Why Isn’t ___ More of A Priority?!

Good Morning and Welcome!

            Today's inspiration came from the awesome and amazing Hannah Cremona, who posted this prompt: (find her group here)

My Response:

            "Honestly, I've been afraid of putting in the effort... my doctor recently told me that its clear that I'm trying... and also that I'm not giving it my best. It came from a place of love and encouragement, she genuinely want to know why nutrition wasn't a priority, when clearly, its very effective in managing my disease. It didn't take me long to reply... "I'm lazy". Changing my eating habits is HARD, or at least so I tell myself... and I believe with my whole heart that it would work... and also understand that my brain is LYING when it tells me that I can't. My heart wants to whine "its not faaaair" and as I reach for the processed convenience snack that I know my bowel will soon protest... I think to myself. You CAN resist. Life's not fair. Don't do it. After that... its a roll of the die whether I will succeed or fail, and give myself grace to try try again."

Yes, I did stage this to hide
the cluttered countertop and table 😁

 

            Oh my gosh the look on Dr. V's face when I mentioned resorting to Pop-Tarts! It was as if I'd said poison! And plain cheerios, that was my crazy health-nut-mom easy option... I had no idea that cereal was a no-no too! Her response... cheerios don't come off the tree like that. 😬 touche Dr. V.  (Find her info here)

            That's a truth that can't be denied. But it's not all about food. Those words of why isn't this more of a priority for you... they hit me in the feels. That applies to every. single. area. where we doubt ourselves. Don't believe me? Here's a non-food example.

Don't judge the crumbs, 
They're fresh 😇

            When my daughter struggles to clip her own carseat buckle, even though I've seen her do it before, I remember all the times that she's given up and begged for help, just 2 seconds before success. My momming strategy is to help her have the confidence and faith in herself to use that extra oomph (sound effects help y'all, seriously). So when she whines for help, I ask her to "Grab the whines. Take em out of your throat! Smash em into a ball, and throw em far away!" When I ask her where are we throwing them this time, her answers are so precious. Often its been a gleeful, ALABAMA! And a few times its been a confident, "into space!" Either way, we make a big show of sending away the whining so that we are ready to believe in ourselves. I talk her through problem solving the "I can't". Maybe move your hands? Maybe make sure its aligned in the right spot? Maybe keep going, try your very best and right when you want to give up, try just a tiny bit more..... and often, success! She is capable. She is strong. She can do so much, with a little bit of scaffolding (shout out to Vygotsky's theory of Child Development woot woot). Our kids don't need us to swoop in and take over... sometimes they just need a little support... and lightbulb moment... sometimes, so do we. 

            #Adulting isn't easy. And that's okay. We are capable. We are strong. We are NOT alone. And we've got this. For me, prayer is comforting, so if it's alright with y'all/you guys, I'm going to close with a prayer/praise. 

Abba Father, thank you for putting these words in my heart and head, and for giving me the platform and the time to share. Baruch ata adonai... blessed are you Lord, who has given us the gifts of technology and transportation, of family and faith, of strength and support. If it be thy will, we ask you to be our scaffold as we build up from your foundation. We ask you to comfort us when we look down in fear. We ask you to show us the way up, not the whole way, but enough to have the courage to take the next step. Inspired action comes from you, or strength comes from you, our souls come from you, and we are so so grateful for your abundant love, even as we turn from you in grief or frustration. Thank you for this new day, and this new opportunity to be our best. In your holy name, amen. 

            If you've made it this far, dear reader, your heart is open to receiving a blessing, and I claim it for you now. You've got this. You are capable. And if you want a little support, let me know. Truly, no judgment, I mean it when I say, I'd love to hear from you in the comments, or in a private message. Find me on Instagram.com/galigaligumdrop, in the pages of the books "Sadness and Us" and "Fear and Us", or on Facebook in "Gali's Great Group". 

You are not alone. You are loved. You are capable. I will say it over and over until you believe it for yourself, and I believe it deep down in the place of doubt.

Xoxo

Mama Gali

Why I Take Steps

        It seems like someone is always fundraising for something, and it can feel impossible to balance a budget during girl scout cookie season. So for those who feel like they can't give $, I understand. Here's a little piece of my story, a mini behind-the-scenes look at why this cause matters to me, and why now.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW 
WHY I TAKE STEPS?

        Imagine being 14 years old, swearing up and down that you're NOT anorexic, and that you're not eating because your stomach hurts. You keep going to school because honestly, the distraction helps, but your blood boils every time someone notices your size 8 turned size 00 figure and comments "you like great!". My mom raised me with good manners so I put on that fake smile, said something like "aww thanks" and vented to my friends later. Imagine being 14 years old, and being scheduled for a colonoscopy. Thank God that my tribe was mostly future doctors, and they were fascinated more than grossed out by the "butt camera" details. Fast forward 10 years and hundreds of blood draws later, and imagine the next chapter of the battle. Imagine you have a husband and a job, and after years of being relatively okay, the pain is back with a vengeance. Your doctor suggests surgery. For years, you've been so careful, knowing that getting pregnant during a flare could be disastrous, and your doctor tells you not to let your disease control your life. But what if... and what if... the fears are too scary to even speak them.

        Now fast forward one more time, another 7 years to the current day. You're living the American dream. Married, employed, with 2.5 kids and a house with a yard. Your disease is under control (at least according to the tests), but you still have accidents more often than your children. You look at these adorable amazing miniature versions of yourself, and remember that your disease has a genetic component.

        Sure, I'd love a cure for Crohn's Disease. I'd love to not need IV medication every 8 weeks, to not need to think about horrible prep drink for at least 20 years, instead of 3. But that stuff doesn't bother me anymore. Like so many other hardships in life, I've adjusted, and barely notice that it's not normal. I take steps and I am 100% committed to this cause, not for myself, but for the millions of younger patients. For the ones who got diagnosed at age 7, and never got to have a normal childhood. For the ones who's surgery didn't help, who's medication doesn't help, and who feel like they won't ever be able to date, or work, or go on vacation like a normal person. I #TakeSteps to stop the stigma, to raise funds, and to do what I can to save others from the pain that I've experienced.

        I've lived with Crohn's Disease since sophomore year of high school, and have had more than my fair share of pokes and prods. Yes, it's true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and my diagnoses helped shape me into who I am today... but that doesn't mean I'd wish it on my worst enemy. So if you can spare the cost of a few fast food meals, consider donating them to CCFA, your guts will be glad that you did, and many others will be forever grateful.

xoxo

MamaGali