Surprise . . .

Surprise pregnancy. Yup. That's what's up around here lately.

It's a whole different game when you're not expecting it. This time, I've been much more impatient with first trimester fatigue and nausea and food aversions and mood-swings (which made them worse). We weren't positive that this was what we wanted. And we're still not positive that we can parent three children under age 4.

But, I found extreme comfort in Elder Neil L. Andersen's talk Children.
And I tore through the final pages of A Joyful Mother of Children, by Linda Eyre (which I happened to be reading at the time). She says of motherhood:

"I had been going along these past seven years being a faithful, loving mother: having children, learning the hows and whens and wheres, but not really realizing the whys! I projected myself ahead in time and tried to look at life and the childbearing years from an eternal perspective. I was startled to realize that in all eternity I would have only about twenty years in which to bear physical children on a physical earth and reap the eternal joys therein: the joy of learning to manage time and feelings and people, and the joy of molding lives and developing relationships that would help me to learn and grow forever. Only twenty years! Right now it seems like such a long time to change diapers and stand in foyers with fussy, noisy children, to prepare meals and put on bandages. Yet, . . . soon there will be only a memory of how I did, to what extent I was anxiously engaged in grasping all the joy and happiness that was there for me to find in that short time. Then it will be over---forever! I began to concentrate less on the difficulties of pregnancy and childbearing . . . I began to see it all from a new perspective: My eyes were opened, and like a warm, wooly parachute settling over me, the whys began to make themselves manifest. Having another child is a great blessing to be looked forward to with enthusiasm and excitement" (A Joyful Mother of Children; pg. 18).

To be honest, I'm still trying to focus on the whys, but we're definitely excited to meet this little person in June.

This made us giggle

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Squeeeezing in Some Fun Stuff

So I know this is picture overload. Recently I've been thinking life isn't all that exciting; we're just living the typical life-with-kids. Mike works extra hard at learning Farsi and the days are sometimes difficult and long. But sifting through our pictures I realized that we love this typical little stuff.

Monterey Fair

Winning (3) Fish

Standing at Parade Rest with Daddy's dog tags. I think he's got it down. :)

Curious about Monterey weather? This explains it.

The Monster Box meets "Ouch Charlie that really hurts."

Pulled these from our recycling. His favorite toy is Cookie Monster . . . He's hugging them. I giggled.

:)

The Oakland California Temple.

View from the Temple terrace. Hello San Francisco!

The boys were abnormally quiet while we were getting ready for church one morning. I found them like this "reading to each other."

Family Home Evening Paper Airplane Night

A "spinster" in action. (I think Mom and Dad enjoyed this activity more than the kids did.)

Party On

 

This Little Man Turned 1!!

We love him. :)

Togetherness

Just an update. And yet I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to articulate so much change.

We’ve moved again, that’s a big one and easy enough to tell. And I’ll mention the magnificence of the ocean and the wonder at seeing another of God’s creations for the first time. Even I, who love the mountains so dearly, can’t miss His thumbprint in the beauty and power of the water; to feel so small, yet so certainly reminded that He’s aware of me. It’s an amazing feeling.

Of course, we’re all together again! And our relationship is so – better. Not that it was bad or even all that difficult before, but it’s better now. We’ve both grown. It’s interesting to me that we took different paths which stretched us and shaped us in different ways, and came back together to find a better fit. I felt empowered by that divine source, so much bigger than myself during those months. Perhaps I could’ve made it through alone, but it would’ve been much more difficult, and probably scarring in the end. As is, I feel less trepidation about future separations. I feel confident and capable (which is a big deal for me).

Adding Mike back into the mix has taken some time. I was just feeling like the boys and I had found a rhythm that worked. We were functioning above “survival” level. We weren’t just getting through. The Kiddo has had to realize that Dad still dishes the discipline sometimes, which he wasn’t too happy about. But he’s getting over it. The roughhousing has recommenced! (Roughhousing with Mama just isn’t the same.) My favorite part has been watching Mike get to know our Little Man, who changed so much during those 4 months. Mike gets a kick out of the tiniest things he does. His personality is so different from his brother’s; we’re still figuring him out. And now we get to do it together!

As we’re getting settled, I’ve been missing my family and realizing the blessing it was to spend a year at my parents’ house. I got to know my siblings again.

My youngest sister is honestly one of the kindest and most genuine people. She was my bud while Mike was gone and I really came to appreciate and rely on her for company. She made shopping fun (it rarely is) and we giggled, ooo-ed and aww-ed over jewelry, shoes and t-shirts. She shared my affinity for Jane Austen and old movies. She helped experiment with desserts. And her spiritual strength and determination to ALWAYS do what’s right floored me often.

Little Brother was still quite little when I moved out. Now, as a 15-year-old, he’s funny. And creative. And makes movies. And writes stories. And follows sports. And plays sports. He often got roped into babysitting and quickly became the Kiddo’s favorite (which meant Saturday morning sleep-ins were often interrupted by a nephew jumping into bed). He changed diapers and was a pro at rocking Little Man to sleep. What 15-year-old boy does that? My brother. :)

And Sister Littlest, but not youngest, well she and I have had our moments, being close in age and all. She’s one of those people that drives me bonkers because she’s good at everything she attempts. She paints and sculpts and plays piano, French and tenor horns, and soccer. AND, she has a certificate as a veterinary assistant. What I came to understand (a little) and admire (a lot) is her determination and willingness to work. She’s kind. She was good at recognizing when I could use a hand and taking one child or the other. (And the Kiddo realized she was always good for a sticker.)

My parents remained the amazingly faithful examples they have always been to me. I am so grateful for a year under their roof again. It rejuvenated me and reminded me not to get caught up in the nitty-gritties that fill the day-to-day life of a mom. I love you all!

 Life is just--settling in still. (I'll be using that excuse for awhile.) But I think Monterey is gonna be good to us.

I Interrupt Your Normal Blogging . . .

. . . to bring you MY CHILDREN.

I haven't bragged about them in awhile . . .

And recently, this one started Army Crawling       (fitting, right?)

And this one talks like an adult, giving me compliments and extra hugs and kisses. He also likes to pretend he's texting/calling Daddy, and the "conversations" keep me laughing.

They so often put the happy in these long days.

And well . . .

a mama's gotta use her bragging rights, right?

6 Days Down!

I keep thinking that I should record my feelings about Mike leaving and how the kids are doing. But every time I sit down to write--NOTHING. I feel numb.
When Mike and I said goodbye, I didn’t cry. As I drove home with tissues in hand, I didn’t cry. For the first 4 days, I didn’t cry. THIS IS NOT NORMAL. I’m a crier (in case you haven’t caught on). I blubber. The spectrum of my emotions play out, though not in public.

Considering that we waited 2+ months knowing this day was coming, I was emotionally spent. We both were. Feeling so confident about the army decision made the wait somewhat tortuous. But we got there. He left. Life went on. We've kept functioning as normally as possible. When asked, I say “We’re doing good”—because we are, even if I didn’t have much emotion to back that up at first.

First thing each morning, the Kiddo asks, “Where’s Daddy?” He’s still trying to figure out exactly what's going on. He understands that Dad went on an airplane to the Army and that he’ll be back. The other night, as I was tucking him into bed, he asked me to sing, “When Daddy Comes Home.” In that moment, the emotions came flooding back. I cried. It was refreshing and welcome, after feeling stoic and emotionless for half a week.

But frankly, I was grateful for a tearless goodbye.

**We haven’t heard much from Mike yet, just that he arrived safely at Basic Training and that his head is already bald.

Mental Pictures

There’s an episode of The Office in which Jim and Pam discuss taking “mental pictures.” Anytime there’s a sweet moment between them, they proceed to “click” their mental cameras.

I feel like I’ve had so many moments like this lately—moments which would be ruined by rushing to grab a real camera; and even if said camera were handy, it couldn’t do the moment justice. It would just get in the way. The moment wouldn’t be as vivid, viewed through a lens.
Moments like . . .

--The Kiddo, nose running, eyes shining as he masters the wobbly steps at the playground.

--Mike and The Kiddo, laying face-to-face, both grinning excitedly seconds before rolling down the hill.

--While both kids cry and whine in the backseat, catching Mike’s eye and that slow smile that sends us into laughter instead of frustration.

--Little Man’s dimpled smile as he grabs my face in both hands and presses his forehead to mine.

--The Kiddo’s scrunched up face and creased brow as he tries to understand something.

--Little Man’s look of triumph when he finally grasps the paper (he’s not supposed to have) in his chubby hand.

--A crisp night up on the mountain, just me and my Babe, looking at the stars above and the city lights down below. Not even talking. Just content.


Utterly content.

Army Prep by the Numbers

Days to Departure: 5

Minor Wife Breakdowns: 3

Attempted explanations to toddler that Daddy will be leaving: 4

“Days til Daddy Comes Home” countdown poster: 1

Hero Dad book: 1

Special “pre-army” Dates planned: 4

Special “pre-army” Dates carried out: 3

Temple trips: 5

Trips to see family: 1

Goodbye calls/emails/lunches/Skype sessions: lots

Tears shed: surprisingly minimal (for now)

Days in which I’ve felt 100% sure I can do this: 0.743--which is just enough

Something to Look Forward to

The unknown is a little scary (obviously). We’re not really sure what to expect from the Army lifestyle. Yet I’ve been amazed at the little ways I feel the Lord is comforting us as we prepare to head down this path. These experiences aren’t really anything spectacular, but they fill my soul in ways I never anticipated:
I’ve been feeding off the Church’s website on Military Relations. There are so many great ideas to prepare for times of separation, keep relationships strong, and avoid temptations. Here are some more fun ideas!

On the BYU channel the other day there was a documentary about a mother of six whose husband was deployed. She openly said it was tough and that sometimes she was just trying to get from one day to the next; but I was awed by the sweet ways she kept her children engaged with their father, through care packages, Skype, and letters. What I loved even more? the way she and her husband interacted. They saved time to talk over the internet, just the two of them, about any issues that needed resolving—children or finances or whatever. There was also set aside “flirt” time in which they kept things positive and light and just talked. Beautiful. We’ll be doing that ;)

The other day at the temple, this sweet lady came into our session late. She apologized profusely and explained that her babysitter had fallen through. A temple-worker asked how many children she had. “Three,” she said, “and their dad is in Iraq. I just had to make it to the temple. It’s my lifeline while he’s gone!” I wanted to jump up and hug her and thank her for being there. I needed her example that day—and probably for the future too.

Our awesome neighbors connected us with an awesome couple who just spent a year and a half in Monterey. Over lunch we bombarded the Sommerfeldts with questions. They gave us great advice and eased so many of my fears. People are so kind!

Ya know, I'm really starting to get excited about Army life.

Naptime

"Hey, Bud, naptime is in five minutes!” I say as I look at my two-year-old expectantly. Smiling mischievously, he turns tail and hurries up the stairs leaving a trail of giggles behind him. I can’t help but grin. Slowly I rush after him, catching him in a fit of kicks and laughter before he can reach the top. With a gentle tug, he’s swooped into my arms for a bear hug.

As I help him settle into “Mom and Dad’s” bed (the usual naptime location), I decide a few minutes of sleep sound nice to me too. To his utter delight, I clamber into the bed next to him. He smiles happily. “Mom lay down too!” he says excitedly. I smile, whisper “sleep tight,” kiss his forehead, and turn my back to him with a deep sigh. My eyes close easily, only to snap open a minute later. A melody of fake snoring drifts out from behind me. I find myself laughing as I turn to tickle him. He laughs hysterically as I roll over again. “Go to sleep, Silly Goose,” I say. Slowly, I settle back in, loving my decision to let myself sleep for a bit. It isn’t long, however, until a quiet series of “me-me-me-me-me” meets my ears. “HA, HA!” I cackle, “Who taught you that!?” Tickling him into submission, I can’t help thinking that he’s freaking hilarious. Again, I settle in for my nap, relishing the coolness of the room and the laughter that still echoes in the air. One last time, fake snores mingled with suppressed giggles cut through the quiet and I’m forced into laughter myself . . .

As the breathing behind me finally slows and deepens, I realize I can’t possibly sleep now. Instead, I turn to watch my son sleep. How I love him.

What a kid.
And what a satisfying nap.

Questions for the Void

Alright, my fellow friends in Mommyhood, I’m new to this full-time, stay-at-home, no studying, homework or required reading way of life.

What do you do all day?

How to you spend those much-loved minutes of naptime?
What helps you to feel accomplished? productive? motivated? (on a limited budget)
What do you do to stimulate your brain during those (much-loved) days of child’s play?

“Sisters, find some time for yourself to cultivate your gifts and interests. Pick one or two things that you would like to learn or do that will enrich your life, and make time for them. Water cannot be drawn from an empty well, and if you are not setting aside a little time for what replenishes you, you will have less and less to give to others, even to your children.”

– Elder M. Russell Ballard

How do you “fill your well”?

I’m excited to have free time that isn’t automatically filled with schoolwork—and I’m excited to feed off of your wisdom and advice. Please share.


I also love what this talk says about creating.

Army Ho!

On January 8th, Mike swore to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; [to] bear true faith and allegiance to the same; [to] obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over him, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

He joined the army. His official title is Electronic Warfare Signal Intelligence Recruit.

Arriving at this point has been a long, interesting, frustrating, difficult and spiritual experience. While Mike and I were dating, I remember him expressing interest in the army, though never very seriously. More in a “this would be cool” kinda way. I didn’t think about it much.

However, in the following years the army kept popping back up: in conversation with buddies, in school lessons, in casual discussions about our future. It always interested Mike. As his wife I hoped it would go away, because honestly, we’re in the middle of a war and the thought of deployment is scary. He knew this, and looked into many alternatives, all of which brought dead-ends.

Eventually I had to acknowledge that his little expressions of interest had grown more serious. Trying to be supportive, I told him we’d “look into it”, gather some information, and pray about it—which we proceeded to do.

It seems that everyone has an opinion when it comes to the army. We were warned and advised in one direction or another for months. We listened. Took it in. Pondered it. Felt excited, but then discouraged, fearful, and nervous. Finally, in a moment of tears and confusion, I realized that it was time for me to plug my ears. I couldn’t listen to anymore. We know all the risks. We know that the family will be separated for a time. We know that it will be hard. But when we looked at each other and really stopped to listen—we felt peace.

So, we began the paperwork, including several tests.

Mike passed the general admittance exam with an extremely high score (meaning his job options were plentiful). I felt that familiar nudge at my heart, revealing this was no coincidence.
He watched his weight closely and on the day of his weigh-in, he weighed six pounds under the limit for admittance. (Coincidence?).
He was offered a position in Military Intelligence with a High Security Clearance, which required another test. It was ridiculously hard. He passed. Barely. (another door open. Another sign of divine intervention.)

This process has felt like the decision of what college to attend. Who to marry. What major to study. When to start having children.

It Just. Felt. Right.

This is quite possibly the best opportunity for training Mike could get and will potentially open many doors for us. For the next five years—I’ll be an army wife. Who’da thunk? Not me.

Mike ships out in late April. Until then, I might be a little clingy. I love my man and am so proud of him.

We’ll be joining him in Monterey, California in August or September (hopefully).


“A Soldier in the U.S. Army is the embodiment of physical strength, emotional strength and strength of purpose. As a Soldier, you will be prepared to serve our country whenever and wherever you are needed, combat-ready at all times, trained to counter any threat, anywhere.” http://www.goarmy.com/about.html

Just for the Record

We did it!!

We are officially graduates. :) Woo!

(even though Mike technically walked in April . . .)

Can you believe we made it to this point?

Good ol' BYU-Idaho, what a wonderful slice of life you provided:

My first "Home away from Home."

My welcome to married life.

My introduction to motherhood.

A whole lot of sweat. learning. and loving.

For all of this, I thank you. I thank you for being a place of Spirit. of opportunity. of good people. of empowerment.

"How beautiful are [the cold, wind, ice and snow] to the eyes of them who there came to the knowledge of their Redeemer" (Mosiah 18:30). My testimony, joys and understanding of life were deepened as I studied here.

Now as we move on to new adventures, I'm excited to continue my education. If there's one thing I've gained from the college experience, it's a love of learning.

Two kids and five years later--We're DONE!! :)