A Few of My Favorite Things

So, the whole concept of the Top 5 list sort of...well, disappeared, really. I kind of got bored with the whole thing. But this week, I kept thinking about how a few small simple items just make my life a lot better, and before I knew it, this post was half-written in my head.

Top 5 Little Things that Make a BIG Difference:

1. Kava Hairbrush: Several months ago a precious now-2-year-old threw my beloved brush into a toilet. Yuck. Last week, I finally got a new one (thanks, Mom!). We are reunited--and yes, it feels so good. Like a scalp massage with every brush-through.

2. Latex sponge foam pillow: Many years ago, I stole such a pillow from my younger sister Katy. I have not admitted it until this day, in spite of the fact that she knows I took it as well as I do. It's a long-standing transgression that I have not repented of, because I can not bring myself to regret my actions. These pillows... ah, can I even describe the joy? They practically bounce when you drop them on the floor. The springiness accounts for how you always get the perfect amount of soft resistance from your pillow. Sleeping on anything else literally gives me a headache. Does this make me a diva vis-a-vis the Princess and the Pea? Absolutely. And I'm not a bit ashamed of it.

3. Semi-sweet chocolate chips: Make a powerful contribution to any chocolate chip cookie (and to the size of my thighs, but... whatever). I. Love. Chocolate. Chips. In college while writing English essays or news articles, I kept a sizable handful nearby. Perfect to munch on while trying to figure out how to be brilliant.

4. Size 5 circular knitting needles: With needles too big or small, my hands cramp up after a while, and I can't get into a really great rhythm. But size 5 needles are bliss, the Goldilocks zone of my knitting world.

5. The Book of Mormon: A chapter a day keeps the devil away. Truly, I can't thing of any other thing in my life that yields so much from such little effort on my part. On really great days, I have time to sit and ponder. Mostly, it's just reading because I know I should. In spite of my lack of engagement, there is a power in just reading this book; it has the power to elevate my life from the "getting by" mentality to the "life is good/I'm so grateful/let's get things done" mentality. A few days without it (or Gospel study of some kind) and my perception of my world begins to deteriorate and the mean reds take over. It's like the difference between plain old vanilla ice cream and a super hot fudge sundae with peanuts on top. Only much more important. So grateful for my testimony of this inspired--and inspiring--work.

Ada's Blessing

Today we blessed our baby girl. It's been a lovely day. We were lucky enough to have both mine and Chris's parents in town, as well as some of our siblings and some beloved family friends.

It should be noted that Ada is the first daughter of a first daughter of a first daughter for a few generations back. Also the first granddaughter of a first granddaughter for... I'm not sure how many generations back. Really glad we got these photos today. Really glad I decided to take a chance on some big earrings. I never buy big jewelry, or big accessories of any kind. Being little myself, I feel like they speak louder than I do and pass over them as a general rule without a second look. But these are lovely, aren't they? Also, while I'm being vain, I may as well state that these pictures solidify that I like the left side of my face better than the right.

Also this week was Ada's one-month mark. Some notes about this girl so far:

*In one word: Hungry

*Has strawberry-brownish hair

*My mother says she's the spitting image of me

*Knew who her daddy was right from birth; daddy's girl

*Wakes 1-2/night

*Is fascinated by W

*Has a fussy spell each evening from about 5-8; giving her an extra feeding seems to help

*Deep blue eyes

*Favorite lullaby so far seems to be The Beatles's "Golden Slumbers"; also responds to "Sweet Baby James" (which I sing as Sweet Ada Jane, naturally)

*Already batting at toys in front of her

*At about 50% for both height and weight

More than (Just) Words

Did you ever read William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying? In one of my favorite passages in all fiction-dom, the story's heroine Addie Bundren recounts a story in which her well-meaning but misguided neighbor shows up at her door to call her to repentance. Addie then goes into a little sermon about what repentance is, and what it means.

"She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too."

This part has resonated with me since first I read it. That moment when something you've heard all your life and thought you understood suddenly becomes more than just very familiar words. When something you thought was a cliche turns out to be rooted in some pretty serious truth.

Thursday was the perfect storm: Poor diet+lack of sleep+two kids needing my attention at every turn+a healthy dose of my own impatience=Becca meltdown of (almost) epic proportions. And when I say epic, I don't mean, "Dude it was epic." But real epic. Like Odysseus and the Charybdis.

I was doubting everything from my choice of wardrobe to my divine calling of being a mother. When the day was finally over, part of me wanted to forget it all happened and drown my sorrows in the boob tube and the aforementioned Ben & Jerry's. The other part (and, it turns out, the greater part) wanted to unload all of these emotional burdens on my husband.

As it all came spilling out, he just sat there, so patiently, listening to my word vomit--things you think you mean at night, only to discover in the light of the morning that exhaustion made some latent and pretty benign feelings seem much more pernicious. When I was done spilling my guts, he reminded me that the divine calling of being a mother has nothing to do with changing diapers, fixing meals, or any of the mundane and often frustrating parts of my day. Being a mother is about loving and caring for my children. All the other tasks are just side duties. This is something I believe in and preach often enough to my mom friends in need of just such a pep talk. But I have to say, it's pretty powerful being on the receiving end.

As I sat there, feeling the Spirit for the first time that day, I began to review the day's work in my mind. All day, the running self-pitying commentary in my head was that I am never able to get done what I want to get done. That I would love to be the mom I want to be... if only circumstances would let me. And as I thought about this attitude (that I've had since becoming a mother), I realized that this is exactly what people are talking about when they talk about the need to become the person Heavenly Father wants them to be. This concept--something I'd understood only definitively--suddenly became more than the words used to express it.

I've had this image in my head of what I think the perfect mother would be like--and maybe I lose my cool sometimes because this image is incompatible with reality. And maybe I keep running into barriers because this person I'm trying to become is neither real nor what my Heavenly Father has in mind for me.

It so happens that the Conference talk I read during my Gospel study that day was Lynn G. Robbins's talk, "What Manner of Men and Women Ought Ye to Be?" I had completely forgotten about this talk. As a matter of fact, I've actually been praying lately that in the next Conference, someone would give a talk about parenting and how to discipline--turns out, my prayers had already been answered. For anyone else dealing with a toddler and a newborn, I strongly encourage at least a look-over of these inspiring words. Especially:

"A sweet and obedient child will enroll a father or mother only in Parenting 101. If you are blessed with a child who tests your patience to the nth degree, you will be enrolled in Parenting 505. Rather than wonder what you might have done wrong in the premortal life to be so deserving, you might consider the more challenging child a blessing and opportunity to become more godlike yourself. With which child will your patience, long-suffering, and other Christlike virtues most likely be test, developed, and refined? Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?"

It seems that there's something more powerful at work than my 2-year-old's willfulness. Maybe I'm not the worst mother on the planet. Maybe I wasn't overlooked when divine feminine attributes were being passed out in the premortal realm. Maybe my kid is just learning, and I'm learning right along with him. And at the end of the ordeal, maybe we'll both end up being a little closer to who we're meant to be.

Postpartum Prerogatives:

(Yum. And, hey, there are 7g protein in a serving, which--in my book--means this is a totally healthy treat.)

(God bless the people who are making television worth watching.)

Ada Jane

Ada Jane

7/3/2011

7 lbs, 3 oz. 19.5 in.

This girl has completely captured my heart. I'm a lucky woman. So far, both my birthing experiences have been amazing, bordering on the surreal. Details to follow, but mostly these days the most accurate descriptive word is: blessed.