Technology

I will write this as tactfully as I can, but please beware that I'm up on a pretty high horse that I enjoy riding. Keep a salt shaker handy and know that chances are I will get bucked off sooner or later…

Let me give a little background history on where I'm coming from. Growing up I've always felt at least 5 years behind on technology. This is probably because I grew up in the country: neighbours 1 mile away, nearest town 30 minute drive, no cell phone service, S--L--O--W Internet, and 3 TV channels kind of upbringing. I got my first cell phone and started using a digital no-film camera in 2006 when I graduated high school and moved out. I didn't really start texting till 2008. I remember typing on a type writer, printers that you had to tear the perforated sides off, and using encyclopedia books from home to do school work. Although at the time growing up I felt that I was somewhat missing out, looking back I wouldn't change it for the world. You know what this "simple life" childhood gave me? Values and self-esteem. It gave me the space I needed to find me and stand more firm in the midst of peer pressures. It also gave me a built in defiance to technological dependence.

When I'm with someone or a group of people and their eyes are glued to a phone, if they don't apologize or inform me of what they are doing on it I have one word in my head - REJECTION. This isn't the 'oh I'm not interesting enough to hold their attention' 'they must not care about me' therefore I feel rejected by them. This is the 'I must jump on top of my noble steed and ride far away from these mindless peasants' therefore I reject them. I realize this is sounding totally rude and a bit conceded of me but one of the things I value is independence and so when I see an adult so dependent on a screen that they cannot eat, sleep, breathe, shower, have a bathroom break, or be around other people without touching, holding, and staring at a screen I feel that I'm far too independent to ever relate to them. However, as soon as the phone is put down or an explanation given I feel free to trot back to their presence and dismount, "Hi."

If people depend on social media to carry out their lives, they're no longer living. 'If I don't post me playing with my kids everyday than people will think I don't spend time with my kids,' 'If I don't publicly announce what my child did and how I am disciplining them than people will think I am a bad parent.' 'If I don't post i love you to my spouse's wall everyday than people will think we don't love each other.' 'If I  don't post some photos of horses than people will think I'm a city slicker.' ' If I don't post immediately about my recent accomplishments than people will think I am not proud of the life I'm living.' 'If I don't post about my job than people will think I don't work hard.' 'If I don't immediately upload this amazing moment in time right this second as it's happening then people will think it never existed.'
"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" I've never understood why this question exists... -does 2+2 really = 4? YES you dumb dumb!  I fear technology is creating a dependence of such strength that life and the very definition and meaning will be lost. When your first response to a crisis or emergency is to post it on the old FB, your intelligence has been taken from you. When the first response to an amazing happy, joyous occasion is to upload it immediately for all on-liners to see, you missed your moment. It is in the quiet of your heart that your spirit lives, not the reflection of others sunglasses.

Sometimes when I'm playing with my precious little one and she does something particular cute, funny or adorable (which is a 24/7 occurrence) I find my mind quickly jumps to "camera now!" But I'm now picking my moments to act on this. I'd rather miss a photo opportunity than shorten a childhood memory. I would rather be present in her life than hidden constantly behind a screen/lens. You know what's better than looking at photos? Being present in that moment and making it a memory to your spirit. Photos may spur you to remember a moment in time, but don't forget, photos are NOT the memory, photos are a thing, and things are not what cling to your spirit and last for the eternities. If you are feeling overwhelmed in being behind in editing, posting, printing or scrapbooking your photos, remember the memory has nothing to do with how or where the photo is. I don't have a photo of the most profound heartwarming memories I own, and yet they somehow exist none the less.

Technology has it's place and proper use, but I am shying away from putting myself in a position where my independence is lost. This is my phone... until they force me to change:

The dawn has come where people now have to compete with screens for attention, for interaction, for love, for time. Don't make this a war, stick to the right side.

Heaven's slice is putting your screen down and enjoying the moments in your life with the people in it.

Reese Sticks

Self control when it comes to food is not my strongest quality. This is particularly true when it comes to most things chocolate.

Reese Sticks just so happens to be the best chocolate bar of all time. Your argument to state otherwise is protected under a 'freedom of speech' law, but just know that you are in fact wrong.

So keeping these two things in mind. My darling awesomeness of a husband surprises me with this delightful chocolate bar every so often. Though he has learned that if he buys me more than one he cannot divulge where the others are hidden. There have been many instances in past times where I have eaten 8 at one sitting (2 kingsize). After this I feel kinda sick, but not too bad, the real hard part is the next day: I so desperately would like the another, but I had selfishly ate all of them the previous day not thinking how future me would feel about it.

The hubs had recently given me one in which I started to devour, but found it tasted kinda rancid. I checked the expiry date which indicated it was in fact overdue by a month. I was faced with a difficult decision: Do I suck it up and continue to eat the other half, and after finding out where the other two are   devour their rancidness too? Sure it was gross, but you didn't know that until the aftertaste. After much thought provoking voices ran through my mind, the final decision was made: to not continue eating them and to throw them all out. This was hard, I L-O-V-E Reese Sticks, so throwing them out proved to be a difficult thing.

A metaphor of this trying situation in the simple life of me holds 2 great wisdomous (let's pretend that's a real word) lessons:

1. Sometimes you need to take a break from the thing you love in order to not resent it in the future. - If I had continued to eat these expired Reese Sticks I would have probably gotten sick and grown to resent their taste as they'd always remind me of that one instance of grossness. I would have lost the thing I loved.

2. Sometimes you need to take into account for the "aftertaste" your actions will have, what may feel good and right at the time may feel bad and wrong in the future. - The bites of this chocolate bar were good, when it was sitting in my mouth it tasted fine. However, upon swallowing, the aftertaste was absolutely disgusting and lingered like that for a long time.

(Shameless advertising in hopes someday the president of Reese Sticks will see this and give me a lifetime supply)

       Fun Fact: I wanted to get a photo of me eating the chocolate bar, but I ate it all before I had the chance, so I melted chocolate chips and smeared them on my lips to appear as if I just ate them… let's just say my lips didn't turn out as well as planned.

Heaven's slice is knowing when you need to take a break from something you once loved in order not to resent it later and acknowledging tomorrow's consequences for right now's actions.

Putting your children in boxes

No, this post is not about the story of that couple taking in unwanted babies that the mother placed in their box (but wow, that was an amazing story hey?!).

Soooo much information on raising babies, children, and teens are surfacing everywhere I look: If your child has the following traits it is known as THIS type of personality and you must use THESE tactics in your parenting or your child will become a serial killer anxiety ridden depressed scared lonely failure of a human being who will require years of therapy and/or prison to correct. Which all could have been avoided if you simply would have placed your child in this box here and only said and done what is in this matching box. But, parents of previous generations weren't taught this back then, so you're not to blame, though now that you have heard this information it's now your responsibility to do as I say or your child will suffer the consequences. After all, I am a psychologist, psychiatrist, mom of 2, mom of 11, owner of a large corporation, studying childhood development in college, a teacher, a famous actor, a successful blogger, a journalist etc. and am therefore the expert on your child. Obviously I'm exaggerating to prove a point, but this is how a lot of information on parenting feels when coming across to me and I don't like or agree with it.

Sure, some points are proven useful with statistics and what not, but I think we forget these are in fact human beings. You know, Heavenly Father's pride and joy whom he created out of his own image. I'm pretty sure he didn't say ok this group you will be blue and this is how you will act and these blue things are what you'll require from others in order to succeed in this life, and this group will be red… green… purple… etc. I feel we are all individually unique and special and the only thing universally required to help us through this life is simple: LOVE. Teach your children they are loved and show them to love. There are many ways a child can be reared, but there is one founding principle it always needs to come back to and that is love.

"As a mother you have been given divine instincts to help you sense your child's special talents and unique capacities." - Elder Richard G. Scott The Eternal Blessings of Marriage

This child came to you, therefore Heavenly Father matched your specific and individual wonderful gifts, talents, and personality to nurture this precious gift. Prayerfully raising your child with love WILL be enough, and come what may this love must remain. Sometimes we need to just get back to the basics.



Heaven's slice is teaching love to our children.

Journal vs. Blog

I kind of have this problem where I tend to personify things that are not living… like my journal for instance. An array of emotions flooded my mind when starting this blog (this last time) and my journal's feelings wracked my heart. How would it (gender is unknown) feel to have me write these seemingly "best works" of my writing skills on a computer and not on it's own tender pages whom I've loved since I was 8?

For my own peace at night, I must state that my journals are with the hope diamond in the bottom of the ocean where you will NEVER get to them.Sorry.

I really had a hard time with how to explain this new venture of blogging to my journal. I started writing, stating how this blog thing could never compare or compete to our relationship, but was something I wanted to pursue none the less. I admitted it would have better grammar, correct spelling, and more eloquent wording(thank you delete button, remember type writers? I'm young enough that I shouldn't, but I do. I'll write more on my technology delays another day). It hurt me to let it know another avenue would also share a piece of me. But then, I remembered an old limerick I had written in years past "…because when you love someone, you give them the most of you, you don't slack off - giving only your best reviews…" And I felt better about the whole blog thing. My journal has the most of me, the good, the bad, and the brutally honest me. I can't really scratch out pen on paper and I hate using whiteout, so my journals are just the constant honest ramblings of me, and I love that it keeps those ramblings a safe/secret haven for me.

I love my journal, the pen on paper feel with just me and no outside judgement has always been one of my go to happy places. It's funny how some things in life you practice with discipline, you work hard forcing them to become habit, but journal writing was never that way for me. I was never forced or pressured to write a journal, it was just something I did naturally. The first journal I was given was at age 8 for my baptism and my mom wrote the first entry with me - something just clicked. After that first entry, it was all mine; I could write ANYTHING I wanted in it, and no one could ever have it or see it. I loved it, and that love still continues.

It's funny to feel this love for my journals and yet still have that undecided death decision to perhaps burn them before anyone can open them. "… sometimes I want to light her on fire, but I don't, because I love her…" - name that movie! 

I feel like I've proclaimed my love for my journal enough times in this post to adequately let this blog know it's place and give my journal more piece of mind on the subject.

Wait, may be one more:

Heaven's slice is my JOURNAL. 

The Mommy brain

Ok, so I'm sure many of you have heard of "pregnancy brain," where when you are pregnant you forget many common things you normally wouldn't. I never had this while pregnant, though I did lie stating that I did, using it as a blameless excuse when getting caught for doing something incorrectly at work (but that's between you and me). Anyhoo, I do have what's known as the 'mommy brain,' after having a baby this past year.

Definitions:
Mommy Brain: The state in which a primary caregiver of a child forgets common words, relative's names, left and right as it applies to shoes, where she lives, phone numbers, simple math, and the topic of conversation post 5 second minimum after opening her mouth.

Daddy Brain: similar to the mommy brain, but proven not as severe. (the hubs has this, and it's kinda adorable) *statement in ( ) not approved by said husband therefore retracted.

-official definitions provided by 'Julie's brilliant, all be it scattered, brain.'

I'd like to further interpret this state of mind as it applies to my current condition. I will be using a metaphorical form of symbolism to provide further information, as I'm having trouble uploading my interpretive dance :

It's like my brain is a computer. It has many files and documents I've needed throughout my life. Once having a baby to care for though, my computer started automatically downloading all these other apps, links, toolbars, advertisements etc. Pop ups are constantly clouding my computer; some are viruses trying to get my system to crash and some have proven very useful and needed. I'm constantly trying to 'x out' or 'download now' as i sift through these constant pop-ups. Sadly I have to admit, that sometimes when walking into a group of moms, too many pop-ups with viruses attached cloud my computer and I must exit before I crash! So, with this constant array of pop-ups it's hard to get back to my past folders located on my desktop (aka - remembering what I already know). One frequent pop-up that has proven to be a life-necessity has the downfall of slowing down my current projects (namely conversations) at hand. It's a baby alarm clock reminder of sorts. Every couple minutes (sometimes I can snooze it for longer) it automatically pops up with the reminder to promptly answer the following questions: "where's my baby and how's my baby?" This reminder requires immediate action to take place no matter where you are, what you're doing, or who you're with. My computer's slowing down in that it has tried speeding up faster than I originally thought it could go. My files are harder to sort through now that my baby reminders are popping up left and right. This has caused me to reboot my words so they can come out of my mouth at a quicker pace (a working progress), this way a full sentence can be completed before the alarm interrupts all trail of thought and I can no longer complete the conversation.

This may or may have not made sense to you, but if it didn't I'll just blame it on my mommy brain, and I'm not lying, I have it.


Heaven's slice is remembering it's ok to forget.

Why we can't be friends

I'm pretty passionate about this topic, especially after having a daughter. I want her to continue to be amazed at the beautiful body she has and how smart and evolving her mind is. If this is what I desire of her I know I must gain and keep knowledge of this for myself.
____________________________________________________________
(insert mirror)

Why we can't be friends:

We can't be friends because the popular magazines say we didn't make the cut for the top 20 most beautiful women in the world.
We can't be friends because the internet keeps popping up with ads that say a certain weight or size is where happiness is.
We can't be friends because we don't look near as good in those jeans as the girl on the poster.
We can't be friends because we don't know how to wear our makeup like that photo on pinterest clearly pointed out to us.
We can't be friends because every media outlet states we should look this certain way, act this certain way, have these certain things and we just don't.
We can't be friends because the standings showed us as coming in last.
We can't be friends because of past junior high school experiences where people told us we weren't pretty enough, smart enough, or good enough to make it in this world.
We can't be friends because our role models be it family, friends, co-workers, or acquaintances aren't friends with themselves, and you don't want to be left out in not feel the same way.
We can't be friends because our mothers showed us not to be, as her mother showed her, and hers before that.
...
Actually, I'm covering up to the truth... the real reason we can't be friends is you. I really don't care what other people have to say about us, I only care what you think of me. You are the reason we can't be friends: You call me a failure when you know I tried my best that time. You judge my beauty based numbers, which FYI is not only absurd, but impossible. You keep bringing up my mistakes of the past over and over when you know how truly sorry and regretful I am of them. You hardly ever let me go do what I'm truly passionate about because you're scared of what others might think or say. You're constantly comparing me to all these other women who aren't even us. AND you call me really mean names be it slob, lazy, fat, stupid, ugly etc. not only in private, but in front of other people!

If we're going to make this work you need learn to treat me the way you need to be treated.
_____________________________________________________________


I know my daughter is still just a baby, but I can just tell how glorious she sees herself through those big bright eyes. She knows how magnificent she is. How I want so much for her to keep that knowledge. So, as her mother I'm learning that for myself: how magnificent I am.

For me, studying more of Christ's life and words of the prophets have really soothed my self-inflicted wounds and has in turn given me the space I needed mentally to move forward. Learning how important I am to my heavenly father has enabled me to start internalizing His point of view. I've become a very dear friend to me. I'm learning to forgive myself, compliment myself, let myself do things I want to do, nourish myself with scripture study more routinely, and laugh with myself more. And through this journey you know what I've found? I'm becoming a better friend to those around me; I can forgive them more quickly, compliment them more freely, encourage them more in whatever their endeavours, and just be more mentally present for them (this most definitely includes those within my household). I've found that I'm loving my fellow man much more than I had in the past.

I'm so grateful that god sends down babies that can teach us about our worth. We need these reminders so much more than before in a world where it constantly tries to put us at war with ourselves. Let's be better friends to ourselves so we can help lift and strengthen those within our reach.

Heaven's slice is being a friend to yourself.

Things I NEVER thought I'd say

Here's 5 funny things I never thought I'd say this past year:

1. That's a huge booger, please let me pick it! I can't explain why, but I now take thorough enjoyment picking another person's nose. I anxiously plot my next attack once I encounter an unsuccessful retrieval. Sometimes a lot of my day's thought process revolves around these attacks, as you may already know, babies can be quite uncooperative.
2. I miss my job. This probably isn't what you'd think. You see, I had easy access to surgical gloves there. Ok that probably still doesn't make sense, let my further explain - I HATE the feeling of pulp and orange juice on my fingers, but I LOVE oranges. Brilliantly, I came up with peeling and eating oranges with surgical gloves on a couple years ago while at work. Whilst peeling an orange today I found myself actually spitting out these words. Pretty sure once I purchase a box of gloves though, this statement won't fall out of my mouth again.
3. I can see why people nurse way further into a baby's life. I truly didn't think I'd say this, but after my first encounters of feeding my baby solids, it spilled out. Um, yeah, it's sooooooooooooo messy, my goodness is it messy, like, wow, and time consuming. Nursing is way quicker, easier and mess free. Granted my daughter's much better at it now and I'm more used to the messes. It was just the initial shock of food literally everywhere that I was so surprised over. (please no one take offence to this one. I don't care if you never nursed or nursed till they were way older, we're on the same team and that's your personal decision. Chances are, you're a terrific mother)
4. Dang I'm hot. (as in my generation's word for physical attractiveness) I'll admit, I say this a lot  more often to myself than the average woman (high five for positive self talk!). But, I never thought I'd say this and really mean it as much as I did when I was pregnant. Honestly, clothes hugged my belly just perfectly, I looked fantastic in tight skinny pants, I just felt all around gorgeous. Of course other people's comments of how huge or big I was getting did pop my bubble, but once I was out of their presence I was back to feeling my super hot self. It could have been the hormones giving me this wonderful clouded mind's view, or it could have been that I was just so grateful and excited to have a pregnant belly that I actually saw it's true glorious beauty. Either way, pregnancy looked pretty good on me.
5. I'm hot. (as in the super warm kind) I used to be the girl sneakily turning up the furnace at church; people did NOT appreciate that let me tell you. I used to be the girl who had to carry a jacket in the summer because chances are I'd have to step into an alaskan iceberg of a store or home at some point. I used to be the girl who refused to jump in the water because my body would go into shock. I used to uncontrollably shiver so bad when drinking a slurpie that it looked like I was having a seizure (which can I say was so worth it, even though super embarrassing when someone saw me and called 9-1-1 because they were worried - Not a true story). I was the girl that LOVED the feeling of sitting in a car that had been basking in the sun all day. But after having a baby my body temperature got warmer, and warmer, and warmer and now I'm hot.

Heaven's slice is: successful booger-picking, not having pulp sticky fingers, a baby's messy face, pregnant bellies, and warm bodies to jump into cold lakes with.

New Year's Resolutions

Quite honestly, I LOVE new year's resolutions. Every year I reflect in my journal what happened that year, review the goals and theme of last year, and write new goals and theme for the new year. I have around 50+ goals I excitedly write down. Some of these resolutions are serious, some are silly, some are physical, but most are spiritual. With each year it seems some goals stay in place even though they were already accomplished year after year and some goals get thrown to the wayside. Each new year I find myself more so editing my old resolutions instead of starting brand new. I like this way of doing it.

Next year at the start of 2015 is where I watch myself with great empathy. She will be older and therefore much wiser; having had even more experiences to go through forcing much growth and strength upon her. When she opens her journal to 2014 and the goals made, how will she take what I have wrote? -
What goals will offend her that that's actually what I thought was important in 2014?
What will make her proud that she fulfilled that daunting-but-oh-so-worth-it task?
What goals were completely out of her hands to begin with, and therefore hurt her to see them written on the page?
What goals will she regret weren't on that page?
What easy fun one's will she delightfully check off?
Will she feel like one who has failed?
Will she feel she has succeeded?
Will she be editing out most of the goals or will she be keeping them for the new year?

I often look to my future self as a real person. I treat her like porcelain: beautiful, yet easily breakable. I don't want her to look back and be saddened by the choice I made earlier that day/month/year. I don't want her to remember that awful thing I said to her as she stood on the scale. I'd hate it if the guilt consumed her for what I didn't let her do for someone who needed her help. Those negative words or actions about a fellow child of god that I could fill her mouth with will break her into a million pieces and it will be a long recovery process. I'm so fortunate she's forgiven me for my teenage years and all those awful things I said and did to her.

I feel my future self is a very real and tangible being, after all, isn't she? Christ atoned for her over 2,000 years ago. Let us all take good care of our future selves in letting them know they were thought about, not only by our redeemer, but by us as well.

Happy New Year!

Heaven's slice is being kind to your future self.

Heaven's slice is...

This is the 5th (I think) attempt at writing a blog. Each time I've posted on this blog for the past 7 years the thought sets in that I have just posted my shoe's size, colour, shape, feel, texture, brand name, and number of skuff marks, thereby stating to the world - "These are my shoes please walk around in them and judge me!" Anxiety sets in and I delete delete delete. Admitting I HATE the feeling of people knowing too much about me, meanwhile accepting my LOVE of writing, I will take comfort in my anxiety medication composed of the knowledge that my shoes are stuck on my feet so perfectly that no one could ever take them off to try them on. Without further digression here is my blog!


Here's the backstory behind the title:
A few years back I once day dreamed of writing a blog called 'Heaven's slice.' This blog was going to be the happy proud ramblings of my husband and I's very own cattle ranch family life. Yes, somehow we were going to fall into millions of dollars, enough to afford our very own cattle ranch. But then, I became a mother, both physically and spiritually and the following image was tenderly branded onto my heart:

Yes, that's my husband and daughter. These two remind me everyday what a big slice of heaven I have been blessed with. No amount of acres, cattle, or even horses could ever compensate.

Heaven's slice is family.