Sunday, October 7, 2012

Step by Step

At this moment in time I should be surrounded by the people I love, gorging myself on some delicious homemade Turkey delights- but instead I sit in a silent house, with a sleeping baby on my lap. I sent Dave to his parents with Roly, and I just couldn't join them. I'm not really sure what's going on- I just feel awful, and can't bring myself to be around other human beings (except this sweet little angel) at the moment. I can't pin point the source of my rage, and although I'm embarrassed to admit that I've skipped out on Thanksgiving dinner to blog, the truth is that I just need to do some soul searching, and being near pumpkin pie while I feel like this is NOT a good idea. 
Pumkin Pie seems like a good place to start; I've been off treats for an entire month! It's been great. A lot easier than I thought it would be. I also went on Weight Watchers, and so I've been a lot more aware of what is going in my mouth. Food tastes so good to me now- fruit is so sweet, and my meals are so flavorful. I feel great after I eat. No guilty-gas pains. Dave and I have been running Monday, Wednesday, Friday, I've been going to Zumba on Tuesdays, and trying to do something different (ie: climb Mt. Doug) on Thursdays. In the last month I've lost about 15 pounds (18 if we are talking the dry hair-postworkout-prebreakfast-postpoo-butt naked-weigh in)
Although I've stayed strong with avoiding the treats- this week has not been a good one. I missed 2 of my runs, didn't track anything I ate on 4 / 7 days, and just felt crappy over all. I started feeling sick last weekend, and while my throat feels better now I just can't get passed this exhaustion. This means that I've been impatient with Roland, short with Dave, and hating myself because of those things. For the first time in my parenthood I feel like I'm in over my head in more than one situation per day. Roland is really giving me a run for my money these days, and I am constantly at the end of my rope when it comes to patience. 
I listened to and loved every session of General Conference this weekend. I felt uplifted and empowered as it ended. My desires to be a better parent a more faithful servant of God, and to feel more connected to my Saviour were all renewed. As Dave walked out the door tonight, I sat crying and wondering why I felt like this- when I had felt the spirit so strong over the past few days, and when today, of all days, I should be GRATEFUL for all I have. I opened my scriptures and started reading in Alma, as Alma is telling his son, Helaman, about his own experiences as a young man. As I read the word "bitterness" in 36:18 I realized that I felt that way. I felt this bitter taste in my mouth, towards the people around me and towards my current situation. I wondered why I'm struggling. Why Roland frustrates me so badly right now, why it was so hard to stay active this week, why I need Dave's constant verbal affirmations to feel good about my own physical progress (and feel like trash when I don't get it). This verse describes Alma finding solace in the Saviour. The next verse explains that as he did this, Alma could "remember (his) pains no more." As I read that the words came into my mind "ONE STEP AT A TIME." And I realized that's it. I'm frustrated with these issues because I know I want to get through them. I want to be a patient mother (to a well behaved toddler), I want to be in shape, I want to be skinny, I want to be attractive... But here's the thing! I can't just be those things - I have to become those things- one step at a time. 
And so, with this in mind, here are some steps I will take this week in order to become who I want to be:
1. Wake up and RUN
  • No excuses this week- just run baby!
2. Read scriptures over breakfast every morning. 
  • This is hitting a few birds with one stone.
  •  When I sit down to eat breakfast it means I'm making breakfast first, which means Roly isn't eating cereal (which can't sustain anyone for any period of time).
  • It also means he's not sitting watching Diego. Roland loves cartoons, and prying the iPad out of his hands creates rage from this sweet child like I never see otherwise. He's a lot happier without flashing screens... He just doesn't know it. 
  • Reading in the morning invites the spirit into my heart and our home for the rest of the day.
3. Keep track of eating4. Get a better/ more consistent bed time routine for Roly. 
  • We just put him in a big boy bed! We are all a little frazzled and sleep deprived since the change. 
5. Take time for Roly
  • Read books together before and after nap & whenever he wants. 
  • Paint together
  • Invite him to help me cook
  • Take a deep breath and ask "why is he doing this" when he does something that makes me mad. 
Ok, I apologize for this post... It's a bit of an over share, and probably would have been better as a journal entry, but sometimes you do what you gotta do. 

Friday, September 7, 2012

2 down.

Another successful day. Day 2 out of 364 is complete. Horrah! 

Dave is more confused than ever about what I'm trying to accomplish, and although his only intent is to be supportive of me in this endeavor, he has  been asking me constant hypothetical questions about what I will or will not consume in the next year. To clear things up I made a list... on the back of a birthday card...and signed it... to make it seem more official.

I've been away for almost a month- spent a couple weeks in Edmonton, a week near Cranbrook, then a few days in Castlegar. It was a fun filled month, but by the time the drive home rolled around I was so done with being away from home. Being with my parents for the month was lovely- my only complaint is that my father will indulge my every whim, and because of that I ate a ridiculous amount of icecream. I was feeling ready for a big change, and as Dave and I drove we talked about my goal and how I would accomplish it. Once we started getting specific I needed to write things down. The only paper I could find was the birthday card my mom had just handed me, and so, as we drove, I used a purple pen to fill in 3 columns. These should clear things up to those interested in the specifics of the year.

< than
*dairy *meat *carbs
This has less to do with the "challenge" and more to do with a goal of healthy eating.

*Pop *chips *candy *pastries *cookies *pie *doughnuts *icecream *fries *cake *cheesecake *chocolate *deep fried fast food (burgers, fried chicken, breaded fish, etc) *slurpees
This list may seem a bit redundant, but there are general foods that I'm avoiding, as well very specific ones, so I just needed to include those things on the list.

*Popcorn *Sugar free fruit crisps
I decided that I needed a bit of room for indulgence in not so bad stuff. These will be my 2 snacky-treats for the next year. I just couldn't bare the thought of going a year without crisps made from our apple & pear trees and the blackberries in our neighbourhood. It may take some creativity, but I will figure out a way to enjoy those crisps! As for popcorn- my sister got me a stovetop popcorn maker for my birthday. I decided it is a great/ not so bad thing to snack on from time to time. I will need to monitor my intake of these things to make sure I'm not just replacing every other treat with these 2. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Comeback Tour - September 2012

I've been on a bloggie break for the last few months. Technical difficulties combined with a busier than usual life meant no blogging for me. But I've been craving it lately, and I'm excited to climb back on the wagon. 

I will take some time to tell you about the newest member of the Wight family, and her wonderful arrival some time soon. For now, let me just tell you that she is amazing. Her name is Violet June, and she is a bundle of peaceful perfection. 

Today, though, let me fill you in on my challenge. It's been brewing in my head for a while now, and I'm really excited to finally have the guts to commit. 

I'm not sure where to start in explaining my goal, and the intentions behind it...

I suppose I will start by explaining that I have a list- I guess you can call it a bucket list- but I believe I have entitled it "List of things to do before I die," or something like that.
Go skydiving - CHECK. Attend an Olympic event - CHECK. Have kids - CHECK. 
On this list there is an unchecked box next to the phrase "Go 1 year without sugar." The first time Dave saw this list he pointed that one out and said "Do you know how hard it is to go without ANY sugar? There's sugar in everything." This discouraged me. He said that there is sugar in bread, that fruit have natural sugars in them, and that it would be really hard for me to avoid it all. I tried to defend my goal, and said "I don't mean THAT kind of sugar." But he was right- I'd written down "Go 1 year without sugar" and I wasn't sure if I would be able to achieve my goal. I've thought about that goal lots over the past few years, and I've come to the conclusion that I wrote the goal down, so I get to decide what it means to me. 

So here is the real/revised/ what I meant all along GOAL:

(when I bite into my birthday cake).

That is all! I've decided to do it now for a few reasons. 

First of all, sometimes a dare is all I need. As a kid I could have absolutely no desire to do something (ie- get out of the hot tub and roll around in the snow... brr- shivers down my spine just thinking about it), but if a dare was issued something in me would snap, and I would just put my head down and get it done. I don't know if that same thing snapped when I wrote down my "no sugar" goal, but I just feel like I need to do this. I feel that same 'snow-on-hot-skin' exhilaration every time I think about this challenge.  

I guess the second big reason for committing to this is that a friend has challenged me to run a half marathon next June. Although at first it terrified me I thought it through and realized that I have time. I have enough time to train properly- and as long as I have trained there should be no problem. I can do it! With this goal in mind, the wheels started turning, and I started to think about my own body, and how I would like to feel a year from now. It may seem naive to some (ie: ANYONE I've ever mentioned it to) but I was absolutely shocked when I heard that weight loss was 80% diet, and 20% exercise. I was always under the impression that I as long as I was active it didn't matter what I ate. 2 pregnancies and an adoration for anything sweet have proven to me that the amount of activity I do will NEVER be enough to prevent me from gaining weight if I don't change my diet. 

Because I have committed to get active, and be in shape, I decided that I wanted my body to reflect that. I now know that if I continue to eat the way I do that I will continue to look the way I do- even if my heart and lungs are feeling better. It just feels like a good time to cut it all out. 

The third reason is less about my body, and more about unhealthy patterns I have recognized in my life. As mentioned before I really love food. It plays a big part in my life. It's how I get through my 2 pm energy crash, it's how I entertain myself on evenings Dave isn't home, it's how I reward myself after a busy day, how I connect with friends, how I show love to my husband, and I think most disturbing of all, it is how I deal with emotional distress. Some people lose their appetite when they are upset- mine triples. I want to clear my life of these unhealthy patterns, while clearing my body of these unhealthy toxins. 

I know as soon as I post this people will tell me all the things that are wrong with this plan- but I'm going to tell you now, that I don't care about those things. I know that there are other plans out there- plans that will be a more effective way to lose weight, maybe plans that would allow me to still enjoy treats while achieving my other goals, plans that would detox my system in less time, and plans that would deal with my compulsive eating habits... but this is my plan! And this is exactly what I want to do. I'm really looking forward to how I will feel 1year from now. 1 day down, 363 to go, and I'm feeling great!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Nap Time.

I woke up today exhausted. I made a blurry eyed attempt at my day- showered, ate, made plans, etc, but after complaining enough and rubbing my eyes for several minutes in a row, I was banished, by my dear husband, to bed. I slept for 4 HOURS! I don't think that should be humanly possible for a... well... human to sleep for that long after a relatively good night's sleep, but for me it was oh so possible- and delightful. With the window open and a small breeze blowing through the room I snored the day away, and woke up when Dave had already put Roland down for an afternoon nap. 
I have always been a napper. It's one of my joys in life. You may think I'm just being dramatic by calling it a "joy." But I think I'm being quite accurate when I say that having a nap in the middle of the day is one of my favorite experiences in life. 
I come by it naturally. In all my years of life I can honestly say that I don't think I've ever seen my dad make it through a church meeting without falling asleep. Considering we went to church EVERY SUNDAY- that is a pretty reliable stat. I've seen my dad fall asleep mid-sentence. He can sleep anywhere- including behind the wheel of a car- but that's too frightening to think about. I remember being so frustrated when he would be the one to read me a story at night because he would without fail fall asleep halfway through. 
Although, I can remember falling asleep every day in kindergarten through grade 2 at story time. We'd all sit down in a semi-circle around Madame Soucy, who would hold up a book and begin to read. I would feel my head begin to bob before the first page was done. By the time they started showing us movies in school my head would drop to the desk minutes after the lights went out. There are movies that we watched (2001 Space Odyssey, Last of the Moheekans) that I know I sat through, but I can barely remember the opening credits. 
One summer I was a camp counselor at Especially for Youth. I did the Vancouver session, played for a week on Vancouver Island, then did 2 Calgary sessions. I think that basically meant that I was awake for a month straight. On the Saturday afternoon between Calgary sessions, as we prepared for the coming week, and recovered from the last, a group of counselors all sat together in a room- talking and snoozing. I fell asleep. Semi-consciousness would wave over me every once in a while to notify me that I was surrounded with a different group of people, but I was incapable of engaging with any of them. I was there, drifting in and out for hours. Eventually I heard one of my friends who I had originally sat down with re-enter the room and say "She's still sleeping? She's like a cat!" And though I don't think I was even able at that point to acknowledge what he had said I still think about it sometimes. I think it's hilarious. 

One time I was dating a guy who just didn't understand naps. He would get annoyed when I would need a nap. I was complaining about it to my darling friend and she looked at me, shrugged her shoulders, and said "He just doesn't understand that you are part sloth." Also- hilarious.

I'm not sure that a cat or a sloth are animals that I like being compared to. But the truth of the matter is that I loves my naps. And I've found a man who understands my need for them. I'm grateful that Dave can sense when the only cure is a nap. And I'm grateful that sometimes he joins me for them. 

Friday, April 20, 2012

blogger's guilt. the 1st.

So I somehow ended up at my blog via a different site, and found that there is actually a convenient little list of all of the posts I've entered- even the ones I haven't published. This one was written MONTHS ago, and I thought that I had deleted it by accident. I was so frustrated that I just turned the computer off and walked away, not even trying to retrieve it. But since I found it I MIGHT AS WELL share it, right? Here she is- the original 'blogger's guilt' post. 

I have a question. Do I have to blog everyday to be a blogger?
What if I only sit down at the computer once a week with the intent to blog, and only publish those attempts half of the time? This was one of the reasons I was hesitant to begin blogging in the first place: Bloggers guilt.
The truth is that I think about this blog often. Daily. Possibly hourly? I've started thinking in blog titles. And yet I don't make it to this point often enough. 'Why,' you may ask, don't I blog more often if so much of my thoughts are here?
Is it that I don't have time to spend staring at a screen? Well... no. That's not it. If that were the case I wouldn't be able to spend way too long, everyday, staring at those certain sites that have me secured with their flaxen cord.

So, it's not about time. Then what is it about? Part of it, I know is the fact that I love a good blog with plenty o' pics to break up the text. Not that a well written blog... or a well written anything, for that matter, should need pictures. But that' just what I like to see! So because I like to see it- I like to do it. I hesitate to share a post without having some sort of illustration/photo/graphic to back up my words. And sometimes waiting for my camera to load... or remembering after I've sat down that the camera is upstairs on the counter, while I have plunked myself down if front of our archaic computer downstairs is just enough to push me past my desire to blog, and into my desire to veg... upon one of the previously eluded to sites.
Besides the effort of the photo retrieving/uploading/editing/posting is the effort of the writing of the blog (not to be confused with the running of the bull). I think the point of me writing a blog is that I really enjoy writing. I think. And while I like to write I am not a speedy writer. I probably read each sentence on average 4 or 5 times before I click on the ever orange "publish post" button. Upon reflection, and now that I've read that sentence over 3 times, I'm re-estimating my reread of each sentence at closer to 8 or 9.  
So while I may not be a frequent blogger- please know that I am a blogger at heart.

Shut the craft up.

This morning I walked out of the house to find some friends weeding my garden. Needless to say I had tears in my eyes as I drove away. I'm grateful for people who act. My mind is full of good intentions... but unfortunately I lack follow through. I am so lucky to have people in my life, as well as to be married to someone, that acts on promptings they receive. Thanks Friends.

Flower Garden.

I've been wanting to put up a wreath on our door for months (since I took down our Christmas wreath, in fact) but I just haven't found something that's what I want. I finally got an image of what I wanted to make while in Walmart yesterday. I started it last night, and finished it this afternoon. I must say- I love it. With the newly weeded garden, freshly cut lawn, and brand spanking new siding finished on the side of the house it's a perfect way to finish off the lovely view as you walk up our driveway. 

Welcome to the Wight House!

I always like seeing other people's step by step process of crafts in picture form, but I never have enough confidence in what I'm doing to take pictures at each step. I can't stand it when people look over my shoulder at what I'm doing, and I feel like that's what I would be doing... to myself? Anywho- I'll explain what I did- because I love how it turned out!

1. I took a frame that was actually quite thin- probably a boarder of about 1 cm. I cut out some cardboard matting. to increase the width of the boarder.
2. Using a hot glue gun to secure the end I just wrapped jute around the frame. It took a while to get a knack for it, and to decide how I liked it, but eventually I decided that I liked a flat, orderly sort of look, versus a mish-mash look. The corners were tricky, and I did each one differently, but decided I liked the ones showing the best. 
3. I used acrylic craft paint to paint the wooden 'W' I'd purchased at walmart for about a buck. 
4. With scraps of fabric I've used in other projects (remnants of the bunting in Roland's room & scraps from his blankie) I made little fabric flowers. They are easy peasy to make- just cut out circles, fold them into quarters, and glue them into the shape of a flower. I swirled and glued the jute for the centers of each flower. I was planning on using buttons, but I liked how this looked more. 
5. I hot glued everything into place! 
6. I finished it by tying a loop of jute and hanging it from the hook I placed on our door at Christmas. It looked a bit sloppy for my liking (hence why you can't see it in the first picture) so I think I'll replace to loop with ribbon - an easy fix.

I just love getting my craft on!

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Scatter Sunshine

The other day a friend dropped me off at home, and while opening the door she looked at our yard and said "Nice flowers." It's true. The flowers in our yard are nice... in fact, they are beautiful. The tulips, daffodils & hyacinth are in full bloom and look lovely.  The yellows, pinks & purple contrast beautifully and I just adore them. The problem is that she didn't stop there. She said it, and then she said "nice weeds," as she kicked a weed that was growing so well it had made it's way out of the flower bed and onto the driveway. It was said in passing. And probably in fun. But I didn't find it funny. I wonder what my face looked like when she said it. I think my jaw probably dropped, and then I recovered with a little laugh and some lame excuse, before grabbing Roly out of the car, and going inside without a backward glance. 
I know I blew things out of proportion, as I tend to do these days, in my ridiculously sensitive state, but what she said made me so mad. I just kept thinking "Why did she have to say that? Has she seen my life? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?" Ultimately I realized that I wasn't mad that she told me there were weeds in my garden. I was mad that I knew there were weeds in my garden, and I was too overwhelmed to deal with them. I was mad that she didn't acknowledge how tough it would be to do all the weeding for such a large garden. I was mad that no one had offered to help me weed that said garden. 
I have a very active little boy, and a very active little fetus and the thought of weeding the front garden just scared me. I couldn't wrap my head around how to get out there, with Roly in toe, and get this done without him running into the street. I put forth some piddly little attempts, which would last about 20 minutes while Roland would stay close to me, digging in the dirt, and helping me weed, until he would get bored and start venturing out past the flower beds and closer and closer to the street.  A couple of those attempts got a single corner of the yard weeded... I'd say 1/8 of the total that needed to be done. 
A few days later one of Dave's friends dropped by and made some crack about our "Garden of Weeden." Well that was just salt in my open wound, and I tried not to let it show, but yet again I found myself wondering if anyone had considered how the dickens I was supposed to get this done.
I just wanted someone to consider the following: Roland sleeps until 7:30 or 8:00 am. From that time forward, until 8:00 pm he is essentially by my side, running away from me at high speed, or in my arms. He has become a good little napper, but the truth is, so have I. I tend to nap during the day when he does, and if I don't I tend to feel a bit of exhaustion border-lining hysteria by about 6 pm. So to get myself through the day without a snap, I nap. So, I can spend about 20 minutes at a time in the front, which does approximately nothing. And if I wait long enough in between weeding, the attempts I've made are already grown in with more weeds, that match the rest of the yard. 
So that day, after Dave left I decided I'd waited long enough. I got my butt in gear, and went out to do some weeding while Roland slept. I accomplished a lot more in that short time, without worrying about my little munchkin running in front of a city bus, than I had in previous attempts. When Dave and his friend got back his friend was quick to point out the progress. He said it looked great, and went on to say that it was good for me to spend time on my hands and knees, as it encourages baby to be in the right position during labor. A simple comment. But it really brightened my day. He acknowledged my attempt, and encouraged me to do more.  
Well, that explanation took much longer than I thought it would... apparently I'm not over it! But most of this is beside the point. What this situation really got me thinking about was the people in my life that scatter sunshine, that fill my mind with hope and happiness... vs. the people that leave rain clouds... and piddle on my parade.

I had a conversation with a friend a while ago which has stuck with me. We were talking about her mother in law: a beautiful, confident, creative individual, who my friend greatly admires and knows cares about her. In a moment of feeling completely overwhelmed and frustrated my friend wondered aloud why her mother in law had never expressed words of encouragement to her. "She has never told me I'm a good mother, or a good wife, or a good cook. She never tells me what we are doing right." My friend was wishing that someone would spread a little sunshine, and acknowledge her sacrifice. Her mother in law is one of the most stylish and talented ladies I've ever met, yet when the people around her needed to feel the confidence she seemed to exude she wasn't able to share it. I couldn't help but contrast her mother in law with another woman I know- my Aunt Trish. Trish is a beautiful, creative, amazing woman. Her house will forever be one of my favorite places in the world, made better only by being in her presence. Here's the thing about Trish- she is hilarious, full of this self degrading humour that perhaps only our family understands and an honesty which I greatly admire, but more than that, when she speaks she builds. She uses the word "perfect" to describe my actions way to often for it to be true, but enough for me to feel really great about what I'm doing when I'm with her. She allows other people to feel good about their attempts, which encourages them to go on, to try again, and to try really hard to live up to the words she has already used to describe them. She has amazing children, with that same ability. I admire her, and love her, and I appreciate all the sunshine she has brought into my life. 

So, in reflecting on these different people- the parade piddlers and the sunshine spreaders I just wonder which  one I am. Am I building people up? Am I encouraging them to do more and be better? Or am I using confidence as a guise to hurt others and inadvertently tear them down? Do people I come in contact with want to hear what is going to come out of my mouth? Or do my friends and family take cover when I'm about to speak? Can I see past the weeds enough to point out the flowers? Do I point out the weeds without realizing that someone is doing all they are capable of in that moment to get rid of them? Am I tearing others down in my own attempts at humour or attempts to build myslef up? 

Do I encourage? Do I uplift? Do I inspire? 

I hope so. I am going to work on doing so. I want my friends, my neighbours, and more than anyone else, my family- my husband & children, to feel like when they are with me they are capable of doing anything, that all attempts are good enough. I don't want feelings of discouragement, insecurity, hopelessness or fear to be brought on by words that I speak. 

It might seem hokey... but I'm going to insert the lyrics to a hymn, which I've been humming to myself since I started writing this. It really just describes how I feel perfectly. 

Scatter Sunshine
Hymn #230, by Lanta Wilson Smith.

In a world where sorrow
Ever will be known,
Where are found the needy,
And the sad and lone;
How much joy and comfort
You can all bestow,
If you scatter sunshine
Everywhere you go.

Scatter sunshine all along your way;
Cheer and bless and brighten
Every passing day;
Scatter sunshine all along your way;
Cheer and bless and brighten
Every passing day.

Slightest actions often
Meet the sorest needs,
For the world wants daily
Little kindly deeds;
Oh, what care and sorrow
You may help remove,
With your songs and courage,
Sympathy and love.

When the days are gloomy,
Sing some happy song;
Meet the world's repining
With a courage strong;
Go with faith undaunted
Thro' the ills of life;
Scatter smiles and sunshine
O'er its toil and strife.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

One of those days...

I woke up this morning with sunshine all around me. Today is one of those gorgeous spring days that I crave throughout the rest of the year. Sunshine, blossoms, green grass & still. While I was in the shower I kept thinking about how badly I wanted pancakes and by the time I was dressed, in my springiest dress, Dave had read my mind and made them. They were delicious... but sitting down to eat set us back, causing the last few minutes before church to be a mad rush. There was sunshine all around me, and I had absolutely nothing to complain about, but a dark cloud was forming in my mind; I was grouch. 

Church was fine. Roland was well behaved, and Dave took him out when he could sit for no longer. Dave and I sat together in Sunday school... maybe for the first time since we've been married? It's been a LONG time since neither of us were teaching primary on Sunday. We even got to hold a lovely little baby - a perfect little boy for a few minutes. Dave put his arm around me, and even gave me a smooch when I went off to Relief Society. 

I hate sharing this, because it makes me seem crazy. I feel like I'm a pretty level headed human being, but at times as a woman... and more often as a pregnant woman especially, I am an emotional being! I have these days where attacks of emotion cause a constant lump in my throat that is impossible to explain away. Today was one of those days. A simple comment, made in passing, with a smile on the face of this sweet woman that I visit teach hurt my feelings and brought the lump into my throat. We were talking about my due date, and she laughed and said "are you sure there's only one in there?" Good one. It hurt my feelings for a few reasons- maybe because I'm feeling (and thought I was looking) pretty dang good - I still fit into normal jeans. I've been active- walking, biking, swimming. I was on skype a few weeks ago and someone said it looked like I'd lost weight (obviously not true, but it was nice to hear). So that comment, made in innocence, just a lady trying to crack a joke cracked my sun shiny glasses, and let the clouds roll in. It was fast Sunday, and although I wasn't fasting (ie: previously mentioned pancakes) I was trying to be respectful to the people around me, and refrain from the constant drinking of water, and snacking that I've become accustomed to. The nauseous head ache had set in, and I was irritable.

I sat there for the rest of Relief Society, hearing a wonderful lesson about the worth of souls. It was beautiful, but I felt disconnected. The teacher asked for comments about a specific circumstance; one I had found myself in in the past, and had got through with the Savior's help. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to comment. I just wasn't feeling it. 

By the time we got home from church I was done emotionally. Dave was being sweet. He took over prep for supper, while I made lunch... but a few simple comments from him landed me in bed with a tear stained pillow. They weren't mean comments, not even offensive on a normal day: some constructive criticism about the dinner rolls I had made the day before, and some poking fun at my spelling on the list of Japanese words on our fridge- but to me in that moment, I just couldn't handle it. I ate lunch begrudgingly, then went to bed for a few hours, leaving Dave to make supper, put Roland down and get Roland up... yes I outnapped my 19 month old. But I woke up with a new perspective and apologies on my lips. 

I hate it when I get like this, but I don't know how to stop myself. I remember the feeling, as a teenager- just screaming at my mom, slamming the door, then thinking "I don't even know why I did that. I'm not really that mad." I thought I'd get over those hormonal outbursts as I got older. It happens about once a month when I'm not pregnant, and way too often while I am, that my emotions get the best of me. That I am irritable, and angry, quick to take offense, and quick to dish it out. Like I said before, I think of myself as a pretty level headed human being... but on days liek today it doesn't take much to tip the scales one way or the other.

One day a few months ago Dave was in another room, and I called to him. 
He came out, looking concerned and said "What?" with a tone of fear and remorse. 
"Nothing." I replied, "I was just wondering... " 
But then I thought for a second, and said "What did you think I was going to ask you?" 
He admitted he thought he was in trouble for something. I laughed and apologized that he lived in constant fear of his wife. 
He smiled and said "It's not constant fear. Only when you're pregnant, or have your period."
I thought for a few seconds... at that point in our lives together that came to about 3/4 of our marriage that Dave had spent in fear of this old lady. Poor Dave.

I don't know what today's lesson is. Perhaps that I need to have lunch and take a nap a little sooner next time? Perhaps that I need medication and counselor? Maybe that I need to wear a sign around my neck on days like today that reads "If you talk to me I'll probably start crying. Approach at your own risk." And maybe this is it. My life I mean. Maybe this is who I am, and what I need to learn to deal with. Something I need to deal with without burning bridges and hurting the feelings of those I love every 4 weeks, or for 9 months straight every couple of years. I guess, this is another opportunity that I have to go to the Lord, and say that this experience is more than I can tackle on my own. With His help maybe I can get through it all- with less tears, less tearing remarks, and more love. 
I hope so (and I'm pretty sure Dave hopes so too).

Friday, March 16, 2012

Good Morning! Good Morning!

I'm not a morning person. I was nervous about becoming a mother for a few reasons, but my biggest fear (no matter how ridiculous this seems) was about sleep. I love to sleep, and I wasn't sure how I would react to a baby when I was deprived of it. Turns out I had a baby that also loved to sleep. We slept in until 10 am every morning for Rolands first 8 months of life. It was delightful.

When Roland had just turned 1, I was finally feeling like I needed to get my butt in gear and get back into shape. I enrolled in a bootcamp, in which there were 2 options: 6 am or 6 pm. I obviously wanted to go at 6 pm. Dave's schedule is super unpredictable, and when he's busy with his job the majority of his appointments should actually be in the evenings. So in my attempt to be supportive of him, as well as for a guarantee that he would be home to watch Roland (I didn't need any excuses to miss this thing!), I signed up for the morning class. This decision changed my life!
It was through groupon, and I got 6 weeks for super cheap. I really enjoyed it, saw results after just a few weeks, and would/should/could have continued, except I found out I was preggo, and felt like pushing my body to the point of pure exhaustion twice a week wasn't a good choice for me at that time. I'm still not sure if I made the right choice by not going back after those 6 weeks. But I do know that I WILL go back after baby #2 is born.

I enjoyed this experience for so many reasons. I loved what I learned about myself. I loved feeling like an athlete again. I loved going from the slowest one, (ok, I HATED BEING THE SLOWEST ONE) that had to lay on the bathroom floor halfway through the first class so I didn't toss my cookies all over the gym, to being able to compete with the people who had been enrolled in the class for the past few years. I loved that the class was ultimately designed and measured according to personal bests. It was about doing my best, where I was, individually. But there were people around me that would encourage me and challenge me to do better and to work harder. I loved coming home and finding my boys still in bed, happy to see me. I loved being drenched in sweat and feeling strong.
But the thing that I loved, that surprised me the most, was how much I loved waking up early. I loved knowing that even if I didn't do anything else that day I would have accomplished something. I loved beating the sun up, and having her guide me home. I loved feeling tired- really really tired - at the end of the day. No reward is as good as falling into bed at night when your muscles are aching and your eyes are burning.
We had to make changes in our habits to make this work. I will admit that we are kind of tv junkies. We wind down at the end of most days with an episode or 2 of our favorite shows. Midnight (or later) was the standard time we'd roll into bed. We'd awake the next morning, bleary eyed and tired, arguing over who should get Roland, and trying to squeeze every last minute out of our sleep. The truth is that I probably wasn't sleeping well through the night because I wasn't using my body through the day to do what it was designed for- to move.
So! We committed to be in bed by 10 pm every night- not just the nights before boot camp- every night. It is amazing what going to bed early, having a solid sleep, then waking up early can do to a person! It really did change my outlook on the world. I felt a million times better!
I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I've consistently been going to bed, sleeping well, waking up and working out since I gained my new outlook. In fact twice this week we stayed up passed 2 am, playing Rook with my brother in law & sister in law, then slept in passed 9 the next morning, BUT some things have changed for good. For the first time in my life I've stopped using the excuse "I'm not a morning person." And although I still frequently seek out a mid-day nap I am well aware of the connection between how much I move during the day and how well I sleep at night.
Last Sunday was Daylight Savings. Roland still hasn't adjusted. Having family in town last week, which lead to several late nights in a row for him hasn't helped. His bed time (ie: when he'll consider going to bed) has been pushed back by about an hour and a half. But that also means that he's not waking up until 9 am every morning. That means that I have been waking up before him, which is just bizarre. But it gives me some time to take in the day, instead of hit the ground running. It was nice this morning to be up and at 'er for a while before my little man, and to have my wits about me when I went in to get him, instead of stumbling in with bleary-eyed impatience.
It's been quite the experience to realize that not being a morning person doesn't mean I can't enjoy the morning... because what kind of excuse is that anyways?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Roly's Room

I did this a few weeks ago, but it took me forever to upload the pictures from my camera, so I'm finally sharing my latest creative endeavor now... drum roll... A collage wall in Roland's room.

I know it looks a little busy, but I love it!  I obviously still need to fill the frames & do some finishing touches, but here is the just of it. Shall I explain the process? I might as well, considering sharing this was the only intent behind this post:
  • Bunting - The fabric was originally purchased and cut out for Roly's first birthday party. I threaded a single piece of yarn through the single sided fabric, and strung it up all around our back yard. I loved how it looked, but when I decided to use it in his room I wanted it to be less flimsy. I ended up sewing 2 triangles together to add more structure, and crocheting a long chain (about 4 wide), which I sewed each triangle onto. Now that I'm looking at the picture it looks a little cock-eyed. Apparently I need to straighten it out a bit. 
  • Paintings - I used a few different types of canvases, mostly purchased from the dollar store or Michael's, and painted different patterned backgrounds onto them with the same neutral, yellow/ beige colours. I think I will paint a large 'R' on one of the blank canvases, and a large '__' on the other, for baby to be :) The tree was a long work in progress, and I'm happy that it finally has a place on the wall, in its completed form. 
  • Clock - A birthday gift from my brother Joel, probably 5 years ago. Who knew I would use it in my baby boy's room? "Whoooo?"
  • Animal Alphabet Poster - My sister in law, Shannon, got that made for Roly when he was born. I love it, but Roland absolutely adores it. He could stand at it pointing at the animals, and making noises for HOURS if I let him. He will stare at it for as long as I have the patience to hold him in front of it. 
  • Frames - Some were purchased at the thrift store, and my mom gave me a truck load of mismatched frames last time I was home. I painted them with thick layers of acrylic paint. I put simple brown paper as a background for all of the the frames. I like the look. I'm hoping to get the following prints / pictures for the frames:
    • A large photo of Roland and Baby for the big green frame. Until then I might even print a photo of Roland and my belly.
      Although let's be honest - baby is coming in 3 months! I probably won't get to printing a picture before then!
    • A picture of the Savior. Possibly Jesus and the children. I haven't found the perfect print yet. I'm still on the look out. I would love suggestions if anyone has any. 
    • A family photo of all of us. 
    • Pictures of Roland and baby with cousins and grandparents.
    • I already have pictures of the Vancouver Temple & the First Presidency in frames.
      Allow me to take a moment to brag about my child: He knows who to point at when I ask where Presidents Monson, Uchtdorf and Eyering are. The little smarty pants!
  • The Quilt - I just had to include it in the picture. I'm so proud of it! It was made by me and my mama over thanksgiving. I absolutely love it. It really helped with my struggles with getting Roly to sleep after we weened him off the boob, bottle and soother all within a week's time. 
I love turquoise and green together, with accents of red and brown. For months I've been wanting to have gospel pictures in Roly's room. I just couldn't picture how to implement it. I'm delighted to have at least the outline done!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Pass the sugar, Sugar.

Oh SUGAR! You don't need to know me well to know that I LOVE SUGAR. When I was little I used to sneak into the cupboard, close the door behind me, and literally eat the brown sugar right out of the bucket. I still love sugar in most forms. Let me expand upon that. In no specific order, here are some of my favorites:

Vanilla ice cream with strawberries, brownies, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, mars bars, lifesavers, candy canes, doggy doo doos, chocolate crinkle cookies, moose tracks ice cream, tiger tiger ice cream, Reese's puffs, black licorice toffee, mars bars, skor blizzards, oreo mc flurries, twix bars, sour keys, slurpees, any/ all kinds of cheese cake, 5 cent candies from 7-11, root beer, rice crispy squares, jolly ranchers, peppermints, fruit loops, popsicles, caramel apples, wine gums, hot chocolate, smores, jelly bellies, runts, skittles, hot tamales, mike and ikes ...

You probably get the point. I just wanted to illustrate the fact that I don't discriminate; while most people's tastes mature as they get older, mine haven't. Don't get me wrong- they've expanded. I enjoy a far darker chocolate than I used to, but the truth is that I will still eat that cheap waxy chocolate you get at Easter like there's no tomorrow. And nothing makes my mouth water like a clear little baggie of obscurely shaped gummies slathered in sour sugar.

My relationship with food is a complicated one (or maybe it's not) but we won't get into that right now. Now we will simply discuss the reasons I need to end this love affair that I have with sugar. Immediately... Or as soon as I make, then eat, a delicious something with the pack of skor bits sitting in my pantry, because can't start any sort of cleanse from the vile weed, with such a delightful specimen sitting within reach!

So the cons of sugar are obvious, even to a faithful follower such as myself. But allow me to outline them- perhaps more for my own benefit than for anyone else's.

1. My face is a tell tale sign of my sugar intake. Each bite of sugar I take appears within 12 hours on my face. Too much information? Perhaps. But let me expand further. The more (and the cheaper - NO JOKE!) the sugar I eat, the worse my face breaks out the next day. Each 2 bite brownie can be traded across the board for a zit on my chin. Perhaps due to the fact that it is eaten with less inhibition, or perhaps due to the actual ingredients, but a chocolate with a higher cocoa content does less damage on mon visage.

2. My butt. I am currently about 5 months pregnant. In the first 4 months I didn't gain a single pound. In the last month and a half I have gained close to 10. Oh boy. And the truth is, it's been an active month. Roly and I walk almost every day. We go to the pool at least once/ week. But alas- I eat. a few weeks ago I made a huge batch of cookie dough, and froze it, anticipating company, and different situations in which a fresh batch of cookies may come in handy. Well, it came in really handy on nights where Dave and I were sitting, watching t.v. and wanted some cookie dough. And lets just be honest with ourselves - EVERY situation is the perfect situation for fresh cookies. Several batches were made (and-cough-eaten-cough) that week.

3. My health. This hadn't crossed my mind until tonight, but this darn sugar habit may just be killing me in more ways than one. I have a rock solid immune system. I think that working with kids for years has given me the immune system of an ox, as I've been coughed/sneezed/peed/puked on by more kids than I can count. Dave and Roly catch EVERYTHING that rolls through. They just have to hear about someone being sick, and before you know it these two have it too!
2 or 3 weeks ago Dave and Roly got sick- coughs, runny noses, etc, and I stayed strong for a few days, but then I caught it as well. I put myself on a strict regiment of lemon-ginger tea and I felt better within a few days, while Dave suffered it out for at least another week. Well, it didn't take long until I was feeling it again, and even though it's been a few weeks I just can't KICK it. My cough won't hit the road, and my nose won't stop running.
I had a meeting tonight, and someone asked if I was sick. I guess they could hear it in my voice. I explained that I felt fine, I just had this cough and congestion that I can't get rid of. She offered up the suggestion of pregnancy congestion, which I had to dismiss. I've had/do have that- this is more than that. That's when someone asked if I ate a lot of sugar. I looked at her and bit my lip. She simply said- "That happened to me, where I couldn't get rid of a cold. Just think of the sugar as feeding your cold." The conversation moved on, but my thoughts stayed right there.
Could it be? Could my lovely little friend, Sugar, be causing all this frustration? Could it be the straw that I needed to break this camel's back? To get me over the denial of my addiction, and into a place where I can admit that I need to cut out all this crap I keep putting into my body and feeding to my baby? Maybe this realization is just what I needed.
And maybe, just maybe, it will be enough... and maybe I sat down and ate 3 cookies after that meeting ended, and before I started this blog. Let's be honest. It will take more than a little health scare to keep me away from this mistress.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012


First of all, let me introduce the topic of this post with a video. Watch this:

I love this video. It inspires me. The words President Uchtdorf says make my toes tingle, and it feels like everything in my heart and mind click into place. So often in this life I feel like there are conflicting values, ideas and pressures all around me. And the thing about this life is that we are given the opportunity to choose for ourselves what to follow- what to believe.

There are doctrines/values/principles that I have been taught, and that as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints I truly believe. There are ideas/theories/practices that I was taught in Early Childhood Development, and in Child and Youth Care that I believe, and that I'm passionate about implementing in my own life. There are notions/assumptions/beliefs that I have about mankind that I've acquired through life experience, through working and existing with other human beings, that influence every choice I make. There are moments in my life, where all those notions, those values, those theories click into place, in my mind and in my heart. Those moments would happen, when I'd be sitting in class, the prof would be talking about something, and their words would ring true. The spirit would tell me that what they spoke was right, and that that my knowledge of the significance of our earthly existence, and eternal nature supported that truth. Those moments have happened at home, as I've been seeking personal revelation, through prayer, and scripture study. As I've done so thoughts have crossed my mind that have told me what I've needed to hear. Those thoughts have come in words of scripture, but they have also come in reminders of  experiences that I've had with other people. They have come through words of friends and family. My worlds are often colliding- and it is through those collisions that I feel most at peace. When I realize that the life that I'm striving to live is in line with my heart, and my actions.

Well! This video is a collision of worlds for me. President Uchtdorf speaks about the importance of creating. This is a concept that I hold dear. I know that I am happier when my creative juices are flowing. I know that times when I feel the worst about myself are times where I am stubbornly refusing to put my creative desires into action. There are times when I become frustrated with my own abilities... and to be honest, with the reactions of people around me, and I feel inadequate and incapable. But the truth is, I LOVE TO CREATE. And I love that Pres. U. tells us to do it! I feel closer to God, and most like myself when I am making my surroundings into something that is aesthetically pleasing. It's that worlds colliding feeling all over again- that feeling that "this is good." On all levels.

This one time, 3 years ago, I decided I wanted to paint something. I started painting a tree. Tonight I finished it. Yup. 3 years later. I like it. It has my 2 baby birds in it. It will go on Roly's wall, which after months of brooding, and humming and hawing I've made a decision of what I want to do there. I've decided I'm not holding back anymore- not letting insecurities and feelings of inadequacies interfere with my desire my make things beautiful, and make beautiful things.

I've decided to use this here blog as my platform of creation. To document my creative endeavors. The things I cut, paste, paint, tie, sew, crochet, cook, hang... and give birth to. 

You can choose to follow me on my journey to create, if you so desire!

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Deep Thoughts... by Ali

Lesson I learned today:
Being kind of Hungry is a better feeling than being too full.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Hobby Horse

Dave and I have been hosting students for almost a year now. We've mostly had students from Japan- ranging in age from 12 - 26. And staying with us for a few days up to a few months. We currently have 2 girls from China, who are 13 years old, staying with us for 2 weeks. It's been an interesting experience, with highs and lows.
Highs have so far consisted of the following:

  • Sweet gifts: handkerchiefs, picture frames, origami, paper, paintings, toys, books, etc. The top shelf of our book shelf is filling up with all sorts of pretty little Asian things. 
  • We have learned interesting phrases and words in other languages. Dave's favorite is probably the Japanese word for McDonald's - "MacanoDanolodo." He likes it so much that sometimes he walks around the house singing it over and over to himself. 
  • We meet and interact with interesting people, who teach us about their cultures and beliefs.
  • We are able to open our home and teach others about who we are and what we believe. We are able to share our own personal values through discussions and simply living our lives.
  • Hearing our student curse in the name of a pop singer when she stepped on a tack. I almost died laughing when I heard her utter the phrase "Oh my Lady Gaga." 
  • Introducing new food to them is great. The looks on their faces when they are trying so hard to be polite, but have no idea what they are about to eat - and then they take a bite and we all relax a bit when they say "It's delicious!"
The lows include the following:
  • When the words "It's delicious" don't come out of their mouths. I always feel so bad, but at the same time so annoyed when students don't like what I've made. Generally all of our students have been great about eating (and at least claiming to enjoy) meals that I've made for them, except for a few exceptions who were less than gracious about our hospitality. 
  • Having to lock the bathroom door.
  • Walking around in my undies isn't an option when we have students. 
  • Attempting to explain complicated words that I've made the mistake of using. Sometimes I just wish I could rewind my words and start conversations over. I tend to dig myself into confusing little pits with my words that Dave has to dig me out of. 
  • Finally, and worst of all: On each application for each new homestay agency they ask several questions, most of which I'm happy to answer. There is one question though, which I can't seem to concoct a reply. The question?

Uurrrrg! I hate that question! 

It's like when people would ask me "What are you up to these days?" right after I had Roly. What do you mean what am I up to? I feed this child 14 times / day. I change his diaper every hour. I'm constantly covered in milk and spit up. I am lucky to get a shower in, let alone, get up to something!

And so, when the question comes up - "What are your hobbies?" Dave, who is usually filling out the form, always writes "crafts," and then he, without fail, says "Ali, What are your hobbies?" And I look at him, with a blank face, and I shrug my shoulders.
I don't know. I don't know what my hobbies are. I've lost all sense of hobbies. I can tell you what I like:

I like the colour green. I like folding laundry when it's fresh out of the dryer. I like icecream... a lot. I like cuddling on the couch. I like to doodle things like leaves and swirls. I like musicals. I like new socks. I like mountains. I like plaid. I like to paint pictures. I like to blog. I like snow. I like it when it's rainy and sunny at the same time. I like puddles. I like table cloths. I like the cello. I like babies. I like going through all the aisles at the grocery store. I like facebook. I like it when Dave giggles. I like to floss my teeth. I like using a straw to drink things. I like to go for bike rides. I like to go for walks along bodies of water. I like to organize things. I like sour cream doughnuts from Tim Hortons. I like cooking new things. I like making the same 3 cookie recipes over and over and over. I like CBC radio. I like paper lanterns. I like maternity jeans. I like it when my car is clean & fuel tank is full. I like earrings. I like chicken noodle soup. I like dancing in the kitchen. I like volleyball. I like to crochet toques. I like to hike up mountains. 

Ok... you get the point. I like things. Also, I do things. I just don't know how to answer the question "What are your hobbies?" Maybe one day I will gain a hobby that's exciting enough to include on a homestay application. Until then I will include "flossing my teeth."

Monday, January 30, 2012

i Blog... i Mom

Today I am blogging from the warm glow of my i Pad. I decided that I want to try it. And since I'm not sure where the lap top is (all I know is that I can't reach it/ see it from my comfortable spot, right here on the couch) I've decided that today is the day to give 'er a try.

For those of you who:
a) aren't parents
b) aren't related to me
c) have a black black heart

You may not be interested in this post. I'll understand (actually I won't even know!) if you don't want to read this... but but there are just some things that need to be said. And those things are in regards to my son. Roland Marlow Wight.

I'm sorry. But I just have to gush.

Roly is so cute. He is the sweetest little boy. A cuddle from him fills my love tank to the brim. I just love him so much.

Today (and most days) was full of moments that made me feel so fully and sentimentally in love with this child.

To begin with, Dave brought him in to our room early this morning. We have some students here for a couple weeks, and we were hoping to keep Roly asleep while the girls got ready, which meant I got some sweet sleepy snuggles from the man child. When Dave put him down Roly nuzzled into me, looked up, smooched me on the lips, then went to sleep for an hour. It was adorable.

We had a little play date with my friend Meagan, and her little guy Henry, which has become one of those things in my week that I look forward to most. All we do is sit and talk while the boys play (and fight over toys) but I just really enjoy it. At one point Henry and Roland both wanted a ball. Meagan had them sit down. They sat across from each other and threw the ball back and forth a bit. It was so stinking cute. They are around the same age, and they just look like a couple of old men together. It felt like a glimpse into the future. I got that heart achy "my baby is growing up" feeling. I really have high hopes for this kid. I'm pretty sure every parent feels this, but I really think that Roland will do great things. I think he's amazing... and I'm not biased at all.

There was a second heart achey moment today, caused by my own foolishness. For weeks Roland was fine going down the stairs. He FINALLY agreed to be taught how to go down backwards, on his knees. But for the past week he has stopped doing that. He's also stopped the less safe alternative of sliding down on his bum. He either wants to walk down, one stair at a time, on his own 2 feet, or be carried. Well in my own stubbornness I got him started going down backwards today, then went ahead of him to grab shoes and jackets. I glanced up to see him standing up, still near the top. I scolded him for being silly, then reached for my shoes. I had one shoe half on when I heard the clunk. Several clunks (and I'm sure less than 2 seconds) later I caught him as he bounced onto the bottom step. He cried. I cried. I felt stupid and guilty and mostly my heart ached that he had just rolled down the stairs, and I could have prevented it. Poor child. It's too bad that he has to be the one to teach me lessons sometimes. He got a goose egg over his left eye, which I'm sure will be blue tomorrow. Just a reminder to me to be more patient with my darling boy, I guess.

We had a recovery cuddle, then eventually got out the door - to Thrifty Foods, where he got his free cookie and continued to wrap me around his outrageously chubby finger. He's starting to talk, and will imitate words and phrases I say when he's in some moods, or like today, he will repeat the only words he knows over and over. In the hour we spent at the store Roland barked at almost everyone he saw (woof is his 3rd favorite word), called every food he saw a "cracker" (one of two foods he can say) and said the word "ball" (his favorite word by far) 30 million times. He giggled the cutest little giggles that I ever did hear, as I tickled him under the chin through the chip and soap aisles. When we finally made it through the checkout and into the parking lot his eyes went wide, he pointed at the sky and yelled "Ball!" I looked up and saw the moon. "Not ball, moon." I said. "Moooooooo" he said, with lips that stuck out an inch. Over and over for the ride home he repeated, "Mooooooo."

Well, a few minutes ago he woke up crying. I'm not sure what woke him up. It could have been the movie we were watching (funny side note- I-robot is the only movie we have that has Chinese subtitles, thus the only movie we could watch with our students tonight!) but I didn't mind. Once Roly is in bed I miss him. There are some nights that I just need my peace and quiet, but mostly I love an excuse to go into his room. Once I'm in bed that's a whole other story. Once I'm asleep I'm like a hibernating bear that no one should try to awaken, but BEFORE I go to bed, I'm happy to get a pre-sleep snuggle from the little guy. And snuggle I did get. He put his head down on my chest as soon as I picked him up. He whined out a little "Mama," then was asleep before I made my way over to the rocking chair. Those snuggles are the best.

There's a little baby in my belly. I know that this baby is special. I know I will love this baby. I know it... but there are moments where I wonder. Where I wonder how people do it- how moms make room in their hearts to love all their babies. I wonder not IF, but HOW I will love this baby as much as I love Roland. But then I have moments- like today, when Roland lifted up my shirt, peeked under and said "baba" (his version of baby) with a smile. It's those moments where I realized that we are a family. It's not Roland vs. Baby. It`s me and Dave and our children. Roland, fetus, and whoever else the Lord wants to bless our lives with. We will fit together. There will be room in my heart for new baby, not because there's an empty space waiting, but because my days are spent stretching out this heart of mine, feeling more and more love than I ever knew I could. And I know that this baby will stretch it further- teach me lessons about patience and sacrifice, and ultimately, as my own family did, as Dave has done, and as Roland does every day, this baby will teach me lessons in Love.

i Love

Monday, January 23, 2012

Bloggers Guilt

Once upon a time I wrote a blog with this title. I sat up late writing it. It took a while. When I was done I pressed "publish post," after which the computer froze, and the blog entry was lost forever in cyber space. It's moments like those that make me hate technology.
I've been meaning to get back on the blogger train for a few weeks now; I have several topics in my brain, pictures on my camera, and a desire to in my heart of hearts...but let me share my excuses with you, most of which I won't get (and deserve no) sympathy for:

1.  I got an iPad for Christmas. A shiny, white, lovely iPad. I love her. I think she's swell. She makes wasting time so much more fashionable than it used to be. I can play this one game with all my brother in laws, called "Disk Drivin" like a true tech-geek. I no longer need to "check" my facebook, as my iPad beeps at me when something happens there. I can text Dave random thoughts that cross my mind whenever I feel like it... AND my son becomes an insane monster who will bite or smack anyone who comes between him and her, every time he sees this said iPad. It's win win all round.
There are however a few drawbacks. Although the pinterest app is nice for stalking out other people's pins and "repinning" I can't for the life of me figure out how to "pin" something. I've gone through the instructions multiple times, and even got my hubby to try. He was so confused by the concept of pinterest that we really didn't get very far. Also, and more to the point of this post: typing on on my iPad - more than a witty facebook comment, or text message, is kind of annoying- I'm just not very quick with it. The auto correct feature, again while handy during texts, isn't so much, when I'm really trying to express myself.
So, while there are pros & cons to the iPad, the point is, I haven't yet tried to blog with it.

2.  The other day Dave and I had someone coming by the house for a homestay program we'd applied for. She had rescheduled since the snow had made her (along with every other citizen of Greater Victoria) a prisoner in her own home. Dave had neglected to tell me when she had rescheduled for, until an hour before she was coming. In my frantic attempt to get the house looking presentable I turned on a movie for Roly to watch, on the laptop. This never works, so I should have been concerned about how quiet and content he was, in front of the computer. It wasn't until he proudly held up a little black square to me that I realized he had used those fine motor skills and that pincer grasp that he honed during all that Christmas present unwrapping, to pluck several keys off of the laptop keyboard. Although I found most of them and stuck them back on- they've been a real pain in the butt all week. The "N" key has fallen off at least 16 times today (it's sitting next to me on the couch). The comma key is a little bit lopsided, and I have to push really hard every time I use it. The square bracket key is precariously perched on top of whatever it should be connected to, and the "V" key is just missing all together. This has made me curse every time I try to write something. Thus, blogging has not been my first priority.

3.  Dave and I started watching Prison Break. I'm an addict. Any free moment Dave and I have in common throughout the day is spent watching it. We are almost done season 2, so just 2 more to go! Maybe once I'm through my addiction I will have other thoughts that occupy my mind, beside Micheal Scofield & Lincoln Burrows. When that happens I'll be sure to fill you in.

    So, though I feel guilty about it... I just can't blog these days. I'm sure I'll get over it. Something will push me to the edge, of needing to express myself to whoever reads this thing. 

    Stay tuned... or don't... but I swear I'll come back one of these days.