Today in church it seemed every meeting was chalk full of wisdom and knowledge I needed imparted onto me. The one that spoke loudest to me was the lesson in Relief Society about forgiveness. There are several people in my life who I haven't addressed forgiveness with; some that I should and want to forgive willingly, and some who I don't want to forgive but feel compelled to do so simply out of obedience to The Lord.
One person I've felt a genuine desire to forgive is my own father. He destroyed any semblance of a loving, cohesive father/daughter relationship growing up. To forgive him requires a couple things. First, I need to quit visiting the past. In all truth doing so means I'm harboring that pain. Second, I need to work toward having a relationship with him as two adults. Emotions make it far more complex and entangled than it sounds, but I want to get there. To that place where I feel the peace associated with true forgiveness.
A pair that I part have a true desire to forgive, part feel compelled out of obedience is my sister's in-laws. Sounds funny that I'd have any contentious feelings toward them, but I do for things that happened in the past. I'm working to get there; to finish crossing the bridge from having to, to wanting to.
Another pair are some women I used to be friends with. I have no desire to forgive them other than to obey my Heavenly Father. The wounds are deep and I feel righteous in my anger. I don't presently have the humility to reach out, but know that I must. Neither were raised in the Christian way I was, so these principles weren't taught to them. They know the world's way, not His way. What the catch there is for me is they're less accountable than I because I do know better through the teachings of the gospel. Dang it! I hate being so accountable sometimes!
I remember a while back I was in my bishop's office repenting of some sins in my past. I told him that even though the sins I was repenting of were years and years old, I had felt so strongly that I needed to address them in order to progress in my life spiritually the way that I, and my HF, wanted me to. He likened sin unto large rocks in a river. You see the largest, most obvious stones first. They're huge, jutting out of the water, and the ones that demand your attention. As the river lowers you see more stones, smaller stones, all the way down until you finally get to the pebbles and sediment that rests on the river bed. That's the refiner's fire. He compels us to first address the largest stones, or sins, then he lowers the river to reveal the next stones, and then the next until you finally reach that fine sediment. For me, personally, I feel like I still have SO much work to do. I am motivated however by His forgiveness toward me. What would I do without it? I'd be damned, with no hope for my soul. I depend on His mercy and grace to learn by my mistakes, be forgiven of them and be allowed to move forward. I MUST do the same towards others.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Opportunity
Do you ever have that moment of clarity in your life when you recognize you're on the cusp of an opportunity, and you desperately don't want to mess it up? Well, that's me. As my company continues to grow I'm faced with the opportunity to be promoted to my team's manager. My team has already experienced change recently as we've realigned again to another division of the company, and with it has come a new boss. Change looms again, as it always does, but this time it's personal.
It isn't just the promotion that I don't want to mess up (and subsequently lose before it has even officially been made mine), it's the actions that I know are expected of me and are under close review from my new chain of command. For example, I have an employee who has been with us for 60 days, and is performing poorly. It is expected that I council this employee, and if in 30 days they do not show dramatic improvement, it is expected that I let this person go. How I handle this will set in my senior team's mind the expectation that I can either perform the functions of a manager or I cannot. That is on one hand. On the other hand this employee is a person, a human being, and one I wish to be compassionate towards and offer every opportunity for improvement. I must please the master and the beast, if you will.
For all intents and purposes, I already perform the job. In fact, the tempo of my current daily work life is at a higher pace than what it will be after we hire 1 - 2 more head count, and I settle into actually managing the team. I am exhausted. I keep trying to remind myself that this is temporary, and as with most things it gets harder before it gets easier.
My hope for myself is to remain humble and compassionate in an otherwise cold, corporate world. I have been shown great professional compassion in my career, and if I'm wise I will emulate that in my new role. Yes, I know I am not about to become the leader of the free world, but that doesn't matter. My role, and how I perform in it, affects not only myself but the members of my team. I care about how each individual feels at the end of the day - so for that fact alone I strive to be an excellent leader.
Well, it's late, and another long work day shortly awaits me.
It isn't just the promotion that I don't want to mess up (and subsequently lose before it has even officially been made mine), it's the actions that I know are expected of me and are under close review from my new chain of command. For example, I have an employee who has been with us for 60 days, and is performing poorly. It is expected that I council this employee, and if in 30 days they do not show dramatic improvement, it is expected that I let this person go. How I handle this will set in my senior team's mind the expectation that I can either perform the functions of a manager or I cannot. That is on one hand. On the other hand this employee is a person, a human being, and one I wish to be compassionate towards and offer every opportunity for improvement. I must please the master and the beast, if you will.
For all intents and purposes, I already perform the job. In fact, the tempo of my current daily work life is at a higher pace than what it will be after we hire 1 - 2 more head count, and I settle into actually managing the team. I am exhausted. I keep trying to remind myself that this is temporary, and as with most things it gets harder before it gets easier.
My hope for myself is to remain humble and compassionate in an otherwise cold, corporate world. I have been shown great professional compassion in my career, and if I'm wise I will emulate that in my new role. Yes, I know I am not about to become the leader of the free world, but that doesn't matter. My role, and how I perform in it, affects not only myself but the members of my team. I care about how each individual feels at the end of the day - so for that fact alone I strive to be an excellent leader.
Well, it's late, and another long work day shortly awaits me.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
I suppose many of us could look at our lives and think of one persistent thing that has plagued us for years, or perhaps even our whole life. The decision then is whether you allow the unhappiness of it to fester, or accept it for what it is and move forward. I am trying to choose the latter.
As a lot of people know, Bill was injured in Baghdad in 2005. Not to over-simplify, but while in convoy an Iraqi water truck t-boned their humvee knocking it out of line by approximately 8 feet and briefly knocking the occupants unconscious. They came to, discovered their vehicle was still working, and hustled back to base. That is the moment that has stayed with us to this point, and been with us our entire life as a couple.
The accident happened right at the beginning of an 18 month deployment. They were checked out, released back to duty, but Bill didn't say anything about the injuries that were plaguing him. Numbness, headaches, insomnia... Eventually he was medi-vacced to Germany then back to the states where he waited in the Wounded Warrior program until his unit returned.
Fast forward to 2009 and we're back in WA with Bill doing the OWT program at JBLM. It's supposed to be a 1 year gig with a 1 year extension. At approximately 6 months into it, they informed him they wouldn't allow him a 2nd year. Medical issues from the 2005 accident were becoming aggravated as a result of the daily PT, and they didn't want any broken Soldiers in their command, so they cut him. That's when we started the process for the medical review board (MEB).
Most recently, as he's traveled to San Antonio for the MEB, talked more with the DAV and has finally after years and years worked his way closer to the tail end of the board, we've finally faced the reality that I don't think either of us wanted to recognize or admit. Bill's injuries, such as degenerative disc disorder, traumatic brain injury (from having his head knocked around inside that humvee like a coconut) along with other major issues says one thing: disabled veteran. So much so that the likelihood of him every returning to law enforcement is slim. It's actually probably none, but I say slim to ease that pain. He'll never do firefighting again, and lastly, he'll never be a Soldier again. The Army has said his back does not make him fit for service.
So we wait. We wait for a disability rating of 30% or higher because if it's below 30% he won't be medically retired. After 17+ years of service, if he got a rating of less than 30%, he'd just be put out. I cannot explain the depth of our emotions over all of this. Bill feels as though he's a burden to me and the family. I'm fearful of having a disabled husband and what that will demand of me. I am exhausted by this process, and it is again confirmed to me that I HATE the Army.
Bill isn't the first Soldier I knew. My dad was. My dad was also the first disabled veteran I ever knew. In fact, my association with the military started at birth, and was never positive. Always associated with a time of war, I have a Vietnam veteran for a father, and an Iraqi veteran for a husband. For a brief time between ages 16 - 19 military guys were fun. Go to work,come home, look cute in a uniform. I'd trained myself to forget about my dad, the abuse, his horrendous PTSD, and focused on the young, hot guys at different Army and Marine bases. Then 9/11 happened. It wasn't so fun and carefree anymore. People were deploying. I met Bill, and two months later he was gone. Then shortly after that he was in his accident in Baghdad.
Seven years later, I find us nearing the end of a long tunnel, waiting to hear our fate. What will his rating be? If it's too high, will they label him as unable to work in the civilian work force? Will they rob him like they've done these past years and give him less than 30%, then we'll have to deal with all that entails? I don't know. This fight has made us both weary. That said, I don't pray for its quick execution if it isn't done correctly. I will accept what comes to us only if the findings are accurate and fair. Otherwise, somehow, I will muster more fight.
As a lot of people know, Bill was injured in Baghdad in 2005. Not to over-simplify, but while in convoy an Iraqi water truck t-boned their humvee knocking it out of line by approximately 8 feet and briefly knocking the occupants unconscious. They came to, discovered their vehicle was still working, and hustled back to base. That is the moment that has stayed with us to this point, and been with us our entire life as a couple.
The accident happened right at the beginning of an 18 month deployment. They were checked out, released back to duty, but Bill didn't say anything about the injuries that were plaguing him. Numbness, headaches, insomnia... Eventually he was medi-vacced to Germany then back to the states where he waited in the Wounded Warrior program until his unit returned.
Fast forward to 2009 and we're back in WA with Bill doing the OWT program at JBLM. It's supposed to be a 1 year gig with a 1 year extension. At approximately 6 months into it, they informed him they wouldn't allow him a 2nd year. Medical issues from the 2005 accident were becoming aggravated as a result of the daily PT, and they didn't want any broken Soldiers in their command, so they cut him. That's when we started the process for the medical review board (MEB).
Most recently, as he's traveled to San Antonio for the MEB, talked more with the DAV and has finally after years and years worked his way closer to the tail end of the board, we've finally faced the reality that I don't think either of us wanted to recognize or admit. Bill's injuries, such as degenerative disc disorder, traumatic brain injury (from having his head knocked around inside that humvee like a coconut) along with other major issues says one thing: disabled veteran. So much so that the likelihood of him every returning to law enforcement is slim. It's actually probably none, but I say slim to ease that pain. He'll never do firefighting again, and lastly, he'll never be a Soldier again. The Army has said his back does not make him fit for service.
So we wait. We wait for a disability rating of 30% or higher because if it's below 30% he won't be medically retired. After 17+ years of service, if he got a rating of less than 30%, he'd just be put out. I cannot explain the depth of our emotions over all of this. Bill feels as though he's a burden to me and the family. I'm fearful of having a disabled husband and what that will demand of me. I am exhausted by this process, and it is again confirmed to me that I HATE the Army.
Bill isn't the first Soldier I knew. My dad was. My dad was also the first disabled veteran I ever knew. In fact, my association with the military started at birth, and was never positive. Always associated with a time of war, I have a Vietnam veteran for a father, and an Iraqi veteran for a husband. For a brief time between ages 16 - 19 military guys were fun. Go to work,come home, look cute in a uniform. I'd trained myself to forget about my dad, the abuse, his horrendous PTSD, and focused on the young, hot guys at different Army and Marine bases. Then 9/11 happened. It wasn't so fun and carefree anymore. People were deploying. I met Bill, and two months later he was gone. Then shortly after that he was in his accident in Baghdad.
Seven years later, I find us nearing the end of a long tunnel, waiting to hear our fate. What will his rating be? If it's too high, will they label him as unable to work in the civilian work force? Will they rob him like they've done these past years and give him less than 30%, then we'll have to deal with all that entails? I don't know. This fight has made us both weary. That said, I don't pray for its quick execution if it isn't done correctly. I will accept what comes to us only if the findings are accurate and fair. Otherwise, somehow, I will muster more fight.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Laughable
I've fought myself these last several days, debating whether or not to say anything, but the writer in me demands I just come out with it already. I recently discovered a former friend of mine got married. Under normal circumstances it's no biggie; however, this person has apparently managed to meet, date, become engaged and eventually married to a guy within approximately 5 months' time. Fast much? And while I understand my criticism and judgement only affects me, I think given the years we did spend as friends gives me a certain amount of rights to share my thoughts on it. Even if no one else reads this but me.
First, I think of the company she now keeps. The company she replaced me with. Company that she once shared she was jealous of specifically and jealous of the general friendship. Company that she utterly hated and judged for many years, only to become the superficial definition of BFFs and giving each other pet names. Company who's on her third marriage herself, albeit only one of them genuine, the other two contractual and purely for the sake of receiving benefits reserved for the wife of a service member. Be careful the company you keep.
How'd I find out? Well, it wasn't by snooping. It was out of doing a favor for my mother that I unearthed this gem of knowledge. I wonder, when her second marriage ends in divorce, if she'll point all fingers to the ex-husband again. If she'll point to the fact that no one knew her pain, that he really wasn't that great of a guy, that, that, that... I'm exhausted by females who play up the soul mate factor to justify hasty and idiotic decisions only to tear that wall down later to expose the real truth. That they were never happy. That no one knew their plight as his wife. Gag me. I feel more sorry for the male who was married to a fake individual from the get-go.
I also marvel at the fact that mere months ago she was broke, living at home, in debt, sometimes barely able to put gas in her vehicle, to hosting a wedding and vacationing in wine country. Makes me wonder if haste wasn't monetarily motivated. Why not? Catches her up to her peers, or where she thinks her peers are or should be by this age. Puts her back in the 'responsible adult' category of life making her legitimate again as a 30-something. These thoughts by the way are being turned around on her. They are hers. Thoughts she shared with me on why she felt uncomfortable meeting with old friends of ours because she didn't want to discuss life since she was divorced and living with her parents vs. married and living as an independent adult.
If the foundation isn't laid, how can you build upon it? Her dysfunction comes out in relationships. Without nitpicking, the ultimate result in most relationships - parents, friends, ex-husband - is her unwillingness to dig in and work for it. If it becomes uncomfortable for her, she won't address it. Avoidance is her super power. She wrote me off before her first marriage. I found out the reason for the break in our friendship after, when she was broaching divorce, because she needed me again. I may not be the most exciting friend or acquaintance she has, but I'm the most reliable, and most constant. I am the tortoise. She is now, along with her new company, the hare. Flash in the pan, sparkle for a night, one trick pony...hare. An opportunist at best, her fair weather approach to relationships will leave her sad, lonely and regretful. I asked her, right before she pulled the plug on us the first time, if 15 years of friendship meant nothing to her. Her reply was no, it didn't. Keep that in mind, new husband, and re-kindled company. Although, this relationship methodology has become a game well played by said company, so that could quickly become a who-beats-who to the punch type game.
In the meantime I will go on, slowly and unexcitedly, with my life which includes my husband of many years, my sweet 2-year-old baby girl, dogs and whatever children are to come. I'll work my same job, drive my same car, wear my same clothes but one thing has changed. I am no longer the sanity touchstone. When friends go off thinking they can do better, befriend better, they'd better be certain. I am no longer available to them. Ava changed all that. If I spend any time and energy on anyone, it'll be on my family. Friends are second. Always will be. Thanks for the chuckle.
First, I think of the company she now keeps. The company she replaced me with. Company that she once shared she was jealous of specifically and jealous of the general friendship. Company that she utterly hated and judged for many years, only to become the superficial definition of BFFs and giving each other pet names. Company who's on her third marriage herself, albeit only one of them genuine, the other two contractual and purely for the sake of receiving benefits reserved for the wife of a service member. Be careful the company you keep.
How'd I find out? Well, it wasn't by snooping. It was out of doing a favor for my mother that I unearthed this gem of knowledge. I wonder, when her second marriage ends in divorce, if she'll point all fingers to the ex-husband again. If she'll point to the fact that no one knew her pain, that he really wasn't that great of a guy, that, that, that... I'm exhausted by females who play up the soul mate factor to justify hasty and idiotic decisions only to tear that wall down later to expose the real truth. That they were never happy. That no one knew their plight as his wife. Gag me. I feel more sorry for the male who was married to a fake individual from the get-go.
I also marvel at the fact that mere months ago she was broke, living at home, in debt, sometimes barely able to put gas in her vehicle, to hosting a wedding and vacationing in wine country. Makes me wonder if haste wasn't monetarily motivated. Why not? Catches her up to her peers, or where she thinks her peers are or should be by this age. Puts her back in the 'responsible adult' category of life making her legitimate again as a 30-something. These thoughts by the way are being turned around on her. They are hers. Thoughts she shared with me on why she felt uncomfortable meeting with old friends of ours because she didn't want to discuss life since she was divorced and living with her parents vs. married and living as an independent adult.
If the foundation isn't laid, how can you build upon it? Her dysfunction comes out in relationships. Without nitpicking, the ultimate result in most relationships - parents, friends, ex-husband - is her unwillingness to dig in and work for it. If it becomes uncomfortable for her, she won't address it. Avoidance is her super power. She wrote me off before her first marriage. I found out the reason for the break in our friendship after, when she was broaching divorce, because she needed me again. I may not be the most exciting friend or acquaintance she has, but I'm the most reliable, and most constant. I am the tortoise. She is now, along with her new company, the hare. Flash in the pan, sparkle for a night, one trick pony...hare. An opportunist at best, her fair weather approach to relationships will leave her sad, lonely and regretful. I asked her, right before she pulled the plug on us the first time, if 15 years of friendship meant nothing to her. Her reply was no, it didn't. Keep that in mind, new husband, and re-kindled company. Although, this relationship methodology has become a game well played by said company, so that could quickly become a who-beats-who to the punch type game.
In the meantime I will go on, slowly and unexcitedly, with my life which includes my husband of many years, my sweet 2-year-old baby girl, dogs and whatever children are to come. I'll work my same job, drive my same car, wear my same clothes but one thing has changed. I am no longer the sanity touchstone. When friends go off thinking they can do better, befriend better, they'd better be certain. I am no longer available to them. Ava changed all that. If I spend any time and energy on anyone, it'll be on my family. Friends are second. Always will be. Thanks for the chuckle.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Inspired Change
There are many things that can spur change in our lives. Some motivators are more mysterious while others are more obvious. I have recently felt the need to do a financial cleanse on our family's budget. I was frustrated with finances, particularly the amount going out vs. the amount coming in. Since I couldn't affect change on the amount coming in, at least not immediately, I decided to affect change on the amount going out. My first draft on this change was refinancing our truck. Doing so saved us over $200/month. Awesome! Several months passed and I decided more change needed to be made, so I cancelled a superfluous insurance, dropped cable, transferred a credit card balance to a secure line of credit and finally, we traded-in the truck. Before the trade-in, but after the other changes, I think I counted over $550 saved/monthly. WOW! We had that much in unnecessary funds going out?!
Now, the new vehicle raised our payment by $100/month, but not all change has to do with money. It's V6 engine will sip instead of guzzle the gas like our 5.7 liter V8 Hemi engine did, but it's more than that. It is a SUV that fits our family. I researched vehicles for two months, had countless dealers appraise our truck, and finally ended up going with a 2012 Chevrolet Traverse. We were considering a Dodge Durango and a Ford Explorer, but the Explorer was all flash and no function and the Durango was nearly the same. The Traverse is roomy, comfortable and a great value. SUVs are expensive by nature, but with different rebates and incentives plus a pretty good APR on the loan, I feel we got a good deal. Yes, there was negative equity from the truck, but we got the new vehicle for $1000 below invoice. Yeah buddy!
So I'm excited about the new vehicle, obviously, new cars are always fun. So why did I cry when we drove out of the dealership in it? I turned around and looked at the truck as we pulled away and that's what did it. It's a truck. Why. Am. I. Crying? Grr, Kristen. Well, here's why. It was the first vehicle Bill and I ever purchased together. It moved us from Kansas to Washington, and brought home our first child. I took care to customize it some as a gift for Bill after he returned from his last deployment. Other than guzzling gas, which is what she was made to do, she never gave us a fit. I cried because I don't transition well with change, even change I evoked, but also because I felt like we were leaving behind a piece of our family. Yes, I know it's a truck. But she's got 64,000 miles of our life on her. Thanks, girl xo
So now we need to come up with a name for the new truck, which is a Gold Mist Metallic. Color always inspires a name. I want Charlotte because it sounds grown up and sophisticated, like the new vehicle. Bill isn't sure. He suggested Carrie, after my favorite Sex and the City character. I giggle at the fact that we're both thinking of SATC in relation to the vehicle. So I cried driving it the other day. Well, more like just had tears well up in my eyes. Because I looked back at Ava and she had room. She looked so comfortable. I knew if she were to fall asleep she couldn't have to do so nearly upright, but reclined and more relaxed. This change was clearly inspired by and happened because of Him. He new I was trying to make a better life for my family and His grace made it happen. Thank you, Father. Now on to the next 64,000 miles and beyond.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Not Going as Planned...
So my idea was I'd focus more on blogging, less on Facebook. It was a good plan too, except I run into the issue of lack of time, energy or a combination of both. I want to write. As I drive to / from work ideas flood my mind of things to write about, but by the time I find the opportunity to write I can't keep my eyes open long enough to get the first two sentences out. Creativity has officially met parenthood, and parenthood is winning.
Ava loves when I gently lift up her hair and blow on the back of her neck. She was being ornery the other evening during story time so I lifted her hair and began blowing a cool gentle breeze on her warm neck. I focused in on the red stork bite she still has on the nape of her neck, and instantly remembered asking the nurses in the hospital right after I'd had her if that would fade. They guaranteed me it would. So far it has not. My query was more out of curiosity than anything else. Thinking of that moment in time, having my new baby girl, so curious about this brand new life and all her markings, I became overwhelmed and began to cry. Ava turned around and said "it's okay, mom." That dichotomy still gets me; I get lost in my mind over a moment of when she was a newborn only to have the moment flash forward to the reality that she's 2 and is consoling me now when I cry. She's more precious than anything on this earth.
Of course not all moments are Hallmark perfect. Did I mention she's ornery? She's crafty, too. So much so she scares us. We've converted her crib to a toddler bed because despite our attempts to counteract it, she's been crawling out, opening her door and finding us in the house. She's so proud of herself when she succeeds, too. She'll come walking out laughing and say "hi mommy!" She's a total girl, too, and not because of anything we're doing. She's into being a princess. Where'd she get that from? I don't say anything about princesses, and neither does Bill. Yesterday as I put away her laundry she insisted getting into the most frilly dress she saw, matching shoes, and said it was "so pretty," and "I'm a princess!" Yes baby, you are. Not in the way this world will try to condition you to believe though, but in the way your Father in Heaven sees you. You are His princess. I will fight tooth-and-nail against the definition of princess this world has. Entitled, selfish, self-serving. Ava is also into clothes in general. For example, we passed some clothes in a store the other day and she stopped to stroke the item and said to me "oh my gosh, it's so pretty!" What she doesn't know is I'm a sucker, and if she labored on loving it for too long I'd end up buy it for her. Heaven help me - seriously.
So why can I write now? My mom graciously picked Ava up yesterday around noon and kept her overnight. I didn't get near as much done around the house as I wanted, but the reprieve from being a mother for 15 or so hours was an intangible and invaluable gift. Thanks, mom. I feel rested, rejuvenated, and even got to enjoy a date night with Bill last night. I got to spend an evening with my husband that wasn't rushed or timed. It actually felt a little bit like we were dating again. I am blessed that I am in a happy marriage filled with mutual love and appreciation. Ava is blessed that her parents love each other. We are all together blessed for having God in our life who gives us all these things. Life will continue to net us ups and downs, blessings and opportunities to grow. I want to be worthy of all of them. I hope the next blessing we become worthy of is our second child. In His time, right?
Ava loves when I gently lift up her hair and blow on the back of her neck. She was being ornery the other evening during story time so I lifted her hair and began blowing a cool gentle breeze on her warm neck. I focused in on the red stork bite she still has on the nape of her neck, and instantly remembered asking the nurses in the hospital right after I'd had her if that would fade. They guaranteed me it would. So far it has not. My query was more out of curiosity than anything else. Thinking of that moment in time, having my new baby girl, so curious about this brand new life and all her markings, I became overwhelmed and began to cry. Ava turned around and said "it's okay, mom." That dichotomy still gets me; I get lost in my mind over a moment of when she was a newborn only to have the moment flash forward to the reality that she's 2 and is consoling me now when I cry. She's more precious than anything on this earth.
Of course not all moments are Hallmark perfect. Did I mention she's ornery? She's crafty, too. So much so she scares us. We've converted her crib to a toddler bed because despite our attempts to counteract it, she's been crawling out, opening her door and finding us in the house. She's so proud of herself when she succeeds, too. She'll come walking out laughing and say "hi mommy!" She's a total girl, too, and not because of anything we're doing. She's into being a princess. Where'd she get that from? I don't say anything about princesses, and neither does Bill. Yesterday as I put away her laundry she insisted getting into the most frilly dress she saw, matching shoes, and said it was "so pretty," and "I'm a princess!" Yes baby, you are. Not in the way this world will try to condition you to believe though, but in the way your Father in Heaven sees you. You are His princess. I will fight tooth-and-nail against the definition of princess this world has. Entitled, selfish, self-serving. Ava is also into clothes in general. For example, we passed some clothes in a store the other day and she stopped to stroke the item and said to me "oh my gosh, it's so pretty!" What she doesn't know is I'm a sucker, and if she labored on loving it for too long I'd end up buy it for her. Heaven help me - seriously.
So why can I write now? My mom graciously picked Ava up yesterday around noon and kept her overnight. I didn't get near as much done around the house as I wanted, but the reprieve from being a mother for 15 or so hours was an intangible and invaluable gift. Thanks, mom. I feel rested, rejuvenated, and even got to enjoy a date night with Bill last night. I got to spend an evening with my husband that wasn't rushed or timed. It actually felt a little bit like we were dating again. I am blessed that I am in a happy marriage filled with mutual love and appreciation. Ava is blessed that her parents love each other. We are all together blessed for having God in our life who gives us all these things. Life will continue to net us ups and downs, blessings and opportunities to grow. I want to be worthy of all of them. I hope the next blessing we become worthy of is our second child. In His time, right?
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Numbers
So today I popped over to the Gap on my lunch because tomorrow I'm meeting with our CIO and a director who reports to him, along with my boss, to discuss my team and our process flow. This weight loss has me challenged for clothes that fit, not that I'm complaining, so I needed to get some pants that weren't two sizes too big. I grabbed 8s because that is what I've been wearing and haven't lost weight since I got into those, but to my surprise (and slight irritation) they were too big. So I grabbed 6s, and slid into them. Pant after pant. A size 6.
I felt - indifferent. As I initially lost weight I was excited going down size after size, and I am still thrilled to be at a weight and in a size that is both healthy and attractive, but as far as its ranking on my list of most-important-things, it isn't even in the top 10. Quite frankly, other than the health benefits, who cares? Now of course at a size 20 if you told me I'd have this opinion of weight loss and size reduction I'd say you're lying, because being 150-ish and in a size 6 was a dream I never thought I'd achieve back then.
Not that I have ever been wealthy or on the cover of SI, but I've touched on money in my life, an attractive appearance, and those things in and of themselves do not hold happiness. Nor does being married, having children or professional success. There is one thing that brings me true happiness, and that is my relationship with God. Laugh, mock it, whatever your reaction is, but it's true. I heard a country song once that said how people don't like to hear that God is the answer. Like, the answer to anything. Everything. Ask a question, and God is the answer. I may sound insensitive saying that my marriage and children in and of themselves don't hold happiness, but that isn't to say they don't facilitate happiness. I derive an insurmountable amount of love and happiness from my family, specifically Bill and Ava. I believe that I would not be capable of giving and receiving happiness if I weren't first anchored in God and his Son.
What's great about this revelation is it lessens the world's impact and influence on me. I feel less inclined to compete with those around me. It allows me to enjoy vs. endure life. I DO NOT have this down pat. I still get lost in the fog. I still allow myself to see the mirage some days, but even knowing where the key to true, actual happiness lies is enough for me.
I felt - indifferent. As I initially lost weight I was excited going down size after size, and I am still thrilled to be at a weight and in a size that is both healthy and attractive, but as far as its ranking on my list of most-important-things, it isn't even in the top 10. Quite frankly, other than the health benefits, who cares? Now of course at a size 20 if you told me I'd have this opinion of weight loss and size reduction I'd say you're lying, because being 150-ish and in a size 6 was a dream I never thought I'd achieve back then.
Not that I have ever been wealthy or on the cover of SI, but I've touched on money in my life, an attractive appearance, and those things in and of themselves do not hold happiness. Nor does being married, having children or professional success. There is one thing that brings me true happiness, and that is my relationship with God. Laugh, mock it, whatever your reaction is, but it's true. I heard a country song once that said how people don't like to hear that God is the answer. Like, the answer to anything. Everything. Ask a question, and God is the answer. I may sound insensitive saying that my marriage and children in and of themselves don't hold happiness, but that isn't to say they don't facilitate happiness. I derive an insurmountable amount of love and happiness from my family, specifically Bill and Ava. I believe that I would not be capable of giving and receiving happiness if I weren't first anchored in God and his Son.
What's great about this revelation is it lessens the world's impact and influence on me. I feel less inclined to compete with those around me. It allows me to enjoy vs. endure life. I DO NOT have this down pat. I still get lost in the fog. I still allow myself to see the mirage some days, but even knowing where the key to true, actual happiness lies is enough for me.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Where I'm Supposed To Be
There's a lot I appreciate about fellow church members, such as the fellowship they offer outside of official church or church activities. Last night Ava and I went to dinner at the Schott's, a family we'd only ever saw and briefly spoken to at church. They had invited several other families, also people we didn't know very well, but it made no difference. Ava was immediately swooped up by the older children, I was immediately in thoughtful and fun conversation with the adults. Two and a half hours passed in a blink, and by 7:30 I wished we didn't have to go home. As I sat eating the delicious smoked pork that Brother Schott had been smoking since midnight the night before, I had nothing on my mind other than the company and conversation in the room.
Eventually the women and men separated, as they naturally seem to do, and we all sat around the kitchen table talking about kids and pregnancy as two of the women were pregnant. As we sat talking a thought apart from the conversation entered my mind, and it was the thought of "this is where you belong." And I don't mean specifically at the Schott home, though it was so warm and beautifully decorated (I wished my home looked like hers) that I would've almost liked to move in, but with other Saints. When I am around these families the mothers are suddenly universal mothers - no matter the child, if they're the one able to render assistance, care or love then they do. For example, Ava sneezed and one of the kids immediately pointed out that she needed a tissue. Before I could even position myself to get up from the deeply reclined chair on their back porch another mother who was closer to Ava went over, knelt down, and wiped her nose. I'm alone on evening outings most the time because Bill works second shift, so to have other adults there to help without me having to ask is so valuable and cherished by me.
Another thing I enjoy about being around other Saints is if the Spirit speaks to me, I feel safe to listen. And not only do I feel safe to hear the Spirit, but when I'm in a good environment the Spirit is more likely to whisper to me, too. That's why I had the thought come into my mind that the Schott home that evening, with those Saints, was where I was supposed to be. It was such an uplifting environment. My daughter was around other kids raised with the same values so I'm less likely to have to worry about any of them suggesting ill speech or action. Notice I say "less likely," Saints are Saints, sure, but we're also human. Heaven knows the phases I went through, and all the mistakes I still make today. The adults bring out the better traits in me, which I of course love. I hope that the more I'm in environments there my better traits are allowed to shine the more they'll shrink out the less desirable traits I posses.
Eventually the women and men separated, as they naturally seem to do, and we all sat around the kitchen table talking about kids and pregnancy as two of the women were pregnant. As we sat talking a thought apart from the conversation entered my mind, and it was the thought of "this is where you belong." And I don't mean specifically at the Schott home, though it was so warm and beautifully decorated (I wished my home looked like hers) that I would've almost liked to move in, but with other Saints. When I am around these families the mothers are suddenly universal mothers - no matter the child, if they're the one able to render assistance, care or love then they do. For example, Ava sneezed and one of the kids immediately pointed out that she needed a tissue. Before I could even position myself to get up from the deeply reclined chair on their back porch another mother who was closer to Ava went over, knelt down, and wiped her nose. I'm alone on evening outings most the time because Bill works second shift, so to have other adults there to help without me having to ask is so valuable and cherished by me.
Another thing I enjoy about being around other Saints is if the Spirit speaks to me, I feel safe to listen. And not only do I feel safe to hear the Spirit, but when I'm in a good environment the Spirit is more likely to whisper to me, too. That's why I had the thought come into my mind that the Schott home that evening, with those Saints, was where I was supposed to be. It was such an uplifting environment. My daughter was around other kids raised with the same values so I'm less likely to have to worry about any of them suggesting ill speech or action. Notice I say "less likely," Saints are Saints, sure, but we're also human. Heaven knows the phases I went through, and all the mistakes I still make today. The adults bring out the better traits in me, which I of course love. I hope that the more I'm in environments there my better traits are allowed to shine the more they'll shrink out the less desirable traits I posses.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large -- I contain multitudes.”
― Walt Whitman
I've heard this quote before, but forgot about it until I found it online today. Walt, you nailed it. When I was younger I had no inkling that as an adult, as you branch out into life, that each limb pulls at the trunk. Of course in this metaphor the trunk is my person and the limbs are that of mother, wife, daughter, employee, pet owner, self-desire, wants, needs - the list is endless. In our front yard we have an enormous tree that I love to watch when the wind blows. Left. Right. Front. Back. Sway here, sway there. The trunk doesn't move of course, it's rooted firmly in the ground. No matter which direction it gets pulled or pushed, it's still a tree. Whether it goes right one moment and left the next doesn't mean it's confused about being a tree. It's just - a tree. And I am just me. I may get wild on a girl's night (unfortunately not anytime even remotely recently) one night, and read the "mama cat" book as Ava calls it three times in a row the next night. Does that mean I'm confused about who I am? No. I have a plethora of roles I play, and they are all me. What confuses me is when I'm asked "well are you X or are you Y?" or "Do you want this or do you want that?" The answer is I am X and Y, and I want it all.
― Walt Whitman
I've heard this quote before, but forgot about it until I found it online today. Walt, you nailed it. When I was younger I had no inkling that as an adult, as you branch out into life, that each limb pulls at the trunk. Of course in this metaphor the trunk is my person and the limbs are that of mother, wife, daughter, employee, pet owner, self-desire, wants, needs - the list is endless. In our front yard we have an enormous tree that I love to watch when the wind blows. Left. Right. Front. Back. Sway here, sway there. The trunk doesn't move of course, it's rooted firmly in the ground. No matter which direction it gets pulled or pushed, it's still a tree. Whether it goes right one moment and left the next doesn't mean it's confused about being a tree. It's just - a tree. And I am just me. I may get wild on a girl's night (unfortunately not anytime even remotely recently) one night, and read the "mama cat" book as Ava calls it three times in a row the next night. Does that mean I'm confused about who I am? No. I have a plethora of roles I play, and they are all me. What confuses me is when I'm asked "well are you X or are you Y?" or "Do you want this or do you want that?" The answer is I am X and Y, and I want it all.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Ava's 2!
I am so tired from today, but in a most excellent way. Our baby girl is 2-years-old! While today is her actual birthday, we've been celebrating all weekend. A lot of things had me reconsider a "friend" party, so we went with family only and boy was it awesome, truly. Saturday we went to Elise & Ralph's where we celebrated with a yummy ice cream cake and pizza. Cousins each gave Ava a gift, something of theirs that was special to them, so it was a really big deal kid-to-kid. Elise's kids still think of Ava as a "baby," so they want to take turns holding her. It's cute, but Ava sometimes gets fed up with it and finally yells "no! down!"
Sunday Grandma and Grandpa Humphrey came to church with us, then over to the house after where we had spaghetti dinner and a homemade cake courtesy of mommy. I'm not a baker, but it was yummy regardless. Thanks Betty Crocker! That night, after much play and sugar, sweet Ava girl passed out in our bed during story time. I was especially excited for her actual birthday because I'd taken the day off of work to be with her. It was so fun! In the morning Bill & I took her to breakfast, then home for a nap, then off to meet Elise and the twins for a birthday pedicure. Being the only boy, Zavier was content to play games on Elise's phone, but Azure got her nails painted with sparkles, Elise and I enjoyed our pedicures and Ava got her toe nails painted pink with sparkles on top. I can't believe how still she sat for it! Afterward we visited Bill at work, where she showed off her toes some more, then we headed home.
After dinner we took cupcakes to a family in our ward and while we were out we got a call from our next door neighbor letting us know to come over when we got back. Our neighbors had a card for her with a gift card to Toys R Us inside. So generous! Finally the day had drawn to an end, so we read stories and had our usual mommy-daughter cuddle time. Lying with her during cuddle time I felt little fingers crawling up my arm. I asked "Ava, is that a spider?" She giggled with delight and said "Yes!" Such a silly girl. She won't know until she has her own kids, just as I didn't get it until I was a mother, but celebrating her is in fact a gift to me. I have just watched her smile, laugh, focus, sleep, etc. these past few days and I revel in her happiness, delight, curiosity and excitement.
Happy birthday, Ava xoxo
Sunday Grandma and Grandpa Humphrey came to church with us, then over to the house after where we had spaghetti dinner and a homemade cake courtesy of mommy. I'm not a baker, but it was yummy regardless. Thanks Betty Crocker! That night, after much play and sugar, sweet Ava girl passed out in our bed during story time. I was especially excited for her actual birthday because I'd taken the day off of work to be with her. It was so fun! In the morning Bill & I took her to breakfast, then home for a nap, then off to meet Elise and the twins for a birthday pedicure. Being the only boy, Zavier was content to play games on Elise's phone, but Azure got her nails painted with sparkles, Elise and I enjoyed our pedicures and Ava got her toe nails painted pink with sparkles on top. I can't believe how still she sat for it! Afterward we visited Bill at work, where she showed off her toes some more, then we headed home.
After dinner we took cupcakes to a family in our ward and while we were out we got a call from our next door neighbor letting us know to come over when we got back. Our neighbors had a card for her with a gift card to Toys R Us inside. So generous! Finally the day had drawn to an end, so we read stories and had our usual mommy-daughter cuddle time. Lying with her during cuddle time I felt little fingers crawling up my arm. I asked "Ava, is that a spider?" She giggled with delight and said "Yes!" Such a silly girl. She won't know until she has her own kids, just as I didn't get it until I was a mother, but celebrating her is in fact a gift to me. I have just watched her smile, laugh, focus, sleep, etc. these past few days and I revel in her happiness, delight, curiosity and excitement.
Happy birthday, Ava xoxo
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Michelle Obama dazzles in sequins at Governors Dinner
Michelle Obama dazzles in sequins at Governors Dinner
This dress is magnificent! I want her whole wardrobe, seriously (does it come with her arms?)!
This dress is magnificent! I want her whole wardrobe, seriously (does it come with her arms?)!
10 Things Never to Say to a Working Mom
10 Things Never to Say to a Working Mom
I've heard numbers 5 and 10. There's another article that is on the flip side of this for at-home moms. Why are we always pitted against each other? I respect a mother who doesn't work outside the home and hope she respects me. It's about meeting your family's needs, doing what you have to do to care for your family, and while I miss Ava terribly while I'm gone, I'm not emotionally distressed over it because I know I'm away for good and worthy reasons. I'm not away because I want to go to the bars, go hang out with my girlfriends over being a mother, etc. I'm doing it to help care for her. Bill and I even take it a step further to ensure 90% of the time one of us is with her, that's why we work opposite shifts. She's watched by a woman from church two days a week for 2.5 hours each day. I am however, a mother first, and everything else is second. My job will always come second. My friends will always come (a distant) second. My social life (what's that?) will come second, and so on...
I've heard numbers 5 and 10. There's another article that is on the flip side of this for at-home moms. Why are we always pitted against each other? I respect a mother who doesn't work outside the home and hope she respects me. It's about meeting your family's needs, doing what you have to do to care for your family, and while I miss Ava terribly while I'm gone, I'm not emotionally distressed over it because I know I'm away for good and worthy reasons. I'm not away because I want to go to the bars, go hang out with my girlfriends over being a mother, etc. I'm doing it to help care for her. Bill and I even take it a step further to ensure 90% of the time one of us is with her, that's why we work opposite shifts. She's watched by a woman from church two days a week for 2.5 hours each day. I am however, a mother first, and everything else is second. My job will always come second. My friends will always come (a distant) second. My social life (what's that?) will come second, and so on...
Friday, February 24, 2012
Deleted by your friends? That’s life on Facebook now
Deleted by your friends? That’s life on Facebook now
What I personally like about FB is how highly customizable it is. For example, there are certain people who I have unsuscribed from which keeps their photos, updates, etc. out of my news feed. I've also created a customized setting where only certain people see my updates and photos.
What I personally like about FB is how highly customizable it is. For example, there are certain people who I have unsuscribed from which keeps their photos, updates, etc. out of my news feed. I've also created a customized setting where only certain people see my updates and photos.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Police buy cemetery plots to block Josh Powell from being buried next to his boys
Police buy cemetery plots to block Josh Powell from being buried next to his boys
Like many, I've followed this story close since Susan Powell's disappearance. The ending was more sadistic, more evil than any of us could have ever thought possible. The question I keep returning to is "why?" WHY! But because a normal, healthy mind most times cannot process the actions of a sick mind, I do the same thing as when I hear of horrific treatment towards animals. Ava gets one more kiss (is that even possible) before bed. The dogs get an extra treat. Bill gets hugged a little tighter. The fixer in me has to be put to sleep, and instead I have to just focus on what I have control over. Me, and how I treat my beloved family. I am so touched to hear that Pierce County officers purchased plots next to the Powell boys' so their murderer cannot rest near them. 1*
Like many, I've followed this story close since Susan Powell's disappearance. The ending was more sadistic, more evil than any of us could have ever thought possible. The question I keep returning to is "why?" WHY! But because a normal, healthy mind most times cannot process the actions of a sick mind, I do the same thing as when I hear of horrific treatment towards animals. Ava gets one more kiss (is that even possible) before bed. The dogs get an extra treat. Bill gets hugged a little tighter. The fixer in me has to be put to sleep, and instead I have to just focus on what I have control over. Me, and how I treat my beloved family. I am so touched to hear that Pierce County officers purchased plots next to the Powell boys' so their murderer cannot rest near them. 1*
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
Dad punishes Facebook post with 8 bullets to daughter’s laptop
Dad punishes Facebook post with 8 bullets to daughter’s laptop
I don't know if I'd use some of the exact verbiage he did, but the same message would apply. If I had my rathers, my kids wouldn't be on social networking sites until they're old enough to vote. There's no reason for them to be! But they'd certainly seal their own fate if they posted a message about Bill and I like this. Twice, no less.
I don't know if I'd use some of the exact verbiage he did, but the same message would apply. If I had my rathers, my kids wouldn't be on social networking sites until they're old enough to vote. There's no reason for them to be! But they'd certainly seal their own fate if they posted a message about Bill and I like this. Twice, no less.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Articles
My objective with the articles I post isn't just to post them for posting sake, but to comment on them and how I feel they relate to my life. Thing is I don't seem to have the time to do that until the weekends. Busy! Busy!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Foosebook
I'm addicted to Facebook (a.k.a. Foosebook). I am, and admitting that is the first step in recovery. I have a love/hate relationship with the Book of Face, as I've heard some friends call it. Smart phones, specifically my iPhone, have fueled my relationship with the site. Subsequently I also have a love/hate relationship with it, too. There are days I am tempted to go off the grid, but we'll save that for another post. Thanks to the society of instant gratification that we live in, I was probably checking FB 6-10 times a day. WHY? Because I could. Because it was there. One tap of my fingertip to the smooth face of my smart phone and there I was again, peering into the lives of whoever posted what they wanted people to read. My visits were never long, but they were most definitely frequent. If that were all there was to it, I guess it would be fine. Except things are rarely that simple. When you tap an app on your phone 6-10 times a day it begins cutting into your time at work, the attention you pay your family and pets, you become less of a considerate driver. The site was getting time that I didn't even have to give.
As most people do in the new year, I made a resolution. I will check FB one time a day M-Sa, not at all on Su. I've done well with not at all on Sunday, but ironically I struggle with the once daily M-Sa. Again, things rarely being simple, this resolution ties in with my recovering spirituality. To be blunt, the Spirit has prompted me to rid my life of the superfluous. The unnecessary things that have made their way into my everyday life were distracting from, ARE distracting from, my potential as a human being on this earth. And what potential am I speaking of? Family. Relationships. I wish to give those who mean the most to me, the most of me. And how can I do that when what's competing for my time is social networking sites, rag magazines, gossip sites, etc.? So I will make Facebook what I want it to be. A medium to keep family and close friends updated with pictures and information relative to our family. I will use it to keep up with them. I will check it once M-Sa and not at all on Su.
So why blog, some may ask. Well, I'm no Hemingway, but I am a writer. I've written my name on my mother's walls, I've written my own books so I could read them to myself as a child, and today I write as a part of my job. I have to write. I don't know how else to release what's in my head. Some sing, some dance, some take photographs or paint. I write. For years I wrote in journals, and have several finished ones lying around, but despite buying a pretty journal this last time, a pretty book mark, special pens, I have been horrible about writing in it. Losing my writing mojo couldn't have happened at a worst time, either. I have this amazing 2-year-old angel that a few quips in a FB status update just can't cover. For example, for Christmas Ava got some stickers. For anyone who knows where a 2-year-old is developmentally, you know they're into identifying body parts (E.g. bum-bum, eyes, nose, hair, etc.) and so it was no surprise when she put a sticker on Jovi's nub (a.k.a. tail) and says "bum-bum!" Chuckling, I said "yes Ava, you put a sticker on Jovi's bum-bum. Can you put a sticker on Reese's bum-bum, too?" OK people keep in mind that while I know she knows what a bum-bum is, since she had just identified Jovi's bum-bum as his tail I naively assumed she'd do the same with Reese. Wrong! That girl dropped to her knees with a sticker behind Reese and placed it squarely on her rectum. What's worse - it stuck! "Bum-bum!" Yes Ava, bum-bum indeed. Insert heavy sigh, half-grin and eye roll here.
To that end, no pun intended (sorta), it is here that I will be recording everything from my thoughts to the day's events to whatever life rolls out before us. I will not filter myself on here like I do Foosebook. Consider yourself warned. As I find time I plan to redesign the layout, update pictures and more. Stay tuned!
As most people do in the new year, I made a resolution. I will check FB one time a day M-Sa, not at all on Su. I've done well with not at all on Sunday, but ironically I struggle with the once daily M-Sa. Again, things rarely being simple, this resolution ties in with my recovering spirituality. To be blunt, the Spirit has prompted me to rid my life of the superfluous. The unnecessary things that have made their way into my everyday life were distracting from, ARE distracting from, my potential as a human being on this earth. And what potential am I speaking of? Family. Relationships. I wish to give those who mean the most to me, the most of me. And how can I do that when what's competing for my time is social networking sites, rag magazines, gossip sites, etc.? So I will make Facebook what I want it to be. A medium to keep family and close friends updated with pictures and information relative to our family. I will use it to keep up with them. I will check it once M-Sa and not at all on Su.
So why blog, some may ask. Well, I'm no Hemingway, but I am a writer. I've written my name on my mother's walls, I've written my own books so I could read them to myself as a child, and today I write as a part of my job. I have to write. I don't know how else to release what's in my head. Some sing, some dance, some take photographs or paint. I write. For years I wrote in journals, and have several finished ones lying around, but despite buying a pretty journal this last time, a pretty book mark, special pens, I have been horrible about writing in it. Losing my writing mojo couldn't have happened at a worst time, either. I have this amazing 2-year-old angel that a few quips in a FB status update just can't cover. For example, for Christmas Ava got some stickers. For anyone who knows where a 2-year-old is developmentally, you know they're into identifying body parts (E.g. bum-bum, eyes, nose, hair, etc.) and so it was no surprise when she put a sticker on Jovi's nub (a.k.a. tail) and says "bum-bum!" Chuckling, I said "yes Ava, you put a sticker on Jovi's bum-bum. Can you put a sticker on Reese's bum-bum, too?" OK people keep in mind that while I know she knows what a bum-bum is, since she had just identified Jovi's bum-bum as his tail I naively assumed she'd do the same with Reese. Wrong! That girl dropped to her knees with a sticker behind Reese and placed it squarely on her rectum. What's worse - it stuck! "Bum-bum!" Yes Ava, bum-bum indeed. Insert heavy sigh, half-grin and eye roll here.
To that end, no pun intended (sorta), it is here that I will be recording everything from my thoughts to the day's events to whatever life rolls out before us. I will not filter myself on here like I do Foosebook. Consider yourself warned. As I find time I plan to redesign the layout, update pictures and more. Stay tuned!
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