Giving thanks, but not Thanksgiving

As this is the month of Thanksgiving, I've been pondering the giving of thanks (deep, right?). I'm terrible about sending thank you notes. I always have been, and I probably always will be. In fact, I think I've got some still laying around from when I got married 5 years ago.

Anyway, the point:
I've decided to blog a giant thank you note to everyone that has helped me out in the past little while. So, here goes.

Thank you for listening.
Thank you for being a friend.
Thank you for the meals.
Thank you for not judging me.
Thank you for making me smile.
Thank you for watching my boys so I could have some time away.
Thank you for the words of encouragement.
Thank you for crying with me.
Thank you for the hugs.
Thank you for the advice.
Thank you for the naps.
Thank you for smiling at me.
Thank you for telling me it'll get better.
Thank you for reminding me to enjoy today.
Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for enduring my never-ending stream of pictures and stories.
Thank you for letting me talk about nothing but my children.
Thank you for not staring when we're all collectively losing it in the grocery store.
Thank you for holding my hand on hard days.
Thank you for telling me how beautiful my kids are.
Thank you for telling me how beautiful I am.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, and thank you again. Words cannot express my gratitude at being blessed by the wonderful people in my life.

My body IS a wonderland

Ok, all of my delightful readers. It's time to chat. But first, I want to show you a few things:

This is all what is considered "thinspiration." The "nothing tastes" quote is actually available embroidered on pillows, printed on t-shirts, and even as a HUGE vinyl decal to put on the front of your fridge.

I consider it a part of an even bigger, over all, problem. Something known as "body shaming."

"Body shaming is defined as inappropriate negative statements and attitudes toward another person's weight or size. It can also reach into the discrimination against individuals who may be overweight. In particular, there are negative attitudes in the media and elsewhere about celebrities who are "too fat" or who have not gotten rid of "baby weight" in an appropriate amount of time. A backlash against body shaming has resulted in the coining of the term itself and attempts to bring a more positive attitude toward diverse body sizes and styles." (From this site) 

Now let me show you one more thing:

Is it any wonder that we have unreal expectations of beauty? 

This morning I read a post from a female body builder. She mentioned that there are people who have attacked her for her shape, size, and choice to be a body builder. I looked through a few of her Facebook photos and for every positive comment there was a negative one to match. This woman was beautiful, and yet she was getting called ugly over and over again. 

Why? Why is our culture so obsessed with how we, and other people look?  Was this woman hurting anyone with the way she looks? 

We all do it, and I'm no exception. I'll look at people in the grocery store and think, "Really? That was her best choice for what to wear today? She does know that shirt is meant for someone half her size, right?" But it's wrong, and it's mean, and it doesn't help anyone.And yet, how can we expect to accept anyone else for the way they look when we can't even accept ourselves.

 I'm a big girl, anyone who looks at me can see that right away. I don't consider myself fat or ugly, but according to society's standards of acceptable beauty, I am both of those things. I fall into the obese range on the BMI scale (don't even get me started on that can of worms!). My nose is too long. I have carried and birthed two babies, both over 9 pounds, so I have some serious loose skin and stretch marks. I have enormous feet. My hips are wider than my ribcage. I most definitely don't have a thigh gap, visible hip bones, a flat stomach, or toned arms. And all of that is okay!  I have a beautiful spirit and the body that contains it reflects that. This body is mine. No, it isn't perfect, but it is beautiful.    

We are our own worst critics.

So, today, I am sending out a plea to women everywhere. Stop it!  Stop the shame, the hate, and the anger. Love your body, because it is yours!  Take care of it to be healthy, not because you are ashamed of how you look. Look another woman in the eyes and tell her how beautiful she is (and mean it!). And ladies, when someone tells you how beautiful you are, just say thank you. Don't brush off the compliment. Don't immediately put yourself down. Because, you want to know a secret? You are beautiful!  Tall, short, thin, fat, muscular, blonde, brunette, freckled, disproportionate, it doesn't matter. Join the "Love Your Body" revolution. 

The one where I might insult people...

Ok, deep breaths.  You can do this, Annabelle, you can do this. I've been mulling this idea over, chewing on it, trying to decide if I'm brave enough to actually write this post. I can't stop myself. I so strongly feel the need to speak up on a subject that has been niggling at me for awhile now.

Kids, friends, lovely readers, it's time to talk 50 Shades of Grey. 

Now, I will state right up front that I have not read the books, nor do I ever intend to read the books. I'm basing this purely on what I have read about them, heard about them from others, and reactions I've seen across America lately. I, however, can't in good conscience keep my mouth shut on this one. 

I fully admit that I have read my fair share of trashy romance novels. I'll even go so far as to say that there was a time in my life that I was addicted to them. I will also fully admit that they gave me false ideas of what love, sex, and intimacy are like.  They did not prepare me for real relationships, and in fact, probably hindered me. It took me quite a long time to realign my reality with my imagined perception.

Anyway, back to my point.  50 Shades goes above and beyond the typical "romance" category.  Here is the synopsis from GoodReads:

"When literature student Anastasia Steele is drafted to interview the successful young entrepreneur Christian Grey for her campus magazine, she finds him attractive, enigmatic and intimidating. Convinced their meeting went badly, she tries to put Grey out of her mind - until he happens to turn up at the out-of-town hardware store where she works part-time.

The unworldly, innocent Ana is shocked to realize she wants this man, and when he warns her to keep her distance it only makes her more desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana’s quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her - but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey's singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success – his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving adoptive family – Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a passionate, physical and daring affair, Ana learns more about her own dark desires, as well as the Christian Grey hidden away from public scrutiny.

Can their relationship transcend physical passion? Will Ana find it in herself to submit to the self-indulgent Master? And if she does, will she still love what she finds?

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever."

First, a little background on the book: it was written as a fan-fic of Twilight.  That's right, the characters of Ana and Christian are based on Edward and Bella.  It was originally published as a web-only story, then split into 3 books and virally marketed. Ok, I can deal with that.  What I can't deal with is the subject matter.  I'm not an idiot, and I wasn't born yesterday.  I know that erotic literature exists in the world.  I know that there are BDSM relationships out there.  I know that some people love that kind of thing. 

I don't understand the mommy community's fascination, and obsession, with it.  Some statistics are showing that the book's biggest fan-base is married women over 30.  It has even been dubbed "mommy porn".  It is a scientifically proven fact that men are aroused and excited by visual images, pictures, etc. Women are excited and aroused by words, actions, and the like.  I balk at the idea of reading this book.  When people hear me say that, they often ask me why.  My response?  I would be devastated if my husband looked at porn, why would it be ok for me to stimulate myself in the same way.  Pornography is not acceptable in my house, no matter who is looking at it. I was appalled to see this sitting open-stocked on a table at Costco yesterday. That means it was in full reading view of anyone who decided to pick it up, whether that be our young teenage daughters, our impressionable children, or whoever.

So, why has the popularity of this series exploded?  Why are wives, mothers, and daughters everywhere accepting this smut into their lives, their minds, and their souls?  Why is there a double standard? Are we really so sexually deprived as women that we feel the need to turn to erotica?

There's a chance I will lose some of you over this post, but I just couldn't keep it in any longer.  If you have read the series, would you mind giving me your reasons as to why you liked it?  I, for one, am choosing to not follow the crowd.  I will stand firm in my conviction to keep my mind free from the degrading influence of pornography.  

I am not an engineer

There is a movement afoot from some students at that unmentionable school to the south.  There is a girl down there who is pushing to get rid of the title "Homemaker."  She finds it to be out-dated, offensive, and something to be ashamed of. I'm going to have to beg to differ.

Now lets talk for a moment about the term "housewife."  That term, I do think is outdated.  It brings to mind an image of a woman whose only job is to be a wife that stays at home.  It has an air of laziness and entitlement about it.

I personally feel that "homemaker" is a very apt description of what a wife and mother does on a daily basis. I may work full time, but I consider myself a homemaker.  Every day that I spend taking care of Greasemonkey and T-Bone, I am making a home.

The following is an excerpt from the Deseret News article that can be found here:
"Bullock said that the word 'homemaking' has a certain connotation that her generation didn’t relate to, so she decided to come up with a new concept of taking care of the home and created the term 'domaign'...
'Domaign' comes from the Czech word 'doma,' which means home, and 'ign' from the last three letters in design."

Essentially what she says is that she feels like a domaign "engineer" works to create the perfect life. That's where I run into issues with her whole campaign. I don't feel that my job as a homemaker is to engineer a perfect life.  I work to make an orderly, love-filled, happy home. 

Honestly, I have enough on my plate without trying to engineer a perfect life.  If I were to strive for perfection at home I would go crazy!  There is no such thing as a perfect life and anyone who thinks they can create it is going to spend their life being disappointed. 

I feel like the best thing I can do as a wife and mother is work at making a happy home. I am happy to call myself a homemaker. 

Like Nails on a Chalkboard...

#11- Describe 10 pet peeves you have.

You know, usually this list is endless for me, but for some reason I'm having a hard time coming up with some on the spot.  Alright, here we go:

1. People who chew with their mouth open.  This also goes for people who fill their mouth so full of food that they physically CAN'T close it to chew. Gross.

2. Anytime someone starts a sentence with, "I don't mean to be rude, but..." or "No offense..."  If you have to start your thought with that, don't say what you're about to say.  These statements do not give you carte blanche to say whatever you want to. More than likely it's going to hurt the recipient's feelings.

3. When complete strangers say to me, "Wow, you're really tall.  You must have played basketball in school."  No, actually, I was a complete and total nerd.

4. People who stare at me while I'm working out.  What, you've never seen an overweight girl sweatin' her booty off with bedhead and no makeup on?

5. General invasion of personal space.  I don't have much of a personal space bubble, since I invade other peoples' for a living.  But if I'm pregnant and you touch my belly without asking, you might lose a hand. (As a side note, you only need to ask once... that grants you endless belly-touching rights)

6. Internet arguing.  Really?  You think you're going to change Senor Troll's mind with your brilliant argument?  Not likely.

7. Disregard for the well-being of pets.  If you choose to be a dog/cat/fish/whatever owner, take care of them and train them right.  I don't want your cat napping on my back porch.  I don't want to hear your dog bark at 1 in the morning. I also don't want to watch you leave your pets outside 24/7 in the middle of the worst winter Utah has seen in years. Dogs need to be played with, people.

8. "You look tired."  Just say what you mean and tell me I look like crap.

9. People who phrase everything like a question.  Not only is it annoying, it's kind of confusing sometimes.

10. Wal Mart.  Yep, Wally World is one of my pet peeves.

On Motherhood

Having young children is not easy. Many days are just difficult.

~Elder Neil L. Andersen

With it being the Sharkbaby's first birthday so recently I've been doing a lot of reflecting on being a mother, but for some reason I have been having a terribly difficult time actually writing this post.

I started this phase of my life a little disillusioned. I was under the impression that motherhood would come naturally to me. I'd seen my friends transition effortlessly into the role of Mom. I'd watched people around me shower their children with love, affection, and kindness, all while setting up boundaries and discipline. I thought I could do it, too.

I spent my 40 weeks of pregnancy imagining how wonderful my life would be, how much joy this sweet little boy would bring to my life. I had hopes, dreams, and plans. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I had a list of "nevers." You know what I mean: I'll never get upset when my baby wakes up in the middle of the night, I'll never take my children home from church in the middle of the block, I'll never let my baby use a binky or a bottle after his first birthday. However, I'm not ashamed at all to admit that I've broken pretty much every "never" on my list.

Being a mom is hard. It is a never-ending; 24/7; day shift, night shift, swing shift job.

But being a mom is also so easy. When I hold that sweet little boy in my arms my heart fills with so much love I think I might burst. When he cuddles up on my lap at bedtime to read stories I feel more fulfilled than any other time in my life. When I see him smile and call out "Daaaa-deee" when his dad gets home from work, I experience a joy that I never knew existed. I think about him constantly. I pray without ceasing for him. I worry and I hope and I dream and I plan.

Motherhood has not come easily to me. I work hard at it every second of everyday. I cry, sometimes I yell, I lose patience, and I get so sick of singing "If you're happy and you know it" that I could puke.

But I wouldn't trade those sticky little hand prints on my fridge for the cleanest kitchen in the world. I wouldn't trade my stretch marks and loose skin for six-pack abs. I wouldn't trade the sleepless nights for a solid 8 hours.

I wouldn't trade this terrible, mixed up, crazy, emotional, wonderful, amazing, life-changing for anything.