Consider it Joy

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4

Not just joy, but pure joy. Why? Because trials make you stronger. 

It's hard to look at it that way when you are in the midst of what seems like a life-changing trial. We don't find the joy, we worry, stress, rehash, dwell, complain, etc, etc...

At least, I do, or used to. I'm trying to be better. 

What good does all that worry and stress do? It doesn't, it just robs us of our joy. It robs us of our happiness and then there we are wasting a minute, an hour, a day, a week of our time. Time that we aren't guaranteed, anyway. Tomorrow isn't promised, so do you want your possible last day to be filled with worry and doubt?

Worrying isn't going to change anything, it won't fix anything. I'm guessing more often than not, it makes things worse and in the end, doesn't matter anyway.

So, here's me, vowing to worry less, and live more. How about you?

to the moon and back,

I wore a bikini to the beach...

Ok, so two questions probably came to your mind when you read the title:

1. Why?
2. Why are you telling me about it?

I'll answer both of those for you (you probably have many more than that, but I'm not a mind reader).

I didn't wear a bikini to the beach because I look like a super model. I didn't wear a bikini to the beach because I have a perfect body. I didn't wear a bikini to the beach because I have super high self esteem and I didn't wear a bikini to the beach because I love every inch of my body. (I have never met a woman who does love every inch of her body, we all have a hang up or two.)

I wore a bikini to the beach because I wanted to prove to myself that I could (plus this pasty white tummy was just screaming for a little color). I'm insecure. I'm a girl, I think we are all born with at least a little insecurity bred into us, the media helps take care of the rest of our insecurities. I have stretch marks and cellulite. I have freckles and uneven skin tone. I have a belly, sagging skin and my thighs touch. I'm not photoshoped or air brushed... (I know, shocker!) Even the medical field adds to it, according to their BMI calculators, I'm currently over weight and have been obese most of my life.

But here's what the bikini doesn't show (or my BMI for that matter)... I can do 90 minutes of hot yoga without stopping. I can bike 14 miles at a 12 mile pace. I can jog a 5k. I can spend the day doing manual labor. I can keep up with my 3 year old (most days). I am fit, even if my body doesn't show it. 

Want to know what I learned from this experience? No one ran from me in sheer terror. No one pointed and giggled. No one stared and whispered. No one even gave me a double take. I'm not sure what I thought would happen, but it was ridiculously uneventful. Well, aside from the fact that I opted for no sunscreen because we had a canopy up and I got fried, on that pasty white tummy that I am sure has not see much of the light of day.

Now, on to why I am telling you about it. Well, because if I can do it you can do it... conquer your fear that is. Your fear may not be a bikini (and by the way, it was very tasteful suit, no tiny bikini's), but it can be conquered. I'm not saying that it has to be a huge fear that you conquer, start with the small ones. Then the big ones don't seem so unattainable.

I know I sound extremely superficial and/or narcissistic, but if you ask my hubby, you'll see what a real fear this was for me. No matter how confident I come across in person, I am a big ball of self doubt at home. I am working on just loving me.

I even remember the first time I felt heavy. It was Easter and I was about 7. My great-grandma gave me a cute, stuffed, yellow Easter bunny with fluffy white cheeks. She said that she got it for me because it reminded her of me, chubby. No, she meant that in the most loving way, but that's what sticks with a 7 year old girl. I'll have to find the picture of me from that year to share.

Let me know what fears you want to conquer... :)

to the moon and back,

Censor me?

No need, I do enough censoring on my own.

Now, when I sat down to write, I had a totally different topic to discuss, several actually (all of which will eventually become blog posts):

• The Paradigm Shift aka When did I become the old one?
• Hot Yoga + Leftover Mascara = Hot Mess aka Do I look like one of those dead party girls found in a back alley on an episode of Law & Order SVU?
• ISO a Bubble for my Son aka This world is crazy and I don't want him to be exposed to it.
• Breakouts & Wrinkles aka If you are old enough for wrinkles, wouldn't it only be fair to grow out of breakouts?

But then, my hubby and I were having a deep philosophical conversation over a deliciously flavored coffee (Pecan Praline, if you were wondering) and it spurred this topic. Like I have said before, this blog is my therapy, so I shall get it out of my head and onto the screen.

I censor myself way too much. I'm not talking about cuss words, and I'm not talking about blatantly calling someone names or the like, I'm talking about my feelings and my opinions and so on.

I don't want to offend anyone... ever. Which I guess isn't totally a bad thing to those around me, but it also makes me a bit of a push over leaving myself wide open to be taken advantage of, but is it really being taken advantage of if I say "yes" even if it is for fear of offending you? It's ridiculous, I even get anxiety over possible offending someone, even if I am defending myself. 

Why? Why am I so concerned? I don't want to be mean to anyone, but, dang it, if you ask if I like the song you are listening to, I should be able to say no. If you ask my opinion, I should be able to truthfully give it to you with out feeling guilty. I mean, for pete's sake, I shouldn't have to proof read and rewrite a 4 line text 10 times before sending because I'm worried about how it will sound. It's so bad that I even try to censor my hubby and the things that come out of his mouth. However, anyone who knows him knows that's darn near impossible.

The bottom line is, I should be able to be me... period. If you love me, you'll appreciate my honesty, if you are a fair-weather friend, then you'll probably be offended, but that's ok, too and I should be ok with that, because if you are willing to not take me for all that I am, then I probably shouldn't have you in my life. 

I don't know where this people-pleasing trait came from, but I'd kind of like to return it.

PS I had my hubby proofread this to make sure it didn't sound to harsh.... Geeze... what's wrong with me? :)

to the moon and back,

I'm very put together...

Anyone who knows me personally, knows that I am very "put together". I'm very even keel and very in control of my emotions. (Insert sarcasm font) I'm so not that. I cry at stupid stuff (like episodes of Ghost Whisperer and ASPCA commercials), I'm an emotional train wreck since I had Moose.

Last night in bed at about 11:30pm (when I most definitely should have been sleeping), it hit me, Moose is turning 2. Not just hit me, knocked me down and stomped on my face.

It was totally a emotional hormone filled attack and totally irrational, but here are the thoughts that ran though my head as I cried uncontrollably and DH tried to console me (poor guy):

~ It's going by too fast..
~ He's really not a baby anymore
~ He's closer to not needing me
~ I don't want him to fall in love and get married and move away from me
~ I don't want him to outgrow my hugs
~ What if he is as horrible to me as I was to my parents when I was a teenager
~ It's not fair that when he becomes an adult, he'll probably be closer to Jon than to me
~ And many more irrational fears and thoughts that I'm sure I am completely overreacting with but insanity emotions are hard to control!

Dumb, I know, but every once and a while I freak out about it. Jon thinks I'm crazy because Moose is just now getting to be really fun! Then he proceeded to tell me how he compares Moose's two years to running and went into a very lengthy explanation. I was super impressed by his analogy but could not repeat it to save my life. He's such a good man. I love him to death and he totally got my mind off my anxiety.