appreciated...

This past weekend was General Conference. I enjoyed at least the afternoon session each day...and some of the morning. Morning = Molly awake, afternoon = Molly napping. For 2 days, I had been waiting to hear from M. Russell Ballard.

He speaks to me. He is calming. I was so interested to hear what he had to say. What he said was truly inspired. He spoke to young mothers...that's me. Lately, I have felt tired. Worn out. Not totally validated. A stay -at-home mothers work is hard, no matter what the world says. It's hard. Elder Ballard seemed to be speaking directly for the Lord. He thanked us (ALL of us...members and not) for all that we do. He acknowledged how difficult it can be. He basically rejuvinated me. He spoke directly to our husbands AND our children. He told them to thank us, be kind to us, clean up after yourself. We'll be watching this again tonight (I'll add a link as soon as it gets posted). He was worth waiting for. I am so grateful for his tenderness, his willingness to listen to the spirit. I was deeply moved.

On Friday night, I was looking in my journal for something. I started to read from a few years ago. There isn't much there. I realized that the last time I wrote was a few days after Molly was born. I looked for stuff on my older 3. Very little. I didn't write about my wedding, the births of my 3 older children, my friends. I panicked. I was craving some information about my little family. I needed details. They weren't there. I realized that I can't remember everything. I was scared of losing memories, smells, images. SO...I am changing my ways. I am becoming a journal writer. On Saturaday, I went to the bookstore and bought a gorgeous 25$ leather journal. The perfect size. The perfect color. I love it. I have written in it several times already. Yesterday in Elder Ballard's talk, he quoted Anna Quindlen:

"...but the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three on them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4, and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next things: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."

I have loved that quote for some time, but it screamed out at me yesterday. I need to slow down, enjoy, savor, and write.