Home again...

Well, we are back in Michigan.  I growled and hissed at the state sign as we left Ohio, but it didn't help me feel any better.  At least Chris and I get to spend some time in Frankenmuth this weekend celebrating our anniversary.  I am looking forward to good German food and time in the hot tub!  :)

I have to hurry to get ready, or I would write more.  Sunday when I get back, you will all receive a much more detailed report of our vacation.  Have a wonderful weekend!

Self Acceptance?

I cannot sleep.  I have not felt well since around 8PM last night, and woke up around 2:30.  I have been thinking quite a bit about self-acceptance.  I doubt that I am there yet; heck, I just ate a handful of cookies simply because they were there.  And they were awesome.

Of course, now I feel bad about it.

Every morning, I look in the mirror and think "God, why did You make me this way?"  I think I would honestly be more okay with myself but for the surgical scars that crisscross my abdomen.  I understand completely that the doctors who worked so valiantly to save my life were not in the least concerned by the awkward bulge that resulted from cutting into my oblique muscle.  How were they to know that the preemie they were trying to save would grow into a fat girl?

Every year, I diet.  I try not to go to any extremes, and I usually lose 30-50 pounds.  Eventually, it all comes back, and I think it's got something to do with the fact that I refuse to be okay with the way I am at this moment.  For some people, negative reinforcement works.  I AM NOT one of those people.  I don't appreciate being called fat or ugly; it will just make me sad, and I will eat.

I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father.  I am made in His image.  There is a divine nature within me that makes me beautiful.  When I work in the temple, my husband says that he can see me glow.  I am fully aware that I must take care of the body I have, and I don't make excuses for the fact that stress, depression, anxiety and uncertainty make me do stupid things like mack on homemade cookies at 5 in the morning.  But I am working on it.  All of it.  As I come to understand the Atonement, I more fully rely on my Savior and my Heavenly Father.

I'm finally realizing that I am safe.  I don't have to rely on food for comfort or escape anymore.  As I live worthily, it will get better.  I am surrounded by love and acceptance of the person I am AND the person I want to become.

Hurry, hurry, hurry!

It seems as though I've been doing a lot of hurrying these days.  Yesterday, I got most of the gifts wrapped, did 3 loads of laundry, decided what clothes I was giving to the church clothing barn, delivered dinner to a sick friend, came home, fixed my computer and went to bed around 11:30.  Today, I'm finishing up chart review, cleaning the office, writing instructions for the person who's filling in for me, going home, cleaning, doing more laundry, and baking cookies and a cake for the Christmas party on Saturday.  Friday, I think I can relax, but I'm probably just fooling myself for the moment.

I used to wonder why my parents got so stressed around the holidays.  Christmas seemed to take forever to get here.  Now I know.  I have just about two weeks to get everything straightened up, and so I'm rushing around like a madwoman.  There is a rational part of me that's saying "slow down!," but I'm not exactly inclined to listen. 

I understand full well that this season commemorates the birth of Christ.  As a believer, I try very hard to put commercialism on the back burner and turn a deaf ear to all the ads that scream at me about all the stuff I need to accomplish a memorable holiday.  I truly hope that no one is expecting that one spectacular gift to come from me, but I do feel that it is my obligation in this season most of all to be present and joyful.  It's my way of making restitution for those Christmases in years past when I was so miserably unhappy and worried everyone sick. 

It is this time of year that I can really, truly see the work that the Atonement of Christ has done in my life.  Where once there was sickness and sadness, there is health and joy.  The dark, cold days still bother me, but not nearly as much as they used to.  I am productive; my life has become meaningful and immensely happy.  I am so grateful this week to be able to provide service as a Relief Society member and as a friend, and am looking forward to making dinner for my husband and helping him make his favorite cookies this evening.  To be honest, hurrying around and keeping busy keeps my mind off the fact that there are STILL 17 days until Christmas.  :)   

Thoughts of a Boring, Chubby Girl

I am a little upset with myself.  I have gained 35 pounds in the last year.  Chris and I were discussing this last night, and we both have the same problems.

1.  We show love with food.  You're sad?  Let me bake you a cake and help you eat it!  Celebrating?  Let's break out the ice cream!

2.  We eat when we're depressed. 

3.  We eat when we're bored.

4.  We eat when we're stressed. 

It's getting old.  I am 29 and dealing with acne spots from too much chocolate.  I'm pretty sure my insulin resistance is linked to my inability to get pregnant.  I have no energy.  Most days, I get up, go to work, where I physically pine for my bathrobe and slippers, come home, get comfy, stay comfy, and go to bed. 

I never thought I would be a boring, chubby girl.  One or the other, fine.  Not both!  I'm not sure if the physical pain I'm dealing with is a nerve condition or just my joints SCREAMING at me to drop some hug-fluff. 

And another thing... I'm tired of wearing frumpy clothes.  In order for me to embrace my curves and feel awesome about what I'm wearing, I have to embark on a trek Lewis and Clark would have applauded.  Regular stores generally don't cater to short, plus-sized women unless you want to wear

A:  Chunky sweaters

B:  Mom jeans

C.  Cartoon character sweatshirts

I will be the first to tell you that I adore chunky sweaters.  My favorite jeans ever made are a pair of boot cut medium rise with quite a bit of spandex woven in.  (They always fit.  If there ever comes a day when they do not fit, I shall cry a river.)  However, I have a hard time with the cartoon characters and personally, they are on my DO NOT WEAR list. 

But what if I want to feel honest-to-goodness elegant?  What then?  What if I want to go out and shine just a little more than usual?  My options then are:

the church dresses and sets that are already in my closet, because in order to find something spectacular, I need the opinion of my mommy, my sister, or both, and it's a little too difficult to justify driving 6+ hours to buy a dress just because it will make me feel pretty. 

I wish I knew where to start, but honestly, I'm lost.  I obey the Word of Wisdom as much as I understand it.  Is there something I'm missing?  I'm so tired of feeling (and looking) like this.  

Morning has Come!

Yesterday seemed very long.  The plan was that we would get up early so that we could go to the temple as patrons.  We got up, got dressed... and I had a raging headache.  Recently, my husband purchased a new temple dress for me, so I decided to take it.  As I was putting it in my temple bag, I noticed that some very important things were missing.  Frantic, I started to look around the spare bedroom.  No dice.

On the way there, my headache was getting so bad that I thought I might be sick.  We decided to stop and grab something quick for breakfast. When we got to the temple, the matron helped me look through the lost and found.  Hours later, once I was home, I recognized that I was so frazzled, I may have overlooked my own things, not recognizing them as mine.  In the locker room, I cried out my frustration as Sister June hugged me and told me her own lost and found story.

For the next half hour, I went about the Lord's work, but my heart was heavy.  I'm sure the Adversary was pleased that I was hurting so much.

After we got home, I wrapped a few presents, then crawled into bed for a nap.  When I woke, it was almost 6, and poor Amber was doing a pee dance.  I took her out, then talked to Mama Jane on FB until Chris came home.  My good husband brought me ice cream and a cute movie ("Rio"), and then we went to bed.

Around 4 AM, we woke up.  The apartment had gotten too warm.  After I got us something to drink, we stayed up and talked for a while.  Before long, I was crying out my frustration, lamenting that no matter how hard I try, I can't get back to the relationship I had with my Heavenly Father when I was a child.  At some point, I realized that I was blaming Him for some things that have happened in my life, where I should have been blaming Satan.  I fell asleep for a few moments, and had a dream. I recognized my Lord Jesus Christ, Who told me that He and Heavenly Father wept as I was being hurt.

As a child, I always thought of myself as special.  I felt that Heavenly Father walked with me, guiding my steps.  Where I fell short was in not recognizing the agency of others to go against the plans of God.  I have blamed Him for not protecting me.  Now, I understand much better, and I thank Him for carrying me through those dark days.  I blame the Adversary for the addictions and sin that he spawned in the hearts of those who hurt me.

Thanks to the diving guidance of the Holy Spirit and the counsel of my husband, I have recognized the flaw in my understanding of the Atonement.  Complete healing is truly possible.  Morning has come!

Moroni on My Tree and Other Christmas Awesomeness

Last night was date night, the first one we have had in a long while.  I tried very hard to be sneaky and dropped Chris off at Target so that I could pick up his birthday gift.  I don't think that worked as well as I thought it would, but what's a girl to do?  He is my eternal companion; God hath joined us, and I think as a couple, we take that to a literal extreme.  It makes our lives a little difficult, but a lot of fun, especially around Christmas and birthdays.

After eating too much, we stopped to pick up some lights for the tree.  My awesome husband picked up a box of C-7's and said "I like these!"  For those of you who haven't a clue what I'm talking about, C-7's are your traditional, large-bulb Christmas lights.  They adorned every Christmas tree my mom ever put up until my freshman year in college.  That is to say, I think they were as old, if not older, than me. 

My sister was checking the lights.  What happened next has gone down in history as an Unfortunate Event of Illumination.  There was a spark, a flame, some singed paint on the wall, and a very loud expletive.  Thankfully, Shannon wasn't hurt, but since then, Mom's house has been decorated with tiny twinkle lights made after the year 2000. 

We faced a bit of a conundrum when it came to the angel.  The tree-topper angel I had hoped to use was, in fact, made more for a twelve foot tree.  When I put her on the top of our little five-footer, her skirts swallowed up nearly a third of the branches.  It looked awful.  I picked up the figure of Moroni, and before I could utter the words "Wouldn't we be Mormodorks if..." he was blowing his trumpet from the top of the tree.  It's awesome.

Yes, that's Maggie, our cat, underneath the tree.  She likes the warmth of the bulbs and the soft velvet blanket we're using as a tree skirt.  Silly kitty.

 

Oh, and... do you see the packages in this picture?  Those are gifts for me, from my husband.  He says that because they are in decorative boxes, they're wrapped already.  I disagree.  Who's right?  (Not that it matters, I pouted for about five minutes.  For once, it didn't work.)

How are your preparations going for the holiday?  I have a long ways to go.  Somehow or other, my house kind of exploded again after Thanksgiving.

I am ashamed.

Joseph and the Chocolate Bar

A few days ago, I was reading a blog post by my friend, a very prolific, funny, middle-aged Mormon man (see his blog here) and the question he posed struck a nerve.  I asked my husband what he thought of it, but it was late, we were both sick, and our brains were fuzzy. 

In his post, my friend noted that Joseph Smith had most likely never tasted chocolate, and then proceeded to tell what he would do if he could have a day with Brother Joseph, and what kind of chocolate he would offer him.  I have thought about similar things before, wondering in the days before my baptism how my hot chocolate habit would seem if seen through Joseph's eyes. 

My life is boring.  I am a bit more straight-laced than I would like, but not nearly as domestic as I want.  Around 9PM most nights, I start whining to my husband that I am sleepy.  I fear Joseph's day with me would consist of baking quickbreads and Christmas cookies, a temple session, a drive in the new car (with Joseph in the passenger seat!), and I would probably be kind and try to set up a ward meeting, or at least a meeting with Bishop Brooks.  Most of all, though, I think I would ask him for a blessing.  I was told once that as a member of the old Kirtland stake, I was specifically chosen by Joseph Smith to accept the restored gospel and join this Church.  In that moment, I felt ashamed that my testimony of Joseph was the very last thing to fall into place before my baptism, and indeed, it took a visit to Kirtland to do so.  As I sat in the school of the Prophets, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit, and I was made to know that Joseph Smith was (and is!) the Prophet of the Restoration.

Since then, he has become my hero, and my friend.  I have had dreams of walking and talking with he and Emma, and woken with a better understanding of the doctrine of the Church, and deeper patience with myself.  Most days, I'm not sure why he chose me, but sometimes, especially in the temple, I get a sense of my best self, and realize that she was whom he chose.

As for the chocolate, he would probably point me toward the Word of Wisdom and ask that I rein in my chocaholism a bit.  I think I would make him a hot fudge cake, or take him for a trip to Alliance to meet my best friend Jessy and go to Andrea's for Divine Delight (or, as it's better known, Sex on a Plate)...

If we were in a time crunch, I'd get him a bag of Dove Promises, the dark chocolate ones.  They're awesome.  :)