Perspective

My how our perspectives change.

Quite a few years ago, I wrote a very judgmental post.  Possibly one of several.  I was a young mom.  I had two tinies, around ages 1 and 3. We were at the park.  My hubs and I were playing with our children and basking in their happiness as one proudly showed us what he was building and the other was trying to eat sand.  It was a peaceful time.  I felt like a really great mom. 

A car pulled up and two little children jumped out, I believe around ages 3 and 4.  They ran over to the playground, ran back to the car, seemingly begging those in the car to come play, at least that was my assumption, then they'd run back to play, sans car passengers.

I remember thinking, "Oh, they just want their parents to play with them.  Why don't they come play?" 

I came home and wrote a blog post about how I hoped I'd always be attentive and how I hoped I'd always get out of the car and "be present."

I was wrong.

I have no idea why the adults were sitting in the car.  Perhaps they were arguing and didn't want to do it in front of the kids.  Maybe one had just gotten home from offshore or overseas, and wanted some alone time with their spouse.  Honestly, it doesn't matter what the reason was.  It was none of my business.  

Not only that, but I am that person now.  Sometimes I play attentively with my kids at the park.  I'm a kid at heart and love to go wild on a playground.  However, if I have an adult there to talk to, that's what I do.  I allow them to run and play and fall and get back up again.  I allow them to entertain themselves without me.  I allow them to see that sometimes mom needs time with her friends too.  And I know that I am mostly present and still mostly a great mom, as are most of the moms I know.

It's amazing how much our perspective changes.  I imagine myself ten years from now seeing this post from an entirely different angle, and I welcome it.

Empathy not Judgement

At the risk of making my mom feel bad, I write this post.  I write it though with good intentions.  I need her to know that I know.  I know she's in pain and I know how hard she fights.

When I was a baby my mom was in a horrific car accident.  In her review mirror, at a stop light, she saw she was about to be hit from behind and instinct made her throw her hand up to the dashboard.  When the people hit her she went through the dashboard with her right arm. It caused major damage.

After some time, she was able to go back to work as a maternity nurse.  One day a lady fainted on her, and again instinct took over and she tried to catch her with that damaged arm.  It caused more major damage to her arm.  I don't know everything that happened because I was little and have never read her charts, nor am I a doctor.  I do know that it caused irreparable damage.  She had many surgeries on it, each one making it worse. Physical therapy also made it worse. It caused chronic pain and headaches that she's been fighting for as long as I can remember. She was not able to go back to the job she loved.

On the outside she looks fine.  Unless you know her.  Those of us who have lived with her can see when trouble is brewing even when she is faking it for everyone else. The medications she needs have caused other health problems, in addition to some genetic health issues.

When I was four-years-old my mom and I were standing in the kitchen.  It's one of my earliest memories.  She fainted.  It happened often.  Without a pause I slid a kitchen stool over to the washer and dryer, climbed up, got the smelling salts, jumped back down and put it under her nose.  She jumped awake and wondered what had happened. I helped her up and we moved on.

My mom is a go-getter.  She hates being laid up.  She pushes too hard, too often, and often ends up in bed for several days trying to recover.  She also loves to have fun.  When I was a teen she and my dad loved to go country swing and western line dancing, in fact, they taught it for years.  As often as I could I went along so that I could do the swing part of the teaching so my mom didn't have to lift her arm up and wouldn't get as injured. When I wasn't there, she did the swing anyway, despite the pain, because it was such a joy to her and she was willing to suffer the consequences.  I remember getting upset at her many times and telling her she shouldn't do so much and then be sick for days, her answer was, "I want to have a life."

There were times when I'd get very upset.  When I was 9 there was something she couldn't go do with me because it was too much. I don't remember what it was, but I do remember quietly telling her that I wish I had a mom who wasn't sick all the time.  She started to cry and I felt horrible.  I apologized but you can't take that stuff back.  I was a little girl, so she understood, but I still feel terrible.

Throughout the years she would pass out in the shower the most often.  When she was really sick, she'd come tell me she needed a shower and this was a clue for me to listen in and come help her if she needed it.  Many times when she fell she'd hit her cheek or browbone on the soap dish or side of the tub and would break them.  She was often covered in bruises.

Every two weeks she would need to go to the doctor.  I'd get so angry when I had to drive her. I hated it. I was only worried about me and my time and how bored I'd get.  Looking back, I wish I'd realized what a simple service it was.

When Caleb and I were finishing up school, we moved in with my parents for a time.  My mom hadn't been feeling well for a few days so I went to check on her.  She was sitting in her armchair, her head to her chest.  I called to her several times and got no response.  I slapped her several times and got no response.  Then I felt for a pulse but by then I was pretty wired and shaking.  I couldn't feel one so I screamed for my dad.  He came in and said she had a weak pulse but it was there.  We called the ambulance and got help for her.  It was one of the scariest moments in my life. Caleb still talks about it as well.  I think it was the first time he realized what life had been like for my mom and our family.

Despite all of this, she was at all of our events,  we were not left lacking.  Our parents took us on vacations and camping and all sorts of fun things.  She suffered as much as she could so that we could have a good life and we love her for it.

This is only a small portion of stories I could tell. I am not sharing this for sympathy for me but I am sharing it for sympathy for my mom and others who suffer from chronic, not visible to the eye, pain. I get angry when I hear of people discussing others' pain or illnesses.  For one, I can't figure out why they think it's any of their business.  Number two, it's unfair to the people suffering it as well as to the people who have helped care for them and nursed them through it for years.  It is hurtful. Unless you are their doctor (which my mom has had the same doctor for as long as I can remember), or the people who have lived with the person behind closed doors, you have no business worrying about their medications and their diagnosis.

If you don't have a family member with invisible chronic pain you probably don't even know what I'm talking about.  If you do, however, you know.  You know how hurtful and judgmental people can be.

There have also been amazing, loving people, who have helped over the years.  People who would stop by and see how sick she was and would bring meals.  People who helped her with kids and grandkids when she needed it.  People who come and vacuum for her and other things that are hard to do with a pounding migraine and hurt arm.  We are thankful for those people.  The people who have just loved her and just loved all of us.  To them, THANK YOU.

Geocaching Fiasco: Part Three

We were lucky enough to attend a congregation that had many lawyers in it.  Unfortunately none of them were criminal defense attorneys.  They did have hook-ups though and soon we had an attorney.  Our first appointment with him we went in semi-light heart-ed.  We were trying to see the humor of it all. We left broken heart-ed and stressed.

I don't want to go into too many details of that meeting.  The feelings are still raw and I don't want to think about it. It was rough.  It was intense.  There were a lot of tears.  When I'm pregnant, once the tears start flowing, I can't make them stop, and this was no exception.

Basically we were told this was much more serious than we thought it was. We were told that it while it was very likely we could get the charges dropped, it was not certain.  We were told that they had seen Caleb as "cocky" and it made matters worse. We were told that this was quite possibly going to cost us around $10,000 because even if we got the charges dropped, it was likely we'd get sued by all the businesses who had been shut down for the money they lost. We were also told that the city might sue us for the money they lost calling in the troops.

We were young.  We didn't have a lot of money saved up.  We had no debt and had just paid off all of our cars and we had a teeny bit of money in savings.  That was it.  We were in no place for this financial burden. I'm anal about money and cannot stand not having some savings for a rainy day.  I was so sick to my stomach about being in debt.  I couldn't believe we were likely going to spend hours in court and away from my sweet babies.  It was just crazy.

Luckily it did not take a lot of time to get the charges dropped.  I believe it took a couple of weeks.  That was a relief.  Then we waited anxiously to see if any businesses would sue us.  At about the four month mark we felt relief and were starting to think it a done deal and we were good to go.

Then we received a bill in the mail from the city for a little over $4,000 for costs accrued.

Geocaching Fiasco: Part Two

They searched our house and computer because I had shown them the geocaching website.  Meanwhile I am pacing trying to keep calm but getting more upset by the minute.

Finally, I can't remember how long it took them to bring me our son, but it was awhile.  The officer opened the door with my boy in his arms. I reach out and ripped him from his arms, crying.  He said, "Ma'am you know we had to look into it.  We had to take precautions. You have to understand."  I sad, "No.  My husband and son went out to play a game together and you arrested my husband and took my son.  I don't feel like being understanding right now."

He was a kind man and gently talked to me.  He told me that it had all been a mistake and that my husband would be home soon.  He also told me it had been a huge ordeal.  They'd called in all the reinforcements they could ICE, the bomb squad, the FBI, sheriff's department and police officers from ours as well as surrounding cities. They had shut down an entire section of the city, including several businesses.

After this everyone left our house telling me my hubby would be home soon.  I tried calling several friends, one a geocaching buddy of Caleb's, and one being my neighbor and a fellow parishioner at our church. I couldn't stop pacing.  They had told me they had pulled him over close to our house so I kept loading up the kids in a stroller and walking up the road trying to see if I could see anything.  After a couple of hours I started calling all the places they could be holding him.  He had not been booked anywhere so they couldn't tell me where he was. At some point someone called our Bishop.  He's a pretty assertive and feisty guy.  He called me and I told him that although they said Caleb would be home soon, he was still not home.  He told me to take my kids somewhere, he was picking me up, we were going to go find him.

I dropped our little people off at the neighbors and Bishop and I went on the hunt. We went to several places and they'd say, "We can't tell you where he is."  Bishop was like, "You can and you will." It worked. We finally found out he was at the Sheriff's station.

Even after they ascertained that it was not a bomb, they arrested him.  They charged him with something like interfering with the work of a police officer. I went to get bail money but the banks were closed and you can only get so much out of an ATM so we had to go to Bishop's bank too and get money out of his account.

The Bishop had somewhere to be so our Elder's Quorum president (another leader from church) came to sit with me. I didn't know him that well at the time but he was a great guy to have to sit and wait with.  He was sympathetic and funny and made waiting a lot easier.  We waited for quite awhile.  When I was filling out some paperwork a police officer came up to me and whispered, "I'm a geocacher.  This is crap." And then he was gone.

Sometime late that night he was released.  It was a relief but then we realized they had impounded our car.  We got a ride home, and took our second car down to pay to get the car out of impound.

We were so relieved we were kind of slap silly at this point.  We were blown away by the whole thing but mostly just relieved.  We thought it was mostly over.  We were wrong.

Geocaching Fiasco: Part One

Seven years ago January, my husband was arrested (until I finish the story, I want to add here that he did not break the law and all charges were eventually dropped).  I have searched and searched for where I wrote the original story and cannot find it, so I'm writing it again.  One because it's entertaining, two, the lessons we learned need to be recorded.

I was sick.  I was in my first trimester of my third pregnancy.  We had two kids, a boy and girl, ages three and one.  My husband was a huge fan of geocaching.  He needs hobbies to keep his busy mind occupied.  His big brother introduced him to it while visiting us and Caleb was instantly obsessed.  I had/have a love hate relationship with it.  Love because it has gotten us out there to see and do things we wouldn't have otherwise, hate because it can be time consuming and while traveling can make trips really, really long.

On this particular day, I was extremely sleepy.  It was time for our daughter to nap and I planned to lay down with her. The hubs didn't actually want to geocache on this particular day, but I asked him to take our son out and let me rest in peace and quiet.

At one point he headed straight for a small geocache hidden inside of a lamp post at Academy Sports.  There is not a lot (or maybe not any) public land in Texas so more geocaches were hidden inside of the city limits than in other states.  He had tried to get this one before but there had always been "muggles" (non-geocachers) about.   This time he pulled right up to it, hopped out and left the car running, quickly pulled out the geocache, signed the paper inside, stuck it back in the post and drove away.

Meanwhile I'm at home sleeping.

I was woken by a knock at the door.  Two plainclothes police officers were standing there, "Are you married to a Caleb Osborn?" "Um, yes." "He's been arrested."  My hand actually flew to my heart like an old-time movie.  Then I laughed. "You're joking right?  My husband?  Short, quiet Caleb?  What could he have done?"  I'm thinking it's a prank of some sort.  He had some goofy co-workers at the time.

"We can't tell you what he was arrested for but is there somewhere in the house he would go that you wouldn't know about?"  "Um....well I wouldn't know about it, right?" I'm being a little snarky because at this point I still think it's some sort of joke.

Sheepishly, "Well, ma'am we need to look through your house."  Then it hit me.  They mean business.  It also hit me what was probably happening.  Every geocacher knows it's a possibility.  "Oh my gosh. He's geocaching.  Playing a game.  You know with GPS units and tupperware. Do you think he planted a bomb?!"

At that point I let them in.  I really believed in our justice system and didn't think twice about letting them look around.  One of the police men knew what geocaching was and I saw it in his face when he realized it was all a big mistake.  However, he had to follow protocol.

"Wait?! Where's my son?!"  It had taken me a minute to realize I had no idea where my little boy was.  That was the point where I started to get very angry and and upset.  "He'll be home in a bit ma'am." I can't remember where they said he was, I just remember they said he'd be home soon and that I started shaking as I do when I get any sort of adrenaline rush, but especially when I'm angry.

The Not so Little Little Things

I mentioned in my last post that emotionally I have been up and down in the last year.  More than any other time in my life.  I am happy to report

that I have been feeling happy and content for the most part since before that post.  The light at the end of the tunnel is my reality, I'm in that light. I know things will always be ups and down, but I try to enjoy the sunshine as much as I can.

It's not that I've been less busy. I've been busier than I have been in a long time.  In all honesty, I always do better when I'm busy. It's just in my nature.  Not saying I'm not lazy, I am, I love to lounge around, but mentally it does something to me.

It's not that circumstances have changed.  My physical circumstances are still the same.  Still doing this semi-single mom thing.  Still adjusting to weekends vs. weekdays.

What has changed? I have a whole list!  Remember how that menu planning helped me?  Well, that was step one. I also made a few other changes.

I moved family scripture and prayer time up.  We used to have it after the kids were all ready for school, just before they headed out the door.  No more.  It's first.  We stumble out of the bedrooms at 6:15 and read and kneel in prayer (another addition, we used to sit at the kitchen table, if we weren't reading as they rushed out the door). This little change has been HUGE! I notice we are happier with each other, we are kinder, there is less fighting.  It's made a huge difference. I've wanted to kneel in prayer for years in the morning and am happy I finally made it happen.

I made a list of 37 before 37.  This list has been immensely helpful.  It's helped me narrow down a few goals that are really important to me and also helped me think doing some fun things that I'm really looking forward to making happen. It's made me stick to a few goals that I had in the back of my mind, but hadn't been steady with.  Accomplishing those goals has been very rewarding and uplifting.

One of my 37 Before 37 is to read 5 gospel related books.  I often start them and then they fizzle out for me when my favorite fiction author comes out with a new book.  Having a goal of five has been perfect.  I listen to them on my iPad while I clean and I'm really enjoying it. I'm really excited to brush up on my church history.  I used to know so much and it has dwindled.

My prayers have been more heartfelt.  I listened to a lesson from President Gordon B. Hinckley in which he spoke about prayers and how to pray for our children.  To let them hear us pray for them.  His wife said he didn't often lecture, he taught through prayer.  I love that and have been incorporating that more effectively.

And Facebook. Facebook has been an issue for me for years.  On my mission I spent hours writing letters on P-day.  I love keeping up with people. I am a social butterfly but don't necessarily like to take my 5 kids out and about to social events (remember, Jonas is a runner). I miss my family and friends that live far away and enjoy their friendships online.  I am infinitely curious about the people I love and enjoy most of their posts.  I run a successful business off of Facebook.  However, it was sucking away my happiness. It no longer holds the fun and joy I once found in it. I never felt happier after being on there anymore. I've only had it on my phone for about six months, but that was long enough for me to realize how much hated it.  So it's gone.  And I don't miss it one bit.  Obviously I still hop on there on my computer to work and socialize a little, but not very often and not for very long.

There have been a few other things too, mostly related to my 37 before 37 list.  It's common knowledge that goal setting makes happier people.  I am living proof.  Especially when those goals are Christ centered.  Time and time again, it's the little things that make the big difference.

The Little Things

There's a scripture that I love.  It speaks of small and simple things bringing great things to pass. That hit home for me this week.

I hate to admit it, but I've been struggling.  With pretty much everything. You may know that Caleb now works in Covington, a couple of hours from here. He has an apartment there for the weekdays. The position is temporary so we decided it wasn't wise to pull our kids out of school mid-year for a position that could end at any time. It's been harder than I thought but not for the reasons I thought.

I was raised by a very capable, strong mom.  She was a single parent for a time and she had a heavy load on her shoulders.  She raised me to believe I was capable. I believe that and I know I am.  I was not too worried when this situation arose. I knew I could do it. And I can and I do.

However, I have cried more in the last couple of months than I think I've cried in the rest of my adult life all together. It's not the day to day. Those things are fine. I'm a chart and graph girl and have raised my kids to be as well.  Things are fairly well oiled over here. It's little added things, like broken cars, broken washing machines, breaking my toes and injuring my foot, not being able to pick up kids on time and having no hubby to save the day. Taking care of sick kids with no relief. It's wanting to run away when everyone is having a meltdown and yet not really wanting to call anyone for help.

It's getting on a good routine and then having Dad come home and throwing off that routine.  It's feeling guilty over getting annoyed when he's just trying to help.  It's learning to communicate in a different way when you don't see each other every day.  It's feeling guilty when you know there are others much worse off. It's adjusting to him leaving again.  It's watching your toddlers cry at the door when he leaves.  It's watching your older kids struggle and listening to them talk about how much they miss Dad. It's a lot.

My emotions have been up and down and up and down. The last year has been like that, but the last few months have been much worse.  

I was asked to teach a lesson on happiness. And it did remind me of all the things I have to be happy about and reminded me of ways to pull myself out of my funk.  Sometimes doing those things is hard. Very hard.  However, I've done it, I've pulled myself out....several times. Serving others always gets me out of a funk, but that's much harder to do right now.  I've had to find smaller, less noticeable ways. I've had to start thinking of the things I do for my own children as a service to a person, not just a responsibility. 

To finally pull it all back....small and simple things.  Want to know what helped me the most?  (Besides prayer, phone calls to family and friends, local friends, and an awesome hubby.) What I did personally?  Making a menu. Making.a.menu.  Seems very anti-climactic, doesn't it? Seriously though.  I've always been a menu mom, but had gotten lax in the onslaught of responsibilities.  I finally sat down, made a months menu, and felt myself push off layers of dirt weighing me down.

It made me think of this scripture.  The smallest of things helped me be happier, helped me feel a weight lifted.  When I feel happier, I am a better mom and wife.  When I feel less burdened, even with something as silly as just knowing what's for dinner. I am a better friend and person. I am more able to spend time with the Lord every day too. 

I guess my point is, when we feel down, maybe the key is to pray and analyze what will relieve the most stress, one small thing at a time.  And when we get the small stuff knocked out of the way, the great big stuff doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

(P.S. I want to add, I'm fine. There have been many blessings as well.  I feel like we are learning so much from this.  I'm proud of my husband, who helps so much when he is home.  I know his burden is heavy in a different way.  I did not write this to make others feel bad for me.  I wanted to offer a simple way to lift.  To help.)

Our Own Hero

Anyone, Anytime, Anywere. Words to live by when you are a Search and Rescue volunteer.

Fifteen years my dad spent as a Search and Rescue volunteer.  Fifteen years of stories I thought I'd only read in books.  Fifteen years of putting his life on the line to make sure others had loved ones returned or at least a little bit of closure. Many Christmas Eves, New Year's Eves, and most other holidays, he was called out, away from his family, to help other families. None of us resented it.  We have always been proud of his service.

The volunteers trained an average of 10 hours a month. They trained on an under water sonar boat, trained in back country first aide. He was scuba certified, a master diver.  One hundred seventy-five dives under his belt.

The scuba training helped them with seventy-five to eighty recoveries of drowning victims, there were only about three that they sadly never found.

They trained with life flight.  He jumped, in full scuba gear, from a helicopter.  First 10 ft, then 20 ft, then two jumps at 40 ft, at twenty knots forward. They also trained, and used in live action, 4 wheelers, horses, snowmobiles, and choppers.

One January he had 21 snowmobile call-outs. His team was called out to several avalanches where they dug people out.  He said that they often brought dogs out but were led to spots where they dug down 20 ft, and never found anyone. Generally they found people by probing in a pattern.

Almost every New Year's Eve, for many years, he was called out to help people on snowmobiles who were lost in the back country, often at 11,000-12,000 ft. elevation, 14 below 0, blizzard, no visibility. One time they found man alive, who had dug a hole under his snowmobile and fell asleep under there.

Another time two guys were lost on snowmobiles. Gone three days.  On the second day they found the snowmobiles. At the end of the third day the team used choppers (the weather had been too bad the first two days for choppers to fly) and spotted the men crawling on their hands and knees in 5 ft. of snow. The men said that they planned to die that night if not found.

When people were lost, stuck or had crashed in the mountains they found them alive only about sixty percent of the time. Oftentimes the freezing victims would take their clothes off, fold them up, and nicely set them somewhere.  Apparently when you are about to freeze to death you start to feel warm and euphoric, which results in such actions.

One guy they were searching for, left his snowmobile and started hiking back down his own trail, they found footprints in his tracks and followed them.  They found him with his shirt off and he started running from them. Dad and one of his teammates (John Provost) had to chase him down on their snowmobiles and bulldog him. He was almost frozen, drunk and delirious.

I remember a story in the early years of my Dad finding a drowning victim (a teen) and then having to face the family for a moment before the social workers dragged him away.  Telling them, in order to do their job, they had to detach themselves or it would break them.  It took a bit of time, I remember, for him to move on from that image.

One of His favorite memories is when an 18 wheeler went off the road in Provo Canyon, Utah into Deer Creek Reservoir with  seven hundred and fifty turkeys on board. They had to dive into the lake and hook up the cages and lift them out with a crane then hook and pull the truck out with the crane and two semi tow trucks. Seven hundred drowned. Fifty made it. It was pretty entertaining to watch on TV as well.

Another funny story was when his team found some snowmobile riders stranded in the mountains above their own cabin near Midway, Utah. They got them down, safe and sound, and dropped them off at their cabin. With all their gear on they never actually saw each other's faces. About two months later Dad, Mom and their friends, John and Paula Provost (John had been on the search also), went on a cruise. They decided to go to church in San Juan, Puerto Rico where they bumped into another two couples that had a story about getting stuck on their snowmobiles above their cabin near Midway, Utah. You can guess the rest of the story but they were also on the same cruise. What a small world.

I learned a little from his service too.  Find something that serves others and brings you a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.  Be willing to sacrifice your time and energy for others. Never swim in jeans. Ever. Many of the drowning victims were in jeans. When doing activities in the back country, don't go alone.  Always give someone back home an idea of where you'll be.  Follow guidelines and restrictions. Try not to leave your vehicle, they are easier to find than people.