Monday, April 10, 2017

It takes a village...

     So it's been two and a half weeks since we came home from the hospital with our little 7 lb. 6 oz. angel, and we have never been more tired, frustrated, depressed, sleep deprived, or happier than we are now. We have sleepless nights, and napless days. We have changed more diapers and onesies than we thought possible. We have learned that our little one makes more noises when she's asleep than when she's awake. These past 2.5 weeks have felt like a lifetime and yet they feel like all we did was blink. Overall, we know that our lives have been changed for the better. From the first day when we discovered we were pregnant to now, our lives have been blessed.
     Some of my readers know how much we struggled with getting pregnant. It may not be a struggle like others, but for us we couldn't figure out why we were having such a hard time. In the four years that we have been married, we didn't exactly take specific measures to prevent our family from growing. So when we decided to start trying, actually trying to expand our family it took us a bit. Three months shy of trying for a year, we found out we had finally succeeded. Our day of elation began with Mike finding out before I did because I didn't dare look at the pregnancy test (for fear that it was another negative). Nine months of 1,000+ changes later, we came home with a tiny, perfect human.
     Motherhood is challenging. Nobody really talks about how hard it is, because describing it is nearly impossible. The amount of hormones racing through you and the exhausting experience of being born for your newborn, make for a roller coaster ride for which you can't truly prepare. You get anxious, depressed, happy, sad and more and then you cry and cry and cry. You cry because you're happy, and then you cry because you're hormonal and you want to be a "good mom" but you don't feel like you're making the cut. Then you cry because you feel like a strain on those around you. You feel like you're draining the strength of your husband and that he's constantly trying to lift you up and take care of the demands of a newborn.
     The hardest part for me is to remember that those who are around you, who want to help you, they wouldn't do it if they couldn't. They wouldn't help you if they didn't have the ability or the time or the patience to help you. And the trick is to let them help you. They say it takes a village to raise a child and that is the truth. It also takes a village to help the mother.

Monday, March 14, 2016

Dreams...There's something about them.

Last night I had one of the craziest dreams I've ever had. And that's saying something. I have no shortage of strange dreams. But this one takes the cake. I was with my family, and they all had errands to run. So mom left, dad was at work, Tasha went to take care of her family, Tyler was on his way in from out of state, Kindra and her hubby were finishing some finals, and Kira was out with friends. Somehow, they all knew that I was sick or that I wasn't going to be around much longer, but they understood that life goes on. So off they went. And I somehow knew that I didn't have much time left. So I wrote a note, it was on the counter of a portable table we own, and it was written in red crayon. I had basically said that I was so proud of my family and all of their ambitious goals. I hope they would pursue those goals, and that I hoped they would go on with their lives, and that this wasn't the end. I knew that as long as I had them, then everything would be alright. I was so grateful that we were a forever family because mom and dad had been sealed in the temple. After I wrote that note, I went out back and continued using the same red crayon and drew a picture on another table, the miniature picnic table that has a vinyl type of table top. In order to draw this picture, I had to move some of dad's drills and tools. Suddenly mom came home and I wanted to see her, I wanted to be with her when she found my note. To try and comfort her. As I left the table and my picture to go into the house, I turned once more to survey my art to make sure it was right, and the tools that I had thought I'd moved were back in place, and my picture was gone. But so was I. I turned back around just in time to see mom reading my note. Suddenly the family was back, and I couldn't comfort any of them. Tasha was saying that David needed a big boy bed, and mini-Tyler had grown curly hair. It was so surreal to be around everybody, but to not be with them. Then I hear this chime, it was time to go and to leave my family until they could join me. But I wasn't ready, I didn't want to leave. The chimes continued and then I realized that it was because I was alive and those chimes were coming from the alarm on my phone. I couldn't wake up fast enough. One of my worst fears is passing away in my sleep, without having the chance to say good-bye to my family and friends. There are some nights when this fear can keep me up for hours at a time. But some how, I had this dream and it was all too real. The other problem with my dream was that Mike wasn't there. Because we hadn't been sealed yet. And when I woke this morning, I couldn't...I just, Heaven isn't going to be Heaven without my family. And my family includes Mike. I need him there. Mike was an answer to my desperation to continue living after Megan passed away. He has been my rock in more ways than one. I don't think that heaven would be a desirable place if Mike can't be there with me.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Tanto tempo, e adeus, velho amigo.

Well, apparently it's been quite some time since I've posted anything. I haven't shared that I got married. I haven't shared that I have a new job! And both of those are quite exciting events in my life. I haven't shared that I started school again. Which may have its abundant sides, but in the end, it's just a stressful adventure to get me where I ultimately want to be (career wise). But all of that is fodder compared to what I came here to do. I came to vent. So, if you feel that your life is full of enough drama, and downpour of bad opinions and such, then maybe reading this now is simply not for you. Maybe you'll have to come back, or avoid this post altogether. Either way, you've been warned. I used to have a friend. She was upbeat, slightly sassy, full of life, and full of hope for her future. Lately she has...changed. I don't know what's going on with her. I know that we've moved apart over the years, and that's on both of our parts. See, a relationship can only stay together if both individuals are invested in keeping it together. It's not hard to pinpoint when our relationship changed, and I probably wouldn't go back and change that. In truth, I feel somewhat relieved that she and I are no longer friends. But my grievance comes from seeing how her life has changed so much in just a short time period. She smokes (or so her pictures would lead you to believe). She drinks. Poses naked for pictures you don't ever wish to see from anybody you know (regardless of relationship status). Says and does things that were not a part of her original personality. Now, before you start to think these changes are a natural part of life, I know and understand that. I know that change is a piece of the puzzle to life. I know that without change we could never acheive who we are meant to be. I know that the changes we make to our own personality are ours to control. I know this. But it doesnt change the fact that people don't generally pull a 360 change. In one of my classes from college, it was discussed to no end that our personalities are stable over time. That by the time we are 6 our personalities are extremely well formed, and for the most part, permanent. To see the way my old friend has changed causes me to feel grief for her. I feel both sad and angry at the same time. Angry that she feels that she can step in at any time, and conduct a search/investigation to a mutual friend's death. Anger that she feels so entitled to destroy and vandalize another's personal property. Who is she to finally step up to rectify her guilt at not being a friend when she had the chance? Who is she to decide that slashing tires was acceptable ventilation of guilt and anger? I feel sad for her because I once saw her happy. I saw the person she was when she chose to be the best self she was designed to become. I saw her smile, genuinely and without force. I heard her laugh and joke the way she did in Jr. High. And I feel sad that she chose this path. I feel a seperation from the people who loved her the most. While I may have been a better friend at one point, and I most certainly had power to change some of my actions between the two of us, I cannot help but feel estranged. I no longer want to be her friend. I no longer want to see her posts on facebook. To get her messages for her boyfriend's art shows. I have nothing left to invest with her. Yet, I don't break that string. My sister and I were talking about this not so long ago, and she commented that maybe, just maybe I feel these feelings because I still care about my old friend. Perhaps, I still love her and I don't want to see her destroy a life that once had unobjectionable joy. And perhaps, my sister has a point. But how do you continue to befriend a friend you don't feel deserves your friendship? How do you love someone when you're also just a little angry with them? Is there ever a point in life when it's right to move on, and say good-bye to those who you used to know? When do you know? When do you find a way to judge for yourself that sometimes, just as the passing of seasons, it's time to end a relationship that's no longer there? And how do you justify to yourself, that you shouldn't feel bad about wanting the end? Sometimes it's best to walk away. Isn't it? I don't know what I expected from this post. I don't know if I crave feedback, or advice. I don't know if I will feel better after posting this. I just know that sometimes it is better to let go. I just wish I knew when the timing of letting go was right. Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. I'll write another post soon.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

An honest confession of life

I wasn't exactly a "happy" child. If you were to ask anybody in my family, they'd tell you I'm never happy. And if you were to tell them that I'm always happy, they'd never believe you. I grew up thinking that it wasn't okay to feel anything but happiness. That life was supposed to be a sugar coated land of laughter, and smiling. Where problems don't exist.

My whole life, I've been told it's not okay to get upset. That it's the devil getting inside, and controlling me. That it's not okay to hurt, because it'll lead to depression. I've been told that it's not okay to cry, because it shows people that you're weak.

And to be honest, I've never understood this. I figured, if there is opposition in all things, then shouldn't there be opposition in happiness? I mean, how does one fully enjoy being happy if they're never sad? How can I experience a peaceful calm in life if I'm never angry, or upset? Why should I relish in the serenity of relief if I'm never allowed to experience the storm?

I have come to the conclusion that it's okay to hurt. It's okay to be angry sometimes. Granted being angry all the time is not ideal, but sometimes it's okay. I find comfort in the quiet hours of the morning on nights when I can't sleep. I enjoy going outside when everybody else is asleep, and looking up at the stars, thinking of what I've felt during the day. I remember the moments when I got upset, and laugh at the times when I was happy. I smile at the stupid mistakes I made. And sometimes, when I find it appropriate, I even allow myself to cry. I can't begin to describe just how good it feels to be able to cry, a good gut wrenching sobbing, tear my throat out from screaming, type of cry. I'm twenty five years old, and I am openly admitting that sometimes I have to cry. Recently it's more of a curl myself into a ball, and duck my head to my chest type of cry. But it feels good to be able to get it out. It's like vomiting when you're sick. You have to get it out of your system.

In my opinion, simply from one human to another, I am telling you this, we are meant to feel the way we feel. We have been designed to feel pain, anger, scared, depression, apathy, mute, calm, silence, joy, laughter, happiness, loved, confused, blessed, humility, shame, content. It is not a coincidence to feel the way we feel. Sometimes we have to hurt, before we get better. Sometimes we have to feel love before we are broken. Sometimes, we have to allow ourselves to sink, so we can learn to climb back up.

I'm so grateful to feel. I know Dr's say there are only five senses; sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch. But I truly believe there are six. Being able to feel is a sense. However, allowing yourself to know what you're feeling...that is a talent. Allowing yourself to feel, is an open honesty.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Dear Megan,

I miss you.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Love Love Love

I'd like to say Happy Valentine's Day to everybody! If you're married, if you're single, if you're still in school and you get a cute little valentine from your entire class, if you're in high school and crushing on a classmate...HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Because Valentine's day is for everybody, because we all love with all of our hearts during one point or another. Because we'll someday know what it's like to lose a love, and to have our hearts repaired. Because one day...somebody special will walk into our lives & into our hearts, and they'll stay there forever.
May we never turn bitter for allowing ourselves to love. May we never forget how it feels to love & to be loved in return. May we always remember that no matter what happens in our lives, good or bad, that we have a Heavenly Father that loves us unconditionally (that means, No Matter What!). May we remember the ultimate price that was paid for us. So that we could live, and love, and hurt, and heal, and laugh, and cry, and sing, and dance. May we all love, and easily forgive others, including ourselves.

I love you all!

Friday, February 26, 2010

There is nothing like being left alone again, to walk peacefully with oneself in the woods. ~Knut Hamsun~

Okay, Here's the short story. My roommate and I got into a bit of a heated argument. There was some yelling, some of my words didn't come out correctly, but....I was finally able to get what i had been wanting to say for the past six months out of my head. And not just write them down to vent, but actually get them the spoken form.

I voiced how I thought she wasn't as honest as she was trying to say she was. I told her I didn't believe her when she said she would miss me because she hasn't been around the past Two months. I told her that her excuse for moving out at last minute wasn't valid with me because she wouldn't be saving money, she'd be losing money. I even had direct examples of how true that statement was. But that I didn't truly care because I was tired of the drama. I told her that six hours is plenty of time to throw away some garbage, after I had put a couple pieces of plastic on her coffee table was comparatively small to how often I had cleaned up after her in the kitchen. We argued about how often she "used" the kitchen. and guess what? apparently using the kitchen means using more than a cup & bowl/plate & utensils. We argued that I wasn't allowed to touch her stuff (Which I wouldn't do anyway, because I'm tired of helping her). I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I'm so tired of her. It's like she's so ungrateful for the help she does get. Selfish is the word one could use to describe both of us at this point. We argued about how everytime I try to talk to her on a serious level, she starts crying and I mentioned how much I hate that because nothing gets resolved. I mentioned that I think our friendship could be repaired if she bothers to show up when she says she'll show up. That was taken the wrong way, and we argued about that. I told her that she should have talked to her own friends. That I wasn't her errand girl, and that I didn't appreciate so many people coming up and talking to me about her since she seems so incapable of answering her own texts with a simple "I'm going to have to tell you later, I'm unable to right now". I said that her friends would have understood and they would have been fine with it. The argument ended with me telling her she could have been a better friend to everybody, and that She sucked as a friend. It wasn't a good conversation, and I didn't stay clam as I had planned. but at least I got everything (and then some) out of my system that I had been holding back for a good five months. I'm not happy to say that I do regret some of the things I had said, but this is how I feel. Never in my life have I had a lazier roommate. I admit wholeheartedly that I'm glad she's moving out. I'm quite happy that she'll be somebody else's problem. Since moving in she has complained about the cost of rent...or the location of the house...or that our neighbors are noisy...there's always something for her to complain about. Personally, Rent is just fine...Location of the house can't be changed, and if you don't like it, you weren't forced to move in...the neighbors aren't that loud but being above us there's going to be some noise, learn to deal with it.

In conclusion, I'm glad she's leaving. I'm sad our friendship wasn't strong enough to withstand a bit of a talk,'s okay because I don't want to be her friend anymore. I'm having a celebration saturday night. and while that may seem rude, I feel like I'll be liberated. I'll have Freedom to allow my alarm clock to actually work. I'll no longer have to play the roll of a mother! hahahaha! I'm happy. I know this post doesn't truly portray that, but I am happy.

I know I've complained a lot...but, I just have to get this out there. It's the easiest way to update everybody all at once. Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry I've rambled on too long.