Mom-Prayers

In my entryway, I have a quote from Abraham Lincoln, "I remember my mother's prayers and they have followed me. They have clung to me all my life." I don't think there is any kind prayer the Father hears that is more powerful than a faithful mother's prayers.

That being said, I have really struggled with the whole consistency thing with family prayer.  3 weeks on, 2 months off. One week on, 3 years off. I think a lot of people are like that, but not as bad. We just keep trying, though. We have prayer and scriptures at night before everyone goes to bed. Somedays, we are so tired by that point, it feels like we can't walk or talk anymore, my DH and I just spin in circles on the stained carpet slobbering and yelling. So I had to come up with an alternate prayer-plan. (PS, I am not getting the kids up at 6:30 to read before everyone leaves for the day. At this point,  I am way too lazy and if you think I would ever wake B&B up on purpose, you are crazy...... however, this is subject to change upon desperation.)

So this is the answer for me: Before each lovely leaves for school in the morning, we have a quick little Mom-Prayer at the door with their backpack on.  It is something that has magically been really easy for me to be consistent with. They have to go to school and they have to go out the front door, so my variables are always the same! The thing I love about it is the personal nature of these prayers. They get to hear what I pray for them individually, and they get to see how important they are individually.

This is the time when I pray that they will remember the spelling words we have worked on. I pray that they will have the courage to stand up for what is right. I pray that they will remember to treat someone sitting alone like Jesus would. I ask that they will know what to do if someone is bullying them or someone else. I pray that they will understand what their teacher teaches them in math, and everyday, I pray that the Holy Ghost will let them know if they are in danger, and that He will tell them what to do. I pray that they will remember all day that I love them and believe in them, then I tell Heavenly Father how grateful I am that I was given that child.

There are many mornings, when any combination of those prayers and others, are asked in 20 seconds or less so we don't miss the bus, but they are said. (In full disclosure, there are a few days days when I yell at them to say their prayers ON the bus.) But usually, we pray in the quiet of the morning at the front door with our backpacks and coats on, just before my good-bye kiss.

I wanted to share this with the few of you who will read this, because it has been an answer to my Other-Prayers. I asked the Father to help me find a way to pray with my kids that works with my craziness and willful opposition to routine.  Maybe it will work for you too.

BTW, you don't have to be perfect to get revelation and protection from Heavenly Father for your kids. I think you just have to have a Mom-Heart when you ask. As Abraham Lincoln said, Mom-Prayers prayers DO follow our children. They protect them, give them clarity, and build their faith.

Have the best week and don't give up prayer-trying! Anything is better than nothing!

Radioactive

Yesterday, I went to the hospital and took my radioactive iodine pill. That is what you take with thyroid cancer  instead of general radiation. The thyroid cells absorb iodine so they attach the radiation to iodine, it gets absorbed by the thyroid cells left over after the thyroidectomy, and kills them. I didn't really want to do it, but I have to have a body scan anyway and the radiation will show up on the scan if there are any other areas of concern. I feel fine, a little tied maybe from being off my thyroid pills for a couple weeks. You have to be hypothyroid when you get the radiation pill. Don't really understand why. Don't really care, just ready to move on. I have been very indifferent about everything, I think it is a depression or something from being hypothyroid. I'm also starving, I can see how you could gain weight with an underproducing thyroid.

In some ways, even without my thyroid pill, I think I feel better than I did before surgery. I don't know what it was doing, but I am functioning on less sleep better than I could before. Or maybe it is because my babies are 3 and 4 now. Of course, they still stay up with me until midnight most nights. They are at that age where they can't get through the day without a nap , but won't nap until 5:00, the witching hour. I need to get a grip on that situation. 

I can't be around my kids for 4 days. I am locked in my room now listening to them play with my 13 year old. She is amazing with them. They love her so much. It is adorable to listen to them giggling while she tricks them into getting dressed. It is also torture to not be able to squeeze on them. Bob is taking them to his mom's for the weekend. They don't know I am in here, or they wouldn't stay away. 

It is funny how you take contact with your kids for granted. I got to kiss Trev and Whit but they had to leave quickly. I wanted them to stay and I wanted to hold them. But every other day I do it mindlessly and don't realize what a gift that simple thing is. I have to keep my glands functioning and I woke up with dry eyes so I got on the computer to find something to make me cry. I watched Diane Sawyer's interview with Jaycee Dugard and cried and cried at the pictures of her mom looking for her. Not being able to hold her for 18 years. A hug is such a gift, and most of the time we do it so mindlessly we don't feel it or even remember it. 

My cancer is gone, we assume, but in quiet, alone moments, like the shower the last two mornings, my mind wonders about it being somewhere else. Anywhere else would be significantly more dangerous and frightening. When I was young, I always thought everyone could be cured, but I know better as an adult. I know it's dramatic, but every once in a while, I think about it anyway. I'll think about it every time I go in for a scan for the rest of my life. 

I don't have many regrets here, but I would regret not being more patient with my kids, and more understanding. I'd regret not listening and I'd regret enforcing the fact that I am the mother so I get to be right, even if I'm not. I am so good at holding babies and closing my eyes and breathing them in and giggling at their voices, but not as good at absorbing my big kids. Watching THEM in wonder. It is harder for me to appreciate the character they show and value it because I just expect it. And I would regret not holding them more, and tickling them and tucking them in. 

I used to lay with them at night and sing Dolly Parton's "Jolene" or  give them the creeps with "Poison Ivy". As soon as I am not radioactive, I'm going to start again, because even if cancer never comes back, we could be separated by something else, like growing up, and I don't want to wish I had loved them more, or better.

Thyroid cancer has given me a few unexpected gifts and insights. Or perhaps, God has given me a few unexpected gifts and insights. As always, He has everything under control. So I'm just going to go with it.

Thyroid Journal Entry

I still feel great. My incision is healing nicely. It has quite a bit of scar tissue still but the bumpiness is a little better and the redness is calming down. I go to the endocrinologist on the 11th to talk about radioactive iodine and I'm going to see if there is a way to avoid it. Radiation gave me the cancer in the first place and I don't want any more, but I'll do whatever we decide. My ENT says it is controversial right now but he would do it since there was another small cancer spot starting to grow that they found from the pathology. I'm just going to throw out big words like "Pathology" now and then so I sound medically informed and a little cool. They may be used in the wrong context, I'm hoping you don't know.

The effects of not having a thyroid haven't been that bad. A few days after having the thyroidectomy, the extensions of my mammary glands (that means nipples, I don't really want to talk about this, but if someone is going through this also and finds my blog I want to give support and couldn't find much about it online), anyway, they hurt for a while but it went away. 

One day I forgot to take my thyroid pill and the next day I was a wreck. My whole body ached and I was an emotional mess. I wonder how many mental issues and depression are caused by an under active thyroid. I laid in bed and cried and was crazy and hurt all day.

I have some slighter mood swings now and then. I'll just feel like crying. I think before I had the thyroid out I was feeling symptoms of imbalance and was little crazy then also. I would flip out on the kids so quickly. I was also more aggressive and sometimes felt like I was running over people more than usual (I'm probably a little bossy by nature, I mean, I am bossy). 

Ok, that's all for now. Except for sometimes I am really hungry too. So bring me some food. Cause I'll eat it. But no onions. And I am so tired, but sometimes I am not tired and feel better than I did before. Yah, I'm all over the place.

 This was a couple hours after surgery. There were little spots all around the incision, even to my shoulders where I am guessing they had tacked the skin back or something for surgery.

 Two Days after surgery.

 10 days after surgery. When I took the tape off, most of that was just dried blood. The skin was really tender and red underneath. I took it off at two weeks.

Two Weeks after surgery. It was really bumpy. There was also a string sticking out from the inside stitches. The doctor had to pull on it and cut it and it was not fun. It feels almost like there is a long piece of cartilage running the length of the incision.

3+ Weeks after Surgery, today. You can't tell from this picture, but it sticks out little, I am told it is still swollen and that it will go down. It also still feels like the scar tissue or whatever is cartilage.

The Post Without a Moral, Almost.

There is a lot of funny going on around here lately.

Like when when the whole family was driving around during Christmas break and Blake started crying because Trevor, 10, took his nose and wouldn't give it back. I told Trevor he already had a nose and didn't need Blake's, so he gave it back. Blake's cry turned into a grateful whimper and he said, "Thanks Treb."

Rilee and Trevor have been having a blast this week making winter camp fires in the backyard. I'm probably going to regret that.

Speaking of regrets, I thought I was so cool because I was totally going to follow the "Asking Jane" protocol about iPods and phones. No phone until 16, no texting until 18, and no Ipods until 14. But somehow, I gave into peer pressure and now everyone here has an iPod and Rilee, almost 13 got a phone! We had a deal that if she got one she could only call me. I added to the list her dad and the Grandma who arm wrestled me and won to get her the phone. The Ri asked if she could just have one friend to text. I agreed because I like the friend and her mom is strict like me, she doesn't have a phone. So Rilee comes home today begging for two more of her friends to be able to text her. Being a mom is hard. She has never really had a group of friends until this year and WE ARE SO EXCITED! But I'm also very cautious about everyone having access to her all the time. What am I doing? It is all spinning out of control! I hope I am not making a mistake. She is a great kid, so does she deserve to have a phone because she is, or is she a great kid because she is so sheltered? THAT is the question.

I found a magical fairy called the "Flylady". Do you know about her? She is crazy and distracted and her house used to be CHAOS like mine, so she understands my problems, and she magic-ed a way to keep our houses clean! And so I am figuring a few things out I didn't know and couldn't do before. I was doing great all through the surgery, then Christmas vacation hit and when the kids went back to school on Wednesday, I literally cried because of the mess they left me in. I called my BFF and she came right over and pretty soon I had HER crying while she was folding my clothes. It was a bad day. But my dear love came home last night and fixed a bed and put in a light and started putting more shelves in all my closets, which he finished tonight before he finished my baseboards in the living room. Swoon, he just made everything better, enough that I can see the light again. Plus also BFF cleaned and organized my master bedroom closet for me. I was just going to throw in a match and shut the door.

So a day after one of the worst in recent years, I am at peace again. NOTE: I am noticing a little imbalance now and then from the thyroidectomy/hormone pill situation. You should keep that in mind for a while.

Well, the boys are on my bed with some glow sticks they found. They are fighting over who's is the grandpa and then they are cutting each other up with them, so I need to get off and laugh and stop the pending fights. Wait, now the glow sticks are reindeer antlers, and they are fighting over who is Santa and who is not flying the sleigh the right way and how Santa is out of presents.

Aren't you glad to have a post from me that DOESN'T have a moral to the story? And no order? I know my kids will be. Rilee told me I ruin all the movies because I point-out or create life lessons from them so then every time she watches it again she thinks about the lesson, and it ruins the movie. I can't help it, I'm a teacher, without a degree. And that is why I should have finished college, and THAT is now the lesson to this post.

All That Really Matters

Well, I have been having an adventure these past few weeks and it was called, "Thyroid Cancer".  This is the incision where they took my thyroid out. My kids say it looks like an old lady's mouth. Because this was a shot to get a good laugh out of all this, I drew the face of my alter-ego, "Grandma Cybil", who is a chain smoker from New Jersey.

Also, Grandma Cybil is a man's lady. I'm sure you got that.

I have had a lot of cool experiences the last few weeks. Among them is the sure knowledge that our Heavenly Father lives and loves us more than we can know here. Rather than muddy that message, I won't talk about anything else, it's all that really matters.

This is How it Goes Down

The Keys to the Wild Side

I have a problem and its name is "I can't find my keys for three days". I usually lose my keys three times a day, but never once for three days. I have looked everywhere and after several heart-felt prayers, with really good life or death reasons about why I need help finding my keys, I have come to the conclusion that the Lord is not going to enable my habit of careless key-keeping anymore. I think he is letting me feel the consequences of irresponsibility. That, or Brock and Blake have magically disappeared them, and not even divine intervention can help me now.

Because losing my keys is a daily occurrence, I have found them in strange places before, like the storage room downstairs, and in the bathroom cupboard with the central vacuum hose. They have been  in the laundry basket and once while being buried in the back yard. But I have gutted and cleaned the entire house. And nothing.

Ok, here is what you are thinking, "Doesn't she have an extra set?" No. I lost it 8 years ago when I first got the dang car and because I had another set I didn't worry about finding them. Plus also I'm dangerous, a rebel. I like living with the thrill of knowing if I lose my keys, it means I don't drive anymore.

But, while I was putting on Brock's jams tonight, I got a lead.  I asked him if he knew where my keys got lost and he said in the berry bush. Then Blake agreed. So I went outside to the berry bush he pointed to and he pantomimed Blake holding the keys over the giant, overgrown bush of some kind and did Blake starting to fall then dropping them in the bush! Knowing I could believe Brock because he is now 4 and trustworthy, at 11:00pm we put the truck lights on the shrub, and I set to work chopping down the bush to find the keys (which will cost $160 to have re-made)!

Now I have an ugly stump in my front yard. And no keys.

What got chopped off.

What is left.

Update: The keys were located this morning in a basket buried in folded little boy pajamas.  I'm sorry, berry bush.