Beauty

All week I've been mulling over and trying to write about what beauty means to me. I don't know why I sometimes feel compelled to work my thoughts out into words, but beauty was on my mind and it wouldn't leave. I spent several of Amber's naptimes sitting in front of the computer, typing-typing-typing. But I couldn't get it right! I tried an emotional approach. I tried a calm approach. I even tried an intellectual approach. My words were fine but they weren't capturing my thoughts or feelings at all! It was maddening--a puzzle that I couldn't quite solve. So I took a few days off. This morning in the shower after a very rejuvenating 7 mile run, I finally figured out what I wanted to say about beauty. In regards to self-expression, I have some serious cheese-a-phobia. But when writing my feelings I'm learning that I can't fear the cheese too much or else nothing I write will be sincere. So here's my best try with minimal cheese. Kyle may want to take his lactose pill anyways though, just in case. I can't be sure.

Beauty is sacrifice. Sacrifice is the essence of beauty. What is more beautiful than giving a part of yourself to help someone else? Pure, selfless sacrifice is a beautiful thing. As I look back to trace my "journey" of learning about sacrifice, I love seeing how gently and gradually the Lord teaches us. Line upon line, here a little, there a little for sure!

When I was little, plenty sacrifices were made for me. My mom went through pregnancy and childbirth to give me life. She also cooked, cleaned, taught and loved me. My dad provided for me, cared for me, taught me, and loved me. As a child and teenager I rarely thought twice about my parents' sacrifices for me. In my mind, they were parents and it was their job to do those things. No big deal, right? Ha!

In my childhood I was taught the gospel, which included the atonement of Jesus Christ. I understood that his sacrifice was necessary for our salvation, but that was about as far as I got in my comprehension. Faith covered all the many things I didn't completely understand, and I was fine with that arrangement. 

Feeling the burn post-race

When I was on the cross country team at SVU, I learned a little bit more about sacrifice in a different way. Over and over at meets and practices I saw my teammates sacrifice important parts of themselves for the team. A couple of girls ran till they literally passed out. There were sore muscles, oxygen debt, gallons of sweat, injuries, and physical agony all in the team spirit. It brought us closer together. It was a deep feeling to watch a teammate stagger-sprinting past a competitor to the finish line to better our team's score. Sweat, blood, tears, and pain were very real sacrifices that I both made and witnessed all through those four years of collegiate cross country. I felt the bond that came from making sacrifices for a team. Sacrifice took on a more literal meaning for me.

When I married Jeff I learned a new level of sacrifice--loving someone beyond their flaws and putting another's comfort, needs, and desires before my own. Jeff taught me that through example. We learned from each other. I know I'm still learning from him. It is an amazing feeling to care so much about another person! Sacrifice makes marriage the best. It really makes marriage beautiful. 

New baby Jay

When I was pregnant with Jay, everything I thought I knew about sacrifice seemed like a speck of dust. Pregnancy: now THAT is true sacrifice. Goodbye health, food, comfort, physical prowess, abs, normal emotions, you name it, goodbye to it all! Pregnancy was an enormous sacrifice physically for me, and the magnitude of the physical sacrifice became greater with each progressive pregnancy. My pregnancy with Jay was an eye-opener: I thought "wow, this is hard and I'm giving so much! But I can do this." 

New baby Rose

Being pregnant with Rose was even harder and I really started depending on others' sacrifices to help me. I lived with my mom for the first three months and depended on her to take care of me. I saw the sacrifices she made for me, and they meant a lot, but at the same time she was my mom so it didn't feel like I was imposing too terribly much. And I kind of expected her to take care of me! What is it about kids taking their moms for granted? Ah!

My pregnancy where I was barfingly sick for two months before having a miscarriage was horrible: tube in arm, constant nausea and vomiting, weak wasted body, mammoth blood loss. It was a huge sacrifice physically for me to make but the sacrifices didn't end there. I depended on my friends from church to take care of Jay and Rose most days and bring dinners many nights because I was too sick to do anything. I felt like I was really sacrificing a lot for that baby. Then I didn't get a baby from the ordeal and I wondered what the point was! But then I realized that one thing I learned was how to allow others to serve me and sacrifice FOR me. Seeing their loving, willing service changed me. Their service and sacrifices were beautiful.

New baby Amber

Amber's pregnancy was the hardest of all. I thought I was all practiced up at sacrificing my own physical self for pregnancy, but Amber proved me wrong, testing me and stretching me past the limit. I lived in the hospital on a constant fluid drip for 8 days. I was weak and starving and nauseous the whole pregnancy. Every bite I ate for the whole 9 months was a trial. THAT was a hard hard sacrifice to make. Amidst my own traumatic sacrifice, everyone I knew also sacrificed their own time and energy to help me through: my husband, my kids, my family members, and my church friends. When I think about all of those sacrifices it's like looking straight at the sun--my eyes water and I feel warm and overwhelmed by the beauty of all that love. Sacrifice is beautiful.

When my sister-in-law Dani had her first baby this week, I was reminded of my own pregnancies and deliveries. Motherhood is such a painful, beautiful sacrifice. I feel so blessed to be able to experience it, difficulties and all. Watching my dear friends and family go through it is deep, joyful, and achingly beautiful. I hope that they can see through the pain and weird body changes to the pure beauty of the sacrifice.

Now my childbearing time is over and I face the day to day sacrifices of motherhood that seem minuscule in comparison to the gigantic-ness of growing and birthing a human. I plan and budget. I cook and clean. I read stories and play with kids instead of taking a break. I wrangle tantrums. I do laundry. I change diapers. I show love to my kids and family. I run with the stroller. My alone time often only occurs in the bathroom and then only if I remember to lock the door. All of these sacrifices seem so small on their own, and I know they are important and needed. In spite of my brain knowing their importance, every now and then my small daily sacrifices heap upon me and I feel so taken for granted, like I'm the unpaid servant of the house. While everyone is down in the basement playing I'm slaving in the kitchen making dinner. They rush in, gobble it down with nary a word of thanks, and then I clean up the dinner and the mess they made trying to help clean up. NOT snapping at them and lecturing them about the importance of gratitude and cleanliness feels like a magnanimous sacrifice on my part. When I have these kinds of days, my own mom becomes even more wonderfully beautiful to me!! 

As I get older I'm sure I'll learn about more layers and levels of sacrifice. But this is where I am 28.5 years into my journey, and right now to me beauty is sacrifice. Sacrifice means caring more about someone else than about yourself. Giving up personal comfort to help another person is beautiful. Service is an amazing thing. But the sacrifice that comes with service is where true beauty lies. Willingly giving part of yourself--whether it's time, money, or energy--to help another person is beautiful. It doesn't get better than that. 

love--> sacrifice--> beauty

If sacrifice is beautiful, that means that a stretched out, scarred post-baby stomach is beautiful. Tired eyes are beautiful. A lopsided homemade dinner is beautiful. Crumby floors are beautiful. Messy children are beautiful. My life is beautiful because it is full of sacrifices. My own sacrifices make me beautiful!

FIRST

Jay is a FIRST GRADER.

Today was his FIRST DAY of FIRST GRADE.

Jay was his normal cool and collected self leading up to his first day of school. We went and met his teacher yesterday, and he was quiet--not shy--just observant, collecting data. I avoided asking him if he was nervous because I didn't want to plant that seed if it wasn't an issue! So I just talked about how nice his teacher seems and how he has 3 kids from his kindergarten class in his first grade class. Then this morning when Jay was saying the breakfast prayer he said "please help me not to be nervous at school." I was on high alert! Jay never talks about being nervous or acts nervous or anything! Was he scared! Again it didn't feel like the right question to ask, so I held back and talked positively about his exciting new school year while we walked the half mile to the school. Jay seemed a little quiet, but calm and focused. 

It is amazing how every mother-bear protective instinct was instantly on high alert as I watch my sweet young son walk onto the crowded playground all by himself. Will he be ok? Will the other kids be nice to him? Will he know where to go? Will he make friends? Will he feel happy? Can I handle this? I was getting all wobbly-chinned and tight throated watching him walk toward the school today until a friend drove past and called hello out of her car window. I snapped out of it, stopped wallowing, and contained the motherly ache in my heart without it spilling from my eyes. Then I went and drowned my sorrows in an incredibly exhausting 3.5 mile run with the 95 pound double stroller. It worked wonders. I was too focused on oxygen and getting that beast of a stroller to move forward to worry overmuch about my tender Jay at school.  

 The whole crew: Amber--almost 10 months old, Rose--age 4.5, and Jay--age 6.25

Left: first day of kindergarten and Right: first day of first grade. The boy has grown. He wore the same shirt both years though! haha.

Walking selfie--an extreme sport.

 Isn't this the saddest thing? That little boy with a monkey backpack just walking away into the crowd. The look over his shoulder about did me in!

Post-run: Rose was goofing around with the sunshade and Amber was snoozing. It's been months since I ran with the double stroller and WHEW. 

Can you believe her LONG, DARK lashes? Right under strawberry eyebrows! 

Speaking of FIRSTs, the Brown family finally has an heir! Derek Steven Brown was born last night. He's my brother Brad and his wife Dani's firstborn. He was the exact same length and weight as Amber when she was born. But he has HAIR! What a guy! My newest little neph--I wish I could go to Arizona and give him an adoring auntie hug and a squeeze. Newborns are so tiny and darling! LOVE.

All in all, a great week of firsts.

One for the road--early this morning, piled in bed together. Rose said "Amber smells like Rice Krispies!"

Aloha

Today was THE LAST DAY of our beautiful, relaxing summer. Jeff goes back to work tomorrow. I'm dreading it! I find that I nearly always balk at big changes. I've been a "worrier" my whole life--some of my earliest memories are of worrying. It's probably a legitimate but mild case of anxiety. Starting school each year as a child (and later) was always a major exercise in anxiety control. And I simply dread going visiting teaching. I worry about the next primary girls activity day I have to plan. I even feel distressed when I have to call some non-mom/sister person and talk on the phone! If I see someone I know at the store, I have to fight the impulse to hide and avoid social interaction. Lots of times I hide anyways, and it's never because I don't like the person! It's because I don't like having unexpected small talk foisted upon me. Social stress! Introvert plus anxiety equal I think I'll be a hermit. Spain is actually selling entire abandoned 15th century hamlets for the price of a modest American home right now--that possibility is definitely on my list of retirement options. Thank goodness my husband is on the same social page as me, even if he doesn't worry as effectively as I do. Thankfully I can usually keep my tendency to worry under control with lots of willpower and rational thoughts. But it is always lurking, waiting to pounce upon me when my defenses next go down. 

Believe it or not, this post is not meant to be about my annoying anxiety. It's about beginnings and endings. Summer break is ending. NOW. Sniff!

In the previous three summers of Jeff's employment as a teacher, I have braced myself for summer's end throughout the vacation. I was unwilling to let myself get completely used to such a life of ease with my husband home 24/7, only to have it end. This summer I gave myself over entirely to the convenience and joy of having my whole family home full time--quite the feat considering my tendency to anxiety. I didn't dread the bliss of summer ending until this week. I simply enjoyed the low-key relaxing time we spent together this summer. Jeff and I perfected the art of "tag-team parenting", as I like to call it. Each morning we took turns running and watching the kids. If one of us had to go to the store, the other one stayed home with the kids. We did family trips and walks. We did projects at home. It was a peaceful, restful, HAPPY summer. 

When change comes I tend to "wax philosophical", as my dad likes to say. This week at the end of our summery bliss, I've been thinking about how an ending is also a beginning. When one thing ends, something else always begins. It reminds me of the word "aloha." Doesn't "aloha" mean hello and goodbye? Those Hawaiians have it right! Aloha is really quite a profound word. With aloha we say goodbye to one person/place/phase while simultaneously greeting the next. Instead of mourning the loss of what's gone, aloha looks ahead to what's beginning. I love that idea! I want to acknowledge an ending and welcome a beginning all in one breath. Aloha!

Ow.

Playing Scrabble Junior with Spencer. 

Jay lost his two front teeth this month! He wiggled them until they literally fell out of his mouth.

Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate

Little miss personality

My reading buddy.

She bit her lip falling down the stairs. Poor little vampire baby!

Pretending we're on a date, when we're really laying sideways across a mountain of clean laundry.

 

I can't decide what I like better during family scripture time: listening to Jay read a verse from the Book of Mormon or watching Jeff's face while Jay reads! That fatherly amusement and pride is great. Jay is also learning how to ride his bike without training wheels.

 ROSE! She mopped the bathroom floor for me this week--with hand sanitizer and her white bath towel. 

I love their faces.

We played tag on the trampoline and Amber was "it" once. It was a little bit dangerous, but a whole lot of fun and thankfully nobody broke any bones this time.

 I'm looking forward to spending more quality time with these two girls this school year. 

Till we meet again next year, beautiful blissful summer.

Aloha, school year!

ALOHA!