Post #4: Sunday Will Come

This project has been interesting. Each time I've sat down to write a post, the idea for it comes maybe only hours before. It's like a download in my brain and somehow I'm able to just type out the words.

This morning as I skimmed through social media posts, I loved seeing so many about this upcoming Easter Holiday. More importantly, I loved seeing so many people share such personal and sacred testimonies of the Savior. It got my mind thinking about what it was like for those in Jesus' time, walking with him, witnessing those miracles, seeing first hand this miraculous Son of God.

And then how would it have been to have to witness his brutal death? Someone who could do what no other person on earth could do, still ended up dying in the end. I cannot imagine the grief of those who cared for Jesus watch him die on that cross. On that Friday, everything on earth grieved. Numerous accounts of storms and darkness covered the earth, along with covering the hearts of those who just witnessed the death of someone they loved.

Though I cannot imagine the grief of those who walked with Jesus, it does bring up the emotions I felt as I watched my own Dad pass away. That was my own personal dark Friday. To watch someone you look up to, admire, succumb to the mortal element of death makes the whole world stop. Time seems to stand still, and you are certain you will never be whole again. How could you? A giant part of your life is now gone.

Today I've been pondering about that Saturday, back in the time of Jesus. The day after He passed. We don't have much about that agonizing 48 hours, because in hindsight, the miracle was just around the corner. But what about that day? What did those who loved Jesus do? Certainly, time continued to stand still. The shock still fresh, denial still eminent. Not Jesus, the Son of God. Not the man who raised others from the dead, who healed the blind and leprous. Not the man who's time on earth was too short. He had so much more to offer to this world, didn't he? How could He be gone?

I can remember my own Saturday like that. The hollowness of realizing that person is really, truly gone from this life. They say the veil is thin, but on days like that Saturday, it feels like a brick wall.

Yet unlike those who witnessed Jesus' death and did not yet know He would rise again, I luckily had that knowledge while going through my own Saturday. Sometimes it was hard to grab a hold of that knowledge, because the grief consumes you and the pain takes over every part of your body. You cannot cry enough tears, you cannot completely express how shattered you are inside.

But even though that Saturday was so dark, and has been so dark for so many, we have Sunday. Sunday did come, and the Savior did rise again. And because He did, all will. And we can be with those we love again.

The Savior understands those shocking Fridays, and those dark Saturdays that follow. He chose to walk through life, knowing how His mission would end, so that He could be there for each one of us. He is there even when the fog of grief and pain are so thick you think you are completely alone. Sometimes it is not until you can look back that you see He was there. Through a friend, or a note, or a phone call, or just the fact that you were able to get out of bed and go through another day.

Sunday did come, and because Sunday came, we can all find peace and joy, even when the dark Saturdays come and we wonder if we will ever feel happy again.

How grateful I am that Sunday came.

Inspiration for this post came from the talk I read this morning called Sunday Will Come by Elder Joseph  B. Wirthlin.

Post #3: The Gift of Therapy

Though anxiety is still something that I have to constantly keep myself in check with, I wouldn't have the ability to be where I am if it wasn't for therapy.

There's such a stigma surrounding therapy and counseling, and I hope that posting about it will help someone who is wondering if it's right for them to realize YES. It is right for you. Therapy is right for everyone. I mean that 100%.

The first time I saw a counselor happened while I was still in college, and it was my first bout with crippling anxiety. You know, the kind where I could barely eat, and almost every second of every day was filled with horrible worst-case-scenario thoughts and I felt like I was drowning. Luckily, I had a roommate who was getting her masters in counseling and she convinced me to give it a chance.

It wasn't easy. I kept it a secret from everyone but her, including my family. I didn't tell them for a couple years that I had seen a counselor. For some reason, seeing a counselor made me feel like other people would judge me and think I was actually insane, or think I was overreacting and should just try harder on my own.

The second time I saw a counselor, I took longer to get up the courage to do it. Hadn't I already done this years ago? Why couldn't what I learned about how to talk myself through my anxiety stick? Why was I struggling so much again that functioning daily was almost too much to bear? Why wasn't I able to have more faith and pray harder that I would feel better on my own? What would people think of me this time, knowing this is my second round?

There seems to be a lot of shame surrounding the idea of seeing a therapist, especially if you are still a functioning member of society. We tend to think therapy is for those who are on the brink (or already experienced) a mental breakdown. And though that is grounds to see someone, if you feel stuck, therapy is an option I don't think you will regret trying.

Therapy is hard work. It only works if you do. Sounds easy, but it's not. It's weird, because it's actually reliving to spill all your thoughts to a third party who is not associated with you in your daily life. It can seem scary and weird to talk to someone you don't know about really personal thoughts, perhaps ones you have never had the courage to voice out loud. You might think your therapist will look at you with a skeptical expression and tell you "You're wasting my time. Your problems are stupid. Don't come back."

I've had all of those thoughts. I was sure even this second time around I would be told what was bothering me so much in my life wouldn't be a valid reason for therapy. But if your therapist does what any therapist should do, they help you feel safe and help you know you can feel better. I promise you, your problems matter. And if your problems are holding you back, talk to someone about it.

It's so, so tiring having thoughts banging around in your head. Thoughts that weigh too much for you to bear. Thoughts you are terrified of speaking out loud because you swear you'll sound crazy, or lazy, or selfish, etc. Thoughts can seem too powerful to overcome. The catch is they lose their weight and credibility when they are spoken out loud. Therapy is a safe place to do that.

I knew I was to the point of needing to see a counselor again when I realized the powerful, anxious thoughts were keeping me from praying to Heavenly Father. I was terrified of what His answers would be to the issues bothering me. Ridiculous, right?  Somewhere along the way I had forgotten how to trust Him, and myself.

Choosing to go to therapy again was one of the best decisions I made concerning my mental health. It was hard. Therapy isn't easy. Yes, it's wonderful to be able to voice your thoughts and concerns out loud, but you have to be willing to be completely vulnerable. You have to be able to admit things about yourself you might not want to. But I promise you, therapy is a place that is free of judgment. Therapists don't give you the answers, they help you find the answers within yourself. It's emotionally draining, but sometimes you have to be completely drained before you can begin to fill up with strength and a sense of your true self again.

Therapy does not mean you've given up, or are weak. It's the opposite. The Atonement is always enough, but the Atonement works in many different ways. Therapy is one of the ways you can open up your heart to let the Savior heal you again. And you can be healed. We will always be able to be healed again.

And again.

And again.

So if you are on the fence, wondering if seeing a counselor is something you should look into but you are too afraid or ashamed, don't be. Pray about it, and message me and I'll stand by you. :)

Therapy has helped me realize that even when I am on the rock bottom of feeling down, I am still standing on a solid foundation of Christ. Descending down into the depths of emotional trauma and trials can be excruciating and exhausting. But we don't have to do it alone. The Savior is always, always there. He is at the bottom with us, and He is helping us as we crawl back up. We are never completely alone or without answers.

Please remember that.

Post #2: The Power of Anger

This month is a weird month for me. It's become the "Dad" month for me. His birthday is on the 8th, and the 23rd is when he had his heart attack and spent the last week of the month in a medically induced coma, our family getting the news that his brain activity was too low for him to live a normal life if he woke up, and us feeling like the best choice for him would be to let him go.

All of that starts swirling around inside of me come February. The weather plays a factor, and just life does. Last year was the first anniversary of his death, and the pain was so fresh it felt like everything had just happened. But along with the pain last year, there was an agonizing amount of anger that consumed me. 

Hence the title of this post.

Grieving is a weird, super personal process. It is different for everyone. I still am not sure about how I grieve, because each instance that causes grief is different. It is a lifelong process. I am still figuring myself out, and still don't know how I will feel in the next hour, or the next day, or the next year. It is always changing. 

I do know that feeling anger was a part of my grieving process. A big part, even though I didn't welcome it or like it. 

About ten days before my Dad passed away, Paul was suddenly laid off his job. It was a huge blow to us in many ways. And then to have Dad die brought on so much pain I didn't know what to do. To say I was furious with Heavenly Father would be an understatement. 

I remember sitting on my bed one night, a few weeks after Dad passed. Lauren was whining about something and I told Paul I just needed a break. He didn't question and took over while I retreated to our room. As I sat, I remember "praying" to Heavenly Father. More like, I was yelling at him inside my head. I remember clenching my fists as hard as I could, feeling the anger course through me, but feeling like I couldn't express just how furious I really was with Him. 

"THIS ISN'T FAIR. ALL OF THIS IS RIDICULOUS. HOW COULD YOU DO BOTH OF THESE AT THE SAME TIME TO ME? HOW?" I screamed those questions at Him over and over again. I didn't feel any love from Him. I felt like He did those things without caring about my feelings. I remember wondering, "What does it matter if I have faith? You'll just do what you want. My feelings don't really matter, do they? Sure, someday you'll explain and it will make sense, but that's not now. Not here. I have to live with this darkness YOU threw on me hoping it would make me come to you. Well guess what, I don't want to. Not at all."

Some of you reading this might think I was being childish, and maybe I was. But I was really, deeply hurt. Grief is it's own animal, and I was suddenly thrown into the pit of grieving over two very huge life-changing experiences. At the same time. I didn't know what to do. The advice to turn to the Savior fell hollow on my ears. 

"It's His fault I'm in this mess." Is what I told myself over and over again, letting the anger run through me. "I'm not ready to feel any sort of peace about this. Peace means I accept it, and I'm OK with it. And I am definitely NOT OK with it."

I still went to church, I still did my callings, I still said prayers, though they were hollow and without feeling. I went through the motions because I was a walking zombie of pain. Looking back, I really don't remember much about the first six months after my Dad passed. I think I started to come out of the fog when Paul got a new job and we prepared to move. I started to breath a bit easier and feel a bit more like myself again. At least one giant burden was gone, but now I only had the one I really could do nothing about--processing Dad's death. 

Things were up and down after we moved, the first anniversary of his death coming and going and once again I felt stuck. The anger had ebbed some, I didn't feel so furious and felt like my relationship with Heavenly Father was healing a little bit, but I still had resentment. And I worried He resented me. I was weighed down, but I didn't know how to get through it.

This is where I started to see a counselor. 

Therapy did wonders for me, and I plan to get more into that in another post. What I want to focus on is what I learned about anger during those sessions.

We all have primary emotions. Joy, fear, and sadness are the most common primary emotions. Anger has also been included in those primary emotions, but there is conflicting research. Anger is usually a mask to one of the primary emotions. Anger is something we can funnel energy into. It can be a distraction from feeling the depth of another emotion. 

I latched on to anger because I didn't want to let myself feel the devastating sadness of my Dad's passing. To give you a visual picture, it looked like sadness was a never ending dark hole.

"You have to get to the bottom of an emotion before you can move on," my therapist said. "It's uncomfortable and can be draining, but it can be done. It's uncomfortable and that is why most people don't do it. That's why they latch onto anger, because they don't want to get to the bottom and really heal."

I was so tired of feeling anger. It was draining in it's own way. 

"But how can I really go down that dark hole by myself?" I remember asking her. 

"You won't be alone when you go down there," she said simply. "Someone already paid the price to be able to go with you. Someone who descended below them all."

It was the beginning of healing for me. I could actually sense the Savior was right there, ready to go down with me.

"I'm scared to go down there. It looks dark, and painful, and I don't see the bottom. Will you please go with me?" I pleaded in my prayers. 

As I started to let go of the anger and let myself feel all the feelings that come with grieving, I can testify that I was not alone in those deep, sometimes excruciating feelings. 

How amazing is that sort of love, that after over a year of me yelling and screaming and being mad, I never had those feelings returned? That the moment I asked Him to be with me, He was with me. Actually, I never even had to ask. He was always there.  

Though the anger is gone for me when I think about my Dad, the grieving is still ongoing, and as I go through all the emotions that come with it, I am better at letting them come. Some days I am extremely sad. Others, I am at peace and happy. But no matter what, I am not alone.

So here is what I want to end with today. If you are angry about something, and know it is consuming you, but are afraid to let go of it, go to the one person who can be there with you as you start to let go. It's scary to let go, because knowing that you could experience something that is so devastating that it could rip you apart is frightening. As you feel ripped apart and stretched beyond your limit, remember who the Master Healer is. He is the only one who can heal all wounds, all scars. All of it. 

Post #1: The White Stocking, or Where It All Began

There's a tradition in my family on Christmas Eve. Up along the mantle with all our stockings, there was also always a white stocking. Someone gave it as a gift years ago, and it's meaning and activity have become a part of our holiday traditions.

 On Christmas Eve, after all our musical programs and nativity acting out, Mom would read the following:

It wasn't that anyone had really been forgotten. No children had been slighted or made unhappy and no adult had been left unremembered. The presents had all been distributed and all the stockings were beautifully filled--all except one; one stocking that had never been hung. It was the stocking intended for the child of Bethlehem. Of all the people belonging at the Christmas gathering, only He had been forgotten. Only He had been left out of all the festivities. This didn't seem quite right, inasmuch as it was His birthday that was being celebrated. 

We would then each write on a tiny piece of paper a goal for the following year that would draw us closer to Christ, and place it in the stocking. We would then pull out those papers next Christmas and see if we did what we set out to do.

The last time I was at my parents' house for Christmas was 2014. My goal was this:

I remember writing this, because I remember how I felt while I wrote it. It was a small, quick, vague way of me trying to tell myself that everything was going to be OK.

Now, 2014 was--on the outside--a joyous year for me and my family. We welcomed our little Lauren in February of that year. She was healthy, developing like she should, and we were doing everything that should bring us joy. And there were joyous times. Lauren brought a new love to our home we didn't know existed. Her spirit filled our hearts and our home.  So why was I struggling so much on the inside? Weren't things good?

 2015 was going to be a better year. An easier year. I was close--2 months away--from Lauren's first birthday. A major milestone. I would have survived the first year and looked back and thought "All right, it really wasn't that bad, was it?"

Yes. There was so much good. But there was also so much going on inside of me that left me feeling dark and alone.

See, I wrote this goal to have faith over fear because I was in a constant state of fear. For the past year and a half, I was in the throes of anxiety and postpartum anxiety.  And I didn't know it.

I've had bouts with anxiety before, mostly in college, but counseling helped and I thought I was all good. I thought I had learned what I needed and that it was just a fluke and I wasn't going to experience those feelings again. But as soon as I found out I was pregnant in the summer of 2013 (and it wasn't a surprise, we had talked about it), the thoughts came racing back.

All the time. Every day.

There was always something to worry about. To obsess over.

I don't know if I cooked my lunch meat long enough, am I going to miscarry? I forgot to take my pre-natal vitamin this morning. Is my baby going to have some weird birth defect because of it? I have a pain in my right side. Am I having an ectopic pregnancy? Should I go to the emergency room just to check? I feel nauseous all the time, will I be able to keep anything down? Will I starve myself and the baby? Will I end up in the hospital because I'm so dehydrated? Will I be sick the whole 9 months? Am I going to be able to make it to the bathroom in time to puke or will I puke all over my desk at work?

On and on they went.
All day. Every day.

Did anyone have any idea how consuming those thoughts were? No, not even Paul. He knew I was nervous, but I believed, just like everyone else did, that it was normal to be that stressed all the time. We were new to this parent thing, for crying out loud! We didn't know what we were doing!

I didn't realize there was a difference. That the tight feeling in my chest wasn't normal. That sleepless nights because of the thoughts wasn't normal. That I was showing all the signs of being in the middle of anxiety.

I was--and still am--, considered to be a person with high functioning anxiety. I didn't lock myself away in my room during my pregnancy. I went to work. I grocery shopped. I worked out. I socialized. I smiled. I laughed. I did everything normal people do, but inside I was drowning. I didn't "look" stressed (whatever that means), I was consumed by it, but kept it hidden, because I was sure if I told everyone all the thoughts that raced through my mind in a mere 10 minutes, I would be patted on the arm and told "There, there. It's just because you're new to this. It will all be fine. You'll see."

The problem with anxiety is that it robs me of faith. Anxiety grabs a hold of my brain and spits out all these scenarios that come to my mind over and over again and that somehow convince me they are very real and very probable. And the whole concept of faith becomes absurd.

Anxiety not only brings on the worst-case scenario thoughts, it also brings on a sense of doom. In my case (it may vary, I can only vouch for myself), I began to feel like Heavenly Father didn't care about what I wanted. He was going to do what He saw best. We are taught that, right? There is always a higher power. His thoughts are not our thoughts. His ways are not our ways. We need to trust Him, no matter what.

I began to believe that He would take away this pregnancy from me. I had friends who experienced miscarriages and still births. Why would I be saved from any of that heartache? Why did I deserve a healthy baby? I was no better than anyone else. My self-worth was at an all time low. I believed that Heavenly Father had His own agenda, and was going to do whatever He thought was best, and that I was sure it was going to be something tragic. Something that I should have prepared myself for. I should have considered the possibility that something bad could happen. I convinced myself that if I didn't expect the worst, I was being naive and deserved something bad because I needed to remember that life is about trials, not joy.

I really, honestly believed all of that. For a very long time.

So, that tiny piece of paper was written 10 months after Lauren was born. Did the anxiety stop once she was born? Heavens no. It then became postpartum anxiety, which I will cover another time (since this post is already so long, and I am actually quite drained writing it.)

But I want to end this post with this--though I felt overwhelmed, and forgotten, useless, and many more negative things, I still had a tiny bit of hope in me. I had hope because after Lauren's first eight months of life, I was starting to feel like myself again. I wasn't worrying as much. I was able to breathe a bit easier. I was able to sleep better. Feel more joy than fear. And because the anxiety was starting to fade, I had hope that I could feel connected to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ again. Somehow, in the midst of all this new parenting stuff, I felt forgotten. I felt like I had to do everything on my own. I felt like it was expected of me. A requirement. I had forgotten what it means to really have Christ as a companion.

So I was going to make 2015 the year where I built my relationship with Christ again. I was going to ask Him to be a part of my life again. To help me feel like myself again. And I remember feeling in my heart as I wrote down my goal on that piece of paper and dropped it in the stocking, that He was aware of me. He was going to help me. I felt it so strongly. 2015 was going to bring me closer to Him, it was going to be a year of building.

When I look back on that pregnancy, I do remember the dark times, but I now also see how I mattered to Him. I've never not mattered to Him, even when I felt like I am a million miles away from Him. I guess that's what I really want someone to take away from this post. Hope. And the opportunity for you to remember that if you are in a dark place right now, or on the verge of one, or just coming out of one, or just wondering-

You. Matter. To. Him.

A New Year, A New Project

I keep getting this nagging feeling I need to come back and blog.

It's going to be a new year in a couple weeks, so what better time to take on a new project, right?

Except I know I can't go back to blogging how I used to. Reading through the past posts on here feel like another lifetime ago. So much has changed. Externally, for one, but also internally. I am not the same person I was when I posted last on here.

Which is part of  life, right? We all go through crappy times, good times, weird times, etc., and usually come out stronger. Sometimes we see the difference right away. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes it takes a really long time.

I want to blog somewhat consistently again, but I think it's going to be a little bit different. I don't see it being the whole "here's some pictures and a summary of the fun stuff we did" kind of blog anymore.

I think it's going to be a place where I lay out some things that I've learned, that are bubbling up inside of me and that are nudging me to share.

A place where I may get really personal, and that might make some people uncomfortable. No worries, I get it. I've been learning in a really raw, hard way that being vulnerable is one of the most uncomfortable things to do.

But I'm also learning the more I work at being authentic and real, the easier it gets, and the more rewarding it gets. The more real I am, the deeper my connection is with those I'm real with.

So, little blog world, I think it is time I get real with you.

How often I will post is still to be determined, but my goal is at least monthly. That's doable, right? That's twelve posts I'm committing to write this year. Twelve isn't overwhelming. I can do that.

And maybe no one will read this. Or maybe, one other person besides my mom will, and that's cool. I'm committing to doing this no matter what the outcome will be, which that in and of itself is a challenge for me. I HATE not knowing the outcome of something. I've never been the kind to have unwavering faith. (Which, hey, is probably a topic I am going to talk about in one of these posts.)

So there you have it, Tara's plan to blog it out this year. You can read if you want, or you can roll your eyes and keep scrolling, no biggie.

Here's to an interesting year!

A Jumble of Stuff

Oh hey. . yeah, I used to blog. Often. Somehow that has just slipped by the wayside. One of my new year's resolutions is to get back into blogging! (Not really, I actually hadn't thought about it until right now. But maybe I will try and stick to it. We'll see.)

So, it's obviously been months, so I'm just going to throw down a bunch of pictures and give you, dear reader, a little update as this goes along. If you continue to read this through to the very end you are either my mom, sister, or someone who is very bored and needs something to do.

Alright, let's get this going!

Back in October we decided to take a little hike during one of the last really nice days of the year. We went up some trail in the mountains that I can't remember, but it was fun. And Lauren loves being in that backpack carrier thing. And look at her gorgeous big brown eyes.

Looks like I'm jumping around a bit with these pictures. . my apologies.

We also went to Temple Square the weekend after Thanksgiving. It was PACKED but once again a pretty warm evening. Lauren did like it, but didn't like being strapped into her stroller. Pretty sure her cry echoed all around the square. She seriously has such a loud cry. Maybe this means she'll be some amazing singer. . or just continue to be a loud crier.

Right before Christmas break my high school bestie Rachel stopped by for a few minutes on her way to family. I haven't seen her in over a year and so even 5 minutes was heaven! Luckily she and her family just moved back to Utah and are a lot closer to us! Yippee! Best news ever.

And now these are pictures from my phone. . I believe this was when we did an awesome surprise party for my Mom's birthday back in the beginning of December. She really had no idea! My dad "stole her away" Friday night and stayed at a hotel nearby so that we could all arrive and set up for a little party the next day. We made her a music video to her favorite song "Allstar" that you all should go check out and give us more views on Youtube. It's called "AW Birthday video". Ha ha.

I'm trying to document when Lauren actually lets other people hold her. It's getting more and more common so that's a good thing. She is actually pretty chill with other people if she isn't tired or hungry. Plus I love Tonya's face in this picture. A classic for sure.

And blogger is being stupid and won't let me center this picture. But just more proof of her liking other people besides us now. She's letting Grandpa read to her. So cute.

 This above picture is of Broc from our ward! This was his little mission farewell party. We miss him! He was great entertainment for Lauren during sacrament meeting.


This was from one of those days we desperately needed to get out, so I took her to the mall to walk around. We ended up in Sears looking at all the Christmas trees. Great free entertainment! By the way, she totally won't wear that hat anymore. :( She's figured out out to take things off her head. So when I do put something like a headband on her, I have to distract her so that she forgets it's on her head. . it works about 40% of the time.

This is from Thanksgiving. We celebrated with Paul's family this year. It was a lot of fun. Lauren is playing with her Grandma Siddoway in this picture and I love it.

Here she is letting Uncle David and Allie entertain her at Thanksgiving. This was one of the last weeks with that walker. :( She became too tall for it and almost started tipping over as she would reach for things. I still miss that thing sometimes. . it was great entertainment for her, and for me to watch her cruise around our house in it.

This was either over the Mom birthday weekend or Christmas. . I can't remember! Lauren with her cousin Addy. They are already becoming good friends! And Addy's hair is the bomb in this picture. Lauren kept trying to grab it, I remember.

One thing Paul got me for Christmas was an eblisceiver (SP!) pan! That was our Christmas dinner growing up, and I'm glad I now have one so that my kids can have these. I made a batch New Year's Day and they turned out great!

Last one: This I snapped a few weeks ago when I was doing dishes and she was really quiet, so I went to check on her and found her "reading". So so cute.

And so there was my feeble attempt to catch up. This little lady is already 10 months old, which is insane but also SO awesome. She is in such a fun stage. She jabbers at me all day, can mimick some words we say, like "uh-oh", 'ho-ho-ho", "all gone" "night night", and "bye-bye". She waves at the door every time we get ready to go somewhere. She does Pat-a-cake and loves to "Throw it in the oven!" And keeps her hands up forever afterwards. She LOVES Baby Einstein and when she watched the Old McDonald one and they sing the song she sings "e-i-e-i-o" in her own little language, it's hilarious.

I'm trying to wean her off of baby food mostly for my sanity because she's still so picky with being spoon fed. Some days she's all for it, and others she just swats it away and it goes flying all over me and the floor. Boo. But she's really picky about textures of table food. I think it's just going to take her some getting used to for some things. She already loves most carbs and fruit and cheeses and stuff like cottage cheese and yogurt, but veggies she's not super interested in. She finally ate some peas by themselves last night and didn't just chuck them on the floor. I've been disguising her veggies in her cottage cheese, which is super GROSS but she doesn't seem to notice so I guess what works I'll do! For now. . tomorrow could be a completely different story!

Let's see. . as for a me and Paul update. . .we're right now doing a little "fitness" challenge to help us stay healthy. We made a sticker chart and the goal is to each get 60 stickers. You can earn a sticker for exercising, drinking 64 oz of water, and staying within your calorie goal on My Fitness Pal. If you do all three of those in one day, then you get a bonus sticker. The prize is a one hour massage! Right now I'm winning, but barely.

Also, I made a new resolution to get back into my hobbies this year, even if it's just for a little bit each week. I set weekly reminders to focus on one thing that week, like crocheting, painting, etc. So far I've done ok, but this is just the first week I've started. Ha.

Also, Paul and I decided to make some nights a "screen free" night, like 4 nights a week after we put Lauren to bed at 7 ish, no more screens. We have to do other stuff. So we've gotten back into puzzling and doing a lot of reading. It's really been great and I hope we can keep it up!


And that's that. Thanks Mom and Tonya for reading this to the very end. Ha ha.

Seven

This little nugget is seven months. HOLY COW.

Visiting with Great Grandma Whittier over Labor Day.

Tuna came to visit! I realize Lauren's head looks super weird in this, but she actually was pretty good with Tuna. We had fun shopping at City Creek baby free for the day. And watching the classic movie "Clue"!

This was at Paul's work party at Bookdocks. She did really well, even though she missed a nap. I think there was plenty to see so she was distracted. This is the ONE time she actually tried to hold her sippy cup and drink from it. She hasn't shown any interest since.

Me and two of my coworkers had babies within 3 months of each other, so we try and get together once a month for a play date. It's getting more fun now that our babies can actually do stuff!

International Talk Like a Pirate Day. If you dressed up and went to Krispy Creme, you got a free dozen donuts! It was awesome. Lauren didn't really care for the donuts though! Oh well, she will in years to come.

She is fascinated with rain. She'll scoot over and watch it. Or if the sprinklers are on. Free entertainment!

Same with the washing machine. It's so exciting.

Another visitor- Grandma Whittier! She brought toys and clothes and Lauren did pretty good with her too. It was so fun having her here for a few days. I loved having an adult to talk to during the day!

 Yes, she gets cuter and cuter every day. And can also throw bigger and better tantrums almost every day too. Lately she's got this thing going on where she completely arches her back when she doesn't want to do something, like go in her high chair. Poor Paul, he took an early lunch yesterday so I could go to an eye doctor appointment, and he told me as he was trying to put her in her high chair for lunch she arched her back and smacker her head against the wall. Needless to say, lunch was traumatic for him.

-She can roll anywhere she wants to go and can scoot around in a circle pretty good. Close to army crawling. I'm not worried. I'm trying to take advantage of these last days of her not being able to get into everything really quickly.
-At her 6 month appointment she was in the 90th for everything, which I'm not surprised about. Apparently she's roughly the size of a 10 month old. Because of that, she doesn't need to have as much formula, and now we are focusing more on solids. She likes pretty much all baby food but MAN, the novelty of eating from a spoon has worn off with her so she swats it away and a lot of times. It got to the point where I would have to turn on Baby Einstein so that she would let me feed her. I bought some reusable baby food pouches (because the ones at the store are way more expensive than jarred baby food). So now I just put her baby food in those and it is so much better! She loves it. . for now. I guess when that wears off too I'll go back to the spoon because maybe it will seem like a new thing for her? I don't know.
-She's getting a lot better at self feeding, but she's kind of picky with that stuff. I think it's a texture thing. But so far she's a fan of pancakes, bread, american cheese, hash browns, Nutrigrain bars, Ritz Crackers, Mandarin oranges, and probably some other stuff I can't think of. If you have any suggestions on other good starter finger foods, I'm all ears. I get bored feeding her this stuff sometimes. She's not a fan of eggs or avacados, or canned green beans.
-She can scoot around pretty good in her walker too. She still can't go straight forward, but pretty much every other angle she can, so she gets to where she wants to be. It's pretty hilarious.
-She goes to bed around 7 each night and sleeps for a good 12 hours without us really hearing a peep from her. This is awesome and I try to remember to be thankful each day for that! She also take a good hour ish morning nap, and an early afternoon nap and a late afternoon nap(though I really think I'm going to have to cut that one soon. . . it's getting very inconvenient.)
-No teeth yet, but there are bumps. The bumps have been there for months though so we'll see. Her hair is starting to come in, it's looking a little fluffy on top finally! I don't think she'll be a blondie. It's already looking light brown to me. Her eyes are still a darker brownish color so we'll see if that stays too.
- We're working on teaching her how to wave. I think she's getting it. . .every time I get her up from her crib she turns and waves at it! It's so cute. I don't know if she really understands what she's doing though.

She's our little munchkin, and we love her guts, even when she is grumpy and clingy.

What We Don't See

This Mormon Messages clip has been circling (guys, I just had to retype the word "circling" like 5 times until it was spelled right. That's the level my brain is functioning at right now. Gives you an idea of what I'm about to blog about) around my social media lately and I know I am not the only one who has cried tears of joy/understanding/giving THANKS to whoever was inspired to make it.
Because all of us have days, weeks, months, and years like this.

And no one sees it.

At least, there are plenty of times where I don't feel like anyone notices. It's more like, what's there to notice about my day today? A lot of times I look back and feel like I did nothing to show for it. Even though I did laundry, swept up for the hundredth time sticky baby food off the floor, wiped down my bathroom, made our bed, went grocery shopping, paid some bills, filled up the car with gas, etc. Now, don't go thinking I do all those things every day, all day. It's just stuff that I feel like I do all the time, but it's more like there's just that one more little thing to do that no one cares about, yet still feels like it needs to be done.

And that's not even tying in all the "motherly" duties that have now become just as much. Constantly changing diapers, spoon feeding food only to get it spit back out at me when she's totally over it, bouncing in my arms while looking out the window, or at anything that will distract her from crying, putting down for naps, getting up from naps, giving baths, making bottles, reading stories, picking up toys and giving them to her to be played with for 2 seconds then get dropped again, etc, etc, etc.

And no one sees it. And yet this is my day, every day. And that's how it will be for the next X amount of years.


Satan is the one who wants us to feel like nothing we do matters. He wants us to become discouraged and throw our hands up and say "WHY am I really doing this? ANY of this? Who is even benefiting from it? All I feel is tired, and burdened and don't see any end in sight."  And I will admit that there have been plenty of times when I have felt that exact way. It seems more so lately. I feel like I am the biggest critic of my mothering skills, which I know is really ridiculous because NO ONE SEES. But for some reason I feel like I fail all. the. time. Especially because no one is here every day to cheer me on and pat me on the back and say "Hey, your child is still alive and thriving, good for you!" Or "Look at you trying this technique out on her even though it didn't do anything, way to give it a try!"

I always forget that there ARE others who see what I do every day, all day. And who I should remember really are cheering me on, even though I can't see it. But I bet if I took a minute or so each day, I could feel it. And feel better.

Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are always right there with me, and with you, in whatever your day to day life is. Whether you are at work all day and don't get a second glance at the work you produced, or you are at home with kids and at your wits end from being so tired and up to your neck in things you need to get done, we are not alone.

This video reminded me of that. And the small and simple things we do each day, that we don't even give a second thought about, most likely are benefiting someone. We just don't see it.

But Heavenly Father does, and He loves us. He thanks us every day for being moms and doing our best to raise good kids, even when it feels like we are getting no where. He thanks us for doing our best at our jobs and other commitments because He knows we are trying. And that is what matters.

Half a year

I know I've been bad about keeping up this blog. . . but in all honesty, I don't know what else to put up on here besides stuff about my child. Since I now don't work, and have a kid that likes to go to bed at 7, my life isn't really that exciting anymore. It's a good life, but to me it just doesn't seem like I do enough stuff to brag about on blogger (because let's be honest, that's what most blogs are about. All the cool stuff you do).

So, I might update more sometimes, or I might not. Guess we'll see what is in store for us.  . . . which right now isn't much!

Anyways, here's stuff about Lauren. Because really that's all people want to know about anyways.

Babies change so much so fast. It's like overnight she's decided to do something totally different! She's pretty good about sitting up on her own, but I like to bring some pillows along just to help out when we're at the store. So far she's been really good about it. . she's constantly turning her head looking at everything around her. It's a whole new world for her. 

 I'm really loving the stage she is in right now. She's so smiley and laughs a lot, is easily entertained (and sometimes I catch her playing in her crib by herself and it is so cute), and is SLEEPING from like 7 p.m.- 7:30 a.m. most nights without waking up at all. IT IS GLORIOUS. And she's getting pretty good at taking an hour and a half nap in the morning, and a good one and a half to two hours in the afternoon, and sometimes another short one around 4:30 ish depending on when she woke up last. But that last nap is probably going to get cut out soon because it's very hit and miss. 

This was one of the last times she actually let me put her in the bumbo. Even then she was fussing so I just tossed her bib onto her and it seriously landed like that! It caught her by surprise and she stopped crying long enough for me to snap a picture. But really, she decided over night she hates that thing and would always arch her back and cry when I would try to put her in it. So we just use the high chair now. (I bought a travel high chair that looks like a camp chair and can fold up really easily. It's awesome.)

I don't remember why I took this picture, probably I thought it was cute how intent she was on playing with those toys in front of her.

 This lady loooooves the water. Really really loves it. Luckily Grandma and Grandpa Siddoway have a pool in their backyard in Kayesville so we have put it to good use! She right now is going through a "fun" stage of hating it when I have to pull her arms through her clothes, so she was screaming bloody murder while I put on her swimsuit but once she was actually in the water, she became a happy baby once again. She's figuring out that she can kick her legs and splash and it's really cute. And Paul and I are really really white.

 Sitting up like it's no problem at all. . . . and check out that cowlick in the back of her head! It's a perfect little swirl. It will be interesting to see how her hair grows in with that there.

Paul likes to play the game of putting things on her head and waiting until she notices that.

Snapped this while she was napping one day. Aren't sleeping babies just the cutest? And check out those cheeks.

She looks like a thug in the picture to me. Grocery shopping really wears both of us out. 

Things Lauren likes:

-looking out the window at cars

-sitting on dad's shoulders and grabbing his hair

-people clapping or snapping their fingers

-music, especially songs like "Twinkle Twinkle" and "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam" and "Popcorn Popping", and Dad's guitar music

-anything she can easily grab and put into her mouth

-FOOD! Most solids we've tried with her she's a big fan of: sweet potatoes, peas, carrots, squash, applesauce, pears, etc. Doesn't like bananas at all though.

-blowing raspberries. She is a blowing raspberry machine! It's real fun when she decides to do it while eating. NOT.

-watching you stick your tongue out at her. For some reason this fascinates her and she will just stare and stare at you while you do it over and over and over and over and over again. 

Things Lauren dislikes:

-sitting up when she's tired. 

-getting her arms pulled through her clothes

-not having something to play with while you change her diaper

-having to wait 2 minutes to have her bottle while you prepare it. You have to do it fast if she's in your arms or else she'll scream and grab at it until it is in her mouth.

-not being able to drink out of our cups at mealtimes. I give it to her when I'm done, otherwise I would have to deal with her fussing and reaching for it. She already knows to put it up to her mouth. Hopefully when it comes time to change to a sippy cup it won't be that hard?

Anyways, that's about it for now. She really is so so so much more fun now. When people ask me if I like being a mom, I try and be honest and say "I do now!" And sometimes I  get weird looks and then I explain that the first 4 months of her life were NOT fun at all and I seriously questioned my sanity multiple times a day. There are still hard times and I know more will come, but at least I am seeing some personality with her now and that makes such a difference! So those of you going through the trenches with the newborn stuff right now, it WILL get better! I promise! 

Fab 5

You know, I feel a little sheepish admitting this, but I used to be one of those people who rolled their eyes whenever I heard women say things about motherhood like "Being a mom is hard, but sooooo worth it." I would just get sick of hearing it because I obviously had no idea what they were talking about. Well, now I do. And YES, I agree a billion times with that statement now. 

But in a way I always wished that moms would get a little bit more specific about what exactly was so hard, and yet what still made it worth it. I obviously have very little experience in the motherhood area, but I do understand somewhat now. I understand what is hard for me. And I will tell you a little bit about what is hard. 

It's hard to have no clue how your day is going to go. And it's hard to be home most of the time, doing your best to keep this little human on a "schedule" and pray that they will nap in the car on your way to your destination so that you won't have to deal with them screaming while you are out in public. And then it's hard when it doesn't go how you planned at all and you just have to figure out how to deal with it in the moment. It's hard having a child who decides they don't like other people besides you and your husband and scream bloody murder when anyone else holds them, because then you don't really get a break. It's hard doing the same thing day after day after day and right when you think you've got them figured out, they grow and CHANGE and you are back at square one. It's hard going on trips because you have to pack way more stuff like diapers and wipes and oh should I bring the bouncer so she has somewhere to lay besides in my arms? What about our baby monitor so that we can hear her? Will there be a plug in the room she's sleeping so we can plug in the sound machine? What time should we leave so that we can drive while she'll nap and not have to stop and feed her somewhere? Do we have extra clothes in case she has a blow out in the car? Then it's hard going on a vacay because you JUST got your child on a decent schedule and now you are out of town doing abnormal stuff and that schedule is flying out the window and you are helping your kid take naps when there's a window of time and it's probably just going to be in your lap and you're just going to have to sit in the same spot and "visit" instead of doing stuff because if your child doesn't nap then this super lame thing called "overtiredness" occurs and your baby becomes TOO tired to sleep and just cries and then you just want to cry because it's all just SO HARD and you realize you are just flying on the seat of your pants doing this whole parent thing and are thinking if only there was a specific instruction manual for your child out there somewhere so that you could actually feel like a champ parent for more than 5 minutes, then maybe the stress would ease a little bit. *deep breath*

So yes, I'm starting to get why it's so hard. 

And thankfully, I am also getting that second part. The whole "it's so worth it" part too. That part is harder to put into words. I just look at this tiny human and there's this love you can't describe and even though it is hard and sometimes you feel like you are beyond the breaking point and have no clue what else to do, you will keep trying. You will not give up on this tiny human because of this love. And you start to get this little glimpse of the whole point of being here and why the family is central to the great plan of happiness because for some reason raising children still brings joy a midst all the hard stuff. Like, when you lay next to your child playing on the floor and she rolls to her side to face you and puts her hands on your face and gives you the biggest toothless smile anyone has ever seen and you know you are her favorite person in the world. Or when you realize she is the only person you will do absolutely ANYTHING for to get a laugh out of her, like to the point of pretending to cough/throw up because she finds that stuff hilarious. And when you go in to check on her before you go to bed and she is actually sleeping and looks like she is sleeping soundly and is all sprawled out her in crib and you can tell she's content and your heart just about bursts of love for her. That's the kind of stuff that makes it worth it. 

Ok, motherhood rant OVER for right now. Now I have to catch up on this past month. 

Little Lauren Amy is now 5 months. No longer a newborn, just a full blown baby. Grabbing at stuff and shoving it in her mouth (this includes my hair. She has a vicelike grip!) eatin' her solids like a champ. The girl loves food. I haven't really ventured much outside the oatmeal and rice cereal stuff yet. She's only tried bananas and pears so far and isn't too big a fan of the bananas, but likes the pears pretty well. We'll see what else she'll prefer.

Lauren's first trip out to the Siddoway cabin by Vernal was actually a good trip. I'm trying to remember to have super low expectation when traveling with a child so that if things actually go well, it's awesome! And if not. . well, then it's what I expected. Anyways, she had to sleep in the same room as us which I was NOT looking forward to, but she actually did pretty well. We had gotten to the point a couple weeks before this trip that we had to do the cry it out method with her because she was seriously waking up every 45 minutes night after night and I was so sick of feeling like a zombie that we just did it. And it worked like a charm! She still cries some nights, but it's never for very long and she sleeps SO MUCH BETTER. It was so SO worth it.

Anyways, the cabin trip was awesome. So relaxing. Like, I read-a-whole-book kind of relaxing. I love how quiet it is up there. And it's gorgeous. I'm glad Lauren will have that place to go visit each summer just like Paul did growing up.

 Speaking of Paul, I feel like she is looking more and more like him as she is getting older. She already has the brown eyes. And we compared pictures of him as a little kid and she is so similar.

 We also got this walker from my parents. Pretty sure it is at least 20 years old, but it has stood the test of time! She's not cruising around in it yet, but she does push herself backwards in it and enjoys it when she's not tired. I can tell she's done with it when she starts to fuss and just lean really far forward. It's kind of funny.

 This was what I found when I went in to check on her after a cry-it-out session happened during naptime one day. Looks so comfy. . . .

She might be a gymnast some day.

A few more things about her-

I've almost got her completely weaned off of me. After weighing all the pros and cons, it in the end came down to my sanity and I decided that formula was the way to go with her now. She doesn't fight the bottle, I don't have all this pressure on trying to figure out what I ate that she didn't like and overall it's just going better. 

She's rolling to her sides and is really close to rolling over, just hasn't quite done it yet. And she's scooting around a lot more when she's on her tummy towards things she wants to grab. She likes to laugh when we do dumb things. She's like me-loves to be entertained by weird stuff. She's already outgrown her 6-9 month clothes and is now in 9-12 month stuff. Her head is still giant and her poop is now a lot more gross to me that she is eating solids. Less blowouts, but nastier stuff. If she poops while Paul is home I always make him change her. Ha ha. Unfortunately that's not often. He needs his share if you ask me. 

And there you have it. Another month come and gone. 

In Memoriam

I don't know if I will actually be able to put into words the emotions I have been feeling this past week, but I want to try. 

Emma became a good friend of mine our senior year of high school. I have memories of playing card games and watching movies in her basement multiple times. I have memories of having good heart to heart talks in her car late into the night. Mostly about boys, but also about life. I loved those talks because afterwards I always felt better. Emma had a way of making people feel better. 

As I have been reflecting on all the memories I do have of her, I do not have a single bad one. I don't recall her ever saying mean things about anyone. Ever. She was not that kind of person. Perhaps that's another reason why I loved being her friend- she was someone I looked up to and wanted to be like. 

To try and put into words the grief and heartache I felt when I was told of her passing is not possible. All I felt was numb shock. Not Emma, who was  pregnant with her second child. Not Emma, who still kept in touch with me via our own personal blogs and other forms of social media because she lived across the country. Not Emma, who was one of the most Christ-like people I have ever known. Why her? Why right now? 

That was my reaction. 

I cannot even begin to imagine the grief and pain her husband and family members are experiencing right now. All I know is my own grief. It has been hard to accept that she really is no longer on this earth. 

But what is so amazing about having the knowledge of the gospel in my life is while I am still grieving, I have peace. I know that Emma is already doing marvelous work on the other side. Heavenly Father needed her to come back. Just as she served so many people here during her life, she is now serving so many more beyond the veil. I don't doubt that for a second.

Her funeral was a beautiful service. I am so glad I was able to attend and honor the life she did live here on earth. And I am so glad that she was part of my life. She always will be. 

I know this is not goodbye. 

How grateful I am for the Atonement at a time like this. Jesus Christ knows the pain of grieving for someone who has died. He grieved for his friend Lazarus, even though he had the power to raise him from the dead. Jesus Christ has felt that pain. And because he has, he is the one we can turn to because he DOES understand. And he CAN make us stronger. He wants to make us stronger.

I have a testimony of that. 

I love you Emma. I am looking forward to the day that I can see you again. 

It's been a month

Yes, yes, I know. It's been a MONTH since I last blogged. In all honesty, I have had ZERO desire to blog for the past 4 weeks. For some reason this past month was hard. Hard, hard HARD.

I usually try and be honest and lay everything out on this blog, but I don't really feel like going into details about this past month. Let's just say that I tried to get her on a better schedule but that didn't work. And she got some sort of minor illness which resulted in a few weeks worth of pretty sleepless nights for us. AND I think she might be more sensitive to dairy than I originally thought so I am now trying for the next month to be completely dairy free. ( I MISS MY CHEESE! *sniff*)

Anyways, the sleepless nights made the past few weeks seem kind of foggy, but I did still manage to take some pictures of the good times so here you go.


First off, I had a birthday! Paul treated me to a pedicure so I had a wonderful relaxing hour all to myself. It was GLORIOUS. That was pretty much the only thing I did differently that day. I made my own birthday cake, which was actually a dessert I grew up with creatively called "Pudding and Cake". It's basically angel food cake ripped up into chunks and mixed with pudding. It may sound and look gross, but it is GOOOOD.

Pretty sure this was taken the next day, or week. . .I can't remember when. But we were just watching some tv and hanging out with Lauren and we thought she had just tooted, but then I looked over and saw this river of poo going down the side of Paul's pants. HIl-AR-IOUS. She didn't even bat an eye.

Our carpet is now very clean in that one spot.

We also went up to Idaho for our last official Whittier reunion. *sniff*. It was fun! Except that it decided to RAIN the one whole day we were up there. We stayed at the West Piney Girls' Camp. Luckily they had a big lodge so we didn't feel all crammed in there, but it got kind of old hearing the constant loud noise of kids running around and shouting and crying. Lauren helped us snag the best room out of the whole place though. Thanks to her loud cry, we were given the only room on the ground floor, complete with our own bathroom! She actually did pretty good while we were there. I'm not used to sharing a room with her though so every noise she made I feel like it woke me up!  Here's a couple pictures our cousin took of us while we were up there.

She did seem really happy to be back home though! Except that's when the awful sleepless nights for us started. There were a few nights in a row where she would wake up every 45 minutes just wanting her pacifier. SO ANNOYING. But that's when I wondered if she was actually sick because this happened out of nowhere and she's usually a pretty good sleeper. She also started sounding really raspy, like an old lady so I think she had some fluid back by her ears, which made her want to suck on her binky to help with that. She also started to have some bloody diapers and that's what made me realize maybe dairy isn't agreeing with her right now. So I've cut it out completely and will see how this month goes. Luckily it hasn't been to hard. But if that doesn't do anything for her I think I'll just go through bottle boot camp with her and switch to formula because I don't have the patience to try and cut out something else to see if that helps. I may be a bad mom for thinking that, but I do need my sanity in order to function. She used to be awesome at taking a bottle, but then suddenly one day just stopped and refused it. I got tired of fighting with her so I just gave up, but I know I'll need her to take it again. Any advice on what to do? I'm thinking it might come to the point of just making that her only option and eventually she'll take it because she'll be so hungry. That sounds awful though. But changing my diet even more sounds worse to me and she isn't a dream eater anyways so I can see myself switching to it eventually anyways.

There's a little mobile on her play mat that she loves and one day it fell down and landed like this at the top of her head. Looks like a real neat hat.

We took her swimming in Grandma and Grandpa Siddoway's pool and she really liked it! Well, she didn't cry at all the whole time, just looked around and really liked sucking on a pool ring toy. Both of them might not look too happy in this picture, but it went really well! 

This is what happens when I'm not in the room with these two. Shenanigans like this ensue.

One night I swaddled Paul. He said it was actually quite comfy. I could see myself feeling claustrophobic though.

We FINALLY got a "new" couch and loveseat! Our friend from Logan was moving and sold them to us for a good deal. I didn't want to buy anything brand new since we now have a child and I know that stuff is going to get on them, but I was so sick of the other crappy ones we had that were really, really hard to get out of (even though they were comfy) when you are holding a child with both arms. So this was a perfect solution.

Chillin' in the bumbo, or "bimbo" as my Mom thought it was called! Ha ha.

This is also a new thing she likes to do-put her foot up against the wall while I change her diaper. I think she's realizing she has feet because she touches a lot of stuff with them now and looks at them all curious like "Hey. . . .I think you are a part of my body. . . let's try this."

That's it for now! She's as chunky as ever, now in 6-9 month clothing. I take her into the doctor tomorrow for her 4 month check up and shots so we'll see what percentile she's in now! I'm thinking still 90's for most of it. We shall see. And then it's heading up to Idaho Falls for the 4th of July. YAY!