Extraordinary Women

There was a casting call recently asking for videos talking about "extraordinary women" that we know.

I saw it, and didn't think about it too much until later.

One of the many delightful fringe benefits of being a woman is that you sometimes (more frequently as you age) wake up at three or four in the morning and can't go back to sleep.  This happened  to me that next morning and while I tossed and turned I realized that I wanted to submit a video, even though I knew it wasn't exactly what they were looking for.

My video would be about every "ordinary" woman I know.

The woman who, to the world is nothing, but to those in her immediate circle of family and friends is EVERYTHING.

                                               my mom (and dad. He's pretty great, too.)


Consider the woman who has found a way, often on a strict budget, to provide three meals a day for multiple people year in and year out for more than half of her life, just as a matter of course. And even after her kids are grown, and she has already provided around 17,000 meals for just one kid alone, she continues to make Sunday dinner once a week so that her home can be a gathering place.  A place of love.

Or the woman who has real, genuine rejoicing when her son actually lifts the lid, and aims without any over spray or dripping. (ha. ha. J/K  That one has never really happened.)

Or the woman who carries a prayer in her heart for that child that desperately needs just one good friend to see them through adolescence. Sometimes to realize that she may be it.

Or the woman who has a smile for her family and friends when inside she is despairing.

And is not every "single mom" extraordinary?  It makes me cry to think of these women and the absolute angels that they are, and the angels that must be supporting them in their day to day lives without a husband to listen to them and bear them up.

And women who deal with an overwhelming hormone cycle EVERY MONTH and continue to get out of bed and press forward as though it is the most normal thing in the world. (okay, it is. I'll give you that. But still.....)

I know women who have spent endless hours caring for very sick parents and children without a second thought, I know women who are in abusive relationships, I know women who were abused as young girls, I know women who suffer with mental illness, I know single moms, I know women who suffer terribly with health issues, including breast cancer and mastectomy, thyroid cancer, other cancers, lupus, PCOS, MS, epilepsy, and more. I know women who desperately yearn to be mothers, and live through the roller coaster of infertility issues that is absolute hell.  I know women whose kids have forsaken the beliefs that they hold most dear.  I know women who have never known the joy and companionship of marriage.  I know women whose mothers did not nurture them.  I know women whose children are addicted to pornography or drugs. I know women whose husbands have gone stark raving mad and left them with multiple children. I know women who have watched their parents slowly and cruelly fade away to the effects of Dementia or Alzheimers.  I know women who have struggled with eating disorders and body image. I know women who suffer from anxiety and depression. I know women who have kids with special needs who go to extraordinary measures to help them have "normal", happy lives. I know women who suffer regularly with self doubt. I know women who have sent husbands to war.

This list represents my 45 years and the women that have filled them. You have a list too. The miracle is that you would never guess these things about these women. They are nurturers, they are dear friends, they are PTA helpers, they serve in the community, they pray for others and write letters of encouragement, they make meals for their families, and families in need. These women get out of bed and go to work every day and are creative and productive and beautiful and fun. They find creative ways to make beauty and magic and memories within the walls of their own homes. They have taught my kids. I have laughed with every one of these women.  They have made my life better and brighter in real ways. They have helped me cook dinner, they have loved my kids, they have taught me to be more disciplined and work harder. They have introduced me to art and music and books that I didn't know existed. They have overlooked my faults.We have commiserated about our latest coping strategies, our kids, our favorite books, and what the bleep we are going to make for dinner. We have walked and talked and eaten and loved each other and those in our circles of influence.  We have cried.

But we have laughed more.

To me, these women are extraordinary!
To me, and the other people with whom they share this experience we call life, they are EVERYTHING.

Our Family Motto

      I'm not sure which giant fail inspired our family motto, but I do remember picturing in my mind the large vinyl script on the wall in our entryway, and knowing that it described our family perfectly!

It would look something like this:

  The Stinger Family:
 A day late and a dollar short

I'm not a detail person, and luckily I married my polar opposite, or there truly would be no hope.  But even with Kevin by my side, we screw up quite regularly. Here are just a few off the top of my head.  I have blocked others out of my mind as a coping skill.

 -We called to sign Keaton up for basketball this year, only to find out that the season was already started.

-We were the last ones to pay our ref fees, after having to be reminded about a billion times.

-We are about 50% on elementary school homework.

-We work really really hard on an audition, or student gov. campaign, or our sport, and still don't make the cut. (we are talking some heartbreaking disappointments, here)

-Missed practices and school days for multiple reasons. (For instance, keeping one kid out of school to babysit the others while I am on set or busy with something, only to realize it was the class swim party or Lagoon field trip for that kid)

-We go into debt at Christmas every year, despite our best intentions.

-We don't eat dinner as a family as much as we should.

-We completely forgot about a piano recital.

-We barely volunteer in the community and at school.

-It took Kenzie three tries to get into BYU, mostly due to our lack of help.  The first two applications were sent in at midnight on the deadline.

-There have been many midnight deadlines barely made or missed.

-Can't even talk about boy scouts. (anxiety rising just saying it.)

-Feeling like I generally keep a clean house, but realizing that pretty much every time someone stops by, it is a cluttered mess.

-Knowing that we live by winging it and improvising a lot of the time which equals to "too little, too late" too much of the time.

-I backed into three people and clipped another car within a years time

-I couldn't figure out why Kalvin's preschool teachers kept saying he needed to learn his birthday until he came home on Kenzie's birthday with a crown on, and I realized I had put the wrong day on his registration form.

-Being buried in laundry

-Going to bed at night and realizing I didn't listen.

-Forgetting soccer treat when it was our turn and digging money out of the car so we could pay each kid a dollar for compensation.

-Standing in the doctors office with Kimball excited to find out what we were having, and seeing that perfect little baby lying so still with no heartbeat.

$75.00 parking fees plus another $40.00 for parking in the fire zone at Davis High by a certain child.

The list goes on, and my chest is starting to get tight with anxiety, so I will stop.  

It is not realistic to document our family without pointing out that we often feel like we are spread too thin, that we are failing our kids in multiple ways, that sometimes we barely get along, that we spend too much money and over commit ourselves, that we have had some bitter disappointments.

I ran across this calendar from a week last fall.  I had taken a pic of it and sent it to Kevin because we hadn't communicated in a couple days for whatever reason.









I look at this and realize that sometimes all of these deadlines are what force me to get out of bed on those days when I wishI could climb under a rock and disappear.
And it makes me grateful that we have daily drudgery to keep us moving because that is sometimes all we can do.
Keep moving.

But I also look over our photos and videos and my journal and the documentation of our lives, and the disappointments and stress and ugly days seem to fade, and what I see is more joy, more beauty, and more happiness than I could have ever imagined or deserved.

A few highlights from 2015....
These are my people, and my life.

rock hounding

with our friends on the 4th

Mother's Day

Homework help

St. Patrick's Bingo

Koleman making a wax mold of his hand

As you can tell, I had a hard time choosing.  I read something recently from a man who lost his daughter.  He said that we can't control a lot of things in life, like the weather, politics, the economy, health issues, deaths.  But what we can control is moments. 

These photos are just a drop in the bucket of all of the good things in my life.  I have a thousand other posts in my mind I could write about friends, family, and everyday moments that shape our family, and that shape me as a human trying to manage life the best I can according to my own personality and weaknesses and strengths.

I am "A day late, and a dollar short" too often. But on those days when I am grieving my stupidity, mistakes, failures, shortcomings, and disappointments, photos like these help me remember that (as my friend Emily likes to say), "this is not the new reality". When I stand back and look at the big picture, I realize that somehow we have managed to make a good and happy life for ourselves, and I feel very very blessed.

Sundays

Do you ever feel like you need another Saturday?
-One to spend driving over hill and dale to sporting events, or family hikes or bike rides, or the nursery. The running errands and being out and about kind of Saturday.
-And another to actually get something done around the house and yard. The list goes on forever, right?

I sometimes am so overwhelmed by the list, and underwhelmed by our actual productivity as Saturday evening rolls around, that I feel a hint of resentment and maybe even dread about "keeping the Sabbath day holy."

Sundays are hard in a lot of ways.
Often husbands are gone doing church work or service almost the entire day
And getting kids showered and dressed for church (while simultaneously prepping for a family meal that will happen after church) is a feat which if we are being realistic, does not occur without a little (or a lot of) yelling
And often there is a lesson or a talk or music or something to prepare for church
And dressing up
And the once a month 24 hour fast
And the great silent wrestling match that is sitting on a bench with your kids for an hour and ten minutes  (with two hours of church still to go)

But

Usually by the end of Sunday my attitude about the Sabbath has improved. It is easier to see the wisdom in having a day set apart from the rest.  My best memories with my siblings are of Sunday afternoons. My kids are gonna kill me for posting this little gem, but it is a glimpse into our lives which is the point of this blog:

sadly Kaleb was not home. He had an extra church meeting. You can hear Kenzie in the background. :)

Sunday is that day where things of eternal consequence more easily occur.
We are together as a family
We are learning discipline
Fast Sunday teaches us that we have power over our physical bodies and desires
We assess our character and feel inspired to be better
We take the sacrament, promising to try to be more like Christ
We take time to write in journals or read family history - connecting generations
We have family dinner
We have cousin time

We are spread so thin and have so many  opportunities during the week that with just another Saturday, I don't think we would do these things.  During the week we are rarely all together. Even Family Home Evening on Monday nights is sometimes hard to orchestrate with a bunch of teenagers.  And scripture study at our house usually occurs between 10:00 and 11:00 p.m. So let's just say it is not the most lively of events in our lives. (much eye rolling and whining - even by me)

We have heard the phrase "The Sabbath A Delight" a lot over the past year in our church.  And I won't lie, I have rolled my eyes at the thought a couple of times.  But when it comes down to it, our family is happier, closer, and better because of the opportunity to have a holy day once a week. I am grateful for it.

Story Time at Our House

Kenzie leaves for college in a few short weeks, it is really hitting me that what we have is temporary, and that we are facing the end of an era.  
I have determined to document our lives now and throughout the summer before it is too late to capture it. This is us. Starting with today....

You know how your child gets a smile on his face when you sit down to read with him?

                                                                                          Nothing says "good parenting" like a mother/child reading moment

Kenyon loves reading time, and today he pulled out the books we made him for his birthday this year. We all made at least one, and even a couple of cousins and Aunts, and Grandma made one.

We bonded, we laughed, and I actually made it through three or four of them before the inevitable happened.  And here, my friends, is the real reason that toddlers and pre-schoolers smile about story time.  

It is an instant adult tranquilizer.

When you see a photo of a mother or father reading with a child, just know that for the next twenty minutes to an hour, that child had free reign of the house. 

And it doesn't matter what time of day or night.  I have come home from book club to find the youngest member of the family wandering freely at 10:30 or 11:00 pm because Kevin attempted to put him to bed by reading stories.

At around 10:30 a.m. today I woke up on the couch after above mentioned sedation to find the following on my phone. Written and sent to my 16 year old son's soccer coach.

Needless to say, I quickly sent a text assuring him that I don't do drugs.