Run Like a Girl

Last week, the Boston Marathon occurred. On the day of that marathon, I heard about Kathrine Switzer for the first time. I'm kind of ashamed that it took me 20+ years to learn of Kathrine and what she did for women in the sport of running. Do you know what Kathrine did? Well, keep reading to find out.  

This excerpt was taken from the Wikipedia page on Kathrine. And yeah, I know Wikipedia isn't the best source in the universe but this is my personal blog, not college . . . 

 While attending university, Switzer completed the race in 1967 under entry number 261 with the Syracuse Harriers athletic club,^[4] five years before women were officially allowed to compete in it. Her finishing time of approximately 4 hours and 20 minutes was nearly an hour behind the first female finisher, Bobbi Gibb (who ran unregistered).^[5] She registered under the gender-neutral "K. V. Switzer", which she says was not done to mislead the officials. She says she had long used "K. V. Switzer" to sign the articles she wrote for her university paper.^[6] Switzer was issued a number through an "oversight" in the entry screening process, and was treated as an interloper when the error was discovered.^[7] Race official Jock Semple attempted to physically remove her from the race. Switzer claims he shouted, "Get the hell out of my race and give me those numbers."^[8]Switzer's boyfriend Tom Miller, who was running with her, shoved Semple aside and sent him flying, allowing her to proceed. Photographs taken of the incident made world headlines.

This is one photo taken from the race that day . . . 

1967 . . . that was not very long ago. And who knows how much longer it would have taken for women to be accepted in the sport of running if it weren't for Kathrine's courageous act. Kathrine went on to keep running marathons, and she still does so much work for women in running. 

Kathrine's story especially hit home for me as I just signed up for my first FULL marathon a few weeks ago. I've registered for so many races in the past and never realized how blessed I was to have the ability to do so. I take things for granted; things that people once had to fight for the right to. It's crazy to me that in the past, it was wrong for a woman to want to lace up her running shoes and enter a race. 

Running is my medicine. When I've had a bad day or I'm feeling stressed, it's what I do to unwind. It's something I've grown up doing: from racing kids on the playground, to breaking high school track records, to joining USU's track & field team, to now running distances that I didn't think I was capable of running. I can't imagine my life without running in it. Who knows how my life could be different if it weren't for Kathrine. I'm so thankful for women before me who chose to live bravely. Their choices have impacted me in many ways I know I'm not fully aware of. 

On the hard days of training leading up to my marathon, when I don't feel like putting one foot in front of the other, I'm going to remind myself of that woman who pinned the number "261" on her sweatsuit and ran with the boys. 

On the day of my marathon, when I'm feeling terrified and full of doubt, I'll remind myself to run like a girl. Maybe I'll even put a "261" somewhere on my body to give myself an extra little boost of confidence.  

The Holiday Whirlwind

Wait. What? I have a blog? I completely forgot.

Who has time to blog during the holidays anyhow? But then so many good things happen during the holidays that are begging to be documented. So now, here I am, playing catch up.

There's so much to talk about. Christmas happened. My birthday happened. It's 2015. But let's just stick with Christmas right now, before I start hyperventilating.

This year was weird for me. The holidays went especially fast. Thanksgiving happened and then in the blink of an eye, it was Christmas. We spent Thanksgiving with my family. The weekend after Thanksgiving, we ran a Santa 5k. All runners dressed as Santa Claus for the race. Brian signed up to do it with me mostly so I'd be happy. This is something I've anxiously been looking forward to for the past year and it didn't disappoint.

I mean, just imagine it. Hundreds of Santas were running together through the streets of Ogden, Utah. It was a great sea of Santas. I felt like I had an instant bond with my fellow Santa runners. I'm sure they didn't feel any bond, because I'm a wacko person, but that's fine. I felt it. I was beyond excited. That's all that matters. To add to this awesome experience, there was also an aid station where kids dressed as elves passed out milk and cookies. There was water too, but whatever. I know I'm making this all sound very glamorous, however, running several miles in a Santa suit is very hot. And those beards were itchy. Gotta take some bad with the good I suppose.

I mentioned the holidays were strange for me. For some reason, I had a super hard time getting in the Christmas spirit this year, which doesn't really make sense because on the surface it seems I did everything right. I tend to be the type of person who goes overboard on holidays. I think everyday leading up to the big day needs to be a major celebration. I understand that can be exhausting for people around me. I think it was exhausting for me as well this year. But I kept making Christmas goodies, putting up decorations, and forcing myself to watch any holiday movie I could get my hands on all hoping this void would be filled. I went to White Elephant parties (where my gift was literally a white elephant), I sang Christmas carols. Heck, Brian and I even organized the Christmas program for our church's party. 

And let's not even talk about how much money we spent on Christmas lights this year. The sad part is, we didn't have some out-of-this-world light display. Munch the pooch kept being naughty and chewing through extension cords. Let's just say Brian and our dog didn't have the most cheery relationship through the month of December. 

Anyway, I kept getting frustrated that I had this empty feeling during the holidays. Who was I? Scrooge?! The Grinch?!

I kept blaming it on the fact that we had no snow. Christmas just isn't Christmas for me if it's not a White Christmas. It's easy to blame things on the weather. But I think the void was actually there because I needed an attitude adjustment. 

While the presents, and the lights and the snow are fun bonuses to Christmas, I think I kept forgetting the simple truth behind this special time of year. When you take all the chaos, food, parties, and glitter away, Christmas is really about a baby. He was sent here for us because God loves us. That baby, born in the most humble of circumstances, grew up to be a very brave man. He's the man who suffered and died for me so that I might overcome my faults and insecurities. He lived a life where He was often lonely, and He made that sacrifice so that I never have to feel alone. For that, I am very grateful. I know I said this post is just about Christmas, but let's delve into the new year a little bit. In 2015, I'm looking forward to strengthening my relationship with Christ and being able to understand my eldest brother a little better. I'm so very grateful for His life and example.

Now I know I really just needed to adjust my focus during the holidays, but I also knew a little snow would help my attitude. Christmas morning, I woke up to find my wild dreams came true. We fell asleep on Christmas Eve to dead, brown grass. We woke up Christmas morning to a thick and pure blanket of snow. That experience will make this Christmas one I will never forget. I didn't really want any presents this year . . . just some magical snow. God delivered!   

And I know I'm late to the party . . . . but here's the Weller Christmas card if you missed it: 

Are we hip or what? 

XO

Never Grow Up

I've been on a Taylor Swift kick lately . . . like the rest of the world. I've loved Taylor though from day one. I remember the first time I heard her. My friend had just bought her first album. I was in high school. We were cruising down the highway in her jeep, wind snaking through our hair, when she cranked up the volume. Young Taylor crooned "Tim Mcgraw" and I was instantly in love.

Fast forward to her "Speak Now" album and I was in even more love. I listened to that album over and over again. I was now a student at Utah State University. I listened to Taylor on my way to classes, while I did homework, while I did laundry, while I cooked. You name it, I was probably listening to T-Swift.

Believe it or not, this post isn't actually about Taylor Swift at all (even though I'm obsessed). This post is about my little sisters.

One day when I was driving home from campus, I had Taylor's "Speak Now" album playing in my van (yes, this was back before my beloved van broke down). I think I was already in a melancholy mood, thinking about how much homework I had and how much I wished I could be five again. That's when the song "Never Grow Up" came on.

The lyrics hit home for me. I felt like it was me speaking to my two little sisters. The first verse reminded me of my baby sister, Chloe. She was little and goofy, and I never wanted that to change. The second verse talked about wanting to grow up and call your own shots, and I instantly thought of my sister, Lexi. She was, at the time, barely a teenager (and developing the attitude of one). She had always been Miss Independent. The third verse was about me. Imagining my dad getting home from work and playing with my little brother, and wishing I could go back to those simpler times. Everyone always claims they relate to Taylor's songs, right? Usually it's a song about heartbreak or love. For me, in that moment of driving home alone, "Never Grow Up" was my song. I didn't want my siblings to grow up. I wanted them to stay young and innocent. I didn't want to watch my parents grow older. I didn't want to grow older either.

As I got lost in the lyrics, I realized I was crying. What the? I pulled in my parking spot at our townhouse and just had a good pathetic sob over my steering wheel. Growing up can be tough stuff sometimes.

Well, since that day, I still haven't figured out how to keep my sisters little. Chloe is now 12 and Lexi is 16. Sometimes it's still weird to think they're that old and sometimes I still get sad about it. Sometimes I get lost in memories of holding them when they were babies, rubbing my cheek against their fuzzy and small heads. But now they're big. No longer babies. Lexi is dating boys now. She recently went to her first Homecoming dance. She looked gorgeous and grown up in her dress, with her hair all curled and pinned up. She let me do her makeup. Chloe is in middle school now, and she's going through that weird stage of not being a little girl anymore and trying to figure out how to be a young woman. Sometimes I catch her talking about boys. One day she was bragging to me about how an 8th grader asked her, a 6th grader, to wear his football jersey. Then she quickly wiped the grin off her face and said, "I don't care though. I don't like boys." Yeah, we'll see about that.

And even though I sometimes still get sad that my little sisters aren't so little anymore, I have to admit that they're in super fun stages right now. Now that they are getting older and more mature, we act less like siblings and more like friends. I mean, Lexi is basically the only person I ever Snap Chat.

 

These photos are from the summer when my sisters slept over at my house. We set up a projector and played "Just Dance" outside. We also had a fire and stuffed ourselves with chips, hot dogs, and s'mores. Then we fell asleep in the tent. It was the absolute best night, one of those that leaves you feeling good for weeks.

Growing up is not always fun, but I think there's definitely more good than bad. I'm learning that there is beauty to each stage of life . . . and I really love the stage I'm at right now (and the people who are around to enjoy it with me). 

Never Grow Up - Taylor Swift 

Your little hands wrapped around my finger
And it's so quiet in the world tonight
Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreaming
So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

To you, everything's funny
You got nothing to regret
I'd give all I have, honey
If you could stay like that

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
Just stay this little
Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
It could stay this simple

I won't let nobody hurt you
Won't let no one break your heart
No, no one will desert you
Just try to never grow up, never grow up

You're in the car on the way to the movies
And you're mortified your mom's dropping you off
At 14, there's just so much you can't do
And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

But don't make her drop you off around the block
Remember that she's getting older, too
And don't lose the way that you dance around
In your PJs getting ready for school

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
Just stay this little
Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
It could stay this simple

No one's ever burned you
Nothing's ever left you scarred
And even though you want to
Just try to never grow up

Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room
Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home
Remember the footsteps, remember the words said
And all your little brother's favorite songs

I just realized everything I have
Is someday gonna be gone

So here I am in my new apartment
In a big city, they just dropped me off
It's so much colder than I thought it would be
So I tuck myself in and turn my night light on

Wish I'd never grown up
I wish I'd never grown up

Oh, I don't wanna grow up, wish I'd never grown up
Could still be little
Oh, I don't wanna grow up, wish I'd never grown up
It could still be simple

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
Just stay this little
Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up
It could stay this simple

Won't let nobody hurt you
Won't let no one break your heart
And even though you want to
Please try to never grow up

Don't you ever grow up
(Never grow up)
Just never grow up

Sunday Best: For Monica

dress: Old Navy, tights: vintage, boots: Old Navy, necklace: Amalooo Jewelry & Art

My friend Monica was in town this Monday, and it was so great to see her after a year of being apart. Monica is a person who just radiates light. You want to be near her because she makes you want to be brighter and better.

Sadly, there are a few people in the world who aren't like this. There are people who are toxic and constantly negative. These people sometimes crush down on you like a heavy weight. You still want to love them, but it can be draining. 

Monica isn't a heavy weight. She's a balloon person. She makes you feel like you have hundreds of colorful balloons tied to your arms and legs and they just lift you up, up through the air. Yes, I understand it's not logically possible for balloons to lift you off the ground . . . but let's just pretend we live in the world of "Up" for a moment. Monica is one of the many lifter-uppers I'm blessed to have in my life. And while she was in town, she randomly said to me, "I miss your Sunday Best posts on your blog. They're my favorite." Of course she said this basically because she's nice, but I thought I'd make the effort to do a Sunday Best just in case she was also being honest :). So this one is for you, Monica! I'm so glad I got to spend a day with you! 

These photos aren't the best because my camera is dead. And I seem to have misplaced my battery charger. I ordered a new one off Amazon so hopefully it arrives soon. And since I bought a new one, I'm willing to bet my lost one will turn up as soon as the new one arrives, which wouldn't be entirely bad. Having a back-up is always a good idea, right? So since my camera was out, BWell took these on his phone and I think they turned out just fine. 

I love this dress. Brian bought it for me a few days ago while we were in Old Navy. It was an awesome price, the cut is just lovely, and stripes are always in style! I see myself wearing this dress a lot in the future. If you haven't been to Old Navy lately, hurry your bum over there. I've been on an Old Navy kick. I just think there fall items are cute as a button (which is such an odd expression).

Happy Sunday! Here's to a great coming week. I'm going to focus my energy on being a balloon person.      

Reflecting on 2013

I love looking ahead to a new year. A fresh start. But it's also fun to look back on the last year and smile at the fun memories, remember the hardships and just realize how much of an impact 12 months can have. Here's a quick look at my 2013. 

In January, we started what would be our last semester EVER of school. I spent as many days as I could snowboarding with my little brother at Beaver Mountain and we even took our friend from Ethiopia for his first time on the slopes.

February was spent doing lots of homework . . . including homework for my billiards class. I became a little obsessed and drug Brian to the pool hall on more than one occasion. It payed off though because I ended up winning our eight ball tournament in my billiards class. On top of school work, I also started my job as a morning deejay on Utah's VFX. In other words, my social life quickly died in the month of February since I had to go in to the studio every morning at 5:30 and then straight to classes after. My bedtime ended up being at 9:30 pm. It was all worth it though since I LOVE my job. Brian also got called into the bishopric during this month. Needless to say, we saw a lot less of each other.

With March came Spring Break. Conveniently enough, Brian had Allstate meetings in Las Vegas that very same week. I took time off from work and we made a trip out of it. While BWell went to meetings all morning, I spent time by the pool reading. We also went to the Beatles Love Show, something that's been high on my bucket list for a very long time. We also ate lots of good food, visited the dolphins at The Mirage, went shopping, and did a bit of gambling. In the month of March, I also had a neat experience where I got to do a few stories for Channel 4 News. We're talking shooting, writing and editing. It was high stress but great fun.

In April, I surprised Brian for his birthday with a weekend getaway to St. George. His birthday also happened to be the weekend before finals week. So we didn't study hardly at all for our last finals. Instead, we went swimming and spent time hiking in Zion National Park. Worth it. I also jumped on the ombre hair bandwagon. Oh, and I dyed a streak of my hair Aggie Blue too.

May was an exciting month! We both earned our degrees from Utah State University. Brian was nice enough to walk with me so we didn't have to suffer through two separate ceremonies. During this month, my mom, my aunt, Brian, and I ran the Ogden Half Marathon. It poured rain during the entire race. In May, I also started writing for Cache Valley Daily and my brother received his mission call to California. 

The month of June brought a few fun trips. We spent a weekend in Park City at Sundance Resort. We stayed in a cozy small cabin and watched some Robert Redford films. We also hiked to Stewart Falls and did some shopping at the outlets. We went to Lake Powell for a few days with Brian's family in the month of June as well. BWell also opened up his second insurance office and it was all celebrating over here. I also started serving as an Activity Days Leader in my church ward. Brian and I also decided to start looking into purchasing a house but we kept it on the down low.

July was a month filled with family time. Brian's siblings came to Utah for Independence Day. We hung out with them and watched fireworks that night on the boat. We also spent as much time as possible with Jace before he left on his mission at the end of the month. We went fluming, swimming and mountain exploring with my family. I also served as Assistant Camp Director for girls' camp and July was the month of camping. We had an amazing time and ate like queens. Toward the end of July, we had our annual party with my mom's family at Bear Lake. Only a couple days after Bear Lake, my dashing brother packed his bags and we dropped him off at the MTC, saying goodbye for two years. 

In August, we celebrated our second anniversary. It seems like we spent every weekend hiking. I also went to my very first Bees' game and we went with our friends Jace and Shay. August was also fair time. It also felt very satisfying when everyone went back to school but we didn't have to.  

September. Ah, September. This was the month we bought our bungalow. As soon as we were handed the keys, we ran over to Home Depot and bought paint. We had a lot of work ahead of us. From there on out, we spent all of September prepping our home. We repainted nearly every room in the house. Boy, it was a lot of work. But it was worth it. From all the painting, packing and other manual labor, my arm muscles grew and Brian and I grew closer together too. 

October is always a favorite month and this year's didn't fail me. We moved into our new old house and continued working to make it our home. The first week of October, I went to Brave Girls' Camp with my mom. We created art in a little barn in Idaho, surrounded by women from all over the world. We entered the barn as strangers and left as sisters. BWell and I went a little overboard on Halloween. We dressed like zombies and donated canned food for our town's Zombie Walk (an annual event for our local food pantry). We were glued to our television watching scary movies. We wrapped up the month and the Halloween holiday with a friend Halloween party. 

Basically the whole month of November, I was battling a bad cold but that didn't stop me from fitting in some fun. I went to a Selena Gomez concert with my mom and sisters. We also took my sister, Chloe, to her first USU football game. We hosted Thanksgiving at our bungalow and that was quite an adventure. Thankfully, Brian's family is awesome in the kitchen . . . so they brought the food to us. After getting so sick of my longer hair that I wanted to pull it out, I chopped it all off instead. In November, I also wrote a blog post that went viral. That was a strange experience.  

December was filled with everything Christmas. We were able to spend a lot of time with our families. We finally got to meet our sweet little baby niece and we Skyped with my brother on Christmas Day. We also hosted way too many parties. By the end of the month, I think we just wanted to lock our doors and hide inside for a while. We bought ourselves an early Christmas present . . . a treadmill! Hello to working out at home. In between Christmas and New Year's, I celebrated my 23rd birthday. 

******

To be honest, 2013 wasn't my best year. On the surface, it looks great. I earned my degree and bought my first house. I still have good health and all the necessities of life, so I can't really complain. However, 2013 was a hard year for me personally. I experienced lots of doubt and faced my insecurities head on. I battled through some dark patches where I felt completely alone and the hardest part was that during the dark patches, I had to go on with life acting like there was nothing wrong at all. Looking back, I don't really know how I made it through a couple of the past months, through a handful of the last 365 days. But I did it. I kept taking steps forward, praying I'd see some light again. And now there is light all around and light all ahead for the year of 2014. I know this paragraph is very ambiguous. Perhaps one day many days from now, I'll be more comfortable with the trials I faced to talk about them. Or perhaps they'll always stay as they are now, between me and God. Either way, I just wanted to share that I had those days--months--where I just wanted to throw in the towel. We all have them even if we never talk about them. Looking back on 2013, I definitely wouldn't want to relive it . . . but I'm grateful I lived through it once. Hardships bring growth, and I've seen that in myself. When I look in the mirror now, I don't just see a person. I see a soul. And I see souls of others now when I look around me. I'm grateful that 2013 taught me to see the world with different eyes.

Happy 2014! May we all celebrate the good days and be grateful for the hard days.    

A big fat thank you

A couple photos from the mountains behind my parents' house.

To say I was surprised when my recent blog post #myhusbandisbetterthanyours went viral is an understatement. I was amazed by how many people commented, shared, thanked me, and gave positive feedback over what I had written. It's such a blessing to know I'm not alone in this journey. We are not alone. You have all inspired me to work everyday at being more supportive of those around me. A couple days after I wrote that post, Deseret News contacted me saying they wanted to share what I had written in an article. I am so thankful I received that opportunity. I can honestly say I have never felt quite so vulnerable as I did this past week, putting my words and feelings out there for others to judge. I learned that there will always be people who do not agree with you, who want to tear you down and who want to see you miserable. However, I also learned that there are many more people with sweet souls who want to lift others up and see those around them succeed. Thanks to those of you who focus your time on lifting up rather than tearing down. There is some ugliness in the world, but the good around us definitely outweighs it.

After gaining some new followers and receiving more page views, I feel slightly intimidated. Do I need to start creating thought provoking posts everyday? Will I ever get as many comments again as I did on my last post?

The answer to both of those questions is possibly "no" and I am okay with that. I originally started this blog after a professor told me that in order to be a good writer, I would have to write something every day. This blog is a place for me to practice growing as a writer. It's as simple as that. It will never be something I invest hours of my time in, it's not something I dream of making a living off of. I have many responsibilities that come before this blog and I hope it remains that way.

More than anything, this blog is a place for me to come after a long day at work and just write about anything my heart desires. If you enjoy reading along, then I am honored.

I can't promise you consistent posts, amazing giveaways or lovely pictures. I can promise you that I will always be real, honest and raw.

I've never claimed to be a blogger, but I would love to claim the title of writer.

Ahem, also there is a new button for my blog on the sidebar, so use that one from here on out. I love to do button swaps with other bloggers. One of the things I've loved about this blog is the opportunity I've had to meet so many amazing people. Email me at mrskellwell@gmail.com if ever interested. 

#myhusbandisbetterthanyours

It's the hashtag that makes me cringe above all hashtags (and there are many cringe-worthy hashtags out there). I've seen it time after time and it's always bothered me, but then I just shrug it off. It's not a big deal.

Or is it a big deal?

Marriage is not a competition. It shouldn't be. But the first year of our marriage, I quickly found that for many people that is exactly what it is. I think it even became that for me. I started to feel this icky pressure to prove to the world that Brian and I had a worthy love story. I needed to show all outsiders that our life was good, our home was clean, that I was a desirable wife, and most importantly, that Brian was a flawless husband. I posted pictures to Instagram when he brought me breakfast in bed. I wrote out a mushy Facebook status when he brought flowers home from work. Looking back on that first year, I just roll my eyes at a lot of the things I did and shared, all just to prove to others that our marriage was happy and we were lovesick for one another. What a cheap act for me to pull, really. It wasn't right for me to put Brian's acts of love on display for the world to see. It was degrading, really.

Not only was it degrading to my own relationship, but I can see clearly now how it could have been degrading to other couples. Putting everything out there, perfectly rehearsed, can be hurtful to the couple who may have just had a fight, are struggling financially or are in any other kind of a rut. When you're saying your husband is the best, someone might actually believe it, and that might bruise their heart.

I hope that each woman truly believes that her husband is the best. That's how it should be. I know Brian is the best for me. However, that gives me no right to say he's better than all other husbands. That's simply not true. Every love story is special and sacred.

I've learned my lesson. Marriage isn't a competition to be the most in love. It's not something to be put up on display for others to judge and compare themselves to. Marriage is a sacred thing between you and your companion. Sure, I love seeing the occasional mushy Facebook status from other couples and it makes me happy to hear about how your husband brought you home a really great surprise. I'm not saying to never share. I am only suggesting that maybe we all need to ask ourselves every now and again, "Am I over sharing?" Also, when we share pieces of our marriage, we can do it in a manner that enlightens and lifts others up in their own marriages and relationships. We are a community of women; from here on out I want to strive to strengthen my sisters in their own relationships. I'm so over the comparison game and I want to kick the "let me paint this picture that my life is perfect" thing in the gutter.

My husband is not perfect. He does things that drive me bonkers.

And I still love him.

#ourhusbandsrock

From Split Ends to Fresh Starts

It's outstanding how making subtle changes (or big changes) can give me a new fresh outlook on life. Something as simple as coloring my hair and trimming off some dry ends has turned me into a new woman. I wake up in the morning ready to tackle the day, starting with styling the mop on my head.

If there is something in your life that needs changing, embrace it. Sure, change can be scary but it can also be exhilarating and rewarding. Get rid of those "dry and damaged ends" in life that are dragging you down and start fresh.

Get that haircut, go after that new job, start that project, make that move, follow that dream. Big or small, positive change is healthy and essential to get where we're going.

xo Happy Monday

The Worst Happy Day

I had someone tell me that when their son entered the MTC, it was the worst happy day ever. I completely understand what she meant now.

I can't wait to get his letters and hear about his adventures. It will be so good.

And every time I start to miss him a little, I'll just wear my California shirt.

Old and New

It's kind of silly how suddenly certain things in life can change while other things seem to hold still in time, never changing and forever the same. The past week has been a bit of a blur and I am watching my life transform into something new and good right before my eyes.

I have always appreciated change, even embraced it. Never in my life though, have I found myself rushing through a stage of life, wishing for it to just be over so I could move on to the next thing. As a little girl, I would listen to my peers around me excitedly say, "I can't wait to grow up and be a teacher," or, "I want to be a mommy," or, "I'm going to be the President of the United States." When someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always shrugged my little shoulders and simply stated, "I don't know. I just like being a kid."

And I've found myself saying a similar thing through each stage of my life. As I grew a few feet taller and found myself in high school, buying bras, dating boys, and toilet papering houses, I listened to my peers as they would complain about high school and how college would be so much better. But I never felt in a rush to graduate from high school. I liked high school and I was content while I was there. Then came college where I quickly adjusted and learned to love it. Sure, I missed high school at times, just as I missed being a child at times, but I knew the change of college was good. But yet again, I was in no kind of rush to get to the next step. I tried not to think too much about a career after my college education. And I never found myself yearning for a husband. I listened to other girls say, "I really just want to get married and have babies," as they snipped out magazine clippings of wedding gowns and cake designs all the while. And I just thought, not me. I don't need anyone right now. I just like being on my own.

Then as of last week, I was a married human holding a college diploma in my hands not knowing quite what to do next. I told myself maybe this was the end of my journey. Perhaps no one would hire me. Or perhaps I would only find jobs far away, causing Brian to have to change his career at the moment. I really didn't know. For one half of a second I even thought, "Crap. Is this the part where I have to start having kids?" I immediately started missing being a student. So much to the point that I began turning possible ideas of Master's Degrees over in my mind. Any excuse to go back to school, because as far as I knew I wasn't ready for the next stage of life yet. I didn't want change.

But a week ago, things miraculously fell into place. I was offered another job with Cache Valley Media Group on top of my deejay job on 94.5 VFX. They wanted me to be a reporter for KVNU and Cache Valley Daily. I excitedly accepted. Now I'm a full-time working girl and I can't even believe how right this moment in life feels. This is exactly where I need to be. I started reporting on Monday and immediately fell in love. My first week at work has felt in many ways similar to my first week of elementary school. Everything around me is new and exciting and I just want to bounce up and down and run home and tell someone. Just like after my first day of first grade when I exclaimed to my mom how exciting PE was, and how beautiful the lunch trays at the cafeteria were, and how we got three recesses! THREE! Yeah, that's a lot how this career thing feels.

Another big change happened last week when my little brother received his mission call. We all drove to Malad, Idaho to bombard my dad at work in the middle of the day so Jace could open that wonderful envelope. And it was kind of weird to sit in my dad's office that hasn't changed much over the years (more recent photos have been added to the walls with all the old ones) and listen as Jace read he'd been called to serve in the Rancho Cucamonga, California mission. I'm afraid I will miss him terribly. I can't imagine him being away for two whole years.

As we walked out of my dad's tire shop, a tinge of sadness hit me as I took in deep breaths of rubber. Most people probably don't enjoy the smell of tires but it's one of my favorites. I think because it's nostalgic for me. I instantly think of being little and visiting Dad at work, Jace and I would weave in and out of the stacks of tires like it was a maze made just for us. Or I think of Dad pulling into the house at the end of the day. I would run to greet him, he would hug me, and I would bury my face in his shoulder that smelled of oil, gasoline, and rubber all mixed together. That smell made me happy.

After the opening of the mission call, we headed over to The Dude Ranch. It's this delicious restaurant where the owner cooks all the food. I grew up eating there and it hasn't changed a bit in all these years.

This post is really just rambling. But I guess I'm just trying to say that I'm grateful. I'm grateful for change. I am so glad I can progress in this life. And I am realizing that one of the greatest feelings is to learn how to be happy with yourself and where you're at in life. Sure, there is always room for improvement. However, I am realizing more and more how very essential it is to savor the present. It'll be gone in a flash. I'll never forget something my high school English teacher told us when we asked him what his favorite stage of life had been so far (he was in his late fifties/early sixties at the time). He thought about it a moment and then replied, "Right now. I think every time I reach a new stage in life it becomes my favorite." How beautiful is that? Sure, it's okay to reach back to the past sometimes and remember what was. And it's okay to look ahead to the future and plan for what is to come. But I think my favorite part, and the part I want to always focus on most is the now. I want to always be able to say, "Right now is my favorite."