tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44744391430767453012024-03-13T04:52:39.538-07:00small town taylorJust writing about the things that matter. Working on keeping them front and center, and staying true to my small town roots.Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.comBlogger173125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-56517172880661977882020-05-14T13:03:00.000-07:002020-05-14T13:03:50.942-07:00Motherhood: A trial of fireThere's a concept I've never spoken out loud.<br />
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It felt too vulnerable and scary.</div>
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I don't even know that the voice constantly running in my head had put it into words. </div>
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Because words make it real and to be honest- I didn't want it to be real. </div>
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Because shame, and expectation, and upward progression... you know?</div>
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Then my sister in law threw it out in a family conversation one day. </div>
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We were laughing about our kids throwing fits during quarantine and how we're all losing our minds and our tempers a little and all of a sudden she said, "I think I was a better person before I became a mom." </div>
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It was my actual worst fear spoken out loud- and it hit me square in the chest. I had been scared to death, because for a while now, I've been feeling like I've become a worse person through motherhood instead of a better one. Because isn't that what people say? Motherhood made me more of myself, and filled with love, and stretched me, and made me so much better and less selfish....?</div>
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I had been listening from my bed (being pregnant and nauseous will do that to a girl) but I stood up and walked over to let her know that she had just spoken my truth. </div>
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Immediately every mother on that call laughed hysterically (in a very 'we feel you girl' type way) and my mother-in-law chimed in that she had said the same thing to my father-in-law when she was a young mother. </div>
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But how could this be?! Eternal progression! Why don't the trenches of motherhood and family life seem to be such a stretch for the "more of myself" moms?</div>
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But what if that progression.. the eternal kind... isn't a straight upward trajectory? What if you're on a path that leads to elevation 100, and you're at 95... but the Lord wants you to reach 1000, so He puts you on a path that starts back at 85, but you have potential on that path to get to 700? Divorce, death, job loss, failure, and radical change all can seem like a set back in the moment but often they put us on this beautiful (albeit often painful) growth trajectory. What if ease and comfort and routine and warm sunshine aren't the point? What if that trajectory is the point?</div>
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Anything that's worth doing is hard, so they say (whoever "they" is") but would it be hard, or challenging at all if it was just straight upward? If there weren't paths with some elevation loss, cloud cover, or shrubs blocking the view?<br />
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I think if we're working hard and constantly feeling the fruit of our labor it's more of a carrot before the horse situation that requires no faith. And although there have certainly been stretches of motherhood that have felt love-soaked and sacred (I always think of Rory at 18 months), I've had to practice a lot of faith. I haven't always been able to see the carrot. There hasn't always been love and bathtubs of giggles and hugs and sloppy kisses and I love yous before I lay them in their beds each night and it hasn't been all puzzles and sunshine and tickle fights each day either.<br />
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I think motherhood is the epitome of trial by fire. And I'm practicing faith for that gleaming diamond I'm turning into (I pray) at the end. I'm certainly still a lump of coal in the midst for now, but I get glimpses every once in a while. Of the diamond, the house being built, the majesty of the mountain through the shrubs. And it reminds me what path I'm on, and helps me continue to forge forward. On days there are carrots and on days when there aren't. <br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-49728257305022669142020-04-16T16:51:00.001-07:002020-04-16T16:51:28.027-07:00Seeking God's Will I've searched for God's will for me for a long long time. Every day in every circumstance (ok, not every circumstance, but like... a lot). And I'm going to be completely honest with you, I haven't always felt guided by Him.<br />
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DOES THAT BOTHER YOU?<br />
Yeah, me too. But don't leave yet.<br />
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I've felt watched over by him, yes. But very often I have felt alone in making decisions. And it feels terrible, doesn't it? The floating in the balance and wanting desperately to know what he wants for you? It's a righteous desire... so why doesn't He answer?<br />
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Sometimes, I think He wants us to choose. To exercise our agency- because 'it is not meet to be commanded in all things'. I think this one happens more often than not, and while it's sometimes annoying <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(maybe it's not for you.... but I am the kind of person who really wants to be doing the right thing... and knowing I"m doing the right thing.... and not wasting time..... I'm obviously not the adventurous type..)</span></i> it's fine. And doable. And we learn a lot in the process. </div>
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But the experience I want to talk about is one that is a little more touchy. The one where He withholds answers that you know you need. Not because He doesn't have anything to say. The experiences where you feel like you <i>need</i> and want guidance on his will, and you just kind of get crickets... </div>
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And for a long time it didn't make sense to me.<br />
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But the other day I was reading my scriptures and it clicked for me.<br />
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The Brother of Jared waited and wandered in the wilderness for YEARS. Like actual years.... seems rude.<br />
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But you know what else? He wasn't praying. Do you think if he was forgetting to PRAY he had the kind of faith to be like 'hey God, make these rocks glow please...'?<br />
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But that's the kind of faith He needed to do the thing the Lord was going to ask Him to do.<br />
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So why didn't the Lord just tell the Brother of Jared what He needed to do and hope that some direction would shape him up into who he was supposed to be?<br />
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I believe it's because the Lord is merciful. He is kind. And He wants for us to have the best chance we can at the best life we can possibly have.<br />
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Soooo I think sometimes He waits until He knows we are ready not only to listen, but also to act on what it is we hear. It presents a great litmus test, really....<br />
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Do I act when He tells me to do little things? When I have the prompting to reach out to someone, take a different route, or make more time for something in my life- do I really listen?<br />
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Those little promptings matter. I think sometimes the Lord uses us as His hands in these little moments and sometimes we learn that we were an answer to someone's prayer, or we were kept safe, or a myriad of other circumstances. But I would like to bring up the possibility that maybe sometimes they're little tests to see if we are listening, and if we're brave enough to act after we hear.<br />
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We are held to a higher standard if we know what He would have us do and don't do it. So in His mercy, God waits. He waits until He trusts that we are ready to step foot into what he has in store for us instead of sitting in the misery of knowing what we should do and standing idle.<br />
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He loves you. He wants to speak to you. He knows what's best for you. And He knows the perfect timing of our lives. I know it I know it I know it. </div>
Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-25867866927761922112020-02-20T14:47:00.002-08:002020-02-20T14:47:40.184-08:0029 29 things I've learned<br />
Meant to be written as a general list, but instead came out in a single sitting without pause as a bullet-listed letter to a younger me.<br />
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1. It doesn't serve you to feel anything but love and respect for your body, no matter how it looks.<br />
2. You get to choose to only keep thoughts that DO serve you if you want.<br />
3. You can do bigger things than you give yourself credit for.<br />
4. Fail big while you're still at home! If failure scares you there, it's going to scare you into paralysis when you leave.<br />
5. Listen to Macy and get a therapist. What the heck do you have to lose? It's not easier later.<br />
6. God is in the details. He really is. Try to see Him there-it's not hard I promise.<br />
7. The things that shine as "talents" in high school and college have no bearing on how a person's life turns out as an adult. (which is where most of your years are spent)<br />
8. Kiss a boy sooner than 20. It's not worth being so scared of, and it might help you open up and stop keeping everyone at arms distance (hint: that's not serving you)<br />
9. Confidence and arrogance are not the same thing. Confidence will serve you time and again.<br />
10. Say yes to the opportunities. I'm just barely starting to do this. But it's liberating to let go of the excuses when it's something you want.<br />
11. Enjoy the time you have with your family. And don't forget what a safe place that was- even when it gets painful. It's ok, maybe even crucial, to remember the good even when it all seems bad.<br />
12. Save money when you have no bills! I know it's hard, but you can do anything! I know it doesn't feel like it- but you actually are a grown up!<br />
13. It is possible to get better with age, even though everyone tells you to "enjoy it while you can" Weight, confidence, acne, relationships.... so many things can get better.<br />
14. You can even look better after babies than before (although enjoy your belly button, because it's never coming back #worthit)<br />
15. Honor your love of the outdoors. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal now, but you'll need it.<br />
16. You're an introvert. I know you've been told otherwise your whole life, but there's a reason your favorite part of girl's camp was sitting at the stream by yourself with your journal. Honor that too.<br />
17. Maintain the friendships that make you feel seen.<br />
18. Listen to the people that you trust most, but follow your gut every time. You feel things and there's a reason.<br />
19. Silence is ok too, but learn how to ask people questions. You'll never regret learning that skill.<br />
20. I know it seems like everybody already has a group of friends, but branch out at school when you lose all of yours. Everyone is lonely in high school, but nobody wants to say so.<br />
21. People will put their faith in you more than you feel you deserve. Thank them and believe them. That's enough to start.<br />
22. Do every kind thing.<br />
23. Buy what you like, not what your mom and sister like- you're style never does line up with theirs and it's ok to like what you like.<br />
24. You're going to go through some brutal heartbreak and you're going to feel simultaneously like you've been split wide open and crushed by ton of bricks all at once. You'll make it, and you'll think about all those church lessons where you wished you understood the depth of it, and you'll get it now. You will cry every once in a while, maybe for the rest of your life, but it will be worth it for the new depth with which you understand the gospel, if nothing else.<br />
25. You will find someone who loves you unconditionally. And I mean that. You're husband will love you for real, and not for all your outward accomplishments. He will show you what unconditional love actually is.<br />
26. On that note, he isn't who you're picturing now. He's totally different. But he's exactly what you need, and will help you become who God intends you to be.<br />
27. Don't wait. For anything. Theres no perfect timeline for anything.<br />
28. God gave you dreams. So many of them you could burst. It wasn't an accident.<br />
29. You're going to be ok. You're going to be more than ok.<br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-56879374500938431582020-02-13T20:32:00.001-08:002020-02-13T20:32:54.918-08:003 ways to have a better Valentines DayI am a romantic, but I'm not married to a romantic. And I've learned that I'm just a girl with some high expectations for..... well, for everything. So our first few Valentine's Days over here weren't exactly my favorite (not Jay's fault at all, to be clear). But I FREAKING LOVE VALENTINES DAY. And we really have rocked it the past few years (even though I'm a mom to small children and Jay has always worked all day) So if you're a cynic, or looking to make Valentines Day a day better this one is for you! I've compiled a list of things that have changed the game for me.<br />
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1. Make it about love in all it's forms.<br />
Don't just make Valentine's Day about receiving love! Know a single friend? Parent? Widow? Another mom of small kids? A teenager who might not receive a lot of love? Make it about showing love in all it's forms. Bake cookies with your kids. Go paint your grandma's nails or stop in for a chat. Go out to lunch with a single friend (one of our favorite traditions!) Paint your own nails and take yourself for your favorite starbucks. When I started focusing on the love I could GIVE it changed everything for me.<br />
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2. Don't do gifts if you don't want to do gifts!<br />
Last year Jay and I decided that we just really wanted a new sink for our kitchen, so we spent our money on something we really wanted and watching Jay install it was way better than a necklace! And if you want gifts, do gifts! but....<br />
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3. Be Crystal Clear about expectations.<br />
Some people are in the kind of relationship where their partner speaks their love language and inherently knows what to do to make them feel loved and special! And I'm so happy for them! But I think the reality is that most of us don't have that. Our spouses and Significant others aren't mind readers. So try something like "Hey, honey, I would really like to do [this] for Valentine's Day this year. Do you think we could make that happen?"<br />
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So if you're single, a cynic, married, or anywhere in between- I hope these help you to have the BEST day ever tomorrow! Show yourself (and your neighbor) some love.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-53851967558081053212020-02-06T13:39:00.002-08:002020-02-06T13:39:54.150-08:00how I do itI do a lot of things.<br />
I say that, but there's days (not infrequently) that I feel like I've accomplished nothing at the end of the day.<br />
But every time I talk on social media about the things I'm working on, I inevitably get some version of this question.....<br />
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"BUT WHERE ARE THE KIDS?!"<br />
Basically, you folks want to know how I do it and have two wild, needy, hungry, perfect, sweet, loud minions running around. And it's a good question that I would probably ask if I was outside my life looking in, too. So this is my attempt to answer it, because a simple phrase won't do the question justice. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Don't we all wish it was as simple as that. Can I be Molly Weasley and have brooms picking up after my children all day.... ?? #simplefix but I digress)</span></i><br />
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First, I'm going to tell you a story about the moment my pain to stay still became bigger than my pain to start.<br />
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When Rory was three weeks old we moved into a foreclosure. I mean, it didn't have to be gutted.... but it was definitely a foreclosure. The yard was made of weeds our dog could get lost in, the walls had all been painted a hideous brown by the foreclosure company, the carpets reeked of urine, and there were egg stains on the front from some teenage kids. Cute. But Overwhelming. The only thing we hired out was the floor installation <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(after a huge debacle ripping the nasty carpet out which included baby Rory strapped to my chest and a very mean trespassing goose.... a story for another time). </i></span><br />
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We were over the moon, regardless of the flaws. And Rory was colicky, and Jay was working long hours and exhausted every night, and I was totally overwhelmed with both my new situation and the enormity of the projects ahead. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(As a side note, I was raised in a house with a dad who preferred to hire out all maintenance, so although I had the heart for it, whether I had the skill was tbd) </i></span><br />
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Rory didn't nap at all at first, so I spent a lot of time holding her through naptime and staring at the ugly brown walls <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(as I watched countless hours of Gilmore Girls) </span></i>but then we got over that hurdle and I thought maybe I could do some things. But I didn't. EVERY, SINGLE wall and ceiling in this house needed to be painted... at a minimum. Not to mention the 137 nail holes in what must have been a poster-clad teenager's room upstairs. So I waited for Jay and I to find some magical hour where we weren't exhausted and didn't have more pressing projects that required a team. Months passed, and it just didn't happen. And I looked at those walls every day. And they were not quite sparking joy if you catch my drift.<br />
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But one day I had the realization that if I was intentional with the hour and a half that Rory napped each day, in one week I could have a room painted. And in 52 maybe I could actually do this myself. And I was tired of waiting. So I would prep before she fell asleep. Get my paint clothes on, get all the tools prepped and ready, and the moment she went down I would paint. I felt so empowered. Because I've been where you are, sitting and waiting for a time when I can do all these things I want to do. And I've been on the other side hustling with whatever time I have. Not scrolling, not waiting, not tidying, not delaying, just hustling. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(There are still days... lots of them... when I don't hustle like I should. But I've worked on it and I have more days than not when I chase dreams in my downtime)</span></i><br />
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So if you aren't here for stories here's the four things that I think are the most crucial to understanding how I do the things I do.<br />
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1- Just use what you have.<br />
I don't use fancy tools, and we've honestly never had much of a budget for these sort of things. I pay for the stuff I want to do with birthday giftcards and side hustle money selling used clothes. For painting the exterior of our house I literally started by using a roller because I just really wanted to start and if it took all summer I was going to do it <i style="font-size: small;">(Luckily, a neighbor saw me and took pity on me and my gumption... and we learned how to use his sprayer as we went!)</i> So learn on youtube, borrow tools when necessary, but mostly start where you are using what you have and go from there. In the words of Alison Robertson- DONE IS FUN!<br />
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2- Be ok with incremental progress<br />
This is huge- because it's not going to feel like an HGTV makeover show. Immediate gratification is nice, but working your tail off doing things yourself is so much less glamorous. There is sawdust and unfinished projects taking up space, etc. etc. etc. Sometimes for months. depending on the project. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(It's easy to think "oh my gosh! 8 posts ago she was starting and now she's done! But I started my closet in October so let that serve as a little reality check for us all) </i></span>We have never had a nanny <i style="font-size: small;">(although I just recently struck a trade deal for a couple hours a week with the girl down the street and I. AM. STOKED) </i>or a housecleaner, and for the first four years of the process I didn't even have a car so just do what you can. I've learned to leverage mornings, naptimes, clothing resale apps, and amazon prime. You can do anything you set your mind to, but just set your expectations on incremental but consistent(ish) progress... at least at first.<br />
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3- Your house won't be clean.<br />
It just won't, and from watching/knowing other women doing things like this (and not like this) I just can assure you that if you spend every spare moment in a week working on something that takes you away from your daily routine and chores, YOUR HOUSE WILL BE WRECKED. And unless you have a house cleaner, that's just a price you have to pay. Somebody said to me yesterday, "But your house is probably always clean" and I laughed out loud. They obviously don't know me well enough yet, because it's just not. really. ever.<br />
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4- Sometimes the kids will watch TV and eat less than ideal snacks<br />
This is self explanatory, but I always think of my kids playing in the dirt <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(oh, you thought we had a backyard!? Wrong you were!)</span></i> wearing their pajamas at 3pm while we painted the house exterior..... and I think they ate cheese sticks and cereal for dinner. You can't have it all. The illusion of a perfectly clean house, perfectly groomed children, and sh*t getting done all at the same time is just that... an illusion.<br />
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So there it is. I work slowly, with what I have, sometimes with help but a lot by myself. Some days my kids are a little wilder and the work halts or progresses more slowly. But I've learned to manage expectations and be pleased by progress. Both my time and my budget are small, but my impact can be big if I just give it time. I'll be over here working if you need me.<br />
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And now a couple before and afters, because what's more satisfying than that?!<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*and a blurred out bra because there aint no going back to take new 'Before' pictures now!*</span></i><br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-36058694901161413722020-01-30T19:08:00.000-08:002020-01-30T19:08:30.200-08:00don't you dare let them make you feel little This story has been coming to my mind over and over lately. It was in college and I was on a date with the kind of boy who just couldn't make up his mind about me (I encountered a lot of those). It was like... I looked really good on paper and there wasn't anything "wrong" with me that they could put a finger on, so they just waited. Hoping they would like me enough to be serious... eventually. And as you can likely guess, that eventually never did come. Not for any one of them.<br />
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So here I was on my umpteenth date with this boy. He was handsome and older than me and we were driving in his car going somewhere. The windows were down, so it must have been summer. Somehow (gosh I have no idea how) the subject came around to deodorant or things that tasted bad or who even knows. But I said, "Have you ever tasted deodorant though? It. tastes. AWFUL.". He looked at me like I was some kind of oddity in a museum and laughed at me like I was an idiot.<br />
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Then, he proceeded to make me feel little.<br />
He taunted and teased and wouldn't let it go. He kept making me smaller and smaller.<br />
He made me feel crazy.</div>
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I kept trying to defend myself, but he kept coming back to how on earth I would know what it tastes like. And I felt so small and belittled and and embarrassed and couldn't think of why.<br />
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Maybe I <i>am</i> weird, I thought (this is called gaslighting, look it up, and run if you are dating this person). I knew there was some logical reason I knew what I knew, but I felt so little sitting there in the front seat that I just awkwardly laughed and tried to hold back tears. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I forgot about that conversation for a long time until one day I licked my finger and tried to rub off a spot on my shirt. But what I thought was toothpaste wasn't toothpaste- it was deodorant. And when I went to lick my thumb to get the rest off, that AWFUL taste came flooding back to my memory and I remembered the perfectly normal, very human thing that I had done to learn what deodorant tastes like. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I was mad at myself for a long time over that. I had let him make me feel little when he had no right to. I could have said something, I <i>should</i> have said something!<br />
<br />
Nobody ever has a right to your feelings of self worth, but there will be people who will take it and run anyways. You know, maybe he was raised like that. Maybe that was a knee-jerk, nervous response to a comment that made him feel uncomfortable <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(because heaven help them, but some people are weird talking about hygiene?)</span></i>. Maybe he has grown out of it, or realized it... I don't know. What I do know is this: I'm not little. I'm not worth a little, I don't shine a little, my potential doesn't equate to a little. And nobody holds the right to make me feel that way. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
And I should have known in that very moment that I didn't want to be on constant dates with someone who made me feel anything less. I didn't then, but I do now. And I got really lucky to get Jay who thinks I can do anything in the whole world.<br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-16385075466557898052020-01-23T17:24:00.001-08:002020-01-23T17:24:21.433-08:00the why of church attendance. Everybody who has ever been a regular church attender asks themselves the same question at some point- "why?"<br />
<br />
If I have a relationship with Christ and I'm being a good person- why?<br />
<br />
Well, I've found my mind wandering back to this part of my conversion lately, and often. And maybe you have too.<br />
<br />
There are many answers to this question and I think we all have multi-faceted reasons to come to church. However, there's one I’ve thought about that resonates with me and I really feel like rings true to my heart.<br />
<br />
Church gives me the framework to serve. It connects me to people who I can interact with and learn from, and grow together with... which I think is an integral part of the growth of our souls. Our souls yearn for family and people and connection and service. Our souls yearn for Christlike outward focused experience.<br />
<br />
And maybe you're thinking I'm missing the point. Don't we all go to church to feel close to God? To feel the influence of the Holy Ghost? Well, yes. That too. But for me, the older I've gotten the more that is an added benefit. It's the wonderful, hoped for, cherry on top.<br />
<br />
But sometimes you're walking the halls with a crying baby, or nursing in the mothers lounge or distracted by trying to keep your toddler occupied and quiet during sacrament. And these are the more realistic moments for me. So if I start a conversation or feel connected to a sister in Relief Society or the nursing lounge or teach something new that gets a smile or a shared impression out of one of the girls I teach I count it as a worthwhile Sabbath.<br />
<br />
And when I switch my focus to doing that half of it, I almost always more frequently feel that spirit and closeness with God I so long for. I think our souls are on a wavelength where they are more susceptible to that Spirit when we are focused outward.<br />
<br />
I think there are a million worthy reasons to attend church, but for today, in this current phase and moment, that's mine.<br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-51892800141277944052020-01-16T13:04:00.000-08:002020-01-16T13:04:51.241-08:00Taking the hard medicineRory tested positive for the flu almost two years ago at the end of March, which happened to coincide with the start of croup and a nether-regions irritation requiring baking soda baths (thanks, sensitive skin). The poor thing was miserable. There were high fevers and body aches and gnarly, painful coughs, etc etc. But honestly? The hardest thing was the tamiflu.<br />
<br />
We caught the flu in time to get her started on tamiflu, which was a miracle for this (then) pregnant mama. I would have taken anything to shorten those symptoms. But after the first dose she decided she didn't like it, nor did she want to take it.<br />
<br />
There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, literally. There were, of course, preemptive conversations trying to explain why she needed to take the medicine. There was bribing and sugar coating and every trick our frazzled minds could think of. But then, there was flat refusal. Unwavering, tireless, strong-willed refusal.<br />
<br />
But the medicine still had to be taken. And it had to be taken now.<br />
<br />
Our sweet (and spicy) two-year old didn't care about tamiflu's timeline, or mine. So weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth there was. There was screaming. There was blood. There was hitting and biting and every sort of fight. I would do all I could to get it in, but often had to bring out reinforcements and hold her down. She was furious, and miserable. But the medicine had to be taken and we knew it would be best for her to do it now.<br />
<br />
Every day I tried to explain once again that if she just took the medicine (emphasizing that I <i>knew</i> it was yucky) it could be over sooner and we could feel well and do all sorts of fun things. I tried to tell her that this was going to help her get better faster... because remember how bad it feels to have the flu?<br />
<br />
Then one day a switch flipped. Nothing had changed, but she decided she would take the medicine. And take it she did- Without so much as a whimper.<br />
<br />
The warm sun streamed through the window as we sat there on her little bed together and I had this epiphany. Really hard things happen to us in our lives. The theoretical flu<i> </i>hits us out of nowhere and brings us to our knees, hiding under covers with our bodies shaking. Lucky for us, there is medicine. There is a healing balm provided for each ailment. And there's a Savior who knows the required treatment. And it might not taste like cookies. It might taste like forgiveness when it's hard. It might taste like repentance. It might taste like work and therapy and letting go.<br />
<br />
Does taking the provided medicine make our ailments disappear immediately? No. And certainly the more painful and serious the flu the longer it may take to heal. But does that mean that we shirk our medicine after the first dose? Of course not.<br />
<br />
And like my girl, we can fight the medicine as the Lord tries so lovingly to administer it. Though he doesn't force it on us, we may weep and wail and gnash under the pressure of knowing what we should do and NOT wanting to do it. Honestly, we may be sick for a long time before we open our eyes to see him sitting there, on our little twin bed in the sunlight- waiting. We may fight the medicine he offers for days, we may fight it for years.<br />
<br />
But God willing there will come a day if we so choose, when we just stop fighting. When for some reason it clicks, or maybe we are just so desperate to get rid of the sludge in our chest that we sit in the sunlight and take the medicine. That we revel in the recovery. And I hope that day comes sooner than later, where we sit in the sunlight with the Lord and let him heal us.<br />
<br />
<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-61599365879998662592020-01-09T21:38:00.002-08:002020-01-09T21:38:32.152-08:00How big are your feelings?I'm writing more now, obviously.<br />
<br />
But I had the distinct thought the other day that I might not be writing for anybody out there. Maybe I'm writing for me, maybe I'm writing not for something to propel me forward, but as a way to just get the thoughts in my mind out on paper. Maybe I'm writing so that when I have something to write I will be in practice. Maybe so that when God reveals His purpose I have people to listen.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I don't know. I just know I need to write.<br />
<br />
What if I was gone tomorrow and I was waiting until I had 'something' to write? What if I hadn't written anything down for my children to remember me by? Hadn't told my story.<br />
<br />
My great great great grandfather wrote a small autobiography. He must have written it toward the end, it wasn't very long. He was a complicated man with a complicated story.<br />
<br />
I wish I knew more of his mind as well as his story. There's a lot that came down the line from him to future generations, good and bad. Maybe if he had shared those lessons (if he had learned them) some of the heartache that came from his troubles and propensities could have been hedged. We will never know.<br />
<br />
I know I think I'm sharing sometimes. Posting on instagram. Writing small updates in my journal when I have the chance. But I have a complicated mind, one that doesn't stop. One that bursts with thoughts during every waking moment of the day. Snippets just don't seem to paint my picture.<br />
<br />
It helps me to be alone in my mind. To sit in it. To feel it. To try to understand it. What if everyone in this world understood their own mind? What would be different?<br />
<br />
I have struggled with bouts of anxiety, depression, overwhelm, sadness. I'm a big feeler... but I wasn't always. Or at least I wasn't a big expresser... (Is that a word? You get it.)<br />
<br />
It wasn't until I married Jay and he became this safe space that I think I finally gave myself license to <i>feel</i> my big feelings. To feel them and look them in the face instead of stuffing them and letting them resurface as disordered eating and unhealthy exercise. Coming through as overworking and over-scheduling. Who needs to feel when you don't have two seconds to rub together?<br />
<br />
I came from an family who shoved a lot of big feelings under the rug. There wasn't a lot of safe space for feelings. Be good. Excuses aren't valid. Don't cry- make a plan to fix it, you know..<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(And really, they were just doing the best they knew how. They wanted us to be good kids, and I feel those same instincts with my own kids. I get it. So I shoved. And I was a freaking good kid according to the checklist)</span></i><br />
<br />
Then I got engaged to Jay and the feelings became too much to bear. Maybe that was the collateral beauty of my parents marriage beginning it's rapid decline months before my wedding day. It was more than I could keep in. Too painful. Too close to "take care of" before getting married. So I felt my big feelings. I cried them into Jay's lap in a basement classroom, in his car at the top of Y Mountain, many days in our crackerjack apartment those first few months.<br />
<br />
And he proved he was safe.<br />
<br />
And I stopped stuffing feelings. And slowly stopped eating them. And started to sit in them.<br />
<br />
And started exploring why I felt them. And started trying to understand myself better.<br />
<br />
And it took time, but it worked.<br />
<br />
It's easy for me to get caught in a trap of feeling like I have too many feelings. Like my emotions are too big and complicated. Like I am too big and complicated. My daughter got it too, the big feelings. But lately I've been trying to remind myself that God made me this way. He made me to feel big, and I was that way before I came here- I know that. And when I tell her the same thing the truth of it rings clear.<br />
<br />
So here I am- in all my big feelings. Expressing the good and the bad. Not because I want sympathy, not because I love to over-share <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(believe me here- privacy is a much easier row to hoe)</span></i> Because someday if I succeed I don't want anybody to say, "Oh, another success story" I want somebody, anybody to say, "Hey, I saw myself in her story. Maybe I could do that too." Or more importantly for my daughter to know my story and say "I feel like that, and I can do this."Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-20774442074508886802020-01-06T05:26:00.000-08:002020-01-06T05:26:02.227-08:00You are not worthlessSatan is good at this.<br />
<br />
This message that we are too old, too broken, too worn... that we are worthless.<br />
<br />
We live in a world, where when something is broken- it gets replaced. It doesn't get lovingly patched, or glued and clamped and polished back to its former glory (or rebuilt to a completely new and improved state). It gets thrown out and replaced with something newer, shinier.. less... worthless.<br />
<br />
I don't believe that. I never have. The fact that you are still here, that you are still standing begs to differ.<br />
<br />
You see, you just need the touch of the right hands. To be seen by the right eyes. The eyes of somebody who knows your spirit, and not your facts<span style="font-size: xx-small;">**</span>. Never have I seen more unique and beautiful pieces of furniture than I have in a store full of items someone chose to leave behind. Never. Some are broken, most are mendable, and all can be useful (and beautiful) to the right person. Actual treasures disguised as misfits.<br />
<br />
But you see, the fact that they are still here usually means that they are made from solid wood. Their current situation means NOTHING about their actual worth. Nothing. It just means that somebody else didn't see it. But their worth has not somehow run out. I admire the hell out of those solid wood bones, and buttery, worn, leather cushions. The grit of the upholstery fabric that's made it through 50 years of use, and the outdated wedding dresses.<br />
<br />
I believe this because it just speaks plainly as truth to me. But aside from that, believing this makes the world a less hopeless place. It makes the world a place full of hidden treasures instead of mismatched throw-aways. A simple change in perspective makes it that, but it already existed that way and always has.<br />
<br />
Something inside of me feels connected to this idea. The concept of rebirth and renewal. In repurposed clothing and furniture, in lovingly cared for and transformed homes. Sometimes it's a new coat of stain or paint and sometimes old floors and walls are ripped out entirely. But I think that's the most satisfying thing in my life. Finding something or someone and seeing them. Really seeing them. Sometimes it takes work, and sometimes it's a gift granted. But I hope you have that experience someday.<br />
<br />
Maybe it all speaks to me because I am not plastic. I've never felt perfect or shiny. I have however, after much effort, felt new.<br />
<br />
I am not disposable. I am strong, rich, warm wood and can be made new again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">**As a side not, I believe God can be this for each of us because we each will feel like nobody knows us at one point in our life... it's just part of the human experience</span>Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-30553507493375555562019-09-09T18:10:00.000-07:002019-09-09T18:10:14.218-07:00the hot buttonThere's been a LOT of talk going around about social media, to be sure.<br />
And I think it's warranted. It's new stuff, and prevalent, and has this ability to suck us in.<br />
It's msn messenger (aol, whatever it was you used) on steroids.<br />
There's this ability for instant gratification and also instant disappointment,<br />
as well as the ability to compare ourselves constantly and not just during school hours.<br />
The combination of all of it can be a little dangerous and overwhelming.<br />
<br />
All the things that were present before in the form of instant messenger,<br />
school, yearbooks, dances, writing notes in class, and lunchtime gossip<br />
are now present in our hands literally at any moment we choose to engage.<br />
<br />
That's a lot of anxiety for me to even think about. <br />
<br />
It's not just teenagers either. People of all ages are taking part in social media.<br />
And there's a lot of talk about cutting it out completely.<br />
<br />
But I want to bring up a thought that I feel is severely misrepresented in the conversation.<br />
Because I struggled with comparison and self-love and alllll of the above as a teenager.<br />
More than I can or should adequately convey here.<br />
<br />
But I have no hard feelings toward social media. I don't walk away feeling less-than,<br />
or insecure or ugly or depressed. Which seems unlikely when considering my past history and general place in life currently. Not actively in the work force, living a single-income, single-vehicle (for the four years before I wrote this) life with a small family. In a small town.<br />
<br />
Despite all this, I (largely) love and enjoy social media. Most often, I walk away feeling inspired and uplifted and empowered. And of COURSE there are times when I compare myself or feel my debilitating perfectionism creep it, but usually it is short-lived and<i> no more frequent</i> than my life before social media arrived.<br />
<br />
So I've thought a lot about why that is. I've bored poor Jay to death having pillow talk about why this is such an issue in our world, why it hasn't been an issue for me, and what we can do together to keep our kids safe from the negative side of it all as they grow. Some of my conclusions are these...<br />
<br />
A safe social media space is key:<br />
<br />
-A rule I made for myself a long time ago was that I wouldn't follow anyone unless I would say hi to them if I saw them in person. And I live in Utah, and I see quite a lot of them. And some of my followers/friends have done this for me too. I have been reached out to at the gym and in line at Cafe Rio and in the dressing rooms at Nordstrom Rack, and have had to test myself on this when I saw Late with Kate at Joann or Alison Robertson outside Sodalicious. The reason I believe in this principle is that it takes people down off whatever pedestal you've got them on and keeps you grounded in reality when you scroll your feed. People are just people..... and so the next time you see them on your feed you don't compare, you are allowed to admire them (or something they've built/done) but also view them as a human.<br />
<br />
-Cut out anything that makes you feel less-than. This one is easier said than done. It feels weird to unfollow people, and some people keep track of that stuff and won't follow people who don't follow them... so you may lose followers. But life does not revolve around how many followers you have. In fact, your daily life likely won't be affected if you lose a few. But your mental health <i>will </i>be affected if your feed is filled with people who make you feel less-than... whatever the reason. So do the hard thing. Unfollow people's posts on Facebook if they are negative, and unfollow someone on Instagram who makes you feel down. (*Note: if someone's posts always uplift you and make you feel happy and inspired, like and comment on those things and you will see more of them! Facebook and Instagram have algorithms that show you more of the things you interact with).<br />
<br />
-Fill your feed with whatever it is that inspires you and lifts you up. If that's incredible photography or boss-babe moms who have built amazing careers while raising babies, or businesses who you think do great work, or just regular people (or in my husband's case, memes)... then search them out and fill your feed with that thing.<br />
<br />
-Lastly, keep things in perspective. When you see a beautiful image remind yourself how much time and effort it took to get that image. It's no fair to anyone involved to think people look perfect all the time and with no effort. To build anything (large social media following or lifestyle blog included) ANYBODY has to put in a lot of time, effort, consistency, and hard work.<br />
<br />
<br />
Basically, I think we have control over what we consume and we can cater social media to be what we want it to be.<br />
<br />
My husband likes to use social media as a brain break. He follows a lot of funny meme accounts and a few friends/family.<br />
<br />
I like to use mine as a place to connect and be inspired by other women building businesses and families. So that's who I follow.<br />
<br />
Some people I know like to follow fashion bloggers for outfit inspiration. Or home accounts for home decor inspiration, Or DIY accounts, etc. Just think about what fills you up and gets you excited and follow that thing.<br />
<br />
Basically... you do you, boo because there's not one right or wrong way to use social media! If someone uses it to post pretty pictures, that's their prerogative! If a person chooses to open up and foster a community of connection- power to them! A caveat about that too: While I think being authentic and fostering connection is great, I don't think everybody has to use their platform that way and I don't think it's our job to call them out if they aren't. If they are portraying a reality that puts them on someone's pedestal for their clean kitchen and perfect children, I can promise you it's not making their life easier. Move on if it bothers you, and follow along if it inspires you.<br />
<br />
So join me in reclaiming what you want from these social media platforms and putting parameters on the time you want to spend there. They can be GREAT ways to connect with people and share information and ideas, but that's only if you're using them that way. And they can be dangerous if we aren't aware and informed on the ways they are affecting us. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(sidetone: the studies are finally starting to show us what social media can do from a psychological perspective, which is important to know as well! Know better, do better)</span></i><br />
<br />
I'm not perfect, but I'm working on it. And I think that's enough.<br />
<br />
<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-13366798242813705492018-08-19T08:21:00.000-07:002018-08-19T08:21:17.650-07:00Cooper James: the birth storyI was pretty vocal about the fact that I wanted to go into labor by myself if there was any way possible. With Rory I was induced several days overdue and had only progressed to a 2 so I was really trying to help my body along through exercise, stripping membranes, etc etc. Needless to say, nothing helped. I'm beginning to think that maybe it's not possible. I mean, my mom was induced at least a week overdue with all her children... so it's not out of my realm of possibilities.<br />
<br />
Because I had a relatively smooth (and quick) induction with Rory, my OB office was willing to let me choose when I would like to schedule an induction starting as early as 39 weeks. Still, I wanted to give my body the full 40 weeks to do what it could before I made that call. At this point, I had also made a very careful and thought-through decision about wanting to do natural childbirth (no epidural) and I knew that decision was going to be much harder with piton contractions vs natural contractions. So we were in in for the 40 week long haul at minimum.<br />
<br />
I scheduled induction for my due date for several reasons, but turns out God was in the details on that decision. We arrived at the hospital just after 6:15 on a Monday morning, neither of us having slept well the night before. After miscarrying last summer, I struggled with a good amount of anxiety this pregnancy and was anxious to have my baby boy in my arms and know he was ok. They had me set up in a room by 7 o'clock, but before the doctor would break my water, he wanted to finish a c-section so that he could be with me in the case of any mishaps.<br />
<br />
So he broke my water around 8:45 and the contractions started coming here and there for a while. They checked me at 10am and I had progressed to a 4, which I was pleased with, but at the next 11am check I was still at a 4, which was disappointing. The 12 noon check was where things started getting wild. They measured me at a 5, but after they left the contractions started to come really strong and close together. At this point I told Jay "I'm not sure if I can do this" because if I continued at this pace I would be having stronger contractions than this for the next several hours- and they were already verging on unbearable.<br />
<br />
By 12:30 I had to go to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. Jay came to help me out of bed and get my cords situated, but I didn't make it out of bed before another contraction hit. As soon as the wave of pain was over, I got up and didn't quite make it to the bathroom before another came and I had to hunch over and grab the counter for support. That bathroom break I had the urge to push, which came as a complete shock to me. I thought maybe it was a fluke (I had an epidural from 7.5 on with Rory so the urge to push was faint at best) and got back to bed. The next contraction came on strong and the same urge to push came back, but undeniable now. I told Jay to call the nurses and they came rushing. By this time it was around 12:40 and the contractions were brutal and so close together I could hardly relax between. They measured me at a 7, and said they guessed the baby would be here in the next thirty minutes. The doctor was called, came quickly, and by 1 o'clock I was pushing.<br />
<br />
After his head was delivered several things happened. First, the doctor told me to stop pushing for a minute and try to rest my body between my contractions. Second, he commented that "this is a big baby!" and asked the nurses if I had gestational diabetes, to which they responded no. (Gestational diabetes increases the likelihood of having a bigger baby)<br />
<br />
Next I was told to pull my legs toward me as I pushed and a nurse and Jay stood on each side to help push them back with me. After maybe two pushes this way they laid my perfect, healthy baby boy on my chest, which will always and forever be my favorite part. It's a moment I dream about the whole pregnancy. Being relieved of the pain of labor, released from the discomfort of pregnancy, and having that baby placed on your chest. The nurses placing a warm blanket over the two of you. Nothing matters in that moment.<br />
<br />
Turns out his shoulders had been stuck (thus, the pushing of my knees) and the doctor was shocked I was able to deliver Rory 5 days late without complications. He suggested I be induced at 39 weeks with all my subsequent children to prevent a much worse outcome. I now strongly feel that my long, skinny firstborn was a blessing in disguise as was my decision to be induced on my due date and no later.<br />
<br />
Cooper came in weighing just under 8 pounds, but was only 19 inches, which made him almost two inches shorter than Rory. Stocky little guy!<br />
<br />
The doctor had given me a second degree episiotomy, but I tore past it during labor. He called it "a really bad two" with the caveat that they "don't prefer calling it a three", but the nurses all just called it a 3. As he stitched me up, he mentioned that I was losing a lot of blood and gave me some (super fun) cytotec to help stop the bleeding. At the next check (you know, the fun one where they push really hard on your newly very squishy and tender stomach..) I was still losing too much blood and they administered another dose of cytotec and a shot in my leg as a last resort to stop the bleeding. They told me not to eat and warned me that if it didn't stop they would have to take me back for some more invasive probing of/surgery on my nether regions. None of this sounded ideal to me. They weren't sure what was happening, because my placenta was delivered whole and my uterus seemed to be firm.. so they were guessing that it may be a tear which I guess can happen when labor goes so quickly.<br />
<br />
Regardless, after a few checks the bleeding slowed and they continued to give me the stomach press every fifteen minutes for the next two hours to monitor me before I went to recovery. The doctor also ordered that I receive three extra bags of pitocin to help me contract and make sure the bleeding stayed under control. (pleasant, to be sure)<br />
<br />
Neither of my birth stories were completely without a measure of trauma, but I just feel so grateful to have been a part of bringing these two beautiful healthy babies into the world. So so grateful for them and that handsome guy by my side who supports and stands by me at all times, but especially in times like these.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-6897511697896355122018-08-11T17:06:00.001-07:002018-08-11T17:06:24.011-07:00The final stretch(Rewind several weeks with me if you will)<br />
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I haven't written much.<br />
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This pregnancy, and certainly this final trimester have been a completely different ballgame from my pregnancy with Rory. At this point in my pregnancy with Rory, we were a few weeks away from moving to Utah, I had stopped working and had nothing left to do but sit by my parents pool and have my mom paint my toenails.<br />
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I couldn't set up a nursery, I didn't have any house projects to do. I was by all accounts...bored, and dealing with a bad case of sciatica and (by 39 weeks) a severely bruised tailbone.<br />
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This pregnancy couldn't be more different. I'm two weeks to my due date, and in no hurry. I mean, of course there are days where my body is exhausted, and I'm always excited to meet my baby but every day is so full and insane and my check list will never be checked by the time he arrives so I'm just trying not to think about how little time we have left to prepare.<br />
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In some ways I've felt a lot better a lot longer this pregnancy. But I'm also just so much more tired this time around. I have a three year old with constant needs and a household that requires keeping and a million projects to do and also a wedding to help plan. (did I mention my brother gets married four weeks after I give birth?)<br />
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I've also had experienced a lot more Braxton hicks and just general contractions than I did with Rory but it's so hard to tell whether that's because I'm better at recognizing when they're happening or if they actually are happing more frequently.<br />
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Aside from that, I've had some weird symptoms that I had formerly only read about but never experienced. Numbness in my hands when I work with them up for too long or fall asleep in the wrong position, and swelling in my feet when I'm on them for too long or on them for a full day at all.<br />
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At 36 weeks I was not dilated at all, at 37 only to a 1, and at 38 weeks I'm still only a 1 (though I'm 60% effaced, so it looks good for if I have to have another induction!)<br />
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I will say, however, that today the doctor offered to strip my membranes which is the first piece of hope I've had of this baby coming anytime before 40 weeks. I'm currently trying to be as prepared as possible and trying not to get my hopes up too high but still remaining hopeful that I may go into labor on my own.<br />
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In other news, Rory is the sweetest future big sister. She hugs and kisses and rubs my belly all day long.<br />
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So here's to all the pineapple I can eat, all the lunges my pregnant body can handle, and apparently several date shakes (that everyone seems to swear by) in hopes to get my body doing this thing on it's own! And if not, we will wait a few weeks and meet baby boy then.<br />
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As an added update, all that extra preparation and work trying to get him out didn't seem to be for nothing. I lost my mucus plug, Cooper dropped (Rory never did before her induction), and the membrane stripping may have worked had I gone and worked out a little harder afterward because the contractions were serious for several hours.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-67265635519797582712018-06-20T12:55:00.000-07:002018-06-20T12:55:17.980-07:00My perfect three year old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Rory at 3:</div>
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Says something along the lines of "thank you for making us dinner mom. it's delicious" most nights. </div>
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Has more than one book memorized and about 5 million songs (including the greatest showman soundtrack, every Daniel Tiger song, and several hymns and Taylor Swift songs)</div>
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Can keep up with adults in conversation with ease. </div>
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Tells papa often that she's brave enough to ride horses, but jury is still out on whether that's true. </div>
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Is a little on the bossy side, which most often I can appreciate. Ain't nobody going to step on our girl.</div>
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Loves "spinny dresses" (meaning any dress) and has a tribe of stuffed animals that she mothers. </div>
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Is more excited than anything to be a big sister and talks/sings to/kisses my stomach every single day.</div>
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Is still an introvert like her mom and dad, but is starting to love playing with friends more and more.</div>
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Finally has hair! And curls at that! We waited a long time for this moment and are loving it.</div>
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Has really hard three year old moments, but makes up for them with sincere apologies and songs.</div>
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Has started to argue with me like an adult. It can be maddening....and sometimes hilarious.</div>
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Can mostly be reasoned with, though she's so smart that it HAS to be thorough reasoning. </div>
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Is pretty obedient to her ok-to-wake light and once it goes off comes to our bed to cuddle. It's one of our favorite times of day- just unstructured time to snuggle as a family. </div>
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Jay has started working from home and at least twice per day she asks if she can go down and give him a hug and kiss if she goes very very quietly. If he's not on a call I always say yes because somehow she's always true to her word and goes silently then comes straight back. </div>
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Loves pink and purple and balloons and crowns and purses. and tutus and all things little girl.</div>
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Thanks Heavenly Father for Jesus and mom and dad and Boo and the baby in every prayer. </div>
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Calls her personal prayers before bed "little girl prayers" and always tells me I can say the family prayer then she will say the little girl prayer. I once commented on how well she slept the night before and she responded, "it's because I said a prayer that I would have good dreams", which she does pray for nightly.</div>
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Is still a clean little chunk and is on the verge of a panic attack anytime she spills on her clothes or has something sticky on her hands. </div>
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Thinks it's fun to sleep in the baby's crib and sleeps there some nights since it's set up in her room. </div>
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Had a birthday party where all of her people showed up, which included some of her nursery friends, 7 year olds and teenage kids, my college roommates, our neighbors, her great grandparents, and my visiting teacher. She has the ability to engage and make friends with most anybody.</div>
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Any time my dad or Jay said happy birthday to her (she shared a birthday weekend with Father's Day this year) she responded with "Happy Father's Day" and was happy as anything to share her day with them. We love her more than words can say and are so proud of the intelligent, thoughtful, clean, empathetic, independent, and loyal little person she's becoming more of each day. </div>
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-76281467070300707552018-02-16T20:12:00.000-08:002018-02-16T20:12:43.900-08:00First trimester: the good, the bad, the nauseaThis pregnancy has been hard to be excited about more than nervous for. I guess that's what a miscarriage does to you. I didn't mind telling close friends about my pregnancy after two healthy ultrasounds, but I still hesitate to press publish on anything public. I sit here at almost 13 weeks just barely writing something down for the first time, and still not sure when it will be shared.<br />
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The only thing I can say, is it has to be sooner than later because bumps don't hide themselves for long on a third pregnancy. It's like your body has muscle memory and remembers what's coming and just decides to go ahead and do the dang thing earlier rather than later. I mean, I already have the stretch marks, so may as well get some room going for that little prune size baby and its accompanying home <i>before</i> we get uncomfortably tight. </div>
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The nausea has been ever-present, and though it has slowed considerably, it still rears its lovely head every night around 9 to... lull me to sleep. Punk. It was present through the move, and through Christmas, and through being at our new house every night until ungodly hours installing floors while Rory slept. Still no puking- not that I anticipated any after my 15 year clean streak. I used to feel a little sorry for myself that I couldn't throw up when I was so nauseous, but after hearing from other mamas that pregnancy barf doesn't relieve any nausea like the flu does, I cut that right out. Faking non-sickness is a lot easier when you don't have to run to the bathroom to lose your lunch.<br />
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And now it's just past 14 weeks and here we are. Sporting a bump that I feel like is the same size as 19 weeks with Rory, finally not absolutely NEEDING a nap while Rory naps (though often I still would like to), getting a little more organized at home, and not dreading cooking (though still dreading the nighttime hours when the nausea rears its head).<br />
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We're still doing the one car gig, which honestly takes some stress off of me because I sit in my bed and do research for things online instead of feeling like I should be out and about with my two year old. We play at home, and I fully enjoy being her mom. Though I should say, I have to watch my temper with her more than I usually do (dang hormones make everything harder).<br />
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And today... gaining speed on that 18 week mark, I'm finally getting around to (hopefully) polishing off this post. I get asked regularly how I'm feeling. And mostly, I'm feeling good! The glorious second trimester is here, we are coming up on all the exciting stuff like the fetal anatomy ultrasound, decorating a nursery, and actually feeling like I can tackle more than just keeping Rory alive and living for the next nap.<br />
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I am trying REALLY hard to keep up with exercise, mostly for my health but also to try and keep aches and pains at bay and (cross my fingers!) have an easier recovery than last time. Because I definitely cried real tears when I was out of pain pills after having Rory. The exercise front has been tough since we are in a new city, with less space, and no gym membership close but I've been getting in a workout twice a week and I can still run a mile without cramping which I'm counting as a win.<br />
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Overall, this pregnancy has been far from hard compared to what a lot of women go through, but the second trimester itself is less breezy than it seemed to be with Rory. Maybe I'm older, maybe I am just using more energy and mental capacity keeping up with a two year old. Either way, I am just so happy for a (so far) uncomplicated and healthy pregnancy and a body that is taking it in stride. What a miracle.<br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-45465949730098503462017-11-30T20:04:00.002-08:002017-11-30T20:04:48.759-08:00sweat the small stuffWe've had a million showings on our house and just generally a LOT to do after those were over the last couple months. And gosh, I'm tired.<br />
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But through all the cleaning and prepping and packing, as it does, my mind has been doing a lot of thinking and drawing parallels and coming to conclusions. Something that has come to the forefront of my mind the most is this concept of the small stuff vs. the big stuff.</div>
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We all put off the big things sometimes. I do, at minimum. The mopping floors, cleaning all the baseboards, the huge painting projects, etc. etc. But you know what I put off more often? <i>The small stuff.</i> The packing a couple more boxes in free moments here and there. The keeping up with the dishes before there's a whole sink full. There finishing a small project instead of starting a new one. The taking five minutes to meditate...to read...to shower.<br />
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Satan has this insane way of making us feel hopeless. The "I haven't done it in several days/months/years, so if I don't do it for one more day it will make no difference." "Or I'm so overwhelmed with everything I don't know where to start."<br />
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So instead of taking a small step and putting another couple drops in that bucket of things we have to do, we just... don't. We waste time, we lose ourselves in social media for an hour, we look through a meaningless catalogue sitting on the counter, we stare at the wall, we start another project instead of finishing one that needs attention. Even if we just do one, or two, or three small things to put a drop in our bucket of "small stuff" each day; at the end of each week we have a dozen or more extra drops and at the end of the year we have hundreds or thousands.<br />
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What I'm really saying here is that if I/you/we sweat the small stuff.. if I put one foot in front of the other... even if they are small steps, the big stuff really seems more manageable. If I read a chapter every day, the test on the concepts seems easier. If I keep the house tidy, the deep cleaning doesn't seem so mind-blowingly huge. When I check in and keep up with my friendships, it doesn't seem like such a daunting task to call or know what to do when something catastrophic happens to them (or me). When I feel a little distance or detect a small problem between Jay and I, if I have the small conversation then it keeps bigger harder conversations from being necessary. The list could go on (and leave in a comment what situation it makes you think of for you!)<br />
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I want to be the kind of person who sees what needs to be done, and does it. I feel better on days when I'm closer to being that kind of person. And can you imagine if we had a world full of people who didn't freeze when they got overwhelmed, but instead put a drop in the bucket?<br />
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And here's Rory sitting on and falling into my massive pile of laundry, that happens to be my small stuff that was ignored and turned into big stuff right now.<br />
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-27079295002243483262017-11-16T19:38:00.001-08:002017-11-16T19:38:16.148-08:00God's plan and my planThe best laid plans are no match for the mess of reality. Isn't that how that goes? <div>
It's true just so you know. Or at least it's proved true for me. </div>
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And since it's Jay's birthday, I'll tell you. He wasn't what I pictured. </div>
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I pictured tall, dark, and handsome, and super sweet. </div>
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(Jay is most of those things, but I wouldn't define him by those specifically)</div>
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Then I dated tall, dark, handsome, and super sweet and couldn't fall in love. </div>
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And nothing was working according to my plan, and really nothing was working at all.</div>
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So I started focusing elsewhere in my life. And when my guard was down- Jay happened. I had mission papers in for my church so I was open to it. And it ended up being perfect, and so much better looking back than anything or anyone else.</div>
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And God knows me, because Jay is honest and dependable and loves me with the deep, abiding, true kind of love that's exactly what I need. He isn't showy, he doesn't say things he doesn't mean, and he let's me have my own wings and dream and be myself completely. </div>
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Then we started to figure life out together. First we felt like law school wasn't the right choice and that we should pursue tech jobs. Then we felt right about a company in Utah. Then that company ended up not being a great fit or situation and we decided to move on from after a year. Which then led us to Jay's current job, which came about through moving to Utah and rekindling friendships here, but wasn't ready for Jay's position until last fall. </div>
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We felt right about buying a home when we moved to Utah initially, and home after home after home didn't work out for us. I was 39 weeks pregnant and still had no home to bring Rory to after she was born. It wasn't working how I pictured and certainly not how I wanted. And eventually after a lot of hassle and push and shove we ended up in our sweet foreclosure and got to work making it ours. We love our home, and our ward, and everything about the way things ended up.</div>
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And nothing went as planned. And now we feel like we should move again, and we made a fair offer on a house that seemed perfect and they refused to budge. So we looked and looked and finally found a house that seems like a more perfect fit than anything else we looked at, though it wasn't what we had in mind at all. It's a recurring theme. </div>
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I guess what I'm saying is almost every plan I've ever made has gone completely differently than I planned for it to go. I mean I could go on and on and on. I remember feeling so lost in college because I wanted to fit the mold in my program and I didn't get the right internships or ace the right classes and it just never ended......I digress. </div>
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But it all worked out. And sometimes it wasn't until I set my plan aside for a moment and got out of my own way that the Lord could do the work in getting me what I actually needed and getting me where I actually needed to go. Sometimes I just had to have a blank slate so somebody that knew better could come in and paint the picture I couldn't see. And even today, I have a lot of parts of my life mural that... well, I'm trying to see how the current strokes fit. And I'm having to hold back and wait, reminding myself that it will always work out. </div>
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I just really believe this sentiment shared by Gordon B Hinckley...</div>
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<i>It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. </i></div>
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<i>It all works out. Don't worry. </i></div>
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<i>I say that to myself every morning. </i></div>
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<i>It will all work out.</i></div>
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-13285577383619140962017-11-03T15:08:00.000-07:002017-11-03T15:08:29.788-07:00Favorite things Friday: <br />
To watch: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/honytheseries/">Humans of New York, the Series</a>. I've always loved Humans of New York and the Series is even better I think. It's not "feel-good" necessarily, but it's thought provoking and human and authentic and raw. It makes you think and open your eyes to other people's reality. I don't think you have to agree with everything everyone says, I don't, but i do think it's necessary if we are to develop Christlike love to understand people-all kinds of people- and that's what I feel like this series helps do.<br />
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To listen: <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/?lang=eng">General Conference</a>. I've been listening to general conference talks like I would a podcast while I'm putting on makeup, doing the dishes, or sewing and it's been awesome. Leave your favorites in the comments so I can listen to them next! Some of my favorites are <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2017/10/be-ye-therefore-perfect-eventually?lang=eng">here</a>, <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2017/10/repentance-is-always-positive?lang=eng">here</a>, and <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2017/10/three-sisters?lang=eng">here</a>.<br />
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To read: We found <a href="https://www.target.com/p/i-like-myself-board-by-karen-beaumont/-/A-12360146?lnk=rec|adaptpdph1|related_prods_vv|adaptpdph1|12360146|1">Rory's favorite book</a> randomly while at Costco a while back (have you ever seen those massive board books they have sometimes!? I'm obsessed!), and it is the sweetest book with a message I love! It has kind of quirky illustrations and Rory wants to read it constantly and has the whole thing memorized. If you ever watch my instastories, it's the book she's most often quoting. It's called 'I like myself' and it's all about self-love. If you're looking for a good children's book to throw in the mix that you won't hate, this is a good bet.<br />
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To use: Marco Polo! It's essentially a combination of FaceTime, snapchat, and texting. I got several recommendations to try it out, but the concept seemed a little redundant to me. Turns out I LOVE it. I'm way better at responding than I am with texting because you don't have to sit down and type out a response, you can use it while you're multitasking, and there's not as much miscommunication because people can see you and hear the tone of your voice. Disclaimer: I use it mostly with my mom friends and I don't think I would use it as much if I was working or in school because you can't send or receive messages silently.<br />
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To eat: <a href="http://www.geniuskitchen.com/recipe/magnolia-bakerys-banana-pudding-340960">THIS</a> Magnolia's banana pudding copycat. I enjoy it best the morning after I make it when the Nilla wafers are soft and the banana flavor has set in a little- it's near identical to the New York crowd pleaser. (That I've also had in Hawaii?) Also, don't make the same mistake I did. Use instant pudding and save yourself the heartache of a pudding that is impossible to set. hahaha. My whole family is now sick of it because I made it like 3 times in a span of two weeks. hahaha literally in love.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-40495385887142702952017-11-02T20:40:00.001-07:002017-11-06T15:39:27.062-08:00ConfidenceI read an article on sex trafficking today that just about made me sick. It was about a woman who started dating somebody, fell in love with him, and he convinced her to sell her body and eventually took all her money and ruined her life. It sounds crazy, but it's real. She was raised in a stable, two-parent home and had a degree and a good job... but was made a victim.<br />
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And do you know why he targeted her? Her lack of confidence.<br />
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It scared me to death. I've been there, I'm raising a girl, I know too many girls who have been there too.<br />
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I lived that way for so so many years. I thought I wasn't pretty enough or thin enough, I thought nobody would love me the way I was, and that perfection was unattainable. The adversary fed that lie for all it was worth. He told me that my lack of confidence was only affecting me, he made me think as long as I wasn't "sinning" it was all reasonable and fine. He made me think it was justifiable to treat my body poorly and punish and think poorly of myself. I was miserable, and all the causes for my lack of confidence consumed my thoughts day in and day out. I was an extremely harsh critic of my own body, and unconsciously became a harsh critic of others as I constantly compared.<br />
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I think about that time in my life sometimes, and most often I feel overwhelming gratitude that I am a different person now: now that I have confidence. Real, genuine, confidence.<br />
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Now before I go any further, I feel like there's an important distinction to make. Confidence and arrogance are not the same thing. Arrogance is feeling like you are worth more than someone, and confidence is knowing that your worth something. Arrogance is thinking you could do something better than others, confidence is believing you can do hard things.<br />
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I believe in confidence. I believe in teaching it to our daughters and encouraging it in our friends and spouses. I believe knowing who you are and knowing you have a purpose and a role on earth is crucial. If you have real confidence, you can get through hard trials, and withstand hard temptations, and do really good things.<br />
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It really is an individual matter. I think confidence doesn't come from anyone else but you (and God). But i do think other people seeing good in us can help us along. Other people's faith in us can help us get to a place where we are ready to believe in ourselves. So just.... I guess the point I didn't know I was getting to is for us to.... be builders. It may not help, but what if we each tried to be builders of other people. It certainly wouldn't hurt. If we could help inspire confidence in those around us what could we keep from happening in our world? Drugs? Sadness?<br />
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And a picture that to me represents this. This is me this summer, one week after having a miscarriage with a body that is a far cry from my fittest, but happy. Genuinely happy and not thinking a second thing about that body that has done so much for me and is such a gift. Not cropped, not covered. My sister asked me to be in a picture, and I got in the picture. (sidenote: I don't think being comfortable in our bodies is the only form of confidence, and I don't think pictures in bathing suits represent confidence. But for me, that's where I've struggled and come from so it represents a lot of personal triumph to even have a picture like this.) So I hope we all strive to find real confidence within ourselves. For me, it's a continual effort. Find purpose and meaning, and build other people. It will change your life, it will change theirs, and it can help change our world.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-85073317752257318622017-10-26T17:04:00.000-07:002017-10-26T17:04:19.175-07:00The hardest year of my life/how I made itLast summer my grandpa died, and thus ushered in the hardest year of my life thus far. The 11 months after that included my parents getting separated and divorced, losing a cousin, and a painful miscarriage. It was a lot to take on in a year, and one year later I'm still standing, but in a radically different world than I did before. <br />
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I'm not saying I have come out unscathed from the hardest year of my life (thus far). But I am saying I survived- and I feel emotionally stable and healthy and in a good place almost every day now. I know it may not be the worst year of my life ever but by any standard it was a pretty life altering and terrible period of time. There are a million different ways to have a really hard period of your life, but I found that when I was doing certain things I was much more okay than when I wasn't- and the same may ring true for you.<br />
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1. Find your therapy. (Also, if you need it, get some therapy) Find something that's therapeutic for you, and make the time to do that thing. I write, and I exercise and I sat down and made goals about those things even though I've got a lot on my plate. This is related to recharging your batteries (below), but distinctly different. Therapy can recharge your batteries, but more than that therapy helps actively clear your mind and recenter your spirit.<br />
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2. Say no. There are "no" periods of our lives, and there are "yes" periods. (<a href="https://soundcloud.com/awesomewithalison/ep-7-are-you-in-a-yes-phase-or-a-no-phase">link here</a> to a podcast I love that talks about this very thing) Essentially, it's ok to say no. Not to everything- but when you are overwhelmed and know what you need to do to stay afloat, say no to the things that are more than you can handle. Narrow things down, cut out the static and focus on the core things you need to focus on. (e.g. taking care of your mind, body, and your family relationships) If you can't take on another project or responsibility it's ok to say no. I did this quite a bit on my hardest days, and I always looked back and was grateful that I allowed myself some grace. Sidetone: this is a lot easier to do and a lot less guilt inducing when you are open with friends and family. A straight "no" is a lot more harsh and a little less honest than a "you know what, I wish I could. We are going through a lot/have a lot on our plate right now and I really feel like I can't take this on right now"<br />
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3. Recharge your batteries SO. MUCH. MORE. OFTEN. For example, I like people and I like being with and talking to people....but when I need to recharge, I am a classic introvert. And so is Jay. I need to stay home and take a bath, and clean my house, and do my nails and read a book. And when you are in the middle of something really hard, you are so emotionally spent so often that you need to do more recharging than you might normally do. Maybe recharging for you looks like girl's nights or long walks or good workouts. Find out what recharges you and do more of it.<br />
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4. Sit in your feelings and feel them. Don't wallow in your feelings forever, but don't suppress them in hopes that they will disappear. (Big hint: they don't) Sit and take them as they come. Get mad, cry when you need a good cry, call a safe person and talk it out if you need to explode. If you don't know how to feel and express complicated emotions therapy is a good option to help you sort through them.<br />
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5. Hold onto your God and your spirituality with your life. If you've ever heard the term "buy low, sell high" the principle applies here so well. (can you tell I was raised by a father in the financial industry...?) The concept is that people get scared when things (stocks, etc) are low and things are hard and they bail out because it's scary and hard to stay. In reality, that is the worst possible thing you could do. You should evaluate whether to pull when things are high- the low times are when it's most important to stay and ride the curve back up. Stay in the boat. Ride out the wave. All of these sayings are about staying on board with whatever was keeping you stable and safe even when it gets scary.<br />
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6. Keep your head up and look forward. There are so many things you can't control in the past or things that you could dwell on that could suck up your entire day, week, or year. No matter how intense or non-intense our hardships have been, this is true. But we also all have so many good things to look for in the future. We each also have new experiences and hope ahead of us. Tomorrow is always a new day and the good news is we can keep refocusing on the hope ahead rather than the tragedy and heartache in the past and sometimes the present.<br />
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Essentially, <i>simplify</i> <i>your life</i> and focus on the essentials. Really take a deep look at yourself and your situation to figure out what helps you. Be kind and forgiving to yourself, and even more than that be a little more kind and forgiving to others- because you know what it feels like to not feel your best.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-47478622885782544922017-10-12T21:49:00.000-07:002017-10-12T21:49:32.663-07:00Get in the gameToday, whatever news station somebody previously had on when I hopped on the stairclimber was talking about fandom and it's benefits and mostly- it's downfalls. They were talking about the phenomena that hardcore fans essentially go through the same stress and adrenaline rush as the players they love so much, except for the fact that we have absolutely no control or part in the outcome. SO that stress just sits- there's nowhere productive for it to go. Today I want to write out loud about sitting on the sidelines of our own lives, and how we can possibly get in the game and start feeling fulfilled. It's not about the fame, it's about playing a game that you want to win.<br />
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First, I hope we are all fans of our own lives. I hope we dream of "winning" of the house cup or the world championship or whatever it is for you. And mind you, I don't think that has to be anything grand. I think my "winning" or "succeeding" largely has to do with growing old with Jay, having lots of babies, being financially stable and independent, and having a massive greenhouse on a piece of land somewhere pretty. Also owning my own business. Maybe a massive garden and lots of Boo's puppies running around. Some beautiful, frame-able photography for pleasure thrown in there. And I get to be on the field working toward that goal every day.<br />
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So yeah, I hope we're at least fans. I hope we are cheering for ourselves. But what I really hope is that we are down in the dirt doing it. I hope we are playing the game, and playing with all we've got. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(mind you, I believe taking time to heal from injuries/catastrophes in our lives is ok too)</span></i> There are a million things we can/need to do in a day. All of us. And for me it at times can be completely overwhelming and I would rather crawl in a hole and lie in a stressful sea of nothingness than do something. But I always feel better if I just play the game (or do the darn thing, ya know?), so why don't I just do it?<br />
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Do you have the same struggle? Why do we do this to ourselves <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(assuming it's not just me)</span></i>? When I take a step back it seems like most of the time I know the antidote to whatever I'm feeling, but just don't want to make the initial hurdle. Even if you aren't perfect at whatever it is, or it's going to take you five years to really accomplish or whatever the case may be... it is so much more satisfying to be playing the game, even if you aren't completely sure of exactly what you're doing!<br />
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My dad always said, "point, shoot, aim (repeat)" which sounds a little silly at first, but it's really the principle that you've gotta shoot to see where you're at and you can re adjust from there.<br />
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So here's to being better at sewing and photography than I was last year because I kept doing them despite my imperfections. Here's to living our lives and making the phone calls we should and getting out of bed on time and exercising and taking twenty minutes to clean the dishes that have been staring at you from the sink. Here's to making the hard phone calls and e-mails and doing all the things we know will help us get closer to that victory, even when they're hard. Especially when they're hard.<br />
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Get a planner, find a new alarm clock that works, surround yourself with inspiration <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(whatever that looks like-podcasts and books are a good start)</span></i>, make time to do the things you love. For me, I'm a "point, aim, aim, aim, aim, aim, aim, and then maybe shoot" type person more often than not. I'm a solidly functional perfectionist, who used to scrub the dirt off her old navy flip flops with a toothbrush after school every day. (that, dear friends, is the truth) And so it's hard for me to move forward knowing things aren't perfect. Knowing they aren't exactly how I wanted them to be or pictured them to be. But I'm working on it. I'm making steps forward and sewing and ripping out a lot of seams and taking more pictures in manual. And you know.... it feels good.<br />
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Basically, this quote from instagram sums it up-<br />
"You don't have to get it perfect. You just have to get it going" @haleyacres<br />
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And for my weekly photo I've got a shot I'm really proud of recently that makes me proud of keeping in the game and practicing photography even when I have been discouraged and it's a lot easier to leave my heavy camera at home. There's motion and light and real, genuine, human beings.<br />
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-46867575002161628752017-10-09T12:05:00.000-07:002017-10-09T12:05:08.065-07:00A nursery reveal, two years late. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's been two and a half years, so I guess it's about time for a nursery reveal. </div>
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We knew the moment we first walked into this house that this tiny corner room would be the nursery. It is tiny and wonderful and after painting the walls a ghastly too-dark shade of raspberry pink, we found the perfect peachy pink shade for the walls. Muted, but just a little girly. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Behr Almond Kiss if you wanted to know!)</span></div>
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Everything in this room is gifted, second hand, discount <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(hello, swivel rocking chair from TJMaxx and cheap Amazon curtains!)</i></span> or handmade and I love the way it all came together. It's the most meaningful and sentimental room in the house and I'll forever think of my sweet baby Rory in it. </div>
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It's also the room that <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(aside from re-painting)</span></i> required the least amount of prep work. It was a lovely shade of lilac when we bought the house as opposed to the terrible, pealing, cheap, brown paint everywhere else and it seemed to be mostly well-cared for.<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (we won't talk about the 150+ nail holes I had to fill on my office walls. I counted. It was unbelievable) </span></i></div>
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We've since moved Rory to a twin bed, put the crib in storage, and sold the changing table. A lot seems to be changing with a very indefinite future ahead. Lately, and very poignantly<a href="https://smalltowntaylor.blogspot.com/2017/09/miscarriage-sorority-of-strong-women.html"> since June</a> I've spent an extra allotment of time in this room with Rory trying to soak her in. I know she won't be little and full of adventure in this tiny nursery again and to me it feels like sacred ground. </div>
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A couple of details for those interested:</div>
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-the mobile I made myself. I knew I wanted Rory's nursery to have a somewhat floral theme and I had the idea for it in my head and couldn't find exactly what I wanted-so I made it.</div>
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-the banner is a hand-painted gift from my sister that hung across the mantle at Rory's baby shower in California. She's the best sister ever. </div>
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-The unicorn lamp is Target, and one of the only full-priced items pictured, because it's amazing. </div>
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-and the little nightstand was a thrashed little thing I found for $5 secondhand and sanded down to re-paint with a tiny test-color pot of paint that cost maybe $2 at home depot. It makes for the perfect little bookshelf.</div>
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-77212623545300532172017-10-05T11:40:00.003-07:002017-10-05T11:40:28.305-07:00How to end the madnessI think I have a unique circumstance in some ways: I grew up in small town USA, where most people were white, but it wasn't suburbia where everyone was the same economic class. In fact, the people I knew with very little money were mostly white people. The people I knew that used drugs and did stupid stuff and had kids out right out of high school and had dysfunctional homes? The kids I knew in the foster care system? Mostly white. I'm not here to make a point of any of this. I'm here to share experience from a different perspective, which I think is important. It's a perspective that often feels apathetic and helpless.<br />
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I don't know how to do this delicately, and I'm not saying by any means that my experience is representative of the whole country, or my goodness- the whole state or county. But that does not make my experience any less real. And I think that's the problem. If someone has a different experience than what the loudest news station or protestor or blogger is saying, it's jumped on and discounted and we all end up with these extreme views because they're the only ones that are acceptable. BUT WHAT IF WE DIDN'T. What if we prioritized kindness over politics and did things that made a difference? Here! Now! And were bipartisan! I just think if we focused on people over politics life would be such a better place. I'm suggesting... what if these issues with riots and bigotry and hatred were bipartisan, and what if there was a simple solution to begin fighting them? End rant momentarily.<br />
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I'm not saying kids who were different in my town weren't ever picked on. I think it happens everywhere in every high school in America, because.... high school. Different clothes, different likes, different levels of nerdiness, and sometimes different skin color. When it happened it made me uncomfortable, and I knew it was wrong, and I didn't always speak up because I didn't know what to say and I wasn't confident enough in myself to put myself in a situation where that could possibly bring attention <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(probably negative attention)</span></i> to myself.<i> <b>But I should have</b>.</i> It wasn't always someone with different skin color, in fact I think more often it was just kids who were different. Different in any way.<br />
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I want to offer a way that we can work to dispel hatred and bigotry, and I don't believe riots and verbal confrontation are the answers. And though peaceful protest has a place and purpose, I don't think they are the end-all answer either. I think to get started we have to do one thing; a simple thing that only requires a decided mind and brave heart. Decide today to teach our children to speak up when somebody is picked on, or when somebody says something mean. They don't have to end friendships over these sorts of comments, in fact, I think friends who consistently and kindly encourage us to be better and think differently are a good thing. Practice kindness and boldness and bravery. If something makes you feel funny in your gut, say calmly, "I don't think that's true" or "that hasn't been my experience". Do it yourself, and teach your children to do it. Nobody needs be embarrassed or called out or shamed. We don't have to have heated arguments over everything, because nobody is converted to kindness through shouting and argument. Those create immediate defensiveness and form a wall, which is exactly what we don't want. Be calm, but firm. Be kind.<br />
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I've always had this gut feeling that if we focus on our families and our communities and the things we <i>can</i> change, instead of obsessing over the people and the politics that we cannot <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(or at least maybe not right this second)</span></i> the world would inherently be better. If people with mental illness had a supportive family or community to go to for help, if when hate was expressed it was overwhelmed by love, if our children felt safe and confident enough to stand up for right because we had set that example for them, if every person had a friend, family member, or neighbor to go to when times were tough wouldn't our world be different?<br />
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If we teach our children these things, and be them ourselves, we can change our circle. And if we each change our respective circles, we can change the world. We may not live in a community where racial tensions are prevalent, or where the hatred rampant in our country seem extremely present. In those situations it's easy to feel the hopelessness rise and ask yourself, "what on earth can I do from here?" I'm suggesting that if we do these things and practice, we will have the strength to say something if someone is treated unfairly at work, and our children will know how to respond to ignorant and hateful remarks whether in their circle now, or in their jobs twenty years from now.<br />
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Has a politician ever changed your mind more than your mother or your father, or your most influential professor or teacher? The influence we have in our homes and communities is/can be so deep and far-reaching, that if we discount it and it's effects we are leaving more on the table than we know.<br />
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We can vote. We can voice our concerns, we can be involved in politics however we can. But we also can work within the walls of our own homes and the boundaries of our own communities to make sure our children are brave enough and strong enough to help where ever they are and where ever they end up. Kindness spreads and changes people. And it is the antidote to hatred. Don't discount your instinct to go home and hug your babies after something horrific like Las Vegas happens. I think our gut is right on about these sort of things.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">“If you want to bring happiness to the whole world, go home and love your family.” -Mother Teresa</span></span></h2>
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-40298455124362869602017-09-28T13:03:00.001-07:002017-09-28T13:03:34.498-07:00Momming part I: takes and tipsThis post isn't about MY mothering tips, but rather the things I've learned that have made the biggest difference in the way I mother and the dynamic that I have with Rory. I don't think every kid is the same, but the same way there are marriage principles that apply universally, I think there are mothering "principles" if you will, that apply pretty well across the board.<br />
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Every kid wants to be heard. (you'll find with most of these, the principles also apply to adults. Don't we all want to be heard?). So listen when they speak. I find that if I really listen and respond to what Rory has to say, she doesn't get frustrated or louder or scream or practice any negative behaviors to get my attention. I look in her eyes, respond, and she moves on content. Obviously, there are times you can't listen right away to your child, or it's inappropriate to give them your full attention (i.e. when you're in a conversation with another adult) and a simple thing I read that I'm working on is to have your child hold your hand when they need your attention and you aren't available to talk right away. </div>
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Be direct. Kids don't know or understand semantics, and they don't read between the lines. So if we ask, "honey, can you do this for me?" and they say 'no' we don't have a right to be upset. They were asked a question, and they gave an answer because asking a question implies that you have a choice. If there is no choice in the matter, don't ask a question. Say, "I need you to go get your shoes on right now, please" if that's what you want. I learned this principle from a University preschool director and author, and when I went home I realized how much I asked questions when the thing I wanted was a request! (By the way, this rule applies with adults too. Being straightforward and kind makes a world of difference) She compared this to the way God speaks when he says, "This is my beloved Son. Hear Him." Completely direct, right?! </div>
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Consistency is KEY. One more time people: consistency is KEY. This is the parenting advice that I think helps both Rory and I the most. I take no credit whatsoever- I didn't come up with this. But I've watched some really good parents nail this concept and it works. I find that as I practice setting boundaries and being consistent it pays off in terms of Rory's behavior and our relationship together. What I mean by this, is when you say you will do something- do it. When you say you will not- don't. When you say they have to go to time out if they do that one more time or they can't have ice cream if they don't eat some salad- follow through! It's hard. It's really hard. Because it's really inconvenient <i>most</i> of the time. If I say to Rory that she has to pick up what she just threw on the ground and she decides she doesn't want to, it may take a half hour and 3 time outs to make it happen (this really happened last week when I had a friend visiting) when it would have taken me all of 30 seconds. It's also hard because you have to REALLY think about your words before you say them and mean it. You can't throw consequences around like confetti then change your mind when you realize you don't want to follow through. The more consistent you are, the more your child trusts you (for good and for bad! ha). And for us, the more we practice this concept, the less boundaries she feels like she has to test. Because that's what they call it right? Testing boundaries? And if there are no boundaries, or if they are different every time, they will continue to try to find them.<br />
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Honestly, I think empathy can go a long way with parenting, and it's really easy to have unrealistic expectations with kids. They are young, and learning, and feeling all kinds of new emotions and frustrations that they don't know how to handle every day. I lean toward wanting Rory to act like a tiny, well-behaved adult all the time but when I keep in perspective how it might feel to be her, it helps me to have more patience and empathy as her mom. </div>
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I call the combination of these things fighting the good fight. Because it's hard. But it's so worth it. I have a really good kid, but she's hard-headed and intelligent and throws tantrums on a regular basis like any other toddler. It's so rewarding to watch her grow and to see parenting practices like these pay off in kindness and genuine helpful behaviors as she learns. </div>
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Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474439143076745301.post-133801077739676462017-09-21T20:12:00.000-07:002017-09-21T20:12:21.010-07:00The one college lecture I rememberThere was a specific lecture in college in which I both decided on my major,<br />
and also learned a principle I've never forgotten and one that has changed my life for the better.<br />
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Let me start by emphasizing that I believe we are all born to create. We are creative beings.<br />
But I think too often we get caught up in the term "creative" as right brained or left brained or artsy or crafty or deep or borderline genius when really, I think it's much more simple than that.<br />
We create every single day. We create in our relationships: we create trust, we create understanding, we create experiences. We create in our jobs, we create in our homes, we create in our social media presence.<br />
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Now back to the point. There I was in my intro to marketing class, and the professor asked us to think up a really cool, creative clock: one that's unlike anything we had ever seen before. So I sat, and my mind raced, and I came up with exactly.... nothing. Then he suggested we turn to our partner and create a new, creative clock that was an owl. So many cool ideas started to sprout- it could have wings that spread when it chimed or feathers that shimmered and glowed at the strike of the hour, or any number of cool things.<br />
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Then he revealed this simple principle that has changed my life: "Creativity loves constraint". It seems simple enough, but the more I thought about it the more true it became. You see, this principle changed my life because it changed the way I see constraints.<br />
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Every time I have a new constraint show up in my life, I try to figure out how that's going to stretch my creativity. How I'm going to make things work within that constraint. Jay and I have only had one car for over two years now, so I started going to the gym at 5am last year to make my schedule work. My schedule got more creative (and hard, but I really really loved that time) to work within the constraint. When Jay and I moved to Utah, we had a budget to buy a house with. Because of that budget, we bought a foreclosure to get a house we really truly loved. We would never have bought the house we did if we could have afforded a nice, new house just like it. I had to be creative to decorate our house on a budget. I had to walk into DI and look at everything with a creative eye. I have had to learn new skills and new talents and make curtains and shop clearance sales and make old pieces work instead of buying new pieces. If a person wants to stop using foul language (constraint), they have to be creative and find new ways to say things! The list of examples could go on forever.<br />
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The moral of the story is we all have constraints. We have time constraints and budget constraints and constraints within our relationships. And it's really easy to look at those as negatives, but this principle taught me that it doesn't have to be that way.<br />
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And for good measure, here's Rory and I in our matching unicorn outfits that I made from things I already had on hand plus less than ten dollars in supplies because... can you guess? Constraints. </div>
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So I want to hear what other constraints have forced you to be creative and learn new skills or create something in a different way than you otherwise would have!</div>
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<br />Taylor annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009325763113967989noreply@blogger.com3