Since 4.27.11

My mind has been running all over the place for the past few weeks.  You'd think the result would have been blog post after blog post after blog post.  Not so, obviously.  For fear my thoughts would expose my true self I avoided writing about them.  And then today I thought to myself, "self, chill out" (basically).  So I'm here now, with a small taste of some things I've spent considerable time thinking about. 

(Since most of my thought processes were spurred by some friends' blogs, I hope they don't mind my linking their posts =0)

Teryn can be a major handful at times.  Major.  No no, let me say it again.  M.A.J.O.R.  Holy moly, I really don't know what I'm in for.  I keep telling myself "someday soon he will understand discipline and I will be able to manage his defiance".  We'll see about that.  Until then, my days are filled with food throwing, mommy slapping, toilet splashing, road dashing, and all other testosterone-driven activities.  He is a very sweet, funny boy, but mostly he is stubborn and hard-headed (anyone who knew my brother Teryn is thinking "you knew what you were getting yourself into when you gave him his name!").  All things considered, I am grateful that I have an active son who desires to adventure and explore and tear things apart to see how they work.  I'd rather that than a dormant, socially awkward son.  I just pray that I can facilitate constructive defiance.  And that I can conserve my patience as the days go by.  All that said- -the other day I was frustrated and Tyson asked, "and you want four more?"  Yes, I want four more.  Yes, even if they are defiant, stubborn, ever-active, and fill my hands more than I can handle, I want five children.  Why?  That's where my first friend's post comes in.  As the 7th of seven children, I love(d) growing up with so many siblings (in my case, only brothers).  Each of them are so different and their interests are so diverse.  I would never be able to tell what I've learned from each of them nor could I share every experience we've shared.  I go to each of them for different reasons and I talk to each of them about different things.  I just feel greatly blessed to have such a number of incredible siblings and I want that for my own children.  Even if they try my patience and make me swear (inside my head, of course).  It will be worth it in the end.  Plus, I for one don't want to be an Empty Nester at age 45.  

Perhaps my thoughts were especially lingering on family since Sunday was Mother's Day.  My selfish side got the best of me and the day left me bitter and in tears.  For Tyson's sake I'll keep the details to myself- -I'm over it.  It just wasn't the perfect day and I really wasn't in the mood to hear about or see pictures of other mothers' wonderful days.  But alas, someone else whose day wasn't perfect!  Yay! (p.s. isn't her son the cutest!)  Her post reassured me that I wasn't the only one.

Sometimes it's hard for me not to compare.  Actually, most times.  It's an innate trait of mine- -darn the luck.  Sadly, Tyson usually gets the brunt of it.  He doesn't clean the kitchen like so and so's husband does, he doesn't surprise me with flowers or love notes, he doesn't clean up after himself, he doesn't make dinner, he doesn't get up with our child in the night, etc., etc., etc.  This friend's post  helped me put things into perspective.  Especially when she said, "...he has a lot to offer in his own special way. I had expectations that didn't need to be met. It would be like him expecting a clean house and dinner on the table with a glowing wife and happy kids every night when he walks through the door. Not going to happen."  My husband is truly incredible.  He is such a hard worker and dedicated provider.  He is the most well-rounded, friendly, funny, soft-hearted and kind man I've ever known.  Above all, I've never once doubted his love for me.  To him I am indispensable.  I need to focus on my own shortcomings rather than insatiably criticizing his.

And then there was this post on a whole different subject.  It got me thinking about some things someone would need to know before joining my family.  We love to get together, but we unconsciously segregate when we do so.  The children play, the women cook, clean, and chat, and the men golf.  We love milk and follow every meal with some sort of dessert (or two.  or three.).  We enjoy watching old family home videos.  We let our children eat food off the floor.  We learn how to swim in ditches.  We train our own dogs and build our own houses.  We don't like being told what to do, but we'll give the shirts off our backs if we know you need it.  My father will talk to you about the Gospel until your ears bleed (or you scream- -whichever comes first).  We are thrill seekers and will most likely worry you sick if you don't come to terms with it.  Just a few things that come to mind.  We are all married and I think every spouse has adapted quite well.

And lastly, there was this post.  Mostly her thoughts on frilly, cutesy blogs vs. sharp, uncluttered blogs.  In my blog browsing I've found the most enjoyable to read are usually simple and clean.  They don't hurt my eyes nor strain my brain.  In fact, if you've visited every post I've linked in this post you'll notice that all three have white backgrounds, standard font, and simple layouts.  Hmm.  Purely coincidence that I learned so much from them?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Everyone loves pictures and everyone loves decoration but there's a fine line between engaging and annoying.  As also mentioned in her post, much can be expressed with color and size and font and justification.  Writing can be so powerful when presented in the right way.  I'm no expert myself, but I enjoy learning.

So there you have it.  Just a few things that have been preoccupying my mind.  I'll be back soon with other updates and pictures of recent happenings.

p.s. I've never had more than 9 comments on any one blog post.  I see those of you with 20-30 comments and I silently covet.  It's OK, I know there are hundreds and hundreds of you out there reading.  You just have nothing to say.  That's alright.  Just another confession.