Teaching and Learning

I feel that I am preparing to leave London (we have about three months left) just as I am getting adept at living here. I have, for example, just barely figured out the best way to navigate Liverpool Street station with a buggy - where all the lifts are, where the street exits closest to the buses are, etc. I know all the best places to take James now - his favourite parks, the most kid-friendly museums, the restaurants where the servers don't roll their eyes when he knocks his silverware on the floor for the third time. I have online food shopping down cold.

As I was contemplating these things a few days ago, I realised it has been true of many stages of my life - I get good at doing something just as things are drawing to a close and it's time to move on. It is no different with parenting. In the 4+ years that James and I have lived together, it seems that each

time I feel I finally understand how to interact with him, he enters a different stage of development, and I have to learn everything afresh. The tactics that worked so well (okay, worked sometimes) yesterday are rendered obsolete by the swift and unrelenting passage of time. James is a drastically different person than he was six months ago, and by

extension, I am a different mother than I was then.

One of the ways I've changed my strategy is to let go of the outcome of my labours, or acknowledge that I never had true control over it in the first place. James is not a puppy I am housebreaking, but a human being for whom I have stewardship. Not all his successes will be attributable to my efforts, nor will his mistakes be laid at my feet. This is both comforting and bewildering. It would be simpler to have a straightforward cause-and-effect sort of evaluation system for my work; in its place there is intuition and hope that your best will be good enough.

I guess the point is not to be a perfect mother, or even a great mother, from the get-go, though. I did not expect James to be comfortable and capable with his mortal experience from day one; I should not expect myself to be so in my experience as his guardian. It is difficult, though, for someone with my obsessive personality and my desire to do everything "right" to fully embrace the idea that the process of becoming, the journey, is the objective. James and I are teaching each other how to be children of God and to do His will. And while that journey isn't easy, I appreciate the company.

I know that I'm not the first person to articulate these concepts, but I thought at least many of my readers would be able to relate. It is a thrilling adventure, being a mother. I'm always adjusting, recalibrating, discovering new ways to communicate, discipline, and teach. And new ways to learn. Maybe by the time they move out of the house, I'll feel sure-footed and confident. Maybe.

Happy Mother's Day

I had surgery last Tuesday. It was minor, outpatient surgery, but as a result, I have spent most of the last several days in bed, and I won't be able to pick up anything heavy (i.e. James) for several weeks to come. And I've realized how wonderful my support system is. So this Mother's Day, I wanted to pull back the curtain and reveal the real wizards of my motherhood. If James does or is anything good, the following people deserve the credit. If, on the other hand, my mothering fails to measure up, the blame is mine alone.

Micah, my husband and friend and superhero

Micah has done everything, everything to help while I have been recovering. He has taken care of James, washed the clothes, washed the dishes, prepared the food, cleaned the flat, and moved things with solely the power of his mind. I married the most amazing human being on the planet, who bears my many indiscretions, weaknesses, and character flaws with grace and cheerfulness. He has endlessly encouraged and supported me in my role as mother, and I will always be grateful to him for that.

My own saintly Mummy

My mother is a great inspiration to me. She has been such a good example of mothering. When I was a child, she helped me develop my imagination and self worth while simultaneously giving me an anchor of safety and stability in the gospel of Jesus Christ. She is truly amazing when it comes to teaching her children be independent, thinking people who choose to act for themselves and take control of their own destinies. Oh, and she tolerates with longsuffering and great compassion my many whiny phone calls about what a failure I am as a mother.








My tireless Mother-in-law
My mother-in-law is one of the most vocal advocates for yours truly. She never hesitates to tell me what a great job I'm doing as a mother, even though privately she must chuckle at my foibles and my comparative inexperience. She is one of those people that just gives and gives and gives, and you start to wonder if she has any desires for herself other than to serve others. She was the one who took care of me when I was pregnant and miserable, fixing me grits (she is Southern Hospitality personified) and bacon, empathizing with me to no end. She also happily takes care of James when his parents need a break.

Add to this list my father, father-in-law, stepfather, grandfather, grandmother, sisters, brothers, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, other family members, and dear friends, all of whom have functioned as surrogate therapists over the phone or in person or by email as I have tried to muddle through these first few years of motherhood. They have rejoiced in my successes and sympathized with me during my mistakes and shortcomings. Forgive me for not naming you all individually, but know that you are very loved and very appreciated. It does take a village to raise a child, and James and I are very lucky to be part of such a loving and wonderful village.

The Long and Winding Post

I've been meaning to post a lot of little things, but haven't made the time. So now you'll all be subjected to a torrent of miscellanea.

1. Yesterday morning, the entire flat smelled like kippers. That's right, kippers. Micah decided it would be a very British thing to do - so he bought, cooked, and ate some. This event will not be repeating itself anytime soon. Maybe ever.

2. The (insert ordinal here) reason to love British socialism - YMCA nursery vouchers. Yep, I get to go work out at the Y (for free) and leave James in the nursery (for free) up to twice a week. They also have (free) swim classes for James there. We haven't gone to any yet, but I'm planning on trying them out.

3. James and I went to the Sherlock Holmes Museum last Thursday, which is located at "The World's Most Famous Address," according to the promotional material. I will give a cool prize to anyone who actually knows the address Sherlock Holmes fictionally lived at before looking at the above hyperlink.

4. After struggling for the better part of the last 3 1/2 years with motherhood and its trappings, and desiring to define for myself what exactly the essence of being a full-time mom is, I have come up with a Mommy Mission Statement: It is my purpose to promote the healthy spiritual, physical, mental, social, and emotional development of my children. When I think of my daily tasks in this context, it helps me focus on the bigger picture: I'm not just changing another diaper or cleaning up another upturned bowl of cereal; I'm promoting James's healthy physical development. Etc. I would appreciate your thoughts on this.

5. I have looked in a new way at the scriptural account of Jesus, Mary, and Martha in which Martha is "cumbered about much serving" and Mary is sitting at Jesus' feet, listening to "his word." Martha complains; Jesus replies that Mary "hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42.) I am Martha, and instead of being mildly offended and perplexed by this bit of counsel, as I have been up until now, I am suddenly liberated by it. One thing is needful. But the one thing isn't a thing. It's the attitude with which you do the thing - the why and not the what.

6. I saw Juno on Friday evening with my lovely friend, Josie. I really recommend this movie, but not because it was especially "hip" or "smart" or whatever silly label the critics are throwing at it. This movie is getting a lot of critical acclaim, not undeserved, but for the wrong reasons. For me, the film was brilliant and the best I saw all year because it made me really uncomfortable -- in the sense that witnessing a very intimate exchange between two people makes you uncomfortable, or watching an awkward teenager get picked on at school makes you uncomfortable. The characters and storyline draw you in so quickly and completely that when something tragic happens to them, you realize that it's also happening vicariously to you. Juno's fetus becomes a metaphor for how vulnerable she is - and in turn, how vulnerable we all are. And isn't that vulnerability at the heart of what we find beautiful? Why we coo over newborns and love the fact that even Superman has his kryptonite? (*Erik could have written a much better review. Regardless of what he thinks of this movie.)

7. Thoughts about President Hinckley's passing: I am so grateful for a Prophet. Reflecting on President Hinckley's life has increased my testimony of the love our Heavenly Father has for all His children. Yes, we are losing the association of a wonderful person with a smashing sense of humor. But the work goes on, and the Lord has provided someone - will always provide someone - perfectly qualified to take his place. (I wish I could say the same for secular governments.) Watching GBH's funeral also caused me to reflect on how blessed I am to be a part of a very loving and supportive family, and how grateful I am to all of you.