In the Trenches

There are some days I can't believe I signed up for this. Being a mom is hard.

Yesterday was one of those days. I cried off and on all day. I couldn't write. Finally, that afternoon I sat down and read an entire section of The Book of Mormon. Did you know 1st Nephi is 53 pages long? You do now. I finished the last three chapters in Moroni and just flipped back to the beginning.

The Book of Mormon shall be your textbook. That's from my Patriarchal Blessing. Yesterday was a day I really needed it.

You know those movies, particularly old WWII movies, where the kid too young to enlist fakes his age and signs up anyway? You know, deep in the trenches in the middle of a firefight, at some point this kid has to be thinking, "I can't believe I signed up for this!"

Yes, I'm likening motherhood to WWII. Because some days there are victories and glory, but most days it's just trench warfare. And marching. Lots of tedious, repetitive marching. (For me, "marching" is the repetitive chores like dishes, laundry, grocery shopping, getting kids to do homework, etc)

You don't have to agree with me. It's okay. I won't be offended.

I have a new goal, though. I'm going to read The Book of Mormon in October. Because I need it.

See you on the other side. Maybe next week I'll have a "victory" day.

Well, it Hurts

I'm going to pour my heart out, and if it doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. There's things going on right now that I can't talk about, but the worry and despair is eating at me. And if I don't get to regurgitate some of this mess somewhere, I may explode.

First off, everything's fine at home. Well, fine as it can be. We've got our issues, but Bryan and I are solid, and the kids are great. God knows I love my kids. They are the best kids anywhere. I'm so grateful for them.

As many of you know, Bryan's mom's health continues to decline. We're kind of in the waiting phase. I hate the waiting phase. It feels so macabre to plan what you're going to do in the event of the death of a loved one.

But right now, with my whole heart, I wish it was only her death I was anticipating.

Have you ever lamented keeping your silence? I mean, really. Something will happen, and it seems small at the time, but you know how hindsight is always 20/20 and, looking back, you see how asserting your belief could have made a difference. Why do we keep silent? Is it fear? Probably, most of it. We're human, and we fear being disagreed with, or mocked, because of what be believe.

The worst kind of shocks come when everything seems to be going well. But we all know how that feels. And, it seems like, the better things are the worse the hit is when it comes.

So, right now I'm anticipating my first novel this December, going around and preselling the book, talking to ppl about it, feeling pretty on top of the world in some respects.

You can imagine how hard the hit was, and still is. (Don't worry--everything's still on track with the book as far as I know. This is a personal hit)

I ache for those I love who are affected. I'm fasting and constantly praying for them. I'm scared out of my mind I'll get that phone call. And I hate feeling afraid.

In short, I'm a mess. And only God can fix it.

Time Marches On

Being a stepmom is hard; being a good stepmom is somehow harder. It should be easy. You fall in love with a man who has a child (or children) and when you marry him, you take these kids into your heart as well. It didn't quite work out that way for me.

I saw her first. This adorable blonde headed child bounced into my life 14 years ago and I fell in love instantly. Then I met her dad and my fate was sealed. In my naivete, I thought I could develop my own relationship with her and it would be separate from the relationships she had with her parents.

After many years of pain and disappointment, I've come to realize it doesn't work that way. The hardest to cope with has been how other people's decisions hurt my children, and how I can do nothing to change that. I can only help my kids cope with pain and loss and hurt. I've had to tame that "mama bear" inside me that rears up any time somebody hurts my kids.

We all know the stories of bad stepmoms. The ones who see their stepkids as intruders into their lives and would rather not deal with them. There are others who don't fall far from the stepmoms of Grimms' fairy tales--the ones who actively scorn and belittle their stepchildren and make them feel unwanted in their own father's house.

I've always loved my stepdaughter. I've never tried to replace her mom--it's not even possible anyway. I've always known a mother's place is impossible to usurp and never tried. All I wanted was to forge my own relationship with her, but even that has been a difficult journey.

Now she's less than 7 weeks from turning 18. While I'm excited for her to take these next amazing steps in her life, I bemoan all the other steps we've missed. This coming May she'll graduate high school and in a year she'll be in college. Incredible. And at the same time I know it will draw her even farther away from us, and from my kids.

Kids grow up. They leave the nest. And these days kids have more than one nest to leave. In the day and age where the divorce rate is upwards of 50% it's logical to conclude that many children have mom's house and dad's house, and when they grow up there's a separation from both households. For some it's easier. They can't stand stepmom or stepdad and can't wait to get away.

But for the rest of us, it's very different.