How I Beat the Comparison Game

I’m sure we’ve all come across the article(s) about the dangers of comparing ourselves with others, and the posts showing “real life” behind the perfect pictures. It’s always a feel-good read, and I’m reminded not to compare myself to the 100lb blogger with 5 kids and a six pack, but I inevitably fall back into the vicious cycle again of measuring myself to others.

Before I share some points, I need to explain how this all came to be. Scott and I got a puppy about two months ago, and I usually end up being the one to walk him a couple times a day. At first, this was cute, but after a while, it gets boring to just walk as your dog sniffs around, so I started listening to some podcasts to pass the time. I found myself slowly getting pulled towards self-help podcasts, and I find that all of the ones I’ve listened to I’ve twisted to helping me with this comparison issue I have, because although I’m giving this advice it’s still something that I’m working on. I am wickedly susceptible to the comparing game that happens on social media. I feel I’m constantly reminding myself that it’s only me I need to worry about, but it wasn’t until the last couple months after doing a few specific things that I’ve noticed a difference in how I view myself and have (started to) beat that nasty habit.

 Double Check Your Values

In a really interesting study, a couple psychologists discussed “Wishful Seeing”. I’m really bad, because every time I read something I twist it so that it applies to what I want at that moment (wishful seeing! Haha), so you may very well read the article and it comes across very differently, but this is essentially what I got from it: what is important to you will stand out more. I had listened to Emily Balcetis, one of the authors of the article, on a TED talk, which I’ll talk more about later, and it really got me thinking. I notice the perfect hair, bodies, clothes, or whatever because that’s what I’m wanting. I realized I needed to take a step back and re-evaluate where I put value. I had been sucked into the notion that appearances are more important than character. When I’m looking at social media I remind myself about what’s really important to me: integrity, honesty, kindness (none of which I am an emblem of, but maybe someday). It changed who I followed, who I looked at, and, actually, how much time I spent on it. Though, fitness accounts are still my weakness. I love a good transformation story, you guys. When I’m looking at a person’s post, and they look thin and their makeup perfectly done, I remind myself to look for the values I want. They’re posting a picture with their children? I respect that. You go and spend quality time with your family. It’s not about how you look, it’s about how you act, and that’s what I’m trying to focus on. What I wish for in my life I will undoubtedly seek, so I might as well wish for more substantial things.

 Maintain Your Own Vision

I work out (fairly) regularly, and find that I’m the kind of person who has to go to the gym. If I’m at home, I just end up watching a movie in my gym clothes and calling it a day. One day while walking Winston, I chose to listen to the TED talk “Why Some People Find Exercise Harder Than Others” because I was feeling like I wasn’t pushing myself very hard when I went, and seriously, exercising is hard for me. In it, Emily talks about the phrase “keep your eyes on the prize” and describes how people in a race who focused only on the finish line, instead of things happening on the sidelines, saw the finish line as 30% closer. Their goals were more attainable and there was no comparison with others. I needed to hear this. I oftentimes find myself working out, then noticing the insanely ripped girl in the corner doing handstand push ups and having my motivation slip quietly out the window. One day, I really thought about what my vision is. Where do I imagine myself being in a year? In a month? What were my goals for my job, for my body, for my relationships? I decided on my vision(s), and I repeatedly remind myself when I’m stuck in a rut of comparison that it doesn’t matter what’s happening on the sidelines, it matters what my finish line is; it matters what my vision is and not anyone else’s. I think it’s easy to compare when we are not totally engaged in our own goals. I find when I’m idle and aimless that I feel as though everyone around me is doing everything right and I’m just watching from the sidelines. I think when we have our own vision it’s also easier to be happier for other’s success. When we’re all anxiously engaged in something that feeling of competition fades away.

Keep A Growth Mindset

I could write about a growth mindset all freaking day. I am obsessed with the book “Mindset” by Carol Dweck. It changed how I taught, how I looked at my marriage, and how I looked at people in general. It essentially teaches that people with a “fixed” mindset, which, hint hint, is not a good thing, are ones who believe that the traits they have are just aspects of their personality and they can’t change that; they are unwilling to try to change who they are. They also give up at the first sign of challenge and simply deem anything difficult as “not their thing”. They are, in simple terms, afraid of failure, and will do whatever they can to avoid it.

Growth mindsets, however, see failure as a step in a process of learning. They recognize that to fail means to be challenged, and those challenging things pay off. It’s hard, don’t get me wrong, most of us have been thinking the other way our entire lives, but I find life much more satisfying when I accept that it’s okay to fail and to not be perfect. It’s good to not be the best and to try something different and make yourself look like a fool. It’s terrifying, but I have gained more from this mindset than I can even put into words. I was the kid who wouldn’t run in a track meet because I knew I wouldn’t win, or I wouldn’t take calculus because I didn’t think I could be the best. I have been so scared to fail my entire life, and I found that I was just constantly looking around envying everyone’s successes and holding it against them because I was so afraid of my failures. I remember after my first year of university calling my mom because I didn’t do well in my classes, mostly because I slept through them, and saying, “Why didn’t you let me do a year long course and call it a day?! I should’ve done something easy!” In her wisdom, she told me how happy I would be at the end of my schooling. It seemed so far away, but thankfully I trusted her. And you know what? I figured it out. It was challenging, and I definitely failed at many things, but I cherish the things I learned about myself at that time. Failing is good, and just because someone isn’t failing at the same things as you does not mean they aren’t failing at some thing. Instead of pitting yourself against the world, recognize that we’re all running very different races, and cheer for everyone.

And there you have it. Three things I have been working on. I think I could sum this entire spiel into one sentence: Focus on your finish line, and cheer on the other runners.

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Superficial Happiness

The holidays always make me want to write. What is it about Christmas and family time that seems to clarify so many thoughts? Nonetheless, I had a very eye-opening experience this past week. It started on Friday, the day before Christmas Eve when I was wildly running around for presents. Before going into the season I adamantly told myself this would be a very relaxed, minimal Christmas, yet here I was impulse buying things neither Scott nor myself wanted to cram into our house. It wasn’t until I was standing in Superstore did I look around and acknowledge the anxiety seeping from me. I was unhappy, and it was because I felt the need to buy.  This need, to fill some void that we self-create, is so toxic, but we continuously fall into it. Why?

We all know I am fascinated by social media. The need to have people acknowledge and affirm one’s relationships, purchases, workout regime, and children is something I am continually trying to wrap my head around. I can’t tell you how many times I have deleted these apps only to come crawling back a few weeks later. It’s an addiction, really, and I wish we treated it like it is, but I digress. Lately, I have perused Instagram and seen that with Christmas comes the dreaded giveaway posts. I fall into this trap people; please don’t think I am immune to this. Just a week ago I spent 20 minutes liking and following a loop of people for products I wasn’t remotely interested in. I wasted precious holidays that I look forward to for quite some time so that I could shop for things I didn’t want or most likely wouldn’t get.

This is where self-awareness comes in and is desperately needed. This is where, while standing in the middle of Superstore looking at who knows what, I dropped the things I didn’t absolutely need and walked away. I drove straight to my parent’s house, held my niece, and thought that this is what I want in life. I left after a quick visit, met Scott at an old folk’s home where his grandma lives, sang Christmas songs with his family, and again thought to myself that this is what I want.

I don’t want the choker necklace, or the micro-bladed eyebrows, or the creepy lipstick that doesn’t seem to come off. So why the heck do I feel like I need to buy it? It’s social media. It’s the destructive social-powered machines that are telling you that you need to have a well-dressed toddler, do BBG workouts, and “eat clean” with the right things, and it is exhausting.

And this is the part where I address the mothers around me, because I will be one of you in the future (not an announcement), and I am terrified of the idea. The thought of joining your group gives me instant anxiety, and not because I will have an adorable red-haired baby. I am terrified because your group is the hardest of them all to keep up with. Your group seems simultaneously happy but unreachable all at the same time, and I am worried what will happen to me when I become one of you.

When did we need to start having a diaper bag that costs a middle-class worker’s daily pay? When did we need to get strollers that cost half of a paycheck? Who is saying that these are the best things out there to buy? And why are we believing them? I look at my life right now, and I know I won’t be able to afford to keep up with all of this, and that in part creates some feelings of failures. Even further, I know that I’m financially better off than some people who have these things, which, frankly, horrifies me.

Is having a certain life portrayed on Instagram and Facebook really making you happy? Are those 150 likes and 20 comments really your source of joy? I have started thinking about this. My need to show everyone that Scott and I are happy and to tell them what’s happening in my life. My need to show that I lost 5 pounds or that my hair is a new colour. To give monthly updates to strangers about my baby or pregnancy. To buy a new car, house, or living room set and remind everyone that I can use a plastic card at a checkout.

Whenever I’m unhappy, it’s usually because I have been swooped up into this notion that I am not enough and I do not have enough. So, I’ve done some research, and you’re welcome to join me in my future endeavors. I’ve started doing it a bit, and I can already see an improvement. Here’s what it is: every time I buy something, I ask myself the real reason I want it. The honest reason. For instance, I bought a turtleneck the other day, that I felt sort-of-partial to, and asked myself why I had done that. The answer I came to? I wanted people to see me as “sophisticated”. Ha! I’m still kicking myself over this. I bought something not because I loved it, but because I wanted to appear a certain way to a group of people, instead of just showing it through actions and words.

The other day I stood in Costco by a sectional, feeling anxious and unsettled, because I was worried the sets would be sold out. I had to buy the couch right then, I told myself, because I had waited 6 months for these couches to come back and today was the day I would buy it.

 … Then I started thinking: we could really use some new winter tires on the car, and let’s be real, the washer is most likely going to go out in the next 6 months. I stopped and asked myself, “Will I be happy I bought this tomorrow? Why am I actually buying this?” I realized that the only reason I wanted the couch was because I had a certain colour scheme I wanted to achieve in our living room. It wasn’t because our couches at home were worn out (they’re 2 years old), it was because I saw a colour, I saw a deal, and I wanted people to walk into our house and think that it looked good. Again, not buying because of necessity, buying because of social pressures I’ve placed on myself. Buying to fit with the trends. Buying stuff so that people would notice it.

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I’m starting with purchases, but I want to transform this into my daily life. What is the real reason I check Instagram 10 times in an hour? What’s the real reason I binge watch Skin Wars in a day? I think it’s time we start being honest with ourselves. What’s the actual reason for what we do? Are we escaping? Are we chasing? Trying to keep up? Because for me, I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s because I don’t feel like I’m enough, and I’m really over that feeling.

Why Nerds Are Always the Happiest

Being in junior high brings up a lot of feelings: some crusty and forgotten, and some very, very fresh. It's hard to watch young kids each day desperately find some kind of identity. They're trying to fit in, to find what they're good at, and my heart goes out to them. No one wants to live through the woes of junior high twice, especially me. While this is difficult, I'm seeing a very interesting group of people blossom out of my classes: the nerds. Before we create an image of what they look like, let me first explain my definition of a nerd from a personal experience.

In my last year of school, I was sitting in a class with a bunch of overeager education students. Anyone who has been in the program can tell you that some of the classes are very, in my most endearing word, "fluffy"; all touchy-feely and truly painful to sit in. Each of us was to present something about ourselves in a given form to the class. I picked the safest route by simply showing an old picture of myself, quickly giving a spiel, and sitting down. Other people in my class were much more ambitious. One boy sang, one spoke Korean, one recited poetry, and one guy explained how he did Kendo (Japanese martial art that involves sticks) on the weekend. The Kendo guy stuck out to me. As I watched him swinging around his sticks, talking about his group of friends, and how they would go on the weekends and compete, one part of me sniggered thinking what a giant nerd he was. Why wasn't he embarrassed? You're almost 30 years old! Put the sticks down and do something respectable!

The other part of my brain didn't follow the same stream: I was intrigued. He looked absolutely, completely comfortable and happy with himself. There was no hint of hesitancy in sharing something that most other people would not consider a "cool" thing. I initially chalked this up to a lack of self-awareness in a social setting, but that didn't seem to fit. I realized this guy was a nerd, he was aware of it, and he enjoyed being one. My concept of a nerd dramatically changed that day. 

As I get older I am seeing a really interesting trend in my generation; it's something I call generic individuality. We wear things we wouldn't normally because we see a blogger wearing it, and we wear it before it becomes too popular. We go to places we wouldn't normally because we can post a picture of it. We exercise to post about it, we cook to show it off, and we create to display. We are consistently attempting to fit into an ever elusive group that has no leader. Trust me, it has its own personal pull on me. The other day I found myself thinking I needed a spiralizer to make zucchini noodles, but thankfully I reminded myself I hate zucchini. There is tremendous pressure to experience what everyone else is experiencing. The only problem with this is that I think it stops us from finding what we individually would enjoy. We miss the "nerd" opportunities! We don't get to geek out over things and thus feel obligated to semi-enjoy what the masses do. 

And this is where my group of student-nerds comes in. The happiest kids, and generally the most fun to be around, are those who have their own things. Part of this happiness comes from a sense of identity that they gain from their nerdisms- am I allowed to just make up words like that? They are so excited about something, and they have it as their own. They do not do it for publicity, or for recognition, they do it simply to enjoy. Nerds enjoy things, with little concern about why they need to enjoy it. It is simply theirs, and that's all that matters. No pictures, no videos. No one needs to know about it but them.

That has been my goal the last couple of months. I have been searching desperately for my nerdism. What's so fun about this is that I have found myself exposed to so many ideas and concepts that I was never willing to consider before because of some conceived notion of my identity. I feel like I'm starting to get to know myself again, and I'm starting to actually enjoy things. One day I read about honey bees, and now it's all I want to talk about with people. I love bees! With that has come a greater appreciation for the environment, and I have thoroughly enjoyed expanding my views. The best about this is that it has never been propelled by a social need but as a personal need. As someone who cannot handle stress in the least, this has been a saving grace. When life gets overwhelming, I go off and I get to explore things and find what makes me happy. It has been so fulfilling and refreshing, and I have found myself slowly starting to fit into what makes me a nerd.

Are You Having A Baby?

I think this is the fourth time I've started this blog post. As of late I have been very neglectful of this thing. Mostly, I write posts but don't ever publish them. Now that the mothers of my students can read this I feel hyper-aware of what I say, and so anything controversial, or even particularly personal, doesn't get published.

But, this I cannot stop thinking about. No matter how hard I try this thought has been taking up a large portion of my mind, so I guess I'll just get to it.

 For the first year of our marriage, I was constantly told not to have kids. This bothered me then and still bothers me now. It wasn't a suggestion or even a bit of advice to wait; this was an order. Do not have children. You are not allowed to have children. I had to be a working, contributing citizen. To have a child while Scott was in school, where I had no employment base, was juvenile and selfish. Why people cared about this is beyond me. By the first year, after people realized we were not having a honeymoon baby, the comments started to disappear. People were relieved I was graduating and getting a job, and it was a blissful year of little-to-no baby comments.

By year two, things changed. Suddenly the fact that I was not having children started to bother people. Now that we are moving into year three, and I'm almost 25, people are concerned. I am asked three times a week why I don't have children; there is no hyperbole in that sentence. It has gone to such an extent that people have just started assuming I was having kids. Scott has had strangers come up to him saying, "Congratulations on the baby!" After that, I realized I wasn't allowed to gain any weight. Weight= having a baby.

Suddenly, everything I was doing was being analyzed by others. Feeling sick? You're pregnant! Tired? Pregnant. Hungry? Definitely pregnant. I even once went to the bathroom too many times, and people asked if I was pregnant. When did this become okay?

I am thrilled for those having children. Be around me for 5 minutes with a toddler, and you can tell that I love children. I wouldn't have chosen the job I did if I didn't. You want to post about your baby? Awesome. You want to write out your birth story? I will read that and bawl the entire way through. I think motherhood is beautiful, I think having kids is awesome, but what works for you might not work for me.

While people may deny it, there is a definite cultural expectation. You should be married by your early 20s, have a baby within a couple years, and then continue on doing so until you see fit. This is a normal pattern, and honestly one I expected from myself when I was younger, but I've come to realize this isn't a pattern that I will most likely follow. I'm glad if this is you, but there is a group of women out there, and I think this can even apply to those not married, who feel like their worth is in question because they have not followed "the plan".

It's the little comments in passing that I find are the most hurtful. I know people look at me and they're wondering what's going on. While not straight out saying it, people assume that I do not have children because I am obsessed with work, or I care too much about money, or I'm "struggling to have it happen". Honestly, it's none of anyone's business. There are a million reasons to have kids, but there are also a million reasons not to, and some of them are in and out of a person's control.

Do I want to have children? Yes. Of course, but I just can't understand how at 25 I feel like my time to bear children is running out, and this is because of other people's thoughts or opinions. The other day I was asked why Scott and I didn't have kids yet. I usually give a different response each time; it keeps people on their toes, haha. The person asked, "Well how old are you?" I replied I was 24, turning 25 in a bit. They replied, "Oh, you have a little bit of time left, I guess."

Honestly, I went home and I cried. At 24 was I missing the window of having a baby? I know people don't mean anything by it, but it has given me so much anxiety and stress. I feel like my value as a woman is nothing because I don't have children. I'm not as experienced or mature as someone else with kids. The fact that I work hard in everything I do, and I'm trying my best, does not seem to be a measurement of worth at my age. Working and just being with my husband is viewed as almost selfish. I am selfish because I don't have children. I care too much about worldly things because we are trying to save up for a house instead of a baby.

I don't hold anything against anyone. I know that people don't mean to hurt by these questions. I feel the need to keep reiterating that. I just want to write this, because I have realized more and more that you never know what's going on in a person's life. You don't know their innermost desires; you don't know the factors behind people's choices, in any situation. We often jump to conclusions and discuss people that we really, truly, do not know. Honestly, let's just let people mind their own business. I guess that is the moral of this post. When someone is sick, just let them be sick. If someone has gained ten pounds, let's stop speculating over why they did. We are so consumed with watching other people's lives. In such a busy life, why do we even have time to do this? There are so many other wonderful things we could be discussing and enjoying.

Next time we feel the need to ask a person why or why not they have done anything, let's stop ourselves. People have enough trials and burdens in their lives without us placing expectations and pressures on them, even if it's unintentional. I have been there, and I've put my foot in my mouth, but being on the receiving end has illustrated the pain of feeling like you are failing at "the plan", and that you are not worth as much as others. People do not have complete control over their lives, and we often forget that sometimes things are not based on choice.

Three Easy Meals For When You're Too Tired To Cook: Part 1

As promised: more documenting, and a not-so-heavy post.

I love to cook. I find it really relaxing and I feel much happier after a meal if it's come from fresh food instead of a box or a fast food place. The problem though, is that cooking can be really time consuming.

Only about once or twice during the week do I spend any real time on dinner (as in over half an hour getting things ready). Other than that I try to get food on the table within about twenty minutes. This can be difficult if you're trying to stay away from instant meals like Mac & Cheese or grilled cheese sandwiches- basically anything with dairy in it- why must cheese be so delicious? Scott and I both don't do well with dairy. I become a bloated pig for the next day and Scotty breaks out like a pubescent teen.

So here are my favourite sugar-free, dairy-free, and worry-free meals that we make.

I actually don't know the name of this dish, but my sister made it for me once and it was DELICIOUS- so let's call it peppers and chicken haha. I tried to recreate it the next day (that's how good it was) but I only used what I could remember. I have realized this dish is basically foolproof. I've thrown whatever I feel like in with it and it has always turned out great. The other great part? It requires little to no cooking-in-front-of-a-hot-stove-sweating-to-death kind of preparation and everything is fresh.

One way I cut out a lot of cooking time is I cook my chicken breasts at the beginning of the week. Then I can quickly grab one out of the fridge and put it on a frying pan for a few minutes if needs be. It saves SO much time. Also, this is a great recipe for if you're like me and you buy bell peppers constantly and then forget to use them.

Well, let's get to it!


Peppers and Chicken Salad

Ingredients:

• 2-4 chicken breasts cooked and sliced (Scott and I easily go through two)
• 5-6 bell peppers sliced (We usually use 3 for just the two of us)
• Half a red onion chopped
• 1 jalapeño, seeded

Combine those in a bowl and let them sit. I have added banana peppers instead of jalapeño and my sister adds olives instead of jalapeño. Some other time maybe I'll post on when you should use certain kinds of onions. Once you know what kind to use, it will change your meals for the better!

Sauce:

• Quarter cup of red wine vinegar (I usually use less than this)
• Quarter cup of olive oil (I use less oil too)
• 1 Tablespoon of Balsamic Vinegar (I double it because I have a weird addiction to balsamic vinegar)
• 1-2 teaspoons of chili flakes
• 2 cloves of garlic (I press mine- I love my garlic press!!)

Mix those together and pour over the the first half. Let it sit for a few minutes to soak up the juices. 

Right before serving dice up two tomatoes and mix them in. Salt and pepper to taste.

I have served it with baguettes or buns to dip in the juice and it's delicious, but if you're trying to stay away from bread it's delicious all on its own! The chicken really soaks up the flavour and the peppers are a yummy crunch. 

Enjoy!

Can we just laugh at this picture for a second? I actually made this recipe the other day, and I was so hungry I didn't think to take a picture. For some reason I feel like a recipe needs a picture... Pixlr skills to the rescue! 

I Hate Finals Week

I have severe writer's block. The thing with blogs is that it's really fun to write on one, but then I remember that my words will be put out into space and I get too nervous. My resolution this year is to record, and I'm hoping to make a book for my someday family. I tried to do a scrapbook and it sucked, and then I thought I would do an Instagram book and remembered my Instagram is embarrassing.

So here I am, having no idea what to talk about. C'est la vie; it must be done. I am in a weird zone of my blog right now. Do I get down to the nitty-gritty, or do I tell you guys a bunch of non-interesting details about my life? That is the question. I think I'll start with the non-interesting details, if we're going to be straight forward here.

I am still teaching, and my classes are getting into their finals. I have decided this is the worst time of year. Yesterday in a final I saw a 16 year old boy silently start to cry as test anxiety and panic started to take over. I had a very conflicting dialogue with myself. Do I help the boy? Well, it's a final and he needs to do this on his own... But would I want someone to help me? Yes, but again, Kelsey, it is a final and this needs to assess his understanding! I started to cry. Haha, so silly. I shed a single tear for this boy. That's so embarrassing to say. In the end I got up and helped the kid. I helped him plan his essay out and gave him some ideas. I feel a little guilty, because there was some definite nudging on my part, but to see relief wash over his face when he realized he could do it was totally worth it.

I realized two things in that instance:

1. There is nothing worse than finals week.

2. I really, genuinely love the kids I teach.

Somedays I come home from work, throw my bag down and my hands up and tell Scott, "I am so done with this. I am done with those crabby, lazy, no good, rotten teenagers! Why can't they work? Why are they so mean to each other? Why can't they get off their (blank) phones?!" I usually rant for a few more minutes, declare myself done with them for eternity, and then have a three hour nap. There have been times where I have gone to bed and thought, "If I didn't show up to work, or if I never went back, would they notice? Am I accomplishing anything in the slightest with these kids?" On those nights sleep does not come easily.

But then something like that test happens, only slightly different. A kid comes and asks for help, or someone that I usually see alone in the halls feels safe in my room, or they do/say something so absurdly hilarious that I laugh harder than I probably ever have before. I realize that I have the chance to be a constant in their life. I am always there for them, sitting at my desk, probably eating some kind of stress treat to get through the day (like the Mr. Big I have in my mouth as I'm typing this), and ready to help them. All this because I love them. I don't know how or when it happens, but it does.


Well, I didn't mean for this blog to turn heavy. My next one will be very light and fluffy, I promise!

My Realms of Reality

Five years ago, I sat in my bed and bawled because I missed high school more than anything in the world. "Life was so easy! I miss my family!" I would think while I downed a tub of Nutella and watched Mean Girls for the 1000th time- which ironically portrays high school as a really horrible thing, which I didn't seem to notice. I hated university, as in really hated it. No one cared about me at university. "Where's the individuality!?" I would wail as Asians and hipsters passed me on the sidewalk. Alas, my first year at school was not good. But you know, it all changed. Eventually, year by year, I fell more in love with school. By the end of it I couldn't get enough. I would spend hours on campus, when I really didn't need to, just because I loved the feeling of being at school. I made friends, like, real friends. And suddenly I was so interesting! And did you wanna hear about my cool facts I learned in my class?

But, as all things do, it ended. My last day of university I held back tears as I wandered around the campus soaking everything in. That school was my school, and I was not ready to be done with it. Then everything changed really quickly. First, I had a job interview, then I had a job, and suddenly I had left my school for a new one. I was heading back to high school. The one place I missed the most five years before and now I was back at it.

I'm not going to give an account of what I've been up to. It's probably what you can imagine any first-year teacher doing. What I've really been thinking about lately is realms of reality. See, the way I imagine life is that as you go about things you are only within a certain reality. As a teenager, I was in a reality that was centered on friends, The O.C. reruns, and school. I didn't have to worry about a job or making my own food; my reality of life was very limited. When I graduated, and moved away from home to attend school, my reality changed. Suddenly I had to think about paying bills (Okay, my mom helped me write every cheque for about two years...). As the next five years passed, my reality at times seemed to explode, rather than nicely transition, with massive life changes.  Marriage, for example. I don't want to pretend here like marriage is not a massive life change, because it is. Let's all stop pretending like marriage is instantly easy. I've learned the delicate science of living with a man, and that in and of itself has expanded my reality to multiple new levels. ;)

I think everyone has those experiences, whether it's from traveling, or marriage, or children. You're sitting there one minute, and then in the next you realize that your life, along with yourself, has completely changed. Everything you thought was important has shifted, and you need to make room for an entirely new situation. I love that feeling. Isn't it wonderful to think: Wow, I can handle more now than I could yesterday. That's how I'm feeling right now. I have had to become what some people might call an adult, and it's entirely new to me.

I go to school everyday worried that I will do what's best for 100 different kids, and although I don't always succeed, I am constantly being amazed at how much my reality is expanding. My idea about life -and its purpose- about kids, about ideas, about whatever, is constantly shifting. As much as I would somedays love to go back to high school where my realm was tiny and comfortable, I realize that there is so much understanding that I would miss. There is so much more to life, and I'm only starting to get at it. There is so much more expansion for me.

A Plethora Of Pictures

Just some pictures from the past few months:

Part One: Weddings, Cats, and Kids

 Scott and I were both part of our friends' wedding party, and as a bridal party we all got some spray tans. I KNOW, not a great decision on my part. I was orange for two days. For some reason I forgot to put the hair net to my actual hairline (insert: expectations vs. reality of where my hairline really is). Needless to say, I was grateful for my irrational decision to get bangs a few months back.

We love these two! Also, why do us women all love bangs until we get them? This is a mystery to me...

I finished my student teaching. This was the best and hardest two months of my life. Love these kids.

I made the kids some awards the last day of what I loved about them. They returned the favour!

Note: I don't know what to do with my hands... and I am very much out of place. 

We transported some goods for my sister. By goods, I mean a weird cat that had fur like a sheep. Story of my life: "I don't know what to do with my arms!"

S'more s'mores, please!

I wear lipstick everyday. Doesn't matter what I'm wearing, or where I'm going. The other day I put on some really dark lipstick, and Scott had to gently tell me that I looked terrifying.

Part Two: My Birthday!... and food.

My birthday! 

I got a new watch. But don't worry about that too much, instead worry about the fact that I have to physically write "tuition" on my hand because I'm so forgetful. 

I was taken out to lunch to my very first food truck! It was scrum-diddly-umptous. 

Homemade fries? Pulled pork? I'm sold. 

Later, Scott took me out to a delicious Italian place called Picco Lino (Picca lina? Picco Lina? I can't remember... By this point I had eaten myself into a coma).

Gnocchi, and cheese, and gnocchi. 

 Part Three: Selfies, Plants, and... food.

So the other day Scott was showing our friends that he can put a tube of chapstick in his mouth. He succeeded, and I also managed to take a weirdly lit picture of him looking like he's straight out of an exorcist movie. 

Caught Scotty taking a #sassyselfie.

Handsome. 

I don't know how it happened, but Scott and I have become the happy parents of an ever growing family of plants. They truly are our new pets. We say hello to them in the morning, Scott sometimes kisses them goodnight (he insists it will help them grow... okay, I do it too!), and I like to take them outside when it's raining and we hang out together. Also, please note that I have used a water pitcher as a makeshift pot for our lavender... It'll do right? New parent problems...

Aaaaaand, we eat out a lot. 

Just to emphasize my previous point: I have all the best intentions in the world to eat better. If Scott and I eat at home, we are making great choices. The only problem is that sometimes Scott calls me in the middle of an afternoon snack (cultured coconut milk, homemade granola, and fruit), and casually mentions that a food truck selling burgers is open. I didn't even think about leaving my snack behind. Long live red meat and carbs! This is a legitimate issue in our home haha. 

Well, thanks for stinking around!

Stuck In the Middle With You

I'm an 'intro' person of sorts: both introspective and introverted. I would write down a third word starting with "intro" because I'm OCD like that, and I may have just googled "words that start with intro", but alas I don't think I'm very 'introfying', whatever that means. (Just looked it up, and it is 'to increase the impregnating power of '.... hmmm...)

But yes, let's just talk about introspection, haha. I am a very restless person, and I often feel better after some inward thinking. I am one of those people who wanders the library or the streets just thinking, because it helps me to relax the crap down. I don't know how it happened, but today I realized something very monumental about myself while I was walking around campus. It was cold out, and I was wearing a giant sweater that made me feel very "college-y", and it seemed like the school was dead-- probably because it's spring semester, but nevertheless it was very peaceful and quiet. All my best thinking happens when it's a tiny bit chilly and I'm surrounded by silent brick buildings I tell ya!

I thought about how I've been feeling lately. First off, last week was a whirlwind for me. I finished classes, my sister-in-law had a baby, my friends got married, and my cute grandmother passed away. This week, some friends had babies, and others announced they were having babies. All these beginnings and finishings, and I couldn't help but feel like I didn't fit into these things. When I heard some friends were expecting, I silently cried in bed as Scott slept on the other side. Not that Scott and I are actively trying to have a baby, but for some reason I started to feel very left out. I felt like I was missing out on some special new adventure. For the next few days that reaction  was really bothering me. I didn't understand why it got under my skin so much, and thus started my most recent introspection session.

The trees around campus are just starting to bud, and the air feels like it's holding onto winter just barely enough to not let you go without a coat and joyfully lounge around outside. It's a really dampening feeling, but today it kept my senses sharp. I wasn't distracted by anything, and so as I walked I started to mull over the idea of just why I shed some tears the other day. At first I decided that it was just because it has been a hard couple of weeks, and that my emotions had caught up with me, but that didn't sit quite right with me. Next I blamed it on the fact that I haven't had much to do, and so I was just overreacting to something because I have been so sedentary lately. Again, this didn't sit right, because as I have just said I am an introvert and I love nothing more than to sit at home and recharge some nights. Finally, I realized just what has been irking me: I am stuck in the middle.

At the moment, I am off track from most people around me. I'm finishing my undergrad in the spring, whereas most of my class mates finished in April. I'm coming up on my first anniversary, unlike most of my friends who are either single, fresh newlyweds, or marriage veterans with a kid or two. While everyone seems to be finishing up the phase of "figuring it all out", Scott and I seem to be stuck in it, with no near sight of getting out. We are very much in a time where no adventure has started, and no future adventure seems to be coming up any time soon. For this, I started to feel very sad and bitter about things. I felt stuck, and bored, and mostly just left behind on things. I wished that we could be working, and have kids, and heaven forbid even a house (a real house!).

I thought this over for quite some time, then decided to finally head home. All afternoon I let myself feel more and more sorry for just how "middle-y" mine and Scott's life is, until I saw this:

A tiny little playlist that Scott probably didn't think twice about making, just for me. Three songs that define his love for me. I snapped out of my introspective "sharpness", and I thought of that song 'Stuck in the Middle With You'.

Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you,
And I'm wondering what it is I should do,
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face

No idea the meaning of that song, but those lyrics were a comfort at the time. Scott and I are in a time where we are seemingly 'stuck in the middle', with a lot of beginnings and endings ahead of us, but I realized there is something comforting about the middle. It's relaxed, and it's warm, and it's safe. And best of all, he keeps a smile on my face. As our first anniversary comes up, I feel honoured to be stuck with Scott anywhere.

Especially the middle.

Mufasa, Mufasa!

Tonight I was trying to cook us some dinner. It's Sunday, and so that means I have taken the obligatory weekly shower and let my hair air dry. Scott must have noticed how the steam from the food was blowing my hair up like a balloon, because he informs me, "Man Kels, your hair is really frizzy right now!" I reply that it's Sunday night and that I shouldn't even have to wear clothes if I don't feel like it; I'm quite sassy on Sunday nights. I return to the food, and he disappears somewhere.

I kid you not, a few minutes later, I feel a brush being pulled through my hair.

I guess the mane was just too much for poor Scotty.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The kid has such good, hurtful intentions. ;)

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Life Lessons Lately

I cannot even count the number of times I have logged onto this blog, started a vent session in this little white box, and then quietly closed it. Where have I been the last two months you ask? I have been in what I currently call my fast forward mode. Every once and a while, as farther apart as they seem to be getting, my brain flips a switch and I just. can't. stop. Literally, it never stops. Scott affectionately calls this beast mode, though I think he's referring to some type of gaming thing that I'm completely unaware of. Nevertheless, I have been running in one spot for the past two months, and I'm exhausted: emotionally, physically, mentally, you name it! I have lost the ability to relax, to reflect, and to just sit the freak down.  I'm also lacking the ability to purge myself of, well, myself, in writing. I start a sentence, and then my brain sounds the alarm that I have bigger fish to fry. Unfortunately, this has resulted in me having absolutely zero release in the last two months. There are so many things I've wanted to talk about! So many! But instead I fill myself with things that need to be done now, and so everything else gets pushed to the "later" category in my brain.

Anyways, super long introduction there, but tonight I turned off the part of my brain that I have begun to loathe, and I opened up this window. I've sat here for an hour, and thankfully I was able to just think. Of the critical variety. Man, I love critical thinking. I could preach all day about critical thinking! It doesn't help I'm a teacher, so I have basically been brainwashed into loving it, but today I was grateful for it because it made me ask "why". Why do I do everything in my life? Why do I watch Jeopardy every night? (Okay, most obvious answer ever)

(Actually- tangent again- tonight I watched this old lady who has been watching Jeopardy for like 30 years faithfully and she finally was on it and she was a teacher. I wanted to be her so bad... But you know, she really screwed up final jeopardy. Never bid too high I tell ya!)

But yes, critical thinking. As I started asking a lot of questions, I realized that there are so many things that I have learned this past two months that I have been completely oblivious to. Let me now make a nice little list, and share my new found discoveries. Proceed.

1. Trust yo'self!

Seriously, I just need to trust myself. I tend to second guess myself. Can I pull off red lipstick? Have I suddenly started walking weird, or is it just that I thought about this, and am now walking weird...? (is that just me that does that?) In terms of school, I have had a lot of colleagues and mentors tell me that I have the "thing". The "thing" that teachers need to be successful. They watch me teach and congratulate me after, and I'm all like: "But wait, did you just see what I just saw? Because that was not good..." To which they reply: "If you don't trust in your ability, you will never see yourself succeed." That quote will be on Pinterest someday it's just that darn good.

2. I cannot do everything myself.

Before starting this semester, I told Scott that it would be hard on us. I had my placement, I saw how rough the situation was, and I prepared for the worst. Well, my expectations were not accurate. I was blown out of the water in a not so good way. After the first few weeks, I had a student go ballistic and call me some vulgar terms. It was a "straw breaking the camel's back" moment. I put on a straight face, and dealt with the situation, only to feel awful after. I went home later, took one look at Scott, and cried my eyes out. I was sad about the situation my students are in, and the difficulties they face everyday, and realized just how useless I am in fixing those problems. But, looking back, that experience needed to happen. I needed to learn that I cannot deal with my problems alone. I needed Scott at that moment. So grateful I have a husband. 50 points to Gryffindor!... er... I mean marriage!

3. Sometimes you just need to throw the book out the window.

Some days it is necessary to melt chocolate chips in a cup and eat it with a spoon. I have found this to be a great coping mechanism. Cheap therapy! Also, popcorn. Also again, really crappy movies. I need to stop thinking about what I'm supposed to be doing, and just bleeping do what I feel at the moment. The other day I was teaching a lesson, and I decided, "Hey I'm gonna tell the story about when my friends drove into a giant hole because I feel like it!" Best decision I've ever made. Sometimes it doesn't matter if your kids, or yourself, aren't on the straight path to success. Sometimes you need to take a quick detour, eat some food and see some friends, and then get back on your merry way to keep your sanity. Maybe it's the Buddhists I'm surrounded by at school, but I'm really into the idea of having a "path" that has been specially designed for me. There is no general manual for happiness and success.

Anways, if you made it this long I truly want to congratulate you. I will step off my soap box, and go watch some chick flick with Matthew McConaughey in it.

Oh, and P.S. How gross does he look in that new movie about aids? Is it any good? Scott and I need a new film to fall in love with. Feel free to suggest us something to watch!

Mrs. A, out.

Big thanks to Sara, because I saw in my news feed she blogged, and then I remembered I have one of these. 

A Cheesy School Assignment

My mother took this picture of me as we prepared to leave what we affectionately called “The Mouse House”. Given that name due to a story too horrific to share, we lived there until my parents decided it was time to move from our dainty little farmhouse into “town”.  Every time I see this picture my mind turns to a fluffy pink chair I would lounge in, and the mushroom soup I was oddly obsessed with. I was uncomfortable wearing pants, as you can tell from the photograph, and throughout my childhood I continued to have a great aversion for this one piece of clothing. I will admit this once got me in trouble, when I had somehow locked my sisters and myself out of our house in the middle of the winter, forcing them to tow me over to the neighbours bare thighs and all. I don't want to admit how old I was when this happened.

Apart from some humorous stories, this house also holds precious memories of learning. Here I learned basic mathematics. If you have one mommy cat, and one daddy cat, together they will equal more kittens than you can count. I learned some hairdressing, as you can see from my bangs, and so did my mother, as she tried to fix my mistakes. It was while living in this house that I learned to ride a horse, the seasons of planting and harvesting, and that you will break your collarbone if you try to jump from a kitchen table to the couch across the room in one swift leap of faith.

Above all though, it is in this house that I began to learn to read, my favourite pastime. When my mother would bring out the warm towels from the dryer and ask my dad and I to fold them, we would quickly jump into the pile and read Dr. Seuss books until the heat was gone. This house is far and distant in my memories, yet I hold onto it dearly. Despite being young, I remember packing up the car, holding our cat in my lap, and slowly pulling out of the driveway. When I left that warm and isolated home, I left it fondly, and with thoughts of the elephant Horton, eggs and ham of the green variety, and the smell of the prairies on my clothing.

Settling Into Things

I should be studying right now, but I hit a wall about an hour ago and I can't seem to get any will power back. I blame the fact that I wrote two finals today, 3 in class essays and passage citing (blehhhh), and it resulted in a blister on my pinky from rubbing on the paper as I frantically wrote the fastest I could. Being in English is super easy for the most part, there I said it, but then I remember the finals, and the horrible hours spent throwing everything I know onto a piece of paper. Those are the worst. There have been times when my hand has straight up cramped out, only to look at my professor smiling sweetly at my pain. At these moments I simply switch to my left hand and laugh over the struggle they'll have deciphering what I'm trying to write...

Anyways.

On a completely different note, Scott and I decided we are over the honeymoon phase. Is that a weird conversation or what? We were both studying the other night, and our desperation levels must have been guinness world record high, because suddenly laying on our bed, talking about anything, and guessing where each other hid the Christmas presents seemed like a night out on the town. As we laid there promising each other with our pinkies that we wouldn't start watching New Girl on Netflix until we both were done exams (I am ashamed to admit I did not keep this promise), Scott turned to me and started asking me questions.

"If you could eat anything for the rest of your life what would it be?" Uhh, anything that's bad for me.

"What was your favourite part about our wedding day?" Mmmm, the wedding part?

As we laid there, asking each other questions, we started to reminisce about our relationship. We talked about the first time we met, and when I gave Scott his first kiss (yeah, I definitely initiated that act…), and when he came home, and when he proposed. We talked and talked, looking back at everything, and suddenly we talked all the way up to the present. We talked about our relationship, and were both amazed to realize how far we've come. I look back at when we were first pronounced man and wife, and feeling like I knew everything about this guy. If only I could have fast forwarded to the next day when I realized Scott does not close the bathroom door…

At that moment, sitting on our bed, we both had a moment of feeling well acquainted. Reading my mind, Scott said, "I'm so glad we're not in the honeymoon phase anymore." I have to agree. I feel like Scott and I have finally started settling into things. When we were first married there was a lot of adjustment on my part, but we're really starting to get the hang of things. I'm a pouter, but now every time I try to put on the cold shoulder and pucker my lip, I can't keep a straight face for the life of me. I also used to be the queen of shut outs, but now we both realize it's pretty much futile and usually settle things over a big bowl of popcorn. Dill pickle seasoning mandatory. Always. I take pride in the fact that I am becoming less of a brat, and I have to give all of the credit to marriage.

As I mulled this information over, I turned to Scott and said, "You know, I love you in a totally different way than when I first married you." It's true, too. I don't know about anyone else, but suddenly one day you look at your spouse and you realize that you love them for a lot more than you can comprehend. It's actually overwhelming. When I first got married the excitement of everything being new fuelled a lot of my love, but now it's the consistent, everyday things that I love. I've settled comfortably into my feelings, and there's the distinct feeling that there's no going back from this. I couldn't undo this if I wanted to, and it's oddly unsettling and comforting all at the same time.

So, in conclusion, we have successfully moved into the "settling in" phase of our marriage, and it feels really nice. Even though Scott drives me crazy sometimes, and even though I can't for the life of me remember to fold the laundry that has been sitting in the hamper for 5 days, there's strange comfort in these quirks and the fact that they're probably never going to change… Sorry Scott.

I don't know why I feel like I always need to upload a picture? It's a problem, really.

I'm Outré

I've been really trying to get into journaling, but I find myself extremely fake in every entry. It starts as just a simple jotting down of things that have happened, and then I turn super serious, like CNN news during elections serious, and then it turns all emotional, and it's like: "Blessings!" Blaaaaaahh. Anyways, I'm not charming or funny via journal… Actually I'm really not that charming via any sort of medium (insert: every conversation I have). For some reason, 50 years down the road, when my granddaughter is reading my journal, because she's super righteous and loves family history, I want her to remember that her great G-ma Kels actually had a sense of humour. I want to be that cool grandma!

So tonight I sat down, and I imagined this future granddaughter of mine reading my story of me and Noah, and how he built this house for me that had blue shutters, and read to me everyday our story about our undying love… wait, what? But really, I tried to be funny, and I sounded like I was doing a stand up comedy routine.

So then I put the pencil down, and I realized that I'm being a little bit neurotic about this. Rather than imagining the plot to a really sad grandma-granddaughter movie plot where she visits me everyday because I'm super cool, but then I have to die at the end, because for some reason that's always necessary (?!), instead I acted like a normal person. I simply wrote about my day.

Dear Diary,

Today I tried to high five with someone at church, and it didn't go very well. Afterwards, it slipped out during sunday school that I happened to have put mascara on Scott's moustache the other day. And yes, it is a lot thicker than you think. We had the home teachers over, I napped for two hours, then when I woke up my bangs were all curly, and I had an uncanny likeness to Carey Mulligan in Pride and Prejudice before she was smoking hot and instead looked scraggly all the time. Finally, around dinner time I watched Scott mistake a pita for a tortilla, desperately trying to separate the pita in two so he could make a quesadilla… I know, I don't get it either.

Have a great night.

Sincerely,
G-Ma Kelsey


Also, here is a picture of Carey Mulligan in case this is the future and no one understands my popular culture references.

That Time I Became Too Cool for Eight Dollar Jeans

This year I'm not playing on any kind of sports team. I was elated at the idea initially, but now I find myself incredibly bored and inactive. Scott plays on a volleyball team that I found on kijiji. Seriously, what can't you find on that place? I had the idea after I watched that one documentary where that guys lives off craigslist for a month that I can't remember the name of... yep. Anyways, tangent, I have become hyper-competitive with everything, and I'm blaming it on the fact that I have no outlet at the moment. 

The other day Scott was studying, I was studying, and I had the tremendous idea to duel it out via Monopoly Deal. For those who have not played this game, it is highly addictive. To make a long story short, I beat Scott five times in a row. I was floating with happiness. I had gotten my fill of competition and could now effectively study. That night while we were going to bed Scott let it slip that he had let me win a few times. Based on his face I knew he wasn't lying, and in a fit of anger I found myself saying in all seriousness, "You wanna play?! Come at me bro!" And that was the moment I realized I needed to be done with Monopoly Deal for a while... 

So I started out with that story to give you an idea of my hyper-competition at the moment, but this has gotten to actually be a problem for me. Let me use another story to explain why.

On Saturday I woke up and decided I needed new jeans. I didn't care what they would cost, I'd even go into my students loans to have them if I had to. I told Scott of my huge need and he took a look at my closet, which contains more pairs of jeans than I would like to acknowledge and asked quizzically, "But... Why?" I told him it was a stress relief and would make me feel better. He simply nodded his head and followed me out to the mall. While we were there my eyes peered for all of the right brands. We went to some stores I knew we couldn't afford and I longed for the cute jeans. Knowing Scott absolutely despises "brand slaves" I resisted the urge and decided I would get something a little cheaper. I walked by stores that I used to love because they just "weren't good enough", or "not good enough quality". I couldn't find anything I liked and the guilt of spending so much money was starting to get to me, but it was like there was a voice in my head telling me I couldn't settle for something "cheap". Finally, after all hope seemed to be lost, Scott pulled me into Forever 21 and pointed out that there were jeans for $8. Eight dollhairs! I can't remember the last time I saw jeans for that cheap. I refused. I was not going to try on jeans that only cost 8 dollars. Scott encouraged me, and what do you know I loved them. As I went up to the cash register I remember being embarrassed that the girl putting me through would think less of me. I was embarrassed for saving a buck.

Ever since that event I have been disgusted with myself. When did I become a slave to consumerism? More and more I keep seeing people buying things they can't afford, and have looked back to realize I have fallen into that category. I look at families with one income, and probably just an average one at that, and wonder how these moms and dad's can afford to buy that certain pair of pants, or shop at that store. I see babies in brand name clothes and I think, don't they just poop in that? Now, don't get me wrong, I believe that we should feel good about how we look, but where is the limit? I read a really interesting psychological study that people's minds have evolved to believe that assets=wealth, even if that person has substantial debt. That basically means that even if the person is thousands of dollars in debt, if they have a nice house, nice clothes, and a nice car they're rich.  

When my parents were newly married, and my dad was going to school, they had two little girls and both worked. My mother had two jobs, my dad had one job and was a full time student, and everyday would drop their kids off at a daycare to make sure they had enough to live. My parents knew what hard work was, and because of that, many years later, their hard work has paid off to living comfortably. My parents are not wealthy, but they are very comfortable. They don't have a huge house, and when I ask why they don't build their dream house, the simple answer from my mother is that she doesn't need it, nor does she need any kind of debt. (Side note: these are the parents that used to, for family home evening, make me go over everything we had spent money on that month and mark whether it was a want or a need...) I am in awe of that, and when I look at myself all I can wait for is to have my dream house, with my dream husband, and not work for the rest of my life. 

So why am I like this? I have two theories:

1.) I have to compete against everyone, even people I love. I have to feel like I look better, richer (even though we all know that's not true), and to hide from them the fact that Scott and I do struggle.

2.) As a generation, we have become obsessed with ourselves. We love ourselves above anyone else, and for that reason have become obsessed with our appearance. Look at every social network, and how often people portray how they really feel. Rather than enjoying my life in privacy, I have to exploit every happy moment just to simply show it off.

With that I've decided that I'm going to be more realistic. I'm going to actually acknowledge my insecurities rather than hide them behind things. I'm going to let Scott dress like a scrub, and I'm going to wear cheap jeans, because in reality the only people that really care about those things is myself, and people who share this similar self-obsession.

Let me just say, I'm grateful Scott has this whole "minimal living" thing figured out. 

Anyways, here's a cute picture of Scott, because what's a blog post without a picture?