tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59408348975029470912024-03-14T02:00:32.392-07:00Frootloops: In the TrenchesOne family's battle with living a fuller lifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-67818427707442653082018-07-25T04:33:00.005-07:002018-07-25T04:33:57.675-07:00Finding My VoiceSometime in our early marriage, for God knows what reason, I bought in to my husband's idea that I was responsible for everything -- keeping him happy, keeping him from being triggered, not pushing him to help around the house (even though he happily did while we were dating), not pushing him to parent ...<br />
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In the last few months, I've stood against all of that and said, "No more." I'm not living in toxic bullshit anymore. I'm moving forward, and I'm choosing healthy relationships. He can choose to change and come along for the ride, or he can get the hell out of my way. We've been seeing a marriage counselor and he's actually hearing me say, "I'm not OK with you trashing me. It's abuse." He's done some work that I never thought he'd do, and that's pretty amazing. So is standing up for myself and saying, "This situation is making me feel unsafe emotionally," and having him understand that and back off.<br />
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The kids started therapy a few weeks ago. I'm hoping it helps them, but it's really too soon to tell. They do all look forward to going though.<br />
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A healthy relationship with myself is part of all of this change. I've been sabotaging my own health with over eating, eating things that I know make me feel yucky even if my taste buds like them, and not exercising a whole lot. I had been doing yoga every day, and then I stopped. <br />
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So Monday, I did a little yoga. And as I caught up on some homework yesterday, I decided that enough is enough. Today, I woke up and put on my exercise clothes, came into my office and worked out. It's 5:30 a.m. and I feel pretty good, if a bit sweaty and tired. Time to catch up on some work and get ready for the day!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-46690836640313111902018-05-06T19:18:00.002-07:002018-05-06T19:18:21.411-07:00Just when I thought life couldn't get any weirder ...It's been an interesting couple weeks since my birthday.<br />
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I started a new job the day before my birthday, and that's going well. I think. (I hope they like me as much as I think they do ...)<br />
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I started a graduate school program for nursing educations so I can teach baby nursing students in the classroom setting.<br />
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Motau started a job with UPS and passed all of his classes with B's, despite everything that's been happening with him and between us.<br />
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The 18yo started a new job, too, paying more money more consistently.<br />
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The little kids are struggling, just like I expected, and just like the rest of us. I'm trying to get them into therapy ASAP because it can only help at this point.<br />
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I went on a date with my husband last weekend. That was weird. We've dated during our marriage, so that wasn't weird. It was weird to go on one with him right now, when we're separated and unsure of the future. It was weird having him make dinner, open doors, and cater to me. He's done those things before, but definitely not when we've been fighting or not getting along.<br />
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It's weird when he comes to visit the kids at our house. It's weird to have family scriptures and prayers with him here -- the kids and I do that almost every night, but it's weird to have him join us. It's weird to have long heart-to-heart talks about why we are where we are. <br />
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It's weird to have him actually hear me.<br />
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I'm just not sure what to think of all of this. It's weird to have filed for a divorce and then have my husband decide he wants to make things work. It's weird that he's being kind to me, even after having him forcibly removed from our house.<br />
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It's also super weird to have his brother living with us still, but at least that's a nice weird, not an awkward weird.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-59879750616167238382018-04-24T16:18:00.002-07:002018-04-24T16:18:44.327-07:00They Say It's Your Birthday<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ikO4vBwNHWk" width="480"></iframe><br />
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I honestly thought today would look something like that.<br />
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Instead, I came home with my 3 little kids, and found Motau in the kitchen sweeping. It is his night to visit the children and I knew he was coming over, so I wasn't surprised he was here. He gave me a gift a few days ago, too. He'd bought a cake and balloons, fixed the vacuum, and started cleaning. He mowed the lawn yesterday and brought spooling for the weed eater today.<br />
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Phone calls, texts, messages on Facebook, a card from my new managers ...<br />
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It's been a good birthday.<br />
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It's weird that now that I've filed for divorce, he's being kinder to me than he has in months. I don't know what to do with that, but I'm enjoying today for what it is.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-2988220237257681682018-04-19T17:00:00.000-07:002018-04-19T17:00:32.175-07:00Sometimes Love Just Isn't EnoughThat's the title of a (really bad) book I loved as a youth, but couldn't figure out why love didn't fix everything. If you love someone enough, you should be able to fix the problems, right?<br />
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Today, Moe and I both went to our daughter's end of year performance. He brought his sister, which helped alleviate some of the awkwardness, and after it was over, he hugged the kids goodbye, I hugged his sister, and he waved at me with a sad smile.<br />
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It's incredibly difficult still being so in love with someone who has made choices that have made you so miserable. I know we'd both feel temporarily better if I hugged him or said I change my mind, but that wouldn't fix anything aside from this temporary heartache and loneliness.<br />
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And now I understand how sometimes love really just isn't enough.<br />
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It doesn't matter how much you love someone if they don't love themselves enough to manage an illness that is tearing apart your family. It doesn't matter how much they love you if they don't see that their behavior is destroying you. It doesn't matter how much you love each other if all you can do is fight instead of communicate. It doesn't matter how much love still exists between the two of you if all that's been there for months is rage and anger and you have both said and done things to tarnish that love.<br />
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I need to be respected, cherished, honored, trusted. I need to be liked, for Pete's sake. I'm hilarious and I need my partner to see that and enjoy me for me, not tell me I'm doing everything wrong. <br />
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I need to be seen. Not torn apart. Not destroyed. Not hurt repeatedly. Not distrusted, disrespected, dishonored. <br />
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No matter how much I love him ... I can't make him see that. I can't make him fix that. I can't make him love himself and me and the children enough to make the changes he has to make.<br />
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Love like this just isn't enough.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-49340354401227686022018-04-18T15:20:00.003-07:002018-04-18T15:20:32.654-07:00The pointlessness of WHY?I knew without a doubt when we got married that it was the right thing to do.<br />
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I have been wondering why? a lot lately, and throughout the marriage. I may not ever learn the answer to that in this life, and that's something I'm learning to make peace with.<br />
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The bishop instructed me to ask, instead, "What's next?" <br />
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When I sincerely asked that question, I knew I needed to file for divorce and find a new job with more consistency and flexibility than I currently have.<br />
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Both of those things have been done. <br />
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Last night, he came over to visit with the kids. He brought his sister to help me feel comfortable that he wouldn't be alone with them and I didn't have to stay in the same room (though I did for much of the time).<br />
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He was reasonable and kind and loving to the children, spending time with them without screens and enjoying the time he had with them.<br />
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Again, I asked WHY?<br />
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He also mentioned to me that I had been a good wife and he was sorry he didn't appreciate me, among several other things. We had a conversation that couldn't have happened weeks ago, but needed to have happened a very long time ago.<br />
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WHY?<br />
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Why did it take me filing for divorce for him to wake up and get to this point where he realizes he's losing everything? WHY did it take so long for me to grow some cojones and deal with this? Why is he now being decent, and will that change in the next few weeks?<br />
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I'm reminding myself to ask, "What's next?"<br />
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Next, I start my new job, I start grad school (that's been in the plans for months now), and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I say prayers of gratitude for the good people in my life who are striving to lift us up. I keep working on the papers and keep communication lines open so the kids can call and see their dad. I continue to love my babies, to be the woman of integrity I know I am, and make sure I'm involving God in what I do from day to day.<br />
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Right now, that also means I need to go make dinner. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-6421905961209765312018-04-15T20:51:00.000-07:002018-04-15T20:51:16.092-07:00Zomg, the ErraticaIt's been a ... difficult ... few days.<div>
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Thursday, we had court. The commissioner decided that the things I stated didn't meet the legal definition of abuse and threw out the case.</div>
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Things spiraled from there.</div>
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Meeting in public, reminding him I don't want to discuss us, him wanting to discuss us, me reminding him I've filed for divorce, 3 a.m. visits, 5 a.m. projects, not feeling safe again ... we ended up having a very good, very productive discussion with his brother-in-law (who apologized for misjudging me and said he understands our issues better now), and we have some visits set up for this week at times and places and with people around that I feel the kids will be safe.</div>
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We have a crapton of work to do to be good co-parents and make that relationship work in a way we could never make our marriage work. I hope we're able to continue to make progress.</div>
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I finally slept well Saturday night. We all slept HARD and didn't get up til almost 9 this morning. So we were late to church, but we went! The youngest stayed with me during all my classes because he's having serious separation anxiety right now, the girl child danced out of church talking about when she'll get baptized, and the oldest child at home was glad we went.</div>
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They've been able to call their dad a few times today, which I think is helping this transition as well.</div>
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We can do hard things. We can do awful, yucky, horrible things. </div>
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And we can also do fun, amazing, wonderful, and happy things. </div>
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And we will.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-56294133929684215412018-04-10T20:36:00.004-07:002018-04-10T20:42:34.842-07:00Bringing the SpiritThe first three months of the year, I was working on reading the scriptures every day before my yoga practice. It brought a measure of peace that I'd forgotten.<br />
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As things spiraled out of control with Moe more and more over the last couple of months, I let go of both of those habits.<br />
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This last weekend, I started a new goal: Five chapters in the Book of Mormon every day. I've been journaling on what I'm reading and remembering and researching, and it's helped answer some questions I've had for a long time.<br />
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With the instruction to myself to be the mom I want to be, I started reflecting on things I did when Lark was small that gave us the close bond we have. Singing nightly, going to church, being open to discussions even when I'm tired, and many more memories have started flooding back. I also worked split shifts (half while she was at school and half after she went to bed) so I could be there with her more of the time.<br />
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It's interesting to note that, when we were engaged, Moe enjoyed hearing me sing hymns to her at night, and he loved that I worked like that so I could be a better mom.<br />
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Due to the bedroom remodel, the kids' mattresses are all on the living room floor. I've been tucking them in and singing hymns until Ben goes to sleep. It makes for an incredibly peaceful bedtime, all things considered.<br />
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We're being blessed, even in the midst of this trial: The kids and Moe were super sick last month and I didn't get it (meaning I could still work), some cute friends are helping with child care so Ben can finish out his year at preschool, and I have leads on two new, more consistent and also more flexible jobs. I'll be interviewing this week. I'm also thankful for my friends in that "weird little club" who lost spouses to suicide, for their insights and wisdom, and feel very blessed to have met these amazing women, who have been supportive of the decisions I've made to keep myself and my children safe.<br />
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This is obviously not what I wanted for our marriage when we began, but it is where we are. And it sucks balls, but the kids and I will get through it. I'm not so sure about Moe, but I don't have control over his choices. Only he does, and he gets to be responsible for them. Thank God.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-21230390683625766952018-04-08T07:46:00.000-07:002018-04-08T07:46:03.131-07:00I Hate BipolarToday, things are playing in my head from things that my husband said to me and my children recently.<br />
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"Mommy's a liar, kids, did you know that?"<br />"You're not a doctor, your opinion doesn't matter. Kids, did you know Mommy is just a nurse, not a doctor?" [I'm still puzzled at how being a nurse is an insult.]<br />"You must really like tatting." [said snidely about a new hobby I'm enjoying.]<br />
"You're mean!" [because I didn't drop everything I was doing to run and get him a prescription; I was ready to go 10 minutes later, but he started a fight and told me how mean I was. Oh, and I'd already been to the store once that day for him.]<br />
"When you cuddle the kids at bedtime, it makes it harder for me to get them to bed the nights you're not here." [He hated me spending any time with them. He would be incredibly jealous and come up with "reasons" why I was parenting wrong. Incidentally, these nights are few and far between since he forced me to change jobs.]<br />
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I KNOW he was just being a hurtful, hateful asshole. And maybe the bipolar was taking over. But you know what else I know? <br /><br />
He absolutely made the choices that got us here. He chose to go off of his medications. He chose to belittle and berate me for calling the police during his last severe bipolar breakdown and told me he would never forgive me if I did it again. He absolutely chose to tell me he would never go back on medications and if I pushed him, he'd never forgive me for that either. He chose not to go to the hospital against the suggestions of therapists and his wife (who is, after all, just a nurse with no valid opinions).<br />
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He also absolutely made the choice that he would treat his bipolar with a vegan diet and tons of exercise, which lasted less than 6 months. <br />
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He made the choices that alienated my daughter whom he adopted. He made the choice to ruin our family vacation in August. <br />
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He made those choices, not me.<br />
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I do remember a time when he was proud of me for being a nurse, thrilled whenever I baked, happy to see me creating beautiful things, and respectful of my time and told me how wonderful of a mother I am.<br />
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That allllll ended sometime in the last year, and unfortunately this is the reality of our relationship now.<br />
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I deserve to be treated better than that. My children deserve to be treated better than that. And they deserve to know that the way he has chosen to treat us is not healthy and is not OK. That doesn't mean we have to hate him or be cruel in return, but the ability to stand up for ourselves is really a rather big deal. And I'm glad my children are learning the difference.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-62123564807278632592018-04-07T14:26:00.003-07:002018-04-07T14:26:35.707-07:00Be the Mom You Wanted to BeOver the last year or so, any time I showed affection or attention to the kids, I was met with scorn and derision. Comforting my crying children was the wrong thing to do, apparently.<br />
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Well.<br />
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Over the last week, I've had a lot of chances to have hard talks and give hugs and let them know we'll be OK regardless of how things turn out. I looked at my small ones' faces when we were swimming last weekend and realized how much I've missed, not entirely because of their father. Because my depression and work and things, too, but also because parenting them was not his priority. Neither was allowing me to parent them. <br />
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So today, I was fairly depressed and crying. And my sons came into the room to hug me. And reassure me. And I shook it off and said to myself, "Esther, go be the mom you've been wanting to be."<br />
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Made muffins with Ben, cleaned the kitchen with them running around, took all 3 of them to two different stores during a rainstorm, and am happy to report we mostly did all of that with smiles.<br />
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I'll let them watch a movie while I put groceries away and clean up my baking mess, then make cookies with them after dinner. Because of all the things they ask me to do with them, baking is often at the top of the list, and it's far too rainy to go to the park or any of the other stuff they wanted to do this weekend. <br />
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And I'll enjoy every minute of it. Even if they cry.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-81898058424204236222018-04-06T21:10:00.002-07:002018-04-06T21:10:31.761-07:00Tender Mercies, in the Face of Not so Tender DistressWith Moe's increasing mental instability, I changed jobs 6 months ago at his request. I'm thankful for that, because I've come to love this new job and have learned a lot. In that time, I've made friends with two other nurses whose husbands have committed suicide, bringing the total friends I have who have lost husbands this way to three. All nurses. They have been wonderful supports to me in the last few weeks.<br />
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I've been pretty angry tonight, as I found out he likely made another attempt on Sunday, had emergency surgery, and has been in the hospital again. Don't get me wrong; I'm SO glad he's getting some help. I just wish he would have sought help before he got to this point, before WE got to this point where I am choosing not to be married to him anymore. Because this whole last year has been absolutely about his choice not to treat his mental illness.<br />
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When we got married almost 12 years ago, I absolutely knew it was right that we get married. I've been wondering why a lot now, because I'm about to go through another divorce and the marriage itself has been so much less than wonderful most of the time.<br />
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I do still love him, but I'm no longer in love with him. I miss him, and yet I'm so thankful for the peace in my home now. I'm thankful that I can snuggle my children without worrying about his reaction to "coddling" them. I'm thankful that, even though single parenting is not easy, it is easier than fighting with a toxic partner constantly. I'm thankful that my children, all of them, are wonderful human beings despite all they have gone through with their dad.<br />
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I will state that, no, I do not want a divorce. I am choosing a divorce because I am choosing to put myself and my children before misery.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-74798000452883605202018-04-05T22:37:00.001-07:002018-04-05T22:37:41.170-07:00Back to BasicsA few weeks ago, before the events of the protective order, Moe and I came to terms with the fact that we were not doing well and would likely end up divorced. Moe called our bishop and told him that he was moving out. <br />
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The bishop said he couldn't tell us what to do, whether to stay in it or go our separate ways, but he did counsel us to go back to the basics as a family.<br />
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Basics. Prayers, scriptures, church attendance, time together. While the two of us were less than successful together, we were able to begin reading scriptures and praying with the children. Since I left a week ago, the children and I have had more quality time together. We spent hours swimming in the pool at our temporary home in the hotel. We've had long talks together, played games, gone for drives, watched movies, and have started remodeling the boys' room. <br />
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[Three cats can destroy a room faster than 4 children. Just sayin'.]<br />
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The children and I are currently having prayers twice a day and reading a verse of scriptures together at night, then discussing what that might mean to us today. They are getting along better together than they were before, though part of that may be attributed to the fact that there isn't a ton of fighting in the home right now, too.<br />
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I've been paying my tithing faithfully for quite some time, thankfully, though I need to still pay it from this last payday. I know we've been blessed for that -- I'm not getting as sick as the rest of the family, the bills are still able to be paid, and we still can feed the kids even though looking at the money every month things are bleak. <br />
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Basics. Love, faith, hope, trust, pixie dust.<br />
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And maybe, just maybe, peace.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-56887600264656715342018-04-05T06:02:00.000-07:002018-04-05T06:02:49.448-07:00In the interest of keeping things realFor quite a while, we were doing well. Moe was stable on meds, working a good job, I had a good job, the kids were happy and healthy ...<br />
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So Moe went off his medications.<br />
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And quit his job.<br />
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And started school.<br />
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And we're back to where we have been so many times before: On the verge of divorce.<br />
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This time is different.<br />
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This time?<br />
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My heart, my love, my passion for him are broken. There's no way to fix that at this point. I'm done.<br />
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I'm worried about my kids and how they'll handle all of this.<br />
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But while he lived here, I worried more, every single day, about how they would handle being the ones to find his body. Or witnessing his suicide. Or if he would take them from me in the night.<br />
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So today, I'm grieving. I have a protective order against a man I loved more than anyone else on this earth, but who I couldn't make happy or fix or even help. Because nothing I ever did was enough for him. Done with the threats of suicide and divorce, done with the screaming fights in front of the children, done with him cutting himself in the kitchen while they're next to him.<br />
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Done.<br />
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This is not how I imagined my life. But I'm enjoying the time I have with my babies, who are home with me today, during spring break, while I make house repairs and try to make things stable, secure, and safe at home. While I try to navigate the heartbreak, both mine and theirs, and maintain some sense of who I am. Because I know deep down I'm a good person, but that gets buried under all the years of being told I was never enough.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-65398904212621026112015-06-18T18:42:00.001-07:002015-06-18T18:45:44.020-07:00Pancit!<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: start;">As many of you know, my sweetheart is from Tonga and he often craves Tongan food, or at least something from some islands. I have a wonderful Filipino friend, Mildred, who brought Pancit (a dish of rice noodles, veggies, and chicken) to a barbeque once, and my husband almost left me for her (which would have made things awkward, since she's happily married ...) </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">A couple of friends have asked for directions on this recipe, which I learned from Mildred. She very graciously took an afternoon to teach me how to make this wonderful dish.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">This picture is not mine (because I didn't get a picture of it before my family ate it all), but it is very similar to when I make it. I did grab a few pictures while I was cooking, but didn't get the whole process. I'll do my best to describe it!</span></div>
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You can customize this to suit your tastes; my husband and I prefer more meat and veggies than the above picture, so I use a lot. <br />
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I'm not cool enough to make a printable version of this, so you're on your own there. :P</div>
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We're going to start by boiling our meat and creating the stock we'll cook everything else in. This time, I used chicken leg quarters, because that's what was cheapest. Bone-in meat gives a better flavor, but the skin adds to the fat content of the dish. I boiled them with skin on and then removed and deboned the meat. Boneless skinless thighs are easier and still have a great flavor; I usually prefer eating white meat chicken, but this dish is so much better with dark meat.</div>
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In a large stock pot, place your meat and cover with water. You're going to need 2-3 quarts of stock at the end, so don't be shy about the water. Add about 1/4 cup of GOOD dark soy sauce and 2 chicken flavored Knorr cubes. Don't use Kikkoman, it doesn't work in this recipe (we tried it once, blech). Turn on high and boil until chicken is cooked through.</div>
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While chicken is boiling, in an extremely large skillet or electric skillet, put about 2-3 Tbs of vegetable oil and heat over medium heat. Smash 6-8 garlic cloves with the flat side of a knife, peel the skin, and put them in the oil. Brown the garlic until slightly caramelized. </div>
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While waiting for the chicken and garlic to cook, we're going to cut up the rest of the veggies. </div>
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We cheat with the carrots; you'll use about half of a pound of shredded carrots. I sliced up 2 or 3 onions for this. You can add more if you like, or less if onions aren't your thing. You need some onion flavor though. Also roughly chop half a head of green cabbage and 3-4 stalks of celery.</div>
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At this point, your chicken should be done. If it's not quite cooked through, it's OK because we're going to cook it again in a minute. So pull it out to cool and let the stock cool as well.</div>
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When the garlic is starting to caramelize, add just the onion and cook until it starts to brown.</div>
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At this point, your chicken should be ready to handle. Chop it up and add it to the garlic and onions, cooking it long enough to get a little crispy brown.</div>
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When the chicken and onions and garlic are brown and delicious, start adding the other veggies, in this order: Celery, cabbage, and carrots. Then add about 2 cups of stock (this doesn't need to be measured).</div>
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Now, the stock we made should be pretty tasty, but the sweetness in the veggies sometimes reduces that flavor. After the veggies have cooked for a couple minutes, grab a spoon and taste the stock that is in the skillet. If it's not salty enough, add a little more of the dark soy sauce, then taste again. You'll need to taste again after we add the noodles, so keep some clean spoons nearby.</div>
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After the veggies have cooked 5-6 minutes and are about done, pull out about half of the contents of the skillet and set aside. It's time to add the noodles.</div>
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This brand was just what the Asian Market had; I buy whatever is cheap. Take it out of the package and, if yours has string holding it together like mine, take the string off. Put the noodles into the skillet and add more stock, about 2 cups. </div>
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This is the part I wish I had pictures of -- the noodles soak up that stock and cook in it and, as they do, the "ball" of noodles starts separating. Help them along with a large spoon. Taste the stock again and make sure it is salty enough. Add a little stock at a time (1/4 cup) until all the noodles are separated and cooked. You don't want them swimming in the liquid, but there does need to be enough so they aren't dry or sticking to the pan.</div>
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The noodles are just a long mess, so now we'll grab a pair of kitchen shears and cut them into smaller, more manageable pieces. Pull them up with a spaghetti fork and start cutting! You only need to make 10-12 cuts. Mix the noodles and meat and veggies in the pan as best you can.</div>
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Add the reserved veggies and meat to the top, serve, and enjoy!</div>
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Pancit ingredients (serves 4-8 depending on hunger)</div>
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2 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs</div>
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2 Knorr cubes, chicken flavor</div>
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Dark soy sauce</div>
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6-8 cloves garlic</div>
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2-3 onions</div>
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4-6 stalks celery</div>
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1/2 head of cabbage</div>
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matchstick carrots</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-68851881003344410222015-06-16T08:00:00.003-07:002015-06-16T08:00:43.488-07:00That Magic SpotSo, when I was working out hard a couple of years ago, I never lost a pound. I was lifting heavy (could squat 135 pounds, which was amazing for a fat 30-something woman) and was hungry all the time. So even though I was burning calories like crazy, I was also eating a LOT. <br />
<br />
Here's a vulnerable thing: I have binge eating disorder. So my previous pattern while working out was eating well for a day or two, and then bingeing (up to 5000 calories in one day) for a day or two, or a week. It was impossible to make progress with losing weight. Over the last year, I've been much more aware of what I'm eating because I worked with a health and nutrition coach at the school during fall semester. So the binges got fewer and farther between, until I really wasn't cyclical bingeing anymore.<br />
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That's why, when I decided to start making changes this year, I started with my diet.<br />
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I started adding veggies and fruits to get 3-5 servings a day. This has been made easier with Thrive freeze dried foods, because they don't go bad before I get to them. (If you need a consultant, let me know, I have an amazing one.)<br />
<br />
Then after I had added more fruits and veggies, I started weaning off of Pepsi. I'm completely and totally addicted to it, and I know soda isn't really all that great for my body. So I started weaning off of it. I have about 8-12 ounces every 3 days now, which is much better than 32-64 ounces a DAY.<br />
<br />
After I had a better handle on the Pepsi, I started tracking my caloric intake. I use an app from loseit.com , where you can plug in your goals and it gives you a daily calorie target, and I started actually measuring foods. Half a cup of cold cereal is a lot less than most people think. I haven't worried so much about WHAT I'm eating as much as exactly how much I'm eating. If I want a cupcake, I'm going to eat a cupcake, as long as I'm staying within my calories and eat plenty of fruits, veggies, and protein.<br />
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The first few days were the hardest, and they weren't even that bad. After I successfully stayed at or just under my calorie target for a week, I started exercising again. At that point, I double checked my basic metabolic rate with the calorie counter from iifym.com to make sure I was getting enough but not too many calories. <br />
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The last few days have been rough on an emotional level for me. I've wanted to binge, but I haven't. And I'm so proud of myself for that. I skipped yesterday's workout but did it today, and will count yesterday as my rest day. <br />
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I am not working out so much that I am STARVING all the time, and I'm still able to stay within my calorie range. It's what I'm calling that magic spot, because I'm getting stronger, my muscles are getting more defined, the fat is melting off of me, and I feel satisfied and full. It really is like Magic.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-3279300403152437732015-06-13T18:40:00.003-07:002015-06-13T18:40:21.715-07:00Not to jinx myself or anything ...I'm working out again and rather enjoying it.<br />
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It started a few weeks ago, when the teen and I went to an event where we had to climb about 95 flights of stairs without stopping (OK, it was more like ... 4 very tall flights). We got to the top, sat down for a short presentation, and I ... well, the thought that flashed through my mind was, "Great. I'm going to pass out. The only nurse in the room, and I'm going to pass out."<br />
<br />
I was having a hard time catching my breath. My breathing was so labored and noisy that I couldn't even hear the speaker.<br />
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About the time I caught my breath, it was time to go down all those stairs again. Going down was much easier, but I was still a bit short of breath at the bottom.<br />
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I knew I was out of shape. It did not hit me until that day just how not in shape I was. Even though I'd worked with an awesome health coach over the course of last fall semester, and even though I knew it was hard keeping up with some of my nurses, and even though I'm in the biggest size I've ever worn in my life. I didn't realize how bad off I was.<br />
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I started by trying to eat less. I'm not sure if it worked, because I wasn't keeping track. But I was much more aware of what I was putting into my mouth.<br />
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At swimming lessons with my kids the last two weeks, I've been in the pool with the toddler for half an hour a day, helping him swim. I remembered how much I love swimming, and if someone at the pool is going to judge me for being fat and wearing a bathing suit, they can go to hell. I LOVE swimming and my kids love it and we get to have fun together, regardless of what other people might think of my body!<br />
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The same two weeks, I discovered some free kettlebell workouts that I love, and did them 5 or 6 times over the course of those same two weeks. I've gone walking instead of bingeing when my emotions are out of control. And I started tracking my calories with an app on my phone. <br />
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All of this started one step at a time. <br />
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I've tracked calories here and there, and I've worked out HARD for quite a while, and I've gone walking and played with my kids and ... something is different this time. Something inside me said, "No more! You ARE taking care of you, or you won't be around much longer!"<br />
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Those kettlebell workouts on Youtube are done by the couple behind Fitness Blender. So I signed up for their free website and free smart phone app, and got started this week with an 8-week fat loss program. I'm surprised I can type today because I did a brutal upper body workout this morning! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's workout, and the day after that and the day after that ... because you know what? I deserve to feel good about myself and feel good physically!<br />
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As of yesterday, I am 15 pounds below my highest weight (pregnant or not, it was the same). I still have a long road ahead, but I'm on my way.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-64236821129852473372015-06-04T18:49:00.000-07:002015-06-04T18:50:38.355-07:00Shame, Shame, ShameI was scrolling through my Facebook feed today and came across a post from a friend who linked a recipe to a dessert. Two friends commented it looked good. The third? "Fattening ladies ..." with a passive-aggressive smiley face.<br />
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Sorrynotsorry, that triggered something in me. <br />
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So I replied.<br />
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"Eat a cookie. It won't kill you. Or make you fat. Eating more calories than you burn is what is fattening. Sure, there are more nutrient dense foods to eat, but uh ... it is possible to lose weight or maintain a healthy weight and be fit and still have the damn cookie."<br />
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Because I'm at a point in my life where I just have to say: STOP THE SHAMING. Who gives a rat's ass if someone else decides to eat a cookie? Really? If you have that much time to worry about other people's food choices, you have far bigger issues with your life.<br />
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Food shaming, fat shaming, behavior shaming, parents shaming other parents, parents shaming their children ... it all really amounts to the same thing: It is all bullying. And it needs to stop. Now.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-79985925024303635692015-05-26T13:17:00.001-07:002015-05-26T13:17:18.304-07:00What would you do?This post is NOT about general gun rights or concealed permits. It is about when to say, "This is no longer safe."<br />
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I'm acquainted with an elderly man who owns several guns and has a concealed carry permit. He bonds with family members over weapons and safes and target practice for recreation. These guns are not used to hunt to provide food for the family.<br />
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When he first started collecting, he made sure they were put away in the gun safe and that the gun safe was locked and everyone was safe. <br />
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Things have changed.<br />
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He has had dementia for several years, and it is progressing. His decline has come with cognitive deficits and he now sometimes forgets to close the safe ... and/or the garage where the safe is ... which means the guns and ammunition are accessible to anyone in the neighborhood -- children, criminals, depressed people, whoever. He has frequent visitors to his home, including children, one of whom is very curious and has cognitive delays. <br />
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In the last few months, he has unknowingly misplaced at least two of his weapons, which were located by family members who share his home. One was a loaded handgun, found on the floor of the garage. The other was a rifle. He didn't miss the loaded handgun for a couple of days and still has no idea the rifle is not in the safe (although he misplaced it and then went out of town and is not home yet).<br />
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This person has expressed his own concern when he has learned that people with mental illness have owned guns, but if anyone suggests that his gun ownership might not be safe anymore, he perceives that as an attack on him as a person. Not on the disease that is taking over his brain. He very much has emotional ties to his perception of himself as a safe gun owner and cannot view this problem from a rational perspective.<br />
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This is beyond gun rights: This is a safety and liability issue. It is worse than if a gun owner doesn't have a safe -- he counts on the fact that everything is locked up, but he is not really locking them up. If someone were to come across that open safe and steal one (or all) of the weapons registered to his name and later use that weapon to commit a crime, he would have some liability. So would his wife. One of the small children who visits his home could unintentionally kill themselves or someone else.<br />
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If this was your father, brother, uncle, grandpa, friend, when would you say enough is enough? And how would you facilitate the change and still allow him to have his dignity?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-4155609913313970262015-05-23T16:34:00.000-07:002015-05-23T19:31:53.671-07:00What I Have in Common with the DuggarsBefore I start, I offer this disclaimer: I have only ever seen a few episodes of their TLC show and I don't have strong opinions about the family in general. I am Christian but I don't necessarily agree with their politics or their specific belief system, and they likely do not agree with mine.<br />
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The world is talking about Josh Duggar and his sins (the ones we know about anyway) and his victims (again, the ones we know about). Some stand in support of Josh and his parents and their decisions, and many are appalled at the cover up and the apparent lack of help provided to the victims. I'm hearing a lot of judgment and not much compassion for an awful, awful situation, for any of the parties involved (parents, Josh, victims).<br />
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Since the story broke, I've been fighting with myself about whether to say anything about my story or not. I finally decided to break the silence, in the hope of helping some of those who are so judgmental (on either side of the issue) understand there is so much more here than Josh OR his victims OR their parents seemingly choosing their son over their daughters. It is ALL of them and so much more.<br />
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*taking a deep breath and hoping I don't puke when I hit publish*<br />
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Thirty-something years ago, I was the victim of child-on-child molestation. I had two different perpetrators in my childhood, one related to me and one not related to me. It actually happened over a few years, in two different states. My parents had no idea any of this happened at the time, and until I hit publish on this thing, I'm not even sure my dad was ever told about any of the sexual abuse I suffered as a child. I don't know where the non-relative ended up in life, but I do know where the relative is.<br />
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Here's the thing:<br />
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This relative has apologized to their victims and done what the perpetrator felt necessary to make things right. They have gone on to have a productive life and sought counseling as an adult. I firmly believe that the children born to this person are in no danger of sexual abuse from their parent. [edit: I don't believe any child is in danger from this person, but the focus has been on Josh and his children and whether they are in danger, so that is what I focused on while writing this piece.]<br />
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Like my relative, Josh apologized to his victims. Whether you agree with his politics or not, he has a job, he provides for his family, and he has done what he felt necessary to move on with his life. Maybe he still needs counseling, but he has tried to own up to his sins.<br />
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Here's the other thing:<br />
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As an adult, THIRTY YEARS LATER, this past abuse still has affected me. I have been through a LOT of therapy over the years, and the trauma was still there. It affected my relationship with my abuser, during every interaction we had. I didn't know why I was so angry at that person, because they did apologize at some point in my adulthood and I did forgive them, but the trauma was STILL there. Thirty-something years later. <br />
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Because forgiveness doesn't mean the past is erased or that the hurt is gone, or that you trust them and feel safe with them. All it means is that you are *willing* to cease to feel resentment against your offender -- it doesn't mean that happens overnight or anything else we sometimes think forgiveness means. (Someday soon, I'll post about why forgiveness and trust are separate issues.)<br />
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When you believe you have forgiven someone who has hurt you so undeniably and indescribably, it is absolutely devastating to wake up one day and realize that the things someone did to you so long ago are still affecting your sexuality and your decisions and the way you respond to your spouse both in and out of the bedroom and the way you interact with and interpret the world. <br />
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One of the difficulties with child-on-child familial sexual abuse lies in the fact that the family still loves both the perpetrator and the victim and wants everyone to be happy and together. And sometimes it's hard to see what to do when you love both of those people so much. <br />
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However, expecting the victim to have a relationship with their perpetrator can cause more problems than people realize ... problems for both the victim and the perpetrator, because the relationship is so complex, so incomprehensible, and can be so destructive, even if that is not the way either party wishes it could be. And continuing that relationship is something that my abuser expected of me for years, until I finally cracked and walked away.<br />
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Oftentimes, the family pushes the issue of continuing the relationship for the sake of convenience and "keeping the peace." The Duggar parents' decision to keep law enforcement out of it necessitated Josh's victims seeing him every day, and gave him opportunities to continue the abuse. They eventually sent him away for several months, although personally I don't think that would have been long enough, especially without intensive therapy for Josh AND all of his victims. However, it did give them a break from seeing their abuser every day. <br />
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In the process of walking away, I hurt my abuser, too. Not something I'm proud of. But the distance has been absolutely necessary for my sanity.<br />
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I've been in therapy for a long time now, with an amazing therapist. I'm not ready to face my abuser yet, and they aren't ready to deal with me either. And that's totally OK. We may never have a relationship again. Or, someday, both of us might get to a point where we can talk and move past our trauma. Either way really is OK. <br />
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The Duggar girls ... I would hope that, at this point, they have the freedom to set the parameters of whatever relationship they have with Josh, whether that means they have no relationship or there is distance or what have you. Because it really needs to be on their terms in order for them to feel safe and heal.<br />
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I'm not posting this story to single out my abuser or embarrass anyone. <br />
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I'm posting this because I believe that the Duggar parents love their daughters just as much as they still love their son, just as my family still loves me and my abuser. <br />
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The Duggars were faced with a tragic situation and they made the decisions they felt were best, even if a large portion of the rest of the world disagrees with their decisions. From everything I've heard, his therapy and his victims' therapy was likely woefully inadequate. I sincerely hope that Josh is at a place in his life where his children are safe. It is completely and entirely possible, especially since he confessed to his wife long before they even got married. If he was still harboring intent to harm, he likely would have kept it a secret.<br />
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So yes. I have something in common with the Duggars: The girls who were Josh's victims. I am 100% sure they still love their brother just as I still love my relative. I am also certain the hurt isn't gone, not completely. The pain may be simmering beneath the surface, and they may not even be aware it exists. I hope the girls do seek out the counseling and therapy they are going to need throughout their lives, and I hope that they are able to release the trauma before it explodes and before 30 years have passed. And if not, I hope they are able to be strong enough to take the steps necessary for them to heal and that their family supports their decisions, because they are all going to need love, support, compassion, and empathy ... even Josh.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-56184053178943285472014-07-05T20:55:00.000-07:002014-07-05T20:55:13.497-07:00Nail Biters, UNITE!I have a secret.<br />
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I used to bite my nails.<br />
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All throughout my childhood until I was a teenager, when a mishap broke off my front tooth. My mom took me to the dentist, and they put on a cap. Biting my nails just never "felt" right after that. (Other nail biters will understand this.)<br />
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Even after that, for years, I did bite my cuticles. Fingers always in my mouth. It was gross. They were cracked and bled and it was so embarrassing.<br />
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Here's a beautiful thing: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ioxPexyydiUvIQLfSrw1-Wv9IRuUhBcIzcq9ePcONqIXgkkp0y2hp-fFO_Wt4wukRu1sVYov1WQ1fVrbHI4eTt5i9HXHTTicmI6N0_PC4iWZvsSAsjvcBQj09JYz_7DmY4bL9jDy4cST/s1600/my+nails+after+8+days.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ioxPexyydiUvIQLfSrw1-Wv9IRuUhBcIzcq9ePcONqIXgkkp0y2hp-fFO_Wt4wukRu1sVYov1WQ1fVrbHI4eTt5i9HXHTTicmI6N0_PC4iWZvsSAsjvcBQj09JYz_7DmY4bL9jDy4cST/s1600/my+nails+after+8+days.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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That's after wearing Jamberry wraps for a few weeks. Can you see how healthy my cuticles are? How long my nails (except the thumb) are? Never happened before Jams.<br />
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Here's some pictures of fellow nail biters.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9pcfnAmLYT5SfVm6PllTnu0lnc_SfUXGETc95lDuvoqBn7L_YvJtBzbtBWA2y39UEkpzempSzFdF_sO7X2xGrQ9_sRCWs00Qz1HTExgoTU6SaQ_yXpWnZCMXIJ29T59CPsCue7cJAVWT/s1600/holly+after+50+years+of+biting+nails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9pcfnAmLYT5SfVm6PllTnu0lnc_SfUXGETc95lDuvoqBn7L_YvJtBzbtBWA2y39UEkpzempSzFdF_sO7X2xGrQ9_sRCWs00Qz1HTExgoTU6SaQ_yXpWnZCMXIJ29T59CPsCue7cJAVWT/s1600/holly+after+50+years+of+biting+nails.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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That is a friend, who had been biting her nails for 50 years. After 2 weeks, she took off her Jams ... and started biting her nails again. They went right back on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSt3UBFbGgsEihRlH0AU1UqMVe_k4jTJHlEmavoJcbW25VE1aRDOTGeh8843FgU5uoCo03Rq0Iowj0QdDrAclu_x7PLUENjBle7NQor7Hpkg2nR3p7eu8FcsvA0vGqCJP0HctA_hSY-Flt/s1600/bobbie's+friend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSt3UBFbGgsEihRlH0AU1UqMVe_k4jTJHlEmavoJcbW25VE1aRDOTGeh8843FgU5uoCo03Rq0Iowj0QdDrAclu_x7PLUENjBle7NQor7Hpkg2nR3p7eu8FcsvA0vGqCJP0HctA_hSY-Flt/s1600/bobbie's+friend.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Do you see how amazing that is? Same hand, just a couple weeks apart.<br />
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On the left is day one, but technically she's been wearing samples for a little while. On the right is day 34. FIVE weeks! <br />
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Can you see how all of their cuticles look so much healthier after just a few weeks? <br />
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Jamberry nail wraps change lives more than just financially. Wraps can free you from embarrassment about your nails and hands. I know that sounds silly to some of you. But to those who bite their nails or chew their cuticles, it can change your life and that embarrassing habit can go fly a kite. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-80418117313789851362014-06-17T21:10:00.000-07:002014-06-17T21:10:18.023-07:00Let's talk Jamberry<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp70GMFI2NLSqUUz2jJhY3QFCZIq-VuBMx9nrI0fGOU101jJpYo-dG1NBDzgwr_HFUvmcxf1OLB-yQYYZrcrUohQMEc42mOVDakpQLpdtB7ZJaG9_9NrXvRyF64CaJ4T0645NxLm6jKZBp/s1600/One+More+Model.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp70GMFI2NLSqUUz2jJhY3QFCZIq-VuBMx9nrI0fGOU101jJpYo-dG1NBDzgwr_HFUvmcxf1OLB-yQYYZrcrUohQMEc42mOVDakpQLpdtB7ZJaG9_9NrXvRyF64CaJ4T0645NxLm6jKZBp/s1600/One+More+Model.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Rock hasn't worked now in 11 months. I am working a part-time job doing medical reports again, started about a month ago, and that is going all right. I also started selling Jamberry about a month ago.<br />
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First, a little explanation. Jamberry nail wraps are vinyl wraps that are applied to your nails with heat and pressure. They are utterly adorable, last a long time without chipping, and I love having pretty nails. But if you know me pretty well, you might wonder what changed my mind into doing direct sales ever again.<br />
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In March, it seemed like about 10 of my online friends (who all know each other) all signed up at once. I hadn't even heard of them before and thought at the time, "Huh. Wonder what that's about." I quickly got overwhelmed with all of the Jamberry activity on my facebook feed and tuned it out. <br />
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Then. I saw Dr. Who wraps. Kiddo LOVES Dr. Who. I bought some of those. A good friend did a pedicure on me with HER wraps that she had bought around the same time in March. And another friend who sells them made an offer I couldn't refuse -- a sale. <br />
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I tried them. I fell in love. And there was no way in hell I was going to sign up to sell them. End of story.<br />
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Except, the one who offered the sale ... I know her, have known her online for about 6 years. And she mentioned how much she'd made the previous month. Knowing a bit about her, I thought, "Oh gosh ... if she can do this and make that kind of money, so can I." Especially because of the training that she and my sponsor have given me.<br />
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It's been a month. I am hitting milestones, landing my goals, making money, and having fun. <br />
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About 2 weeks in, I had the thought that, "Who would have thought stupid nail wraps would be an answer to a prayer?" And then? One of my recruits said the exact same thing about a week after that. <br />
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I'm grateful for the opportunity. I love these things, and I am way excited about them! I will never be offended if a friend tells me no or chooses not to buy this product or whatever. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-18358913329012722872014-04-12T18:18:00.003-07:002014-04-12T18:18:35.244-07:00Stuff my kids have ruined1. Little Mister broke my camera right after Cat was born in 2010. I have very few pictures of Cat from the first couple years of her life. She was absolutely beautiful, still is. Someday, she'll hate me for the lack of photos of her gorgeous self.<br />
2. My VAIO. Little Mister stepped on it, cracking the screen. It still worked, so we limped along. Then someone dumped something on the keyboard, and in an effort to clean it, *I* actually broke the space bar. Then! Little Mister tried to put it on my bed one day, threw it, and missed the bed completely. The screen went from one small crack line to 1/3 of the screen not being viewable. By this time, it needed an external keyboard as well, so we used it as a desktop for quite a while. Until Cat decided the cord would make a good jump rope a few months ago. It no longer turns on.<br />
3. A portable DVD player I bought right before my heart surgery. Now, that sucker lasted for years, but at one point, Little Mister knocked it off the TV and the screen broke partway off of the DVD playing part, but the connections still worked so it still played ... until the last couple weeks, when the power cord gave up.<br />
4. Another camera. They got it down and stepped on it while it was in the case. I have no idea who did this.<br />
5. My recliner. We bought it (with the help of parents) when LM was born and I needed to nurse a lot. After Cat was born, LM decided it made a good trampoline and jumped in it until the springs in the seat snapped. <br />
6. My phone, with camera. Cat must have thought it looked like an Oreo, because she gave it a good dunking in a cup. Dead.<br />
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There are more -- grease paints all over an unfinished cabinet, fingernail polish all over carpets and vinyl flooring, chalk painted onto the front door ... But you get the idea: KIDS BREAK STUFF.<br />
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There are all kinds of photos around the internet of things kids ruin. I did not take photos of any of these things, because my kids are evil geniuses, and #1, #4, and #6 prevented me from getting photographic proof.<br />
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What most of the websites and photos don't address is this: I wouldn't trade any of the children for any of these objects. The teen makes me insane, the 5yo is hyper and talks nonstop, the 3yo is destructive on a milder scale (breaking lots of little things like markers and pencils, or coloring all over the house, not destroying big-ticket items), and the baby is an attention hog. But I love them all and am ever so thankful they are in my life. Even when I want to throw everything we own away and start all over.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-46064506970625202612014-04-02T00:30:00.001-07:002014-04-02T00:30:07.929-07:00The baby and the mama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He's so cute.</div>
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That is all.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-496446400436123132014-02-20T06:38:00.002-08:002014-02-20T07:58:00.087-08:00I really did hurt. Still do.I didn't get up yesterday to get the gym. My sons were in bed with me, climbing all over me and wanting to snuggle, and I was too sore and tired to get out of bed. So ... yeah. <br />
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Sitting in classes all day was rough -- the longer I sat, the worse I hurt. I did walk around the building on my lunch break and felt a little better. I would have gone twice but it was getting cold and raining and my hoodie has mysteriously disappeared (probably into the teen's room). But I had 3-1/2 hours of lecture left after that ... plus driving ... I got very sore again. Took another Epsom salt bath, which was interrupted when the fighting children woke up the sleeping baby. <br />
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I was still sore when we got up this morning, but I went to the gym anyway. Moving and lifting again helped me feel less sore, which I knew would be the case but it's hard to make yourself do it when you are in recovery.<br />
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It's interesting ... I know if I'd been more consistent the last few months, I would be seeing more/better results. There's a lot of mind game stuff going on when you are on a journey to change your life. Part of me still expects that after a good workout, I should have lost 10-15 pounds or something. Logically, I know that's not how this works. But part of my brain says, "Boo! Go eat all the chocolate!" <br />
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Today, I'm just glad that, even though I can't quite lift what I was doing last fall, I can still lift a lot more than I could when I started out last spring. I know eventually my body will get used to doing this again. Last spring/summer, it only took a few weeks to get to the point where I didn't hurt after a workout anymore, even when I pushed like I did Tuesday. I'm hoping it is soon!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-13643706605580138432014-02-18T18:12:00.000-08:002014-02-18T18:12:15.921-08:00I am going to hurt tomorrow.After several months of not consistently working out or lifting weights, basically only doing some cardio and not even regularly, I made it back to the gym today. (That's 2 days in a row; I can't remember the last time I did that.) And today, I lifted. Not as heavy as I'd been lifting before, but heavy enough. <br />
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Except, it wasn't enough.<br />
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I kept pushing and adding weights until I realized I have to walk tomorrow and deal with school and tiny desks and giant backpacks and homework and ... yeah ... um. Dumb. <br />
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I did stop way before I hit my personal records for weights, and I'm sure it looked like I was wimping out. But man, I was feeling it before I hobbled out of the gym. I'm feeling it more now, even after an epsom salt bath. But it is a good hurt!<br />
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Here's the thing: I don't really get a runner's high from cardio. I realized today, I get high from lifting. I LOVE IT. Add more weight, do another set, keep going. It is what I enjoy the most when it comes to formal exercise.<br />
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I hope I get some sleep tonight so I can be at the gym at 5 tomorrow to do HIIT again before classes. <br />
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Speaking of classes ... I need to find a play to watch this weekend. *bad word* Since our whole family was sick, I missed opportune moments and have a paper due next week for my theater class. Wheee. I also have 3 exams next week, so that's going to be way too much fun! There's a meme going around facebook about how every week feels like finals week in nursing school. It's more like every other week at this point, but I'm only on week 6 or 7 ... so ... we'll see how things pan out.<br />
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Must get some rest tonight. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5940834897502947091.post-36942826253866924702014-02-17T09:53:00.004-08:002014-02-17T09:53:57.104-08:00Happy Monday!No school today. We're all thrilled with that fact!<br />
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I told The Rock yesterday that I absolutely have to make some big changes because I am tired of being tired and fat and in pain. He, like always, said, "I support you in that." But sometimes, the follow through and helping with the kids doesn't compute. <br />
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So last night before bed, he asked what time I wanted to go to the gym today. "um, 6-ish." He said that was a good idea, since we don't have school. It would let me sleep in a little bit. Then he also said, "Hey, I can take the kids to school on Tuesday and Thursday so you can go to the gym during that time." Which is what we USED to do, but this term things changed, so I haven't been able to. Well. About 4-ish Little Mister climbed in bed with me because he had a bad dream, and ... that was that. I didn't get out to the gym.<br />
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Instead of getting grouchy or mad about it, I just decided to go later. When The Rock saw the boy in the bed, he said, "I know you're not going right now. Please make sure you go later, OK?" Heck yeah, thanks for supporting me for real!<br />
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So I really did get to the gym.<br />
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I'm still doing baby steps to get to where I want to be as far as conditioning, strength, and endurance go. Eventually, I'd like to be able to run 5 miles nonstop. I'm not sure I'm crazy enough to do a marathon or an ultra like my cousin ... So I did HIIT today -- five 1-minute runs, walking 2 minutes in between. I am energized but also tired, and the fatigue in my body is different than the pains I get when I'm more sedentary.<br />
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Today, I'm going to plan my lifting for tomorrow, and I will be at the gym at 8 in the morning. I just have to buckle down and do it. End of story.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0