Twenty-Seven

 Last Thursday in my Sociology 101 class, our teacher read us a story that really pierced my heart. The title was "Eleven" and if you'd like to read the pdf of it, here is the link.

This story explained a lot of my childhood feelings and as I was listening, I knew I could've written the exact same story.

And so I decided I would.


Seventeen. It was supposed to be an amazing birthday.
I woke up that day and grinned from ear to ear as I got ready and headed off to school.
Seventeen. The day I was supposed to be older and wiser, braver and happier.
I wanted life to change that day. I wanted to start over and become the person who was fighting to get out.
Seventeen. The day I came home from school and had a huge fight with my parents. The day I felt the opposite of brave and happy. The day I considered that death might be better than life because life hurt too much.
Seventeen. The day I didn't know if we would be celebrating at all. As the tears poured down my cheeks, I hugged my pillow and wanted to be eighteen...or maybe five. But not seventeen.
Seventeen. The day we made up long enough for dinner at the restaurant of my choosing. It was the day I tried steak for the first time and fell in love with it, if it's possible to fall in love with food.

But when I laid down to go to sleep that night, I was confused. Because seventeen didn't change anything about me. In fact,  a lot of my reactions from that day had come from a younger me.

Someone must've forgotten to explain that when I was seventeen, I was also three. I didn't lose that age just because a new one started.

So sometimes when I'm twenty-seven, I can hear the thirteen year old who is still trying to figure out who she is. Sometimes when I'm twenty-seven and I realize how painful divorce is, I can feel five year old me screaming as I hug my pillow really tight.
I am not just twenty-seven. 

I am twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one.

So when my eyes are burning from the tears trying to break free and I throw a fit in my room, it really is ok. Because along with being twenty-seven, I am also two. 

 When I am in need of extra attention and I feel stupid for wanting that, I try to realize that it's ok. Because along with being twenty-seven, I'm also nine.

 When someone hurts my feelings and my first response is to lash out in anger, it doesn't make me any less mature than the twenty-seven year old that I am. It just proves that along with being twenty-seven, I am also eleven. 

 This year, part of my healing is learning to break away from the fear. Because the fear contradicts my genuine emotions. When trauma set in, I stopped crying in front of others---because to me, crying is among the most vulnerable of reactions and it's scary. It's scary to feel like you're not in control of the water dripping from your eyes and the quiver in your bottom lip.

 But I don't want to be afraid of the "younger than age twenty-six" me who was able to cry and trust that she could show her feelings in front of other human beings.

I want to embrace five year old me who used to cry because her knee got scraped. And ten year old me who used to cry because her friends weren't being very nice. And sixteen year old me who used to cry because she just wanted a boy to notice her. And twenty-six year old me who was found sobbing on her friend's shoulder one afternoon in late August of 2013.

Emotions are healthy. 

Emotions are teachers and healers.

So today I am twenty-seven. But I am also twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one.
And that is never going to change. 

Worthy

 I'm trying.

I'm trying to remember who I was as a carefree little girl who didn't have a clue that I'd someday equate my worthiness to my weight, to my marriage, to my whole outward appearance.

Sometimes I try to dig deep and remember her but often times, I find it impossible.
She seems impossible.
Did she really even exist?

I've thought so much about all of the events in my life and how they've shaped me, good and bad.
There is a lot of bad, friends. 
Because the world told me that unless I was skinny, I wasn't pretty. The world told me that without money, I would never be happy. The world told me that unless I had a boyfriend or a husband, I must not be good enough.
This didn't come from one source. It seemed to come from every corner I would turn. Magazines. Commercials. Movies. Even the Disney shows I watched seemed to be telling me my best plan for happiness was to be skinny and always have a boy to love me.
I believed those things. 
Hell, I still believe those things...

I remember in high school, I liked this boy. We were in marching band together and during football season, we would spend hours on Friday nights together, either on a bus or in the band room. I would think about it all week and hope that this was the week---the week he would cuddle with me or kiss me or something! I just wanted him to show me my worth! I wanted him to prove to me that I was beautiful!

It never happened.
Instead, he dated my best friend and I got to watch from the sidelines, as my heart felt like shattering.

This was my real life in high school. Not very many other things mattered. I didn't really care about my school work---I just wanted to feel loved. I was searching for worthiness. And might I add, I was searching for worthiness in all of the wrong places.

I wasted so much of my high school experience, waiting for someone to love me---never realizing that the most important thing would be loving myself.

I never found my worthiness in high school. I don't even know if I can say I found my worthiness after high school.
In fact, I think I can confidently say that I didn't find my worthiness after high school.
I got married, had two babies, became a stay-at-home-mom, and suddenly, I found myself divorced.

Divorced. Overweight. Worthless.

I think I had convinced myself that I knew my worth when I was married. But the thing is, I was married---I had a man who automatically proved my worthiness---and when that was over, I found myself struggling all over again---and even more-so since the rejection hurt so much worse this time.

I don't think I've ever really taken the time to think about my worth as an individual daughter of God. I've seen glimpses but I don't know if I've ever had the opportunity to really grasp it before.

A part of me finds this concept to be foreign and highly unreachable. But then there is the part of me filled with faith and hope, yearning to feel as loved as my God intended me to be.

I don't quite know where to start, to begin this healing journey of my worth. I feel like I've taken so many different roads and each one of them has taught me something but I still doubt. I'm still so afraid that without marriage and weight loss, I won't be able to reach my full potential as the woman I want to be. I still feel somewhat worthless and abandoned and fearful of the future. I still question whether the people who say they love me really do---or whether they're just in my life because they feel sorry for me.

I'm at a point in my journey where I'm confused and as much as I hate being confused, I think this is where I'm supposed to be. I think I'm going to let myself stay confused until I can learn in my own time what my individual worth is.

I think it's ok that I don't have all the answers right now.

They'll come when I'm ready for them.

In the meantime, I'm going to hold on.

I'm going to try not to freak out over how busy life is and how much time I lose every day with my kids and my friends.
I'm going to continue on in school and get myself one step closer to my end goals.

And I'm going to try to love my life as much as possible. Whatever that looks like to me.
Some days, it might be only five minutes and other days, it'll last hours.
But I'm going to enjoy the moments where I'm not anxious and scared and angry.

I'm going to try to be authentic to myself.

Today I Watched Porn

 I'm assuming that title caught your attention. And I'm glad it did. Whatever reason brought you here, I hope you'll stay and hear me out through the end.

Because today I did watch porn. I wish I could have prepared more for today or been "sick" during my Philosophy of Sexuality class but I don't have the best grade right now and I can't afford to miss any assignments.

So I went---knowing we were diving into our chapter on pornography.

I figured I would have the chance to reiterate my feelings about pornography use and that our discussion, although uncomfortable for me, would give me an opportunity to stand up for what I wholeheartedly believe in.

None of those things happened.

I got into class and our teacher was holding a dvd. I couldn't make out the title other than the phrase "feminist pornography" I prayed it would be a documentary like the last one we watched. I squirmed as I waited for class to start. And after taking attendance, he announced we would be watching a video and would have to write an essay on it before next Tuesday. And then he pushed play.

It wasn't a documentary. Or maybe it was. Yeah, I guess it would be considered a documentary since there were interviews mixed up between vulgar scenes. I tried not to look up after the first exposure. I knew I had to keep my composure so I started taking notes on any of the interviews I heard and tried to let my mind wander when the interviews weren't playing.

I guess I just don't get it. Now having been exposed to mainstream pornography, I am even more at a loss as to why some people don't think pornography is dangerous.

Among my anxiety, I felt a lot of sadness---that some women are treated poorly, that some women feel suppressed and choose this lifestyle, that some people can't feel satisfied in a loving relationship with just one other person.

I don't get it. I don't want to get it.

I believe in physical love, love between a man and a woman who have vowed to be with each other for eternity.

Today brought back pain. A lot of pain. And feelings of inadequacy.

I wish that pornography wasn't available like it currently is. I wish there wasn't a chance that my very own son or daughter could stumble across the videos I watched in class today. I wish that people viewed sex as more sacred than the media tells us it is.

Because when a person becomes addicted to pornography, they start to lose the real love in their life. They have a harder time differentiating between what is real and what is completely fake.

Pornography seems equivalent to selling your soul to the devil.
I felt Satan in that classroom today. I felt the darkness that came and I felt it leave as I left the class, praying to overcome my anxiety and finish my next classes.

If there is any truth to saying that pornography can "spice up your love life" and is healthy within a marriage, I would counter by asking, "Why take the risk?"

Why risk what you have for something that could possibly harm you and your relationship?

The people you love are not worth that risk. They aren't. Real love is more powerful than anything you will be able to find on a computer screen.

Real love will always be greater.

In case you're wondering how I reacted in class today, I didn't raise my hand a single time. I couldn't. My mind had shut down and I couldn't even stand up for my values because my brain was busy focusing on getting through the class without a meltdown.
I don't exactly know why my teacher would expose our class to that material. I think he thought it was necessary but I can assure you, it wasn't.
I'm not angry. I'm just sad.

Because I think my bubble had been holding on by a thread and today, it was completely popped. Today I was exposed to so much harshness that surrounds us.

Pornography is real and it is dangerous.

Protect yourselves. Protect your families.

ANASAZI Lessons

 Raising children is hard.
Going to school is hard.
Working is hard.
Keeping my house clean is hard.

Trying to do all four of them as a single mom is hard.

And lately, I feel like I've been failing in at least 3 of these categories at a time. I've been so overwhelmed. My eyes start to droop around 7pm because I'm just so exhausted. I don't know if I've ever felt this exhausted, not even as a mom of a newborn. But maybe I just forgot what that felt like.

I've had so many nights where I lay in bed and wonder how I'm going to get everything done the next day. How am I going to have time to sweep the floor and fold some laundry and do two homework assignments and give my kids quality time with their mom?

And the thing is, I don't have time for it all. That would explain the sticky floors, the sink full of dishes, and the laundry that's been sitting in the washer for a few days. It would also explain the amount of tv my kids have watched in the past week.

I've felt like a failure so many times in the past week and most nights, I'm so close to tears when I think about the times I told Petey she had to pack her own school lunch or get her and her brother breakfast because I just couldn't do it.

But we've pushed through. When I feel like I can't keep doing this, I keep doing it anyway. I just focus on one small step at a time.

Today as I was thinking about one of my favorite motto's, "I can do hard things", my mind went back to 17 year old me.

 This is her. Her name is Kissing Sun Firefly and she spent six weeks of her summer learning how to make fire out of wood and a piece of rope, cooking with a tin can and dried foods, hiking 20+ miles a week with everything she had on her back, and sleeping under the stars every night.

Out there, I learned what it means to do hard things. There were so many nights I would cry myself to sleep because I was so lonely out there. I often felt misunderstood by my parents and even by my group of youngwalkers and trailwalkers. That first week was physically exhausting and I got so dehydrated that I was vomiting uncontrollably during one of my first big hikes.

I remember feeling like I would die out there. I remember being so embarrassed that I had gotten dehydrated and I wondered how I would ever make it. But I kept focusing on one more step and then one more and one more until finally, I had made it to our week's destination. I remember the tall grass, the ants all over the dirt, and the girl with the curliest blonde hair I'd ever seen reading her Book of Mormon to me to calm me down. I layed there under the sun, wondering how I had gotten from point A to point B without dying.

I felt like I had accomplished something so incredible that day.

A few weeks later, we were hiking through a dried up river bed and I had my hands through my sleeping bag/backpack and all of a sudden, I tripped and my hands weren't able to catch my fall. But my face did. I could feel my lip swelling as the blood ran down my chin. I couldn't do this anymore! Hiking was too hard. I couldn't handle being out in the middle of nowhere and getting hurt. But I kept going that day. I cried a lot because my battle wound really hurt but I kept hiking and we made it to our destination. That afternoon, I walked down to the dried creek bed and sang, "For Good" from Wicked over and over again. I cried. I sang. I listened to the wind. I felt peace. I knew I could finish this hard thing. I knew I could work things out with my parents and believe in myself.

I knew I could do hard things.

ANASAZI taught me lessons I still apply in my life. It was a turning point in my life. I was strong before ANASAZI but when I came back from those six weeks, smelling worse than death but feeling happier than I had in a long time, I was a warrior.

And I'm still a warrior.

I have felt so much failure recently that I have to take a step back and look at the big picture. Sometimes the small picture doesn't show me what I've accomplished because it emphasizes all of the things I'm doing wrong.

But the big picture---the big picture shows me how far I've come and how much I am capable of enduring.

So tonight, I'm not going to focus on my messy house or my children that went to bed in their school clothes. I'm going to focus on the fact that I worked five hours and came home and did homework with my daughter while babysitting two extras, and then I took 3 online quizzes and got all A's and wrote an essay.

And now I'm here and it's ok that I'm still not choosing to clean. I've done enough for today.

I can't do it all but I can do enough.

Breathing, Living, Learning, Growing

I am a huge fan of music. Music helps me cope with a lot of things in my life, especially this past year.
Lately, I've been going back to the same two songs most days.

Colbie Callait's 'Try': I have been listening to this on repeat as I sit in the carpool pick up lane at my daughter's school and start to feel anxious because that 20 minutes in the carpool lane is often my only quiet time to think about life. I turn it on when I look in the mirror and realize I was brave enough to fight my eating disorder and get myself in recovery months ago and now I'm here---and it seems like just yesterday I was there. And then I start to worry because am I good enough? Am I pretty enough? Am I smart enough? Am I a good mother? Am I worthy of someone marrying me and taking on the responsibility of my children? Will I be wonderful enough that a man would choose to do that when he could marry someone who doesn't have kids and an ex husband?

These are real thoughts and they run through my head a lot. A lot.

"You don't have to try so hard. You don't have to give it all away. You just have to get up. You don't have to change a single thing."

I feel so unworthy of dating. I feel so unworthy of love. But Colbie helps me remember how hard I'm trying and how I don't have to do that. The right guy and the right friends will love me not for how hard I try but for who I am---for who I am right this very moment.

Christina Perri's I Believe is also at the top of the list. Everytime I hear the last line of the chorus, I can feel in my heart the exact words being sung.

"I have died so many times but I am still alive."

Because I have died. I have felt loss and abandonment and insecurity times a thousand this year.

But I am still alive. I am still fighting. I am still moving on with my life.

I'm trying to be the mom my kids need and the provider they need and still be me and do things for myself.

If you're wondering how well that's working for me, refer to my mention of anxiety above...

But this is life and I'm fighting through it. I'm still breathing. I'm still waking up every morning.

These past few weeks have had a lot of hard moments intertwined with the normal busy chaos. I was planning a trip to Las Vegas with some friends and in that same week, Spidey started having meltdowns that I was leaving him so much.

I tried to spend quality time with both kids before leaving but as I drove away that night, I felt so much guilt. Because although I knew I needed some time to myself, I felt like the worst mother for walking away at the worst possible time.

I was having an incredible time. The days were some of the best I've had in a long time. But each time Spidey would call and cry, I would feel so torn between relaxing and just getting back to him and holding him.

Each day, I was laughing and relaxing and having some of the best conversations with some of my favorite people and each night, I prayed so hard that Spidey would feel comfort and that he could just enjoy his time with his dad.

Just leaving on this trip was brave for me. I have never been on a girls trip that didn't involve family members. I knew that when we started planning this, it would be tricky. Because although I have a few friends I tell everything to, I have so very many friends who mean so much to me and I've never been a fan of "clicks".

But it ended up being totally fine and I'm grateful for that because I worried about it. And I'm not the only one who worried about it.

These girls have been through a lot with me. Three of them spent the evening at the temple with me the night my husband left me. The other two have been equally incredible this year. I know this trip wasn't just planned by me and it definitely wasn't for me alone but it certainly was a perfect way to remember where I was a year ago and look at where I am today.

These friends were some of the first to know what was happening as my separation turned into divorce and they have checked in on me, even when I just wanted to stay in bed all day and cry.

Visiting the Las Vegas temple was high on my list and I'm so glad we fit it into our weekend because it was one of the highlights. I had the opportunity to really feel peace and relax and I stopped worrying about the kids for a while and think about what I needed in those moments.

Did I mention I was brave enough to wear my Porn Kills Love tshirt as we walked down the strip of Las Vegas?

The second we decided to go to Vegas, I knew I wanted to wear this shirt because this subject is something I believe so strongly in.

This is something I will never back down from. Ever.

As fearful and intimidated as I get around people, I just cannot take a back seat when the subject of pornography is brought up.

This week, in my Philosophy of Sexuality class, we watched an amazing video by the XXX Church about how porn kills. It was powerful and yet, I already knew what most of my class would think about it. As the video started, so did the snickers. The girl in front of me kept whispering to her neighbor, "That's so dumb. Porn kills what?!" and I wanted to shout, "PORN KILLS LOVE! IT KILLS MARRIAGES AND FAMILIES AND CAREERS!"

I could feel my heart beating all the way from my forehead to the tips of my toes. I felt like the video was going on forever and I wanted it to end because I knew what would happen next.

When it finally ended three hours eight minutes later, my teacher asked what our thoughts were and without another second, my hand shot up in the air. I took a deep breath and said something very similiar to this:

I know that my opinion won't be very popular among this class. I could hear the snickering and the confusion of what porn kills. I could see the eye rolls and the shaking heads. And I get it. Before last year, I didn't quite understand what pornography was capable of either. But my marriage was ruined because of pornography. My husband left me last year and my kids have had to endure our divorce and all of the pain that comes with their feelings of abandonment. Porn kills love and even if you think that statement is dramatic, I am living proof that it can be a true statement.

Pornography addiction has caused enough trauma in my life that I no longer am willing to sit in a room and not share my opinion if the subject is brought up. I knew I would not have an audience of people who understood what I have lived through but I will never regret that opportunity I had to share a part of my story with a room full of young college students.

I used to view pornography as bad mainly because of my religious beliefs but I never really knew what an addiction to pornography is capable of doing to an individual, to a marriage, and to a family.

There were some hard moments, walking around Vegas and seeing pornography and a lot of other things that made my heart so sad. This really is the world we live in.

I guess if I could just have one wish come true from all of the things I've learned it would be that each and every one of you who decides to click on my posts and read my words will do whatever you can to protect your families from pornography. And also that you'll love the people around you and have compassion. We can't understand everyone's situation but we can make a goal to try and remember that everyone has a story and everyone has trials. Try not to be hard on the people around you.


I am still alive tonight, friends. Although I've been so broken for so long, I see healing and the possibilities that come with moving on. When I look back on everything I've done this past year, I am hopeful that this next year will be full of even more growth.

God stretches me and teaches me and I am trying my hardest to learn what He wants me to learn.

And God Said, "Slow down!"

 Once upon a time, I was in the school counselor's office trying to figure out how to graduate from community college by May 2015. It was decided that I would take 17 credits Fall '14 and 15 credits Spring '15 so that I'd be ready to graduate and transfer to ASU.

I chanted the, "I can do hard things" quote in my head over and over again as I signed up for 6 classes and tried to figure out a schedule that worked for my life.

Sigh...

It took most of the summer. I kept leaving the task for another day because it was stressing me out.

Sometimes being a single mom sucks. It was so dang hard to find a schedule that would fit the classes I need and keep us in a mostly normal routine.

I finally did it and signed up for all Tuesday/Thursday classes, all during the day---except for one stupid class that I could only find on Thursday nights.

I figured the sacrifice would be something I could handle for four months. And the thing is, it was possible.

But right when school started, I decided to go back to work. And right when I decided to go back to work, Spidey started preschool.

And right when all of this happened, Spidey started crying a lot when he would get dropped off to babysitters.

And my mom guilt became a huge burden because all I wanted to do was quit everything and stay home with him all day, every day.

So let's recap:
A week into my new job and school starting, I was ready to throw it all away.
A week.

 Well, God knows me. He knows I won't just quit, even when things are really frickin hard. He knows I'll kill myself until I get everything fit into our crazy schedule.

I'm the least perfect perfectionist in the entire world. Our house is crazy, our schedule is crazy, and my kids are sticky-faced and wearing mismatched shoes.

But I'm really hard on myself and I try to fit it all in and get it all done.

 Well, due to some unforseen circumstances, I was dropped from my Thursday night class. When I found this news out, I had a moment of panic and I just wanted to crawl in a hole. But following my panic, I felt an incredible amount of peace come over me and I felt like God was saying, "Slow down!"

He knows how busy we are. He knows that it's hard for Spidey to get used to having a working mom. And I feel like he found a way to teach me that it's ok to slow down a little bit.

I can't be a super mom. I can be the mom that my kids need but I really can't be much more.

Most days, I'm just hanging on by a thread. I've been struggling a lot lately and I just can't seem to find my bravery that everyone else seems to believe I have within me. I'm not giving myself breaks. In fact, I've been pushing myself harder than ever before.

So God said, "Slow down." and all I could do was nod my head and realize that He is right.

I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm only 26 years old and my kids are still young. We can slow things down a tiny bit sometimes. As much as I want to rush through school and be able to provide a better life for my kids RIGHT NOW, I feel a whole lot of peace tonight as I think about how rushed we already are.

I can do hard things...but I don't have to push myself farther than I need to right now.

It's ok that I need to slow down. It doesn't make me weak. It just makes me human.

School Is Hard, Prayer Is Real

School was so much fun the very first semester. Not only was I blowing through my classes with awesome grades (and seriously, I had just become a single mom a week after school started so this was HUGE), I was making new friends and loving my new life outside of "mom life". It was a great time.

So I signed up for my next semester, ready to tackle the new challenges I'd face---but really, I wasn't ready. I was struggling with my worth, my testimony, single parenting, filing the final divorce papers, trying to figure out my schedule, getting my kids to school/babysitter on time, and my math class started to kick my butt a week into school.

I remember signing in to my online math class and just staring at the page crying for ten minutes. I was only a week into the class but I already felt like I wouldn't be able to make it through this class. I worried about what dropping the class or getting a bad grade would mean for my financial aid since that is a huge part of why I'm able to go to school right now. I went to the tutoring center and tried to bring my grade up. It would dip lower and lower with every bad grade I would receive on homework and quizzes. My amazing friend tried to help and spent many hours on the phone with me {she lives in Utah} trying to help me understand everything better.

But I ended up failing the class. And by failing, I mean I seriously got a LOW failing grade. I was really discouraged. I planned to sign up for summer classes but I just couldn't do it. I also usually sign up for the next semester of classes right after I finish finals but I put it off for over a month because I was so bummed about that one stupid grade.

I started doubting whether I could really do this. If my second semester in community college is so hard, am I really going to be able to get a masters degree at a university someday? Everything just seemed so far out of reach and many times, I've considered dropping out and just finding a full time job that pays well enough to support my kids.

But every time I think about getting a job and dropping out of school, I think about our future and my dreams and the reasons I am in school right now. A lot of times in my life, I have found that really hard challenges teach me the most and I'm hoping school will do the same for me. I've never felt like I was a very smart person and school is a really scary choice for me but I am trying to push forward.

I have been praying for two months that my failing grade would not take my financial aid away. I promised Heavenly Father I would do better and I prayed that He would make this possible for me to continue in school. When I signed in to my Maricopa student center today, one of the first things I noticed was my grades and under it, the words "In Good Standing".

I believe in answered prayers. I believe that God knows me and my heart and that He will help me in this journey I've decided to take on. This isn't the easy way but I believe it'll be worth it.

I never did sign up for summer classes because I needed to break to remind myself why I am doing what I'm doing. This is all for our family, not just for me. I still have two months before my next semester starts up and I am so thankful for this time with my kids before life gets undeniably crazy again. Also, I'm thankful to my mom and sisters and friends who are always willing to help me with kids when I'm in class or needing time for homework. I have such incredible support in my life and I really am grateful for that.

What Today Taught Me

I'm tired, I so badly need a shower, and my inner beast is surfacing so yes, it's time to start getting ready for bed.
But I couldn't NOT post tonight.
I just couldn't!
There is no excuse that is good enough right now for me to not tell you how I feel.

I feel grateful. Today was an amazing day. Shall we just relive it a little bit? Yes, let's do that!

This morning, after dropping P off at school, Spidey and I headed to my mom's because she was going to watch him while I went to math tutoring---bleh. Math and I have been enemies this semester. A few weeks ago, I was ready to call it quits. I couldn't handle the pressure and I couldn't handle seeing my grade (63.7%) get lower and lower. I emailed my teacher and told her I'd be dropping the online class and that I'd take it this summer at the school.
Her response caught me off guard. It went something like this: "Suzanne, I'm happy to withdraw you if that's what you really want but I would love to work with you to bring that grade back up. Don't give up yet! I'm going to open chapter 3 quiz for you and I want you to try it again. Don't hesitate to ask questions if you need to and utilize the math tutoring center."
I was very hesitant. I didn't think I could do it but that email gave me hope. I knew I needed to try.
I re-took the quiz and brought my quiz grade from an F to a B. I re-did some homework and brought those grades from D's to B's. Today I went to math tutoring and got 100% on all of my homework assignments! This is huge, people! My grade is still a D but there is now a cute little + in front of it.

So I was feeling good when I went to pick up my Lil Mr from grandma's house. We came home, I signed on to Facebook before we were going to head out to the gym and I saw that my cyber-friend was having a crazy morning.
Let's back up a bit with the story of my new friend. I'd like to start by pointing out that I have 100% utilized this year's word, brave, when it comes to making this new friend. I read a blog post last month that TC had written about National Eating Disorder Awareness, which inspired me to write this post on my blog. I wanted so badly to write her a message on Facebook but hesitated because that isn't just a thing you do to people you don't know. Anyway, a few weeks later, I saw TC post on my daughter's school Facebook page and realized our kids go to school together! For some reason that made it seem less creepy so I messaged TC and gave her my life story. Just kidding---kind of.
So we became cyber bff's and planned to meet someday soon.
Flashforward to "someday soon".
Last night, TC and I were texting because I realized we are in the same stake! Is the world seeming smaller yet? I thought it was so funny that we were a teeny bit more connected than we were before.
So...today. Today TC was having a crazy day and I knew exactly what I was going to do. I FB messaged her and asked for her address and favorite snack.
She didn't respond.
I texted her and asked her for her address and favorite snack.
She didn't respond.
I threatened to look up her address if she didn't respond.
She didn't respond.
I texted her to tell her I was on my way.
She didn't respond.
(Would it be important to tell you she was painting her house so the lack of response wasn't because she thinks I'm as crazy as I actually am?)
So I got brave and showed up at her house with a bag full of different snacks.
You guys, I was so afraid she'd think I was crazy but since I felt insta-connected to TC, I hoped she wouldn't call the cops.
Don't worry, she didn't. And my bravery won me a new friend today. A real new friend.

So I left, feeling happier than happy. And it wasn't even the "service" kind of happy, it felt like a real happy. I felt like this day could be the first day of the rest of my life. Cheesy, right?
I digress...I went to the gym and kicked the crap outta my mile run. I shaved 30 whole seconds off of my run. Booyah.

This afternoon, we needed to clean the house. Really badly, we did. But the kids were oh so whiney and cranky so we started with a bike ride. I even mustered up a little bit of patience and jogged next to Spidey so I could help him with the two-wheeler he's known how to ride for 6 months but thinks is scary. He mastered it beautifully and by the end, was riding almost as well as his pro-bike-riding sister. Another booyah.
We got a little bit of cleaning done before the whining and crankiness started up again so we stopped for a dance party, including but not limited to shaking our booties, jumping on my bed, wrestling, and a crud-load of laughing. It was perfect for a minute---a minute is accurate.

So today was great and the cherry on top was posting on our neighborhood page to see if someone could grab me some conditioner if they were at the store tonight {because this girl is in serious need of a shower right now} and having a wonderful friend send her daughters to the store just to get me conditioner.

People are so freaking amazing.

Tonight I decided something that was probably already decided but was reiterated a thousand times over today.

 

This girl is going to be just fine.

2014: Day 20 and 21

 Day 20: This month.
Day 21: A moment
Don't ya think we could just take "a moment" from "this month" and count that? Since I've been so busy with homework, that is what we are doing for this post.
I found my camera a few weeks ago when school started {It was in my backpack} and I wanted to update you on some happenings from this month. It's been a good month so far.

The day I started school, Spidey was pretty bummed that he was the only one not going to school during the day now so I packed him a backpack to take with him to Grandma's house. Doesn't he just look so happy? He thought it was pretty cool that all 3 of us had backpacks on that day.
School has been good so far. I am taking 2 classes at the college and 3 classes online---because I'm crazy. So far, only some minor hiccups in my math class. I'm getting the hang of the schedule and learning how to balance my time, which really just means getting on the computer to do homework every free second I have.

 Petey has been busy busy busy with dance! They have started basketball season and she is going to have performances every couple of weeks now. Her schedule has been killing us all because it's 6-8pm instead of the normal 4-6pm so that they can be combined with the older girls. Coming home at 8:30pm on school nights messes up our nighttime routine. But it's ok because she's happy and we are happy to support her.

 One of the nights she was at dance, some other dance moms and I went to get pedicures. We all have a little boy with us and Spidey loves hanging out with his best buddy. They played so quietly on the iPad. I'm so glad they have each other to stay entertained while we are busy doing dance things with their big sisters.

 Last Friday, Petey came running in crying, saying her finger was cut. Then Spidey comes in, puts his hands on his hips and says, "I told her not to play with the box cutter." What?! It was bleeding like crazy and I drove her to our favorite pediatrician {Grandpa}. Luckily, she didn't need stitches because of how it cut her finger but it had to be wrapped in gause for a few days.

 We celebrated Ellie's birthday! How is this girl 2 already? And yet, how is she not 3? She is the smartest 2 year old I know. And the silliest. You'll see more of that later.

The weekends I have without my kids are usually spent like this...

 This would be about 2:30 in the morning.

 Seriously. My friends are awesome. And last weekend was so much fun, even though I only got 2 hours of sleep and didn't even take a nap the next day. It was a miracle that I was functioning!

Then yesterday, we all went to our favorite pizza place, H&H City Pizza in Chandler because my sister is visiting from Virginia.

 My cousin owns this restaurant and I'd eat there every day if I could. It is always so delicious!

 I love these girlies together. Petey really loves Ellie.

 Isn't this newest addition just precious?! I love holding him.

This last series of pictures is Ellie with her MANY "silly" faces. She is such a ham!

 This one is a true scowl---she did not appreciate that Petey was trying to get in on the pictures too. ha!

It's been a whirlwind of a month. I'm grateful I have the opportunity to go to school, be a mom, participate in church activities, hang out with friends and family, and so many other things! My life i hectic and busy but I feel like I've done pretty well with this 30 day challenge, all things considered. :)

2014: Day 14

Day 14: A Life Goal

When I was little, I dreamed of someday becoming a surgeon or a pediatrician. My mom would often catch me watching Trauma: Life in the ER on tv and would quickly make me change the channel because that show is scary-gross. But surgeries always intrigued me.
A huge part of me wanted to help other people but there was a part of me that just thought it sounded really cool to slice somebody open and sew 'em back up.

Then I was sent to ANASAZI and I thought, "Now that's what I want to do someday!" So when I graduated, I enrolled in psychology classes among my other general studies.

Then I got married and school became an after thought because we wanted to get pregnant pretty quickly.
And we did.
And we now have two children.

It wasn't until a few years ago that I thought about starting school back up again. How hard can it be with two young kids, right?
But it never worked out because I had just become a stay at home mom and I didn't want to give up any of that time with my children.
Then a year and a half ago, something changed in me. We started seeing a marriage counselor and she was a mother. I often wondered how she could juggle both lives. How could she live two successful but opposite lives? And it was then that I realized people jump in head first and do hard, scary things. They take risks and a lot of times, those risks pay off. Mothers can accomplish things just the same as anybody else. Even single mothers.

So a year and a half ago, I decided to sign up for school but it took me a while to get in to a counselor and kick start everything so the summer of 2013 is when I signed up for my first classes. Petey and I started school within weeks of each other and there was a lot of change in our home including but not limited to: kindergarten routine, college routine, separating in our marriage, the baby I watched moving to Minnesota, and Spidey starting up some playgroups and things to stay busy. August was a blur, as was September and most of October.

But we survived and that's all that matters! I took English, Math, and 2 Psychology courses and ended up with two A's and two B's. Not bad for the hectic semester that it was.

So then December rolled around and I realized I needed to get signed up for my next semester. Since there are no other adults living in my home, it was hard dropping the kids off to their dad 3 nights a week and not picking them up until 10 or 11pm so this semester, I started morning classes while my sweet, sweet, SWEET mother watches Spidey and my friend keeps Petey after school for 45 minutes.

Today was the first day and everything went smoothly. I couldn't believe it. I'm just overwhelmed with gratitude for the help people are willing to give.

So I'm a full time student. And I have a very specific long term goal and that is to get a bachelors degree in Psychology and a masters degree in Marriage and Family Therapy.

I knew what I wanted to do my senior year of high school. I knew what I wanted to do the whole time we were in marriage counseling. And now I'm lucky enough to be making those dreams a reality. It's going to be scary and hard and time consuming and stressful but I can do hard things. And this is the year I choose to be brave.

To that little girl, so full of dreams: I hope you're proud of who you are becoming. Because you should be.

On Zombie, Losing my Cool, and Getting Good Grades

It was a rotten, exceptional, horrible, amazing night. So many mixed emotions right now.

I'm still catching my breath from all of the chasing and giggling we did together a few hours ago. My heart was pounding and I could hardly breathe by the end. We played "zombie" which is apparently the exact same thing as tag but whoever is 'it' is the zombie.
It was wonderful.

Then, I got caught up in a letter I'm sending to our favorite missionary because I have a package I want to get sent tomorrow. I asked the kids to take a shower, something I let them do by themselves often. After a while, I walked into the bathroom to soap those cute kiddos up and for some reason, the bathtub was filling up. Since my tub doesn't have a plug, I panicked and asked them what they had shoved down the drain. After a few 'I don't know's' and 'We didn't do anything's', Petey fessed up that she had stuck a bunch of toilet paper down the drain to plug it up.
I lost my cool. I've been trying so hard not to but I did. I shut the water off, pulled them both out of the shower, dressed them and sent them straight to bed. No prayers, no hugs, no kisses. And then I sat down at my computer desk feeling more guilty than ever.
These kids are fragile. I knew it the whole time I'd been yelling. Something inside of me was telling me to let it go but I couldn't. I got angry. They should know better! They do know better!

I've yet to figure out the shower mess. I decided to let myself cool down and then walk into each child's room and place a kiss on their forehead and whisper I love you's, hoping they'd hear them in their dreams.

After all of that drama, I signed back into the computer, eager to see if my Psychology of Gender teacher had posted any more grades. I'm waiting for her to post grades for my big gender project and TWO exams I took last week {one was a make-up since I'm dumb and forgot to take it 2 months ago}. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that my gender project was graded. After a hard semester with this teacher, I was worried that she would give me a bad grade which would give me a bad grade in the class. To my delight, I noticed a 50/50 at the top of the page. I was ecstatic. I then read her sweet notes to me on how she loved my project. She asked me if the girl with the gorgeous blue eyes was mine, I was proud to answer yes. I used this picture below for the beginning of my project.

It was the picture header on the website I had to create.
I put a lot of time and effort into that project and it felt so good to be recognized for my hard work.

The subject we had to write on was actually very near and dear to my heart. It has been since before Petey was born but especially since after her birth. If you'd like to view my website project, go here. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot of things from doing it.

What a great way to end my first semester back at college. I have a feeling I'm going to like this a lot more than I originally thought. College may be a lot of work but that work pays off.

I'm thinking 2 out of 3 are good odds for tonight being wonderful. I think I'll go kiss my kids one more time before I head off to bed and hope they forgive me in the morning.