Hair!

Today, my little sister got married. She was radiant, everything went extremely well, and even though there was some stress involved, all in all it was a beautiful celebration of family, friends, and love.

This was also the first wedding ceremony I have been to since Eric and I got married, and seeing Sylvee and Jack's love made me fall even more in love with my amazing husband!

However, there was something brought to my attention today that I think is very important. It involves being a girl in the midst of puberty and being a teenager, and also hair.

My hair is curly. That is an understatement. My hair is fine, but there is a lot of it. And if you just add some water, it turns into these teeny, tiny ringlets. A billion of them!

I love my hair. I love playing around with it, I love sproinging my curls. This love, however, is a very recent thing. It wasn't until I was about 17 or 18 when I realised that I love my hair. Up until then, I HATED it. LOATHED it.

Today, I found my 12 year old sister in distress about her hair. Her hair is fine like mine, and mostly straight but if you get it wet and add a little water it gets really wavy. Very cute. But, here she is, sitting in the bathroom, crying because she, like the millions of 12 year old girls before her, hates her hair.

Of course, this is about so, so, so much more than hair. This is about young women everywhere struggling to love themselves. This is about body image, self esteem. This is about giving these young girls the gift of confidence. Loving yourself means so much. Without first loving and accepting ourselves, we can't truly share our love for others. Without that good self image, we resort to things that are destructive. I was 12 when my eating disorder began, and unfortunately that is a very common time for that disorder to manifest itself.

Young women, and some young men, are dying because they can't figure out how to love themselves. They are dying because they think they are fat and ugly. And, it isn't much of a stretch to say that sometimes, they are dying because they hate their hair.

I challenge you all to find one thing about your physical appearance that you dislike, and figure out a way to accept it, and perhaps even admire it. No changing it, just accepting whatever it is exactly the way it is. And, if you are a parent of a young woman, I would encourage you to talk about body image with her. And, whenever possible, tell yourself, your daughter, or even a stranger, how much you love their hair.

My Best Friend

Saying, "I married my best friend," is very cliched. I mean, everybody says that. Everybody.

So, let's think about it. What qualities do you look for in a good friend? Or, I should say, what qualities do I look for in a friend, because it's my life I'm writing about after all. But, you all can play along.

First and foremost, I am attracted to people who share my sense of humor. It's sick and twisted, intelligent, ironic, occasionally mature themed, and perhaps 5-6 degrees off center. The people who share this off-beat sense of humor are people I tend to connect to very quickly. People who don't laugh at my jokes, well, I can live without!

Intelligence ranks high with me. I have a very low tolerance for stupid people, very, very low. It's not like I hang out with geniuses all day, I don't, but people of a similar intelligence level as myself I find more likeable.

Belief systems are very important, although this does not in any way confine me to people who are LDS. In fact, there are people who are LDS who I feel do not share the same belief system of myself AT ALL! Basically, I believe that if people are kind to others, who constantly strive to better themselves, and who consistently make efforts to make the world we live in a better place, those people will be rewarded in the next life. Whether they worship Buddah, read the Talmut, or worship outside of an organized religion. People who are judgmental, who are cruel, who don't use what they have to help people in need, these people are not my friends.

I like people who share my common interests, but I also like people who have new interests to share. Sometimes they stick, sometimes they don't, but I always enjoy trying new things! (And, I like people who like to try new things!)

Finally, there is loyalty. A person who will stand by you no matter what. Someone who is your friend when you laugh, and when you cry. When the going get's rough, your true friends show!

So, how does Eric stack up?

Sense of humor? Triple check! He always makes me laugh. He e-mails me jokes, most of which I just roll my eyes at, all of which I laugh at. He loves it when I make jokes too. The other thing I love is that when either of us tries out a joke that isn't funny, we are honest with each other, we say, 'That joke SUCKS!' and offer advice on how to fix it!

Intelligence? Eric and I often have intellectual debates that end with one or the other (or both) of us Googling the answer. We are about 50/50. The best part is, he never rubs it in my face when I'm wrong, and I do the same for him. Because it's not about who is right or wrong, it's all about the conversation. And, we usually work in some jokes!

Belief system? We are so sympatico on that one! We occasionally have deep, philosophical conversations. During these talks, we often discover that we believe the same thing, we just call it something different!

Interests? Many common interests that we've shared from day one. We both love the outdoors, camping, hiking, National Parks. We also both love spicy food, dogs, cuddling on the couch, sushi and BYU sports. (BYU basketball+Jimmer Fredette+sushi=BEST.FIRST.DATE.EVER!) Eric has introduced me to riding motorcycles, Futurama, and bluegrass concerts. I have introduced him to Indian food, Monk, and the symphony. Together, we discovered a love of dressing up our 8lb dog.

Loyalty? Who can count how many times he's kissed away my tears, listened to me vent, cried with me? He has stuck with me when I've been tired and hungry and cranky. He is often the first to hear of my successes, as well as my failures. He loves me even when I'm driving him crazy!

So, can I say that Eric is my best friend? Absolutely, unequivocally, and unconditionally YES.

I married my best friend, and I love him more than the world!

Isn't he SEXY?! :D

My Friend

I have a friend, Shelley. Her husband's name is Trevor, and their son's name is Luke.

Luke was born at 41 weeks gestation, he is a beautiful baby boy, and his spirit was taken to heaven before his mother delivered his body on this earth.

Shelley is my friend. I sometimes call her the coolest person I never met. I "met" Shelley through my darling sister in law, Katie, who met Shelley through the similar experience of having an angel baby. Because of Katie, I started reading Shelley's blog, and eventually "friended" her on Facebook. I have never met her in real life, and now that she has moved across the country from me, I probably won't meet her face to face any time soon.

But, I follow her blog like a raving fanatic, because as I read it I think, "It's as though she is taking the words out of my brain and putting them in her blog!" She is intelligent, passionate, eclectic, and beautiful inside and out. And so am I.

All joking aside, I recently read one of her posts that touched me. And more than I am usually touched when I read her blog. This post was about how she is dealing with her fear during her current pregnancy. The thing that I think is most inspiring about it is how very, very real it is. She doesn't sugar coat it, she doesn't withhold her thoughts or feelings. It is raw, and real, and that is really a beautiful thing.

I want to share it because regardless of the situation, we all experience fear in our lifetimes. Sometimes, it is irrational, sometimes it is a consequence of a previous action, always it is something we can overcome. The important thing about fear is to not let it govern our lives, EVER! Shelley is scared. She is scared something will go wrong. She is scared to experience the same heartache she felt when she lost Luke. She is scared she will forget, and she is scared she will remember. She's scared, but she is doing it anyway. And that is why Shelley is an incredible woman, and my personal hero.

Here is the link.
Enjoy!

A big thanks and a huge cyber HUG for Shelley, for letting me share her story!

Drive

All human beings are possessed with a drive. Something that pushes us forward. Something that gets us through the mundane, mind numbing hours which can be work, homework, long commutes, talking to your parents, and so on. This drive is also what pushes us into making big life changes. Getting married, going to college, buying a car, getting a job, having children. We've all seen it on the TV, the woman who complains about her biological clock, the single mother who wants to go to law school, the 30 year old hamburger flipper who turns into a multi-billion dollar computer mogul. And, I would hope we have all felt it in our lives. That nag, that itch, whatever it is.

Some people's drives are so slow that they kind of meander through life. Other people ignore their drives and try to remain static, but are dragged forward by the gears of time until they are so tired of getting scuffed up they hitch themselves up and start lugging themselves onward. Some people never pick themselves up. (*cough, cough, ex-husband, cough, cough*) Excuse me, I had a tickle in my throat.

On the other side are the people whose drives are overclocked. The overachiever, the perfectionist. The kid who graduates with a double doctorate at the age of 21. The CEOs, the entrepreneurs, the whiz kids. OK, so there is a certain level of intelligence at play there, but you can be the smartest person in the world and if you won't get up off your fat butt it means nothing. These people have intelligence AND drive. Passion, enthusiasm, optimism. Drive.

The irony of this drive is that once you get to your goal, your job, college diploma, wedding certificate, you can't just stop. You can sit for a minute or two and bask in the contentment that comes from accomplishing something, but that drive is there pushing you to do some laundry, weed the garden, in extreme cases maybe go to Grad School, or try for that big promotion.

It never stops.

In the immortal words of Walt Disney, "Keep Moving Forward." It doesn't matter what you are doing or really even where you are going. Baby stepping your way there is completely acceptable.

Let's take my lovely mother as a prime example. She found herself in her early 40s, with a job she used to love but was disappointing her in increasing intervals. Her oldest child out of the house, and child number 2 not that far off. And that damn drive push, push, PUSHING her to do something. So, a woman who had graduated from high school but, for whatever reasons, had failed out of college, who had 2 jobs, a husband, 4 children (for those of you doing the math, that's 5 children, and a dog), this very woman did something that had to be extremely terrifying and perhaps a tad insane.

She enrolled in college.

Not only that, but she set a goal. She wanted to graduate with a 4.0. Ah, that is where the insanity came in. So, day after day, class after class, module after module, she worked her way through. She started getting As, and she just never stopped.

36 months, 25 blood draws, and 3 externships later, my mom is graduating from college with a 4.0 GPA on her 43rd birthday. Two days later, she is doing a half marathon.

Was it easy? No way! Was it comfortable? Not on your life! Was it scary? You bet your sweet patootey!

Was it worth it?

The next time you see her, you can ask her yourself.

So I ask you all, gentle readers (I stole that, that's probably copyrighted), what is the next step in YOUR lives? Is it something major like going back to school, having another baby, getting a different job? Is it something smaller like losing some weight, getting back to running, reading more books? Whatever it is that is hard, or scary, or both, I say do it like you are getting into a pool that is cold at first but will feel wonderful after you are all wet.

Just take a deep breath, close you eyes, and JUMP!

(Author's Note: I titled this post, then looked back on it. The title is appropriate, however I want to put in a word for the movie "Drive". I hated it. It was awful. I can't believe someone as beautiful as Ryan Gosling would subject himself to a movie so mind numbing and ridiculous. You can try to convince me it was a good movie, but I will just remind you of the gentleman who got his head stomped in and leave it at that. End of author's note.)

Familie, 家庭, Familia, Cемья, No Matter How You Say It...

...love is what you hear.

My family is large. Big Mormon clan on one side, Big Southern family on the other.

My family is talented. I have one aunt and one uncle who went to Grad School, as of June 21 both of my parents have Bachelor's Degrees. I have an aunt who is a musician, an uncle who is a chef AND an electrician, the computer guy, the hairstylist and jewelery artist. Both of my mom's parents had Bachelor's Degrees in English, hence the family wide English snobbery. My other grandpa is a retired train conductor who dabbles in linguistics and music in his spare time. And by "dabbles" I mean he speaks 6-7 languages FLUENTLY and COMPOSES music that is performed by the local symphony. His wife is the most incredible craftswoman whose works of art warm my toes and astound my eyes, not to mention being an accomplished and authentic Mexican chef. My other grandma is a Sheriff (cool, huh?) and makes a brisket that turns into hot liquid brisket juice in your mouth, as well as a lot of other delicious and extremely fattening Southern fare. (We're talking cheesy grits, collard greens, fried okra, the works!) I have a little sister who plays the cello beautifully and is the best hostess the Cracker Barrel Corporation has ever seen, as well as being a future Stay at Home Mom, joining the ranks of millions of proud, HARD working women! (Anyone who says stay at home moms aren't hard workers can eat rocks and die! Mini-soapbox over.) My other sister plays the guitar, viola, and piano, as well as sings and dances. My baby brother is 10, and probably the most intelligent person I know!

 My family has history. On the one side, pioneers who settled a desert, who buried countless children, and who still held firm to their faith so that we could know about it today. On the other side, I am a descendant of slaves who worked outrageous hours in the hot sun in exchange for being penned up like cattle, who were ripped away from their husbands and wives and children, and who fought for their freedom and won!

My family is strong. We stick together. My family is powerful. We can move mountains if we tried.

Basically, my family is AWESOME!

I was blessed, extremely blessed, into marrying into a family who is equally talented, strong, powerful, and has an amazing shared history. My father in law is the 2nd of 3 generations of doctors. My sister in law has a Bachelor's Degree in Recreation Therapy and is the most energetic, outgoing person I know, and her husband is THE NICEST GUY (he changed the oil in my car! Thanks Nate!) and a businessman/draftsman by trade. My brother in law just graduated from Pharmacy School, his wife is a stay at home mom to their three beautiful kids (see soapbox above!). My other sister in law is THE MOST incredible dancer (and I've, sadly, never seen her perform live, just videos) and her husband is a mathematical genius and an incredible musician.

And this leaves Eric and me.

My husband has a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology. He is the funniest man you will ever meet, unless you've had the opportunity to meet Jim Carrey in person, in which case he is the second funniest man you will ever meet. He grows an amazing red beard, which he attends to with love and tenderness (I've seen it). He always takes the dog out in the morning so I can sleep in, he picks up dog poop even though it makes him make incredibly loud and disturbing vomiting sounds (which means he will be willing to change diapers someday?). He loves Stephen King, there are two shelves going on one whole bookshelf of Stephen King in our house. He loves music, all kinds. I've heard him go from Reggae, to Heavy Metal, to Johnny Cash, to Classic Rock, to Folk Music, to Death Metal, to Bluegrass in one car trip. He is the most loving, supportive, attractive man I have ever met, hence why I married him.

I have an Associate's Degree in Medical Specialties, and I work as a Medical Assistant for Family Practice. Ask anyone and they will tell you I LOVE my job, and I am extremely proud of it. I am currently in my second semester of pre-requisites for Nursing School, and I hope to apply for it Fall 2013/Spring 2014. I want to get my Bachelor's Degree in Nursing, then eventually go back and become a Nurse Midwife. I am an excellent cook (how can I help it, with 3 grandmothers who are incredible cooks?), I love to sing, act, and dance (in that order), I listen to talk radio all day every day and I talk back to it. I'm passionate about books, that's why there are 3 bookshelves overflowing in our apartment and I have a Kindle (I imagine sometimes how many books we would have if I didn't have the Kindle, then I stop because it is too frightening!) I read every night before I go to bed. I love writing, and I dream of someday publishing my works.

How could I not want to bring a child into this eclectic, intelligent, fabulous melting pot that is our family?

(I would love to be here today to announce a new baby Juchau, unfortunately that is not the case. Maybe in the near future. We can only hope. And have sex. :))

Why I Blog

I had read someone commenting about blogs, saying that she didn't like them and that people shouldn't share their innermost thoughts with the whole wide world because it makes people uncomfortable.

This really made me think. Why do I blog? Why do I share my very raw and real thoughts and feelings with people, a vast majority whom I do not know, and will not ever know. Why do I do it?

The answer is very simple. I am a human being, that's why.

As a human being, I have experienced trials. As a human being, I share these trials with other people in this world. While my trials are unique to me, there are many, many, many people in this world who have had very similar trials. As a human being, I find comfort in the knowledge I am not alone in this world. It comforts me to hear other people's stories, their thoughts and feelings, and to understand that my emotional reactions to my trials are not unusual, but perhaps they are not spoken out loud very often. There are experiences that are very taboo in this world that I have experienced, miscarriage, rape, divorce, sexual molestation, bulimia, suicidal thoughts, self harm. Dark, painful things that people silence, cover up, ignore. But, those who are brave enough to speak, to share in a public forum, people I can immediately relate too because I have had those same experiences, same emotions, same trials, are my heroes. As a human being, I feel that it is my responsibility while on this earth to help as many people as I possibly can, and if just sharing my story helps one person in the whole wide world find even a modicum of comfort and peace, than it is worth it for me to expose myself.

Is it cathartic? Yes. Would it be just as cathartic to write it down in a journal? Yes, but also no. Yes, because it would be an emotional release, No, because I know that it wouldn't be helping anybody else, and that is a big part of the healing process for me.

It was because I was brave and shared my story with my eating disorder that I was able to help raise money so that other young women could have the same life saving treatment that I did. It was because I shared something so raw and real and painful that a friend came out and confessed a similar experience, and it has brought us closer together. It was because I shared that fact that I was molested by my biological father as a child that I was able to talk to a fellow eating disorder survivor, to realize how many things we had in common because of that experience, and now she is a friend for a lifetime. It was because my mom shared the story of her molestation with me, that I was able to know that a beaten, battered, and emotionally scarred little girl could grow up to be the strongest, smartest, bravest woman I know. It was because I shared my thoughts and feelings on my miscarriage that women in my life, women I have known for years, women who are related to me, came out and shared their experiences with me.

God gave me the gift of words and the drive to leave my mark on this world. God let me be born in a time when modern technology allows me to share my stories far and wide with little effort. Finally, God gave me trials, painful, terrible trials. With those trials, he gave me the strength to power through, the comfort of amazing family and friends, the resources to find the help I needed, and the knowledge to look back on my trials and see the lessons I have learned.

This is why I blog.

If you have had any of these experiences and want to talk, I am extremely willing. Feel free to ask me questions. If you have ever been abused or neglected or had a loss, here is a listening ear, an understanding mind, and a shoulder to cry on. Call me, e-mail me, message me. I would love to talk.

Logic vs Emotion

I am a planner. It's in my blood. I'm a planner and a researcher. I make the joke often about my last impulse buy. I needed a DVD player. I went to Radio Shack and the RC Willey Outlet Store. I looked at all of the DVD players, jotted down all of their information, and took that info home. The next evening, I went to the RC Willey outlet store, and purchased the DVD player I had decided to buy.

Technically, not impulsive at all. But, I still felt like I was living on the edge with that particular purchase. I mean, I didn't research it online first, just price comparison in the two stores. And, I only went to two stores. OK, so I will buy a pack of gum or whatever in the checkout line, but not often, and I usually take a couple of minutes to compare prices and flavors first. Also, if I don't need the gum, I won't buy it.

Eric is of a similar mindset when it comes to planning and researching. He decided he wanted an electric shaver for his birthday. He went online, compared models, went to the store, looked at a couple, then wrote down EXACTLY what he wanted, a Remington MS2 390 Microscreen Rechargeable/Corded Men's Shaver. I'm not joking about that, I'm reading it off of the paper where he wrote it down for me.

Obviously, we were meant to be together! And, we both ENJOY it. We will sit down, one on one computer and one at the other, and compare and price match all day long. Or, one of us will get a bee in our bonnet, research it out, and excitedly tell the other one what we have discovered. When we got Lucius, we came home the next day with a list to tell the other person about Yorkshire Terriers, most of it the same, and just shot facts that we had discovered at each other.

There is a major difference in making a LOGICAL decison, and an EMOTIONAL one. This comparison shopping and planning and scheduling is all very logical. There is little emotion involved. Sure, when we pick colors or styles, that's more of an emotional response, but the deciding factors are a majority logical.

I have tried, with varying degrees of success, to live my life LOGICALLY. I wanted rules and standards with everything. I wanted it to be that IF I got married to someone I cared about, who cared about me, in the temple, and had these flowers and these decorations and these pictures, in this house with this decoration and these groceries, and that if I just TRIED hard enough, I would stay married forever. What I left out of my decision to marry my ex-husband was the EMOTIONAL aspect of it. Was I emotionally prepared? Mentally, yes. Physically, yes. Financially, mostly. But emotionally? No. I didn't love my ex, I liked him, we had been together for long enough that it was time to get married, and I figured that with time (and I actually remember thinking this shortly before our marriage) I would fall in love with him. I don't regret getting married at 18, and I don't regret doing everything I could to save that marriage, but I do regret not realizing sooner that if I didn't love him, it wouldn't be worth it. By the time we got divorced, I was in it because I made a commitment to be with him. And, the day he left, my first response was shock, but my second response was actually relief. I remember looking into the apartment he had practically destroyed, and thinking, "I get a second chance! I get to marry someone I love next time!"

Doing my externship was an emotional decision. I thought that I would have certain things in my life lined up before I had to take the plunge into working for 160 hours with no pay and no guarantee of getting that job. I was going back to Spanish Fork, something I thought I would never do. My job is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I have learned so much about the field and about myself at that job that I would never have learned anywhere else.

Deciding to date Eric was a purely emotional decision. I had made a "laundry list", he met none of the qualifications. But, when I prayed, I asked God to let me meet a man who would love me FOR WHO I AM. That's all I asked for, and that is exactly what he gave me. I thought I wanted blue eyes and really tall and a non-smoker, but all I really, really wanted was Eric, just the way he was. Our first date was amazing. We never stopped talking, or I should say I never stopped talking and he never stopped listening. Hours and hours we spent together, and I was comfortable the whole time. I felt like I had known Eric forever, he was so easy to talk to and listen to and just BE with. And, that feeling was mutual.

Marrying Eric was an emotional decision. I sat around making lists and spreadsheets, reading about the guy I should marry and what he should have and what to "watch out" for and all of that stuff, but when it came down to it I said Yes because I love Eric more than words can say. And on our wedding day, I didn't worry about money or jobs or cars, anything like that because I knew it would fall into place. All I cared about that day was that I was marrying my best friend in the whole wide world, and we were doing it OUR way.

Buying a dog was an emotional decision. We wanted a dog, we had both researched dogs, we were looking at them, shopping around, but the moment that Mrs. Lytle placed Lucius in my arms, I knew he was mine. The money didn't matter, the breed didn't matter, I NEVER thought we would buy a puppy, or a purebred, or a Yorkie for that matter. But, he fits so perfectly into our lives. I carry him around the house like a baby, he snuggles with me when I'm sick or when we are watching TV. He "barks" in his dreams. He has energy to spare, we can take him hiking and jogging and on long, long walks, and he LOVES it! His personality is so vibrant, and when I look into his big brown eyes, I melt. We clipped his toenails the other day, and he cried, and it broke our hearts.

Now, we are looking into the next phase of our lives: having children. And, as much as I want it to be a logical decision, as much as I want it to happen in my time frame under circumstances that I outline very clearly, it's not going to happen that way. Getting pregnant the first time was totally unexpected, and I never in a million years would have wanted to have a miscarriage. But, life doesn't work like that. I did get pregnant, and I did have a miscarriage. From that, I have learned so many wonderful things that I wouldn't have understood otherwise. All I need to worry about is the fact that I want to have a baby with all of my heart, and we are at a point in our lives where we could provide emotionally, physically, financially, and spiritually for a child. I can dwell on what ifs and such all the livelong day, but it won't change anything.

What I have decided is that making an emotional decision for me is a leap of faith. It's trusting that God knows me, knows my life, knows what is coming down the pike, and will always take care of me. It might not be the way I want it or the way I plan, but it will all be for my good. Leaps of faith are scary! You are jumping off the edge of a cliff knowing that there is another side, but not knowing where or in what direction or even what happens if you miss. But, there will always be a ledge. Our Heavenly Father has promised us this. He will NEVER let us fall into oblivion. If we want to be in oblivion, we have to take ourselves there. He will always catch us. Not in the time or place that we choose, but the time and place which is the BEST for us. He promised to catch, but he never promised we would not get scrapes, cuts, bruises, and breaks. Because how else will you learn?

The trick to making a leap of faith is simply this:

                         Close your eyes,
       
                                Take a deep breath,
                                       
                                                    and... JUMP!