If you don't know me by now...

Blech.  I hate that song. And, blech, I just realized that I can actually summarize my life in song lyrics.  Isn't that pathetic?
So, since you're here, you probably want to know about me.  I've realized that I've poured out my heart and soul on this blog...and never actually introduced myself.
Hi.

I'm Katie.
I am a 32 year old superhero.  (mostly in my own mind.)
I am married to another superhero named Tim.  He's the best part of my life.  No kidding.
We have no children, because, let's be honest.... it's none of your business and what with us being superheroes and all, it would be completely unfair to the rest of the world.
I do, however, play mother to two furry babies with tails, Jack the Cat and LilyBelle the Cat.
I work my dream job everyday at a local music store in the wholesale division as an account executive.
My husband works with foster kids.  All day.  Every day.
We are an LDS Power Couple.  My husband was called to be the Young Men's President in our ward at the same time that I was called to be the Primary President.
(I seriously almost swore in the bishop's office...for real)
I have dedicated the last couple of years of my life to those primary kids.  I have adopted every single one of them and love them more than I ever thought I could.
I love my family.  I am the oldest of four kids...and the only girl.  And the shortest.  And the most round.  Or roundest, whatever. And also, the prettiest.
I am the crazy, eccentric aunt that everyone warns their kids about.
My favorite hobby is spoiling the people I love.
My favorite colors are neon colors...mostly because they're so obnoxious.
My favorite foods are ones that I can eat.
My favorite chore is dreaming about how I can make one of my cats do the dishes.
My favorite movies are mostly black and white...or have Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Julie Andrews or any combination of the actors listed.
I have a severe music addiction.  I currently have over a thousand songs on my MP3 player.  And I keep buying more.  Are there groups for that?
I love the idea of being domestic, until I actually have to do it.  Ha.
I don't like long walks on the beach...or anywhere for that matter.
I like to shoot guns, drive my truck in the mud and explore places that aren't on maps.
I love animals...  I like to shoot them.  With my camera.
I leave the real animal shooting to my super hunter husband.
I love to play card games, because most of the time you only need two people...and I don't make friends easily.
I love to play instruments.  Any kind.  Currently, the guitar.
I wish I could twinkle my nose like Samantha in Bewitched and change things...or just clean my bathroom without actually stepping foot inside of it.
I think mustaches are hilarious.
I love action movies.  The good, dangerous, kind with fast American Muscle cars and lots of , well, action.
I am a HUGE sports fan.  I love the Denver Broncos and Peyton Manning almost as much as I love my husband...and breathing.  I love my Oregon Ducks.  I love my New York Yankees and my Miami Heat.  Except hockey. And soccer.  And golf.  BOOOOOOORING.
My all time favorite song is, of course, I Am A Child of God.
And, now I'm sleepy.
So, feel free to tell me about you too in the comments...mostly because I'm bored...and nosy.

It's Better To Look Up...

I don't know who this post is for.  Maybe it's just for me.

Today, a mother in our ward passed away leaving behind four children and no father.

I have a couple of friends who are fighting some hard battles right now.

All around me, I see hurt.  And pain. And fear. And turmoil. And tears.

And the worst part?

I can't fix it.

I am a fixer.

Whatever it is.  I fix it.

I bake it, I hug it, I love it, I gift it, I visit it, I bring it dinner, I babysit it, I clean it, I give it rides...

I do everything in MY POWER to fix it and make it better.

I can't fix this.

I can't undo it.

I can't even make it remotely more pleasant and easy.

I have cried all day.

I've been angry all day.

Angry at how unfair the world is.

Angry that good people are suffering and crying for help.

Angry that bad things happen to good people.

Angry that choices of others are affecting these people.

Crying for four children who are without a family.

Crying for their loss, for their fear, for their instability.

I've found myself racking my brain to the point that I have a headache trying to fix it.

Trying to fix their loss, trying to fix the trials and struggles of my friends.

And I can't.

I.

Feel.

Powerless.

Everyday, I see a struggling world, trying to make it through another day, trying to put on a cheerful face, trying to just try. 

I find myself looking around, looking side to side, looking down...and seeing the same stupid things.

Sadness, hurt, loneliness, pain, frustration, hopelessness, and so much more.

I recalled a quote by President Thomas S. Monson that hit the spot today.

"Remember, it is better to look up."

And it hit me.  

I'm looking the wrong way.

I can't fix it, but I know Someone who can.

Our Heavenly Father CAN fix it.  Sometimes, He chooses not to.

Sometimes, He lets the storm rage...but He will always comfort His child if we just ask.

I am grateful for my Father in Heaven and for His wisdom and His grace and His love.

So, to end...I'll leave you with this.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles...Or Pounds

Greetings!

For those of you that don't really know me, let's just get this out of the way.

I'm a chubby girl.

My body and I have a love/hate relationship.

I've never been skinny.

Fit, maybe.

Skinny, no.

I never will be.

I accept that.

However-I want to be HEALTHY.

So, my husband and I decided to join a weight loss challenge. I thought this was great.  I'd done it before and I knew that with him on my side, I would ultimately succeed.

So, now we're three weeks in.

I am working my tail off.  Literally.

I am counting every calorie that I put in my mouth. Including chewing gum.

I work out until I am sore.

I haven't had a soda for TWO DAYS. (that's a long freaking time.)

I've lost 6 pounds.

He's lost 25.

Argh.

Let's just say that I'm flustered.  Incredibly flustered.

I almost didn't work out this morning because I was lying in bed thinking...what's the point? It's not like it does a lot of good.  So, I laid there, scratching Lily-my cat-and letting my mind wander, which I've found is never safe.

And I recalled something that happened quite some time ago.

A little insight...

I might seem like a tough girl, a Regina George type, to some.  But, even us Reginas get our feelings hurt when someone is unkind to us. We don't always show it, but we remember it and we beat ourselves up for it for the rest of our lives because we feel like we've let someone down. And most times...that someone is the girl looking right back at us in the mirror.

I won't elaborate because it's not necessary.  I just remember feeling so, so worthless and wanting to just sit down and flip off the world and quit.  In fact, I remember getting in the shower later that night and bawling my eyes out-(in the shower so that no one could see or hear me.)

I simply wasn't good enough or fit enough.  I let myself down.  I let myself believe that I was nothing. I fell right into the trap.

So, when someone asked me today why I wanted to lose weight-I tried to be sweet and coy and even funny with my response when in all reality, the thought running through my mind was "because that will never, ever happen to me again. I will not let it."

I will never, never let that happen again.  I will never allow myself to be treated like that or to feel like I'm not good enough.  Ever.

So, I pulled my chubby buns out of bed and decided to kick box my way into Thursday.

Why?

Because I'm not worthless.  Because I'm not a straggler.  Because I'm not a follower.  

Because I AM worth it.  Because I AM a leader. Because I DESERVE better.

So, 6 pounds is a success. That's 6 pounds less that I have to carry on my shoulders...or more accurately, my backside. :) 

It's 6 pounds of self doubt, fear, guilt, failure and worthlessness.  

And maybe 1 Snickers bar that I ate when I was sad.

Goodbye 6 pounds.

Fare thee well.

Don't ever come back.

I honestly never want to see you again.

Also, to the people involved in this experience, thank you.  

I appreciate your example.

Thank you for inspiring me to be better and healthier and more kind than you ever were to me.

Now, off to bed so that I can kick box the trash out of another 6 pounds again tomorrow.

Here. We. Go.