Welcome Winter

We finally got our first snow. I love it.
If you click on the first picture, you can see the most beautiful glint of sunlight on the top of the tree branch.

Get back with me in three days when I'm taking pictures of brown slush and raw fingers.

Dontcha Know I Love You, Sweet Sadie...

So I had this little reality slap last week. The harsh truth of the aging process was thrown right at me. Observe this picture:


This is my college roommate and BFF Tiffany. She is one in a million. Here you can see Brandi, Tiffany and me. One of us is in labor. Two of us are there to lend moral support and possibly catch a flying newborn. Ah, good times. Good times.

This was my first experience with childbirth, and it was eye-opening to say the least. Wow. I can't believe I went on to have any of my own. Tiff was great though, and her beautiful daughter Sadie was born that day. That day was twelve years ago. TWELVE YEARS, people!

Wasn't she a gorgeous little newborn? I was quite the midwife. I stood there and stared at my poor exposed friend and thought HOLY CRAP, THAT MUST HURT LIKE HELL. I vaguely remember Tiff screaming at me not to look anymore, maybe she was afraid I was going to pass out.
So a few months down the road, Tiff was ready to start back to school. She needed a babysitter. I was up for the job. Or so I thought. What I really was up for was a total wardrobe and hair makeover, but that's another story in and of itself.

So I got to babysit the cutest little thing on earth. And Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln, that child could scream! My starkest memory is still being in sweatpants in the middle of the day, and wanting to take a shower and "do my hair" (we see how that worked out for me). I had to sit Sadie on the floor of the bathroom, and I kept sticking my head out the shower curtain saying, "Hey! Could you please stop screaming?" She didn't obey. Obviously I wasn't really ready for parenthood. Maybe not even really ready for babysitting.

Here is Sadie, a few years later, holding my newborn. Oh, my SCREAMING newborn. I guess they all do that. Who knew! Thanks for breaking me in, little girl.

Sadie is now twelve. She is absolutely stunning. She is athletic and smart; she sings, travels, and makes killer Valentine cards. She lives with her mom and dad and now has three siblings. I don't offer to babysit any of them, because Sadie broke me.

I can't believe she is twelve. Those years flew by literally in the blink of an eye. I also can't believe her mom used an upside down five instead of a two on her birthday burrito.

I love you Sadie!! I'm so proud of you and love hearing about all of your accomplishments. Happy Birthday!!

Clarity

We have an extremely talented congregation when it comes to music in my church. Today the choir gave their Christmas program, and it was something else. It was very emotional for me, probably for a lot of reasons. The first reason is likely because I chose to wear a full face of makeup today, so Murphy's law would require me to cry excessively and ruin it.

But there are other, less shallow reasons as well.

As you may or may not know, both my husband and I have just finished fairly intense legal negotiations with our ex-spouses. It has been an exhausting and seemingly endless process. There was a lot of negativity on everyone's part, and that is very draining. I think we have these ideals of how we hope everything can be... people working together to do what's best for our children; putting past issues in the past; open communication. These things do not often happen, and it can be discouraging.

I am also afraid I may have reinjured my back sometime in the past couple of days. This, to me, is terrifying. When my pain was at its worst about a year and a half ago, I could only crawl for the first hour or two of every day. It was pathetic, intense, and very depressing. I was on a lot of medication, which really screwed with my system (oxycontin, anyone?). I found my limitations to be more than my active self could stand. Not to sound dramatic here, but regaining normalcy felt like a miracle to me. When I felt some of this pain resurface this weekend, it really scared me, because I do not want to go through that whole process again.

All things considered, I have felt a little stressed out lately. But today in church, our choir sang a song called "And His Name Shall Be Called Wonderful". Their voices were so beautiful, and the message of the song was so touching to me, that I literally felt those burdens lifted from my heart. I don't have experiences like this very often. So when I have them, they are precious to me. The song says,
Unto us on this holy night

Unto us beneath a new star's light

Unto us where the lambs have fed

Gently laid in a manger bed

Unto us a child is born

Unto us a son is given

And his name shall be called Wonderful

For the world will be healed by his power

He will be our unfailing Counselor

In each uncertain hour

Those last lines touched me the most. He will be our unfailing Counselor in each uncertain hour. My hours of uncertainty have been many, and my need for counsel has been great. But so often I have not sought Him whose counsel would most guide me. I understand that a mere belief in God and Christ will not give me a life void of trial. But my ability to rise above those trials is so clearly tied into the level of faith I maintain; why is that so difficult at times to remember and apply?

I am thankful that the Lord is keenly aware of me. He knows my fears, my struggles, and the things that make my heart hurt. And today, for a brief moment, they were all removed and there was a simple yet powerful peace in their place. It's as if I had the clarity of eternity; of understanding that these things really don't matter in the long run. They are a part of my life, and they probably won't just go away. But the birth of a baby- a simple birth which brought us the Savior of the world, gave to me an unfailing Counselor for those uncertain hours. What a blessing; what a reason to give thanks.

I Cannot Go To School Today, Said Little Peggy Ann McKay

So. Here I am, home sick. Couldn't go in to work today because I am probably contagious. And unlike some supermoms named Martha who can still accomplish the extraordinary while violently ill, I become a useless mass of nothing. Observe with me the anatomy of my sickroom:

1. Extra comforter. Key component in my attempt to "sweat it out".

2. Laptop. If I'm not leaving bed all day, I gotta have something to do.

3. Sucrets. As my adoring husband so kindly pointed out this morning, those are not actually breath mints, and I may want to consider adding some to my side table.

4. Water: I'm flushing my system. Only it seems to be missing the key area of my sinus cavities.

5. Nasal Four: The spray that keeps me among the living. Literally. I refuse to breathe through my mouth. I find it repulsive, plus it hurts my throat. However, my nose will not actually perform that function for me at this point in time, so I have to coax it along with some decongestant spray.

6. Kleenex: I asked my husband if he could sneak away for lunch today. He said yes. I said, "That's great, because I'm almost out of Kleenex. I'd like you to stop at the store and pick me up some Puffs with Vicks Vapor in them. Thanks." He's such a lamb.

7. Theraflu Warming Relief, Orange Flavor: Dose it up, baby! I just keep a little shotglass on the nightstand. Watch out for the worm.

8. Cell Phone: People like me to call when I'm sick. They like to hear all about it. Especially my husband. Actually, he prefers I call, even when he's in the living room... that way he can avoid my sinus/sucret breath.

9. Bath and Body Works Softest Robe Ever: I'm considering wearing it down to the mailbox to send my Christmas cards today. I can't take it off. It's like a second skin.

10. Extra Pillow: Propping up assists with drainage. This is important. Also, I can type better if I'm propped up.

NOT PICTURED:

-My Vicks Warm Mist Vaporizer. A good cleansing steam contributes to the flushing out process.

-My Vicks Vaporub Mentholatum: I put some on last night, my husband pointed out that it was sort of the antithesis of the Almond Vanilla Warming Massage Oil. He then pointed out that the use of Vaporub was a good indicator that we would be going straight to bed. Sorry to disappoint, my love. Vaporub = no lovn tonight.

So there you have it. I sent my kids off to school today, and I am comfortably quarantined in my sick bay. I think I'll take a nap now.

Riddle Me This...

So. This is me. Laying on the couch, feeling pretty proud of myself. I went to the gym today. My super amazing husband got me a membership for our anniversary this month. I've been dying to go, but as I've mentioned ad nauseum, I have back problems. So I quit exercising about 2 years ago when they first began. The back problems have more or less subsided, however the exercise has not resumed. Sure we did some biking and hiking this year, but I'm talking regularly scheduled body-toning, firming, sculpting, shaping, cardio-enhancing exercise. You know the kind of which I speak. The kind where you don't have to wait for the kids to catch up. The kind where you can put on your Ludacris and not worry you won't hear if a kid falls off the bike, or worse yet... off the mountain. Uninterrupted, unadulterated, self-serving exercise.
OH how I love it!!!

However... there is something that needs discussing. I may be a weirdo, but I have serious issues with locker room exposure. My husband showers daily with other men. It doesn't phase any of them in the slightest. I find it completely bizarre. Let me clarify that by saying after they do PT, the cadre all shower in the same locker room. He doesn't just randomly shower with men for fun. Hmmm... This is going nowhere really fast. Back to the topic at hand...
The women's locker room. I like my body. I do. There are a few things I would tweak here or there, but over all, I'm very satisfied with things. But I do not want other people looking at me in my underwear, or worse yet, out of my underwear. But I have this theory that I am the only one on earth who feels that way. Or at least certainly the only one in the locker room. I have to go into the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, there is a literal smorgasbord of mostly unclothed women standing out in the locker area, just doing their thing. They don't seem concerned that their bodies aren't firm, their hooters hit their navels, or that their underwear is not at all cute.
Now before anyone goes and gets all insulted here, I'm not knocking body types. I'm just saying I don't want to see them. Any of them. And I cannot fathom why more people don't feel this way. What is wrong with a little privacy? Good for you!, people... at the gym, taking care of health and wellness! WOO! But why celebrate with near-nudity? WHY? Why is it socially acceptable to be naked around total strangers, or even people you know, just because you are in a locker room? If you were showering at home and a friend stopped by, you wouldn't invite them to join you. Or if you were changing clothes and a friend stopped by, you would likely say "HANG ON! I'LL BE RIGHT OUT!" rather than saying "Hey! I'm changing! Come on in and join me!"

Can we PLEASE apply these same principles to the locker room? Please? Is that asking too much?