I recently mused: A house is a roof over your head, but a home is so much more. To me, home is a very special word. It indicates a place of belonging, a place of love, a place of safety, a place of sacrifice, and a place of peace.
A house is something you build with your hands. It is tangible. A home is also built, but it takes much more intricate, ongoing effort of not only hands, but hearts as well.
Each person who puts his heart and soul into the building of a home might be called a homemaker.
We’ve all heard that word before. Most of us think of this term the way Merriam-Webster does: a wife who does work (such as sewing, cleaning, or cooking) at home and usually does not have another job outside the home.
Sewing, cleaning, and cooking are valuable skills, but alone, they cannot create this sacred place called home.
No, it takes more than that, and it takes every member of the family. I like to think of my family as a team. For our team to be the best it can be, each member must be wholeheartedly devoted to winning the game of life and achieving the joyful victory of being an eternal family.
Not every person in the home team will have the same obligations and roles, but each position, from father to toddler, is essential to win the game.
In our family night last night, my husband and I asked our children what they can do to make our home a happier place.
My ten-year-old, Casey, gave some good answers. He said that he can do nice things for his brothers instead of annoying them. He can help make mom and dad’s lives easier so we have more time to spend together. He can cooperate instead of argue, and let his brothers have their way sometimes.
I loved his answers. He isn’t perfect at any of those things, but I can tell that he truly wants to make this positive contribution to the family he loves. Usually he is a wonderful member of the team, and is a huge helper.
We asked our four-year-old, Rigel, the same question. My husband asked him how he could make Daddy happy, and he said, “Destroy you.” That is a game that they play together. We laughed about it, but to him, playing with his daddy is a way to make our home a happier place.
Several times Rigel has picked flowers for me from outside. Jad asked him why he does that, and he said because he loves Mommy.
He also holds his little brother’s hand sometimes. He often shares his toys, and he does help clean up. He likes to watch us cook, and he likes to play with us. He wants everyone to be happy, and gives good hugs and kisses. He is usually polite, and is good at saying “thank you.”
Kamren, our two-year-old, did not answer the question, of course. He just smiled his adorable, yet mischievous smile. He makes our home a happier place by giving kisses and hugs, cuddling, desiring to learn and be taught, and by making us laugh.
We asked Casey how we can make our home better, and he said to spend more time together. That is really so important. A family whose members are always separate don’t have a chance to talk together, laugh together, listen to each other, play together, cuddle together, or learn from each other. Spending time together shows we love each other and put each other first.
Jad and I want our home to be a holy place, so do our best to have weekly family home evenings, pray as a family and individually, and study our scriptures daily.
Everyone except Kamren takes turns praying for meals or family prayer, but even he knows to fold his arms and bow his head. Casey takes his turn reading scriptures each night. We try to get Rigel to repeat verses too. Even at young ages, our kids know that praying and scripture study are a part of our day to day lives. They remind us to do it too.
Jad is a holder of the Melchizedek priesthood, and has the authority to give priesthood blessings. Our children have so much faith. They know that when they are sick or sad, they can ask for a blessing. Rigel is especially good at asking for blessings for himself or someone else who is sick. Casey and Rigel both received father’s blessings before they started school this year. These blessings offer them comfort and strength.
Here are some other things that we encourage every member of our home team to do:
Help clean and tidy the house.
Pitch in during meal times, either by cooking, setting the table, or cleaning up.
Show affection and respect to each member of the family.
Be discerning of each other’s moods, needs, and desires. Be a good listener.
Only bring in uplifting pictures, books, movies, and music into the house.
Have a positive attitude, and try not to complain.
Keep the commandments of God.
There are countless ways each family member can help make the home a sacred place. If only the mother worked hard to be a homemaker, and nobody else participated, there would be less cheer and a lack of the Spirit.
As Bonnie Oscarson said, “What a difference it would make in the world if all people would see themselves as makers of righteous homes.”
The next time you hear the term homemaker, smile with pride knowing that you are one.
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.
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.
This is the version I submitted to Family Share before it was re-edited and published on their site. See which one you like better:
Sometimes in a dating or marriage relationship, the commitment and happiness decline, and the relationship goes terribly south. When this happens to you, you wonder where the problems lie, and who is to blame. Truth be told, the fault is usually shared, though not necessarily equally.
Reflect on these characteristics of a devoted partner to see how you are influencing your relationship for better or for worse:
1. You are loyal.
You do not participate in anything that would arouse lust. You do not flirt with anyone else. You are upfront and honest with your partner about what you do every day. When things are hard, you stick by the one you love, rather than go to someone, or something, else for comfort.
Someone I loved wasn’t loyal to me, and it was really hard for me to trust him again, or even get over my feelings of disgust and betrayal. Trust can be rebuilt with change, but he sadly didn’t value our relationship enough to change.
2. You show affection often, in word and in deed.
You say “I love you,” kiss, hug, hold hands, and do sweet, tender gestures. You are thoughtful, and make holidays and occasions special. You spend quality time with your significant other, and do things that will strengthen your relationship. You are authentic, and do a lot of laughing and having fun. You reminisce about why you fell in love, and tell your partner often what you love about him/her. You share your dreams for your future together.
I know that without this tender affection, the romantic spark can totally go out.
3. You communicate with love, patience, and respect.
You encourage and uplift, rather than nag or criticize. You compliment and show praise every day. You only speak kindly of your partner to your friends or family. You do your best to express your thoughts, feelings and concerns without yelling, fighting or calling names. Should you falter, you sincerely apologize. You say what is bothering you, rather than turning inward and pushing the other away. You never let your pride be more important than your love.
Humility is something my husband and I are working on to improve our communication. It makes all the difference.
4. You value your significant other’s thoughts, feelings, and interests.
When you make decisions, you think of how they would affect the other. You respect your partner’s opinions, even more so than those of your parents and friends. You listen, and you validate. You would never ask your partner to do anything that makes him/her uncomfortable. You comfort when the other is sad; you support when the other struggles; you celebrate when the other succeeds. You appreciate the talents, skills and hobbies of the other, and try to learn from them. You are unselfish, and put your partner’s needs before your own.
In my marriage, I get most upset when I feel that my husband isn’t listening or validating my feelings. I feel so loved, though, when he just sits with me, listens to me, hugs me, and tells me he loves me.
5. You can be happy without your significant other.
You do not base your self-worth solely on the fact that you are in a relationship. You can feel confident, fulfilled and happy when you are apart. You do not get insecure, or worried when you cannot talk to or see your significant other at all times. You love yourself, and know that no matter what happens, you are special, you are loved, and you have so much to offer.
I have seen people be so clingy in their relationship, that they push the other person away. Then, if it doesn’t work out, they don’t know how to function. Please remember that your partner needs your trust, and also personal time.
6. You are doing your best to be a good person.
You choose your friends carefully. You want to associate with honest, unselfish, giving and loyal people who don’t break the law or play with hearts. You are not entertaining harmful addictions. When you make commitments, you keep them. You work hard, and you humbly recognize your strengths and weaknesses, and are constantly working to refine yourself.
Though I don’t have personal experience with all of these things, I have seen someone I love struggle as she dated a young man who did break the law, pretend to care more than he did, and break commitments. She would try so hard to be loyal and stand by her boyfriend, while he would flirt with other women, do drugs, and even steal.
I do have first-hand experience with what addictions can do to a relationship. One who has an addiction does not have freedom over his thoughts, emotions or actions. He is irrational, selfish, unproductive, dishonest, unkind, and sometimes violent.
7. You love God and put Him first.
You know who your Creator is, and you want to please Him. You strive to show you love Him and others by keeping His commandments. You take time to pray, read your scriptures, and ponder on all the blessings God has given you. You are a light to others as you serve them in love.
This quality has been the most valuable to me in my relationship with my spouse. When we both are striving to put God first, we really are more patient, loving, and service-oriented.
In contrast, my first marriage ended mostly because of sin and selfishness. I can promise you that individuals who strive for spiritual cleanliness, are much better suited for a healthy relationship.
Because nobody is perfect, you won’t do all these things perfectly all the time. However, if your relationship with your spouse or significant other is taking a dark turn for the worse, reflect carefully on the part you are playing. Do the very best you can, and if nothing changes, it may be time to consider a change. God bless you in your relationship and in your life.
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.
He runs to his fallen lunch plate, then tearfully reaches
for me to hold him.
I hug him, kiss his little face, and then gently place him on
my lap and begin to rock.
The big boy also wants to cuddle. I make room on my lap for
his larger, yet still soft body.
We rock peacefully back and forth, one hugging me and the
other licking peanut butter off his fingers.
The little dog approaches, sad, wanting to join us on the
comfy rocker.
I think there is not enough room, but hearing her little
desperate cry, I tap my knee twice and summon her to join us.
She happily leaps onto my lap. Suddenly, there isn’t enough
room.
Her body is lying on my shoulder, neck and head. Her fur is
going in my ear.
That is when we start to giggle.
The little black dog finally gets comfortable curled up with
the big boy, and then her playful kisses start.
She kisses me on my ears and mouth as I try to turn away,
only stopping to lick the generous baby’s pointer finger that is tempting her with its peanut buttery goodness.
We continue to rock, a little less quietly than before, and
I realize I have three people in my lap that love me. I smile.
I inhale the fragrance of the big boy’s freshly shampooed
hair while the baby pushes his wet, messy mouth onto my left sleeve, laughing mischievously.
The baby is about done with this moment. He slides off my
lap, then adorably holds up his sock, shocked that it is off his sweet little
foot.
He then runs off to see what he can do while mommy is otherwise occupied.
The big boy still wants to rock with me. I hold his head
tenderly under my chin and pat his little bum rhythmically.
I realize that this is bliss, and it can be felt and enjoyed
even within a mess.
The moment ends just a touch after, but it is
enough to remind me I have all I will ever need.
I have been thinking about the idea of friendship the past few days. I went through a time not so long ago where I felt really down. I felt like I didn’t have a really close friend- best friend – who I could talk to or hang out with any time.
I felt sorry for myself that I moved into a neighborhood with several families that I knew, expecting to become best buddies with all the women, and not seeing it happen instantaneously like I hoped it would.
I just felt kind of alone, and unwanted, like I wasn’t good enough for anyone to want me as a good friend.
I have always been kind of shy of meeting new people, and I feel very uncomfortable in large group settings where I have to be social. That is one of the reasons I longed for a best friend so that if I were in a social setting, I could just spend time with her and not worry about anyone else. No awkward situations required.
I actually did have someone I considered a best friend several years ago, before I remarried. She and I would hang out at all the church Young Single Adult activities, go to the dances together, go shopping together, go out to eat together, talk on the phone late at night, talk about boys and look at engagement rings for fun – you know, normal best friend stuff.
I was heartbroken when she moved away and decided not to remain my friend. I have never known why, and have reached out several times to try to reconcile. Nothing worked, but ever since that awesome friendship, I had hoped to find another such best friend.
That is understandable, right? One day, when I was really down about it, I posted this on Facebook:
October 19, 2012
Does anyone else wish they had a best friend? I feel like I haven’t had one of those in years. It’s not for lack of trying because I try really hard to genuinely be kind to everyone and help everyone, not to mention get to know people whenever I can by inviting them over. I never seem to get past the friendly acquaintance or friends when we have time stage. What I need more than anything is someone I can call any time I want to talk (and it can be about anything), or want to hang out, and it will be welcomed with enthusiasm and joy. I want someone to see me that way too. We would actually do the things we say we want to do together (make an actual plan) – we wouldn’t dream of letting it slide. Forgive the self-pity. I’m just really feeling it today. I hope I am the only one that feels this way, because it really stinks. If you are in the same boat at me, just know I am happy to be your friend.
When I posted this, nearly 20 women responded to me saying they knew how I felt, because they were there, or had been there, too. It touched me, and saddened me at the same time, that so many women were feeling like me.
After I saw that I wasn’t the only one, that gave me strength, and I started to pray for help to make friends, and to be a better friend myself.
I don’t know how those lovely women are feeling now, but I want to make an update to my feelings from almost 2 1/2 years ago.
My problems aren’t over. I am still so uncomfortable in large social settings. I still don’t have someone I can call my best friend. However, I have been blessed as the Lord has answered my prayers and brought understanding to my tender heart. Here are some of the things that I have learned:
1. Though having a best friend is a really beautiful thing, I personally cannot grow as well as a person if I cling on to one best friend. Because I am sometimes socially awkward, I need to be stretched and pulled out of my comfort zone.
2. As adults, especially with spouses and kids, we are really busy. We are pulled in so many directions, and our priorities are different than they were when we were younger. However, it is possible to care deeply about someone even if we don’t have time to talk on the phone or spend time together on a regular basis.
3. It is a good thing to befriend as many people as you can, and touch as many lives as possible. I have felt so blessed to be given the desire to have different people in my home for dinner, play dates, and girls nights. I have come to know so many wonderful women this way. I can call all of them my friends, and I hope they know that I am there for them when they need me.
4. You can have special friends of all ages, races, religions, political affiliations, cultures, and personalities. As long as we respect one another, our differences make us uniquely able to build each other up.
5. I have a husband, and he can fulfill most of the criteria for a best friend. In the areas he can’t, I have my other friends.
6. Your parents, siblings, in-laws, and children can be some of your closest friends because they know you the best and need you the most.Make them a top priority.
7. I have, just like each of you have, special gifts that I can share with others to help their days be a little brighter. I don’t have to be called someone’s best friend to be admired, appreciated, and loved. If I do my part to bring joy to others, they will call me friend.
8. People are put into your life for a reason. Instead of feeling sorry for myself that I don’t have a best friend, I should feel honored that God loves me enough to put special people in my path, and trusts me enough to put me in theirs. I may not be close friends with everyone I meet, but we have something we can give to each other.
9. It is much more fun to have many women to call my friend. There doesn’t have to be special rules around what makes a friend. If you welcome me into your home, you are my friend. If you exercise, bake, go to movies, chill with me, you are my friend. If you love my kids, you are my friend. If you listen to me and give me advice, you are my friend. If you give me a smile and a hug, you are my friend. If you laugh with me and cry with me, you are my friend. If you help motivate me to be a better person, you are my friend. If you appreciate my gifts and talents, and help me feel good about myself, you are my friend. If you share your love of God with me, you are my friend. If you do any of these things, you are my friend.
10. Whenever I feel sad or alone, I always have Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father as my true friends who love me, are there for me, and want what is best for me.
To all of you reading this, you are my friend. Thank you for your support.
Bully: a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.
Last week my 9-year-old approached me and asked me if a certain word was a bad word. He was asking because a kid on the bus last year used to call him that over and over. He hadn’t really known if it was bad, and that was why he hadn’t told me about it before.
I told him it indeed was a bad word, and that it was wrong for the kid to say that to him. I told my son he should never use that word, and that if a kid says something like that again, that he should tell his bus driver immediately, and talk to me or his dad about it after school.
Then, Sunday, he came up to me again and wanted to talk about it some more. I asked him what specifically he wanted to talk about, and he wasn’t sure. So, I took a deep breath, said a silent prayer for guidance, and found myself saying:
You should have compassion on kids who use bad language, are mean, or make fun of you.
Why do kids do these things? There are many reasons: they have friends or family who set bad examples; they don’t feel loved or encouraged at home; they are abused by parents or other family members; they have been bullied before; their media choices champion bullying; they don’t have many friends; they don’t know that you or they are children of God; they don’t realize that true joy comes from helping and loving others. It could be any of these reasons, or others.
Look at the list. Though their behavior should not be excused, they are not just bullies. They have pain and struggles too.
That being said…
You are not what these kids say you are.You can get to a point where you won’t feel bad when kids are mean to you.
It is so important not to believe what bullies say. They don’t know you. They either pinpoint one quality they don’t like about you and define you by it, or they make something up just for laughs and to see you flinch. Do not let someone who doesn’t care about you define who you are.
Just say to yourself, I know that this isn’t who I am. I am a child of God. I have a family who loves me. I have good friends. I do my best in school. I am not going to let this bother me. I am not going to let them pull me down and try to change me. I know my self-worth.
Don’t let someone else try to change you.
Sometimes kids take it to heart when people say mean things. If they are bullied about their clothes, they want to wear cooler, nicer clothes. If they are bullied about being nice to an unpopular kid, they stop being nice to that kid. If they are bullied about being helpful in class, they stop helping their teacher. Some kids even think that if they become bullies, they can then escape bullying.
Don’t bend to them. They will not suddenly be your friend if you change. They will just laugh and realize they have exercised power over you.
Always remember you are special. Remember what matters. Remember who you are.
Kids will always find a way to make fun, whether it is clothes, body type, intellect, values. Sometimes kids make fun of qualities that are good.
Oftentimes, kids bully because they are jealous. That is why they sometimes make fun of good things, like being a nice person or doing well in school. Never assume that you are doing something wrong if you are bullied.
Don’t lie to avoid being made fun of. As a teen I remember sometimes lying about silly things, like saying I had two pairs of the same jeans when in reality I wore the same pair two days in a row. I lied many times in high school when I was asked out on dates and I wasn’t 16 yet. Every time I lied it was because I was afraid of the mockery, the gossip and the finger-pointing at my expense.
You should never lie. What I did was wrong. I may have avoided one wrong, but I invited another. Have integrity. Tell the truth and don’t be ashamed of it.
Never pick a fight.
If bullying goes beyond harsh words, and a kid wants to fight you, you should not engage in a fight. If a kid hits you, defend yourself if you must. Do not get angry and do not continue the fight. Make sure to tell a teacher and always tell the truth.
Not all mean words are curse words. Never call kids bad names.
Never use curse words, whether in conversation or to bully. There are other words that are not necessarily curse words, but are meant to put others down. For example, when I was in school, I was often called a “goody goody” because I got good grades and helped my teacher willingly. Basically, don’t use any words that have a damaging intent.
When someone else is being bullied, you should take a stand.
Sometimes when you see a kid being bullied, you might be afraid to do or say anything for fear of retaliation. You never have to be afraid to do the right thing, though, and showing support for a victim is always a good thing. Ask the mean kids to stop. If they don’t, talk to the kid and make sure he/she is okay. Be that kid’s friend, even if it means you are also made fun of. Think of what good you can do.
If you set an example by not being mean, and not participating in bullying, others may follow.
Not all kids want to bully, or be quiet when they see it. They are just afraid. If they see you standing up for others, you will be surprised how many will follow you instead of the bully. You be a force for good.
You can talk to me and your dad any time, about anything.
There is nothing that you can’t talk to us about. We will be understanding. We will listen. We will give you a hug. We will talk you through it. We will pray with you and for you.
We love you. You are a good boy. Thank you for coming to me and talking about this today.
