Mushy, Gushy Love Talk

With today being Valentine’s Day I’ve been seeing a lot of “happy couple” pics.  Don’t get me wrong…I love seeing them!  When I think of my Valentine, I do feel genuinely happy.  Today, however, my mind has been swimming with memories of hard times.  We got engaged 16 years ago (yesterday).  We were both young and skinny and optimistic.  It was that butterfly tummy, giddy smiles, heart palpitating rush kind of love.  Nothing could ever be better or feel more intense.  When I was admitted to the hospital while pregnant with Raychel, I don’t remember much.  What I do remember was James.  I was woken several times by him applying Burt’s Bees to my dried out lips.  When my head was too weak to lift off the pillow, he would spoon sips of water into my mouth.  We would look at each other and just cry.  Cry because we were tired and worried.  He held the pink hospital bucket as I barfed then he’d wipe my face with a cool cloth.  As it usually goes when you’re sick, this mostly took place in the middle of the night-so no one slept.  I was an unshowered, puffy, bloated mess.  Being the man he is, he’d go to work the next morning, come back to the hospital in the evening and do it all over again.  He never complained, and he never expressed any irritation.  He was consistent.  There have been several more bumps in the road since then, and I’ve learned that true love is more than butterflies.  It’s deeper than the surface.  It goes beyond the pretty smiles and glowing skin.  It’s more intense than the physical attraction.  True love is safety and comfort no matter the situation…and some situations are really ugly.  True love is a choice.  I can only imagine how exhausted James must have felt.  How easy it would have been for him to just sleep through or ignore my constant moaning and crying.  He chose to sacrifice his physical comforts so I could feel safe and acknowledged.  That connection is priceless and fought hard for.  I’m thankful that he’s everything I’ve ever wanted.  I’m thankful he completes my life in ways I never knew I needed.

The Good Ol Days...

Our "last first day" at Mark Twain 

Two cute school girls beginning their journey in 2010

My Leah girl...loves all things bright and emojis.

Ready to learn in pre-k

My Anna...always a little wild

Pre-k cutie

My 7th grade sweetie

The other night I had one of those dreams.  I’m not normally a dreamer, and I normally put no extra thought into dreams once I wake up.  Occasionally, however, I will have one that just sticks with me.  This was such a night. 

I was a third party watching my girls giggle and dance…they were probably ages 3 and 5.  The setting was in a spot of my house I know well.  A lot of fun has happened there.  They were donning their princess attire.  Anna as Snow White, Leah as Tinkerbell, and Raychel as this purple dress no-name princess.  I saw my younger self.  I watched my younger self.  I was laughing and enjoying the shenanigans.  But the grown, “3^rd party me” felt sad.  I desperately missed those days.  I knew I would never have that time back.  The time was gone and over.  I woke up sad and heavy.

On the series finale of the sitcom The Office, Andy Bernard said, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”  That’s what I was feeling.  This last school year I noticed a pretty big shift in our mother/daughter dynamic.  Everyone is more independent and opinionated (and not in a bad way).  Raychel has been spouting off some pretty great one liners that actually make me laugh…and not laugh to be polite.  Anna and Leah can do a top knot bun better than I can.  They stay home alone while I go to Wal-Mart.  They are legit fun to be around. 

A few days ago, I dropped Raychel off at the middle school to fulfill her leadership duties by helping show the 6^th graders (and their parents around the school).  She is just beautiful.  I see boys her age starting to check her out.  What makes Raychel even cuter is that she has NO idea how beautiful she really is.  This weekend I was filling out paperwork for Anna and Leah to be in their 12^th youth theater play.  Those girls can belt out show tunes like no one’s business.  This is our family’s LAST year of Mark Twain Elementary.  The twins rode their bikes with a friend to the park the other night…and I wasn’t even worried or nervous.  They all came home and showed me pictures they had taken of each other.  Top notch tween quality…silly selfies, holding hands with each other with their backs to the camera…stuff like that.  Toys are becoming scarce in this house.  Baskets and bins that used to hold Barbies and My Little Ponies now hold countless bottles of Bath and Body Works lotion, body sprays and EOS lip balm. 

It dawned on me that I am just opening up a new chapter of “good old days”.  I can’t long for days gone by.  They were great and happy and fulfilling as I lived them.  Now it’s time to make the most of these chapters…my time having them all to myself is running short.  That’s the great thing about life: there is joy to be had in all phases.  I pray I’ll be able to stick around for all of it.         

Bear Lake

I admire and love James' family for consistently having a family reunion every other year.  If it weren't for these reunions, I wouldn't know any of his siblings very well.  It's fun to see each other, and it's so nice to pick up right where you left off.  Since I have my phone and Instagram, my blog posts aren't nearly as frequent as they used to be.  Here are a few photos of the little town of Paris, Idaho where we stayed.  I just loved how the whole community felt like you were walking into the past.  

 I loved all these angles and all these edits.  James was like, "Did you ask if you could buy that green stamps sign?"  haha!  He totally gets me!

 Paris Tabernacle 

 The Paris Tabernacle

 Bear Lake was cool because it was literally farms and the lake was right there...James slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road so I could get these pictures.  I needed the tractor, the hay bales and the water.

Laughter IS the Best Medicine!

Just one of my favorites of James

Amy and James always has a knack for making me feel better.  It is truly their gift.  Since my lupus diagnoses, I have had to visit more doctors than I care to.  You’d think since I have my “label” it’d be cut and dry, in and out.  Nope.  Every doctor (at every appt) feels it is their duty to remind me I’m fat.  Like, I’m not immobile fat…just a 37 year old who’s had a couple-a-kids.  My thighs touch, I’ve got some back fat, and a “twin skin” belly.  Whatever.  I can still work 15 hours a day, go on hikes, and haul a 100 pounds of crap to the beach.  In all honesty, I could stand to lose 40 pounds.  However with that said, 40 pounds is NOT going to improve my life so drastically that my lupus will just magically disappear.  “Well, Mrs. Roylance, since you’ve quit eating cookies, you will never have to deal with lupus again.  Great job buckling down and asserting some self control.”  YOU DON’T KNOW ME!  Like, do doctors just assume every mildly overweight person is lazy?  That we drink wine and eat rich cheeses?  (Side note: If I stopped those behaviors, my migraines would disappear too…again, you don’t know me).  We just sit around and wallow in self pity?  We refuse to move because it might make our knees hurt?  Until you have actually felt the pains of my disease, you don’t get an opinion.  BTW drinking green sh** smoothies ain’t  gonna cure me either, so I’m gonna stop you before that even rolls off your tongue. 

I have struggled with my self image my entire life.  I don’t like to talk about it.  When I open up and talk about my troubled history with food, I always think the other person is going “WOW!  You sure beat that disease…you OWNED that anoexia…etc” all said sarcastically of course…because I’m a fatty now.  It has taken me a lot of years and A LOT discipline to learn how to manage “it”.  I feel as though it’s an addiction.  It’s as dangerous and detrimental as any drug addiction.  I think about it every day.  It ruins my relationships.  I could go on, but I’m not ready to be that raw.  Needless to say, being told I’m fat is my Achilles heel.  Again…these doctors…YOU DON’T KNOW ME.       

This blog was supposed to be funny.  So let’s get to the funny part already!  Amy works in the building of my doctor, so I always go visit her when my appointments are over.  She walked me down to my car today, and she understands how literally painful it is for me to be told to drop weight.  (Like I can laugh about it and roll my eyes, but it’s pretty soul crushing to me).  This silver, early 1990’s style Buick come bouncing down the parking lot.  The front seat holds a wrinkled, silver haired, fragile woman.  She’s got the oxygen flowing and a cigarette dangling from her lips.  She’s struggling to light it because the shocks in the Buick gave out at least 5 years ago.  Amy says, “What do you bet she just got talked to about smoking?  She’s like ‘Go to hell, you bastard, Imma 127 years old.  I’m gonna smoke my damn cigarettes.’  That’s what you need to say, ‘I’m gonna eat some cookies, ya bastard.’”  I was in tears...laughing.  Then I texted James (When I decide to expose my secrets, I’ll talk a lot about my good husband.  He is the reason I am so happy today).  He g-chats me and asks how the doctor was.  I tell him.  He responds, "Listen I go on 3 mile walks at least 5 times a week.  I don't over eat.  What the hell else do you want from me???  I have that same problem too with my blood pressure being slightly elevated.  Yeah I know it's kinda high but can we get to the matter at hand please?  I came here to talk to you about my back.  Not my spare tire, but thank you for wasting 15 minutes of time I didn't have!"  Again...cracking up!  I am so thankful for humor and those in my life that can always seem to bring a smile to my face!

End of an Era

Seven years ago, Jill came up to my mom at school and said, "I want someone just like your daughter to watch my baby.  Does she have any friends that might be able to do it?"  Upon hearing this, I said, "Oh my gosh!  Tell her I'd be honored!"  And that's how it all began...

Colin starts full time kindergarten next year, and I'll be an "empty nester".  I am so thankful to Jill and Kevin for sharing these boys with me.  I don't think my girls remember a time when Colin and Grady weren't a part of the family.  They'll always be our little brothers!  Believe it or not, this probably isn't even half of the pictures I've taken over the years.  I've gotten a little emotional looking through the albums.  If you really want to get a good case of the feels, cue up Forrest Gump-Feather Theme.  (My life is a soundtrack.)

Grady loves the camera about as much as James...

Of course, I had to have a little cruel fun along the way. HeHeHe.

 Along came Colin...

 Colin always loved cuddling with his Roo...no matter how sick she was.

 I love everything about this!

Morning sunshine 

 After my blood clot debacle, I spent a lot of days just like this with my Colin.

 "Building a fire"

 Yup...this is pretty accurate.

 Quality childcare right there...

"Bend over and cough" Seems legit.

 One of my favorite stories...they were sitting here playing the rhyming game.  Someone says a word, and you think of a word that rhymes with it.  Anna says, "corn" and without missing a beat Colin yells, "PORN!"  I had to leave the room and cry-laugh.  Anna was all, "That's not even a word."  Let's keep it innocent like that forever!

 Just a couple of dudes chillin'