The Little Things.

photo credit via pinterest

Celebration has been my word for this year...of course no one would know that since I haven't been able to find the time to finish my New Year's post...and it's nearly April...I know, sad.

But, really, celebration is a way to live. And I do it--most days. I still have to remind myself because I'm not perfect, and this whole outlook of celebration is not quite an ingrained habit yet.

But these pictures are moments of celebration that I capture with a click of a camera.

They are part of our real life, and though they be but small, nothing is too small to celebrate.

So come, celebrate this month with me as I showcase a few of our moments--worthy of celebration.

 These were taken a special Saturday this month when my mom, sisters, and I had a "princess morning." We all met at the temple (our castle ;) and then went to lunch afterwards and did a little--a lot--of shopping. We didn't meant to be gone all day, but we were because we were having so much fun together. I was worried about my little family at home though. But my sweetheart sent me this picture to reassure me that everything was fine and they were all happy. I'm so grateful he gave me this day away to relax and rejuvenate and celebrate.

Mr. Tate can always be found building something these days, he's so inventive. We built this track together and I had to celebrate with a picture!

 I had to include this one even though it was blurry. It cracks me up every time I see it! Oh Maylie, you look like a little Polish grandma or something! Definitely celebration worthy!!

This one melts me heart. To see these two brothers (who often like to bother and quarrel) reading together...

 On a dress up day...

And one day Tate and I played a sounds game together. Tate was insistent on making a long train with the snapped-together puzzle pieces. And what really amazed me, is he learned most of his sounds from just one time of playing this learning game together!

 This was definitely a night of celebration. I was tired and not feeling the greatest--so my sweet husband sent me the sweetest text instructing me to not make dinner and we would all go out as a family. Which we did--to The Grille and had a lovely dinner. (I haven't had salmon since Portugal!!)

 My new beautiful tablecloths came this month and we have been using them every day since! It has really brightened up our dining room and given our dinners that special aesthetic touch!

 I found a quaint little shop here in our town where I bought flowers for a sister in our ward who was sick and had surgery--and I bought a few little things for my kitchen and for St. Patrick's Day. Come to find out, the lady owner worked as a secretary for my Dad when I was just tiny--what a small little world! I will definitely be back to this cute little place. I think I could buy the whole store!

 And then Maylie-girl. Always my little model.

 Quiet mornings like this (which are usually every morning) you can find Tate and Flashlight together.

 And my silly sweet young women, of course. Always a reason to celebrate!

The End.

Chapter One: Life Musing

Sometimes I just need to write. To make sense of everything that swirls and sits and mixes and stirs within. It seems that after the thoughts become little black letters and words and paragraphs, I'm able to see how it all fits together. Writing makes order out of chaos--at least it does for me.

But so many times I sit down to write a post and find that I don't have a picture to go with it. So I abandon the post thinking that a post without pictures is like porridge without sugar--bland and unsavory. But on the other hand, chapter books don't have pictures and they're just as lovely to me. 

So for today my post diverges from a picture book into the chapter book realm. These thoughts are really written for me so don't feel bad if you skip my picture less posts. 

And with that said, so I begin. 

Once upon a time, which is really now at this epoch in my life, I began embracing simplicity. The details of how this came to be reside in my journal. 

A phrase resonates through my mind frequently: "Do less and enjoy more." Lately we've been embracing simplicity and hours of play both outside and inside. I have diverged from my comfort zone of perfectly planned schedules and routines, adopting instead, a loose and flexible day. 

Early Mornings consist of studying my scriptures and getting ready. Then when the boys awake we snuggle upstairs with a 20 minute show. Breakfast comes after and then morning chores of laundry, dishes, making beds, brushing teeth and getting dressed. Then comes the best part--play time. It happens naturally and without prompting. The littles wander to their rooms or sometimes upstairs and sometimes outside. I follow. We play together or they play on their own. The beauty is, I take my cues from them. Sometimes they want me to play, other times they are engulfed in an imaginary world of their own. And I sit by and watch or read. 

Lunchtime creeps up on us before we know it and afterwards we cuddle on our great room sofa to read our newest pile of library books. We have quiet rest time after this and I retreat to my beckoning cloud bed to read or write and ponder. And after that, once again I follow as they head for the great outdoors, the coloring supplies, or their toy box. Dinner prep time comes next and I employ my hungry comrades to help with dinner or play in the kitchen. Daddy comes home, he's greeted with hugs, and instantly I feel like a whole person again. 

After a noisy and chaotic dinner we clean up and the boys have their play time with Daddy (and Maylie too). Then we get them ready for bed and gather for scriptures. Easton reads his verse all by himself now and loves to help Tate with his. We only read a few verses a night, but I know that line upon line, teaching upon teaching, their testimonies will grow. We have family prayer for the second time of the day (the first happens before Patrick leaves for work), and then tuck them into bed with a hug, a kiss, and a song. Then Patrick and I literally crash on the couch and share the toils of the day before sharing a treat and watching a movie. 

This paradigm shift goes against my "teacher mode" that I came into motherhood with. Relinquishing my tendency to micro manage every moment of every day is not easy one bit. But the overall sense of peace I have felt as we've engaged in this schedule less way has been remarkable. This new way of thinking provides a framework for my life that can easily be adapted to fit the changing ages and needs of my children. But I was so scared that I would tire of it and go back to my old ways of letting the children watch 2 hours of movies or computer or iPod games. I feared my sanity would take a hit and I would lose the desire. So I prayed that the sparkle of letting my children just be children and play to their heart's content just like I did as a little girl would not dim. And it hasn't. There is such peace in watching them play and invent and imagine. I have no guilt wondering if I'm doing the "right activity" for them. I'm not following a curriculum. We're just doing less and enjoying more. I'm relishing the role I have as the mother of three terrific children and I feel so incredibly blessed. 

And this begins the first chapter. Of what? I don't know for sure. Maybe the first chapter of finally knowing how to mother the right way. Or how to live a peaceful, simple life. Or how to enjoy my children more than I ever have before. 

Or maybe just how to really live. 

Last Night's Agenda.

It was a long, hard day, and remembering my manifesto of earlier this year, I decided that a warm soak in the tub with sugar scrub and calming music was in order.

Afterwards, I snuggled in my bed reading and pondering the questions I had asked the Lord earlier.  He gave me answers to both....

And this was one of them...my new quest to bring good cheer to the world around me.

First, through sincere and heartfelt compliments--to those I love the most as well as to those the Lord places in my path...those in the grocery line, at the park, or anywhere else I am.

And second, by leaving little sticky notes in random places--especially to those in my family {like lunch boxes, pillows, and laundry} and also to those around me whom I'll never meet {like on public restroom mirrors}.

It's not much, but these 2 little ways to serve will hopefully bring me out of my comfort zone and closer to the peace of my Father and Savior.

Living in Harmony.

So I've been trying a new experiment for my "year of connection."  I started with a renovation of my daily rhythm (which happens every so often as the little ones get older and present different needs) and the result has blessed my life immensely.

My morning rhythm is much the same...my personal getting ready time, personal scripture study, family prayer, getting Patrick and Easton out the door, breakfast, getting the 2 little ones ready for the day, cleaning the house, and doing the laundry.  Then I set in "liquid stone" time to have preschool and playtime with Tate.  I call it liquid stone because it's set in stone, but the liquid stone is kind of like corn starch...it can be hard or soft.  Therefore, if something comes up on a given day, liquid stone will allow me to be flexible.  (It's just an image for my mind to process consistency with flexibility).

After we pick up Easton from the bus stop, we make lunch, eat, and clean up.  Then the boys have their playtime together while I play with Maylie (for roughly 30 minutes) {This is also set in liquid stone.  In fact the whole afternoon is...}.  Afterwards, we read stories together (another 30+ minutes) and then we put Maylie down for her nap.  The boys and I have Mommy Playtime and we switch off doing activities that they choose with ones that I choose (usually super easy and fun ones that I've found on Pinterest).  After that they get their free time to either watch a movie or play a game on the Wii or iPod.  Then we do a quick pick-up of the house and make dinner.

During dinner we have family scripture study (which is a great way at this stage in our lives to combine the daily bread with the living bread).  Afterwards is clean-up, the boys get ready for bed, and then they get to have special time with Daddy.  They switch off the things they do each day.  Some days they wrestle, or play the Wii, read stories, or play board games.  While they have time together, I finish up any chores or tasks I didn't get finished during the day, or relax for a few minutes.

This rhythm has been the most successful one yet.  It's as if a light finally went on and every day is a celebration!  Celebrating my children, celebrating every season, celebrating their talents and interests, celebrating learning, celebrating fun, and most of all, just celebrating us!

After two weeks of implementing our new rhythm, I read a quote from my Simple Abundance book that summed up exactly what was happening:

"Harmony is the inner cadence of contentment we feel when the melody of life is in tune.  When somehow we're able to strike the right chord--to balance the expectations of our families and our responsibilities in the world on the one hand with our inner needs for spiritual growth and personal expression on the other."   --Sarah Ban Breathnach

I now have a word for the feeling that has descended on my heart--it's harmony.  And though the times and seasons will inevitably change, I know that with the Lord's help, we can achieve harmony with every change.

2013...Welcome.

As the end of last year came to a halt and the new year rolled into my life, I pondered much.

I have learned to follow the pattern of the earth as it glides through the year...for there are seasons of "doing" and seasons of "being."

Winter is the season just "to be."

To reflect on how the past year has shaped and refined us, and then to contemplate who we wish to become in the coming year, is a special gift that winter offers to each of us.

And so begins my post of words; words to symbolize where I traveled last year, and words to shine as guiding stars for the coming one.

2012, you were the year of moments.  And moments I lived.  I didn't know at the beginning of the year that I would be tossed into a well of postpartum depression, nor did I know the journey it would take me.  For more mornings than I care to remember, I woke with a feeling of utter hopelessness, almost despair.  The first half of my year I lived from one good moment to the next.  There seemed to be so few, even though I consciously knew they were plentiful.  My body would not allow me to enjoy the practically perfect life I lived.  Even the warm early Spring did little to lift my spirit.  

But there was something that helped tremendously--my dear family.  My husband, my parents, and my in-laws reached out in love and support.  Without Patrick's support, I'm not sure how I would have overcome.  He was there every step of the way--like an anchor to ground me in a stormy sea.  I can't count the number of blessings he gave me and the counsel and love and patience he offered.  He was the one who finally convinced me to seek out professional help.  He was always there and I can't express appreciation enough for him.

My mother was also an angel of mercy in this time of need.  She would make the drive over to be with me and help around the house when I couldn't go on.  She would sit and talk with me and listen.  One particular day she taught me a lesson I will never forget.  She drew a stick person of me on a piece of paper, folded the paper in half like a book, and set it up on the table.  Then she asked me to list everything that was stressing me, worrying me, causing me pain, grief, or sadness.  I listed everything I could think of and she kept asking for more.  She listed each on a half sheet of paper.  Finally, when I had exhausted every bit of stress inside, she piled those papers on top of "me" and we watched as I slumped underneath the weight of it all.  She told me that by myself, I just can't do it all.

Then she drew the Savior on the other half of my paper and placed the paper as a cover for a small notebook and set it up.  This time, the papers held their ground, and so did I.  She emphasized how by ourselves, we can do so very little, but with Christ, we can do all things which strengthen us.  Next, we removed all the papers that were "out of my control" and I ripped those up.  Then she helped me decide which of the remaining things were essential and necessary and which were just nice.  She helped me create a manageable plan and counseled me to rely on the Savior.  She gave me a book to borrow (Believing Christ), and it was just perfectly what I needed.  Her entire visit was exactly the prescription I needed.

My father was also a support.  There were many days he would call to check up on me and offer me a few bits of wisdom that I treasured.  While comforting me on the phone one day, my dad mentioned something I already knew deep down, but I clung to for months.  He said, peace and joy don't come in years, they don't come in months, they don't come in weeks, and they don't even come in days.  They come in moments.  And it is these moments that we have to snatch when they arrive and enjoy them while they're here because maybe two seconds later it will be a moment of chaos or frustration.  But we need to use these moments of peace and joy to recharge for those other moments that we have to pass through.  And if we don't relish the moments when they come, we won't ever experience peace and joy...because it will never come in anything but moments. 

And so I lived for the moments, and they were ever so fleeting.  There were literally only a handful a day, but I knew, that somehow, if I pressed on, the moments would increase and I would find my usual cheery, enthusiastic self again.

And through priesthood blessings and prayers and faith and medication and time, the Lord saw fit to finally deliver me.  One night I recorded the words of a blessing from my sweetheart.   He blessed me, among many things, to feel an outpouring of love from Heavenly Father and to know that He was aware of my need.  He promised me that Father would provide light just around the corner.  All I needed to do was open my eyes and recognize it, for it was there, glimmering.   So I held on fast, striving to increase all the faith I could muster.  

I knew I was pulling out of the darkness when the hour of my happiness would jump back.  At first I was only happy from the evening on.  Then the time gradually lengthened so I would feel happiness come on after lunch.  And then, before lunch, and then mid-morning.  And when the day finally came that I woke up with a smile, I knew my journey was nearly complete.  The Lord was removing my chains of bondage.

And the day that I "returned" during the summer of 2012, I recorded the following in my journal:

I'M BACK!!!!!!!!  Yes, I'm back.  The real me.  The Jamie Greene Johnson who is in love with life and with her family and lives each day with an enthusiastic zest that is unmatchable!  The Jamie who is excited when she wakes up for the day that is ahead of her, who is confident and full of faith and knows that whatever happens, the Lord will be with her.  Yes, I'm back.  Finally.

It's been a long road but I have learned ever so much.  First, I need my Savior.  For everything.  I find myself praying now for His grace to attend me nearly a hundred times a day.  And when I pray I feel this empowering, enabling force come over me that is a power separate and distinct from my own.  It is amazing.  And I am so glad I have learned, truly learned, how to come to know my Savior better.  It's by inviting His grace and strength into my life again and again, moment by moment.  I feel like I know Him so so much better than I did a year ago.

Second, I've learned how to handle perfectionism.  It's an easy formula, nothing new.  I do the best I can and leave the rest to the Lord.  Because I have entered into a covenant relationship with my Savior, I am perfect in Christ.  His merits and mercy make up for all of my deficits so to speak.  He is wonderful and He makes me wonderful.  I love renewing my covenant with Him each week during the sacrament, confessing my sins, and asking my Father to extend my "contract" again so I can try again to conquer my weaknesses.  I know that I can only do a piece at a time, and as much as I want to eat the whole pie at times, I know that truly, I need to be happy with a piece.  And I am.  Finally.

Third, I am learning to live in the moment so much better...just as is my goal and theme for this year.  I love spending time with my little ones and I love the relationships we share.  Life is so beautiful as I learn and laugh with them.  I am treasuring each little coo and smile from Maylie, each little inquisitive question from Easton, each little random thought from Tate.  They make my life joyful and I am so happy.

Yes, 2012, I feel that the moments, even those that were excruciating, were well-lived and will always be well-remembered.  I can look back now and see all of the glowing moments, like lanterns on the waters of last year. 

Pondering my theme for the New Year of 2013 (and subsequently, my gift to the Savior) was difficult--there are so many things I wish to become, so much I wish to do, so many qualities I wish to be woven into the fiber of my life.

But as I sifted through the mound of ideas, I molded a theme, and so 2013, I wish to name you,  
the Year of Connection.

This will be a year of deepening relationships, of coming closer, of knitting hearts together in love and unity.  It's building on the year of moments by using each moment to connect on a heart-level.

To my Savior, I wish to let Him in, and abide in my heart.  I want to feel Him near as I go about serving Him in my mundane, yet transcendent tasks.  I know that holiness can be found in the mundane.  I feel it every time I focus my attention on the detail and compare the task to a spiritual endeavor.  (I will explain more in a later post).  Most of all, I want to think of Him often and be His friend, for isn't this what we covenant to do?

To my Patrick, I want to connect my heart to his to an even greater extent.  We are already so close, I can't wait to see where this year brings us..

And finally, to my children, I give the gift of time.  Time to connect with their sweet little hearts.  Time to embrace their interests and zest.  Time to play with them and learn from them and simply to be with them.  Last year I was given a special birthday gift, one which I pleaded for from my Heavenly Father.  I wanted the gift of desire.  The desire to be and play with my children.  The desire to awake in the morning, exuberant for the adventures we would share.  And I can testify that this gift was bestowed.  And now this year, the desire is turning into action.  Beautiful time-filled action.  

 

I love my babies.

And so, 2013, you are filled with promise.  And this year of sacrifice, will prove to be nothing of a sacrifice at all...only an immense reward yielding great, great dividends...

Paradise

This song describes my life so perfectly.  Like to a tee.  But just like the girl in this song, after spending years dreaming of paradise, I have learned that paradise is right here, wherever I am, even if I'm lying underneath the stormy skies--knowing that the sun will set and rise on a brand new day.

I don't remember when this lesson really started to sink in, but when I first heard this song early this year I knew that it completely summarized the principle I had been learning to live--that of enjoying the moment, finding the jewel in each day, and learning to be happy and content in every circumstance.  It's the epitome of thanksliving and believing that the Lord's graces and tender mercies are all around.  This song sums up what I have been becoming the last three years with yearly themes.

Looking back, I feel that I've left a part of my heart in every "paradise" I've lived in.  The little red brick house that always appeared to me to have a face was where I grew up.  It will always hold the nostalgia and sweet memories of innocent childhood.  It was the place I laughed, loved, and grew my testimony.  It represents that idyllic sunshiney phase of life to which I so often wish to return....even just for a day.  I can't even drive by this house anymore or my heart hurts.  It's so sad for me to see other cars parked in the driveway, the playhouse and cherry trees gone, the beautiful log fences that my dad so lovingly built, in ruins.  And I've looked at those "window eyes" and felt like the home is calling out to me to come back and live there again.  I can't think about it too much without getting too sad, so I choose to preserve it in my memory as the happy place it once was and not the place it now is.

Then there was Portugal, the place where more than half my heart still resides, and always will.  That home, that epic seems so much like a dream to me nearly 10 years later.  I was a princess in that home, or so it felt.  And while the challenges there were more daunting than the years before, it was a very sacred and hallowed time for me.  It was there that I found out who I really was and who I was going to strive to become.  (And though I didn't know it at the time, it was there that I met the missionary who would one day become my sweetheart for time and all eternity.)  Was Portugal Paradise?  Truly.  There's no better word to describe it.

My little apartment in Colonial House while attending BYU-Idaho was fleeting and trying.  I only owned one half of a tiny bedroom, but it was a haven to me where I studied, wrote the feelings of my heart, and talked for endless hours to my family in Portugal and Patrick who was attending school 400 miles away.  I know there is a piece of my heart still there.

The next house was our first together as husband and wife.  University Courtyard #602 was more like a hallway, perhaps a "closet under the stairs."  But it was beautiful and the perfect place to begin our married lives together.  It was in that little one bedroom apartment that we learned how to rely on the Lord and each other for just about everything.  It was only a sojourn for 9 months, but still long enough to plant a part of my heart there as well.

Hill's Cottage, tucked away in a quiet place was so idyllic.  We brought both Easton and Tate home from the hospital to this beloved sanctuary.  It was more than 100 years old, but the 3 bedroom home was paradise to us, even with the purple holey carpet and sinking toilet.  I loved that home as much as I've ever loved a home.  It felt like it was ours, especially since we spent two years in its shelter.  Whenever my mind travels back to this house, all I feel is peace and tranquility.  It was a heaven on earth.  It was there that we taught Easton to walk and where I spent so many hours and weeks and months learning how to become a mother.  It was all so new and adventurous and challenging.  It was one of the sweetest times in my memory.  There we invited family home evening groups over from the singles ward where Patrick was serving, to have a lesson, game, and refreshments nearly every Monday.  I loved that home and was so sad to leave.  The only happy part about leaving was knowing we were moving on to graduate school and another adventure.

Our next abode, a basement apartment was smaller than the cottage before, but warm and cozy.  We hunkered down in there for 3 years with intermittent moves to do internships.  It was there we grew closer than ever before to my sweet grandparents, Gram and Pop.  We were at their house nearly every day, playing, laughing, and making cherished memories.  It was there I was taught by a good friend how to paint and distress furniture, bargain shop, and decorate my home in an authentic way that I love.  It was there that I learned how to love and play with and nurture two growing, crazy, darling boys.  It was there Patrick completed his academic schooling for physical therapy school, and it was there that we felt it was time for Maylie to join us.  The ward we were part of was so good to us and we still miss them so dearly.  I think a part of our heart will always be there.

Our last abode before our final stop was in our farmhouse cottage.  It fulfilled my lifelong dream to live in an old, renovated farmhouse.  It was our first home that we had all to ourselves, even though we were still renting.  The boys played and slept in the loft, rode their bikes in the spacious yard, and we enjoyed the roomy bathroom that was bigger than some of our previous bedrooms.  The area we lived in was picturesque and serene.  Farmlands everywhere, with our home bordering the foothills of the high, tall mountains.  There were times when I thought this would be our resting place, but somehow the Lord led us on.  And even though we spent a year here, it seemed like only a few months.  The time flew and Maylie turned 1 just yesterday and we're leaving tomorrow.  And as I close this chapter, I feel a big part of my heart will always reside in this sweet little town.  For it was here that I overcame dark days of dreariness, enjoy each and every moment, let truths sink deeply into my heart, and was given a special gift from Heavenly Father--the desire to play with and be with my sweet little ones for all their waking hours.  I look back and can't believe how far I've come.  How far we've all  come, really.  Life has soared on wings of eagles and no matter how hard I wish it to slow, it only increases velocity.  And now, it's time to close this chapter and welcome the one ahead.  Ironically, as a side note, as I walked through our new home yesterday afternoon to check the progress, "Paradise" was playing on the radio...

And so with this reflection on where we've come, I realize that each of our homes have been a unique paradise in their own way.   
Paradise is a state of the heart, not a geographical location.  
It is this I have learned.

And just like the others before it, this, this could be paradise.

...And now for the clips that inspired this post, "Paradise" by Coldplay and "Peponi" by the Piano Guys.  These have been my two favorite songs this year.  It's so amazing to me how music can speak to us in ways that nothing else can.  Enjoy...

P.S. The video that accompanies Peponi is INCREDIBLE.