Out of the Blue

I have been aching to write something these days. And our lives are changing so rapidly that I wanted to get something down so I could remember how I felt before we moved, and how I feel now, so when life really erupts with Logan starting medical school I will have something to look back at. I don’t really know why. I guess dwelling on the past is t good, but I thought maybe I could give my future self some encouragement. Because I’m truly terrified.

As of right now, medical school is daunting but an exciting step. This has honestly been the best summer ever. We visited all of our family, swam a LOT, visited the beach, and generally just spent so much time together as a family. Logan and I have grown closer. I feel like I’ve been a better mom. Life has just been sweet. I know our family needed all this time to strengthen and build the best relationship we could to prepare for what’s ahead. I just plead with God that it will be enough to get us through, and that throughout school and the rest of our lives we will always try to do our best to remain close to the Spirit and to Heavenly Father so we can be continually guided and strengthened. The Lord has been so good to us, especially in providing us with the confidence to keep moving toward this incredible goal that we’ve had for our family for so many years. I love my Savior, and my Heavenly Parents. I love my earthly family dearly. O am forever grateful for them all.

two kids. TWO.

March 17, 2016

I have two kids. TWO KIDS. There are TWO small children living in my home and I am in charge of taking care of them. I would like to honestly tell you what it’s like for me/us.

Glenda June was born and I was instantly enamored by her infant beauty and peace. She is…

 

UDPATE: October 4, 2018

….WHAT?? She is WHAT, Tanya? You fool, how could you stop there? You know how easily I forget things, how could you leave yourself hanging like that? Luckily that first night after Glenda was born I still do remember. I remember just being so obsessed with how beautiful she was. I would actually wake Logan up to ask him if he was seeing what I saw.

Life since then has been really, honestly, the best. Everyone will say there are ups and downs to parenthood, and they’re right. It’s no less true for me. But I forget most of the bad when the kids go to bed, and I think they do too. So we wake up each day with a new start. Sometimes it’s a good start, sometimes not. But it really never matters what anyone else has to say about parenthood; I have my own things to say about my family. I love them beyond my ability to articulate, and I think they are each the very coolest versions of themselves and anyone else who might be even remotely like them.

 

Whoooooo are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?

I’ve just realized I’ve spent the better part of the last 7 years wishing I was still some former version of myself.

I found some old documents on the hard drive from the laptop I used throughout college, and all of these writings seem so foreign to me; written by a complete stranger, yet someone I long to be. I wrote them all. But they bear no resemblance to my current self, or so I think. I still feel all of the same feelings, and have many of the same thoughts, even still. But in my mind this previous person has been hidden all these years. Buried under some mound of distraction and confusion.

Could it be I’m finally digging my way out, fingertips churning up through the top soil, to peek into the world I now know?

My Mac.

These are just some things Mac says that I don’t want to forget.

Tonight was a rough night. Mac had been disobedient more times than I was willing to be patient for. So I took a lot of anger out on him and it was making me sick. So I asked him why he was only obedient when it meant he would get something like a toy or a trip to the movies. He said, “Mom, I don’t just like all the toys and things. I like all the things in the whole world. I like you. And I like to do just do things because I like to. It’s not always about toys.” It’s hard to describe in typing, but I could tell he was trying to reassure me that he isn’t only good to get something back (something I’ve been really trying to teach him about lately). He’s such an awesome kid.

His prayers sound like this sometimes:

” We know that we love God. Thank you for repentance. Thank you that we can do good things. Thank you that we can live with you again. Help us to do nice things for our brothers and sisters.”

Incidentally, Glenda’s sound like this 100% of the time:

“Thank you for this day. Thank you for God. Christ amen.”

🙂

 

Welcome to all of this. It all feels new.

I’ve felt lately as though I’ve been thrust into a new learning curve of all the life stuff. Contrary to how a previous form of myself might have felt, it’s actually been pretty thrilling. There was a time in my life where I was so concerned with being an individual, yet at the same time having all of my feelings validated. I wanted so badly to be different, and for my thoughts and experiences to be unique to me, but simultaneously wanting to be understood and to share commonalities with someone else. Growing older, though, I’ve noticed more and more how freeing it feels to really, truly LIKE myself. That lesson has been on my mind for years. I always think I’m good with myself and then every so often I’ll find something about myself I hadn’t noticed before. I really think everyone has to cross that bridge. I’m convinced even the most confident of folks have had some insecurities they wished they liked more about themselves, and eventually had to learn to either change, or accept and consequently love. I’ve been crossing those bridges right-and-left lately, and like I said, it’s been thrilling. The growth and learning has been just enough out of my comfort zone to benefit me, but not so much that I hate everything. So I’m enjoying it, and I’m grateful for that.

That Man Might Be

If I had my choice

I would hop skip sprint

Back and forward to that day

Night weekend Sunday afternoon or whenever it was

Where you were merely a visitor.

 

I’d slingshot pry dive

My way into that little velvet notebook

Of yours from whence your idioms and isms spring.

Pick away at the roots of my garden all you want;

I will dig you out

You’ve taught me too much

Dare me beg me politely plead with me

Not to publicize your tactics;

I refuse to be leveled by your playing field.

 

I’d go back to when you

First made it clear you understood what made me tick

Only to stop you dead in your cloven tracks

To cry out

You will not own me.

And bite.

Drafts and drafts and drafts (x4)

TWELVE drafts! I have 12 drafts in my feed that I never finished, and that really upsets me. I had so many things to say at one point! Sometimes I feel like all I have to say lately are the same things every day. I ask Logan the exact same questions about his day, I tell him the exact same things about mine (whether he wants to know or not), and it just keeps going on and on that way.

I know everyone says this, but it really does make me so sad to walk around town and see 95% of people busy on their phones. We’re all missing so much life. BUT, that’s one of the bajillion reasons I’m so glad I have my kids. Kids are SO GOOD at noticing things that fly right past our drooping necks and down-turned noses. Every single time I change my hair from up-to-down, or down-to-up, or straight-to-wavy, etc. Mac notices and says something immediately. Today I wore lipstick for the first time in … like … a decade and when Mac saw me he stopped, sweetly stared at my face, and said “Oh…I like your face! You painted it!” That’s kids, you guys. And by golly I sure love mine.

“it never goes away, but it all works out”

I realize that line seems to be taken a bit out of context of the song’s meaning, but not to me. It has been something of an echo in my head for a time. For a while I just paid attention to those 4 words, “it all works out.” But I’ve been treating my life like the woman in that song. At one time or another I’ve pledged myself, in a sense, to my life; to self. I’ve promised myself I’d be kinder to me, I’d discover my own passions, I’d choose to be satisfied–happy, even–with the here and now. I know that’s not unique to me (there’s really not much that’s unique to me. We’re all basically similar, I’ve noticed. But that’s actually okay!), but familiar personal battles don’t make them mean less. And lately as I’ve paid more attention it’s been a fairly natural thing to let myself enjoy life amid her stressors and challenges. It’s been easier to have more time with myself than apart from  myself. 

But any way, the hard things; the uncertain things; the realization that you’ve been neglecting the thing you’ve pledged to love; it never goes away. But it all works out.

A Smooth Snow

I watched the snow fall almost all night, and for the first time I can remember I wasn’t panicking. I wasn’t thinking, “Ok, how early do I need to start shoveling in the morning?” All I really felt was excitement. Because I knew that in just a few hours my boy would wake up and squeal, “Mom!”

We stayed in for the morning until Glenda went down for a nap, then it was Mom and Mac–snow bunnies. I would shovel the walk with him trailing behind with his own shovel and frozen grin. Every-so-often I would her a “puff” in the snow and look behind me to see Mac face-down in the snow–intentionally. The crazy nugget would just spontaneously throw himself onto the snowbanks. I say “spontaneously” with the utmost intention, because that’s what little kids do, right? They think, then immediately do. And even though I usually let it frustrate me, I’m starting to realize it’s one of the countless things that make kids so great.

Harvest 2016

I have loved so many things about living in Idaho for the past 8 (almost 9!) years. But getting a closer look at farm life has certainly been one of the most inspiring. Our cousins used to playfully tease us growing up when we’d come visit during the summers; they’d call us the “city kids.” I was always kind of proud of the fact that I came from the city; as if I knew some kind of better world that they were missing out on. I’m glad to say I quickly caught on to reality after moving here. It’s hard to argue who works the hardest in the world. It’s subjective, relying on one or another’s definition of what makes a job “hard.” Lots of people work hard. But for the sake of relevancy (to the season, and the topic of this post), I just want to say to the farmers: high-freakin’-five to you and all you do. It’s so much more than just harvest time. It’s all. year. round. All hours of the day or night. Plowing, tilling, harrowing, planting, harvesting, repairing, watering, worrying, calculating.

Also, thank you. For all of it.