Unsightly Armpits

I'm off to Women's Conference at BYU lately. Thus the no posts. I had vowed quite solemnly that I would never attend Women's Conference. Just goes to show that we often eat our words. When I was a student at BYU I despised Women's Conference. Hoards of women EVERYWHERE! I was even late to class a few times because I couldn't get through the throngs. And here I am, excited for my first experience as an attendee. It is my personal mission to make sure that I make at least one student late for at least one class.

Anyway, since I'm gone today I thought I'd send you on over to Voice In Recovery where I have written a love letter that you will want to be sure to catch.

Enjoy!

 Oh. . . And because it's the weekend, and because I got a kick out of this video, I hope you enjoy it as well. I think anyone with armpits can appreciate this:

The fears of a formerly skinny gal

Fear is a funny thing. The emotion of fear is so dynamic. Some people avoid being scared whenever possible (yes, I fit in this category; no scary movies for me please). Some people thrive on it. Some people never confront their fears. Some do (yes I do on occasion; I've been skydiving twice and it was amazing).

When I hear the word fear I think of horrible scenarios: man hiding under my car grabs my ankle in a dark parking lot, attack by wild beasts of some sort, motherhood :). Maybe I'm a bit dramatic, but I would imagine that there are others out there who have these same horrible thoughts when they think of the word fear.

But maybe we are over thinking this. Because I am beginning to believe that we all deal with fear to some degree every. single. day. And for those of us who deal with body image issues I think those fears can sometimes be crippling (and likely we aren't even aware of them).

Here's what got me thinking about this: I have heard women talk about how they had tried everything and simply couldn't lose weight. Then they realized that they were actually terrified of losing weight. They didn't know who they would be without the padding. They were afraid of losing friends. They were afraid of the attention that may come (both positive and negative) if they were to lose the weight. They had no idea these fears were there. But once they discovered the fear, and let go by accepting their body as it was, accepting that change would happen and they could love that person too the weight just started to come off.

When I first heard about this idea I thought it was a bit absurd. Who is scared to lose weight? But I've been doing some soul searching and guess what I found? Fear.

I believe that giving up dieting and becoming an intuitive eater takes a great deal of courage. Because it certainly can be scary. There is a lot of unknown. For a person who has always had rules, giving up the safety of rules can be terrifying. And learning to love your body just as it is can be intimidating.

But here is something else I've found in my own life: Fear of the setpoint. In order to be an intuitive eater you need to accept that every body has a weight and shape that is most comfortable and healthy for that body to function. That weight is your body's setpoint. And I'm okay with the concept.

My fear is that my setpoint is high.

Then it hit me: As a formerly skinny girl I have been holding on to this fear that my setpoint isn't as skinny as I used to be (and after having a baby it likely isn't). And I've been afraid to accept that. I've been afraid to give in to being an intuitive eater completely because I'm afraid I will, in fact, stay the size I am.

Wait! That completely undermines the whole journey here at LITM. Isn't the purpose to learn self love and acceptance?

Yes. That is the point. And yes this fear undermines the journey. But you see, up until a few days ago I had no idea this fear existed. I had no idea that deep down I was harboring this belief that intuitive eating needed to help me get thin. Because there are people who have indeed lost weight when they became an intuitive eater. But there are those who didn't either and that fear has been holding me back. The difference between me and those who live intuitive eating? They truly gave in to intuitive eating. They learned love where they were. And they found the best place for the best health for their bodies. And they feel great.

I believe that my heart has been in the right spot, but there are still barriers yet to be discovered and overcome. And guess what, dear readers, if you are embarking on this journey as well you will have your own road to walk with your barriers to tear down. And that's okay. This is a process after all.

No decent story about a journey has ever been written where the hero/heroine reached the final destination without a few hiccups. The hiccups and the unexpected are what make the story so good. So welcome to your journey. It may get bumpy.

*Image credit.

The price of gas isn't worth the price of friendship

Last night as we were drifting off to sleep I asked my husband what I should blog about today. Speaking of which, isn't "blog" a funny word? It's the "g." The letter "g" has this uncanny ability to make words funny: frog, goofy, garage, gamble, and here's a doozy, giggle.

Ahem.

Anyway, I asked the hubby about a subject. He said I should write about the price of gas. I told him that if I was going to write about something in the popular media it would be about the Royal Wedding. Because well really, do I need a "because?" Then I asked him if he had heard anything recently about what is going on in Japan (you know, while we were on the subject of popular media). Neither of us had heard much. You see, we have all moved on.

It's kind of incredible how short our attention span is. I get it. I'm there too. We all have really busy lives to live. That's why we have things like blogs, Facebook, and Twitter. That way we can update our status and let the people we love in on our lives. Then if we find time we can check up on our loved ones as well. Who has time for a whole phone conversation (I'm horrible at phone conversations, I have a phobia of the phone) let alone a lunch date with friends?

I have family that lives out here close to us. I think the last time I saw any of them was the first week in January. I'm so bad at keeping in touch with people. Even the people I love.

My cousin Jared, sister Sera, Me, and my husband Ammon at my brother, Nick's, football game.

But this very short conversation with my husband got me thinking. The goal of this blog is to help us all create happy, healthy lives. And one subject I've never explored is the importance of making time for meaningful relationships.

So as a society we have a short attention span because we are B.U.S.Y. We have a million things that must get done today. Time is ticking. And I am including myself in this category. Time is a scarce commodity.

I get that. I really do. But my favorite memories (the ones in which I am the happiest) are when I was taking time to connect with someone. Those times when I went to lunch with a high school or college friend, or when my sister and I sat in my living room and reminisced about growing up, going on hikes with my family, having a wrestling match with my toddler (even when the laundry, dishes, and vacuuming needed some attention) are the happiest times in my life.

I love the sense of accomplishment when I cross something off my "to-do" list. And things do, indeed, need to get done. But perhaps we should slow down a little and take time to be a friend and a family member before the opportunities pass us by. The dishes will wait, I promise.

The Easter Bunny Loves. . . Granola

It's been a long time since I've shared a recipe on here. In fact, I bet my fellow Whole Living Community members are wondering if I even know what whole foods are:) I thought perhaps now would be a good time to share. Maybe some of this tasty stuff could find it's way into an Easter basket or two. It tastes as good or better than most candy I've tried. And it's so super easy.

And while we are sharing wonderful Easter goodie ideas I thought I'd share a video as well. This Easter we can all rejoice and be thankful (as with every Easter) that the Lord has risen.

Peanut Butter Granola

5 cups Six Grain Cereal
1 cup sugar free peanut butter
1 cup Honey or Agave
1/2 cup Olive Oil
1 pkg sugar free, organic chocolate chips (or about 2 to 3 cups depending on preference)

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees. 
2. Mix the cereal, peanut butter, honey, and olive oil in a large bow. 
3. Spray a cookie sheet with olive oil.
4. Spread cereal mixture evenly on the cookie sheet.
5. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes.
6. Place back in a bowl and allow to cool.
7. Stir in chocolate chips (if desired, it tastes awesome without them too).
8. Store in Ziploc bag or airtight container.

Have a wonderful Easter!

Perfection, oh what a slippery slope

[The body is] a marvelous machine. . . a chemical laboratory, a power-house. Every movement, voluntary or involuntary, full of secrets and marvels!

~Theodor Herzl

The only energy left in this household of mine is being used to throw or control a fit. We are tired and headachy. And sore.

I guess you could say we (I) fell off the wagon. And I've been feeling guilty about it. What wagon? The listening to my body and giving it what it needs wagon. But I've been ashamed to admit it. I mean, I write a blog about taking care of that body. How can someone who writes a blog like that fall off that wagon?

But then again. . . I write this blog about my struggle to learn to love my body right? About the struggle to learn to take proper care of it. So isn't this a perfect example?

I still fight this fear that I simply can't be human. My drive for perfection has not really gone away. To a certain extent I think that's okay, but it can also be damaging. If I preach intuitive eating, then I feel I must always be an intuitive eater. I can never have a day (or a couple weeks) where I binge and eat to mask emotions. I must be perfect.

But I'm not perfect. I'm not. I'm also extremely new to intuitive eating. I've really only been doing this since January. That's only 4 shorts months. Not a whole lot of time to wipe out a lifetime of destructive eating behaviors.

I've known all along that I've been eating to avoid feeling something. I just wasn't ready to deal with it. So I ate. Then I despaired because I was eating poor. And down we went. Not too far, but not great either. My pain has been back, my headaches have returned full force, I'm not sleeping as well at night, and the fatigue has returned. But unlike my life 4 months ago, I know what is happening, and I know how to fix it.

That need for perfection has been freaking me out though. That all or nothing approach is dangerous. If I "screw up" just once during the day and eat when I'm not physically hungry I've felt like I can't keep going that day. I'll just have to start tomorrow. Dangerous train of thought.

So here's the conclusion that I've come up with: If you are like me and feel overwhelmed at times just slow it down. Break down your day and say, "for this one meal I'm going to listen." Nothing else matters. If you want to pig out after the meal, go for it, but for just that one meal listen. And be mindful. Notice how you feel. I'm willing to bet you'll like the way you feel. Then continue on to the next meal if you are ready. Just one baby step at a time.

I started doing this earlier this week and within only 3 days I want to take better care of myself. I've started exercising again because I want to (not because I feel obligated), and I'm eating healthier already. I've not fully recovered from my 2 weeks of ignoring my body, but I'll get there quickly. Our bodies are remarkable like that.

And maybe, just maybe, someone out there will be relieved to know that screwing up happens. Even to those of us who preach.

The work of self-discovery is never done, even when you look the same

When I hear the word "change" I automatically think "diapers." Oh, that's not what you had intended by picking that word this month, Mara? Well, in that case I guess the next thing that comes to mind is the following.

I love change. I think that puts me in the minority. Granted there are certain things I like to be consistent, but on the whole I'm a big fan of change. I rearrange my furniture regularly (much the the dismay of my husband who thinks I shouldn't move certain pieces of furniture (the pianos) on my own), I have looked forward to every move we have made, and I adore living somewhere with seasons just so we can constantly be in a state of change. I'm not good with routines, maybe that's why change is so attractive. It seduces me into thinking that around the next corner good things will come. And usually they do.

Personal change is a different story. I've spent a good chunk of my life trying to change who I am. I've never been very successful at it. I've tried to force myself into being an athlete, musician, artist, and fiction writer among other things. I've also tried to force my body to be a size that was unhealthy for me. I've often sought clothes, makeup, and other looks that were not comfortable for me either.

So I recently gave up trying to "change." Instead I was going to learn who exactly I was/am and learn to love that girl. I guess this in and of itself was a change. I needed to learn who this girl was that I've been living with for 27 years. But this sort of scared me too. No change anymore? Does that mean that I'll be exactly the same my whole life? I wasn't exactly a fan of the girl I was back in high school, does getting to know myself mean I'll be that girl the rest of my life?

How can a girl who loves change live without change?

I mean, aside from the recent weight gain I've pretty much looked the same my whole life. See:

The first one is lacking the handsome man, but has some pretty sweet bangs. Otherwise I've stayed pretty constant. The only thing that changes is my hair and weight. You can see how maybe I've been afraid that I'll just be the same as always. And what if I don't like the person I find?

I found this quote and love it:

"'People change and forget to tell each other,' Lillian Hellman once observed. Very often, however, it's the inner you who changes at the speed of light. Problems can arise when your authentic self and your conscious self don't communicate about the new direction you are moving in. And they probably aren't communicating if you're not using an introspective tool. . . It's no wonder if you feel confused and disoriented. Don't panic. This is a healthy sign of new growth." (Simple Abundance, Sarah Ban Breathnach)

While I may look the same as I did when I was 10, 15, 20, and 25 I'm most definitely a different person. I guess I'm not going to be stuck in my role as a flirty, dramatic teenager the rest of my life (thank goodness).

I still think of my brother as the little kid he was when I left home. He was 11, scrawny, and shorter than me. Sometimes it surprises me to see him now. He's tall and built. His voice is deep. He has the most hilarious sense of humor. Oh yeah, and he's 20. He forgot to tell me that he changed over time. And sometimes I find myself wondering how it happened. I think the same thing happens with our own changes as we age. We forget to tell ourselves.

But this quote brings up another interesting point: We will change. If we take the time to get to know ourselves and think our work is done we are going to find ourselves at a disconnect at some point. Because we will never be the same. We change and evolve as we age. As a result it is our job to always be in touch with our inner desires.

I noticed this recently with me. I've always been the girl who needed mascara. I also like to wear brown eyeshadows. But I've found that I don't like the result as much as I used to when I do my my makeup the way I've always done it. Instead, I need to have my hair done. Even if I don't wear makeup, I like the way I look when my hair is done. Not so much a ponytail girl anymore (although I still do that plenty). When I do want makeup on I like to have a nice shimmer instead of the dark brown I used to wear. I've changed. And that's okay.

So I guess my point is this: We will change. Life is about change. Learn to accept and love yourself through (and maybe because) of the change. Keep in touch with your inner authentic self. She may surprise you with what she wants next.

This post was written as part of the Self-Discovery Series. Mara, from Medicinal Marzipan was the fantastic host of this month's word: change. Learn more on Medicinal Marzipan and check out Mara's post on change.

Moms can't be wimps

I've got a dumpster diving, fit throwing toddler on my hands. The last couple of weeks have been full of extremely dramatic meltdowns. At least he is old enough now that when he melts down he gingerly throws himself down so he doesn't cause any damage to his person anymore.

Oh, and the dumpster diving? Well, he loves digging in the trash. I struggle to keep him out. We spend a lot of time cleaning up garbage and washing hands around here.

The poor kid is teething. But even so, mom is getting a little tired of all the tantrums. It's hard to believe that something this cute is capable of such drama:

And probably for him it's a good thing he's that cute. I can't hold a grudge against that. Even after what happened yesterday. . .

Yesterday I was sitting at the piano playing the opening song for Family Home Evening. Cormac wanted to play (and was throwing a fit about it) so I put him on my lap after the song. He pounded for a little while and then I closed the piano. That didn't go over well. He threw a complete fit. He threw all of his not insubstantial weight against me and pushed off the piano, hard. And over we went. I bundled him up to keep him from hitting his head on anything. Ammon responded in time to catch my head before it hit the ground, but everything else made contact with the ground and the bench against the floor.

I can't bend my left knee without significant pain in the back of it right now. I ache all over. Man I'm getting old.

Why am I telling you this here on this blog? No idea. Maybe I just wanted to explain my lack of awesome posts yesterday and today. Maybe I just wanted some sympathy. Perhaps I wanted to write an ode to mothers. Maybe I wanted to tell my own mom that she's awesome (Mom, I'm so sorry if I ever threw a fit). Who knows.

Uh oh, I can see another meltdown coming, I suppose I should get going. Thanks for listening. Thank heaven they outgrow this. Right?. . . Right?

Motherhood. . . it's not for wimps, that's for sure.