After I gave up on Facebook, I stopped blogging. It wasn't that I wanted to stop blogging so much as I just...couldn't. I'd sit down, start to write, but nothing would come together. I guess I wanted to hide.
My lack of blogging goes together well with my feelings about my upcoming birthday. When I'm deeply hurt by something, I hide until I feel a little better. Soon after my dad died, I could only focus on what a blessing his death was. As I've mentioned before, his body was rapidly deteriorating and there was really no where for him to go besides down. While I was indeed hurting for the months that followed, I pushed that hurt aside. I told myself I needed to help my mom and I needed to be a big girl and be there for my family. Add that to my Stephanieism of normally not being able to cry anyway, and I was able to keep the hurt in its own little place in my mind. I told it that it was safe in that little place and didn't need to go around bugging everything else in there. However, if I've learned anything in this life it's that I often don't know what's best for me. Thankfully, my Redeemer does know what's best for me, and slowly was able to help me remove the pain from its too-small confinement and allow it to exist.
I miss my dad. People can think what they want, but I did love him. For most of my life, I idolized him. I didn't always approve of and/or enjoy some of his behaviors, but I still loved him even if I was too scared to show it. I still needed him. As much as I'm a grown-up who doesn't rely on my parents for financial support, I still need my dad. Who else would be able to help me pull the "Ultimate Prank" on certain individuals who need to be pranked in an inconvenient yet not mean way? No one else could ever wrap me up in a big bear hug like he could (even after I'd had a baby, for that matter).
One thing I always looked forward to in my life was my birthday. Daddy always made a big deal out of my birthday. Even if it was only 30 minutes of playing games with him at the arcade (wow, that made me feel a little old...) he still made a big deal out of me turning another year older. Even after I moved out, he always sent a card to wherever I was living or he and my mother and sister would come visit me. When I turned 20, he came to Provo to take us to Tucanos. (Tucanos is an AMAZING all you can eat Brazillian resturant which costs an arm and a leg but it worth the cost. If you go, make sure you're hungry! I'm not sure how big the chain of resturants is, but I know of at least one in Salt Lake as well as the one in Provo.) He told our waitress it was my birthday, and laughed as I turned beet red while the waiters and waitresses marched out singing the happy birthday song. I'm still not pleased with that opportunity to be embarrassed, but I still feel special.
Last year he sent me a thoughtful birthday card with one of my baby pictures inside. This year, he isn't in this world anymore. When people say it's the little things that are the hardest after someone dies, it's totally true. I'm going to be 23, and I'd rather not have anyone make any kind of real fuss about my birthday. It's really just another day now. Sure, Daniel's doing everything he can to be sweet and make it special (which, by the way, hasn't exactly been easy for him with his mopey, undecisive wife trying to sabatoge the whole thing), but really, without my dad, it just isn't as important as it used to be. I don't need cake or ice cream since I'm making a strong effort to eat healthy. I don't need Daniel to buy me anything since I'm in charge of the bills and I'd really just like that extra money in the bank. Overall, I've obviously turned into a very boring person when it comes to celebrations. Well, except for Halloween, Christmas, Daniel and Anya's birthdays, Arbor Day, (weird, right? I guess I like folige) Easter, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving, Martin Luther King Jr day, and, of course, the debatably non-existant Eat-Lots-of-Ice-Cream-and-A-Burger Day which, for feminine reasons, happens about once every month. Yeah, I'm not big on holidays that focus on me like I used to. I pretend Mother's Day, half my anniversary, and my birthday don't exist. The first two because I usually forget until the day of, and the last because I really don't like the idea of making a big fuss over me since I liked my Daddy's attention best out of everyone else on my birthday.
Anyway, sorry this is such a melodramatic post, I just needed to put this information out for people to see. It's theraputic. It helps me to remember why I sometimes feel the way I do.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Behind Closed Doors
My one-year old likes having doors closed. She really likes playing by herself, so she'll go into a room, close the door, and play quietly by herself.
We usually keep the bathroom door closed since she LOVES the toilet and the drawers full of makeup and hair care supplies. One day, Anya disappeared. We looked around the house, seeing that the baby gate was up, so she couldn't go downstairs, and the sliding door was closed and locked, so she couldn't have sneaked outside. We checked every closet, nook, and cranny we could think of since she now likes to play hide-and-seek with us and finds some interesting places to hide. (I found her in Daniel's pitch-black closet in the darkest corner she could find a while before this happened. She was in there looking around and got excited when I found her. Then she crawled away to find a new hiding place. Aren't little kids supposed to be afraid of the dark?) Still, no Anya. Now we're a little frantic since it's much too quiet in the house even though we're loudly calling her name and noisily running around the house. I realized that there was one place we hadn't checked: the bathroom. Since the door was closed, we figured she was somewhere else, but when I opened the door, there she was! She was very busy studying the toilet and had no time to respond to us when we were looking for her. Apparently, Daniel, I mean, Stephanie, left the bathroom door open, she quietly snuck in and quietly closed the door so she could play interrupted. It worked, right?
She loves playing in her bedroom by herself. Yesterday, she went into her bedroom and closed the door. Daniel and I assumed she accidently locked herself in, so he went and opened the door. While he was talking to her in the doorway, she closed the door in his face...literally. Apparently Daddy wasn't being very polite by just barging in. This happened about four times in a 60 minute period. He said that each time he went in, she was sitting with a notebook and a capped pen "writing" in a journal. I have another notebook that looks the same as the one she found which I use as a journal, so she was writing too! Oh yeah, and we also found the diaper bucket which had been nearly full of dirty cloth diapers completely empty with diapers all around the bucket. I thought quick and grabbed Anya to immediately put her in the bath and Daniel got stuck picking up the diapers. Then again, he gets frustrated trying to bathe a very wiggly toddler who hates getting her head wet, so he probably thought I got the harder job. It all came together in the end, right?
Anya can easily open the baby gate no matter how tight we set it (which means the railing is starting to lift off of the floor), can point to her tummy and her head when we ask her where they are, and has entered a "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS" phase. Wait, that last one is a bit inaccurate. I should say, "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS OR YOUR TOYS!" On Friday, she had a playdate with a little friend who's a little bigger than she is. She was fine with him playing with her blocks and Dora The Explorer bus, but if he touched anything else, she threw very loud tantrums. She has this stuffed soccer ball which she likes to use as a pillow. Apparently it's completely off limits since when her friend picked it up, she FREAKED out and wouldn't let him play with it or any of her other toys. I gave him some of his toys that he had brought, and apparently he couldn't have those either. Anya was being such a pain that she ended up in her crib for over half the time her friend was here. Well, he and I had a fun day, anyway...
Anyway, since this post was about Anya playing behind closed doors and since she's in her room and I haven't heard her for a while, I'm going to do the good-mom thing and go check on her. Until next time!
We usually keep the bathroom door closed since she LOVES the toilet and the drawers full of makeup and hair care supplies. One day, Anya disappeared. We looked around the house, seeing that the baby gate was up, so she couldn't go downstairs, and the sliding door was closed and locked, so she couldn't have sneaked outside. We checked every closet, nook, and cranny we could think of since she now likes to play hide-and-seek with us and finds some interesting places to hide. (I found her in Daniel's pitch-black closet in the darkest corner she could find a while before this happened. She was in there looking around and got excited when I found her. Then she crawled away to find a new hiding place. Aren't little kids supposed to be afraid of the dark?) Still, no Anya. Now we're a little frantic since it's much too quiet in the house even though we're loudly calling her name and noisily running around the house. I realized that there was one place we hadn't checked: the bathroom. Since the door was closed, we figured she was somewhere else, but when I opened the door, there she was! She was very busy studying the toilet and had no time to respond to us when we were looking for her. Apparently, Daniel, I mean, Stephanie, left the bathroom door open, she quietly snuck in and quietly closed the door so she could play interrupted. It worked, right?
She loves playing in her bedroom by herself. Yesterday, she went into her bedroom and closed the door. Daniel and I assumed she accidently locked herself in, so he went and opened the door. While he was talking to her in the doorway, she closed the door in his face...literally. Apparently Daddy wasn't being very polite by just barging in. This happened about four times in a 60 minute period. He said that each time he went in, she was sitting with a notebook and a capped pen "writing" in a journal. I have another notebook that looks the same as the one she found which I use as a journal, so she was writing too! Oh yeah, and we also found the diaper bucket which had been nearly full of dirty cloth diapers completely empty with diapers all around the bucket. I thought quick and grabbed Anya to immediately put her in the bath and Daniel got stuck picking up the diapers. Then again, he gets frustrated trying to bathe a very wiggly toddler who hates getting her head wet, so he probably thought I got the harder job. It all came together in the end, right?
Anya can easily open the baby gate no matter how tight we set it (which means the railing is starting to lift off of the floor), can point to her tummy and her head when we ask her where they are, and has entered a "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS" phase. Wait, that last one is a bit inaccurate. I should say, "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS OR YOUR TOYS!" On Friday, she had a playdate with a little friend who's a little bigger than she is. She was fine with him playing with her blocks and Dora The Explorer bus, but if he touched anything else, she threw very loud tantrums. She has this stuffed soccer ball which she likes to use as a pillow. Apparently it's completely off limits since when her friend picked it up, she FREAKED out and wouldn't let him play with it or any of her other toys. I gave him some of his toys that he had brought, and apparently he couldn't have those either. Anya was being such a pain that she ended up in her crib for over half the time her friend was here. Well, he and I had a fun day, anyway...
Anyway, since this post was about Anya playing behind closed doors and since she's in her room and I haven't heard her for a while, I'm going to do the good-mom thing and go check on her. Until next time!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Teething
Anya is teething. My poor baby! Her mouth hurts so much that she can't sleep well and it's hard to eat! That little tooth causing all of this has almost poked through, so she's at a point where not even baby orajel helps very much.
I could say I hate teething since it makes her so fussy and I can't get anything done. You know what, though? While it makes me sad that my poor baby is in pain, I'm so thankful for teething since it means I have her. All the fussiness, clinginess, picky eating, and endless episodes of Sesame Street means that she's here with us and she's developing well. We never thought we'd have her. Anya is beyond our expectations in a baby. We have no idea how we ever did without her, and if teething is something we get to deal with, bring it on! There are no words to describe how much I love her and how grateful I am to be her mother.
I could say I hate teething since it makes her so fussy and I can't get anything done. You know what, though? While it makes me sad that my poor baby is in pain, I'm so thankful for teething since it means I have her. All the fussiness, clinginess, picky eating, and endless episodes of Sesame Street means that she's here with us and she's developing well. We never thought we'd have her. Anya is beyond our expectations in a baby. We have no idea how we ever did without her, and if teething is something we get to deal with, bring it on! There are no words to describe how much I love her and how grateful I am to be her mother.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
I Am
I am a mother. I'll never be paid a six-figure salary for what I do. I'll likely never be recognized for many of my efforts and accomplishments. I may be looked down upon by some members of society and deemed crazy for what I do.
I am (or soon will be) an accountant, chauffeur, hygiene specialist, caregiver, on-site nurse, manner police, housekeeper, cook, counselor, mediator, and somewhere in all of this find the time to sleep and shower. I'm often overworked and underpaid. However, with every new stage of development my current and future little ones reach, I get a sense of accomplishment. With every hug, kiss, and cuddle I receive, it's somehow worth it.
I'm also a wife to a man who far exceeds anything I had ever imagined a man could be. In that vein, I'm a friend, confidant, monkey-on-his-back at times (probably more than I should be), companion, self-esteem builder, and his devoted love.
I'm a wife and mom. I'll likely live and die without recognition from the world, perhaps just as a part of the number of people who lived and died during my lifetime. My influence will hopefully be for good throughout the future generations. Even though I will never achieve fame or riches from the path I have chosen in life, it's still worth it.
I'm a wife and mother.
I am (or soon will be) an accountant, chauffeur, hygiene specialist, caregiver, on-site nurse, manner police, housekeeper, cook, counselor, mediator, and somewhere in all of this find the time to sleep and shower. I'm often overworked and underpaid. However, with every new stage of development my current and future little ones reach, I get a sense of accomplishment. With every hug, kiss, and cuddle I receive, it's somehow worth it.
I'm also a wife to a man who far exceeds anything I had ever imagined a man could be. In that vein, I'm a friend, confidant, monkey-on-his-back at times (probably more than I should be), companion, self-esteem builder, and his devoted love.
I'm a wife and mom. I'll likely live and die without recognition from the world, perhaps just as a part of the number of people who lived and died during my lifetime. My influence will hopefully be for good throughout the future generations. Even though I will never achieve fame or riches from the path I have chosen in life, it's still worth it.
I'm a wife and mother.
Make A Difference
Today, let's do something different. Today, let's go out of our way to do something good for someone else without expecting some kind of reward. Today, let's do something different to change the world. A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Let's take our steps to change the world.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Thoughts On Foster Care
As we've been discussing foster care and carefully making the decision to do so, we feel that it's what's best for our family at this time. Admittedly, the idea of doing so is absolutely terrifying. We have a baby in the house. Our "parent anxiety" (aka: the superhuman power of overreacting to everything that happens to the child or what the child does. For instance, dancing around the house when she clapped her hands for the jillionth time or wanting to hold her and never put her back on the floor when she crawls without looking and bumps her head on the wall.) already makes us terrified of everything outside our home that could potentially harm her, such as malicious biting butterflies (believe me, they exist after the baby comes) or the imaginary crazy guy who's always around the corner waiting for innocent little Anya's to come his way. With foster care, some children have had unspeakably horrible things happen to them. The consequences of these events generally will be evidenced in their behavior.
The trainer for our classes said, "If you have kids at home and are going to do foster care, you'd better be scared! What kind of parent would you be if you weren't scared? However, many foster parents with kids in their homes still say it's worth it." Well, apparently we're good parents, since the thought of my baby being picked on at the park makes me sad. Being picked on by someone living with us is an idea that keeps me up at night.
There are lots of reasons not to do this. Maybe we're crazy, well, more crazy than normal, but neither Daniel or I can get around this feeling that this is the right choice. As we've prayed about this choice and how it will affect our precious, beautiful daughter, I at least have felt that if the Lord wants us to do this, He'll help provide safety and security for our baby. Daniel has felt similarly. I know that to lots of people we sound crazy to the point of irresponsibility. Be that as it may, this choice is right. It's not irresponsible. We have the power to make a difference in the world, so why not take it? It's not about the reimbursement we'd get. Frankly, any money we recieve from the state will go straight to the kids. It's about...doing what's right. It's about making a difference in our family and in the world.
The trainer for our classes said, "If you have kids at home and are going to do foster care, you'd better be scared! What kind of parent would you be if you weren't scared? However, many foster parents with kids in their homes still say it's worth it." Well, apparently we're good parents, since the thought of my baby being picked on at the park makes me sad. Being picked on by someone living with us is an idea that keeps me up at night.
There are lots of reasons not to do this. Maybe we're crazy, well, more crazy than normal, but neither Daniel or I can get around this feeling that this is the right choice. As we've prayed about this choice and how it will affect our precious, beautiful daughter, I at least have felt that if the Lord wants us to do this, He'll help provide safety and security for our baby. Daniel has felt similarly. I know that to lots of people we sound crazy to the point of irresponsibility. Be that as it may, this choice is right. It's not irresponsible. We have the power to make a difference in the world, so why not take it? It's not about the reimbursement we'd get. Frankly, any money we recieve from the state will go straight to the kids. It's about...doing what's right. It's about making a difference in our family and in the world.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Live Like You're Poor And You Never Will Be
Note, I take a very firm position of considering myself neither liberal or conservative, as I find being only one or the other would be prohibitive of my ability to research issues and decide what is correct for myself.
We look like hippies. We don't use our dryer, opting for a clothesline, we have an oldschool reel lawn mower (as in, totally manual powered; no gas or electricity for it), we cloth diaper the baby, compost organic food waste, the majority of our food is cooked from scratch, we buy flour and oatmeal in 25-50 pound bags, don't have cable or satellite, and walk/ride bikes more often than we drive. The only thing missing from the equation is "hemp." Our neighbors think we're eco-nuts, however, we can snicker at our reasoning behind our hippie-like nature.
Our family motto has been and will be, "Live like you're poor and you never will be." Our fiscally conservative nature actually aligns heavily with the environmentalist movement. All of the things I previously mentioned that we do has a financial basis before it has a moral/religious/ethic/whatever basis.
Let's look at some of these things individually, and I'll explain how these things work in our favor financially.
1) Cloth Diapers
Yes, I cloth diaper my child. Yes, I recommend cloth diapering for a myriad of reasons, however, let's look at the cost effectiveness of them. On average, the cheap disposable diapers cost $0.20/diaper. Anya is a crazy pooper, so we easily go through 5-6 poopy diapers a day, cloth or disposable. If you count wet diapers, let's say she goes through 8 a day. In a 30 day period, we can round that to $50/month! That's only for the way cheap diapers that no one likes anyway!
2) Composting
I know this one sounds weird, but I like to garden, and I'd rather use my own leftovers which would just go in the trash anyway than paying extra for fertilizer.
3) Clothesline
Not using the dryer obviously saves us on our power bill. Why heat the house more during the summer with the dryer when the clothes can dry quickly outside?
4) T.V.
By not having T.V., we're healthier since we're not couch potatoes, don't use the T.V. as much, thus saving on power, and don't have to worry about paying for a monthly subscription. We can find most everything we want to watch online, anyway.
5) Using "foot power"
Who wants to pay for gas, anyway? Let's stick it to the gas companies by using the free power of walking and riding bikes!
By living by the "Live Like You're Poor" motto, the only debt we currently have is our mortgage, and it feels so good to not have to worry about credit card debt hanging over our heads. If Daniel were to lose his job, it would undoubtably be hard, but we wouldn't be hounded by debt collectors. My advice to you, my faithful friends, is to live WAY below your means, pay off debt, and live a happier life! People may think you're crazy, but when you have net worth and they don't, who's really crazy in the end?
We look like hippies. We don't use our dryer, opting for a clothesline, we have an oldschool reel lawn mower (as in, totally manual powered; no gas or electricity for it), we cloth diaper the baby, compost organic food waste, the majority of our food is cooked from scratch, we buy flour and oatmeal in 25-50 pound bags, don't have cable or satellite, and walk/ride bikes more often than we drive. The only thing missing from the equation is "hemp." Our neighbors think we're eco-nuts, however, we can snicker at our reasoning behind our hippie-like nature.
Our family motto has been and will be, "Live like you're poor and you never will be." Our fiscally conservative nature actually aligns heavily with the environmentalist movement. All of the things I previously mentioned that we do has a financial basis before it has a moral/religious/ethic/whatever basis.
Let's look at some of these things individually, and I'll explain how these things work in our favor financially.
1) Cloth Diapers
Yes, I cloth diaper my child. Yes, I recommend cloth diapering for a myriad of reasons, however, let's look at the cost effectiveness of them. On average, the cheap disposable diapers cost $0.20/diaper. Anya is a crazy pooper, so we easily go through 5-6 poopy diapers a day, cloth or disposable. If you count wet diapers, let's say she goes through 8 a day. In a 30 day period, we can round that to $50/month! That's only for the way cheap diapers that no one likes anyway!
2) Composting
I know this one sounds weird, but I like to garden, and I'd rather use my own leftovers which would just go in the trash anyway than paying extra for fertilizer.
3) Clothesline
Not using the dryer obviously saves us on our power bill. Why heat the house more during the summer with the dryer when the clothes can dry quickly outside?
4) T.V.
By not having T.V., we're healthier since we're not couch potatoes, don't use the T.V. as much, thus saving on power, and don't have to worry about paying for a monthly subscription. We can find most everything we want to watch online, anyway.
5) Using "foot power"
Who wants to pay for gas, anyway? Let's stick it to the gas companies by using the free power of walking and riding bikes!
By living by the "Live Like You're Poor" motto, the only debt we currently have is our mortgage, and it feels so good to not have to worry about credit card debt hanging over our heads. If Daniel were to lose his job, it would undoubtably be hard, but we wouldn't be hounded by debt collectors. My advice to you, my faithful friends, is to live WAY below your means, pay off debt, and live a happier life! People may think you're crazy, but when you have net worth and they don't, who's really crazy in the end?
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