Do what you know

This blog has sat dormant for more months than I'd like to admit. There are multiple reasons, I suspect. Having young children. Buying my first home. Accepting a job promotion. Running a (very) small business. My husband applying for graduate programs and eventually deciding to start nursing school. But probably the biggest reason, I'd say, is because I've been depressed.

 

It's weird for me to type that. It's weird for me to experience it, really. I've had an optimistic, cheerful outlook for most of my life. I've been an advocate for happiness. For sunshine. For positivity and joy. To feel the darkness of reality creeping in and settling in my heart has been and continues to be disturbing for me. I don't have full-blown Major Depressive Disorder, as far as I can self-diagnose from studying the DSM-5. But I do have some marked symptoms: feelings of emptiness and hopelessness, unexplained tearfulness, diminished interest in activities that used to bring fulfillment (ie. blogging, scrapbooking, journaling), restlessness at bedtime, energy loss, and excessive, irrational guilt. I am anxious a lot about things I have no control over. It is difficult and I've been putting off addressing it because the idea of addressing it makes me even more anxious. But, then. . . I went skiing.

"The stuff dreams are made of."

I've been feeling all kinds of mom guilt that I haven't given our new baby a proper introduction on the blog. How has he already been around for a whole month?!

Rhett Austin Knowlden was born on August 13, 2015 (7 lbs, 11 oz; 18 inches long). His entrance into the world didn't go anything like we had planned or hoped, but he made it here safely in the wee morning hours via C-section. We are grateful. 

I love this shot of us from our stay at the hospital. I look tired, but happy. Isn't that motherhood? It's draining work- changing, nursing, cuddling, crying, bathing, pacing, lifting, packing, folding, cleaning, loving. There have definitely been hard postpartum days where the tasks of parenthood seem overwhelming and annoying, but I'm trying so hard to cultivate a spirit of thankfulness and peace in my heart. Babies don't keep, you know? He's already so much more plump and squishy than he was when he got here!

The other night JD was able to get both sleeping kids out of their car seats and carried them inside (one on each shoulder) without waking them. I complimented him on his impressive Dad skills and he responded, "this is the stuff dreams are made of." He didn't want to lay them down and just soaked in their quiet goodness.

I've been thinking a lot about that phrase lately: "the stuff dreams are made of." I dreamed and planned and hoped for this stage in my life. . . my goal is to be present, grounded and grateful rather than frazzled, hurried, and resentful. 

Thank you, my little Tenley Mae and sweet baby Rhett, for refining me. You two, in so many ways, are making my dreams come true. 

Five reasons I'm a better person because I've worked in Residential Treatment

I've had some thoughts floating around in my head for the past few weeks and I just want to get them written down before my pregnant brain allows them to vanish forever. I am SO, SO grateful for my experiences working at a Residential Treatment Center (RTC).  Just as a little background for those of you who don't totally know what an RTC is: RTCs are basically live-in health care facilities where teenagers come to live, go to school, and receive intensive therapeutic services. The place I work is a lock-down setting (I've also worked in a less intense therapeutic boarding school). The center I'm at now provides treatment for adolescents with lots of different issues. . . oppositional defiant disorder, conduct disorder, depression and suicidal ideation, reactive attachment disorder, bipolar disorder, fetal alcohol syndrome, substance abuse, post-traumatic stress disorder, educational issues and histories of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. There's always a lot going on with these kids! I'm a recreational therapist and currently work primarily with 15 to 17-year old boys with behavioral misconduct issues. I think I'm a better person because of the time I've spent with them. Here's why.

It's sweet again.

It's been two months since I lasted posted on this blog. The days pass so quickly! I can't believe how the seasons fade into each other and then, without me even noticing, the years change. Time slips through my grasp and I have a hard time orienting myself. I feel like I'm a brand-new mom. . . and I'd say, in some respects, I still am. However, I've had a little human in my care for two years now. What a remarkable, hard, patience-testing, joyful, tiring, happy struggle-blessing! (Haha- clearly parenthood is hard to describe).

5 "Baby booty bump" Lessons

The last few weeks have been a little surreal. On Sunday April 27, I entered an Instagram dance-off for moms hosted by The Alison Show in hopes of winning a $250 gift card to The Land of Nod. I had two entries: (1) the original clip of me dancing and (2) an "outtake" clip of me dancing and knocking my daughter to the ground with my bum. The latter clip was hilariously accidental and just too funny not to share. On Monday April 28, I sheepishly posted it to Facebook knowing it would surely brighten a few peoples' days. The response was overwhelmingly positive and many people shared, liked, and laughed at the video. I posted it on YouTube that night and sent it to The Ellen Degeneres Show via her website. On Tuesday April 29, I woke up with 700 views on YouTube and thought: "That's crazy! So cool." By the time I went to bed, I had 14,890 hits and I thought: "How did that happen?!" In the first 24 hours, I was contacted by several agencies asking for the rights to the video, but I ended up partnering with Storyful. And, boy, am I glad I did! Over the next few days, SO MANY people e-mailed, called, and messaged me about use of the video and I just directed everyone to Storyful. It has been such a blessing to delegate all that stress and headache to them. By Thursday May 1, my "baby booty bump" video hit one million views and had been shared by countless news and radio stations across the country. It was all over the Internet and television: CNN, The Today Show, E! News, ESPN2, the iFunny app, AOL, Time. You name it: I was probably there. It was totally overwhelming and time-consuming to keep up with all the hype! On Wednesday May 7, I was in the audience of The Ellen Degeneres Show and had to pinch myself as I heard Ellen discuss the powerful "thrust to my daughter's face." On May 8, my little snippet aired on Ellen. As of today, May 13, the video has 2,350,583 views on YouTube. I still can't believe it.

I've learned a lot from having my video "go viral." Some things are personal and/or confidential, but here's what I want the world to know.

Big families

In the first few months after Tenley was born, I remember thinking to myself on multiple occasions, "I won't be able to do this when I have a toddler at my feet". . .and then, one day, panicking, I thought, "or when I have multiple children at my feet!" Gosh. Taking care of lots of little ones will definitely be a challenge!! Overwhelmed, I asked my mom: "How do you take care of a baby when you have to take care of your other kid(s)? Like, I feel like this is so hard and there's only one of her. I don't know if I'll ever be able to manage more children." And, wisely, she said,"You don't know what you're doing with one and you're figuring it out. You won't know what you're doing with two, but you'll figure it out." And I guess that's how mothering goes. . . you just kind of figure it out. 

I'm grateful for the journey. I'm grateful for the ups and downs of figuring stuff out. I'm grateful for the exhausting, not-so-glamorous, patience-trying, faith-testing, down and dirty moments of motherhood (and life, for that matter). I'm grateful for the things I learn from being a mom, a daughter, a sister. When all of my siblings were home together with my parents for Christmas, I remembered so clearly why I want a big family, why I'll stick it out through those trying moments of "figuring it out." More children means more laughter. More perspectives. More insight. More helping hands. More smiles. More support. More connections. More memories. 

It was so good to be all together again after Jake's two-year mission trip. Oh, I just love them so!

^^Supporting Morgie at a basketball game.^^

^^Christmas Eve at the Alamo.^^

^^Christmas Sabbath in our red Sunday best.^^

^^Being silly in the jerseys Jake brought home from Argentina.^^

Creativity.

Random ramblings of the evening:

Creativity isn't just painting or sculpting or composing or designing or drawing or making. To me, creativity means creating something- anything- that wasn't there before.  It's figuring out how to arrange your canned goods in a cabinet to make it more functional. It's coming up with something for dinner using only ingredients you have on hand. It's finding motivation to exercise when you aren't in the mood. Every person is creative in how they think, behave and respond to life situations. Please don't say "you aren't a creative person". . . because I guarantee, in one way or another, you are!! 

PS. Creativity could even be discovering how to eat a banana ;)

Some thoughts on beauty.

My dearest Tenley,

I feel like the easiest platform to communicate my thoughts right now is in a letter intended for you. Of course, you can't read it right now. . . but I hope someday you will. 

When I was in high school, I knew a handful of girls who struggled with eating disorders and had other body image issues. My heart hurt for them as they battled with the defeating thoughts Satan planted in their minds. I, myself, sometimes went through phases when I had obsessive ideas of how to look skinny and pretty (in fact, I still go through those cycles sometimes!) 

Spring.

Around these parts, the sun is starting to shine, literally and figuratively. Spring is just around the corner and the light and hope of a new season is definitely energizing me.

Eeee! Four months.

Eeee! (This is my excited squeal). My girl is four months old. Yowza! Where does four months go? I feel like I'm just getting back into the swing of things after Christmas. . . and yet Valentine's Day has already come and gone! A lot has been happening in our house. Between this Momma starting work again, our family taking a trip to Texas, and a mini flood in our basement home, we've had our hands full over the last little bit. JD is gearing up for PA school applications and I'm trying to find the new balance between home, work, and church responsibilities with a little one. Even though there's always something else going on, JD and I are making conscious efforts to savor the sweet days with our Tenley girl. We often set our other duties aside to just lay on the floor and stare at her. We read her books, and rattle her toys, and lotion her body and think to ourselves. . . "How on earth did we get so lucky?!" 

This week I had a super spiritual moment as I listened closely to the words of a beloved song, "I am a child of God." As Tenley's parent, I want the very best for her. I want to provide for her and care for her and I want her always always to know how deeply she is loved. If I, as an imperfect, mortal being, can love someone so deeply and fiercely, then how much more must a perfect, powerful, eternal God love his children? This perspective into my Father's love for me was moving and touching. . . and definitely turned my heart to thankful prayer. What a wonderful blessing to be a child of God! What a gift to know of his love for me and for my earthly child! What a powerful message for all men! We are loved in the most perfect way by the most perfect being. I am so grateful for this faith-building experience.

And now! On to the stats:

At four months, Tenley is 23.5" long (25th percentile) and weighs 11 lbs 7 oz (10th percentile). Her head circumference is in the 30th percentile. Tenley can roll over from back to tummy and vice versa. She often brings her hands up to her mouth to suck on them. She makes good eye contact and sometimes bursts into gummy grins. On occasion, she'll laugh out loud and she frequently squeals and squeaks. She has super strong legs and a reputation in our home of bouncing up and down when the music turns on. She grabs her toes, and my fingers, and my hair, and basically anything she can get a good grip on. She's developing such a cute little personality and we just love her.

One month update here. Two month update here. Three month update not available d/t mommy malfunction ;)

"Don't let a bad day make you feel like you have a bad life."

I read that quote today and it was exactly what I needed.

I had a terrible, rotten, no good, very bad day today. . . and for no reason in particular! I've been cynical and grumpy and bashing on myself and my life. I slept more than I should have, cried more than I needed to, and sat around doing absolutely nothing. I found zero motivation to make stuff for the shop, work-out, get out of my pajamas, work on Christmas projects, or read my scriptures (all things on my to-do list).  It's 7:30pm and all I did today was edit a research paper for JD, huffing and puffing the whole time about how I wish he didn't procrastinate and bashing on his writing skills. I was terrible and I've already apologized excessively.

My life is usually pretty bright and happy. I don't get upset a lot. I can usually keep my head screwed on straight and maintain a decent perspective. . . like when JD gets worried and complains that we're poor, I usually rattle off some cheesy line like, "We may be money-poor, but we're rich in love, baby!" Obnoxious, right? But, helpful.

Then, there are days like today where I feel like everything is falling apart and my life is in shambles and I cry until it's all out of my system. I hate these days. But they come sometimes and I just have to remember it's okay.

I'm okay. My life is okay. Everything is a-okay.

My bad days don't mean I have a bad life. Hoorah!

8th grade.

Today, I had a moment. My littlest baby sister is in 8th grade! Part of me is thinking, "I can't believe it!" . . . which, of course, isn't really a logical thought because it is, in fact, believable. She was a baby and then she learned to crawl and babble and eat real food and walk. She went to Kindergarden and progressed normally and played sports and made friends. She's gone through every year of school since then. . . so, yes, it's believable that now she's here: in 8th grade. But, really, after all that, I am still thinking, " I can't believe it." I remember thinking the same thing when Lindsey, my littler baby sister, was going into 8th grade. How was it already her time? And now, how can Morgan already be in that place where Lindsey was, where I remember being so well?

In 8th grade, I had my first experience with painful rejection. I didn't make PALS, a leadership club I desperately wanted to be involved with, and nearly every one of my close friends did. It was a brutal lesson I had to learn about letting go of my pride, accepting imperfection, and celebrating others' excitement even when it hurt. I learned what it meant to really like a boy. I mean, before that, I'd had a few crushes, thought some guys were really hot, and even gotten nervous striking up conversation. . . but, boy oh boy, did that near obsession with Lee Sharrock teach me what butterflies felt like.  He was the subject of almost all my journal entries, the topic of practically every late-night conversation at slumber parties, and the source of, I think, all my disagreements with friends. In 8th grade, I learned about peer pressure, the nasty monster who rears his head and makes you feel obligated to stick your tongue down someone's throat to win approval in Truth or Dare. I learned how dumb you feel in the moment when you walk away from peer pressure, but how immensely rewarding it can be later when you remember you had the courage to do what you thought was right. In 8th grade, I got my first real kiss under a lamppost on a street corner in a neighborhood where so many of my favorite memories were made. In 8th grade, I experienced the simple satisfaction of doing a back-handspring, a goal I worked so hard to reach. I felt and understood the importance of good friends. I experienced the heart-breaking task of moving away from the place you call home at a time when all good things seem to be right around the corner. I probably learned more about myself in 8th grade than I did in all the years before that combined. It was, and still is, one of the best years of my life.

The years have passed. I made that transition to high school, as did Jake and Lindsey. And now, sweet Morgie, it's your time. Shine on, girl!  Cherish the time you spend with your friends, but remember also that your family members are friends who'll be around forever. Kiss boys you really like, but don't kiss and kiss just for the heck of it. Befriend the dorky people in your classes and never let the pressure to be popular override the importance of being kind. You are so bright and talented and beautiful. Although I can hardly believe you're as old as you are, I'm totally confident in your ability to face whatever struggles come your way this year. You rock :)

Today, I had a moment- a moment to recognize how fast life happens and to appreciate it for all it's worth.

"You're saving me."

At work, we have community meetings in the evenings where the girls report on their daily goals and can do emotional "check-ins" if they want to. Staff are encouraged to participate. Last week, I checked in with the girls about how I was feeling in anticipation of my birthday. Essentially, I rambled on about how sometimes I don't feel like I'm living up to my potential and how I feel like my life is passing too quickly and I'm not doing all that I can to live my best life. I talked about how I don't always feel like I'm making a difference to anyone and I struggle with feeling like I'm not doing enough good in the world. At the end of my rant, one of the girls said, "You may not be stopping wars in Mongolia (?), but everytime you work, you're saving me."

Gosh, I love my job. I love the company. I love my co-workers. I love the girls. And sometimes it's really long and tiring, but everyday it's worth it.

(This is my shift. Favorite people ever.)

Teaching love and kindness.

For a long time, my Dad taught and coached at a high school level. Many of my childhood memories include going to games and practices, cheering on my dad and hanging out in his office. Even after he retired from teaching and started work as a contracter, I've thought of him as a teacher. He is a gifted leader. He knows how to connect with people in a way that makes them both respect and listen to him. He is humble. He loves people. And he's super passionate about things he loves (Texas history, sports, and the Gospel). He accepts people for who they are, but pushes them to be better versions of themselves.

He was more than just a school teacher, though.  He was a teacher in our home. He taught me to work hard, to develop meaningful friendships, to open my door to neighbors, to befriend the outsider, to give my best efforts, to sacrifice for family, and to put others before myself. He taught me these things by showing me them. He does manual labor without complaint. He loves to host gatherings in our home. As a youth leader at church, he made connections with the less popular kids and encouraged us to include them in activities. He helped church members move, visited them in their homes, and offered help in all the ways he could. He gave up his teaching career to take on a new job because he knew it would be better for our family.  In so many ways, I look to him for guidance and direction. His righteous example helps me both in my marriage and personal life.

Dad, thank you for providing for me, directing me, loving me, and teaching me. Your love and kindness are apparent in all you do. On Father's Day, and always, I'm lucky to be your daughter.

Dear girls,

I wish I knew how to tell you how much hope I have for you. I believe you can fight the demons you face. I believe you can find courage deep within yourselves and push through hard times. I believe you can accept the past and work towards a bright, bright future. You are so lucky to be where you are.

You may not believe in God, but I'm praying for you nonetheless. . . and I know He is blessing your lives. I feel His love and compassion everyday I work with you.

You are so very deeply loved.



A lesson in patience.

JD had been looking forward to our fishing trip on Saturday for weeks. I had secretly been dreading it. We woke up in the early, early morning and drove up the canyon for over an hour to set up on the dock by 7 am. It was freezing and I was crankkkky. After a few hours of fishing with only one bite, I was thoroughly convinced of what I'd known from the start: fishing is by far the most boring and unproductive way to spend your time. I mumbled and grumbled and begged JD to leave. He told me to be patient and to try to learn something from this beautiful experience in the outdoors. After pleading for freedom and finding no sympathy from my fish-loving husband, I decided I would read aloud to try and pass the time. We are currently reading the biography of Thomas S. Monson and I decided to pick up where we left off a few weeks ago.

Imagine JD's smug smile as I began the chapter by reading, "In 1930 when Sinclair Lewis accepted his Nobel Prize in literature he wisely stated, 'I learned, as a boy, that there is something very important and spiritual about catching fish.' Tom Monson would agree. . ." [emphasis added]

I wanted to die. The entire chapter we read was about the lessons he learned while fishing with his father, brothers, cousins, and other relatives on the lakes and rivers of his boyhood. How appropriate for this occasion, right?! I learned that  in order to learn to fish, one  must be "patient, watchful, determined, resilient, and strong." 

I couldn't believe we ended on that chapter and I decided to open the book at that particular moment. It was pretty hilarious. . . but I do think I'll be learning patience some other way. I still hate fishing.

Ollin.

Do you ever read words placed side by side in such a perfect combination that your heart almost sings? Or have you ever learned or remembered a single word that makes you want to be better?

For weeks, this word has been dancing in my brain: ollin. It's a word the ancient Aztecs used to describe an earthquake or great storm powerful enough to shake the earth. It's used to communicate intense and immediate movement. Ollin originates from yollotl, meaning heart, and yolistli, meaning life. The word literally means to move and act now with all your heart. It means to follow your path in life wholeheartedly. The Aztecs knew- when an earthquake hits, you have to move now.

I feel as though I've been stagnant the last few months. I'm not living my life whole-heartedly. I'm mostly just going through the motions. I'm challenging myself, and you, to live with more intention. Do your every day things with full purpose of heart. Go all in and live ollin.

Love your body.

I found this list while I was studying about eating disorders for my test and thought, "This totally rocks!" Thought I'd share in case you're feeling down about your body.

1. Your body is extraordinary- begin to respect and appreciate it. 2. Create a list of all the things your body lets you do. Read and add to it often. 3. Become aware of what your body can do each day. Remember is it the instrument of our life, not just an ornament. 4. Create a list of people you admire: people who have contributed to your life, your community, or the world. Consider whether their appearance was important to their success and accomplishments. 5. Walk with your head high, supported by pride and confidence in yourself as a person. 6. Don't let your weight or shape keep you from activities you enjoy. 7. Wear comfortable clothes that you like and that feel good to your body. 8. Count your blessings, not your blemishes! 9. Think about all the things you could accomplish with the time and energy you currently spend worrying about your body and appearance. Try one! 10. Be your body's friend and supporter, not its enemy. 11. Consider this: your skin replaces itself once a month, your stomach lining every five days, your liver every six weeks, and your skeleton every three months. 12. Every morning when you wake up, thank your body for resting and rejuvenating itself so you can enjoy the day. 13. Every evening when you go to bed, tell your body how much you appreciate what it has allowed you to do throughout the day. 14. Find a method of exercise that you enjoy and do it regularly. Don't exercise to lose weight or to fight your body. Do it to make your body healthy and strong and because it makes you feel good. 15. Think back to a time in your life when you felt good about your body. Tell yourself you can feel like that again, even in this body at this age. 16. Keep a list of 10 positive things about yourself- without mentioning your appearance. Add to it! 17. Put a sign on each of your mirrors saying, "I'm beautiful inside and out." 18. Choose to find the beauty in the world and in yourself. 19. Start saying to yourself, "Life is too short to waste my time hating my body this way." 20. Eat when you are hungry. Rest when you are tired. Surround yourself with people that remind you of your inner strength and beauty. -Margo Maine

Love your body! It really is extraordinary.

Back at BYU.

I'm back at BYU tonight. JD's busy throwing Jeff's bachelor party (he gets married Friday!) and I needed to study for my big test in two days. I've been cramming so much the past few hours and my brain is starting to hurt from thinking too much. I feel so strange being in this library- on this campus really. I still have to pinch myself every few days. . . am I really a college graduate? Where did the time go? I must've missed my life. It feels like only a few weeks ago that I made my dad pull over at the "Welcome to Utah" sign for a picture on our way up to Provo with all my stuff for college.  Just weeks ago, I swear, I was dressing up for dance parties, seeing a counselor about what to do with my life, flirting with boys I didn't like to try and get over ones I really did, carving pumpkins, taking aerobics, spying on the guitar-playing neighbor boys across the street, and dreaming of being an EFY counselor and serving an LDS mission. And then, oh! The glorious summer. Wasn't it just weeks ago? I was serving queso with my favorite girls, staying up late to watch the stars, jumping on the trampoline, receiving flowers, letting my heart learn to love again, soaking in the sun with my sisters, and sharing my faith with someone new. Weeks ago, really, I was moving in with 5 new girls, having roommate basketball wars, discovering a profession that totally intrigued me, fighting my head for what I knew in my heart, going country dancing, dressing up in themes for Halloween, inviting a boy home for Christmas, and accepting a marriage proposal. My life plans changed. I was pushing my emotional and physical limits working with a hard population, planning a wedding, fighting my fears, living with my future in-laws, and preparing to go to the temple. Weeks ago, I was making a promise, using a passport for the first time, painting furniture, seeing a boy in the nude, managing bills, adjusting to having a new family, and cooking meals for two. Oh! how the time has flown! I am back at BYU tonight and my thoughts are skipping and dancing in and out of old memories. The test I take the day after tomorrow is the capstone of my academic growth and learning at this university. I'll get a degree in the mail in the next few days. Hopefully, I'll get a license to practice what I've learned. But more than anything, what I'll take from BYU is a deeper, more powerful understanding of my Savior, a stronger faith in Him, a handful of friends who mean more to me than words can express, a collection of experiences and life lessons to buoy me up in hard times, a strong work ethic, and a profound appreciation for God's hand in my life. My BYU experience didn't turn out exactly how I imagined it, but it was beautiful and wonderful nevertheless. And, tonight, my heart is full.

Learning.

When our car broke down in February, I freaked out a little. When JD's laptop (our only one) powered down for the last time this weekend, I freaked out a little more. Things we need a lot keep seeming to crash. I feel like I am going to crash.

Being an adult is hard sometimes. It's hard to manage rent, phone bills, and unexpected break-downs. Especially when you're working a lot and getting paid a little.

And by little, I mean not at all.

Thank you, internship.

I have 4 weeks left until graduation. I haven't been going to classes this semester. . .but I sure have been learning a lot. Of course, I'm learning about treatment goals, steps in recovery, symptoms of depression, how to keep good notes, when and how to process, ways to be creative, how to build families, and why relationships are essential. But, more than that, I'm learning how to depend on the Lord, how to let go of things I can't control, how to lean on my husband, and how to take care of myself.

I'm learning how to avoid crashing. I'm learning to enjoy life, and not just endure it.

And I have just a little hunch that this learning won't stop at graduation. . .