Gardiner Family Christmas Letter 2013

2013
Dear Friends and Family,

What a year 2013 has been for the Gardiner clan!  I looked over some of our pictures from the past year and couldn’t help but be full of gratitude.  We’ve had some hard things and some magical things.  We’ve learned a lot and grown a lot.  What could be better?  Highlights included: a family trip to Canada to visit my Dad; Many family bike rides and hikes; our summer camping trip; time with family and friends.

Doug:

Doug is entering his 15^th year working for Seagull Book!  He is the Marketing Director and enjoys a five minute commute to the corporate office that allows Christian and me to see him many days for lunch, which we love.  2013 will forever be known as the year Doug became a master gardener; starting seeds for our garden last January!  If you see a mysterious looking light in our yard in the wee hours of morning, don’t be alarmed.  It’s just Doug, gardening in his headlamp.  I tease him, but it is December and just last week we had homemade tomato basil soup with tomatoes, basil, onions and garlic grown by Doug himself.  So I can’t complain! He has enjoyed many fun hikes this year, especially hikes with his Dad, brother, and his SON!  He’d pack Christian up in the hiking backpack and go while the girls and I rehearsed for the play.  What a great dad!  He is serving in the Young Men’s Presidency in our ward. 

Christie:

This was a year of closing doors and opening new ones.  I had my big surgery in August which was really hard.  I can now officially say that unless a baby lands on our doorstep our family is complete!  One of the most exciting things for me was my return to the stage after a 14 year hiatus.  My girls joined me in a community production of Aida.  It was a joy to share that side of me with my kids who proclaimed, “Mom, we like you at the play!”  It’s been a tremendous year of growth for me and I feel like a totally different person and yet, the same.  I love to teach my MDT classes, sing, read, exercise and I even taught myself to sew.  In November, Hell froze over and I, Christie Gardiner, got a puppy.  He’s the cutest mini golden-doodle named Jack.  Also, I learned how to ride a bike (it should be noted that my bike has a basket and a bell)!  More than anything, I love being Doug’s wife and mom to my kids.     

Hailey:

Our 10 going on 20 year old sweetheart, Miss Hailey is pure light!  5^th grade has been a welcome reprieve from 4^th grade!  Hailey is in her musical theatre classes at On Broadway, is in the school band where she plays the trumpet, performed in the school play, was in Aida with her mom and sister, won the top honor in the Reflections contest for her Photography, is on the student council and loves art!  This is a busy girl who takes after her mamma and loves so many things it’s hard for her to narrow her focus!  It’s hard to believe that my baby is this beautiful, gangly tweenager!  Hailey and her fellow 5^th graders just completed a service project for children in Foster Care.  She was a huge helper in this project and you should have seen her face when she dropped off the 1,625 items to the Christmas Box House.  Of all of her accomplishments, her desire to serve and love others makes me the most proud.

Libby:

Our little Libby is the epitome of sweetness.  She brought people to tears in her performance in Aida.  Dancing always, Libby is very excited for her upcoming dance performance.  She increased her dance hours this year and it still isn’t enough.  She dances modern and ballet.  She also loves to sit on the landing of our stairs and watch me teach voice lessons.  She loves to sing and has the voice of an angel.  Libby is in the 1^st grade where she is learning to read like a champ.  She is a voracious reader and devours books as fast as they are given to her.  Libby loves soccer.  We weren’t going to do soccer this year, but we did and were surprised at how much better she was then last year!  She loves her role as big sister to Christian and things it’s awesome to have someone who follows her every move!  We love her silly antics.  Libby is soft and sweet and kind.  She is a social butterfly and always wants to play.

Christian:

Truly the joy of all of our hearts, we are so grateful to have this little boy in our family.  Eighteen months has flown but it feels like he was here always.  His vocabulary grows every day and brings us so many laughs.  He doesn’t say his “TR” sound very well.  He replaces is with “F” which is adorable when he’s talking about choo choo FRains, but not so cute when he wants to show you his big TRuck.  EEK!  He loves to follow his sisters around and torment our puppy Jack.  Christian just started nursery where he goes every Sunday like a champ without fussing one bit!  His baby smell is starting to fade and I have to admit that he still gets rocked to sleep for his naps and before bed.  He loves to be read to and has a handful of his favorite books that Doug and I have memorized!  He loves his choo choo frains, guys (playmobil stuff), Sesame Street, Jake and the Neverland Pirates and his “B” (his blanket).

Well, if you hung in there, you now know more than you probably care to about the Gardiner Family.  We love you all and wish you the Merriest of Christmases and the Happiest of New Years!  We are so grateful and this time of the year for the life of Jesus Christ.  May the spirit of this season be your constant companion in the upcoming year.

Love to you all,

Doug, Christie, Hailey, Libby, Christian and Jack the Puppy (ha!)    

Miss her.

I love Grandma Nina.  I miss her.  I've thought so much about her the past couple days.

 

A Prayer to Matter

A prayer to Matter

Dear God,

Today help me to matter.

Not to just BE matter, aimlessly taking up room on this earth, but to actually make a difference.
Help me to matter in the way that brings people to you.
Grant me the blessing of remembrance that I may keep in my mind this fact:
The only thing that means anything at all is Love.

When the baby cries, let me hold him and kiss him a hundred times.

When my girls walk in the door from school, let me show them love.
Let me throw my arms around them and tell them how special they are.
And when I correct their course, let me do it in love, in a way that doesn’t command but invites them to use their agency to be better people.
When my husband walks in the door, bless me with a listening ear and help me to ease his burden instead of adding to the weight.
Then I will be a mother and wife who matters.

Lord, please remind me to speak the kind words I think of those around me; that my love for them will make a difference in their day instead of floating away unused and unknown.

And when I, inevitably and unfortunately, think unkind or angry things bless me with a broader view and help me not to be influenced by limited vision of the situation.

And finally Lord, I ask thee please, to help me love myself.

If today I happen to do something that matters in the world’s definition of mattering, please bless me with the self-assurance to give thee the Glory and keep my mouth shut about it.
Instead remind me of my true light—that is through thy son and in thee. I am yours, a part of you and if for no other reason than that alone, I do matter.

Luck be a Lady Tonight, Fantasy Football Avatar 2013

On having a hysterectomy at 33.

How do you sit to compose your thoughts when your thoughts make no sense and are as quick to change as the thunderstorms we've had the past couple of days?  I had a hysterectomy at age 33, one week ago.  Here is some of how I feel.

There's the soul-crushing sense of loss that comes at night when everyone is asleep.  It makes me lose my breath, restricts my throat and tightens my chest.  Last night as I lay in bed listening to the outside sounds and Doug's even breathing beside me I thought this loss would swallow me up.  It doesn't help that I couldn't bear the thought of weaning my baby before the surgery so I had to deal with engorgement and that emotional loss too.  I cannot believe that I won't have another baby.  It's unfathomable.  A few days ago a friend suggested that perhaps I was sending myself a message that my children weren't enough and was that very fair, she wondered.  She couldn't have been farther from the actuality.  And so I explained it to her.  Being a mother to these babies has been the joy of my life.  It is because of their wonder and perfection that I can't picture not being able to do it again.  I am also keenly and humbly aware that some people never get to do it at all.  I know that I am blessed.  And my children, they are enough.  In a way I'm saying goodbye to their babyhood.  I will miss their baby smell.  I will miss breastfeeding them in the middle of the night when no one in the world existed but us.  I will miss all the sweet little firsts that babies bring.  I will miss rocking and holding and loving on them.   I read recently that gratitude is the antidote for basically any negative emotion.  So the only way I fell asleep last night was sifting through memories of my babies.  And there were plenty.  And they were beautiful.  And I was thankful.

There's the guilt.  Did I do enough?  Did I try hard enough?  Doug is the best dad; he deserved more children.  Am I being dramatic?  Was it really that bad?  I logically know the answers to these questions.  My heart is slow to process I guess. 

There's the physical pain.  I'm so over it.  The IVs and the Catheters and the immodesty.  The blood transfusions and iron injections.  The hair loss, the dark eye circles, the corpse skin.  The constant pain and humiliation of my "feminine issues"-constant.  The incisions and infections and engorgement.  The fatigue and exhaustion.  The emotional ups and downs.  The dental problems from iron deficiency.  The strange diets.  The surgeries.  The self-esteem problems.  Etc. etc. etc.   

There's the fact that I feel like I have no gender.  It's strange.  I didn't realize how much of my identity as a woman was wrapped up in one little organ.  It feels empty.  You can physically feel the loss.  It's strange.  I feel robbed of what I'm supposed to be.  I'm also worried about everything working properly. 

There's the excitement at being a mom to big kids.  I'm mourning babies with all my heart.  I gave my 20's to babies and the constant pursuit of how to get my babies here.  But what if what to come is just as amazing?  I'm seriously excited for the day that we can go camping without diapers, being able to go on a vacation with just my husband, vacationing with the family and being able to participate in all the activities together.  Life with big kids...fun?  I'm excited.

There's the Hope.   I'm thinking of a life without my health struggles.  There's the hope that my spirit can finally express itself in this body again.  There's the hope that I can rediscover who I was before and integrate part of that vibrant, vivacious girl into this new woman that I am.  A combination of that girl's spirit and this woman's wisdom could be amazing.  Maybe?  Maybe I can perform again.  Maybe I can be social and joyful again.   

Am I at peace? No, not really. But I knew what it felt like when I wasn't supposed to do it; when my baby boy wasn't here and I knew there was someone missing. It doesn't feel like that. It's more of a sad resignation. An acknowledgement that this is it; it's time. The first time a Dr. said "hysterectomy" to me was in 2005. I was 25 years old. I had one child. I was brave and determined and strong and brought two more children into this world at great personal physical expense.  It's time to let that go and to be who I am supposed to be now.  For myself and for my family.  I had a priesthood blessing that said that Heavenly Father's plan for me was to physically be the vibrant person that my spirit is.  I believe that!  I cannot fathom that it is God's will for me to suffer anymore.  I guess it's pretty amazing that in spite of the difficulty of my childbearing years, I am reluctant to let them go.  It speaks to how much I treasure my children. 

It's hard to close a book you love.  But the great news is that this book isn't a stand-alone.  It's part of a series.  And I hear that the subsequent books are just as great as the first.

You know the woman with the issue of blood in the bible?  I know her.  Well.  I actually can't wait to meet her in heaven, give her a hug and say "I feel you sister."  So the bible story goes that there was a woman...you know what, I'll let the bible tell it...

Mark 5:25-33 (Also Accounted in Luke and Matthew)
25 And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years,

26 And had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse,

27 When she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment

28 For she said, If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole.

29 And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague.

30 And Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned him about in the press, and said, Who touched my clothes?

31 And his disciples said unto him, Thou seest the multitude thronging thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me?

32 And he looked round about to see her that had done this thing.

33 But the woman fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth.

34 And he said unto her, Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.

So here's a thought...what did she do then?  After she exercised her Faith.  After the issue of blood was gone.  She'd suffered for 12 long years with it.  I have to imagine it became a part of her in so many ways.  Women in that time were separated and looked at as "unclean" when they had problems.  So 12 years being in isolation, did she just bounce right back?  Was she suddenly back to her old self?  No, it was a part of her and I'll bet that it took her time to reemerge.  That part probably took a lot of faith too.

Here's hoping I can have the faith to reemerge.

Dreams

I've spent the past two days at Libby's dance recital.  I just loved it.  I cried through the whole thing.  Twice.  At Libby's dance studio they base their recitals on a chosen story.  At this recital the performance was based on the book "Dream" by Susan Bosak.  It was lovely and adorable and flawed and perfect.

The concert started with a film with this caption, "We asked every dancer to tell us her Dream..."  Beginning with the littlest girls the dancers shared their dreams.  "I dream of being a princess."  My dream is to be a mommy."  "I dream that I will find a fairy."  The dreams grow with the age of the dancers, "I dream of being a ballerina."  "I dream of dancing en pointe."  And then the oldest dancers, "I dream of being a professional dancer."  "I dream of bringing about world peace."  "I dream of being a veterenarian."  One by one these glorious little women shared their dreams. 

I was done for before it even began.

After the film goes to black, we see a lone trunk on the stage.  A little girl skips to it, opens it up to reveal scarves in many colors.  As she joyfully plays with the scarves the performances start.  Each performance focuses on a different color--another of the girl's dreams.  The little girl grows to adolescense through the performance, periodically dancing across the stage.  Then at the end, the ballerinas are dancing with the colorful scarves and part to reveal the trunk again at center stage.  This time an old woman dressed all in white walks onto the stage.  She opens the trunk and pulls out the scarves, each representing her dreams.  She clutches them to her breast, places them carefully back down, closes the trunk and sits atop the trunk as the lights fade to black.

Pretty powerful stuff for a dance studio recital.

It made me think of my own dreams and the role that I play in helping my children accomplish their own.  As I watched those little dancers sharing their dreams on film, I realized that all that mattered to me was allowing my daughters to follow their bliss.  They could have asked me for help in being anything in that moment and I would have said yes, oh yes, whatever you want.  The world is yours my little girl. 

I might just have to face the fact that for at least one of my children that might not involve anything to do with music or theatre.  It might involve a world I know nothing about.  I've been trying to convince Hailey to continue with musical theatre.  I know it.  I understand it.  She's good at it.  And, I get it for half price.  She made the performing company which is a fortune and goes to the studio 10 hours a week. 

But what if it isn't her dream? 

Right now she thinks she wants to be an artist, but if we don't continue with Musical Theatre company I don't know that she'll ever make the team again.  An Artist.  I don't know if it's because she thinks art will be so fun and musical theatre is hard or if her heart truly isn't there.  I think it's easy to think of the greener grass, which is, for her right now, art.  I tell her that if she wants to quit, she has to tell me on performance days.  (She loves performance days.)  You can't make your decision on the hard work days, I tell her.  Because I know what will happen.  She'll become involved in art and she'll realize that it isn't all fun either.  What happens when her art teacher makes her draw spheres for an hour a day for 3 weeks solid?  Hard work days.  Will she still want to be an artist or will she miss performing? 

But then again... 

I was in the tub thinking on this very thing a few weeks ago and the idea came to my mind, "What if you never get to see the glorious piece of artwork that could come from your daughter's hands because you were too busy forcing her into a talent that you understood?"

The environment that we Utah County mothers have created is an interesting one.  And by interesting I mean strange, competitive, high pressure and frustrating.  If we don't have our kids in an extra-curricular hobby by 3, they won't ever make the teams later in life.  When I was in high school we had lots of the football players in our school plays.  Now, you can only be in the school play if you are in the "performing company."  What is THAT all about?  My nephew wanted to swim in High School and even though his mom is a swim coach and even though he is an awesome swimmer he couldn't have competed on the team because there are a limited number of spots to compete and he's only done recreation swim team, not year round.  How is it that we have created an environment where you have to decide what you want to be when you are barely out of diapers?  In other words, the PARENTS are deciding.  What about that girl who starts dating a drama guy and decides she'll give it a try and ends up as a Theatre Professor at BYU with a doctorate in the subject.  That's my friend Lindsay by the way.  In today's world Lindsay would never be Dr. Livingston, theatre professor because her mom didn't have her in a performing group at age 3.  Lindsay was a swimmer who dated a drama guy and got into the school play.  The rest, as they say, is history.

So what do I do, raise a jack of all trades who will never be excellent in any one thing?  I myself am a jack of all trades.  I admit that being good at many things and excellent in nothing also comes with its drawbacks.  I never feel a true sense of great accomplishment.  I'm a little bit of a writer.  A little bit of an actor.  A little bit of a Yogi.  A little bit of a singer.  A little bit of a gym rat.  A little bit of a reader.  A little bit of a sports nut.  A little bit of a chef.  Etc. etc. etc.  I am easily impassioned and great at nothing.  It's a killer to the self-esteem.  However, I can talk to anyone and have meaningful and deep conversations.  I know a lot about a myriad of topics.  I may not have become an expert in any of them but I've studied the heck out of a great many things.  I have a love for life.  New things and supping bits and pieces from many wells is what I do.  Right?  Wrong?  I don't know.  Just me. 

I've been excellent before.  I was a truly excellent actor once upon a time.  It was my thing.  But I gave it up for a better road for me; for a cause I believed in.  I haven't felt that exhuberent joy of excellence since.

(Here, Doug points out that my perfectionism prevents me from experiencing the joy of the things I'm a little bit good at.  A point well taken.)

If Hailey were bad at Musical Theatre it would be easy.  But she isn't bad at it.  She shines.  How do I let her stop shining? 

With Libby it's a bit easier (so far).  She is a dancer.  She's always wanted to dance.  I've known since she was 13 months old dancing in rhythm at Hailey's dance recital.  She talks about dancing EXCLUSIVELY.  My gosh, the girl choreographs dances for heaven's sake.  I understand that world.  I can get behind it.

I'm a great (well, mediocre) debater.  I could argue either side.  I have this fear that my adult children will come to me and say, "I wanted to be _____but you made me be______."  Likewise I fear, "I wish you would have made me stick______out.  I could have been great."

Wisdom, anyone?

Happy First Birthday Christian!

Dear Christian,

Today you are one year old.  One year.  How does it seem that you’ve been with me always?  My little son.  My baby son.  The joy of my life.

You are a content little soul.  You’ve been the best natured little baby.  You go with the flow and are very flexible.  You spend time in the car shuttling your sisters to and fro to their various activities with a pleasant spirit.  You don’t have high highs or low lows.  This contented nature has been a gift.  As contented as you are, you are the most stubborn boy!  You want what you want and there is no convincing you otherwise.  I’m so thankful you are a stubborn soul.  You demanded to be born!  What if you hadn’t?  What if I had given up?

You don’t love to sleep.  Part of the problem is your mamma that is all too happy to run to your side at the faintest peep.  So you’re a little spoiled…who cares!?!  You just started sleeping through the night last week and I’ve been exhausted for a year!   

You don’t love Broccoli and whenever you find a new food that isn’t your favorite you “generously” remove it from your mouth and try to force-feed those around you!  You love watermelon and grown up food in general.  You love squash and bananas.  You aren’t very good at your sippy cup.  You much prefer your “boobies” and it breaks my heart that this beautiful, bonding phase of breastfeeding is nearing its end.

You love baths but HATE getting changed or dressed, especially when it involves a shirt going over your head!  You love the sunshine and sitting on our trampoline watching the birdies fly by.   You love your blankie with the blue bears on it.  You love hugging your stuffed animals.  You love playing cars and dinosaurs.  Your nicknames include but are not limited to, bu-bu, bubbs, c-dog, c-c, bubbskin and beebee.

You love your family, and we all ADORE you!  Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Friends and of course your immediate family.  You have four people wrapped around your finger in this house.  Your face lights up whenever a different family member enter the room.  Your giggles are the sweetest.  Your sisters are your playmates and I know you’ve loved them for so much longer than this year.

Oh, your daddy.  Do you know how amazing it is to see him with you?  Our third child and yet it never gets old to watch him with his babies.  He loves having a little boy and feels like the luckiest guy to have you.  He can’t wait to include you with the girls on all of his Adventures.  He also can’t wait to teach you how to throw a ball, catch a fish, hike a mountain, be a man. 

Hi.  Hi was your first word (after dada and mama).  I have it recorded right after you said it.  It was exquisite.  How lucky I’ve been to experience all of these sacred firsts.  You play peek-a-boo and Patty Cake.  You blow kisses and wave.  You also shake your finger at me when I tell you no-no.  (Defiant little demon!)  You love waving to the bus as Libby goes by and squealing ee-ee when Hailey walks in the door in the afternoon.  Right now you are crawling, army crawling, pulling up to stand and walking around the furniture to get where you want to go.  Walking is just around the corner.  You are a menace!  One day last week you pulled a huge glass of water over, broke a candle on the tile floor, climbed up two sets of stairs, threw a container of cottage cheese onto the grocery store floor (which exploded everywhere), pulled down the fireplace screen, and dumped out my spice cupboard!  Yes, all in one day. 

You’re exhausting.  And yet, I fall into bed each night worn out from loving you and your sisters and feel so blessed.  You children are my first thoughts in the morning and you are the last thing I see on the backs of my eyelids as I fall asleep.

Thank you for this first year of life, my baby.  Thank you for being born.  Thanks and Praise be to God who heard the earnest pleadings of my heart.  The Doctors?  They all told us that No, you would never be.  They told me repeatedly.  Everyone gave up.  But you and I?  We knew differently, didn’t we?  We were persistent and stubborn and crazy and reckless.  You demanded to be born.  And I said I would make it happen.  It wasn’t easy.  It’s still painful to remember.  But that raw pain is eased with the salve of loving you every moment.   You are my miracle and I’ll love you always.  Happy Birthday Baby Son.

Love,

Mamma