When I was a young adult, moving into the marriage and family mindset, I had some ideas of what I would and wouldn’t do or allow as a parent.
I always figured my kids would stay up late sometimes, and eat junk food on a regular basis. But, I never thought I would do or allow these things:
1. Let the kids eat food in the car, or while walking around the house.
To be fair, I still don’t prefer this, but sometimes, the only way to keep kids happy on long car trips is to let them eat. And keeping the kids sitting at the table sometimes takes more energy than I have left for the day.
2. Eat and drink after the kids.
If you have ever really just watched little kids eat, there is a lot of drool, double dipping, and backwash going on. It is kind of gross. For some reason, though, when it is your kid, it isn’t so gross. And, in my case, I hate wasting food. If my kids don’t want to finish something yummy, like ice cream, or cake, you better believe I am finishing it up.
3. Take the kids places when they are in disarray.
I used to judge the parents who took sticky and stained kids out in public. Now, I understand. Little kids don’t let you clean them up well. Plus, it takes like 30 minutes just to get them ready to get out of the house. Sometimes you just don’t have that kind of time. And shoes? Well, sometimes I assume my husband put them on, and sometimes he assumes I did, and well, sometimes neither of us did it. They’ll be fine.
4. Let them make huge messes.
I don’t do this often, but sometimes, I allow the kids to do messy, chaotic things because I know it will be a memory we will all laugh at later. I used to just stop them and get mad. Now, I see the joy in their faces, and the bonds they make with each other as they spray each other with the hose, throw rice in the air, or paint themselves instead of a picture.
5. Make contact with my kids’ snot and boogers.
Sometimes, your kids need a tissue and you just don’t have it. My fingers more than once have been used to swipe away snot, and to pick out big boogers.
I know, gross. Well, other times my little ones are really sad, and they want to snuggle and give me kisses when they have snot running down their faces. Do I push them away? I couldn’t do that, so I go ahead and kiss their snotty faces, and let them wipe the rest on my sleeve.
6. Roughhouse with them.
I always thought this would be their dad’s job. It is when Daddy’s home, but my three boys want to wrestle, ride on shoulders, and swing around just as much when Daddy isn’t home. My shoulders, arms, legs and back are much stronger than they would be without my boys.
7. Let them sleep with my husband and me.
The kids never start out in bed with us. Sometimes, though, they wake up in the middle of the night. The little ones always come to our room for comfort. We are usually way too tired to sing to them, talk to them, get them stuff, and then put them back to bed. So, we usually hoist them up and lay them in between us. Only when they start kicking us, rolling on top of us, or smacking us, do we put them back in their rooms.
8. Give in to their cuteness.
In our house, we have rules that we try to enforce. It is much easier to enforce these rules when the kids are school-aged. When they are little, though, they are still so adorable. I usually can see past it, but my husband is a sucker for their little eyes, smiles, and pouts. So, sometimes I give in because he does.
I am ashamed to say that sometimes, I even go so far as to laugh when I am reprimanding them, just because they are so adorable.
9. Be the disciplinarian.
This is another one I expected Daddy would do, since that was how it was in my house growing up. But, since I am like my dad, this is more my thing. As I mentioned above, I don’t give in as easily as my husband. I have always been a rule follower, so I expect my kids to do the same. I am not always proud of how I discipline, but I see this as a growing opportunity to help me control my temper, and be gentler.
10. Talk about uncomfortable things in great detail.
I have two little ones, but I also have an older child. I have talked to him about many serious issues in great detail, like sex, pornography, puberty, bullying, etc. I got the watered down version of most of this at school and church, probably because family and teachers hoped the less I knew, the less I would do. Though some of these things can be uncomfortable to talk about, I have realized that as I educate my child about these important issues before outside forces do, he is better prepared for what will come up outside of the home.
At the end of the day, are my kids healthy and happy? Are they educated, loved, and looked after? Yes! So, it is just fine with me that I am a different kind of parent than I thought I would be.
To all the women out there who have chosen not to have children,
I am writing to you as a wife and a mother. You may expect me to judge you, and to tell you what you have probably heard many times – that you are selfish or must not value family.
It may be hard for me to understand how you chose not to be a mother, but rather than judge you for this personal decision, I instead will respect you as I would anyone else.
Because I know life certainly does get harder when you have kids, and that parenthood is a life-long sacrifice, I actually do understand many of the reasons why women do not want children:
Social pressure
I am sure you don’t like being pressured to have children. I agree that this choice should be made between husband and wife. Only peace and joy should surround you as you choose to conceive.
Fear of pregnancy, delivery and body changes
I admit that pregnancy can be uncomfortable, and delivery excruciating. Why then do women do it, and then do it again? For me, as I hold my new baby in my arms, I forget about everything but the overwhelming love I have for my little angel from Heaven. As a mom of three now, my body has changed a lot. However, I believe my stretch marks and stomach pudge are a testament to the loving sacrifice I made to bring my sweet babies to the world.
No more freedom
It is true that when you have kids, you have to think about their well-being in every decision you make, and every place you go. Your hobbies and interests can’t take center stage anymore. Even though this is one of the hardest parts of being a mom, I am grateful that I have learned to put others’ needs before my own, helping me be happier and humbler. I have also learned to balance my life so that I can still stimulate my mind, and do things I like to do. It is a matter of multitasking, prioritizing, and simplifying, all skills I have better developed being a mom.
Husband on back burner
You can still cleave to your husband when you have children. You may not have the quantity of alone time you want, but the quality of love you have for each other can be magnified as you observe each other loving, playing with, and teaching your children, and when you witness precious moments together.
Couples striving to be better parents will develop into better spouses.
Wicked world
You might believe the world is too wicked to bring more children into it. If so, I say, who better than couples who recognize the world is wicked to have and raise children? Your home would become a sanctuary from the outside forces. You would raise your children to be good, righteous people, who would be an influence for good amongst their peers and in the world. People will always have children. We need more good parents to raise them.
Already an aunt
Are you just happy being an aunt who can give the children back? I know that you must love your nieces and nephews dearly. I personally have loved many children in my life, but no love has ever come close to the true, pure love I feel for my own children who are half me and half my husband, who I helped create, who I had a bond with before they were born, who rely on me and their dad for everything, and who love me back, and trust me more than anyone else in the world.
Perhaps it is tempting to want to be able to give back a child so you don’t have to worry about the mundane things, or the tantrums, chaos and stress. Trust me, though – for you own children, you would love them enough to do anything, for they need you to help them thrive. When you are raising your own children, you are also able to better learn from their sweet, Christ-like examples of love, forgiveness, humility, and so much more.
Not qualified
Take heart if you are a woman who doesn’t think you have what it takes to be a good mother. Becoming a good parent is a journey for all mothers, even those who seem to know what it takes. Moms are supposed to be patient, temperate and gentle – all things I personally need to work on. There is no better way for me to develop those skills, and so many others, than by devoting much of my life to raising my children. With motivation, hard work, study, family support, and a lot of prayer, any woman can be a good mother.
You might simply be a woman who never felt she wanted children, so you haven’t.
I don’t want to pressure you to change your mind. My humble suggestion to you is to keep God close. Pray to Him for guidance and direction. Ask Him if the decisions you make, and have made, are right for you, for your husband and for your spiritual growth. Be open to His will, no matter how difficult.
I know as I keep God close to me, and make Him a partner in my marriage, I am able to make decisions that will most benefit me temporally and spiritually. I am able to endure well all of the trials and worries that come my way. I am able to magnify my callings and roles, including that of a mother. I think that is why even though being a mother is the hardest role I play, it is also one of the most beautiful, precious and growing opportunities of my life.
Perhaps, after praying sincerely, with an open heart, your mind will see things differently. No matter what God’s answers are for you, if you follow them, you can live your life with peace.
A woman once said she would rather regret not having children, than having children. By making your decisions with God, you won’t have to regret anything.
I believe the most wonderful influence we will ever have will be in our own homes. It is for you, your spouse, and God to determine who will live within those walls. May God bless you.
This post is part of a blogger round-up with these fabulous bloggers! Make sure to visit each to read what they are sharing about the divine roles of fathers and mothers.
I was not my mom’s first pregnancy. She had lost a baby before me. That tragedy would make it even harder to handle the trauma of her second pregnancy: me.
I was due around August 17, 1984, but I was born June 21, 1984. I was eight weeks early.
On June 16, 1984, my mother was working the cash register at Kmart. By the time her shift ended, her ankles were completely swollen, and she was in so much pain, she could barely walk.
My dad had come to pick her up from work, like he always did. Upon evaluating his wife’s condition, he told her manager firmly that this was her last day.
My mom took it easy the rest of that day and the next. In the middle of the night on the 17th, she got up to go to the bathroom. On the way there, blood started gushing from her body.
In a panic, my dad quickly drove her to Chippenham Hospital in Richmond. On the way, my mother was having painful contractions.
At the hospital, she found out the reason why she was hemorrhaging: the placenta was tearing away from her uterus. (My mom actually has a misshapen uterus. It looks kind of like a heart because there is a wall going down the center of it.)
She got medication to stop the contractions. Throughout the night, my mom also got multiple ultrasounds to check on her unborn baby’s lungs.
She did not sleep at all that night. She was put on complete bed rest, and had to stay in the hospital for the next four days.
On the evening of the 21st, since she hadn’t had any issues, the doctors let her get up to use the bathroom on her own.
Immediately after my mom got out of bed, she started hemorrhaging again. She was rushed back to bed, and the ultrasounds started again to check my lungs. I can’t imagine how scared she must have been.
My dad was not at the hospital during that time, because he was at school. While in class, he got a prompting to go to the hospital, so he left early.
When he got there, he saw my Nana and Granddad (my mom’s parents), who had been there anyway for a visit. When he found out what was happening, phone calls were made to my aunt Kathy, my aunt Betsy, and my Grandma (my dad’s mom) to come to the hospital. Back then there were no cell phones, so it was a blessing that they all responded and could be there for my parents.
Because of her intense hemorrhaging, my rapidly decreasing heart rate, and breech position, Dr. Crooks prepared for an emergency C-section, where my mother would have to go under general anesthesia.
Before the operation, Dr. Crooks allowed one person, other than my father, to visit my mother. My aunt Betsy (my dad’s sister), and my aunt Kathy (my mom’s sister), fought over who would get to see her. My Nana remembers Kathy firmly saying,” She is my sister.” Needless to say, Kathy was the one who got to see my mom.
Sadly, nobody, not even my dad, was able to be with her during the actual C -section, but my mom wasn’t afraid. She simply pled to Dr. Crooks, “Please save my baby.”
He responded to her, “We are going to save you first.”
That was when my mother realized that not only was my life in danger, hers was too. That thought was the last thing she remembered before going under.
My dad wanted so badly to be with my mother, but he had to stay in the waiting area with everyone else. What made it even more traumatic, was that the doctor told everyone that they might lose one or both of us.
My family gathered in a circle and prayed. My Nana said she believed it was Granddad who offered that prayer.
My dad remembers crying bitterly, and then the warm embrace of his mother comforting him.
All they could do was wait, with prayers in their hearts.
Finally, they were told that I had been born, and that Mom was okay. I was born at 9:30 PM, a mere 3 pounds 10 ounces, and 17 inches long.
When my mom finally awoke from the general anesthesia, she got the wonderful news that I had survived. Her face fell, though, as she was told she wouldn’t be able to see me yet.
Dad had seen me though, and held me. He could cradle me in one large, strong hand.
He, and the rest of my family, watched as I was prepped with needles, IVs, tubes, and a u-shaped tank over my head to provide me with oxygen. Right as they were about to attach something to my heart, the curtains were closed.
I had to be rushed to MCV because there was no NICU at Chippenham Hospital. My mom was not able to see me before I was taken away.
Dad went with me in the ambulance, unable to visit my mom first. She stayed behind, enduring her intense pain and exhaustion.
When I got to MCV, I was put in an incubator. My dad was allowed to go beyond the glass in scrubs, but nobody else was.
Meanwhile, my mother’s good friend from work, Robin, also had her baby, full term. They were put in the same hospital room. The nurse brought Robin her baby and then asked my mom if she wanted hers.
Her heart aching, she said, “My baby isn’t here.”
This is a picture of me with Robin’s baby when we were about 2 months old.
She wasn’t able to see or hold me, but her heart was with me. She also helped me survive by pumping milk for me to be fed through a feeding tube that went down my throat into my tiny stomach, because I had not yet developed my sucking reflex. I only ate about 2 CCs of milk at a time.
I also had acid reflux and couldn’t digest food on my own. Because of that, I had to take medication. Thankfully, I never was put on a respirator, but I was given oxygen to help me breathe.
Two days after I was born, my mother finally got to go to MCV to see me. My dad drove her there, and wheeled her to me in a wheelchair.
My Nana, who had been having a lot of hemorrhaging issues herself, was scheduled for a hysterectomy that same day. Before her surgery, she watched my mother go to my bassinet to hold me for the first time.
She recalls my mother’s initial look of horror at looking at me with all my wires attached. Then, the most precious moment happened: as soon as I was placed in her arms, it was as if a switch was flipped. Her horror, in an instant, transformed to “total, perfect, and complete love.” Nana had never seen anything like it in all her life. It was such a change.
While Dad was in the room with the two girls he loved most in the world, he watched the rest of the family “cry like a baby” behind the glass as they saw this true love unfold.
Nine days after being in the hospital, my mom was finally able to go home. She and my dad came to visit me at MCV every day, and she continued to pump milk for me, until I was also healthy enough to go home. My dad recalls what “a pain” it was to drive back and forth every day, not knowing when they would be able to take me home.
They were told so many times that in just a day or so, they would be able to take me. Then, they would be told no because I wasn’t digesting well enough, and hadn’t gained enough weight.
As my parents visited MCV during that period of time, they met many families with premature babies. Babies passed away all the time. One day the parents would be there, and the next day they would be gone because their baby had not survived the night. It was heartbreaking.
After being at MCV for a month, my parents could finally take me home. I weighed in at a humble 4 pounds 5 ounces.
That same day, my mom finally had her baby shower, while my dad and aunt Kathy watched over me.
Everyone had to shop at a special preemie store to buy clothes and diapers for me. It was located right next to a friend’s, Steve Montrose’s, carpet store. To give me an idea of how small I was, my dad said my diapers were about the size of a Cabbage Patch Kid’s.
When my parents took me home, they also took home a heart monitor. I had a heart monitor at MCV too, and it constantly had to be re-calibrated, so my parents were a little anxious. There was a Velcro band that had to be wrapped around me, with wires attached. I slept with the wires underneath my little sleepers.
The reason I need the monitor was because I had sleep apnea. My parents were told to shake my leg any time the monitor went off and I stopped pumping blood.
At first, the heart monitor went off all the time, scaring my parents to death. They got no sleep that first night because they were so worried about me. They were so relieved that I made it through that first night. It was actually hard for them to sleep any night. Every time that monitor went off, they ran and checked on me. I had this monitor for six months! My dad told me that my little chest was concaved from having that band around me all that time.
My health was not the only thing that heavily burdened my parents. They also went into huge debt after my birth. My mom had gotten pregnant before their health insurance went into effect, so when she had me, her hospital bills were not covered. Luckily, mine were because I was an emergency delivery. My parents would receive many calls and letters from collection agencies, causing them a lot of stress.
My mother reminisced with me about her feelings during this time of new motherhood. She had been only 22 years old, dealing with the anxiety of having a premature baby who needed so much care. She pondered on how she could have lost her life in the delivery room. She felt so blessed to be alive and to still have me. She said I wasn’t even as small as some of the babies born later term than me. She had been told that baby girls are stronger and fight more, so she was so glad I had been a daughter.
She tried to nurse me after bringing me home, but it was so hard since I had never nursed before. By then, I had gotten used to a bottle. My mom was so worried I would lose weight and go back to the hospital, she started me on formula. Thankfully, I slowly started to thrive.
When I was two months old, Dad gave me my baby blessing at church. My Nana and Granddad had purchased my beautiful blessing gown from the preemie store. Of course, my family thought I looked beautiful, but my dad remembers an audible gasp in the congregation when he held me up.
Nana, Mom, and aunt Kathy with me
I continued to grow, though, and at six months old, I no longer needed my heart monitor.
For Christmas that year, my present, and my parent’s present, was no more wires for me!
To celebrate my new freedom, Nana and Granddad presented me with a huge, and super soft polar bear – the softest stuffed animal they had ever felt.
Nana remembers when I first saw it, I looked at it like, “What am I supposed to do with that?” She chuckled softly as she thought about that moment.
I thrived, and my mom said I ended up being as big and chunky as her friend, Robin’s, son, who had been born full term on the same day.
This is the first picture of me in photo albums where I started to look chunky.This picture makes me laugh!
Apparently, I also got prettier. A friend of my family, Gisela Tetterton, said that I was the prettiest baby she had ever seen.
Nana said that I grew quickly because I had a very strong spirit. Physically, because of my underdeveloped esophagus, I could have easily died. But, I didn’t. She is sure it is because of my spirit.
To her, it has been evident ever since. I have always been determined to be what I wanted. That strong spirit still remains, Nana says, a spirit equaled only by my mother’s spirit.
Nana said that my mom was determined that I would survive so that she could love and rear me. She was willing to have more children, even though she had miscarried her first baby, and almost lost me.
Mom, Dad, me, and my baby brother, Aaron.
Nana confidently said that there was no way, with the combination of her daughter’s mental and spiritual capacities that things wouldn’t have turned out beautifully.
She lovingly told me that I am spiritually strong like my mother. My mom had just come that way, just like me. Nana believes that is because she was pregnant with my mother the day she was sealed in the LDS temple to Granddad, and her first baby, Danny. She always felt having her there in the womb had something to do with mom’s spiritual side.
My Nana knows how to make me cry. Her love is pure and strong. She told me that she treasures all of the pictures of me as a baby laughing and smiling, especially at her and Granddad. Because of the situation surrounding my birth, Nana has always had a sweet spot for me. My whole life, we have sung “I love you, a bushel and a peck” to each other. She is just as special to me as I am to her.
I know my parents were grateful for all the help my grandparents and other family members gave to them in my very difficult first several months of life.
When I was 1 year old, MCV had a reunion at Maymont Park in Richmond. For my parents, it was wonderful to be reunited with the nurses that had loved me and taken such good care of me. I hadn’t even been the smallest baby they had ever seen, which only reiterated what a miracle it was that I lived.
I still have that bear I got on my first birthday.My whole life, I celebrated my birthday with my Granddad, whose birthday was one day after mine.
When I was in the hospital, my parents were told that I could have mental or physical disabilities from being born so early, but another miracle is, I never did. I grew up healthy and happy.
To this day, I have scars on my hands and feet from the IVs. My mother still has a very crooked scar on her lower abdomen from her emergency C-section. My parents have a joke that Dr. Crooks “couldn’t cut a straight line.”
These scars are something to be grateful for, to hold sacred. They are a memory of God saving two lives, one of them being mine. I will eternally be grateful to my Heavenly Father for giving me the opportunity to live on earth, and to be raised by such loving parents.
I have never been so grateful for my parents as I am now, now that I have finally heard all of their memories of my birth, and the first very difficult six months of my life.
My dad told me that when I was two, I never went to bed when I was told. I got out of bed so many times, and often I would be found sleeping at the foot of my parents’ bed. I remember doing that when I was older too. I am sure it was because of the true love I felt for my parents, knowing their love and devotion kept me alive and nourished me into a healthy little girl.
I am so happy that they took a great leap of faith to have more babies after me. My life has been blessed beyond measure by having siblings.
Eddie and Laura Thacker have helped me become the woman I am today. I am so grateful for their examples and for all they do for me and my sweet family now.
Most of all, I am grateful to be alive, when it makes no sense that I am. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan and a mission for me. I owe it to Him to serve Him my whole life, and serve His children. I hope to help save souls just as He has saved my life.
I know that miracles happen. I have had many of my own. I will be eternally grateful for all of them.
Note: This was my perspective at the time I wrote this post. It is ever-changing and is no longer completely accurate here.
I have a brother who is funny, kind, intelligent, musically gifted, a friend to all, and a very supportive and loving uncle and brother. He is someone I respect and love with all of my heart, and one with whom I share many happy, and hilarious, memories. He also happens to be openly gay.
When he asked me to watch a documentary last year called “For the Bible Tells Me So”, I gladly agreed to watch it. It was a documentary that greatly affected me. I sent my brother my most sincere thoughts and feelings from the film:
…As I watched and heard some of the views people have, I was astounded. I always knew there were prejudiced people out there, but I didn’t realize there were so many gay-bashing people, especially Christians.
As a devout Christian, I can say that I know that Christ would never condone this hatred and persecutions of gays. He loves all people equally and tells us to love all people, and to forgive all people, and to judge no one.
I am in total agreement with a lot of the points: you can’t change a person who is gay. Being gay is not a choice. Forcing a gay person to hide his orientation is detrimental. SSA is not a disorder or illness. I agree with all of that, and so does [The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints].
I agree that often the Bible is taken out of context, and I appreciated the interpretations of what some of the scripture passages in the Bible might have actually meant. I think the reason there are so many Christian churches is because people pick and choose what to believe from the Bible, and [also] study passages out of context.
I have so much sympathy for what gays go through. I have not even thought of this, but I imagine you have gone through persecution in your life. I hope not; I really do.
I wasn’t there when you came out to Mom and Dad, but I commend you for being honest and telling them everything… That must have made them sad because I think all parents hope their kids will get married and have kids of their own.
Mom and Dad never expected to have a gay child, but they did. I am totally aware there is a possibility one of my children could also be gay. If that is the case, I would want him to be honest with me, and I would still love my child with all my heart.
I got a lot out of the documentary. I found I related the most to the black family in Haw River, which is only like five minutes from Mebane, where they love their daughter, but don’t rejoice or encourage her lifestyle.
Now, as I say that, I have thought a lot of what it must be like to be gay. I am not, so I can’t have that empathy. However, if I were gay, I would imagine that I would want what most anybody wants: a romantic, long-lasting relationship. Suppressing that desire would be so difficult, and being confident, while being a widely misunderstood and feared minority, would be a definite struggle.
Aaron, my heart is with you, and I do not judge you or hate you or fear you or find you in any way disgusting. You are my brother and I love you with all my heart. Out of all my siblings, you are the one I bond with the most. I [also] have many gay friends, and have always been comfortable around them…
I will always believe, however, that marriage should be between one man and one woman. It is not because I hold on to those few Bible verses. It is not because I have a huge passion for the definition of marriage. It is because I have a strong testimony of God and of [modern day] prophets. I believe that God knows more than we do, and that sometimes He has commandments that don’t seem fair or make sense to us as humans. I believe someday we will understand.
Here is what I do understand: life on earth is short. Life after death will go on forever. This life is a time to prepare to meet God. If I am a true disciple of Christ, my focus should be not on how to bring happiness to others on earth only, but to bring happiness to people in this life, and especially in the life to come. God always meant for a man and woman to be together. Only through that union can children be brought into this world. True joy comes from this family unit.
You may ask, why then would He allow people to be gay? That is a question I have too. I think out of all struggles, that would be one of the hardest.
That is the extent of my understanding and my testimony. I don’t understand everything. I don’t hold the stance I do because I am bigoted or because I don’t want equality. I have the stance simply because that is what I believe God wants. That doesn’t mean I am totally comfortable with it. Being a Christian sometimes means taking leaps of faith, and walking in the dark until God reveals more light.
At the end of the documentary, one of the parents said that she wants to help the churches change. If Christ is the head of Christianity, only He can change His doctrines. Otherwise, the church would be a man’s church. I disagree with her opinion, but I do agree that Christians need to act like Christians and accept gay people into their congregations and into their hearts.
I hope this commentary gives you some kind of peace and clarity, if there was ever a thought in your mind that I didn’t love you as much because you are gay. I hope you never ever think that because it is not true…
I wrote this message to my brother nearly a year ago now. I meant every word I said, and I still believe it with all of my heart.
I know my brother, and many other people are ecstatic about the recent Supreme Court ruling, legalizing gay marriage in all 50 states. I understand why they are happy. When I first found out my brother was gay, 10 years ago, I was actually very adamant about supporting gay marriage because I wanted my brother to be able to be happy, and to have the union that I had with my spouse.
My feelings have changed since, but not because I love my brother less (in fact, I am closer to him now than I have been in a long time).
Rather, my feelings have changed because I have recognized that I have a duty, as a baptized member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to stand as a witness of God at all times and in all things and in all places.
I have taken more seriously the first and great commandment, which is “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” I know that to love my God with all my heart, I must keep all of his commandments, not just some of them. If I believe that God created the divine institution of marriage, than I must choose to follow Him by supporting His definition of marriage. I can still love one another as I obey this commandment.
I have tried to start living my life by considering good, better, and best options. To me, the best way is always God’s way.
The problem is, we differ in our definitions of God’s way, and many people do not even believe in God, or believe in a different god.
To quote from Fiddler on the Roof, “He’s right and he’s right? How can they both be right?” Tevye, whose previous comments provoked this puzzlement, answers and says, “You know, you are also right.”
No, it cannot be both ways. Either traditional marriage is right or gay marriage is right. They cannot both be right.
I must believe and do what I believe is right. I believe God is still speaking, and that He has upheld his charge that marriage should be between a man and a woman only. I have seen the blessings of leaving my parents and cleaving to my spouse. I know that there are divine roles for both men and women, which when combined in righteous unity, can lead to harmony in the home, and provide the most ideal setting for raising children.
As I do what I believe is right, I certainly do not want to be contentious, or contribute to any feelings of division in our land. Know that I believe everyone is a child of God, and are loved equally by Him. We all endure various trials over the course of our lifetimes. We will also be tempted, and oftentimes succumb to that temptation. We are always equal for these reasons, and we must treat each other as such.
To both sides, I plead to please stop the hate. Please stop the fighting and name-calling. We do not understand everything about each other, God, or even ourselves. Rather than divide ourselves because of our differences, let’s unite because of our similarities.
I recently asked Aaron if he was offended that I often eat at Chick-fil-A, a company that is very pro traditional marriage. His answer is a profound ending to this discussion, and something I hope we can all reflect on:
It doesn’t bother me at all, actually. I even have had it in the last couple of months. It did bother me at first; I didn’t want to support a business that didn’t align with my political and personal views. But then I thought, do I want to encourage destruction or growth? By encouraging myself and others not to go there, in protest, I was hoping in some roundabout way that their business would fold. If enough people stopped going, they would be FORCED to change or fold. On the other hand, by continuing to go there in love and peace, I am encouraging growth and acceptance in Chick-fil-A’s employees. I want to promote understanding, not violence. I can’t do that if I’m not present.
Update: My brother and I had a lovely conversation about my post. He even had a stranger message him and thank him for his example. In our conversation, Aaron said something profound, a message I had actually almost written myself. I suppose it needs to be shared:
If #lovewins is to really mean anything, we must treat all with love! Not just those with whom we agree on any given matter.
This post is part of a blog hop with these wonderful bloggers! We’re talking about our marriages, giving tips, and sharing what we’ve learned, but most importantly defending traditional marriage between a man and a woman.
I wrote this article for Family Share. It feels good to know I can help others through sharing my experiences and lessons learned during difficult times of my life:
It is hard to know when you should date after a divorce. I was 21 years old and a recent college graduate, trying to raise my baby boy. I had just moved across the country to a place I had never been. For me, whether I was ready or not, the first thing I wanted to do was date.
Everyone who divorces has a different story, but most of us share feelings of failure, fear and desperation. We are trying to fill the void in our hearts caused by losing our spouse. While change is difficult, dating when you aren’t ready can make things even more challenging.
I wish I had known then what I realize now about dating after a divorce. I know that I would have avoided tears, frustration, and a few heartbreaks. There is not a cookie cutter rule on when you should start dating again. The goal is for you to have healthy and happy dating relationships, but no one but you can say when that will be. However, you can get an idea of where you stand by answering “yes” to these eight questions:
1. Do I live each day without wallowing in self-pity?
If you spend most of your time weeping about all that has happened to you and can’t imagine moving on, you are not ready to date again. Divorce is horrible, I know. And it is okay to cry sometimes. But if you can’t see hope, dating will not help you find it.
2. Have I moved on from my ex?
If you are still in love with your ex, you will probably compare everyone you date to him or her. It will be impossible to find anyone who is good for you if you are only dating to compare. Stop measuring every date against your former spouse and treat dating as a fresh start.
If you aren’t over your ex, you may also find yourself mentioning your ex one too many times which will push your date away. Take the time to be over your ex before you start dating again.
3. Am I ready to talk about my past?
When you are dating, at some point you will need to talk about your past. I remember when I was newly divorced, I was scared to death to tell any young man about it. I especially didn’t want to tell my date that I also had a baby boy. I was afraid that no man would accept me because of my past. Sometimes I would hide it until it became impossible to continue dodging questions.
I realized that I needed to be ready to talk about my past. By the time I met my second husband, I was at a point where I could talk about my past almost right away. It went smoothly, and I didn’t regret it.
4. Am I happy where I am now?
In my early divorced days, I thought I couldn’t be happy unless I was remarried. Especially as a single mother, I wanted my life to be a certain way. I was engulfed with an urgency to date and get married. I am sure I came off as desperate.
Because I was so focused on wanting a life as a married woman, I missed out on some true friendships. I missed out on having fun and truly appreciating the joys and blessings that I still had in my life. Although this isn’t what you thought your life would be like, you can learn to be happy in your situation.
5. Do I love myself?
If you don’t love yourself, dating again can be a nightmare. You will feel like you have to keep secrets to maintain a perfect and unrealistic image of yourself. No matter how you hide it, low self-esteem shows and it isn’t attractive. Take time to learn to love yourself. If you have self-confidence and know your inner-worth, you will be able to talk honestly, listen better, and smile radiantly. If you love yourself, you will still have your self-worth even if a new relationship doesn’t work out.
6. Do I know what I want in a relationship?
Perhaps you were in a relationship where your spouse was selfish, or even abusive. Have you figured out what kinds of behaviors you want to avoid, and which qualities you want? Do you know what you really need to have a relationship that will last forever? It is a good thing to be picky if you are looking for life-long happiness, rather than another divorce.
7. Have I forgiven my ex?
It can take a long time to forgive your ex, especially if you felt that he or she was the main cause of your pain. I can testify of the great peace that comes from forgiveness, and how necessary it is. To find the right person for you, forgiveness must be a part of your process.
8. Would I want to date or be married to someone like me?
Though it would be nice if divorces were always your spouse’s fault, most of the time both people share some of the responsibility. Are you in a place where you would be a loving, caring, and devoted spouse? Or would another relationship only end in more heartache? If you aren’t as good as the person you want for yourself, it is time to improve.
Being divorced does not make you less of a human, or less worthy of love. I found a wonderful man who loves me, and cherishes our growing family. There is hope for all who have had the misfortune of divorce. Don’t rush the process. Take the time to heal. You will have your chance at love once again. It is worth it to be patient to find someone who will be with you forever.
Nobody wants to be accused of being envious, especially when it is true.
I have often battled with this monster, and often I have given in. I have submerged my mind in bitterness, inadequacy, and irrationality.
It is next to impossible to be true friends with someone whose skills, talents, looks, and achievements you envy.
Throughout my young life, my problems have lain mostly with envy of talent, popularity, and praise. Growing up, the people I didn’t like were the ones most like me – the ones with the same talents and hobbies. I found myself being angry if someone got asked to sing more than me, got more praise than I thought I got for similar achievements, was cast the part I wanted in the school play, or got a better grade than me even though I thought I worked just as hard.
In my adult life, I sometimes still grapple with this. As I have prayed for this weakness to be made a strength, I have received witnesses of how to wash the green away:
If someone gets something before you, or does better than you at something, that person may have more experience, know the right people, have more time to work on it, or have more resources. Perhaps God’s will for them is not the same for you, or at least not right now.
Most of the time, your friends and peers are not trying to hurt you when they succeed. You should not expect them to halt their dreams or accomplishments for your sake.
Recognize that even if people seem to have it all (or at least what you want), there are many things they may not have, or are struggling with, that you don’t know about. People aren’t defined by one facet of their lives, nor do they get their entire fulfillment from one thing.
Remember that life has its ups and downs, and so have you. Maybe you are on the down side of the teeter totter right now, but you will be lifted up again in time. As you hope for your side to go up, never hope that someone else’s side goes down. Someone else’s fall will not lift you higher, nor will your envy.
Life isn’t meant to be a competition. You should only compare yourself to others to motivate you to be better than you are now, not to be better than someone else is right now. In fact, you may never have exactly what someone else has or do what someone else does, and that is OK. That doesn’t mean you are less loved, less blessed, or less valued. It doesn’t mean you have lost at life.
Sit down and count your blessings. When all you do is think of what you don’t have, you are missing out on the wonder that is your life. You may not have the fancy car, or the perfect relationship, but you have life. You have tremendously more than you even realize.
Pray to God every day and night that He will help you recognize your potential, your worth, and your calling in life. Also make an effort to pray for those you envy. Pray that you can see their worth, and how they can play a positive role in your life.
Instead of ignoring those you envy, sincerely compliment and praise them. Ask for their advice on how to be better, and humbly request an honest opinion of your skills. This vulnerable interaction can help build a rewarding friendship.
Ponder on what really matters in life. The everlasting goal is to return to live with Heavenly Father someday. God doesn’t care how beautiful you are, or how much money you have, or how many people know your name. That is what Satan wants you to think. No, the true test is how you overcome your envy and learn to love others unconditionally.
Find joy in yourself. Love yourself. You are blessed with many gifts and talents. Use them to help others. As you focus on serving with what you do have, you will be blessed with more.
I can say from personal experience that this shade of green is not a good color on anyone. I can also say that freeing yourself of this suffocating weight can make all the difference in how you feel, how you think, and how you act every day. You will feel wonderful, and free. Take off the green.
I am the oldest of four. My brother, Aaron, is two years and two months younger than me, and my other brother, Mark, is five years and two months younger. My only sister, Mariah, is eight years and 10 months younger than me.
My relationships with each of them have ebbed and flowed over time. I love them all so much, and wish to share my strongest memories and feelings about each of them.
Aaron
When we were little, Aaron and I were best buds. We colored out of the same coloring books at the same time. Sometimes we did coloring and drawing competitions. Most of the time we didn’t cheat by tracing, but sometimes we did.
Aaron went through a phase where he drew countless pictures of Jafar from Aladdin.
We sang Disney songs together in the fan, to make our voices vibrate. He played paper dolls and barbies with me, and I played trucks and Ninja Turtles with him. He would wake me up early on Saturdays to watch all of our super hero cartoons. We also watched tons of movies, mostly Disney (his favorite was The Little Mermaid and my favorite was Lady and the Tramp).
It wasn’t all roses, though. We had arguments over whether long noodles were called “spaghetti” or “basghetti.”
Sometimes I would blame him for things I did (my parents always assumed it was Aaron, anyway). Once, I was in my parents’ room and I saw a dark pink jar. I turned the lid to open it, and I accidentally spilled out this strong-smelling liquid (I found out later it was used to clean jewelry). I quickly got my mom’s towel from the bathroom, and sopped it up. My mom always had a long doily thing on her dresser then, so I know it got soaked. I think I left it there. My dad questioned us that day. When he asked me if I did it, I denied it, looking down at my food. When he asked Aaron, he said “I don’t know. It’s possible I did it.” I think he ended up with the blame, but didn’t get in trouble. Yep, I was a good sister.
As we got older, and I bloomed into adolescence, Aaron and I seemed to fight more than get along. At an age where I locked my door to get some peace, he took that opportunity to be as annoying as possible. He would stand outside my door and start making this weird clicking sound with his tongue, making it louder and louder (we called it the “tongue thing”). Then, he would stick his thumbnail into my lock, and slowly unlock the door, all the while making that maddening sound. I would scream, run to my door, and press all my weight into it so he couldn’t get in. I would prop my feet up on the wall in front of my door, even, just to keep him out. Sometimes, he would employ the help of our little brother, Mark. I couldn’t win then, not even with propped feet.
That is the face of an annoying brother for sure.
Aaron would also be annoying at the dinner table. I remember one night, while we were reading scriptures after dinner, he made me so mad. Every time he read a sentence, he would sniff, loudly. Like EVERY SINGLE TIME. I wanted to smack him. I tattled on him, but my parents were completely unaware of how he was trying to ruin my life.
I am still not done. We had three couches in our family room, and two of them were good for TV watching. Well, Aaron would always sit on the same couch as me. He would perch so that his butt would be up in the air, facing me. He did it on purpose to aggravate me. I hated it when he taunted me with that heart-shaped bottom. I would always lift my leg up high, and bring my heel down hard on his butt. He would just laugh, which drove me even more crazy.
As he became an adolescent, all this annoying stuff died down. I wish I could remember a lot about our relationship, but really, I just remember that I put him down sometimes because I was jealous. At one point, a girl at church really liked him, and I was upset because I didn’t have anyone who really liked me. I remember telling him that she flirted with other boys, and he shouldn’t go out with her. I wasn’t always sensitive to my brother’s feelings, and I regret it now.
Even though I wasn’t always a good sister to him, and he was kind of annoying, he was always a great friend to others, hilarious, loving, and a very talented pianist.
Aaron and I didn’t see each other much for the years after I graduated high school. It wasn’t until a few years ago, that we started to reconnect, and even then, he had times when he lived other places. He is about to go to Peabody Conservatory in a few short months.
I am really going to miss him. He is so intelligent, funny, loving, sensitive, talented, humble, among many other things. He is the best uncle in the world to my children. They love him so much. He is so much still like a kid himself, so he is so much fun. I can always have a great conversation with him too.
Thanks for being my brother. I love you.
Mark
You already know that Mark would help Aaron unlock my door.
When he became a toddler, after his cute baby stage, he became our annoying younger brother. Aaron and I would try to play, and Mark would want to play too. Didn’t he realize he was in the way?
Once, we were all lying on the floor playing, and I thought it would be fun to take my gum out of my mouth and slowly string it onto Mark’s hair. Oops, I couldn’t get it out. In a panic, I got some scissors, and cut the gum out. Later, my mom was worried, thinking Mark had a bald spot. I felt guilty and told her the truth. I learned that day that peanut butter will get out gum. I am sure I got in trouble, too.
Mark was a cute little boy. He was really chubby, with kind of buck teeth. He always wore huge t-shirts to bed without shorts. I remember he would sit in chairs and we could see his underwear. Aaron and I would giggle about it. Once, I drew him in my “journal” (Aaron and I had composition books we drew in).
When he got older, he and Aaron played all the time. They had separate rooms, but ended up sharing because Mark always wanted to be with Aaron.I think when Mark and Aaron became close, was around the time Aaron started to be annoying to me.
I don’t remember having a really close relationship with Mark. He was so quiet, and always to himself. He drew a lot. He was really talented. I, unfortunately, don’t remember having much in common with him.
However, when he got old enough to really play without being in the way, he would join Aaron and me in our puzzle building, gameboard playing, cartoon watching, make-believing, and trampoline jumping.
As a teenager, I was really busy with homework, drama club, and, as Mark recently reminded me, singing musicals in my room (mostly Phantom). I am sure that is why I didn’t have a strong relationship with Aaron or Mark during those years.
Then I went to college. When I came home, Mark was still in high school, and I had a little boy. I remember thinking Casey looked like Mark when he was little. It was nice to have Mark around. He was good at holding Casey for me.
He even drew a portrait of Casey as a baby for his a high school art class. That was awesome. I still have the portrait.
Mark and I have had a few good talks in our adult years, though he isn’t much of a talker. I remember one time he told me how much he admired me and how I lived my life. I will never forget that, and I appreciate it so.
Now Mark is married to a lovely Brit named Laura. I helped Laura find her wedding dress. I set up my house for their wedding, and even made their wedding cake with Swedish fish.
Mark and I have more in common, now – more to talk about. We also both have love for cooking, and have made yummy things together.
I am so grateful that he made the decision to marry Laura, and that he has stuck with her through hard times. I have very high hopes for the both of them in their continuing life together.
He continues to be a fabulous artist, a quality I admire greatly. I keep hoping he will get back into it, and bless others with his God-given gift.
Mark, I am so glad you are my brother. I love you.
Mariah
I was much older than Mariah, so I helped out with her a lot when she was little. She was the cutest Easter baby ever, and the chunkiest. No, really, the chunkiest. Think Michelin man.
When she was a newborn, my mom wouldn’t let me hold her unless I was sitting down. I remember not liking that. I wanted to do what my mom did. I loved having a baby sister.
When she was about two, Mariah was terrified of the vacuum cleaner. Every time my mom vacuumed, I held her in my arms until it was over. I cherished those moments as her protector.
I remember fondly how she used to say “hunder” instead of thunder, and “marshfellow” instead of marshmallow.
I remember watching Barney and Blue’s Clues with her all the time.
She was so adorable, and so sweet. She was still pretty young when I went off to college. She was not even 10.
After college, my divorce, and my move to North Carolina, Mariah was at the agreeable age of 13. She was huge into jewelry. She had some cute clothes, some I even borrowed. I let her borrow some of my clothes too, like a dress for her career day at school.
I found a lot of her passions annoying – well, maybe one passion – a boy who didn’t treat her well that she was madly in love with.
Mariah and I have butted heads many times since I have lived in NC. We are so different.Those of you who know us, know what I am talking about.
I used to make the mistake of acting more like her mother than her sister. She hated that, and resented me for it. I have worked really hard to change that – to be a loving, supportive sister who offers a listening ear and genuine advice, minus the judgment.
We have been much closer the past couple years she has been out of high school. Mariah is a wonderful person. I am so proud of the young woman she has become. She and I are still very different, but we share the ultimate goal of having a loyal marriage and raising happy children.
I admire her love for animals, her desire to make a difference in this world, her acceptance of everyone, and her giving nature. She is a hard worker. She also is a fantastic aunt. She spoils her nephews, and loves them to death.
I love you, Mariah. Sisters forever!
The Thacker Kids
Mandy, Aaron, Mark and Mariah. We are the Thacker kids. We grew up in VA, and now are all together (for a little longer) in NC.
We are a passionate, stubborn, hard-headed, slightly crazy, bunch. We love good food, and loud laughs. We are full of love for our family. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising us. You did a great job!
“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” (Matthew 18:3–4).
Jesus loves and cherishes little children. God has commanded us to bear children when we are able. The greatest joys we will ever experience will be within our own homes with our little ones.
As we conceive and bear children, we are creators of life. Our children come to us as soft, adorable, innocent babies. We love them with a true love we could never describe. As we feel this overwhelming love, we get a small taste of the love God must have for each of us.
Our little ones rely on us for most everything they need, as we should rely on our Savior for our spiritual needs. Our children love us and trust us more than anyone, which is the relationship we should have with our Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ.
One of the reasons we are commanded to bear and raise children is so we learn firsthand how to become like little children, who:
Find beauty and wonder in everything.
Children never get so busy or distracted that they forget to gaze at the sky, listen to the birds sing, watch the bugs crawl, pet the animals, or smell the flowers. They are truly grateful for all of God’s creations.
Value the simple things in life.
Little kids don’t need much to be happy. They need food to fill their tummies, clothing to keep them warm, a bed to rest in, simple toys to play with, and most importantly, family to love and comfort them. They don’t find joy in material things, but rather in their experiences with those they love most. They smile and laugh more than anyone else because they are satisfied.
Thirst for knowledge, and are teachable.
Children are curious, and they always have questions. They want to learn new information. My kids would read books all day if they could, for they are learning new words, learning about different animals, and learning how friends help each other.
They also want to learn how to do more things – things we do. When we are cooking dinner, they want to stir the noodles or crack the eggs. When we are picking the tomatoes from the garden, they want to help pick them too. They want us to teach them how to play sports, how to do magic tricks, how to play the piano.
Our kids trust us to teach them what they want and need to know. We have a great responsibility as parents to teach them the right things.
Are Active.
As parents, we wish our little ones would just sit still and not always want to do something. What a great trait, though, that they always want to be learning, doing, experimenting, accomplishing. If we teach them to sit around and play video games and watch TV all day, they may learn to do that, but it is not in their natural characters to vegetate. They thrive off of physical and mental stimulation.
Love themselves.
Little children are comfortable in their own skins. They aren’t embarrassed by their traits or personalities. They are themselves, and they love it.
They seem to most enjoy being themselves around their siblings. They can be anyone and do anything when they are with each other.
Make friends wherever they go.
Once children get to an age where they start playing with others, they make friends easily. They have conversations with, and play with any kid they meet. They don’t judge by looks, age, or circumstance, and they don’t think they are too good to play with certain kids. They just see a chance to have fun together.
Love unconditionally, give willingly, and forgive immediately.
Little children can love anyone. Theydo not hold grudges. They forgive as quickly as they get angry.
One of the sweetest things about my kids is that when they get in trouble, they want me to hug and kiss them and hold them, even though I was the one doing the disciplining. It makes it impossible for me to stay angry, and their
unconditional love permeates through me, softening my heart.
They also are so sweet to share their food with us, or to do nice things for other family members, like draw pictures or just give sweet kisses. Casey has gotten to an age now where he wants to buy gifts for special occasions, when he can. He bought Rigel a toy for his birthday, and this past Valentine’s Day, he bought Jad and I some candy.
Want to be around us all the time.
Our children cherish us. They want to be with us. They want us around to help them with their needs, to give them kisses and hugs, and just to be in the same room as them. There is nobody they would rather cuddle with, nobody they would rather comfort them when they are sad, nobody they would rather sing to them, talk to them, or tell them stories.
My children ask about their daddy every day when he is at work or school. They are sad when he won’t be with them that day, and they pray for him. They also don’t like it those times when I am not there to put them to bed. As parents, we are everything to our little ones.
Desire our approval.
They get upset when we are upset with them. They want us to be proud of them. That is why they proudly show us the picture they drew, or tell us the cool thing that happened at school that day, or show us their empty dinner plate when they eat all their food.
Can tell when we are sad, and want to make it better.
Children’s priorities and countenances change when they see that their strong mother or father is sad.
All my kids, even my oldest, are so discerning. When I cry, or appear low, they will ask me what is wrong with the cutest concern in their tones and eyes. They then proceed to hug me, kiss me, and tell me they love me in the ways they know how. That really does make it all better.
Teach us to be better.
We often hear the phrase “From the mouths of babes.” It is true. Little ones say the most profound truths – truths that are so simple, but so essential.
My son, Rigel, when I am upset, will always ask, “Mommy, can you please be happy?” or “Mommy, can you please be happy with me?” This always stops me in my tracks. If I am distracted with something unimportant, Kamren
will take my hand and lead me to play with him or read him a book. My oldest, Casey, though not so little anymore, will have the most wonderful gospel conversations with me. He teaches me lessons he has learned from reading his scriptures.
Are honest.
Little children don’t say what they think we want to hear. They call things exactly as they see them. They are still working on tact, but what a great example they bring. It is true sometimes children lie when they are afraid of getting in trouble, but they don’t do it for any other reason. They don’t want to hurt anyone, and they aren’t trying to betray trust. As a matter of fact, when they realize that is the reaction, they are usually heartbroken.
Follow a lot of rules, just because we tell them to.
We give our children many rules, ranging from cleanliness, to good manners, to safety, to kindness, to routine. We spend much of our day enforcing them. Our children sometimes choose not to obey the rules, but much of the time, they do what we ask, even if they don’t understand why, because they love us and trust us.
Have the light of Christ in their eyes.
Little children are the most precious angels in our lives. They are pure. They are the most like Christ of any other people on this earth. Their countenances shine with His light.
Jesus has commanded us to be like little children for all of these reasons and more. He wants us to apply their sweet traits into our interactions with others, as well as our devotion to and trust in God.
Sometimes we don’t see all the wonderful things about our little ones because, in our day-to-day lives, there may be an abundance of tantrums, messes and disobedience. I truly believe that these are mingled into our lives to help
us feel a little of what our Father in Heaven feels when we do not listen to, obey, or show love to Him. However, His love never falters and He never gives up on us.
We must always appreciate and love our children, as they are little, and as they grow. They bring us true happiness.
On January 25, 2011, I had my sweet baby boy, Rigel. Up until that day, I had been working full time at the AICPA, and had been, ironically, since January 25, 2007. When Jad and I knew we were going to have a baby, we started discussing what should be done.
Very pregnant me in January 2011
By January, after much contemplation and prayer, I was pretty sure I would not be returning to work after Rigel was born. I planned to start working from home a couple weeks before my due date to avoid going into labor at work, which was a good excuse to clean out my desk and cubicle very well just in case I wouldn’t be back. I also was going to have three months of maternity leave, and wanted to give paperwork to the right people, and effectively train the two individuals who would be doing my humongous workload when I was gone.
After Rigel was born, and I held him and cuddled him, it wasn’t long before I knew I really wanted to stay home with him and my older son, Casey. I wanted to be a full time mother, to see my children grow and be there for every special moment.
Rigel and I right after he was born.
Newborn Rigel and I at home.
I sent an email to my senior manager a month into my leave, expressing that I would not be able to return full time, but that I was willing to come to work part time if there was an opening. I don’t have a copy of the reply, but it wasn’t what I was hoping to read. I was denied the opportunity to come back, and I don’t recall any warmth or appreciation being expressed either.
This was my Facebook status after I got the reply. I was crushed, but I was so appreciative to my friends who commented on that status, helping me know that I would be missed.
is thrilled to be able to stay home with her babies, but didn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye to good old AICPA. I was hoping for a part-time position, but was told no.
Mandy Al-Bjaly Well, it feels good that people will miss me at least. Thanks for the love, everyone. I will miss all of you. Cary, I hope the hurt goes away somewhat quickly b/c this is hard!
Cary Thornbury Hill I cried like a baby with i left….the best advice I can give u is to stay in touch with ur friends always and know that u are more than a title ALWAYS!!!!
Susanna Robinson sorry to hear that they won’t work with you on a part time basis but all those hugs and smiles will fill your day! Hope all is well with all of you. Love you all!
Sara Conover Dusenberry Mandy, that sucks! It’s going to be so weird not hearing that booming laughter! I’m sure you are laughing plenty with your babies though! Keep smiling sunshine!
April 11, 2011 was the day I went to the AICPA as an employee for the last time. That was the longest elevator ride I had ever taken,this time with my husband and infant. It was the day I would have to clean out my laptop and the rest of my desk, say goodbye to all my friends and associates, and turn in my badge. The exit interview was very emotional, and I felt a part of me was missing when I walked out of those doors to my car, knowing I would never go to another meeting, QA another call, write another page of documentation, or laugh (very loudly) with the people I had grown to admire and love so much.
My team decorated my cubicle the day I found out I was having a boy – 8/30/10
I have been gone from the AICPA for four years, the same amount of time I worked there. When I see pictures of my old coworkers at work, I truly miss the conference rooms, cubicles, and the giving, fun-loving nature of my coworkers.
Christine, a friend and member of my team, threw me a work baby shower at her home – 12/4/10
I miss walking with members of my team during their 15-minute breaks. I miss sitting in the diner eating lunch, though sometimes I would only be there for a few minutes until I had another meeting. I miss team meetings, the birthday parties we celebrated, the one on ones. I even miss the meetings with management, from my department and others (except for the QA meetings. I never liked those).
I learned so many things from my time at the AICPA – nine months as a specialist doing inbound calls, and over three years as a supervisor of different teams. I went from Phone Response supervisor, to Phone and Email Response supervisor, to Outbound Service and Retention supervisor, consisting of three groups doing three very different functions. It was challenging. At one point I had 13 specialists reporting to me. In my last supervisor role, I also worked very closely with the IT department and the Member Value department. I was constantly writing and editing documentation too.
During those four years at the AICPA, I learned so many valuable lessons, many of which I continue to incorporate on a personal level:
Always be kind to members/customers, even if they are unkind to you. I remember once a member was so mean to me that I started crying. My supervisor got on the phone and took over for me, defending me, saying I was doing all I could, and the member should not take his frustrations out on someone who was only trying to help him.
In this job position, I was always taught to stay kind and respectful regardless of how I was being treated on the phone. Phone and email specialists are the face of the AICPA, and our professionalism weighs heavily on the perception people have of our organization.
Ironically, the members and customers who got the angriest usually got what they wanted – something they didn’t deserve. At what cost, though? Crushing a specialist’s self-esteem, bullying your way to what you want, and being talked about in the office as a difficult member?
Kindness and courtesy go a long way on both ends.
If you hold yourself to a high standard of excellence, you will be asked to do more. As you take on more responsibilities, and do them well, this will lead to greater opportunities. I was thrilled to be promoted to supervisor after only nine months of being a specialist. It was such an honor, and I think one of the reasons I got promoted was because I was constantly asking for special projects to do. I expressed interest in learning more and doing more, all the while doing my best in my required functions.
To be most efficient in a work environment, you must also have fun. This was something I feel I did well. I always had names for my teams. My first team was the Phunny Pharm. We had a Pheel Good Jar where we wrote kind notes to each other before every team meeting and passed them out. It really did lift spirits. We also had snacks at every team meeting, and a game, along with business. I often brought treats to work and passed them out to anyone who wanted them. We celebrated every specialist’s birthday on my team, and I did superlatives and other recognitions. We also talked socially as a team, and just had a good time. I held everyone to a high standard, but tried to make work fun too.
Take a break. If you work too hard, you will be too stressed to be productive. There would literally be days when I was a supervisor when my entire Outlook calendar was filled with meetings and other responsibilities from 8-5. I wouldn’t even had time for lunch, so I would just wolf something down at my desk. Those were terrible days, and I would always go home in a bad mood. Taking a walk, eating a lunch without distraction, and having some breather room, makes so much of a difference in the quality of your day, and your capacity to give.
Laugh a lot. It’s contagious.
My team, and others, used to always tease me for my very loud, bell-like laugh, a laugh that They always knew when I was coming.
Smile and speak kindly to everyone. Sometimes management can be intimidating, and seen as all work and numbers. If management is kind to everyone, it levels the playing field, and also builds relationships among teams, who often tend to be competitive.
In contrast, as you are always friendly with your superiors, they know you trust them and would go to them for guidance and advice. That helps them feel that you like and respect them, but also that you want to know more and be more than you currently do and are.
Even if you don’t like someone, do your best to be friendly and show appreciation. This will greatly improve collaboration and cooperation. There were a couple people here and there over the years I didn’t like very much at work. There was one in particular who annoyed me a lot. One day, I decided to implement a new strategy, which was showing interest in her interests, complimenting her, being kind and talking to her socially, and not just in meetings. That really improved how we worked together in the future, and my respect for her grew.
When someone comes to talk to you, stop what you are doing, and give him/her your full attention. You should not multitask when someone is speaking to you about an urgent/important matter. One of my managers taught me this, and though I had so much work to do, that it was really hard to take my fingers off the keyboard, I tried to implement that advice. I can’t say I was always successful, but I do know that when I did, I got the full message the first time, and did not have to clarify a question or concern.
Respond to requests as quickly as you can. This builds trust, and helps those you serve know you are their advocate. Because I had had experience with a supervisor who was not timely in answering emails, and a manager who answered emails but didn’t always answer the question, I realized the value of reading and responding to my specialists’ emails as quickly as possible. I also encouraged them to just come to my desk and talk to me personally. I tried to be as helpful and positive as possible.
If you care about those you supervise and make their success a priority, they will be more motivated, work harder, and enjoy work more.
I really feel strongly about this. As a supervisor or manager, you have a responsibility to make sure your team performs at a high level of efficiency and quality. Sometimes it can be easy to concentrate only on numbers, and put individuals down when they don’t perform exactly right. When you change your approach, show them individually you care about their success, ask how you can help them every day, and work with them on a regular basis, while listening to their ideas and concerns, it makes so much of a difference.
Provide feedback in a constructive manner. Always start with positive feedback and then move on to the opportunities. Let the person know you want to help him/her succeed. As a supervisor, I did one on ones with each of my specialists either bi-weekly or monthly, depending on their positions. Sometimes, I had to give feedback on performance that was less than satisfactory. That is hard and intimidating. I learned, though, that if I concentrated on what they did well first, it softened my tone enough that I could give the constructive criticism in a way that wasn’t offensive. I always expressed a desire to help my employees succeed, and offered , as well as asked for, suggestions to do so.
When someone is performing at a very low level, you work as much as you can to help him/her start meeting expectations, rather than just turning your back.
Sometimes you will have an employee who is just awful, either with a bad attitude or really poor skills. You can’t just give up and throw in the towel. You have to be patient and work with that person in every way you can, with specific, documented steps. Sometimes people will be let go, and if that happens, you should be perfectly satisfied that you did all you could, and that you stayed their advocate until the end.
If you are annoyed or offended, do not send that nasty email. Save it as a draft, and go back to it later, after you have calmed down and gained some perspective. I never got in trouble formally at work, but once, when I was still a specialist, I had taken on an additional responsibility of writing a training quiz. I got some feedback on it from a manager, that offended me, and I felt wasn’t correct. I sent a passionate email expressing my feelings. My supervisor had to speak to me about it, and I promptly apologized. From then on, I always took a breather before responding to an email that I didn’t like, or I just spoke to the person in person.
Another point about nasty emails: I had a manager that would periodically sent me a rude email asking why something was done or wasn’t done, or why it was done in the wrong way. It would inevitably upset me, but mostly annoy me, as he was almost always incorrect in his accusations. In my management role, I tried not to do that, but rather talk to a person one on one if I had a concern.
Be passionate, but not too passionate; don’t sweat the small stuff; and look at the bigger picture. That was one of my biggest faults at the AICPA as a supervisor. When I saw injustices, especially in QA, I was very passionate about defending my cause, or the cause of one of my employees. There would inevitably be tension in the room, and often, I still didn’t get my way. You need to be passionate enough to care that things are done fairly, but also see that there are other perspectives out there other than your own. Sometimes I would sweat the small stuff by being mad that others were sweating the small stuff. That really isn’t productive.
Don’t be afraid to express concerns, but always be respectful and provide proof to validate them.
There were so many occasions, especially in my last supervisor role, when demands were made that just could not realistically be met. I had to speak with my senior manager often in his office about these things. I usually had reports to prove my concerns, many of which were made by one of my awesome employees. I strived to be respectful of what upper management said, but I still expressed my concerns rather than keeping them inside. I had my team to advocate for, and if I said nothing, and simply bowed down to every command, my specialists would not have respected me, and would not have wanted to come to work, knowing they couldn’t accomplish what was required of them.
It isn’t us against them. We are all working together for a common goal.
I was in the Service Center during my whole four years. There would often be annoyances from my department toward the IT department, and mostly the Member Value department. I had to learn to give the benefit of the doubt, realize every team has pressures of their own, and train myself to really believe we were all working toward a common goal. I made it a priority to just communicate better, and stay kind.
The most profound truth I learned came after I left the AICPA, and that is that I was replaceable. It really hurt to know I put my heart and soul, and blood, sweat and tears into my job at the AICPA for years, and when I left, everyone moved on. Someone else took my position, and business continued as usual. I don’t know what I was expecting – management to beg me to stay perhaps.
No matter how well you do at your job, no matter how many awards or bonuses you get, no matter how many policies and procedures you implement, no matter how many documents you write, no matter how many meetings you go to, no matter how many problems you identify and help fix, no matter how many people you train, no matter how much you are trusted to get the job done, you are replaceable in the workforce.
It was like a punch in the gut to realize that. Now, though, I have found that truth to be a remarkable blessing. It has really reaffirmed and validated my husband’s and my decision for me to stay home and raise my children.
To them, I am irreplaceable. Only I know what they desire, what they need, how to calm them down, what to sing to them, which books to read to them, what their favorite toys and blankets are. Nobody can kiss their boo boos like I can, or teach them that Jesus loves them like I can, or love them and cherish them like I can. They need me, they love me, and they miss me when I am not there. I am irreplaceable as their mother as long as I teach them in light and truth, show them love, and care for them body and soul.
I will always cherish my time at the AICPA, especially the friendships I formed, and the lessons I learned. I will never forget any of you, and I love keeping up with you as best I can. Thank you for your examples that help me be a better person and mother.
Today is a very special day. It is the one year anniversary of my first blog post. As I looked over my 47 posts from this past year, some were short, some were long, some were very long, and some were even longer than that.
Some tell many personal stories from my life. Some contain my fervent testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Some are funny, some are serious, but all have me in them.
Not every post had a lot of readers, but all of them came from my heart, and all are special to me.
I had liked the idea of starting a blog for a long time, but never had the real gumption to take that step. Then there was one day when I had all these ideas and messages flow into me that I knew I had to share. They were about the trials of parenthood, but how they really made you a better person.
I knew that I needed to start my blog then. I thought for a long time about a name. I prayed for guidance. The words to the LDS hymn “Love at Home” came to my mind. One phrase in the song is “making life a bliss complete when there’s love at home.”
That was it. That was my title, and that was my purpose. To describe my blog, I chose this phrase: My heartfelt thoughts and feelings about home, family, love, faith, and personal growth.
I have remained true to this description.
I realize that because my purpose is to help myself and others see that God is there, He loves us, and that He has given us this wonderful life on earth to learn, grow and become more like Him, I may not get the most readers. Though I know that we all can benefit from knowing that life really can be a bliss complete when we are kind, compassionate, forgiving and humble, not everyone wants to read about that.
I won’t lie to you, it hurts when I put my heart and soul into a post, and I get maybe a handful of likes, one share, and a couple comments. I want to uplift and help people, and hearing from my readers helps me know I am accomplishing that goal.
When my readers share my posts, I can reach more people. This may sound prideful, and maybe it is if I focus on what people think of me, or how I compare to others. However, I truly feel from the bottom of my heart that Heavenly Father wants me to be His witness and a witness of His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, through my writings. The Holy Ghost has put words into my mind and through my fingertips so many times.
I believe I was given my writing talent to share the gospel of Christ, to help others learn from my mistakes, and even to help preserve my family history.
No matter how discouraged I may get about not having much feedback on my posts, I have never felt that I should stop writing. I will write as long as I feel called to do so. Thank you to those of you who do express your appreciation for my words. It means the world to me. There is nothing kinder you could do for me than that.
In honor of my first year of blogging, I have come up with some superlatives. I hope you enjoy them, and take some time to read some of these posts if you haven’t already.
There was a message at church that Sunday that helped me lift a heavy burden from my life. That was when I decided to start my Sunday series: Sabbath Day Light. These posts meant so much to me spiritually, but as a new blogger, I decided to stop doing them because of the lack of interest. My testimony remains, however, that attending church truly does nourish your soul and enlighten your mind.
This post has had the highest number of reads, and probably the most comments. I agonized over the title, and based on the number of reads, I think it was a winner. If you haven’t read it, this is a story about my husband and a parasite that had grown for 10 years in his body, threatening his life and claiming the vast majority of his liver.
Why would I add this one, you ask? Well, because I still think it was a very uplifting post, and is very relevant to the first weekend in April, just a little over a week away. Check it out!
I have many long posts, but there are only a few in the very long category. This one is my longest, with 15 pages, 4575 words, 19,854 characters without spaces, and 24, 312 characters with spaces.
That post took me countless afternoons to write. I am really proud of it, though, and I really think that couples who study and contemplate these gospel-centered suggestions on how to cleave to each other, will find a benefit to their marriages. I know that because as I researched and wrote it, I found ways to strengthen my marriage.
I spent so many hours researching the beliefs, practices and doctrines of the different Christian churches. It was really interesting, and helped me illustrate why I believe there must be absolute Truth.
I had a lot of fun writing this one. Last Father’s Day was so different than what we are normally used to, but we made it special and fun anyway. We will never forget it.
I actually wrote the birth story of my beloved Kamren before I started blogging, so on his first birthday, I posted that story on my blog. The story surrounding my youngest son’s birth is truly a miracle, and may make you cry – in a good way.
I put this one as the most influential because I originally published this on a fellow neighbor’s blog. It sparked many questions about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that I was able to answer. I have also found many opportunities to share this blog post with others of and not of my faith, and have received feedback that it helped their perspectives, or that they would like to share it with more people who they think could learn from it.
This post was inspired from a conversation I had with my son about bullying. I know that the Spirit guided me to say what I said to him, and I wanted to share it so other parents could help their children too.
I put a lot of personal things in this quote about modesty (in dress, speech and behavior), that apparently made at least one friend of mine and my husband uncomfortable. I put those things in to help other women see that they, and I, are better than I used to portray myself.
I really did post 100 things I have learned from this wonderful book, which is another testament of Jesus Christ. Looking at the 100 messages, it is clear that it is a work of God, and a complement to the Bible.
I wrote this post right after election day last year, when I saw an alarming lack of civility. I tried to bring the point home that our country needs more love, tolerance, and support for its leaders and its citizens.
There is a very sad story in this blog post, one that illustrates the poison that pornography is to individuals, spouses, and families. But there is hope, should one take hold of it!
It is hard to pick a favorite out of 47 posts, but I knew without looking it would be one of my four posts from this series. The series in total I felt very strongly I needed to write. This one means the most to me because my most heartfelt testimony flows through it. The Spirit touched my heart so much as I wrote, that tears streamed down my face. There is nothing more valuable to me than my testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel.
I knew I wanted to write one more post before my 1-year anniversary of this blog. I had started one, knowing it had great stuff in it, but my fingers couldn’t bring it together like I wanted. I prayed for guidance for what to write, and this new post flowed through me without any hesitation. It hasn’t had many reads, but please read it. I know it is supposed to help someone.
There are so many more posts that I love because they are about my family or spiritual lessons I have learned in my life.
I am grateful for my Heavenly Father for giving me a gift with writing. I hope I can always be worthy of that gift.
