He was more than 90...

I was sitting on the couch talking on the phone when my cell phone rang. I was just updated "surgery is done. Dr Gessler said it went well. In recovery. Will let me go back in a bit. Praise! -Judy" so a pit formed quickly in my stomach when I saw it was Judy again. "Grandpa had some complications and they are coding him right now- I'm sorry, can you please call your family and let them know it doesn't look good." In a blur I called them quickly, arranging for my mother in law to come be with the girls. As Joel and I pulled into the hospital I saw mom & knew, "Grandpa's not here anymore" she said. I wont even try to explain the pain I felt, the pain I saw in mom's eyes, and the overwhelming emotions. How totally unexpected. In the matter of an hour we praised God for the surgery going well and then we wept. "Grandpa went to heaven."

I hated telling people what happened, calling work and canceling class, calling family. Because Grandpa was so amazing it hurt so bad. I knew people finding out that my 90 year old grandpa passed away wouldn't do him justice. I know even though he lived a long, full, life...none of us would ever be ready to let him go.

Some of my first memories of him were going out to eat for our birthdays. Grandma and Grandpa would always let us pick where we wanted to eat, anywhere we wanted. Of course Anne and I picked McDonalds until we grew up a little, then moved on to Ponderosa. We'd sing the whole way there and back in the car. It was my favorite thing about birthdays. I remember riding with Grandpa in his old army jeep. Grandpa drove to close to the pond and we were sucked into the mud. Of course I thought we were going under and were all going to drown. I remember his calm smile and him laughing the whole time. I remember watching Grandpa do surgeries on animals. We'd all cringe and "ewe" as he chuckled under his breath and laid all kinds of gross things out on the table in front of us. He'd let us hold the light and sit high on his chair the whole time. He treated each animal so kind and gentle. 

He was always kind, always gentle. (had to be if out of 13 grandkids he only spanked one, Joel) He played wiffle ball with us, pit, & scum. He'd lift his head, look up, and laugh his quiet laugh when everyone declined more food and Grandma piled it on anyways. 

Lately when we'd come to see Grandma and Grandpa, Grandma would be resting in her chair and Grandpa would be sitting in his rocking chair by the television, usually watching Jeopardy. He'd stand right up for hugs and say how happy he was to see everyone, always grabbing toys and playing with the great-grandkids. When we'd walk over to see Grandma, he'd smile and say "look at her, isn't she beautiful?" Almost 66 years of marriage and he treated her like a queen, ever day. 

Talking to Grandma since Grandpa passed away has blessed me so much. 

"He's my prince. I don't know how I'll live without him. He never said a cross word to me. He was soo wonderful. I didn't get to kiss him goodnight. He was my sweet heart. He would love to see his family like this, I'm so glad for my family. I loved to hear him sing when he'd sing bass. I'd sing to him in bed "let me call you sweet heart" and then we'd both sing together. He'd be here with me right now, laying, and talking about our day. He treated me so good. He made the best eggs. He was soo wonderful."

She's right. He taught us all to love. To love God, to love each other, and to love people. To respect people, to make each person feel important. To ask questions. To be ornery. That it's okay to cheat in cards, only if you don't get caught. To take care of each other. To laugh. To hug often. To stop by often. To say I love you. To live so people know you love them. He and Grandma showed us what marriage should be. Grandma's right, he was soo wonderful.

It doesn't feel right just telling people Grandpa passed away, it feels right telling them that he was so wonderful, he was so fun, he was so much to so many people. He genuinely loved everyone he met and even more loved God and served him every day. He deserves heaven. He deserves rest, good knees, and with good eyes to see God in all his glory. He deserves every bit of heaven. He was soo wonderful.

I'm kinda like that old guy.

Last Wednesday was a long day. I can't even remember why it was so long, other than running on about 3 hours of sleep & 2 grouchy children. I know I got nothing done other than surviving and making the house look like we got along just fine that day. Knowing very well that I crave Taco Bell with an unhealthy strong craving, my husband suggested we stop there on our way to youth group. Yes to no cooking. Heck yes to no spaghetti.
We had a wonderful family dinner. Instead of everyone starring at us and thinking 'poor parents of two wild toddlers' or 'what on earth are they doing with kids they cannot even control' we got looks and comments that said 'they are so cute', 'what sweet sisters', and 'you're so blessed'. [I love being reminded of how blessed we are].
On the way out, feeling wonderful with a belly full of 'sand & cheese', there was an elderly man who could barely walk carrying a cane, a bag of food, and a drink. (I couldn't help but wonder if this will be the great lengths I go through when I'm 80 to get Taco Bell). I motioned to Derrick that I'd get the girls if he would help this sweet lil man. Gladly Derrick offers to carry the mans drink and food and help him out to his car. He {Derrick} really can be charming. The man hesitates, then lets Derrick carry only his water. Holding the door for him the man carefully hobbles through. Going through the second door the girls whoop and holler because it's cold and 'hurry hurry, we want to go to 180!' so Derrick took his focus off the man to make sure I had an eye on both girls and the cars. Derricks foot that was holding the door wide open slips and the door crashes shut on this poor man, he hops and falls into the outside while of Taco Bell while dropping a few bomb words. (Seriously, knowing the man was fine, how is one not to laugh while watching?) Derrick rushes to make sure he doesn't fall, apologizing over and over, as the man swings his arm shooing him away. The man asks for his water back and is adamant about getting to his car alone. Derrick finally wins with a really sweet apology and walks the man to his car.
After hopping in the car and laughing hysterically at Derrick for shutting the door on the poor old man and the words that came out of the mans mouth I begin to think.
Derrick was doing such nice things for this man by helping him. He didn't have to. He had places to go, kids to chase, and a toasty warm car waiting. One wrong move and the man was no longer grateful for anything and wanted nothing to do with him.
I find myself in this position sometimes...I form opinions of people right off the bat. If they do anything different I write em off as someone else. I am a thankful person, I like to think I'm giving as well- but one time someone takes advantage of me, that person is no longer appreciative of anything I've ever done, or given, and I sure as heck wont do it again.
It's hard to see slip ups for slip ups, especially when it hurts, or it makes you look dumb. When it totally blindsides you it's easy to react by running your mouth and cutting yourself off from the person and situation. I hope to use this memory to remind me help me forgive and to be more grateful. I hope that when as I laugh with Derrick as we still talk about it, that I'm reminded how I act like a grumpy old man who just wants his Taco Bell.

I cringe when I think of High School....

I was a dork. I thought I was cool. I liked boys, plural. I couldn't make up my mind between other dorks, jocks, goody goodies, or the bad ones. I loved sweat pants, but I found importance in dressing 'cute' some days to get attention. I was a 'good girl' just a little 'ornery'. Outta my siblings, a little ornery landed you in the black sheep category. Everyone else was intelligent and applied themselves. They were sure about where they were and where they were heading. There were few things I was sure about.

One of the things I was sure about was my future. In my here and now of my senior year, I was going to have fun, earn the title class flirt (for some reason I was secretly proud of that) and wait patiently for my planned out future. I visited a few colleges before someone told me about one out by Chicago. Hopped on a plane, by myself, was picked of at the airport by the friend of someone who knew someone, and stayed in the dorm with that guys girlfriend. By the time I got off the plane in Chicago, I was sold. Not because of the city itself or the college at all...but because when I stepped off that plane in a huge airport and had no idea where I was going, I fell in love with the adventure. I fell in love with being independent. The college was cool, though I'm not sure it was a whole lot different than many I coulda went to in the same state. But it was farther away than any I looked at and I loved that. When I stepped off that plane I started planning the rest of my life. 

It looked like this:

I will go to college here. For journalism and broadcast news. I will fall in love with someone here, either from here or another state, one that had nothing to do with Ohio. I'll go where ever he wants to go really. Holidays would mean plane rides, I would experience airports all the time. I'd fly alone. I'd fly with a spouse. I'd fly with my kids. I'd work in sky scrappers. People would say "turn the channel to such and such, Kristen's doing the news!"

It still sounds fun to me. But obviously it happened way different. I came home after one year and started dating, not only from Ohio, but someone I knew for many many years. I fell in love, fast and hard. I ;moved home after my sophomore year and changed everything. My degree went to whatever I could get fast so I could settle down and be his wife. I got pregnant 7 months into marriage and have been a stay at home mom for three and a half years. I traded sky scrappers for silos and cornfields. Exciting business looking strangers for amish and faces I grew up with. I traded business suits for all day pj's, and my face on the news for days without seeing people at all. 

You can imagine that sometimes I feel like I've failed and let more than myself down. 

You can also imagine the light that went on last night while sitting in a room full of high schoolers, some that act just like I used to :yikes:, when Stu said "trust that God's plan for you is better than the plan you have for yourself." 

My mind immediately went back to when I was the age of most of the girls in the room. To my dreams. To my goals. To my black and white plan. I know I am right where God wants me right now. I also know I'm so far from where I ever planned I would be. Somedays are easy to trust in this plan and the path that I'm on. But days like yesterday are full of gross poop stories, hurt feelings, grouchy kids, feeling isolated, and never ending messes that no one will congratulate you for cleaning. Those days I especially need to trust God's plan for my life over the one I had.

I am a stay at home mom, helping raise the next generation. I'm worshiping every week with hearts that are wide open to love, acceptance, and God's plan for them.  I'm changing the world in sweatpants and t-shirts. And even when I'm grouchy or beat down by a career driven world, I can have a joy, a peace, because there is a plan worth trusting, and I don't have to write it. 

Spoiled Rotten No Good Brats...

and since it's my blog I can call em whatever I want to! :)

i have run into a few people who have literally had their love bought by material things. as sad as it is it grows into irresponsibility and insensitivity. people like this has no consideration for other peoples time. they have no appreciation when you bend so far over backwards for them you about snap. the words thank you never leave their lips. they can be so incredibly fun to hang out with but drive you absolutely mad. so what do you do with people like this.

coming off of my 'this is my missions field' thinking i need to just keep being a helpful hand every.single.time they ask, or don't ask, they expect. i need to be Jesus to them. i guess i need to learn to think more like Jesus.

one thing i know about Jesus- He hung out with the unlovely. i bet He loved that. the Bible says He had compassion on them. i am praying to get to that point. its.so.hard.

Let's chuck it...

Things have been crazy lately. I'm sure most of you know what's been going on in my family...anxiously awaiting a baby, a thyroid with a cyst, pre-cancerous moles, colonoscopies, potential cancerous tumor ....ahh. I mean within a week, two tops.

I've been feeling on top of the stress and emotions just the pressure to keep up. To keep a clean house, to cook dinner but first go grocery shopping, make doctor appointments, find babysitters, pay the doctor bills, find time to play and to teach, to be at 180, to reach out to kids to spend time with them, to pray for them, to clear my mind for a few short hours to be there completely. I've felt pressure to help, to do, to be, to work, to budget, and I just might explode. (I don't even want to talk about my favorite holiday, Christmas, yet.)

Last night David Gardner joined us at 180- he's a missionary to Peru. He told his story. He plays soccer with sinners, he's friends with them, tells one the gospel and it spreads. The excitement spreads. They bring people to hear. There's a picture of a whole group of people and he's touched them all. They will all be in heaven because he made sure they heard the Bible.( I don't even want to think about what my picture would look like, it'd be sad.)

He lives so normal, he has a beautiful wife, beautiful daughter, gets to play soccer, goes to church, drives a car, even carries an iphone. Yet he positions himself to win souls...he read from Matthew 9. If I could repeat his words verbatim I would.

Bear with me. He started in verse 35 explaining how Jesus spent full days helping people, healing people. That kinda makes me stressed just thinking about it...I get worn out from such minor gestures of 'help' because my schedule is strict (my fault) Mondays- laundry, tuesday clean, wednesday bills and projects, thursdays....seriously!!! who does this, week in and week out. Yet Jesus healed, not "I'm sorry, I need a shower and peace and quiet from 1-3" I'm so pathetic. Anyways...all day healing, let me help you vision who he was helping....a women with a bleeding problem, lepers- gross seeping wounds, dying flesh, people throwing themselves at Him every where He turned. Verse 35 tells us that he went about all the cities...healing every sickness and every disease among the people. 36 But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion on them, BECAUSE they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd. 

NOT because they stunk, or were dirty, or gross, or starving....but because they were lost and dying with no shepherd. *Dear self, you need to see people differently*

Secondly he pointed out that vs 37 says "the harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few". Asking the questions "what is the harvest? when you go to harvest do you take seeds with you?" Nope, the fields are done being worked, the seeds were planted, grew and now need harvested. All God is asking for is harvesters. To love and lead people to Him.

Seeing David's pictures last night and reading these simple verses I began to dream, to let my mind wander. 

He caught my attention closing with verse 38 "Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest" 

Sure, I can sit here in my comfy house, fire place lit because it's a little chilly, listening to music on the big ol' tv and pray God would send someone.  I also need to remember that God came to save the world and as of today, my mission field is here. I need to reach out and love my brothers and sisters in Christ, but if that is all I am ever doing I am not adding to His Kingdom. Find sinners, find people who are different, who talk different, dress different, smell different and love them. That's my goal. Position myself with 'sinners'.

I will pray that the Lord sends someone, but while I'm sitting here typing about all the stress and struggles in life, I would be lying if I didn't admit I pray that maybe just maybe God uses the Zahners in a bigger plan, in a picture that's just a little bigger than the picture I can see. 

Today my stomach turns, nothing will solve the physical problems in my family, nothing will fix the hurt from missing such a huge part of our family from cancer, financial stress, and the stress of just not having enough time in the day...but it helps to dream...what would it be like to just 'chuck it all' and head outta here?

It's been awhile...

I'm babysitting: Maci is the sweetest little thing, fast asleep on my chest. Mia, going down for a late nap, is asleep upstairs, and me...decided I should update. It's been long overdue. 

I only have so long to update, there's Park Street Pizza on the way. One thing that never ceases to make me happy. 

I'm not sure what's going on. I haven't physically felt 100% for awhile so I decided to look into it. Sweet little nurse does blood work because my thyroid felt large, totally bruised the heck outta me. I lived. Had an ultrasound done on my thyroid that showed a small cyst. One doctor says to see a enda-chron-ologist and get more blood work. One doctor says it's a small cyst and the first set of blood work looked good so see no specialist and do no more blood work...just go back in 6 months for another ultrasound. Seriously- get on the same page. 

So I decided- rather to be safe than sorry? Trust doctor B and save a pretty penny? 

Secondly someone else in our family is having testing done and it's not looking pretty. It kinda puts my teeny lil cyst to shame actually. 

All the while we wait for baby Herman. He/she was much anticipated to come yesterday but the lungs weren't developed so there is a c-section scheduled for the 22nd. I was so wanting to hold a sweet lil baby in the midst of life right now, but I will wait. I'll keep praying for it. And when we get to hold him/her- it will be a million times worth it. 

On the other hand- we just had a missions conference at church. Now, for the last two years, I leave it praying 'okay I'll go, or I'll stay, but please make it reeeeaaallly really clear'. My question to Derrick was "does everyone sit in these messages thinking they are being called, or wondering if they are, or am I thinking that because we're being called and I'm to dumb to realize it?" I didn't get an answer. He just said I shouldn't wonder what everyone else is thinking. Ooooh boy, I guess I'll keep wondering but hiding it...haha. 

I love missions conferences, it puts life into perspective. Every where should be your field. And the coolest thing I learned and was reminded of was that missions starts here. now. And to be content with where God has you. Also when God shuts a door- not a bad thing. I'll have to dwell on that later. It was such a wonderful week. It's pizza time and I am so very hungry. 

Sorry this was random: I will try to get back into blogging again. I'll look for interesting topics :)

I'm annoying:

You know like one of those really annoying people who isn't 100% anything.

I'm realizing now that to the fitness world, I might be just that...annoying. I like to work out with people. I just started teaching TurboKick and the first night I fought back tears. I didn't have fun and I messed up about a ba-jillion times. I wanted to tell the girls to get their money back, I can't teach, and I wont. Last night, however, I had fun, I was able to laugh or move on without making it noticeable when I biffed, and I had a blast. The girls in the class are so much fun and it's a good workout. I hate running. I love how I feel when I'm done. I do not diet. Yuck. I like grease to much. That annoys healthy people- to see you work out and then eat like that. It's annoying to not healthy people who eat like you to see you work out. Sittin in the middle of two extremes. It's annoying.

So my dilemma comes when I become a certified fitness instructor and it's automatically assumed that, duh- she eats good and is totally interested in shakes, bars, pills, and dieting. Because who cares enough to teach fitness but not enough to eat right?

To be fair- I've given them a try. I did a trial of Zija, a 3 day cleanse of Shakeology,  a 'spark' of AdvoCare. I've heard great things about all of them. 

I liked Zija- kinda. I'm a weird texture person and the drink gagged me. I don't like taking pills and hot tea that makes me poop- ehh. I did it for a week and noticed elevated energy levels- I went a whole day with no coffee. That is huge. But coffee is so.very.much cheaper. I've been told you have to do it for 30 days before you feel the total effects- but where I am in life I don't want to jeopardize $250ish to 'see if it works'. And if it does, I don't want to spend even a hundred dollars a month to gag down a drink and take pills and drink tea (really I'm not knocking Zija, I'm knocking my commitment to it and my lack of connection with it). I'm not obese and I don't have prescriptions to be saved from- so I passed on Zija.
Shakeology I liked. It doesn't taste bad, it's chocolate- how bad could it be? I wasn't  hungry with replacing meals with it, and I lost weight. A good amount for a 3 day cleanse even. I've debated sticking with it, replacing a meal a day with a shake- or doing it Mon- Fridays and loving my weekends...I dunno- here I am: annoying, not 100%. It's a little over $100 a month...eek. I'm a cheapo- can I buy it with a dented box? Perhaps spilled and scooped back up? just kidding. Just cheap. That's me. 

AdvoCare- I have nothing bad to say about. I only had one drink and I was not feeling good, at all, when I drank it. I drank it on my way to teach my second TurboKick class ever- where with cramps, a sore throat, and feeling light headed teaching seemed impossible. I chugged it- it says it helps with focusing and I'm sold on it. I had so much energy that even not feeling good I made it through the workout, home for bed time routines, and til midnight. I learned it's great- but don't drink it at 7pm. This I might invest it, what more could a mother of two toddlers ask for? Their energy in a bottle? I'd say it's comparable. I'm not sure about the other products they make, but I just might be willing to try them. I cringe, cuz I'm strong willed and I don't give into products- but energy is hard to turn down. This is much cheaper (I have not compared all the other stuff they sell) but I can get a box for $22ish and a tub of it for only $50 something. We shall see.

Either way- I just don't commit to things like that. Then of course people want you to sell it so they make money off of you selling underneath them and you can make money and... there is no nice way to say it. I don't like pushy people. One such product is full of pushy sales people- I'm sick of it. Just because I'm so stubborn and "well if you don't leave me alone I'll..." I refuse to let it hit my tongue. Because I feel like it's ridiculous that people attach Bible verses to it- seriously? SERIOUSLY? Because you can't post anything on facebook about a sore back, or being tired, or feeling a cold coming on without someone saying "you need (need, urk) this product! it's all natural, it's a miracle (i was going to try to leave this word out, annoyance crawls) it will solve all you're problems and cure your daughter of...." eeerrrchh- stop right there- someone told my friend it would cure her daughter. I need to get off this subject. I feel like the news station where they say "we report, you decide". I report. You decide. 

I'm going to leave this subject all together before I get into trouble- I love dearly people who sell products. I see nothing wrong with making a living. Please don't be annoying. Just live it, use it, look great, feel great, and when people ask- calmly tell them it worked for you. (kinda like being a Christian, don't make it look annoying. Another subject for another soap box day)

I will close with the world ending tomorrow. If it does- how the heck did this man find it out? If not, strike 3? Will he stop predicting? And shouldn't Christians live everyday as if the world were ending tomorrow? And if you're not a Christian- do you believe in the rapture still? I say if you're freaking out, research. Find reason to either freak out enough to change, or find reasons not to freak out. I dunno. 

I do believe there will be a rapture, so the fear of the unknown rides up in me. How does 'forever' really work? Everything I know, and have ever known will or could end- I don't get words like 'eternal' and 'forever'. They make my head hurt if I lay in bed and try to think of something never, ever, ending. I'm sure, SURE I wont be scared once I know- but I can't grasp it, and it's my human response that cannot wrap my brain around it. It's comfortable when things are familiar. I'm sure it'll be a heck of a lot more comfortable when they don't end though. 

Do I think this man can predict the rapture? Nope. But I want to be ready if it is tomorrow. Or if it's the next day. Or if it's not for 10 or 50 more years, I want to live my life in a way I'm ready. I believe no one knows when the rapture will happen- so why not be ready? Or no rapture- what about a car wreck? Don't you want to die ready? Maybe not. I dunno. But why let a guy who's not been right yet freak you out worse than a book that's been right before...so when it says no one will know...I believe It.  

There's my annoying rant. Don't, please, be offended if you sell stuff- I like stuff- I buy stuff. Stuff makes everyone happy. It's just my opinion. It's just my blog. Don't let it ruin your day :)

Mother's Day

I wanted to blog about being a mom on Mother's Day.
I wanted to blog about those who don't have their mothers anymore. Or those who've lost a child. That I cannot imagine.
I wanted to warn some newly pregnant friends. I wanted to jump for joy all over facebook because they are going to be moms- and join the 'there is nothing better song'. But I couldn't.
I know what it's like to be a mom to Ryse and Symira. That's it. I don't know what it's like in any other mother's shoes.
So often I was told "I wouldn't trade it for anything"...and I think I'm starting to get it. (because for the last 3 years, I honestly.didn't.always get it.)
For a while- there were many things I would trade it for. Why? Being a mom hurts.
Physically- pregnancy, labor, nursing *ugh*, your back from carrying extra weight, extra weight that cries.
Emotionally- no sleep, no time to even sort your emotions for months on end. Only the screaming of someone, right in your face, telling you what they need, or leaving you guessing. Giving you no silence long enough to shower AND think. Or think AND eat. Pick one.
Socially- I cherish meals with friends, minus kids. To talk, to laugh, to eat hot food.
Is being a mom the worst thing ever? Nope. "I wouldn't trade it for anything". Because it's fun? Nope. Because I'm always overflowing with love for my kids? Working on it. Because it's made my marriage a million times better? It's a lie. :P
I'm learning why.
Because once you learn to love like a parent loves a child, your perspective on absolutely everything changes. Even things you wish wouldn't change, like the color of yogurt you'll buy, or where you'll hide the box of cookies so you can save them for a quiet minute. Things that used to be a big deal lose their excitement- things that used to be annoying become oddly 'adorable' or 'yucky'. You become 'one of them'.
The answer to 'Why?' comes when you're sitting beside a hospital bed realizing what you could have so easily lost. It comes when you're getting a splinter out of a tiny little foot, covering it with an Elmo band aid, and holding a sobbing child- holding back tears of your own. It comes when you walk into a door after being gone for a short time, eyes light up, and you get one of those reuniting hugs that you seen in airports. It comes when you pull the blankets up under her chin and she yawns and whispers 'I lub yer guts Momma'.
They become your purpose- so when you try to imagine life without them it becomes impossible. And a life with a purpose is something I wouldn't trade for anything.

While riding in the car just today I wanted to blog the "I'm so tired, I'm spinning my wheels, I'm getting no where in this life" saga...and just like someone knew what I needed to hear, it came on a free cd I got for Mother's Day and popped in but never turned the volume up. Just when I spent too much money on a motor for a car window. Just when I bought a coffee at 7pm to make it til 9- this song came on.
Please, mothers, read every lyric- buy the cd and be a cheesy emotional wreck with me:


One Heartbeat At A Time -Steven Curtis Chapman
You're up all night with a screaming baby
You run all day at the speed of life
And every day you feel a little bit less
Like the beautiful woman you are

So you fall into bed when you run out of hours
And you wonder if anything worth doing got done
Oh, maybe you just don't know
Or maybe you've forgotten

You, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

With every "I know you can do it"
Every tear that you kiss away
So many little things that seem to go unnoticed
They're just like the drops of rain over time
They become a river

And you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

You're beautiful
You're beautiful
How you're changing the world
You're changing the world


Seriously- listen to it, it's way better than reading this.

Happy Mother's Day to my fellow sleep deprived, tear kissing, beautiful history changing mothers.

A Non-Poop Inducing Cleanse

Last night while sitting at the dinner table sitting in front of a funny smelling salad, Derrick and I had to laugh. What are we doing? Why would we do any kind of cleanse for any amount of time? We're stupid. That's the only conclusion we could come to.
Sure the idea of less bloating and losing weight sounds good to everyone. I'm not sure there are two people who love food and snack more than the two of us. I'm beginning to think that the real reason I got into this was to show me my love of food and my dependence on it. It's become a part of my everyday routine. When I get accomplished what I had set aside for that day during nap time, I end nap time with sitting on the couch alongside of a bag of chips, cookies, or bummel cheese (what Ryse calls Cheese Puffs) and pop or coffee. Or if I'm just having a no good rotten day- I take the whole nap time and dedicate it to food.
I hope you can hear the laughter in my voice, the me making fun of myself. I'm not confessing any sins (or should I be?) or anything like that here...it's all fun.
I really do joke about my love for food a lot. I talk about food a lot. I think about food a lot. I have a great appreciation for good wings, pizza, chips, cookies, chocolates, double cheeseburgers, and I'm the most excited when I reach my hand into my McDonald's bag and the fries are so hot it hurts your fingers and they are so salty it burns any cold sore instantly.
Because of this dang cleanse, I've realized my jokes are rooted in truth. I love food. Do I feel guilty about it? Nope. I don't think I'm a gluten or anything.
I am enjoying this cleanse simply for the reason that it is different, and it's 3 days of being extreme for me. This is not who I am. Apples aren't me. Healthy shakes? I laughed at people spending money on these. Salads? As a good friend says "salads are the promise that the real food is coming." I couldn't agree more. But it's been fun, kinda. It's been challenging (sitting at McDonalds with mom and the girls, eating not one bite). And it's been rewarding. I really do feel good, and I've lost about 3lbs in a day and a half and Derricks about 2lbs a head of me (of course). Halfway done!
Anyway...I just thought it was funny and it was on my mind when I opened my blog to catch up reading, so I thought I'd share. If you're interested in a cleanse, this is the one I'd recommend. I don't think I've pooped once since I started (sorry, TMI) but who wants to poop for a solid week? Not me. The shakes aren't horrible. And it's only 3 days, who wants to diet or anything for longer than that? Me either. It's not $200 like some I saw and it seems to be working. Check, check, check.
Results to come when it's finished. And seriously- if this sounds riciculous to you, lets clink our double cheeseburgers for a cheers. And if you're interested, I'll give you  my 'suppliers' name- she rocks and this stuff is so good for you.

I realize at times like this how weird I am. I'm so contradicting. 

It's called fat, dumb, and happy. Happy is good.

I want it all...

Cookies. Double cheeseburgers.  Pizza every night.
To look good. To feel good. To be able to go go go.
To relax. Put my feet up. Catch up on the 21 new Ellen episodes on my DVR.
Have a clean house. Mopped floors. Dusted shelves.
To go away with Derrick. To travel.
To snuggle on the couch and watch game shows.
Alone time. Peace. Quiet.
Parties. Friends over. Food. Games. All the time.
To play with the girls. Bake cardboard cakes. "Cheers" a plastic tea cup.
To set them in front of the television and beg them for quiet.
To Turbo. To run. To run far.
To sit. To breath. To not sweat.
To eat apples. Grapes. Salads.
Extra cheese and salad dressing. More cookies. Potato Chips.
To read books. Parenting ones. Marriage ones. Bible studies. Novels. All of them, at once.
To sleep. Hours on end. Uninterrupted.

None is bad. To much one of one, is.
So many people only workout. Or only eat. Or only play. Or only beg the television to babysit. Perhaps they entertain and never enjoy a quiet night at home. Or they always sit, ignoring friends and invites. Or only read, and never watch junk on television.

Balance means you're better at life then some, and worse at it than others. I cannot want to be the best at everything and have balance.
Some call it settling for second place. I call it beating third.

I threw my random thoughts into a pot...

and it makes sense to me.
Sometimes things just coincidently fall into my lap...

This is so cool to me.
Dream Big
I hope they get $50,000.

I was just thinking about Negative Nancy(s). You know the people who complain all.the.time. I have no problem with someone admitting something sucks, struggling with something, or just complaining. My problem comes when the complaining is more than a complaint. It's a lot of 'a complaint's. They are so.very. whiny.
They whine because they are lonely. They find someone. That someone isn't good enough.
They want to have children. They get pregnant. They complain, day in, day out. It's all they do. I'm okay with complaining, I had AWFUL pregnancies. But remember, God has blessed you with precious life. Be thankful. At least once.
The baby is born- they want sleep. They want independence.
They think they're fat. They work out. Their sore and tired...all over facebook.
They want out of the house. It's raining. They're wet.
They want money. It's not enough.
They want 'the car', it breaks down.
You get my drift- Negative Nancy complains no matter what.
(I feel like I need to specify complaining is not wrong, in my opinion, but when it never stops it's so.very.wearing on the world around you. You are hurting yourself by feeling sorry for you. I also feel like I need to specify there are things that are very normal to complain about, even ones listed above, especially some listed above- and I think those who know me well, know it's not them I'm talking about, I am not 'good friends' with Negative Nancy(s), I flee them)
I've recently been challenged on two things.
one. Confront sin. Love and care for the sinner.  (hmmm...I think we can all put this on a sticky note on our mirrors)
two. Quit complaining. Intentionally look for someone who has it worse than me (believe me, this is possible for everyone reading here). Do something. Make a dinner. Make a phone call. Babysit a kid, or 3. Send an envelope with cash. $5 for a McDonald's pick me up. $100 for an electric bill. Chances are good we'll still eat next week.


What about the family from the above link- is $10 going to put you in the poor house? I thought "uh- I'd have to go get my debit card and put the info in and I never win and...." and, and, and I'll never meet these people. BUT, God brought them to my attention. Someone who is doing something great, and taking a risk, a $33,000 risk. If I'm not willing to risk, why not support a risk?
You can risk $10, at least.
Not because "Kristen gave a motivational speech" (not what I want this to be), but because you can take one step towards doing something good for someone, and for a few minutes, not thinking about how bad of state your bills are in, your house is in (who doesn't have 3 baskets of laundry at least to fold right now?), or how much time it would take.
Next- find someone else to help.

This is a message to me. It's my goal. It's who I want to be. I want to take risks for people, friends, strangers. I want to quit worrying about everyday things, one.step.at.a.time...

Check. Kinda.

Thick fog.
Full tank of gas. 
Pipin hot coffee.
Car to myself. 
Blasting music. 
My choice.
Singing.
Loudly.


Nervous. 
Familiar face.
Punch. Kick.
Sweat.
Lunch with a new friend.
Sweat. 
Test.


Hot sun.
Diet coke.
Car to myself.
Music. 
My choice.
Muscles. Dead.


Bucket list #9:
Check.
Kinda. 
Gotta find a place to teach.


(#9: Become a certified Turbo Kick instructor. Leading to finding a place to teach at convenient hours to still be home most of the time. Exercise. Work. Fun. All in one)

You can be sure no employee of Union Hospital has TB...its ridiculous how many times I have to drive down there for a stupid Tb test. If I were a nurse or had contact with all those sick people I would consider it less of a waste of my time. If they weren't annoying and would let me get it done when I was already down there, that would help too. When I'm done working there we'll have a 'no more 80 million TB tests because their records suck' party. 
That is my 'I have a complaint but won't post it on Facebook because people comment if I post too much' thought of the day.

Next post will be more upbeat, I promise.

Thought of the day.

Sometimes I'm just irritated. I have high expectations for people. I think highly of people. I hold them to the standard I think they could live up to. I need to quit letting them let me down, erase expectations, and worry about me.

I'm emotional.

I don't like it. I'm a cry baby. Now that that is out of the way...
God answers prayers. My brother was told he had melanoma, exactly what my dad passed away from. We were hopeful that they caught it early and with a small surgery, hopefully no treatments, he'd be good as gold. But really, how do you block out everything that happened to dad. How sick he was. How awful the cancer was. It was torture waiting til his appointment.
We were praying like crazy. I'm not sure about the rest of my family, but I kept praying that it wouldn't even be an early stage cancer, I wanted it to be nothing. No cancer. Regardless of what the nurse called the cancer on the phone, regardless of what the biopsy said, regardless of what anything sensible would say, I wanted it to be nothing. A friend and I were just discussing that maybe we don't see God work because we don't look. Maybe we don't pray specifically enough to see an specific answer. Maybe we don't think highly enough of God to ask for the biggest outcome. So I thought I'd give it a wing. I know god doesn't always say yes. But yesterday, He did.
My brother called beaming, I teared up, so stinkin hopeful. "I got good news!" I seriously cry just typing it. It's not cancer. He didn't know why the nurse told him melanoma. The doctor called it something else, I can't remember, I couldn't focus. He explained that it was bad, but wasn't cancer and wouldn't spread. So they took out the area around where everything was, sent him on his way, scheduling nothing more than his yearly check ups. Are you serious? Not an early stage cancer? Not few or none treatments? Nothing? Specifically what I prayed for. Call me crazy, I'm beaming. I'm reminded of so much. God doesn't always say yes, but He doesn't always say no either (which is where I was feeling like life was).

Secondly- and a little less exciting :) Mia went to her ENT appointment today. I had been pumped and decided to pray the same for her. No surgery. No fluid in her ears. Nothing. I didn't get yes, and I didn't get no. I'll take that. She has fluid in her ears and there is pressure on her ear drums. It's affecting her hearing and antibiotics aren't helping. They are putting her on an oral steroid and a nose mist (should be fun) steroid hoping that her ears will pop, relieving the pressure and letting the fluid drain on its own, without surgery to put tubes in. So we try these medicines and go back in a month. I just didn't want to go and schedule a surgery- I'm not settled yet on letting Union do her surgery. I'm an opinionated, I hold grudges at hospitals that screw us over, don't touch my child again, mother :)

I hate being emotional, but I guess it comes with the territory. I blame it on the hormones that never ever even think about going back to normal after you have a baby. No one warned me about those.

So much else going on too, church was so cool last night. Talking about schedules, where you cheat time, how you balance family, work, self, God...whatever. So much I want to change to open time in my life and get rid of stress and have some fun. You know me, Kristen 'I wanna have fun' Zahner.

I wear a smile...

even when my heart is heavy.
Today I will take a step in the right direction. I cannot say everything, I cannot answer every question. If you know, you were meant to, if you don't, you may find out. Don't ask.
It's my blog though, I will unload here.
Recently we found out that someone very, very close to me received news about their health. Not good news. Not the worst news. We find out more this week. I haven't been able to think straight since last Friday. It reminds me of dad. Except dad was farther along. His was bad. Obviously. We were hopeful, we were crushed. Friday brought a rush of emotions I was not ready to handle, but apparently God is. I'm not good at letting Him. I suck at trusting, even if it's God apparently. Trust issues- a whole other issue. It was a very busy weekend, Friday I worked at the Kids Stuff Sale (you should go if you haven't, link), Saturday was my birthday (without complaining, it was possible my least favorite. I will blog about this, I am thankful for the lunch and dinner, I swear. They were needed, much needed), Sunday was shopping at the sale, working at the sale, getting home at nine, bedtime for the girls, exhausted...you get it. Monday I tried to clean, I fought the girls, I found them playing with dirty potty water (gag, I know). I gave up and played. Went on a walk. Ate tacos.
Today I will take time to think, time to pray, time to cry. Maybe I wont. Maybe I'll make it a day to distract just me. But I will think about me for a few hours. My friend took the girls. I love that she saw a need and jumped in. As if she isn't busy enough being a mother to her 6 children. I will get off of here, run until I can't run anymore, lay in a hot bath, maybe put laundry away, or maybe skip that and jump into laying in bed, no noise, and sleeping. Or to be honest, crying. I believe in good cries. I hate it because it sounds cheesy, but it takes hundreds of pounds off my shoulders.
I am reminded that having a heavy heart is not just a saying, it feels heavy. It hurts. I haven't been real with anyone but my husband for the last 5 days, which is not easy. I wear a smile. It fits, it's more fun.

Things I wish I could blog about

but haven't had the time...

•last weeks church service
•this weeks church service
•hoity-toits
•spoiled people
•our new car, old but more efficient than the big orange truck...up for sale.
•the earthquakes
•helping others who are or aren't helping themselves, the difference
•bad words
•my running hatred is fading...I am really enjoying running in rain
•my hopefully updated bucket list, hoping to cross things off
•I will be 26, that sounds old to me, 25 seemed young
•a new cool recipe
•tounge biting, literally and figuratively, there is a big bruise on my tongue
•"I have the pants on, but I have both legs in one hole" by my husband & why
But now I'm hungry and it is time to sleep, it is past time to sleep.

I.hate.running.

I hate getting ready to run. I hate actually running. I hate showering. 

(To clarify, I just don't like the process of getting wet- I do love to be clean and I shower daily, to the point where I will shower at midnight to not miss a day, I just hate getting wet)

Yesterday morning I was running and decided I was going to take my time, not watch how long it took me, but to see how far I could go. Just me on the treadmill, running 'towards' a cement brick wall and 2 monitors, music blasting in my ears.

I began thinking of so many things that are going on in my life. I ran to the beat of the music but my brain was so far away. Words of a friend bounced back and forth in my head. I smiled. A situation of another friend stewed. Tears fell from my eyes. My chest hurt for their family. Threats of defeat from friends at work bounced around too. Threats that their team could beat our team. I have to prove them wrong. The fact that I have yet to run more than two miles...pushed harder. Sweat dropped. I thought of our discussion at church the night before, pushed that out, I hate being convicted to change something (semi sarcastic). Thoughts of future goals said to keep running, push harder, and it will be worth it. The number on the treadmill hit two miles, I felt great. Physically and emotionally I felt good. I was going to go for three, I laughed at thinking maybe I'd just keep running, 2 more, or 3 more.. I was going to beat my recent two mile run. The lights on the monitor jumped. She woke up. Reality hit. I was back in a cement basement, watching monitors, needing to rush and stand in water (eerk) to be clean. 

Just when I thought maybe running wasn't so bad, maybe I could do it, maybe I could think about liking it I was snapped back into why I hate running.

I hate being interrupted, I hate being snapped out of 'me time', I hate feeling like I'm going to die, I hate competing against me.

Running is just that. Competing against yourself. I'm competitive. and I drive myself nuts.

If this does or doesn't make sense, let's just know, I don't like running.

What's it like to be Married to Me?

by Linda Dillow
Yep, it's a book. I bought it. And we laughed when I did. However, just by reading the cover and flipping through I feel like I've had my eyes opened to a few things. It's kinda a weird question to ask yourself. "What's it like to be married to me?" I found a page while flipping through it that asked questions about what your husband comes home to, how much fun you are, and the awkward "what's it like to have sex with me?" question.
We are not the couple that acts like
she belongs in the kitchen
he makes money
she bathes the children
he reads the paper
she keeps her mouth shut
he speaks and it happens
Actually if you know us, these would make you laugh. We are more
she stays home with the kids
he works hard
then
she goes to work part time
he stays with the kids part time
we bathe the children
we don't even get the paper
she bakes
he helps clean it up
we speak, we either agree, or we argue then we compromise
we're a team.
It works for us. But it's hard with busy, with work, with running errands, with 'me' time, with kids, with sleepless nights, with no alone time together, with a cluttered house, with spending time with friends...we get tense.
I'm excited to read this book, I will keep you posted. I can tell you one thing...I wouldn't want to be married to me. I'm tired. I'm jittery on coffee when I'm not sleeping. I live in clothes big enough for a 3,000 lb man. I eat like a pig. I love me time, a lot. I'm independent. I love getting flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts. I can be a brat. I have been a brat.
My new goal. I want to be fun to come home to. I want the house to smell like meat, vegies, and potatoes. Or maybe cookies. Or bread. Or smell clean. Or it can stink, if people are laughing. I want to first tell a funny story before I fall into a hug and moan about the energy a two year old has. I want to go bowling together. Running together. Laugh a lot.
Unfortunately it only focuses on being married to 'me', not what kind of person do you want to be married to. Guess I'll work on me :) instead of my husband. Let's be honest- we are the only person we can change. Just being reminded that if I work on me, we can both be happier :) Now...time to read!

A few quotes from the book:
"One woman has enthusiasm for 30 minutes, another for 30 days, but it is the woman who has it for 30 years who makes a success of her marriage."
"Every job is a self-portrait of the person who did it. Autograph your work as a wife with excellence." I like this one.
"I am a big believer in the mirror test. All that matters is if you can look in the mirror and honestly tell the wife you see there, that you've been faithful" -also talks about asking the wife you see if you did your part in marriage. Focusing on you.

Things that can go to hell....

skinny jeans.

loud cars.

cell phones. 

nebulizers.

socks with holes.

money.

snot.

empty coffee containers.

bills.

laundry.

diapers.

scary tv shows.

loofas.

treadmills.

oh yes, treadmills for sure will go to hell.

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I've been 'simply' inspired...

I've found two new blogs I'm following and I have been spending way to much time reading them love them. They are cool moms, & they are creative. Simple crafts. Not-so simple crafts. But they are fun, and they are cool.

I started off small. Burp-clothes. Why not. I have the material. I have the babies to sew for (2 pregnant 'sisters').

Project one: Burp Cloth tutorial from Homemade by Jill

It was the perfect one day project, for a snowy day, with hot chocolate. I'm planning on using them for gifts to take to the hospital, complete with another project I'm about to try. I'll try and post pics of that too....I need to pick up some ribbon.

Here are my burp clothes. They are so soft and I used the fabric we had at Erin's baby shower. Cool to have a piece of your baby shower for your baby...or so I think it is.

perfect is boring.

A lot has been going through my head lately- lots about parenting. To be honest, I never thought about it before Ryse was born. I just saw happy little couples with their kids dressed to a tee out bee-bopin around like the rest of the world. I didn't see how long it took them to get out of the house, how many outfits were changed 5 minutes after they should have left, how many hours of sleep that mom didn't get, and how many spankings that adorable little girl got that week. I didn't see the mom and dad fighting over rules, or how to spank, or how clean a house should be with kids, or what money they should use to buy clothes, diapers, and pay hospital bills. I just saw an adorable family, smiling. (Probably smiling because they finally got out of the house.)

So here I am. Two little girls. 1 and 2. Adorable. Hilarious. Ornery. Disobedient. Attitudes. They say their mommy's girls. They want to cuddle with me when they're tired. They giggle at each other. They get excited to see the other one. They hit. They bite. They throw things. They don't sleep all night. They drive me crazy. They are my everything and if something should happen to either one, I'd rather die.

When we hang out with people 9 times out of 10 their kids are calmer. They obey faster. They eat better. I could compare all day. But I'm learning...that gets me no where but frustrated. Today I had lunch with my mom. Both girls were fussy and getting louder and louder. She wasn't bothered by it at all, but after a while she leans over to Symira and imitates her whiny scream. Please tell me you used to do that to us when we were little. She did. She lost her mind some days. She had the girls laughing so hard about 5 minutes later while bouncing them on the couch. She told stories how she used to do that to us when we were little. I so bad wish I could watch her when we were little. I'd do exactly what she did.

We didn't have a long list of rules. We weren't allowed to say shut up. We weren't allowed to hurt each other. We weren't allowed to fight. We were allowed to make a pile of pillows and blankets at the top of the stairs and tumble all the way down, arms and legs everywhere. We were allowed to all wear football pads and have at it. We were allowed to take our dishes outside to make mud pies. We even filled the basement with water and slid around in our swimsuits in it (I remember something very similar in the bathroom). I'm not sure what we were allowed to do that, but I'm 99% sure we didn't get spanked for it. We cleaned Saturdays, the rest of the week, we made messes. We had fun.

In high school I had curfews with boyfriends. No curfew with friends. My single mother, working more than a full time job, was so tired she never knew when we came home. I was never criticized for grades. I went to all the dances with who I wanted to. I don't remember ever being grounded (not to say it didn't happen). I remember watching mom cry because I disappointed her, I hurt her feelings, or she was exhausted from arguing with me. I remember sitting at the end of the bed with her devotional open and she showed me how the decisions I was making were going to kick me in the butt later. I watched her succeed. I watched her fail. I followed her.

We were disobedient sometimes. We obeyed sometimes. We were sometimes the good kids, sometimes the bad. We weren't the smartest, we weren't the dumbest. We excelled in some areas. Some not. We sat in detentions. We were at every youth group activity & loved it. We had big opinions. This is what I want for my girls. Not to be the best at everything, but find one or two things you love and pour yourself into it. To love everyone...the popular kids, and the 'losers'. Not to strive for perfection, but to strive to be unique. To have an opinion. To be ornery but upright.

Today was so good for me. To be reminded of how I was raised. It wasn't perfect. It was balanced.

It wasn't perfect. It was balanced. I hope my girls say that someday.

Little toot turns one.

I know, I'm biased. 

Digging in.

Cleanin up, Derrick said he had her

beside the sink and she crawled in. 

Resolutions or Bucket Lists?

I'm combining mine. I decided instead of doing new years resolutions, which never work, I'm turning them into my bucket list. It's kinda the same thing, except it doesn't have that annoying 'no one keeps them anyway' ring to it like resolution. 

You see, I like my bucket list. It's exciting. It's things I want to do. It's things that are worth working toward. 

So far my bucket list includes:

1. Bob for apples. Sadly, I've never done this, but it sounds fun. I'd like it to be competitive, not just me, alone with a bucket and apples. 

2. Meet Ellen DeGeneres. I'd prefer more than an autograph, I'd like to have a conversation. She's interesting. One of the most generous people I know. I want to be that generous with the things I have. Time, emotion, prayer, etc. (not my millions of dollars :P )

3. Skydive. I'd like to go with my husband.

4. Dance with Derek Hough. He's a phenomenal dancer. Plus I wanna learn to ball room dance. 2 birds, one stone.

5. Spend an entire 24 hours in a hotel, by myself, with a book and a swimming suit.

6. White water raft in Colorado. We honeymooned there, it would be fun to go back and instead of ski, raft. 

7. Get a professional makeover in a big city, clothes suggestions accepted, not throwing away my sweats.

8. Learn to ice skate, more than forward and around and around a rink. 

I've added....

9. Become a certified Turbo Kick instructor. Leading to finding a place to teach at convenient hours to still be home most of the time. Exercise. Work. Fun. All in one.

10. Spending a day alone with Ryse, a day alone with Symira, a day alone with Derrick every year. Doing something special. Paying attention to them as individuals- remembering why I love them for them. 

They aren't resolutions...they are more than a year, and they are fun.

A peek at Christmas

 I came home from work to find this.

This makes me smile. 

The fact that I could sit and take multiple pictures

without either one waking was wonderful.

The sweet 'lul lu mommy' [love you mommy]

in a soft whisper as I carried her upstairs.

Priceless. Good start to Christmas break.

Merry Christmas from Ryse & Symira.

A new favorite toy in the new toy room.