Lately it feels like life is spiraling out of control. For awhile it was just because I was so busy, busy, busy finishing my book, but now it's more like things are constantly happening in the world around me that I have no control over, reminding me just how much this life is not ours, but our Heavenly Father's. It's hard for me to think about, that it's His hand allowing all these things to happen, unimaginable things, but I try to have faith that He knows what He's doing, that there's a reason for it all.
I've struggled lately, for a few months now, with a hot bed of not-so-pleasant feelings, primarily numbness towards things I should care about and anxiety, which has peaked to levels it's only been at before when I was pregnant and hormonally crazy. I didn't know why it was, but it was scary. Really scary. To the point where I was scared to leave my house. I went to a new doctor who determined that one of my meds was all wrong for me, and the other had simply run its course after 11 years. Stopping both of these cold turkey and starting two new meds in the same week my final book revisions were due sent my anxiety levels through the roof. I was certain the med changes would make me sicker than a dog, despite the doctor's insistence it would not. He told me to be optimistic. My mom told me to have faith. I tried both, and learned a great lesson in trusting in the Lord and in doctors. I was mildly nauseous and a little drugged-feeling for about a week, but nothing I couldn't handle. And I finished my book, days before schedule.
Throughout all of this, which is and always has been (and will undoubtedly always be) MY trial in life, I have been repeatedly humbled to witness the trials that others are going through. I know everyone has their own trials, and something that can seem minor to one person can be another person's Gethsemene, so to speak. I truly, truly believe this. But I also believe that there are some people in this world whose trials are more than anyone should ever have to bear, more than what most people could ever dream of handling. And as I hear of their suffering, I realize the only term to describe the way I feel is "heavy-hearted." When I think of these precious spirits going through these nightmarish physical ordeals, and the pain and anguish their loved ones must endure watching them go through it and having no knowledge of what the future may bring, I feel a pit in my stomach and a weight in my chest that I know is but a fraction of what they are feeling.
It makes me feel guilty, for spending so much time lamenting my own problems, so minor in comparison. It makes me grateful, that I do not have to go through such a baptism by fire. It makes me grateful for the perspective it provides, for the slap-in-the-face-get-over-yourself wake up call it gives me that I so badly needed. It makes me feel helpless and desperate feeling, that I can't do anything for them, and it makes me grateful, for once, to know that I'm not in control, something that has almost always caused me anxiety. It's these times when I NEED to know that someone much greater than me is in charge, and that through Him, it will all be alright.
I feel so blessed to have the knowledge that I have, and that those I know of that are suffering have it too. It is this, I know, that will get them through their trials, just like it will get me through mine.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
It's 1:00 am and I refuse to go to sleep. I don't know why I'm so backwards. During the day all I want to do is sleep. At night I hate the thought of shutting down. This time of night, when the house is all quiet and dark has become my favorite time of day. (Even though it's night). It's just me and my phone and a million things to look at, read, and write. Without the guilt of thinking I should be doing something else, cause, hello, it's 1:00 in the morning.
I have begun the countdown for school to begin. I love my kids but they are wearing me down emotionally, which wears me out physically, with their constant fighting. And I know when I say constant fighting you picture typical sibling bickering that happens periodically throughout the day. But no. When I say constant, I mean constant. As in all the time. As in they are literally incapable of talking nicely to each other, or even neutrally. I honestly believe it causes them physical pain to be nice to each other. And I reached my breaking point about a week ago. I've tried threats, grounding, guilt trips (you know, that it breaks my heart as a mother that my children hate each other. I may or may not have lied and told them I cry myself to sleep at night over it), sending them to their rooms, forcing them to give each other compliments, you name it. More often than not lately I come hide in my room and take a nap just so I don't have to listen to it for a couple hours. (oh yeah, I used that one, too: "It's your guys' fighting that makes me want to sleep all the time." I really thought that one would work. They hate it when I sleep. Apparently, they hate being nice to each other more.)
We are definitely in the lazy days of summer. After the chaotic whirlwind that was June and half of July, I've simply boycotted anything that requires me to do more than sit and play Angry Birds all day. My greatest accomplishment of the day today (who am I kidding, of the entire summer) was completing the game. Like, 100%, 3 stars on every possible level. You laugh, but I've been working on this for months! It wasn't easy. Is it sad that it's a toss-up between that and being published for the thing I'm most proud of?
Speaking of being published, did I mention I'm writing the book that never ends? "It just goes on and on and on." Not unlike the Energizer Bunny. New release date: April 2012.
For some time now I've noticed my typing on my little iPhone keyboard seems to have slowed down and I couldn't figure out why. I was worried I had some neurological disorder that was slowing my hand-eye coordination. But then I realized what it is, and it's even worse: I have a permanently flattened thumb pad. "Texting Thumb." I'm not even kidding. Before, my thumb could fly around my qwerty like nobody's business and hit every intended key dead on. (I've even won texting wars because of my super-human speed.) But now I have to go slower to make sure I hit the right key with my sausage finger. It totally makes me feel like Homer Simpson when he's trying to push the right button on the phone but he keeps hitting multiple buttons cause his finger's too fat. That's me and my iPhone thumb. So sad.
Which, by the way, is starting to go numb, so I'm gonna call it a night and try to do that thing you do at night called sleep.
Over and out.
I have begun the countdown for school to begin. I love my kids but they are wearing me down emotionally, which wears me out physically, with their constant fighting. And I know when I say constant fighting you picture typical sibling bickering that happens periodically throughout the day. But no. When I say constant, I mean constant. As in all the time. As in they are literally incapable of talking nicely to each other, or even neutrally. I honestly believe it causes them physical pain to be nice to each other. And I reached my breaking point about a week ago. I've tried threats, grounding, guilt trips (you know, that it breaks my heart as a mother that my children hate each other. I may or may not have lied and told them I cry myself to sleep at night over it), sending them to their rooms, forcing them to give each other compliments, you name it. More often than not lately I come hide in my room and take a nap just so I don't have to listen to it for a couple hours. (oh yeah, I used that one, too: "It's your guys' fighting that makes me want to sleep all the time." I really thought that one would work. They hate it when I sleep. Apparently, they hate being nice to each other more.)
We are definitely in the lazy days of summer. After the chaotic whirlwind that was June and half of July, I've simply boycotted anything that requires me to do more than sit and play Angry Birds all day. My greatest accomplishment of the day today (who am I kidding, of the entire summer) was completing the game. Like, 100%, 3 stars on every possible level. You laugh, but I've been working on this for months! It wasn't easy. Is it sad that it's a toss-up between that and being published for the thing I'm most proud of?
Speaking of being published, did I mention I'm writing the book that never ends? "It just goes on and on and on." Not unlike the Energizer Bunny. New release date: April 2012.
For some time now I've noticed my typing on my little iPhone keyboard seems to have slowed down and I couldn't figure out why. I was worried I had some neurological disorder that was slowing my hand-eye coordination. But then I realized what it is, and it's even worse: I have a permanently flattened thumb pad. "Texting Thumb." I'm not even kidding. Before, my thumb could fly around my qwerty like nobody's business and hit every intended key dead on. (I've even won texting wars because of my super-human speed.) But now I have to go slower to make sure I hit the right key with my sausage finger. It totally makes me feel like Homer Simpson when he's trying to push the right button on the phone but he keeps hitting multiple buttons cause his finger's too fat. That's me and my iPhone thumb. So sad.
Which, by the way, is starting to go numb, so I'm gonna call it a night and try to do that thing you do at night called sleep.
Over and out.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Mas Pasteles
I came to put on the cakes I've done since the last time I blogged about them and couldn't believe how many I'd done since then. Wow. So here they all are, in no specific order. Sorry to all of you have seen them already on Facebook. Feel free to avert your eyes if you have.
Sombrero Cake

This cake was for a friend who loves all things Mexican. He was turning 30 and his wife requested a sombrero cake. This cake also happened to coincide with my book deadline, so my sweet husband jumped in and baked all the cakes (8 of them) and carved the sombrero. Then he helped me cover the base in fondant as the Mexican flag and I took it from there. The maracas are fondant and the words are piped out of buttercream.
My daughter was turning 10 and loves turquoise, and the colors that make up turquoise. I saw a cake similar to this on a YouTube video and knew it was the one for her. It is still one of my favorite cakes ever. The top says Happy Birthday, done with my Cricut Cake, and that's wire sticking out of the top with little balls of fondant on them.
Pool Party Cupcakes
My sister-in-law had me do these for my nephew's 5th grade graduation pool party. They were so fun, my first cupcake order. All the toppers are fondant, sitting on buttercream. Pretty self-explanatory.
This was my very first official order ever, by a friend from high school for her son's 7th birthday party, a pirate theme. It's by far the most elaborate cake I've ever made. It even has a wooden infrastructure made my my sweet hubby. I could never have made it otherwise. The entire chest is cake (other than the wooden support), covered in hand-painted fondant and filled with chocolate coins, ring pops, and plastic necklaces because I wasn't about to make them. The "sand" is crushed Nilla Wafers and the map is gum paste.
Pool Table Cake
This was also an order from a friend from high school, for her dad's 60th birthday party. This cake was my closest Cake Wreck ever, but--again--thanks to my hubby, I managed to pull it off. (Fifteen minutes before it was due at the party I had a bare, frosted cake still.) For being the near-disaster that it was, I'm pretty proud of my little pool table cake.
BYU "Y" Cake
This was for my 14 year old nephew who loves basketball, loves BYU, but doesn't love fondant. His mother requested a simple, buttercream one-tier cake with a fondant Y. Very easy. He loved it. He even had a tiny piece, even though he doesn't eat sugar. Now that's a compliment!
Soccer Cake
This was an order for a 10 year old girl's birthday who lives for soccer. She wanted a hot pink and purple three-tiered cake with a soccer ball, her name, and a 10 on it. I think I did a pretty good job of realizing her vision. The soccer ball was a first for me, and a huge challenge, but now it's one more thing I can add to my list of things I can do.
Payson's Pool Cake
This cake just makes me smile. It was for my son's 8th birthday party, a pool party. He drew me a picture of what he wanted, that, if I'm being honest, didn't look anything like this does. But he loved it anyway, even sans sharks. All the decorations are fondant, except for the slide and diving board, which are gum paste, and the water, which is buttercream.
This was a very last-minute order for a boy's 16th surprise party. He desperately wanted a MacBook (a real one), and that's what his mom wanted for his cake. It. Was. Tricky, and I was disappointed that I couldn't make it silver like she wanted (if ANYONE knows where I can find a silver spray or powder that doesn't smell like death and actually turns things silver, PLEASE!! Let me know!) but she said white was okay too. The desk and Mac are both cake covered in fondant, (the desk hand-painted to look like wood), the Stick-It note and pen fondant, the writing done with a food coloring marker.
Thanks for looking!
Sombrero Cake
This cake was for a friend who loves all things Mexican. He was turning 30 and his wife requested a sombrero cake. This cake also happened to coincide with my book deadline, so my sweet husband jumped in and baked all the cakes (8 of them) and carved the sombrero. Then he helped me cover the base in fondant as the Mexican flag and I took it from there. The maracas are fondant and the words are piped out of buttercream.
Macy's Birthday Cake
My daughter was turning 10 and loves turquoise, and the colors that make up turquoise. I saw a cake similar to this on a YouTube video and knew it was the one for her. It is still one of my favorite cakes ever. The top says Happy Birthday, done with my Cricut Cake, and that's wire sticking out of the top with little balls of fondant on them.Pool Party Cupcakes
Treasure Chest Cake
Pool Table Cake
BYU "Y" Cake
Soccer Cake
Payson's Pool Cake
MacBook Pro Cake
Thanks for looking!
Monday, June 27, 2011
How do you spell stress? D-E-A-D-L-I-N-E.
If I don't have an ulcer by mid July I'll be shocked. I have tried so hard not to make a big deal about it, or talk about it to anyone, because a) everyone bent over backwards for my last deadline to help me so much, and I do NOT want anyone feeling like they need to do anything again, and b) because it's my own stupid fault for being such an idiotic procrastinator. But I'm on the precipice of another breakdown much like the one I had a few weeks before my last deadline and the only way I can think of to untie some of the knots that have been multiplying in my stomach is to just put it out there.
I'M OUT OF MY MIND STRESSED ABOUT THE UPCOMING WEEK.
There. One knot down, 48,611 to go.
Another reason why I can't complain? Because most of my stress centers around the fact that my cake side business has suddenly decided to take off. I've waited a year for people to want to hire me to make cakes for them and now it's finally happening--at the exact time I need to be focusing on my book. Exciting? Yes. Horrible timing? Double yes. The universe laughing at me? Absolutely. Of course, had I started working on the edits/additions to my book over a month ago when I first knew about it, I wouldn't be in this crappy position. But, between the end of the school year, Cub Scout Day Camp, and, oh yeah, CAKES, life just didn't offer up a whole lot of time for writing. Now, six weeks after typing The End (figuratively, not literally), I sit down to the computer and think, "What was my story about again?" It's like I've subconsciously blocked it all out, like my brain was traumatized by a novel-writing overload and now shies away from it as a defense mechanism. Just give me one more week, brain. One teeny tiny little week. That's all I ask.
One bright spot on my black canvas of doom? My cover. I saw it. And it is a-mazing. Amazing doesn't even cut it. It's pretty much the best cover in the known world. Honestly, I'm a little worried it trumps my story. At least it'll get people to buy it. But seriously, it thrills me to no end and any time throughout the day that I need a quick pick-me-up (so, hourly), I just look at my cover and life gets awesome.
Are you done listening to me whine and complain about all my dreams coming true at once? Me too. I'm going to bed.
If I don't have an ulcer by mid July I'll be shocked. I have tried so hard not to make a big deal about it, or talk about it to anyone, because a) everyone bent over backwards for my last deadline to help me so much, and I do NOT want anyone feeling like they need to do anything again, and b) because it's my own stupid fault for being such an idiotic procrastinator. But I'm on the precipice of another breakdown much like the one I had a few weeks before my last deadline and the only way I can think of to untie some of the knots that have been multiplying in my stomach is to just put it out there.
I'M OUT OF MY MIND STRESSED ABOUT THE UPCOMING WEEK.
There. One knot down, 48,611 to go.
Another reason why I can't complain? Because most of my stress centers around the fact that my cake side business has suddenly decided to take off. I've waited a year for people to want to hire me to make cakes for them and now it's finally happening--at the exact time I need to be focusing on my book. Exciting? Yes. Horrible timing? Double yes. The universe laughing at me? Absolutely. Of course, had I started working on the edits/additions to my book over a month ago when I first knew about it, I wouldn't be in this crappy position. But, between the end of the school year, Cub Scout Day Camp, and, oh yeah, CAKES, life just didn't offer up a whole lot of time for writing. Now, six weeks after typing The End (figuratively, not literally), I sit down to the computer and think, "What was my story about again?" It's like I've subconsciously blocked it all out, like my brain was traumatized by a novel-writing overload and now shies away from it as a defense mechanism. Just give me one more week, brain. One teeny tiny little week. That's all I ask.
One bright spot on my black canvas of doom? My cover. I saw it. And it is a-mazing. Amazing doesn't even cut it. It's pretty much the best cover in the known world. Honestly, I'm a little worried it trumps my story. At least it'll get people to buy it. But seriously, it thrills me to no end and any time throughout the day that I need a quick pick-me-up (so, hourly), I just look at my cover and life gets awesome.
Are you done listening to me whine and complain about all my dreams coming true at once? Me too. I'm going to bed.
Monday, June 6, 2011
180
No offense, but I'm loving this no comments thing. I wanted to post tonight and normally I'd think, no, it's too soon after my last post, people will think it's weird, or I'll get almost no comments cause they're too close together. But it doesn't matter, cause I won't get comments at all, and I won't worry about who might think it's weird cause I have no way of knowing who's reading! Ah, it's so freeing! Of course, I'll be honest about missing your comments that can't be made, but recent studies show the probability of comments being made if I allowed them again is very unlikely. However, I have devised an ingenious solution to the problem I've created for that small percentage of readers who might suddenly be overcome with the feeling that they just have to say something. Email! Crazy, right? Just put the title of the post in the subject line and make your comment. Viola! C'est facile! Oh, and my email address, if you don't already have it, is up in the righthand corner under "email." Ah, see that? C'est logique! (don't ask, I don't know why the French). It's a win-win situation for all! I'm not a slave to my comment box, and you don't have to feel like you have to comment, or don't feel bad when you don't. On the other hand, I still get to hear from someone who really, truly has something they want to say, and they get to say it! Everybody's happy. And isn't that the point? To find happiness?
As always I've got waaay off topic and am already sure I've sounded like a babbling idiot at some point during this post. But I think I'm okay with that.
In the next year my life is going to take a complete 180. I am going to be thrown into the social mosh pit against my will and everything else inside me. Either my book is going to be a success, and I'll be doing interviews and book signings and such, or it won't be a hit but everyone who's ever known me will read it and want to talk to me about it. The 180 will occur when I am on that side of the social barrier, out in the world, talking, being social, as opposed to where I am now--this side, the sit at home alone all day in my silent house, the phone ringing maybe twice at best, texting instead of calling if at all possible to avoid human interaction side.
I'm a hermit. I'm totally already on my way to becoming the typical eccentric, shut-in writer. It gets worse and worse for me and I know I need to change. I'm going to be forced to change, as soon as my book comes out! We'll see what happens I guess. I think I may need a life coach to prepare me for this. Anyone up for the task? I guess I should clarify life coach/personal trainer. Let me know if you need a project! (by email, of course!)
As always I've got waaay off topic and am already sure I've sounded like a babbling idiot at some point during this post. But I think I'm okay with that.
In the next year my life is going to take a complete 180. I am going to be thrown into the social mosh pit against my will and everything else inside me. Either my book is going to be a success, and I'll be doing interviews and book signings and such, or it won't be a hit but everyone who's ever known me will read it and want to talk to me about it. The 180 will occur when I am on that side of the social barrier, out in the world, talking, being social, as opposed to where I am now--this side, the sit at home alone all day in my silent house, the phone ringing maybe twice at best, texting instead of calling if at all possible to avoid human interaction side.
I'm a hermit. I'm totally already on my way to becoming the typical eccentric, shut-in writer. It gets worse and worse for me and I know I need to change. I'm going to be forced to change, as soon as my book comes out! We'll see what happens I guess. I think I may need a life coach to prepare me for this. Anyone up for the task? I guess I should clarify life coach/personal trainer. Let me know if you need a project! (by email, of course!)
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Anonymous
I'm in a slump. I think it's the combination of coming down from the high of finishing my book and being down with a head cold all week. At first I was pretty miserable and slept the days away but now I'm not sick enough to justify being in bed all day, but still feel lousy, which is just making me irritable. I'm ready to rejoin the outside world again.
As for my book, well, it's not really finished. Yeah, I wrote to the end and sent it in but now I'm supposed to be adding to it and changing parts and basically...I haven't. I've sat down a couple times and tried, but I think I made the mistake of giving myself a couple weeks off from writing after my deadline, and now I can't seem to get back into the groove. I know I will, obviously. As soon as my head stops pounding and I stop coughing and my sinuses actually do explode from the pressure building up...then I'll write.
I've been thinking about change and how much I hate it. I always have. Small change is good, things that don't really matter in the whole big scheme of things; things like finally, after almost eleven years of marriage, getting new (to us), beautiful furniture in our family room. Things like that are good change, the kind that makes waking up the next day a little more exciting. But big change...I hate it. I know they say change is good, blah blah blah. And obviously there are times big changes are good. But I have a hard time dealing with it, no matter what it is. Especially if it's not so good, and especially if it deals with relationships. I hate changing relationships. Hate them, hate them, hate them. Why can't people and relationships just stay the same? It hurts too much when they change, a kind of hurt my poor heart can't handle. And before you go freaking out that my marriage is in jeopardy or I'm currently in the middle of some crazy friendship drama...don't. I'm just reflecting on life. Because when you're laid up in bed and staring at the same four walls for four days, you think about things. Not that it matters, I'm pretty sure no one reads this anymore, which kind of suits me. My dream has always been to start an anonymous blog and just throw it out there in cyberspace and see who finds it, people who don't know me at all in real life. Then I can say whatever I want without the awkwardness of people coming up to me later to ask about it. It's kind of how I've felt lately anyway. Anonymous.
Anyway, now that I've thoroughly depressed you all (all two of you who might be reading this), I'm off to play some more Angry Birds. Sadly, I'm very close to achieving 3 stars on every single level. Heaven, help me.
As for my book, well, it's not really finished. Yeah, I wrote to the end and sent it in but now I'm supposed to be adding to it and changing parts and basically...I haven't. I've sat down a couple times and tried, but I think I made the mistake of giving myself a couple weeks off from writing after my deadline, and now I can't seem to get back into the groove. I know I will, obviously. As soon as my head stops pounding and I stop coughing and my sinuses actually do explode from the pressure building up...then I'll write.
I've been thinking about change and how much I hate it. I always have. Small change is good, things that don't really matter in the whole big scheme of things; things like finally, after almost eleven years of marriage, getting new (to us), beautiful furniture in our family room. Things like that are good change, the kind that makes waking up the next day a little more exciting. But big change...I hate it. I know they say change is good, blah blah blah. And obviously there are times big changes are good. But I have a hard time dealing with it, no matter what it is. Especially if it's not so good, and especially if it deals with relationships. I hate changing relationships. Hate them, hate them, hate them. Why can't people and relationships just stay the same? It hurts too much when they change, a kind of hurt my poor heart can't handle. And before you go freaking out that my marriage is in jeopardy or I'm currently in the middle of some crazy friendship drama...don't. I'm just reflecting on life. Because when you're laid up in bed and staring at the same four walls for four days, you think about things. Not that it matters, I'm pretty sure no one reads this anymore, which kind of suits me. My dream has always been to start an anonymous blog and just throw it out there in cyberspace and see who finds it, people who don't know me at all in real life. Then I can say whatever I want without the awkwardness of people coming up to me later to ask about it. It's kind of how I've felt lately anyway. Anonymous.
Anyway, now that I've thoroughly depressed you all (all two of you who might be reading this), I'm off to play some more Angry Birds. Sadly, I'm very close to achieving 3 stars on every single level. Heaven, help me.
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