december phone picture dump!

for my facebook friends, these pictures will be a repeat, but i've got to get them on the blog before i delete them off of my phone.

caleb was asked to sing for our stake baptism day....he did a solo, sang two verses of a song and rocked it.  he told me he wasn't even nervous.  takes after his dad this way--definitely doesn't come from me.  we went out for a cinnamon roll to celebrate afterward.  i love his little face.

took the kids to home depot and thought i was in for another harrowing experience at a store that wasn't very kid-friendly.  what they lack in exciting things for kids to look at,

they make up for in awesome carts.  we were stuck in a line for about 40 minutes,

and the girls were occupied the whole time....

june with her road rage, 

leah with pretending all of the wood and tools were her dolphin friends.

caleb at his christmas program.  i knew he had a couple of speaking lines,

but was really surprised when he stood in front of the microphone 

and sang an entire song

with the rest of the 2nd graders singing in the background behind him.

during the night program, two of the kids in his group didn't show up, 

so his teacher asked if he could say their lines too.  

ben took videos of him while trying to wrangle the girls at the same time.  

{i was at my work christmas party that night & had gone to the morning show}

the shortest kid of the bunch,

but that doesn't let him slow him down one bit.  so proud of this boy.

leah displaying a half-moon while playing at the park.

the kids at the dentist.  cavity free!

one really fun saturday:

the most delicious breakfast i've ever eaten with andrea,

then lunch & shopping with my lovely cousin,

then a date night with benjamin.

i felt like i ate my way through the day.

leah after her preschool field trip to the fire station.

she told me she was never going to take off the hat,

then 5 seconds after i took this picture she snapped herself in the face

with the elastic and got so mad that she yelled, 

"I'M NEVER GOING TO BE A FIRE FIGHTER EVER AGAIN!'

i couldn't stop laughing, which only made things worse.

caleb wrote a story about a "bad day."

and it looks like he's pretty traumatized 

about one day leah scratched his face so hard it bled.

he conveniently left out the part of the story 

when he tried to drag her across the backyard by her ankles

which was why she scratched him in the first place.

moral of the story?  

my kids really love each other.

classic soap-spiked hair in the tub picture.

little miss sunshine.  and her amber teething necklace.

{which really does work, in case you were wondering.}

every morning i have a fruit & protein shake,

and these little mongrels come running as soon as the blender starts up.

we each get a straw, and drink down the glass

in about 30 seconds.

spent veteran's day with a surprising day off for ben,

and decided to make the most of it

joining some friends for a hike,

coming face to face with an enormous tarantula

where i tried not to wet my pants in front of everyone.

and where i finally admitted that 

arizona is kind of pretty.

june in the morning.  i love this picture.

leah in the morning.  i love this one too.  

leah is kind of picky about when she wants to show physical affection, 

so when it's offered i eat it up. 

and i love that she was wrapped around my arm and didn't want to let go.

when june wakes up from her nap in the afternoon, 

we spend time just playing in her room.  

her favorite place to play?  sitting in her toy drawers.

a couple of weeks ago we got together with two of my friends from high school, 

matt & marielle & their families.  

after they left, i realized how rare it is to not only keep in touch with people for that long,

{i've known matt since...3rd grade?  i think?  we've been friends since 9th grade.  and marielle and i have been friends since 10th grade.}

but also to genuinely like the people they have turned out to be.  

and like their spouses and kids!

it was a fun night.

we joined in a baby-sitting swap with some families in our ward,

so once a month we watch 13-15 kids for 3 hours.  

to break up the time, we took them to a park one night & a hot air balloon appeared.

ben had the idea to lay the kids down to spell out "HI" 

and they all started chanting

"LAND-RIGHT-HERE!"

caleb started physical therapy again,

we're trying to re-train his body to strengthen certain muscles that have been weak.

and then re-correct other muscles that have been compensating for the weakness.

you know that competitive nature he was born with?

this is where it's channeled & put to good use.

just an afternoon playing in the backyard with the kids.

the bottom right corner picture is where june randomly smacked leah in the back.

she takes out a lot of her aggression on her older sister, we're working on that.

my home-made version of this sign,

made out of a big framed canvas that i bought for $3 from a yard sale.

june's obsessed with sun glasses, especially mine.

she's also obsessed with sweeping,

she'll randomly pick up the broom throughout the day and go to work.

i do everything i can to encourage this to continue.

during one of our date nights, 

we brought june with us because the couple watching the other kids

just had a baby, and we knew june would be a lot on top of the rest of the bunch.

we had a great time going out to dinner with her, then decided to push our luck

and took her to target to shop for christmas pj's.

an enormous tantrum ensued, she was literally shrieking her way through the store.

so ben tried to console her, validating that he feels the same way 

whenever he enters target.

i laughed and took pictures.

the kids love the trampoline, 

i love their crazy, static-y hair.

leah's imagination continues to go full force.

one night i thought she was totally asleep,

when she suddenly came out of her room wearing a basket and some 

toy bungee things on her hands.  she announced that she was a turtle and  needed to go potty,

and she knew she needed to go because her "shell" 

felt like it was full of pee.

june's new trick.  i love her legs.

on another date, ben and i were grabbing something at a gas station,

and we found this "VOSS" water.  that word is an inside joke with ben's family,

so we snapped a picture with me trying to look sophisticated next to

what is apparently supposed to be some really delicious, extremely over-priced water 

and sent it to them.

one afternoon my friend lisa came over & did my hair...

and while it was setting i had to pick up caleb from school,

so away i went, shower cap and all.

i have no pride.

and here's my hair after the shower cap....

somehow i grew a unibrow and mustache during the ordeal.

took caleb on a date mini-golfing and out for pizza.

my favorite gift under the tree so far.

and that's it!!  

are you ready for christmas?

i know we are!

turn to stone.

not sure what it is, but every time i listen to this song,

i cry.

it hits something deep down for me, where there is loss and sadness but also beauty through pain.  letting go, surrendering, saying good-bye

but never losing hope.

i know that probably doesn't make sense to anyone but me,

and that's okay.


the shooting in connecticut has brought a roller coaster of emotions.  heartbreak, devastation, helplessness,
which has now turned into

such an overwhelming desire 
to
fight.

and to teach my children 
now, 
more than ever
to fight.

lynsey of 3 years ago would have immediately withdrawn any and all children from school and quickly learned how to homeschool.  burying their little heads into my shoulders, wrapping my arms around them, whispering into their soft hair, promising i will keep them safe at all costs.

but there is no guarantee of safety, really.
we cannot control all things, and it wouldn't be living if we could.  i would just be fooling myself,
living a life of fear, and teaching my children to do the same.

lynsey of today wants to turn her beautiful and innocent children around, facing whatever storm is coming together.  holding hands, and telling them to never give up.  to not let the ugly seep fear into our hearts.  to remind them that the more we fight that fear, the stronger our courage grows.

it is a fight that looks like
a belief that good can and 
always will
prevail.  
even through such dark, twisted moments
that threaten to swallow us if we let them.


but wanting my children to see the good
even if it's the smallest, tiniest sliver
of it.
finding love, humanity, worth, happiness.
and let that carry them through the darkness.


and i have learned many times, 
that the things that i want most for them
are the things that i need to
be willing to do for myself.

so i will cry,
and mourn for those children.
their teachers.
their parents.
their siblings.
their friends.

i will cry for the man
who let the darkness swallow him.
a man who gave up.
i will cry for his mother.

and then i will dry my tears,
stand,
face my children outward,
squeeze their small hands,
telling them to keep their hearts soft,
to use their light to combat the dark
and to never stop trying
to fight for the good.

and never lose hope.


Let's take a better look
beyond a story book
And learn our souls are all we own
before we turn to stone

Let's go to sleep with clearer heads
and hearts too big to fit our beds
And maybe we won't feel so alone
before we turn to stone

finding the worth of a soul. {on mormon feminism and wearing THOSE PANTS!!}

I grew up feeling unequal and unworthy.  Feeling less than.  

Was it unequal specifically to men?  No, the inadequacy I felt had no boundaries, did not differentiate between race, color, gender, religion.  It was all encompassing and all-consuming.  

I have mentioned before that I also grew up believing that God's unconditional love did not apply to me.  That somehow I was missed, skipped over unnoticed, or did not deserve it.  I mention this again to talk about a different aspect of the places of my life--specifically in my LDS religion--where this idea and belief was affected.  

My religion is thick with culture.  One of my friends in high school was not Mormon and I remember his religion being the topic of conversation once, or maybe twice a year.  On Christmas and then occasionally on Easter.  This wasn't because we weren't open to talking about it, but more because these were the only times he would actually talk about attending his church.  As a young girl, I couldn't grasp the concept that religion did not mean giving of your entire life to dedicate to it.  Sundays were sacred and focused specifically on God and Jesus--whether it was attending a meeting to talk about Him, or following up those hours after the meetings to listen to music about Him, read articles and books written about Him, and spend the day thinking and doing as He did.  And it didn't stop on Sundays.  Throughout the week I attended family activities, meetings, and group service projects.  What I'm saying is this: as a Mormon, the religion becomes a way of life.

I also grew up fearing God.  Don't get me wrong, I think a little dose of God-fear can do a soul some good, but I took it to a place of unhealthy.  I was raised in a very black and white world:  don't consume alcohol, don't smoke, don't do drugs, don't have sex before you get married.  No rated R movies, don't date until you're 16, and moderation in all things.  Forgive 70 times 70, turn the other cheek, strive for perfection.  Wear skirts to the knees, one-piece swimming suits, and no swearing.  The list continues on.  I believed that if I--or anyone that I associated with--went against any of these rules, that it meant they were bad.  Naughty.  Rotten to the core.  The black sheep.  

And that...obviously...I, or they, would be disappointing God and he would no longer love or bless the sinner if there was any sort of rebellion against any of these expectations. I remember consciously thinking this about myself or others around me if we strayed, even just for just a small fraction of time.  

I know that this way of thinking is what fed upon my already planted seed of shame and unworthiness. Combined with other circumstances in my life, it is what created the perfect storm to attempt to squash the thread of self-worth that I was so desperately clinging onto, destroying it to become almost obsolete.  

When I finally came to the end of my frayed, self-deprecating rope, I had the choice to dig myself out.  But that meant truly finding a self-worth that was not built upon the often dangerous and even more often--faulty--opinions of others.  It was a heart-wrenching process, and caused somewhat of an identity crisis for a while.  

There has been a lot of talk of Mormon Feminism around these parts lately.  Now there is a growing number of women who are ready to show their feminism by wearing pants to church on Sunday.  From what I have read and researched, it appears there are many Mormon women who feel they have been dealt with unjustly, and they are tired of it.  They are demanding equality!  Respect!  For someone to finally stand up and say they have worth by allowing them to bless, ordain, hold specific callings, and pray over a pulpit!  To band with other women who feel this way and not feel alone anymore!

And, from what I gather, they want to see tangible results, not just hear someone say it.  But for it to be proven to them, in the form of:

-being able to hold the priesthood, along with other callings that are currently only held by men of the church
-going on a mission for a full 2 years instead of 18 months, and being allowed to leave on that mission at the same age as the young men leave
-feeling supported when they choose to work outside the home instead of rear children
-not feel labeled as a failure if they are un-married or child-less
-being allowed to say a prayer over the pulpit during General Conference
-balancing the budget between male and female extra-curricular groups and events so that it is the same amount for both sides

I know there are countless others, these are just the main points I've heard/read repeatedly.

Now.  I can't recall any specific times in my life where I have actually felt from another member of my religion that women are not worth as much as men.  I didn't have a traumatic experience where I was yelled at and told that I was less than by a male member of my ward.  I didn't look upon men in callings of authority as above me and all other females.  I just didn't.  

I understand though, there are women who have had those experiences, and I don't take them lightly.  I don't say, "just get over it" to them, even if I haven't felt their specific pain.  Pain is pain, and should be treated as such, regardless of whether I deem it pain-worthy or not.  

I have been in many situations where I was told by both actions and words of an individual that I was not worth much.  Not directed toward all women, but me in particular.  So I know the feeling, I know the pain, and I know what it does to someone's spirit when they actually believe the lies of their worth that are told to them by someone who is inflicting hurt.  

But what I feel about this Mormon Feminism wave, that seems to be gathering more and more force as it continues to progress, is this:

no one can define your worth for you except for you and God.

And whether or not you're granted the priesthood some day, or your mission is extended 6 months, or you're praised for your career choice outside of the home, or there is a parade thrown for you with every single member of your ward attending because you're unwed and not a mother, or you get the phone call from one of the higher-ups, requesting for you to pray during the Spring Session of conference next week, or you get to go on a boating excursion with the new and improved budget....

Those things may provide a temporary relief from your pain, but it will not cure it.  

I have come to know this in a very personal way.  Because it didn't matter how many times someone told me I was beautiful.  Or how many times someone's actions or words said that I had earned--and deserved--their love, or the various ways that I was shown and told that I was good and did have actual worth, 

those good experiences did not cure me because I did not believe it.

I chose to instead believe the ugly lies and thoughts and actions of the imperfect people who told me the opposite.  But guess who's fault that was?  Not the abuser's, not the disgusting pig of a boyfriend, not the teacher's or the bishop's or the prophet's....

It was mine.  My choice to believe it.  My choice to let it fester inside, and build and cause anger and bitterness with tentacles that reached and created,

a victim.  

Which in turn, led to a great struggle.  The tiny slice of my self-worth that was still in there, the last shred of my dignity began to fight this self-loathing victim.  It scratched and screamed and clawed and decided to finally DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT TO MAKE SOMEONE SEE THAT I HAD WORTH!!

When really, the only person who needed to see it and recognize it, 

was me.  

But it worked. This soul-wrenching temper tantrum.  In an extremely painful way...it worked.  I was brought to my knees, and found myself begging God to help me see my way through it and start to truly love myself for the first time.  To rid my spirit of the shame and loathing, to rip the tentacles from my heart and thoughts so I could see a glimpse of clarity for the first time in my life.  Looking back now, almost 3 years down the road from then, I am no longer

a victim.  

The great thing about choosing, even if at first you choose unwisely, you can always change your mind and choose a different path. 

Truthfully, for a while I did have to separate my way of thinking from the culture of my religion.  I didn't stop going to church, but as I walked through the double doors, I began shedding the skin of the little girl who believed she was unworthy if she made a mistake, or didn't live up to the "potential" of what the culture told her she needed to.  The imperfect culture and imperfect people of the church truly give it such a bad name, and a hard reputation to defend sometimes. 

As I shed that skin, my heart ached to find a world inside of this religion that was no longer black and white, right and wrong, good and bad.  Whether it could be defined as "gray" or not I don't know, all I knew was that I wanted to be able to see past another's actions and find their worth, regardless of their choices, because I needed so badly to see my own.

And I believe that I am finding it.  I am a member of this church because I believe in its principles, its doctrine {including all of it, that depicts our different responsibilities as men and women},and that deep-down, underneath all of its layers of imperfection...is love.  My testimony of its truth has never been more solid, and continues to grow daily in its solidarity. I no longer care whether someone comes to church as a homosexual individual, a pot-smoking individual, a pornography-addicted individual, a Mormon feminist, an unmarried individual, or a two-piece bathing-suit-owner.  Let them come and sit by me and know that I love them and am not there to judge them or burn a scarlet letter into their chest, just as much as I'm not there for their approval..... or for the male leader's approval, or for my husband's approval, or for the relief society president's approval. 

I am not there for anyone's approval,

only to worship my God.

I no longer live my life for anyone's approval.  The small and seemingly insignificant choices that I make daily, and the larger, more life-altering choices that I make in the grand scheme of things are made because they are what I believe is good for me, and bringing me happiness.  They're no longer made out of shame or fear.  

My worth as a child of God has nothing to do with which responsibilities I do or do not hold, or which callings I do or do not serve in, or whether or not I wear a dress or pants to church.  

God speaks to me now-- daily in fact, if I am listening.  There has been a peace that has come into my heart I have never had before, and I have become a vessel of his. I believe I would be this regardless of my gender, even regardless of which church I belonged to. I believe I would still have the potential to reach this as long as the way I am living my life is inside of truth for me.  As his vessel, when I am open and in tune, I have had the ability to reach those who have been unreachable.  I have had the ability to hear His words meant for others and have Him speak through me.  I do not need to lay my hands upon their head to know it, the words have simply been spoken to me to speak to another.  I also know that when there is no priesthood authority close and I am in need of His voice, or His blessing, or His comfort, I can kneel down and ask for the powers of heaven, and it will be there.

I know not everyone is at this place in their life, and maybe this movement is going to be a piece of getting them closer to achieving it, who knows?  

I have taught, and continue to teach, my children about the "fairness" game.  If they are constantly comparing themselves to another--feeling "less than" and yelling about how this isn't fair or that isn't--I teach them this feeling has nothing to do with anyone or anything outside, but only from the inside.  Insecurities, comparison, jealousy....they all spring from a lack of self-worth, when you really get down to it.  

So I guess what I recommend is asking yourself, while pulling on your church clothes this Sunday, one leg at a time is....

Is this just a cry for someone, anyone {even if it's for yourself}, to recognize and finally acknowledge your worth?  

I don't know....I can't speak for those planning on doing it.  I could be way off base here, and I'm open to the idea that I might be.  Maybe it really is just about women wearing their pain on the outside instead of the inside.  To prove to themselves that they matter, that their pain matters.  But if it were, why does church have to be the forum for that? I definitely have written about my own individual pain, and found outlets to talk about it and own it and show it and mourn it and I didn't have to read it over the pulpit in testimony meeting.  I didn't call my offenders to the forefront and demand change.  As I changed, and healed, the need to bring about my idea of justice and balance and equality to those offenders faded.  It was no longer needed, because I no longer defined myself from the opinions of anyone but me and my Father in Heaven. 

That doesn't mean that another individual's way of working through something is wrong. You want to wear pants?  It's going to help ease your burden, heal some of your wounds?  Then go right ahead.  And I think if I had read an article where one lady had done it and what it signified to her, and how it helped her overcome something, I would be standing up and applauding for her.  It just feels strange that the women who feel this way seem to be unable to voice it individually.  Why the need for a big group support moment?

It just feels like it's more than about being vulnerable and you've been through hard things and you're no longer afraid of showing it on the outside.  Because I believe deep down, that if that's truly what this was about, I would be able to feel that and run to start putting on my own pair of jeans.  But it's coming across to me more like a situation where there's safety in numbers, and hopping on a bandwagon, and proving something, which then eradicates the vulnerability aspect in my eyes and makes me question the sincerity behind the intent.  

I feel like if you really do already know your worth, you don't need to do or wear anything to prove it to someone else.

And I know that, because I have lived through it.  

let the festivus begin!

well friends, christmas has arrived in the strader home!  before december was even upon us, mind you. it's a new record for me.  

honestly i can't believe we decorated as early as we did, because i feel like i have so many other things to do that decorating kind of gets put on the back burner. this is coming from the same source who, when asked by her son if she could please decorate for halloween this year, answered matter-of-factly, "yeaaah.  that's not going to happen buddy, but i love you."  

it's just not a priority for me and i think it has something to do with it being a lot of work that i'm usually stuck with on my own because ben is gone so much.  i have to tackle & conquer the garage {dun dun dunnn} which isn't messy, but it is.....stacked.  tubs of kids clothes and camping gear and winter coats that we may or may not one day actually wear again line the walls and take up of one half of our garage.  and as much as i love a good challenge, i have this deep-down fear somewhere that my lifeless body will one day be uncovered among tubs and tubs of paraphernalia, flattened in an avalanche of grey plastic and lids like one of those poor petrified cats in an episode of hoarders, all because i was off searching for the tub that held holiday decorations.  

woah.  death by tubs...i have seriously derailed here.  back on subject!  

anyway, i had a good 24 hours where ben was actually home, so we put that time to good use, popped on christmas music on pandora and got to work.  

for a couple of days it actually looked like it christmas had vomited all over it, and i momentarily worried that we had made a huge mistake, but we stuck with it and eventually that momentary worry turned into the twinkly and warm feeling i get whenever i stare at white christmas lights and colorful ornaments surrounding fake pine. 

here are a few somewhat pathetic & grainy pictures from my phone, but it's the best i've got for right now.

caleb was a huge help, i'm sure he was elated we decorated at all.  his excitement that his mother didn't give him another matter-of-fact lame answer accompanied with validation that her love for him continues on even if the decorations do not was almost palpable.  he's also learned the art of spacing out the ornaments & garland which i appreciate because i get a bit OCD about that part of it.

leah was interesting...i wouldn't exactly call her "helpful," though she did put ornaments on the tree.  but the majority of her assistance was spent with her turning each of her ornaments into imaginary friends, and bunching them into one section of the bottom right of the tree so they could all stay together, apparently to socialize and play so they wouldn't get "lonely."  anytime one of the rest of us would try to spread them out to more than one of the 3 branches she picked as their designated spot to stack/cram them, she lost it.  wailing that they needed to be close, the mommy ornaments with their babies, and so on.  well, who is going to argue with that?  as the days have gone on, i've found myself slowly moving them farther and farther apart to get her used to seeing them that way.  i'm no fool.

last year, i prepped myself for june of 2012.  i remember leah at this age, and didn't want to spend my time paranoid that she was going to either break the non-toddler-proof ornaments, or choke on tiny little pieces before i could save her life.  when we were in texas last year, we went to target a few days after christmas and i stocked up on their clearance of ornaments.  and i have to say, i found a bunch of my now all-time favorites, and they're toddler-friendly to boot.  

that target, i tell you what.  it just gets me.

i told the older kids to put all of "baby june's ornaments" on the bottom half of the tree and it worked like a charm.  she loves to pull them off, rearrange them, shake the heck out of them, yell and scream at them, lick them, walk around the house with them....and it doesn't bother me one bit.  

so, here we are.  'tis the season and all of that. i'm still trying to figure out where to hang our stockings since we don't have a really convenient place to hang them.  

oh!  i almost forgot!  stop the presses, this is BIG news.  

in an attempt to actually achieve one of my new year's resolutions for 2012, we had family pictures taken with the *hope* of sending out christmas cards this year.  the cards are already actually ordered! i would give myself a pat on the back, but i know my weaknesses & that until those puppies are actually IN the MAIL, i cannot cross it off my list yet.  

we didn't have the money for a professional photographer, so i asked my friend to come to a park with us, using my camera and take family shots & then i would take individual ones of the kids.  holy cow, i underestimated miss june.  i knew she'd be the one to keep entertained, but she was just. not. having it.

the individual pictures are really cute, but we got one decent family shot out of about 35.  and here is a sneak peek at all of the fun we did{n't} have:  

these pictures totally make me laugh.  caleb's trying-too-hard smile, leah's puffy fish cheeks, and then the wee lassy. i realize that this is probably our last family shot for the next couple of years...unless we can catch june with a surprise camera attack or something.  oh well, we did it.  

here's to the holiday season!

and here's last year's christmas decorating post, if you're interested.  look at fat, bald baby june!