I know, I'm a beast....

No, this is not my freezer. Hopefully soon, but not now. If we had to live off the contents of the freezer in my basement we would be eating strawberry freezer jam, IKEA meatballs, frozen chicken breasts and little else.

Once upon a time I had a freezer stocked full of meals and loaves of homemade bread. Once upon a time I clipped coupons, shopped sales, had a great little food storage set-up and loved menu planning. Once upon a time I only had two kids...(Motherhood is hard work regardless of how many kids you have. All I am saying was #3 and #4 sent me for a loop and it's taken awhile to recover from the sheer workload that each new child brings.)

Anyhoot, Devyn is getting a little older and Lauryn is more independent and life is settling into a groove that feels manageable. Busy still, but manageable. I decided I should start trying to get back into the swing of things and try to reclaim some of my former self. So I got on Pinterest looking for some good recipes and stuff for freezer and slow cooker meals. I came across some sites that looked good; but the cutesy, perfect Mom/cook/blogger persona on the sites got so nauseating after awhile. For instance....

"I chopped all my vegetables while precious, wonderful, perfectly behaved, little Janie sat in her really expensive learning toy next to me and we took time to talk about all the colors and textures of the vegetables...blah, blah, blah....Then I put all my ingredients (that were all organic, because organic is so great and the only way to go!)...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah....Don't forget about how lethal BPA is....blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...I stacked all of the meals the same way I did with my frozen breast milk (because breast milk is the most wonderful nectar we could ever give our wonderful children)....blah, blah, blah...I labeled my freezer meals with the cutest, most-wonderful, custom designed (by me of course!) labels...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...."

You get the idea.

I'm thinking "Lady just shut up and give me the recipe. I don't care to read on as you pontificate about all this other peripheral crap." It was like bumper stickers for me. (I detest bumper stickers.) You're driving along, you see five million bumper stickers on the back of some car/van/truck summarizing their every like/dislike/activity/vacation destination/family member, etc... I don't need to know all that. I'm a random stranger. Why do they care for me to see all that? They know where they've been, what they do, who is in their family, etc. Why the need to advertise to people they don't even know? I just want to drive down the road without getting the lowdown on your whole life...

Again, I digress.

The point is, here I was just looking for a simple recipe and instead had to wade through this lady's commentary on every little thing. Enough already! I like organic stuff too, but I don't announce it from the rooftops so I can seem so cool and with it. I breastfed my kids too, all four of them. But I don't gain some sense of fulfillment by making sure everyone knows about it. And no, I don't croon colors and stuff with my kids as I cook. Mostly I ask them to get off my leg so I don't trip with a knife in my hand and kill both of us in one fell swoop.

I know, I'm a beast. But seriously, get real people.

Usually I work Friday mornings, but I had today off because our office is moving locations this week and we aren't seeing patients. So I carpe diem-ed by going to a morning pilates class with my friend Laura that I otherwise would usually miss. This class is no joke....at one point I found myself mentally comparing the strain to childbirth. Yeah... it's good. To negate any and all goodness we may have just achieved, (or to placate my bruised self-esteem after watching ladies 20 years older than me kick my butt...) we took the kids to breakfast, with our friend Kristy, at Chick-fil-A where I promptly polished off the equivalent of two, yes count them two, Chicken Biscuits, slathered in strawberry jam accompanied by a nice tall orange juice. I've decided this is the reason why I evade a regular exercise routine...because I eat like a beast when I do!

School Choice

An Associated Press photographer took this picture of Maryn and it was featured as Good Morning America's Photo of the Day. Pretty cool if you ask me!

This morning I had the opportunity to attend the School Choice Rally at the Georgia State Capitol. It was the first ever rally of any kind I have ever attended and it was such a great experience.

We were so grateful for the blue skies we got after so much soggy rain lately!

I am not a very politically minded individual. (I know, I should be better informed, but raising four kids...some things get put on the back burner.) But education and specifically my children's education is something that is very important to me.

Our friends, Asa and Ivy Speidel, Maryn, Brynna and Brynnie's buddy Olivia

Which is why Maryn, Brynna, our friends the Speidel's and I made the trek to downtown Atlanta today; to let politicians in the state of Georgia know that we, as parents, want to be able to choose what we feel is the right educational fit for our children.

Maryn and Brynna attend a charter school, so it is important to me to protect our right to be able to continue with a charter school education. In our area the public schools are actually pretty good (although that is not the case elsewhere in Atlanta.) I have many friends near us who are very pleased with their public school experience and some who are not. I also have a handful of friends that Homeschool. I love that despite our different opinions, needs or expectations, each one of us has had the freedom to choose what we deem to be the right environment for our children. To me that is something worth protecting and worth speaking out for.

Brynna and Olivia, those two are just a hoot together! I love the silly looks they get on their faces!

If you haven't watched the documentary 'Waiting for Superman', put it in your Netflix queue and watch it. (Watch the trailer here.) It really resonated with me because growing up I didn't realize there were or should be choices. I did have a handful of good teachers, but overall I was grouped in with a herd of teachers who really didn't care. I didn't realize then that I shouldn't have to settle for that. I didn't realize that I had potential that no one was willing to see or nurture.

I had a great teacher, Mrs. Minor, in the 5th grade who was thoughtful and really helped encourage my strong suits. But it wasn't until my Senior year in high school that I again encountered a teacher who made a difference in my life. A teacher who saw something in me and went out of her way to tell me so. She was Mrs. Schmidt, my Dental Assisting instructor at a vocational school I was attending in addition to my regular high school. (I was receiving dual credits.) I was so sick of being overlooked at my high school. So sick of no one caring. Then out of nowhere, Valerie Schmidt noticed me and made a difference.

This choir of kids from a local Atlanta academy were simply amazing. Their voices were so moving and I was privileged enough to be standing right next to them!

That vocational program was a godsend for me. It got me out of my crappy high school for half of the day and put me in an environment where I flourished. I was actually challenged and learning new things as opposed to being disregarded by teachers who were happy to read a newspaper rather than instruct. Most importantly though for the first time in a long time I felt valued and encouraged. In retrospect I am so thankful that I had that choice. To leave the school that wasn't working and find something better for me. I had beat myself up for many years after graduation for only having a vocational education. However, recently Justin showed me a Congressional testimony that Mike Rowe gave on vocational occupations that really changed my thoughts on my perceived inadequacies in my vocational education.

The bottom line is, I want my girls to do or be whatever they want to. Whether it's a lawyer, a doctor, a journalist, an artist, or even a dental assistant. I want for them if their desire is to go to college, for there never to be a question of that being supported. If they choose a vocational education, I hope they will know it was by choice because it fulfills them and not because they were made to feel they weren't good enough or prepared enough for other options. I want them to do what makes them happy. I want them to feel the stream of encouraging support throughout their entire educational journey. Not just in brief patches here and there. I want them in a place that holds teachers accountable. I want them in a place that is only open as long as it is producing good results in the lives of it's students. I want to have the peace of mind as their mother in knowing that I did everything I could to give them the tools necessary to achieve their ambitions and that is why I rallied today to have a CHOICE.

Watch local news coverage of the event here. I was caught hootin' and hollerin' in the crowd in one of the shots!

Dress Dilemma

Okay, so I bought this dress last summer when I was scouring the earth looking for something to wear to my brother-in-law, Kevin's, wedding. One may think that's not such a hard endeavor. But when you are a committed Mormon gal like me, you take the modesty factor of clothes into consideration in a stricter way than some might. While it doesn't mean you'll ever find me shuffling around in a prairie dress with a bonnet on my head, it does mean I keep my dresses and shorts to the knee and keep my shoulders, back and boobs covered. Next time you go special occasion shopping check out your options, you'll realize that is not always the easiest task!

Anyhoot, so I bought this dress for back-up in case I could just not find anything in the color scheme my sis-in-law, Missy, was shooting for, which was pinks and neutrals mostly. The dress wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I liked it and I was seriously running out of options. It was one of those situations where there were only a couple left and they wouldn't be getting any more in stock before the wedding, kind of deals. So even though the designer did not accept returns, I bit the bullet and bought it for fear of attending the wedding in a potato sack as my only other alternative.

I ended up finding a simple, cream dress that I thought worked better with the feel my sis-in-law Missy was going for...

The whole, big extended Young Crew! Kevin and Missy's wedding was beautiful!

See what I mean? A dove grey dress wouldn't have blended in as well...

The point is, I now had this grey dress that I couldn't return but discovered once I tried it on that it fit...but not exactly how I expected. It fit me more like this gal in the picture below than how it did on the Twilight chick in the first picture, where it just seemed like a nice, tailored dress. It's not just tailored folks, this dress hugs every curve!

Justin loves the dress, thinks it's smokin' hot, BUT here's where my dilemma comes in...is it too form-fitting to be considered modest? Sure, it's covering all the essential body parts, but I don't know... It cost a pretty-penny and so I would like to wear it, but it has been sitting on a hanger in my closet lonely and unused because I am just not sure. The only time I really wear dresses is to church and I don't really think having every outline of my derierre perfectly caressed would be very appropriate for worship. So the question now is, what the heck am I going to do with it?! Sigh.

I'm overthinking this...

I am ashamed to admit it, since I am at a place in my life where I am more comfortable than I have ever been in my own skin, head and heart. However, I still find myself not writing things down when I feel like it because I am afraid I am going to come off a 'certain way'. It's dumb I know and I need to get over it. I need to accept the fact that I am a work in progress, that I am never going to do or say all the right things and that the people who love me, love me quirks and all.

So if you read this and you think "Man, that Sarah....(insert observance or annoyance)" and you find yourself forming opinions of the one-dimensional character that emerges from whatever I write on any given day, then quit reading this blog. I speak from experience on this. I have gotten annoyed at times at whatever one side of the story I was receiving in other people's lives and I just had to say to myself "Cut it out Sarah. This is just one facet of their life. Don't think you have it all figured out." In a moment of insecurity I recently thought "I should just go completely private and then write what I want and know someday my kids will get it because they get me." But then I realized I need to quit being a weirdo and just be me. Say what I think and write what I would say.

So onward folks. I am going to stop doing what I am best at, overthinking stupid things.

One would think that raising girls would keep me from the tittering joys of bathroom talk that people expect with a passel of boys. Not so. The girls are huddled around the breakfast table in the next room saying "Poopface!!" and then erupting into giggles. Kids....

Morning Tantrum

This morning Brynna came stomping into my bathroom in her uniform pants, upset that I had made her change out of her skort because it was dirty. (A little background, Brynna hates wearing the uniform pants, she only likes the skorts. But she had already worn her skorts for the week and pants were the only clean options left.) She scowled at me and said “You know what hate about my school….”

I cut her off there. Maybe it was rude, but I was in no mood for ungrateful tantrums. I said “Brynna, I am not really interested in listening to a tirade of what you hate.

Do you want to know that there are still little girls in this world who don’t even get to go to school, because their society says they are not worth it.

There are little girls who will never learn how to read because there are people that see no value in educating a girl.

There are little girls who have no say in what they do, who they marry, or what they become.

YOU are a girl born in America. YOU are a girl who is not told if she gets to learn, but you are a girl who gets to decide if you will choose to learn. YOU get to choose to be whatever you can dream or imagine and you live in a place where if you work hard enough you can make that happen. YOU get to choose the man who you will marry someday. YOU get to choose what you will do with your life. YOU live in a time in history and in a society where your thoughts as a girl are valued and matter.

If you want to waste your time pouting and crying about the fact that you didn’t get to choose your skirt today then shame on you for having such an ungrateful attitude. YOU have every choice that really matters in life, Brynna. Be grateful and quit whining.”

Maybe I was a bit heavy on her, but dang it I won't have my kids growing up like so many spoiled brats out there who's parents soothe and appease their every whim and demand in life if they cry loud enough or scowl long enough. I love my kids with all my heart and the last thing I want them suffering from in life is an ungrateful heart. I hope my kids know that I expect them to do and be their best not because I am a battle axe, stick-in-the-mud, but because I love them and want to help them be the people they were sent to this earth to be.

I hope they always know that I think that they are smart, kind, talented and beautiful. I hope they know that I am always here to assist them in all that they do. I hope that when they doubt themselves they will know they were raised to push past that doubt. I hope they will know that they are Young's and because of that they can do hard things and need to strive to have grateful hearts.

I hope in the long run a little sternness will be interpreted for what it really is...a heavy dose of love.

Growing up...

When Maryn and Brynna were little we used to watch "America's Funniest Videos" almost every night together as a family. We loved it, but then the routine got dropped for some reason. A few nights ago we re-discovered it on Netflix. This time though with two more kids who are now the same ages Maryn and Brynna were when we were last regulars to the show. It was so cute seeing my Little Women lined up on the couch; snuggling, laughing, yelling at the screen and when it was all done re-enacting their favorite clips.

Devyn has officially become one of the big girls. Which really blows my mind because it seems like even in the last week she has grown leaps and bounds. It makes me wonder what one more week might bring! She got the jokes, jumped in on the wrestling match and huskily marched around the room yelling, laughing at everything and pulling crazy, cute grins. Tonight we asked Brynna to call Maryn and Lauryn down for dinner. Instead Devyn marched to the bottom of the stairs and hollered "Maaaaayn, Yahhhh, iiiinnnn!!" ("Maryn, Lauryn dinner!") with perfect inflection. Justin and I traded glances as if to say "When the heck did she start talking?!"

It's so weird how our family is growing up. When you are in the thick of your labor-intensive years of raising small children you think it is never going to end. You think it will last forever. But lately I have seen small glimpses of new phases on the horizon. It's exciting and sad at the same time. Maryn told me the other day "Mom, I don't really want to grow up....but I do feel like I am becoming a young lady." I had to stifle a chuckle at her choice of words because she was so serious. But hey, if they have to grow up I'll accept their goal of becoming young ladies!

I know I can't stop the steady hand of time, ever progressing forward. Some days it makes me a little sad to know that our time as parents of young children won't be around forever. But seeing how the girls have grown already, and seeing how proud they make me to be their mom, I find peace in knowing that whatever phase of life we are in, it will be fulfilling as long as we are all together.

If you don't have anything nice to say...

...don't say anything at all, right?

But I just.can't.resist!!

I posted this to my Facebook status tonight and immediately deleted it for fear of offending some people on my friend's list who could benefit from this advice....

I get annoyed by people who refuse to grow up. If you have graduated from high school, that means it's time to stop acting like you are still 16 and let life change you in good ways. Put your boobs back in your shirt, quit taking five million posey pictures of yourself and go be a productive human being who grasps that there is a universe beyond the end of your cute, little nose. Sorry I just had to get that off my chest.

Truthfully, even if my 16-year-old acted the way some of these full grown adults act I would be embarrassed. When did it become "hot" to dress like a hooker, drink like a sailor, and be so self-absorbed that your greatest joy in life is capturing new and seductive poses of yourself?

Why would you want to seduce the entire Facebook population anyway? Doesn't that just scream "I don't think enough of myself, so I have to try and sell my sexuality and attractiveness to other people so I can be validated by a complete array of random people in my life."?

It's weird to me.

I have nothing against sexy. Sexy is good. For the right audience. Particularly the one you actually share a bed with. Grandma doesn't need to see your sex kitten. Random friend from high school doesn't need to see you getting your 30-year-old self sloshed pressed up like a lesbo against your best friend. Cousin doesn't need to see you pose with furry, kitty cat ears and that ridiculous kissy-face people make that they think makes them look "SOOOOO HAWT!!!"

Even at Costco today some chick was shopping with her boyfriend/husband and baby who had the most ENORMOUS boobs I have ever seen popping out of her tiny, spaghetti-strap tank. We are talking about unprecedented levels of cleavage here people. At least from what I have seen publicly displayed. Think longer than a butt crack... and this chick was tiny. So ridiculously unproportionate... but that's another story. Back to the point. Her husband/boyfriend apparently loved the boobage. So much so that he proudly displayed her in a seductive, ample-bosomed pose tattooed on his bicep....as they are grocery shopping with their baby.

Because nothing turns me on like shopping for toilet paper with my kid in tow. Gotta see/expose every inch possible of those sweet ta-ta's as I buy ketchup and frozen chicken. Right?!

Am I the only one that thinks this is weird? Am I the only one that thinks their grandkids are going to be seriously grossed out by grandma being preserved in ink in all her sexual glory on grandpa's arm? Am I the only one who thinks if sex kitten is out all the time, what makes it exciting when it's actually time to get down to business?

I could go on, but the moral of the story and my rant is...get your sexy on people. Just don't subject the general population to it. And also don't let it define you. Don't let the only thing you have to offer be a kissy-face and arm-length self-portrait. Because it's so played out it doesn't really impress anyone anymore. All it accomplishes is making you look like a desperate, self-absorbed fool. And really, who finds that attractive?

Rant over.

I'm baaaaaack!!

Happy January 1st everyone!! I really am excited to hop back in the blogging saddle again. I'm not saying that I even have anything interesting to say; but like completing my Project 365 yesterday on the last day of 2011, I know the act of being better about journaling is something that will be so worth it when I look back on it. I am excited to be better about documenting all that lies ahead of The Young Crew in 2012!