Listening

For my book club we were supposed to read The 3rd Alternative by Steven Covey.  Now, truth be told, I am not a Steven Covey fan.  Mostly because people get weird about him and his books, and all the people I know who tout his most famous book are people that I don't wish to be like.  "Effective" is a nasty word.  I don't want to be effective, I want to be happy.  I don't even want to be effectively happy.  I want my happiness to be sloppy and messy and haphazard and natural.  Anything but effective.  

However, I've been in school for so long that I haven't read a single book club book for quite a while.  Out of a sense of joy at my newfound freedom more than anything else, I decided to go ahead and read the book.

And holy cow, the book is deep.  It's like learning about Charity, but in a completely applicable, how-to sort of way.  I figured out that I'm really good at seeing myself "correctly", but I'm pretty terrible at seeing others the same way.  In particular, I felt a sting about a few specific people that I've been giving a hard time (I've been known to tell my husband that these people aren't quite human - they're sub-human.  How's that for an honest admission of how awesome I am, eh?).

The book talks about how to listen, mostly.  How to really, truly listen.  And I realized that I'm also a pretty terrible listener.  I might be able to help come up with a solution to your problem (though, probably not.  I'm not super creative, actually), but I'm not going to say anything that sounds even remotely sympathetic / empathetic.  Empathy is not something I try to do.  To me it feels condescending somehow.  I don't know, I can't explain it.

But as I was reading the book, or at least the sections that applied to me, I was going, "Geez, I've got some changing to do."  More empathy needed.  Better listening.  I bet I could completely turn around my relationship with Elijah if I just listened better.  Which wouldn't be hard, cause I haven't been listening at all.  I don't even have to be a Master Listener to do a better job.

Which requires a side bar.  My 9-year-old son has been struggling lately.  We've been making a massive effort to try to turn things around.  We've gotten him outside help, we've signed him up for activities that he's interested in, we've tried to be better parents with  more consistent rules and nicer attitudes.  And things have improved quite a bit.  

Still, Elijah has been saying things like:  "No one treats me like a human being."  "You always treat me like an idiot."  "No one wants to be my friend."

I've been interpreting these statements as you would think I would:  Elijah struggles making and keeping friends, and he has low self-esteem.

Last night was another one of those times when he said that I always treat him like he's stupid.  He overreacted to the extreme, and I put him in his room to cool off.  After a few minutes, I walked in to talk to him.  As he talked and I felt myself wanting to roll my eyes at the drama and the overreacting, I consciously told myself, "Tamra, be a better listener."  And you know what I heard myself say:

"That sounds frustrating, Elijah."

Guess what I've never said to him ever before?  That phrase.  It didn't sound that bad coming out of my mouth.  And you know what it encouraged him to do?  Keep talking.  Here's what I learned:

1 - If you let him keep talking,  he'll come up with the same solutions I would have, but on his own - without any suggestion on my part.

2 - Sometimes people bug him at school.  "Everyone" means 2 specific people at school.  And one of those two moved out after Kindergarten!  (Yes, that's how long this kid can hold on to injustices.  Welcome to Elijah's world.)

3 - After listening to him for a while, he was totally willing to accept what I had to say.  "That makes sense."  

Wait, that's all it took?  Why haven't I been saying things like, "That must be hard," all this time?  Oh, yeah, because I hate hearing things like that.  "That must be hard"?  Well, yeah.  That's why I'm telling you.  I don't want you to try to echo back the emotions I'm putting out.  I can figure out my own emotions myself.  And you'll usually get it wrong anyway, so ...  When Rob (or others) try the "active listening" stuff on me, repeating back what I just said in a slightly different way, I just get frustrated.  "No, you weren't listening.  That's not what I was saying at all.  Now I have to explain it all over again until you can get it right."  :)  

But if all this empathy will create a healthy, happy relationship with my son, I can swallow my pride.  It's not about me.  It's about him.  Check out this exchange, at the end of our discussion / listening session:

"You tell me I'm stupid all the time."

"Can you tell me a time when I did?"
"Well, it's not what you say, it's how you say it.  Like one time I was digging holes in the backyard, and you said, "Wow, Elijah, that's real smart."  If a dog had done that, well, maybe not a dog, because you wouldn't talk to a dog quite like that, but you made me feel like I was stupid because I dug holes in the backyard."

"Okay."  (pause)  "I get that.  But let me explain a difference.  Digging holes in the backyard is a stupid action.  It doesn't make you a stupid person to do something that is stupid.  I should react better, but sometimes you do things that are in themselves stupid, but it does not mean that I think you're stupid.  I don't think you're stupid.  You're very smart."

"Yeah, because stupid is like when you don't know what 1 plus 1 is.  And I know lots of that kind of stuff."

"Right.  You're very good at math, for instance.  But we all do stupid things sometimes.  You do.  I do.  We all do."

"Oh.  So, doing something that is stupid is different than being stupid.  That makes sense.  You'd be stupid if you kept doing that stupid thing over and over."

Ding, ding, ding!  Did you hear it in his last comment?  A light bulb when on.

I think a light bulb went on for both of us.  

Am I a Mother?

A mother is someone who, when there are 8 pieces of pie and 9 people, says, "I'm not hungry."

You guys ever heard that before?  I've remembered it since the moment I heard it because it struck me to the core. 

Clearly I am not a mother.

Cause you know what?  The mother in that quote, she probably made the freakin' pie.  And if I made a pie, you better BELIEVE I'm getting a piece of it.  You know who should go without?  The 2-year-old who couldn't care less if he gets a piece of pie or a piece of candy.  How does that not make sense?! 

Even if I expand this quote out to apply in a more general sense, I fail hard core.  My needs certainly don't come last.  Ever.  It's just not what I do. 

I started looking around.  In the circles I occupy, mothers give all they have and then some to their kids.  They don't wonder why they do it, or feel stuck in a rut.  They just give and are happy to do so.  Conference talks define these women, and it comes naturally to them.  All these characteristics of wonderfulness, then, were bestowed upon them at birth, ...  I clearly was standing in a different line in the Pre-existence when God was handing out personal characteristics.

I decided, over time, and with a smidgen of guilt, that I was simply not a mother.  Or, I guess, not the right kind of mother.  Not the way a mother should be.  Not a real mother.  However you want to put it.  Other mothers were Something Great and I was Something Less Than Great.

And while I have always known this about myself, I finally stopped fighting it:  I am a selfish person.  If selfless mothers give and give and give and don't think about themselves for a moment, then I obviously am not selfless.  I am selfish.

So imagine my delight and surprise when, as I was reading a required text for an on-line BYU class, I read this quote:  "Other-centeredness is the capacity to care for others and the maturity to allow others' needs to become equal or greater in priority than one's own."* 

Did you catch it?  EQUAL.  I did a double-take.  This means, then, that I can be a good mother if all I do is put my kids' needs on the same plane as my own?  Well, did and done!

So take a moment and be happy for me that I have re-claimed my Good Mother status.  I get a piece of pie, the baby gets a piece of candy, and everyone is happy.  As it should be.

* Quote from Young Adulthood and Pathways to Eternal Marriage by Jason S. Carroll

Don't Mention It

Tonight I had to go to a scholarship recognition dinner.  When I arrived and looked at the program, I saw that each scholarship recipient would be called by name and asked to come to the front of the room for recognition.

Wait.  Say what?

I know.  At this point you're wondering what I thought would happen at a recognition dinner if not recognition.  I thought, you know, that maybe I would sit at a table and chat politely with faculty and scholarship donors.  That's no problem.  But walking to the front of the room while everyone claps? 

I was in instant anxiety zone.  Seriously.  Looking at the exits.  Wondering if it would be believable that I had to go to the bathroom right this very minute.  Weighing the pros and cons.  Would it embarrass my husband if I left?  Would it embarrass the college president?  Would my friends who attended wonder what happened to me?

So I went up there.  Smiled.  Nodded.  Took a picture with the group.

I don't know why this bothers me so much.

You know, one time I was at a different scholarship recognition night, a long time ago, and the presenter asked the crowd to give me a STANDING OVATION while I walked to the stage and grabbed my medal.  A standing ovation?  Really?  I was pissed.  Seriously on fire pissed off.

You're thinking, "Tamra, this isn't a big deal."  I know it shouldn't be!  But it is for me.  I really, really dislike recognition.  Particularly of the stand up and walk across the stage, smile and grab your award while everyone claps for you variety.

I don't know where these feelings come from.  I can't put into words what it is about these events that influences me so.  It's something about a lot of things, I guess.  The recognition isn't personal.  It's for show.  It's not on my terms.  I get lumped with a group with whom I share nothing other than that we all recieved some amount of money from some group and we all attend Cincinnati State.  And then people who don't know me are clapping for ME.  No, that's not right.  None of this is right.

...

Clearly I have issues.

Election Confession

Yesterday I dutifully went to the polls, filled out my ballot, and turned it in.  A nice older woman thanked me for voting as she offered me a sticker.  I said, "Yeah.  Whatever."  This year no one should thank me for voting.

Rob and I moved to Ohio in the summer of 2004, just in time to vote in an election where our voice actually mattered.  Before then we'd lived in Utah, which is crimson on the policitcal spectrum.  No need to bother voting there.  So when we moved to Ohio we were excited, optimistic, and eager to learn about the candidates and issues and then go vote responsibly.  I quickly decided that being informed was difficult, but well worth it.  I promised myself that I would always care deeply and vote consciously.

That resolve was doomed to fail.  I should have known that about myself.  I should have seen the truth well before I made the personal promise. 

The 2012 election season killed my political insides.  Not only am I older and more skeptical, not only have I always been politically disillusioned, but I also live in Ohio, which was the Swingiest State of All this time.  The state that got all the attention. 

You guys who live in Blue or Red states, you don't know how lucky you have it. 

I didn't want to vote.  I probably wouldn't have even gone in if my local school district didn't have a levy on the ballot.  But they did, and no matter how I feel about politics, I care about that.  So I went.  I thought about voting for only that issue and none of the others.  I thought about voting for President, then the school levy, and none of the others.  But I couldn't do it.  I had to vote for them all.

This was my first time voting Angry.  It's when you go like this:  "Two guys on the ballot.  I've heard this guy's name more.  I'm voting for the other guy.  Next, three guys on the ballot.  That one sent me so much nasty junk mail.  That other one had a sign when I walked in.  I'm voting for the third guy, the one I've never heard of."

I voted straight Other Guy.

The issues weren't any better.  I voted, "Hell, no, you can't have my money.  What are you going to do with it anyway?  Leave me alone!" The only exception was that school levy.

I'm not proud of the way I voted.  I'm just saying that's how it went. 

Before 2016 I'm moving to another state.  Red or Blue, I don't care which.  Just some place where my vote doesn't matter.

Mission Fund

On Saturday I was at the zoo, doing a something with some people, walking around with 2 friends, and I got a text from my husband.  It said, "Women can now go on missions when they're 19.  And men when they're 18."  I instantly smiled and almost shouted, "Awesome!"  Which, of course, made my 2 friends ask me what was so awesome.

And here's where I found myself stuck.  These 2 friends are not Mormon.  What do I tell them?

So I explained a little about missions and how young men typically go at 19 and young women have to wait until they're 21.  Now that the rules have changed, more young women will be able to go.  This is a great thing for everyone.

But this isn't all that needs explaining.  The next part that I always tell people is about my Hyper Traditionalist church.  I like being Mormon, no doubt.  I believe it heart and soul.  But we stay pretty far behind the times, you know?  I mean, more equality for women?  The nation caught that vision a while ago.  Hurray for Mormons for finally figuring it out!

I mean, I'm pretty straight-laced.  I don't do all that stuff on the Don't List and I usually do all the stuff on the Do List.  But I'm not a Do What You're Told type.  My life may look traditional, but I don't feel traditional.  I ask a lot of questions.  I'm not afraid to be bold.  So sometimes the traditional-for-the-sake-of-being-traditional stuff really irks me.  I feel like my church lags behind the modern age because ...  because ...  because ...  huh.

And that's what kind of missionary I am.  "My church just made a great call that's drasticly behind the times!  ...  I really like being Mormon, I promise."


On a related note, my Kids' Mission Fund suddenly needs an extra $10,000.  Miciah heard the news and instantly said, "Great!  I'm going."

Soccer Bag - Stolen Conversation #43

You guys remember the bag I bought and then sewed my awesome soccer patches all over?  The one I mentioned in this post?  Well, I had the best conversation ever about my bag and I wanted to share.  It was between me and my 6-year-old nephew.

Jaden:  Is that your soccer bag?
Me:  No, it's actually my school bag.
[pause]
Jaden:  Do you go to soccer school?

Stolen from Jaden, pictured here with his father, July 2009

Stolen Conversation #42

I was driving in the car with Tank and he saw a bicycle with a baby/kid carrier hooked to the back.  The kind that rolls along the ground and looks like it's made entirely of mesh.  This conversation followed:

Tank:  Look, Mom!  It's a bike with a carriage.

Me:  Yep.

Tank:  There's a baby in there.

Me:  Yeah.  That's because the kid is too small to ride a bike himself.

Tank:  Yeah. ...  The baby is riding along like "Ooh, I'm watching a movie," and the dad is like "[panting noise], [panting noise], [panting noise]."

And that cracked me up.

Things I Want / Is it Worth It?

Not sure it's worth it to buy this awesome bento box, but it's SO cute!:

Come on, Elijah would go CRAZY over this lunch box.  But it would be $60 to upgrade our school lunches ($20 per kid).  Plus, let's be honest, I'd want one, too.  Worth it?

These shoes:

My barefoot shoes are slowly dying, though I can probably get another year out of them.  The ones I have are AWESOME but are no longer available in the same sweet colors.  Plus, these ones actually, you know, look like shoes.  They're $90.  Worth it?

Stolen Quote #41

A kid quote gem from Tank, who is 5.

Tank:  How do fish get allergies?
Me:  I don't think they do.
(pause.  Tank is thinking.)
Tank:  Then how did allergies get in the tank?
Me (perplexed):  They didn't.
Tank:  You said that allergies were growing in the tank.
Me (as light finally arrives in my brain):  Oh!  Algae!  There's ALGAE in the tank.

I dare you not to giggle, thinking about fish getting allergies.

Stolen Quote #40

From The Story of Stuff comes this great quote:

"Our enormously productive economy...demands that we make consumption our way of life, that we convert the buying and use of goods into rituals, that we seek our spiritual satisfaction, our ego satisfaction, in consumption.... We need things consumed, burned up, replaced and discarded at an ever-accelerating rate."

- Victor Lebow

P.S.  The Story of Stuff debuted years ago, and now they have sequels, like The Story of Bottled Water, and The Story of Cosmetics.  Fascinating anti-consumerism stories.  (Those communists!)

It's Good to Have Supporters

I've reached yet another point in my interpreting journey.  I'm good enough to understand how lousy I really am, and I'm wondering if I'll ever be non-lousy.

This isn't really a point, though, is it?  It's not a point, a spot, a location.  It's a cycle.  But this time, as I've reached this point, I have a real sense that I may not ever be as good as I want to be.  I'm not fully sure what determines that.  It can't all be hard work. 

And it's times like this when I come home and flop on the couch and stare at the wall and say, "That's it.  I'm just going to quit right now."  And I'm so grateful for other people who know I can do it, so that when I forget, they can say, "You've got this."  I can repeat those words to myself until I've found my confidence again.

A huge thank you to Rob and all my other supporters.  You guys are lovely.

Love and Service, part 2

Part 2 – The How

We know we need to serve.  And we know why:  Love!

For the HOW, we’ll go back to 3 Nephi 17.  After the people were healed, he called another group to Him, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he did so.

3 Nephi 17:11 – 12  And it came to pass that he commanded that their little children should be brought.
So they brought their little children and set them down upon the ground round about him, and Jesus stood in the midst; and the multitude gave way till they had all been brought unto him.

This isn’t the first account of Christ bringing children unto Him.

Matthew 18:1
At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?

I imagine that the disciples had grandiose ideas about who the greatest would be.  A great, famous, important person, perhaps.  Or someone deeply pious and showy about it.  I don’t know.  But I bet that Jesus’s response is not what they expected:

Matthew 18:2 – 5:  And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,
And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.

“Who is the greatest?”  they asked.  Jesus told them to become as little children.

Back to 3 Nephi 17.  Christ says a beautiful prayer.  With the children gathered at his feet.  A prayer that is so beautiful that (verse 16 & 17) “the eye hath never seen, neither hath the ear heard, before, so great and marvelous things as we saw and heard Jesus speak unto the Father;
And no tongue can speak, neither can there be written by any man, neither can the hearts of men conceive so great and marvelous things as we both saw and heard Jesus speak; and no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard him pray for us unto the Father.”  The people were overcome with joy.

And then he brings the children to Him, one by one, and blesses them. 

Verse 21 – 23:  And when he had said these words, he wept, and the multitude bare record of it, and he took their little children, one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them.
And when he had done this he wept again;
And he spake unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones.

And then something else amazing happens.

Verse 24 – 25:  And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven, and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as it were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about, and they were encircled about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.
And the multitude did see and hear and bear record; and they know that their record is true for they all of them did see and hear, every man for himself; and they were in number about two thousands and five hundred souls; and they did consist of men, women, and children.

It’s so incredible that the author emphasizes that it really, truly happened.  It’s like he’s saying, “If you don’t believe it, too bad!  It happened.”

BEHOLD YOUR LITTLE ONES.

We are to become as children.  They are an everyday example to us.  They have many lovely qualities, but one that I love is shown through their artwork.  [I then showed several of my kids' art pieces to the class.]

Children GIVE.
They give a lot.  I have so much artwork I don't know what to do with it all.
They don’t think about what’s in it for them.
They don’t even think it’s a big deal.
They don’t worry too much if it’s not perfect – they give it out of love and they give it with pride because they know it’s the best they could give.  Or because they know we’ll love it anyway.

And as parents, as recipients of this giving, we DO love it.
We don’t pick apart errors.
We don’t wonder why they didn’t do a better job.
We love it.
We are grateful for it.

Children are great at giving simple service.  Here’s an example.

My uncle Rick was in a devastating motorcycle accident earlier this year.  We thought he might not make it through.  He spent months in the hospital.  Then he came home.  He lives 2 houses away from me.  How many times did I go visit him?  Take a guess.  Remember that he’s a cherished person to me.  I thought I might lose him.  How many times?  Twice.  I went twice.  I had thoughts like this:  “He’s probably fine.”  “He’s getting the care he needs.”  “I’m busy.”  “I don’t know the right things to say.”

In contrast, how many times did my 7-year-old son Elijah visit him?  Nearly every day.  Every day for 2 months Elijah went over to check on Rick and see how he was doing.  I guarantee that Elijah didn’t know the right things to say.  But he went.

In some significant ways, we are all like children.  Our service is like their artwork: it’s not perfect.  But it can be heartfelt and significant.  And likewise, Heavenly Father will love us for the service we give.  He will be grateful that we did it.

So find some small way to give service.  All of us can do that.  Don't worry if it's perfect.  Don't worry if it's important enough.  Just do something.  Find a way to bring a smile to someone.   

That’s what we’re here on earth to do.

Love and Service, part 1

My aunt asked me to type up the Christmas lesson I gave for my Gospel Doctrine class, December 2011.  I'm posting it in two parts cause it's kinda long.

I tried to flesh it out so that it would make sense even if you weren't in class.  To note:  I brought crayons and markers and colored pencils and coloring pages to class and a class full of adults colored away while I taught the lesson.  It'll all make sense in the end.  Wait for it.

Here's the lesson:

When I became a Gospel Doctrine teacher, my father said, “Goodness gracious, when it comes time for it, give a Christmas lesson!”  So today I’m giving a Christmas lesson.

There are many lessons that Christmas reminds us of.  Today I chose one of those lessons.

Part 1 – The Why

We often focus on Christ’s birth, but it wouldn’t have meant much if He hadn’t grown up.  Last year me and my husband were lazy for Christmas dinner and did an easy meal, one that our family really likes:  fish.  My big effort was homemade bread.  And while we were eating we realized that this was the perfect meal to segue into the amazing miracles that Jesus performed, one of which involved fish and bread.

Mark 6:34-42
And Jesus, when he went out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and he began to teach them many things.
And when the day was now far spent, his disciples came unto him and said, This is a desert place, and now the time is far passed:
Send them away, that they may go into the country round about, and into the villages, and buy themselves bread: for they have nothing to eat.
He answered and said unto them, Give ye them to eat.  And they said unto him, Shall we go and buy two hundred pennyworth of bread, and give them to eat?
He saith unto them, How many loaves have ye? Go and see.  And when they knew, they say, Five, and two fishes.
And he commanded them to make all sit down by companies upon the green grass.
And they sat down in ranks, by hundreds, and by fifties.
And when he had taken the five loaves and the two fishes, he looked up to heaven, and blessed, and brake the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all.
And they did all eat, and were filled.

This miracle is about practical service.  The people had been with him all day.  They needed something to eat, but buying bread for all of them was really expensive.  Jesus saw a need and filled it.

He performed many, many other miracles.  Many acts of service.  Why?  Why did He do them?

Mark 6:34 gives us the answer:  He was moved with compassion toward them.

Let’s compare that to when Jesus came to the Americas.  

Just after His death, He comes to the people in America.  He gives a sermon, and then tells the people that He must leave.  

3 Nephi 17: 5 – 6:  And it came to pass that when Jesus had thus spoken, he cast his eyes round about again on the multitude, and beheld they were in tears, and did look steadfastly upon him as if they would ask him to tarry a little longer.
And he said unto them: Behold, my bowels are filled with compassion towards you.

He was filled with compassion.  And so, in the very next verse, he heals the sick:

3 Nephi 17:7:  Have ye any that are sick among you? Bring them hither.  Have ye any that are lame, or blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous, or that are withered, or that are deaf, or that are afflicted in any manner?  Bring them hither and I will heal them, for I have compassion upon you; my bowels are filled with mercy.

So we have this wonderful example of the Savior healing the people.  Serving the people.

Out of love.

Heavenly Father
and
Jesus Christ

/\
|
Serve and
Love

|

\/

Us

/\
|
Serve and
Love
|
\/

Others

Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us and so they serve us.  We love them and so we serve them.  We serve them by loving and serving others.

If service is done RIGHT, people will see straight through us, as if it’s a direct line, to Heavenly Father, the Giver of All Good Things.

Mosiah 2:17 – 19  And behold, I tell you these things that ye many learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.
Behold, ye have called me your king; and if I, whom ye call your king, do labor to serve you, then ought not ye to labor to serve one another?
And behold also, if I, whom ye call your king, who has spent his days in your service, and yet has been in the service of God, do merit any things from you, O how you ought to thank your heavenly King!

This is what service should do – turn our thoughts and thanks and attention back to our Heavenly King.  It’s not about us.  It’s about the Ultimate Giver.

... part 2 coming soon...

I can do that

I went to school this week.  First week of the new term.  So it starts: Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights I will be gone from my family; Tuesdays and Thursdays I leave before my kids get home from school.  This hit me pretty hard on Wednesday when Miciah gave me a hug and said, "Mom, I didn't see you at all yesterday.  I missed you."

Most of my classes are not book-heavy but application-focused.  I actually have to sign that project.  I need to go observe an interpreter.  I need to be interacting in sign language.  This is SWEET and actually makes me feel much calmer about the term.  No books to read?  AWESOME!

Maybe my classmates don't read their textbooks OCD-style like I do, because most of them are feeling overwhelmed with the work load in these non-textbook classes.  Granted, by Thursday I was sending Rob texts that said, "Why am I in school again?"  But normally I feel on fire.  Or, as on fire as I get.  Like so:

You want me to video tape a project in sign language every week?  Check.

I need to observe an interpreter for 2 hours?  Did and done.

Attend a weekend workshop for class credit?  Of course.

Oh, and I have to volunteer at the school, teach a church lesson every other week, take care of 3 kids, maintain my house, mow the lawn, study for tests, talk to friends, socialize in the Deaf community, and still sleep 8 hours a night?  No problem.

I can do that.

What is Unconditional Love? (The Weight Issue, Revisited)

I read this blog post and it reminded me that I have a little to say about the Weight Issue that I brought up a while back.  You're probably all sick of hearing about it, but that's the beauty of a blog:  You can just skip this post!

If Rob had only been 275 lbs. and still ROB, then there would be no Weight Issue.  But the fact is that it ruled his life and was destroying him.  I didn't decide that.  He did.  Maybe I'll have him write about it some time.  Because it's an important story.  But here's how it happened, in my words.

Rob had a rock bottom moment.  He's told me that it happened while driving in our Toyota Corolla.  He was sitting in it and he thought, "I fill up the entire side of this car."  He knew something needed to change.

It should be noted that at this point I'm not sure where I was, mentally.  For a long time as Rob was gaining weight, I didn't think there was a problem.  I certainly didn't say anything about it.  I would say things like, "You look fine," and "What are you talking about?" and "I still love you."  But as he got bigger, I started believing that Rob was going to keep gaining and gaining and he probably wouldn't change.  Rob would tell me he wanted to change, but he didn't feel it.  He needed that rock bottom moment.

The great thing about rock bottom moments is that it propels you forward.  Rob read Dr. Phil's book The Ultimate Weight Solution and realized that he needed to change his relationship with food.  And, to his credit and our happiness, he started to do it!

I needed Dr. Phil's book, too.  I read it and realized I was part of Rob's problem!  I kept food in the house that tempted him.  I was pretty lax about it all.  I was creating an environment where it was hard for him to succeed.  I would sit down with my ice cream and give him dirty looks when he wanted a bowl, too.  My rationale was, "I can handle the food.  I have healthy boundaries.  It's not my fault that you don't."

Rob succeeded and succeeded.  We both changed for the better.  And I started learning what Support is and what Support is not.

Support is:
- Participating with him.  I wasn't trying to lose weight, but I needed to be healthier, too.  I exercised (though less than he did).  I ate better.  I cooked less food.  A lot of that we're still keeping up.
- Realizing that when health is the goal instead of "a good body" or "weight loss", Rob and I are on the same plane.
- Waking up to go running with him.

Support is NOT:
- Constantly nagging him about it.
- Eating what I want because "I can handle it."
- Looking the other way.
- Telling him "I don't care how much you weigh.  I love you."

Something inside me snapped when Rob hit rock bottom and promised to change.  He promised a lifestyle change.  He saw the light.  He changed his relationship with food and with himself.  And I latched onto that moment.  "HE PROMISED TO CHANGE.  WE NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK THERE AGAIN."

...  Put yourself in my shoes.  I watched someone I love being sick and unhappy for years.  Then I got that person back, all healthy and spit shined.  Imagine what a good moment that was.

Then imagine that it was slipping away again.  I was seeing patterns re-emerging that hinted that it was all coming back.  The same old lies.  The same patterns.  The person was sort of shrugging their shoulders and heading down the same destructive path.

Does Unconditional Love demand that I say, "It's okay.  Just let it take you away again"?  NO!  It demands that I scream at them, "RUN AWAY!  RUN AWAY!  DON'T DO IT!  DON'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING?  RUN AWAY!!!"

THAT is why this Weight Issue is a Marriage Deal Breaker.  It has nothing to do with the weight and everything to do with the promises.  The trust.  The enlightened moment that we can't deny.  The damaged life that we can't go back to.

And that's my story.  No apologies offered.

Stolen Quote #39

This quote isn't new to you.  I just really like it.

"Fear is the path to the dark side.  Fear leads to anger.  Anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to suffering."

-stolen from Yoda in Star Wars: Episode 1

... I sense much fear in you. ...

Marriage is a Contract

Rob is a WAY better person than I am.  We'll just start there.  :)  Today it was brought up by a friend that my love for Rob seems conditional.  And she's not the first person to call me on that.  I've told Rob that I would leave him if his weight was out of control, for instance.  But the way I see it, that doesn't make my love conditional.  ...  This got me thinking about an e-mail I wrote months ago to a different friend about the same subject seen in a slightly different light.  I thought I'd post it here.

It revolves around the idea that to me marriage is a contract.  ...  (And to my friend who brought this up, I love that you challenge me!  Honestly.  It's always thought-provoking and makes me think about who I am and what I'm all about.  We just never have quite enough time to talk all about it - I'd love to go through things and through things and through things with you.  It makes me a better person.  Plus, we rarely agree, and I LOVE that!)

I've been giving some thought to what we talked about, in terms of whether or not my love for Rob is unconditional.  Trying to figure out what it means to me, and then how to adequately explain it.

Do I love Rob unconditionally?  Yes.  But I'm not married to him unconditionally.

Marriage is a contract.  I don't mean like a paper contract.  It's an emotional contract, an unwritten contract.  The paper doesn't matter, it's just a formality.

The contract means lots of important things, but mostly, to me, the important ones are these two:  

1 - I believe that Rob and I are best served (or at least well enough served) by being married to each other.  

2 - I will do everything that I can to stay in love with the man I married.

The second part is the unconditional part.  I look past his faults, or better put, I try to figure out how to work with his faults.  I'm forgiving and loving.  I realize that he'll never be perfect, and I won't either.  I try to figure out how to work with my OWN faults in a way that keeps us together instead of driving us apart.  I wake up and CHOOSE to be married to him every single day.  This part also obligates me to say when I'm unhappy.  To tell him when I feel like things aren't going smoothly.  This allows us to work on it, and makes it easier for me to love him tomorrow.  It's easier to work on small problems instead of big ones.

The first part is the conditional agreement.  I agreed to marry Rob, I wrote that contract, because I thought we would make each other happy.  We would be good to each other.  But that could someday, any day, not be true.  It would be a breach of contract if he were to physically abuse me, for instance.  Or in any OTHER way abuse me.  But abuse isn't the only time when the contract could be breached.  If he were causing me daily pain on a long-term basis, or if I was doing the same to him, then neither of us would be obligated to stay.  If I were able to look at my relationship with Rob and clearly see that we would be happier and better off apart, then I would leave him.  

There could be mitigating factors.  How long has it been going on?  What was the attitude at the time - one of nonchalance?  (Ooh!  I just remembered something relevant about a recurring nightmare that I have.  Will share in a minute.)  And is it likely to resolve itself?  Is it something that I personally can overcome within myself?  

What about some other things:  If Rob neglected me and/or the children.  If he was a lousy, rotten father.  If I honestly felt that my children would be better off without him.  It's interesting to throw kids into it, because kids are a different sort of contract.  I agreed to love them NO MATTER WHAT.  There's no conditional aspect of parenthood.  I agreed to protect them, take care of them.  If they were best served by leaving their father, then I would not hesitate to do so, even if I still loved Rob.

And the contract that I made with Rob now includes our children.  We agreed to love, protect, and take care of them together.  I would hope that if I was a lousy mother, he would take the kids and leave me, even if he loved me.  ...  The time when I felt like he was going to make a decision that would potentially endanger our children, I was VERY upset by it.  After it was all over, I told him that if he hadn't backed down, then I would have left him, at least temporarily.  Not as a power play, mind you.  But because that part of the marriage contract had been breached.

Rob, I am POSITIVE, does not think that the conditional part of the marriage contract exists.  But he is aware that it exists for me.  And I wonder if it's not partly a male-female difference.  I have always been afraid of abuse.  And I need a way to protect myself from it.  Feeling that I can't leave a marriage because I love Rob unconditionally, well, that's not a good thing if he's abusing me.  And it forced me, as a thoughtful woman, to come up with my Marriage Contract.  When am I obligated to stay and work it out?  When am I not?  

In the temple we learn that the contract that Eve made with Adam was conditional.  She agrees to listen to what Adam says SO FAR AS Adam listens to the Lord.  So what if Adam stops listening?  Then she doesn't have to listen, that's what (Tamra's interpretation).  The rules change when one side isn't keeping his or her end of the bargain.

...  So, the recurring nightmare that I have.  It's relevant because it spotlights how I feel about marriage, and what I can and can't work with.  I've always wondered why this particular dream has always frightened me, made me so angry, and now I think I understand.  Okay, so the dream, in its many variations involves Rob doing something really, really stupid.  He's slept with another woman.  He has a kid he never told me about.  He makes some other BIG mistake.  And in the dream I usually start with, "Okay, I can work with this.  I can try to see if we can work this out."  And then the part that kills it is when Rob says, "I don't see what the big deal is."  

That nonchalance is a deal breaker.  It means he broke our marriage contract, and he doesn't care.  What Rob and I went through years back*, it was only recoverable, to me, because he cared.  He wanted to change and make things better.  What if he'd said, "Tamra, you should get over it.  It wasn't a big deal."  Well, I would have thought really hard about buying 4 plane tickets to my parents' house, with no return date.  The contract we've made, it's a BIG DEAL.  If he doesn't feel that way, too, then I wouldn't stick around.  

Alright.  Hopefully that made sense and wasn't one jumbly mess.  And even if you don't agree with it (I wasn't trying to convince you that I'm right or anything), then at least hopefully you'll see where I'm coming from.  I absolutely love Rob unconditionally.  But thankfully the Lord made marriage a conditional situation because he loves his children (he has a contract with us, too, does he not?).

* No, I will not tell you about this incident.  Don't ask.

(There may be a Part 2 post coming. ...)

Stolen Paragraph #38

From David McCullough's book, 1776:

"Once, during the Siege of Boston, when almost nothing was going right and General Schuyler had written from Albany to bemoan his troubles, Washington had replied that he understood but that "we must bear up against them, and make the best of mankind as they are, since we cannot have them as we wish."  It was such resolve and an acceptance of mankind and circumstances as they were, not as he wished them to be, that continued to carry Washington through.  "I will not however despair," he now wrote to Governor William Livingston."


Washington was a great man, worthy of the hero worship we still give him.  The Revolutionary War was a shambles, and I'm not sure how we won it, but Washington was an amazing leader and a generous, humble man.  I have a feeling that if I would have met him in person, I'd have been just as awed by him as everyone else was.  Few people are made of such hardy stuff.

God Sees Us Naked

I went for a temple recommend interview wearing my typical outfit:  jeans and a sweatshirt.  Not just any sweatshirt, my beloved Yellowstone sweatshirt.  Best sweatshirt of all time.  And could you believe that the stake presidency member yelled at me for not dressing appropriately?!

Okay, fine, he gently reminded me that perhaps I should think a little harder about what I would wear if I were going to go meet with my Heavenly Father.  He was super, super nice about it.

But here's my angle.  You guys already know that I hate clothes.  Clothes serve a function: they keep us warm or comfortable and generally make it so we don't have to walk around showing our stuff to everyone.  But mostly, clothes are a reflection of culture.  What is appropriate is different to each culture.  This is part of what I hate so much about clothes:  I hate the "this is appropriate and this is not" stuff.  WHY can't my husband wear a blue shirt to church?  WHY can't I wear jeans to church?  WHY am I a slacker if I wear pajamas all day?  WHY is mostly-naked wrong (think native clothing)?  There's no real reason for these things.

What I wear influences how people see me.  I know that.  It's a game we all play, and it's a game I do my best to mock at every turn.  Church seems to me an appropriate place to point out The Game:  We humans are fooled by clothes, but God is not.  God sees right through it all - shouldn't we try to do the same?  See people for who they are, and not be influenced by what they're wearing?  That's the ideal, isn't it?

Do I wish to be disrespectful?  No.  Especially not to The Most Powerful Being in the Universe.  But when it comes down to it, I think that God sees past all the outer stuff, straight to the inner Me.  He sees me naked.

After the interview I told the stake presidency member, "By the way, I would totally wear this to church."  I have worn jeans.  Many times.  And I just recently upgraded from sweatshirts, though I occasionally go back to them for church attire.  He said, "Yes, but would you wear it to meet your Heavenly Father?"

I just barely stopped myself from saying, "I would go naked."  Instead I said, "Yes, I would.  I think He cares a lot less about it than we do."

Second part, though:  I wear garments.  They're a symbol of the commitments I've made to Him, to myself, to my husband and to the world.  Garments are the one item of clothing that I wear that I take seriously.  They have meaning, they have purpose.  They are sacred to me. They aren't part of The Game.

So I quickly added, "But you better believe I'd be wearing my garments!"

Which, honestly, is very much like being naked (mine are pretty much see-through).  And I probably wouldn't need my garments, because God knows what's written on my heart, without the aid of garments.  I would wear them more for my benefit than for His - I take my covenants seriously, and I need to know that for MY sake.

What do you guys think?  What would you wear if you were going to meet with God?

Today I would like to have something magnificent to say.  But I don't. 

So here's to all those great people out there who have only normal things to say.  Huzzah!