ParaNorman. . . .

I'm going to break away from tradition a bit on this blog and use a movie as my blog title instead of a song because there wasn't a song out there that would translate what I wanted to say better than this movie.

But before I get into why, I'd like to tell you a story.

My brother married a woman with three boys, and each one of those boys has a different form of autism. For the most part, they are all non-speaking kids and have stemming quirks that either calm them or cause a problem for them. It has become very common in my family to hear one boy flush the toilet constantly, the other sing a tune in his own language, have constant clapping, touching, interruptions and best of all, kids covered in either dirt or water.

It is sometimes difficult to explain to small children, and even adults, what's happening when others encounter our family. But I was not really prepared for what was said by a young boy describing my nephews. He told me that "There's something wrong in their heads that makes them not act normal. Something's all screwed up." I was completely taken back by his description of them and immediately tried to explain it in a way that was feasible to a six year old and also wasn't rooted in ignorance. I tried to tell him that there's nothing wrong with their brains, but it's more like they're wearing a mask and this mask makes it difficult for them to talk, listen, see, etc. That there is nothing wrong with them but that they just have a hard time taking what's going on on the inside and sending it outside to all of us.

The attention span of this group is of course limited and so the subject changed very quickly. However my mind, and my husband's, dwelled on it for some time. We felt that what he had said was beyond wrong. And we were upset, in the most Aunt-&-Uncle-Bear way, that this boy spoke about our family this way. But we couldn't get mad at the boy, he is only six. Who we can direct our writhing emotions to are his parents. How ignorant are they to explain such a thing as autism to a kid as "just something screwy in their heads". It was obvious to me that his parents have not taken the time to educate themselves enough on autism to explain it, and therefore tried to explain it away by placing it in the general category of "not normal".

This brings me to the movie ParaNorman. In this movie this young, unsuspecting boy has no friends and is constantly teased. In the movie, there's a scene between Norman and his Dad that is completely heartbreaking.

Norman: This is so unfair! I wish everyone could see what I see. I didn't ask to be born this way. . .
Dad: Neither did we.

Even his Dad, someone who's supposed to love him unconditionally, wishes he was different, more "normal". Poor Norman goes around in his day, fighting off bullies, cruel words, teasing and loneliness all because he has something about him that others do not understand. Norman can see ghosts, and to Norman, this IS his normal.

Through Norman's adventure he comes to a conclusion about people, and he said something that will stick with me forever.

Norman: Sometimes when people get scared, they say and do terrible things.

I will be the first to admit, that when I see someone with a disability, I'm not sure how to approach them. I have a moment where I'm scared. I believe we all have these moments. However, it's what we do after that moment of fear, that will shape who we are.

Norman's Grandma: There's nothing wrong with being scared, Norman, as long as it doesn't change who you are.

Putting ones with autism, or anyone who is different from your version of normal, in a group that labels them as not normal is just you being scared. Saying things that are not in love towards anyone different from you, is just you being scared. Being ignorant of other's because of their disability (or anything you dislike or are uneducated about) is just you being scared. It is so difficult sometimes to fight that feeling of fear and break out of your box to understand someone else's life. The easy road is to just make fun of them and forget that they are human, just like you. But this is the worst way of thinking/behaving imaginable!

The theme to my blog is basically that perception is the key to all understanding. If you are going to sit back and keep yourself ignorant by un-educating yourself and closing your mind to what is the truth about other people, and then teach that ignorance to your children, you will only be breeding bullies. And that is just what you are when you treat others in any negative fashion, disability or not. In the movie, Norman befriends a young boy named Neil who is also teased relentlessly for being fat. However, even though Neil completely understands what's happening to him, he does not let it get him down. He is simply a happy person. Neil has a line that I feel is true to anyone who chooses to take that fear and breed ignorance.

Neil: You could be a bully too, if you were bigger and dumber.

I loved this movie. I loved it more than just about any movie I have seen and will be up there with some of my more intellectual favorites, ie. Lars and the Real Girl I know it's just a kid's movie, but I feel it really makes you think. I hope you all get the chance to see it and possibly think about the way you treat someone "different" from yourself. I don't think we will ever completely be rid of this natural fear that comes with the unknown, but don't let that stop you from becoming someone amazing. Don't let that keep you from being that amazing person to someone else.

So I ask you this, Have you let fear change who you are today?

Family Tree. . . .

My husband comes from a blended family. Much like the Brady Bunch, my husband's family was split down the middle consisting of four step children on either side, equaling eight children total. (My husband is also a twin.) Yesterday he told me how his biological dad wants to be friends with him on Facebook. Now, my husband hasn't seen or spoken to his bio-dad in many, many years and only had those encounters a total of four times since his dad left them when he was four. That comes out to about one visit every eleven years. It's no wonder the dad I know, is his step dad, though he is never referred to with that title and sometimes I swear they look alike.

My family on the other hand is a very tightly woven family. And with the exception of my grandfather not ever knowing his father, my family ties have always been close and "original" so to speak. Until my divorce, my family never really experienced such a divide in family circles. Needless to say, it was and still is something foreign to me, and many of my family members.

So when my husband chuckled as he told me his bio-dad wanted his "friendship"on Facebook, I asked him, "Does it feel weird not knowing your dad? Or any of your half siblings?"

His answers were private and I choose not to share them but I will share the mentality of his family that I know brings peace to him and a testimony to me.

When I first met my husband's family, I was not prepared for the full embrace and unconditional loving arms that so quickly wrapped around me. Coming from an all Mormon, white family, I was taken back by the mass diversity his family has. From divorce, drug use, homosexuality, race, nationality, who was related to who, smoking, language, and down to the glass of red wine sitting on the counter, I had never seen so much difference in one room. As someone who loves theatre, and has the need to understand the reasons why peopled do things the way they do so I can create that on stage, my naive mind started spinning.

Soon after that, I married my husband and became part of that diverse family. And not only me, but my children too. My in-laws made it so easy to love them, and care for them, and call them Mom and Dad. They also immediately insisted on having my kids know them as Grandma and Grandpa, which was very comforting rather than try and explain to my five year old who they are and what to call them. They loved us without question and simply opened the family circle to add us in. (Now this is not me saying my family does not do the same thing, I'm only focusing on the dynamics of my husband's family.)

So them calling me their daughter, my kids their grandkids, and even cousins didn't hit so deeply as when my husband's sister in-law called my daughter her niece. Her niece! She didn't have to call her that. But her calling her, her niece instead of something along the lines of, "my husband's, brother's, wife's kid" touched my heart beyond anything I can ever explain. It was the straw that opened my eyes to what a family really was.

Many things in life will break a family circle. I have encountered them first hand. On this earth, there is nothing that can not be broken. But just as my husband's family looks past everyone's differences to make a complete family, tying everyone together, so does our Lord.

I have a testimony that the Lord will heal all. That the Lord will always connect families together regardless of what is missing. The Lord will take the broken, frayed, loose ends of a family and connect them together with new strings and make them whole as if they never were broken in the first place.

I know that no one will be forgotten, that no one will have missing pieces, broken ties or incomplete circles, because the Lord's plan is made so that one day we will be complete, we will be and have all that is needed to make us whole, and our families will be connected in such a way that they will stretch from one end of eternity to the other with each person woven into the perfect place for them in our eternal family.

I pray that if any one is feeling like a piece of their life is missing, or that they are broken in some way, to look towards the Lord for peace. Through him, we will all become whole. And because of his example, we can live on this earth in a way that will give everyone a home and a family who loves them.

Our Savior's Love. . . .

I have felt like an outsider in my ward ever since our stake realigned the boundaries 9 months ago. Also with my job, I have had to deliver a firm hand to many ward members creating a not so welcoming relationship connecting me to the ward. Needless to say, I am invisible to the ones I seek to connect with and make myself invisible to those who I try and avoid. Not the best situation I've created for myself and if you happened to read my last blog about my ward, my feelings toward the whole thing are rough.

So, why do I bring this up? Well only for me to write down one revelation for myself. My cousin commented something on my last aforementioned blog that has sat inside me and grown into a bit of light.

"Church is just chaos and imperfection coming together for one purpose."

I feel like defending myself with that thought because some people in my ward think I'm losing my faith and I so very much want to tell them my faith in God has not wavered. In fact I've grown closer to him now than any other time in my life. But it's my tolerance for the ward that has weakened and this bug of a thought my cousin planted in me is what's keeping me in attendance.

I know for whatever reason, I'm suppose to be here and I'm suppose to learn something important to my character. So this is why I still attend church. And yes I am writing this during church, sitting here listening to the missionaries speak. And no my faith has not left me. I just don't like being here.

The Stranger. . . .

Do you remember when you were little and you would get teased at school? You'd run home crying and hurt from dagger-like words spewed at you from someone else in anger and your Mother would always say, "They are just jealous of you!" I've notice through facebook and Pinterest posts that even as adults we are teased and hurt by others, and our natural response is still the same. "They are just jealous of me." Except as adults we are more poetic in our response and say something more to the affect of, "Whatever they don't like in you, is just a reflection of what they don't like in themselves." I love this thought anytime I am feeling attacked by others. It makes me feel like the bigger person. The "winner" in an argument. But what if you were not the victim, but the one throwing the daggers?

I have been battling with some anger issues towards others who have hurt me in the past. I know I should just turn the other cheek, but I really don't want to. This group of random people have collectively, in one way or another, either threatened my livelihood, told direct lies about me, or have gone out of their way to make my life miserable. Now, this group of people are ones I see at least once a week and they on the rare occasion speak to me as if none of the aforementioned daggers were thrown into my back. (A bit dramatic I know, but I'm upset, so I'm allowed.) This is where the other cheek comes in. I know, deep down in my Christian heart, I should be the bigger girl, turn the other cheek and forgive, but I just can't. And since I can't, my bitterness towards them has festered into something that I don't find fitting to my character. I hate them.

Every time I see them or talk to them or even notice their existence, I give off the energy that they are not welcome near me. I don't say anything rude, or even out loud, but I most definitely dislike their proximity to me and do everything I can to translate it to them by short answers to their questions, lack of eye contact and obvious changes of direction. The discomfort that I feel has even prompted thoughts of moving and/or changing where I attend church.

So today when I read someone's repeated post about one person's attitude being a reflection of what they dislike in themselves prompted me to think, wow, what does all my anger towards these people say about me?

I had posted something on facebook where I shared a belief I had about how it is best if we not compare ourselves to anyone else because then we don't have the expectations that create fictitious ideas of what "good" and "bad" are. One dear friend of mine posted her opinion on it and I'd like to take the liberty to share what she had to say.

 "First we need to love ourselves, in order to love others. I personally feel that people who have love and respect for themselves, have a much easier time than people who dislike or don't respect themselves. Make sense? Love begets love....judgement begets judgement. Once we stop judging ourselves, we can stop judging others. Just my humble opinion ♥"

*sigh* Okay, so obviously I agree with her. And as much as I dislike the idea that I could be in the wrong, I must admit that I am. *grrrr* Not that it excuses at all what they did to me, I must stop treating them the way I have been.

This is not going to be easy, and because I am stubborn, I know it will take some time to completely overcome the urges I have to punch them in the face when they walk by. However, I know my Lord would have me do so. Besides, I don't want to have to ask for their forgiveness at judgement, so I might as well grant them the forgiveness my Savior has asked me to give them.

This whole blog has really brought me inner reflection. I hope it will for you too. I know the next time I reach into my figurative bag to pull out my imaginary poison tipped dagger, ready to throw at annoying people, I will take that second to look at myself in the mirror and find out what is going wrong with me. I am the only thing I have control over in my life. If I'm angry, then I have control over it. If I want forgiveness, I have control over it. If I want to truly be a happy person regardless of whom I encounter, I have control over that. And whatever I send out into the universe, is what will come back to me. So I better be sending out good energy.

So the next time we have anything bad, or ill spirited to say or do towards anyone for whatever reason, maybe we could take a moment to reverse our wise Mother's words and ask ourselves, "What am I jealous of in them?"

She Doesn't Know. . . .

I have been battling with self esteem issues for my whole life. And even at my age, I still have demons that stop me from being positive with myself. For the most part, I simply feel like I don't ever measure up, whether it's in inches or miles, I see myself falling short every day. Most days I can handle it, and try to give myself some slack, but other days are too overwhelming and I cannot stand tall. I'm either not thin enough, not strong enough, not talented enough, house isn't clean enough, dinner isn't good enough, I forgot this, I forgot that, I didn't notice enough, budget's not covering enough, I missed this, didn't go to that, didn't spend enough time here, should be better at this there, should serve more here, don't waist time here, I shouldn't be so tired, etc. Etc. ETC. . . . I'm not good enough! This is what plays in my head each day.

Now I know I can't say "I'm the only one" because I'm not. Pinterest is filled with little funny saying that translate to a cry for help being re-pinned all the time. My most recent one is, "I smile to hide how completely overwhelmed I am." A theme to my blog is, "I'm not that good, I just smile that well" because I have adorned a fictitious smile many, many days of my life just so it will make others feel comfortable. If my face actually showed what I was feeling, no one would sit by me. (Not that they do anyways.) But it's easier for me to fake it, than burden others with what's really going on.

So why is this going on anyway? Why do we, in general, put ourselves down? No one's going to drag you through the mud better than yourself, so why do we do it? My husband compliments me daily and I find it so hard to believe him because what's playing in my head drowns out his words. Is it easier to be on the bottom? Is there less to live up to if we always say we're less than a certain level? What is stopping us from being positive? What is stopping us from being happy with what we can do and who we are?

I love female comedians, and one of my favorites posted something online a bit ago that made me realize the tape that played in my head needed to be erased and replaced with something I do every day anyways. Please take a moment to watch and listen to her advice.

I would never tell any one of my daughters that they are not good enough. Or that who they are is not who they should be. I fill my day for them with compliments and "good job"s, "I'm so proud of you"s, and anything else I can do to get them to feel happy about themselves and what they've done. When did that way of talking stop for myself?

I do believe that regardless of the choices we have made, the way we look, the cleanliness of our homes, the amount of nutrition in our dinners, the intentions that we have and the efforts that we make, our Heavenly Father loves us. And just like the way we speak to our children, He wants us to feel happy about ourselves. I know God is an advocate of happiness. I know that he wants so much for us to find the happiness that is within us. God does not make crap! God does not make someone who is not good enough. It is what we compare ourselves to that changes how we view ourselves. This video was a swift kick in the butt for me. I want so much for my daughters to love themselves, I cannot forget that I am their greatest exemplar.

I hope that each one of you reading this realize how wonderful you are and start saying that to yourselves each day and be happy!

So I ask you this, Are you happy today?

The Nurse Who Loved Me. . . .

Today I feel the need to write. But I'm also afraid of writing what I'm feeling. I'm sorry, but I must be cryptic because this is not exactly my story.

It's been a rough day for me. I received some news that stings an all to familiar sting, and yet I'm calm. When news like this came around the first time, I panicked and immediately went into denial. Now that the similar news is here again, I'm not so naive. So as I'm trying to figure out how to navigate the next two weeks the title of this blog's song pops into my head, and I think for just a moment what it would be like to slip into another world and not experience what is happening right now. I can imagine myself lying on the floor, experiencing life in a deliriously happy slow motion while everyone else runs around in chaos behind me. Myself being completely oblivious to the truth and pleasantly distracted by the simple topography of my living room rug. Alas, I cannot.

Even though I feel completely drained from the day's news, I find myself at peace. Not a happy peace, but more a "God knows what he's doing so relax" peace. I can't even get mad yet.

I don't have an ending to this blog. Like I said I just needed to write. . . .

I guess I ask you this question, How do you cope with something you don't want to face but know deep down you can't avoid?

Settle Down. . . .

I have had a thought plaguing me for over seven months. It's a thought that makes me cry and go into an almost depression like state. If I were a doctor, I'd diagnose myself with a pre-midlife crisis syndrome. But since my doctorate is only from WebMD, I'll explain.

I have three beautiful daughters and for the past three years I have been counting down the days until my youngest was in school full time. Well, those days now equal less than three months and the knowledge that I won't have to worry about a sitter during the day any more is liberating and brings the sensation I'm sure Kate Winslet felt as she stood on the tip of the Titanic, arms spread wide, wind on her face and a handsome man breathing his warm breath down her neck, unadulterated attractive freedom! So when I remarried earlier this year, my mind reset into a past phase. My mind said, "Well Heidi, you're married now, time to have kids." Panic attacks set in quickly when I realized my body was "nesting" and my emotions were preparing for me to have another baby. This was something that my hubby and I discussed quite deeply before we were to wed because he is 13 years older than me and is to be a grandpa this year. We had decided that the option was on the table, but that it was not to be acted upon in the first year as to limit the amount of drastic adjustments we would in no doubt face while blending our families together. Unfortunately for me, my body and mind didn't read the memo.

When my youngest was born, my then-now ex-husband and I had decided we were done having kids. This was something that killed me inside. Our marriage was only a business transaction at that point and I felt it was one more thing that had died as a result. However, circumstances led me to needing a cesarean for delivery and when it came time to conveniently make an end to my fertile womb, something frightened me to a degree of silence and I only quietly wept as I was stitched up. I chose to not have the procedure. For years I thought it meant that I was not finished having kids and weighed that knowledge heavily against the men I dated as a deciding factor of if I would marry them. It was a bit of a challenge weighing it against my hubby because it seemed that the likelihood of us having kids was very slim. But I realized that regardless if we were to have kids, I wanted to be married to him, and so, here we are today.

This is what I am now stuck between:

~On one side of me lies the innate, "programed" way of life as a traditional wife and mother and the very strong desire to have a little one running around that looks like my hubby. A very good way of living.

~On the other lies my job and the ability of advancement, all my kids being independent, a full night's sleep, weekends where it's just my hubby and me, and the knowledge that I could possibly only share my life with him for another 30 or so years. Another very good way of living.

I am torn, not between the two, but at the realization I may be ready to leave the baby making phase behind, let my kids grow up and identify myself as someone more than a mom with young kids.

I'm only 33 and my mom was 36 when she had her youngest and my older sister is pregnant with her fifth the same time my baby sis is having her first. So it's not like the idea of having more kids at my age is far fetched. AND Bruce Willis just had his forth and he's 57ish so thinking that Handsome is too old to have kids at 46 is not really true, also considering his brother of 40ish and just had his first.
So this whole rant now leads me to this blog's question, When did you know it was alright to stop having kids?

I spoke about this to my sister(in-law) just the other night because like I said, it's been plaguing me. She at 30 decided four years prior she was done having kids and adamantly expressed how she did so with the reason being, "she wanted to enjoy her husband".  I feel the same way. I relish in the nights where it is just us two in a quiet home, free to run here or there or even naked around the house without the chance of a child interrupting our bliss or cutting the evening short by way of the babysitter's curfew. It is very probable that in ten years, Handsome and I could take off at will for any destination, just us two without the shadows of whining kids darkening our fun. (Not to say that family vacations aren't a bucket of fun!) Yet, I look at him and almost cry because I don't have a kid that looks like him.
Would it be all that terrible if I didn't have any more kids? Would it be all that hindering on my adult life to have another? I DO NOT KNOW!! What I do know is that the more time that goes by it leaves me feeling more and more reassured that my family is good enough the way it is and that I may be ready to switch from the diaper phase to the high school phase and not realize it, and this scares me. What are your thoughts on this? Did you just know you were done having kids or was it a struggle for you too? I feel very frightened at times when I contemplate this life altering decision (which doesn't need to be made today, it's just an imminent decision).

So I ask you, When did you know you were done having kids?
-or- When did you know you needed to have one more?