Firework

This song is on the radio a lot, and I really like the beat.  But I never really listened to the lyrics until a few days ago.  As I was driving alone, I was able to concentrate on the words and I just started bawling.  They are so moving and hit me right in my core.  I need to listen to this every morning.  We all do. 

Kristen N., this song is for you. 

"Firework"

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,
drifting through the wind
wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
like a house of cards,
one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
6 feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe your reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow
And when it's time, you'll know

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, Oh, Oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through-ough-ough

'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, Oh, Oh"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, Oh, Oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

Whiteness

Speaking of swimsuits and "exposing" ourselves, I am white.

And I don't just mean Caucasian, I mean I am white!  I have a farmer tan on my arms, but I am pale and blonde and I don't tan.  I burn.  Then I peel.  Then I am white again.

For years I let that also keep me out of a swimsuit.  But really, who cares?  When I go to the pool, I see lots of women that are pale. 

My kids don't care.  Well, The Teenager might, but he doesn't count.  He's, well, a teenager.  But the little ones don't.  They just want me there playing with them. 

So I do.  I don't care anymore.  I am who I am.

Swimsuits

Yes, they are uncomfortable.  Yes, I'm putting myself on display, so to speak.  I did find a swimsuit that has a higher neckline so I'm not revealing cleavage, and it comes down to mid thigh so I don't have to worry about shaving.

But I still am fat.  I don't look good in a swimsuit.  But I grew up with my mom never wearing a swimsuit.  She didn't like how she looked.  I didn't want that for my kids.  I wanted them to have memories of me at the swimming pool too. 

So when I go to the pool, (and this is kind of awful) but I look around at all the women and as long as there is at least one other woman there who looks worse in her swimming suit than I do, then I'm okay. 

And you know what? 

There always is. 

Actually, there are usually quite a few that look worse than I do.  I'm amazed at how heavy some of these women are and how little fabric they have covering them (just because you can wear a bikini doesn't mean you should!).  But as long as they look worse than I do, then I'm okay being there.  Maybe that's a mean attitude to have, but if it gets me into a swimsuit and gets me to the pool with my kids, then they are happy and that's what it's all about.

Why?

Last night I watched “The Biggest Loser” and was so inspired.  They have all worked so hard and look so amazing.

I have been working out in the mornings, and I am really proud of myself for how hard I have been working.  I felt really good after this morning’s workout.

And then at 10:00 I cooked up a pound of sausage links and at them.  All of them.  By myself.  And then ate a spoonful of peanut butter.  And then sat down and cried.

Why do I do this to myself?  I know better. 

As I stood in front of the freezer and stared at the sausage, I told myself that I didn’t want them.  And then as I pulled them out and opened them, I told myself that they were bad for me.  And as I cooked them, I told myself that I shouldn’t eat them.  And then, as I was eating them, I told myself what a horrible person I was and how stupid I was and weak.  And when I finished eating the sausages, I felt so awful, that I needed a spoonful of peanut butter to help sooth the hurt. 

But it didn’t work.  Instead, I felt worse.

Why can’t I stop eating?  Why do I do it to myself, when I know how I am going to feel afterward?  I know it’s bad, and yet I can’t stop.  I feel so helpless. 

I want to lose more weight.  I know how to do it, and yet I keep sabotaging myself.  Why? 

I’m going to go find some chocolate.

A Woman’s Lifeline

A Woman's Lifeline (As quoted from M Russell Ballard.)

"Age 3: She looks at herself and sees a queen.

"Age 8: She looks at herself and sees Cinderella.

"Age 15: She looks at herself and sees an ugly duckling (Mom I can't go to school looking like this today!)

"Age 20: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly" but decides
she's going out anyway.

"Age 30: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly" but decides she doesn't have time to fix it so she's going out anyway.

"Age 40: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly" but says, "At least I am clean," and goes out anyway.

"Age 50: She looks at herself and sees "I am what I am" and goes wherever she wants to go.

"Age 60: She looks at herself and reminds herself of all the people who can't even see themselves in the mirror anymore. Goes out and conquers the world.

"Age 70: She looks at herself and sees wisdom, laughter, and ability and goes out and enjoys life.

"Age 80: Doesn't bother to look. Just puts on a purple hat and goes out to have fun with the world.

"The moral is, maybe we should all grab that purple hat a little earlier."

Late

Okay, I may ruffle a few feathers with this post, but it is my blog, and I have to put this out there.


I value punctuality a lot. A LOT! I absolutely hate being late. It is something that I inherited from my mother. She trained me to not only be on time, but to be early. If I am only 5 minutes early, I feel late.

I can only remember a few times that I have been late. There is one that sticks out very clearly, mainly because it happened recently.

I had been asked to take a salad to a funeral luncheon. I made it the night before and it was all ready to go. It needed to be there at 4:00. My husband also had somewhere to be at 4:00. I sent him off and sat down to read.

At 4:20, I just happened to glance at my calendar and saw the reminder. I freaked out! I jumped up and grabbed The Chocoholic and we took off. I brought him so he could hold the salad so I could race. It normally takes me 5 minutes to get to the church. I made it in 3. I was speeding and The Chocoholic commented that he had never seen me drive so fast.

And then he asked me if this was the first time I had ever been late. I told him no, there had been a few other times. He said, “Well this is the first time I remember.” And he is 11. That made me so proud, to know that he knows that I am not late.

In our community, being late is commonplace. People joke about being on “Mormon time,” which is 10-15 minutes late for everything. It is accepted as normal. Meetings rarely start on time because there are very few people there. We have to wait until more people arrive before we start.

This really bothers me. What they are saying is that the people who are late are more important than the people who are on time, me included. It makes me feel very unimportant, to the point that I have stopped going to a few meetings because I don’t want to feel that way.

And I wish people didn’t feel the need to make fun of me because I am punctual. No one in our ward has, and no one to me specifically, but in general. Just general remarks about “people who are on time have nothing better to do with their lives.”

Thanks.

I also have worked hard to teach my children to be reverent. We start at an early age and work with them at home to teach them how to sit quietly. We sit near the front of the chapel so they can pay attention better. It’s not easy, but we do it. Then I heard about a comment that Sister Julie Beck (General Relief Society President) said at a regional conference. She said, “Reverent children are weird.”

Thanks.

If I were to give a talk to a bunch of women and say, “Irreverent children are weird," there were be a huge uproar. But it’s okay to make fun of me. I try really hard not to let it get to me, but I guess tonight, I am feeling it.

I don’t make fun of you. Please don’t make fun of me.

Again, this is not directed to anyone in specific. Just to the general public. And I hope I didn't offend anyone.  I just had to get it off my chest.

Week 2 Day 1

Tonight was rough. We were jogging for 90 seconds and then walking for 2 minutes. On the last 2 jogs, I heard in my mind, "I can't do this. I am going to have to quit and tell everyone."

And then I told myself, "I can do this! I can! I have to!" And so during the last 30 seconds or so of the last 2 jogs, I was saying it out loud.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."

And you know what? I did.

My self confidence has never been better. I am looking in the mirror and not hating what I see. I now see a woman who is jogging. Who is getting off her behind and exercising.

It's hard. Tonight kicked my butt. But I held on and I finished.

I can do it.

I can.

Hurtful words

How is it that in the space of 5 seconds, someone I love can say one sentence that breaks my heart? And they say it in a room full of people, so I have to swallow the tears and pretend that everything is okay?

One comment can change my self esteem drastically. 4 words. They can let me know exactly where I stand with that person. I have known, but they have never verbalized it.

And now everything is different. Only they don't know it because they probably don't even remember making the comment. But I will never forget.

And don't worry...it's not anyone who reads this blog. I am not going to say anything more. But take this plea...think before you talk. This is something I could do more of too. And I will. Because I hope to never hurt anyone like I was hurt.

Thank you

After I published my last post, I realized that I should have put that one in my journal instead of my blog. And I did not put it out there in an attempt to get praise and acclaim.

But you were all there. And you loved me, and you helped me. And I feel better.

That is what sisterhood is about. We lift each other up and help each other up when we are down.

Thank you.

Self Esteem

What makes a person have good self esteem? Because I don't have it. I have lousy self esteem.

I am constantly putting myself down. I'm fat, I need a hair cut, my house isn't as clean as I want it, I not pretty enough, I have a zit, I'm eating too much, I'm a fat cow, etc. I say it in my head all the time.

I know that I shouldn't. But how do I stop? I can't look in the mirror and say, "I am beautiful." Because I will just laugh out loud. I don't believe it.

I want to be one of those women who can walk with their heads up and look people in the eye.

So how do I increase my self esteem? I don't know how.

But I am tired of hating myself.

Tired.