Wow. Life can be tough. It is February 10th, 2016.
We woke up this morning (Doug, Isaac, Lucy, and I) so the kids could get ready for school and I could get ready for my doctor's appointment, complete with ultrasounds. The doctor's visit was good in that the baby looks perfectly developed. The visit was tough because I had gained several pounds since my last visit and I feel so frustrated by all the weight gain. I have been on the "Feeling Great in 8" plan for a month, which invites drinking a lot of water, sleeping for at least 6 hours a night, reading the scriptures, praying, working out for 45 minutes a day, eating healthy foods and staying away from foods that aren't as healthy. I haven't adhered perfectly to the plan, but I feel like I have done an amazing job--way better efforts than I ever made in any other pregnancy--and I've still gained at least 6 pounds in 4 weeks. I hate how my weight gain feels beyond my control without going to more excessive measures (limiting my portions, counting calories, etc.)
So there's that cloud hanging over my head all day, mixed with the knowledge that there are worse things in the world than gaining weight during pregnancy. I'm trying to be "big" about this.
Anyway, fast forward several hours, and Isaac starts tossing his tortilla chip dip casserole under our table during dinner. His plate passes inspection, and I only discover all that food under the table as I am cleaning up. I ask Isaac if he did it and he adamantly denies it. I keep asking him, and he keeps denying it. Doug grabs a silver mixing bowl and my kindle, sticks the bowls on Isaac's head, and gives him a lie detector test. Isaac lies at first and then breaks down and confesses. We punish his for throwing the food on the floor (dishes for two days) and for lying (I took away the eight million toys from his headboard shelving), and then we hear him sobbing downstairs. That is one of the hardest things to hear. Doug goes downstairs and plays with other toys with Isaac to help him realize there are still things to do. The crying stops.
Then, kind of recovering from the Isaac drama, Doug and I hear Cason screaming in his bed. Doug goes in to check on him and Cason has thrown up. I bathe Cason while Doug cleans up the bedding and gets it in the laundry. I change the sheets, put Cason back to bed. . . and he starts screaming 10 minutes later. He has thrown up again! I bathe him again while Doug cleans up throw up (I did ask Doug if he wanted to switch jobs) and then we finish our routine, I rock Cason to sleep, put him down, and begin typing this.
In Maslow's hierarchy of needs, we learn that people need to have food, shelter, and clothing before they can even think about other things like religion and social concerns. I know that if my life were harder, I wouldn't mope about gaining so much weight because it wouldn't be a top priority. I doubt that Mindy, my next door neighbor with stage 4 cancer, has worried too much about being thin and trim since being diagnosed with cancer.
So what can I do to be the person I want to be, to "forget myself and go to work?" I guess I just keep working to serve others with a cheerful heart, pour mine out in my blog and my journal, and to Heavenly Father, and move forward. I am so incredibly thankful for the food, clothing, shelter, marriage, family, jobs, and joys in my life. I have been given so much. And we will survive. Actually, I just finished the Book of Revelation today. It doesn't look like survival is certain. But through Christ, all will be well. Bye for now.
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