My double-edged sword.
I have always been a fighter.
For what is right.
For those who can’t.
For the good in people.
Being a fighter is something that people tend to view as a positive quality.
As of late I have decided sometimes I can be too much of a fighter. For the past month hubs has been away training with the army. And the fighter in me has come out (not in a good way), mostly because of communication frustrations.
After the last one I was hit square between the eyes: I shouldn’t be fighting between us, but FOR us, which is where I started the month; however, somewhere in the middle there was a switch.
Now here we are at the end, and I regret the way situations were handled.
I have resolved to be more patient and understanding and a fighter for the two of us instead.
Fresher Is Better
Last night we used spinach from our Bountiful Basket to make our own pesto. We had gotten pesto from our local farmer’s market and LOVED it, so we modified their ingredients based on what we had in the fridge.
The end result…it is DELICIOUS, we didn’t have to buy ANYTHING, AND we MADE it! I am excited to use it (and it’s relatively healthy).
About a month ago we decided to purchase our first Bountiful Basket for several reasons. I felt like each trip I made to the grocery store I came home with the same fruits and vegetables. I compared several different produce sites similar to Bountiful Baskets and decided this was the way to go. We pick up produce every 2 weeks, we get a variety of produce, and it’s ONLY $15! There would be no way I would make it out of the grocery store with only $15 worth of produce.
One perk is that we typically eat mostly fruits, and by getting a basket of half fruits and half vegetables we are eating way more veggies and becoming more creative of how to incorporate them into our everyday eating. Last night from our basket we put tomatoes, green onions, and avocados on a whole wheat pizza crust along with pesto sauce from our local farmer’s market, chicken, and cheese. YUM-O!
We have the option of getting an organic basket or adding items to our basket such as fresh bread, honey, apples, and numerous other add-ons.
Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes;
I will wall her in so she cannot find her way.
She will chase after her loves but not catch them;
she will look for them but not find them.
How to talk to your daughter about her body, step one: don’t talk to your daughter about her body, except to teach her how it works.
Don’t say anything if she’s lost weight. Don’t say anything if she’s gained weight.
If you think your daughter’s body looks amazing, don’t say that. Here are some things you can say instead:
“You look so healthy!” is a great one.
Or how about, “you’re looking so strong.”
“I can see how happy you are – you’re glowing.”
Better yet, compliment her on something that has nothing to do with her body.
Don’t comment on other women’s bodies either. Nope. Not a single comment, not a nice one or a mean one.
Teach her about kindness towards others, but also kindness towards yourself.
Don’t you dare talk about how much you hate your body in front of your daughter, or talk about your new diet. In fact, don’t go on a diet in front of your daughter. Buy healthy food. Cook healthy meals. But don’t say “I’m not eating carbs right now.” Your daughter should never think that carbs are evil, because shame over what you eat only leads to shame about yourself.
Encourage your daughter to run because it makes her feel less stressed. Encourage your daughter to climb mountains because there is nowhere better to explore your spirituality than the peak of the universe. Encourage your daughter to surf, or rock climb, or mountain bike because it scares her and that’s a good thing sometimes.
Help your daughter love soccer or rowing or hockey because sports make her a better leader and a more confident woman. Explain that no matter how old you get, you’ll never stop needing good teamwork. Never make her play a sport she isn’t absolutely in love with.
Prove to your daughter that women don’t need men to move their furniture.
Teach your daughter how to cook kale.
Teach your daughter how to bake chocolate cake made with six sticks of butter.
Pass on your own mom’s recipe for Christmas morning coffee cake. Pass on your love of being outside.
Maybe you and your daughter both have thick thighs or wide ribcages. It’s easy to hate these non-size zero body parts. Don’t. Tell your daughter that with her legs she can run a marathon if she wants to, and her ribcage is nothing but a carrying case for strong lungs. She can scream and she can sing and she can lift up the world, if she wants.
Remind your daughter that the best thing she can do with her body is to use it to mobilize her beautiful soul.
At the end of the last summer hubs called and said he and his unit would be deploying at the end of this year.
(insert major breakdown but trying to have a brave face for everyone, including him)
Then the sequestration came and rumors of not going, and most around me were convinced he’d be staying, but I was not sold. Just as I began to settle into the thought of him being here, “the roster” comes out and with it brought empty spots that had to be filled. One of these spots could possibly be filled by hubs. With his boss pushing for him to go, I would not have been surprised if I would be shipping him out in a little less than 2 months. When I found out about this spot I asked if he would be taking it and he said…”no.” Simple, without giving it a second thought.
So ladies and gentlemen…the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. T will officially continue :)
While perusing old Facebook posts I came across one I wrote on December 7, 2010: “Godly, southern gentleman, loves children (in particular the special ones), sense of humor, bigger than me, recognizes it’s the little things, has patience for walls and quirks.” On December 21, 2010 I went on a concert adventure with my future husband. WOW how God’s plan works. Often I pray for whatever is going on in my life to be God’s will, for Him to guide it, and for whatever is suppose to happen to happen-for me to get out of the way and let God move. And I try really hard to do that. However, I rarely take the time to look back and see how God’s plan actually unfolded right before my eyes. This is just one (HUGE) example of how God moves when I pull myself out of the picture.
It’s crazy to me to think that God hears and sees those who do not have the resources to eat everyday, to lay their head down in a dry, safe place at night, who do not know how they will pay for the next month’s bills, and yet He hears my heart’s inner longings, knew them before I did, and had the perfect guy picked out for me years before I could see it.
My God who knows the number of hairs on my head, the number of stars in the sky, and the number of grains of sand in the oceans loves me enough to reveal His perfect timing.
My God is an awesome God.
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