Create Your Own Sunshine.

Happy weekend, my lovelies! I can honestly say that this week has been the most mentally taxing in my career vacation adventure, yet so full of sunshine. I won't burden you with the seedy details, but I will share some things I have learned.  But, first....behold....the final photo and the spring version of my hair pictures with Kel-Z Photography.  Rose petals, pink, sunshine in Ogden, happy Ray.  I loved shooting this one because the sunshine was peaking through the trees and we had to get a little creative to make it just right and not too glary (totally a word) and squinty. 

Life tends to make us glary and squinty at times.  I try really hard not to play my redhead cranky bitch card ALL the time, but man, it's not easy when life is turned upside down and I just want to crawl in a hole and cry.  I've had a lot of people tell me that I've handled this latest adventure with grace and poise.  Oh, if only that were true.  I mean, my life seems pretty super awesome on social media because I get to sleep in and do whatever the hell I want; however, that is such a sliver of my life.  In reality, it has been a ginormous test of my coping skills that I learned in organized therapy as well as a religious fundamental test to the nth degree.

There is a hymn in the Mormon hymnbook that has the following line, "when sore trials come upon you, did you think to pray?"  Whenever I sing the song and come to that line I think about the long list of prayers that have been said by me and for me when I have had sore trials in my life.  I am always a little leary when people say "we're praying for you!" because I tend to question it with some, especially on social media, because it can come across trendy and fake.  But, when I see blessing after blessing falling out of the sky and the sunshine that lands in my lap, I have to eat my words and ask for forgiveness because then I know someone (probably everyone) is praying for me.

This week I learned a really great lesson about creating my own sunshine.  I am a creature of habit (thanks, Mom), but at some point the MUNDANE of habit gets to me and I take a polar opposite approach and go a tid bit batty.  I'm sure you can relate.  Be honest with yourself....we all have that in us about something.  Dishes?  Cleaning the guest bathroom?  Sorting socks?  Anyway, my biggest survival method during all of this adventure has been routine.  As much routine as I can have to stay on task, but this week all of my usual routine was so painful.  I picked up the phone to call my mom and this is what she said, "You need a change of scenery adventure. Your usual routine is making you crazy (ier) so figure out a way to change it up so that you don't go nuts this week.  As soon as she said that I started thinking about coping mechanisms that I haven't used a lot during this adventure, but have worked in the past.  At the top of this list is coloring.  I am talking about straight up kiddie coloring in a princess coloring book with fresh new Crayola crayons.  Let me show you....

The change of scenery adventure that day turned in to a grand scavenger hunt of super secret locations that I knew nothing about before that day.  I was incredibly grateful for my tour guide that sent me to some of the most beautiful places in our area. I was also grateful for a new Disney Princess coloring book and a peaceful spot to color away my troubles.  Who says Cinderella, Snow White and Sebastian the Crab don't cure the crazies?  Like I said before, if there was ever any doubt that prayers weren't being said and answered on my behalf, times like this proved me wrong.  Oh. So. Wrong.  

The second coping mechanism that I haven't taken a lot of advantage of during this adventure is being around kiddos.  I've seen my auntie loves a few times in the last five months, but not a ton and I was starving for the simplicity and hilariousness of kid world.  Lucky for me, I happen to know a super cool kindergarten teacher with the BEST group of 5 year-olds and she has been quick and grateful to have me in her classroom to volunteer and participate.  This week I spent 3 days in kindergarten.  To most that sounds insanely exhausting (IT IS), but for me it was so much sunshine.  There is absolutely no time to be worried about the future when you have cute faces telling you how pretty you look (apparently they DO notice when I put on my eyebrows and mascara), hugging you at random and letting you test them on ABC's, numbers and sight words as well as lead a construction paper craft with googly eyes (eek!).  And let's be honest, there is a lesson to be learned when you have a little person who has a meltdown over glue stick and you think, "Honey, you're 5.  Your life is glorious and gives no reason for tears over glue.  Let's stop crying and continue on with the craft."  

When I knew that this moment of sunshine was a true gift from God was on Thursday when a student presented me with a thank you note and treat from his mom that thanked "Miss B's fantastic friend" for being in the classroom in her absence.  As I stood there and read it I had to hold back the tears (there's no crying in kindergarten) and it made my whole week.  So much sunshine right here, my lovelies.  So very much.  

The cure to my inner uneasiness this week really was crayons, super secret change of scenery adventures, mamma thank yous, cute kiddos of the 5 year-old kind and SO MANY construction paper Pete the Cats with googly eyes (someday I will write a whole post about the joy I find in googly eyes).  

The future is bright and my emotional bucket is filled because I took some sound mamma advice to heart.  Shhhh....don't tell her I admitted she was right on social media.  

The moral of the story:  Sunshine doesn't just come from the sky.  It comes from all around us and can turn an upside down week right side up in NO time.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R

Quality or Quantity?

The Ray's Reading Extravaganza continues and this past week I finished the book entitled "The American Heiress" by Daisy Goodwin.  If you've read my other book review posts this summer you've gathered that I've read some pretty random books, but every single one of them has provided me with laughter, tears, and a LOAD of compelling themes a.k.a. food for thought and blog topics!

"The American Heiress" had my attention when I saw that it would attract the "Downton Abbey" fan....guilty as charged so why not read it?  It was also a longer read than anything else I've read this summer so I knew it would take me more than a week to finish it.  I tend to get a bit of teenager ADD when I read books and after page 250, it better be damn good with great character voice and plot or I won't finish the book.  Wouldn't you know it, this book got juicy at about page 225 so I was hooked until the end.

The premise of this story is one that is common to the origins of 19th Century aristocracy and birthright; women married for money, a title, a big house (manor) and prayed like crazy that they would birth a male heir so that they weren't homeless and penniless after their husbands passed away.  They didn't vote or work for a wage; they birthed, shopped and had tea with their stuffy neighbors.  If you're a Downton Abbey junkie, you know that Mary, the eldest daughter, is on the hot trail to marry a semi-decent titled man who can take over the estate so that she can continue to live the high life that she's had since birth.  This book is the same gig.  An American heiress, Cora Cash, sets out to marry a English man (cue the swoony music because he'll have an accent) because she wants to be that kind of woman: the woman who marries a man who needs her money, but has a little of his own (and a title) when she finds him so she is set in society and can keep her mother happy.

I'm not going to lie, I struggle with the facts of pre-women's rights days.  I hate reading about women who were exiled because they could only birth daughters and women who had severe eating disorders because they were condemned to a marriage that was a political alliance and not two people in love joining in matrimony to have a fulfilling life and family together.  As I read this book, I was oddly haunted by a lot of cultural expectations that still exist among women of the modern age.  Yes, I know that you can totally go against the grain and do it your own way, but there are a lot of cultural standards that are still set and expected to be adhered to by religions and other sets of standards.  I, myself, having been raised in the Mormon Church, have felt insanely ridiculous pressure to marry for the resume and not the human.  I have friends who have been raised in other religious sects who have felt much of the same pressure.  To that, I say "what the hell?"  This is 2015, people.  Life is short, it should be sweet and ENJOYED.  We claim that we are on our way to equality, but are we?  At what point will it be OK to say, "I'm exercising my right to be treated as an equal in a marriage by not forcing myself to marry random dude so-and-so because he asked and he seems to be a pretty OK choice and can provide me with a wedding in the church (temple) and he has a job that will pay our bills."  Holy run-on sentence, but HOLY reality of life.

After the Supreme Court ruled for the equality of marriage earlier this year, I cheered.  I cheered because I thought, there has to be more of a mentality for equality in ALL things and if the right to marry whoever you want, male or female, is the start then hear hear...I'll toast to that!  I am a LOVER of the men, but I was so happy to see some movement for choices that served the masses.  Women (and men) all over the world live in agony and abuse and a web of lies because they are living with relationships, both marital and professional, that are completely illegal, ridiculous and/or avoidable.

As "The American Heiress" continued there was a constant looming hunch that Cora's husband, the duke, was somehow being unfaithful to her.  The social expectation (shudder) was that most men who were in politically driven marriages had a mistress on the side aka they were sleeping with the one who lit their fire while producing heirs with the one who was living in their castle and shared a sir name.  Super awesome.  Cora is constantly wondering if she is doing enough to please her husband and provide him with happiness at home so that he doesn't feel the need to take a mistress, if he hasn't already.  I have to give props to the author because she had me guessing right until the end as to the correct answer.  The moving pieces from all angles were nail-biting.  As I've thought about these themes since finishing the book, I've come to these conclusions, or sealed what I already knew:

• I am SO grateful I was not born a rich girl.  As much as I would love to not have a care in the financial world, I will take being poor, with substance, fidelity and true love, any day.  
• We have a lot of work to do to be truly equal in relationships.  We think we are liberal, but mentally we are still programmed to be submissive in some areas.  Stop that.  Embrace that you are a contributing human being to society for more than being the 9 month holding tank for humans.  
• No matter what, we deserve to be in relationships with someone who is QUALITY not quantity.  I bet if we could conduct an interview with Diana, the Princess of Wales, we would have all sort of facts to back this statement up.  God rest her soul because she went through so much to be hitched to the carriage of a royal.  Her consolation, as she watches from heaven, is a son who married the untitled woman he loved and has been an incredibly amazing husband and father, unlike his dad.  

I hope that my musings on marriage and equality will provide a glimmer of hope and inspiration to someone out there who feels the pressure to marry for quantity over quality.  If we are believers in true destiny, whether it be that which is provided by God or karma, then HOLD OUT to the day when your Gilbert Blythe comes walking through the door to love you til the day he dies and treats you like the incredible, smart, sassy lady that you are through and through.  

The moral of the story:  We deserve equality.  Lean in, stand up, speak up, don't settle and make it happen. 

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R 

Turn Your Eye To The Sky.

Hello, my lovelies!  I bet you didn't expect more photos from my summer shoot with Kel-Z Photography to come up.  Bazinga!  I tricked ya!  I have two more that I'll be bringing to you, but I'll keep you guessing.  This photo is one of my favorites.  Ogden is ma 'hood and 25th Street is our playground.  I really wanted an umbrella shot and Kelsey had this totally amazing vintage umbrella that we were able to use.  Flowers, sunshine, blue sky, mountain view, cute shoes and pink?  I will take it!  Before we headed to the rainbow door (my FAVORITE photos) we snapped this photo at Ogden's Union Station.  

I've been on a social media siesta for the last month.  Life has kicked my trash a bit and I needed some self care, brain vacay and stepping away from social media seemed to be my answer.  During the last month, I've experienced some trigger moments, too many tears to admit, but a myriad of blessings that I may have missed if I was consumed with technology.  I've also witnessed some friends and family deeply struggling with the storms of depression themselves and it has reminded me that we can't ever ever ever forget to take care of ourselves and stay on track with what our body is telling us.  I have felt the need to share some thoughts with you about keeping an attitude of faith during the shit storm of life, but also being acutely aware of the signs that your body sends to you as a cry for self care.  

During the times of my life that I've been in deep, dark, incomprehensible depression, I've always wondered how I would get out of it.  My first extreme episode was when I was 19 and I would lay awake at night and pray to God that I would fall asleep so that when I woke up it would be gone.  Those are intensely haunting memories that I won't ever let myself forget completely.  The biggest lesson I learned from that first round of depression was the beginning of a decade of recognizing triggers.  It wasn't until I went to organized therapy that I admitted out loud that I had triggers and that I needed to be aware of them, accept them and be ready to work through them when something brought them up in my memory. Not easy. 

Triggers are those events, people, smells, shoes, sayings, tv shows, colors, foods that remind you of a time when you were in danger or volatile and send you in to a tale spin of epic proportions.  Triggers SUCK.  Most of the time you don't see them coming and when they smack you in the face you think, "DAMN IT, why did I let myself get here?"  But, the fact is, once it happens, you have to ride with the waves and go in to self care mode while your brain works through it.  I can't and won't tell you that I have all the answers about dealing with triggers.  We all have different methods of coping, but I can tell you that if you will turn your eye to the sky, remember that there is a big beautiful world full of people who love you, anything is possible and you will make it.  

Along with triggers, I want to talk with you about a little thing called Vitamin D.  As a redhead with fair skin who grew up in the insanely cold tundra of Southeastern Montana in an artsy poor family, I didn't know what outdoor recreation really was as a child and youth.  The concept of enjoying winter was foreign and it also meant that I didn't see a lot of Vit D time from October to April.  We HATE winter in my family.  It's depressing, cold as hell and dark at 4 pm.  When I moved to Salt Lake and experienced my first winter with the inversion, I thought I was going to die.  I was miserable.  I could hardly cope.  I was sick, it was dark and I craved clean air and sunshine something fierce.  It wasn't until my fifth Utah winter (what?) that I went to a lady doctor and asked to have my Vitamin D levels tested.  Do you want to guess the outcome????  I barely registered on the charts.  She looked at me and asked, "how do you even cope during the winter?"  Um, good question, lady!  In my previous 10 years of treatment and medical care I had NEVER had a lady doctor say, "let's test your Vitamin D and see if that is contributing to your depression during certain times of the month."  I sat in the exam room and cried.  I finally had answers.  Answers meant I could make a plan and help myself feel better.  

When I moved to Ogden, I thought, OK, self, we need to get a grip on winter.  My first winter here wasn't a walk in the park, but when I bought my current car, I knew that it was absolutely necessary to spend more money on an SUV so that I had the ability to solve my winter blues symptoms by driving to the grocery store myself after a blizzard for a week-supply of Diet Coke (totally have many times) or drive to Ogden Valley and find sunshine and clean air on a Sunday afternoon.  I am going in to my fourth winter in Ogden (holy moly, time flies) and I'm already making a plan of how I will make it FUN!  That is a real-life example of knowing my triggers and staying ahead of them as much as I can by having a plan.  

Vitamin D is critical to our mental health, my lovelies.  However, it can't always be consumed in food or sucked up by being outside in the sunshine.  Talk to your health professional and ask the questions.  Pay for the test to get an idea of where you stand with your Vitamin D levels.  Women generally are always low.  Just like me, when you have answers, you can make a plan and start self care and watch for your triggers.  Knowledge is power.  It truly is.  

The moral of the story: we live in a beautiful imperfect world full of people who love us and can help us when we don't know what to do next.  Eye to the sky, ask the questions and make a plan.  You can do it.  I know it.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R

Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams: 2nd Edition.

Hello, my lovelies!  How's the last month of your life been?  Mine?  Sorta not my favorite, but lemons to lemonade has translated to LOTS of leisure reading; enough that I can now bestow a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams to all of you. *curtsy curtsy*  If you read my original post you know that these reads are defined as those that can be taken on vacation (preferably on the beach with no cell service) and read while laying in the sun.  They can also be defined as those that make vacation sweeter, not more stressful.  Got it?  So, let's get to the real information.

1. Love Walked In By Marisa De Los Santos:  This book had been gathering dust on my nightstand for MONTHS and I honestly don't remember where I bought it....I think the second hand store, but I can't confirm.  Either way, I thought I better give it a shot so that I knew I didn't waste the money I had spent on it.  Really cute read.  Very very funny narrator voice that sucked me in from the first chapter until the end of the book.  This book is also told from two different views and those are my FAVORITE as referenced HERE.  It's an unexpected love story that has some plots turns that you won't see coming.  I don't know if the maternal relationship that occurs between the two narrators drug me in (likely) or the funny prose, but either way I enjoyed it a lot.

2.  Heaven Help Us By Herbert Tarr:  This book.  HYSTERICAL.  I found it in a very large pile of old books when I was visiting my friend's family and their community book fair.  This book is the Jewish version of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" meets "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever."  I could NOT stop laughing.  I will admit it took me longer to get through this book, but only because I tend to read the books to myself out loud in my head and rabbi man voice didn't come as easy as froo froo lady voice.  Overall, I was so glad I read it because I laughed and laughed at the cultural differences that exist in the religion of Judaism, but also the era it was writtnen (1960's).  When the most scandalous event of the book is a fashion show among the church ladies and they model bikinis and crop shirts I thought I was going to fall out of my chair.

3. Mr. Darcy Broke My Heart By Beth Patillo:  This book is the 2nd of a trilogy of books that the author has written with a Jane Austen theme.  I discovered that she had written more when I was trolling through a local library.  I was really pleased to know that she had written more books because I LOVED her first book, "Jane Austen Ruined My Life" which I talked about in the first edition post.  I admit, I'm a total Darcy LOVER and I was semi-skeptical that she would make him into the bad guy.  It provided some deep thought on how and why the characters were written in the original novel and was a great story and light read.

4.  The Dashwood Sisters Tell All by Beth Patillo:  The third and final book written in the trilogy and by far my favorite.  I will tell you that you can easily read any one of Ms. Patillo's books and not get lost as to how she shapes her plots around Jane Austen's original characters.  They are modern tales and the plot line in this one really spoke to me.  For those of you who have read and/or watched "Sense & Sensibility" you'll know that the sisterly relationship isn't always favorable.  In fact the younger sister gets really tired of her older sister being the bossy pants regarding her love life and inheritance prospects, etc. etc. etc.....in case you were unsure...that's all that mattered then (TOTALLY different feminist-laden topic for another day).  I will openly admit that my relationship with my next youngest sister has had it's really rocky patches, but we have mended and our friendship is one that I value so greatly.  It also doesn't hurt that she is married to the goofiest, most glorious man on the planet who we are never letting out of our sight.  Family relationships can be tough, but with a little bit of effort and a TON of patience, it can be done.  There is a quote that I really loved from this book that I wanted to share.  It said, "All along we had been looking for the wrong thing.  We thought we were supposed to unearth some big secret between the sisters, but it had never been about the secrets they had kept from each other, but they kept for each other."  A bond between sisters is fierce and this book made me even more grateful for the two goofy sisters and one amazing sister-in-law that I've been blessed with in my life.

I hope that these itty bitty blurbs give you some inspiration for your next read.  If you didn't catch my last post, it is a review about another beachy read called "The Atlas of Love."  You can read that by going HERE.  

The moral of the story:  Sometimes the tallest, sweetest glass of lemonade in the lemony suck of life is a beachy read to let your brain wander and relax from the hellish reality of adulting.  Here's to froo froo lady voices in our head and lots of school girl giggles in our beds WELL past our bedtime.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

The Atlas of Love.

In life it is either feast or famine for me.  I'm a hopeless cause for balance some days and sometimes I just throw all care and worry to the wind and tell myself "it could be worse, I could be a dangerous addict of some kind."  Might sound a bit harsh, but I find it rather amusing (most days).  In the last year I have read more books than I have in the last 5 years.  College fried my brain and my love for reading and it has taken me this long (10+years) to recover and find my reading bug again.  While I was exiting my last career, the stress was SO HIGH.  I would come home at night and want to crawl in a ball and cry, but knew that wasn't always the answer.  I started to see some great book recommendations on Instagram and Facebook and started to read again on my iPad.  I'm a big dork about reading and if it makes my eyes hurt or I can't see the words, I won't do it. **old lady status** The beauty of my iPad is a bright, back light that means I can read in my bed, in the dark.  Perfection.  The last two books I read have been actual hard-copy books, but only because of a random chain of events, including a new light bulb in my lamp.....don't ask.....  The first book I am going to save for a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams, but the second gets its own post.  Read on, my lovelies!

Do you ever walk into the dollar store and stroll past the books and wonder if it's all crap or if there might be something worth reading hiding in the pile that will only cost you a buck?  On occasion I do, and the last time this happened was when in Idaho visiting my Jo bestie.  She was picking up a few items at the dollar store and the books were in the front of the store...bonus!  I started to dig through them and this book popped out at me.  As you know from my post about Sarah Boucher's book, "Becoming Beauty", I am a sucker for a pretty cover.  I shout praises to authors who have publishers with art departments that know what their doing with cover art.  I mean, I'm only one person, but I take the cover in to serious consideration when deciding whether or not to read a book. 

The front of the book says the following, "This story of women's friendships and redefining 'family' flows with lovely writing."  I could end my review right now because the person who said it was spot on.  But, I'm not!  

There were five themes in this book that I want to briefly address.  They are: friendship, faith, fear, family and love.  

Friendship:  The Atlas of Love is centered around the friendship of 3 graduate students in Seattle.  Talk about three different personalities and family structures too.  The reader quickly realizes that opposites do attract and these three girls are miraculously besties because they are SO different.  The biggest irony of this book is that one of the main characters is Mormon and she's kind of a weirdo.  I can say that because I was raised Mormon and I could tell that the author was very well-versed in her quirky Mormon.  Still so funny, but probably more so because I could relate to it better and have known LOTS of women over the years very similar to this character....let's just leave it there.  The entire premise of this book is friendship through thick, thin, sad, happy, angry and repeat over and over.  

Faith:  As I said earlier, there is a blatant reference to faith because of the Mormon main character, but she does not dominate the faith discussion.  Throughout the book, there is much deliberation about faith in life, faith in God, faith in humanity and faith in what is meant to happen.  Who can relate to that more often than you care to admit?  **pick me, pick me**

Fear:  This book involves a baby.  It involves a baby that is a BIG surprise and thus enters a boat load of fear from numerous characters.  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you didn't see coming?  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you DID see coming?  That's the toughie for me personally.  Knowing that the end is inevitable because the writing is on the wall so you brace yourself for the impact.  Fear of the future presents itself in numerous forms throughout the book as they deal with an unexpected pregnancy, some broken loves, balancing life and the mourning and coping that goes along with it.  

Family: As I quoted above, the book talks about redefining family.  Without giving too much away (ok, I'll give away as much is on the back cover), these three girls take on the raising of the baby boy who is named Atlas.  They affectionately call it tri-parenting and it sort of works.  They are all insanely busy graduate students so they make the decision that the only way this little boy can have a relatively normal life, given the circumstances, is for them to commit to be mothers together.  It really is a heartwarming and delightful concept in theory, but they soon find that the mamma bear a.k.a. she who cooked and birthed said child is still the final say in all decisions made about Atlas.  One of the things that really touched my heart was the passion that came from the two friends who weren't the biological mothers, but dedicated their lives as if they were his mother.  In addition to their commitment to this little boy, their families also committed to being adoptive grandparents and everything that accompanied these roles.  I related well because I am the proud adoptive aunt of lots of little people who I fiercely love as much as my biological nephews and niece.  Motherhood hasn't been my adventure yet and I am so grateful for the little humans who call me Auntie Ray who aren't biological, but who I love like they were from day one.  

Love: The backbone of any great story is love and this is no exception.  Love is kind, love is selfless, love is patient and love is tough.  And when I say tough, I mean both kinds--the enduring and the challenging.  I know from personal experience that the more deeply we love the more deeply we hurt.  It seriously sucks when it doesn't go in our favor, but it is also the most rewarding and beautiful gift to have in life.  My heart runneth over when I see the beautiful, giggly faces of my nephews and niece via FaceTime and even more so when I get barrel-hugged (a real word) when I see them in person.  The human heart and soul has infinite capacity to love if we will let it.  I will be the first to admit that I am one who can easily put my heart in the deep freeze and let it sit on ice for an indefinite time, but I don't like how it makes me feel.  I want to love and be loved, thus I take risks and embrace my ability to feel the way I feel and live life as it comes.  

The quote above is near the end of the book and it really inspired me.  Not too long ago I referenced "The End" really meaning "The Beginning" and I think this quote attests to that as well.  When we have loved then we can come to the close of a moment and begin the next set of amazing moments.  Love is our focus.  Love can and will continue to reclaim us if we will let it.  And just as this quote says there will be anger AND love, with hefty helpings of both, but love will always win.  I will say it again....love will win if we LET it.  Anger is hella toxic and it can eat you alive and burn your insides if you let it.  Take the time to let friendship, faith, family and love heal your heart because when love is in the air, the next chapter is about to begin.  

The moral of the story:  All you need is love.  The Fab Four knew what they were talking about.  Trust it and let it reclaim you.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

This Way to Adventure.

The late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."  I have to admit that I've been at a loss for the right words for this post.  I've known the title for probably two months, but no words.  Life has a way of testing my patience and it's safe to say that I'm in that moment right now with my current adventure.  But!  I can also say that the blessings are PLENTIFUL.  I am so grateful for the rays of sunshine that surround me and offer random pep talk text messages, inspirational quotes on my Facebook page, dinners, amusement park adventures (more on that later) and the list goes on and on.  

Throughout my career I've always had a mantra of "anything is possible with a good pair of red shoes."  My friend's father once told me that he didn't like red shoes because that's what the hookers in Puerto Rico wore when he was a kid.  Nonetheless, I've always felt great power in a good pair of red shoes.  How many times do we have a day that we think, "huh, how about I stay in my bed, firmly planted under the covers, and the grown-upping ceases?"  I've had them a few too many days in my life, but some of the BEST days I've experienced have been those when I kicked myself out of bed, got dressed, threw on my red shoes and showed up.  It's not easy.  I've talked about my bestie relationship with a thing called depression and one thing that is a consistent is this: the days you want to stay in bed and give the hell up are the days you need to get out of bed the MOST and move and be active.  It is seriously the biggest, most painful paradox, but it's true.  Get that blood flowing and force your brain to think about things other than the suckiness of your life and find the sunshine.  

Faith in the unknown is an on-going battle for me.  I'm a planner, a doer, a giver and a lady who likes to have a clear idea of where I'm headed next.  A wise friend gave me the advice that I need to "breathe and trust" and let life happen.  Phew!  Wait, what?  You want me to settle down and trust?  Whoa, whoa the faith train has pulled into town and I have been issued a first-class ticket.  It's so simple and I'm here to say, it works.  As I calm down, I tend to think more clearly and see those small and simple blessings that are right in front of my face. . . and then there was the day I let my bestie talk me into something completely c-razy, but it proved a fierce point that I needed re-enforced: I can do scary things.  

See this photo?  To some it may look like a 'gorgeous Utah sunset' but to me it is pure and utter craziness because I was standing in line to get on this nutso roller coaster at Lagoon.  Behold, the white roller coaster of death.  The rickety, scary-as-hell, oldest, made-of-wood roller coaster.  My Lu bestie came to visit this last weekend and she had passes to Lagoon for her company summer party that she shared for my birthday adventure present.  I'm a lost cause at amusement parks.  I have a weak stomach, issues with heights and the attention span of a 5 year-old while waiting in line.  However, I also know that I don't die when I'm under the influence of Dramamine and if I calm down and close my eyes (total child) I do actually have fun.  So, little by little she got me to go on crazy-ish rides.  When she suggested the white roller coaster I thought, "why the hell not?  I won't die.  I might come close, but I won't die."  So crazy that I did it and I am pretty sure I was more entertaining for her as I tried to not wet myself or cry or both.  But!  I DID IT!  I so totally did it and I walked away feeling like a champ because I overcame a serious amount of fear.  As I was walking like a drunken sailor to the concession stand for my free Diet Coke (WINNING!) I said to her, "you do realize this is going in my next blog post?"  So there you go.  Laugh amongst yourselves that I even told you about it. 

So, back to the real photos....I had so much fun shooting this outfit with Kelsey.  It had a vintage, sassy flair...which shouldn't surprise any of you.  The cardigan is from college (a LONG time ago) and I refuse to get rid of it.  The dress was a great D.I. find, the necklace is from Chic Style Utah and the shoes were on sale at PayLess.

What I love about life is that sometimes the best coping mechanism is wearing a good pair of red shoes and throwing on those sunnies to have a moment to breathe while no one is looking in your eyes to see the real story.  We can't wear our sunnies all the time, but we can sure take a break and look hot whilst letting ourselves breathe and trust.

So, here I am in the middle of the road.  Which adventure next?  Which staircase should I take?  At this very second I don't know the answer, but I know that life keeps moving forward and the blessings keep falling out of the sky and I continue to keep a straight path in sight and a smile on my face.

The moral of the story:  Life will always have a new adventure for us to tackle, but the good news is: we CAN do scary things and we DO live to tell about it!

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

::GUEST BLOGGER:: Independence.

Note from Raylynn:

Happy 4th of July, my lovelies!  I am honored and very pleased to turn the blog over to Ashley Merical as she shares her perspective on being the daughter of a soldier and the sacrifices her family has made for our freedom.  I grew up with Ashley's stepmother in Miles City, Montana and I could not be more humbled to share this with all of you.  Freedom ALWAYS comes at a price for someone.  God Bless our America and those who have kept it free.  Until next time, my lovelies!  -R

Independence means something different to everyone. However, when speaking of the independence of our great nation most agree that independence means we get to choose the lives we lead and make our own choices. Every Fourth of July our nation is seen shooting fireworks, having parties and parades to celebrate our independence. Although who pays the price for this sweet freedom? This freedom comes at no cost to many Americans, however for the families of the men and women in our military; this freedom means something very different. This means sacrifice, dedication and fear. Some might even say that their freedom tastes sweeter because they know what it costs to maintain this independence most take for granted. Whether you agree or disagree with the reasons we are still in this war is irrelevant. The soldiers who fight this battle do not choose why, they do not even choose when, these choices are made by the government, not the soldier.

These men and women choose loyalty to their country above all else, even above family. My father Kord Merical was deployed to Afghanistan April of 2012; this story is insight to how his deployment affected our family, as told from my point of view. Though my father did not pay the ultimate price for freedom, he still paid a cost greater than many know.  I would like to dedicate this piece to every military family and say thank you, I know how hard it can be to serve your country.

Kord Merical served in the United States Marine Corps from 1989-1993. During this time Kord was deployed to Iraq. Once the end his four years were up on his enlistment Kord chose not to re-enlist because he wanted to be a family man and the Marine Corps demanded too much time.  Fast forward about 14 years later and Kord enlisted in the National Guard.  He always had a passion for the military and he felt that the National Guard would not require as much of his time as the Marine Corps. However, as the war in the Middle East continued, more and more of our soldiers from all branches were beginning to be called to battle.

I am Kord’s oldest daughter; I was the oldest child still living at home at the time of his deployment. It was the end of my junior year of high school when he had to leave. I will never forget that day. The way it felt. I have never felt so much pressure through the entire core of my body. There is no lower feeling in the world than watching your hero walk onto a plane and wondering if you will ever see him return. The whole weekend you spend as much time with your family as possible. You are constantly shuffled from one support meeting to the next, it is all part of what the military calls “family readiness.” The whole time you are well aware of what is going to happen at the end of the weekend, yet somehow you believe time will stop, that you will never really have to say goodbye. Then suddenly you find yourself waking up one morning getting showered and ready for the very moment you have “prepared” for all weekend. The hotel room falls silent as everyone finishes up brushing their hair and spritzing with hairspray. Finally, reality sets in as you stand on the tarmac with all of the other families, the sounds of cameras clicking, tears falling and boots shuffling.

I remember looking at my sisters, and my step-mom, Heather, who at the time was 5 months pregnant with my baby brother Kordell. As I looked at them I grew worried. How were we supposed to manage on our own for a year without Dad? Dad was such a huge part of our success; he was supportive, funny and yet stern when he needed to be. How were we supposed to have a baby, help Hadley, who was three at the time, understand why daddy had to leave for so long? I was hollow. I couldn’t imagine how Heather, my stepmom felt. She was pregnant, had Kaylee, Hadley and me. I was born with a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy, even though I am extremely mobile outside of my chair it is still harder to go places and manage. I worried that I would be more of a burden than a help to my family while Dad was gone. So as we all clung to Dad, tears streaming down our faces we whispered how much we loved him and how much meant to us assuring him that not one day would go by without us thinking of him and missing him. Then it was time. He stood tall, shoulders proud; he walked to where his men were standing, fell into formation and stepped onto the plane. The goose bumps spread through the entirety of my body.

There we were, holding hands, sobbing; watching the plane wheels leave the ground, and as I held my grandfather’s hand I looked up at that small white speck in the sky and prayed time would fly. We made our way back to the car, cleaned ourselves up, and had a few empty laughs. We stopped at Perkins on our way out of Billings knowing that no one was really hungry. As we drove home we struggled to find conversation desperate to forget about what we had just done. Soon we found ourselves back in Miles City, MT at that menacing front door.  If you have never lived this situation it will be hard for you to fully grasp because saying goodbye to a soldier on their way overseas is nothing like saying goodbye to a family member who is moving or if you are leaving for a long period of time. It is much more daunting and uncertain to say goodbye to a soldier. I prayed every day that he would be safe thinking that if anything were to happen to him over there our family would never smile again. Now as the days passed his absence was still very present, although we grew more comfortable with the empty seat on the couch.

The new routine suited us well; all of us girls grew very close that year, especially Heather and I. Suddenly we became more supportive and aware of each other as we learned how to cope. Then the baby came. The emotions of that day are still just as raw as the day Dad stepped on the plane. Heather gave birth to a beautiful son; Dad was on skype watching but still painfully aware of the fact that his child wouldn’t feel his touch for another eight months. Heather wondering how she was going to be a new Mommy while caring for the other three children all on her own. I have never known more people as brave as Heather and my father.  But there he was the most beautiful pink bundle. I wasn’t in the room during Heather’s labor or delivery, her mother, father, stepmother and other family members were there with her, and I came as soon as she called saying it was time to meet the baby. He was named Kordell because we wanted him to be named after Kord, but still have his own unique name. Then it was time to bring the baby home and a whole new adventure began.

The first week was ok. Kordell grew fussier and fussier. We tried everything from changing formula to changing how much how many ounces in the bottle. Until one day my grandfather found a lump on his leg. After many doctors’ appointments we discovered that Kordell had Caffey’s Disease.  A rare disease where there is excess bone on the leg and arm bones and as the child grows it stretches out and eventually the bone grows into normal size again. Usually by the time the child is three years old they grow out of it. However it is painful when they hit growth spurts. There were many sleepless nights where Heather, her step mother, and I stayed up holding him as he screamed, all we could do was try to make him as comfortable as possible as we took turns soothing him. Dad was even more stressed now that Kordell was sick and we were on our own.  Although again we found our rhythm, our routine with the new baby became normal and we girls grew even closer as we all took care of each other and Heather and I both worked hard to parent the children. Pretty soon the months were flying by.

We grew used to our new life and before we knew it, it was time to pick up our soldier. We were all so excited yet nervous at the same time. We knew it would be hard for us to forget the roles we had taken while he was away and go back to the way we lived before he left. So much had changed; I mean we had another member of the family. Once we got to Billings it seemed as though time had stopped. It was March of 2013. It had started to lightly snow as the soldiers stepped off of the plane. The whistles and cries of hello and excited bustle erupted from the crowd of families.

He made his way through the crowd, eager to meet his youngest son, and he hug each of us. Then he found us, taking Kordell in one hand and Hadley we all formed a small circle taking in all of emotion and the shock of seeing him standing so close; so within reach when he had been unreachable for 12 months. Then the celebrations began, we went to Applebee’s, although I think we were all a little too excited to eat. Except for Dad, he was beyond excited to be going to an American restaurant.

Once the newness wore off and we began to transition into everyday life again things became more stressful. My role as co-parent was over which was hard, I think for Kordell that took some getting used too. The little man was eight months old and he was not used to having a man in the house. That was hard for me. We had a routine that we were all used to and now we had to adjust and re-incorporate him into our lives. However, any problems there were adjusting; it was well worth it to have him home again.

The fourth of July meant more to us that year than just barbecues and fireworks in the park. We finally understood how great our freedom was and what it meant to maintain that freedom. Every day he was gone we prayed and wished the days would fly by and then when he finally got home we prayed some more and thanked God for keeping him safe and making us strong. That year warranted more growth in our family than any other year thus far. I am so proud to call Kord Merical my father because as hard as our year was, it was nothing compared to the year he had. I couldn’t imagine having to be that far from your family not being able to help them, and doing the job he had to do, fighting the battles he had to fight and being in a constant state of stress all while maintaining his famous smile.

So... this Fourth of July take a moment to reflect upon what this holiday means and the families who have fought to keep that holiday.