This Side of Invisible

He heaved between sobs, opening the car door and vomiting right there in the car line. I prayed that no one had noticed. “Okay, okay,” I soothed him, patting his back. “It’s okay. Put your seat belt back on, we’ll go home.” He was so hysterical that my words didn’t, couldn’t penetrate. He cried into his hands, rocking back and forth. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” he cried. I pulled out of the car line and into the parking lot. “Mommy, I want breakfast,” a little voice peeped from backseat. “You said breakfast after Buddy go to school.” “I know,” I said, getting out of the car and walking around to Buddy’s side. I opened the door to buckle him in and he kicked at me. “NO!” he screamed. “No. No. No.” He thrashed in his seat trying to keep me from forcing him out of the car. His small fist makes contact with my cheek. “Buddy. Buddy. Buddy! Stop!” I yelled. Sniffles and sobs started in the back seat. “Buddy in trouble,” Thing 2 cried. “I hungry,” Thing 1 whined. And the ...

*I began writing this last month, but have been stalling finishing, because vulnerability is scary and it's sacred.  I don't write this lightly, but I write it in hopes that somewhere someone else needs to hear what I have to say. Three years ago, my father died.  It was January 4, 2011.  On January 6, 2011, I called my husband and said, "Congratulations, we have a 400 lb.. 12 year old.  He's a mess, but he's ours."  And I smiled. And I cried.  Because as those words came out of my mouth, the reality set in: our lives would never be the same.  I was scared to death.  I was having second thoughts.  I was anxious about how we would actually do this.  And then a peace settled back into me as God reminded me that no matter what happened next, this was the right thing to do and He was with us every step of the way. And He has been.  But that doesn't mean it's been pleasant... or pretty... or calm... or happy.  It's been a very...

By now, I'm sure, you've realized that what you stole from me has little to no worldly value.  Of course, you might get a few hundred dollars for the DVDs, iPod, jacket and bag you took, but my scriptures, my journal, my family history research that were in that bag can have little value to anyone but me and my posterity.  Well, maybe that's not exactly true. What if you opened my scriptures and saw the notes in the margins?  Could you feel how much I wanted to be a better mother by all the notes I made regarding parenting? For instance, near Alma 56:48 "And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saving: We do not doubt our mothers knew it."  I had written in the margins something like "There is no substitute for a righteous mother."  What if you read all the verses I had highlighted and underlined and cross-referenced?  Hopefully, you'd learn how much I valued things like prayer, fasting, family, covenants, and the Savior, Jesus Christ...

Every mother has an idea of what 'hard labor' is.  As does every father.  Each having their own ideas of what 'labor' is and at what level it become hard or difficult. I certainly have had my ideas about what hard labor is and my ideas have progressed over the years.  From having to vacuum with a machine much bigger than my seven-year-old self, to mowing the lawn, to running in the horrid, humid Indiana summer (for an entire mile!), to working in the Indiana corn fields in that awful humidity, to working the broiler at Burger King, to walking in uphill in a blizzard to get to my freshman psych class in Idaho, to working with emotionally disturbed children and mentally and physically disabled adults, to actual labor giving birth to my first son, to more actual labor raising him through those first years while carrying twins, to even more labor raising 3 boys under 3 and being pregnant yet again and then having four children under 4, to years down the road having my hus...

Been having the writing itch/ache for a fews days and actually had a day today when I could sit and write. My writing program scrivener (if I haven't mentioned it's amazing qualities yet, know it is amazing) would not open. Went to the website and re-downloaded, no problem. Went to get to work... MY FILES WERE GONE!!! THE files. Lainey and Varick and Dee and Lance and Dane. Gone. I tried to calm myself as I searched for them. I'm sure they're here somewhere, just got shuffled around when I downloaded the new version. Calm down, slow your breathing... DO NOT CRY. Nope, not in that file either. Let's try under Documents... things always get lost in the documents folder. Ok, not there either, but they have to be somewhere! Keep looking. I was hyperventilating by this point. My hands were shaking as I tried to maneuver the mouse. My chest started pounding. My panic-meter was rapidly rising. The kids were getting restless and starting to fight... yeah, I knew ...