Roman Makes 10 - blog

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Thank you!!
:)

dear guys

{anything i say in this post isn't meant to be discussed or asked about; meaning, mom/dad/siblings, please keep whatever questions you have about the following "dear boys" in your head, and don't let them leave your mouth. ;) please, please don't ask me who these boys are, or what my notes mean. i'll talk when i feel like it. right now i just like having some decent dear boys material, but i'm not up to elaborating. merci.}

dear plaid,
what is up with dreaming about you nearly every night? no attraction either way, just a sort of mutual friendship, sort of. yet, every dream leaves me distracted for days. i really just don't want to go there. heh, i've heard that you dream about the things you think about before you go to sleep. well, i can assure you that i wasn't thinking about you, or us, or that. 
-just another girl

dear sunday school boy,
you're that much older than me? somehow i can't see us ever going out. thanks for the conversation, though! i'm glad to know that there are guys who take me seriously, and who see me as older than i actually am - wow, was that a compliment!
-eighteen-going-on-nineteen

dear curls,
yep, writing to you again. this time though, i'm over you. i just want to thank you for those nice things you said. the advice was well received, and i'm really glad that you were so honest with me. i think you're great, despite your tendency to aggravate me at times. thanks again for inviting me back.
-ringlets

peculiar

My sister came home from her Mutual activity tonight with the Young Women, and she was crying. My sister does not come home from activities and just cry about anything. Once again, her female peers in the ward ignored her, and not just ignored her, but treated her like some foreign object. When I watched her walk in the door, tears streaming down her cheeks, my heart went out to her, and my mind went back to my life between the age of 12-17. 
I had been homeschooled my whole life. My parents knew that teaching their children at home was what the Lord wanted them to do, so they did their best to accommodate to our needs. Four children, at home, my parents as our teachers. I can't even begin to imagine the sacrifices my mother and father made, and continue to make, for us, especially during the most trying time of our lives. We moved, back to our home state, and I began to wake up to what happens in the real world. During the summer, lots of the girls in my beehives class were my friends. We'd hang out every few days, go on walks around our neighborhood, talk about our favorite books, plan our birthday parties months in advance. Then school would start back up and I became invisible. I didn't see them at the middle school every week, so at Mutual on Wednesdays, they couldn't talk to me. I didn't dress like them, so they avoided me. I didn't read Harry Potter, watch the Disney Channel and Cartoon Network, and play nintendo. And, of course, I had too many siblings. A few select leaders were my friends, but secretly, I think they just felt bad for me, and thought they had better talk to me, otherwise they might lose me to inactivity.
Junior High started, and for the first time in my life, I was going to a charter school. All of a sudden, they could talk to me again. They told me all of the things I would need to know - what binders to get, what kind of backpack was hip, how I should do my hair, how I should wear my makeup. I went to that school, and loved it for the first few months. I made wonderful friends, who I am still in good contact with today. I loved my teachers (most of them), and I learned incredible things. But then, things changed. That school became what I think of as a public school with a strict dress code. I left after one school year there and went to a "private school", which was, essentially, a handful of Jr. High and Highschool aged kids getting together in the basement of a building on mainstreet to discuss books, articles, and scriptures with a young father of two - shhh, don't tell the Department of Indoctrination! (er, Education). I learned a lot at that school. We had a cool name - we named our school after Frederick Douglass - printed our own monthly newsletter, had awesome field trips, and we all became fast, close friends. But after one school year there, even that was too much for me. I returned home and began to study midwifery with a local college from the time I was 14-17. I then became known as "the midwifery nerd" (it was incorrectly pronounced mid-wife-er-ee). I was looked down upon, wasn't talked to, and, on the rare occasions that one of my young womens "friends" started a conversation with me, I was shot down the moment I started talking about myself and my education. I was thought and spoke of as weird because I desired to study life - see my post, Birth: It's Natural. I didn't dare talk about how I had been at the births of four of my siblings.
I moved again, and the Laurels in the ward were nicer to me, and more accepting. Still, I didn't fit in. I didn't have a boyfriend, hadn't kissed any boys - hadn't even held hands with any guy - didn't dress like they did, and didn't go to prom, or homecoming, or morp. I wasn't in school plays, didn't play a sport, and had no clue who the popular celebrities were. I wasn't ridiculed, but I certainly didn't feel welcomed.
I started going to Relief Society when I was about six months from being eighteen. When I say this, I don't want to come across as conceited or proud. . . . When I was barely seventeen, I felt like I was more advanced, in some ways, than the other girls in Laurels. (Okay, that sounds rude. Um, I thought that I understood things differently than they did. I had different desires. I didn't want to just be a flighty, flirty, care-free teenage girl. I wanted to be a woman, to really prepare to be a wife and mother. So, I began going to Relief Society with my Mother) Soon after turning eighteen, I went to the Single's Ward. I made friends fairly easily there, and still do, yet I don't feel like I have a best friend. I was on my "skirts only" kick last summer, but when I started to attend YSA regularly, I felt like I couldn't wear skirts all the time, that I as thought of as strange because I didn't wear pants. No one really said anything, though I did get a curious comment more than once. Maybe I was just paranoid. In any case, my best friends continued to be the ones who understood me, who had known me for years, who were/are strange, like me. Now, after having been in the YSA ward for nearly a year, I feel more accepted. I'm a young single adult, just like everyone else. I'm not the only one not going to college right now, not the only one who isn't in a relationship. People talk to me, like, really talk. Guys and girls. But I'm going on nineteen years old, and this is the first time in my life that I've felt accepted, not ridiculed or looked down upon, by "public schoolers".
I don't mean to put down those who don't homeschool. Everyone makes choices, and everyone is different. I'm glad I wasn't accepted by other girls when I was younger. I'm glad I wasn't like them. They were good girls, but I wanted to be different. I wanted to stand out, not blend in. I just can't stand how stereotypical people are. I was homeschooled, therefore, I must be completely unsocial, mis-educated, lazy, weird, sheltered, right?! No. I'm not. My sister is not. My brothers are not. We are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who choose to educate/be educated at home. We're still human! We're still male and female! We make mistakes like everyone else. We're learning like everyone else. We just make different choices than "normal" people, I guess.
So, please, don't look at me weird when I talk about my siblings learning at home. Don't tease and torment my sister because she chose to bring "healthy" brownies to a Mutual activity. Don't glare at her because of her lack of a boyfriend - she's FOURTEEN. Don't put her down because she doesn't wear makeup. Don't ostracize her because she doesn't know who the latest porn stars are - I'm sorry, but that's what I see them as, the Disney Channel celebrities, and popular TV Show actors and actresses. Don't act grossed out because she likes birth. She still has FEELINGS. Keep your opinions to yourself. My dear sister doesn't call your weird because you wear makeup. And as for having "too many siblings", allow me to direct you to some of the recent words of our modern day Church leaders - the words of the Lord to us:
Teaching the Doctrine of the FamilyChildren
and watch this video
I'm not really speaking to anyone in particular. I just need to vent without expressing outward anger. Please, no one misunderstand my words. My heart was just breaking for my sister when she came home tonight with the news that no one said a decent thing to her, yet again, and that all she got was flack for being in such a large family, for not going to Highschool, and for not knowing who a certain male celebrity is. She's kind to those girls even when they are so rude to her. They just don't understand her, at all. But would it hurt for them to try to understand her?  She can be one of the sweetest friends! If we are going to claim to be Saints of God, we must act like Saints! All of us. Homeschooled or public schooled; married or single, male or female. We must love the other children of God. We do not have to accept a person for their personal beliefs, but we must not shun them either. If personal safety is an issue, pray for the person you don't feel safe being around. Recognize that for a good reason, we are not all alike. We each have different tastes and desires, and we may not all like the same books, or clothes, or music; but we all have one absolute thing in common: we are all sons and daughters of God. 
To end, I want to state something that I'm just beginning to realize. Despite, and even because of, the fact that I quit going to Mutual activities, and had zero real friends in my ward for years and years . . . I have gained a stronger testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Instead of leaving the Church because I felt offended, I became closer to my Lord. I chose to turn a weakness into a strength. And I don't regret that one bit.
1 Nephi 18:1-4[A]nd we did work timbers of curious workmanship. And the Lord did show me (Nephi) from time to time after what manner I should work the timbers of the ship.Now I, Nephi, did not work the timbers after the manner which was learned by men, neither did I build the ship after the manner of men; but I did build it after the manner which the Lord had shown unto me; wherefore, it was not after the manner of men.And I, Nephi, did go into the mount oft, and I did pray oft unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things.And it came to pass that after I had finished the ship, according to the word of the Lord, my brethren beheld that it was good, and that the workmanship thereof was exceedingly fine. . . .
[End note: I'm not exactly sure what my intent was in writing this post. Just take it as a grain of salt, or don't take it at all.]

Royal Purple Bridesmaid

My best friend, "Cupcake", was married yesterday! Holy strawberries, was yesterday intense! Maren's colors were Royal Purple and Princess pink, so since I was one of eleven bridesmaids, I got to wear this gorgeous satin dress. 

{this picture does not even do the dress justice}

[I have to admit, after my overload of purple, I wasn't too keen on wearing a purple dress, but now, I really like the color. It looks great on me! :)]Thanks to my dear mother for sewing this dress! [All I did was put on the flowers and add the pearl middles (stud earrings!)]

And thank you to sister J. for the fabulous photo of me in my dress at the reception! :)
So now the happy couple is off on their honeymoon, and all us wedding partyers are recuperating. ;)
I think that being a bridesmaid once was a great experience, but I don't really want to do it again. I'd just rather be the bride. ;)

Happiness

Forgive me if I offend.
Mom, I thought of you when I saw this. :) ;)

{image via}

To the Woman I Love, Admire, and Cherish . . .

. . . and (assumingly) drive up the wall, aggravate, confuse, . . . and . . . strive to emulate.
Mom.
I'm not going to turn this into a sappy love note. I admit that I am terrible at finding the perfect gift for this day, and sometimes I wish that I could just scrap the whole holiday - as I'm sure you do. It annoys me that we have these "special" days where we celebrate mothers (or fathers, significant others, grandparents, presidents, etc.), and set aside twenty-four hours just for them, but then tend to forget to deem them as special for the rest of the year. Don't you agree? I detest feeling guilty not doing something for Mother's Day, when I try all of the other days to appreciate and honor you. We both know that I don't do so well many days . . . but with that being the case, what is the point of giving you one day of "love" and "respect", if it's forced and guilt-induced? [{giggle} I just used the word "induced" in a normal way. That's a first, I think! X)] Mothers are special, especially mine, and they need to hear that all the time. Nonetheless, I'm giving in and giving you a gift special for today, as is tradition.
Mother, you amaze me. Astound me, actually. I've watched you my whole life, and never cease to be amazed by your strength. There have been times when you have been so helpless. I tried to be there for you, and I learned so much from you during those times. [Yes, I'm crying. Don't you start too. ;)] Now, I see you growing ever stronger, taking on nearly-impossible tasks, raising your [soon-to-be ten] children, and supporting your husband. You never do anything just for yourself. Even when your dear friend gave you m&ms and told you that they were "just yours", you shared with your kids. I think I'm starting to understand why you do that. Keeping something special for yourself doesn't bring you as much joy as sharing it all away; seeing the joy on little ones' face, and chocolate too. That's what being a mother is about. You understand that. I hope to one day be the kind of mother that you are. I hope to be patient with my children, loving, understanding, firm yet gentle, always there, just a giggle away.
Mom, I must admit that sometimes I wonder why you haven't seriously kicked me out of the house. You've threatened it a couple times, but you haven't gone through with it. [Don't get me wrong, I don't want to leave. I'm fine and content right where I am. ;)] I don't see you as weak for not following through with those words, though. You know that we need each other, and you aren't willing to break the bond that we have just to be right. I know that one day you'll have to give me to the man I marry, and I will then not be dependent on you, but now, I am grateful for the dependency that I still have. I'm growing more and more independent as I get older, but I want you to know that I will never, not ever, be so independent that I would not need you. [Does that sound sappy? I was trying to steer away from things like that. It's truth, though! :)] Anyway, I know that a lot of the time I must drive you insane. As I learn and grow, and make mistakes, and learn and grow some more, and make more mistakes, it must be maddening for you, not being able to keep me from making mistakes, not being able to give me those life experiences of progression without all the pain, folly, and headache. I admire your strength in that too, though, Mom. You know that I must learn for myself, otherwise, I wouldn't really be learning. Thank you for that. Thank you for loving me anyway. Thank you for teaching me, and for being there for me, always. I wish I were a better daughter to you. I'm still trying to learn how to be selfless like you. Maybe I won't get that until I'm married and a mother of small children. I hope this doesn't sound like I'm rambling . . . 'cause I feel like I am. I just want you to know that even though sometimes it feels like we're walking on pins around each other, sometimes I act like I'm too cool for you [I do. You know it. I'm not a typical eighteen-year-old, but I still do it], sometimes I just can't stand being the eldest of nine, living at home, trying to do my own thing but not being able to; but you know, in those rare sane moments that I find myself in [rarely], I love and adore you. I wouldn't have my life any other way. I chose you, and you chose me. There is no place on earth that I would rather be . . . at this moment . . . [I didn't want to end on a cheesy rhyme].
Happy Mother's Day, Mom. 
{hug}{eskimo kiss}{eye roll ['cause you know I'm good at those]}{giggle}{sigh}
What would you like for breakfast? ;)

Birth: It's Natural

Allow me to grace you with my personal thoughts on a very serious matter. (In other words, enjoy my little rant/plea) :)
To summarize the above video, a mother, with three young children, goes into labor in her home. Her labor is quick, and her dear little son decides that he doesn't want to wait, and begins his quite rapid descent. The mother, essentially, panics, and her children call 911. The child is born moments after the phone call begins, and the operator tells the oldest child what to do about the umbilical cord. 
[First of all, before I get very far into this post, I want to point out that I am in no way judging this mother, children, operator, or any of the other parties involved in this experience. I commend them for their bravery and work. I just wish that this didn't have to be deemed as news worthy, as surprising and abnormal.]
[I recognize that the world has digressed since Mother Eve and Father Adam first began to bear children, and that there really isn't anything that any of us can do about the past. In this post, I would simply like to point out that there is room for change, for the good! We can break traditions and begin our own sort of lives, ever reaching for the Glory of Exaltation. We do not have to follow the paths of past generations. Progression is all part of The Plan of Salvation, and what better time to rid ourselves of past digression and begin the process of progression than now?]
Now, to continue: part of me feels thrilled that the children got to experience such an incredible moment as their mother bore her child in their home; yet, as I watched the exchange with the 911 operator and the kids, I felt rather sad. [And now the midwife/natural birth advocate/mother in me comes out to shine.] My personal belief is that children should know the birth process - know what to do to help the mother as she labors, and know how to clamp the umbilical cord and care for the baby post-delivery. This, of course, is merely an idealistic dream, but I wish that the concepts of conception, pregnancy, birth, babies  in general were less . . . surprising, if you will. Those concepts should be natural! Why are they becoming such unnatural, even unexpected events? Women have been bearing children since the beginning of time! I'm fairly certain that the children of our First Parents, of Jacob, Lehi, Nephi, Jared and his brother (to name a few examples) knew and understood life. They understood and respected their mothers, as brothers and sisters joined their families. They were not naive to how a child is conceived and born - being born and witnessing birth in the wilderness, how could they be? [This is just my personal view, but I'm nearly positive that what I am saying is and was true.] If children, youth, adults in this time were informed and educated about the process of life, and appreciated this glorious process, the issues of immorality that are so extreme and present in our society today would plummet. That's really a no-brainer, but think about it; many, many children are not taught properly about how they came to exist on this earth - how they were created by two bodies that love them, how they came into this life through leaving their mother's womb - where they were cared for, and protected, and nourished for nine months. Those uneducated children grow up, are taught by other sources, namely schools (who, in my honest opinion, have no business teaching children about reproduction - but if the parents aren't going to teach them, then who will?!), peers, and the media, and they foolishly learn to disrespect intimacy, women/men, and their own bodies. They become older and begin to use themselves and others in inappropriate and wicked ways. Illegitimate children are born, parents are not there to teach those children, and the cycle continues for generations. Imagine what our world would be like if mothers and fathers took the time to be educated themselves, and then learned to educate their children. Imagine how much wickedness would cease, how many children would be born who would grow up to actually contribute great things to their world - rather than become menaces to society. Of course, life would not be perfect. We are yet human, and Satan still reigns. Oh, but how much power each of us could have over him! With happy and legitimate families everywhere, Satan's influence would lessen. The lives of so many others would have meaning! (And frankly, discussing life would not be so terribly awkward.)
Back to educating children about birth: is it not natural for a young daughter to understand labor and birth? Natural for a young son to know how to clamp, then cut, the cord, and to properly take care of the afterbirth? Natural for children to be at the actual births of their siblings? Sadly, in this world, it is not. But the truth is, teaching children from an early age that the stork delivered them to their parents' doorstep; or sending the kids off while mother and father rush to the hospital and send for the children once baby is cleaned up, leaving the children to imagine that the baby just somehow appeared; or making pregnancy and birth come across as "gross", "weird", and "scary" . . . and teaching girls about birth control . . . that is what is not natural. Children should know, understand, and appreciate the truths of these matters. What are we going to do when our children refuse to multiply and replenish because they honestly believe that having a baby is just sick, that it's bad for their bodies, and that there are much better things that they can do with their lives? Where will we be then?
As you can see, this is a very dear and serious subject to me. I look around and see people my age who refuse to talk about birth, who don't understand what contractions are, or what a placenta is. I find at times that I am looked upon as "weird" or "not normal" because I actually like (more like love) birth, and babies, and pregnancy, and birth books, and swelling bellies, and placentas, and because I am thrilled to one day become a mother, and want as many sweet babies as the Lord will give me! I wonder, why is it not normal for a young woman to love and appreciate life? Shouldn't that be the most normal affection and desire one could find in a girl? After all, mothering is what us women will one day be doing through the eternities, and this earth life is supposed to be a preparation for this time. 
Before I end, let me just point out again that everything said in this post is merely what I personally believe. My thoughts and feelings are based solely upon that which I have come to find, accept, and believe for myself - through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. If anything I have said offends anyone, I sincerely apologize. This is, however, my blog, and I do have the right to say what I please. :) I would be interested to hear what you readers have to say. I will not reply to comments on this post unless specifically asked to - and even then, I would ask that you email me at shaylee.motheratheart@gmail.com, if you would like to hear more of my thoughts. :) I hope you enjoy this side of me, rather than despise it. ;) The glorious, honest, unabashed truth that I declare is this: conception, pregnancy, and birth is life, and life is perfectly natural. There is no need to fear.
Dear friends - women, men, world; let us return to mothers, to babies, to holy conception and birth. It is all part of the pathway to godhood; and that, after all, is our highest aim in this life, isn't it?

Follow the Prophet

Good-Looking (age five) singing one of his favorite songs. :) :) :)

april showers bring may flowers

. . . and miracles!! UPDATE: yet another wonderfully-sweet person has provided us with the means to pay for the hosting fees - $300.00 was given to us this afternoon. 
The Lord is wondrous. He works miracles today still. He loves us, and He loves our dear boy - as He loves all of His precious children.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!!

Adoption from Ukraine: u p d a t e

Recently, I had a comment come through asking me a specific question. I am not going to publish that comment, but, Anonymous, if you are reading this, could you email me at shaylee.motheratheart@gmail.com? I would just like for you to explain who you are - if you would rather remain anonymous, I do not expect you to tell me your name, just let me know what your background is - how you came across my blog, and your reason and background behind your question. I am most curious. :)
Okay, UPDATE! A very, very kind person has donated $1,600 toward my brother's scholarship. My family now only has to fundraise for $300-$500. Of course, there will still be the adoption expenses of $25,000 or more, but right now we only have to come up with a fairly small amount. THANK YOU for your prayers and love.