The Divine Calling of Motherhood

It's late. I need to be in bed right now, but the pull to write is stronger than the pull of my night time meds, so .... here I am.

Tonight didn't go exactly how I thought it would. After a family BBQ for memorial day at my in-laws home we miraculously pulled off an 8:30 bedtime for the kids. A half hour late on bedtime on a holiday is a win in my book. Usually after the kids go to bed my husband and I bury ourselves in some good ol' Netflix and have some much needed, kid-less, alone time. Tonight however, we looked at each other, and were like, "Nah. Let's go to bed instead." We were still a little 'binge watching hungover' from the night before when we stayed up past two in the morning to finish the final episodes of our current show. (side note: isn't finding a new show to binge the friggin' worst?!) Anyway, so the hubs is in bed by nine. Kids in bed? Check. Hubby in bed? Check. Nine? Me? No way! If this isn't the perfect opportunity to read my book than I don't know what is. Quiet, peaceful, alone-time reading... ahhhh.... bliss.

About twenty minutes into my reading sesh I hear the kid's bedroom door crrrrrreak open. Oh crap. The three year old is going to refuse to go to bed.... again! Then I hear the sniffles. Nope. Not my feisty three year old but instead, my sensitive tender six year old trying to hold back tears. He rounds the corner and sees me in the living room and immediately starts crying. I pull him into a hug and it takes a moment or two for him to choke out the words that he is scared and can't sleep. I grab his B and tell him to take my phone and watch funny videos on Youtube (the kid is a AFV junkie!) to try and get his mind off of the scary stuff while I read my book. We cuddle on the couch that way for a while longer. When I tell him its time to try bed again he starts to blink tears but is trying really hard to be brave. We go into his room and I tuck him into bed and then the crying starts. Except its not from him it is now from the three year old who was just so rudely woken up. Great. Bedtime for mom is getting farther away and yeah, remember how I am already exhausted AND took my night time pills already? Cue eye roll here.

So I sit on the floor next to her bed and stroke her hair but she is MAD and seriously not having it. So I grab my phone and turn on kids lullabies on Spotify. She calms down enough to listen to the music and looking over at my other kid, I can tell he is still struggling with scary thoughts. All I can do at this point is plop my butt into the rocking chair and listen to lullabies while hopefully my children calm down their nerves and fall asleep.

I love my rocking chair. It's big and cozy and absolutely wonderful. I have spent a lot of late nights in that chair. I do some of my deepest thinking in that chair.

Tonight, rocking back and forth, listening to the most beautiful piano music, watching my kids eyelids grow heavy, I pondered on motherhood. Have you ever felt guilty for not loving motherhood like you think you should? I constantly feel that. Being a mom to these kids is my divine purpose, I truly believe that. So how come I don't enjoy it more? How come, instead of delighting in being a mom, I so often feel drudgery instead? I love my kids to the moon and back again, you should know that. However, that doesn't mean that motherhood has been easy on me. I look at other women and they just thrive as moms. They are in their element. They are the Pinterest moms. The mommy bloggers and vloggers. The ones who go above and beyond on every single holiday including national pie day. The moms who can pop out six kids, no problem-o. (Like, they actually like being pregnant) I had a friend who didn't go on a date with her husband for the entire first year of her son's life because she couldn't bear to be away from him. I went on an anniversary weekend getaway when my son was only two months old. Some moms are SO happy with this homeschooling/quarantine crap because they get more time with their kids. I literally booked myself an airbnb for a long weekend just so I could be alone. No joke.  I have often wondered if there is something fundamentally wrong with me and my feelings about mom life.

So these are the thoughts I am thinking as I am rocking and longing to be in my bed instead. And then..... something happened. The song "You'll be in my heart" from Tarzan started to play. It was just piano music but the lyrics ran through my head. I looked over at the sleeping forms of my children, and was immediately filled with so much peace. There was so much peace in the room it was almost tangible. I wish there was a better word than peace. Peace doesn't seem to do the feeling justice, but its the best word I have. There is something magical that happens when you watch your child drift off to sleep. I can't explain it, but it's the best feeling in the world. The feeling of pride in what you have created. The feeling of a love you never knew existed. The feeling of home and family and eternity all wrapped up in one. They are so precious, these little heaven sent angels of mine.

So maybe I don't get overjoyed with the day to day drudgeries of motherhood. But I DO delight in the bond that I feel for them. That everlasting bond that can't be broken. That is a beautiful thing. I may not be the best mom in the world, but I am a pretty damn good one. (but maybe not tomorrow morning because it's already 1:00 am haha.)

Endings and New Beginnings

There is a tornado of emotions swirling within me right now. I am approaching my last two weeks of being pregnant and struggling with all of the feelings that accompany that. There is a very good chance that this is the last time in my life that I will ever be pregnant again, so there's that. Although I do not like being pregnant, I understand and am eternally grateful for how lucky I am to have the ability to be pregnant so easily without any complications or years and years of waiting for it to happen. I can definitely appreciate the miracle that growing and carrying a baby inside of you is. This baby girl of mine is a wiggle worm and I know in my heart that I am going to miss that feeling. To be able to feel something so precious is something too sacred to put into words. So yes, I am going to miss this. But there is also a feeling of excitement and anticipation to meet her. An anxiousness to finally have her in my arms and a real, tangible part of our family.

There is also this overwhelming feeling of guilt I feel for my first born. Being a second child myself, I am a little confused by this feeling, but it is there all the same. Will Leland be okay? I find myself asking this question at least a million times a day. Its been him and I for so long now, almost four years. We are best buddies. How will a second child change the dynamic between us? How much jealousy will he feel towards his baby sister when mom is having to give her so much of her time and energy? Will he digress? Will my relationship with my son change for the worse? Everyone tells me that it somehow just works. That your love as a mother is not divided, but multiplied. I pray they are right. I pray that Leland is strong enough to handle all of this change that is headed his way. It seems like a lot to ask of a three year old. I find myself lately craving to be near Leland, to soak up these last few precious moments I have alone with him. For some reason I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye to this time of our lives, but that only makes me feel guilty towards my second child. This mom guilt thing is a terrible feeling, like neither of my children can both win.

And there is that dreaded feeling of fear. A fear that is so overpowering it threatens to wash me away completely. The beast is coming. I know it is. I may have better tools to fight it this time, but it is coming nonetheless.  It is unavoidable, that beastly monster of depression that comes after birth. Postpartum depression is a foul, loathsome, demon that haunts me even before it has arrived. It nearly tore my marriage apart last time. What horrors will it have in store for me this time? There is nothing but dread in the pit of my stomach when I think about this. Can my family afford to have this creature of darkness enter our home? Are we strong enough?

Some how we will all make it through the next few months in one piece. There will be a day in the future when I come back to read this blog and laugh at myself for being such a worry wart and for not having more faith. At least, I have hope for that day anyway. I am nervous to have a newborn again. I am anxious thinking about the long nights with no sleep. I worry about my son. I am scared for postpartum depression. I am excited to meet this baby girl. I am slightly concerned about the medical bills headed our way. I am a million different emotions in one very tired and very pregnant body. So I sit at my computer in the middle of the night, too stressed out to sleep, and I type it all out. And somehow, I feel better.

Twenty-nine

This month I have been celebrating me. Is that narcissistic? I don't think it really counts if its your birthday month. I have had a few people ask me how I feel about entering my last year of my twenties. It has made me reflect on my twenties, and honestly, I am not sad to see them go. While thirty does seem a tad too far on the adult side for my taste, I am perfectly fine with being twenty-nine. I used to hate birthdays, and I still do hate parts of birthdays, but for the most part, I enjoy them. I think birthdays are far better when you feel like you are settled in life, do you know what I mean? Like, I suppose I would feel completely different if I was 29 years old and living in my parent's basement playing video games all day, having accomplished nothing in my life. But I haven't wasted my twenties. I went to a few years of college. I made some amazing, lifelong friends. I got married. I had a kid. We bought a house. I work. Life is grand, really. And I am excited to see what the next chapter of my life looks like.

This year I think I celebrated my birthday for two weeks long. In fact, I am not even done celebrating as we haven't gotten the chance to have a Palmer family dinner yet. My wonderful, amazing mother took me and Leland for a three day excursion to Mesquite. My grandparents live just ten minutes away so they were kind enough to watch the kiddo so my mom and I could go to two productions at the Tuacahn, the most amazing outdoor theater in the world. This year we saw Peter Pan and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. They were both amazing, completely different, but absolutely spectacular. We also got to have a much needed pool day where my brave son went down the water slide all by himself and even swam in the pool without me holding him up- he just had on his wings. I love seeing him get braver and braver in the water, he is such a little fish! Anyway, it was a fast, but fun little get-away and much needed mommy and me time (and I am not talking about me and Leland haha.) A girl always needs her mom am I right?

For my birthday weekend Justin and I invited two families from our neighborhood to go to my parent's cabin in Bear Lake. We had never done anything with other families before, I felt like it was a big stepping stone into adulthood for us. We had so much fun playing games, watching movies, going to the beach, and riding four-wheelers. It was especially fun because each family has a son around Leland's age and the boys got along fantastically. My mom always told me that my friends would be my kid's friends parents- she was right- like always. I am glad that we found them and that we all get along so well. Hopefully we can do more with them in the future.

Remember that part that I hate on my birthdays? Well, that part is Facebook. I hate Facebook on my birthday. Hopefully I am not alone in feeling this way. I feel kind of selfish for even saying anything, but honestly, its the worst! The worst I tell you! For one day of the year I have friends and family coming out of the wood works to wish me a happy birthday. And all I can think about is where in the hell are all of you the other 364 days of the year??? Does anyone else feel like this? I definitely have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love that I can keep up with my far away family who lives in Florida, Oregon, Michigan, etc. But I also hate the flat relationships that social media can create. Actions speak louder then words after all, so all of the empty words that fill my news feed once a year leave me feeling empty inside. If you want me to know that you love me, show me. Call me. Go to lunch with me. Anything but write on my news feed once a year. I seriously hate that. I hate social media fake friendships. However, they definitely make me grateful for my REAL friends. The ones who show up and speak up. I am very lucky to have those friends in my life! Okay, enough of that whining. For the most part Facebook can be a good thing.... just not on September 2 haha.

To all of you that made my birthday wonderul this year, thank you. I love you all. I even love the ones who I only hear from once a year, but let's change that this year, shall we? :) As for pictures, I am far too lazy for that... go look at Facebook. ;)

Topsy Turvy World

I live in a strange world.

A world that celebrates life on Mars,

but destroys life in the womb.

A world that values a gorillas life

over a small boys.

I live in a world where we give money

to the lazy

but ignore our vets, refugees, 

and poor.

If I believe officer's lives matter,

then black peoples don't.

Instead of creating a third bathroom,

we open the doors for all to enter.

I live in a world where celebrities,

and felons,

can run for office.

If you don't do parenting my way,

you are doing it wrong!

A world where "medical use"

is undervalued to "prescription use".

Though both can help and hurt equally.

I live in a world where "Christian"

means bigot.

And don't even get me started on

"those damn Mormons".

When it comes to sex

everything goes:

Pornography

Trafficking

Affairs

Child Molestation

One night stands

Rape

It's there, but lets not talk of uncomfortable things.

Instead, let's portray sex in our media

as fun, meaningless, and carefree.

While we are at it

lets put violence in our video games

and then wonder why in the hell

people kill people.

Let's worry about things like

bathrooms, gorillas, and parent shaming

while there our shootings, hunger,

and terrorists.

Common sense, kindness, human decency

are things of the past.

Let's take a selfie.

Sadness

If you know me at all then you know that I feel BIG emotions. I am a very sensitive person. Growing up I always thought this was one of my greatest weaknesses, but as I get older, I think Heavenly Father considers it a strength. And if HE thinks it is a strength, then I better learn to love this quality about myself. It is not easy coming to love a personality trait that I have always despised. I am constantly wishing for thicker skin. But one thing that comes along with feeling big emotions, is the ability to have a lot of empathy for people. And empathy is a Christ-like trait. It can also be very emotionally taxing.

Sometimes I read stories on the news (we do not have TV so I follow all of the news channels on FB), and I feel so much emotion I can barely contain it. Like that dad who left his 18 month old in the car overnight in this freezing weather in just a diaper. I found myself wishing that there was a special place in hell reserved just for him. I find myself mourning with people that I have never met and it is hard to not drown in the sorrow of the world sometimes. A few weeks ago one of my cousin-in-laws lost her brother. And as I started telling Justin about it I began to cry. Not just cry. But ugly-cry, sobbing, gasping for breath. I think Justin was completely flabbergasted by the amount of emotion that was pouring out of me. Especially because this was a man that I had never even met. When he asked me why I was so upset I just started rambling, "Because think of everyone who is so sad about his death! So many people miss him and feel his loss. And he was so young and seemed like such a good man! And it makes me think of Zach (my brother) and how sad I would be if I lost him" and of course thinking about my own brother dying brought on a fresh wave of emotion. So sometimes this whole empathy thing turns me into a big goopy pile of hot mess.

This last week my cousin lost his life after a three year battle with leukemia. I regret that I didn't know this man better. After sitting in his funeral yesterday I learned more about his life and what an incredible spiritual strength he was. I mourned for his wife and three children. I mourned for his parents. I mourned for everyone who ever knew him, basically. I probably got to see him once a year, sometimes more, and he would always come up to me and call me by name and give me a hug. And although it wasn't much, it meant a lot to me. Especially because we have A LOT of cousins on the Paulsen side, but he made time for all of us. He made everyone feel special. He was a good man and he will be missed.

I felt completely emotionally drained after a day like yesterday. Crying is more exhausting than going to the gym! What is the point of this blog? I have no idea. I just have felt so many emotions this past week that I find myself sitting down at my computer and typing. Typing my thoughts. My feelings. My emotions. Today was ward conference and our bishop gave the most eloquent talk on holding strong to the Lord's commandments and our beliefs during life's storms. It was exactly what I needed to hear after a day like yesterday. The last song we sang was Battle Hymn of the Republic and it just filled my soul up with so much goodness. Why is it that a ward who barely sings during every song, practically shouts that one out?! It is amazing what that song does to a sleepy congregation! I love that song. I have a deep respect for my bishop- I know he is an inspired man. I am grateful that I have this firm foundation to cling to in the stormy weather of  this world. I used to loathe Sundays. Now I love them. I feel so rejuvenated today. It has completely prepared me for another week. I feel blessed and happy and at peace.

If you ever need a crying buddy, or just a shoulder to cry on, you know who to call now!  ;)

With a Deep Breath

Goodbye 2015.
You were not good to me.
There were glimmers of wonder and joy,
 but for the most part, I am not sad to see you go.

Life lessons were taught. So that holds value I suppose.
But through the trials and the pain,
I happily say farewell.



Guys, 2015 was hard. It was hard physically, mentally, and emotionally. It was one of the hardest years for our marriage. It was one of the hardest years for my depression. It was one of the hardest years professionally. It was one of the hardest years for me spiritually. It was just hard. Life is amazing in that through the difficult times you have these glimmers of wonderfulness that get you through the bad times. Like our vacation to San Diego, being able to attend the Usborne convention in Tulsa, and Leland's 2'nd birthday. Holidays are great, but were definitely harder this year without my little brother (he is currently serving a mission for the LDS church in Brazil). So don't get me wrong, there were amazing moments. But I feel no sorrow whatsoever as a new year is here. I am closing the chapter on 2015 with a thankful heart for my struggles, and am looking forward to 2016 with a renewed sense of hope for the future. Some people think that setting goals in January is cliche, but I need January. I hate January. But I need January. I like the newness of January. I like the idea that 2016 is MY year, and that anything can happen. I have big plans for January. Some of which include:
-Getting healthy (Justin and I joined a gym last week. Yay!)
-Writing Zach more letters (emails don't count)
-Promoting to team leader in Usborne (anyone want some free books? *wink wink*)
-Saving up some money for a vacation (more on that later)
-Getting my butt back in church (was just called as a sunbeams teacher... thank you Bishop for not really giving me the option to skip church anymore)
-Become more social and make new friends (so hard for me but I am gonna do it if it kills me!)
-And last, but not least, blog more!

So, with a deep breath, I begin a new chapter in my life.

Let it Go

I have been putting off writing this blog for a while. I was hoping that the ‘Frozen’ epidemic would die out, because I didn’t want to be one of those people.  You know who I am talking about. The kind of people who are filling up youtube with their own ‘let it go’ parodies.  Yes, I own the movie.  And yes, I own the soundtrack. But let’s be honest, I mean really honest, that movie is WAY overrated am I right? And that song… heaven to betsy… it is in competition with any of Taylor Swift’s hits for being wonderful at first but so overplayed you kind of start to cringe every time it comes on the radio. Yes, radio. I blame you for ruining some of my very favorite songs for me.

But I am getting off track. Because dissing on Frozen is NOT what this blog post is about.

This blog post is actually a TRIBUTE to the song ‘Let it Go’. (Hypocrite much?) *sigh, I know.  Because you see, there is a reason why that song touches so many people. And it has nothing to do with a beautiful Disney princess and little girl dreams. But it does have everything to do with the fact that there is something in every single person’s life on planet earth that they need to let go of.  Something they are ashamed of themselves for, something they try to hide from other people. I read one blog post that was circulating Facebook about how the song was referring to gay people and their struggle to “come out of the closet”.  And where that is all fine and dandy for them that is NOT what the song meant to ME.

You see, for me, the song described how I feel about having depression to the tee.

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside

Couldn't keep it in;
Heaven knows I've tried

Don't let them in,
don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel,
don't let them know
Well now they know

So In case you were wondering why all of this is coming out tonight, it is because tonight my husband and I went on a date to see ‘Night at the Museum 3”. This is supposed to be a funny movie, but as the credits began rolling and “A tribute to Robin Williams” popped on the screen, my chest began to constrict. I started bawling big fat tears on the way home.  It may sound so weird to other people that I was mourning the death of a man that I have never even met, but I have felt what he felt. I have felt hopeless. I have felt friendless. I have felt suicidal. And he felt all of these things. I wonder how many people knew this about him. He seemed like such a happy and jovial person on the outside “Conceal, don’t feel” – that is what was going on. But if he had just “let it go” how many people would have helped him I wonder? He touched the lives of MILLIONS of people- not only his fans, but the fellow actors that he worked with I am sure. But in his final moments, he didn’t feel like there was one single person on the planet that he could turn to for help. It breaks my heart. Not only for the loss of his life, but for me too, because I know how it feels.

In high school I was completely humiliated that I suffered from depression. I felt tainted, like if other people knew the thoughts that came into my head sometimes it would scare them off and they would want nothing to do with me. I tried so hard to live the motto “fake it ‘till you make it’. It’s how I lived my life; never allowing myself to feel what I was really feeling, keeping everything bottled up inside, trying to hide my true emotions and plaster a smile on my face.  It is a very lonely way to live though. “A kingdom of isolation, and apparently I’m the queen.”  But there is a reality to my way of thinking. Who wants to be around someone who is sad, depressed, self-loathing, and pessimistic all of the time? I really felt that I couldn’t be myself and have friends at the same time.  And I have also been on the other side of that spectrum. In college I had a friend who was so emotionally draining on me. All she did was complain about her life and vent to me. I understand that venting is part of friendship, but I needed more than that from her. I also need fun and laughter and support in MY life, not always me giving it to her. It truly was a one sided friendship, so believe me when I say that I understand both sides.

But when you are in a deep depression your way of thinking is warped. You have tunnel vision. You question everything. You are afraid to tell people how you are feeling because you fear even more rejection. So you isolate yourself. I don’t know if you do it to protect yourself, or protect your friends from yourself. Probably both.

But there is a catch to this, and it is called social media. Social media allows depressed people to seek approval from their peers, without actually having to interact with them. It is SO easy to “fake it till you make it” on social media. You post all happy stuff in hopes to hide your true agonies, because getting “likes” and happy comments makes you feel good about yourself, if only for a moment. Social media is a way to filter your life. You have complete control over it, over what people see, so you begin to create the image of what you want to be, but not necessarily who you are. The damage that this can cause is severe because your friends only see the happy stuff and may never know what is really going on.

I don’t think anyone knew what was really going on with Robin Williams either. His death was 100% preventable. If only he had gotten help and not been ashamed of himself for having this mental illness. In 2009, the last year for which statistics are available, suicide was the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S. That year, there were nearly 37,000 suicides, and 1 million people attempted suicide, according to the Centers for Disease Control. I can only imagine that those numbers have grown at an alarming rate every year.

The only way I can see to stop suicide, is to be open about mental illness. To educate people on how they can not only get help for themselves, but how to help others. People need to know the warning signs, and not always judge people from what they see on facebook. We need to talk openly about it, and shout from the rooftops that there is nothing to be ashamed of!

My name is Kristi and I was diagnosed with depression when I was ten years old. And there is no shame in that, not anymore. 

To learn more click here

Jumanji

Patch Adams

Mrs. Doubtfire

RV

Dead Poets Society

Father's Day

Aladdin

Night at the Museum 

Popeye

Nine Months

Ferngully

Flubber

FRIENDS

Hook

EFY Medley

I went to EFY at Brigham Young University twice, when I was 14 and 15 years old. In case you have never heard of it,  EFY stands for Especially For Youth and it is week long LDS camp for youth that takes place in the summer. While you are there you get to hear lectures from amazing people like John Bytheway and Sheri Dew. You meet thousands of youth of the church and share in wonderful spiritual experiences. You also have a ton of fun and do crazy things outside of your comfort zone that you never thought you would. You also are assigned to a family with a female leader and a male leader that are usually college students. They are like your mom and dad on the journey and then you have a group of 20 or so guys and girls your same age that literally become like family over the  course of a week. It is really weird how it happens, but it really does happen. At the end of this utterly magnificent week you go on pretend missions and they split up your family. The guys are cut off from the girls and you really start to miss each other that day. Then for the final devotional that night everyone meets up and you sing The EFY Medley. 

This is by far one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever had in my life. I saw this video circulating Facebook tonight and all of those memories from more than ten years ago came rushing back. To this day this song fills me with joy and brings peace to my soul. I can't help but tear up at its beauty and simple message. It tells of  youth unifying together to come unto Christ. There is a certain undeniable power in the words. If you have never had the chance to sing this song in a room full of thousands of your peers, I pray that one day you will get that chance, there really is nothing quite like it. 

To find out more about what I believe please visit lds.org

The Butler

Have you seen the movie 'The Butler'? As I was watching it today I really really liked it. But then the last ten minutes or so I just got really mad and I felt like those last minutes of a great film ruined the whole movie for me. The movie is about a black man who serves as the White House butler for more than twenty years- serving the different presidents as they come and go in office. It also depicts the Civil Rights Movement and how persecuted the black people of America were at that time. The entire movie completely moved me and there were spots that definitely brought tears to my eyes. The Civil Rights Movement was a terrible time in American history. Many people died and were hurt fighting in a war for equal rights on their home soil. All of the actors did an amazing job in their roles and I really did love this movie.

BUT then it comes to the time when Barack Obama is up for election. After watching an entire movie dedicated to Civil Rights, it ends with Obama. The hero of the story talks about how he could have never imagined a world where a black man could have a real chance of becoming the president of the United States of America. He talks about how he and his wife walk past the city office building every night to see where they will go to vote for Obama- they are that excited to be voting for a black man. Then when he wins the election they start crying because they are so happy that finally, after years of fighting for equal rights, there is a black man in the Oval Office. I think the point they were trying to make was how far black people have come since the 1960's, but that's not what I took away from it at all.

Here is my problem with it. They always use the world 'black' when talking about Obama. The sole reason they are voting for Obama is because of the color of his skin. Does this rub anyone else the wrong way?? Because I was under the impression that The Civil Rights Movement was to create equality among the races, but here we are in the 21'st century electing a president merely because of the color of his skin. There was no mention whatsoever about his politics, his beliefs, what kind of man he was, NOTHING. All they focused on was that he was black. Whoop-dee-doo. Maybe we haven't become as color blind as we would like to think. And I'm sure it goes both ways. I have no doubt in my mind that there are white people out there that didn't vote for Obama merely on the color of his skin. Here I am rooting for this struggling family the whole step of the way, and in the last ten minutes I lose all respect for them because they choose race and ignore politics. It's people like that that are going to drive this country to hell. It's not Obama. It is the people that elected him.

What are your thoughts?

The Passing of a Hero

grief (N) : a deep sadness caused especially by someones death

Everyone handles grief in their own way. Some people cry. Some people talk. And some people stay busy and try to avoid it. How do I handle grief? I write.

In my lifetime I have acquired many heroes. People I looked up to, people I respected and wanted to be like, and people who made a difference in my life. Saturday I lost one of my heroes, my Uncle Kevin. Uncle Kevin was added to my list of heroes at a very young age. When I was a very little girl, like maybe 2 or 3, I was camping with my whole extended family when I fell flat into the campfire. My Uncle Kevin jumped up and pulled me from the flames.  I should have had third degree burns covering my body, but there wasn't a single burn on my skin. It was a miracle. Uncle Kevin's quick reaction saved my life. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him. I owe him my life.

Ever since I heard the news on Saturday I have tried to grasp the reality that he is gone. It just doesn't seem real. Saturday I think I was in shock, I didn't even cry. But then on Sunday when I saw the grief that my family was experiencing it hit me like a ton of bricks. I keep playing the 'could of, should of, what if?' game. Did he know he was one of my heroes? I never told him. I should have. Did he know that I loved him? Does he know that I will miss him? Was there something more I could have done? He sent me a Christmas card this year, but I got so busy I didn't send him one back or even call him and thank him. And now its too late. Regret is entangled with grief and I am having a hard time processing it all. I wish I would have made more of an effort these last few years to keep in touch with him, but I didn't, and now I have to live with that. Friday is the funeral and boy is that going to be a hard day. My heart is breaking for his family but also, selfishly, it is hurting for me too. Uncle Kevin was a good uncle. The world somehow seems a little darker this week without him in it. Sometimes I don't think its fair that the world keeps turning and life goes on when someone we love passes away. Everything should stop for just a moment, take a pause, a break. Give us a chance to catch our breath and get a grip. But it doesn't happen that way. We are forced to keep moving forward because what else are we supposed to do?

It just.... hurts. And sucks. Sucks big time.

I love you Uncle Kevin. I will miss you. And hey, thanks for the Christmas Card. I was very touched that you would send me one. Goodbye.

Majority vs: Minority

Let’s talk about majorities and minorities for a minute. Do you ever feel like being in the majority isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be? That being a white, middle class, Mormon in Utah isn’t always peaches and cream? Sometimes I feel like the freedom of speech law only applies to the minorities in our society. They can say whatever they want, but if the average middle class white man speaks out they get called a racist or a bigot. Let the minorities shout out their beliefs from the rooftops, but the majority better zip their lips.

But it’s more than just freedom of speech. Can you imagine for just a moment what would happen if someone suggested that we have a white history month? Or an entire parade dedicated to straight people? These things are not two way streets. And what if we said things like “White Pride” and “Straight Pride”? How is this different from “Black Pride” and “Gay Pride”? But somehow, it is. It is very different. Because in our society, the majority is so worried about being “politically correct” and not offending anyone, that somehow the same rules do not apply to the people who we are trying so hard to not offend.

And let’s go one step further. The rules that apply to the majority do not apply to the minority. Here are a few examples of what I am talking about.

-#1: When I was in the ninth grade I broke my knee jumping hurdles in gym class. My gym teacher yelled at me to stop crying and being such a baby. She also made me crawl on my butt, dragging my broken knee, across the wet and muddy soccer field so I would be out of everyone’s way. My doctor told me that if they had called an ambulance and not moved me, I may not have had to have surgery on my knee. We had every reason to sue the school, but we knew that their defense would be “You’re just doing this because the gym teacher is a lesbian”, and we knew we could never win that battle in court.

#2: We went to a supposedly family friendly restaurant for dinner one time. In the booth next to us were two women who were making out- to put things nicely. But it wasn’t just kissing. There were limbs flailing about, inappropriate noises being made, and petting of the most intense kind. It was quite the spectacle. When someone close by complained to the manager about this, the manager simply said, “We can’t afford a lawsuit against the LGBT community”. Um… what?! If this was a man and a woman doing this, you know for sure they would have been asked to leave. Double standard!

#3: At the library we can help patrons with computers to a certain extent, which means we can help them with the basics. We don’t have enough time or staff however to sit down and do everything for them. We just have too many people to serve. Well one day I was trying to help a Latino women print off some documents but after I helped her I had to go help some other patrons who were waiting at the desk. She eventually got mad at me for not sitting down at her computer, designing her entire project (which would have taken at least an hour) and then printing it out for her. When I told her I could only help her print it out but that she needed to design the layout herself she got mad and said, “You just don’t want to help me because I am Latino”. I don’t care If you are blue with purple polka dots, I simply cannot do what you are asking, and you would be better off going to a copy center where that is in their job description.

And maybe this is just me, but do you ever feel like the minorities look down on YOU because your race/ethnicity enslaved/tortured/ridiculed/etc THEIR race/ethnicity? It’s like come on. I didn’t make you work in my corn field, take you to a concentration camp, or make you live on a reservation. And I am sorry that that happened to those people but here’s the thing: #1: I wasn’t there, and #2:  Neither were you! So… do we have to live with the mistakes of previous generations forever? Because last time I checked there were evil people of all races, ethnicities, and cultures.

Lastly, let us talk about labels. I hate labels:  white people, black people, gay people, straight people, religious people, and atheist people. Want to know what I notice about all of those labels?  They are all people. Say Whaaaaat? Imagine that. All of them are people. Human beings who feel love and hate and anger and generosity, who have families and hopes and dreams, and who are all (for the most part) doing the best that they can in a cold and cynical world.

So what is my solution to the whole majority vs: minority battle you ask? It’s pretty simple really. Let’s forget the past, forget who wronged who because we weren’t there. Let’s be able to speak our minds about our thoughts, beliefs, and feelings without fear of causing offense, because it’s our uniqueness that makes us special.  Let’s drop the labels and see each other for our similarities rather than our differences. And let’s build each other up rather than tearing each other down. What a thought right? It will never happen right? Well, YOU can make it happen. And one person changing themselves is one step closer to changing the world, just saying. 

It's My Pity Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

For the last little while I have been having one big fat pity party for myself.  From a paralyzed face, a concussion, getting a new car, having that car break within a week, a broken oven, broken washing machine, etc. it has been a rough couple of months in the Palmer home. We also have some family members that are going through especially difficult trials, so add all of that up and throw the holidays in the mix and you get one stressed out, tired, and overwhelmed girl. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but I never, not once felt the Christmas spirit this year. It’s probably because I was so self-involved and Christmas time is supposed to be a time of charity. Bottom line, the holidays kind of sucked…. Big time.

This last weekend I decided I needed a break from my life so I ran away to my parent’s home. It was a really nice little get away and definitely cured my ‘holiday homesickness’ that I had been feeling. Is it weird that I am 26 years old, have been away from home for eight years, and still get homesick? Anyway, on Sunday I went to my home ward for church and it was a completely different experience than I have ever had in my own ward. This is the ward that I grew up in. Most of the people there have known me since I was three years old, so I had tons of people come up to me, take a peek at Leland, tell me it was good to see me, ask how I was doing, etc. etc. etc. I felt welcomed and loved and it was so nice to have people in church actually know who I was and call me by name. Because I was feeling so welcomed and so happy I was able to feel the spirit so strongly. I haven’t been to church in…. a long time. Like a really long time. I feel ashamed writing that, but I have really struggled spiritually lately. Every Sunday morning I come up with a million and one reasons of why I shouldn’t go to church that day. But this last Sunday made me realize two things. #1. Having friends at church makes a huge difference. I think part of the reason that I struggle with my church attendance is that when I go to my ward no one talks to me. I feel like no one knows me there, and they don’t really care to. I sit all by myself in Relief Society counting down the minutes until Justin joins me for Sunday School. I feel so lonely and it is a terrible feeling to have at church. #2. I didn’t realize that I was starving my spirit by not going to church. I have been ornery and cranky and so selfish lately, and I think it is mostly due to the lack of spirituality in my life. My soul hungers for the gospel and I was denying it, literally starving it to death. I didn’t realize how much I missed church until I went back and my soul sighed with relief from the spiritual nourishment that it had received.

So this year my main goal, or New Year’s resolution if you will, is to feed my spiritual side. Because I miss church. I miss reading my scriptures. I miss praying. And I miss having gospel conversations with people. When people ask me to go to the temple with them I want to be ready to go and not have to hang my head in shame that I don’t have a current temple recommend. I have gone through spiritual ups and downs  before, and they always mark some of the darkest days of my life. You would think I would learn my lesson by now but I just don’t. Pride circle remember?

I am excited for 2013 to be over. It was a hard year for me, largely in part because I was pregnant for more than half of it, but also because we had some pretty hard trials come our way.  I like fresh starts. I look forward to the things that 2014 will bring. It’s exciting, this being able to start over thing and gaining a desire to do better, be better. 

Quasimodo Syndrome

Sunday night as I was brushing my teeth I went to rinse my mouth out and could not hold the water in my mouth. You know the movie ‘Just Go With It’? Well, I kind of looked like the guy with all the botox at the party who tries to take a drink and it just spills down his chin.  So then I tried to smile and only the right side of my mouth moved. It was honestly the weirdest sensation ever. I went to tell Justin about my dilemma and he had no idea what was going on either. So I jumped on Google and everything I pulled up mentioned a stroke. I honestly didn’t think I was having a stroke but in the moment you kind of start freaking out. So we called my mother in law to come watch Leland and we headed to the emergency room.  We luckily didn’t have to wait very long for the doctor to come in, but as he was checking me out I realized that I could no longer move my eyebrow or close my eye all the way. So within less than an hour it had already gotten worse. Because it was only in my face and not the rest of my body the doctor quickly ruled out a stroke and diagnosed it as Bells Palsey. I had never heard of it before but he told me it was very common, especially in woman, and especially in woman who just gave birth. The doctor told me they have no idea what causes it but they think it is viral. He prescribed a steroid to help settle my face nerves down and told me that I need to tape my eye shut at night and put artificial tear drops in my eye during the day. It really isn’t anything serious but the super sucky part about it is that it could last anywhere from three weeks to three months.  Sometimes my eye feels scratchy because it dries out so quickly, I can’t  blink with it, but other than that there isn’t any pain. Mostly the worst thing about it is how embarrassing it is. You know, I never really considered myself a vain person, but after this week I realized that I am a lot more vain than I thought. I didn’t realize how much looks mattered to me until I lost mine. Half my face is droopy, I look like a freak when I smile, and I am only closing one eye when I blink. Basically I look like Quasimodo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and no, that is NOT an exaggeration. I wish I didn’t care about my looks so much, I kind of feel disappointed in myself actually. Does that sound weird? But it made me realize that if I was ever unfortunate enough to get a third degree burn and have to get skin grafts, or get cancer and lose my hair, it would be really hard for me to go out in public. Like really hard. Why do I care so much? I have a new found respect for the people who have to go through that. They are so brave to face this critical world. I know it really isn’t that big of a deal, but as I was getting ready for work on Tuesday and I was looking at myself in the mirror, I honestly did not want to go to work and have people see me looking so terrible. I think this is a good learning experience for me. Maybe it will help out my vanity a little. Maybe it will help me stop judging others on their appearance. And maybe it will help me be a little bit more compassionate towards others. Maybe, just maybe, I can turn this negative into a positive. That’s my goal anyway. And in the meantime, here’s to hoping it goes away quickly. But if not, at least I have a good Halloween costume this year. ;)

Welcome to the world Leland

In case you haven’t heard the news, there is a new addition to the Palmer family. His name is Leland Justin Palmer and he was born on July 27 at 1:21 am. Leland weighed 8 pounds and 3 ounces and was 20 inches long. I was both happy and surprised that he came out weighing what he did for coming to this world a whole two weeks early. But he had absolutely no problems and is a super healthy little boy. Here is the quick version of his birth story:

On Friday July 26 I went in to my regular weekly doctor’s appointment. For the first time my whole pregnancy my blood pressure was high which meant that I had toxemia. My doctor had me go up to labor and delivery after my appointment to get a stress test done- which basically means that they monitor the babies heart rate and do a whole bunch of blood work on me. All of the labs came back great and Leland’s heart was perfect, but I did have a really bad headache that they were concerned about. I told them that I was hypoglycemic and that I might just be hungry. So they gave me a sandwich, crackers, and some Tylenol. If the headache went away in one hour than I was good to go home, if it didn’t they would most likely induce labor. Well as you can guess, the headache didn’t go away and so I was induced.

They put me on a magnesium IV to prevent seizures because of my toxemia that made me really sick. I threw up about eight times during labor, but other than that things were progressing really well and I was doing great. I was surprisingly tired and slept a ton while I was in labor. After the doctor broke my water my contractions got way worse and more frequent so it was time to order the epidural. The epidural doctor was a freaking idiot- worst bedside manners EVER- and he missed the first time hitting a blood vessel. Getting an epidural once is bad enough but having to do it twice is pure hell! Thank heavens for Justin- he is the only thing that kept me sane through that whole thing.

After the epidural was in I was feeling pretty happy about life. I couldn’t feel any of my contractions and went back to basically just sleeping and waking up every so often to vomit. Around 11:30 pm I was finally dilated to a 10 and at 12:30 I began pushing. So to sum things up I was in labor for about ten hours and only had to push for about 50 minutes. Everyone was kind of shocked that it went so fast for a first baby. I feel extremely lucky that it went so well!

July 26’th was my Grandma Paulsen’s birthday. I was kind of bummed that I didn’t have him on her birthday, but I honestly feel like that was a present from her. That entire day I just knew that she was in my corner cheering me on. I can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am for this precious little boy. He has turned our world upside down and I love him a little bit more every day. He is absolutely perfect. No really, he is! I know that he was a gift from God. The first time after his birth that Justin and I prayed together I made him say it because I knew there was no way I would be able to get through that prayer. As I listened to my husband thank our Heavenly Father for this amazing baby tears just poured down my cheeks. My heart is so full. Sometimes when I am feeding him in the middle of the night I sing primary songs to him. Last night I  was singing ‘A Child’s Prayer’ to him and when I got to the lines “You are his child. His love will surround you” I completely lost it and started bawling my eyes out. I literally could feel the love that Heavenly Father has for this little guy fill the room in that moment. I am completely grateful, and overwhelmed, that He would entrust him to me. I am just so, so blessed!! 

Crazy Life

Do you ever feel like life gets a little TOO crazy? Lately I feel like Justin and I are running around like two chickens with their heads cut off. Our 'TO DO' list is piling up and nothing seems to be getting done. There is the garden to weed and water. The nursery to paint and decorate. The million little things we need to buy and do to get ready for our new family member. Then there are all of the daily chores; the laundry, dishes, yard work, and cleaning. Not to mention we both have very busy and demanding jobs right now. Justin is working six nights a week and I am up to my neck in the summer reading program. And also, it's summer. So along with all of these things to do we also have all of the summer activities going on. And lucky us, we are now scout leaders over the Bears and Wolves in our ward. How do people find enough hours in the day to accomplish it all??

Sometimes I would just like to set all of life's stresses aside for a minute and take a deep breath. I don't think I have taken a deep breath in quite some time. I am too busy running around. In all honesty this list of mine is piling up so high that sometimes I feel quite inadequate. I keep reminding myself that I am 35 1/2 weeks pregnant and its okay that I am not accomplishing as much as I want to. But that little nagging voice in the back of my head keeps saying, "Do more. Do more. Do more." My mind is ready to go but my tired, fat, swollen, pregnant body is screaming, "Slow it down will ya?!" Today I carried a heavy laundry basket. My husband asked me why I didn't just ask him to do it. My response, "I don't know. Because I am too stubborn." I think being too stubborn could be the death of me some day. I am not good at asking for help. Why is that? Here is my dear husband ready and willing and yet I trudge along doing things I know aren't good for me or for this baby. Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn me.

You wanna know the worst thing of all?!! It's the middle of July and I haven't been to my beloved Bear Lake once this summer! {Did some of you gasp at that last sentence? It's pretty shocking right?} I think that's what I am really in need of. A day with no stress. A day filled with sun, sand, and swimming. A day to unwind and recuperate.  Doesn't that sound just lovely?

What is the point of this blog? Well golly gee I have no idea. All I know is that I was lying in bed completely exhausted from a busy day. And it was only 9:00 which means that it was still light out, which led me to ponder how pathetic I was.  Well then I got out of bed to pee....again.... and all of a sudden I find myself down on my computer writing this blog. Because sometimes, you just need to write. Sometimes you just need to tell the world how tired and stressed, and how sick of being tired and stressed, you are. I also keep thinking about how these are the last few weeks that Justin and I will be just Justin and I. Never again will we be a family of two. So instead of running around like chickens with their heads cut off, I hope we can start to cherish these last few weeks that we have together as just us, because our lives are about to change forever. And I also think that no matter how much we try and prepare for this, we will never be really, fully prepared. So here is goodbye to a family of two and anxiously awaiting our family of three.

Reflections and Resolutions

Happy New Year! I can't believe that another year has come and gone, time is going by so freaking fast! 2012 was a great, great year for Justin and I. Here is some highlights of the year 2012:

-- Becoming an Aunt and Uncle. In May my sister in law had a baby girl named Tenley. Who knew that it was possible to love another person's kid as much as we love that little girl! I LOVE being an aunt!

-- Buying a Home. This was probably the most stressful yet rewarding thing we have ever done. Being homeowners is so rewarding and so hard and so wonderful. We love our home.

-- Getting a dog. Ever since I graduated from high school in 2006 I couldn't wait to find a place to live that allowed pets. I wanted a dog so dang bad! Well, in August Zorro joined our family. How were our lives ever complete without that little weirdo?

-- Going on some great mini vacations. Justin and I decided that we couldn't really afford a great big vacation this year so we took some mini ones to a junk yard in Idaho for his birthday, St. George to see Aladdin at the Tuacahn for my birthday, and a super fun, family filled weekend in Bear Lake for my mom's birthday.

--Some of the greatest holidays to date that were filled with lots of extended family, great food, lost of laughs, and wonderful memories made.

--Celebrating our one year anniversary.

--And last, but definitely not least- finding out that we were pregnant. What a whirlwind of emotion that was (and still is).

I am really excited for 2013. And kind of already wishing it away haha. I definitely will try very hard to be patient and try to love the present, but in all honesty most of this year I will spend pregnant, so yeah- I can't wait for August when we finally get to meet our little baby Palmer. We are also headed back to the Tuacahn in May for Mary Poppins so I am pretty excited for that as well. Other than that we will try a little harder, do a little better, and love each other a little more.  I definitely think this next year will trump last year and I am pretty happy about that. So happy new year everyone! And good luck with those resolutions!