mantras

I'm on a posting frenzy. All day, errday, my friends.

I just got home from counseling, so let's process. If you want.

We discussed my cynicism, creating new habits and thought processes. It was good. But my mind has moved on since then. This week, from different people, I've been told I'm hyper-mobile, hyper-aware, and hyper-sensitive... physically as well as mentally. What does that mean for a person? I feel like hyper-anything is bad.

The conclusion we came to in counseling is that my awareness of my issues is the best start, and from there I can actively break down habits and thought processes.

Ok, that didn't take long.

I dislike when people say they went to therapy, because therapy sounds really trendy. People on TV have therapists. It's real cool. This is just my point of view. I know that therapists exist, and therefore it's therapy. But... I prefer to say counselor.

I couldn't sleep last night, so I made cream of wheat. I felt like I was 10 again. I really wished we had marshmallows though.

Lastly, my friend told me she had a mantra about her body. It's this: vehicle to my dreams, instrument of my life. She said it's made her to push ups twice. I told her I liked it so much I was going to make it my own. I came up with this: bicycle to my dreams, cello of my life. Good, right?! I'm not serious.

I feel like people go to counseling/therapy and get all these mantras or phrases to live by. I don't really have those. Guess I'll come up with some. And if you have one, please post it in the comments so I can have it too.

Beer and birthdays

Last night we attended birthing class. It was one-on-one so we talked about our legit fears. Mine were like "My baby won't breast feed" and Tyler's were like "the birthing pool leaks."

It was good though. Tyler told the teacher it's a great class, even if it just means thinking about the birth for 3 hours a week. She said, "You should be thinking about it more than three hours a week." Haha. We are.

Anyway, we always do what's easy and comfortable when it comes to social situations, so Tyler was like "Let's just go to Trailhead." That's the place we always go. We have a bar tender there. He gave us a chest of drawers for goodness sake. We needed a change. So for Tyler's 26th bday, we did end up going to The Civil Life Brewing Company. It is such a cool place. They have a simple menu of food, and it's actually good. You can get a half pint of beer for $2.50 or a full pint for $5.00. They encourage you to try their different beers. It's more about appreciation. It's in sort of a warehouse ish type building in the middle of a neighborhood. It's cool.

The bartender had this badass mustache and he was reading this HUGE book titled "BEER."

I had 8 oz. of beer. I don't want anyone to be scared, but I'm just being honest. My midwife prescribed a glass of wine and a bath for my contractions. In my humble opinion, it's ok. It's ok for the baby. This is America. They tell you not to eat or drink certain things because we don't know how to do it in moderation here. Heck, I've had lunch meat a time or two. And an occasional zebra cake, which, mind you, should be on the list of things to not eat when you're pregnant. Or ever. Good heavens, things are a little backwards.

So I sipped and savored and nursed 8 oz of the tastiest ESB I've ever had (that I can remember... it's been a while) and we shared pretzels with spicy mustard and these incredible stuffed peppers (they were stuffed with prosciutto, which I'm sure is on the list... and the cheese was soft!).

We discussed age. Tyler said he was "pleased with the trajectory" of his life, that he liked his wife, and that 26 seemed to be a good age. People sent him sweet messages about what a great young man he is and how they're excited for his next chapter of life. How sweet. People are sweet sometimes.

And I slept like a freaking baby. I don't even know if I got up to pee, whereas the last two nights I don't think I hit REM cycle. Ah. Beer. Also, it was hoppy, and Hops is the herb I've been taking to calm my contractions down. What a nice night it was. Perhaps I dreamed I was a birthing mama cow, but I don't remember.

This is the end of my post.

Tyler's birthday, chalk drawings, animal behavior

Well, I'm back again, yes, so soon. Last night while Tyler was in class I worked on his "birthday present" and watched the Card's game. He told me a few days ago that he wanted a drawing of a longhorn steer in the house somewhere... and I was like, Gross, Texas. Sorry, Texas people. :):):):):):):):):) But really, it makes no sense. A longhorn steer says "texas" and we aren't a texas family. It just doesn't fit. You get it.

I tried it anyway, five times I tried it. Well, first I painted chalkboard paint onto one of our large white plates that my sister Amanda gave us when we got married. Then I tried to chalk a simple bull, and it looked so dumb. I am an impatient little girl right now, but I didn't give up until my 5th cow. He always asks for the simplest things, like an apple corer or just a birthday party. He asked for a cow and I could not deliver.

So I drew a picture of our window, because I love our home, and I wrote a song lyric by Frightened Rabbit. It's chalk! I'll erase the S word when the baby starts reading. 

I made him a Florentine Omelet and wrote him a love note, like back in high school. 

We have our One-On-One Birth Class tonight, so we're going to get a drink after to celebrate his birthday.

I was in such a good mood all day yesterday because I was feeling better. I did all the stuff I was supposed to before bed, and then I laid down and the contractions hit. Our birth teacher told us about contraction timers, so I downloaded one. 6-8 minutes apart, anywhere from 35 seconds to a minute long, and the farther apart they were the more painful the next one was. I'd drift into sleep in those 6-8 minutes and then be half awake when they hit, dreaming that I was a different animal in labor. I think it's because I did my birth class homework last night and it was about the Primal Brain. 

What I'd love is to be able to get some comfortable sleep, but I know that's being a bit too demanding at this point. All I want is my midwife to say, "Ok, this isn't totally normal this early on, but your body is just preparing you and everything is fine." OK. I will stop complaining and just make a construction paper chain leading to my due date. 

This morning after I made Tyler his birthday breakfast, I had an extra piece of bacon. The dogs had just been given their dog food, Char in the well-lit kitchen and Russ in the unlit sunroom. I gave Char her half of the bacon, and then thought "I should turn the light on, Russ won't be able to see me," and then I didn't do what I said I should do and Russ bit my thumb so hard when I gave him the bacon. He slightly punctured the nail right at the quick. He held on tight. Good heavens. I never want to be eaten by something stronger than me. So frustrating. It bled, but skin is skin. It's the joint that hurts, and he got my index finger too. Poor guy, he had no idea why I yelled.  

So that's that. Ange and I were just texting and I said "I'm eating a zebra cake because I have anger in my heart." After Russ bit me, I cried. It was an angry cry. A frustrated one. 

I can do this. 

Sigh of something

Well, last week I randomly got on Google+, and really, who does that anymore? I think I got an email from them or something that prompted me. So I started finagling around with my photos on there, and there is an entire album of 245 pictures attached to this blog... so 5 years of photos that I've posted here, for you lovely beings, not for the entire google+ world.

So I made the album private. Then I come here to blog and all of my photos are negative signs. I couldn't fix it for the life of me, so I had my friend David fix it a few days later. It then sent an email to a bunch of people saying "Look at this album," which I didn't really want to happen, but oh well.

In the meantime, I even went to wordpress to make a new blog. I hated it. I think I've done it before too - wordpress, tumblr. Several times I'm sure. But I love familiarity and comfort, so I'm sticking with you, blogger, even though at every turn of my life I have started a new blog.

We had Tyler's "birthday" party on Saturday night, but it was mostly a "watch the cards game" party. More low key, which was fine. Not our typical kegger.

Starting last Monday I was noticing more intense Braxton Hicks. I think I mentioned it on here. Well, by Saturday night, I was on the couch nearly the whole night during the party, very uncomfortable and on the verge of tears a lot. Sunday morning I sang, and right before I went up to sing my friend came and asked how I was doing, to which I responded by crying. So I missed the first song, which was fine. I didn't feel like singing in the first place because I was in some pain. I feel weird calling it pain - it's a dull ache in my hips and low back, and then the sharp feeling like someone is sticking their finger in a wound, but it's just a baby limb in my hip nerves or something.

By Sunday afternoon, Tyler made me call my midwife. I was slightly frustrated because she said I should go to the chiropractor. I explained to her that the chiropractor told me to stop coming because it was making me worse. Of course, she can't know how I'm feeling or how "bad" it is unless she felt it herself. Or, like those freaking rating systems - "On a scale of 1-10, how bad does it hurt?" people should stop doing that, because everyone says a different number. I freaking hate it and want to punch people when they do that. Thankfully, she didn't do that. She is a very sweet woman. And she did say, "Well, these sound like more than b&h so I don't want to act like it's nothing."

She suggested a bath. I hate baths. They're disgusting. I'd bathe in a hotel before I'd bathe in our bathtub. All I can picture is the woman we bought the house from bathing with her cats. And there were stains we could not get out of the bathtub, so no. No bath for Shannon. She also suggested a glass of wine, which I savored and enjoyed and loved. Ah. Gnarly Head. It's our favorite. It helped, but I still did not sleep well last night, and I woke myself up a few times moaning... so I did get some sleep actually, but you know. After breakfast this morning, I went back to bed and slept so well. Then I went to Cheryl's Herbs and got some skullcap and hops... and I drank a few drops of them in water. It's supposed to quell contractions. I do believe it's helping, plus the nap. And the wine.

I think stuff was just catching up with me. And yes, I'm drinking lots of water.

So I won't call it relief, but it's better than going into labor at 32 weeks.

Tomorrow is Tyler's 26th Birthday. I've had my eye on him for ten years now (well, much longer actually, but nothing can come of love in the third grade). He's gotten cuter and sweeter and funnier. And I love him so much.

The End.

I'm all over the place

Woke up this morning to teach Rise and Shine yoga at BBY. That's Blue Bird Yoga, to all you strangers. The painting on the wall at the studio looks almost identical to the tattoo on my back, which is kind of funny... but sometimes I feel like I need to clarify that I got my tattoo two years before the studio opened. OR, they can just think I'm really dedicated.

My friend bought me a foot scrubber, because I was telling her how dry and disgusting my feet were. I just used it, and wow, my feet are soft. I soaked them in hot-ish water with Apple Cider Vinegar and some Baking Soda. It's nice. My skin is floating around in the foot soak.

So I have had Braxton Hicks for a long time, like they probably started at 20 weeks. It's nothing really, just the belly getting way tight and usually a bulge happening somewhere. Well, the last three days they have been more intense. I thought it was just a coincidence, but I'm going on day four of needing to stand up or breathe through the rushes, and I'll just be 33 weeks on Saturday. It's painful in my left hip and sometimes low back, like I need to make more room. So standing up helps. Can't wait for the real stuff. I did text my midwife, just so she's aware.

I'm picking up a 13 year old girl from school today and taking her to Starbucks. She goes to my church, and she has a lot of energy. The kind of energy that makes me very quiet. I'm trying to think of questions to ask her.

I suddenly feel a nap coming on - but first. I made cauliflower crust pizza, which was awesome. Then I made beef stew with carrots and onions. My pee smells like beef broth.

And if you saw the Cards games last night... wow. So many mistakes, it was like watching The Happening when you're like "Why is that guy running his car into a tree?!" before you realize it's because of pollution... except we were like "WHY IS HE STARING AT A FLY BALL AND LETTING IT HIT THE GROUND?!" It was a horror movie. I was waiting for a broken bat to fly into someone's throat. And I'm not even a fan. I just live here, and I've gotten sucked in.

And the title of this post suggests that my emotions float me to and fro. Yesterday I put mascara on and told myself that I was pretty, that my husband liked me, and that I was already a mommy master because I took care of a baby and made stew, all in one day! The day before, I was purt'near the bottom. Sometimes things have to be faked until you believe them. I have to do this a lot.

I can't wait to update you tomorrow on our birth class tonight and all of the interesting things that go down.

Do something scary

Yesterday I did something that scared me. I went on a walk, almost by myself, but I actually took a 4 month old with me in my awesome stroller. It was terrifying.

I made a list. I'll show you a picture of it.

So, on the list you might see the word DRAW - I promised to draw something every day. To the right, you will see a chandelier. It's the chandelier that hangs elegantly in my dining room. The drawing is not good, which is why I will practice every day. 

And then I promised I'd do something that scared me every day, and maybe I'll sub the word "challenges" in as well. On my list I wrote "go for a walk by myself," because that freaks me out. Also on the list was going to the grocery store by myself... and a lot of other things that end in "by myself." 

I wore my nephew around a bit yesterday. He crushed my belly, but he's really cute. 

I am entirely uncomfortable. And if you ask me how I'm feeling, my eyes will well up with tears and I will calmly say "it's tight." Because if I say more, the liquid surface tension will break and pool over and it won't end, and there will be snot. I might try to say more and spit will start flying out of my mouth with each word. Sobs. I cry a lot in the car - sometimes when I'm singing with Katy Perry, because I'm not louder than a lion. I am weak and exhausted. I don't have the eye of the tiger. 

I went to the James study this morning that I didn't do a drop of homework for. But, I showed up. Sometimes that is all we can do. Sorry if I sound like Elizabeth Gilbert right now. I'm not trying to romanticize my laziness, or make it ok. It was good to just be there, to put myself in the way of pursuit. I'm not hiding, but I am just here. Kind of giving up and saying, "God, I drove through the construction and am sitting in this awful chair to listen to a crazy woman talk about James (crazy in a good way). Please do the rest." 

I get so frustrated with people when they don't listen. Mostly in yoga. I say, "Straighten your right leg," and the person keeps their leg bent, looking around the room with this face that says "Who is this idiot teacher?" because they think everyone is looking at them, when really no one is looking at them. Everyone is focused on themselves, thinking that everybody else is looking at them. NO ONE IS LOOKING AT YOU, now straighten your damn leg. 

Yoga is cool because you can see change so quickly. 

Life is cool, but much harder. I struggle with the same stuff, forever. Now, let's throw a kid in there! 

12:19 pm is nap time today. When I wake up I'm making a grocery list and I'm going to do a scary thing... go to the store by myself. 

Birth Class

Tyler and I started our "Naturally Prepared" birth class last night. There are three other couples, but only one was there last night. They seem very smart and put together. Smart, in the British sense, like "They were a smart couple."
(neat British English

a) a smart person is wearing neat attractive clothes and has a generally tidy appearance [= sharp American English; ≠ scruffy]:

You're looking very smart.

b) smart clothes, buildings etc are clean, tidy, and attractive)

When we got in the car I said, "I think they're more mature than us, but that's ok." Like, Tyler asked the teacher if using breast milk for pink eye worked, and she responded "Oh yeah, it works for a lot of things." and Tyler responded, "Like chocolate milk?"

At the end of class we had to "find our breath" while our partner massaged us, and we listened to "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson. I love that song. When the song ended, she said "thank your partner," so I turned and bowed to Tyler, and he died laughing... the other couple looked like they needed to find a room, which is totally fine. So I thought "AH!" and hugged Tyler, because of course this is an emotional journey. I suppose sometimes we can be jokey, as a means of protection or a way to ignore the fact that we're terrified. Or we're just different from them, and that's ok.

Tyler is more terrified now, but I think it's healthy. Our instructor (who's name is Samanda. That's Amanda with an S) showed us what a contraction might look like. The husbands looked like shamed little boys. She was on her hands and knees, rocking forward and backward, moaning, yelling, it got really intense, I was sweating. And this woman described herself as a feminist hippie, so picture that. It wasn't a beautiful scene, but I certainly appreciated it.

I think I will feel much more prepared after the 6 weeks is up, and as usual, I am overly confident. Not because of me, but because it's in there and it has to come out and people do it all the time. So. That's it. What else can be done, except to hold handfuls of ice and "welcome your contraction" while finding my breath... haha. All you moms want to punch me. It's ok.

I bought a drawing book yesterday. I went to Hobby Lobby for the rubber and carving tool for my new stamp business endeavor, my new life calling, and they had no stamp rubber! So of course, I bought a drawing book and this beautiful box of pencils. We did an art project in the birth class, but it was with giant pieces of chalk, so my precision was... not great. We drew a labyrinth, and when finished, it looks like a cervix opening. Yowza. At the entrance we had to draw a symbol or something that represented us, so of course I drew a lion. My art looked like crap! and we're adding to it over the next six weeks. So I'll be working on my own cervical labyrinth in my own drawing book. And then I'll share a picture with you when I'm done.

I get a haircut today. I'm excited.

Warmly, Shannon

There is a Pinterest/Craft Night coming up this Friday with ladies from my church. I'm looking forward to it. Never in the last 6 years have I felt the desire to sit around with women and craft something, but I've been feeling nesty and crafty lately. I just needed to find my craft and go with it.

So apparently humans carve rubber with tools and make stamps. And I'm going to do that. I think my house is chalk-drawn enough. Time to start carving. Soon enough, you will be getting a card from me, or perhaps a receiving blanket... or a kerchief... with the Wheeler logo on it. I'm kidding. We don't have a logo, and I know you wouldn't want it if we did. I'll be making a trip to Hobby Lobby soon, with some warm cash in my pocket. I don't know what warm cash even is. Sounds gross though, now that I think it through. If stamping isn't my life calling... I guess I'll just raise children.

I've been doing some severe napping, and the dogs love it. They snuggle hard core with me. Russ inched his way up the couch and rested his floppy face right on my belly. It was so sweet. They know something is up.

I read this article, which some of you may have seen on Facebook, titled something like "Stay at Home Mom - WHAT DO YOU DO ALL DAY?!" And I just want to say I am guilty of saying, "Do you work for a living, or just stay home?" Or, "Do you plan to just say home?" and the "just" really weighs that sentence down. I apologize to the moms I've said it to, and would definitely appreciate some grace. The "just" implies that you are doing one thing (one umbrella that covers a lot of things) - raising a kid - instead of two things, raising a kid and working for a paycheck. Such a tricky line to walk on. Imagine how I feel now. People ask if I'm keeping myself busy, I'm like, YEAH. I blog, I take a nap, I take a yoga class, I get coffee with a friend, then I teach a yoga class, I go to counseling and work through all of my stuff, I read books, cook dinner, teach another yoga class, and try to come up with a life calling - like making stamps! So. I'm super grateful for this time. And at times, I feel like a spoiled high schooler during summer. Honestly. If I had to work and Tyler was staying home every day, I would be 1) obnoxiously jealous and 2) expect him to remodel the house.

That's all.

Writing what I think

My sister's blog talks about a book she is reading about writing. I think I will get it. Here's a list of rules for a writing exercise:

1. You can't stop
2. You can't cross out
3. Don't worry about punctuation or grammar
4. You must lose control
5. You must not be logical
6. If something comes to you in writing that scares you, you must dive right into it.

Well, in that case... I cleaned my church a little bit yesterday, because our awesome janitor is on vacation. There is something scary about being in an empty building that is usually full of people. I wanted to sing so badly, but I wasn't sure if my pastor was studying in his office. Then I also wasn't sure if he was taking a big dump when I went to do the trash in the men's bathroom... so imagine my awkwardness as I knock on the men's bathroom door in a dark hallway, humming quietly, hoping that they don't watch the security cameras. And also, I don't know how to open a baby gate. The security cameras definitely got that one. I laughed to myself and hiked my pregnant leg over the damn gate after staring at it, then jiggling it for a good 47 seconds. 


I ordered my new gauges from Etsy. I can't wait. Everything that I find and love on Etsy ends up being shipped from another country - my headbands are from Australia, my nose ring is from Israel, and these gauges (custom made, yo) are from Canada.

The other night at a friends, we talked about "image management," and how we're always attempting to appear a certain way. It's so true. I appreciate, and perhaps idolize, a certain type of person. I want to be "this" type of person, so I dress that way and adopt lifestyle patterns that match who/what I want to be like. I buy into it. Someone said the other day that on Facebook, we only put the good stuff. I disagreed though. People definitely put the bad stuff too, because a lot of times we find our identity in our crisis or our current state. Imagine this: literally every time I speak to a person and ask what they did over the weekend or how their day has been, they say "Oh, well I have insomnia, so, I didn't do anything," or, "well, I have insomnia so it's been a bad such-and-such." Number one, I know you have insomnia because you've told me 17 times. Number two, don't define yourself by your ailments. THAT IS SO HARD. I know it is. But sometimes we hold on so tightly to the bad stuff going on that it becomes a part of us and that's why it won't get better (not always. I know that our thoughts can't cure cancer - but I do think there is something to say for positivity and quality of life). I think eventually we get to the point where we don't want to give up our shit because then, what would we talk about? Who are we when we're not complaining/bragging about how busy we are? Who am I when I'm just quiet for a second, and not trying to appear a certain way? What's my excuse for not making changes?

At the same time, God created us different. And we are humans. We complain. We hurt, and we shouldn't keep it all in. I'm always looking for that balance, and as you can see from this blog I swing really high in both directions every other day, or few hours.

But, I just "dove into it," (dived?) as the rule commanded me, and when I do that I tend to offend people, mostly because I see things from my perspective, which is based on my circumstances usually. But, I love seeing things from other people's perspective when they're shared with me and going, "Oh wow, yeah. I haven't thought of that before." But then seeing too that we can both learn from each other and grow. How nice. Growth. I love it. 

PS. I want this cute baby out of me. Tyler said yesterday, "I want that baby out! So it can be right here!" and patted his chest. I just need to say that I am so grateful and honored to be married to a guy that is so excited to meet our kid. He told me I wasn't allowed to tell people this anymore... so here it goes! When he sleeps, he turns into a seven year old boy. He says things in his sleep all night long, with great emotion and zeal, like "Shan, you are my BEST friend in the whole world! I love you so much," (it's a whisper yell) and tells me I'm his favorite, that I'm the most beautiful girl in the world, etc. It's hilarious and I laugh a lot. Well, earlier this week in the middle of the night, he put his hand on my belly and said, "Uuuugghh, I love this baby so much." So sweet. Puke if you want. 

The end. 

It's Sunday.

This morning I awoke at 4:30am, as is custom, and thought "Oh my heavens, It's Monday. I'm teaching yoga at 9am and I have not once thought about a class sequence all weekend." Now, it doesn't take me long to throw a class together, but I have found that actually putting thought into the sequence rather than "I'M JUST GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES" works best, because the drill sergeant mentality makes me leave thinking "I made them sweat! I'm that teacher that they think about the next morning when they can't get out of bed." And everyone else just leaves scared and complains that we need a class easier than Basics. There is a disconnect. Oh, but that's another subject.

I also had this extreme feeling of loss, which I couldn't convey in my facebook status. I almost felt empty. I knew it was Monday, and was just upset that I had glossed over my day of rest without thought. It was a sad, but responsible feeling - like, ok, I made a mistake and didn't appreciate my Sunday, and now it's Monday and I will pay for it on the chin. I do that to myself. Though, I'm not sure how I would have paid for it. I guess by not allowing myself to mourn. What a blissful life I lead.

One time I was doing a pose in yoga, and my friend/teacher was smiling at me because she had tried a couple of times to tell me that I was doing the wrong leg. I was so upset with myself for not "listening" and "being quiet" and "paying attention" and "being present" and being "mindful" that I did it twice on that side on purpose, and it burned, and I was sore the next day, and I felt lop-sided... but I DESERVED it. Because of my lack of attention.

Sometimes I think I should be a Monk... but I wouldn't last a day. I just sprinkle Monkishness throughout my life when I'm not allowing myself to bask in the True Comfort of God's Grace.

ANYWAY. Sometimes I want to write a book, when I read people like Ann Lamott or Donald Miller, because I, too, am cynical. But then I realize that my thought process is in 17 places and people would probably have a seizure if they read my book. But, my goals class did make me think "Maybe I'll take a writing class" and stop starting sentences with BUT and using quotes when I'm not supposed to. And maybe I'll wait until I have some life experience, my hair is silver, and young girls think "that old lady is cool."

This morning, church was about Religious Feasts/Rituals, and as you know if you ever read this blog, I love rituals. I like the idea of them, but I don't do them really. I like the idea of lighting a candle at dinner and truly observing the Sabbath. Turning off technology. Truly resting. I like the idea of fasting. Rituals crack my heart in a way other things can't. I often live with the mentality that Jesus came so I can eat real bacon, and I don't have to worry about observing the old law. But. It's good to be reminded. People say you can take communion too much. I say, give it to me every morning when I wake up. My heart is hard, I need to be reminded to Remember.

Anyway, so I busted out Searching for God Knows What again, and I think I'll start Mudhouse Sabbath too. Books that changed my life a bit - sometimes I read them years later and think, "childsplay!" Ha. I'm a child.

I will be going to my friend's house for dinner tonight while Tyler has men from our community group over. I was going to barricade myself in my room with a book, but that's awkward. What if I can hear them talking? What if I have to pee (I will)? So I invited myself over to have dinner with her and her husband. I can't tell you how thankful I am to have relationships like that. I'm going to wear my pajamas.

I think that's all that's in there today. I'm so happy my sister is pregnant. How insane. My baby will just be a little older than her baby. I think about stuff like that now. Oh, our kids can play together. See, I used italics instead of quotes there. Also, saying that I want to take a writing class and admitting that sometimes I imagine writing a book is scary and embarassing, so thanks for your sweet, loving chuckle.

I did set a goal to hang at my yoga studio though. It's this: I will run ten miles a week by May 2014.

Happy Sabbath.

Be callm

Tyler and I both cleaned the sun room last night, and I organized some baby stuff in the baby room. This morning we drank our coffee and ate breakfast in the clean sun room. It was lovely. We talked about what we wanted to do to our house. I feel motivated.

A friend came over for tea this morning, and she brought these really subtly sweet doughnuts, which was great because I rode the bike this morning and needed to get those calories back! Exclamation points.

It's beautiful out. My friend Charlsey sent me a "care package" with the most awesome stuff in it. She is a gift giver. I saved every piece of wrapping, because the presentation was just... detailed and perfect.

I told Tyler we had to use the Boxer onesie right away, because it's infant size. He agreed - it must be used immediately. Wipe that baby off - onesie on. 

The room is still lacking, but the bins are organized

This, my friends, is sage advice from my 9-year-old niece, and friend, Riley Gwyneth Weber. 

I'm going to go enjoy this day. Peace.

Goal Setting

Last night I took a goal setting course put on by Lululemon Athletica at my yoga studio. Before that, I taught a rockin yoga class. It's amazing what being prepared can do for you... and other people.

Anyway, I've taken this goal setting class before. It wasn't life altering, necessarily, or maybe it was. I think I wrote that I wanted to have a garden and be a yoga teacher. I did both. But that was two years ago, and our yard now is literally a small dog park, not fit for herbage. And it gets no sunlight. Which is great for sipping tea and lowering your AC bill.

Format of the goal class - write your "vision" for a day in your life ten years from now. Personally, that makes the feeling of air rush up my throat, and my heart patter. Then I cough. I'll be 35. Ok, big freakin' deal. From there you take the biggest goal - what they call a BHAG. Big Hairy Audacious Goal (so cute with your BHAGS and tight pants, Lulu) and put a time limit on it - I will have two adopted children by 2023. The freaky thing about it is, you write things down that you may have never said out loud. And then you get this 10 year goal. And then it... happens? Usually, but only if you magnet it to your fridge.

To get to your 10 year goal, you've got all these other little things that need to be accomplished, so make those your 5 year goals. To do those, you've got to have a 1 year goal. And you separate these goals into personal, health, and career. If you want.

So I won't bore you with all of my details of goals, but here is my vision. Ten years from now I have an almost ten year old, and other children of various ages (perhaps five all together - are you laughing?). Two of them are adopted. I teach yoga, and work part time at Connections to Success (ha!). I might be a home school mom, we'll see. I run, read, do yoga and meditate/read my bible every day. My family is healthy - mostly paleo. We sing before dinner. We invite people into our home. My kids are thoughtful. My husband is still sweet. He runs a company, and enjoys it. We all sing and play instruments together. Technology in our home is limited - TV is rarely used in our finished basement, Facebook died with Mark Zuckerberg, and we have flip phones. The pups are aging, and we have a new puppy named Woodrow. Our lifestyle is sustainable. We grow stuff.

I'm sure there's more, but I feel like being done. Somehow, from this, it has spurred my little mind. Today I'm going to sweep/clean the sunroom and move the dog crate out. It will be a clean place to drink coffee in the morning and practice yoga. I'd have my baby in there if it weren't going to be winter. Then I'm going to clean the basement/clean off the ping pong table in preparation for Tyler's bday party. It's on the 26th. You're invited.

That's all. Try writing out your vision in ten years, even if you think it's dumb. It's fun. Maybe you have a business out of your home, or you write a book. Cool!

Women do it every day

Amanda, I did delete my last post. And thank you for your sweet comment. You made me gulp down a mass of snot and tears. Ok, I'm not doing that badly right now... but. You know.

I went to Connect last night. I was quiet. Here I am, this "mentor" who doesn't talk to anyone. My, how God uses silly people. It was share time, and our facilitator said we each had 3 minutes to talk about where we are right now, and if we needed to say something first that's closing us up, do it. I swear he was staring at me. So I (quietly) said, "I'll go." Everyone cheered. It's a hilarious environment, especially for my thick cynicism. I said, "I'm in my third trimester. I'm so tired. I feel like crap, and I'm having such a hard time being positive... but I wanted to come tonight because it always helps to put things into perspective when I see that other people are struggling too, and still have the strength to encourage others." I said that I was open to feedback. One girl said, "I don't even remember your name, but you weren't here last week and we had an empty chair for you, and you was missed. So even though you didn't feel like comin' tonight, we are all glad your here.... also, your skin is radiant. And weren't you supposed to teach us yoga to help digest our dinner?" Later, when she took her three minutes, she said she was looking for a job... but that if she didn't find one (then she stood up and did a hilarious dance) that she would keep dancing behind the register at White Castle. She's a cool lady.

I was doing all I could not to cry. All the sweet ladies encouraged me, even some of the men. And I'm thinking "what a brat am I!" because I can't get over the fact that I waddle, and sometimes I even walk on my tip toes for fear that my belly will explode (it seems to help), but these people have so much struggle. No one will give them a job, some are homeless... but they have so much hope, and drive. And I act like the world is over if I skip a morning yoga class. I guilt myself over every little thing. Why, I don't know. Our facilitator said, "Guilt is the mafia of the mind." He's got all sorts of phrases. "Enjoy the process" is another one.

 I came home after and just cried to Tyler, because women do this every freaking day... but mentally I just can't process it. He said he thinks I just THINK I can't mentally process it. Ok. Regardless, second trimester was great. And now here I am. I'm trying to zip my lips and be thankful, and I am. But I'm doing it through tears, because I'm an emotional freak again. And it's tough.

So... that's all. My skin feels like it's going to rip open. Guess I'll try to pee.

Negativity

So yesterday was a mopey day, and I let it out a little by drawing a lion with chalk on my bumpy bedroom wall and listening to Sufjan Stevens. I planned my yoga class. It was going to be good, but then...

The lion

Then I ran into a person who was very negative. Let me tell you, people choose to be negative, and they choose to do it in order to manipulate you. Maybe they don't realize it. But I do. When I'm feeling negative, I want someone to do it with me so I don't feel as bad. I want them to agree that the world sucks and people are stupid. Even now, I want you to agree with me that this lady was stupid. But I'll stop there.

What I will tell you is that words are precious and heavy. Use them wisely. Oh, the temperature is too hot for you? Do something about it. And if you can't do something about it, decide not to drag other people into your muck.

The issue is, positivity with no root is annoying. People who say every day, "TODAY IS SUCH A GOOD DAY!!" Sometimes I'm like, "Why? Today is bad for me." I want reasons. I want someone to give me hope. So I'm trying to be specific... with expectations, hopes, prayers, complaints. Why is something good? Why is it bad? Why do you look pretty? Try complimenting someone on something specific.

Negativity impacts me though. It impacted the energy in my yoga class last night, and that pissed me off... that I allowed it to eat it's way in. Poooop.

But, I have moved on since. This morning I showed up at yoga to practice and it was just me, the teacher, and another teacher, who just so happen to be my dear friends. So we practiced for about 30 minutes, chatted the whole time, and went to coffee after. It was like letting out a deep healthy sigh of muggy morning negativity breath.

Sometimes I feel like this cat, except I don't make anyone laugh. 

Our bar tender gave us a chest of drawers. I'm on a hunt for some badass knobs to dress it up. Seriously, how nice. I love free furniture that doesn't have cat pee on it. We rearranged our bedroom a bit and put our old chest in the baby room. This afternoon Tyler and I are going to look at some recliners/comfy rocking chairs, thanks to my sisters, cousins, and aunt (cash muneeee).

Still working on the ambiance.... why are all the lights in my house yellow? I want them to be white. I think.

I have counseling at 11. Then I'm going to Connections to do some filing/copying before they move into a nicer building at the end of the month. They have been in a 100+ year old school building for all these years. The toilets are really short. You don't want to get caught in heels when you have to pee.

And I have rehearsal for Desert Voices tonight. I am really up tight when I sing. I'm scared of letting loose. It helps to sip a bit of whiskey, but I don't do that now. A lot of the songs are soulsy, and I told our lead guy that I feel like we took a choir girl and told her to sing like a Black woman. It doesn't work great. But... I'm trying.                                    

28 Weeks. It's in there, we know for sure. 

Do yourself a favor, get on Spotify, and listen to Sufjan Stevens. It's great for Fall, and every other season. I love it.

                               

Oh, and another rule for my list: Don't taint Chai Lattes with espresso or pumpkin or vanilla or anything. Just drink a Chai Latte. 

Happy Thursday, you all. 

You know those rainy dark mornings... where you just want all the lights out, maybe music playing quietly, but the sound of the rain is really what you want in your ears. You wish the sun would stay hidden so that laying on the couch all day felt right. But then the sun comes out, and all you've been is lazy. I kind of just want to freeze time, and then skip to the evening when the sun is down.

That's been Wednesdays for me. It's amazing. When I worked I'd say on Tuesday nights "Tomorrow is already Wednesday!" and now I say to Tyler "It's only Tuesday."

Ah well. Maybe because Wednesday was always my day off, something in my body is like "don't move. You've beeing moving constantly since last Wednesday."

...

Ok, I forced myself to go to yoga. I actually text messaged Rachel and said, "Tell me to go to yoga. Tell me how good I'll feel." She did. So I went.

The baby room is coming together. Slowly but surely. Registering for stuff is frustrating, because it seems that Target is always out of stock. And then I feel like a jerk for complaining about the opportunity to get free stuff from people, and whether the color will be right. All I want is a sweet baby. It can be naked. It doesn't need the right Boppy cover.

I get this email every morning about my pregnancy's status. It told me to count kicks in the morning and at night. That's like telling someone to count the movements of a tiny hip hop dancer. So, NO. I won't do that. I will just appreciate it and smile. Gosh, it's sweet.

Ange and Bob will be here this weekend with Sweet Audrey. This, I am very excited about.

I never said anything about my baby shower. It was perfect. I have a sweet family and sweet friends. We just talked and ate and drank coffee and opened presents. I cried, because it really is a super humbling thing for people to spend their hard earned money or their useful time getting/making a gift for you. And throwing a party for you. All I did was get pregnant. It's just crazy. Yes, a sweet child will come of this, but really it has nothing to do with me. Ok, it has a little bit. But, you know? Showers are just really thoughtful. I wonder if they have them in other cultures. I bet it's a 9 month party. I'm glad we don't do that.

A while ago I thought when I went into labor I'd invite all my friends over. What a fool I can be.

Ok, time to move along my day.