Look

OK, friends and neighbors and the world in general, I've a great teaching moment here. I graduated from college and actually used my degree in special education. Add to that that I have 3 adult children and one teen so I really do know a lot about teaching kids.

I've tried to teach all of the children I've taught to be kind. I TRY to be kind, too. So please take this in the kindest way possible. I think many Americans need to go back to kindergarten. So many things on this list are forgotten among adults. I'm going to focus on the last three today. Let's start at the last, shall we? 

LOOK. 
Look around you. There is so much beauty in the world. Allah, God, Mother Nature, a Big Bang, or whatever you believe in, is around us everywhere. I'm thankful for that and you should be too. 
Now, for those of you who don't know what Dick-and-Jane books are, they are easy reader books for beginning readers. Dick is a boy. Jane is a girl. They learn to look, run, etc. When you learn to read you kinda get clues from looking at pictures. Dick-and-Jane books have pictures to help beginning readers. They aren't stereotyping per se, they are teaching by picture examples.
I'm assuming you all reading this know how to read and I'm not going to provide picture examples for what I'm going to teach today. So look at the pictures in your mind as I teach this concept.
Look...there was once a movie called Kindergarten Cop. In it a little boy (I'm going to assume it was a boy from what he was wearing and his physical appearance, it really doesn't matter his gender, though) tells the Kindergarten cop that boys have a penis and girls have a vagina. Everyone laughs at this straightforward explanation but this kindergartener has summed up gender quite succinctly. 
Can you picture the difference between the two in your mind? See why I'm not including pictures? But it is pretty obvious when you see naked people, no matter their age, what gender they are. 
Look...we cover those gender identifying marks up in American society (some of us anyway.) Still, it's pretty obvious to infants even, the difference between the genders even when they have clothes on. You can try to fool those babies. You can try to fool kindergarteners and elementary aged kids. You can try to fool all ages but sometimes we can tell you are "fooling". Not by looking under your clothes but just by your mannerisms and build and voice, etc. It's not just the color of clothes you are wearing. 

BE AWARE OF WONDER
In American society it's ok to wonder but not always out loud. That might be confusing to kindergarteners because it's confusing to me, too, but that is the reality of America today. If you wonder something out loud it can be offensive. Why? I don't really know the answer to this one. You can ask me, I'll tell you exactly what I think, but some Americans get really offended. If you aren't sure what their gender is you aren't allowed to ask. They can wear whatever they want, sound however they want, say whatever, walk however, wear makeup, jewelry, hold hands or kiss whoever they want, and now they can even marry whoever they want. I know, this is confusing. 
It kind of contradicts the lesson we just learned before, doesn't it? If you wonder you want to look. If you wonder you want to ask. Be aware of wonder.
I wish medical research had learned this lesson a little bit better, it would have made it much easier for all of us. Why? Because with today's technology and medicine you can fool people so they can look and talk and even have surgery to fool everyone into thinking they are the opposite gender! Boys can take hormones to stop facial hair, to grow breasts, keep their voices from deepening and their Adam apple from enlarging like other men. Girls can take hormones to start facial hair, to keep their breasts from growing, get deeper voices, etc. Why? Just because they aren't happy with who they are! 
But wait, there is more. You can also have surgery to take out your female reproductive parts and male reproductive parts. I don't think we've yet discovered a way to transplant them if you really want to fool someone. Namely yourself. I really hope researchers learn this lesson before that technology becomes available. BE AWARE OF WONDER.

WE ALL DIE
Yep, the seeds. The mice. The goldfish. The other boys and girls and their mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters and the teachers and the friends and the pets. All races. All genders. All ages. All colors. That is sad but it is something we all need to learn.
Some people know when they are going to die but most of us don't. Some people are happy when they die. Some people aren't. This leads me back to the first lesson I tried to stress.
LOOK. What do you see around you that can make you happy? BHiBTBS. BHiBTBstupid, too. BHiBTfooling yourself and others. Or trying to anyway.

Now let me tie all this together for Americans especially. I'm not meaning to put anyone down. I'm trying to use this as a teaching moment, ok? 
A woman does not have a penis. Some men dress up as women. Some men wear makeup and "girl" clothes. Some men grow their hair long and pretend. They may even wonder too much and take hormones. But until they have the surgery to remove their penis and put women parts in themselves, they are still men just trying to fool everyone. (No, I'm not saying women who don't have a uterus etc are trying to pretend at womanhood.)
What are people who do have the surgery to remove parts but they still can't put the opposite parts in? Modern eunuchs? I wonder at that one, too. Sorry, I don't have the answer there. 
But look, Americans. Look Glamour magazine. You aren't fooling those of us who remember what we learned in kindergarten. Woman of the Year Awards can't be given to someone who has a penis just because he's trying to fool all y'all. 

Please, go back to kindergarten and learn the differences between boys and girls. Wonder. Look. And then remember we will all die. My hope is you can wonder and look at things that are helpful for you and your body and society as a whole. Because we'll all die. And I think those of us who are happy and love ourselves for who we are are going to do a lot better in the world than foolish people who have forgotten that Dick and Jane are two separate genders. The two aren't meant to be interchangeable. Calling yourself one is pretending. Changing yourself into the other is pretending. Trying to convince me that someone with a penis is a woman is down right offensive (in case you were wondering.) I'm not asking for the Woman of the Year Award. I don't deserve it. But neither does a man.

http://louderwithcrowder.com/brucecaitlyn-jenner-named-woman-of-the-year-still-has-a-penis/

A Day in the Life

Guess what I did this morning?!? I went to a Zumba "class"...with people other than family! It went like this:

A lady at church posted on FB and asked if anyone might be interested in going to the church on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and doing Zumba with her. Since I'm trying to get out more and be more physically active I said Yes.

Today was the first time. Was I nervous? Kind of. Why? Come on friends, you've seen my dance moves! But guess what? This time I didn't have anyone saying, "Can you turn that down? I'm trying to work and I have a meeting." or "Mom! Seriously?!" No one shaking their head and laughing "with" me. No eye rolls (at least none that I could see but I was so focused on the teacher's feet that there may have been some of that going on...but I doubt it.) I even got a, "Thanks for coming! See you on Thursday."

I must admit, though, there were only 4 of us. I was the only one without a preschooler playing in the back. I was the only one who made sure my shirt was long enough to cover the biggest portion of my "active wear". And when it was over and the rest of them sat on the floor to "stretch it out" I did my best to get my head down as close to my knees as possible while keeping my legs straight while still standing. Because sitting on the hard gym floor is not happening, folks. I might not have gotten up for a very very long time and it would have been painful for all of us. Me to feel and them to witness. So I held the door open while they put away the toys because I'm nice like that. :)

And then me with my super red face and sweaty active wear went to the library to check out some books. Ahhh, a day in the life. Aren't you glad you now know that?

Like it or not, wanting to know that or not, that is what is on my mind this afternoon. Now I think I'll go eat some pumpkin chocolate chip bread or something sweet. I need motivation to keep moving and not go lie down. And I need something to get me back to Zumba on Thursday, right? If I lose my problem areas then I might not feel like I need to go. Yeah right, those aren't going to disappear after one class. Even I am smart enough to know that.

Whatever, the pumpkin bread is calling and no one else is going to eat it. Plus, I already mentioned...it has CHOCOLATE CHIPS!

Harsh

Today's blog might sound harsh to some of y'all. That's not how it's meant but I can't help how you interpret my ramblings.

Let me begin by saying this...I have to learn A LOT of things the hard way. If you don't know how I injured myself this summer watch this:

Lisa's stupid Tarzan attempt
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZkVLxAhuTk

Unbeknownst to everyone, I chipped bone in my left middle finger and sprained my right middle finger. Going zip lining on a huge course a few days later was not the best thing to do but hey, it was fun. Until I fell off the last platform when the guide grabbed my hand and squeezed it too tightly. Good thing we all have safety harnesses on, huh?

Lisa giving Amos the finger
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsrY8JQTzC0

They've been still bothering me. Bad enough that I finally had them xrayed this week. And went to a hand specialist. I declined to then go to a physical therapist for stretching exercises because really, I'm cheap. I'm tired of doctor appointments. Besides, I can stretch my fingers just fine by typing and doing day to day living.

Which I learned is part of the problem with finger injuries. Those and elbows are the most common joints we use in our bodies so they can take up to a year to heal. Huh. I did learn after listening to well intentioned individuals (my pcp doctor and husband) that splinting a sprained finger is not the best thing to do for it since you are straightening it out and that is just putting more pressure and stress on that joint. That is why it will throb after a few hours and regular Advil won't touch the pain. Not even the heavy duty pain meds I have in my possession. So I unwrapped that bad boy because no way would I be able to sleep like that. And found out the next day from the specialist that I was correct. See? BHiBTBS. And sometimes being happy is smarter than well intentioned individuals!

If you don't follow me on FB then you missed today's post. I'll retell it here:

After spending all day in bed yesterday I woke up feeling like this first picture. Yep, a good 'ole fibromyalgia flare. But this time I don't have a chronic migraine (thank you infusion) so let's see how it goes. Had a jetted bubble bath (physical therapy because it hurts having the spray hit your muscles and tender spots), my goal is to make it to sacrament meeting at church, so this is as good as it's gonna get. Smile and fake it 'till you make it, right? Because church and feeling the love of my Savior is worth it. And now before I head off to church it's time for a Coke. Or a knock off brand, I don't even care. Judge me for having caffeine, judge me for not looking what you think is my "Sunday best", judge me for wearing white after Labor Day, judge me for whatever...I'm not easily offended. smile emoticon Hope you enjoy your Sabbath day, too.

I don't tell you this so you'll be sorry for me. I tell you this to let you know that I know what physical and mental pain is all about. I deal with a lot of it. Half of you are smarter than me...I have IQ tests to prove it...so you also know I have never and will never claim to be an expert on all subjects. (Though I DO know an awful lot about hair styling, some kinds of crafts, and health issues.) I know I may have fooled a lot of you and you won't believe that I'm not expert  in MOST things. I mean, you have seen me dancing. You do get to benefit from my storytelling, writing, and political view "skills". And pictures. And posts. 

I also post a lot about religion so I may seem an expert on that. Again, I say no. But I DO have a lot of experience in Christian living because I have lived that way my whole life. I DO know Jesus is real. He comforted me in His arms this spring when I had my weird reaction to the ketamine infusion. We did laugh and talk while I visited Him. He did tell me I needed to leave and go back to Dave. I had to leave the light. He practically picked me up and shooed me away. How do I know this? I wrote it down. Dave heard me saying, "Who is Jesus? Who is Dave? I don't want to live like this anymore!" (See above and previous posts as to why. No, I am not suicidal. I am a realist since I live with chronic pain and have for the past 10 years.)

Do you want to know how that last treatment has changed me mentally? Besides the lower IQ and memory loss, etc? It has changed me spiritually. My BF tells me I have definitely changed. I am not the Lisa she knew before the treatment. I think she means I am more forceful in my opinions. I'm less tactful. I think she's right.

I was told last week that I am too forceful in my opinions and too untactful in my comments on FB. So much so that a total stranger wanted to meet me so we could talk and she could explain why my comments were hurtful. Guess what? I jumped at the chance. 

Why? Because I really don't mean to offend people. I am at a point in my life that I really don't care too much what other people think about me. Now if I have food stuck in my teeth, please tell me. I hate that! If I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe or if I'm having some kind of wardrobe malfunction, please tell me. I DO care about that. But what you think of me personally if you don't really know me? I don't care. I DO care about your feelings, though, so I agreed to meet this lady at the house of a mutual neighbor. 

We spent 2 1/2 hours talking. They explained how they now know I'm not some white, Christian, middle aged, woman bent on hurting others but my comments could offend someone else in a situation where I might sound judgmental. OK. But isn't that what social media is about? Hearing other people's opinions? Getting advice? Or has FB just turned into something that you are only allowed to share and like? I don't know, I don't know anyone who has been personally fired because their boss didn't like their comments on FB. 

I spent some of that time explaining why I feel the way I do. They spent time explaining the way they feel and why. I'm not going to go into specifics, the mutual friend asked that I not, but let me just say this: Jesus is real. God is real. If you believe in Buddha, or Ala, or Muhammad, or whoever/whatever else, that's great. If your religious texts are telling you you are better than any/everyone else, those texts and leaders are telling you wrong. If I make you feel like I think I'm better than you...YOU are wrong. Let me repeat that: YOU ARE WRONG!

Does the truth hurt sometimes? Yes. Does life hurt sometimes? Yes. Are people bullied sometimes? Yes. Is EVERYONE misunderstood at times and offended? Yes. Can you learn to get over it? Yes. Will Jesus help you? Yes. Will faith in God help you? Yes. At least all of my answers to these questions are YES. 

If any of your answer to any of the questions are No, you are wrong. Ouch, did I really just say that?!? Yep. You are wrong and I feel sorry for you. I pity you. Most people I know don't like to feel like they are wrong...or that people pity them and feel sorry for them. (My dad was worried about that after I dedicated that post to him.) But I'm nothing but honest lately so let me tell you the truth...I pity you. I feel sorry for you. I love you but I don't mind telling you you are wrong. I KNOW these things. 

If you don't believe it I can't change your mind. I'm not going to argue about it, arguing doesn't change any one's mind. But some people have to learn things the hard way and you may be one of them, my friends and blog readers. It's much easier to take well intentioned advice from someone who has experienced it before you but you can't/won't always do that. I get it. But quit whining and complaining to us about how tough your life is if you won't listen and try new things!

Don't take my word for it. Try to learn about Christianity. But the best place to learn about it is from Christians...not Muslims, not Jews, not atheists, not witches, not those who don't believe in organized religion, not even by people who don't believe in the Bible. Why did I throw in the last one? Because the Bible is all about Christ! If you don't believe in the Old Testament you can't just decide to follow the New Testament. You can't say adultery is OK now a days because the Ten Commandments are only in the Old Testament. You can't say sin is OK because Jesus forgave sinners and didn't throw the first stone at them. You can't say Jesus only taught: Do what feels good to you and do only what you want or what you want to be true." Sorry, it doesn't work that way.

Jesus' main mission was to glorify His Father. He also came to save each and every one of us. That means me. That means you. That means Muslims, Jews, politicians, atheists, lawyers, teachers, all races, all ages, ALL OF MANKIND. 

Does this offend you? Then you are crazy! Nothing will make you happy. You'd better stop reading my blog, unfriend or unfollow me on FB, stop buying crafts from me, tell me to stop sending you emails, or whatever because I WILL NOT STOP! 

I will not stop declaring the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ! Not now, not ever. I KNOW HE IS REAL! I SAT WITH HIM THIS SUMMER! My pain is real. Your pain, whatever it is, is real. Your doctor can't always fix it. Surgery and medication and herbs and clean living may help but you can't run away from problems. Your mom can't fix it with a hug and a kiss. Neither can your husband, your spouse, your children, your pastor, your friends, or neighbors, or FB community, or family, or anyone else. Money, more love, more fame, a better job, a new car or house, etc isn't going to fix it either. Life is an individual journey. We came into this world as individual spirits (yes, even twins came with their own spirits...even conjoined twins) and we will leave this life as one spirit. 

That is truth. That is science (at least the kind of science I relate to.) You will be judged by the One true judge by what you thought, what you said, what you did. YOU and only you. Not by your abusive father/mother/husband/children/neighbor/... How you responded. Offended yet? Too bad! Someone has got to point this out to you. Someone who loves you and wants what is best for you. Really, that someone is ME! Why else would I risk losing your love and friendship? 

My pain clinic doctors have told me all the time about having "pain tools" in my bag of tricks for dealing with my issues. I'll give y'all some free advice...the best pain tool for whatever ails you is prayer. You've got a friend. You've got a Father. You've got someone who understands what you are going through and that someone wants to help you very very much. But He can't if you won't let Him. He will never make you. It's all your choice. And if you learn it and believe it once, He will not force it on you. You can always change your mind and go back to your original pain without Him. 

Stop being so stubborn. Stop being so proud. Stop being so ignorant. Being Happy is better than all of those things. The best pain tool I can give you is lds.org. 

Let me say it again...lds.org. Check it out. And quit telling me I am offending you. You are choosing to be offended. Sheesh, Americans are whiners and cry babies! 

Still, I'm proud to be a fat, English speaking, Christian, woman, middle aged American. Because I can choose what to say, who to say it to, if I want to carry a gun, what I want to eat, and all that other good stuff. And so can you. Enjoy it while you can. The grass may always seem greener on the other side. I say go and see for yourself if you are so unhappy and so easily offended. 

Just don't end your life to see how great it is after this life. You can feel that happiness and security right now. But it will take work. Faith, hope, patience, obedience, trust, learning...and a lot less feeling sorry for yourself.

And that is the message I want to leave with you this beautiful Sabbath day. I hope you were able to go to church. I did. And I sang and I worshipped. And I obviously blogged. 

Amen. :)

Dedicated to my Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday, he turns 70. I've already called and wished him a Happy Birthday; the whole family of 3 of us now, sang him Happy Birthday, actually. He and his wife, Tammy, are on their way out to spend the day at Amish Country. Not bad for an old man of 70 years, huh?

My dad wouldn't want me to brag about him or play him up but guess what? This is my blog and we all know I'm gonna do and say whatever I feel like on it. So sit back and get to know some things about this country boy.

Al was born in Kentucky and he lived poorly. Think about it, folks, this was 1945. Most people had indoor plumbing and bathrooms. I own a 1920's farmhouse built in the mountains of VA and it has 2 full bathrooms. My dad's first house had zero. He used an outhouse. But that was normal to him so no big deal.

His dad wasn't a very good example. Just the opposite, actually. He was an alcoholic, he ran around with other women, and was gone most of the time. He didn't provide too well for his family...at least not in legal ways. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Now my grandma was another story. She was very loving and my Dad worshiped her. He still does. While he was still in elementary school, they packed up and left Kentucky to live in an apartment in the city in Ohio. His mom was pregnant and this was not good news. Dad was 8 years old at the time, the youngest of four, and his mom was already ill with other health problems. Pregnancy was making her even more sick. (I learned a few years ago that her kidneys were failing her.) Can you imagine a young boy living pretty much alone with his mom since his dad was gone all the time and his older siblings were all out of the house by that time, seeing his very pregnant mom getting carted off on an ambulance stretcher? She grabbed his hand, told him she loved him, and reminded him to be a good boy, and that was the last time he saw her alive.

My grandma died within days of giving birth to a little girl. The baby died days later, too. They were buried together in the same coffin. Little Al had lost his best friend. And guess what his Dad did? Took him back to the hills of Kentucky and left him with an old neighbor "for a little while so he could figure things out." That was the last little Al saw of his dad because he stayed with those old neighbors for years. My grandpa took off and never came back! Can you imagine?

Eventually Al's siblings took turns taking care of him but that wasn't easy for anyone. They were married and having families of their own. Al got shuttled around a lot, even living with a high school teacher who believed in him and wanted to help and also members of his church. He never lived with his Dad again. When he would see him things were strained, to put it mildly.

Al did well in school. When he graduated he wanted to serve a mission for his church but he didn't have any money to pay for it himself. At that time they had what they called work missions. Poor young men could be called somewhere in the US to help build buildings and whatnot. My Dad jumped on the opportunity. Many of the other young missionaries were poor and uneducated so my dad would be the one to read scripture to them. This was in the 1960's! So hard for me to fathom.

Remember, this was in the 1960's and there was something major happening in the US besides missionary work...the Vietnam War. The work missionaries were different than proselyting missionaries...they could be drafted. Al, now a young adult, was drafted and had to leave his work mission to serve in the Army. Here is his real army picture.

Do you want to know something amazing? A testimony for getting as much education as you can? Al was the only young man who knew how to type. He had taken a typing class in high school and so when the Captain or whoever asked who knew how, Al raised his hand. After boot camp, while all his buddies were getting called to Vietnam and other foreign sounding places, this young man was sent to Iowa. To process papers. Because he was the only one who could type. And I firmly believe that is why I am honored to call him my father today. He never had to go to the jungles of Vietnam and be a participant in active warfare. Phew!

While in Iowa he met a young lady working for the Army, Jessie. Long story short, they ended up getting married and soon thereafter my older sister was born. Afterwards they had fertility issues so I didn't come along until 3 years later. Those fertility issues must have vanished because there were 5 of us kids in all. Here is my favorite picture of me and my Dad from when I was a baby.

Times were tough for Al and Jessie. Neither of them had college educations but not many others did, either. Again, long story short, all I can say is that Al did what most fathers dream of...he tried his best to do better than his father and create an environment so that his kids could do even better than him.

Here is my favorite recent picture of me and my Dad.

And I've got to go. I love you Dad! Today of all days you are my 'ole favorite!

David Alan Part 2

I guess you could call this another "brag page" but that's not what I'm intending. Still, look at this guy and tell me he isn't adorable?!?

When I stopped teaching the IBS symptoms abated. That isn't to say everything was great right away from having a VBAC. Far from it. And nursing...shudder! I made myself stick with it for 6 months but this baby had colic. My poor neighbors would hear me walking him around outside when I got so distraught that I would try ANYTHING to help soothe him.

Unfortunately that ended up with me having to eat bland foods and only one glass of milk per day. And you know the weird thing? Dominoes pizza affected him but not other kinds. Yeah, it was a REALLY long 6 months for me.

I had my first run in with my pediatrician soon after I stopped nursing. Alan was odd in that he would not put anything in his mouth...other than his fingers and toes. He did not want a bottle, too bad little boy! He finally got used to that and I introduced him to solid foods quickly because he hated the bottle so much.

He would grab toys and/or candy from his sister but never put them in his mouth. I would set Cheerios in front of him. He would grab them and then cry because he couldn't/wouldn't eat them. He just didn't figure out how to actually insert food from the hands for a long long time. Weird but totally nice when I didn't have to worry about him choking. (Let's count the blessings, right?)

Back to the pediatrician run in...no I didn't forget. So I noticed that he didn't seem to be gaining much weight. He was kind of slower than normal on some of the physical mile stones, too. I brought it up at his 9 month visit and the doc picked him up and said, looking at baby Alan, "These new mommies. They always have to have something to worry about, don't they?"

So I didn't think much about it. Until I noticed he wasn't even crawling by 12 months and he was scrawny. At his year check up I found my voice. I told the front desk and the doc I would not leave until he addressed his weight. The doctor admitted he did seem on the small side. No, that was not good enough. I was adamant that I would not leave until he showed me Alan's weight progression on the chart. You know the one, where they chart it on an average growth wave showing what is normal.

It was then and only then that he realized my baby hadn't gained any weight from 6-12 months! NOW he was concerned and sent us in for testing. I made sure to get my records from him and his office because I told him I wouldn't be coming back. HE should have been telling ME I needed to be concerned.

After testing we realized that by not nursing and not giving him enough formula...too much big people food...he was not getting enough fat and/or calories in his diet. Yeah, chalk one up for a big time Mommy Fail! He had to start drinking 4 cans of PediaSure every day. He put on a pound in the next week and started crawling.

That stuff is really expensive and I couldn't afford to buy it. So you know what we did instead that worked? We gave him a bottle of 50% whole milk and 50% half and half along with table food. We just made sure he got the equivalent of 4 cans of PediaSure and it worked just fine at a fraction of the cost. And he was soon into a sippy cup.

But you know, be careful what you wish for. ;) That little guy was soon into everything and he was not nearly as angelic acting as he looked! Phew, that guy would scream and throw tantrums like his older sister NEVER did. So much for me knowing what I was doing as a parent.

But I kept babysitting, parenting, and plugging along. Until Dave decided that two was so much better than one that we should have another. And this time I wasn't quite ready for the next pregnancy!

To be continued...

Brag Page

I'm going to lift myself up and do a brag page right now. Why? Because BHiBTBS and I've learned a lot on how to make my current situation into a profitable hobby. How? Self learning, creativity, and loyal and appreciative customers. No, none of these are family members so don't even ask. :)

Yes, I will make something similar for you. Yes, you can comment or email me and I will ship and I will accept Pay Pal. And heck yes, I have many other "skills" I'll brag about if y'all want! (Probably even if you don't want!)

But today I'm also going to show you my biggest brag photo...my family.

#ShoutYourPregnancy
This is my response to the ShoutYourAbortion nonsense going on. I'm shouting/celebrating my 4 pregnancies. And my 4 beautiful children. Please friends, #ShoutYourPregnancy and let's show these women who have abortions that it isn't something to be proudly declaring to the world. Motherhood is. Even if it means placing your child in adoption.

I can show you pictures and tell you stories from my own personal family of all kinds of social and personal situations you might find yourself in. Unwanted pregnancy, getting married because of said pregnancy, wanting a baby so bad you adopt, getting a vasectomy reversed because you want a baby so bad, in vitro, hormones to try and get pregnant, single parenthood, biracial parenting, teenage pregnancy, yada yada yada. I don't know of personal stories of family members having abortions and/or cases of violent rape or incest. I doubt most of the people shouting and bragging about abortions have. That really is NOT the norm. I also don't have family stories of druggie daughters selling themselves on the streets or running away and prostituting themselves to survive. But I DO have stories of children being forced out of their home because of immoral behavior. So please don't tell me I don't understand the different angles of abortion. Do YOU have all of these personal experiences to draw on? I hope not. It isn't happy making.

Would I love family members any less if they admitted to having an abortion or wanting one? Nope. I can love you but not what you do/have done. (I also have a family member who is a convicted pedophiles. Also a family members who was rape and murdered in her own home. And you thought all Mormons/Christians led a peaceful prosperous life!) That applies to you, my online family as well.

I'm not judging you personally but I am judging your actions. I believe that is what Christ did and what he expects of us. Not to put you down but to try and help you from doing something like that again. Or to stop you from aborting a child of God right now and/or in the future.

BHiBTBS but following Christ is always best. Have a great day and let me know if you'd like me to share my developed talents. :)

David Alan Part 1

Today I saw a post on FB about earthquakes in South America. She mentioned her nephew serving a mission in Peru was in her prayers. Hmm. Remember those 4 kids I have? My eldest son, the one I did NOT name Ryan Nicholas, is now serving a mission in Arequipa, Peru. He has been there for over a year. Kinda made me want to google what she was referring to. Let me tell you about child #2 since I've greatly gotten off track when it comes to me personally.

Going back in time...here I was a young mom teaching special education as a first grade teacher while my husband went to graduate school. The love of our life, Jennifer, went to a babysitters nearby. (As a side note, did you know my first annual salary as a teacher was less than $17,000? No wonder there aren't many teachers who can survive on one paycheck!)

I honestly didn't know how I could love another child as much as I loved her. Is that bad to say? Parents, you probably know what I'm talking about. I hope so. So Dave and I decided it was time to extend our family. But this time I didn't get pregnant right away. This time I was already experiencing health issues that were vague. Irritable bowel syndrome. My first ever migraine. This was all AFTER giving birth to Jennifer. Let's also include my first trip to the ER with a fever of 105. That was our very first Father's Day as parents. Mastitis so bad I had IV therapy. They left the IV tube in my hand and I had to go to the ER everyday for 3 more days to get massive doses of antibiotics. I also had the "privilege" of every nurse and doctor in the ER wanting to come take a look. "I've never seen mastitis this bad in a human before! Only in a cow." Not quite the 15 minutes of fame I was looking for.

I also had laser surgery for ingrown toenails. First time for that. I also had a massive infection in a tooth that I had had a root canal on when I was 8 years old. It had abscessed when I was 16 and we thought whatever I had done then had taken care of it. Not so. I ended up losing the tooth and massive amounts of bone had been eaten away by infection. Thus I had to have a bone graft. They used ground up bone from cadavers to hopefully fool my body into regrowing bone there so I'd have something for them to adhere an implant to. After 6 months we realized that didn't take so I ended up with a bridge instead. I also had my first crown and tons of other orthodontic/oral surgeries. Good thing my husband's grandmother had a "Dollars for Scholars" account she would let her grand kids borrow from for college expenses. Apparently this qualified.

Anyway...I was getting pregnant and this time we were actually on decent insurance...mine through the school. But if I didn't get pregnant RIGHT NOW I was going to be in a pickle. You see, Dave was graduating and it was time for us to move on. Insurance for me as a school teacher would continue even after school was out in May but it would terminate in August when school resumed and I was no longer teaching. Uh oh. So we prayed. I was getting very nervous but wouldn't you know it, I got pregnant. But my due date was August 7th. Cutting it very close. And what if we moved away from Utah? We would no longer be in network so there goes insurance being affordable.

Teaching special ed while being pregnant wasn't too bad. Unless you count the one time my first grader head butted me while we were waiting for the school bus. I missed the next day because my body/uterus was not liking that. What was nice was that now I could get one ultrasound covered and we were able to learn the sex of this baby. Yay! Our first son. You know my debate on names but we decided to go with a familial name instead...David Alan. I didn't want to call him David or Dave, I wanted to call him Alan, but David Alan just seemed to flow better than Alan David.

Spring was rolling around, I was getting bigger and bigger, and more and more worried because now it was time for Dave to graduate. He HAD to get a good job with good insurance but what company would want to take me on? Talk about a preexisting condition! He had one GREAT lead, Intel, but it was in Oregon. I had never even considered living there but yet I cried as he flew out for his last interview. "It's OK, Lisa. I'll be fine and back in a few days." I had to admit that I wasn't crying because I was worried about his safety. I was crying because he HAD to get this job! I didn't want to deliver a baby and then turn around a couple weeks later and teach again. How's that for honesty?

He did get the job. He even looked at houses for us to live in while he was there. He found a new construction that was underway that we could actually afford. Strangers let him video tape their house in the development since their house was the same floor plan. But back then there was no Internet (at least not for me.) I told him to buy the thing sight unseen. My co teachers thought I was crazy. Are you kidding me? I was living in a BYU trailer, essentially a box car with walls and plumbing and electricity. How could I not love a NEW house? Especially one that I would get to pick colors on since it was still not finished??? I've always been a realist.

And even better, they would cover my preexisting condition. I think we paid maybe $10 for this baby. Ahhh! You want to hear something "realistic"? I was too pregnant to drive so I also got to fly to Oregon instead of driving with the truck loaded with our meager belongings. Play that pregnancy card for all it's worth, ladies! It helped that Dave's brother and his wife drove along with Dave and had everything unloaded before Jennifer and I got there. BUT...the house wasn't finished. It was unloaded into a top floor apartment about 45 minutes away. Yuck. You do what you gotta do, though, right?

Changing doctors with only a few months left in your pregnancy. Yuck. You do what you gotta do, though, right? I was pretty adamant that I didn't want another C-section if it were possible and this doctor would actually attempt a VBAC. I was young and healthy and he monitored me closely.

Can I just say that being pregnant while I was going to school was really tough. Being pregnant while I was teaching school and had a toddler was even more difficult. Especially there at the end when I was HUGE. In a new city, a 3rd floor apartment, no one I really knew, and a toddler to entertain during the day. Imagine our horror when I got put on bed rest. Uh oh. We had been attending the church area where our HOUSE was, not our apartment, so I didn't even know any of the local church ladies. Dave called and asked for help but we were told the names of ladies we could HIRE to watch Jennifer for us. That isn't usually the way it works in the Mormon church and you can imagine that paying two house payments just coming out of college was pretty tough. We ended up flying out Dave's mom to help. She was there 2 weeks but no baby came. My mom flew out next and that is when Alan finally came, right on his due date.

I'm not sure of how much detail I should go into about that VBAC. It was not pleasant. It wasn't working, either, so the doctor had to use a vacuum and help pull him out. He had a massive bruise on the top/back of his head for weeks and that caused some jaundice. Recovery for me was not as long lasting as a C-section but man, was it difficult from the trauma of giving birth. And nursing was no better. Men, the things you don't have to worry about! Women, some of you seem to have it pretty easy where this is considered. I did not.

And we moved when he was less than a week old. Into the new house. That wasn't quite done yet. But we were supposed to be out of the apartment by August 1st and they were doing us a favor in letting us extend a few weeks. The front door of the house didn't even have the deadbolt installed yet. My mom literally put a sock in it.

Can I just say here how much I love my mom? She was the biggest help. And so was Dave's mom. We never could have made it as comfortably without them. And now I had a dilemma. Being a homeowner had a lot more hidden expenses then we had planned on. Dave's "huge" salary compared to my teaching salary was not able to stretch as far as we thought. Wasn't it flattering when I called the nearby school and asked if they needed a tutor they could recommend to parents and they offered me a teaching position right there over the phone? I was certified, had experience, and school started in two weeks. Ha Ha! Flattering but so not gonna happen. So I ended up doing babysitting out of my home instead.

Let's end Part 1 here by showing you some pics of the adorable David "Alan".