A Hopeful Road to Recovery

This blog post is an opportunity to debrief.  I'm one of those people who don't feel settled inside until I've really thought situations frontwards and backwards and so I'm still trying to accept my last two years of womanhood as it relates to motherhood through writing.  People who read my blogpost about Adelaide's birth from almost 2 years ago (Trauma), may remember the difficulties that I had when birthing her. I did a really good job of explaining how terrible her birth was, but what I've not been able to do is explain the recovery.  It's totally understandable why I've had a hard time explaining it, I literally did not have the vocabulary to do so, but I do now.

Since getting pregnant with Lennox, I've gotten connected with really great professionals in the health industry, who have really encouraged me to get on a good path to recovery before I started labor with him.  I have my mid-wife, my doula (who is also a midwife and a psychotherapist, specializing in women with traumatic birthing experiences), another doula, a Craniosacral Therapist, and now that Lenny is born, a homeopathic nurse practitioner, and a great lactation specialist.

Before reading this next paragraph it's important for you to understand that what I'm about to say is really hard to admit and to people I have told this to have not reacted as well as intended.  But truthfully I don't really know what I want people to say.  I don't even know if I'll publish this post.

I have a real condition that's hard to explain, and even harder to get people to understand, because it's a mental illness, and people without mental illness experience do not understand issues of the mind.  It took me a long time to wrap my head around, and in a lot of ways I still am.  I've not been exposed to a lot of conversations regarding mental issues, it's not something that ever crossed my mind that I would have to deal with, but here I am.  I have what is called Post Natal PTSD from Adelaide's birth 2 years ago.  It's not the same as Postpartum Depression, and cannot be drugged into going away.  I literally have to do the work to be better, which is exhausting.  It's exhausting for everybody in our family.  I am also not trained in combat.  I mention that because when people hear PTSD, their first thought is often that I might revert to a war type situation, but I don't.  I have never been a danger to myself or my children, and I'm lucky because although I'm not trained in combat, people who have Post Natal PTSD, sometimes are a threat.  That's not what it's like in my case.  There is no denying it though, I have every symptom of Postnatal PTSD, right down the list.

Reliving the Event.  After Adelaide was born, I would wake up in the middle of the night, finding myself reliving the event, trying to push her out. Which is especially weird because I never reached active labor with Adelaide.  I now think that the brain is brilliant, but at the time, I would be terrified and mortified that I would come to reality with my husband just staring at me and a bassinet with an already birthed and cleaned baby by my side.  What was happening is that my brain was trying to rectify the memory so that I could move past it.  I thank God that he gave me such an amazing brain, that my brain has been totally unsatisfied with my birthing experience too, just like every bit of my being, and is trying to fix it.  The problem is that, when I have a memory, I don't just have a memory, I relive it.  My brain has been in unrest, and that's exhausting.  It actually happened again, a couple months ago or so.  It wasn't during the night though, it was the middle of the day, and I was in my kitchen but I thought I was at U of M, and I was re-living a portion of the event.  And then it happened a couple days ago, while nursing my son.  

Fear of Childbirth.  Women with Postnatal PTSD often feel torn between wanting more children and a fear of having to birth again.  I am one of them.  Until I got pregnant again, I thought that Adelaide would be an only child, and I was just starting to come to terms with it.  Of course, I think Adelaide is perfect in every way, and I would like 10 more of her, if I didn't have to birth again, but once becoming pregnant, I knew that I'd have to do it, and so I went to the support groups and the workshops and I did get through it.  Although, I wouldn't want to do this a third time.

Avoidance of Medical Procedures or Healthcare. That's me.  I've always leaned more holistic anyway, but now, I'd rather see someone with healing crystals then ever sit on a crinkly paper in a doctor's office ever again, let alone be back at U of M in Labor and Delivery.

Problems Bonding with Baby.  I didn't feel a connection to Adelaide right away, and I couldn't breastfeed.  I really wasn't sure if she was mine.  Having had her cesarean, I didn't actually see her birthed or feel her birthed and I was so sick once she was born, I was unable to spend those first couple hours with her.  Somehow I took her home and did a good job taking care of her, I felt a real responsibility to do it, as if I was the world's best babysitter, but I didn't feel maternal to her right away....that's come with time.  And apparently, this is all really normal for people with Postnatal PTSD--mother's cannot breastfeed, the milk just doesn't come in.  Regardless, it was exhausting listening to people say, just keep trying, as if I just wasn't doing it right.  I pumped, and I tried to breastfeed and it was incredibly disappointing as it just wouldn't work.      

Postnatal Isolation.  After getting pregnant this time, I immediately felt a fear to birth again, and a total inability to be able to do so.  I tried explaining it to people right away, but being that people could not relate to the total fear of birthing, their responses sounded like this, "you're focusing on the birth...look at the baby that you have, she's great!"  Responses like this made me feel detached from other mothers, and like I'm not strong enough to be a mother at all. It's led to depression.  I don't feel depressed all the time, just depressed about her birth: it's a situational type of depression.  People have tried saying to me, "you just have to move on," or "pray about it."  As if I've been trying to hold myself back, as if I haven't begged God to make this easier.  For most women, birthing was great because there was a baby at the end.  My brain does not connect how great Ada makes me feel, with how terrible the thought of birthing makes me feel.  They are two totally different aspects of my life.  To expound on that further, it feels as if I had a trauma, and then a couple hours later, someone gave me a baby: like they are not connected activities. So then, weeks leading up to Lenny's birth, people would ask me, "are you excited to have a baby?"  I think I've looked surprised and mortified each time, because, NO, I'm not excited to have a baby.  I felt like I'm gearing up for a trauma that's going to ruin me for the next couple of years...oh, and someone's going to give me a beautiful, wonderful baby which I'm going to learn to love, making it harder to take care of myself.

Additional Fears.  Just after Ada was born I was afraid to drive, afraid to leave the home, afraid to be by myself, afraid to stop the pain killers, afraid, afraid, afraid.  It's obvious that whether or not I was dying, when I was laboring, I thought I was, and I didn't feel ready.  I always thought that I would be able to accept death if ever faced with it, but in the situation I wasn't ready.  Once leaving the hospital I realized to a much deeper level how uncertain life is, making me afraid, really, really afraid.

Then besides the PTSD, there was a year of just poor health.  I had low thyroid function for an entire year.  It left me sluggish and unable to lose the weight I had put on during pregnancy, and feeling yucky about myself.  There was the prescription drugs, the scars, the bruises, and the swelling.  I even had an allergic reaction to antibiotics that left all food tasting rancid for at least a week after Adelaide was born.

Lastly, Adelaide had some problems too.  She had multiple ribs out of place and her jaw wasn't aligned making her unable to get a deep suction for feeding.  We were able to get that all fixed, but it was still tough until we found the right professional to work on her.

I write all this because I need to explain why Lenny's birth appears to be so healing for me, however there have still been bumps in the road.  But these bumps have felt like ant hills opposed to the massive mountains that I had to climb with Ada.

June 28th, 2015, my water broke about 2pm.  I called Triage and they asked if the I could feel Lenny moving at all.  I couldn't, but that wasn't weird because I never felt Lenny move.  They encouraged me to drink something sugary and lay on my left side to get him moving.  It really wasn't working great, so we headed up to U of M about 5pm.  They have me a 12 hour window from when my water broke to get into labor.  At this point, they were able to monitor contractions, but I could not feel them, which means that I was probably not dilated and if I was, it wasn't very much.

So 2am on June 29th would be 12 hours from when my water broke and if I couldn't get into labor before then, they would start talking pitocin...the dreaded pitocin which poisoned me in Adelaide's birth and caused my Kidneys to start shutting down, gave me such extreme edema, and ended in an unexpected cesarean birth.

Because the hospital had already reserved a room for us at 2am, we just checked in immediately rather then going home and as it turns out that it was a good thing because Lenny's birth turned out to be fast and furious.  We rested in front of the TV, had a good dinner, I did some stretches and about 11pm I had a serious contraction.  It really felt like it came out of nowhere too.  I waited till I had another, it was about 4 minutes later.  Wow!  These are close right from the get-go.  I didn't think much of it because we were in the hospital, but once the nurse came in to ask if I had any progression, which was coincidentally a few minutes later, I told her.  She called the midwife in to come talk to me and they suggested I start antibiotics because my water was broken for quite a while at this point and they like to start antibiotics 4+ hours before a birth if you're positive for carrying a virus, which I was.  Lenny was born only 2 hours later so we ended up having to stay 48 hours at the hospital for observation, but that was fine with me because 24 hours just seems like not enough before being discharged.

Anyway, I called my doula just after I told the midwife about my close contractions.  Unfortunatly, she was in another birth, and so was her business partner, which meant that they had to call-in a doula from a backup organization, and coincidentally I ended up knowing her from a trauma workshop, which made me scared to use her, but in the end it couldn't have worked out better, because I had instant repoirt with her.  So my backup doula arrived at midnight and this is the first time that I let them check to see my progression.  Because I had an infection with Adelaide I was really cautious about how often I got checked this time around.  I was 3cm, 100% effaced and the baby was at 0 station.  I was super disappointed to be at 3cm, because I had just labored for an hour and it was so painful.  I really didn't know if I could do that all night.  Did I mention I went all natural...no drugs.  I wasn't opposed to drugs completely, in fact I was considering morphine a couple hours before I would actually give birth in order to have the stamina for pushing, but I never got to that either.

Right after they checked me, I decided to labor in a tub.  It was so nice!  It was warm, and it helps suspend gravity so the contractions were just a little bit more livable.  About 1:30am or something like that, I decided it was time for morphine, but the minute I got out of that warm tub it was go-time.  I started pushing, barely making it to the bed.  Although I instinctually knew it was go-time, I didn't put it together that they weren't going to give me drugs.  My doula asked me if I wanted to get off my back, because it's a harder way to deliver on your back, but I declined because I was still in the mindset that I wasn't delivering just yet.  When I finally realized I wasn't getting morphine, I got on my side, 3 pushes and Lenny was out at 1:39pm.  Like I said fast and furious.

It worked out good that the birth was fast and totally different this time around because there was no time for triggers of PTSD to even happen, although I was totally prepared.  I had worked really hard with my doula on a birth plan that made sense in my situation.  We tried to remove all possibilities of triggers to happen, although you cannot predict them all, and so we came up with language and tricks to help bring me back to reality if necessary.  When the backup doula arrived, knowing so well my situation, she read through the birth plan once and was up to speed just as quickly as my original doula was.  She really did great.

Since arriving home, I was breastfeeding Lenny as intended, but this is an area that I didn't do enough preparation in to terms of PTSD.  I didn't expect Lenny to have similar mechanical problems in his mouth as Ada did.  I was able to recognize the signs quickly and get him the help that he needed, but regardless it left me sad and resurfacing experiences with Ada that brought on a bit of depression when I had to take a break from breastfeeding.  I really wasn't willing to pump in the meantime because that was one of the most devestating experiences of my life just 2 years prior, and so I flirted with breastfeeding behaviors that were were likely to bring on mastitis and of course I contracted it.  I knew it was a risk I was taking, but it was the best decision for my health at the moment, although now I'm in a rough spot with a fever and total body weakness.  I was bed-ridden for a couple days but today I'm more mobile after increasing my Motrin intake.  I'm also sore, as I've decided to let my milk dry up and go to formula, which is not an easy decision in our culture, but I believe that it'll leave me healthier and able to be a better momma to my kids then I would be if I was still trying to breastfeed.

After all said and done so far in Lenny's short 12 day life, I feel like I'm on a road to recovery that I didn't know if I'd ever see.  It's still soon though and so I don't have my hopes up too much but I'm trying to remain hopeful because I believe that that's also good medicine.  Perhaps I'll find I haven't traveled very far at all, but I have to believe that at least I've moved a little bit.  So far, this is my road to recovery and the beginning of what will be many hours, days and weeks of debrief.

it is what it is.

Trauma

So, recently I went through a trauma.  I'm pretty sure it can be categorized as a trauma because I cry about it every day, and have for 4 weeks.  It was the birth of my daughter, Adelaide.

Adelaide is a beautiful little girl.  She's really healthy and very sweet.  However, her entrance into this world was not.  In fact, I'm haunted by it.

During pregnancy I was super encouraged by the stories that I heard from mothers.  Stories about feeling a really strong connection to their offspring-an indescribable love.  Stories about euphoria after pushing for hours.  These stories told me that labor was going to be hard, but would leave me with the notion that healing would be fast because I'd be so distracted by the beauty of my little one and in awe of her creation and entrance into our world.

None of those things happened to me.  In fact, it was awful.

Now, I don't want to sound overly dramatic.  And my intention is not to scare people who have not had children.  My only purpose in writing this is to help myself heal and to educate women.  I fear, that like me, other women may be confused about the realities of childbearing.

You're probably thinking, "let's hear the story already!" Ok.  Here goes.

I went into the hospital, 13 days overdue.  I felt like I had been pregnant forever, however I was surprisingly not that uncomfortable.  I had heard of women with incredible waddles.  I did not have that.  In fact, just a couple days prior, I went shopping, and a women commented how big I was, but how I was able to walk with such ease.  That should have been a clue to me, that my baby was not in position.  But, being that it is my only child, I really didn't feel confident about anything.

Anyway, I'm at the hospital, with an appointment to be induced.  After 41 weeks of pregnancy, healthcare providers fear that the placenta will start to break down and be unable to nourish the baby.  After 42 weeks, there is a fear that the baby will start to have a growth spurt and a natural delivery will become too problematic.  At 13 days over due, I am 41 weeks and 6 days.

To begin induction, I was administerd Petocin.  Petocin is a hormone that begins contractions.  Real contractions.  Hard contractions.  They hurt.

Now, I had a doula with me, and she is also a massage therapist, and for the first day, her services were brilliant.  But, after 24 hours, I was still having contractions, but hadn't dilated a single centimeter more, and had nothing but back labor.  For those of you who don't know, back labor indicates that the baby is not in a great position.  The other thing about back labor is that it is far more uncomfortable that contractions in the abdominal region.  For years, my period cramps were conditioning me to be able to take the pain of labor.  Nothing prepared me for back labor.

My doula was able to really help with the pain in the beginning hours, but after a while, my back felt bruised.  It hurt to be touched.  In fact, it hurt to sit.  Back labor is both in the lower back and buttocks region.  I tried to labor in a tub, I tried to labor in a bed, I tried to labor on a birthing ball, but I was wearing down.  At this point, my discomfort was so high that I did something I never thought I would...I asked for drugs.

I had planned to have a natural labor, but I was so, so tired.  I took morphine.  I liked it.  I slept.

Then, after waking up, I asked for more.  I took more morphine.  I liked it.

I'm now at 48 hours of labor, and this is where it starts to become somewhat of a blur.  I know that at some point my water was broken for me to get me dialated more.  I know that at some point I got an epidural because the continuance of morphine was not a good idea.  I know that at some point I swelled so bad that blisters started to appear, and talk of pulmonary edema became concerning.  I know that I was on oxygen.  I know that my kidneys shut down and I was holding onto more fluid than what was safe.  I know that I had my membranes stripped again.  I know that my uterus stopped contracting at 9cm.  I know that I felt an urge to push, but that it wasn't time.  I know that my heart rate and blood pressure were unsafe, but I can't remember in what order these things happened.

I do remember the look on the nurses faces when they looked at my monitors.  I do remember how often medical professionals were in my room.  I do remember seeing the look of my mom and sister as they massaged me and wiped the sweat off of me, and attempted to fix my hair.  I remember the look of concern on my dad's face.  I was unable to get up, and unable to see myself in any mirror.  But from the way I felt and the way their faces looked, I know the sight was concerning.

It was after 68 hours of labor, than an OB came to talk to me about a c-section.  At this point, I was so tired and was so ready to move forward that I agreed.

Now, a c-secion was really something that I never truly considered.  I always assumed, I'd have a normal delivery that would end in an indescribable love for my child and a total euphoria, after labor and pushing.  I knew nothing about the procedure nor the recovery.

C-sections are scary.  Being wheeled into the OR is scary.  Having many medical professionals running around, trying to work within a certain amount of time is scary.  Being awake for surgery is scary.  Being an inactive participant in the birth of a child is scary.

No one told me that the anesthesia would make me vomit.  No one told me that the anesthesia would make me shiver uncontrollably.  No one told me that C-sections are an aggressive procedure that would leave my abdomen bruised.  No one told me that I'd feel an uncomfortable amount of pressure, although I could feel no pain.  No one told me that my baby might have to be pushed back up the birth canal in order to get her out through an incision.  No one told me that I wouldn't be able to feel my abdomen for months, maybe even years afterword, as the nerves re-fuse back together.

I lost a lot of blood during surgery.  I know at one point, a blood transfusion was considered.  I also got a uterine infection and had a temperature of 103 degrees.  I was sick.  These details add to the trauma but the real kicker is that when Adelaide was born, I was relieved to hear her cry because she was out, but then I was angry.  So angry.  More angry then I have ever been in my life.

I was angry about my birthing experience.  I was angry that I didn't have that euphoria.  Angry that I labored so long for nothing.  Angry, angry, angry.

I yelled at a doctor.  I yelled at a nurse.  I hated my post op nurse for no apparent reason.  I was just so angry at the world.

I thought my family looked concerned before I entered surgery.  Nothing compares to their faces when they saw me after surgery.  I must have looked horrible.  I distinctly remember, my dad seeing me for the first time.  He was holding Adelaide, but when he looked at me, he put Adelaide down and said, "I'm uncomfortable."  I know that he wasn't uncomfortable with Adelaide, he was totally uncomfortable with the sight of me.  I must have looked really concerning.  My mom stayed at the hospital with me that night.  In fact, she stayed three nights total.  My sister finally told me yesterday, that she'll never forget how I looked.

I couldn't hold Adelaide when she was born because I was too weak.  Thank goodness, for Matt.  He never let her out of his arms.  He comforted her and made her feel loved because I couldn't.

I tried to breastfeed.  Adelaide couldn't latch.  I started to feel less and less like her mother.

For two weeks, I felt less and less like her mother.  Nothing was going well.  Not even when we got home.  I felt like my body fought hers from the moment we started induction.  I was getting sadder and sadder.  Postpartum wellness became a real concern of mine and my healthcare providers.  Not to mention, Adelaide was starting to appear colicky.

My midwives were very concerned.  They called me at home.  They had me come in weekly, and thank God they did.  I got some really good care.

One of the midwives noticed that Adelaide seemed to have an extremely insufficient suckle and recommended a homeopathic cranial specialist.  We found that Adelaide's jaw was not in the correct place, something that is very common amongst babies born cesarean.  We also found out that Adelaide had ribs out of place from having such a rough cesarean birth.  Both of those things got fixed in her third week of life outside of the womb and she began to cry less.  Matt and I no longer thought that we had a colicky baby and started to enjoy her more.

When I got home, I tried breastfeeding, and immediately Adelaide was able to latch.  It was amazing.  Truly amazing.  Our bodies were no longer fighting each other and I was enjoying her more.  I started to feel like her mother and for the first time I cried out of happiness.

I also saw a real professional lactation specialist.  A real professional.  She gave me great advice.  She encouraged me to re-assess my goals.  By this point, I've been so out of the habit of breastfeeding her.  My milk supply is low, and because I'm still healing from major surgery, it may never increase.  The amount of work that I'd have to do to increase it, would be quite disruptive to how Matt and I see as conducive for our lifestyle.  Both the lactation specialist and I know that breast milk is the best thing for my baby, but we also know that lifestyle is important.  She has really encouraged me to continue to formula feed and just have nice experiences with Adelaide at my breast afterword.  She can have breast milk for dessert or just doze off skin to skin.  And with this technique, again, I've started to feel more and more like her mother.  I really enjoy my baby this way, and she enjoys me.

I know that Adelaide knows I'm her mother now, because she follows me with her eyes as I walk and talk about the room.  She calms down with me, like no body else.  She smiles the most with me.  I'm just so happy that we got to this point, however I'm saddened that there was a whole two week period that it wasn't like that.

Still, I often feel incision pain and I'm reminded of her birth.  Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking that it's time to push my baby out; I so badly wanted to do that.  I don't like to look at my scar, and when I get emotional about her birth, the incision hurts more.  I hate my birthing story.  I wanted it to be beautiful.  I feel like I was robbed of what could be a really beautiful story.  I can't wait till the day that I don't cry when I think about it.

Again, I tell my story to help me move on, but also it's important that women know.  It's important that people understand that when Adelaide was born, I wasn't a good mother because I wasn't a healthy person.  I don't need more stress and pressure to breastfeed.  Moms who fail at breastfeeding feel bad enough.  I don't need to feel judged that my child uses a pacifier, I'm just so thankful that she can suck on it now.  I don't need to feel bad that she falls asleep hearing my heartbeat every time she goes down; we're catching up because there were two whole weeks were she didn't have nice experiences with me and I didn't with her.  I need people to shut up.  I need people to understand that I'm doing the best that I can, and that I had a lot of catching up to do before I was of any use to my little Adelaide.  There were two weeks that were extremely tough, and didn't get easier, fast.

I've learned a lot though.  I've learned that I'm not as strong as I thought, but also I'm a lot stronger than I thought.  I learned, on a much deeper level, that medicine can have extreme trade-offs.  I learned that my husband can really stand up and be the most amazing support person, and make tough calls, and stick to his guns.  I learned that I'm no good to anybody if I'm unhealthy.  And, I learned to lean more on others.  

My birthing experience, I'll have to make peace with it eventually.  For the meantime, keep me in your prayers because for now, I'm still haunted by it.

It is what it is.

My New Life Goal

The older I get, the more it becomes apparent to me, that I have very little control over anything.  I am in charge of me, half of the way my house is run, and a good portion of what I do in my classroom with my students.  I can try to make a difference in the world, but I can't make all of my causes everybody else's.  I feel like this is a real epiphany for me.

So, I have a new life goal.  My job as a purposeful being on this earth is to influence people by how I run myself, my half of my home, and my classroom.  My goal isn't on others, it's on doing it for me and hopefully inspiring others along the way.

My new life goal: it is what it is.

Creative Solutions

This is what I’d like to say to all parents who plan for their children to be doctors and engineers, and want them to excel mathematically, but don’t realize the importance of creativity in their child’s life:

I went into teaching art because I believe that creativity is really important.  I believe it is as important as literacy and should be treated with the same respect. 

Ken Robinson, a leading expert in Creativity, reminds us that children starting kindergarten this year will graduate high school in 2025, and we have no idea what 2025 will look like.  Essentially, we’re educating children for a future that we may never see and cannot predict. 

Think about how much the world has changed since you were a kid.  Well, innovation hasn’t exactly slowed down since then either.  In fact, innovation is as important as ever.  Jonah Lehrer, another leading expert in Creativity, and the author of the bestseller book, Imagine, defines creativity as taking two things that existed before and connecting them in an entirely new way.  That’s what innovation and engineering is.  You may have been told that math and science does not coincide with the arts, but someone lied to you.  It all coincides because creativity is all about the process of imagining what didn’t exist previously and that term is not strictly adhered to the arts.

Ken Robinson also says, “if a person is not prepared to be wrong, they’ll never do anything great”.  That is profound in that a person cannot look at something that doesn’t work and not want to fix it.  We were born to be creative and if we don’t nurture children’s creativity, we’ll educate it right out of them.  The world does not need another Albert Einstein, we already have E-mc^2…we need someone new. 

You may have noticed that more people are getting college degrees than ever before. It’s no secret that jobs that once required a Bachelor’s Degree now require a Master’s.  And jobs that once required a Master’s Degree require a doctorate.  It’s a process of academic inflation.  Pretty soon, it won’t just matter how much academic ability one has, it’ll also equally depend on performance.  Our children will have to show product before he or she enters their desired field.  Employers will want to know, does this person have product to prove their skills?  A degree may get an interview scheduled, but it’ll be the portfolio that lands a job.

All day long, children have to show product at school; I would like to argue, that more of the time, the things that should be most valued in your child’s day is what is product of his or her imagination.  If there were only one thing for certain in education, it would be that when school and home are teaching the same valuable lesson to kids, learning is greatly more visible.  So, here are skills that will help your child be people who can produce product.  It’d be worth trying to get your child’s teachers on board, if they aren’t already.

While you are with your child, assess how much of your child’s activities encompass a playful attitude?  Does your child have adequate time to be silly?  Are you silly with your child?  Do you joke?  Do you laugh at your mistakes?  Do you take risks?  Are you prepared to be wrong?  15 minutes a day to be silly with your kid and model these skills (yes, skills) will make all the difference in your child’s education.  These skills prepare a child to take risks, without the fear of failure before he or she even commences, a necessary component of being a creative person.

Do you value your child’s interests?  A parent once asked me, “How can I make my child enjoy playing the piano?”  Well, it’s pretty hard to make a person like anything.  We can expose kids to the things that we are interested in and/or think is important for their lives, but heart goes a long way.  This is not to say that parents shouldn’t enforce things that children don’t like, just make sure that their voice is heard and that it matters.  This will look different in every house.

How about confidence?  Does your child possess it?  One of the best ways to help your child in this area is to ask your child, “what do you think?”  Being a confident person means having the strength to think for one’s self.  “Mom, should I brush my teeth, now?”  Respond with, “What do you think?”  The answer, may of course be yes, but give your child the chance to think for themselves rather than relying on you to make all judgment calls.  In creativity, it is judgment rather than rules that prevail.

And now, here is the most important question that I have.  How much down time does your child have?  You see, every creative journey begins with a problem.  Frustration is an important part of the creative process.  But, no one ever talks about that part.  People tend to say things, like “creativity comes easy to others; I’m just not a creative person.”  Have you ever thought like that?  If you have, then I have news for you; it’s not that you aren’t naturally creative, it’s that you gave up when it got too hard, or you didn’t have the time and energy to work it out.  Essentially, for whatever reason, you didn’t wrestle long enough with the problem, in order to find a creative solution.

Problem solving can wear a person down.  That’s when it’s best to take a break.  So after a long day of school or on the weekends, what is it that you still expect of your child?  It could be that after a day or week of utilizing his or her imagination to it’s fullest, rest and play is just what is needed.  Rest and play rejuvenates the creative spirit, often leading to the ah-ha moments.  You know, that moment when the light bulb goes on, and when all the information comes together and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner?

The hardest part about helping your child with this, is giving him or her adequate rest, but also not letting him or her give up, and making sure that your child has appropriate roles and responsibilities around the house at the same time.  The best thing that you can do, is recognize your child’s stress, help your child cope, and then eventually come back to the problem that needs to be solved--whether it deserves a creative solution or not.  It takes balance and it’s no easy feat…so, good luck!

With all of that being said, I wish that all parents could find time to work together with their child’s teacher to be their child’s cheerleader for furthering his or her creative spirit.  It'd be worth it.

It is what it is.

    

Faith

So far, this year has turned out to be pretty great for Matt and I. We are 5 days into the new year, by the lunar calendar that is, and we landed ourselves jobs, starting in the 2012 school year. Kuwait or Bust!!! Just kidding, but really, that is where our offer is. Now, we have not signed contracts yet, and I have another interview lined up, and possibly more, but this signifies to us that there is the promise of employment after Beijing. The thought of not having work lined up was starting to scare us. We'd rather work "almost" anywhere, than not at all.

I have been offered work as a middle school art teacher and department head for grades 7-12. Matt has been offered work as a middle school science teacher. The school is called Al-Bayan Bilingual School. The children are all Kuwaiti and spend 60% of their day in an English classroom. The children study a combination of the American Curriculum, Local Curriculum, and in High School--Advance Placement courses are offered. The school director originally started talking to Matt about a long term sub position, but got turned on by his pre-school teaching experience, coaching, science degree, and enrollment in a masters program in teaching, learning and curriculum.

This school has 2,000 students, Nursery thru grade 12. There are 251 faculty members, many of which are Kuwaiti, British, American, Australian and other various third-country nationals. This school would be a step in the right direction for us. By working Middle School, I am opening the door to high school and leaving it open for elementary. Also, department head is not a bad thing to have on my resume. And then, Matt would be going from an assistant teacher to a lead teacher. I'm very proud of him.

In a few weeks, I'll be flying to San Francisco to attend an International Recruitment Fair, and to make sure that this is the best offer that we're going to get, although I have a feeling it is. I do have an interview lined up already with a school in Saudi Arabia, the draw to that school is the IB curriculum. But, it'd be a smaller school again, which I'm not so sure that we are interested in. Also, I don't know if they have anything available for Matt.

The worst part about this process has been feeling unwanted, and not having anything lined up to save us from that feeling. We were going back and forth, feeling like we made the wrong decision to throw the towel in, in Beijing. But now, it is just such a relief to know that there is an option out there for us. It's a great feeling--very encouraging, and a testament to faith. We're just going, somewhere, Kuwait or maybe somewhere else. Call it an adventurous spirit or whatever you will. We'll call it faith.

Our life abroad: it is what it is.

changes

My last post was early summer and now it's mid fall...oops. There has been plenty of times that I wanted to write but was feeling self conscious about making it public, like I'm bragging or something. That's stupid; it's my blog. This blog is about facing my demons, and I had a revitalizing weekend and so I'm feeling like I have the ego-strength to do it.

So there are a few things I want to blog about. First of all I read this book called, "Heaven is For Real." It's a child's account of heaven, after he wakes up from surgery. The father writes the book through the child's words and backs it up biblically. I thought it was wonderful. Even if the story isn't completely accurate, or even real at all, the account that the child gave, gave me beautiful images and I know that heaven won't disappoint, so in the meantime, I'm just going to revel in the images in my head that were stimulated by this book.

Ok, another thing. I started taking ballet again about 5 or 6 weeks ago. I love it. I danced all the way through grade school, and even as an adult, I've got to say that dance really does energize my soul. I was really worried about taking dance again because it's been 5-7 years since I did it. In college I did a little bit, but it wasn't enough to keep me looking and feeling like a dancer. In fact, from the moment I stopped dancing, I have never been satisfied with my body, coupled with the fact that I love dance, I knew it was time to find a studio. I am so lucky that I found a great instructor. It's hard to find adult dance classes that are not professional. So, I'm in this class with some high schoolers and it's great. It's about where I left off and I actually feel like with hard work I can get back to where I was when I left off.

So, especially since stopping dance, I've struggled with my weight. But, you know what, besides not being active enough, I drink too much and when I drink I indulge too much. I'm not an alcoholic, but even when I drink red wine, even when I drink straight whisky without all the sugary mixers, I can feel my body hold on to toxins that shouldn't be there...I totally sound Chinese right now. Anyway, I've gotta start thinking more about nutrition. I'm usually good at it, but I've sort of fallen off the band wagon recently.

I had a relaxing weekend. I went to the countryside with some girlfriends and we talked, slept, and relaxed all weekend. The seasons have changed, and I have been left with the energy to make some changes. Couple that with the fact that I signed up to run a 5K. Yes, I know, I hate running, but it's really good for you and a 5K doesn't take much to train for so I don't feel like I signed my life away. Matt signed up for the Marathon and so that'll keep me motivated to run. I think that is sort of crazy, but still, I don't want to be the bum on the couch while Matt is training to run 26 miles...oh geez, it hurts to just write it.

So, if you want to be helpful and encouraging, check up on me every once in a while. Ask how I'm doing with dance and the 5K. I'd definitely appreciate it.

work ethic

It's interesting to me how much atmosphere, mood, climate, etc... can effect you work ethic. All year I've been battling why in the world I don't feel as productive as I did last school year? I was talking with Matt about why I thought it was and he politely pointed out that I am so wrong. He knows me sssoooooo well; it's scary. Anyway, th e real reason that I have a hard time working is because my desk is in a cubical with all the other teachers in the basement. It's the hub of commotion. I've always had a hard time working when other people are talking, and I work with some pretty noisy people. Also, my office is 2 flights down and by the time I walk from my classroom to my office, I've lost my purpose and it's adjoining drive. Lastly, the basement is depressing. It has no natural light and it's all grey. My desk used to be in the library which connected to my classroom and I never lost purpose walking 15 feet. I used to get so much more done. I miss those days. My new mission is to figure out how to combat this. Any suggestions???

Failed Mission

As many know, I started a mission to go natural with all of our cleaning and health and beauty products. It's been difficult to say the least, but I think I'm doing pretty well, considering. It helps that I am doing it in phases. As I run out of something, I replenish with an organic product or I make it, instead of trying to restock everything at once. But, what if I can't find the organic product or ingredients? Up until now, I've been saying "what's the point?", and just passing on going organic. Perhaps I need to adopt a new philosophy though. So, starting now, if I can't find it completely organic, than I'll go as organic as I possibly can; because this 100% or nothing policy is just not working for me...I've been failing.

P.S. I got a new book, called The Green Beauty Guide and it is really helpful! I just made my own toothpaste, and I'm going to try making my own sugar wax next.

I'm growing up.

I would say, that up until recently, I was actually immature enough to believe that I knew the best ways someone should parent. I knew that my classroom was a working classroom and that if parents just implemented this philosophy that I had in their homes, their children would be better off. That's ridiculous! Homes are nothing like classrooms and further more, I have never been a parent, so who am I to judge?

Tonight, Matt and I went to a student's house. And, I know that I have grown up a bit, because I was way more accepting of the fact, that everyone does things differently. Who's to say, what's right and wrong when it comes to raising children and with the mix of cultures here there sure is a lot being said. Although, there were things happening in this house that I would have been uncomfortable with in my classroom, I was able to see that this is not my classroom and that this works beautifully in their family. The best part is, that on top of making these realizations, I was able to enjoy seeing the difference. Growing up can be beautiful!

Foolishness

I'm foolish.

I have lived in Beijing for a year and half. When I got here, I was fresh out of college and thinking that I would just continue art like I did when I was studying art, but that is not the case when you begin your career as a teacher. Although, I had heard that that wouldn't be the case, I thought that I would be the exception. Foolish thing #1.

I have said more times than what I am comfortable admitting, "I'm going to get my art studio situated this weekend". I would buy colored pencils here, charcoal there, but never fully what I needed, like a pencil sharpener or fixitive and then I would complain to my wonderful husband, that I just don't have what it takes to really get started here and that I was afraid to spend the money because I didn't know how long we would be living here. But, I'm tired of living like this is a temporary situation. I have not really decorated my apartment either, and I'm not happy with it, and Matt sure isn't happy with my complaining.

So, for my birthday Matt started me a work area (furnished by IKEA). This has gotten me jump started. So today, I spent the day getting inspired at the art museum and then I went to buy all the materials I could possibly need, which is a lot because I do mixed media paper arts. But, now I'm set, and happy...well, all except for the fact that I am a fool for not doing this sooner.

Live and learn.

Gyotaku

So, I teach a class called Crafts From Around the World twice a week. I teach one class for kids that are 4 and 5 and one class for kids that are 6 through 9. Yesterday, we did Gyotaku, which is a Japanese artform of printing from fresh fish. So, I had asked for some fresh, dead fish, and they obviously were fresh because a few of the fish were breathing, but I didn't know that at first. I laid them all out on the table and let the kids pick one. They were able to pick the kind of fish and the size. The fish had been in the freezer, but once the fish's blood started to warm up, a few of them would move. Kids, would say, "My fish is moving." At first I didn't believe them, and I said, "You just want to believe that they are still alive, it's just your imagination." But, then I realized that they were moving, slightly.

The fish were so close to death, they wouldn't have made it had I put them in water. And where was I going to take a twelve inch sea bass to live anyway. I grew up on water; I fished, and touched fish and learned how to treat animals with respect, even after they're gone, and these are some of my best memories...these kids have not experienced much nature. I'm supposed to do gyotaku in two weeks again, but with the older kids, but I don't know if I can do it. I might change my lesson. It really did go against everything I believe in as a vegan, and I really was feeling the guilt.

Home Visit

Yesterday, I went to my friend Tracy's parent's house. Her family members are native Beijingers and so it was quite the cultural experience. I have been living in Beijing now for a year and a half and I am sorry to say that until this point, I have never been into a local home. I have been into people's homes, but they have had at least one foreigner living in their home...this home had no foreign influence. It was great!

Their house was in a hutong, very small and quaint, and although the space was small, they had it set up in a way that was really comfortable. Although they didn't have a lot, they really had some nice things and they took care of everything that they had...a quality I admire in people!

We had gone to the market to buy some food because they were nervous about feeding a vegan. We picked out lots of great veggies and Tracy's Mom's Boyfriend cooked the most delicious meal! He made a mushroom and cucumber salad with vinegar, a spicy tofu dish, veggie noodles with eggplant and beans, tomatoes stir-fried with onion, and eggplant stir-fried with spring onion, all served with warm coconut milk for beverage....delicious!

I am sorry to say that I could only understand about 5% of the conversation in Mandarin, but I could tell that they were happy to have me in their home. They were definitely hospitable. They were really very lovely people. What a great day!

Xin Nian Kui Le ! (Happy New Year!)

It is now the New Year for anyone who pays attention to the lunar calendar. On New Years Eve we went to a rooftop bar downtown to watch the firework display ring in the new year at midnight. I always want to remember what it was like. There were fireworks in every direction over the whole city. It was quite spectacular and really wild. It was so loud and it even looked like twice as many fireworks as there really were because they were reflecting off the windows in the surrounding skyscrapers. It was really quite a site. As we were leaving to return home, we had to dodge fireworks in the streets and stop repeatedly while people lit them off. It is also customary that a Chinese person return home no matter where they live in the world to be with family. So, Beijing streets were more empty than normal and catching a cab took a long time. As we walked the streets, I imagined that this is what it would like in a warzone. Smoke everywhere, booms from all the fireworks, empty littered streets. It was like nothing I have ever experienced prior. It was fascinating.

Please, don't read (the book, not the blog)

So, I once read this book that I believe haunts me. It's called, "Love and Respect" and it's very popular among young Christian couples. But, I hate it. I think it is the worst read. The whole premise for the book is that women need love and men need respect and this is what it takes to make a healthy relationship.

I agree with the book's premise, at a very basic level. What I don't like is that this author has left me thinking that if my husband is not acting in a loving way, then I was disrespectful somehow to him. It has left me feeling guilty many times and striving to figure out how to fix problems that I cannot trace and when he is asked, he cannot either.

So, in conclusion, if anyone is thinking about getting a healthy marriage guidebook. I do not recommend this one...unless you like guilt trips, which I experienced this morning, 3 years after reading the book. This book was not the most helpful book for us. I would recommend a different book, except I only read Harry Potter, Dan Brown books, art journals and popular magazines and even that is a stretch of a statement, and really not marriage guidebook material. I guess this is not much of a conclusion. But then again, this isn't a very relevant post either. Thanks for reading my mumbo-jumbo.

I would be interested to know though...has anyone ever read a book that haunted them?

I'm going a bit crazy

So, I just got an e-mail from the FAFSA office and there is a problem with my FAFSA application. I am sure that it has something to do with the translating my tax information. It was all a bit confusing when I was filling out the paperwork. Anyway, I missed the deadline to begin classes in January and so I am hoping to get started in the April session. I am worried though. If I don't get student aid, I can't attend school.

I'm so ready to be a student again. I am ready to make some things happen for myself. I'm already starting to feel a bit stuck in Beijing. Matt and I would never leave Beijing without having something lined up. Our life is comfortable, which is satisfying at times and unsatisfying other times.

I created an art piece about a month ago and I know it is good. This piece in fact has had me revved up for a while. I believe that it is show-worthy. I talked to the school today about purchasing some of their paper. I love this paper. It's not great paper for what we do with the children, but it's great for me. Anyway, I'm going to start doing some more art. I mean, if nothing else, I can just beef my resume by sending some work out for shows...I guess.

I like that idea. I do. I just really want to go back to school. I am one of those people that always needs a project, or my restless spirit takes over. I've been in shows before, not that you can really be in too many or anything, I want to do something new, I guess. Well, that is what has been haunting me...it's time to make something happen for myself. More than just an application and an acceptance letter, I've got to get started or I'm going to go crazy.

American Dream

I can't help but feel annoyed with the American Dream. I've been trying to figure out why I have such an issue with it. So I have been researching, "what exactly is the American Dream?"

Most Americans would say that the American Dream is having the security of owning your own home and then starting a family. Why does that piss me off so much?

I now know why I have such issues with the American Dream. I have wanted to flee from the American Dream mentality because it is confining. I find it to be a formula and I find it incredibly uncreative. I want to be clear though. This is not an attack on any home-owners. I'm not even opposed to being a home-owner one day in my life or having a family. I, in no way, look down on anyone that owns a home, just as I don't look down on anyone who eats meat, or who isn't a Christian. I am a vegan Christian with a problem with the American Dream and I don't believe that you should be everything that I am, just because I am. However, I would be curious to know how many people out there feel burdened by their debt and by the responsibility to home up-keep?

Anyway...our Declaration of Independence states that "all men are created equal" and that they are "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights" including "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." So, I have to ask, "Why do we assume that all Americans would fulfill their right to life, liberty and a pursuit of happiness in a 30-year mortgage?"

All this to say, we (Matt and I) really pride ourself on the fact that we're a little bit a-typical. We don't want to fall into the American Dream trap just because a lot of people that we know have the American Dream and love it. Also, we certainly want to feel like we can act on a whim, just like when we moved to China, or bought our car in the States, or traveled to Thailand, or bought his wedding ring, or took a roommate in our first year of marriage. All of which are decisions that we have not regretted, and are opportunities that we are glad that we took.

But still, there is a sense of guilt. It is easy to feel conflicted. Sometimes, I will break down and tell Matt that we need to be thinking more seriously about settling down. Why isn't it that I can accept that we are pretty settled and what exactly does it mean to settle down? The other day, Matt and I, collectively took off our wedding rings and just held them and stared at them. Our goal was to see these rings as symbols of something greater and more meaningful than the first step in the American Dream. It worked. Sometimes, I flip out. I think, "Oh my God, Matt. We don't have a plan for our future!" But on this day, we took off our wedding rings and looked at them and said, "well, we don't have a plan, together. And it feels right."

This is really a pretty personal blog for me. A lot of them have been. I don't normally share a whole lot of information with everyone out there, but I think this one is specifically important. Maybe you'll read it and think twice about making us feel bad for not knowing how long we'll be in China or if we'll ever have children. This isn't public information, but still I feel like I have to share it so that you'll know why I don't want to share our future plans. It's none of your business, but yet we owe it to you when we break the mold. I believe that some people think we're radical, and that part doesn't bother me. It's the discomfort that people feel in the fact that we don't have a plan. The only discomfort we feel is being reflected off of others and it shouldn't be like that. We're doing just fine. In fact, I would say that Matt and I have achieved the Real American Dream, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

That, however, leads me to another topic...how lucky we are to be Americans. I never really realized how patriotic I actually am, but the Chinese people may never feel the same freedoms that we are so lucky to possess. But, I'll save that for another blog post, another day.

performance appraisal

When I feel good at my job, it makes working so much more enjoyable. I know that I am usually pretty good at my job, but sometimes I can feel like things are not going well if I don't have my hand in some sort of leadership or innovative something or other. I have no idea why it is like this for me. Perhaps I am insecure. I have no idea, but I know that being recognized by others makes me feel good about myself and it is quite motivating. But I guess it is probably like that for a lot of people.

Quite a while ago, a book came out, The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. I never read it, but I know that it talks about people's tendencies to give love and receive love. The five categories are, gifts, words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time and acts of service. Without a shadow of a doubt I receive love by words of affirmation. Although I love the others, I know that I feel the most love when people affirm me with words.

With all of this being said, I had a pretty good day today. First of all, I am the only one who I work with that is qualified to do my job. As stupid and silly as it sounds, it makes me feel special. The best part is, is that I felt like it was recognized today. I actually felt appreciated a few times today, so it was a really, really good day.

Here's the catch though, I can only take so much. I have a friend who compliments the heck out of me and I often feel so embarrassed. Today I went to dinner with two friends who are both at least 40 years my senior and they both just kept complimenting me. I didn't mean to, but I finally said, "shut up"...I seriously couldn't take it. I didn't mean to say it but the words just fell out of my mouth. I wanted them to stop as quickly as possible. It's a good thing they are friends, no feelings were hurt and I'm glad for that.

Although, now that I am writing this, I am realizing that perhaps it wasn't so bad to be over-complimented because I am still considering this to be a really, really good day. I guess it didn't affect me too much to be over-complimented. However, I do need to find a way to self-regulate a little better and feel good about the work that I do without the help of others. Any ideas anyone?

makin' it happen

I recently made a decision to make some new things happen for myself. When things are the same for too long I get a little restless and that is how I am feeling. So, I applied to grad school and I applied to work at a summer art program in Michigan....well I got both. As exciting as that is, it came with stress.

For grad school, there is finance stress...the worst kind of stress. I have to fill out the FAFSA again...suck! It's pretty complicated too this time around because I am applying for U.S. financial aid based of my Chinese taxes (which I cannot read) for an Australian school that may not accept U.S. financial services.

The U.S. offers a lot of support for students going to college that I never realized wasn't available other places in the world. I had no idea that foreign schools may not even have a financial aid office...which is my case. There is no one to ask questions to except for the general agent that I have been assigned to. So, really, this hasn't been an easy process. And you know governments, it's hard figuring anything out from their websites. I think I may have it figured out though. The finance office at my work has been helpful and I think that the U.S. will defer my existing student loans from undergraduate school while I am a grad student...great!

I also applied to be the sculpture teacher at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp in Michigan. I guess it is just north of Muskegon and I will be at the camp for 10 days in the summer. I was really feeling unprepared to work at a camp like this because I thought that I would have to come up with these ingenious projects since the students may be gifted in the arts and may have had previous experiences with every material that I can think of. I looked at some pictures of the previous summer and realized that these kids are still kids...for goodness sake Kate, they're Jr. Highers, not professional sculptors. I'm not really sure why I was so worked up.

Anyway, today was a great day! I received the pictures of camp and got my Chinese taxes all figured out for the FAFSA. On top of that, we went to Hot Pot. Hot Pot is great! It's boiling broth in the middle of the table. They bring raw vegetables (and meats, which I don't eat), to the table and you cook them in the broth, just like fondue, but with chopsticks. Then you have a dipping sauce. I generally do a spicy broth with cabbage, tofu, and golden mushrooms. For dip, I use a sesame sauce with cilantro and scallions. It's delicious! I have been asking people to do Hot Pot for quite some time, well I guess today was finally the day. Wonderful!

If hot pot sounds interesting to you, here is a great website so that you can make it at home. http://www.thespicehouse.com/recipes/hot-pot-with-three-sauces

Anyway, I really feel like things are coming together...the work has paid off. Love that!

New Year, New Plan

Its the first week in January and I made a New Years resolution. I've tried to do New Years resolutions in the past and my stats are against me. This year is going to be different though. That may be because I am committing by putting this out there via the world wide web and I'm committing to anyone who may read this that I will be successful in my resolution.

My goal is to be more green. I have been on a kick about this for quite some time. In high school I was a vegetarian and I could feel the healthy affects of being so, but I was young and did not know enough about general health to do a good job. Needless to say, my commitment to being a vegetarian eventually fell through. But, here I am seven years after the fact and a successful vegan.

I started my veganism after reading about the health benefits as well as animal welfare concerns. I have never been really into animals, but here I am in my mid-twenties not getting any younger, wanting to commit to good health and slightly bothered by the idea that I was consuming animals that died in agony for me to consume unnecessarily.

I have now been a vegan for one year, and I can feel the effects of it. My skin is clear, my body is more regular in every sense of the word, and I'm actually happier. Happier? Who would have known that the food that I eat could actually affect my mood. I now believe that the animals that died in agony left a mark on me when I consumed them. I know that sounds maybe like karma or perhaps something really new-agey...but whatever, I've experienced a dramatic shift in my emotions and I'm a believer.

So, back to my resolution. I want to be more green. You may be asking what does all of this have to do with being more green? Last year I became a vegan, and this year I am going organic, but really this is all in attempt to be more ethical.

One of my major concerns is rainforest clearance. Rainforest clearance is driven mainly by demand for wood and the desire for land to grow crops such as soya that is mainly used as feed for the meat and milk industries, as well as palm oil which is found in a wide range of products. These Clearances have been responsible for an estimated 300,000 species that have been rendered extinct in the last 50 years. But people have also suffered, and usually the poor. There are now more environmental refugees than there are political refugees, forced to leave their homes as their food sources become less and their water becomes polluted.

Besides rainforest clearance, the production of feed crops and the farming of animals uses an astonishing amount of water. This is not as big of a problem in the U.S., but again the poor is the ones that are being affected. Many third world countries are running dry on fresh water as it is.

Then there is all the manure. Much manure is finding it's way into rivers and streams which leads to acid rain.

I also really believe that when God created the heavens and the earth, he didn't leave us with a particularly hard job. He wanted us to be stewards over the plants and animals and we're really messing things up.

So, here is my plan for 2011. I will be trying to make (and if I can't, then I'll buy) all organic household cleaning products as well as health and beauty products. So far, I am off to a slow start with this. I tried making shampoo and I did not like the finished product. So, I'll be trying a new recipe and then I'm moving onto laundry detergent.

The environmental risks associated with chemicals found in cleaning products as well as health and beauty are slight. But, last April, we lost a dear family member to cancer. Matt flew back to the states and I was left in China for a month to do some soul searching. I really began to think about the way that we treat our life. So often, we take for granted our health and never think for a second that the small decisions we make, such as the shampoo we use, could be affecting us. Here I am, 24, and I have always bought whatever shampoo was on sale. Never, taking into account the ingredients, which could possibly be carcinogenic. I don't drink my shampoo, but I'd be a fool to think that none of the ingredients could possibly have entered my temple through my pores, and I have a responsibility to take care of myself for my friends and family.

Mostly though, I feel driven by a responsibility to take care of our earth. Really, it's such a beautiful gift, and the other people on it deserve to enjoy it too. I am bothered by the social injustices that I have contributed to in the past. I will not consume of our planet in a such a haphazard way anymore. I will take into account the affect I am having on God's creation. This is my plan.

it is what it is

I have been awarded such unique opportunities in my life and at times I feel disappointed with ideas that my my life is exceptionally ordinary, always leaving me with the pressure to make it something more. I know that these thoughts are not true and that it is just my demons, but I can't help but listen to them. This blog is a record of the things worth remembering, and a tool to confront the feelings of my unsettled spirit. There is no set theme for this blog, somedays it may be a funny story, others an inspiring picture. Whatever I post, this is my attempt to feel satisfied...it is what it is.