Health Insurance Drama

DE-nied by Select Health because of my postpartum depression. They automatically deny new applications for anyone with an unresolved condition. So until I'm off medication and done going to therapy, I am a liability. Are we the only people who think this is wrong?

So we called Regence and odds look better there. Send another application, make a billion phone calls, and wait - hopefully to be accepted this time. It's a weird feeling to have someone tell me that they will accept my husband and my children but not me, because of something that was never my fault. I didn't choose to be sick.

Feeling a huge sense of injustice this morning.

Lost in Translation

We were driving through the mess of construction up in Sugarhouse today. I was getting annoyed and wondering how many more orange cones the earth can really hold, when Canon randomly shouted, "Taking drugs!"

What?! I thought to myself, Where in the world did he hear that?

Following the blinking lighted arrows to merge onto I-80, I was really perplexed by Canon's enthusiastic outburst. But slowly the translation became clear, Canon hadn't been talking about drugs at all. He had been excited about the "Digging trucks!" Boy I felt silly - Sigh of relief and a little bit of laughter.

Growing pains

Taesya says school was "kind of bad" today "because the other kids wouldn't play with" her. So she was sad and "teacher Sini talked to me when I was sad." "But I was still sad," she sad. :(

It's hard to know that I can't make the other kids play with Tae. She's such a great girl, I want to tell them. But my girl is growing up and she has to face these things on her own. I'm glad her teacher was there to help. But her little story was tough for me to hear.

Another person I'd really like to stick up for is Ben. His last employer owes us a bunch of money and I don't really see that money showing up any time soon. Ben's trying to figure out how to deal with the whole thing in a positive way, while I'd just rather call the guy up and yell at him. Yeah, my office skills are a little rusty. I can't solve this for Ben, I can just support him along the way. Life is tough, people.

All you need is Love

Conference has been amazing. It was really what our family needed: a special time to focus on spiritual things. Lately I have been asking Heavenly Father to help our family to grow closer to Him, and to help us feel his influence more fully in our lives. I feel like this is happening for us and it makes me so glad. Feeling the presence of the Spirit lifts me up, and lets me know that hard things have an end, and that we are not alone.

Today I feel so grateful for my husband and my children. Being a parent is grueling at times, but I love those kids so much. We are buddies, and partners, and loveys, and sometimes I almost squeeze them to death because they are so adorable. They are growing up too fast; I will really miss it when Keller stops talking baby jabber. We have such great conversations together. And we discovered in the car yesterday that Taesya knows how to add (don't ask ME, I so did not teach her that). She told us that 4 and 5 make 9, and that 5 and 5 make 10. We were shocked! Slow down, Tae, stay little for a bit longer. Canon's maturing as well; he rolled his eyes at Ben today. Where on earth did he learn that from? (Ok, that one was probably me.)

Scrolling through photos today, I found the ones from the day Keller was born. It melted my heart to look at that little face and realize how much he's grown. That's my baby, and I want him to stay a baby. So I looked up the other two; those three little people are so much a part of who I am. They are 90% of my thoughts, 98% of my day, and an unremovable portion of my heart. I love the people that they are; I see all the good that they have in them. And when they tell me that they love me, regardless of whatever I've done wrong that day, and they snuggle up next to me--I feel so content and fulfilled. Being a mother can be remarkable sometimes. I have Heavenly Father to thank.

Taesya - April 2005

Canon - October 2006

Keller - January 2009

Better

Today is going really well. It's a good mix of chores, playing, exercise, and going with the flow. I love my kids.

Invisible Mother

(I read this a long time ago and saved it on my computer. It's a great analogy for me to think about.)

"It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the
phone?' Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a Disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women."

Rain and Pain

The kids and I are hibernating because we all have colds. Being stuffy is lame.

I'm worrying about money today, since it's the end of the month. Hoping that Ben comes home with a paycheck. Money is my least favorite thing to worry about. What is my favorite thing to worry about? Well, I guess I don't really love worrying about anything. Hmm.

We're trying to get an individual health plan; this is an unpleasant experience so far. These things should seriously be a lot less complicated. Maybe after another 20 calls to Select Health, I will have made a bit of progress.

So today is kind of a lame rainy pain-y day. Trying a new recipe tonight, something about Chicken and thinly sliced zucchini... We'll see.

Thank you!

The vote was unanimous (Ben liked that one, too) and I will be turning in Poem #1. I don't have a title yet, though. Hmmm. Thank you to all of you for the help. I was so pleased to see the comments rolling in. Now we'll see what my teacher thinks.... dun dun dun. ;)

Urgent - I need Imput!

I'm supposed to write a free verse poem for my Creative Writing class. I chose to use the way I felt when we first moved to Glendale, an area of Salt Lake City. Compared to Kaysville, Salt Lake seemed super scary. So my imagination ran wild sometimes. Anyways, so I've written two poems, and I really don't feel super confident about either. I like what I am trying to convey (I'm not scared of Glendale anymore, by the way) but I don't know if I put it on paper well.

Please read the poems and give me some comments. Do you like one of them more than the other? Why? What parts did you like or dislike? My class is Monday night, so I'm just scrambling for advice. Thanks in advance. Writing for a grade is intense.

Poem #1

At night
I hear a car driving by.
Drive by?
He is going fast and loud,
And my shoulders feel tight.
So I see
An explosion of glass,
Covering the room;
And I hear
Pop pop of a gun outside,
My child cries for me,
Tires squeal away.
I step away from the window,
The large square pane still whole.
I touch the glass and it’s cold.
I pray a little.

Near noon
I hear a siren.
Does it sound close?
It echoes down the swamp cooler
Into my home.
Into my home?
The wail gets fast and loud,
And my neck feels tense.
So I see
A rough-faced man,
Running toward my home.
And I hear
His heavy breathing,
The door hitting the wall,
Hushed urgency.
I run to the front door,
The heavy painted wood stands closed.
I lock it once, twice,
And I close the curtains tight.

Poem #2

If I hear a car at night,
Driving loud and fast near my home,
Full of people I have never met,
I assume the worst:
It’s a gang,
A drive-by
They are going to shoot us.
In my brain I can hear
Them laughing,
Shooting a gun,
Exploding the glass in my front window.
I feel very tight,
Like if I just hold my breath
Maybe they will pass us by.
I check the window;
The pane is cold but whole.
This time it wasn’t me.

Every siren that I hear,
Echoing down the swamp cooler,
Weaving in and out of my ear,
Means someone is in trouble.
I feel the trouble coming:
A criminal,
Running from the police,
Into my home.
And I can see
His darkened eyes,
The gun in his hand,
My fear
And the tremble of my children.
I run to lock the door
Both locks
And I carefully glance through the peep hole.
No one is coming today.

I heard that a neighbor lost two dogs
In the middle of the night,
Pure bread bloodhounds,
Who haven’t come back.
There’s graffiti on the elementary school wall,
Letters that I don’t understand,
Put there by someone I have never met.
But we’ve been here for a year
And it still hasn’t been us.
Not our window, our door, our home.
Not yet.

(Really, Mom and Dad, I'm not scared of Glendale anymore. I don't want these poems to freak you out, k?)

Canon is morning person.

My son Canon is almost 3 years old and there are a few things that I have learned about my boy. He likes to wear his shoes at all times, he is afraid of most Disney villains, and he is a definite morning person.

It's a Saturday and everyone is asleep. Canon shows up in my bed (on Ben's side that is usually vacant during these freelance times) and he wants me to be awake. I'm tired and I need to read my scriptures before I get out of bed. So Canon leaves. Then I hear him open the fridge, open himself a yogurt, get a spoon out of the drawer and sit at the kitchen table. He comes in a few minutes later to ask me what flavor of yogurt he has been eating (the name Lime seems to make him happy). He returns to the kitchen and I hear him clean up after himself when he is done. Yogurt in the garbage, spoon in the sink.

Keller starts to cry a little, from his bed (laying on Ben, on the couch--again, this is normal for us lately) and Ben doesn't seem to respond. So Canon goes to Keller, talks to him nicely and puts his binky in his mouth. Then Canon takes himself to the bathroom and only bothers me to help him find some underwear out of the clean laundry.

He was sweet, independent, and quiet the whole time. He whispered whenever he came to ask me something. What a cutie, right? This morning routine isn't something we've taught Canon; he's just realized that he will always be awake first and adapted, I guess. I'm proud of him and it makes me smile thinking of his cute morning. :) my Canon Peck.