Here we go again

Well, hello old friends. We Felds have big news. Late August of this year, we are relocating to the Bay Area of California! We have only been in SLC for a year, but moving back for that time has allowed me to complete my Masters in Marriage and Family Therapy (I will graduate in the midst of the move), and has given us the chance to spend time with dear friends and family. It was so worth the time we spent in Utah, but my love has received a wonderful business opportunity out west, so it is time to start prepping for the next major change. Maybe we will even settle down this time!

A random picture with Christopher best goat friend.

Help us write our Utah bucket list! If you had just a few months to do and see the best things in Utah, what would they be? Gold star for the best answer! 

Ice Cream Is Self Care

If I ever wrote a book about being a therapist, I am pretty sure the title would be "Ice Cream is Self Care: Buy a treadmill fatty."  For those dear readers who are not therapists, self care is the time therapists take to shake off all that we hear each day. Self care is the rituals we have to unwind and allow  the problems of others to roll of of us at the end of the day. The therapists that go nuts and hate their jobs are typically the ones who don't tend to themselves. Today is an ice cream sort of day.

I love what I do. I am such a nerd for therapy. I am constantly reading articles, watching classic therapists, and doing my best to be a better therapist for my clients. Today was a tough one though. It wasn't so much the clients, it was more about life outside of therapy and learning how to shake it all off at the end of the day. 

The hardest part of being a counselor is being surrounded by divorce, pain, and strife. When recovering from surgery and a move, it was harder to be in that pain, in and out of session. When you find out a friend is going through a divorce 5 minutes before session, and before your next session you hear your beloved hard drive is dead, and then meet a couple that you know will help you grow, how do you wash it all off? ICE CREAM.

After such a hard day, I am so happy to come home to my sweet Christopher roasting brussle sprouts and green beans in balsamic vinegar. We watched a hilarious stand up, ate ice cream/ vegan mousse, and held each other. I can't tell him much about my day, just that it was hard. Ice cream and my husband makes it better.

Today was hard, but coming home reminded me why I do what I do. Marriage can be tough, but it is usually worth saving. Divorce is right for some couples, but for most couples it doesn't make life better, it just makes it harder. You have to fight as if your life depends on it to save your marriage before you can let go of all those hopes and dreams, and no one should have to do that alone. If I can help a couple to create a better marriage for themselves, it would make it all worth it. I have needed help to be who i am today, and I love helping others live better. I just need my husband and some ice cream to do it.

An Ode to my Husband

At three in the morning, you convince me to finally go to sleep in our bed, vowing to help me at any moment. You were so tired, but so worried. You wish to hold me, yet you fear touching me for you may graze the cuts in my belly. Hours later, you leap to your feet to gather my pills, yogurt, water, and ice packs. Pulling me out of bed and walking me to the restroom,  you smile and tease as always. Every few hours, you force me to get up and walk, just as the doctor told you to. As I wince, so do you.

In the evening, you pack up the apartment, clean, and prepare. Stopping here and there to feed me and be sure I am walking around. You rub my sore back, shoulders, and feet.

I am your fragile wife, and you are my everything.

My scars will fade, but the memory of you serving me so tenderly will remain. When I doubt, you remind me. When I worry, you assure me. When I cry, you hold me. We never wanted any of this, but you are right here with me. Gently, you hold me steady. We move forward together.

It's ten o'clock. You bring my pills again.

I love you.

We Love Change

This should be a wild week for us. I have surgery on the 4th (outpatient, not a huge deal, but surgery is never fun), We are moving to a different apartment within our complex on the 7th, the Great Dane we are fostering will arrive from Nebraska on the 7th, I just started training for my clinical practicum, and school is about to start up again. Oh, and my lovely mother-in-law is visiting from Pittsburgh for my nephews birthday. I guess that is our pattern. Crazy burst of change and busyness, followed by relative calm and manageable stress. Drives our family crazy, but we love change.

A couple months after we moved in to our current apartment, we looked at each other and asked "where to next?" We loved our apartment, his job was going well, I was gearing up for school, and we were so happy to be near our family again, yet we already felt restless. We are always on Zillow and Trulia, always thinking of how life would be in a different city, and one of us is always thinking about a doctoral program or a big job transition. We both love change. Perhaps that is why we fit so well together. We have moved every year together except one, and lived in a record four homes one spring/summer. We are becoming less afraid to throw things out or donate them, knowing that we rarely miss our things once they are gone.

Someday, we might settle down. Someday we might hate moving enough to stay put. Or Maybe someday, we will care so little for our belongings, that we will choose to live out of our suitcases, on a boat, in an RV, or in a tiny little studio with a month to month lease.

So this week as the chaos starts brewing, we are finally ready to embrace our vagabond status. I will share with you our super secret moving ritual:

Step 1: Purge. No really, purge. If you wonder if you really need something, the answer is no. Give it away, burn it, toss it, whatever.

Step 2: Meticulously pack, label, and store your belongings, while telling yourself that this move will be different. You will break about 10% of your glassware, It will take you a year to find a few items, and in the end, your organizational system will be thrown out, along with that lovely china you were saving for a special occasion. It's cool. In the first few days, go ahead and indulge your OCD, knowing full well that the night before the move will be a panic.

Step 3: Post half your belongings on craigslist. Especially furniture. I am far to lazy to move any of the big stuff unless I really have to.

Step 4: Stock up on your favorite treats. All that moving works up an appetite, and somehow dowing that bag of starbursts, case of Pepsi Throwback, or box of oreos will make you less cranky. Just do it.

Step 5: Do not pack the TV until the day of! Have your favorite funny movies on while you pack and clean. Pull out the movies that you know by heart and that always make you laugh. For us, it is The Wedding Singer, Zoolander, Arrested Development, and anything with Tina Fey or Will Farrel. While you are at it, keep the ipod dock and your laptops. You gotta stay sane.

Step 6: Bribe your friends and family. No really. They will come because they love you, but if you are a frequent mover, just pay up and get the good pizza!

Step 7: Vow to never move again.

Step 8: A week or two post move, begin planning the next move. 

Step 9: Repeat steps 1-8 every 6-12 months.

If you follow these 9 easy steps, you will be well on your way to becoming that crazy vagabond that people just wish would finally settle down. You're welcome!

For your watching pleasure, Here is Johnny Lingo, the 1960's Mormon classic I finally made my husband watch with me last week. Mahana you ugly!

If you are dying to help us move, let me know. We will have good pizza. I promise :)

Bow Three Times

For the last couple of hours I have been soaking up the words of admired family therapist Virginia Satir. I have always thought of her as a wise grandmother, a woman who could see right through you and know how best to love and support you no matter where you come from. Seriously, you have to see her in action (thank you youtube!), with her tall, plump stature, vibrant dresses with big earrings, and her large round specticals. Her round voice and soft hands envelop her clients as if they are dear children, because in her mind, we are all unique and beautiful beings. Finishing the last of my videos for the day, she repeated a piece of advise she gave her clients that she felt would create a more peaceful world if embraced by all.

"Each morning, bow three times in front of the 
mirror. Tell yourself that the world is a better place 
because you are here."

I can't help but believe her when she says that we would all exist and love in more peaceful way if we could learn to love and appreciate ourselves and the influence we have on the world. Would it be like Jimmy Stewart at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, when he leaves the bridge he wanted to end his life on, only to find all of those he loved in the home he thought he would never see again?

Christopher and I always seem to be in the midst of transition. The world around us has felt especially chaotic of late, as I transition from dreams of motherhood to questions about my motives and fears about launching a career that will likely be a much bigger part of my life than I ever thought it would be. If I took dear Virginia's advise, would I behave differently? Would I focus more on who I am and who I want to be, rather than what I do, and what I want to do? Can I somehow channel the spirit of Virginia Satir, and the love she would have for me (sounds crazy, but I just know she would love me), and allow her to guide me to love myself more? Do I have the faith in myself to bow three times?

A little vision

Numb. The sting of awful news had subsided, leaving me numb, cold, and tired. My sweetheart would do his best to bring up all the medical and family drama, only to hear an icy and superficial muttering. After days curled up on the couch or in bed, I began shaking off the pain of the pills taken, and the pain caused by the disease they treated. As I  started getting my energy back, I was grateful for a weekend with my husband at home.

The night of our first date, almost six years ago, we spend 4 or 5 hours walking around Salt Lake City, just talking and enjoying the company of a new friend. Talking is what we have always been so natural at with each other, once we stopped trying to play it cool. For me, this last weekend felt so much like that first date. It was just what I needed to reconnect with my love, and to remember our family of two.

Friday night, we walked around downtown together and bought a couple cokes. Saturday we did grocery shopping with Hayley and Weston's son in tow, and then stayed up all night just talking. Sunday we slept in until noon, and spent the evening making a vision board. Since we are both such planners, it was really nice getting so many of our goals down in one place. There is so much we want to accomplish, and so many places we want to go. Babies will happen somehow, sometime, either biologically or not. Kids are just one part of the picture, and I have lots of them in my life now!

It is still difficult to be positive right now, but I am no longer numb to it, and I am so grateful for the family I have.

Chocolate, 30 Rock, and a few tears

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“Go to her” my sweet husband prompted. After making me dinner, he had one more trick up his sleeve. The best medicine I could ask for right now is my dear friend/soul mate Liz Lemon on my favorite show "30 Rock." We have kept ourselves busy enough to avoid thinking about it for most of the night, but neither of us is ready to mourn that loss yet. Liz is the key. At least for tonight. 

After 3 weeks of pain and doctors visits, I was told today that for the second time in the past year I have another infection that will likely prevent me from having children. I am not writing this to gain sympathy or get all TMI on the world. I just want to say it once, and be done with it.  It is really hard to keep telling the same sad story with a stone face and an uncomfortable joke (Insert uncomfortable reference to my inability to keep a plant alive here). I will have to tell hundreds of people over the next few decades that I don’t have kids, and may never. If I can skip a few rounds of that, I will be a happy girl.

There are so many women in my life who are in a similar situation, so I’d also like to share some tips on being sensitive to women with reproductive issues (I am ever the therapist).

• Don’t say “it will happen someday” or “the lord will bless you.” It may never happen, and he may never bless you in that way.

•   Don’t start every first conversation with “How long have you been married? Do you have children? Why not?” I am cool with friends asking my “why not?” but DUDE! Buy me dinner first!

•   Don’t be offended when we just can’t see another baby photo or don’t respond to your cheerful text message announcing you are pregnant.
• Don’t stop sharing your life with your friends and family because you are worried about hurting our un-mommy feelings. We may feel pangs of jealousy and curse you for getting pregnant by surprise, exactly when you wanted to, or simply before us. It will pass, and we will be genuinely happy for you when we are ready to.
•  Don’t say you’re sorry for us, and try not to bring it up. We need love and friendship, not pity and reminders that life is hard.

My life is full, and blessed. It will take time, but Christopher and I will be ok. We are already planning the next trip, and browsing dog rescues. I will be hanging out with my pal Liz Lemon, eating plenty of chocolate, and disengaging from social media until I can handle the baby-filled world we live in. I am so glad my husband gets me so completely.

            

 P.S. Christopher promises he will "END YOU" if you bring up babies. Watch your backs suckas!