Lili

My very sweet niece, (who shows her disapproval to dad's lame dance moves at their dance party before bed by saying, shaking her head and raising her hand in protest, "Oi, dah....oi.") is very sick and in the hospital. I have a very special bond with this little angel and my heart is heavier every second I can't be there to make her laugh.

Prayers on her behalf are very much needed, wanted, and appreciated. thank you thank you thank you.

anthro forest

My dear friend Mikhaila and I had a brainstorming session the other night for the nursery. Here's what it looked like. If you hate it, its okay. But I'm tickled with it.

Project nursery begins after Christmas. Any volunteers?

Also, as promised, Mr. Stoneman's gift is taking shape in all its glory at this very moment.

I hesitate to click “publish”, but here it is

This

 

Is what a very satisfied college graduate looks like. Only took me 7 years to get a bachelor’s degree, but I already feel (and OBVIOUSLY look) smarter.  Although I did just finish classes at ASU, so maybe not MUCH smarter…..is smarter a word?

On an unrelated note, I have realized how pathetic I am. I have discovered through experimentation that I can only survive one night without Mr. Stoneman. Anytime I’m at home alone, hear his voice on the phone, or hang up the phone after a conversation with him (or about him), I cry. I know! I know! It’s ridiculous.  I’ve lost my independence.

Truth be told, I don’t know what I’m getting the Mr. for Christmas yet.  The cats out of the bag.  Sorry babe, it’s true.  But, I WILL have something fantastic, and despite the fact that you tell me daily NOT to get you anything, you and I both know I will, and it will be glorious. 

Let me clarify my previous post.  My midwife did not up my due date, she just made it more accurate.  My previous method of determining conception was less accurate, so no, my midwife is not horrible woman who makes up new due dates, just real good at what she does.

And finally, please, I beg of you, my sweet readership (do I have a readership?  perhaps I’m speaking to myself here), do not, under any circumstances if we happen to converse one with another, tell me what my life will be like, what my marriage will suffer, what I will look like, or what hygiene I will or will not have before, during, and after having children.  I know its hard.  I know its exhausting.  I promise, nothing you will say, as nothing anyone else said to you, will really sink in until it actually happens to me.  I enjoy being informed, but please, I can’t take it anymore. And certainly not for 3.5 more months.  Please.  Feel free to forward this message to anyone who I might come in contact with.

Please also note that this is not a reprimand for any previous post comments, just a plea to others who might understand that for some reason everyone I have a conversation with feels it necessary to tell me my life will be miserable because of my decision to have babies.  My heart (and psyche) just can’t take it anymore.  (consider this my response to this post)

I will gladly accept any nursery (and gift) ideas!  Indecision is crippling me.  I’m thinking anthropologie forest?

22

So my midwife bumped me up a little, as did the ultrasound. So here I am, 22 weeks.

Okay, my family knows now, and apparently all of facebook (thanks Cole)

This was quite the shocker. NO ONE but my midwife (after listening to 3 thumpings of his very strong heart) guessed a boy. EVERYONE (Cole, Kaden, the Chinese gender calendar, my all-knowing bf who connects with feti (as in more than one fetus), and the witchcraft my sister showed me) said girl. Go figure. That's what I get for using witchcraftery.

He's currently going CRAZY in my belly, and so far he loves yoga and hates everything and anything I eat. More to update soon.

For those of you dying to know what he'll look like, click here

Faces give you away.

So I spoke at a breakfast for father's a few weeks ago and had a great time telling my story to them.  My purpose was to tell them of my father's influence on my life, and more directly, on my spiral into, and my recovery from, my eating disorder.  It was amazing to share to these men. Some of them you've probably heard of.  Some of them were crying.  And some of them came up and thanked me afterward, telling me how much what I said meant to them and how it will make them a better father.  

Randy Johnson was one of them.  I must admit, it was awkward to look up to the towering man.  The only place to revert your eyes is to the ceiling tiles.

But meeting celebs is nothing new to me.  Me and Dierks Bentley are like THIS, as he practices at my yoga studio.  So does most of the SUNS team.  I helped Tamia Hill sign a new student waiver.  Ain’t no thang.

But apparently I don’t keep my cool as well as I thought.  This is the only face I could make while Randy thanked me.  Good one Rem.

Today I fully plan on staying in bed most of the day.  Its my day off and I can lay if I want to. But I doubt our messy house will stop taunting me, and then I'll break down and clean because I should.  And I'm hoping my nose will stop running and I can stop hacking long enough to go outside and enjoy this beautiful weather.  Maybe yoga today?

In other news, I should be blogging more often as I’m feeling better every day, I'm obsessed with my midwife, heard the heartbeat this week, and now know the gender of my baby.  But I'm not telling.  yet.

Dear Whitney,

Thank you for being so bossy.

As your older sister, I try not to take it personally that my little sister knows more about life than I do.

My child will now have a name, a midwife, and a very stylish bedroom because you were here for 5 seconds to slap me in my face and make me stop feeling sorry for myself (thank you for getting mom to announce that I was the most complaining pregnant daughter....we're all better for knowing that, although we all know that Lindsey is)

Also, thank you for making me feel special by just wanting me around. Even if all I did was complain.

You're loving sister,

Remi

ps. Satchel could not be more adorable.

18.5 weeks!

And I might add, after a very large Sunday dinner (and dessert. maybe two helpings.)

saving one life at a time...that's just what I do folks.

I guarantee you that Randy Johnson's son will NEVER have an eating disorder. If he does, he sure fooled me with those glistening tears from the first row as I shared the depth of my soul with the 8th graders today.

So I spoke to a bunch of celebrity children at a private school this afternoon. They were angels. Nothing like those spawn of satan Freshman I spoke to at Friday's school. I was sure after I left there that I was a loser, my story was a loser, and my loser face was a horrible thing to behold, so they stared at their phones instead.....I felt like I was IN high school again (think flashback of Josie Grosey, Never Been Kissed style)

Highlights this past week:
1. I was told by my superior at work that referring to the vampire child in the Twilight series as my own fetus was ruining our psychological relationship. I told her I was teaching my fetus a sense of humor, but nonetheless, I stopped.

2. While having over some rather swell guests, we were surprised to see a raccoon hop onto the fence a few feet away from us. It was tail-less. I won't mention what Cole attempted to do to it to get a closer look, but it may have involved a Christmas gift from our brother-in-law Bryan that may or may not be used as a tribal weapon.

3. my superhero family once again shows its superpowers: Bryan completes the Kona Ironman, and Kylan bikes 100 miles. No big deal, it was just his first time ever attempting such a feat. And no big deal, he just got 14th place or something. out of 650. Did I mention Bryan ran 26 miles, biked 112, and swam 2.1? Superhero family? I think so.

[if it wasn't 14th it was something like that....he told me but sometimes my numbers get all mixed up]

[baby momma pictures to come soon....I haven't convinced anyone I look pregnant yet...though I most certainly do!]

One Hundredth post

This is a big post! Monumental, I would say.

I've rewritten this post approximately 15 times, trying to figure out exactly how to express what I want to say so it comes out as the happiest news of my life.

I'm PREGNANT!

(I chose light green because its a very unisex color, from what I hear)

woo hoo! I'm psyched. TOTALLY psyched.

But think its a rather sick joke that you have to be the sickest of your life when no one knows because it just makes the suffering so lonely.

okay, that's all I'll say about that, because I have much more to say about it, but don't want to.

I'm sick of talking about being sick. (although sorry mr stoneman, you're not off the hook quite yet)

I'm even sicker of being sick.

But that's all I'm going to say about that.

So, I'm super excited, and as SOON as I feel better and my schedule relaxes a bit, I'm SO excited to go shop, look for paint colors, be nice to my husband, and talk serious hand-me-down business to all my sisters.
(whit, I'm really hoping that crib ships well.)

Soon to come, a post all about what things NOT to say (or do) to a pregnant, eating disorder recovered woman.

the night we found out and shared the news with his family

And the moral of the story is.....

So I’ve got a job now. Two, actually, and I’m (almost)a full-time student. I’m also training to be a yoga instructor, so my schedule is pretty insane.

Please let me know if you will let me practice on you after I become certified. I'm really good and really expensive. :)

Today I worked with an interesting character at my yoga studio. She was pretty upset at life in general. So much so that she talked about the banks, credit cards, call centers, and the economy and used a few choice words to describe how her contribution to it makes her feel. She also told me exactly how she felt about conservative republicans, and how many of them were here in the valley. She said it was disgusting. I told her I was surprised to know that, even though I was one of them. She was unapologetic for bashing me for 30 minutes.

That being said, a woman walked in with a mat in one arm and asked for a hair tie. My coworker was anxious to oblige and handed it to her but the woman asked if she could put it in for her. She said I should do it because I was used to doing hair. The woman said she didn’t care how it looked. As my coworker struggled with the ponytail, she expressed her frustration and finally said, “I feel like I have two left hands!”

The woman who asked for help was a very well known client. She came often and brought in her family often. It was also well known that she only had one arm. One RIGHT arm.

Without missing a beat, the woman looked at her and said, “Can I have one?”

After a brief moment at being absolutely MORTIFIED as SOON as she said the original “two left hands” comment, I broke down and started laughing at my coworker’s accident. Silently. It hurt my stomach. I’m pretty sure it was unhealthy to laugh that hard without expressing a noise.

All I can say to my little coworker is this:

Karma.

WARNING: the following information is intense and may not be suitable for all audiences....

I remember sitting across from the dietician. she asked me when I had last gotten sick. I told her not since last week. She raised her eyebrows and said no one just stops after getting sick 4-5 times a day for the past year and starving themselves before that.

My counselors said they just kept waiting for the bottom to drop out. But it never did.

I had an eating disorder for 5 years, but the irony is that most of that time I didn't even know it. I was surrounded by so many other people on diets;  I thought they were doing the same thing I was and therefore didn't find anything wrong with it. Eventually those thoughts went from "everyone is doing it" to "no one else thinks what I'm thinking, or does what I'm doing".  That was when I started to lie about it, to hide what I was eating or wasn't eating, to hide the fact that I was making myself sick, and to separate myself from anyone that would become suspicious, even those that were dearest to me.  And that, my friends, was a very lonely place.

Many of you don't know this deepest darkest secret of mine, probably because it  was just that, a deep dark secret, and you know how those work.  I hid it, because I was ashamed and embarrassed and worried about what people would think of me. But I promised my Father in Heaven that if He could make even MY weakness a strength (see Ether 12:27...I seriously thought I was the exception), then I would do anything and everything I could to make sure NO ONE feels like I felt. And I can't help those who don't know who to go to for help (or rather, who can direct them to the best help.)

When I was younger and heard about people that had addictions like smoking, drinking, drugs, or even eating disorders, I thought they were bad people. I just knew that People that starved themselves were vain and foolish and all they wanted was to look good at any cost.

It wasn't until I became one of them that I realized how untrue those farces were.

I'm not a bad person, for the record. I'm quite a good person, actually. I even got a young women in excellence award in 2002, and a leadership scholarship in 2004. beat that. I also served an amazing mission, where I had the opportunity of serving people and helping people come to Christ every day, multiple times daily. Unfortunately, that didn't leave me exempt from the feelings and emotions that lead to eating disorders.

Why the somber tell-all?  I guess its a big leap for me, as I’m unsure what response to expect from all of you.  But, I feet it necessary to express my deep love for what I do now, and who I am now.  Still the same person, just one that I accept and love for exactly what it is.  I don't think you could truly know the depth of my gratitude to my Savior and to my Father and to my current circumstances (job, AMAZING husband, etc) without first knowing why I'm passionate about it.

This is what led me to choose BOTH of my current jobs.  The one I want to focus on in this post is  notMYkid.org, a nonprofit organization where people that have recovered from addictions go into schools and tell their story, in hopes that if we can get them (the kids) living it first hand through OUR story, they'll choose not to live it first hand themselves.  I've only spoken twice now, but its already one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. Once I went to the Juvenile Detention Center, and once to an elementary school, where I was approached on two occasions from girls that struggled with eating disorders themselves. At the ripe old age of 12.

Well, yours truly just got promoted to the best/most daunting/most spiritually, emotionally,and behaviorally challenging job I've ever had. Its a very sobering position to be in, listening to the unedited version of people's stories that have been addicted to meth for 10 years, or hear a parent tell me how they were too ignorant and naive and scared to recognize their former eagle scout was addicted to heroin. I walked out yesterday drained and grateful, scared and proud. I can't imagine, and I am SO GRATEFUL that I can't imagine what that would be like, parents searching for me behind dumpsters, washing my clothes that I found in a hotel bathtub, waking up under an overpass in the arms of some unknown man in an unknown city with a dirty needle next to my body. I try to hide my horror and sadness, but I'm afraid I'm not very good at it. My only fear with my new job is that I'll get good at it pretty quick.  The shock factor will wear away, I won't cringe at hearing how many times they've lost loved ones, how they felt seeing their parents cry, or how many times they slept in trash cans.

But I can truly say that I love what

I do, and I love where I am, and most of all, I love WHO I am.  

And that, my friends, is a dream. come. true.

Okay. OKAY!

I've had some requests for pictures of the new do:

...and I can't even make a non-ridiculous face!

PSYCH!

I did NOT do that to my hair.

But I did have a bf that had a birthday, and celebration was past-due. I wanted to take her somewhere special for her birthday. somewhere classy.

AND I may have wanted to prove that I was smarter than her.

REWIND one month:

Remi: Elizabeth! I'm cutting my hair! Short! Hooray! (lots of excitement)

E: Remi, you CANNOT cut your hair. You can't pull of short hair. (excitement killer)

Remi: (wide-mouth, wide-eyed "I can't believe she just said that" face)WHAT???!!!! YES I CAN (VERY offended) Everyone looks better with shorter hair! Katie Holmes, for example.

E: PICTURES Rem. NOT reality. People spend hours making her look like that.

Remi: I've been searching PAPARAZZI photos, Elizabeth (still VERY offended that she wouldn't think I would practice very accurate research)

E: Those are pictures, not real life. Real life is different.

Remi: Whatever. EVERYONE looks better with short hair. (still VERY offended...probably stomped away like a stubborn child)

So....OBVIOUSLY I had to set out to prove her wrong, right? when would be a better day to do that very thing than on her birthday?! I know not.

I gave her a few weeks to forget the conversation, and then planned her birthday party. Here's some other ideas.

flashback of the first day of 6th grade. a reminder

why I haven't gone short since.

I'm always saying really profound things, so I'm glad she caught this one on camera. I must be saying something about the Sound of Music.

oh.my.gosh. My head is huge.

I think I made my point with the above picture. she's beautiful.

But, is it just me, or does this picture look more like a glamour shot than any others???

They didn't have any that were any shorter than these....which was what I really wanted.

BEST part of the shananagans......buying wig caps, talking about why they only let you try on three unless you have a wig cap on to prevent from health issues. I open it, and its full of HOLES! I ask how in the WORLD this keeps lice out? They say it just does. I ask about more safety precautions they take in their store, and if they'd ever had problems with lice, to which one of the girls said, "Just in Kindergarten. Well, lots of times in Kindergarten."

Blank stares.

Wondering if she ever tried on one of OUR wigs......a little nervous. and itchy.

This is what is looks like currently. pretty much the same. But I WILL cut it!!!! I will. I will......I just need cut ideas. and a wider variety of wigs.

So glad I did it.

Okayokayokayokayokay! So I chickened out! But seriously, I LOVE my hair. pictures soon.



and, okay, so I may or may not have a hidden post that I was embarrassed of. Its a video that has been on my parents computer forever, and I have had NO WAY of transferring it without burning it to a cd, and I couldn't figure out how to do it. My sister has convinced me there is no need to be. embarrassed, as she is ALSO in this video. This was seriously one of the most fun nights of my life. So, without further ado.......meet the wanna b's.

My hair cut is tomorrow.

I did (like, wore it down without a hat on, and actually put some HAIR SPRAY in it....haven't used that stuff in years....its probably still aerosol) my hair for the first time in MONTHS and really liked it the other day. So, of course, I might chicken out and not donate the locks this time around.

wish me luck.

about to

I JUST got back from San Diego, its 115 degrees, and I'm five seconds from doing this. or this. okay okay okay, maybe more like this.

talk me out of it.

hurry.

before this weather makes me do something crazy.

TV or no TV: That is THE question.

phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey Rem! You want a TV? One just got dropped off at my house and I'll give it to you ABSOLUTELY FREE!"

(this is not the first, not second, but THIRD time a free TV has been offered to us)

"uh, hey thanks. let me talk to the Mr. about it."

"oh.....(confused). It's free!?...you know that, right?"

"yeah, got it. thanks."

Mr. walks in "who was that?"

"uh…..no one." (guilty look on face and Mr. Stoneman gives me the the me guess its about a tv look)

And so it goes.

Now that our short-lived modeling career is over(thanks to those that helped me figure out the best one!), on to less (or more) trivial things.

I hate TV's. I do. Scratch that, I hate OWNing a tv. To me, any background noise is my home is obnoxious. Including music- and although I find it sometimes pleasurable, for the most part I keep my mouth shut and let Mr. Stoneman blast Ray Lamontagne throughout our little home and whistle along.

So you can call me crazy, extreme, controlling, blah, blah, blah, but I've read more books in the past year than I have in my entire life. why? because its the first time I haven't had a tv to sit in front of and a show to find an excuse to watch. And, my husband may or may not have a hard time sometimes being completely "present" in our conversations, especially when a laptop anywhere in the vicinity is involved.

My argument: I've seen you sit in front of a tv and watch it all night.

His argument: ONLY during basketball season!

My argument: and football season

His argument: okay, then too.

My argument: that's like, 90% of the year!

His argument: You even say that when you restrict something from yourself, you crave it more when its around

My argument: your body NEEDS carbohydrates and fats, babe, it doesn't need to sit in front of a television.

and on and on and on it goes.

He's not the only one guilty either. I'm sure if I had a tv I would be right on the bandwagon of the Bachelor, Bachelorette, So You Think You Can Dance, Dancing With the Stars, American Idol, America's Got Talent, Lost, and maybe even 24 (because I have been known to watch Alias for hours on end). But then what? I would know all the facts about people and get emotionally involved with people I've never met, probably don't have great morals, and for the most part, be judging them and picking apart every single bad habit, off-pitch, off-beat, off-base moment they have. And what life is that?

Being "present" at that point would not just be hard for ONE of us (shhhhh....honey one second, she's just about to give her final rose!)

Anyway, I know I'm ranting, and may sound upset (i'm not, just opinionated), but I would really appreciate those who own or don't own or used to own a tv to let me know your thoughts on just why you own or don't own or used to own a tv, as I’d like to be open to new ways of thinking in this matter:)

pros and cons are much appreciated.

THEY'RE UP!

Check 'em out here.

And let me know which one is your fav.

We have about a billion to choose from.

Raise your hand

if you can say you were kicked out of the Juvenile Detention Center for unusual amounts of violence today.

boo yeah.

I love my job.

Saluting the Stone(WO)mans

I’m embarrassed to start out a tribute post with this, but I saw this in a magazine and couldn’t help myself.  It was PEOPLE. A picture on the front that read, "Adam admits 'I'm gay'". 

Seriously? 

Raise your hand if you REALLY needed a magazine to tell you that.

On to more important news.....I've been a Stoneman for over a year.  And contrary to popular belief, being the ONLY daughter-in-law has its downsides.  Sure, you're the favorite, but what choice do they have?  Yes, the nieces and nephews adore you, the parents give you great gifts and make you feel like a million bucks every time you see them, but the 20 year old Chihuahua will ALWAYS bite your ankles, and

(are you ready for this?  this is something NO ONE tells you). 

When you marry up, it means the girls in the family are “up” too, meaning you have a lot to live UP to.  A few things I’ve started to learn by example.

 (serious hotness all around in this one.)

Hair:

Mom/Sister 2- hair trimmed every six weeks.  Always perfectly primped (and on the rarest, most desperate occasion, dyed or tattooed).  Always beautiful.

Sister 1- Grows her beautiful curly locks out until its long enough to cut and give to cancer patience in the ghettos of northern Moscow.

Me- doesn’t remember the last time she got her hair cut, doesn’t do her hair.  ever.  and a kid in the ward asked why she wore a nest on the back of her head every day.

Cleanliness:

Mom- will always apologize for the mess, although upon serious inspection, not a button collection is out of place. Washes her sheets weekly.  And house always smells like freshly lit candles, although I still haven’t figured out how one candle permeates la casa grande.

Sister 1- Washes her sheets daily, as she houses one or all of us at any given hour. At first smell, the house has a hint of marijuana- Mr. Stoneman and I exchange confused/horrified/humored looks and discover dried burnt sage smells exactly the same.  ALWAYS smells good, whether its another creation on the stove or incense burning.

Sister 2- Has 4 kids and somehow has an immaculate house always.  Never smells like food- always essential oils. Washes sheets every other week.

Me- Have been searching for the past 10 months for something to cover up the smell of sausage and garlic that seeps in from downstairs.  No luck yet.

oh yeah, and I just learned from them washing sheets every 4 months isn’t exactly “sanitary”.  who knew.

Grandma love:

Mom, Sister 2- Immediately call every day, multiple times daily, to see how she’s feeling, what she needs, and if anyone is there helping her.  Fasts. prays. creates loving posts.

Sister 1- Is over at her house since day one- making DELICIOUS meals (as always) and waiting on her hand and foot.  Calling when she’s not there to see if she needs her to wait on her some more.  Almost ditches seriously needed vacay time to attend to her.

Me- Buys a card.  Two cards, because I don’t know her well enough to know which one she’d like.  Asks husband to get her address so we can send it.  Forgets to send it.

I’m glad they haven’t given up on me yet. (and trust me, that’s JUST the beginning)

(Also…turns out that leading studies show marrying UP doesn’t mean my own family doesn’t have these great qualities, it just means I don’t.  For some reason, these talents/abilities/innate qualities skipped me. or maybe I skipped them.)

HERE’S TO ANOTHER YEAR!

(don’t know how long that picture of Adam will be up there, folks. its creeping me out.  I think Britney Spears had a similar spread some years ago.)

VOTE!

the mr. and I won a free sitting with Matt Clayton, so we thought we'd have fun with it. rural 40's. what do you think? We're dying to see more, so click on his link and vote for which pictures you want to see next.

Matt has the best impression of David Archuletta EVER. He shot him a while back and has him NAILED. We loved it.

No pictures for a while.

True or false

My husband is a dream.

I feel like I should wait even longer to post something, just so everyone can see how great he is. And if you've read the previous post, you would all know how great I am. But that's not the reason its took me so long to say goodbye to it.

Lake Powell is a family tradition. We have lots of those (traditions). Especially in the summertime.

My family might be THE most fun people in the universe all rolled into one genetic pool.

My family (meaning my brother and dad and Lindsey) are also known for making things bigger and better than the year before. Mostly ideas. Like slides.

And regardless of my verbal safety precautions, we usually end up with things like this:

Last year it was a slide with slightly less thick plastic (resulting in semi-permanent back-scarring), and a pool hose connected to a jet ski for water supply. THIS year? 600 feet of ultra thick plastic (compliments of Z) and a LEGIT water pump, compliments of Ky. Only a few bleeding backs this time around.

For our anniversary, I wrote another song for Cole (once a year's worth of complete song-writing humiliation is worth it....right?) I played it for him atop our houseboat, complete with twinkling lights, a slow dance serenaded by Michael Buble, and my family navy SEAL-ing it to the top from all corners of the houseboat from the bottom deck to start the dance party of a lifetime (starring Lili Lundeen). What. a. dream.