tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33469828085528997202024-03-14T00:05:55.287-07:00Morgan MikelMorgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-83415987487354563182018-06-15T15:03:00.002-07:002018-06-15T15:03:45.281-07:00Don't Settle for ComfortableLife is constantly evolving and changing.<br />
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No one lives in total stasis forever. Everyone has a period where change is gradual. Maybe you finally graduate from school and look back at how far you've come. Maybe you're a parent and you look back to see how your family evolved. Sometimes you go to work day after day, not feeling the changes for years. Everyone has those times.<br />
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Everyone also has times when life changes seemingly overnight. One day you're cruising through life, the next you're dealing with a major tragedy. Sometimes it isn't a tragedy. Maybe you finally get pregnant after years of trying. Or maybe you get that job that will finally free you of call center life. Some changes happen in an instant.<br />
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Change can be great! or really terrible... But no matter what kind of change you experience, you adapt. So you're going to move out of state to attend that dream college, you pack up and adapt to the new world around you. Maybe you break your leg and have to reschedule that boating trip. We constantly adapt.<br />
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When you have depression, adapting seems impossible. It feels like you aren't capable of adapting properly. Even with medication. Heck, even the medication itself feels impossible to adapt with you. The key with depression medication for a lot of people is consistency. Find what works, do that...forever. You take it the same time everyday, with the same drink, followed by the same meal. It's hard to want to mess with the flow of things. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?<br />
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Sometimes, that's not possible. And it can feel like you have to choose between your medication and living the life you want. I've found that a lot of people with depression put their lives on hold because it's not easy to find a new solution when you have one that works. Sometimes it feels like once you find a sweet spot that you cannot stray for fear of falling back into the same difficult spot as before.<br />
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I feel ya. I take a medication that is also used as an appetite suppressant. (I just use it as a depression medication.) Lately, I've noticed I haven't been putting on weight when I really need to be. In fact, when I should be gaining around a pound a week, I've actually lost a pound. (Not a pound a week, just a pound over the past few months.) I don't have those pounds to lose. I need them!<br />
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This week, I've had to really think about what could happen in the next few months if I don't gain the pounds. After Google searches and WebMD articles, I was beginning to think that I had to make a choice: be depressed and gain the weight, or continue the medication and suffer the physical consequences.<br />
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With the sudden spike in celebrity (and non-celebrity) suicides, mental health seems to be on everyone's social profiles. People are pleading with one another to seek help, to know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel that allows you to accomplish your dreams. I have one friend in particular that draws to visually express what depression and anxiety feel like to him. I was looking through some of his images and laying in bed when it hit me.<br />
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I've said it multiple times that there isn't one solution that fits all. There isn't even one solution per person! There are many solutions per person! I really like the solution I had been using: Citalopram, BuPROPion, Ginger and B6 in the morning with the milk left from my cereal. I remember to do it if I follow the same routine daily. I know exactly how my body will react. It's comfortable.<br />
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It stopped being comfortable when I got dizzy every time I stood up. It stopped being comfortable when my pants were getting loose when they should be getting tight. It stopped being comfortable when I felt like I had to choose between even taking the medications or not.<br />
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I don't know what thoughts got me to realize that I don't HAVE to do it that way, but I did realize it. I don't <i>have</i> to take the medication in the morning. I don't <i>have </i>to eat cereal with it. (I do prefer to drink milk with the pills though because the taste of the ginger makes me gag.) I can take the pills at night! Would that solve the problem? I didn't know. What I did know was that with modern medicine, if this didn't work then something else would.<br />
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By taking the BuPROPion at night (and all the others because it's a habit to do it all at once) I was hoping my appetite would return by morning and I could spend the day eating everything in my sight. I've only done it one day. So far, it's worked. I woke up this morning wanting ALL the food! I wanted toast, and cereal, and milk, and hot chocolate, and crackers, and soda, and bread, and water. In fact I still want all those things.<br />
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Even better than just getting an appetite back, I'm not depressed. The depression didn't return just because I created a new routine. My brain doesn't care what time of day I take it as long as I take it each day.<br />
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The point of this story is, depression is difficult. It can make you feel like you need to choose happiness or life. That's not true. The truth is, modern medical knowledge has given us the chance to create a plan that works <i>with</i> our lives, not against them.<br />
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You still should probably cancel a boat trip if you break your leg, but you don't need to hold off on applying to that college or job just because you have a comfortable routine. It's scary because you know what's at stake, but in truth nothing is at stake except your happiness. I don't mean the opposite-of-depression happiness. I mean the happiness that comes from living the life you want. You can live in a comfortable stasis if you want, or you can adapt your plan (with help if you need it) and you can live the life that inspires you, that brings real joy to your day. The life that you are here to live. Don't settle for "comfortable."<br />
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With that being said,<br />
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Here is the last picture of M I had on my Android phone. (My husband switched us to Apple for security purposes and I haven't taken the time to find my pictures to use them here.) </div>
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This is the life that brings me joy. He is the life that brings me joy. His excitement, his love, and even those rare fits. They are my happy. and I don't want to have to choose between that and "comfort." </div>
Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-65214170321249368062018-03-01T22:33:00.000-08:002018-03-01T22:33:58.857-08:00When The Sun Comes OutHave you ever walked on a tightrope? Yeah...me either. But I feel like I'm walking the depression tightrope.<br />
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After numerous doctor appointments, therapy sessions, and trying a million vitamins I have finally found a combination that works for me! When I first took one of the depression tests (with the numbers) I scored 28. The doctor told me 0-5 is "normal." Clearly I was way out of that range. I took one of those tests again after a month of medication, probiotics, and specific vitamins. I scored 3. 3! Can you believe it? THREE! Best score of my life! It has felt like the clouds have parted, finally!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was Walk the Moon that <br />first gave me butterflies.</td></tr>
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If you have depression or anxiety, you know that most days are grey, mucky, and just blah. Once in a while you'll hit a day when the sun peaks through a little, and you immediately do everything until you collapse with exhaustion. Then the clouds set in again. It seems like there isn't an end in sight.<br />
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I've been there. Literally, just a few weeks ago I didn't think there would ever be a way to feel "normal" again.<br />
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I first noticed how "normal" I was when I got butterflies from a favorite song. Since being hit with depression, music has just been noise I used to keep my mind busy. I have loved music for most of my life. The moment I realized how music affected me again after so long, I was floored (and then I had to work hard not to floor it in my Mazda...). It wasn't just music either! Movies!! I saw Black Panther twice because <i>I</i> wanted to! When we see movies twice, it's usually because Rich wants to, and I just enjoy tagging along. But this time, <i>I </i>wanted to go. I loved every second of the movie both times. That's not what I'm used to.<br />
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Music, movies, crafts, TV, sleeping, sexy time with my hubby...everything is suddenly so amazing. I feel fully connected to the world again! It's incredible to wake up every day now!<br />
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It's also scary. I worry that it will all fall apart and the clouds will return. It's been more than a week of feeling connected. It's hard not to feel like I could fall off this tightrope at any moment and plunge into the depths of depression again. I have to always reassure myself that it's all working and if it doesn't I have enough resources now to work it out again. As much as we all wish our depression or anxiety would just disappear, it doesn't. As we become "normal" again, the memory of the depression, the fear of it coming back, never leaves. It's a small price to pay, though.<br />
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The sun coming out again is worth every effort. There are a lot of people (including myself) who think certain things won't work for us. I avoided therapy for a long time. I didn't feel like there were things that I needed to "work out" with a stranger. Guess what! I was wrong. I didn't have any pent up issues that were particularly dragging me down, but my therapist gave me so many tools to smoothly navigate day to day problems. Plus, I really like her now. She doesn't feel like a stranger.<br />
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Some people don't want to use medications for one reason or another. I, personally, don't like the idea<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daily pills, neatly organized. </td></tr>
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of filling my body with synthetic medications. I do like the idea of enjoying life again, though. Plus, my doctor has given me other things to help along side the medication so that I don't have to use as much. He did a full blood and oxygen work up to be sure there weren't other things making me tired and causing a chemical imbalance. We discovered I'm vitamin D deficient. So he put he on some prescription strength vitamin D. As I mentioned before, I also take probiotics daily.<br />
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One of my medications (the Wellbutrin) makes me nauseated. My doctor offered me three options:<br />
1. Go back down to a lower dose and see if that helps with the nausea without taking away the things I need it for.<br />
2. Take an anti-nausea medication along side my regular medication.<br />
3. Take a ginger and vitamin B6 supplement every morning (and throughout the day as needed).<br />
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I chose door number 3. The vitamins and ginger. It helped immediately.<br />
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It's true that you might need more than one type of medication to help get you through. I take two different anti-depressants, probiotics, ginger, and two different vitamins daily. That's what it took to get my chemicals balanced out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's my sun. </td></tr>
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If you aren't comfortable with a treatment plan a doctor recommends, either tell him/her or find a new doctor. Ask around and see which doctors specialize in depression. You can try as many different doctors as you need to find the one that fits you (as long as you aren't looking for narcotics at each different doctor). Same with a therapist. It might be true that you don't have any pent up issues from your childhood. But maybe, just maybe, they can offer you tips. One thing that helped me was that my therapist pointed out that if I'm on an anti-depressant and I'm still depressed, then it isn't working. Sounds like common sense, but I was so used to cloudy muck that I didn't realize there even could be sun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And he's my son. (bu-dum-tss)</td></tr>
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What I'm trying to say is don't give up. More than that, don't settle. Don't just try one option and give up when it doesn't work. It's a different experience for everyone. I take a slew of things to help. You might only need to take one, or none! Maybe you need vitamins, or maybe you need more oxygen at night. Maybe you just need to empty the junk drawer in your mind. Each person experiences depression for different reasons, but we all want out for the same reason. Depression sucks. It takes away your life, it ruins relationships, and it holds you back. You are capable of a lot. Don't let the clouds make you forget what the sun is like.<br />
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Pull out all the stops and dive into your own treatment plans. Don't write off any suggestion until you've given it a solid go. Find the sun in your life again.<br />
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<br />Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-7446475135593103462018-01-29T20:14:00.000-08:002018-01-29T20:14:23.491-08:00Diet and DepressionThat's literally what I googled after talking to my doctor.<br />
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I had been taking one anti-depressant and going to therapy to find the way out of this depression. It wasn't working. I was still fatigued, and blah, and feeling that not-sad-but-still-really-down-for-no-reason feeling. After trying for months to kick it with what I was doing, I went to a new doctor (because of insurance purposes; I loved my old doctor).<br />
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With <i>many </i>recommendations, I found a great new doctor. We talked about what I was already doing and then we came up with a game plan. One of the things he mentioned was a diet. Not a diet to lose weight, but a diet to change the vitamins my brain is absorbing.<br />
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We tried a B12 shot. I was not B12 deficient, so that didn't help. Doc also recommended probiotics. He briefly mentioned that there have been recent studies that show our diets are linked to the way our minds work. (That's one of those statements that once you hear you think "duh!")<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The study divided the participants into two groups:<br />Support group only, and dieters.</td></tr>
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M wakes up at 3 am, almost exactly every night. Whenever I have to get up in the night my body thinks we're up for the day. In these moments, when I can't sleep, I google. (Did you know that some spiders hibernate during the winter just to protect their babies?)<br />
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After visiting Doc, I googled "Diet and Depression." There were some results from 2014, but I feel like that was too long ago to be relevant. Then I found <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/diagnosis-diet/201702/clinical-trial-finds-diet-works-depression" target="_blank">this bad boy!</a> (Mind you, all I know about Psychology is what google has taught me, but a website called "Psychology Today" seems legit to me.)<br />
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To sum up the article, a clinical trial in Australia found that what you eat is directly linked to your depression. What?! It even explains that it's not just <i>any</i> diet, but this specific diet that doesn't eliminate all the goodies. (My depression would greatly increase if I couldn't keep eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.)<br />
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The diet the article states the study used a diet called the ModiMed diet. The best part of this is that it's not a major lifestyle challenge! Not for me anyway.<br />
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<b>The ModiMed diet</b> (according to this article):<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4vfLR0LC92w/Wm_waI2rPxI/AAAAAAAAjDw/23hCdkz6V-0CP8jHvDUo2VnoTuyINKNhACEwYBhgL/s1600/SmartSelectImage_2018-01-29-20-34-01.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="585" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4vfLR0LC92w/Wm_waI2rPxI/AAAAAAAAjDw/23hCdkz6V-0CP8jHvDUo2VnoTuyINKNhACEwYBhgL/s320/SmartSelectImage_2018-01-29-20-34-01.png" width="259" /></a><b>Encouraged foods</b>: whole grains, fruits, vegetables, legumes, low-fat/unsweetened dairy (not doing great on this one), raw unsalted nuts, lean red meat, chicken, fish, eggs, and olive oil.<br />
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<b>Discouraged foods</b>: sweets (yeah...), refined cereals (no comment...), friend food, fast food, <br />
processed meat.<br />
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<b>Beverages</b>: maximum two sugar-sweetened beverages per week and maximum two alcoholic drinks per day, preferably red wine.<br />
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Way easier than a full sugar free diet! You aren't <i>encouraged </i>to eat sweets, but moderation in all things, right? ;)<br />
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Rich and I have been sort of doing this diet, mostly we have been taking probiotics. Let me tell you, the NEXT day I felt a difference. KID YOU NOT! It's been more than a week of taking probiotics and I have not needed to take three naps a day! Know how many dishes I've gotten done? (None!) but I could do so many dishes if I wanted!<br />
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Remember how last post I said there are two sides to fighting depression? This would fall into the chemical aspect of depression. I highly recommend taking probiotics, and getting with your doctor to see what else you could be deficient in. It could be something as simple as B12, or something else that you can help by taking a vitamin. The best part is, with vitamins you don't really need to have a doctors orders to take them! So I say you should do it. Start poppin' those vitas!<br />
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Take it one day at a time. Fighting depression is a unique experience for each person. Some need more therapy, some need prescribed meds, and some just need to eat better (you know who you are). Don't be afraid to tell your doctors that what (s)he's suggested isn't working. They won't be offended (and if they are, find a new doc).<br />
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And just to cheer you up, here's a pic of M fighting exhaustion during lunch:<br />
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-50600945294661118732018-01-25T19:24:00.000-08:002018-01-25T19:24:49.089-08:00Day To Day With DepressionPeople living with depression know the biggest battle is the day to day. It's like your cup of energy has a hole in the bottom. Every night, when other peoples' cups get refilled, yours just drains back out. It's the worst. You can't even "borrow" energy from the next day. There isn't anything there!<br />
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Not having energy fuels the depression. You aren't able to accomplish even the simplest of tasks without needing some down time. There isn't energy to complete your homework, do the dishes, wash your laundry, or even showering sometimes. Imagine not being able to accomplish those simple every day tasks while the world goes on around you. It's defeating. It can make you feel like you aren't capable of anything, which can lead to worse thoughts.<br />
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It's common for people with depression to use medication to help balance the chemicals in the brain,(I have to take two to counter each other's side effects...) but there are some small things you can do to help feel like you are still playing an active role in your own life. For me, getting out of the rut of exhaustion and defeat took a while. I want to share three things that have greatly helped me.<br />
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The first is to prioritize. You don't have to do this daily. Once you prioritize once, it kind of all falls into place the next day. It did for me anyway.<br />
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<b>Prioritize</b>: There are three types of tasks: Essential, Necessary, and Good.<br />
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I had one Essential task. Take care of M.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes, this is my entire day. </td></tr>
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My Necessary tasks were things like eating (yes, that is hard to do when you don't have energy and you're out of your favorite cereal), showering, brushing my teeth, etc. Just the basic needs of myself.<br />
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My Good tasks were all the other things: dishes, cooking dinner, laundry, tidying up, etc. If it didn't endanger us (germs), or endanger my marriage, then it was listed under "good."<br />
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The second is the Five Minute Rule. No, it isn't about eating food off the floor, that's the Five <i>Second</i> Rule. The Five Minute Rule is designed to help you make baby steps toward accomplishments.<br />
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<b>Five Minute Rule</b>: Pick a task you need to do. It can be anything! Dishes, laundry, throwing out trash, doing homework, showering, etc. Do that task for five minutes. If at five minutes you feel like you <i>can</i> continue, then do it! If you don't feel like you <i>can</i>, then stop. Simple as that.<br />
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I emphasized the word "can" because sometimes we feel like we <i>have</i> to finish our tasks. Don't feel obligated to finish anything.<br />
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I used the five minute rule to do my laundry and dishes (I know I have used those as an example a lot, but those were the biggest things for me). After five minutes, I often realized that the tasks didn't take a lot of energy. Once in a while they took way too much energy and I stopped doing them. I ended up building up about four weeks of clean laundry to put away.<br />
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The third thing is about yourself. It's very easy to get caught up in feeling obligated to fill the needs of others, especially in a marriage with a baby! But it is critical for your mental health that you do things for yourself. At first I felt incredibly selfish setting aside time for myself. I mean, M can't do anything on his own.<br />
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<b>Take Care of Yourself</b>: Every day do two things: one you find enjoyable and one that makes you feel accomplished.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My "accomplishment" task,<br />washing my hair. </td></tr>
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It's hard with depression to enjoy things like you used to, or like other people do. I get that. At first my enjoyable things were watching a TV show, or playing a game on my phone. It's since evolved into writing in my journal (which has always been my favorite thing), and talking more with Rich. (Depression takes a huge toll on marriages. Communication is both important and difficult.)<br />
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Sometimes, with depression, the activities that make you feel accomplished seem to pale in comparison with those you see on social media. People are off buying homes, traveling the world, getting married, having babies, retiring, graduating! All these great things and your idea of accomplishment is to shave your legs. That's great! It's not about the size of the accomplishment or how it would look on social media. It's about how you feel. Feel accomplished dusting? Great! Way to go!! Feel accomplished folding your blankets? Awesome! Keep doing it! It does not matter what others might think about your accomplishments. <i>Your </i>opinion is the only one that matters in this.<br />
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I realize that I am lucky enough to have a husband who understands my struggles. He hasn't experienced it, but he's understanding, patient, and supportive. I know not everyone has someone like that in their life. Know that you can always message me, and I will support the heck out of you! Want to brag about folding those towels? Heck yeah I'll listen, I'll even applaud!<br />
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You can work through the day to day. You can pull yourself up. You are strong enough. You are capable. What you are feeling is not uncommon. You are not bad at life. You are not imagining your depression. You can do this!!Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-35129915762034102592018-01-16T21:21:00.002-08:002018-01-16T21:21:42.215-08:00A Story Without An EndPeople often share their experiences after the fact, whether that's years or even just days. Sometimes the experiences are too painful to share in the moment, but most times it's because we crave endings. We need to know everything turns out okay. That's why the bad guy always dies in the last film, and the good guy always gets the girl. Hollywood knows we need endings. (Hitchcock did not think we needed endings... I still stew about "The Birds.") I'm one of those people who needs an ending. That's why, I realized, none of my previous blog posts really seem to convey what I am thinking.<br />
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This journey I'm on hasn't ended. I can't write in the past tense when I talk about depression, transitioning to stay at home mom, and many other things. It's not "I <i>had</i> depression." For me it's "I <i>have</i> depression." It's "I <i>am</i> learning to handle being at home." Not "was." It's still happening, right this very second.<br />
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I want to share this journey but it's hard. Not because the experiences are hard, but because there is no ending yet. I can say I went to the doctor. That's neat. It's still inconclusive at this point but it's still neat I guess.<br />
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The stories that reach into people and connect with them have endings. They either have endings that make us feel good or endings we relate to. We can relate to the pain of losing a loved one after a long battle. We can also relate to finally getting that breakthrough job you've worked so hard for. As humans we love those stories because of the hope they give us. Hope that hard things come to an end. Hope that we too can smile after the storm passes. But that's not the point of the story I'm in.<br />
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I'm in the middle. There are stories I have that have ended, and I could write about those, but most of us aren't dwelling on our endings. We're focused on our middles (some of us go to the gym to work on our middles even!). I don't go through my day thinking "Oh my gosh, I'm so glad that two years ago that person apologized for hurting my feelings years earlier." While I do like that neat ending to a rough story, I live my day by thinking "okay, how can I get to an end in this?" We all do. Each story in our lives does come to an end, but before that we have to muddle through the middles.<br />
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My story, right now, isn't "I beat depression!" It's not "I have mastered being a stay at home mom! Bring on some triplets!" It's "How in the world do I do those dishes when I honestly can barely get up?" It's "I love my baby with all my heart, but man this is tough stuff!" I'm still figuring out how to boost my brain chemicals, how to change the way I act and think so I am not self-sabotaging, and how the heck I'm going to tire M out enough so I can nap too!<br />
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My middle is filled with doctor appointments, crying, and way too many chocolate oranges. It's trying to medicines. It's learning to backtrack and overcome anxieties. It's pajamas all day. It's forgetting to get the plates from Grandma's for three days in a row.<br />
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I want so badly to reach out to other women, to let them know that life is one big middle. That they aren't alone. That those neatly packaged stories happen to everyone, just at different times. Those who share complete stories had middles. They had tears. They had pajama days. They had moments of utter loneliness. Their dishes got dirty. They wore grungy T-shirts just to avoid doing laundry. And some of them are still doing it, because they are in a new middle. There will never be a time in your life when all the stories close at one time, just like there won't be a time when you finish your shampoo and conditioner at the same time. As one story ends, you'll find you were already in the middle of another this whole time!<br />
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I'm going to try to do my best to share my middles, so you know you aren't alone. I feel like the posts won't make sense, they won't be satisfying. There's nothing less satisfying than being unable to see how the story ends. In order to get to the end, though, you have to go through the middle. I want you to be in the middle with me. I want you to see that I don't try to crop out dirty dishes in the kitchen for Instagram. I want you to see me in the same shirt two days in a row because changing is just too dang much effort. I want you to know that at the end of the day when you realize your forgot to brush your teeth after breakfast, I'm right there with you. I want you to know that this is all of us. Those "fitness goal" girls you follow on Instagram don't smell nice after they sweat. They stink just like the rest of us. The "make-up goals" ladies? They don't do that every single day. Can you imaging the time they would spend daily just to look like that?! They would never have time to do dishes either! All these women that you look up to, that you admire, they have middles. We all have middles. Let's finish our stories together, middle after middle after dreary middle.<br />
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And because no post is complete without at least one picture of M, here you go!<br />
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Note the mess at the top of the picture? That's my life, every day. So don't feel bad if I don't invite you over; I just don't want you to crush the puffs into my carpet and I don't have it in me to vacuum. </div>
Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-71156596458925269582018-01-03T23:29:00.001-08:002018-01-03T23:30:56.077-08:00Momming on a ScheduleMy daily schedule before M:<br />
-Wake up<br />
-Eat<br />
-Do whatever<br />
-Eat<br />
-Do more of whatever<br />
-Eat<br />
-Sleep sometime<br />
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M's daily schedule:<br />
9:00 AM - Wake up<br />
9:30 AM - Drink a bottle/watch PBS/Play with Toys<br />
10:30 AM - Cuddle Mom<br />
11:00 AM - Nap<br />
12:00 PM - Wake up<br />
12:30 PM - Eat lunch<br />
1:00 PM - Play with toys/try really hard to scoot under the couch/stare out the window<br />
2:00 PM - Nap<br />
5:00 PM - Wake up<br />
5:30 PM - Eat Dinner<br />
6:00 PM - Play with Dad/try really hard to scoot under the couch<br />
9:30 PM - Bedtime<br />
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My schedule now that M is here:<br />
9:00 AM - Wake up and eat breakfast<br />
9:30 AM - Watch PBS<br />
10:30 AM - Get cuddled<br />
11:00 AM - try to decide when to go run errands/try not to fall asleep<br />
12:00 PM - Change M<br />
12:30 PM - Feed M<br />
1:00 PM - Try to teach M how to play with his toys/rescue M when he gets stuck under the couch/stare out the window<br />
2:00 PM - Lay down with M to get him to fall asleep quickly<br />
5:00 PM - Wake up and realize you accidentally slept the day away again<br />
5:30 PM - Try to find something appetizing for dinner<br />
6:00 PM - Try to get rid of the "nap hangover" while M plays with his dad.<br />
9:30 PM - Be wide awake while everyone else is tired and sleeping<br />
12:00 AM - blog about it...<br />
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Guys, I seriously have no idea how to schedule myself so that I feel productive, fulfilled, rested, and headache free.<br />
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As you can see from my afore mentioned daily schedule before M, I have never lived on a schedule. In fact, I still have nightmares that I forget to go to class because I was busy doing other things. I'm notoriously late to everything in life (including my own wedding). I'm not sure how to schedule things. I feel like I need a big planner that just has each day broken into hours that I can hang on the wall. That way I can write "Shower" at 11:00 AM while M sleeps, or "Fold the Laundry" during that long nap period in the evening.<br />
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While that is a logical thing to do, it feels so...regimented. I like to just "do whatever". Do I write that in during a period?<br />
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And right now M is really emotionally needy. His teeth are coming in, he's at the stage where he wants to be mobile but can't quite figure it out and gets frustrated easily, and he's having Dad withdrawals since Rich had to go back to work this week. What if I write "do dishes" on my day and I don't do the dishes? I realize that nothing will happen. The world won't suddenly come to a halt, but I'll feel a little...lottle...guilty.<br />
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I realize moms aren't meant to be superheroes that can do everything while maintaining perfect hygiene and a smile, but sometimes my inability to schedule things makes me feel a little useless as a mom. Yes, I am here emotionally for my family. That's great, but also I don't feel like it's enough.<br />
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I thought one solution would be a scheduling app beyond Calendars. One that reminds you of To-Do list items and has a widget that lives on the phone home screen. I've tried dozens and none of them feel right for me. Mostly because I don't check off the items and then they blare on my screen and make me feel like I'm behind in life. I also don't like having my phone tell me what to do. Someday AI might take over and boss me around, but for now I like to feel like I have some autonomy left as a mom.<br />
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What I'm picturing I need is a white or blackboard on my wall. A large one. Big enough to write all the To-Dos I have for a week or two. Then I could organize them by Urgent, Necessary, and Someday. Then as time allows I can use the nap times to check off the ones that I have time for, and organize our awake times to get the Urgent and Necessary ones done that are outside of the house.<br />
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Guys, this might just work! I might have solved the age old problem! (age old meaning 8 months old for me.)<br />
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Now I know you all come to this blog just to see cute pics of M, so here are a few to satisfy your M cravings.<br />
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Isn't he the cutest kid ever? I don't know how we can have other kids after this one. We kinda hit the jackpot with him. (And to any future kids of mine who read this, I'm kidding, and I think you're just as perfect as M.)<br />
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-70554753977768810312017-12-27T21:31:00.000-08:002018-01-03T23:30:28.327-08:00Unboxing LifeI have been MIA for a while. I think that's how most of my blog posts start. Either I need to just expect to not blog often, or I need to be better about doing it regularly. I'll figure it out eventually.<br />
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Or maybe I won't.<br />
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That's who I am.<br />
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There's a reason I've been missing, though. I haven't known what to write. I wrote this profound post about having PPD and dealing with that. People responded to that. So I wanted to write another post people would respond to. No one wants to be a one hit wonder. Worse than being a one hit wonder is being a one hit wonder that doesn't know when to quit. That's why I stopped writing.<br />
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M keeps me up at night sometimes (he's got two teeth coming in at once...), so I have spent many nights trying to craft the perfect viral post about motherhood and life. The post would have the right amount of wit, life-altering advice, and a cute ending. Everything to make a post be shared a million times. Then I realized, that's not why I write.<br />
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That one realization opened up a rabbit hole of thoughts. Why do I write? What do I want to say? What's important to me? Who even am I?<br />
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The answers started simple. I write because I love to, because words are art to me. I want to say things to make the world smile. My family, my church, and chocolate oranges are important to me. I am Morgan.<br />
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That last answer was a little harder to come by. I <i>am</i> Morgan, but what does that <i>mean</i>? After I asked that question, a whole new wave of self-awareness and self-evaluation washed in.<br />
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Morgan is a mom. What is a mom? A mom keeps kids going. She organizes the house. She can cook dinner. She has cute decorations for every holiday. She gets up and actually gets dressed in the morning. Some moms work out to maintain a figure they like.<br />
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Of those things, I keep the kid going. (I can cook, but it takes more effort than I want to admit.) So I don't belong in the "Mom" box.<br />
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I'm in my mid-twenties. What do people my age do? A lot of my friends have hobbies they actively do (rock climbing, cooking, painting, traveling, etc.). They spend time with friends. They stay up late. They go to every movie possible.<br />
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Of those, I go to movies. Only because Richi goes to movies. I don't have time to regularly spend time on hobbies. I barely have time to brush my teeth! So I don't belong in the "Mid-Twenties" box.<br />
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I have a few favorite TV shows. What do people who have favorite TV shows do? They obsess. They wear TV gear. They don TV jewelry. They quote TV.<br />
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Of those, I barely wear the clothes. I wear Dr. Who, Marvel, and DC socks. Clearly that's not my box either.<br />
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I'm LDS. What do LDS individuals do? Well, we serve. We use kind language. We go to 3 hours of church (not a typo, church is 3 hours). We love everyone around us. We have more kids than can fit in a small school bus. We abstain from alcohol and smoking. We're Christians.<br />
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Of those, I do all but the kids thing. I don't have a bus load of kids, and I don't plan on it. So I belong in the<br />
"LDS" box. That seemed like it would be the end of my soul searching, but it isn't.<br />
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Truthfully, I haven't come to an end of soul searching.<br />
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I've heard several talks, or speeches, or sermons, or whatever you to call it, about not putting people in boxes. There's a specific video that comes to mind when I talk about that. A bunch of people who appear similar (having tattoos, or wearing hijabs, or having long hair, etc.) stand in boxes together. Then people read out things people have experienced or qualities that make up a person. The people then leave the first box and go stand in a new box together. You can see how all of them get mixed together. The point of that is to visually explain why we shouldn't judge people and box them based on how they look.<br />
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I feel like that applies inwardly for me, though. I have been trying to fit myself into one box. I'm a mom, so I should be like all moms. WRONG. I watch movies, so I should be able to quote them. Yeah, NO. I don't belong in any box other than the one labeled "Morgan." And not just any Morgan. Me Morgan. I know a handful of other Morgan's and we definitely couldn't all be in one box (but I'd love to be in a box with Morgan Freeman).<br />
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So that's where I am. I am working on unboxing myself from all the preconceived ideas of who I am based on one aspect of my life. I won't write profound posts. I won't always know what to say. Chances are I won't cook dinner as often as Richi would like (but he cooks too sometimes, so it's not a big deal). You won't see me sporting a Deathly Hallows necklace. That doesn't mean that those who do are wrong, or that I'm wrong. We're just living in our own boxes. Sometimes the boxes overlap, and sometimes they don't. That's okay.<br />
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Now that you read all the words about me unboxing my life, let me give you a brief update about life as a stay-at-home mom with M, what M has been doing, and how much fun double teething has been.<br />
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M has officially been out longer than he was in. He's 8 months (remember he was early).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZZ7TyLho_c/WkSAs1Z58II/AAAAAAAAiAU/AI9fKd3BiWwUtQvLHbefpTxQwlI822jnACKgBGAs/s1600/20171227_192919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZZ7TyLho_c/WkSAs1Z58II/AAAAAAAAiAU/AI9fKd3BiWwUtQvLHbefpTxQwlI822jnACKgBGAs/s200/20171227_192919.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuddling up, watching PBS, battling a cold.</td></tr>
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In the last month he has sprouted two teeth. TWO! Both bottom teeth. I'm grateful for that. He can only half bite me. I'd probably have a lot of finger piercings if he had top and bottom teeth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Munching his stocking gift.</td></tr>
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This was his first Christmas. He enjoyed eating all the paper. He also likes his toys. He got some books and looked through them a handful of times. He has some clear favorite toys, but seems to enjoy each of them.<br />
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We sleep most the night, but he insists on sleeping in a bed with me. Not because he wants to cuddle. He just wants to be close. He loves his space and loves to sleep spread eagle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoping for warmer days.</td></tr>
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Being home with him all day, every day, is equal parts amazing and draining. I'm used to having a schedule that takes me out of the house, but now we do a lot of indoor activities and hardly ever leave. It wears on me. I'm looking forward to the weather warming up so we can go out back and swing, or walk to the park, or even just drive to Grandma's.<br />
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For now, we'll keep binge watching PBS and learning all about dinosaurs from "The Dinosaur Train."Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-88169115988835766492017-10-03T23:01:00.000-07:002017-10-03T23:01:34.913-07:00Creating Morgan: Just Say NoI don't believe in "finding" yourself, but I do believe in creating yourself and this month I discovered that I haven't been creating the person I want to be.<br />
<br />
My whole life I have told myself the same small lie over and over again. "I can do that." Until recently, I could do that! And that! And that! I could do it all! Or I thought<br />
I could. The truth is, I can't do that. Or that. Or that.<br />
<br />
Can I be a room mom for D's class? Yes.<br />
Can I be art coordinator? Yes.<br />
Can I work part time? Yes.<br />
Can I take care of M and give him all the cuddles? Yes and Yes.<br />
Can I assemble a cabinet for my grandma? Yes. (Even those pesky Ikea ones.)<br />
Can I start a personal writing business? Yes. (Will it go anywhere is a different question.)<br />
Can I make and sell wreaths and other decor? Yes.<br />
Can I cook dinner? Yes.<br />
Can I visit a sick neighbor? Yes. (With a medical mask and hazmat suit on. I ain't about getting sick.)<br />
Can I give Rich all the loves in the world? Yes.<br />
Can I do all of these things at the same time? No. Not even close.<br />
<br />
My whole adult life, I've prided myself on being able to do a lot of things at one time. I learn very quickly. I can multi-task like you wouldn't believe. I feel like there is nothing you can throw at me that I can't handle. (Except a hot potato. I will <i>not</i> handle those.) Doing many things at once has often earned a lot of praise (and some negative reactions, haters gonna hate, right?). Part of me lives for that praise. We all live for praise.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How B feels about building<br />cabinets.</td></tr>
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Being able to go to art, go to work, cuddle M, craft, write, care for people and build cabinets has always been one of my greatest strengths. (Keep in mind, I don't do these exact things every day. That would be too many cabinets.) I thought it was my greatest strength. Until recently when I realized I'm not happy doing it. I enjoy it. I feel accomplished, but I don't feel like I'm going where I want to go.<br />
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"Your habits sculpt your path." (Farshad Asl) That's not something we think about as we are living our habits. It's not something <i>I </i>have thought about while living my habits. I don't eat cereal daily and think "yes, this is forming a nice path to being a cereal connoisseur." I have thought about the path I am on, though.<br />
<br />
I have thought about who I want to be, the kind of woman I want to grow up to be. There are a lot of role models in my life and several more throughout history. Lately, I've felt like I'm on the wrong path to become like those women. It's felt like I'm on a parallel path that will never reach the same destination as a path I want to be on. It took me a lot of late night thinking to realize what's wrong. My habits.<br />
<br />
I have a habit of being late. Everyone who knows me knows I run ten to thirty minutes late, minimum. If you want me to be somewhere on time, tell me to be there at an earlier time.<br />
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I also have a habit of not fully completing projects. I have a lot of pieces of projects sitting around. I have the materials to make some cute Halloween wreaths, but I just haven't put them together.<br />
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Another habit is messiness. Poor Rich probably goes nuts because he's such a neat person and I'm so messy. I'm not a slob where I leave trash on the floor, but I also don't ever put my shoes away. It's lucky if I remember to empty the dishwasher, or get M's clothes put away (or my clothes).<br />
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In all honesty, I have lied and told myself that these are signs of me being busy. They are the quirky consequences of a busy lifestyle tending to others. How wrong is that? Talk about "fake news." Being messy, stressing out my husband, is a sign of not thinking about his needs. (He did not tell me to say that, to be clear. I want to put his needs first.) He hates emptying the dishwasher. We agreed that it's the one job that is just mine. He loads, I unload. It's a team effort. But he then also does the laundry, the sorting, the folding, the hanging, the gathering of the shoes. He does it all. And what do I do? I blog about it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere in there is Rich's<br />guitar. </td></tr>
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Our little office is a disaster. And it's all my unfinished work. This is his space, too. This is supposed to be a place where he can work on his dreams. Instead <br />
it's a place to hoard my bad habits.<br />
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Unfortunately, I don't know that I will ever be able to be on time to things. But the rest of these problems, I can fix. I can fix them by changing my habits.<br />
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I've prided myself on saying "yes" to tasks. ALL the tasks. Run an errand? Yep! Build a cabinet? Yep! (That cabinet is on my mind. I need to get it finished.) Feed M? Yep! Listen to all three boys tell me about school at one time? Yep!<br />
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I continually lie to myself and say that these are the things that make me happy. They aren't. I don't have anything against any of them, but not everything I do makes me happy. I love to spend time with the boys and be a part of their schooling. I love cuddling M and watching him grow up. I enjoy crafting things from my imagination.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This </i>is what makes me happy. </td></tr>
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What I don't enjoy is seeing the stress in my husband's eyes because he's too tired to pursue his dreams. I don't enjoy eating with chopsticks because all of our forks are dirty. I don't tripping over my own shoes in the middle of the night. I don't enjoy being so tired that by the time Rich and I have a moment alone, it's <br />
spent talking about how tired we are. This is not the path I want to be on forever. It won't be.<br />
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People who are familiar with my tardiness also know I'm terrible at goal setting. It's sadly another product of trying to do too much. Instead, I set action plans. This is my action plan: Say No. That's it. No.<br />
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No, I don't have time to be art coordinator. No, don't buy more fake flowers. No, don't do all of those things.<br />
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It's going to be hard. It already is hard. Just typing the action plan was difficult. Habits take a lot to break. All of the things I like to do are good things. But all things require moderation, even the good things. I'm thinking about tomorrow. I have work. Then I have one parent teacher conference. I will also build that cabinet to get it off my mind. That's it. I have all that extra time. My mind immediately wants to fill the space. I could read. I could go to the library. I could go on a walk. I could work later. I could build more cabinets. That list of things relaxes me. But I can't do all of those things. I need to stop telling myself I can.<br />
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I need to say no. So I will. It is <i>not</i> failure. It is <i>not</i> weakness. It is how I am going to be who I want to be in 50 years. It's trading in my "jack of all trades" title for something better. It's putting Rich and M before myself. It's being a team player.<br />
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It's creating the Morgan I want to be.Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-23910730805458005362017-09-19T21:00:00.000-07:002017-09-19T21:00:48.312-07:000-200 Challenge: FailedI don't know that I would really say I failed. I didn't finish the challenge, but I didn't just give up. So that's a win, right?<br />
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The first two days of each activity (squats, sit ups, and push ups) went great! Then it hurt. Which is what exercise does. It hurts. But then my insides starting burning. That's when I remembered I had a C-section five months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, but my body disagrees.<br />
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I didn't consider a C-section major surgery because I was awake for it. They numbed me of course, but I didn't think about how they took my insides out and then put them back. That's a little bit of a major surgery. My scar healed wonderfully, and my insides felt like they were back to normal, but I guess they aren't yet.<br />
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So while I didn't finish the challenge, I also didn't complete it. Will I return to it in the future? Probably not, but never say never, right? (I have said never to a lot of things, and I regret each and every one.)<br />
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I posted "before" pictures, but I don't really have any "after" pictures.<br />
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This is as close to an after photo as I have. I don't have any of my full body. I can tell you, though, that my hair did grow half an inch, so there's that! </div>
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I did learn from this, though. I've always been someone who just "pushes" through. This is the first thing I didn't just power through. I listened to my body (it screamed, so it wasn't hard). I feel a little bummed that I didn't finish the challenge. How cool would it be to be able to "drop and give me 200"! It's a lot cooler right now to be able to walk and hold M and not be in pain. Maybe next year I can do a challenge that won't hurt, like eating a Popsicle a day or fold my laundry in a timely manner. While only one of those is a real challenge, I can probably pull both off. </div>
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For now, I'm going to enjoy the fact that M and I are both alright 5 months later. I'm going to enjoy our nighttime cuddles. (I use cuddles lightly. He kicks me all night and leaves me with about two inches of bed space.) I'll also be enjoying my new gig as a volunteer writer for the <a href="https://justbrowsingopl.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Orem Public Library</a>'s blog. What I'm trying to say is that I'm not too upset about not being able to do 200 sit-ups. (Though, the abs of steel would have been great!)</div>
Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-47518951623475151032017-09-16T21:35:00.000-07:002017-09-16T21:35:05.879-07:00STEPtember; the Halfway MarkSo we aren't quite halfway, but we're close. I've been stepping for nearly two weeks. It has been an interesting two weeks.<br />
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During the first week I struggled with finding a groove. That first day was exhausting. I ended up pacing the kitchen to get the last 900 steps in. It was a good experience though. Rich and I took the opportunity to talk and come up with an action plan towards his personal goals. If I hadn't paced the kitchen, we wouldn't have given ourselves that opportunity. (I also discovered why people want heated floors. Is it possible to get frostbite from kitchen tile?)<br />
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Rich and I had the chance the second day to take my cousin to Salt Lake City. This gave us the opportunity to walk around City Creek and Temple Square in order to get my steps in. (Spoiler alert: I didn't get them in.) At Temple Square one of the hosts gave us a pamphlet. I didn't really need a pamphlet, but I carried it anyway. I actually forgot I was holding it when I went to rub my nose. I have never been more worried that I was going blind. That pamphlet jabbed my eye pretty solidly. My peripheral vision was a little blurry, and it hurt to blink. But we did get this great picture of us!<br />
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It looks like I'm squinting because of the sun...I'm not. It's because I have "pamphlet-eye."<br />
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The next few days were rough physically. My cute shoes that I love to wear are <i>not</i> made for walking. I felt a twinge of betrayal when I discovered blisters on my heel from walking around Utah Valley University.<br />
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I wish I could say that was the worst of it, but I feel like the following days were worse. It's easy to avoid getting blisters when the problem was the shoes It isn't easy to avoid having your legs turn to jelly when you promised to walk 10K steps a day. If muscle pain from exercising is the muscles growing stronger, then I will have legs of titanium soon. For a few days there I debated learning to walk on my hands to give my legs a break.<br />
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The second week provided different opportunities. At work, we take a moment and walk around the building (and our neighbors' buildings). Our office is right on the Provo River, so the walk is always enjoyable. I look forward to our walks. We go in groups and it's given me a chance to get to know my new office-mate. His personality contrasts my last office-mates personality in the most extreme of ways. It's been a treat to get to know him in a slightly different setting than our office. While the walk is still work-life, it's a little more relaxed and we get to talk about things other than filing insurance papers.<br />
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I haven't hit my steps this week at all. But I decided it was less about the 10K and more about the awareness and opportunities. (I must be tired. I have used the word "opportunity" more times in this post than I have in my entire life I think.)<br />
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There's a quote out there somewhere about how walking helps the brain process thoughts. It's the action of moving forward that allows the thoughts to flow more freely. I agree with that. Taking all of these walks has really allowed my brain to process a few things. Rich and I have been able to get started on his dreams. I've been able to enjoy my surroundings more. During my long walks I also am able to "find myself." I'm able to think about where I've been, and where I'm going (like from one of the park to the other...just kidding). After taking this challenge, I feel more confident in who I am, who I want to be, and what I want to accomplish. (No, Steptember isn't about me, it's about those living with Cerebral Palsy, but there have been some other great side-effects of walking so much.)<br />
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I'm already thinking ahead to October, and I think I'll keep my pedometer on. I won't aim for 10K steps, but I still want the challenge of getting up and out for some quality thinking time. (That idea might change once I walk another 160k steps. That's how many I have left to complete this month.) If you don't hear from me again it's because my legs gave out and I'm stuck somewhere wishing I had learned to walk on my hands.Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-29585757649220205542017-09-10T12:36:00.000-07:002017-09-10T12:36:31.749-07:00PPD and Me; pt. 2 - Authenticity Most of you know I suffer from postpartum depression (PPD). If you didn't, you do now! I explained my PPD <a href="http://morgan-mikel.blogspot.com/2017/08/ppd-and-me-pt-1.html" target="_blank">earlier</a>. What I didn't explain was how difficult it is to remain "authentic" or true to myself. <div>
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It's common knowledge that everyone puts their best foot forward when sharing personal stories online. Hollywood has trained us to want happy endings. You read a story about someone's difficulties in hopes there is a nice ending, an ending that makes you smile. The truth of reality is there are no such things as "happy endings" while we're still alive. That's not to say there aren't happy moments. Because there are a <i>ton</i> of those. It's that they aren't <b>endings</b>. There aren't really any endings in life. Everything is a moment passing by. (I feel like the way I'm phrasing this is really cynical and depressing, but I'm not meaning to say it that way. I'm trying to convey that life doesn't create neatly packaged little stories for you. Life is a string of moments--both happy and sad--that continue forever. It's not a bad thing.)</div>
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I enjoy "happy endings" in stories. I enjoy finding out that the dog finds a "furever" home. I love when strangers help each other out of tragic situations. I'm not immune to those. They melt my heart. But they are never the whole story. The dog doesn't find a home and then cease to exist. He'll likely pee on the carpet, get scolded for stealing table food, or bark at 3 in the morning. The stranger that carried the old woman through flood waters has to go back to a destroyed home. The old woman now has to worry about finding food when she is unable to walk alone. It's not all flowers and sunshine. It's life. </div>
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That's what I want to share with you today. I want to be real with you. I want to be "authentic". It's important to me that you understand you aren't alone. You experience setback and pains and there is no "happily ever after" for some of those. This story isn't going to end, at least not with "and then my PPD went away and I was able to live happily forever!" It'll likely end subtly, after many ups and downs. I won't wake up one morning and have my PPD suddenly be washed away in the shower. It'll take time, and I likely won't realize it's gone until months after when I haven't posted about it, when I haven't thought about it. And I likely won't know what to say to wrap it into a neat little package. </div>
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It's difficult to maintain authenticity when you suffer from any sort of mental illness. It's not because we don't want to be ourselves, but because no one wants to hear about the sad parts. People want to hear that you're "okay". They want to know that you aren't suffering. Not because they don't care, but because they can't help. That's alright. There's nothing wrong with wanting our loved ones to be okay. I always want my loved ones to be more than okay. I also want myself to be "okay". Some days, though, I'm just not okay. And that's alright. I don't always need to be okay. But I always need to be honest about it. </div>
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We all do. It never helps anyone to put on a mask and pretend they're okay when friends ask. It helps them to be honest. It helps to say "hey, you know what, I am suffering from a lot of anxiety right now, and I don't think I can meet up for lunch." It helps to be able to answer "I'm not doing so great" when someone asks how you are. That's what relieves some of the pressure. </div>
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Society unintentionally wants us to all be "okay." We want happy answers. We want to feel like the world is alright. Because of that, those suffering feel like we are burdening the world. We answer "okay" so we don't create more problems. It's not fair to "unload" by telling people we aren't okay. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't tell, but these are<br />my footy pajamas. </td></tr>
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But that's all wrong. Not just that society wants us to answer "okay", but that we are burdens. We aren't. When I began suffering from PPD, I didn't want people to know. I wasn't ashamed, I just felt like it didn't need to be shared. I don't introduce myself and say "I'm Morgan, and I have postpartum depression. Also I sleep in footy pajamas." Those aren't things we say to each other right off the bat. But they are things we should say (maybe not the pajamas part, but seriously they're perfect for cold nights). The more I thought about it and read about PPD, the more I understood that in order for life to get better, I had to let others acknowledge the "not okay" parts. </div>
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I had to say "hey, I know you were going to come visit, but I am suffering from some major depression and having company is overwhelming to me. Can we take a raincheck?" Know what that friend answered? "Of course! I'm really sorry to hear you're suffering from that. I know it can't be easy. I'll text you in a couple of days to see how you're doing." And then she did. She wasn't ignoring the problem, she was giving me space, and then showing she cared about me. </div>
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By writing this, I want to show others they aren't alone. I'm not trying to normalize depression (because it's already a normal thing in the lives of most people). I want people to understand that PPD, and life in general, doesn't need to be perfectly cropped Instagram photos, or "happily ever afters". Life is a string of events. </div>
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I so badly want to write happy endings on this blog. I want to say "Look at what I overcame." The truth is, my life isn't like that. I have overcome a lot (C-section anyone?), but I also am continuing to do that. My life isn't in cute little boxes. My life is more like my office, a cluttered mess of things I need. My life is a series of going to the elementary school, going to work, trying to get M to let go of my hair, and acknowledging that I can't do it all. </div>
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Just like every other blogger on the planet, I want views. If I didn't want views, I wouldn't be putting it online. What gets views? Happy endings. Happy endings spread like wildfire. My blog will have happy moments, and happy posts, but it's likely not going to have a lot of happy <b>endings</b>. That's not authentic. It's not real. </div>
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Real is me telling you that I had to stop doing the 0-200 challenge I mentioned because I had a C-section four months ago. Real is me showing you my life, good and bad, without sugar coatings. It's tough to do that. No one wants to read about someone else's failures (unless you want to make yourself feel better about your own...). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you're wondering what<br />oil made my nose scruch,<br />it was this one.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">10K a Day can be painful.</td></tr>
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As I write about PPD and my experiences with it, I fight with myself. "Throw in a happy ending." "No, don't do that. That's not real." "What is real?" "I don't know, I don't remember philosophy 1010." It's a constant discussion in my head. It's hard. It's hard to say "I am not perfect" because I am perfectly me. My leg currently doesn't want to walk a whole lot (10,000 steps is a lot a day). My inside scars don't feel so great. I'm exhausted and I don't want to see people. But I want to put on a happy face and share silly anecdotes (like the time I fell backwards over a chair in front of at least 2 dozen people). I want to tell you about how bad I am at keeping my facial expressions even when smelling the worst essential oil I have ever smelled. Sometimes, those feel like lies. They all happened, but they don't always feel real because there's more than that little tidbit. It's important to me to share <i>all</i> the aspects of life, the good, the bad, and the ridiculous. That's what I find authentic. Sometimes I'll have moments that seem like happy endings, but they're really just happy moments. Sometimes, I'll write painfully long posts about how hard it is to make important connections when it takes all your effort to just get out of bed. </div>
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PPD has made it abundantly clear to me that life isn't all happy moments. There is the flip side where things are hard and dark. Those moments need to be shared, too. Without sugar, without funny pictures, without a happy ending. PPD doesn't have happy endings. It doesn't have sad ones either. It just doesn't have an ending. It might fade over time, maybe you "get over it", but it will forever shape your life. You will forever have that moment in your life. That's what life is about. Nothing truly ends. It continues and grows and morphs into more than one moment. I'll look back on this PPD someday and I'll remember how it shaped my ability to write. I'll remember what sacrifices I made just to take care of M. It will be a part of my life forever. It might not be active, but it will never <i>end</i>. </div>
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-32252501753476045922017-09-05T09:00:00.000-07:002017-09-05T09:00:54.877-07:00Is It Family Friendly?: Timpanogos CaveEvery year the local elementary school takes a fieldtrip to Timpanogos Cave. This year, I had the privilege of being a chaperon. The last time I went was when I was 9 on the same school fieldtrip. <div>
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How I remember the trip: </div>
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How it ended up being this time: </div>
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So at least I remembered about 25% of it correctly. </div>
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For those of you who have never been, but are debating it, here's a map for reference. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vcNkwXp9pE4/Wa4pIMsf5XI/AAAAAAAAc1Y/Sskoy5O9TG8fuoanZj8LkZWU4mnhLPAfwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170904_211904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vcNkwXp9pE4/Wa4pIMsf5XI/AAAAAAAAc1Y/Sskoy5O9TG8fuoanZj8LkZWU4mnhLPAfwCKgBGAs/s320/20170904_211904.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand drawn by D. </td></tr>
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Study that map. It's definitely not to scale, but notice the steep hills? He wasn't wrong. </div>
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Okay, let's talk about the possible "cons" to this trip.</div>
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First, just because it is possible, doesn't mean you should do it. Yes, a bunch of fourth graders can trek up the mountain, but should you really do that? That's up to you. (To the parents of some of those fourth graders, probably only do it if you have a leash on your kid.)</div>
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A lot of people want to take their kids up to the cave, which is awesome. It's an awesome experience to go inside. The park doesn't allow strollers, though. So anyone who can't walk long distances has to be backpacked in. I honestly would never hike that trail with an extra fifteen pounds strapped to me. I barely made it just walking myself up! The trail is really steep. You're climbing 1,092 feet up the mountainside. There are frequent rockfalls, and as such there are places where you absolutely cannot stop. A lot of those places are near the top, when you're the most tired. Worst planning ever. Like couldn't they put the rock falls lower down? What the heck park planning committee! </div>
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Seriously, there are frequent rockfalls. A ranger told us about a lady who lost her hand (that's right, took it clean off) to a rock the size of a baseball that had fallen from above. If that doesn't scare you, then I don't know what will. </div>
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Okay, so say you're okay lugging an extra fifteen pounds up the mountain. Inside the cave should be a cake walk, right? Wrong. You cannot touch anything in the cave except the handrails. So little curious hands have to be kept tucked in. </div>
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In some places, you have to hunch down and nearly crawl. Imagine trying to do that with fifteen pounds strapped to you while not letting any part of you touch the walls. It's like the game <i>Operation</i>, but more strenuous. Crawling through solo wasn't bad, even with my backpack. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKyRyq7waQ4/Wa4mSNUhnNI/AAAAAAAAc04/7wO5TxOlycg_fvy8xHjJ-VkmgxcR3ApmACKgBGAs/s1600/20170831_125150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKyRyq7waQ4/Wa4mSNUhnNI/AAAAAAAAc04/7wO5TxOlycg_fvy8xHjJ-VkmgxcR3ApmACKgBGAs/s320/20170831_125150.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Some of the tasks, like climbing around hunched over, are worth it to see the inside of this cave. Trust me. I personally don't think it's worth lugging a toddler up the mountain, though. </div>
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Back to the trail, there isn't a lot of shade. We got lucky and went on an overcast day, but other than that, there wasn't much shade. There are trees here and there, but mostly you're hiking in the sun. And there are no water fountains. There are benches periodically, which are nice. But again, they aren't always in the shade. If you do decide to go, bring a lot of water (but there are no trash cans...you pack down what you pack up). Also wear a lot of sunblock. Like SPF 3,000. It gets really sunny on that trail. </div>
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I've pointed out some of the possible problems with taking kids on the hike, now let's talk about the good parts of it. </div>
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It's gorgeous. The kids loved to look out over the valley and see things from a different point of view. They're usually looking up at everything, but this time they got to look down. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2dpKcRXh6QE/Wa4nRJVRU2I/AAAAAAAAc1A/t9vsYIHSs_8BC6GZsohQZiMxtocPSg7rwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170831_132120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2dpKcRXh6QE/Wa4nRJVRU2I/AAAAAAAAc1A/t9vsYIHSs_8BC6GZsohQZiMxtocPSg7rwCKgBGAs/s320/20170831_132120.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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They also loved the wildlife. The rangers said you can occasionally see mountain goats and rattlesnakes. We didn't get so lucky. We saw chipmunks, though! They were friendly enough to try to steal your lunch if you weren't looking. </div>
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The cave itself is amazing! (If you're going to get technical, it's three caves all connected.) The formations have taken centuries to form. They grow anywhere from the width of a dime/year, to 1/4 an inch a century. These things are incredible! At one point you're 500 feet underground. The fact that there is a giant hole in the mountain just hanging out is fascinating! It makes me wonder what else is in the mountains. </div>
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This is a sort of picture of the "heart" of the caves. It's about five feet tall, and about three feet around, but it weighs an estimated 2 tons (or 4,000 pounds). What!? And it's just hanging from the ceiling! Is that not amazing?!</div>
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It's these things that really make it worth the visit. Would I take C (15), B (12), D (9), E (5) and M (0)? No. Not a chance. I am not lugging M up that hill. And keeping an eye on E, keeping her from the edge of the cliff would be nearly impossible. She would be toast. I would definitely take C, B, and D, though. (After I get some serious leg training in.) </div>
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All in all, it's a fun trip. You know your family best. Can you keep your little ones from sprinting off the cliffs? Can you carry an extra 15-20 pounds up the mountain? Can you handle being in the sun for nearly 5 hours? If you answered yes to all of these questions then this trip might be for your family! If not, maybe wait a year or two until your kids are able to walk themselves up in an orderly fashion. </div>
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I do plan on taking M someday. Just not anytime soon. He won't remember the cave anyway. It's not worth it to me. I would much rather hit up a shorter trail with less chance of death. I've heard there are petroglyphs in Provo Canyon that can be reached easily. Maybe I'll try that out! If you do decide to hike Timp Cave, let me know how it goes! </div>
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(P.S. the round trip does get you 10,000+ steps, in case you need to get some in.)</div>
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-3158455421427993332017-09-02T19:17:00.000-07:002017-09-03T21:41:53.775-07:00STEPtemberDo you guys remember the ALS ice bucket challenge? Of course you do! You probably caught pneumonia participating. But it was fun! More than that, though, it raised both awareness and the funds necessary to research the disease. $220 Million was raised to help scientists research ALS, and less than 12 months after the freezing cold viral trend, researchers were able to find a protein that appears to link directly to ALS. What! That's amazing! According to Jonathan Ling, a member of the research team, this is a huge step in being able to slow the effects of ALS. How exciting is that!<br />
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What if we had the opportunity to raise that kind of awareness for other diseases and disorders? What if we could all chug a chocolate milk and find a cure for cancer? Would you do it? Probably. Chocolate milk is amazing. Curing cancer is amazing. Nothing about that sounds awful at all.<br />
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Know what does sound awful? Cerebral Palsy.<br />
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"Cerebral Palsy (CP) is an umbrella term that refers to a group of disorders affecting a person's ability to move. It is a life-long condition, but generally does not worsen over time. It is due to damage to the developing brain either during pregnancy or shortly after birth." </blockquote>
I'll take twenty chocolate milks, please. According to the Cerebral Palsy Alliance Research Foundation (cparf.org) Cerebral Palsy is the most common physical disability in childhood.<br />
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CP affects everyone differently. It can affect everything from muscle control and coordination to posture and balance. That doesn't sound like a tall glass of chocolate milk. It doesn't even sound like being drenched in ice water. It sounds challenging.<br />
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You know the saying "it takes a village to raise a child"? While that's absolutely true for children, it also takes a village to help someone living with CP. While no care-giver would ever trade their child/friend/parent/loved one for another that didn't have CP, I'm sure they would give anything to take the challenge away from them. Who wouldn't? We watch our loved ones struggle with small things like smacking their head on a doorknob and we wish we could take away the pain. It hurts to watch someone you love struggle while you stand by feeling helpless.<br />
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This is where <a href="http://steptember.us/" target="_blank">STEPtember</a> comes in. (I capitalize the first half of that because when I first read it, I genuinely thought it was just September.)<br />
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<a href="https://event.steptember.us/" target="_blank"><img alt="Steptember - Every Step Counts" border="0" height="400" src="https://event.steptember.us/public/images/steptember_logo.jpg" width="369" /></a><br />
STEPtember is our new ice bucket challenge. It's not nearly as freezing, but it is equally as important. STEPtember is the chance we have to raise awareness for CP, as well as money to fund research.<br />
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You might have guessed what STEPtember's "ice bucket" is. Walking. That's right. Good, old fashioned walking. (Is walking old fashioned?) The goal is 10,000 steps a day for 28 days. ("10K a day" if you will.)<br />
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Just like with any challenge, it's difficult to go it alone. STEPtember allows you to create teams, making it a little friendly competition. You can, and should, also talk to your friends, family, and neighbors to help support you. The point isn't to walk 10K a day. The point is to be active, and to raise awareness. It's a win-win, unlike the ice bucket challenge which was not a win for some people (how many people got clocked with a bucket?).<br />
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Some of us don't walk. Some of us prefer other activities, such as golfing, basketball, yoga, or even crossfit. Guess what! STEPtember has a conversion chart for those. This isn't limited to those with fully able bodies, either. They have a conversion for manual wheelchairs. This is an activity for everybody that will benefit so many lives, not just those with CP.<br />
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Check out this cute little thing. It's a pedometer that was mailed to me by STEPtember's organization. Many of us have smartphones that track our steps, or fit-bits, or apple watches. I only have a smartphone (I say only as if I'm deprived...). I like to wear dresses and leggings that don't have pockets. While I can stuff my phone into my waistband, that's not my favorite thing to do. That's why I requested they send me a pedometer (free of charge). It's bite-sized! It comes with a lanyard so you can wear it around your neck, or you can clip it to your pants, or just put it into your pocket. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.<br />
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The STEPtember challenge doesn't start until Labor Day (9/4/17), but I've been practicing to get a feel for how much I would need to walk to get 10K a day in. Want to see what that looks like on me?<br />
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This is D and me after we took 10K steps on Thursday. Granted, our steps were up a mountain, through a cave, and back down. I imagine flat ground stepping will be immensely easier. Here's the thing, if D can do it, anyone can do it. We have no excuse.<br />
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Have to go grocery shopping? Walk up and down every aisle (but don't go to the store hungry, you will buy every aisle, right?).<br />
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Your office is in another city and walking/biking isn't feasible? Park in the farthest spot from the door. I'm sure plenty of them are open.<br />
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You have a desk job? Walk to the other side of the office to give a message instead of just calling/emailing. Besides, I've heard it's important to get up every 15-30 minutes and stretch your legs if you sit at a desk all day.<br />
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Need time for the family? Guess what! Kids have so much energy! Take a walk to the local park, let the kids play while you walk the rounds, or better yet, play tag with them! This isn't a solitary activity.<br />
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Sometimes, I realize, there are those with limited ability, but that doesn't exclude you from helping. Donate a dollar to the team with your favorite name (hint, it's "Blistah Sistahs"). Share the STEPtember page (or this blog post) with your friends via social media. Offer to host a bake sale, garage sale, poker game where the proceeds go to CP research.<br />
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Together, we can do this. We really can. Can I walk 10K a day? Probably not. Am I going to give it my all and tell everyone why I'm doing it? You betchya! (I'm going to be worse than that one crossfit friend that talks exclusively about their workouts and how it has transformed their life.) I'll also be looking for ways to raise funds for this cause. (Anyone want apple pie cookies, or a Halloween wreath?)<br />
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Join me and together we can conquer CP!!!<br />
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Really though, let's do this. You already move throughout the day, might as well do it for a cause.<br />
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Check back weekly for updates on how sore my legs are. STEPtember, here I come!!Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-16647418895563193492017-08-29T22:49:00.000-07:002017-08-29T22:49:58.524-07:00Recipe Review: Hawaiian BBQ Chicken Kabobs and Garlic Parmesan SquashThat title is a mouthful! (pun intended)<br />
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This is the easiest recipe you will ever find on the internet (except perhaps a recipe for ice).<br />
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<img class="photo" itemprop="photo" onclick="window.open('','Recipe Image' );" src="" width="100px" /><br />
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BBQ Chicken and Pineapple Kabobs</div>
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by <span class="author" itemprop="author">Morgan Nielson </span><span class="published" datetime="2017-08-29" itemprop="published"> August-29-2017<span class="value-title" title="2017-08-29"></span></span></div>
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The easiest summer recipe you'll ever find. Literally three ingredients and VOILA!</div>
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Ingredients</div>
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<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">3 </span> <span itemprop="name"> boneless, skinless chicken breasts</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">1 can </span> <span itemprop="name"> sliced pineapple</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">to taste </span> <span itemprop="name"> Sweet Baby Ray's Hawaiian Style BBQ Sauce</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">12-15 </span> <span itemprop="name"> skewers</span></span></li>
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Instructions</div>
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<span class="instruction">If using wood skewers, soak them in water for 1 hour prior to using. (This prevents the wood from burning while cooking the kabobs.) You'll want to put them on the grill/stove wet. </span><span class="instruction">Cut the chicken breasts into 1 inch cubes. </span><span class="instruction">Cut the pineapple rings into quarters. </span><span class="instruction">Place the chicken and pineapple on the skewers, alternating between the two. Fill each skewer to your liking. </span><span class="instruction">Place the loaded skewers on the grill (I used my stove because I don't own a grill). Baste the skewers lightly with the BBQ sauce. If you put too much on too early the BBQ will char and it won't give you the sweet taste you're looking for. </span><span class="instruction">Brown each side of the kabobs, lightly basting with BBQ with each turn. </span><span class="instruction">When the chicken is cooked (160 F), remove the skewers to the plate, Here you can add all the sauce you want! </span><span class="instruction">Serve over rice or with other vegetables. </span></div>
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Details</div>
<span class="time preptime">Prep time: <time datetime="PT10M" itemprop="prepTime">10 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT10M"></span></span><span class="time cooktime">Cook time: <time datetime="PT20M" itemprop="cookTime">20 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT20M"></span></span><span class="time duration">Total time: <time datetime="PT30M" itemprop="totalTime">30 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT30M"></span></span><span class="yield">Yield: <span itemprop="yield">4 servings</span></span><br />
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For being so easy, it was delicious. We ate it with Jasmine Rice (minute rice mind you, we are very simple people). It was easily one of my favorite things that I have ever made.<br />
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Grilled pineapple is the best thing to ever grace this earth, and BBQ chicken is definitely on the top list of top five best summer meals. This was more than a win in my book! It makes my mouth water just looking at it:<br />
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It looks messy and delicious. It wasn't messy, but it was beyond delicious.<br />
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Aside from rice, we also had Garlic Parmesan Squash.<br />
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Garlic Parmesan Squash</div>
<div class="byline">
by <span class="author" itemprop="author">Morgan Nielson </span><span class="published" datetime="2017-08-29" itemprop="published"> August-29-2017<span class="value-title" title="2017-08-29"></span></span></div>
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This is a great summer recipe. It can be served with many different meats or entrees. </div>
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Ingredients</div>
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<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">2 small/medium </span> <span itemprop="name"> yellow squash</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">2 cloves </span> <span itemprop="name"> garlic, crushed</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">2 cups </span> <span itemprop="name"> parmesan</span></span></li>
<li><span class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredient" itemscope="" itemtype="http://data-vocabulary.org/RecipeIngredient"><span itemprop="amount">2 Tbsp </span> <span itemprop="name"> olive oil</span></span></li>
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Instructions</div>
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<span class="instruction">Slice the squash thinly.</span><span class="instruction">Heat the oil and garlic in a medium skillet. </span><span class="instruction">Sautee the squash until tender. </span><span class="instruction">Sprinkle parmesan across the top, melting it just enough to make it stick. </span><span class="instruction">Serve warm. </span></div>
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Details</div>
<span class="time preptime">Prep time: <time datetime="PT5M" itemprop="prepTime">5 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT5M"></span></span><span class="time cooktime">Cook time: <time datetime="PT15M" itemprop="cookTime">15 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT15M"></span></span><span class="time duration">Total time: <time datetime="PT20M" itemprop="totalTime">20 mins </time><span class="value-title" title="PT20M"></span></span><span class="yield">Yield: <span itemprop="yield">5 servings</span></span></div>
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Seriously. This was so easy, even I did it! And look how good it turned out!<br />
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This was by far the easiest dinner I have ever made. The best part is, it was tasty! A lot of super easy meals don't taste very good to me, but this was just right. It hit all the right spots. The squash was salty enough to counter the sweet kabobs, and the rice added that much needed starch.<br />
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The only thing I would do differently next time is I would make sure the pineapple juice didn't burn. It burned and made our house smell kind of gross. Watch out for that if you cook this on a stove like we did.<br />
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Overall, this was a winner.<br />
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Grodon Ramsey probably wouldn't like my plating... I'll work on it.Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-13339625027228458842017-08-28T11:36:00.000-07:002017-08-28T19:44:44.004-07:00Understanding Autism<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8BLYGNGQeEc/WaRKUy4sRdI/AAAAAAAAcYk/SNgHxLjwMgEKGorX_DSMfQKiC6y3YWOqQCKgBGAs/s1600/20170822_081745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8BLYGNGQeEc/WaRKUy4sRdI/AAAAAAAAcYk/SNgHxLjwMgEKGorX_DSMfQKiC6y3YWOqQCKgBGAs/s320/20170822_081745.jpg" width="240" /></a>This is D on his first day of 4th grade. He picked his outfit out himself. It was a long day of shopping to find those red pants. Ever since he saw my red pants he wanted some of his own. (He also has a bright blue pair that he loves.) The shoes were his second choice. He wanted shiny shoes, but they didn't have any in his size. Usually he wears a white T shirt that is likely covered in stains because it's his go to shirt. The Minecraft shirt is a huge step for him. His hair is a little shorter than he usually likes, but that's because he wanted to try a new hairstyle but changed his mind halfway through the cut. The stylist had to cut it shorter to try to fix it. She did a great job. </div>
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This is how D is comfortable. He might wear this outfit six days in a row. It's comfortable. He likes how the shirt feels against his skin. It doesn't bother him. He likes how the red pants look ("cool" is the word he uses). He feels they help him fit in. This outfit is a careful balance between fitting in and being comfortable. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hK5jLcH7ss8/WaRcqZb1xcI/AAAAAAAAcY0/LOyX9EQrQegjllaA19HqgOzNMz9rp6N1gCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170403_153305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hK5jLcH7ss8/WaRcqZb1xcI/AAAAAAAAcY0/LOyX9EQrQegjllaA19HqgOzNMz9rp6N1gCKgBGAs/s320/IMG_20170403_153305.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BYU vs. Oregon Ducks Baseball. <br />
(Our cousin plays for the ducks.)</td></tr>
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D has Autism. It causes his skin to be sensitive to the touch. The wrong type of fabric can overwhelm him. The possibility of unknown reactions to his clothes causes him anxiety. It seems ridiculous to most people. A shirt is a shirt. Cotton is cotton, it all feels the same to us. Honestly, in 4th grade, no one really cares about someone else's pants... But to D, it all matters. It's all very important. </div>
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Along with touch sensitivity, and fear of the unexpected, he also has taste sensitivity. Anything remotely minty burns his mouth. (Do I buy mint candy so he won't steal it? Maybe...) He loves to taste things. I don't mean just samples at Costco, <i>everything</i>. Even if it isn't edible. He sneaks a taste when he thinks no one is watching. </div>
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D also thrives off expectedness. I am the opposite. I thrive off needing to adapt. I seek out challenges just so I can adapt to them. D does not. He would rather watch the same segment of Lord of the Rings 100 times before watching a movie he doesn't recognize. When he has a doctor's appointment, I have to tell him at least two days in advance so he can plan on it. If something unexpectedly comes up, he breaks down and can't handle it. I am very spur of the moment. I might be lazy one second and decide to go to the park the next. D doesn't like that. He needs to know when we are going to the park, which park, how long we will be there, and what exactly we will do while there. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bvH1p37t78o/WaRcqb84aOI/AAAAAAAAcY0/GRS9a6sck0AprAcwsc5egfWGAmk2LdVRACKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20161110_162126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bvH1p37t78o/WaRcqb84aOI/AAAAAAAAcY0/GRS9a6sck0AprAcwsc5egfWGAmk2LdVRACKgBGAs/s320/IMG_20161110_162126.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We have to stop at Bath and Body works during<br />
every mall trip. Need a recommendation?<br />
D's got ya! </td></tr>
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The unexpectedness of life causes a lot of fears. Abstract thinking escapes him. Every elevator has a sign next to it that reads "In case of fire, use stairs." I explained to D that if the library were to catch fire, we would want to take the stairs because the elevator becomes unsafe. He thought I meant the elevator would catch fire spontaneously and we would all be trapped in it. Needless to say, we don't take the elevator anymore. </div>
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All of these little quirks can easily be seen as inconveniences or problems. Sometimes they definitely feel that way (especially when school shopping). They really aren't though. They're opportunities. Most of us live our lives experiencing the world in the same way as those around us, with our five sense perfectly wired. Spicy food is spicy. Cotton is cotton. Elevators take us up and down, bypassing the many flights of stairs we encounter. Seeing the world this way can become a great disservice to yourself. </div>
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For a long time, Autism was seen as a disability, something to be cured. Those with Autism were seen as less than. Slowly, the conversation is changing. As we grow to understand the mind of someone with Autism, our world expands. </div>
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D knows the softest shirts around. You need a comfortable shirt? He will find it for you. Nothing you own is as comfy as what he owns. </div>
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When you think of the places you've been, do you think of them in terms of how they tasted? I don't mean restaurants, I mean department stores, car washes, city parks, even the library. This how D remembers places. "Morg, can we go to the place that had the soft chairs and was kind of sweet?" or "can we go to the park that tastes gross because of the skunks?" Even when I'm not with D, I pay attention to how a place smells (because I can't taste them like he can). Places that were previously boring have become interesting because of their smells. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afUZB6nN0OA/WaRcqVsGpvI/AAAAAAAAcY0/lXPuqzDL5pAjjiBD6sfmSpwnrkbLQ03vACKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20160908_194847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afUZB6nN0OA/WaRcqVsGpvI/AAAAAAAAcY0/lXPuqzDL5pAjjiBD6sfmSpwnrkbLQ03vACKgBGAs/s320/IMG_20160908_194847.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D's soda bottle for the fall festival 2016.</td></tr>
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D's fear of elevators have given me legs of steel, and a huge appreciation for the lack of skyscrapers in Utah. I find myself rating staircases and avoiding buildings with staircases that are hot, gross, or scary instead of just taking the elevator. </div>
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There are downsides and adjustments to his autism, but there are also amazing talents hidden underneath the quirks. His love of music is unrivaled. When he has the attention span, he can draw masterpieces. D has the softest heart. He loves to love and be loved.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HR47Vl8H3ak/WaRcqVlt8TI/AAAAAAAAcY0/LdT-LWCF87wbVpj0qE4OLLcIDjUE7jgnwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170426_113220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HR47Vl8H3ak/WaRcqVlt8TI/AAAAAAAAcY0/LdT-LWCF87wbVpj0qE4OLLcIDjUE7jgnwCKgBGAs/s200/20170426_113220.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M's biggest fan is D.</td></tr>
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While autism is a neat little label for the way his brain works it doesn't define D. His love defines him. His ability to draw defines him. His love of music defines him. The way he strives to improve and learn defines him. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CCEJ8O8767s/WaRcqUk3UgI/AAAAAAAAcY0/ajUafeTQeOYMEoKZ9apklz7vOfnfk3S5QCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20161210_170755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CCEJ8O8767s/WaRcqUk3UgI/AAAAAAAAcY0/ajUafeTQeOYMEoKZ9apklz7vOfnfk3S5QCKgBGAs/s200/IMG_20161210_170755.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a mouse we rescued from<br />
our cat. His soft heart extends to<br />
animals as much as people. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d6GBXFaPcD0/WaRcqf3mCVI/AAAAAAAAcY0/ULDOWtJjptooLcRxyEPlaHjJ3Q6hrOilgCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170215_135514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d6GBXFaPcD0/WaRcqf3mCVI/AAAAAAAAcY0/ULDOWtJjptooLcRxyEPlaHjJ3Q6hrOilgCKgBGAs/s200/IMG_20170215_135514.jpg" width="150" /></a>How we react to him and treat him defines us. Either we can see those with autism as less than, or we can see them as the amazing individuals they are. I'm glad the conversation is changing. We all could benefit from experiencing life a little differently. The world has so much to offer us, and it seems that those with autism have the unique opportunity to unlock those secrets. Let them share that with you.<br />
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-83776184697102174302017-08-25T09:00:00.000-07:002017-08-25T09:00:01.152-07:003 Uncommon Essential Oils for the Average Joe<div style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 11px;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Everyone knows at least one “crazy oil lady.” She’s the neighbor that calls you up at random and asks questions about your health. Often times, you might dodge her at the grocery store, or screen her calls. I’m sure she’s a very nice lady, just a little intense when it comes to essential oils. I get that. No one wants to be hounded about their mental, emotional, and physical health. “Natural” living isn’t for everyone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I feel like there are three groups of people that come to mind when people bring up essential oils.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The first group is the housewife that is desperate for you to join her “team” or to host “parties.” She adds you to her groups on Facebook and says things like “Want to make money while working from home? Want to set your own schedule? PM me and I’ll tell you how!” We all know not to PM her, or even like that status.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The second group is the “ideal” housewife. The one who posts pictures of herself at the gym just “getting a quick 10 miles in before Jimmy gets home from school!” The girl whose toddler wears designer rompers. She praises oils as being the reason she is so fit, and her kid is “paraben” free. (I have no idea what a paraben is…)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The third group are the “hippies.” The ones who “live naturally” to the extent that they don’t shower regularly because “the water washes the good bacteria off your body.” They typically smell like they use oils. They camp as often as possible and carry a backpack instead of a purse. (FYI, I do carry a backpack that I call my llama bag, but it has M’s baby stuff in it…A purse isn’t logical when your baby pees enough to give Niagra Falls a run for its money.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">When you think oils, you think “this isn’t for me.” I can’t blame you. A lot of it isn’t for everyone. In fact, I think no one really uses all of the oils. I know I don’t. (I also don’t create Facebook groups, run any number of miles, and I shower regularly.) There are some oils that I do use, though. I use them because they work for me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">You can read a million blogs about the “starter oils” such as Lavender, Lemon, and Peppermint. But those oils only do so much. Instead I want to tell you about three oils that are only mentioned if you do decide to confess your life story to the “crazy oil lady” that cornered you in the cereal aisle.</span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BjP3MRpBqSk/WZ9A6_5aMXI/AAAAAAAAcDc/oLhOfFb4ILsD1xZ-fme0bnLiFNLuwrlrQCKgBGAs/s1600/SmartSelectImage_2017-08-24-11-19-47.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="802" data-original-width="854" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BjP3MRpBqSk/WZ9A6_5aMXI/AAAAAAAAcDc/oLhOfFb4ILsD1xZ-fme0bnLiFNLuwrlrQCKgBGAs/s320/SmartSelectImage_2017-08-24-11-19-47.png" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The first one is by doTerra called DigestZen. I know what you’re thinking…well actually I don’t, but I can tell you what I first thought: “Ew.” It sounds like something you eat/drink. It can be. It’s commonly used to restore balance to the digestive system. The name says it all. “Digestive peace” essentially. I don’t want to eat or drink it. In fact, I don’t really even rub it onto my stomach as suggested. I only breathe it in (not inhale it like a drug, just smell it).</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I did this a lot when I was pregnant with M. If you’ve been pregnant you know that nausea can hit you at any time without warning and it sucks. I took prescribed medicine to ease the constant nausea, but for the random bouts that would hit me I used DigestZen. It was often right before bed, right when M would do his nightly stretches (which he still does at the same time each night). I would put a drop on the hand that was next to my face as I slept. It greatly helped ease the nausea throughout the night.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I haven’t tried it for more than pregnancy nausea, but I imagine it would work for motion sickness as well. If you have a little one that gets sick during the Sunday drive through the scenic parts of town, try rubbing a little on their hands so they can smell it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The next oil is Maleluca (or tea tree oil). I have mixed feelings about this oil. It’s not my favorite smell. In fact, it reminds me of the health food store as a kid that my grandma would drag me to. It felt like we spent hours in there! It was the worst! (As an adult, I like the health food store.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I like this oil for its ability to ease ear pain. Ear aches are the worst whether you’re 2 or 102. They hurt when you swallow. They hurt to touch. They can give you a headache or sore throat. They just suck. I will try anything to ease the pain. That’s why I like this oil.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">When my ears start to ache, I put a few drops of this stuff on a cotton ball (or piece of gauze because I don’t actually own cotton balls) and then put it in my ear. Yes, I do look silly walking around with cotton sticking out of my ear, but who cares! The pain goes away! It really does! I’m not just saying that so you’ll be nicer to your crazy oil friend. It really works!! It’s amazing!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Just this week my ear was killing me. It stung to touch, I couldn’t lay on it, and swallowing caused it to burn. I stuck oily gauze in my ear for about two hours (not in one go, I kept taking it out so I could hear things) and ever since, it’s been pain free!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">B had an ear ache, and I had him do the same thing. Ear ache gone (or at least he stopped complaining about it…maybe he was worried I’d make him put different oils in his ear). BAM! Works like a charm! Best thing ever!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The third and most uncommon oil is the doTerra Purify blend. It smells clean. I mean, really clean. We’re talking lemons on a sunny day clean. Only bleach smells cleaner than this stuff. While it’s nice to diffuse and make the house smell clean, that’s not its only purpose. (Though it’s great to have diffused around the house with all the yucky diapers M makes.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">This week, I used it to make a homemade Febreze for some new/used couches we got. Rich’s parents had a loveseat and recliner they no longer needed, so we took them off their hands. The only downside to free furniture is the life they lived previously. The loveseat and chair are both upholstered in gray fabric. That’s right, fabric. Not pleather, not leather, fabric. And they own dogs. Rich is crazy allergic to anything with fur. He sneezes. His throat itches. His eyes water. And he gets a little grumpy. (Grumpiness isn’t an allergic reaction, he just hates when his allergies flare up.) So getting a fabric sofa from a dog owner isn’t an ideal situation. But FREE!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">We don’t own a carpet cleaner. In fact, our vacuum is questionable. But these couches were what we needed. We vacuumed them as much as we could. Then we sprayed them down with a water-Purify mixture. (I don’t know how much water to oil. I rarely measure things like this. I’d estimate 2 cups or water to five drops of Purify.) We sprayed the daylights out of the loveseat, chair, and two matching pillows. They all smell incredible now.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I don’t know if it was the vacuuming, or the Purify, but Rich’s allergies haven’t flared up more than a little sniffle here and there. I would like to say it’s the Purify. We’ve had the dogs visit before, and it took an insane amount of vacuuming to clear the house of dog, and even then his allergies still gave him a hard time. Miracle oil right there!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Now, these aren’t promises that these oils will work for you exactly like they worked for me. Every person is different. Every oil reacts differently for each person. But these have been amazing in my life! I highly recommend them! And you don’t need to call your crazy oil lady to order them. You can order them online directly from doTerra. (or drop me a line and I can get it for you, no obligation to host a party or listen to me drone on about oils, I promise.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">We all know the real reason you came here was to see pictures of M. So, as always: Here's the obligatory snapshot of his chubby cheeks:</span></div>
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-75153478765993218182017-08-23T21:03:00.000-07:002017-08-24T14:35:45.041-07:00PPD and Me; Pt. 1I don't know what future "parts" might hold, but I know that this beast is bigger than just one blog post.<br />
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Postpartum Depression.<br />
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The only downside to having M.<br />
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When I was pregnant my mind was constantly planning for the future. Not in the sense that I picked a house, gave it paint colors, decided which schools M would attend, etc. I was planning for me. My recovery. I greatly feared actually giving birth. I really didn't want to push anything out from down...there... That sounded horrible. I also didn't want to have to sit on a donut for months afterward. And all that blood? Ew. Physical recovery sounded awful.<br />
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But what about emotional recovery? A few years ago, I imagined having a baby was all smiles and laughs (even through the sleepless nights). I imagined my heart being so full that I could cry. I imagined feeling a sense of joy and happiness and pride. And I do feel those things. But I also feel a gnawing depression.<br />
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A year or so ago, someone named Emily took her own life after suffering from Postpartum Depression (PPD). I didn't know her personally, but most of my coworkers did. It stunned them. I could feel their hearts breaking as they shared memories of her and her lovely husband. That's when I learned about the <a href="http://theemilyeffect.org/" target="_blank">Emily Effect.</a> It opened my eyes to PPD.<br />
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Before M, I was prone to depression. It wasn't ever "super serious". Not like some people have it. I didn't feel the need to sit in a dark room, or be alone often. As I got closer to M's birth, I felt very unprepared emotionally. The physical recovery now seemed like a cakewalk compared to what <i>could</i> happen emotionally.<br />
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I read that some women take their own lives. Some harm their new babies. Most women with PPD find it hard to enjoy their little one. I didn't want that to be me, but I knew it could be. So I talked with Rich. Having had depression before, I knew talking during a downswing was not an option. I can be really good with words, but not with numbing depression. I knew that if I was struggling, the last thing I would want to do is tell someone about all the tiny details. That's why we talked about it before. I explained what it was, what possible effects it could have, and how if it did happen I'd struggle to talk about it. Rich, being the empathetic person he is, understood.<br />
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Then M came. M came in a rush. There was no pushing. There was no "this is it!" Only a groggy morning of "we gotta call Grandma. Text your parents. Text my dad." I wasn't fully awake from the medicine they gave me the previous night. I don't remember the time between being denied my pancakes and the time when the Dr. pinched me and asked if I could feel it. (No, I couldn't.) I remember seeing blood squirt onto the curtain (ew) and M being pushed out like a toothpaste from a tube. I remember Rich's face.<br />
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I also remember the second night after. (The first night I was still 90% groggy.) But that second night. I cried. And the night after that, I cried. And after that, I cried. I knew it was the baby blues, but I also knew it wasn't going to go away. The Dr. okayed me jumping back onto the anti-depressants from before my pregnancy, so I did right away. They take a few weeks to kick in all the way, and I didn't want to chance it. Weeks passed and I still struggled. I still cried. I still panicked. I still couldn't connect to the world. A nurse from the health department came to do a well-check on M (because he was so premie). She also checked on me. She listened to me, suggested I call the doctor for different medication or a higher dose. Then she followed up with me. That's what I needed. I needed someone to help pull me out of the hole. Someone that wasn't my husband who always worries about me. Someone who cared about me but was separated enough to not fear pushing me.<br />
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I called my doctor. We upped my current medication. It helped. I went from panic attacks to enjoying every second of life. That doesn't mean I'm out of the woods. It hasn't gone away. And it might not for a long while.<br />
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This week, for example, has been hard. If you know me, and you have read my recent posts, you can probably tell something is missing. Today was the culmination. Each day has been progressively worse. That's why I wrote. I write to take my mind off of the PPD. Today, though, nothing felt like I could pull out of it. Each step I took was a conscious effort. Each task I needed to accomplish was calculated. I felt like a car running out of gas. Could I get to that next corner? Could I put my shoes on? Did I have enough in me to even nap? I wanted to just do nothing. I wanted to take care of M and that's it. But I knew if I did that, I wouldn't pull out like I wanted. So I got us ready (sort of. M doesn't wear clothes which makes life easier). I drove him to my grandma's and I went to work. I pushed through the emails. I sat through the meeting. When it was over, I came home and napped. I forced myself to.<br />
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I can't say it all helped. I can't say that I'm over it. I'm not. But I'm okay for now. I don't feel crippled by anxiety or depression at this moment. It'll come back. It'll try to tear me away from my goals. It'll make me choose between putting shoes on and getting M's diaper changed. And every time, I will get up and focus. I will push. It isn't going to win. PPD might be part of my life right now, but so are many other things.<br />
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Sorry, PPD, not today!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOfcFdzyNI/WZ5PiQY9DQI/AAAAAAAAcBE/YHJuJZrghXw04CxLB_RrYa-s_d53Sx61gCKgBGAs/s1600/20170425_092211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOfcFdzyNI/WZ5PiQY9DQI/AAAAAAAAcBE/YHJuJZrghXw04CxLB_RrYa-s_d53Sx61gCKgBGAs/s320/20170425_092211.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a combination of grogginess and depression. You probably can't see it, but I can.<br />
Also, check out that HAIR!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This has nothing to do with the post. This is just Rich and M playing video games. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C08wNYqEACo/WZ5Pid9OjUI/AAAAAAAAcBE/IGEqG_lP8mot798f2rim-eYq2qfUbjYFwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170822_181026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C08wNYqEACo/WZ5Pid9OjUI/AAAAAAAAcBE/IGEqG_lP8mot798f2rim-eYq2qfUbjYFwCKgBGAs/s320/20170822_181026.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M is always making faces. Even in his sleep. Love this kid. </td></tr>
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Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-31054116401330144462017-08-21T17:24:00.000-07:002017-08-21T17:24:04.402-07:00Recipe Review: Lemon TartThis is another recipe from my Irish Cooking Bible. Again, I have never had actual Irish food, so I have no idea how closely this resembles their fare.<br />
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I also have never had a Lemon Tart. I think I'm the wrong person for this job... I really ought to review things I have eaten before, but that would be far less fun for me.<br />
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First, I'm going to throw down the recipe so no one has to scroll to find it:<br />
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Ingredients:<br />
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1 refrigerated pie crust (half a 15-oz package)<br />
5 eggs<br />
1 Tbsp cornstarch<br />
1 cup sugar<br />
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter (I used salted...)<br />
1/2 cup lemon juice<br />
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Steps:<br />
1. Preheat oven to 450 F.<br />
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2. Line 9 inch pie tin with pie crust. Press it to the bottom and the edges. Use a fork to poke the sides and bottom. (It doesn't say how much poking is needed. I did a few pokes on the bottom, and a lot on the sides.) Bake the crust for 9-10 minutes, or until golden brown (I forgot to watch it and it was a little more brown than golden.) Reduce the oven temp to 350 F.<br />
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3. Meanwhile, whisk eggs and cornstarch in medium bowl. Combine sugar, butter, and lemon juice in small saucepan over medium-low heat; cook and stir just until the butter is melted. Whisk in egg mixture; cook 8-10 minutes or until thickened, stirring constantly. (DO NOT LET IT BOIL!) Transfer to medium bowl; stir 1 minute until cooled. Let cool 10 minutes.<br />
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4. Pour the cooled lemon curd into the baked crust. Bake 25 minutes or until set. Cool completely before cutting.<br />
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This is what they wanted it to look like:<br />
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This is what mine looks like:<br />
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I accidentally tipped it when I put it in the oven...so it was not even.<br />
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Like I said earlier, I have never made lemon tart before. I don't know what the steps are supposed to look like as I go... this is what mine looked like:<br />
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There really aren't a lot of photogenic steps in this recipe.<br />
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This dessert is aptly named. It was fairly tart. It wasn't an overpowering tartness or sweetness. It was very subtle. I was expecting a taste similar to a lemon head. It was the exact opposite (as opposite as something lemon flavored can be).<br />
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I've heard that Americans use way too much sugar in everything. I googled other Lemon Tart recipes to see if we use far more sugar in this recipe. We don't. Not that I saw. There were some recipes that called for 1.5 cups of sugar, but nothing crazy.<br />
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All in all, this was a light dessert. The crust definitely needs to be less cooked after the first step. It was fairly dry since I forgot about it in the oven...oops.<br />
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Also, use a pie pan that won't flake off into your crust. The coating on ours coated our pie crust... Ew. We had to throw it away.<br />
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I think next time I'll try an American recipe. Any suggestions?Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-54245533511193338142017-08-19T22:50:00.001-07:002017-08-19T23:13:34.238-07:003 FAQThere are three questions people often ask me:<br>
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1. Did you cut your hair?<br>
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The answer is yes. I did in fact cut my hair. It was hot. M kept pulling handfuls out. I hated washing it (it took nearly a whole day to do). I just wanted something simple and easy. Now it's five minutes in the shower and I can be out the door! M still grabs handfuls when he can reach it though.<br>
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2. How's married life?<br>
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We got married a little over a year ago, so people still ask this. It's great. I love it. I can't imagine a time before we got married. What did we do with ourselves? How did we go to separate houses each night? It's hard enough saying goodnight and closing my eyes...I'm not sure how I managed to live in a different city than Rich. Man oh man!<br>
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What I like most about married life is getting to spend as many seconds as humanly possible with Richi. We get to go grocery shopping together, get our cars washed, feed M, move couches, clean garages, and laugh while doing it all. I feel like movies and TV shows depict a lot of "perfect" relationships as the ones where people disagree on nearly everything, where they fight about loading the dishwasher, where they get jealous because someone stayed late at work. Media calls it passion. I call it awful. I can't imagine spending eternity with someone I couldn't laugh with at every possible second.<br>
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I had the C-section for M, and my insides hurt pretty badly. We were tired beyond belief. M needed to be fed every ten minutes, I swear! It was a little bit of a "rough patch"...as rough as we get. And we had to watch these child care videos given to us by the hospital. While informational, they were dull as all get out, but in the middle Richi made a joke and we laughed. Then I cried because my insides hurt, but we laughed. We laughed the night before the C-section, when suddenly the pregnancy turned very serious. We laughed in the operating room. We laugh when M keeps us up at night. We're happy together.<br>
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More importantly, we communicate. We talk about everything. If I had a bad day, I tell him. If he's had a bad day, he tells me. If he doesn't like how I forget to rinse my bowl, he tells me (and then I do it because he loads the dishwasher and it's the least I can do). If he's uncomfortable, he tells me. If I am in a bad mood, I tell him. There is no guessing in our relationship. That's what makes it perfect.<br>
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I don't get upset when he works late (because sometimes he has to). He doesn't get upset when I have to spend the evening school shopping with the older kids. He texts his friends (some of which are girls), and I text my friends (some of which are guys). Richi wasn't great at flirting when we dated, so I know he isn't out flirting with others. Even if he was good at flirting, I know he loves me. He makes that very very clear in his actions and words. We trust each other because we love each other.<br>
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So how is married life? It's amazing. I am married to an amazing man and I couldn't be happier!<br>
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3. How is M?<br>
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M is great. He can't figure out how to poop yet, though. (Is that weird that I said that on here? I'm a mom now. It's what moms talk about...poop and throw up...) He also heats up like a small furnace. We like to keep him naked because he tends to sweat like he's run a marathon in the Sahara. We're working on figuring that out.<br>
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Other than those small hiccups, he is doing great! He loves this little toy that we call Giggle Cat (if you squeeze her tummy she giggles and says "I love you"). Everything he can get to his mouth immediately goes in, which makes him a cannibal if I don't feed him quickly enough... He starts gnawing on my arm. He loves to sit up. He hates laying down unless it's time to sleep. When he goes to my grandma's house, he loves to watch the older boys and demands they carry him. He talks to lightbulbs and ceiling fans. I don't know why, but he does. He loves to be read to.<br>
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And my favorite thing ever is that he loves to sing. Music comes on and he begins singing his heart out. He can be screaming right up to when the music starts. He'll stop and sing. But once the music stops, the screaming starts again. He also loves to sing with his dad. Richi sings to him and he sings back. It's probably the cutest thing this planet has ever seen.<br>
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Since I am one of <i>those</i> moms, I take at least a dozen pictures a day of M. Here are a few of my favorite:<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pr3r2kW2GBk/WZkf_vG61xI/AAAAAAAAbys/lOEF6oQPr-sXXsn2H1-rbi_yYqIr2sfegCKgBGAs/s1600/20170818_190753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pr3r2kW2GBk/WZkf_vG61xI/AAAAAAAAbys/lOEF6oQPr-sXXsn2H1-rbi_yYqIr2sfegCKgBGAs/s320/20170818_190753.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just hanging out on the chair. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SE1CSTYjHA/WZkf_unZ72I/AAAAAAAAbys/GjMwSCG3Ve8edevS2kvXidryUGw3PQ5ggCKgBGAs/s1600/20170815_194518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8SE1CSTYjHA/WZkf_unZ72I/AAAAAAAAbys/GjMwSCG3Ve8edevS2kvXidryUGw3PQ5ggCKgBGAs/s320/20170815_194518.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loves when dad feeds him. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-waXy8ytTNrY/WZkf_rEeVqI/AAAAAAAAbys/p6bclPUmcRMjEJvMD-c4rfKJaLmbnczDQCKgBGAs/s1600/20170815_084940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-waXy8ytTNrY/WZkf_rEeVqI/AAAAAAAAbys/p6bclPUmcRMjEJvMD-c4rfKJaLmbnczDQCKgBGAs/s320/20170815_084940.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This yellow blanket was handmade for him. He hugs that like there's no tomorrow.<br>(I will post a link to her shop once I find it)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMtj1NCv0ak/WZkf_gqPE_I/AAAAAAAAbys/4DWMBJYXPnQYh6P_8hdFsS9WcVaNY7U9ACKgBGAs/s1600/20170814_084703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMtj1NCv0ak/WZkf_gqPE_I/AAAAAAAAbys/4DWMBJYXPnQYh6P_8hdFsS9WcVaNY7U9ACKgBGAs/s320/20170814_084703.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's always on the go so a track suit is fitting. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ft2D4CiQaM/WZkf_j6X3yI/AAAAAAAAbys/hn-PpL_eLhgGkouMKvaIl1SddsgF4OuWwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170813_131727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ft2D4CiQaM/WZkf_j6X3yI/AAAAAAAAbys/hn-PpL_eLhgGkouMKvaIl1SddsgF4OuWwCKgBGAs/s320/20170813_131727.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dino jammies ftw. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s6qnC0VK59I/WZkf_h48RGI/AAAAAAAAbys/B1EGWVaDDsMpBlxu2y-ZfBvTmENuA-jNACKgBGAs/s1600/20170813_193632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s6qnC0VK59I/WZkf_h48RGI/AAAAAAAAbys/B1EGWVaDDsMpBlxu2y-ZfBvTmENuA-jNACKgBGAs/s320/20170813_193632.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His favorite place to be is in dad's lap. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YJKNRy85tAw/WZkf_kl6hTI/AAAAAAAAbys/KTbjPiDWqC8lxbCpCHAVuoFvhBjH-7lqwCKgBGAs/s1600/20170813_131710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YJKNRy85tAw/WZkf_kl6hTI/AAAAAAAAbys/KTbjPiDWqC8lxbCpCHAVuoFvhBjH-7lqwCKgBGAs/s320/20170813_131710.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He always has something to say. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FKds6gjyka0/WZkf_ortDUI/AAAAAAAAbys/mEhOWO6dyXck63w4-fVtGNP8ZcVyEt0-gCKgBGAs/s1600/20170812_224904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FKds6gjyka0/WZkf_ortDUI/AAAAAAAAbys/mEhOWO6dyXck63w4-fVtGNP8ZcVyEt0-gCKgBGAs/s320/20170812_224904.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friends got this Minky blanket for him and he loves it. It's soft and easy to chew on. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BTGwvLMj9KI/WZkf_j9maGI/AAAAAAAAbys/hmt9JwpF4rgqqEQY1wr3cE4AXhynniBdgCKgBGAs/s1600/20170812_063841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BTGwvLMj9KI/WZkf_j9maGI/AAAAAAAAbys/hmt9JwpF4rgqqEQY1wr3cE4AXhynniBdgCKgBGAs/s320/20170812_063841.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's so peaceful. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gOGPpaoJRH4/WZkf_rMIS5I/AAAAAAAAbys/E1NZVkDsf6cFoe_umvNbo2FlqKjPXV01wCKgBGAs/s1600/20170810_140742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gOGPpaoJRH4/WZkf_rMIS5I/AAAAAAAAbys/E1NZVkDsf6cFoe_umvNbo2FlqKjPXV01wCKgBGAs/s320/20170810_140742.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never too young to meet the Ishes.<br>(Link at the bottom to buy your own Ishes!)<br></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cwDgQQ0nOj0/WZkf_snItxI/AAAAAAAAbys/lfnF5mfWJK4EhaP0ENFw-F8FMcI68UTKACKgBGAs/s1600/20170809_223603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cwDgQQ0nOj0/WZkf_snItxI/AAAAAAAAbys/lfnF5mfWJK4EhaP0ENFw-F8FMcI68UTKACKgBGAs/s320/20170809_223603.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes he goes into a food coma</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k72oab6BCfo/WZkf_owRYQI/AAAAAAAAbys/UzmiydhStbQ-GsvmRy1LMO3dFIVqYacpACKgBGAs/s1600/20170808_195055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k72oab6BCfo/WZkf_owRYQI/AAAAAAAAbys/UzmiydhStbQ-GsvmRy1LMO3dFIVqYacpACKgBGAs/s320/20170808_195055.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loves to copy the faces dad makes. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7aZ28pcG5Qs/WZkf_tB-v5I/AAAAAAAAbys/1__cY3hK7KMdBUwFhn1_upCJzcvIbGTCACKgBGAs/s1600/20170805_120242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7aZ28pcG5Qs/WZkf_tB-v5I/AAAAAAAAbys/1__cY3hK7KMdBUwFhn1_upCJzcvIbGTCACKgBGAs/s320/20170805_120242.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could he be any cuter! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-70LSbgsjmkk/WZkf_ry3QAI/AAAAAAAAbys/cWb1ey8BrIsmX_rHwU__dW8aQnasNpAtACKgBGAs/s1600/20170802_193652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-70LSbgsjmkk/WZkf_ry3QAI/AAAAAAAAbys/cWb1ey8BrIsmX_rHwU__dW8aQnasNpAtACKgBGAs/s320/20170802_193652.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He would have dad carry him around all day if it were possible. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7xJpCkGWOtQ/WZkf_vg1oEI/AAAAAAAAbys/DFu7EQWFw0oU5Yg05m6m78J0SLP9RH7KQCKgBGAs/s1600/20170731_074613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7xJpCkGWOtQ/WZkf_vg1oEI/AAAAAAAAbys/DFu7EQWFw0oU5Yg05m6m78J0SLP9RH7KQCKgBGAs/s320/20170731_074613.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's rarely not smiling. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ewbd2X_45mc/WZkf_rHGmUI/AAAAAAAAbys/Vf1eb5_96S0DdrDpwJx9qLobrg8roDf1wCKgBGAs/s1600/20170730_141241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ewbd2X_45mc/WZkf_rHGmUI/AAAAAAAAbys/Vf1eb5_96S0DdrDpwJx9qLobrg8roDf1wCKgBGAs/s320/20170730_141241.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lookin' sharp in his suit. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4JanZdSuYs/WZkf_nENlmI/AAAAAAAAbys/TCSK-pS37CE0hrDjrwV6dclRbyajqMTfACKgBGAs/s1600/20170730_081002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4JanZdSuYs/WZkf_nENlmI/AAAAAAAAbys/TCSK-pS37CE0hrDjrwV6dclRbyajqMTfACKgBGAs/s320/20170730_081002.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is one of my favorite pictures. M loves to sleep with his dad, almost more than he likes sleeping with me.<br><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
M is snuggled up in bed, and Richi is waiting for me to eat cake. I best get off the computer and eat my cake before bed. <div>
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Where to buy Ishes: https://www.ishtoys.com/</div>
</div>
Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-50200142132303317382017-08-17T20:24:00.000-07:002017-08-17T20:25:28.147-07:000-200 ChallengeI'm not sure what possessed me to do this, but I decided to do a 0-200 challenge. What's that? I'll tell you what it is!<br />
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It's a simple work-out. I mean <i>really</i> simple. I downloaded 3 apps. Each of them is a different workout. I got pushups (which is only 0-100, thank heaven!), sit-ups, and squats. The app takes you through each day's workout, including resting intervals. All you do is pick whichever day you're on, and follow the directions. Super easy (the app, not the pushups...).<br />
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This is the app logo for the pushups:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hePziakzJtM/WZZbJHsHfjI/AAAAAAAAbsk/HW9Z5OESwlYHluGkDPJgO4jXOcNaxTGKgCLcBGAs/s1600/0-100%2B.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hePziakzJtM/WZZbJHsHfjI/AAAAAAAAbsk/HW9Z5OESwlYHluGkDPJgO4jXOcNaxTGKgCLcBGAs/s320/0-100%2B.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Kid you not, I picked these apps because of the logos (they're all similar). I judge apps by their covers... This was a good choice though. Seriously.<br />
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The apps want you to work out each day until you are able to accomplish the entire 200 (or 100). I am not doing that. There is no way on this earth that I would be able to do sit-ups, pushups, <i>and</i> squats. Guys, I can barely do pushups as it is, and that's probably only because I have to tote M around in his carseat (that kid is HEAVY!). Instead, I am doing them one each day. This means it's going to take me 3 times longer, but I am more than okay with that. Slow and steady wins the race.<br />
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I am not a fan of workout blogs or fitness journals. That is a lifestyle I will never fit into. I am a huge fan of relaxing walks and couch cuddles. I'm going to keep posting about this challenge, but realize it's going to be an average mom's experience. That means I will likely curse the sky with every sit-up, and fall over after 15 squats, but I'll let you know about those. Don't expect to see a peppy "I feel great!" in my posts...honestly I'm going to have jello legs and a headache. Again, I don't know what possessed me to do this. No one even asked. But now that I have started, I have to finish cuz I ain't no quittah!<br />
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I've done each exercise once (so I've been doing this for three days). Here is a picture of that result:<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IIe6dm9NVxQ/WZZctizyekI/AAAAAAAAbs0/QxGyLrFSfxI5ztrqb_HOe-Lz6cucaB-YgCKgBGAs/s1600/20170817_210509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IIe6dm9NVxQ/WZZctizyekI/AAAAAAAAbs0/QxGyLrFSfxI5ztrqb_HOe-Lz6cucaB-YgCKgBGAs/s320/20170817_210509.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7n5vxYq2rgE/WZZctvhegBI/AAAAAAAAbs0/vXLLWMPMffYYzwfuiSkRMvV-Gwk3Kwf-wCKgBGAs/s1600/20170817_210451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7n5vxYq2rgE/WZZctvhegBI/AAAAAAAAbs0/vXLLWMPMffYYzwfuiSkRMvV-Gwk3Kwf-wCKgBGAs/s320/20170817_210451.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Pretty dang good for having had M 4 months ago! (This is the most I've ever weighed without a baby in there, and I love it! I am <i>not </i>doing this to lose weight. Honestly, I love my weight, my body, and my jello legs.)<br />
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Don't let that smile fool you, though. I did the squats today at work (great desk exercise) and then walked 100 miles around the junior high helping C and B find their classes (16 teachers...16...parent teacher conferences will be fun...). My abs still ache from sit-ups, and my arms hurt from pushups (or from carrying M, it's tough to tell which is harder). Through these aches, I'll find the joy. Hopefully you can find it with me!<br />
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If you want to do the challenge with me, let me know so I can shoot you support emails/texts (because everyone needs a good gif to keep them going).<br />
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Wish me luck, guys! And if you see me wobbling down the street, you'll know it was squats day.<br />
<br />Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-61205819412795361602017-08-15T20:39:00.000-07:002017-08-15T20:39:39.756-07:00Recipe Review: Sausage and CabbageIf you want to just snag the recipe, jump to the bottom.<br />
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A little bit ago, I got the "Irish Cooking Bible" as a gift. I honestly couldn't tell you if this is legit Irish food or not, but so far it's been good!<br />
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Tonight I made Smoked Sausage and Cabbage (page 72 if you have the book).<br />
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I'm not sure what I was expecting, but not what came out. It was bitter, sweet, and savory all at once. The cabbage was slightly bitter. I used sweet onions so, obviously, they were sweeter than the cabbage. For sausage, I couldn't find smoked sausage, so I used an Irish sausage from Johnsonville.<br />
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The directions are really simple. It would have been really hard to mess this up.<br />
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Step one was to cut the sausage and brown them in a pan. So I did, like so:<br />
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Mind you, this was before they were browned.<br />
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I honestly have never cut a sausage before in my life. They're a little icky. The weird wrapper thing that holds the squished stuff together...ew. Super tasty, but ew.<br />
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I also have never cut cabbage. It said to cut it coarsely, so I left it big. I also got a little carried away:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fGbK_Fnan5w/WZO63B-pjAI/AAAAAAAAbpY/TL-bi9v4J4Aytzv6EXrWfX_Ns0FlZiL1QCKgBGAs/s1600/20170815_200106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fGbK_Fnan5w/WZO63B-pjAI/AAAAAAAAbpY/TL-bi9v4J4Aytzv6EXrWfX_Ns0FlZiL1QCKgBGAs/s320/20170815_200106.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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That is definitely more than 6 cups. My bad. The amount of cabbage wasn't a huge problem. It was the size of my skillet that was a problem:<br />
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I need a bigger skillet.<br />
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So these are the only steps. Cut and brown sausage. Cut and brown the cabbage and onions. No big deal.<br />
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After everything is thrown together, the book says it should look like this:<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zp0Bsd39QlY/WZO7kHrtUzI/AAAAAAAAbpg/JnBUQgDHIn8yi-yHMh-6MPxhRSnpE7Y2QCKgBGAs/s1600/20170815_204836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zp0Bsd39QlY/WZO7kHrtUzI/AAAAAAAAbpg/JnBUQgDHIn8yi-yHMh-6MPxhRSnpE7Y2QCKgBGAs/s320/20170815_204836.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Mine turned out a little less photogenic: </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8p0kr9Rre44/WZO7uegVanI/AAAAAAAAbpk/2QtphAgB3K0EB6O3f94eS0AeQDf41U_ogCKgBGAs/s1600/20170815_204749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8p0kr9Rre44/WZO7uegVanI/AAAAAAAAbpk/2QtphAgB3K0EB6O3f94eS0AeQDf41U_ogCKgBGAs/s320/20170815_204749.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The towel looks amazing, the food looks less colorful. I realize they don't typically photograph actual food cooked the way it says it is, but I like to pretend it's attainable by following the recipe. </div>
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Finally, we ate it. It wasn't bad. It's not something I could eat every day. I would get a little...bored...with it. Maybe if I had other things with it, like potatoes or something. Next time. </div>
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Richi loved it. He ate a lot of it. His review: </div>
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"The only thing I would change is the sausage. I would add more sausage!" </blockquote>
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There you have it! It's a very simple meal. Took less than ten minutes to make (not including my fight with the cabbage). Super nice for a weeknight like tonight. I'll probably make it again. Not right away, but maybe later in the fall.<br />
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K, now for the recipe:<br />
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1 lb smoked sausage, cut into 2-in. pieces (more sausage is probably better)<br />
1 Tbsp olive oil<br />
6 cups coarsely chopped cabbage (more cabbage requires more space, just fyi)<br />
1 onion<br />
2 cloves of garlic<br />
3/4 tsp sugar<br />
1/4 tsp caraway seeds<br />
1/4 tsp salt<br />
1/4 tsp pepper<br />
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1. Cook the sausage in a large skillet (they mean <i>large</i>) until browned. Remove sausage to a plate.<br />
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2. Heat the oil in the same skillet (get all that sausagey goodness leftover). Cook the remaining ingredients in the skillet until the onion is brown.<br />
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3. Add the sausage back. Cook covered for 5 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes before eating.<br />
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VOILA! <br />
<br />Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-87435352353750145592017-08-13T09:00:00.000-07:002017-08-13T09:00:13.756-07:00An Unofficial Guide to Family History: Build a Foundation for the FutureIt's been a <i>long</i> while since I posted about family history. I'm sorry. I said before that I will be posting as I am working, and right now I have been hitting dead ends.<br />
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One thing, though, that is often overlooked in family history is the future. It makes sense because it isn't called family future. Something that is very important, though, is record keeping.<br />
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You can browse family history documents, like censuses and marriage licenses. That's not what I mean though. I mean journals, photos, etc.<br />
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One of the most important things I have received while working on family history is a book of poems by a great-grandma.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/w3faiZnpkGnj45atNrYS6e89xZF7I7-SD5LN5UhHswqkziDfD5zb2DahnuAXCdX7ykHLeU9zP_tiBGsH40Dr7Ymkda0SmKEWnO8wcgo_JYv2RO5tCWiHGpXtK3x9DO-4d7BwUmU6ohkKmWQaG9FWZdH1VHjrrZ72tShS6WWiHftr2sB2vm5HdCF2ZFB6gPHtn_plFItAWwLgP3nUSlT-AP7TnYpQshyP7TaDOgmL4ViYhbaxw2biDm95D_qdAedXDsVyPMYeTcsEtEAKMo-r0GEXKUCIk6PLQNxo5D3J8SatUEisi8yonL3eJgWnX-cUO64TsyrbzYhm4Ni91oci43RR1oDcWepoPxwJhXAknYHO-FTZ-7irTMqiPMtMsn9smK5k74BtzmnFd8v3bfMfU0WYOrBP7zNj5YCNEJs1o5O4HS8IfdHRmzZIp73VE0U9LjCKgC1iHWjBwyCeBj8iuxpocHYJe7gjtH0TaIYzZbhW3BzvCOfbkfQB000v5f1kniGTNhKtsgvRI2IUXvZgiBnN8wr7vCHFnsglqF08eoGjGgA5VKOJ_cClFY3TBewZkveU=w673-h897-no" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/w3faiZnpkGnj45atNrYS6e89xZF7I7-SD5LN5UhHswqkziDfD5zb2DahnuAXCdX7ykHLeU9zP_tiBGsH40Dr7Ymkda0SmKEWnO8wcgo_JYv2RO5tCWiHGpXtK3x9DO-4d7BwUmU6ohkKmWQaG9FWZdH1VHjrrZ72tShS6WWiHftr2sB2vm5HdCF2ZFB6gPHtn_plFItAWwLgP3nUSlT-AP7TnYpQshyP7TaDOgmL4ViYhbaxw2biDm95D_qdAedXDsVyPMYeTcsEtEAKMo-r0GEXKUCIk6PLQNxo5D3J8SatUEisi8yonL3eJgWnX-cUO64TsyrbzYhm4Ni91oci43RR1oDcWepoPxwJhXAknYHO-FTZ-7irTMqiPMtMsn9smK5k74BtzmnFd8v3bfMfU0WYOrBP7zNj5YCNEJs1o5O4HS8IfdHRmzZIp73VE0U9LjCKgC1iHWjBwyCeBj8iuxpocHYJe7gjtH0TaIYzZbhW3BzvCOfbkfQB000v5f1kniGTNhKtsgvRI2IUXvZgiBnN8wr7vCHFnsglqF08eoGjGgA5VKOJ_cClFY3TBewZkveU=w673-h897-no" width="240" /></a></div>
I've never read a poem that touched me nearly as much as this.<br />
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I've also gotten the opportunity to help my grandma mount her travel photos, which comes with stories of the places she has visited. After an afternoon of mounting, I cannot stop smiling.<br />
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Photos, personal writings, they are what bring your ancestors to life again in a way official documents can't.<br />
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What does that have to do with the future? Well sometime, you will become the past. You are laying a foundation for the future. Someday, your descendants will want to know <i>who</i> you were, not just where you lived. It's important you start building that foundation.<br />
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But writing in a journal can be really hard to maintain. I understand. There are many ways you can keep a journal, though. You don't need to write down the events of each day in order to keep a good journal. In fact, sometimes less is more.<br />
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It's easy for me to sit here and tell you to write in your journal. After all, I write in mine. From ages 8-16, I wrote in my journal daily. While that is great, it isn't necessary (especially if you ever have to move, journals weigh a ton). You only need to write what matters most to you. Did you see something amazing? Did you hear a song that made you smile? Did you talk to someone who touched you?<br />
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Sometimes we aren't good with words. That's alright. I have a journal that I fill with words, but then I also have what I call my adventure journal. Instead of loading it with words, I load it with items from "adventures" I have. Then I jot a quick sentence about what I loved, or hated, about the experience. There are a lot of movie tickets and playbills in there. My descendants will know how much we enjoyed entertainment.<br />
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7wTq3PZ3Yyo/WYvyxoWki8I/AAAAAAAAbNU/wszzkY3xXYgqkzouqlmku9br7I06fwbwACKgBGAs/s1600/20170809_234016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7wTq3PZ3Yyo/WYvyxoWki8I/AAAAAAAAbNU/wszzkY3xXYgqkzouqlmku9br7I06fwbwACKgBGAs/s320/20170809_234016.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />Here, this is what my adventure journal looks like:<br />
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As you can see, it's just a blue book (bonus, it's the "Diary of River Song" if you watch Dr. Who). The pages inside are just blank, not lined, nothing fancy.<br />
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Then I use acid free mounting tape to attach the items. When it comes to tickets, I tape them on one side so they can "open" up like a small door. Underneath I write what I enjoyed.<br />
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These definitely aren't "pinterest" worthy photos. My journal is far from those beautiful creations people post online. But that's alright. A journal is personal. If you want a fancy journal, with beautiful handwriting, then do it! If you don't care, then don't sweat it. The most important aspect of journaling is the information. It's meant to be a preservation of your memories, not a showpiece for the world.<br />
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Right now, you are living in what will be considered the past. You are making memories that will mean the world to someone who isn't even born yet. If I had a journal of the lives of my great-great-grandmas, I would be in heaven. I am here because of "average" people living their lives. I am here because one day someone probably took a road trip that changed their life, or maybe they met a funny stranger. Who knows! One day, your descendants will thank you for taking the time to jot down "I really hated that Justin Bieber song". Give them a chance to get to know you. Let your memories survive the eternities. Write in a journal.<br />
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P.S. I started writing this post in September of 2016, and finished in August 2017. Just in case the first and second halves seem disconnected.Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-54823364384597759622017-08-09T22:19:00.000-07:002017-08-09T22:19:45.122-07:00Longer Time, No SeeLast time I posted, I had every intention of writing often, I thought maybe I'd make some profound statements about marriage. Maybe I'd give expert advice for other first time moms. Instead I neglected my blog and lived my life.<br />
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I could attempt to fill you in on every little detail of the past year, but let's be serious. I don't even remember what happened yesterday. Life zooms by so quickly that everything blurs together like riding a train in the rain (near a plane with your friend Jermaine). Unlike a train in the rain, though, life doesn't stop to let you off. Instead you have to enjoy the ride, jot down the important details, and relax.<br />
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That's what we've done this year. We've grabbed the memories we can with pictures and journal entries. We've relaxed together after long days and weeks. We've enjoyed every tiring second of every exhausting day<br />
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The trite phrase "they grow up so quickly" is often said sadly, as if to say watching the baby grow isn't amazing. M is growing quickly. Amazingly quick. But that's the fun! Every day he learns something knew. He astounds us with his talents. His smile and laugh melt our hearts (he thinks he's hilarious). Every day we get to cuddle him, help him, guide him, and love him. It's incredible to watch him experience life.<br />
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That sounds like we know we won't have him long. As if he was born with an illness that could take him at any minute. That's not the case. There are many, many families out there riding that train. That is not our train. We got lucky. M was born 5 weeks early, but never saw the NICU. He was placed in my arms when they pulled him out (well, as much as he could have been with me so medicated), and we got to come home the same day I did. I wouldn't trade that for the world, but I also don't plan on taking these moments for granted. I don't know what the world holds for M or our family, but for now we are enjoying every small moment.<br />
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Speaking of moments, here's the one I am enjoying right now:<br />
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Night time is one of my favorite times. Mostly because I am a <i>huge</i> fan of sleep, but also because he talks in his sleep. He coos and giggles. I don't know what angels dream about, but I bet it's marvelous.<br />
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I am not promising I'll be back, but you might just see a little more of me around. (And if you don't re-read this post, because it's likely nothing will have changed.)Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-50976035741461935872016-09-28T19:57:00.000-07:002016-09-28T19:57:33.179-07:00Long Time No SeeHave I used that title before? Probably. But it's true. I haven't posted in a while.<br />
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I won't bore you with all the mundane details of what has happened since I last posted. (When was that? I don't even remember.)<br />
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The biggest thing that happened was my wedding! Woot Woot!<br />
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The process was an ordeal. No one told me that before going into it...and I kept it simple. I got my dress for $30 at Macy's (don't knock it. I bargained for a discount, and it was on sale anyway). We got married in a temple, and had the reception and luncheon at a church. So (other than food), both free. Including food, clothes, and decor, we didn't spend over $1000. (This was largely due to all the donations and help we received from our families.)<br />
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But even with all that simplicity, it was an ordeal. Moving was an ordeal (have I mentioned that I have never moved in my life until now?). Getting settled is an ordeal (it's a work in progress). Learning my new role in life is an ordeal. It's all very new.<br />
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The hardest part for me was changing my name and having a small identity crisis. I don't know if everyone feels that, but I certainly did. I was no longer at the front of the alphabet. Instead I'm nestled in the middle. Waking up each morning in a room that wasn't familiar was hard. Trying to find outfits in my new clothes arrangement was hard. Looking back, this all sounds so silly, but it was difficult. No one told me about that part of being married. If they had, maybe I'd have better prepared for it.<br />
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It's over now (the crisis, not the marriage), and it feels like it never happened. It's almost as if I've always been a wife. It feels like Rich and I have been married since the dawn of time. It feels like my new home has always been my home (except, I still can't find things in the kitchen). It feels like this has been my life for longer than two months. I feel like if I ever switched back (my name, bed, room) I would be more lost. This all just feels right.<br />
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Anyway, enough of the words. In case you don't follow my Instagram, or you don't look at my photos on FB, here are a couple of pictures for ya:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our doormat. Welcome Home! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turning these rooms into a home. The bottom right was our cake topper. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27b-ml5mwB0/V-yCKxhecDI/AAAAAAAASH0/BNePS_yeGtQAJp9DG73HeTt_65DbqKI3gCLcB/s1600/wedding1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27b-ml5mwB0/V-yCKxhecDI/AAAAAAAASH0/BNePS_yeGtQAJp9DG73HeTt_65DbqKI3gCLcB/s320/wedding1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Scott Twitchell</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Scott Twitchell. Cake by Stacey Cazier.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This family right here is a large reason for my wedding going so smoothly. Not only did they give me great examples growing up, they also helped pull together a wonderful wedding. I am so lucky to have them in my life. </td></tr>
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I'm going to try to post more. Maybe. No promises.Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346982808552899720.post-64886864078811826622016-02-27T12:22:00.000-08:002016-02-27T12:26:30.415-08:00An Unofficial Guide to Family History: Part 2 -- Gathering InformationThis really should have been part one. Like I said, I am just explaining this as I do it.<br />
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Gathering information should be the first step. It's what you need in order to do anything.<br />
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Without information, you won't be able to really accomplish anything.<br />
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For some of you, gathering will be easy. For others, not so much. It's okay. These aren't timed steps. Just steps.<br />
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Here are some ways to gather information:<br />
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Family. </h4>
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Obviously. If you are researching your family, talk to them. If you have any older living relatives, they will be the biggest fountain of knowledge. Take notes. What they say will escape your brain faster than seventh grade algebra. I thought for sure I would remember everyone, but that was a little much to expect of myself. </div>
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For example, I have a confusing home life. We live with my grandma. We being my nephew, brothers, niece, aunt, mom. I live here, so it's easy. If you don't, it makes no sense. I got to meet a couple of cousins this past fall. Grandma drew out a family tree for them. They still were confused. And we are alive. Imagine the difficulty of remembering names and dates for people who have passed. Not easy. </div>
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Take notes. Ask them to take notes for you. Record your conversations. Even the dullest pencil is better than the sharpest mind. Write that down so you don't forget. </div>
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Books.</h4>
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This one might not work for everyone. Some of you might have books. Some of you might not. I am lucky enough to have books. Want to see? </div>
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These are just a few of the books I have. I have read one and a half of them. The pieces I have read have been amazing. My Great Grandma had a great sense of humor. </div>
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You might have some of these books lying around. </div>
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You might even have a family bible. Aside from having spiritual benefits, these bibles often held family information (birth and death dates, marriages, etc.). I feel like almost every family has one of these. </div>
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Family Search and Ancestry.</h4>
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These have a lot of records digitized. This option is a little tough if you have nothing to go on. They do have obituaries and census records that often hold some really awesome information. To utilize these, you need an ancestor's name, any dates associated with them, and any locations. </div>
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Using this can often require a lot of patience. I don't have a ton of patience, so I use this one sparingly these days. If you have the time and patience, you can use these whenever you want! Parents have to sleep sometime, but the internet never does. If you have insomnia, feel free to research your ancestors. You will be productive, and often times, reading the search results gets tiring. Maybe it'll help you sleep. </div>
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Family Friends.</h4>
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This one is like family, except different. These are people who knew your parents or grandparents. They are the ones who pinch your cheeks at weddings and say "I remember when you were knee-high to a grasshopper! My, how you've grown!" Often times, you might not actually know these people. It's okay. They tend to be nice. </div>
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They also might have a lot of fun stories you can glean information from. </div>
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For example, my sixth grade teacher used to tell us hilarious stories about his childhood best friend. Turns out that teacher's best friend was my cousin! I didn't realize this until the end of the year. I haven't met this cousin, but I now have stories about his childhood that make me laugh all the time. </div>
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Sometimes, the stories will be about things they did that also have clues about needed information. "I remember one summer, when we were celebrating his birthday," one of them might say about a grandparent. Aha! Your grandpa was born in the summer. Good to know. </div>
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Have you ever watched Sherlock Holmes? You might want to. You'll need to study his deducing skills. </div>
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These are the most common ways to find information. </div>
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Do you have any other ways to find information? I need to know! </div>
Morgan Mikelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10155713984479527571noreply@blogger.com0