tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63135974317908359872024-03-14T12:16:29.185-06:00Keep Moving Forward...opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths - Walt DisneyAlli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.comBlogger352125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-19538884196582838642013-05-30T14:04:00.004-06:002013-05-30T14:04:28.149-06:00Today I'm Thankful For......my kids. There really isn't any greater joy than watching your babies, babies of all ages, loving each other and playing together. It seriously cannot get any better than this.Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-43042860697615440122013-05-20T17:48:00.001-06:002013-05-20T17:48:16.098-06:00Because Weddings Mean More to Me Than My Personal PlaytimeThe faux leather tiny red mini-sectional was packed. 2 of my daughter's friends sat there with the soon to be mother-in-law (who is also my friend, Shannon) next to me, my cute husband, the ever supportive dad, parked on an ottoman that matched the couch just to the side of all of us. We all waited, surrounded by mirrors pointing in every angle. To the right and left of us and even creeping up behind us, we were engulfed in all shades of white taffeta, tulle, satin and lace.<div>
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"Now which one is this?" we'd call out, watching her little feet under the curtain. Bare and nervous, pulling on dress after dress. "It's the one I REALLY want" she'd say before walking out to walk the little runway laid out in front of us.</div>
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A little platform of carpet in front of us was her stage and one by one she'd model the dress she had picked out. We'd oooh and ahhh and I'd snap photos and tell her what I loved about each one. "Oh the sweetheart neckline of this one! It is so flattering!" or "Oh Kenzie, the tea length one in satin, it's got pockets! You LOVE pockets!"<br /><br />One by one she'd come out feeling like Cinderella before the ball, the fairy godmother in her changing room helping her to fit each dress to her body.<br /><br />Finally, she came out in The One.<br /><br />We knew it was the one by the look on her face the second she stepped out of the dressing room. For each of the other dresses, she'd look at us like "is it pretty? Is it ok?" but this one...she gave us a look that said "This one makes me feel like a bride..."<br /><br />She had previously sauntered slowly up to the platform, taking meek steps, walking up to the mirrors and turning to the right and left, looking slowly up and down as we all took pictures with our phones. With this dress, she DANCED out of that room. She leaped up on that platform, turned to the side, spun around and then turned to us and said "What do you think? Mom, look at this one!"<br /><br />We knew before she even said a word that this was the dress. She went into the store wanting a very specific thing. All lace, floor length, high waist. What we found for her was almost 100% the opposite. Minimal lace, tons of bling, a huge tea length tulle skirt with layers and layers of incredible femininity.<br /><br />If you know Kenzie, you'll know that she's always been kind of a tomboy. She's played hard with the boys outside her whole life. When I imagined her in a wedding dress, I did NOT imagine her in a cloud of girly-ness but what we saw that day is that she looks perfect in exactly that. She looked stunning. It was incredible.<br /><br />Today we went and bought the dress. The dress didn't look complete without a big embellished sequined sash and we had to get that, too. And while we were there, she tried on a veil and whaddya know...it needed a veil even though she didn't think she wanted one!<br /><br />I'll tell you what, guys. Weddings are no joke. They're expensive, they're personal, they're a big deal and there's one more thing about them that we've realized. They are something you do for your kids because you love them. We may not have tens of thousands of dollars to pay for this wedding but we're going to make it happen. We're working doubly hard, both of us taking extra jobs to make sure this happens but like she said today on the way home, she knew from the day she got engaged that we would make this happen for her.<br /><br />And that makes all of this worth every single stressful moment. My kids are worth everything we do for them. Including both of us working to pay for something like this. While other people in her family coolly live their lives as if the kids were their "buddies" who they can go to lunch with occasionally, we work our butts of to make sure these kids will have an amazing wedding. They only get married for the first time (and hopefully for the rest of their lives) once and we are making this the best wedding she could ever want. </div>
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It's only a couple months away and we can't wait to show you all of the details. More to come...</div>
Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-66210360812768399952013-05-02T08:59:00.000-06:002013-05-02T08:59:38.781-06:00On Self Loathing and Self LovingI always knew I was different, I mean, that my body was different than what I wanted it to be. I remember being a little girl on the beach in Corona del Mar, California and wearing a little shirt that exposed my tiny little brown midriff. I still have the picture.<br /><br />I recall thinking "am I always going to be fat?" even then. It makes me sad to think about that tiny little blonde baby feeling so sad about her body already. Where did this issue with body image come from? How did I think that I was fat back then???<br />
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<br />I am now pregnant with my 8th baby. My body is still strong enough to carry this miracle but I wake up every day and look in the mirror and the first thing I do is to glance at my body in disgust. It's something I need to rid my brain of. It's unhealthy.<br /><br />Thing is, when I'm alone with someone I love, I'm the most confident person alive. If I feel loved and beautiful, especially if the person has told me that they think of me that way, I'm like a superstar, ready to bare it all and give everything I have. It's a good thing and a bad thing.<br /><br />Good in the way that I'm confident and open and that I feel sexy and beautiful and that's not a bad thing, right?<br /><br />Bad in the way that I find myself crashing afterward because it's like...my brain says stuff like "that was so dumb. Why did you show your stomach to him?"<br />
<br />Body image.<br /><br />Self loathing.<br /><br />Self loving.<br />
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Confidence and the lack thereof afterward.<br /><br />Isn't this what most women go through? Tell me I'm not alone here...<br />
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<br />But for now, I really do feel pretty. I feel better now at age 40 than I ever have. Is that old age fooling me? Am I just more comfortable in my own skin?<br /><br />Today I feel pretty, tomorrow I'll avoid my own image in the mirror. Ah, the life of a woman...Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-70184243855875756542013-04-29T13:28:00.000-06:002013-04-29T15:05:54.013-06:00Long But You Guys, This Is Seriously So Groundbreaking For Me...Driving through the desert, it's endless expanse of pastels and light, I find myself in the deepest trenches of thought a person can find themselves in. The lack of thick greenery and buildings lends itself to the automatic self inquisition I'm so often prone to get trapped in. Thankfully, I know this desert like I know my own skin. Each turn and straight leg of the trip is like an old friend, a neighbor you wave to when you see them yet you don't really even take notice of them because of the familiarity of their face.<br />
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The desert. It can do two things to me, depending on which direction I'm traveling. If I'm not headed toward the Pacific Ocean, what it does to me is not good. It's unhealthy. It's toxic. It's like the long walk down death row toward an electric chair. Too graphic and dramatic? Um...have you met me?</div>
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Guys, if you don't already know me "Hi, I'm Allison. I'm super dramatic.". That sums it up pretty well, don't you think?</div>
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So here's the thing. Last night we were headed back from a little work vacation in Las Vegas and as we got on Interstate 15 headed toward Utah I felt it kick in. The dread and sadness I get so often when I am headed in that direction. I went silent in the car, Mike knew to turn up the tunes and to keep to himself because these are the times he's used to. He's seen this a million times and he knows how this goes.</div>
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We live in Utah. When we moved here we were inspired to do so and we always knew it would only be for a few years. It's now been 5. This was never supposed to happen. We moved here to be close to my sister and her family and to get a fresh start, yet we weren't prepared for what it would do to me.<br />
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Within 8 months of living here I was receiving treatments at the Huntsman Cancer Center in Salt Lake City for acute anemia. Guys I literally was almost dead. I couldn't process iron which is apparently required for life. The next thing to happen was my fibromyalgia. I'd had it for years and years but the second we got here it seemed to intensify by about a billion times.<br />
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So that's where we are. I'm in pain literally all the time, trying to mother all of these kids and be a wife and work and function and guess what...it's not working. It's just not.</div>
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So when I go to California I feel like a million bucks. I keep telling myself it's because I'm selfish and I just like living by the beach and to suck it up and that it's in my head. See, when I'm there, and I'm not kidding, I am...</div>
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<b>ONE HUNDRED PERCENT MEDICATION FREE</b></div>
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Zero. Nada. I have to take no medication at all. Here? Well let's just remind everyone that last April I had seizures for a month because of the medication I was put on by doctors trying to quell my symptoms here in Utah.</div>
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So here's the thing, I have been telling myself it's in my head. I keep saying "There is no way this is real, you're making this up, you just like the beach" because really, who doesn't like the beach? And if you don't, well I don't even think we should be friends. Truth.</div>
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So I got home last night at 2 am, woke up this morning and felt like I'd been hit by a freakin' mack truck. Like, SLAMMED. Couldn't walk to the bathroom. Climbing stairs felt like I was walking on hot pokers. It was ridiculous.<br />
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I called my doctor. He said for me to log onto their website and do a bit of research. See, Fibromyalgia is still something they're learning about daily. I've been diagnosed for 14 years now and what they knew then is different than what they know now.<br />
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So I get online and seriously, within seconds I find this:<br />
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<strong>What Weather Factors Affect Fibromyalgia Sufferers?</strong></div>
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There are five major weather factors that appear to affect fibromyalgia symptoms. These include:</div>
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<li style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px;"><strong>Temperature:</strong> Rapid changes in temperature can sometimes trigger a fibromyalgia flare or help to ease fibromyalgia pain. Cold weather tends to make fibromyalgia symptoms worse, while warmer weather tends to ease those troublesome symptoms.</li>
<li style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px;"><strong>Barometric Pressure:</strong> Barometric pressure is a measurement of the weight that is exerted by the air all around us. On beautiful sunny days, barometric pressure tends to be quite high, but during a storm or similar weather front, barometric pressure drops suddenly. Fibromyalgia sufferers often find that these changes in barometric pressure can trigger muscle aches and pains.</li>
<li style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px;"><strong>Humidity:</strong> Absolute humidity is a measurement of the amount of water vapor present in each unit of air. When absolute humidity is low, fibromyalgia sufferers often report headaches, stiffness, and flares in widespread pain.</li>
<li style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px;"><strong>Precipitation:</strong> Precipitation is the term used to refer to any type of water that falls to the ground from the sky, including rain, sleet, snow, or hail. Precipitation is often accompanied by a change in barometric pressure, and therefore may exacerbate your symptoms of pain and fatigue.</li>
<li style="margin: 0px; padding: 2px;"><strong>Wind:</strong> Whether it’s a light wind or a gale-force wind, wind generally causes a decrease in barometric pressure. This means that wind can trigger fatigue, headaches, and muscle aches in fibromyalgia sufferers.</li>
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<span style="text-align: start;">So back to the whole point of this. I live in the Utah desert. There are trees up here but it's DRY. It's cold. It's got almost zero humidity. It's windy. It's stormy.<br /><br />Basically, it's toxic for Fibromyalgia sufferers.<br /><br />Can I tell you that I'm typing through tears right now telling you that I am so relieved that I'm not crazy? Utah is toxic for me. I can't live here anymore you guys.<br /><br />I just can't.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Now if we could just find Mike an amazing job like the one he LOOOOOOOOOOVES here in Utah down in California, I would move today. Like, no joke pack up whatever clothes we needed, put the beds and couches in a truck and go. Dump everything else and just go.<br /><br />I need to not hurt you guys. We get one life...and I'm wasting mine by being in pain because I live where it hurts.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Help. I need help.</span></div>
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Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-63643831917118575082013-03-14T13:30:00.001-06:002013-03-14T13:30:48.882-06:00Swimming in Chocolate Piggy Cake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWgrfnk9NtemQ6_Z7qw1cl17mpTZ8Abyxbohi5gZLLqP6zxnNmPnSXfUhwl1w1ppCyMTVvbetImHkKq2M76JrTfbGznbiJbUu5lu2Y2tP8dxAyi8Np2bHLrj8MLXPEeay_lvtTPjpv-bW/s1600/swimming-pigs-chocolate-kit-kat-cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWgrfnk9NtemQ6_Z7qw1cl17mpTZ8Abyxbohi5gZLLqP6zxnNmPnSXfUhwl1w1ppCyMTVvbetImHkKq2M76JrTfbGznbiJbUu5lu2Y2tP8dxAyi8Np2bHLrj8MLXPEeay_lvtTPjpv-bW/s640/swimming-pigs-chocolate-kit-kat-cake.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've seen photos of this cake floating around Pinterest and Facebook for the last few weeks and finally, after some CRAZY searching I found a girl from the Netherlands who originally made this cake and someone translated her recipe!<br /><br />Here ya go. Because seriously though, this is so cute it makes me wanna die. I'm so making this for myself for my 40th birthday party. Alone. To eat in my bedroom with a big spoon. Did I mention alone? Ok fine, Mike can come.<br /><br />Swimming In Chocolate Piggy cake<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">You will need</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">A 20cm sponge cake</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">2x 200 g milk chocolate bars</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">250ml of cream</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Filling of choice for your pie. Layer of jam/ tinned cherries or such, and a layer of creme patisserie , cream or butter icing</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">3x five packet kitkats</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">1 packet of light pink marzipan. ( I'm thinking you'll have to use almond paste and food colouring for this or maybe get creative with some pink marshmallows? )</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Big knife</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Tooth pick or skewer</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Ribbon</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Flat plate or board to put your cake on</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Start by making your pigs. Do your own thing as there are no instructions for this.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Put your cream in a pan over low heat</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Keep stirring until it just starts to boil. In between break the chocolate bars in pieces.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">When the cream is almost boiling take it from the heat and gradually add chocolate. Keep stirring until you have a nice smooth mass and then leave to cool stirring every now and again.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Cut your sponge in half and put your fillings of choice in.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Put your cake , at this stage, on a lazy Susan or something else easy enough to rotate . The sides are going to be covered with your chocolate and you don't want your serving plate/board to get messy.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Break your kitkats in two and have them ready.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">If your chocolate sauce has cooled at thickened to a custard consistency you can start smearing it on the sides of your cake. Use a spatula or the back if a knife to do this. Once you've smeared it all around you can stick your kitkats on. This can be a bit tricky so place them on a slight angle against the cake. When you have gone right around quickly tie your ribbon around the cake. This will pull the kitkats up straight against your cake.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">When the left over chocolate sauce is only just fluid pour it over the top of the cake. MAKE SURE IT IS NOT TOO THIN WHEN YOU DO THIS OR IT WILL SEEP BETWEEN THE KITKATS.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Before it totally sets place your little piggies on the chocolate</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Place in the fridge to set.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">After an hour or so you can place the cake gently on your serving plate.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;">Eet smakelijk. Bon appetit . </span>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-76359282339495228042013-03-04T16:25:00.001-07:002013-03-04T16:25:16.432-07:00...and They Are MineWhen I get stressed out I have a tendency to worry myself sick about the smallest things to an unhealthy level. I've learned over the years through some very personal work I've done with myself along with the help of my sweet and patient husband, how to in a sense "talk myself down". Gratitude has played a huge part in this.<br /><br />I start by saying to myself in my head "can I change this?" And if the answer is "yes", then I ask myself "Can I change this RIGHT NOW?" Usually my most stress filled moments are in the tiny, quiet and dark hours of the morning. 2 am lately, this seems to be the most common time. If the answer is "no"...(which it ALWAYS is), I can emotionally feel myself come down from the ladder I'm standing on that feels like it's teetering on the edge of a rocky cliff.<br /><br />The next thing I do is to count my blessings. I've seen so many stories in the last few years that make me appreciate exactly what I have. Appreciate them in a HUGE way. Stories about families who have lost their homes in hurricanes, people who have suffered all kinds of accidents and fires, and stories like the one about <span style="color: blue;"><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/mitchellsjourney">sweet Mitchell who just passed away this last weekend</a>.</b></span> These are the things that make me grateful for my life, laundry and teenage bathroom messes and all.<br />
<br />I sometimes feel inadequate to mother all seven of my children. Can I love them all the same? Can I love them all enough? And the answer comes to me simply, quietly in whispers of their hugs, when I lay in bed with my teenage sons tangled in the blankets at my feet watching movies with us. Times when I feel like I'm not getting it all done for them. Like when my 3 year old, with the hints of last weekend's adventures with gumball machine tattoos still on her arms, quietly plays on my bed near my feet, happily imagining a charmed life with her little Disney castle and all of the princesses she's collected. I look around then and the first thing for me to do is to critique the situation, mostly with a shaded eye. "Why is Lola undressed? Why did she take her clothes off again to play? Why has she pulled her hair out of the ponytails I put in just this morning? What would the neighbors say if they saw this?"<br /><br />But then I force myself to do what I do so often, I take a picture. I snap a quick shot of whatever I'm worried about, and then I look at it on the screen with new eyes. What does this say about me? What does this say about the quality of my children's lives?<br /><br />And always, every single time, it says that my kids are happy, they are loved, they are warm, they are smart, they are well, they are fed, they are rested, they are loving, they feel loved, and they are <i>mine</i>...<br />
<br />Our journeys will always seem hard, that's the beauty of life. There will be struggle, that's how this journey is designed. But like Sigmund Freud said:<br /><br /><span style="text-align: center;">"One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful..."</span><br /><br /><br /><br />
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Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-36518089803902020272013-02-19T15:50:00.000-07:002013-02-19T15:56:02.709-07:00On Sleepy Sorts of Days...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harper to the far left, just his little legs under the white blanket. Oskar in the green blanket, Jonah on the top right and of course Little Lolabird at the bottom. I stood on my bed to take this photo from above. This is my sweet little life. This is love.</td></tr>
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I glanced around my sleepy bedroom just now. The clock is pointing out the fact that it's 3:30 in the afternoon and that means naptime, so here I sit on my bed surrounded by 4 of my 7 children. A Disney movie about some princess who gets stuck in the real world is on the tv and yet, my teenage son (who is home sick from school) is watching still even after the 3 others have fallen asleep. Even with the sounds of the movie in the background I can still hear the gentle snoring sounds of the 2 babies who will sleep just as long as they have some part of their body touching my own. <br />
<br />
This is the kind of life I live. These are the days I have when I randomly post silly things on Twitter or Facebook, or when I'm texting friends. I don't know what people imagine my life is like, but this is it. It's simple. It's spent enjoying the fact that my children are all growing up with each other in their daily lives. These kind little moments where at teenage boy, even in his fevered sleepy relaxation, can reach over to gently pat a baby as he sleeps. Not because the baby needs it, but because they both do.<br />
<br />
We fight daily for this life. We pray morning and night that they can stay together because this is good for them. This is what's best for these kids. Supporting them, cleaning and cooking for them, doing laundry until 2 am (like Mike did last night) these are the things we do and have done because we love these kids fiercely.<br />
<br />
My most favorite kinds of days aren't the ones where our house is spotless and everything's organized and immaculate. My most favorite kinds of days are the ones like we had yesterday. Where we sleep in, where we lay in our master bedroom, ALL OF US, and watch silly shows or YouTube videos. Or when we talk about the most awesome substitute teacher Jonah's ever had and how bizarre it was to hear this guy talk to the kids in his strange accent. Or when Kenzie comes home from school every single night to tell us the latest drama between the girls in the class that infuriates and also entertains her. She's loving this new "college" life. Yet, she still wants to live at home as long as she can. And Jonah, he says he only feels comfortable with the family he's had surrounding him for as long as he can remember, day in and day out.<br />
<br />
Casey's in a very social time in his life. He is involved heavily in musical theater and was just yesterday cast in The Music Man. He's nervous because his part has to sing alone, but we sit with him and remind him that wasn't he just one of the Von Trapp children last year in a community production? He's got friends around him who love him, and he's not afraid to share them with us. We love those kids like they're our own. Our family accepts everyone.<br />
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Harper's growing into such a little man. It kills me. He is the most sensitive child. If he feels like he's hurt your feelings, it crushes him into tiny little heart shaped pebbles and I have to gather them up and put him back together with the glue only a mother can provide.<br />
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The babies. They're babies. But they're kids, too. They're growing up and it's way too fast and it's way too cute and it's way too fun but I know from experience that I need to let them explore and become independent. They need to pick up their toys, and put their clothes in the hamper and against Lola's will, they need to have their hair washed and brushed more than once every couple of days.<br />
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These years will be gone before I know it. They're already half over. Soon, grandchildren will fill our home. We are blessed and we can't wait for the future.<br />
<br />
Now if I could just get these last 2 to potty train...<br />
<br />Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-91996744491815674572013-02-11T17:54:00.000-07:002013-02-11T18:01:36.371-07:00The Love You Get Is Equal To The Love You GiveA lot of attention has been called to the way Michael and I parent our children lately. One in particular has questioned our parenting skills but merely for selfish reasons, and while it seems absurd to give the comments merit, it does have a tendency to cause much self reflection.<br />
<br />
Michael and I were raised both very differently and very similarly. Both of our homes were 2 parent homes, both filled with opportunity, with encouragement and support. Both of our childhood homes were safe and comfortable, and we were both raised with the understanding that education was of the utmost importance.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to discuss the ways in which our homes were different, as they are both important yet not so important to what I'm going to write about today. Today, I'm going to express a few things that have been on my mind lately.<br />
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When I was growing up, we were always expected to take care of our own basic needs. Yes, we were fed dinner, and we had a loving parent or two at all times at home. Yes we were supported and taken care of but for the most part, we were taught at a very early age to clean up after ourselves (although I didn't really do as much as my sister Eliza did. I'm a mess to the core, but that's also something I've learned over the years is extremely normal with my personality) to take care of the younger children when our parents were busy, to shower and bathe ourselves and to do basic chores around the house. I always enjoyed cooking, so it was my job very early on (at my own request) to make simple dishes. Spaghetti and the likes were simplest and I reveled in my duties as a family chef. I can recall once making a simple bundt cake pan full of raspberry jello, carefully measuring the hot water, adding the cold and stirring seemed so important. At dinner my dad took his first bite and closed his eyes and said something like "mmmmmm, oh Alli, this is the best! You're such a good cook!" I can still picture where I sat at our little round table tucked into the breakfast nook in our kitchen. It meant so much to me to hear him compliment me on a skill that was so important to me.<br />
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As each of us grew, there were 4 of us, we naturally fell into our habits and hobbies and they did their best to offer us opportunities to better them. We took piano and violin, cello and dance. Sports and whatever else we asked for were offered and when we tired of them, they let us drop them for whatever we felt we wanted to try. Sure I had friends who started soccer at age 3 and kept playing until late into their adult lives, but we wanted to try many things, at least I did, and we were allowed to try them with the basic understanding that we had to at least give it a chance before we decided if we wanted to quit or not.<br />
<br />
I dabbled in so many things. I loved writing (still do) and they purchased padded white embellished journals for me to write my stories in. (I still have the one I'm describing, and my kids still to this day laugh til they cry at my angsty 11 year old drama filled entries) When I took an interest in drama, I was allowed to participate at school, often getting parts in them or being offered positions in directing One Act Plays even up into high school. I give much credit to my parents for the fact that I'm one of those people who will see something I want to try, and without fear, I jump head first into it until I've either perfected it or gained enough knowledge out of it as to where I feel like it's a skill I can call my own.<br />
<br />
Mike was raised the exact same way. He can tell you stories of playing the clarinet, of taking karate classes, running track and even playing football for years and years all the way through college. He took many classes in photography in college, studied art at an amazing liberal arts college, wrestled and enjoyed the sense of accomplishment one can gain from trying something, doing it and then calling it a part of who they are.<br />
<br />
My children are no different. Each one is so unique. Even though all 7 of them look like they're cut from the same cloth (even the ones who don't share a biological father) they are all so absolutely and stunningly different.<br />
<br />
When one expresses to us that he doesn't have the "urgency" or "desire" to continue with a certain sport, we ask them if they feel like they've really given it a chance, and if they can honestly say they have, we let them stop playing that sport. As nature directs, they smoothly transition into whatever else they want to try. This is how we were raised, to explore, to "try", to CHOOSE.<br />
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Giving your children a choice in their lives, in certain and most capacities, teaches them how to be good husbands, wives, people. You don't walk out of a home where your mother did everything for you and expect to get married and that the marriage will be successful. You walk into that marriage expecting that everything will be done for you, for your children. You walk into life blaming everyone else for the bad things in your life because you've never had to be accountable. You are an adult who criticizes everyone and everything in your life because of a sick sense of entitlement. This creates a dangerous dynamic.<br />
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Men and women who have not been taught to be responsible for themselves (and I don't mean paying your own bills, that's just common sense, people) seem to also be the people who are really good at getting people to love them, but not staying in love with them. They grow up thinking that they should be charming, to be the under dog, to be the one who needs support from lies they tell people around them. These people are the most dangerous type of people I have ever encountered. They hurt people and turn around and say "well you deserved it because you weren't doing this and this and this for me" or "you are wrong because, well, I'm always right. My mommy told me so because she never even allowed me to be woken up in the morning for school with an alarm clock". This is sick and neglectful. This is disgusting to me.<br />
<br />
Our children do not need to be coddled. The more they have people coddle them, the more dependent they become on others. Not that depending on your spouse is wrong, depending on someone because you've decided together that each will provide an equal part of a life you've created, this is the exception. Also, there is a difference between coddling and nurturing. Nurturing, this is imperative. Coddling, not so much. I think of it as a form of abuse, if I'm going to be honest here.<br />
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Children who are taught like ours are, to wake themselves for school, to do their own laundry (come on people, you're old enough to shoot nazi zombies on tv, you can surely put your whites in the washer, add a scoop of soap and push "start") and to pick up after themselves. I've been judged harshly because I don't do everything for my children. One of my older adult children was told that "It's your mom's job to make sure your house is spotless" and while I agree, it is my job to coordinate things in the home, because Michael and I have together decided on this, the kids are allowed to make that choice. If they don't do it, they get to live in a bedroom that has clothes and books on the floor and that weekend when they ask to go to the movies or to a friends house, I say no. Not because I'm mean, but because I am TEACHING THEM SOMETHING. You make a choice, you're responsible for that choice, you live with the consequence, whether it be good or bad.<br />
<br />
My kids are smart people. Most kids are smart people. The most successful people I've known in my life are those people who worked hard on their own to become who they are. Likewise, the least successful people (not money, but in life) are the ones who were taught that everyone in the world is at their disposal. These people are the same ones who made commitments and then broke them. Who came home from missions. Who are divorced multiple times. Who can't seem to understand why people aren't just falling at their feet when push comes to shove.<br />
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I'm raising my people to be free with love, to give generously of their time to others. I don't look at the family room that hasn't been mopped in 3 days and think "oh I'd better get on that or I'm a bad mother!" I look at it and say "I asked so-and-so to do that 3 days ago. It's not done. Now that birthday party this weekend isn't going to be attended."<br />
<br />
Judge us how you will. But before you do, I ask only one thing. Look at who we are. Look at who these kids are. Could they have become the well mannered, loving, kind and generous people they are without some guidance from loving parents? If you can still say no, then I argue that you may not have it in your heart to accept anything that doesn't give you recognition in some form.<br />
<br />
It isn't about you here, it's about the kids. It's about who has been there day in and day out, who teaches them to be incredible adults. When all of my kids have successful lives and marriages, we will give ourselves a pat on the back but only because we have guided them (not forced them) to become the good people that everyone is born with the capacity to be.<br />
<br />
We will continue to teach them how to love. How to clean up after themselves. How to say they're sorry and love freely. We will continue to teach them how to be good people, how to pick up after themselves, how to do their own laundry, how to make themselves food because when they're all adults, they won't be the ones who have been divorced several times who still expect their mother to buy them cars. They'll be the ones taking us to lunch and bringing their kids over to see Grandma and Grandpa Easley because they'll know. They see it now. They'll see it then. And I love that this is how the universe works. In the end, you get back the love that you give. And that's all that should really matter.Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-80221477857603351882013-02-04T16:05:00.000-07:002013-02-04T16:25:21.554-07:00Actions Speak Louder Than Words, Even When Those Words Are Screamed in Your Face<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today has been crazy, it has been hard. For some reason, Mike woke up this morning and knew he needed work from home and the reason he needed to be here was evident about an hour ago. Today was nuts. Today was crazy. You know what today taught us? Today taught us that some people just aren't living in reality. Mike and I have been here every single day for these kids we are raising for the last 8 years, and I've been there since their birth. I have an adult daughter who went through some hard times, but she's married, happy, working, in college classes and she has an amazing relationship with all of us in this house. We talk to her EVERY DAY. The next daughter graduated with above a 3.0, and she's in college, has had the same sweet boyfriend for 3+ years and she comes home every night and talks to my husband and I for an hour before bed, all while going to school full time and then she also keeps a job at night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our next son is the most tender hearted kid. He struggles with school, like SO MANY DO, but he always has since Kindergarten. He is a good brother, athletic, smart and honest. We are so proud of him. If a few grades are the only thing he's struggling with, so be it. I see kids every day with piercings everywhere all over their face, doing drugs, running away, abusing people, fighting, drinking, stealing and guess what. Grades? We can and are working with that. The next son is seriously the most generous, loving kid I could ask for. He's smart, a good friend, talented, musical and such a good brother. He's more mature than half of the adults I know, and he's probably one of the coolest people I've ever met. Plus, he's had good grades all of his life and he always asks for help with schoolwork when he needs it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Seriously, my kids are going through some awful stuff. We've been criticized, Mike and I, for not being "parents" here, but here's the kicker, we're being accused of that by someone who's been all but a ghost for the last 7 years. We do our best EVERY DAY. We have kids who love us, who don't do drugs, who come home every night, who can confide in us, who know that we can have discussions about important things and they're not going to be yelled at. Our kids KNOW we love them because we've been there every day. Actions SCREAM louder than words. I'm so glad they're all almost adults, they see, are seeing, have seen...and they're making their own choices. We're behind them 100%, just like we've been every single day. Day in, day out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We aren't perfect, but we do our damn best. They see this, and we know they do because they're making hard choices that we told them they need to be the ones to make. We have always believed in teaching our kids how to be functional, independent adults when they leave our home, and that means letting them have choices and then making them be accountable either good or bad. They know this, and we know they do because they are old enough to see that the proof is in the pudding. They know who's been here and who hasn't. And yes, it hurts them to realize this but the world isn't always a pretty place. We've put in the work, and they know it, they've lived it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We love these kids. It's not fun watching them struggle. They're such good kids. I wish they heard it from everyone in their lives, but they don't. In the mean time, we ARE parents, there IS parenting going on in this house and you can see it in the fact that for the last 8 years, we've done it alone and look. 2 successful adult children, 2 teenage boys who come home, who are awesome, who don't do drugs or drink, who love us and their siblings, and really, isn't that all you could really want in this life? We love you guys so much, Tiffany Webb, Kenzie, Jonah and Casey. You mean everything to us. Hang in there, and know that no matter what, we'll ALWAYS love you and be here for you. We will always choose you first.<br /><br />Love, Mama and Daddy M</span>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-65710181003050780702013-01-31T15:46:00.002-07:002013-01-31T15:53:50.012-07:00On Honest CommunicationThere's a lot to learn in life. When you're born you learn to look into your parents eyes and trust them, trust that they'll give you everything you need. When you grow into a toddler, you learn to walk and eventually sweet words start to spill out of your tiny mouth. You meet other children and you learn how to share, how to make friends, how to connect with strangers. School comes and you learn how to work, how to study, how to put everything into something that seems pointless all with the hopes that you'll use this stuff eventually (calculus, how I hate you)...<br />
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Teenagers learn how to deal with crushes, how to overcome that heartache when the boy, or girl, you have a fluttering heart for decides you're not worth their time. You learn so many things before you're an adult, but nothing can teach you how to love and be loved like experience, like a marriage.<br />
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I've been in a really bad marriage. That's no secret. I've been with someone who I didn't love, stayed "for the kids", worked on something that seemed pointless just because it seemed like it was admitting defeat to do anything else. I cried in bed so many nights, knowing I'd made a huge mistake, but not knowing how to get out. Bravery, courage and a lot of broken hearts came out of it, but the most amazing thing happened when I had a chance to step back and look at what I'd been through. I learned from it all. I learned what I wanted, what was important, what I'd done wrong and what I'd done right and I could have fallen apart on the day I served him with divorce papers but I didn't, you guys. I didn't fall apart. Do you know why? Because for the first time maybe ever, I was listening to my instinct.<br />
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I've always had an incredible knowledge of my instinct, the prodding I feel when I'm making a decision, the tickling in the back of my brain that starts sometimes out of the blue. I learned to trust in myself, in my instinctual gifts as a woman, as a daughter of God.<br />
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I got into a relationship with the most beautiful man in the world, and it was bliss. Love like I'd never experienced, friendship and adoration that I had only seen in the movies.<br />
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But there was baggage. From both sides.<br />
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It's not always easy, being blissfully in love. Sometimes we try not to say things we need to say, we keep little things to ourselves so we don't hurt the other person. These things, they just pile up. They start to rot. My Mr. and I, we are so careful with each other's feelings...sometimes we forget that we might have to hurt each other all for the sake of honest communication.<br />
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I've been struggling. I've got baggage like you've never seen. Not even in a Louis Vuitton shop, I could beat the crap out of that place with the amount of luggage I carry around. And he's got his own set, boy does he ever. But it's a good thing they match, our baggage. That's because we make it all match.<br />
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Seriously, you hear all those people talk about communication and you may say to yourself "yeah, I know, we're good! We talk every day!" But listen, people. Do you really? Do you share the things that you think might hurt the other person? Even if you know it might blister their heart for a while, do you tell them anyway?<br />
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See, when you keep stuff to yourself, even with the best intentions, it builds up. And it gets ugly. And by the time you're living a life full of this leaky, gross, rotting baggage you're carrying around it just stinks up the place. It festers, and yes, these are descriptive words I'm using but just listen to me for a second. The truth, honesty, these things are so important. Yes, it sucks hurting someone you love more than you love yourself, but by hurting yourself with the things you keep inside you hurt them anyway in the process, you miss an important chance to learn from it.<br />
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So here's where it leaves you...you're hurting, you've got things you haven't had the courage to tell your significant other in hopes that you won't have to add to their troubles in their life, and then you're both hurt. Rip that bandaid off, guys. Just tear that sucker off. Spill it before it gets ugly. Cleaning up spilled milk right when the glass tips over onto the carpet is a lot easier than cleaning up and de-funkifying rotten, dried, nasty milk on the rug. It's all going to come out anyway, so why not just let it out when it happens?<br />
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Don't worry, my Mr. and I are fine. We're better than ever. We're working through the fact that I've got so much baggage and so does he and by trying to protect each other from our internal struggles we've just created new, bigger external struggles. It trickles out and before you know it, it explodes.<br />
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So that's where we're at. We're strong. We've always been strong. We're just coming to a point after 10 years of knowing each other where we can just look at how things are done, and make corrections to try to eliminate any pain the other feels, even if it hurts the other one.<br />
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I'm loved. I'm blessed. I'm lucky. I'm Mrs. Easley, now and forever. And I wouldn't trade that for anything. Not a single damn thing.<br />
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.Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-26985883912973752852013-01-23T11:46:00.000-07:002013-01-23T15:40:01.351-07:00That's My Story and I'm Stickin' To It...Once upon a time, ten years ago, there was a girl of 29. She had just moved from the Seattle area to Las Vegas, Nevada with her 4 small children and her estranged husband. One day, her sister told her to get on an American Idol message board to have a battle of words with "some guy who is super funny, but super random" because the girls on there were not keeping up with his wit. She created a profile, naming herself Castaspella, after the He-man and She-Ra character and she entered the Predictions Message Board, where there were people who were predicting the outcome of the current season of American Idol (season 2) and soon enough she found the ever intelligent yet insanely random josh_glass.<br />
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And so it began...<br />
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A friendship immediately bloomed, and after a year of correspondence, Castaspella and josh_glass were best friends. Castaspella's life was in turmoil and she was in the midst of a difficult but necessary separation and eventual divorce. Months after the divorce was final, the two were wed. Two and a half years of best friendship and support grew into what it is now. The absolutely most amazing, passionate, creative and complete relationship, one that was written in the stars.<br />
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Cool story, eh bro? So this is the man, josh_glass aka Mike as he looked when I met him. He had dreads and was single and young and shy and outgoing and brilliant and wonderful at the same time, and he was beautiful. Just absolutely the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Seriously. This photo was taken by our incredible friend, the talented <b><a href="http://ayola.com/">Brooks Ayola</a>.</b><br />
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Gorgeous, huh? Holy smokes, those lips, they make me blush! I used to play with those dreads when I was worried, twist them in my fingers when I was scared of the future, hold onto them in the car while he drove when I felt like my life was coming undone, yet he was silent, loving, supportive, stunning.<br />
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Shortly before our wedding, he shaved them off. He'd just been baptized into the LDS church and wanted to start a new life with a new look. He shaved his head to the skin, and this is what he looked like for the next few years.<br />
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(Taken from the stage where I was shooting Big Boi from Outkast and C-Bone. Can you believe I found him in the crowd of tens of thousands?!?)</div>
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Still beautiful, different, more mature, definitely a father and an incredible husband.<br />
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Over the years he's grown it out, shaved it off, but never has he had the dreads again. I don't know if I want him to grow them out again or not. I let him decide. It seems like when he's happiest, he lets his hair grow. Right now, it looks like this:<br />
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It's the same way it looked when we had Lola, and Oskar:<br />
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He's handsome either way but no matter how he looks, this man, he took care of me and my 4 kids when the father of my first 4 children did not. He stepped up to the plate, not even 30 years old and raised these kids. He's been my absolute rock. He is the best listener. He is everything to us.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">Oh Mr. Easley, you make me swoon. I freakin' adore you. Like we always say "It's you and me til the wheels fall off..."</span></div>
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<br />Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-11074283498166007992012-11-29T09:47:00.003-07:002012-11-29T09:55:27.111-07:00Because Christmas Means More...<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was inspired this morning to write, to write what I'm feeling. Isn't that what a blog is for? I started blogging way back when Blogger was in Beta, I believe it was 2003. I had a different blog URL than this one but in building a family with Michael, it sort of all just moved it's way over here. Anyway...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This morning I woke up as I do every morning, hurting but happy that the sun was shining. I asked Mike what the day was like with his schedule and I stood up and came downstairs. I fed the 2 babies and sat down here to check our bank, as I do daily.<br /><br />The money situation is incredibly bleak right now. We never use credit for Christmas gifts for our 7 children and each other, and we'd saved a pretty nice bit of money for this year. 3 weeks ago, Mike lost his job due to a lay-off. Suddenly, the money we'd saved for Christmas was needed for November and December's rent, for our utility bills, our car payments and a few other things we pay monthly. Suddenly our medical insurance was gone and with me having Fibromyalgia, this means we will have to pay cash for my very expensive medications and appointments. To put it lightly, Christmas this year is gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I sat down at the computer, I was prompted to go to my email, a place where I've been emailing myself a list of things I'm thankful for. I do it there rather than on Facebook because really, I don't need to profess to anyone but myself and my God what I am grateful for. I feel it's a very personal thing and to blare it out to everyone on my Facebook profile would just seem "showy" and really, I don't need to impress anyone. Yet today, I'm going to publish this list because I feel prompted to.<br /><br />I've been so depressed about the money situation and Christmas that today I decided that instead of writing what I'm grateful for, I'd write what Christmas means to me in 1 or 2 word phrases. Just a few. The first thing that came up was "Love".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Love. Christmas is about getting together with the ones you love. It's about showing your love for your kids, for your spouse, your parents, siblings, neighbors. Christmas is showing love for The Savior. For me, it's about "love" first.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Next, I typed out Sharing. Christmas is about sharing our time, our attention, our true feelings and about sharing stories of Christmases past, times we remember when our family was young, when we ourselves were young. Our kids love hearing stories about our Christmas times and the things we did when we were little. For some reason, they get a huge kick out of it.<br /><br />Service. Service was next. I can remember when we were young, my dad bought a bunch of breakfast food and juice and took us down to a really seedy part of Las Vegas and we fed the homeless. It wasn't an organized thing, we just did it. I remember thinking "man, we should do this on Christmas, I wonder if they'll have breakfast on Christmas..." A few years ago, Mike and I lived in Yucaipa, California and we were struggling to take care of all of our kids and money was tight. The recession had just hit and it was tough. We were the beneficiaries of so much service, especially that Christmas. That year, my children learned that Christmas was about service. And every year since then we've tried to help another family in need. The words of my most favorite hymn are always present during Christmas time even though it isn't a hymn dedicated to the season, but they still fit for me. Because I have been given much I, too, must give. These words stick to me like glue this time of year and it's no wonder this paragraph is the longest one here. Christmas is Service for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Christ's Birth. Last but not least, these two words mean "Christmas" to me, as they probably do for all Christians in the world. Let's think about it. Christ was born in a lowly stable, no room for a bed. His parents were weary travelers without a home. He had no gifts other than what the Wise Men brought and yet, he was the King of the World. He was the Savior and the Son of God and yet, he had almost nothing.<br /><br />As I typed that last one I realized that yes, our kids will be lucky to get a single thing this year and yet, I was still filled with the overwhelming feeling that I can still give them a Christmas they'll remember. I'm going to have quiet nights lit by candle light where we can read the Christmas Story found in Luke, we can sing hymns, we can bake and make things for our neighbors and we can call family members who live far away. We can incorporate Love, Sharing, Service and by doing so we will create for ourselves a Christmas we may talk about for years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Be thankful for your jobs, guys. Be thankful for your abundance. Be thankful for your savings accounts and for your money saved. Be thankful for your families. Remember that many of your friends, friends you know and speak to on a daily basis, might not have all of these things.<br /><br />I'm so thankful for my kids, for Mike. I have the most amazing husband and children. This year will be tight and sparse, but at the very least, we'll have each other and I can't imagine a better gift than that.</span><br />
<br />Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-86193419363942189852012-01-09T12:33:00.003-07:002012-01-09T12:56:21.959-07:00...and I'd Like to Welcome 2012 to the GameYou know, I've done this my whole life. Written furiously for months and months at a time, hands cramping while I wrote out in BIG! CURLY! LETTERS! about how cute Tass was when he talked or how angry I was at Lisa for telling her parents it was my fault we were late coming home from the church dance when we all know it was because she wanted to drive by a certain boy's (or two's) house just to see if we could catch a glimpse of him in his bedroom, you know, doing boy stuff like putting his hats on a shelf. Or throwing a ball repeatedly at the wall for no reason at all. (all true. Boys are so boring, by the way)<br />
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I have journals that go back to the time when I was 7 years old. There's a book my parents got me for Christmas that year written by Dr. Seuss called My Book About Me. It was page after page of details about me. What color my eyes were. What my nose looked like. What kind of house I lived in. Did I live in the city? An apartment? A house? The answers were very simple, I was 7. My eyes were "blue!" (I even liked to abuse punctuation then, surprised?) My hair was "yellow!" I lived in a "house!" But the best was the one that left a blank spot for a number. For example, the question read "It is _____ steps from my bedroom door to the kitchen"/"It is _____ steps from my front door to my mailbox". You see the point right? Well, because my parents are cool, they knew that whatever I'd fill in was who I was. My 7 year old understanding of the question wasn't something numerical, no. It was a question to me that I had to visualize, and when I visualized it, I saw my feet. So that's what I put. I remember thinking "what other dang kind of steps would there be? This is the worst page ever" I'd filled in each blank with a huge, dark red word:<br />
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<b><u><span style="color: red;">FOOT!!!!!! </span></u></b><br />
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"It is <u><b><span style="color: red;">FOOT!!!!!!</span></b></u> steps from my front door to my mailbox"<br />
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"It is <span style="color: red;"><u><b>FOOT!!!!!!</b></u></span> steps from my bedroom door to the kitchen"<br />
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You have no idea how hard I laugh at that page now. That simple book is so precious to me because it perfectly illustrates who I was, how I felt then. And it's proof that I've been who I am since the second I was born. Not much about me has changed, at all.<br />
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You know, I have journals from my especially early youth. I have journals from my pre-teen years. I have journals from my teenage years and from Challenger. I have journals from my early marriage to J, from my middle years to J, from the end of my marriage to J. I have journals from the sweet time when I met and married Michael. And then I have my blog. I've had many over the years but really, the one that is "me" is this one. It's changed names and url's a few times but this is basically who I am, take it or leave it.<br />
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Sometimes I'll proclaim that this is it! I'm going to blog again and then life gets the better of me. Sometimes I'll blog and save it, never to publish it. One thing you can know about me. When I blog, I'm real. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. I'm who I am 100% of the time.<br />
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The last 6-7 years have been ones of pure discovery. I think that's what happens when you turn 30. I see it all the time with friends. I know that I've been on a quest to find out who I am. I have been so weary pretending to be something I'm not. I've found friends and family who know me, who've KNOWN who I really was. My health has deteriorated those times when I pretend to be something I'm not. I can literally look back at my journals and my blogs and there you see it, the sickest times of my life and say "oh yes. I see the pattern."<br />
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I'm a mother of adult children. I have looked at my oldest daughter and her choices and while we have helped her make some of the biggest decisions she's made, I would never want her to be anything she's not. If she wants to run off to Bali to discover who she is by volunteering at an orphanage, I'm right there with her. I've taught her all I can. I feel that way about all of my children. And I want them to be 38 year old adults who are not sick because they've hidden who they are. I want them all to be happy.<br />
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This year is the year of strength, the year of being me, the year of loving me. 2012 is the year of LIVING.<br />
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<br />Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-88780182046891382852011-09-30T12:49:00.002-06:002011-09-30T13:50:25.658-06:00October Can't Get Here Fast Enough<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think the thing I like the least about motherhood is having sick kids. Especially when they have the stomach flu. Lola's barely 18 months old and she can't exactly communicate, so for the last 2 days we've been playing a little game of "What's Wrong With Lola". The poor girl has been attached to my body, crying to be held literally day and night. Once last night she let Mike pick her up and as soon as she looked back around and saw that she wasn't with me (even though she's the one who reached out to him) she started sobbing and diving toward me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It seems like September does this to my family. When the weather changes, we all get sick. We had the healthiest summer, allergies were our only ailment. I was feeling blessed, so fortunate and then I tore the August page out of my calendar and the word "SEPTEMBER" in big bold black letters hit me square in the face. I love September for many reasons. It signals the end of a super hot summer, one in which it was too hot to take my new little Oskar out in for very long. September means the leaves will be changing colors. September means the kids are back in school. September means 3 holidays in the next 3 months are coming up! I truly love September except for the dang sickness we all get.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't know if there's something to it, like if it's a real thing or if we're alone in this. Does this happen to your family too? I also find that I am more worried, more depressed, more sad in September. Sometimes for no good reason at all. I'll lay in bed and tell myself "Why are you so sad?" Then I'll list all the things I have in my head, all the gifts I have, and then it always ends with me rolling over to my sweet sleeping husband and I'll put my arms around him and curl up to his back and he always, and I mean ALWAYS, will pull my arms around tighter and make a little "hmmm" sound, and it lets me know he's happy with "us". </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fall means baking in my house. I'm trying to be good, trying not to eat garbage but really, how can I resist making cookies, or apple pies, or pumpkin bars? Fall means General Conference for us LDS folks (and for everyone else in the world too! It's free! Tune in <a href="http://lds.org/general-conference/watch?lang=eng">here!</a>) and I look forward to the Fall session the most. We have conference twice a year, once in April, once in October of every year. I love the spring one because the winter's almost over and there are flowers surrounding the conference center and the camera men always show a wide shot of all the gardens. But I think I like the one in the fall the best. We stay in our jammies all day on Saturday, doing our cleaning duties at our leisure. We make a big breakfast both on Saturday and on Sunday and I burn candles that smell like cinnamon or pumpkin bread. The kids seem to get along better and the ones who will watch with us will usually snuggle up to us on the couch or wherever we are. Most of the time we'll all end up taking short naps, but that's part of the charm. Thankfully, if we miss a talk, we can always watch it again on the DVR, and then it's also published online in a text version the week after it's broadcast. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This last week, Mike and I decided to make a big move in our marriage. It's something that's very personal to us and it's actually a "re-attempt" at something we tried to do the winter of 2008. We were going to try again the winter of 2009 but there were some things that we felt we needed to wait for. This week we made a move toward that goal again. I'm nervous and I don't want to get my hopes up this time but I'm excited that Mike's finally ready to try again. We only had Harper last time, and this time we've got Lola and Oskar as well. It's time..it's time to try once more. Hopefully by the time we know if it's a <i>yes</i> or a <i>no</i>, the world around us will look like this...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We made it through September and all I can say is "Hey October...bring it on!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">P.S., the thing that Mike and I are trying to do has nothing to do with having a baby. Just to clarify. ;)</span></span></div>
Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-17588540847454876772011-09-27T06:30:00.000-06:002011-09-27T15:44:33.243-06:00Hi, I'm Allison and I'm Addicted to Guilt<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Sisters, wherever you are, whatever the circumstances may be, you are not forgotten. No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, He loves you, with an infinite love."</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><a href="http://lds.org/church/leader/dieter-f-uchtdorf?lang=eng">President Uchtdorf</a> quoted this at the Women's Broadcast last week and can I tell you, it couldn't have come at a better time? I missed it because of my health, but I read as much as I could as soon as I could about it. It was truly inspired.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><br />It seems like life truly does follow that old cliché of the "roller coaster" description. Two Sundays ago, the day was so full of answers. Peace and serenity wrapped around me and I had the energy to have another go at one more week. Monday came and I had great intentions. Then a car breaks. And then a client bounces a check to me. I begin to panic and I drop to my knees in prayer. Tuesday we got news of a bill we have to pay immediately because the kids' dad won't pay for it. Wednesday I spent most of the day in prayer. About my health, about my finances, about the kids, about friends who are in desperate need of help of their own. I cried way too many tears to count. It felt good and I slept like a baby that night. Thursday we got great news from our accountant about our taxes and we consider many prayers answered! Friday we find out all that tax money will be spent fixing said bills and cars above, leaving none for the things our kids still need, like school clothes. Saturday dragged along and by the time Sunday came back around I was practically crawling to church, but I got there and I was uplifted again.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">There's something to say for struggling in life. I'm not a fan of it but it seems to be how it works. For a really long time, (and I do mean a really really long time)I thought that the reasons for our struggles in life had to do with our obedience to God's commandments. I know there are blessings from being obedient, but that's not exactly what I mean. Let me try to explain a bit better.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">For example, when I was first married in 1993 to my ex-husband, money was tight as is the norm in young marriages, and I would pinch every penny we had to pay our bills. I made sure my 2 young girls had clothes and food and I was careful to save a bit of money on the side for things that our counselor said to save for like "date night" or whatever. Anyway, I called my dad and told him once that I was just at my wits end, that I'd been stressing all night because I didn't know how we were going to pay the astronomical power bill (thanks Nevada Power) that month to keep our lights on. First thing he asked me? Are you paying your tithing? Are you being obedient? OF COURSE WE WERE. I took offense to this but because I was 20, because it was my dad, and it stuck in my brain that we were being punished because I wasn't being obedient enough somehow. Maybe I had a mean thought about the neighbor who kept their music on til 4 am while I had sleeping babies above him. Maybe I'd cut someone off on the road and didn't know it. Either way, I developed a guilt over it. Whenever I would struggle, I would immediately turn to myself and think "I'm doing something bad that is causing my children to suffer." Enter the guilt cycle...</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">It's taken me many many years to figure out that this wasn't how it worked. We struggle because that's "life", that's how we grow. I mean, look at Job! Look at the life of the Savior! We struggle because life is inconsistent, life is up and downs, life is peace, and strife, and pain, and death, and joy, and tragedy, and unfairness, and miracles and on and on and on.<br /><br />I am constantly reminded of others in my close circle of friends who have struggles FAR worse than I can even imagine. I look at their strength in awe. I thank God every day that I'm not in their shoes while also begging Him to relieve them from their pain. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">There's no way to know why things happen, there's no way to know when they're going to happen. I can't live in fear of bad things happening. I can't live a life where I'm constantly feeling guilty for causing my husband's job to cut hours. I can't live where I feel guilty when we have to spend yet again our entire savings on one of the kids dental work. I want to enjoy the high times in the middle of the low times, and to do that, I have to be grateful for everything I have. Guilt is one of those things that I've had to learn to release from my life. It's no where near gone, and I don't know if it ever will be but I can tell you this. I have felt some sort of guilt since I can remember. Literally since I was probably 4 or 5. And it's just compounded til just a few years ago when my health took a drastic turn for the worse. I'll probably always struggle with it but it's nice to tell myself that everyone struggles, even the best people do.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">In other news, I'm overwhelmed by work. But I have amazing clients! So it's good! I have some who are absolutely honest in their dealings with me, who treat me with absolute kindness! But every once in a while I get the one, the one who just can't figure out how to be a good person. I have learned so much by being self employed. Sadly, it's always the ones who I'm bending over backwards for, losing money for, basically working for free for, that come back and punch me in the face. The ones who pay me what I'm worth, the ones who know from the start that they're hiring a mom of 7 who's giving them a deal so they'll be patient, those are the ones who I do my best work for. Those are the people who come back to me because we have great experiences together. These are the people I can really call my "friends". I'm so blessed to be able to do this so I can work from home and to get to do it at the pace that it takes to get things done when I have such a huge, young family. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Oh and Mike is 34, by the way. Men get better with age I think and last night I saw that so clearly. We were at the Mascot Bowl at Lehi High School and it is a huge Statewide affair! There were thousands of people there and I was seated in the top of the bleachers at the farthest end of the field. Mike was meeting us there from work and I kept my eyes open, watching every direction to see him when he got there. At one point I'd about given up and I happened to glance down to the bottom of the bleachers and there he was, looking around for us. My stomach was full of butterflies and my stupid hand shot up and I waved my arm around and was yelling "MIKE! MICHAEL! WE'RE RIGHT HERE!!!" at the top of my obnoxious lungs, apologies to the people sitting in front of me. He saw my arm and his eyes reached up to mine and he smiled the biggest smile and I <i>mmmmelted,</i> people. Melted like a popcicle on the 4th of July. I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the whole wide world sometimes. Trés sigh...</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a231a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">P.S. I'm in no way trying to blame my dad for my guilt complex. He said it out of love and didn't mean for me to take it like that. I have a habit of taking things too hard. That's just me. Take it or leave it, I say.</span></span></div>
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Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2Lehi, UT, USA40.3916172 -111.850766240.3432422 -111.9297302 40.4399922 -111.7718022tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-6181166120378009852011-09-07T15:01:00.000-06:002011-09-07T17:02:11.826-06:00And a Beach House, Definitely a Beach House<br />
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I’m in my late 30’s, guys. I’m
starting to panic. I remember back in 2003 when I met Mike I was 29
and (full of ideals? Did you think I was going to say full of ideals?
I wasn’t. Ok so I was but I’m not going to now, happy?) FULL OF
IDEAS (not ideals) and trying to get out of a horrible marriage and
I’d just moved back to Vegas from Washington State. I thought I was
old then, but boy oh boy do I feel old now. <br />
<br />
My body just
isn’t what it used to be. I exercise, I drink water and I watch
what I eat but it’s just not as healthy as it could be. True, I’ve
had 2 babies in the last year and 4 moths but that’s not going to
keep me down. I’m determined. I’m losing this weight once and for
all. If I have to cut it off myself, I will. (ok so no I’m not
cutting it off myself but I’d like to for sure)</div>
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Now, I live in a state where it snows.
A LOT. This is bad because a) I like to run/walk outside b) I don’t
like slipping. That means I can’t go outside to exercise from like
Nov-April here. That’s a long damn time.
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My hair is long, my skin is tan and
getting wrinkly and I’m catching little glimpses of myself all the
time in the mirror of myself wondering “who is that chick!?” I
remember thinking that by the time I was 40 I wanted to be settled in
a house on the beach with my kids in high school and college and my
days freed up with reading books and long walks and lunch with
friends and I’ll tell you what....I’m no where close to that. I’m
still a mom of babies. I live in the Rocky Mountains. I have lunch
with friends but only a few times a year. I’m ok with this though.
Well, ok with everything but the beach house. That haunts me. How
could it not though?<br />
<br />
I’ll sign up for a gym in town if I
have to, but I’m determined to be healthy. I want to live to see
grandbabies, and great grandbabies and if I’m so lucky to have
them, GREAT GREAT GRANDBABIES.<br />
<br />
Now, to figure out how to get
that beach house. Anybody wanna throw one our way? Thanks.<br />
<br /></div>
Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-70436461060784748382011-09-01T15:29:00.002-06:002011-09-01T15:41:35.168-06:00While They'll Still Have MeThere's something that happens to me when the calendar flips to September. I find myself looking at the sky wondering when I'll get to wear a sweater. Those tights that have been in my drawer since April find themselves flung over the big deep arm chair in my bedroom. I start to burn more scents around my house that have to do with fall, like pumpkin or apple spice or cinnamon.<br />
<br />
The end of the summer is bitter sweet and the kids go back to school, new clothes and backpacks, a moment of happiness all over their faces while they're still excited to be there. (ask them again in a month though. They'll want school to be over then, I assure you)<br />
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I took my oldest 3 boys to the beach this summer, in August as a matter of fact. I was asked to shoot quite a few families in Vegas and a few in California and if you know me, you know I can't resist the beach. It's where I feel healthy, where I feel happy, where I realize the beauty of this big rock we live on, where I feel like me. </div>
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Driving through the Utah, Nevada and California desert with the boys, heat pounding on the outside of the windows was long but on the way down at least it didn't bother us a bit. We knew we had real fun ahead. We sang loudly, rapped outloud, danced too big for the space we were crammed into but we didn't care. This was a trip with "mom" and these boys who can be found arguing with each other so many hours per week just loved each other. There's something about a trip, and a trip to the Pacific Ocean that heals all wounds. I can't wait to do it again.</div>
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September, I'm so glad you're here but just for a minute, could you just let me relive the month of August? I promise I won't be long.</div>
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Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-18893600778032010932011-08-17T01:20:00.000-06:002011-08-17T01:20:12.746-06:00BangbangGuess what...I have a huge forehead. I got it from my mom who got it from her mom and so on and so forth. Most of my children also got said forehead as well and well, let's just say there's a cowlick that is at the top of the forehead that makes it almost impossible for me to have bangs that lie down.<br />
<br />Oh how I've been so jealous of my sister Eliza who can have cute straight-across-the-eyebrows bangs. I have tried and tried, but my dumb cowlick makes it so I always get the side swoopy thing.<br /><br />Anyway, I have long hair right now. It's about to my waist in the back and I'm starting to feel like Crystal Gayle. Not good. I need a change. I think I need bangs. (oh and by the way, I pronounce it like "bongs" in case you were wondering. Sounds way fancier)<br />
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So tell me...to bangs or not to bangs?? That REALLY is the question..<br />
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<br />Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-45931763687697690762011-08-10T15:33:00.002-06:002011-08-10T15:33:14.371-06:00Well Whaddya Know...This thing is still here? Awesome.<br />
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In the last what, 4 months(?) I've done a ton of things. The best one of those things is new baby Oskar. Another one of those thing is court. Some of these things were good, and some were bad, but for the most part, I'm still here and breathing.<br />
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I've come to realize a few things about myself. I am one of those people who comes off as an extrovert, which I am. I am always talking to people, when in a crowd I seem to have a way of making myself around it and meeting everyone there. I can't go to the store without leaving as a best friend to the check out girl/boy. I'm a talker. I was blessed with the gift of gab. I am not shy.<br />
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When I stress out though, when situations cause me to fall to my knees, hands clasped and knuckles white pressed against my forehead, I turn into a hobbit. My neighbors can attest to this. I think they've figured out my moods just by watching my door.<br />
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Lately, and I mean the last 4 months, it's been bad. I've had to force myself out to the store, to the post office. I'm on my knees in prayer, pleading for a moment of relief for sometimes hours every day. I pray in the car, I'm praying when I stare outside at the mountains from my room, I'm what you might call "introverted by stress".<br />
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I've taken to running through my blessings when I find myself unable to get out of bed. My kids keep me on my toes and it's all I can do just to keep up with them. And then I have to work! It's almost impossible for me to get everything done and I get so overwhelmed.<br />
<br />
Know what I need? Really, do you know what I really need? A trip to Hawaii? A billion dollars? A new car? Sure, all of this would be nice but let's keep it real. I just want all my laundry done and my house cleaned all the way. Not just picked up like my kids and I do every day, but CLEANED. It's impossible I think. So I fret.<br />
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School starts in 2 weeks. Let's see if that helps.<br />
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Oh Oskar...thank goodness you're here. I sure love this baby.</div>
Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-27323297690672659542011-04-13T06:32:00.003-06:002011-04-13T20:13:53.561-06:00At the Bottom of the Hill on the Roller Coaster I Call "My Life"The days are so redundant lately. Thank goodness we have our routines, I feel like I'm on auto-pilot. My friend Leslie that I grew up with in Vegas called me and left me a message telling me that it was ok that I don't answer my phone...and that she loved me. I'm so lucky to have good friends.<br />
<div><br />
Mike has the flu, Harper feels terrible, Lola wears squeaky shoes now and runs around singing songs, the other kids are on spring break and I haven't even seen 3 of them. Kenzie's with friends all the time, Jonah's out with his buddies riding bikes and Casey's with his bestie, looking at everything they can see with the new telescope he got for his birthday.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I haven't talked to my sister Eliza in a month. Ashley keeps in touch with me through twitter because she knows I can handle 140 characters at a time and my brother is handling some of my legal issues in Vegas, so he gets to hear from me when I call to get updates.</div><div><br />
</div><div>When it rains...it pours. I'm in love with the last conference we just had. It keeps me going. I can barely walk, this sweet baby boy is just about to come out and I'll tell you what, it gives me an excuse to why I don't get out of bed. Thank goodness for books. A few of my friends have sent me passages of inspiration, some scripture, some quotes from famous people...and they keep me going. I have a little notebook that has one of the monsters from Where the Wild Things Are on the front and it's full of thoughts and messages that I've written down that will help me to be better when I'm feeling the weight of life right now.</div><div><br />
</div><div>7 kids, I'm so grateful for. Legal stuff that's more annoying than worrisome but just dealing with it makes me anxious. I wish I could expound but you know...I try to keep it here in our home so our words don't get twisted like they sometimes are. Let's just say we're not worried because we are the very people who've been taking care of our kids 100%, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT, of the time. 1 car down, a car with 5 seats is all we've got. Mike works 110 miles roundtrip from our home and it costs us about $350 per month just for gasoline in this economy. Sickening. Do we move? Do we find me a job that is 9-5 after the baby comes? Should Mike get a second job? Mike's mom's heart is failing. She's only got his sister with her down in California and she works so much it's really hard for her to balance work and their mom. She's so fantastic, I hope she gets better soon. </div><div><br />
</div><div>There, I had to get some of it out. The rest, well that's just stuff we don't need to talk about. Let's just say having teenagers and a big family is hard work. Mike and I are working our tails off to keep our home balanced and safe and free from outside attackers. Being REAL parents takes 24/7 work. I'm lucky to have this man of mine next to me. And I'm so glad this pregnancy is almost over. It's made a mess of my head. Hopefully this babe will be as cute as I think he is. How can he not be? He's ours...and I think my babies are the cutest kids in the world. That's what moms do right?</div><div><br />
</div><div>How'd you like that post? Let's see if Wednesday brings me something good. Like a Coke slurpee. Cross your fingers...the sun's almost up. Is it too early to drink? (a slurpee, that is. Pshh, I'm not that terrible)</div>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-5682181917708242162011-04-10T00:02:00.000-06:002011-04-10T00:02:36.123-06:00Pirates and Big Ol' BelliesI have to tell you, there's been a little bit of everything going on over in the Easley house. First off, my mother in law and sister in law came all last weekend and stayed til Tuesday. I think I already told you that but it was so exciting so...I had to tell you again! Anyway...<br />
<br />
Then, on Monday, I found out how dilated I was and then Dr. Menendez said "so you'll be having this baby before next week! But let's just make another appointment for next Monday just in case you don't..." Well...I didn't.<br />
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I won't.<br />
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My body is holding onto this baby for dear life. I swear he's about to fall out, gross I know, but still that's how it feels! And I'm contracting like...constantly. In 7-11 the other day I had to do that stupid thing you see women on TV do when they're in labor. I've never experienced this pain outside of the hospital, but I had to stop where I was and grab onto the nearest sturdy structure, which happened to be a huge display of baseball cards with gum, gummi peach rings and Granny B's pink frosted cookies. I stood there holding onto the rack with one hand and my other hand was on my lower stomach as I leaned forward and said "oohhhhhhhhh my gosh, ohhhh holy night..." over and over. Hey, it's better than the F word I figure.<br />
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Anyway, came home, been home for days, no baby.<br />
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I did however get some amazing maternity pictures done with the fantastic gals at <b><a href="http://purephotoanddesign.com/">Pure Photography and Design</a>.</b> (click!) They're really good friends of mine and just as sweet as they are talented. I love them.<br />
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Never have I ever had pictures done of me while pregnant, and never have I loved a photo of myself like I do some of these.<br />
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This is our last baby, for sure, and I just wanted to get some shots of me when I was juuuuuust about due, and this is what happened. Typically, I shoot maternity shots for women when they're about 32 weeks along so they don't feel too big and gross, but really, I wanted to capture the true size and look of me with this last sweet baby we're being blessed with.<br />
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We laughed our way through the shoot and halfway through we saw this couple who was so bizarre. He had a fedora on and was about 100 lbs and 5'11" and she was about 5' tall and as round as she was tall. Oh and she was older than his 25'ish years old. I figure she was about 40 but either way, they walked around with a point and shoot, following us, and following everyone else at the amphitheater. We saw them leave around 7:30 pm and about 8ish we wrapped up our shoot because it was getting dark.<br />
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We stood at the trunk of my car chatting for about 20 minutes til an older gentlemen came up to us and asked us if we'd been broken into. Our cars, you know? And I checked my car...nope. Crystal checked her truck...nope. Rachel checked her minivan...YEP! She'd had her purse stolen and all of her id's and credit cards and some checks. The poor guy was a scout leader leading his boys on a clean up the park activity, and while they were cleaning up the area, they broke into his minivan too and stole his wife's purse that he'd accidentally brought with him!<br />
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So sad and scary, so we called the police and of course he thought we were nuts when we told him that we thought a pirate lady with a patch and a young skinny man with a fedora had been seen in the area right when the stuff was stolen. Reports were filled out and we all left and went home. The cop said they'd had reports all over American Fork that night and that the purses and wallets were being stolen and then the cards were being used in as little as 15 minutes. Can you believe some people? <br />
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Anyway, I seem to attract the weirdos in the world and I'm so glad I do. I live a pretty darn fun life. I'm not complainin'!Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-53665267768004406542011-04-06T09:39:00.000-06:002011-04-06T09:39:32.539-06:00A Good, Solid WeekendMy mother in law and sister in law came to visit us last weekend. They arrived on Saturday night and left early before the sun came up on Tuesday. Driving that 10 hour trek from Utah to Southern California is never fun...trust me...I did it no less than 10 times last year.<br />
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The kids had the best time with them; shopping, watching movies, going to movies, eating birthday cake, playing "Just Dance 2"...you know..."fun aunt Amy" and "Awesome Grandma Easley" kind of stuff. The trip was short and we wish we could have kept them here for the next month, but Amy has to be back to work and Grandma has doctor's appointments.<br />
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Speaking of, I'm dilated to a 3-4 and 80-90% effaced. Now, the baby isn't supposed to be here til the end of April but we'll see. My body is just done I think. Having 7 kids, 2 of which will only be 13 months apart is good stuff and all but I don't think 37 year old bodies like doing it so much.<br />
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The weather is weird as is normal here in Utah. Last Saturday we had 78° weather and the next morning woke to snow. Then Monday it was warm again and yesterday it blew freezing wind and rain all over us! I love it but we all seem to get sick when it does this! <br />
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Lola's got a new habit of waking up in the middle of the night; just screaming and crying and even if we rock her or put her in bed with us, she's inconsolable! I remember Harper doing this just before Lola was born. I truly think there's some science whether it's physical or Godly to it. Like, are they doing this to prepare me for a new baby who'll wake every couple hours with a sweet cry? Either way, Sesame Street is her only solace. I swear, that girl cracks me up.<br />
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Lola turned 1 last month, Tiff turned 19 last month, Casey turned 12 two months ago and Jonah turns 14 in three days. We waited to have the candle ceremony til the California family came to visit.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Lola was impressed with the fire. Who wouldn't be? 1 candle For The Win!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tiff, Casey and Jonah decided they still wanted to blow out candles but really didn't want photographic proof. Tough crap kids. Your mom takes pictures. Get over it.</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">And of course, we can't leave the 4 year old even though his birthday isn't til July. That kid likes to party, what can I say?</div><br />
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General Conference was also last weekend. If you didn't watch, you should have. What an inspirational weekend. I got tons of quotes out of it because if you know me, you know I loves me some quotes.<br />
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Here are a couple of my faves:<br />
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Success in marriage is not so much marrying the right person, but being the right person - Pres. Thomas S. Monson<br />
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Choose the one you love and love the one you choose<br />
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The gospel is built to "comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable"<br />
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Tomorrow the text from conference is available on the conference site and I can't tell you how excited I am! There were 2 specific talks from the Saturday morning session that I can't seem to get out of my head. They both had everything to do with mothers and fathers, and wives and husbands. You know when you hear a speaker or a teacher or a quote and you think "that was spoken just for me"? Well, that happens often with General Conference for many, but these particular talks spoke directly to my sore and inquisitive soul. So many things are happening in our life and we're trudging through with our heads high while we secretly want to sit right down on the floor and cry. I know everyone's going through these kinds of things right now but last weekend couldn't have come at a better time.<br />
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I'm so grateful for words of comfort, whether they be from church or friends who stop by with sweet and simple gifts or a tweet in my general direction asking me how I'm feeling today. Now if I can just get my sorry butt to put on some pants today we'll be heading toward a really really good day. Oh and thanks for reading guys. It's nice to know we're all in this together! (now I hope you sing this all day because I said that:)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NDHYZtwjFTs" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-26013132507754099292011-04-01T14:02:00.001-06:002011-04-01T14:03:22.423-06:00Don't Give Up, Don't You QuitI'm one of those girls who loves the rain. When it rains I burn candles that smell like apple or pumpkin, I bake, I open all my windows and blinds. My kids know that when it rains they're in for treats because rain just makes me feel...I dunno...alive? Yes.<br />
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But today the sun is out and it's a fantastic 70°. Lola's napping after a morning of running around in her new little shoes on the grass in the back yard and Harper's begging to go to the park. If only I could walk down there right now, I sure would.<br />
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This weekend my mother in law and sister in law are coming to stay with us. With me being in this state where I'm not doing much cleaning or working at all, I hope they can stand the mess of my house. You know, having 6 kids and a very pregnant lady doesn't make for a very good homemaker. <br />
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This weekend is also General Conference. For those of you who aren't Mormon, this is when the leaders of our church speak to the entire congregation of people who believe in our faith and also to whomever decides to listen in. It happens twice a year and it goes for 2 hour sessions, 2 on Saturday for everyone and a meeting on Saturday night for the men, and then on Sunday for 2 sessions that last 2 hours each.<br />
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Typically, there are stories told, memories shared and it's to say the least...INSPIRING. You can tune in online or on tv if it's offered where you are. Some people even go to church buildings to hear the messages broadcast and in other countries of the world, this is how they tune in. It's for every one! You don't have to be LDS to watch or listen. (<a href="http://lds.org/general-conference?lang=eng"><b>go here</b></a> to tune in online!)<br />
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You may remember me posting a video a month or so ago by one of our leaders called <a href="http://easleyclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/come-what-may-and-love-it.html"><b>Come What May and Love It.</b> </a> Today I opened up my Facebook to see that my sweet brother had sent me a link to another talk that has to be one of my most favorites. It's by a man we respect and love called Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. It's called "<a href="http://lds.org/ensign/1999/11/an-high-priest-of-good-things-to-come?lang=eng"><b>...Good Things to Come</b></a>" and honestly, it's what I needed to hear today. My brother sent it to me last Friday and I just got it today and it's a good thing because in spite of all the sunshine outside, the last few days have really taken me to some of the lowest places you can be. I needed to get this message late because I needed it NOW.<br />
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Lately, my spirit has felt broken. I feel like I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel right now. Financially, we're struggling, emotionally we're struggling and even though I'm surrounded by my kids and Mike, I often feel so alone. Last night I kept myself awake reading and tidying up my house because I didn't want to go to bed because I knew that when I would go to bed, the morning would inevitably be here in the blink of an eye. Waking up seems so sad because it's just another day where I'm searching for creative ways to take care of my family.<br />
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This little video is amazing. Watch it. Just do it. It's 5 minutes out of your life and even if you don't have the same beliefs as I do you'll know that we just need to tell ourselves the same thing.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>“Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it—30 years of it now, and still counting. You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”</i></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;">Welcoming Spring is lifting my spirits! Hearing the words of men who understand life and it's trials, men who've seen more than I have who've gone down roads that I've yet to travel, these things bring me happiness today. I'm searching for ways to keep light and happiness in my home and I hope you all can do the same! Let's all go plant some flowers...whadd'ya say?</span></i></span></span>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-48648389450031343262011-03-30T10:41:00.000-06:002011-03-30T10:41:14.154-06:00Awesome<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXENAvEuJrDoJFv2YTmjwA7rpluSoKzPWO4_0EhgnpECnuZ5HVTmFEYqlj5vxDf_UqclYW0INjDbT37w94KeOFjBVkBBQ1E5oRmoBrFHrVYwOlamKsc_ca0kQDn4wFI37325s3yq4P2xyB/s1600/rollercoaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXENAvEuJrDoJFv2YTmjwA7rpluSoKzPWO4_0EhgnpECnuZ5HVTmFEYqlj5vxDf_UqclYW0INjDbT37w94KeOFjBVkBBQ1E5oRmoBrFHrVYwOlamKsc_ca0kQDn4wFI37325s3yq4P2xyB/s1600/rollercoaster.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">check out my sweet new ride, the "Emotional Roller Coaster"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">My goal for today is to get pants on. Here's to reaching for the stars, right?</div>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313597431790835987.post-20695743351771076012011-03-29T11:24:00.000-06:002011-03-29T11:24:44.314-06:00The Post Wherein I List Stupid Stuff<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Since I'm almost 36 weeks pregnant and trying to keep this baby in here til 40, I've been spending Lola's nap time sitting on my bed. And after making dinner time. And after Lola's bedtime but way before my own real bedtime. Seeing as I can't read without getting a headache (<a href="http://www.babycenter.com/0_vision-changes-during-pregnancy_1456567.bc">my eyes are all jacked up as is normal with pregnant women (click!)</a>), this has left me only a few options of what to do while I'm there. I'm going to list a few of them now but not in any particular order since none is really any more awesome than the other:</span><br />
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</span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">watch the open window of my bedrooms carefully as we have no working screens on them waiting for The Deadly Spider of 2011 to come creeping through, trying to bite the back of my thighs when I'm not looking. This may sound unrealistic but you don't live in my neighborhood along a path that winds around Utah Lake, aka Deadly Bug Lake. (named by us, because we're really the only ones who count here)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">think of all the frivolous food I want to eat. This can be damaging but in my present state wherein I'm trying to GROW A HUMAN BEING I'm not too concerned about it. Especially since none of them are actually going to make it to my face/stomach/baby mostly because of the next thing on my list.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> fret over money. This may not seem like the most fun thing to think about but guess what. You're right. It's not. It's panic inducing. We have a big family. We've made the choice to have me stay home with the children for many reasons, many really important reasons. So here I sit, counting the bills in my head, adding up the money coming in and occasionally I get to plan something out with the extra dough we're bringing in. Something fun like buying everyone a gumball at the quarter machine next time we're at the grocery store. Hey Big Spendaaaaaaaaaah....</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">watch ID on Discovery. If you haven't already found this channel, find it. I assure you it's worth your time. If we weren't in a huge contract with Directv, we'd have cancelled cable, but we are. So I watch shows and Harper hates them. He says "mom, are you watching one of 'your shows'?" and I say "it's a show about a lady yes" and he says "does she get killed?" and I say "yes, probably" and he says "Oh mom" and I say "isn't it nap time? Mama needs to watch her stories" and he goes to lay down. I'm glad we have this understanding. Oh and before you call child protective services, please do understand that when he goes to "lay down" that actually means he gets to play the Wii uninterrupted for as long as Lola sleeps. He still gets his daily spankins in though, don't you fret.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">think about holidays that aren't even remotely close. I will sometimes sit here and think about Christmas time and wish that they made Peeps in the shape of wreaths, or trees. Or maybe we can just bring Peep Ghosts to Christmas and reinact a scene from A Christmas Carol. Jacob Marley never tasted so squishy delicious!</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">make plans to clean the garage, but then I'm soon deterred because of what could be creeping in there. (see item #1)</span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I could go on and on here but really, do you come to my blog to read about my craziness? Probably not but if you do, let me give you one last item on my list so you can see just how crazy I am. I present to you, Fantastic Number 7 (whatever that means) (actually, I'm about to have Lucky Number 7! so it may actually make more sense than I had intended it to)</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">nap. Can you believe it? A mother of 6 who gets to nap. Now, keep in mind, this will be during Lola's nap and often Harper is next to me playing his DSi for "quiet time". But really, a nap. For a mom of 6. Told ya it was crazy.</span></li>
</ul></div>Alli Easleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929011262821985888noreply@blogger.com8