Perfectionist?

I'm sure that you along with me I grew up with the old adage, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing well". I know my parents quoted that to me very often, and I grew up believing it. My parents didn't lie. Then many years later at Jeanie's graduation from college, the commencement speaker gave a talk part of which has stayed with me until this time. How unlikely is that for a usually long and boring speech? In fact, I was so impressed that a I sent away for the talk. The part that I remember and that made me begin rethinking my initial view was when he said: "Not everything you do should require your best effort", and then he began elaborating as to why. His reasoning made a lot of sense to me. He said that we need to prioritize by importance what should require our best efforts and what should not. Not everything that is worth putting forth our best efforts. But how do we differentiate between the two? Those who have to do everything perfectly suffer from a lot of anxiety and stress which is common among those "perfectionists". They are not usually happy people.

This month our Relief Society and Young Women undertook a humanitarian project making T-shirt dresses for little girls in Africa. The sisters and girls were excited and totally supportive of this project. They donated enough T-shirts and fabric to make a total of eighty-two dresses. We were unable to finish all the dresses in one night of sewing, so the sisters took the rest home. Because I was in charge of this project, all the dresses were returned to me. Most of the sisters did a beautiful job sewing the dresses, but there were some which obviously had been done very sloppily without much care. That really bothered me, because one of those sewers bragged about she had been sewing since she was fourteen and was now even selling some of her work on line. It seemed obvious to me that she didn't feel the dresses for these destitute children were of enough importance to give them her best efforts. In fact, I heard her say, "The children will be so grateful just to have a new dress that they won't really care if the sewing isn't perfect". Her work didn't even come close to perfect.

As I sat ripping out the work of that sister and remaking those ten dresses I thought to myself, "Am I such a perfectionist that I need these dresses to be at least as well made as those I would make for my own family? Maybe this sister is right. The children won't really care. I should just appreciate the fact that she was willing to take dresses home to finish. Is it just the perfectionist in that makes me sit here hour after hour redoing all of her work? I am aware that I have always been one of those (a perfectionist) but have since that graduation talk tried to evaluate how much time and effort a task is worth giving. And I also realize that as I get older I tend to slip backwards in my effort to make rational decisions. I enjoy having a neat, clean, organized home because now without children in the home, I can. But that really isn't that important when I consider how easy it can become an obsession in that there are days that I am too tired to do the work and stress about letting it go. That is just one example.

In my own mind this project was important enough to me to give it my best efforts. And I did. But I also had to redo those that were really bad. Was this something that was worth doing, but not worth the extra time and effort I put into it. Or am I just a hopeless obsessive perfectionist?

The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Ugly

The second semester of Jim's third year had just begun. He was enjoying this year because he was well into his major, electrical engineering. He was already familiar with much of the material he was now studying because of his four years of training and experience in the Air Force. However, of the 250 students who were accepted into the Electrical Engineering Department with Jim, less than 100 remained...and they were the very smart ones. So there was a lot of competition for grades. Only 63 actually graduated.

It was in February of that year (1957) that I woke up each morning not feeling too well. I was pretty familiar with that symptom, so when the doctor told me I was pregnant, I was not too surprised...just a little concerned about how we were going to pay for another baby. I was excited, too. Just the thought of God trusting me with another of his special spirits brought a lot of joy to my heart. And the most wonderful thing was that Jim was happy, too. He didn't seem concerned that another mouth to feed would be a burden. If he was, he surely didn't show it. He was more concerned that my breathing problems had become worse and felt it was time for me to see a specialist. Reluctantly, I agreed.

The news wasn't good. The doctor said he had never seen a nose as bad as mine. Not only did I have huge polyps in both nostrils, but the septum (the cartilage that separates the nostrils) had at some time been broken and was also preventing air from going through my nose. Surgery took care of both problems and for the first time that I could remember air could pass through my nose. It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt. It was as if I had holes in my head and air was rushing through. It took a while for me to get used to it. How we ever paid for that surgery I don't remember, but I only know it was worth it.

I was still recovering from the surgery when my little brother (not so little any more) came to us to see if he could borrow a small amount of money. He had graduated from high school and had been working during the summer so he could start college in the fall. He needed to register and pay his tuition, but he was short a little bit. You may wonder why he didn't go to my dad who, for sure, had more money than us. First of all, he hadn't had a very good relationship with Dad and Teun (his new wife) during those difficult teenage years and second, Dad was not big on higher education. He just didn't feel it was necessary if you were willing to work hard. And if you wanted an education...fine, but it would be with no help from him. On the other hand, Jim and I felt education was really important so we gave him the money. I don't have a clue how we came up with it, but we did. The result of that decision ruined the rest of my summer.

A few days after giving J.D. the money my dad called me. He was furious! He yelled at me, swore at me, and told me to mind my own business...which didn't include my brother. I was devastated and called Jim at work just sobbing. Jim tried to calm me down on the phone by assuring me that Dad didn't mean what he had said, but I could tell he was really upset. About an hour later my Dad called again, and all he said was, "Well, your husband just said I couldn't talk to you anymore, so this is the last time you'll hear from me." And he hung up. Now I was a basket case as I called Jim to find out what had happened. I sensed correctly that he had been upset by what I had told him. Actually, "upset" was too mild a word. He was downright angry, and even though he was only twenty-four years old at the time, he was ready to take on his father-in-law without hesitation. He had called my dad back and told him in no uncertain terms to never talk to me like that again. And if he called me again it had better be with an apology. Obviously when my dad called me again it definitely was not with an apology. It was "I'll never talk to you again." Even though it was quite a while before he did, I think on that day Dad acquired a lot of respect for Jim. Just to know that his daughter had a husband who would stand up for her and protect her had to be a comfort. I think it would have been a comfort to any father.



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We're Halfway There

We had reached the half-way mark of Jim's college education and we knew now that we could finish. We both had the determination not to quit no matter how difficult the challenges would become. I know I have talked about some of the difficulties I faced, but I know Jim probably faced even more even though he never complained. Someday I hope I can convince him to write about his own thoughts and feelings at this time. As I look back, I don't know how he did all that he did to support the family, do all the school work that was required, and still remain sane...and maintain a positive attitude.

Did I help Jim with his homework to take away some of the pressure? Only once. It must have been in his freshman year when he had to take an English class. English is usually not a male's favorite class, and it certainly wasn't Jim's. But it was required so he struggled through it. But when he was required to read the book "Billy Bud" and write a themed report on it, he just didn't have the time or the writing skills (so he thought) to finish this project. Even though I had never read the book, he asked me to help him. He hadn't read the whole book either, so we just skimmed over it together, shared ideas about we thought the theme was, and I wrote the paper. He was thrilled to get a "B" on the paper, and frankly, so was I. After that, things just got to technical in all of his class so I wouldn't have been able to help him if he asked. But he never did.

Some memories of that that third year in school include:

• Jeanie's love for her new little sister. She constantly piled her toys on top her when she was awake.
• Jim's first display of his creative ability when he turned an old army bunk bed (one he slept in as a teen) into a bed when Debbie got too big for the cradle and needed Jean's crib. He made a padded head board that was curved and scalloped to make it more "girlish".
• Jeanie getting so lethargic and just lying around on the floor. We took her to the doctor because we thought she was ill only to discover that it was because she missed her daddy. His schedule had changed and he was not longer able to come home for lunch at noon when he would always play with her for a few minutes. The doctor assured us that children were very versatile and quick to adjust to new situations, and Jeanie did. She was soon back to her old happy self.
• Going to church alone when Jim had to work. It was no fun juggling two little ones by myself. No one seemed to notice my struggles nor offered to help.
• Working as a member of the "Homemaking Board" of Relief Society where we did a lot of crafts back then. I had to come up with a ideas and then implement them. It was so difficult because it required that I purchase materials ahead of time and I just didn't have the money or the transportation to be able to do that. Sisters would pay back the money at the activity (sometimes) but I just didn't have the money to put out up front.
• Working in the nursery during Relief Society, a paid position, to bring in a little extra money. R.S. was held on a week day.
• A once-in-while treat of a Dairy Queen sundae when Jim had a rare night off.
• A New Year's Eve "celebration" when Jim returned home from work. I wanted to celebrate with him in some way. So I set up a table in the living room with a table cloth and candles, turned on the TV to watch the New Year arrive across the country, and snack on the only "snackable" food I could find in the house...saltine crackers and avocado. It turned out to be a humble but romantic evening for us. I always used to wonder how poor people could really be happy. I learned how that evening.
• But the most wonderful but scary event happened in February of that third year.
  

STAY TUNED!!!

Financial Struggles

Doing the laundry for my family always seemed to be a challenge in my life. Now with two "babies" (age 16 months and newborn) in diapers there was always lots of washing to be done. And living in a second story apartment with stairs on the outside and a second set of stairs to get to the basement where the washing machine was presented a new challenge for me. Just getting down there with all the laundry and with two little ones could be a nightmare. Do you take the baskets of dirty clothes down first and leave the children alone upstairs for a few minutes, or do you take the children down first and leave them alone in the basement while you run up the stairs and bring down the laundry? Not much of a choice. And Jim was gone from 7:30 in the morning to 11:30 at night except for when he was able to come home in between school and work for lunch. Fortunately, Jim was able to arrange his class schedule that next semester so he could come home each day and carry the clothes down for me. However, once we got everyone and everything in the basement, there was still the challenge of keeping track of the the one-year-old and oft times listening to a crying baby tucked in the buggy that I kept in the basement while I tried to get the washing done. I dreaded wash day which was usually every other day. And in the winter it was there were even more difficulties which I'm sure you can imagine.

The next two years of school were difficult, but Jim and I were adjusting to the long days of being without much of each other's company. He did come home for lunch (which I made dinner) each day, and that was great. But that one meal was usually all that we could afford each day (except for breakfast), so I always made sure there was enough left over to feed the children at night, and hopefully some for me. But there were many times that I did not eat. If Jim had been aware of that he would have quit school, and I knew it. But I suspect that maybe he at least thought that my not eating was a possibility because he would often bring a sandwich home which he bought in the cafeteria for twenty-five cents to share with me. The workers in the cafeteria knew Jim's situation and would stack the meat on those sandwiches at least double, I'm sure. So we would take it apart and make two good-sized ones. That was dinner for both of us.

Having enough money to pay all the bills was always a problem. Since I handled the finances at this time I had to decide each month who got paid and who would have to wait. I tried to rotate between the "receivers" and the "waiters" each month so as to hopefully not damage our credit rating too much. And I tried hard to not overspend our very limited food budget. That was not always easy, and there were times that I said a prayer then walked to the store looking for soda bottles I could redeem or loose change that someone may have dropped in order to have enough money to buy needed milk for the children. And it wasn't unusual if, at the end of the month our funds had run out, for us to drop by Jesse and Jean's home for a "visit". I think they knew that we needed to be invited to stay for dinner even though never a word was spoken about our need. And if we ran out of gas money before the end of the month Jim could always go to Jesse's work where they had a gas pump for their trucks and get gas he could charge to Jesse. We always tried to pay back for that gas, but most of the time he would not let us pay. How blessed we were to have such sensitive family. And how blessed we were that Jim had type O blood which he could sell at the hospital for $25.00 which he did as often as they would let him to bring in some extra money. Twenty-five dollars would go along way back then. And I can''t overlook the fact that my Aunt Dorothy who lived in Los Angeles would go into the garment district and buy big boxes of fabric. She would keep the larger pieces and send me the smaller pieces from which I made all of the children's clothes for the four years we were in school... except for the winter coats which I made from old adult coats that people gave to us.

During the second year of school, Jim spent free moments at work learning about the oxygen equipment in the hospital. So when a respiratory technician was needed he was able to step in. No more mopping floors! With a little more training he learned to be a respiratory therapist and had his own office. Since much of his work was on an "on call" basis, he now had some free time to study at work...and he now made a few cents more an hour. More blessings!

Those years in school taught us both so many lessons which helped us throughout our whole married life. I'm still great at handling money even though after we finished school I turned the finances over to Jim. And I so learned to appreciate having a husband around to help with the children. But most important of all, I learned how the Lord steps in and helps in so many small ways that could easily be unnoticed and unappreciated if all is going well. I have found that going through difficult times teach the greatest lessons and develop the character we need to make it through this life. I am truly grateful for all my challenges.

New Moms Have It "Easy"

Having spent time last month with two of my daughters (Lea and Carrie) who had just had new babies made me reflect on how much things have changed since my own little ones were born. First of all, the normal hospital stay was three days. Now, barring no complications, you are home in one. I guess this was a good thing for me because I had no one to help me once I got home. We were instructed by hospital nurses to make sure we put our babies on a strict schedule once we were home. They should not be allowed to eat oftener than three hours and not past four. If they were screaming before the three hours we could give them a little water sweetened with a little Karo syrup. The bottles used had to be meticulously sterilized. That meant boiling all bottles, nipples, pacifiers and anything that went in the baby's mouth. We had a special kettle that were designed just for that purpose.

The pacifier of my day was a regular nipple from a baby bottle stuffed with cotton. Babies were to be bathed every day and were to be placed on their tummies to sleep. Since there was no such thing as a disposable diaper, our cloth ones were to be washed daily, if possible, and only in Ivory Snow or Dreft (mild soaps). And it was recommended that they be soaked in bleach before washing to disinfect them. All other baby clothes were to be washed separately in the same mild soap. Since all clothes had to be hung out to dry (no dryers on the scene yet) they didn't come in very soft and fluffy. It helped if we had a good wind blowing on washday. In the winter it was common for the clothes to freeze on the line, so I had to bring them in and drape them on furniture all over the house to dry them.

New babies had to wear "belly bands" around their tummies until the cord fell off. They would never stay in place, and the little shirts were the cross-over ones with ties that usually just rode up around the neck....no "onesies" or shirts that went on over the head. Babies wore night gowns with draw strings at the bottom night and day. They were not dressed up unless you were going out, and "going out" with the baby was highly discouraged until six weeks. (I didn't follow that rule very much. And you know what? I don't ever remember my babies getting sick much either.)

As for furniture and accessories that are so helpful for moms these days, there was practically nothing; no changing tables, no carriers, no swings, no car seats, no little bouncy seats that play music and make soothing sounds to place them in while you worked around the house (I'm sure they must have a name), no walkers, no intercoms and no fancy strollers (only the umbrella kind which were just new and expensive. I could go on and on. What I had in those early years as a young mom were: a week's worth of clothes and diapers with "soakers" or plastic pants to go over them, blankets, a crib and a second hand "buggy" which was like a cloth bed on wheels with a handle to push. It was used like a stroller is used today to take babies for walks. It had a "hood" which raised up to protect from the sun. That was it. If we wanted to take babies with from room to room we would just take a blanket and lay them on the floor. In the living room we would prop them up in the corners of the couch and put a pillow in front of them. Playpens were available, but we never had one until our twins were born. When the baby was old enough there were jumping swings that attached to a door frame. Someone loaned me one of those, and it was a godsend. My little ones loved to jump in that swing.

Somehow, all of our children survived, or better said, I survived without all those special things that help young moms today. I'm especially grateful that our children survived all the traveling in a car without seat belts or car seats. It seemed I always had a baby or toddler on my lap as we drove. That's kind of scary as I look back. Helps for a new mom have come so far these days, as has the concern for the safety of children. That is good. But at times I wonder if we have gone a little overboard as to what think are "necessities" for new babies. With a little creativity we didn't do so bad taking care of our children in the fifties. And it surely was a lot cheaper! I can hardly conceive of what life must have been for pioneer mothers.

We Are Blessed....Again!

I think that first semester of school was the hardest for both of us. It took us those first four months to get used to a totally new schedule and for Jim to get used to the rigors of studying, taking classroom notes, and doing projects after a four-year absence from school. But by February of 1955, the beginning of the new semester, I began to feel even more stressed. Being in that dark apartment all day and night alone was really getting to me, and I just fell apart every time that /#*! washer flooded the basement. And to top it all off, I was just not feeling well. I was throwing up every morning. You guessed it. I was pregnant! My first thought was, "That's the end of school. We have no insurance and barely enough money just to keep us housed and fed." But fortunately my second thought was, "That is just not going to happen. Quitting school is not an option. Somehow, we will figure it out."

I did have one option, a necessary option for me, and that was finding a new place to live. I knew that wouldn't be easy on our limited budget, but we at least had to try. After much searching we found an apartment located on the second floor of an older home. It had stairs on the outside of the house leading to the apartment, and being upstairs with lots of windows it was so light. I loved that. But there was one problem, the $85.00 a month was beyond our budget. As we were talking to the landlord their two Weimaraner dogs came up to us and began sniffing. Jeanie, who was fascinated by those two big dogs, walked right up to one of them, got nose to nose with it and said, "Woof, woof". That just melted the heart of the landlord who said, "We just have to have that little girl in our apartment. What can you afford to pay?" The price was lowered to $65.00 and we moved in. I loved that apartment. But there was one problem. Our previous two apartments had come furnished, and this one didn't. All the furniture we owned was a television set, the little desk I had bought Jim for Christmas, and a crib for Jeanie. Thanks to Grandma Knapp who gave us an old couch and a round oak table with claw legs and matching chairs, and to my Dad who gave us my mother's old bedroom set, we had furniture. I wish I still had that beautiful oak table. It would certainly be a collectible heirloom now. And we used that old bedroom set for the next fifteen or more years.

Another great thing about that apartment was that it was within walking distance of a grocery store AND a park with a lake, an aviary, and a carousel where I could take Jeanie and her new little sister, Debbie, who was born that July. I didn't even mind having to haul the children, groceries, and laundry up and down that long flight of stairs. And I was actually glad to get back to doing the laundry in an "old-fashioned" wringer washer located down a second flight of stairs in the basement. I knew that washer could not overflow and flood the basement.

If you're wondering how we managed to pay the bills for a new baby, again we knew that God was looking out for us. When we began looking for a doctor, we discovered that my mother's doctor who had treated her for over twenty years before her death had a son who was an OB-GYN. Because he also knew of my mother and because Jim was a full time student, he only charged us $50.00 for his services. The hospital also gave us a discount because Jim was and employee. I don't remember how much our bill was, but by comparison with hospital costs today it was very minimal. Although the customary hospital stay for childbirth was three days, the doctor let me come home in just one because he was aware of our circumstances. And that summer Jim was able to pick up a second part time job during school break supervising the delivery of telephone books in the Salt Lake area. Getting the supervisory job when he applied for a job delivering the books was another small miracle. It paid more. With this extra money we were able to pay off all the "baby" bills. And, he was able to keep that same summer job for the next three years.

We could really see the Lord's hand in our lives this year as we were blessed with a new little girl, Deborah, blessed with a a new bright apartment, blessed to be able to stay in school and still meet all our financial obligations, and best of all, blessed with a happier me. We were even able to afford a small Christmas tree that year. Nineteen fifty-five was indeed a special year when our testimonies really grew!

Our School Life Begins

It took us several months to get used to our new schedule, and we began to realize just what sacrifices we would have to make. For Jim, it was getting used to studying again, finding time to study, working hard until 11:00 at night when he was dead tired, and not being at home enough to watch the new things his little girl would do almost daily as she developed new skills. For me it was hardly ever seeing Jim except for a very short time in the afternoon between school and work, never having a "baby break" when Dad could take over for a while, and having to be alone all day and night in a very depressing apartment.

But perhaps one of the most unexpected and frustrating difficulties I had to face was the washing machine I had to use in our new apartment. I should have been thrilled to have use of one of the first automatic washers on the market...a Bendix front loading machine. Only the rich could afford one at this time, and our landlady was fairly wealthy. Her name was Evelyn Wood, the inventor of the first speed reading program which she had developed. She was an educator, very well known and much in demand to teach schools and organizations how to use her new method...at a fee, of course. She may have been very smart, but she was a lousy landlord (lady). Anyway, back to the washing machine. It was located in a section of the basement not occupied by our apartment and where we had a storage closet. So what was the problem? The problem was that occasionally the door of washer would come unlatched from the vibrating of the machine, and water would flood the basement. The first time it happened I thought that I must not have locked the door completely, and I was devastated. I swept the water from the flooded basement to the drain the best I could and opened all the basement windows to help dry things out. All the things I had stored in the closet were soaked, including some boxed wedding gifts, books, documents, and memorabilia that were important to me. I was scared to death what Sister Wood (she was a member of the Church) would say. Needless to say she was not happy. After this happened two or three more times I KNEW it wasn't my fault because I was so careful to make sure the door was locked securely. But I surely spent a lot of time crying as I mopped up the mess gain and again.

The first Christmas in that apartment was pretty bleak. We couldn't afford a Christmas tree nor decorations to trim one. Jeanie's only gift from Santa was a stuffed animal, Tramp, from Walt Disney's movie, "Lady and the Tramp". We spent some time with Grandma Knapp, Dad and Teun, and Jesse and Jean just to get us more in the holiday spirit. At least they had Christmas trees...and they all had gifts for Jeanie. But the thing that made this Christmas special and memorable to me was that I was able to surprise Jim with a small desk on which he could study. I had saved nickles and dimes from grocery money over the past six months, and with the influence of my dad on the furniture store owner who was a personal friend, I was able to get a great deal on the desk. As I look back now it was a pretty cheap (and I don't mean just in dollars), but at the time I thought it was pretty wonderful. That desk has since been used for many purposes, including a sewing table for me.

Jim made it through his first semester with reasonable grades considering he had taken mostly required (and not too interesting to him) subjects. And I had survived my first four months as a "widow" by taking long walks with Jeanie and talking to neighbors. We only had one car so I couldn't go anywhere. But even though at times I felt depressed and lonely, I tried to be "up" and positive when Jim came home. I wanted him to feel loved and supported in what he was doing. And by comparison he was sacrificing much more than me. He has since told me that if I had complained about our situation or lack of material things he would have quit school in an instant and gone to work to support us better. He also said that he could have easily used that as an excuse for him to quit when things were tough for him and he really wanted to give it all up. But he had too much pride to take the blame.

What kept us both going was the knowledge that an education would make a difference in what we could provide for our family in the future. And that was worth it!