Real Love

I heard the song

"Smile"

by Uncle Cracker

on the radio twice this morning on different stations. 

I didn't mind because I happen to like the song.

As I listened,

I remembered

when I first heard it. 

My husband and I were in the car and I turned to him and asked,

"Do I make you buzz like a bee?"

He looked at me and in his endearing, truthful way answered,

"Oh, yes!"   I was satisfied.

This morning I was alone in the car and had the sudden urge to ask him again the next time I saw him...

I wondered if I still made him feel those exciting feelings you feel when you first start dating.  But something worried me: what if I still did make him feel those feelings but one day I didn't anymore? 

WHAT THEN?!

I almost laughed at myself as a thought came to mind,

"You KNOW what real love is, and it isn't just those exciting feelings."

Yes, I do, and I'd like to share.

It is exciting to enter a new relationship

because it's just that - new. 

It's novel.

It's mysterious.

It's superficial. 

You can still dream and hope the person is how you imagine them to be

for a few weeks

before your dreams are ultimately crushed and reality comes flooding in.

Many years ago, when these fears were more intense

(and I didn't know as much),

my mother told me about a scene in the movie called

Yours, Mine and Ours made in 1968.
It's about a widow with 8 children and a widower with 10 children. 
They get married and before they know it, number 19 is on the way.

 Here's a clip of the part of the movie my mother told me about.  It never really left me.

"It isn't going to bed with a man that proves you're in love with him;

it's getting up in the morning and facing

the drab,

miserable,

wonderful, everyday world with him

that counts." 

And all this as he's helping his

pregnant,

puffy,

tired,

make-up-less

wife down the stairs.

My sister-in-law made us a cross-stitch for our wedding.  It says:

"Love isn't something you fall into; it's something you grow."

I find comfort in that cross-stitch hanging on our wall, especially when things aren't going perfectly,

as they rarely do. 

Loving someone isn't just a feeling, it's an action of service.

This all may seem incredibly unromantic.

Well, watch out, because I've got another quote for you.

"Be friends first and sweethearts second. University professor Lowell Bennion once said that relationships between young men and young women should be built like a pyramid. The base of the pyramid is friendship. And the ascending layers are built of things like time, understanding, respect, and restraint.

Right at the top of the pyramid is a glittering little mystery called romance.

Now, you don’t have to be very smart to know that a pyramid won’t stand up very long if you stand it on its point instead of its base. In other words, be friends first and sweethearts later, not the other way around. Otherwise, people who think they are sweethearts may discover they can’t be very good friends, and by then it may be too late."

-The Gospel and Romantic Love by Elder Bruce C. Hafen of the Seventy

I guess the point is, romance is real.  Love is real, but not the way it is portrayed in today's world.

Drowning in Nostalgia

I'm too young for this! 

I was literally getting

dizzy

in the car as we drove home.

One of the girls I coached last fall invited me to one of her school volleyball games.

Today was that day.

I felt a little nervous as we drove because the event was being held at

*dun dun dun*

my old middle school...

I don't know if anyone else feels the same, but I

hated

middle school.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I would rate

College:

10

Elementary School:

9

High School:

5

Middle School:

-3

Hatred does not fully describe

the feelings I had

toward all the

anxiety,

humiliation,

and

total confidence annihilation

that period of my life held for me.

Well,

I was going

back.

My husband pulled into the parking lot

and I found myself

a little too excited to enter my

ex-jail ex-school of such disdain.

When we walked in, nothing jarred my memory

...

they had, after all, redesigned half of the school.

But as we walked down the hallway,

toward the gym,

it seemed to me that

page after page of my "book of life"

was being flipped backward until I found myself

...

back in middle school.

The lockers had changed,

carpet adorned the floor in place of the ugly hard tile,

but the walls...

those dreaded walls,

were still standing, white and bleak as ever.

We walked into the gym.

The floor was even the same.

They had added some things here and there,

but the smell - THE SMELL

was still there,

that same oddly sweet and subtle scent still lingered.

And here's the shocker:

No shiver ran up and down my spine.

No gag reflex engaged.

No eye rolling.

No sneer of the face.

Instead:

A flicker of a memory entered my mind of the

first time I went into that gym

 and breathed in that smell.

I had GOOD feelings.

I can't quite put

my finger on where those good

memories were coming from,

but they were definitely good,

not bad. 

Perhaps I was remembering the excitement I felt

the first week

at being in middle school,

before

 the guillotine came down.

I enjoyed the volleyball games

(remember?  the game?  the reason we came?) 

They won all 5 games!

Woot!

But I was eager to get out and look around that school.

I didn't have the nerve to go into the bathrooms,

but I looked into some of the classrooms.

I found

my old science rooms from

6th grade and 7th grade,

my old locker areas

from 6th and 8th grade,

the drinking fountain

I struggled at to gag down my enormous migraine pills,

my social studies class room

from 6th grade 

(which still had the same desks and chairs, by the way).

I have never had an experience like that.

Good or bad, I wanted more memories.

I stomped around that school like

I still went there,

my husband trailing

quietly and timidly

behind me

(I think he was a little afraid we'd get caught without a hall-pass)

;0)

We headed back to the remodeled part. 

 The stairs were gone!

More memories of a big fat jerk bully

 lunging down the now non-existent stairwell and crowd surfing
(p.s. no one KNEW he was planning on doing this,
and when I say "crowd surfing",
I really mean,
"people collapsing beneath his unexpected body landing on them") 

flashed before me.

Half my classrooms were gone.

I wandered the new hallways,

still searching,

remembering

what used to be,

hoping

to find a remnant of

anything

from my time in that big beautiful remodel.

My desire was not fulfilled, but

a flood of memories

blinded me,

literally

blinded my visual senses.

My old band room. 

The tiny basement

where we had
art and shop class. 

 Upstairs

was my old 7th grade math room. 

 I was even excited to see, in my mind's eye, my old Spanish room  

and I heartily disliked Spanish. 

I even saw the faces

of some of the school students,

random as best as I can determine.

We left the building

and I saw the place

where my mother

picked me up so many times.

As we drove home, 

we saw an

amazingly brilliant sunset,

the kind that

 turns your skin and the air around you orange.

How many times have I driven

away

 from that school

dreading

the homework I knew I couldn't finish in time,

the test I knew I would fail the next day,

the three month project I knew was due after the weekend and I hadn't even started it yet.

How many times have I driven

passed  

that school

 thinking

"Jail!  I hope they knock it down!"

or

thinking evil thoughts of that building,

no person in particular,

just the bricks themselves

for existing.

Now I've gone back in and wished for more.

Are my memories of hatred false?

I doubt it,

I left that school

hating it,

only remembering the bad experiences,

which were many.

Today I was given a

small gift: 

some good memories

in that retched place,

that was not so retched as I thought.

Now it's half gone,

 and as odd as I feel,

I miss that part that's been rebuilt,

and am grateful for the remaining part to remind me of the "good smells." 

11:17pm - February 17, 2006

Today, four years ago a momentous thing happened: my husband and I became engaged, and for those of you who know us (or rather, me), you know what a miracle this was.

(pretend this is really pretty cursive)

Let me tell you the story.....

(imagine the words fading in and shimmering off, into blackness)

(fade in) -Based on a true story- (fade to black)

(climactic orchestral music)
Keeping Beauty

Once upon a time, there lived an absolutely amazing, wonderful, gorgeous, and pretty much perfect princess.

But there was something different about this princess. 

This princess was very confused (which is very odd for a princess to be).

All her other princess friends were getting married and having cute little prince and princess babies, but she was afraid.

How could she get married? 

How could anyone get married?

How could she commit her whole life and eternity to one person she hasn't even met yet?

Oh, this thought frightened her very much.

But that didn't stop her from having fun and going on dates with some of the nearby princes.

One day she met a very particular prince, but soon after meeting him,  forgot his name.

After re-meeting him several times, she finally remembered his name and they became close friends and (very long story short) they began to court.

After a year of courting, the prince and princess decided that they should marry, but the princess was still very afraid of marriage.  They were secretly engaged for a day, but the princess just wasn't ready. 

How confused she was! 

How could she still want to court this wonderful prince, yet not marry him?

What a patient prince he was indeed, for he continued to court her for another year until she felt she was ready to marry.

On Valentine's Day, the prince told the princess he would take her to a special place!  How excited she was!

"I'm ready!"

she thought, as he took her to an enchanting river scene.  She waited and waited for him to propose marriage, but as the sun went down, he escorted her back to the carriage without a word!

What a trick he played!  The prince knew she expected it and pretended he would propose.  The princess knew indeed the prince would propose, but the question was, when?

The prince decided to take the princess to the theater, on a very cold night.

"This must be it!" she anticipated.  As they walked across the frozen garden of a nearby castle, the moment seemed to come....and then go.  As they reached the steps of the theater, the princess realized the prince had played another trick!  Was this to go on forever?

After the entertainment, they began their walk to the carriage.

"Oh, let's do go this way instead.  The gardens are a fright this time of year," suggested the prince, as he lead the way to the other side of the castle.

As they walked, they came upon a beautiful mirror pond that reflected the image of the castle perfectly.

The princess recognized this as the "most popular place for princes to propose to princesses in that kingdom."  Anticipating another trick, she turned to him and declared,

"Don't you dare."

The prince's countenance seemed to fall and his stride shortened as they continued to walk.

And then he confessed. 

His first plans to propose that evening had both been dashed and this was his last.  The moment had definitely gone and no matter how she tried to persuade him, he could not bring himself to ask her.

They both quietly walked back to the carriage and started back.  As they rode, the prince confessed another little secret.  He had told the entire kingdom of the event that would take place that evening, and it had not happened, nor would it that evening.

Suddenly, the princess' eyes changed.  Her skin began the erupt with green boils and flames of the hottest fire came billowing from her now massive mouth. 

The carriage exploded as she grew to become a tremendous dragon!! 

The nearby fields of wheat became a sea fire and previously sleeping peasants ran for their lives as their cottages burst into flames. 

Men cowered.

Women screamed, then fainted.

Children cried. 

The prince did not know what to do.

"An evil witch must have cast a spell on her as a baby," he conjured.

Why had his absolutely amazing, wonderful, gorgeous, and pretty much perfect princess become a dragon?

He threw caution to the wind, flung aside his cape (he was wearing a cape), grabbed the ring out of his pocket, knelt down on one knee, and proposed as loudly as he could above all the pandemonium.

As she heard the words, she turned to look at the isolated prince. 

Encircled with the fiery wheat fields, the diamond on the ring that the prince held aloft blazed and gleamed from the dancing flames. 

A flash of light! 

As the brightness of the light faded, the dragon appearance blow away with with wind, and there stood his princess.

"YES!" she exclaimed as she snatched the ring from his sooty hand.

What was he getting himself into.....

???

No animals, peasants, or wheat were harmed in the making of this story.

The trick to working out

-1-

Everyone is different.

This is number one because it's most important.  My examples in this blog are MINE, not yours.  I use them to help you visualize how things might be, but everyone's bodies have different needs, different messages, different ways of thinking.

-2-

Find something you like and stick to it.

You are a very lucky person indeed if you love and enjoy putting your body through what feels like a refiner's fire.  I'm not talking about changing your middle name to "no pain, no gain" or "eating" exercise for breakfast -  I'm talking about finding something you DON'T hate, whether that is lifting soup cans in your living room, DDR, working out at the local gym, or climbing Mt. Everest.  You have to find something you don't dread, so that when you're waking up two hours before work to do it, you can find the motivation in you, somewhere, to pull those covers off.

I have to do a "body check" every morning.  When that alarm goes off, I think"

"Do I have any excuses for not working out?"  Isn't that terrible? But it works for me because I allow those little excuses sometimes.  If I'm sick or in a lot of pain, I don't workout.  Or if the roads are icy (yes I am a fair weather exerciser), I roll over and reset my alarm to a more reasonable hour.  But, I also have to be honest with myself.  I never WANT to wake up early and work out.  I never wake up before my alarm clock goes of an say to the world, "The thing I want to do most is get up and sweat!"  Nope.  But I do have to be honest.  If the pain isn't there (or it's mild) and I don't feel any illness coming on, I pull myself out of bed.  I don't love it, but if I hated my work out, this would NEVER work.

-3-

Listen to your body.

Actually, your body has a lot to say if you listen.  When I say "listen", I really mean feel because I suppose that's how your body communicates with your brain, but you need to be aware that there are messages being sent in the first place.  When you're running or lifting or dancing or hiking (or in my case speed walking....yes I'm one of those) or whatever-ing, make sure you can tune-in to what your body is "saying" over the blasting music, the screaming aerobics instructor, or the TV.

This morning, my calves were burning more than usual, almost to the point of me pushing that minus button on the treadmill to slow things down a bit, but then I noticed how my hips were feeling, then my back, then my lungs and my neck, etc.  I decided my hips were "in charge" at that moment because they felt well oiled and moved easily, when normally they don't.  So I told those blasted calf muscles who was boss that moment:

my hips! 

And they stayed boss the rest of the time (which is odd because usually my body goes through about 5 "bosses" in a 40 minute period). I felt like my calf muscles were just whining, so I ignored them and continued on, but I ALSO continued to listen to them in case that changed.  Ah ha!  There's a catch.  You need to learn to discern between when a muscle (or other body part) is "whining" or when it is "hurting."  Whining bodies don't need to be pitied, but hurting bodies need to be listened to and heeded.  This is a personal thing.  You must learn how YOUR body does this.

-4-

Don't compare yourself!

I take that back.  Do compare yourself...with YOURSELF.  Comparing yourself to someone else can be detrimental to your motivation and self-esteem.  So keep those eyes on your own numbers!  Only compare yourself to yourself, and even then you must be careful.

Let's say I went from being a complete couch potato to walking 2.0 mph for 15 minutes 3x a week and I did it for 2 weeks.  Good for me!  But -uh oh- one day, my body just wouldn't work and I only went 1.4 mph for 12 minutes.  Whatever shall I do?  Don't sweat it.  I've had dozens of scenarios happen to me just like this: I didn't go as far as I did the other day or I couldn't go as fast -  but that was me listening to my body.  If I kill my body today, I will regret it tomorrow and the next day a work-out won't happen.  Don't stress the fluctuations.  It's only one day.

-5-

Let it evolve.

When I started working out over 2 years ago, I knew I was in bad shape and there was no way I was going to a gym or outside to get my sweat glands working.  My husband and I lived in a small apartment and, being college students, were broke.  No money for treadmills or a Wii or even a workout tape (those don't work for me anyway, I've tried, but they might for you!).  I decided dancing was the key.  I grabbed some soup cans, bought one 5 lbs weight (yes, one), and put on some fun music that got my heart-a-pumpin'.  I set my goal to something I knew I could keep: 10 minutes a day, 3 days a week (the key for me wasn't to do what the "experts" tell me to do, it was just to do SOMETHING).  Once I got the 3-day-a-week habit, I bumped up the time (and I STILL only work out 3 times a week).  I would dance, jog, or jump in place for 30 seconds, then do a muscle exercise for 30 seconds (lifting that one 5lbs weight, "bench pressing" the soup cans, lunges, sit-ups, push-ups, etc.), then back to dancing.  It worked for me for many months.  Over time, I noticed after my workout was finished, my body still had kind-of a "ball" of energy left over in my stomach that needed to be spent, but wasn't.  My confidence had gone up, so I decided to venture outdoors.  I sped walked and jogged through my neighborhood all that spring and summer.  When Fall hit and the snow descended; I was lost.  I had moved "beyond" hoping around in my living room, but I couldn't walk on the icy sidewalks.  So I used a discount through my husband to get into the gym at the school.  I treadmilled and biked to my heart's content.  THEN, my husband graduated.  We moved.  Try as I did, reverting back to neighborhood walking wasn't working anymore and we couldn't afford to pay for a gym membership, not even at a rec center.  I skipped working out for 5 or 6 months, but an amazing thing happened.  Even though I thought I was putting my body through this horrible thing of exercise, the lack of it was making things worse, and my body was letting me know!  So, I used my resources.  I traveled to a nearby relative's house to use their treadmill and that's where I currently stand.  Thing's changed for me, and I've been trying to roll with the punches.

-6-

Look at the big picture.

Why are you working out?  Where do you want to be with working out in a year or 2 and why do you want to be there?

There's no way you're going to have a healthy relationship with your body if the only reason you are working out is to "get skinny"  Don't get me wrong; losing weight NOT a bad goal, but make sure that goal has a worthy reason behind it.

The reason I'm working out is for my future children.  The consequences of me working out is that I feel so much better physically and I know it's good for me, but on the hardest mornings, when it seems nothing will get me out of bed, the thought of "you'll feel good afterwards!" would not get me up.  Something else does.  My goal is to be healthy so that I will have the energy and health to keep up with my future kids and be a good parent.  That goal gets me up.  It's important to find that worthy and realistic goal, and believe it, whatever it is.

The Priesthood in my home

I just realized something:  I have a husband who holds the Priesthood.

I'm stressing out a bit over a photography project I can't tell anyone about (yes, it's a secret). 
Side note: My husband is, in my eyes, the greatest man in the world.  He made every meal yesterday without help, and did the dishes, AND almost did it again today.
I flopped down at the dinner table after a phone conversation about this project, looked at him, and said,

"Hunny, I think I need a blessing."

And do you know what he said?

"Okay."

I learned from a good friend of mine that when you get a blessing, you should write it down, that way "God knows He can trust you to remember what He says, so He'll say more."  I just finished translating and typing up my scrawl.

I am SO grateful I have a husband whom I can turn to at any moment and ask for a Priesthood blessing.  And it's all what I needed to hear, even though I didn't want to hear some of it.  Heavely Father is in control.

Sunrises

I had an interesting moment today.  When I work out, I have to listen to pretty specific music with a certain tempo; fast!  But my favorite part of working out is stretching.  In fact, 95% of the reason I work out is to warm up my muscles enough that I can stretch at the end (and not kill myself).  While I stretch, I sit near a large window and listen to slower music or church talks.  This morning when I started to stretch, the sun was up, but a neighboring house blocked the sun so I was still in the shadows.

The first song I chose was "Come, Come Ye Saints."  The Mormon Tabernacle Choir sings that song in such a way that brings a tear to my eye.

Side note: My husband and I downloaded the music from the last General Conference for free! (click on the little folder in a vice and it downloads into a zip file)

Back to the story: I continued to stretch and the song "O Divine Redeemer" began.  I wasn't really listening to the words much until the chorus came in...

"O, Divine Redeemer! O, Divine Redeemer! 

I pray Thee grant me pardon

and remember not - remember not, 

O Lord, my sins..." 

The moment I heard the first words "O, Divine redeemer," the sun dramatically came up over the neighboring house and shone it's first rays on my face.

To me, it didn't feel or seem very spectacular, but I did feel that it was a gentle reminder to me that Jesus is the Christ and that He, if we allow Him to, can bring the sunrises back into our lives when we feel like all is darkness and gloom.

Little Moments - Official Post #1

It's official. I'm branching out. I never felt right about writing about MY life on the FAMILY blog. So I've finally created my own blog, just for me.

When ever I think about updating the family blog my usual thought process is as follows:

Me: I think I should update the family blog.
Myself: Yes, it's been about a month.
I: And the song needs to be changed.
Myself: But what should I write about?
I: What's been happening in our hum drum lives as a family?
Myself: Well let me think...what's new?
Me: Um, new?
I: I can't think of anything new, or interesting for that matter.
Myself: So there's nothing interesting to write about?
Me: Nope.
I: Not that I can think of...wait! What about Christmas? That was new!
Me: Yes, but was it interesting? Interesting enough that people will WANT to read about it?
I: Oh, good point. Maybe I should wait until something else interesting happens.
Myself: Yes, I agree with that, plus you don't have the time anyway.
Me: I guess I have another month to think of something interesting to write about, until then, people will have to endure listening to Silent Night every time they check the family blog to see if it's been updated.

My problem? I want to leave the family blog for family events, not use it for my own thoughts and feelings. Call me weird, but it's caused writer's block for some time. (Don't worry, my husband doesn't understand it either.)

So welcome to little moments! I've so named it because I realized as I sat at the dinner table this evening that interesting blog authors don't talk about "this is what I did today." They write about little things or moments that impacted them.

So here goes nothing....