Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Why I Don't Blog
Friday, January 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I Need A Custom Calorie Counter
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Me Time
I live for "me time," that time of day when everyone is supposed to leave me alone and let me do something that I want to do. Me, selfish me. I don't always get this time, now that my kids are older and I'm juggling every one's schedules, but I still live for it.
About 3 years ago I had quiet time down pat. I had my kids perfectly trained, and for years had been getting a guaranteed 2-3 hours of quiet time every day. I would feed them lunch, clean them up, let them play while I cleaned the table and kitchen, and then off to bed I would send them to sleep or read to their heart's content. Then I would run to the TV, turn it on to my favorite program, which was whatever happened to be bearable to watch, and then I would run to the kitchen to make myself a yummy and rather large lunch. Grabbing my plate, a napkin, a tall glass of water, and usually the ketchup bottle, I would balance my way to the couch and there set up permanent residency until my precious 2-3 hours were over. Ahhhh, sweet Me Time, just letting my brain melt, stuffing my face, and not doing a darn thing.
You'd think with all this free time I would be happy, content, and energized everyday. But I wasn't. I still felt like there was never enough time to do things that I wanted to do. I still often felt trapped by motherhood. I still had a long list of things I would someday like to do but knew I never would. *sigh* If I couldn't get any of this done with my relatively long quiet time how was it that so many other mothers around me were accomplishing so much? Most mothers I talked to were envious of my long quiet/me time and wished they could get the same. But they were the ones going to the gym, playing musical instruments at concerts, starting in home businesses, and making lovely scrapbooks while my photos moldered in a box somewhere.
Then it hit me. It hit me smack dab in the gut. I had been calling quiet time "Me" time. But what was I using that time for? TV and food. Therefore I was defining "me," myself, with TV and food. Judge Judy, America's Test Kitchen, and old Matlock reruns with copious bowls of nachos and Yukon gold potato oven fries were what I was defining myself with. No wonder I never felt satisfied, no wonder I wasn't happy, no wonder that I constantly found myself lacking. But if I didn't want to define myself by TV and food, what would I define myself by? I was going to have to think about this for awhile.
I made a list of things I wanted to define me and these were at the top of my list: service, love, education, creative. Starting there I started using more and more of my "Me" time to redefine "me." I started writing letters to loved ones, making meals for people in need, reading classic literature, practicing my creative writing and art again. Suddenly I was feeling much more like me than "just a mom." It was wonderful. Emphasis on was. Sadly, in this past year I have fallen back into that pit of defining myself with TV and food. Why? Why would I do something that bears no fruit and makes me feel sluggish and fat? Because the devil on my shoulder likes to whisper in my ear, "You deserve it, you need some down time to just relax. You don't have time to do something creative. Cooking for someone else will just make a mess and they probably don't need it anyway. Besides, as soon as you start something the baby will wake up and ruin it. You deserve to just relax and do nothing for a second or two." But what the devil forgets to tell me is, "You will feel lazy and sluggish. You will be discontent and grumpy. You will gain weight, loose brain cells, and soon you will be mine!"
So, once again, I'm working on flicking that little devil off my shoulder. I'm trying to reclaim my right to choose what will define me. I'm trying to put the ME back in "me time." It's a lot more work, but I think I'm worth it. Don't you?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Haunting of Me
When walking by mirrors I look away. I look away because I know that she is there, waiting for me. The look in her eyes haunting me with their questions, always pleading, "Why? Why?" and the look of pity upon her face that makes my stomach churn.
Yesterday I was cleaning my closet and stumbled upon an old jewelry box. It was full of old broken jewelry, love notes, and photographs. Jewelry that I would never choose to wear, notes that didn't belong to me (a frumpy housewife), and snapshots of her. I quickly closed the box and pushed it away from me. The closet can be cleaned later. Why is she doing this to me? Why won't she just leave me alone? But I know why she won't leave me alone. I killed her. I squeezed the very breath from her being, stole her place and hid her. I broke her up into little pieces and hid her body in various dark places. Why? Why would I do that? I'm not a violent person. I don't think I even realized what I was doing at the time. When it was all over I told myself that I had to do it, it was the right thing to do, it was better for everyone that she was dead. But now, years later, she is back and she won't leave me alone. WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE? Her laughter rings through my head. A loud, happy laughter so unlike my own. She loved to laugh and to make others laugh at her. She was brazen, obnoxious, and always ready for a new adventure. I remember her crazy, wild hair and the interesting way she dressed. Never one to bend to the latest fad she was always coming up with new and unusual outfits. The best way to describe her is, "not like me." I'm the responsible, serious type, I know there are things more important than fashion or beauty. I don't have time for silly escapades when there is so much work to be done. If I don't do it, who will? Maybe that is why I killed her. I couldn't stand seeing the stark contrast so I destroyed her so that no one could compare us. But killing her didn't make her go away. People still remember her, talk about her. And now I seem to see her everywhere I go. The other day I was talking to my husband and I swear I heard her voice coming out of my mouth. It's as if she is trying to come back, as if even death won't stop her from living.
Today I felt her inside me. It was when I flipped my wet hair back while taking a shower. I flipped it back and smiled as I ran my hand through my hair, just like she used to do. I looked in the mirror and saw here there, staring back at me. But this time she wasn't pleading, she was smiling. She was getting stronger and she knew it, I knew it too. In a panic I ran around the house, reaching into closets, pulling from under beds, gathering all the hidden mementos of her life. Sitting in the living room, surrounded by her remnants, I studied her, remembered her, allowed myself to want to be her. The ghost that had been taunting me and tormenting was winning, and secretly I began wanting her to win.
Why shouldn't I want her to win? She is my ghost, mine, the person I was before I got married and had children. I thought she had to die to make room for the new me. But she wants to live again, and so do I. No, I'm not going to go and do anything crazy, but maybe today I will do my hair like I used to. Maybe I will spend more than 5 minutes assembling my outfit, and I just might fix some of that old jewelry and wear it again. Who knows? Maybe I will laugh a little louder or take my kids with me on some silly little adventure. After all, it is Halloween, the perfect time to let old ghosts live again.
This was written for entry in Scribbit's wonderful WriteAway contest.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Less
Friday, September 19, 2008
Party's Over
Monday, September 8, 2008
My Own Personal Hell
Amid all the rough beauty and sagebrush, though, something sinister was waiting for me. Passing a sign that read, "Devil's Orchard," and arriving at "Inferno cone," I should have known, should have stayed, safe and sound, in my car. I should have listened to that voice in my head that warned me to turn back before it was too late. Instead I walked myself right into my own personal hell. Those who know me personally are shocked right now that I can even type that word. I'm so adverse to cussing of any kind that I prefer to say hades, heck, or spell it with hockey sticks. But that is because I believe powerful words like this should only be used when absolutely appropriate. I think this is appropriate. What is hell? Well, let me just describe it for you:
There I was, surrounded by people, happy people, people walking around free to do as they wished while I sat chained to the ground. People walked past me, some even ran, hand in hand with friends and loved ones. My loved ones were only a short walk away but I couldn't reach them. I clutched my newborn baby to my chest and willed myself to break free, that I might move for the his sake, but I couldn't. The loneliness I felt, while surrounded by others, made my heart ache. The smiles of others seemed to mock me as I sat in abject fear. Only slightly less powerful than the fear was my shame. The shame ate me alive from the inside out and denied me the right to ask anyone for help. I could barely even cry, sunglasses hiding my tears, feeling that if I expressed too much emotion my body might move and any slight movement might cause my worst fears to come true. Fear controlled me, shame silenced me, loneliness hurt me, and I was in hell.
For some people hell can be addiction, guilt for a crime, abuse from a loved one or self abuse, or other various things. For me on that day hell was a phobia.
pho·bi·a
–noun
a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it.
I have a phobia of steep slopes. Thinking back, I've always had this fear. As a small child I used to wonder how people were able to walk up hills that I could only crawl up. There are still places here in Seattle that I can't drive in because the hills are so steep (though I have to say that I've come along way int he 6 years we've lived here). Well, this day we were climbing Inferno Cone. About 10 yards up I realized that it was going to be too steep for me to handle and told Mr. Hotness I should turn back. He knows about my fear but has rarely seen it in action and when I hold his hand I can usually see my way through it. So he encouraged me and said, "It isn't that steep, I know you can do it." I'm a big believer of mind over matter so I tried to believe his encouraging words and kept going. A little further up I just knew I had hit my limit. I could not go any further. But I didn't want to ruin it for everyone.
"This is as far as I can go. You guys go on ahead and I will wait for you at the car."
They kept going. I went to turn around, and that is when it hit me. I was in BIG trouble. Not only was this a steep slope, but I was wearing flip flops (an unsteady shoe), the ground was made up entirely of loose, shifting, cinder rocks/dust, and the wind was blowing fiercely. I was able to turn enough to face down hill, slowly lower myself to the ground, and then the paralyses set in. I had one hand on the ground and one on the baby (who, luckily, was safely wrapped and sleeping in the baby wrap), my two feet spread apart for balance, and that is the position I held for what seemed to me an eternity, though probably only 15 minutes. Agony. Sheer agony. Feeling like you are going to die a tortuous death at any moment while logically knowing you are just fine is not a pleasant feeling. At one point a man walking with his family turned to look at me. If I hadn't been wearing sunglasses I'm sure the pleading look in my eyes would have answered his silent question. He turned back several times. I almost called to him for help, but, by the time I had decided to, he had already moved on. When he got to the base he turned to look at me again, hesitated, and then got into his car. I wonder if he was being prompted to help me. Later two bikers drove up and I felt a flash of hope. Bikers may look rough and scary but they are the most understanding humans when it comes to other's handicaps. I knew I could ask them for help without having to worry about making them understand. Sadly, they weren't real bikers. Just two punk kids with big bikes, and only one of them came up the hill and he didn't even glance at me.
Eventually the kids and Mr. Hotness came back. Pablo and Cookie ran right past me. Monster Man came and sat next to me and hugged me for a minute. Oh, how I wanted to take his hand and walk down that hill with him. Finally Mr. Hotness, with Sweet Terror on his shoulders, came from behind me, held his hand out to me and lifted me off the ground. And, just like the light shining into this dark tunnel, peace found it's way to my heart as I trusted in my husband's strength and gravity to see me safely down.
How could something so silly, so simple, so easy for everyone else cause me such torment? This is what hell is: personalized torture that only the one suffering can understand. Compared to it, fire and brimstone look cozy. Mighty cozy, indeed.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
H-A-P-P-Y
I know it is Sunday and I should NOT be thinking about this.... but.
On the way to church today I saw 3 of these lovely signs. Yard Sale season is starting early this year and I am happy. =)
My awesome DSSH bought me a box of Samoa Girl Scout cookies and I'm not expected to share with anyone. I love treats just for me and so I am happy. =)
Two people in church made comments to me about how I'm such a skinny pregnant lady and that I looked great. Compare this to last week when I got several comments about how I was so big for only being so far along, and yes I am happy. =)
I went to the library and picked up some fun movies (two classic horrors, a classic, and a romantic comedy) that I get to selfishly watch tomorrow and I am happy. =)
This year I FINALLY remembered to buy my corned beef early so we can actually have our St. Patrick's day dinner. And I also FINALLY remembered to buy my Easter eggs two weeks early so that they will be good and ready to be hard boiled (if your hard boiled eggs never seem to peel without falling apart it is because your eggs are too fresh) and so I am happy. =)
I have bought books and am developing a way to get my artist son to read more and to get my daughter to read more than just fantasy (I will share it once I have it up and running) and so I am happy. =)
How do you spell happy?
Monday, March 10, 2008
Homeschooling and Socialization
If you are a homeschooler, what is the one question you get most often from people who are concerned about your choice to homeschool?

If you said, or thought, the word "socialization" then give yourself 10 points for being up to date on current issues. I have a lot of opinions, facts, statistics, arguments, pet peeves, and very funny stories about this subject, but today I want to try and address some real concerns about the ominous word, "socialization." I want to point out that while many homeschoolers prefer the kind of socialization they can provide their children through homeschooling the decision to homeschool is often made for other reasons. You can't just ask a homeschooler, "Yes, but what about socialization?" and expect a simple answer. For starters, what are you actually asking? "What about socialization?" can mean lots of things to different people, like:
Won't your kids be weird?
How are your children going to get street smart?
Don't you want your children to have friends?
Aren't you being over protective and sheltering them from real life?
Won't they miss out on all the fun activities that school has to offer?
Don't you think you have a responsibility to let your children be out in the world to help and to influence other children for good?
So, before you ask a homeschooler that all too common question, pause a minute and think about what it is you really want to know. It will make it so much easier for the person you are asking to give you the answer you need to hear.
Should you worry about socialization for your children if you choose to homeschool? It depends on how you plan to homeschool. If you plan to keep your children at home every day and all day long, and they have only you as a teacher for EVERYTHING, and there aren't any kids in your neighborhood, and you don't go to a church that has lots of children, and you never have visitors, then yes, you should worry a lot about your children not getting the socialization they need.
Some homeschoolers do homeschool this way. Most homeschoolers, however, have their kids in classes like sports, art, dance, foreign language, music, nature clubs, geography clubs, etc. where they have different adults teaching them and have to function in a large group of children on a consistent basis. Most homeschoolers have play dates. They take their kids to public parks where their children meet and play with public schooled kids (and where their children often have to deal with mean kids, bad words, and other public school recess situations). Many homeschoolers are religious and so they attend church where their children take active part in lessons and activities with other children.
What kind of socialization do you want your child to get? There are many different kinds of socialization available in this world and as parents we are often picking and choosing what kinds we will have our children learn. Some parents choose not to allow television or certain movies in the home, others choose to live in certain neighborhoods, or choose a particular religion to raise their children in, and still others choose to keep their children away from certain family members. These, and so many other choices we make for our children, are based on the kind of socialization we want our children to have. Is it any wonder then, that there are parents who choose to avoid the socialization they see being taught in their particular schools? I am lucky to live in an area where parents get to choose which public school to put their children in despite school boundaries and there are many parents who are willing to drive many miles in order to get their children to the school with the academic social structure they like best. Personally I think there is a lot to be said for having "street smarts" and I believe that public school is a great place to develop those skills, but it is most certainly not the only place. Public school is also a wonderful place to expose your children to different cultures and ethnic groups, but again, it is not the only place to get such exposure.
What can I do to ensure that my children get "socialization" if I choose to homeschool? Well, after deciding what kind of socialization you want your child to receive, you go out and get it. It is very important to me that my children be understanding and accepting of other ethnic groups, religions, and cultures. To do this I have had to copy the actions of Benjamin Franklin's parents. Franklin's father thought it was more important for his son to stay home and help run the family business than to go to school. But, to meet the demands of his wife and the needs of his son he made a conscious effort to have people into his home who could educate his son. If he met a seafaring man, a politician, a skilled craftsman or anyone who could teach his son more about the world he would invite them over for dinner so that his son could benefit from the stories of their life. Following suit we make an effort to invite in our homes people who can share experiences with us that we would not normally find in our particular social set up. We have had to go way out of our comfort zone to do this but I can promise you that my children are not the only ones who benefit from this. You can do things like this, and many other things, to ensure that your children get the socialization you feel is important for their growth.
Will my children seem, or be considered "weird" to other people if I homeschool them? If you stop grooming them and stop expecting them to use their manners then yes, they will probably seem weird to others. Seriously though, people might think your decision to homeschool is interesting, and a few will treat you as if you are weird but that is only if you tell everyone you meet that you are a homeschooler. You don't have to broadcast it to the world. I've even heard of homeschoolers who, when asked why their kids aren't in school, tell people that their kids go to a private school that runs on a different schedule (many homeschoolers even create names for their "private school"). On the whole, your family will only be as weird as you let them be. In the 8 years that I've been homeschooling I've only had 3 people guess that I am a homeschooler and that had to do with having a lot of kids with me during school hours and nothing else. Also in my 8 years I have only had 4 people treat me like a leper for being a homeschooler and they taught me not to "cast my pearls before swine" or not to broadcast our choice to everyone we meet. I also made sure to teach my children how to answer questions about their schooling in a way that prevents them from getting mean reactions (a skill I wish my mom had given me when I was homeschooled). For instance, I make sure they know what grade they are supposed to be in, I've taught them not to say that they don't go to school, to use the phrase "field trip" often, and to simply say, "I like it" to anyone who gives them grief.
Why is homeschooling good for socialization? Besides the fact that you get to customize it to your individual family you also have access to areas that you might not have time for or the ability to get if you didn't have the time freedoms of homeschooling (though I know many families who public school who go the extra mile to get these experiences for their children). These include but are not limited to:
-Allowing children to socialize and interact outside of age parameters. No one in homeschool is too embarrassed to be seen playing with a kid from a younger grade or talking with a teacher about an academic interest (and really, outside of school, when will your child ever be in such an age restricted set up again?).
-Spending adequate time immersing oneself in other cultures or languages to get a good understanding.
-Taking your children to work and volunteer at nursing homes, homeless shelters, and special education facilities so that children learn to love and serve all people as equals. Or, another beauty of homeschooling, simply taking your children with you while you serve people in your church or community.
-Giving your child a specialized education for a skill or ability that is not offered by the public schools.
-And, something that I think needs to be mentioned, you can also allow a child who is naturally "different" to learn and grow without having to focus so much energy on simply surviving in an intolerant environment.
Public school is fantastic because your children get a LOT of socialization without you having to do much but pack a lunch and kiss them goodbye. My daughter's very first friend in public school was a girl who had just come to America from Ethiopia and was struggling to learn English.
Homeschooling is harder because you have to work to get what you need, but it is so nice getting exactly what you want =)
Now I need my fellow homeschoolers to help me. I am very lucky to live in a big city where I have many many resources at my finger tips. So, I'm asking all you homeschoolers who live in the country or in less diverse cities to share with us your tips and tricks to getting your children the socialization you want them to have.
(Oh, and I have reposted my rant on homeschooling and the socialization question so if you really want to go there go here)
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Identity Crisis
Hi. I'm a homeschooling mother of four, soon to be five, but my oldest (9yrs old) has been in public school for over a year now and I just put my oldest son (7 years old) in public school last week. I guess that makes me a homlic schooler, or maybe a publomeschooler, or.... Well, I'm not sure so you can just call me crazy.Why do I/did I choose to homeschool? The easy answer is that I was homeschooled myself until 6th grade and wanted to give my children that same advantage. The hard answer is that there are many many reasons and there have been different reasons for each child. With Cookie I wanted to homeschool her because she is so smart and I wanted her to be able to progress as fast and as far as she wanted/could. With Pablo I just wanted the kid to have time to grow up and feel confident before I threw him to the hyenas. And I'm still homeschooling Monster Man in an attempt to keep him from becoming the next Bart Simpson.
Why have I chosen to put some of my kids into public school? Cookie needed to go in last year because for 1 1/2 years she had decided to stop learning from me. Yup, anything I said was poo and she preferred to fight with me every day rather than learn a simple math problem. She actually did not want to go to public school and begged me (literally and quite sadly) to let her stay home. Sorry, but homeschool is about learning and she just wasn't doing it. For poor little Pablo I chose to put him in because I have not been able to get myself to homeschool the way I should since last summer. I know some homeschoolers just let school fall to the side when they are pregnant or going through a life change and that is fine, but not for me (at least, not for this long). I wasn't even getting the bare minimum of schooling in with him. And this guy really wanted to learn. So, acknowledging my lack of ability I asked him if he would be ok going to "Cookie's school" and he said ok. I can still handle Kindergarten and Preschool stuff with the 2 youngest because that is the fun stuff and easy to do so I am still homeschooling them.
What do I think about the change? There are things that I highly dislike about the public school system (and we are in a fantastic public school) but then there are things I don't like about homeschooling. I still say that homeschooling is AWESOME and I hope to do it again with my older kids at some future point. I am glad I chose to homeschool and I know that a LOT of good has come from it. I love knowing that I am in control of my children's education. Even with them in public school it is a choice and not something I HAVE to do. I like having that control and that ability to ensure that my children get a good education no matter what the public system does. I am also glad that there is a public school system in place for me when I can't homeschool. I love all the education options we have today and am grateful for the people who fought to give us these options.
How am I doing with all the changes? I feel guilt. I've cried myself to sleep. I feel grateful. I've felt anger. I feel everything that any regular mom with children in public school feels at times, and the same as moms who homeschool. I've now had the experience of being offended by remarks made by homeschoolers (only one or two) as well as the ones I've had from public schoolers. It has been interesting, though not unexpected. I desperately hope I've never hurt someone elses feelings or seemed judgemental when I was a full blown homeschooler. If so, I humbly apologize!
How are the kids? Cookie is thriving in public school and has done wonderfully there (though I really have a hard time with the kind of books she has come to love. ie: she now reads only fantasy instead of the classics or other good books. Luckily whenever school is out on break and she can't get to the library she is stuck reading MY books and she does like them... if she HAS to.). Pablo is having a tough time but he is getting used to it and already has a best friend (I know he is just starting, and I know I need to be patient, but it bothers me when he comes home and I ask him what he did for math and writing and he says they didn't do any of that... AT ALL. Instead they made straw helicopters. That is great and all but he was doing stuff like that at home all the time, and I sent him to public school specifically to get math and writing. But I'm being patient. Can't you see my patient smile?). Monster Man and Sweet Terror really miss Pablo and get bored at times because he isn't here to invent a new game or to start a new adventure. And I am adjusting, again, and getting better at packing school lunches =).
Bottom line: Public School is NOT evil. Homeschooling is NOT weird. Public school is NOT perfect. Homeschooling is NOT perfect. And this is all because any form of schooling is only as good as the teacher administering it.
And that's all I have to say about that. =)
Monday, December 10, 2007
Of Motes And Beams
3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?
5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.
Just the other day, I was about to reach over and give a tug to someone's mote when I remembered this scripture. I gave a little chuckle and thought, "Oops, better look for my beam." When I found my beam I was shocked, SHOCKED. It is the kind of shock one feels when they realize that they have gone all day with their zipper down, baby puke down their back, spinach in their teeth, and their skirt stuck in their pantyhose. Why on earth didn't someone tell me my beam was so freakin' huge??? I had to laugh because it wasn't just a beam but an elaborate domino effect. My home is in shambles, and it happened all too quick. My counters are covered in crumbs... several days worth. I have piles of trash in the corners of my kitchen and dining room. My children are all grumpy, I'm never dressed, I am not feeding anyone, and nothing else is getting done either. How did this happen? I'm not sure where, when, or even how it started but I do know that it must stop. Lets start with the morning domino (even though I know it isn't the domino that started it all). I have completely stopped doing my awesome SMART Habit Saturdays so I am not jumping out of bed. The bed isn't getting made so the room isn't getting cleaned, so the laundry isn't getting in the hamper and the laundry room, so I'm out of pants and underwear, so I don't shower, so I feel down and decide to blog before starting my usual morning routines, so the kids aren't doing their chores, so the kitchen is still dirty when it is time to make lunch, so I don't make lunch, so the kids feed themselves and make a bigger mess, so I half heartedly ask them to do chores, but I'm so behind in my own chores that I don't have time to help them finish their chores, so we never finish and therefore never start our school work, so when Cookie comes home we are nowhere near ready to start our after-school chores, so by the time DSSH gets home the house is still trashed and I haven't even thought about dinner, so dinner is lame and very late, so i don't have time to read scriptures with the boys, so the kids go to bed late, so I go to bed late, so I wake up too tired to jump out of bed. There are also a gazillion other things that aren't getting done because of all of this. Quite the beam, wouldn't ya say? So this morning I jumped out of bed. the laundry is going like crazy, the dishes are washing, I know what we are having for dinner tonight, and I unplugged the TV (again) until the chores and school work are done. I know I am always blogging about my start-overs and new goals and new plans. I need all these start overs because I'm just not one of those people that is good at consistency. I guess you could say that I could build my big dream house out of all the beams I've collected through the years. The important part is that I keep trying again, right? So, here is to another beautiful day of laundry, routines, and blissful order in the home. And as for the person with the mote, I've learned that other people's motes never look as bad once my beam is removed so they can just keep 'em.Saturday, August 18, 2007
Just Three Servings A Day
Never, ever, mehver, whever, shmever will I DIEt again. At the pique of my self abuse I bought a great book called Body Clutter. It is written by Marla Cilley, who created FLY Lady, and Leanne Ely, who started Saving Dinner. These gals are great. They are honest, loving, firm, openly Christian, and leave you with no excuses. The biggest point the book made was that you can't go through life being mean to yourself. You shouldn't diet because you hate your body. You should eat right and exercise because you love your body and want to take care of it. Friday, June 8, 2007
S.M.A.R.T. Habits
It is funny to me how much one good habit can affect my behavior and apparent abilities. It reminds me of the overly used metaphor of ripples in the water, or jiggles in the jello. Last Saturday I jumped on the bandwagon and joined Lara Gallagher's S.M.A.R.T. Habit Saturday (Basically we make new years Resolutions every Saturday, instead of just once a year. Are we gluttons for punishment, or what?). My first goal was to jump out of bed when DSSH gets up for work, to hurry and make the bed, and then to move my body while he is in the shower. It has been interesting to say the least. I did it faithfully every morning and here are some of the side effects I experienced as a result:
Monday, April 16, 2007
From Me To You

So, to all you wonderful women, and men (I just don't think there are any men out there reading this thing right now) who are trying so hard to be perfect, or who are being too hard on themselves for not being perfect....
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The Tongue of Angels: Conference talk by Jeffery R. Holland
I LOVE LOVE LOVE this quote (and the rest of the talk too). This was the talk that I needed so badly when conference came. I have been a big baby this winter, I have been lazy, I have been mean to myself about my weight and my eating habits. I haven't found joy in the blessings of motherhood, or even tried to for that matter. I am rereading this quote to help me remember that I should feel joy as I clean my home tomorrow, because I have a home to clean.
I hope you are all enjoying your Sabbath day today. Have a great coming week!
Liz

