Yesterday, at church

Yesterday at church, I was watching all of the primary leaders as they helped to put on the primary program for sacrament meeting. They looked tired, but they had their hearts in what they were doing and they were committed to helping each child do their best and say their part. [As a disclaimer, I am hardly a shining example of my religion, but I do go. So don’t judge the church by me.]

I did however, reflect on several occasions—three to be exact—when I had been asked to serve in the nursery. It is one of the least coveted tasks for most people. It almost seems like a punishment. You miss two of the three meetings and babysit everyone else’s kids so that they can serve as teachers or attend their classes. 

The first time I was called, I was young and single and completely insulted that they would expect me to have to watch bratty kids. I wasn’t the one that decided to have kids! Although there was supposed to be a lesson and structured outline for the two hours, I skipped it. I didn’t want to bother with trying to teach kids that could hardly speak and were NOT my children. I didn’t pay attention to their names and still can’t remember any that were in there.

The second time, I was married and both my husband and I were put in Nursery. I had 23 month old twins and a nursing baby. Since my husband was primarily interested in disciplining, I tried to do a lesson, coloring, and singing time. But it never failed that I would have to leave to nurse and the twins would cling to me and want my attention.

The last time I was in Nursery, the twins were in Primary and Lane was in another Nursery. It was a very young ward. There were eight nurseries. Lane hated his class and started screaming and crying every Sunday as soon as we parked in the church parking lot. So, I was actually excited to take over Nursery. I pulled Lane from his class and just brought him into ours. This time, I really looked forward to being a Nursery teacher. I felt sympathy for these moms who were exhausted from their little children and babies and took my calling very seriously.

I read the introduction to the Nursery manual and one part in particular touched me. It said to love these children as Jesus does and know that this is their first experience with church. I had the stewardship to help them begin with a positive experience. 

I decided to make a poster board that said, “Nursery is our garden, let’s grow it!” I made foam flower pots and birds and a sun. Then put on detachable flowers, I took a picture of each child and put their name on a flower in foam letters. When they would come into class they would grab their flower and stick it in the garden. I also would buy cool nametag stickers so that after putting their flower in the garden they could put their nametag on.

I bought wicker chargers—the kind that are supposed to go under a dinner plate. They were all different colors and I would put them in a stack. When it was time for a lesson or singing time they each had to grab one and put it in a semi-circle around me. They would sit on their mat and listen or sing. 

Each week I would come up with a craft to go along with the lesson. Our church was from 11 to 2 so most of the kids were getting hungry during that time. I bought small utensil trays that were the perfect size for a lunch tray. They had four sides and rubber lining so they were easy to clean. I bought tiny sippy cups in orange, pink, blue, yellow and green—so each child had their own water throughout class. For lunch, I would make tiny sandwiches with crackers or goldfish and fresh fruit. They would each get their little tray and sippy cup and sit down at the little table. Each week, there was a brown paper bag on the table with their name on it. Every week it had a homemade treat and they would put their craft or activity inside of it, so they always left with a brown bag.

I looked forward to Nursery all week and would find myself thinking of new ideas for class. I loved those little kids. It was really the best two hours of my week. One woman, who brought the newsletter and lesson updates to our class for me, had a daughter in another nursery class who hated to go. She was a tiny little thing with a soft voice. She had been born with some damage to her vocal chords and even though she could speak, if she cried it was a tiny noise. 

She had told the other teachers that it was difficult to listen to her and about how they needed to listen to her closely because it was hard to hear what she was saying or if she was crying. She would often go in to check on Ellie and she would be curled up in the corner crying.  I told her to bring Ellie into our class. After only a few weeks, Ellie would come straight into class with a big smile on her face. She was partial to Brant and would run straight into his arms. Her mom came and thanked us with tears in her eyes. She was so grateful. As a mom, this time, I totally got it.

By the end of the year, the kids would graduate to primary. I was so sad and almost cried our last Sunday. Throughout the year, parent after parent would come in and thank us and tell us how much they appreciated how much effort we put into the class. Two different parents wrote us thank you notes and expressed gratitude for helping their children have such a great experience at church.

I felt humbled and so honored to serve them. They helped me to learn and grow and become a better person. I truly gave everything I had to make it the best that I could. They say that service is one of the ways to be happy.

I’m not writing this to show how great I was or how much I went above and beyond what every other teacher did. (Even though, let’s be honest I overkilled it.) The point is, that when I changed my attitude I changed lives. When I was humble to serve, I was blessed with insight. Everything that happened blossomed into something great. I think back to my earlier times of service, and am ashamed that I had such a bad attitude. It was the same calling, with the same tasks, but I don’t think I affected anyone in a positive way.

It’s made me think about my life and how much my attitude will affect the outcome of the future. And how much—me, one person--has the power to influence a lot of lives. Everyone has that opportunity whether it is at church, work, or at home. Our circle of influence can spread like a ripple in the ocean. The most important person it can influence is you. When you’re stronger, everyone else around is stronger, happier, and more successful. It’s an important time to reflect on this for me. Attitude IS everything.

Joyful Noise

Primary church program is tomorrow. All three kids have a little line that they go up to the pulpit and say. And, this proud mama hen watched all of her chicks say their lines with perfect execution. Bless their little hearts they had to sit through nearly an hour and a half practice in the chapel. At first all of the kids were excited, but towards the end every child was either extremely restless or about to fall asleep. I was about to fall asleep watching them.

Lane, in his usual stubbornness got bored and started reading a hymn book. I guess that was more interesting. When they were supposed to stand, a primary teacher was prodding him to stand up with the other kids. He was like, no thanks I'm fine sitting here reading hymns. He did finally stand up and started doing the crotch hold. I knew he had to go to the bathroom, but didn't want to walk up there and interrupt. Eventually, either a teacher noticed or he said something. He could not get away from the boredom fast enough. I was even relieved to get a break from the monotony.

Madison and Porter started draping themselves over the partition next to the pulpit. I kept signaling to them to sit up and smile. They started signing "No. Boring. Go. Hungry." They've learned enough sign to "speak" in short words. I hoped no one else knew what they were signing. So I started signing back, "Sit! Quiet. Stand. Sing." Madison in her passive aggressive way, started refusing to sing and put on a defiant frowning face.

The leaders kept encouraging the kids to sit up straight, look happy, don't be too loud, watch the chorister, and remember where you're supposed to stand. I know they were all probably nervous about the program not being a total disaster and trying to keep 50 kids under control is certainly not a job I would want any part of. I know they needed a practice, but it was so long I don't know how the kids did as well as they did.

A friend of mine was explaining his church to me and it sounded like so much fun. Church and fun almost seem like a paradox. I mean, boring doesn't have to equal righteousness, right? Imagine that. The preacher was giving his sermon from his Ipad. That can't be sacrilegious right? I mean it's just an updated version of writing notes on paper or a computer print out. The music was lively and they stood up several times to participate.

I'm not suggesting church turns into a party; I understand that reverence is an important element of religion, but I'm wondering if there isn't some happy medium that could be reached. They are getting a little more progressive. Just in my lifetime they've changed the three meetings per week to just one on Sunday. And I remember in the 70's we used to go to church in the morning; go home; and come back later in the day. They said they changed it because gas prices were getting too high and didn't want everyone spending their money on extra travel to and from church. Imagine that--78 cents was so unreasonable.

I think it could be time for some modern innovation that wouldn't take away from the core principles of the church. In the last couple of decades Blacks have been able to hold the priesthood and in a revolutionary move, missionaries can now serve at a younger age.

I have this really great idea. I figure if Mitt Romney becomes President maybe he could use his political influence to change up the church routine a little. He could appoint Glady's Knight (also a Mormon) to head up the revolution. She is very gospel oriented and I believe she could liven things up while still retaining reverence and R-E-S-P-E-C-T! (Okay, so that was Aretha Franklin who is not Mormon, but you know what I mean.) David Archuleta (former Idol finalist AND Mormon) could be on the committee. And why not let Donnie and Marie help out too. They have a big Mormon family so they could enlist all of the brothers, sons, daughters, grandkids, etc. to introduce the idea to each ward. Or maybe stake conferences would be more efficient. It could be like a Mormon tour, "Mormons really can be fun."

This is like the best idea I've had all day! Fun and church could become a synonym instead of an antonym. I hope somebody famous (with influence) is reading this, or maybe just a General Authority.

On an ADD and unrelated note...do you wonder how weird General Authority sounds to non-members. They're probably wondering why we have appointed men who are authorities on general matters.

I'm a single mom, with three kids...

...almost 42 years old, I can only afford a studio apartment, and have a poverty-level job. (Oh yes, Franklin I'm going there.) That was my go-to line to emit sympathy from anyone that would give it. I'm not above pity.

Today, I was leaving Target with my three kids and my niece. (Meeting the ex for drop-off and pick-up of the kids.) A grand total of two 6 yr olds and two 4 yr olds. I'm maneuvering through the parking lot with my little cluster of chicks trying to keep them out of the road and still MOVING. This woman comes up to us with her arm around two kids. And then she says, "I'm a single mom with two kids..." I'm like, no that's MY line. Then she goes on to say how any money would help. Not to be judgmental but her kids were old enough to look embarrassed that their mom was lying to strangers to get drug money.

I was like, "Lady, I'm a single mom with FOUR kids! (so I claimed my niece, not like I'm actually going to do that on my taxes.) I am broke and don't have a dime.  Since you've already been collecting money all afternoon, maybe you could help a broke mama with four kids out!" All of a sudden she didn't have any money either. We were starting to have a little too much in common and I left before she ask if we could be facebook friends. It's good to know that panhandling doesn't really pay much more than my job. If I would have only thought to ask for money every time I used that line maybe I wouldn't have to work anymore. Why do all of the good ideas come after it's too late!

I choose...

Have you ever noticed that choices you are anguishing over don't seem to be hard decisions for other people on the outside looking in? I guess it's because whatever the dilemma--it's not a challenge for them. It's debilitating to realize this is an area that you haven't made good choices in the past and the road it leads you down isn't always the best. But when you haven't been able to make up for your incompetency, you still are handicapped about making good, healthy choices.

I guess no matter how old we all get, we still have those areas that we need to work on. I have a best friend that always tries to steer me in the right direction--because she's really good at the area I am weak in. But sometimes I don't relate to what she's saying. I don't get why what I'm doing may not be the best way. Wow! How did I get to be 41 (for ten more days) and not get some things that are simple for everyone else.

I made a choice. I don't know if it's the right one, but I'm sticking with it. I'm nervous about it. Some things I like to ignore and then let life choose me. But life is getting shorter not longer. So I guess I have to try to grow up and not act like a whimsical 14 year old. I might be growing up...just kidding.

Super duper dimple cute

I love all of my children equally. They are each so special in their own way. But Lane seems to steal my heart so often with his overwhelming cuteness. Monday's are especially special. It's my day off from work and we take the twins to first grade in the morning and then have the rest of the day together. Sometimes we run errands or go grocery shopping. And sometimes I take him to the Burger King that's within walking distance of my apartment so he can play. But we always have one-on-one time and that's what is so special to me. Today we went grocery shopping, then to Blockbuster because he loves the Spy Kids series. We have 1 and 2 at home, but he's been begging to see Spy Kids 3. Which he actually has already seen, but we don't have at home.

We got it and he begged me for cuddle time. The one thing he only does when no one else is around. He basically likes me to hold him and wrap us both in blankets while we either talk or watch movies, TV, etc. He always tells me cuddle time is his favorite time. For anyone who knows me, lying in bed doing nothing is like pure torture. I can't hold still and am always wanting to get something done as I feel it's a waste of time to lie in bed. But my sweet little angel boy can talk me into anything.

He is fascinated by flowers and always picks them for me anytime he sees one. He says these are for you Mom! He told me that one time he had a dream that he was with me and we were in the most beautiful garden of flowers he had ever seen. He loved it. I said, "We weren't in Heaven were we?" He said no, just a place with a lot of beautiful flowers. I told him we were going to the grocery store, but he wanted go to the grocery store by grandma's house. I explained that Smith's was Smith's and we were headed to one by my house. He insisted on Grandma's Smith's. But, I explained we were already by ours and wanted to know why he wanted to go there. He said, "They have the most beautiful flowers and flowers remind me of you."

Unfortunately, we were too close to my Smith's and went there. We got out of the car and he said, "Do you notice they don't have any flowers here. That's why I like the other one." He's so adorable. When we got home and we were having cuddle time and watching Spy Kids 3 together, he said, "How much do you love me, Mom?" I said, "I love you more than anything else in this whole world. If a truck were going to hit you I would push you out of the way to save you." He said, "Would you die, Mom?" I said, "Yes, but I would give my life for yours." He said, "I wouldn't do that for you, but I do love you more than anything else in this whole world!"

I told him that the had the the cutest dimples I had ever seen. He said, I know Mom. I said do you even know what dimples are? He said, no, but I know I'm cute cause you always tell me I am. He's so excited that I have changed my last name to Lane. He likes to pull my wallet out and read my name. He says we're both the Lanes in the family.

Life can be a challenge, but days and moments like this make everything you have worth fighting for. God blesses me with angels, and I'm proud they are my children who inspire me to be better and to fight for the best I can offer them. I'm thankful for my angels.

The Doctor Is In

"Porter, what is up with you lately? You seem to be misbehaving a lot," I commented.

 "No, I'm not!"

"Then why are you so mean and you keep name calling and teasing? That's not like you. You are usually my sweetest, nicest child."

"I don't know," he responded.

"I think I need to get you to a therapist," I teased.

"What's a therapist?" he asked.

"Someone who figures out how you're feeling and why you are behaving the way you are."

 "That sounds boring," he said.

"I actually already got you one and she turned into a fly and she's been following you around."

"No wonder there's always a fly in my classroom!" he exclaimed.

"Yep, that's her and she's already told me a lot of things about you."

"What! What did she say?"

"She said you have not been getting enough attention from me lately and that's why you're acting out. And, she said that you used to be the 'Mama's Boy' but Lane has edged his way into your spot.. So you feel like I like him more. And Madison and I have the girl thing going, so you feel a little left out. You're just trying to get me to notice you more too."

"She told you that?"

"Yep. What do you think? Is she right or should I fire her?"

"Um, yea...kinda."

"Is that how you feel?"

"Well Lane does get all of the attention and I don't think you like me as much."

"That's why she told me I need to show you more how much I already love you."

"She's really not a fly?" he questioned.

"No she's not and I'm really your therapist. I suspected that's what you were feeling."

"But how did you know that?"

"Cause mom's are secretly great therapists for their kids and they know them more than anyone else does. I will always know more than you think! Now go to bed! It's 45 minutes past your bedtime."

"Will you cuddle with me?"

"Of course, but I might turn into a fly."

Positively positive

One of my best, best, best friends in the whole world called me today. He is one of the most positive, motivational people I know. No matter what happens in life, he's got a smile on his face and a kind word. We were discussing how many people have been affected by the economy and how many people we know (including ourselves) are making less now than we were 15 to 20 years ago.

There have been a lot of lessons to learn out of this hardship. Some people are resilient; some people get depressed; and others find opportunity and make lemons out of lemonade. I'm not going to lie, I'm down more than I have ever been in my life. But each day keeps getting better and better. There are so many cliche things said about a positive mental attitude, fake it til you make it, or fail forward. But they really are true. Some of my personal heroes in life have gone through the most devastating experiences a parent could go through and yet remained happy, joyful, and giving. We are not really tested until we see who were are in really hard times. It's a reminder to me to gauge my own attitude during life's hardships.

"What lies before us, and what lies behind us, are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." --Oliver Wendell Holmes

Moses' Couch

Death is such a hard part of life. As adults it is so hard to understand. It's no wonder children are just as confused. Watching my brother and his wife lose their sweet little angel to cancer at age 3 was and still is one of the most devastating life experiences I have ever had. I can't imagine how they have lived through it.

When an old friend of mine approached me about helping him publish a children's book, I was really excited to help him. It's a beautifully written story about a young boy who loses his mother. The whole intent of the book is to help children gain a better understanding of death and what happens when we lose someone. As he has written it, I have read it to my children. Surprisingly, they sit quiet and listen intently. They're really into the story. And little Madi, bless her heart, said, "Mom I don't understand what happens when people die either. When Ari (my niece) died I was so sad. I really miss her and sometimes I cry at night because I miss her a lot."

It's a privilege to be a part of this and I'm looking forward to the book being finished. Here's an excerpt:

"He looked up into the sky and saw what his Mommy called God’s Flashlight. It was one of those beams of light that comes through the dark clouds. She had told him when somebody in Heaven is looking for you they turn on their flashlight and look down. People on earth think it looks like a beam of sunlight coming through the clouds, but really it’s God’s flashlight. He wondered if it was his Mommy looking for him. He took his little toy flashlight he used to trick the cat with and shined it back as if to say here I am, please just come back mommy. Then the strangest thing happened. The beam of light coming from the sky got even brighter as if it was just pointed right at him. It was almost blinding and then all at once it was gone. He knew his Mom had found him. That was the first time he felt a little bit happy since the day she left."

(You have to get further into the book to see why it's titled "Moses' Couch.")

October weather in Vegas

Can I tell you how elated I am that its only going to be in the 90s this week. Yeah! I really don't mind the heat when I have car air conditioning, but this summer was hot, hot, hot. This winter will be save, save, save for a new compressor.

Okay, he's that into me

Postcript to yesterday's post. Remember what I said about regretting my text today? Yeah...well the gist of the text was you don't like me anymore because you didn't want me to help you. And since you don't like me anymore I don't think we should see each other anymore. Thanks, it was a lot of fun, but I'm done peace out.

It really sounded a lot better than that and made perfect sense yesterday. ...but very stupid sounding when I had to explain to a grown man, who was completely confused about what I was trying to say. Bottom line, I told him I felt like we were disconnecting and things weren't the same and I figured he was wanting to end things anyway. I also mentioned that I didn't feel like we were even friends anymore.

After he got done looking at me like I was a moron, he said it really hurt to hear me say we weren't friends because he considered us to be very close friends and how much he likes to be with me. So then I felt dumb. He explained how busy he's been lately--which is true--a couple of major things he's had to deal with. And last night, he didn't really want my help because there was a football game on. He made me "un-dump" him. Did I mention I felt dumb?

Sometimes stuff in a text doesn't sound as smart when you read it out loud. So we're friends again, with a promise we'll do more friend stuff once his other stuff is taken care of. Guess I'm not much better at relationships then I was 20 years ago. I could use some improvement in the communication department.

Say My Name, say my name

It's taken a couple of months, but I finally completed the last step to getting my name changed back to Elizabeth Lane. It's the final step to feeling like I got myself back completely. Interesting how much a name can mean and how shedding a man's last name feels empowering. All symbolic but freedom nonetheless.

I couldn't believe the effort it took. In order to change my drivers license I had to have a copy of the divorce decree with the judges approval to restore my name back to it's original. The social security office was a little harder. Makes me wonder how people who are not U.S. citizens can get them so easily. They wouldn't accept a copy of my divorce decree even though I had a state issued drivers license with my name and photo on it. I also had my birth certificate with my name on it. Subsequently, I had to go to the Family Court and pay $10 to just for an official stamp on my divorce decree. And, had to make a second trip to wait in line at the social security office. But now I'm back!

He's just not that into me

Relationships are a new adventure. You know how you always say, I wish I knew what I know now when I was a teenager, dating, and figuring boys out. When you get divorced, you're single and you have the "know then what you know now." But it's still not easy and walking the talk can be hard.

I've been dating this guy and we went through the happy to be with you all the time stage...blah, blah, blah. Today he turned me down to come and help him with something he really needs help with. It hurt my feelings because it was a really lame excuse. He said he was a giver, not a taker--thus the decline. Really? It's been dwindling; I've seen it coming. The excitement has been waning. You know that stage when you start getting back to what you were before him? The thing is, I think I was a lot more into him then he was into me. So when he turned me down, I decided to just cut the ties. A little brash you think? I think I was just reading what he was writing on the wall. I gave him--well text him the "I think we should be friends."

Maybe I'm lame. Maybe the one thing I learned was to quit before you get fired. Maybe I'll regret my "hasta lluego" text tomorrow. But I really think I just got a jump start on the inevitable, because he's really not that into me.

Knock, knock, who's there?

I have trouble sleeping. I'm told it's my age, but like to believe it's something else. I used to sleep like a rock as a teenager. I could sleep on a hard floor--and that's no lie. But now, every couple of hours I tend to gain consciousness even if only momentarily.

I have prescription sleep pills that work great, but I hesitate to use them. If I take one and am undisturbed, it's a beautiful thing. But, if someone wakes me--or calls me in the case of a couple of days ago--I will do incredible things and can't remember most of it. I had a 30 minute conversation with a friend. I can barely remember what was said, but apparently I was going to cash a $30 check and drive to St. George. I also woke up and found three different text conversations going around the exact same time the night before. My thumbs must have been flying. They were actually highly intelligent and well-written. I have to say some of my ideas were brilliant. I just can't remember texting. But that's a whole other post.

Back to me and my sleep problem. I went to bed last night and refused to take a pill. I didn't want a repeat of the night before, and as I always try to do I convince myself that I'm not in need of medication. Of course, I went to sleep around 7:30--a friend called. Shortly after that--another friend called. Finally, at 10 pm I drifted off to sleep. (I get up at 4:00 a.m. lest you think I am an old lady.)

Around 1:53 a.m. I heard a loud, crying, whining, heavy breathing sound from outside. I thought who the "h" is outside right now and what are they doing. I groaned and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Not much later, I heard a POUNDING on my door. I jumped up and peeked out the window. I could see someone there, but wasn't sure who it was. I don't know what I was really thinking other than, that if someone knocks on your door you answer it.

This woman is standing at the door tweaking out bad. Fumbling through her purse looking for a paper. She asks me where Topeka is. At this point, I had three voices talking in my head. My first was my dad who always reached out to help a stranger no matter what. I felt a sliver of compassion momentarily. The second was my co-workers who are black, familiar with the area, and city savvy. They've told me I live in prostitute, drug-ridden neighborhood. I really thought everyone around here was just friendly and they were neighborhood street greeters. You know, like at Walmart. Those people just stand in the same place and say hi to everyone that walks by and they're not drug dealers or prostitutes. Hmmm...or, are they?

Anyway, my last voice was my own. It was saying--actually screaming, "You stupid lady! Don't you know I can't sleep and you just woke me up!" I didn't say that out loud. I informed her there was no Topeka here and I didn't know who Topeka was. She said, "I've got her name. I've got it right here." She was still rifling through her purse. I said, "It doesn't matter if you have her name on a piece of paper or not, I still don't know who she is!" I was starting to get irritated. "Well, can you help me find her?" Okay, I couldn't take it anymore. I said sternly, "Look lady! It's 2 o'clock in the morning and I'm in my underwear. I'm not going out to help you find somebody named Topeka. I don't know her. In fact, I don't know anyone who lives here. I couldn't even identify my neighbors by face."

Exasperation. But knew my sternness would impress upon her the need to go away. I really wasn't without compassion, it just seemed clear that she was being affected by some sort of chemical. And sadly, nowadays strangers can prove to be very dangerous. Plus, she woke me up. Shen the begged to come in and take a shower. Then, I thought things were weird and knew I was not letting her in my house. For all I know she had a knife in her purse--and I wanted my last two hours of sleep. I don't remember what I said before I slammed the door. I stomped back to bed and hoped for more sleep.

And then....the wailing and whining started again. I heard her scream, "Please God! I can't do this anymore. Won't someone help me. I can't take it anymore." Geez, I thought she's probably in bad shape--and really high. Because I'm not co-dependent anymore I didn't want to go and save her, so I rolled over and covered my head with a pillow. But not before I heard a loud knocking and banging--on my neighbors door.

P.S. My street smart friends at work who are black--all three of them--told me never to answer my door at 2 o'clock in the morning ever again. Understood boys. Eventually when I get as streetwise as they are they might stop calling me, "Utah."

3.5 days

One of the worst things--actually I take that back--THE worst thing about getting divorced is joint custody. You're kids spend half the week (3.5 days) with you and half with Dad. I am so glad they are doing so well. They're great kids and well-adjusted. I contribute alot of that to the fact that the three of them are so close. The twins are 6 and Lane is 4. They have their very own family nucleus and everything else is an extension of that.

Last night I had to take them back. Nothing can break your heart more than feeling like you don't get to be a real mom and raise your kids every day. And trying to explain to them why you can't buy them this, go there, and get that, or have air conditioning in your car. Especially when Dad lives in a big house with a pool, buys them the majority of their stuff, and the big one--he has air conditioning in his car. (Of course it's his girlfriends, but they see it as Dad's place nonetheless.) It's tough.

Every minute of pain I have, I try so hard to let it motivate and drive me to get to a better place. I have had great jobs and made a good income before and know I can do it again! Part of being a  mom--and I know this is true for almost every mom--is the tenacity and perseverance you have fighting for your kids. I've never in my life had something that has driven me so much.

Making It Work

Since I failed to write much during my six months of my marriage finally detoriating and ending in divorce, I guess I should catch up on where I'm at now. Prior to making the move to Las Vegas last April, we were living in St. George. I had a good job. We lived in a 3 bedroom home with a two car garage and a community pool. I had three siblings living in town and many, many friends.

We moved to Vegas so Brant could get his job back at ob Yesco. With the economy down, I struggled to find a decent job. I was hired at Blockbuster at an entry level. Since then, I have still been applying for jobs and am lucky if I get an interview. Of course, following that someone else is hired. A customer at Blockbuster offered me a job at his travel agency. It's a big company and has three worldwide call centers. Although more than Blockbuster, it's still only $23,000 a year. I can't believe that's all I'm making. It's been almost twenty years since I made that wage. But considering others have no job, I'm grateful.

I moved into a studio apartment. I've had people say why do you have such a small place? Don't you have three kids. Yes, I do. But it's all I can afford right now. So for the 3.5 days a week I have my kids, we get to be around each other alot! I can say we are very close. I do try to plan alot of activities outdoors--which is good for activity and keeps us out of the cramped space. The other bummer--have to use a shared laundry room. Makes me so grateful for having a washer and dryer in my house. The kids are really good sports about it and don't complain. They always tell me they want their own house with their bedrooms again. I tell them that's my dream too.