Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho...

This past week has been a crazy hectic blur.  It all started last Thursday.  Mike took the afternoon off of work to spend some time with the kids and I since I was expected to return back to work in February.  We were sitting around the kitchen eating when the phone rang.  Every time I have heard the long distance ring lately I have braced myself in anticipation that it might be Toyota calling me to tell me when my official 'return to work' date is.  You see, Mike is excited for me to return to work so we can finish paying off student loan debts and me, well not so much.  So as the phone rang I thought to myself 'of course, the one time Mike's actually home during the day Toyota will call so he can smile and rejoice in my misery.'  And wouldn't you know it, it was Toyota.  So Mike stood smiling in anticipation as I sat in complete juxtaposition of his mood crying and suffering through my phone conversation which ended in a promise to come in ready to start building cars on Monday.  Needless to say I had a few minutes of sheer panic thinking of the list of tasks that needed to be accomplished before Monday, but after a well needed hour of running I was able to clear my head enough to start counting the many blessings that having a job brings to our family.

We may have had a laundry list of tasks to complete in the few short days before I returned to work, but the most important detail had been cemented months before and for that I am so thankful.  We posted an ad for a nanny many months ago and easily found a woman who met each and every need our family had.  I work two shifts, a day shift which runs from 7-430 and then an 'afternoon' shift (put in quotations because I feel they use the term afternoon QUITE liberally) which runs from 5:45-3:15am.  So we needed someone who could be here pretty early, before Mike left for work, and stay pretty late, until Mike or I could get home, 5 days/week.  The kids have really enjoyed having her here with us and have played more board games and completed more puzzles in the past week than they have in the past year. 

I will however admit that the mommy in me had a really hard time letting someone else take over.  I started this week on the afternoon shift.  I would get to bed in the morning around 4am and usually sleep until about noon.  So for approximately 4 hours each day there was a mommy and a caregiver both present in the home.  I tried mostly to stay out of the picture so that the kids would have a chance to establish this new relationship in their little lives but I often found myself standing at the edge of the room listening intently as Noah teetered on the edge of completely losing it over a few issues.  At one point Noah thundered into my room as I was getting ready for work to proclaim that "Lisa won't give me a snack.  Can you come down and give me one?"  To which I had to reply "Noah when Lisa is here it is Lisa's rules that we follow." Which was met by a forceful "But you're the MOMMYYYYY!!"  followed by a little howling and a whole lot of wailing.  I struggled at first with what I've decided is my "But I am the Mommy" syndrome but as the days went on and I started to see the relationship developing between my children and their new weekly primary caregiver, I decided quickly that I needed to redefine the definition I had given to my role as a mother. 

I am realizing that my previous definition of motherhood; my role to always be there for every need so that they will visibly see how much I love them, to care for them the way I want them to care for their own families one day and to protect them from anything and everything bad in this world that I can possibly prevent, is giving way to a more refined and mature definition of what motherhood should evolve into offering.  My work-in-progress definition based on this next stage of our life seems to be taking on this new meaning:  Motherhood is becoming able to let them go just far enough for them to learn that love comes in other forms than family.  Motherhood is helping them realize, through the example of another, that devoting your life to caring for other people not out of a duty of family but a more eternal duty to humanity is an admirable and desirable quality.  And motherhood is helping them realize that life is big, the world is diverse and although I hope that the ultimate safe place for our children will always be our familial home, I want my children to know that there can be a secure trust built between two strangers.  That allowing my children the opportunity to build relationships in a safe atmosphere is so much a part of my motherly responsibility to their overall growth.  Although I am still struggling with the thought that I won't know every exact detail of my children's lives, that my house will sometimes be a little dirtier than I appreciate and that I more than likely will miss that first time Elias actually moves (yes that's right people, our 10.5 month old baby is still quite content to chill out in one spot on the floor while Abby and Noah serve his every need) I am in the beginning stages of realizing a greater potential for growth.  I am so blessed.  I have been blessed with a job that will help us to reach our future goals, blessed with a husband who is supportive both inside and outside of the home, blessed with children who are adaptable and happy, and blessed with a caregiver who is willing to provide love and care when circumstances are such that Mike and I can't.  These are the thoughts I conjure when I forget and begin to pity my new life.

This past week has been a lesson in adaptability, sleep management and letting go of the expectations of what life should be after a 14 month placement in the home.  Our family had a good start to our new life and I am praying that we will continue on the path that this week has established (fyi, any and all other prayers for success are graciously accepted and tremendously appreciated).

I am off for another week, this time on the day shift.  We hope you all have a wonderful and successful week.

Love from the Willmotts

Too good to pass up

Just a quick note.  This morning the kids were eating breakfast before we headed out to school, and Abby asked me a question.  Her question was: "Mommy, when people are rich they have lots of stuff, so can I tell people I'm rich because I have lots of family?"

All I could say was "You can tell everyone that Abby."

Absolutely we are rich.  Richer than I ever could have dreamed we would be.  And this is why:

Because of this...

And these...

And because of this...

And this...

And of course this...

Rich beyond my wildest dreams.  Life is beautiful and so wonderfully fulfilling when you're looking in all the right places.

Love from the Willmotts

Confessions

Well December was a kind of thoughtful month for me.  I spent some time digging deep (I hope nobody finds that funny) when I was deciding what to blog about.  And while it was fun and purifying, it made me emotionally tired.  I’m kind of done with being all introspective for a bit I think.  So this week I thought I would let you all in on a few confessions I have.  I think it’s so fun to read other people’s confessions because it gives me a chance to see how funny life is, how much the same we all are in such little insane ways.  So I put together a little list of some of the things that happen in my life on a regular basis that I find a little funny if not annoying.  I hope you enjoy reading this and I hope also that some of you might take the time to write down some of your own confessions.  It’s really fun to do and has really helped me to view the lighter side of life.

Confession #1

Sometimes I wear my pajama bottoms inside out because they always put the fuzzy part of the fabric on the outside:  What’s up with that eh?  It’s total false advertising too.  Picture this:  You’re browsing through a store, no real reason to be shopping.  So as a default you decide to buy pajamas (we all know nobody actually goes to the store intending to buy pjs.  They are totally ‘just happened’ purchases.)  You’re looking at all the neatly folded piles of pj bottoms checking out the colours, trying to mentally sort the 17 other pairs you have at home so you don’t buy the same colour you already have.  That would just be wasteful!  You find some really cute ones with penguins standing on icebergs.  Awww, and there are baby penguins JUMPING off the icebergs!  They are so cute and so perfect and you totally don’t have that colour of blue yet!  So if they are just as warm and cozy as the little penguins would suggest you will totally buy them and stay in tonight and watch a movie just so you can wear them!  So what do you do?  You take the pair off the top of that neatly folded pile and pet it softly at first to test the initial fuzziness.  Then maybe with a little more force next time, you really want these to be the ones.  Then of course if you’re shopping with your friend you do the whole “hey feel how soft these are”.  And she does.  So you’ve both pet and patted this neatly folded pair of pj bottoms and they are exactly everything you hoped they would be.  You’re ready to make your purchase!  Wonderful, except that you failed to do the one thing that would save you from your future pj drawer full of disappointment.  And that thing is to rip apart that neatly folded bundle of happy and stick your arm right inside those puppies to feel what your thighs are REALLY getting!  I don’t know about you, but if I have to shave my legs in order to comfortably enjoy a pair of ‘comfort pants’ I am so over that relationship. 

If they really wanted people to know what they were actually getting they would fold those suckers inside-out and let the truth speak loud and clear. But they don’t.  They fold them into this rubik’s cube of fluffy comfort so you have no CHANCE on earth of actually finding out what you’re buying before you sit down that night all scratchy-thighed and full of buyer’s remorse.

I am going to start a pajama company called “Happy Thighs” where all of my products will be intended to be worn inside-out and that will be cool, and normal and so comfortable.  And now that I’ve posted this, if anyone of you steal this business idea I will sue you.  You’ve been warned.

Confession #2

Sometimes I’m thankful I go to church for the simple fact that I would not have worn real clothes or put on actual makeup all week if not for Sunday. 

One week back when Elias was in his first few months, (I think it was a Wednesday) I was blow-drying my hair in the morning and Abigail stormed into our room all huffy with her arms crossed and her face all screwed up.  I turned off the blow-drier to ask what was wrong.  I was expecting the usual “Noah hit me” or “Noah won’t share the couch”.  But instead I got a “NO FAIR.  I wanted to watch Spongebob today!”  I was totally confused and unable to connect the dots on this one, so I said “Ookaaayyy, and why can’t you?”  To which Abby replied “Because we have to go to church!”  Then I said, “No honey it’s Wednesday, we don’t go to church today”.  Her face immediately morphed into a surprised happiness as she then flippantly asked “Then why are you blow-drying your hair?”  That was when I first realized my problem.  It’s probably been 5 months since the incident and I’m a little ashamed to admit that I haven’t taken many steps towards a solution.  Yeah, some weeks are better than others, but as a whole I’m averaging probably 3 out of 7 on a good week.  And it’s not for lack of trying,  But after a night of waking up 3 times for 3 different late-night emergencies, 6am comes way too fast and if I miss it, even by an hour, the day is here and there are mouths to feed and yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.  Yeah these are excuses.  I’m a bum and I know it.  But let me tell you, if you go all week without makeup, when Sunday rolls around, you sure feel fancy.  So balk if you want, but I’m grateful for all the blessings of the gospel and it just so happens that feeling fancy turns out to be one very satisfying one!

Confession #3

I am aware of and recognize the clever marketing ploys of our world, but still find myself extremely influenced towards their purpose.

I will explain this confession with two specific examples.  I remember very distinctly how offended my senses used to be by the word spandex.  Do you remember when spandex used to be what middle-aged women wore as they unnaturally swung their hips back and forth, power-walking their way down ‘suburbian’ sidewalks with those dumb little 1.5 lbs hand weights in tow?  Spandex used to be fluorescently accented with greens and pinks and sometimes a zipper.  I used to swear up and down that I would never, ever wear spandex.  And after I was old enough to voice my opinion on wearing pre-pubescent matching legging/oversized t-shirt combos from Northern Getaway, I never again did… That was until someone, somewhere in ‘Advertismentopia’ started magically calling spandex ‘yoga wear’.  That was when I was like, “hey, yah I totally want to look like I do yoga!  Yoga is so cool!  I could totally do yoga, I should buy the pants.”  (And for the record, I tried it and I totally CAN’T do yoga).  So I went out, and bought a pair of ‘yoga pants’.  And somewhere in the back of my brain, the spandex center was wildly blasting a warning siren.  But all I did was half acknowledge that I actually owned a pair of spandex pants, and then I turned my thoughts to yoga.  So here I am as 25 year old me, owning various pairs of spandex pants and I’m totally ok with it now because I’m not calling it spandex anymore and neither are you.

Part two of this particular confession came to fruition on that magical day when Coca-Cola® took their famous Diet Coke® product and repackaged, reinvented and remarketed it as Coke Zero®.  Those geniuses in the marketing divisions at Coca-Cola® headquarters took the exact product they already possessed and targeted the ‘zero-calorie’ wave that was sweeping its way across the continent.  They fancied up the can, changed the name and captured a whole slew of faithful new customers without even having to come up with a new product.  So smart on their part, so dumb (as a general consumer population) on ours. And I totally knew what they were doing.  I realized exactly what was happening but still found myself asking at the drive-thru window if they carried Coke Zero® or just Diet Coke®.  How ridiculous am I?  I am sort of ashamed to admit that I am so knowingly influenced but at the same time I am totally ok with it as long as I’m sitting comfortably in my yoga pants with a Coke Zero® in hand.

Confession #4

I watch The Suite Life of Zack and Cody and/or The Suite Life: On Deck even though a) my children are too young to watch it, and b) I am too old to watch it.

There’s something about that pesky little Zack and his all too responsible brother Cody that I just can’t get enough of.  It really is a magnificent show.  And you know what?  If London were a real person, I would so want to be her friend.  She is funny.  And as I write this I am realizing how horrible a confession this truly is.  I may not be proud of it, but given the choice I would undoubtedly choose to watch The Suite Life over any medical drama out there.

Ok there you go.  That’s enough for today.  I have confessed a few of the idiosyncrasies in my life.  I’m sure I’m not alone on these.  But on the off chance that I am and you think I’m weird, I would just like to point out that I also pay my taxes (well Mike pays them), I take my daughter to school and eat three square meals a day.  I am actually normal I swear.  Well except maybe for the Suite Life thing.

Ciao for now!

Love from the Willmotts

Christmas, New Years and life threatening illness…

It seems so long ago that we actually sat around the Christmas tree with our families and celebrated the birth of Jesus, but that’s probably because we have spent the past week holed up in our home sicker than sick.  It seems as though everyone I talk to is sick right now, but I still maintain that our sick is SO MUCH sicker than your sick!!  Lol!!!  But really it feels like this sickness that is going through our family literally feeds and fuels itself off of each other’s attempts to regain any sort of health.  Abby started with it and she is on day 6 of fevers, chills, headaches and flu/cold like symptoms.  Every time I think she’s rounding the bend towards recovery she takes another hard fall back to a spike in fever and major loss of appetite.  I feel so bad for her!  Noah has it, Elias just got it yesterday, Mike has been sick for the past few days and I haven’t been sick like this since I was pregnant with Elias.  This is a BRUTAL sickness.  I guess I will add this past week to the ‘pro’ side of that list I mentally compile each year when I consider, then neglect to opt for the ‘flu shot’ that’s all the rave these days.

But on a more positive note, our Christmas was a wonderfully busy and eventful few days of celebration!  We spent Christmas eve and Christmas morning at our house with my family.  Christmas eve was a mess of my mom’s famous ‘pre-cursor to the event’ gift opening for the kids (Christmas Eve pjs to wear, a new Night Before Christmas book to read before bed and a super cute plate and mug for Santa’s late night snack), ushering our unwilling children into restless slumber, a rousing game of charades (our team won), and then a 2 hour ordeal of Mike and my Dad piecing together a massive train set while the girls watched season 6 of Reba.

The Train Set (It makes noises... oh yeah)

Merry Christmas!!!

We ended up in bed just after midnight only to be woken at 4:30am by the light ‘tap-tap-tap’ of an eager, yet patient 5 year old and her mightily impatient 3 year old sidekick.  I sent them back down to their room which held strong for about 15 minutes.  They were then invited into our hugely accommodating queen size bed to rest for a while and after 15 more minutes of being kneed and elbowed where no man should ever be kneed or elbowed, Mike resigned to failure and at 5:15 am he joined in all the excitement with a “well I guess we might as well see what Santa brought”.  So 5:15am we were up.  And by 6:00am Noah had succumbed to a full out melt down and was back in bed fast asleep.  Haha oh Noah.

Noah starting to lose it as Mike was reading the story of Jesus' birth!

Stockings!!!

My parents and Shawna and Kirsten came back over at 8am and we opened a mountain of gifts for the children which were all so wonderfully thoughtful and extremely well received!  We ate soufflé, bacon, toast and the Willmott family Christmas morning favourite “Cheese Dreams” (naming rights may actually be reserved to the Wright family, I’d have to check into it further) and had a really comfortable Christmas morning amongst all the chaos and carnage of Christmas past.  Elias had a beautiful first Christmas morning.  It was really fun to see him tearing at and later trying to eat the wrapping paper.  He’s the oldest any of our babies have been at their first Christmas and it was really a joy to watch him engage in the whole atmosphere.  It doesn’t take all the magic of Christmas to point out how amazingly blessed Mike and I are, but it sure helps to make it hard to forget!!

Andrew and Kirsten... What?! you can't see him??

Elias in his monster sweatshirt!!! 

Yahhhh Kung ZHU!!

A lotta Barbie!!

Just before noon we packed up as little as possible (we made sure we had each child but that was about all we really had room in our minds to ensure) and headed for Mike’s parent’s house.  We needed to make it there by 1pm so we had enough time to get everyone inside and settled for the 1:30pm date the Willmott household had with a certain missionary!  That’s right, Elder Willmott was calling home at 1:30pm to wish his anxious family a Merry Christmas.  Now I have never been present when a family has been in waiting for a call from a son/daughter on a mission, but I’m sure that if I ever get the chance to be around again when it happens I will jump at that opportunity.  It was such a beautiful thing to visibly see the anticipation and love each member of the family has for Elder Willmott.  I watched as a mother worried and fussed around a kitchen just to stay busy until she could hear the voice of her youngest son for the first time in four months.  I watched as a father milled from room to room studying the faces of each member of his family, concerning himself with the proper placement of his scriptures.  That gesture, in that instance symbolized strongly to me the link between the careful placement of the gospel in your home, to ensure the righteous success of your children.  I watched as a brother was unable to hide his smile knowing that soon he would spend a few minutes gaining insight into the intensely different life of a man he had grown through so much with.  And I watched as sisters who had been outwardly joyous about their chance to speak to their brother all week, fixed their hair, changed their clothes and prepared themselves physically the way any girl does when she’s about to participate an anticipated event.  It was so fun to watch everyone take their turn talking to Elder Willmott, laughing listening and immediately crying once they said goodbye.  Until this Christmas day, I had never understood the joy that hid in the stories people told about talking to their missionaries on their ‘phone home days’.  As much as I was grateful for my chance to speak with Elder Willmott myself, I was even more thankful to watch him touch the hearts of his family from across the country as he spoke to each of his biggest fans.  Missionary work is so beautiful in very obvious ways and absolutely breathtaking in ways I never could have imagined.  I am so grateful for Elder Andrew Willmott and the influence he is to those he serves, but so unexpectedly grateful for the influence his example has been right here in our lives. 

We had such an amazing Christmas.  It was a great first for Elias, third for Noah, fifth for Abby, 25^th for me and 27^th for Mike.  That’s 41 different potential Christmas memories between all of us and I definitely will put this one down as #1 on my list.  Christmas eve and Christmas day were amazing days because we were surrounded by our families but unmistakably because we were surrounded by the Spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ.  I sincerely hope that you all had the Spirit in your heart and your homes as you celebrated Christmas this year! 

Abby and Noah pointing to the leftover piece of 'Tim Horton's Donut' Abby insisted Santa
would appreciate more than cookies!!  They split the last bite... sickos!!!

How much did you loves these as a kid??!?!

New Years Eve:

Not much to report on this front.  We were sick as an emergency room.  I changed the clocks from 6:20pm to 11:40pm while Mike created a diversion since Abby conveniently chose last week to start learning how to tell time.  We YouTubed a countdown, enthusiastically wore hats, glow necklaces and bracelets and suffered through a lousy internet connection as we bumped and jumped our way down the count down, ensuring our kids every time YouTube struggled to load the next number that we were just ‘waiting for all those people in the world to catch up to us’.  Once we hit ‘1’ we yelled and air kissed our nasty, germy “HAPPY NEW YEAR” then quickly shuffled our sickies off to bed.  I was asleep by 8pm and Mike by 10pm.  We are that cool.  So at 3 days past the mark of a new year, I can sit without falling over for long enough to type out a meager HAPPY NEW YEAR to y’all!!

Sorry I have been lacking in posts lately.  I will resume my ‘Sunday strategy’ next week.  Again I wish you all a Happy New Year and hope nothing but the best for you and your families in 2011. 

Love and Joy, Peace and Happiness!

Love from the Willmotts