Sometimes the right answer isn't the one you expect (or want) to hear...

     Mike recently received a job offer at a company in NYC.  He officially accepted the position as of last week.  It's still a shock for me.  We've only been in Portland for 17 months and now we are moving AGAIN.  And not just a small move.  We're moving to a GIANT city on the other side of the country.  I have loved it here ever since we arrived last year.  I have had my heart set on putting down roots, buying a house and raising our kids HERE.  I have grown to love the Pacific Northwest and it breaks my heart to leave.
     For many months now, Mike and I have been praying for guidance to know where we should be looking for houses.  We've also been praying to know what to do about Mike's job situation.  In my mind, I wasn't looking outside of the Portland area because I thought we were going to be here long term.  And for many years I've been telling Mike that the East Coast was off limits.  I figured he'd surely be able to find a job on this side of the country, because there was no way I would agree to anything different.
     Well, knowing that our lease was about to expire this past March, Mike and I started house hunting sometime around February.  And during our months of searching, I just never felt "right" about any of the places we looked at.  I kept getting the prompting to be patient because there would be something else out there to consider. I thought maybe the house we were supposed to live in just wasn't on the market yet or other various possibilities.  I'm not a very patient person, but I agreed to wait and trusted that the timing wasn't right, for whatever reason.
     In the meantime, Mike and I discussed the possibility of him leaving his current company.  There were some rumors going around that made Mike feel uneasy, and long story short---in order for us to be serious about buying a house he needed to feel secure in his job first.  So we decided to put the house hunting on hold until we felt more confident about his current job position or until he found another job that would provide more stability.  We both assumed that he'd find another job in the Portland area.  He applied to quite a few places, but there were no jobs listed in this area that would help him progress in the profession he is interested in.  Although, the jobs he was looking at seemed decent enough, he felt like he'd be taking a step away from his ultimate career goal.
     So he applied to a job posting that actually fit the exact description of what he does at his current job.  The posting said that they would prefer that the chosen employee work from the Houston, TX office or the NYC office, BUT that they could be flexible.  Mike thought he might have a chance to work from Portland if he got offered the job, because all he really needs to do his job is a phone and a computer, and many of the other associates are supposedly located all over the country.  Well, he killed it on all the interviews and made a great impression on everyone he talked to.  When he was offered the job he asked about the "flexibility" regarding location that was mentioned in the posting.  It turns out they were just kidding, apparently.  :)  They told him that moving to the NYC office was a requirement.
   Anyway, it's been a very stressful week and a half.  His new boss wanted Mike to let him know of our decision a.s.a.p.  But Mike's work schedule made it impossible for us to talk about it in detail for a few days.  The Friday after he got the offer we decided we needed to seriously take some time to discuss the prospect of moving.  We wanted to go to the temple to receive more insight about what was right for our family, but the temple was closed until the 19th and we didn't have time to wait for that.  We were signed up to attend the ward camp out that night, but instead, we arranged for a babysitter to come over so we could have some alone time from the kids to converse about the job he'd have, where we might live, and the craziness of it all.
     I mulled over it all weekend.  I weighed the pros and cons.  My mind kept going back and forth.  The Lord says He wants us ponder and study things out and come to a decision and ask Him if it's right.  But during times like this, I wish He would just tell me the right answer.  I have the mindset of "I'll do whatever it is you want, just don't make me decide, mmmmmkay?"  Making the choice is the hardest part because I so desperately don't want to make the wrong one.
     On Sunday Mike and I fasted together.  The talks during sacrament meeting really hit me hard.  God knew I needed to hear those words.  The first talk was about finding an answer.  Things I took from the other talks included seizing opportunities, jobs, education, priorities....lots of stuff that was at the forefront of my mind.
     That night I told Mike I felt like we needed to move to NYC.  And he concurred with me.  I think he knew the right answer long before I received a witness.  It isn't what I wanted at first.  But sometimes the right answer isn't the one you want to hear.  It is really sad for me in a lot of ways.  Mike's brother just got a job in Seattle and we were excited to live closer to some more of our family.  I love our ward and the people in it.  I have made good friends here.  I love our neighbors and our kids have friends.  Vessel will just be starting school and have to leave a few months in.  I love the whole Portland vibe.  I love the beauty that exists in western Oregon.  I loved the mild winter we experienced last year (no snow and no below zero temps!)  And it feels like we JUST MOVED.  That's because we did!!  It is still hard to wrap around my mind around all this, but if this is where the Lord wants us to be, then I will follow the promptings of the spirit.  It's definitely very scary, but I feel more at peace about it after praying.  Everything will be okay.
     And, on the bright side, the move to New York won't be permanent.  We will end up back here in a few years.  This is where Mike and I agree we want to settle down for the rest of our lives.  This job experience will be good for him and good for his resume.  And I support my husband in his new venture.  Hmmmm, I guess it turns out I will follow him wherever he goes, even the East Coast.  I must love him or something.
    There are so many things I need to do in the next few months.  Mike will be leaving to start work in a couple of weeks.  And while he's living in the city I will be here with my little ones, trying to arrange moving and talking to realtors.  It will be hard to be away from him for weeks at a time until we find the right house and the boys and I can finally move out there and be reunited with him.  *sigh*   I'll have to get back into the swing of writing on this blog so I can keep people posted on our latest adventure.       
     

Pity Party

Excerpts from my journal from a few weeks ago:

"I just don't know if I can handle another pregnancy...Perhaps it's the fatigue and lack of sleep talking ...having a newborn is probably the hardest stage for me. It always has been with each child. Having 3 children hasn't been easy. Especially when Vessel & Jacob are screaming or fighting and the baby is crying and I am exhausted. It's hard to feel like I'm being a good mom. It's hard to feel like I'm meeting the individual needs of my children when I'm so tired & impatient and when I'm trying to do so many things at once. I know this time of my life is only temporary. But it is a huge adjustment. I've had a few hard days. The hormonal roller-coaster hasn't been fun. I've cried a lot since the baby was born. I just don't understand why women have to go through all these crazy changes during and after pregnancy. And it being winter just makes it worse. Not being able to take the kids for walks, or go to the park, or the swimming pool. And this tiny apartment feels so confining and stuffy and sometimes I feel so claustrophobic here. I hate the feeling of being isolated. ...I want to be able to go out and do something on my own, but I feel tied down to the baby. I don't want that to sound bad, it just is what it is. I have to feed him, he relies on me for nourishment and comfort. I am the only one who seems to understand what he wants, or how he likes to be held, or what will calm him down when he's fussy. I feel like I can't be away from him. Maybe it's instinct we're born with that kicks in when we become mothers. An instinct that keeps us from abandoning our babies. Whatever it is, that feeling is strong. He needs me and I need him. And even though some days I feel like I am going to go totally bat crap crazy in this apartment and I need a break just to get away, if I do leave for even an hour to do my own thing, all I think about is the baby. I know he won't be a baby forever. But these next few months are going to be the hardest .....I feel so detached from everyone. During a time of such love and happiness with Christmas almost here, all I feel is a heavy, cold heart. I feel really far away from everyone and everything around me. I want to let go of this feeling, to set myself free from the grip of loneliness and sadness I feel. Is it just a matter of not giving into the sadness?"

Yes, for the last month I've been experiencing the "baby blues," if you will. I've kind of been struggling to stay afloat, just trying to get through each day and not fall apart. But, a couple of days ago while I was rocking the baby, I opened the Ensign and started reading this article. Go ahead, read it, it's a goody. This talk hit me pretty hard as I came to realize that the reason I was having such a hard time finding happiness was because I was focusing too much on the negative. Eyring says "We must ask in prayer that God, by the power of the Holy Ghost, will help us see our blessings clearly even in the midst of our trials. He can help us by the power of the Spirit to recognize and be grateful for blessings we take for granted." I don't think I have been sufficiently grateful. I know my trials are real for me, but things could be so much worse than they are. In reality, I have so much to be thankful for. Haven is a good baby and the boys have adjusted better than I thought. Jacob has been so sweet to the baby and doesn't act jealous or resentful at all. Vessel has been a good helper to me. There have been so many people willing and wanting to help out during this time. People have brought us meals and have offered to help watch the kids. Some friends have offered to take Vessel for a few hours so I could get some stuff done. My sister was so nice to drive up here and spend a week with me. Having her here was a godsend. She took the older boys out for a couple hours each day to get them out of the house. She was so helpful and without being asked, changed diapers, got the kids dressed in the morning, and prepared lunch for everyone. She did so much. And then my husband's parents came to visit for a week and they did just about everything from doing the dishes and laundry to taking the boys out so I could take a nap. They were amazing. More than amazing, actually.
Mike has been in Portland since Wednesday morning and I have had some severe anxiety knowing I'd be alone every night with the 3 kids. On a typical day I am comforted to know that I'm going to get some relief come 5 o'clock when Mike walks through the door. I was worried about the anxiety and loneliness I was going to feel every night, but I have been so lucky. My downstairs neighbor came up and stayed with me to keep me company for a couple hours and even brought me a plate of homemade candy. My dear friend came over Thursday night and had dinner with me and helped me while I got my kiddos ready for bed and then she just stayed and talked with me for awhile. That definitely cheered me up. Another friend invited me to her house for dinner last night. And yet another friend called me today and ended up going to the grocery store with me to help out with the kids. Plus a friend of mine picked up Vessel for preschool and dropped him off this past week so that I didn't have to. I feel so blessed at the outpouring of love so many people have shown me. It definitely makes me feel less alone and feel like there are people I can count if things get too hard.

For the past couple of weeks I allowed myself to become overwhelmed by my sadness and depression. Of course, the hormones and post pregnancy issues aren't completely resolved yet. But I know that Heavenly Father listens to and answers my prayers. Ever since reading Elder Eyring's words, I have been praying to feel more gratitude and it's actually helping. My burden feels lighter. I feel more capable of coping with my circumstances. I have a deeper desire of to serve others and to not focus so selfishly on my own problems. I am trying to embrace parenthood more and magnify my calling as wife and mother. I know the Spirit has touched me this week and I now feel GRATITUDE more than I have in a very long time.

Self Discovery 2 part 3

Entry: Faith

I only went to Primary a handful of times. On ocassion my mom would attend Relief Society and drop my sister off at nursery and me off at Primary. I don't remember much about it. I had been 8 years old for about 5 months before my teacher realized I hadn't been baptized yet. So she scheduled an appointment for me with the Bishop during class. I didn't know what was going on. Even though the Bishop was very nice, I remember sitting in his office feeling incredibly nervous. He asked me some questions. Next thing I knew I was going to get baptized.
I remember the week leading up to my baptism. I talked about it non stop. I wasn't exactly sure what it all meant. I'd get my sins washed away. I'd make a promise with God. I'd have to be good, good, good. But I wanted it. I felt so compelled to be "good" or perhaps God would be mad at me. My understanding at that age was very limited. Not to mention I had never really been taught about the gospel at home. Yet, I was so eager for the big day. And when it came I was very excited because I knew it was an important day. Many of my family members came (the majority of which were inactive or non-members of the church.) Most of the actual baptism is a blur to me now. Although, I know I was confirmed the same night. I remember some men laying their hands on my head, my hair still dripping with water. And this is the part that isn't a blur. The feeling I felt after I was baptized and confirmed. The warm feeling in my heart.
When we got home that night I recall my sister and I laying on the lawn with our big pillows. It was a warm night. Dusk. Everyone was gone by then. We were alone in the grass and we layed there and talked. I tried to explain the joy in my heart to Steph. But I couldn't describe THAT feeling. The memory of that particular sensation has never left me. I knew very little about the gospel or Jesus or even Heavenly Father at that time. Yes, I had prayed to them before and I had felt peace from praying. But this feeling was different. Even with my scarce experience and knowledge there was no way I could deny that feeling. It WAS NOT something anybody could have ever "taught" me. It was real. A warm, sweet tingling all over. Like I truly was clean and could feel Their arms around me. I could feel that. And nobody can ever take that memory from me. It has always been such a sacrosanct part of my past. Something that has increased my faith in times of doubt.
Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I don't remember going to church again for a very long time. It wasn't until about age 12 when we moved to our 3rd house that I started attending church again.

Self Discovery 2 part 2

Entry: Faith

My first experience with faith occurred when I was about 5 years old. Around that age I started to have severe episodes of sleepwalking. It was really quite bad. I would go outside and walk toward the highway. (We lived in the country.) My mom would wake up to find me outside then run out and steer me back into the house. Or I would walk out into the field behind our house with the dog. Or mess around in the kitchen opening drawers and the fridge and pulling things out. These sleepwalking episodes went on for a long time. I had anxiety attacks leading up to bedtime. I was always so scared that something bad was going to happen while we were asleep. Like someone was going to break in or the house was going to catch on fire and we would all die, you know, really traumatic things like that. I was way embarrassed to tell my mom that I was having these panic attacks. But after doing some medical research, my mom figured it out anyway, and concluded that anxiety was most likely the cause of the sleepwalking.
Wanting to ease my fears, and not really knowing what else to do, my mom taught me how to pray. Up until that point I don't think I had ever prayed before. Growing up in an inactive household, we just didn't pray as a family. Not at dinner, not before bed, not in the mornings. Never. But Mom knelt beside my bed one night and we said a prayer together. She prayed that we would all be protected while we slept and afterwards emphasized that Heavenly Father and Jesus would watch over me, so not to worry. This was such a huge thing for just a small girl. Every night after that I never forgot to say a prayer, whether it was with my mom or by myself. I had been taught that there was a God and that there was a Savior. A mustard seed had been planted. And I had so much faith in them. I had faith they would keep me safe. And not long after, my sleepwalking episodes stopped completely.

I Believe in Angels

That's all. I really believe in angels. Something surprisingly wonderful happened today.

The Best Car Accident of my Life

Last month Vessel and I were in a car accident. The day that it happened was Mike's and my anniversary. I hadn't left the house all week just because of the bitter cold and ice on the roads. I'm not a fan of snowy, icy driving conditions, so I try to avoid it when possible. But I had to go to the post office THAT day to send off a package for Christmas. The crazy thing is that I was driving carefully. I was going under the speed limit, I had both hands on the wheel, I wasn't on the phone or playing with the radio buttons or anything like that. I can't quite explain what happened. I was approaching a one way street (where the traffic goes pretty fast.) I saw the red light too late, slammed on my brakes and slid through the intersection. To be honest, I really can't explain why I didn't see the light. In fact, I don't really remember much of anything until the point I was about to ram into fast moving traffic. There's something strange that happens to a person (me) when they realize they are going to crash their car. Everything goes in slow motion. I just remember closing my eyes tight and tensing my body. And then hearing a gut wrenching "crunch" sound as my car collided with another car. After it happened, I opened my eyes and looked around. I saw pieces of blue all over the road. I saw chunks of metal and glass strewn about as the traffic continued to maneuver past us. The next thing I did was look back at Vessel. He seemed unharmed. In fact he didn't even seem scared. That was a relief, but I was still in a state of shock. I started sobbing. The person in the other car wasn't getting out of their vehicle. I started to freak out. What if I hurt them? I could not live with myself if that was the case. I called 911 and then I called Mike. Eventually I tried to get out of the car but I could not open the driver's side door. I had to climb to the passenger side to get out. I went over to the other car and the driver (a middle-aged lady) got out. I was relieved. I was bawling to her. I couldn't stop apologizing and asking her if she was okay. I really didn't care at that point if I was okay. But the thought of hurting someone else, especially my own kid, was torturing my brain. Luckily, the lady I hit was exceptionally nice about the whole incident. I was worried that some person was going to jump out of the car and start yelling at me telling me what an awful driver I was, if not a horrible person all together. But she was so sweet and very calm. And Mike wasn't mad at me either. He never once blamed anything on me or told me I was a bad driver or lost his temper. He was so kind to me and only cared that we were all okay. All of this helped a great deal.
Anyway, when the police arrived to the scene they tried to get my information but I guess I was crying so hard they couldn't really understand me. I remember one of the officers telling me to just breathe and calm down. I did calm down, but then I started thinking "What if I would've hurt or killed someone?" And the crying started all over again. After several minutes I got myself together and sat inside the police van answering questions. And that went on for awhile. Vessel was fascinated with the fire engine and the big tow truck that came to take our car away. Fortunately he wasn't traumatized by the accident. But all I could think of was "How could I do this?"
Okay, rewind a year earlier. It was October and Mike and I were in the market for a second car. With Mike and his job and school schedule and my crossing job and upcoming semester we felt like it was necessary. We started looking at used cars and some cheaper newer models. We ended up liking a new Mitsubishi Lancer ES we saw online. We went to a few dealerships, and none of them had the car we were looking for. But lo and behold, a dealership in Salt Lake had this blue beauty, a 2008 Mitsubishi Lancer GTS. Not the car we had originally set our sights on, but it was definitely an awesome car. Long story short, the Nazi car dealer convinced us to buy it. We thought it was a great idea for some reason (well at first, until the buyers remorse kicked in afterwards.) We calculated the payments and realized we could actually afford this new car. (At the time we both worked and had scholarships to pay for school, etc. etc.) So being young and silly, we got the car. And boy, was it NICE. Maybe a little too nice for my blood. I've never been into cars. I've always figured something that could get me from point A to point B would work just fine. And I don't consider myself a materialistic person. But this car was awesome. We loved it. And we took good care of it. And basically, it rocked.
Okay, now fast forward 8 months. Mike takes a job in Montana and away we go. We try to sell the car before moving in hopes of getting a different car for the Montana lifestyle. (you know, like a big beefy truck or something. :)) It didn't sell so we took it with us. We loved our car and loved driving it. But really, it wasn't made for Montana. And we soon realized that when winter came. The car had low profile tires on custom made 20" rims. It was not built to handle snow and ice. So for the last couple of months Mike and I were praying and fasting about our car situation. We had just bought our first house and with that payment along with other bills and unforeseen financial dilemmas, we thought it would be in our best interest to try to sell the car again. But with the economy the way it was, nobody was in the market to buy a car, especially not OUR car. We prayed hard that we'd be able to sell it or find a way to afford it or get another car that was better equipped for Montana weather. A few people called about the car and got our hopes up, but nothing ever came of it.
And then....the accident happened. Today I was just informed by the insurance company that they are considering it a total loss. Yup, I totaled our beautiful car. One might think that's a pretty crappy thing to happen. And it is. But here's the blessing in disguise. I think it was an answer to our prayers. I know it might sound crazy, but it has to be. With it considered a total loss, the insurance company will cut us a check for the amount of the car and we can pay it off and be relieved from our debt. And here's where things get even crazier. We had just gotten a new insurance policy. When I say "just got" I mean like a week prior to the accident. For the last 6 months of living in Montana we were still insured by a company in Utah, that unfortunately only covered Utah drivers. So if we had still been under their policy, they would not have covered our accident AT ALL. So we had barely gotten full coverage on the car for Montana. The other crazy thing is that the timing was so impeccable. I think about the accident and how it all played out. If I had been going one second faster than I was, the other lady would have T-boned our car and would've hit Vessel straight on. Heavenly Father was definitely looking out for us in that regard. Nobody got hurt. Didn't even have to go to the hospital. Looking at how messed up the car was, I'm pretty surprised nobody was injured. That fact opened my eyes to a lot of things. For the past few months before the accident I had been dealing with some serious depression issues. I'll spare the details, but I was pretty unhappy with myself as a person. The accident was kind of a wake up call for me. I say that because when I think about what could've happened, it sure could have been a lot worse. It made me realize how important life is. And how I needed to pull myself together and get out of the rut I was in. I know I must sound all dramatic, but I really do believe that. I think the accident was good in so many ways. It made me see that life could be a heck of a lot worse. If my experience wasn't divine intervention, I don't know what is. So I had this huge eye opener, and our car situation that we had been praying about was resolved. The power of prayer is amazing.
Right now I don't have a car to drive, but I'm not too upset about it. Sometimes it's hard being cooped up in the house all day. But then I have to remember how blessed we are. And by spring time Mike will be riding his bike to work and I can drive the car. And I suppose if I really wanted to I could get up early to drive Mike to work and then pick him up afterward. And maybe we'll get a cheap used car that we can afford soon. Who knows, there are a lot of options I guess.

We miss the blue car and it was great fun while it lasted. But we realize there are more important things in life than a car, even if that car is WAAAAY sweet. :)

Rest in pieces, Burple.