Tag: Instagram

Lose.

As soon as the new year hit, I was BOMBARDED with ads on Facebook and Instagram for weight loss programs. When I watched TV, every other commercial was for a diet plan, gym membership, or piece of workout equipment. I get it, I’ve fallen into that “new year, new me” mentality before. I’ve fallen into thinking that the new year was somehow going to bring new focus, new drive, new motivation. And then I was sorely disappointed yet again to figure out that I was still me. A turn of the calendar page did not mean anything. This year was the first year I think I was actually aware of what is going on. I mean, yes, I’ve always known that the big weight loss push happens at the first of the year, but I hadn’t truly ever thought about what it meant. It means that the majority of us are unhappy with our bodies for some reason or another, and it means that we fall victim over and over again to big corporations trying to cash in on our unhealthy relationships with our bodies. I’m not saying that weight loss itself is a bad thing, but it really irks me that we “need” all this help. Why are we not taught practical ways to care for our bodies when we are kids? Why is junk food, fast food, and convenience food pushed on us? So that we will need to buy that diet plan later. And we have all these things that make our lives easier, but sometimes all it does is make us have to move less. We are so sedentary. And then we have to schedule out even more time to work out, we have to buy equipment for it, it’s a whole thing. And now I sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist, but it’s a gross cycle.

As I sat and watched TV the other day, I felt physically ill seeing all of these commercials. “Before” pictures showing unhappy, (sometimes) overweight individuals would fill the screen. One in particular I saw three times in one sitting and I couldn’t get over it. It showed this woman who was talking about how she didn’t like her body anymore and “didn’t recognize” herself, so she had to buy this program. I KID YOU NOT, I swear they bought her the same track suit from her before picture in a bigger size so it would look like she had lost weight. If you really focus on her, she doesn’t look any different. What in the world are we being fed?

I understand the need for our society as a whole to be healthier, I really do. But I absolutely know that these “miracle” programs are not the answer. And the fact that every other ad that is pushed into our faces tells us that our bodies need this or that before they are acceptable is bull. I am as heavy right now as I was when I was nine months pregnant with my daughter, and I’ll be honest, when I realized that, I was freaked out. I weigh so much that it is entirely possible for me to fit a whole [albeit small] other person inside me. I felt the initial shame, disgust, and general unhappiness with my body that the world tells me I should feel. But over the last several months, I’ve come to terms with my body. This body of mine has carried me through every single day. It has held me as I’ve had my weakest, most emotional moments over the last couple of years. It has hugged and hugged and hugged some more. It has laughed, it has cried, it has ached. It has stretched and it has held another human being. It has nourished our daughter and held her as she cried. It is the perfect body that God made for me, and I am done hating it. Now, I’m not saying this is where I need to live forever, that I couldn’t improve. I could definitely be a better steward of the blessing of my body that God has given me; I could do a better job of taking care of it. However, I will not be shamed into thinking that I have to be a certain size or eat a certain meal to be worthy of some arbitrary praise. My body is mine, and I won’t be shamed into hating it anymore.

One of my very favorite wedding photos, taken after the ceremony. I was so completely overwhelmed with emotion and my sweet husband was comforting me.

[My husband just asked me what I was “over there blogging about,” and I told him. He said, “Well, I love your body.” Ladies, find yourself a man who will not only appreciate your body no matter the size, but love it unconditionally. I am definitely not the same size (or shape for that matter) as when we first met, or even when we got married (although I stress ate for like a full month before our wedding and did gain a ton of weight 臘‍♀️) Anyway, all that to say, my husband is the sweetest.] We need to love our bodies, right here right now, no matter what they look like.

Real.

I wrote this a few nights ago with the intention of posting, but I had a horrible headache went to bed instead. I still thought it needed to be shared.

Last night, I posted some pictures on Facebook with the caption “perfect night.” I was going to post this one on Instagram with a similar caption, but my app crashed and I forgot about it until much later.

Last night was really good. Our little family took a walk together, the weather was amazing, the sunset was gorgeous, my husband built a fire in the fire pit, we had s’mores, and did some sparklers leftover from the 4th of July just because. We came in, did all the bedtime things with baby girl, got her to sleep, and my husband and I watched an entire movie in one sitting – something that rarely happens anymore. Those are the kinds of things that most people post about on social media.

Gorgeous sunset!

I started this blog because I wanted to be real with you all. I wanted to put not only the good, but the bad and ugly of our life out there as well so that someone else wouldn’t feel so alone. No one’s life is as picture perfect as they put on social media, so don’t you dare for a minute think it is. What I didn’t post about was the fact that our daughter has been in trouble off and on all week, has had THE WORST time transitioning from pooping in diapers to in the potty, had slept poorly the night before, and didn’t take her usual nap at all yesterday.

My daughter woke up with a blood curdling scream last night as my husband and I were going to bed that scared me to death. She had been a little fussy when I laid her down, complaining that she wanted to cuddle me more even though we had already had her cuddle time. But, she didn’t fuss long and went to sleep. But, it was like she woke up, remembered she was mad, and just got madder. Our kid sometimes. She scares me with the anger that is in her tiny body. She screamed and clung to me for what felt like a half an hour before I realized that she wasn’t in fact hurt or sick, just plain mad. I tried so hard to be patient and reassuring, and I was the first ten times she screamed in my face, whined, kicked, and screamed. But, at some point, I lost it. I yelled back, she pushed me, and I swatted her bottom. I held her so tightly, trying to physically contain all the anger in her body. And then I felt awful for losing my temper. She’s so well-spoken and smart that I forget she’s not even three years old yet. I forget that she’s feeling big emotions and does not know how to control them yet. I forget that she doesn’t know how to react the way I am expecting her to. I started crying and couldn’t stop then- like awful, ugly cry sobs. She kind of calmed down and asked if I was okay. We talked about how when she acts like that, it upsets mama. I apologized to her for losing my temper, she told me she loved me and I reassured her that I loved her too. She calmed down and agreed to lay back down. I still think she thought it was almost time to get up, because she said, “I will go back to sleep for a few minutes until daddy’s alarm goes off.” She slept until 7 this morning, though, so whatever. Today brought more complete meltdowns and timeout. But, she did take a nap and then pooped in the potty. After that, it was like a new kid. I know things are weird and it’s really messing with her. The time change really threw her off too. Even though we tried to adjust her gradually that week before, she is still freaked out about it getting dark before she lays down now. She always says, “I’m staying up too late!” when the sun starts setting. I know she’s just two… I just forget sometimes.

So, the perfect, tiny glimpse of life I posted on Facebook was just that, a tiny piece of what had actually been going on in our lives. You all, nobody’s life is picture perfect all the time. Everybody’s life looks like a crazy mess, most people just don’t usually choose to share that part. I try so hard to remember this – to remember that I have no idea what’s going on in others’ lives. All I know is what they choose to share.

Inspired.

I’ve been feeling the urge to try and do some creative, artsy things lately. Being inspired by others is definitely something I didn’t expect to happen [because I’m generally uninspired, not because there isn’t an abundance of super inspirational people out there], but it’s what’s been the driving force of my creativity these days. Granted, almost all of this creativity is alleged, because it’s still in my head at the moment. I need a kick in the rear to motivate me to do just about anything.

I love Instagram mostly for one reason: I can control what I see. I only follow accounts that are going to inspire and uplift me, and I pass on everything else. I follow a lot of food-related accounts: chefs, restaurants, home bakers, and people who, like me, just like to eat food. Is being a patron of the culinary arts a thing? If so, I totally am. I also follow a lot of people who love what they do, and I’m so inspired by that. I want to love what I do and use it for the glory of God. I want to use my gifts in new, scary ways. (By the way, this is right now, sudden burst of creativity me speaking. In probably exactly ten minutes I will be utterly terrified by what I just typed out.) I want to create beautiful things and inspire others to do the same.

When I became a mom almost three years ago (!) I struggled with identity. I was so engrossed in breastfeeding and changing diapers and listening to every sound and watching every breath, that I literally could not remember who I was or what I liked to do. I would lay on the couch at night after baby girl was in bed and just stare. I wanted to do something, but nothing sounded enjoyable. Looking back, I think I probably had a bit of PPD going on, but at the time it was just how it was. I remember having a breakthrough moment where it just clicked that I needed to seek out who I was in Christ first, and that the rest would come later. That helped so much. Putting my focus back on God was how I eventually felt like myself again. Well, sort of myself. Bits of my old self came back and mixed with my new motherhood and made me into who I am today. Life is so weird. And beautiful.

When I was in high school and college, I made a lot of collages and did a lot of scrapbooking. I loved it. I know those activities probably date me, but I truly did enjoy it. To this day, the [small] graphic design element of my job is my favorite part. I always say I just “know what looks good and what doesn’t” Never having gone to school for any of that (French major over here…🙋‍♀️), I couldn’t even begin to explain even the basics of design. I know the rule of thirds, but that’s about it. That’s a thing, right?

Anyway, the other night, I just had the strongest urge to draw. I haven’t drawn anything in like, two decades probably. I don’t have a sketch pad, and it was like 10:30 PM and I didn’t want to go digging around in my desk for some paper. So I grabbed my bible journal with the intention of doodling in there, but I just wasn’t feeling it. [Side note: is anyone else out there like ridiculously picky about their journals? I love the cover of the one I have right now, but it isn’t spiral bound and it just makes me unreasonably angry to try to use it sometimes. I hate having to fight with it to make it stay open while I’m writing. Plus, there’s like this whole inch column down every other page that I just can’t quite get my pen in there to write… ugh. It’s a first world problem, for sure.] I remembered that you could draw on the note app on my phone and decided to give it a whirl. These particular words came to mind as soon as I sat down to doodle. It took me forever to get a version I like enough, and it’s still not perfect at all. My phone needs a stylus – finger writing on a screen just isn’t the same.

My husband and I need so many prayers of encouragement at the moment. I feel like God is moving in our hearts and leading us to something big and scary. If you all don’t know my husband a) you should, because he is the sweetest human being on the planet, and b) he is good at pretty much everything. Okay, not everything, but A LOT of things. He taught himself the bass, guitar (he plays this crazy good), piano, and drums. I always tease him that he can listen to a song once and instantly know how to play it on guitar (and that’s only exaggerating a little.) He is excellent at woodworking, plus he LOVES it. He was going to school for drafting and loved that. I’m telling you, anything he tries to do, he learns it quickly and well. Our pastor’s wife is in on this joke and commented on the pumpkin he painted a few weeks ago with perfectly straight free-handed triangles. I mean, seriously, he even paints pumpkins well. Anyway, there are so many things he is good at that I just know he knows how to do for a reason. I’m not speaking any specific idea out loud yet, because I don’t want to limit what God has in store for us. But, I’m almost certain we were meant to work together somehow, owning our own business. Prayers for boldness and discernment for that would be greatly appreciated.

A guitar that hubby has made, the infamous perfect pumpkin, and a baby play gym that I mentioned liking and he whipped one up in a few evenings (he even made the wooden rings!) This guy is ridiculous.

Anyway, this whole tangent started because I said I was feeling creative. So, here’s me, putting that out into the world. I pray that I can continue to be inspired, and that it will lead to something amazing!

Fires.

You all, I went into panic mode major yesterday. I got on the good ole Instagram to post this photo, and couldn’t find it. Ever since I had put an SD card into my phone, Instagram has had some issues pulling things from my phone’s gallery, so at first I didn’t think anything of it. But I went in and searched for it like I normally do in the SD card memory and it wasn’t there. I got to looking and a ton of my pictures were missing, like THOUSANDS of pictures. The SD card that had been about half full now said that almost all the memory was empty. I was FREAKING OUT. I was trying to stay calm hoping that somehow my husband could save the day when he got home from work. I then remembered that we had downloaded the Amazon photos app just a few weeks ago and had backed up our photos to that. The day was saved, right? Not quite. When I opened the app, all it was showing me were the same photos my phone said I had… just a couple hundred, not the thousands we had backed up. Well, I was totally freaked out then, and noticed that my phone was getting really hot. So, I took out the SD card and put it into my computer… it still said there was hardly anything on it. At this point, I was really trying to come to terms with the fact that I may had lost all my pictures of our life from the last year and a half (I had backed up earlier ones before this on a physical hard drive). All I had were the ones I had posted on Facebook. But, after removing the SD card from my phone, I closed all the apps, prayed, then opened the Amazon photo app again. They were all there except the ones taken after September 10th of this year. I was so ecstatic. I guess something happened that day, and I’m glad I caught it when I did.

When hubby got home he found a program online to scan the SD card and found (I think, I’m kind of afraid to look) all of my photos and videos hidden in the “free space” of the card. Yeah, I’m not using that anymore. Ugh.

A few days ago, I saw two different instances where local families’ houses had burned down and they had lost everything. I had already been thinking about the people affected by the wildfires out west, how horrible it would be to literally lose everything I own. Then, I saw some pictures from Rachael Ray’s [the TV chef. I sort of love her a lot!] home. Her house burned down several months ago from a fireplace fire, and she shared photos of the devastation as the new season of her show started. I cried. I can’t imagine losing everything. I mean, I know that everyone says, “as long as everyone is okay, it’s just stuff, it can be replaced.” And that’s true. People are far more important than any earthly thing. However, family heirlooms are not replaceable; your kids’ artwork and handmade gifts are not replaceable; your favorite book you’ve read a million times over the years that is worn in just the right way is not replaceable. These things are just lost. It got me thinking about life and how sometimes we need spiritual fires to make us move. Sometimes we have to be shaken and our world has to be turned upside down for us to wake up, to see things with fresh eyes, and to get up and move. When I’m really comfy on the couch, I don’t want to move; I’m perfectly content to be where I am and have no intention of moving until I absolutely have to. I’ve found out the hard way lately that life isn’t comfortable, and when we start to think we might be comfortable, change comes charging in before we ever know what hit us. It turns over the couch and throws us into the floor. Life is hard. I’ll say that again because it’s so stinking true: LIFE. IS. HARD.

All these “sayings” that you hear about life being about more than stuff, about how time goes so quickly, about how we’re never guaranteed tomorrow… those came from wise people. Those came from people who have lived it and know what they’re talking about. Those came from a place of love, trying to spare us from making the same mistakes and taking the same things for granted that they did. But for whatever reason, we humans seem to be inherently stubborn, and we think we know better. We have to find out for ourselves what we’ve heard all along. And it hurts. It’s so painful. And some people never realize it until it’s too late.

I know pictures are also just things, but they are more than that: they are irreplaceable reminders of memories that might otherwise fade. I’m so, so thankful that my hubby seemingly was able to recover them. My heart breaks for people who have lost tangible pieces of their lives and memories in fires or by other natural disasters.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith- more precious than gold that perishes in fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1:6&7

I feel like in reference to this passage, “a little while” could be considered most of our earthly lives, because compared to eternity, it is in fact just a little while. This is our refining time, and being refined is often hard and painful. But, we can still rejoice in our grieving because of who God is and what He’s done for us, and is still doing for us every day. We can walk through hardships giving praise and honor and glory to Christ, because He has already overcome everything that we are facing. And I’m not saying that this life is all terrible by any means, because it’s not. God gives us daily, minute to minute reminders of how much He loves us and cares for us in the people we love, the beautiful sky, the wonder of nature, and so much more. We just have to slow down to really appreciate them.

Comparison.

We had baby girl’s birthday party yesterday, and were so blessed with an enormous amount of friends and family that came to celebrate with us. I ordered a cake from Main St. Bakery a couple of weeks ago, and I was excited to see what she came up with. Hubby went and got it while I put sweet girl down for a nap, then mom came and stayed with her while I went to church to set up. I was so happy with how it turned out. Her cakes are always beautiful, but this was absolutley gorgeous!
Could this be any more perfect?! I was in love with that cake! I didn’t want to cut it.

When we got home I posted a picture of it on Instagram. When I got back on later, I had a comment on my post from the illustrator of the Fancy Nancy books! She said it was brilliant, and I couldn’t agree more. Also, I was freaking out that she had commented on my photo! I may or may not have followed her immediately and now she probably thinks I’m crazy… but how awesome is that?!

If I’ve learned anything from Instagram, it’s that the world is actually pretty small, and everybody is a personal blogger. I see other people, mamas specifically (SO MANY), out there doing exactly what I’m doing, and I get discouraged. I start thinking, “she’s prettier, her pictures are more beautiful, her house looks like a magazine, she’s more outgoing than I am…” on and on. I fall down the comparison hole and it’s hard to climb back out. I wonder why anybody would care what I have to say when there are already so many “better” options out there. But then I’m gently reminded that I’ve been called to this. I don’t have to have the prettiest photos and I don’t have to shout louder than everyone else to be heard. I just have to be me, because God called me to speak in only a way I can, from experiences that are unique to me. And because He called me to this, He will be faithful to use what I’m giving Him; He will put my words in front of the exact person that needs to see them. He will use me if I get out of my own way and let Him.
For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God…
2 Timothy 1:6a