Dishwasher Part 2

 Sunday night I decide that Family Home Evening on Monday would be shopping for a new dishwasher. I headed over to Lowe's with the pictures cued up on my phone. Beck and I looked for the model numbers of the dishwashers in question. We collected a nice young salesman who knew nothing about dishwashers. One of the models was on the showroom floor and within $30 of the price my mom had found. It fit the budget and I trusted her research. 

"I'll take this one," I said. 

Next to each sign in the dishwasher section was a sign that said $199 for installation. It was steep. The machine didn't even cost $600. But I'm a single mom. I knew my brother-in-law was particularly busy right now. So I decided I'd pay for the installation. 

The young man took us to the register and then left to to double check if they had the machine I wanted in stock. After 15 or so minutes he returned with good news. He had the machine, I added the necessary hoses and things for another $30. 

"Do you want it installed?" the young salesman asked. 

"Yes," I said with conviction trying not to bat an eye at the price. 

"And do you want the old one hauled away?"

"Of course." 

"That's $50." 

Here I panicked just a bit. I knew the install was $200, the haul away better not cost ANOTHER $50. The rate was steep enough I figured that should be included.  

Photo credit: Lowes.com

"The install says it's $200," I told the young man. "Doesn't that including hauling the old one away?"

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "No. It's not that much. As you can see here, the haul away is $50 and the install...." He typed a bit and made his selection. "...is $29."

I couldn't believe my good fortune! Here I'd thought the install was $199 and for just $79 I'd get my dishwasher installed AND the old one would be hauled away. 

"Really?" I challenged. The salesman tilted the screen toward me. There it was on my order, just $79 for everything. "That's great!" My enthusiasm was growing. 

And the news just kept getting better. "When do you want it installed?" the salesman asked. I have times on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday or Saturday. I was blown away. I could get it installed on Wednesday? It was Monday and I'd only need to wait two days and I'd have my dishwasher. 

"You can really do this Wednesday?" I said incredulously. He tilted his screen. There it was 8am to 8pm, a Wednesday delivery. "I'll take Wednesday!"

I was ecstatic. The installation was less than half of the expected price and I'd have my machine in my home ready to go in just two days!

A Rose by Any Other Name

 Shakespeare famously wrote, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." I've been thinking a lot lately about what's in a name. What value. For over 26 years now, I've been Jenna Wood. But I am thinking about and preparing to change my name back to Jenna Harris. 

I love the Wood family and have wanted to be careful not to hurt them. I miss them and wish I could see them more often. But here's the thing. My former spouse is engaged and his fiancée's name starts with a J. And it suddenly seems too much--like I could get mixed up with her. It will be weird to say the name I only had for 21 years again. 

I remember when I got married, I was so angry at my parents and I was glad to be rid of Harris. But now, those are the people who have stood by me through thick and thin. It's my original name and I'm eager to reclaim it. 

Will I be the same person? 

In one sense I will and in one sense I won't. And I'm eager to try it out. I hope it feels like peace and comfort and coming home. But I also know it will feel a little like loss. I've coped with so much loss already, I think it might be time to step into the loss and see if there isn't a little growth on the other side. 

In preparation for my name change, I've changed the name of the blog. Introducing, Jenna's Jots, the perfect title to go with any last name. 

Dishwasher Part 1

 Something like nine years ago, we redid our kitchen, main bathroom and living room. When we did this, we got new appliances. One was a stainless steel dishwasher my spouse (now former spouse) picked up for song. He had to drive 40 minutes up and down a mountain canyon, but he got a dishwasher for something like $250. It was insanely cheap even at the time. 

He installed the dishwasher even running to the store to get additional parts. Then we ran it. And the dishes came out dirty. "We can't keep this," I remember tell him. "It has to be returned." But it was installed, the canyon, etc. all made Wendell unwilling to return the dishwasher. So for nine, long years I've dealt with a dishwasher that does not clean the dishes. Several things had broken down over the years and Wendell dutifully replaced the upper washer arm and the door that held the soap. But after he'd moved out, the dishwasher started breaking down again. Nearly half of the bottom rack would not clean anything. An error message was a permeant part of the display. 

One of the things my former spouse was good at, is researching quality appliances. But so is my mom. I had neither the time nor the interest in doing the necessary research and delegated this responsibility to her. My mom happily took up the task and as the spots in the dishwasher that did not clean grew, my mom texted me the results. She had three machines she recommended. All could be purchased at a local home improvement store for somewhere between $550 and $800. 

In the final straw, the dishwasher began leaking.  It's final Sunday a pretty good sized puddle got the attention of our young cat, Smokey. Getting his attention, drew my attention. At that point the dishwasher was turned off and became an expensive drying rack. It was time to go shopping. 

Expect the Best; Plan for the Worst

 I've thought a lot recently about how we teach children about marriage. Marriage is a huge focus for Latter-day Saints. But I think we fall prey to several of false teachings about marriage. 

1) There is a timeline. 

2) Once you're married you live happily ever after. 

3) Your spouse will never change.

4) Even if there are major problems, you should stay married because you made a commitment. 

First, there is no timeline. You have not failed if you're not married in your twenties. God's timing is the best timing and that timing is not the same for everyone. What is important is finding someone with great character, loyalty, and values. 

When I was in Young Women's we were taught to write a list of what we wanted in a spouse including height, hair color, etc. Physical characteristics don't matter. What does matter is shared values, conscientiousness, kindness, and how they make you feel.  It is far, far better to spend time finding the right person, dating them for long enough that you feel like they're well vetted and then marry. It's not a race and the youngest person to marry doesn't win. Take your time. Grow your own talents. Don't settle for less than you deserve. 

Second, let's talk about the Disney effect. As children we were told (or watched) a lot of stories where the romance ends with a marriage. It is assumed that everything after the marriage is happy and easy; the hard part is finding a spouse and getting married. It reminds me of the joke where a young bride says to her mother, "I'm at the end of all my troubles." 

"Yes, dear," says the mother. "But which end?" 

As anyone who has been married knows, marriage is a lot of work. It takes open communication, both partners being able to bring up and talk about hard things, and getting through a lot of the mundane day-to-day life, figuring out a division of labor, financial ups and downs, and more. Marriage can also be a lot of fun. You have inside jokes, you can delight and surprise one another, you have someone to snuggle, and in a good marriage, your spouse has your back. In the bible dictionary, it says, "Prayer is a form of work." So is marriage. It's worth it, but it's work. 

Third, all people change. Some couples have the good fortune that their spouse changes in the same direction they do. But not everyone has that good fortune. In the church, people often say, "Marrying my spouse was the best decision I ever made." But what they mean is, "I've had the good fortune that my spouse and I have changed in ways where we still have the same values." 

My former spouse was living a double life. It was his lying and deception (and putting my life at risk) that ended our marriage. I can also tell you that the young man who stepped off the plane from Brazil in December of 1996 would never have done the things that the man I divorced did. The man I divorced was not in any way the man I married. He changed overtime in a totally different direction. 

Fourth, no one should have to stay in a bad marriage. This is the part of our lessons that are the most lacking as members of The Church of Jesus Christ. We need to expect the best, but plan for the worst. We will often talk in financial classes about preparing for the death of a spouse, but we need to be equally ready for divorce. Just like I talked about in my last post about knowing our dealbreakers, we should be prepared in the event that dealbreakers surface. 

Every woman should have a savings account in her name only. It should hold no less than half of the family's savings. She should complete her education and keep a toe in her chosen field so that if she needs to she can immediately go back to work full time. She should have a credit card in her name. 

I'll tell you that for me, doing these things made me feel more secure in my marriage, not less. When I went back to school for my Master's degree, I knew that I had a path out if I needed it and staying in my marriage was a choice. Simultaneously, when I learned of my husband's poor decisions, I was in a position to immediately leave.  He moved out Feb 17, 2022. On Feb 13, 2023, less than a year later,  I had a Master's degree and good job. 

Marriage Is Conditional

 I get it. We think of love as unconditional. Or maybe we think it *should* be unconditional. I've certainly read many a Christian counseling blog arguing that marital love should be unconditional. But I think that's wrong. 

Just imagine your beloved murdered someone. It's probably hard, because you can't fathom them doing it. But stretch yourself. If your spouse murdered someone in cold blood, would you stay? Or is that the condition that ends the marriage? 

The reality is, marriages have dealbreakers. They must. Murder; sexual abuse; physical abuse; theft and other criminal acts; anything that harms a child. But I'm betting that's not all. What about financial abuse? What about emotional abuse? Adultery? Serial adultery? Creating a double life? 

These are all kinda no-brainers. 

I've known a couple of women who found out their husbands were consuming child pornography when they police showed up at their home and arrested their spouse. One stayed with her husband. One divorced him. What do you think is better in that case? 

As Latter-day Saints, we generally don't talk about marriage being conditional. We're generally focused on marriage being eternal. And eternal marriage is 100% the goal. But on earth we have to be grounded in having conditions and knowing what our dealbreakers are. 

One that has always existed for me, is religion. My testimony of Jesus Christ and my belief in his Gospel is the single most important thing in my life. And I knew that if I had a spouse that walked away from formerly shared religious beliefs, I'd walk away from him. 

In 2010 my marriage was in deep trouble. I was desperately depressed and I was trying to keep all that I was going through a secret in an unhealthy twist of what I would have called loyalty. It was the hardest summer of my life. It was during this time, I read an article by Boyd K Packer called, Finding Ourselves in Lehi's Dream. In this article President Packer shares the following story.

"I think now and then of one of our classmates—very bright, good looking, faithful in the Church, and drenched with talent and ability. He married well and rose quickly to prominence. He began to compromise to please the world and those around him. They flattered him into following after their ways, which were the ways of the world.... Somewhere in little things, my classmate’s grasp on the iron rod loosened a bit. His wife held on to the rod with one hand and on to him with the other. Finally, he slipped away from her and let go of the rod. Just as Lehi’s dream or vision predicted, he fell away into forbidden paths and was lost."

I remember reading these lines over and over. "His wife held on to the rod with one hand and on to him with the other. Finally, he slipped away from her and let go of the rod." I could picture this in my minds eye. The two of them walking along the covenant path together, holding on to each other and holding on to the iron rod. And I could see him being pulled by the things of the world. The husband letting go of the iron rod, but still holding on to his wife. And he began to walk away. In this vision, her hand remains fixed and solid on the iron rod, but as he leaves the path and walks toward darkness, he begins to pull. Eventually she's in a massive tug of war between the iron rod and her husband. She's being stretched painfully and has to choose. Reluctantly, she lets go of her husband's hand and presses forward toward God without him. Meanwhile he turns his back on both her and God and wanders into "forbidden paths." 

This was one of the greatest reliefs of anything I'd ever read by an apostle. He acknowledged a dealbreaker. There was no condemnation for the faithful wife. In fact, to me, it felt like permission to get divorced. It seemed like it outlined the correct path--the best thing to do in a situation like this. 

I've thought of this story 100 times. I compared it to my life. I watched for dealbreakers and collected puzzle pieces--random bits of information that didn't fit into what I knew about my spouse. When my world blew up, the puzzle fell into place and I knew it was time to go and that it was ok to go. 

I Chose Me

 I've be browsing around my blog looking at old posts and I found one called Choosing Me. It was late 2014--eight and half years ago--and I lamented that I felt a press to do something bigger with my life. I wanted to go to grad school. I wanted to get a job. I wanted to pursue my dreams. 

Looking back, I think God was nudging me. I was in what would ultimately been the best years of my marriage. But they didn't last. Certainly by 2016 I was seeing behaviors in my spouse that I knew had been trouble for us in years past. I knew would be trouble for us in the future. I begged him to prioritize things of the spirit, our family, our marital relationship. But he'd gotten comfortably complacent--something that anyone with an addictive personality cannot do. 

And the press from God came stronger. I started prepping for the GRE. I researched grad schools. I took the GRE. I applied for grad school. I was accepted. I plowed through course work. I got excited about my thesis. And one day after another, I chose me. 

And all the things I worried about did not happen. The kids stepped up and did the dishes. The house was often not tidy and no one died of it. My spouse took over laundry and grocery shopping. And I took time for me. 

In Feb 2022 when my life blew up and I stood among the shattered pieces. I was not the woman of 2014. I was stronger. I was in graduate school. I had finished my course work. I could see the end of the tunnel on my thesis. I had put money in savings in my name only for such an occasion as this. 

Even when my spouse (figuratively) lit a bomb to our family life and home, I was in a place where I could take the kids by the hands and walk away. Rebuild. The bomb going off did waylay by graduation, postponing it at least a semester. But graduate I did. Just over two months afterward, I had a job that is a perfect fit and I'm so happy about. 

God had prepared me for this. He could see this coming. He warned me. And I wasn't stuck. I was as ready as I could be. So when God said it was time to go--that I should get to safety--I could go. 

I will forever be grateful that I listened to that nagging. That I took action. When I learned my spouse no longer cared about my health or my life, I loved myself enough to move to safety. I cared about me. I loved me. I would protect me. 

Having followed God's promptings, I was prepared to walk away. I'm so grateful that God loved me enough to help me choose me. And I'm grateful I acted on those feelings and chose me. 

Surreal

 Part of my life feels like I'm living in the Twilight Zone. Strange. Fictional. And yet, there's a beauty to my current life that was missing in my previous one. 

I recently read through my Jan 2021 blog post about my sleep goal. And how proud I was to get to sleep at 11:30pm for most of January. I will tell you that the goal didn't hold. By the end of 2021 I was going to bed at midnight on the regular. And Wendell continued to resist to visit with me. That's not why we got divorced, but it's interesting that it was a symptom of much deeper problems that I felt, but could never put my finger on. Until my world was upended in February 2022 with news that shocked me to the core. Shocked the kids. I had thought I knew who my husband was. Turns out, I didn't know him at all--a strange thing to say after 25 years of marriage.

And thus the Twilight Zone sensation. 

What's interesting is how different my life is now. Here's a few things that are notably different. 

1) I go to bed before 11:00pm every night. It's very, very rare for me to be up that late. 

2) I rarely watch TV. That was Wendell's thing and so it was our thing to do together. I have always thought of it as pretty lame. Now that I don't feel pressure to watch TV, I don't. 

3) My house is in order. I didn't put it in order by myself. With the help of my ministering sisters and another dear friend, we got my bedroom, living room, and kitchen in order (in that order). My room remains tidy. My living room remains tidy. My kitchen ebbs and flows a little more, but it's been remarkable. 

I am a huge subscriber of the thought that you have to throw things out/give away things in order to really tidy up. And all of a sudden, I'm the only decision maker. I don't have to run anything past anyone. I just decide. 

This one is particularly strange to me. If you'd sat Wendell and me down in January and asked why our house was a mess, we would have both said that it was me. I was the reason our house wasn't in order. This was my personal failing. And yet, once things are set in order, I'm easily keeping them that way. And I don't know why this is so easy. But it is. And I wonder if that limiting belief--that I couldn't keep a tidy home--was ever mine. Or if it's just something I picked up and it wasn't true. I've believed it for 25 years. But I have so much evidence already that it is false. 

4) I'm getting the best sleep of my life. Literally why do we share beds/bedrooms with spouses? It is complete bliss to never be awakened in my sleep by someone snoring, rolling over, getting bumped or kicked. I don't worry when I make my 4:00am bathroom run. I never have to worry about the covers (am I sharing, is he too hot or too cold, will I get blamed in the morning). It is amazing. Everyone should try it. 

5) I am making tough decisions, fixing household items and learning to reach out to new resources all by myself. It's interesting how when a spouse has certain limiting thoughts about you, that over time you adopt those thoughts. I can't drive on road trips. I can't fix household things. I can't keep a tidy home. None of these started with me. I wasn't raised this way. But over time I believed each of these things with intense surety. They were all false. I have within me the ability to do anything I need to. 

Just the other day, the kids were at school and I walked around my house amazed at how tidy everything was. Everything has a place. It feels like I'm living someone else's life. Yet it's mine. My beautiful life. I didn't even know it was possible. 

New Family

 In February, my life was completely upended. Literally, it felt like being upside down. I couldn't breathe.  I just walked around with my hand over my heart, tapping it periodically, to try to keep me breathing. Wendell moved out on February 17 and by the 18th we had jointly decided to divorce. 

The last two months have been among the hardest of my life. But I'm slowly getting my bearings. I have taken over tons of things that used to be "Wendell's job" including some that would surprise him that they were "his" job. But I'm getting rather proud of the things I've done by myself.

• Getting air in my tires
• Taking my car through a car wash
• Getting an oil change
• Getting new family pictures taken with just me and kids
• Buying a lovely, comfortable chair for my room
• Buying new decor for my room (thanks to my amazing sisters)
• Going out with friends on the weekends

I'm starting to feel happy by myself and even look forward to the life I can create on my own. I'm being stretched, which hurts, but I'm also learning. And I love learning. 

February's Theme | Movement

 February's theme was movement. This is one that I wanted to be very careful to be broad. In my Facebook post in my group I  wrote, "Remember our yearly theme is self-care.... You are not 'bad' if you miss moving or don't achieve your goal. Movement can be anything--exercise, stretching, yoga, parking further away, physical therapy, etc."

How did I do? 

In January, when my focus was sleep, I worked out (based on my app on my phone/watch) 11 times. Not bad! It was once for every three days. It was decent. In February, when my goal was movement, I worked out 16 times! This is a notable improvement. In fact, my first week, I worked out 5 times in a row. Since the pandemic I haven't felt comfortable working out in a gym, so I stuck to walks and using some beginner workout videos I bought in a program around Christmas. 

What I learned

I love that in my own group, I had to identify everything that counted as movement. This helped me mentally increase my flexibility. I think a lot of times, we don't give ourselves as much credit as we should. But this flexibility helped me give myself more credit.  There were a couple days that I just wasn't feeling it. Reminding myself that stretching counted got me downstairs with my exercise mat for 15 minutes of stretching.  How did I feel afterward? Much better.  Glad I'd done it. 

I was diagnosed with juvenile onset of rheumatoid arthritis when I was 10. It really started acting up when I was 14. And it continued almost unchecked in its destructive path until I started gold (a treatment given by injection) when I was 16. Still, I have flair ups, stiffness, good days and bad ones.  Though, since my late 20s, it just hasn't been as bad as it was when I was younger.  But I *must* have flexibility in my workouts. 

I've also learned that apps are stupid.  One day, I can go on a walk and my watch will give me credit for every step.  Other days it almost doesn't give me credit at all.  Seriously, yesterday I went on a walk and it gave me credit for 34 minutes of exercise. Today's 20 minute walk gave me one minute of credit.  One. Ridiculous. So I try to watch for other measures on the app as well. In the summary section, it gives me up or down arrows based on various measures: move goal (cal/day), average minutes exercised, stand hours, stand minutes, walking pace, and distance.  In January, move, exercise, and distance were all down arrows.  But after my efforts, move and exercise are both up and distance has improved by 0.1, even though it's still 0.1 off of my yearly average. 

These measures give me such calm even on days that I didn't get a workout. I may find that my move goal was higher than normal, or my exercise exceeded my current average or that elusive distance goal was above the norm.  Noting these successes help me stay focused on movement, which is ultimately the goal. 

We also jumped through several hoops to add a year membership to our current recreation center pass.  Our rec center has been closed for renovation and will finally be open March 20.  (I'll get my 2nd Covid vaccine on the 19th.) With two vaccines on board, I feel totally comfortable using the gym again. But because we'd paused our membership and were taking advantage of a sale, we had to have the rec center director help us.  It took a few phone calls and some effort, but I think this was a "movement" success too, because it's setting our whole family up for more movement for a year plus all in a wonderfully redone facility. 

January's Theme | Sleep

 My theme for January was sleep.  It's one way I've always really wanted to take care of myself, but I've resisted for a long time. My goal was to get ready for bed and start winding down around 10:30pm. Definitely no more TV shows or movies after that time.  The second part of the goal was lights out and in bed by 11:30 pm. 

The History

When my kids were small and physical demands were high, I would put myself to bed at a reasonable time. Each might as I climbed into bed, I had no idea how many times my sleep might be interrupted. So going to bed at 10 or 10:30pm was critical. 

But as the kids got older, and with a desire to visit more with my husband in the evening, I began staying up later. Before beginning my self-care journey, here was my modus operandi. The younger kids would go to bed between 9:30 and 10:00pm. I would stay upstairs with them, but Wendell would typically be in the basement watching sports or a cooking show by that time. 

Around 10, I'd head to the basement. Some nights Wendell would finish his show/game and I would scroll on my phone while we sat together. Other nights, I'd request a TV show we both wanted to watch and we'd watch Shark Tank, Relative Race, or Master Chef for an hour. If Wendell was watching a cooking show, he'd often finish it before we turned on our show.  Sometimes the kids didn't go to bed until 10:30pm.  In any event, starting an hour long TV program at 10:30pm became pretty normal.

Afterward, Wendell would always get promptly up and go upstairs and get ready for bed. But I wouldn't. Our master bathroom is small.  Really only one person can get ready for bed at a time.  I'd justify staying the basement.  Our basement is quite cool, so most of the year we bundle up in blankets when watching shows. Our couch is a recliner.  Sometimes, I would actually fall asleep on the recliner nestled in blankets. But something about the late night TV watching...the inertia just set in. It became a personal battle to get back upstairs. 

How did I do? 

January was amazing. I really did it!  Except for two nights I was in bed by 11:30pm.  The first few nights Wendell never thought I'd stick with it.  He headed to the basement for the usual 10-midnight TV session and was surprised when he came up and I was soundly sleeping.  But after that, he decided he wanted some sleep benefits too, and started coming to bed earlier. He has been incredibly grateful for this goal and pleased at how it helped both of us. 

What I learned

I tried reading in bed (leaning on an arm) for my evening wind-down. I loved the reading; hated the leaning. A couple of times, I tried sitting bolt upright in bed, but it didn't stick.  I haven't found the perfect wind-down routine. Despite that, I relentlessly put myself to bed at 11:30pm.  

I learned that while I'm functional on 7.5 hours of sleep, my body really prefers 8.  In fact, I learned that if I give myself 8 hours of sleep enough days in a row, I'll just start naturally waking up. (I learned that on a Sunday morning I was *going* to wake up at 8:00am and instead awoke at 7:00am feeling completely rested.) 

I really can't go to the basement.  My strategy to avoid the inertia problem has been to not go to the basement. My TV consumption has plummeted. Once I watched a movie with the kids and once with Wendell, both time starting at 9:00pm or earlier in the evening.  We were done with my movie by 10:30 or 11pm and I still had time to get to bed. 

I need to put my phone away.  When I'm tired, I just get into tired scrolling. I'm not engaging, just scrolling and I struggle to stop.  By putting my phone away and switching to a book, I'm able to close the book when I'm sleepy and go to bed. 

I had thought that going to bed early would have some downsides.  I correctly predicted that Wendell wouldn't immediately join me.  As an aside, we'd long been bemoaning, that with all of our adult kids up in the evenings we just didn't have us time--time to talk, about life, about the kids, about our day. On the days Wendell comes to bed with me, we actually recoup that time. So we've actually had a little better connection than we did before the change in bedtime. 

Most importantly, I've learned (and perhaps even proven to myself) that taking care of me is a valuable undertaking. 

A Year of Self-Care: The List

 We spent Monday night with a family activity geared toward goals, which gave me the perfect opportunity to organize my list and I'm so excited about my upcoming Year of Self-Care! Without further ado here are the twelve ways I'm going to nourish myself in 2021!

January: Sleep

February: Movement

March: Fruits and Veggies

April: Simple Pleasures

May: Feeling Full

June: Novelty

July: Flavor

August: Order

September: Quiet

October: Spirit

November: Emotions

December: Connection

In Happiness Project style, I will be tracking and writing about how I'm doing on my self-care odyssey.  The goal is to build month upon month. So I'm starting with sleep and the goal is that in October, November, December, sleep is still a priority. I'm hoping to make some of these thing habitual so that each month I can put the former month on autopilot and put my focus on the new way to take care of myself. 

What do you think about self-care? What would be on your list if you spent a year caring for yourself? 

A Year of Self-Care

 

I've been a fan of Gretchen Rubin and her Happiness Project from the moment the book made its way into my hands.  (Although, for my first read through, I was slightly less enthusiastic than I would later be largely because I was not having a very good year. Sorry, Gretchen.) 

Still, I've long been mesmerized by year-long projects and figured this would be the year to tackle one.  

My original ideas were based on satisfying cravings, but not the I've-got-to-get-a-milkshake-kind. The *real* kind.  Where your body or your spirit literally craves something it needs, but you're not giving it.  For me, the number one on my list: Sleep.

So I jotted down sleep and I also jotted other things that I crave, but often don't give myself (think adequate fruits and veggies, as much movement as makes me happy, etc.). Then I started to think about things that are emotional or spiritual in nature that I also crave and don't do as good a job at satisfying as I wish I did. I pulled Wendell into the decisioning making process volleying ideas back and forth and jotting down anything that rang true.  

In the end, I solidified a list of 12 "cravings".  But I hated the name cravings. Even though I CRAVE these things, it seems like a word that could be easily misunderstood. What else could describe satisfying all these itches, aches--these deep longings for what's really best for me? It hit me. Self-care.  This is self-care.  To take care of your deepest needs, the ones most likely to be over-looked: that's self-care. 

Thus a Year of Self-care was born. I haven't as yet organized which month will follow what, except for one thing. I'm starting with sleep. 

The Myth of Panic

While my thesis isn't complete (it's just really getting started), I have completed all my course work for a graduate degree in Sociology, so I hope you can grant me the leeway of calling myself a sociologist.   I spent an entire semester studying the sociology of disaster and as we've settled into the COVID way of life, I wish to give some sociological framework to our current state of disaster.

First, let me begin with disaster framework.  Disasters and myths are closely intertwined. One of the biggest myths when it comes to disasters is the myth of panic.  This myth is believed by public officials and perhaps by even the public generally. The myth is: when a disaster is approaching people will panic.  Once people panic, they will take irrational and unsafe steps and must be protected from themselves by giving them as little information as possible. 

The First Reaction: Disbelief

Overwhelmingly, in disaster research and accompanying sociological studies, not only do people not panic--they don't respond at all.

• Sirens warn of a flood, and a young father rolls over in bed ignoring the sound. (Arkansas River Flood of 1965)
• A woman asks a police officer what theater he's playing at after he's been yelling on the bullhorn that residents have 5-15 minutes to escape a fifteen foot high wall of water. (South Platte River Flood 1965)
• The radio station screams warnings of a dam break and 3-4 men, believing the warning is an overreaction, continue loading furniture and get caught in the torrent and drown. (Teton Dam Disaster 1976). 

Studies show that the initial reaction of the majority of the public in the face of disaster is "disbelief, denial and reinterpretation to reduce or eliminate the threat potential" (Drabek 2013:70). Like the woman asking the police officer what theater he's playing at, people have creative ways of trying to make sense of what is happening so that they do not have to believe that they are experiencing a disaster.

But people *do* panic at times, right?

The short answer is Yes. And No.  People will panic, but studies show that it takes a long time and is preceded by relatively calm, reasonable responses once there's an understanding that a disaster is taking place.  Renown disaster research, Henry Quarantelli, gives a three step process that leads to panic. 

Step 1: Individuals must have a perception of possible entrapment. 

Step 2: Individuals must sense powerlessness; there is nothing they can do to escape. 

Step 3: Individuals must have a feeling of social isolation of sole dependency upon themselves in a crisis. 

Any disaster can have one or more of these aspects, but only people who are experiencing all three panic. 

Someone who jumps from a top floor of a hotel in a fire is a perfect example. This person feels trapped, powerless, and they can only depend on themselves.  Only then do they panic and jump. 

Overcoming Disbelief

The key to correct responding to a disaster is working to overcome disbelief. What overcomes disbelief? Consistent correct information. 

Before Hurricane Katrina hit, there were many people who believed that New Orleans levees could not take the pounding and hold.  But this information was not widely circulated. In fact, the city was so caviler about the whole thing, that they day before it hit, the busses are still driving around on the regular routines.  All of those with the financial means to leave and a place to stay, left.  But instead of bussing the families of low-income neighborhoods--in the most risk for destruction--the busses were still just driving around as if everything was normal. There wasn't consistent correct information. 

In the Teton Dam disaster, which I studied at length, several days before the dam broke leaders knew they were in trouble.  The dam was made of earth and parts were caving in.  For days.  If they had overcome their own disbelief and evacuated the area beneath the dam, there would have been no fatalities. But they persisted in their disbelief.  The dam couldn't actually break, could it? One radio station had heard there were problems at the dam and the owner left his son in charge and drove over to look at the dam. When he got there, he was appalled at what he saw. He radioed (with a CB radio) his son and demanded to be put on the radio.  He began describing what he saw.  He ended up reporting the entire dam collapse giving families who were listening to his station precious time to pack up and get to higher ground. But there were two radio stations servicing the area. Those on the other station or those who checked the other station remained in disbelief.  If this was this big, wouldn't both stations be reporting it? For those who remained in disbelief, their warning became a knock on the door from someone at the sheriff's department telling them they had 5-10 minutes to escape.

Recent Application

A friend of a friend challenged me on the myth of panic by asserting, "Do you not remember the great toilet paper scare?" The empty grocery store shelves are not evidence of panic. It's evidence of preparation.  When people believe that a disaster is imminent, they want to take action.  It they do not have a clear consistent message about how to prepare, they will do something. 

If we apply this to COVID-19, we see (as we do in many disasters) a lack of leadership.  Evidence shows that leaders knew this was deadly, but publicly downplayed the seriousness.  This was supposed to help people not panic.  But people aren't stupid.  By the time President Trump is explaining the COVID-19 will  eventually just "go away," we were slammed with news stories from China on people being locked in their apartments for 50+ days.  So the people took action.  If I have to be locked in my house for 50+ days, what do I need? What would I most not like to run out of? Thus, the run on toilet paper. But this isn't evidence of a panic; it's evidence of action.  This is pretty clear-headed decision making given the information people had. 

In countries like Taiwan, where the people understood the importance of masks and they received very clear with instructions of what do, they weren't having runs on stores.  Clear concise information is the antidote. But you must--MUST--trust the people. 

Shake off the Rust

It's crazy to think that for the last year and half, I haven't so much as touched my blog.  On the one hand, it's completely understandable because life has been busy.  On the other hand it's sad because I need writing in my life.  It makes such a difference for me to write and write publicly.  I must admit that I feel rusty, not writing here for the last year and a half.  But I've had so many ideas swirling about what I want to write that it seems like I've got to get back in the groove.  For time's sake, here are some general life updates in the last 18 months.

• After one year as camp cook, I got called to be Camp Director. (If I put an emoji in here, it would be the one staring at you with giant eyeballs.) 
• I applied for Graduate School
• I got in!  
• I've finished my first semester at Sam Houston State University
• Emma graduated from high school.
• All the kids got older.
• Everyone's eyes are kind of holding their own. (Except my mom.  She was recently diagnosed with macular degeneration.) 
• My grandma, Carolyn Kirkwood, passed away in July. 

My graduate degree is in Sociology.  Sociology is similar to Anthropology or Behavioral Economics (Pro tip: it has nothing to do with social work) and is the study of human behavior.  I'm especially interested in Sociology of education, so I'm working on classes that would support that emphasis such as Sociology of Family, Community and Gender.  This semester I took my first research class and I've fallen completely in love.  I can't tell you how long I've ached to do this sort of research and I have so much that I'd like to share just from the first class. 

But for now, I'm here.  Moving around a little and, like the tin man on Wizard of Oz, I'm trying to oil my joints and get the rust off. 

Girls Camp

The summer of 1993 I sat by the fire at Camp Shalom and bore my testimony to the girls in my ward. I was about to start my senior year of high school.  It was one of those bitter-sweet moments. I was putting away things of my childhood and preparing to be an adult.

My love of girl's camp has never waned.  But time has passed.  I graduated from high school, started BYU, married, graduated, got a job, had kids.  I did a lot of things, but I never made it back to camp.  The call of camp became stronger as my oldest daughter Emma turned 12 and got to go.  Year by year she went to camp and came back with stories and memories and I ached to join her.  I dropped hints to the YW president and others that I would be game to go to camp.  But for naught.

It was now May of 2016.  Girls Camp was a mere 6 weeks away.  Emma is 17 and this would be her final year at camp.  A counselor in our bishopric, Lyle Snell, asked if I could have a quick meeting with him in the clerk's office.  Church was starting in 5 minutes.  My heart dropped. I've been serving in the Primary Presidency for over 3 years and at our January presidency meeting, Brother Snell reminded us that we don't get to keep callings forever.  Even callings we love. So it was with some trepidation that I entered that clerk's office.  I could only keep thinking about how much I was going to miss the Primary kids.

"I would like to extend a temporary calling," Brother Snell said.  I was surprised. I wasn't being released!  I told him as much.

"We would like to extend a calling to be camp cook."

My immediate reaction (which is likely not appropriate) was that I punched my fist in the air and yelled, "YES!"  Then it hit me that we shouldn't "fist pump" and yell when we get callings.  I covered my mouth.

"Sorry," I said.  "It's just I'm very excited for this calling."

Brother Snell smiled.

I returned to my seat in the chapel.  I grinned and waggled my eyebrows at Emma.  I didn't even have time to whisper tell anyone about the new assignment I was being given.  But when they called my name--much to Wendell's surprise--I think Emma fist pumped too.  I was going to camp!

Stay or Go

I just found this old post.  I think it's from April 2015.  Even though, I don't think the Duggars issues are relevant, I kinda like what I wrote about following God's will.  

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There's been a lot of talk on the social inter web about the Duggars.  But one post, in particular has really bothered me. (You can find it here.) See, in this post the author, whom I'll call "Jessica" (largely because it's her name), thinks that Anna Duggar is in the worst possible position she could be in.

Anna Duggar was crippled by her parents by receiving no education, having no work experience (or life experience, for that matter) and then was shackled to this loser because his family was famous in their religious circle. Anna Duggar was taught that her sole purpose in life, the most meaningful thing she could do, was to be chaste and proper, a devout wife, and a mother.

I'll get behind Jessica 100% that no post-high school is a problem.  The glory of God is intelligence and we have a responsibility to get as much education as we can.  But she's what, 27, at most? (Josh was born in 1988 and I doubt that Anna is older than Josh.) It's not like her life is over or she's somehow unable to get more education.  Would it have been better or certainly easier to get a degree immediately after high school?  No question.   But it's also ridiculous to throw our hands in the air at the plight of someone who has yet to crest 30. She has time.  She can definitely go get and education if she wants it or feels she needs it.

It's the next sentence that I have the biggest beef with.  "Anna Duggar was taught that her...the most meaningful thing she could do, was to be chaste and proper, a devout wife and mother." That's not a false teaching.  Even if being a wife and mother isn't her sole purpose, it's definitely the most meaningful. Why are we throwing motherhood under the bus?  Additionally, why are we tarnishing wife-hood and that of chastity while we're at it?  It is THE WEIRDEST way to talk out of both sides of your mouth, while on one hand shaming Josh for his affairs and on the other hinting that being a little less chaste might be more healthy for Jessica. It makes absolutely no sense.

Jessica goes on to state that Anna can't divorce because of her religious beliefs.  How does Jessica know?   Was there some sort of Duggar show on "no divorce."  Is it a common practice among Baptists to "blame" and "ostracize" divorcees? I couldn't begin to weigh in on her religious practices or beliefs, but I have a hard time believing that divorce would be off the table.  On the other hand, why is divorce our immediate go-to as a society?  I know people whose marriages have survived some pretty rough patches who are now saying, "Oh yeah! Anna should leave him!" And if she stays, there's a tongue-clicking, head-shaking, she's-so-stupid mentality.  As if commitment means nothing and vows are just words we say, but when the going gets tough it should be every woman for herself.

This is not to say that I have any judgement for divorcees.  I have no idea what you've been through, and more importantly, I have no idea what God has directed you to do.  I believe that there are wonderful, righteous, Godly people, who find themselves divorced.  I trust that each person prayed their way through this incredibly difficult trial and that they made the best decisions they could as they worked to follow God's will.

But that doesn't take anything away from those who are led to stay.  There are those who have challenges in their marriages and when they beg God to release them, He says, "Trust me.  Stay for a little while longer."  Why should we look at those who stay with disdain and celebrate only those who leave?  I'm going to celebrate all those who follow God.  And if the answer is to leave, I will celebrate that you left.  Not because you left, but because you followed God.  But if the answer is to stay, I'm going to celebrate it just as much.  I celebrate those who follow God and seek do to his will.

Benefits of an Accountability Partner

After I read the book Done and Done, I knew that having and accountability partner would be a huge help in my life.  As an Obliger, I would now be obliged to be accountable for what I was doing.  I admit that it has surprised me just how well I can now stick to goals that were very, very difficult before.

Let's take exercise as an example.  This, for me, is an incredibly easy habit to break, even when I've been successfully doing it for months at a time.  A change of season (whether of the year or of life), a change of schedule, even a minor interruption on a single day can derail my exercise goal completely.  And in the passage of time that it would take to snap your fingers, I suddenly can't figure out how to get to the gym even though I'd been successfully going for months.

Part of why I think I'm easily discouraged on this one is my weight.  I'm overweight and I know it.  I work pretty hard not to make that a big focus of my life.  I work to make healthy choices in what I eat and to exercise regularly. But I must admit that these seem to be small things when compared to the obstacle before me.

I have had a bunch of stuff that could easily set me back this year including back problems that I haven't had before.  But having an accountability partner means that someone besides me sees how hard I am trying.  She sees how much effort I put in.  She honors and encourages that effort every day.  This one witness makes all the difference.  Sometimes when I talk with doctors or others, I think they're thinking, "Yeah, right.  Like she works out that much..."  But knowing that Kari knows. That she actually knows which days I get to the gym, how long I'm there, the walks I take on day I can't get to the gym, etc. gives me a confidence and encouragement that I hadn't had before.

I honestly have no idea if accountability partnering is helping Kari or not, but I'm so grateful that she's jumped into this with me.  If you're thinking of having an accountability partner, but don't know who to ask, here's some questions I asked myself before talking to Kari.

1. Who is in a similar phase of life?  While I think that it might be possible to have an accountability partner who is notably older or younger than you, I felt like it would be best to be well matched.

2. Who has a similar schedule?  I have some wonderful friends who are ambitious and goal driven, but work full time.  They're likely not going to be able to text often during the day to either report or give feedback.  (e.g. I can't really imagine my a dear friend who is a teacher pausing her 1st grade class to text "Good job!" when I'm done at the gym.)

3. Who can text often?  Kari and I don't text much on the weekends--Sunday's almost not at all--but the rest of the week we text each other 15-30 times per day, both reporting our progress and encouraging each other.  

4. Who has similar goals?  Kari and I both have a blog, like marketing,  are invested in public education by helping in classes, PTA, etc.  We have a similar number of kids who are of similar ages. We have found that we often are driving carpool on the same day. We both love being stay-at-home moms, but have interest in entering the work force at some point.  Maybe.  It depends on how well the work-at-home stuff can go. This is a lovely place for both of us.

5. Who do you like, but don't naturally see often?  Kari and I live on opposite sides of the same city.  Our sons (her 1st and my 3rd) were in a gifted program together for 3 years. And then they went to junior high.  Our boys will go to different high schools and none of the rest of our kids line up.  Except for a chance meeting or deliberate scheduling, Kari and I don't run into each other much.  I think that's actually a helpful characteristic. I really don't think I could have a neighbor or ward member successfully be my accountability partner.

6. Who is supportive, but not judgmental?  If I take a nap or read a book, I need someone to say, "Way to go!  You took time for yourself!  That's so important."  You have to be honest.  This needs to be someone you can say, "I've been on Twitter for the last hour and I need to get going." without feeling overly embarrassed. 

7. Be flexible to stop being partners if it's no longer helpful.  When we began, we agreed to try this for a month or so, then talk about it.  We adapt as we go (not texting on Sundays) and we can stop being partners at any time.  We're also going to have to figure out how to get through vacations and other pauses. If there's one thing that I know for sure, it's that having an accountability partner is helping me not only reach my goals, but also my potential. 

Great News for Nathan!

For the first time in more than a year, both of Nathan's eyes have shown improvement between doctor appointments.  And he'll get at least a 5-month reprieve from eye surgery because of it.  I am overjoyed, overwhelmed and grateful.  The catch is that I know that I am no more deserving of this good news than I was of bad news for the last year or more.

Still, it's good news.  Heck, it's GREAT news!

When we got bad news, I would take it to my Father in Heaven and pour at my heart and plead for my son.  Now, I'll do the same, but this time pouring out my heart in gratitude.  I am grateful to accept this blessing for as long as it is extended to our family.

Nathan after the Christmas band concert.

The New Way to Set Goals Part 4 | Closing Loopholes

When I began goal tracking, I gave myself permission to change my goals if they weren't fitting my needs.  While a lot of goal setting data says you can change or update your goals weekly, with my monthly tracking sheet, I figured once a month would do.

Having achieved 100% success on my goal of kneeling to pray, I took it off the list.  It was time to focus on things that I was struggling with.

After reading some of Gretchen Rubin's work on loopholes (you know the moments when you say, "This doesn't count."), I began setting some rules around my goals.  So instead of the goal of "going to bed by 11:30."  I changed it to "be in the bedroom by 11:30."  If I need to grab something, take pills, etc. I'm allowed to leave the bedroom after bedtime as long as I don't sit down.  I can go and do, but I have to come right back.

Realistically, 11:30 isn't early enough, but just changing the goal has made it much easier to accomplish. While I "went to bed by 11:30" only 4 times in January, I've accomplished the goal of "be in the bedroom by 11:30" nine times so far in February by the evening of the 21st (yesterday)!

Setting rules around my goals has helped me reach my exercise goals as well.  Last fall when I met with my gynecologist, the issue of my weight came up.  "Look," she said, "if you really want to do this, you've got to commit to working out 5 hours a week. I don't care how you get that in, but 5 hours is the goal."

At the time I was, realistically, working out twice a week for 30 min.  A whopping one hour. I began by jumping in for 45 minutes 4 times a week.  It wasn't 5 hours yet, but it was a huge improvement.  Then my hip flared up (I do have rheumatoid arthritis, after all), after that I struggled with back problems, a new medication made me nauseated and gave me heartburn.  And unless I could work out for 45 minutes, I wouldn't even try to do it.  I'm betting you can see how quickly my exercise was back to zero.

I was talking with my sister (in hopes that she could me meet me at the gym and that obligation would get my rear in gear) when she mentioned something her husband recommended.

"Sometimes I really don't have time to work out, but Michael suggested that, on those days, maybe I could just walk around the block.  Sure, it's not much, but it's better than nothing."

While our schedules didn't really work for exercising together, I loved this rule.  When I don't have time for exercise, I can at least walk for 15 minutes.  Turns out in my very strange shaped neighborhood, it takes me about 15 minutes to walk around the "big block." When my day is crazy and I know I'm not making it to the gym, a 15 minute walk allows me to check the exercise box and feel a lot better about myself.  

As I looked at my goals, I've realized I have to embrace my personal commandment of "Be Jenna."  One of these realization is that I'm not a morning person.  I want to be a morning person.  I want to so badly! But I'm not.  In fact, I think better, write better, and even love to talk more at night.  My whole family had a few week obsession with the game Trivia Crack.  I found I could win games in a single sitting at 11:00 at night.  I think both clearly and quickly then.  In the morning, I'm groggy, fuzzy and sometimes silly.  Not only can I not play Trivia Crack in the morning, I can't remember what I need to get done. My morning planning in January, while well intentioned, was abysmal because I don't think well in the morning.  Period.  (I checked that box a whopping three times in January's 31 days.)

Now I've tried to change. Really, I have. I read an ebook all about switching from a night owl to an early bird. I listened to a podcast about the importance of mothers doing a lot in the morning. (You must get up before your kids!)  I even joined a challenge called, "Hello Mornings." The sum total of all that effort mostly made me feel like a failure.  I can want it, but I can't seem to make the shift.  I am not a morning person.  I need a little time to wake up slowly.  And if I want to write a successful plan for my day, it had better be at night.

So I completely gave up on "morning planning" and instead do "evening planning."  And you know what?  It fits so much better with my life! Not only have I done this one (also an important component of accountability partnering) nine times, but I sleep better when I do it.

I can't tell you how much I used to struggle falling asleep.  I would often lie down only to have everything that l needed to do the next day running on an endless loop in my head, ruining my rest.  Once I managed put it out of my mind and actually get to sleep, I would often awake around 3:00 in the morning with at start, almost like a panic attack, with my adrenaline pumping, worried if I could get it all done.  When that happened, it would take me up to two hours to get back to sleep again.  And, oh, waking up in the morning was so painful because of my pitiful night's sleep.

Now that my next day's plan is all worked out in my bedroom as part of my getting-ready-for-bed routine, that worry doesn't seem to creep in.  I set up my to-do lists in two columns, the left is what can reasonably get done in a day and the right holds other stuff I need to do, which I will do if I have time, but can postpone if I don't. It removes the stress.  I only put on the left what I can, actually do.  The rest isn't mandatory.  And if I remember something after-the-fact, while I'm falling asleep, I just turn on my lamp, jot it down on my list and I'm back to bed with nary a worry.  Seriously.  This has been a game changer.

In the vein of embracing, "Be Jenna," I also pushed back my get-up-in-the-morning time to 7:15.  And I'm still really struggling with this one.  I'm going to have to give my morning goal a lot of thought and figure out why it's not working, what my goal should be, or if I should even should even have one.

In January, with my goal of becoming a morning person (and my Hello Mornings challenge), my mornings were structured around movement (exercise), the word of God (scriptures) and morning planning.  But if I didn't get my scriptures read FIRST THING in the morning, I wouldn't even try to do it later.  So I did my own personal scripture study only 30% of the time, because it was contingent on doing it in the morning.  In the reworking of my goals for February, I gave myself the leeway to accomplish it any time.  I now had some 16 waking hours in which to read one chapter of scripture, or less if I felt very pressed.  Suddenly my success ratio on reading scriptures is dramatically higher.  It took me until Feb 9 to rework my goals and start tracking again, but since then, I've only missed personal scriptures twice and that's a streak I'm really proud of!

The New Way to Set Goals Part 3 | Accountability Partner

As January drew to a close and my goals seemed to sputtering (as goals often do come the end of January), I bumped into a post about Gretchen Rubin's new book on habits.  In this book she has a quiz that guides people to understanding about why they do (or don't) keep new habits. She asserts that people fall into one of four habit personality types: Obliger, Upholder, Questioner and Rebel. 

Turns out, I'm an Obliger.  I do everything that people are counting on me to do.  But I struggle with keeping habits where I'm only accountable to myself.  The best system for an obliger?  Create accountability.

Part of me understands this system well.  I learned a few years ago that I wouldn't get my house organized without outside help.  So I hired help, then I've had some friends who love organizing keep me going when things start to fall apart.  Almost two years ago, I hired a woman to help me clean my house.  I admit that I have a pretty modest budget, but I keep having her come, because she doesn't clean FOR me, she cleans WITH me.  My family knows that every Saturday for two hours we all have to clean.  Period. It keeps me going when I might otherwise throw in the towel.

But the day-in-day-out, stay-off-of-Facebook kinda stuff is hard.  And I've actually found that, with all of my children in school all day, it is actually HARDER, not easier to get stuff done.  It was a weird phenomenon and maybe something I have whined about a time or two.

You know how sometimes, when you're prepared, you get exactly what you need?  That's how I felt about a Facebook post by a friend (and writer) in which she mentioned her accountability partner.  And I felt little brain explosion.  This was a thing?  I'm not alone?  Other people struggle with not getting stuff done and there's a solution?  She introduced me to an adorable little book called, Done and Done: The Power of Accountability Partnering to Reach Your Goals.  I read this little gem in an afternoon and am currently on a quest for an accountability partner.

Realizing exactly how game changing, this could be, I've started with Wendell as my accountability partner and I'll make the segue to someone else as soon as I can get someone to bite. (This is actually working OK for now, but I think in the long run it would be beneficial NOT to have my spouse trying to help me be accountable.)