2 girls + 2 boys = Busy Mom

**This isn't pretty, and it will offend, anger, and upset some people. But it needs to be told, because it is my truth. And because of the things I am now facing, I am reliving it daily. And I hate it.**

The Dr. said to me, "This is the result of a severe trauma. Do you know that? Do you know the amount of force and twisting required to pull bone from bone?" and then a very quiet, "I'm so sorry this happened to you." These words were my undoing. This is the result of a 16 year old injury inflicted upon me by someone elses hands. I thought I had forgotten, put it away. I thought I was over it. Because I have chosen to forgive, I thought the hurt was gone. I was so very, very wrong.

Recently I've been having more and more problems in my ankle. Ten years ago I was told that my ligaments were calcifying on the ends because they had been damaged by what looked like an old injury. I told him I had an old injury and never had it looked at. And left it at that. No need to bring up old issues right? So, now that I am damn near crippled every time I have to walk for any length of time on any type of surface I am having to face old issues. I've seen two surgeons, and both agree that this old injury is the cause. So let me explain. I have an avulsion fracture of my fibula. It never healed correctly because I never went to the doctor. I was scared to go. I was scared of the questions. I was scared what would happen to my kids. So I sucked it up and dealt with it. An avulsion fracture happens when the ligaments are stretched and twisted with such force, that they pull the bone they are attached to apart. I have a piece of bone that ended up floating in the joint space and tried to heal which has created a problem. In addition, over time the ligaments didn't heal because they were stretched and torn beyond what they could do, and they rub around in the ankle and get torn up. Also, something happened to my calf muscle which caused it to tighten up, probably to compensate for the damaged ligaments. And to top it off, the tendon that attaches my ankle to the back of my leg/knee area is also damaged. Both Dr.'s agree, based on examination and imaging, this injury occurred when I think it did. I'm now facing a fairly extensive surgery and a long recovery.

So, why am I so upset? It's been long enough right? I was not prepared for the onslaught of emotions this would bring. I was not prepared for the nightmares, the anxiety, the fear, and the random crying. I was not prepared for the hatred harbored by those who love me. I never thought I would have to defend and pacify people on my attackers behalf. But what I really did not expect, was the feeling of mourning, of loss, and of profound hurt I still feel. I don't understand it. I was terrified to see these doctors. I was going to have to explain this shameful thing. I was going to have to explain why I didn't seek help. It was easier than I imagined, but very uncomfortable at the same time. It was easy to slip back into the victim. To make excuses, say it's okay, blow it off like it isn't a big deal because these things happen. But those words, "I'm sorry this happened TO YOU" are shockingly what I have needed to hear for 16 years.

Sixteen years ago, my marriage was slowly spiraling towards an end. It was not a healthy relationship by any means. We had 2 kids together and at the time, they were 1 and 2 years old. I knew it was coming to an end, after the drugs and drinking, when I walked in on him with his hand up my friend's skirt. We ended up at a Halloween party that my co-worker was hosting, and yes much alcohol was flowing. (alcohol is never a good idea and thankfully that lifestyle is over with!) We ended up screaming at each other on the front lawn, we drove home still fighting, and when we arrived home, he drug me out of the car, up our porch steps, threw me into the house, drug me into the living room, and threw me on the floor again. He hit me. Thankfully, the kids were at a sitters for the night. Eventually he cooled off, because I quit talking and fighting back. I knew something was wrong with my ankle because of the pop and the fact that I couldn't put any amount of weight on it without wanting to pass out. The next day, he left to pick up the kids, and I went to work. I could not wear a shoe. My outer 3 toes, up the outside of my foot and around the bottom, to just above my ankle, was black. Like, licorice black with deep purple outlines. I sat at my desk and cried. My co-workers who were there were livid. I went home that night, calmly asked for a divorce and asked him to leave. He knew as well as I did that it was such an unforgivable thing and that our marriage was over. It was hard to see at the time, but I think he was just as hurt as I was that our marriage had failed. A few more things happened after that, leading to restraining orders and such, ending with Rob adopting the kids and us raising our family. The last 13 years have been quietly uneventful.

Family members don't understand why I don't hate him. And it's because I spent almost 2 years on my knees every day praying. I quickly discovered that praying to forgive him was not nearly as effective as praying FOR him to have a good life. And he has, I hope, a good life. I do not harbor ill will against him. What makes this injury difficult and the emotions with it is even though I feel that forgiveness and hope for him, I never truly faced and dealt with what was done to me. And that is the shame of victims of domestic violence. It is why we pick guys who do this, over and over again. We don't face it. We don't stand up to those feelings of inadequacy, that we somehow deserved it, that God was punishing us for something, that if we were only better, that we didn't try hard enough, that "I'm crazy so I'm lucky to have him" mentality, (which, no, we are not crazy.) the shame that we even allowed it to happen in the first place, the thought that he didn't mean to, or he won't do it again, or he's not the type so maybe it's me. It is so SICK how we convince ourselves we deserve to be treated like this! Like somehow his anger control is my problem. The other issue comes with victims trying to get help. I knew what would happen if I had gone to the hospital. I'd have been asked what happened. I'd have been honest because I was pissed. He would have been arrested, and CPS would have gotten involved to "protect the children." That usually means supervision, and sometimes kids going to a family member for a time until things get worked out. That is terrifying for any mother. Why do they do that? There has to be a better way, so women aren't scared to get help for their families. I feel extremely blessed and watched over because of the way things unfolded for me. But other women aren't so lucky.

I have heard that injuries can hold memories, and I now believe it. I am having to face this yet again. I am reliving it, yet again. Every time my ankle hurts, I think about that night. Every. Stinking. Time. It is depressing, it is exhausting, and it is annoying. And maybe I just needed to hear someone say,"I'm so sorry this happened to you" so that I could learn to say it to myself. To embrace that girl who hid the shame of being a victim. Who was too afraid to tell, but who drew great strength from it in order to fight for her children. I'm learning to be kind to myself, and maybe this is why. So I can love and embrace who I was that made me who I am. The next few months will suck. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. But, I have had 16 years to prepare. And I can do hard things.

**As a side note, my sweet Jordan made me promise that if she was ever in an abusive situation and refused medical care, that I would drag her kicking and screaming to the doctor. I love that girl, and I love that she understands her worth as a young woman. That no one, for whatever reason, has the right to abuse her. And my sweet boys are defenders of women. I have seen Sky defend his sisters, defend girls at school and protect them. Though he was tiny, he remembers too much. And that breaks my heart.**

As of February 2nd, Sky had chosen Utah State University as his college of choice. But.....he changed his mind. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, he decided to apply to Dixie State University. He was accepted! He toured! He loves St. George, UT! And so NOW he is going to Dixie State! His housing deposits are in and it's official! I know where I'm spending winter break....

We always think our parents invincible. They are steady, and no matter how old you are you are always their child. They know the answer to everything, they know how to fix and do everything, and they know who you are no matter what stage of life you are in. They are the ROCK that connects us to our family. So what happens when they can no longer be the rock? What happens when they don't know you, they don't know everything, and they are no longer invincible? It is so difficult to see our parents age. It is hard to become the adult, the rock, the voice of reason amidst a sea of confusion.

I had the privilege to work in assisted living as a CNA, being the rock and caretaker to those who could no longer take care of themselves. It is easy when it is a stranger you are comforting, dressing, feeding, caring for. I heard the most amazing life stories, the saddest tales, and heroic acts. I watched as families gathered to lift and encourage loved ones, and I mourned for those whose families never came at all. I cried for every one who left this Earth, and even celebrated a few whose suffering ended. But those feelings are easy with strangers. What happens when it's your family?

We currently have a family member entering this stage of life. One where the child becomes the adult. And it's hard. It's hard to watch them fall, figuratively and literally. It's hard to keep a smile while dispelling the confusion and lost memories. But there is a peaceful compassion that fills us. They are no longer in those early stages, where you don't know if they are just outspoken, rude, or cranky. There is now an understanding that our loved one will not be with us much longer. And we cherish those moments left to us. We have hard conversations, make difficult decisions, and pray for things to change. But we know what is coming, how it will end. And in the end, we love them. We care for them. We knit together our family ties, we laugh and talk about good memories, and cherish the time we have. Sometimes we let the sadness creep in. Thinking of a future that will never be, everything they will miss of our lives and our posterity. And we go on.

With the passing of those loved ones, our rocks, we then become the rocks for our families. The invincible ones, the know it alls, the wise elders who care for the generations to come. Until it is our day to be cared for and pass the rock to the next generation in line. Aging sucks, for we all age a little more each day until we finally see our rest.

Being a stay at home mom has huge advantages, one of those being the ability to be involved with my child's education. We go to a charter school. We LOVE our charter school! We have been at the school since it's inception and I am grateful every day for the ambitious individuals who wanted more for the kids in our community. I have been a room mom, a reading group mom, a music helper mom, a member of the Parent Faculty Association, Secretary of said association, and President of said association! I've been on field trips, fundraisers, work crews, and spent waaaay too much time in the principals office and in front of the school board. I've watched as the high school took shape, and then sent my oldest through it. I have sent my kids, all 4, through ALL of the teachers at this school. And loved the majority of them. I have loved being involved, knowing what my kids are doing, and being able to be frank and up front with those in charge of my kids education. I like to think I've been able to work hand in hand with those teachers by instilling a love of learning, respect, and work ethic into my kids. I have lived and breathed my kids' education, and probably stepped on more toes than I can count.

And, I have not been fair the last few years. Being so close to a situation can cause tunnel vision, and in turn I lost sight of the big picture. You see, I became disillusioned when a favorite teacher I worked with was not renewed. I was so upset, I unfairly treated the new teacher coldly. She is now one of my daughters favorite people, and frankly, I like her too. I was present when small changes were made that didn't fit with what many believed were essential guidelines for the school. But we are not the same as others who follow our education model. Our community and students are different. And I have been horribly unfair, in saying I love the k-8 program and encourage ALL to apply, but the high school is lacking. I was quick to notice the faults, and not the small changes. I was quick to make complaint, and somewhat tarnish the reputation the school was trying to build. I was unfair, because I lost sight of the big picture. Hearing complaints and grievances in too many meetings justified my own doubt and dissatisfaction.

So, here is the TRUTH: beyond my tunnel vision, our charter school is the best choice for children k-12. Yes, the high school is great. I forgot how wonderful and hardworking some of the teachers are. I forgot how safe and cared for my teenagers have been. I failed to see the changes that were being made as the administration, school board, and staff, strive to bring the vision for 9-12 in-line. I often mourn that one of my teens chose to leave our charter for the big, bad, world of public education. And it has changed her.

As I step back, out of the trenches of service and into the role of onlooker, I ask forgiveness for my tunnel vision. I always thought a brutally honest opinion was more constructive than one given softly and without substance. Unfortunately a brutally honest opinion can undermine the efforts of the small but crucial changes others try to bring about. So, I'm sorry. I was too negative, too close, and too willing to opine without thought of how those words affected a large number of people. I am ever grateful for the kind rebuke that at first angered me, then led to contemplation, and then humility and recognition.

It is true, familiarity breeds contempt. I can only hope that those in the trenches, who work tirelessly day in and day out, too close to the failings and successes, remember to see just the successes. Remember there are more students than just yours. Remember to thank those who work to correct mistakes. Remember to be fair, and remember they are all people first, with weaknesses, feelings, and the best interests of the students in mind.

Our charter school is great. And I encourage ANYONE to apply there.

The decision is IN! Skylar has made his choice of University and the winner is.....

Well first, let me tell you his options.
Montana State University: Great school, close to home (3 hours), beautiful campus, opportunity for enjoying the outdoors, etc etc. Expensive out of state.
Northern Arizona University: Pamphlets are nice (we didn't get to tour this one.), relative who went there enjoyed it. Good town, far from home, (8 hours), still expensive out of state
Utah State University: Great school, beautiful campus, HUGE campus, good dorms, diverse campus and town, opportunity for work, outdoors for those who want it, city for those who don's. close to home, (2.5 hrs). Out of State
Boise State University: Good school, a bit party, huge about football, good academics, diverse campus, large metropolitan area, about 5 hrs to home. In state tuition!!! Cheap!

Ok, so the winner is..............................
UTAH STATE UNIVERSITY!!!!!
We will figure out the tuition, but hopefully with grants, work, savings, and small loans, we can get him there! We are excited and proud of him for his hard work and accomplishments that got him here!
Go AGGIES!

Graduation from High School is June 4th. I won't start counting days until after spring break. I swear!

There are stages of life. There is birth, and ages 6mos to 3 years. Then preschool years, 3-5. Then gradeschool years, 5-12. Then middle school and high school years, 12-18. Adulthood, ages 18 to death. And even then there are stages of adulthood. Right now I have 1 gradeschool years, 1 middle school years, 2 high school years. And soon, Skylar will leave behind those years of childhood and enter adulthood. He gets to enter young adulthood, where most mistakes are made. He gets to govern himself, without mom and dad harping on him for his actions. He gets to choose college or mission or something else for himself. And we get to hope he survives it. He's going to be entering college, making financial, social, career decisions that will affect him the REST of his life! The next 5 years will determine the course of his future. College, career, marriage, kids, etc. It terrifies me for him. I have no doubt that he will handle it beautifully, that he will make decisions that he feels are best for him. But it is hard. Letting go, pushing him out of the nest so he can fly and soar and become what he was always meant to be.

When he leaves, I have 6 months before Jordan graduates. Yes, she is graduating early, so he goes off in August and she graduates in January. Her plan is online classes at home while working full-time until she can go to school in the fall. This leaves me with a few questions. She will be done with school, but living at home. What is my role? She has a plan for her life. Do I step back and let her work her plan? I don't have those extra 6 months to worry about prom and spring break and finals and grad night and the hype of it all. She doesn't want it, so what do I do? Do we travel? Go see things? Develop a friendship rather and let the parent/child relationship fade? She won't be an adult, but she will be living as one. I know what to do with Skylar. He's following the rules and path and what people are supposed to do. But then, Jordan always did do what she wanted on her time schedule. And she will be a fabulous doctor. :)

So, that is one year from now, that I will have 2 graduated from high school, one out of the house, and one mostly out of the house. I will be back to having 2 kids at home. And in several more years, I will be in this boat again where they graduate one right after the other. It is the end of an era. The end of an adult stage of life called child-rearing. When I'm done child-rearing what do I do? Maybe classes at the technical college. Belly-dancing, guitar, yoga, photography, small business management. I don't know. Or maybe I just make the rounds, visiting all my grown children and traveling. (I'm secretly looking forward to being grandma. Not for a lot more years yet, but 5-7 years is good.) There will be a lot of things Rob and I can do together since I won't have to worry about taking care of kids while we are gone. It should be an exciting new transition, the next 6 years. Wish me luck!

Holden, my dear sweet baby boy, is 12! This feels, surreal. Wrong. Strange. He's not ready to be 12. He's not ready to begin growing up into a young man, maturity, girls, and thinking he's smarter than me. I am not ready!

He had a party at a trampoline park, iJump. It was the greatest party that was ever partied. One price, 10 jumpers, cupcakes, pizza, drinks, set-up, take down, and a gift. I didn't have to do anything but show up! It was fabulous! The kids loved it, they wore themselves out. Later that evening we had the grandparents over for cake and birthday stuff. Holden chose cheesecake, and we had blueberry topping. He loved it. We had let him pick his present at the LEGO store when we went to Salt Lake City a few weeks earlier. It is the biggest set he has ever gotten. It's buildings, and cars and people and all sorts of stuff. And it is taking him longer than 20 minutes to get it together. We are on day 2 and he has completed half of it. YAY!!!!

Turning 12 means going into young men. It means ordained to the priesthood as a deacon. It means passing the sacrament and collecting fast offerings. It means that 3 of the 4 kids are now gone every Tuesday night. He isn't ordained yet. But soon. I'm not sure he knows what it means. But soon. He missed church today, because I have a migraine so bad it might be a stroke, but soon. He's a great kid and will grow into an amazing young man, too soon!

Also this week, his class visited the Capitol. I was able to go with him and it was fun! He mostly ran with his friends and left me behind. But two moments were very sweet. He wanted a picture of he and I at the bell in front of the capitol. Later on the bus, as we were watching Madagascar 2, he came back to sit with me, cuddle under his blanket and rest his head on my shoulder. Ah, my big boy still needed his mamma. I hope he knows how much I love him and adore his amazing personality. It was a great week. :)