Yes, I am a grown up

Greetings--from my floor, clad in sports bra & leggings, at 2 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. Blender Bottle in hand, laundry and dishwasher running, Ellie Goulding coming from the phone speaker. It's the middle of the week, I'm not working while these things are happening, and I, the actual Queen of Restlessness, am content. 

Last week a friend of mine asked me in passing what I want to be when I grow up. Immediately my brain sent up a red flag: "Home girl, you are grown up. Why are you being asked this question? Why can't you just pull it together?", but it only took about 30 seconds for that to reset. And directly following my self-criticism came a sense of gratitude.

I'm 21, three months away from 22. I'm a full time nanny, a part time event coordinator, a super randomly part time retail sales associate, I babysit probably more than is healthy for a person with three other jobs, I'm happily dating (also a full time thing), and I am somehow amidst all the above required to be around at home because I have a furbaby. I'm a classic example of someone who probably won't finish her Bachelors' until she's 35, and more than likely won't need it by then. In terms of having my ducks in a row, I'm the bottom of the totem pole; I'm potentially not even on it if we're being honest. Additionally, I have a strange case of panic disorder that only hits at the most obnoxious, inconvenient times. I can watch someone's leg get cut off and very calmly transport them to the hospital and fix it all in a matter of hours. But if my food takes too long at a restaurant? Or I hit traffic on an on-ramp? Or (so help me) my gas light comes on late at night? The leg thing comes back and suddenly it is a catastrophe and I will not survive. Moral of the story: I am a hot mess in every true sense of the term. But I work hard. And I'm driven. And I know what I want. And I know how to take the steps to get there. Does that mean they're all always successful steps? Absolutely not. I fall short often, and hard.

So why gratitude? Why not remain in that moment of self-deprecation? Because by the books, you'll find my story in the failure section. I didn't do it right. I didn't go through the motions properly, and I probably never will. But as I got over my moment of childish defensiveness, I realized something important. Yes, I am a grown up; but on the flip side of that: no, I am not required at this exact moment in my life to have it all together. As children, we hear the "what do you want to be when you grow up?" question countless times. We're expected to have an answer, no matter how generic or robotic. We're expected to repeat that answer and quietly receive the follow-up input that's inevitable from earlier generations. We're expected to listen to financial advice, lifestyle critique...an entire laundry list of things we may not even understand. There's this gap between the oxymoronically encouraged concepts of embracing one's youth and just growing up. Our twenties are supposed to be developmental, so why is it that in our twenties we're expected to be settled where we are?
I'm growing and learning to listen and filter what I'm told. The more I filter, the more I'm reminded that regardless of what anyone in my world expects of me, the only expectations I'm required to meet at this exact moment are my own. I've got huge goals for myself, there is no doubt of that. But guess what? I don't have to be there yet. I can look at a short-term goal right now. So my expectation for today is to be content. To be at peace. To be in this moment, on my yoga mat, in front of my computer, with my protein shake and my easy playlist and my sleeping puppy and to soak up every moment of being in this place. Because I'm 21, three months away from 22, and this too shall pass.

Don't Just Survive

It's time! Today I start Thriving, and I'm going to use this one blog post to document all 4 trial days, so here goes.
I feel like I should take a moment to throw out a little disclaimer: obviously not every one's results are going to be drastic and/or immediate, this is literally just for the sake of sharing my personal experience. I'm engaging more and binging less during the day which is probably the reason for my weight loss, but the reason that is happening is because this Thrive stuff is keeping me from crashing throughout the day and feeling like I need a pick-me-up or losing my motivation to be active. So if you read this, are inspired, and want to attempt the Thrive experience, I'd be happy to link you up, but it's super important to realize that your results will be tailored to your body and its needs. Do with that what you will.

Monday, Day 1.....

Bonus: how cute is this patch?!

I got home late last night, so I woke up to run on my 5ish hours of sleep and then I remembered--I'm doing this wake-me-up stuff! I took my little vitamin capsule first thing out of the gate, threw on my little patch, and topped it all off with half of a vanilla shake as I was getting out the door at 7 [side note: I usually HATE vanilla shakes, but I actually enjoyed this one]. Other things that I usually hate include my drive to work because Charlotte drivers just aren't great and on top of that I am only half awake so. on a scale of 1-10, I have 0 patience. This morning I was about half way through my drive when I realized a few interesting facts: 1) I was singing along to the radio before 9 a.m., 2) I hadn't yelled at anyone or anything on the road, 3) I was alert, 4) I felt NOTHING. The fact that those first 3 were happening simultaneously amazed me enough, but the best part is part four. It's about 12:30 p.m. now and I'm still super awake and super energized, but I feel nothing. No weird caffeine buzz, no energy drink haze, no crash...I'm literally just functioning well. I had so much energy patience while getting my LO ready for preschool and out the door, I ate some Greek yogurt for breakfast (with a cup of coffee that I barely touched), and did some yoga while the baby slept. This might sound like a pretty average morning, but my usual morning routine is to tank coffee while I hustle to get LO out the door, which usually involves lots of exasperated sighs, tank more coffee while I make myself a massive breakfast, and then crash on the couch until my coffee kicks in enough to attempt either some exercise, cleaning, or school work (generally by that time the baby is up again).
It's now 2:30 p.m. and I'm still firing on all cylinders. I'm eating a salad (on purpose) while I wait for my macaroni to finish boiling and then I might probably will eat the whole pot, unless this miracle substance doesn't make me want to do so. This is usually the time of day when I crash and have to really rally to make it through the afternoon, but not today!

Okay, end of the day. I spent about 7 hours with one set of little ones, another 4 hours with a second set, went to the gym and lifted for an hour, and got home at 11:50 p.m. feeling perfectly fine. Sleepy, but not totally drained. I yawned a grand total of one time today, which wasn't until 10:15 p.m.

Tuesday, Day 2.....
I didn't wake up quite as quickly this morning, but I still feel so good and it's 8:30 (not a thing for me). Side note: I'm so intrigued by this stuff that I signed up to be a promoter literally 4 hours in yesterday, so there's that. My order should be arriving by the end of the week, and hopefully Thursday as opposed to Friday so that I don't have to go without. Also I weighed myself this morning, just for fun, and I am down 3.2 pounds in roughly 24 hours!


My order will be here THURSDAY, which is the most perfect timing! I ordered both men's and women's stuff cause I had a lot more guys ask me about my little "Jesus patch" than I expected.
About the day: I worked my regular nanny day from 7:45 a.m. to about 4:45 p.m., I went for a 35 minute jog, I bolted right to a 3ish hour babysitting job, and still squeezed in a lift at 10 p.m., feeling as strong (and awake) as ever.

Wednesday, Day 3.....
Still awake, still happy, and still not feeling any kind of weird buzz or any kind of side effect really. This is the third day that I'm drinking my morning coffee because I actually enjoy a cup of coffee and not because I need it to glue my brain together. I spent the majority of today rolling on the floor with the baby and I felt pretty hyper productive through a lunch date, errands, catching up with my housemates, leg day (always the best), and now this. And homework. I've got that too. I'm a little bit more sleepy tonight but I still have it in me to do the important things like procrastinate homework by writing this blog and watching The Voice. Tomorrow is Day 4 out of 4 and I don't count on tomorrow not working, but tomorrow is my final review!

Thursday, Day 4.....

Directly on the crook of ones dominant arm=
probably not the best place to put an adhesive skin patch

I'm sleepier this morning than I have been the past three, but I still feel like I can tackle the day. Four consecutive nights of not going to bed at a decent hour and having to wake up at 6 a.m. probably has a little somethin' to do with that, and this isn't some kind of miracle formula that's going to make up for me making poor sleeping habit choices. I also placed my patch in a questionable place today which probably doesn't affect its effectiveness, but I'm curious to see how it holds up throughout the day. I haven't lost any additional weight these last 24 hours, but I wasn't expecting to and really wasn't counting on this thing to drop my weight so much as give me the energy & motivation to do so on my own. Baby had a hard morning, but it didn't drain me like it has in the past.
3 p.m. and I come to my keyboard with remorse (a little). When I went to pick up my 2 year old nanny baby from preschool today, she informed me that she wanted donuts and her teacher followed up by telling me it was Hero Day at Krispy Kreme-buy one dozen, get one free. Game,set, match. I now know that Thrive is no match for the Krispy Kreme HOT sign. But I only ate one two the whole day and didn't want any more after that.
I went for a run when I came home from work and that wasn't great, but I was suuuper dehydrated. Tears + not replenishing enough water + direct sun does not make for a happy runner. I also had ice cream that the boyfriend forced upon me at dinner, but I didn't want to finish much more than half of that because for the first time in forever my sweet tooth has not been ruling my body.

All in all, I'm beyond happy with my results. This is not some kind of life-saving remedy for the weight loss/energy problems, but I can say that using it makes me feel more awake, more alert, more energized, and overall healthier. And let's be honest, it should be more important to us to be healthy-if skinny comes along with it, then that's awesome.

If you have any questions at all, please reach out and ask them!

I highly recommend trying this stuff for yourself, and if you want to do so or just know more, get in touch with me and/or visit kristijoy.le-vel.com/

#AllTheThings

Hi, it's me again, the self-proclaimed queen of doing all the things. I watch all the Netflix, eat all the foods, sip all the drinks, work all the jobs. All the things.

Perhaps I'm the only one, but I have recently realized in myself that while change terrifies me, I am obsessed with novelty. I love new seasons, new apparel, new words, new episodes on Netflix...new is kind of my jam. The most definitive word I could come up with for this piece of me is "neophiliac" although I don't think I'm quite as intense as the dictionary definition [that may just be denial].

My most regular experimental victim is my body, which pretty much runs on a weird rotation of whatever I feel like doing on any given day. You name it, I've done it. From South Beach to military crash diets, vegetarianism, lactose-free; weight-lifting, running, HIIT, Zumba, yoga--you get the point: all the things. I think I've settled on a few things that work for me but my diet is an incessant struggle. Pretty much I eat to keep myself awake and mobile. I thrive on coffee and snacks that serve to both keep me busy and give me surges of what might be energy (jury's still out on how real that is), and I don't think I can live like that much longer. 

Last week I noticed I'm often dehydrated so I decided to work on drinking a gallon of water a day. I'll be the first to admit that I have not managed to finish the entire gallon every day, but I have noticed a significant difference in the way I feel and look the mornings after I have reached my goal. I feel less bloated, less dry, and look less swollen, which doesn't sound like much but if you know me you know that mornings in my world are sucky and I have always struggled with feeling gross when I wake up which tends to set my day on a not-great path.

Now, a gallon of water is no simple feat for someone like me whose life blood consists primarily of espresso and although it's challenging, it's not quite enough to counterbalance my afternoon snack attacks or my evening Netflix-and-eat sugar crashes. So I'm trying another new thing starting Monday. It's called Thrive and to be honest, I have not done my research but it worked for my boss and I'm getting pretty sick of having 0 energy, so why not? If you're curious about it, you're more than welcome to look into it on your own: https://kristinmockler.le-vel.com/, but I will be documenting my thoughts on Thriving and sharing them on Thursday evening/Friday morning. Stay tuned for developments!

Sometimes when you're being a kinesthetic learner and, to the perception of the outside eye, not paying attention in class (Zooey Deschanel quotes on Pinterest do the trick), inspiration strikes. That's my current situation and in a few minutes my Econ professor will be less than pleased with the volume level of my typing, but it's fine. [sidebar: I really am not suffering, I know how to filter him]

For all I know, this post is redundant, but I couldn't tell you for sure because I've stopped doing that cute thing where I spend hours reading back through my own blog. Life is doing that equally cute thing where it allows me zero time for things like blogging and reading and especially blog-reading.
Moving on:

All too common the thought (especially in women) that we are "not enough" is a common denominator in every moment of day-to-day life,

I fail to take proper care of my body. I am an insufficient employee. I don't produce high enough grades. I am a failure as a mother, wife, girlfriend, sister, daughter.

and it is so easy to read a self-help book or an empowering article and tell ourselves that we are sufficient, put on our big kid pants, and face the day with a brave face and an overloaded mental back-burner. The number of times a week that I go through the motions of pulling it together is probably pretty high, but to most of us it is second-nature. It is a learned habit that no longer affects us regularly, only when life hits extra hard.
But now that I have learned how to handle feeling inadequate, a new weed has taken root and begun working its way through the cracks in my thought wall.
I am too much.
I spend too much time on my body. I work too much. I worry too much about my schoolwork. I am too outgoing. I am too emotional. I am too involved.
I am too much.
Now, to say that I know where this thought came from and I know how to tackle it would be lying to myself. I have absolutely no clue. One would think that in conquering my misconception of inadequacy, I should be able to find confidence and even joy in believing my own adequacy to conquer the terror that is daily life. Cruel trick of fate: contentment stopped by for a visit and then went off on vacation again and although my life is in a happy, positive place, I somehow am not properly geared for it. I have compassionate, invested friends, a caring family, and a happy, simple relationship, and somehow I am constantly terrified by the idea of my unbridled self tearing my own life apart. How does that even make sense...?
I am scared of my personality overwhelming my family, of my needs overwhelming my friends, of my emotions overwhelming my boyfriend, and leaving me in a place of loneliness with nowhere to invest the excess that is me as a human. The result is the locking up and concealing of that personal excess and leaving myself in the same place of loneliness that I'm trying to avoid. Trust me, my mind is a place that no one wants to inhabit or investigate right now. It is more often than not a pit of chaos where I tuck away all of my feelings and thoughts and needs so that outwardly I can keep it together-outwardly I can care for others and complete daily functions without affecting anyone else with my needs.
But what does it actually mean to be too much? Excess is defined as an amount of something that is more than necessary, or a lack of moderation. Excess often holds a negative connotation; it is an undesirable trait. We trim the excess fat off our meats, we remove excess words from our writing...excess is something we don't want, it is something we are not inclined toward or prepared for. But excess in and of itself is not a bad thing-excess can be channeled and utilized.
Excess passion can be distributed into action, excess emotion can be translated into compassion, excess involvement can warrant productivity. Because life was meant not only to be lived, but experienced. There is the opportunity to witness beauty in every breath, and a little excess capacity to be affected by life's little moments may be just what some of us need.

"Don't let someone steal your tenderness. Don't allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to be affected by things...feel it all-look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love."

Upward Falling

The past month has been one hit after another.
A month ago I was in a wreck and told to lay low for a week or two.
A day later I underwent a pretty not-awesome relationship loss.
The following week, my dog's health declined and for a few days his death was almost imminent.
A week later, I came down with a virus that tore up my throat and respiratory system.
My mom's health took a hit a week ago and I spent the week between hospital and home, scrambling to make sure she was okay--to make sure everyone else is okay.

Since the day of that wreck, I have been a wreck; when people ask how I am doing, I find it harder and harder to respond with the peppy, expected: "I'm great". For a few days I spent every second alone in tears, asking myself and God why He just kept taking from me when I thought I was at my peak. I had lost everything but my joy and I was terrified that even that could start slipping at any second.

But today I woke up and rolled over and decided to do something about it. My shoulders aren't tight anymore, I'm no longer disoriented, and this mess stops now. So I took a run, to clear my head and to kind of kick start myself back into a routine, and goodness did it hurt. It was the kind of pain that breaks you, it was weakness pain. My body wanted to quit, my mind wanted to retreat, and my spirit wanted to lie down, and when I was finished, I felt the full displeasure of my legs and my lungs.

Life has been a mess, I have been a mess, and that is still the case for the time being. You know how a lot of times we have revelations of God? "But God moments", if you will. Well that's not a thing for me right now. And after eating and stretching, I sat on my yoga mat and just pouted for a minute. Where is my moment? When does this get better? Why can't life just cut me some slack?

"My heart beating, my soul breathing, I found my life when I laid it down.

Upward falling, Spirit soaring, I touch the sky when my knees hit the ground."

Hillsong United, Touch the Sky

I don't need a moment, I've got a lifetime. I don't need to just snap out of my trials, and the fact of the matter is that I'm not going to. And that's okay, because when my life crumbles, the pieces are falling upward and every time I need to be rebuilt He constructs something stronger and more beautiful and more powerful than my own vision. 

{I have seen the task that God has given people to keep them occupied. He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also put eternity in their hearts, but man cannot discover the work God has done from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11}

Held.

Sometimes life just hurts.

Sometimes I feel weak, alone, and empty.

Today was one of those days. This morning I was drenched in God's presence, but as soon as I stepped out of the church building life smacked me in the face simply because it was April 19th and April 19th is an emotional day. I spent most of the day angry. Angry at my family for having the nerve to address me on a hard day. Angry at my friends for not responding immediately to my texts. Angry at God for taking away one of my biggest inspirations and forcing me to live the past two years, and the rest of my life, without her. I ugly-cried way more than I like to believe is possible, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I slammed my fists on my steering wheel. I lost it. I was overwhelmed, I was exhausted, I was broken, and I thought that I had completely drained myself of the God-connection I had fed and prayed for and soaked in only hours earlier. So I did the only thing I could think to do-I wrapped myself in a blanket, I turned off the lights, I turned on our then-favorite worship music playlist, and I read three years worth of old messages. Tear-jerking, gut-wrenching messages that reminded me of how difficult her journey was and refreshed my anger because she didn't. want. to go. But then I turned my focus. I read my messages to her. Heart-breaking messages that reminded me of how broken I was.

You know, it's amazing when we just take a second and gain some perspective; when we step back and look at the bigger picture. Because throughout those thousands of confessions and rants and breakdowns, the healing was palpable. Just by her listening and loving and being. One of the last messages I have from her is a whole description of how she shared her story with someone to encourage self-forgiveness. She opened herself up and made herself vulnerable. She let her story speak for itself and do its work in someone else's life, and "through that talk...I am now able to say...it is well with my soul...."

He knows us and He meets us. He met her right where she was, every time. She found God in her pain and her failure. That's where He met her and that's where she allowed Him to hold her-right in the middle of it all.

Here I sit in the wake of hours and hours of grief and confusion and here He holds me. Here He wipes my tears and here He speaks into me. Here in the middle of my ugly and my angry and my screaming and crying, I feel held and I feel at peace. This day may never get any easier as the years continue to roll by. This day may always be filled with crocodile tears and gruff sobbing and hysteric screaming. And that's okay because He can take all of those things and in the midst of it all simply hold me to His heart.

It's okay

Okay is not a good word in our society; in fact it is generally a bad one.
Okay is the last acceptable answer before someone asks how they can help.

Okay means not good, not good means bad, bad means not good, so on and so forth, and Heaven forbid something not be good.

I am the actual queen of not being okay with just okay. I've come to terms with the impossibility of perfection, but good isn't perfect. Good is just better than bad--better than okay. Good is the in-between. Good is the healthy medium where I have found peace in not being able to please the masses. Good is my comfort zone. Good is good for me.
Bad is not. Bad is uncomfortable, it's judge-able, it's frowned upon. Bad is ugly and ugly is bad and bad is not good--it's a sick cycle.

But sometimes it's okay--even good--to just be okay, or even to be not okay. Not okay usually hurts. Not okay usually involves some rejection and some ugly thoughts and ugly conversations and, on occasion, some ugly crying. We aren't perfect, we aren't expected to be perfect; we are just so incredibly human, and nowhere in any definition of that word will you find correspondence with perfection. It's okay to ugly cry yourself to sleep, it's okay to let things hit you a little harder than they should, it's okay to be a little dramatic, it's okay to rant, it's okay to scream and yell and hit things. Because on days where internally I feel nothing but ugly and not okay and consequently angry, I stumble across old messages and notes from the first person in my life who taught me that being okay {and not okay} are in fact, in the truest sense of the word, okay.
I miss her and I wish that I could say that she would fill every one of my many holes.

"you know I love you more than yesterday and somehow less than tomorrow"

But the fact of the matter is that I'm a mess. In the deepest parts of me I am a mess and will always be a mess and know how to be nothing other than that, and that's okay with me and it is okay with God and it was okay with her.

"keep your head up princess...or the crown falls"

She knew it. She understood it. We were matching messes.

"I love God...I love him in my darkness. More so in my light. But when it's dark...when I can barely breathe...sometimes I will just sit in my driveway and light up a cigarette and stare into the night sky and spill my soul. Because for once I'm not afraid of not being loved back."

Because for once I don't have to be afraid of rejection.

Because for once I don't have to be afraid of okay.