It's pouring rain. More than buckets... almost monsoon like. And I love it. It's so loud I can't hear the children throwing legos upstairs anymore. (That isn't the reason why it's so enjoyable.) It's almost like all of the small people are cocooned in our home. They can't really go out, aren't really drawn out by friends or activities, and we're busy doing things together. The outside world is muffled and seems distant.
This week had some highs and lows. It's definitely a balancing act between finding time to do something for myself, mothering (which will take more out of me that I actually have to give), cross-country/rugby/football games, sick kids, potty training and personal growth.
The week started with a very stiff neck- visibly favoring one side, more than Sarah's photo tilts. Despite heat and ice packs and ibuprofen, it took several days to work its self out. I was hoping to recover (for selfish reasons) in time to play ball on Thursday and Friday. I did and played both afternoons. The season is over, I only played for two weeks to prep the HS teams for tournaments. I forgot how much I loved the game and how much I enjoy competitive sports, and that once upon a time, I was actually good at them. Without practice, my muscles have forgotten some of the skills and lost strength that I used to have. I was nervous and hoped that I hadn't forgotten how to play and that my muscles would respond in a timely manner. I was sluggish, but there was definitely improvement in the 10 days of play. There is something to be learned here- an obvious parallel to any Spiritual trait we want to keep in shape or working order. Because I didn't keep up any of the skills I am feeling creaky and old today. I bruised or broke my big toe and could complain about a wrist and shoulder. But I'm only mentioning the toe because it played a larger part of learning this weekend than the recovery of the others. That experience is forthcoming. As I iced my foot on the couch, I notice these two tiny hand prints on the windows... how in the world? That's so high up!
I also spent the two weeks referring to these games as "my workout". Dan and I usually coordinate when we'll be exercising. Sometimes it's together, but usually it's so that one of us is home with the kids while the other is out. After a few conversations that went something like this:
Dan- "I've got a 15k run to do today, preferably this morning. You?"
Amy- "I'll workout this afternoon." (No description of my sport.)
I realised that I was using "workout" because it seemed less selfish than saying, "I'm going to go play volleyball with my friends this afternoon." The second phrase seemed extravagant, like I was choosing to spend time away from the little guys to be with someone else. (Which I was, but didn't want to admit.) So the balance of parenting and spending time on myself continues. I am not lost in this role of mothering. But it does define a large part of who I am now- and forever will. There are still many things about me that I want to evolve, requiring intentional and purposeful planning. I know I need to simplify and be deliberate in my actions so that the times I choose to be gone will be worth my absence.
On Monday Mary had a cross-country meet, Tuesday a rugby game and Abe had a football game on Wednesday afternoon. Mary showed up to her race without shoes and had to borrow shoes from a friend who was there to watch. (I was wearing sandals and the only other spectators with me were Scout, Moses and Teddy.)
Teddy.
We went to Maeser's school conferences. I love his self-portraits more than any selfies.
We're taking a break from potty-training to be sick. Because being 2 is hard enough without either of the other two events.
And I had to snap a photo of these pumpkins while we were at the grocery store yesterday. Please carve a pumpkin for us this year!
Abe finished the marathon club this week. He would run in the morning before school.
Back to my toe. Bruised or broken, I limped around all of Saturday and Sunday. After church Dan unintentionally stepped on toe and immediately apologised, "I'm so sorry about your foot, are you OK?" My response, "It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as my soul." I was almost surprised at what I said. I'd been nursing some pride for several hours and grumbling at the nudge to repent. When things aren't right between you and the Lord, or you and your spouse, or really anyone, then even going about doing the usual and mundane things are painful and distracting. It's like my spirit can't focus on anything until I take the time (or humble myself enough) to make things right. I'm reminded of the story about Joseph Smith trying to translate the plates when he had to step out of his home, pray, and repent before any work could be done. I began to cry and felt so bad about choosing misery over joy. It seems like such an obvious choice, and yet again and again we face the same decisions. We can be enticed to draw closer to the Lord or to choose misery with. every. experience.
I was, both then and now, thankful for the truth that Elder Holland taught:
“However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”
And how thankful I am that conference is here. That there will be so many other opportunities to grow and be lifted by inspired and revelatory leaders this next week.
Love you, Amy
