Thirty. Nerdy. And thriving.

I just turned thirty. That demands some serious self reflection. My twenties were wonderful and awful and everything in between. I went to college. I dropped out of college. I worked at more jobs then I would care to admit. I lived with over 30 roommates- some I am fine with never seeing again, and some I know I will see for the rest of my life. I've had friends come in the best ways, and friends go in the worst ways. I got married. I bought a house. I had two beautiful babies. I've lost family members to old age, cancer, and suicide. Most importantly though, I discovered who I was and who I want to be. It was my time to grow into adulthood.

I wanted to do something epic for my thirtieth birthday. I decided to give myself something I've wanted for over ten years, but fear held me back. I got a tattoo. Would you like to know the only reason of why I didn't get it sooner? Because I was too damn scared of what other people would think of me. Ridiculous right? But you see- I'm the goody good, "Molly Mormon", never put a toe over the line kind of person. I don't take risks. I play it safe. I don't do anything remotely out of the ordinary. I live a simple, pure, clean life. Heck, I've never even seen a R-rated movie!! So this is SO UNLIKE ME!! But I wanted this. I wanted it so badly. I've come to realize that living a life full of fear of what others will think about me is not really living. Also, it doesn't matter what you do- you're bound to piss someone off by doing it! One of the wisest men I know, Dr. Seuss, said it best- "Be who you are and say what you feel. Because those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter." Amen Dr. Seuss, Amen!

Story behind my tattoo for anyone interested: If you have had any sort of interaction with me whatsoever you know that I am ridiculously obsessed with Harry Potter. I am part of the Harry Potter generation. I read the first book as a pre-teen, and went to the last movie in my mid-twenties. I grew up right alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I can go on and on and ON about my obsession, but I will spare you all the nerdy details. (spoiler alert) In the very last book Dumbeldore is talking to Snape and is surprised to learn that Snape still loves Lilly (Harry's deceased mother). Dumbledore asks Snape, "After all this time?" and Snape replies, "Always".  The word is made even more special by the late Alan Rickman, who played Severus Snape. He said, "When I am in my eighties I'll be sitting in my rocking chair reading Harry Potter. My grandchildren will ask me, "After all this time?" To which I will reply, "Always." Always is how I feel about this series. I will always love it. I will always cherish it. I will always be grateful for it. I want to always be brave like Harry. Always be loyal like Ron. Always be smart like Hermione. Always be kind like Luna. Always be determined like Neville. Always be hopeful like Ginny. Always.

Girl Talk

When I got pregnant I really really really did NOT want a girl. And if you ever tell Isilee that I will deny deny deny! Growing up I had terrible experiences with girls. I don't know why I always seemed to attract the "mean girls" as friends- but I never really had good experiences with my so called friends. They were the type of girls to cancel plans last minute if a boy came knocking, to gossip and spread rumors about you behind your back, to be besties with you when things were going well for you, but then drop you like a ton of bricks when you actually needed them. I even had one friend date the guy that I was crazy in love with just to prove that she could get him and I couldn't, true story. I always got along much better with my guy friends. I am not a big fan of girls. I don't like drama queens. I don't do the whole girly-girl thing. And I definitely can not stand divas. So I just didn't want to raise a girl to become those things, or even for her to have to deal with those things the way that I did.

I was hoping and praying for a boy. Boys are easy. Boys are nice. My boy is awesome, incredible, wonderful, loving, kind, hilarious, etc. I wanted another one.

However. God had a different idea for me. The weeks leading up to when we found out the gender I knew God was working on me. I am the Activity Days Leader in our ward (8-11 year olds) and I love my girls. They are sweet and kind to one another. They are polite and helpful. They are funny and adorable. The more I spent time with them the more I realized that I wouldn't mind raising a girl to be like one of them. Then that Halloween I worked my usual Pumpkin Palooza booth in Kaysville and my heart practically exploded at all the princesses, cowgirls, fairies, mermaids, etc. I realized what I would be missing out on if I didn't have a girl. Boy costumes are so boring. There were many other occasions where I knew that God was working on me, so that by the time that our big gender reveal appointment came, I not only knew it was a girl, but I wanted it to be a girl. And of course, it was. And I was excited.

The second I laid eyes on Isilee I was in love. I literally felt my heart jerk out of place when I saw her for the first time. She is perfect. I am so glad she is mine. The boys went out for a father-son date and I said "It's just us girls" to Isilee- it may seem ridiculous, but in that moment I knew that I was raising my best friend. I got really excited for that possibility. Just us girls. Isilee made the genders even in our home and I like that a lot. I am excited to paint her nails, dress her up, buy barbies and dolls and ponies and trolls- oh the shopping! Thank heavens for little girl toys and make up and dress-ups! I know the teenage years will be hard, but hopefully I can raise a kind, caring, confident girl who doesn't put up with bullies and stands up for those that are being bullied. I am excited for the future I have with my daughter and I am thankful that Heavenly Father knows what I need and doesn't listen to what I think I want.

Why Be Anti Anything?

When something is bothering me and I can't get it off my mind I know I need to write it out. It's the only way I know of to get things out of my head. This particular "bug" has to do with anti-mormons.

More then a few years ago I had someone very near and dear to me leave the church that I am a member of. He walked away from the LDS church and I held no judgements towards him for doing so. I believe that we all need to choose the path, religious or not, that is best for us. I was still friends with him and all was well. Until it wasn't. He began to let bitterness enter his heart. He started posting anti-mormon articles. He joined the protesters at General Conference. He started saying horrible, destable things about everyone and anything to do with the church. It got so bad I knew it was time to cut ties with him. Because here's the thing- you don't have to believe it anymore, but I still do. And if he had an ounce of respect for any of his friends or family that still were members, he would have never spread such hatred. This was a man who served a mission. Someone who taught the most inspirational lessons. Gave the most spiritual talks. Helped others through times of doubt. And now? Now he has turned bitter and resentful. 

If you want to leave the church, that's your business, do what is best for you. But what I don't understand is why people can't just walk away and be done with it? Why attack something you once cherished? Especially when loved ones still cherish it? Why be anti anything? I know there are people out there who have been hurt by Mormon members. Like any other church on the planet, we are made up of imperfect people. People who have agency to choose evil and hurt others. But why let it destroy who you are? Why put hate into your life like that? Again- why be anti anything? What good does that do anyone, really? There is so much negativity, hatred, bigotry, racism, etc.  in the world today, why would you want to fuel those fires?? 

Let me just be blunt for a minute. A lot of LDS people are known for being oposed to gay rights/marriage. It's a hot topic with a lot of people. I have friends who are gay. Do I love them less? No. Do I think they are bad people? Nope. Do I think they are going to hell? Of course not! Does every Mormon have the same feelings as I do and treat their gay brothers and sisters with love and respect? Unfortunately, no. Imperfect people remember. It is definitely a two way street. It goes both ways. Bullying in church is actually kind of a sore spot for me. It infuriates me that so many members of the church I participate in feel justified in treating their fellow men so badly. I'm definitely not condoning that kind of behavior. But what I don't understand, is how people can turn around and become bullies themselves? It is quite baffling to me. 

Instead of being anti-mormon, anti-gay, anti-whatever... can't we be pro-something? pro-love? pro-acceptance? Pro-kindness to everyone. Seriously. Stop being anti anything. 

Endings and New Beginnings

There is a tornado of emotions swirling within me right now. I am approaching my last two weeks of being pregnant and struggling with all of the feelings that accompany that. There is a very good chance that this is the last time in my life that I will ever be pregnant again, so there's that. Although I do not like being pregnant, I understand and am eternally grateful for how lucky I am to have the ability to be pregnant so easily without any complications or years and years of waiting for it to happen. I can definitely appreciate the miracle that growing and carrying a baby inside of you is. This baby girl of mine is a wiggle worm and I know in my heart that I am going to miss that feeling. To be able to feel something so precious is something too sacred to put into words. So yes, I am going to miss this. But there is also a feeling of excitement and anticipation to meet her. An anxiousness to finally have her in my arms and a real, tangible part of our family.

There is also this overwhelming feeling of guilt I feel for my first born. Being a second child myself, I am a little confused by this feeling, but it is there all the same. Will Leland be okay? I find myself asking this question at least a million times a day. Its been him and I for so long now, almost four years. We are best buddies. How will a second child change the dynamic between us? How much jealousy will he feel towards his baby sister when mom is having to give her so much of her time and energy? Will he digress? Will my relationship with my son change for the worse? Everyone tells me that it somehow just works. That your love as a mother is not divided, but multiplied. I pray they are right. I pray that Leland is strong enough to handle all of this change that is headed his way. It seems like a lot to ask of a three year old. I find myself lately craving to be near Leland, to soak up these last few precious moments I have alone with him. For some reason I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye to this time of our lives, but that only makes me feel guilty towards my second child. This mom guilt thing is a terrible feeling, like neither of my children can both win.

And there is that dreaded feeling of fear. A fear that is so overpowering it threatens to wash me away completely. The beast is coming. I know it is. I may have better tools to fight it this time, but it is coming nonetheless.  It is unavoidable, that beastly monster of depression that comes after birth. Postpartum depression is a foul, loathsome, demon that haunts me even before it has arrived. It nearly tore my marriage apart last time. What horrors will it have in store for me this time? There is nothing but dread in the pit of my stomach when I think about this. Can my family afford to have this creature of darkness enter our home? Are we strong enough?

Some how we will all make it through the next few months in one piece. There will be a day in the future when I come back to read this blog and laugh at myself for being such a worry wart and for not having more faith. At least, I have hope for that day anyway. I am nervous to have a newborn again. I am anxious thinking about the long nights with no sleep. I worry about my son. I am scared for postpartum depression. I am excited to meet this baby girl. I am slightly concerned about the medical bills headed our way. I am a million different emotions in one very tired and very pregnant body. So I sit at my computer in the middle of the night, too stressed out to sleep, and I type it all out. And somehow, I feel better.