Christmas: the day before and after

It is Christmas Eve. I think I love this day better than actual Christmas because for our family its just a family day to just hang out. No worries about who we need to visit next. The magic of Christmas is still in the air. Its just a lovely day. Much better than the day after. Or is it?

Listen to this song tomorrow when you are having a bit of a post Christmas let down. Its a good one, and a reminder of what this is all about.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvM3Lp_BZeQ

A moment of longing

This month has flown by, this year has flown by, time flies by. Today was a new experience for me and my husbands family, we celebrated Christmas early so we could all be together. It felt strange at first but once it began it was Christmas. The best part was it wasn't rushed, it wasn't full of grumpy kids who woke up before dawn, and we had time to laugh.

   Time is such a constant hum in the back ground of our lives. We watch the clock for the next event. We watch the clock saying when this happens things will be different. We watch the clock and still wonder where the time goes. 

    Some things in my life have made me question what will the future bring. What will I miss if I am no longer here. The things I'd miss each day if I were to be taken from this life. The things I'd miss if I didn't see my children everyday or if I wasn't there for life events.  For a few moments today I felt like I was getting an image of whAt I might miss in the future. People who have become my family over the last 10 years. Seeing my kids play with cousins who are about discover the opposite sex. Watching my shy little E hid in my arm from aunts who want to scoop her up and love her. 

  What does my future hold, where will I be in a week, a month, a year. I pray it will be with my children. Each little moment is pressious. I long to get back the moments that I've waisted over the past 10 years. I long to get my life back into a constant state of happiness. Time does not go back, I'm glad it doesnt for it would take the good away too, time can only go forward and I can create the good.

Happy 3rd Birthday My Miracle Baby Shane!

  There were many days as you were fighting for your life I didn't think this day would come. This road has not been an easy one,. Your strength has fought many statistics and proven doctors wrong. Your smile allows me to see heaven and always be reminded of the TRUE miracle you are. When you throw your fits I remember you are strong willed,because thats how you fought for your life. I will always remember your first word because it was such a tasks for you to finally say it. I know this journey is not over with you and as you grow I continue to fight for you. 

 My precious Shane, I will not stop fighting for you because you didn't stop fighting when your mom wanted to continually hold you. Shane your mom loves you and I hope you will understand one day that the lord saved you and gave you life when he didn't have to. He has a plan for you and I hope you full fill every bit of it, whatever it may be! You are such a great big brother and I love seeing your personality develop and Change. You were truly a blessing for us. I love you! Mom

The Bully

Bully: A person who uses strength or power to harm or intimidate someone weaker.

Everyone knows a bully. Everyone has been bullied or maybe even been the bully themselves.

I wasn't too popular in school. I knew it. I was different. Even a little weird. Sometimes I was ok with it and sometimes I wasn't. But I wish I had confidence then like I do now. 

I am going to share a few of my personal bully experiences but I'm not doing it for a pity party. I promise there is a point to it. :) 

I can distinctly remember the night after cheerleader try outs my 8th grade year. I made the squad. I had celebrated with my family, I called my grandparents, and texted my friends all night. Before I went to shower I plugged my phone in to charge. When I came back I had a miss call and a voicemail. I can still hear the voice on the message so clearly. 

"U-G-L-Y! U-G-L-Y! You ugly!" 

I remember looking at myself in my bedroom floor length mirror as I listened. My scrawny 13 year old self. And I burst into tears. Because I believed it. And I believed it for a long time. I never told anyone about the message. I was so embarrassed about it. But I let it control my thoughts for too long. 

Another time was the summer before my senior year. I was in the choir presidency and we were having a meeting at a park. I was waiting for a ride from a dear friend in my ward. 

I heard her pull up and knock on the door. 

I opened the door ready to go. And then I noticed her nervous expression. 

"I didn't do it," she said. 

"I don't know who did. But you need to come see this." 

And there, on my very own driveway, in permanent marker, someone wrote, "Avery is a.... (Long list of profanities)." 

Thankfully my mom is a master as getting stains out so she immediately scrubbed it off. I went to the meeting (that didn't last long because no one else showed up) and then I went home. I remember staring at the spot where the message was and wondering what I did to make someone hate me so much. This bullying incident is probably the closest I ever came to experiencing depression before I had children. 

Now, here I am. Just a few months away from my 21st birthday. I'm a little more confident in myself and I've learned to shake off rude comments and ignore bullies like everyone says to. 

Except one. 

There is a bully who just won't leave me alone. She is cruel. She is unforgiving. And she is hard to ignore because she is me. 

Some of the symptoms of PPD are feelings of helplessness, guilt and inadequacy. This second round of PPD wasn't as obvious as the first. It started with little thoughts here and there. 

"I snapped at Tyler. That was bad. I'm ashamed and sorry. I need to do better." 

"I can't keep up with the house work. I am just not cut out to be a good wife and mother." 

"I just sounded like an idiot in front of a customer. I just need to keep my dumb mouth shut. No wonder no one wants to hang out with me."

I am the bully. 

A fellow PPD survivor recently said, "Be kind to yourself." 

And every time one of those mean thoughts comes into my head I can hear those words. 

Be kind to yourself. 

I can't run from this bully. 

But I can stand up for myself.

And I'm ready for this bully to be gone for good. 

Postpartum depression isn't forever

2 years ago:
I  cried. All the time--in the bathroom, in the car. Basically anywhere I was alone. I thought of driving my car off the side of the road into a big ditch, but decided to wait until after Christmas. I wanted Ava to be able to look at pictures of Christmas and have at least one year with me. I was exhausted. I was scared to be alone. I fought with my husband. I yelled at my kids. I had horrible anxiety attacks and flashbacks. I avoided certain things that reminded me of my labor and delivery several months earlier. This was my life. Every. Single. Day.

That is the face of postpartum mood disorders. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and at the time of the diagnosis that's all I had. I did get postpartum depression later, after I stopped seeing my counselor, but at that time I had learned coping mechanisms from my PTSD. Everything about the first 2 years of my daughter's life is cloudy. It was rough to say the least.


Today:
I am advancing in a career that I love. I have some of the best friends I could ask for. I fall in love with my children even more each day and laugh way too much at their shenanigans. And have a husband that would take on the worlds strongest man if I asked him to. While, I had all that two years ago, today The difference is I am happy. I wake up (reluctantly, I hate mornings) knowing that today is going to be great like the day before. I have had my fair share of trials. I lost my grandma recently. Things break down. Kids don't listen. Dishes break at the most inconvenient time. But, deep down, I am happy. And that, my friend, is a miracle.

That is the face of a survivor. That is the life of a warrior mom.

Life doesn't have to end with PPD and related disorders. It does get better. You can do more than survive, you can totally rock life. It does take time. It does take recognition and hope. Seek help. Talk about it. It gets better!!!. I won't lie, I do get moments where my old brain creeps in, but I am able to keep it at bay for the most part. Happiness is something I had to work for at one time, so now, when it so naturally comes, I don't take it for granted.

Dollar Store Decorative Pallet

I recently noticed that wood pallets are really popular for decorations right now. So I decided to do a wood pallet made of styrofoam from my local Dollar Tree. You can find the styrofoam board usually near the school and office supplies with the poster boards.

You'll need:
One styrofoam board

Paint (acrylic from Walmart, 50 cents a bottle)

Hot Glue Gun

Paint brush 

An Exacto knife or very sharp knife 

Total cost: $2-5. (I had most things already on hand) 

I have used this board for a previous pallet project but this is pretty much what it looks like. 

First, decide your size and cut it out. I make mine 10x15. Next, cut your board into long strips. I only do four but you can do as many as you want. Then, cut two pieces that are about the height of your pallet. I think they look more wood like if they are a bit uneven but if you are OCD you can use a ruler to help you cut perfectly straight and even strips.

Then, peel off the paper layer on both sides of your board strips. 

Ok, at this point you have two options. You can be a little lazy and glue your board together right now. I have done this with two of my pallets and they still turned out great. But for this tutorial I am painting the boards first before gluing because I think it gives it more detail and looks more wood-like. I will give an example of each option though.  If you want to just glue it now, this is what it should look like. 

Arrange the boards into the shape of your pallet. I like to stagger my boards just a little bit.

The side you are going to paint needs to be facing down. Then run your glue gun vertically a few inches from the edge on both sides and put your two smaller boards on the glue.

(This is what the BACK of your pallet should look like after gluing. The two back boards and glue hold your boards together.) 

Then you're ready to paint! Unless you're doing it very detailed like I am for this piece. Then you need to paint before gluing. 

For a more wood-like appearance, this is my secret weapon. A brush that has stiff bristles instead of soft. (No idea what it is called, so if you know leave it in the comments!)

Paint your first color going the same direction the whole way. 

You don't really need to paint the smaller pieces since they aren't seen but I did anyway. 

Next I highly recommend painting the edges. Preferably a color that compliments your base color. It makes the whole pieces look more professional. If you chose to glue your pallet before painting be sure to paint the outside edges of your pallet as well. I also like to do a small rough edging around my boards.

Once it is dry, I always use a TINY amount of brown paint to to make it look like wood. Just random small and light strokes. Not too many. If it looks too harsh, take the original color and blend it in. I recommend blending a lot because it looks more natural. 

When I paint my whole pallets brown I use black and a little cream to make a more wood-like appearance like in my thanksgiving pallet.

Once that fully dries you can glue it all together just like I showed above! 

(Back after glued together) 

(Front after glued together)

This next picture is to show you the difference when you glue the pallet together before painting and when you glue after painting. 

Top is painting first, bottom is gluing first. 

Next is the lettering and decorating! You can do this in a few different ways. You can use stencils and get it perfect, or you can hand write/draw what you want on a regular piece of paper and then arrange it on the board where you want them. Take a ball point pen and trace it onto the styrofoam pushing just hard enough to leave an imprint of where to paint. Take a thin paintbrush and follow the imprints. That's how I did my lemonade pallet. 

Or you can pick a font on your computer and print it out and trace it on to your pallet the same way. That is what I'm doing for this pallet. 

Then you can leave as is or decorate! 

I'm not much of an artist so I apologize for my funny snowflakes! But I hope this inspires you to make your own pallet and get your crafty on! Enjoy!

Dear mom

Dear mom,
You brought your disabled daughter to a public tea party. I wanted to say thanks for bringing her and showing my kids it's ok to be different. I wanted to say it's ok that she is a little unruly, I get it. I wanted to say, my kids have thrown even bigger tantrums in public. I wanted to say she is beautiful. I wanted to say that I work with children in similar circumstances and it is awesome that you are letting her experience this, even though it's a lot of work.  I wanted to say I have had to leave places because my child couldn't take the crowd too. I wanted to.

But I didn't.

I had a chance to possibly make you feel a little bit better, you were obviously worn down. And I didn't.

I don't know why either.

Maybe I will have the strength to next time.

Christmas Story: The Year of the Flood

I'll be honest, I'm so stressed right now with everything that I have going on that I am a bit of a Scrooge this year. I'm just not feeling like pulling out the tree and decorating because it seems like so much more work. And the fact we are having an Indian Summer instead of a white Christmas isn't helping. So to help me get into the Christmas spirit, I decided to share my favorite Christmas stories every Friday this month. This one is a personal one. It is my most memorable Christmas.

I was about 11 years old. A week or so after Thanksgiving, a pipe busted and flooded two floors of our house. Everything was ruined except what was in our bedrooms on the top floor, but the main floor and basement had about two feet of water. I remember our church and family all came over to help pump the water out and save what we could. I remember I had to stay in my room all day while the adults worked downstairs. I remember my mom crying. 

I was old enough to know that Santa was the spirit of giving and not an actual person. And that morning I knew that he probably wouldn't be visiting us that year. We lost so much and had to pay for a lot of damages. And I was right. 

As Christmas grew closer, I remember my mom trying to explain to my four younger siblings that Santa wouldn't be bringing much this year. We all had such big hopes for a Christmas miracle. Maybe daddy would get an extra big Christmas bonus. 

On Christmas Eve, Mom made us gather around her big bed.  Daddy was at work and wouldn't be home until early the next morning. She told us we were going to sing and say a prayer to thank Heavenly Father for all that we did have, even if it wasn't much. Just then, the doorbell rang. Mom went to answer it. I listened at the top of the stairs. 

"Sister Hintze, we have a few things here for you. You can protest and pretend you don't need this, but I'm still going to bring it in anyway." 

I watched as the Bishop of our ward and one of his counselors brought in two big boxes. I remember feeling a little embarrassed because we didn't have a real floor. The carpet and tile were ruined in the flood. It was just white, bare wood that was left. We had to wear shoes or we would step on splinters. 

The bishop shook Mom's hand, wished her a Merry Christmas and then left. We all raced down the stairs to open the boxes. 

One box was full of food. Food that we really needed. Mom was especially happy to open that box. She cried. I didn't really care at the time because it didn't occur to me that we were struggling for food, but now that I am a mom myself I know exactly why she cried.

The other box was full of gifts for all of us. Each carefully wrapped with our names on them. Santa had come after all. Mom put the presents under the tree and turned the Christmas lights on. She made us all go back upstairs to her room. 

Then we knelt down as a family and thanked Heavenly Father for our Christmas miracle. The spirit was so strong. Mom and I cried. We sang hymns and Christmas songs until mom made us go to bed.  

The next morning we were so excited and so thankful we even got to open presents. I got a new outfit for school, some natural colored make up items, a hair brush and a journal. The journal was my favorite. I still have it. Only now it is full of my adventures as a twelve year old in Jr. High. I remember feeling so thankful that someone went out of their way to give my family a Christmas. I never thought I would be on the receiving end of such generosity and charity.

 I don't know who did it, but I wish so much that I could thank them and tell them how much it meant to us. We still talk about it as the best Christmas we ever had. It has been 10 years since that Christmas and I still tear up when I remember it. 

My mom used to say that Christmas was more than just a day. It is a month long celebration. Decorations, lights on every street and house, parties, excitement, music, selflessness, giving, service... The whole world celebrates all month long. So my holiday season begins right now. I am going to pull out the tree as soon as I can. (Which isn't until tomorrow night, maybe Sunday morning... It depends on how tired I am!)

Merry Christmas!  

-Avery