My Turning Point

In my last health post, Coming Clean, I mentioned that I have relapsed so many times.  Two years ago, my friend Natalie and I were working very hard to lose weight and to get into shape.  I lost nearly 30 pounds in a matter of a few months.  That summer, I hadn't worked out a solution of how I was going to handle having my son home all summer and exercise, and so I didn't.  That fall I ran my first 5K with my brother and sister-in-law.  It was a very emotional experience, and one that I will always treasure.  They ran for me and with me that race.  It was my "Biggest Loser" moment.

The moment didn't last.  I fell back into my habits, and within a year and a half, I gained all of my weight back plus some.  I yo-yo-ed up and down: counting my calories, running sometimes, and then relapsing back into old habits of eating and eating.  I used becoming Parent Council president (aka PTO President) and having a newborn unexpectedly as excuses to why I was gaining weight. I was so focused on controlling those new aspects in my life that my health fell apart.

I was not happy with the way things were going, and I was starting to resign myself to the fact that I'll probably be big my whole life.  I'll probably yo-yo my whole life.  But did I want that?  NO! I have seen the long-term health effects in my family, and I don't want that.  I want to be healthy and strong.  I don't want 50 to feel like 70.  I don't want 40 to feel like 50.  I knew I had to change, and this fall, I began praying fervently again for that courage and self-control. 

In the fall, I began reading the Miracle of Forgiveness by Spencer W. Kimball.  (You really have to start that book, put it down, and then start again because it is intense.)  In one of the chapters,  President Kimball talks about quitting bad habits and overcoming serious sins (i.e., sexual transgression, pornography, etc.), and since I have never struggled with those issues, I applied it to my own life.  A  couple of passages struck me with such force that I knew I had to finally change for good -- make it stick, and never look back.

The first passage is the one I quoted in my first post:
 

“The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.”  ~Plato

I was letting my body conquer my spirit.  I was tired of giving in to my cravings and caving by binging on sweets and putting awful things into my body.

The second passage taught me that if I want to live with my Father in Heaven again, then I need to find a way to conquer myself.  If I don't, I'm not worthy to be with him again.

"It is imperative that when one has once put his feet on the path to recovery and mastery there must be no turning back. 'No man,' said the Savior, 'having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.'" 

I couldn't use weakness as an excuse anymore. There is no more turning back.  Each time I do, it gets harder.  It was time I made a conscious decision and stuck with it.

The entire point of coming to earth is learning to mesh our spirits with our body.  By combining our spiritual strengths and our physical senses to become perfect beings just as God is.  We can not be whole just as spiritual or temporal beings; two must become one.

I began researching and digging more into blogs and websites with healthy foods and habits.  I needed to find a way to overcome my addiction.  I decided that I needed to read and study the 12-Step Addiction Recovery Program published by the LDS Church (which is adapted from the AA program, by the way).  The first step is "Honesty," and I was just beginning embrace where I was in my life and that I needed to change.

I found a support group and a challenge through The Gracious Pantry.  The author, Tiffany, hosts a No-Sugar Challenge, and I read and studied it.  It was exactly what I needed.  I joined her group on Facebook, and I have now been sugar-free for 30 days!!!  Technically, the challenge is over, but I must keep on my journey, and I will explain more in another post.

For now, you need to know that my life has changed, and I hope to keep on this turning point and never turn back.  I have lost 11 pounds this month mainly from watching what I'm eating.  My family in general is eating better.  And if you wonder, no, I did not eat, lick, or even sample Jackson's birthday cake; and even better, he knew I wouldn't, and he has been one of my biggest supporters through it all.

Today I celebrated and got my hair done since I don't eat cakes, donuts, or candy, I couldn't use food as an incentive.  Instead, I did something for myself.  I love the new style, and I'm happy.  Here's the 11-pound lighter me:

Next up:  True Change and Opposition

Coming Clean

“The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.”  ~Plato

I have started writing this post several times over the last month, erased my thoughts, and started over again.  When we write about something so very personal, it can be really hard to expose ourselves. This is a serious issue for me, and one that will have life long effects, and one I hope to change.

The past few months I've been reading some books that have made me take a good, hard look into my life and into who I am and what makes me tick.  I realized that I have a big problem with self-control.  I also realized that this is a personality trait that I inherited.  It's obvious it runs in my family, but it affects my siblings and me in different ways.  For me, I tend to yell a lot at my kids and overreact.  It seems I have a short temper. You'd think I'm hormonal or something. . .oh, wait. . .

I'm not sure when I realized it because the recognition has been blooming for quite some time, but this year I finally accepted that I have a sugar addiction.  When I thought about my self-control issues, the sugar addiction no longer seemed unexplained.  Before you dismiss that this is just a silly addiction or laugh about it, let's talk about what an addiction is. 

ad·dic·tion

noun \ə-ˈdik-shən\   (Medical Dictionary)

Medical Definition of ADDICTION

: compulsive physiological need for and use of a habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal; broadly : persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to be physically, psychologically, or socially harmful—compare habituation  

(source: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/addiction)

What words stand out to you?  Compulsive? Physiological need? Persistent use?

Let's be honest.  When we think of addictions, we can usually point out the obvious ones that plague our society:  drugs, alcohol, pornography, hoarding (don't think it's real -- just watch one episode of "Hoarders" -- it's real all right!), shopping, over-eating, anorexia, video games, and many others.  I would say I was addicted to over-eating, but I knew it was more than that.

Lest you tell me something dismissive like, "Oh, I can't say 'no' to sugar either," or "You should just limit yourself to one treat a week," or "Sugar isn't all bad, you're just following a fad," let me share some addictive behaviors with you and what mine have been.  Most of these come from a couple of websites including this one: http://www.indiana.edu/~engs/hints/addictiveb.html  and this one: http://www.erikbohlin.net/Handouts/personality_traits_of_addiction.htm

• They will seek it out, or engage in the behavior even though it is causing harm.  I have been substantially overweight for over 10 years.  I remember when the doctor told me that I was "obese" over 8 years ago.  You tell me that isn't hard hard to hear.  I knew that what I was eating wasn't good, but when I was stressed out, I bought cookies, snack cakes, or candy bars to relieve it.
• The person will compulsively engage in the activity, that is, do the activity over and over even if he/she does not want to and find it difficult to stop.  I would find myself eating the leftovers from my kids or grabbing handfuls of cookies, candy, or chocolate chips just because it was a habit.  I'd find myself in the pantry or fridge and wonder what I was doing.
• The person does not appear to have control as to when, how long, or how much he or she will continue the behavior (loss of control). (They drink 6 beers when they only wanted one, buy 8 pairs of shoes when they only needed a belt, ate the whole box of cookies, etc).  Uh, easy:  That box of Little Debbie Snack cakes was usually gone before I got home from the grocery store.  Cookies never lasted more than a day or two; candy bars didn't stand a chance.
  
• He/she often denies problems resulting from his/her engagement in the behavior, even though others can see the negative effects. Minimizing—is the coping mechanism of acknowledging something, but making it “not that big of a thing.”  They often feel that people are making “a mountain out of a mole hill.”  I would tell my friends and family that I could stop at any moment.  I just needed to exercise more.  I really didn't eat that much or that badly.
• Person hides the behavior after family or close friends have mentioned their concern. (hides food under beds, alcohol bottles in closets, doesn't show spouse credit card bills, etc).  That box of Little Debbie snack cakes was usually thrown away in the outside trash where my husband couldn't find it or buried in the bottom of the kitchen trash can.  The box of Girl Scout cookies that I saved for myself was hidden in my dress drawer.  I knew how to eat right in front of others by ordering salads or low fat meals to make it look like I was getting a handle on my diet.
• Individuals with addictive behaviors often have low self esteem, feel anxious if they do not have control over their environment, and come from psychologically or physically abusive families. This one is a little more difficult to talk about.  I don't think I've completely loved all of myself ever since I was. . . well, ever.  My greatest weakness is comparing myself to others.  When I was a little girl, I wanted to be my friends because then maybe my brothers wouldn't pick on me.  When I was older, I wanted to be the girl across town because she won all of the contests and all of the boys liked her.  When I was in college, I decided that I couldn't compete with BYU students, and so I just did minimal activities in college.  As an adult, well, we all know that this could go a million angles.  Basically, though, the absolute hardest part is the control:  I have struggled knowing how to be a parent of a child with high-functioning autism and being the perfect adoptive parent.  Most of you have heard my struggles with homework or other scenarios with Jackson.  When I would lose control, I immediately would yell and then grab something high in calories to eat and take away the stress.  As for the abuse part, well, I can't say that I came from an abusive home, so please don't think that I mean that in any way.
• Self Medication—The person uses the substance to fix situations and feel better.  Mistakenly, they believe that they are only using it for social reasons or pain management, but in fact it is “helping” them cope with life.  I remember a month or so ago when I actually felt the trigger.  I could feel it go off, telling me that the only way to fix the issue at hand was food.  I couldn't believe it.  I knew then that it was more than just habit or eating for "fun."
  
• Quick Fix Mentality—Addicts are used to “fixing” their uncomfortable feelings with their addiction. As a result, they expect change to happen fast and have difficulty waiting for things or progress over time. That is one of the reasons relapse is so common is that they are unable to withstand the painful/ uncomfortable feelings that occur with withdrawal.   I can not tell you how many times I have "relapsed."  This is why I'm grateful for the "No-Sugar Challenge" I found online to help break my addiction.  I will talk more about this in a later blog post.
• Upon cessation of the activity, withdrawal symptoms often occur.  These can include irritability, craving, restlessness or depression. Yet another blog post to come.  Yes, I have had withdrawals and cravings more than I realized I would.
• Anger—If there is a feeling that is expressed, it is usually anger.  Not having their substance makes them irritable and angry.  This definitely was one of my first withdrawal symptoms.
  

 I'm not writing all of this to fish for compliments or for you to tell me that I'm not really all that bad.  I don't believe I am a horrible person, but I do believe that I have a serious addiction that I am determined to change.  Please don't dismiss this by trying to "disprove" one of the things I've written (i.e., "You're really not fat, LeMira" or "We've all done that.").  One of the first steps to recovery is honesty, and I'm laying it out in the open.  This is one of the hardest things for me to do.  

I will write more about this experience as time goes on, but I knew I needed to get the first post out there, which has been the hardest to write.  

Up next:  My Turning Point: what made me realize that I had to change for good.

Menu Board

Ever make something for someone else that you just love and could keep for yourself?  Yep, I made something for my brother-in-law and sister-in-law for Christmas this year that turned out so well.

When my sister-in-law told me that she thought some sort of menu planning "thing" would be good,  I started researching menu boards, and apparently, I totally missed the Pinterest fad last year when everyone was making them.  I guess that's what I get for growing up in a place where we always caught onto the trends a year later.  ;)

Anyway, I love this gift, and so I'm going to show you how I made mine.

Materials you'll need

plywood or painter's canvas
jigsaw (if using wood)
fabric
12x9 metal sheet from The Home Depot
nails
hammer
scrapbook paper
ribbon
flat glass marbles
magnets
stickers
staple gun
Modge Podge (or in my case the homemade version which is one part glue -Elmer's white glue works well- to half part water)
hot glue gun
picture hanger

First, you need some sort of base.  Many of the boards I saw either used a cookie sheet to make it magnetic, a piece of wood or particle board and used clothes pins to hold the recipes, or a covered painter's canvas.  I decided I liked the magnetic idea, but NOT the cookie sheet.  Not all cookie sheets are magnetic, and I think they look tacky.  However, to be perfectly honest, I really needed something that would fit in a flat-rate box since I was mailing it to New York.

I ended up choosing a piece of plywood that I found lying around and measured it to fit inside a medium flat-rate box (13x11).  My husband cut it with our jigsaw for me.

I called my sister-in-law to find out her kitchen's color scheme, and thankfully, she wasn't picky about colors.  I decided to go with red, black, and cream.  That inspiration hit me in the middle of the night.  It was then that I realized I had all of the materials that I needed. 

 I then got started on the magnets so they would have time to dry.  I decided to make the homemade glass magnets for the days of the week.  To make them, you can find a tutorial here:  Easy kids craft: Conversation Marble Magnets. 

After the "Modge Podge" dried, I used Aleene's craft glue to glue the magnets on. They are heavy-duty magnets I bought at The Home Depot, I believe.  Don't use hot glue to attach the magnets because they will just rip off after a while.  Find a good glue like Aleene's or Gorilla Glue.   I used the clothes pins as clamps.  I let the glue dry overnight, and so I worked on the rest of the board while those were drying.

 

I cut the fabric larger than the board and then stapled it on the back. 

Then I turned over the board and nailed the metal sheet onto the left side of my menu board (sorry the picture is dark and turned, but you get the idea).  I left some space at the top of the board.  Since plywood is difficult to nail into, my nails bent at the end; but I didn't mind because I had a plan to cover them anyway.

I then cut a piece of scrapbook paper and glued it to the top of the board.  I think I might have used craft glue for that. While it covered the metal sheet, I knew that my magnets were strong enough to go through the paper and the ribbon (that I added in the next step).

Using my glue gun, I glued the ribbon across the bottom end of the scrapbook paper and across the bottom of the metal board to cover the nails.  I used craft glue to reinforce it.

I then flipped it over and stapled the ribbon so it wouldn't just fall off.

Using scrapbook paper and stickers, I made the "Menu" label.  I glued it on with the modge podge mixture I had.

Next, flip over the board and find the center of the board, and attach a hanger so the board can be hung on the wall.  You could probably do this last, but I did it near the beginning.

Then I took another coordinating piece of scrapbook paper and stapled it to the back to hide all of the fabric and ribbon ends.

I decided to add another strip of scrapbook paper across the ribbon on the bottom to hide the nails even more and to add a little bit more character.  I like how it turned out.

Finally, I needed a place to put blank strips of paper so my in-laws can add their recipes.  I just folded scrapbook paper to make an envelope and stapled and glued it on.  Yes, I'm a little staple happy.  :)  Many of the other tutorials recommended a box, such as a crayon box, and I liked that idea, but I didn't have one, and I didn't feel like buying crayons just for that purpose.  I already have an infinite amount of loose crayons.

The next morning when the magnets were dry, I added them to the board.

I'm so happy with this project! Hopefully, my in-laws like it as much as I do.  I only wish I had better lighting in my kitchen so I could have gotten better pictures. . . oh, well, lesson learned!

Cookie Christmas Tree

 A couple of years ago, my mom gave me a Christmas Cookie Tree Kit (by Wilton).  This year I finally decided to make one.

To make a cookie tree, you need a large cut-out cookie recipe that you love such as a gingerbread or sugar cookie recipe and a frosting. (My recipe uses 5 cups of flour to give you an idea of how large I mean.) I chose to make my all-time favorite sugar cookie recipe.  It's one from my high school Home-Ec teacher.  They taste better than the Lofthouse cookies, in my opinion.  The secret is sour cream.

I chose my grandma's ornamental frosting.  It's 1 egg white, 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar, and 1 cup powdered sugar.  I made two batches of frosting, but I really only needed one.

I cut two cookies from each cookie cutter size.  I used my grandma's ornamental icing that I use for Gingerbread men.   I piped white around each of the stars.

I filled the stars with green frosting and then put red hots on each of the tips.

I took the picture below so you could see a difference in the frosting after I adjusted it. I added some corn syrup to make the frosting a little thinner, shinier and smoother.   The cookie on the right was the frosting without the adjustment.  I liked the character the "before" frosting added, but I also like the smoother finish.

After the frosting dried, I began building the tree.  I stabilized the bottom cookie by putting some frosting on the tray so the cookie wouldn't move.  As you stack the cookies, be sure to place a large dab of frosting on the middle of the cookie before placing the next one on.  Alternate the stars, so they look like branches.

Instead of using both of the smallest cookies as branches, I used one as the star topper.  Since I forgot to set aside some frosting to dye yellow, I used the sprinkles that I had.  I stuck a toothpick in the bottom of the cookie and put it through the middle of my tree.
 

As a sugar-cookie lover, this tree looks so delectable.  My husband complimented it when he got home from work.  I'm still deciding who is going to get the tree.  I think I'd like to start a new tradition that we give a sugar cookie tree once a year to someone that we think really needs a lift or that we want to thank for a special reason.  We'll see.  :) 

Accountable

Okay, so I just thought I'd update you all and let you know that I've already done 80 push-ups (over a couple of days) because I ate cold cereal (three times) and cookie dough.  Yes, the only way this is going to work is if I hold myself accountable. 

Yeah, well, at least my arms are getting a work-out. . .

Now if I could find that self-control button. . .

No Eating List

This is the year I'm taking control of my life. . . again.  Yeah, I think this will be a perpetual goal for me, but after gaining all the weight back that I had lost two years ago, it's time to really be serious about it all.  My arms are feeling my resolve. 

I realized I had to make a "Not Allowed to Eat" list.  This sounds drastic, but just like people who are trying to quit a serious addiction, I need motivation.  Serious motivation.  I have an addiction.  It's to food, namely sugar.   The "Not Allowed" foods are foods that I can't just eat a treat.  I seem to make a meal of them and can't stop.  I'm very specific in my foods, unless I have a problem with all kinds.  For example, on the top of my list is doughnuts.  I can eat any doughnut anywhere anytime and I can eat many, many doughnuts at a time.  The problem is I can't stop.  Okay, not can't, but won't.  I find some justification of why I can eat that doughnut every time.

Another food is cookie dough.  Yikes, I know, right?!  No, cookies is not on the list, just cookie dough.  Next is potato chips, not tortilla chips.  While their caloric intake is about the same, I can stop eating tortilla chips, I can eat an entire bag of potato chips, and I have to include Doritos in the potato chip category even though technically they're tortilla chips.

Other foods are tootsie rolls, sugared cereals, (I don't care if they say "whole grain," if they say "Fruit Loops, etc.," they're out!), Milk Duds, french fries, maple syrup (do you know how many calories are in that stuff?!), fast food shakes, and full-size candy bars or larger.  As I find myself gorging certain foods that are unhealthy, they're added to the list.

Okay, so you have a list, LeMira, that's good and all, but how are you going to be certain you don't justify eating those foods?  Good question.  I have a consequence.  Each time I eat those foods, I have to do 20 push-ups beyond my regular work-out.  Last night I didn't get to eat dinner until nearly 10:00 p.m., and I poured myself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.  I told myself that I can handle 20 extra push-ups, no big deal.  Then, I did the exact same thing this morning.  Let me tell you, two bowls of sugared cereal were NOT WORTH 40 extra push-ups.  I had already done 30, and my arms were "Jell-O."   Don't worry, as the arms get stronger, the consequence will get harder.  Maybe one day it will be pull-ups. . . I cringe just thinking about that.

Today when I go stock up on cereal, I'll be sure to by something NOT full of sugar.  You can bet on that.

True Love

True love is knowing the way to your spouse's heart.

Matt knows me too well.  Cookies -- yum!  Butterscotch Blondies -- Double Yum!

This was his first time making them, my first time eating them, and I think they turned out just right.

Discipline

I could blame it on having a new baby,

or I could blame it on how busy I am with Parent Council,

or I could accept the blame myself.

Whatever way you slice it, my motivation is gone.  As I told Natalie on the phone today, not only did I jump off the exercising, organizing, get-out-of-the-funk, bandwagon, I shoved it off the cliff.  I've devoted my time to being a mom to a new baby and to Parent Council.  A new baby is overwhelming in itself, but Parent Council takes just as much time and just as much energy.  Basically, to give you an idea, Jackson's school asks that families volunteer 40 hours a year.  Let's just say that I have nearly triple that amount already, and there's no way I can just be done with my volunteering for this year.

So, I'm spent.

I have to say that it feels good to have purpose and to help where help is needed, however, my house is a wreck.  I stack things on my table to be put away later, and they sit there for two weeks or more.  You don't even want to know how long it's been since I scrubbed my kitchen floor (nasty!).  My living room hasn't been uncluttered since the baby arrived.  My bedroom has furniture somewhere under the clothes and papers.  Laundry gets done because I have to have clean clothes, but usually my husband ends up folding it.  Dishes get done because I have a dishwasher and a husband.  Actually, lately, I have been trying to be better at the dishes, but that's because I have to wash bottles anyway.


My body is a wreck.  I eat any sugar-filled food that is available in my house.  I find a reason to "deserve" a doughnut or a treat when I go to the grocery store.  I snack on the chocolate chips in the cupboard, and yes, I even sneak some of Jackson's Halloween candy. (Hey, he's already forgotten about it sitting in on his closet shelf -- how does someone forget about their candy? That would be Matt's DNA at work, not mine.)  I consciously decide to NOT exercise.  The endorphins are almost at a stand-still, and that means my self-worth is diminishing.

I could go on, but you get the idea, and I really don't want to embarrass myself further.  

Thank goodness for good friends.  Today Natalie and I decided to end this de-motivation phase.  As we talked on the phone today, we decided to help each other.  Instead of cutting things off cold turkey and just jumping into good habits, we've decided to "Baby Step" it.  (Yes, you should be imagining Bob Wiley at this point.)  Renewing the habits just seems so overwhelming to do all at once, and it just is doomed to fail.

Today we've decided to be accountable to each other.  Each day we are going to individually pick one task to accomplish.  We know it will snowball and affect the other areas of our lives, but we need to focus small for a while.  I noticed it already.

Today I decided I would finally clear off my kitchen table and put everything away where it goes.  I give you proof:

 I got on a roll and even swept my floor -- maybe that means I will be able to scrub it in the next couple of days. . .I probably will since it's so disgusting.


I'm excited to be accountable again and to see success.  I'm ready to find myself and my furniture again.  :)  Maybe I'll even discover Jillian Michaels and let her beat me up again.  Time to beat the winter blues before they even show up.

Nothing tra la la

I feel so busy all the time, but I never seem to accomplish anything.

Oh, wait. . . I have a newborn. . . I'm told this is normal. 

A Friend is. . .

Have you ever realized that you've known someone for so long, but that you don't even really know that person.  The past few days I've been thinking about a person in my life who knows so very much about my family and me.  She has been so very connected to us for about a year, and I've spilled my guts to her about many things.  What do I know about her?  I know where she works.  I know her name.  I know a few other particulars about her, but not much. 

I realized that it is very disconcerting for me to not know much about her.  I feel like I owe her a lot because she has been so very helpful to our family, to me.  She's become a friend, and yet I feel like I've taken more in the friendship than I've given.  I think it's time I be a listener and I give back to her.  If my friend is reading, I hope she knows that I think very highly of her, and I wish, I really, really wish that one day all of the good she is doing for so many people who hurt will come back to bless her in ways innumerable.  That one day, she will feel like she has found her happily ever after.

My Apologies

Dear Congregation (in my church building today),

I'm sorry to say that the song you heard today in Sacrament Meeting was in fact, NOT the one I had been practicing for eight months.  Indeed, it wasn't even the same as the one I practiced that very morning.  Something happened between the time I stood up to walk to the piano and when I sat down at the instrument -- all 25 steps.

Apparently, my super hero senses kicked in the moment I sat on the bench and suddenly I could hear every movement, every crumpling paper, and every child's whisper despite the mental brick wall I built between the 150 people and me.  At the same time that my super keen hearing power kicked in, an earthquake began.  Well, it must have been an earthquake because for some reason, my entire being was shaking, and no amount of self-talk or deep breathing could make it stop.  The shaking started in my feet and ran through to the top of my head. 

Somehow the keys got switched during all that shaking because the notes I played weren't the ones written.  The earthquake significantly slowed my playing as I was having a difficult time controlling where to put my fingers.  Also, I think I must have been abducted by aliens for a brief minute because at one point, I had no idea what I had played or what I was to play next.  The very awkward moments that followed while I guessed where to strike the next keys were excruciatingly embarrassing.  I finished the song, thank heavens, with the correct notes.

I couldn't bear to look up at anyone as I returned to my seat.  Somehow, the shaking had ceased.  The piano-centered earthquake only lasted the duration of my musical number.  Even thought the shaking had ceased, the waterfall began.  I desperately began searching for tissues as I tried to contain the leaking from my eyes.  The anger and shame seared my face, and I wanted to run.  Only the thought of drawing more attention to myself kept me glued to my seat.

My husband let me silently cry and held my hand.  He said I sounded great, and that even though there were mistakes, I performed wonderfully.  My ever-supportive sister-in-law, who turned the pages for me, handed me the tissues and was completely empathetic (she plays the piano as well).  (Later on, after we returned home, my husband reminded me that it had been 11 years since I'd performed publicly, and that it would only improve if I kept practicing and performing for people.)  Immediately, the scripture passage from Ether 12:27 came to mind.  It states,

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

Yep, my weakness was glaring me in the face.  No matter the time and effort I put into practicing a song, I can't perform in public.  I don't do it.  That is my weakness.  No matter how flawless I play at home, when I sit in front of a crowd of people, it sounds as if I haven't practiced in months.  That is my weakness.

Yet, the promise is strong.  The promise is that if I have faith, then the Lord will make this weakness become a strength.  If I practice and perform more, the Lord will make this easy for me.  I will get good at it.  Perhaps not in a year or in two years, but eventually. 

With the performance over, the emotions running dry, and the support of wonderful family members and some good friends who said kind words to me after the service, I'm ready to pick a new song.  I'm ready to play again.  As my childhood friend told me, "If the horse bucks you off, you get right back up and get on."  This morning, I felt bucked off, but I'm happy to say that I'm going to get back on.

To the friend who said, "Good job, LeMira, I didn't know you could play like that,"  I say, "thank you."  That is what I needed to hear; you gave me the courage to climb back up on that horse.  Thank you for telling me that you were impressed (because that's the attitude in which she said it). I'm not a flawless player, but I sure tried my best.  While I'm not happy with the outcome, I can say that I finally achieved something I hadn't been able to do in 11 years.  I performed a solo in public, and I hope I can again.

To my friends in the congregation, thank you for allowing me to be shown my weakness and for giving me the chance to learn how to make it a strength.

Most Sincerely,

LeMira

The List

Fifteen years ago I remember writing a list about my dream guy.  It was long.  I typed it up, printed it out, and hung it on my wall.  On this list were things like, handsome, good sense of humor, returned missionary, Eagle Scout, great home teacher, taller than me, and active in the church.  I didn't know what he would look like or where I would meet him, but I had this list. 

When I went to college and really started branching out of my little, sheltered world, "the list" really helped me.  Before you start to roll your eyes, I didn't take this list with me on all my dates.  I didn't look over it carefully before I went out and then start interviewing each guy based on the "qualifications" on my list.  First of all, I didn't get asked out much on single dates; in fact, I was asked out ONCE during my freshman year of college and in my sophomore year I didn't get asked until I met Matt.  I did go on several group dates, but these were usually arranged by girls.  The guys we asked for our friends were always so good to play along. 

While it may seem shallow or even unfair to compare men to a list like this, I realize it was a really good thing.  If I expected the man I married to have all of these qualities, then I needed to work on them as well.  I always had it in mind.  I remember when I was dating Matt that I looked over the list and pleased to see that he seemed to fit all of my criteria.  I remember a blow when I did ask him about one or two on the list, and he told me that he wasn't so good in that area.  Of course, I didn't tell him about my list, that would be harsh.

When Matt proposed to me, I was working as a server at JB's.  The night managers quickly became surrogate fathers and good friends to us who worked there.  One of these great men wisely advised me to ask Matt why he loves me and then to come back and report.  The answer to this question, my manager told me, would be very telling about the kind of man Matt was.

I was nervous walking home from school with Matt that day because I knew I had to ask him this question.  I remember Matt being a little taken aback by this question, but he had a good, genuine answer for me.  What that answer was, exactly, I can't remember (so shoot me); but I do remember it had something to do with the fact that I loved him. 

Sooooo. . . back to the list. My Matt wasn't everything on that list, but I loved him very much. I realized that the man I would marry would not be perfect, but he would have the potential to be perfect one day just as I hoped I would be able to be.  The day I threw my list away, I knew that marriage was about working together towards exaltation.  Marriage is about teamwork.  And, well, eleven years later, I personally believe I picked a great team. 

Happy Anniversary, Matt!  I love you.

BEST Surprise

What do you do when your best friend flies in to surprise you for HER 30th birthday?!!


You celebrate with cheesecake, of course.

Then, you spend the night talking, watching Alias,

and squeezing her every once in a while just to remind you that she's really there.


The next day, you make sure your husband gets a good picture of you with your bestie and her sister, then you go get your feet all doodied up, go out to lunch and dinner together, and watch more Alias.

Then you let her attend Jackson's school with the penguins (because I do know how to share sometimes).

And then I squeeze her one last time to make sure she knows that I love her guts.

And what do I do now that she's gone back home?  I miss her immensely. . .

Love you, Natalie!

Special to Me

With the summer comes a new morning routine which includes a few more chores for Jackson than during the school year.  I get excited because it means that my living room gets dusted.  Dusting is probably my least favorite chore, but when it's one of Jackson's chores, I help him, and the whole room gets dusted. 

Anyway. . . the other day he was dusting, and I told him to be careful with a couple of the statues on the shelf because they are very special to me.  One is a Lladro that my brother and sister-in-law gave me when Jackson was in the hospital as a preemie (you can't find mine on that page anymore because I think it's no longer available), and the other is Clarissa's.  He did a great job.  When he got to the piano, he picked up the picture of my mom and dad, and said, "I need to be careful with this one because it's special to me." 

Melt my heart.

Yesterday was my parents' 41st anniversary.  (Yes, it is possible!)  My parents have had their struggles, and my mom would tell you that it isn't anything special because every marriage has its ups and downs.  No marriage is easy.  I would agree with her, except on the "not anything special" part.  Their marriage is special to me.  The world would tell you that if it's too hard, you should leave, give up.  There are more fish in the sea.  Well, I'm glad my parents didn't give up, even when it was the hardest.  I'm grateful my parents still struggle and work through life together. 

Right now life is especially hard for them as they take care of my grandmother who has been ill for a few years.  The toll on their own health has been great.  Their sacrifice has been truly Christlike.  Their example of endurance and strength is a reminder to me that when life is tough, it is worth it to push through. 

Mom and Dad,  I love you.

You are special to me, too.

Summer Goals

I've decided that I need some summer goals because I'm finding that without some goals written down, it's easy to get distracted with unnecessary things (like checking email and FB innumerable times throughout the day).  Notice, these are not our summer vacation plans -- we have plenty of those, too.

1.  Lose at least 15 pounds.  I know I can.  I just have to stay focused.  I would love to lose twenty pounds, but I'll stick with 15 for now.
2. Run another 5K in August with my friend.
3. Plan my Webelos Den Meetings through December.  (Webelos are the 10-11 year old cub scouts.) If I plan now, I won't be so swamped later (see Number 4).
4. Get my Parent Council stuff ready for next year.  Yes, I'm going to be the Parent Council President at Jackson's school for next year.  How did that happen?  No one else volunteered.
5. Put together Jackson's school scrapbooks before the new year starts.  If I plan to spend a little time every day on them, I should get a couple year's worth put together.  Especially if I don't try to make them super fancy.

Okay, those are my summer goals.  Those are enough to keep me focusing my energy where it needs to be.  If I get those things done, then I will have to just set more goals!  Here's to hoping I get more done that I have down here!

Replaceable but Meaningful

Two days ago I was talking on the phone to my sister-in-law when I heard the crash in the living room.  At first I was confused, but as I looked around the corner, it became clear.  My heart sank, and I couldn't bear to analyze the wreckage for the first moments.  I could see that something was completely smashed, and although I didn't want to look, my heart knew and just sank.

After I got off the phone, I stood at the edge of the couch looking down at the mess behind it.  Two of my shelves had fallen off the wall; one of which held several porcelain keepsakes.  Most of them I could see were intact, but there was one, just one, that I could only see the base, and the top of the shelf sat upside down on top of it.  I didn't want to look, but I had to confirm it.

My dear friend who is staying with us, helped me pull back the couch and move the larger shelf.  After a very quick surveillance, my head acknowledged what my heart already knew.  I had to turn my head and fight back tears and a sob.  I reached down and picked up the pieces to a beloved statue of Jesus Christ embracing a child.  It was a gift I had received from my brother's in-laws (who are just like family) at Clarissa's graveside.  Replaceable.  That's how I comforted myself.  "It's just a thing, I can buy a new one."  I vowed I would buy one within a couple of days.  Replaceable but meaningful. I couldn't bear the thought of the crushed statue being gone for more than a couple of minutes. I knew right where I could get one.

Last night as Matt and I sat visiting with our dear friends, their little girl approached me with a new statue.  Suddenly strange events that afternoon and evening made sense.  Matt had called me around 5:30 and said, "I'm in the truck with D------," and so I expected them home within 15 minutes, but they didn't arrive for another 45 minutes.  When they did return, they were outside for several minutes, and then our friend said he had to take off again.

When their sweet daughter handed me the statue, they explained what had happened.  The wife had called her husband and told him that he needed to buy a new one before I could.  She had noticed my emotions although I tried to contain them, and she knew just how special it was to me; and she knew I planned to go out and buy one today.  There are about three or four things that I treasure most, and that statue was one of them.

Apparently, the men drove to 3-4 different places scouring store shelves with no luck.  Matt suggested that they return to the house and pull the statue base out of the trash can because he remembered seeing a label on the bottom.  Little did he know that I had filled it with yard waste after working in the garden. After digging through yard waste and house waste, they finally found the base and took a picture of it.  The sculptor had a phone number on the bottom, and our friend called her.  He found where she sold them, and he quickly left so he could make it there before the store closed at 7:00 p.m.

I know it is just a statue.  I know it is just a thing.  For me, it is more than that.  For me, it embodies my emotions the day I buried my little girl.  Now the statue embodies that hope as well as standing for true friendship and love.  Now instead of just one meaning, it has multiple.  I'm thankful for things like true friendship and memories that are NOT replaceable and very meaningful.

Thank you to my dear, dear friend who was very discerning and her husband who was very diligent and persistent in finding it.  I love you!

P.S.  Don't worry -- no more sitting on high shelves that just might come crashing down.

What's the Word?

Two years ago, I knew this day would come; and the emotions that I have been dealing with for the past 24 hours are the reason why I waited for two years to do anything about it.  My heart sank, and I think I even cried two years ago when I realized what it could possibly be that I was feeling.  And then I told myself that it could be nothing, that I should just wait and see if anything changed.

Part of the reason I decided to wait is because my doctor was leaving on a sabbatical for a year, and I couldn't bear to go to another doctor and relate all of my medical history.  A year later when he returned, nothing had really changed, and I wanted to lose weight and get healthier before going to see him again.  I gave myself six months.  Well, six months turned into twelve, but I knew I needed the appointment, so I finally scheduled it the beginning of January.

When the day came for the appointment, for the first time in all my womanhood, I was not scared.  I was brave, confident.  I had gone over this conversation in my head for two years.  I confidently filled out all of the paperwork and breathed deeply when I got to my biggest concerns, but I only hesitated briefly.

Same doctor, new office = best doctor visit I ever had.  In the end, his nurse put in an order for the test that I knew I needed.  Due to scheduling, I knew my first available would be today, Valentine's Day.  Oh, goodie. . . just what all women want to do on the day of "love."

For two weeks, I've been brave, keeping  a straight face and keeping quiet.  I can count on one hand the number of people I told about this test.  I didn't want to alarm anyone unnecessarily, but I had to tell someone because my therapy is talking out my problems.  So, a few people were told.  I tried to be very nonchalant about it. . . until yesterday.

All day "I'm too young!  I'm too young, I'm only 30," kept playing in my head.  This shouldn't be happening to me at 30.  Prayers and a priesthood blessing calmed me.  I received an answer that I didn't want to question, but that I knew I wouldn't completely understand until after my appointment today.

I cried on the way to the hospital.  I had to let it out.  First of all, I hate that hospital.  The smells, the sounds, everything sends the emotions from Clarissa and Jackson swirling around me.  That hospital doesn't mean hope to me, it means gloom.  Secondly, I think of all the things that scare me in this world (snakes, heights, the dark), and the thing that scares me the absolute most is if the words are "Yes, that's what it is" today.  I don't want to hear the "c" word.  That word terrifies me.  The what-ifs are plaguing me.

I'm there early, and I get in early.  The nurse/technician gives me the robe to put on my upper half and tells me where to wait.  When there's a question of why when I'm only 30 am I here for a routine screening and "it's too high, this machine won't see anything," she leaves me alone in the room with the Machine.  I look at it, ominously humming at me, thinking how painful it can be and yet wondering how in the world it really works.  I think I remember seeing a video online about it somewhere.  Will this Machine give me the answers I'm looking for or will it be something else?  Secretly, I don't want to go anywhere near the machine.

My heart gives a small leap when she returns and tells me that they're going to do an ultrasound instead.  I want to turn around and stick my tongue out at the machine.   I return to the waiting room and sit a while longer for the ultrasound technician to "say" my name (it's more like "attempt to say my name" until I tell them how to pronounce it).

She takes me into a room, and I recognize this machine.  This one doesn't scare me, and I know I can have answers immediately.  I won't have to wait until my doctor calls me, or will I?  Nope, they bring in a radiologist so he can tell me before I leave.  I look on the screen, and I like to think I can understand what I'm seeing after several prenatal ultrasounds and seeing ultrasounds on Jackson.

The radiologist speaks, "It's not cancer.  There's nothing there and nothing to worry about."  Inwardly, I relax, but I listen intently as he explains further and tells me what to look for later on if I ever wonder again what it is I'm really feeling.  (Turns out it's just tissue that's developed differently on one side than the other.)

I wait to cry relief when I get to the car.  I text Matt and meet him outside of his building to give him the good news.  I think of all the tests I won't have to endure or the explanations I'd have to give Jackson or the bills I won't have to pay.  I thank the Lord the entire way home and shed some more tears, and I completely understand the meaning of, "The Lord has other things in store for you,"  and I'm thankful that "other things" don't include cancer.

Time Machine

Let's go back to 1990 shall we?  It was an era of Tiny Toons,  scrunchies, alternating sock colors, mini-skirts, dyed hair, stir-up pants, and "Achy Breaky Heart."  Well, at that point, I was still into the TMNT club I made with my friends, building forts, playing with my Barbies, and just being a kid.  And. . . I looked like this:

Oh, and did I mention that I did the St. Jude Bike-A-Thon that year that my mom helped with?  Obviously I earned a shirt out of it.   This is a picture of my cute "baby" brother as we're sitting in my aunt's and uncle's luxurious RV watching a movie.  Okay, it was luxurious to us -- I mean you could make at least three beds in there - one out of the table- , and there was a VCR!  It didn't get any better than that!

Now look behind me on the right hand side of the picture in the background.  You see those two vans?  Those are parked in front of my house, which is hard to see because of the trees.  If you click on the picture, you might just be able to see part of it.  My aunt and uncle were "staying" at my grandma's house just around the block.

Anyway, my aunt sent me this picture in the mail this week, and it was a pleasant surprise.  I love thinking back to my childhood.  Good times.

My Therapy

This last month has been really hard.  All of Jackson's demons, and in turn all of my demons have been haunting me.  This burden I'm carrying suddenly got heavier this month, and at some points I made it even worse for me and for Jackson.  I haven't been fair to him, and I've been doing my best to learn to combat my demons while helping with his.

Last week, though, my therapy arrived.  I had forgotten how much I'd missed it until I started it up again.   My two oldest brothers, and currently favorites for a while (sorry you other four, this was big),  loaded it and drove it 350 miles and unloaded it for me.  They even left tracks in my snow-lawn so I wouldn't forget the favor.

Matt came home from work, and we were worried that we'd need an army to bring it in, but my brother's truck made it all the way to the front door, and we didn't even need a dollie or the Elders Quorum!  It is not new, but it was free.  It's been a part of me since before I can remember.  I have pictures of me sitting there since I was a toddler and all the way through adulthood.  I am sad my mom doesn't have it anymore, but I'm so, so thankful for it.  I know Matt and Jackson are grateful as well.  This is my therapy:

 My "therapy" fits every mood.  Whether I am angry, depressed, jubilant, or just at ease, the piano restores my balance, it helps me find my center again.  My yelling has decreased.  Admittedly, Matt was sad that it wasn't a new or magnificent instrument and that it is out of tune, but that will be fixed soon.  The best part is that it was FREE, and Matt doesn't have to hear the words, "when I get my piano" anymore because I have it.  The only downsides are that I could play it all day and lose track of time and that I can't turn down the volume. 

Move over Computer! The piano is going to be my newly restored addiction.

To my brothers, mom and dad, THANK YOU!

The Path: What You Must Carry

After I wrote the first post, I've been thinking more and more about The Path.  So, you'll be getting a series of posts, I'm afraid.

I believe we start on our paths when we are born.  The ideal is that we are born with just our bodies to burden us for a while on the path.  After all, we started in the pre-mortal life  as spirits who were not used to bodies.  The Lord knew we'd have enough on our plates learning to feel hunger, cold, pain, touch, etc.  He gave us little bodies so we could grow into them, adjust to them.  We'd be "adjusting" to them our entire lives, but it would be better to start small with the basic things before we had more burdens to carry.

That situation is the ideal.  Most babies born only really have that to worry about because that's all they process.  However, some babies are born with burdens already placed on their backs either because of another person's choices or because nature intervenes (of course, I really believe that it's not nature, but God who gives us some of these challenges).  For example, some babies are born prematurely either by the choices the mother made while the baby was in utero, or because they just came (like Jackson -- there is no explanation for his early arrival).  Other burdens that babies shouldn't have to bear are things like Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, neglect, blindness, cerebral palsy, autism, congenital heart defects, and the list goes on and on.  These are burdens that don't go away, they are ones that the babies will have to carry for the duration of their journey.

After a while, some may not even consider them burdens, but blessings. They even learn how to use their "burdens" to lift others.  Have you seen this guy yet?  (Make sure to watch other videos of him if you haven't.  I just picked a clip.)




As a child grows, more burdens may be placed and others eased while others are just named.  For example, Jackson had many burdens because of his prematurity, and many of those burdens were lifted due to therapy, medication, surgeries, etc.  I believe he's always carried his PDD-NOS, but it wasn't until this year that it was finally named.

Other burdens placed on a person or picked up along the way can be adoption, abuse, addiction, diabetes, cancer, death of another, grief, infertility, financial ruin, etc.    Many burdens, when first placed upon our backs are very debilitating, and we can not lift them on our own.   I'm sure you're thinking right now of all of the burdens you've carried at some point in your life and perhaps some of the heaviest that you are carrying now. 

  Yes, I'm sure you've dumped out a bunch of your burdens when you wondered why you were carrying it any longer, and I'll bet some burdens that you've dumped, you've somehow picked back up again.  For instance, I constantly seem to pick up the "you are what you weigh" burden.  I keep trying to dump it, I promise.

Some of these burdens are lighter than others and some seem to lighten along the way.  I would venture to say that they don't lighten, but you become stronger.  Do you realize how strong you are?  You, my friend, are amazing.  Look how far you've come with what you've had to carry in your life!  Does that mean it will get easier?  Heck, no!  But it does mean you can keep going because you've already come so far.  Give yourself some credit.  The burdens and trials will keep coming, they just will, but you can make it because you are strong and because you are not alone on this path for very long at a time.  (More on that in a future post.)

What burdens are you carrying now?  What has helped you the most in easing your burdens?