Random Thoughts from a Random Mother

This last week has been pretty rough with Beau fervently rejecting his magic shoes and my biceps fervently rejecting the workout they're getting from carrying Beau around all the time. I've had a lot of time to think because Beau cleared my schedule of everything else, like naps and cleaning and sewing (yes, I said sewing. I, the self-proclaimed hater of the sewing machine, have picked up a new little hobby that I'll try to post about later...). So, here are some of my random thoughts...

1. If I could will certain parts of myself to my children, this is what my will would state:

I, Keri Payne, mother of three children, do hereby will to my daughter Rebekah my mouth, brain, and funny bone. Bekah has proven herself to be a quick wit and she is constantly trying to engage me in telling stories, singing songs, and explaining everything in infinite detail. Beware of a lull in conversation, because Bekah will be there, asking me to tell her a story about a princess who goes camping or shopping or lion hunting.

Next, I hereby will my ears, legs, and that spot on my shoulder to Jacob. Jacob is loud and demanding of my attention, yelling "Mom! Mom!" until I respond. Then he'll say, "Know what? Lion came last night!" And then we'll have a full discussion about whether it was a nice or mean lion, what it did, and whether Jacob shot it or not. Jacob gets my legs because I'm always running to help him, especially for bathroom related issues. I wish clothes came in a roll like toilet paper, and I could just rip off a pair of pants and underwear every time I needed another pair. Jacob would go through a roll in a week flat. And Jacob gets my shoulder because he is a true softie and he's always needing a hug.

Finally, I hereby will my heart to Beau. (And maybe one other part of my anatomy that he has fallen in love with, the guarantor of his chubbiness). Don't get me wrong, I love all of my children, but Beau is the newest and cuddliest and the least irrational, crazy one of the bunch, and when I hold him my heart swells and I want to kiss him until there's nothing left.

2. I've thought a lot about suffering this last week. I read a story about a currant bush that grew too large and got pruned back until it was merely a stump with roots. The poor bush seemed to cry out, "I was nearly half as large as the trees across the fence, and might soon have become like one of them. But now you've cut my branches back; the green, attractive leaves are gone, and I am in disgrace among my fellows." And then the gardener responds, "Do not cry; what I have done to you was necessary that you might be a prize currant bush in my garden. You were not intended to give shade or shelter by your branches. My purpose when I planted you was that you should bear fruit. When I want currants, a tree, regardless of its size, cannot supply the need...and someday, when you see more clearly, when you are richly laden with luscious fruit, you will thank me and say, 'Surely, he was a wise and loving gardener. He knew the purpose of my being, and I thank him now for what I then thought was cruelty.'" (from Hugh B. Brown, Eternal Quest). This story made me realize that my Heavenly Father knows my true purpose, and he knows what I can become. I have to trust him to help me become that person, even if that means that I have to be pruned, or suffer through trials that might seem unnecessary and cruel to me at the time.

3. Again, on suffering, I love the quote by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, "I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to remain vulnerable." (Time, 5 February 1973). This last week I realize I have been mouring the fact that Beau will have to wear his brace for the next three years. My mind seems drawn to all of the scenarios where having his brace will make things difficult, like "Oh, I won't be able to carry him on my hip. He can't sit in the seat in the grocery cart unless I take his shoes off and put them back on. What about when he's potty training and wakes up in the night to go to the bathroom?" Really all of these complaints mean nothing when I kick myself and say, "He'll be able to walk, you ungrateful mother!"

And now some pics to complete the randomness of this post:

Beau on his blessing day, what a cutie!

Bekah and Jacob aka Batman.
Hiking up in Glorieta. Perfect weather and good kids. Bekah walked about 3 miles and Jacob walked about 1 1/2. Rus had the Kelty backpack and the kids took turns riding.
We turned around at this cool old car. Rus saw this pic and got mad at me for chopping off the top of his head. I said there's nothing there on top, so what does it matter!
We were able to get both kids walking by distracting them with stories. I'm getting really good at telling stories about Princess Rebekah and Lion Hunter Jacob.