I love to see the temple

When I became a mother, I was overwhelmed by everything I thought I needed to teach my children and how to teach it. I was especially concerned about teaching them the gospel in a way that would help them to truly believe, and how to feel the Holy Ghost. I mean, how do you teach a toddler to feel and recognize the Holy Ghost? Both James and Anna quickly let me know they do not need any help feeling and recognizing the Holy Ghost, He seems to be their constant companion.

Anna, for example, loves the temple. I cannot convey how much she loves it. She instinctive knows where every temple is between Salt Lake City and Provo, and when we drive she will screech and point her little finger at the temple (even if it is just a speck) and shout "Temple." When pass it, she will crane her neck and continually "Where's the temple? Where is it?" If I drive within five blocks of the temple her excitement is uncontainable and if I don't stop at the temple and let her walk around the grounds, she lapses into tears and (occasionally) near hysterics. The only way to console her is my by singing "I Love To See the Temple" repeatedly.

The first few times Anna lapsed into tears, I thought she was just tired; it was late, we did not have time to stop. Unfortunately, that was always my excuse, I don't have time to stop. I don't have time to get both kids out of the car and walk around. I have errands to run, a house to clean, dinner to cook, etc. One Saturday as I was driving on the freeway back from Provo to Lehi, Anna was excitedly pointing at the temple, then she started singing her own version of "I love to see the temple," which basically goes like this: "Temple, mommy, daddy, Dames (James), Nana (Anna), Temple, Jesus, Temple." As she sang I realized, she truly loves the temple, that she feel the spirit when she merely glimpes it. And I also realized that I had to take her to the temple. My job as a parent was not teach James and Anna to feel the spirit; they already know and recongize it. My job was to recongize when they were feeling and to help them heed it. If I kept driving passed the temple, to busy to stop, eventually Anna would stop pointing at it and singing her temple song. Eventually she would stop feeling the spirit because I had taught her to ignore it.

That following Monday we took James and Anna to the temple for FHE and they loved running around the temple ground, smelling the flowers, and touching the building. Now I find myself taking James and Anna to at least one temple every week (with six between Provo and Salt Lake there is a lot choices). If I find myself within five blocks of a temple, even if I did not plan it, I stop. When either child is tired or needs a rest, I go the church website and show them pictures of the temples around the world. This always calms them down and they will sit for 30 minutes or more (no small feat for two active kids) just to look at pictures of the temples. But it has also helped me. On days when I am tired and cranky, going to the temple or looking at temple pictures rejuvenates me and helps me restore my patience. And I remember how much I love to see the temple as well.

Family Outings

One of the best things about Brigham finally being done with law school and the Bar, is that we can finally plan family outings. Before, if took a family outing, it had to be short, local and was usually infrequent. For the last several weekends we have actually been able to plan all day activities with kids. One weekend we went up to Temple Square in Salt Lake City (I forgot my camera that day). A couple Saturdays ago, we went up to the Temple Quarry in Sandy and then went up Little Cottonwood canyon to the Albion Basin.

Anna and James loved climbing on the rocks throughout the quarry. It has a small paved path that loops around. (I can't believe that Anna's hair is long enough to put in french braids and that she actually let put her hair in braids.)

James also loved walking through the tall grass at the quarry.

The Albion Basin is one of the beautiful places I have been in Utah. It is at the very end of Little Cottonwood Canyon and at this time of year, is a vibrant blanket of wild flowers. I wish I was not so pregnant so that we could have hiked a little bit more.

As we were coming down from a short hike, a couple passed us and asked if we had seen any wildflowers up ahead. Both Brigham and I looked around us, yes, there were wild flowers up ahead but, um, there are wild flowers EVERYWHERE. We wondered if they were looking a specific flower because this picture above is what the entire basin looked like.

James and Anna loved the basin and walking through all the flowers. Next time we go, we will plan to go a little earlier, bring more food and water, and not go on Saturday (parking is very limited in the basin and fills up quickly on the weekend). But we had a great time.

Something is missing

I try to eat healthy. I try to buy lots of fresh vegetables and fruit. I try to buy in season as much as I can. And I try to buy local produce not because it is more "sustainable" but the produce tastes better when it was picked the day before than a week or more. The problem I have is finding local produce. There are road side stands and I stop at them but they seem limited to corn and watermelon (at least right now). I want garden fresh zucchini, summer squash, lettuce, and onion and hopefully (soon) tomatoes. To that end I have gone to three different farmer's markets in the last few weeks and one thing was missing at all of them: the farmer!

There are plenty of art and homemade craft stands, food stands, pastry and artisan bread stands, local honey, locally raised beef and local canned goods but very few farmers (or in one case, none). And the produce that they offer seems limited to small beets, expensive and wilted lettuce, tasteless peaches, and potted herbs. Not what I was hoping for.

Anna Screams

For ice cream....

She really is screaming in this photo

She chose the biggest spoon she could find.

Getting every last drop.

Early Morning Thoughts

A few nights ago, James woke me up at 2 o'clock in the morning to go to the bathroom. Since he had fallen asleep in his clothes and underwear I was very happy he woke me up instead of wetting his bed. After I got him settled back into sleep and tried to get back to sleep myself I started noticing a lot of noise coming from our upstairs neighbors. Now our apartment building is fairly soundproof, we only hear our upstairs neighbors when they are running water or near a vent. I kept hearing the toilet flush and crying. Just when my sleep befuddled mind started to wonder if something was wrong the doorbell rang. Brigham answered. It was one of the girls from upstairs. Her single mom was very sick, can he help? He went upstairs and came back a few minutes later to grab his keys and phone; he needed to take her to the ER. She had a severe case of food poisoning. I asked about her two daughters (the oldest is 13 or 14), were they alright? They were very concerned but they would fine.

After he left I could not go back to sleep. I knew how frightening this had to be for our upstairs neighbor, not only to be severely sick but to home alone with two young daughters and sick wondering who she could go to for help. While Brigham was deployed this was the thought that kept me up at night. What if I got sick or injured or went into labor, who could I call? Many people had told me I could call them if I needed anything but at 2 o'clock in the morning... it is a little bit harder to call someone for help. But the thought that frightened me, no terrified me, almost every night as I lay in bed was "what if something happened to me?" What if I slipped and was knocked unconscious, or had a seizure or was in some way incapacitated and could not call for help? I was not worried how long it would take someone to help me. I worried how long James would cry in the crib before someone came, would it be hours, days? Would the downstairs neighbors hear him and check up on us? Who would help my little boy? How long would he suffer? My one comfort was that Brigham was able to call me every day. I knew that if he could not reach me after 2-3 tries he would start calling people to come check on me (he knew my fears).

Many times during the deployment people said to me, "Oh, it's like you're (playing) at being a single mom." (Yes, someone actually said I was "playing" at being a single mom). I have the greatest respect and admiration for single parents: it is the hardest job imaginable to me but I was not at any time during the deployment a single mom. I prefer "temporarily only parent" for this reason: I was not single. I was and am married. Although my husband was not physically there, I knew of his love and concern for me and our children, he was emotionally, spiritually, mentally there for me. Although there is immense comfort in physical proximity of a spouse (even when he remains asleep despite the crying child laying next to him), there is even greater comfort in a spouse who is deeply concerned about you, and your children, and does all they can to help despite a temporary physical separation. And I knew that it was temporary, I had a general idea of when it would end (the military is not good at giving firm dates). The same is not true for single parents who not only face the challenges of life and parenthood by themselves but also have to suffer the alienation of affectation, commitment, and love from their former spouse and feel a deep sense of betrayal and abandonment. Even in a so-called "amicable" divorce, the estrangement from a person who once they felt such hope for their future life together is heart wrenching. Supportive family and friends can never truly take the place of loving and committed spouse.

These thoughts came to me that night because I know that in a few months I will once again become "temporarily only parent" when Brigham starts his training with Navy. When people ask me how I feel about that I just shrug my shoulders. I'm alright with it. No, I am not looking forward to being home alone with three kids, one a newborn. No, I am not looking forward to the return of the terrifying nightly thoughts of "what if something happens to me" that I know will besiege me. And yes, I know it will be hard. But I also know that my husband will be even worse off because I at least have the comfort of my children while he will be alone. But we both know that it will temporary. We have been through it before.