Mummy Makeover.

Well you asked for it.
After many years of desire and selling my harley, I chose B and It has been 3 weeks.
Sorry no pictures on this blog :)
I have several friends who have done this. I say friends because when some associate from your ward or gym is willing to flash you there stuff on request, I think it makes us friends. Be warned, ladies with new perky boobs will often show you there stuff even when you don't ask or just have them on full display at the local pool behind a small piece of fabric and string. You know you've mumbled about there fake Knockers but really would love to buy a swimsuit based on it's cuteness rather than it's ability to hold up the girls. I digress.
So I researched different docs, each with there specialty. I looked at many before and after pics ( shocking and gross but comforting to know I am not alone in the before, horror shot.) I was concerned with recommendation, experience, manner, pictures, after care, pain management and generally how I felt. Not so concerned with cost since they were all close.
I was surprised how different each place was despite the procedure being similar.
My biggest fear was pain. I would've done this years ago but since I had heard descriptions like "I begged my husband to shoot me in the face to put me out of my misery!" I was pretty apprehensive. Dr Bishop had me at "you will have a pain pump flowing a constant anaesthetic to the area for 5 days :)" SOLD!!!!
I also chose him cos on one of before mentioned flashing's, I observed that his experience with stitching hands meant his scars were virtually invisible.

So I paid my money and waited a month for the big day. I didn't mention it to hardly anyone because I thought if even a slight doubt was placed in front of me I would've bailed.
So why am I telling of my secret now? Actually, I am just relieved and impressed to report it wasn't as bad as I imagined. I had the surgery AM,it took 5 hours and by evening time I was standing and into a chair, where I stayed over night in a really nice facility at the riverwoods. I had one on one nurses care and plenty of morphine. I was smiling on my way out of there just 24 hours later.


I spent the first few days asleep in a recliner thanks to drugs and my sweet hubby taking care of everything and by day 5 I was returning to the docs for my first check and dreaded drain and pump removal.
It turned out the pain drugs had worn off and I had already gone past the worst so at this point Ibuprofen was all I needed. Yes on day 5!
The removal of pumps however was a definite gag me moment.
You know when your at the "bugs life" 4D show in Disney and the slug runs under your butt...well imagine felling it pulled right across your body under the skin. Nuf said.
So from there on it's, try to stand up straight, don't cough or sneeze, lower back ache from being bent over. Cabin fever, totally rubbish TV and a house that looks in need of a Mum even though sweet hubby has busted a gut to keep on top of stuff.

Was it worth it? Honestly it's too early to say. My inability to work out has left me a bit negative, I rely on that for my happy feelings. The scar itself is a bit lumpy and unsightly as expected but I still have stretch marks above it so it's not like I'm clean and clear after all this. My skin above the incision is numb and feels thick like a whale when I touch it, they say that feeling will return.To top it off I haven't had a good nights sleep since I stopped the big drugs.
Ask me in 3 weeks and I'm sure I will be all better.

On a plus side, my boobs look blooming fantastic, like a teenager! I'll show you if you like :) KIDDING!!

To tell or NOT to tell.....

That is the question?
So I wonder how many people read this blog anyway but I have seriously considered this next post.
The Mummy Makeover! You know what I'm talking about. The extreme kind where you try to get your body back to it's pre- mummy state.
It's something I have considered for years. My very first baby left me with stretch marks from naval to hoo ha, a 3 inch roll of skin over my belt and boobs I could've tied in a bow (sorry to shatter any illusions of me)and so here I am 18 years and 3 babies later. My options are:
A) Refill said skin and boob sacks with all kinds of nummy fat food (trust me I've tried this option, one big mac in each bra.
B) Visit an experienced, well trained and sometimes a bit excentric doctor to take care of it.
Which would you choose?
So after diet, excersice and much thought,I'm ready to tell the tale if anyone's interested.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I know I am not your typical sahm--I really struggle with some of this mommy stuff. I adore my children, I love being a mom, and I know it is the most important thing that I can do ever...BUT! I love the first day of school! Only five more days until all 4 of my children are in school all day everyday! Yes, for the first time in 8 years, I will be home alone. And no, I will NOT be crying!

If you knew me before....

Coming to America at age 25 meant a new start for me. I could walk, yes I said walk, to the store and guarantee NEVER seeing a familiar face. It's very strange and quite a bit lonely.
It's been 13 years and that is no longer the case in fact it's hard to go anywhere without recognizing someone (even if your somewhere you shouldn't be :)
Recently the world of facebook has opened up to me and many of you too and we find ourselves reconnecting with people who meant allot to us in our past. People who knew us as fun loving kids, athletic and talented. People we studied with played pranks on and dreamed with. Of course they want to know what your up to and It got me thinking how different life can be.
If you knew me before, I was on every team I could fit in my schedule from cross country to netball, hockey, swimming, and of course track, my best. But I also did gymnastics and judo, played the flute, was a brownie and girl guide. I always had some sort of back yard club or shed party going on. I was pretty bright and went to a special school.
My college years were my favorite. I joined the church, I got married and pregnant too young :( I was a pretty decent hairstylist and loved to work at a fancy spa for no money, my dream to one day own a place like that. I worked at mcdonalds and had a blast there, I was a single parent at 21 and struggled to keep my water heater on. I slept many nights with 2 little boys under my arms from fear. I loved to dance, I still do and I laugh and joke about everything in public.

So for those who knew me then, how different life is now. For those who know me now, well I have a membership to a fancy club but I couldn't be further from that person.
I like my life, I like who I am and what I do daily. Not glamorous or dream worthy but my choice and my consequence.
So what about you? What would I have seen if I knew you before?

Silence.

Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with the thoughts jumping in my head that I become quite quiet. I know, hard to believe, I usually have an opinion on most things.
Lately, since this blog world has opened up to me, I find myself thinking in paragraphs and appropriate pictures. "man I could totally write a blog about that"

It seems my view of life and the world has changed over the years and my thoughts can be very sarcastic, matter of fact, cynical even. I realize if I wrote what I actually thought I would offend just about everyone I know. So it saddens me when I read my blog title "telling it like it is" because I really don't do that anymore.
I mean I really used to!
In some ways that was positive. Friends asked me to go shopping because they knew I would tell the truth about how something looked. In some it was negative, peoples insecurities don't allow them to accept that someone else may have a different view that is uncomfortable for them.
So as I wisely aged, I became more diplomatic and said less about what I really thought, unfortunately going with the flow in allot of cases. Choosing to say nothing.

So here lies my dilemma. When asked the question " are you honest in all your dealings?" the thought of sneaking out of smiths with a melon on the bottom of my cart are not forefront in my mind but rather, Should I have said YES when asked if she looked fat!! Am I therefore being honest?
The fact is, I have very few friends with staying power and with them, Honesty is just a part of me they love, because despite it they know me, and know I would do anything for them, I have a heart wide open with compassion and never judge (unless it's about there hair and clothes , which lets face it, the world could use more honesty in) However, mostly I have associates who regularly call me with there needs and rarely have a clue I might be hurting for something myself. These same people are not ready to hear what deeply thought out, or quickly decided views I have. So I wonder, is it best to be true and keep my friends close? or live on tip toes, hoping for a large funeral and have a multitude of leeches in my life?

I know it's a no brain er.
So my next step would be to move where nobody knows me:) What I did that once already!

Those Scouts!

I know I complained about the whole Scout thing a few weeks ago, but I just had to add something. Last Friday, Vaughn and I took 5 boys from our ward (pretty much the whole Scout troop--no, it's not Utah) to the local soup kitchen to serve lunch to the homeless. I watched them all work cheerfully, greet people politely and serve them with more grace and kindness than I ever could have summoned up at their age. Then they all worked hard to clean up and scrub and wipe down everything. All without a single complaint! When I think of most of their peer group and what a different attitude they would have about giving up sleeping, or playing, or TEXTING for a few hours, I am very humbled by these boys. They truly are amazing and so much better than I was at their age! And to top it all off, they were all up at 6:30 the next morning to go back and do some yard work for the property there. I am sure Heavenly Father is pleased with them. I know I am. And overwhelmed at the thought that I have to be the grownup and teach them something. It seems like I always learn more from children than I ever teach them! These guys give me great hope for the future! I am sure you are surrounded by or are raising children just like these! Pats on the back to all moms out there!

Thoughts on Aging

Dennis is out of town. And I get nervous at night. As I laid all alone in my bed at 1:00 this morning, scared of what I might see if I looked out the window, and scared of what might be standing behind me, and scared of what might happen if someone broke into my house, I was trying to think of happy thoughts so I wouldn't be scared and I could go to sleep.

My scared thoughts wandered to the death of Farrah Fawcett and (*gasp!!*) Michael Jackson and the lady in the book I had just been reading (stupid book). Somehow from there, I started thinking about getting old. And my kids growing up. And me and Dennis aging together. Because we are.

At this point, I realized that I was NOT thinking happy thoughts, but I also wasn't scared anymore. So I went back to my thoughts on aging.

I don't like getting older. Well, no, some things I do like. In fact, I like a lot of things. I like the intelligent and engaging conversations I can have with my children. They're so freaking AWESOME!! Yesterday I had a long conversation with Wade about the distance between Provo and Alaska and the distance between Provo and Venezuela. We also talked about why Halibut are such ugly fish. We contemplated what it might be like to drive to Venezuela. It is 3,482 miles from Provo to Caracas, Venezuela, in case you were wondering. That's a long drive. Longer than to Ketchikan, Alaska.

I also like the security that middle age seems to be bringing to me. I'm not so worried as I once was about what people think of me. I like my wage and my husband's salary. I like it that I wasn't scared to go back to school when I was 37 years old. I was just SO EXCITED. (I did NOT feel that way when I graduated at 23...) I like it that I feel pretty comfortable in my own skin (except for my weight, which I don't want to talk or think about).

I really like it that Dennis and I have been married for 20+ years. We've had four children together, and both survived incredible periods of morning (all day, all night, for 9 months) sickness. We've lost loved ones together. We've been through knee surgeries and stitches, hysterectomies and nervous breakdowns, broken bones and broken hearts. We've hiked mountains, gone camping, canoed and fished, fixed cars, boats, and bikes, we've planted gardens and trees and grape vines. We've built swing sets and sheds. We've installed toilets and dishwashers and ceiling fans (I'd like a couple more of those, if you're reading this, Dennis). We've moved from Utah to Illinois to Florida to Minnesota and back. Several times. We have a huge history together. I LOVE that.

And as hard as it is, I like watching my children grow up. I like watching them spread their wings, while my heart aches, as they learn and mature and get ready to go out into the world. I like to see how handsome/beautiful/smart/clever/capable they are as they grow. I like seeing the adults they are becoming.

I don't like the ways I feel myself wearing out. If I lay in bed and read too long (is four hours too long??) my back and shoulders really hurt. My knees hurt in the mornings. I have more gray hair than I want, but I have to stop pulling them out or I'll be bald. I don't want that, either. My teeth aren't as straight as they used to be, and some of them are starting to wear out. I can't do the splits anymore (who cares, except for me?), and like I mentioned earlier, I totally hate my weight. It's pretty frustrating, too, that the work that would have lost that weight in the past now doesn't get the job done! (I totally blame Krispy Kreme. This is all their fault).

I don't really like the heartache that comes when loved ones make bad choices. I don't like the helpless feeling you get when you have to watch them suffer the consequences of their decisions.

But what I came to realize during my mid-night reverie is that I am pretty happy with my life. Yeah, there are things about getting old that pretty much suck, and I bet they get worse as we get older. But there is certainly joy to be had in this journey of life, and although I often don't recognize it, last night while I was ignoring the scary things lurking in my dark bedroom, I remembered that life is beautiful. My life is beautiful. And even when it isn't, it's mine and Dennis's, and we love each other and we have children and parents and siblings and friends, and jobs and a home, and one car that works. And I was grateful.

And I drifted off to sleep feeling peaceful and calm and wondering how late I could sleep in the morning and still get to work on time.