They’re Home

Due to a bit of miscommunication, the kids came home a day later than I had expected. I may have had a few hours of freaking out and imagining they were dead in a ditch someone in the mountains Sunday when I thought they would be home and I couldn't get ahold of anyone. Thankfully, Eric was able to get one bar at the bathrooms and let me know when they would be home. 

They got home at about 5:00 last night. I was so relieved to see them. I miss them so much when they are gone! 

The Talk and the Speech

This week I have to give a talk in church and deliver a speech for my communications class. The speech for my class is basically my final. It has to be about 7 minutes long, in front of a live audience of at least one person, and be persuasive. The topic I chose was "Do Not Drive Tired." I use the story of losing my mom and brother as the basis for the speech which not only helps my credibility, it also helps evoke emotion. My talk for church is about our divine nature as children of God. It is supposed to be 7 to 10 minutes and based on Elder Renlund's talk from the women's session of the last conference. 

As a Young Women's leader, I was excited to see that the talk I was given as a reference was based on the Young Women theme. I started writing it about a week a go, and it really came together Saturday. I feel like it will be a decent talk as long as I practice it throughout the week rather than awkwardly reading it at the pulpit like I normally do. 

I have been told that the speech for the class is good and evokes emotion. I have two more official practices before I perform it in front of a “live audience" (most likely my husband and children). My hope is that I will be able to perform the speech with more eye contact that the last one (I really need to work on this). 

Honestly, I am nervous to perform both the talk and the speech. I just need to have the faith that the delivery will reflect the work I have put into them. 

Top Gun Maverick Review (some spoilers)

Last night, Chad and I were finally able to set aside the time to see Top Gun: Maverick.( I kind of feel like we were some of the last people to see this movie.) Between his work schedule and my school schedule, it is hard for us to be able to find enough time to do things like this. With the kids gone with people I fully trust, I was able to sit down and do all of my homework with a clear mind, and even though he was working in Boulder, Chad got home from work at a decent time last night, so we bought tickets and headed out. 

For the most part, I liked the movie. It had just the right amount of action. It seems like a lot of action movies lately have so much action that it gets overwhelming. Having the action scenes at just the right times is exciting and fun! I loved that they found this balance in this movie. 

The bad:

They spent too much time at the beginning trying to recreate scenes from the original movie while setting up the story. As they did so, the dialog felt forced, and the acting was not as good. 

The good:

There was so much good in this movie! There was a scene where Goose's son, Rooster, is at the piano at the bar singing "Great Balls of Fire." Maverick is outside and flashes back to when Goose did the same and gets emotional. This is when the movie transitions into a real movie rather than a forced attempt to try to recreate the first movie combined with setting up the story line. 

The conflict between Rooster and Maverick felt natural and had a bit of a twist as we find out Maverick pulled Rooster's papers from the Naval Academy rather than it being simply because he was the cause of Goose's death. 

I liked the build up to the mission. Showing the dangers and difficulty in the training setting made the actual mission scene intense and exciting to watch. 

There are a lot more scenes that I liked, but I don't want to break down the entire movie. 

The funny:

This is not completely related to Top Gun, but it is in a way. I have been watching Cougar Town lately. There is one episode where they talk about Tom Cruise's "movie run" specifically how he "chops the air" as he runs. They even do the run in formation later in the episode. As Maverick ran away from danger, he ran this way, and I had to hold back my laughter. 

Overall, I loved this movie. I just wish they had not spent so much time trying to recreate scenes from the original. 

No Surrender

 

As I lose my autonomy more and more, I have been trying to decide how to handle this. As far as not even getting solace on my blog, I have decided that I’m just going to handle it with grace and ignore what I can’t control. I’m not going to hold back in what I write. I write my truth. I won’t mention certain people, but I will write about my feelings, my children, and my beliefs. Those are the reasons I wanted to write again, and I am not going to stop. 

When it comes to losing it at work, I’m not sure I have much of a choice. I have gone through ups and downs with this company for the last eight years. I have looked for a new job but didn’t get hired anywhere before accepting my current position. I take this as a sign that I need to keep this job. It pays enough to take care of the kids and bills, and gives me the flexibility to take care of Noel’s health issues. I have been given the assurance from my boss that I do not have to report why I am leaving early in the public chat when needed as long as I keep the private conversation going that we have always had. I just have to report enough to appease the new VP. Since they don’t even understand what I do, reporting each invoice I work on probably won’t even make a difference. Reporting every time I walk away from my desk is stupid, and I refuse to do it. After a text telling my boss that I will not report every time I need to pee, my boss called me laughing saying he REALLY  doesn’t want to know that either. This made me feel better but not great. 

I feel like I’m losing myself again. I don’t like feeing boxed in. I will not let it happen in this space. This has been the only place I can really be me for many years, and I will not give it up for anyone or any reason.

Camping with the Grandparents

 My children have wonderful grandparents who love them dearly on both sides of their family. Unfortunately, my parents are unable to travel because of my step-mother's heath. Thankfully, their other grandparents are not only close enough for my kids to have a good relationship with them, they love camping with their family. Starting the year I was divorced, they have taken my kids with them every summer for a big campout where they invite their kids and grandkids.

The first year they went, I drove out with them to Granby, spent one night, and went home with the assurance that Eric, Sean, and Noel would be cared for by their grandparents The kids got to spend time with their cousins, and I was able to have a few days where I could go to work and not worry about my 5, 7, and 9 year old children. It was a nice relief from the pressures of being a single parent. 

The following year, their grandparents offered to take the kids again for this big family campout. (I think this was the year their father went, but I may be wrong about the year he went.) They had a lot of fun, felt special, and got to go somewhere they would not have been able to go otherwise. 

This has become a tradition. There were some years that I was asked the scout camp schedules to make sure that there was not a conflict, and they were kind enough to schedule around it. One year, they were with them on my birthday, and I was sent pictures of my children with a happy birthday message. For the most part, this is something my children look forward to. I am not convinced that they all like camping, but I know they like spending time with people they love that love them. 

Last year, Eric was not able to go. He had moved out, was looking for a job, and didn't want to leave his girlfriend behind. Noel said it just wasn't the same. This year, not only did Eric and his girlfriend go, they picked up Sean and Noel before heading over to their grandparents' house to caravan with them and their aunt, uncle, and cousin. 

After the funeral last week, we took all of the kids out to eat and made the arrangements for Eric and Peyton to pick up the siblings. They talked about whether Sean and Noel would ride with them just to the grandparents' house or all the way to the camping destination. Noel really wanted to ride with Eric. Sean seemed to not really have an opinion who he rode with until Eric told Sean he would have his own seat row in their vehicle. That cinched it. Sean was excited that he would have so much room. 

Yesterday, Eric picked up his siblings around 8:30. He loaded up everything in the trunk other than what they wanted to have with them for the drive, they gave me hugs, and they were gone. 

It makes me happy they are able to get along well enough to do this together. I love that they have grandparents that are willing and able to take the kids all of these places even when they have to pivot and camp closer to home. I hope to someday be able to see as much of this beautiful country as my children have been able to see. 

These Kids

I love my children more than anything in the world. They know that I do, and they know that my love is unconditional. 

A few years ago, they fought a lot. They would often say they hated each other. Eric would say things like if he didn’t have to spend time with them, he wouldn’t. It would make me so sad and angry. I would remind them all of the times I wished my brother were still here, and tell them they needed to treat each other better because if something happened to one of them, they would wish they had been kinder. Often these speeches were met with eye rolls and snarky comments. 

Maybe they just needed more space or time to grow up a bit. They are not like that now. Now, they laugh and joke with each other. If one is hurting and the others know it, they try to help them. They will even defend their siblings if needed. 

I am loving watching this transition from enemy to friend! It has made all of the, “If my brother were alive…” conversations worth it. I hope this continues for many years. 

Proud of Myself

For Valentines Day, Chad got me a cheese board that I have wanted for a while. It is beautiful, and I love it. The problem is that I was having a hard time finding just the right time to use it. I was going to use it for Mother's Day, but I forgot to buy stuff for it. (I know. Typical Rosa.) I considered it for Memorial Day, but we had so many left overs from Sean's party that we just had that all weekend. That means that July 4th was my next chance to celebrate with charcuterie arrangement. 

Since I had to work, I had to send Chad to the store with a list. Thankfully, I can do this without worrying. It is just something we usually do together, so I wasn't a fan of just sending him to the store. He did a good job picking out the perfect fruit. When the cheese was out that I had on the list, he found a better cheese. It was actually the one I wanted. I just wasn't sure if he would be able to find it.

When I got off work, I washed my hands, got out a knife and cutting board, and went to work on my master piece. I am not normally the person who likes doing this kind of thing, and I have said in the past that I wasn't going to get sucked up into this trend. Just like when I have said this in the past, I got sucked in as everyone seems to be walking away from it. Really, it was more fun than I though it would be. An added plus was that I was able to serve a bit of something that everyone liked. No one complained. We had pleasant conversation where we laughed and joked with each other. It was such a pleasent experience that I hope to not wait for a "special occasion" to do this again. 

Positive Communication

I have been taking a communications class this semester. I originally only signed up for the class because it was my last 100-level class that I needed to take for my degree, and I needed something easy to balance out the Research Methods class I had to retake that I was dreading. When I opened the syllabus in April, my insecurities seeped in. Seeing the weekly Zoom meetings and number of speeches I would need to prepare and give made me nervous. I did not think I could do it. I was wrong. Not only am I doing it, I am thriving in this class and learning so much. After giving my first speech, my instructor asked if I would like some continual coaching when the class was over. She is a motivational speaker and has a coaching business on the side. She said she offered her talented students free coaching for about a month during the summer, something for which she would normally charge about $300. Not only did this make me feel good about taking this class, it makes me feel like she helped me find a hidden talent that I would like to develop. It is amazing what a few encouraging words can do!

Row vs. Wade Thoughts

 I feel the need to voice  my opinion about abortion laws/rights in light of Row vs Wade being overturned and the reactions on social media of which many have chosen to attack people of faith. 

 I have never been pregnant with a baby I did not want, so I cannot say I formed an opinion based on personal experience from that point of view. I base my opinions on my religious views and my personal feelings from being pregnant with my children along with my ability to understand that there are other reasons for people to seek this option other than just plain not want to have a baby.

I do not believe abortion should be used as birth control. I believe both men and women should be more careful with their sexual practices. For the most part, people having sex know that a baby could result from it. I understand that birth control could fail. I was told by my mom that I am the result of birth control failing in some way. 

I am not sure where the line is drawn between a baby being trash and a baby deemed valuable enough to let live. It seems like if a pregnancy is not expected or wanted, it is not reasonable to expect a woman to keep the pregnancy. If the woman is excited about a pregnancy, it is a loved and real from the beginning. If a woman was excited about her pregnancy when she was murdered, we hear all about it no matter how far along she was: her due date, the sex of the baby, the baby's name (if it is known). For example, when Shannan Watts and her daughters were murdered, along with the wonderful things said about them, we heard about that baby, including the sex and name. There was even outrage that he was not charged in the baby's death. However, if a woman is pregnant and as far along as Shannan was with an "unwanted" pregnancy, it is perfectly acceptable for her to kill the baby by having an abortion. I do not understand this logic. 

I believe that all life is precious and should be treated as such. (To put that into perspective, I also don't believe in the death penalty, but I won't go into that right now.) Abortion for birth control spits in the face of that belief. God created life, and that should be respected. President Kimble said, "Abortion must be considered one of the most revolting and sinful practices in this day...to submit to or perform an abortion except in rare cases...should be done only after counseling...and after receiving divine confirmation through prayer." He sends us these precious spirits to teach and love, not to throw away like trash. 

I understand that there are pregnancies that are a result from one night stands or a drunken mistake or whatever other "mistakes" happen. Here’s an idea, don't have sex if you don't want there to be a chance that a baby could be the result. Is this a lot to ask? Maybe, but that is how I see it. That is truly taking control of your body and your choices. By the way, I think men should do the same. When sex results in a pregnancy, they should be held responsible at least financially.

When a baby is the result of rape or incest, if there is no possibility of the baby surviving outside the womb, or if the mother's life is in danger, abortion could be an option. This should only be done after careful consideration. I could understand why this would be necessary in these cases. I have known someone who carried a baby to term knowing she would not survive outside the womb. She was crushed knowing that her precious girl could not live on her own. When she was told  by the insurance that he only way they would cover the "birth" would be if she carried the baby to term or miscarried, it added to her pain. She loved her baby more each day, knowing that their time together was limited. After the baby was born, she live only a short time, and the mother had to heal from a C-section and go through the process of forcing her milk to dry up without the reward of caring for her daughter. Her pain was real. She would have been in pain either way, but it seemed to be extended by the insurance company's decision to not allow a medical procedure that may or may not have helped the healing process. It was legal for her to have an abortion, but she was not able to do it. My question: Where were all of the people who claim to care about these mothers when she needed the money and support? My (possibly cynical) answer: They didn't care because she was not their target. They only care about supporting the women who didn't want the baby. 

Am I happy about the "trigger laws" that resulted from the overturning of Row vs. Wade? Not necessarily. Outlawing all abortions can be dangerous. If the mother dies as a result of a pregnancy, the baby would most likely die, too. How is that saving a life? If there is no chance of a baby surviving after birth, why put the family through the prolonged pain of anticipating a birth knowing there would be death at the same time? If the baby is the result of rape or incest, there should not be a forced, constant reminder of the trauma they endured more than the resulting PTSD that is inevitable thanks to the horrible person who thought it was their right to force themselves on someone. That being said, there should be careful consideration in these cases to assure more mental or spiritual trauma would be caused by this choice because it is a permeant decision. 

Funeral Day

 Today, I will be going to the funeral for a great man. He was caring, honest, genuine, sweet, and just all around one of the best people I have known. When I think of him, I think about his smile, and the way he would explain things. 

Last summer, he came to Girls Camp to teach the girls how to build a fire. He taught them how to make kindling if there was nothing around to use. He taught them how to build everything up around the kindling. He showed them the best way to keep it going as we kept it going from lunch time until we were ready to go to bed. I remember the look on his face the next morning when someone had already started a fire by the time he got up but had used a huge bundle of sticks rather then the method he had just taught the day before. Then, he just simply said it was a beautiful fire. 

I have known this man for 15 years, basically since I moved here. It’s hard to imagine not seeing him around. It’s harder knowing his wife is hurting, and I can’t do anything to take my friend’s pain away. 

Education Journey

I’m a senior in college. That is a sentence I would not have even imagined I would have said 15 to 20 years ago. I wanted to go back to school so badly. I had only planned to take a year or two off when I decided not to go right after high school, but life and circumstances changed. Before I knew it, I was married with three kids, and that husband was completely against me furthering my education. The thing is, the desire to grow as a person did not go away.

After each child was born, I felt a greater desire to be better in so many ways. By the time my third baby was five months old, I was starting to wonder where the girl who loved to learn went. I loved my children (and still do). I wanted them to have a better life than we were providing them, and I was starting to realize that would not happen at the rate we were going. He was working a job that we were barely scraping by on, and I was a stay-at-home mom who wasn’t even allowed to work.

One night, after going to bed, I gave him an ultimatum; either he needed to go to school or I would. I honestly thought he would let me go because he hated school and hadn’t even finished high school. That was not how it happened. He ended up going to community college. It was not what I expected, but I cheered him on as he embarked on the journey with the expectation that he would at minimum have an associate degree in the end. The goal was to better the family, right? 

About a year and a half later, I sat in a woman’s conference a had a strong feeling that I needed to go back to school while listening to President Monson speak. (I think this will always be my favorite talk because it is my inspiration to further my education.) That night, I went home and prayed about it. I even thought I knew what program would work best with the responsibilities I had at home. Then, I approached the husband with my plan. I was told I couldn’t do it. After all, who would take care of the kids while I was in school? Plus, I would obviously cheat on him if I did. (Maybe, a bit of a confession on his part…)

A few years later, I found myself needing to get a job to help support my family, and a year and a half after that, I was a single mother just trying to survive. At this point, I was enrolled in online classes, but I resented the man who told me I couldn’t go previously and had made it difficult once I did so anyway. I felt as though if he had allowed it instead of him going or even once I started begging in 2007, I would have been in a better position to fulfill the financial obligations of being the sole provider for my children.

Fast forward a few more years. I am now married to an amazing man who wants me to fulfill my dreams. I finished the degree I was working on during my divorce and thought I would try to find a way to use it. I mean, it was a degree in business management, a quite versatile degree. The government blocked that plan when many for profit schools were closed down without notice and our transcripts were destroyed leaving us in debt with a piece of paper no longer worth the thousands of dollars we still have to pay in the form of student loans. This was frustrating and left me feeling defeated once again, but once again I dusted myself off and rose to the challenge. After having the accreditation stripped from the school I received my associates degree from, my husband and I both had the strong impression that I should attend the Pathways program through BYU-I and pursue a bachelors degree. Which brings me to where I am today. 

Here I am. A senior in college. It has taken many years to get here, and I still have almost two years to go as a part-time student, but I am doing it. I am accomplishing my dream! I will be able to say I finished! 

So Many Thoughts

I am who I am, and I resent being told that this is wrong. I am proud to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. There are people who think that this is a reason to attack me or my friends. I know people that choose to attack anyone who believes in God and Jesus Christ. I find it interesting that those who do this claim it is because "all Christians are hateful." They say that we all discriminate against this broad group or that broad group. I find it interesting that these people would discriminate against a large group of people to prove a point about discrimination. 

What does this mean about how I believe? I know God, the Father, and Jesus Christ are real. I know Jesus died for my sins and suffered all that I have and will suffer. I know that he did so for each and every person who has and will grace this earth. He is not just the Savior of straight, white men. He is the Savior of all mankind. It hurts me when I hear people of any religious affiliation say otherwise. 

I was not raised to judge people based on their race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc. I was, also, raised a bit naïve to the issues of those who are different may have had. It wasn't until I was working in call centers and faced head on with some of these issues that I began to understand some of these issues in even the smallest way. 

I believe there is no real way for me to fully understand someone else's life or point of view. I can listen. I can try to relate. I cannot say that I know everything about them. No one can say they know everything and have felt everything about my life either. 

I am the daughter of a mother who came out in the 90s. My mom confided in me when I was 13 before she fully came out and left my dad to live with her girlfriend. It took me many years after her death to realize that this may have been hard for her instead of seeing how hard it was for me. I will always live with the abandonment issues caused by her leaving. It was not easy being an almost 14 year old told that my mom was gone, my brother and sister knew where she was, but she would not tell me where she was because I was the most likely to tell my dad. These experiences shaped me in ways that I can't really explain. 

My brother was my protector. At one time, he told me that if a dude was threatening me, I should go to him, but if it was a girl, I needed to have my sister protect me. I was seen as the weaker sibling because I was the "girly" one. I didn't take offense to this. It was just the dynamic we had. 

The summer I turned 15, he proved that he would fight for me. A man was brought into our house to supposedly help my brother with his problems. We were expected to call him our brother and treat him as such. (At this point, my mom and her girlfriend were staying in a room in our basement with the understanding they were to be in separate twin beds.) One day, I thought I was the only one home when I woke up. I took a shower and went down the hall to my room in just a towel. Out of habit, I locked the bedroom door, and I am glad I did. The man staying in our home had seen me walk down the hall and followed me. He tried to get in my room. I was holding the doorknob hoping it wouldn't turn, pressed up against the door that was bending under his weight, and screaming for help. At this point, Anthony came home from wherever he had been. He heard the commotion and ran to find out what was going on. He ran down the hall, pulled the man off the door, threw him against the wall, and punched him. He was truly my hero in that moment. A few months later, he once again had the chance to prove he would protect me. I came home from school to only the man in question being there. He had not put the bed away into the couch that day, so it was right there as I walked into the door. He grabbed me and threw me against the bed, held my arms over my head with one hand and tried to do other things to me with the other hand as he licked my face. Once again, I was screaming and crying not knowing what I could do to stop what I knew this was leading to. Luckily, Anthony came home to from school to change for work at this time. He pulled him off of me and fought him once again. We never told our parents, but I will always see my brother fist and foremost as my protector. 

Three years later was the worst year of my life. I lost both of these integral people in an instant. My mom had made some major changes in her life which included trying to heal our relationship the year before. We had been talking about me moving in with her and going to community college once I graduated high school. My bother had moved into his first apartment a few months prior to this event. I had declared that my senior year would be unforgettable. Little did I know, this would be true for completely different reasons than I had expected. August 29, 1996, I went to work in a costume my mom had made for me to make balloon animals for the customers. My mom stopped by to let me know she was leaving that night for her trip instead of the next day, and Anthony would be going with them. The next morning, I woke to my brother's dog whining and was annoyed. I said that I couldn't wait until they got back because I didn't want to have to deal with his dog that early in the morning. Later that day, my dad came to the school, took my sister and I out of class, and told us something that would change our lives forever. Our mom and brother were involved in a car accident. My mom's "roommate" had fallen asleep at the wheel. My brother was ejected, his neck broken in many places, he did not make it. Our mother had been crushed by the guardrail and had died on impact. In this one moment, as my sister and I were complaining about the annoying dog that missed her person, we had lost half of our family and didn't even know it yet. It did not matter that we no longer lived with them. It did not matter that our mom had spent the past four or five years trying to decide what she wanted her role to be in our family. It did not matter that our brother had abandoned our beliefs. They were gone, and it hurt. It still hurts.

Do not tell me that I do not understand real loss. Do not tell me I don't understand what it feels like for someone to overpower you, not knowing how to defend yourself. Do not tell me I have not seen the anguish of someone being forced into a box that did not fit them. I have experienced all of these things. They have shaped who I am and what I believe. 

People can judge me all they like. I don't like it, but I can't change it. Everyone judges others in one way or another. Those who say they don't are either in denial or lying.  

Dog Love

We really have the sweetest dogs! Aqua is often a ball of energy. She thinks that everyone who comes to visit is there for her, and she doesn’t seem to understand that they don’t want her to jump on them. We have to either send her outside or lock her in our room when most people come over. It’s not unusual for her to spend time running up and down the hall a few times a day. When she wants us to pay attention to her, she will sit in front of us smiling and do the cutest little bark. She doesn’t understand that she is a big dog, so this often is followed with her climbing on our laps. Sophie is a sweet little dog that has bonded to me so much that she hates it when I am not in the same room as her. If the door is closed, she will scratch at it until she is let in. It is not unusual for her to assume she gets to go with me. She is a bit spoiled. Dexter thinks he is the protector of the house. He barks at everybody and everything. He is harmless but doesn’t want the outside world to know. 

Yesterday, they all sensed I was sad. As I laid down in bed, they each had their own special way of letting me know they cared. Dexter laid down quietly on the floor. Aqua curled up to my side. Sophie walked across Aqua, nosed my phone out of my hand, and curled up next to my shoulder. Then, we all slept for about an hour. No one distributed us. It was just the dogs and me. I did not realize how much I needed that until it happened. 

I am feeling better today and better able to focus on helping my dear friend. I am thankful my family gave me the time I needed to be alone and the dogs who just wanted me to feel better. I am truly blessed. 

Why

 I often sit and wonder why this is my life. Why have I face so much death? There has to be a reason. I know the Lord has a plan for me. I just wish that it wasn’t filled with so much heartache sometimes. They say grief is proof that we love and have been loved. I guess that means that I love and am loved very much. 

I called my boss today because I am struggling to wrap my head around simple things that are even the littlest bit out of my daily routine. I told him about my friend, and I started to cry. He told me to take the rest of the day off. I apologized for not getting much work done today and asked if they even believe me anymore when I tell them stuff like this. He told me that not only does he believe me, I am one of only three of his employees that he does believe at face value. That means a lot to me, so why am I still lying here on my bed crying? 

My hubby thinks I just need to leave the house. Not only do I not want to right now, I don’t want to fulfill my responsibilities for the rest of the day. I just want to be lay here numb. I don’t know how else to grieve. 

I’m Sad

Yesterday was an emotional day for a few reasons. First and most important, my friend’s husband passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. (I’m not going to identify the friend because it is not my place to do so.) I want to help her so bad, but I don’t know what I can do to help. She had me respond to another text she received about another funeral at our church. I took care of that, and I offered to take care of the Young Women as long as needed. I will not be as good at it as she is, but I can do my best. For now, that is all I can do. I am sad that he is gone. I am sad that my friend has to live with this agony. I don’t even know what I would do if I lost my husband. For me, it is one of those unimaginable pains that I hope not to feel for many years. 

Second, my children had to face the backlash of my last entry. I really didn’t see that coming. Sean was very upset that he “finally” got to speak on the phone to his dad just to be told not to come to their weekly meet up. I hugged him as he cried. I remember the feeling of abandonment when my mom would do stuff like that. I remember feelings of “why is my sibling good enough, but I’m not.” It is a pain I never wanted my children to feel, but I can’t prevent it from happening. On top of that, my daughter was confronted about it. Neither one of them knew what I had done on a hunch. I’m not going to take it down because I write for me, but I wish I had know what the backlash would have been. I don’t get many views on this blog, and unless I am writing for school, I treat this as a journal of sorts. If the ex and his wife want to continue to cyber stalk me, I guess I will take it as a compliment from now on. I must be a really interesting person. 

Today, I am sad. I’m sad my kids are hurting. I am sad my friend is hurting. I wish I could take their pain away. 

Stop It!

To my ex-husband's wife:

Stop It! Stop reading my blog. Stop taking the lies that your husband says about me and my religion and attempting to use them against me. Stop acting like you know me, my personality, my likes and dislikes, my political affiliation, etc. I have only talked to you a few times about trivial things. You have not taken the time to get to know me. You are more interested in talking crap about me than actually trying to find out what is true. Stop treating my kids like crap and talking bad about them when they are not there. 

I love my kids more than I love myself. They are my world. The main complaint my ex-husband voiced while we were married was that I ignored him to take care of the children too much. He said I was not strict enough with them, and I coddled them too much. I agree with this assessment. My current husband has said the same thing many times. 

Just so you know, I continually deal with the mental trauma he put me though for the 12ish years we were married. I do not care if you believe that he was the abusive one. I just need you to stop telling my daughter that I am a horrible person.

Thank you for being a fan of my blog. 

Rosa

P.S. I blocked you on FB because there is no reason for you to be looking me up on there so much, and I thought it was creepy. 

My Sweet Sean

Since I was pregnant with Sean, his father has made it obvious that he was not as interested in this child. He even accused me of having an affair saying the baby was not his. (Looking back, I think he was cheating and would have felt better I was as well.) This attitude continued after he was born. 

Sean's dad seemed to be excited for him to be born and went to all of the doctor appointments leading up to his birth. However, within a few hours of Sean's birth, he left the hospital to get Eric and go home. This left Sean and I alone in the hospital for the night. The next day, he brought Eric to the hospital, and I took care of both boys for a while. 

Once we were all home, I thought we were as happy as we could be with a toddler and a newborn. As I struggled to take care of the boys, he would put on a video in the mornings as Eric and I cuddled on the floor and Sean slept in the swing next to me so I could get some sleep. When Sean had RSV, the dad would take care of Eric at night if needed as I slept in a chair with my sick baby. He even worked two jobs for about the first 6 months of Sean's life to try to pay off some debt. 

During the first year or two of Sean's life, it was rare for me to be seen without him. If I tried to go out without the boys, Sean would scream the whole time I was gone. When I would get home, I would walk in to my husband at the time looking disheveled, and Sean sweating and red faced from crying for an hour or two. I would feel so bad knowing all my precious boy wanted was me, so I rarely left him behind. This never happened when he was left with grandparents.

Now, let's fast forward to the past year. I was told last summer that the kids' step-mother and step-sister were counting down the days until Sean turned 18. They had figured that Sean would stop going to their house on the weekends as Eric did not long after his 18th birthday. Instead, Sean kept going and was tagged as the reason for strife in their house. In reality, he was not going to make them miserable. He was going to try to spend time with his father. 

In January, Sean erupted in anger towards his step-brother and the friends of the step-brother that were there for a birthday party. At this point, Sean was told he did not have to return to their house. To me, Sean was kicked out. To Sean, he was finally given to choice to not have to be there. 

After this, the kids' father would only communicate with Noel about Tuesday nights (a time he has spent with the kids since the divorce). He often cancels, and if Noel forgets to tell him, Sean puts his shoes on when it is time to be picked up and paces the living room until he finally gives up and asks Noel what is going on. It is heartbreaking to watch. Even when Noel does remember to tell Sean, he is sad and frustrated that his dad does not care enough to tell him that he is canceling himself. 

Tonight, we got in a conversation about relatives with mental illness at dinner. We talked about my mom and his dad. We talked about the issues their mental illness has caused us. I mentioned how my mom leaving and not telling us where she was for a while affected me (essentially causing abandonment issues). He said he felt the same issues because he has never felt his dad actually cared about him. This broke my heart. I have been trying for all of these years to make up for what his was not getting from his dad thinking that my efforts would be enough. Apparently, I was wrong. Even with my husband and I doing everything would could to assure Sean knows he is loved, he still feels the lack of it from his father. 

I really wish there was something I could do to counteract the rejection my child has experienced since before he was born, but there isn't. Not even the love from another father figure makes up for what his biological father lacks. My mommy heart is breaking for my sweet Sean tonight. 

I am Not Broken

A man tried to rape me. 

It broke me.

I was sent away while he was allowed to stay.

It broke me. 

My mom and brother died. 

It broke me. 

I was accused of only caring about her money. 

It broke me. 

I was told I was selfish in my grief. 

It broke me. 

I was told the one person who would let me grieve was bad. 

It broke me. 

I lost the close relationship I had with my dad.

It broke me.

I was mentally and emotionally abused by my spouse.

It broke me. 

I am no longer that broken person.

I am gathering up the pieces.

I am sealing it with gold. 

I am stronger and more valuable because I was broken. 

I will never be the same. 

I am better. 

Becoming Patient

 Praying for patience

Praying for patience this week has brought reasons to be more patient. Monday, Noel went to in for a well check up at a new-to-her doctor's office. I switched her to my doctor's office because I did not feel we had been listened to at the office we had been going to. I asked them about some discoloration in her skin that we have been asking about for the past few years. They are concerned about them in combination with how often she has been sick over the past few years. They said she may have a rare neurological disorder that can cause problems with her brain and spine. They referred us to specialists at Children's hospital. We are now waiting for the genetics department to call back to find out when she will be able to have an appointment and what sub group she has to see. There will be a lot of waiting to find out if she has this and how it will affect the rest of her life. Tuesday, she stayed home sick because of the affects from the shots she received. Wednesday, she called me from school with the same symptoms to pick her up. Also, that day, Sean was home sick. I took off work early to take him into the walk-in clinic. We waited around for a while and decided to come home because I had to get to another appointment. Sean stayed home again Thursday. I was not able to have time to myself until last night. We will see how the rest of this experiment goes. So far, the worst part is the waiting to see if my sweet girl has a genetic disorder that can affect how much pain she experiences for the rest of her life. 

Sean and Noel Drive

My goal for this week was to have each of the kids with permits driver everyday of the week. This would help me with my patience because I get tense when they drive, and it would help them driver better because they would get more practice. I forgot to take them out twice, but I did have both of them drive Wednesday. Each time Sean gets better which makes it easier to be patient with him. Noel, on the other hand, is getting better slower and continues to tell me that she knows what she is doing. This is not helpful for her learning to drive, and it tries my patience. I will continue working with them. (I kind of have to anyway.) I have learned though that part of my issue is that I am so afraid of getting into an accident because of how my mom and brother died that I need to have someone else take Noel out to help her in a calmer manner. Me being scared when she drives is not helping her, and I do not think this is something I have as much control over because of the previous trauma. 

Listening with Patience

This week, I had the opportunity to take my daughter and two other young women to the temple for baptisms. Counting Noel, there were two 16 year-olds and one 12 year-old in the car. In the past, this could cause me issues, but it did not this time As I drove, I listened to them talk about driving experiences, their friends, school, other temple experiences, and much more. We laughed and joked and sang songs. At the time I did not think of my goal of being more patient. I just enjoyed the company of these wonderful young women. I am thankful for the opportunity I had take them and for the work I have done in being more patient so I can thoroughly enjoy their company.

I, also, had a good experience talking to my husband one night. He was feeling frustrated and depress but did not want to talk about it. I gave him another day before I went to him telling him I knew it wasn't necessarily me that was causing the issue. (I have a problem with thinking that people are always mad at me.) He told me about his problems with work. I feel like it was a good interaction where he could feel loved and listened to without me interrupting. 

He Will Answer

James 1:5 says, "If any of you lack wisdom, let him as of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him."

Most members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints recognize this verse as the verse that Joseph Smith read before going into the Sacred Grove (a grove a trees by his house) and being told by the Lord to not join any church because the gospel had not yet been fully restored to the earth. In the years to follow, he would be lead to the Gold Plates which would be translated to become The Book of Mormon. 

We can break this scripture down to more fully understand it to guide us in our lives as well. When looking at it, my first question has always been, "What does 'upbraideth' really mean?" We can guess based on the context and come up with a good idea. I looked at the footnotes which tells us that it means "reproaches or censures." Now, what does that mean? According to Merriam-Webster, censure means, "to find fault and criticize as blameworthy." Dictionary.com says that reproach means, "to find fault with..." Next, we will look at what wisdom is. Many people believe that book knowledge gives us wisdom. I disagree. It may help, but it could also hinder the acquisition of wisdom. We know that people who have wisdom are wise, so I looked up "wise" on dictionary.com which tells us that it means, "having the power of discerning and judging properly..." This does take knowledge, but it also takes experience. I see it this way. I can learn from a recipe how to bake something, but it takes experience to really make it well. This is the process of gaining wisdom in many things. The last word I wanted to look at is "liberally." There are no footnotes for this in this specific verse. My favorite definition was from Merriam-Webster.com. It says, "given or provided in a generous and openhanded way." 

The next step is to put this all together to better understand this verse that is quoted so often that many do not take the time to truly understand it. It is telling us that when we do not have the power to judge or properly discern something, we can ask God. he will generously provide answers without criticizing or finding fault in our request.  That is such a powerful message! 

There is no question too small or too big. Heavenly Father loves us so much that He wants to provide us a way back to him. When we struggle and don't understand, He will help us. In Doctrine and Covenants 88:63 we read, "...seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock and it shall be opened unto you."

I know that asking with faith is a great comfort, protection, and guidance. Even when I struggled with my testimony, I continued to pray knowing that I would be given answers. We were not put here on the earth with a "good luck." We have been given guidance through living prophets, scriptures, and personal revelation given us as we pray with faith.