Freedom

**Alternate Title: "I can't believe I'm putting the word 'hemorrhoids' on the internet."

A member of my Plexus team is working on a testimony project, and she asked that we post a selfie and include what Plexus products and a healthier lifestyle have given us freedom from. I saw this as a good opportunity to share my Plexus story with the world. Here goes!

About 14 months ago, I began seeing posts on social media about Plexus Slim, which seemed to be comparable to Slim Fast and other "get skinny quick" products. I was spending my days grumpy and fatigued from having 2 under 2, so I ignored these posts, which I was sure were designed to mock me and my post-partum body.

Then I started to see posts about Plexus from people I trusted, people who I knew took good care of their bodies, people who didn't even have problems maintaining a healthy weight. I knew it had to be something more, so I started listening.

Some of these people struggled with eczema and skin issues (me too), some dealt with depression and anxiety (*raises hand*), and others had suffered from digestive issues (I thought this was normal...). I was really intrigued now.

I looked into the products and learned that they were natural, dye-free, sugar-free, and plant-based, all things that are important to me. They are supplements, just like you would find in a health store or the vitamin aisle at Kroger, but they are designed in a way that helps each ingredient do its job well.

In January of 2015, MisterKidd and I embarked on a grain-free, semi-paleo journey. We stuck with that for several months and put Plexus on the back burner because **our baby weight was falling off. We started to plateau in our results around May, which was when we decided to take the leap and try Plexus. We were looking forward to the results of taking Plexus and eating a grain-free, sugar-free diet. Would be super humans, able to leap tall toddlers in a single bound???

Not so much. After six weeks, we admitted that we did have increased energy throughout the day without coffee, and we were sleeping through the night for the first time in 3 years, but the price was just too much strain on our budget, and we felt like we could do just as well on our own. So we invoked the 60 day money back guarantee, and kept moving.

After we stopped taking Plexus, we fell off the paleo band wagon. It was a slow fall, so it took months to notice that we weren't feeling great anymore (we weren't even feeling good) and the weight crept back a pound at a time.

In January, when the world is full of hopes and possibilities for the new year, we reevaluated and decided to be stricter with our grain-free diet. And it was hard to start it back up again. I'm not even sure why. Then, I went through a slump, which turned into a trench, and then I finally hit the rock bottom of anxiety. I wasn't eating much, I had a hard time getting out of bed, and I developed ulcerative colitis. This was not a good place to be with two littles to care for every day. I prayed and read and talked with my husband and shared my burden with the ladies in my church, and God restored my soul and helped me to keep going.

One thing MisterKidd and I had decided during that rebuilding period was that I should give Plexus another shot. During those months after trying it, I continued to read the stories and celebrate the successes of people who had tried it. I was learning that poor gut health is linked to endless physical and mental issues, and that it is almost impossible to heal your gut through diet alone. The first time I tried Plexus, I was looking to maintain my new slim figure and lose the last few pounds. This time, I needed help having the energy to get off the couch and be present with my children.

I began the Triplex combo on January 26th. That was 6 weeks ago today, and I'm amazed at the changes I'm feeling. Have I lost a ton of weight? No, maybe a couple pounds, if that. But a few other things have happened, things I didn't know could be corrected, things I thought I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

I replaced my morning coffee with Plexus Slim, and I have the energy I need to get through my day with my littles minus the daily afternoon crash and headache.

I have clear skin for the first time in seven years; my cystic acne has almost completely healed.

I have relief from the digestive issues I've suffered from my entire life, including, but not limited to, chronic hemorrhoids, constipation, and upset stomach from basically anything heavier than a salad. And sometimes even a salad.

I can't say that I've had complete relief from anxiety because there are so many factors that cause those slumps, but I will say that those bad days have been significantly fewer in the last six weeks. Is this due to better gut health? Maybe...

These things alone are enough to keep me taking Plexus and sharing my results, and I'm only six weeks in. I can't wait to see what sustained gut health, a whole food diet, and like, maybe exercising someday soon will do for my body. (I have commitment issues with that last one. Ha.)

Got questions? Ready to get started? I'll be here all week.

**Yes, we both had baby weight.

A Thrill of Hope

Preparing our house for Christmas has always been my favorite thing. When I was a little girl, I stood on chairs to hang lights around my room. I hung mini ornaments on a mini little tree while blasting Trans-Siberian Orchestra and The Carpenters. My mom and I always put up our family's tree the day after Thanksgiving and not a minute later.

Now that I'm a mom, I've been more intentional with how we celebrate and decorate each holiday, especially Christmas. I want my girls to understand that each holiday is set aside to focus on a different aspect of the Gospel. We have hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies and give gifts like most families this time of year. The world tells us that this is a season of giving, family, tradition, and fun. I agree; it is all of those things...and so much more.

Our family chooses to focus on Advent during December each year. The Gospel of Jesus is good and relevant every second of every day, but this is the special time each year that the church puts extra thought into the time when God himself came into the world in the most vulnerable way. It's the time when we consider a world before Jesus, before His teachings, before He earned the salvation of His people through His death.

Oh, how weary the world must have been, knowing that they could do nothing to be reconciled back to God. There was no way out of the brokenness and mess of a life apart from God. There was no escape from the burden of the Law, no way to please God.

But God, being so rich in mercy, sent hope into the world. What a thrill it must have been for that handful of people who knew His identity and the role He was going to play in healing the world.

It wasn't a grand entrace, with fireworks and parades and headlines.

It was quiet, as quiet as a sigh for those who knew.

Finally, He's here. This long-expected Jesus. The one who will make peace between God and His creation.

This Christmas season, remind yourself and those around you of the Gospel with the songs you sing, the decorations you hang, the gifts you give, and the words you say.

I pray that you who are weary this Christmas will feel the thrill of hope that only Jesus can bring.

Read All the Books

Last week, I got some much needed #momtime. Two full hours out of the house in broad daylight with no agenda. Heavenly. A necessary coping mechanism for this introverted mama.

And where does a frugal introverted mama go during mom time on the cusp of the holiday shopping/eating season?

The library.

I can't believe there's a place in every city that one can go to choose any books, audiobooks, CDs, and DVDs available and take them home as long as one promises to bring them back. That's all it takes! Your word! What a wonderful world.

Before I had children, I was an avid reader. Now that my girls are a little bigger and are sleeping through the night, I'm getting so much more reading done than I did during that extended newborn/two-under-two season. Living three blocks from the library makes it almost mandatory to consume books.

During this visit to Free Book Mecca, I chose a few magazines and several books from my Goodreads "to-read" shelf (make an account and be my friend, please) and settled into a cozy nook in the back. Two hours later, I was caught up on all of the Relevant news from the month, equipped with Practical Homeschooling ideas and techniques, and loaded down with this haul.

Here are my thoughts on what I brought home:

Wild by Cheryl Strayed
This one has been floating around for a bit, so I thought I'd give it a try. I was really interested in the concept of a woman (anyone, really) traveling over 1,000 miles alone on foot. I couldn't imagine how that would feel and what would drive someone to think that was a good idea. As she described her childhood, her relationship with her mother, and her downward spiral after her mother's death, I started to take on her melancholy mood myself, and that did nothing for my mothering abilities. I finally put the book down for good after a rendezvous with her heroine-addicted ex-boyfriend and nonchalant abortion. I might pick this one up again someday, but it's definitely not the right time in my life to read it.

Dear Mr. Knightley by Katherine Reay
Finally, I have found it. The elusive non-cheesy, intelligent Christian fiction book that doesn't have a single Amish/Prairie character (no offense, it's just not my bag). I read this one in about 9 hours, during which time I also cooked and ate dinner, taught a poetry class, and completed a full bedtime routine with my family. It made me want to read the classics and foster all the babies.

The Good Neighbor Cookbook

This was one I skimmed. I love the concept of loving people through meals, so it made it into my library bag. There weren't any recipes that stood out to me, though, so I didn't spend much time with it. This would be great for someone wanting to hone their hospitality gift.

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain
Oh, what can I say about this heartbreaking story? Just that. It broke my heart. This historical fiction book was based on the true story of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife as he tried to make a name for himself in the literary world while living among the Lost Generation (the Fitzgeralds, Gertrude Stein, James Joyce, et al.) in 1920's Paris. It's opened up a whole new genre for me: fiction stories based on memoirs, journals, and autobiographies. Apparently, it's a big deal.

Have you read any of these? Leave your thoughts in the comments!

I'm so glad to have the freedom to read again! Here's a peek at my book load for this week.

School Time Update 9/5/15

I've been dreaming of a few rearrangements in our home.

Correction: I've been dreaming of commandeering MisterKidd's large office for homeschool and offering him the smaller extra bedroom for an office. My 34 inch pupil and I have been feeling cramped whilst doing our studies recently, and how much room does a man really need to read books and prepare sermons? Is he doing vibrant interpretive dances to Itsy Bitsy Spider daily?

No.

I've had his blessing to make this switch for a while, but paint has not been a priority at budget-making time in the past few months. But last weekend, I managed to squeeze out a little of my birthday money for a gallon of Bistro White. On Monday afternoon, I rolled the first strip of paint on the wall.

Then I woke up, and it was Friday.

I had painted, heaved furniture, moved hundreds of books unstairs and down, and made countless trips to Lowe's throughout the week. Most of the work was done during nap time, in the evenings after MisterKidd came home, and at night after everyone was in bed. For most of the week, I was a zombie covered in Bistro White and La Fonda Blue, pausing only to hug my Littles who called "Mama!" from beyond the gate at the top of the stairs.

**This is where I would have put a picture of Kip holding a piece of cardboard with "LaFawnduh" written on it. Google it and laugh with me.

This morning, I put the finishing touches on the room, snapped a few pictures, then begged Big Girl to come and do some school work (which isn't hard). She is mildly impressed with the new arrangement, which is all I can ask of a two year old. I, however, am over the moon with it all. It is dreamy, and I find myself sneaking down there to just sit at my desk and look around, arrange the trays on her tot school shelves, and text another picture to my mom.

So, without any further rambling, here is our just-moved-into, freshly painted school room.

And some amazing and sturdy trays I found at the Dollar General for $1.

If you'd like to know where I got something or how I use it, I'd love to share! Enjoy!

The Rink

The small town MisterKidd and I grew up in had one form of entertainment, one venue that brought the kids of the community together and kept them off the streets. You know, Main Street gets busy around 5.

The last remaining sentiment from the 80's was a mediocre skating rink near the edge of town. It was run by the same person who opened it when it was "all the rage" in the decades before, Mr. Carl.

Oh, how the butterflies would swarm as my mom and dad dropped me off at the door of the orange-and-yellow-striped building with $5 for entry, skates, and a coke. The excitement of seeing my friends away from school, the way my flare leg jeans draped over my roller skates, and the thrill of zooming across the black-lit floor as Britney Spears played overhead was almost too much for a 10 year old on a Friday night. The only things that could cap that feeling were winning a slap bracelet in "musical skates" and holding hands with that bushy haired boy during the couples skate.

Cloud Nine. That's the only way to describe the feeling of my sweaty hand in his, maneuvering around the rink to Savage Garden on one of the last skates of the night. This beautiful boy in the KISS t-shirt was sweeping me off my feet as we dodged and weaved. There were other couples, but we were alone on the floor as we rounded each corner, hoping the song would play forever.

But alas, Mr. Carl would break our euphoria over the loudspeaker with these words: "All Skate, Everybody Skate, All Skate." With this, those who hadn't been blessed with a deep and lasting middle school romance were allowed to join us. After a few more loops, the lights were turned on, the music was turned off. We handed in our skates and were ushered into the night.

The Swing

MisterKidd and I have been together for a long time, by the world's standard. Although we've been married for less than 5 years, our journey started long before that, long before most people even know.

In the year two thousand, a bushy haired boy who was at least six inches shorter than me began walking with me on the way back from Gifted and Talented in the afternoons. I'm sure he was attracted by my ice green eyeshadow and the 12 butterfly clips I used to keep my bob in a ponytail. Who could resist?

I won't pretend to remember what we talked about. Probably Power Rangers and AR books and the like. He was the cool kid and the class clown, and he was largely considered to be the most eligible bachelor in the 4th grade (yes, you can be all of those things in a class of 40 kids). I was quiet and bookish with plenty of friends, but none of the male variety. Any boy who wasn't Leonardo DiCaprio was lame, that is until I was flashed a crooked smile by him. I was smitten.

After several of these walks, this boy began spending quite a bit of time with me on the playground. He invented a swing technique on my behalf called "the underdog." He stood in the back of the swings, pushing my friend and me back and forth, higher and higher until we were high enough that he could give one of us a good shove, running through the push and underneath us as we soared. It was pure bliss.

It was during one of these recess rituals that I received the greatest compliment to date. After performing several underdogs, this boy loudly and boldly proclaimed that I was much lighter than my friend, therefore easier to push. These words were music; never had I heard such sweet talk from a member of the opposite gender.

With this slightly backward comment, he had stolen my heart. His chivalrous manner of escorting me from GT and his commitment to me on the playground was enough for me to dedicate all of 5th grade to his happiness.

The Blog-iversary

This time last year, my plate was full. Not just "a small helping of each dish" full, but "a third trip to the buffet" full. We had a 19 month old and a newborn, and we were settling into our house after a crazy home buying experience. My brain needed a drain, an outlet for all of those thoughts, so I opened a Blogger account.

I wrote about 5 posts before I finally got the courage to publish them. Letting friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers into the mind of an introvert causes said introvert to, well, invert a little. After proofing each draft a million few times, sharing them with MisterKidd, and then proofing them once more, I finally clicked "publish" and sent some pieces of my heart onto the 'net.

On September 1st, I started this blogging experience. It's been a pretty fun way to get some things off my chest, share some things I'm learning about life (like this and this), and basically type out all of the things I tell my mom everyday on her drive home from work.

I recently read "Black Heels to Tractor Wheels," the love story of my culinary hero, The Pioneer Woman, and her husband. As I read, I was reminded of when MisterKidd and I began dating almost a decade ago when I could not even drive yet. All of those butterflies and first moments and band t-shirts that smelled like baseball practice came back as I read her story, and I thought, "how nice that she can go back and read this anytime he does any number of unspeakable things that husbands often do."

After reading this book, I've been tossing around the idea of typing up some of our adventures from the last nine years together. I jotted down some possible ideas and ended up with 53 type worthy anecdotes, give or take 10 more that I may remember along the way. I thought maybe, just maybe, our kids would be interested in why they have life and breath and existence someday, and we may not be around to tell them when that time comes.

So, as a service to our children, and so I can recall the feeling of riding down the backroads in a white Ford Ranger next to a scrawny jock listening to Switchfoot, and in celebration of my Blog-iversary, I will begin to chronicle the story of falling in love (and then out of love, then in again) with my main squeeze.

I hope to share one story each week, maybe more or less, depending on how many lemons I'm making into lemonade at the time. So get ready for a year (or more) of mundane teenage happenings, huge mistakes, moments of pure bliss, and the beginning of a life together.

Thank you to everyone who's been following along for the last year. I'm honored that you let me into your mind, even if it's only to pass the time waiting for the microwave to beep.