Christmas was great this year with my Non-Existant Family.  I totally scored in the gift department – thank goodness I finally acknowledged them.  Here are some of the things I received this Christmas.

From my Non-Existent Husband

Kip adores me and although he loves me “just the way I am” he wants me to be around for years.

From my Non-Existent Daughter Acai

She’s going to cosmetology school and thought I just had to have this.

From my Non-Existent Daughter Honey

Isn’t this simply adorable?

From my Non-Existent Son Kalib

His sister told him to get it – he really isn’t in to shopping.

From my Non-Existent In-Laws

We just needed one -  they are so practical that way.  Yes it’s a twin size but really Kip doesn’t take up that much room

As you can tell I was very bless-ed by my non-existent family but am having some trouble balancing my checkbook with all these mysterious charges.

Last Monday was the family Christmas Party.  This is the party with my brothers, sister, and their families.  It’s always so much fun and I try to bring something for the kids to completely annoy their parents as well as some kind of treat to get them totally hyped up on sugar.  It was a smashing success as this year they belted each other with the giant balloon hands I got.

After the party was over and I was getting ready to leave my 3 nieces Clarissa, Camille and Cheyenne presented me with their gift.  It was a DVD that contained a slide show with pictures of their family and myself with the song “You Make Me Smile” playing in the background.  I sat there and cried as I felt an overwhelming feeling of gratitude come over me.  When the DVD was done one of them said “let your non-existent children compete with that.”  The truth is — they can’t – the things that I don’t have – and maybe even had hoped for,  can in no way compete with the incredible joys I have right now.  Mostly found in the people that I love – and who love me.

]]> http://soulhappy.wordpress.com/2009/12/28/christmas-gifts/feed/ 2 soulhappy wii straightener apron susan-boyle My mattress christmas09 I heart You http://soulhappy.wordpress.com/2009/11/30/i-love-my-non-existent-family/ http://soulhappy.wordpress.com/2009/11/30/i-love-my-non-existent-family/#comments Mon, 30 Nov 2009 04:14:37 +0000 soulhappy http://soulhappy.wordpress.com/?p=430 ]]>

Driving home from work the other night it dawned on me that had I gotten married and had children when I was in m early twenties — I would be getting more Christmas presents.  The small child in my decided that this was NOT FAIR.  So I have officially decided (as opposed to unofficially deciding) that my non-existent family should be getting me Christmas presents this year.

I have discovered that my non-existent family is not good at keeping surprises.  For example my non-existent oldest daughter who is now in cosmetology school just bought me a nice new flat iron for Christmas.  She couldn’t wait for Christmas day and insisted I begin using it immediately.  She’s so cute that way.

I know it’s suppose to be a secret, but I believe my non-existent husband is going to get me a Wii and Wii-fit for Christmas.  Shhhhh.  Don’t let on that I suspect.

I’m not yet sure how many children I have but will keep you posted as the presents roll in.

Thank goodness the company I work for has a spam filter on the email.  The only problem is, I am one of the lucky ones who daily has to go through all the email caught in the spam filter for 5 email addresses to make sure a real email from a customer doesn’t get caught there.  Out of the hundreds that do get caught in the spam filter – about 1 or 2 a week are from legitimate customers.   But some of these email really make me wonder a few things  . . .

• Is my current watch too out of fashion?
• Should I give myself the best present ever?  Would that really be the best “cheap-Gucci-watch” I’ll ever find?
• Should I learn chinese and arabic just to see what the 45 emails I’m getting really say?
• Does the Barristers Chamber Marcus Andreen in England really truly want to be my business partner?
• Is my paypal account compromised?
• Do I need a skin care service?
• How do they know I need body parts enlarged?  What if I don’t have those parts?
• Can I really purchase peace of mind for 60% off?
• How does that site “feelingfattoday” know that my medication is ready for shipping?

I guess there are just some mysteries in the world I will never know the answer to.

Today I said goodbye to a co-worker that I have worked with for several years.  She is off to start a new adventure as a full-time mom.  Her first baby is due in a couple of weeks.  As we walked out of the office today at 5:00 I confessed that I was slightly envious. I told her that on the days when she is exhausted, depressed, and up to her elbows in poopy diapers that she is living my dream.

It’s true!  I never planned to have a career outside of being a wife and a mom.  After all the plans written out in my journal when I was 16 about “when I grow up and have kids”, I never imagined that it wouldn’t happen.  At 18 I still had that dream.  I still had that dream at 21, being certain that as soon as I came home from my mission I would find the love of my life and start having babies.  At 25 I reminded myself that not everyone marries young.  At 30 I told myself that outside of Utah it was normal to get married and start a family in your 30’s and that there was no reason to give up hope.  At 39 I believed that if I stopped dreaming it would mean I lacked faith.  Now at 43 — something has changed.  I started realizing that this life I am living, my “plan B” was really God’s plan “A” all along.

I think I felt it coming for awhile – but it took holding a new born baby a couple months ago for me to finally let the Lord open my heart – and allow it to break into a million pieces.  That baby was perfect in every way and as I came home that night after looking into her pure eyes I couldn’t stop the sobs from coming and wracking my entire body.  I knelt down by the side of my bed and wept and prayed for my broken heart and empty womb.  I got up from my knees and found my mother getting ready for bed and said the words out loud “mom – I will never have babies in this life”.  I knew it was true and she did too and I cried into her shoulder as she wept too.

Just like other living things, sometimes dreams have to die.  And I discovered that it’s okay to mourn the passing.

I’m grateful for new mothers who are living my dream and mothers with 6 children who share their baby with me while they go to Sunday School with their husband, and nieces and nephews that always think I’m amazing (I totally have them snowed – don’t tell them.)  All these things are balm to my heart.

I admit that as I got in my car after work and watched my co-worker leave work for the last time I cried just a little and I smiled to myself too.  I found myself wondering where dreams go when they die.  Is there a little dream cemetery?  I like to think so – because every so often I’ll visit and leave flowers.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

– E.M. Forster

Sometimes in quiet moments I try to get a real good mental image of myself just as I am. This usually happens after I see a photo of myself and I can’t believe that THAT image is what everyone else is seeing.

Recently I tried to use that image in my head to do a serious self assessment. First I had to let go of the criticism because being truly honest with myself does not equal being mean to myself. I concentrate with eyes closed and try to get a vision of myself as a third party looking on. This will be a good exercise I think to myself as I try to make my visualization more clear in my mind.  Hmmm – “I like her” I think,  “she’s funny, laughs easily, and dresses reasonably well”.  Of course I notice she is overweight, but I remind myself not to judge. I keep watching and as I concentrate I realize that it’s almost like the layers of fat are a suit.  It’s just something she’s put on. My heart aches just a bit because I know why she’s wearing that suit. She put it on to protect the real “her” -  the woman that feels vulnerable and has been hurt by the tumbles and falls that sometimes life deals out. She put on the “padding” to hopefully make it hurt less when she gets tripped up by memories of the past and fears of the future. She knows it’s not real protection – it’s like a life preserver that doesn’t really float – it is only bulky, gets in the way, and makes it hard to row the boat.  I think “What if it were a suit that could be unzipped?”  I wonder what would step out?

In my mind I unzip the suit. I expect a thinner version of the woman to step out like I’ve seen in some weight-loss billboard.  As she steps out of the suit, she smiles at the freedom and fresh air that she missed being so stifled.   She is thinner, but mostly she looks healthy and strong.   She starts to walk away from her suit laying on a heap on the floor. She looks around excitedly and slowly she looks back to the suit – her blanket of comfort for years.   She is shocked as she sees still standing in the suit a small blonde girl in a blue dress quietly crying, afraid and confused.

The healthy me walks back, takes the girl by the hand and promises that she’ll never leave her behind. They will move forward together. They won’t look back.

I’ve learned through the years that it’s a good thing to “count your blessings”.  It’s true!   Sometimes it’s so cumbersome though so I have designed a new system.  I have not just counted my blessings — I have numbered them for future reference.   Today I am grateful for blessings #4, #12, #65, and #29.

Wow — Truly I’m blessed!

At the beginning of the summer I posted things that I thought were the best.  Check that out here if you like.  Well not to be a negasaurus or anything but clearly if there is the “best” there must also be the worst.  So here are the winners of my personal “Worst Things Ever” contest.

The Worst Accent In a Movie

Winner:  Drew Barrymore in Ever After

Is the accent French?  English?  Yes it’s a lov-er-ly story.  Yes it’s romantic but come on — she talks like she has a speech impediment.

The Worst Chore I Ever Had to Do

Winner:  Cleaning the grease trap in the kitchen at Oakcrest.

Don a towel around you nose, rubber gloves, and a bucket just in case.  Scooping out the molding greasy gray lumpy water . . .  totally disgusting.

The Worst Blind Date

Winner:  Jay – Former Companion of a Co-Worker 1987

We doubled with his parents to his Stake Gold and Green Ball.  I believe his mother held the brain for the entire family.  As we entered the restaurant she told me she didn’t have any teeth but was getting implants and so she only had 2 screws in her mouth.  She then smiled and showed me — Sure enough — all gums and 2 screws right where Dracula’s fangs would be.  No worries — she gummed down her food AND kept up the conversation.

The Worst Hair Style I Ever Had

Winner:  The Permed Mullet

My senior year of highschool.  It was 1984 and IT was in style at the time.

The Worst Episode of the Brady Bunch

Winner:  Her Sisters Shadow

This episode featured the famous quote “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia”.  Jan whined a lot.  So your older sister was perfect.  At least you weren’t that tattle-tale Cindy!

The Worst Place to Get a Zit

Winner:  Just Right Inside the Very Edge of Your Nose

Admit it — just thinking about this makes your eyes tear up.

Okay those are the winners for this year.  Stay tuned next year for all new categories like Worst Handshake, Worst Embarrassing Moment that Wasn’t Mine But I Witnessed, and Worst Actor Not Even Trying to Have an Accent in a Movie set in England.

It seems that I have a running face-bookish commentary running through my head.  I notice the things I am doing and then translate them into short sentences that may or may not be interesting.  I also noticed I am starting to think of myself in third person.  I made this discovery today on my way home from work.  If my computer were reading my thoughts this is what my facebook status would be saying:

DeAnn, tired from a day at work decides that she should go shopping.

DeAnn calls her mom to see if she needs anything.

DeAnn’s mom needs milk.

DeAnn notices the school supply display at the store entrance and her heart beats faster as she sees bins full of pens, scissors, rulers, glue, colored pencils, and post-it pads.

DeAnn remembers that the Relief Society is collecting school supplies for the Humanitarian Center school bags and feels justified in buying 5 scissors and 5 packs of colored pencils.

DeAnn wonders if store has mu mu’s.

DeAnn see’s ridiculously cute pink pajamas and decides she must have them even though she doesn’t need them.

DeAnn wonders if flavored sparkling water is better for her than soda and puts some in her cart.

DeAnn puts more fresh blueberries in her cart and realizes how fond she has become of fresh blueberries.

DeAnn puts bag of dark chocolate covered pomegranate pieces in her cart because it’s full of antioxidents and she is concerned about her health and getting enough antioxidents.

DeAnn acknowledges that the last sentence is an example of total denial because those pomegrate pieces dipped in dark chocolate really just looked deliciously good.

DeAnn sees baby clothes on clearance sale.  She knows 3 people with babies and decides that she has no choice but to buy baby clothes.

DeAnn is having serious shopping compulsions today.

DeAnn is taking her purchases to her car and is approached by man selling tamales.  She politely declines and wonders who would actually buy tamales from a guy in the parking lot.

DeAnn notices that she has had a running facebook commentary in her head and wonders if she should call her therapist.

DeAnn is now home and puts on ridiculously cute pink pajamas with teeny black polka dots, pours herself some sparkling lemon water (over ice with a slice of lime) and realizes that the commentary in her head is just way to much for facebook.

DeAnn smiles to no one in particular because she realizes – she has a blog.

If I took any of these quotes from your face book — please forgive me.  I won’t put names on them.  They are just some things that friends have posted within the last 24 hours that have caused me to think.

” . . . is sick of having to watch her weight!! How come we all can’t just be skinny and cute without having to sweat our butts off at the gym and living on water and lettuce alone???”

” . . . Is on a fruit and veggie fast.”

” . . . i feel skinny oh so skinny i feel skinny and…..skinny and….uh….SKINNY!! haha. visualization my dear.”

I was also with one of my favorite people yesterday – she is beautiful and in her 20’s.  She is extremely slender — like she weighs maybe 105.  She mentioned that she had gotten fat an was trying to lose weight.

I think of all the times I have thought these same things.  Even when I was thin I felt as fat as I am right now.  Losing weight, thinking about losing weight, and feeling guilty for not losing weight has been my lifelong hobby.  How did all us incredible women get this way?  This place where we have based so much of our worth and success as a human being on what the blasted scale says.  I’m not talking about being healthy and listening to and loving our bodies.  I’m talking about how we as good righteous women still are so full of angst and dissatisfaction with our bodies.  I’m one of them.  I battle that mindset but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being one of them.

This morning on Face book an acquaintance who somehow ended up being listed as a “friend” posted this on his account:

“. . . is so glad that all the attractive girls FLOCK to the city of XXXX. Thank goodness there aren’t a bunch of single heffers desperate to find a husband roaming around town. Man! That would be awful if that were the case. Phew!!”

I read this before starting work this morning.  I’m still angry.  Not because he’s a guy who is attracted to thin women – that’s totally his right.  It’s that his attitude (that he obviously has no reservations sharing) is exactly part of the problem of why so many women are in this lifelong battle with their body, weight, and self worth.  It’s the judgment that a women who is overweight has less worth than their slender sisters.  And who is it that defines what a “heffer” (uhhh spelled “heifer” – spell your insults correctly please) is?  In the minds of some of some of my amazing friends who are zipping their size 4 jeans – it’s them.   It’s also in the minds of those who are putting on size 12 and even size 20.   Many sizes – same issues.

I call for a rebellion against this attitude wherever it is.  I call for loving who we are – right now.  I call for nourishing and nurturing ourselves and letting our bodies go to it’s normal and healthy weight.   That doesn’t mean binging and drowning ourselves in unhealthy foods.  It also doesn’t mean restricting ourselves from everything until we are totally obsessed and in a no-win battle against ourselves.  It doesn’t mean giving up exercise.  It does mean respecting who we are and standing up against the unhealthy messages that bombard us.  It means letting go of even giving ourselves those same unhealthy messages.  Our bodies and spirits make our soul.  It’s time we started nourishing and respecting both.

This is my first movie.  This is NOT Steven Spielberg quality.   This is what my family does for fun on the 4th of July.