Living Happily Ever After

test123

Blog Articles

Hamsters Do It All The Time

Q: “Is there any living species of animals that feed on their young?
A: A lot of them. Many invertebrates (like insects and spiders) will eat their young…most fish will eat the young as they do not distinguish their young from others. Some mammals will kill and eat the young if stressed.  Hamsters do it all the time. As a kid I raised mink and we had problems. In a thunderstorm the female may devour the young. Much of the cannibalism among mammals is caused by stress and not hunger.” (AllExperts.com)

I’m pretty sure there’s a Proverb about “One bad apple spoils the whole bunch.” And since I’ve never taken the time to thank that one bad apple, I thought I’d do it now.
I was snuggling with my youngest before bed recently, which led to an interesting conversation. His arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, squeezing almost to the point of choking me (anyone who has hugged a toddler/small child knows the kind of hug I’m talking about!) He had just finished whisper-singing a few songs in my ear and we lay face to face, chatting about anything and everything and soon, our talk turned to love.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mommy.”
“I love you more.”
“How much?”
“I love you SO MUCH…I could eat you up!” And I kissed his cheek, his neck, the top of his head, and tickled him a little bit for good measure. (Ok, and I admit it, I may have pretended to gobble him up, but only a little bit.)
He stopped, released his hold on me, pulled back, looked me right in the eye with a bit of suspicion, trepidation and uncertainty and clarified, “But you wouldn’t ACTUALLY eat one of your children…would you, Mom?”
No, I would not. I promise I will not. In fact, I can guarantee it. But how remiss of me to never have thanked the spiders, insects and other creatures who apparently do and who have given the rest of us mothers a bad rap. Thank you. And despite the fact that apparently hamsters do it all the time, I promise I don’t. And won’t.
“I love running cross country…On a track, I feel like a hamster.” (Robin Williams)


All We Want To Do Is…Dance!

There is a strong chance that siblings who turn out well were hassled by the same parents.” (Robert Brault)

When my unexpected life hit, there were many uncertainties. Correction: almost everything was a question mark for me. The only thing I knew for certain, in fact, was that I was going to do what was best for my children. That has been my goal since I became a parent (for the first time, in April 1993), and thankfully, has remained my focus since March 18, 2009.

How you go about accomplishing that, however, is THE feat. In my opinion, there are a lot of contradictions. For example, not one solution is best for all of my children all of the time. So I have had to base my decisions on what is best for the majority.  Sometimes I have to base them on individual need, who needs a certain solution the most.

Years ago, I attended a speech by an impressive parenting expert who advised that if you want to raise good children, give them plenty of doses of Vitamin “N”—no; plenty of “character building” experiences. Another child rearing specialist told me that as a parent you should say “yes” as much as you can, so that when you have to say “no” it will be more impactful to your children. See what I mean about contradictions?

I guess that’s life.

And true to life, my parenting, itself, has a lot of its own contradictions as well.  For example, I’m a fan of humor and laughter. It lightens things up when they need it, it’s cleansing and it also makes things a lot more fun! At our house, we laugh a lot. And right or wrong, I even try to use humor in discipline. I try to correct my children, when I can, with a wink or a joke before things get too out of control and serious. As part of this weird parenting approach, there is also the “consequence” of dancing.

We love to dance at our house. Family dance parties are not unusual. And for some reason, whether we live in Colorado or Utah, they usually take place in the kitchen! One day I realized how much I enjoyed dancing with my kids and how much I hated having to be the “bad guy”/administrator of the consequences of wrong choices. I was struck with a brilliant thought. I decided to get a little creative (after all, I AM the mother of my children) and combined the two. At my house, if you make a wrong choice, watch out.  You may have to dance a solo for your mother, and she gets to pick the song! That worked well for several years, but then I felt my kids started enjoying dancing too much. So I had to change tactics. The new rule? If my son messed up, his consequence was that he had to watch ME dance! (Coincidentally, that son has hardly ever needed correction! Brilliant mothering, if I do say so myself. One dance performance from his mother, and that is all it took to keep him on the straight and narrow: choose the right or be mentally scarred for life. No question my son was going to make good choices:)

He has grown into a fine young man.

With great rhythm.

And you should see his dance moves!

Swimming Lesson for Life

“It’s been told that swimming is a wimp sport, but I don’t see it.  We don’t get timeouts, in the middle of a race we can’t stop and catch our breath, we can’t roll on our stomachs and lie there, and we can’t ask for a substitution.” (Dusty Hicks)

I spent the first five years of my life in Arizona. We lived in a community surrounding a golf course. Almost every home, but ours, had a swimming pool. And there were no fences. Needless to say, parents taught their children to swim at a very early age.

Swimming lessons are some of my earliest memories. And the one I remember best took place when I was about 3 years old. That was the day my instructor, Mr. Shipley, went beyond teaching me how to save myself if I fell into the water near the edge of a pool. He wanted me to know how to save myself any time, anywhere, and in any water. That must have been why they paid him the big bucks. He was a life saver, literally. But I was too young to appreciate it at the time. I didn’t love Mr. Shipley or swimming lessons. But you don’t always immediately appreciate those things that teach you the most important life lessons.

The day came when he told me to jump off the diving board and save myself.

I felt like Bob Marley must have felt when he said, “Well, me don’t swim too tough so me don’t go in the water too deep.” (Bob Marley)

No way.

My respect for authority was overpowered by my absolute fear of death and drowning.

Mr. Shipley wasn’t up for a debate. He picked me up, walked to the edge of the diving board, and threw me in.

I went in the water; bubbles and blue everywhere I looked. I was terrified of sinking to the bottom and becoming lost forever, so I looked up, at the lighter blue surface of the water, and kicked and paddled for all I was worth. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. And somehow I had the impression Mr. Shipley wasn’t going to do anything to help me; it was up to me.

I kept focused on the water’s surface. I didn’t quit clawing. And somehow before I ran out of breath and drowned, I broke the surface of the water. I could hear clapping and cheering from the edges of the pool, but no one jumped in to rescue me; it was still up to me to get myself from the center of the deep end of the pool to the safety of an edge. So I continued paddling.

I got there.

I felt the strong arms of Mr. Shipley grab me, pull me out of the water, and heard him tell me he knew along I could do it.

My swimming lessons with him were over.

I had learned what to do and how to save myself from an unexpected water adventure.

He put me on the community swim team, instead. Where each week I had to voluntarily jump in the water and not only make it to the other side, but get there in good time. By the time I was 4, I was winning races.

The unexpected life is kind of like that. One moment, you’re safely on the deck or diving board. The next, you’re flailing and floundering in the water. But I learned at a young age you’re only sunk when you quit trying to save yourself; when you quit, give up and let yourself sink to the bottom. However, if you keep clawing your way to break the surface of the water (so you can breathe again) you will make it. Hopefully, you’ll even learn to enjoy swimming. But if not, I guarantee you’ll always be grateful for what you got through and for what you learned in the process.

“No man drowns if he perseveres in praying to God, and can swim.”  (Russian Proverb)

In Charge

The day we met Cheryl Preheim we spent time in our home and in the canyon not far from our home. Eventually, I had to leave the canyon and take my middle son to football practice.

Cheryl asked, “How about if your older two children stay here with Ken and I, we’ll talk to them alone and take them home when we’re done?”

I hadn’t expected that, for some reason. I hadn’t prepared myself, or them, for that experience. I have amazing children, but still, it’s kind of huge to leave your teens alone, in front of a camera that’s recording–who knows what they’ll say? But in life, especially the unexpected one, you’ve got to improvise. I’ve flown by the seat of my pants a lot since March 18, 2009. So I drove away.

When we were back at my home, Cheryl caught me alone and said, “I have to tell you about our interview.”

I died inside.

I sort of panicked. And I’m ashamed to say, I imagined the worst.

“What?” I asked. “They didn’t argue or fight did they? They weren’t rude, were they?” That would be just my luck to display, not for the first time (please see 2009′s media reports on Shawn Merriman and the revelation of his Ponzi scheme if you don’t know what I’m talking about!) the finest aspects of our character, our finest moments, publicly, in the media.

Cheryl laughed and said, “Don’t worry! Your children are amazing. I just sat and heard your teenage son tell me life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% what you do with it. I can’t believe it.” She shared something inspiring my daughter had said, as well, and the mother in me calmed down.

Instead, it was one of those parent paydays. You parents out there know what those are. You love, labor to teach, serve, and expend your energies helping your children grow and develop and learn all they need to…and you don’t always see the fruits of your efforts right away. But if you’re lucky, every now and then, you get glimpses of the amazing adults they’re on track to become. It reminds you how worth it all is, how much fun it has all been. That’s how that day turned out for me.

Coincidentally, the thought about attitude my son referenced is part of a quote Cheryl had heard before. She loved it so much she carried it with her. And she left that thought, in the form of a fridge magnet, for us when she left. Here it is:

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company… a church… a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our Attitudes.” (Charles R. Swindoll)

Thanks, Cheryl. (And Charles.)

I believe the only way you’re going to get through life and rise above your challenges is to take charge–and keep a good attitude. It is something I’ve come to realize the longer I’VE lived. And when you can’t control the the unexpected events that become your life, it’s comforting to be in charge of something.

Thank goodness we’re always in charge of the most important thing.

Attitude.

“I am more and more convinced that our happiness or our unhappiness depends far more on the way we meet the events of life than on the nature of those events themselves.” (Karl Wilhelm von Humboldt)


I Didn’t Even Debate It

While we were waiting for the ring…

“I told my therapist I was having nightmares about nuclear explosions. He said don’t worry it’s not the end of the world.” (Jay London)

I have a friend who’s a therapist. He can’t be my “official” therapist due to a conflict of interest because of our friendship, but he makes a fabulous friend. He is always there with brilliant counsel, and I would think twice about ever disregarding his friendly advice. In fact, if I’ve never told him, I don’t know what I would have done without him on March 18, 2009.

My world had fallen apart and the question of the day from everyone–my husband, his attorney, the government, my church leaders, my friends, my family, my children, EVERYONE–was, “What are you going to do?” Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue.

I don’t remember if he called me or I called him, but my conversation with him was one of the most important and valuable that day. When he asked, ‘Andrea, what are you going to do?” I replied, “I don’t know. All I know is that I want to do what is best for my children. And it seems to be…” I shared my thoughts with him.

Doing what I felt was best for my children was my #1 goal in the whole unexpected life thing. They had their whole lives ahead of them; and as much as it broke my heart to acknowledge it, I’d had my chance. Regardless of their adversity, they still had lives to live. They needed to learn, grow, overcome, accomplish, and LIVE. It was my responsibility to help them do that.

It’s what my mom had done for me when I was growing up and our family was tried and tested in the adversity of losing our father, lifestyle, life and everything as we’d known it. (Although not to the extent my children lost theirs.) It’s what her mom had done for her when their family was tried and tested in the adversity of losing their father, lifestyle, life and everything as they’d known it. And I knew I owed my children the same thing.

My mother, and her example of rising above adversity and carrying on, and that she taught me to do that, had made all of the difference in my life. When my unexpected life hit, I knew exactly how to act and what to do–to carry on–because she had taught me that.

My friend, the therapist, responded with something that helped me continue the path I had chosen. It set an important course for my unexpected life when he said, “Andrea, if only every woman, every parent, in trauma, adversity, marital stress, divorce, and every other hard thing that comes in life did that, their children would be so much better off! There would be a lot more healthy, happy children in the world.”

So as we’ve lived our unexpected life, I’ve tried to focus on helping my children overcome and be what they should be regardless of the challenging circumstances we’ve found ourselves in. And as I see my children healing and finding happiness and joy again, I believe time has proved my decision to be the right one. After all, it’s not what happens to you, really, that counts. It’s what you do with it. The most important thing to me is that my children grow to become good, kind, responsible, law abiding citizens who contribute to the good of the world. And it’s possible to do that regardless of the obstacles in your path. That’s why I chose to put my children first. It was my therapist friend who backed me up in that decision, too.

So, one of the first people I called after reaching my decision to remarry was this friend.

He’d already met Bachelor #5 (that was prerequisite to me making my decision), and when I asked him what I should do next he recommended premarital counseling. He gave me the name of a therapist he knew who specialized in remarriage and I didn’t even debate it. I called and booked an appointment.

Circles

It’s funny how things turn out.

On March 18, 2009, when I discovered my husband had been running a Ponzi scheme and would be heading to prison, in that moment I thought every possibility and dream for a bright future for my children and I had been shattered. Of course, I continued to press forward and talk positively about our opportunities for the sake of my children, but deep inside sometimes I wondered how my children and I were ever going to overcome the monumental challenges we were facing.

We moved from Colorado to Utah and began a new life. There were some dark moments and hard days, especially in the beginning. Some of us seemed to struggle more than others with the adjustment. But there were also many tender mercies, small miracles and blessings. And eventually, we all realized we liked our new home and our new life. We are happy in our unexpected life. VERY happy.

This was reinforced last week. I went with my oldest to his end-of-season high school track team banquet. We enjoyed time together just the two of us. Aside from our late night chats and drives, I couldn’t remember the last time it was just he and I alone in the daylight. Note to self: spend time with oldest more often when we’re both more coherent and awake! lol. Not only was it absolutely enjoyable to be with him, it was fun for me, as his mother, to put faces to the names and stories I’ve heard the past few months.

Then came the awards portion of the evening. As it was his first track season, and his first attempt at learning the hurdles, he wasn’t expecting any awards. In fact, every time I’d tried to go to a track meet this season he had discouraged me from watching, told me he wasn’t doing very well and that this was his season to learn and I should watch him run next year. So I almost fell off my chair when my son was awarded a varsity letter in track! And then he got an All-Region Academic Excellence Award too!

As we were pulling out of the parking lot afterward, I had to ask why he’d insisted he was performing so poorly in track all season. He said, “I did. I didn’t break one school record–that was my goal!”

I said, “So you aimed for the stars and only hit the moon and THAT is why you didn’t think you did very well? THAT is why you wouldn’t let your mother watch you race?”

And as we drove home I had to shake my head at the turn of events in our life the past year. Every single aspect of our new life is going so much better than I ever expected it would. I told my son what a great experience the track banquet was, and what a great opportunity it was for him to participate on his school’s track team. He agreed. I said, “You have created a great new life here. I am so thankful and so proud of your attitude and all you’ve accomplished.”

He replied, “Yes, it has been amazing. I am so happy here. The only thing I regret is…”

Here is where I started to die inside–gut reaction of a worried mother. I braced myself to hear the disappointment and prepared myself to instantly put a positive spin on whatever his challenge was.

Instead, he finished by saying, “The only thing I regret is…that I didn’t get to go to all four years of high school here. Next year is going to be AWESOME!”

Whoa. Last summer, and even at the start of last school year, I never imagined he’d ever feel that way or that I’d ever hear him say that! I realized we have come full circle.

“There must be a positive and negative in everything in the universe in order to complete a circuit or circle, without which there would be no activity, no motion.” (John McDonald)

Equation for the unexpected life: positive + negative = progress (and eventual peace and joy!)

Bookmark and Share

Father’s Day

I know Mother’s Day is coming. But what I’m thinking about today is Father’s Day 2009. What a TOUGH day.

Although our family had always gone to church together that day, 2009 was a different. My spouse didn’t go to church with us anymore, and that day, my two youngest did not want to go to church without their dad. I couldn’t blame them. On top of everything else they were dealing with, how hard to be so young and see everyone else sitting by their dads when my sons knew their dad was headed to prison.

How hard would it be to get up and sing Father’s Day songs…to other dads? I felt for them. I really did. When they both complained they had sore throats (in June), I didn’t even question it. I let them stay home.

But instead of celebrating the father of my children that day, I really struggled inside toward Him. Although I didn’t express it out loud, this is how I felt and what I wrote that day, despite my goal not to hate anyone: “I could hate him for the lies He told and lived for almost two decades, for what He did to his victims, and for all He has done to what was once our family. But the hardest thing I face is not about any of that. How am I ever NOT going to hate him for what He has done to our children? This day is just a reminder to me of all that. I feel He deserves absolutely nothing.”

But what I felt and what I did were two different things.

I needed to do what was best for my children. I had to show them a good example. I had to model what I thought was the right behavior. I had to practice what I had always preached.

I had to choose NOT to hate.

I wished Him a “Happy Father’s Day” and I spent a little of the practically non-existent cash on small gifts from my two youngest children. I suggested my daughter bake a dessert her dad loved as her “gift” to Him. It was the right thing to do: for Him (his last Father’s Day for many years, probably) and surely for my children.

Prior to the day, one of my older children came to me and said, “You aren’t going to do anything for dad for Father’s Day, are you?”

I replied that I would help any of them celebrate their dad in whatever way we could think of and manage. When asked what they planned they replied, “Nothing. He deserves nothing after all he has done. And he did NOTHING for you on Mother’s Day.” (But that’s another blog post.)

I acknowledged that child’s feelings and told that child whatever they felt and whatever they decided, was the right choice and I would support them in that. But I told them for the two younger kids, helping them honor their dad was the right thing…for them.

I don’t know what the experts say about that. I certainly am not one. But my instinct was that in situations like ours, or divorce situations or any other situations the parents cause and their children have no choice in what takes place, the children HAVE to be free to feel what they feel, and to be validated in what they feel–whatever that is–and that whatever they feel is right and correct and the right choice for them.

I told my children that again and again during 2009. And I wasn’t just saying that, I believe that. But I also told them at some point, they’d have to let themselves feel everything, work through it all, heal and forgive. I told them that is the only thing I insist on: they have to forgive.

The horror in one child’s eyes, when they realized I expected them to forgive their dad at some point, was evident! But I stood by it and still do. I told them forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to be their best friend, or that you even have to spend time with them, but you have to let go of the hate. You have to overcome their wrongs against you, forgive them, and rise above the natural inclination to hold a grudge or hate.

I truly believe in forgiveness. For everyone. For everything. Because if you don’t forgive, that hatred can destroy you. And then THAT is the true tragedy. Not the terrible destruction caused by the perpetrator, not everything the perpetrator destroys, but your destruction. The destruction you allow to happen because of the choices made by someone else.

Hatred is like acid. It can do more damage to the vessel in which it is stored than to the object on which it is poured.

And in my humble opinion, that is no way to live!

THAT is why I believe in forgiveness. And why I’m doing all I can to help my children feel it toward their father and any others who wrong them. Because I want so much for them. I want them to experience all life has to offer. Life is good. Life can be beautiful–even in spite of, or maybe even because of, the hard stuff.

My children have important things to accomplish, greatness to embrace, and oak trees to become. “Today’s mighty oak tree is merely yesterday’s little nut that managed to hold its ground.”

That’s what we’re about at our house. That’s really our bottom line. We’re just a bunch of nuts trying to hold our ground through a very unexpected life!

Bookmark and Share