The Year of Intent

Have you heard of choosing a word of intent for your year? I have a few Uzzie friends who do this. They choose one word to focus on for the entire year. People choose words like: faith, success, happiness, gratitude, etc. The idea has always intrigued me, but I hadn't ever done it. I decided to try it out this year because, why not?

To put it lightly, last year was hellish. I lost my 26 year old cousin to cancer. My aunt was diagnosed with cancer. My grandpa passed away. I faced some other very personal challenges. There was just so much sadness, so much heartache, so much loss. I am still struggling with my grandpa's death. Every once in a while it will just hit me in the gut like a sucker punch, I miss him a lot. But anyway, back to my point, not my best year. (apart from Isilee who by far was the best part of my year)

It took me a long time to choose my word. I knew I wanted a word to help me focus on being more positive, to enjoy living more, to relish the moments that I have and not take anything for granted. I thought about 'happiness' and 'joy' but to me those words represent a state of being. I wanted to pursue those feelings, so I needed more of an action word. I was googling this and that and what not, when I stumbled upon the phrase, "Delight in your day". That was it. Delight. I don't want to just enjoy my children, I wanted to DELIGHT in them. I don't want to just muddle through marriage, I want to DELIGHT in my marriage.  I don't want to just survive life, I want to DELIGHT in it.  Delight was the action word that I needed.

There is a website called My Intent Project that will actually make you a bracelet with your word inscribed on it. I knew I needed to order myself one so that I would have a constant reminder of my goal for the year, after all, I am a very forgetful person who has a lot of good intentions thrown by the wayside. (I have a stack of un-mailed thank you cards to prove it)  It may sound silly, but it has actually helped me a lot. It has become the mantra I say to myself in my head when a kiddo wakes me up at three in the morning, "Delight in your children, for they won't be little for long." I say it when I have to set an alarm and wake up early, "Delight in your day because each day you live is a blessing." I have even found myself repeating it in a busy checkout line at the grocery store, "Delight in the fact that you no longer work at the grocery store and get to go home, while this poor cashier has to deal with the angry man behind you." And yes, sometimes my mantra comes out snarky or sarcastic, but even that helps me because it makes me "delight in my sense of humor".

It is only February so my word of intent project has only been going for about a month now, but so far I am happy with the experiment. I really hate setting new year resolutions because I never accomplish them and that just makes me feel bad about myself. Having a word of intent however is easy and doable and actually seems to be working. Granted I still have my bad moments and bad days but who doesn't? This might just become a yearly thing for me, I think I like it.

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.

Ramblings of a Prego Lady

The decision to have another child was not an easy one for me. Okay, let me re-phrase that, the decision to get pregnant again was not an easy one for me. In my naive teenage years I always thought I would have four or five kids. And then the first one came and though he is mostly an angel, the entire experience was absolutely awful. He isn't awful. I was awful! When I was pregnant with Leland I lost over 60 pounds. I threw up every single day I was pregnant and every hour I was in labor. They told me that morning sickness would only last my first trimester- HA! First trimester my ass! Add the sickness to the raw emotions and mood swings and quite frankly, I was a beastly mess. After he came along the nausea and throwing up thankfully went away, but the mood swings did not. For the next year or two I was plagued with some of the darkest depression I have ever experienced. Those days marks the worst fights that Justin and I have ever had. I ruined friendships. Tested my family. I basically felt like I was drowning and I was taking everyone around me down with me.

However, I never wanted my son to be an only child. How boring would that be for him? Deciding to go through my living hell again, after finally feeling like I could breathe again, was hard. People kept asking me when I was going to give Leland a sibling, and time was ticking ever-onward, but I knew what was right for me. I didn't want my children to be farther apart in ages, I needed them to be. I needed time to let my body and mind heal. I needed to finally enjoy motherhood for a while before I entered the living hell again. And I knew that throwing up every day with a 3 year old would be much, much easier then with an 18 month old. I am so glad that I waited. Leland is much more independent these days and can be left alone for short periods of time. He isn't as needy and although I feel bad for letting his shows babysit him, it is wonderful that he can sit quietly for a while while mommy is on the bathroom floor.

This time around has definitely not been easy. But I feel like being more open about my struggles has helped a lot. I have more support. My mom and mother in law have been wonderful for taking Leland for a while and giving him a break from the barfing. I have friends and neighbors who offer to watch him on my really bad days. 12 weeks in and I am already down 20 pounds. I feel like I have entered that scary world of barely living on survival mode. I haven't been a good wife, mother, friend, daughter, sister, grand-daughter, etc. I hate that feeling of only doing what's absolutely necessary and not being able to do a whit more then that. I am frustrated. I am on two different prescriptions from my doctor, wearing sea-bands every day, and doing another number of home remedies for nausea, and still, nothing works. Being this sick for this long is both physically and emotionally draining.

I am also grateful. I feel so grateful for being able to feel Heavenly Father's awareness of me and my suffering. An example of this happened this week. On Monday I was not able to get a single piece of food down my throat without gagging. I was worried about what going so long without food or drink would do to my baby because it wasn't getting the nutrition it needed. That night I jumped on Facebook and asked my friends for advice. Not only did they offer advice, but they gave me consoling words and some of them even offered to pray for me. I was still discouraged, and hungry, but their kindness touched me deeply. The next morning I woke up and I knew instantly something had changed. I didn't feel sick. I didn't have the immediate urge to run to the toilet. I haven't had a morning like that since I got pregnant. That day I was not only able to get a meal down, but to keep it down. And for the first time, in a long time, I felt thirsty. It was a miracle. Maybe a small and simple miracle, but a miracle nonetheless. That day I could literally feel the prayers of others benefiting me and lifting me up. I have heard people say that they can feel other people's prayers for them, but I have never experienced it first hand. After such a long, hard few weeks, I really needed that win. All I really wanted was just one day, one good day to not feel sick, and I got it after one of my worst days. I think Heavenly Father knew I needed a break and He gave it to me. I feel nothing but gratitude.

I have had many small instances that buoy me up and give me the strength to carry on one more day through this misery. Watching Leland sleep. A good belly-laugh with my friend. A date with my husband. Being inspired by General Conference. They are all such small things but each one gives me the strength to go on.  One of the biggest miracles was when I had my first ultra sound. I was able to witness my small jelly bean jumping and dancing and wiggling and I don't think anything is more miraculous then that. I have life inside of me and that is amazing. I know this suffering will be a blink in time and in April I will be holding one of God's most miraculous little miracles in my arms and I'll think, "Well, that wasn't really so bad was it?" And who knows, maybe in a few years I will be stupid enough to sign up for this all over again. All I can say is, thank heavens these precious angels are worth it!

Topsy Turvy World

I live in a strange world.

A world that celebrates life on Mars,

but destroys life in the womb.

A world that values a gorillas life

over a small boys.

I live in a world where we give money

to the lazy

but ignore our vets, refugees, 

and poor.

If I believe officer's lives matter,

then black peoples don't.

Instead of creating a third bathroom,

we open the doors for all to enter.

I live in a world where celebrities,

and felons,

can run for office.

If you don't do parenting my way,

you are doing it wrong!

A world where "medical use"

is undervalued to "prescription use".

Though both can help and hurt equally.

I live in a world where "Christian"

means bigot.

And don't even get me started on

"those damn Mormons".

When it comes to sex

everything goes:

Pornography

Trafficking

Affairs

Child Molestation

One night stands

Rape

It's there, but lets not talk of uncomfortable things.

Instead, let's portray sex in our media

as fun, meaningless, and carefree.

While we are at it

lets put violence in our video games

and then wonder why in the hell

people kill people.

Let's worry about things like

bathrooms, gorillas, and parent shaming

while there our shootings, hunger,

and terrorists.

Common sense, kindness, human decency

are things of the past.

Let's take a selfie.

Precious Moments

One thing about me that you will learn quickly is that I don't really have secrets. I am an open book and I like it that way. I have been accused of over-sharing and airing out my dirty laundry for the entire internet world to see, but guess what? I don't care. Ask me a question and I will answer. I prefer honesty and real life. I like the behind the scenes more than the portrayal of perfection. So, that being said, I have recently been changing up my prescriptions a bit. This means that for the last two weeks I have entered beast mode. As most of you know I have depression, and if you didn't know, you do now. Changing medications is such a terrifying thing for me. I have had meds that have made me so suicidal that it scared the living daylights out of me! I have never been that close to death and I hope to never be so again. These last two weeks as I adjusted with the new, I have not been myself... or scary thought... maybe I was myself... ugh... I hope that's not who I am haha. I was so impatient. Angry. Irritable. I was having the worst anxiety attacks. One morning at breakfast Leland was rubbing his foot up and down my leg and I thought I was going to jump out of the window. Bottom line: It has not been a fun couple of weeks for anyone in my house.

Then this weekend happened. The clouds parted and the sun came out and glory hallelujah I feel like myself again! Today as we were driving to my in-laws, a mere five blocks away from our house, Leland passed out in the back seat. He had had a busy weekend and the poor little stink was tuckered out. I sat in the car so that he could take a little snooze because I didn't want to wake him up trying to get him out of his car seat. When he woke up though, he woke up grumpy. He was pretty upset and crying for me. I got "B" and held him in my arms, stroked his hair, kissed his cheeks, and was overcome with the love that I have for my little person. He snuggled right in to me and let me hold him longer then he has done in a long time. I soaked up every single second of that snuggle, completely cherishing this precious moment I had with my baby. I was so grateful that I felt like myself again to appreciate it fully. Beast me would have been irritated at the crying and fussiness. It was such a blessing.

Then tonight I told Leland that he could watch ten minutes of monster trucks on youtube before bedtime. I went and laid in my bed to rest my back and play on my phone. In a few moments however, Leland climbed into my bed, snuggled up against me, and started singing me his songs and telling me his made up stories. Then it was my turn to tell him some stories so I told him Goldilocks and the Three Bears, The Three Little Pigs, and Jack and the Beanstalk. He started telling me stories again mixing up all three of those stories into one grand adventure. I thought the line, "And then Jack showed his mom jelly beans and she got mad and threw them out the window and yelled 'We can't have more candy! We need real food!" was especially funny.  I laughed and I laughed at this wonderful boy's imagination and intellect. His bedtime came and went and still we laughed, told stories, sang songs, and cuddled. It was the perfect moment.

As I lay my perfect boy in his bed tonight our conversation went like this:
Me: I love you so much, Leland.
Leland: I love you so much too, Mommy.
Me: You're my best friend.
Leland: You're my best friend too mommy. And best friends should be together forever and ever.

This kid of mine. He fills my heart with joy. I am so grateful for modern day medicine that gives me the opportunity to feast upon these moments, to really dig into them and treasure them. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am going to miss this age. I am trying to soak it all in. While I love watching him grow and learn new things, I am also shouting for time to slow down and for him to stay my baby forever. It's all a whirlwind that is going too fast.

In this moment, right now, I love being "Mommy". The beast is going to rear its ugly head again, you can count on it. I will fight it again and again and again. I will be victorious. I will fight for my son because he deserves to have the kind of mommy I was today. Today was a good mommy day. Tomorrow may be an entirely different story. Life is funny like that.

Sadness

If you know me at all then you know that I feel BIG emotions. I am a very sensitive person. Growing up I always thought this was one of my greatest weaknesses, but as I get older, I think Heavenly Father considers it a strength. And if HE thinks it is a strength, then I better learn to love this quality about myself. It is not easy coming to love a personality trait that I have always despised. I am constantly wishing for thicker skin. But one thing that comes along with feeling big emotions, is the ability to have a lot of empathy for people. And empathy is a Christ-like trait. It can also be very emotionally taxing.

Sometimes I read stories on the news (we do not have TV so I follow all of the news channels on FB), and I feel so much emotion I can barely contain it. Like that dad who left his 18 month old in the car overnight in this freezing weather in just a diaper. I found myself wishing that there was a special place in hell reserved just for him. I find myself mourning with people that I have never met and it is hard to not drown in the sorrow of the world sometimes. A few weeks ago one of my cousin-in-laws lost her brother. And as I started telling Justin about it I began to cry. Not just cry. But ugly-cry, sobbing, gasping for breath. I think Justin was completely flabbergasted by the amount of emotion that was pouring out of me. Especially because this was a man that I had never even met. When he asked me why I was so upset I just started rambling, "Because think of everyone who is so sad about his death! So many people miss him and feel his loss. And he was so young and seemed like such a good man! And it makes me think of Zach (my brother) and how sad I would be if I lost him" and of course thinking about my own brother dying brought on a fresh wave of emotion. So sometimes this whole empathy thing turns me into a big goopy pile of hot mess.

This last week my cousin lost his life after a three year battle with leukemia. I regret that I didn't know this man better. After sitting in his funeral yesterday I learned more about his life and what an incredible spiritual strength he was. I mourned for his wife and three children. I mourned for his parents. I mourned for everyone who ever knew him, basically. I probably got to see him once a year, sometimes more, and he would always come up to me and call me by name and give me a hug. And although it wasn't much, it meant a lot to me. Especially because we have A LOT of cousins on the Paulsen side, but he made time for all of us. He made everyone feel special. He was a good man and he will be missed.

I felt completely emotionally drained after a day like yesterday. Crying is more exhausting than going to the gym! What is the point of this blog? I have no idea. I just have felt so many emotions this past week that I find myself sitting down at my computer and typing. Typing my thoughts. My feelings. My emotions. Today was ward conference and our bishop gave the most eloquent talk on holding strong to the Lord's commandments and our beliefs during life's storms. It was exactly what I needed to hear after a day like yesterday. The last song we sang was Battle Hymn of the Republic and it just filled my soul up with so much goodness. Why is it that a ward who barely sings during every song, practically shouts that one out?! It is amazing what that song does to a sleepy congregation! I love that song. I have a deep respect for my bishop- I know he is an inspired man. I am grateful that I have this firm foundation to cling to in the stormy weather of  this world. I used to loathe Sundays. Now I love them. I feel so rejuvenated today. It has completely prepared me for another week. I feel blessed and happy and at peace.

If you ever need a crying buddy, or just a shoulder to cry on, you know who to call now!  ;)

Bye Bye Blue

In July we celebrated Leland's 2'nd birthday, and at that time, he was still obsessed with "fishies", so we decided to buy him a pet fish. He named him Blue.

Every morning we would walk into the kitchen and I would say "Good morning, Blue." Then Leland would add, "Hi Blue. You hungry?" and we would feed blue and watch him nearly jump out of the water to get to his yummy blood worms.

And that was about all the interaction and interest that Leland showed in Blue.

Well, a few weeks ago, as I was trying to locate Blue in the tank to feed him, I found him curled up at the bottom of the tank. Uh-oh.

Leland was still asleep so I asked Justin how we wanted to handle this. After all, this was Leland's first pet. Were we going to rush to the pet store and grab a replacement so that Leland was none the wiser? Would we have an over the top funeral for Blue as we circled the toilet bowl? In the end, we decided to hurry and clean up all evidence that Blue ever existed, thinking that Leland would probably not even notice, as he really didn't show much interest in Blue anyway.

Oh heaven help me. The first words out of that little boy's mouth that day were, "Where's Blue?" I don't know that I have ever been truly sad over the death of a fish before, but that day I felt like my heart was going to break as I explained to my two year old that Blue went bye bye and was in heaven now. Those big eyes looking up at me, trying to comprehend what I was saying, almost tore me into two pieces.

Damn fish.

Leland asked about Blue several times that day, and each time I would try to explain to him what had happened in words he could understand.

We probably should have had the funeral.

That night we went to dinner at the Palmers. Leland solemnly walked up to his Grandpa Palmer and says, "Blue went bye bye..... (long pause).... but it's okay Grandpa." And then he got a much needed hug from his grandpa that hurt my heart even more.

My little guy has a sensitive soul. He cares about everyone. He is sad when other people are sad. He is worried when people get hurt. And he loves animals, all animals. Including Blue.

Rest in peace Blue. Thanks for being such a good first pet for such a sweet, tender-hearted little boy.

With a Deep Breath

Goodbye 2015.
You were not good to me.
There were glimmers of wonder and joy,
 but for the most part, I am not sad to see you go.

Life lessons were taught. So that holds value I suppose.
But through the trials and the pain,
I happily say farewell.



Guys, 2015 was hard. It was hard physically, mentally, and emotionally. It was one of the hardest years for our marriage. It was one of the hardest years for my depression. It was one of the hardest years professionally. It was one of the hardest years for me spiritually. It was just hard. Life is amazing in that through the difficult times you have these glimmers of wonderfulness that get you through the bad times. Like our vacation to San Diego, being able to attend the Usborne convention in Tulsa, and Leland's 2'nd birthday. Holidays are great, but were definitely harder this year without my little brother (he is currently serving a mission for the LDS church in Brazil). So don't get me wrong, there were amazing moments. But I feel no sorrow whatsoever as a new year is here. I am closing the chapter on 2015 with a thankful heart for my struggles, and am looking forward to 2016 with a renewed sense of hope for the future. Some people think that setting goals in January is cliche, but I need January. I hate January. But I need January. I like the newness of January. I like the idea that 2016 is MY year, and that anything can happen. I have big plans for January. Some of which include:
-Getting healthy (Justin and I joined a gym last week. Yay!)
-Writing Zach more letters (emails don't count)
-Promoting to team leader in Usborne (anyone want some free books? *wink wink*)
-Saving up some money for a vacation (more on that later)
-Getting my butt back in church (was just called as a sunbeams teacher... thank you Bishop for not really giving me the option to skip church anymore)
-Become more social and make new friends (so hard for me but I am gonna do it if it kills me!)
-And last, but not least, blog more!

So, with a deep breath, I begin a new chapter in my life.

Let it Go

I have been putting off writing this blog for a while. I was hoping that the ‘Frozen’ epidemic would die out, because I didn’t want to be one of those people.  You know who I am talking about. The kind of people who are filling up youtube with their own ‘let it go’ parodies.  Yes, I own the movie.  And yes, I own the soundtrack. But let’s be honest, I mean really honest, that movie is WAY overrated am I right? And that song… heaven to betsy… it is in competition with any of Taylor Swift’s hits for being wonderful at first but so overplayed you kind of start to cringe every time it comes on the radio. Yes, radio. I blame you for ruining some of my very favorite songs for me.

But I am getting off track. Because dissing on Frozen is NOT what this blog post is about.

This blog post is actually a TRIBUTE to the song ‘Let it Go’. (Hypocrite much?) *sigh, I know.  Because you see, there is a reason why that song touches so many people. And it has nothing to do with a beautiful Disney princess and little girl dreams. But it does have everything to do with the fact that there is something in every single person’s life on planet earth that they need to let go of.  Something they are ashamed of themselves for, something they try to hide from other people. I read one blog post that was circulating Facebook about how the song was referring to gay people and their struggle to “come out of the closet”.  And where that is all fine and dandy for them that is NOT what the song meant to ME.

You see, for me, the song described how I feel about having depression to the tee.

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside

Couldn't keep it in;
Heaven knows I've tried

Don't let them in,
don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel,
don't let them know
Well now they know

So In case you were wondering why all of this is coming out tonight, it is because tonight my husband and I went on a date to see ‘Night at the Museum 3”. This is supposed to be a funny movie, but as the credits began rolling and “A tribute to Robin Williams” popped on the screen, my chest began to constrict. I started bawling big fat tears on the way home.  It may sound so weird to other people that I was mourning the death of a man that I have never even met, but I have felt what he felt. I have felt hopeless. I have felt friendless. I have felt suicidal. And he felt all of these things. I wonder how many people knew this about him. He seemed like such a happy and jovial person on the outside “Conceal, don’t feel” – that is what was going on. But if he had just “let it go” how many people would have helped him I wonder? He touched the lives of MILLIONS of people- not only his fans, but the fellow actors that he worked with I am sure. But in his final moments, he didn’t feel like there was one single person on the planet that he could turn to for help. It breaks my heart. Not only for the loss of his life, but for me too, because I know how it feels.

In high school I was completely humiliated that I suffered from depression. I felt tainted, like if other people knew the thoughts that came into my head sometimes it would scare them off and they would want nothing to do with me. I tried so hard to live the motto “fake it ‘till you make it’. It’s how I lived my life; never allowing myself to feel what I was really feeling, keeping everything bottled up inside, trying to hide my true emotions and plaster a smile on my face.  It is a very lonely way to live though. “A kingdom of isolation, and apparently I’m the queen.”  But there is a reality to my way of thinking. Who wants to be around someone who is sad, depressed, self-loathing, and pessimistic all of the time? I really felt that I couldn’t be myself and have friends at the same time.  And I have also been on the other side of that spectrum. In college I had a friend who was so emotionally draining on me. All she did was complain about her life and vent to me. I understand that venting is part of friendship, but I needed more than that from her. I also need fun and laughter and support in MY life, not always me giving it to her. It truly was a one sided friendship, so believe me when I say that I understand both sides.

But when you are in a deep depression your way of thinking is warped. You have tunnel vision. You question everything. You are afraid to tell people how you are feeling because you fear even more rejection. So you isolate yourself. I don’t know if you do it to protect yourself, or protect your friends from yourself. Probably both.

But there is a catch to this, and it is called social media. Social media allows depressed people to seek approval from their peers, without actually having to interact with them. It is SO easy to “fake it till you make it” on social media. You post all happy stuff in hopes to hide your true agonies, because getting “likes” and happy comments makes you feel good about yourself, if only for a moment. Social media is a way to filter your life. You have complete control over it, over what people see, so you begin to create the image of what you want to be, but not necessarily who you are. The damage that this can cause is severe because your friends only see the happy stuff and may never know what is really going on.

I don’t think anyone knew what was really going on with Robin Williams either. His death was 100% preventable. If only he had gotten help and not been ashamed of himself for having this mental illness. In 2009, the last year for which statistics are available, suicide was the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S. That year, there were nearly 37,000 suicides, and 1 million people attempted suicide, according to the Centers for Disease Control. I can only imagine that those numbers have grown at an alarming rate every year.

The only way I can see to stop suicide, is to be open about mental illness. To educate people on how they can not only get help for themselves, but how to help others. People need to know the warning signs, and not always judge people from what they see on facebook. We need to talk openly about it, and shout from the rooftops that there is nothing to be ashamed of!

My name is Kristi and I was diagnosed with depression when I was ten years old. And there is no shame in that, not anymore. 

To learn more click here

Jumanji

Patch Adams

Mrs. Doubtfire

RV

Dead Poets Society

Father's Day

Aladdin

Night at the Museum 

Popeye

Nine Months

Ferngully

Flubber

FRIENDS

Hook

Hey You. It's been a while.

I realize that my last decent post was in October. Wow, those holiday months really get away from me. A brief recap:

Thanksgiving: Was spent with the Palmers and Olsens. It was relaxed and good and also spent in sickness... those nasty colds!

Black Friday: Was spent in Bear Lake having a last photo shoot with the Wright family before my little brother left for his mission. The pictures turned out great even though my little family was so sick we wanted to die. For reals though.

Saturday after Black Friday: Was spent in the Preston area. It's tradition to go up the canyon and cut down our Christmas trees on that day. Fortunately for my lazy out of shape side, Leland is too small to hike up a mountain so we sent Daddy while we played in the snow with Tenley. Uncle Tyler made a snow slide and Leland though that was pretty great. After we got our trees we headed to the bed races down Main St. and then had lunch at Arctic Circle. We were thankfully feeling much better today.

First of December: Was full of Usborne booths for me.

Middle of December: Was full of lights, Christmas merriment, shopping, and you know, regular December type activities.

Christmas:

• Christmas Eve Eve: Went to the Olsen's for dinner, Santa, games, and gift exchange. Leland was too scared to sit on Santa's lap, so he made sure that Grandma Palmer was with him.
• Christmas Eve Morning: Breakfast with the Palmers and opening lots of presents.
• Christmas Eve: Drove to Bear Lake to meet the Wrights. We got our Christmas pajamas and watched Frozen while I did some assembly work for Santa
• Christmas Day: Had an absolute lovely day at the cabin in Bear Lake. We played games, ate food, laughed, exchanged presents, told stories. It was a grand sort of day. Christmas spent in a cabin is MAGICAL by the way!

New Years Eve: Was spent at the Palmers eating pizza, playing games, and watching the ball drop while throwing confetti and blowing horns. Not everyone made it to midnight but Leland and Tenley sure did! They were troopers!!

New Years Day: Was lazy. 

Beginning of January: All I could think about was how my little brother was leaving me for two years. It sucked. I spent five days at my parents house to soak up as much Zach time as I possibly could. The farewell went really well, he gave an amazing talk that made me bawl my eyes out. Dropping him off at the MTC was seriously SO MUCH HARDER than I thought it was going to be. My eyes ached from crying so much. Not fun! Not fun at all!!!!!!

Currently: Getting a letter from Brother was very exciting and he is doing very well! I took Leland to his first movie in the theater. We went and saw Penguins of Madagascar. He didn't make it though the whole thing but he lasted an hour, loved the big bucket of popcorn, and laughed out loud twice- I would call that a success! I had a booth in Malad today. I threw my SIL a wedding shower that I think turned out really good. I always get nervous for those kinds of things but I think it was a success. She is getting married in less than a week so I am sure this week will be full of preparations for the big day! I also have an Usborne conference in SLC this Saturday that I am really looking forward to!

Other: Leland started nursery and I am way happy about that. He has some separation anxiety but for the most part he does okay. I am suffering from the winter blues...grrrrr... I hate January. Is it over yet? We are talking about taking a REAL vacation this summer and we are having fun exploring our possibilities and deciding where to go. Thoughts? I am loving my calling as an activity leader... THE BEST CALLING EVER!!! I have also decided to join my wards book club and my first meeting is this Tuesday. I can't wait because I am in need of some SERIOUS girl time. When was the last time I did something with a friend??? Um.... (crickets chirping) ... oh that's right I can't remember cause it was so freaking long ago! Friends? Hello? Are you out there??? Girl time? Anyone? ... Anyone? (Damn those crickets!) haha... but not really. Call me. 

I applaud you if you made it to the end of this. Stay Awesome!

Cutting down the tree day

Christmas Eve Morning

Christmas Eve PJ's

I just love his Mickey slippers on him

Christmas Day

Cabin Magic

The Wright Gang

The Palmer Gang

Grandma and Grandpa

Siblings

MTC drop off

First Movie

Hardships and Blessings

Tough week.

On Sunday Leland was playing with our dog Zorro and I guess he pulled his fur too hard because Zorro bit Leland on the forehead. The bite drew blood and left a hole in my babies head. To say that I was super pissed at my dog is a HUGE understatement. I went all 'crazy momma' on him cause "aint no body no where gonna hurt my babes!".  I had to make a really, really, hard decision after that- Zorro had to go. I can't have that risk in my home, I just can't. Leland's home should always be a safe place for him to be. So even though it broke my heart into literally a million pieces, I put Zorro up for adoption on some internet classifieds. Within five minutes of the ad going up I got a response from a lady who lives in Preston. She told me that they were on their way to see Zorro- within the hour he was gone.

And I cried. A lot.

Even as I write this blog post tears are filling my eyes. That was honestly one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. I loved my dog. He was my constant companion and I already feel this huge void in the house from his absence. Today my door bell rang and barking did not follow. Weird. There is no jingling of a collar. No little bum wagging its tail. No furry friend in my bed at night. I walk in the door and there is no happy little guy there to greet me. I didn't realize how much he was a part of my life, my every day routine, until he was gone. My house is a lot quieter. I don't really like it. It is definitely a hard pill to swallow. I miss my pups- he was part of the family.

And just because it was the right thing to do, doesn't make it any easier. Bleh. It just really, really sucked.

So anyway, I need to end this blog on a happy note. We have had people asking us how we are doing financially since we dropped down to one income. Justin and I have had lengthy conversations over the last few weeks about finances. Want to hear something crazy cool?! We are making it! Granted, money is tight and we aren't being frivolous whatsoever, but miraculously, we are surviving. I felt God's hand in our lives so much lately. We haven't always been faithful tithe payers, I hate to admit that, but its true. So when I left my job I made it a point to pay tithing the Sunday after every paycheck. I haven't missed it once and oh boy the blessings are rolling in! Tithing guys! It's awesome!! One night Justin said to me, "I don't understand how we are making it, Kristi. I really don't. I've done the math, our bills are more than my paychecks, but somehow, all of our bills are getting paid! How is that even possible?" I'll tell you how---- TITHING! Logically our financial situation doesn't make sense whatsoever- it just doesn't add up- but I knew God wanted me home and He blessed me for it. Sometimes I am appalled at my lack of faith when I realize that God has ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS taken care of me and given me what I needed. And we even found two gift cards to restaurants when we were deep cleaning- I guess they were Christmas presents that we forgot about? - so we even got to go on two dates- which I was worried we wouldn't be able to afford anymore. I mean, wow right?

And lastly, my friend posted a 100 happy days challenge on facebook that I really want to do and finish. You take a picture of something that makes you happy every single day for 100 days. I think it is a great idea and so invite you to do it with me! Here's the challenge if you want to learn a little more about it. 100happydays.com

The Spoon Theory

In case you don't know this about me,  I have had fibromyalgia since I was about 12 years old. All my life I have had people ask me many questions about this disease, and I always did the best I could to explain, but I never thought I adequately described what my life is like on a day to day basis. The bottom line was: healthy people just don't get it. Well last night I found this amazing article called 'The Spoon Theory' by Christine Miserandino circulating on Facebook. She writes about her experience with lupus, but basically it fits how I feel with fibromyalgia as well. If you want to know how I feel almost every single day of my life, please read the article below. She explains things far better than I ever could. It actually brought tears to my eyes with how closely I can relate.

The Spoon Theory
by Christine Miserandino www.butyoudontlooksick.com
My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?
I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn’t seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.
I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of “spoons”. But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn’t even started yet. I’ve wanted more “spoons” for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said ” No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can’t take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too.” I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s “spoons”, but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less “spoons”. I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on “spoons”, because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared.”

Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day’s plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count “spoons”.

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can’t go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my “spoons”.
- See more at: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/wpress/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/#sthash.ivq4lvCk.dpuf

The Passing of a Hero

grief (N) : a deep sadness caused especially by someones death

Everyone handles grief in their own way. Some people cry. Some people talk. And some people stay busy and try to avoid it. How do I handle grief? I write.

In my lifetime I have acquired many heroes. People I looked up to, people I respected and wanted to be like, and people who made a difference in my life. Saturday I lost one of my heroes, my Uncle Kevin. Uncle Kevin was added to my list of heroes at a very young age. When I was a very little girl, like maybe 2 or 3, I was camping with my whole extended family when I fell flat into the campfire. My Uncle Kevin jumped up and pulled me from the flames.  I should have had third degree burns covering my body, but there wasn't a single burn on my skin. It was a miracle. Uncle Kevin's quick reaction saved my life. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him. I owe him my life.

Ever since I heard the news on Saturday I have tried to grasp the reality that he is gone. It just doesn't seem real. Saturday I think I was in shock, I didn't even cry. But then on Sunday when I saw the grief that my family was experiencing it hit me like a ton of bricks. I keep playing the 'could of, should of, what if?' game. Did he know he was one of my heroes? I never told him. I should have. Did he know that I loved him? Does he know that I will miss him? Was there something more I could have done? He sent me a Christmas card this year, but I got so busy I didn't send him one back or even call him and thank him. And now its too late. Regret is entangled with grief and I am having a hard time processing it all. I wish I would have made more of an effort these last few years to keep in touch with him, but I didn't, and now I have to live with that. Friday is the funeral and boy is that going to be a hard day. My heart is breaking for his family but also, selfishly, it is hurting for me too. Uncle Kevin was a good uncle. The world somehow seems a little darker this week without him in it. Sometimes I don't think its fair that the world keeps turning and life goes on when someone we love passes away. Everything should stop for just a moment, take a pause, a break. Give us a chance to catch our breath and get a grip. But it doesn't happen that way. We are forced to keep moving forward because what else are we supposed to do?

It just.... hurts. And sucks. Sucks big time.

I love you Uncle Kevin. I will miss you. And hey, thanks for the Christmas Card. I was very touched that you would send me one. Goodbye.

It's My Pity Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

For the last little while I have been having one big fat pity party for myself.  From a paralyzed face, a concussion, getting a new car, having that car break within a week, a broken oven, broken washing machine, etc. it has been a rough couple of months in the Palmer home. We also have some family members that are going through especially difficult trials, so add all of that up and throw the holidays in the mix and you get one stressed out, tired, and overwhelmed girl. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but I never, not once felt the Christmas spirit this year. It’s probably because I was so self-involved and Christmas time is supposed to be a time of charity. Bottom line, the holidays kind of sucked…. Big time.

This last weekend I decided I needed a break from my life so I ran away to my parent’s home. It was a really nice little get away and definitely cured my ‘holiday homesickness’ that I had been feeling. Is it weird that I am 26 years old, have been away from home for eight years, and still get homesick? Anyway, on Sunday I went to my home ward for church and it was a completely different experience than I have ever had in my own ward. This is the ward that I grew up in. Most of the people there have known me since I was three years old, so I had tons of people come up to me, take a peek at Leland, tell me it was good to see me, ask how I was doing, etc. etc. etc. I felt welcomed and loved and it was so nice to have people in church actually know who I was and call me by name. Because I was feeling so welcomed and so happy I was able to feel the spirit so strongly. I haven’t been to church in…. a long time. Like a really long time. I feel ashamed writing that, but I have really struggled spiritually lately. Every Sunday morning I come up with a million and one reasons of why I shouldn’t go to church that day. But this last Sunday made me realize two things. #1. Having friends at church makes a huge difference. I think part of the reason that I struggle with my church attendance is that when I go to my ward no one talks to me. I feel like no one knows me there, and they don’t really care to. I sit all by myself in Relief Society counting down the minutes until Justin joins me for Sunday School. I feel so lonely and it is a terrible feeling to have at church. #2. I didn’t realize that I was starving my spirit by not going to church. I have been ornery and cranky and so selfish lately, and I think it is mostly due to the lack of spirituality in my life. My soul hungers for the gospel and I was denying it, literally starving it to death. I didn’t realize how much I missed church until I went back and my soul sighed with relief from the spiritual nourishment that it had received.

So this year my main goal, or New Year’s resolution if you will, is to feed my spiritual side. Because I miss church. I miss reading my scriptures. I miss praying. And I miss having gospel conversations with people. When people ask me to go to the temple with them I want to be ready to go and not have to hang my head in shame that I don’t have a current temple recommend. I have gone through spiritual ups and downs  before, and they always mark some of the darkest days of my life. You would think I would learn my lesson by now but I just don’t. Pride circle remember?

I am excited for 2013 to be over. It was a hard year for me, largely in part because I was pregnant for more than half of it, but also because we had some pretty hard trials come our way.  I like fresh starts. I look forward to the things that 2014 will bring. It’s exciting, this being able to start over thing and gaining a desire to do better, be better. 

Crash!

Tuesday night as I was leaving work I got a text from Justin telling me to drive safe cause the roads were really bad. He wasn't kidding.  The whole way home I was driving at least ten under the speed limit- which is a big deal for me and should give you a clue as to just how bad the roads were. I was driving on 600 West and was just coming to the curve in the road by the furniture warehouse when a van coming in the opposite direction hit ice and plowed right into the drivers side of my car. It happened so fast that I didn't have time to think about swerving at all. Later the cop told me it was a good thing that I didn't swerve cause if I had I probably would have ended up wrapped around a telephone pole. So anyway, I had never been in a serious car accident before so I called up Justin and asked him to come be with me. My hands were shaking so badly I knew my body was going through shock. We called the cops but they said there had been 20 accidents already that night so they would get to us when they could. I could tell my back, neck, and shoulders were stiff and sore but other than that I felt fine. The cop came and took pictures and our statements and then we were free to go.

The next morning I woke up with a splitting headache. The whole left side of my temple felt bruised. That morning we went to the Allstate, the mechanic, and the car rental place, and my head just kept getting worse the entire time. It was time to go to the emergency room. They scanned my head and determined that I had gotten a concussion during the accident. I don't even remember hitting my head but the doctor told me that my adrenaline after the crash had probably covered my head pain and that's why I didn't feel it until the next morning.  He gave me three different prescriptions but told me that the best medicine for a concussion was time. I've had to call in sick to work every day this week and have pretty much been a walking zombie. On Wednesday I went to bed at 5 pm and did not wake up until 8 am the next morning. It had been a long, sucky week and I am more than ready for this pounding headache, dizziness, and loopyness to go away. I had no idea concussions hurt this bad and for this long. Maybe I am just a big bawl baby but....... Ouch!