Scars

I had an epiphany last night.  Or, as we Mormons like to call it, a personal revelation.

Three pregnancies in four years does a number on your body.  So much about my body no longer resembles what it looked like prior to embarking on this journey.  At the risk of sounding shallow, that was one of the hardest (and continues to be) adjustments for me.  Things just don't look the same.  My body doesn't feel the same.  And how could it?  It has grown, supported and birthed three beautiful little people.

I had read a blog post several years ago that has always stuck with me.  I wish I could remember who the author was, but that information has been lost, along with most of my vocabulary, compliments of baby brain.   The woman was discussing her heart breaking struggle to get pregnant.  Her desire for a child of her own was so great, it consumed all of her thoughts.  Finally, she and her husband conceived.  They were beyond excited and, as the baby grew within her, she developed a single stretch mark on her stomach.  Her sister had complained about her pregnancy stretch marks, but she loved this stretch mark.  It meant that there was a baby growing inside her.  Tragically, she lost the baby later in her pregnancy.  Her body mostly returned to normal, having escaped the more physically deforming aspects of pregnancy, except for that one stretch mark.  It remained.  And she cherishes it because it is physical proof of her baby.

Needless to say, I sobbed after reading that.  I have had many trials in my life, but conceiving a child has not been one of them.  It made me feel spoiled and selfish.

Since reading it, I have tried to have that perspective regarding my own body.  But it has been admittedly hard.  After a grueling workout last night (shout out to Amber!), I was laying in bed thinking about my exercise journey over the last six months and how no matter how hard I work, there will likely always be some extra skin on my stomach, certain scars that will never go away and a different shape to my overall body.  And that's when it hit me:

Jesus Christ has scars.  Scars on His hands, His feet, and His side.  Scars that could have been removed when He was resurrected, but He instead decided to keep them.  Scars that represent all that He did for us.  He literally carries reminders of us on His body.

"...yet will I not forget thee, O house of Israel.  Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands..."  - 1 Nephi 21:15-16

Profound, right?  Ergo, if I am to follow Christ's example, I should embrace my scars.  They are a testament to my precious children.  Even after they have grown and gone, my body has been forever changed.  I will always carry a reminder of them with me; every minute of every day.  Our bodies are living journals, each is completely unique and testifies of our lives.  Such a simple truth that has been drowned out by the world's unrealistic expectations of perfection.

I am going to recommit myself to having this perspective and seeing the negative feelings for what they are: the adversary's attempt to make me miserable.  How grateful I am for the whisperings of the Spirit!

Snow, Chocolate & Surprises

The last week has been one of mixed emotions.  Feelings of immense joy and celebration, combined with feelings of frustration and claustrophobia.  Unless you've been under a rock in the US, you know that New England has experienced an unprecedented amount of snow in the last three weeks.  It's been absolutely, unbelievably insane and I have two boys suffering from severe cabin fever to prove it.

I know one day we'll look back on this and say, "We survived!", but in the meantime we've been doing our best to keep our sanity.  In the last two weeks we've taken the boys to the Boston Children's Museum, the Museum of Science, baked a variety of treats, and celebrated Valentine's Day. 



The family that shovels snow together, goes stark-raving mad together.

On Thursday, we discovered that we are, in fact, having a Baby Girl!  I literally screamed when the ultrasound tech told us.  Like, "I just won a car" scream.  John proceed to smile ear-to-ear for the rest of the day.  I have caught him several times staring off into space.  When I ask him if he's okay, he just responds, "I cannot believe we're having a girl!"



I'm a girl!

S has been adamant that we were having a girl since the beginning.  When you asked him, "Is the baby in Mommy's tummy a boy or a girl?" he, without fail, would always respond "It's a baby girl!"  He would also say that he had a baby in his tummy, so I wasn't inclined to trust his judgment.  When we came home from the appointment I said, "S, you were right!  We're having a baby girl!"  He responded with a simple "I know!" 

L usually responded to the same question with, "Uh, it's a bulldozer!"

 

Creepy open mouth shot.  She kept opening and closing her mouth and waving her hands.

To celebrate our Big News and stave off snow poisoning, I did two things.  First, I baked a very large chocolate cake with a cream cheese frosting filling and chocolate buttercream frosting on the outside. 

I experimented with all new recipes.  The cake was good, but not as moist as I had hoped.  In my defense, I have an incredibly low-grade oven that makes baking tricky.  You can find the cake recipe here.  The cream cheese frosting was fantastic, and that recipe can be found here.  And the chocolate buttercream has to be one of the best I've ever had.  Seriously.  My only regret is that I didn't make a double batch in order to really cover my cake (recipe here). 

The second thing I did, was go shopping.  I had no idea it would be so fun to shop for dresses that I don't have to give to someone else! 

Her Summer 2015 wardrobe is under way!

V-Day Prep

I really do love Valentine's Day.  I know it's highly commercialized and was likely created to sell cards, chocolates, etc. but, I can't help it!  A celebration of love is wonderful and so badly needed in this crazy world.  Admittedly, I was less fond of V-Day when I was single.  I now wish I had focused more on the people in my life that  I loved and whom I know loved me instead of focusing on what I thought I lacked.  In reality, I never lacked anything.  I was always surrounded by love even if it wasn't romantic.

Another thing I love? Novelty shirts for my boys.  It's not hard to find Valentine's Day garb for little girls or babies, but boys older than 2, well, there's a serious lack of options.  Instead of banging my head against a brick wall I decided to search Pinterest for ideas and I found this adorable gem compliments of Emily from The Boy Trifecta: Robot Love Valentine's Shirt. 

I decided to give it a shot.  To recreate this look I purchased (or had in my stash):

Two toddler size shirts

Fabric for Robot

Robot Template (you can use Emily's, but created my own)

Thread

Fusible Web

Black & Red Embroidery Thread

 

 I scored the t-shirts on clearance at Target for $3 a piece, bringing the cost for this project to $6.

 



 

 

I purchased my robot fabric, fusible web and embroidery thread at JoAnn's, for $7.13.  I already had thread and the cardstock I used for my template.  Grand total for two shirts: $13.13.  Not bad.

 

 

 

Of course, if we wanted to be technical, we could add the cost I originally spent for the thread, cardstock, and add a monetary value to my time,  but I don't feel like being a nerd.

 

I followed Emily's instructions.  I won't detail them here, because I want you to visit her site.  This is, after all, her invention.  I did make my own tweaks: I outlined the heart with black embroidery thread and I made my own template with my own dimensions.

 

 

 

And, drum roll please, here is the finished project!

 

 

 



My sewing is a bit wonky in places (i.e. the robot ears), but my whole life is a bit wonky.  The only thing I've ever done perfectly is bring two perfect boys into the world (and I can't even take full credit for that).  Oh, and beat my sister Samantha in everything we've ever competed at.  Everything else? Wonky.  I've learned to like wonky, so it's okay.

 

Plus, I usually sew under these conditions:

 

 

 





Selma

"The time is always right to do what is right." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Last Saturday, thanks to my mom, John and I were able to steal away for the afternoon to have lunch and catch a movie.  We debated back and forth on which movie to see...The Intimidation Game, Unbroken, but we finally landed on Selma.  We do not have cable TV in our home, so we had not seen any trailers for Selma.  But, after reading the description we knew we had to see it.

And I'm so glad we did.

First, a brief re-cap of the movie via IMDb:

"The unforgettable true story chronicles the tumultuous three-month period in 1965, when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led a dangerous campaign to secure equal voting rights in the face of violent opposition. The epic march from Selma to Montgomery culminated in President Johnson signing the Voting Rights Act of 1965, one of the most significant victories for the civil rights movement. Director Ava DuVernay's "Selma" tells the story of how the revered leader and visionary Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr and his brothers and sisters in the movement prompted change that forever altered history." (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1020072/)

The movie also explores the tensions between Dr. King's group, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) and the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) as well as tensions in Dr. King's marriage, which were egged on by the FBI.  While I was familiar with the SCLC and SNCC, I was unaware of the tensions between the two groups, at least in Selma.  Additionally, I knew very little about Dr. King and Coretta Scott King's marriage, let alone the interference from the FBI.  To be fair, Dr. King was unfaithful, but the FBI added to the strains on their marriage in a variety of ways, aimed at creating additional turmoil in their home and sidetracking Dr. King.  Nothing short of tragic and, frankly, un-American.

It should be noted that there has been some debate regarding the portrayal of President Johnson in the movie, and one should be aware of that prior to viewing the movie, but that is for another conversation.

Although the movie is rated PG-13, I found the very realistic violence overwhelming at times.  John and I were both in tears at various points in the movie.  I just can't believe that these events happened, and just over 50 years ago.  It makes one think of all of the extreme evil that we don't see. 

With that being said, I left the movie feeling hopeful and admiring the bravery of people working towards what is right.  The battle may be long and arduous, but in the end good does prevail.  I love knowing that there are people in this world who feel so strongly about correcting injustice that they are willing to make great sacrifices.  How can you not be hopeful knowing that there are unyielding people on the side of righteousness? 

And while there are many more obstacles people of color (I would also add women and religious minorities) have to overcome, the sacrifices of those who came before us were not in vain. They accomplished much and created a foundation for future generations to build on.  They continue to be an example and source of strength for people in their time of struggle.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this movie since we viewed it. I find myself drawing parallels between recent events, including the Charlie Hedbo attacks in Paris coupled with the anti-Muslim and anti-religion backlash that has ensued across Europe.  I certainly do not condone the terrorist attacks in any way, but nor do I condone the French's attacks on religious individual's rights to be able to express their faith via religious clothing and symbols.

In short, get out and see this movie.  It is nothing short of moving and will hopefully continue to spur conversations regarding the protection of freedom and justice. 

Gypsy

You may have wondered to yourself why I chose to name my blog "Modern Mormon Gypsy".  Even if you haven't, I'm about to explain it! 

Modern:  I like to think of myself as a modern woman (*gag*, I kind of hate saying that), doing my best to raise a healthy and happy family while maintaining some semblance of my own individual goals and aspirations.  I've come to terms with the reality that you can't "have it all" all at once without making some sacrifices.  This has been a difficult realization, one that I believe many women have experienced.  I've decided to take the "times and seasons" approach to my life. 

I think the Mormon part is obvious:  I'm a practicing Mormon and my faith informs many of my decisions and the lifestyle I choose to lead.  I decided not to leave this aspect out of my blogging because 1. it's just too large a part of my life and 2. there are a billion misconceptions about Mormons (some of them well-deserved) and I like to challenge those misconceptions, offer a safe place for non-Mormons to pose questions without feeling pressure, and show people we're just a little bit (not a lot bit) crazy. Okay, in my particular case I'm a lot bit crazy.  But that is for many other reasons beyond my faith.

Gypsy: I have serious wanderlust.  I blame most of this on inherited genes from my ancestors who couldn't seem to keep still.  I love traveling and living in different places.  The moves have not always been easy (turns out a large life change is one of my depression triggers!) but they have always been completely worth it.  I love a good adventure and can't help but wonder what new things I will discover in a new place.  There are just too many things to experience!  And, you know what?  I want to experience everything.

My means have not allowed me to backpack across Europe, go on safari in Africa or take a grand tour of the Orient (Wait a minute...can I say "orient"?  Is that racist?), but I have made my way up, down and across the U.S.  Luckily for me, this country is DIVERSE.  The world travel will happen for me, just not in this season of my life (Bucket List Goal #3 - Visit all 7 Continents).

Growing up, we moved a lot around the Phoenix area.  I attended 7 different elementary schools.  Once I was in junior high and high school, I did attend the same two schools for six years, but we lived in three different houses during that time.  It was hard, but I adapted to starting over and making new friends.  Staying in one place too long became boring.

The thought of attending college in Arizona after high school did not make me happy.  I viewed that time as an opportunity to experience a life I couldn't have in AZ.  I did seriously consider college in AZ, for financial reasons, but with the help of my uncle decided the only place I could go to school was the University of Washington in Seattle (GO HUSKIES!).  By some miracle, I was accepted and moved to Seattle in July of 2000, just over a month after I graduated high school.  And thus begins my state-hopping adventure. 

After one wedding (more to come on my 1st marriage in upcoming posts), multiple rain coats, and a bachelor's degree, I made my way back to Phoenix for four years.  In that time my first marriage came to an end, I became roomies with one of my favorite cousins in Tempe, reconnected with John after not speaking for five years and bought a house with my sister.  During this time I experienced many ups and downs of singledom, many of which are now quite funny.



Contrary to popular belief, Hawaii is much farther from the mainland U.S. and no where near Alaska.

John and I decided we needed to at least be in the same state to find out if our relationship was as serious as we thought.  There was so much agonizing over what to do until I was laid off and the choice was made for me.  My sister and I sold our home, I sold my car, gave away most of my belongings and moved to Honolulu.

After six months of draining my savings (Hawaii is a notoriously difficult place to find work for "mainlanders", beyond waiting tables), I decided it was time to pursue a master's degree.  John and I applied to five different schools in five very different parts of the country and decided to attend the University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee.  Oh, how I love Milwaukee!  It was there that we finally became engaged, married and pregnant with our first boy, S.  It was a busy two years.

Once we graduated, the job search began.  John took a position with a government contractor outside of Boston and we moved to New England.  We have loved living in Massachusetts; the combination of history, culture and natural beauty have made it a great fit for us.  Although, I will admit it is seriously lacking in cuisine beyond Italian food and seafood. 

And now, with Baby #3 on the way (debuting in July 2015!), we are at a crossroads once again for various reasons.  Our hope is that we will remain in New England but, truly, only Heavenly Father knows what our future holds.  There are days when I feel like I could spend the next 30 years here and others where the "itch" kicks in and I want to know what life would be like somewhere completely different. 

I don't know that I will ever feel completely settled. Certainly, our goal is to make life as stable for our children as possible, but I would certainly not object to selling everything we own and living in a Winnebago once we retire.  Nope, scratch that.  We're going to backpack across Europe, go on safari in Africa and take a grand tour of the Orient. 

Tender Mercy? Try Miracle!

We are fortunate enough to own two cars: a 2008 Jeep Patriot and John's Kia Race Machine aka a 2001 Kia Sephia he bought brand new when he was 18 years old. 

There is nothing innately fancy about the Kia Race Machine.  It has a standard transmission, you have to manually unroll the windows and unlock the doors.  It's at a point in it's life where the radio doesn't always work, so you get the opportunity to drive around in silence.  Particularly fun with children or an overly-talkative person in the car!

This car has nine lives.  Sure, it's got dings and knicks crunches, but it keeps hanging on.  Everyone close to us has experienced the Kia Race Machine.  This last year it has had a number of issues, all that we've fixed, but the fear is that it may be on it's last leg.

The Kia Race Machine:  Keep on keepin' on

We had to take the car into the mechanic yesterday and leave it over night.  As a consequence, the boys and I woke up at 4:00 am to take John to work.  As many of you with toddlers know, this can be a terrifying experience.  The boys were in good spirits all the way to John's work and did not freak out when he left.

On our way home, I talked with them about how "it is still night night.  When we get home, we need to lay back down and take a little rest before breakfast."  They weren't thrilled with that plan and they made sure to let me know.

Upon arriving home, I wrestled them upstairs and back into their room.  The whole time I kept thinking, "S has preschool at 9:30 am. How am I going to get these boys back to sleep so they are not wrecked for the entire day?"

I put them in their beds, they cried.  I gave them cars, they cried.  I turned on night lights, they cried.  I sang to them for 20 minutes, they cried.  Finally, I asked them to say a prayer with me.  I prayed and said something like this: "Heavenly Father, I know you can help these boys return to sleep.  We have such a big day ahead of us and I want them to be happy.  I want them to have fun.  I know you love them and you want them to have a good day as well.  Please help them to return to sleep."  After closing my prayer I decided to have faith that Heavenly Father would help me and the boys.  I KNEW He would help them sleep, and quickly banished any doubtful thoughts.

I shut the door, entered my bedroom and, this is not a joke, within 60 seconds heard complete silence.  S and L share a room and typically spend at least 20 minutes playing, laughing and/or screaming.  Not this time, though.  Not a peep.  They slept for the next 2 1/2 hours before I woke them for breakfast.  If this wasn't a miracle wrought by the hand of the Lord, then I don't know what is.

I know God hears our prayers.  I know God cares about the small things in our lives.  I know He is ready and willing to bless us with miracles when we are in need and have faith.  I know God loves us.  I know God loves you.

I just hope He loves the Kia Race Machine enough to pull it through its latest malady.  :-)

The boys reading their favorite periodical: The Auto Trader.  They're always on the look out for our next vehicle.

*Update* The Kia Race Machine is back on the road and ready to party!  Two miracles.  BOOM.

A Boy's Life: A Story in Pictures (aka Mom is too tired to write anything of substance.)

I know.  It's been a while.  Like four months.  But, perhaps after looking at these pictures that highlight a few of our summer-time and fall adventures, you'll understand why I'm strapped for time.  Enjoy!

 

 

L atop his perch.

18th Century Slumber Party

Will work for cookies.



"So I says to Mabel, I says..."

Future plumber.

Chocolate pudding always tastes better when licked off the table.

Pants are overrated.

S lurking in the background.

Helping Dad retrieve cars from under the oven.

Get to work.

They began the night in their own beds.