Why I Hate Running but Do It Anyway

I am not a fan of running. I never really have been. Remember the Presidential Fitness Test in school? Yeah, that wasn’t really my thing. That mile we had to do… I walked it because I didn’t like sweating. I never really did sports, unless you count one season of flag football in 6th grade (yes, you can be a feminist at age 11), and one year of show choir (that’s physical activity, right?). So, a few years ago, when I decided to give the Couch to 5K program a try you could say I was less than enthused, but still amazingly, defying all odds, motivated.

Somehow that early interval training (I can say that now, because, you now, I’m a “runner” and all…) turned into running a different 5K every month for a 12 months, which turned into logging 3 miles every day for a month (and, can I just tell you, that was a really cold April around here...ice + me running = giggles for anyone who happened to be watching), which turned into conquering a 10K (over six miles, which kind of blew my mind), and, this October, a half marathon (that’s right, over 13 flipping miles). I’m not bragging, I promise (you would know this if you could see me “run”), and I certainly didn’t do it all overnight (it’s been about 3 years so far). I’m kind of astounded and mostly surprised. Running hasn’t completely transformed my life; it hasn’t made me a runway model; it hasn’t always been a constant, either. I’ve messed up. I’ve taken breaks that were intended to only be a week off...which morphed into a couple of months off (stupid winter...and my hatred of treadmills and running inside)...

But I do it anyway because it makes me feel stronger. It provides time to focus on nothing or to let my mind process what’s happening in my life. I don’t feel winded going up and down stairs or hills. My digestion is better (who knew?!). Most importantly, I know that I can accomplish goals--even in realms that aren’t my forte.

So I’m going to keep setting goals.

What activities do you do that you don’t necessarily love, but that help you love yourself more? 

Like Brushstrokes in a Portrait

I have a propensity to set large and elaborate goals for myself. Currently, I’m working on a list: 30 before 30. Which is exactly what it sounds like, 30 goals to accomplish before my 30th birthday, two and a half years from now. 

In the past, most, if not all of the goals I have set are forgotten within weeks. I look through journals I wrote in high school, all filled with unfulfilled albeit worthy aspirations.  Had I stuck with every goal I’d ever set out to fulfill, by now I would probably be a bilingual journalist, living in a foreign country running marathons. I would know magic, be filled with historical knowledge, dabbling in paleontology, and occasionally I’d be seen on stage. Sounds impressive right? As it so happens that is not an accurate description of my life. I got so caught up in the failure of my attempts, or the effort it took to achieve my lofty goals, that I would give up entirely. Lets face it, its just easier not to try. 

In the past year or so, I've noticed a change occurring. Most of the goals I now set are achieved. Most likely this change has occurred because of age and maturity. I also have a new attitude and perspective.  What I've learned that makes the most difference is: Be patient with yourself, and enjoy the journey. 

About four and a half years ago, fueled with good intentions I decided I would run a grand, full scale marathon. This was a pretty lofty goal, considering I'd never run a mile in my life. Not even when it was required of me for a grade at school. One day, for whatever reason I decided I was a marathoner. I put on some running shoes and ran out the door. Boy I was tired. I finished quickly (I don't know if I made it down the street) and came back home. I tried again a few days later. Maybe this isn’t what I really wanted. After a few weeks, my short lived desire to run a marathon was abandoned.

Flash forward to one and a half children later. My second pregnancy pushed my body to the limit. I determined somewhere around month 7 that if I ever made it to delivery, I would become a runner. I would actually start to appreciate my body for all it could do. If I could create a human being, I could certainly run. This time I decided to make a plan. I dedicated time, I gained knowledge, and when my baby was born, I began working on my goal. Things were slow at first. I started using the couch to 5k program. One of my friends began running with me. Four months after I began running, I ran my first 5k in 26 minutes.  I actually enjoyed running once I decided that I didn't need to be an elite runner the second I decided to lace up my shoes.

Right before my first 5k

Eventually I increased my mileage and last November, I completed my first half marathon. It was a full year from the time I started the couch to 5k to the half. The feeling of accomplishment was much greater than if it had been an easy undertaking. I found joy in the work, in the failure, in the try. I learned that my body can do hard things, my running partner became one of my closest friends, I learned to push myself to the limit, I learned that I can literally talk myself into enduring the run long after I assumed my body would give out. I keep going.

 David A. Bednar describes our efforts in life like a painting. Close up, the brush strokes don’t always makes sense, but as you step back and look at the painting as a whole, you can see how each stroke you make contributes to the portrait of our soul.

Each time I made the effort to put on my shoes and hit the pavement  my confidance grew, as well as my strenght and endurance. Becoming consistant, changing my habits little by little changed my perspective and my ability. This is true of any skill we hope to develop, whether its mastering a language, perfecting a craft, or just adjusting our character. 

Be patient with yourself. Each time you try, you put paint on your canvas.  When all is said and done, step back and look at the completed portrait of who you have become. Everything worth accomplishing is worth the time, effort, and fail. 

5 Ways to Own Your Finances

Don't forget today is the last day to enter our giveaway!

Okay, okay. I know that finances don't typically fall into the category of loveliness. Bear with me.

My husband and I are aren't bad with money. We've never had any debt except a little student loan debt and a small moving-related setback right after we got married. But we also haven't managed to save a whole lot, and since our main current source of income was until recently commission-based rather than salaried, it could sometimes be a little nerve-wracking waiting for the next paycheck to come, especially when some months it might still not be enough.

But I'm telling you, our family started the first budget that we've really stuck to in a long time, and it feels lovely. Here are some of the things that have really helped us cut down our unnecessary spending and get money in savings for the first time in our two years of marriage. (Note: some of the things we've been doing were inspired by Brain Ford's 8 Pillars of Financial Greatness. It is awesome.)

1. Base your budget on the things you value most. If you value your family, travel, and staying out of debt, why would you spend your money on cars you can't afford, too much fast food, and expensive electronics? Sit down with your family, make a list of the things you value most, and then look at what you spend your money on. You will probably be shocked at how much you spend on things you actually don't care about at all, and how quickly little nothing purchases eat away at your money. Our list of values looked something like this (except there were a bunch more): 
   • Family - future and extended (i.e. having enough money to meet our obligations to current and future kids, and being able to visit our family in other states)
   • Security - having a place to live and a reliable car, being able to afford food and gas and stay out of debt
   • Relationships - being able to spend time together and build memories (vacations, date nights, fun outings together, etc.)
   • Health - being able to pay for insurance so we can go to the doctor if necessary; being able to eat healthy foods
   • Etc.
   Once we saw our values written out, it was easy to make some choices that had been hard before. For example, I wanted to use our tax return to buy a new computer, but when I really thought about what I valued, I realized I'd rather wait on the computer and instead put aside some savings so we can afford to have more kids, and so we can go to visit family in Texas this summer.
2. Establish an emergency fund. It doesn't have to be huge at first, but you should consistently add to it, and you shouldn't touch it except in an emergency. Your TV going out in the middle of football season is probably not an emergency. Your furnace going out in the middle of winter is. If you have an emergency fund, you don't have to go into debt when your car breaks down or you find out you have twelve cavities, and you don't have to lose your financial momentum (especially if you're paying off debt) or destroy your budget to take care of it. You have the money saved, you pay for your emergency and carry on with your life. We had a large tax refund this year and put $1000 nest egg in our emergency fund, which made me feel awesome.
3. If you can't figure out why your money disappears so fast, switch to cash and debit cards instead of credit cards. Credit cards are convenient, and some people pay them off at the end of each month and just use them to get rewards without going into debt, which is fine. (Using them to buy things you can't afford so you end up paying twice what the thing cost in the first place is probably a bad idea though.) That said, there is definitely a switch that goes off in your head when you have to hand the cashier $50 in cash. It will make you think about everything you add to the cart. (I kid you not, we have put back a bag of sausages before or decided not to buy olive oil until next week just because we have our grocery budget in cash. Maybe it's silly that we walk through the grocery store going, "$43.50! $47! $51!," but we stick to our budget.) We pull out our money for our groceries, gas and discretionary funds at the beginning of the month, and we don't spend any more than that on those things, even if we have it in our bank account.
4. If you share finances with someone else, you should each have a discretionary fund. There are things you want to buy that your partner doesn't care about. There are things your partner spends money on that you think are stupid. Establish a certain small amount each month that you can each spend without feeling like you need to justify it to your partner, and without feeling guilty about spending your family's money. Budgets feel a little like diets sometimes, and diets always go better if you get to eat some of the things you love even though you're cutting back overall. Having a discretionary fund will make you feel less stifled by your budget (so you won't suddenly splurge in revolt), but it will also make you aware of what you're spending on little purchases here or there. Because we take that money out in cash, we can also save it if we want to make a bigger purchase for ourselves, and it doesn't end up getting spent on something for the kids or the car. Last month I bought a couple of t-shirts for myself at the beginning of the month, a couple of treats for myself and my husband somewhere in the middle, and went out to lunch and to Old Navy with a friend at the end of the month. I didn't have to worry about whether I was spending money we didn't have because it was mine, and it had already been figured into the budget. 
5. Automate your budget as much as possible. A lot of your monthly bills will let you set things up so you can have them automatically deducted from your checking account. In the same manner, you can (gasp!) have money pulled directly from your paycheck into various savings accounts - then you don't even have to look at it when it comes in - you just start assuming you have less money to spend, until that day when you have lots of money to spend, on something neat like a house down payment. We have all of our monthly bills (utilities, student loans, insurance, etc.) deducted automatically from our account, plus we transfer money from each paycheck into different savings accounts: one for emergencies, one for travel, one for our next baby (so we don't have to spend nine months paying the next one off like we did with the first one.) 

Being aware of your finances is not a drag. It's liberating when you start to realize you can save a little money and you aren't panicked when the bills come in each month. It might not happen all at once, but no matter how much money you make, having good financial habits will make you feel more in control of your life. And that is lovely.

Coping Mechanisms

So . . . my life is crazy right now (but only for 4 more weeks!) I'm planning my Utah wedding to my Texas-dwelling fiance from my apartment in Indiana while working three jobs and finishing the last semester of my Master's degree. I mentioned in my last post that I may have had one or two breakdowns. This week, I want to address my recently developed anti-breakdown coping mechanisms. I developed a plan for myself this week, and it was  . . . surprisingly effective.

Let me say first, that normally, I am not prone to this awesome breakdown-filled lifestyle. I am prone to stress, though, and when I have multiple things to be stressed about, it builds up to epic proportions that sometimes result in some wonderful meltdowns about really important things like the Netflix queue. Think of these as preventative emergency coping mechanisms. :)

1. Identify what causes you to get worked up. What sorts of things are upsetting or stressful to you? How do they get blown out of proportion? If it's something solvable, make a plan to solve it. If you can't do anything about it, decide how you will deal with that too. (For instance, all semester, I've stressed quite a bit about moving to Texas, and people ALWAYS want to talk to me about it. I know it will be fine when I get there, but when I talk about it, I think about plenty of reasons why it might not be. I've finally started saying, "You know, I appreciate your excitement, but I can't think about this right now. Can we talk about something else?" That way, I avoid telling them about all of my fears - and dredging them up again for myself.) I spent this week shutting down internal and external conversations about the things I couldn't do anything about yet, and making concrete plans to successfully deal with the things that can be done now. 
2. Identify what makes you feel better. I actually made a physical list last week of what makes me feel better when I'm upset. (Getting up for a drink of water. Going for a walk or a drive. Watching Pushing Daisies or Buffy or Doctor Who. Flirting with my fiance over Skype. Eating Oreos.) If I have a list of options in place, I know exactly what I should do when I feel myself starting to get upset, and I don't have to figure it out when my judgment is clouded by an overabundance of stress adrenaline.
3. Tell someone calming about your stress and your plan to cope with it. Figure out whether there are ways this person can help you to stop the impending overload before it comes to tears. Having someone to talk your stress level down over ice cream is invaluable. 

You, too, can cope with your stress, whether it's finals or holidays or children or whatever other curveballs life throws at you. A little planning goes a long way.

Image source: http://www.wolfescape.com/Humour/WorkStress.htm

If Women Like It, It Must Be Stupid

I've been trying to write this post since July 3, and the other day I came across an article that has really helped give some definition to what I'd been trying to say. That day--July 3--was my friend Lori's birthday, and the day that I saw Eclipse. This post is about what happened as I was leaving the movie.

The first thing you should know is that I love the Twilight books. I read them four years ago, when only the first two were out. I read them multiple times; I gushed about them with my roommates, who were also reading them; I went to Stephenie Meyer's website, downloaded the songs on the playlists she had to accompany the books, and listened to them constantly.

Then I saw the movies. On the one hand, I think they are pretty terrible as movies go. The dialogue is painful, Jasper walks around looking like he has something stuck up his bum, and Kristen Stewart is the Monotonous Expressionless Wonder. But on the other hand, all ridiculousness aside, watching the movies somehow feels like watching the books. I like that.

So Lori, Meredith, Bethany and I went to the movie. We watched; I wondered where Jasper and Carlisle got their new accents, tried not to laugh when Jacob said "I am hotter than you," and was impressed when Bella actually raised her voice for once. 

The whole time, and indeed whenever the Twilight franchise is mentioned, my inner snob wanted to point out that I'm not in this the way others are. I'm not obsessed, I would never wear a shirt with Edward or Jacob on it, I refuse to be on anyone's "team." But that day, as I was leaving the movie, I had a thought:


Why do I have to excuse myself about this? Why do I feel the need to qualify my love of these books with explanations about how I actually hate vampire stories in general, how I don't like the movies and won't buy the merchandise? What is wrong with liking Twilight?


The article I mentioned at the beginning of this post is called "Eat, Pray, Love: If women like it, it must be stupid." It's about how people write off that book because it's about a woman's journey to find herself, and because it's primarily women who love it. (This, might I point out, is because of a lovely phenomenon--discussed in this article about the same topic--in which women will read and watch things about men, but men will not do the reverse.) And reading this article, plus a blog post about it by my uncle, made me realize that this ridiculous attitude is exactly what I was exemplifying in my on-the-fence, love/hate relationship with Twilight.


Okay, so, it's true: Women do like a lot of stupid things. Guess what. So do men. (May I remind you of the existence of this.)


When a lot of men like something, people don't think it's ridiculous. Macho, yes. Violent, probably; involving scantily clad women, very likely. But when a lot of women like something, people assume it's worthless.


It turns out that everything doesn't have to be the ultimate in literary (or cinematic) quality for there to be something legitimately worth loving about it. No, Stephenie Meyer isn't going to be winning any Pulitzers. So what? Instead, she has created something that appeals to women all over the world, of totally different generations and backgrounds and circumstances. There is something special about that, and what I realized that day when I was leaving the theater is that I am glad to be a part of it.


It is a lot of fun to have this in common with my aunts, my nieces, my mother-in-law, my friends, the girl who works at the library who always talks to me about YA books, the women I go to church with, and the few men I know who were adult enough to try reading it and honest enough to admit they liked it. (Yes, my husband is one of these--he read it even before I met him.)


To my mind, this attitude is a matter of insecurity. Sometimes we don't want to like something because of the stigma associated with that thing. I consider myself a well-read person; I love meaningful, "important" books; I tend to turn up my nose at "summer beach reading," romances, and Oprah's book club.


But I don't need to be afraid that liking Twilight will make me less smart. I don't need to pretend that I don't like something because I'm afraid that it will give the wrong impression of what kind of person I am (see the lovely Melissa's post from the recent contest). And as a culture, we don't need to belittle the things that women like just because women like them.


It's not a secret that women are often under-appreciated, underestimated, and trivialized in the cultures of the world. But that trend is not one in which I want to participate. So from now on, I am out of the closet.


I am a smart girl who loves literature, learning, and the English language. I like to know about the world. I like to defy convention. I like to be myself in spite of what others think.


And I like Twilight. 

Lesson Learned, Melissa: Don't Limit Yourself

Contest entry #2, by one of our frequent guest writers, Melissa Turney, who now runs the awesome blog Living in the Motherhood.

I used to consider myself a pretty adventurous person. I’ve always loved to travel to strange and exotic places around the world and immerse myself in their culture—as far as my dollar will allow. I would love to engage in challenges testing my own limits. Before I got married, there were very few things I wouldn’t consider doing once as long as it remained in the bounds of my moral compass and I could afford to do it.


Then I grew up.


I got married, got a job, graduated from college, had a baby…and pretty soon I was pretty well settled in my new found comfort zone. You know—the one where you don’t take overnight trips to foreign countries just for the stamp in your passport or go repelling off a cliff just to impress some cute guy. It is the zone where you see 9 PM flashing on your clock radio and think “Bed time already…Woohoo!”


This summer I took a trip with my daughter up to Island Park Idaho where I spent the better part of my summers as a youth (proof that I’m old…I’m using the word youth). Most of the cousins I spent my time with as a kid were off being adults, so I had the privilege of getting to know some “youthier” cousins and my sister who are all in the 15-19 year range. For some reason this brought out a side of me that I thought had vanished.


Several of my cousins decided it would be fun to go bridge jumping. I do not like heights, falling, or becoming paralyzed so I decided against it. Unfortunately for me, as I stood there watching my cousins hurl themselves off the bridge into the water I began to get that "old" sinking feeling in the depths of my bowels.


I had to jump.


Yes it was hard, yes it took me about ten minutes of standing on the very edge picturing my dead body floating in the river while making others jump before me (including my daredevil 6 year old cousin), but I closed my eyes and jumped into what seemed an eternity until I hit the frigged water of the Snake river and came up feeling awesome. When I emerged from the water my grandpa said, "There is the mother of the year!"


Why didn't I want to take the chance in the first place? Why would I think that becoming an adult would exclude me from such ridiculousness? I was using adulthood as an excuse to prohibit myself rather than a jumping point (no pun intended) to reach my full potential.


This is why three days later I found myself standing on a rock in Yellowstone National Park absolutely naked.


Bridge jumping renewed my desired to go beyond my comfort zone and be spontaneous. My sister and cousins invited me to Mystic falls to go skinny dipping. I'll spare you the details but know that I absolutely did it and I have never felt better doing something illegal in my whole life. Sure, I was afraid I would get swept up in the currant and my naked body would go over the waterfall, sure I was afraid that someone would steal my clothes, or I would get partially eaten by a bear-- then be found naked, but I learned that you are never beyond challenging yourself, you are never beyond adventure.


Life is meant to be lived. For some people it means ignoring your diet to indulge in your favorite dessert, for others it is jumping out of a plane. I learned that you should never limit your choices based on the stereotype you have categorized yourself in. Sure I am an adult. I’m a mom…but I am also Melissa Turney, and she likes a little adventure now and again.

Expectations

It's hard to keep yourself from having expectations. We expect things to happen and, for the most part, we even expect things to happen in a certain way. We anticipate an upcoming event and we create expectations for how that event will turn out.

Most of the time, for me at least, those expectations are pretty general. Thoughts like, "Everything will go well and run smoothly" and "I'm going to have a good time." Usually the general, wide spread expectations are more of a reassurance or a mantra to get me through whatever event is occurring. The problem I have with expectations is when it comes to personal relationships. Relationships with family, friends, potential boyfriends, co-workers, etc.

See, I am an over thinker. I think through every situation and all the possible outcomes before I ever reach the situation (that is, whenever I have the opportunity to do so). I talk things out with other people to try to figure out if my expectations are realistic or not, but there are always those little hopes and fears that sneak in and can quickly turn realistic expectations around. I really hate that I do that. I always think that my life would be so much easier if I just stopped over thinking things, not if I stopped expecting things to go one way or another, but if I just stopped thinking about those expectations until they became so drastically different from the possible real life outcome.

I guess my point is that we should expect good things, but expect them to come in their normal, everyday packages. Expectations can be exciting and can be the thing you need to give you that boost to do something daring, but building up unrealistic expectations can leave you dissatisfied with the good things that are real.

Guest Post: Lexie

Lexie is from Lindsey's home town (well, county) so that automatically makes her awesome. She has other awesome traits though, so don't worry. Right now she is living in Utah and working on her Master's Degree in Family Therapy. She loves everything about China (could I say that in a weirder way? I think not). She lived in China while she taught ESL and served a mission for our church in Taiwan. She is also a talented artist... she even does caricatures!


It’s Friday night. The weekend is here and your plans are up in the air. Your best guy friend texts you, asking what’s going on tonight. As the evening settles in, you find yourself hanging out with friends watching a movie you really are not in the mood for, or at a dance party (and you really don’t like to dance).

Does this ever happen to you? Does it sound like your every weekend? I present this scenario from personal experience--in fact, from weekends of personal experience.

Until now.

I have a belated New Year’s resolution. It dawned on me this past week. I was sick with a cold, following a pack of friends down Center Street, looking for a place to eat. I wasn’t even hungry. All I really wanted was to be at home in my pjs, watching something sappy like Pride and Prejudice and pampering my cold. But, obviously, there was something significantly appealing about this sad alternative that found me cold and meandering up and down Center Street… Yes, a guy.

On this walk, I took note of the couples that also walked hand in hand along Center Street. Watching them enter and exit the quaint ethnic restaurants or hidden community theaters. And that feeling hit--you know the one. I really want a boyfriend. I want him to know how I love China and take me to this perfect Chinese place that he heard about on Center Street, one I’ve never been to. But I don't have that. Instead, here I am: Cold. Sick. “Hanging out” with a guy who is clueless.

I’m really putting myself out here for you, readers. At this point in the story, I probably sound sad and pathetic. But I do this because I know I am not the only girl who finds herself in this situation. I don’t know what inspired me, but my thoughts took a positive turn.

Yes, I want to date. But while thinking about this, my mind did a short mental review of my dateless existence. So the question became, am I going to have a pity party with myself, or am I going to do something about it?

The answer is... I will date. Every week. I will take myself on dates!

I haven’t gone crazy, I promise. The solution I came up with is exactly what I read on this blog all the time: Pamper yourself. Enjoy yourself. Be yourself. Take yourself (and possibly a friend, because going solo to a restaurant is a little daunting even with this newfound self-assertiveness) to that Chinese place you know you’ll love. Or to the movie or play you’ve been dying to see. Or maybe stay in and try out a new recipe, because cooking is fun. I guarantee these dates with yourself will be more satisfying and fulfilling than the alternative. And, I suspect that a girl who is comfortable with herself and has fun with herself will seem more comfortable and fun to others. This may even lead to real dates--but that is not the point. The point is to be happy with you. Right now. The way things are.

A heads up: I don’t imagine it will always be easy. Like I said, “hanging out,” especially with someone you really like, will be tempting. Just don’t ditch yourself to do something that is less satisfying and fulfilling. If he isn’t asking you out, then ask yourself out. You deserve better. ;)

Live right now; just be yourself/ It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.

When I meet someone new, or get in touch with someone I haven't talked to since childhood, I find myself trying to get a sense for what kind of person that person will like, then trying to fit myself into that mold. It isn't a conscious decision, just my natural subconscious approach to conversation; I do it with people I already know well, too, only it isn't so obvious because that's how I'm used to interacting with them. When I sit in front of the computer trying to write a comment on someone's Facebook wall, I delete and rewrite again and again, analyzing everything to pieces and trying to anticipate how the person will react to every word.

It takes more courage than I currently have, but I am trying to learn that I don't have to use a fake personality for every person in my life. I don't have to hide my real thoughts and feelings from people. I don't need to pretend to feel the same way they do about everything; I shouldn't try to make them see me only from a certain angle, or be afraid that if they see the other angles, they won't like me anymore. If people don't like me the way I really am, then there isn't much sense in associating with them. It's okay if every person I meet doesn't love me. They can take me or leave me, and I'll be okay; the important thing is to just be comfortable with myself.

Be Brave

Continuing some themes we seem to have going this week, I want to talk about being brave.

I don't think of myself as a particularly courageous person. I don't even like calling strangers on the phone. I'm terrified of spiders, I have dreams about going blind at least once a month, and I still run up the stairs really fast when it's dark in the basement. I get lightheaded in job interviews, I have panic attacks driving in the snow, and I covered my eyes during most of The Grudge.

So during the last year and a half there was a long series of events that led to me moving to Indiana. Most of those events involved my plans for my life falling through or not being what I thought they would be, and nothing worked until I decided I had to go away to grad school (rather than completing a program online while working at the BYU library, as was my original plan).

I wasn't completely sure I wanted to move across the country. I was terrified, and it was even worse when I got there and had to put my dad on a plane the next morning. I wanted nothing more than to get in my car and drive back home. My dad even told me that if I didn't like it by the time the tuition reimbursement deadline came up, I could drop my classes and come home. (Yeah. It was that bad.)

Thankfully, I stuck it out past the first few days. As it turns out, moving to Indiana was exactly what I needed. I'd been in the same place for a long time, and although it was fun and safe and familiar, I was really stuck. I wasn't really all that happy with where my life was, no matter how much I loved my roommates and loved being able to go home for birthday parties on the weekends; now I'm really happy.

And I guess that's the point of all of this. Sometimes you get stuck, and then you either have to be happy being stuck or you have to do something you're afraid to do - get a new job, move to a new place, start a new relationship, climb a mountain, run away to London, (I moved to Indiana only after I'd done that one twice), change your major, buy a puppy - scary stuff like that. And don't decide not to do it just because you never have or because it will be scary. I'm beginning to realize that some of my best decisions have been the ones I was most afraid to make.

I'm posting this video because this song is one of those that I like to listen to when I'm afraid to do something. The title is roughly, "No, I regret nothing." Even if you don't understand it (two years of college French and I still don't catch all of it), I think the feeling comes through just fine.

http://www.youtube.com/v/0YkLq6J_6cA&hl=en_US&fs=1&%22

Worries

I've been trying to write this post for over a month, but it never comes out right. I struggle with the tone and the phrasing because I don't want anyone to think I am whining (I promise I am not). I don't want anyone to think that I am not happy with my current situation or that I resent anything about it. But, in the end, I usually conclude that those worries are really just part of this post . . . an extension of all my other worries.

Let me explain. I have been watching my nephews (ages 21 months and four years) since February. My sister works part-time and I know that my watching the boys helped her feel better about that decision. I have also had several other jobs watching children of various ages. It's strange to just jump into a situation where you have to take charge of children who have no idea who you are. It takes me a lot longer to adjust and it takes a lot more patience on my end (not something I feel like I have a lot of in the first place). But with my nephews, it is different. I have lived with them (or very close by) since the oldest was one year old. My sister and I are so much alike that they don't really treat us very differently. She's obviously the mama and the one they prefer (as it should be), but it's nice that I can provide a similar feeling of security and comfort when my sister is away. I love the relationship I have with the boys and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.


Having said that, this year has been hard. I'm good with children and I know what I'm doing. People would see me rocking the baby to sleep in the halls of church and say things like, "You'll be such a good mom! You already know how to do it!" and "It will happen for you." I would smile and nod and pretend like I appreciated hearing those things. I didn't. I wanted to scream.

There was a point where I was watching my nephews and a little girl who was six months old. She would scream whenever it was time for a nap. She would scream whenever I wasn't holding her. She was cute, but she was a screamer. I would hold her and Bug (my youngest nephew) would get jealous and I would have to hold him too. Some days we would sit on the couch and all three of the kids would fight over space on my lap. Some days they would all nap at once and I loved all three of them. Some days I would just cry right along with the screaming. I never knew what to expect (except the screaming). To top it all off, I decided to start potty training. I just got so tired of the diapers. I don't know what I was thinking, really, but eventually it worked and I had fewer things to worry about.

Thinking back on that now, the thing I remember most is just feeling crazy and hoping and praying that things would be different with my own children. I have very realistic views on motherhood. If this year has taught me anything, it has definitely wiped away any remaining naivete in that regard. I know it will be tough and I know I will continue to doubt myself and my abilities. But I also know now that it will be different with my own children simply because they will be mine. I know there will be more of those "oh you're so cute and cuddly why did I ever have any worries ever" kind of moments...those are the moments I'm so grateful to share with my nephews.


I guess my point is that I worry too much. I will always worry too much. That is not something that will change when I become a mother. In fact, I will worry more...but that is okay. I know it will be different because I will be doing what I chose to do. I will be living my life on purpose instead of living to get by. I will have these memories of my nephews and they will share them with me and we will have a bond that will never break. I'll tell my children stories about their cousins and how Bug used to love to dance and sing and squeeze me tight around the neck and Monkey used to wake me up with a kiss on the nose and a proclamation that "the sun is up!" I will secretly pray that my children will share qualities with their cousins and that one day I'll look at my own little boy and be reminded of Bug's sweet smile or Monkey's silly faces and not one bit of the stress, worry or craziness will come to mind.

Be Handy

I spend a lot of time sitting in front of a computer - for work, for school, for recreation - it's all the same and it isn't all satisfying. I mean sure, I do good work on a computer, but when, after hours of sitting and typing all I have to show is a bunch of so-called "files" and "letters" on a screen - I mean, are those even real? :)

I was listening to this NPR podcast called To the Best of Our Knowledge, and there was a guy talking about the value of physical work and how it's becoming a lost art. Many of the "blue collar" professions are looked down on because we tend to value knowing things over knowing how to do things. The guy they were interviewing had written a book called Shop Class as Soul Craft. The guy had a doctorate in philosophy but he wanted to talk about why manual work is important - in general for the world at large and specifically for the people who do it. If you're curious, you can listen to it here. (I think it's the second segment of the show.)

About the time I moved away from home, I discovered that I really like putting things together or fixing things. I don't mean really complicated things like toasters. I mean easy things like clogged sinks (see photo) and smelly hair-filled vacuums. (Now that I think of it, many of the things I fix involve cleaning up after hair-shedding incidents.) I also like putting things together, like furniture from IKEA or floor lamps from Shopko. I like sewing on buttons and gluing things and hanging pictures (hammer time!) and anything else that involves doing something that ultimately results in something working better or looking better or coming together. (Strangely, cleaning never falls into this category, although I do like vacuuming. Dusting just seems like a losing battle against entropy, doesn't it?)

I like the feeling of self-reliance I get from fixing something or building something. I like knowing that I'm not afraid to stick my hand in the back of a toilet, and that usually I can solve the puzzle back there and get it to stop running. (Although sometimes this does involve a phone call to my dad, but being able to explain the problem and follow directions is also fulfilling.) It's satisfying to look at something, see what the problem is, remove the problem and move on with your life (usually with a clean floor and a quiet toilet).

One of my dad's very favorite quotes is from this ridiculous Canadian comedy show called Red Green. (It's on PBS and it's all about flannel shirts and duct tape. I offer an example below in case you're curious.) Anyway, the quote is "If the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy."

Now, let's be clear. I'm not advocating that you all go out and buy stacks of duct tape. That's not what this blog is about. But I think that sometimes feeling a little handy can create loveliness - around you and within you - just because you confronted hair in your drain and came out victorious. Build a shelf. Pick up a wrench. Use a hot glue gun. You'll like it.

Guest Post: Fake It Till You Make It

I first met Heidi when she was serving a full time mission for our church in Washington D.C. (specifically, Laurel, MD). After heading back home to Utah, she met a boy and married him... I can only assume he is as awesome as she is (look at that picture!). They are keeping busy shopping for their first home, playing Rock Band and obsessing over Harry Potter. Oh, and going to school full time and working full time. I have no idea when she found the time to write this post, but I sure am glad she did.


I've discovered that no one is really born lovely. People are born with wonderful gifts, talents and traits that help them develop towards becoming lovely, but we all have flaws and weaknesses. While I was growing up, my mom (who is so lovely) taught me to "fake it till you make it!" I can't recall the hundreds of times she said this phrase to me while I sat worrying before a performance, or grew nervous about a talk or a lesson I was giving, or whenever I was doing something that was obviously not a natural gift for me. Did your mom say it to you too? I find that I say it to myself all the time! Not just for performances or public speaking things anymore, but sometimes when I'm feeling down on myself. If I'm not so pleased with my appearance, I know attitude has a lot to do with how I feel and how others perceive me, so I say "fake it, girl! fake it till you make it." I love this phrase. It has helped define me. It is the thought that would go through my head before a jazz band gig in junior high or a drum solo in high school, a voice solo or a play or a lesson or anything. I fake confidence until I have it, and wonderfully enough, it happens. I think a lot of us do it, right? We fake confidence or being outgoing until we are.

Let me share an example. I served a mission for my church and when I got home, my whole life was naturally different. I no longer lived for the things I did before my mission and even the boy who was "waiting" for me was no longer what I expected from a best friend or lover. My whole world flipped in three months, and it was a low time for me. I didn't want a social life, I didn't fit in anywhere! I felt terribly rejected by this boy and by other friends. This old phrase of my mom's came back every day. I decided I had to fake being confident, fake being suave, fake a bit of loveliness, fake talents, fake everything until I had it all! In no time I was a social butterfly; I was surrounded by amazing friends, using new talents I had developed while faking them, and charming my then soon-to-be husband!

I definitely wasn't born with that confidence, and I still struggle with it all the time, but I do know how to overcome a challenge. I don't allow myself to use the excuse of not feeling up to it or feeling qualified for it or feeling good enough for whatever, because I know I can do anything! And there's no need to sit around and miss opportunities because I'm "learning." I'm learning and growing by faking it! And then, voila! I've made it.

Guest Post: Lori

Lori was one of my good friends in high school, and I saw her a lot because we were in marching band together, had most of the same classes, and even got our first jobs at the same movie theater. She is super smart and has an artistic flair in everything she does. Lori lives in Texas with her husband and two adorable dogs; she currently works for the American Heart Association but her passions include cooking, gardening, and writing. --Miri

For as long as I can remember in my adolescent life, I have had stage fright. However, one of my fondest memories of my childhood was a day that my parents took me to some kind of fair and I was volunteered to be the lead in an impromptu play. In my young and innocent mind, I remember being brilliant, but then my adult brain takes over and tells me that that couldn’t possibly be so. Why is it that as we get older, we start putting so much emphasis on what other people think? For me, it gets to a point where I am actually holding back so much I make myself miserable. My husband and I were at the Shops at Legacy one night when there was a cover band playing on the street. For the most part, except for a select few that I am insanely envious of (my husband being one of them), all the adults were sitting, standing with crossed arms, or completely ignoring the music. But the children were a different story, dancing and thrashing about, having a grand ol’ time. And as much as I wanted to, I could not bring myself to move to the music.

I probably gave myself IBS during my first year at college, because as a music major, I was required to play—alone—on a stage, very frequently. To this day I’m not sure how I had the nerve to do so, but these were some of the most frightening and gratifying times in my life. I remember the nights before trying to come up with reasons to get out of the performance (breaking my own finger being one of them!). I also remember breaking out in a cold sweat right before I went on, trembling like that last leaf holding onto the branch for dear life before the barren winter takes hold of it. But then adrenaline and muscle memory takes over and before I know it, I'm playing my last note... and then, the beautiful applause. I would immediately start scrutinizing my mistakes, but as I look back on those performances I think, who would have known (other than my fellow flautists) that I had played the end note at forte instead of piannisimo?

One of my recent goals is to “speak” at a spoken word event at the Dallas Museum of Art. I’ve fantasized about doing so, and have even gone so far as to pick out a piece of prose to present. But just thinking about it makes my stomach flip. On the other hand, what kind of life am I living without experiencing stomach flipping events? Am I just taking the safe road through life? Perhaps these are the experiences that really define me as a person... and I'm sure in 40 years if I never take the risk I will sincerely regret it.

Ugly Duckling

I have been taking care of my nephews this week while their parents work hard to feed all of us. They are 3 (almost 4) and 19 months. My youngest nephew really likes ducks, a growling quack was one of the first "words" he uttered. Last fall, I got a copy of the soundtrack from Hans Christian Andersen which has a copy of the Ugly Duckling on it:



We were listening to this song in the car (as we do pretty much every single day) and when it was over my older nephew said, "But I thought all the birds told him to go away." As I tried to explain the story to him, I realized it wasn't really an easy concept to explain. "Well, they did tell him to go away, but then he wasn't ugly anymore so everyone liked him." That just sounds wrong. Be pretty and everyone will love you? Awesome.

Obviously, I didn't explain it to him that way. I said something more along the lines of he wasn't a duck at all...he was a swan the whole time! It didn't really answer his question, but he was satisfied. The whole thing got me thinking about how much our immediate social circles can influence the way we feel about ourselves. Our families and friends and coworkers can have such a lasting (and sometimes devastating) effect on our self esteem and our well being. I have known people in the past that made me feel like less of a person, people who made me question my worth simply by living their own lives. Our backgrounds, personal beliefs, decisions and individual insecurities can easily plant that little seed of self doubt in the people around us. It works both ways.

I don't really think there is a way to protect yourself from this type of thing. I think it is human nature. The only thing you can change and work on is yourself. You can work to be more perceptive. Remind yourself that everyone is different and what works for them may not work for you and that is okay. It's better than okay...it's what makes us unique and beautiful and lovely. You can work to be more encouraging to the people around you. Try to pay attention to when they need a pick-me-up or just a smile. Sometimes it is hard to push aside your own worries (they can be so demanding), but it is definitely worth it.

Guest Post: Vampire Teeth

I have known Hayley since high school. We are members of the same church and saw each other at a lot of activities, although she would tell you I was a snob back then (not true) and I would tell you that she forgot my name when I went up to say hello to her before class in college (totally true). We both would tell you those things because they make us laugh at each other and ourselves. Hayley is now married to a great guy named Jerry and is the mother of a beautiful little girl (with another baby on the way!). She works hard to help provide for her little family and she does a great job. She is one of the strongest women I know. Enjoy!

In the last few weeks I’ve thought a lot about how much we view ourselves as imperfect. We, as women, are never satisfied with who we are--how we look, how we act, and how we are viewed by other people. According to statistics, 4 out of every 5 women in the US are unhappy about their appearance. That’s 80%!!! An estimated 7 to 10 million women have eating disorders--all of it because we grossly exaggerate our flaws. We all have things we dislike about ourselves. Me? Well, let’s start with a brief history.

I started to have bad acne in about the fourth grade. Add to that large glasses in the fifth grade, and an unusual amount of body hair around the seventh grade, and things tend not to mix well in socially horrific middle school. People called me “Hairy” instead of Hayley, and to this day I shave my arms and upper lip all due to the self-consciousness I’ve carried with me since then. I allowed other people to dictate how I felt (and feel) about myself. I’ve had a “ghetto booty” since around the eighth grade, and I absolutely abhor buying jeans because I have to get them to fit my butt first, not my waist. Even through my years of training for swim team and my black belt in TaeKwon-Do, I hated that I weighed more than most of my guy buddies simply because I was built to be muscular, and not thin.

Oh, and I have vampire teeth. :)

So there we have it. Flaws. I have them. You have them. And you know what? I’m learning to love them!

We live in an era of "if you don’t like it, fix it." As the mother of a two and a half year old, with another child on the way, I find myself wanting to set a better example. I love when my daughter is getting dressed and she says, “I so pretty!” And I hate that the older she gets, the more she’ll doubt that statement. I’m saddened when I hear a gorgeous woman in my ward tell me that one day she wants a lift and a tuck. Why does she need those things to be “more beautiful”? Wouldn’t she be more lovely if she learned to be confident with the way she is now?

In the post “Something for Everyone,” a magazine article is quoted on why men love women’s bodies. How many of them say that they love the confidence their women exude? It’s so much sexier than just getting implants! In order to provide a better example I find myself realizing I need to learn to love my own flaws. I need to be comfortable in my own skin--not my adapted skin. I find myself looking in the mirror in the mornings with this lovely flair up of acne during this pregnancy and I say, “Well, I’ve looked worse.” It might not be, “Wow that zit is sexy!”, but it’s a start. I find myself proud of my stretch marks and of the saggy boobs that I have EARNED as a mother. When I’m old, I hope and pray I have long gray hair that I will earn as a mark of the knowledge and wisdom I’ve gained in my years. I also hope and pray that my daughter will always know she is beautiful, even on her worst day, because she is my daughter and a good person.

And so, in honor of that, I want everyone to think of all their flaws and figure out which one is their favorite. What makes you uniquely you? What is your favorite flaw? While we shouldn’t necessarily focus on how we look physically, we should learn to love the way we physically are. Yes, we need to be healthy, and yes, sometimes that means we need to change ourselves in habit and thought, but we need to learn to love ourselves at our best and at our worst. My favorite flaw, you ask? It’s my vampire teeth.

Plan to be the Best

I'm currently reading a book (Exactly As I Am by Shaun Robinson) that I will review here when I'm finished, but wanted to share a quote from Laila Ali that stood out to me.

"With boxing you have to have a lot of confidence to go into the ring in the first place. I had to close my eyes and dream and feel what I could do. It made me feel good and like I accomplished something just getting in there and boxing. I always planned to be undefeated, planned to be the best, planned to be world champion. It was more a question of performing the way I intended to perform than winning."

I just love that attitude. Boxing is not a girl sport...rather, it isn't a world where a girl would easily and quickly find acceptance and encouragement. She never backed down, though, and she never doubted herself. She planned on being the best then focused on what she had to do to get there.

Imagine what you could do if you just planned on succeeding. I'm sure there would be failed attempts and road blocks, but I believe they would be easier to brush off because they would be part of the plan.

So plan on being happy and lovely and charming. Plan on being your best.

Saturday Lovelies

A friend of mine shared a link to this article, Pieces of You, by Walter Kirn on Elle.com and it seemed like an appropriate thing to share.

It is an interesting article, but my feeling after reading it is that he is just skirting around the word "confidence." Be confident in who you are and you will stand out. Embrace your quirks and use them to enhance your image...people will respond.

The article also made me think of a blog I follow, The Sartorialist.

When I see the photos of people on The Sartorialist my mind goes everywhere from, "I love that dress" to "I wish I could pull that look off." But for the most part, it inspires me to focus on buying and wearing clothes that I love. You know, those pieces you try on in the store and can't bear to live without? That life changing pair of jeans or that sweater that goes with absolutely everything else in your closet? It reminds me that my closet should be full of clothes that will always make me feel beautiful...and scarves. You can never go wrong with a scarf.

Guest Post: Judge and Jury

Today we welcome another guest blogger, Lindsey's oh so lovely sister, Lauren.
Lauren recently moved to West Virginia, where she is learning to be brave in the battle against all the new and interesting insects that invade her house. She has a husband who writes poetry and washes dishes (among other things), a sister who thinks the world of her, and two handsome little boys who love her more than Thomas the Tank Engine (and believe me, that is a lot).

A few weeks ago, in the midst of a conversation, my boss said to me, "you are really distracted." The comment came as I was having a hard time completing a sentence; the words seemed right there, but still somehow eluded me. The conversation was taking place in the middle of a whirlwind move, a teething toddler, a tonsillectomy for my 3 year old, buying our first home and still working at least 20 hours a week outside of my responsibilities to my family. I was overwhelmed with trying to hold it all together, put my best foot forward in a new environment and keep things as "normal" as possible for my children. There wasn't time to think, much less be thoughtful about anything.

Now that we've been in our house for over a month and things are slowly getting unpacked, there's time. Time to think about the last few months. Sometimes I spend that time wondering why in the world I packed something that could have easily been thrown away. Other times I think about snippets of conversations that hadn't registered when they happened, like the one with my boss. On a good day, I realize that I'm being too hard on myself. (Did you see that list up there?) On a bad day, I wonder why I couldn't do it all and do it well (read: perfect). Most women are like this--we spend too much time being our own judge and jury, convicting ourselves of crimes no one else can see. We should be taking that time to understand we are not perfect, we are learning. And we are better women for it.

I am a wife, mother, sister, daughter and friend. I speak five languages (English, German, Portuguese, "Little Man" and "Bug"). I try diligently to live the gospel of Jesus Christ. I work hard to teach my children to make good choices and to enjoy who they are. I try to keep a house that feels like a home, and sometimes that means it is a cluttered mess. I work hard to raise money for a local non-profit and to teach my children to be involved in their community. Sometimes all of these things leave me a bit distracted, but they are also helping me become the woman I want to be.

Guest Post: Build Your Own Confidence

Today's post is by a guest blogger, Meg's beautiful sister-in-law Julie. She is a great mom to her three beautiful children and an avid reader. She has also become great at bringing women together, as you will see in this guest post. Since the incident she describes here, she's also started a monthly nickel auction that was featured on KSL news, and she's a founding member of her neighborhood book club. Megan's favorite memory: "While Julie was dating my brother, she was bored because she wasn't living near very many of her friends. She took me to get a manicure with her (which made me feel special as an awkward 13-year-old), but the girl at the salon must have written it down wrong, because she took me back and put a cape on. I almost got a hair cut while Julie laughed in the front. When we finally sorted things out, I ended up with awesome blue nails and a new friend who later became my great, supportive sister."

Enjoy!

Shortly after my husband and I got married, we bought a home in a new city and had a baby boy. I had achieved my dreams in life: go to college, get married, have children and be at home to raise them in a strong family environment. These events did not come easily to me. I had to work hard and fight to obtain them. I should have been happy to finally achieve my goals, but no one tells you being a stay at home mom is actually lonely, that all the jokes and rumors are true. I also looked around and realized I was the new girl. The neighborhood women already had their social circles and clubs established. Why was I not quickly included? Couldn’t they see I felt excluded?
How could I find happiness? My sister told me about a playgroup she was involved in. Women sitting around talking while their children played? Why had I not thought of this? I wanted to be in a playgroup! I chewed on the idea for 4 months before I gained the courage to begin my very own. I made a list of six other girls I wanted to be friends with and gave them a very scared phone call.
I did not anticipate the overwhelming response. “What a great idea! I would love to participate. I was hoping someone would start a playgroup. I could use a social hour.”
You see, I didn’t know that the skinny tall beautiful girl who could have passed as Rosalie Hale (from Twilight - you know you love it too) would be just like me. She may not appear awkward or nervous, but she still feels the same emotions as I do. We are living in the same lonely cruel world of self doubt. All women are united through our own sabotaging thoughts. We all want to be loved and included.
Once I believed I was their equal, I became their equal.
This one act of courage started me on a path I like. I figured out how to survive and find joy. It is still a daily battle to believe in myself and to like who I am (we all have bad hair days). But I make choices that push me to grow and stretch my compassion for others. Get involved. Find your place in life. If there is not one waiting for you, create it. We all just want to be included.