Letter To My Son

My Sweet Boy,

            From before the time your little heart started beating, you have held mine in the palm of your hand.  I can’t be sure if I gave it willingly or if you took it by force, but it beats there, pumping the greatest of all love into hands that will always be little to me, suffusing your flesh, filling your soul.   Sometimes in the dark of night when I have taken to my bed in fatigue, confident that I would nod off before my head hit the pillow, I find my mind filled with tender thoughts of you, of your hopes and mine for you, of your successes and failures, of my worries and of a magnificent, eternal love.  These eyes, so reluctant to cry, sometimes brim over with tears during quiet reflection of you.    

            Our moment together is coming to an end.  Soon you will leave me, go out into the world, make your own life, and find a new love.  You are my life’s work; I hope that I have loved you well enough, said what you needed to hear and taught you what is right. For a few years you will still be able to reach for me when you need mothering, but someday I will be gone from here and your memory will grow old.  These are the things I want you to always remember.

            Do not drift. 

This world is unfriendly to boys and men.  It will tell you that you are superfluous in the lives of your own children, that you are unnecessary in the running of your home, that you are stupid, reckless, and incompetent, a victim of your gender.  Never believe it.  This world needs you to be a man of faith, a man that can be counted on to know what is right and to do it.  You’ve been a student of these things throughout your life.  Hold tight to what you know and do not drift.

                                                                                                                               

             Do hard things. 

Already in your young life you have long term goals and dreams for your future.  You want to write things that matter, run like the wind, dance in the sunlight, create beauty, learn everything, and make others smile; you want to conquer the world.  You will find that nothing worth doing comes easily.  Your words will come clumsily, your hamstrings will ache, your feet will stumble, your paint will run, you will not understand, and people will cry.  You will have to do the same thing over and over again.  It will be difficult, it will hurt, at times you will want to quit.  Do it anyway.  Learn to struggle, to overcome, and to appreciate the way the whole process makes you better. 

            Go about doing good. 

Do you remember the snow shovel?  The gratitude your use of it inspired?  Do you remember the warmth that you felt even while you froze inside of your boots and gloves?  Any time you need to be anchored, fall back on that feeling.  Seek out opportunities to give, don’t overlook the simple things.  Smiles and friendly words are often the greatest acts of service we can perform.  Remember the Savior and make him your example, do as he did.

 

            Treat women well. 

I don’t have to cast my mind back very far to remember you, with your tiny hand in your father’s large one, tugging on the handle of my car door to open it, reaching your stubby arm in to take my hand and help me out.  Those tiny hands and stubby arms have grown long and lean.  Still I see them, pulling my car door handle, reaching in to help me out.  I’ve watched you push open doors for little girls, and take elderly women by the arm.  I hope you always do these things.  Every girl, every woman you meet is a daughter of the King.  Strive to treat her accordingly.  In this way you can change a woman’s life , you can teach a girl her own value.  I promise you can.  Son, always, always, treat women well.

           

Be a man of virtue and integrity. 

This world we live in will try to teach you that you are not required to reign in your impulses; that keeping your word is optional, and that basic honesty to yourself and others is unimportant.  Don’t give in to the temptation to cheat, steal, or sneak just a little.  Like your once small hands, these things will grow.  Guard your honesty and morality jealously.  Make certain that you can be trusted with tasks, belongings, and hearts.  Be a man of virtue and integrity.  

           

Remember who you are.

You are a son, a brother, a friend.  You are a student and a teacher, a leader and a follower. You will be a husband and a father. You are Eddie.  You are Scott.  You are Evan.  You are Jesse.  You are Ross.  You are my heart.  You are a son of God.  During the course of your life, when you are bombarded with messages of your own irrelevance, remember who you are.

General Douglas MacArthur once prayed, “Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid, one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.”  I echo his sentiments with all of my heart and hopes for you.

I love you.

Mom

My Disease

     My name is Amanda and I suffer from something called clinical depression.
     You might know someone who has had to deal with depression short term, take a few pills, have some counseling and move on with their lives. That's not me. I will have to take a pill everyday for the rest of my life to maintain any level of normalcy. Normally it is pretty well controlled by my medication and regular exercise, I can blend in with anyone else without people noticing how different I am.  But I am different.
     For me depression manifests mainly in the form of fatigue.  Even on my best days getting out of bed is a difficult task, I feel like I am running in sand and watching all of my friends, family, and co-workers blow past me on their well paved roadways.  On my worst days the sand becomes molasses; I cry when my alarm goes off and pray for help to get up in the morning.  Sometimes I slide into what I call a funk; a zombie like state where I am lost somewhere inside my disease.
     Over the years I have had to accept that I will never be what I think I should be.  I have had to dumb down my expectations for myself significantly. I need that self-love and understanding that comes from acknowledging my situation.  It's an awful thing.  Sure, I have all of my limbs, I am reasonably intelligent and somewhat capable. I was blessed with a few little gifts here and there to help me get through this life.  But my brain has a chemical imbalance that will always be with me.  It changes who I am.  It makes every day a fight.
     In the last day or so I have been sliding into one of those funks that I mentioned earlier.  They usually last only a few days, but it can seem like forever.  I cannot face the simplest tasks, like making dinner for instance, or washing the dishes.  You might as well ask me to climb Mount Everest.  I simply cannot do it.  Because my depression doesn't manifest that way, I don't feel sad, although I am more easily discouraged and my feelings are significantly more tender than normal.  My kids, at whom I rarely yell, are always pushing the limits of my patience. My mother can tell at the first sound of my voice that something is wrong, even before I know sometimes.  She wants me to go get some short term counseling and my husband wants to know if I am taking my medication.   It's difficult to accept that even though you are doing everything in your power, it's not enough.    
     Maybe you know someone in your own life who deals with clinical depression.  Maybe it's you.  Let me share a few things that I know for sure about this disease.  It's one of those diseases that can't be seen, but hurts anyway. Being depressed is not the same thing as being crazy.  No matter how strong your will is, you cannot out-will it.  It is not something that you can choose.  Would you choose cancer?  No, and you wouldn't choose depression either.  Having to take a pill every day does not make you weak, in fact it may just make you stronger.  Be kind.  A depressed person does not function on the same level as everyone else.  When you see that pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, do not judge.  Washing them just might be an insurmountable task.  Stop and think before you speak or act.  Be careful what thoughts you are going to take from the situation.  And ask yourself, am I planning to climb Mount Everest today?

Pedicures with Peter Pan

On Sunday we try to do things that are different than the activities that we normally participate in. We read from the scriptures, play games, sometimes watch religious movies. Today we held a pedicure party. My seven year old spread out a bath towel and each of my children began choosing the colors they needed to use. Even my husband was in on it. The two year old wanted to paint somebodies nails, and I was already being painted. I guess you could really say that he had his toes painted.

Scotty said that he would make sure nobody could tell that I had fat toe nails any more. I thought Gene would bust.

They renamed the colors things like dirt and sizzle and golden bullet and lightning.

On Tubs an Turtles

Have you ever made a choice that spiraled out of control and soon found yourself in a situation that you weren't sure how you got into? I have. Often. That's how I ended up with a turtle in my bathtub.
It started out innocently enough. We homeschool our kids and they take band at the local public school. Usually they ride their bikes to and fro, but on this particular day there was thunder and lightening in the sky. I was on my way back through the melee to pick up my seventh grader when I noticed a turtle trying to cross the street in front of the middle school. My stomach clenched up and I began to worry that the poor little guy wouldn't make it safely across. ( Here I should explain that this has always been a particular mental illness of mine. I once stood in the middle of the road to protect a half smushed possum from becoming a fully smushed possum while waiting for 911 to arrive. I kid you not. And wouldn't you know the darn thing wasn't even grateful. It just hissed and spat at me the whole time.) And so it was that I found myself anxiously awaiting the release of my son from class so that he could move the poor turtle. Yes, I know that I could have moved it myself, but I had already touched a frog and a catfish and that was my yearly limit.
My son was more than happy to move the turtle, but once we found it he wanted to bring it home. No, I said, we don't need a turtle. Just to show it to my brothers. he said, then I will let it go. I agreed. I am a sucker. Five pairs of pleading, big, blue eyes gazing at me turn me into a complete idiot. We learned that this particular turtle is the fastest turtle on earth, that he loves to have his head stroked, and that he doesn't like worms. We named him Shel and he started to live under a laundry basket in my living room. When dad came home that evening, things escalated. Within 24 hours he was eating my expensive apples, riding in a bucket to cub scouts, and, yes, even bathing in my bathtub. We spent half of our next school day trying to identify him (he's a three toed box turtle), and searching the house for him when he escaped from under the basket. He gets walked more then the dog.
And so it is that I find myself ready for my morning shower, but unable to take it because there is a turtle in the tub. And since I don't touch turtles, I am wandering my home until one of the people in my family who does touch turtles wakes up. And then comes the Clorox shower cleaner. Ahhh, the things we do for love.

Scott's First Sacrament Meeting Talk Delivered 3/18/2012

We know how Naaman got leprosy and asked the prophet Elisha for advice and was instructed to go and wash in the river Jordan seven times. At first, Naaman wouldn’t do what he was told by Elisha. He thought Elisha was crazy for not telling him to bathe in the Abana or Pharpar rivers. His servant told him if Elisha had asked for something hard he would have done it but Elisha asked for something very simple so he wouldn’t do it. So he decided to go down and wash himself seven times in Jordan, and he was clean.

In the September 2001New Era, Elder M. Russell Ballard said Great and wonderful are the blessings that come into our lives as we listen to the word of the Lord given to us through the Prophets. When we hear the counsel of the Lord expressed through the words of the President of the Church, our response should be positive and prompt.

In D&C 20:26  it says: Not only those who believed after he came in the meridian of time, in the flesh, but all those from the beginning, even as many as were before he came, who believed in the words of the holy prophets, who spake as they were inspired by the gift of the Holy Ghost, who truly testified of him in all things, should have eternal life. After I read this scripture I was thinking it would really help people follow the Prophet.

I love listening to general conference because of the variety of subjects that are talked about. I also like that even though they all have different topics the speakers say a lot of the same stuff like choose the right, pay tithing, and follow the prophet. I hope that everyone else here has the same feelings.

My Best books of 2011

Yesterday I read Shannon Hale's blog in which she lists her favorite books of 2011. I found it very enlightening, and I thought, "Wow! What a great idea! I wonder what my favorite books of 2011 are." So I pulled up goodreads.com on which I religiously track my reading and shelve it by year. In 2011 I read 224 books of all shapes and sizes. I don't think I could choose my favorites per se, but I loved these and wanted to share them with you.

Picture Books, Easy Readers, and Easy Chapter

1. A Balloon for Isabel by Deborah Underwood (P)

A charming story about a little girl porcupine who just wants a balloon at graduation the same as all of the other little animals. Adorable illustrations and a charming story. I read this book for my own enjoyment a couple of times.

2. Mr. President Goes to School by Rick Walton (P)

Mr. President becomes overwhelmed and disappointed with life in the white house so he puts on a disguise and goes back to Kindergarten. Then he uses the skills he learns there to solve his presidential dilemmas. Fabulously funny story, and it didn't hurt that it was illustrated by my all time favorite illustrator Brad Sneed.

3. Imogene's Last Stand by Candace Fleming (P)

Imogene is precocious and she wants to save the town's historical society. This book teaches history in the cutest way I have seen yet and the illustrations are marvelous. Make sure to read the end pages and cover or you may miss out on the best part of all.

4. Flat Stanley by Jeff Brown (EC)

Stanley gets squashed by a bulletin board in his sleep and uses his powers of slenderness to solve crimes and perform feats of wonder before his little brother figures out how to unsquash him. I read this aloud to my younger kids and they loved it, too.

5. Tuts Mummy Lost and Found by Judy Donnelly (ER)

Highly educational and extremely interesting, even for a 35 year old woman. The book includes illustrations and photographs. It's really, really cool.

Middle Grade and Young Adult

1. Entwined by Heather Dixon

A retelling of the twelve dancing princesses. I don't generally go in for fairy tales, but I love, love, love this book. The characters are brilliant! It actually made me laugh out loud. And I don't mean little snorts or chuckles. I'm talking full blown belly laughs. And I got my romance fix all at the same time. Read it, you will love it.

2. Forgotten by Cat Patrick

This was a new idea in a book for me, which I found refreshing. London forgets everything at the change of each day. She retains her long term memory, so she relies on notes from herself and information from a friend to get through each day. And then she falls in love...

3. The Raging Quiet by Sherryl Jordan

At a very young age, Marnie finds herself forced into a marriage to a much older and harder man. He takes her far from her home and family and then dies unexpectedly, leaving her alone in a strange place. Marnie manages to make friends with the local clergyman, and then with a wild deaf boy called Raver. The story of Marnie and Raver is beautiful and painful. I loved it.

4. As You Wish by Jackson Pearce

Viola suffers from the teenage need to be loved. Specifically by the young man, her best friend, who broke her heart. Then one day she accidentally summons a genie out of his own world to make her wishes come true. Pearce has a new (at least to me) perspective on the world of the Jinn which I found intriguing. It's the kind of love story that ends just the way you want it to.

5. Sing Me to Sleep by Angela Morrison

First let me say that I have sworn off Angela Morrison books for good. Now let me tell you why. I am the kind of reader that absorbs the characters into my heart as if they are real people. Morrison writes beautiful, poignant novels about difficult situations. They break my heart and stick to my ribs like oatmeal so that I can't shake them off. At the time I swore her off I had read pretty much every book I could find that she had written. Sing Me to Sleep is lovely and emotional. It's worth the read, but make sure you are ready for the ride.

6. The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly

Calpurnia Tate wants to break out of the mold set for women at the turn of the century.

7. The Wide Awake Princess by E.D. Baker

Another fairy tale retelling that I loved. Sleeping Beauty's little sister is immune to magic so when everyone else falls asleep she is left with the duty of saving her family's kingdom. Brilliant.

Adult

1. Moloka'i by Alan Brennert

Rachel contracts Leprosy at age seven and is sent to live at the leper colony on the island of Moloka'i without her family. This is a historical novel that made me aware of a part of history I knew nothing about. It was a marvelous read that kept my mind and emotions enthralled clear through.

2. The Last Train to Hiroshima: The Survivors Look Back by Charles R. Pellegrino

If you should choose to read this book, make sure you get the second edition. The first edition, which I read, has some errors due to bad research. It is still worth the read. Real people, a real experience, told from all sides. (That's right, I read some non-fiction this year, people.) I would love to own this book for my own library. My favorite part came at the end when one of the victims was making a presentation in a country in Europe. A boy in the audience asked him which country dropped the atomic bombs. After a moment the man replied that he couldn't remember. Of course he would really never forget, but he had experienced true forgiveness and it no longer mattered to him.

3. Take Joy: The Writer's Guide to Loving the Craft by Jane Yolen

If I've never told you that Jane Yolen is my hero, now you know. This book was written with other writers in mind. I loved everything she said about how any why you should write.

4. The Cross Gardener by Jason F. Wright

I recently saw Wright speak at a women's event and he is shockingly funny. At least shockingly if you have read his books. Which I have. The Cross Gardener has one of those spine tingling endings that we love so much. I usually can see where a writer is going with a story, but this one broadsided me majorly. I'd recommend any of Wright's books, really. Call me, I'd be happy to lend them to you:)

5. Maid to Match by Deeanne Gist

This is a sweet, passionate, squeaky clean and well plotted romance novel. Yes, I said well plotted. I love a good, clean romance novel. But books like this one in the genre are few and far between. I will be keeping an eye on Gist in the future.

6. The Price: The True Story of a Mormon Who Defied Hitler by Karl-Heinz Schnibbe

Have you heard of Helmuth Hubener? He was a hero. He lost his life in a word based fight against Hitler. Many of us know of and love Hubener. We tend to overlook the heroism of his comrades. This book is Schnibbe's story, told from his own perspective and memory. I loved getting to know him better.

Ok! Now what were your best reads of 2011?

Mandated Service for Women

Just before the War of 1812, Britain was seizing American ships and pressing American sailors into service in the Royal Navy. This aggressive act was met with hostility, embargo and, eventually, war. Today this battle is being waged again, but it is our own country men who are attempting to press the American people, both men and women, into military or civil service. While I am fundamentally opposed to mandated service, I can accept the use of a male only draft at times when our country truly has great need. In recent decades, however, many have tried to expand the selective service requirement to include women. They argue that American women now own all the same rights and privileges as American men; therefore they should shoulder the same obligation toward national service. But men and women, while certainly equivalent in capability, are fundamentally different. The special circumstances and dangers a woman faces, together with the need that we have for her here at home, should exclude her from mandated military service.
Before we can address other issues, we must first acknowledge the distinctly feminine challenges a woman must over come. Once a male body has passed through puberty, it performs basically the same functions on a day to day basis. But as we all learned in middle school health class, this is not the case for a woman. Puberty causes irreversible complications for the female body. In direct contrast with our male partners, our bodies do something different practically every day. For about three quarters of a month, little by little, the female body prepares itself to cradle life. The other twenty five percent is generally spent cleansing itself of the fruit of those preparations, except in those rare cases when the preparation proves worth the effort. In either situation, the female soldier would face an uncomfortable dilemma. Neither pregnancy nor menstruation is particularly pleasant, and both present privacy challenges.
Aside from the difficulties that every woman will inevitably face, there are serious safety concerns for a woman in our military here at home, let alone in combat. Sexual harassment of and violence toward women in the military, at the hands of their own comrades, are serious enough to warrant a special task force (dtic.mil, 2004). As a result of failed combat, a male prisoner of war may face abhorrent treatment at the hands of his captors. Many have experienced severe torture and mistreatment. Imagine if you will the added horrors that could be inflicted upon a female POW. The decision to accept that disturbing risk should rest solely on the woman herself, it should not be forced upon her, under any circumstances.
Secondly, we should consider the need we have for women in our economy. According to the department of labor website, an overwhelming majority of humanitarian career fields are dominated by women in this country. In 2007, women filled 92% of jobs in the nursing field, 81% of elementary and middle school teaching positions, 95% of childcare openings, and 91% of medical support jobs. Pressing women into service for our country could seriously upset our ability to educate our children, and care for the health and welfare of our citizens.
Most importantly, and dearest to my heart, is the toll that mandated service for females would take on the family unit. I acknowledge whole heartedly the contribution made to a family by a good and loving father, but the mother is truly the pillar of the home. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints teaches that “mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children” (Family, 1995). Mothers are universally recognized as tender care takers. In his proclamation Mother’s Day, 2002, President George W. Bush declared, “Mothers are central to the success of the American family. Their love, dedication, and wisdom touch countless lives every day in every community throughout our land. And their love and guidance of children help to develop healthy and spiritually sound families” (Bush, 2002). Abraham Lincoln once said, “All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother. I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life” (Bush, 2002). As the mother of five, I spend my life kissing ouches, scrubbing faces, and changing diapers for my little ones. I find that my older children are more independent, but they require my attention, encouragement and approval in their day to day lives. The absence of a mother, temporary or long term, is crippling to family life.
I was raised by a career military man, and later married one. I understand the sacrifice made by our military personnel and their families. Two decades before Sept 11, I was learning to take cover from terrorist attacks under my school desk, my father was out patrolling foreign borders, and my mother was home holding down the fort. She brought all of the happiness and security we had to our home. Perhaps that is why I feel so strongly about protecting this liberty. I respect and honor the woman that chooses to serve. I only believe it should remain a choice for her, even in times of war. Benjamin Franklin once remarked, “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety” (Franklin, n.d.).