When Dreams Come True

I'm sitting here on the eve of my 46th birthday reflecting on life and thinking, "how did I get here?" To be quite frank, it doesn't seem that long ago that I was hopping into my Guess jeans, pulling hot rollers out of my hair, jetting to school in my Chevette and making plans for the high school prom.

But it was that long ago--30 years to be exact.

My sweet daughter in law, Tessa recently wrote a blog post that really spoke to me. In it she talks about a phrase an older friend uttered to her that made her think. It's got me thinking too.

He said, "Every dream I ever had came true."

It is easy in life to get caught up in all the things that are going "wrong." Wayward children, tight finances, disappointment, stress and worry. I have this bad habit of spending too much time focusing on a problem and not enough time taking a step back to gain perspective. (Thank heavens I have Dave. He's great at talking me off the proverbial ledge). But as I pondered that phrase I realized, all my dreams HAVE come true--the dreams the Lord has for me. You see, quite frankly, He knows what I need best.

He knew that even though it can be awfully challenging raising six kids, that buried somewhere within me is the skill set to do it. Not perfectly and often pretty messily, but I've got it. And it's growing and stretching me in all sorts of uncomfortable (yet amazing) ways.

He knew that my perfect match was a 6 foot tall, Disney loving, scripture quoting, hilarious and devoted man. Has it always been easy? No way--but it's always been right. In fact it's because it's not always easy that it makes it right.

He knew that even though I was a shy, scared of my own shadow, type of child  by putting me in uncomfortable situations I would stretch and grow and learn to love speaking and writing and just chatting up people. That it would lead to amazing opportunities, hidden talents, and surprising friendships.

If you had asked me 30 years ago what I wanted out of life, it would be pretty close to where I am now. Did I see the path that would get me here? No. I wouldn't have chosen some of the trials, the sorrows, the guilt, the hardships. But 30 years ago I didn't know that it would be because of the trials, the sorrows, the guilt, the hardships that all my dreams would come true.

And they have. They really have.

Photo by Fineas Gavre on Unsplash

The Universe is Mocking Me

I'm pretty sure the universe is mocking me. Actually, probably in more than one way but there is one particular area that it seems to be telling me "yeah--we'll see about that."

Those that know me well know that I have a strict "no pet" policy. I'm not making any judgements on those of you that have pets (unless you insist on bringing them into Target strapped to your chest in a baby carrier), and contrary to what my kids think, I do not dislike animals. I just don't want them in the house.

I half jokingly keep a list of why we never have, nor never will have a pet. It starts with the practical (allergies, hair on the furniture, having to hire a sitter when you leave town, etc) and graduates into the psychological (I can't worry about keeping another creature alive and I hate goodbyes). So I'm not willing to budge on the policy.

Nature is mocking my policy.

Currently we have two birds nests taking up residency on or in the house. The first is in the vent over my kitchen window and aside from some slightly obnoxious chirping, it's not that big of deal.  However, the second bird family has decided that right in the front of our house where we park the van is a perfect place to roost which means every time you walk past, a bird swoops out at high rate of speed inches from your head and scares the living daylights out of you, Alfred Hitchcock style.

This comes after a long line of invasive nature issues. First we had to cap the chimney because a giant collection of swifts would roost up there and get stuck inside. There was the infamous mouse episode (which you can read about here) which was followed by the freaky "squirrel in the attic" debacle. And it got worse. One evening I was sitting in the family room and could hear the weirdest squeaking noise. I could not figure out where it was coming through so I started crawling around the room looking for what electronic device was emitting the sound. Eventually I found myself in front of the fireplace and looked up to see two beady eyes staring at me. It was A BAT!!!  That is the epitome of horror because let's be honest, I have some crazy mouse phobia and we all know a bat is just a mouse with wings!  Ughh...I was so worried that bat would squeeze it's way through the cracks in the fireplace screen that I did the only thing I could:

I duct taped my yoga mat to the front of the fireplace and waited for that sucker to perish.

See what I mean???  The universe is mocking me.

I'm starting to see that it's just a metaphor for other things in my life. I've had lots of policies over the years that stemmed from naivete and good intentions, but someone else had other things in mind. My kids make mistakes, plans fall through, choices have to made and lessons learned. I can't quite figure out what the lesson is I'm supposed to learn from these freak invaders but I know there is a lesson there.

And it better not be "get a pet..."

So Much Worry

Anxiety. Depression. Stress. Is it just me or does this seem to be a much bigger problem in recent years? More and more it seems like people of all ages, but particularly children and young adults are suffering with these issues. Why is that?

Dave and I discuss this often. In fact, he is currently writing a book about it (and I can't WAIT for it to come out). Obviously, there's not one easy answer. I think it's over diagnosed. I think we are often too quick to label ourselves or children with something because it in some ways absolves us of responsibility (a notion that I recognize as probably unpopular). It could be the food we eat, our lack of exercise, or watching too much Dateline.  (Though I hope not. I really like Dateline...) There are a bunch of possibilities for why we are seeing the rise in these issues but one is bothering me more than any:

I think we have unrealistic expectations for what life is supposed to look like.

Life is hard.  It's not meant to be easy.  Yet somehow we seem to think that if it is difficult something must be wrong with us. Social media exacerbates this thinking. We see the cute instagram pictures, the celebratory FB posts and we think that everyone else has figured something out that we haven't and therefore something is wrong with us.

I used to think that if I did everything "right" that my life would fall perfectly into place. My kids would make all the "right" choices. My husband's career would go the way he wanted it to. There would be no health or emotional issues, people wouldn't annoy me and squirrels wouldn't roost in my attic.

But guess what?  I WAS WRONG!

Life is hard! But you know what I have also figured out?  There is joy in hard! I used to think it was impossible--to be happy or find joy when something was going "wrong".  I'm no psychologist but I think that we would have a lot less anxiety, stress and depression if we all recognized this and realized we aren't doing something wrong when things get tough.

Everyone has kids who make dumb choices. For heavens sake, WE make dumb choices all the time! (Just ask my kids). There are bills to pay, leaky sinks to fix, weeds to be pulled, family relationships to mend, apologies to be made and mistakes every day to rectify.  And it's supposed to be that way!  I really believe that if we all just realized all of this is NORMAL that we would be a lot less anxious, stressed out and depressed.  We'd realize that we can handle more than we think we can and that there are lessons to be learned in the difficult moments, even joy to be had. In fact, by experiencing the hard things and approaching them head on, we build resilience and see that we are capable of so much more than we thought possible and we truly find joy in the journey.

But then again, I'm no psychologist...just an occasionally stressed out, less than perfect mom.

Some Memories Are Priceless: Our Experience with BYU Vocal Point

Last night while laying in bed I found myself crying.  It's not a super common occurrence for me--usually reserved for times of frustration with parenting teens or touching Disneyland musical performances.  However, last night I just felt so...grateful.

Most of you know that for months Dave and I have been working on getting BYU Vocal Point here to town to perform. (You know that because I can't shut up about it on social media.) When we saw them perform last October I just had this overwhelming feeling that we needed to bring them here to Vancouver. I didn't know why I felt so strongly about it.

Now I do.

We have had the privilege of having these young men (and their delightful stage manager, Sarah) in our home for the last few days. They have eaten meals, rehearsed numbers, and spent a surprising amount of time coordinating outfits for their music video shoot today.  (And I thought picking clothes for family pictures was tough!) We have taken them shopping and sightseeing and to church where they performed probably the best musical number that chapel has ever seen. Tomorrow they will host a workshop for local high school students and an evening fireside for local youth and they will finish it all off with their sold out show Wednesday night.

But none of those things are why I found myself surprisingly emotional last night.

What I have found priceless in this experience is watching these kids interact with my two youngest children.  They have taken the time to really talk with them.  They've treated them like their own little brother and sister. They took prom pictures with Parker and his date when their other plans fell through at the last minute. They have laughed with them, listened, offered advice and encouragement and filled in a bit of the hole left when four older siblings have grown and gone. The other morning I came downstairs to find  Jason and Jantzen singing while Parker played the piano and I was...speechless. Our kids have watched their music videos and followed them on social media. And they were here, in our home, at our piano. These are memories our family will treasure forever.

People have asked me if these boys have attitudes or are full of themselves and the answer is no.  They are humble. Kind. Thoughtful and unfailingly polite. Oh, and they sing really, really well. And we are fortunate that we've shared these few days with them.

And now I'm crying again...


*I hope you have tickets to the show and maybe get a chance to chat with them for a minute. You will see what I mean. And if you don't have tickets?  You can see some of their videos here:

(We have loved housing Jason and Jantzen and these are some fun videos that feature them.  Jason is the one singing "Rewrite the Stars" and swinging around a la Zac Efron)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxIILbNMTHY

(And here is Jantzen whose singing will break your heart a little...)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgBazthb_kY

Apologies and Perspective--Disney Style

I’ve been thinking about perspective and how, as a parent, that changes over the years. What in the moment can feel like disaster, can in the end turn out to be great. To illustrate the point I thought I would share one of the Morgan Family’s legendary stories. And because we are Morgans the story involves…wait for it…Disneyland.

Since Jordan was a baby we have made the annual trek to the Happiest Place On Earth. (It was a whole lot less expensive back in the day). As the family grew so did our costs, but we felt it worthwhile so every summer we’d pack matching t-shirts, a gallon of sunscreen and enough fruit snacks to stock a daycare for a year and off we would go. Now, I’m not going to lie and tell you that taking six kids to Disneyland is a picnic.  Because it’s not. But, since we went annually the kids were generally pretty easy, and we often got stopped and complimented on how well behaved they were. 

Until the infamous “Blue Ribbon Bakery Incident”.

Now, to get the full sense of the situation a little background information is necessary. First of all, we were on day 3 of Disney, it was August and about 90 degrees. Second, Kennedy was an infant cutting her first tooth and I had become the human pacifier—in 90 degree heat. Finally, it was way past lunch time and we had 5 starving kids and a super needy infant. To satisfy everyone’s meal preferences we had to divide and conquer.  Dave headed down Main Street to buy corn dogs for half the kids while I got everyone situated at a table inside the Blue Ribbon Bakery. The bakery is divided into two shops that are connected—one side is the actual bakery while the other holds an ice cream parlor. Dave’s brother was with us at the time and decided he wanted ice cream so he got in that line, which was in clear view of the table the five kids were seated at. Meanwhile, I took the baby and went around the corner to get in line at the bakery. 

The lines were long…

As I’m finally getting my order I hear a huge commotion from the other room and I am mortified to realize that it sounds exactly like 5 Morgan kids in various states of distress. I grab my food and the baby and practically run to the adjoining ice cream shop where I see…three Morgan boys crying and two Morgan boys in a knock down drag out fight IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BAKERY!!!  Luckily, about this time, Dave comes in brandishing corn dogs and between the two of us we get the two boys apart, dry the tears of the other three boys (it’s amazing what a corn dog and soda will do) and of course, I’m back to being the human pacifier. (It should be noted that Uncle Mike was STILL in line watching this whole fiasco go down and when asked why he didn’t break up the fight he said—and I quote—“I didn’t want to lose my place in line.")

That night after we returned to the hotel and discussed the Morgan Family Debacle, we gathered some paper and had the boys attempt to atone for their deeds. And thus the famous apology note was penned:

Dear Blue Ribbon Bakery,

I’m sorry I got in a fight in the middle of your bakery.  Can you ever forgive me?

Sincerely,

Jordan Morgan

Needless to say, this “adventure” has become a part of our family folklore and it made me think today about perspective. You see, when I was in the middle of this situation I was embarrassed, angry, and disappointed. I mean, an hour before we were just stopped by a random stranger to say how impressed she was at our well behaved children, and now we were the subject of sideways looks and eye rolls. But now, we LOVE that story!  Every time we return to Disneyland and stroll past the bakery for the first time, we say, “Remember when…?”  And then we all have a good laugh. (I actually never mailed that letter—I thought it was just too priceless.)

I think a lot of life’s trials are like that.  When we are in the middle of them we are embarrassed or disappointed, or angry.  But as we work through them and time marches on, our perspective changes and we can look back and appreciate the lessons we learned.  As for us, we learned that 3 days at Disney in August with a nursing baby might be too much...

(Here they are--matching shirts and all.  Sadly, Kennedy was where she was for 90% of the trip--attached to me...)

Four Things I Learned While Having The Flu

So much for the Morgan's Wolverine genes.  The flu has struck.  Aches, pains, lack of appetite, stuffiness, inability to sleep and the hacking cough have arrived in full force.  At first, when Parker came down with it we went for containment.

We were unsuccessful.

And so as I sit here in my pajamas that I've worn for the last four days straight I thought I would share with you what I've learned so far about the flu.  Here you go:

1.  There is such a thing as too much Candy Crush

Who knew?  I am at the point now where I get physically nauseous when the Candy Crush screen comes up.  And yet I still play--because it's the only game I have on my phone and it takes all the energy I have to curse those chocolate bombs.

2.  The cough that comes with the flu is the equivalent of an extreme weight lifting session--every 20 minutes.

I am not joking!  I feel like I have bench pressed 150 pounds for twenty minutes straight.  (Note:  150 pounds would be A LOT for me).  I didn't even know I had muscles where I am currently sore.  This is most definitely not fair as the only calories I am burning is from playing Candy Crush...

3.  The Jimmy Legs...

Did you know that you can get "Restless Leg Syndrome"  (aka:  "The Jimmy Legs," as defined by Kramer) from taking certain cold medicines?  I testify that you, indeed, can.  The first night I thought I was going crazy when I would just settle in to sleep after taking my Advil PM and then have this over powering urge to get up and walk which would last for hours!  I thought that in my flu induced mental state I was imagining this but according to "the internet" this is a real thing.  At least I know I'm not going crazy...yet.  Also, no more Advil PM for me, dang it.

4.  I Have The Best Friends/Family

Alright, I already knew that, but I tend to take them for granted.  Lots of people have texted/called/dropped off Oreos and it does make me feel loved, and missed.  And also a little guilty because I could be a better friend...Maybe that's why I'm sick--to learn a lesson or two.

I have high hopes that we are on the downward side of this wretched flu sickness.  I sure hope so because between the Jimmy Legs and Candy Crush I may just lose it..

A New Year, A New Me?

I've always loved the concept of a new year and a new start.  It's cliche, I know, to set a bunch of new year's resolutions but I don't care--I love it!  As some of you know, I've been wrestling with some of the changes in my life and what direction I want/should head and frankly, I'm a bit flummoxed.  My whole adult life has been spent caring for a house full of kids and those kids are flying the coop at lightning speed.

The bottom line is this:  I don't know what in the heck the future holds or what I'm supposed to be doing.  It's pretty annoying,slightly frightening and results in a lot of late night worrying, but I figure that until I receive a lighting bolt from heaven (or even a gentle nudge) that I can work on some goals that will make me a better person.  That's the theory anyway...

So for 2018 I'm conquering one goal a month and I hope to blog more frequently about it.  Feel free to follow along as I document my successes, failures and life lessons I learn along the way.

JANUARY GOAL:  BECOME A MORNING PERSON

I am a night owl.  At least I used to be a night owl.  I found that I was most productive in the hours after my house was quiet and it was nothing to be up until 2 or 3 am plodding away on some project.  But as I get older I find that 8:00 pm rolls around and I'm ready to be done for the day.  Which wouldn't be so terrible if I could get myself going at an earlier hour.  My husband is a morning person and I've always been so jealous of the fact that he wakes up without an alarm and can get more done in his first 3 hours of the day than I seem to accomplish in 8 of mine.

This goal isn't going to be easy because let's be frank, I wake up thinking about how I can get back in bed.  Is 9:00 am too early for a nap?  But I really think that if I can make progress in this one area it's going to help me in the other 11 goals I have planned for the year.  I think...

Step 1:  Purchase a "Happy Light".  I'd heard good things about these little lights and even if it's a bunch of mumbo jumbo, as long as I believe it there has got to be some placebo effect right?  I have to say, that so far, so good.  It could all be in my head but I think it's helping--when I remember to turn it on.

Step 2:  Eat breakfast within 30 minutes of waking.  I'm reading a book that talks about the importance of this for maintaining a healthy weight but I figure if I can get myself downstairs and noshing on my toast and protein shake from the start, it will be much harder to get back into bed.  That's the idea anyway...

Step 3:  Hit the gym.  I know for myself that if I don't get my exercise in first thing in the morning it is highly unlikely to happen.  And once I put on the track to "The Greatest Showman" and start beating the heck out of my punching bag, it gets the juices flowing.

So there it is--my January goal.  So far I'd say I'm about 50% successful.  I've got work to do so I'm gonna turn on that Happy Light and suck down my shake.  Wish me luck!