Taking Care

You know how in passing we say "take care."
Yeah, you've said it.
You've heard it.
Do you mean it when you say it?
Do you really hope others will take care of themselves?
Do you really do it?
When someone tells you to take care,
do you really take care of yourself?

As a codependent I used to think it was my job
to take care of everyone and everything.
I was always sticking my nose in other peoples' business.
Yes, peoples is plural.
I tried to control others.
I would serve them to make them love me
or to change them
or just to be in control.
I had no idea I was doing it
but I was.
Then I gained awareness
and I've tried really hard to change me ways.

So now I try not to excessively worry about other people,
(it's still a work in progress)
and I also try a lot harder to worry
about the only thing that was in
my control all along: me, myself and I.

Several years ago I made a very conscious decision
that I was going to take care of me.
That little decision has made me a much happier person.
Not only did it free me from the things that weighed me down and were out of my control,
but it changed my focus completely.
I am always asking myself what I need now.
I don't rely on everyone else to make me happy,
I just try to have a healthy self dialogue to honestly assess my needs
and then I go out and get what I need.

I never used to do that
and then I would be all resentful that nobody was taking care of me.
Half the time I didn't know what I needed
and half the time I did, but I would wait for someone else
to magically show up and give it to me.
In this case there is no such thing as magic.

Of course I was too afraid to look inward
and realize that the blame lied with me,
and not on the others who couldn't work magic
and so I walked around with a chip
on my shoulder all of the time.
I was mad all of the time.
Nobody cared about me.
Boo hoo hoo.

Now I can graciously accept it when others love me
because I no longer have the excessive need to be loved
and I don't expect people to work magic
like in the past.
I appreciate their love and want it,
but I don't have an excessive need for it.
I have the one thing that I really need most:
I love myself.
I take care of myself.

Two days ago
I found this little gem below
on the ground next to
our pile of backpacks.
One of my daughters
had been writing about me at school.

It made my century.
One - someone else notices that I can take care of myself.
Two - that person is one of the people I want to be a good example for most.
Three - She knows it is safe to say that I have flaws because we all do.
Four - She didn't dwell on the flaws. Thank goodness.

It is the only way to really live: taking care.

If we can't take care of ourselves

nobody else will.

Or they might try really hard

but it will never really penetrate because

the inner you will be in turmoil.

Trust  me on this.

Take care now, ya' hear.

While running after writing this post

I heard this song by MJ

and thought my next step is to

find the right balance

of caring for myself and others

for the right reasons.

I wish Michael Jackson would have taken care of himself.

Book Review: The Willpower Instinct

This is a paid review for the BlogHer Book Club.
Go here to join the discussion.

The Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works, Why It Matters, and What You Can Do to Get More of It by Kelly McGonigal
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Here is my word one review of this book: fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

Reading this book made me feel like I was being embraced at the smart kid table. Even though I only got a low 20 on my ACT it no longer mattered, the smart kids were more than willing to share with me their secrets. Even though I didn't know it before I joined them for lunch, I really needed to know all their secrets. You see the smart people are the ones who get willpower. Because they ever so intellectually understand the research; they know what they have to do to drink milk not soda, avoid the desserts all together, and most importantly NOT say anything EVER that is going to be offensive. (Well, I guess I did kind of know I needed that last one.)

I would love to follow around the author of this book: Kelly McGonigal, Ph.D. and a professor at Stanford. I want to watch her every move and I want to question her incessantly at how much of the information she uses from her research to guide her every day decisions. I laugh as I imagine the endless scenarios: Starbucks (are you getting that coffee just because you didn't get enough sleep last night?), Checking e-mail (Are you checking it out of habit, is this what you really want to be doing right now?), Vending machine (Are you not getting the healthy option just because it's there?). Read the book. You'll quickly understand.

All kinds of interesting people find their own willpower by attending McGonigal's seminar, and for the rest of us less-interesting folks who can't afford to go to California, there is the book. I think I would prefer to attend the seminar, but the book sometimes just has to do the trick because it's all we've got. I did a quick read of this book for this review, but the next time I pick it up (and there will be a next time) I plan to read it as it was originally intended: a self-guided master through a willpower challenge in my life. I think the book will be much more powerful when used a bit at a time towards a real-life obstacle, especially for those of us from the lower end of the IQ spectrum who (cough cough) have a hard time retaining all the amazingly fascinating information.

Great read and I highly recommend it to everyone, but especially those of us that are sick of fighting the same battles of willpower over and over again. And really, isn't that all of us? Even the kids at the smart table had to learn this for themselves; they just did it before the rest of us suckers.

View all my reviews

Here is an interesting small workshop I found on youtube.

2013 goals or Going for the Gold

I've been trying to finalize my 2013 goals.

Even though I gave myself a C last year,

I am an absolute believer in the adage

"goals that are not written down are just wishes."

While at Ikea on our date Saturday

LG and I came up with a winning idea

on how to motivate our family

towards betterment.

Money is a pure motivator

for all of us,

so we are going to reward ourselves

with GOLD.

We decided on family Olympics

for 2013.

Or as LG says,

"We're having family hunger games."

Everyone will get to put their names

in a pot in a once a week drawing

for 5 gold coins.

We will all earn chances in the pot

by accomplishing

our 5 personal and 5 family goals daily.

(That's up to 70 shots a week)

Unlike hunger games,

we want our names in the pot.

The more we accomplish our goals,

the better chance we have to win a gold coin (or 5).

Our theme is

"Go for the Gold."

Get it.

We're the Gold's.

We're so funny.

I am super excited about

the 5 rings of improvement.

LG and I narrowed our desires for our kids into

5 categories:

spiritual, mental, physical, emotional, and financial.

(See the above photo)

Here are the goals

we came up with as a family

in each category.

Some of these goals are going to be easier than others.

Reading should be a cinch.

Believe it or not

I think sharing feelings

might be harder (especially for some)

 than daily scripture study.

The kids are already up in arms

about the soda

but I love that they will still have the choice.

If they drink soda,

they lose a shot at a dollar.

If it were up to us

we'd take it away all together

but this way we make the point

without taking away their agency.

I am super excited about

seeing how this family challenge

will pan out.

I hope to win a few bucks along the way

and I think this may

have the "fun" factor

to keep us motivated all year.

Anyhow,

I am sure you have all been dying

to see what my goals are for

2013.

With no further ado,

by category

we go.

Financial

1.Save a $1 a day toward family vacation.

2.Stay under budget.

Emotional

1.Journal/study/meditate daily before doing anything else.

2.No phone in bed.

3.Give a meaningful inspired service weekly.

Physical

1.Use myfitnesspal every day until I weigh under 160 pounds.

2 Keep running 3x/week.

3.Run 2 half marathons (unless I get pregnant)
4. Add in a fourth workout every week. Something other than running.

Spiritual

1.Pray every day.

2.Temple once a month (take Abigail with 4x)

3.Organize family genealogy.

Mental

1.Learn a new word every day. 

(I discovered a cool app for this)

2.Go back to school,

even if it's just one class.

3.Write every day

(blog/outline of novel)

4.Read 100 books

(adding in 1 junior non-fiction

to regular reading goals)

Marital

1.Bond every night.

(Communicate regularly)

2.Go to bed and wake up together.

It's lofty, I know,

but if I only get a C,

I will still have accomplished twice

as much as if I had never written anything down.

My OCD side really loves fresh starts.

Just think, we have one every day.

When Tragedy Strikes

I feel. I feel deep. It is part of who I am. I have no way around it. I am a sensitive person. I am pretty sure I get it from my mom. I cry at the drop of a hat. I really should be an actress. So, when tragedy strikes, it kind of knocks me out for a bit. It really knocks me out. I have to give myself cognitive therapy so that I don't succumb to the warmth of the sheets in my bed. I have to distract myself. I even lie to myself if necessary. Most of all I have to get some answers.

I think because I feel, I have chosen God consistently throughout my life. I need somewhere to go when nothing makes sense and let's face it, there is a lot that doesn't make sense.

Like other people though, I usually vacillate in my own incompetence for a bit before I turn to God. I am trying to change that, but I guess I can take comfort in the fact that at least I get to God at some point. A lot of people don't have the same luxury.

So after the CT shooting last Friday, these were my reactions, put out there for everyone and their dog to see. Oh the evil of social media. It really shows one's true colors.

This should not still be happening. Give me your best solutions for the safety of our children. Serious. I am writing Congress. I am so heartbroken.

I refuse to read more than one news report about the shooting. 
I suggest you all do the same.

Use your energy to make the world a better place.

We have the highest obligation to protect the children. The American citizens demand that every school has two armed trained military personnel on guard every day. Repost if you agree.

Pondering again on the words of Mormon leader Dallin H Oaks spoken to the world that would listen just two months ago:

Although I do not speak in terms of politics or public policy, like other Church leaders, I cannot speak for the welfare of children without implications for the choices being made by citizens, public officials, and workers in private organizations. We are all under the Savior’s 

command to love and care for each other and especially for the weak and defenseless.

Children are highly vulnerable. They have little or no power to protect or provide for themselves and little influence on so much that is vital to their well-being. Children need others to speak for them, and they need decision makers who put their well-being ahead of selfish adult interests.

I know one amazing 12-year-old angel with open arms and the most tender heart who is probably cuddling up with some kindergartners tonight and that brings good tears to my eyes. Love you Braxton Wills!

How about we train gun sniffing dogs to guard every school? I seriously can't stop obsessing for an answer. I grieve by taking action.

Trying to press forward by going out to a movie but it's hard to move forward when so many fellow Americans are in mourning. God bless.

It just occurred to me that God had even more reason to be in public schools on Friday. I am sure He held each of those victims in the palm of His hand and hugged them as He told them they would never again have to feel pain.

See how I vacillate? I ended off with this:

Love. Peace. Joy. This world is overcome and the next will have no heartache.

And this: Must read! So touching.

twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
they were filled wit

h such joy, they didn't know what to say.
they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"this is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house."
when what to their wondering eyes did appear,
but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
and in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
those children all flew into the arms of their King
and as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
and as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad."
then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe
then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"may this country be delivered from the hands of fools"
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"
then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"come now my children, let me show you around."
excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
and i heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"in the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA

The only place for peace is God. I don't know why it takes me so long to figure that out every time tragedy strikes. I am stubborn. Hard-headed. Prideful. A natural woman. Eventually I'll get there without vacillation, but at least I am aware of my tendency, and that is the first step towards fixing it.

So, as I hold onto God as tight as I can today. I write this.

I am proud to say that my kids went off to school today just like any other day. I am not mother of the year, far from it, but I made a choice a long time ago to limit the media into my home. We don't have any TV but Netflix and it makes all the difference. They know something tragic happened and we have prayed for CT, but my babies went off to school today feeling safe. And that is all a mother can do. If by chance some awful thing ever does happen to them, all I want them to have is a feeling of safety and security and love up to the very moment of the unspeakable.

I thank others who have helped me make sense of it all.

Two links were particularily helpful. 

This one gives a plea for the mentally ill.

And my hubby sent me here where he was able to convince me that the answer is not about gun control

or even about guarding our schools. 

The answer my friends is the same answer for all other woes in our life:

Trust in God.

Evil has always been around. Awful things happen every day. We are no worse off today then yesterday. In fact, we are better off because we don't live in a war-torn country. We as Americans freak out when tragedy strikes, but tragedy strikes much more frequently in other parts of the world.

So what can I do?

I can trust in God.

How can I trust in God?

I can continue to pray with my family.

We can read our scriptures and let God's word work in our lives.

We can limit the crooked media's influence in our homes.

We can show compassion to others.

We can stop having stigmas towards the mentally ill.

We can reach out to our neighbors who may be struggling.

We can love more deeply.

We can quit fighting over politics.

And that is what I resolve to do.

And because I have a new resolve, 

I can be grateful to God for the reminder, 

even if it's in the form of an awful tragedy.

A God of Grace

I try to apply

a good

Southern saying

into my life

daily.

It helps.

A lot.

For instance:

when your 13-year-old

has lost yet one more thing.

This time it's a $30

memory card

that holds all of her photos

for photography class.

You worry that she's never

going to be organized enough

to get into college.

You start to edge out onto

the cliff of anger

and desperation

and are about to go crazy

with the lecture

and the screaming,

but you take a step back

and pray

instead.

God's got this.

See how that works?

Worry.

Gone.

Just like that.

It works on the big things too.

Like when you are on the verge

of divorce

because your husband

has quit functioning

all together

(I can say this

because it has been years now)

and you can't go another day

with a broken man.

God's got this.

And he did.

And it wasn't up to me.

It never is.

I am not the healer.

I do not control anyone

or anything.

All I can control is me

and my choice to be happy.

That's it.

And the best way to be happy

is to know

God's got this.

Because he always does.

Fat

Fat is a nasty word.
The only time it should be used is in regards to the stuff on the backside of a butchered pig.
Fatback is the only time when fat is a good thing.
And what a good thing it is.
Just ask the green beans.

I've been called fat. A lot. It sucks.
After watching this video on facebook yesterday, I was perplexed.


I offered the following on my page as a passive aggressive response to a few people I know who judge "fat people."

"I hate it when physically in-shape people look down upon those who aren't. I hate to tell you this, but you're not superior, especially in regards to the things that matter most: kindness and appreciation for others wherever they are in life is a learned art and maybe you should get off the treadmill long enough to take some lessons. I don't experience as much prejudice in this department as I used to, but it sure makes my blood boil whenever I encounter it."

The funniest thing about my above rant is that I got all kinds of people, my friends mind you, apologizing to me for the way that I had been treated. Why did they apologize? Because they think I am fat and that I have reason to be apologized to. Kind of ironic, huh? I never mentioned that I had been treated badly, did I? In fact, I hadn't had any teasing at all, I only posted the comment in defense of others and in opposition to the people out there looking down on this lady. I've actually been feeling pretty good about the way I am looking until yesterday. HA.

Well as you, who read my blog, know I'm on a journey of self-discovery. I've learned to love myself and I am still learning to take care of myself. I all too well know the life of this anchor. I know what it is like to be raising 3 young daughters (and she has a full-time job to boot) and to feel the stress and eat too much and exercise too little. I also know what it's like to get off my butt and count calories. I also know what it's like to have a propensity to being larger as a child and as an adult.

I also know what it's like to lose a nephew and to know that in his last week on this earth he was called fat by some mean little girls and that the word F A T may have been racing through his mind in his last breathe. It breaks my heart. Absolutely makes me shed tears. Right now in fact.

Yes, people are fat, but trust me, they know it. You pointing it out to them, or looking down on them, or even apologizing for others' fat name callers to someone who has recently lost 35 pounds doesn't really help the situation and it doesn't really motivate people to be better.

Do you know what motivates people to be better? Loving them wherever they are. Loving them right where they are. Even if it's at 700 pounds. Anyone who has watched Richard Simmons should know this fact.


Do you know why loving them helps? Because the reason they are fat is that they don't love themselves enough. Period. Or maybe they have a health condition? Or maybe they are just a husky kid that could eventually be a college football star if they live long enough to pursue that goal? The point being: You don't know what they are capable of, if all you see is F A T. And you will also never know the beauty of loving people in their weakness if you can't see past it. You don't even know what scars are under the fat.

If you can love F A T people then maybe they can learn to love themselves. And if you can love them F A T, maybe they will love you in your weakness.

See how that works? Well, yeah, you do kind of have to admit your own weakness first. Maybe you could start with judging,  lack of charity, or complete and total PRIDE?

Embracing mom-hood

I'm learning to embrace my mom-hood.

It's kind of like man-hood, but with boobs.

And a whole lot of other stuff.

I have recently learned something about myself.

Something that has never dawned on me before.

I'm insecure in my parenting.

I don't know why,

I really am a pretty darn good mom.

I can only remember one time with my kids got in trouble in school.

Abigail was in kindergarten and she got written up for writing on her desk. In pencil.

What can I say? She was my first.

My kids are well-rounded.

They are kind for the most part.

Why should I be insecure?

I am now going to resist listing their good traits.

Because I am trying to learn to NOT need to do that.

It's not healthy.

My kids are MY KIDS.

What else do they need to prove to me?

Nothing.

They don't need to be a certain way for me to love them.

And they certainly shouldn't need to be a certain way for me to love me.

So in honor of embracing my impeerfections as a parent,

and in honor of the vulnerability 

that I've been learning about in Brene Brown's book.

Here is the kind of mom I am NOT.

1- I am not an overly anal car-seat parent.

I don't believe in making my kids ride in a car while suffocating.

(After posting this photo on facebook it was brought to my attention

that the straps should be tighter and the harness higher.)

Whatever.

I also usually don't remember to remind my kids 

to put on their seat-belts til we are at least 

out of the driveway and usually we are down the street a ways.

2- I hope to have one more baby to test this next mom item out,

but I don't believe I will ever be one of those wrapper moms.

Kind of like rapper mom, 

but with a big long blanket that goes around your whole body.

And inside the blanket is a baby,

wrapped to your body.

Clinging to you for their very life,

like a car-seat will kill their brain cells.

Hmm, maybe I am a car-seat mom after all.

I am a total believer in the baby carrier.

Always have been, and I believe I always will be.

I also secretly hope that my hubby would never

be a wrapper-dad.

I just don't find it sexy at all.

Unless we are in the African jungle,

and it would be the only way to keep the baby safe.

You know straddling his chest,

while he takes his machete to fight off the warthog,

that might be sexy.

3-My three year old goes to bed with a 

sippy cup of chocolate milk every night.

It is just a little bit of chocolate

and we only added the chocolate because my mom

ruined the perfectly good white milk on her last visit.

I have no intention of changing this tooth decaying habit

until  my dentist tells me I have to.

It's hard enough to get the kid to bed,

and at least we can bribe her with the cup.

And let's face it,

I'm soooo over it by 10 pm

when we finally get her to bed.

4-I put my three year old to bed at 10 pm.

If any of you would like to come over and wrestle her to sleep earlier

or keep her from her 4:00 nap every day,

more power to you.

5- In the summer my kids and I stay up til midnight

and we all usually sleep in until at least 10 am.

I always laugh at the parents who say they would love

for their kids to sleep in,

but, "THEY JUST WON'T,

I've tried keeping them up."

Yeah, well, you have to keep them up for longer than one night.

Keep them up late for a week,

and I promise they will sleep in.

I think some parents take pride in their

early to bed, early to rise schedule.

I might be one of them if I could ever do it.

6- I really really love Little Ceasar's Pizza

and Taco Tuesdays at Del Taco.

I wish my hubby would let us eat out every night.

I don't really enjoy cooking

unless I am in the mood to bake.

I'm a good cook,

it's jut not my thing.

7-I only change my kids sheets as needed.

Sometimes we can go a couple of months,

especially when they sleep on top of their comforters.

A few dead skin cells

obviously doesn't kill them.

8- I only scrub my showers on a bi-monthly basis.

Get over it.

9-I make my kids fold their own clothes

and let their drawers be messy

if that's how they roll.

10- I yell at my kids,

but try to minimize that to

only once a day,

and even then I save the

really angry tone

for the big time

(like when they run in the street

and almost get hit by a car)

and then I hug them real tight

because I am so relieved that they didn't get themselves killed.

All while secretly knowing

it wouldn't have been themselves

to get themselves killed,

but my crappy parenting.

And there you have my worst fear.

I am totally anxious about my kids

growing up.

I don't want them to be living proof

that I was the crappiest mom in the world.

Oh but Alice,

the only thing a parent needs

to be a good parent is love.

Well, if I could just convince myself of that

then I might be ready for what awaits me.

Please God, don't let them go to jail

or get in a car accident

while not wearing their seat-belt.

The six cavities I can handle,

and the emotional immaturity,

and the inability to organize,

and the one who calls home from school once a week

because she needs more love,

and the whole nail polish kit

left outside for a week

with most of the caps off,

(they were outside because

they've been banned from inside)

the couches with marker stains,

the occasional B on a report card,

the one who is just like her dad,

and the other one who is just like her mom,

and the one who just never shuts up,

ever.

I can handle all of that,

and probably a lot more than I realize,

but my prayer

is that you don't let any physical harm

come to them because of my

inabilities and weaknesses

and the fact that I didn't want them

strapped to my chest

because I was just happy

for them to do their own thing.

So that I could do mine.

Please make sure your 

guardian angels make up the difference.

Because really,

that's all a mom can do.

Admit it.

Get over it.

And leave it in the hands of God.

Now, the way this works is you tell me something

about your parenting that makes you vulnerable

and then we leave our kids at home

with their dad while bonding over Olive Garden breadsticks.

You can tell me that you are really good at all of the above,

only if you are willing to dish out a list of 10 of your own

where you suck.

Because perfectionism is a myth,

and the sooner we all embrace that,

the happier we will be.

Book Review - Daring Greatly

This is a paid for review as part of BlogHer BookClub.

Getting paid to read a book that I would have been 

snatching off the shelf anyhow is a very proud moment for me.

Do you want to change the world?

Do you want to have more powerful interpersonal relationships?

Do you want to explore into your own soul 

to make sense of your life?

Do you want to live whole-hearted?

Do you want to rid yourself from shame?

Do you want to understand men and women better?

Do you want to give your heart a hug?

I thought I would do something different this time and give you a list of questions for this book review. This book is so jam-packed with the "hard stuff" that I don't even want to dare pretend that I get it all. I will be reading it repeatedly until I have absorbed and memorized every nugget of wisdom. I wish every other person on the planet would do the same. It would seriously bring world peace and most certainly would give everyone inner peace. I'm not kidding, It's that powerful.

I was proud to be a part of this book campaign. I was thrilled. I mean I jumped up and down when I got the e-mail confirmation and cooked a fancy dinner for my family when it arrived in the mail. I have been pouring over its pages and sharing parts with my hubby every chance I get. I have compromised my facebook relationships with the overabundance of quotes from this book. I just can't stop. It's too totally amazing not to share. YOU HAVE TO READ THIS BOOK. If you don't want to buy your own copy, borrow mine. I can't share it though for at least another month until I have it memorized.

I had a powerful experience at work last night, using the principles learned in this book. I was substitute teaching a class at the therapeutic boarding school where I work. I gave the kids a reward for every half an hour of hard work. We listened to a song of their choice (with my approval). One boy chose a powerfully emotional song about a girl who wanted to be with her dying boyfriend forever. I loved it. Another boy in the class didn't. He started to shame the song choice kid. I stopped him and talked with the whole class about "shaming" and talked with them about giving people space to be who they are, even if they are wrong or different. I then turned to the shamer, and told him how much I loved him and admired him and that I would hope other people would give him space to love what he loved. He got teary-eyed. He turned to the other kid and said, "Dude, I am so sorry, I don't like that song, but it's cool if you do."

World peace, people. World peace.

A huge thanks to marriage counselor friend John Morgan who turned me on to Brene Brown just months ago. He shared with me her talks from Ted. I was hooked. Brene is a researcher and has a PHD and LMSW. Her life's work is shame and vulnerability. Here are her videos. Watch them both. Come back if you have to. They will make you understand why you need to read this book. Even if you aren't into that psychological mumbo-jumbo, you need to be.

You're Beautiful

I've been struggling for months.
I couldn't pin-point what was going on.
I thought it was just part of the grief of losing my nephew,
and it partially was, but it started before we lost Braxton.
I was angry.
I just got angrier.
For months I didn't want to pray.
I didn't want to go to church.
I didn't want to read the scriptures.
I just wanted to stew,
and get angrier about all the unfairness of life.

I spent a night at the cabin with a few friends last week,
and we took the time to have a honest share with one another.
I was floored by the experience.
Just a few moments of humble and honest self-reflection
completely turned me around.

I was able to see a part of me that I already identified long ago.
I was able to see the part of me that went straight
to pride and anger
as to protect myself from the hurt or disappointment.

I was angry because I felt like I could never measure up.
I was angry that people around me didn't appreciate me.
I was angry because I didn't want to need God.
I was angry because I was hurt.
I was sad, so I was angry.
My subconscious thinks it's easier to be angry.
But it's not.
Pride is destructive.
Anger is a form of pride.

After two seconds of honest reflection,
I immediately felt God telling me it's o.k.
I am just human doing the best I can.
He wasn't mad at me.
He was glad that I finally figured it out.
I don't need to be angry.
I need to be vulnerable
and let God heal.

I most of all needed to re-understand that
I am not alone.
We all need God.
We all need to be told that we are beautiful.

 

40 pounds

Our landlord came over today.

We've never met in person before.

The only place she has ever seen me

is on my blog.

Coincidentally, my blog is how she

decided to rent to us last April.

She walked in the house

and said,

"Wow, you look so different than I expected.

You look so different than your blog."

I said,

"I've lost forty pounds since that blog photo."

Then she said she could really tell

and that I should update my photo.

I decided to do a little experiment and take a photo to compare.

I do believe there is a difference.

A toddler size difference.

The side by side was validation

for all that running

and calorie counting.

I so wish I could have a baby without gaining

that forty pounds back.

But, I am grateful for the knowledge 

that my parents raised me to have.

Family is what matters most.

And guess what?

I have a family that loves me

no matter what size I am.

And I have four wonderful children

who are extremely grateful to me

for not placing my appearance

at such a high priority that

they were completely erased

from this world.

I know of many women

who determine their self-worth

by size.

I want you all to know

that I was just as important 

to my God, my husband, and my children

in that before picture.

And I will keep that picture on my blog,

even though I can now change it out for a skinnier version

because I love me

and I love that those old pounds represent

the time I spent with my children

and the months I gave to growing them inside of me

instead of obsessing at the gym

to please people in a world that

have screwed up priorities.

Yes, I feel a million times better

now that I exercise regularly

and eat healthier.

And yes there are women

out there who look great

and can have babies and go back to 

pre-baby size the day after birth.

Yes, there are women who

are healthy and not unhealthily obsessed with their weight.

Yes, yes, yes.

But me, I am probably going to gain my

forty pounds back

and I will probably gain more back after

the next baby is born

because having a newborn is stressful to me

and I get so tired

and choose to take care of my kids

over myself.

I may do better this time

as I have made great progress in 

the taking care of me category.

Or I may not.

But in the end,

I will have made the choice that matters most.

And that makes me happy

with the before and after pictures.

Loving my body.

I feel very uncomfortable being called inspiring when it comes to my body. My mind, my faith, my writing, even my family...they can be inspiring, but not my body.

Why is that? Because I have a horrible self image. I believe myself to be a fat girl. I have always been the biggest of my three sisters. I have been teased as a child, adolescent, and adult because of my weight.

So I got a message from a friend the other day. She has been following me on facebook. She knows I started running again and she wanted me to know that I am her hero and that I am inspiring. It makes me cringe to write those words in reference to my body, even though I have read her encouragement at least ten times.

She wants to know how to start. She is sick of being over-weight. I feel 176% unqualified to answer her. In fact, I don't really know what her answer is. I don't even have full confidence that I can keep helping myself in this regard. Every day is a battle for me. I truly believe I have a less severe form of food addiction and every day I am still battling it. I don't have all the answers for me yet, how in the world can I help someone else?

I have been on a self-discovery journey for a few years now. It started with just getting to know my past and my emotions and has advanced to making changes. My body is a place that I needed to change. I don't know if anyone can heal physically without first the emotional healing.

I can't even describe my whole journey. I am inadequate to express the process. So, I don't know what to tell you. I wish I had the magic words to motivate you. I wish I had the magic words to make Oreos less appealing also. That would help me out a lot.

However, I do have three tips.

Number one. Get real. What is really going on with you? Why do you loathe yourself? I promise you that inward there is some self hatred. That was what made the final decision for me to start exercising. I really made it a matter of prayer about how I could change. My answer wasn't anything I expected. My answer from God was a question. "Alice, why can't you love yourself like I love you?" When I started really pondering that question I felt empowered. The master of the Universe loves me. He loves me even when I don't love me. Shouldn't I love myself as well as he loves me? And isn't the way that I am treating the temple he gave me a huge indication of how poorly I am doing in the love department? If you really don't know how to do this for yourself, I highly recommend using the 12 steps in your own life. The LDS church puts out a great manual, and the steps can be used by anyone to apply the atonement in their life and make lasting changes. The fourth step is a really great tool at getting to know yourself. Years ago, I became acquainted with the 12 steps for my codependency, but I truly believe that the principles I have learned there have been greatly beneficial with my body image also.

Number two. Just start. One step at a time. After I had my spiritual awakening (which I am still in the middle of - still figuring out) I made a promise to myself that I would get started. I've done all the calorie counting many times in my life, so this time I wanted to focus more on getting strong. I decided to go back to where I was when I felt strongest. It was back when I was 17 and running every day. I decided that I would once again run...no matter how hard it was to get there. I set a goal. I could barely run a lap. I decided that in two months time I could at LEAST do a 5k, even if I had to walk it. I would try my hardest to run it, but I would walk it if I had to. No matter what, I was going to do it. And I did it. I ran the whole thing. It only took me two months to get in shape enough to run a 5k. I surprised myself. I was way stronger than I thought I was. In the process, I got to see the me that God loves. All along the only thing keeping me from doing it was myself.

Three. Get real again. Don't set yourself up for failure. Everyone says that a person should exercise first thing in the morning. I would always fail because I am NOT a morning person. Figure out how to make exercise doable for you. It has truly become a break for me. I like exercising in the afternoon. I decided my older kids could watch their baby sister after school two times a week for an hour. It's the least they could do for me when I do so much for them. (Again I had to love myself enough to believe this to really be true - all part of the journey) A lot of the time the baby is napping and it isn't a big deal. I only run three times a week. On Saturday my husband does baby duty. It has been working just fine for me for 6 months. 6 months. Wow, I didn't realize it had been that long. I kind of feel proud of myself. See! See, how I just wrote "kind of: ?Downplaying!  That is what I do when it comes to my body. So excuse me while I say, "I am damn proud of myself." I hope the Lord will forgive me for taking up the d word for a bit. It helps me get through to myself.

So I guess my answer is this. It's a journey. An old Latin saying is "know thyself." Knowing thyself is a journey that everyone should take. It's scary. It's actually totally debilitating for a lot of us, but it is so worth it. Because really, you are amazing. You are loved by the Supreme Creator, the Father of all. He wants you to love yourself like he loves you. The only way you can love yourself is to figure out how you don't love yourself and change. The change starts in your mind.

So, I like to sing to myself when I get unmotivated. You're gonna love me. Sometimes I just have to fake myself out. I have to tell myself that I am going to love me on the days that I know I don't. Here's your soundtrack. Get started. You won't regret it.




The best thing about being at the bottom is that it gives you more reason to be pleased with yourself. Other people are worried about getting to that 8 minute mile mark. I am fighting against nobody but the couch. If I get off the couch I win. When you have neglected yourself for so long, the only way to go is up and out. Every time you get on the treadmill you feel like a rockstar. It's totally awesome. I want that feeling for you. I have only lost 20 pounds. I mean I have lost 20 pounds!!! Amazing. See how that works. It's all in the mind.

Only Have One

I'm a codependent.
A full-fledge flaming codependent.
What does that mean?
It means that I am addicted to others at an unhealthy level.
It means that my core issue is
needing other people to fill my love tank.
It means that I unconsciously do things
(all the time) to feed my addiction.
Things like making too many comments in Sunday School.
Or blogging for attention.
I often cry myself to sleep at night because nobody cares.

And then there are the times (too many times)
that I try to require things of my husband,
things that I need to let go.
I don't do it to be wrong,
I just want to be loved
and I just want to love others
and so I hold on to that thing
far too long.

It's part of my addiction.
I try to control other people.
Unconsciously.
To gain importance.
To get love.
I can't have enough of love and importance.

Just saying it is part of the addiction
doesn't excuse it
because it is still very much my life
and I have to own it and change it
and sculpt me into what I want me to be.
It does give understanding
and the first step to fixing is admitting.

So, this post is my way of letting something go.
Something hard.
Even though I have every right to care about it.
and I am completely justified in my desires
because they are pure.
Yet, they are my desires for him,
and not his desires for him,
so I have to let it go.
Even if he is wrong
and doesn't see it.
Because I can't live his life.
I can only live my life.

Apparently JJ Heller understands
why I cried myself to sleep last night.
Next time I am going to sing this little song
instead of getting all frustrated with myself.
Because let's face it,
nobody gets it right every time.
Everyone needs room to screw up.

And I have decided that true love is
really only one thing.
Loving each other through your screw ups.
And boy do I love that man.
I'm the luckiest girl that he loves me back
even when I try to control him.

Peace and Quiet

Yesterday I was reading a blog

where the mom was keepin it real.

I like those kinds of blogs.

The real ones.

As opposed to the fake ones.

The blog's author (who I have no recollection - sorry)

shared her concerns

over not having adult conversations

and what it would be like to go back to the workforce

someday while her working-mom counterparts

build their careers as she changes diapers.

She talked about her fight with depression

over the years.

I personally think she needs to up her meds.

It's amazing what you can tell about a person from their blog.

She was real and she was also somewhat depressing.

I've been there.

I have those days.

But thankfully, because of some psychiatric drugs that work,

they are few and far between.

Not a day goes by that I am not grateful that my anti-depressants work.

Overall, I am a pretty content person.

I am such a happy mom.

I love my job as a stay-home mom.

I don't know if it will last forever,

but I love it for now.

And the longer I live,

the more I understand that

the now is all you should worry about.

I love my kids.

I love spending time with them.

I love teaching them.

I love nurturing them.

I love watching them grow.

I love building friendships with them.

I love discussing with them all kinds of things:

fashion, hygiene, religion, boys, music, cooking: 

the list is endless.

I love it when they make me laugh.

I love it when I make them laugh.

I also love getting away from them.

And having adult time.

Free time.

Me time.

Peace and quiet.

Any mom who doesn't admit this is a liar.

Or is generally psychotic and needs therapy.

I told this other blogging depressed mom that there

have been two practices that

have kept me sane

through the years.

#1. 

I try to have a lunch-date with a girlfriend once a week.

It can be the same friend or different ones. 

It can be with kids or without,

but for some reason that connection 

really helps me to be happy.

#2.

I have to have my weekly date with my cute hubby. 

It is a MUST.

I HAVE to have it.

Like the air that I breathe.

Even if it just means that hubby and I sneak away to the library for some peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet is sometimes better than you know what.
Especially the longer we've been married
and the more kids we accumulate.