Can't You Just SMELL the Baby Smell?

I Love My New Tshirt!

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Friday Funny: Like Slapping Someone with Silence

youtube clip found here

Thoughts Late at Night

My heart and my head have been full today. Today at church we had a guest speaker; the daughter of our Laurel advisor taught our Young Women lesson today. What an amazing woman. She went to Africa as a volunteer for Mothers Without Borders and came to tell us of her experiences. Apparently, millions of children are orphaned in Africa due to disease and/or violence. As described on their website, this amazing, inspired organization's mission is to "address the needs of orphaned and abandoned children in a holistic manner. We support efforts to provide safe shelter, food and clean water, education and access to caring adults. We want to assure that each child has someone who cares about them to teach them of their value."

The photos I saw today were haunting.

As a mother, I tried to listen to the speaker and watch the slide show and hold it all together. I tried not to weep. In such a simple but eloquent manner, she told of her experiences in vignettes--little moments of getting to know children and trying to do what she could to ease their burdens. It broke my heart to hear her stories of children left alone in such a harsh environment, without the basic love and care of a mommy or daddy. Her photos made otherwise unimaginable conditions so real.

She told of a little girl with chronic eye infections who, when given one of the quilts brought from America, wrapped herself up in it and began to sing a song of thanks to God and did not stop for a half hour.

She told how this little girl had her first bath at age 11 and loved it so much she didn't get out for two hours.

She told of children heading households, caring for brothers and sisters alone. Households made of mud, basically.

She described going to villages with the objective to just play with the orphaned kids, because they have no time for games otherwise.

She talked of little kids who loved God, but who told her they didn't know if God loved them back because they felt forgotten.

She showed a photo of a little boy who confided hopelessly that he didn't know why God made him.

She told of meeting a boy named Kennedy, who is the boy in this painting.

"The Worth of a Soul," by Liz Lemon Swindle

(Go HERE to read the behind the scenes story of the making of "The Worth of a Soul.") Below are some photos, from the website, of the model portraying Christ with the children; aren't they amazing? In every photo our guest teacher showed today was a child left alone in the world, with no one to feed them a warm dinner or get them a drink of water. Literally...no clean water. I wanted to jump on a plane and bundle up each child up and bring them home with me.

She told of feeling overwhelmed at one point with the things she had seen--the poverty, the hunger, the burdens of these little ones--and prayed that night to the Lord to help her understand what she should do. She knew she couldn't change much in the lives of these children, but could only provide fleeting assistance with medical care and giving quilts she had brought. It could never be enough. She told of receiving an answer from Heavenly Father that all she could do was to love. To pour love onto these little children, as much as she could for as long as she was there. She told a story of one little girl who, as they said goodbye, kissed her hand and said, "Remember me."

Her purpose in speaking to us was to impress on our hearts the fundamental need for us to serve one another while here on earth. She explained to a room full of teenage girls that, while they are not able to hop on a plane and go feed hungry, motherless children in Africa, they can "remember" others by simply being a little less selfless, a little more kind, in their own corner of the world.

I've taken part now and then in Humanitarian projects: sewing quilts, painting wooden toys, assembling hygiene kits, gathering school supplies...but seeing these photos and hearing someone's firsthand stories of what happens on the other end gave me a whole new appreciation for these acts of service. What was previously a remote, emotionally removed act of going through the motions has taken on an entirely new meaning.

I came home thinking that where much is given, much is required...and wondering what in the world is required of me. I am not able to jump on a plane and help other children in Africa. I have deeply-rooted responsibilities here at home, with my children. But it is so easy to donate items and I will do so with love from now on, thinking of the grateful recipient on the other end who has so little. I can show my love for Heavenly Father's children on the other side of the world by giving simple necessities to ease their way and bring happiness. I cannot accomplish dramatic acts of service in another country, far from home. I think for now, my home is where "much is required" of me. Maybe what is required of me is to be mindful of and humbled by my great blessing of living in conditions of ease and plenty.

"Where much is given, much is required." What is required of me? I don't know. But tonight I feel more deeply the responsibility not to get sidetracked by the things of the world which do not ultimately matter at all. To stay the course, teaching my children of our purpose here on earth and our eternal journey, serving God's fellow children in our sphere along the way. I can't go help the children whose photos made my heart ache today, but I can be mindful of those in need in my own corner of the world. I can use my resources here.

As I watched photo after photo of primitive living conditions, my own struggles and heartaches were put immediately into perspective. I was reminded today of the insignificance of the things I think I need, when all my family needs is each other. I need to be more appreciative of my most fundamental blessings. When my day ended today I sat on my couch for my favorite late-night quiet baby snuggle time, held my sleeping baby boy, sniffing his feathers, and thanked my Father in Heaven for being able to provide safety and security. I wish I could give it to children everywhere.

Go visit the Mothers Without Borders website, here. It's inspiring.

* All photos copyrighted from the website "motherswithoutborders.com"

I am fairly sure I'm breaking some copyright law and will soon end up in the clinker.

Week In Review

Remember this post? That's right. Still waiting for my personality to return. But I figure even if I don't have any energy to have a personality, or clean my house or even put on makeup...I had better get blogging again so I can someday have proof I was alive.

Let's all raise our glasses of Diet Coke and toast: Here's to Crystal emerging from her fog of sleep deprivation and actually blogging again!

{Yes. This is my makeup-less face. Please be my friend anyway.}

I am awake, waiting for a chocolate cake to bake (at midnight), and decided THIS is the night to get back in the habit of documenting my life. I am missing recording the ebb & flow of my days and I definitely miss the connections that blogging brings. Coincidentally, Lelly's SPT challenges this month address this very issue; doing these each week this will spur me into action and get me back into the habit of putting my day into writing.

So. Here's what I've been up to this week.
Sunday was my first official day back at church since having the baby. Truthfully, I was a little shell shocked. I sat with the Young Women on the stand and sang as part of the Youth Sacrament Meeting, despite the fact that I sound like some sort of Muppet when I sing. (I really, really cannot sing. It's tragic.) I think the ladies who serve with me in Young Women were flabbergasted that I had actually showed up, considering that I haven't shown my face at church or at an activity for at least three months. (guilty smile)

After church, my little family went to Mike's parents' house. Liz snuggled little Jack and I watched the closing ceremony of the Olympics. I have felt a little bereft since the Olympics have ended. What do I watch during the endless hours of breastfeeding??? The baby is awake and alert in the evening hours and we would sit together in front of the tv all night and snuggle, watching hours and hours of Olympics. Track! Swimming! Rowing! Gymnastics! Especially while in Boise, during the last two weeks of summer, I watched the Olympics every night while helping the baby settle down. He seemed to have an upset tummy or something at night and just wanted to be held and comforted; I will always remember the luxury of sitting on my mom's couch, being able to do nothing else but hold the baby--and I will always associate the summer games with those first few weeks of Baby Joe's little life. Isn't that funny! But those were happy, calm evenings and nights. He'd finally settle down around 11pm or midnight and I would just hold him until 1am, when the games ended for the day.

Monday, like every day, is kind of a blur. I live to serve the whims of a newborn, which throws any sort of organization to the winds. I'm good with it. Some days I get frustrated and feel down on myself because nothing has actually gotten done, but really...I want to hold him and love him as much as I can because already, at two months old, he's much bigger and plumper. Why does this newborn stage pass so quickly? So I try to do a little school with Mimi each day, spend some playtime with her, and love up the baby as much as I can. If I do those things, the day has been a good one. (this is my mantra to repeat to myself)

We wrote letters to Grandma for Family Home Evening and went to ice cream, where I saw Ali, whom I was supposed to be meeting--at that exact time--at her house. That was a hilarious moment. We were both supposed to be at her house and we caught each other at the grocery store instead. We'd made plans to go to the late movie so I could get out of my house and thus save my sanity. (I think I have postpartum issues. I definitely have husband issues.) I'd had a breakdown moment during FHE, delaying our departure for ice cream. Ali had last-minute jr. high homework sprung on her, and wa-la! the two of us met in the grocery store...me, self-medicating with ice cream & she, racing around trying to find index cards. We did meet up for the movie, better late than never, after getting our families settled and dashed off to "House Bunny"--quite possibly the stupidest movie I've ever seen. But nonetheless hilarious, in a brainless, crass sort of way.

Tuesday was spent just coping. I have found I don't get overwhelmed if I simplify and just stay home. I'm still adjusting to having four kids (four!) and taking care of a newborn. Some days, it's all I can do to take a shower and eventually make dinner. (Please note that I did not include "makeup" or "styling hair." Yeah. I'm looking hot these days.)

Max had pack meeting Tuesday night, and I was feeling pretty proud of myself for having it all together. Dinner was made in an organized way (hard to do these days because it seems the baby needs to be fed RIGHT in the middle of dinner prep), the kids were all ready and we showed up 10 minutes early. That's right, folks! Early! Max rode his bike with a friend to pack meeting, but wasn't there. In fact, nobody was there. Two other people showed up and we waited and waited...until 7:30. Wrong place, obviously. How did I not know this? At some point, pack meeting was changed to a different location than usual and I had no idea. I went home feeling very down. I knew Max would be waiting for me to show up and feeling sad because he had a few awards coming to him that night. Some days I feel so incompetent!

Wednesday was Ann's birthday party, which meant a night out with my very best girls at Cheesecake factory. Delightful. We had a light bulb moment and decided to have a friend book club. What took us so long to think of this??? When we get together, the conversation invariably turns to books at some point. I think a book club will be so fun! We are completely at ease discussing anything and everything and I foresee many lively meetings to come.

Thursday was crazy. I left my house at 11am and didn't return until 8:30pm. I went visiting teaching, then out to lunch with my VT companion (thank you Emily, for a much-needed respite), then rushed to get Mimi ready & on time for her cheerleading clinic, then to the mother/daughter activity. I came home exhausted that night but proud that I am able to handle a hectic day, hauling a hungry newborn around, with aplomb.

Friday I just took care of business around the house (it seems to take all day to clean the kitchen, do laundry, help Mimi unravel her hair-twirlies & throw some kind of dinner together), then we all went to the high school football game where Mimi was cheering at halftime with the "junior cheerleaders." She trotted on the field waving like a pro. That girl is hilarious. I could tell that in her head, she was An Official Cheerleader. I admit it--I cringe at the thought of my girls wanting to actually BE a cheerleader. I have a stereotypical judgement that I just can't shake. But Mimi is such a little dance-crazed girlie-girl that I indulged her. I knew she'd love watching the big girls jump around and dance and kick. She did. She loved it. (photos coming soon)

Saturday was mellow. Max worked on scouts most of the day (he gets tunnel vision when the mood strikes him, and whatever he's interested in at the moment becomes almost an obsession). I just loafed around taking care of the baby, Isabelle and Mimi played together most of the day (yay!), and Mike worked on his broken truck. I finally got myself to the grocery store around 2pm.

I am usually such a high-energy, bustling type of person, and it plays with my mind (and emotions!) to be so slow-going. The baby needs quite a bit of attention, so I find myself taking until 11am or so just to get on my feet for the day. On a typical school day my morning goes like this: Jack wakes up & needs to be fed, I juggle that while directing the other kids through their morning and doing Isabelle's hair, get her & Max off to school, by this time the baby needs to be fed again so I do that while Mimi snuggles by me and watches tv. Usually I fall asleep at this time with baby in my arms and Mimi snuggled up to me watching Little Bear or Little Einsteins or Little Bill (what's with all the "Littles?"). I finally peel myself off the couch, feeling a little guilty for being so sluggish, and try to get Mimi dressed and her hair done, help her make her bed and then we go downstairs to do some school. These are simple tasks, but can take a long time for some reason. I'm not quite sure why. The baby just needs me at all times, but I'm not sure what I do when I look back on my day. This plays with my mind. I'm going to have to take note of my daily patterns next week so that I can understand my day. All I know is I have made a conscious effort to take things slowly and try to be okay with that. I am an infamous overplanner and I've tried lately to underplan. (Are you reading this, Mom? Can you believe it?) I've been trying to just take care of the necessities and enjoy this little babe as much as I can.

Moments.

Goodnight.

Storytime

Brothers