Hello, My Name is Kara
Since many of you may not know me very well, I thought a little introduction of myself was in order. I have to admit, this is another daunting step for me. I have a tendency to clam up around people whose opinions I'm not very sure of. I suppose my logic is best summed up by the saying "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt." I'd rather be thought shy or foolish than open my mouth and let people hate me for who I really am (or find out just how foolish I am).
One of my goals in starting this blog (aside from improving my writing) is to overcome my fear of putting myself out there. I need to freely be myself and let people judge me, whether they're willing to be fair and open-minded or not. I'm currently taking baby steps, but I plan to get to the point where I refuse to let my fear of what others think dictate whether I can be myself.
So who am I?
I am Kara. My reflex is to give my height next, as it has always been one of my defining features. Though I don't know that I should always consider it a core part of who I am, it has certainly shaped me in several ways. I am 6'3". I hate the struggle it is to find pants long enough, don't love my back problems, and being taller than the vast majority of boys in high school was a little rough, but I have always loved being tall. My height has led me to basketball, my wonderful husband Stephen (who is 6'6"), a sense of pride in being different, and a desire to love and befriend other people who feel different or awkward.
I am a wife, going on 5 years of marriage, a mother of an adorable 14-month-old little boy and a baby girl on the way, and I am an introvert.
Introvert? What does that even mean? For me, it means that while I do enjoy interacting with other people, it tends to wear me out. Even after spending time with the few people who don't wear me out, I find myself happy to be alone when the time comes. I was actually surprised to come to the realization a few months ago that I could label myself an "introvert", but it has been helpful for me to realize that I'm not a mean person for often wishing I could just be alone when I'm around other people. It's not that I don't love people or spending time with them. It's more that I need to have that interaction in small doses, and then have time to "recharge." I do best when I have at least some time all by myself every day. Super easy when you have kids, right? I go a little crazy on days when I don't get enough time to myself.
With that said, I am also working on being patient. As in, "work in progress." As in, some days the mood in our house looks like a crazy construction zone, and I'm the bulldozer. I'm sure everyone feels that way at times. I'm sure every mom feels bad when she yells at her kids for throwing their food on the floor for the tenth time that meal, or when she swears (under her breath...and maybe sometimes out loud) because that dang sippy cup just won't quit leaking milk everywhere, or when she just doesn't want to be a mom today (run-on-sentence for the win!). Being patient is hard, but I see myself making progress, and that is so encouraging to me. A friend of mine has recently started a campaign, called Through a Child's Ears about speaking more positively to the children in our lives. I love this. It has inspired me to be more thoughtful in how I talk to my son. Go take the pledge today!
One thing I've been doing a lot of lately is evaluating and reevaluating myself and my opinions. It can be painful to let go of things that you've firmly held onto for so long, once you realize they're no longer (or never were) helping you. It can be hard to admit to yourself and to others that you were wrong about something. Especially when you've made a lot of decisions based on those beliefs. There are a lot of things I've decided I was doing wrong: judging others to elevate myself, certain parts of my parenting (I know, I know, that's pretty much a life-long struggle), the way I handle conflict, etc. But the incredible thing about admitting you were wrong? Being able to move forward. To change. To do better. Painful as it may be, change is beautiful. And I am so glad I have been willing to let myself do it.
One more thing: I'm a Mormon. Feel free to ask me what that means and what I believe. Or you can always check out Mormon.org. I am constantly asking myself what I really believe, and sometimes I have more than a few doubts. But I don't doubt that God lives, that He is our father, and that He does love us. Especially now that I have a child of my own, I understand what children mean to their parents. I may not have the answers to everything, but I firmly believe that understanding that God is my father, that He actually loves me and all of His children, gives me a pretty good foundation. I am grateful for the clarity and peace that knowledge like that gives me.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a little bit about me. If you feel so inclined, I'd love to hear a little about you in the comments!
One of my goals in starting this blog (aside from improving my writing) is to overcome my fear of putting myself out there. I need to freely be myself and let people judge me, whether they're willing to be fair and open-minded or not. I'm currently taking baby steps, but I plan to get to the point where I refuse to let my fear of what others think dictate whether I can be myself.
So who am I?
I am Kara. My reflex is to give my height next, as it has always been one of my defining features. Though I don't know that I should always consider it a core part of who I am, it has certainly shaped me in several ways. I am 6'3". I hate the struggle it is to find pants long enough, don't love my back problems, and being taller than the vast majority of boys in high school was a little rough, but I have always loved being tall. My height has led me to basketball, my wonderful husband Stephen (who is 6'6"), a sense of pride in being different, and a desire to love and befriend other people who feel different or awkward.
I am a wife, going on 5 years of marriage, a mother of an adorable 14-month-old little boy and a baby girl on the way, and I am an introvert.
Introvert? What does that even mean? For me, it means that while I do enjoy interacting with other people, it tends to wear me out. Even after spending time with the few people who don't wear me out, I find myself happy to be alone when the time comes. I was actually surprised to come to the realization a few months ago that I could label myself an "introvert", but it has been helpful for me to realize that I'm not a mean person for often wishing I could just be alone when I'm around other people. It's not that I don't love people or spending time with them. It's more that I need to have that interaction in small doses, and then have time to "recharge." I do best when I have at least some time all by myself every day. Super easy when you have kids, right? I go a little crazy on days when I don't get enough time to myself.
With that said, I am also working on being patient. As in, "work in progress." As in, some days the mood in our house looks like a crazy construction zone, and I'm the bulldozer. I'm sure everyone feels that way at times. I'm sure every mom feels bad when she yells at her kids for throwing their food on the floor for the tenth time that meal, or when she swears (under her breath...and maybe sometimes out loud) because that dang sippy cup just won't quit leaking milk everywhere, or when she just doesn't want to be a mom today (run-on-sentence for the win!). Being patient is hard, but I see myself making progress, and that is so encouraging to me. A friend of mine has recently started a campaign, called Through a Child's Ears about speaking more positively to the children in our lives. I love this. It has inspired me to be more thoughtful in how I talk to my son. Go take the pledge today!
One thing I've been doing a lot of lately is evaluating and reevaluating myself and my opinions. It can be painful to let go of things that you've firmly held onto for so long, once you realize they're no longer (or never were) helping you. It can be hard to admit to yourself and to others that you were wrong about something. Especially when you've made a lot of decisions based on those beliefs. There are a lot of things I've decided I was doing wrong: judging others to elevate myself, certain parts of my parenting (I know, I know, that's pretty much a life-long struggle), the way I handle conflict, etc. But the incredible thing about admitting you were wrong? Being able to move forward. To change. To do better. Painful as it may be, change is beautiful. And I am so glad I have been willing to let myself do it.
One more thing: I'm a Mormon. Feel free to ask me what that means and what I believe. Or you can always check out Mormon.org. I am constantly asking myself what I really believe, and sometimes I have more than a few doubts. But I don't doubt that God lives, that He is our father, and that He does love us. Especially now that I have a child of my own, I understand what children mean to their parents. I may not have the answers to everything, but I firmly believe that understanding that God is my father, that He actually loves me and all of His children, gives me a pretty good foundation. I am grateful for the clarity and peace that knowledge like that gives me.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a little bit about me. If you feel so inclined, I'd love to hear a little about you in the comments!
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