I'm a Home Owner

Yesterday the hubs and I closed on our very first home. Finally! It seems like it's been the longest process ever. We went to our builder back in July and signed a contract for them to start building the home. Since then we've been on a roller coaster ride of the highest highs and devastating disappointments. Building a home is hard.

But it's been even more than that. The hubs and I have been renting for 10 very long years. Since we got married over a decade ago, we have lived in other's people's homes. Our first apartment was great, but we were on the bottom of a three story building and it sounded like our upstairs neighbors were bowling all of the time. Next we moved in with my grandma right after my grandpa died. She was scheduled to have hip replacement surgery and she needed people there to take care of her. Really, she loved my grandpa so much she just needed someone there to keep her going. During that stay at grandma's (which felt much longer than the 9 months we spent there), I got pregnant with our first child. Not wanting to raise her in my grandma's basement we searched and searched for the right apartment for us.

Even though we weren't looking in this area, the hubs and I were both drawn to a house we drove by almost daily that had a "For Rent" sign outside. I know we were meant to live there. Not because the tiny basement apartment was a great place to live. It wasn't. We were supposed to be in the ward we're in now. Words cannot express how much we love our ward and how the friendships we've made there have helped us progress to practically inactive to a temple recommend holding, sealed for eternity, kind of family. We lived there for one year in that tiny apartment under a pair of hard-partying drag queens and didn't like it much. My visiting teacher lived in a duplex owned by her parents and let me know that her sister and brother-in-law who were living there were moving out and they needed new renters they could trust. The size of the apartment was HUGE and we readily said yes. Our little girl was only a year old. We stayed in the downstairs apartment until our next child, our son, was 6 months old. My visiting teacher and her family moved into their house and we decided we wanted the advantages of living in the upstairs apartment (i.e. a garage and access to the backyard). Since then we had another child. So really, we became a family in this house. This house will be special for that reason. And so not special for many, many other reasons.

The journey to get here has taken forever. We've been through so much. I don't want to say we deserve a nice brand-new house because nobody "deserves" something like that. But we have worked so hard for it. We've prayed, saved, paid off debts, cried, and been disappointed. A year ago I remember crying to my sister saying that we'd never be in a financial position good enough to own a home. And now we're here. I wish I could fully articulate how long and hard this journey has been. How long we have waited to have a home of a home. How long we have waited to give our children a place that is safe, where I don't have to worry if they're playing in the front yard or walking to school. How it has felt to watch all of friends take this step, some even two or three times, while we stayed behind and rented. It has been very hard.

We started our married life in debt and have slowly accrued more debt because of medical expenses and such, and have spent the last few years slowly climbing our way out of debt. Our biggest debt was finally paid off (a proverbial monkey off our back) with the money my Mom left me in her life insurance when she died. If it hadn't been for us paying off that debt, we would have never gotten this house. So in essence, my Mom helped us get this house. My sister believes that my Mom had a hand in getting them their beautiful home they bought last year. I feel like my Mom is definitely in our lives still, watching over us, and being our angel.

Today we got our keys and we're moving in. Moving in and moving on to a new life. A better life.

Lose It - Week 26

Well peeps, this is the thing. I have way too many things going on in my life right now to count every calorie and worry about working out each day. Between moving into a new house after 5 1/2 years in our current place, an adoption this last week, Thanksgiving, another adoption hopefully taking place in a couple of weeks, and the holidays, I'm too stressed out to worry about continuing to lose weight. I need to just live my life right now. So for right now, I am suspending working on Lose It and writing about it in a regular feature on my blog until after the holidays. That should give me enough time to settle into my new house, concentrate on supporting another client through an adoption, and enjoying the holidays for once. In January I'm going to start again while I train for the Half Marathon in May. I've finally decided to do it again next year. This time when I take on Lose It again in January, I'm going to focus more on nutrition and building muscle and maybe even being able to start running for the first time in my life.

For the last time until January I stepped on the scale this morning and I gained 0.8 pounds. For that last month, I've either gained weight or stayed the same. That is okay with me. I've had a very, very stressful week. Yesterday we had a Thanksgiving dinner with my family and my Dad made the most delicious potato soup and pot roast. I'm surprised I didn't gain more! And if I did, it would still be okay.

I'm still going to monitor what I weigh and be thoughtfully conscious of what I eat, so that I don't gain weight, I'm just not going to actively pursue weight loss for right now.

I've been doing this for 6 months now and I've grown and changed in so many ways. Actively being present in your life and pursuing health instead of just merely existing day to day, is amazing. It's been an great journey. It's more than just the 21.6 pounds I've lost over the past 6 months. It about feeling empowered in my own life. On Saturday as I was packing, I was going through the pile of clothes that I had set aside that were too small for the children. In that pile I found a pair of black dress slacks and a shirt that I love, but discarded because they were too small. Now they fit again. Being able to reclaim something that makes me feel beautiful, well makes me feel even more beautiful. I've become stronger this past 6 months. In 2009, I changed my own life. I did a half marathon. I lost 21.6 pounds of grief weight. I bought my first home. A banner year for me, for sure. In 2008 I merely was just existing, trying to muddle through grief, pregnancy, and being a mother to 2 very active school aged children and a newborn. I feel like in 2009 I decided to really live again, and to me, Lose It has been much more than an app on my Ipod.

STRESS!!!

This is me right now. It has been a very stressful week. Right smack dab in the middle of an adoption this week, my agency replaced all of our cell phones. For an entire day I didn't have access to my contact list. Just when I need my phone most! I spend several hours on the phone with customer service just to get my dang new phone to work right. On top of all that we're moving. I literally spent 11 hours yesterday packing with hardly any breaks. If it wasn't for my great friend Kari and my in-laws, I wouldn't even be 1/2 as close as I am to having my entire house ready to transfer to a new house. Breath and Reboot. That's what I'm doing this week.

A question of Bravery

Recently, on a blog I read regularly, there was a post about Sgt. Kimberly Munley who is credited as being one of the civilian police officers who helped take down Maj. Nidal Malik at the Fort Hood massacre. The author questioned whether or not this 5'2" 125 pound woman proves that woman are capable of being effective in combat situations and whether or not woman should be allowed in the American military as combat soldiers. I expected a high spirited debate over this question, but there was something I did not accept.

One of the commentors actually said that what Sgt. Munley did was not brave! Please, all my readers who are police officers, will you tell us whether or not putting yourself in the line of fire, engaging someone in gun fire, and taking the gunman's attention away from the people he's shooting to you, thereby distracting said gunman from taking more people's live, and being shot 2 times in the process, is a brave thing to do? Whether it is your job or not.

Sgt. Munley was at the end of her shift and was washing her cruiser when she got the call that shots were fired at Fort Hood. I don't know what all her options were at that point, but I know she took the most difficult one where she put herself in harm's way to save others. That's brave!

When I argued with this idiot, they had the audacity to say that police officers and soldiers are not brave just like cancer patients are not brave for having cancer.

Well that did it. You don't step to me about cancer patients not being brave and not expect a verbal onslaught. In fact, I'm still seething with rage. I guess this person is entitled to their opinion no matter how idiotic, moronic, unsympathetic, hardhearted, callous, cruel, heartless, pitiless, cold, insensitive, uncaring, and devoid of any compassion it is.

I don't care what anyone says...Sgt. Munley is BRAVE! She's also one helluva woman who makes me proud!

Lose It - Week 25

In Defense of my Weight Loss:

When I started this journey 25 weeks ago the goal was always to improve my health. I never expected to come out of it looking like a super model. I don't look at fashion magazines and berate myself for not having the bodies of the women in the ads. First of all, I know most of those ads are photoshopped to begin with and holding yourself up to an impossibly physical standard of beauty is just crazy. Second of all, I don't have a typical model's figure. It would be an unachievable goal to think I could starve myself down to a size 0. Even at my skinniest I was a size 6. And that's perfectly fine with me. I love my curves. Most people believe that Marilyn Monroe was the sexiest woman alive and she was a size 12. That's good enough for me.

Throughout this process I've come to love my body in a way I never have before. And I don't mean because I've lost a lot of weight or suddenly I look "good." I thought I was hella fly before. I mean because I finally realize the power my body has. When I crossed the finish line at that half marathon I felt like I had just been beaten up. I hope when I cross the finish line next year I don't hurt as much. I've had asthma my whole life and I have let it hold me back. I told myself over and over again I could never be an athlete, that I could never do anything physically active. I let myself fail at sports to prove to myself that I couldn't do it. It was easier to give up or not participate than to try and fail. But now I can run for 90 minutes on the hardest program on my elliptical machine and it barely phases me. I feel great afterwards. I feel strong. I feel healthy. It makes me believe that I don't have to hold myself back anymore. I don't have to make excuses. I can be physically strong as well as mentally and emotionally strong.

As I mentioned before I started Lose It to get healthy. There is nothing healthy about sitting on your butt, never doing anything physical (not even a walk around the neighborhood) and never eating a fruit or vegetable. I'm sorry, there's just not. And that was what I was doing before I started training for the half marathon last January. Every time I go to the doctor and have to give my family's health history I feel doomed. Just my mother's health problems alone are daunting. I've had more than one nurse or doctor say, "you're poor mother." The two closest females to me genetically have both had cancer. That scares me. It has been proven that eating healthier foods and exercising help fight off cancer. I don't want to leave my family at a young age. I want to watch my children and grandchildren grow up. I want to grow old gracefully and healthily. Not wanting to get cancer is the reason why I wear sunscreen and don't go to tanning salons. If I'm going to protect my outsides, shouldn't I protect my insides?

I also am slaying a personal demon by losing this weight. Two years ago when I had just graduated from college and didn't have a job yet, my Mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer. With no school and no job to distract me, and my two kids in school, I had nothing better to do than sit on my butt, barely mentally functioning, eating Oreo cakesters. This was my coping mechanism. This is how I survived. I've never been an emotional eater. I've never turned to food for comfort in this way before. As a result I gained about 25 pounds. I then got pregnant and was able to concentrate on something besides my mother's death. In essence, this weight loss is symbolic for me. It's a shedding of pain. It's telling the cancer that took my mother it cannot beat me. It will not win. Every pound I lose it one step closer to slaying the beast.

So am I happy about losing weight? Hellz yeah. I finally fit into all my old clothes from 3 years ago. I'm happy at the weight I'm at now. I feel comfortable in this body. So if I continue to lose weight as a result of working out, I'm going to let that happen. I'm going to let my body figure out what is the best weight for itself.

This journey is only about me. I'm not trying to tell others how it needs to be for them. I think that whatever size you are doesn't matter as long as you're healthy, happy, and you love yourself.

Now, to get to the business at hand. I stepped on the scale this morning and I didn't lose a single ounce. That's two weeks in a row with no weight loss. Which leads me to believe one of three things. One - this is the weight I'm supposed to be and should now worry about maintaining it. Two - it's winter now and it's harder to lose weight in winter because your body starts preparing to stay warm and builds up fat stores. Or three - I'm under A LOT of stress right now with work (2 potential placements in the next couple of weeks) and the move and it's hard to lose weight when you're under stress. It doesn't matter because I'm happy at this weight.

I recently read a poem by Maya Angelou that really spoke to me. I want to be a "Phenomenal Women."

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder

where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit

a fashion model's size.

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

it's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I am a woman,

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman.

That's me.

Rock on peeps, on to week 26.

Home

Today we ran out to our new house so the hubs could measure the windows for blinds. As we walked in the front door as a family I had an overwhelming feeling like we were coming home. It was awesome. As the hubs measured all the windows, I took my daughter around and started showing her where everything would go. That was a lot of fun. She told me where she wanted the furniture in her room. We then mapped out the boys' room. I took the two older kids to the bathroom they will share and told them what would go in the drawers and what not. They had so much fun they made me do it in my master suite.

Planning out where all the furniture was going in the new house and discussing it with my kids felt really right. I don't know how to describe it. We been praying this house into existence for years and I can't believe it's finally going to be ours. I also noticed all the things my toddler likes to get into. Like opening the rolling drawers in the island in our kitchen. And turning on the faucets on the tub in the master bathroom. He also had a fun time taking off all the white rubber ends to the door stoppers and sucking on them. I'm going to have to do some major toddler proofing.

It was so awesome being in our house together as a family today. The kids and I laid on the carpet in the living room and talked. My 8 year old daughter talked to me about being sad about leaving her all her old friends at her old school and how she is worried about making friends at her new school. I assured her that we were going to go to church for a solid month before she started at the new school and that would give her a good amount of time.

What I love about the new neighborhood is seeing all the kids playing outside. That is nothing something you never see on my street now. The snow was falling pretty heavily today. There were some young kids who were riding their sleds down a hill on the vacant lot next to us. That warmed my heart. This is a place where my kids get to grow up surrounded by children their age. I'm excited for them. I'm excited for their future. I'm excited for us. I'm excited I can finally give my family what we've been working for and saving for all these years.

Mama, I'm comin' home.

Looking forward to the future

In the matter of a week and a half, I'm going to be a home owner. Wahoo! The hubs and I have worked very hard for this day to come. It's been really hard to watch all our friends and even family members purchase homes while we stayed behind and rented. We have loved the neighborhood we live in now, and especially our church community, but we both feel like it's time to move on.

This is our house. We watched it be built from the ground up. We got to go and pick out everything on the inside. Right down to the style and color of our cabinets, the type of granite on our countertops, and paint. It was a lot of fun. Now we're getting ready to pack and move in. It has been a struggle getting this far. One fraught with ups and downs, disappointments and successes. And that's just been building the house!

A couple of Sundays ago we invited the hubs' brother to come look at the house. He got there first and found two hoodlums had walked in (one of the contract workers left the door in the garage open) and used our house as a haven to smoke pot. I made reference to it in this post. Brother kicked them out and then wrote down their license plate number and the description of their car. He then called the county sherriff. The police came and walked the house. In our daughter's bedroom closet they found a tin box with a baggy of pot, a pipe stuffed with pot, and a bowl. Later that night they called us and let us know they caught them and the hoodlums admitted it. The city attorney just happens to be the hubs' best friend. So not only did they leave their pot behind, they admitted to it, and then get the almost owner's best friend as the prosecutor. Dudes, you picked the wrong house to smoke pot in.

The hubs and I finally feel confident enough in our situation to announce that we will be moving. The house is about 10 miles west of where we live now. Luckily we'll be in the same school district. Unfortunately the kids will have to change schools half way through the year. And my son will have to go from all-day kindergarten to half-days. I think it will be a good move for our family. I'm so excited to move to a place where there are a lot of kids, nice neighbors (we've met a lot of them and they've all been extremely nice and welcoming), and one where I'm not afraid to let my kids walk home from school. I'm excited to have a stable place where we can call home and raise our family.