Another Thing I'm Not Good At

We have already established a plethora of things I'm not good at. Let's review. I don't cook well. I can't sew, knit, crochet, or do crafts of any sort. I can't draw or paint. I can't sing. My handwriting is abysmal. I'm not an athlete or a musician. I have no idea about gardening, auto mechanics, or interior design. I am both directionally and technologically challenged, which means I can't find my way to most locations whether physical or virtual.

Indeed, my skill set is woefully limited.

And guess what? In the past two days I've discovered yet another thing I totally suck at. I know what you're thinking: Could there really be anything else? But yes, oh yes, there is.

I am really, really, really not good at being sick. Really. The problem is, I have so little experience with it. I am almost never sick. I attribute that good fortune to having five children who, over the years, have coughed, sneezed, and puked on me enough times that my immunity to illness is nearly 100%.

You'll notice I said "nearly." It's obviously not quite 100%. On Sunday I came down with the nastiest little virus. I can't remember ever feeling this ill. I went to church because we were teaching the poetry of Isaiah in our Sunday School class, and ooooh how I love the poetry of Isaiah, but I came home immediately afterward and went straight to bed. Without going into the disgusting details, let's just say that between stomach issues, a raging headache, a fever, and an aching body, I was quite out of sorts. I seriously don't know how people who get sick regularly do it. I whined and whined, but my temperature just climbed higher and my body just ached more. It was a sad night.

Then came Monday. In most jobs, when you're sick, you can call in, and someone else will somehow do your work. That is not the case with my job. I can call in, yes, but it means my students, who paid tuition, will not have the class they paid for. I might have stayed home yesterday regardless, except I'm already canceling class this coming Monday when I'll be in Indiana. So I dragged myself out of bed, and without touching my hair or make-up (now you know how sick I was), I pulled on some sweats and went to school. I instructed my students to keep their distance, and they happily obliged. Between classes, I slept in my car. No kidding. I set my phone alarm for my next class and passed out in the back seat of my little car.

Yep, I positively suck at being sick. And it transcends the physical. Keep in mind my chronic anxiety disorder that tends to specify itself to fear of fatal disease. I'm not sure I've ever blogged about this specifically, but anyone who knows me well knows all about this. Those of you who don't, well let's just say that I've wasted a goodly amount of time in my short life worrying uncontrollably over various fatal diseases that, in the moment, I'm certain I have. In reality, I'm the healthiest person I know; however, I've been emphatically convinced on countless occasions that I have any number of terminal diseases.

So you can only imagine what happens to my delicate psyche when I really do get sick. Uh huh. Exactly. Since I happened to have a backache along with all the other above-mentioned symptoms (really, every muscle in my body ached, including my back), I decided I must have kidney cancer. Because that makes perfect sense, right? You see, anxiety is never rational. If it were rational, it wouldn't be anxiety. So not only was my body sick, but my mind was raging out of control with thoughts of leaving my children without a mother! Help!

I can write this today because I am both physically and mentally recovered. Well, mostly recovered. I still feel weak, not quite my energetic self, but better than yesterday and oh so much a better than the day before. This morning as I was getting ready for school, Gerald remarked, "You're putting on make-up. That's a good sign." Yes, good.

And so, dear friends, we have discovered yet another thing I totally suck at. I totally suck at being sick. I'm sure we'll discover more. Stay tuned.

A Fierce Mom

Before I became a mother, I declared that I wanted strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children. On several occasions since making that declaration, Gerald has reminded me of it. When each of our kids went through the temper tantrum stage, (you know, when they're somewhere between ages 2 and 3, and they so desperately want to do everything for themselves but can't possibly, and they know exactly what they want all the time only it changes second to second, and life becomes so frustrating and overwhelming that their only solution is to throw themselves down on the floor and kick and scream), Gerald would again remind me of my declaration. I wanted strong-willed, independent kids.

Now that our youngest is ten, it's easy for me to watch a three-year-old's fit with pure delight. "Wow," I think to myself. "What a beautiful tantrum!" I mean really, the child is demonstrating perfectly age-appropriate emotional development. Parents should rejoice! However, when I, myself, was the parent, the one carrying my child out of a store, my arms tightly circling his waist, his arms and legs flailing with every scream, well let's just say I didn't find it quite so "beautiful." As judgmental onlookers scowled at me with expressions of disgust, I wanted to throw myself down in a tantrum. I felt at times like the worst mom in the whole world. "Why can't I control this child?" I would ask. "You said you wanted strong-willed, independent children," Gerald would remind me. "And that is exactly what you got."

Thank goodness!

With wills of their own and the confidence to express their feelings without fear of punishment, they grew from tantruming toddlers into independent children and teens who had the courage to say no when faced with all sorts of undesirable temptations. Woo hoo! I couldn't be more proud. Yet, there is a flip side. With such independent spirits, they also felt able to make their own way in the world sooner than many kids do. I've observed families where the children stay close to home after graduating from high school. Many even continue to live at home as they attend college, work, or prepare for missions.

Not my children.

Each of them, one right after the other, made college plans early, worked hard through the summer following graduation, and took off immediately in the fall to begin the next chapter in their lives far away from home. Luke went to Whitman College, about five hours from Mt. Vernon. Both Shulamith and Isaiah went to Westminster, nine hours from Billings. Now we have Eli, who was my baby for seven years until we were blessed with Seth. The photo on this post is the one that will appear in the yearbook as his senior picture. Following his older siblings' example, he too feels ready to strike out on his own. On Oct. 23rd he will take the ACT exam, the first step in the application process for admission to BYU-Idaho in Rexburg, five hours away. Not only that, but Eli is also planning to submit his mission papers as soon as he can before turning 19 in March 2012. That is only 17 months from now, in case you're wondering.

Strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children. That's what I asked for, and that's what I got. I am thankful. I am so proud of each one of them, yet it pulls mightily at my heartstrings when they leave home at barely 18. I grieve every time. Over and over. A friend of mine, an older lady with no children of her own, once remarked: "Terrianne is a fierce mom." I have never felt more complimented. A fierce mom. Yes. Motherhood is not my sole vocation. I do some other things. I teach English classes. I exercise. I read. I shop. I travel. I socialize. I try to figure out new ways to look younger and thinner. I write a blog. However, none of these activities is remotely close in significance to my role as a mother. Nothing I do is more important, and nothing brings me more joy.

As I watch Eli prepare for next year, and I remember so clearly when he was Seth's age and we first moved to Billings, I wonder if I might alter my parenting strategy in some way, so when the time comes, Seth might stay home a little longer. Selfish? I know, but the thought has certainly crossed my mind. It's probably too late, though. At age 10, Seth already shows signs of being just like the others. He threw his share of toddler tantrums, and he now has no fear of expressing his opinions whether solicited or not. He's obviously not ready to face the world on his own, but he grows more independent every day.

"A fierce mom of strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children." You can put that on my tombstone when I die....that is, as long as you promise not to also put my birth date, unless you lie by at least 15 years. Glad we got that straight. Whew!

You're gonna name her what??

I have always liked unusual names. I always thought it would be cool to go through school and never meet another person with your same name. So I always assumed I would give my children very unusual names. Then, 25 years ago when we were expecting Luke, I read an article that shifted my view somewhat. The article claimed that while girls who grow up with highly unusual names do just fine, boys struggle. They are often made fun of; they feel like they don't fit in. They have low self-esteem. Yikes! This article was enough to scare me. I'd hate to burden my sons with self-esteem issues just to satisfy my own desires.

With our oldest two children, ultrasonography was not yet routine. We had to wait until they were born to know whether we had a boy or a girl. Consequently, parents went to the hospital with two names in mind. On the way home from the doctor's visit which confirmed we were expecting our first baby, we stopped by a store and purchased a book, 13,000 Unusual Baby Names. From this book, we would attempt to select our "girl's" name. It wasn't hard. I've seen couples labor (no pun intended) over this issue for months, unable to decide or agree. For us, it took about three seconds. Gerald opened the book randomly to the "S" section and declared, "Shulamith! It's Hebrew for peace." My response, "I love it. It's the most beautiful name in the world." I still think that, by the way. It was settled. If we had a girl, she would be Shulamith.

But, as you know, we had a boy first, a wonderful son. At some point during the pregnancy, I thought we ought to have a boy's name picked out, and my favorite soap opera at the time was General Hospital. A dashing young character on the show, wild and daring and romantic, was named Luke Spencer. I decided Luke would be a good name for a boy (since I had been sufficiently scared out of choosing an unusual name and possibly scarring my child for life), and Gerald was good with Luke too. As an aside, I watch GH only very rarely these days, but Luke Spencer is still there, and he's even hotter now than he was 25 years ago. People thought we chose the name Luke because it was Biblical, but no; it was really just from a soap opera.

Only seven months after Luke was born, I was pregnant once again. I expected another boy because it seemed like most people's first two children were the same sex, so I focused on a boy's name. Still afraid to use my unusual name book, we settled on Matthew. We think that's mildly ironic now since Shulamith's husband is named Mathew, not spelled exactly the same, but very close. I didn't dare hope it could be a girl, and I think I was the one most shocked when she was born. My first words: "Is it really a girl??" Gerald's reply: "It's Shulamith!" And so it was.

During both pregnancies, when people asked about names and we told them a girl would be Shulamith, they nearly always responded with something like, "You're gonna name her what??" We would assure them that it's very easy to pronounce and that once they got used to it, they would see that it's the most beautiful name in the world. Because you have to admit, it really is. So long as people don't try to shorten it (Grrrr!). Then it loses all its beauty.

Okay, so you might be wondering what prompted this particular rant today. It was my 1:15 Tues./Thurs section of WRIT 101. This particular course, while available to all, tends to attract mainly pre-nursing students, and that field is still predominantly female. In any given section of this course, I generally have say 18 women and maybe 3 men. In this particular section, that is exactly the case. Since it's early in the semester, I'm still struggling to learn the names of all my students. I have a lot. It takes a while. I'm pretty sure, however, that in this class, I will never succeed. Why? Let me just tell you a few of the names of the students in this class: Misty, Molly, Holly, Kylie, Kaylee, Ashley (2), Lindsey, Shelly, Staci, Lacey, Jamie, Katie, Kristie, and Kelsey. I'm dead serious. Oh yes, there's also a Jessica and a Samantha, and those two names I already know, but the others....it's positively hopeless! We all know that teachers who care learn their students' names. And I care. I really do. But I truly don't think I'm capable in this case. Fortunately, they are all very good-natured people who seem to think my struggle is quite entertaining.

My point is this. You may not want to choose your next daughter's name from the book 13,000 Unusual Baby Names (although I highly recommend it), but you might want to steer away from the names that end in the long-e sound. They have become an epidemic. I'm afraid that once she's past elementary school, your daughter will become one of the masses; no teacher will ever know her name again! Just a friendly warning. The ultimate decision is, of course, yours. And by the way, if I were to do over again, I'd definitely use my wonderful book to find better boys' names for my sons. I have a friend whose sons are named Crispin and Tavnir, and both are happy well-adjusted people with no adverse effects that I can see. I think the article I read was a bunch of nonsense.

Happy baby naming!

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in General Conference

One of my favorite essays is by Robert Fulghum and titled "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." I used to have it on a poster displayed in Seth's room until he decided he was way too old and sophisticated for such a "baby" wall hanging. It speaks of the very basic social decencies taught to 5-year-olds that, if embraced by all humankind, would undoubtedly transform the world. This past weekend was the semi-annual General Conference of my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As I listened to the conference talks, it occurred to me that right now, at this exact moment in my life, I could rephrase the title of Fulghum's essay to say

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in General Conference.

These are the things I learned:

Every individual is loved and important. Helpers are just as important as leaders. When we sacrifice in order to send our children on missions or to college, the blessings are great for both us and them.

Missionaries are needed everywhere. I should be preparing and saving now for two decades down the road when, as circumstances allow, I might be in a position to serve a full time mission. As an aside, I think that is a wonderful idea, except they really need to stop referring to these people as "senior" missionary couples. I'm pretty sure that even 20 years from now, I won't be too excited to be called a "senior." Nevertheless, I should be preparing!

As a parent, I am the most significant role model for my children, certainly the two teens and the 10-year-old, but perhaps even the two young adults to some extent. Being someone's primary role model is serious business. I should model nothing that I would not wish them to emulate. Wow.

The commandments are for my protection, not my restriction. They allow me to safely navigate my way though this earthly probation, unable to be caught by the temptations and snares that are everywhere.

Trees are like airplanes. And they are also like us. When trees experience adverse conditions, their growth slows down a bit. When airplanes experience turbulence, wise pilots slow down a bit until the turbulence has passed. When we experience periods of stress, sometimes it's best to slow down the pace of our lives a bit until the stress has passed. In stillness, we can be assured that, despite adversity, we are in the constant care of a loving Heavenly Father.

There are two lines of communication between us and our Father in Heaven, one personal and one through church leadership. We are entitled to both, and we need both.

Gratitude is always the best attitude.

I learned many other things as well, but these are the ones I remember most clearly.


Kindergarten was no doubt great, but All I Really Need to Know I Learned in General Conference.

Fall Fab Fun!

Last weekend, I spent a fabulous fall weekend in Rexburg, Idaho with several of my favorite people. It began Friday at 12:30 when I got out of class and began the 5-1/2 hour drive. You should know that driving is very low on my list of favorite things to do. More accurately, it doesn't even make the list. I do not like to drive. I've been spoiled over the years because Gerald does 99% of the driving on all our road trips. Thank heavens! I especially don't like to drive when I'm not sure where I'm going. Have I mentioned that I'm directionally challenged? Well, I am. I have no clue about north, south, east, or west (Isn't north up, like toward the sky?), and I find maps to be wholly incomprehensible. They pretty much resemble a bunch of Ramen Noodles on a page. The route to Rexburg from Billings is anything but direct. There are all sort of twists and turns, new highways to look for, etc. Gerald typed out clear and specific directions, but I still called him several times to make certain I was on track. I have been lost far too many times to ever trust myself.

Stopping only briefly in Bozeman to get food, I arrived in Rexburg around 6:00 p.m. My welcoming committee was comprised of Emma and Jase, waiting outside in the driveway with giant hugs. Mmmmm, I didn't realize quite how much I missed them until we were together again. As expected, it took a bit of time before Hanna would hang with me, but by the next day we were BFFs once again. In fact, in her quest for independence, she decided that only I was allowed to change her diapers and dress her. I loved that, by the way. She is fast approaching age 2 (just a couple more weeks), and how beautifully she has begun to express her will and let the world know that she has opinions too. She is absolutely perfect. Also perfect is 4-year-old Jase, who, among other things, reads like a 2nd grader. I'm not exaggerating. He was most excited to show off his new tattoo, something from Star Wars maybe? I can't remember. And lovely Emma was as sweet, smart, and beautiful as always.

About an hour later, Shulamith and Matt arrived. We snuck Lindsey out the door (so Hanna wouldn't notice) and headed out to dinner. At this point I need to express my huge appreciation to David, who spent much of his weekend home with the kids, while Shulamith and Matt and I took Lindsey out to play: restaurants, shopping, a movie, etc. What a good husband and father. What a good friend. Thank you, David. I used to be able to reciprocate when you guys lived in Billings. Not sure how I'll do that now.

Yes, it was a fabulous weekend, and of course, it came all too soon to an end. Shulamith and Matt and I intended to leave Rexburg at 1:00 when Lindsey and family went to church and go our separate directions, but we instead went to Jack in the Box and stayed for nearly two hours talking and eating. Should I really admit what I ate there? How do greasy deep-fried tacos, mozzarella sticks, and funnel cake sound? Uh huh, it was that good. The drive home was more enjoyable than the drive there because I bought a cord to connect the auxiliary port in my car to my phone so I could listen to my Pandora stations. If you haven't yet tried Pandora Radio, you really should. What could be better than a station that plays only your favorite songs and others like them, one after the other?

I arrived home at exactly 8:00 p.m. just in time to watch the season premieres of "Desperate Housewives" and "Brothers & Sisters." At commercial breaks, I caught up with both Eli and Seth and met Seth's new pet, a goldfish he won at Saturday Live. His name: Orange-head Fisher. Seth calls him Mr. Fisher for short.

Fall Fab Fun. It was simply amazing.

On Becoming a Young Man and Getting Married

Here are the latest two in the ongoing series of insightful thoughts from 10-year-old Seth:

"Mom! I just have to memorize all these Articles of Faith. If I don't, I'll never make it out of Senior Primary. I will never be a Young Man."

...later that day...

Seth: By the way, Mom, I don't think I'll ever get married.

Me: Why do you say that, Seth?

Seth: Because girls are just too hard,......especially YOU!

Is it today yet?

This has seriously been the longest week in history. I can't remember a week that d-r-a-g-g-e-d by quite as slowly as this one did. Why? Today, as soon as my classes are over, I will jump in my car and drive to Rexburg, Idaho. Ordinarily, this would not be all that thrilling. What is in Rexburg other than BYU-Idaho? Not that much.

Except.

Perhaps you remember that about two months ago, Lindsey and her family moved away from Billings. Where did they move? Yep, to Rexburg. Suddenly, this little town became high on my list of interesting places. So even though I really don't like to drive such distances (about 5-1/2 hours) by myself, and even though I'm a little tired because I was too excited last night to sleep (duh!), I'm counting on adrenalin to keep me going as I drive this afternoon.

Waiting in Rexburg will be Lindsey, David, Emma, Jase, and Hanna. When they left Billings, little Hanna was just starting to like me. It took her 15 months, but we were actually starting to be friends. For the record, it wasn't just me. Hanna spent the first year of her life pretty much hating everyone who wasn't her mom. I'm guessing that after two months, she will have forgotten all about me, and we'll have to start all over, but that's okay. I know my friends Emma and Jase will remember. Oh how I can't wait to snuggle with them!

But it gets even better than this.

Also traveling this afternoon from the opposite direction will be Shulamith and Matt. If our timing works out, we should all arrive in Rexburg at about dinner time. Woo hoo! What will we do this weekend? I can't say for sure. Probably spend some time at McDonald's. The kids can play there, and more importantly, Lindsey and I need the nostalgia of McDonald's. We wouldn't feel like we'd been together if we didn't go there at least once. And then, there must be a mall somewhere near Rexburg, right? I don't know what else. Plenty of restaurant meals. Maybe a movie? We'll see.

It really doesn't matter what we do. If I can be with Lindsey and her kids, along with Shulamith and Matt, all in the same weekend, I truly need nothing more. Well, I could use Celeste, but I guess life can't be perfect.

Okay, it's almost time to go. Let me tell you one more funny thing first. When Lindsey was telling her kids about our visit, she said: "Terrianne is coming today, and also Shulamith and Matt. Do you remember Matt?"

Jase replied, "Yes. He used to be my friend when we lived in Billings. I haven't seen him since we moved from Billings. He is going to be so surprised about my tattoo!"

Indeed he will Jase! We all will.

Is it today yet?

YES IT IS!