Some times the best medicine for getting out of your own head is writing.
A few years ago I told a story about my time as a nanny in Boston. It began to evolve into something that I enjoyed weaving into a story of characters...I've been writing and revising and writing some more.
I haven't touched it in about a year. But today I opened the file and words began to flow again.
I often find myself needing to create. It is good to feel those juices flowing.
Showing posts with label how I see it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label how I see it. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Last year...
Last year at this time I was so filled with worry, that I barely had time to enjoy the last days of school.
Last year at this time I was rubbing my knees raw in prayer for this family.
Last year at this time I was praying unemployment wouldn't last long for my husband.
Last year at this time I was coming to terms with loosing our house, both being angry at the bank for not working with us to stay and hopeful they would except the offer we received to short sell before the sheriff auction. Thinking about this brings back feelings of disgust, humility, hope...FAITH.
God had to have a plan for us.
Last year at this time we were in the storm of our lives, and I can barely remember the kids school year ending...
I was wrapped up in keeping it together, when every fiber of my being wanted to kick and scream and be mad at God.
It was a daily struggle for me. I didn't feel like I could breathe for months. June was especially bad, this time last year.
We have all grown. Things have changed, bitterness has turned to joy.
The kids miss the house; it was the only one they knew. The dog misses the house, and her yard to protect! The cat misses the freedom of her quiet street. Rob and I don't miss it at all. For us it was always a temporary home, a place "for now" until we could build our forever home. When I used to think of that house I saw the things I wanted to change, the things I hated and wanted updated.
When I reflect back on the house now, I still feel those things, but I see it as the place we built our family. Slowly the memories are coming back to me. The peony bushes I re-planted when we moved in. The decorating of the kids rooms. The beautiful paint color we painted just before moving in. Redoing the kitchen floor just Rob and I. The new front door and windows we had installed to protect us from the cold winters. Cutting the grass on our riding lawn mover. Trick or Treating in our neighborhood and all the little old people so excited to see the kids that they would just dump the candy in the buckets, not caring that we would be saying "Just one! Just one!"
Riding our bikes on the path, the weather sirens testing every month and the dog singing along!
The cursing of weeds in the spring/summer and leaves in the fall! The way my cabinets were and where everything was stashed in them. The stormy nights we cuddled up downstairs in our basement together. The Christmas', oh the Chirstmas' we shared in that house. How there was no fireplace, so the stockings were hung on the stair railings instead. The joy I felt when anything was replaced: a light fixture, a ceiling fan, a new towel bar! The work that went into taking that wallpaper down! Oh, how I hated the wallpaper!
I huge garage(s). We had 2 two-car garages, one behind the other. You have no idea how grand this was!!!!!
We now have a "basic" 2 car garage and only 1 car! Yet there never seems to be enough room...gee, I wonder why that is? wink wink
I can see the growth in my kids. We did everything we could to shield them from the drama and concern we had at the time. We spoke only in whispers in the dark of night. We told them things only when it was time to tell them. Both were nervous about switching schools, and sad. The pool at the new place helped cope!
We prayed for our kids to transition smoothly, and they did. They made friends and had the best teachers. Butter needed a bit more help with her reading, she doesn't like it, and these teachers were ON IT! She loves them, and for them she worked really hard, she still doesn't like to read, but she knows she has to work at it. I am so proud of both of them, they still don't know how desperate we were at this time last year. I am grateful that my God was there for me, I can't imagine not having hope, not knowing His promises.
I am so ready to say goodbye to last year and move on.
Today I am cherishing how far we've come and peacefully waiting for His instructions for our future.
Last year at this time I was rubbing my knees raw in prayer for this family.
Last year at this time I was praying unemployment wouldn't last long for my husband.
Last year at this time I was coming to terms with loosing our house, both being angry at the bank for not working with us to stay and hopeful they would except the offer we received to short sell before the sheriff auction. Thinking about this brings back feelings of disgust, humility, hope...FAITH.
God had to have a plan for us.
Last year at this time we were in the storm of our lives, and I can barely remember the kids school year ending...
I was wrapped up in keeping it together, when every fiber of my being wanted to kick and scream and be mad at God.
It was a daily struggle for me. I didn't feel like I could breathe for months. June was especially bad, this time last year.
We have all grown. Things have changed, bitterness has turned to joy.
The kids miss the house; it was the only one they knew. The dog misses the house, and her yard to protect! The cat misses the freedom of her quiet street. Rob and I don't miss it at all. For us it was always a temporary home, a place "for now" until we could build our forever home. When I used to think of that house I saw the things I wanted to change, the things I hated and wanted updated.
When I reflect back on the house now, I still feel those things, but I see it as the place we built our family. Slowly the memories are coming back to me. The peony bushes I re-planted when we moved in. The decorating of the kids rooms. The beautiful paint color we painted just before moving in. Redoing the kitchen floor just Rob and I. The new front door and windows we had installed to protect us from the cold winters. Cutting the grass on our riding lawn mover. Trick or Treating in our neighborhood and all the little old people so excited to see the kids that they would just dump the candy in the buckets, not caring that we would be saying "Just one! Just one!"
Riding our bikes on the path, the weather sirens testing every month and the dog singing along!
The cursing of weeds in the spring/summer and leaves in the fall! The way my cabinets were and where everything was stashed in them. The stormy nights we cuddled up downstairs in our basement together. The Christmas', oh the Chirstmas' we shared in that house. How there was no fireplace, so the stockings were hung on the stair railings instead. The joy I felt when anything was replaced: a light fixture, a ceiling fan, a new towel bar! The work that went into taking that wallpaper down! Oh, how I hated the wallpaper!
I huge garage(s). We had 2 two-car garages, one behind the other. You have no idea how grand this was!!!!!
We now have a "basic" 2 car garage and only 1 car! Yet there never seems to be enough room...gee, I wonder why that is? wink wink
I can see the growth in my kids. We did everything we could to shield them from the drama and concern we had at the time. We spoke only in whispers in the dark of night. We told them things only when it was time to tell them. Both were nervous about switching schools, and sad. The pool at the new place helped cope!
We prayed for our kids to transition smoothly, and they did. They made friends and had the best teachers. Butter needed a bit more help with her reading, she doesn't like it, and these teachers were ON IT! She loves them, and for them she worked really hard, she still doesn't like to read, but she knows she has to work at it. I am so proud of both of them, they still don't know how desperate we were at this time last year. I am grateful that my God was there for me, I can't imagine not having hope, not knowing His promises.
I am so ready to say goodbye to last year and move on.
Today I am cherishing how far we've come and peacefully waiting for His instructions for our future.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Mikey.
Memorial day is meant to remember those who have lost their lives fighting for our country.It wasn't until I married that I personally knew someone serving IN the armed forces.
My Dad served 2 years in the Navy, that was all I knew, personally.
That is until my Uncle died, then the stories...He is a hero to me, I wish I could have told him that; heard his stories from him, but that just wasn't who he was. No, he would tell us stories about how he was a cowboy and chased Indians on horseback...he really didn't. He loved western movies, so I think that is where he got his inspiration.
It is ironic how death makes you see someone differently, see them more acutely.
I grew up on a small block of ramblers. Most of our neighbors were older, grandpa's and grandma's already. The only other "kid" was a boy across the street who was 1-2 years older then my sister; who was 2 1/2 years older then I. So he was like a "big kid" to me. I remember sneaking into his garage and playing with his matchbox cars. Sometimes, I thought they would play much better if they were in my yard!
He would get mad, storm over and yell at me.
"Sara, you can't just take my cars!"
or "Look now! You got this one full of sand!"
or "This is a collectible!"
Well I know it's collectible, why do you think I was trying to put them in like piles? Blue ones, red ones, green ones...
He would huff out a defeated breath and say; "Okay Sara you can have this one. But NO more!"
I would hold that car in my hand like it was a precious jewel. It was mine. And Mikey gave it to me.
Mikey was the youngest of 4 boys. Mikey hated being called "Mikey", it was Michael. I was the only one who wouldn't get pummeled for calling him that.
Oh, my sister tried and she got a fat lip for it too!
She deserved most of what she got from Mikey, she was mean and she called people names, so Mikey made sure she didn't get away with it.
Mom told Sherri to stay away from "Mike", that if she couldn't get along with him to stay away from him, even when he was in our yard. He was often in our yard, collecting his matchbox cars from me!
I remember when they got a pigeon coop. It had a latch on the door and all these different ramps and ledges inside for the birds to sit on. The floor was always full of poo, but I rarely looked at the floor, how could you when there were such beautiful birds cooing all around you?
Sherri locked me inside it once. I screamed bloody murder until Mikey found me and let me out.
Oh, I hugged him and cried "She locked me in Mikey! She locked me inside!"
He stroked my hair and told me not to cry. Once I stopped, he pulled me back and said all serious; "Sara you are not to go in there. You are not supposed to open the latch. The birds could get out."
At this I would pout and stomp my feet and shake his arms off me and yell: "You always tell me what I can't do! Mikey you're as mean as Sherri!"
Then he would smile; "No I'm not."
"Yes. Yes you are Mikey Brown, you are mean."
He would reach out to tickle me, I knew it was coming and I was fast!
I was laughing and screaming all at once. He was faster, he would chase me down and tickle me until I would say he wasn't mean.
I remember when Mikey got a tent and I was going to sleep outside in it with him. We were going to camp right there in his back yard.
The tent was cool, I liked hearing the zipper zip closed. Then I lay there: "Mikey? What if someone zips it open and takes us?"
"Sara who's going to take us?"
"Somebody meaner than Sherri."
He laughed. He poked me in the ribs and asked; "Who's meaner then Sherri?"
He was teasing me, but I was still scared.
He put his arm under my head and said; "Sara I'll protect you."
We laid there for awhile, not saying anything, I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, but the wind kicked up and rattled the tent. I tried to see if Mikey was still awake, his eyes were closed. I nudged him. Nothing.
"Mikey?" I whispered.
"Mmmm?"
"Mikey, I'm scared."
He rolled over and looked at me.
He looked disappointed, he crawled out of his sleeping bag and rolled mine up under his arm and he walked me home.
My mom was waiting at the door, she didn't say anything when I trudged up the steps. Mikey said it for me; "She's too scared."
My mom nodded and said goodnight. As I walked to my room I saw Mikey crossing the street, and I heard his door slam, he didn't go back to sleep in the tent.
Mikey was the only one of the Brown boys that didn't play hockey, so he never wanted to go skating at the park rink in the winter. I liked going, I especially liked watching the older boys play, and sometimes Billy or Dave Brown would see me and yell; "Hey little Sara! Come to watch the boys play a real sport?"
I liked when the recognized me and talked to me. They were very cute. They also teased Mikey about liking music instead of sports.
Mikey could sing, and play the piano. I liked when I got to hear him sing. We used to put on shows in my basement. He would drape sheets from the ceiling for curtains and lay out mats for our stage. He would bring over his boombox and piano and he would sing and I would dance and sometimes sing back-up but only when Mikey said because :"Sara you have to sing on key or it sounds awful!"
My favorite was when he would sing Neil Diamond.
"Sweeeeeeeet Caroline!"
"Sara you sing bum bum bummmmmm, at this part."
To this day every time I hear that song I see Mikey Brown.
Then we moved. I remember it.
He was sitting in his garage and the trucks were loaded with our things and Mom said "Go say goodbye to Mike."
I didn't know what she meant, why goodbye, we weren't moving that far.
"Hi Mikey, Mom says I have to say goodbye now."
He didn't even look up, so I knelt down and started fondling the matchbox cars he was organizing.
Each one I picked up, he'd snatch back and put it out of my reach in another box.
Until finally I stopped, and I just stared at him.
"Mikey, you're gonna come see me at the new house right?"
"I don't have a car Sara."
I put my hand on his and said "But you will,"
"In another year Sara!"
He was mad.
"Mikey don't be mad. I'll ride my bike down."
I waited for something, anything, nothing. I got up and walked away.
I hear him come up behind me just when I reached my driveway. He hugged me super tight, I thought he kissed my head but I can't be sure because that is when he punched my arm.
"See ya Squirt!"
I couldn't say anything back, I was crying.
I don't remember time really passing, but I do remember the day a black poniac firebird pulled up into our driveway. I watched it turn onto our street and then into our driveway, I thought it must be some boy for Sherri, some knuckledheaded boy who thought my sister was hot and wanted to get in her pants. Bletch.
Then I heard "Hey Squirt!"
"MIKEY!"
I said running and jumping up into his arms! He spun me around until I was dizzy.
He set me down slowly making sure I wasn't going to tip over like usual.
"Told ya!" I said.
"Told me what?"
"That you'd have a car!"
"Want to go for a ride?"
"YES!"
I ran into the house long enough to shout: "Mikey's here and we're going for a ride! Bye!"
His car was fast! His car was loud! His car was awesome!
My heart was sad when we turned back onto my street, he came in for awhile to chat with my mom.
He kindly asked about Sherri, but I knew it was for show because I would hear her say she saw "Mikey Brown at school, and man what a geek he is!"
After my parent's divorce, Mom and I moved to another city, Dad and Sherri stayed so she could finish high school.
Once I got my drivers license I drove to see Mikey's new apartment. He told me all about his brothers, and school and then he told me about his music and I begged him to sing Neil Diamond to me, which of course he did. I remember hugging him goodbye that evening and kissing him on the mouth for the first time ever. Just a simple kiss, nothing more nothing less, but it was the one and only.
He moved out of state to pursue music. I went on to graduate and then I moved out to Boston to work as a nanny. I found my way back to Minnesota and while downtown I recgonized him standing across the street watching the same parade I was...
"Mikey!" I called.
It took at least 3 for him to hear me and find me in the crowd and realize yes, someone was talking to him!
I waited for a break in the procession and then bolted straight for him.
I wrapped my arms around him and noticed he was bigger then before, but so was I. We talked about all that we had done since we saw each other last. Sherri crossed the street just to see him and hear what he had to say, though it meant nothing to her and she cared very little.
We promised to stay in touch.
Mikey got to meet my husband, but did not come to our wedding, I'm not sure if I didn't invite him becuase I had no current address or he couldn't make it. But he was not there.
I also don't remember how Mikey died, just that he did, suddenly.
I remember being very upset, and feeling sad that some of his dreams never did come true, sad that he was the odd one in his family and he was often lonely because of that.
Mikey had a devilish smile, that could hide his insecurities well. He had a wonderful voice and big soft heart. He also had a birthday next to mine; His March 28, mine March 29.
We lived across the street from each other for 11 years, our first dog was a puppy from his, he taught me to ride a bike and I taught him how to feed and diaper a dolly!
He taught me about Neil Diamond and I convinced him Michael Jackson's Thriller album should be our next "show"!
I'm still deathly afraid to sleep in a tent, and pigeon poo doesn't bother me.
I still think black Pontiac Firebirds are cool.
And I still think about the boy who lived across the street and let me call him "Mikey."
My Dad served 2 years in the Navy, that was all I knew, personally.
That is until my Uncle died, then the stories...He is a hero to me, I wish I could have told him that; heard his stories from him, but that just wasn't who he was. No, he would tell us stories about how he was a cowboy and chased Indians on horseback...he really didn't. He loved western movies, so I think that is where he got his inspiration.
It is ironic how death makes you see someone differently, see them more acutely.
I grew up on a small block of ramblers. Most of our neighbors were older, grandpa's and grandma's already. The only other "kid" was a boy across the street who was 1-2 years older then my sister; who was 2 1/2 years older then I. So he was like a "big kid" to me. I remember sneaking into his garage and playing with his matchbox cars. Sometimes, I thought they would play much better if they were in my yard!
He would get mad, storm over and yell at me.
"Sara, you can't just take my cars!"
or "Look now! You got this one full of sand!"
or "This is a collectible!"
Well I know it's collectible, why do you think I was trying to put them in like piles? Blue ones, red ones, green ones...
He would huff out a defeated breath and say; "Okay Sara you can have this one. But NO more!"
I would hold that car in my hand like it was a precious jewel. It was mine. And Mikey gave it to me.
Mikey was the youngest of 4 boys. Mikey hated being called "Mikey", it was Michael. I was the only one who wouldn't get pummeled for calling him that.
Oh, my sister tried and she got a fat lip for it too!
She deserved most of what she got from Mikey, she was mean and she called people names, so Mikey made sure she didn't get away with it.
Mom told Sherri to stay away from "Mike", that if she couldn't get along with him to stay away from him, even when he was in our yard. He was often in our yard, collecting his matchbox cars from me!
I remember when they got a pigeon coop. It had a latch on the door and all these different ramps and ledges inside for the birds to sit on. The floor was always full of poo, but I rarely looked at the floor, how could you when there were such beautiful birds cooing all around you?
Sherri locked me inside it once. I screamed bloody murder until Mikey found me and let me out.
Oh, I hugged him and cried "She locked me in Mikey! She locked me inside!"
He stroked my hair and told me not to cry. Once I stopped, he pulled me back and said all serious; "Sara you are not to go in there. You are not supposed to open the latch. The birds could get out."
At this I would pout and stomp my feet and shake his arms off me and yell: "You always tell me what I can't do! Mikey you're as mean as Sherri!"
Then he would smile; "No I'm not."
"Yes. Yes you are Mikey Brown, you are mean."
He would reach out to tickle me, I knew it was coming and I was fast!
I was laughing and screaming all at once. He was faster, he would chase me down and tickle me until I would say he wasn't mean.
I remember when Mikey got a tent and I was going to sleep outside in it with him. We were going to camp right there in his back yard.
The tent was cool, I liked hearing the zipper zip closed. Then I lay there: "Mikey? What if someone zips it open and takes us?"
"Sara who's going to take us?"
"Somebody meaner than Sherri."
He laughed. He poked me in the ribs and asked; "Who's meaner then Sherri?"
He was teasing me, but I was still scared.
He put his arm under my head and said; "Sara I'll protect you."
We laid there for awhile, not saying anything, I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, but the wind kicked up and rattled the tent. I tried to see if Mikey was still awake, his eyes were closed. I nudged him. Nothing.
"Mikey?" I whispered.
"Mmmm?"
"Mikey, I'm scared."
He rolled over and looked at me.
He looked disappointed, he crawled out of his sleeping bag and rolled mine up under his arm and he walked me home.
My mom was waiting at the door, she didn't say anything when I trudged up the steps. Mikey said it for me; "She's too scared."
My mom nodded and said goodnight. As I walked to my room I saw Mikey crossing the street, and I heard his door slam, he didn't go back to sleep in the tent.
Mikey was the only one of the Brown boys that didn't play hockey, so he never wanted to go skating at the park rink in the winter. I liked going, I especially liked watching the older boys play, and sometimes Billy or Dave Brown would see me and yell; "Hey little Sara! Come to watch the boys play a real sport?"
I liked when the recognized me and talked to me. They were very cute. They also teased Mikey about liking music instead of sports.
Mikey could sing, and play the piano. I liked when I got to hear him sing. We used to put on shows in my basement. He would drape sheets from the ceiling for curtains and lay out mats for our stage. He would bring over his boombox and piano and he would sing and I would dance and sometimes sing back-up but only when Mikey said because :"Sara you have to sing on key or it sounds awful!"
My favorite was when he would sing Neil Diamond.
"Sweeeeeeeet Caroline!"
"Sara you sing bum bum bummmmmm, at this part."
To this day every time I hear that song I see Mikey Brown.
Then we moved. I remember it.
He was sitting in his garage and the trucks were loaded with our things and Mom said "Go say goodbye to Mike."
I didn't know what she meant, why goodbye, we weren't moving that far.
"Hi Mikey, Mom says I have to say goodbye now."
He didn't even look up, so I knelt down and started fondling the matchbox cars he was organizing.
Each one I picked up, he'd snatch back and put it out of my reach in another box.
Until finally I stopped, and I just stared at him.
"Mikey, you're gonna come see me at the new house right?"
"I don't have a car Sara."
I put my hand on his and said "But you will,"
"In another year Sara!"
He was mad.
"Mikey don't be mad. I'll ride my bike down."
I waited for something, anything, nothing. I got up and walked away.
I hear him come up behind me just when I reached my driveway. He hugged me super tight, I thought he kissed my head but I can't be sure because that is when he punched my arm.
"See ya Squirt!"
I couldn't say anything back, I was crying.
I don't remember time really passing, but I do remember the day a black poniac firebird pulled up into our driveway. I watched it turn onto our street and then into our driveway, I thought it must be some boy for Sherri, some knuckledheaded boy who thought my sister was hot and wanted to get in her pants. Bletch.
Then I heard "Hey Squirt!"
"MIKEY!"
I said running and jumping up into his arms! He spun me around until I was dizzy.
He set me down slowly making sure I wasn't going to tip over like usual.
"Told ya!" I said.
"Told me what?"
"That you'd have a car!"
"Want to go for a ride?"
"YES!"
I ran into the house long enough to shout: "Mikey's here and we're going for a ride! Bye!"
His car was fast! His car was loud! His car was awesome!
My heart was sad when we turned back onto my street, he came in for awhile to chat with my mom.
He kindly asked about Sherri, but I knew it was for show because I would hear her say she saw "Mikey Brown at school, and man what a geek he is!"
After my parent's divorce, Mom and I moved to another city, Dad and Sherri stayed so she could finish high school.
Once I got my drivers license I drove to see Mikey's new apartment. He told me all about his brothers, and school and then he told me about his music and I begged him to sing Neil Diamond to me, which of course he did. I remember hugging him goodbye that evening and kissing him on the mouth for the first time ever. Just a simple kiss, nothing more nothing less, but it was the one and only.
He moved out of state to pursue music. I went on to graduate and then I moved out to Boston to work as a nanny. I found my way back to Minnesota and while downtown I recgonized him standing across the street watching the same parade I was...
"Mikey!" I called.
It took at least 3 for him to hear me and find me in the crowd and realize yes, someone was talking to him!
I waited for a break in the procession and then bolted straight for him.
I wrapped my arms around him and noticed he was bigger then before, but so was I. We talked about all that we had done since we saw each other last. Sherri crossed the street just to see him and hear what he had to say, though it meant nothing to her and she cared very little.
We promised to stay in touch.
Mikey got to meet my husband, but did not come to our wedding, I'm not sure if I didn't invite him becuase I had no current address or he couldn't make it. But he was not there.
I also don't remember how Mikey died, just that he did, suddenly.
I remember being very upset, and feeling sad that some of his dreams never did come true, sad that he was the odd one in his family and he was often lonely because of that.
Mikey had a devilish smile, that could hide his insecurities well. He had a wonderful voice and big soft heart. He also had a birthday next to mine; His March 28, mine March 29.
We lived across the street from each other for 11 years, our first dog was a puppy from his, he taught me to ride a bike and I taught him how to feed and diaper a dolly!
He taught me about Neil Diamond and I convinced him Michael Jackson's Thriller album should be our next "show"!
I'm still deathly afraid to sleep in a tent, and pigeon poo doesn't bother me.
I still think black Pontiac Firebirds are cool.
And I still think about the boy who lived across the street and let me call him "Mikey."
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Motherhood (how I see it)
It is Mother's day, usually spent celebrating your own mother or being a mother...
I think about why I hate being a mother, now before you go and make judgments about what I just said keep reading it's not what you might be thinking.
From the earliest memory, I wanted to be a mommy. When I got pregnant we prayed for a healthy baby. When we brought our girl home, they let us. I mean they just let two random people who had very little experience with a newborn take her and assume she would be okay!
While she was little it was easy keeping her safe, we would just put her in a pack and play or in her crib, nice and safe. Then the walking started and suddenly you had to be on high alert at all time...nobody told us about that part.
As the years pass, nobody tells you about worrying about whether they will make friends in school, be good students, and find learning easy.
Butter was invited to a swim/slumber birthday party at a hotel just this weekend. When we got the invite I was very hesitant to let her go at all, I lightened up and said she could go for a few hours, but no to the sleep over. First, we had never met the child, second, we had never met the parents and third, I have a fear of bedbugs...
Nobody told me, when I gave birth to my daughter that I would have to face these slumber party issues? Trusting other parents with my child...praying they are not sicko perverts.
I hate that about being a mother, it makes me look at everyone as a potential pedophile. I hate being a mother that asks 20 questions of people that come in regular contact with my children to gage whether or not they have the same views/values on parenting as we do, most people understand...others have their own sense of what is appropriate, like drinking with friends while you are throwing a swim/slumber birthday party for your child...
I hate being a mother when I have to tell my kids tough stuff, like getting cancer, or dying, or how their friends aren't really their friends if they call them names and act mean to them.
I hate being a mother, when I have to hear about my child getting bullied at school and knowing this is only the beginning.
I hate being a mother and having to explain things like shaving to my 9 year old daughter, because she is already feeling gross about hair on her legs and I still see her as my sweet chubby cheeked baby girl who can't possibly be old enough to care about how her legs look!
This is the same girl who hates being told to brush her teeth at least twice a day! Nobody told us that hairy legs would be more of a bother then bad breath! What?!
Nobody told us about the talks I'd have to have with my 7 year old son about not collecting money for watching the neighbor girl, who happens to be a pastors daughter, dance. That what he is in fact doing is "pimping" and that,my friends,is definitely something I hate about being a mother! And NObody tells you about the conversations you'll have to have about penis' and what the do and how its a private thing...
Or "I don't care what so and so does, says, wears, buys...I am your Mother and in this house we..."
Hate.about.being.a.mother.
When you first become a mother, you feel like all your hopes and all your dreams have come true, but what I hate about becoming a mother is all too soon they are grown.
All too soon, they are walking and talking, going to school, driving, going off to college, getting married...having babies, and it all happens in a blink of an eye! Only your eyes still see them as they did that first time you laid eyes upon their sweet innocent, beautiful faces.
I don't really hate being a mother, actually I love every aching moment of it. There is no greater privilege, no greater joy and no greater heart-ache; then being a mother.
There is nothing I'd rather be.
I think about why I hate being a mother, now before you go and make judgments about what I just said keep reading it's not what you might be thinking.
From the earliest memory, I wanted to be a mommy. When I got pregnant we prayed for a healthy baby. When we brought our girl home, they let us. I mean they just let two random people who had very little experience with a newborn take her and assume she would be okay!
While she was little it was easy keeping her safe, we would just put her in a pack and play or in her crib, nice and safe. Then the walking started and suddenly you had to be on high alert at all time...nobody told us about that part.
As the years pass, nobody tells you about worrying about whether they will make friends in school, be good students, and find learning easy.
Butter was invited to a swim/slumber birthday party at a hotel just this weekend. When we got the invite I was very hesitant to let her go at all, I lightened up and said she could go for a few hours, but no to the sleep over. First, we had never met the child, second, we had never met the parents and third, I have a fear of bedbugs...
Nobody told me, when I gave birth to my daughter that I would have to face these slumber party issues? Trusting other parents with my child...praying they are not sicko perverts.
I hate that about being a mother, it makes me look at everyone as a potential pedophile. I hate being a mother that asks 20 questions of people that come in regular contact with my children to gage whether or not they have the same views/values on parenting as we do, most people understand...others have their own sense of what is appropriate, like drinking with friends while you are throwing a swim/slumber birthday party for your child...
I hate being a mother when I have to tell my kids tough stuff, like getting cancer, or dying, or how their friends aren't really their friends if they call them names and act mean to them.
I hate being a mother, when I have to hear about my child getting bullied at school and knowing this is only the beginning.
I hate being a mother and having to explain things like shaving to my 9 year old daughter, because she is already feeling gross about hair on her legs and I still see her as my sweet chubby cheeked baby girl who can't possibly be old enough to care about how her legs look!
This is the same girl who hates being told to brush her teeth at least twice a day! Nobody told us that hairy legs would be more of a bother then bad breath! What?!
Nobody told us about the talks I'd have to have with my 7 year old son about not collecting money for watching the neighbor girl, who happens to be a pastors daughter, dance. That what he is in fact doing is "pimping" and that,my friends,is definitely something I hate about being a mother! And NObody tells you about the conversations you'll have to have about penis' and what the do and how its a private thing...
Or "I don't care what so and so does, says, wears, buys...I am your Mother and in this house we..."
Hate.about.being.a.mother.
When you first become a mother, you feel like all your hopes and all your dreams have come true, but what I hate about becoming a mother is all too soon they are grown.
All too soon, they are walking and talking, going to school, driving, going off to college, getting married...having babies, and it all happens in a blink of an eye! Only your eyes still see them as they did that first time you laid eyes upon their sweet innocent, beautiful faces.
I don't really hate being a mother, actually I love every aching moment of it. There is no greater privilege, no greater joy and no greater heart-ache; then being a mother.
There is nothing I'd rather be.
Monday, April 30, 2012
GratiTuesday
I feel a little like I am just getting off a crazy ride.
Friday night I was dealing with a bit of anxiety and I got the bright idea to make business cards to hand out, that would give out my information: blog site, twitter...
Hubby was gracious enough to help me figure it out.
Saturday came awfully fast! I met some very sweet ladies at the meet-up, I wish I had met each and every one, but there wasn't enough time between watching videos, time constraints and my nerves, it just didn't happen. I appriciate those that have reached out to me in the past couple days, it's been nice hearing from you.
Today was the first day in 9 1/2 years I went and worked outside the home. I volunteered to help out with our local soccer club, and help them get ready for the summer season. It as a lot of fun and I plan to go back tomorrow...
We have a busy week, school plays and orthodontist appointments, card games and lunch dates.
I am learning to relax into it, into where life has us right now. I learned a lot this past weekend about choosing joy, it's a choice, we choose. I learned that I need a community, I need to be IN community, to learn from, to serve, to share, to love. I am thankful that I had an opportunity to challenge myself, show up, meet a room full of strangers and have been heart spoken to.
I am thankful my husband is patient and trusting. He is such a faith mentor.
I am thankful for my children, who snuggle up on the couch and take turns reading, who are learning to think of others when speaking words; are you encouraging or hurting?
We all need a lesson in that, I am thankful for the Lord's mercies.
Happy GratiTuesday y'all!
Friday night I was dealing with a bit of anxiety and I got the bright idea to make business cards to hand out, that would give out my information: blog site, twitter...
Hubby was gracious enough to help me figure it out.
Saturday came awfully fast! I met some very sweet ladies at the meet-up, I wish I had met each and every one, but there wasn't enough time between watching videos, time constraints and my nerves, it just didn't happen. I appriciate those that have reached out to me in the past couple days, it's been nice hearing from you.
Today was the first day in 9 1/2 years I went and worked outside the home. I volunteered to help out with our local soccer club, and help them get ready for the summer season. It as a lot of fun and I plan to go back tomorrow...
We have a busy week, school plays and orthodontist appointments, card games and lunch dates.
I am learning to relax into it, into where life has us right now. I learned a lot this past weekend about choosing joy, it's a choice, we choose. I learned that I need a community, I need to be IN community, to learn from, to serve, to share, to love. I am thankful that I had an opportunity to challenge myself, show up, meet a room full of strangers and have been heart spoken to.
I am thankful my husband is patient and trusting. He is such a faith mentor.
I am thankful for my children, who snuggle up on the couch and take turns reading, who are learning to think of others when speaking words; are you encouraging or hurting?
We all need a lesson in that, I am thankful for the Lord's mercies.
Happy GratiTuesday y'all!
Friday, April 27, 2012
That good old anxiety...again!
I'm sitting here eating some delicious pea soup {made by my mother-in-law} fighting yet another battle of anxiety.
Palms sweating, heart racing, deep breaths aren't working, minding trying trying trying to keep the song 'Take a load off Fanny' going instead of the bombardment of negative thoughts...
I hate these days. these moments!
It started last night. Hubby and I had a nice time together, good chatting, he gave me a tender kiss, that said "I love you, the kids are asleep..."
I felt the rising panic set in out.of.nowhere.
After a good old cry, I turned over, ashamed that I let anxiety rob me of this moment.
As I was brushing my teeth this morning it dawned on me; I have that "thing" tomorrow; that conference where I'll be meeting up with absolute strangers, in some one's house I've never met before...
What in the world was I thinking when I agreed to DO this?
Oh, can still, not go...but that is not the point!
Iwant to go wanted to go, it sounded fun, exciting, the potential of meeting new people and making connections.
Now that it's here, my anxiety has taking over; what if they don't like me, what if I'm not my funny, breezy self? What if someone asks if I'm pregnant, because lets face it all my fat has pooled in the front! Every time I where a dress, someone asks. I wasn't planning on where a dress tomorrow; I was planning on wearing the tightest jeans I have a standing the whole time!
Okay, not that either. I'd have to worry about farting then...
This is becoming a TMI post right here.
Okay, breath.
Let's try to write with our brain, not with what ever thought is first out of themouth er fingers.
I fought am fighting a long battle of self-esteem issues, who isn't really? Mine, for me can be crippling. I touched on the "tapes" in my last post...well, I also have "feelings" that go along with those darn words. Abandonment, worthlessness, unlovable...just a few.
These were things that came out of the family I grew up in, so naturally when it's time to go and meet new people the demon "You're family didn't even like you and you think strangers will?"
Comes in and reeks havoc on all my good intentions!
You know when on shows, there is a hysterical person spazzy out about something and someone else comes along and slaps that person out of the spaz? That's what I need, and internal beat down!
I'll be completely honest here, going to the bible and reading verses about how precious I am to God and how he knew my in my mother's womb, really don't help me much in this "mood". All it does it make me feel worse for letting these demons use my heart as a playground and not only am I what they say, but I'm also weak and a bad christian for not "taking it to the cross."
I'm the rebellious child, I guess, God can say all the sweet nourishing words he wants, but when the mood is on the demons just laugh.
This fanny seriously needs to take a load off!
And the only thing that seems to help is those suggestive rap songs that we shook our booties too 'back in the day'.
"Baby got back" and "Rump Shaker". "Gonna make you sweat" and "Whoop there it is" and let's not leave out "Ice Ice Baby".
These are the kind of songs that from the second that beat drops your body can not help itself but follow it.
Now-a-days I can appreciate a guy singing about liking big butts, because funny story, after 2 kids and 20 years my butt is actually kinda big, so it can almost be a sort of anthem right?
"Rump shaker" well, you sort of need a good size rump to shake or there would be no song...
I am certainly "sweating" and "whoop" there is the anxiety.
So I'm gonna go "ice ice" this "baby" down and chill.
Tomorrow will be great, I know this. God has a plan and I just need to remind myself this "baby got back!" As in My heavenly Father's got it...um covered. :0)
PEACE! (ha, sorry had to.)
Palms sweating, heart racing, deep breaths aren't working, minding trying trying trying to keep the song 'Take a load off Fanny' going instead of the bombardment of negative thoughts...
I hate these days. these moments!
It started last night. Hubby and I had a nice time together, good chatting, he gave me a tender kiss, that said "I love you, the kids are asleep..."
I felt the rising panic set in out.of.nowhere.
After a good old cry, I turned over, ashamed that I let anxiety rob me of this moment.
As I was brushing my teeth this morning it dawned on me; I have that "thing" tomorrow; that conference where I'll be meeting up with absolute strangers, in some one's house I've never met before...
What in the world was I thinking when I agreed to DO this?
Oh, can still, not go...but that is not the point!
I
Now that it's here, my anxiety has taking over; what if they don't like me, what if I'm not my funny, breezy self? What if someone asks if I'm pregnant, because lets face it all my fat has pooled in the front! Every time I where a dress, someone asks. I wasn't planning on where a dress tomorrow; I was planning on wearing the tightest jeans I have a standing the whole time!
Okay, not that either. I'd have to worry about farting then...
This is becoming a TMI post right here.
Okay, breath.
Let's try to write with our brain, not with what ever thought is first out of the
I fought am fighting a long battle of self-esteem issues, who isn't really? Mine, for me can be crippling. I touched on the "tapes" in my last post...well, I also have "feelings" that go along with those darn words. Abandonment, worthlessness, unlovable...just a few.
These were things that came out of the family I grew up in, so naturally when it's time to go and meet new people the demon "You're family didn't even like you and you think strangers will?"
Comes in and reeks havoc on all my good intentions!
You know when on shows, there is a hysterical person spazzy out about something and someone else comes along and slaps that person out of the spaz? That's what I need, and internal beat down!
I'll be completely honest here, going to the bible and reading verses about how precious I am to God and how he knew my in my mother's womb, really don't help me much in this "mood". All it does it make me feel worse for letting these demons use my heart as a playground and not only am I what they say, but I'm also weak and a bad christian for not "taking it to the cross."
I'm the rebellious child, I guess, God can say all the sweet nourishing words he wants, but when the mood is on the demons just laugh.
This fanny seriously needs to take a load off!
And the only thing that seems to help is those suggestive rap songs that we shook our booties too 'back in the day'.
"Baby got back" and "Rump Shaker". "Gonna make you sweat" and "Whoop there it is" and let's not leave out "Ice Ice Baby".
These are the kind of songs that from the second that beat drops your body can not help itself but follow it.
Now-a-days I can appreciate a guy singing about liking big butts, because funny story, after 2 kids and 20 years my butt is actually kinda big, so it can almost be a sort of anthem right?
"Rump shaker" well, you sort of need a good size rump to shake or there would be no song...
I am certainly "sweating" and "whoop" there is the anxiety.
So I'm gonna go "ice ice" this "baby" down and chill.
Tomorrow will be great, I know this. God has a plan and I just need to remind myself this "baby got back!" As in My heavenly Father's got it...um covered. :0)
PEACE! (ha, sorry had to.)
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
{Words}
I'm joining up with Heather at the EO today...
Words have the power to bring someone to there knees...
They have the power to give someone hope...
Ease someones pain...
make someone hurt badly...
Many times it's the hurtful words that play over and over in our heads, haunting us in the night, playing tricks on us during the day.
These "tapes" that we allow to steal our joy, were callously spoken; but are not...I repeat ARE NOT the truth.
Growing up, I had a bully sister. She loved calling me "stupid" second only to "ugly".
When I got into junior high these hurtful names morphed into "gappy" and "muppet".
I had glasses, I needed braces and my body was changing.
I had the blessing (and curse) of switching school districts in ninth grade. Nobody knew me. I had a fresh start...and nobody knew me. I ended up becoming friends with a locker neighbor, who was a foot and a half taller then me. Our first words were "Hi I'm Sara, God you're tall!" and "John; Damn you're short!" We became fast friends, had math together even though he was a grade older, they put all the district newbies in a "special" locker section, not in with our grades...nice, don't make it obvious or anything.
I survived that first year, that summer I got my braces and I got that boy to agree to be my boyfriend.
Oh, sure there was some teasing, but for the most part it bothered John more. Until he made varsity basketball and he became a star player. Not that we'd win state or anything, but John was good and he was tough and I was his biggest fan.
We dated on and off for seven more years, until finally he had to be the one to rip the band-aid off; for good.
The old tapes came flooding back, and this 21 year old girl went crazy! Or as crazy as I could go, which wasn't too crazy, since I was always rule follower. I lived; wildly for a bit. Then I came back to reality and realized that the only person I needed to please was me. I wanted to be better...
Then I met someone that introduced me to Jesus, showed me I could know him personally and then the only person I wanted to please was Him. (Jesus)
I struggled against this *new* me, this *new* grace. It was painful, the guilt, the anger, the hurt...all having to go through it, to get rid of it, to find forgiveness in it.
Sticks and stone may back my bones; but names will never hurt me...
That is a lie!
Bones can break, but you can see the healing, you know when it's healed.
The names well there seep into your soul, they latch on...
and sometimes we use them to feel...because we are afraid of not feeling anything, so we hold onto them tightly...
There are days I still feel "gappy", there are moments I feel "ugly" but it is now because I stepped off the rock. Took my eyes off the truth.
God saw all that he made, and it was very good. ~ Genesis 1:31
He didn't see blonds, or redheads, or athletes, or supermodels...and they are good.
He saw ALL that he made, and IT was very good.
Which means YOU. Which means me, before, during and after my braces, glasses, awkward stage!
Heck, even after my two children!
It's the words we let into our hearts that make us who we are.
Remember that.
Breath that in.
God made you, he saw you and you are very good.
Words have the power to bring someone to there knees...
They have the power to give someone hope...
Ease someones pain...
make someone hurt badly...
Many times it's the hurtful words that play over and over in our heads, haunting us in the night, playing tricks on us during the day.
These "tapes" that we allow to steal our joy, were callously spoken; but are not...I repeat ARE NOT the truth.
Growing up, I had a bully sister. She loved calling me "stupid" second only to "ugly".
When I got into junior high these hurtful names morphed into "gappy" and "muppet".
I had glasses, I needed braces and my body was changing.
I had the blessing (and curse) of switching school districts in ninth grade. Nobody knew me. I had a fresh start...and nobody knew me. I ended up becoming friends with a locker neighbor, who was a foot and a half taller then me. Our first words were "Hi I'm Sara, God you're tall!" and "John; Damn you're short!" We became fast friends, had math together even though he was a grade older, they put all the district newbies in a "special" locker section, not in with our grades...nice, don't make it obvious or anything.
I survived that first year, that summer I got my braces and I got that boy to agree to be my boyfriend.
Oh, sure there was some teasing, but for the most part it bothered John more. Until he made varsity basketball and he became a star player. Not that we'd win state or anything, but John was good and he was tough and I was his biggest fan.
We dated on and off for seven more years, until finally he had to be the one to rip the band-aid off; for good.
The old tapes came flooding back, and this 21 year old girl went crazy! Or as crazy as I could go, which wasn't too crazy, since I was always rule follower. I lived; wildly for a bit. Then I came back to reality and realized that the only person I needed to please was me. I wanted to be better...
Then I met someone that introduced me to Jesus, showed me I could know him personally and then the only person I wanted to please was Him. (Jesus)
I struggled against this *new* me, this *new* grace. It was painful, the guilt, the anger, the hurt...all having to go through it, to get rid of it, to find forgiveness in it.
Sticks and stone may back my bones; but names will never hurt me...
That is a lie!
Bones can break, but you can see the healing, you know when it's healed.
The names well there seep into your soul, they latch on...
and sometimes we use them to feel...because we are afraid of not feeling anything, so we hold onto them tightly...
There are days I still feel "gappy", there are moments I feel "ugly" but it is now because I stepped off the rock. Took my eyes off the truth.
God saw all that he made, and it was very good. ~ Genesis 1:31
He didn't see blonds, or redheads, or athletes, or supermodels...and they are good.
He saw ALL that he made, and IT was very good.
Which means YOU. Which means me, before, during and after my braces, glasses, awkward stage!
Heck, even after my two children!
It's the words we let into our hearts that make us who we are.
Remember that.
Breath that in.
God made you, he saw you and you are very good.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Lurking, bullying and a bit about me...
Most of my posts have the label how I see it. Because I write about my opinions.
I woke up this morning thinking of a loving post I wanted to write to my girl. Things I would want her to know. I started writing on my ipad, but writing a blog post is so much easier sitting at the desk at the computer.
As I sat down, whatever feeling I had about what I wanted to write changed.
I have not been a loyal blogger. I have let days slip by without posting. It is a very random event if I comment on a post I read on other blogs.
Today on Facebook, a gal I used to read said "I'm starting to miss blogging."
And my first thought was: She stopped blogging?
She was one of the first blogs I started following when I started my blog and yet I didn't know she stopped?
Okay, before you judge me. We became Facebook friends, so it's not like I stopped hearing about her life! (and commenting)
Someone, and thankfully, wasn't me, asked her why she stopped.
Her reply was a bit stunning, but not surprising...
She said she had a few "creepers."
I do know a thing or two about this. When my family was going through some heavy stuff last year and I was posting about it...I had a couple people give me their take on my situation.
It was not in a nice way. Nothing encouraging about it. Nothing to build someone up. No, their intention was to tear me down; as if I wasn't low enough.
So I did what anyone would do, I blocked them and changed my blog address. I eventually came back, but they have since moved on. Thankfully.
Sometimes it's not that easy... I have noticed a shift in blogging. If you are "popular" or have a large following or are making money at blogging you also have an endless line of "haters" that like nothing more then to roast you over an open flame. They have no shame in how they come at you. Your kids will get mocked, your looks will get mocked, they will claim that you are reaping what you have sowed in regards to whatever trials you are facing.
When did it become okay to bash someone? There will always be gossip, I know this...but it's like walking up to a person and spitting right in their face, when you leave awful things in their comments.
These people think it's their right to give their opinions, and because you are writing publicly, you are in fact giving them permission.
Did you know there are blogs dedicated to discussions about hating so and so's blog?
It's sick, really.
Yes, some bloggers do drive me crazy with the things they "claim"real or true when in fact the reality of their actions tells the truth on those lies.
I just stop reading there.
When I think about the things I wanted to post for my daughter, I no longer think of them as precious words meant for my girl, but what would happen if a hater came on here...and said awful things, tainting what was meant for good?
I've had real life experience with being knocked down by bullying words. It is painful.
When someone tries to take your worth from you.
Insinuating that what you do is somehow less then...say because I don't bring in a paycheck I am less then a woman who works outside the home. Because she does "more" then I do, she is paid and she does mom things.
I AM NOT BASHING WORKING MOMS! YOU LADIES MAKE CHOICES AND SACRIFICES JUST LIKE STAY AT HOME MOMMIES DO.
Most of our(my husband and I's) sacrificing comes in forms of buying less, traveling less, going out less, kids doing less activities that cost money. (Gymnastics AND hockey AND dance AND instrument AND baseball, basketball, golf AND swimming AND...) Then there is the lack of adult contact/conversation for the first 5 years...This is when Barney the purple dinosaur and George the curious monkey were my personal besties!
There is no amount of money, NONE, that I would trade getting to spend these years at home raising my kids. Spending hours and hours watching them turn into little people, that will some day make their own mark on the world...
There is not a car, or a big house in a glossy neighborhood with Pottery Barn furniture and personal chef that I would trade for. There is NO career, NO salary, NO 401K...
My 401K investment is my children , I am banking on them, to be good and kind, self-reliant people.
When you have a career and children you are dividing your investments. Diversity can be a good thing, but it can also mean that things were too spread out and not enough to earn a good return investment.
I never wanted to go to college, nothing career-wise interested me. I wanted to be a mom, and until that happened for me, I took care of other people's kids.
I moved to Boston at 19 to be a live-in nanny.
I came back to MN and worked as a nanny for a family of 4 kids, then I went to broadcasting school at the wrangling of my parents, only to work at a school for kids with special needs and Downs syndrome. If ever there was something it would have been this, working with the Downs syndrome kids.(I did not want anymore school loan debt.)
My heart was forever changed from that.
School ended and so did that job.
I went on to work at a childcare center closer to home. I got tired and frustrated watching these kiddos long for their parents. I think it should be a requirement for all parents that want to put their kids in daycare to WORK at a daycare first! ESPECIALLY work at the place you want to send your child.
I couldn't do that anymore, I nannied for 2 families that "split" my salary. These 4 kiddos were my dream job. I loved working for these families. I got the summer off, and came back to instead of 4 kids under age 5, I had 5 kids under age 5. The newborn through a wrench in the whole thing. As fun as it was to have a newborn, it left little time and attention for the older ones and they let me know it! I asked one family to find other arrangements and worked 1 more year with the family of 3.
It was around this time I started thinking about grown up things like health insurance. I needed to find a job with benefits.
I did basic office work a few different places and realized I hated office politics. I would take blown-out diapers and screaming toddlers and demanding pre-schoolers over catty office women anyday!
I switched to an office full of guys, who built cell towers. I was the only girl. It had it's perks. It also had it's pitfalls. So to supplement my income I worked as a Clinque consultant, talk about night and day jobs! Working 2 jobs was not my ideal way to live my life. That is why I respect working mother's so much, because they are basically working 2 very different and very demanding jobs with little time for themselves.
I met my Husband and we made decisions based on our beliefs and visions for our family.I found a job that again was in office work, but that I would easily be able to walk away from. I was the copy girl. I literally sat around earning $11.50 an hour to wait until someone needed a copy made. Oh, and I faxed things. Once a month I put labels on the newsletter to send out, and drove to the post office to mail it. It was boring as hell, I felt like a mindless nobody...I could never have continued to do that knowing my child was at some daycare wanting me, while I waited to make a copy.
I do realize that isn't a career, and some people are meant to be things. But I also know that those desires come from where their passion is. My passion was for motherhood and all that meant in raising my child.
We had talked a few times about my doing daycare out of our home, the benefits and the disadvantages. Do we get licensed to be able to charge more? How would this effect the care I am giving my own children? How would this effect our home?
In the end we decided not to. I could only imagine giving care to someone else child whom I was already invested in; say a niece or nephew; to make it worth it.
Money does strange things to people, childcare is one of those things: working parents don't want to pay a ton of money,yet they want stellar care, from someone who'll love their child like they do. (Nobody will ever love your child like you do!)
Child care providers aren't paid nearly enough...I worked with a girl at the center, and she had a baby, she wanted to bring her child to the center, so she could at least visit him while she worked 9 hrs/day, employees, if there was space, got a discount, her salary didn't even make enough to cover her son's care...it was awful. There was always the threat of a full-paying family needing that spot that an employee's kid was taking...that was worse to see happen. She quit. I watched 5 girls quit in a year and a half because of money.
Which brings me to bullying...
A bully knows right where to hit you. They know because it's the same weakness they have inside them. They need to hurt something, someone, anyone; to get the hurt out of them even for a moment.
Because if they make someone else hurt, their pain is then validated. Usually in the form of: See Life's not fair!
Life hasn't been fair for them, so they are certainly not going to make things fair for anybody else. Only they are missing the point. Life was never suppose to be fair, life is about choosing how you live it. Sure you can go out and be Mean McMeanster or you can choose to show love. Sometimes showing love means not getting anger when Meanie tries to provoke you. Sometimes showing love means speaking softly when you really want to yell! And yes, sometimes showing love means you APOLOGIZE for hurting someone with your words even when you were just "giving your opinion."
You are not apologizing for having opinions, you are apologizing for sharing them in the callus, disrespectful, and mean way. You are apologizing for hurting that person, because that really wasn't what you intended to do, but sadly you did. Unless of course you did mean to hurt them...well, then McMeanster, you have pride issues and deeper hurts that require far more help then this un-colleged, stay at home mom can give.
My last nugget today: Lurk but don't smirk! Okay you're a lurker, you come you read...you choose not to comment, just don't go away smirking. We all have our "stuff". If you can't find anything encouraging to think when you read some one's blog or no joy comes from what you read, and I don't mean "Ha! serves her right!" kinda stuff, maybe you should stop looking there. Go out and find something that opens you back up to the GOODNESS in the world, not the pit of snark and hate that have lured you to spend your time away for doing what is right.
Be kind people.
Happy Thursday Y'all!
I woke up this morning thinking of a loving post I wanted to write to my girl. Things I would want her to know. I started writing on my ipad, but writing a blog post is so much easier sitting at the desk at the computer.
As I sat down, whatever feeling I had about what I wanted to write changed.
I have not been a loyal blogger. I have let days slip by without posting. It is a very random event if I comment on a post I read on other blogs.
Today on Facebook, a gal I used to read said "I'm starting to miss blogging."
And my first thought was: She stopped blogging?
She was one of the first blogs I started following when I started my blog and yet I didn't know she stopped?
Okay, before you judge me. We became Facebook friends, so it's not like I stopped hearing about her life! (and commenting)
Someone, and thankfully, wasn't me, asked her why she stopped.
Her reply was a bit stunning, but not surprising...
She said she had a few "creepers."
I do know a thing or two about this. When my family was going through some heavy stuff last year and I was posting about it...I had a couple people give me their take on my situation.
It was not in a nice way. Nothing encouraging about it. Nothing to build someone up. No, their intention was to tear me down; as if I wasn't low enough.
So I did what anyone would do, I blocked them and changed my blog address. I eventually came back, but they have since moved on. Thankfully.
Sometimes it's not that easy... I have noticed a shift in blogging. If you are "popular" or have a large following or are making money at blogging you also have an endless line of "haters" that like nothing more then to roast you over an open flame. They have no shame in how they come at you. Your kids will get mocked, your looks will get mocked, they will claim that you are reaping what you have sowed in regards to whatever trials you are facing.
When did it become okay to bash someone? There will always be gossip, I know this...but it's like walking up to a person and spitting right in their face, when you leave awful things in their comments.
These people think it's their right to give their opinions, and because you are writing publicly, you are in fact giving them permission.
Did you know there are blogs dedicated to discussions about hating so and so's blog?
It's sick, really.
Yes, some bloggers do drive me crazy with the things they "claim"real or true when in fact the reality of their actions tells the truth on those lies.
I just stop reading there.
When I think about the things I wanted to post for my daughter, I no longer think of them as precious words meant for my girl, but what would happen if a hater came on here...and said awful things, tainting what was meant for good?
I've had real life experience with being knocked down by bullying words. It is painful.
When someone tries to take your worth from you.
Insinuating that what you do is somehow less then...say because I don't bring in a paycheck I am less then a woman who works outside the home. Because she does "more" then I do, she is paid and she does mom things.
I AM NOT BASHING WORKING MOMS! YOU LADIES MAKE CHOICES AND SACRIFICES JUST LIKE STAY AT HOME MOMMIES DO.
Most of our(my husband and I's) sacrificing comes in forms of buying less, traveling less, going out less, kids doing less activities that cost money. (Gymnastics AND hockey AND dance AND instrument AND baseball, basketball, golf AND swimming AND...) Then there is the lack of adult contact/conversation for the first 5 years...This is when Barney the purple dinosaur and George the curious monkey were my personal besties!
There is no amount of money, NONE, that I would trade getting to spend these years at home raising my kids. Spending hours and hours watching them turn into little people, that will some day make their own mark on the world...
There is not a car, or a big house in a glossy neighborhood with Pottery Barn furniture and personal chef that I would trade for. There is NO career, NO salary, NO 401K...
My 401K investment is my children , I am banking on them, to be good and kind, self-reliant people.
When you have a career and children you are dividing your investments. Diversity can be a good thing, but it can also mean that things were too spread out and not enough to earn a good return investment.
I never wanted to go to college, nothing career-wise interested me. I wanted to be a mom, and until that happened for me, I took care of other people's kids.
I moved to Boston at 19 to be a live-in nanny.
I came back to MN and worked as a nanny for a family of 4 kids, then I went to broadcasting school at the wrangling of my parents, only to work at a school for kids with special needs and Downs syndrome. If ever there was something it would have been this, working with the Downs syndrome kids.(I did not want anymore school loan debt.)
My heart was forever changed from that.
School ended and so did that job.
I went on to work at a childcare center closer to home. I got tired and frustrated watching these kiddos long for their parents. I think it should be a requirement for all parents that want to put their kids in daycare to WORK at a daycare first! ESPECIALLY work at the place you want to send your child.
I couldn't do that anymore, I nannied for 2 families that "split" my salary. These 4 kiddos were my dream job. I loved working for these families. I got the summer off, and came back to instead of 4 kids under age 5, I had 5 kids under age 5. The newborn through a wrench in the whole thing. As fun as it was to have a newborn, it left little time and attention for the older ones and they let me know it! I asked one family to find other arrangements and worked 1 more year with the family of 3.
It was around this time I started thinking about grown up things like health insurance. I needed to find a job with benefits.
I did basic office work a few different places and realized I hated office politics. I would take blown-out diapers and screaming toddlers and demanding pre-schoolers over catty office women anyday!
I switched to an office full of guys, who built cell towers. I was the only girl. It had it's perks. It also had it's pitfalls. So to supplement my income I worked as a Clinque consultant, talk about night and day jobs! Working 2 jobs was not my ideal way to live my life. That is why I respect working mother's so much, because they are basically working 2 very different and very demanding jobs with little time for themselves.
I met my Husband and we made decisions based on our beliefs and visions for our family.I found a job that again was in office work, but that I would easily be able to walk away from. I was the copy girl. I literally sat around earning $11.50 an hour to wait until someone needed a copy made. Oh, and I faxed things. Once a month I put labels on the newsletter to send out, and drove to the post office to mail it. It was boring as hell, I felt like a mindless nobody...I could never have continued to do that knowing my child was at some daycare wanting me, while I waited to make a copy.
I do realize that isn't a career, and some people are meant to be things. But I also know that those desires come from where their passion is. My passion was for motherhood and all that meant in raising my child.
We had talked a few times about my doing daycare out of our home, the benefits and the disadvantages. Do we get licensed to be able to charge more? How would this effect the care I am giving my own children? How would this effect our home?
In the end we decided not to. I could only imagine giving care to someone else child whom I was already invested in; say a niece or nephew; to make it worth it.
Money does strange things to people, childcare is one of those things: working parents don't want to pay a ton of money,yet they want stellar care, from someone who'll love their child like they do. (Nobody will ever love your child like you do!)
Child care providers aren't paid nearly enough...I worked with a girl at the center, and she had a baby, she wanted to bring her child to the center, so she could at least visit him while she worked 9 hrs/day, employees, if there was space, got a discount, her salary didn't even make enough to cover her son's care...it was awful. There was always the threat of a full-paying family needing that spot that an employee's kid was taking...that was worse to see happen. She quit. I watched 5 girls quit in a year and a half because of money.
Which brings me to bullying...
A bully knows right where to hit you. They know because it's the same weakness they have inside them. They need to hurt something, someone, anyone; to get the hurt out of them even for a moment.
Because if they make someone else hurt, their pain is then validated. Usually in the form of: See Life's not fair!
Life hasn't been fair for them, so they are certainly not going to make things fair for anybody else. Only they are missing the point. Life was never suppose to be fair, life is about choosing how you live it. Sure you can go out and be Mean McMeanster or you can choose to show love. Sometimes showing love means not getting anger when Meanie tries to provoke you. Sometimes showing love means speaking softly when you really want to yell! And yes, sometimes showing love means you APOLOGIZE for hurting someone with your words even when you were just "giving your opinion."
You are not apologizing for having opinions, you are apologizing for sharing them in the callus, disrespectful, and mean way. You are apologizing for hurting that person, because that really wasn't what you intended to do, but sadly you did. Unless of course you did mean to hurt them...well, then McMeanster, you have pride issues and deeper hurts that require far more help then this un-colleged, stay at home mom can give.
My last nugget today: Lurk but don't smirk! Okay you're a lurker, you come you read...you choose not to comment, just don't go away smirking. We all have our "stuff". If you can't find anything encouraging to think when you read some one's blog or no joy comes from what you read, and I don't mean "Ha! serves her right!" kinda stuff, maybe you should stop looking there. Go out and find something that opens you back up to the GOODNESS in the world, not the pit of snark and hate that have lured you to spend your time away for doing what is right.
Be kind people.
Happy Thursday Y'all!
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Sass-urday
Today I was doing my by-weekly blog read, I came across a few things that made me take pause.
One blog is a charming upbeat, glass is half full kinda blog. The title of that blog is exactly what you'd expect to read about.
Enjoying the small things.
And she does, with gorgeous pictures, and moving sentences and an open heart.
Today she had a line in it, To thine's self be true...
A golden rule of sorts.
Hmmm.
I have a few creative sites I love visiting. Some days I'm so inspired, which is why they blog...and some days I'm reminded of the fact that while yes I can make some pretty cutesy stuff and spend hours in a craft store...most of my things are a result of someone else's creativity and I'm just doing it SaraSass style.
Pinterest is excellent at making me feel like a slacker in regards to crafting, decorating, self styling, hair dos, make-up application,witty comments you wish you said to that person the last time they said something stupid to you... wait this is a long list, is Pinterest really good for one's self esteem?
Having just reread my list, I thinking a therapy session may be in order.
I have in the past; participated in a meme known as What I wore Wednesday. It's fun, I guess, trying to come up with something blog worthy to show off out of my closet.
But then with the last posting, I did the cardinal sin of the whole purpose of WIWW; I wore and posted a comfy outfit of go to favorite "sweats".
Right there on the meme leaders site it says:
" link up with me if you want to stay accountable to getting out of your sweats and putting a little effort into yourself!"
Um, yeah, I blew it. I guess I hate myself to much to put in the effort of going a whole week without a sweats day. I have banned myself from this meme. It is too much pressure to compete with the other 70 or so girls that DO take the effort... I'll keep my comfy clothes and pictures of myself, honestly, taking those pictures was a pain in the butt.
(I honestly didn't want to say butt, God should be proud; I'm working on taking my words captive...now if only my thoughts were easily held.)
I fail at this daily, hourly. I am a work in progress, and it is why I always say when my life is over and I'm sitting there talking it over with God, I long to hear him say "Well done my precious faithful daughter; You have exceeded my expectations."
If this makes you go What? Why would you want that? God already knows you...doesn't have expectations...blah blah blah.
TRUST me; it totally makes sense to me and my heart. So you imagine your words from God and I'll keep mine. Thank you.
Lets talk about expectations.
We all have them. Admit them or not, we all have them. I tend to get burned by actually believing a person would meet mine.
Rarely ever does this happen, and I like to think of myself as a common sense princess. Since I mentioned a golden rule earlier, here is another one we've hadbashed into our brains made aware of:
Treat others as you'd want to be treated.
Makes sense to me, so much so it should be common...
How about when you are at a place, say Mom and Dad's for dinner; how about you greet the people in the room?
"Hello! How are you? Nice to see you?"
Instead of grunting and acting as if you are too busy to acknowledge that someone just entered.
Or say you are at a restaurant and the wait person comes over and talks to the wall instead of you, OR instead of acknowledging said wait staff person you are to busy to catch persons name and are thinking more about that 20 oz rib eye steak you want cooked RARE...
You are at the grocery store, you have 3 items, not 3 large items and a basket full of tic tacs...3 items and the person who beat you to the express lane has more then the 10 the sign clearly says is max, and they forgot such and such so could they please call speedy Magoo in the back to bring it to aisle 2 of 30, that is only 1 of 3 open on blue hair day!
phew!
If you stayed with me on that we should get coffee sometime because I could hang with you without pulling my hair out repeating myself or as I like to call it under-sarking. (sarcasm people.)
It's like dumbing down your points because people don't understand big words.
Raise your hand if you think these people are show-offs?
((hand raised, waving in air))
Please, I have a high school education that is 20 years old. If someone came up with a common sense test, I would ACE it. Sit me down and ask me to grammer-fy my blog post and not use amazing as basically my only descriptive word...ain't gonna happen. Failed.
Math?
I have a tip cheat sheet in my purse so I don't screw somebody out of their rightful pay!
Algebra?
You can't add, multiply, divide or subtract letters and say it's math, NO, it's called SPELLING.
Well, maybe some of you can, but not me. I don't speak a foreign language and I don't like talking about Alge's Bra. Let the girl wear the wrong size, who cares as long as she's comfortable!
Which brings me to the last blog I read, that brings me to tears of hilarity. And you can tell it's a doozy
People I want to punch in the throat.
Just as you'd imagine, she lets people have it.
So what does this all have to do with me?
What does my title say about me? The description on my blog is:
A heart full of love and a mind full of sass, I'm just the interpreter.
Only I've tried so hard to be something softer then myself. I have a bite to me...and even though I'm working hard to soften that bite...it's still who I am.
Which you can kinda see in this post.
I am not a flower and candles, glass half full girl...
I am the glass is half empty and what if the clean water runs out? kinda girl.
I am the grey cloud on a partly sunny day that just can't quite get it together to blow away.
I am the remnants of the crystal light drink, that no matter how much you stir it, there is always that hint of bitter.
I'm not perfect. You will never here me say I want to be perfect, I may want perfect feet. Or perfectly blond hair that never needs coloring because it just will not turn grey...
But I never want to be perfect. I like me. Most of the time...and when I don't; then I'll just have more to talk about here. Everyone knows that if you can't find anything nice about yourself you make fun of others to feel better! That's just common sense...
((big Smiley face))
One blog is a charming upbeat, glass is half full kinda blog. The title of that blog is exactly what you'd expect to read about.
Enjoying the small things.
And she does, with gorgeous pictures, and moving sentences and an open heart.
Today she had a line in it, To thine's self be true...
A golden rule of sorts.
Hmmm.
I have a few creative sites I love visiting. Some days I'm so inspired, which is why they blog...and some days I'm reminded of the fact that while yes I can make some pretty cutesy stuff and spend hours in a craft store...most of my things are a result of someone else's creativity and I'm just doing it SaraSass style.
Pinterest is excellent at making me feel like a slacker in regards to crafting, decorating, self styling, hair dos, make-up application,witty comments you wish you said to that person the last time they said something stupid to you... wait this is a long list, is Pinterest really good for one's self esteem?
Having just reread my list, I thinking a therapy session may be in order.
I have in the past; participated in a meme known as What I wore Wednesday. It's fun, I guess, trying to come up with something blog worthy to show off out of my closet.
But then with the last posting, I did the cardinal sin of the whole purpose of WIWW; I wore and posted a comfy outfit of go to favorite "sweats".
Right there on the meme leaders site it says:
" link up with me if you want to stay accountable to getting out of your sweats and putting a little effort into yourself!"
Um, yeah, I blew it. I guess I hate myself to much to put in the effort of going a whole week without a sweats day. I have banned myself from this meme. It is too much pressure to compete with the other 70 or so girls that DO take the effort... I'll keep my comfy clothes and pictures of myself, honestly, taking those pictures was a pain in the butt.
(I honestly didn't want to say butt, God should be proud; I'm working on taking my words captive...now if only my thoughts were easily held.)
I fail at this daily, hourly. I am a work in progress, and it is why I always say when my life is over and I'm sitting there talking it over with God, I long to hear him say "Well done my precious faithful daughter; You have exceeded my expectations."
If this makes you go What? Why would you want that? God already knows you...doesn't have expectations...blah blah blah.
TRUST me; it totally makes sense to me and my heart. So you imagine your words from God and I'll keep mine. Thank you.
Lets talk about expectations.
We all have them. Admit them or not, we all have them. I tend to get burned by actually believing a person would meet mine.
Rarely ever does this happen, and I like to think of myself as a common sense princess. Since I mentioned a golden rule earlier, here is another one we've had
Treat others as you'd want to be treated.
Makes sense to me, so much so it should be common...
How about when you are at a place, say Mom and Dad's for dinner; how about you greet the people in the room?
"Hello! How are you? Nice to see you?"
Instead of grunting and acting as if you are too busy to acknowledge that someone just entered.
Or say you are at a restaurant and the wait person comes over and talks to the wall instead of you, OR instead of acknowledging said wait staff person you are to busy to catch persons name and are thinking more about that 20 oz rib eye steak you want cooked RARE...
You are at the grocery store, you have 3 items, not 3 large items and a basket full of tic tacs...3 items and the person who beat you to the express lane has more then the 10 the sign clearly says is max, and they forgot such and such so could they please call speedy Magoo in the back to bring it to aisle 2 of 30, that is only 1 of 3 open on blue hair day!
phew!
If you stayed with me on that we should get coffee sometime because I could hang with you without pulling my hair out repeating myself or as I like to call it under-sarking. (sarcasm people.)
It's like dumbing down your points because people don't understand big words.
Raise your hand if you think these people are show-offs?
((hand raised, waving in air))
Please, I have a high school education that is 20 years old. If someone came up with a common sense test, I would ACE it. Sit me down and ask me to grammer-fy my blog post and not use amazing as basically my only descriptive word...ain't gonna happen. Failed.
Math?
I have a tip cheat sheet in my purse so I don't screw somebody out of their rightful pay!
Algebra?
You can't add, multiply, divide or subtract letters and say it's math, NO, it's called SPELLING.
Well, maybe some of you can, but not me. I don't speak a foreign language and I don't like talking about Alge's Bra. Let the girl wear the wrong size, who cares as long as she's comfortable!
Which brings me to the last blog I read, that brings me to tears of hilarity. And you can tell it's a doozy
People I want to punch in the throat.
Just as you'd imagine, she lets people have it.
So what does this all have to do with me?
What does my title say about me? The description on my blog is:
A heart full of love and a mind full of sass, I'm just the interpreter.
Only I've tried so hard to be something softer then myself. I have a bite to me...and even though I'm working hard to soften that bite...it's still who I am.
Which you can kinda see in this post.
I am not a flower and candles, glass half full girl...
I am the glass is half empty and what if the clean water runs out? kinda girl.
I am the grey cloud on a partly sunny day that just can't quite get it together to blow away.
I am the remnants of the crystal light drink, that no matter how much you stir it, there is always that hint of bitter.
I'm not perfect. You will never here me say I want to be perfect, I may want perfect feet. Or perfectly blond hair that never needs coloring because it just will not turn grey...
But I never want to be perfect. I like me. Most of the time...and when I don't; then I'll just have more to talk about here. Everyone knows that if you can't find anything nice about yourself you make fun of others to feel better! That's just common sense...
((big Smiley face))
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Lets all go...to the auto show!
I have been hearing that slogan for a while now. I don't even really remember hearing it, more like it's trapped in my head and something triggers it to turn on...Argh!
Hubby scored free tickets for us, so we went. I guess if he can spend hours in Old Navy and Jo-ann Fabrics I can at least put on a cute outfit and be arm candy at a car browsing event.
Um, have you ever notice the Barbie girls talking about the cars? I mean straight off the Mattel toy store shelf.
Butter was ogling the way they would walk the stage in 6 inch heels, with perfectly coiffed hair and skinny mini skirts and there b00bs. She really dislikes it when you can see parts of them. She gets mad at J-lo and X-tina for having to show us b00bs.
"Mom! Why is she wearing that? I can see her b00bs!"
She's 9, I pray she feels the same way at 13 and all the way up till she's 50, after that I don't care, go to France, suntan topless...scare the young girls back into there tops and cover them up.
We and when I say we I am really talking about me, because I am the one that drives.
We drove down to the big city, I hate city driving and when I say city, I mean downtown city, big buildings, lots of stop and go lights, walkers e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e and the bikers. Argh. Don't they know their are paths for that, just a few miles away where the threat of being pummeled by a car does not exist?
I live in the suburbs, I like the suburbs, the only city I've been to and liked was Chicago, but that could have been because I had a maid cleaning up after me everyday.
I pride myself on all the ways I know how to avoid going into the city.
What I liked about the auto show:
Watching the people. It's almost as good people watching as the fair, but not as much food.
The shiny cars. Until you realize; a) I have kids who have bikes and hockey sticks and scooters and they all share the same space...b) the prices. Have mercy! Can't you build a village in Africa for that?!?! c)Convertibles look cool, but not if you live in Minnesota and can only afford one car and have to drive around 6 months of the year in snow in a convertible...how's that fold down roof NOW?!
There was a robot there.
He was a bit scary to me, if anything, because I've seen the Terminator movies and Transformer movies. I was just waiting to hear the master blaster turn on and I would have pushed my son to the ground and shoved us both under the Landrover I was standing by. I had my out, let the Ed Hardy guy be the first to get vaporized!
Roo how ever was fascinated and wanted me to get his picture taking with it. No, that did not happen. Did I mention he was asking me this while he was cradled at my hip in my arms?
Silly Roo, robots can and probably will kill people.
I will say this it was cool when he'd sing and dance, but not when he'd walk around startling people.
Once home we enjoyed the rest of the day outside!
Today it is suppose to be even warmer...can't wait.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Break into Spring!
They (the weather people) are talking 70 sometime this week. This is crazy talk for Minnesota, see, we all know the March Madness curse. we can't get through March without some kind of snow dumping. Oh, it's real. So when I here 70's in March...I get giddy! I love when there is a possibility of lovely weather on my birthday! What better way to celebrate then shopping for new flip flops and eating lunch outside! without bugs! (cause they haven't caught on yet that it's nice out)
Or getting something like this:
look at and smell.
Which then makes me want to make these:
To remind me of the real thing and to add a little pizazz...
If only I had a work space like this to blog in and create and sew...
Ooh la la, yes!
Look at that sun shining through the window, makes me want to go outside for a walk and smell the damp spring air that promises of budding flowers and Robins...
Mom, did you say walk? I heard you say walk mom! Are we going for a walk?
Why do you need to paint your toes for walking?
Speaking of Robins, they lay the most gorgeous colored eggs, it makes me so sad to she little broken shells on the ground...but what a beautiful color...
(My husband hates feet, any and all feet. I told him about this little person at family camp I remembered, he had no arms and did everything with his feet. Like ate, holding a fork...I was a fascinated little 5 year old. I said "What if I had no arms and had to use my feet? Would you still love me? Would you hold my foot, like in the movie theater or on a walk?" He said "I may have to go blind. and don't ask me to inter-lace fingers with your toes..." Nearly made me pee my pants.)
Then there is this one...
That is "thelook". She wants something, and she will stare at you until she gets it. What does she want?
Well, she wants to be outside, enjoying the sun...Sorry Tabitha, we renters now, there is no yard for you to safely go outside in. :0(
I better get some catnip to smooth things over. I should pick up some jello too, so I can make this:
Rainbow jello with a gold coin!
I'm breaking into Spring, I just hope April showers are kind...
all pictures have links back to sites, and are on my pinterest boards.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Canceled Trip.
I have been thinking all day how I can word this post. My mind is clouded by hurt, and I don't want to just let loose the gammit of emotions stirring in me at this point.
I am dealing with disappointment.
We should be on the rode, heading to sunny Flordia. But "circumstances beyond our control" changed our plans.
That is the nice way of saying it.
It is not really what I wanted to say, but I am minding my tongue and holding tight to restless emotions.
Disappointment is a part of life, how we deal with it, how we let it rule us or how much pow we give it is up to us.
I am locking down the stench of disappointment and instead turning to see the blessings...
Right this minute Butter is upstairs playing with a friend. Roo is riding his bike...the dog is happily napping...blessings of a canceled trip.
I am dealing with disappointment.
We should be on the rode, heading to sunny Flordia. But "circumstances beyond our control" changed our plans.
That is the nice way of saying it.
It is not really what I wanted to say, but I am minding my tongue and holding tight to restless emotions.
Disappointment is a part of life, how we deal with it, how we let it rule us or how much pow we give it is up to us.
I am locking down the stench of disappointment and instead turning to see the blessings...
Right this minute Butter is upstairs playing with a friend. Roo is riding his bike...the dog is happily napping...blessings of a canceled trip.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
GratiTuesday.
I had an interesting Sunday. We went to my sister Sherri's house for a party for my nieces' birthdays. I can't remember the last time I was at her house for a visit. If you are new here, Sherri and I are not close. We live very different lives. She has her reality and I have mine.
I do my best to stay in touch with my nieces and nephew, sometimes that can be extremely hard.
I was prompted to go. So I sucked up all my feelings and went.
Our first stop was to pick up my mom. She and I have been getting along for the most part. I try not to take things too personally and be more excepting of her "quirks".
While we were there I noticed her family tree book. She has been working on it and I am fascinated by "Where did I come from?"
It is nice to see faces the the names, and hear the names of people I hadn't heard of before.
It makes me feel "connected", like I belong somehow...
Does that make sense?
This is my Mom. I try to take a picture of her or with her whenever I see her. I want my kids to see and know these faces...who they came from...where they belong...
My relationship with my dad is not good. He walked away from our lives 5 years ago, until this past January. We ran into him. It was odd that day, for me. He is still the same person, I am different.
My life was changed, my heart has changed is changing. God is doing things in me that I don't even realize until I'm in the middle of something and it hits me. Like Sunday.
My dad and his wife showed up at the party. I had avoided going to things I knew he would be at. It was painful to see someone who walked away from you, yet still "ran in some of your circles."
I hugged him, he sat by me, asked me what I wanted for my birthday...
It starts the same, I told him what I always tell him.
Nothing.
It's not the truth, but in terms he can understand, in what he is offering to give...
there isn't anything he could buy, no amount of cash that I would want.
Instead I said "Nothing."
He got a look on his face, like I had slapped him. Refused. He can not be refused.
"Why don't we go to dinner or something." I said.
"Where?" he said cautiously. As if I'd say someplace fancy or expensive.
"I don't know." I said. He wasn't getting it.
It is not the WHERE to me, it's the TIME.
I am selfish that way, I want attention, time, quality time.
The conversation got sidelined.
It was time for him to begin bragging.
This still bothers me, how he has to be center of attention, boasting, bragging
I.I.I...Me.Me.Me
5 years.
I didn't miss this.
5 years.
There isn't a thing you'd like to ask me? Your grand kids?
5 years Howie, and this is how you want to spend this precious time.
There is admit it. The time is precious to me.
I let 5 years go by...
But I didn't miss this.
My half brother was there too, and what ends up happening is they talk about "The Camping trip from hell."
I usually sit back and observe, because I was a baby. 18 months Mom says. 4 kids, 2 adults a dog and a bird all piled into a camper on the back of a pick-up truck. (not a trailer mind you or fancy thing they have nowadays.)
I have seen the family film strips.
'Member those?
I was watching it one time and you see this baby walking around, walking walking walking towards the lake...lake Superior...not one adult, not one teenager...no one is around this baby...oh then the dog comes in and oops down goes baby. Slowly baby gets up, get her balance and toddles right toward the lake again.
Who the hell is watching the baby?!?!
Oh, yeah the person filming is, but baby now looks like an ant, so they are not close enough to be safely watching baby.
I commented yesterday "I am lucky I survived this family!" They all laughed, my brother said "Yeah, we were trying to bump you off for more room!"
I joked back "Cause a BABY takes up so much space! Maybe the bird should have been left home too!"
ha ha ha.
Laughter.
Then Howie started talking about my first time flying.
How I asked what was this white bag? (for airsickness)
and How as soon as we left the gate I grabbed the bag and when Dad asked me if I was going to be sick my 12 year old self answered "Well, Dad you never know!"
How I would ask "What's that?!?" over every sound or noise.
I had never heard him talk about me like that?
How I was even then a "think-ahead-er"
A planner.
Prepare. Prepare. Prepare.
It makes total sense to me now. I didn't just one day become this way...it was molded in me from birth. It's WHO I AM.
I asked Howie if he had started a family tree. I know he has a bible that was passed down...
When I got into bed last night I grieved.
I did not have a Dad. He is still alive and there is still time...
But it is unlikely that he will ever change.
It is not for me to have the kind of father every girl deserves.
So how content will I allow myself to be with that?
I didn't know my grandparents.
I decided my kids deserve to know theirs, even if that means they don't understand them. I will let them form their own opinions, so one day when they wonder where did I come from...they can at least know grandparents.
I am grateful that God is changing me, changing my heart to endure the pains of what I didn't have, so I can give my children something more.
I am grateful for whatever time I have with my parents, my family, those where I came from...
What are you grateful for this Tuesday?
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Debut
Yesterday was the debut of a Interpret Sass's new blog design. It isn't perfect and I'm not sure how long pink will last...I'm more blues-y. But for some reason this flower inspired me...
Ranunculus.
I love the how the color fades light and dark, it's kinda moody.
Like me, a bit.
I like how the stems bend and twist, yoga like. And I like yoga, I also like when God bends my heart in a direction I wasn't sure I'd go...
Pink is pretty.
I've never thought myself pretty...
I little make-up, a fancy outfit, a cute pair of shoes they help me feel pretty...
But I have always struggled with the For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. ~ Psalm 139.13-14
Yeah, that's not really what I see when I look in the mirror. I see a little too much "packaging" around the middle section. Some grey gray grrr...ay hairs making there early and unwanted appearance.
I see fine lines of living, and these weird skin taggy things...what is that?!
I see a wife, a mother, a lover of books and blogging...
And since blog is a "virtual" world, I thought I should have a "virtual" me.
istock is full of talented artist. I happen to find one that was the perfect fit.
I mean look at her? How cute is she?
It has been a lot of work trying to figure out HTML
I decided to stick with Blogger at least for now. I can work in Blogger, Wordpress is a struggle to me.
So where am I going with all this?
I really don't know for sure, but I do know that it's been on my heart to talk about my depression.
Nobody really talks about it.
I understand why...
God has been turning my heart in so many ways, in regards to letting my guard down.
Yesterday I talked about friendship. I have been hurt deeply in this area, walls went up, that are still up today.
I know that is not how God wants me to live, I also know it is painful and scary chipping away the bricks and mortar.
Now for the Joy Dare:
4) one gift old, new & blue
Gift: Old
The computer we got from Rob's old job, they didn't want it back.
It's where I did everything online...
Until...
Gift:
New
iPad2 came into my life. I did not know how much I would love this thing.
It is where I do everything online now. (although, blog posting is easier from the computer, the app just isn't the same.)
Gift:
Blue
I got a skin for iPad...
Now I never have to ask, "Have you seen my iPad?" when I forget where I set it. She's all decked out and purdy; can't miss it now.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
How I see it: Joy Dare
I am a voyeur when it comes to twitter, unless it comes to insta*gram, cause that asks if you want to share on twitter. I mostly follow celebs, both on TV and in blogland. You know the gals that have a gazillion readers because they suck us in with a post that makes us think she's talking directing to us. She has humor, grace, life experience she candidly shares...
This morning I was reading tweets when Gussy mentioned this post:
She talks about being a friend and gives us 4 ways to be a better friend...
I lost my bestie to jealousy. It was one of the most painful things I've ever endured. It open the door to depression, which sucked me in whole. Depression chewed me up into bite size pieces and I was left trying to put myself back together.
I didn't do it alone. I had my sweet Hubby, who was my fiance' at the time an I found Jesus. But I felt alone. Where were the women? I have been let down so many times by the women in my life.
Achingly alone.
I started going to bible study, and then a group of women came into my life and it.was.magic. Then the study ended, schedules changed and life went on. When we do get together it's wonderful. Why do we wait so long?
I have a daughter, and I don't ever want her to feel alone. I want to model good relationships for her. But the truth is women scare me. I have been hurt by them in the past. I've lost my bestie every time I've ever allowed myself to have a bestie.
I trust too easily, love to hard, care too much...I thought that was how it is suppose to be.
Family is something you "get what you get and don't throw a fit", friends are the family you get to choose...
Women can be so cruel, so callus with their words to one another. We can be so indifferent. Busy.
Really? life is so busy that you'd rather live it without a pact of wild rabid God-fearing women having your back?
Think about what stirs you. Think about what it means to YOU to have that support...now think about who you have let slip because busy is as busy does.
Just this week I had to cancel a "date". Because the weather around here was nasty. I had been looking forward to it, and when the day passed I shrugged my shoulders and gave myself an "oh well." busy is as busy does...
No. Not good enough. That date matters. That woman matters to me.
Julie, you matter. We are going to have our shamrock sh-date!
Tracy, Sarah, Wendie, Jody, Molly it has been way too long. I love you. Lets get together, hug, laugh, share...
On the link I posted earlier there was a JOY DARE (meant for January, but I just found it so I'm doing it now)
1.) 3 Things about yourself you are grateful for:
My sensitive heart, my determination, my desire to understand.
2.) A gift outside, inside, on a plate.
winter's whiteness, a comfy couch to read, a slice of watermelon so sweet it brings summer inside when all you see is winter's white...
3) 3 lines you overheard that were graces.
(Butter) My mom is my hero, because she cooks good meals for us...(school project)
(Mother-in-law) "You always put so much thought into the gifts you give." (Christmas time)
You is kind, you is smart and you is important (the Help)
That last one should be someone we women say over and over and over again to ourselves and each other!
Yes, each on of us is important.
I will continue my Joy Dare this month...it's the month I was born, and is usually the hardest month for me...Join me...I DARE you.
This morning I was reading tweets when Gussy mentioned this post:
She talks about being a friend and gives us 4 ways to be a better friend...
I lost my bestie to jealousy. It was one of the most painful things I've ever endured. It open the door to depression, which sucked me in whole. Depression chewed me up into bite size pieces and I was left trying to put myself back together.
I didn't do it alone. I had my sweet Hubby, who was my fiance' at the time an I found Jesus. But I felt alone. Where were the women? I have been let down so many times by the women in my life.
Achingly alone.
I started going to bible study, and then a group of women came into my life and it.was.magic. Then the study ended, schedules changed and life went on. When we do get together it's wonderful. Why do we wait so long?
I have a daughter, and I don't ever want her to feel alone. I want to model good relationships for her. But the truth is women scare me. I have been hurt by them in the past. I've lost my bestie every time I've ever allowed myself to have a bestie.
I trust too easily, love to hard, care too much...I thought that was how it is suppose to be.
Family is something you "get what you get and don't throw a fit", friends are the family you get to choose...
Women can be so cruel, so callus with their words to one another. We can be so indifferent. Busy.
Really? life is so busy that you'd rather live it without a pact of wild rabid God-fearing women having your back?
Think about what stirs you. Think about what it means to YOU to have that support...now think about who you have let slip because busy is as busy does.
Just this week I had to cancel a "date". Because the weather around here was nasty. I had been looking forward to it, and when the day passed I shrugged my shoulders and gave myself an "oh well." busy is as busy does...
No. Not good enough. That date matters. That woman matters to me.
Julie, you matter. We are going to have our shamrock sh-date!
Tracy, Sarah, Wendie, Jody, Molly it has been way too long. I love you. Lets get together, hug, laugh, share...
On the link I posted earlier there was a JOY DARE (meant for January, but I just found it so I'm doing it now)
1.) 3 Things about yourself you are grateful for:
My sensitive heart, my determination, my desire to understand.
2.) A gift outside, inside, on a plate.
winter's whiteness, a comfy couch to read, a slice of watermelon so sweet it brings summer inside when all you see is winter's white...
3) 3 lines you overheard that were graces.
(Butter) My mom is my hero, because she cooks good meals for us...(school project)
(Mother-in-law) "You always put so much thought into the gifts you give." (Christmas time)
You is kind, you is smart and you is important (the Help)
That last one should be someone we women say over and over and over again to ourselves and each other!
Yes, each on of us is important.
I will continue my Joy Dare this month...it's the month I was born, and is usually the hardest month for me...Join me...I DARE you.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
What I Wore Wednesday
I haven't been blogging much writing much. I am teaching myself design things, trying to navigate through the HTML.
I got into this Meme.
Mostly to hold myself accountable for how much time I spend in "comfy" pants aka velour track suits.
Don't judge me, at least I wasn't walking around town or Walmart in pajama bottoms and slippers!
I found a pair of cords in my closet that I hadn't wore all (cough) winter.
In Minnesota winter starts
in October and ends in June. This year however we haven't seen much snow or below 0 days.
We've averaging 30s. CRAZY, in this part of the world anyway.
I paired them with my *new* favorite scarf and a pretty flower pin I can wear as a pin or in my hair...
And my ipad got a pretty *new* look...do you like it?
Here is a better look at my scarf...paired with a different top.
I wore my "ugly" shoes with my cords...these are my Haflingers. They are the most comfortable
shoes on the planet.
Arch support, width for those of us with chubby feet or in my case bunions.
(thank you genetics)
Oh, did I mention they are flat?!
LOVE them
.
I watched this cutie-patootie and learned how to do this...
The Double bun. It took me a few tries, which I find funny since the goal is for a "messy" bun, but in
order for it to look cute messy instead of lazy twist and ponytail...Cute huh?
I'm not going to lie, today I am sitting here in my pjs. we had our first big snowfall of the winter, and it's only fair I get to have a snow day where I drink obscene amounts of coffee, curl up by the fireplace and read a good book or a few good blogs...and NO HTML today!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Stuffed up.
Winter is usually my favorite season. It gets cold here, so cold people wonder why on earth someone would choose to live in Minnesota.
I love the snow. It's beautiful white stillness...
We have had very little snow this year, I've been looking at brown grass for the past 3 months. YUCK.
It is also the time in which I get relief from my allergies. Or I should.
It hasn't been cold enough to kill off a majority of the junk.
But the one thing I dislike very much about winter; Colds/flu.
I have been battling with a cold for a week now, it is driving me crazy. The stuffed up kind of crazy!
I love how the only things that give you relief are either not allowed with the other medication you are on OR you can't use longer then 3 days.
Annoying.
So I've been being a very bad girl. Every time I take something I'll say to Rob: "I took...you know, in case I go unconscious and you need to tell them what drugs I've taken."
I am weird like that, I do my best to follow directions, labels and warnings, but If I need to sleep and the only way to get it is a good dose of NyQuil, I am going to take the NyQuil and Goodnight Irene.
The Afrin I've beensnorting using, says not to use more then 3 days.
What?!?
In what realm of reality does a cold last 3 days?
We are told no antibiotics because we could/are/did create a super bug...
A 3 day cold...that's funny. I want that cold.
I've done all I can do; ginger ale, Zycam, gone outside, stayed inside, gotten sleep, gotten no sleep, chicken souped myself so much if I see one more Campbells label I will chuck it out the window!
I am tired of being stuffed up. (and no I haven't been to the doctor because the crud isn't the proper color to reward going to the doctor and having to listen to him say "It's a cold. Rest and plenty of liquids."
I've been enjoying books and TV shows.
Here's a list:
New Girl~ I love this quirky show...so much
Castle~ ooh crime solving romance
Survivor~ Jeff Probst is hot, love the plotting.
Wipeout~ whoever came up with big balls, thank you.
Glee~ singing duh.
Smash~ theater gossip and singing.
American Idol~ Divas and singing.
The Voice~ Adam.Levine, Blake.Sheldon and wait for it, singing.
PamAm~thought about being a stewardess once, I didn't meet the height requirements.
Revenge~G.u.i.l.t.y p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e.
Books:
Kill Shot~ By Vince Flynn
yummy tough guy Mitch Rapp saves us all from bad bad men...
The Maid of Fairborne Hall~ another MN author Julie Klassen
19th century romance about a girl who flees to escape a scheme to marry her off only to end up a maid to stay in hiding...think Jane Austen~ish.
Decision Points~ Former President G.W Bush
Like him or hate him, it was insightful reading his memoirs, might even read Clinton's now...
If you didn't now and have an iPhone or iPad
There is a little thing called Insta*gram You can follow me on there now too
Another place to find me: Pinterest.
LOVE. Pinterest. Even got my hubby on it, though he still doesn't have any boards yet...
I love the snow. It's beautiful white stillness...
We have had very little snow this year, I've been looking at brown grass for the past 3 months. YUCK.
It is also the time in which I get relief from my allergies. Or I should.
It hasn't been cold enough to kill off a majority of the junk.
But the one thing I dislike very much about winter; Colds/flu.
I have been battling with a cold for a week now, it is driving me crazy. The stuffed up kind of crazy!
I love how the only things that give you relief are either not allowed with the other medication you are on OR you can't use longer then 3 days.
Annoying.
So I've been being a very bad girl. Every time I take something I'll say to Rob: "I took...you know, in case I go unconscious and you need to tell them what drugs I've taken."
I am weird like that, I do my best to follow directions, labels and warnings, but If I need to sleep and the only way to get it is a good dose of NyQuil, I am going to take the NyQuil and Goodnight Irene.
The Afrin I've been
What?!?
In what realm of reality does a cold last 3 days?
We are told no antibiotics because we could/are/did create a super bug...
A 3 day cold...that's funny. I want that cold.
I've done all I can do; ginger ale, Zycam, gone outside, stayed inside, gotten sleep, gotten no sleep, chicken souped myself so much if I see one more Campbells label I will chuck it out the window!
I am tired of being stuffed up. (and no I haven't been to the doctor because the crud isn't the proper color to reward going to the doctor and having to listen to him say "It's a cold. Rest and plenty of liquids."
I've been enjoying books and TV shows.
Here's a list:
New Girl~ I love this quirky show...so much
Castle~ ooh crime solving romance
Survivor~ Jeff Probst is hot, love the plotting.
Wipeout~ whoever came up with big balls, thank you.
Glee~ singing duh.
Smash~ theater gossip and singing.
American Idol~ Divas and singing.
The Voice~ Adam.Levine, Blake.Sheldon and wait for it, singing.
PamAm~thought about being a stewardess once, I didn't meet the height requirements.
Revenge~G.u.i.l.t.y p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e.
Books:
Kill Shot~ By Vince Flynn
yummy tough guy Mitch Rapp saves us all from bad bad men...
The Maid of Fairborne Hall~ another MN author Julie Klassen
19th century romance about a girl who flees to escape a scheme to marry her off only to end up a maid to stay in hiding...think Jane Austen~ish.
Decision Points~ Former President G.W Bush
Like him or hate him, it was insightful reading his memoirs, might even read Clinton's now...
If you didn't now and have an iPhone or iPad
There is a little thing called Insta*gram You can follow me on there now too
Another place to find me: Pinterest.
LOVE. Pinterest. Even got my hubby on it, though he still doesn't have any boards yet...
I took this pic on my ipad, and for whatever reason it won't let me have a normal size, so it's blurry and I took the picture at night, right before I got into my jammies. I'll try to remember earlier.
Dress~ Target clearance
Cardigan~ Target clearance
Leggings~ Walmart they have big girl sizes :0)
Belt~Vanity
Boots~ JCPenny
Happy Wednesday.
Monday, February 13, 2012
What's dirt got to do with it?
I was turned onto a blog called "People I want to punch in the throat".
Jen is hilariously out spoken about things. A couple of days ago she let her husband write on her blog. His post 10 reasons to love me.
And by love me, he means give him loving, not, why he should be admired.
Too funny. Right up until he got to the point that he suggested the new technology in brazillains.
Today she posted a reply. She did not go light on him.
Where am I going with this?
Besides giving a big blog shout-out, it got me thinking.
Through the years God has mellowed me, the sass factor has been toned down. I like it that way, honestly.
Blogging has taken on so many themes. Some write to inform, some write to teach, some write to share experience, some write to encourage, some write mean things about people.
As I work my way through blog design, questions keep coming up: What is the theme of your blog? What is your niche? What do you want people to take away from your blog?
Since my depression back in 2000, And my becoming a follower of Jesus; all I've ever wanted to was live a good honest life. I wanted to become the person God meant for me to be, I wanted to live by example. Not as a goodie two shoe-holier then thou, but a flawed women open to correction and growth by her heavenly Father.
A woman who openly talks about her struggles, speaks the truth and encourages others.
I've found that this is very hard to do "in real life".
People don't want to talk about "stuff". They definitely don't want to hear truth.
I mentioned to a friend that I felt like our relationship had waned into non-existence.
To which she took great offence, telling me that A) this was coming out of no-where B) her life was crazy hectic and C) she was going through medical things.
I totally get that life can get busy, my point was I had no idea what was going on in her life because we hadn't made time for each other. (Notice I put blame on both of us.)
When a person chooses to take on the world alone, it can become an overwhelming place.
I am often time told I'm too sensitive.
My feeling is that people aren't sensitive enough.
Nowadays people can say whatever they wish on Facebook, or a text or twitter and never look that person in the eye, never have to be convicted of those harsh words or attitude.
Maybe they don't have to face the person, but God sees them. He also knows what is causing the underlining pain that is making the person lash out.
It is up to the person to experience God's grace.
I am learning and growing everyday.
What that means for me is: Dealing with self doubt and worthlessness. Seeing myself the way God sees me; not "the world".
Hearing a family member question my worth by "what I bring to the table" is painful, I also know that it is the enemy trying to use that family member to wound me, to pull me away from God's redemption.
A person focused on hurting is not focusing on dealing with their own hurt and unforgiveness. The enemy loves when they walk in the muck and dirty themselves up.
Being forgiving doesn't mean being a door mat for other's to wipe their dirty off on you.
I will no longer be a door mat, but I will tell you if I notice that your shoes are dirty.
If you get my drift.
That's as sassy as I'm gonna get today.
Jen is hilariously out spoken about things. A couple of days ago she let her husband write on her blog. His post 10 reasons to love me.
And by love me, he means give him loving, not, why he should be admired.
Too funny. Right up until he got to the point that he suggested the new technology in brazillains.
Today she posted a reply. She did not go light on him.
Where am I going with this?
Besides giving a big blog shout-out, it got me thinking.
Through the years God has mellowed me, the sass factor has been toned down. I like it that way, honestly.
Blogging has taken on so many themes. Some write to inform, some write to teach, some write to share experience, some write to encourage, some write mean things about people.
As I work my way through blog design, questions keep coming up: What is the theme of your blog? What is your niche? What do you want people to take away from your blog?
Since my depression back in 2000, And my becoming a follower of Jesus; all I've ever wanted to was live a good honest life. I wanted to become the person God meant for me to be, I wanted to live by example. Not as a goodie two shoe-holier then thou, but a flawed women open to correction and growth by her heavenly Father.
A woman who openly talks about her struggles, speaks the truth and encourages others.
I've found that this is very hard to do "in real life".
People don't want to talk about "stuff". They definitely don't want to hear truth.
I mentioned to a friend that I felt like our relationship had waned into non-existence.
To which she took great offence, telling me that A) this was coming out of no-where B) her life was crazy hectic and C) she was going through medical things.
I totally get that life can get busy, my point was I had no idea what was going on in her life because we hadn't made time for each other. (Notice I put blame on both of us.)
When a person chooses to take on the world alone, it can become an overwhelming place.
I am often time told I'm too sensitive.
My feeling is that people aren't sensitive enough.
Nowadays people can say whatever they wish on Facebook, or a text or twitter and never look that person in the eye, never have to be convicted of those harsh words or attitude.
Maybe they don't have to face the person, but God sees them. He also knows what is causing the underlining pain that is making the person lash out.
It is up to the person to experience God's grace.
I am learning and growing everyday.
What that means for me is: Dealing with self doubt and worthlessness. Seeing myself the way God sees me; not "the world".
Hearing a family member question my worth by "what I bring to the table" is painful, I also know that it is the enemy trying to use that family member to wound me, to pull me away from God's redemption.
A person focused on hurting is not focusing on dealing with their own hurt and unforgiveness. The enemy loves when they walk in the muck and dirty themselves up.
Being forgiving doesn't mean being a door mat for other's to wipe their dirty off on you.
I will no longer be a door mat, but I will tell you if I notice that your shoes are dirty.
If you get my drift.
That's as sassy as I'm gonna get today.
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