August 8, 2012
Friday, November 2, 2012
A thankful heart: day 3
Today I am thankful for oversized shirts and for my husband's too-big-for-me shirts; I think I may live in them for the duration of this pregnancy. I have come to the realization that I am one of those pregnant women who is just going to get huge early on and be huge until the end. I am only eight and a half weeks and my clothes are no longer fitting me. I thought I'd gained about 15 pounds and I was terrified to get on the scale at the doctor's office because it's too early for that kind of weight gain. I knew it was Mama weight, not baby weight. So, I was VERY surprised when the scale revealed I'd only gained 3 pounds since the last time I weighed in August. That means that all of this extra-ness is nothing but bloat! And it's awful and quite honestly, it's uncomfortable. I feel full and like I'm starving at the same time. My stomach growls but my muffin top screams, "NO!!" I think I will don some baggy sweatpants to go with my oversized shirts and go eat a bag of Reese's cups now. ;)
A thankful heart: day 2
Today, I am thankful for you! That's right, you! The person who is reading this. Whether we know each other or not, you're taking the time to read my silly little blog and for that I say, "Thank you!"
Thank you to my friends who've offered words of encouragement and those who've expressed enjoyment from reading my blog; it totally makes my day when someone tells me how much they enjoy reading it. The last few weeks have been a little hectic and I haven't blogged as much, but I'm still here. Plus, this whole pregnancy thing has me beat and I'm so tired that I can barely stay awake long enough to accomplish anything. I'm told this phase will pass :)
Thank you again for taking a moment out of tour day to read my blog, I appreciate you for it!
Thank you to my friends who've offered words of encouragement and those who've expressed enjoyment from reading my blog; it totally makes my day when someone tells me how much they enjoy reading it. The last few weeks have been a little hectic and I haven't blogged as much, but I'm still here. Plus, this whole pregnancy thing has me beat and I'm so tired that I can barely stay awake long enough to accomplish anything. I'm told this phase will pass :)
Thank you again for taking a moment out of tour day to read my blog, I appreciate you for it!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
A thankful heart: day 1
Today I am thankful for two good ultrasounds! God has blessed us with a growing little bean and, so far, he/she is developing as he/she should. I think I was more nervous for the second ultrasound, I'm not sure why. I told D that I felt like my heart was beating in my throat and my stomach. Mom asked me after the first ultrasound if we could see the heart beating and yes, we could. It reminded me of how a cartoon character's heart almost beats out of their chest when they are lovestruck. The second time it just looked more like a fluttering motion. We will be having weekly ultrasounds for the next few weeks because the doctor wants to monitor me closely due to my history and I'm thankful for a great doctor!
Also today, as a pregnant woman, I am thankful for milk of magnesia. Enough said. lol
Also today, as a pregnant woman, I am thankful for milk of magnesia. Enough said. lol
Monday, October 29, 2012
Birthday week
Last Tuesday was Jakob's 17th birthday, so we took him to Joseppi's for dinner with Mom, Bill, Uncle Buck and Aunt Lisa. I ate too much, as usual. When we got in the car after dinner I asked D if there was anywhere else that we needed to go before heading home and he said no because he'd just want to spend money. From the back seat, "I want to go spend some money!" Jakob was ready to unload some dough on a Macbook. So, we ventured to Best Buy and hooked the boy up.
On Friday night we went to the football game and froze our butts off. I wore a turtleneck, t-shirt, down coat, earmuffs, gloves, fleece lined boots and a huge doubled up blanket and I still froze. The fan turnout wasn't as good as I've seen it, but I assume the weather had a little bit to do with that. To add insult to injury, we lost. Since this was the "pink out" game, Jakob and one of the teachers had a booth selling breast cancer ribbons and painting pink mustaches on people. D bought a pink ribbon for my cheek and after an hour in the freezing cold it felt super stiff, like I'd drooled on my cheek and it had dried. I stuck it to my bathroom mirror when I got home.
After the game we picked up the birthday cakes for Jakob and Jimmy.
On Saturday we took a group of boys to play paintball in Sapulpa.
If you've never been to Paintball Adventure Games, I highly recommend that you go. Shawna and I just took pictures and laughed at the boys. We got to wear these lovely yellow masks.
I think one of the things I enjoyed the most about the day was just listening to a group of teenage boys talk and yell at each other as they "attacked". They all had a blast and can't wait to go back. Jakob managed to come home without any welps or injuries, but several of the boys and D all had "wounds".
On Friday night we went to the football game and froze our butts off. I wore a turtleneck, t-shirt, down coat, earmuffs, gloves, fleece lined boots and a huge doubled up blanket and I still froze. The fan turnout wasn't as good as I've seen it, but I assume the weather had a little bit to do with that. To add insult to injury, we lost. Since this was the "pink out" game, Jakob and one of the teachers had a booth selling breast cancer ribbons and painting pink mustaches on people. D bought a pink ribbon for my cheek and after an hour in the freezing cold it felt super stiff, like I'd drooled on my cheek and it had dried. I stuck it to my bathroom mirror when I got home.
After the game we picked up the birthday cakes for Jakob and Jimmy.
Our motley crew: Keston, Jakob, Devion, D, Brady, Chuck, Dustin, Dale, Jake and Jimmy.
If you've never been to Paintball Adventure Games, I highly recommend that you go. Shawna and I just took pictures and laughed at the boys. We got to wear these lovely yellow masks.
Don't worry, I kissed all of his boo-boos and made it all better. :)
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Mirror, mirror on the wall
I don't know if you watch the Today Show or not, but this morning they interviewed a young woman named Stella Boonshoft, an 18 year old New Yorker who writes a blog called The Body Love Blog. Recently, she posted a photo of herself in her underwear on her blog in an effort to further the body acceptance movement. I have to say, this is a subject close to my heart.
I have struggled with my body image since I was a preteen and some people have even said I was obsessed with it. I don't think "obsessed" is the right term, but it's definitely been something that has played a major role in my life. I remember being in the fifth grade and a group of girls were weighing and when I stepped on the scale, I weighed 20 pounds more than ALL of them. I was mortified, humiliated, embarassed and I hated myself for ever getting on that scale. I don't remember ever feeling gross, fat or disgusting before that day. One of the older girls made some remark about my weight; I don't remember what she said, only that it stung. The fact that I was quite a bit taller than most girls my age did not translate for me. Nor did the fact that I already had large breasts while many of them were still in training bras. All I knew was that I was much heavier than them and, to me, that meant that I was fat and that made me feel horrible and disgusting. Her comment just confirmed what I was already feeling. I've looked back at photos of myself at that age and I was by no means fat. I wasn't a beanpole, but I wasn't overweight. I was tall and strong; I worked horses, cleaned stalls, loaded sacks of feed, hauled hay and played sports on a daily basis. But, I still had a negative self-image.
Several boys would call me "red-headed woodpecker" which didn't just hurt, it infuriated me. And since I was a little more "well developed" than some girls my age, I also had to constantly deal with boys trying to touch my body - in the sixth grade! Warning, soapbox sermon coming - no girl should EVER have to deal with that! Parents need to teach their sons that this is unacceptable and is actually illegal. People chalk this kind of behavior up to "curious children" and think that it's harmless, but the truth is that it is an assault on another person. You are not allowed to grope someone just because you feel the urge to. The boys laughed about it and the more I told them to stop, the more they tried. So, once again, parents, teach your children to respect the bodies and personal space of others and to keep their hands to themselves. Thank you.
As I got older, my struggle continued. My friends wore a size 6, I was an 8. They had petite little feet and I wore a size 10. They had tiny hands and mine were huge like a sasquatch. My hair was red and fuzzy and chaotic and theirs was a pretty blonde or brunette and wavy and beautiful. My skin was beyond pale white and they all had a nice tan color. I don't tan. Ever. Under any circumstances. I had cellulite, they didn't. And if they did, tan fat was prettier than pasty white fat. These are just a few of the things that went through my head; I was constantly finding fault with my appearance and my body. And while I could find numerous faults with myself, I never saw those faults in my friends. I didn't even see faults in the girls who were mean to me. In some sick way, I wanted my body to look like theirs. Some older girls would make negative, bullying comments to me - these girls were not my friends, but because we are a small community and a small school, I had classes with them. Several of them told me that I had a fat a** and it slowed me down when we ran or made fun of my thighs or my hair or my pale skin color or even my clothes. When we would change into our gym clothes they would make fun of the underwear I had on, which weren't any different than the other girls. They would say something rude to me during class or even as I walked past them in the hall. And once one of the girls would say something, there would be one or two boys that would chime in, too. Their comments about my body made me feel worthless, which was something I was already feeling, they didn't need to point it out. But, these same kids would turn around and ask me for answers to tests and quizzes. So, they knew that I was smart, but still felt the need to insult my physical appearance. Once, when my hair was short, a boy remarked that my neck looked like an ostrich. Honestly, he was right, but his words still hurt. I have a long, slender neck and I agree with him that when I have short hair, it makes my neck look abnormally long. But, could he have found a nicer way to say it? Or did it need to be said at all? Or was he trying to be funny and I was just too sensitive? I don't even like my ankles because someone once called them "cankles". I'd never felt self-conscious about my ankles until then. Just think how much better people would feel about themselves if we'd all stop looking for faults and focus on each other's strengths. And how much happier would we be if we were looking for the good in others instead of finding ways to bring them down?
This morning, as I looked at Stella's photo and listened to her story I thought, what a wonderful thing that this young woman is doing! How brave she is to bare herself in such a way that makes her vulnerable and strong at the same time. I hope that many women - young, old or in between - hear the message she is sending about body acceptance (Parental alert: she does drop a few f-bombs on her blog). Body acceptance is an issue that I still struggle with and I pray that it's not something I pass on to the young women and girls around me. I have to remind myself every day that my self-worth is not based on my body size or what I think of it. I am loving. I am a Christian. I am smart. I am strong. I am giving. I am understanding. I am empathetic. I am kind. I am a wife. I am a friend. I am a sister. I am a daughter. I am a (soon-to-be) mother. I make sacrifices and provide for my family. I don't always make the right decision, but I try. I believe in righting wrongs and standing up for the little guy. There are many things that define me besides the number on the scale or on the tag of my pants. It's just hard to always remember that.
I have struggled with my body image since I was a preteen and some people have even said I was obsessed with it. I don't think "obsessed" is the right term, but it's definitely been something that has played a major role in my life. I remember being in the fifth grade and a group of girls were weighing and when I stepped on the scale, I weighed 20 pounds more than ALL of them. I was mortified, humiliated, embarassed and I hated myself for ever getting on that scale. I don't remember ever feeling gross, fat or disgusting before that day. One of the older girls made some remark about my weight; I don't remember what she said, only that it stung. The fact that I was quite a bit taller than most girls my age did not translate for me. Nor did the fact that I already had large breasts while many of them were still in training bras. All I knew was that I was much heavier than them and, to me, that meant that I was fat and that made me feel horrible and disgusting. Her comment just confirmed what I was already feeling. I've looked back at photos of myself at that age and I was by no means fat. I wasn't a beanpole, but I wasn't overweight. I was tall and strong; I worked horses, cleaned stalls, loaded sacks of feed, hauled hay and played sports on a daily basis. But, I still had a negative self-image.
Several boys would call me "red-headed woodpecker" which didn't just hurt, it infuriated me. And since I was a little more "well developed" than some girls my age, I also had to constantly deal with boys trying to touch my body - in the sixth grade! Warning, soapbox sermon coming - no girl should EVER have to deal with that! Parents need to teach their sons that this is unacceptable and is actually illegal. People chalk this kind of behavior up to "curious children" and think that it's harmless, but the truth is that it is an assault on another person. You are not allowed to grope someone just because you feel the urge to. The boys laughed about it and the more I told them to stop, the more they tried. So, once again, parents, teach your children to respect the bodies and personal space of others and to keep their hands to themselves. Thank you.
As I got older, my struggle continued. My friends wore a size 6, I was an 8. They had petite little feet and I wore a size 10. They had tiny hands and mine were huge like a sasquatch. My hair was red and fuzzy and chaotic and theirs was a pretty blonde or brunette and wavy and beautiful. My skin was beyond pale white and they all had a nice tan color. I don't tan. Ever. Under any circumstances. I had cellulite, they didn't. And if they did, tan fat was prettier than pasty white fat. These are just a few of the things that went through my head; I was constantly finding fault with my appearance and my body. And while I could find numerous faults with myself, I never saw those faults in my friends. I didn't even see faults in the girls who were mean to me. In some sick way, I wanted my body to look like theirs. Some older girls would make negative, bullying comments to me - these girls were not my friends, but because we are a small community and a small school, I had classes with them. Several of them told me that I had a fat a** and it slowed me down when we ran or made fun of my thighs or my hair or my pale skin color or even my clothes. When we would change into our gym clothes they would make fun of the underwear I had on, which weren't any different than the other girls. They would say something rude to me during class or even as I walked past them in the hall. And once one of the girls would say something, there would be one or two boys that would chime in, too. Their comments about my body made me feel worthless, which was something I was already feeling, they didn't need to point it out. But, these same kids would turn around and ask me for answers to tests and quizzes. So, they knew that I was smart, but still felt the need to insult my physical appearance. Once, when my hair was short, a boy remarked that my neck looked like an ostrich. Honestly, he was right, but his words still hurt. I have a long, slender neck and I agree with him that when I have short hair, it makes my neck look abnormally long. But, could he have found a nicer way to say it? Or did it need to be said at all? Or was he trying to be funny and I was just too sensitive? I don't even like my ankles because someone once called them "cankles". I'd never felt self-conscious about my ankles until then. Just think how much better people would feel about themselves if we'd all stop looking for faults and focus on each other's strengths. And how much happier would we be if we were looking for the good in others instead of finding ways to bring them down?
This morning, as I looked at Stella's photo and listened to her story I thought, what a wonderful thing that this young woman is doing! How brave she is to bare herself in such a way that makes her vulnerable and strong at the same time. I hope that many women - young, old or in between - hear the message she is sending about body acceptance (Parental alert: she does drop a few f-bombs on her blog). Body acceptance is an issue that I still struggle with and I pray that it's not something I pass on to the young women and girls around me. I have to remind myself every day that my self-worth is not based on my body size or what I think of it. I am loving. I am a Christian. I am smart. I am strong. I am giving. I am understanding. I am empathetic. I am kind. I am a wife. I am a friend. I am a sister. I am a daughter. I am a (soon-to-be) mother. I make sacrifices and provide for my family. I don't always make the right decision, but I try. I believe in righting wrongs and standing up for the little guy. There are many things that define me besides the number on the scale or on the tag of my pants. It's just hard to always remember that.
Monday, October 22, 2012
The new tree stand
My dude got a new tree stand. The booger of the deal is that it did not come assembled. The last hunting accessory he bought, a feeder, was also not assembled. The box said "Easy Assembly", which was a complete and total lie. So, when we pulled all of the pieces for the tree stand out of the box, I was not hopeful that this would be a quick job.
Here's our system: I read the directions and get parts ready, he assembles.
The first few steps went fairly easily.
Heave, ho!
Start tightening the nuts!
Padding is necessary for tender behinds.
Got the ladder attached!
And this, my friends, is where the job got tricky. The instructions call for three people to upright and move the whole kit-n-caboodle. There were two of us and one of us was not in any condition to be lifting or moving anything heavy. Normally, I would charge full steam ahead and show off my she-muscles, but due to recent events, I'm doing none of the sort. Read instructions. Get parts ready. These are my jobs. Not uprighting tree stands. So, for the most part he uprighted the contraption himself, then walked it over to the tree. I cannot remember a time that made me so nervous. I was afraid that it would either fall apart or that he'd lose his leverage on it and the whole thing would fall down on top of him. He finally got it over to the tree and then we had to figure out how to secure it because the tree was not especially cooperative. Don't you hate trees with an attitude? At first, one of us was going to climb the tree and get behind the stand to secure it, but neither of us could get up high enough to get our foot into a notch. It was a tall tree. He got it wedged up against the tree and I held it steady and he climbed up the ladder while I yelled at him what a bad idea it was and that I didn't want to be a widow today. My concerns fell on deaf ears, or prideful male ears, I'm not sure which. He shimmied up the ladder and got the stand secured while I had a heart attack.
There's the daredevil.
In his camo, he'll be well concealed.
Time to disguise the ladder.
And don't forget to cut off the tag!
On a side note, while heading to the hunting hole, we drove past a snake working on his tan. I screamed like a girl and hammered down on the gas. D tried to get off and play with it. Men. *smh*
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Ode to my dude
Oh, leaf covered man
Thou stealest my heart
I love thee so much
Even when you fart
You're the kind of man
From fairytale lore
Of thee, this is true
I could not love you more
You make my lips smile
And my heart gets a flutter
My fingers get tingly
You melt me like butter
I've loved you so long
We've been through so much
All it takes to calm me
Is your gentle touch
I call you my dude
My man or just "Hey!"
I'll take a moment now
Because I just want to say
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
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