Loved.

Note: Reading back over this, I realize it sounds incredibly whiny and extremely dramatic. I've debated taking it down because I think it doesn't represent the whole picture well, just the end result of long days...but, at the same time, I do that often (incidently) with the good moments...so maybe just average the two extremes together and know I love my life, but some days, not so much. :)
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Sometimes I feel really undervalued and ignored by my kids.  I feel like I am repeating myself over and over again, and getting zero response from them. It gets frustrating, and many times I feel like I am failing. I know it's dramatic, but I just don't feel the love from them- you know? Well, Sunday was an answer to a desperate prayer. With school in session I just needed to connect with my kids and feel like I was getting through to them.
Sunday morning I woke up with a faint headache. As I got ready for church, it got stronger and morphed into a migraine. I had trouble walking, sunlight stung, and certain high pitch voices (ahem, looking at you, Matthew) felt like a zing to a pressure point in my brain. About an hour before church I began vomiting. John was not home. Matthew came up to watch and looked so concerned. He ran as fast as his little legs could, hollering, "Taity! Taity! Mom needs you!" It was so sweet that he knew something was wrong and that Caity was the first person he thought to get. The next few moments were a blur as my vision started blacking out. I remember curling in a ball on the couch. Johnny was at the other end of the couch looking empathetic, rubbing my foot. I vaguely remember William and Matthew two inches from my face looking like, "Is she alive?" and then everything was black. I was in and out from there. When I woke up forty minutes later, there was a pillow under my head, and a blanket over me. Caity had set up a little table with water and bowl on it (in case I got sick.) It was seriously the sweetest to be taken care of like that. I sat up and my migraine and shifted to a faint headache. All the kids had gotten ready for church and were waiting patiently for dad to get home. I felt so loved! Every Sunday I feel like I am touting off orders on deaf ears to make sure we get to church on time (we never do.) To have them all go through the process on their own just gave me this "bigger picture." I knew it was their love and concern for me that drove them to do it. Caity also picked up the mess from breakfast. She said, "I don't know what it is, but when you get sick I just feel like 'OK Caity, time to step up and take care this family like mom would." Bless her nurturing heart. Bless all of them. I felt so loved. To top it off, I felt good enough to go to church, which I desperately needed.

Also, the day before was John and my eleventh anniversary. We spent the day going to practices and my brother came to visit. When we finally came up to bed, thirty minutes after we sent the kids up, we found this post hanging on our wall:

It made my heart so happy.

Again: felt so loved.

Last experience I want to share:

It was Thursday evening after a looooong week of shuttling kids around and being late to everything despite my very best efforts. It was a week of visions that just didn't pan out. I was discouraged. I felt like I was failing on all fronts. It came crashing down while I was trying to find the location for Johnny's football pictures. I was only given the road the field was on, not an exact location on that 15+ mile road. I was so frustrated. Despite leaving so we could be there thirty minutes early, we were fifteen minutes late, I had no phone numbers to call and felt all alone. I cried and hit the steering wheel. Of course in this moment, every shortcoming came at me like a semi-truck going full speed. I resigned that we would miss the pictures. I turned to go home and thirty seconds later, we pass the field where pictures are being taken. Johnny gets excited and I pull up so he can run out (super late) and sprint to his team just in time to get in the team picture. He then ran over and had his individual picture. The photographer was kind of rude, and I felt a little defeated again.  I finally was able to find humor in the moment when I handed him an envelope full of five dollars and fifteen dollars in change. Seriously- pennies, nickels and dimes. I could only laugh at that point, because that was a low that I just didn't start out the day thinking I would hit. I turned around to find my kids climbing on these giant tires:

Johnny said, "Mom! Take our picture here! This will be a lot cooler than me holding a football!" It was a moment where how I really felt came into focus and I could just feel their love for life, and it was contagious. It was a beautiful fall evening, with a JV high school football game in the background. A tender mercy to prick my heart. Next I headed to a Relief Society Meeting. I didn't want to go. Church was an area I felt like was struggling in. Not my testimony, but my ability to connect with people. I was just assuming everyone else thought the worst about me. (A terrible habit I am always working to overcome.) When John dropped me off, tears again were coming without even asking, and I was so annoyed with it all. (In retrospect, I think I was just past exhausted.) I pulled it together and walked into the gym, thinking I had no one, knew no one, and no one would want to see me. I know it's dramatic, but that was where I was at. I opened the door and was met by big smiles and sweet friends welcoming me. I felt loved. I felt that they all did know my flaws, but loved me any ways. I felt part of an organization bigger than me, and I felt so grateful for relief society, and that I could be a member of it. 

I came home feeling my purpose in life, and it was so needed.

Random moments, but I just want to record that in my darkest moments I have felt the redeeming power of love and it has lifted me to a lighter place.

And I'm grateful for that.