Things I Want to Remember

We recently painted part of what we call our music room and the adjoining library.  Sidenote: I feel a bit pretentious calling it the library, but I'm not sure why.  I love that I have a whole room to devote to reading!  For now, it also houses some Tess toys, but eventually, it'll be devoted wholly to books.  

Tess was DYING to paint like Mommy and Daddy, so we saved a section of wall just for her.  She loved painting, and took it very seriously.  

Daddy is a good helper, too.  :)

The finished product:

We also painted two walls of our half bath the same color (below pics), and I love how everything turned out!  I have a few other small projects that I want to do in these two rooms before I'll consider them done, but this was a big step in the right direction.  

After the rainiest winter ever, and what is already a very rainy spring (ugh), we have taken every opportunity we can to be outside when it IS sunny.  I took Tess running one of those days, and then we played at a nearby park for awhile.  

It was warm enough for short sleeves!  Hallelujah!  

Maia beside her volcano project that she did for her science class.  At first, she worked for literally hours and hours trying to make a volcano out of salt dough.  It did not go well.  Luckily, my dad saved the day!  One night, when he couldn't sleep, and knowing that Maia was stressed about her project, he researched how to make paper mache, and began making a volcano out of it.  Maia finished it and painted it, and it turned out awesome!  It's a model of Mt. Redoubt, in Alaska.  All the other kids chose typically famous volcanoes, but Maia wanted this one because she lived through one of its eruptions.  Pretty cool.  I'm seriously tempted to let Maddie use it when she's in 8th grade.  I mean, what do you learn from making the model?  Check back with me in three years... :)

Silly selfies (do you call them "selfies" when it's two people?):

A few days ago, Tess wanted to wear goggles while bathing, but she refused to then put her head under the water.  This kid is endlessly entertaining.  

I know you can't tell from the below picture, but I was soaked!  I had run 4.5 miles in the bright, happy sunshine, and then bam!  Hail and heavy, driving rain for another half a mile.  And then just as suddenly, the sun was back, acting like nothing had happened at all...silly Pacific Northwest spring.  Make up your dang mind.  :)

Have a fantastic day!

A Letter to My Belly

Oh, belly.  You poor maligned soul.
I have spent all the years I remember hating and loathing you.  Trying to shrink and control you.
As you grew, so did my hate.  For you.  For myself.  As you flattened, I would begin to forgive you.
You were never worthy of love until you looked exactly like I wanted you to.  Then I became magnanimous and bestowed conditional affection on you: "You are finally allowed to be seen.  You are enough.  But you better stay this way, or else!!!"

But you were never meant for lifelong stasis!  And it wasn't possible, with the way I treated you!  I made you struggle with food that hurt you and that was hard to digest.  Or I ate more than you could handle.  And then I railed against you when you responded in the only way you could.

Alicia and I, at her college graduation party, the day I went into labor with Maia.  I was using the watch to time my contractions.

You safely carried my three babies, and I was so relieved to have months and months where I didn't have to hate you.  Where your bigness was a sign of health.  Where my worth didn't depend on your size because I had no control whatsoever over how you formed over my tiny babies' bodies.  Then I transferred my hate to my widening face, arms, bum.  Once my babies were born, exhausted, you drooped and sagged and instead of thanking you for doing a lovely job, I instantly hated you again.  "This is no time for a rest!  Shrink!  Now!  GO AWAY!"



Sweet little Maia touching my belly when I was pregnant with Maddie.

You have always been me.  Only okay if I looked "right".  Only worthy of love if others noticed me and liked what they saw.  You have been the lightning rod for almost every bad thought I've ever had about myself.  My barometer of self-acceptance.  In front of every mirror, my eyes go to you first: "Am I allowed to like myself right now?"  I have looked down at you, literally and figuratively, thousands and thousands of times, checking to see if I was acceptable yet.  

Pregnant with Tess, about two months before she was born.  

I was happiest with you in the spring of 2015.  I'd finally made myself do what it took to make you, and therefore me, look acceptable.  Good, even.  This lasted for about a year, but then, slowly, you grew.  A lifestyle of rigorous deprivation, with the occasional indulgence, proved unsustainable.  And then I was diagnosed with an eating disorder.  Intensive treatment began: no more rules concerning food.  No more deprivation or diets.  No "good" or "bad" foods.  And it's working!  I can see, looking back, how my relationship with food is changing.  Sweet progress.  But guess what almost always happens when you are recovering from an eating disorder?  You gain weight.

Celebrating my first short-sleeved run of the year!  :)

So, even though I know that the size of my belly and the number on the scale have ZERO to do with my value or my happiness, I still want you, my belly, to be smaller.  And gaining 10 - 15 pounds (I think...I don't weigh myself anymore) has been devastating for me.  Your "new" size has caused me to panic, and feel even more terrible about myself.  Again!  Argh!

But last week, as I was talking to my nutritionist, she told me that you are responding the way that you're supposed to when healing from an eating disorder.  My body is channeling weight to you as a way of saying, "She's finally not depriving us anymore!  But she could at any time!  So save up, boys, save up!  We need to build up our belly stores, stat!"  Yay.  But here's the good news: once I am no longer in flux, and on the other side of this struggle, my body will trust that it doesn't need to store up fat the way that it currently is.  Equilibrium, and my natural, happy weight, is coming.  Suddenly, you became a sign of healing!  Proof that I am taking better care of myself, not that I am somehow failing.  It now feels possible to see you as something to be proud of and not something that I need to hide.  You don't have to be a source of shame.

So, belly, I am so sorry.  It's still going to be really hard to not wish for you to be less than you are, and I'll probably even still hate you sometimes.  I'll still struggle with wanting to look like someone else.  But not forever.  I'm closer to loving you than I ever have been.  Loving me.

Enjoying some rare sun on a walk with Olly.

Thank you for all you've allowed me to do.  You've helped me to run thousands and thousands of miles, and to carry and grow three beautiful little humans.  You've seen me through diagnosis after diagnosis: clinical depression, a generalized anxiety disorder, an eating disorder, and most recently, PTSD.  You've borne the brunt of all my stress and pain and the side effects of medicine after medicine.  You've always been there for me, holding me together, and I can finally start believing that I'm glad you're mine.  That I'm glad to be me.

So, rock on, belly.  We've got this.  

Holy cold, Batman!

I woke up this morning at 5:15 a.m.  I laid there until 5:25, talking to myself about whether or not going for a run was a good idea (why is it that my bed feels its most amazing when I have to get out of it?!?!).  Running won (but just barely), so I checked my phone to see how cold it was, and then got dressed for the weather.  Or so I thought!  I didn't realize that my phone was still telling me how cold it was when I went to bed last night: 31 degrees.  I walked outside and thought, "Man!  It feels a lot colder than 31 degrees.  Oh well, I'll warm up once I run for awhile."  Within a minute or two, my lower legs were stinging from the cold, but I just kept telling myself that I'd feel better soon...I just had to keep running.  Wrong!  But I persevered, mainly out of pride, and also because running back home to put on more clothes would mean that I wouldn't have enough time to run as far as I wanted to.  After awhile, both legs and my poor bum were freezing.  Six point one miles later, I walked through my front door, ran straight to my beloved fireplace, and found out that it was actually SIXTEEN degrees outside.  And I was wearing this (plus shoes, of course):

I've run in much colder weather before, as any self-respecting Alaskan runner has to, but never with bare calves!  BRRRRRR!  I'm giving myself a few Bad Ass Runner points for today's workout.  And maybe a few Stupid Prideful Runner ones, too.  :)  

Yesterday's workout began with a 5:30 a.m. Body Pump class.  I hadn't gone to one in awhile, so it was rather hard, but it felt good, too.  My goal is to go to a Body Pump class once a week.

I'm the one in the light blue t-shirt...taking the picture.  Duh.  :)

After Body Pump, I cranked out three miles on the treadmill.  I was serenaded by many a musician, including Shawn Mendes.  As you can see, he gets pretty worked up about my workouts:

The Valley put up a ton of Christmas lights on the outside of their main building, and it looked so cool!  Christmas lights are the best!

I like how you can tell that my face is super red, even though it was dark outside.  I've perfected Sweaty Beast Mode.  

Yesterday morning, Tess and I helped two of our friends redecorate a bulletin board at church.  Tess was a good sport, and played with her cars, ate her goldfish crackers, and decorated a white board with her marker masterpieces.  

Time to eat dinner!  Thanks for reading!  

Glad That He Was Born

Yesterday began with a great 6.6-mile run with three of my running buddies: Danika, Christine, and Michelle.  At first, it was wickedly, miserably cold because of wind, but after half a mile or so we were warmed up enough to not mind it too much.  

Post-run, driving home and marveling at the way the cold was radiating from my bum and thighs.  Brrrrrrr!  

A couple of hours (and a long, hot shower) later, we met up with my parents and brother for lunch at Happy Teriyaki.  'Twas in honor of my brother's upcoming birthday (he'll be 35 on the 8th), but he left for home (California) today, so we had to party early.  I really enjoyed my meal (teriyaki chicken and gyoza) and the company.  

My "little" brother, Taylor, Maddie, and Maia the walrus.  

Tess chose frozen yogurt, but would only eat the sprinkles.  With her fingers.  

My wonderful parents!

The dude I married, and my dad giving the girls a chopsticks tutorial.

Me 'n my Tess

Maddie entertained herself for awhile with taking pictures of us while we weren't looking.  Yay.  

After chillin' at Chez NelsEn for awhile, I went to Taekwondo with Maddie while Tyler and the other girlies went to my parents' house.  After Taekwondo, reunited at Casa NelsOn, we had pizza for dinner, and my dad's AMAZING orange cake for Taylor's birthday dessert.  Along with ice cream, because no NelsOn/NelsEn celebration is complete without it.  

Honoring (hilariously) the glorious birth of The Taylor:

Paying homage to the deliciousness that is Dad's orange cake!  

"Wait...if he's 35, then I must be how old?!?!"

The party ended with a few fun rounds of Catchphrase and some more goofy pictures:

We love Taylor, and can't wait until we can see him again!

Today, the girls went back to school, Tyler to work, and Tess and I resumed our semi-lonely normal routine.  I began the day with a 2-mile walk with this guy:

In the 20-degrees-Farenheit dark (but the stars were out, and that was gorgeous):

And I have since cleaned a bunch of stuff (including my previously-nasty, now-sparkling-clean shower), folded some clothes, and read some books to this babe:

Now I'm going to spend the rest of naptime reading and eating yummy food.  Wild, wild stuff.  :)

Thanks for reading!

Fresh Tracks

Happy New Year!  

2016 was a rotten, piece-of-pooh year.  It was full of gut-punch trials and exhausting problems and so many damn tears.  So, I now kick 2016's sorry bum to the curb, and embrace 2017 with open arms! 

*Disclaimer (lest I be thought an ungrateful wretch):  2016 also holds many happy memories.  I know that Heavenly Father greatly blessed me and my family (as He always has) and that He will continue to do so.  

I began the new year with a 5.6-mile run (the above picture was taken right before I left to go running).  Now that we don't go to church until 1 p.m., I think I'll start running on Sunday mornings, and then take a rest day during the week.  That way, there will be one less day that I'll have to get up at 5-freakin'-o' clock in the a.m.  Yay!  

Normally, I don't run on Sunday, but I decided that it would be alright (and not breaking the Sabbath - for me, personally) if I used that run as a time to focus on all the things that I'm grateful for.  I did just that, and I had the best run!  I felt so stinkin' happy!  It was frosty and gorgeous outside (and a bit slippery), and I trotted along mentally listing things that make me happy.  I thanked Heavenly Father for my legs and my healthy body.  For the beautiful, tall trees that are all around me all the time.  For awesome, inspiring music (Tom Petty!).  For chocolate and good books and my favorite people and so many other things.  It felt like a really cheerful prayer.  

Post-run, high on endorphins and gratitude.

It was a big day at church today for Tess.  Now that she is 3, she officially enters Primary and becomes a Sunbeam.  She no longer attends Nursery (read: snacks and toys for two hours).  She was pretty happy to be a Sunbeam...until she realized what that meant (no toys and a lot more having to sit still and listen).  It's a big change for these little ones, and she didn't want me to leave.  I did, but had to come back after just a few minutes because she was crying pretty hard.  The poor kid spent most of the second hour of church on my lap, and then Tyler spent most of the third hour with her.  I know she'll make the transition eventually, and I don't mind spending time with her in Primary, but I hated seeing her so sad!  Luckily, her two teachers are kind and wonderful and patient.  They obviously really cared about trying to cheer Tess up.  That meant a lot to me!  Before the tears came, I got these cute pictures of her:

My wee babe is growing up.  Sigh.  

Our day ended with delicious pancakes for dinner at my parents' house and hilarious YouTube videos.  All in all, it was a good day.  So far, so good, 2017.  Keep it up. 

Thanks for reading!