Bleh

Today marks an interesting milestone in my ongoing quest to focus on the positive in life. Miraculously, I feel no real desire to vent about all the negative aspects of this day. Unfortunately, I don't have the mental energy to think of anything that might have been positive about it. I'm sure there must have been something . . .

Mom, What's A Book?

Today I was browsing through the Fall 2008 issue of BYU Magazine, and I noticed an article about how birth order can impact the amount of parental time children receive. A recent study showed that "firstborn children get about 3000 more hours of parental time between the ages of 4 and 13 than secondborns." This may explain why firstborns "generally get more and better education, score higher on tests, and end up with jobs that pay more."

There may be multiple reasons for the difference in parental time. A parent with multiple children often has to divide time between them. Also, more children may mean more chauffeuring to extracurricular activities, and consequently less family time. Moreover, while firstborns only have a parent to teach them new things, secondborns often prefer to play with their sibling, so big brother or sister may be the one who teaches words and activities instead of Mom or Dad.

One first/secondborn difference that really struck me was the fact that parents often spend much more time reading to their first child than their second. When I read that, I realized that when Joy was an infant I used to read her multiple books a day, but the only time I read anything to Daniel is when Joy happens to bring a book over while he's on my lap. Even reading with Joy has become rare because life is busier and she often requests other activities instead.

I want both my children to experience the joy of reading, and I'm glad this article woke me up to the fact that I've let reading be sidelined lately. I think I'll introduce Daniel to a few board books this afternoon.

Wouldn't Miss It

I'm an advisor in the Young Women program at church, and once a month I teach a lesson on some assigned topic. This week's lesson is on "Attitudes about Our Divine Roles" of wife and mother. I must say there's a certain irony in the fact that this lesson fell to me, because motherhood was a serious leap of faith for me. Some girls gravitate toward babies from the moment they can walk; I was never one of those girls. My interests lay elsewhere, and when I was around children (especially tiny ones) I never had a clue what to do with them. I couldn't imagine what I would do with a few children of my own all day, every day.

My decision to become a mother was a considerable act of faith in God and His prophets. They promised me that motherhood was part of God’s plan for me, that when we accept His callings He helps us fulfill them, and that I would find greater happiness in parenthood than in any other role. I didn’t exercise my faith in vain. I was amazed at how easily I took to parenthood, and I’ve learned more about godliness from being a parent than I learned from my mission or any class I’ve ever taken.

Tonight, as I worked on my lesson with Daniel nestled against me in a sling, I reflected on whether I truly had found my greatest happiness as a mother. I realized that, much as I love my friends, enjoy my hobbies, and cherish my missionary service, the sweetest memories of my life are connected with my little family. They involve cuddles with Daniel, or Phillip helping out when I’m tired, or Joy calling out “Mama!” when I come home and running up to get a kiss on the cheek. They involve together time with my sweetheart, and witnessing the milestones of our children.

While motherhood certainly has its stressful moments, it has also yielded the sweetest, happiest experiences of my life. If I hadn’t trusted the Lord and His servants, I would have missed out on so very much.

My Daughter, Myself

Joy was in good spirits most of the day, but she started acting out a little this evening (throwing things, refusing to help clean up, etc.). As I did my best to remain positive and respond effectively to each situation, I realized I was having a much easier time feeling affection for Daniel than for Joy. I think a big reason for that is that my relationship with Daniel is much less complicated at this point.

I think Daniel’s sweet, he finds me comforting, and I don’t have to worry about how to discipline him or teach him good principles. By contrast, many of my interactions with Joy involve her pushing her limits and my buttons, and my struggles to teach and promote good behavior aren’t always effective.

While I might wish my relationship with Joy was as sweet and simple as what I share with Daniel, I can’t help thinking that my relationship with my Heavenly Father is more like what I experience with Joy. I’m a basically good child, but I repeatedly try His patience in some ways. Yet He loves me anyway, and if I hope to become more like Him, I need to cultivate a similar ability to love despite challenges, not in absence of them.

More Faith Than Fear

The next few days are going be crazy and unpredictable. Since there's no way to plan how to handle them effectively, I've been trying to not think about them at all. Surprisingly, I discovered that stressed me out more. Then I remembered a principle from Tuesdays with Morrie.

Morrie was slowly dying from a chronic disease, but rather than mentally fleeing fear, he acknowedged it whenever it reared its head then he consciously set it aside. I'm trying to do likewise, acknowledging that the next few days will be demanding, but also putting faith in God, in myself, and in the family and friends committed to helping us through. After all, worry contributes nothing useful, and it robs us both of the anticipation of the future and enjoyment of the present.

Baby and I are Home

My little bundle of boy arrived earlier this week. We're both doing fine and happy to be home. My feelings vacillate between eagerness to get back into life and a lethargic yearning for more naps. Consequently it's hard to say whether I'll be posting a lot or a little in coming weeks. We'll just have to take things as they come, as always.

In the meantime, gentle readers, I hope all's well with you.

Adventures in the Kitchen

A few weeks back I published a post on how my perception of myself has evolved. One significant aspect of that change has been my defining hobby. I used to read voraciously in high school, and though I had less time for pleasure reading in college I continued to define myself as a bookworm. These days I still enjoy books, but I rarely make time to read them and I'm embarrassed to say that I regret that more on principle than because of some deep yearning in my soul. If I have any defining hobby these days, I would have to say it's food and the preparation thereof.

That's not to say I'm some gourmet with super-refined taste. I wouldn't even say I'm a foodie--I enjoy eating, preparing, and learning about food, but I'm not full-time obsessive about it (yet?). I just enjoy good food, and find that cooking is a creative outlet that works in my schedule. I usually feel too busy to attempt reading anything longer than an internet news article or blog post, but since I have to feed my family every day I figure I might as well use that time as an opportunity to experiment and create something we will (hopefully) enjoy.

I've learned some interesting things along the way. For example, I recently discovered that bacon actually does play a meaningful role in some dishes, including a chicken chili recipe from which I always used to omit it. I've also learned that bottled lemon juice in no way compares with fresh squeezed, that red and green bell peppers actually taste very different (when I first started cooking, I assumed people just chose one over the other because they liked the color), and that pouring water on unbaked apple crisp can actually produce tasty results (a.k.a. my new favorite dessert). I'm curious to see what longstanding assumption I unexpectedly debunk next week.

Don't expect me to host a cooking show any time soon, though. I often tell people that if I started one, it would be billed as a comedy with viewers betting on what I would drop, spill, omit, or burn next. Most of my dishes turn out all right in the end, but it would be woefully inaccurate to call my preparation style either elegant or efficient. Oh well--what really matters is that the result tastes good and I had a good time making it.