XOXO -Michal

Things I learned this weekend.

2012-02-05T22:55:00.005-07:00

My sisters are my best friends.

I have a greater understanding of why polygamy could work.

I like sleepovers.

If you buy treats for your kid you end up eating them. #dietfail

Little girls are my favorite.

I want to have at least two more.

Life repeats itself.

It’s never him, it's always me.

I am much too good at being single.

Cable has too many options.

I’m sorta into whitey tighties.

I’m sorta into tattoos.

I am really into David Beckham.

When I’m sad I don’t shower.

When I’m lazy I don’t shower.

When I’m tired I don’t shower.

When I’m content I don’t need to shower.

When I don’t shower I do my hair in a braid.

I can get Jayah to do almost anything if I bribe her with lipstick.

xoxo,

Michal

Oedipus Shmedipus

2012-02-03T08:51:00.002-07:00

This morning while I was getting ready for work I was singing along to my iPhone which was set on shuffle and the song “Don’t Let Me Get Me” by Pink came on. Part of the lyrics go teachers dated me, my parents hated me but I accidentally sang, teachers hated me, my parents dated me which made me laugh out loud and then realize…

…no matter how bad you think your life sucks, it could always be worse.

xoxo,

Michal

A penny for your thoughts.

2012-02-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

I had the following quote sent to me today.

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to just be people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey…delays…sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling burst of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”
― Gordon B. Hinckley

I have a lot of thoughts on it but I am curious to hear some of yours. I will probably write a post about it later (maybe today?). Comment or email me iammichalsarah@gmail.com.

xoxo,
Michal

Why are you calling me?!

2012-01-27T01:23:00.042-07:00

I have some freaking weird social anxieties. I think I cover them up pretty well and for the most part people think I am normal (The fact that I just typed that means no one actually thinks I am normal, right? Dang.) One of those weird social anxieties has to do with my phone. (I must note this does not happen with business calls, only with my personal cell phone.)

Let me start with I know this is totally and completely ridiculous. Buuut without fail, when my phone rings I have a mini anxiety attack. My heart starts pounding, my palms get sweaty, my face flushes. There are only a very few select people when I see their name on my screen I feel relief and let’s face it, you’re not one of them. I might have known you my whole life and still when you call I will get this flood of panic when I realize I only have four to five rings to filter through and prepare properly for all possible outcomes that answering could result in. Four to five rings just isn’t enough time to make a decision like that, so about 90% of the time I let it go to voicemail.

Oh how I LOVE voicemails. You see its not that I necessarily hate talking on the phone. I do love hearing someone’s voice, on the other end and being able to be connected even though you aren’t together. I just hate being taken off guard, in all aspects. And when I am not expecting a call and you call I think something terrible must have happened, or you must have found out I did something that I forgot I did that would obviously result in you calling to tell me you never want to talk to me again (yes the logic doesn’t make sense, but that’s the thing about anxiety attacks you have no idea why your heart is about to jump out of your chest you just know it is). Although voicemails usually solve this there is that 15 second period where I sit and wait starring wide eyed and nervous at my screen until I hear that beep and I slowly ( very slowly, I always hesitate at this part because even though I want a voicemail I still assume that if you actually left me a voicemail it must be really really bad) press the little play button with my shaky sweaty hand. Usually to my relief its something like you bought me a box of girl scout cookies because you know how much I love them and wanted to drop them off (I prefer samoas for future reference) and just like that I am back to normal.

I do grasp that this is not normal behavior because no one will ever be calling me with any news that should result in the disaster I described above, but regardless it is something I deal with.

I thought I might have found an easy way to solve this problem, it is called The Text Message. Ta da! I love texting. This is an obvious result of being part of the “eighties babies” generation or Generation Y or whatever they call it. I suspect that having easy access to computers and a cell phone since I was in diapers has probably crippled me in a lot more ways than just my failure to converse over the phone, specifically in my ability to spell and read my own hand writing, but nonetheless I am of the digital era and possibly because of that I love texting. It may be the pessimist in me but I can only think of one reason anyone would have information so important they couldn’t just text it to me and that would be to tell me that someone has died. And if that is why you are calling I’d much rather just not know…yet. Texting is wonderful because you can communicate with someone without having to stop your daily routine. This works out great for me because I work full time and I have an almost four year old who, when I get home, requires my attention in a loud way. Sitting down to have a quiet fifteen minute conversation is about as realistic as me looking hot in a pair of skinny jeans.

So I text, and I text a lot.

Recently though, I have discovered that just because I like a constant drip of information coming in to that amazingly awesome iPhone of mine doesn’t mean those I associate with do also. You see if one chooses to associate with others who are of an older (or younger) generation, one needs to understand their preferred communication style to avoid conflict. For example, when a man I am crushing on decides to take the bait and ask me out, he calls me, like a gentleman. But if I am not expecting his call I get set off on this whole mess of unnecessary emotion which pretty much ruins any chance of having a decent phone conversation and sealing the deal. But if he calls and I don’t answer after about three tries he gives up. (I have let one to many slip away).

I was thinking about this very problem of mine the other day when I got the answer from a very sweet man. He text me and asked if I wanted to go out, then immediately realizing his "mistake" sent another text asking if he could instead call me first. Is your mind being blown like mine was? It should be.

Problem: Michal is crazy and can’t talk on the phone with out proper warning.

Solution: If you want to call and talk, simply send me a text that states so before hand. I promise I will answer.

A fair amount of warning equals preparation time which equals No Anxiety which equals a much larger possibility of you and I hooking up.

Wait hold that thought…This just in:

My iPhone microphone is broken so even if you call you won’t be able to hear me in my full on panic mode.

Isn’t that wonderful how God solves our problems for us?? I am so blessed.

xoxo,

Michal

If you think that sounded bad you do not want to hear me describe what I am like when someone shows up at my house unannounced. Yikes.

Five mini posts

2012-01-24T18:45:00.026-07:00

It’s funny because it’s true.

Last night after finishing our nightly routine of brushing our teeth, sitting on the potty for 20 minutes to make sure Jayah peed every last drop and trying to control my acne with experimental face washes, we knelt down to say our prayers and with her face just inches from mine Jayah looked at me and said, “Mom you are soooo beautiful…with make up.” I guess our weekly discussion on honesty has sunk in, now were are moving on to tact.

Seriously when I grow up I want to be skinny.

I was asked not to talk about this one so I will be vague. But some “people” of mine and I are doing a biggest loser competition. There is quite of bit of money involved and I plan on winning it. I have until February 1^st to gain as much weight as I can before the first weigh in, ( doughnuts here I come). After that I am going need all the tricks I can…does anyone know someone who sells cocaine?

Saving my pennies.

So this one is a bit embarrassing to talk about but when has that stopped me? Sometime during the process of my divorce I bit into something hard and I felt like I broke my teeth off. After the screaming and crying stopped I found out that I had indeed broken something off and that would be two filings on the left side of my mouth, one on top one on bottom. After the initial pain went away I forgot about them because I had other things to worry about, plus I didn’t have dental insurance. That was a bad idea. A few months ago it came to my awareness that thanks to Obama and the fact that I am quite young I am still covered on my Father’s insurance…so naturally I went to the dentist. I brush and floss twice a day so everything looked dandy…except…where those blasted filings had fallen out. Here is the embarrassing part…I have to get two, YES TWO, root canals and according to the amazingly nice Dr. Smith in the next few months or that pain I felt the first time will be back. I really like Dr. Smith, he is one of those people that when you break down and start sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of his place of business because there is no way you could ever afford to get your face fixed, just stands there quietly until you are done and pats you on the back and says convincingly, “Don’t worry we will take care of you.” He actually was so convincing I almost asked him to hold me for a few minutes while I gained composure (needy much?). I have scheduled and canceled the procedure two times now because even after insurance and Dr. Smith’s Friends and Family 30% off discount, its going to cost me a whooping $1,300.00. That's a lot of money for some teeth you can't even see, I mean come on if I am going to drop dough like that at least make my smile less crooked. Looks like I am going to have to start selling my body again. You know the worst part is my face rarely even hurt but now that I know these little evil holes in my teeth are there I can barley eat because of the achiness, wait a second maybe I will win this Biggest Loser contest after all.

So you say you like movies.

I do like movies. In fact I love movies, television, mini series, you name it I love it. Buuut I have never claimed to be a movie buff. I want to be a movie buff, I wish I was a movie buff but I am not. I just have not been exposed or taken the amount of time required to study movies to be called one. That is why whenever I get the chance to sit in a room full of hilariously brilliant people for 24 hours and watch movies...I'm in, no questions asked. This past weekend I participated in a 24 Hour Movie Marathon and it rocked my socks (and yes they are men's wool socks). There is something about gathering together with people who share the same passion for sitting in front of a screen and watching a story unfold while creating your own version of Mystery Science Theater that resonates so deep with in me. By the end the room might not have smelled the freshest, and 90% of the attendee’s restless leg syndrome kicked in after about hour four but all in all we hung in there and made it through some of the worst movies I will ever see J

Sundancing with anxiety.

Speaking of movies Sundance is going on right now. If I had it my way I would spend everyday, all day going from movie to movie partaking in the pretentious goodness that all of those film makers gathered up in Park City have to offer. But alas I have a root canal to save for so I am not there. But I am going to see a film tonight and with that thought my anxiety just kicked in because someone will be here any minute to pick me up…

xoxo,

Michal

Pet peeve number 326

2012-01-12T18:18:00.005-07:00

People who think and act as if they are cute, hot, or more attractive than they actually are.

My mama always said, "The things we hate most about others, are things that we hate about our self."

I think after reading the first two sentences you can see where I am going with this but if you enjoy seeing my misery please continue reading.

I went out last night to the Lakers vs. Jazz game. (Jazz lost, but it was a really fun game to watch because it was so close. Also we were row 13 which mean I could actually see what was going on. Thank you Darcy)

I got the invitation kind of last minute, or more I didn’t see the invitation until last minute (stupid phone) which meant I had already morphed into after-work-mommy-mode. (Hair on top of my head in a messy bun, jeans and a t-shirt and little to no make up). On top of that it was my niece Emily’s birthday, and Wednesday night which meant Happy Endings with Johnny (that sounded so wrong when I read it back to myself out loud) After weighing the pros and cons, I decided that the opportunity to watch the Jazz dancers shake it was of course worth it. This gave me a total 3.6 seconds to throw on a more acceptable shirt, re-apply some mascara, grab the babes and the cupcakes and head to my mom's to squeeze in some of the birthday party. Right before we rushed out the door I stopped Johnny and asked, “Do I look okay?”

Now this may seem like a loaded question to you, what else could he say but you look amazing, but this is my Johnny we are talking about, the one person who always tells me when my ass looks fat, so I trust him to be honest. He reassured me that I looked perfect (first warning) and we were out the door.

We arrived at my mom’s house where several of my siblings had already gathered, after I let them all know I am leaving a bit early for the game I got a few, grumbles and one, "Well don't you look cute." (second warning). Once my mom returned home we escaped to the back and a few minutes into our conversation I snuck in a quick, “Do I look alright, I didn’t have much time to get ready?”

To which she responded, “You are going to a Jazz game?” I nodded. “Then you look perfect.” (Third and finally warning).

I didn’t really think about how I looked the rest of the night. When I was in high school there were five teenage girls in the house (that's a lot of Tampax) and so there was a little motto my dad tried to bestow upon us, “When you are in front of the mirror do your best to look your best, then once you walk away, forget what you look like.” Being the extreme insecure and neurotic type I rarely succeed at living by this motto, but last night the company I was in made it easy because really how can you worry about how ugly you might look when you are too busy laughing? (I love laughing). Like I mentioned above, the game was awesome to watch, the Jazz dancer’s legs were amazing, and the night even ended with Muddy Buddies so I kind of got my own happy ending.

After I was dropped off, I plopped down on the couch next to Johnny and our two sleeping babes with a that-was-an-great-night sigh. Would you like to know what I discovered next? Apparently when people say you look cute what they really mean is, “You don’t have time to make yourself look any better so why stress you out by telling you how hideous you are.” And what my dear Johnny and Mother meant when they said perfect was, "This is a perfect opportunity to find out if he can look past your uglies."

I was horrified.

There I had been, out with a damn sexy man with my Tinkerbell hairdo, acting like I was cute enough to be sitting next him!! When in fact I wasn't. Oh the agony... Not to mention that all night I had been freely giving out commentary on things like miss seven’s Bucky the Beaver teeth when I was clearly hovering at a low four myself.

What's that they say…He who lives in a glass house shouldn’t throw stones…? Last night was a perfect example of me standing in a glass house, at night, with the lights on, clear for everyone to see.

If there was any hope that I was going to fight off my agoraphobic tendencies that hope is now gone. This fat little four is boarding up her windows, and locking the dead bolt.

One should examine oneself for a very long time before thinking of condemning others.

-Moliere

I'm all out of stones. Lesson learned.

xoxo,

Michal

Facebook: The antichrist?

2012-01-11T16:34:00.011-07:00

If I am in a bad mood you can almost guarantee it’s because of one of two things, a) I tried that one pair of jeans that fit me when I was 14 and (of course) they still didn’t fit (aka I’m hungry) Or b) I saw something on The Facebook.

I don’t (can’t) get on the blasted thing at work and I rarely have time to actually sit down at home and get on, so really the only time I look on it, is on my stupid cracked iPhone. Do you know how hard it is to get accurate information on that small broken little screen? It just makes me even more crazy. (PS in case for some off reason you had any doubt left… I am crazy). I am thinking about deleting the app off my phone, which of course really means I am going to complain a lot about it but actually not take any action to improve my current emotional state. Because isn’t that what we women do?

Want to know something I kind of hate about Facebook? When two people who are “lovers” (or whatever) express their love on Facebook. For example: “Hey babe I just wanted to let you know how much I love you. Have a good day.”

If you wanted to let your babe know how much you loved them why don’t you do something that shows them how much you love them, or call/text and tell them you love them, or get them a little something that shows you were thinking about them? No, what it sounds like to me is you wanted everyone on Facebook to know how much you love them. Guess what...We don’t care.

Publicly expressing appreciation for someone is fine and very acceptable, and I even do it sometimes. I just hate when two people who obviously have a close relationship do it all the time, something about that makes it feel cheap. Like they are trying to prove to everyone else how much they care. See I said it on Facebook.

Of course this is all coming from someone who declared that even if I get married I probably won’t change my Facebook relationship status. The truth is I am probably just jealous that no one ever announces their love for me via Facebook. Yes I am sure that is it. Hey future Mr. Forever please disregard this entire blog post because chances are if you don’t loudly express your love for me all over the internet, weekly, I will probably end up making you sleep in the couch.

Oh my goodness it is exhausting being a girl…oh yeah so today I read something on FB and although it was a very minute thing it put me in a mood so um…I’m going to go eat my depression now.

xoxo,
Michal

Chances are...

2012-01-09T22:59:00.003-07:00

...if you love messy hair and big hips...

...then you'll probably also love me.

xoxo,
Michal

Mr. Darcy

2012-01-01T19:33:00.004-07:00

I talk a lot about wanting a man in general, but I rarely give out details of the men I am currently in the state of wanting. This is for two reasons.

One: Just because I like to let the world know about my intimates doesn’t mean they like their briefs hung out for the neighbors to see.

Two: If I mention the men I am dating on my blog then all the men I am dating would know about the men I am dating, and well, that’s just not good for business.

That being said, I have decided I would like to introduce to a friend of mine. For privacy sake let’s call him…Mr. Darcy. (in regards to reason number two...well you will soon see)

Aside from my complete lack of originality, I have decided to call him Darcy because he is a gentleman who is brilliant and witty, candid and direct, (Honesty is a greatly overrated virtue. Silence in this case would have been more agreeable.) handsome and sexy, assertive yet respectful , and maybe, possibly, a bit haughty, and every so often slightly arrogant.

Overall a man any woman would clearly desire.

On top of all of that I call him Darcy because you see, this man is so far above me or rather I am so far beneath him that for me to even fathom the idea of us ever being an us is borderline delusional. Mr. Darcy and I are from two very different worlds, the meshing of which would be quite impossible. I know this because (much to) early on we had one of those uncomfortable conversations regarding marriage and how it was not in our future (thank heavens we discussed it because you know A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. And we wouldn't want that happening).

So you may now be wondering why on earth I would even bother to mention him at all since we won’t be getting married and I’m not “the girl of his dreams”. Well you see, my dear Mr. Darcy has become one of my favorite go to men for movie nights, quick banter, stimulating conversation, and lots and lots of laughing and because of that, blogger world, I may mention him every once in a while.

Then again I might not.

Mr. Darcy: So this is your opinion of me. Thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty...in admitting scruples about our relationship. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?

No sir, I could not. J

xoxo,

Michal

happy birthday to me..

2011-12-29T18:53:00.009-07:00

"Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep alone under the stars. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no whenever you don't want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees. Decide if you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you're doing here. Believe in kissing."

-Eve Ensler

It's almost my birthday, as in two days from today (one day if I was living in Samoa) The awesome/awful thing about my birthday is it’s the last day of the year. The awesome part is there is always a party, and the awful part is it’s never for me.

Because my birthday falls on the last day of the year I always make a few goals/resolutions to try and achieve by my next birthday. I know, I know I am brilliant; you guys should try it. And if you don’t want to use your birthday as a marker you are free to use mine. (In case you were wondering what last year’s birthday goal was, it was to run a marathon and get skinny. If you are unsure of my progress you can see here that I had to put them on pause for a while. particularly the skinny part due to the necessity of picking up that coping skill called: eating my feelings.

A few days ago I was having one of my daily whining sessions with Johnny (my brother) and we (meaning he) came to the realization that on my birthday I will be turning a whopping 23. Yes you read the correctly. Twenty-three. (ohmigosh! I know, right?) I am just a wee child.

The realization was that maybe I grew up a little too fast or I have be playing the role of The Adult for too long. Part of that might be because I got pregnant the day after my ovaries sent signals to my brain saying they were now able to make a baby, and having a mini-me running around requires one to grow up. But that aside, even as a child I would prefer to sit at the grandparent table at Thanksgiving. I met with my bishop every week starting at age ten until he was convinced I could receive my patriarchal blessing prior to me going into beehives. I worried about insurance rates, inflation and what they would write on my tombstone. (You might think I am exaggerating for effect but I distinctly remember having an anxiety attack the day after my baptism because I wasn’t sure how to fund my retirement). I love make believe but for some reason, unbeknownst to me, I have this idea that I have to always be moving forward. in middle school I would glance at my tinkerbell snowglobe wish I could escape to Neverland and then hurry to my weekly meeting with my school counselor to see what I needed to do to graduate early. It wouldn’t be too far fetched to say I am a bit of a neurotic freak, who likes the fast track.

The problem, I discover this year, with having the above mentality is that just because I have the illusion I am moving forward doesn’t mean I actually am. I may have been checking things off the list but what good is that if I am not fully experiencing or learning anything from it. (What I wouldn’t give to go back to high school and take advantages of the learning opportunities. You mean all these class are free and I get to spend eight hours a day reading, thinking and asking questions?) The best thing about this past year is through my various little adventures I learned that rest stops are an essential part of the trip. You see, just because I am moving forward fast doesn’t mean it’s the right way. If I am going 83 miles an hour I may read a sign wrong and end up in Pocatello instead of Salt Lake.

One of the beautiful things about this life is when you are going no where fast God loves us enough to put up road blocks forcing us to stop. Sometimes they come in disguise as a bad cup of coffee that doesn’t agree with your body, or a tumor in your hip, ora guy breaking your heart only to move on to smaller and skinnier things. Maybe it's a divorce, or a lonely Christmas-eve, or an unexpected pregnancy. But once you grudgingly stop and get out of the car you realize you would have missed the only gas station in 200 miles that carries muddy buddies, plus you really had to pee.

(I am assuming that at this point in the post you are all probably thinking Yes Michal, we’ve heard this before it’s about the journey not the destination blah blah blah…So know this, I do realize I am writing on a topic that has been discussed and discovered many times over, but the point of this post is me discovering I am only 23! I allowed to not know anything about life, and I am allowed to discover that these little trite sayings sometimes are true).

Okay back on track..

This year for my birthday my goals are as follows: I am going to say no when I know I should, without being afraid. I will say yes with confidence when it feels right. I will practice accepting when people adore me and understanding why they might judge me. I will fall asleep unaccompanied while counting the stars; and I will ride the TRAX without a chaperone. I may just take a trip to anywhere and not plan one single detail, (I reserve the right to plan every single detail of said trip). I will pull over every chance I get and look for the hidden muddy buddies.

Most importantly…This year I will treasure my silence…my privacy…my solitude.

xoxo,

Michal

PS I do believe in kissing, I do, I do.

Who need's Cocaine?

2011-12-24T23:10:00.009-07:00

Christmas is my favorite time of year, but I have to admit I was really nervous (almost dreading this one). This was the first Christmas since my parent’s divorce has been final, the first Christmas since my dad's marriage, and the first time since I became a mother that I didn’t have Jayah Christmas-eve or morning. As soon as the calendar hit December 1st a funk kind of came over me. When my attempts at self medicating didn’t work, mostly through movies and food, I decided going through the motions would be the next best thing (aren’t we women so good at that…pretending and eating?) Doing our annual Christmas activities helped, i.e. my mama’s Santa party, our breakfast for the homeless, my sibling secret santa party, seeing The Best (Worst) Christmas Pageant Ever, The Nutcracker, The Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas performance oh and this year I added Handle’s Messiah for the first time (I saw two versions, one was with a Gospel flare, the other was done by a choir a friend of mine was in) It was a good December but even with the all the good music, parties, movies and gaing o f65 pounds every day I tore a paper link of my Christmas count down chain my chest got a little tighter.

I woke up this morning (Christmas-eve) and there it was staring me in the face almost screaming…You. Are. Alone.

…and I felt very alone.

Through the rest of the day I took this feeling around with me, although I could have chosen to be a more active participant in the festivities I didn’t, I stayed aloof, distant and pensive. Thinking mostly about…my poor lonely self.

Later I went to my mama’s house to “help” her wrap gifts (meaning I wanted her to validate me in my sulking) as I walked in the door, I heard Christmas music playing and I saw my mama in a Christmas mess, all alone, working and smiling. I knew she had been awake for several days and today she had been working non-stop, I asked her where she was hiding the cocaine and she said, “I think love activates the same part of the brain that cocaine does. I don’t need cocaine because I have so many kids to love.”

How could I have really missed the whole meaning of Christmas? Because I was so focused on no one loving me I forgot how many people wanted or maybe even needed to be loved. How many opportunities I may have missed of people around me who felt that exact same way I did, all alone, that I could have loved? I am sorry to anyone who felt my coldness today. And I am grateful to my beautiful mama, to me, you are Christmas.

xoxo,

Michal

When I find a man who:

2011-12-18T22:09:00.003-07:00

requires movie marathons,
kisses me on the forehead,
cherishes a child’s words,

finds me as hilarious as I find him,

calls his mother precious,

takes me on road trips.

I will marry him.

xoxo,
Michal

That Child Of Mine.

2011-12-11T23:31:00.020-07:00

Everyone loves their kids, and thinks their kids are cuter, smarter, special (er) than everyone else’s kids. I am a realist, I understand my kid is only better than your kid in my eyes because she is mine and that no one else really cares…yet still, she does some things that I just have to share. So here are five things Jayah.

Our favorite story is Peter Pan.
Really my favorite story is Peter Pan and therefore Jayah gets exposed to every version I can get my hands on. The other morning I woke up to her staring at me (this is rare because this girl will sleep until noon if I allowed it. Believe you me; I count this as a blessing since I am soooo not a morning person). I smiled and said good morning and she said, “Mother would you like a kiss?” Of course I said yes and leaned in for one. Instead of kissing me, she reached her little hand out and on her finger was a thimble; she placed it in my hand, smiled and jumped out of bed.
On Saturday I picked Jayah up on my lap and kissed her and said, “You’re my little ball of light, my Tinkerbell.” She reached up gave me a kiss on the forehead and said, “And you’re my Wendy.” She then walked away singing, “I have a mother, at last I have a mother.”

Snoring.
Last week we were sleeping in bed next to my big beautiful down syndrome sister Mary. Jayah woke me up at about 2 am terrified. When I asked her what the matter was she whispered in a frightened voice, “Why is Mary growling?”

The student becomes the teacher.
The other morning we were late for school and work (like most days) and she was taking her sweet time putting her shoes on, after the third time of me telling her to hurry, she stopped what she was doing, looked at me and slowly said, “Mama, you need to be patient with me, I’m three.”

Good cop bad cop?
Jayah wants a sister really bad and so we play games all the time where I am her sister Isabel. For some reason Isabel has a really awful English accent. A few days ago Jayah got into some of Grandmother’s make up and made a mess of it. I took her to time out and was about to start our usual dialogue of why she was there, what she should have done and what should her consequence be when she said, “Say it in your sister voice, Isabel sounds nicer when you’re being mean.”

Counting her blessings.
I showed Jayah a video of a man named Nick Vujicic who was born with no arms or legs. I explained how he learned to do everything we do even though he didn't have any limbs. For the rest of the day she decided to not use her arms to see how hard it would be. After a while she decided it would be very hard and she said, "I'm grateful I have arms."

xoxo,

Michal

May the odds be ever in your favor..

2011-12-08T19:37:00.007-07:00

So I finally caved in and joined the rest of the female young adult population in

America

and read The Hunger Games Trilogy. It wasn’t that I was putting it off on purpose, I just have a stack full of books I am always in the middle of reading (RFK, The Great Gatsby, Little Women, Single Mom Seeking, you know the classics). I had just thought it was another Twilight type of series and when I read those books I ended up getting pregnant and I wasn’t quite ready for that again. (Note to all men I have been in contact with the last two weeks: I just finished reading all three books so it just might be our fate for you to impregnate me, marry me and then realize it was all based on the love I was craving from a guy named Peeta.)

Once I started, I got sucked in. I know these aren’t brilliantly written novels but I really enjoyed them. It took me a week to read the first book, The Hunger Games, two days to read the second book, Catching Fire (first weekend of having a broken leg) and three days to read the third book, Mockingjay. Here are a few of my thoughts:

· I liked the books in the order they were released, meaning my favorite was the first, second in line was um…the second book and my least favorite was the third. I think that might have a bit to do with the fact that I tried listening to the third book via Audible.com and can I just say it SUCKED hard. Who ever was narrating the freaking thing had the whiniest voice ever, and I couldn’t stand it. I only lasted about three chapters before I switched back to the Kindle.

· I kind of loved the fact that the book started out with her trying to save Prim and then Prim ended up dying anyway. Does that make me sound cold hearted? I thought that was a good choice for Collins to make because it made it feel more real. Life is hard and people die and you can’t always be the hero. It ended happy while reminding us that real life happens along the way.

· I went shopping at the mall while in the middle of the second book and the thought, “Oh my goodness, all these capital people.” totally crossed my mind. Yes I am that big of a loser.

· Gale: I was never a fan of Gale. Its not that I hated him its more I was just indifferent to him. The whole love triangle thing didn’t really do it for me. But I do wonder how that awkward visit might have been when Gale finally came to see Katniss at District 12 and she was pregnant with Peeta’s child?? Sorry buddy you were too busy blowing up mountains, ya lost the girl. I think most of his appeal was supposed to be that was the traditional provider man who was ruggedly handsome. Oddly enough that is usually my type, but since Katniss didn’t really need a man to shoot the deer for her it worked out she ended up with a funny witty, amazing with words and super cute guy to balance her. (Wait a second this seems like it was planned out) PS I think my type just switched, if Peeta could grow a beard he would be perfect.

· Peeta: What can I say about Peeta, obviously we are all going to fall in love with Peeta, that’s is how he is written. Every girl wishes she could have a Peeta, a man (er…boy) who has been in love with her his whole life. That would do anything for her. That is funny, and charming, a deep thinker who is kind and aware. and confident in his self identity, that always puts her best interest above his own. Oh Peeta how I love thee!

· Katniss: I spent the last three days whining about how whiny Katniss became in the end of the second book and the entire third. I mean seriously why did she think she was so important and every thing was about her, its not like she was this huge deal to the revolution or like she had a trilogy written through her perspective about her experience or anything… Okay maybe I shoudn't be so hard on her...she probably had Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome after all. This is how my younger brother described her to me before I read the books, “At first I didn’t think she was very cute, but then after reading a while and getting to know her she got a lot hotter.” Out of the mouths of teen boys.

· And now we come to Haymitch: I am going to admit it, he was one of my favorite parts of the books. Yes, I have a huge crush on Haymitch. Part of it is I have this fantasy of being with an older man with a tortured soul but a bigger part is I have this fantasy of being with Woody Harrelson (who is playing his character in the film) Yeah pretty much I have a thing for Woody Harrelson. Yes, its true that this Harrelson has a bit longer hair and typically I have preferred the White Men Can’t Jump, Indecent Proposal, or Kingpin version of Harrelson but my motto is Any Harrelson is better than no Harrelson. (Did I forget to mention Zombieland Harrelson? Oh the things I would do to him…) There was a part of me at the end when Haymitch is taking Katniss back to District 12 that I hoped they would end up one night in each other’s arms driven their by their mutual brokenness, comforting each other and then getting it on and deciding to love each other forever… But then Peeta came back…and well what can ya do.

· I will admit the hot scene on the beach (in Catching Fire) when Peeta and Katniss go at it briefly, made me want a man (Haymitch) right then and there…even though nothing really happened I think I might have blushed while reading it.

· My favorite line from the book: “They play in the meadow. The dancing girl with dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs.” The thing we all struggle with as parents, what will life be like for our kids, can I protect them, give them the life they deserve? The answer is usually no, but I am glad it ended this way. Peeta and Katniss and their two beautiful babies loving each other and taking a step forward together into the unknown.

So after two weeks of being lost from the real world I am back, and I decided all I want for Christmas this year is to hold hands the way Peeta and Katniss did, only with a man who’s older and who looks more like Haymitch.. oh and a Kindle Fire

xo,
Michal

His bed or hers?

2011-12-06T20:15:00.004-07:00

After I broke my leg I decided to stay at my mother's house until I could get around better. You would think that I would have mastered the whole cripple thing by now, not true. I pretend that the reason I am staying here is because I live in a basement and stairs and me don’t get along (I have fallen down the stairs at least once a day since this thing…I know.) but the real reason is for Jayah. You see when you have a three year old who’s brain never stops, she can get frustrated with her mama's immobility. She said to me yesterday, “Mama why are you always sick and broken. Can’t you just get better so we can play?” Um…sad face. Working on it. (Maybe skiing wasn’t worth it after all.) She loves my mother’s house though because there are puppies and people and much better food.

Speaking of my mother, she is pretty amazing, not only am I staying at her house but I am staying in her room and sleeping in her bed. I can imagine how frustrating this can be at times, to have all of your personal space invaded. I have completely taken over one of her big green chairs which is covered with my clothes, boots and makeup. I am blessed to have such a selfless mother, who is always willing to give up anything and everything when one of her kids has a need... For the last bit her bed as consisted of me, Jayah, my sister Victoria, my mother and on and off my sister Mary. This is my happy place. Sleeping in a bed full of people I love. I guessing that growing up with six of my siblings to a bed will do that to you.

I have been a fan of parents and children co-sleeping since forever. I was blessed enough to nurse Jayah until she was 15 months old, when she was a baby it wasn’t really a conscious choice, its just what we did. It was more for me not for her. You see, I worked full time so I needed as much sleep as I could and there was no way I was going to be getting up frequently to walk into a separate room to nurse her. But those precious moments every night were so important I couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

Now, since Jayah and I share a room we also share a bed. Cuddling up to her every night is one of my favorite things. I know co-sleeping with your kids can be kind of controversial, but for me it’s been one of the greatest joys of motherhood. The older she gets the more grateful I am for all these nights I get to have with her. Waking up in the middle of night to Jayah spooning me is going to one of my favorite memories.

So last night as I lay there between my mother and my honey girl and start counting my blessings of how wonderful it is, I think I wish it could always been like this. But then I stop…wait no I don’t. I mean I want to get married someday right? That’s when my over analytical brain kicked in and started the anxiety. I do want to meet Mr. Forever and fall in love and get married. But…if I do, will my comforts of co-sleeping with my baby Jayah be over?

Its one thing when a mommy and daddy and their baby (ies) sleep in the same bed but wouldn’t it be inappropriate to consider having a grown man sleeping next to me and my baby girl? I have always pictured happiness as a king size bed with three (to six) little girls (maybe a boy) squished in between me and Mr. Forever. But in my story Mr. Forever didn’t turn out to be the father of my first baby…so where is she in that picture? Obviously if I do get married part of the deal would be me sharing a bed with my new husband, but I wonder will I feel this pull to go sneak in and sleep in her bed with her?

And what about new babies? I fully understand Mr. Forever will love his babies differently, they are his. But what I fear is the king size bed picture coming true and there we are all lying together Him, our three babies, me and then…Jayah there but separated on the outside not just on the bed but in life. Me and her. Me and them. Never quite fully together?

I know that worrying about how I will balance a fictional Mr. Forever, our babies and the light of my life, Jayah, right now seems kind of silly. But the thought is so scary I almost don’t want to get marriedor have any more babies. Its quite possible that the reason I haven’t met Mr. Forever is that I am not mature enough to know how to balance men, children and mixed families. The truth is if I stop focusing so much on that missing piece and the how it will work then maybe I can start enjoying more fully the blessing of having time to learn and grow while loving that precious little girl.

Do you know what I am going to do tonight…? I am going to crawl under the covers and cuddle up to Jayah, kiss her over and over again good night and then pray that if I am blessed enough to find a man to marry that he will be a man who is mature and kind enough to every so often let Jayah crawl up next to him on that big king size bed and fall asleep and that he will be understanding enough on those nights when I just can’t take it, he'll tuck me into her bed.

I mean do you blame me? How could you not want to fall asleep next to this little ball of light?

xoxo,

Michal

Once there was a girl who went skiing.

2011-11-26T19:22:00.000-07:00

There has always been a reason I haven’t gone skiing, or boarding or mountain biking, or bobsledding. Because the risk is too high. Sometimes I feel like I am Ben Stillers’ character from Along Came Polly, always assessing is this really worth it?? And usually determining it isn’t. I think I may have got that from my brother John. Its not that we are boring (maybe we are) its just if there is a chance I will have to pay hard for the short lived fun why do it…? I am a mother after all and I need to be available to take care of that little tasmanian devil of mine. But then I got a tumor, (well really then I got divorced). I started thinking I should try more things. So for the past little while when an opportunity came up to do/try something (skinny dipping, hiking, biking, skydiving, skiing) if my body would allow it I was doing it. Which leads me to the point of this post. I have a story for you.

Chapter One: Skiing.

I have never gone skiing or snowboarding. Last December my brave little mama took up the sport (skiing), and my friend Scott, who taught her, told me he would teach me as well. It was time…but then Alice decided to make an appearance in my hip so I stuck to things like skinny dipping and extreme dating (not together…very often) for a while. Then I saw this Warren Miller Film and the fact that I have lived in Utah my whole life and never been made the guilt start to creep in. (Okay, okay, If I am going to be completely honest, which I am, the film helped, but what really made me want to go was a man-crush I have on this guy who totally shreds it all the time…boys they get me every time.) It was time. So I waited patiently until my doctor gave me the go ahead and then I was on the mountain. Well really I was on the hill, the bunny hill, and boy oh boy was it hard. My whole right side was weaker then I had anticipated.. Yes I fell a lot, but the hardest part was holding on to that damned rope to pull me back up. After I went up and down the bunny hill at least a dozen times we decided it was time to move on to bigger and harder things. As we were made our way over to Sunny Side Lift we stopped at Rustler Lodge Lift where there was a super hot guy running the mini lift for people to go up to their rooms. I would say I flirted with him and he let us ride it a few times but that isn’t what happened...at all. Instead I let Scott do the talking while I some how waddle up to him in my big fat snow suit, at this point I was already embarrassed that I still haven’t figured out how to walk in my ski’s and I wanted to avoid any possible attractives of the opposite sex. But Scott had other plans. This was my first time on a lift in skis and I was pretty nervous so of course as soon as we got to the top I fell down off the lift. Regretting my decision to come skiing in the first place (yes I give up easy) I some how made it to the starting point of this tiny hill. You see that is what Scott called it. I would have called it something more along the lines of the Hill of Despair. To say I was terrifed would be an understatement. I like to be prepared for things when done in front of others and so the fact that this was the first steep hill I had ever encountered and that Mr. Hot-Lift-Guy was watching made me die inside. I thought about waddling back over to the ski lift and pleading with Mr. Hot-Lift-Guy to bring me down but that seemed more embarrassing, in retrospect it wouldn’t have been. I think I was on the slope a total of three seconds when I hit ice and tumbled to my death. I literally rolled down almost the entire slope. Once I reached the bottom I was ready to move on to warmer and safer things but Scott said we should try one more time. I bashfully approached the lift trying not to make eye contact, when Mr. Hot-Lift-Guy told me I did a good job and just keep trying. (I hate when people lie to me, especially beautiful people). Up we went again, this time as I got off the lift I didn’t just fall I slid right into the freaking lodge. I was sure I broke my leg (I didn’t) but instead of crying I got up and went down again, only falling once this time (it was a long fall). We did the mini lift 2 more times, each time I got back on the lift I pulled my hat down a little further hoping maybe Mr. Hot-Lift-Guy would forget what I looked like. I thought about asking Scott to say something like, “Isn’t my handicap sister doing so well?” But decided against it. Finally Scott let us move on.

Chapter Two: Crashing

By the time we got on the lift at Sunny Side my legs we burning, and my right hip was aching but I quickly forgot about all my minor pains because my goodness it was gorgeous up there! This time getting of the lift I didn’t fall, I told myself it was because I was becoming amazing but really I just think it was far less steep and there was less ice. After a few photos we were off and down the mountain. I fell over and over again, but it wasn’t as scary anymore. I actually started having fun and cursing Scott out in my head less. I think it was all the three olds whizzing past me that gave me inspiration. Once we hit the bottom I was thrilled, time to go home but wait, No? What’s that Scott, we have time for…One. More. Run. Ugh. I didn’t argue(I should have) because he’d be so nice to help me and it really was fun. On the lift this time around though it was a little harder to ignore my hip aches (Note to self: Listen to your body!) Right off the bat I crashed so hard both my skis popped off. I wanted to turn around and take the lift back down, but there were those blasted three olds again with all their mad skills. So I didn’t. We came to what I remember as the steepest part of the run, I told Scott to go in front and I’d follow him down. I did a big gradual turn to my right to help control my speed and then to the left when ouch there’s the hip ach and BAM! FLIP! SLIDE! I was lying on my back, somewhere off to the left.. my ski was about ten feet behind me stick straight up in the air. MOTHER! My body hurt everywhere but particularly my left leg. I laid there for a minute. No sign of Scott. I knew I was going to have to somehow make it down by myself so I tried to move my leg but it hurt so bad I started crying. This is the point I realized something must be really wrong because I never cry unless people are around (for attention, obviously) and nobody was. So I laid back down for a while, few people stopped to offer help me, once guy even retrieved my ski for me but I assured them I was fine, because that’s what girls do when they feel stupid right? I started getting nervous and wondering how far down Scott would get before he realized I suck and wasn’t coming. He eventually figured it out and came to my rescue. The next thing I know three men (One attractive, two not so much) are bundling me up, strapping me to a sled thingy and snowmobiling me down the mountain. The worst part of the whole thing was I didn’t get to enjoy the ride (or the flirting) because each bump felt like someone was stabbing a sculpture’s chisel in between my leg bones. I know I am so dramatic.

Long story short (ish) I fractured my left fibula, and I get to be on crutches and in a boot for the next eight weeks, oh yeah and my bad leg (the one with the tumor) just became my good leg. Awesome huh? Now I know what you are wondering…was it worth it? Come one…Does a chubby girl love attention? Oh the answer to that would be…Yes. It was worth it.

xoxo,

Michal

Shakespeare and a puppy.

2011-11-24T16:03:00.002-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

"O Lord, who lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!"

-William Shakespeare

xoxo,
Michal

For my daughter.

2011-11-11T06:32:00.020-07:00

This post contains sensitive material.

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.”

-Maya Angelo

Recently there was a video released on YouTube by a 23 year old woman named Hilary Adams. The video is just over 7 minutes long in the video you see Hilary’s father, a judge in Texas whipping her. She was 16 years old at the time and apparently had downloaded music (or a game?) illegally onto her computer. Her punishment was the belt.

Here’s the video:

There have been Facebook pages, blog posts and web pages dedicated to making sure justice is paid by Judge Adams for what he did. The video, in my opinion, is disturbing. Obviously I have emotions about it and therefore I have a lot I could choose to write. I love children and in my personal life I am strong advocate against child abuse. I have intimately dealt with victims of child abuse and I have seen the negative repercussions it has on them in their life and in their personal relationships. I believe there are many types of child abuse, and specifically in this video there is more than just the physical kind. I don’t feel any child should be in raised in an environment where they feel fear of any kind.

No parent is perfect, and I am not writing this post to criticize anyone in particular or comment on anyone's parenting style. I am not a perfect parent. I am not even writing to say look at Judge Adams and what a bad man he is. (I do think Judge Adams was wrong) I am writing this because watching this video gave me a perspective I have never had before.

I would like to take a few minutes and comment on Hallie Adams, Hilary’s mother. I don’t know Hallie, and I am in no way saying what she did was right, I mean, to me, it looks completely wrong. It looks like Hallie is a mean woman who wants her daughter to feel pain. But what if she wasn’t?

I did then what I knew how to do.

In an interview I watched, Hallie says that at the time the video was shot she was living in an abusive environment where she was brain washed. Whatever her husband said she did. Some people can say that is bull shit (I said this when I heard it). As a parent, I believe it is our responsibility to protect our children. But then this thought occurred to me, what if the person you had to protect them from was the person who was supposed to have the same responsibility? What if you were in a struggle everyday to survive? And you had to choose which battles to lose so you would win the war and stay alive? What if every aspect of your life was controlled by someone who used fear, and violence to manipulate you? I don’t know if this was the case for Hillary or Hallie or if it was just an excuse Hallie used. But the thought that it could be made me wonder...it doesn’t change the responsibility Hallie has to protect her children but it could change how she able to go about doing it.

About half way through the video you hear Hallie say, “You turn over like a 16-year-old and take it like a grown woman.” This part hurt me so much. Why? Because to me that comment implies that Hallie actually believes that if a woman misbehaves she deserves to be physically beat. I could assume from that statement that Hallie herself has had moments in her life where she disobeyed and was punished violently. The next thought that popped into my head was the lyrics from the song “Daughters” by John Mayer the chorus of that song goes, “Fathers, be good to your daughters, daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers who turn into mothers, so mothers, be good to your daughters too.” Those are such powerful words. We learn right and wrong from our parents. We learn how to love and how to hate by watching them love and hate.

In a talk given this past October in LDS General Conference the Young Women’s General President Elaine Dalton spoke on this very thought. She said,

“By the way you loveher mother, you will teach your daughter about tenderness, loyalty, respect,compassion, and devotion. She will learn from your example what to expect fromyoung men and what qualities to seek in a future spouse. You can show yourdaughter by the way you love and honor your wife that she should never settlefor less. Your example will teach your daughter to value womanhood. You areshowing her that she is a daughter of our Heavenly Father, who loves her.”

I don’t think Hallie (and probably Judge Adams) were raised in an environment like the one Elaine Dalton spoke of. It’s more likely it was the opposite, that every time Hallie was bad she was punished in the same manner that Judge Adams was now punishing Hilary. It is possible that Hallie witnessed her own parents demonstrating this cruel type of discipline. If that was the case then it would only make sense that Hallie would think that this punishment was appropriate. Is it possible Hallie believed Hilary deserved to be physically punished for downloading music illegally, and as a good mother she had to allow that punishment?

During the video Hallie, without stepping over his authority, manages to get the belt out of her husband’s hand. Judge Adams used the reasoning for beating Hilary over and over again because Hilary wouldn’t “bend over the bed” when Hallie gets the belt she (violently and inapproachably) reasons with Hilary, gets her to turn over and whips her one time. One time. I think this could have been her way of protecting Hilary. And possibly the only way she knew how. She knew Hilary was going to get the belt, after all Hilary deserved it, but as I watched this video I saw a mother doing the best she knew how to protect her daughter.

Now that I know better, I do better.

This video was taken seven years ago. Since the video Hallie says she divorced Judge Adams and had time to heal. From my understanding she saw the video for the first time right before it was released onto YouTube. It’s true that in this video both Hallie and Judge Adams are seen whipping Hilary, but the difference is Hallie apologized. She recognized her actions and felt remorse for them. (Judge Adams on the other hand wouldn’t even acknowledge that his behavior was wrong. “I lost my temper, but she wasn’t hurt”)

I am not saying everything is okay because Hallie apologized. Kids in these situations need help. Our children need to be protected. I am also not saying that doing the best we can is okay if the best we can is beating our kids. Our children need to be protected. What I am trying to get across in all these muffled words is once removed from a situation; once time has passed maybe…with new knowledge patterns can be changed.

I want to now comment a little bit about abuse in general. I have heard many people ask why other’s stay in abusive environments like Hallie’s and Hilary’s. It can be hard to fathom why a person would take abuse of any kind over and over again and unless you have experienced abuse you might not understand. I know because I have been the victim. It seems so easy from the outside, when someone is demeaning, manipulative and violent walk away, get away. The problem is, it's rarely that simple. I don't know enough about Hilary and Hallie's situation to comment on why they stayed and without going into too much personal detail about my own experiences (if anyone wants to know I am more than willing to discuss it in a more personal setting) I would like to discuss some of the reasons people stay.

Often people who are being abuse do not recognize the behavior as abuse. Maybe the first time he hit you, you thought, "You can't treat me that way." But it doesn't always start out at a level 10. It starts out slow, when someone disregards your feelings or opinion which then leads to constant critism. They may start putting unobtainable expectations on you and then use verbal abuse to punish you. Often times abusers will use what is called "Gaslighting" which basically means they deny the the existence of certain events that happened, which makes the victim question their sanity. Abuse patterns don't have to come from one abuser. You could have a parent or a teacher start and then end with a boyfriend. Have you ever heard the term "pathological liar"? Your brain actually creates pathways for information. Slowly by witnessing, and experiencing manipulation and violence you brain starts recognizing that as normal behavior. People may choose to stay because they really believe they deserved the abuse. I went to the party and wore a short skirt and I was flirting with him so "I had it coming " All I am supposed to do is have dinner on the table when he gets home after he worked so hard at the office, I am a bad wife. They believe the lies that are planted in their heads. From my experience one of the biggest reasons people continue to live in an abusive environment is the reason I already stated...People do what they know how to do. Have you known anyone who has gotten out of a bad situation only to find themselves with a new partner who is just as bad or worse? That's because people search out was is familiar. You create coping skills that coincide with abuse. If he yells I know how to react. If he hits me I know what to do. But then when someone is kind and respectful you get a rush of signals saying, "What happens now?!" I would say in many cases abuse is like an addicition, which makes leaving almost as terrifying as living in it. Relearning what is correct is not only difficult its scary.

I applaud people as strong as Hilary, like I said I don't know her or what her motivation was for releasing the video, I wonder if her mother finally being an example and leaving Judge Adams was a catalyst? It’s possible it was out of vengeance or perhaps after being removed from the hurt and the pain she saw her father as being broken and wanted to help. That isn't for me to discern. I would like to say that I am grateful she has brought so much attention to an issue many people are afraid to discuss. Choosing to bring to light abuse is not an easy thing. You often feel ashamed for letting it go on so long or at all. And what if no one believes you? Remember what Judge Adams said? He didn't think he did anything wrong; What if Hilary didn't have a video...it would have been her word (and maybe her Mother's) against his, a judge. The reason people allow abuse is because they feel powerless. Abuse is rarely as black and white as this video shows and even if it is how often is it that the victim has 2.5 million viewers on their side? Standing up saying enough is enough for them? Not often. More times it’s one person walking away, alone, uncertain of how they will continue.

As a mother I have known my responsibility to protect my daughter and teach her how to behave but what this video helped me realize was protecting her includes so much more than keeping her out of danger and teaching her is much more than how to say her please and thank yous. It is my responsibility to teach her through my actions towards others, and how I allow others to treat me. Simply by watching me, she will create the patterns of what normal is in her life. My goal is to help her learn, in her interactions with others, not only to give respect but to expect it in return. “Girls become lovers who turn into mothers, so mothers, be good to your daughters too.”

I did what I knew how to do, and now that I know better, I will do better.

xoxo,

Michal

I have a testimony of sexual chemistry.

2011-11-08T23:59:00.013-07:00

It is real. It can be between a man and a woman, a man and a man (oh Jude Law and Robert Downey Jr. how I love you!) or between a woman and a woman, (if I was lucky, it'd be between a red head and a blonde).

Sexual Chemistry doesn’t mean you simply get turned on by another person. It is this sexual connection that floats between two beings, an energy that almost has a physical presence that makes you believe you can reach out and touch.

I have met some beautiful, hot, down right gorgeous people in my short time on this earth, but the interesting thing was that just because they were beautiful and I am obviously down right gorgeous as well, doesn’t mean that when our shoulders bumped or our hands brushed past each other that there was fireworks, butterflies, heat… I don’t think its something you can fake, (naturally, we all have our level where we become sell outs, and I am willing to admit that if by some god given gift I was given the opportunity to be able to hook up with the likes of David Beckham and for some reason the chemistry wasn’t there, for me, you bet your bottom dollar that I’d fake it.)

::pause::

Okay I am back, um…sorry about that…I had to uh.. ::cough:: Okay so back to what I was saying before I got swept away into fantasy land with the sex god of the Soccer world…I don’t think it simply has to do with outer appearances, I think it has to do with the actual chemistry make up of our beings that compliments another person’s biology. I heard of a Study done once called the “sweatyT-shirt” study. Yes, I know it sounds kind of gross but take a look…

“…The first "sweaty T-shirt" experiment, a Swiss zoologist, Claus Wedekind, set up a test of women's sensitivity to male odors. He assembled volunteers, 49 women and 44 men selected for their variety of MHC gene types. He gave the men clean T-shirts to wear for two nights and then return to the scientists.

In the laboratory, the researchers put each T-shirt in a box equipped with a smelling hole and invited the women volunteers to come in, one at a time, and sniff the boxes. Their task was to sample the odor of seven boxes and describe each odor as to intensity, pleasantness, and sexiness.

The results were striking. Overall, the women preferred the scents of T-shirts worn by men whose MHC genes were different from their own.”

Now I don’t know about all that MHC stuff, you see I am just 22 year old girl who likes men (and occasionally women) and sex and doesn’t really understand why. But I do find it fascinating that the reason I want to jump on that guy at the bagel shop or the dude strapped tandem to me as we jump out of a plane is all because of a few major histocompatibility complex cells. Yes I think sexual chemistry is real. In the past I have liked a guy so much but there was just that thing missing…something I couldn’t get over even though he might have been perfect in every other way. And there have been occasions where I totally hated a man’s personality, he drove me crazy but there was that something there that made it so I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Now I am not saying that sexually chemistry is the end all of why you should choose to be with someone, there are SO many more factors that go into that. All I am saying is…

I have a testimony of sexual chemistry…I am not really sure what it is or how it works…but I’m a believer.

xoxo,
Michal

The person you are trying to reach is Unavailable, please try again later.

2011-10-31T15:11:00.006-06:00

So being young and single people ask me the question all the time, “What’s your type?” Usually I’ll list things like between 5’10” and 6’5”, strong (ish meaning I could sit on his lap while making out without causing him a hernia) funny, laid back but not too laid back (I don’t love going out with OCD guys but I’d choose that over a dude who hasn’t had a job since 1997 and I end up picking up the McDonalds tab every time we hang out) And I always end it with please, please let him have lots and lots of facial hair.

See I am not picky, but really all of that is just something I came up with in case someone asks me that dreaded question where I am supposed to have an answer. Do you want to know the truth?? I, just like everyone else, just want a play-mate to kick the sheets off with every once in a while and discuss what it would be like if we graduated out of the 99% and how Obama keeps those amazing ab muscles while running the country (oh did I leave politics out of the above list…hmmm?)

Okay here’s the truth…I do have an answer if anyone should ask me what my type is.

I have one type of man: Unavailable.

Yet another cute, seemingly funny, and hairy man has stepped out of my communication tunnel to travel the world while I am at home making French toast.

Because this happens to me so often it is now actually a joke amongst those closes to me, and I know it has to be one of those it’s not you its me things. I am obviously going for the wrong demographic of men. I say I want a reliable man but all the men I date are always preoccupied with traveling the world (solo) boarding down mountains, entertaining thousands (okay maybe hundreds) changing the world with his art or jumping out of planes...men like this aren't too eager to curl up next to me and a three old and read Sleeping Beauty 223 times. Yes this is definitively a me not a them thing. I need to get my head on straight maybe I should listen to my dad and start hanging out at the U of U law school library. Just typing that made me yawn...

No I am with out a doubt attracted to men who are unavailable but while they are out finding themselves, I do okay, because I have The Economist and Glenn Beck radio to keep me company and after all French toast is my favorite food.

xoxo,

Michal

PS Did I mention I went skydiving!! Post to come soon!!

And the Oscar goes to…

2011-10-28T07:23:00.002-06:00

Last night, after saying our prayers, I leaned over and kissed Jayah good night (yes we still share a bed, and a room and probably will until she moves out. You may think it’s because I am poor, but that is only a secondary reason. You see the real reason is this; I am keeping us in the same bed/bedroom as to ensure that neither of us get pregnant, again. I know I am a genius right?) After I kissed my sweet little angel, I said I love you and rolled over. Apparently this made her angry (or hurt because as I believe anger is just a coping skill for hurting) because after I rolled over Jayah whispered, “I hate you, mom.” Now being the totally awesome and (im)mature Mother that I am, I responded with, “ Jayah what if I died tonight while I was sleeping, then I bet you'd feel pretty bad for saying that. Sweet dreams.” She immediately started crying… fake crying, well when I say fake crying I mean forced crying; they are real tears that turn into real sobs. She is really good at this and actually very convincing, if I wasn’t her Mother and if I hadn’t dealt with her episodes regularly for the past 3 years (yes I do believe that even as an infant her she would break into hysterical crying as a way to manipulate me in over breast feed her, hence the thighs.) I probably would believe her, but not anymore. Since I didn’t respond to her initial sobbing she knew she had to step it up a notch. Here’s what happened next…she leaned over my body, folding her little hands together and through her very convincing tears, she begged, “Dear God, please, please help me. Oh God I need your help, please don’t let my mother die! Dear God…please please please!! Help me God!!!” How did I respond you wonder, I turned over, put my arm around her and, you won’t believe this, tears switched to off and “Good night mama.” Sleep.

After waking up this morning…not dead….I had a renewed conviction that I must somehow exploit my daughter’s whining to make me millions. I mean seriously if she can convince God…need I say more?

I am thinking I will have Givenchy Haute Couture design my dress for the big event, what do you think?

xoxo,

Michal

Being Good

2011-10-10T22:01:00.001-06:00

I want to be a good person. But I’m not really. I make my mind up daily that I am going to be good. I will make better choices regarding so many aspects of my life, and then I get out of bed and start being bad. But still every morning during my personal prayers and my prayers with Jayah I ask for help with listening to the angels and not the snake.

I got a beautiful blessing from my father yesterday. A blessing I had wanted for a while but hadn’t asked for. Afterwards I felt like I could do anything, I knew God was on my side, I could go fight the fight and succeed. I felt inspired and guided. I may have even thought it was going to be easy. I had confidence. I left my father’s house to go about my day, and you wouldn’t believe how quickly my day turned to poop. I had scheduled pictures to be taken of me and Jayah (my first real family photos since the divorce) it was a disaster. We then went to a family dinner, which should have been enjoyable but all of the negatives of my situation (I am working mother, I am single parent, I don’t have a partner/lover/friend, I have yet to attend college I havetumor growing in my hip, I have a total of $.003 in the bank, I can’t wear skinny jeans) kept being brought up. Once I was home in bed I got a call that pretty much ruined any chance of me smiling again and I went to bed pretty distraught. My confidence was gone, my direction was gone, my inspiration was gone and mostly my desire to be good was gone. What was the point?

I woke up this morning and remember the blessing my father had given me, how in the world did I go from feeling so encouraged to feeling so indifferent about life. I prayed to be able to listen to the angels and not the snake rolled out of bed and started my little routine like always. And then I came across these two things.

The first is from a devotional by Elder Holland. Here are a few excerpts:

“I wish to encourage every one of you today regarding opposition that so often comes after enlightened decisions have been made, after moments of revelation and conviction have given us a peace and an assurance we thought we would never lose.”

“Every one of us runs the risk of fear…Of course our faith will be tested as we fight through these self-doubts and second thoughts. Some days we will be miraculously led out of Egypt--seemingly free, seemingly on our way--only to come to yet another confrontation, like all that water lying before us. At those times we must resist the temptation to panic and to give up. At those times fear will be the strongest of the adversary's weapons against us…Moses began to fear exceedingly; and as he began to fear, he saw the bitterness of hell" (Moses 1:20). That's when you see it--when you are afraid.”

“If it was right when you prayed about it and trusted it and lived for it, it is right now…along with the illuminating revelation that points us toward a righteous purpose or duty, God will also provide the means and power to achieve that purpose.”

And the second was a quote by C.S. Lewis.

"No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have always lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it; and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation really means—the only complete realist."

Yesterday, I made several specific decisions regarding my future. There was no big significant experience that should have been able to keep me from moving forward, yet, I almost gave up last night? I find it so interesting that without even realizing it how easily I allowed my drive, my passion, my rapture to be changed into indifference. Really all it takes is a few “You’re fat and single” “You suck at mothering” “I’m not interested” and “Pay your bill or else” comments to get me to lie down and throw a tantrum?

The truth is sometimes life is hard and sometimes its not hard but we act like it is. And sometimes its not easy to be good, but (in the paraphrased words of Harvey Mackay) they didn’t say it would be easy, they just said it would probably be worth it. I think they are right, it probably will.

xoxo,
Michal

Are you listening?

2011-10-09T21:47:00.004-06:00

While teaching Jayah the Second Article of Faith..We believe that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam's transgression...she asked what a transgression was and who was Adam. I then went on to tell her the story of Adam and Eve and the apple and snake. She then said to me, “So when I don’t listen to you mama am I listening to the snake?” Sure. I continued talking because as an adult I am superior to her and I have a lot to say to teach her and she needs to listen...again she interrupted me asking, "If I am not supposed to listen to the snake, who am I a supposed to listen to, the angels, like the Holy Ghost?” This conversation came from when I was teaching her the First Article of Faith We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost and she told me ghosts were scary and I told her not this one, he is our friend and he is an angel. She now (too) often reminds me of when I am listing to the snake instead of the angels.

I have told you all of this to tell you this story.

Today we were getting ready for family pictures and she wasn’t listening at all, meaning she was running around throwing things and screaming, pulling clothes out of everywhere, dumping cereal all over, the best way to describe her was she was being a classic three year old brat (Its okay, I am allowed to call her that because I am also, on occasion, a brat myself) So as she is screaming and kicking I leave her on the floor mid-tantrum and walk into the bathroom to finish beautifying myself and as I walk away I say, “If you keep choosing to not listen to me and to listen to the snake Jayah, your punishment is going to be that I will take away all of your lip gloss.” The crying stops, I think I have won. In walks my darling little brat and says, “Is not listening to you and listening to the snake a transgression, so I have to be punished because its mine and not Adam’s?”

Apparently she does listen.

xoxo,
Michal

The Mystery of the Great Pumpkin Thief

2011-10-05T10:25:00.001-06:00

First a little back story.

I grew up in a house in Riverton. We lived there for about 12 years. It was off a busy road and after my youngest brother, Jacob, ran his bike into a car (or maybe it was the other way around) my parents decided it was time to move into a neighborhood. That house is very dear to many of my sibling’s heart and from time to time we drive past it. It has been sitting empty (due to either the economy or the fact that we remodeled it so many times adding on rooms here and there to fit our needs only a polygamist family would move in) for five of the seven years since we moved out (I totally made that number up but almost every time we drive past it is empty).

Now to our tale.

Sunday: My mother was in the area of our Riverton house with some of my siblings and decided to stop by. She parked her car in the drive way and everyone got out to look around. The house appeared to be empty (gutted even) and alone. The house is placed on the an acre of land and as they were exploring they found an over grown pumpkin patch at the far rear of the yard. My mom picked a pumpkin, gathered the kids and drove home. Later that evening on a drive up the canyon the kids (including myself) were discussing our annual pumpkin painting and carving party (This year we will be doing this at Mary’s 21^st Birthday Fall Festival, come one come all) and we decided we would go pick up pumpkins this week. My brother told us about how our Riverton house had a pumpkin patch growing in the back. The house had been deserted for so long, my mom thought what would be the harm of going to pick pumpkins from there? They would, of course be going to waste, it would almost be a service to that little pumpkin patch, because what good is a pumpkin if not enjoyed by little children and one big down syndrome girl.

Monday: For FHE my mother and several of my siblings went back and picked pumpkins.

Tuesday: A knock comes to the door. My mother opens it. There standing in from of her is a tall man dressed in black slacks and a black t-shirt, he slowly takes off his sun glasses and looks and my mother for a full three seconds before speaking (I added that last part for effect).

Man in Black: Are you…Shirley Maclaine?*

My Mother: Yes...How can I help you?

Right now my mother is assuming that this man is here on behalf of one of her many children’s shenanigans

Man in Black: Looking around at the pumpkins lining my mothers walk. Were you at ::address:: yesterday evening and did you happen to take any pumpkins?

My Mother: In a bit of shock Why yes sir, I was.

At this point she notices four little letters above the man’s left pectoral that read S.W.A.T. and now she is almost nervous. She then goes on to explain how we used to live at the house with the pumpkin patch, and we drive by periodically to wish it well, and how she discovered the pumpkin patch while wondering around on the said private property (Yes my mother admitted to trespassing and stealing because I am pretty sure it didn’t cross her mind that she was doing either) and that the house has been empty for so long she didn’t think anyone would notice.

The Man in Black explained to her that a family does own the house and was concerned when driving by and saw a family (large family) loading up each carrying pumpkins into a humongous white van and wrote down her license number. (When I heard this part of the story I pictured a cartoon version of my family dressed head to toe in black, tip toeing across the lawn with their loot and sneakily loading into the van).

My mother, of course, apologized and let him know that she would take the pumpkins back immediately and write and a letter to the family. That was that…the Man In Black thanked her for her time, put on his sunglasses and turned and walked away probably rolling his eyes and thinking, “Man, I need to transfer back to L.A.”

Why would a S.W.A.T. member come to my mother’s house in search of missing pumpkins, personally I think he was just breaking in his Halloween costume a bit early but whether he was the real deal or not, tonight we all get to venture back to the Riverton house and carefully place the pumpkins back where they belong. Thank heavens we hadn’t turned any of them into Jack O’ Lanterns yet, then again maybe just one wouldn’t hurt...

Only in Utah.

*Some names have been changed to protect identity. :P

Odysseus, Odysseus, wherefore art thou Odysseus?

2011-10-04T04:33:00.007-06:00

Odysseus, Odysseus where art thou Odysseus?

To date or not to date, that is a question. (Yes I do realize I mixing classics here)

Hi my name is Michal and here are a few facts about me:

1. My family is the absolute. with out a doubt, most important thing in my life.

2. I don’t like wasting time.

3. I love being a mother, I want to be a wife.

Let me elaborate.

1. My family. I have a really big family that just keeps getting bigger. Right now it consists of one little princess, one mother, one father, eight sisters, five brothers, one sister-in-law, four brother-in-laws, four nieces, four nephews, one step-brother, one step-sister, and one step-mother. That is 32 people, not including cousins aunts or uncles several of whom I am very close with (meaning I talk to them frequently during the week, Shout out to my gorgeous Aunt Connie! ). Of all the people above, I know every single birthday, anniversary and I am pretty updated in their day to day lives. I love my family, and I will literally drop just about anything if one of them needs something. Outside of my family I really only have one or two close friends that I choose to spend time with. This brings me to numero dos

2. I don’t like wasting time, okay of course I do it, especially since the wonderful inventions of things like The Facebook, YouTube, and Wikipedia. Still I usually only like to dive in to something if I know where its going. A line from a song comes to mind, If you don’t like the end of the road, you know you better back up, you know better back up fast. (My Turn On Earth, anyone get that reference? Yeah I didn’t think so) If know I am going to Hawaii, I really enjoy a plane ride even if it’s bumpy, but if I am just flying around in the air not sure which air strip to land on, the turbulence can get a bit uncomfortable sometimes even make me sick. I make most of my decisions based on one little thing: Is this decision going to make me happy in..say…2020?

3. And last, I love being a mother, and my ultimate goal is to be a wife. I feel those two roles are the reason I am here.

Now to come full circle (I got that line from a friend, who will probably never read this post but here is a wink for you anyway ::wink::) To date or not to date that is a question on my mind this morning. When I get asked out by my various suitors (ha) I often have a hard time saying yes, because it a) cuts into time with my family (I usually only go out when Jayah is at her papas but still even on my free nights look at how many awesome people I could be spending time with…31!) b) If I don’t feel a 2020 vibe on a first date it makes it really hard to say yes to a second date, why would I want to waste your time?. I do realize this is me shooting myself in the foot and not fair because how can you really know someone after one awkward night of dinner and a movie?? Still, that is how I am, firsts are fabulous, but seconds are rare.

The truth is dating is wonderful, I feel very blessed that as a chubby I get asked out at all. Its fun getting dressed up, going to dinners (that I don’t have to pay for) pretending to be interested (or not interested depending on the man) for anywhere from two to four (to six, shoot me) hours, When else in my life am going to get to out and experience different things for free with all kinds of people from different walks of life? Never. I really enjoy that aspect of dating, the new first date aspect. It’s the second date that throws me. It’s not that I ever think I am better than someone who asks me out (quite the opposite) It’s just when my little sister needs help with homework or my brother has a football game, its hard to justify doing anything with someone who I am pretty sure isn’t going to be around in the long run. Family comes first, its one of my best qualities and my biggest vices. Yet I will always go on a first date, why because I want to be a wife and as much as I hate wasting time or I love my family I am not going to be marrying one of my brother (or sisters, if we were in Massachusetts)

Ready for me to get all weird on you?

Sometimes I feel like Penelope, from The Odyssey, not in the sense that I am totally amazing and desirable that it’s a struggle to keep my suitors at bay (I wish I may, I wish I might) but in the sense that I feel I have an Odysseus out there, and although I know he is fighting this incredible fight and experiencing this amazing journey, I am not sure where he is, or if he will ever come home. I often get this strange feeling in my gut right before a date: How am I going to explain this to my Odysseus when he does finally return? But then I think that if I don’t at least entrain the thought of dating what if I skip an opportunity and I miss my Odysseus because he was disguised as a wandering beggar? What if he has been at the dinner table the whole time but I’ve been too distracted to notice? Yes friends, I do realize I am crazy.

Maybe I just have a guilt complex. or maybe I have just shifted pass the whole I am young lets stay up all night and play stage. I am a mother, an adult, and most of all I am a worker bee, I know the consequences of staying up till 4 am planking and they usually involve an angry boss or some kind of stimulating substances to help me deal with a three old. I have also learned, from experience, that the reason so many people say things take care of themselves is because people like me are taking care of them. It’s hard for me to make the decision to go do something frivolous when I know there is laundry to be done, or an account to be reconciled. Don’t think I am a total buzz kill (isn’t it the librarians who are always the freakiest?) I know how to have fun; I am an expert at getting the most out of every experience. I just believe that slow and steady wins the race and although I have had my moments as the Hare (I like skinny dipping as much as the next girl and don't even get me started on black lace panties) afterwards I always crawl back inside my turtle shell and put one foot in front of the other and start back up the mountain.

So back to the question: To date or not to date…here is an answer.

Since I don’t know where my Odysseus is or if in fact he will ever come back at all, the only thing I can do is take after Penelope’s example, be true to my gut and be friends with every person God brings in to my life, and maybe in time one of them will take off their beggar’s cloak and we can turn the benefits of being friends into friends with benefits.

A single mama goes to wedding...

2011-09-23T06:32:00.009-06:00

That right there is the number one this you should never do alone.. Weddings are meant for couples, or at least friends-with-benefits. Yes last night if anyone would have hit on me I probably would have gone home with them and kicked off the covers a bit. (Where is Vince Vaughn when you need him?) The number two thing is holding an adorable little baby.

Last night I did both. Fail.

Those two things combined made me very much want my own wedding and to have another baby. (Jayah is three, How does this happen?) I dreamed last night I was pregnant, it was wonderful, but the whole time I felt like something was missing. Obviously it was the man who got me pregnant part. The truth is I love being a mommy and I miss being a wife. I think marriage is so beautiful because it shows two people who are committed on working through life's crap together. And its even more beautiful when those two people are friends. The two people who got married last night, seem to be really good friends. I cried when they said I do.

An old boy friend from high school and his wife just had a baby. It made my ovaries ache (Thanks Facebook). My brother and his wife are talking about maybe adding one to their family of three, there's that pain again. Why is it that God would bless me with such amazing child bearing hips and no man to make babies with?? I know I know I am young..there is time. But Jayah is three, I want her to have siblings close to her she can tease and play with and all that fun stuff. I am really blessed I live with John and Jessica so that Jayah gets to act like a sister to Lily, and that I get to play double mommy every time Jessica is working late.

Jayah Practicing.

Me Practicing

Hey Universe...I want me lots of babies and a hot hunk of a man to make them with...Can you work on that? Please and Thank you.

*Yes I am aware that this post is probably going to scare away all potential men in my life...I am posting it anyway.

Stupid is as Stupid does.

2011-09-19T16:45:00.004-06:00

I recently heard someone quote someone else who told them something they thought was wise. So as the game of telephone goes I am not entirely sure what was really said, but what I heard was. “Kids in their twenties and thirties shouldn’t write, they should read.”

Brilliant right? I so agree with this statement. 100%. But wait Michal, you write a blog and your how old,?..Oh yeah 22.

I have been heard to have said things like I don’t live the average 22 year old life. That’s really a just bunch of bananas. Who am I to determine what the average 22 year old life is? If that is some way to say I have had a harder life then other 22 year olds, then I need to take a look a girls my age living in places like Malawi. Maybe I have walked a different path then your average blonde Mormon 22 year old girl living in Utah (at least several of the girls I went to high school with and that I stalk on Facebook). And maybe by walking that path I have gained several experiences that have given me a unique education for my circumstances (for which I am grateful). BUT…I am still a blonde 22 year old Mormon girl living in Utah. I am spoiled. I am young. I know that I don’t know what I am talking about. (number 10) I may often act like I know more about life then other blonde 22 year old Mormon girls living in Utah, but really, I don’t, I just know different stuff.

I believe Wisdom comes from learning something and then applying what you learned to life. I try and take every experience I am given and look for a lesson (Thank you mom). I try and soak up as much knowledge as I can each day. But even if I had done that, with every incident in my life (which I haven’t) it takes time to apply that knowledge and let it settle into wisdom. Time I haven’t lived yet. Now…now… before you get all crazy on me I am not saying that every person in their twenties and thirties should keep their mouth shut because they don’t have insights on life that are worth sharing, because I know that isn’t true. I feel that one of the benefits we acquire with age is knowing when it is appropriate to share our opinion. And that often, because of lack of wisdom and experience, young folks are much to eager to put in their two cents when in fact it could benefit them and others much more if they listened longer and let that two cents appreciate into something bigger and more helpful like maybe a quarter or even a dollar.

Basically what I am getting at friends is this: Don’t take me too seriously…I never do. Every once in a while I write a post that when I go back and read it I feel like it may seem that I am trying to teach the world how to live life, or impose my wisdom on them. I am a long way from having a dollar in the bank. The truth is I don’t know how to live life. I am not writing to tell you how to live life. I am just writing down how I am processing my life. I thought many times that I should stop blogging and just journal. But for some reason I can’t make myself stick to it. Probably because I was born in the digital age and never learned how to write with a pen and paper in a legible manner. Oh and more importantly because, just like you, I am in dire need of validation (why else would I tweet what I just ate for lunch).

So as long we are all clear… That I am just a Forrest Gump and this is my bus bench where I get to tell my story…then I will probably keep on blogging.

PS I also want to make clear that I am not this exceptional girl who is changing the world one smile at a time. Most days I come home from work put my sweats on and wish Jayah was older so that she could cook me dinner.

Owning Up: Part Two, Honoring The Past.

2011-09-13T06:39:00.015-06:00

Right after my divorce, I didn’t take time to heal. I didn’t just walk away from my marriage and my life with Cowboy I ran. Without looking back. I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to remember it. I wanted to act like it never happened. The last few years I have learned, changed and matured. Recently I have taken a hard look at the decisions that have brought me to where I am. Slowly, I am making steps to be a more whole and healthy person. Some days I am totally fine and then there are days where I will hear a song, talk to a old friend, or eat s certain food and I seem to fall apart, which then makes me confused and angry. Why am I crying I thought I was passed this? Its been so long.

The hardest part of my parents divorce is that every one acts like the 30 years of marriage never happened. That hurts me, it hurts my siblings, and I know it hurts my parents. You can’t just forget a life. I think we do it because we are scared. That if we remember and miss what we had, that means we can't enjoy where we are.. If I loved who my parents were does that mean I can't love who they are now? If I miss family vacations with my mom and dad does that mean I have to hate family vacations with him and his new partner?

My whole growing up I had an amazing family, we had so many incredible times. I am who I am because of the way my parents raised me, because of the experiences I had inside a family, my family. My childhood was beautiful, fun, hard, full of adventures, trips to DI, Bear Lake, and NPS. Diapers, and bottles and Mac & Cheese, campaigns, hikes, adoptions, sealing’s, road trips, BYU bookstore, new drivers, West High Seminary, law offices, birthday parties, raising lambs, court houses, home school, babies, football games, peanut butter rice crispy treats, burying dogs, 15 passenger van with duct taped windows, electric fences, painting, tiling, building, lawn mowing, and spring cleaning. I have the photos to prove it.

Wait no I don’t.

Since my parents divorce most of the pictures have been put away. Hidden in a box…somewhere? Almost every year my family had a family photo taken. Where are those photos? Where are my childhood pictures showing how my siblings and I progressed? I don’t know, collecting dust? Waiting. I won’t forget the 30 years my parents were married and the family they built. It’s a beautiful family. Here is our last family picture, all 16 of us, together.

I understand that there is a season and a time for everything. I don’t think the individuals in my family are ready to remember the past yet. There is still so much hurt involved. Sometimes pieces need to be left alone for a while before they can be put back together. I wasn’t ready to remember or celebrate my marriage before now, this very moment. During the very slow process of healing it has become easier to remember the good things and forgive and move past the hurt. I now realize that by hiding or running from my failed marriage, I am forgetting a large part of who I am. And if I forget the experiences I had, how can I learn from them? What was the point of having them? My family has grown and changed since the above picture was taken. New family members have been added. New experiences are waiting for us. Many of us, most of us, don't understand what that means. We aren't sure how to love two worlds, the past and the present. I don't think it is wrong to remember who we were while accepting who we've become. In order to change, grow and progress I feel I need to remember the past, to look at it for what it was. How it really happened and be grateful for it.

Today I would like to take one step closer in healing from my divorce and how I would like to do that is by honoring my marriage, honoring the past I had with Cowboy and the family we had and Cowboy himself. I was married. Sometimes I think the reason I want to say it never happened or it was awful, is because I am scared that if I say I liked it or I loved Cowboy then I am stained. In the same sense that I'm not a virgin. The dating world I am in is an LDS one. That means the men I date have the choice to date someone who has never experienced sex, love or intimacy before. If someone could choose that why would they choose me? Maybe If I made myself and others believe my marriage was bad, un-enjoyably and painful then anything good could be as if it was the first time. Yes I was married but I wasn't in love, it was horrible, if you and I fall in love it will be my first time. See I am not ruined. My marriage had bad, un-enjoyable and painful parts, but it was also very rewarding, very fun and very beautiful.

Here is the truth. I got pregnant. I got married. Our marriage was a battle, but most of the time it wasn't a battle against each other, we were fighting it together. I grew to love Cowboy very deeply. I think a large part of the reason our marriage ended was because neither of us had the maturity to keep fighting. Life is a battle, but we were so young I am not sure either of knew how to fight or even why. When you throw two people as inexperienced as we were, into an arena it gets confusing to know which side you are fighting on. Have you ever seen 16 and pregnant? Need I say more? Its true we were a bit older but both of us were dealing with life in a re-active state, rather than a pro-active state. We had so many wounds, separate from each other, we weren't dealing with head on. Many days we were in each others corner, but many days we were opponents. And often it was hard to tell the difference. The day I knew Cowboy and I could no longer stay married, was because of a fight. It wasn't a bad fight, a normal one, we had separated several times. We both had so many things we needed to do differently and better to make a relationship last between us. Four months earlier we had decided to give it six more months to really see if we could make our marriage work. I felt the clock ticking. During this fight He was dealing with something very difficult for him, something that was also hard for me but wasn't really my battle. He said, "You know how hard this is for me, why can't you just be on my side?" When he said those words, I knew he was right. I was adding to his stress by being his opponent rather than his team mate. Those words made me realize that if I couldn't get on the same team, it was over. That was the biggest lesson I leaned from our marriage, that no matter what when I have a partner, I have to choose to be on the same team, always. I am their support and they are mine. It has to be a constant choice, to fight together. In the end we didn't make it, for so many reasons but I know that both of us did the best we could with what we had. Both of us made so many mistakes, but we really did the best we could. The reason we lasted as long as we did was because deep down we were friends. We were best friends. And we both loved Jayah.

I love Jayah. I want her to see where she came from, I would like her to know that even though her Dad and I are no longer Partners in life, we had a beautiful beginning and we are Partners in being her parents. I am who I am largely in part to the five years I spent intimately involved and working along side him. Cowboy is an amazing person. Although we weren't able to continue together, I still love him very much and I am very grateful for him. I hid many, if not all the photos of Cowboy and me. Scared, no terrified, that if they came up I would have to remember the good times, I would have to admit there were good times. I feel like I have finally moved past the fear to a place where I can look and remember and learn.

I am no longer scared, I am ready to pull out those photos I have kept hidden in a box under the stairs (aka a folder on my compute). Here there are, a few photos of Cowboy and I on our short journey together.

What a ride. Here's the proof, we had a life together. It was hard, it fun, and it was beautiful.. Look at that gorgeous girl we both get to have now.

I have said it before but, if I have to have an ex-husband he is the ex-husband to have. Both of us will move on in our lives, both of us have. New people will be added, our family will grow on both ends. But we will always be a family. I am so lucky that he and I are still friends, that we still know, no matter what that we are still a family. I am so blessed He and I are in a place where we can talk and work together. So many families don't have that (including my parents). What a blessing our journey as been. I am writing this post mostly for myself, because I want to remember, I want to appreciate and I want to honor. I am also writing this post to say Thank you to Cowboy, for making me a better person, thank you for loving me through all this crazy, thank you for being kind to me when you didn't have to be. I owe you more than I could ever write about in a blog post. I hope both of us can continue to grow, to be better and to love again. Cowboy, I hope you always remember, I do love you.

Now that I can accept and say I am grateful for my past, I am one step closer to embracing my future.

xoxo,

Michal

Question for all you pretty people.. How do you feel?

2011-09-09T17:19:00.004-06:00

I woke up this morning and I was in more pain* then I have been in since I found out Alice had moved in. I had barely enough motivation to get Jayah up and ready that I didn't even look twice in the mirror at myself, I pulled my hair into a bun and walked out the door with some old sweatshirt, jeans and a make-up-less face. (I still haven’t found my make up bag, and since I just bought brand new make and put it in said make up bag, and since my car stopped working and I had to borrow tens of hundreds of dollars to fix it, I think I will be going make-up-less for a while. Say good-bye to meeting Mr. Forever this month). I promise you this, my casual Fridays are way uglier than your casual Fridays. Thank the Heavens TheMan wasn’t in the office today, or I probably would have gotten fired for how un-presentable I was. Charity (my sister) said I reminded her of the two-faced lady Jerry goes out with. Its true I can clean up okay, but when I am ugly I am ugly. And today I am ugly

So now to the question part...My Mama (who is my best friend and also a bit of a new age hippie) gave me this book about feelings. (Oh. My. Goodness. I can’t believe I just wrote that). I am going to try and keep this short because I can already hear people laughing at me though the computer screen. You know that whole trend of…Thoughts become things. Well this book talks about how thoughts with feelings become things. Because anytime you have passion behind something it has a stronger frequency to it. So the idea of the book is to feel how you want to feel you will be. Hmmm? I am have been trying all kinds of natural ways to make the pain less (I hate pain medications but sometimes she hurts too bad) and to gently kill her. So far all the natural and not natural ways haven't been helping, but maybe I could feel Alice to death?

So that got me thinking… and whether the book is BS or not it made me wonder. We all feel things, all the time. But how I feel and how you feel about something are probably very different, so maybe I am not feeling the right way?:

How do you feel when you are healthy?
How do you feel when you are in love?
How do you feel when you are successful?

And now to all you SLB out there (you know I had to ask) so …

How does it feel to be Skinny?

Anyone? Come on people can’t you just indulge a poor little sick girl this once? And…if you don’t want to comment then email me iammichalsarah@gmail.com.

*Please do not judge me too harshly on this post, I gave in today and while writing this I was under the influence of some pretty strong pain meds . Thanks.

Bumping Along Nicely

2011-09-01T06:55:00.009-06:00

Jayah and I live in a basement bedroom (we like to call it the dungeon) . It connects to the rest of the house with out separation. At night I have a little hook lock that I latch to keep the scary things from getting us (thanks dad for the anxiety) and, mostly, to keep Jayah inside so she doesn't wander in the dark in the middle of the night, get scared and wake up the landlords (aka my big brother Johnny and his wife my best friend, Jessica. Jayah always seems to wander up stairs in their room and the wrong moments...If you know what I mean.)

Tonight as I was reading in bed with Jayah lying next to me, she told me she had to use the bathroom. She does this all the time, I ask her to go, she wont until after we lay down. I didn’t want to get up and unlock the door because my hip was hurting really bad, but like the good mother I am, I did. I quickly sat back down and got back to reading. Jayah stood there for a long moment and then said something about it being too dark and looking scary. I half heartedly reassured her, she would be fine. She stood there still contemplating if it really would be safe, she then proceed to ask what if the monsters get her or if she can’t find the bathroom or if she can’t reach the light. I told her one more time, slightly annoyed, to just go, because she has done it a hundred times. She bravely stepped out into the dark and walked down towards the bathroom. I heard her bump into a chair, say something under her breath like oh popsicle sticks, and keep walking, a total of three seconds later she screamed and I heard books fall off the bookshelf. I reluctantly got up and started down the hall towards her, stubbing my toe really hard on the same chair she ran into and continued walking even more irritated than before. Once I reached her I flipped on the bathroom light, made sure she was okay, reminded her to flush and wash her hands and started walking out. She grabbed my hand and asked softly, “Will you please stay with me mama, I know I am safe when you are with me.” So I stayed. When she finished I turned off the light, since our eyes had adjusted to the light it was really dark and difficult to see. I held her hand and guided her towards the bedroom. Because both of us had stubbed our toes before, we both managed to avoid the chair and we successfully made it back to bed toes in tact. This morning, when I woke up, and went to move the chair that was in our way last night I found, right behind it, a rusty nail attached to a piece of a box, that would have been directly in Jayah’s and my walking path. Turns out stubbing my toe was a good thing. What is it they always say, hindsight is 20/20?

This past Sunday I went to my friend Taylynn's single ward to hear her speak in sacrament meeting. (Her talk was incredible by the way, she flawlessly used the right about of doctrine and scripture accompanied by personal experience. If I ever stay in one ward long enough and that dreaded day comes where I have to give a talk I know who I am asking to help prepare it.) She spoke on Elder Bednar's talk from last conference, The Spirit of Revelation. In his talk Elder Bednar uses the following analogy:

"I invite you to consider two experiences most of us have had with light.

The first experience occurred as we entered a dark room and turned on a light switch. Remember how in an instant a bright flood of illumination filled the room and caused the darkness to disappear. What previously had been unseen and uncertain became clear and recognizable. This experience was characterized by immediate and intense recognition of light.

The second experience took place as we watched night turn into morning. Do you recall the slow and almost imperceptible increase in light on the horizon? In contrast to turning on a light in a dark room, the light from the rising sun did not immediately burst forth. Rather, gradually and steadily the intensity of the light increased, and the darkness of night was replaced by the radiance of morning. Eventually, the sun did dawn over the skyline. But the visual evidence of the sun’s impending arrival was apparent hours before the sun actually appeared over the horizon. This experience was characterized by subtle and gradual discernment of light."

I often feel like Jayah needing to go to the bathroom, I know where I want to go or at least I have an idea but I’m not sure how to get there. I worry about the things that can go wrong along the way. Particularly at the point I am at right now in my life. I feel like I am standing at the edge of a door, looking into the dark, hesitating because what if I step out there and stub my toe, or I run into a bookshelf? What if I head in the wrong direction? I have been taught over and over again to ask for guidance, make a decision best you can and then do it, God will take care of the rest. I am doer., I like to get things done and I usually don't wait around for someone else to do them. That being said I like to be prepared, always. Stepping out in to the dark is a scary thing when you aren’t sure what obstacles are there. The scariest part is what if I couldn’t hear him him direct me? What if I miss him when I step out and I start going the wrong way? When I stub my toe on life (e.g. divorce/break ups, losing family members, money issues, health problems) I can choose to get angry, feel bad or complain about it, demanding to know why I had to hit that chair so hard. Or I can ask “What can I learn from this?” and "How can I avoid it in the future?" I can use it as a tool to guide me, a road sign saying: Wrong Way or Choose a different route. If I bump into a wall I know I have to turn and walk a different way. Is that not God talking to me? Shedding some light? Experiences that seem, unfair and unnecessary may fit under the category of the sunrise from Elder Bednar’s analogy. Each time we hit something that changes our path, we get a little stronger, we understand a little more and we are able to learn how to work with and around our “problems” and move in a new direction. Furthermore, there are often times we simply have to go through one thing to protect us from something far worse. Stubbing my toe on that chair, would have not been nearly as bad as stepping on that nail. So maybe instead of saying oh popcile sticks when we stub our toes, say thank you, I am not sure for what but thank you.

Sometimes I get frustrated. I pray and ask the Lord why certain things happen to me or what direction I am supposed to move in, and I feel like I just get static back. But this little experience with Jayah taught me two things: One that everyday something happens where God is speaking to me, and I need to take more time to listen and watch to see what he is saying. He is answering my prayers, and guiding me. And two “I know I am safe when you are with me.” And I know He always is.

Men: The final frontier. Part One: Some boyfriend and Hawaii

2011-08-30T19:09:00.003-06:00

So I am planning a trip to Hawaii with my siblings next Thanksgiving (we are poor okay it takes a while to save) I am actually glad I have a while because um… I would like to have my Skinny sex body in place so I can hang out on the nude beach the whole time (if you like tan lines raise your hand…that’s what I thought.). Our trip to Hawaii, its going to be with all of my adult siblings and their significant others. Yay, right? Actually yes, we are really cool. Plus superman is coming aka Grace's husband so we will get to stare at his abs the whole time, it doesn't get much better then that. If you don’t know my family we are really close (PS don’t worry I am only inviting the females of our group , if I can convince them, to accompany me to the nude beach. We are close but not that close.) and closed off to the outside world. We don’t like our dirty laundry in public, mostly because we have a lot of it (can you imagine how much laundry 14 kids makes? Exactly.) Well I don’t have a significant other, I mean of course I plan to by next year. ( I mean, right I can’t possibly to stay single forever can I?!) I should have someone by next November who would want to join me in paradise for some turkey (that’s sounded weird but I meant because its Thanksgiving) Well one problem… I was just informed by the ruler of our family outings (I plan them, he DICKtates them) that I can’t bring just some boyfriend of mine along. At his defense I do have a lot of some boyfriends. I go on a lot of first few dates, get my hopes and then get dumped. It’s kind of my thing. (Speaking of my thing, I seem to attract awesome men who conveniently go out of town right after we start hanging out...Hmmm that just seems a little too He's Just Not That Into You for me, what is up with that? Is it possible I am not as attractive as I think I am?) So my freakishly close family doesn't just want some strange hairy man (yum) sleeping on the couch bed next to them, because chances are after we get home, he’ll dumb me and have all of our dirty little secrets. (Which are mostly things like how we yell at each other over which restaurant to go to and that we sometimes pick our nose when no one is looking)

::Pause::

So I have a rule about introducing Jayah to guys I am seeing (and by seeing I mean rolling around with during lightening storms in the back seat of their car) I don’t. Unless I am seriously dating someone they won’t meet Jayah. Here is the problem I am a girl so to me seriously dating can happen quickly because I fall hard and fast. I am lover remember? I love to love. So since I usually start planning the wedding after date three (ha. ha. not really guys that would be so awkward ;/ I am not that crazy, Or. Am. I?) and I get my heart attached too quickly I had to come up with a new rule. I thought possibly once Mr. Maybe and I are Facebook official he could meet her but then I thought even if I get married someday I don’t think I could become Facebook official because that is some serious stuff. So here is what I decided I am not going to let a man meet Jayah unless I have been dating them exclusively for 3 months. Which pretty much means no man is ever going to be meeting Jayah.

And ::Play::

Back to the Hawaii, and bringing some boyfriend, so I said well what if I am dating someone and they have met Jayah? (now you understand why I went off on the Jayah and men tangent) Nope. The Hawaii rule is I can’t bring a significant other unless I have been exclusively dating him for…wait for it…8 months!

Looks like I will be drinking all those delicious virgin Mai Tai’s all by my lonesome… Wait I wonder if that rule applies to women lovers?? Any takers?

Skinny sex by my birthday?

2011-08-19T18:36:00.002-06:00

This one is in response to my dear friend Ashlee’s blog post. I feel you girl. (You look fabulous by the way but still I understand) Seriously, the battle of my life is instant gratification. One aspect of that is food, I mean since I can’t get my jollies with sex (Wha… you can’t have sex?! Okay, I can have sex. I am very able to, I have just chosen to stay abstinent until I have found Mr. Forever) I might as well get them with delicious food, right? And since you and I both know that I am not going to be Skinny tomorrow I might as well have the cookie now.

Wrong.

Here’s the problem with that, it makes me fat. The thing is I am going to be having sex again someday right? Someday soon, right? (Oh how I hope so) and I want to look good doing it (Let’s face it unless you’re Jenna Jameson you probably aren’t going to look good doing it, but I would like to look good before and after doing it.) I have tried the whole its swimming suit season thing to try and motivated my big fat ass, but then I just go places where I don’t care what people will see me or come up with an excuse when someone invites me hot tubing (Oh sorry I can’t my brother crashed the car into a Zion’s bank yesterday and now I am planning his funeral, Maybe next week ::smile::) Swim suit season doesn’t scare me enough to really make me change, because there is always somewhere to hide or something to hide in. But the thought of being intimate with someone for the first time, scares the hell out of me. If I knew I was going to have to meet an amazing man who was going to sweep me off feet tonight I wouldn’t be typing this I would be throwing up my lunch and jumping on a tredmill. But That’s probably not going to happen tonight so I am back to typing and eating my cookie but then the thought occurs to me, what if by the grace of God I did meet Mr. Forever tonight and the whole, when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible, happens? Soon as possible is not enough time to get me Skinny. I am not about to do my pole dance to Like A Virgin with the current ass I have, so I only have one option. I’ve got to get my butt moving now. I firmly believe in the quote, “The adventure you're ready for is the one you get!” So I am going to get ready for some really good Skinny sex.

So now the question is how to get Skinny. I mean seriously I have tried everything out there. I am pretty sure I have bought P90X, three different times, I am committed. Oh wait, what? You mean you have to actually do the DVD’s not just sit there and admire Tony’s abs while snacking on kettle corn? Well then, it seems I have run into one more problem, I messed up my knee. Well I didn’t. It just got messed up. (Let’s pray Alice didn’t invite her sister to move in to the basement apartment) The last week its been hurting and every day it gets worse. It’s my left knee and Alice lives in my right hip so I really can’t walk, and when I try to, aside from the excruciating pain its causing, I look like what I imagine Forest Gump would like at 90 if he never got his legs fixed. (Never again will I take an able working body for granted, I want to be young again) I’ve upgraded from a cane to a full set of crutches. (ps I am in desperate need some pink spray paint and possibly a BeDazzler, anyone?) I am going in to get it looked at next week but in the mean time what am I supposed to do about these relief society arms and these thunder thighs? Please don’t say I have to try starving myself again…it never last very long and I am such a bitch when I’m hungry. So here is where I come to you (one or two people who may possibly read this) What am I supposed to do?

I have a goal weight (Let’s just say its somewhere south of me and somewhere north of a six year old, its okay it’s a large six year old) that I want to be by my next birthday (Dec. 31^st ), which just so happens to be the last day of the year. Party. Party. I don’t know how I am going to get there, but I am going to get there. So when 2012 roles around I will be ready to meet Mr. Forever, start the rest of my life and have all the Skinny sex you can imagine. Let’s do this.Suggestions please.

BTW I do realize being Skinny wont make all my problems go away but what is wrong with solving all my problems while rocking a pair of Skinny jeans? Nothing, I say, nothing.

Facebook Stalking: Unsubscribe

2011-08-16T07:22:00.021-06:00

If you want to ruin a perfectly good evening (if you consider a perfectly good evening, sitting watching Iron Man 2 alone, somewhere past midnight, eating peanut butter, which I do.) then all you need to do is hop on The Facebook and do a little light stalking.

Now I know I am over reacting because a) I am a woman, and we women tend to shut off the part of our brain that thinks logically when it comes to men (remember Carter, just because I hate it doesn't mean I can stop it). And b) because Pandora just started playing Ms. Morissette which means aunt flow is about to visit and therefore any rational behavior I could possess is now hiding deep enough inside me that I wont be able to access it for about 5 to 7 days (give or take). So yes I have no REAL reason to be upset, nonetheless, I am upset or hurt or sad or disappointed, you choose. Mostly I am just embarrassed.

Never Facebook stalk while watching a movie either, because, yes, you are bound to find out something you don’t like and in my case, miss watching the very sexy Scarlett Johansson run around in a tight black suit. Thanks to you Facebook I didn’t even get to enjoy her tight little ass and gorgeous red locks. Which, I will admit, is 63% of the reason I was watching it.

Part of the problem here is I haven't seen Jayah for almost five days now (she has been in St. G with her pops) which left way too much time in the day for me to think about myself, which led to the dramatizing of my problems and not doing anything productive. Should I have gotten all those small projects done that I always put off because Jayah needs me to paint her nails, make her cookies, or swing on the swings? Of course I should have but I am human and to err is me.

This morning (I just typed out the smorning instead of this morning then deleted it, wow I am retarded*) After waking up way earlier then I wanted to (I was depressed remember I should be swallowing in the fact that no man loves me, wait why would I be depressed that Miranda Otto loves me? Eh.. eh… okay bad joke.) and texting my mom all my problems, I went on a walk. Too bad I didn't look in the mirror before I left (which shows how upset I really was because I ALWAYS look in the mirror) and forgot that I put tooth past (yes tooth past, I learned it at girls camp okay?) on my face to try and clear up these nasty pimples that pop out when ever I focus too much on myself. Of course I passed 3 hot runners, two dudes, one lady (that sounds like a nasty viral video in Europe, don't google that.) who all stared at me like I was jabba the hutt. Fail. Cue low lights and cutting music. I am actually relieved a bit that it wasn’t the fact that my thighs were attacking each other but rather just that I had bluish-white polka dots all over my face. So many blessings in disguise.

Speaking of blessings, I did learn one productive thing on The Facbook last night: After reading this sentence, you are now aware that the the human brain does not recognize a second the. Go ahead read it again. Cool right? Ah things to be grateful for…I learn something new everyday. Oh and I am wearing a dress with pockets on it..really why am I complaining?

*By retarded I mean mentally handicapped, its okay I can say that, I have a sister with downs ;)

Happy A-Day Cowboy

2011-08-11T07:32:00.002-06:00

Today is one of those days I am probably going to eat my feelings a lot.

Today is my and my Ex-Husband’s wedding anniversary. I woke up at about four this morning leaned over and looked at my gorgeous Jayah and said a prayer for him, and cried. How hard this must be for him, not because he misses me but because we had a family and we don’t anymore. I was lying next to Jayah and he was lying somewhere alone. I’m sorry.

I have so many different emotions running though me today. Divorce has been a big dark elephant standing somewhere in the room for the past few years. He’s this dirty hunk of energy that doesn’t like to be forgotten. He has chained his ankle to mine so everywhere I go he is always there, somehow trying to make way into my conversations, into my thoughts. Most days I ignore him and when ever his chain starts cutting into my ankle I push aside the pain by singing, a spoon full of sugar or give said the little stream, but days like today, there is no way getting around him. There he is, this giant repulsive elephant starring me in the face.

I hate divorce. I know too many people who are divorced and it’s ugly. Mine luckily wasn’t as ugly as some. I am very blessed, if I have to have an ex-husband I am lucky it’s Cowboy, he is a kind man. Even though our relationship didn’t work out, I am grateful for the experiences I had with Cowboy and even after all of the Ugly stuff I am grateful that we really are still friends.

The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.

I can say genuinely, that I wish the best for him. I am grateful for Jayah, because she is the reason I live and breathe and she is half of him so I will forever be grateful to him for her. When you have kids with someone you can never completely sever the relationship, though you both must now grow separately you are never really too far apart.

I learned so much about life and myself and love while dealing with the things we were faced with in our long, yet short, journey together. A great deal of who I am is because of him. I pray daily that he will find someone that will bless his life, that he can be partners with, that will able help him be the best he can. That he will be able to love again.

Today might just be a regular day to everyone else but for me today is a day to say, Thank You.

Still, bring on the cupcakes.

Captain Egocentric

2011-08-09T01:35:00.006-06:00

I saw Captain America, and I liked it. Actually I liked it a lot. However I do not like Captain America himself. Here’s why…When Rogers is scrawny there are several moments where we see the kind of character he has, he wont back down from a fight even though he is small and won't be able to win or when the fake grenade is thrown and everyone runs away, he throws his body around it. That is a courageous man, a selfless man. When Dr. Erskine Says the line, “..a weak man knows the value of strength, the value of power...” I wanted to be on Rogers team. But very soon after he got his injection, he lost me. Something switched and now that he had this power or strength I felt he wanted to prove something to everyone.

For me it changed once Tommy Lee Jones’ character, Colonel Phillips recognizes Roger’s worth and decides to utilize his desire to fight and gives him a team. What could have Roger’s done at this point? He could have thrown away his stupid flamboyant costume, put on the camouflage uniform like the rest of his team and been a leader. But no, he had to wear his Rainbow Brite outfit to make sure everyone knew how “special” he was. Carrying that annoying shield felt like he was screaming, “Hey look at me I am a super human, I way better than you!” I mean in that scene where Rogers is running around creepy red skull’s camp for the first time he could have snuck around a lot easier if he would dropped the shield and changed into one of the uniforms of Schmidt’s men. But no, he has to represent you know..? I feel he could have gotten a lot more done if he would have checked his ego, and just been a team player, What is that you say? He needed to lead his team? Well I feel you can lead and be a team player, not that having big muscles qualifies you to be a leader, which brings me to my next point…

The second thing that really bugged me about Rogers is he went through very little basic training, he didn’t go through any specialized training, and yet he seems to be an expert at all things war related. I hate how he didn’t respect any authority over him (particularly Colonel Phillips) because um.. he got a shot and now he has a six pack so why listen to anyone? I can just go in and beat everyone up and save the day, Wait you mean there is more going on here than just a scary guy with red skin? No I don’t need any briefing I’ll just shoot everyone. (Also, where did he learn to fly a plane? That must be one cool shot.) I hate when people don’t understand their place, or how they fit into the big picture. He got a shot and spent a few months dancing around on a stage and now that makes him equipped with all the qualities one needs to make decisions that will effect the whole country/world? I don’t think so. Colonel Phillips is obviously a seasoned General and is in the position he is in for a reason, show some freaking respect man!

The last thing that bugged me (this one is really small) was the kiss between Rogers and Carter. They had a bazillion chances to kiss and they don’t (I know, I know, they were building sexual tension) and then in the heat of battle where everything is on the line and he has to jump on a freaking plane to fight a noseless devil, she decided to kiss him. COME ON WOMAN! Take a look around, we are at war! Check your feelings, do your job, and stop being selfish. She did have very sexy lips though, and it set up for Colonel Phillips line, “I’m not gonna kiss you.” So I might let that one pass. Women, geez.

I must say this, yes I do realize it’s a movie about a Superhero, that overall I really really enjoyed. The movie I thought was great, It was just Rogers who seemed to keep getting under my skin. And yes I do know he did end up saving the day. So thank the thunder gods for that. Maybe its just certain men I am dealing with in my life who I feel have some sort of Captain Egocentric Syndrome and I am taking it out on poor Mr. Rogers. Darn me. Also, I realize that there is a place for men like Captain America…They run our world, they get things done. Captain American got things done. I think I just get frustrated with men (and women) who do things for show, but I guess that might be the difference between Superheroes and Real Heroes. We probably need both.

PS I hate Red Skull, I am going to have nightmares about that nasty face with no nose. Gross.

The End.

Let’s go to the movies.

2011-08-08T18:17:00.005-06:00

Girls like to talk, and they like to talk about boys. So when talking to some girls the other day, dating was brought up (go figure). Almost all of the girls involved in the discussion started complaining about going to the movies on dates. This was a shock to me. First off that half these girls were getting asked out because they were...well bitches and I would never ask them out ( I did read somewhere men love dating bitches? I haven't figured that one out yet. Am I too nice?) and second because who doesn't like going to see a movie?!.

Their two main arguments:

1. First dates are about getting to know each other, that involve talking.

2. Movies are too safe, which means a guy is either boring or lazy.

I can see these ladies’ points but here is what I think:

1. The movie Mr. Maybe chooses and how he reacts to the movie can tell you a lot about him. Discussing the movie afterwards over ice-cream (or brownies) could tell wonders about who this man is.

2. Since when did liking movies make you boring or lazy? A movie is a very fun, relatively low cost activity to do with someone you might like.

I have come to the realization that I am different than most girls when it comes to dating and men. Although I am romantic at heart and day dream about a perfect wedding or getting swept off my feet by my prince charming (I am still a girl after all) when it comes to real life experiences I have been told I think like a man (e.g. logical, rational, and objective). When it comes to dating I don’t think things need to be over the top and out there. Although I know routine can smother a fire in a relationship, I would be happy going to/watching a movie every weekend. Chances are if its Jayah’s dad’s weekend and I am not out on a date with you then I will be ending my evening watching a movie. And that is the difference between me and the ladies mentioned above. I happened to be a movie enthusiast.

When I look at the route feelings behind these girls complaining about movies I probably have the same ones. They feel ordinary when going to a movie because they feel movies are ordinary. They want Mr. Maybe to be so into them they do something special, to show they are special.

Here is something they probably haven’t thought about; when it comes to dating men do the same things over and over again. Same restaurants, same activates. The expectation of him coming up with something new and exciting to do each time he meets a new girl is ridiculous. How exhausting would that be? He knows what works for him so he is going to do that until he finds the girl that fits into that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you because he took you to the same restaurant he took the last five girls, that means he likes that restaurant. That’s the blessing of being a woman. We go out with five different guys we get five different experiences. Our dating lives are full of way more experience and variety.
In conclusion, I love movies, I think they are special and the truth is if you asked me out and took me to a movie I may end up falling in love, if not with you than with the movie itself.

She's my inspiration

2011-08-05T11:14:00.000-06:00

Team Kocoum

2011-08-04T11:02:00.004-06:00

He's kinda got a point. I'm just sayin..

I went on a road trip

2011-08-01T17:14:00.000-06:00

It looked like this:

South Jordan to Jackson Hole to Richland to Moses Lake to Richland to South Jordan.

The first stretch of driving was about 22 hours. This was about 13 hours in, at about 2am during my turn to drive. Thank the reststop gods that everyone in the van was dead asleep and just thought that I must be a really cautious driver and that’s why we had only progressed about 35 miles since they dozed off. Curse you McCafe, needless to say I am off the black tea again.

She has decided to join the lost boys.

I only had to beat her twice while taking these pictures to get her to look up and the heavens that way.

She was convinced that the wolves (pronounced Wolf IS) were coming.

Here is the classic, "I am too fat to show me in a picture in my bathing suit but here are my legs to prove that I was actually at the pool" photo.

I love water particularly, streams, creeks, and rivers. I wanted to jump in a canal somewhere but ended up pulling over at the Columbia River. It was so cold my bones hurt.

Flower Child.

We found this gorgeous, sunflower farm. This may be my dream house now. A little cottage at the end of a field of sunflowers.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland.

One of my favorite places on Earth. Driving From Richland to Moses Lake you pass a small town called Warden. It smells like cow poop but its where my mama grew up and where I spent so many summers.

I searched 11 gas stations with no luck of finding muddy buddies. Until finally.

Does it look like we are having fun? We aren't, well they aren't. We are somewhere in Oregon and I wanted to walk along the stream which was harder than it looked. We had to scale a wall, Kaycie cut up her leg, Jayah lost her shoes. I think Tori fell in. Sorry guys. The water felt nice, no?

Last but not at all least, this was the most important thing I packed . Being in the car that long it saved me.

Namaste

2011-07-21T15:18:00.000-06:00

I keep meeting new people who are extremely similar to me. Not just in likes and dislikes but in attitudes, experiences, goals. Deep down, I think we all want to be unique, different…Special. But as I am growing up I am realizing how “un-special” I am. I am just like everyone else. I believe like attracts like. So naturally I am going to meet people who are like me (which ever me that is at the moment)

For example:

I am divorced ---> I meet people with broken hearts.

I have a 3 year old ---> I meet parents with young kids.

I love movies ---> I meet film enthusiasts.

But maybe it more then that, maybe the reason I find a connection with every person I meet is because every person I meet came from the same place I did. Maybe I am special for the same reason you are special.

Maybe we all really are connected.

I like remembering that.

Here’s the divinity in me recognizing the divinity in you.

Blog Surfing and Lawyers

2011-07-12T17:26:00.000-06:00

I often blog surf, ending up on random blogs from people I will probably never meet. I love reading about people’s day to day lives. And finding out how total strangers think the same things that I do. I don’t really know how to blog or the proper etiquette. I know there are rules about when you are supposed to leave comments and I often will. Mostly as I read the thoughts of others that are posted on this thing called the internet, I start to get this social anxiety, it makes me want to shut up, shut off and hide. Who am I to be writing a blog? I am young so I don’t have a particular large insight on life, I am average, and my life is average so its not like I have exciting things to write about. Compared to the real bloggers out there (and a lot of people who just write to write) I don’t hold a candle. (I am aware of this, I promise). So why do I do it? Probably because I need validation due to traumas from my childhood I have blocked out, that have left me emotionally scarred. Oh yeah and because I have a lot of feelings. Thank you all 34 followers. (even bigger thank you to all 3 of you who will actually read this).

I write a blog because I like to, and because I was born in the digital age where people write blogs, So although, I often feel inadequate at life, I remember, hey I am only 22, and maybe next year I will have learned something that needs sharing, so I might as well start practicing now.

Today I came across this blog, in kind of a weird way, long story maybe I will share sometime (I won’t) but I figured people write blogs so people will read them so I don’t think she’ll mind me sharing (Not that she needs my advertising, I am sure her blog gets a plethora of traffic). Now I am not sure if it’s the fact that she is stunning or its the red hair (You know me and red heads) or maybe I was so intrigued because she seems to also be a mother who is single. Besides all those facts I just love the way she writes, I really enjoyed her blog and I think you may too.

On a different note- My dad has been a lawyer his whole life, He has done everything from, adoptions and divorces to estate planning to trail law. I grew up around court houses, and law firms. In fact I work at one presently. I think this maybe the reason I love books like The Testament, by John Grisham (currently reading). Well tonight guess what comes out, The Lincoln Lawyer! I am so Redboxing it..I want me some of that Marisa Tomei. Okay, Mathew aint to bad either, I mean remember him in A Time to Kill? I am excited to see him in a suit again (Not that I mind the half naked, beach body)

Now to tie this all together, because I have been blog surfing and sneaking a read in here and there I am little bit further behind on the work load I was supposed to have done by the time Greg (the father) gets back from the Honeymoon. Looks like I will be working the weekend.

PS Don’t you hate when you waste calories on stuff like this...just because someone leaves it on your desk. Blast you snack elves.

I can not wait to start doing aerobic activity again. My fat arse needs it.

I like this feeling

2011-07-06T21:58:00.000-06:00

You know that moment when you are sitting down to watch a movie and you hear the drum roll and see the corner of 20th Century Fox, or you hear the music and the globe lights up, starts turning and the words Universal come across the screen. Or when you see the pan through the clouds as the stars circle around the mountain or the light flickers from the torch held by the lady in the toga, or when the back lot is lit up in liquid gold or when the little boy on the moon drops his fishing line in and you see the ripples?? You know the moment I am talking about..? Yeah that moment, always, without fail, every time, gives me butterflies.

Anyone want to watch a movie?

My mother always said..

2011-07-04T14:56:00.001-06:00

..to be grateful. For everything. If I can truly appreciate what is going on at any moment I will always be appreciating was is going on at any moment and how can i not be happy?

Out of the many things she taught me this is the one I know to have the most truth.

She often refers to this story, (I am editing it a lot but i hope you get the point)

When she was first married, she lived in a small trailer, had little access to her family, no tv or internet and my dad was in school and working. She was alone a lot and it was always quiet. She remember show she hated the quiet. She longed to be connected with people. She decided to enjoy it. Someday she knew she would have a family, people all around her and she wouldn't get moments to herself with total silence.

30 years, 14 children and 9 grandchildren later, I can honestly say she finds very few moments of complete silence. she doesn't get alone time. And she knows now that this "noise" is what she always wanted because she spent time without it.

Every other weekend I send Jayah away to her dad's and I experience a quiet that I don't always like. Its not that I am actually alone that bothers me, I am busy and therefore I am rarely physically alone. The thing about me is my life has the most meaning when I am working towards something and by whom I am loving at the moment. Whither its a child, a sister, my mom, or someone I just met. The quiet I dread is that I am not being able to love someone, when everyone has there someone or someones they are loving, growing with and I am in this stand still of just me.

Today is the 4th of July and it's pretty quiet. Tonight as I watch the fireworks by myself, I am going to say thank you. I am going to say Thank You and mean it because someday, not to far away, I am going to be looking up at those fireworks, holding my babies, sitting next to my partner and I will know how blessed I really am because tonight they weren't there and I missed them.

PS Lucky for me Rachael is in town and I am sure she will lend me on of her babies to hold. I am so blessed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!

I'm so vain: True Story

2011-06-28T22:52:00.004-06:00

So if you read my previous post you know I worked a long day, about 13 hours. By the time I was leaving I was having weird conversations in my head with myself and not really paying much attention to my surroundings.

At my office there is an atrium type entry way that has some stairs and plants you have to walk through to get outside. A normal person walking through would take at most 15 seconds to cross through this.

It just so happens at night all the glass windows are lit up in a way that it makes a huge mirror as you walk towards the outer doors. So little old tired me is walking towards the doors and notices this huge mirror and starts walking slower turning it into a catwalk. I'm look at my dress, check out my messy hair, I even turn a few times. I mean no one can see me right? Its 10 in the pm. It seriously takes me at least 50 seconds (I am going to keep it under a minute to not look quite so pathetic). to cross from one side to the other, the whole time I am pretending I am on a Victoria Secert Runway and that I am the newest Angel. I reach for the door and as I push it open it seems pretty light and I notice there is a hand on the other side pulling. WTF? It freaks me out..and I scream. The man on the other side apologizes and lets me know he is there to clean.. What's worse is as the door opens more, I see an entire Mexican family sitting on the steps starring at me, waiting to be let in. When I say family, I mean a daddy, a mommy and five kids and all of them just watched me do a retard's version of a catwalk through the atrium checking myself out.

Papa thanks me a few more times and I say you're welcome and quickly walk to my car (don't worry, its okay I let him in, I have seen him before cleaning my office) As get in I say a little thank you prayer that it was dark and they couldn't see my face turn bright red and then I remember... I forgot to grab my panties from under my desk.

Happy cleaning José.

A few things I have neglected to mention:

2011-06-28T20:45:00.014-06:00

1. My Dad is getting re-married this week. Yay! (not) Lots* of mixed emotions about this one. Its a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Also, He is going on a 2 week honeymoon, Yay! (that is a real yay, because good for him he gets to travel, good for me I can get caught up at work) I am stressed though so much to do before Thursday.

2. Speaking of Thursday the short film I was in this past weekend may be showing again at the “Best Of” screening. And I can’t wait...for so many reasons.. You should come.

3. I am more single than I have been in the pervious (mumbles) 6 ..9 months 69 months?! No, 6 to 9 months. Meaning I don’t have one real prospect. I don’t have one person I am even flirting with. Currently its just little ol’ me and my computer. Wait that’s sounds kinda dirty. It’s Just me. Which is probably good. I always seem to find myself very alone right when something is going on, like a wedding or holiday. So this a theme huh? Maybe there is something I ought to learn from it.

4. I lost about 10 pounds since January when I was training for my marathon.. since I have stopped training (due to Alice) I am pretty sure I have gained it all back. (This fact is ensuring that I stay single for the next 6 to 9 months).

5. I love wearing summer dresses. But probably will never wear them around you because a) I have chubby legs. (all you skinny legged woman, I don’t understand you, I am jealous of you and oh yeah, I love you. I guess I will just have to keep working on my personality) and b) I still haven’t figured out how to wear panties and summer dresses comfortably. Yeah I said it. And I just can’t go panty less... everywhere. I included this in here because THIS just happened.. I am at the office and its late and I happen to be wearing a shorter dress with a pair of panties that aren't the most comfortable. So I am here alone so I just slipped them off because I mean, who cares?? 5 minutes later out walks one of our attorney's. Wah..? He comes over and starts talking to me about, well, honestly I have no idea because the whole time all I can think is .. Um.. I have a pair of panties under my desk right now. Should I sneak away and put them back on? Should I leave them off?** Awesome right..?

6. I moved (again) This time into my brother’s basement, and although I have less space than before, I love it! I am way more organized and its so nice being out of my dad’s house. Although I was extremely grateful he let me live there for so long after my divorce. It’s nice being an adult again. If you can call yourself that while living in your brother’s basement. I still don’t have my own kitchen, but hey I don’t really like to cook anyway.

7. I had McDonalds for dinner. (Not helping the whole chubby leg problem). I rationalized it because I don’t have Jayah tonight (she’s with her papa) and I knew I would be working late (its currently 8:30, still at the office) but mostly I think its because I secretly hate myself. I promise from now on forever I will never eat there again. I am lying right now.

8. In reference to no.3 I have a crush on someone. Someone who I can't be with. You know who you are and you are totally awesome. I really wish things were a little different and we could laugh together but alas that is not the plan of the universe. I should probably move on. Dang.

9. I am seriously considering deleting my Facebook and Twitter accounts. And when I say that you know I don’t mean it, but seriously I should. Online drama is so ridiculous and it takes up to much of my brain time. Too bad I am an attention whore huh? Maybe tomorrow I will.

10. I was reading old posts of mine and seriously am I annoying or what?! Besides the fact that I am always talking about love or the bigger picture or pretending I know something about anything (which I don't) I noticed I talk to myself a lot, I do this in real life too..I’ll work on that.

* Originally when I wrote that I wrote lost of mixed emotions instead of lots. I think that is accurate. I feel lost about my dad getting remarried.

**I left them off.

Let them be little..

2011-06-24T11:34:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to move forward in life and I, like everyone else, often forget the things that are the most important. Its hard being a single mom for many reason but particularly:

I am the sole provider for my small family. I am constantly thinking, planning and stressing about what I should do to try and make a better life for me and Jayah. I work full time so if I need to do the house keeping things moms have to do, (laundry, cleaning, shopping, fixing, cooking, paying bills) I need to do them early or late. Then there’s the whole working on myself, trying to get a run (when I could run) in, or finding time to do sit ups, or simply take a shower and get ready for the day. I am tired most of the time. My days fill up quickly and before I know its time to put Jayah down. I hate days when I don't get to sit and talk with her. She has so much to say.

I am single. I am 22. Just because I am a mother/provider doesn’t mean I don’t I still have all those desires every 22 year old little girl has. To find the love of my life, to feel pretty, to connect with people, to play. I want to meet new people. I want to go on dates and cuddle. I want to be in school. I want to find out who I am and what I am capable of. But unlike some 22 year olds I don’t get to make decisions based solely off what I want. And so that is when this internal battle starts. I often say I am doing it for Jayah, and in truth I am to some degree, but if am going to be honest I am doing it for me.

So yes I often get caught up in the race of life trying to better myself or my situation. And then mornings like today happen. And I wake up to this perfectly little angel who has so much life in her. And I remember, all I ever wanted was to be a mother. How lucky I got to start so early. So much will change in my life over the next 20 years, friends will come and go, men will come and go (hopefully I will find one that will stick around) I will move, I will switch jobs, I'll be poor maybe I will be rich, things will always be shifting but one thing will always be the same I get to be a mother, her mother, the rest of my life. I am truly blessed.

Jayah is growing so fast (seriously she already has better grammar than I do). Today is one of those days I need to just slow down and enjoy the light she is so willing to give.
This poem describes it perfectly.

If I had my child to raise all over again,

I’d build self-esteem first, and the house later.

I’d finger-paint more, and point the finger less.

I would do less correcting and more connecting.

I’d take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I’d take more hikes and fly more kites.
I’d stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I’d do more hugging and less tugging.
~Diane Loomans

I am taking the day off early. I am taking her to the zoo.

48 hours of..Okay 13.5 hours of film making fun.

2011-06-23T16:56:00.003-06:00

I haven’t blogged for a minute, mostly because my personal life has kinda been all over the place. I would like to apologize to my mom and all 3 of my other readers..

This past weekend I participated in the Salt Lake 48 Hour Film Project and it was so fun! I got to work on a team with amazing people particularly, Cameron and John, who are probably (close to) the funniest guys I know.. (And seriously I know a lot of funny people).

If I get a copy of the short I will post it.

Everything has been kind of crazy for me but this weekend reminded how much I love film and acting. I really don’t like very many things more than it (my family, good food, sex, an occasional skinny iced caramel macchiato, 3 extra pumps of vanilla). Even if all I ever get to do is work on silly little projects like this I am going to, because man I love it!

I have worked a lot of crew in the past and I am so grateful for that. Although acting is my first love, working crew has taught me a lot about the film making process and I think has made me more valuable as an actress on set. Also it makes me appreciate everyone else who is doing the brunt of the work. I don’t think people realize how much of how an actor comes across on screen is directly related to the writing, lighting, editing and overall directing of a film. I’ve heard it said many times, “You give Brad Pitt a bad script, poor crew and a so so editor and see how many people want to watch him.” Which probably isn’t really true because I mean its Brad Pitt and all he needs to do is take his shirt off and people will stare for hours, but do you get the concept? If a movie is good, from the majority of the public, the actor gets a lot of the credit, and same goes for if its bad. That makes acting a scary art form because as an actor I can do my best to bring life to a character or authenticity to a moment, but at the end of the day I walk off set and its up to everyone else to make that into something people want to watch. As a simple actor, most the time, I don’t have the creative control of what the end product looks like (That being said I don’t blame a bad performance on the rest of the crew. From one bad actor watching other…sometimes people just suck ::raises hand::) I have wondered the last little while what my hold up has been. Why am I not out there pushing it more, and I think my biggest hold up is even if I do my best that lack of control, because I am so critical of myself, has makes it hard for me to want to sign on to projects.

I have decided to look at it like this: I am going to make a lot of bad movies. I just will (and have) and although I want to be careful and what projects I sign on to (I don’t want to just be in something to be in something, I think that’s how Jenna Jamison started…Wha..?) I need , I want, to be out there doing, practicing my craft along side others, because if I ever want to work with any A B or C, okay probably D, film makers I am going to need to practice a lot. I mean I will be the first to admit, I am not a good actress, yet. But even though on a scale from A to Z I am somewhere south of Q, I like it and I am grateful that I have the opportunity to possibly work my way up. And even more so I am grateful to people like Cameron and John who give me the opportunity to practice what I love doing in such a fun way.

So yeah, like they say it in the movies..

That’s a wrap!

Do you hear that whispering..?

2011-06-16T11:39:00.009-06:00

I drive between Provo and South Jordan a lot. For some reason I can’t seem to make friends in Salt Lake Valley, the last few people I have “dated” have all lived in Provo as well as several of my closer friends. First off I la la love Provo. Its not Utah county so much I love (I don’t mind it) but Old Provo itself. Its something about the small feel and that it’s a college town. So many people in their “learning” stage of life. (For me, I hope my whole life is in this stage, but for college students everything seems more open, people seem more eager to ask questions.) The energy of Provo makes me happy, especially center street, my goodness how I love walking on center street, and all the neighborhoods right near there.

Yes I love Provo and so I spend a lot of time there. Which means I spend a lot of time driving on that long stretch of road we call I-15. I have many “ah ha” moments on that piece of I-15, probably not because of anything special about it but because its my thinking time. The last few months every time I am passing Lehi I have this weird feeling. I don’t really understand it. Its like something is calling to me, physically my body feels a pull to get off the freeway. Its kind like that feeling you get as a woman and your baby is getting bigger and you see a new baby and you can actually feel your ovaries pull you towards the baby. Its like they have their own heart beat saying, “it’s time” Lehi makes something inside me have a similar heart beat. Its like Lehi is my Nullah and I hear it whispering, “I’ll sing you to me.” Something in Lehi definitely is singing me to it..

Friday I was supposed to have a play date with a friend but it ended up not working out so I was driving home from Provo, and I decided to get off a Lehi exit and drove around. I took a few pictures.

So I don’t know what it is about Lehi but there is something magical about it to me. Who knows maybe I will move there or maybe I will just get off the freeway every once in a while and think.

PS My ovaries have been beating to their own drum lately too.. Every baby I see I want to snuggle up with. I miss nursing and binkies and blankets and their small and even diapers.

I mean look at this face. How could I not make another one of these..?

Oh yeah because my life is totally chaotic and it wouldn't be fair to Jayah or any other beautiful little baby. My favorite thing is being a mother. I am really bad at it, but it truly is my favorite part of my life. If I could choose anything right now I would move to Lehi and be a full time mommy.

What’s that Rafiki, what are you whispering?? “It is time.” I hear ya.. but how..?

Maybe someday.

Kidney for Sale?

2011-06-07T18:37:00.021-06:00

So I was reading my blog today and I realized I am either way too happy and optimistic or I sound depressed. Any of you who read this probably think I am bipolar. Maybe I am? Sorry about that.

I haven’t given much information on Alice’s death sentence because, frankly, they haven’t given me much information. I was told that yesterday they would be doing an arterial embolization but instead they pumped me full of “stuff” to try and kill Alice. Stuff is the official term Dr. Jacobs used when explaining it to me. He also said he had never done this procedure as the only treatment for an ABC but that’s what Dr. Scott wanted so “we’ll see how it goes.” Thanks Doc that is very encouraging… I am starting to think that he harvested a few of my organs and is selling them on the black market. Everything feels a bit sketchy. Thank the lucky stars he was hot or I would have never let him go down..er.. operate on me with that kind of an attitude.

This is me before I went to the hospital.

This is me waiting.

I wore cute panties this time and they end up making me take them off. Bummer.

This is me waiting..and enjoying my awesome nurse Robert.

This is me looking at my mama and waiting..

I checked in at 11:30 and they didn't take me down until 4 because the ER gets first priority over the CT machine. its okay it I've seen the show.

This is me getting an IV which I hate but Robert was the best Nurse to ever give me one. Fastest IVer in the west. I didn't even mind it...Except he did put the blood pressure pump right over it on accident and when it went off I kind of screamed inside.

This is me..you guessed it waiting...I know I know I am so dramatic.

This is my beautiful mother.

This is me after.

Right now I am sitting on my mom’s purple couch writing and listening to Jayah run through the sprinklers. I am so nauseous and my hip/leg/pelvic area really aches which makes me so grateful its summer and Jayah has so much to do.

Blogging. I love this shirt, its special to me.

Speaking of Jayah, last night Johnny was playing the piano for her to distract her from jumping all over me and he played a few bars from the free willy song and Jayah stops and says, “Hey this is Michael Jackson, I love him.” and then continued dancing. I love this child.

I’m off to do one of my favorite things.. lick a bowl of brownie mix (thank you my brothers and sisters) I will probably end up throwing all of it up but it will be worth it.

kiss me out of the bearded barley

2011-06-05T11:01:00.007-06:00

So much of my anxiety I have been feeling about this Summer was swooped away from me expectingly. I had a really good Winter/Spring, it was so good in fact I am sad its over. A closed chapter that I wasn't quite ready to be over with.

I don't always do well with change, I like it and once its here I try to embrace it but I don't always do so gracefully.

May was a month of change for me. It would be torture trying to live as if it was Winter when Summer is here. So the only thing to do is say..Goodbye Spring and Hello Summer.

This is what I get to look forward to this Summer:

Couch Surfing.

Water Slides.

Road Trips

Babies Giggling.

Late Night Talks.

Moving.

Creek Floating.

Fresh Cut Grass.

Holding Hands.

Little Girls.

Bear Lake.

Cuddling.

Farmers Markets.

My Mama.

Music.

Fireworks.

Long Drives.

Fresh Fruit.

Surgery.

Blue Eyes.

Soft Kisses.

Bare Feet.

Cold Water.

Bracelets.

Warm Breezes.

Twinkle Lights.

Mmmm..Can you smell that..Summer's here, and it smells like Magic.

Do you love the way I lie?

2011-06-03T13:01:00.005-06:00

Honesty.

hon·es·ty

–noun, plural -ties.

1. the quality or fact of being honest; uprightness and fairness.

2. truthfulness, sincerity, or frankness.

3. freedom from deceit or fraud.

Deceit.

de·ceit

–noun

1.the act or practice of deceiving; concealment or distortionof the truth for the purpose of misleading; duplicity; fraud;cheating: Once she exposed their deceit, no one evertrusted them again.

2. an act or device intended to deceive; trick; stratagem.

3. the quality of being deceitful; duplicity; falseness: a man fullof deceit.

Is there ever a time when you can be too honest?

A friend of mine told me once her counselor told her and her husband that sometimes some things are better left unsaid. You don’t have to express everything that is on your mind. Sometimes the things you don’t say will make for a better marriage. Really is this true? I understand the whole, Do I look fat in this dress? No, you look beautiful, idea but I am one who is grateful I have a brother who always tells me when I look fat in a dress. Because why would I want to go out in a dress when I look like a cow? Who is this helping? I value my relationship with him because I know he is always honest. Does his honesty sometimes hurt me? Yes. Do I sometimes wish he would lie? Yes. But I know he wont.

Problem number 1.

I live my life by the rule less is more, in most situations. I tend to deflect most direct questions. To everyone. This has come to be a problem is some (who am I kidding, all) of my closest relationships. I don’t lie. I just do not reveal a lot about myself, as a protection mechanism. People have told me that is dishonest. On the other end of the spectrum people have told me I am way too honest on my blog. Giving personal details that shouldn't be shared. Its true its easier to write than to talk for me. When dealing with difficult situations I often use written dialog to work through problems. It's why I love the technology of texting. It gives me time to really say what I mean and I know I have to mean what I say.

Problem number 2.

I hate hurting people. The obvious answer to this problem is…Don’t. But we do. We all do things that hurt people, sometimes. So here is my question…Is there ever a time where it’s okay to not tell the whole truth in order not to hurt someone? If their knowledge of something won’t directly influence the outcome, is it okay to just keep it to yourself? I looked up the word integrity and one of the synonyms was duty. What if my duty was to protect them? If it’s not going to change anything whether they know or not, so why hurt them?

That' s not right is it?

Thoughts please.

All One.

2011-06-01T19:52:00.001-06:00

The last little while I have been struggling with everything; even the thought of picking out something to wear to work gives me a headache. I felt very stuck that all the decisions I was making weren’t mine. Where I lived, where I worked, who I was dating, Jayah’s education.. Everything I was doing I was doing out of a reaction to something not as a stand alone action. Does that make sense? I felt like I wasn’t in control.

I have never played the victim role very well. I have always wanted too (I like attention) but I always feel guilty. I know what I am capable of so when I need help I feel like I am using someone’s time and resources wrongly and its not fair because I know there is someone who needs them more. And after all I am going to fine. So when this thing happened with my hip it really set me back. I needed a lot more help with everything (standing in my closet picking out clothes for work was actually difficult now)

How humbling.

I still know everything is going to be fine, because it always is. But because of this hip thing I have had my eyes opened to how many people are actually helping me everyday. I have so much support from my family. And I have quite a few really good friends who will go WAY out of there way for me. I never have done anything completely alone. I am so blessed. But because I have often felt alone I can understand now how people will react when they think they are alone. I am grateful for this.

Everyday when I wake up I make a decision on how I am going to handle things that come at me. How I am going to handle work, who I am going to spend my time with, what stories I will read to Jayah and what shirt I want to wear. And each morning when I wake up I am grateful that I get to learn something.

I still don’t want to play the victim but I do want to say THANK YOU for blessing me.

Someone told me this once.. When we feel alone that is when we are most connected with everyone. Because everyone feels alone at some point.

So Alone or AllOne?

Exactly.

Goodbye Alice.

2011-05-27T23:17:00.002-06:00

Drum role please…

Alice is as Aneurysmal bone cyst

Step one: I go in for an arterial embolization on June 6h.

Life is good.

Don’t judge a mass by its x-ray.

2011-05-20T06:54:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I went to the Oncologist. Do you want the good or the bad news first?

Good News:

Unlike handsome Dr. Hayes, who told me I need to “live like I was dying” Dr. Scott told me, that although it could be a tumor, there is also a possibility that Alice is an Aneurysmal Bone Cyst. He said until proven otherwise we would treat it as such. Does that sound a little Dr. House ish to anyone else?? I am hopeful that this best case scenario is what’s really going on and that a surgery to remove Alice and a bone graft to fix my hip will be the extent of my problems.

Bad News:

I still have to get her biopsied and I can’t do that until Tuesday…so more waiting. And gosh I hate needles!

I got an MRI yesterday and the whole time all I could think about was thirteen.. I am pretty sure I would be ok with having cancer if she was the one who was treating me.

Here is a picture of Alice…isn’t she pretty?

The two white things are my hip bones and Alice is dressed in pink because, well, I like pink.

I’m still considering being Cancer Barbie for Halloween..

Ode to the Zode.

2011-05-19T23:11:00.000-06:00

By Dr. Zeuss

Did I ever tell you about the young Zode, Who came to two signs at the fork in the road? One said to Place One, and the other, Place Two. So the Zode had to make up his mind what to do. Well... the Zode scratched his head, and his chin and his pants And he said to himself, "I'll be taking a chance If I go to Place One. Now, that place may be hot! And so, how do I know if I'll like it or not? On the other hand though, I'll be sort of a fool If I go to Place Two and find it too cool. In that case I may catch a chill and turn blue! So, maybe Place One is the best, not Place Two, But then again, what if Place One is too high? I may catch a terrible earache and die! So Place Two may be best! On the other hand though... What might happen to me if Place Two is too low? I might get some very strange pain in my toe! So Place One may be best," and he started to go. Then he stopped, and he said, "On the other hand though... On the other hand... other hand... other hand though..." And for 36 hours and a half that poor Zode made starts and made stops at the fork in the road. Saying, "Don't take a chance. No! You may not be right," Then he got an idea that was wonderfully bright! "Play safe!" cried the Zode. "I'll play safe. I'm no dunce! I'll simply start out for both places at once!" And that's how the Zode who would not take a chance Got no place at all with a split in his pants.

I suck at life sometimes.