Novato??? What the Heck is Novato?

Things got a bit easier as the twins grew big enough to sit and play in a borrowed playpen. They seemed happy to just sit and play together with their toys unless, of course, they both wanted the same toy at the same time. Jeanie and Debbie were now both in school for part of the day, and Kathi was still taking an afternoon nap which meant that, if I was lucky, the twins would go to sleep at the same time, and I could have an hour or so all to myself. But I'm sure that time was not spent taking a nap myself. There were other things I'd rather be doing than sleeping.

As I look back now at the Easter picture of my five little treasures all sitting together on the couch dressed in matching homemade dresses (and little suit for Jim), I wonder how on earth did I have the time to make all all those clothes. They were not simple dresses, either. Each dress was made of a different colored gingham check with a white pinafore over it. The pinafore was trimmed in matching check and had matching little flowers which were hand sewed on each pinafore. Each little girl had a matching gingham-covered head band except Shelly (as we called her) who had a matching bonnet. I made little Jim a blue gingham romper with a white vest and I purchased him a little boy's hat. I have to admit they looked pretty cute. But I still can't believe I had the time and patience for this project that now looks HUGE to me at age seventy-five. Oh, to be young again! I guess I know now what I did with that one hour or so that I had to myself each day.

It was the spring of 1962, when Jim received a notice of transfer from his company. We were to leave that summer for his new assignment to Hamilton Air Force Base in Novato, California.

I had never heard of Novato before, but was told that it was in the northern part of the state in between San Rafael and Santa Rosa. It was a good time to move because of the summer break from school and after looking on a map, it seemed a favorable place to be going. I had never been to that part of California, and that would be new adventure. We would be close to San Francisco with its' cable cars, China Town, and the Golden Gate Bridge. That was all exciting to me.

The company packed us up, and put all our things in storage until we could find a place to live. We stayed in a motel while looking. But it was that first night's stay in the motel that excited the children SO much, but scared me to death. As we headed toward our room that first night, it was getting pretty dark. Suddenly I saw things moving on the sidewalk ... lots of "things". I stopped dead in my tracks and the girls started squealing. What kind of town were me moving to?

More Challenges With Twins

It didn't take long before I realized I had new problems to solve having two babies. Without any of the new "necessary" baby equipment that is available today (carriers, newborn seats that can be moved around the house, "bouncy" chairs, swings that play music, bath equipment, etc. etc.), I had to be innovative or just plain frustrated. How do I have the babies in the same room where I was working, especially the kitchen, when they were awake. There was no place to lay them. The only way we had to set the babies down was to prop them in the corners of the couch and put a pillow in front of them so they wouldn't fall over.

And what about bath time? Since we had both babies on the same schedule, they both were bathed at the same time. Where would I lay one screaming baby while the other was being bathed and dressed? The only safe place was in the crib in another room which made for an even more unhappy baby. Daddy came to the rescue by building a double decker changing table which we placed in the kitchen where I bathed the babies in the sink. It was ingenious. I could lay one baby on the lower deck while I bathed the other then dressed her/him on the upper deck and visa versa. There was a shelf below the lower deck to hold diapers, clothes and bath accessories. It was GREAT!!.

Next problem: How do I get out of the house to take the children for a walk or to make an emergency trip to the grocery store. It was still summer and Jeanie and Debbie were still at home. We only had one car which Dad took to work. I had only a single stroller so I would have to push with one hand and carry the second baby in the other. But then how could I hang on to the other three children, especially the three-year-old. Imagine this sight: Me, holding a baby and pushing a stroller, a small child hanging on to my skirt, and two others holding hands and walking in front so I could see them. I'm sure I was a sight to behold. After one of these exhaustive trips to the store, and coming home in tears, I KNEW I had to have a double stroller no matter what the cost. Tears worked on Jim when he came home from work that I day and a twin stroller was ordered from the Sears catalogue, the only place that they were available. Even though the stroller was SO welcomed, it presented a few problems of its' own. The double seats were side by side, which made it very wide and hard to maneuver through single doorways of homes or stores. Yes, I wanted the stroller in the house at time just to have a place to set the twins so I could do other things. But the positive far outweighed the negative, so I never complained.

As that first fall and winter approached, and the weather became colder (even freezing), hanging the "massive" amount of laundry outside became a real problem for me. I couldn't drape washed clothes over the furniture to dry like I used to do in Utah. There was just too much. An automatic dryer now became an absolute necessity in my eyes. Money was still tight, but somehow we managed a monthly payment on a new dryer. What a blessing!

One more thing that was so difficult for me was bedtime without the help of Jim three or four nights a week. He would leave right after dinner to teach classes or take care of church responsibilities. Often that would leave me with dirty dishes in the sink, two crying babies, three little girls needing baths, teeth brushed, and story read before going to bed and one tired, frantic mom to deal with it all. Enter the picture my saving angel, Cheryl. Cheryl was a teenage neighbor girl whom we only knew by name. In desperation one bad night I called her on the phone and asked if I could hire her to come over and help me out. She came. She turned out to be one of those rare young adults who could see what needed to be done without being told and she just pitched in. She would pick up and soothe a crying baby, put the girls in the tub, wash a sink full of dirty dishes, play with or read to the girls, or whatever she saw was needed at the time. She was an answer to my urgent prayers. From then on, all I needed to do was call, even on a moment's notice and she was there. I wouldn't have survived those first six months without her. And she would never take a penny for her services. She was not a member of the Church, but she could have been the perfect role model for what we would like all of our young women in the Church to be. We kept in contact with her over the years and were thrilled to hear years later that she had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We were not surprised.

We survived the first year by:

1. buying a second crib when the twins got too big to sleep in the same crib

2. buying an Osterizer to make our own baby food when we realized how expensive it was

to buy ready-made food for two growing babies.

3. buying a new car, a VW bus, to accommodate our growing family.

4. teaching our three younger daughters to assume more and more responsibility

5. ....and nearly adopting Cheryl to be our personal "Nanny". She was truly my buoy in

stormy weather.

Happy Homecoming. A New Challenge Begins.

Three excited little girls welcomed home their new siblings, Jonita Rochelle, and James Richard Jr., We felt so blessed to be able to bring them both home on the same day. We were well equipped with the basic necessities for two newborns because of the "twin insurance" offered by Sears Roebuck and Co. If you had previously ordered a baby layette through their catalogue they would add a second comparable layette at no charge should you have twins. When the doctor confirmed that I was going to have twins, I quickly ordered the the largest layette in the catalogue. Holding true to their policy, Sears sent me a second one, the same as the first.

Once all of the girls had had their turn holding and gently caressing each baby, the initial excitement was over. Then reality quickly sent in. I had breast fed each of my preceding babies "on demand" and I planned to do the same with the twins. I had been assured by the nurses in the hospital that it was indeed possible to nurse two babies, and they even tried to show me how to feed them both at the same time. What a joke! I knew it would one at a time for me. But about this "on demand" thing became another joke. I soon found out that all I was doing all day was feeding babies. I tried to keep a record of who ate when to help me remember how often each of eating. This was just not working. With Jim's insistence we decided that the babies would be put on an eating schedule ... OUR schedule and that they would both eat at the same time, hungry or not. I think Jim was tired of hearing one or the other of them crying all night. That worked a lot better, even if it meant waking them up to eat. They soon adjusted to the schedule. However, this was the first time I had to depend on Daddy to help with the night feedings. I would feed one for a while, hand it to Jim to burp while I fed the other and then repeat the process. We both looked forward to the time when they would sleep through the night.

The other thing that became a challenge was the LAUNDRY... piles and piles of LAUNDRY!

There was no such thing as disposable diapers back then, and try to imagine doubling the amount of clothes that a baby can go through in a day. Now imagine laundry for three little girls and a husband added to that. And now imagine doing it all without a dryer. Everything had to be hung out on a line to dry. Then there was the folding of all those diapers and tiny baby clothes. My engineer husband invented a whole new way to fold diapers that made it easier for me to rinse out before washing. (Ask me sometime and I will show you how if we ever go back to cloth diapers.) I was grateful that we had at least an automatic washer, and I was even more grateful when Grandma Knapp came to help out for a while. I think I would have had a breakdown without her those first few weeks while I adjusted to my new busy life.

On the rare occasion that we took all of the children out for an afternoon, usually on Saturday when Dad was home to help, it was amazing how many people would stop us to see the twins.

They would see me carrying one and Jim carrying the other (no twin stroller) and would guess they were twin. Although one was always dressed in blue with a blue blanket and the other in pink with a pink blanket, it was even more amazing how many would ask if they were identical. Jim's sarcastic remark would always be, "No, one's a boy and one's a girl." Even then some would look a surprised by that statement and one even asked, "So what difference does that make? They still can be identical." I guess????

So began my life with five children from six years old to newborn, no family nearby, and a husband that was gone three evenings a week teaching, and another night at Mutual where he worked with priests.. I was pretty much on my own.

Out of the Hole!

It's time to get out of the negative and return to my happy life. It's been a tough two months dealing with my depression problems, but I feel I am now out of that deep black hole that only you who have been there can understand. Have I learned from this experience? Of course. Although I know that clinical depression is an illness similar to diabetes in that both are caused by a lack of certain necessary chemicals in the body to make it function properly, I came to realize that I have to have better strategies for handling stress in my life. Life is not without stress, but since too much of it can trigger an onset of major depression in those of us who suffer with with this mental illness, we have to avoid what we can and learn to deal with it in better ways. That is what I am focusing on now, and it has helped. In thinking back over the last six months or so there has been constant stress with no "recovery" time that led to my melt down. There were Jim's two knee surgeries and recovery times, Christmas (always somewhat stressful but manageable, and fun, if by itself), taking care of grandchildren (a little stressful because I realize that I don't have the energy, patience, and joints that I used to have), Mother's Day, (I've already explained that) and the then the "straw" that finally broke the camel's back (an old cliche) ... being called as Young Women's secretary. I had no idea of the responsibilities this calling required nor was I familiar with the "new" Young Women's program. I hadn't worked in that organization since I was in my twenties. AND I had always said that a secretary was one position I hoped I would never have. I just do not like a lot of paper work . Now I was faced with a stack of forms I needed to sort through, new forms to create on the computer and a lot of neglected records to update. I think it was all the computer work that got to me most ... computers and I do not have a very good relationship. All of this stress brought a "MELT DOWN", the like of which I hadn't experienced in years. None of these things by themselves would have caused a problem. It was just that they all followed ... bang, bang ... one after another without any recovery time.

Okay, I said I was going back to the positive, and I can do that now. With the help of my Savior and some conscientious effort on my part I am out of that hole and doing just fine. I'm eating better, trying to get more exercise (the hardest part since I our pool closed), getting more sleep, changing my priorities, and learning new ways to better handle stress. And would you believe I actually love my new calling? Now that I'm better organized, have all the necessary forms on the computer so I just have to fill out and update them (I can do that without Jim's help) the burden I was feeling has been lifted. I've gotten to know all the girls personally, and they are really great! I'm beginning to feel less and less like a fish out of water. I have a lot more self confidence. And I feel the girls have accepted me ... maybe even like me. It feels wonderful.

It would be neglectful of me if I did not say how grateful I am to my wonderful eternal companion who was and is so patient and understanding when I have an episode like this. He is the one that takes a lot of abuse and neglect, but somehow stays calm, patient, supportive and loving. I love you, Jim.

My next blog, back to my life story, "Three Little Girls Welcome Home Their New Siblings".

Sorry for this long "sidetrack".

Digging my hole deeper

I imagine that for most mothers Mother's Day is a favorite holiday. It would mean a day off from regular household duties, gifts, and maybe even breakfast in bed, that is if you have a husband like mine. He has always gone the "extra mile" to ensure my day would be special. That included making (yes, making) carnation corsages and boutonnieres for me and the children ... white for me and him and red for the children. A Mexican tradition designated a white flower if your mother was deceased and red if she were living.

So it would seem that I would love and look forward to Mother's Day. But to the contrary I hate that day. It may seen a little extreme to say "hate", and I guess it is. I guess "dislike" would be more accurate. "Why?", you ask. There are several reasons. First, I am uncomfortable being the center of attention and having others serve me. I'm a "dyed in the wool" Martha. I am much happier doing things for others than the reverse. Second, I don't need a special day to feel loved or appreciated. I have always gotten that from my children and husband all year round and often in spite of my not being the best mother in the world. I have always felt loved. Third, I hate the commercialism of the day. It really bothers me that the world dictates that to show love you have to give gifts. I hate for anyone to feel like they HAVE to give me a gift just because it's Mother's Day, my birthday, anniversary, or whatever, I'd much rather "feel" their love all year, and I do. The best gifts for me are the lives that my children live ... and a card with a sweet remembrance is also special.

But perhaps the strongest reason for my dreading this day is because it brings back discomforting memories that I have tried to put behind me over the past fifty-five years. I thought I had succeeded until this year. But I think because I was not my best self this year, suffering from a bout with depression, those memories crept back, just making me feel worse. What was that memory that has had such an effect on me the past fifty-five years? It dates back to our wedding day, Thursday, May 13. I never dawned on me until a year later that Mother's Day is always the Sunday after our anniversary. That meant that Mother's Day would have been the Sunday after we were married, and I guess I was so preoccupied with being a newlywed that I didn't go see her, send her gift, or even a card. I was oblivious to what day it was. And this was her last Mother's Day on earth. She died in October. I have felt terrible about that even though I know she would have understood why my mind was elsewhere that day. I know that Jim didn't remember his sister-in-law, Jean, either, who had been a mother to him for over six years. This year, that memory came back again with more than the usual amount of pain and that didn't help the depression. I was struggling to keep myself from crawling into that hole that I had been digging for myself. But I was determined not to let that happen. But there were still challenges that I needed to conquer.

The Long Climb Up

It's hard to know where to begin.   I realize how long it's been since I dumped my feelings of stress which was bringing me down to that dreaded depression to which I am so susceptible.  I realized that God much have known what was ahead for me when way back in March, maybe even in February, Cathy (Mortensen) called and asked if I would like to go to Women's Conference with her at the end of April.  I had told her definitely, "Yes", and Jim immediately made all the reservations for us both,  including our flights.  The conference was just a week after I received the call to Young Women's.  This gave me a chance to get away and "regroup" and hopefully get myself more spiritually prepared for what lay ahead.

As I mulled over the long list of available classes I started to gravitate towards those that were intended for the teenage sisters thinking that they might help me better understand the problems and challenges of young people today.  Surely that would help me in my new calling.  But then I thought, "No.  I need to take classes that would strengthen ME."  That was the right decision.  The whole spirit of the conference was very uplifting, and just being with so many special sisters and listening to the church leaders who spoke really gave me the spiritual boost that I needed.  But the two classes that helped me the most were, "Happiness is Our Heritage" (happiness is difficult, if not impossible, to find when you are depressed) and "Then Will I Make Weak Things Become Strong" (I was really feeling my weaknesses right now) taught by Brad Wilcox.  I came back renewed and ready to face the challenges which were before me ... or so I thought.  Then came Mother's Day.

The Ups and Downs in Life

I thought I might divert from my personal life history for a minute since I have my twins home safely from the hospital and I didn't leave everyone "hanging" in my last blog.  The past few weeks have been a series of ups and downs, highs and lows, and just plain crazy.  I feel that my expanding on a few of these feelings and emotions may give my readers some insight into my nature, personality, and thought patterns.  I know that some of the things I have experienced the past few weeks have led me on this the roller coaster of emotions.

     I think it all began when I was called to be the secretary of the Young Women's organization in the church.  I was not excited about this calling.  I never wanted to be a secretary.  In fact I had said all my life that I never wanted to be a secretary of ANYTHING. I didn't like to do the work a secretary is required to do nor did I have the skills to do it.  And that was before the days of computers.  That made it even worse as computers and I do not have a very good relationship.  To top it all off, I hadn't worked in Mutual (that is what it used to be called) for fifty years, and was only vaguely familiar with the new program.  I had worked in Relief Society most of my life with a few breaks to work with the Primary children.  I was very comfortable there even when it required a fair amount of work.  But I accepted the calling mostly because the new Young Women's president was one of my favorite people, we have been counseled by our leaders to never turn down a calling.  Just to let you know, I have not always followed that counsel.  I have turned down a few callings.  

  

     Then came the flood of forms, reports, documents, rolls, budgets, birthdays, e-mails, records of all kinds to keep track of, agendas to prepare, minutes to take, phone calls to make (I hate to make phone calls), lots of computer work including using the church computer to pull up records, keeping track of Personal Progress records, meetings and more meetings ... the list goes on and on!  I felt totally overwhelmed and drowning in paper work.  And then there were the doubts that a 75 year "old lady" would ever be able to relate to today's teens.  The last secretary was a young woman who is just expecting her first baby, and the girls loved her.  She was really involved personally with the girls.  How could I compete with that?  The stress just got worse and worse and I felt depression coming on.  Stress is a known trigger for depression even for someone like me who is on medication for clinical depression (lack of certain "feel good" chemicals in the brain).  Even though I received encouraging and supportive words from my family, I still felt like was sliding down a very slippery hill.

This was the beginning of the downward spiral.  Then came an "upper" which made me realize that God had been aware of this challenge I would have months before it actually came and had prepared a plan to help me through it.