MERRY CHRISTMAS LOVE THE JOLLEY'S! 

We love this tradition {even though there is so much pressure}! There is a purpose behind our Christmas cards... life is hard. Our family has celebrated joyful moments; moments that make hearts skip a beat, moments where jaws are sore from laughing so hard it hurts. Along with those highs we have endured painful moments; moments that make hearts stop out of fear, moments where eyes are swollen from sleepless nights filled with tears. Life is hard. One of the purposes behind our cards are to bring a smile to the faces of those we love or maybe even to bring laughter into your homes {if only for a brief moment}. We {I} have such a fun time creating these cards and my family is amazing for supporting my crazy!!! We love you all and hope that, no matter where you are in life, you have a very Merry Christmas!

Thanksgiving Woes

I have many problems with Thanksgiving.

I hear you out there, judging me, saying "how could anyone have an issue with a holiday that focuses on giving thanks?"  Let me count the ways {you are welcome}!

#1.  The FOOD   - I mean whatthedamnhell is with all the food?  One thing I have never heard after a Thanksgiving feast is "ahhhhhhhhhh, that was the perfect amount of food, I feel so great".  It's somewhere closer to "uuuuugggghhh, I ate so much {unbuttoning pants} I am so full I'm gonna die {taking another bite of the warm roll} no seriously, I am going to die!"

#2.  The women in the kitchen... {all day long} 
Don't even pretend that you don't know what I am talking about! {I don't consider myself a feminist but}
IT IS SO MUCH WORK for the WOMEN... 

Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself, let me start over from the beginning...

1. Arguing over Lovingly deciding where we are spending Thanksgiving.  Who is hosting?  How many people will be there?  "Didn't we eat with YOUR family LAST Thanksgiving?  Wait... how many people are going to be there?  
2. Then the wretched list!  Everyone gets an assignment.  Who is bringing what?  Appetizers, main-course, sides, desserts, drinks, paper cups, paper plates, napkins, etc... {we can't use China when there are 64 people eating - not to mention the 9 newborns}
3. GROCERY SHOPPING - don't do it, do NOT go to Costco the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  Don't do it {I do it EVERY year}.
4. Preparing the food {sometimes this begins a week before the actual feast}.
5. Finally, the BIG day has arrived.  I set my alarm because I was assigned the 10 layer jello and I desperately need to get that next layer on so that I am ready by 2:30.  After I successfully get the layer added I move on to my next food assignment.  About an hour into my morning I hear the misters alarm go off.  "Oh, that's nice, he set his alarm so he can help me"... {NOT!}  I hear him shout to the boys, "Happy Thanksgiving boys!  Wake up, it's time to go play FOOTBALL!" Hubs makes his way to the kitchen, cleats on, scratching himself {and sticking his finger in whatever it is I'm making} as he mumbles something like "it smells so good babe" And as I'm cooking or baking {or whatever the hell it is I'm doing} a series of whatthedamnhell's go through my head while I visualize running away with the dreamy Brazilian helicopter pilot on "Inside Out!" 

   

   "Come fly with me TC"

6. Keeping the food warm - this is a thing, and it isn't always an easy thing. 
7. Getting the family to look GREAT - there is something about Thanksgiving, everyone dresses up... but not up-up, just a little up {like medium up}.  The boys get home from football later than they promised {of course}, the tenth layer of jello has been added {yippee}, and now it is time to get the family ready!  I dig through the closets {mainly the floor of the closets where most of the clothes are - unless they are in the dirty hamper, so I check there next}.  I find some "medium up" clothes for all my family members.  I spend 16 minutes arguing with the 12 year old trying to convince him to take a shower because he stinks from playing football all morning {damnhell}, I yell at the 11 year old because he is not just smelling the yams but he nose is actually TOUCHING the yams, and I put the 8 year old in timeout for {once again} getting into my make-up.  One look at the hubs and he knows he better not mess! 
8. Getting myself presentable: I need to make it look like the day {thus far} has been handled effortlessly {so pretty much the exact opposite of the truth}.  I need to make it look like I don't want to kill the mister for coming home late from football and forgetting accidentally leaving one of the kids at the park.  I need to make it seem like the 12 year old really did take a shower even though he decided dousing himself with Old Spice cologne was a better idea.  I need to pretend that there are NO finger {or nose} germs in any of the food that I prepared.  And most importantly, I need to convince everyone that I LOVE Thanksgiving and that I'm the happiest most grateful {because of Thanksgiving obviously} wife and mother IN.THE.WORLD! 
9. Getting the family to look GREAT AGAIN - {because everything got dirty and fell apart while I was in the shower - damnhell}
10. Load the car - GET IN IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU! 
11. Arrive {and everything else because this post is making me crazy and giving me anxiety!!!} - Arrive.  Smile.  Answer, "oh it was nothing" when people comment on my jello masterpiece.  Find a seat.  Find a seat for the kids.  Find another seat because mine was taken when I got up to find the kids a seat.  Pray.  {act like I am grateful that they called on me to give the prayer when I am actually a little afraid a lightning bolt may strike me and my hidden anger if I talk to God - plus I've said damnhell so many times today}.  Get the kids food {carrying all 3 plates at the same time while apologizing for holding up the line} while realizing that all the man-folk are screaming at television because Cowboys {barf} are beating the Panthers at the half.  Eat.  Eat faster because the kids want more food and they are fighting {and someone -not my kids- threw potatoes across the table}.  Yell at  Ask the husband nicely to help get the kids get more food.  And just as soon as it started, it's over... and everyone is uncomfortably full.  I am going to save you {you are welcome} from the pain of this post and skip over...
12. 13.  14.  15.  16.  17...... eat dessert {unbutton pants}.  {attempt to} get a large family picture, settle for a small family picture {with the random neighbor kid in it}. Dishes. Clean up. Hugs. Kisses. Smile. Load the kids in the car. Unload the 8 year old who just realized she has to pee. Take 8 year old pee. Re-do Hugs. Re-do kisses. Smile. Re-load the 8 year old. Half way home realize I forgot my cookie sheet {To hell with the cookie sheet}. 
13. GET TO BED IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU!
14. And FINALLY, experiencing the true meaning of Thanksgiving as my soul is filled with  thanks and gratitude because it is ALL OVER!!!!  

Expressed in a Dance

I have never seen an episode of "Dancing with the Stars" - I'm not familiar with the show and I'm not very familiar with dance... in general.

After watching this video today, I realize that dance {like music} speaks in a universal language.

This spoke to me today.

This is so accurate.
This is too familiar.
This is intensely beautiful.

It was easy for me to relate to the storyline {Alexa having an eating disorder} but it seems as though everyone, in some way, can see this in their lives.

Eating disorders {get vulnerable} My eating disorder emerges its ugly head in my life
EVERY
SINGLE
DAY

I hate it.  I hate it so much.  I hate everything about it.  I want to wrap my hands around its neck and strangle the life out of it.

I remember a time when it had its hands wrapped around my neck and almost strangled the life out of me.

I wish I could permanently get rid of it but it doesn't work like that.  Something like an eating disorder and/or an addiction never just "goes away".  But there are things to do to get to a place in life where the fight is easier.

Choosing recovery is the first step.  But choosing once didn't make it go away.  I have to choose recovery
EVERY
SINGLE
DAY

Sometimes it's easy, lately it has been hard.  And it makes me so mad and so sad and so scared.

I believe in miracles, I believe if God wanted my eating disorder to just disappear it would. But what my experience has shown me is that although God can remove my pain, my heartache, my eating disorder, He see's the biggest picture.  Most of the time that big picture consists of me us having to suffer with Him by our side.

I don't know about you but my greatest growth has {unfortunately} come from my pain.  It has stretched me as a person.  I have seen how strong I am and how weak I can be.  It pushes me.  Even when I don't think I have the energy to be pushed.

I will never be grateful for my trials {I hate when people say they are} but I am very grateful for what I have learned and who I have become through my trials.

With that said... I wish my eating disorder would just  GO AWAY!
But it won't.  Like Alexa, I will have to free myself.

EVERY

SINGLE

DAY!

{I see you up there seeing me!}

Dentist Visits

My kids love their dentist 99.9% of the time because 99.9% of the time they don't have cavities! Bella has had 1 tiny cavity and the boys... ZERO!

Today Bella has to get a procedure done on her gums. The dentist is taking a razor to them. Not awesome.

The good news is Bella gets laughing gas and a front row seat with her Pony's in her hut to "Inside Out"!

Anxiety

I am an anxious person.  I come from an anxious family.  I have anxious genes.

I recognize when my family and friends suffer from my anxiety because I get short with them.

There have been times in my life when I have had a more intense struggle with my anxiety (for example):

• When I was fully engaged in my eating disorder
• When I found out my husband was an addict 
• When I saw that plane crash into a crowd of people
• When I think about the time I will meet Elder Holland

When my anxiety flares I go see my shrink.  I breath and meditate and I do yoga.  And then, I just keep going.  I go along with life feeling a little on edge but assuming that everyone probably feels a little on edge, that's life right?

Well these last couple of months I have been dysfunctionally anxious... but in the last 3 weeks it's been too hard.

So I did the hard thing.  I walked into my doctors office and started crying.

Right there.
In front of her.
She asked me how I was doing and I just started crying.

This is the first time that has happened at my doctors office.  I told her about my life.  I told her how hard it was for me to relax, take breaks.  And after we talked she decided it was time to put me on some medication.

So, for the first time ever (excluding the one time I got a prescription but only tried the pills for a week because I freaked out) I am taking pills to help my anxiety.

If I'm not careful I start letting myself feel like a loser.  I'll let a voice in my head tell me how weak I am for needing medication.  If I'm not careful I shame myself for not being a better person.

But I'm careful.

(This is an example of how I respond when there is a knock at my door and I'm not expecting anyone)

***damn hell anxiety***

A Piece of Peace

For the record, I actually do know the difference between peace and piece! I'm just deep like that!

Angels in Trees

Here He Stands

Monday morning started bright and early for Dad and Jon.  They were up by 5:00am and off to pick up all the equipment that they needed to take down are 3 large sissoo trees.  They had a deadline, my mom and dad were scheduled to fly home from Arizona on the last available flight back to Utah that day, and so they had to be done by the early evening. 

Getting Started

It was 8:30am when I first heard the roar of my dad’s chainsaw. 

It was 9:00am when I peeled out of the driveway rushing my dad to the emergency room.

Somewhere in those 30 minutes my entire world stood still. 

Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized how vulnerable we all are.

Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized my helplessness.

Isn’t it confusing how time can do that?

I was out in the yard with Jon and Dad; they were discussing “tree cutting down strategy” as Jon climbed up the ladder to take the chainsaw from my dad so that my dad could relocate.  I was vaguely listening to them but I remember thinking how macho they sounded and then I visualized “Tim the Tool Man Taylor” doing his barking-growl manly noise.  At one point I heard Jon tell my dad, “so just move the ladder over a little bit” at which my dad responded “okay”... but he never did. 

That was it… Jon walked into the garage to get something.  I was picking up branches in the yard.  My mom took Bella in the house to get her shoes on so that they could go on a bike ride together.  Everything was in order.

But out of the corner of my eye I noticed something.  I noticed the tree jolt.  It jolted suddenly and violently and it caught my attention.  I looked over to see what was happening.  

Then, I watched in horror as my dad fell. 

How long does it take to fall 20 feet?  

He fell directly, he didn’t hit any branches, it was as free as a "free-fall" can get.  

How long does it take? 

If you ask me, it takes forever. 

Perspective of the Fall 

My experience is uniquely mine and this is what I experienced. 

My dad

My rock solid person

My stronger than anyone hero

My trusted friend

My inappropriate sense of humor buddy

My “I will always be here for you” ally

My protector

My dad unable to protect himself or stop time or keep himself safe.

My dad at the mercy of gravity.  I watched and witnessed something I have never experienced before... 

My dad was completely and utterly 

 HELPLESS

I watched as frame by frame he fell.  I remember how he fell.  He wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t flailing his arms or legs, he was simply and silently falling.

And then I watched and listened as gravity pulled him down and he collided with the cement. 

The silence was deafening.  I wanted to hear noise.  I wanted to hear him scream out in pain or wince or swear.  It’s like having a baby, the baby needs to cry out, that is how we know that the baby is breathing.  I needed my dad to cry out but the only noise that existed was my voice. 

My body was moving in slow motion towards my dad but my voice seemed to be on fast forward.  I was yelling SCREAMING  “my dad just fell out of the tree, call 911” over and over again.  I wanted to be as clear as I could so that someone would hear me and immediately call 911! 

Jon heard me.  I’m not sure what all happened in that moment or two but I remember debating whether or not to run towards my dad.  I was afraid of what I may see and after my experience in 2011 at the Reno Air Races, I was very careful and very deliberate in my decision to move towards my dad.   

When I got to him he was moving. 

RELIEF

I was in full-blown “WE NEED TO HELP HIM NOW” mode.

Some people (my mom) refer to this as panic mode but I call it super vigilant chaotic "we need to help him now" mode.  

Potayyyto/Potahhhto 

I kept screaming for Jon to call 911 and then I would go over to my dad and ask him where he was hurt.  My dad couldn’t talk, he could barely breath and what was his breathing sounded like shallow short breaths.  I didn’t have the patience to wait for him to answer me and tell me what was going on with him. 

By this time my mom had heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on.  My mom is a lot less panicky  a lot less loud  a lot less crazy My mom is a lot calmer than I am in situations like this.  She was gentle with my dad, she listened to him and talked him through where his pain was.  She didn’t see the fall so she was patiently asking him questions and waiting for his answers. 

Jon was on the phone with the 911 operator who had dispatched the ambulance and I continued pacing around my dad, careful not to get too close to him.  

I was afraid to touch him.

I was afraid to move him.

I was afraid that he was trying to move. 

I yelled at him to “STOP MOVING” and my mom, the calm person she is, stood up and put her hands softly on my shoulders and looked at me.  In a very validating and loving tone she said, “Tice, it’s okay, calm down”.  In a not so very validating and not so loving tone I replied “DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” 

(Side note) I’m never going to live that down.  My dad says he remembers the whole thing.  Me screaming like a lunatic, me asking him questions and not waiting around long enough to get the answers, me yelling at my mom… the funny thing is, he knows me, and he knows that I must love him very much to let myself go crazy like that. 

Against my advice my dad stood up.  I was so mad.  But as soon as he stood up I ran to my van and pulled up to where he was standing.  I demanded that he get in immediately.  Jon still had the 911 dispatcher on the phone (this really did happen within minutes) and I told Jon to cancel the ambulance, that I was driving my dad to the hospital myself. 

As a matter of fact, everyone listened to me!

When we got to the ER I dropped my mom and dad off.  My dad seemed to be in shock.  He could talk (in an airy sort of voice) and he could tell his arm was broken.  As the day progressed he got test after test done.  They eventually put him in an ambulance and transferred him to a hospital in Phoenix because it had a trauma unit (apparently falling from anything higher than 15 feet requires some sort of trauma treatment) where they admitted him.  He stayed there for a couple of nights.  He was pretty banged up with cuts and bruises but he was treated for 3 broken ribs and a shattered wrist, which resulted in surgery.  

The Events Documented 

Then he was discharged.

Then we got him back to Utah.

It’s been 11 days since this all happened and I’ve been waiting for it to hit me, to catch up to me.  

I’m familiar with trauma and how it works for me and so I’ve been expecting it.  

Today it hit me. 

As I returned home from dropping Bella off at a swim party and pulled into the driveway I looked up at the tree.  I looked down at the cement.  And I felt the pull of my heart.

Here it comes.

Embrace it.

Lean into it. 

Move through it. 

I parked the car and got out.  I went and lay under that huge tree.  I lay in the exact place my dad fell and I started crying.  I closed my eyes and said a prayer of gratitude.  I lay there for 30 minutes feeling all the emotion that was affiliated with my experience.

Somewhere in those 30 minutes my entire world stood still. 

Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized how vulnerable we all are.

Somewhere in those 30 minutes I realized my helplessness.

My crying turned to sobbing, which turned to gratitude, which turned to peace. 

Embrace it.

Lean into it.

Move through it. 

I found peace in remembering the words that the emergency room doctor said to my dad over and over again. 

“You were watched over by angels today”

Laying Under the Tree on the Place Dad Landed

Laying under that tree today was healing.  I’m not sure why my dad had to fall.  I’m not sure why I had to witness it.  I’m not always sure why some things are necessary and what it is that I am suppose to learn from them but I do know this… angels accompany us and God loves us and I love my family.  

 

*Thank you for all your prayers and your thoughts and for reaching out to my parents and our family.  We were overwhelmed (especially my dad) with all the outpouring of love and concern* 

THANK YOU!

#damnhell