Surprise!

I know, I am posting again in the same month. It's a miracle!
Speaking of miracles (subtle segue, right?) I wanted to share a powerful experience with whoever wanted to read it.


I just watched the movie of Les Miserables with Hugh Jackman and Russel Crowe. I have seen several productions, both professional and amateur. I have listened to the music. And every time (may the theater Gods strike me down if they need to) I can only focus on the fact that the whole thing is FREAKING LONG!!! It kills me! Why couldn't they just break the play somewhere else, resolve it quicker, Why on earth do they need that hour in the last 2/3rds? There are a couple of songs I like, but the Thenardier's are my absolute favorites! They are hilarious.

Now, before I saw it, I had read all the reviews: about how Anne Hathaway deserved all the credit, she was the only one who could sing, some reviews thought Hugh Jackman was awesome, some thought Russel Crowe was. I didn't see any that thought they both were in the same review. I was prepared to watch and suffer through the 158 minutes just because it was said to be "one of the most important films of our generation" .

 However, for some reason, this version spoke deeply to me. I cried through the whole last hour. I did look at my watch a couple of times, not gonna lie, but it was amazing. I wasn't thinking about anything other than how I was emotionally enthralled. When the young boy crossed the barricade and went out to meet the French soldiers, I swear I heard my heart break.


Sometimes, we experience things that are important to us because of the time we experience them. I am coming up on my daughter's 17th birthday. She passed away that same year, so it will also be the 17th anniversary of her death. Add to that the Easter season which is always emotional for me for spiritual reasons, the thought of that young boy with all that courage, knowing he was going to die - I just couldn't see anything else. To see the suffering and joy (two sides of the same coin) on Jean Valjean's face when Cosette grows up and becomes a woman was especially poignant to me as my older children are leaving the nest and becoming their own family units. As I am researching my family history and find that my ancestor's were slave owners I am filled with such shame but also empathy for the civilian population that were fighting against an uncaring regime. As I face the difficulties that my country is heading into I am curious about the aspects of entitlements that are similar to the French aristocracy of the time. It was a time for that movie/plot/story (whatever) to impact me. Never mind that I thought I would never love or like it. Never mind that I had seen it before. Now . . . is a new time.

I love Spring

I just love spring. I love the smell of wet dirt, I love that just when I have given up all hope of sunshine, warmth, and rebirth, those tiny crocus flowers emerge through the snow and give me a little more time to breathe. I love Baby Animal days in Cache Valley. I love the joy I get in watching my children play outside and roll in the grass, catch the bugs, run screaming from the bees (alright, so that is not really my favorite, but it is inevitable, so needed a mention). I love the traditions we have: St. Patrick's Day, Treasure Hunts, planting flowers and gardens. I love Easter. I, however, do not like the Easter Bunny.
This year, with the movie "The Rise of the Guardians", I am on the horns of a parental dilemma. Is the Easter Bunny real, and if so, how come he has never come to our house. Now, we have treasure hunts, lots of candy, but not the Easter Bunny. A long time ago, I decided to draw a line in the ethical/spiritual sand. I can't help the commercialization of Christmas, but I can choose Easter. So, Easter has always been about the resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and not the bunny. Now with that  dang movie, if the Easter Bunny isn't real, neither is the Tooth Fairy, Jack Frost, and Santa Claus. Now, I want my children's illusions to last as long as their innocence, and don't want to be the person that shatter's them, but also don't want to be the mother that lies bold faced to her children either. So. . . what to do. I have no idea. I would welcome ideas, of course.

On another note, I have good news to share. Since I don't get the opportunity to go to Relief Society (those dang 8 and 9 year olds get my attention instead-cute little stinkers), I thought I would share this way.

Christian is getting married. Shelby is a darling girl, we like her (which is good for us), I think she likes us (which will be good for her), and she is definitely good for Christian (which is good for everybody). We had family pictures taken and we were lucky enough that she was game to join even though she is not a Nielson yet. We did miss Miranda, Jess and Trevor, but a parent can only work with what she can control. I look forward to receiving photo's from the missing children as soon as they are able, but until then, we are as complete as we can be.
Have a marvelous spring and everybody . . . get out in the dirt and have some fun!

Thanksgiving for my Alexis

As I was reflecting on my blessings at this time of year, I am thinking about Alexis and the indelible mark she has left on our family. I don't have much tangible evidence that she was a part of our earthly family for a short while. Sometimes it is hard to believe she was even here. I miss her and I know all our children do as well. As we were watching LDS General Conference this fall, Elder Shayne M. Bowen spoke about feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair being swallowed up in joy because of the Savior. I want to include an excerpt from his talk that made me think so much of Alexis and the joy we can have because we are a forever family.
     "At that moment it felt as if our world had come to an end. How could we return to the other children and somehow try to explain that Tyson wasn’t coming home?

I will speak in the singular as I relate the rest of this experience. My angel wife and I experienced this trial together, but I am inadequate in expressing the feelings of a mother and would not even try to do so.

It is impossible to describe the mixture of feelings that I had at that point in my life. Most of the time I felt as if I were in a bad dream and that I would soon wake up and this terrible nightmare would be over. For many nights I didn’t sleep. I often wandered in the night from one room to the other, making sure that our other children were all safe.

Feelings of guilt racked my soul. I felt so guilty. I felt dirty. I was his father; I should have done more to protect him. If only I would have done this or that. Sometimes even today, 22 years later, those feelings begin to creep into my heart, and I need to get rid of them quickly because they can be destructive.

About a month after Tyson died, I had an interview with Elder Dean L. Larsen. He took the time to listen to me, and I will always be grateful for his counsel and love. He said, “I don’t think the Lord would want you to punish yourself for the death of your little boy.” I felt the love of my Heavenly Father through one of his chosen vessels.

However, tormenting thoughts continued to plague me, and I soon began to feel anger. “This isn’t fair! How could God do this to me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?” I even felt myself get angry with people who were just trying to comfort us. I remember friends saying, “I know how you feel.” I would think to myself, “You have no idea how I feel. Just leave me alone.” I soon found that self-pity can also be very debilitating. I was ashamed of myself for having unkind thoughts about dear friends who were only trying to help.

As I felt the guilt, anger, and self-pity trying to consume me, I prayed that my heart could change. Through very personal sacred experiences, the Lord gave me a new heart, and even though it was still lonely and painful, my whole outlook changed. I was given to know that I had not been robbed but rather that there was a great blessing awaiting me if I would prove faithful.

My life started to change, and I was able to look forward with hope, rather than look backward with despair. I testify that this life is not the end. The spirit world is real. The teachings of the prophets regarding life after death are true. This life is but a transitory step forward on our journey back to our Heavenly Father." (Bowen, S. M., 2012 retrieved from http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/because-i-live-ye-shall-live-also?lang=eng)

We know that she will always be a part of our family. Elder Bowen's feelings of despair and guilt are very similar to what mine were. It took years to get past the anger and guilt. We love her, miss her and look forward to the day when we can be reunited as a family. I know she is looking out for us from the other side of the veil and I am sure she had several long discussions about how to handle her parents with Tori and Connor before they joined our family.

Every year at Christmas, we still hang her stocking. We allow anyone who would like to share a personal note with her, to write her one and slip it in her stocking. Some years, there is nothing, others, her sock is full. This year, I will be sharing a poem I wrote her when I was taking a creative poetry writing course. I know, anyone who knows me, knows poetry is not my bag, so don't judge. But, I though I would share it here with you as well.

• Wanting
  Pain crushes me to the ground as
  the lid closes on the coffin and 
  Flashes!
  of the brief life just
  extinguished pass before me.
  Things I have taken fro granted, 
  stolen away in the night.
  The warm, fuzzy smell of sleep, nights of sleeplessness,
  sunshine smiles just for me,
  teething screams that jar my ears,
  tottering first steps,
  potty training,
  waiting up late to talk after a first date,
  nights of curfew breaking that I can't fight over,
  the wedding and joy we can't share,
  arguments that I can't afford to lose.
  Moments of my child's life
  gone.
  I am given no explanations.
  It is hard for me to accept comfort.
  I can only hold on to the feel 
  of her in my arms,
  safe and secure,
  and have faith that one day
  it will come again. 
  
  
  Alexis, we love you baby, and Happy Holidays!
  
  
  
  
  

Birthday Fun

Today is Connor's 6th birthday. What a wondrous ride the last 6 years have been. I though I would put a few of my favorite pictures of the little squirt on the blog as I am waiting for him to come home from kindergarten today. He has grown about 3 inches in the last year and only put on 2 pounds. He is such a scrawny chicken, but cuddly and loving. He has discovered a love for Marvel and DC Comic superheroes. It started with Spider-man, moved on to Batman, and now the Hulk. He growls at everyone and he tries to pound you to the ground. We almost bought him big green foam fists for his birthday and then decided I am getting beat to death already, no need to encourage it further. For those who might not know or remember, Connor's birth mother loved him so much. She wanted him to go to a great family to give her baby boy the things she wasn't capable of at the time. We did hear about her a couple of months ago from the adoption agency. She is still clean living, has finished a technical certification program and working. She has been holding down the same job for 4 years, and is doing so much better. I am including a picture of her from Connors birth, just as a thank you tribute to Shannon-may she ever be in our prayers as thanks for this precious spirit that has been allowed to be in our family.

He has come so far in his life. He started at just 4 pounds and 12 ounces as a full term baby. He was in distress and had the cord wrapped around his neck 3 times, but was still 18 inches long. The doctors say it will take awhile for him to catch up to his growth, but he is working on it. He was little enough at birth to fit in Jared's palm. It is hard to believe that my (he thinks he is a grown up) son was at one time that small and delicate. Today, he has friends coming over to play for his birthday. It is not the same as his birthday party, because that is Saturday. These are just a couple of friends that can't come Saturday. He has asked for a motorcycle he can drive, a new blanket and pillow, the hulk, and a TV of his very own for his room. Needless to say, he will get the gifts listed in the middle. We are so proud of him. He is doing well in school, and learning to control his temper.
I just can't get over how great this kid is. He cracks me up almost every day. The other days, he is the most exasperating child on the planet. The never ending questions that all seem to start with the word "Why". Mom, I don't know how you survived my growing up years with out giving me away.

So, Here's to my little man! May the next years be as great as the last ones!

October

As I sit in my living room this morning, listening to LDS General Conference, I felt I needed to talk about traditions. My mother's family is of Northern European descent and so is my husband's family (on both sides). It seems appropriate that our semi-annual traditions revolve around those types of foods. Every year for April conference, Jared's family has prepared Swedish pancakes for breakfast Sunday morning and the resulting eating contests have been legendary.
We wanted to start our own traditions for October, so continuing with the trend, decided on abbleskeivers. This year, as I was making the traditional Danish dish for breakfast, I was struck with such an appreciation for my parents and the things they have taught me about love, life, and parenting.
I was also filled with an appreciation for Jared's parents who, at this very moment, are serving a mission in Denmark as assistants to the mission president in Copenhagen. Even though I don't talk to them as often as their other children do while they are in their mission, I do think of them often and felt close to them as I was following their traditions of preparing a special meal, eating together as a family, cleaning up while the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sings in the background, and then sitting down with coloring and bingo kits to entertain the small children while we watch conference as a family. What a blessing to live during this time and to belong to such a wonderful group of parents and have such a rich heritage.
I hope as my children are growing and starting their own families, that their love of tradition (both adopted traditions and newly started ones) will continue.


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