"O Remember, Remember"

                     
                                          
  I can only hope to be as consistent as President Eyring in recording those tender mercies that Heavenly Father blesses our family with each day. Lately though my mind has been full of them. I knew that they needed to be recorded somewhere besides the scattered regions of my brain.

   This past year has been a refiners fire for me personally and for my family as a whole. I remember a year ago at this time, as 2013 drew to a close, that I felt there was something on the horizon and I needed to hold on tight. Just a few weeks into 2014 it all seemed to hit me a once. I had the first crisis of my health, developments in my marriage had brought it to the breaking point, and financial concerns kept cropping up with our rental house that threatened to devastate us.

   "Hang on, just hang on..." a voice seemed to whisper to me. I don't know who it was. Perhaps it was the Holy Ghost, although at times it felt like the unseen hands and whispers of angels. I can't describe why I felt this way, but I felt the influence of my grandmothers on the other side of the veil lifting me when the road ahead felt too hard to bear. One night I sat in the temple parking lot as I read their patriarchal blessings and sobbed at the realization that in their own ways, and in their own lives, they could relate to what I was going through. That beyond the white hair and years, they were women just like me, with lives full of experiences that could offer empathy, even in their physical absence. The things that in my pain and privacy I couldn't open up to people about, they understood and saw and because of that they were able to be with me and guide me.

  Hanging on, even when it was the hardest thing to do, saved me. Because of the white knuckle grip those unseen hands somehow managed to help me keep, the Lord was able to guide me to sources of strength and to help me find peace or resolution for challenges that I was facing. After surgery, uncertainty, and more time in the doctor's office in the past 12 months than I have in the past 30+ years, I am ending this year in a much better place than I began it, in terms of my health.

   At one point this year, after many years of trying, I stood at the heart-wrenching precipice of deciding if ending my marriage with my husband was the right decision. Wanting so badly to feel a wholeness in our relationship, that had long felt elusive, but fearing my heart and trust could never be mended. After counseling, a lot of work, and allowing the Atonement to work for both of us, I feel more at peace in our relationship than I have since the day it began. In addition, Justin has started to come to church with us again, to pray with us again, and to turn to the Lord in his own ways. As I watch his transformation emerge, my heart and it's ability to love and forgive have transformed and changed too. I can honestly say that working from and through the depths of my sorrow has born a love more honest than ever.

   In terms of hope financially, we were finally able to sell our rental house and with it the financial strain and uncertainty of being landlords on a property we were consistently losing money on. Rather than feeling like we are constantly sinking, there is the hope to keep treading water towards brighter days ahead. Additionally, I was led to opportunities to gain a love of the scriptures this year. I was able to fulfill the longtime goal of going back to school this year. Justin and I will be closing on our family's forever home in a few short weeks. Finally as this year closes, after so many hard years before, I can feel a sense of hope and peace on the horizon.

   Around me I see friends who's grips are slipping as the challenges and adversities of life pile up. It breaks my heart and I find myself on my knees pleading with the Lord to provide those heavenly whispers "Hold on, just hold on..." to them as well. Watching the struggles around me and reflecting on my own has brought to my remembrance the many, many blessings and miracles that I have watched come to pass this year. It has helped me to see how much I have grown in my testimony and understanding. It has helped me to better understand the Lord's plan, timing, and purposes. It has deepened my understanding of God's love for me individually and an unshakable faith that His promises are sure.

   Tonight as I was wiping countertops and listening to my scriptures on my phone, the thought occurred to me that I undeniably know which team I am on. I am on the Lord's side. The truths and benefits of the Gospel have been made so abundantly clear to me, that I know without a doubt the condemnation that would come upon me if I ever turned away from it. Not that I ever had plans to, but as I watch friends who were rock solid slip and slide away, I see that the adversary can get his grips in anyone. But this year has opened my eyes to the bigger picture in so many ways.

   The way I saw the Lord's hand in my life today was that solidifying witness, in my own private moment, that everything that has happened in the past year, and years before that building up to now, was to bring me to that knowledge. To cement the path of discipleship before me and to help me better come to love and know my Father in Heaven and Savior, Jesus Christ. That there has been purpose in the pain, and it was to bring me to the exquisite joy and peace that comes from allowing the Savior to guide your path and making the conscious decision to follow Him.

"I'm a Rebel, Dottie"

   Random quotation from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure there. My brothers and I used to watch that movie and laugh and laugh as kids. Good times. But I am feeling like a rebel because the kidlets are finally in bed and I am supposed to be balancing my checkbook, picking out a new insurance plan, and putting in about 3 hours of homework tonight. But instead I am here, in my happy place, the ol' bloggerito, sharing a picture that makes me very happy. 

   We took family pictures the day after Halloween and let me just tell you, it was FREEZING cold outside!! Our hair, we had spent way too much time on, (beautifying five heads of hair ain't no easy thing, folks!) was blown to bits within seconds by giant gusts of seemingly arctic winds. We had chattering teeth and red noses. The downpour from the night before left us with wet bums after posing for our first picture in the grass. I kept looking at Justin and giving him the "This is a disaster, I should have rescheduled" face. It was kind of like a metaphor for our life though. Things rarely go according to plan. You have to adjust and accommodate to what life throws at you and just smile at the fact that we are all together! Actually, we are all smiling here, but really it's just because I had bribed the kids with a steamy mug of Roma!

   Like every crazy bump in life though, I am grateful it was experienced together, as The Young Crew. I am truly grateful for a husband that loves me, gets me, and has been with me through it all. For four, beautiful, smart, spunky, hilarious daughters who fry my patience and inspire me daily. Arctic blasts, wet bums and all, I am one blessed woman.

Jesus & Elvis

I am not much into Facebook anymore so I am going to post those random little ramblings that I want to remember, but don't necessarily need the commentary of the whole world on...

1. Earlier our little friend Laci Jensen was over, she saw our Christmas elf, Elvis, was on the mantle and said that her elves came last night too! They had brought her and her brothers lotion, gum, and a movie. Lulu thought for a second and said "Well....our elf didn't bring us presents, but he brings us HAPPINESS! Which is pretty much the greatest things EVER!!" It was pretty, dang, stinkin' cute!!

2. Devy and Lu were at the table playing with kinetic sand and I heard Devy say "I love Jesus so much and miss him. He died, but He will come alive again at Easter." Lauryn said "Well He is always alive because of Easter Devyn!" Devy thought about that for a minute and then said matter of factly "Well, He still dies sometimes, okay!"

Love those nuggets!

Hard Work

Hello dear, old blog. I have missed being able to spend time with my thoughts and you, just writing about life or experiences. Things have been busy and any extra moments I have outside of work, family and life have been spent on schoolwork. Tonight though for one of my classes, I actually got to take a break from the typical, monotonous method of answering questions! We were asked to take a couple pages to share an experience where we had to work hard for something and reaped the rewards of that hard work. This was my experience...

   My oldest daughter is eleven years old. Sometimes I still have to pinch myself to think that so many years have slipped by between her place in life and when it was me, fresh over the decade mark. My sixth grade year was a bubble of happiness, and in my own nerdy way, confidence. Nestled right next to my home on 3644 Autumn Ridge Parkway was my best friend’s house. Just a few skips between doorsteps and there, in a world of brothers who shooed their only sister away, was someone who understood me. We had woods to explore behind us and plenty of sidewalk to rollerskate on in front of us. We would play Barbies for hours and make up goofy commercials with my dad’s bulky camcorder. I was always a shy girl, but I felt safe and secure in the little world that had been created around me.

     At school I had always tried to be a conscientious student and was eager to please. I remember one time in the fifth grade I received a mark on my spotless behavior card for forgetting my homework. I laid my head down on my desk and quietly fought back tears of shame. I was humiliated and disappointed that my perfect record had been marred. It was this conscientiousness that had led me generally to do very well in school. Starting middle school and going into sixth grade had been a fun transition for me. I started playing the flute, got my very first locker, got along well with my classmates, and got used to changing classes for each subject. I flourished and my grades were a reflection of that.

    At the end of that first year at J.J. Daniell Middle School though my parents made an announcement. We would be leaving our red, brick house on Autumn Ridge Parkway and our life, in the Southern United States, to move across the country to Washington State, in the Great Northwest. We were proud of my dad for receiving a promotion and pulled together as a family to support him. The moving truck came, and while the movers loaded all our familiar things into the belly of the truck to make the cross-country trek, I found that even after we unpacked, nothing felt familiar again to me for quite some time. 

    It seemed that my confidence had been left there in that red, brick house in my secure, little bubble on Autumn Ridge Parkway, as we drove away without it. The kids at my new school and in my new neighborhood weren’t as warm and accepting. Before I had never thought to question myself, because I was surrounded by the love of people who knew me and accepted me, quirks and all. Here in this new place that I couldn’t bring myself to call home, I didn’t say the right things, I didn’t wear the right clothes, and in my insecurity I stood too close. Desperately wanting to fit in and to feel familiar, safe, and secure.

   I became preoccupied with this lonely feeling, but tried to put on a good face. I yearned for acceptance, for a connection, and to feel like being me was okay. I remember sitting in seventh grade Pre-Algebra and coming out of my fog long enough to realize that in my pre-occupation I no longer had any idea what the teacher was talking about. My formerly-conscientious self  was falling behind. But instead of asking for help I froze and over the next couple of years dug myself in deeper and deeper.

   By ninth grade I was failing Algebra. Our teacher was the wrestling coach and seemed to give preferential treatment to athletes. I wasn’t an athlete. I was a ghost. Floating through that school, but never really feeling like anyone saw me. Never really feeling like anyone cared. After flunking Algebra, I enrolled in idiot math for losers who couldn’t hack it in real math. We were supposed to learn how to balance a checkbook and figure out if we could afford things. But our freakishly tall, ruddy-faced teacher would just tell us glory-days stories from college and make fun of his son who was an “egghead”. One day close to Christmas, he said if we could score him a box of Cuban cigars that he would give us an “A” in the class. It was at that moment that I officially gave up. My teachers didn’t care if I learned a dang thing, so why should I?!

    I ended up excelling in flunking that year. I took some extra classes through BYU Independent Study to make up for the lost credits and barely hacked it as an average student for the next couple of years. By my Senior year though I was begging my parents to just let me homeschool or drop out. I hated being there. I hated being a ghost. I just wanted to drop off the map and hide.

     I ended up attending a vocational program my Senior year that gave me the high school credits I needed to graduate. But I only made that walk across the stage in my purple cap and gown by the skin of my teeth. For years after graduation I would wake up in a panic that it didn’t actually happen. Dreaming that I never graduated and that I was the biggest, dumbest loser of all time. 

    I went on to use my vocational training, where I did flourish and continued to gain knowledge within the Dental industry where I worked. This helped my confidence and did put some of those nagging nightmares at bay. But somehow there was always this dark place in the back of my mind that told me I was too dumb to ever learn math.

   After the birth of my fourth child, with strained relationships in my life, and in the midst of another difficult move, I felt myself craving, amongst the chaos of life, something measurable that I could control, that I could take a hold of. There was a community college about 15 minutes from my house. Scared to death by the hauntings of my former self, but ready to bury that nagging fear once and for all, I went and enrolled in an Algebra class. 

    I worked my tail off that semester. Studying for hours on end, staying late up into the night after a busy day of tending to my young family. I refused to take “I don’t get this” as an acceptable answer or excuse to roadblocks in my understanding. I set my pride aside and asked for help, even when it made me feel dumb. I visualized that this was the end of the line. Never again would I say to myself “I can’t do math.” When I checked my final grade at the end of the semester and saw an “A” glowing back at me from that computer screen, a grin broke free on my face. I felt like if I could ace Algebra, as silly and simple as that was to some people, that there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do. 

   At that moment the ghost of my past left me in peace. I knew that I would have a long way to go in my learning journey, and that there was still so much to prove to myself. But at that moment I could feel a confidence that had long lied dormant, starting to emerge. I could feel that fear and doubt were no longer going to be the motivator in my life. Rather it was going to be the discovery of the capable, smart, hard-working person that was in there all along, just waiting to be believed in.

I think I'm Crazy...

As if my life wasn't already crazy enough, I've decided to pursue a degree from BYU-Idaho on top of working, serving, running a house and being a wife and mom. I am about three weeks in and let me just tell you, sleep and a social life may be a thing of the past for the next several years. Ay, caramba! Can't wait to check this item off the bucket list though!

Like a Broken Vessel

   Justin has fought depression for years and at times the fight has been very tough. Looking back, I didn't even realize at the time what it was because he hid it, or himself, from me. Denying anything was wrong. The silent suffering and the denial caused a lot of pain, both for him and for me. Thankfully we are at a place in our life together where he is learning to recognize when the dark fogs of an episode threaten to envelope him and will let me know so he doesn't have to silently suffer and I am not shut out, not understanding why.

   Justin is an extremely private person. Most people don't shout from the roof tops that they struggle with a form of mental illness. It's taboo. Frankly though, I am tired of it.

   On Monday, Justin came to me and told me that the actor Robin Williams had committed suicide after struggling with severe depression. He said it scared him to the core. He said that it's terrifying to think that the potential for that kind of sadness and despondency can be creeping around the periphery of one's mind. That it doesn't matter if you are talented, wealthy, well-known or well-loved. Depression takes no prisoners.

   Within minutes of learning the sad news he said he felt the anxiety and weight of being one who lives with depression begin to creep in. He sought solace in a talk given by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland entitled "Like a Broken Vessel" that he has referred to again and again in recent months when he has found himself in need of hope, peace and perspective.

   I watched it tonight to try to put myself in his shoes and gain some perspective on these current events. As I did, I felt my love for my husband swell. We all walk around every day with our quiet struggles. I know at the beginning of the year when everything in my life was colliding in one, big heap of crap, I felt it. I got a taste of it. Of the cruel, tight squeeze it puts on your mind and the shadow it casts over your whole view. I came through mine, but some people struggle with those feelings their whole lives. It's a sobering and humbling realization.

  It made me want to be kinder and more patient and understanding. I am grateful for the knowledge that we have a Father in Heaven who loves us and who understands us. Who has insight into our thoughts, motivations and struggles. Grateful for a Savior who paid the ultimate price so that one day we can be made whole again. Without infirmity of the body or mind. 

                 

Happiness Is....

Happiness is having your husband go into work late, just so you can lay in bed, spooned and smiling, to welcome a new day.

Happiness is realizing being blessed is really being given times in your life that require you to summon faith and courage.

Happiness is a day on your calendar with nothing but blank space.

Happiness is having clean floors and baseboards.

Happiness is getting lost and taking the long way with a dear friend along for the ride.

Happiness is treating the kids to the dollar theater and sharing a big bucket of popcorn.

Happiness is closing the computer, turning off the phone and dog-piling on the couch with the little lives that fill your heart.

Happiness is sunshine streaming through windows.

Happiness is family art projects.

Happiness is eating chocolate pudding with cool whip on it, like a schoolkid, without a care in the world.

Happiness is sitting on the deck steps as the sunlight fades and booty shaking in the living room.

Happiness is texts that say you are loved and missed.

Happiness is dusting off your imagination and losing yourself in a daydream.

Happiness is today.

"Trouble With The Curve"

   When it comes to love languages and all that, mine is not being showered with gifts and expensive dinners out. In fact I kind of resent the commercialism that is shoved down people's throats when it comes to holidays and all these built up expectations people get. I just want face time or kind gestures. So last night Valentine's Day was perfect for me. Justin made the girls and I a delicious chicken pasta dinner. It had grilled asparagus, zucchini and a cream sauce...I had three bowls, so apparently it was delicious! ;) We ate as a family and then we sent the girls upstairs to have a "Girl Party" and watch a movie while chowing on popcorn and Twizzlers. Justin and I settled in on the couch and he rubbed my back. (So much better than putting on heels and braving the crowds!)

   I wasn't that excited about Justin's movie choice, "Trouble With The Curve" thinking it was going to be some boring, sports movie though. I was really wrong. In fact, I loved it. Probably because I felt like I could relate to aspects of the movie, like I was watching our life in some ways. It details a father-daughter relationship with a longtime baseball scout. Being married to a basketball scout, or "Recruiting Analyst" as they now call themselves, I kept looking at Justin and joking about how weird it was to see our life on screen. There was a scene where the scout is sitting in a diner booth alone going over game notes, when he overhears a mom with her small children sitting at the counter seats. One child says "Mom, I miss Daddy." I looked at Justin and it was like each of us was getting a glimpse at what the other person's life is like when we aren't together.

   Even Justin was laughing at how he thought his personality is a bit like Clint Eastwood's character. No nonsense, cursing, workaholic, perfectionist, not into feelings talks, etc... But by the end of the movie you see the softer, more loveable side of Eastwood and it made me smile. Because that's what I see in Justin. He puts up his walls for some people, but I know better. He doesn't necessarily care if you love him or hate him. But he cares that I love him and I love that.

   I was thinking as we sat there on the couch, nestled up under our blanket, about how far we've come and where we have been in our relationship over the years. Valentine's morning 15 years ago was when we announced our engagement to our families. It has been a wild ride since then and a lot has transpired. But I love where we are at in our love for each other and I love the possibilities of where we can be headed together.

   I love that Justin supports me in the things that are important to me, even if they aren't to him. I love that he puts up with my quirks and -ism's and sees the humor in it rather than judging me for it. I love that he appreciates me and makes sure he lets me know. I love that while he hates noise, chaos and interruptions, which is essentially life with kids, he loves his kids and cares if he is a good daddy to them. While it would be nice if he didn't work quite so much, I love and appreciate that he is a hard worker. There are a lot of things I love about him and a lot of things being married to him has taught me about myself. I am glad we are in it together and thankful to have him by my side in this journey of life.

Chattanooga, TN - August 2013

Our Little Valentines

A tradition that began years ago, when our family was half the size it is now, has been for Justin and I to wake up early to make our girls a special Valentine's breakfast. School was cancelled today because of snow and ice, so we didn't have to wake up quite so early this year, which was an extra special treat!

Things I love about these pictures...

1. Maryn has on her old lady shawl because the girls were having a proper tea party with their stuffed animals while Justin and I were cooking. I love that my 10 year old is still a little girl, in no rush to grow up. She also has her much loved 70's mug she bought  with hard-earned "music bucks" in music class back when we were living in Oregon. I swear she will pack that up and take it off to college with her someday, she loves it that much!

2. I love Lulu's expressive antics! She was pulling faces at me even behind her cocoa mug. Last night we got a bag of hand-me-downs from a friend. She was THRILLED and did a twirly fashion show, showing off all her new clothes! This morning she made sure to scour her new clothing options for the perfect Valentine's outfit! She wanted to make sure that she was feeling sufficiently fancy at our family breakfast!

3. Devy said the prayer over breakfast and Justin and I couldn't help but crack our eyes at each other and silently chuckle! Our littlest is just getting so big! It still is so weird to hear her doing and saying big-kid things! We were joking at breakfast though that the way you spell Devyn is D-R-A-M-A! She was cracking me up with her Popeye grin, complete with a scuffed up face that was the result of taking a tumble out of a moving Power Wheels yesterday. That child is a force of nature!

4. Brynnie loves a good dose of silly! There was no shortage of her signature laugh as we all took turns speaking in British accents, having tongue curling contests (Brynna is my tongue-twin!) and doing bird calls to each other. (Sometimes table manners have to take a back seat....) Justin especially gets her in stitches, whether he is acting like an Australian or a Brit....but our favorite is his Michelle Duggar impersonation! ;)

I feel so very blessed to have such an awesome, little family to love! They truly have my heart!

Morning Walk

   I woke up this morning when the house was still quiet. Quiet in this house is a rare thing. I actually had time to assess how I was feeling before the demands of the day pulled me out of bed. I laid there for a minute, bothered that I was aware of the lump in my right breast. It was sore, like a bruise. Sometimes it burns. Other times it's fine.

   In late September I had it checked out. Mammograms, ultasounds and then a biopsy. It was benign. Hallelujah. But I hate that it is still there, nagging my subconscious. I am sure it is fine and it is just one of "those things", a harmless annoyance.

   But in the back of my head there is that little voice that wonders if it's tied to me feeling so badly lately. It's not like I am bed ridden or anything. But I just feel "off" and I wish I knew why. I wish I had answers. I wish I could feel better.

   Then part of me wonders if it's my brain making me feel this way? If I pulled myself up by my boot straps and mentally pushed through I would be fine, right? But then part of my wonders if I am so worn down because I have been doing that for so long? Not confronting and addressing how I feel?

   I have patiently been waiting for a week for the results of my blood tests, so I could hopefully have some answers. Hoping everything will be fine and fearing at the same time that there will be nothing conclusively wrong, because then there is no reason for the way I feel. I am sure it is simple as an iron deficiency or something simple to fix. But the waiting, the wondering, the quietly worrying...I'm ready to move past that.

   I decided rather than lay there and start a new day already feeling moody and perplexed, I would get up and venture outside, going solo. The quiet, the stillness, the fresh air and beauty of the morning cleared my head. I asked God to help this veil of depression to lift, to help me be myself again.

   I didn't have any impression that He heard me in that moment. But as I walked and looked up at the snow-dusted canopy of His creations I knew that He is aware of all the things made by His hand. Including me...and I felt some measure of peace in that.

**Update: As today has progressed I can feel my mood lightening, excitement in my heart about things and my weariness starting to fade. It is that confirmation that Heavenly Father is letting me know he heard the prayers of my heart.** 

Anti-Social

   I deactivated my Facebook account at the beginning of January.

   It's not that I am against it or anything. I just couldn't figure out what real purpose it served for me? I had stayed on so that I could keep in touch with gym people, church people, family, etc... But mostly it was just a barrage of needless information from people I would otherwise have very little interaction with. Nothing against them. I just don't know why I need to be abreast on every detail of their lives. I decided that gym people I could see at the gym and those I were close to could text me if they needed me. I got emails about all the church stuff, so really Facebook was just a needless double-dip. I decided family I could still follow on Instagram and could of course email, text, or call.

   Over time I had grown really used to checking something when I got on my computer though. Now I log on and can literally be done in minutes. Really all I check is email and my bank account. It feels weird closing the lid of my laptop after just a couple of minutes. I am just now realizing how much time I spent needlessly filling my mind with information I didn't even need.

   Old habits die hard though and tonight I logged onto Pinterest, just to have something to mindlessly look at. But I found that after a few minutes I got annoyed and logged off. It made me wonder if I am just becoming more and more anti-social? Am I turning into a jaded stick in the mud?

   The thing is, I don't really care what twenty pancake recipes someone pinned that they will probably never try. I am going to use my go-to family recipe for the rest of my life because I love how it makes me feel tied to generations of family that went before me.

   I don't care about the slew of fantasy pictures of a friend of a friend's dream living room. My reality is, my kids destroy everything. Four, young kids aren't exactly a good mix for white sofas and $250 throw pillows. So I am not even dreaming of anything nice until they leave home.

   I REALLY don't care about adorable, little Valentine crafts (or any other holiday for that matter). Truthfully, crafts annoy the hell out of me. I am happy to just cover the essentials like grocery shopping and making it to the bottom of a laundry basket. I will get next years Valentines this year, the day after Valentine's when they go on clearance.

   I would be blissfully content if I never saw one of the fifty million posts about how many squats and crunches you need to do to get the perfect body ever again. I am not a self-motivator and wouldn't do a routine on my own at home anyways. That's why I go to the gym, where someone else just tells me what to do.

   I don't care about someone else's constant obsession with what is fashionable right now. Truthfully, if I am not in scrubs, I am in jeans. I don't have money or time or places to go in which to worry about if I am at the height of fashion. I try not to look like Tonya Harding in '94 or anything, but the truth is, that kind of hyper-focus on the exterior is not in alignment with my reality.

   Am I sounding like a lot of fun yet? I swear, I am...and practical to a fault!

Due to doctor's orders, boss's orders, coach's orders, friend's orders and husband's orders I am making myself slow down and do nothing. And frankly tonight I felt bored. I can't even tell you the last time that happened...it's weird.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

   Well, I fell off the blogging map because I started The Whole Life Challenge and was dedicating my focus to that. The Challenge wasn't strictly Paleo, but had strong Paleo foundations. I was doing it because I really wanted to prove to myself that I could commit to the challenge aspect of it and take my nutrition to the next level in terms of health and clean eating.

    I didn't want to lose any weight, but was hoping for more strength and muscle definition. I put my heart, soul and dedication into it and followed the program as prescribed. Basically three weeks in I couldn't ignore the bad things that were happening to my body. Right out of the gate I lost four pounds and then my strength started to nosedive. I was extremely weak and fatigued. My blood sugars fell through the floor. This was not supposed to happen!! I couldn't understand (and still can't) how cutting out breads and sugars could have such an adverse affect on my body. I was eating a ton of veggies, good fats, fruits, meats, eggs and even yogurt and felt more weak and sick with each passing day. The day my blood sugar was the worst I reported to my boss what I had eaten and he said it didn't make any sense why it would be so low. That I had eaten plenty of the right things.

   I went off the Challenge about a week ago and have just been eating normally in moderation. I have gained 7 pounds in ONE WEEK as a result. I lost 50 pounds years ago just eating the way I have this past week (in moderation) and now I am gaining weight at about a pound a day?! I am so confused! I went to the doctor on Friday and they ran about 11 different blood tests on me to try and figure out what is going on.

   Ever since my teenage years where I tried every diet known to man, I had always been very much against diets. But I made a concession with this because I didn't see it as a diet, I saw it as a lifestyle shift towards clean eating, not dieting. All I know is I am never doing any kind of program ever again. I hope this hasn't permanently messed my body up and I hope the weight gain will taper off and I can get it back to where my starting weight was just by making smart choices.

  I am anxious to get the results of my blood tests back to see if the diet triggered an underlying issue or if it was just the diet itself. Either way the whole experience was extremely disappointing.

Kindergarten Heartbreaker

Lulu's embarrassed, but secretly loving the adoration, face!

Lulu was cracking me up a few minutes ago. She was telling me about a boy at school who is in love with her! She assures me, however, that she does NOT love him back!! She said "Mom, this boy in my class follows me all around and calls me kind of adult names that I do not think are very appropriate!" (You should hear the conversation in her little voice!) My mind racing, I asked her what kind of names she was talking about? I am thinking to myself, is some Kindergartner calling my kid sexy or something?! (We say that is an "adult" word in our house.) She refused to spill the beans, so I asked her "Lulu, does he call you Sweetheart?" She nodded emphatically and then said "Gross Mom! I can't even talk about it!" Laughing I said "Does he call you Sugar and Snookums and Pumpkin Noodle?" She made a face and said "Stop Mom, he calls me all those names and I try to run away from him because I do NOT even like him!" I told her she doesn't have to like him, but not to break his heart and remember to be nice. She looked at me and threw her hand on her hip and said "Well Mom, it's just that I am a little picky, okay?!" This child cracks me up!

Whole Life Challenge

 

 I love to workout and will have been doing CrossFit now for a little over a year and a half. (I can't believe how fast time has flown!) Sweating is like my therapy, so more often than not I don't have a hard time getting motivated to get my butt in the gym. I do however have a harder time being as dedicated with my nutrition. I am not horrible, but I definitely have room for improvement. So this Saturday I am starting something called the Whole Life Challenge. It's an 8-week lifestyle reboot that includes reigning it in on foods that are processed, sugars and starches. I'm not gonna lie, I am a big fan of baked goods and justify my dark-chocolate almond habit as something that is healthy for me. So it will be an adjustment, but I am actually kind of starting to get excited by the thought of committing to something that I know will be good for me and my body in the long run.

   

Downton Abbey

I am more than just a smidgey bit excited that I get to settle my carcass on the couch tonight with Justin to watch the first episode of season four of Downton Abbey!! Eek! It has been a very long wait since the last episode I saw, where they ended it with Matthew a bloody mess in a ditch on the happiest day of his life. So lame. I actually had a friend Google if you can be unconscious with your eyes open, because she refused to believe they could have killed him off! I am sure they did just that, unfortunately, but I can't wait to see how it all unfolds!

My Forever Family

I wrote this tonight about an experience I had at church yesterday... 
    

  I sat surrounded on the hard, metal chairs at the rear of the chapel by my four, young daughters. The hushed, but busy noises of families with small children surrounded us as our Bishop turned the time over for the bearing of testimonies. My eight-year-old, Brynna, laid her head on my shoulder and looking up at me with eager, blue eyes whispered “Mom, I want to bear my testimony!”

      I smiled at her and told her to go ahead. My heart swelled in my chest as I watched her little, blonde head determinedly make its way from the very back of the chapel, up to the pulpit for the first time. I certainly was never as brave at that age. What she said made my heart swell even more though. She stood in front of the congregation and peering over the microphone said “I would like to bear my testimony that I know my family is forever and I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”

      Of all the gospel principles she could have born a simple testimony of, it touched my heart that this was the principle in her heart and on her mind that day.

      You see, my husband is inactive and has made the decision not to come to church with his family anymore. So every Sunday I load the kids in the van, find a row of empty, metal chairs and bring our daughters to church by myself.

     It took a while, after his decision was made, for sitting in Sacrament Meeting not to be a painful experience. Surrounded by other families who had their husband or dad on their row with them. While I was grateful, it hurt to have to ask my friend’s husband to give my children blessings when they were sick or needing comfort, instead of having a worthy Priesthood holder in my home to turn to. Many times I would find myself sitting in the temple on Ward Temple Night, keenly aware that my “date” wasn’t with me and wondering how my family’s situation translated on an eternal perspective. 

     Though participating in church activities usually meant my quiet sorrows were just under the surface, threatening to show up in the form of hot tears I would try to fight back at the mention of priesthood or eternal families, my commitment and resolve to staying active myself and making sure our daughters were raised with a knowledge of gospel principles sustained me. Slowly the pain of these situations eased as the joy of the gospel filled in those sad and hollow places in my heart. 

     By continuing to come to church each week, I was allowing myself to be reminded of Heavenly Father’s love for me. I was reminded that He knows me and my situation personally. I was reminded that He has plans for my life. I was reminded, as my daughter bore testimony, that my family is forever. That if I earnestly strive to be worthy of promised blessings, that Heavenly Father will work miracles. Maybe those miracles will be in my heart, in the ability to endure faithfully. Maybe they will be in my husband’s heart, in the desire to nurture a seed of faith. Maybe the miracles will be in the lives of our sweet daughters as they grow and their own faith is strengthened with the understanding from a young age that a testimony doesn’t just happen, but is something that must be worked for. 

     Whatever the Lord has in store for me, I know it is what I need. I have faith in His plan and know my Father in Heaven also desires my family to be a forever one. And I know that the realization of that starts with me.