The F-word...

One of my favorite stories from my childhood was when my little sister (7yrs younger than me), my mom and I were shopping. Little sis and I did not get along very well back in the day. (I'd like to add that today she is one of my best friends and so precious to me) I was probably 12 or so and she would have been around 5. We were bickering back and fourth and my mom was so done with hearing us. I don't remember exactly what was said, but my little sister yelled, "MOOOM!! She said the F-word!!!" My mother whipped around in complete shock and before she could say anything I said, "Mom, I said fart! Just fart!!" 

Thankfully, she and I both laughed and my life was spared. Of course little sister was indignant over the fact that I didn't get into trouble... after all, in our house fart is a bad word!

And so the memories continue. Last night my oldest came to me and said, "mom, you are not gonna believe this. Sister said the S-word." My mind raced to figure out what he would possible be referring to... it was stupid. The s-word was stupid. I love that their sweet little minds have not yet been infected with the ugliness that this world has to offer. They know that there is evil. They know that there are bad things in this world, but for today... the S-word is stupid and we don't say that because it sounds rude. 

     ;-)

Missing that feeling...

I like to feel STRONG. After I've had each of my babies I certainly miss fitting into my jeans, but more than that I miss feeling strong. I hunker down, I lose the weight, and I work hard to build up my muscle and stamina. When I got sick the first thing I noticed was the fatigue and weakness. I hate that. I'm just now getting back to feeling like myself. I am eating well again and feeling more energy. There's even been some times that I;ve felt certain that getting sick was a fluke and it won't happen again... but then my hands hurt so much that I can hardly open my son's bottle. Or I wake up feeling like I have sand bags on my muscles and moving is miserable. These are reminders that something is not right. BUT, I am stubborn. I'm determined to feel strong again. To run with my children, lift them in the air and to live.
I am so very glad that I felt God calling me to change my life years ago. I felt like He was telling me to get in shape and be a good example of health for my children. I'm so glad that I obeyed and that I was in good shape when this autoimmune stuff hit. One of the doctors in the hospital said, "It's good that you are in good shape! This could have been worse." Which was great to hear because at the time I felt frustrated that I had been obedient and worked so hard and now here I was in the hospital, feeling horrible. I'm confident that I will be a testament to God's grace and mercy. I know that He has plans for good for me.
Here are some pictures along my journey of losing weight and living better.

I had lost about 20lbs here. The kids loved helping me in my workouts! 

 I love my husband. He has cheered me on along the way and been my best support.

Met my goal, lost 44lbs!

Humor amongst the Drama

So, if you read my last post then you already know I was in the hospital and it was not fun...
I love to laugh. I'm sarcastic and silly and can find humor in almost any situation! When one of the doctors told me that I would be having a bone marrow biopsy, I was not laughing. I was so nervous. I felt even more nervous when the dr asked, "Have you had any children?" I said that I've had four... He smiled and said, "Oh, well then you'll do just fine." What??? What does that mean? It's gonna hurt as bad as childbirth??? No thank you!
So, the next morning the dr came in and brought a room-full of people with him. There was a resident with him, a nurse, a nursing student and a gal from the lab who was collecting the marrow. The doctor turned to my husband and said, "Have you been around many medical procedures? This is quite disturbing to view." He assured the dr that he would be fine and so they began. He was kind of pushed away from me as they all gathered around to begin the biopsy. I laid on my stomach and for everything to go well. I focused my eyes on the beautiful nursing student, she seemed sweet and bubbly. The sounds during the biopsy are awful... cracking and grinding and.... ugh! Gives me chills just to think about it. Anyway, I cracked a joke and looked at the nursing student for a smile, she was pulling off her mask and grinning ear to ear... like weirdly grinning... like the joker kind of grinning... and swaying kinda funny... and oh my.. "Hey! She's going down!!!", I yell! And before anyone can figure out what I'm talking about the beautiful little nursing student passes out and her lovely little face smacks right into my butt cheeks. NO JOKE, people. My husband scoops her up and quickly takes her into the hallway. The room is silent for a minute and then I laughed out loud... I laughed till I had snot coming out of my nose. My husband came running back in to hold my hand and we laughed together.
BTW, who actually says stuff like, "She's going down!"... apparently I do. I'm a nerd.

I wish I could say that I laughed through the rest of the procedure, but it got a lot less funny after that....

Pardon my absence...

I've proven to be an unloyal blogger... I want to blog daily, at least weekly but it aint gonna happen! This time, though, I do have an excuse for my absence. I got sick. Like crazy sick. I had been feeling fatigued and just run down for a while and right after Thanksgiving it hit me hard. I woke up several times through out the night in terrible pain. My hands were curled in, my back was aching and I could hardly move. I cried out to my hubby and he called my parents to come watch the kids so we could go to the ER. I hate hospitals. I'm thankful for them, but don't want to be in one. I assumed they would tell me I had a nasty virus and send me home and at first it looked like they would do just that... then my blood work came back and my white blood cell count was eerily low. I didn't really care. I felt horrible and even worse I was starting to panic about being away from my nursing (no bottles ever) baby. I wanted to go HOME. Things moved fast from there. My blood pressure dropped and they were talking about admitting me. My mom drove up with the baby and I fed him. I cried as I snuggled him and talked with my mom. She assured me that it would all work out and took him back home. We discussed how to work out his eating schedule and the nurse was confident that he could even stay with me once I got settled into a room.
My blood pressure dropped further and the doctor came in to explain that I would be going to the ICU and there was no children allowed there at all. My mother in law had came to check on me and was there to explain how things would work in the ICU (she's a nurse) and tried to comfort me as I cried. My baby boy was not a tiny baby, he was almost 9 months old when this happened. People kept saying, "At least he's not an infant", or "he'll be fine! Babies eat when they get hungry!" I did not find comfort in those types of statements. I understood that it would all work out and that he would be ok, however, this was my baby. I was sick at the thought of him being hungry, looking for me... not understanding what was happening. I still get teary when I think about it a couple months later. Those next few days in the hospital were exhausting, frustrating and overwhelming.
I saw a slew of doctors, nurses, students. No one seemed to know what was going on. As I type this to you, we still don't know. They believe that I have an autoimmune disease called, lupus. I've started seeing a rheumatologist and we have another appointment coming up and hope to know more. I have begun researching diets and other ways to treat autoimmune disorders because a life of meds and problems from those meds does not appeal to me. It appears that I got some kinda nasty virus or infection that did a number on me and as the dr said, "May just be the perfect storm of having an autoimmune disorder and then getting very sick..."
What I want to tell you about this experience is this, God is good. All the time. For those who know me, you know that being away from my children is not where I want to be. At All. Especially a nursing baby. I also hate to feel like I have no control. I was faced with some of my biggest fears all at once. My husband was forced to go home and wean a baby in a traumatic fashion and try to keep our big kids from feeling the stress that we were enduring. My parents and sisters (and their families) swooped in and took over. My mom stayed with me at the hospital, my dad helped to care for my children, my sisters stepped in as mommy as best they could and for them I am forever grateful. They all assured me that all was well at home and that it would all be ok. I wanted to believe them, but was overwhelmed at being unable to be with my family. I told God that I will stand firm in what I know is true. I know that He loves me, that He loves my little ones. I know that He is in control. I know that nothing that was happening to me was a surprise to Him. I know that He is with me. He gave me moments of peace that can only come from Him, moments of clarity and even some moments of joy and laughter.
This post is getting much longer than I intended! HA! That sweet baby boy that I was so worried about is snuggling with his daddy as I type. He's chunky and happy and now a formula fed baby. I wanted to go back to nursing but due to all the medication that I had been on and was continuing to be on would make that impossible. It was devastating to me at the time, but we are all ok.
I do have some funny stories and I will tell you my favorite in my next post....

Say CHEEEESE!!!

Ok, first, read this:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/allison-tate/mom-pictures-with-kids_b_1926073.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false

Don't you love that??? It got me thinking about the times that I shy away from the camera (or literally run away) because I didn't like my weight or maybe I had a pimple... how silly. I have this beautiful little daughter- it makes me sick to think of her having a baby someday and not wanting to be in a picture with her precious newborn because she thinks she's fat. I want to set an example! I want her (and my sons.. and my sons' future wives) to know their self worth does not come from the scale. It does not come from their pant size. It comes from knowing that they are precious. It comes from knowing who their creator is and how he sees them.

I wish that there were more pictures of my mom from my childhood. There are some, but I'd be thrilled to see a daily picture of her! LOL To see her smiling while carrying me in her belly, to see her looking ragged and tired but happy as she rocked me as a baby. I'd love to see a video of her making dinner, singing songs, reading a book, I'd even like to hear one of the painfully long lectures that I endured in my older years! heehee!

I certainly don't want to think of my mom hating her body after I was born. And so, I will try my best to watch what I say in front of my children about my looks. I will try my best to be positive, I have not always done a good job of this. I am healthier now than I have been in the past because I want to set a good example of health and be aware of the impact that I have on my children- because I love them and I want so much JOY for them. Here's to more pictures of this gal! Say Cheeeese!!!!

My hero.... (swoon)

My hubby does not consider himself to be much of a handy-man... he's wrong. In the last few months he has changed the brake pads on the car, fixed a leaky toilet and yesterday he replaced our garbage disposal! Saving us money and impressing this gal. Proud of you babe!

 Thanks for posing for me, honey!

 And of course each kid needed a pic too...

Goals

I'm a complicated gal... I like adventure and excitement! I like to be silly and crazy and play! BUT I also don't tend to like change- I'm not big on surprises. Does that even fit together? I like things to be organized and alphabetized, but I get bored and long for something to change... I'm complicated!
What I do know is that I really want to step outside my box. I want to reach people and sometimes that means getting very uncomfortable- maybe looking silly.
In the name of trying something- I set a goal for myself. Lose 20lbs and get a lesson in shooting. Guns, people. I knocked out 20, then 30 and finally set a time and date with destiny. I was excited and nervous- I'd never shot anything other than a rubberband gun before... for those of you who have never shot a rubberband gun (because your childhood was not as epic as mine), here's what that looks like. It's pretty hardcore:

That's right, we shoot cute little rubber duckies... it's pretty intense.

So here I am...

 And then it got REAL... I found my love in the form of a rifle. And a new addiction is born.