The Joys of the Toddler Years

I'm going to be brutally honest. Krissy Stancombe doesn't do two year olds very well. I had no idea what hit me when Nyah reached that difficult age. I just wasn't prepared for the sassiness and tantrums that Nyah exhibited. I remember in my early teens my mother saying "I hope you have one just like you".  Mum got her wish, the lord blessed me with two just like me.

Tori is now reaching that beloved stage of sassiness and defiance.  She seems to find delight in testing the boundaries and Levi being almost three, just seems to push all my buttons. I write this as I watch the two strong personalities play collaboratively with Levi's trains. Almost as though my writing about the often clash of personalities in my home is a fallacy.

When Nyah was two I seriously wondered if there was something wrong with her.  Had I not breast fed her enough? Was it the soft serve ice cream and soft cheeses I ate during her pregnancy? Could it have been the 5 weeks I had her in daycare whilst I did my Professional School Experience? Could those 5 weeks have traumatised her?

Jim would get frustrated with the fact that I thought Nyah needed testing. He promised me that all Nyah's characteristics - although challenging at the time - would one day prove to be a blessing.

I often get comments from more senior parents who say "your children are so beautiful".  I politely tell them 'thank you'.  Often I get the comment "enjoy them while they're this age". I think, 'have these people forgotten what this age is like? Are they just recalling bedtime and that beautiful moment when all is quiet and the children truly look beautiful and peaceful?'.  Because honestly, this toddler thing is serious business that requires a heck of a lot of love and extreme patience. I lack patience. I thought I had plenty of love but I've had to reevaluate since I rediscovered the scripture 'love is patient, love is kind' (of which I have a little plaque with this very phrase displayed in prime position in my home).

Tori getting into the pantry
and upending a packet of
spaghetti.  What a darling.

All three of our children exhibit extreme persisitence and independence. Mothers would realise how frustrating this can be when you are trying to get dinner prepared and there is your beautiful toddler, tugging on your legs or when you are on the phone, suddenly Peppa Pig has finished and the next little program doesn't quite offer the same satisfaction.  'There is that window of opportunity where mum is engaged in adult conversation and if I just persist long enough, I can have that cookie at the top of the pantry, that I just can't reach on my own even when I have the kiddy chair stacked on top on the dining chair'.

The other day I asked Jim to tell me when I am going to see this characteristic of persistence as a blessing. Well This morning I got a glimpse.

Yesterday was Nyah's last day of term three at kinder. She brought home a lovely binder that her teachers had put together over the year. Inside contained things she had been doing throughout the year. The teachers had spent a lot of time personalising it through journal entries. One teacher shared an experience of when Nyah had been playing in the playground. Nyah wanted to hang from a bar and swing on it. Nyah was not quite tall enough to teach it on her own. Her teacher explained that Nyah was determined to swing from that bar and came up with a plan all on her own. She began scooping up the tanbark and putting it into a small pile beneath the bar.  Then she would stand on her pile to see if she could reach the bar. Realising she still wasn't high enough, she gathered more tanbark and continued this process until she had accomplished what she set out to do.

As I read this, tears filled my eyes.  It may had been because I am pregnant and hormonal however a
light seemed to go on in me and the words of my loving and very patient husband went through my
mind - "these are characteristics that will be a blessing one day".

Nyah's teacher went on to record "what looks like a simple episode of outdoor play is actually a
pretty big deal. This is competence and resilience in action. Nyah faced a challenge and instead of
asking for help, she assessed the problem and acted by developing a plan and adapting it to the
situation as it unfolded. There is so much happening here - persistence; creative thinking; carrying 
out a plan; taking risks; feeling successful; and being independent.  These are skills that will stand Nyah in good stead when she makes the transition to school, and indeed throughout her life". 

So today when I have cause to shake my fist at the heavens and say "why me" when I am faced with these challenging behaviours in my two toddlers, I will remember how good it felt to read about Nyah's experience at school and the way in which she overcame an obstacle.

Upon reflection, I have realised that these senior parents I meet are so right when they say "they're not little for long". Nyah's toddler stage went by so quickly. I need to focus on the delightful moments I have during these toddler years (the ones other than nap time and bed time). These include: the kisses and cuddles I get, the fun times we have at the park, pool and the beach, Levi assessing all family wounds and allocating a band aid when necessary, the way Tori and Levi sit so reverently for the first ten seconds of family prayers, the moments I look out to the courtyard and see my posterity learning and developing together through play and exploration. There are so many more of these sweet moments that do make having little ones a joy.  

Perhaps, just maybe, There is a whole lot more to toddlers than what they are famous for.

Reflections on a Defining Moment

Egypt always fascinated me as a child. This was one place
wanted to visit and it was one place that exceeded my
expectations.

When Jim and I were engaged to be married, we drew individual pictures of the things we wanted to do in our lives.  When we came together we realised how many of the same goals we had (phewf, we were getting off to a good start).  One of these things was to travel the world.  Another of our desires was to have a large family (it is important to note here that Jim wanted eight children).  Knowing that the reality of having a large family and world travel did not really go hand in hand (unless Jim became CEO of a bank), we knew it either had to be done before we had children, or after.  Another item on the list was to serve a mission together.  What it came down to is this; we needed to travel before having children.  I mean, who really knows what is going to happen in the future?  How do we know that if we put off these opportunities for a time - when perhaps financially we can do things a little more four star – that one of us might not be to go?

This is one thing I know my mother has no regrets about.  She and dad travelled.  They didn’t wait for tomorrow.  Now at a time when they could have taken off around Australia together in their campervan like others their age, mum doesn’t sit in regret that they did not have adventures together.  Sure they didn’t get to fulfil the dream of being a grey nomad, but they did not put off travel all together for a time when it would be too late. 

Jim and I did Asia on a budget and stopped for a time in Manchester, England to work and fund the rest of our journey.  We were living the dream.  Travel to The Netherlands one weekend, Scotland the next, we had an amazing time.  It’s important to keep in mind that we had only been married for about six months by the time we reached Manchester.  We were really just starting to get into the groove of being married. 

For a good two months we had been living like gypsies.  Late one night in the pitch black dark, Jim and I were lying in bed together.  Jim was upset.  This was strange for me and I was unsure on how to approach the situation.  Jim confessed that he did not feel like he had a testimony of the gospel.  My confession in this blog is that I am not a calm person.  At this moment I was in internal panic mode.  Here I was a returned missionary of just eight months and I had this man, who I had not only committed myself to for this lifetime, but throughout all eternity.  I was concerned.  I automatically thought the worst.  One of the things I had worried about before marrying Jim was that he had joined the church because he knew it was what I wanted.  I recalled a letter I wrote him whilst on a mission stating: “I want to marry someone who can take me to the temple and if that’s not you, it will be someone else”.  I knew he wasn’t foolish enough to go through all this just because of me, however right at this moment, it was certainly on my mind. 

I said a prayer in my heart that I would know the right things to say to Jim.  The words came to me.  I realised the importance of church attendance, prayers, scripture study and service.  In our travels we had not been diligent in doing this.  We didn’t have a responsibility in the church either.  Everything we did was all about us, we were in our own selfish little world, fulfilling our dream to travel the world.  I reminded Jim of all the letters he wrote me during my missionary service.  These letters contained his growing testimony of the things he was learning about.  I felt impressed to tell him that we needed to be more diligent in those things that evoke the Spirit in our lives.  I felt comforted as I came to this realisation.  I somehow knew that this would be a defining moment in our marriage, one that we would remember in times where we lacked faith.

On the Sunday we visited with the bishop of our congregation and told him that we were going to be around for a few months and we would be willing to serve.  He gave us an assignment in Primary.  A car became available to us so that we could attend the Preston, England Temple on a weekly basis.  We found a balance in the adventures we were having and spiritual matters.  Our relationship was strengthened.

There will be times in our lives when our faith will be tested.  Sometimes we may feel like there is nothing left in our tank, but I know that as we draw on previous experiences that have strengthened our faith, it can help us on our path.  Faith is a doing word.  It requires action.  The good Lord says “prove me” (Malachi 3:10).  He is inviting us to put His words to the test and watch the blessings come. I have had to rely on this experience and others that I have had throughout my life lately as Jim and I have been going through another defining moment.  I recall a moment in my teens when I would listen to the song ‘Clay in His Hands’ by Jessie Clark Funk over and over.  Even today this song serves as a reminder to me to put my trust in the one who knows me best.

We are clay in His hands,  centred on the wheel

As the wheel spins, the potter moulds, creating something beautiful

We are clay in His hands and all we can become is shaped by the Master

That’s where His finest work is done

A Season Apart

This is an account of Jim’s and my history together as recorded in January of 2004 whilst I was a missionary.

The Story of Mr and Mrs James Stancombe

(through my eyes)

It was hard to say goodbye to my family but not nearly as hard as it was so say goodbye to Jim.  I knew my family would be there when I got home but I lacked the faith that Jim would go the distance. 

Mum, dad, Tania (my sister) and I went to Sydney together so that I could go through the temple there.  A few days later I left Sydney, bound for Utah to battle the winter there.

The Missionary Training College was an amazing place, filled with young men and women from all over the world. All there for a common purpose.  There was an amazing spirit there. 

I was in the MTC for a total of four weeks however my family and friends back home were expecting me to be there for only three weeks.  This meant that they were sending mail to Temple Square in that fourth week and I got nothing my final week in the MTC.  Boo. 

The second discussion

When I arrived at Temple Square I had ample mail awaiting me.  There were three letters from Jim.  As I opened them I was delighted to read of his excitement to be having the missionary discussions.  He had drawn me diagrams of the things that the missionaries were teaching him. 



I must confess, I was always thinking
about Jim whilst on the job

Months passed and Jim’s desire to learn grew.  His letters became more spiritual as he found truth within the pages of the Book of Mormon.  He truly thirsted for more knowledge as every book I sent him, he would read with eagerness. 

On December the 7^th 2003 James Stancombe was baptised by my father Neville Henry Reeve, into the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  The letters Jim has written me over this period of time, tell of his conversion. 

I write this so that my posterity may see how marvellous the gospel of Jesus Christ is and how the Lord’s hand is working in our lives always.  Our Heavenly Father truly sees the bigger picture and if we trust in him and serve him and those around us, the greatest blessings will be ours.  I love 
the gospel, I love my Saviour and I am thankful to be serving Him at this 
time as a missionary.  I love Jim and can’t wait to be his eternal companion.

I have learnt that our growth truly does depend on our choices.

The end, but not nearly....

The Call to Serve

This is an account of Jim’s and my history together as recorded in January of 2004 whilst I was a missionary.

The Story of Mr and Mrs James Stancombe

(through my eyes)

At this stage in Jim’s and my friendship things were fairly casual.  There wasn’t anything too serious going on between us.  It seemed almost as soon as I had made my decision to serve a mission that we began getting closer.

After all the paperwork was completed, it was bound for Salt Lake with the expectation that I would receive my mission call in about five weeks. 

The weather was beginning to warm up even for Tasmania and summer was approaching.  Mum and dad’s house had been completed and we were all moved in.  Jim was back at school and we saw each other most weekends and kept in contact via email and phone throughout the week. 

I remember well the day I received my mission call.  My sister-in-law Bonnie, called me at work.  All she said was “It’s here Kris”.  I ran upstairs and got mum, called dad and told him to meet us up and my brother’s house to open THE envelope. 

There it was. A letter from the Prophet of God and President of the Church, President Gordon B Hinckley.  I opened the envelope without delay.

I learned I was called to serve in the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission and was to report to the Missionary Training College on the 13^th of January, 2003. 

I miss those mountains so much

I was so happy I cried and my mother’s immediate response was “you’ll be so safe”.  I had not even entertained the thought of going somewhere that I wouldn’t be safe.  I guess when you are a mother you think about those kinds of things. 

It was from here on in that Jim and I were officially dating.  We were together 24/7.  It was summer so the weather was great.  For the following three months we spent almost every breathing moment together.  We spent a lot of time with my family just doing little things together at our local swimming hole and up the Trevallyn Dam for a water ski. 

A recent picture of my daring nephew Jake
 at the family swimming hole - Corra Lin

Christmas Day that year was the best.  To most others it wouldn’t have been considered to be anything grand, but to us it was a little piece of heaven on earth.  We had breakfast with Jim’s family in the morning and headed to mum and dad’s for the rest of the day.  The weather that day was perfect and allowed for us to venture down to our local swimming hole as a family where we had a blast together.  That summer was fantastic, thanks to Jim.  We laughed constantly and it is safe to say that we had fallen in love.

I remember asking Jim one quiet night if he thought I should stay home rather than to serve a mission.  His response was that I must go, he believed we both had some growing to do, but assured me that he would be at home ready for my return.  In my heart I would have liked to believe he would wait for me, but my head was telling me different. 

We talked about getting married a little, perhaps more in jest than anything else as I wasn’t about to marry outside the temple.  The strange thing was, I felt like I would marry him, I just didn’t know how it was all going to fall into place.  I knew in my heart of hearts that serving a mission was the right decision and thankfully, Jim supported me gladly.



To be continued...

Getting the Ball Rolling

This is an account of Jim’s and my history together as recorded in January of 2004 whilst I was a missionary.

The Story of Mr and Mrs James Stancombe

(through my eyes) 

If you missed the first chapters you will find them here:

1, 2, 3 & 4.

I felt a little lost and unsure of how everything was going to fall in to place.  Wanting some space to clear my head I ventured off down to Hobart to spend some time with a friend.  We had a really great Saturday together.  We did a lot of talking.  That night when my friend went to work, I met up with Jim.  It was so good to see him.  

The following morning I found myself heading back to Launceston for church, listening to a CD which was given to me by My good friend Sam.  One that was from his mission in Perth, Western Australia.  I listened to one song that I had set on repeat for the entire two-hour journey back to Launceston.  

Beautiful Campbelltown

Campbell Town is a small town and the speed limit is quite slow from driving along the open Midlands Highway.  As I was entering Campbell town I saw in a field a farmer and a few sheep.  One of the ewes had just given birth. I knew this because I saw all the afterbirth hanging from her as she struggled to get to her feet.  Next to this ewe was a newborn lamb, so tiny and frail.  The lamb was also trying to get on its spindly little legs.  This sight was truly amazing to me at this time (coupled with the song I was listening to).  I thought about how amazing creation is and how these things did not just happen due to some big bang out in the big black beyond.  Every living thing has been created by the Father of all things - God.  I distinctly remember the feeling I had as I passed through Campbell Town.  It was a confirmation of the answer I had previously received to my prayer.  I knew the Lord wanted me to serve a mission and I knew that there were people out there who needed to hear about the majesty of The Creation from me.

I remember my concern as to how it was all going to come together, what mum and dad would think and how I would pay for it.

The following Tuesday night I was at Mutual again and had hoped to see Bishop and tell him of my news.  I was hoping that I would be able to catch up with Bishop and talk things over with him but time didn’t allow me to.  I returned home feeling disappointed because I really wanted to tell somebody of my news and talk over the steps I needed to take for preparation.

It was about 10pm when I called the chapel not really expecting anyone to be there.  Bishop answered and lovingly told me to go and see him.  We talked at length and by the time I left his office I had in my hand the paperwork I would need to complete and submit to Salt Lake for full-time missionary service.

I got home around 11pm and couldn’t wait to tell mum and dad.  They were sound asleep at the time and didn’t sound over joyed about my plans.  Dad kind of felt like it was just another one of these fleeting moments.  I could understand how he would think that as I am a very spontaneous person and I can be indecisive and unable to complete things I start.  This is primarily due to be going at 110% at something and then getting sick of it.  So, in the past I have quit.

But this was not something that just popped into my head.  This came as an answer to my prayer.

My mother has spent many years as a hospital aide.  First in the old Queen Victoria Maternity hospital and then moved to the Launceston General Hospital when the Queen Victoria amalgamated with the Launceston General Hospital.  So we worked in the same building, me on the third floor and mum on the fourth in the Queen Victoria Maternity Unit.

We saw a lot of each other and quite often had lunch together.  I actually enjoyed having my mother at my place of employment.  It was not uncommon to return to my desk from running errands and find that my mother – the fairy – had left me a chocolate bar with a little note attached.  I think she liked having me around too.

After speaking with my dad on the phone late that Tuesday night, the next morning at work I went upstairs to see mum.  Both she and dad had laid awake for a while after my call and discussed my proposal.  Mum expressed to me her concern and that the three of us should meet to discuss it further later that evening. 

All went as planned and both mum and dad decided by Wednesday night that they would have to pray about it together.

What followed was a small miracle in my family.  The short and condensed version is this:  I received a generous tax return, mum and dad received the answer they weren’t really looking for but knew that it would be good for me and that if it was what the Lord wanted, it would all work out.

Soon after this Jim was on a couple of weeks school break.  He was interested in meeting me for lunch at work.  He had bought my favourite salad roll and we walked over to the park – our usual spot – to have lunch.  It was then that I dropped the bombshell on him.  At first he thought I was joking and then discovered that it was in fact a reality.  I was about to embark on something very unusual to him and something huge for me.

To be continued.....3

Something Missing

This is an account of Jim’s and my history together as recorded in January of 2004 whilst I was a missionary. 

The Story of Mr and Mrs James Stancombe

(though my eyes)

To read the previous chapter click here. 

Jim and I began talking on the phone a little and seeing each other on weekends either in Launceston or Hobart if I was down there visiting friends.  It was almost as though the two of us were picking up right where we had left off two years prior. 

Like I said earlier, at this stage in my life, I had found happiness and I felt for the first time in a long time like my heavenly father was happy with the decisions I was making.  Why then did I feel like something was missing?

One Tuesday night after Mutual (youth group) I came home upset and quite angry.  I walked into my room and fell to my knees pleading to the Lord for answers and some kind of direction.  I know I didn’t address Him the way I was taught.  I firmly and simply said “what do you want me to do?” Shortly followed by, “just tell me and I’ll do it.”  I never got an answer that night perhaps because I didn’t wait for it.  I got up from my knees and went straight to bed.

After a few days I received a strong impression to read my Patriarchal Blessing.  I searched and low for my Patriarchal Blessing and finally came to the conclusion that it was packed somewhere safe by my mother during the move.  Whilst I was living with my brother and his family, I lived in their rumpus and storage room which was separate from the house.  It was more like a little bungalow but without a bathroom or kitchenette.  I had a lot of space and my own little house became the hang out on the weekends.  

If per chance the young adults were over watching movies late on a Saturday evening and early into the hours of Sunday morning, I liked to read a quote or talk from one of the general authorities, have a ‘family’ prayer together and say good night. We did this in recognition of the Sabbath. 

This particular evening my good friends Sacha Rattray and Sam Horsman were over.  We’d had a nice evening together and I went over to my bedside table to find a spiritual thought located in the drawer.  As I opened the drawer and picked up the first piece of folder paper, I was astonished to find that it was my Patriarchal Blessing.  I had looked in that drawer numerous times already but never found it until this moment.

I received my Patriarchal Blessing in December of 2001 and remember well reading over and over the things that really interested me.  You know, every young LDS girl wants to see that in her mortality she will marry in the temple.  This time however, my eyes were drawn to a section that read: ”sister the Lord is pleased with your thoughts on missionary work, he blesses you that with the gifts you have and your sincerity and knowledge of the gospel, you will be able to bring souls to the waters of baptism.  He also blesses you that in due course of time you will feel the urge to serve Him on a proselyting mission”.

It was the first time this passage had stood out to me and it was as though it had been written in bold.  Part of me wished I never asked the Lord what course he wanted me to take.  Tears flowed down my cheeks.  I just knew that this was my answer.

To be continued.....

note: What is a Patriarchal Blessing? Click here to find out.

here

A Brief Recess

This is an account of Jim’s and my history together as recorded in January of 2004 whilst I was a missionary. 

The Story of Mr and Mrs James Stancombe 

(through my eyes)  

Jim and I would laugh constantly.  We had so much fun together and in the following weeks became close.  My relationships with my friends by the sea seemed to quickly diminish as the days rolled on.  I wondered if I wasn’t being a little foolish, ending a relationship with one young man primarily because he wasn’t a member of my faith and then beginning to date Jim who wasn’t a member of the church either.  

It was at this very moment of contemplation that a young Returned Missionary entered my life.  This young RM and I dated exclusively for the best part of a year and on and off for a few months longer.  This relationship came with its fair share of ups and downs.  It was around that time that the group Savage Garden played on the radio often.  The words to their song 'Affirmation' run through my mind when I think of this time in my life “I believe you can’t appreciate real love ‘til you’ve been burned”.  And burned I was. 

One thing I have learned from serving a mission myself is that whilst you are away you devote your time to being in the Lord’s service.  Every day is made up of a strict schedule of arising at 6am, an hour personal study and an hour companionship study, then get ready for the day and out the door at 9am.  As a missionary you pray often, all the time.  You pray individually and as a companionship multiple times throughout the day and there is the constant sharing of your personal testimony of the Saviour and His divinity.  It is a time when you can become very close to the Saviour and very close to the Spirit.  When you see those young missionaries in areas throughout the world, don’t they look good?  Don’t they look clean and like they have a light about them?  I’m not saying for one minute they are perfect, but I know from experience that a life in the service of others (no matter what religion – or none at all), has the potential to make you shine from the inside out.

I really think that it was that light and perhaps the piercing blue eyes of this young man that attracted me to him in the first place.

I truly believe that people come into our lives for a reason.  If not for this RM, I perhaps wouldn't have severed those ties with the people that I desperately needed to in order for me to 'find' myself.  For that I give thanks.

In the meantime, Jim had moved to Hobart for university and we still kept in touch now and then via email.

The RM and I finally made an end to things and after mending my broken heart, I began enjoying life as a young SINGLE adult.  I really hadn’t been single in such a long time so it was new for me and I was starting to enjoy being active in the single adult program of the church.  Jim was still in the picture.  He was my friend and I felt like I could totally be myself around him.  I remember feeling a little pressure with the boys at church.  I found it hard not to send the wrong signals.  I only wanted friendship, but I was naturally flirtatious which I think was subconsciously due to the fact that I had very little self esteem and the attention filled that void somehow.  Sad, I know, but if I am to be truly honest with myself and to my future posterity, it needs to be said.

I came to a place in time where I felt done with boys.  I couldn’t be bothered with them, so I just got busy doing those things that I knew to be right and focussing on my personal growth. 

I felt happy and like my life was where it should be.  I had a job I enjoyed.  After about 10 months at the medical centre almost by coincidence I scored a full-time position back at the LGH as a Ward Clerk/Receptionist in the Endoscopy and Day Surgery Unit.  I loved that job and the people I worked with.

I was really enjoying serving in the Young Women’s Program of the church as a Laurel Advisor.  My mum and dad were in the finishing stages of building their new home next door to my brother – who I was living with at the time – and for me, life couldn’t have been better.  I had found happiness.  

to be continued.....