but without any schooling or training. The first time I tried to put our Baby Einstein bouncer together, I thought, "How hard could this be?" Apparently, due to complaints about difficult to understand instructions and the inconvenience of writing instructions in various languages for a global society, many companies have begun just doing picture instructions. But these picture instructions are NOT detailed or well-drawn. It's like the pictures that your weird third-cousin draws while playing Pictionary at the family reunion. Is that a bat? A dog? Oh, it's George Clooney. I see it now. One of these days I'm going to write to these toy manufacturers using just stick figure drawings to complain about their complex instructions.

After assembling various toys, bikes, trikes, beds, furniture, etc. I think I'm ready to go help with the overpass they're building on the freeway nearby. It really can't be much more complicated than putting a day bed together, right?

Just inserting batteries can be a complicated procedure--the most complicated part being not losing those itty bitty screws that they use. Every time, the minute I do the last twist to remove the tiny screw, it's going to somehow go flying across the room. We then spend the next forty minutes on our hands and knees searching for it, only to find it as it's about to go in the baby's mouth. Every time.

The other thing that makes me feel like an engineer is all the building that I do with my boys. They love blocks and train tracks. And they don't want just your standard run-of-the mill buildings. They want state-of-the-art sky scrapers and complex European train track systems. I'm still working on making a good oval with my train tracks; anything more complicated, we usually need to call in the big guns, Daddy. Somehow daddy knows how to build arches and bridges, balconies and balustrades. But I'm learning and the boys make sure that I get plenty of practice.

Milestones

I haven't been keeping my blog the most up-dated, so here are a few milestones that the boys have reached in the past few months:

Sam

Sam is finally potty trained. I tried all sorts of methods (we read books, picked out cool big boy underwear,went all day for days with no clothes, did sticker charts, reward charts, gummy bears bribes, and much more), but I had finally resigned myself to the fact that he just wasn't ready. Then my good friend, Heidi, gave us a bin of toys for boys (some cars, jets, etc.) She had received the toys but has all girls. So as a last hope, I put all of the toys in a big, clear bag and told Sam it was the potty bag. Every time he went potty in the big boy potty, he could reach into the bag and get a surprise. He started wearing big boy underwear that day, and has only had a few accidents in about five months. He doesn't even need pull-ups or anything at night. Potty training is a piece of cake...ha ha!

Sam can not only sing the alphabet song, but he also recognizes letters. I didn't realize how good he was at this until Nic and I were working on some word puzzles. Sam wanted to play, so I told him to find certain letters to spell out the words I needed. He was able to identify every letter. He can also spell his name. In fact, he likes to get on daddy's Iphone and the Ipad and type his name. At first, he had his letters mixed up a little, and we would get reminders of appointments with 'asm', but he has since remedied that problem and now we receive NUMEROUS reminders about SAM all day long. I feel like I'm in one of the those Mormon advertisements--"Family: Isn't it about time?" Sam makes sure that we remember to spend time with him every day! =)

I hate to admit it, but Sam is also a screen junkie. He can work the Ipad and Iphone without any problem. My dad just got an Ipad, and we like to joke that Sam can go show grandpa how to use his computer. He really could. The kid is very technologically smart. He has his favorite games that he likes to play, and one of his favorite things is browsing apps and picking out new ones that he wants to try. He always wants to know the password so that he can purchase new apps. Sorry, kid, that ain't going to happen! He also has his favorite shows, including: Diego, Dora, Pocoyo, Pingu, Eebee, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. His two favorite movies right now are: Despicable Me and Rio. Some Disney movies are a little too intense for him still (he's a little sensitive to the scary parts like Ursula on The Little Mermaid). And whenever I start feeling a little guilty about how much screen time he has, he does something like acting out an entire scene while inserting himself as a character in the scene or counting to 8 in Spanish. He's learning new things constantly. And we do try to do non-screen things each day too.

He is full of curiosity and imagination. I love it! Sam is also quite the comedian. His two favorite jokes are:
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because he was walking that way. (This is a Sam original).

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
You don't have to cry. It's just me!

As for church, Sam graduated from the nursery in January and is now a Sunbeam. The transition has not been very smooth, however. Sam loved nursery (snacks, toys, and lots of attention, who wouldn't?) from day one and it has been very difficult to let go. He has fallen asleep in class a couple of times and one time he ran away yelling. (After hearing stories of how Nic ran away from school when he was little because he got a new teacher, I'm thinking it might be hereditary). But he seems to be doing a little better and seems to be enjoying class time.

Sam loves being a big brother, if not just for the torture factor. He and Mark are starting to get to the point where they play together for a little bit, and Sam loves helping to take care of Cole (or Baby Mo Mo, as he likes to call him). One of my greatest desires as a mother is that my boys will be best friends. We're working on it every day!

Mark

I didn't think it would ever happen, but in January, Mark finally decided to walk. Mark just never showed any interest in walking. He didn't even like to stand very much. After I had Cole, I couldn't really lift Mark very much at first, but I ended up doing it because the kid just wouldn't walk. And he would start getting really frustrated because he wanted to get somewhere but couldn't. Perhaps he was a little spoiled and got carried around too much, who knows. I kept asking his pediatrician and our Early Intervention specialist if it was a physical problem or had to do with his earlier issues, but it was just the fact that he needed to decide that he wanted to do it. Mark is definitely bull headed, and you don't tell him what to do. It has to be his decision. But once he started walking, he was running. He is constantly on the go now. And he is my little athlete. I think he has daddy's athleticism. He can throw really well, kick a ball, jump, and climb. Sometimes I worry a little because with his shunt he's not supposed to do contact sports, but he's my boy with the build and interest in football. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.

Mark is definitely all boy. It's funny to see the similarities and differences between Mark and Sam. While Sam's cars like to talk to each other, Mark's cars drive. Mark loves to drive his cars all over the place (complete with the car sound effects). Mark loves dirt. We just got a sandbox a month ago, and Mark practically lives in the sandbox. He loves to be outside. Now that the weather is getting warmer, I don't hardly see the kid anymore. He goes outside in the morning and then I drag him back in for meals and bedtime. Mark's nickname is Bonk because he is such a physical boy. He is constantly bonking his head, hammering on something (or someone), or moving my furniture. That kid is crazy strong!

Just last month, Mark graduated from Early Intervention. Melinda, his specialist, did his bi-yearly evaluation and told us that there isn't anything more she can do for him. He is right on schedule for fine and gross motor skills. He is very smart and socially outgoing. You would never know all that he has been through. He's just a regular toddler. While I'm excited for this next step, I'm also really going to miss Melinda. I will post the letter I wrote to my legislators about the Early Intervention program later.

 The only thing that he is kind of lagging with is talking. He can say 'dada', 'momma', 'nan-nan', 'banana', 'gu-gu' (gus), and a few other little words, but that's about it. Lately, he's been making more effort to communicate, but still gets really frustrated when he can't communicate what he wants. He's also funny because, unlike most kids, he says, 'yeah' but not 'no'. If you ask him something and the answer is yes, he'll say, "yeah, yeah!" If the answer is no, he just won't answer you. I can remember a time when I thought 'no' was the only word in Sam's vocabulary! This next month we're going to start working with a speech therapist to help him communicate better. Melinda says that it might just be a defiance issue, and knowing Mark, she might be right.

Mark especially loves being the older brother to Cole. He loves to hug and tickle his little brother. He sometimes needs a little reminding to be gentle, but, for the most part, is super cute with his baby. And he loves all other babies too. He loves to play with babies and bring them toys. Mark has a big heart and likes to share toys and snacks with Cole and with other babies. I think Mark and Cole are going to be especially good friends.

Cole

I like the rhyme, "Old King Cole was a merry, old soul..." because it describes Cole perfectly. He is such a merry soul. He's so good natured and always smiling and laughing. You can say 'tickle' to him and he'll laugh. The only time he's not very happy is when he's hungry. That's a very serious time!

Cole is my rock n' roller. He rolls everywhere. He started rolling onto his tummy pretty early on and now you have to keep an eye on him. Within a minute, he can make it clear across the room. I call him my 'Rolley Cole-y." I wonder if he'll crawl a lot sooner than his brothers did. He is really good at lifting his upper body with his arms. And he wants to be running around with his brothers so badly.

Cole also got his first tooth when he was just six months old. He now has his two front bottom teeth. And that kid loves to eat. He would nurse all day if I let him and loves baby food. The other day we were at the park. I had Cole on my lap and was talking to one of the other boys, when I looked down and discovered that Cole had eaten half of his brother's peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I guess I'm going too slow in introducing solid foods. He's ready for the good stuff! At his six month appointment, he was in the 7th percentile for weight and our pediatrician recommended nursing him more to get more calories for him. Nic thinks Cole paid the doctor to say that, because he doesn't look scrawny by any means. But we've been working on eating more, much to Cole's happiness.

A Love for Books

I love books, and I love to see my boys love books. I hope that they will always have a love for reading. I like to watch Mark go to the bookshelf and look and look until he finds his favorite books. I like how Mark's favorite way to read is sitting on top of you. I like watching the boys' reactions to books--their smiles and laughs and excitement. I want to remember their first favorites, so I just thought I would write down the first books that captured their hearts (the books that we've read over and over and over and over again until everyone has them memorized).
By the way, here are a few of my first favorite books (I still have them memorized!):

Sam's First Favorite Books:

Mark's First Favorite Books:

Cole currently likes to eat any book. I'll post his favorite books when he's more selective and more into reading than eating.