That one time I had to beg

So I normally don't beg.  I don't ever need to.  Usually my husband just goes along with any hare-brained idea I come up with.   That wasn't the case this time though.  We just switched out my daughter's twin size bed and her frame is still pretty good.  My husband asked what to do with it so I came up with an idea.   He was so skeptical and pretty much said it couldn't be done.  So I just let it go for a bit.  But I can't fully let the idea go.  It just festers inside me and makes me itch to get down and dirty with wood, nails, and screws.   I want to work on this project so much.
 
Okay, the other problem has been that every time I come up with an idea like this, my husband, the ever so helpful person he is (and I love him for it!) jumps in and does the project for me.   I have clear cut ideas that morph into what my husband sees as his vision for the project.   Normally this doesn't bother me.   I love that my husband is willing to do projects for me, especially big projects.  
This time I want this project to be mine.  I want to be able to work on it.  I want to feel the tools in my hands.  

I told  my husband what I wanted.  I also told him that I have looked at a lot of ideas and I know how to do what I want.  I said that I have a vision in my head of what I want.   Here is what some of our conversation (through text while he is at work) looked like.   Me:  I need you to cut the pieces and I will put the pieces together.  Please?  Just let me have a project that is mine?

No response yet.   Hmmm . . .  not looking so good.

Me:  I have lots of ideas, most are just pipe dreams.  I know I can do this one though.

Yep, I was begging him to not jump in and take over.  I want this project.  I don't want to go into all the reasons why I want this project but here is a little part.   I am finally moving out of a depression that has severely limited my ability to accomplish much of anything.   I have been picking up pieces of my life as I go and I've mostly put stuff together.  However, I have a lot of dreams, ideas for projects.   These dreams never become reality.   When it comes right down to it, I have let myself down.   I get to the part where I can put a dream into motion and I stop.  Fear, lack of motivation, etc. ruled my world at that point.   I hate failure and I worried I would just fail at making my dreams become reality.  I want to do something, to accomplish something, to feel my contribution is worth something.   Also, the sun is shining today, the air is crisp, and I feel good.   I am confident in my own abilities today.  I know I can accomplish this huge project.  

So after I told him what I want to do, and I was specific on what I want his help with, this is his response.  "Ok, we can do this."  

My heart leaped with joy.   I think my step just got lighter.   He wasn't skeptical this time.  He did not doubt my ability.  He listened, and he responded in the affirmative.   Yay!  Now it is time to get down and dirty with this project.    I cannot reveal the project until I am done.  What if it really doesn't work?  I don't want to embarrass myself here, especially after I had to beg for a project of my own!  So stay tuned for pictures and more from this project.  I hope to be done soon!   Now I just need my husband to come home so he can help cut the pieces so I can start piecing them together.

Now, lest anyone think less of my husband because I had to beg for a project I must say this.   My husband has been nothing but supportive of my dreams.   He has been supportive as I finished law school, started my own law practice, bought a photo studio, and started as a consultant for Norwex.  He has helped me get the photo studio set up in a new place.  He was my grunt work man.   I have come up with ideas, such as a lemonade stand for props and he has put it into motion for me.  He has gathered the necessary materials and he has put everything together for me.   I just wanted this one to be my project, one where I could do a lot of the work.  I want to own the project.  Like I mentioned earlier, I want to get down and dirty with the materials for this project.   So, while my husband is very supportive and does a lot of things for me, I am grateful that this one time I will be able to see my dreams become reality.   Any maybe, just maybe I can kick this depression in the rear end and send it packing for good!

My heart is so full today

My daughter and I had appointments at my photography studio last night.  While we were there Amber was hungry so I allowed her to walk to the grocery store which is just across the corner from the studio.  She has done this before successfully so I wasn't worried.  

On our way home after the appointments, Amber shared the following experience with me.

She was crossing the street on a green light for her, red going the other way.  She got to the middle of the street.  As she approached the middle of the street she heard a voice in her head telling her to stop right there.  She said she also heard honking but couldn't see any cars close by.   She stopped.  Right as she stopped, a truck whizzed past her, just about a foot in front of her.   She was so scared but so very grateful she listened to that still small voice.

She told me there was a man in a wheelchair who then crossed the street with her, which helped her feel safer.  He had seen the whole thing.   He asked her why she had stopped in the middle of the street.   She then explained to him about the still small voice and how it is something that the Lord has blessed her with to help her in her life.  

I am so grateful that she listened to that still small voice. I do not even want to think about what would have happened had she not listened.  It seems crazy to stop in the middle of the street, but I'm glad she did.   Experiences like this will only build her testimony.  These experiences will help her understand the spirit, the still small voice, in ways a lot of adults  never understand.  

I am also so grateful that every child of God is important to him, it does not matter how young, old, big, or small a person is.  Each person is loved.   My daughter is 11 and the Lord knew she needed help at that moment.   He was protecting her even at her young age.   My heart is overflowing right now.  I am so grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who has given us the means to be guided and protected in this life while we are away from him.  

Now, I know that there are many times this situation would have, and has turned out differently.  I cannot say why it is different.  I can only speak to this particular situation.  I do know how devastating any other outcome would have been to me and my family.   I also know that when bad things happen, it does not mean the Lord does not love that person.  In this situation Amber had a choice, listen and stop or continue going forward.  

Agency is a powerful thing.   We all have agency, the ability to make choices for ourselves, be it good or bad.   It makes my heart happy to know Amber is listening when we teach the gospel in our home, at church, and other places.   Like I said earlier, I am grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who guided an 11 year old child to safety.   I hope she always remembers this.  

Cell Phone and Tablet pocket made from old jeans

I have struggled with the exasperating question of where to put cell phones and tablets while they are charging.   Quite a few months ago as I was perusing the internet, I found an idea.   So I set out to create cell phone pockets from the already made pockets on a pair of jeans.   It so happened that we had a pair of my son's jeans that were no longer serviceable.  I cut off the pockets, sewed handles on them, and I had cell phone pockets.   The hardest part was sewing the handles on.  This was actually very easy.  

This is what I ended up with.   A pocket I could hang on a hook on the wall.   We have a surge protector attached to the wall just above this to house the plugs for the phones, and such.

I was gathering materials to make a few of these in a larger size for our tablets.   My girls wanted the legs cut off the jeans that had huge holes in the knees so they could have shorts.   I put my projects on hold and cut off the legs of their jeans.   I then had a bright idea.  The legs of the jeans I had just cut off looked to be the size I would need for a tablet.  What if I folded the leg up and sewed the bottom?  It would make the perfect pocket.   So I folded up one of the legs.  When I looked at it, I realized there were two pockets without having to sew the bottom.   So I set out to make a tablet pocket that would hold two tablets.  This would be perfect.  

So, here's how I made the tablet pockets.

1.  With the pant legs right side out, I folded over the top raw edge and top stitched it into place.
2.  I measured enough lace to go around the top edge.  I sewed it on so it hung over the top edge.
3.  I then folded over the top edge again and top stitched it into place again.

Here is the top part with the lace sewn on.  

4.  Once that step was done I turned the pant leg inside out.

This is what it looked like at this step.

5.  I then folded up the edge I had top stitched with lace.  This created two pockets: One in front, one in back.

Pant leg is folded up creating two pockets.

6.  I then stitched the front portion of the pocket to the back of the pocket at each side.  This will prevent it from becoming unfolded and dropping the contents all over.

7.  After I finished step 6, I zigzag stitched the top middle pieces together along the existing seam. 

8.  I then cut along the existing seam leaving about an inch or so on each side.  This created the handles.

9.  On each side of the hole, I stitched the handles vertically to give it more support.

I hadn't cut this one enough.  I only left an inch or two uncut on each side.

This is after I sewed the handles.  I also decided to zig zag again.  The whole top piece was zig zag stitched together.  

 10.   The tablet pocket was done.  I then added the tablet.

Yay, it fits.  Perfect size.  

11.  The tablet even fits when it is in the protective case.  It is a tighter fit, but it fits.
12.  Then I hung it on the wall next to the cell phone pocket.  

Only one tablet in the pocket for now.  I was using the other one for pictures of this project!

Now the tablet pocket is finished.  It is hanging up and waiting for the second tablet to join the first.   Here is another picture just to show you what this area looks like.

I have the cell phone pocket and the tablet pocket.  Above these pockets is a surge protector for all of the plugs.

When I first saw the idea for the cell phone pocket the tutorial said to hang the cell phone pocket on the plug for the phone.  I did not think that would be safe so that is why I attached the surge protector to the wall above the pockets.

I am so excited.   I have loved the cell phone pocket and I am sure I am going to love the tablet pocket.

Looking back: Thoughts on Postpartum depression

Have you ever worn sunglasses inside?  That is what my whole world looked like.   I didn't realize how dark and bleak everything looked.  I felt I had lost control of my life.  I didn't want to get out of bed.  My migraines were the worst they have ever been.  I tried to do different things but soon gave up because I had no desire to do anything.  I had to withdraw from all of the cases I was working on.   If I couldn't take care of my basic needs, I couldn't take care of others.   It was such a devastating blow to me.  

I recently saw something to the effect that if we change our attitude then happiness will follow.   This is not always true.   I couldn't change how I felt.  I didn't even know how to change how I felt.  I tried, but it felt like such an insurmountable task.  I didn't know what was wrong.  One day one of my friends posted an article on Facebook about postpartum depression.  I read the article and recognized a lot of the same symptoms in myself.  I decided I needed help. But I was embarrassed. I didn't want to admit that 6 months later I was having difficulty.  In reality I had been feeling this all summer long.  I finally made it to the doctor in early September 2013.  She asked how I was doing.  I didn't say fine because I knew I wasn't fine, but I told her I was okay.  She looked at me and basically told me I was lying.  Looking at the questionnaire I had filled out she said, "Looking at this I can pretty much say you are not okay."  I cried.  She gave me a prescription for antidepressants.  

My world suddenly became brighter.  I finally saw how low I had gotten.  I felt great for a little while. There are still days I struggle.  I had to limit my activities.  I gave up PTA, work, and other activities.  I gave up learning how to knit.  I needed time to take care of myself and my family.   I needed time.   I did not know how hard this would be.   I was racked with guilt every time I thought about giving up on PTA.   I knew they had been relying on me to do things that never got done.  I also felt awful about giving up on my clients.   Well, I never gave up on them, I just was not able to help them at the time.  I also felt guilty every time I thought about my children and what I could not do for them.  My oldest was taking care of breakfast for the rest of the children.  She was trying to keep everything together.  I look at what she was doing and I feel guilty still.

Now a year later I still take anti depressants.  I don't need them every day.  I do recognize when I am sliding downward.   Those are the times I need to make sure I take the anti depressants to help me from sliding too far down.  It has been a year since starting medication.  I am not sure all of my children have recovered from that terrible time.  

Before experiencing depression, I did not understand it.  I thought like the quote I mentioned earlier that a mere change in attitude and perspective would help a person be happy.  I thought depression was something that could be fixed by a positive attitude.  I did not know how debilitating it could be.  I did not know it would be so hard to get out of bed, or even just to sit up.  I did not know how little energy was available, and that it would take all the available energy for the day just to get out of bed to use the bathroom.   I did not realize how hard it would be to shower, to get dressed, to eat, etc.  All of this takes energy that I found myself lacking.  I had not realized there was a difference between depression and extreme sadness.  I did not know that depression can change a person's vision, making a person unable to see the light.  
I also thought postpartum depression was where you want to harm your child.  I never wanted to harm my baby, or my other children.   Postpartum depression isn't always about wanting to harm yourself or your child.  It is about the inability to function at peak capacity, an inability to take care of yourself and others.  I am so grateful for the inspiration my friend had to post an article about postpartum depression when she did.   I know that when I was at my lowest, the Lord was there to help take care of things I couldn't do myself.  There were people who offered help, fed my family, and cleaned my house.  Postpartum depression can be a very lonely disease, even when there are people who offer support.  I am so grateful I found the help I needed.  I still have hard days but it is not nearly as bad as the summer of 2013.  I will forever be grateful for those who have stood by me during my lowest times and did not give up on me.  

The most difficult thing

The most difficult thing for me is to see my child as he is, not as I wish he was.   You see, before I started having children I had dreams and visions of what my children would be like.  My children would be respectful, smart, well behaved, musical, etc., etc., etc.   My oldest child seemed to be everything I dreamed of.  She is well behaved, musical, smart, etc., etc., etc.   She learned quickly to obey the rules.  I did not, and still do not, have much trouble with her.  She is responsible and trustworthy.  
But then I got to my third child, my first boy.   Everybody told me boys were different, they were more rambunctious, they had more energy.   So I was prepared for high energy.  I knew things would be different at my house.  But still I had dreams and aspirations for my child.  I still dreamed of a boy who learned to be respectful, follow the rules, and channel his energy into something productive.   Those dreams seemed to shatter as time went on.  As he got older the energy did not slow down.   The lessons on respect were not sinking in.   He was very impulsive and did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.  I had bottles of syrup, bags of flour, boxes of baking soda and baking powder dumped all over my floor.  My carpets were colored with food coloring.  
It has been just over 2 years since the original diagnosis, and just under 2 years with medication.   I still struggle.  There are things I know will not change.  So at this point the most difficult thing is to love him as he is instead of as I hope him to be.   I know I am far from perfect in this.   I have to work on this minute to minute.  When he doesn't respond the way I want him to I need to remind myself the most important thing is love.

DIY Laundry Soap

My friend, Cynthia came to visit awhile ago and she brought with her a recipe for laundry soap.  Even though I had seen multiple posts floating around Facebook about DIY laundry soap I never truly considered it before.  I had seen multiple recipes and some even for liquid laundry soap.   When Cynthia asked me if I wanted to do this, I was a little skeptical.

Despite my skepticism I was up for the challenge.  I was ready for  the long list of ingredients we would need and the difficult instructions for putting it all together.  I was pleasantly surprised to find out that this DIY laundry soap only needed four ingredients.   Plus, it sounded simple to put together.  

So we sent John to the store to gather the ingredients for us.   When John brought the ingredients home, I quickly realized the container I was planning to use was not going to be sufficient.  So I found an empty food storage bucket.    This actually worked very well.  

Here is the recipe we used.

1 box cleaning baking soda
1 box borax
1 small container oxi clean
2 bars fels naptha soap

I cannot for the life of me remember the size of the boxes.  I know what each one looks like and I know where to find it.   The hardest part of making this laundry soap was grating the fels naptha soap.  I just used my cheese grater.  After all, it is just soap and with a little water, and a run through the dishwasher my cheese grater was very clean.

It was very simple to put this all together. We emptied all contents from each of the boxes into the bucket.   We grated the fels naptha and added that to the bucket.  Then we picked up the bucket and shook it.   We shook the bucket until all ingredients were well  mixed.  It was so easy.   It only took about 5 minutes max from start to finish, not including time to get the ingredients.  

I have to say I was still a little skeptical about this soap.  But I tried it.   My white clothes came out brighter.   I didn't have any allergic reactions.   I have a large family which means we do a lot of laundry.  This concoction lasted far longer than any store bought laundry soap thus making it a cheaper option than store bought laundry soap.

Yes, I am that parent . . .

I am that mother who . . .

-- turns a blind eye to poor behavior from my children.  (It is a pick your battle thing.  What am I willing to fight over each day?)
-- laughs quietly sometimes when my children misbehave, and then scolds.  (especially when my car gets painted yellow, and my child walks through the paint leaving footprints all over my driveway)
-- waits for a child to return before rushing out the door after him.
-- allows a child to learn the hard lessons in life on his/her own.
-- allows my child to fall asleep wherever they desire, even if it is the closet.  (Yes, I have children that have chosen to sleep in the closet rather than their bed.)
-- allows my child to run around in underwear instead of fighting him to get dressed.
-- allows another child to go places with unruly, unbrushed hair.
-- chooses to stay home rather than let my children terrorize another home.
-- gives my children everything they could want, even if it means picking up the 18 month old when he cries, hugging and kissing the 11 yo, or just spending time with the children.  (My children need to know I am here for them, and they get that reassurance often.)
-- allows my children watch TV so I can get a few moments to myself to regroup.  (PBS and Netflix are great things in my home)
-- makes my children finish their chores before going out to play (though chores are minimal each day and tailored to each child's ability)
-- allows my children to walk down the street on their own.  
-- allows my children to bake cookies on their own.  (Messes ensue, but I survive the mess somehow)
-- allows my children to develop new talents on their own schedule.  (I cannot force them, as much as I want to.  They need to decide when and how they will learn)
-- enjoys the quiet hours with the moon after the children are all in bed and asleep.