My child's telling perception of me

So after my inspiring post on goal setting, McKye made sure I didn't get too impressed with myself...

We were playing with a little magnet house set (well McKye was playing while I tried to convince him I was watching, while I chatted on the phone).

He was putting everything where it went: cookies in the oven, baby in the cradle. 

Then he it picked up the "mommy" and you'll never guess  

guess where she "belongs"...

Yup, laying on the couch. Musta been a rough day. 

Is this really what my child thinks I do all day???

So I say, "try again." 

Wondering where else this little blonde version of me will go.

Okay I admit this one is a little more accurate...

So there you have it folks. 

Somehow, even though I clean the whole house, do laundry for five, and keep those same five people feed, try to serve and teach and in general keep up with all the "suppose to"s of mommyhood, in my two year old's mind, I lay on the couch and play on the computer.

Well, if there'd been a little magnetic phone it probably would have been to my ear too. 

Oh well.

Looks like he's still a pretty happy kid, despite his lazy mom:)

Goals...the never-ending saga

Goals. They use to seem more straight forward.

As I became a wife and mother 1) my goals seemed to be focused on other people and their agency can just get in the way  and 2) many times my goals end up taking the form of of a schedule (ie need to read my scriptures, at such and such time, need to exercise this many minutes a day) and while we have some semblance of a home routine, interruptions and the unexpected seem to dominate.

So, how have a adjusted? 1)I've had to remember that I can only change/improve me and that that is enough (ie I can't always look to others behaviors, my kids or husband being better, I can only plan and prepare MY reactions and attitudes...guess what? It makes all the difference. I always laugh because I can have great days were I just love Benny to bits, and days were everything annoys me, and at the end of both, when I look back, he did everything the same! 2) while scheduling is important, scripture first, routines for prayers, I needed to have some simple goals that focused me, rather than long lists of all the things I wanted to improve (that can just get depressing).

I found myself thinking back to my mission a lot (the time a learned about setting goals, especially the potentially frustrating kinds that deal with helping others make good choices.)

So I got out the old Preach My Gospel and read this section: How do I use my time wisely?
(Missionary service correlates so nicely with motherhood...just love my little investigators!)

Some littel tidbits:

"You are assigned to do the Lord's work in a specific area [My family!]
"Meaningful goals and careful planning will help you accomplish what the Lord requires of you."
"The Lord will help you...in fulfilling this sacred assignment"
" Goals reflect the desire of our hearts, and our vision of what we can accomplish."
"Through goals and plans, our hopes are transformed into action."

"Carefully considered goals will give you clear direction and will help you fill your days with activities that help [your family] strengthen their faith in the Savior and progress towards...full activity in the Church. Challenging goals will help you work effectively and lead you to stretch and grow." (ha ha made me think of stretch marks!)


Okay PS, we're so luck y to have such great resources, the manuals of the church are just jam-packed with true principles, set forth so clearly to help us govern our lives, rooted to truth.

One of the suggested activities, was to list all your activities for the last three days, and then evaluate each and decide if it influenced "key indicators" (basically things that help those your teaching come closer to Christ and take necessary steps to receiving his gospel..again insert little sippy-cup-guzzling- investigators). Then you were to consider activities "you may need to stop doing".

It was an interesting exercise--unfortunately I couldn't cross laundry off my list, drat!

The very first step in setting goals, of course, is follow the Spirit.


Something the Spirit led me to do a few years ago, pretty sure it was at New Year's (classic goal setting time), was to simply think of a verb for each of my family members, just one word, that would be my focus for that relationship that year. I prayed to know the right word, and some came easy and others took more thought. Each year it is interesting to see how the verbs develop and change with our situations. For example, I think the first year I did it  I got "Be kind to Ben". He was finishing up school, a brand new father, it was a time decisions and probably a lot of doubt and trepidation about becoming a provider not just for a wife but our family. The next year, he had his first "real" job and the word I got was "Support". which is what I did all year, as he carved out a place for himself, putting in long hours and facing tons of stress. This last year though, there was another shift. Three kids, a bit more established at work,  and the Spirit whisper "Involve Ben", help him see how to not just provide for us but be a part of his kids lives.

Sometimes I think I know what my word should be. The first year I got "Accept Aaron", which was a  wonderful (and necessary) first step. The next year, as we got more into his therapies and interventions I got "Believe in Aaron". He made some huge and incredible progress that year. This year, my instinct was to say okay, this year is when we really buckle down and expect a lot of him-- I wanted a word like "push" or "challenge"....what the Spirit whispered so sweet and clear, "Protect him".   I've had to make a lot of decisions about things this year, and that admonition to protect him has guided me in so many ways.

McKye. The first year I just go to Cherish him, to marvel at the way language and other social skills, so hard for his big brother, came so easy to him in their natural, miraculous way,so often taken for granted. That didn't last long. his abilities led to my being told to "Teach McKye", and so began watch seemed like a sprint to expose him to just as much as his little sponge of a toddler brain could absorb  This year I got "Watch McKye", to pull back and instead of trying to teach him, let him teach me. Just watch him discover and interact with his world. I laugh, because if I ever started to forget my word for McKye, it wouldn't take long for him to remind me: he's always calling out "Watch! Mommy! Watch!"

Levi's easy. "Love Levi". Which right now, in all his chubby-baby-glory, with his instant-gummy smiles and  bright flirty eyes...how could I do anything but love him?

The hardest one to come up with (and I didn't even think to do one at first) is the word for me. the first year I was pondering, and I had the thought, well what's Heavenly Father's word for me? "Treasure". 
The next year though I got "Discipline yourself". This year took a long time.I thought maybe I was suppose to "forget myself".

I'm just suppose to "Be myself".
Which is the essence of all goals ...becoming.
I'm a wife and a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. But I'm also just me. And it's good to remember that. That my goals aren't always about becoming something else, but who Heavenly Father knows I truly am, the best me, my potential. And after all that's my only real goal, the underlying desire in all my other little goals: to become like Him.

I'm so grateful He's willing to help me and whisper to me along the way.


Great talk on doing and becoming:
I know I've linked to this before but I just LOVE this talk!

my baby is half a decade

This morning I was deciding to re-schedule Aaron's birthday party (silly me thinking the end of June would have nice weather) a bit flustered, getting wrapped up in cupcakes, and balloons, when Aaron walked in and said "uhhhh-paaa" (one of his first spontaneous words). I picked up my big boy and like he often does he brought me back to what's really important. "Happy Birthday Aaron" I whispered in his ear. He gave me a kiss as I looked at the clock. Just after nine, the same time he was born.


Five years ago.


Right now, while everyone else naps, Aaron is eating a raw hot dog, twirling. Getting dizzy.
Giggling at the sensation. Grabbing a quick squeeze (you've never been hugged til you've been hugged by my handsome and his raw hot dog scent..the juxtaposition of  awwwww and gag is truly unique).


Unique. My eldest. My baby. It is not a greater love (McKye and Levi hold equally impossibly, indescribable places in my ever-expanding mother heart) but it is its own unique love.


He was my first. The first tenant of my womb. The first to kick its walls, the beginning of my new life of children's various and constant clammerings--beginning with embryonic nudges swelling to full on "mommy!"s "now!"s and "me!"s.


The first squishy human to hold my heart.


I wish I'd started this blog five years ago, so all the emotions and experiences would be fresh. But now I just have to be content backtracking and remembering. My apologies to those who already know "my  tales".


The summer Aaron was born we lived in Memphis, Tenessee. Well, I did until a month before I was due, when me and my swollen belly waddled onto a plan back to Canada "land of the free[healthcare]" where i waited. Walked and waited and sweat. Everyone asked me how I survived Memphis' heat?
The answer: air-conditioning!!!  Which Canada so often lacks. So I sat in front of fans, waiting.


In the end my waiting was cut short, by a week. The problem with having your husband in a different country when you're pregnant is that babies don't like schedules.


So me, my mother-in-law, my sister-in-law Alli and her friend Caroline (apparently the more the merrier when yo have a "girl power" birth) were off to the hospital.


I have learned that all women love to tell their labor stories (its like a compulsion written in our DNA) and if one women starts, every female in the room follows, like we simply can't help ourselves.


So I'll skip to the good part. They handed me my son. My perfect son. (The nurses actually pointed out to the student nurses to take note of his perfectly shaped head,that they would be rare.)

Perfection is a strong word, but it is accurate.
A perfect moment. A flawless, uncomplicated bond. A relationship not yet tainted by anything lesser than love itself.


I recently read a passage that made my mind wander back to that moment:

"Your son, " she said. 

"My son, " I answered, dumbfounded, taking him in my arms.  

Just as there is no warning for childbirth, there is no preparation for the sight of a first child. I studied his face, fingers, the folds in his boneless little legs, the whorls of his ears the tiny nipples on his chest. I held my breath as he sighed, laughed when he yawned, wondered at his grasp on my thumb. I could not get my fill of looking. 

There should be a song for women to sing at this moment, or a prayer to recite. But perhaps there is none because there are no words strong enough to name that moment. Like every mother since the first mother, I was overcome and bereft, exalted and ravaged. I had crossed over from girlhood. I beheld myself as an infant in my mothers arms and caught a glimpse of my own death. I wept without knowing whether I rejoiced or mourned. My mothers and their mothers were with me as I held my baby... 

Why did I not know that birth is the pinnacle where women discover the couraget to become mothers?                                                             (The Red Tent by Anita Diamant)

Aaron helped me "discover" my motherhood in so many ways.


The two years when it was just him and me. All day, everyday. My little buddy. My whole world.


And now he's been in our world for five years!

Five years.  


Same perfect smile. 


Same gorgeous eyes. 


Same infectious laugh. 


Same intense hugs. 




Same amazing way of making people love him, without any words. 
Just like he did 5 years ago, a baby placed in my arms. 
No words necessary.

I made this video back when Aaron was only 3 months old...If anyone knows how to change the thumbnail on this...seriously all the sweet, tender pictures of my Aaron, and somehow youtube decides the picture of Tanner wearing a nursing pillow on his head is the winner? 

PS Ben did make it that night, and to both McKye and Levi's births (well he almost missed Levi's parking the car!)

Some thoughts at Poppa's passing

One of the things I found interesting about getting married 
was going from being part of one family to two.  A whole other sets of grandparents, aunts uncles, cousins, people you basically don't know from Adam that in a instance become "family".


Because Ben and I dated so long (1999-2005...with the exception of one very sad summer for Benny, and our missions) I already knew his parents and siblings VERY well (he's the oldest of 8, and the youngest was not even a year when we started dating, so she's basically never known her brother Ben with Chelsea too.)


But the extended family was a bit different. 


Takes time and patience and observation and asking questions and really listening and trying to keep everyone straight to make a meaningful relationship out of a mere"relative"


Poppa was easy.

Poppa liked to talk. He liked to share: his thoughts, his opinions, his testimony, his theories on microwaves, his full-endorsement of DeVry (every grandchild will chuckle at this), his genealogy, his time, his love.


Poppa was incredible smart and has an unbelievable story.






He left us, his posterity with many things...

A certain recognizable head-shape (that needn't be covered by hair) and maybe the ears too!

A sense of our heritage. he was a great family historian, loved the temple, exemplified the role of a patriarch, and often spoke lovingly an hopefully of his posterity.

Wisdom...

....and more wisdom.

The first time I heard Poppa speak in church he was reporting his church-service mission as a employment specialist. The meeting had long since gone overtime and the poor Bishop, realizing Henri was just getting warmed up looked helpless on the stand. Finally, his wife, June, got up and tugged on his suit jacket. He looked down at his little cue cards, and apologized to the audience, "I've only got through two of my twelve cards, but my wife's telling me it's time end...perhaps another time"

I wonder if he feels like that now, his time on earth running out, but he still would have loved to share more.

I'm sure he is still sharing. { What happens after we die}

Henri sharing his ice cream with Ben's other grandpa Albert.

Such a great picture, of the men who's blood flows through my husband's veins and now mingles with mine, in my sons. 

Both left a legacy. Both are missed. I hope I can through my own memories and the journals and memoirs they left, help my children"know" them and learn from their examples.

without incident

When I arrived at playgroup this morning I was concerned that I hadn't brought little jackets for my boys. 


When we left, Aaron had on undies and his crocks...


I told a friend yesterday I was ready to go have just one playgroup 
without incident, 
I guess today was not that day. Nor was


yesterday. Aaron took off at the park.  And he's fast.
I did a quick 360 degree turn and realized there's 360 different directions he could have gone.
I asked another mom to watch McKye and Levi and took off running. 
I was trying to cover as much ground as possible, running til my heart (and head) was racing. Aaron is tricky because you can't even call after him, because he can't answer (every time I call out "McKye where are you? and he calls back"down stairs mom"etc, I marvel)
Just as I was about to hyperventilate and go into a full blown panic attack, the other mom called "he came back!" We're still no sure where exactly he wondered off to. But after having to endure my never-ending hugs of relief, hopefully he wont do it again anytime soon (?)


Day before that, we thought we go to the spray park, which apparently because we finally had some nice weather, was every other stay at home mom's thoughts as well, cuz the place was packed! After spending 45 minutes convincing McKye he can wear a pair of swim shorts, instead of his beloved blue jeans (which he totally wore to the park the day before and had a meltdown, physically and emotionally) we arrived. In the two minutes it took me to prop up the baby, and spray bug spray (mosquitoes are insane this year!) I look to see wear Aaron's at.  Looking for his bright green swim trunks, among the masses, when I see them, in a little mound. Aaron is nearby buck naked a group of concerned (and obviously better) mommies than me forming a little circle around his indecency. I abandon the propped up baby and run over. Aaron is not happy about putting wet shorts back on, some other dear children decide I'm an easy target and drench me with the dumb elephant head sprayers (curse them! the sprayers, of course,  not the children)


And today...off we go, hopes high for just a nice normal visit to the park.  Things are going well. I even got to chat a bit with the other moms (PS don't judge us mommies who are just trying desperately to get a little adult interaction in: we love our kids, we're with then ALL day, so while in theory it would  be nice for us to play WITH them on the playground equipment, it's a just a precedent we'd really rather not set, okay?)
Alright, so things are going good (by good, I mean my boys are busy piling rocks from the playground onto a nearby picnic table, which I'm sure will annoy some poor picnickers, but they were doing it together, so it made me happy.)


Then Aaron discovered a malfuctioning sprinkler.  It was squirting down and had made just a lovely and ever-so-tempting pool in the grass, just over the hill where mommy couldn't see him. At first he just wanted to throw rocks (his hands-down favorite past time), which I thought, huh, annoying for a mower, then I thought, it's gonna be to wet to mow there anyways, so I take the opportunity to share my story of our spray park adventure. As soon as I concluded, I said, "In fact I bet Aaron is naked right now splashing to his hearts content"


Nope, he had kept his undies on (see he's so modest!) and was splashing to his hearts content.


His clothes were floating in the mini-lake, which I waded through and took home sopping with my naked child and Mckye, who while investigating Aaron's fun had stepped a little too close, and was whining "Wet! Wet!"


And while I thought of taking and posting a picture, I decided against it as I was already told by Facebook to remove a picture of Aaron in the shower eating chips (funny right? the bag was well placed), and I didn't want to risk  repeat offense... apparently other people don't think my child's obsession with nudity is quite as endearing as I do.


And while I seemed to take it all in stride (that's my public-persona Easy-going Bretzke) inside I'm well aware of how ridiculous it all is.




So next time you take your little ones to the park, and all that happens is that they played at the park (fully clothed the whole time), you can think of the Bretzkes, 
count your blessings and smile.

Just love

Today I held my baby sisters baby girl for the first time.
I'm always prepared to feel overwhelming love for my own babies. 
In fact, I expect it. Anticipate it. Revel in it.


But I am always surprised, shocked, and unprepared to feel so much 
immediate, automatic and unconditioanl love for my siblings babies.


In my head I think: oh one day we'll be good buds and I'll be "Aunty Chelsea" and our relatioship will develop. 


Instead, it took approximately a minute and a half of holding "little"(she was 9 lbs, 2 oz!)                            Kamber Rose for me to be flooded with emotion, and I just feel humbled by her spirit.

She is strong. She pushed against her swaddles blankets, hard, determined, not in a normal newborny wiggly way. She pushed because she knew what she wanted (her mom).
I can't wait to learn more of her strength.


I loved her for no reason. I just did. 


God's "unconditional love" at times has been hard for me to grasp. I mix up love with other things like, approval, trust, even gratitude. 


Then I hold a new spirit. Fresh from heaven and God whispers. 
"Like this. This is how I love you...I just do"




Congrats Mel and Ike! 

Too much!

I think the major challenge of my whole life is going to be about maintaining balance!


Last week sometime (who knows, you know how the days can flow into each other!) I was discussing moderation with a good, wise friend (yes, Alana this time I'm referring to the one and only Rebecca!)


It was a long and good conversation about how society is not moderate at all (super-size, watch enter series of TV on box sets for two examples off the top of my head) and it's hard to live that principle. Hence addictions. 


I tend to think of myself as a fairly moderate person, food usually comes to mind as my credential for thinking this. I feel like my family growing up had good eating habits (although sugar-cravings I think just come with age, or birthing babies or both, cuz yesterday as I ransacked my kitchen for a quick "sweet-fix"  I found my desperate-pathetic-self popping gummy-vitamins, that my kids deemed"yucky". Hey, bonus got my sugar and my vitamin C for the day:) 


But then when I really analyze myself I wonder. I'm I as free as I think I am?

Some addictions are very apparent. There are lots of more subtle ones, being additcted to control, or praise, or neagtive self-talk.

I listened to a talk on anger today (guess what two  and a half year old inspired that search word?)

 At one point he said:

"All addiction is in a need to find comfort."

As soon as I heard that I thought, "to replace the Comforter"

We have been given this great gift, and instead we choose other things (food, self pity, sex, TV) that Satan, the world, or just even our lazy selves tell us will work just as well.

But it doesn't.

It can't really fill the voids.

The husband and wife counselor team, also explained how hurt and anger are reactions to our needs feeling threatened.

Ready for my epiphany????

I've known for a long time, that to have a good day I need to get up before my kids. 

For someone with non-sleeping children, I have tried to rationalize this away. 

But it doesn't work and today I figured out why.

I need to have some time to myself to 

to plan,

to evaluate.

to study the scriptures.

to listen.

to ponder.

to pray.

to breath.

If I do that before my kids are up, I'm ready. Ready to be crawled on and interrupted and demanded.

If I don't, that need remains unfulfilled and all day I'm trying to squeeze it in, wondering when I'll get a moment, and all the normal things my kids d0-- spill, poop, general meltdowns and messes-- are suddenly interpreted as threats to my unfulfilled need.

result. Mommy gets mad.

Then mommy gets sad, cuz she feel like a bad mommy.

Back to moderation.

Even good things need to be moderated (say that word like Arnold Schwarzenegger and it's way funner!)

Case in point. I find things that bring my little mommy soul, more peace, contentment and overall joy and then....I over do them.

If I think. I think too much.


If I talk. I always talk too much.


If I start reading again. All the sudden I'm reading too much (ie ignoring my kids)


If I blog I blog too much (again neglecting my littletons)


If I clean, I clean too much (not that it shows)


If I talk on the phone...you get the picture.


I take really great things that bring me fulfillment and I get excited by that feeling.


Like right now. I should go to bed and just post this even though it's little all over the place.


One last random thought from that talk on anger...such good stuff.
They shared an experiment, where they interviewed kids right after they got in trouble at the playground. When interviewers asked "Why was you mommy/daddy upset with you?" none of the kids knew. But they all expressed in some way that they felt the upset parent didn't like them.                                                                                                                                                                The message of anger was not getting across only the negative emotions were being communicated.


Th reality broke my heart a little. I need to reconsider some of the messages I'm sending my kids. And I need to get to bed, and finish this rambling random post:)