KarlaDoesMotherhood

I run. I parent. I laugh. I eat.

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Behold. Poop-mageddon texts received from my husband today. This from a man who almost never swears!

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Bubba had an epic poop blowout, while I was away this morning! He has been in a foul mood since, but is now happily eating a tortilla.

Bubba had an epic poop blowout, while I was away this morning! He has been in a foul mood since, but is now happily eating a tortilla.

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My fake dad reading stories to my actual daughter. Also, my kid left the lights on in the minivan last night, so we needed a jump, and he came over.
Fake family FTW!

My fake dad reading stories to my actual daughter. Also, my kid left the lights on in the minivan last night, so we needed a jump, and he came over.
Fake family FTW!

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On the faith-side

I was asked to give my testimony at my mom’s group tomorrow. I’ve pasted it below. I don’t like to get overly faith-y on my blog, and I’ll put a click-through for those who don’t care or aren’t interested. For everyone else…

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Family haircut day.
Why everyone insists on straightening my hair, I’ll never know.

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Muddy Boots

There were some great perks to being a geology major in college, the best probably being all of the fun field trips we took. Hawaii and Mexico stand out as the best, but we also went all over the great Pacific Northwest.
One trip I remember was out to the Oregon and Washington coast, where the two states meet around the Columbia river. I’ll save you the details of the trip, as sand dunes and brackish water aren’t interesting for most people, but I’ll summarize my glee by exclaiming STRATIGRAPHY!
Anyway, during one part of our trip we were hiking over some tidal flats to get back to our vans. It wasn’t a big deal, until it WAS. The mud got super thick and sandy. It was not unlike what I imagine hiking through quicksand would be like. You had to keep moving or you’d get sucked into the mire, which happened to a few of us and we had to go back to pluck our friends out of the muck. It was exhausting work, each step sucking your boots almost off of your feet. But you had to keep going, there wasn’t any alternative.
I made it onto dry land, fared better than my fellow girls on the trip (geology is dominated by men, and if you want to stay alive you’d better be able to keep up relatively well and avoid whining at all costs), but I was totally spent by the effort.
I’m in a phase in my counseling that is the exact same type of experience. I’m digging through the rotten memories of my childhood that led to the coping mechanism of an eating disorder. No, I don’t have any serious trauma: I was never hurt in any way, my parents weren’t verbally abusive, heck, my parents even stayed married. But there was some neglect on their part anyway, and I started to eat.
It’s exhausting to have to dig through this crap. But in a weird way I’m also glad. If you find yourself in the middle of the mud, and there are no other alternatives, you have to keep going. Even if you lose a boot. I don’t expect to lose any boots, but I have to keep going. The upside is that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll probably always have food issues, but I feel like the process of working through everything will finally, finally provide some healing and direction.
Because I’d like to move on!