What makes a good mother?

Recently B1 and I were talking about mommy bloggers. I don't know how we got on the subject, but I started telling B1 about a blog post I read recently where the author talked about her fascination with "Mormon mommy blogs." At one point, she said, "Of course, the larger question is, are these women's lives really as sweet and simple as they appear? Blogs have always been a way to mediate and prettify your own life; you'd be a fool to compare your real self to someone else's carefully arranged surface self." I was talking to B1 about my two contrasting dilemmas in this blog: first, I try to focus on what's positive and uplifting, because frankly I become a basketcase if all I do is focus on the negative, but second, I also try to not be fake about my life. I don't try to claim that we have it all or that we're happy all the time. But, I guess it could maybe appear that way since I do try to keep my posts as positive as possible. Maybe that's because some days I need to see pictures of my kids at times they were happy to remember why I love them...but I digress. :)

So, anyway, today's post is going to be a little less than we-have-the-perfect-life type of post. I'd also like to invite comments, because I'm really curious what others out there have to say on this subject. My post is titled, "What makes a good mother?" I ask this question because it's a question I ask myself at least 5 days a week, usually after I have an irrational blow up at my 4-year-old or I just can't face the thought of making one more meal or folding one more shirt. So, what is it that makes a good mother? It's an important question. President David O. McKay said, "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." (secondary source) The Family: A Proclamation to the World states,

Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations....Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children...We warn that individuals who ... fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.

Wow...quite the expectations of what we as mothers are supposed to do, and such consequences if we fail!

Ultimately, this question stems from a fear lurking in the back of my mind that I'm just not a good mother. Thankfully, that nagging voice of "You're not good enough" is a little quieter today than other days, but yet it's still there. Why am I not good enough? Here are some of the questions I think about frequently that lead me to think I'm a bad mother.

1.) Are my standards too high? Am I expecting too much of my children? For example, is it normal for a child who's been potty trained for almost two years to go a week straight of peeing in his bed at night, and for the same child to still be almost incapable of pooping in the toilet without my making him sit down on the toilet first? If my expectations are too high, where's some reliable information about what I should reasonably expect, or is it case-by-case (er...child-by-child)?
2.) How do I keep my children busy during the day without a backyard and without TV? I still work at home, so I can't just spend all day at the park with them.
3.) How do I stop myself from becoming so annoyed at everything that one child does while the other child seems incapable of doing anything wrong? (I think this goes back to question 1--I think my expectations are too high for one child and more realistic for the other. Oh, and I am being slightly dichotomous -- it's not really that bad.)
4.) How can I learn to let go of perfection? That's probably not the right wording. Anyone who comes to my house can easily see it's not perfect. It's never super clean, and I'm okay with that--as long as I'm the one who messes it up. If my kids leave their toys around, it drives me nuts, even though my carpet hasn't been vacuumed all week and my laundry room is nearly piled ceiling-high with clothes from the dryer...that came out of the dryer three days ago. Perhaps it's the degree of uncleanliness that children bring. My laundry room may be messy, but it's the maple syrup on the floor that wouldn't have been there if the kids were more careful. I mean, really, D is almost two! (Just kidding--I don't really expect him not to spill food. I'm just saying it would be nice.)
5.) When do you stop being paranoid? I am absolutely terrified of something bad happening to my kids. Not like falling off the bike bad, but like getting killed by some creepy neighbor bad. The linked case about Destiny Norton happened right after B2 was born. I remember holding him in my rocking chair and watching the story unfold, and bawling my eyes out feeling like I couldn't protect him. In many ways I never lost that feeling. If B2 goes around a clothing rack at the store or hides behind a car in the parking lot and I can't see him, I panic. I'll yell his name, run around frantically, and, in some cases, start crying helplessly. I know at some point that I have to let him grow up and gain some independence, but I'm just so terrified of all the horrible people out there that I just don't know that I'll be able to do it. I really hope this is something that gets easier as your kid gets older, and maybe my fears are justified given my kids' ages.

I guess this idea of me being a bad mom just bothers me more now than before because now I have no excuse. Six months ago I could easily blame my messy house or short fuse on my crazy schedule. I was spending 11 hours a day away from home and only 2 hours a day with my kids. Saturdays were jammed pack with errands that didn't get done with the week, so of course it would be a frustrating day. Some days I was doing it all alone while B1 flew all over the country. I felt justified in how life was, because I simply didn't have enough energy to change it or even to care. But, now that I'm staying at home, I feel like it ought to be better. I'm now a housewife/mother first, independent HR Consultant second. And yet my house is just as messy, my fuse is just as short, and my kids probably spend more time in front of the TV than ever before. What am I doing wrong??

I'm sure there's tons of research out there, but frankly I don't care what the world thinks about motherhood because they've got so much screwed up already. Instead, I want to know what the readers of this blog think. What makes a good mother?

Thankfully, I had a live-in example--my own mom. But, on the other hand, my mom was already a great mother--at least, by the time I was old enough to notice. Maybe she struggled at first too. I'm sure my brothers gave her even more grief than my kids have given me...yet. But, here are some things that I learned from my mom:

1.) Make your kids help you do stuff, even if it takes longer. My mom always forced me to help her make dinner. Sometimes I would grumble (silently, because I'd get busted if I said it out loud) that I always had to do the work while my siblings sat around and watched TV. Now, I'm grateful because I knew how to make some of my mom's best dishes. (Oh, and Mom, in case I forget again, next time you're up I want you to teach me how to make your fried rice!) This is something that I do try to do with my kids. Well, mainly B2 because D is still too small. B2 helps me make cookies (though it's a serious test of my patience because he'll spill flour on the floor or spill some of my perfectly measured vanilla on the counter top), and when I fold laundry B2 helps by pulling out the socks and underwear--he calls it a treasure hunt.
2.) Don't lie to your kids. My mom never told us less than what she was thinking, no matter how much I wanted her to. Sometimes, you just wish your mom would say what you want to hear, but I realize how much she would have been short-changing me to do that. So far, I think I do this alright.
3.) Continue to improve yourself. My mom was always taking some time for herself. She played softball, read, and took computer classes. I know that I get my love of learning from her (and from my dad too--he's also amazing, but sorry Pops--this is a post about moms.)
4.) Let your kids fix their own messes. I expect this is probably a continual thing--as they get older, they fix bigger and bigger messes. But there were times that my parents didn't bail us out, and instead made us fix the mistake. I remember watching my older brother patch up a hole in the wall after his foot went through it. If I remember correctly, he was made about losing in a Nintendo game, slipped on a magazine, and WHAM! Anyway, random story, but ha ha!
5.) Don't compromise on important issues. For me growing up, it was modesty. For my brothers, my dad taught the importance of how you treat women, even the obnoxious younger ones who happened to be related to you.

So, I guess the point of this post is twofold--first, for me to get it off my chest that I often feel like a horrible mother, and that I fear that my kids would be better off if they were in another home (though the thought of losing my kids makes it hard to breathe). Second, to ask some opinions of what makes a great mother. What is it that your mothers did that you try (or tried) to implement? For those that are mothers, what do you do that makes you think, if only for a second, "Hey, I might not be such a bad mom after all?" What is it about your children that make you feel like a successful mother? For example, B2's love of books means I did something right. We read to him a lot as a child, and he still loves being read to. I'm excited about him learning to read and hope his love of reading will continue. And some days, it's something as simple as D's big hugs or B2 saying "I love you Mom" that makes me think, if nothing else, I must be doing something right.

Okay....ready? Go and comment!

Funny things B2 says--food edition

Scene: B1 just got back from an Elder's Quorum activity. The activity was a BBQ potluck with some Wii games and other stuff.
B2: "So, tell me about your party."
B1: "Well, we had some good food."
B2: "Like nuggets?"

Scene: We are at IHOP. We made the mistake of going to the one located just near a local university on the day of graduation. It was packed!! We waited about 30 minutes for a table at lunchtime. 45 minutes after the server took our order, our meal still wasn't ready and he brought out some yogurt and crackers for the kids. My niece and nephew didn't really like the yogurt, so B2 ate them. As my dad was passing the yogurt to B2, he said, "Here Buster, pound down this." B2 then finished the yogurt, turned to his cousin, and said, "Hey L, I just pounded down yours!"

Scene: Today for dinner we had pasta and garlic bread. For the record, I make some pretty awesome garlic bread. B2 had already eaten two pieces and asked for another piece.
B1: "You can have another piece after you finish eating. Your mom makes some delicious garlic bread, huh?"
B2: "You're delicious garlic bread."
B1: "Your mom is delicious garlic bread."
B2: "Hey mom, I can eat you because you're delicious garlic bread!"

Funny things B2 says

B1 was preparing to leave for a trip (he's been teaching so he doesn't fly as much anymore), and was looking for his epaulets (pronounced ep-ih-lets), which are the black and yellow decals on his shoulders that identify him as a First Officer.

B1: "S, have you seen my epaulets?"
B2: "Apple dad?"

Funny things D says--Part 1!

Now that D is getting more vocal, we get to start with his own series of Funny Things D Says. Today we have two tidbits--one from Sunday, and one from today.

Sunday
Scene: We have our neighbors over for dinner, which includes J, K, and their baby G (he's about 4 months old). G is working hard moving food through his little body, and has been letting out some gas. D has not been without fault in this matter during the night either. After one particular incident (in which I'm fairly sure it was D who passed the gas), I turned to D.
Me: "D, did you toot?"
D: "No, baby toot!"
Guess he's learning early to blame the younger child for everything. Poor third, currently non-existent (at least on this planet) child...

Today
We have play group over at our house, so there are six kids ages 4 and under.
D (to me): "Uh nap?"
Me: "What?"
D: "Uhhhhhh nnnnnaaaaappppp."
He's apparently learned that if someone doesn't understand the first time, just say it again slower. Reminds me of BJ Hunnicutt's line in M*A*S*H (and I'm doing this from memory): "Oh you Americans. You think everybody understands English provided you just speak it slow enough."

A twist on gratitude

Tonight was the adult session of our Stake Conference. Call me selfish, but I have a hard time with going to the adult session of Stake Conference, namely because it's on a Saturday night. I mean, really, way to kill any possibility of a date night! But, we managed to get a babysitter, and so B1 and I were both able to go. And let me tell you, it was amazing!! Every talk was incredible, and I could actually hear them because I wasn't constantly shushing B2 or trying to keep D from throwing a car at the head of a kid three rows back. Anyway, I digress. One of the hymns we sang tonight was "Count Your Blessings." I've sung this song countless times, but sometimes it really hits home...like tonight.

For those who don't know, I occasionally go through moments of total craziness (this is slightly exaggerated--it's not like actual diagnosed mental illness, just crazy-for-me craziness). I like to blame it on my birth control, but I've either been on birth control or pregnant for so long that it makes it hard to distinguish my own form of crazy from birth-control-induced crazy (I'm sure there's someone out there thinking that I should change my birth control if it's causing me to be crazy, so let me say two things: first, the craziness is pretty rare, like once every three months and usually lasts a day or two; second, I don't dare switch because I've been on other birth control that was way worse--I can deal with this!). I don't want to over-dramatize my crazy--I'm not super wacko, but I'm just not myself. Usually I can watch some chick flick, cry my eyes out, and then I'm back to my normal, only slightly wacko self. Well, not this week. Monday and Tuesday I just felt off, and then Wednesday something happened and I blew it totally out of proportion, which made me even more crazy on Thursday. Finally by Friday I mellowed out, and now I'm thankfully back to normal. So, I'm not saying this to make people feel sorry for me, but simply to describe maybe why this hymn meant so much to me tonight.

When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings; name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

Count your blessings;
Name them one by one.
Count your blessings;
See what God hath done.

Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings; ev’ry doubt will fly,
And you will be singing as the days go by.

While singing this, I started thinking about some of the things I usually complain about, and how they are really evidence of blessings I have.


Birth-control-induced craziness - Of course, the first on my list would be due to my past week. I'm grateful that I have birth-control-induced craziness. Why? Because it means that I can have children. If I weren't able to get pregnant, I wouldn't need birth control. And after having two sets of siblings that can't have children, I'm not going to ever, for one second, complain about not having their trial.


Stretch marks and saggy....well, you know - Again, as a by-product of being able to have children, I also have stretch marks. Like, really bad stretch marks. If I were to ever wear a bikini, I'm sure there would be someone who would be convinced that I was attacked by Freddy Krueger. But as much as I hate the stretch marks (or, even worse, all the leftover skin), I would never replace it with the option of not being able to have kids.


A husband who's gone a lot, because I have a husband with a good job that he loves, and a husband that is self-sacrificing enough to spend his nights serving others. Sure beats the alternatives...


The inability to sell our condo to buy a house, because that means we own our home. And we are blessed to own such a nice home--it's in great condition, in a great neighborhood and ward, with awesome neighbors. We love everything about where we live, except the fact that we're in two HOAs and we don't have a backyard where we can send our kids when they start driving us nuts. And I wouldn't mind having a basement either, with a nice big cold storage area for my food storage...But I digress.


Kids that wake me up at 7:00 a.m., because it means I get to be a stay-at-home mom and see their much-too-happy-for-7:00-a.m. faces every day.


A messy house, because I have kids who love to play and plenty of toys for them to play with.


Living in Utah, because now I can (or rather, have to) fully admit that I chose to be here. We had the option of moving to Houston or Minneapolis, and I realized that Utah isn't so bad. I'd like it a lot more if I didn't spend most of my time outdoors freezing or sneezing.


Trials, specifically trials I don't have. This one has been on my mind a lot lately. Several years ago, a family member and his wife had a baby who was born with an extremely rare genetic disease. Sadly, it's a terminal disease, and their little boy died just before his first birthday. I can't even imagine the pain they went through watching their baby slowly deteriorate, but what really saddens me is the pain they continued to go through. (The rest of this is all hear-say, but I'm sure there are others who have felt this way about their particular trial.) My mother-in-law was telling me about how hard it would be for them at church, because someone would give a talk or bear a testimony about how they had faith that God would answer their prayers and remove their trial, and He did. The family members then felt that their faith was not sufficient or God would have answered their prayers. I wish I could have told them then what was said in a recent Ensign article: “When someone has an ailment or an illness and they are healed as the result of a blessing, their faith is being strengthened. But for those who aren’t healed but continue faithful, their faith is being perfected. The first is a faith-promoting experience. The second is faith-perfecting.” (source) I'm grateful that I've only had faith-promoting trials and no faith-perfecting trials, though I'm sure I'll get some of those eventually. I'm also grateful for family members that have allowed me into their lives to share a small part of their trials. That may sound weird, but I feel like I become a better person for it. There are variations of this quote, and attributed to different people, but I try to take it to heart: "A fool learns from his own mistakes, a wise person learns from the mistakes of others." I think it extends to trials as well -- a wise person should learn from the trials of others, as much as he can.


Anyway, this was just on my mind after Conference tonight, and wanted to share. Maybe it will help someone else be wise by learning from my mistake, and instead of complaining (like I do) he/she can be grateful instead.

Demotivator? Not for me!

(Image "borrowed" from here)

Caption: "If you can't learn to do something well, learn to enjoy doing it poorly."

This image is from a series of "Demotivators" -- posters and other misc. items poking fun at the typical motivational pictures that have nice photography and a catch phrase that seems motivational at first but becomes cheesier the more you read it. So, anyway, today I was skimming through the new Demotivators since the last time I checked their site. (Oh, and side note: if you haven't read the Demotivators, you ought to--it's always good for a laugh.) I came across this one, and after laughing I started thinking about the truth behind this. Personally, I have a hard time accepting that I'm not totally awesome at something. I have friends who are awesome singers (cough Britney cough), friends who can surf well (cough Leslie cough), friends who are amazing photographers (cough Nickell or Erin or hundreds of others cough). I have friends who are better at the sports I love (Steph is a way better volleyball player, of course; Liz was better at softball; Leah was better at basketball; and so on). I'm by no means the smartest person ever (in fact, I was commenting the other day that a friend from elementary school got her graduate degree from Stanford in Electrical Engineering, which was after her full-ride double-Bachelor's in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science from MIT, which came after her perfect score on the SAT--makes my Master's in Psych from BYU seem pretty pathetic). And the list can go on of the millions of things that someone else can do better. Now, I understand that I'll never be awesome at something without lots of practice--I get that. But, being totally awesome at some skill also requires some natural ability. I'll never be a great gymnast because I'm too tall. So, I could spend the next 40 years taking gymnastics classes and practicing like crazy, but I'll never be awesome. 

So, this post is starting to sound depressing and self-loathing, but I swear there's a point! (Thanks for sticking with me thus far.) The point is that this ironically-named Demotivator was actually motivating!! After all, who cares if I'm not going to the Olympics for being the best in some particular sport. Who cares if someone out there is smarter than me, or knows more about psychology than I do, or learns languages faster? Who cares if I'll never be paid to do a photography session, or if my blog never hits 40,000 followers, or if my cake designs are always weak versions of the ideas I stole from the Internet? Who cares, as long as I enjoy doing it?? I think my recent training for this half marathon is a perfect example of how I should always see life. I am not running this marathon to finish in the top 5--I'm running it to finish it. I should not be living my life to be the best at something, but to enjoy it and make the most of it. It reminds me of a quote I'm seeing pop up around a lot of LDS homes, from Pres. Thomas S. Monson: "Let us relish life as we live it [and] find joy in the journey..."  (source) If we are not doing things because we'll never be the best at them, then we miss out. Or, if we do things only to become the best, then we miss out. There will always be someone faster, stronger, smarter, prettier (or more handsome), or who has better-behaved children, smarter children, more athletic children, or cleaner children. There will always be bigger homes, better decorated homes, cleaner and more organized homes. But does it really matter, so long as we are happy with what we have?

Now, I'm sure there are many that know I'm a big fan of self-improvement--not the cheesy, pop-psychology form of it, but improving one's self through continued education, introspection, and willingness to try new things. It may seem like I'm saying you should never try to improve upon your current circumstances but simply be happy with what you have now. I don't agree with that. Instead, I think we should take Tony Horton's advice: "Do your best, and forget the rest." (If you watch a single DVD from P90X, you'll hear him say this at least once.) Do your best, improve yourself, but do it for the right reason and be happy with the best that you can do.

For me, this means that I need to stop peering over my proverbial fence at the neighbors to jealously stare at what they have that I don't or what they can do that I can't. I need to take joy in my own learning process, be happy with the abilities that I have (once I've made them all they can be), and just enjoy my day to day life.

Ironic that all this came from a poster mockingly called a "Demotivation."

A crumb-y morning

This morning I had to work. Silly me, I thought everything was going smoothly. In case you ever thought it would be a good idea to give an almost-five-year-old and an almost-two-year-old access to a bag of cornbread unsupervised, as long as you told them to stay at the table and not make a mess, then you should see this and think twice.

Sadly, these pictures don't even do it justice. For example, it doesn't even show the huge mess in my kitchen (I hate the grainy feel of cornbread against tile in my bare feet) or the mess that was everywhere else. It took me forever to vacuum, then sweep, then clean the table...I'm getting tired again just thinking about it.

I wanna be like my brother...

Tonight I got a little teary-eyed while our kids said prayers. Why, you ask? Well, first, we were trying to explain to B2 that D follows his example. At the time, B2 was twirling in circles as we were desperately trying to get the boys to kneel down. B2 decided to test our theory, and knelt down. Immediately, D stopped twirling and knelt by his brother. B2 said his prayers, and then helped D say his. It was one of those moments where we felt that we might actually be doing something right as parents.

After prayers, both boys got in bed. D has been insisting that anything B2 gets at bedtime, he gets too. So, B2 got tuck-ins and good night kisses, so D insisted on the same. D decided to one-up his brother and gave Mommy stuck kisses.


I wish every night was this good. I almost feel bad about putting them to bed if they're going to be all cute like this. But then I hear D scream and I'm happy it's bedtime.

Knee Pain--Self-diagnosed

I'm just about 2 months from my marathon, and I've self-diagnosed my knee problems as <a href="http://www.webmd.com/pain-management/knee-pain/runners-knee">runner's knee (patellofemoral pain syndrome)</a>. The symptoms all match up--pain in the knee cap, which is made worse when going down hill or using stairs, usually associated with an increase in running and more common in women. Blah! I decided that there really was a problem on Thursday. I bought a new knee brace this week in preparation for my 5 mile run. I wore the brace during my whole run (which, yay for me!, I completed without walking), and felt my typical soreness toward the last few miles. However, in the last quarter mile, I had a small incline (felt like a huge incline at the time) that really started killing my knee. I felt like I limped my last little bit.

After my run, I did my normal stretch cool down. However, this time I noticed something: my knee kept hurting even after I stopped running and after my body warmed up from being in the cold weather outside. In fact, my knee kept hurting all that night, to the point that I woke up every time I turned over because the process of doing so hurt my knee. Friday I wore my knee brace all day, and had really bad pain whenever I bent my knee--going up stairs, going down stairs, lifting my leg to move my foot from the gas pedal to the brake, etc. Today it's much better, but I still have some slight pain when going up or down stairs, or if I suddenly move my knee or something (like one of my kids) puts too much pressure on my knee.

So, after some internet searches, I realized that Runner's Knee perfectly describes the pain I'm having, and fits with the potential causes. As a result, I'm taking a break from my training routine. Yesterday and today I didn't work out at all (not even P90X). Next week I'll be back on P90X, and I'll try to be better about running nearly every day, but only short distances. Then I'll try to work back up to my schedule. I'm worried that I'm being forced into one of two conditions: 1.) not complete the training workout as outlined, so I don't ever get up to a 10 mile run before my half, and therefore not be as prepared as I would like, or 2.) try to jump back onto the training schedule too quickly that I just aggravate this problem. I think one of the biggest things I have to do is run more frequently. Mainly, I've been doing my big runs once a week and then expecting P90X to carry the rest of my training. I think that's part of my problem. Unfortunately, it's hard finding time to do my runs with my husband's work schedule. I think I'll be running more at night once he gets home.

As for my other goals, I'm doing pretty good. I'm back to calorie counting to try and hit that 135. I bought my new swimsuit for the summer, and I'd really like to drop these last 5 pounds before the summer heat hits. I'm on track to hit my goals for reading the Old Testament and 12 other books. I'm still doing P90X, though not as religiously as at first (I skip some routines and replace others with running), but I'm very excited about having the end in sight! Only three more weeks!! I think that the only goal I may not hit this year is getting to 135 pounds. Honestly, with P90X, running, and the weight I've already lost, I feel really good about how I look and won't be too bummed if I don't see that magic number. The exercise has trimmed me down a bit (even if the scale doesn't show it), but mostly I have more energy, I'm happier, and I'm more comfortable with myself, and that's good enough for me. :)

Another addition to the White house!

The boys got a new bed!

We bought a new bunk bed, custom-made by Colungas Custom Beds, for the boys. Tonight is their first night in it. In fact, it's the first night D has not slept in a crib or play pack. Right now I'm hearing B2 shout, over and over again, "Go to bed! GO TO BED!" Apparently, D won't let him sleep now that he has a choice about whether or not he stays in bed. Haha!