Who Rescued Who?

I know I haven't posted anything in a long time and that's because I don't have time to write.
I have a lot of different posts coming, it's just a matter of finding the time. 
Luckily, this morning I have some. 

A little over a month ago, my family and I adopted an elderly chihuahua.
She used to belong to an elderly woman. 
When this woman was put into a nursing home, Lucy was abandoned. 
She was later found by a great organization near me. 
I met Lucy in July at our local Petco and immediately fell in love with her. 
So I started saving so I could adopt her. 
My hope was that she would serve as a companion to me since FATMAN! works all day long and I still struggle with PTSD. 

In October, on my anniversary, Lucy became ours!
She has been an absolute blessing!
Every time I start having any kind of trouble, she comes over and lays next to me. 
If I don't immediately show her some attention, she forces herself onto my lap. 
Not only has she been a great companion and emotional support, the spirit she brings is calming as well. 
She's older so she mostly sleeps during the day, but she's always tentative and aware.

And the boys love her too. 

Every day I wonder what I did to be so blessed to have such an amazing spirit come and rescue me. 

To be Kind

I know people aren't perfect. 

I know people aren't perfect.

I know people are not perfect!!!

Do you understand that? Do you get it?

If not, please tell me how I can make you understand that I know people aren't perfect.

I am not perfect and I don't expect others to be perfect. 

I don't expect others to be perfect. 

I do not expect others to be perfect!

However, I do expect them to be KIND. 

The main reason why I don't like going to church is because people aren't KIND and loving.

In the Mormon church, we are taught from a very early age that we should be like Jesus. 

More specifically, we are taught to be kind to and love and accept everyone. 

So, why is it that some people who attend the Mormon church with feel like it is appropriate and okay to go up to someone and say mean, hurtful, and/or rude things about them to their face?

Or to speak up just loud enough for someone to hear when they are talking about that person behind their back?

Or to gossip about anyone at all, especially in the church to fellow church members about other church members?

Kindness is not earned. 

Kindness is expected of all of us. 

We should always be kind because you never know what the person you are talking to or about is going through. 

You don't know their battles, secret thoughts, struggles, etc. 

One mean comment could send them into a depression so deep they could end it all. 

One mean comment could be just the right trigger for suicide. 

One mean comment could be the last thing you say to that person because you just drove them away. 

I know we live in a world full of terror and awfulness. 

But we can change this world for the better with just being kind. 

Do one kind thing. 

Say one kind thing. 

Send a loving message to that one person you've been thinking about. 

All it takes is 30 seconds. 

And always remember: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all." (Bambi)

I don't expect anyone to be perfect. 

I do expect people to be kind, especially those who call themselves Christians.

You do not need to be perfect to be kind. 

A Blessing Amid Chaos

Baby Kickboxer has made his debut! He's about three weeks old and FATMAN! and I are absolutely in love with him. Though he has warmed up to a baby being in the house, Squid still doesn't fully know what to think about Kickboxer or being a big brother. 

But the way that Kickboxer made his debut is one for the books. If I hadn't been there and witnessed it myself, I wouldn't believe it happened like this. 

First, a little back story: My labor and delivery with the Squid was quite easy, typical, and had very little problems. I was able to labor through the contractions with breathing techniques and relaxing in the tub. I did not get an epidural (but I was asking for it at the end when it was too late). I had to have my waters broken by the doctor. Squid decided to start coming before I was fully dilated and I ended up pushing for two hours. I tore a little bit and needed 4 stitches. For it being my first labor and delivery, it was good and much better than I expected it to be. 

My labor and delivery with Kickboxer was completely different. It was hard. It was ugly. 
My water broke at 3 am when I rolled over in bed after FATMAN! bumped me when he rolled over. I immediately sat up getting my bed all wet and woke FATMAN! up then jumped to action to get everything together and ready to go to the hospital. As soon as the sitter arrived to stay with Squid until my parents arrived, FATMAN! and I were off. 

As soon as we got to my room and somewhat settled, I was told my water had indeed broken (they tested just to be sure) and that I was only dilated 1 cm. It was going to be a while before Kickboxer arrived. Both FATMAN! and I did our best to relax and rest while contractions started and progressed. By the time the nurses rotated 3 hours after we arrived, I was dilated to 3 cm and my contractions were all over the place.

My new nurse suggested I lay on my side to help move contractions along. So I did... and my contractions sure did come closer together, but they also became more and more intense as time passed. I did my best to manage the pain, but as time went on and my contractions became unbearable, I started to cry and started to ask for an epidural, which I had planned on not doing. After about an hour and a half of crying and asking but being torn with making a final decision, I gave in and told FATMAN! that I wanted an epidural. Which was perfect timing because my nurse had just come in to check on things again. I told the nurse my decision and after checking the progress (I was dilated to 5 cm), she went and got the anesthesiologist. He was super nice and quite funny. It took about 20 minutes for the epidural to start working, but once it kicked in and my pain started to subside, FATMAN! left to get lunch and I rested. Within an hour, I was starting to feel much better and fell asleep for about an hour. 

The next few hours were quite uneventful. FATMAN! and I sat and laid around watching TV and checked in with my parents who had come up to help with the Squid. Progression had slowed so I was put on oxytocin around 3:30-ish and I was rolled onto my side yet again. Nearing the end of labor, I started feeling pressure from my contractions and a kick here and there from Kickboxer, but other than that, nothing exciting happened. 

And then at about 5:20 (I honestly don't know, I'm guesstimating) I felt this odd feeling near my hip. The best way I can explain it is that it felt like a fluttery kick (when you first start feeling your baby moving around inside you at the beginning of pregnancy). I thought it was odd, but didn't think anything else about it. Then I felt the exact same thing a minute later.... then thirty seconds later. It was after that third time that I told FATMAN! to go get my nurse. Instead of doing what I said, he came to the other side of my bed to check on my contractions on the monitor. When he saw that nothing was wrong, he turned towards the door and saw a bulge under the sheet that wasn't quite right. He said something to the effect of "He's here" and ran out the door. I immediately threw back the sheet just in time to see Kickboxer's butt and legs emerge. At that sight I was overcome with many emotions: relief that it was finally over, happiness that I didn't have to push at all let alone two hours, fear because he was bluer than Squid when he was born and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his body (and the sheet didn't clear his head), and awe and wonderment (possibly a little shock). 

My nurse, the baby nurse, and an extra nurse all came rushing in with FATMAN! at the caboose. A fourth nurse went to the room next to mine to get my doctor (who didn't believe at first that I had delivered without his assistance) and he came in a minute later. While one nurse was taking care of Kickboxer and another one was taking care of me, my doctor, FATMAN!, and I were trying to figure out what had happened. My doctor has the theory that Kickboxer was in a bad position all during labor and then he finally rolled over and just slid right now. At the same time as we were discussing the miracle, I was waiting to hear my son cry. It must have only been about a minute, but it felt like forever to me. The nurse said that he had extra fluid in his passageways and that was what caused him to have a hard time breathing at first. Still the pediatrician put us on house arrest for a few days because of it. But as soon as he did cry, my fear subsided and I was so happy to know that my son was healthy. 

It's been an interesting and rough three weeks since then. Kids change everything. When one of those kids is a terrible two and the other is a newborn, hardly anything stays clean or gets done all at once, especially now that FATMAN! is back to his normal work schedule. I manage. Some days I go to bed tired and weary. Other days I go to bed exhausted because I've been up since before the sun with no break or rest. Some days I wonder why I even wanted children in the first place. And then Squid says the cutest thing and Kickboxer smiles while sleeping in my arms. It's the small things that make it worth all the crazy and stressful times. 

My Favorite Christmas Story

One more post before I sign off until the New Year.

I grew up reading and having this story read to me.

It is my most favorite story for this time of year.

It's simply titled

Teach the Children

I like to call it "Santa Teaches of Christmas"

Late one Christmas Eve, I sank back, tired but content, into my easy chair. The kids were in bed, the gifts were wrapped, the milk and cookies waited by the fireplace for Santa. As I sat back admiring the tree with its decorations, I couldn't help feeling that something important was missing. It wasn't long before the tiny twinkling tree lights lulled me to sleep.

I don't know how long I slept, but all of a sudden I knew that I wasn't alone. I opened my eyes, and you can imagine my surprise when I saw Santa Claus himself standing next to my Christmas tree. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot just as the poem described him, but he was not the "jolly old elf" of Christmas legend. The man who stood before me looked sad and disappointed, and there were tears in his eyes.

"Santa, what's wrong?" I asked, "Why are you crying?"

"It's the children," Santa replied sadly.

"But Santa, the children love you," I said.

"Oh, I know they love me, and they love the gifts I bring them," Santa said, "but the children of today seem to have somehow missed out on the true spirit of Christmas. It's not their fault. It's just that the adults, many of them not having been taught themselves, have forgotten to teach the children."

"Teach them what?" I asked.

Santa's kind old face became soft, more gentle. His eyes began to shine with something more than tears. He spoke softly. "Teach the children the true meaning of Christmas. Teach them that the part of Christmas we can see, hear, and touch is much more than meets the eye. Teach them the symbolism behind the customs and traditions of Christmas which we now observe. Teach them what it is they truly represent."

Santa reached into his bag and pulled out a tiny Christmas tree and set it on my mantle. "Teach them about the Christmas tree. Green is the second color of Christmas. The stately evergreen, with its unchanging color, represents the hope of eternal life in Jesus. Its needles point heavenward as a reminder that mankind's thoughts should turn heavenward as well."

Santa reached into his bag again and pulled out a shiny star and placed it at the top of the small tree. "The star was the heavenly sign of promise. God promised a Savior for the world and the star was the sign of the fulfillment of that promise on the night that Jesus Christ was born. Teach the children that God always fulfills His promises, and that wise men still seek Him."

"Red," said Santa, "is the first color of Christmas." He pulled forth a red ornament for the tiny tree. "Red is deep, intense, vivid. It is the color of the life-giving blood that flows through our veins. It is the symbol of God's greatest gift. Teach the children that Christ gave His life and shed His blood for them that they might have eternal life. When they see the color red, it should remind them of that most wonderful Gift."

Santa found a silver bell in his pack and placed it on the tree. "Just as lost sheep are guided to safety by the sound of the bell, it continues to ring today for all to be guided to the fold. Teach the children to follow the true Shepherd, who gave His life for the sheep."

Santa placed a candle on the mantle and lit it. The soft glow from its one tiny flame brightened the room. "The glow of the candle represents how people can show their thanks for the gift of God's Son that Christmas Eve long ago. Teach the children to follow in Christ's foot steps... to go about doing good. Teach them to let their light so shine before people that all may see it and glorify God. This is what is symbolized when the twinkling lights shine on the tree like hundreds of bright, shining candles, each of them representing one of God's precious children, their light shining for all to see."

Again Santa reached into his bag and this time he brought forth a tiny red and white striped cane. As he hung it on the tree he spoke softly. "The candy cane is a stick of hard white candy: white to symbolize the virgin birth and sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock the foundation of the church, and the firmness of God's promises. The candy cane is in the form of a 'J' to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth. It also represents the Good Shepherd's crook, which He uses to reach down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray. The original candy cane had three small red stripes, which are the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed, and a large red stripe that represents the shed blood of Jesus, so that we can have the promise of eternal life."

"Teach these things to the children."

Santa brought out a beautiful wreath made of fresh, fragrant greenery tied with a bright red bow. "The bow reminds us of the bond of perfection, which is love. The wreath embodies all the good things about Christmas for those with eyes to see and hearts to understand. It contains the colors of red and green and the heaven-turned needles of the evergreen. The bow tells the story of good will towards all and its color reminds us of Christ's sacrifice. Even its very shape is symbolic, representing eternity and the eternal nature of Christ's love. It is a circle, without beginning and without end. These are the things you must teach the children."

I asked, "But where does that leave you, Santa?"

The tears gone now from his eyes, a smile broke over Santa's face. "Why bless you, my dear," he laughed, "I'm only a symbol myself. I represent the spirit of family fun and the joy of giving and receiving. If the children are taught these other things, there is no danger that I'll ever be forgotten."

"I think I'm beginning to understand."

"That's why I came," said Santa. "You're an adult. If you don't teach the children these things, then who will?"

(Author Unknown)

Source: http://www.neloo.com/Christmas/Christmas1.html

My Favorite Part of this Time of the Year

This time of the year can be described as joyful, stressful, magical, happy, special, etc. 
There are many components: tree, ornaments, stockings, presents, wreaths, lights, etc.
And lets not forget all of the food: cookies, caramels, pies, popcorn balls, etc. 
All of those things are great and I love them, but my most favorite part about this year is giving. 

As much as I love to decorate, bake, wrap, and sing, I really, really love to give presents. I love picking out a special gift for each family member and friend on my shopping list. I love putting my time and thought into my shopping list and finding that one gift that is absolutely perfect and that I know the receive will love! For example: Last year I was looking ALL OVER for a gift for my dad and I couldn't find what I wanted to give him. But then I was at a store just browsing through their Christmas section and I found it. A dancing and singing hippopotamus. My dad absolutely loves the song (and history behind it) "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas," which is what the hippo sings and dances to. I thought it would be hilarious and more of a gag gift. Low and behold, it was his favorite gift that year and it still sits out where everyone can see it all year long. It's also the Squid's favorite gift last year too. 

As stressful and hard it is to find that perfect gift for each member of the family, I love it. I love seeing their faces when they open their gift and instantly fall in love with it. I love seeing the gift in use. I love seeing the joy each gift brings. Yes, I may have searched all over town (and maybe a couple more) to find the gift. It may have taken a few months of stressing, searching, and traveling to find it. I may have lost some hair over it. And yes, sometimes I fail and don't find that perfect gift, but I know that no matter what I give them, those who love me will love that I even thought about them during this time of year. 

I couldn't care less about what everyone gets me or how many gifts I get. I don't need a lot. I don't need the latest and greatest tech gadget. I don't need the latest movie. I don't need toys, lots of clothes, kitchen supplies, etc. I already have everything I may ever need. I do have desires and wants, but if I don't get them, it's not the end of the world. Christmas won't be ruined if I don't get that one item I've been yearning for all year or the one movie I saw this year that I don't already have. Christmas will be ruined if I can't give to those I love the most. Christmas will be ruined if I don't have a roof over my head, clothes to keep me warm, and food to keep me fed. Christmas will be ruined if I can't express my love through music, gifts, and time. Christmas will be ruined if there is no love during this time of year. 

That's the whole reason for the season! Jesus Christ was sent to this earth, atoned for our sins, suffered on Gethsemane, and was put up on the cross because he and our Heavenly Father love us. No one anywhere at any time would make the sacrifices they do if they didn't love anyone. God sacrificed his Only Begotten because He loves us. Jesus Christ stood up and said, "Send me," because he loves us. We may not feel their love all the time, especially when we are at our lowest, but I know that they do love us and they are constantly watching over us and blessing us with what we need. 

That being said, I challenge all of my readers to help someone in need this Christmas season. It's not too late. I participated in Jamberry's Black Friday Remix where a portion of the sales from that weekend went to Toys for Tots. Want to know how much we donated? $150,000! And I am very happy to say that I helped with that. So please give. Put your change in the bucket of the poor soul ringing the bell outside the store. Give a neighbor some help with shoveling the walks. Put an item into the Food Bank and Toys for Tots boxes. Whatever you can give, please give it.

Merry Christmas everyone! 

Make sure to tell the ones you love that you love them!

I love you all!