Melting Down and Standing Back Up Again

We went to a holiday arts activity at WSU last month and even though they are smiling here, it was not all fun.  My little Sophia had a "moment."  I like to call it this because really, we ALL have them.  "Moments."  Adults may gossip when they are frustrated.  Maybe it means venting on Facebook or indulging in that quart of ice cream.  We all have our own ways of throwing "acceptable" tantrums in society.  But for her poor little body and overstimulated brain a "moment" means completely falling apart at those ever fragile seams. "I don't know what to do!" "They're looking at me!" "I just want to give up!" These are some of the things she yells and it is heartbreaking.  I hurry her away from the other kids who are looking scared, and tell Michael to keep an eye on his brother, then she collapses in the corner.

I try to hold her but she won't let me.  How can this sweet little face not want me to hug her? How can this social sparrow feel like "there's too many people in the room"?  How can the same little hands that drew this bunny and Christmas tree now be clenched in fists, as she sits on the cold floor, sobbing?

 

I take a deep, slow breath and demand she does too.  I don't want her feeling like this, like she's a failure.  I won't let her.  She refuses.  Then she agrees to try the breathing but does it fast and quick to get it over with.  So much for that.  So we go through the next steps.  Rest.  Water.  Food. Processing mentally.   Luckily the WSU Art Department had a great array of snacks and bottled water.  First I convince her to drink some  water.  Then I manage to split a banana with her.  I take a bite and then she will, back and forth back and forth as we both sit on the linoleum, criss-cross applesauce.  I keep an eye on my other two at a distance, grateful they are behaving and we have some friends from the ward who are here as volunteers to help keep an eye on them.  

Then Sophia and I process.  We talk about how if she gives up and we leave now we will both feel sad for what she missed.  But if she tries again, with help, she will be successful.  I have to explain this about 4 times, during which I misunderstand her, accidentally finish off the banana and she is in tears again.  I take a few more slow, deep breaths.

But then something amazing happens.  We both stand back up again.  And, together, we finish what she started.

Being a parent is never easy.  Neither is being a child.  Yet, God has asked us to be both.  No one is born able to walk.  We try.  We fall.  And we stand back up again.  That is His plan.  It is what makes us stronger.  Throw a special physical, mental or emotional need in there and things get even trickier.  But the victories are also that much sweeter.  They really are.

It is truly humbling to be the mother of my kids.  Their challenges and frustrations bring me to my knees before my Heavenly Father as I ask Him "How am I supposed to handle this?" and I search my heart for answers.  I'm grateful not every moment is like this.  But I AM grateful these moments are there because they show me we BOTH CAN get up again.

Love,
Eva

Moving On...Within

It's a little belated to be sharing this, but I wanted to make sure it was here since I've spent a lot of time writing here about my Dad.  Here was my TBT and Facebook status on Christmas...and some closure...well, at least as much as is humanly possible when your heart is still open...

TBT My first Christmas ever... Today was my first Christmas without getting to kiss my Daddy on the cheek. I still miss him, but there were no tears today. Just a happy Christmas as I felt him near me, like that first Christmas many years ago. Families are forever. More than ever before I am thankful for the birth of a perfect baby boy that would make eternal families possible. Thank you Heavenly Father for sharing your Son and thank you Jesus Christ for sharing your gift of love with the world. And thank you Daddy for sharing that gift with me. This was the first scripture he ever memorized and he quoted it often to me. I quote it tonight:"For God so loved, the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. " John 3:16 

This was my status a few days later...

Love goes on. People might have to leave us for a while. Others are still with us and need our love even more. This was the first Christmas I had a "widow" to look after. She may be my mom, but regardless of that I hope to treat her with the same care and concern President Monson had as he looked after the widows in his ward when he was a Bishop. They need us. And we need them, because they have so much strength, wisdom and love to share too. I am so grateful my kids and I have my mother.

And finally, no picture, but today's status...

Sometimes at the end of the year I can start feeling discouraged- there are bound to be quite a few things on my to-do list that didn't get done! And even though another brand new year is starting, that thought doesn't help me too much.  What does help me is thinking of my Heavenly Father's To-Do list for me and realizing I haven't made much progress on MY own list because I've been working so hard on HIS- and that IS the first thing on my list, even if I didn't move very far beyond it. I may not have been performing at firesides, but I was home for my kids at night and available when they had a bad dream or wanted to cuddle. I may not have gone on any really fancy vacations, but I paid my tithes and offerings and was able to help some people in need- and we had a great family vacation to visit more family! I only made it through 1 novel, but I did read my scriptures regularly and 100's of kids' books in the mornings, afternoons and bedtimes. I may not have recorded 1 song, but I did record countless moments with my kids, encouraging them and helping them know they are important. I may not have a blog with hundreds of readers, but I am doing my best to be a good friend to those I know and an influence for good in my own circles and online where I can. I didn't run a half marathon, but I ran a 5k with both my mother and daughter, and then another with my sons in tow too. I may not be teaching thousands through a published self-help book yet, but I am teaching Sunday School, and Dance/Theater/Writing/Nature Studies to kids and hopefully inspiring them to embrace life! I AM THANKFUL my Heavenly Father trusts so many wonderful responsibilities to me. It's been a wonderful year, and I know the best is yet to come. 

This past year has definitely been a journey...of loss, of redemption, of hope.  Thanks for being a part of it!
Love,
Eva

Connecting & Crying With Laura Ingalls Wilder

Yesterday I found a kindred spirit who also loved her bearded, Papa.  Someday I will write here daily and make entire posts out of the "aha moments" I scratch down on random slips of paper or my mental chalkboard.  But till then, it's when I make the time and for this I AM making the time.  It seems fitting that yesterday of all days this happened, the same day I had just taught my own Creative Writing students about the impact of writing.  I explained how some don't believe the author to be the author of the book.  Instead, the reader is the author because they are going to interpret the story their own way.  What might be meaningless to one person might be brilliant to someone else because it connects with them differently.  Last night, I had a connection.  Here is my journal entry about it...

I was really blubbering tonight (have been a lot lately) but how could I not lose it while listening to this violin (that could have been part of a Civil War reenactment) play Auld Lang Syne and while reading these words: She looked at Pa sitting on the bench near the hearth, the firelight gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle. She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting. She thought to herself, 'This is now.' She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago." 

You can watch the video here...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTEFeKESCmY&list=PL9912A544D3A8353C

The kids rushed in and gave me hugs, and asked why I was sad. And I was honest. "I miss my Dad." I don't know how to not miss my Dad. That's like asking someone not to miss the stars, or the majesty of colors in a sunset. It's asking someone not to miss the safest, warmest love they've ever known, because a Father's love is like no other. We're coming up on our first Thanksgiving without him here sitting with us. Last Thanksgiving was the final time my whole family was together, and my emotions are constantly just under the surface. And though I know he is doing greater things now than I can possibly imagine, and that I will see him again some magnificent day, the daddy's-little-girl side of me wants him visibly here, right now. It will be a year at the end of January since he passed. A year that I have not had his green eyes to stare into. A year that my daughter has not had the chance to play and pull on his beard and see him smile. Or see my son just rest next to him in bed, reading him books. I'm grateful he's not bedridden anymore, but he's so painfully missed some days. 

The other night my Michael came out from his bed crying terribly, saying he missed Grandpa. That's when your own faith is tested, when you have to explain on the spot what you believe is true and why it keeps you going. Because it does. It really does keep you going and keep you strong. And yet, there is still a touch or sometime a monsoon of sadness in a moment, because you were so lucky to have someone so precious, and then in a breath have them gone for a while. 

One of my favorite album pages of us

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? " No. I will remember him. I will remember him fiercely, and keep his memory alive and wonderful for my kids. That is the easy part. Just like Laura Ingalls Wilder put it, I have had so many gleaming, glistening, cozy "nows" with my childhood family, and then my good husband added in and then my sweet kids too. And I know we will make more all together some day, in a new, beautiful place. Till then, I will remember his brown hair and beard. I will remember his Civil War music, and relish the fact that my kids love the simple violin with it's free melodies too. I will hold my mom extra close on the days she wears the sweater she knit for my Dad. And I will think to myself each day "This is now." And I will make it a "Now" worth remembering.  

Love, Eva

More Than Special

This is my daughter, Sophia.  At first glance people don't know she's been diagnosed with ADHD, Oppositional-Defiant Disorder, and High-functioning Aspergers.  It's hard for me to even type those words because that's not what I see when I look at her either.  I see a vibrant, artistic, smart, caring, creative, sometimes crazy-loud & other times overwhelmingly shy, silly, thoughtful, beautiful, Christ-like child of God.  I know she's not perfect.  She's my daughter, so just like she's seen the worst of me, I've seen the worst of her.  But her "worse" is innocent, trying, frustrated, confused and yet still, her best in that moment of challenge.  And I'm so proud of her for trying everyday to fit in to this square world when she is a star.  

She did these art projects this week completely all on her own- no prompting from me...

Half of them she made because she loves art.  The other half she made because she loves me.  She wanted to cheer me up.  I can't think of anything more sweet or selfless for someone to do than take the time to create a piece of art out of their own creativity and with their own hands, just to help someone else feel happier.

Yes, she may not always be socially on target. She may not completely understand personal boundaries.  And we are still working on getting through the tired afternoon without a tantrum.  But she IS my sunshine.  She IS a joy.  She remembers stories I told her years ago with amazing detail, makes up songs while we drive to the grocery store and sees beauty in the simplest things.  

She fills me with wonder every day.  

It is a privilege to be the parent of a Special Needs child.  Some people who know me and Sophia may not think we fit in this category, but you don't know the things we struggle with behind closed doors.  Still, I would not be as strong or patient without her in my life.  She understands I get tired some days of the distractions that keep her from brushing her teeth even though I've been reminding her every minute for the past 10.  She knows I get frustrated and feel like an inadequate mom when I've put her to bed at 8:30 and she's still up 3 hours later.  And she may have ended up crying (loudly) at day camp this week because she couldn't make a Loch ness Monster out of beads as "perfect" as she wanted it to be.

But she also knows how to help.  She also understands that taking care of peoples' feelings is important.  When she prays she asks that our family can have help choosing the right and having the Holy Ghost in our home.  When she is her best self she cleans my room and decorates it for me with streamers, art and her favorite stuffed animals.  She holds me extra long when we hug and loves looking at the freckles scattered across my cheeks.  

And, I love looking at hers.  I love her.  I am so thankful she is in my life and I am lucky to call her mine.  Like anyone with a Special Needs child knows, "Special Needs" simultaneously is and isn't what they are.  Because they are so much MORE than a label or acronym.  

And yet, they are definitely, gloriously, special.   

Love, Eva 

The Secret to a Sweet Family Life? Just Add Lots of Frosting!

 I had pictures of this cake before frosting it, but now I can't find them.  Let me say though, they weren't pretty!  Not that the finished product is a work of art either (although I think it appropriately represents the chaos and fun of having 3 young children.)  But before the cake was a DISASTER!  I couldn't remember if I was supposed to let the cake cool first or try to flip it out of the pan while it was still hot.  I decided to try while it was still hot, and I ended up with a hot mess!

 The cake was in three, crumbly, odd-shaped pieces.  My husband walked in and smiled.  Probably partly because he had burned the pork chops that were supposed to be our anniversary dinner.  

Now it was my turn to be in the kitchen with my tail between my legs.

"Don't worry!  I can fix it," I said.  "I'll just add lots of frosting!"

Ricky Ricardo actually said the same thing in an "I Love Lucy" episode where he and Fred took on the housekeeping and cooking roles for a day.  My cake wasn't quite as flat as Fred's, but it still definitely needed some help to get pieced back together...

and LOTS of frosting.

I couldn't help but think about that as I worked on getting it ready for our family anniversary celebration.  There have definitely been moments when I felt like our lives were just as unstable as that cake.  That everything was crumbling, falling to pieces, and not turning out at all how I'd planned.  There were days (my friends really know) that I just wanted to give up and throw everything I'd worked on, this shaping of a family, away.  

Just like there was a moment I thought about tossing that cake out too!

 But then I thought about my kids.  I thought about how much they were counting on me.  I thought about how much they wanted to enjoy these moments together.  I thought about how much we had worked for and what we had to look forward to.

And I couldn't give up.  

I couldn't ever believe in giving up on them or on me or on that cake!  When we are breaking down all we've ever needed was more frosting.  More sweetness in life.  More love.  More kisses.  More caring.  More cutting loose and letting go.  More laughter and fun.  All of these things smooth over the gaps from our lack of understanding each other.  It hides the messes we are as imperfect, selfish people and helps us enjoy our experiences together more fully.  This "frosting" of life is the crazy, passionate, love that looks at a crumbly mess and gives it all it has to make it a beautiful, delicious, treat.

  

 I am proud to say we have definitely worked hard and EARNED this badge of 10 years of marriage.  10 years of forgiving.  10 years of compromising.  10 years of laughing.  10 years of sacrificing.  10 years of sharing.  10 years of learning to put the other, and then 3 others, first.

10 years of living with our hearts wide open and vulnerable, because that is what true love is.

And it has been a wonderful 10 years.  Worth celebrating, recognizing and sharing with our children.

 I love reliving this cake-feeding-wedding moment each year.  Look at the expression on Sam's face.  It's precious.  It's priceless.  It's what the security and joy of our marriage has created.  We aren't perfect at it.  But with enough "frosting", it's enough.  

It's enough for him.

 Look at Michael's smile.  His cheeks are bursting he's so happy.

 And my Sophia.  I hope more than anything that I am showing her that even though choosing to have a family means ups and downs, means putting others first, it also means a LOT of happiness.

 It's hard to imagine my life any other way.  I am so blessed.  And it's important I see that.  I want my husband to know I am thankful for him.  I want my kids to know they are blessings to me.  I need to remember how lucky I am, so in those not-so-sweet moments I can choose to show more love.  I can give them extra hugs.  I can remember sometimes we just need to add LOTS more frosting.  Love, Eva

Mommy Milestones

Last week, after much asking and asking from puppy-dog eyed children, I agreed on having a family sleepover in our living room.  It had already been a very busy week and day, so the late-night fun was conditional on their having good behavior as we ran to a few stores to pick up some snacks and a movie.  It sounded so simple, so fun, but considering how exhausted we all were even I knew I was probably asking for too much.

 As we drove, the tiredness of the week caught up with them (and me) and soon the bickering ensued.  I don't remember what it was about.  I do remember fighting the urge to yell like crazy.  I mean, I never actually want to yell but I do want them to listen to me and for the fighting to stop, and screaming that at them for some strange reason sounds like a good idea sometimes.  But of course it's not- it's exhausting!  It's sad!  And I never have energy after that and it's terrible for them.  I made a threat about losing the sleepover because if they were this cranky, I didn't want them to be even more cranky the next day.  But inside, I wanted so badly for that sleepover to happen!  I needed some fun family time!  I knew I just couldn't flip out...  

 I won't give you the complete play by play of having to stop for gas in the heat, run through two stores with WAY too many toys and candies by the checkouts, and a minor showdown between me and a toddler over defacing a food display, but let's just say we were ready to be home.  As they (and I) became annoyed with each other yet again as we hit every red light, I realized with all of our running around in the afternoon they had never had dinner.  Whoops.   Maybe that had something to do with the stress we were ALL feeling.  I started to empathize and see things from their tired, hungry point of view.  Then I heard them tickling each other and even that was bothering me for some reason...probably the low blood sugar.  As I felt the urge to let off a LOT of steam coming over me again, I made a choice.  Instead of rationalizing an explosion, I pulled over.  I pulled that hot, cranky van over into a parking lot and parked.  I took a few deep breaths.  I explained how when they are rough-housing it distracts me, it's not safe and makes it hard for me to drive.  Those precious kids, my most valuable loves, apologized and said they understood.  That was it.  No explosion.  Just an explanation and then moving on.  Then we went home and had a sleepover!

 And I'm so glad things turned out that way, because if I had given in to the "I'm the mom and that's why!" beast, I would have missed out on this adorable bed Sophia put together for me.

And I wouldn't have heard Sophia say "Mom?  Can I read you a story?"  This sweet little one who sometimes doesn't think she is a good reader, when she is the grandest storyteller I've ever met.

 I would have missed her beautiful, wild, curls dangling in the light of her Flashlight Friend.

And her cute little finger trying to keep her place in the dim light.

 We all wouldn't have giggled at Frog and Toad's silliness.

 I would have missed seeing her adorable nose as she looked down to read, 

her vibrant smile,

 and the precious way she holds her tender chin in her palm.

 We wouldn't have all laughed at how it looked like her unicorn was trying to read too.

Her innocence and curls touch my heart.  The child-like wonder of my kids heals my soul.

 I need moments like this.

They cleanse me.  Recharge me.  They help me discover new depths and layers to myself.

 They remind me of why I do what I do, and keep trying even when I don't do a good job.  And sometimes, I don't.  But when I can slow time down and live in the moment, it's rich with beauty.  When I can get closer to what's really happening and simultaneously step back and look at the big picture, I am real.  I am honest with my kids.  I am understanding.  I am amazing!  I am a powerful force for good.  I am a mother and I am proud of who I am and who my kids are.

 And when we do take that higher road in parenting, when we are selfless and put what's important first, it's so important we recognize that.  We need to feel proud of ourselves.  We don't have cheerleaders.  We don't get report cards.  There is no paycheck.  But it's not needed when these beautiful, organic moments are ours to cradle.  These Mommy Milestones make everything worth it, because they remind us WE are all still growing.  They show WE are learning.  That we are also getting our training wheels off, tying our shoes and starting to master this experience of Motherhood.  And we don't only love our kids in that instant for their accomplishments and progress, we love ourselves too.  And that achievement helps everyone.  Love, Eva

A Positive Self-Image Is Not Just For Girls

"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself," my little six year-old son said to me.  We were on the bumpy bus ride home after spending two hours running through fields, catching bugs, and pretending to be part of the local wildlife at the Ogden Nature Center.  After helping keep track of 30 curious 1st graders I thought the drive home would be the easy part of the trip.  I was wrong.  

After several attempts to take a portrait of the two of us, my heart sank at hearing my son's observation.  "You don't like any pictures you take of yourself."

 

"It's not you.  It's me," I said.  Cringe.  Did I really just say that?

"You look great in all the pictures," I continued.  But see, first I didn't know I had it zoomed in so close.  And then my hair looked messed up in this one."  While that might be true, it didn't account for the 15 others where the angle of my face (to me) made my cheeks look even bigger or my chin even more pointy, my jawline too angular...

I saw his little pout.  Ironically, I was ruining this trip by trying to capture a keep sake of how great it had been, which even in mind I recognized as "All Or Nothing Thinking" AGAIN...

Fast forward to a week later, when after trimming myself some bangs I attempted to taking another self-pic.  I guess I didn't realize how many clicks had gone by and photos I'd checked and deleted.

"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself."  Again, I felt my heart hitting the floor of my stomach.

"It's not that I don't like them," I white-lied, "It's that I just want to look my best, and that's not my best smile."  What stupid lesson was I teaching?  And why?  Just to try to "keep up with the Joneses" of women who have lost all the baby weight and still look like they are in high school?  I've been through this with myself already!

Looking at myself in that digital preview screen I saw a mother that was teaching her son to expect way too much of himself and to not settle for less than his own best version of perfect.  That was not what I wanted.

"I'll take your picture, Mommy."

"OK."

I handed him my camera and smiled, knowing the lighting from his angle wasn't very bright and that I wasn't even facing the right way.  But I smiled big and brightly for my little boy.

A hug and a thank you later he said  "Your welcome, Mom.  Now can we go play scooters?"

It isn't enough to just not have beauty magazines on display in your home or be careful with the media you let in.  It isn't enough to just tell your daughters they are beautiful regardless of their coloring or size.  Our boys need to hear it too.  It isn't enough to just not talk about how you feel fat or want to lose a couple pounds when you around the kids.  We need to be examples.  We need to feel happy and recognize our beauty. We need to watch our actions.  We need to smile big, laugh hard and enjoy and capture the moments for what they are, not because of how good we look in a picture.
Most of all we need to remember we are ALWAYS teaching something because our little ones are ALWAYS watching.

I love these unedited pictures and thanks, Michael, for that last one.

Love, Eva

A Perfect-Enough Fit

I went to the temple recently and had a minor clothing fiasco.  In case you don't know, temples are places of worship for Latter-Day Saints.  We enter in Sunday dress, but change into white clothing inside for the actual meeting.  (The white clothing represents purity and reminds us of Jesus Christ's atonement, that allows us all to be clean from sin.)  While in the women's locker room ready to change I realized I had forgotten to check what clothes I had in my bag.  I did have white clothes, but not my more comfortable outfit.  The only ones in my bag were the ones I purchased when I first got married, about 20 lbs ago.  

I knew my husband was getting changed in the men's locker room and would be waiting for me in the chapel.  I also knew that unless I fit into the clothes I wouldn't get to attend the meeting with him.  It had been months since we had had an opportunity to attend a meeting like this together so I decided to go for it and do my best to make the fitted blouse and skirt wearable.  I won't go into all the  details, but suffice it to say I got it on.  The skirt was fine, although definitely up around the highest, smallest part of my waist (think Urkel.)  The shirt's zipper was an about an inch and a half from completely closing...I did my best to keep my back to the wall. LOL  

I didn't let that stop me though.  I wanted to be there in that meeting to learn and be uplifted and I wanted to be there for my husband.  Was my outfit tight and super unflattering?  Yes.  But that's OK.  It was a perfect-enough fit.  I had modest white on, and that was the only real requirement.  And I was grateful I had that clothes!  I didn't have to look like a cover model.  I was able to attend the service and be there with my husband.  The fit got the job done and as a result I got my job done of getting to be in the temple, with my husband and serve.

My hubby and I recently celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary, which is why going to the temple was so important to us.  We were married in a temple.  But we are kind of an odd couple, because we are very different.  In fact, when we announced our engagement some people were surprised.  We didn't exactly hang out with the same crowd.  We didn't have the same hobbies.  One of our first fights was about how he could clean better than I could (Yes, newly-engaged Eva actually complained about that...)    

 I was raised in a loud, crazy, affectionate Hispanic home.  He had a more reserved, mid-west upbringing.  I grew up hearing my parents blast Queen, ABBA, Kansas and Elton John.  He grew up listening to records of classical music played by world renown musicians...none of which I can name, though I do recognize their pictures from their cameo appearances on Sesame Street.

  I would choose a witty comedy over an action-flick any night, but thankfully I did learn how to appreciate explosions and gunfire so we can enjoy movies together.  I love books but usually get distracted when I try to read.  Luckily Chad is great at reading aloud and read ALL the Harry Potter books aloud to me, even with ALL my questions, since I can't remember what happened a page ago and he can remember what happened 3 books ago.

  

But we disagree on important stuff too.  There are times after a long day at work he wants to have a calm night, home as a family.  I whine and then tend to want to order pizza and turn even an evening home into a party.  There are times I think he's too strict.  There are times he thinks I'm too lenient.  He doesn't want the kids to get hurt but I want to let them climb the trees and act like the monkeys they are...but then I forget to watch them.  I want to let the kids play and get messy.  He's sometimes more worried about the mess, probably because he knows he will be cleaning up more of it than I will because I will have become distracted by the next fun thing I'd rather be doing.

But we've found ways to make it work.  He's incredibly good at saying he's sorry.  Seriously.  He could give a seminar on it.  I need to work on that more.  If he ever does a seminar on apologizing I will definitely attend.  I am very good at forgiving though.  And at wanting to try again.  And at giving amazing back rubs, so we work things out.  Our love for each other outweighs everything else.

Are we a perfect fit though?

Maybe it sounds terrible to say no.  But I would be lying if I said yes, just like anyone else who believes they are "perfect" for someone else.  No matter what, people are different and will disagree about something.  If you think "perfect" is never fighting, good luck!  What matters is how you disagree.  I love seeing older couples differ in opinion but just smile and go on anyway.  It only gets them so ruffled and then it's over.  They don't let it interfere with their job of being married, of being together.  They are together regardless of how they fit because they love each other.

 We are what I call a Perfect-Enough Fit.  We've learned how to tolerate most of what annoys us about the other, and just let it go.  I can get over the fact that he leaves the fingernail clippers out on the bathroom sink instead of putting them back in the cupboard.  Definitely.  Especially when he overlooks the laundry I get behind on, even when the mound of clothes I've "forgotten" is visibly taking over our bedroom.

 Even the bigger challenges we've faced (some of which I haven't even written about because they are too personal) are mountains we are moving shovel by shovel, day by day, as we work on growing closer to each other.  To be completely honest, even though we just had a disagreement last night, I think we are finally hitting our Honeymoon Phase!    I never felt like we had that happy part early on in our marriage because I was such a crazy woman from the beginning.  The birth-control I took early on threw my moods all over the place and then a year later babies started coming and again my hormones were all out of whack.  But now, 2 years after the last one, I'm starting to feel like myself again and act like the Eva he dated, albeit smarter and more mature (hahaha!)

I guess what I'm trying to say (or write) is that sometimes "perfect" is just showing up.  It's getting the job done.  And there's nothing wrong with that.  That's great.  It's not about never having different opinions.  I'm happier that we can disagree and get past it than I would be if we just never disagreed at all.  I'm glad I have a husband that has an opinion and will let me speak mine.  I'm glad we've found our own ways to compliment each other's personalities.

  And like that white shirt and skirt that still allowed me to attend the temple, even though it didn't fit absolutely perfectly, I am so grateful I have my marriage.  It's not always flattering to see myself as a wife or mother, it doesn't always bring out my best side.  But with the Savior's help I can keep working on myself and my relationships.  Chad and I are a Perfect-Enough Fit and there is still room to grow.  And I hope I get to do that for many more years to come.

'Till Tomorrow!  Luv, Eva