Confidence

What is confidence? Well, according to Marriam-Webster confidence is: 1 a: a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances b: faith or belief that one will act in a right, proper, or effective way 2: the quality or state of being certain 3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy b: reliance on another's discretion c: support especially in a legislative body 4: a communication made in confidence. Some synonyms of confidence are: Assurance and self-possession. So, is confidence something that can be taught? Are you born with confidence?

Here is what I think. Confidence is something that you are given. As one who has lacked confidence (I know, you would never really have guessed this, right?), I have tired to make sure that my children have always had the confidence to walk into any situation and deal with it. This may be as easy as walking into a new classroom at the beginning of the school year wondering if you know anyone, or it may be as hard as walking into a crowded room knowing that you don't know anyone, but still walking with your head up high. I think I have taught my children that no matter what you have done or what people think of you, it really does not matter. The most important thing is what do you think of yourself. Are those people talking behind your back? What are they saying? Truth? Lies? Does it matter? Hold your head up high and own the situation. Even if it is as minor as having a new haircut that you are a little unsure about to as major as a "family scandal", have the confidence, the assurance, the self-possession to take the situation into your own hands.

Garrick and the Emergency Room

So, here is my story:

Garrick, Natalie, and I were at church a couple of Sunday's ago and Garrick leans over and says that he is not feeling well. He immediately goes pale and has beads of sweat across his forehead. I ask him what is the matter and he says that he is having some really sharp pains in his side and he thinks he is having appendicitis. I look down and he is holding his left side. I ask if it is the left side, he says yes. I tell him that the appendix is on the right side. He Googles this information while in church because, of course, mom knows nothing. After Google confirms that mom is not an idiot, I ask him if he can wait until the end of the first hour, if we get up and leave in the middle....well, it is just not good to do this. He says he thinks he can. About 10 minutes later, he is like, I need to get up and walk around....he does and comes back to sit down and says that he needed to the emergency room. We have like 5 minutes left, I tell him to wait and we will leave as soon as this part is over. He agrees. We leave after the first hour and come home. I take off my dress and immediately lay down. Garrick comes in and says...I need to the emergency room. I say to him that I think he needs to just lay down and relax and we will see how he is in a few hours. He Googles left abdominal pain and comes back upstairs and says that Google says he should be seen right away. I say okay, he leaves, and I throw just a little fit. I don't really feel like an ER visit is warranted. He will be okay...but being the GREAT mother I am, I take him to the emergency room. I do, however, have the foresight to grab my book on the way out.

We get there and it is not too bad. They call Garrick in to triage and get his vitals, etc. When they call him back, he tells me that he does not want me to go back with him. I totally respect this. So, I wait in the waiting room. I wait. I wait. I wait. People come in and they go out. I read. My hips starts to hurt, so I walk around. I sit and read some more. So, I figure we got there around 10:30am and now is it about 3. This really, really sick lady comes in. (Aside note here...I have a really weak gag reflex. It is something that I have always had...I cannot help it. If something looks gross, I will gag. If something smells gross, I will gag. If someone is even talking about something gross, I will gag. When my kids were young and were sick...I usually threw up too. I just don't do stuff like that well.) Anyway, this really sick lady came in; she told them that she had been throwing up all night. She came in and sat right, I mean RIGHT, next to me. I was like oh no. She smelled like throw up --- okay, I am starting to make myself GAG right now!!!. Suffice it to say, I could not sit in there one more minute! I go to the admitting clerk and tell me I need to go back with my son.

So, I go back with Garrick and he is all IVd up and resting comfortably. I sit in there for almost an hour with him. The doc comes in and says the blood work is good and she cannot find any problems with him. DUH!! I should have made him wait it out at home and saved myself $100!! She gives him a prescription for Vicodin (this is actually very good for me! I LOVE Vicodin!). She said that she needed the nurses to come in and do one last set of vitals and then he could be released. I can hear that sick lady down the hall and I tell Garrick that I will have to meet him in the car! Finally, about 15 minutes later, he comes to the car. Fun, fun, fun at the ER on a Sunday afternoon! We get home after 4.

I think Google needs to make this comment on every page "All information, of course, is subject to your mother's opinion." THAT would certainly help me out!

Curse of the Left Hand

So...my baby girl is left handed. This has been a "problem" for her her whole life. She says that I tried to change her...this would not be true. When she was very young, even to this day, when I set the table I put the silverware on the right side of the plate. She thinks this is discrimination, when, obviously, it is the way people set the table. She thinks the whole world is against left-handed people. Here are a few examples...First, she is doing a poster for school; she has used a marker to write the word "Titanic" on the top of the poster board; because of the curse, she has smudged the title. I know...too dramatic for words! Do you know that scissors are made for right-handed people too? Yes, there are "special" scissors for left-handed people. Something to do with the blade and the way it cuts the paper. Do you know that when you go buy a softball mitt, there are hundreds, yes, I said hundreds, of mitts for the right-handed person and only two, yes, I said two, mitts for the left-handed person? Fortunately, my baby plays softball like a "normal" right-handed person. I cannot explain this...the eye doctor said once it is a right eye, left eye dominant thing. So, when she plays softball, she plays like a right-handed person which she refers to as her "time of normalcy." I know...the drama is just too much here! Did you know, when you teach a left-handed child to tie their shoes, you have to do it with them sitting across from you? The same goes for teaching your daughter how to crochet...this must be done with her looking from across as opposed to her sitting next to me. This information, by the way, is NOT in the parenting handbook! Did you know that coffee mugs with cute with little sayings or little pictures are also made for the fortunate right hander? There are several more examples of the unfairness to the left-handed person, but the most important one is that Natalie says that left-handed people die younger. This is pure crap, but of course, she read it somewhere and therefore, it is a fact. Google overrules mom - every, single time!

(Thanks Natalie for the topic!)

I am Mother - hear me roar

Some things have been going on in my life that I do not understand nor can I explain. I have so many questions: What is a mother? Who is a mother? What is a mother supposed to do for her children? How much is too much? Can a mother love her son or daughter too much? Does co-dependence actually exist for mothers and sons or mothers and daughters? Does always being there for your children make a mother an enabler? What the hell does it mean when a mother is told she did not raise her children to be independent?

These questions, of course, are rhetorical. I know the answers. I also know that as a mother, I have tried my best. Have I screwed up? Of course I have. Have I made mistakes? Of course I have. Would I go back and change anything? Not one thing. Am I proud of my children? More than they will ever know. Did I do a good job? Considering that neither child is in jail, on drugs, a drop out of school, pregnant/gotten someone pregnant, I would say that I did a fairly good job (of course their father did help too!). Do I think I was a good mother? I do, actually - and screw those that think differently.

I am going to miss my kids when they are gone and, if I have done my job correctly, they will miss me too. I, personally, do not think that is a bad thing. I am, after all, their mother.

Putting life on hold

As we grow older, things change...priorities change...thoughts change. Trent and I celebrated our 21st anniversary yesterday, sort of. For the first time in our 21 years, we both kind of put this event on the back burner with promises of celebration in the next few weeks. We both have a lot on our minds and getting our son on his mission is priority one.

Trent and I were married 21 years ago ; 21 years ago my thoughts were - I can to do this. We moved away from our families while Trent was going to school. My thoughts at that time were how I wished we could have a full refrigerator and full gas tank at the same time. Lo and behold, 6 months after we were married we received our first surprise with the news that we were expecting our first child. My thoughts at that time were how I needed to eat right and take care of my body for my baby. I knew it was a son, Trent teased it was a daughter. Though the labor and delivery were very hard and almost caused death, Garrick and I both survived. I knew at that time that we were one of the same, we were both strong individuals with a huge desire to win. My thoughts changed from me to my son. My thoughts were not merely what my future holds but what the future of my son holds. My thoughts were how can I keep my baby safe. Years passed and we went from one baby to two. I knew I was having a son, Trent assured it was a daughter. After bringing that beautiful baby girl home, my thoughts changed again. I now had two babies that I needed to raise and that I needed to care for and comfort. Could I do it? My thoughts are not as simple as they were years before. Now, I need to worry about the mortgage and the car payments. Then comes that first day of school. I take my baby boy up those steps and down that long hallway to the first grade. He is beyond ecstatic, he is so excited he can hardly breath. I cried when I got home and my thoughts were now how in the world was I going to care for my son when is out of my home for 6 hours a day now? When my son was almost 10, we had a terrific tragedy happen to my family. My thoughts were how was I going to take away the ache and the pain that a 10-year-old should never have. How was I going to make him understands God’s will when I was not too sure I understood? When he was almost 12, we moved to California. My thoughts changed yet again. We did a pretty good job in New Mexico, however, California was going to be different and perhaps harder. Could I still keep my children safe? Garrick turned 12 and started scouts and my thoughts are looking way ahead to that Eagle Award. He begins high school and thoughts change yet again. High school? How as I going to keep him safe there? Then comes high school graduation. While my baby boy is walking down that aisle to the tune of Pomp and Circumstance, all I see is the nurse bringing my baby boy to me for the first time. My thoughts are how in the world did we do it? How did we raise such a perfect son? The next step was college...I did not think I would survive. My thoughts were if I had done my job good enough, he would be okay. He called and texted a lot. I helped him with cooking and laundry. He comes home for the holidays and my thoughts are this is the last Christmas for 2 years that I will have my whole family here. Can I do it? He goes back to school, the second time, a little easier than the first, but hard nonetheless. I still received calls and texts. Then I started getting different texts in where I was being updated on the mission papers. On March 17, I received the phone call that changed my thoughts yet again, Garrick called to tell me that his papers had been turned in. My thoughts immediately went to me, to myself, to my selfishness. If Heavenly Father was going to take my baby, please don’t take him to some place that I cannot handle. Please, let him be close. On April 3, Garrick calls and says, “I am going to Montana!” I say, “When?” He says, “June 3.” I say, “Why?” Thinking this was a road trip and not the mission call. He says, “...mission?!?” My thoughts immediately went to my Heavenly Father and with my heart filled with much love and gratitude, I thanked Him. Garrick came home on April 10 and my thoughts changed yet again. My thoughts now were this is the last time my son would live in my house. He may stay with us on occasion for days or even for an extended period, but he will never really live there again. My thoughts were wondering if I had done a good enough job. As we prepare for my son to leave on this journey, I hope he knows that my thoughts will be with him every single day. Is he eating? Is he sleeping? Is he teaching the gospel? Does he need new shoes? Socks? Shirts? Does he know how much I love him?

As we grow older, things change...priorities change...thoughts change; but the love we have, it never changes. It only grows. As we put our anniversary celebration on hold for a few weeks, Garrick puts his life on hold for a few years. I said my thoughts after I got married were I can do this...those are the same thoughts I have today. The circle of life.