Speaking of which...

So you know how my last blog post I mentioned not being able to choose the time and place of your meltdown? 

Yeah. That happened today. 

During the closing song of sacrament meeting, I totally broke down crying, almost sobbing. And right afterwards I was supposed to go teach singing to the primary kids. And likely about half the ladies at church thought I was having a nervous breakdown. It seems kind of funny now, but in the moment it was kind of dramatic. 

I'm exceedingly grateful for all my friends who reached out in word and deed. A hug, tissues, an understanding smile, a word of encouragement. I'm surrounded by good friends and family.

P.S. Oh yeah, and I found out on Friday that I have gestational diabetes. Failed my 1-hr glucose test with flying colors. Nice.

What depression looks like right now.

I can feel it coming. It's this gradual build-up of negative emotions: frustration, tiredness, and sadness, mostly. They pile up within me and I start to notice I have less ability to roll with the punches of life. I'm impatient with my children, going from simple direction to loud demands in almost an instant when their compliance seems unlikely. I'm harder on myself. I have less willingness to do any of the numerous household tasks that pile up, and then am berating myself for not doing better. And other times, an apathy towards all commitments seeps in. Life seems so daunting. I just want to hide for awhile and not have to face things.

The build-up can't last though. Eventually the dam bursts. Tears flood and then I can pick up and keep going. But the flood doesn't really come at a time of my choosing. And the longer it builds, the more painful it is when the breakthrough finally does happen. I wish I could figure out how to let it out on my own timing. Then I'd just have a good cry once the kids were in bed. No one would get hurt in the downpour. But because I haven't found, or may not be able to find a release switch, pain and frustration and sorrow build until I want to grab the nearest person's face in my hands and cry out, "I am NOT okay!!"

My friends and family don't need to have that weight flung at them at its heaviest. And I don't want them to have to put up with my increasing anxiety, lack of connection, and impatience until the dam finally bursts.

I will continue to try and deal with this healthily. Tonight, I just need for someone else to see this burden. I'm not asking you to take it away. All I'm asking is for you to say:

I see you. I see your burden. And I love you anyways.

Eva Words

Eva says so many words. She has over 50 now, and I even heard her put two of them together in a pseudo-sentence a couple of days ago. Here's a list of some of my favorites:

"DAH-doo" = water
"beesh" = brush (as in brush her teeth)
"tar(s)" = car(s)
"MI-mi" = bunny (she LOVES her stuffed bunny)
"boss" = blocks
"BEH-ee" = belly
"byoo" = blue
"BAH-bist" = breakfast
"lush" = lunch
"TUH-tee"= cookie
"CHEY-oh-uh" = chair
"piz-OH" = puzzle
"bup" = book
"sauce" = socks
"sah" = song
"has" = I want that
"tyoo" = me too!
"hud" = hug
"bed" = blanket
"chees" = cheeks
"ah yoo" = I love you

Momma loves you too, my little sugar plum.

Ten Minutes

It's hard for me to want to spend time outside. I can't quite figure out why. I like the indoors, and not so much the outdoors. Tonight, Chris took the kids out to the back yard to help Nathan learn to ride his bike and to play ball with the kids. I found myself wanting to go with them, and at the same time wanting to just sit inside and look at my phone (the pull of the screen is stronger than I'd like it to be). This day, I took the better path and went outside. I set a timer for 10 minutes and told myself, "You can sit not touching your phone or reading a book or doing anything but watching and interacting with your family outside for 10 minutes. You don't have to do more than that right now, but if you don't do at least that much, you'll regret it."

I'm glad I went. And I even stayed longer than ten minutes.

Focus on what you can do

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are asked to serve and extended specific callings from our leaders. In October three new apostles were called by the prophet, Thomas S. Monson, to serve as special witnesses of Christ. Over the last couple months I have enjoyed repeatedly returning to listen to their messages. Each expressed in word and through their countenance a feeling of humility (almost a degree of shock in some cases). And then each bore powerful witnesses of Jesus Christ that have been sent to all the world. 

Elder Stevenson described his call and then shared this impression he received as he agonized over his inadequacies: "focus not on what I can’t do but rather on what I can do."

"focus not on what I can’t do but rather on what I can do."

When we receive a new call (and sometimes when we've had a calling for a while), it's easy to run over and over in our minds the things we can't do. We feel unqualified because we lack certain abilities. Our calling may take a lot of time and we miss the things we used to do during that time. Maybe we miss the close association we had with other members in our previous calling. Maybe we miss attending a meeting that we no longer go to. 

I've felt all of these things at one time or other. Tonight, as I listened again to Elder Stevenson's counsel, I feel a renewed desire to change my focus. Focus on what I can do. I think that's the way to greater happiness and faith.

Want to join me? 

As a Primary Music Leader:

• I can sing my favorite Primary songs
• I can teach small children and older children (and even adults too, though sometimes they don't realize they're being included in the lesson ;)
• I can see bright smiles on young faces as we sing and move and joyfully discuss gospel principles
• I can help set a tone that will invite the Holy Ghost to Primary
• I can get to know many families in our ward through their children
• I can be all of the children's teacher
• I can hear them as they call out "Hi! Sis. Machado!" each Sunday
• I can encourage other adults as they teach children
• I can seek the Holy Ghost to be my constant companion
• I can sing songs with the children that they will remember for the rest of their lives
• I can hone my teaching skills
• I can bear witness of Jesus Christ
• I can bear witness of Heavenly Father's love for us
• I can feel the Holy Ghost when we sing eternal truths (which comes so readily to the call of these small-bodied, spiritual giants)

End of the day

Two-year-old Nathaniel is really good at pushing my buttons. Which says a lot more about me than it does about him. I mean, I have a lot of buttons to find and push. Teaching him each day, you can tell that he really does want to obey and wants to always be good, but it's really hard when you're only two!

Yesterday, Nathan was particularly good at finding all my buttons and pushing. each. one. By bedtime, I was more than ready to clock out from my job of being a momma. Once the littles were in bed, I turned on a show and folded some laundry. It took me just under an hour, and since the kiddos had been quiet for some time, I figured I'd risk sneaking into their bedroom to put their clothes away. Eva was sound asleep, but little Nathaniel was just quietly laying in bed with his eyes open, staring at the Christmas lights we put up in their room.

I didn't say anything to him, just put the clothes away. But once I finished I went over and gave that sweet head a kiss and told him I loved him. He asked in his sleepy little voice if I could get his teddy for him. No way I can turn that kid down when he asks me in that tired way. I found his bear, and you should have seen the big, slow smile that spread all across his face when he saw teddy. He whispered, "Thank you for getting my teddy, Momma!" several times as I hugged and kissed him goodnight.

Closing their door, I felt like the luckiest momma in the world. The least I can do to show my thanks for these small charges is to try once again to take the less traveled road of patience. Especially when they find my buttons and push. every. one.

That's my boy.

Wonder Struck

I want to remember this phase. There is such beauty, it almost melts me.

I am a home-body. I love being at home. I could stay in the house all day for even a couple of days and not miss going out. And I get to spend my days with my two small children.

Nathan says the most hilarious things. Today he said brightly while riding in the car, "Oops. I left my ear. I will pick it up." He loves to joke and tease you. Especially saying things the way he knows they aren't just to hear my reaction. Nathan loves to read too. He laughed a full belly laugh the other day when we read a book about a cat looking for his purr who was startled by a cuckoo clock. He brings me a book every day and says, "Mommy, read it, Please!" in his sing-song way. And anything that goes (trains, big-rigs, dump trucks, planes, cars, motorcycles) just fascinate him. He is so sweet to his sister. They sometimes giggle and play through nap-time and I often can't bring myself to put a stop to it. Nathan sings and dances and remembers so much. His mind is like a sponge that soaks up everything it sees.

Eva is learning how to show she understands what's going on around her. She'll mimic back several animal sounds if you do it first. Her horsey sound is a slobbery raspberry, she softly hisses like a snake, and her lion growl is so much fiercer than her petite frame belies. Eva crawls quickly and walks around the furniture. She loves taking hold of a finger from each of my hands and walking around the house. Eva will also speed-crawl into the kitchen when you aren't looking and forage for any food she may have dropped during meal time. Sometimes I think she drops the food on purpose so she can snack on it later. Eva loves to give open mouthed kisses and has 8 full teeth with two molars on the way, so you better believe those kisses are wet! My favorite is when she'll sneaky-kiss my face as I help her say her prayers at night. My eyes are closed and of a sudden slobbery lips are touching mine. Eva says "Ma-Ma" and "Da-da" and has started saying "hi!" especially when she sees herself in a mirror.

I've lived in a dark hole of anxiety and depression for so long, but since moving here my days are overwhelmingly bright and full. My mind and emotions aren't yet whole, but there is such a difference to the degree of depression. I feel more resilient, more able to become who I want to become. My home is staying cleaner than it's been, I'm finding time to pursue creativity through stitching, sewing, quilting, knitting. I feel more like me. Sometimes I dance in the grocery store just because I'm feeling bubbly. I'm sillier with my kids and have the emotional resources to imagine games with Nathaniel.

I don't know how to describe all the beauty in my life right now and this list is far from comprehensive. And too, not all is easy and perfect and good. The children scream. The dishes still pile (not to mention the clean and dirty laundry). I falter often and still have raw, fragile emotional times. But the predominant feeling is one of grateful wonderment at what a season of life this is.

I know it won't last. Some financial or physical or spiritual or mental or familial hardship will come. It has to, or I wouldn't grow into who I'm meant to. But I wanted to record this tranquil oasis in my life. I want to look back on it when the seas are rough again and be able to treasure that feeling and trust that the calm will someday reappear. It is a bliss I hope we all will have a chance to taste.