the me they see

So, Jim & I were talking to a lady on Sunday.  We know her decently well on a see-you-every-Sunday, work-with-you-in-Nursery basis.  During the conversation, she turned to him, pointed to me and said, “Is she always this cheerful on Sundays?”  We looked at each other, quizzically, equally unable to respond.  Then we both chuckled, realizing there was no sarcasm and all serious in her query.  Jim answered with an all-too-quick “No.”

I have been accused of being smart, selfish, creative, thoughtless, aloof, helpful...but never cheerful.  Please don't get me wrong.  I want to be cheerful, but that brand of effusive doesn’t quite fit me.  Yet, to this person who has seen me dozens of times, I AM “that cheerful lady at church”. 

I wonder…what’s behind the plastered smiles of the ones I’ve labeled “happy” or “lucky” or “smart”…and the ever-envied, all-containing category of “together”.    

We define ourselves in specific terms that are intricately interwoven with childhood, experience, sorrows, joys & pain.  But the package we actually present might be something unrecognizable.  Oh no, that can’t be me. 

I remember the first time someone called me “elegant”. 

“No, wait, I’m the clumsy one.” 

A simple thank you would have sufficed, but the word was far too foreign for me to wear. 

But perhaps I am more elegant than I think, and perhaps I’m even cheerful.  A fight with my psyche might let me claim them both…eventually.  And while I’m at it, I just might throw a few punches for Tidy and Thrifty.  Jim would really laugh at those.

5:15 a.m. BodyPump

I was there.

where, oh where has my willpower gone?

In August I joined a gym.  I joined with multiple 10’s of pounds to lose and renewed conviction to get it done.  I love my gym.  I even – and this will amaze people who know me - had gym friends.  I’ve never been a group-goer of any kind, but loved going to classes with these ladies.  I discovered the joy of weights.  All work out energy in my pre-children life was dedicated to cardio, oh to have my own elliptical!  I would go to the gym with a good book and stay on the elliptical for over an hour.  But getting on an elliptical after three years and two children was a shock.  Fatigue set in after five minutes (after 1 ½ if I’m entirely honest)…but I persevered for 13 ½.  And died.  Not much of a workout, I know, but all that I could do at that point.  So I switched gears and discovered the euphoria that comes with building muscle.  I honestly imagined that all the hefting of extremely heavy children (21 lbs at 3 months X 2) had made me a strong woman.  Oh was I wrong.  I quickly discovered my true weakling status.  My legs probably have normal strength, but my arms fall far below.  And I’m not sure any muscle is left in what was once my stomach.

    

I kept up the routine through September & October (working up to 45 minutes on my bike!), but November undid me.  Who says a habit is made in 90 days?  My family came for Thanksgiving…and suddenly it’s two months later and I feel weak & flabby. 

January 1^st was a Monday and New Year’s Day, but it would be far too cliché to start up again on New Years Day, or a Monday for that matter.  So I waited.  A perfect 5:15 BodyPump class was starting today, but Jim tells me last minute he has an early meeting in Phoenix.  Oh, darn.  So I wait.  And I discover that there are hundreds of reasons not to work out.  My back hurts, I’m stuffed up, my boys are full of attitude, my house is a disaster, I’m tired, I can’t wake up early, I can’t go too late.  Yes, there are hundreds of reasons not to work out. 

My single reason to work out shrinks in comparison – I hate feeling fat.

Too bad that one reason is sometimes all-consuming.  I fixate & fixate and need to decide to either be happy chubby or totally commit to lose my excuses & my chub.  Sounds easy, but it isn’t.  What I don’t want is to spend my entire life in this battle of dissatisfaction.  Accept it or change it. 

My lost willpower must be resurrected, because I definitely prefer the latter option.  So…I’m going to leave my computer right now & ride my stationary bike.  I’ll let you know how long I last. 

Update on Tuesday, January 9, 2007 at 04:11PM by Amy

26 minutes...a start.  I actually could have gone longer, but my boys were beating each other in my absence.  Ah, the excuses continue...

a sniffle and a sigh

Today I am sad.  My 27 three-year-old’s have left me for Sunbeams.  My sad has surprised me somewhat, but it’s been sneaking up slyly over the past two months.  Anyone who knows me has heard me complain about the chaos that is my nursery calling.  We have 65 littles, with mostly no-show teachers, and I’m heading up the whole bunch (with my uncalled but extraordinarily helpful Jim).  Every Sunday leaves me ragged, and more than I’ll admit to have left me in tears.  So, when November came, I rejoiced at the relief on the horizon – January 7^th – yes, the day when 65 would magically turn to 38.  Nine more Sundays.  I can do it.  Remember making paper chains to count down to an especially awaited moment?  I think JoDee had one when Shane was on his mission, but I can’t imagine it was days…I wonder.  Well, I thought of taping nine rings into a freedom chain of my own.  While I do love Shane, this would be better than waiting for any missionary I ever knew.  Nine weeks to better Sundays. 

Then came the start of sad.  Out of town Thanksgiving weekend, I returned the next Sunday.  We sat behind the McNamara’s.  Little Tyler turned around, “Sista Scott, Sista Scott.”  Insistent.  “Sista Scott, I missed you last time.”  And later, more insistence. “Sista Scott, I’m so happy you are back.”  I pictured the grinch’s heart in the cartoon, growing, his eyes softening.  My grinchy nursery heart grew at least two sizes.  Then Whitney (who does not talk & hardly makes eye contact) came up to me in class with a stunning “Sister Scott”.  One more size, for sure.  5 weeks to go & my enlarged heart begins to ache. 

And through December I start to notice something.  These children look for me.  They wave, they smile, they yell, they beam.  In sacrament meeting I exchange very few pleasantries with adults, but I always meet little eyes & smiles that have searched me out…looking for Brother & Sister Scott.  I know these people & they know me.  I know not to talk to Porter when he’s tired.  I know that Jordan will wash her hands for 20 minutes straight if you forget to check the little bathroom.  I know that Hunter loves dinosaurs & laughs when you call him Buzz Lightyear.  I know that Rebecca is tickled by anything silly.  I know that Tyler can be calmed if you hold a hand on his back.  I know that Mackenzie wants to read story after story.  I know that Emma understands far more than any 3-year-old I’ve met.  I know that Claire has a crush on Karsen.  I know that Karsen is a little scared of primary.  “Will there be big boys & girls there?”  They’re not that big.  “Will they be wearing big shirts?”  The shirts aren't that big, either.  His lip quivered when we broke the news last Sunday.  Mine does now.  How do you tell them this is the end of all-you-can-eat snack time, bubbles, toys?  Big shirts & big chairs next week and for life.

When I took them to visit Primary last week, they sat amazingly still.  They never did that for my lessons…I often gave up entirely.  But perhaps they’re ready now.  We got back to nursery, ate snacks & played with toys.  I told them to enjoy because there’s simply no turning back.  They don’t understand.  I never understand what moments mean until they disappear.  But I do understand that I’ll have to wait months before the youngers give me melting “Sista Scott”’s.  Perhaps my 27 will still grant me greetings in the hall…and smiles in the parking lot…and frantic waves in the chapel.  I hope. 

And my own Aidan will be leaving me as well.  I know it’s not like he’s starting school or leaving home, or anything remotely close, but this is one small step to being more his own & less mine.  Or sometimes that is how it seems.  Sunbeam today, baptism tomorrow, passing the Sacrament next week, missionary next month.  Ridiculous, I realize, but I’ve been around long enough to know that’s how it seems when you look back.  I’ve never had my own little person do the growing & moving on. 

With our Sunday separation, we can start the “what did you learn today?” conversations at dinner.  And I know he’ll ask me in return.  He’s just that type.  Well, today I’ll say that I learned that the NOW is good, to be relished and rejoiced.  I know I’ll forget that tomorrow.  But perhaps I’ll sometimes see our little Sunbeams scattered all over and remember briefly.  I hope that I enjoy their successors half as much.  I vow to get to know them faster.  I don't want to blink and find them gone.   

Update on Monday, January 8, 2007 at 12:31PM by Amy

I wanted to post the little gifts I made for our would-be Sunbeams, but forgot. 

 

Jim punched holes all night Saturday - thank you!!  I've been cutting & laminating for days (honestly couldn't live without my little home laminator).  Still need to wrap & deliver, but I loved how they turned out.  

 

I took the words to Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam, and made a little book that has a phrase on each page, ending with a picture of the child.

 

These pics aren't the greatest, but they give the general idea. 

tears

My aunt posted this quote in a comment, but I think it needs its own entry. 

 "There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than 10,000 tongues.
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief,
of deep contrition and of unspeakable love."
Washington Irving