Authentically Lived

‘And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’ Anais Nin

 Have you ever read a quote that stopped you in your tracks? That when you read it, you felt the full meaning of it? The meaning of it spoke to your core? I know a quote is good for me because when it's spoken it loses its meaning. Does that make sense? By giving the feeling words, it lessens its quality, because it can only be felt. This Anais Nin quote was one of those for me. Isn't it true that in our life we have seasons of growth and seasons of stability? Both are so important. When things are good, we're going through life content, happy and blooming. As life would have it, disaster strikes, something happens, and the world we know is no longer. Or maybe, it's nothing significant, but you've felt a restlessness in your "soul." All of these things are reasons to take a pause. Listen to what life/the universe/God/yourself is trying to tell you. If you take the opportunity to slow down and lean into it, you might find that this is a season of growth, a chance to blossom in ways that you didn't know was possible. 

"Whever you are, be there. This moment matters." 

This quote or the idea of it has been following me around for weeks. I've heard it in the past, but at the time, it was just a "nice quote" or "words" to me. However, lately this quote has taken on it's full meaning, and because I keep hearing it, I've become sensitive to it. When it comes up, I pause and reflect on what's happening at that moment, attempting to take away a Truth (big T) from whatever is going on around me.

 A few weeks after this quote about being in the moment took a hold of me, I decided to buy a record player. I had been wanting one and finally decided to just do it. I bought some records of my favorite artists to go along with it and brought it home. Later that week, babe and I decided to break it out and listen to some music. One of us commented that on Side A of one of the records, it only had a couple of songs that we liked. Knowing that it isn't an easy task to skip to the next song on a record, I said "we'll just listen to the whole thing. Maybe we'll find our new favorite song from one that we haven't heard yet." Right then, I realized the beauty of a record player. We have every song we could ever want on our cellphones. If we don't like the next song that comes up on our music app, we just hit the "skip" button and move on to the next song. I feel like we try to do that with our lives. If we don't like this uncomfortable task or feeling that's facing us, we just hit the skip button on life. We either ignore what's happening and pretend it's not reality, run from it, or self-medicate so that we can't feel it. By doing that, what are we missing out on? What new skill or blessing is just waiting to blossom within you if you would face the uncomfortable head on and lean into it? Big T moment.

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Nashville.  Nashville is one of my favorite places. I lived there for almost 6 years and every time I go back, I feel at home.  There was a moment on Saturday afternoon, we were listening to a band at one of the bars on Broadway.  This band was good.  The singer could absolutely sing, but he also felt every single word.  He didn't just get up there and sing the song, but he made you feel the emotions behind what he was singing.  A moment of clarity hit me mid song. I bet if I heard this band on my phone, after they had taken the song to the studio to take out any of the notes that might be "just a tad too sharp," all that emotion that I was currently feeling would be gone.  You see, I love music, all music, but my absolute favorite thing to do is to listen to live music.  Give it to me in person where I can hear the mistakes.  To me, the mistakes are what make it beautiful.  The person that can't hit that note just right but sings it anyway with all the feeling in their being...that's the person I want to hear.  Because we live in a world of filters and botox and tummy tucks and autotune, the imperfect is what is beautiful to me. Authenticity is what I’m drawn to. The person that is struggling but chooses to heal and learn and grow through the struggle, is someone I look at with so much respect.  Bit T moment.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: Let's not rush life.  Let's slow down and live it. Let's live it for what it is, good and bad, at that moment. Let’s remember that sometimes the struggle is the catalyst for exactly what we need to blossom.  If we consciously choose to lean in to the uncomfortable, we might just end up with the biggest blessing we never imagined. 

“Life is beautiful because it’s hard.”

Jamie

Bad at Therapy

 I'm bad at therapy.

  Actually, I think I was made for therapy.  Everything about me screams "that girl would rock a therapy session."  I'm your typical "overthinker."  I take everything I see or hear or feel and I overthink the shit out of it (did I forget to tell you there would be cussing now?)...to the point that I can single handedly work myself into a downright tizzy within minutes (sorry babe!)  However, instead of being this quiet, in-her-head-mysterious chick, I want, no need, to talk about everything.  Oh yes!  Not only will I overthink every single thing, but I need you to overthink it too.  I need you to talk it out with me.  I'm a firm believer that if the whole world could just "talk things out" we would all get to a better place. Not at first. At first there would be bad ideas, arguments and maybe even some name calling.  But....if we could push through that, and learn to listen to each other, oh the places we could go.  Pair this personality type with a little trauma and you should have the star student in a therapist's office. 

I've wanted to try out the therapy thing for a long time, but for one reason or another it was always put on the back burner.  Life has been hard lately.  I know everyone's "hard" is different, but mine was starting to catch up with me.  I had gotten to the point that all I wanted to do was cry, and I didn't really truly know why. Yes, things around me were happening, hard things, feelings I didn't want to feel, but all things, if happening at separate moments, I could handle. The problem was that I felt them all piling up at once.  I simply couldn't get in the right head space to tackle it.  Every day felt like waves washing over me.  I would finally get my head above water and another one would take me out.  It was at this point that I knew there was something deeper going on. So, I sent a text and made a call and just like that, my first therapy session was booked!

As the days grew closer, I was nervous but mostly excited.  I had spiraled so hard mentally that I needed a professional "unspiraler" and I had finally found one.  Someone to help me talk this out.  I sat down for my first session, ready to roll!  "So, tell me a little about yourself?"  At this point, I'm pretty sure I opened my mouth, word vomited everywhere and then blacked out. Every single thing that has been couped up in this brain for the past 40'ish years all came out in the most unorganized and random way possible. I interrupted my own sentences to start a different one. I jumped from one topic to another and then back to the first. Bless her heart, this therapist wrote and asked questions and did her very best to keep up. 

Flashbacks to Billy Madison keep replaying in my head

    "What you just said is one of the most insanely, idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent, response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought.  Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."

After it was all over, I overthought my entire drive home.  Therapy hangover is a real thing y'all!  However, getting all of it out and off my chest to someone that I believe, in time, can help me organize it to the point of understanding it...understanding myself, was so much more helpful than I could ever imagine.  

This is the point where I tell you that if you're struggling, if you've got the waves washing over you, hell, if you just need someone to talk things out with, then send the text and make the call. Start it now and we can share stories on how horrible and great it is at the same time!

Quotes from the week:

"I looked for joy. I looked for peace." Rachel Hollis

"You will get there. Until then. Be Here. This Moment Matters"  Unknown

New Blog, Who Dis?

10 years, 1 decade, and about 3 lifetimes.  That's how long it's been since I've written about my life.  I started this blog back when it was the hot new thing!  There was no snapchat. There was no tik tok.  There was Facebook and blogs. Wanted to learn what was going on in someone's life? If they had a blog, you were set!  If you were looking for a new recipe? Sure! Just read this 3-page narrative of why it's important first.  I started mine because I was 4 hours from home and all the people I knew (except my then husband,) and we had just found out I was pregnant.  The easiest way for me to keep everyone updated was to write it all out once and publish it for all to read.  Looking back now, the value of it is so much deeper. I've spent the past several days rereading and reliving it all.  From where I'm at now, it feels almost like reading someone else's story, but having the memory of it in your own head.  It's the strangest, out-of-body feeling, feeling.  

My goodness was my daughter adorable!  Rereading those stories were my favorite.  10 years later, at almost 16(!), she has become the coolest, most introspective young person I've ever known.  Don't get me wrong, we've had our days!  Raising a teenager is not for the faint of heart, but it's the greatest thing I'll ever do. 

So what does this look like going forward?  I'm not sure.  As a middle-aged divorcee, single mom, who is in a committed relationship, it could go literally anywhere. Ha!  

Why am I bringing it back?  Writing has always been something I've done to help me organize my thoughts.  I used to think my personality was "Type A Scatterbrain," now I realize it's probably a little undiagnosed adhd.  Either way, if I write it down, it seems less "spirally."  Also, if I'm being transparent, I'm hoping someone will read it and say "You too!? I thought I was the only that felt like that!" and then maybe they comment and then maybe we both feel a little less crazy. 

Blogspot's Back, Alright!

                

  Time to dust off the 'ol blog.

If you didn't sing the title to the tune of the Backstreet Boys, this blog may not be for you...

the First of Many Firsts

I dropped my baby off at college today and left.  No, I realize it wasn't actual college but it sure felt like it.  It might as well have been college. Today is the first day of her days as a big girl.  She is no longer my little baby who only goes to "school" for a few hours.  No, now she's gone all day. That seems like such a simple sentence, but it's taking a while for it to really sink in.  This morning, I helped her get ready and took her to her first day of kindergarten and left.  I would have stayed had they let me.  Held her hand as we walked right passed all the BIG kids and found some other tiny people that looked lost. We would have found some other little girls that had that same anxious look in her eyes and asked her to play with us.  Instead, all I could do was give her a hug, tell her I loved her, and walk away fighting the tears I refused to let fall until I got to the car.   All morning I've been running through everything in my head; have we given her enough love that she doesn't need the validation of others? Have we given her enough independence that she feels confident enough to stand on her own two feet? Have we taught her how to reason through new problems so that she can make the right choices?  Have we taught her compassion so that she will be able to notice the kids that need a little extra sunshine in their day....and that others will be kind enough to give it back to her? Will she make friends? Will other kids like her?

Peer pressure.  You might think I'm silly for worrying about peer pressure at 5, but it starts somewhere. That first day away from mommy and daddy all day...having to make decisions completely on her own.  It happens over time, very slowly.   Sure, right now it might just be "hey, you shouldn't play with her because she has cooties" but then it's "hey, I don't like her.  We should take her book away!" Next thing you know, "here, try this!"  I realize that she's not gone for good. I understand that today, when I get off work I will go home and she'll be there.  We will talk about her day. She will tell me all the fun new things she did and about all the new kids she played with. We will continue to do this each day.  Hopefully, most days will be good.  She will have only good stories to tell me.  Inevitably, there will be days that aren't as good.  She'll come home and tell me about it and we will talk through it: What happened, how she acted, how she felt and what might be done different or the same next time.  It gives me comfort to know that while she might be more independent after today, she is never ever alone, and the one thing that we both know how to do well is talk :)

Lessons on hospital living

It's been a very long, crazy week and when I have long crazy weeks, I take to writing.   Normally, it's in a journal where I can pour out my thoughts and feelings. With this experience though, I feel as if I've taken away some life lessons.  And these life lessons are the ones I can share. Hopefully, you don't already know them and never will, but if you find yourself in a situation where you're forced to live out of a hospital, maybe these will help.

When an emergency happens, whatever has happened or going on in your life stops.  All your energy and time is focused on taking care of that emergency. When you come back to what your life was before, you will have a fresh pair of eyes, roll with it...

Appreciate the little victories.  It's the little ones that allow you to take steps to the big ones!  Any progress is good progress. Celebrate peeing without the help of a catheter! Eating a whole bowl of oatmeal is way better than eating half of a bowl, regardless of the size.

If you know you are going to be staying more than a day, find your spot in the waiting room and claim that bad boy!!   You don't have to be rude about it.  Just leave enough stuff there that says "hey, I know I'm not here at the moment so it's completely acceptable for you to sit in those chairs, but when I get kicked out of my patient's room, y'all are gonna have to move."

Picking the right sleeping spot is paramount!  If you have to choose between a semi-soft chair and a concrete venting ledge, I recommend the ledge. That is, of course, if it's short enough that if you get the urge to jump off it (because you just might,) you don't end up on floor B (otherwise known as the ER). You can bring pillows or blankets from the hospital room to help with the padding and you'll be able to stretch your legs, and you MUST stretch your legs. Bad things happen to your knees and joints when you can't stretch your legs.

If you notice another tiny pseudo home across the waiting room that's been there as long as you have, buy the owner some coffee or something to eat.   It might just be a mother who's teenage daughter is fighting for her life in a coma. She will tell you that she doesn't need anything, but buy it for her anyway.

Look for and appreciate any silver lining you can find. The 6th floor waiting room just might have a wall of windows allowing you to see some of the most breathtaking sunsets.

"Hospital teeth" are a thing. Really.  Even if you can find a bathroom on the floor that's decent enough to brush your teeth, it's just not the same. I don't know if it's the air, the hospital food or what, but just know it'll happen, so bring mints.  The mints probably won't help but bring them anyway.

Pack extra underwear.  And that's all I have to say about that.

A hat and/or bandana can do wonders covering up hair that hasn't been washed in days.  On another note, it's a great start to going "no-poo" if you've been wanting to try that sort of thing (see?..silver lining stuff.)

You CAN get by on concealer and cheap mascara.

Bring concealer.   I know, you can't worry about makeup and all that junk in the hospital, but chica, when you don't sleep longer than two hours at a time, you'll thank me.

It's imperative that you accept help when it is offered.   For some of us, that's really really hard to do, but no one can do it all.

I've heard it over and over, but never understood it until now: the nurses you have make all the difference in the world!  It's unbelievable how true this statement is.

Peace out little corner of mine!  Please be kind to the next occupant...



...on to rehab...

DIY Deodorant

I have not used deodorant for over a year.  Say that again!?!  Maybe I should clarify that statement.  I have not used "deodorant" for over a year.  See those quotation marks?  Those quotation marks make all the difference.  Those quotation marks differentiate between what you may call deodorant and what I call deodorant. If you know me at all, you know that I consider myself "semi-crunchy"  According to the online slang dictionary (totally reliable right?!) crunchy is:

hippie-esque; "all-natural". Refers to the crunch of granola, which (as goes the stereotype) hippies are likely to eat.

I would not consider myself full-on crunchy, mostly because there are some things I just can't give up (while I like being barefoot in the grass, my heels are an accessory I will not relinquish and I just kind of like the smell of my salon shampoo.  I must say that I tried the whole "no poo" thing, but thats for another day.)  Plus, living in this tiny little town, there are some things I can't find and are not easily accessible.  I seriously have to drive 40 minutes to get goat cheese, and that's not even the organic kind!

Back to deodorant.  There are so many reasons why it's a smart choice to ditch the "deodorant" (notice the quotations.)  Yes, even during these summer months.  Just do a quick Google search of "ingredients in deodorant" and you'll have plenty of reading material. That's not even going into the antiperspirant realm.  Don't even get me started!  

When I first started the research on this "hot" topic, I tried some of the natural brands and let me tell you, they just didn't get the job done.  So, in true crunchy  fashion, I decided to just make my own. I tried it once and the rest is history.  It worked so well and the benefits are amazing: super cheap, no nasty chemicals, and you can personalize your scent depending on the essential oils you use. 

I'm not sure who originally came up with the recipe, but I've seen it everywhere with a few tweaks here and there. 

What you need:
Baking soda
Corn Starch
Coconut Oil
Essential Oils (optional)

This is so simple that you really don't need the pictures, but why not?

 Equal parts of baking soda... (I used 1/4 cup)

...and cornstarch (1/4 cup)

Add in enough coconut oil to create the right spreadable consistency.  This will depend on a couple of things.  1.) the temperature of the oil, because coconut oil will melt in the heat and become a solid in cooler temperatures  2.) what kind of consistency you like.  I prefer mine a little more soft.

Next, add the essential oils if you are using them.   Because patchouli is my scent, I added some patchouli oil and a little bit of tea tree oil for it's antibacterial effect.  

That's it!  Put that mixutre in a container and you are good to go!

 Okay, so I'm guessing some of you may be asking how this goes from the container to your pits right?  Simple.  Scoop some onto your fingers and rub it in.  I know.  It was strange for me at first too, but sometimes you just gotta put on your big girl/boy panties and do it.  Trust me, it's worth it!

Who needs water anyway?

So I have a problem.  A problem keeping things alive.  More specifically plants.  I don't know what it is but I just cant keep them living.   No, I know exactly what it is.  I ignore them.  There I said it.  I ignore them and just let them go.  I like the idea of them.  They are pretty.  They smell good. It's the work that it takes to keep them that way that I can't handle.  Every year I start out all gung-ho. I buy the mulch, I buy the potting soil.  My mom comes over and plants new starts from the plants that are just "getting too big."   She's kind of got a green thumb.  She can just walk by a flower or plant and it immediately grows five new buds.   I promise myself every year that this year will be different.   This year, I'll stick with it. This year, I'll have the prettiest yard in the neighborhood.  And then, a week goes by and I realize I forgot to go out and pull those weeds.  Two weeks go by and my mom stops over to cut off the flowers that had bloomed and died and are still there sucking the life out of my new growing ones.  Three weeks go by and "oh crap! I forgot to water them and it hasn't rained yet!" I finally get around to tending to  my beautiful growing flowers, only to see that they've completely dried up.  The buds are withered and the soil has turned to dust.   But you know what's amazing??  Most of the time, if I water them really really good at that point, they'll come back.  Flowers are pretty resilient.   They want to  live and thrive.   Every time I see them bounce back I'm amazed.  How in the world did they survive what I just put them through??

Isn't that how our lives are sometimes?  We want a life full of happiness and joy , but we don't want to do anything about it.   Instead, we neglect it.  We ignore it and hope that  it will just grow on its own because that's easier.   When we finally take a look, we are dried up.... But, just like the flowers, we are resilient.   We want to live and survive. We want to be "beautiful."    Whatever that means to you, do it.  If it means digging into your bible more...do it.  If it means giving up something that you've been holding on to, then just like the dead flowers that were sucking the life out of the ones trying to grow, cut it off.    Whatever it takes to make you bloom, do it.  Yes, it's work. Yes it's hard, but believe me, you are worth it!!

This picture above was taken this morning (eek!)   Here's to hoping that in a few days, this will be the beautiful blue plant that I know it can be!

be still

A few months ago I got my second tattoo.  The words “be still” are now permanently inked on my right shoulder blade.  As I was telling the tattoo artist what I wanted, he verified that I didn’t want  “and know” to be part of the piece.  I told him that the two words were all that I needed.  Most people know this phrase as Psalm 46:10 that says “be still and know that I am God.”  This verse speaks to many and has gotten them through  times they feel they cannot go on, so I’m not discouraging it.  For me, though, the “be still” part is what I was after.   

The older I get, the more I am drawn to nature.  Over the past couple of years, I’ve also gotten into running.  The most perfect thing in the whole wide world to me is a nice long run on a quiet, tree lined trail; no one around but the birds and flowers.  Now granted, I run with music (still haven’t managed to give that up yet), but there is just nowhere in the world I would rather be than out in nature, experiencing it.   When the run is over and the ear buds come out, it’s just me and the trees…and there is something so beautiful about that: just standing there taking in the beauty that God created.

This is what the words “be still” mean to me.  In addition, this is the one time that I am forced to slow down.  If you know me at all, you know that I’m a ‘doer.’  I have to be busy. I enjoy being busy.  I do, but at times, it’s exhausting. Not necessarily physically exhausting, but more mentally exhausting.   I get so wrapped up in things and projects that my mind gets overwhelmed.  It’s very hard for me to just sit still when my head has a list 3 miles long of things that need to be done or finished.  Running is my way of getting away from that.  When I’m running, my mind turns to the bigger things in life.  I don’t know if it’s the extra oxygen being flooded to my head, but instead of laundry and dishes, it starts to wander to life and what’s really important. That clarity for the 45 minutes (or longer depending on the miles) is truly addicting. 

Little did I know that these two little words would continue to take shape and mold into something even greater.  Life is crazy.  Life is hard. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also extremely hard some days.  In the times when life isn’t easy, when it’s not all butterflies and roses, when it’s maybe easier to throw your hands in the air and give up, be still.    Be. Still.  Be still and rest in the fact that you may not know some things….and that is okay.  Rest in the beauty that good things take time.  Those trees that bring me so much peace and joy take years to grow.   You may only be able to see one step in front of you, step anyway.  Breath in, breath out…repeat.

 

“Wisdom comes once we learn to become still…In the silence of the heart, one learns the journey of the wise.”

Truth.

Have you ever had one of those conversations that after it's over, you think to yourself "That was all truth!  Surely, anyone and everyone could benefit from that in some way."  I had one of these earlier this past week.  I was telling someone the story of my tattoo and what it means to me.  I won't get into the whole story here, but I'll tell you it's in memory of my the baby I lost eight months ago.  It may seem strange to some of you that have never suffered a miscarriage to hear that I still struggle with this so many months later.  I know that before mine, I never realized how deep a scar it can carry.  I was talking with this person how it's weird that I'll go several days being okay and then something will happen; a song will come on the radio, somebody will say something, or really... any random thing could happen and I'll just burst into tears.  This person told me something that I had already known, but them saying it out loud simply validated it as a truth.  They told me to feel what I'm feeling, no matter how silly or ridiculous it might seem.  Isn't that so simple?  Simple, but completely brilliant.  It's okay to cry when a hip hop rap song comes on the radio, if that's what I'm feeling.  It's okay to mourn the loss of someone who passed several years ago, if that's what you're feeling.  It's okay to feel totally blah if that's where you're at.  Cry.  Do it. Feel it.  Just make sure, you get up the next day ready to face and feel whatever comes.  That's life.  It's hard, it's tough, it's beautiful.

Long Overdue: The Remodel

This is a post that is long overdue.  Going back over the past posts, I realized that I promised to show ya'll the redo of our house after we bought it.  To recap, we repainted pretty much everything in the front rooms and the kitchen.  (Sorry to say but I don't think I have any before and afters of the kitchen.)  Also, we tore up all the carpeting and laid down vinyl flooring.  With Jarrod working 70 hours a week at the time, I laid most of it myself.  I'm not saying this to play down his role by any means (if it weren't for his busting his butt at work, we wouldn't have been able to pay for the flooring.)  I am telling you this, so that when you see the floors, you will know that I. am. a. rockstar.  I'm not kidding of course.  But, it was super hard work and it makes me appreciate my pops even more for what he did and still does to make a living for his family.
Okay, I'll shut up and show you the pictures.

Wow, this is really bad quality.  I apologize.  You never know taking a picture with your phone, what kind of quality you're going to get.  Seriously, sometimes it looks like a professional took it and others you get, well, you get the above picture.  You get the idea though.  You see the color of the paint and the carpet right?

So, first things first.  Gotta tear that carpet up.  I thought this would be super easy.  Boy was I wrong.  I think my back was stuck in the bent over position for two days straight. First, the carpet had to come up. Then, we had to tear up the padding underneath and then (yeah, still not done) we had to hammer down all the nails that were sticking up from the floor.
 

Again, I apologize for the quality.  I must start using my actual camera. 

Once everything was up, it was time for momma to show her stuff.  Check out these floors!

Now why did this one turn out so good?!  I will never know

Of course Jesalyn had to get in on the action.  Is this not the cutest picture you have ever seen in your entire life?!  She looks like she knows what she's doing doesn't she?  

Before the floors we decided to repaint.  I wanted gray.  A lesson I learned through all this is that there really is no true gray color.  All gray has a little bit of another color in it.  If you read my blog before you know the other lesson I learned.  "If your best friend tells you that the paint chip you took home looks more blue than gray, you should believe her."   Yes,  I picked out what I thought was gray, bought like 4 gallons and started painting the walls.  Halfway through I realized that it did, indeed look blue.  I thought I could handle it and kept painting.  About 3/4 the way through, I decided that I wouldn't be happy so we went out and bought more paint and did the whole thing again.  Luckily, we had lots of people helping us paint or I would probably still be doing it. 

Here is my step-dad.  He was a professional painter for 20 years. Notice the drastic difference!

I must preface that since the "remodel" we have already moved things around and purchased new furniture, but you get the idea.  

and after...

Raising Confidence

    When I was in college, however many years ago that was (we don't have to get into numbers) I had an obsession with food.  I obsessed over the amount of fat, the number of calories, how much sugar was in it....  Every time I ate, I would immediately head to the gym to try to burn it off.  I became so obsessed with it that it just became easier not to eat it.  I never became anorexic.  I ate, but my meals were more like mini snacks.  I remember a time that my roommate's (and BFF) parents came for the weekend to visit.  They were going out to eat for supper and asked if I wanted to join them.  "No thanks" I said, "I have already eaten" referring to my half cup of applesauce.  I remember waking up in the middle of the night in pain, because I was so hungry.  I would force myself to go back to sleep, while secretly feeling good about the fact that I once again was able to push aside that feeling of hunger.   I don't know that I was super tiny, but I do know that my weight was not healthy for me because I lost my period for about a year. Instead of this worrying me, I instead felt proud that it was all steps to becoming a smaller me. 

   So why I am sharing this with you?  A few years after I got married, the hubby and I started talking about having kids.  I had gotten over my obsession with food, but my biggest fear was that I would have a girl and that I would inadvertently pass on this feeling of having a negative body image. I knew I would never ever speak words to her about her body being one way or another, but I knew that children at a young age look to their parents with how to think and feel about things and I was terrified that she would see me obsessing about something not fitting right or overhear me talking to someone about how I was trying to lose weight.  This was such a fear that it grieved me to think about it.  Of course, when I did become pregnant and I found out that it was a girl, I knew that it was up to me to help instill in her the confidence of being a female; to see her body as vessel that allows her to do things, be strong, and enjoy life.  She is almost four now.  Her dad and I tell her every single day how beautiful she is.  We absolutely never talk about weight, good or bad.  She's actually very small for her age and I try to even watch calling her skinny. I don't want her to ever feel like she has to be one way or another.  I want her to know that she's perfect in every way.  As she gets older, she will see things that will test her self confidence, no matter how much I try to shield her.  My prayer is that she has had enough confidence built inside her that she will not feel the need to conform to what society says is beautiful.  That she will know that she's beautiful. So instead, I talk about being healthy.  When she sees me lifting weights and asks me why I'm exercising, I tell her it's so that I can stay strong. She has started asking if she can run with me.  Not because she wants to be thin, but because she sees how much I enjoy it.

   All this is good, but this morning she threw me for a loop while we were getting ready for work/school.  I was putting on my lipstick before we left and she says to me "mommy, your lipstick is so pretty.  Do you think that maybe someday I could wear lipstick?"    "Kiddo, your pretty without lipstick" I say to her.  Her reply? "So are you mommy!"  OUCH! I've been so wrapped up in making sure she's confident in her body that I haven't even thought about the make up piece. Of course I'm not opposed to wearing make up.  I never leave for work without it, but she has made me step back and contemplate some things. I don't want her to feel like she has to cover her face up to be beautiful.  Sure, I know she's four and she's not thinking about all that.  Right now, to her, it's just something fun that mommy does and she wants to do too, but how do I teach her to be confident in herself when mommy has to put her "face on" to go out?  How do I teach her to know the difference in being confident in herself while also wearing make up and only feeling confident when she's made up?  Does that make sense????  I gave her some chapstick and took her to school, but now she's got me thinking.  Any of you mommies out there have any advice?  With this crazy, messy world we live in, it's important to stick together and raise strong, self confident girls.   

Thanks for reading y'all.  It's been a while I know.   Comments are always welcome!


This is a really, really good article that all parents of girls should read.
http://hopeave.wordpress.com/2013/07/29/how-to-talk-to-your-daughter-about-her-body/

Lesson's learned

We are in the throws of a semi-renovation.  I say semi because we aren't tearing down any walls (yet).  But we are painting and putting in new flooring. For a couple that has never been able to paint even an inch of our own space, this has been a project to say the least.

I guess we could have made it easier on ourselves by doing what most normal people do.  We could have stayed with mom while we were done with everything and then moved right on in....happily ever after.  But, as you know, we were ready for our own space. So we are, day by day, doing what we can to get our house, and lives, in order. 

I've learned a few lessons that I thought I would share with you. 

1.) When buying paint for walls, take a test strip and tape it to your walls for a couple of days to make sure it is the same color you thought it was in the store.  And if your best friend mentions that it "looks a little more blue than gray," BELIEVE her.

2.) When buying curtains, measure them.  If not you will get to the store and wonder just how many you'll need. If you find yourself in this situation, buy the extra curtain.  It's much better to have an extra curtain than to run short.  Plus, if you save the receipt, you can take it back if you don't need it later.

3.) When painting walls, throw away the plastic container that you roll your paint roller in.  Use a bucket and a paint screen.  All the cool kids are doing it!!  It's not nearly as messy and you won't waste as much paint.  This is coming from my step-dad, who was a professional painter for 20 years. He knows what he's talking about =)

4.) Got a toddler running around your feet while your trying to get some things done?  Give her a toy broom and have her "help you paint the walls."

5.) Buy vinegar.  I have heard it before, but never really put it to use.  Vinegar is some dang good stuff.  Seriously, you can use it for just about anything.  Don't believe me?  Check out this page www.vinegartips.com 

6.) Take it one step at a time.  I'm a very impatient person when I want something done.  Also, I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to certain things.  When we bought the house, we knew there were some things we wanted to do to it to make it our own.  As the days went on, there were other little things we found that we would "come back to."  I'm not good at coming back to things.  I want it done, and done right then.  This does not work when there is a list of things, and no time to do them.  I've had to realize, that nothing is perfect, and everything can be fixed....in time.

7.) Don't be afraid to ask for help.  This is also something I am not good at doing.  I absolutely hate asking people to help me.  I feel like it's my house, my responsibility, so I should be doing it myself.  This doesn't work when you have a husband working 60 hours a week.  It's nearly impossibly to do everything by yourself.  Family and friends are the reason we moved back after all.  If they are willing to pitch in, don't be afraid to hand them a paint brush. 

We are putting our floors in Saturday....ourselves.  Dad is going to show us how and then we'll roll up our sleeves and go to work.  I'm sure by the end of the day, I'll have plenty more tips =)

No Biting

In yesterday's post, I hinted at some kind of something that has interfered with us happily moving into our new house.  I might have overstated it a bit.  It's really only a small thing and doesn't affect us actually getting into the house.  It's merely a nuisance for myself. 

Let me back up and tell you what happened.

Monday morning, we were sitting in the bank signing our mortgage papers.  I noticed that my arm was kind of itchy but nothing too crazy. We finished the paperwork and went on about our day. That evening I noticed that the spot that was itching had a bite mark there, with a white pocket.  Thinking it was an ingrown hair or something, I squeezed it. *Note to self: Never squeeze it!*.   Within a few hours, I noticed I bump where the bite was and around it was starting to get a little inflamed.  Still, nothing too serious.  I put some witch hazel on it and kept going.  The next day I woke up to this:

The red had started to get bigger and a pretty little red streak had started up my arm.  The streak worried my boss and she made me go to the doctor.

After looking at it, the physician's assistant said she wasn't sure what it was that bit me.  Maybe a spider, but not a poisonous one (if it was poisonous, it would have been turning dark colors on me).  She prescribed me an antibiotic and a steroid, plus told me to keep taking my Zyrtec (for the antihistamine.)

After three days, when it wasn't getting any better (and I started to get a little panicky), I went back to the doctor.  By this point, the red had spread even further down my arm and was itching like crazy.  She looked at it again and decided to have the doctor come in to get a look.  

The doctor looked at it and seemed concerned.  He sent me to get about 3 gallons of blood drawn to make sure there was no infection in my body.   Everything but the cultures (still waiting to hear back) came back normal.  He prescribed me another antibiotic and told me to come in the next day to see the doctor at the Saturday clinic. 

The next morning I went in.  I had a few people in the office ask about my arm. Apparently, everyone wanted to see this random, unknown origin of a bite.  The doctor that morning looked at it and was stumped too.  She didn't think it looked like a spider bite, but for sure "something got ya."  She was fairly certain that the red streak was not infection, but just part of the allergic reaction.  To help with the itching, she told me to take Benadryl and Pepcid (apparently the Pepcid helps with the H2?? and should help with the itching.)  I'm suppose to go back Tuesday morning for a follow up.  Supposedly, it's going to take at a minimum 7-10 before it gets better.  Fun, Fun...(or not!)

Every morning looks bad because I've slept on it, but here is what it looks like this morning

It's crazy itchy and warm.

So lets count everything that's currently running through my body.  2 types of antibiotics, 1 steroid, 2 types of antihistamine, and Pepcid (not sure what that is.)  That's 6 pills I have to keep track of and it's not improved today.  Needless to say, I'm so ready for it to be gone!