It's all Pretend, or is it?

It's Sunday afternoon, Ryan's happily watching Baby Einstein while pulling all the diapers out the box, Brenton is still finishing up meetings for his calling at church, and I'm sitting here writing a blog post instead of making dinner. Yep, sounds like a typical Sunday afternoon. Don't worry, I'll get around to dinner. I always do, I'm just not feeling it right now.

A few updates on my fascinating and wonderful life. First, Ryan is now walking everywhere like a pro. He still can't pull himself up without the help from a nearby piece of furniture, but once he's standing he takes off like a bullet. I'm bursting with pride every time he does it.  Next, My second plateau of weight-loss has broken, and the pounds are slowly coming off again. I'm in this limbo stage where my current clothes are too big, but my pre-pregnancy ones are still too small. Still, I can't complain when I step on the scale in the morning and see the number has decreased from the week before.

During these last few weeks of Summer Brenton and I will be going to Arizona for a few days to see one of my dear friends get married. Not to mention my best friend is coming along with us, and we will also get to visit some of Brenton's family while down there. I also have two more Owlz games that I get to sing the National Anthem for, Brenton's birthday is this week, and Ryan's just a few more weeks after that. I have a feeling August is going to go by pretty quickly. I'm going to try and squeeze in a few more trips to Seven Peaks Waterpark, too.

Ok, updating's over. Now to get to the title of my post. Since I was a little girl I have always played pretend games. Even as a two-year-old, I'd pretend my fingers were people and have them go to the playground, pool, or even church, all in my head. I can remember when I was around six or seven, trying to sit quietly through the first hour of church in the chapel, pretending I was 12-inches tall and swinging from the chandeliers up above me.

As I got older, most of my pretend games were influenced by whatever movie I'd seen the weekend before. In third grade, I saw "Undercover Blues" for the first time, and for weeks after pretended both of my parents were secret agents and taught me everything they knew. I'd make up all kinds of secret spy gadgets and run around the backyard using them. With all my fun games and pretending, the one I imagined most often was of course, being a princess. I don't think I ever really let that one go, even when I was playing a different pretend game.

Now at this point, most people begin to grow up and stop playing pretend games. They helped spark the imagination as a kid, but afterwards there's no longer a need for them. Well I beg to differ. For those who know me well, or even those who don't and all you've read is my blogger profile, I'm a princess. Seriously. I never gave that pretend game up. In college, I'd pretend I was leaving my castle to go off and learn abroad. I would study hard because I'd pretend that an entire court was counting on me to do my best. As I dated, I knew that I was being sought after because I was a princess who would only settle for the best. I knew when I met Brenton that he was the prince for me. We had quite the fairy tale courtship and wedding. It was perfect.

Now at this point some of you may think I'm nuts, but let me tell you what a difference this pretend game has made in my life. The truth is it's not that far from reality. I am a noble daughter of God: a true princess. If I do all I can to live worthy of that title, I will be welcomed home in the royal courts on high. When I wake up in the morning, I think about how important it is that I live up to that title. I hold my head up a little higher, and try to remember all the things that set a princess apart. It improves my self-esteem, my attitude, and my actions. It also brings out my feminine side, which I've always loved. It's easier to be charming and graceful when you're pretending to be a princess getting all dressed up to welcome her prince charming home.

So if you're having a tough day and can't seem to get into the right mood, try pretending to be a princess. Think of everything you would have to do to live up to that title, and don't forget all the fun and frills along the way. That's one of the best parts of being a princess. Try it, and suddenly you'll remember who you are, and all the potential you have. It's always worked for me!

Choosing to See

Looks like time ran away from me again, and it's been over a month since I've posted. I could write a long catch-up post, but quite honestly the thought seems exhausting and by the time I finished I'd have to update on everything else I missed while updating, which I really don't have the stamina for. So instead I'll just share some of my recent thoughts.

A few days ago I was online looking at dresses and shirts. What started out as being a quick search for a top turned into over an hour of mindless browsing at clothes I knew I couldn't fit into anymore. You see, I'm still struggling daily with the way I look. Every morning I can't help but notice my glaring postpartum imperfections. I try so hard to tell myself it doesn't matter, but somehow I can't shake off the negativity, just like I can't shake off the pounds. I am now realizing how much society really does push the tiny hour-glass physique. I never noticed it much before because I had a great figure, and could pull off virtually any style I wanted. It's definitely a new thing to have a very small fashion pool of looks I can pull off, and that hurts. I'm well aware that I let it eat at me way more than I should. It is an immensely difficult mental battle.

So, back to looking at clothes online. The whole time I was doing this, Ryan was pulling my leg, trying to show me toys and fussing. Now that he's 10 months old, I don't even realize that I can tune him out so easily. His fussing fades into the background the same way the AC does. As I perused different websites looking for something to make me look skinnier, I was unconsciously ignoring my son. Not the most ideal maternal quality. I'm not sure what made me snap out of it, but for whatever reason I logged off the computer and turned to my baby boy. He gave me the biggest smile and laughed excitedly, because he knew he'd finally succeeded in gaining my attention.

As I picked him up and held him close, I realized how foolish I'd been for the past half hour. By choosing to remain depressed by the loss of my flattering figure, I am was in a sense choosing my looks over my son. Humbled, I immediately changed my perspective. Ryan is the greatest accomplishment of my entire life. There is nothing in the world I've had to give more for, but there has also been nothing as rewarding. He is so amazing. Watching him walk for the first time yesterday made me prouder than I've ever been. Am I really going to waste time I could be spending with him worrying about my body image? Can I truly be that superficial?

I'd like to say that this one experience has cured me of my insecurities with my figure, but I know better. That being said, the point of this post was not to receive pity or try fishing for compliments, but merely a confession that I'm not perfect. The Lord knows that, but He also knows my potential to do good and become better. That is why he has given me such an amazing child to raise, because Ryan has taught me far more than I'll ever teach him. I am discovering more and more each day how my Heavenly Father sends me personal revelation through my interactions with my son. My requirement is choosing to see the love and lesson behind the experience.

It may be that I will live with this extra weight for the rest of my life, or it may be that it will be gone eventually. Either way I will need to constantly battle the natural instinct to see the worst in myself, and instead show more gratitude for my blessings by serving others. That's my new recipe for positive self-image, and by working at it everyday I know it will begin to change the way I see myself no matter what the scale or tape measure reads. The choice to see always remains with me.