Life with the Brudfam

Promises

My little Freckles is a worrier.  She was born that way.  And maybe it's genetic, because her mom was once a worrier too (and sometimes still is).  

When Freckles was just 14 months old, Blue Eyes was born and stole the limelight from her.  Pulled the rug from right under her two little feet that just learned to walk the weekend Blue Eyes was born. She didn't get to be a baby long enough.  

And then when Freckles was 16 months, I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the third time.  It was a traumatic time for all of us.  But it was particularly hard on Freckles.  She hated being away from me.  And I couldn't care for her.  I had pretty major surgery and was in the hospital for several days.  When I came home, I couldn't lift my arms or move much.  I couldn't pick up my girls or hold them.  My mom came and helped and took such great care of all the girls.  And me.  But Freckles wanted me to take care of her.  And when my mom had to leave and care for my dad who was having surgery, my neighbors and ward members came and took my kids every day.  Hannah would cry and cry.  I would cry and cry.  It was such a helpless feeling that I couldn't do my job as a mother.   After I started to heal from my surgery, I started chemotherapy and had weekly procedures to prepare for reconstruction surgery, and then finally more surgery.  It was nine months of turmoil.  And also nine months of joy.  The little things suddenly meant so much more.  When we look back at that time, we mostly remember the good. The miracles. The blessings.

Since that time, she has carried a lot of anxiety.  Asking lots of what-if questions.  Wondering if each bump or ache or cut is something really serious.  Is she going to die? Is there going to be an earthquake? Is the canker sore in her mouth really a tumor?  Rarely have I been able to give her answers that will soothe her.  Because I can't take the worry away from her, no matter what I say.

When she was little, she loved to pack little purses with her toys.  She always had a little purse (or big one) on her shoulder with her stuff in it.  And now she carries a little bag full of worries and concerns. Most of them are about her health.  She is so scared something bad will happen to her.  I do my best to comfort her and assure her that all is well.  And then she looks at me with those big brown eyes and begs me to promise her that nothing is wrong with her.  And that's where I fail her.  Or maybe that's where I'm true to her.  Because I can't guarantee it.  I can promise her that everything will be ok in the end, everything always has a way of working out, but I can't stop life from happening.  I am not in control of that.  

How do you teach a child that?  How do you explain that we are in the Lord's hands, that our job on earth is to do the best we can with whatever comes our way.  That bad things happen sometimes. But that we can't live in fear or worry because most of the time, life is really great.  And no matter how much you worry about something, worry won't change or fix it.  I want her to enjoy life and be carefree. Worry is like a thief, stealing away precious time. I want to teach her to be brave and strong, to not let that thief steal her childhood.   Wish me luck.

I spent three intense and fun days working in LA with my sisters this week. We had a great time, despite working 10-12 hour days. And we were ready to get home by the time we arrived at the Long Beach airport last night. I was slightly annoyed by the lady in front of me who kept setting off the alarm each time she walked thru the security gate..  Of course it's a small airport and there was only one x-ray machine in use and the line was long.  I think I might have mumbled to Jennifer that this lady was taking forever and she should really have been prepared to go thru....like taking off her jewelry and belt.  I think it took her 3 times before she finally walked thru clean.  

Then it was my turn and I walked thru very smuggly.  Beep.  Oops.  It's probably your bracelet, said the officer.  So I throw my bracelets in a round container and try again.  Beep.  Do you have a belt on, he asked.  No.  But my cell phones in my back pocket.  Dang.  Back to grab another round container and send that thru the machine.  Third times a charm, right?  Wrong.  Your earrings are probably setting it off, the officer smiled patiently at me.  So I send those thru the machine in another round container.  Each time my confidence has been zapped and at this point I timidly walk thru, expecting to hear another beep. But there's no beep.  I made it thru!

I wonder how many people were watching me go thru over and over and thinking, come on lady, get it together.  Be prepared.  I sat down afterwards and told Colette and Jennifer my story.  And I couldn't stop laughing at myself.  It was humbling to have my judgements and impatience come smack me in the face like that.  It's so easy to judge and become frustrated with others.  But we often overlook our own shortcomings while criticizing and looking down at those around us.  

So we sat and laughed out loud for a few minutes.  The more we laughed, the funnier (is that a word?) it became.  People around us were looking at us, wondering what the crazy ladies were laughing about.  We kept on laughing and laughing at my own stupidity.  

When the laughing finally stopped, we shared 6 mini cupcakes from the famous LA bakery Rossmoor Pastries. There's nothing like a little chocolate to make you feel better.