Once upon a mushy face

I title this photo: 

" When Good Faces Go Wrong" 

Or

"This Is Your Face on Motherhood" 

Or

"If Andrea Were an Alien"

I could write these things all day.  

Once upon the ramblings of a tired lady

I'm tired. It just came on out of no where. I was fine all day at work and then I got home and wham - I'm a walking (well actually not walking more like melting slowly into my comfy couch) zombie.

But I wanted to share a few things and give an update.

#1
I have decided that I am done with trips. We just had two fabulous trips. Salt Lake City and a camping trip. They were wonderful and memories that will last a life time (or so I hope. That was my mantra as I dealt with grumpy kids "These are memories that will last a lifetime) were made. I would like to tell you all about it. The hikes and food and friends and conference and adventures but I am too tired. See this is what memories that last a lifetime do to me. They wipe me out to the point that I can't even write them down for posterity. So basically I will probably forget them within in a year.

Also being tired makes me grumpy.

#2
I had a really awesome insight at church yesterday. It was amazing and new learning for me and I really want to share it. But I am
1. Too tired
2. Still sorting and making sense of it all. I want to spend some time journaling and will share when I can...

But the part that I really want to hang onto - is that if I would have left early, or stayed home sick or a million other excuses that show up when I want to escape the crowds at church and go home to my quiet sanctuary of a house - I would have missed out on that moment. I have a job that I love - but that takes a lot from me. There is a cost for sitting in the depths of others pain and trials. And I spend a lot of time with people - giving them my full heart and full attention. So weekends and time off work I have become greedy with.  And this new temptation has shown up. I can be at home alone - in complete silence. No one else's energy. No one asking anything of me. I can read.  I can think. I can sort.

And I can choose that.  Awesome thing agency.
And I won't get punished.
I spent a lot of years running from the punishing God - just to find out He doesn't usually work that way. Ever.
But I can miss out. I could have missed out on that clear moment when I KNEW something so clear and true that it changed me. A little bolt of intelligence that would still be floating out there -who knows how long before that opportunity would have been available to me again.
Not sure if this is making any sense to anyone else - but yesterday I got it. I don't want to miss those little gifts.

There is something magical about being in the right place at the right time. And we all know based on my obsession with Harry Potter - that I LOVE magic.





PS. Thought I should just offer a moment of silence for the poor Mr. Tyler who is really not enjoying school these days. It breaks my heart. And I feel that this face he is making not only represents his feelings about going to school but mine about sending him as well. I think we should just quit school and lay on the couch and eat chocolate pudding all day. This could be the fatigue speaking.

Once upon a heartbreak

I'm blogging on my phone. And I'm pretty leery about it. I've just barely gotten to the point that I feel capable of expressing my innermost thoughts and feelings, which is what usually ends up spilling out in my blogs, with my laptop. Now trying to dig into the crevices of my heart using the same device that's responsible for cat photos and Lol being sent out...it's just weird. 

We'll see what happens. 

I am in Utah today. Andrea + traveling = forgetful city. 

Thus the phone blogging and my beloved laptop sitting lonely in Arizona. 

I love Utah. I love the weather. I love the people, the scenery, the church buildings and roots, the memories I have here. 

And yet today there's this heaviness. 

I was sitting in the tabernacle when a text buzzed my phone. 

I am not surprised. I am not surprised. I am not surprised. I feel the need to show that I wasn't surprised, that I wasn't naive and gullible enough to believe that it would be different this time. And my brain wasn't. My brain was absolutely certain of the outcome. My brain knew with 100% certainty that this would end in pain. And my heart knew it too. Well 99% of my heart knew it.  98% percent of my heart knew. 

But then there was the 2% that was still holding on. Holding onto the hope that this time it would be different. That damn 2% that still waits for the miracle. If I had to guess- that believing 2% is an 9 year old girl who walks the long drive way to the mailbox everyday hoping there will be a letter from her mom inside. It's the little girl who tried to always be good hoping that eventually she'd be good enough to have a mom who loved her. 

If I had to guess that 2% that keeps going back is a tiny little girl who aches and so desperately needs her moms approval so that she can stop feeling so worthless. 

I get it. I know it's not about me. I really do. I could analyze it all the day long about the illness that creates this.  I spent a lot of years working to help that little girl find healing. To help her see that this was NOT about her. It's a good story about how this heart was healed...and one that i will someday share. 

But that 2% she doesn't get it. That little sliver of me that shows up every so often still wants a mom. Hopes for a family and all that brings. 

And sitting there in the tabernacle with hot tears welling up in my eyes I remembered a conversation with a client. 

 "Instead of judging how you feel, belittling,   stuffing, and running from it- could you try honoring it. Letting it show up and feel it. " 

And so I let the hot tears stream down my checks. Reality sinking in- I don't have a mom- and the sadness and loss that I have lived before with this realization hits again. 

And then the miracle comes. The lesson that took me years to discover. That after the pain, the emotion- that for a moment feels like it may swallow me up- passes (and it always passes) there comes the peace and clarity. The truth.

"You are loved" "You are good" "You are not alone...never have been" 

And I look down at the manly hand holding mine. Strong and protective. I look to my left and see these two boys who prove I'm the luckiest girl on earth. 

Me with the dashing Mr. Tyler. Seriously the fall colors were calling my name. 

Once upon growing up

This post was written last spring. I'm finally publishing it...

A.
“The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it.” 

My son has worn long sleeved shirts for two years. 

In 110 degree Arizona heat - long sleeves

In line at Disneyland - long sleeves

Every night to bed - long sleeves

Playing in the sprinkler - long sleeves. 

The only times I have seen him wear short sleeves is when he's swimming. 

There was a part of me that battled him on this for a while. Wanting to spare him the sweat - and more importantly the judgement that comes with dressing and acting different. But in the end - I decided to put my foot down when heat stroke began and until then - let him sort through it. I have learned, usually from painful errors, that when I listen to intuition we get right where we need to be. 

B.  

Tonight Shawn and I ate dinner outside. I pictured myself as a sponge and imagined soaking in the last of the nice weather before the heat that melts my flipflops and my soul starts to show up. The boys - one in a long sleeved shirt - are jumping on the trampoline and chatting with us. Its a good night. 

Ethan - finished with jumping - sits across from me and casually starts to tell me about school. The conversation starts to shift. I feel like he is...fishing. He wants to talk and he is testing the waters. 

Telling me about jokes he's heard. About words and gestures he doesn't understand. 

And then my 10 year old son tells me that he's seen pornography at school. He uses anatomical words to tell me exactly what he has seen.  I ask and he describes the way it made him feel. The fear and concern - he talks about feeling bad. And worrying about what would be thought of him. He lays all of his sweet and tender little heart on the table. 

I feel anger, disappointment, gratitude and peace.

I have always know - with certainty that this day would come. Its my belief you can't raise a child in this world and completely shield them from this. In some way - they will face it. But I trusted a school with my boy. And a schoolmate of Ethan's was able to access it during computer lab. 

No filter. No supervision. 

When I protect my child so vigilantly at home I expect the same when I trust them with him. 

I am absolutely disappointed in a system that builds fences to keep out those who could hurt them and then gives them free access to something that can wound in such a destructive way. 

 But there was peace. I sat across from this little boy and listened to him without a moment of fear.Honestly. I was filled with gratitude for the years of conversations between he and I that made this conversation possible - comfortable - honest. 

C.

Tonight I went in to tuck Ethan into bed. He was sleeping. Curled up looking so much younger - softer. And then I did a double take. My son was wearing a short sleeved shirt. For the first time in 2 years he was wearing a short sleeved shirt. 

Once upon a bearded reporter

Today was a regular day. I saw clients. Spent two hours in traffic.  Did some yoga. Made a quadruple batch of cinnamon rolls, brownies and dinner rolls. I think that baking gets an uneven proportion of my life. And although I am gluten intolerant and have not eaten my desserts in two years - I absolutely love it. Something about baking is therapeutic. Taking raw ingredients and creating something - its just so satisfying.

Somewhere mixed into all that "regularness" was a moment or two that if I didn't stop and recognize...they'd be lost.

One moment was at the doctors office. There was this reporter there taking pictures for a upcoming article about my doctor. And he came into the examining room with us. My doctor was asking me all these personal questions about my body and my period and topics one doesn't usually discuss in front of a bearded reporter and I was uncomfortable. At first I tried to be evasive and answered with "its good. " "things are better" And then my doctor said. "Well can you be more specific. " And I looked at him and said, "Not with that stranger in my room. I don't want to discuss this in front of him."
And the poor reporter turned red and I think he was out of that room in 1.3 steps. (My guess - he was uncomfortable to. Who wants to hear all about some woman's cycle???)

Later in my appointment my doctor said. "That was pretty strong of you. To know you were uncomfortable and then take care of yourself."

And I realized it was. Old Andrea, as I like to call her, wouldn't have known she had a choice. I would have discussed my private medical information in front of a complete stranger and been mortified and so incredibly uncomfortable all the while believing that I couldn't ask him to leave because
1. Thats rude
2. I might hurt his feelings
3. I might upset the doctor
4. I'm just a regular person and this doctor is in charge.

Sheesh. Girl, you've come a long way. Anyway, bearded fella left the room and Andrea got a good report card on listening to my heart and acting on it...even if you ruffle some feather along the way.

Expansion of me

My heart feels like it just expanded. Like an actual physical expansion. It was a wonderful feeling. Restorative and hopeful and gave me a taste of what a lifetime of love could possibly do to a human heart.

And so special because these moments don't happen daily. I wish they could - but then I'd probably explode with happiness. 

Tonight I got a glimpse of something ...

I laid of the couch reading Anne of Green Gables to Ethan (my future daughter in law can thank me later) and then I went on a walk with Shawn. The walk started at 9:15 and now two hours later I am sitting here reflecting on what happened. It started with us dancing in the streets. I told Shawn that we had to be figure skaters and put on a show in the street. We would be given 1 million dollars and could pay off our house and do wonderfully fulfilling things in this world with the money but we had to dance with no reservations. "Leave it all on the ice." And he went along with it.

 God bless that man. 

At one point I looked over and saw my handsome, technology loving, football is my favorite pastime, I just bought a shotgun last night husband - doing jazz hands while dancing down the center of the street. This is true. And I fell more in love. And I felt this expansion of my heart.  There is something about a man doing jazz hands with me that makes me feel safe. Almost as if he is saying " I love you so much that I will do this." I mean, if he will do jazz hands for me - his love is starting to feel limitless. 

And then we talked. We played old Heytell messages (kinda like a walkie talkie) that we exchanged while we were dating. And reminisced about those early magical days of falling in love. 

I thought of this song from Mindy Gledhill while we were listening to our sweet and somewhat embarrassing attempts at flirting over hey tell - 

"you, I've loved you from the start. In every single way. And more each passing day."

I really did love him from the start. As if something in his heart whispered to my heart - "I'm safe. I won't hurt you" It was all about safety in those days. All about protecting that little heart that felt like the glue that had mended it was still drying... 

He saw me. He heard me. And looked at me like I was chocolate cake. And no one had ever looked at me that way. I really really love being his chocolate cake. 

This is mushy. And I'm feeling vulnerable writing it. I kinda want to log it in my journal and leave it there. But there is this other part of me that feels like every girl needs to feel this kind of love. Needs to be someones chocolate cake. I had NO idea this existed. And I know its not possible without Heavenly Father. He is the author of love. And he can heal our hearts and direct our lives right to where this love waits for each of us. We all can have it. Every single one of us. 

Once Upon A Heat Stroke

Today the boys and I took up running. And it was 100 degrees and I started to question the decision about 10 minutes in. I lie. I started to question the decision about 1 minute in when my water bottle was already 1/3 of the way empty.
Tyler seemed to be questioning this running practice too. I heard him mumble some words and although I couldn't make them all out I am pretty sure I heard, "meanest....stupid...nobody else..."

"We can do this Tyler. We can do hard things - our bodies are amazing and strong and they can do so much more than we give them credit for."

I was telling Tyler this - but mostly, I was telling Andrea this. Because in that moment - I really needed to hear it.

That is my journey right now. Fully living in this body. Grad school and the decade of my twenties was kinda like boot camp for my emotions and my brain. And I left that experience feeling pretty damn accomplished. Thinking that I had just climbed my own emotional Mount Everest. But we humans are not mountains to be climbed. There isn't really a finish line - just another hurdle to examine and prep and prepare for. And so...on the other side of that Mount Everest here I am. With a body that hasn't been loved or seen or respected or most importantly TRUSTED in a long time.

We are complex creatures aren't we? And it has taken me a long time to sort through all of this .To realize that witnessing bulimia firsthand as a toddler first planted the seed of body hate.  Messaging from media and family.  An ectopic pregnancy.  A toxic relationship.  These are all woven into the tangle that is my relationship and beliefs about this body.

  "This body can't be trusted. It is weak. It has hurt you. It's not like everyone else's.  I would see people running marathons and see mothers who were also strong athletes and I would think - "Yeah that could never be me." I would watch couples conceive effortlessly (ahem, well, I guess no conception is effortless...) and again the seed was planted "See, this body is not to be trusted. Something is wrong with it. "

And never realizing it was I who was saying, and thus creating such hurtful realities in this body.

 I was discovering and challenging my mind and loving and nurturing my spirit - all while neglecting this body. This body that never stopped living for me. A set of lungs that never stopped breathing. A heart that kept right on beating - even as it was breaking.

I'm starting to realize how connected it all is. Heart and Mind and Body.  And I believe - at least for me - this is the next chapter in my healing.

 I like catchy titles.  Lynsey and I used to call the year after my divorce the year Andrea got her chutzpa( pronounced Huutzpah...but we always said it with a grunt that kinda sounded like we were hacking something up) and it was kind of exciting those years - feeling like I was on a hunt for a part of myself. And so I'm thinking up a name for this next part of my journey. Any suggestions? I have a few ideas but most of them seem to involve J. Lo or boodylicious so... I'm thinking I may need to stay in the brainstorming stage a tad longer.

And so to honor this intention I start with an affirmation. One that I want to plant and nurture and someday know.

"My body is a gift. Beautiful, capable and strong.  It deserves to be loved and respected and challenged. It can heal. And with it I can do anything."

2013 Books in Review

2013 Book Review

I used to review books separately and in detail. And I really loved looking back at what I read. So I want to keep writing about what I have read. But it would take me a long time to review everything I have read. So...I'm thinking a big list will have to do. And I am going to challenge myself for mini yet through reviews. Lets see how this goes.

1 = Stinky Stinky Rotten Tomatoes
10 = Darn Near Perfect

1. The Hiding Place -Non-Fiction. Score: 10 In my top three favorite books of all time. I find myself quoting her to my clients, kids and self almost daily. 
2. The Rules of Inheritance -Non-Fiction/ memoir. Score: 9 Beautiful and incredibly honest. I relate in so many ways. And at one point I found myself sobbing as I listened - it made its way in. 
3. How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and How to Listen So Kids will Talk Non-Fiction/Self Help - Score: 9. One of my favorite parenting books. Love this and use the magic wand trick taught in this book almost daily. 
4. Beautiful Ruins - Fiction. Score: 4. There is a good love story in here. And some really captivating elements - but they were burried so far beneath a lot of filth I just couldn't get to them. 
5. The Gifts of Imperfection - Non-Fiction/Self Help - Score: 8
6. The Fault in Our Stars -Fiction. Score: 9. Loved this and had a few moments of the ugly cry.
7. A New Earth - Non-Fiction/Self Help. Score: ??  I listened to this and maybe its meant to be read because I found myself getting very lost. His voice was so monotonous and I almost dozed off. 
8. The Gift of Therapy - Non-Fiction. Score: 9
9. Me Before You - Fiction. Score: 9 - I wrote a review about this a few weeks ago. Loved it and totally recommend. 
10. Blackmoore - Fiction. Score: 9 -  Sweet love story. Very Austin-esque. 
11. Jane Eyre -Fiction. Score: 10 - In my top three favorite books. Love Love Love Jane!
12. The Silver Linings Playbook - Fiction - Score: 7.8 - I liked it. I laughed out loud. 
13. Orphan Train - Fiction.. Score: 8.5 -  Great story and one that I could relate to on many levels. 
14. Women, Food and God Non-Fiction/Self Help. Score: 9. 
15. Intuitive Eating Non-Fiction/Self Help. Score: 8. 
16. The God Who Weeps Non-Fiction -Score: 10. Incredible. Loved this book and i'm reading it through again. 
17. Spilled Milk Non-Fiction/Memoir Score: 7. Writing was immature and inexperienced. But the story held my interest. 
18. Proof Of Heaven Non-Fiction. Score: 8 Neurosurgeon tells of his near death experience.  Read the entire book on a plane ride and couldn't put it down. Definitely written by a analytical doctor. Don't expect flowery language and lots of mushy feelings stuff. 
19. The Rent Collector Fiction. Score: 9 Loved this book. A hearty dose of perspective and gratitude will follow reading this. 
20. Believing Christ  Non-Fiction/Religious Self Help. Score: 9
21. Divergent Fiction - This review will go for all three books. Score: 7.8 - I couldn't quite give it an 8. I really liked it. And I read all three books in record time. But it felt thin in parts and some of the themes and storylines a bit overused in YA fantasy. Okay, that made me sound like I'm trying to be some pretentious book critic. I just felt sometimes as if I was reading something I had already read before with different character names. Overall, it was great and I recommend it. Just not the best YA fantasy I've ever read. 
22. Insurgent (See Divergent)
23. Allegiant (See Divergent)
24. The Winter Sea - Fiction. Score: 9. Awesome historical fiction with a really good love story. 
25. Loving What Is Non-Fiction/Self Help. Score: 9.  Not everyone will get this book. But I loved it and I still ask myself almost a year after reading this "Is it True." which to me makes this one of my top books of the year. 
26. The Shadow of the Wind Fiction. Score: 8 Epic and suspenseful and feels a lot like Kate Morton's books or "Thirteenth Tale." Dark and twisted at times but one I couldn't put down. 
27. Wheat Belly Non-Fiction Score: 8 Has been life changing for me. 
28. Edenbrooke Fiction. Score: 9 If you love Pride and Prejudice then you will love this. Its a really sweet book. 

Once Upon a New Year

Dear Ethan and Tyler,
It's 2014!  Brand new years do something to me - days tick one after another and I know that the change from 2013 to 2014 is no different. However, there is something magical about new years. It feels to me as if I am getting a clean slate, the ability to change all the things I just couldn't manage the year before. And my heart always hopes that a year from now - when I have experienced all that 2014 has in store for me I will have learned and felt and experienced in a real way. I was picturing 2014 and thinking about my boys - you two -  turning 9 and 11 and I was struck with those numbers. Now I know that right now this will mean very little to you but one day when you have your son or daughter on your lap and watch them grow - you will know exactly what I am talking about. Because although you are almost 11 and 9 it really was just moments ago that you were just arriving to this world - to change it and me forever.
Tonight I sat with you two and dad listening to the music that makes us all so happy and seems to becoming such a big part of what makes us "us." And I looked over and realized that the four of us were taking up two cushions on the couch. There was one whole cushion untouched. We were so very close to one another. I didn't know families could be this way. I didn't know that happiness and peace like this could actually be real. Sometimes I hold my breath - waiting for all of it to go away. Waiting for that sinking that became such a regular part of my life - when the wind would be knocked from me, my heart would sink and I would scramble to grab whatever shred of happiness or peace I could find. Sometimes it was found sneaking into your rooms and listening to your even breathing as you slept. You breathing - in and out - was so steady. In and out - so unaware of the waves crashing down on us. In and out -so steadying and hopeful. Please let me protect them from this-in and out.  Please let them stay in this peace -in and out.
I could search all my life and I'm certain I will never be able to find words to write what you have meant to me - what you mean to me. I was unmoored. I was floating with no roots and the vastness of this life -with no family to hold me down- was for me dark and bleak. I was a boat lost in a unpredictable sea.
I am grateful that you two got to be my companions on the journey out of that storm. I am grateful that we weathered it together and incredibly grateful for the roots you gave me. I sunk my feet deep into the ground - knowing that now whether I knew how or not I had these little souls depending on me.
These past two weeks have been magical. Just being together - no work or school to pull at us. And I keep taking these little snapshots and trying to store them in my heart. I have done that for as long as I can remember. I remember doing it once when I was about your age Tyler.  And it must work because I can still remember it so clearly. I was sitting in a chair at the end of a long rectangular table. I had a plate with a hot roll and mashed potatoes on it. I looked around the table and saw my grandma Nori and my sister sitting there. We were very happy - I remember feeling so unusually happy and safe and I knew I wanted to remember this moment. I concentrated on the feelings that were filling my chest and my body. I focused on every smell and color and sound and then I pictured all of that data just floating into my body and being packaged up inside my heart. To this day - 22 years later - I can still pull all of that up and feel it.
And now, I use that to package the beauty. I know that some of this still comes from the fear of losing it. The measure to fill up my heart with the good when the bad will inevitably hit. But that is fading. I'm trusting more. Most of it comes from the desire to treasure and remember the magical moments that happen. Like four people choosing to squeeze onto two couch cushions. Or two little boys having sleepovers and chatting about how the world works.
In a few days we will go back to reality. And thats okay. But tonight I am thankful for another year on this Earth. Another year to learn and see what is in store for each of us. Another year to watch you two grow more into the little men you are becoming. And another year to squeeze onto two cushions.

Love you forever
Mom