Gratitude

I'm trying to keep my blog as kind of journal/family history project. What's different about a blog vs. a bound notebook is people actually read what you write. That is both a good and a bad thing. I love being able to share our special moments with those in our lives who care about our family. But it can also feel very limiting in what types of personal things I share. I kept quiet about most of the post-partum depression I dealt with this year...too worried about sounding whiny I guess (thank heavens that's over with). I also didn't feel like I could share the details of the stressful situation that we dealt with over Christmas.....it wasn't my personal story, even though as a family member I was involved, and I would hate to splash someone else's private crisis all over the internet for others to read. That being said I'm going to post about some feelings that are probably on the verge of what I'm comfortable sharing, but it's something that has been a challenge to me over the past few years. I don't mean to offend anyone.



Before we moved here we lived in a little house out in Magna. I loved my house. I loved my ward. I had such a great group of friends. I served in callings in Relief Society and Young Womens with wonderful and amazing women. A group of us met up as a Lunch Playgroup once a week and while our kids enjoyed playing with each other us mommies had our much needed girlie time with each other. It was so hard to leave, but our home was quite small and we wanted to move into something a little larger that our family could grow into. We felt so blessed when we finally signed the papers on a home that had much more space, but because of being on the Foreclosure market it was going for an great price and our monthly housepayment would only increase by $10. We had prayed about it before moving in and even though I never felt a strong impression either way Mike felt like it was the right place for us to be and I trusted him to lead our family in the right direction. I still trust his impression and I deep down I know that this is where we're supposed to be, but I've often wondered why.



We've lived here almost as long as we lived in our last house, but I still don't feel anywhere near as settled in as I did there. I have a a couple of great friends, but Mike and I used to joke that we were so grateful for all the inactive and non-member neighbors we had because that was where most of our friendship and support system came from. I still remember going in for my first temple recommend interview about 7 months after we'd moved in. After the counselor was done with the standard questions he stopped and said "I feel impressed to ask you how you like it here." I kind of skirted the question, until he flat out asked me if any visiting teachers/neighbors/RS women had been to my house. In that whole 7 months I had not had one woman come to my doorstep. It had been a difficult winter for me. We were remodeling our house so we were all stuck living in one room in the basement, all my belongings were boxed up, I had just had a baby and was having the usual PPD. I spent all day every day down in the cold dark basement with my kids and I was more alone than I had ever felt in my life. When he asked me that question I just stared bawling and I couldn't stop. After all this time I still long for the support system I had in my last ward. It was so nice to know that if I needed babysitting I had 6-7 women I could call and who would let me return the favor. I've just never found that here. Added to that we've had some struggles with Caeden making friends and because of a speech delay and some circumstances (that I'm sure I took way too personal) I didn't feel like he was accepted and loved in his Primary. With my feelings about being here already so raw I happened to be attending a church meeting where a group was talking about the area and someone from the newer homes in our ward made the comment "I just hate having to drive through the ghetto to get to church." Well. That was MY neighborhood. My home. I think I developed an insecurity that the reason we didn't fit in was because we lived in the wrong kind of house. When people would move out they'd always stand up in their last testimony meeting and talk about how everyone cared so much for them and they were so sad to leave.....frankly I always felt a little puzzled....did we really belong to the same ward? I admit if Mike had asked me about moving almost any time in these last 4 1/2 years I probably would have jumped at the chance.



Later that year I finally made a good friend, Ellen, and even though I still struggled with feeling accepted I valued her friendship and it meant the world to me. I started to get to know some people on an acquaintance basis, but I still didn't feel like I had much of a group of people I could actually call "friends". I fell into another period of blues when my sweet friend moved away. Even though we still keep in touch we couldn't get together as often for lunches, playdates, craft time, family dinners. Our sons were best friends and added to all of my feelings I had to deal with my boys missing their favorite playmates. I felt very alone again and like a little kid I found myself on my knees praying for some friends. I think as a stay at home mom I depend on my connection with other women more than I used to. A few months later I got to know someone else through our shared love of running. Kim has always been there when I needed her. It's nice to have a friend who remembers your birthday, calls you just to chat about nothing, listen to you cry over stupid things, knows just when to drag you out of your house and is always there when you need them. I know that she had been an answer to my prayers (I know you're reading this Kim, I hope you're not too embarassed). I'm so grateful that she's in my life. Like I mentioned before, I've also gotten to know some non-member and less active women around me and I've slowly developed wonderful friendships with some of them as well.



I know this post sounds like a great big pity-party, but I didn't feel like the next part of the story would be understood without some prior history. This last week my family and I have been sick. Very sick. I've hardly left my bed all week. Poor Weston is beyone miserable. We've been into the Dr.s but they're no longer testing for H1N1 and said it was probably just viral and we had to wait it out. Over the last couple of days I have had one neighbor take Tanner to her house to play so that the baby and I could rest. I had another offer to take all my kids, even my sick baby, so I could rest (I refused, I would feel forever guilty if we spread this nasty stuff), she also picked up some cat food, milk, and medicine for me at the grocery store since I've been unable to get out. Another offered to take over my end of the preschool carpool so I wouldn't have to take Weston out of the hosue. Another let Caeden come over to her house to play all day after school yesterday (even though I know it's past my turn to have the boys over here). And another offered to not only pick up any handouts from the Enrichment night I'd be missing, but also offered to take notes since I was so dissapointed at not being able to go. Added to that I have wonderful family that has stepped in and taken Tanner as well as offered to take both of the older boys tomorrow night.



The scriptures say we go through trials in this life in order to teach us and help us grow. Even though I hate being sick and I feel like this is never going to end I think I know what lesson is supposed to be sinking into my hard head. I DO have a support system here......more of one than I realized. I think I've been so busy pining for what I once had that I've probably been a little blinded to what I have now. Don't get me wrong, I'd still like to get to know some people better here, I like having friends to chat with on the phone, go to lunch with, that kind of superficial stuff BUT this experience has taught me that when the chips are down there are people out there who care about us and will step in to lend a helping hand. I don't know if it's exhaustion and cold medicine just going to my fuzzy head or what, but I have found myself in tears over the outpouring of genorosity and caring that I've felt the last few days. I'm also finding the need to repent. Repent of my hard feelings. Repent of not letting past wrongs go. Repent of not seeking out the good that surrounds me. Repend of being too judgemental and not giving people the benefit of the doubt.



I'm feeling very humbled. I'm trying to repent and forgive. I'm full of gratitude. Lesson learned. Can I please get feeling better now???