Me who?

I miss blogging. I barely get to my email now a days. :(

Beauty Marks

Yesterday, Grandma had a doctor show on t.v. as I was going back and forth with the baby. "Up next" was going to be a new method for getting rid of stretch marks that "really works." I was truly saddened by this.
As the preview said, I had stretch marks going through puberty that I hated. But gladly, they faded and I learned to accept myself etc.
Now I have stretch marks on my belly from having a baby and I honestly am proud of them. Not the kind of proud like wear a bikini and not care what people think proud. But proud that my body has accomplished something so miraculous and amazing and beautiful. Why get rid of that? Why hide it and be ashamed of it? It's a part of me- a physical sign of where I've been and what I've done.
I've never been so in love with and proud of my body as I am now.

(A bit scattered) Bless those that hurt you

Jesus said love everyone. Even our enemies. Curse them that hate you. Forgive those that trespass against you etc. I have been able to understand this to a certain extent. I don't wish bad on anyone. I can see wanting to share the gospel with those that we think are "bad" or "evil." But what about when it gets personal?
I always wondered about people who have really been wronged- if someone murdered a family member, what would it mean to forgive? Certainly, forgiveness is also for the person doing the forgiving; it's not good to carry hurt and anger etc. There are certain sins that I find unforgivable and in this regard just try not to think about, child abuse for example.
But what of smaller things that we all probably deal with? What if your enemy is someone hurting you or threatening your family? And I don't mean someone breaking in your house or some traumatic experience. I mean the things we deal with on a more subtle level. Someone so demanding of your time that it takes away from your family. Someone with a bad spirit who brings bad feelings to you or your children. Perhaps forgiveness isn't really the topic, but my question is something like that.
Can I pray FOR my enemies, while still praying that they go away? Can I bless those that are hurting me while still hoping for justice?

Win the battle, win the war?

The other day we were struggling with a lot of stuff. I sat outside with the baby just trying to remember to breathe. I prayed and basically said, "if I'm going to lose the battle and everything's just going to fall apart anyway, please just let it hurry and happen." The thought came quite quickly to me "then what's the point of fighting the battle?" The idea of a battle isn't actually how I started to pray. I was asking about some very specific things going on in our life, I just want to leave that out here. The battle idea came in the answer.
It seems to me that we are taught to choose the right, pray for everything, follow God's plan... all the things we want our children to know is true and out there. But it seems to me that it so easily leads to thinking that things are set in stone. If I choose the wrong job, school, outfit :), I might just mess up my eternal destiny. Destiny. What does that word mean and does it even exist? What I learned in this prayer, and what I seem to continue to learn in life, is that it's not all set. I suddenly remembered that there is this ongoing war between good and evil/right and wrong and THAT's why it's important to "choose the right." Not right like on a multiple choice test, but right in the sense of what are you fighting for? What are you defending and pursuing?
If God knows the answer and the outcome, it's hard to want to figure it out ourselves. But isn't that the point of life? In my situation, it's not destined that certain things happen or not. What is destined is that I'm at this point making these decisions and I have to decide to keep fighting or not. How I'm going to fight. What I'm fighting for.
I guess this is still a bit vague without specific examples. But it helped me to think that I'm not being overcome by my surroundings, but actually trying to serve God just by living my life. And my life, my family, my desires and values ARE worth fighting for.
With a little bit of faith, we might just win the war.

Am I Pretty?

So I took a picture of myself because I was feeling pretty and I wanted to remember. Pictures don't do people justice most the time. Even my baby looks a little washed out and not herself in pictures. This isn't what I looked like, but it was a good day anyway.
This was last Saturday. I think by today, I've forgotten. Oh well.

I was going to post about how being a mom and seeing my baby has given me a new definition of pretty and a better expectation of myself. Ah well, busy busy.... maybe one day I'll get back to those thoughts.

P.S. I felt pretty not just on the outside, but on this day, I felt like a good wife and mom. I've needed to feel pretty and capable lately. I've kind of been struggling.

Everything's going to be alright

Just thought you should know.

Response to a Parent's Lament

My dad has always said, especially to my brother, that we won't know how much he loves us until we have our own kids. I can't imagine anyone loving me as much as I love my baby. But I'm starting to see it.
As I've faced some trials of late and dealt with grown up things, my parents (and Kiki too!) have been there for me so completely I'm almost overwhelmed feeling loved and cared for. To see my hurt in their eyes is truly incredible. I'm sorry to cause them that, but the love I feel coming toward me is like nothing I've felt before.
For this, I am truly grateful.

Friday morning

We woke up with food on the shelf and I can't tell you how good that felt! I was actually able to keep my emotions pretty well under control, I think because I was fed!
I did laundry all day and in the afternoon bathed my baby. We have still been doing the sponge bath thing. I don't know if people think that makes me a bad mom or not, but even the doctor said not to bath her too much because her skin will dry out. But, she is getting bigger now and in the heat etc it seems that bathing needs to become a more regular thing (not that my baby is uncared for or dirty! We do just fine with washing her and getting her clean). The thing is, it's hard here to even have a place to wash her. She quickly outgrew the bathroom counter and the kitchen is always messy and/or crowded with people. But Friday, it was cleaned up and most people were gone. I had had an idea for easing Rayne into a "real" bath a while ago, so it was a good chance to try it. I started with the sponge bath- laying her on the counter and wetting her down and soaping her up in sections. We sang songs and made jokes and she does really well that way. When I got to her bottom half, instead of rinsing her with the washcloth, I put her in the little bathtub and guess what!? She seemed to like it!!!!
It was so fun. She kicked her legs and then she kicked some more. She even smiled!!! THIS is how it's supposed to go.

I really am feeling a peace that I haven't felt before. I think even though I knew in my heart I couldn't leave her, I expected so much confrontation and to have to fight for what I believed in. I even tried, at times- mostly before she was born- to convince myself that I might just have to work. But now that it's over, it's settled, the decision is made and done, I feel so right. I feel safe. I can look at her and feel confident that I am doing the right thing. It's a feeling of safety and peace... I really can't describe it any other way. And those feelings are very important to me.

It is an evil world that would pull a suckling babe from it's mother's breast

Anyone who knows me, knows of my timid nature and my inability to assert or defend myself. Logically, again anyone who knows me and my situation, knows there is no reason I should have to defend myself. Emotionally however, I feel like I do. Perhaps it is only in the false sense of privacy on my own blog that I have the nerve to do so. And just so you know, this is in regard to several things and several people...

No one knows the tears I cried the last time I was alone in my apartment. As I stood looking at the empty bedroom, I wept for the dreams that were now stored away in a box somewhere. I cried remembering the day we moved in, the day we brought the dog home, the day we found out we were having a baby, our happy times, our future hopes. I cried for our feeling of being HOME. No one understands the pain of putting that all on hold and what we lost that day.

No one knows the tears I cried nearly everyday for nine months as I kneeled in a bathroom throwing up, sick, I think, because I wasn't eating . Or the fear I felt every time I lay alone in a sick room at work, on doctors orders, because my legs and ankles were so swollen and my blood pressure so high. How I prayed that things would be okay. That my marriage would make it through, that my baby would survive and that somehow I would have the strength to keep carrying it all.

No one knows the hurt I feel, the secret tears I cry for him, when I see my husband, day after day, shot down for jobs, told no one is hiring, even called a loser by his own father and told he will lose his wife and baby if he doesn't start doing differently. Perhaps only I can see the hurt, the broken pride, the fear he feels, and only I know that it's not a matter of won't, but can't.

No one knows the fear, the doubt, the questions of putting aside a good education and a decent job with great people to follow your faith, your inspirations, your beliefs to do what is right. To say this is the easy way or to think I am lazy, only means you haven't had to take the steps I'm taking. This is the hardest thing I've ever done and NOTHING in my life right now is easy. The only joys I have are when my baby smiles at me or when she is sleeping peacefully or when my husband holds me and tells me he loves me.

No one knows the tears I cry when my baby has colic and reflux and cries in pain, looking straight into my eyes with complete trust that I will be the one to fix it when all I can really do is look back at her and wait for the pain and fear to pass. No one knows how the stupid remarks and bad advice from people who don't know hurt me. You don't know how hard it is to breast feed if you haven't done it. You don't know the exhaustion of being up every two hours for months, of not sleeping because you have to be awake and alert to give to this other person. And then to have people come in and want to take her away, to give their advice for things they know nothing of, to make you feel like you're failing as a mother, the only thing that's ever mattered to you... it hurts like nothing you can imagine.

No one knows, when I sit alone feeding my baby, the tears I cry because I have no home. I live somewhere where I'm not even comfortable enough to take care of my baby or myself, where my husband and I are insulted and treated without respect and I just have to be thankful. I can't fix my husband dinner and I watch him go hungry and can only feed my baby because a wise God made it possible for my body to do so. Six weeks from giving birth, I weighed less than when I got pregnant, not because I'm healthy and losing the baby weight, but because I am hungry. I try not to complain, to count my blessings, obviously I'm not starving and there are people worse off than I am. But I am hungry, the kind of hungry where you get dizzy and pass out. Even so, the only reason I got food stamps is at the persistence of people trying to take care of me. My "pride" won't let me see myself as needy. I have worked my butt off for years to be self reliant, I act strong when I am not, and I certainly have paid into "the system." I have served and given when I can.

I am not the kind of person to take the easy way out. I have been taking care of myself and others since I was 12 years old. The weight of various worlds have been placed on my shoulders and if I so much as flinch under the weight, I can't tell you how many people will fall apart. No one knows the tears I've cried as I've prayed so fervently to know the right things to do. And I dare say that no one knows the tears of joy I have also felt as God has led my life, given me help when I dared not ask for it, and the tears of gratitude as I've learned the means whereby he cares for his children.

I have given up nearly everything I have. I have not been able to buy one thing for my baby as a new mother would want to do. Nothing I have is my own. Even my marriage has to be fought for now because of outside influences. To think for one minute that I'm going to also leave my baby in the hands of people I cannot and do not trust... (I had to delete those words). We are doing the best that we can and it hurts like you can't imagine that it's not enough.

To all the no ones in my life, thank you for being there. Thank you for your understanding, your support, your encouragement and your help.

A Gold Mine of Faith

Last Sunday I watched a talk by President Hinckley, I think given in 1997. It was a year before the 150th year celebration of the pioneers coming to Utah and he talked of their faith. He said that Brigham Young must have been a prophet to foresee staying in the valley. No one else would have stayed in such a desolate place and called it the promised land!
He also talked of a group of people that held the belief that surely President Young was smart enough to continue on to California for the gold rushes. But President Young told them otherwise. He said that they would be far richer staying here than by going to any gold mine there. When I listened, I understood it to mean actual rich as in taken care of materially and not just a richness of spiritual blessings. Perhaps I sound flippant in saying that? I just mean it's hard to remember your spiritual blessings when there's no food on the table and I understood this as saying they would actually be better taken care of by having the faith to stay where it looked like nothing was going to grow. Anyway, my point is...
When I turned the t.v. over to the talk, I hoped to hear something I needed to hear. I felt like it was addressed to me. We shall be richer by doing what we know is right than by following our fear to the supposed security and sureity of the "gold mines."

To Me

Yay JoAnna!
Good job you!
You're doing the right thing.

These are things I need to hear right now.

Yesterday I did something hard for me. I felt dumb the way I did it because I felt I should approach it a different way but couldn't get myself to be strong and do it that way. But I did it my way and told myself all day it was okay to do things the way I need to do them.

Tonight, I needed to do something and spent two hours trying to not only get the baby taken care of so I could do it, but also trying to wrap my head around how to get it done, being in someone else's house. I kind of also kept waiting for someone else to take care of something, feeling that it wasn't my place to do it or I would do it wrong or get in the way etc but it needed to be done before I could do what I needed to do. Finally, I just said I had to be strong and take charge and do what I needed to. So, I did the other thing and then I did what I needed to the way I could do it. Even though it seemed like a small thing, it felt like an accomplishment.

Today I called my work and told them I won't be coming back. My boss is out of town and the person who is second in command has to find out what needs to be done for me to quit (paperwork etc) and get back to me. So, it's not over yet, but I took the next big step.
I was so scared I was shaking. I guess I was scared of making people mad at me. Afraid they'd tell me I couldn't? It probably doesn't make sense, but I was nervous. I was also nervous about whether I'm doing the right thing. I know when I look at my baby that leaving her is not an option. But when I talk to Jeff or some of our parents and think about our finances, it's hard to think that walking away from the job is right (this is when I'm not thinking of Rayne in the equation). We needed diapers this week and I was thinking of a few necessities that now we won't even have an income to get. It's really scary. But, I know that it's the right thing. I'm going on faith here, not to mention the grace of other people. I have felt a calmness. I'm very happy to think of being home with my baby. I feel so much better when I can look her in the eye and KNOW I'm not going to leave her.

For all these things, I just have to say yea. Good job me. Take a deep breath and know that things will be alright. Keep praying.

Just for fun

I decided what I want for my birthday :)
I'm not asking for this and doubt that I will get it, but it's been a while since I wanted or asked for anything so I thought it would be good for my mentality to say it out loud. I think some of you will get that...

I want one of those cool rocker/glider chairs that have the foot rests that glide too!
I sat in one at ShopKo last night and it would be so great to have a nice chair to sit in to hold my baby. It was so supportive and comfy at the same time. They were on sale for a decent price, but we have no money and we probably don't have space for one. But still, it felt good to want something.

(I should correct myself. I have asked for things lately. A lot of things. And people, especially mothers, have been very good about helping me and taking care of me. I just mean, it's been a while since I wanted something just because JoAnna wanted it and not out of necessity and/or for survival. It felt significant).

Celebrate

JEFF SAID I CAN QUIT MY JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am so excited... no, excited isn't the word. I feel such relief and calmness. It's scary to think of quitting my job when we have no other income. But since we actually made that decision, it's like I can see our life falling into place and I'm not scared anymore. I think that means it's the right thing to do.
For the last month at least, it's like I've been gearing myself up for war. I have really felt like I know what's right and I'm going to have to insist on it. To the point that I've been afraid that I will have to say this is what is right and what I'm doing and here's my back-up plan (ie. a way I'll do it on my own) if you don't want to support that. It's not like I really think Jeff would leave me because I quit my job, but somehow I just felt that fear anyway.
But, this is how it happened.
On the way to his mom's house Friday evening, Jeff said "have you put in your two weeks notice at your job yet?" It wasn't completely out of nowhere, but I can't remember what we were talking about and I'm pretty sure it didn't lead much into this. The last time we talked, he'd told me I'm going to have to go back and I started to cry and told him I didn't want to talk about it then (the baby was crying) and that I think it would be really bad for me to leave her. So, when he asked this, I wasn't sure how he meant it. I said I didn't think I could quit. He said he thought it's what we had planned on and HE was the one to tell me that it just didn't seem like it would make that much difference, we're living without my income now anyway etc. I was actually quite surprised.
I think we got interrupted because we stopped to get gas or something. Then we drove to his mom's. At some point, just to make sure it wasn't just the decision in this conversation and would change tomorrow, I asked if he was really okay with me quitting. He said he was and told me that he wants me to be home with the baby; when he talks about me working, he's just trying to be realistic. I think it's time we have some lessons in faith :)

Forgetting happily ever after?

Once upon a time, I didn't think it was lazy for a woman to quit her job to take care of her children. Once upon a time, I didn't think it was selfish to ask the dad to go to work to support the family while the mom stayed home to take care of them. Now, even as I work day and night constantly giving my physical and emotional energy to my baby, I'm starting to feel like it's selfish and lazy to ask that of him. Am I forgetting?

Once upon a time, I learned confidence as I worked through college, talking to really smart guys and taking really hard physics tests. People liked me and I was just as smart even on days when I didn't wear make up. Once upon a time, I learned self esteem as I stood before students and taught them a hard subject and they praised me for my talents. It wasn't just their praise that gave me self esteem, but the feeling of doing something I loved and was good at and was me. Am I forgetting?

Once upon a time, I had a vision of who I wanted to be today. The grace with which I would carry myself. The beauty I would portray. The strength and femininity I would emulate. Am I forgetting?

I woke up happy today, determined. Determined not to let the world run me, but to rule my own little kingdom and to remember...

Faith and Prayers

I have been so touched by people willing and WANTING to help me and my baby. We are going through some tough times right now but I worry I'm melo-dramatic or something. Have I made things out to be so bad when really they're not? I hope not. We do need some help and I feel there are big decisions to be made.
I've always wanted, as you all know, to be a stay at home mom. I believe this is so important. But now that she is here, it seems like an impossible dream and yet I know with every part of me that I can't leave her. Jeff says just because I have to go to work doesn't mean I'm not her mom. But it would feel that way. And especially at this point in her life, I think it would be that way. Anyway...
I have to be home with my baby and I'm praying so hard and trying so hard to think up a miracle to make it possible. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for talking, listening, praying, and doing. I really am awed by how much people care and want to help. For the record, Jeff too wants me to be home, he just doesn't see that it's possible. It is scary to quit my job when we have no other income. But I think I have to. Is that okay? Will faith really pull me through?
There are some options for food and health care and living arrangements. That's all that really matters at this point to me. I'm not really sure what to ask for. I thought the other night that if Jeff could just get a job, he'd be okay with me staying home and I could quit asking so many questions. I wanted to ask everyone to pray for that. Something's gotta give. I'm going to take this leap and hope we fly on some more meaningful plane.

Thoughts on Love

People have often told me that you just can't imagine what it feels like to love someone the way you love your own children. Some people have said it as an expression of the love they feel for their kids and an excitement for me to someday feel that too. Other people, I've felt like say it more like they belong to this exclusive club I had yet to be a part of. Either way, I always wondered if I really couldn't imagine what it would be like. I knew what it felt like to think about having babies; were my own feelings really that limited by lack of experience?
And, more importantly, I felt like I had experienced a love kind of like that. I was 11+ when my little sister was born. Our niece and nephew followed soon after. I often called my sister "my baby" as an expression of how I felt for her. I was there on her first day of kindergarten and I cried too. I was there to pick Gina up from school and try to help deal with some of her issues with her mom even when she was so young. And Jamesy- my Jamesy- was only 2 or 3 when I graduated from high school and I spent a lot of time taking care of him. He's getting ready to graduate from high school and I still feel like he's my boy. The love I have for him, for all 3 of these kids, will never go away.
I have always referred to these kids as my kids, my babies. This was not at all intended to take away from their parents or anything like that. It was just an expression of how much I loved them.
I have a daughter now. I am so in love with her. That's what amazes me- the infatuation, the awesomeness, the fascination- I feel for her. In a lot of ways, it is like having a crush on someone and falling in love. That was a bit of a surprise. But honestly? The love I feel for her really is no more than what I've felt before, especially for my three other kids. I have more obligation and responsibility for Rayne, but I really feel like I've felt this way before. To me, it doesn't diminish what I feel for any of these people, it just compounds it.

Jeff said something once about me loving the baby more than I love him. I really hope he doesn't feel that way or feel neglected, although there has been a lot of adjustment. I can honestly say that the baby has 100% of my heart and Jeff too has 100% of my heart and soul. Doesn't that make 200%?
It does seem to me that some people's hearts are compartmentalized or something. If they've given- ever- any part of their heart to someone, it doesn't exist to give to anyone else. I can see that if you once love someone, no matter how it turns out, you might always love them. A part of you may always be theirs or with them or whatever. But is it really so untouchable ever again?

Which brings me to romantic love. I've been wondering why we insist on it being so exclusive? Not that I don't think it should be, I just wonder where that notion comes from (and no, Kiki, I'm not being unromantical, just asking the question). My grandmothers had to live with polygamy. How in the world did they deal with that? Why are some of us so jealous with such strict notions of fidelity while others have some other definition with lines of "just friends" drawn supposedly without a threat to the one true thing?

happy days

I first want to say again how amazing it is to me how God answers our prayers. There is something I've been praying about for a while now and there have been times when I pray that exactly what I ask for happens that very day. Other times, I pray and pray about the issue and it hasn't been until I finally let go or listen and say maybe I need to ask this instead of that, and then this happens and makes things all okay. Recently again, things have happened to fix the situation and I know God is taking care of me. For that I am so grateful.

...

We spent yesterday and last night at Jeff's mom's house in Lake Point. We visited her in the morning and are house sitting. They have a big open multi level house on a lot of land. On one side of the house is a small cemetary which I guess some people would find creepy but I find it quite calming and it adds to the openness of the whole area. It is a quiet neighborhood with lots of open space, a good view of mountains, and yesterday I even had to go around people riding horses down the street. We can see the Salt Lake from the deck in back.
What I'm saying is, i love it here! i would love to buy my little log house on the manufactured lot and put it on some land out here and learn to plant a garden. it's so quiet and peaceful and really not that far from Salt Lake. Sigh... someday...
i have relaxed so much. there are two bathrooms here! and only the three of us. it's quiet and i'm not tripping over dogs (although i must admit we both miss our dog already). it's been so nice just being the three of us and being able to get in and find food and make dinner and eat it when we're ready. i even took a long shower with fabulous water pressure. i woke up today dreaming of scrapbook pages and really wanting to take a walk- what a difference!!!

Perfect

The other day, Rayne sat in her bouncy seat on the kitchen counter while I ate some Cheerios. I was quite over come by her perfection. Of course, I think she has perfect features, but it wasn't just how she looked. She sat there looking around, just being a baby, but she was so perfect just being. She was completely everything she is.

There is a scripture in the D&C about the earth becoming celestial because it fills the measure of it's creation. I love that. Perfection is filling the measure of our creation- reaching our potential- being what we are and were made to be.

Being pregnant was the hardest thing I've ever done. Thankfully, labor wasn't as bad as I expected, but it still was something you can't imagine. My body has seriously been through... a very bad place :) I feel so good now not being pregnant. But I think part of that feeling good is feeling strong that I did it ... and lived. My body fulfilled its purpose.

Yesterday I went to mom's house and she, Khrystine and I spent a lot of the day looking at family pictures. I love pictures and scrapbooks and blogs etc. I felt a lot of love for everyone. Funny, but I also felt love for myself. As I see myself in relation to these other people and how we are all connected, it makes me feel good about even my little quirks. I even saw pictures of myself and... well, I'm pretty. I really get too hard on myself. Too stressed out about life. I need to just perfectly be me.

And now for a nice post

Yesterday, we spent the afternoon at Jeff's grandma's with his grandma and mom. We took our laundry and guess what?!?! They did all my laundry, even folded it!, fed me lunch and let me take a nap. They even helped and were encouraging when the baby had a hard time eating.

The same thing happens at my mom's house. I can let mom or someone hold the baby and I can go to the bathroom, get something to eat, etc etc.

Thank heaven for good moms!

To anyone who will sympathize with irrational thoughts

The baby had a rough day yesterday. Breastfeeding is hard. We get better at it, then have a rough time again. She cried a lot yesterday and we just kept trying and spent time trying to be calm.
When it was time for dinner, I could hear the upstairs t.v. in our room, which means it was up loud. Then Jeff opened our door to take some stuff up there and it was REALLY loud. That's not going to be good, I thought. I had just calmed the baby down and figured if I get upstairs and she starts screaming, people will either have to put up with it or it will be a good excuse to come back down and hide. So I got upstairs and she was okay but then I tried to put her in a little bouncy seat. This of course upset her. I tried to calm her with her binki and talking to her and they turned the t.v. up even louder!!! to hear over her. Thanks, that's going to help. I know babies are supposedly "used to noise" but I think it was different in the womb than all these new sensations.
When she didn't calm down, I took her out and went in the kitchen where we were at least away from people and rocked her and calmed her down. Then I went and sat in the living room and held her while I tried to eat.
So then "grandma and grandpa" want to hold her. I suppose I am a bit possessive but I get really nervous when other people have her. Not all people, just some. Some people can hold her all day long and I'm okay. I haven't had her upstairs much and have even told people no when they've wanted her because I had just calmed her or something. I thought I should "be nice" and give them a chance. Plus I knew she'd need to eat soon so if I could just go to the bathroom it would be good.
As soon as they took her, a stupid little chihuahua about jumped in her face and started barking and scared her half to death. I was so upset I wanted to cry. As dumb as it sounds, I had to just sit there trying to breathe, trying to "be nice" and give them a chance with the baby. It was freaking me out.
Sunday night is mine and Jeff's dish night. Everybody has a turn. So once we finished eating, I made him go start dishes while we had a spare second. I hated even being in a different room than the baby, especially if people were no more aware and concerned about the stupid dogs than that. I keep doing things, like dishes, because I feel good enough but then by the time I'm through, I'm pretty sore- like just from bending to put stuff in the dishwasher.
Then Jeff's dad came in the kitchen to see what we were doing. You wanna know what he said to me? He said, I know she's used to her mama and she calms down better for you than anyone else, but it would probably be good for her to get used to other people.
I simply said "why? I'm not going anywhere."
What I really wanted to say was "Look you stupid over bearing people. She's not even 2 weeks old yet. WE are still getting used to each other! I defy any of you to be sick everyday for 9 months, have aches and pains and weird things going on in your body that you can't even imagine, worry and pray everyday that the baby will even live and that your body is strong enough to support her life and THEN go through labor and contractions, which you can't even imagine or describe how they feel, push a baby out, bleed and leak and have absolutely NO privacy or dignity left (all while your poor husband is standing there watching), not to mention stitches in unmentionable places, be more exhausted than you've ever been in your life and quit sleeping, try breast feeding which is not an easy, nurturing, natural thing to do at all!, fall in love harder than you've ever been both with your baby and your spouse AND THEN WHAT??? Just walk away? So that she can "get used to" other people??? What do you think SHE'S been through in these 10 days? New sensations, new muscles, new everything!!! She needs some peace. She needs some comfort. So STAY AWAY FROM MY BABY you psycho, greedy, unhelpful people!"
Of course people offer to hold the baby, like you need help with that. Okay, sometimes I DO have to go the bathroom, but really what I need help with is things like taking out the garbage, doing the dishes, cleaning my room, doing laundry. Does anyone think of that? NO! And fine, I don't want them in my space anyway, but that means I don't want them in MY SPACE.

Aren't I ornery?

Hair Cuts Plus and The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

Actually, I think it was Great Clips. Yesterday I chopped off my hair. I haven't had shorter hair in years! I freakin love it! The lady was so great and spent the time to do a good job and tell me what she was doing and help me know how to do it myself.
If you can imagine, it looks even better today than when she did it yesterday. AND she (no I) used NO styling products- it feels so good! Usually it takes me a week to try to get it like they did it, give up and do it my own way and then feel a bit disappointed that it's not better. I spent a bit of time this morning- I'm quite awkward with round brushes AND hair dryers- but I really like it. Not sure what Jeff thinks yet though. Perhaps it was too much of a change for him.

In the process of yesterday, I spent some good time with my parents and Khrys. Of course, Dad didn't want to go to the hair place etc, leaving the girls to do our girlie thing. The hair place is right next to Starbuck's so after my hair, we went in for some incredibly good hot chocolate and lots of girl talk. I need a brighter lipstick or something to go with the hair. Any color suggestions?

Khrys keeps telling me and mom that we fit too well the "too good mother" archetype. Mom and I say yes we do and maybe we're push overs and sometimes we feel taken for granted. On the other hand, we don't want to change. We REALLY don't want to be like... we'll just say the opposite of what we are (no naming names). And so we talked...

This morning I woke up thinking... by the end of junior high, I had a pretty good group of friends. If you imagine us sitting at our lunch table, people would come and go but there was a pretty solid core group. We were all best friends, but throughout high school, people would come and go, sometimes not come back, and often we'd be a bit "paired up." Some weeks, Christine would be my best friend because she'd be the one to understand something I was going through. Other weeks, Christine and Heidi would be best friends because they went on a camping trip together and discovered all the fun things they have in common. It wasn't a big deal. No hurt feelings or jealousies or anything like that. It was just the ebb and flow of our friendships.

In a way, my friends helped me out of the shell I'd climbed into when I entered junior high. With my friends, I could at least fake it and be confident and popular or whatever. But, the reality was, throughout high school, I probably retreated more as I learned more about myself. I always saw it as a fear and a lack of confidence. In retrospect I see it as a protection, a valuing of myself and trying to protect that from a mean and vicious world. The point is, I do realize that a lot of what I'm about to say was my own doing.

Today I was thinking how I've always felt like the friend that was the constant. I was the friend that people could come to when they had problems or needed to talk and be listened to or just understood and accepted. But I was not the friend that you'd take out on a double date or to Lagoon or anything "fun" and adventurous. It just wasn't my style I suppose. I was the quiet friend. The one who often got overlooked.
In a group of girls, even if I was actually the prettiest :), boys wouldn't look at me because they wanted the loud, fun, flirty, easy, outgoing girl.
Even within my family, we often tease about who is the favorite. I really think my siblings have a lot more to offer because they have more dynamic personalities. It's their not being good or perfect that makes us value them more and we wouldn't want them to be any other way. I, on the other hand, need to be the constant. I am the good kid. I am the care giver, at least to our parents and the younger ones. I may not be the funnest or most interesting, but I have my place, my role.
One time I heard someone give a "personality test" that categorized you based on a line that showed your energy. One was a dotted flitting line, like a flying bee. This was for people who are a bit flighty but outgoing and busy and idealisitic. Another was a sharp zig zag type line for people who are more in control and proper and goal oriented. One was a flat line for people who are more about other people. They are like the mirrors that reflect the light rather than the candles giving it off. They are the calm. That, I knew, was me.
In college, I learned to be okay with that. I wasn't all those other things and I didn't really want to be. Somewhere along the way I learned what value there was in being the constant, the nice one, the reliable one. People need that friend just as much, if not more?, than any other type of friend. I was okay with myself. In fact I learned to like myself. And I started to trust that someday I would find that one guy who appreciated that in me. And really, I feel accepted and loved in my family so no worries there. I didn't need lots of friends, I just needed the ones I had. I didn't need a lot of dates, I just needed to fall in love. And, in my own way, I need to be the giving one in the family and feel like I serve them some kind of purpose for my own sanity.

All this being said, I still woke up today (perhaps in a bad mood with a stinky dog whining at and licking me and having to go the bathroom for the 3rd time in 6 hours etc) and instead of feeling the good things about being me, felt like I'm just being over looked again. Like I'm back in junior high world where people don't quite yet know to value that constant friend. It's like everyone wants to be in with the cool crowd and be friends with the loud and popular kids, have the hot girlfriend, and there I am... invisible.

I have just over a week (who really knows? Yikes!) until I become a mom. I don't want to be an invisible mom.
When Jeff told me he loved me, I felt finally someone had seen me for who I really am. At some point, I asked how he knew it and he told me all the things about me that I always wanted someone to see. I've felt confident in that for a long time now. But, I worry with all the changes etc, is he going to get bored? Is it really enough or does even he need that someone who is... different than what I have to offer?
And now I have new families. I don't know that they really see or can value my calm, constant nature. I know there are some of them it's hard for me to be around because even though I have absolutely no desire to be like them, I feel inferior because I'm not.

I don't want to be invisible. But how can the breeze not be without becoming a storm? How can the ebb and flow of the tide be anything but constant unless it rages? How can a mirror do anything but reflect back the world around it without breaking?

Prideful faith? or Powerful faith?

There's a Christian song I haven't heard for a while that says "In me, is the faith to move mountains." I'm not sure if the song is about the power Christ has in our lives or if it's about the power we have through our faith. I guess it's kind of the same in my mind. I like the song and thinking that I have that strength within me.

Lately there's been all kinds of things floating like led through the air around us. Sometimes I pray desparately, knowing there is nothing I can do and feeling like I need to be rescued. Sometimes I don't even know what to pray for. Other times, my prayers are quite specific as I try to solve the problem or do something on my own to show action when all it really amounts to is my own idea of what might help (just a note, some of these prayers have been answered so quickly, so specifically that it makes me feel like I'm doing/asking something right. One of my favorite scriptures is when the Lord asks the brother of Jared what he would have Him do to put light in the vessels. I think it's a very good teacher and father that would help us to figure things out on our own).
Some of my strongest prayers lately, the ones that give me the most peace and direction, seem to come when I start to believe in my own faith. I've prayed asking for what I think I need, or even in the desparate times of not knowing, and started to think of other prayers that have been answered in my life. I've thought that my faith was strong enough to fix or help some situation before, it has to be worth something now. I've thought (perhaps to the point of insistence?) that my desire for what is good and right has to be stronger and win out over the scary stuff out in the world. That my trying to do the right things and be good and desiring what God has to give has to win out over things and people that are... well, just not doing these things. I've even wondered if my prayers can intervene to at least some extent for people who may not be looking for it just because of who they are to me... like I have some sort of jurisdiction as a wife, parent, even child, that my faith can have power in their lives even when they aren't looking for it (I know, that whole free agency thing, but that's what I mean. Is my faith strong enough, can I pray for things for people, like the parents of Alma the younger?)
I suppose it's hard to put in words when I don't want to give specific examples. But today I was walking into work and that song popped in my head. "In me is the faith to move mountains." I've been feeling like if I cling to this and trust in this, everything is going to be okay. I don't think it's a faith in myself really, the faith is in God to hear me, do what He can and will, and then help me through the rest. Perhaps it's more like a conviction or a resolution to focus on faith, to be believing, to trust and doubt not. Maybe that's what all those things mean.... to HAVE faith. Perhaps it's something that sometimes we have to cling to rather than just let be there.

A penny for your thoughts

When someone says they love you, be it spouse, parent, friend, what do you think they see in you? What makes them love you? If you asked for reasons, what reasons would make you feel special? If someone were trying to "convince" you that you're loveable, that you're special, that you're "worth it," what would you need to hear?

Update

Last week Jeff started school and a new job! Wow!
He is going to school at Utah Career College to go into IT (computer stuff). He has class three nights a week from 6 until about 10, depending on the night. It's hard having him gone but it turns out the one class is just every other week so that helps. And, that's what we're here for right?
His mom works for the state tax commission and knew about some temp jobs there. His job is seasonal through tax season but it's something. I was afraid he'd be bored out of his mind and hate it. But, so far it's not too bad. He opens envelopes with a machine and sorts papers etc. He gets up at 4 in the morning to be there by 5 and gets done by 1:30. I've changed my work schedule so I'm getting there by 8 so I can be done a bit earlier and be home before he leaves on school nights.

As for me, I'm getting bigger and more hungry. I really don't eat enough :( This week I've actually felt pretty good physically- not so sore and tight in my muscles. I've trained my people enough at work that a big load has been taken off of me and I've had time this week to write up notes and get organized for leaving. I even turned in my paper work for maternity leave. If it's approved (? I don't really know the process) my last day will be May 5th. My mom and I hoped to take off more time before but as I was looking at things, it just worked out better that way. With FMLA I can take up to 12 weeks off. By taking this late date to start, that means I don't have to be back until the end of July. In the mean time, we will just hope and pray and see how it all works out. I plan to stay with my mom after the baby is born so I don't have to live around all these teenage boys when dealing with breast feeding etc and so I don't have to go up and down so many stairs just to go to the bathroom.

It's hard living in someone else's house. I'm trying to be more positive about it. I've decided in that way, I'm more supportive of Jeff and I feel better too. We spend a lot of time in our room and I go to my mom's once a week. One of these days, I'm going to get our room set up and feel like we are actually living here instead of living around what's here! Haha. It's a bit crowded but we're doing okay.

FYI

In case anyone should miss me, I have it on good authority that I better watch my personal use of the internet at work. As in I probably should have none at all. I feel so isolated and alone and it's only been 2 days!!!!!

I thought with Jeff being at school 2-3 nights a week, I'll have time to blog and be lonely and looking for communication with my outside world. I might just have to put my feet up, but here's to already missing all of you!

A cause without a rebel

Sometimes I think I have an abnormal respect for authority. I doubt if I've ever felt even an ounce of rebellion... at least longer than fleetingly. Perhaps it's not a respect for but a fear of authority?

When I was young, my dad told me that one of my talents was obedience. He's told me again as an adult and it seems to be more as an admirable quality he sees in me as a person, not just something he appreciated in a parent/child relationship. I think this is a good thing. My love for math comes from knowing that if I just follow certain rules and principles I can figure out some pretty interesting and big problems. I'm sure my obedience in life is a search for this same reassurance. I think too, the "talent" part is a blessing; it seems I've always been able to see consequences of actions. No need for me to touch the hot stove to know what it means to be hot; I just get it.

On the other hand, I sometimes feel like Ella in Ella Enchanted. When someone tells me to do something, I have to no matter how much I distrust them or don't want to etc. It leaves me rather powerless and, especially as an adult, that is not a good thing.

We now live with Jeff's dad and step mom. I feel like a child again. I feel I owe them respect and defference and I think I believe that this is true being that we are living in their house etc. That's okay. But past a certain point, I really need to still feel like an adult.

I guess I won't broadcast the details over the internet for everyone to see, but recently we actually "got in trouble" for something that I really felt was no one else's business. I could see why the parents would feel or see things the way they did, but really, they didn't know the details of the situation and no matter what, it was our situation, not theirs, to deal with. Even if it was their business, I don't believe in "talking" to people the way it was handled and felt completely disrespected as a person. This is not okay, no matter who's the boss or who's house it is etc. Even as the dad, I don't believe children should EVER be talked to the way we were.
Perhaps I should forgive and forget and things are fine this week. Perhaps I do hold grudges, but I don't even want to say that. I felt a need to defend myself and I don't know how and THAT's what I'm trying to talk about here. I don't even know if defending myself is okay.

And I guess that's the question. Having this abnormal sense of authority and being submissive, how do I even know what my rights are?

I know it looks like Jeff and I got ourselves in a big mess and had no other choice. We are truly living on the grace of other people. But even though we didn't have a lot of options, we did try to be deliberate about the choices we did have. We have goals and expectations for ourselves. There are things we're trying to accomplish and ideals we're trying to hold onto. We just asked for help; does that make us invalid human beings? Does that mean we now have to be, or even can be, told everything we can and can't do?

I've really been trying to be positive this week. I've tried to at least in my own mind come up with a mission statement for us so that we can stay focused on what we're doing and not get bogged down by all this other stuff. I had hoped this was leading up to that. I hoped (I know I'm at work but still) to have some time today to get myself together. It doesn't look like that's going to happen. So, I'll just leave it as this and be back later...

Random thoughts that connect as they flow through my head but might not when I say them out loud

I'm really glad I have a family that treats people with respect. It seems like no matter how different anyone is, we try to see their point of view and understand where they are coming from. There's a sincerity in valuing people. We, especially some of you, can discuss things and talk about different sides of the issue without being preachy and insisting on being right (this of course excludes some Thanksgiving dinner conversations between SOME people, especially when it comes to politics :) but that's all in good fun right?).
I'm glad I learned to value things like education and art and people and family and ideals. I've been a bit culture shocked in the last few years that not everyone sees past here and now and worldly stuff.

I remember driving from my grandpa's funeral to the cemetery- it was SO far away!- and then back to the church for lunch. I quite dislike funerals; they are sad no matter how much faith and hope you have in an afterlife and the person being in a better place. Perhaps that's what made Grandpa's funeral so thought provoking. I knew he was a good man and after some of the physical limitations he experienced before he died, I knew he was in heaven and I'm sure happy to be there. I could just see him doing cartwheels and laughing. But I was also so sad that he was gone. During the drive, I remember thinking about life and how it had all just stopped for the last few days. Everything I had going on was set aside and just not nearly as important as I had thought.
Today I read about an earthquake in Italy. There was a lot of devastation and I thought for those people the whole world has just changed. Very old cities have been wiped out to the point they don't even exist anymore. It made me think about my life and what I'm doing and what I'm working for and how fleeting it could be. What really then is important?

I watched conference over the weekend. The peace and calmness that it brings were especially welcome this time. There seemed to be a lot of talk of faith and doing what's right even though it's getting hard.
I want to have faith. I want to be like the people you read about who do the right things and then things work out for them. I want to be brave and face the lion's den because I know what I'm doing is right. Because I don't want anyone or anything to change me and what's inside. I think I have the conviction, I'm just not sure I have the strength to fight for it.

If your whole world can disappear so easily, you better know what it is that will stay with you or what really matters. And you better start living for it.

Evidence to support my claim :)

Taking a bit of a break at work today, I clicked on an article about adult separation anxiety. It was interesting. I copied some of it not really doing with adults as well as the linke below. Hmm...

During infancy, all mammals suffer distress if they are separated from their mothers. Our brains are wired for this. Human babies are helpless and simply cannot survive without their parents, so their brains are acutely sensitive to signals of possible abandonment, according to Bruce Perry, M.D., Ph.D., a senior fellow at the ChildTrauma Academy, a not-for-profit in Houston.
And babies need their parents not just physically, but emotionally. It's through these first relationships that they learn not only how to love, but also how to cope with stress by seeking care and being caring.
Normally, separation anxiety appears at about six months. Although babies can recognize their mothers much earlier, at this age—when they're usually beginning to be able to crawl or otherwise move around on their own—they start to get anxious when they can't see her. While previously, other familiar people could hold and soothe them easily, now no one but Mama (and sometimes Dad) is acceptable.
Ordinarily, children outgrow this anxiety, and often experience new bouts of it when faced with stressful situations like starting a new school. With responsive parents who always ultimately return, kids learn to trust that they can be safe in the world.

Some people are also biologically more sensitive. One important factor seems to be the functioning of the brain's endogenous opioid system. Endogenous opioids are the brain's own painkillers, similar to heroin and morphine.
"Just like humans, animals emit distress calls when they are separated from their mothers," says MauricePreter, M.D., a neurologist and assistant professor of clinical psychiatry at Columbia University. "They go up in intensity and become more frequent with separation, and the opposite occurs with a reunion, or if you give opioids." Blocking brain opioids in animals increases separation distress. Basically, normal babies become addicted to their parents, though it's a temporary phase.

http://health.msn.com/health-topics/depression/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100235522&gt1=31009

Feelings, nothing? more than feelings

I always tell myself my feelings are wrong. I shouldn't feel this way. This is a bad emotion.
I guess I believe- from somewhere- that feelings are just a flight or fancy and should be controlled and watched over. They really aren't that important.
I don't really believe that, but I think it's part of my wiring or something.
One of my thoughts as I considered new year resolutions this year was that as I become a mother, I need to give myself some credit. Not only do my children need to see me as a real and valid person (ie. not criticising every thought and feeling and acting like I'm in the wrong) for the whole respect and discipline thing, but I think it's somehow important for their self esteem to have a mother they can look up to and have confidence in. That confidence needs to start in me for myself.
As we prepared to move and take this big step, I also told myself that it's more important now than ever to share my feelings with Jeff- even if they are stupid or wrong or whatever- so that I don't disappear as a person. So that I validate myself and even just to keep communication open and flowing with him.
I've felt a lot of things lately. It's just hard living with other people. Some of what I feel, or at least where it's coming from, is quite valid. Some of it probably is just adjusting or even hormones. Some of it may be petty or silly really. I'm getting better at just saying it anyway.
Other things that I'm struggling with emotionally go so much further than that. It's spiritual and big and grand and logical and psychological. As I get caught up in these issues, it's so hard to express it all. I want him (or anyone else) to know the grandness, the importance of it. But how do you express that?
Sometimes I'm surprised that things that feel so tangibly right or wrong to me are not seen the same by other people. Sometimes I have to just realize that what affects one person in one way, affects someone else completely differently. So what do you do about that when it's significant people that see significant things differently?

In the last week, I've come to the conclusion that there are things in my life I just have to insist on. I've got to start taking better care of myself and recognizing some of my needs. And as baby time gets closer and closer, there are things I feel I have to insist on for her. I'm the mother and no one else knows what needs are there.
It's a big step when I'm just thinking I'm getting comfortable expressing what feels like little emotions to insisting on big, life changing, life important things. Any advice?

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I am easily offended by people who give unsolicited advice and opinions. Such people usually have an air of superiority and are not talking to have a discussion but talking to hear themselves and be the boss. Even though I know I'm not, I often am left feeling stupid and inferior or at least like that's how these people see me.
Being a people pleaser/peace maker, sometimes it's my fault that people see or treat me this way. Often, I talk down about myself or act inferior because I don't want to make the other person feel bad or inferior or it's just easier than insisting on the fact that I'm right and they don't know what they are talking about.
Last night I decided it's time to start acting with a bit more self respect. Maybe if I treated myself like I'm "better than that" and acknowledge in myself that I'm smart and capable, it will come across, not in a superior way, but at least in a way that people won't talk down to me and try to control or boss certain parts of my life. It's helped already today just to have that thought in mind.
What's the saying? "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and, doggonit, people like me."

If you can't say something nice...

I think I haven't posted lately because I've been having a hard time and don't feel like I have much positive to say. It's really hard living with people and I feel so ungrateful even saying that. It's not like I don't like these people, it's just an adjustment. New rules, new surroundings, dogs everywhere. Plus I'm just really worn out being pregnant and have to just keep going and going. I even got sick within the first week or two of living there- it's a head cold and I'm over it for the most part, but I can't seem to get it out of my sinuses. I'm worried I'm allergic to all the dogs together, not to mention the gallons of perfumey stuff I inhale everyday at work. I really get annoyed by people I have to deal with at work- even the ones that don't smell "good." I even think mean thoughts!

Other than that, I don't suppose there's much to say about it. There's no point in complaining really. At least not "publicly." We are where we are and you just keep going forward.

Last night Jeff and I had a discussion about things that left me in tears for most the night. I always think we "fight" well- it is more of a discussion and we usually figure it out before it gets too drawn out. Sometimes though, it just ends with him being mad, me crying and/or at least one of us just going off and sleeping somewhere. I don't think that's really bad. It gives us a chance to clear our heads and pull our thoughts together and figure it out later. I think that's what happened last night. In the end, it's all okay. We're together and on the same page with things and we just have to keep figuring stuff out.

Strangely, last night I felt some strength rising in me. A take charge kind of feeling I hadn't felt for a long time. Instead of thinking I have to give in or smooth things over, I felt like I needed to say this is it, this is how things are going to go. I even almost felt like I matter and what I think and feel matters. Sometimes I think the thing that bugs Jeff the most is that I treat myself like it doesn't or I don't.

I suppose the reason I'm such a people pleaser/peace maker is that my biggest fear is losing the person. I don't know why this would extend to people I don't care about losing, but that's not the topic today. In some way, last night I felt like I matter enough that if losing the other person is the consequence of me mattering, then so be it. I felt a need, maybe even an ability?, to defend myself. (I should note here that a lot of this fight, at this point, was within me, not with or against him). I felt strong enough to, at least in my own mind, throw off all the people and expectations and say what needs to be. It's getting it from my head to reality that's the problem.

My Mumsy

Last night I went out with my mom. We went to a little diner place that has really good food and is quite inexpensive (I think). I ate pancakes- yum! One of the few real cravings I get. And we went to the fabric store and ShopKo to look at baby stuff. It's so much fun. There are so many pretty things! And yet, I get a bit confused because everything is so cute, I want this and that and something else, but at the same time can't settle and want to be a bit smart and frugal about things. Hmm...

I talk a lot to my mom. Sometimes I worry I tell her more than she wants to know. Sometimes I worry I'm too gossipy and judgemental. But I also think I'm just sorting through my head and it helps so much to have someone that listens and relates and talks back without trying to fix it or change my mind, but just understands.

I feel an especial need for my mom because I'm pregnant. For all the people I talk to and tell me their experiences, I feel like my mom's the only one who really knows. That's not to discount other people, it just seems like in things like this, you tend to be like your mom so she's a good one to go to for help. Besides, it's more comfortable telling her stuff than anyone else.

This isn't nearly as eloquent as I would like to be. I just thought I'd check in because I'm feeling really good today. Physically I feel better than I have in a while and mentally and emotionally I feel back on track. I think being with my mom has a lot to do with this. I'm excited and feel ready to take the next step. We've moved, now get settled and get ready for baby! That's a fun, relieved feeling to have finally. Thanks mom!

There's no place like... my own bed

Last night was our first night in our new living situation. After work, I went to the apartment to get a few forgotten things we needed for the night and morning. I tried not to cry driving there knowing it's not home any more. I walked in the empty apartment without even the dog to greet me and started to cry. I stood in the doorway to our bedroom and cried, thinking of our little memories.
The day we moved in, we hadn't seen our actual apartment yet, just the model. They gave us our keys and a check list to go look before we signed the final agreement etc. When we walked into the empty apartment that day, we both had such a calm feeling of "this is home." I've loved walking in the neighborhood, just going in the "backyard." I loved the red brick wall on the patio. I loved having a patio! I loved my angled cupboards in the kitchen.

I didn't stay too long and drove out to Jeff's dad's house. When I got there, I think I felt scared to go in. I didn't want to cry in front of people, especially people who have been so generous to share their home with us. Luckily, Jeff came out to help me carry stuff and knew that I would be sad. He hugged me and talked me through it and the other boys came out to help carry stuff.
Jeff was excited to show me the room that he'd set up for us (he and his step dad moved our final big stuff to the house yesterday- the bed and chests of drawers and stuff we needed for the night). We went down stairs and looked around. Funny enough, when I walked in the room and Jeff was there, I still felt like I was home.
Our bed looks small, which is good because that means the room feels big. And against the wall you walk in facing, there is a pretty wooden vanity with shelves up the side of the mirror and drawers in the desk part. They were going to throw it away, but Jeff thought I would like it. It was great to have a place to set up my stuff. The sister who used to have the room had put those glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling and down some of the walls. When it's dark, they glow and it feels really cool.
After settling some of my stuff, I went up to have dinner. I was SO hungry by then it's no wonder I was crying. Everyone else had already eaten, but the food was still set out on the counter so I could get dinner. What a relief to have someone else think it up and lay it out. They've planned sandwich nights all week to make the moving and working everyone is doing a bit easier. They also had four different kinds of jello. I don't know why, but jello is even better being pregnant. I think it's sweet and wet (I get very hungry for fruit for this reason too) and it supposedly has good protein (I'll just believe it, I've never read the label).
I ate and sat on the couch with everybody around watching t.v. We haven't had any t.v. in at least 4 months. It's sad to admit it, but I've missed it and was glad to be watching anything- even commercials- and didn't care what it was. I relaxed a lot.
When we went to bed, I got in bed while Jeff was checking something to do with the computer (we now have internet again because we can connect to theirs wirelessly). I lay down and ahhhh! I said, hey, this is my bed. It felt so good.
Being in the basement, there are a lot of stairs for a pregnant lady. We were the last ones to go to bed so we turned off all the lights and the house was pretty dark. There is a light on the stairs but we hadn't turned in on yet. The dog (our dog) went down first and suddenly we heard a quick thump, thump, thump. It's mean, but we both laughed at the thought of her tripping down the stairs. When I got up at my normal 2 o'clock to go to the bathroom, it was a long way up the stairs, but I must admit, the thought was worse than actually doing it. I slept really well last night.
This morning when my alarm went off, I didn't want to get out of bed until I knew I could get in the bathroom. I was sure I heard water and waited for a long time thinking someone sure takes long showers. Finally we got up because one of the dogs came down to find our dog and they were making really weird noises on both sides of our door. We jumped up thinking we better get Niobe outside.
In a way, it helped to have such a busy house in the morning. I tried to hurry and do what I needed so that others can do what they needed. Nicely, they were all hurrying to get out of my way. It all went smoothly and by the time I was dressed, everyone was gone except me, Jeff's dad (who is starting a new job next week), Jeff and all the dogs. I ate shredded wheat for breakfast and was able to make a good fat sandwhich on wheat bread for lunch.

I think we're going to be okay.

Down and Up

Believe it or not, I'm trying to have a good attitude and not complain, but I think if I don't talk myself through this, I may go insane :)

Officially, we started moving out last weekend. We took mom's couch back to her and left my beautiful painting, thankfully, in her custody. We started packing boxes. Monday, Jeff spent the day at his dad's house to help clear out an old shed and start building two new ones they bought. I dropped Jeff off on my way to work and picked him up after. We ended up staying for dinner and even though Monday was surprisingly calm, I expected a busy hard day, so was okay with not getting much (okay, getting any) packing done.
Monday night, I didn't sleep at all. My stomach hurt from eating garlic and onions (smart move there) and my muscles were achy. Tuesday was a harder day this week than Monday. By the time I got home, I was crying, not for any emotional reason, but just because I was tired. Jeff told me not to worry about packing (not a smart move either I'm sure) and made dinner and took care of me. This was very nice, but by last night, I was getting really nervous about packing and moving.
His mom and step dad are about the only ones we know with trucks, trailers etc and they are going to be out of town the next few weekends. This means his mom wants to move us Friday. We are so dependent on other people it's driving me crazy. Friday may or may not work because of my lack of packing but also because the shed building thing is not going so quickly and that's where a lot of our stuff will be going. Also, until the sheds are built, his dad and step mom can't finish cleaning out our room because it's mostly used as storage now. So when we have help to move us, we may not have a place to move it to. I feel like I'm going in circles.

Anyway, last night I insisted on getting some packing done. I felt like I accomplished so much in relatively little time. But then I stopped and looked around and we're still not ready to go! And my back and stomach hurt so much just from what I did, I couldn't go any more. Jeff is really good to help, but I keep feeling, perhaps wrongly or being too controlling, that I need to do it so I know where my stuff is and can be organized about it.

I have a beautiful roll top desk I got for Christmas when I was in junior high. Ideally, I'd like to have it in our room, becuase it is special and highly practical. But, there may not be room. One goal last night was to finish cleaning it out. I feel like it's a treasure chest. I try to keep it mostly practical, but it also houses things like coloring books and little games and stationary that make me happy. Thinking of what I need versus what can be stored or given away was quite difficult. We don't know how long we'll be there, but kind of have a year in our head because time goes by fast and we do have to get a baby here etc. A year from now, my life will be completely different. I will probably be completely different. How do I know what I'll wish I had and what I won't? If it's just going in storage anyway, there's a lot of stuff that doesn't seem worth keeping. All of this combined to make me very sad. I cried as I packed, threw away, and tried to treasure my little things.

I hope it doesn't sound too worldly. I never think of myself as a material person. That's why the things I do have are so special. They are my treasures. They are what will someday, again, make my home my home. That's not so wrong is it?!

After the desk, I took some pictures off the wall and packed away my books, journals, scriptures- my real treasures that I want to make sure I have available and are taken care of. Once the pictures come off the wall, it really feels empty to me. But by this point, I'd pulled my emotions together and was focused on being productive. I packed some more boxes and then, feeling done for, just wanted to make sure I had what baby stuff we do have put together. Also some important stuff right now. I knew I had a few little treasures stowed away in my cedar chest and wanted to make sure I got those out, not knowing where the cedar chest will live for a while either. That was a fun box to look into!

I didn't have as much in it as I thought. But I do have a sweatshirt I got when my grandma died, purely for sentimental reasons. It's what she wore a lot before she died and I wanted it because it's how I remembered her (I was 10). I also have a couple dolls my mom made for me when I was little. I was awed at the time and talent she put into them. I have a little stuffed dog that's about worn out- like my Velveteen rabbit- that I slept with while my parents were in Hawaii when I was about 9. My mom took one dog and I took the other so that we would stay connected that way. His name is Caramel Cashew and hers was Hot Fudge Sundae.

And then the baby things. I had more than I remembered. I have a few books I've somehow collected and was so happy to see. The B book by Dr. Seuss (not to be sacreligious, but I've never been a big fan of the doc. I do love this book though). And one little critter book that even Jeff got excited about, called "Just go to Bed." A book by Oscar the Grouch titled "How to be a Grouch." And, a beautiful Stephen Cosgrove book. And I had a few outfits.
What I originally got in there for was a present, still wrapped in beautiful tissue paper, I knew I had tucked away. I had been invited to a baby shower for someone in the ward and bought the present and had it all pretty and ready to go. I don't remember if my grandpa was just going into the resthome (he'd been sick and in the hospital and they would only release him to somewhere he could have constant care) or if he was just coming home from the rest home. Either way, we weren't sure how long he would live. My aunt lives in Elko and she needed to come up to Salt Lake and the only way (or best way) she could get here was if my mom drove down and picked her up. I went with my mom and missed the baby shower.
Perhaps it sounds lame, but for whatever reason (probably grandpa and family things), I never did get the present to whoever was having the baby shower. I don't remember her now but I do remember this weekend. So, eventually, I tucked away the present thinking I would give it to myself someday. I didn't remember what was in the present either, but I did know it was for a girl.
Last night I opened the present. I had a little tiny pair of pink mittens with white hearts on them, some striped socks, and the outfit is a soft, fleecy, pink outfit size 18 months. It's SO cute and I think will be about the right size at the right time. Even Jeff thought the mittens were cute.

So, the times they are a changing... is that what people say. This morning I was trying to talk myself into a good attitude as I got to work. I paused for a moment and had to admit I'm doing surprisingly well with all the stress and change in my life right now. Maybe I should give myself some credit.

Here we go....

We officially started moving this weekend. Once I get started, I just want it to be done. Our house is a mess, I'm exhausted, and there is still SO much to do. Both my mom and Jeff's mom asked if I'm okay and are quite concerned about this change for me. It's nice of them to be aware that this isn't easy for me, but, for the record, yes, I'm okay. It's going to be different, but I've come to terms with things (I hope) and am looking forward.

Did I mention there's yet another dog living where we're going? Jeff's dad bought a Shitzu with his tax return money. He plans to use him for breeding and make some money that way. It is the cutest little teddy bear/Ewok faced thing I've ever seen. He's tiny and fluffy and mostly black, so you can't even see his face from a distance. We've had our dog over there a bit lately and although she's the biggest, she definitely doesn't rule the nest. Luckily, she gets along with the new one pretty well. The chihuahuas on the other hand, just aren't liked by anyone from my house and the feeling seems to be mutual.

Saturday we went to a Valentine's dinner with Jeff's dad's church. It was at a restaurant but we had our own room reserved. They played games and served the food buffet style. It was fun and today I'm craving the shredded beef they had for the tacos. I think I'm needing protein today anyway. It's one of those days I just can't seem to eat enough.

A couple weeks ago, at about 5 in the morning, Jeff came in and said "here, hold this" and put something soft and fuzzy in my hand, which happened to be close to my face. Being asleep, my thoughts were not quite coherent. I thought, our dog is not that small, she's not having puppies- I am, did he find a cat? Once I woke up, I realized it was a small Valentine bear. It is so cute (cuter than the Shitzu!). It's white with a red nose, red hearts on it's paws and a bow with dangling hearts that say Be Mine around it's neck. I bought Jeff a card and tried to say something I just really want him to get about how I feel about him and some candy.

Last Thursday, I went to the doctor. I had to do a glucose test for gestational diabetes. It wasn't as bad as I had worried it could be. I went in fasting and had to drink an orange, carbonated sugar drink. The first taste was okay but the after taste was blek. I had 5 minutes to drink it all and it looked small enough I thought that was plenty of time. Jeff kept watch on his clock and the time flew by. I finished it right on time. I got pretty shakey, light headed and giggly. Then the baby started bouncing all over my tummy. But I survived. And the results are in and the sugar and the iron all look normal. Yay! I was a bit concerned about the diabetic stuff. But I'm trying to take care of myself :)

Today is surprisingly calm for a Monday. It's kind of nice, except I can barely stay awake. If I was busy (and often annoyed on Monday), at least it keeps me going :) I still have plenty to do, so I better get to it.

Your opinion doesn't smell good

A few people in the last while have asked me something about my baby- what we're naming her, what colors we're using etc. Fun stuff to talk about right? Well, these few people, and perhaps I'm just too sensitive, after I tell them the answer, look at me like I'm completely stupid. Is that not incredibly rude?!?!
What's funny is, it's probably the first time that I don't feel stupid at all for my opinion and feel completely sure that the other person is the one with the "wrong opinion." Think whatever you want, but to express it or let it be known, especially when you are talking about something so special as the other person's baby, really does make you the jerk with no manners and what does your opinion matter anyway!?
It would be nice if I could get strong enough in myself to fend off such stupid people.

Wishes and Fishes

I was quite uplifted and inspired by BennyK's blog about posthumous classes. What a great way to get out of this world and think about what really matters and what we really want to be doing! I also found Heather's recent blog about the recession and her kids to be quite thought provoking (although I didn't know what to say and didn't comment).

Yesterday at work, a few people were talking about helping their teenagers get cars. One girl was saying that she'd like to help them get a new, reliable car, something inexpensive, that could help build their credit, teach them responsibility, and be dependable when they go off to college. Another guy was saying that he pays his daughter's insurance as long as she is getting good grades etc. He's also helping with his son's college and getting ready to send him on a mission.

Another girl at work has had her husband working in Alaska or Canada? on and off for the past few months. They were married last March. I think I'd go crazy having my husband gone like that! But, he has a really good job that he worked hard through school to get and, I heard her tell someone, he's making as much money doing this project as she'll make this whole year, so that kind of makes it worth it.

I know I'm a judgemental person. I don't mean to be in a negative way. I just find things interesting and different things like this hit me in different ways, which helps me to know what I think and feel. That's usually my point when I talk about people- it's really supposed to be about me, not them.

I just felt like these few overheard conversations/statements made me realize how little I want money to be a part of my motivation. I think that's easy to say when you have enough, but when you don't, it's really hard to live with. Besides, some things are worth working for.

I've been reading a book from Mom about wishing. So far, it's really about being clear about what you want and believing that you can have it. We seem to get so bogged down in "reality" and "THE recession" and day to day survival, that it's hard to remember that not only do we WANT to study surfing, trapeze, cooking, and quantum physics, but we think we can't and that life HAS to be hard and punitive or something.

The point I'm really trying to make with all these random thoughts is that it's been a rough couple of weeks. I tend to value in myself my ability to rise up when the going gets tough and make decisions and, in some way, take charge of things. I almost feel my thoughts taking shape in that way.

I believe that kids, teenagers don't NEED their own cars.
I believe that a husband at home is more important than making lots of money (I also believe that supporting each other in career goals etc is important so it's subjective to the situation).
I believe that learning and study and reaching our potential is what life should really be about.

What classes do I want to look forward to in the afterlife? What do I want to learn and be and do without waiting for the afterlife, or even the after-now?
What do I wish for?

It's coming. It's hard to hear in the noise, but I'm getting somewhere...

Decisions and Fears

Lately I feel like I have really strong reactions, in my head, to things. Knowing that a lot of it is probably "just hormones" (I really hate that phrase), I try to keep it inside. Then I spend a lot of time feeling sorry for myself for not sticking up for me and saying what I think etc. I also feel like I complain more than ever now. So, I'm hesitant to start talking about what I was going to blog about.

On the other hand, in an effort to clear the cobwebs and get my head on straight and really just to discuss what's going on in my life, I thought I'd just start typing. So, here's my big announcement (perhaps as much to myself, having been in denial and anger and now perhaps getting ready for acceptance- did I get the steps right?)... at the end of February, Jeff and I will be moving into his Dad's house. We actually were trying to do it sooner, but the fees and consequences of breaking our lease were more than the cost and consequences of finishing it out.

So, who lives at Jeff's dad's house? His dad and step mom and 13 year old half brother. And the step mom's mom and two 17 year old brothers. Three dogs (if chihuahuas really count as dogs) and two cats. And, until recently, some turtles and snakes and who knows what else? They have a good sized room in the basement for us that is a bit away from everyone so hopefully we will have some privacy.

I don't want to sound ungrateful because I'm certainly glad they're willing to help us out, but I am scared to death of this move. The first time or two we talked seriously about it, I just cried. Perhaps it sounds worldly but the thought of really living with someone else and their rules and ways of doing things and packing all my stuff away in storage, made me feel like I would just disappear. I told Jeff, how can I be the wife and mother when I don't even get to decide what's for dinner?

I will note here that a time or two, I've felt a very reassuring feeling of "don't be so afraid; this is how you'll get to be home with your baby." I've held onto that like a life line, but some days, even that doesn't feel like a reality. I told Jeff that I will not work and leave my baby just so I can live in the basement of someone else's house. I hope he gets that.

I'm also afraid that Jeff will go and forget that he's the dad and the husband and he'll feel like one of the 17 year old boys and just want to play games with them all the time. I told him he can't forget me. I've heard that president Kimball said it's not good for a couple to live with their parents; that they need to be independent as much as possible. I worry we won't be grown up married people, but more like roommates and children.

My parents have also offered us a room at their house. I love my old bedroom, but it is small and more in the main part of the house. Jeff is probably right in thinking that we couldn't fit and would have no privacy. I would worry all the time that he would be feeling like I'm afraid I'm going to feel. But I would be much more comfortable living with my mom and Khrys than a bunch of stinky boys. Especially once my baby gets here.

Another concern is that just after the baby comes, everyone, including his step mom, will be out of school for the summer. I will never have any time to myself. How am I supposed to learn to be a mom when I'm constantly being bombarded by people and barely have a spot to call my own?
I worry about things before that as simple as when I'll get to take a shower and go the bathroom. I don't know if I remember how to live around people like that and I've never had to do it with people I don't know really well.

What really bothers me is that I keep blaming myself. Did I make a wrong choice somewhere? Am I not doing good enough- with our finances, with working, with... I don't know, whatever- to keep us out of this mess? And I can't help fearing that if Jeff really wanted to be a grown up and married and have a baby, he wouldn't be so willing to do this. Like I feel like he's retreating and I'm just going along stupidly, thinking he wants me there.

Poor Jeffrey

Jeff went to the dentist yesterday. He's been having teeth pain for a while and since all my insurance changed with the new year, we figured we'd wait for that to kick in. Then we thought we'd wait until we got the cards for the dental stuff (still waiting). Then we thought we better just call them and get him in! They took an x-ray and told him exactly what he already felt was happening. He ended up having to have two teeth pulled!

On the bottom, he had a wisdom tooth that was tipped. It was pushing on the other teeth, making his jaw and whole head hurt. It was also starting to get a bit infected underneath it. Because it was tipping, it was also rubbing against a top tooth. The top tooth was half way gone! The part that was left had quite a cavity. When they pulled the top tooth, it broke a bit of his bone and they had to pull that out.

The dentist said he could recommend an oral surgeon and they could do root canals on both teeth to try to save them, but they usually didn't do that for a wisdom tooth. I guess they would do that so the top tooth wouldn't have a hole to rub into and cause some kind of the same problem on the bottom as he had on the top. My thought, and Jeff's too, was that there wasn't enough of the top tooth worth saving. Then what would they have to do!? And I've never heard anything good about root canals. Because they were in the back and wouldn't affect his smile :) and also because he didn't want to wait any more time and deal with pain, Jeff opted to have them both pulled.

I was there through the whole thing. Am I getting good mothering experience or what!? It's horrible to watch someone you love go through pain and discomfort and fear. I rubbed his ankles like my mommy always did for me when I went to the dentist. It was all over fairly quickly. Once again, I think the shots were the worst part for him.

When I went to bed last night, he said that all the pressure and pain in his jaw that he'd felt that morning was gone. Today he's sore, but at least it's recovering soreness and he should be better in a day or two.

Control Yourself

I had the thought this morning on the way to work, "that would probably be for the best." What was I thinking about? How to do my hair! Does that even make any sense? Does anyone else sense the sadness in that statement? I was thinking about hair and was trying to settle on what would be the most practical and make the most sense. Not having fun. Not expressing myself. Not looking pretty. Just practical.

I was a bit stressed this morning. I'm leaving work a bit early and had set my alarm earlier than usual so I could try to get here a bit early and not use up so much personal time. Luckily (?) for me, when the alarm went off, I had to go the bathroom bad enough, it wasn't hard to get up. I had slept well and thought I was off to a good start. But...
The poor dog. She's scared of going outside and since I got pregnant, I generally just stand at the bottom of the stairs and let her go (or hope Jeff is up and will take her). It's taken some coaxing since her accident to get her to do this, but in the quiet morning she's been doing okay... until lately. This morning, she would not go. I even put on slippers and a jacket knowing it's been hard and planning on walking out with her (and no, I didn't use the leash because I was afraid I was too weak and she'd just pull me over. It was a genuine concern). We got about half way up more than a time or two before she bolted back down and into the apartment. I lost all patience with her. I know, and knew in the moment even, that it was other things bothering me, but I just didn't have the time or strength or patience to deal with her. She had been asking to go out so I knew she needed to and I finally pretty much dragged her up the stairs and convinced her she was safe if she stayed real close to the building on the grass with me standing there.
And, poor Jeff. He has been struggling with a tooth ache and it's getting bad enough it makes his whole head hurt. He is back on his "graveyard shift" schedule and didn't go to bed until 5 this morning. He couldn't sleep because his head and teeth hurt and his legs were twitching. So, what did I spend my extra half hour or so doing this morning? Rubbing his legs and dealing with the dog.
I was barely making it out of the house at my normal time when I remembered I still had to take some rent stuff up to the office. Poor me! I feel like I have to do everything. And this extra two minutes felt like it would make me even later!
And that was my frustration this morning. I just keep feeling like I'm doing everything. I know I shouldn't express all this crap here. And it really isn't personal toward anyone. Work has been crappy lately- I'm SO tired of some of the people/issues I deal with and the demands that are made on me. I'm frustrated with myself and my lack of assertiveness and ability to stick up for myself. I get sad when Jeff is up all night and things are not going productively for him. I get annoyed at the sweet dog who is sometimes so needy and demanding when I'm feeling needy and demanding. My legs have been cramping incredibly bad and often and all anyone, including the doctor, can tell me is it's normal and try eating bananas and getting more calcium. Nothing's working that way and the dog doesn't make a good masseuse. Jeff does, when he feels like it or isn't distracted etc.
Okay, enough complaining. And onto the real point...

After dropping the rent stuff at the office, I got in the car. I recently found a tape I have of only two songs that lately are my all time favorites (I say that about all songs I like a lot :) I think they call these tapes "singles" and Jeff didn't even know what that was or why they would make a tape with only two songs. And yes, I still don't have a CD player in my car and I actually don't care). The one song just makes me happy. As I pulled out of the parking lot I thought, "maybe I should just quit caring." This thought was followed by the question "why do you care so much?"
Mostly I was thinking about work. If I didn't get here early but got here at my regular time, so what? Why was I stressing so much about it? Why was I making that more important than anything else I had to do today? It didn't even make any sense. And if I just let go of it, a lot of the tension and "freak out"-ness I was feeling could just go away.
I'm not going to tell you what song I was listening to because I need it to be mine, not out there for judgement. That's not to say you will judge me, but more like I judge myself, which is the point of this post.
It doesn't matter what I do with my hair. It doesn't matter that this song makes me happy. It doesn't matter if I'm early or on time for work. Why do I make all these things into something practical? What if I just stopped and enjoyed... myself? the music? the dog and husband?

I feel like I don't even know how. I'm so trying to be in control and in charge of all these things with the ever present thought of "doing the right thing." And, as with this morning, that doesn't even make sense! The right thing with my hair? The right thing getting to work early? None of it matters!
What would happen if I let go of a bit of control? I don't think I'm a control freak- like I don't want to boss people around and I don't insist on having things my way- but in my own way I am. I've read about eating disorders and girls who get them are just trying to have some semblance of control (perhaps ownership?) in their own lives. That's what it is for me. Some sort of dependability, sanity, things being safe. I'm also gravely afraid that I'll mess everything up and ruin everything and get in trouble. So, I try always to do the right thing. I think I've loosened up when I say the "right" thing has at least softened to the most "practical." But still, be in control. Follow the rules, the schedule, the plan... and when that doesn't work? Kick the dog, be mad at the husband, berate myself.

What if I just want to be happy?

Give me the faith...

Today I read an article (how many blogs do I start this way?) saying that during recessions, people have fewer babies. Because of our current economy, many people will put off having a baby, whether they have any yet or not.
It was a depressing read and scared me to death to be having a baby right now. How are we going to afford it? It got me thinking ahead to high school fees and dates and clothes and college, not to mention just the here and now need for diapers and feeding one more person. I actually felt stupid for making this choice so irresponsibly.

This article also scared and depressed me because it says a whole lot about the world we live in. I believe that the greatest thing God gives and asks of us is family. Our ability to love another person and share a life and then to grow a family and have children from that union? That's the greatest thing on earth. It's what we are here for. Simply put, He told Adam and Eve to multiply and replenish the earth. Eve even said that had they not left the Garden of Eden (think of how simple and good their life was there) they would never have known the joy of family.
So, when things get hard, what's our first reaction? To turn to God and do what He's asked and be humbled? Oh no. Our first inclination is to struggle on our own and stop doing the things He's asked us to. That is darn scary!

Not that I'm judging. As I said, I was plenty scared reading this article myself and wondered if we'll ever have more than one baby and what I'll do with her once she's here. And that's my question. How do we go forward with faith? Sometimes I've looked at groups of people or even an individual here or there that I've known and thought "wow, you really need to learn to think for yourself and use a bit of common sense." So, in these hard economic times, what is using common sense and what is going on faith?
Right now, I can't imagine not returning to work simply for the fact that I'm scared of living without health insurance when I have a baby. What if something happens to her? I need to be able to take care of her. Not to mention I have to eat well enough to breast feed, hoping that all goes well, and that will only last so long before I have to buy food for her. Oh, and diapers and... What are we going to do?
And yet, I can't imagine leaving my baby to go to work, no matter how desparate a need we have. Plus, I know it's the right thing to do. Do I just take that leap? I believe God helps us and provides for us; it's just that nagging question of "but how much does he ask of us first?"

I've always heard stories of people paying their tithing even when it was the only money they had and they needed food and then they are provided for. I've always wanted to have that kind of faith, but when it comes my turn to show it, am I really that strong!?
A while back I started writing a blog but I don't think I ever finished/posted it. I'd read some articles in the Ensign about people doing the right things even when it was hard. Like paying tithing and planning on going hungry. Or spending their life savings and risking losing a job to take a once in a life time trip to a temple in a neighboring country. I love those stories and have always wanted to have that faith. As I read I realized I might not even recognize my opportunity to show that kind of faith in my own life. I realized that all our financial struggles and the decisions we're making because of it are my test. I've always believed so much in being home with my babies. It's like because I've had that belief, it makes sense that it won't be an easy thing for me to do because I have to prove that I really do mean it. So, here I am. Do I have the faith? Do I REALLY know it's right to the point that I'm willing to leap?

New Year's Resolution

Some of the women at work are going to do an office "Biggest Loser." I've never watched that show, but I think the idea is everyone competes to see who loses the most pounds (or perhaps they measure percentage of their pounds to be more equal). It's supposed to be motivating because everyone weighs in in front of each other and I think they will all buy into the competition and whoever wins gets to keep all the money. Plus, they'll all be watching each other and helping each other stay on track.
Good luck to them all. Sincerely.

But, I do want to take this time to bear my testimony... :)
A few years back, I started working out with my brother. We were lifting heavy weights because he was there to help me when I couldn't quite make it. Sometimes I thought he pushed too hard, but the amazing thing was, something I couldn't lift today, I could lift the next time we did that exercise. Some people find weight lifting to not be very feminine, but I loved it. It gets deep into your muscles like no other exercise and feels amazing. And, I found it to be the fastest and best way to actually change the way I looked and felt. Besides, I've read and heard in lots of places that unless women use steroids, we're just not made to bulk up like men and professionals do. I don't know that I was the best workout buddy for my bro because I couldn't "spot" him on as heavy of stuff as he'd like to lift, but I think it did give him some motivation to show up and, because I love cardio and he hated it, we didn't skimp on that.
When we first started working out, I lost 10 pounds almost immediately. This was encouraging because I'd been going to the gym for a while and felt good and healthy, but never really lost much. However, my pants still fit the same and even though I felt better, I didn't think I looked much different. Give it another couple months (or less!) and suddenly, my pants were falling off and people at the gym even commented to him that I was looking good. During this period of time, I didn't lose any pounds.
Being pregnant, I've gained maybe 5 pounds so far. But, my pants quit fitting a long time ago. I walk funny and my stomach sticks out.
So, I'm a big believer that while you should probably keep an eye on the number on the scale, it's really how you look and feel that matters. And, you should be sensible, not punitive with yourself.

Which brings up my next point. Yesterday I heard one of the women say how hungry she was because the little cup of yogurt she'd had for breakfast just wasn't enough. Okay, I do believe in portion control and, just to exaggerate, if you go from eating 3 greasy Micky D sandwiches for breakfast to a cup of yogurt, it's probably going to hurt a bit. But let's face it, most of us aren't making that big of changes and even if we were, doing so that drastically up front is sure to fail us. We'd never be able to stick with it. Personally, I believe the woman probably needed a bit more than yogurt to get her through the morning and she could probably eat a bit more and still be sensible about it.
The other women around her though chimed in with what I guess was support. They agreed with how hard it is to start a diet and encouraged her that her pain let her know it was working.

Later yesterday, I happened upon an article comparing the top 10 diets in America. It focused almost entirely on weight loss and not long term health. While it was supposedly objective by listing pros and cons of everything from Weight Watchers and Jenny Craig to Atkins and the Mediteranean diet, I really felt like it did little to discuss what is really healthy, what our bodies need, and that there is more to health than the number on the scale.
My favorite example, in a love to hate it way, was the Atkins diet. It mentioned that most people can't sustain a diet that high in protein for long because their bodies can't continually process it all and that long term it causes all kinds of scary heart and other problems but not without also pointing out that it seems to be the most effective in dropping pounds and dropping them fast.

Being pregnant, this is probably the first year since I was 12 that I haven't, at least on some level, had a goal myself to lose weight, work out more, etc as a New Year Resolution. It seems to be making me so clear headed and objective :) I like to think I was pretty sensible before as I've struggled with this issue for so long and learned a lot and also come to love and appreciate my body for what it is. It's not just this year, although everything is annoying me this week, that I really feel annoyed and angry at the focus that is out there to look and be and act a certain way. When it comes to losing weight, the smaller and lighter we are, the better, no matter how we look or feel. We don't eat and enjoy our food. We don't appreciate our bodies as they are. Even if we do, we feel obligated to talk as if we don't, especially when we're around other girls. We constantly compare ourselves.

There's a girl at work in the other department who recently returned from having gastric bypass surgery. She was a large girl and she has a lot of personality. She is dropping weight quickly, as one is supposed to do after that surgery. The woman who sits by me comments everytime the girl walks by about how good she looks and how good it is that she did that and it's so neat. I don't argue and it's not my place to judge. But, I've known a few people to have that surgery. Whether it's worked for them or not, I just think it's really kind of sad that someone would put themself through all that. It seems cruel. The consensus seems to be that it's good this girl did this because now her fun, cute personality can be appreciated.

I think we should learn to thank God for our food. We should celebrate the changing seasons and enjoy what he gives us "in the season thereof." We should trust Him to nourish and care for us. We should be glad for our physical selves, even with our so called flaws, because we haven't always been this way and it's something we wanted and needed. It was a gift. How do you think God feels when we criticize every bite we put in our mouths, every role or bump we see in our bodies? Have you ever given a gift and had it not only not appreciated, but criticized?
It's weird for me to see me pregnant. I'm extremely uncomfortable almost all the time. I can't hold in my stomach at all and boobs that were too big already now look like fat girl boobs. My ankles look funny when I take off my socks because the part above my sock line is about a half inch wider than the part below. But, for the first time in my life, I love my stomach. Not only does it show my baby, but now it's just there as a part of me with no judgement to be made, no change needing to be made. It's just perfect. When I struggle to stand up or move, I know there is a baby in there and I'm so thankful for that, I can't complain about my own discomfort. My body is fulfilling it's greatest purpose and it makes me realize that it has always served me well.