Divorced Moms column: 5 Tips to Managing Your Single Girls' Budget

My Divorced Moms column is out! This one is all about the money. Enjoy!

5 Tips to Managing Your Single Girls' Budget
by Lizzy Smith                     

May 12, 2014

When I was married, I hated managing and living on a budget. It was my duty and I did it but I dreaded it.

And now that I’m divorced, guess what? I still hate managing and living on a budget.

A few years ago, I read the Dave Ramsay plan for budgeting. He is a big advocate of cash and it made a lot of sense. But trying to convince my husband to go along with the Ramsay concept was an exercise in futility. It was just one more thing to argue about so I gave up.

After our split, the ball was in my court. It was time to set up my Single Mom Budget and figure out how I was going to manage my money. No one to argue with this time around. It took me a bit but I love the way it’s turned out.

Keep reading...

Divorced Moms column: 20 Summer Wardrobe Essentials Every Stylish Girl Must Own

My latest Divorced Moms column!

20 Summer Wardrobe Essentials Every Stylish Girl Must Own
by Lizzy Smith                    

May 08, 2014

It’s summertime and warmer temps. What better way to welcome in the new season than to go through your closet and purge and refresh? First, I'm a fashionista wannabe. I study InStyle magazine and have watched too many "What Not To Wear" episodes than I care to admit. That's why I try to keep it simple so that I can't screw it up. I think I've got a little recipe that works (for me). Here are my 20 favorites.

1. Flip Flops

In my book, a girl can’t have too many pairs of flip flops. Jeweled, plain, colors, metallic and embellished—it’s all good. I purposely make sure my flip flops don’t match my outfit—that way they stand out more. What’s even better is that the price of flip flops range in price, that way you can find a a pair to fit any budget. I’ve spent $3 to $150, from Old Navy to Saks to Ross, the styles and prices are amazing.

Keep reading...

Sleeping alone

When I was a child growing up in Bishop, California, we experienced intense windstorms. The type of storms that would make the house shake and the howling terrified me. I swear, I thought for sure that the house would come off its foundation and blow away, just like in the Wizard of Oz. When these windstorms hit (sometimes, the winds would get up to 70 miles per hour), I would wake up and try to go back to sleep and calm my pounding heart. I was embarrassed to wake up my parents. I felt like such a coward. Usually, I just couldn't help it. I'd finally get out of bed, got my parents' bedroom and tell them how afraid I was. I would crawl into bed with my mom and my dad would go sleep in my bed. Finally with someone in bed with me, I could go back to sleep and actually sleep very well. No worries. I was safe.

As I grew older, I loved storms. When I lived in Washington, DC, the amazing thunder and lightening storms were some of my favorite things. I marveled at what nature could do and I felt so safe and protected indoors while danger lurked just outside.

After getting diagnosed with myeloma, I became childlike again. I was afraid to sleep alone. I felt danger everywhere. I actually felt danger lurking inside my body and there was nowhere safe to hide. If I was around other people, with lots of distractions, I didn't have to think about it as much. But when no one was around and it was just me and God, well, I felt terror sometimes. I'd pray and beg God to let me live, to let the treatments work, and to let me be alive long enough to raise my children. But there was not safety, no respite. I oftentimes simply slept on the couch. I was in so much pain that getting in and out of bed could be really "un-fun" and so the couch was easier. But when I did sleep in my own bed, I slept with the TV on. Sex In The City played all night long until (and I don't know what time this was) it switched over to info-mercials. I would wake up around 6:30 and switch it to the local news and then at 7:00AM, start my ritual of getting out of bed and waking up the girls for school. Without the TV on, I became too afraid to get rest.

It took me a good eight months before I could turn off the TV and sleep soundly in silence. When that happened, I realized that I had made important progress in my emotional healing. I was surviving my diagnosis and my divorce. Things were slowly improving and life was achieving a sense of normalcy for me.

I  no longer fear silence, darkness or even death. I want to live. I love life. But, really, I fear nothing. I mean, I do fear cancer and chronic illness. Of course, who doesn't? But letting go of fear is rather amazing. It doesn't mean I don't ever experience fear, grief, or sadness. But I know that inside this body is a survivor.

Divorced Moms column: The Return of Me. Finding Fearless Lizzy Post Divorce

My latest Divorced Moms column is out! Happy Monday.

The Return of Me. Finding Fearless Lizzy Post Divorce
by Lizzy Smith                    

May 05, 2014

I look back at the person I was while married and it saddens me. The more I write and reflect about that prior life, the more I realize how much I was not myself – at all. Before marriage, I was funny, sarcastic, happy, energetic, smart, and witty. I loved exploring new places and learning new things. I loved robust conversations and shopping; traveling and cooking. I found joy everywhere. I loved life and felt on top of the world. But during my marriage, I quickly became a shell of myself in order to try and “keep the peace” in the midst of a tumultuous and abusive marriage.

Case in point…

While I was married, I read Reading Lolita In Tehran. It was the story of a female professor of literature at the University of Tehran during the Iranian Revolution. Her students were reading many of the same books that I read in college and it inspired me to put aside my favorite “chick lit” books and Vanity Fair magazines for a bit and read something of substance. My then-husband, Rob, read nothing. Not a newspaper or magazine or, heaven forbid, a book. He told me many times that he hadn’t read a book since the sixth grade. I thought this might be the perfect bonding opportunity- pick a good book and we could read it together before falling asleep. Maybe if he experienced great literature, it would inspire him to read more and maybe, just maybe, he’d start being different. I know—it was a stretch and not a realistic expectation but, hey, I was gasping at any straw. So I picked The Great Gatsby. It was short, easy to read, and the story haunted me.

For two nights, I read one chapter out loud to Rob. Until the third night when I started to read and Rob nearly shouted at me: “Stop! I just want to go to bed. This is stupid!” I felt like he had slapped me. I got out of bed and took a long hot bath and read the book alone. Oh well, I tried.

My point is that Rob and I were on different planets when it came to our interests, priorities, and desires in life. Alcoholism aside, finding things to talk about with Rob was a challenge because his interests were fishing, work, and where we should go out to dinner next. And my interests ranged from kids to managing a home to future vacations to… yes, current events, politics, weather, a tiny miniscule of work and just about everything in between. I soon discovered that there were loads of triggers for Rob that would surely start a huge fight. Those topics could include anything that had to do with running the home, children, or finances. And he knew nothing about anything that required reading a book, magazine, newspaper, or listening to a news source. Intellectual curiosity was non-existent. But even if I did manage to avoid obvious hot topics, anything could (and did) become a trigger. So I withdrew more and more into myself. I laughed less. I was not spontaneous. I was cold and reserved. I was sad. I often did things on autopilot, taking no joy or satisfaction from anything except achieving a spotless home. It was the only thing that was in my control so control it I did. With a vengeance.

Keep reading...

Losing my (rugby) virginity

It's never too late to learn or try new things. And this is the topic of today's post- new things.

 

Yesterday, William, Morgan and I went to our first ever college rugby game. (Siena stayed with my mom because she is sick - again - with a fever and cold. She was super sick just a few weeks ago. Ugh. Oh well, let's get her sick and well now because we leave for Italy in just 25 days so better now than later!) Morgan and I were complete newbies to the sport (William was not). We went to the Real Salt Lake stadium and watched the national championship game between BYU and Berkley. BYU won for the third consecutive year. (How BYU can turn out championship rugby and volleyball teams yet suck in football and basketball is another story.) But nonetheless, it was a spectacularly beautiful day and the game was awesome. Weird and fascinating and brutal. We loved it. And I did something I swore I'd never do again-- I cheered on BYU. It didn't make me feel ill so, hey, it all worked out. After the game, we spent hours going from store to store trying to find just the right soccer shoes for Morgan. We got some dinner, then met my dad and brother and watched the new Spiderman movie on the IMax screen. I hated the movie. I found it long, rambling, slow and non-sensical. It sort of developed story lines and then didn't develop them. And I felt like the movie would never end. William fell asleep during part of it and I almost joined him. Oh well.

A few days prior, William and I went to the Tulip Festival at Thanksgiving Point gardens. It was so beautiful and we literally stopped and smelled the tulips. It was fresh and delicious and peaceful. It was a very happy morning. Last year, we went to the Tulip Festival, too, and I was still wearing a wig. I was miserable because my hair was growing back in and my wigs weren't sitting right on my head any longer and they made my scalp itch. If there was just a slight amount of wind, I'd wear a hat over it because I was afraid my wig would just blow off. Anyway, William and I were walking out of the gardens and a cute girl with a short haircut walked past us. I grabbed William's arm and said, "See that girl? My hair looks kind of like that without the wig." He said, "It's cute. Why are you wearing a wig anymore?" Good question. A few weeks later, I bravely pitched the wig and went with the short haircut until I had enough length that I was able to add hair extensions. It was a huge, ginormous step for me. Here we are a year later and I have just four hair extensions on the side of my head only. And before we leave for Italy, I'm taking out all the hair extensions. My hair is naturally very curly so I either blowdry it straight or I put huge big curls. Either way, it's HAIR!

On Friday, I let Morgan ditch school for the day. She's doing great in school and she went to my weekly Velcade injection appointment at Huntsman Cancer Institute. At my appointment, we met my friend and fellow Myeloma Warrior, Jenny, and we filmed me getting my port accessed and getting my chemo injection. We are going to use that video on the www.myelomacrowd.org site and also add it to the new Youtube channel, too. Jenny filmed and Morgan was a backup. Morgan wants to be a nurse and loves going to Huntsman with me. The nurses are so nice to her and sometimes they allow her to help them take the pulse and blood pressure of other patients. It's fun to see her be excited about a future career path. After my appointment, we went shopping. Morgan's step sister, Kalie, sent her a gift card to Hollister for her birthday and she spent it on a top, a pair of shorts, and a cute sweater. And then we went to lunch. It was a nice Mommy-Morgan day. We need to do that more often.

Now the Mom-guilt thing: On Saturday morning, Siena woke up and said she felt dizzy and her tummy hurt. I blew it off. "You're tired, you went to bed too late, and you have a game. Let's go." She played a decent game-- scoring the only two goals for the team and winning it 2-1. A few days earlier, she scored five goals! Because I had promised to pay out $5 per goal, she's getting rich while I'm getting poor! She's saving all that cash for our trip to Europe at the end of the month. Anyway, as it turns out, she really was sick! She had a fever for the rest of the day. Thanks to my Angel mom, Siena was able to stay with her all day and rest up. Thanks, Mom!

This week promises to be a busy one. I meet up with Jenny tomorrow so we can coordinate our presentation to a BYU class. We are hoping to get a few interns to help us with the Myeloma Crowd efforts. I haven't given a presentation in a very long time. Hopefully it's a success-- not for me or for Jenny personally, but for our efforts to find cures and treatments for this disease.

I cannot believe that our Big Trip is just a few weeks away. I'm a little overwhelmed by the reality. I'm really excited. I need a vacation! But the packing and prep- yikes! I pulled out our passports and, thank goodness, they're all still valid. Siena's expires next March so after the summer, I'll need to get her a new one. I do believe we're going to head up to Canada in July so after that trip, it's new passport time. I love seeing new parts of the country and world and I hope Morgan and Siena appreciate how lucky they are to be able to experience these trips. I hope it broadens their perspective on life. They're such amazing and good girls. I'm so proud of them.

I love Spring. I love flowers and the smell of newness. It's hopeful, and I love hope. Speaking of smells, I put a roast in the oven with lots of carrots, garlic, potatoes and even apples. Oh my gosh it smells so good. I'm melting.

 

The Road to Myeloma Diagnosis (as seen on www.myelomacrowd.org)

Symptoms and signs. The months prior to myeloma diagnosis. From www.myelomacrowd.org

The Road to My Myeloma Diagnosis
by Lizzy Smith

I’m often asked what my myeloma symptoms were. How did I know I needed to go to a doctor? How was it discovered? I know in everyone’s minds it boils down to this: If I have cancer, what are the early warning signs?

For me, I often say that discovering myeloma was accidental and random and that I had no real symptoms. But looking back on the months leading up to diagnosis, that isn’t true.

The first signs of trouble were in late May 2012, some eight months before diagnosis. As we did every year, my then-husband and I flew from San Diego to Utah to run in the Ogden Marathon. I always ran the marathon as part of a team and my official leg was five miles. Because I was the second to last leg, I always ran the additional three miles, too, totaling just over eight miles to the finish line. The night before the race, I took a home pregnancy test and found out that I was pregnant at the age of 43. It was my second pregnancy of the year—in January I had discovered I was pregnant, too, and had miscarried a few months later. I started my portion of the race and almost immediately just simply couldn’t run. It is like my body hit a wall. Less than one mile into it, I stopped running, threw up and walked the rest of the way. That was odd—I could run at least five miles with no training at all and now I couldn’t run just one mile? I chalked it up to the pregnancy.

Several weeks later, I realized that I either cracked a rib or at least had severe rib pain. I looked up pregnancy symptoms and found that many other women had sore ribs too. That’s what it was. I thought nothing more of it. A month later, I miscarried again but I had another cracked or sore rib, this time on the other side of my ribcage. Once that healed, I caught a cold and seemed to crack another rib from coughing. In December, just weeks prior to diagnosis, my husband grabbed me around the waist and broke a rib. That was weird.

I also tried to start up with running again in the summer prior to diagnosis and I just couldn’t do it. I could walk ten miles but I couldn’t run more than a mile. I thought I was just out of shape and unmotivated so instead of running, I simply enjoyed walking. Looking back, I know that I was severely anemic thanks to the myeloma.

About four months prior to diagnosis, I started experiencing severe night sweats. I would wake up drenched with the sheets soaking wet. I thought it was stress from a terrible marriage. I would have nightmares and wake up with a pounding heart, terrorized, and feeling like I had just stepped out of a shower.

I also started becoming extremely forgetful. I wouldn’t remember my drive home. I would be in meetings that I wouldn’t remember being in at all. Work deliverables went ignored because I simply didn’t remember them at all. That wasn’t like me. I thought it was all stress related, though.
And, finally, in early December, just a month prior to diagnosis, I went on a business trip to New Orleans for five days. When I got home, I was exhausted and burned out in a way that I can’t adequately describe. But, I thought, I should be exhausted. I had worked insane hours in New Orleans. I had come home to a disaster — filth, laundry, dogs who needed care, children whose homework had been ignored, and a husband whose life was spiraling out of control from the effects of alcoholism.

I finally went to my doctor and told him that I was exhausted and wanted blood work done. I really didn’t think I had anything severe going on and, really, why I insisted on blood work is quite odd. Was it my guardian angel or God directing me to get help NOW? I think it was. I have felt that direct hand of God throughout my diagnosis and fight to get well. This was the start of it. My doctor thought I was being overly dramatic. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong. I think you’re having severe marital problems but we can do some blood work.” And so on my way out of the building, I stopped by the lab for a CBC. And that started my road towards true diagnosis. While my doctor had terrible bedside manners, I will forever be grateful that as soon as he saw the results, he realized that I needed follow-up testing. I was dangerously anemic but my iron levels were fine. That wasn’t normal. He immediately ordered more blood work. And then a body scan and a 24-hour collection kit and bone marrow biopsy. By the time I was officially diagnosed, I was a stage III with over 90 percent myeloma cells in my bone marrow, though a clean body scan. Somehow the myeloma cells hadn’t yet found their way into my bones.

I was always watchful for signs of cancer and I didn’t think I had any of them typical symptoms. I did not have unexplained weight loss. I didn’t have lumps or bones that broke easily (although yes I did – my fractured ribs were broken bones). I didn’t “feel” differently. Except yes I did. I just simply thought it was symptoms of pregnancy or stress. But yet the symptoms I did experience seemed so ordinary and so easily explained away. I believe that my pregnancies spurred unnatural cell growth. I believe that my myeloma started growing quickly right around the time I became pregnant the second time—and I believe the myeloma grew fast and out of control. For me, I believe that my disease went from nothing to everything in just months. I will never know for sure but in my gut, I just know it’s true.

I hear from so many other myeloma warriors about visiting their general doctor and waiting months if not years before they are diagnosed. Few doctors know the signs or what to look for. Education and awareness is key and it will make a difference in prognosis.

Keep reading...

Divorced Moms column: Can Wife Sue Mistress? The Fascinating Case of Donald Sterling

My latest Divorced Moms column is right here. Enjoy and happy Friday, readers!

Can Wife Sue Mistress? The Fascinating Case of Donald Sterling
by Lizzy Smith                    

May 01, 2014

Can a wife sue her husband’s mistress? I’m fascinated by the concept. There have been a few notable cases in which women have been successful in one fashion or another. Behind all of the emotions that marriage entails, it boils down to a legal contract between two adults. If someone interferes with that contract, there may be grounds for a lawsuit against the offending party, in this case the mistress. If that is the case, there are some laws and statues that can provide remedies.

The latest high profile case involves LA Clippers team owner Donald Sterling. The story includes racist comments, a lifetime ban from basketball, fines, audio recordings, a bigtime scandal... and one very pissed off wife who is suing the mistress. Donald Sterling has created quite a mess. In fact, in my opinion, he has earned a lifetime achievement award from the Douchebag Mens Club.

In case you missed it, here's a recap...

Keep reading...