Why Blog? Who has the time?

Why Blog? I've taken a couple weeks off of blogging and reading people's blogs as an experiment. Is my life better without blogging? Am I actually addicted to blogging? And why do I blog? I have some answers, though, not too many.

My first hypothesis was if I didn't read blogs I would actually read books again, which I haven't done much of this summer until now. (I thought not reading much in the last few months had a lot more to do with the constant chaos in my house, not my blog addiction.) I'm happy to report I'm currently on page 492 of Like a Fire is Burning by Gerald N. Lund. (Yes, I know I'm about 10-15 years late when compared to those who actually read and the The Work Glory series when they came out. Call me a late bloomer. Ok, so I have a new found interest in Church history.)

But...I've really missed reading blogs and I've been miserable. I think I'm addicted. I'm a long time food addict, who until the last several months thought I was on top of this only to realize I've been turning to food to help me feel better every day again. The results of that= most of my clothes don't fit. I also have an exercise addiction. I have to have more and more of it for it to keep having the same positive effects for me. Though, I prefer my exercise addiction over my food addiction, I'm afraid they probably feed each other a little.

Ross says, "Can it really be an addiciton if it's basically good for you?" I say it's the worst kind, and here's why. Even though something may be good for me, it may not be good for me in the amounts I do it.

I know should can be a bad word. I've been told by counselor types that I should on myself too often. But face it if I should be taking care of my children, or I should be reading my scriptures, or I should be cleaning my house but I keep finding things to distract me (like reading blogs) than I'm probably out of integrity with me and less happy than I would be if I was doing what I should.

Last night for example, my 5 year old flooded the bathroom because she was mad I put her in there for a time out. My response, have some ice cream. Don't feel better, yet? Have some more. (I've digressed.)

Here's the interesting thing. Even though I've taken a break from reading blogs and writing in mine I've been miserable. Taking a break from blogging hasn't helped me be more happy, anymore than taking a break from exercising does. Which brings me to my question of why blog?

I decided awhile back I want to inspire people to be their best selves. I felt like some of the things I posted here might help do that. More importantly, though, might be the good effect it has on me when I focus on the good things in my life and then highlight those things as I share. I'd forgotten that recently.

I think I'll get right back to blogging. (Maybe after I get caught up on my scripture study, and house cleaning. Or maybe once the kids are back in school. Oh, how that will be a happy day!)

Raging Waters is a Winner

Papa invited us to his work party at Raging Waters yesterday. What a Blast! Not realizing that this would make such good blog material I left the camera home, so there won't be any pictures. What a bummer. Now no one else gets to see how adorable or adventurous the kids were. I can attempt to tell you, but I have a feeling it's one of those things you'd have to experience to really understand. Suffice it to say, Collin declared it "His best day this year!" And the other 2 kids agreed.

I had a great time too, but I'm experiencing some loss--the loss of having little children. How can I really complain that having all the kids able to ride every ride is somehow bad? Haven't I waited 11 years not to have to sit in the kiddy pool while everyone else experienced the heart pounding adrenaline rush that I was missing? Why am I sad that my children are doing exactly what they ought to do--grow? I'm not really sad, I guess, maybe nostalgic is a better word.

When Breanne wanted to fly through the air and drop 100 feet I was the only one saying, "Are you sure?" Well, that's not totally true, Ross said the same thing. But after watching all of us do it, Breanne would not be denied. Didn't she understand the rest of us were scared silly as we carried our mat to the top of the slide?

I suppose it won't be the first time I watch my little girl climb confidently forward, while I sit anxiously on the side waiting for her safe return. If she's faces every challenge with such ease how could I really be sad? And if she is a little scared near the top of a challenge, I hope she'll continue to move forward, like she did yesterday, close her eyes when she needs to and then open them again right near the finish with the same kind of wide eyed wonder and awe. And when it's all over I hope I'm there to see every smile as her face beams with pride, and she says, "Let's do it again!"

I'm inspired by my children and grateful for the lessons that I learn as their mom. Much love and thanks go out to Papa for inviting us.

Busted! Connor Caught the Toothfairy

About ten minutes after I left a dollar under Connor's pillow last night, he came hobbling down the stairs. He had this sort of just woke up, angry, smiling look and he pointed his finger at me and said, "Mommy, you're the tooth fairy." I was so shocked and definately guilty I didn't say anything, because I didn't know what to say. Connor then made some statement about how his parents really lie to him, and Tyson was right this whole time.

He felt betrayed and I was caught. I hugged him for awhile. And tried to explain that we didn't really LIE to him as much as we just were playing a fun game with him. I hope he doesn't use that one on me, but I suppose I'll deserve it. Lucky for me Connor was more happy about catching me than he was angry. He agreed to stay in on the game for his little sister's sake. I was glad he's happy to play along, because this morning at scriptures he announced that the tooth fairy brought him a dollar.

We're Not Exactly an Ensign Picture--Yet!

I was inspired today in Sacrament meeting by our neighbor, Robbie Corniea, and his family. He's going on a mission next month to Pennsylvania and today he spoke to us in Sacrament meeting. The truth is I'm inspired by the Corneia's often. I think I've even told Marianne as I've walked by her house in the morning and all the kids are out in the yard doing yard work together, "You inspire me." It's true. I look to their example and think, "I can learn from this." I'm not kidding when I say, they at times, look like a picture from the Ensign. You can imagine, can't you, a Saomoan family working together in the yard.

I don't think I could get a picture of my family working together into the Ensign. You can just imagine it, can't you? Somebody is kicking someday while the other one hit 'em back. I'd be yelling in the background. The pictures in the Ensign of family prayer are funny to me too, only because I wouldn't know what to think if everyone actually kneeled in a circle, with their eyes closed. In the pictures, of course, everyone's hair is done and they have clean clothes on. That alone would be a feat.

I guess that's why I felt especially inspired by President Shorter's words at the end of sacrament meeting today. He said something to the effect of, "Keep having family prayer with your family, even if your children are poking each other and saying, 'He's poking me.' Collin even looked at me, surprised that Pres. Shorter would know so well how it is in our house and said, "He's definately talking about OUR family." I had to smile. Then Pres. Shorter said something like, "Continue to teach and love your children, and hold family home evening. It will be worth it. And someday they will thank you." I was inspired, by this, because even if my family doesn't look like a picture, there is STILL Hope.

Then I got an imagine in my mind of my family looking like something from a magazine. It's years from now when Collin is a grown-up boy, putting his arms around me, and saying, "Thank you, Mom." Even now it brings tears to my eyes. And I can imagine being a very proud mom and listening to him speak in Sacrament meeting about the things his parents have done that prepared him to serve a faithful mission, and I'm absolutely sure it will be worth it.

I know I risk getting preachy here but I'll share the scripture in Alma 26:12 that touched me in Sunday School giving me even more hope, "Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever." This vision of Collin saying "thank you to me" would pretty much be a miracle, that I'm starting to believe in, and I'm ready and willing to work at it with the Lord's help.

P.S. I'm adding this reminder (for myself) to acknowledge the hand of God in all things in my life. "Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men?" Alma 26:16
Thank you.

I am a Champion Donut Rider!

As far as my ego goes, I'm picking my races pretty well these days. Ross joined the Rotary Club not too long ago and ended up volunteering today (with the kids) for their fundraising event, the Tour de Donut. It's a 7 mile course done in 3 loops for a total of 21 miles. After the first 7 miles you eat as many donuts as you want, and for each one you keep down you get 3 minutes off your time.

I wasn't really sure I wanted to eat donuts between laps, so I just decided as I went along. Since my chain came off in the first few minutes after the start I was behind from the beginning. After the first 7 miles I opted for no donuts which helped me pass a lot of riders. The next time around I thought I'd try it. I'm all about experiencing new things and I figured eating a donut in the middle of a race was an experience worth trying.

It was a little harder than I thought it would be. Half a donut would have been fine but eating the last 1/2 became somewhat of a burden, and sticky. These were excellent Krisy Kreme donuts, but I just didn't enjoy it like I might have had I not been in such a hurry. I managed to ride pretty fast, at least fast enough to be the first woman across the finish line. Woohoo! My time was 58 minutes.

No cool prizes this time, just a trophy and bragging rights. They actually gave away 2 awards, one for the first one across the finish line, and another with the adjusted donut time subtracted. The first man across the finish line finished in 47 minutes, I think. The other girl who won with an adjusted time ate 3-5 donuts, I think, with an adjusted time of 48 minutes. The guy who won ate 25 donuts with an adjusted time of negative 3 mintues. Now that's impressive!

Ross and the kids get the award for best volunteers on the course and best cheering squad! Even though the kids didn't ride they did get some donuts at the end while we waited for awards. Collin-5, Connor-3, Breanne 3. Next year hopefully we'll all ride.

Envy, My Deadly Sin

Ok, so maybe it’s not competition that is bad. It’s ENVY.

So here I am deciding to focus on parenting my children and stop focusing on competing in triathlons, thinking maybe this will help me to stop measuring myself against others.
Ha! The measuring myself against others is still there no matter what I’m focusing on. And I find that I feel pretty crappy about the way I measure up.

We’ll take Courtney for example. She’s got 5 kids, and is now single parenting her children in my home for the last two months, while her husband visits on weekends. I’ve been in denial of the fact that I don’t measure up, but let’s face it she’s more patient, kind, loving, better organized, more compassionate…(shall I go on?) with her children than I am with mine. No wonder I was doing a race for every weekend the last 4 or 5 weeks? I was feeling pretty good about myself, comparatively.

When Courtney asked me if she could move in for a few months I laughed and said, “Ross would never go for that.” I was hoping he would say no for me because I wouldn’t. He being the supportive, loving husband that he is opened his home for my good and said, “The sooner the better.” Not wanting to be the bad guy, I tried to agree as readily as he did and here we are now some version of the Brady Bunch or an FLDS compound but not really either.

It’s becoming clear to me that jealousy must really be the most awful sin. I know because of the story Courtney told me when she got home from the park last night.

She came in at 7pm after a long day with five children (one who tests anyone’s energy because he’s 20 months old and into everything all the time). She seemed a little tired and then admitted to us that she had had an embarrassing “Luke moment” at the park. He was throwing a fit. I said, “Well, having a “Luke Moment’ isn’t embarrassing, depending on how you handled it.”

“Yea, I guess it was my reaction to his fit that was embarrassing.” And we chuckled a bit. I mentioned that yes, when I hear people being mean, or yelling at their kids whether at the store, or the park, or the neighbor’s house, it always seems like an ugly sound. And then I realize, “Oh, I sound like that sometimes. How terrible.” But a little part of me is a tiny glad, that I’m not the only one in the world making mistakes. Courtney said, “Yea, when I hear you yell at your children I don’t feel glad, it only makes me want to cry.” She’s one upped me again, she’s more compassionate than me too!

Maybe I’ll find a race to do this weekend.

We Deserve to Be Made Fun Of

Thanks Natalie, for showing me this blog. I laughed, got offended, and then laughed again. Truthfully I wish I could be that funny! Way to go anonymous blogger. We mormon bloggers deserve it.


http://seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com/

Swinging Back to Focus on Family

I swing back and forth from being selfish and really enjoying my life by racing on weekends (I've been in a race every weekend now for a month) to concentrating on my family and putting their needs first.

Today I shifted back to concentrating on my family's needs (if only for a moment, or month or two, hopefully forever.)

Awhile back I mentioned in a post that I'd seen some blessings come from the bulging disk in my back, and I promised that I would write on that someday. One of those blessings was increased time focusing on serving my kids and husband.

I remember specifically one weekend this Spring camping with my family and hiking around the lake thinking, "This back injury must really be a blessing, because as much as I wish I were on a bike ride right now (working to get faster) if I didn't have this injury I would be missing this time with my family." And I felt really grateful for my injury.

Learning to be grateful in all things hasn't come naturally for me, but sometimes all it takes is a little twist of perspective and then it's not too hard. Perhaps, I'm even grateful for Collin acting out in a way that alarmed both me and my husband enough to seek counseling today, (which has already been sooo helpful.) (Perhaps I've crossed the line intruding on his privacy by mentioning that on my blog,) but I'm getting a tiny more bold here.

We were talking about something completely different the other day when Carol C. spurred me on by saying, "Why don't you write about that on your blog, Jenn? That's the real stuff." And I think I specifically said something, like, "Because it's not an anonymous blog, Carol. I've got pictures of my whole family up there. Do you really I think I should divulge stuff?" Well, anyway. I haven't figured out how much to say in order to be authentic and also helpful to others and how much not to say in order to protect the privacy of my kids and other everyday encounters. (Actually what she wanted me to write was my feelings after the Bishop's talk in Jan. on modesty--which I may eventually have the guts to do--except that I'm in the RS Presidendy now, so we'll see. The real truth is I believe my bishop to be a truly inspired, loving, incredible man. It was just my feelings that were the problem. I'm sure someday I'll say more.)

But for now I'll just continue to muddle along not really knowing the best way to blog or to parent, what's new? Just doing what I hope is right and good. I guess that's all any of us do really. Don't you think? Plus, we all know when kids and parents get counseling it's really to help the parents--even though I'm so glad it's helping Collin. (Maybe we'll actually get through summer without anyone getting hurt, or more hurt.) If you ever need a family therapist I know several and wouldn't hesitate to recommend Darren Johanssen, Dr. Paul Jenkins, or Dr. Jason Adams--all incredible! And I'm listening to Dr. Randy Hyde's parenting CD which seems to be helping.

I'm really grateful for incredible people doing what they're really good at and blessing my life because of it. That's what I aspire to.

Is competion Good or Bad?

I've got something on my mind, and it's eating at me in ways that keep me from getting other things done. It's this question--is competition good or bad? You see one of my swimming parents (a parent of one of the kids I coach) made the comment to me, "I'm so glad my son is getting more competitive." And I'm thinking, "Really, is that a good thing?" What about all the negative effects of comparing, and negative self-worth, and crap that come from measuring yourself against others. "Do you really want to encourage kids to do that?"

I didn't actually say any of that. The truth is I'm very competitive. Duh, that's not a revelation to anyone who knows me.

I grew up competing. Not just in swimming but in everything. My parents raced each other in the seperate cars we took home from church. Everything was a competition. In elementary school I wanted to read faster, read more and do better at everything on the playground than all the other kids. In my mind, I pretty much did. Whether that's true or not, who knows, but I remember pretty vividly bringing my high point trophy from summer swimming to third grade show and tell, just because my best friend, Mary Meyer, brought her much smaller trophy for participation the time before. I'm not bragging about this now. I'm actually ashamed that I didn't know how to build my friend up or encourage her. After all these years I'd thought I'd learned better than that, but no.

I found myself having a conversation with Jen Lynsky this week where she admitted not wanting to race me in triathlon because she's so competitive. I laughed it off saying, "It won't hurt our friendship on my end as long as I always beat you." That comment alone probably already hurt our friendship.

After all these years I'd thought I had really progressed by teaching my swimmers to compare themselves only to themselves and their own best time. "It's not about anyone else." "It's about doing your best!" Blah, blah, blah. It's not that I don't believe my own words, because I do, it's just that I'm not living them that bothers me.

So what do you think? Is competition good or bad? Any thoughts?

Getting Faster

Over the last several years I've watched a few of my friends go from being non-swimmers or non-bikers, or non-runners to real athletes. The progression from my point view (and I've done this too) goes something like, "I want to lose some weight. I'll try running." to "I need a reason to keep exercising--I'll sign up for a race." then eventually "Now that I know I can race, I wonder how fast I can really go? How can I be faster?"

Of course everyone is different, and the goals and motivations for participating in adult athletics vary from person to person. I'm not discoutning the fact that it's just FUN. Why would I do anything else?

But somewhere along the way the desire to improve and somehow be faster than last time is one of the things that keeps us going.

Which brings me to today's post. Today I was faster on my bike than I've ever been before. This is only a tiny decieving because I'm not in any better shape yet, though I still hope to be someday. (Biking is where I have the least experience and the most room for improvement.)

Today I hit 44mph on my bike going down Suncrest. Ross wasn't exactly happy with me when I told him except that he's glad I came home safely. It was the first time I didn't ride my brake going downhill (and I actually pedaled a little). There's something very exhilirating about going down the mountian on my bike breaking the speed limit. Call me a rebel.