Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Secretly, or not so secretly, I used to be a grade A: B.
For the purpose of keeping this blog somewhat PG13...use your best imagination...
I was a BIZNATCH.
Most of my beastly thoughts were kept to myself inside my head. I was a B, mostly in high school.
"Really?" some of you are asking yourselves and scratching your head. Yes. Really.
I was two-faced to the core, but strangely enough it was only to myself I would share my B-side. I would secretly judge and I prolly thought I was so much better than every one else (not literally, but in a sense, I was so insecure...). I was terribly insecure.
On the outside, I was nice...polite, servicing, but on the inside I seethed, I hated, I hurt, I was troubled.
I felt that high school should have brought me much more happiness than it did. I had to go to a new high school when most of my super close friends all went to another high school. I was so sad and downtrodden. It took me until I was a senior to feel like I had some sort of place in the high school realm and even then, it wasn't until the last week of school I saw how many people actually knew me and cared about me. SAY WHAT?! My high school years would have been a lot easier had even a tenth of the people who looked up to me said something. I was full of so much hurt and anger because I tried SO hard to be everyone's friend...to only be left to feel empty and hollow because the cool kids didn't have the time of day for me. Oh how mightily foolish I was. How many good friends I did have...but that B inside of me....oh how I hated her.
I bet my good friends didn't know that even though I was on the Seminary Council (Oye...how to explain this one to anyone outside of the state of Utah...or anyone that isn't LDS...it is like, in high school, we got to leave on class period and go out to another building and learn stuff with other kids our age about the gospel...and as a senior I was on the planning committee of sorts. Does that explain it? I don't even think they have these anymore)...anyway, even though I served in this capacity, and needed to be close to Heavenly Father (which I was) I swore like a sailor?! At home, in front of my parents...we said the F word...and a whole slew of other things. See...B I tell you.
My B-havior lasted, I would say until I had my second child. (Hubbs would tell you otherwise that I am STILL a B...ha ha ha ha...but really I am not.) There are parts of me that could not let my insecurities go. I was prideful in a way. My kids always had to look better than everyone else's kids. They had to have the perfect hair, the perfect shoes, the perfect clothes. (Me too...minus the perfect stuff, I just had to be presentable.) This slowly faded as Memms turned one. I got to the point when really, none of that mattered.
In the past year...NONE of it matters to me anymore. How foolish and silly it was to worry about so many of these things for so many years. Who cares? Now, I shop at D.I, Kid to Kid, Savers and the like. Half the time my kids are in their jams all day...and their hair...well I am lucky if Memms gets her hair even done on Sunday. I just don't care. Simple as that. You know what? I am happy. I am not a B anymore. I don't harbor any of the insecurities in my heart and mind that I used to. I don't have the same seething anti-confidence that I once had. So stupid to waste my years in beastly silence...secretly hurting, secretly wanting to make myself feel better...to look better, to be better. It was such a tragic waste.
I used to say that if you were humble, it made you prideful. Well, I am sure in some small way it does, but dang it, it feels good to let the biznatch go...and to be free from her grasp. To be truly humbled, to focus on what really matters and the people in my life who really care and have been and will continue to be there for me for the rest of my life.
It is liberating.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
My big brother Marcus and me. Circa Spring 2006
(Photo by www.leishakelsey.blogspot.com)
All my life growing up I longed for a super close family. I think I would have done well to have had fifteen brothers and sisters. In some ways we were close, in others we were really distant.
For 9 years of my life I was the youngest child. For those same 9 years I had one person to which I could rely upon. That was my big brother. Isn't he so studly? Oh and he blogs which is totally radical.
When I was seven and he was ten-ish our parents split. It was prolly for the best, of course looking back, we know it was. But for me, I felt like I lost something, I lost my older brother.
Both of us had a lot more responsibility placed upon us. Up until that time our mama was home, she made us dinner, she saw us off to school. Then our mom had to start working, and it was up to Big Brother (further on in this post to be referred to as BB) to help get me to school safely, and after school he would help my mom start dinner. I have vague memories of this time in my life...but so many of them are full of memories with my BB. (Thanks for always keeping me safe yo...and for teaching me the street smarts when we lived in downtown SLC.)
Upon walking to school each day, we passed this little ghetto grocery store. Sometimes we would have quarters and such and would get some sort of treat or small token item out of the machines on our way to or from school.
When we moved out of our "home" and away from the only place we ever knew...things
And eventually as we each reached our teen years, we weren't as loving to one another as we had been when we were little. There were many a day when holes were kicked in walls or doors when our parents were gone to work. Tee hee. Sad, sad times.
I am thankful to have the relationship I have now with my BB. I love his beautiful wife, and their son is my little pride and joy. I never knew how wonderful it felt to be an aunt until he was born.
We have seen each other through so much.
Broken bones, two divorces, illness, death, and so much more.
I hope that my kids can continue to grow up and continue the close relationship that they have with each other.
I get a little misty when I think I won't have that huge family that I always dreamed of...
(It was 8 not 15...but dang, Heavenly Father most def knows that I am not capaple of mothering 8 kids)
...but I am thankful that thus far in our little lives I have been able to be home for them when they go to school and come home, and that I am helping to nurture their friendship and loving bond.
Mostly, I just hope that they don't put holes in my walls like we did to our mom. Sorry mom. :)
Monday, February 23, 2009
It is strange to look over the past year of my life, to see where I am now, where I have come from and to even look ahead at where I am going.
I can't lie when I say that tiny pieces of me died last year with each trial. My faith was shaken so much at times, that even now it is hard to wrap my brain around each instance. It is sad when I look at the parts of me that died, because there were so many good things about me that I miss, and it is a challenge to come to love and accept this person I have become because of the trials that we have been given.
I can look back now with new eyes and can even sometimes think, "It wasn't that bad!" Especially as I look all around me, and some of my dearest friends are having to endure many harder things than I ever have in my life and ever will.
I don't need to worry about someone trying to take my baby away.
I don't have to worry about my husband finding a new job (although if he did get a bit more work I wouldn't complain.)
I don't need to worry about a lot of things. For that I am grateful.
The parts of myself that I miss are:
The ability to drop everything for someone else. That part of me died. I feel like I hole myself up in my house and focus so much on my kids and my hubbs that it is hard for me to actually leave the house anymore. Some say this is okay, but for me, the time has past for it to be okay. I miss the person who would just DO for others. I wish I could find her again.
I miss the running girl. I await the springtime weather again so I can get outside and feel the breeze on my face and the sweat down my back. (Gross, but true.)
I miss my complete love for photography. Yes, part of me died last year. I can't quite pinpoint this one, but sometimes I would rather put my camera away in a drawer and never look at it again.
Today, I spent the morning with my sweet friend Crystalyn. She and I are struggling with a few of the same things right now. It felt so good to talk to someone else who just gets it. It was so great to talk to someone who wants to do similar things for similar reasons. Gettting out of the house and talking to her was such a boon for my spirit. (Boon? Really? Has anyone used that word since 1895?) So, even though she helped me more than I helped her, it was so good to see that I am not alone.
I went outside without a coat today. There is no better way to beat the winter blues than to take off your coat when it is above 5o degrees. This warmed my soul and told me that warmer days are coming.
And since the beginning of the year, I have made a concerted effort to take more photos for ME! What joy this has been. To reconnect with that which I love, and to see my children in a new way. I have missed them. I feel like they have grown up...and I don't know where the little babies went. For this reason I will never put my camera away.
I can't miss any more moments in self pity, fear and sorrow. I need to be here for the people that need me most. Being here for them in a physical sense is not enough, I need to give my all, every bit of me. I am trying.
It is hard, it is not easy, but isn't it all going to be worth it?
(That's what He said, although He never really said that.)
Friday, February 20, 2009
A few weeks ago, as I was sitting in church, one of my dear friends MJ who was seated behind me looks at me with big eyes and says,
"Kim! Your face is so skinny, have you lost weight?!"
I looked behind me and scanned the room, certain she was talking to some other Kim. When I finally realized indeed she was talking to ME...I laughed at her and joyously accounted to her that she must be mistaken, but thanked her for the nice compliment.
As I went home that evening, I thought about what she had said, I looked in the mirror and while to myself, the image hadn't changed, the scale said otherwise. What is the difference you ask? Well, I shall tell you.
Back in early December, after reading this article and this article (I don't care if you are LDS or not, you should read it...some good stuff!). After reading these particular articles I vowed never to put caffeine in my body ever again. ('cept for maybe the occasional Excedrin Migraine or two.)
I hadn't really noticed that it was making a difference to my body, I wasn't a heavy drinker of such beverages as the Dr. Pepper and Pepsi and such, but much more that I would have liked to have had.
At the time of my swearing it off, I began to suffer some SEVERE headaches. Let's talk, 5 or so migraines a month (please people, don't be concerned, I have discussed them with a doctor, it runs in my family, yes I look for triggers, yes I know there is medication but at this time I am choosing not to die of a stroke, because I can handle five migraines a month (I think.) So, lucky me, having migraines I was also puking my guts out five days of the month.
(Not fun. Blowing chunks NEVER recommended.)
SO...I got to thinking, heck I am prolly losing weight with all the puking, the lack of soda in my diet and my new love...which is the entire point of this post:
I love me the Progresso. I was first introduced to it by this lady. I am hooked.
Why do I love it so? Well, because there is a vast variety of "Weight Watchers" approved choices, 0 and 1 point options. Am I on Weight Watchers? H no...but if anything says Weight Watchers on it, it has got to be good right?
Holy delicious vegetables. Scrumptious. This has been my lunch of choice for days and days and days and days and days. One can is TWO servings and I eat them both. My body has never relished in so much vegetable goodness since, well, EVER!
So, if these three things can make my face "look" skinny and keep the scale down, well then I highly recommend trying it.
(Well, prolly not the migraines or the puking so much...but try the other two.)
Let me know how it goes.
And let's be honest. The entire reason I am writing this is because I am hoping
sends me a year supply of the Progresso.
Hear me Betty?
I am waiting.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
(Even went and picked up some cables so we could watch it on our new love.)
To say I am obsessed is putting it lightly. To say that this show gives me the "tickle pee pees" (or the "utz" as mrs. r likes to say (same diff)) is putting it lightly.
I just can't get enough. Are ya'll loving it as much as I am?
And is it just me, or does Sawyer just keep looking yummier and yummier?
I wish I were Kate. (Sorry Hubbs.)
Monday, February 16, 2009
J-Man: "Mom, do you think you could handle four kids?"
Me: "Uhm, heck no."
J-Man: "Do you think you could handle five kids?"
Me: "Again, heck no!"
J-Man: "What about TEN kids?" Giggle, giggle.
Me: "Dood, NO WAY!"
Little Memms, sitting across the room:
"But the people on the Brady Bunch can!"
Me: Under my breath, "Ya, cuz they had a maid."
Sunday, February 15, 2009
This is me, at Balboa Pier at 13 weeks. I look about as good as I felt. Scary.
Today I reached a point in my pregnancy that I made the last time I was on this adventure.
16 weeks and 4 days. That is when I lost the last baby. I am actually to the point of believing I am pregnant, but not to the point that I am certain all will be okay with this little baby.
See, here is the story, to give you a little background. After everything that happened last year, Hubbs and I were DONE. We knew that there was another little baby waiting to come to our family, but our hearts were so broken and spent on the challenges of the year, the miscarriage, the scamming, the failed placements, it was all too much. Amidst it all, we were still remaining faithful to the fact that maybe just maybe Father would bless us with another pregnancy, so throughout it all, with the exception of two months, we were hoping to have another miracle pregnancy. We gave ourselves until the end of the year, and if nothing happened, we would throw in the preverbial towel and call the family building quits. We had had enough.
December was the deadline, and even though it hurt deeply and terribly to know how quickly December was approaching, I knew that by this time, we would have our answer. How much we longed to just be able to move on one way or another and have some form of finality to it all. Either another child would be coming, or we could change our focus and begin enjoying another phase in our lives. It is hard to explain this to others. Close friends who knew what we were going through would question why we were giving ourselves a deadline...if it hurt so much to think of closing the door. I don't know the answer to that, other than, it just made sense and felt right.
Well, the end of November I wrote this post. When I mention starting my period EARLY instead of late. I saw that as a tender mercy, so that I didn't have to wait another four days to find out if yes, or no we were expecting. So, my period came. And then went from coming, to not coming...to being really weird. So weird in fact that when I was still bleeding the next week, I had the thought to take a pregnancy test. The test was positive.
So, in early December...the time of our deadline, we found out that we were expecting a baby. It is hard to describe how I felt. I felt shock, I felt fear most of all. Afterall I was bleeding, and not bleeding, then spotting, etc...etc... I was afraid to even hope. I was afraid to even think about it, when it was all I could think about.
Then I got sick. Way. Sick. So sick in fact I have never felt so icky in my entire life. Puking daily...sometimes five time or more...and having to time driving to the side of the road with my mouth filled with puke and not killing everyone in the car became my new pasttime. Or how about that time my husband saw me barf for the first time in our marriage, as I blew chunks all over our bathroom floor? Ew. So, even though I continued spotting, there was this sign that my body had something going on, and it was encouraging to hear from the doctor that all was well because of this.
So, I bled for the first couple of months with this baby, when it finally stopped I was feeling a lot less nervous, but not completely okay. I was still puking, so that was a good sign.
Finally, after laying on the couch for four months straight, and puking so much I was looking totally hot, er uhm...not, I started feeling a little better. (Although I am writing this at 18 weeks I am still dealing with terrible nausea, I had never experienced it this bad with my other pregnancies. Very strange.)
We had decided not to tell our kids anything about this baby. We felt like they had dealt with enough dissappointment over the past year, I couldn't bear to watch them deal with one more thing that wasn't going to happen.
We waited to tell anyone. We told a handful of our closest friends.
I can tell you, that was really hard.
I get teary now even thinking about it. I feel so incredibly reverent in regards to this baby, that I don't even want to share the news with anyone. I feel so blessed, but at the same time, feel so much sorrow for so many of my close, close friends who are longing to add to their families, to adopt, or to become pregnant, that it is hard to understand why it is happening again for us.
So, here I am, just passed this huge milestone. I am coming up on 18 weeks of this pregnancy, measuring two weeks bigger. (As you can see in the photo...which was five weeks ago (HUGE). But thankful. So utterly thankful, I am finally allowing myself to feel it. Still scared out of my mind, still praying all goes well. But for now, over a hump. And so thankful for that.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
She is in the 2-4 year category.
While your there, look around, Leelou Blogs is hosting an online baby shower and fundraiser for two tiny babies in the NICU. They need your help.
Good luck Kiara!
Hurry! One day left to vote!
My heart has been full the past few days. Tears come quite easily when I think back to Monday when it was our turn to go to the Draper Temple Open House.
Firstly, if you haven't gone, you must. Secondly, if you have any opportunity to go, you must.
The look of joy and excitement on my children's faces was remarkable, especially my little five year old. He was ecstatic to have the opportunity to go to the temple! He was so curious and happy the entire day. It was all he could stand to get through the video and onto the bus. We, of course got the oldest bus in the whole operation, it was dirty, and loud, and "scawy" (as Memms put it) but it was an adventure!
Pulling up to the temple, the feeling of peace was immediate. Walking through the long passageways of tents until we reached the entrance was more than J-Man could handle...he was ready to be INSIDE!
I loved the opportunity to hold his little hand the entire way through. His curiousity and continuing questions made me realize how important my example of the temple is to him, and will continue to be to him throughout his life. I want him to long to go back there when he is old enough. He assures me when he is 12 he is going to go and do the work he can do, until he can do more. He is thrilled!
Walking into the Celestial Room, I lost it. Being there with my sweetheart and my children, and holding them close as we looked up at the seemingly endless ceiling and the beautiful chandelier...tears streamed down my face. Oh how I long to have this little family forever and to feel such perfect love and peace forever with them. How awesome will that be?!
The last room we entered was the sealing room. Amazing, breathtaking, marvelous. The spirit was strong! Wow. I can hardly explain.
The tour ends in the adjacent church building, where there is a beautifully decorated reception hall, and they even have...brace yourselves:
We ended the afternoon with a wonderful lunch out, together as a family. How I am holding each one of my lovies closer the past few days.
I hope you have the opportunity to go.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Best kept secret of the year. Really.
I wish I had more photos from the day. Hubbs took some with his piece...I literally took like 10 the entire day. I didn't want to have to babysit my camera, and well...within the first 10 minutes of our being there it POURED. And after that I did not feel much like shooting our grody selves.
We were soaked (so much for our cute hair for pictures), our stroller was SOAKED, our food was SOAKED...but it was SO much stinking fun, so so so worth it. The kids didn't even notice the rain.
Poor Hubbs, natural curl+rain=curlz. I think he is adorable. Love his face here.
Making a wish in Minnie's well.
Memms LOVED seeing Minnie. J-Dawg not sure what to think here.
It is so cute how they just ran up to Mickey. Memms didn't want to leave him. Mickey, in his Fantasia attire even did a little "Happy Birthday" ditty for Memms. It was so so so cute and adorable. She loved him.
The kids favorite rides?
J-Man: Peter Pan (the longest line of the day)
Memms: The Matterhorn (she said she liked the one with the scary mosters the best. Way to go Abomidable Snowman!)
Hubbs: The Matterhorn (I think he liked Memms reaction to it the best, I rode with J-Man, he was a little freaked too.)
Mine: The Carousel (Because we could all ride together and the look of wonderment in J-Man's eyes as he rode was the best gift in the world)
Definitely a place of magic. It was a day of magic for all of us. So thankful to have been able to take them there!
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Photo circa early spring 2007.
...with a feverishly sick girl. I hate it when they are sick. That, and my ward probably thinks I am inactive by now, considering with all the illness our family has had since the beginning of December I have missed like 8 weeks.
Anyway, so this morning I am laying in my bed with my hott hott girl, and she is asking me to rub her legs and scratch her back, "Like this!" (The girl has a certain way she likes things done) and I say to her:
"You are SO spoiled aren't you Memms!?"
And she says back in her scratchy little voice, "No I am not, I am just beautiful."
Can't argue with that now can I?
Off to cuddle. Hope your Sunday is the best ever!