Mr. Wicke Makes His Debut

Tah Dah! It has happened! Mr. Wicke has entered the blogosphere. I know! I couldn't have guessed it would happen either; he is such a private person and slow to join any fad or fashion. He's a man that likes to make his own way in the world I suppose, but he's obviously got something to say. I can't wait to see what it is. One thing I know, it will never be dull. Besides being the love of my life, the man is deep, quirky, witty, and intelligent. If that combination intrigues you like it does me, click HERE.

P.S. The views and opinions of said blog are solely those of the writer. His wife can not be held accountable for odd, strange, or puzzling posts. I will, though, happily take credit for anything witty or profound. (Isn't that how it is supposed to work in a marriage?)

Fall Festival

Mickey was great. Flu and vomiting in car was not.

This week my focus is on the

FALL FESTIVAL

so there may not be much writing going on. However, if you live in the Villages of Eastridge, plan on stopping by the main park at 9am for a

FREE PANCAKE BREAKFAST.

If you're a runner, enter the

5K FUN RUN/WALK

There will be NO REGISTRATION FEE and you get a free t-shirt.

Come climb the

ROCK WALL

or skateboard the half-pipe.

Or if you want to sell items or promote your business to people in the area, call me to reserve a spot in the

MARKETPLACE.

Again, it's free! Did I mention that?

There may or may not be carnival games. We'll see how much of a magic trick we can pull off this week. But like I told Erin, it's free. If people want to complain, I'll sign 'em up to help next year!

And, as a side note, if you ever want to volunteer, call me. Please.

Disneyland

We're spending the day with this guy, aunts, uncles, and cousins. See you Monday!

Food for Thought

While writing my post yesterday, I was reminded of an article I read months ago and have thought of often since. The story of a father and his son is particularly poignant, I think, because the idea that we are responsible to our children rather than responsible for our children is an important paradigm shift in how I raise, respond, and nurture my amazing kiddos. With that new understanding, I can parent without my own ego, baggage, or stuff getting in the way. I allow them to become the person God envisions, not the person I want them to be, and isn't that so much better?

So, for today, here's a little food for thought. Enjoy!

“One definition of good mental health is the ability to give up control—to trust God, ourselves, and others—and to know that things will work out,” observes Dr. Clyde Parker, clinical director of a counseling and therapy center at McKay-Dee Hospital in Ogden, Utah. Giving up control over other people may seem contrary to our responsibility to help others find salvation. But Dr. Parker explains that we need to see ourselves as being responsible to other people, not responsible for them. “Although we may be our brother’s keeper,” he says, “our brother still has responsibility for his own life.”

Thus, we accomplish most in our relationships when we focus more on what we can control—our own attitudes and behavior—and less on what we can’t control—the attitudes and behavior of the other person. We do the most good for our friends, spouses, and children when we concentrate less on controlling them and more on being available to them.

Letting go of the belief that we can control another person’s behavior does not mean that we cease to care about that person. Instead, it means that we trust that the Lord loves that person and knows better than we do how to help him. Our task then becomes being open to the Spirit’s promptings in our relationships.

One father tells of a time when he was alarmed that his son did not seem to take his studies seriously enough. One day, while reading his son’s patriarchal blessing, he felt an impression from the Spirit: “It’s all right. Your fears about making your son a good student are getting in the way of your relationship with him and his progress. He was first my son; his heart is good. He is in my hands. Let go.”

“Since that experience,” says the father, “I have felt more interested in my son’s life and more available to him than I was before because I am not constantly worried, checking to see whether he is meeting some standard. I still set guidelines for him, but I also watch—amazed—to see the marvelous person he is becoming.”

We also have more energy for doing good when we spend less time worrying about circumstances we can’t control or fearing the difficulties of life. Trusting in the Lord and his purposes frees us of many of the anxieties that can depress and paralyze us.

As the Apostle Paul promises: “Be careful [in the Greek, this means, ‘Be unduly concerned’] for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

“And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philip. 4:6–7.)

As we leave our burdens of worry and fear with a trusted Father, we can feel peace even in times of uncertainty.

Written my Jan Underwood Pinborough for the Sept. 1990 Ensign. For the whole article go here.

Talking to the Manager

At the end of Family Home Torture--Evening! I mean Evening...oops. Like I said, at the end of Family Home Evening, we had family prayer before tucking the children into bed. When Mr. Wicke finished the prayer, Logan didn't move. Sometimes she likes to fake like she is asleep so that she gets carried up to bed. (Who can blame her? Sometimes I do it, too.) But that night I was not in the mood. "Logan. Come on. I know you aren't sleeping."

She lifted her head from the couch. "He wasn't done talking to me." A few weeks back, Mr. Wicke told her that it is always a good idea to spend quiet time listening after a prayer. Just in case you feel some answer come. "He was just in the middle."

"Oh, sorry." The whole thing made me smile. I have no idea what He was saying, but I'm glad they have that kind of relationship. Boy, am I glad. 'Cause there is one thing I know: She belonged to Him before she belonged to me, and as long as He is holding her hand, we're going to be okay.

Just Another Day in the Office

There is a lot involved in being a mom. I think it may be the only job where the training program lasts as long as the employment. Weeks ago Logan brought home from school coupons for the circus. Originally she was given one, but she asked the teacher for 3 more for her whole family. Apparently, she really wanted to go to the circus, and so like every good parent, we promised her that we would go on the allotted weekend. The promise was made before we realized, weeks later, that Mr. Wicke would be gone on an overnight campout with the young men. Even I, who can actually read the family calendar, somehow blocked that little tidbit out. Come Friday morning over breakfast I said, "We need to make a plan about what time we will be leaving for the circus tonight."

"Are you going to do that by yourself?" Thomas asked with some admiration...or maybe it was trepidation. I can't be sure.

"Myself? What do you mean?"

"Uh, I've got that campout tonight."

"Oh...that's right. Ugh. I don't want to go without you!"

"But, but--I really want to go to the circus!" Logan interjected, tears beginning to well up.

I locked eyes with Mr. Wicke. It was clear I was going to have to cowgirl up. "Of course we're going. No problem..." But inside I was shaking. Sometimes a person can not imagine all the things that could go wrong on a family outing. Then again, sometimes trying to will scare the dickens out of you. But being a mom means sucking it up and facing the fear. Being a mom means making your kids' dreams come true. So, I was taking the kids to the circus, Mr. Wicke or no.

And you know what? It went off without a hitch. The kids were amazingly good. They didn't even throw a fit when I said no to the $8.00 elephant rides. The circus, while no Barnum and Bailey's, still worked its magic, and we loved every minute of it. It wasn't until we got back in the car that I was educated in what else being a mom means.

No sooner had we wound into all the exiting traffic when Griffin announced, "I have to go pee pee!" There was no stopping, and he has no control, so I handed him an empty water bottle with specific instruction to get his little thingy INSIDE the bottle. (Specifics are very important I have discovered...the hard way.) For a moment I thought all was well until I heard, "It got on my pee pee." Unfortunately he said it only as he was handing me the bottle because that's when I realized that something was dripping down the outside of it as well--AND I WAS HOLDING IT!!! IN MY HAND!!! And, as a side note, trying to drive.

"Sick! Griffin! Logan find me a--a--a---(Mind not functioning. Too obsessed with pee covered hands!) a--a napkin!!!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm covered in URINE!"

To which Logan calmly responded, "You shouldn't be so upset. That's just part of being a mom."

...Ah, of course. Good to know. I'll add that to the ever growing list.

Phoning Home

I call my mom a lot. Probably at least three times a week, and we talk for no less than 45 minutes. I think about calling her every day. For no particular reason. Just because I'm doing dishes and want to talk. But I don't because I'm careful with money. Well, at least I think about money...once in a while, and in deference to our phone bill, I try to practice some self control.

Much to Mr. Wicke's credit he has never commented on my phone calls to mom. It is a non-issue. He doesn't complain that I call her a lot, and I don't complain that he married me and took me far away from her. Yet another example of how Mr. Wicke and I were made for each other.

The funny thing about these phone calls, however, is that I'm not so good on the phone with anyone else. I never have been. I was not one of those teens that spent hours on the phone with friends, and I'm not one of those adult women, either. Just with my mom do I call to talk about nothing in particular.

And here's why: I never worry that she'd rather be doing something else. You see, I am unendingly interesting to my mother. Believe me, I am not delusional enough to think that anyone else on the planet feels the same way, but to Mom I am fascinating. If there was a tabloid magazine solely devoted to my non-celebrity, very average existence, she would be the only subscriber. Do you know what a gift it is to be loved like that?

I am unguarded with my mother because there are no strings attached. She was the person who loved me first, and she has, from that moment on, been on my side. There is a day, somewhere in the future, that I fear: The day when I can no longer call my mom on the phone. In that moment, I will lose my champion, my touchstone, my cheerleader, and my friend. I try not to think of it often, but knowing, perhaps, that that day will come is not so entirely bad. Perhaps that is why I call so often, just to say, "I love you, too."