Answered Prayers

I was looking through some photos, trying to come up with ideas for new hair color. I knew Alyson had a picture of her super hot haircut and color. As I looked through photo after photo on Facebook, I came across several of me from long ago. When I was very thin. “Look at those arms,” I thought. “They’re so lovely. Look that that stomach. You can’t see that I have one! Look at my long neck.” Then I saw some more recent photos. I am unrecognizable. I’m so round and fat. There is just no other word for it. I am fat. I have been watching what I eat and I try to exercise regularly, but it’s a battle that I’m just not winning. I have lost weight since last year, but I am still not anywhere near close to where I would like to be to be comfortable with myself. I miss me. I don’t feel like me.

As I went to bed that night, I prayed. “Please, make me thin. Make me skinny. I just want to lose weight. I’ll continue to make good food choices and I’ll continue to exercise, but the only way it seems I can actually lose weight is if You make it happen. Please make me skinny. I don’t want anything else right now. I just want to be skinny. I know it’s shallow and selfish, but I want to be happy with myself and I am just not happy like this. Please, please, please make me lose weight.”

I woke up Sunday morning with a sore throat. I couldn’t swallow anything. All I could think of was, “Oh, so this is how it’s going down.”

I told Ches the entire story. He laughed at me and said, “Be careful what you pray for.”

God has such a sense of humor, doesn’t He?

Just Some Random Thoughts…

Yesterday I got to take Parker to the Sea Life Aquarium for his preschool field trip. The Sea Life Aquarium is located in the Arizona Mills Mall, a very large mall not far from where we used to live. It is now a good half hour drive from our current home. After the adventures of the Aquarium, I decided to take Parker to the food court so he could have some lunch and (hopefully) fall asleep in the van on the way home. Then we could both get a little nap in.

Being that it is a mall, there are kiosks. I am a sucker when the vendors at kiosks stop me to show me whatever cool product they are hawking selling. So I got stopped by the woman with an exotic accent who wanted to buff my nails until they were super shiny and pretty (no need for nail polish!), then show me her sea salt rubs and body butter.

First of all, yes, my nails are very pretty. We’ll see if it really lasts a month. However, I am NOT spending $60 for a kit just to buff my nails. Seriously? I’ll put on clear nail polish that costs $1.50 from Wal-Greens first.

Second, the accent? So fake. You can’t even decide if you’re supposed to be French, Israeli, or Brazilian. So it switches constantly. Yes, you sound exotic and it’s supposed to make me trust you more, but I know it’s fake. Everyone knows you don’t have that accent. Someone ought to really stop this practice.

Third, yes, in fact I did like the sea salt scrub and it does seem to be helping the massive eczema on the palms of my hands. However, there is no way I would ever pay $80 for it when I can hop over to Bath and Body Works and get the same size tub for $10. Do I really look that stupid to you? And just because it says it’s made in Israel does NOT mean it actually comes from the Dead Sea. I don’t care where the salt comes from, anyway. It’s salt.


I believe I have passed on my anxiety to my children. On the way to the school for the ceremony where Dallin received a certificate because he is a Cardinal of Character (he demonstrated the characteristic “fairness” in the classroom), all I could hear was bouncy Dallin saying, “I wonder what my award is. Will they call my name? Where will I sit? Will you all be in the audience? I hope you are in the audience. Do I get a paper? I can’t believe I get an award.” He repeated it constantly until the start of the ceremony.

He got a certificate and a t-shirt. The t-shirt says, “I’m a Cardinal of Character at Centennial Elementary.”

The whole way home he repeated, “I love my t-shirt. Do you have my certificate? I hope my t-shirt fits. I want to wear it tomorrow. Will my t-shirt fit me? It’s so cool.”

On the way to the Aquarium yesterday, Parker repeated, “Are we going on my field trip now? Are you driving fast enough? Can you drive faster? Is this the right way? Did you get lost? Are we closer yet? How much longer? Will I see fish? Are there sharks? Did you make a wrong turn? I don’t know if this is the right way. Can you go faster?” Seriously, repeated this the entire half hour.



Can someone please show me where in the Bible it actually says that Jesus said “If you deny me I will deny you to my FATHER”? I hate that stupid post on Facebook. If I don’t repost am I saying I am ashamed of Jesus and I don’t get to go to Heaven now? Whatever. Reposting these things that say, “Let’s see how many believers are on Facebook!” or “I believe in Jesus. Do you?” is just lame. I don’t need to flaunt my faith in the face of all Facebook to know that I have a testimony that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I feel like posting, “OMG!! I totally ❤ Jesus!! Repost this!” just to see what people will do. Stupid, but it’s the same thing to me.


I am in another “Biggest Loser” challenge. We’ve had two weigh ins and I have lost 5 lbs. I weigh in tomorrow. Hoping to have lost another 2 lbs this week. The best thing I’m doing for me this time is I have started using MyNetDiary, an online food diary. It helps me keep track of everything I’m eating, counts my calories, has a spot to enter how much exercise I do (and how many calories I have burned), and has handy dandy charts to help me know how much I should be consuming and burning each day in order to lose weight. It’s keeping me totally accountable and I love it. AND it’s free!!! I highly recommend it.


I’m lonely. I have tons of friends (you guys), but you are all too far away. Someone move here, please. Seriously.


My book club chose enough books to last us through July. I’m super excited about the books, and only one of them have I actually read before.

This month we are reading Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. It has been on my “to read” list for forever because people are constantly telling me to try it. The love it. So I am excited to read it for that reason. However, it’s Sci Fi. I don’t enjoy Sci Fi and I don’t enjoy Fantasy (as a general rule). I try, but I just can’t get into it. So I was telling a girl in the book club that I was excited about reading it, but I said off handedly, “I won’t like it.” She then started to lecture me about having an open mind and being positive and I have to try the book anyway… ugh. I didn’t mean that I’m closing down to it! I didn’t mean I wasn’t going to even try to read it! I am!! It’s just not my style of book and I have tried and tried in the past to read these types of books with no success. I just don’t like it. Geez. Again, I am excited to read the book because it sounds interesting and it comes so highly recommended. But if I don’t like it, then I don’t like it. That’s my opinion. That’s my taste. So there.


I love this weather. It’s been in the mid to upper 70’s all week. So beautiful! We take visitors, by the way. Any time. We have enough floor space for anyone who wants to partake in our sunshine.

Food, Glorious Food

You know what would be cool? If I had a personal chef. Yup. That’d be more than cool. More like awesome.

See, I love to eat. But I hate to cook. And I have very little imagination when it comes to deciding what to prepare. I am much happier letting someone else just make something and put it in front of me. I try new things that way, and I don’t have to think hard about whether or not I like it. I just eat it.

I also snack a lot. Well, not a lot because I don’t actually like the snack foods we keep around the house (goldfish crackers make me want to gag). The kids have plenty of snacks, but if I want a snack, I’ll dig around until I find a chocolate bar (more often just picking myself something up in the checkout lane at the grocery store) or eating a piece of bread. Yeah. Because snacking on bread is so super healthy. I pretty much like to snack on bad foods (chocolate, potato chips, ice cream, chocolate chips…)

If I had a chef, however, I wouldn’t snack as much because whatever food we have would be going towards a meal and I wouldn’t want to put out the chef by eating something he is going to use. That and I would know I have a super yummy meal coming up, so why snack on something and fill up on tortilla chips when something great is coming in a couple of hours?

I want to eat healthily, but with that whole lack of imagination thing, I get bored easily. If I had a personal chef, he would be in charge of making sure I’m getting the right amount of servings of everything and not too many calories and man oh man, would it ever taste good, too.

Yup. I need a personal chef. Why should movies stars get personal chefs and not band teacher wives??? Oh yeah. That whole money thing.

You know what would be cool? If I had a bajillion dollars. Yup. That’d be more than cool. That’d be awesome.


I have been walking late at night with my neighbor and friend, Kim. We go out almost every night, leaving between 9 and 10 pm (all depending on husbands’ work schedules, RS activities, soccer practices, etc.), and we average 3 to 6 miles a night. Kim decided to sign us up for a little Biggest Loser challenge. It’s 12 weeks long. I made my goal to lose 2 lbs a week. Because of the walking we’ve been doing, I lost 2.4 lbs the first week. WOOT!! I didn’t even change my diet or anything. That was JUST walking, my friends. So excited. I like this walking stuff.

Wednesday night, I got home from walking and had to finish up some laundry so Ches could wear clean pants to work in the morning. I was finishing up the load I needed, so by now it was about 1 am. I ran upstairs to get an empty basket, then came back downstairs to go to the laundry “room” (the garage). At the bottom of the stairs, someone left a wooden sword. I didn’t see it, stepped on it, and twisted my ankle. I fell to the ground, crying. I have never hurt my ankle like that!! The worst part was that no one was awake to check on me or give me any sympathy. So sad.

All day Thursday I was in a lot of pain. My ankle was a little swollen in the morning, but I didn’t think much of it. By afternoon, I was in even more pain, so I lay on the couch with an ice pack. Kim came over to pick up her daughter, who I’d been tending. I told her about my ankle, and when I took the ice pack off, I realized how much my ankle had swollen. It was huge. Bigger than a golf ball, yet smaller than a tennis ball. (I can’t think of anything to compare it to. Sorry.) There was no bruising, just the swelling in that spot. Kim offered to wrap my foot for me, and when she looked at my ankle, she said, “Ummm, I think this is broken.” Grrrr…

So I called the doctor’s office and made an appointment for Friday morning. Kim wouldn’t let me drive to the doctor (in case it was broken), so she drove me and watched Parker in the waiting room. The doctor said the same thing as Kim. Because there was no bruising and only swelling in the one spot, and because there was only pain where there was swelling, it was most likely a fracture. He sent me off with orders to get x-rays done. And he made me sit in a wheelchair out to the car. Kim had to go into the imaging place and have them bring out a wheelchair for me. Grrrr…

I don’t like wheelchairs. They feel silly and unnecessary. That’s just me, I know. I just don’t like them.

So we sat around in the imaging place for probably an hour before I got called back for my x-rays. That took all of ten minutes, and I was wheeled back out to Kim’s van. Kim took me to her house for lunch while we waited for the doctor to call back. With instructions. He had already given me the prescription for crutches (which I’m not spending money on unless I absolutely need to) and said I would probably have to come back in once he read the x-rays so they could set me in a splint or something. Grrrr…

Finally, about at almost 3 pm, the doctor’s assistant called and said there was no fracture, just swelling. It’s just a bad sprain (which is kind of weird since there was no bruising…) so my instructions were to stay off my feet until the swelling goes down and there is no pain. And it’s probably a good idea to go ahead and use the crutches. Well, I didn’t get the crutches.

I had it in my head that it will be a couple of days and I”ll be back to normal. Yeah. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday with my foot up and just trying to rest it. It’s still swollen. It’s still in pain. It’s going to take me a lot longer than a couple of days to fully heal. Or at least heal enough to function.

And the worst part? I can’t walk. Now to lose weight I’m actually going to have to diet. Grrrrr…

Running Away?

I have decided that I am now a runner.

This is a big deal. I hate running. I mean, I really, really hate running. Always have. I have bad knees (have had since I was 9 years old). I’m fat now, so I have hip problems. I get winded easily. I get migraines easily.

However, I’m tired of being so fat and being so winded and of just not feeling good about myself. I hear that you have to push to get past a certain point and then running is just enjoyable. I honestly think that’s just bull, but I’m willing to try. I’m not going out with the intention of running a marathon. I’m just trying to do something different that’s good for me and will make me a better person.

And yes, I want to be skinny again. I don’t know if this will do it (I understand I have to change my diet as well as exercise), but it can’t hurt, right?

Wait. Actually, it will hurt. Running hurts. I hate running. But I’m going to do it anyway. I have a plan for when I’m going to start (it’s going to be another month or two so it’ll be cool enough for me to run without me feeling like I’m going to die of heatstroke), and I have a time (Monday and Wednesday mornings while Parker is in preschool). Until I can start doing that, I’m walking at night with a friend, and that should help get me a bit more active again.

The thing about getting into shape and losing weight is that you have to be so completely invested in it. You have to be strict about your diet (and I’m not talking about a diet where you are denying yourself of anything. I’m talking about what food and the amount of food you actually put into your mouth. Not going on a diet, but your actual diet.) and you have to be strict about being active. I am so tired of hearing about how I should go to a gym x number of hours a week and do x number of hours of strength training and x number of cardio and have a personal trainer to make sure I’m getting everything… I can’t do that! 1) I don’t have that kind of money, and B) I don’t have that kind of time.

Running is free. There are sidewalks and paths all around where I live. I am lucky enough to live in a state that has such beautiful winters and I can be outside, running, during the day. I don’t have time with the raising of my kids and playing in an orchestra to go to the gym at night, and I’m not a morning person so I can’t go to the gym in the morning before Ches leaves at school (besides, marching band starts at 6 am. I would have to get up at a horrific time in the morning to go wherever I needed to go, workout, and get home in time for him to leave in time for school. So not happening!!). I have two kids in school all day and one in preschool all morning. I can take the time to work out then.

I have a good friend that is a nutritionist. I have already talked to her a bit, and she is going to help me be more accountable for what I’m eating. I want to do this the right way.

I will probably grumble and growl a lot. No, not probably. I will grumble and growl a lot. But once I start seeing results and I start feeling good about what I’m doing, perhaps that will change. I’ll let you know.

Most of all, wouldn’t it be great to be a good example for my kids. They need to see their mother take care of herself and be able to run and keep up with them. Yes, I want to be skinny, but even more I want to be a better mother. Taking care of myself physically is one of the best ways I can be better mother, right?

Grrr, Argh!

I got a bill today from Urgent Care. We had to take Dallin in a couple of months ago because he was climbing on the computer desk and fell. He hit his face and split his lip. It looked really wide and really deep, at least what I could see through all the blood gushing. So I took him to Urgent Care just in case he needed stitches or something.

They looked at him and said I did the right thing, but since the cut was inside his mouth and didn’t go all the way through there was really nothing they could do. It would heal on its own, and it would heal fairly quickly. By the time we got there, the bleeding had pretty much stopped and the wash cloth Dallin was carrying around had cleaned everything up pretty easily. Urgent Care didn’t even have to clean anything up to look at him. They didn’t even have to put a Band Aid on him. We went home and that’s the last we heard.

The other morning I got a phone call (at 8:30 am… really??) from the billing department. They wanted to know if I wanted to pay my bill. Ummm, what bill?? The said they had sent us several (no, they hadn’t) but would be willing to send us another one. Thank you, random billing person at 8:30 am who is asking for a verification of my son’s birth date and address.

So, like I said, I got the bill today. Before insurance the total is for $367.40. After insurance, I “get” to pay $187.

I freaked out. For what??? They didn’t even use any water to wash away blood to look at him! They did nothing but say “Eat popsicles and take Tylenol if there is any pain”.

Believe you me, I am asking for an itemized bill, and I am fighting it. I don’t mind paying for the visit. But considering all no one even touched my child, I do NOT think I should be charged that much. Please tell me I’m not totally crazy in this. I’m not, right???

Worry Wart

It’s probably nothing. They just want to double check, I’m sure. It’s good to get it checked and double checked, especially with our family history. I wish I had been told after the second set of scans and the second mammogram, however. I hate not knowing. It’s not even me. It’s my mom. I can’t think about any what ifs right now. Actually, I can think about them. That’s all I’m thinking about. Like I said, I wish I hadn’t been told that a second round was being ordered until after it was done. I can deal with whatever the results say. It’s the not knowing that is killing me.

In other news, I found out recently (before I heard from my mom, as a matter of fact) that my health insurance does not cover mammograms. I’m probably okay for another couple of years, but if I was at a higher risk, I would need to get one done now. With my family history, I have been recommended to get one now (I need to sit down with my doctor, however, and discuss). I don’t qualify for any of the free mammogram programs because I’m not over 40. It’s crazy. How does an insurance carrier NOT cover a mammogram??

Update: I just heard from my sister that Mom had the second set of mammograms and everything is just fine. I was right. Nothing to worry about. Even though I still worried.

“I’ll Be a Dentist…”

Every time I think of going to the dentist, I can’t help but think of the scene from “Little Shop of Horrors” where Audrey’s sadistic boyfriend sings about how he became a dentist. I know a lot of nice people are dentists, but I do not like the dentist. I do not the sound of the drills and cleaning stuff. It hurts my teeth to even hear it from another room. I have tried not to let my fear and dislike of the dentist’s office show to my children, but it hasn’t mattered because we do not (and have never had) dental insurance, so we have not been to the dentist in… well, too long.

A week ago, after Sunday dinner, I noticed Parker’s cheek was a bit swollen. I thought perhaps he fell or tripped and hit his face on something. It’s been known to happen in our family. A lot. However, Parker was crying a bit and kept touching his tooth inside that cheek. So I talked to him a bit and looked at the tooth. He had a tooth ache. Poor thing! Parker has some pretty bad teeth. Just luck of the draw for some kids. No matter how well you actually take care of them, some kids (or adults, too) just have bad teeth. This particular tooth looked like it was completely rotted out. I had Ches call a guy we go to church with who is a dentist and who just bought his own practice. I wanted him to get the number of the practice so I could call and make an appointment in the morning. I realized that Parker’s cheek was swelling even more.

Parker was miserable all night and when he woke up in the morning it looked like he had a grapefruit stuck in his cheek. I had been giving him Tylenol for the pain, and I called the dentist’s office first thing in the morning. By the time he saw the dentist that afternoon (and I was able to look in Parker’s mouth again and see a huge sore on his gums next to the tooth he had been complaining about), Parker’s little face was ballooned out completely on the one side. Under and to the side of his eye, even. The dentist gave us a prescription for Amoxacillin and said to give him lots and lots of Ibuprofen for a couple of days to make the swelling go down. He scheduled Parker to come in the following Friday (two days ago) to have that tooth pulled, another tooth worked on (it’s not as bad as the first so they think they can save it, but it’s pretty bad still) and figure out when to do fillings on three front teeth.

The biggest obstacle is that Parker is only 3. The dentist explained that three year olds can’t really tell the difference between pain and pressure, and having a tooth pulled is a lot of pressure. Scott (the dentist) said he is quick, but he’d prefer to have Parker sedated just to get it all done and make it all easier. However, since we didn’t have insurance, I was worried about the cost. As much as I don’t want my son tortured, we can’t afford sedation. So they would give him the gas stuff (which I, personally, loved when I had my wisdom teeth pulled — all four at once, thank you very much, without being unconscious!) and I would get to help the assistant hold Parker down while the work was being done. Scott questioned if I would be able to handle it (it’s really really hard for moms to see their babies cry that much!), but I just didn’t feel like we had a choice.

We went to the pharmacy and went home. Within 12 hours the swelling was almost gone and Parker was having very little pain. Within 36 hours, the swelling was completely gone and Parker had no pain at all. I was pleased.

Friday morning, as I was taking Dallin to preschool, the dentist’s office called and said “We’re done with our patients, so if you want to bring Parker in now, that would be great!” So I made arrangements for Dallin, took a shower, and drove to the dentist’s.

Parker was given the blue bib thingy and he sat in the chair. The assistant prepared the tools, and showed Parker the sucker and let him touch it and kind of play with it for a minute. Scott came in to talk to us a couple of times, and Parker seemed to be getting comfortable in the chair. Unfortunately, the office had just gotten a new machine for the gas that morning, and it had a small leak. One of the dental assistants is pregnant, and Scott didn’t want her exposed to it. Don’t blame him for that one! Anyway, Scott took the machine outside to tighten it or whatever, and more gas came out. The leak got worse! So they were trying to get ahold of the company to come and replace it. (I heard them talking, and apparently the company said “That’s not our problem!” to which Scott replied, “It was all working fine until your guys touched it. It IS your problem!”)

So we rescheduled for Monday. A full week after we first saw the dentist, but that’s okay. Some people from church heard what was going on (I talk. And I posted stuff on Facebook!) and my friend Kim’s husband misunderstood the deal with the anesthesiology and thought Parker was getting nothing. He talked to a member of the bishopric, and they were very, very worried. The bishopric member called Scott and found out what was going on. He also mentioned another dentist (that neither Scott nor I know) who used to be in the same ward who would do the sedation for Parker and Scott could do the dental work. Scott was going to call that dentist and see what arrangements could be made for that because then we could get all the dental work done in one shot with very little stress for Parker (and a lot less stress for me).

And that’s where we sit right now. As far as I know right now, I’m taking Parker in tomorrow afternoon and going with the original plan of Happy Gas (that’s what I call it) and me holding him, but I may just get another phone call tomorrow and that could change again. Phew. And now you all know the whole story. Moral of the story? Take your kid to the dentist, even if you don’t have dental insurance. And trust your gut (if we had let that swelling get worse, the infection was headed toward a sinus where it then has access to the brain and that is just scary).

Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts. Keep them up! I will keep you all updated.

At Least This Time It’s Not Mental

My head hurts today. I’m having a headache where it feels like a million forks and knives stabbing into my brain. It feels like my brain is bursting and being squeezed into place in my skull. It doesn’t like being squeezed into place. It wants freedom! If I turn my head or bounce too much when I walk, another fork stabs at me. If someone makes the wrong sound or if the light turns on, add some more forks. All I want is to find a pitch black, cool, quiet room so I can sleep it off. If there is any noise, any light, or is even slightly too warm, my head just gets worse. I don’t have a pitch black, cool, quiet room. I don’t have anyone to even watch the kids while I sleep it off. So guess what I do in times like this? Suck it up and try not to move too much. And get off the computer for a few minutes.