The more I know, the more I don't know...

Daily Life

I believe every day there should be something the kids and/or I can count on and look forward to.  I do enjoy our traditions, and often pray that the kids will cooperate.  My kids do not obey my every word, and sometimes they won't listen at all.  Especially when they're stir crazy during these winter months.  Then, out of the blue, we'll have a really good day when they will surprise me with their insight and kindness, and they will prove to me that they deserve the high praise I heap upon them.  I continually take their spiritual, emotional, and intellectual temperatures, and measure that to what it was a week ago, or a month ago, and try to evaluate if we've improved or slipped back somewhere.

Homeschooling

I started having 30 minutes alone with each child.  Kaylee teaches Kendon while I work with Peter.  Peter is supposed to teach Kendon while I work with Kaylee.  Kaylee teaches Peter while I work with Kendon.  Peter doesn't take to this teaching stuff very naturally, but then again, he's only 3.

Kaylee loves Jesus, and loves to think about him and talk about him.  One day Peter was asking about why the water obeys Jesus.  I started thinking about explaining the power of God, but Kaylee answered for me.  She said, "Because the water loves Him.  Right Mommy?"  I was amazed at how true and simple that was, and agreed whole heartedly.  I added,  "We love Jesus, so we want to obey him too."

Peter is such a quick learner.  I am inundated constantly, every day by questions about every movie, TV show, book, or event he's ever seen or heard.  In order to teach him, all I have to do is answer every question with attention instead of just pacifying him with pat answers.  He is so easy and listens so well to what I'm saying, even though he may be bouncing on the couch at the time, I tend to give him less attention, which I need to rectify.

Kendon is growing and learning to talk rapidly!  I can't keep up!  Every day he'll say a new sentence, and surprise me that he knows what he's saying.  His favorite phrase right now, is "No way!"  He is so funny, and he's full of character.  He loves to say, "Hea hav dat" as he hands me things.  He also loves to sit and read with me, which also helps his improving vocabulary.  He is a climber, which is my only frustration with him.  He won't stay off of the table, counters, or changing table, and I'm constantly worried that he's going to break an arm!

Striving Always for Better

We're a work in progress, and every day we mess up and have to refocus.  Every day I ask for help and forgiveness, then help again, and every day, by the end of the day, I feel the Spirit of Christ return to our walls, and fill us up with protection from the outside influences that might tear us down otherwise.  I guess that's what it's all about, and that's why the Bible tells us, "don't let the sun go down on your anger."  Because we want to sleep with Christ's light filling our hearts and minds, and angels to watch over us in our vulnerable state.  We can't have that if we've gone to bed angry or have not apologized for any contention and resolved it, allowing the Spirit to return.

I have HOPE that with Christ's help and example, I will some day reach my righteous goals in life.  I say to myself every day, "Never give up, Ginny.  Growth is happening as long as you NEVER give up."

Regression, Confession, Renewal, Rebirth

Confession:   During the last few weeks I slipped into some old habits, and felt myself getting angrier and angrier, and noticed that I re-started yelling like I used to.  I felt awful about it, and kept apologizing, and trying to do better, but a part of me blamed them, and that allowed me to continue the negative pattern.  I finally turned to the Lord about this, taking my own advice. 


 
I felt inspired to think more deeply about it.  What was I really angry about?  What was underneath that rage?  What usually triggered the outbursts?  I listened to the Kirk Martin CDs again.  Specifically CD 2, Create a Calm Home.


 
I realized that I got angriest when I couldn't bark a command and they follow-when they refused to be robots, and they exercised their right to choose their own actions, words, and feelings.  The more I attempted to control, the angrier I got. Whether it was how they put on their PJs, how they spoke to each other, or how they used their time, I was trying to be the puppeteer. Most of all, I was so busy trying to force them to be calm and in control of themselves that I neglected to realize that it's not my job to do that for them.  Only they can do that for themselves.  My job is to simply control what I do, say, and feel. I was the huge hypocrite trying to pull the moat from their eyes while ignoring the beam in my own.


 
Once I realized that, I stopped immediately.  I let go. Every time they got into a conflict, or made a choice I wouldn't have made, I let go of my anxiety.  I don't need perfect children.  I just need to be proactive and calm.  I cry as I write this, because it's such a powerful experience to let go and say, "My child is responsible for his or her own life!"  It is not to say I don't care, or won't do everything I can to help guide and teach.  I am talking about letting go of making the choices for them-even telling them what choice to make.  Teach consequences.  Allow them to fail.  These are things I was forgetting to do, and as soon as I remembered, and started letting go of my need to control again, a massive change came over me and my family once again.  My children trust me again, and give thanks for my new attitude, again.


 
Last night the children decided to have some fun as I took an evening shower.  They got into some rice, and spread it all over the kitchen, carpeted basement steps, couch, and living room carpet.  Then they took some water and sprinkled it all over the rice making it stick to everything it touched, including their feet.  So it was literally all over the house.  Can you imagine the scene that awaited me when I walked out of my room?  I was armed with the Spirit of Christ after reading scriptures and praying that day, and having a new outlook.  I whispered when I might have yelled, I got to work when I might have flown off the handle, and I allowed the children to help clean up, instead of fighting and forcing them.  They lost their movie privilege for the night, and they didn't argue it.  They had to go directly to bed after dinner, with no story and no extra time with Mommy.  But I still prayed with them, and the miracle was: I didn't feel angry. 


 
It took me an hour to clean up all the rice.  The whole time I thought about how much fun they must have had, and thought of their beautiful laughs and smiles, and I gave thanks that they were playing happily together, and making each other their best friends.  They were very sorry, and helped me clean as much as they could, and accepted their punishment.  Peter did protest a little at not getting to read a story, and I almost gave in, because it is education, after all, but I resolved that he would get a story tomorrow, but not during punishment time.  I was firm, but not angry, unmoved, but still loving.  I wasn't pushing down or stuffing down anger or frustration.  It simply wasn't there, because I had surrendered.  I cannot control them, and no amount of angry shouting or ranting and raving will change that.  But there is something I can control, and that is me. 


 
When I saw the rice, my mind made an instant split:


 

What can I do?	What can't I do?
I can sweep and vacuum.	Go back in time and change what they did.
I can praise God, and see the good.	Force them to never ever again choose this.
I can think of a consequence.	Control their attitudes.
I can let go of my anxiety.	Control my husband's reaction to the mess.
I can do a great, thorough job of cleaning.	Magically will away the mess.
I can listen to music and poetry in my mind.	Stop my kids from laughing or playing.
I can enforce a consequence without debate.	Change the situation.

 
Perhaps it's fitting that the same evening, I happened to read in my favorite book, Help for the Harried Homeschooler by Christine M. Field, Page 269:

"When I gave up my need to control, much of my anger and frustration dissipated."

Then on Page 271 She describes coming to God in tears, frustration and powerlessness:

"Love me. God always answers. Love your neighbors. That's all. I'll work out the rough spots. And he does."

AND HE DOES.

 

Survival vs. Thrival

To be perfectly honest, motherhood terrified me from day one.  I felt the surge of motherly love toward my baby, I had read many many parenting books ahead of time, so I thought I wouldn't be scared.  I thought I had it all planned out in my mind.  But when I brought my little girl home from the hospital, all I could do was sit on the couch with her in my arms and cry for the next 5 hours.  I felt panic and fear.  I had majored in Early Childhood Ed in College, and I had been around many many little kids in my life, but I had never known the pressure--the responsibility of motherhood.  That was when I turned on the survival switch in my mind, and it took me 4 years to figure out it was hurting not helping me.  At the time, to help myself calm down inside, I said over and over in my mind, "Just keep her alive.  Just keep her alive."  Instead, I should have told myself, "Enjoy this.  Enjoy her.  Laugh.  Have fun!"

The Survival Switch

The Survival Switch is on when you figure out the minimum you need to do to stay alive and keep the children alive, and stay focused on it.  You know it's on when you expect praise and applause every time you go the tiniest bit above that minimum.  When you can sit for 3 hours reading a book, puttering on the computer, or talking on the phone, but can't find 15 minutes to play a game of memory with your child, you may be in parenting survival mode.  I go in and out of this mode, but to the children, it's torture, especially young children.  It's a battle I fight within myself, a battle I wish I'd fought several years ago before the bad thought patterns became habits.

What to expect from your children if your Survival Switch is active:

Expect them to act out.  Scream.  Fight.  Expect them to get into things, make messes, tattle, and whine.  Expect them to cry at you and hang on your legs, trying to get you to wake up mentally, and engage with them.  They may try a positive approach, like talking to you, bringing a book to you, etc, but if that doesn't work, they will resort to whatever does work.  Hitting, Biting, anything that triggers emotion in you, they will do it.

So, what do we do?

Well, the short answer is WAKE UP!!  I wrote a letter to Kirk Martin about my daughter, unloading all my fears and concerns about her, asking how I could get her to do this, or stop doing that.  It must have been 3-4  pages long, and that was shortened!  His answer to me was simple.  "Let go of pleasing everyone around you.  Sit down with her.  Enjoy her."  Those last words, "Enjoy her" have repeated over and over in my mind.  I have found that it is impossible to enjoy parenting if I don't unload all my worries, stresses, anxiety and concerns on one who can shoulder them.  The only one worthy of that burden is God.

The Specific Answer:

Routine, traditions, self-discipline, and patience, are all crucial.  But by far, the most important, in my opinion, is honest, open, heartfelt prayer.  Then, with an open heart and mind, receiving answers to our individual situations, we can navigate our lives, and make the changes we need to.  If waking up is what we need to do, God will help us do that.  Many times I've prayed about what I should do differently, or how I can inspire so-n-so to change, or fix some problem I see, and the answer has been...REPENT.  Change your heart.  AGAIN."   This is a life-long process for us, and our kids will bring us to our knees over and over if we let them.  If we open our hearts to our Father in prayer daily, when we need to go deeper it will happen naturally, as it does when talking to a very good friend, or family member.  Frequency of speaking to, and working along side a person leads to familiarity.  The same goes with God.

Have a problem?  Ask this question.

Have I confessed my sins, shortcomings, and weaknesses, and asked for help from my Father today?

It's only a decision away.

Kids Who Stand Out in a Crowd

Celebrate Calm:

The Beat of a Different Drummer

I peek in at him late at night lying in bed, fast asleep, my no-longer-little guy sprawled out across his bed, long unruly mess of hair covering his face. . .and I smile. I smile because he is full of personality. He is so different than me in many ways, different than my expectations, different than the little boy I had always imagined. And for that I am grateful. He's his own person, knows what he likes and doesn't like. I look in at him, peaceful and innocent while he sleeps. The fight is gone and his little mind is resting. He's gone full force for the last sixteen hours, he needs a break.

I like it that he pushes the limits, like it that he questions everything, because one day he's going to do something spectacular. Along the way, he's going to make some big mistakes, but he's going to live large and dream large. Underneath the spunk and mouth is a heart not only lined with gold, but filled with it. It is large and feeling, and it wants to do good even when his impulses lead him astray at times.

I think God must look down and confuse him with a little tornado. But I also think God looks down and likes what He has created, likes the little tornado who is growing into a man.

I think He sees Himself in my little boy, funny as that sounds. The part of God who is the Creator, who by the sheer force of His energy and being created life and all that is in the world. The part of God who was willing to step into humanity and persevere on a rugged cross because it would help people. The part of God who walked among men, largely misunderstood, often reviled because He was different and didn't do things the way the rulers of His era thought they should be done.

But He kept going. Because He, too, had a mission. He didn't care what others thought. His vision was larger than a mere thirty-three years on earth.

I think God must see Himself in the part that sometimes misses out on earthly things because he's in tune with something deep inside another person. The part who remains an idealist even when the world around him is less than ideal. The part that isn't afraid to look into eternity and see better things in all of us.

That is my son sleeping there. We fought each other until we couldn't fight anymore. Until I realized that I was the one who needed to change, because I wasn't going to change his nature. Perhaps he has been given to me so that I would change.

That is my son. Sometimes he inspires anger, sometimes frustration. Then he makes me laugh, even smile in resignation. And as I look at him, he makes me cry. He is a wonderful creation. Through all the struggles, I can see the imprints of the Creator.

He is my son. He marches to the beat of a different drummer. Thank God.

-Kirk Martin (during his transformation several years ago)

I read this and see my daughter.  I also see myself, changing my perspective.  I love the honesty and bravery of Kirk.  Now Casey, of whom the poem was written, has begun to realize his own great potential and at age 16 is already holding motivational workshops and selling CDs for kids.  He's found his spark and his own unique mission in life, and that is what we all want for our kids.  Those of us with kids who don't fit in, who don't make friends easily, or subscribe to the popular societal way of thinking, we are fortunate!  Our kids are different!  If we don't frustrate their god-given purpose with our own anxiety and need to control, but instead lead as Christ would have us do, we will find a great treasure beneath that rough exterior.  I am begining to see it in my daughter--such a powerful soul, who is my daily gift and challenge.  She is an inspiration and a great, raw fountain of understanding,  perspective, and gratitude to God.  She changes me by being in my life.  I am a better person because of her.  I will always give thanks for my fiery angel. 

A word about my husband

I have been married to my husband for 5 years, and at first, I thought I married him because I loved him.  Then I thought I'd married him because I was tricked!  Now I know that I married him because I would have been incomplete without him. 

I love this man more today than yesterday, and it's not because life has been smooth and easy with him.  It's not because he gives me roses or plans romantic dinners or surprises for me.  It's not because we have the same interests or talents, or appreciate one another's talents and interests.  It's not because we meet eachothers' needs, or even have the same ideas about life and raising children.  It's not because he never loses his temper, and cheerfully helps out around the house.  It's not because he loves the children.  It's not because he loves me.  It's not because he values the same things I value, or respects the same things I respect.  Those things, all of them, come and go.  The reason I love him is that he is part of me.  Living without him would be living only half a life.  He is not responsible for my happiness, but he is part of my happiness, as are my children. 

Last night I wanted to go to a George Dyer concert I'd been looking forward to for some time.  Kevin called, and had decided to eat out and wouldn't come home until an hour after the concert began.  I pleaded with him, but his mind was set.  I could have moped and decided to stay at home fuming that my interests weren't important to him.  In fact, I started to!  But then a friend called, and said, "why don't you see if you can pile the kids into my car and we can bring them together?"  I was going to say, no no, my needs aren't important to my husband, and I know my kids won't be able to sit for 2 hours and listen to singing, so I'll stay home.  But then I realized how stupid that would be!  We piled up the kids and went, then I was able to call my husband after an hour into the concert and the kids were tired, wired, and getting wild, and he came and took all three home.  He did not care about missing the concert, because his interests are not the same as mine, something that I am very grateful for at times!

He looked like a white knight to me when I saw him walk through the door of the concert.  He had such a beautiful, rested, and loving look as he embraced his kids.  I realized that sometimes, he just needs to unwind a little before facing the rabble.  Who can blame him?  He was able to greet them happily instead of with hunger and stress hanging over him.

I'm so glad I brought the kids, because before they ate quite so many cookies, they did have a wonderful time appreciating the incredible singing.  Peter especially, with his love of singing, was completely overcome with the beauty, and seemed to be singing with George in Spirit, eyes peeled, breathing with him, mimiking his facial expressions.  George Dyer, for those who don't know, is an Opera singer, who is a brother/nephew (nephew who was raised as a brother for a time) to my Branch President and cousin David Light.  George put on a free concert for the Floyd area as a greeting from the LDS church to the area.  What a marvelous, smooth, rich, delicious voice!  After singing two hours to a CD, he didn't have even a trace of raspy fatigue in his voice.  That is true talent!  (He also sung at Pampa's funeral, and learned in just a few hours, a very difficult song he'd never heard before, sung it perfectly, with feeling!)  David and George also sang together for a song, which was a real treat, as David also has a beautiful, rich and velvety voice.

http://www.georgedyer.com/

After the kids were gone, I got to sit and enjoy a cup of cider, and feel all the muscles in my back unwind.  I was able to let the beauty in, and feel it fill my soul up with delight.  It was the perfect evening, thanks to a good friend, a flexible attitude, and my darling husband.

Kevin is my soul mate, because I choose for him to be.  My Mom used to say that about my Dad, but I didn't get how wonderful that is, until I experienced it myself.  I have a choice, and I choose him!  That gift of free will is the greatest gift that God has given me!  I look at Kevin, not as he is now, but as he can be.  I see in him, not what he does and says, but who he is becoming, the seed of a God.  I see in him the best parts of my children.  In his eyes I see that precious light that I also see in my children't eyes, that light that went out for awhile, when life was all about scraping from one day to the next.  Now, when life is about working toward quality and self mastery, the light has returned to all of us, and we're experiencing the joy and rest and peace that we never knew we could! 

This is undenyable proof to me that there is a God.  Purely natural selection would not give our minds the ability to find joy.  Survive, yes, but joy...joy is the design of a creator who cares! 

Joy, love, peace, enlightenment, self-control, all these things are not neccessary for survival of the species.  But they are available to those who are willing to believe in something higher than themselves.  Believe in the truth, no matter what men say, believe that truth is true, and no half-truth or lie matters.

This truth is why I am still married to my husband, and why I love him so dearly and deeply.  Without God, marriage is useless, and denies the species of a more diverse breeding pool.  Without God, there is no hope for becoming better or more than we are now.  There is no reason to educate beyond survival.  Why spend our lives learning if all that knowledge dies with us?  Why spend a lifetime working out problems with our families and spouses, learning tolerance, unconditional love, respect, and laughter if there is no such relationship available after death?  Why not just compete for the best and most we can get in life?  Why do we all feel drawn to this other way of living?  Searching for knowledge, improving relationships, finding truth and happiness isn't found in the animal kingdom.  Why are we different? 

It is because we are children of a God, and we all have seeds of greatness planted in us that we are unconsciously driven to realize.  Next time you feel that urge to reach beyond yourself, realize that it's because you have the natural pull toward godhood, because you are the child of a God.  You may not be ready for the fullest desires of your heart, but never give up, because this life continues on and on, and so can your marriage, if you make that choice, and do what it takes.

Death of a Great Man

Dr. Vearl Gordon McBride

Vearl Gordon McBride, beloved husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather passed from this world to the next, December 8, 2009, after a full life of service to the Lord, his family, and his profession. He was born September 24, 1919, in Pima, Graham County, Arizona, one of 10 children, to Don Carlos McBride and Emma Jane Hubbard McBride. He is survived by his sweetheart of 66 years, Betty Jean Henderson McBride, whom he married May 14, 1943, in the Mesa Arizona Temple, of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and by their children and their spouses: Maurice & Alicia McBride, Dr. Dane & Karma McBride, Darla Anderson, Tanya & James Skeen, Dr. Reo and Keri McBride, Bonnie Colleen & Dr. Alan Whitehurst, and Gina LaRee & Dr. Michael Jones, together with 34 grandchildren, 24 great-grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews. He was an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served in a variety of church callings. He served as Branch President or Bishop for the Church in Iowa, North Carolina, and Illinois. Together with his wife, he served as a volunteer missionary for the Church in the Houston Texas Mission, where they taught remedial and rapid reading to over 1800 people, most of whom were not members of his church. For the past 17 years he served as Patriarch of the Roanoke Virginia Stake of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He earned his Bachelor's Degree in History and Political Science and his Master's in Educational Administration at Arizona State University. He earned his Ph.D. in education at the University of Virginia. He spent 30 years teaching at the college level, serving as department chairman at three colleges, Upper Iowa University in Fayette, Iowa; Methodist College in Fayetteville, North Carolina; and Culver-Stockton College in Canton, Missouri. One of his greatest achievements was the creation and development of a unique reading program, which he called "Panoramic Reading." He taught over 10,000 people in 42 states, 3 Canadian provinces, the islands of Samoa, and in Hong Kong. He was able to apply these principles to helping problem readers, including the dyslexic, the emotionally disturbed, the blind and sight-impaired, autistic, deaf, and ADHD students. He felt deeply that the reading program he developed was received through inspiration from the Lord, and he was quick to share the blessings of that gift. The family expresses its deep gratitude to the entire staff at the Brandon Oaks Rehabilitation and Nursing Center who so lovingly and excellently cared for our father in the final weeks of his life. Funeral services will be held on Saturday, December 12, at 11:00 a.m. in the LDS Roanoke Virginia Stake Chapel located at 6311 Wayburn Drive, Roanoke, Virginia. A viewing will be held on Friday evening 3:00-5:30 p.m. at Oakey's South Funeral Home and 9:00-10:30 a.m. at the church prior to the services. Interment will be in the Ferguson Family Cemetery in Roanoke County.

I would like to add that he was a great missionary to the end, handing out over 1,000 copies of the Book of Mormon (after 900 he stopped counting) before his death, his last act, a great physical effort surged forth from him to offer his unspoken testimony to a male CNA who had cared for him in the hospital, having instructed his son to give a Book of Mormon and a tip to the man. He lived as though he were on a perpetual full-time mission. His handing out copies of the Book of Mormon was the same to him, as his mission to teach people to read and read faster. It is all education--giving people tools to improve their minds and lives.



Learning To Read

http://news.google.com/newspapers?id=z8ELAAAAIBAJ&sjid=ulUDAAAAIBAJ&pg=4862,7048726&dq=dr%20vearl%20mcbride&hl=en



Patriarch gives away 880 Books of Mormon

http://www.mormontimes.com/around_church/worldwide_church/?id=7396



New Methods Help Dyslexics Speed Read

http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1356&dat=19870519&id=IiQTAAAAIBAJ&sjid=nAYEAAAAIBAJ&pg=6591,1776442



Vearl G. McBride left behind his wife of 66 yrs, 7 children, 6 children in-laws, 32 grandchildren, 11 grandchildren in-law, 24 great grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his parents, siblings, 1 son in law, and 2 grandchildren.



From the Deseret News, June 18, 1966: "Eleven year-old Tanya McBride claims to be the fastest reader in the world. She was trained by her father, Dr. Vearl G. McBride, chairman of the department of education and psychology at Methodist College, Dunn NC. He specializes in teaching rapid or 'panoramic' reading. Mr. McBride is the Branch President of the Dunn Branch, Raleigh Stake, NC.



I took classes from "Pampa" as we called him, as a child. One of my fondest memories was when I was embarrassed and frustrated that everyone else could speed read, but I, the youngest in the class, just wasn't getting it. In frustration one time, I pretended to speed through an entire book, and just fibbed about having comprehended it. I got all sorts of attention, "Ginny was the fastest! Wow!" and then he asked me to stay after as he sent the class out to do his specially designed exercises. He quizzed me about the contents of the book, with my parents nearby. When it became obvious that I'd lied, he didn't flinch for a moment, and just said, "Ginny, we are very proud of you. You can go now, thank you." My mother was tense, and I could tell almost jumped down my throat for dishonesty, but he smiled with a twinkle in his eye, knowing, and understanding why I'd done it. He never exposed my lie to the class, and continued to praise me, as though I'd actually done it. I knew that he knew, but I also knew that he didn't want to embarrass me or discourage me by direct confrontation. He never spoke to me about that for the rest of my life, and never told anyone else either. That's the kind of patience and enduring love it takes to reach children, and he reached thousands. Pampa, you will live forever, because of the legacy you left behind.