I mentioned the other day about my repeating dream of speeding and breaks going out and not being able to stop in time, therefore ramming my car into something. Life is just going way too fast. But not where I want to go tonight.
I want to sit down on my Freudian lounge and analyze the dream of my mother running around with a butcher knife trying to chop my head off. Ok a little gory but really its not! My neighbor and one of my best friends growing up, Chris B.'s mom had a curio cabinet with old dolls in it. Some that were just the heads. I am guessing the cabinet is what triggered my nightmares, probably triggered the same ones of dolls coming to life trying to kill me...but that is another issue.
Earlier I had this dream all figured out...but all of a sudden it has slipped from my mind like a wet bar of soap in my hands.
My mom plays a huge roll in my life, well duh! Most moms do don't they, good or bad? My mom is wonderful. I love her, flaws and all, but she is mostly perfect to me, but that is because I am the favorite child, ask any of my siblings. I am the favorite. I feared so much of making a mistake growing up, and not being the perfect child. Part of that comes from being the middle child, trying to be the pleaser. Too, it has to do with the fact that I want everyone to like me. I think part of me was afraid that I could never please my mom, and the only way to have her pleased was to preserve me as just a head in a glass cabinet. Nah I just think the Benjamin's glass doll cemetery freaked me out.
I love my mom. And I think with every mother and daughter relationship comes some interesting baggage. I just wonder what kinds of things I am doing in raising my kids packing their baggage, and how much are the therapy bills going to be to unpack.
This morning, my computer was out of commission so I actually took time to read. I read a wonderful article by Pres. Gordon Hinkley on raising children. He mentioned that if people would spend more time worrying about how they are raising their kids, than they do worrying about how bad the world is, the world would be a happier place, well basically his words are much better than mine. But if we raise happy, good kind kids then the world will have good kind people. Right now there isn't much time being spent at home making happy, kind kids. I am trying, I really am.
I love being able to stay home with my kids, though lately I feel like I haven't been doing as great of a job as I should be doing. I guess there is always room for improvement isn't there?
Ok a pat on my back today, grant it this person only spent a few minutes with my kids, but true story:
Eric stayed home today with our sick little boys- Timmy had a fever of 101, and Greg Strep. So I took my sweet little girls to church with me. Surprisingly they weren't doing too bad during sacrament meeting (the mixed adult kid one hour 10 minute long meeting). I don't know but about half way through, Bethany was reading a book, well I like to call it performing her own opera. She can't just read a book she has to turn it into a full blown musical. Emily was yelling at her to give her back her book, and I am trying to quietly shhhh them. So I just pack them up and go into the Relief Society Room (another room with a speaker to hear whats going on in the sacrament room.) We get in there and there is a sister trying to nap, sorry Sister Alger. But I felt better about letting the girls kind of roam while I listened to the last speaker. Then another sister from church came in and started preparing for her class. My girls just stared fascinated with her, as she wrote scriptures on the chalk board. Then the sweet gal lets them doodle on the board, and she actually starts to draw for them. Sacrament is finally over (about fifteen minutes after we got into the room.) So Sister Taylor, said to me "you have the cutest kids and they are so well behaved. I know because I work in a daycare." So that made me feel really good, that my kids as totally out of control I felt they were, received a compliment on having great behavior.
Though why is it that as a mom, it seems my kids are the worst? Why do I giggle at someone else's child for doing the same thing, I want to ground my child for doing? Is it the emotional attachment? Who knows, I just know I am tired and have written way to much jibber, thats not even a word. Oh well, good night and thanks for making it this far!