Exhausted
Collapsing down the storm damaged wall
Into a crumpled heap
50 feet below
The precipice of my heart
Watching my tears erode my cheekbones
Like ancient rivers
Cutting into the canyons that are my soul
I observe my breath
In and out in and out in and out
In deep wailing staccato bursts
I dream of the Cape and sand mountains
That you and I climbed with golden
Slivers shining on us
As summer turned to fall and the waves
Began to crash with a churning burning
Ferocity
When you pledged eternity amongst the sea grass
Time did not stop
And here I sit, heaving
Grieving
Alone
Women of God can never be like women of the world. The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity. Margaret D. Nadauld
Showing posts with label 3 word wednesday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 3 word wednesday. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 08, 2014
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Mercy
Over the last few years, I have gone from primarily a stay at home wife and then mother, to working full time, to working full time plus a part time plus job to both of those and teaching yoga and cooking classes as well as all the volunteer work I always did. Add to it dealing with health issues, recovering from not just one but two abdominal surgeries, and post hysterectomy hormonal problems, I am not healed physically yet. Emotionally, I am still wrapping my head around a failed adoption attempt that no matter how brutal life with her was, it was still my heart being ripped out of my chest. I still have a house to maintain, a child to raise and the other day to day things that being a wife and mother entail that envelop me. Right now I am at maximum saturation levels beyond compare.
I am not whining, I am stating how it is.
In the past, I had some fall back measures, but I no longer have that strong a support system. The events of the past six months have given me clarity beyond measure with whom I can count on and who truly is there for me. The rug was pulled out from under me, and I no longer able to just pick myself up and dust myself off. I am bruised and bloody from all the battles I am fighting. I feel forsaken and alone, and my soul aches. I cry out from my own personal wilderness:
Like it is written in Psalm 84
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
I feel like my cries are falling on deaf ears.
Its like that scene in the Godfather, just when I think I am out, they pull me back in…in my case, it’s the darkness that seems to surround me. When I need a tender, warm embrace I get the cold shoulder both literally and figuratively. There is nothing worse that putting a hand up for help and having it smacked away. Right now, it feels the little progress I’ve made in some areas is not enough and quite frankly, I currently don’t have anymore to give.
But that’s just temporary.
I know, as it is in Psalm 147:
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Right now, I am the brokenhearted. I have given the enemy a toe hold in my life, which has allowed my belief system-usually a continuum straight from me to Him-to kink and knot. I am broken, bleeding and hurting beyond measure. It seems as if I haven’t done anything right in my life, because there are a few nay sayers, that I have let be the loudest in the chorus. I am fundamentally a good person, despite my flaws which proves again and again that I am human. I am an awesome mother and my son and I share a special bond. He loves to cuddle with me still, and despite the difficulties each morning and each bedtime brings, we still love through it all. I try my best at keeping house, and try to cook great meals and do all the things that were effortless when I was at home most of the time, and for the most part I am successful. I have to remember those successes when the dark demons attempt to take hold. I know in my heart I have given my best, and quite frankly that is all I have to give.
I am not whining, I am stating how it is.
In the past, I had some fall back measures, but I no longer have that strong a support system. The events of the past six months have given me clarity beyond measure with whom I can count on and who truly is there for me. The rug was pulled out from under me, and I no longer able to just pick myself up and dust myself off. I am bruised and bloody from all the battles I am fighting. I feel forsaken and alone, and my soul aches. I cry out from my own personal wilderness:
Like it is written in Psalm 84
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
I feel like my cries are falling on deaf ears.
Its like that scene in the Godfather, just when I think I am out, they pull me back in…in my case, it’s the darkness that seems to surround me. When I need a tender, warm embrace I get the cold shoulder both literally and figuratively. There is nothing worse that putting a hand up for help and having it smacked away. Right now, it feels the little progress I’ve made in some areas is not enough and quite frankly, I currently don’t have anymore to give.
But that’s just temporary.
I know, as it is in Psalm 147:
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Right now, I am the brokenhearted. I have given the enemy a toe hold in my life, which has allowed my belief system-usually a continuum straight from me to Him-to kink and knot. I am broken, bleeding and hurting beyond measure. It seems as if I haven’t done anything right in my life, because there are a few nay sayers, that I have let be the loudest in the chorus. I am fundamentally a good person, despite my flaws which proves again and again that I am human. I am an awesome mother and my son and I share a special bond. He loves to cuddle with me still, and despite the difficulties each morning and each bedtime brings, we still love through it all. I try my best at keeping house, and try to cook great meals and do all the things that were effortless when I was at home most of the time, and for the most part I am successful. I have to remember those successes when the dark demons attempt to take hold. I know in my heart I have given my best, and quite frankly that is all I have to give.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Far Behind
Spring has sprung.
This past winter was quite mild by northern plains standards, but the whole it's spring concept makes me positively giddy!
One thing that I love almost as much as fall foliage is the renewal in march and April. This year, I'd love to go up to Great Bear or Palisades State Park with the family and just wander.
I love hiking. Despite almost 30 years of it, I'm still definitely an amateur. I like to compare it to a walk in the woods.
A slow stroll on a well planned path.
I really want to share my love of the outdoors and the exhilarating feelings I get with my family. The joy I get from being in the woods, surrounded by nature is astounding. I remember years ago, coming to a clearing out of the woods and seeing a herd of deer. It was mesmerizing.
That is what I want to nurture in my son.
He has been exposed to nature education since he's been in my life. We are very fortunate to have the Outdoor Campus (http://gfp.sd.gov/outdoor%2Dlearning/outdoor%2Dcampus/) here. Little Man started with the sprouts program in preschool and has continued to today. He has learned about animals, habitats and more. Thanks to them, we snow shoe, cross country ski, kayak and ice fish.
When I need my hiking fix, I take to their trails with the puppy dog. We have logged many miles through the woods and prairie. For the most part, it is peaceful with just natural distractions for the puppy (every so often, another dog may dare to visit our trails).
I have been deliberate and diligent in introducing my son to the great outdoors. I want him to appreciate nature as much as I do, and to conserve it as a result. There is a spiritual component as well. A clearing in a forest can be equivalent to a soaring cathedral. A waterfall is a conversation with G-d. Sunlight streaming through the trees is like a hug from the Creator.
When I hike, it's a moving meditation. A silent prayer. The rest of the world is far behind.
This past winter was quite mild by northern plains standards, but the whole it's spring concept makes me positively giddy!
One thing that I love almost as much as fall foliage is the renewal in march and April. This year, I'd love to go up to Great Bear or Palisades State Park with the family and just wander.
I love hiking. Despite almost 30 years of it, I'm still definitely an amateur. I like to compare it to a walk in the woods.
A slow stroll on a well planned path.
I really want to share my love of the outdoors and the exhilarating feelings I get with my family. The joy I get from being in the woods, surrounded by nature is astounding. I remember years ago, coming to a clearing out of the woods and seeing a herd of deer. It was mesmerizing.
That is what I want to nurture in my son.
He has been exposed to nature education since he's been in my life. We are very fortunate to have the Outdoor Campus (http://gfp.sd.gov/outdoor%2Dlearning/outdoor%2Dcampus/) here. Little Man started with the sprouts program in preschool and has continued to today. He has learned about animals, habitats and more. Thanks to them, we snow shoe, cross country ski, kayak and ice fish.
When I need my hiking fix, I take to their trails with the puppy dog. We have logged many miles through the woods and prairie. For the most part, it is peaceful with just natural distractions for the puppy (every so often, another dog may dare to visit our trails).
I have been deliberate and diligent in introducing my son to the great outdoors. I want him to appreciate nature as much as I do, and to conserve it as a result. There is a spiritual component as well. A clearing in a forest can be equivalent to a soaring cathedral. A waterfall is a conversation with G-d. Sunlight streaming through the trees is like a hug from the Creator.
When I hike, it's a moving meditation. A silent prayer. The rest of the world is far behind.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Clash City Rockers
I discovered the Clash when I was about my son's age, thanks to London Calling. From the opening track of London Calling, to the hidden Train in Vain it is one of the best, most consistently brilliant albums ever.
My love affair with Strummer & Co continues to this day. After London Calling, I was compelled to listen to more and find out more about the most important band in the world.
This was in the days before the internet so I hunted down fanzines. I was not disappointed by the previous or subsequent efforts.
To this day, certain songs by the Clash provide me with a jolt of energy or a power surge when I'm working out. Pressure Drop (yes it's a cover but it beats the Specials version hands down ) forces me through an extra few minutes on the treadmill.
Death or Glory from London Calling is another song that keeps me going. I start my runs usually with the Magnificent Seven off Sandanista! The irony is, the album Combat Rock brought them to the mainstream and it's my least favorite.
In their songs, the bands referenced historical events, politics and various types of music. My natural curiosity led me to learn more about what they sang about (to me that made them different from other bands of that-or any-era). I may not have always agreed with their political leanings, but I'm grateful for having heard both sides of the story. Just as you can't detach religion from U2, it's the same with politics and the Clash.
As a preteen, I read both Marx & Nietzsche because they were name checked in a song. I became well versed in the conflict over oil (a never ending issue) that Rock the Casbah was really about. If you want to know what band raised my political awareness first, it was the Clash. They made me, as a kid, take an interest in it, care and know I could make a difference. All these years later I'm still rocking out to the band and acting as an agitator and instigator.
The other constant: my Clash t shirt. It still hangs proudly in my closet. I wear it from time to time, which isn't bad for a shirt that's 30 years old. It's a little threadbare, but has weathered time well. It saw a lot of shows in Salt Lake City, Sunday matinees at CBGB's and later at City Gardens and the Troc in Philly. My sister wore it proudly and now my it will be available for my son to show off his excellent taste in music. He loves LMFAO & Lady GaGa but he also loves the Clash, Replacements & Weezer. I'm teaching him well!
And it all began with one song...
My love affair with Strummer & Co continues to this day. After London Calling, I was compelled to listen to more and find out more about the most important band in the world.
This was in the days before the internet so I hunted down fanzines. I was not disappointed by the previous or subsequent efforts.
To this day, certain songs by the Clash provide me with a jolt of energy or a power surge when I'm working out. Pressure Drop (yes it's a cover but it beats the Specials version hands down ) forces me through an extra few minutes on the treadmill.
Death or Glory from London Calling is another song that keeps me going. I start my runs usually with the Magnificent Seven off Sandanista! The irony is, the album Combat Rock brought them to the mainstream and it's my least favorite.
In their songs, the bands referenced historical events, politics and various types of music. My natural curiosity led me to learn more about what they sang about (to me that made them different from other bands of that-or any-era). I may not have always agreed with their political leanings, but I'm grateful for having heard both sides of the story. Just as you can't detach religion from U2, it's the same with politics and the Clash.
As a preteen, I read both Marx & Nietzsche because they were name checked in a song. I became well versed in the conflict over oil (a never ending issue) that Rock the Casbah was really about. If you want to know what band raised my political awareness first, it was the Clash. They made me, as a kid, take an interest in it, care and know I could make a difference. All these years later I'm still rocking out to the band and acting as an agitator and instigator.
The other constant: my Clash t shirt. It still hangs proudly in my closet. I wear it from time to time, which isn't bad for a shirt that's 30 years old. It's a little threadbare, but has weathered time well. It saw a lot of shows in Salt Lake City, Sunday matinees at CBGB's and later at City Gardens and the Troc in Philly. My sister wore it proudly and now my it will be available for my son to show off his excellent taste in music. He loves LMFAO & Lady GaGa but he also loves the Clash, Replacements & Weezer. I'm teaching him well!
And it all began with one song...
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Don't You Forget About Me
Don’t You Forget Me
Knock, knock.
Is this thing on?
Hello? Hello?
Is anyone there?
Oh, hi. It’s me-your healthy self. Do you remember me? We used to be really great friends, once upon a time. We did a lot together-run on the treadmill, lift weights, practice kickboxing, danced, did pilates…good times all. I miss that special time we spent together.
I think kickboxing was a lot of fun. You huffed and puffed your way through, but were ultimately successful. I began to look forward to Mondays after work because you were ready to “punch, punch, jab, kick”! Tuesday evenings were belly dancing, and oh man did you get your groove on! Those shimmies and shakes and the waterfall-you were working it girl! Thursday nights were ballet conditioning-going back to your dancer roots, which helped increase your flexibility and posture. On Fridays, that Latin dance groove and Zumba helped increase your endurance and cardio levels PLUS were a lot of fun. You got back to your old club kid ways and had a blast.
The challenge of running a 5k was something you were up for. You trained really hard for it, and met that challenge. However, you stopped running one morning because you were tired and then, well let’s just say life happened. I know I miss you feeling the endorphins-that runner’s high-that let you feel strong, confident and powerful all day long, no matter what. Then there was you actually taking a break during the day and walking, either outside or in your office building. You started lifting weights and began building up strength. It was getting easier to carry in the groceries, your back pain began to subside and your clothes looked great on you. You began to have all sorts of definition-dare I say, getting cut?-and your posture improved greatly. On top of it all, you were doing Pilates, which lengthened your muscles and helped you stand taller. Your gait became more graceful, and your twirled like a ballerina again, instead of lumbering along. I really miss you going to Saturday morning yoga, because you were able to stretch out that body and get all Zen.
Speaking of Zen…your spiritual life has really fallen apart hasn’t it? I mean, I know you have sporadic moments of spending time in prayer, but overall, you don’t seem to be consistent with it anymore. Your prayer journal is blank. You seem to collapse into sleep every night, and not count your blessings as you drift off. You don’t meditate anymore, and how you carry yourself shows that. Its obvious that you are not cleansing your mind and spirit everyday. You have stuck chakras, and that is causing distruption on so many different levels. Not only that, your relationship with G-d has fallen by the wayside.
I miss you drinking water, especially when you added lemon and mint to it. It kept you hydrated, and you had more energy. No more aches and pains, you felt younger than you had in years. I think you miss feeling that way too.You stopped putting unnatural foods and drinks in your body, and it reflected all over you. Every single molecule looked and felt better.
You also started to take better care of yourself overall. It was fun going with you when you got a mani and pedi, and when you got that rocking hair cut-oh man, good times! The outfits you put together played up your assets and you just looked really, really good. You also got enough rest every night, and practiced self care, with giving yourself spa time at home and out as well. You went out with friends and read books. You enjoyed life. You weren’t living in that self inflicted bubble of unhealthy choices.
What I really miss most is you eating fresh, nutritious food. I miss the fruits and vegetables you consumed by the bushel. I loved how you incorporated them into every meal, and made sure that most of what you ate was healthy and nutritious. I miss spending the time reading labels and recipes to make sure your whole family ate well. I learned to love high fiber foods, because that would help counteract your family’s history of cholesterol and triglyceride problems. Oatmeal became a breakfast of choice, especially after you started to add fresh ground peanut butter, fruit and soy milk to it. You made so many really healthy choices. You didn’t even have to cut back on calories-you were losing weight because you were feeding your body what it needed, not junk. The cravings for junk food disappeared, and you actually began to crave healthy stuff. Wasabi pea trail mix became your go to snack. You ate so much salad, you used to joke that you had it at every meal and snack. You made smoothies for a quick breakfast. The transition to almost vegan was smooth, and it you wore it well. Your skin glowed, your hair was thicker and shinier, and those bags under your eyes disappeared. You weren’t a wreck, and it showed. You were glowing.
So, what do you say…can we make plans to get together again? You know where to find me.
Knock, knock.
Is this thing on?
Hello? Hello?
Is anyone there?
Oh, hi. It’s me-your healthy self. Do you remember me? We used to be really great friends, once upon a time. We did a lot together-run on the treadmill, lift weights, practice kickboxing, danced, did pilates…good times all. I miss that special time we spent together.
I think kickboxing was a lot of fun. You huffed and puffed your way through, but were ultimately successful. I began to look forward to Mondays after work because you were ready to “punch, punch, jab, kick”! Tuesday evenings were belly dancing, and oh man did you get your groove on! Those shimmies and shakes and the waterfall-you were working it girl! Thursday nights were ballet conditioning-going back to your dancer roots, which helped increase your flexibility and posture. On Fridays, that Latin dance groove and Zumba helped increase your endurance and cardio levels PLUS were a lot of fun. You got back to your old club kid ways and had a blast.
The challenge of running a 5k was something you were up for. You trained really hard for it, and met that challenge. However, you stopped running one morning because you were tired and then, well let’s just say life happened. I know I miss you feeling the endorphins-that runner’s high-that let you feel strong, confident and powerful all day long, no matter what. Then there was you actually taking a break during the day and walking, either outside or in your office building. You started lifting weights and began building up strength. It was getting easier to carry in the groceries, your back pain began to subside and your clothes looked great on you. You began to have all sorts of definition-dare I say, getting cut?-and your posture improved greatly. On top of it all, you were doing Pilates, which lengthened your muscles and helped you stand taller. Your gait became more graceful, and your twirled like a ballerina again, instead of lumbering along. I really miss you going to Saturday morning yoga, because you were able to stretch out that body and get all Zen.
Speaking of Zen…your spiritual life has really fallen apart hasn’t it? I mean, I know you have sporadic moments of spending time in prayer, but overall, you don’t seem to be consistent with it anymore. Your prayer journal is blank. You seem to collapse into sleep every night, and not count your blessings as you drift off. You don’t meditate anymore, and how you carry yourself shows that. Its obvious that you are not cleansing your mind and spirit everyday. You have stuck chakras, and that is causing distruption on so many different levels. Not only that, your relationship with G-d has fallen by the wayside.
I miss you drinking water, especially when you added lemon and mint to it. It kept you hydrated, and you had more energy. No more aches and pains, you felt younger than you had in years. I think you miss feeling that way too.You stopped putting unnatural foods and drinks in your body, and it reflected all over you. Every single molecule looked and felt better.
You also started to take better care of yourself overall. It was fun going with you when you got a mani and pedi, and when you got that rocking hair cut-oh man, good times! The outfits you put together played up your assets and you just looked really, really good. You also got enough rest every night, and practiced self care, with giving yourself spa time at home and out as well. You went out with friends and read books. You enjoyed life. You weren’t living in that self inflicted bubble of unhealthy choices.
What I really miss most is you eating fresh, nutritious food. I miss the fruits and vegetables you consumed by the bushel. I loved how you incorporated them into every meal, and made sure that most of what you ate was healthy and nutritious. I miss spending the time reading labels and recipes to make sure your whole family ate well. I learned to love high fiber foods, because that would help counteract your family’s history of cholesterol and triglyceride problems. Oatmeal became a breakfast of choice, especially after you started to add fresh ground peanut butter, fruit and soy milk to it. You made so many really healthy choices. You didn’t even have to cut back on calories-you were losing weight because you were feeding your body what it needed, not junk. The cravings for junk food disappeared, and you actually began to crave healthy stuff. Wasabi pea trail mix became your go to snack. You ate so much salad, you used to joke that you had it at every meal and snack. You made smoothies for a quick breakfast. The transition to almost vegan was smooth, and it you wore it well. Your skin glowed, your hair was thicker and shinier, and those bags under your eyes disappeared. You weren’t a wreck, and it showed. You were glowing.
So, what do you say…can we make plans to get together again? You know where to find me.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Bang on
Keeping your head on straight this time of year can be a challenge, to say the least. There are presents to be bought & wrapped; houses to decorate, cookies to bake, carols to sing and so on. And, as women we need to do it all with a smile.
I made a conscious decision this season to say no. I am not stressing about things like I have in the past. I am not caught up in the whole buy-buy-buy compulsion. My body is healing still. My heart is still heavy. My soul aches for all the turmoil I have been through. I am grieving, not just an actual loss, but the loss of a dream. It is hitting me now, as the proximity of the holidays draws near. I hurt, not just physical pain but an empty void that is there that I refuse to stuff with distractions.
I made the choice this year that I am not going to go all Martha Stewart crazy with the holidays. I still tire easily, and my endurance is not there. My disorganization level has doubled if not more, coupled with the fact that I was immobile following surgery for a few weeks.
I refused to over indulge this season and have instead made the choice to limit meat and dairy in my life. I feel better and not as sluggish. I am slowly adding yoga back in. I am walking more, and working on building up my endurance. I am taking care of myself, body and soul. I can ill afford retribution from my body for taking it for granted, as I have for far too long.
Healing both inside and out, especially during the holidays is a daunting task. I have realized that I have allowed other things to distract me from some of the pain and grief I have felt for a long time. I overindulged my son because I felt guilty he was an only child. I did things because I was supposed to: baked when I didn’t feel like baking, decorated over the top because that’s what you did, went all out on a Christmas letter. One year, I wound up going to about thirty different stores looking for the “perfect” gift for someone, only to receive something that had no thought put into it at all. That was when I knew it was around the bend. I was using the trappings of the season without looking at the beauty surrounding me. None of that matters if you forget what the real purpose of the season is.
For the last several years, I have been consciously working on following my bliss; to make myself and my needs a priority. I have slowly excised things and people from my life who do not support that vision. Life is too short, and my cancer scare last year proved it to me.
Yes, I will bake this year, but some gingerbread cookies so my son can decorate them. Maybe pizzelles, because my husband likes those. My chocolate peanut butter blisses because those are my favorite. Other than that, sorry I am not doing any others. Maybe I will mail cards, maybe I won’t. I’m on the fence right now, and not sure if I really want to invest all that time in it. We are having a simple Christmas dinner. I am not stressing out about anything.
Instead, I value my time, sitting by the Christmas tree, watching the lights twinkling, drinking my hot cocoa. I am enjoying creating memories with my son. I am liking the fact that I am healing, both inside and out. Most of all, I like the fact that I am reconnecting with what truly matters this season.
I made a conscious decision this season to say no. I am not stressing about things like I have in the past. I am not caught up in the whole buy-buy-buy compulsion. My body is healing still. My heart is still heavy. My soul aches for all the turmoil I have been through. I am grieving, not just an actual loss, but the loss of a dream. It is hitting me now, as the proximity of the holidays draws near. I hurt, not just physical pain but an empty void that is there that I refuse to stuff with distractions.
I made the choice this year that I am not going to go all Martha Stewart crazy with the holidays. I still tire easily, and my endurance is not there. My disorganization level has doubled if not more, coupled with the fact that I was immobile following surgery for a few weeks.
I refused to over indulge this season and have instead made the choice to limit meat and dairy in my life. I feel better and not as sluggish. I am slowly adding yoga back in. I am walking more, and working on building up my endurance. I am taking care of myself, body and soul. I can ill afford retribution from my body for taking it for granted, as I have for far too long.
Healing both inside and out, especially during the holidays is a daunting task. I have realized that I have allowed other things to distract me from some of the pain and grief I have felt for a long time. I overindulged my son because I felt guilty he was an only child. I did things because I was supposed to: baked when I didn’t feel like baking, decorated over the top because that’s what you did, went all out on a Christmas letter. One year, I wound up going to about thirty different stores looking for the “perfect” gift for someone, only to receive something that had no thought put into it at all. That was when I knew it was around the bend. I was using the trappings of the season without looking at the beauty surrounding me. None of that matters if you forget what the real purpose of the season is.
For the last several years, I have been consciously working on following my bliss; to make myself and my needs a priority. I have slowly excised things and people from my life who do not support that vision. Life is too short, and my cancer scare last year proved it to me.
Yes, I will bake this year, but some gingerbread cookies so my son can decorate them. Maybe pizzelles, because my husband likes those. My chocolate peanut butter blisses because those are my favorite. Other than that, sorry I am not doing any others. Maybe I will mail cards, maybe I won’t. I’m on the fence right now, and not sure if I really want to invest all that time in it. We are having a simple Christmas dinner. I am not stressing out about anything.
Instead, I value my time, sitting by the Christmas tree, watching the lights twinkling, drinking my hot cocoa. I am enjoying creating memories with my son. I am liking the fact that I am healing, both inside and out. Most of all, I like the fact that I am reconnecting with what truly matters this season.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Stuck in a moment that I can't get out of
Im in a rut right now, and I'm so caught up in the moment I can't quite see a way out. To make matters worse, it's not of my own doing and I have no real control over this particular set of circumstances.
Im at an incredibly vulnerable point in my life, and to be quite honest, I hate being in this position. I know in my heart and soul that I have done all that I can and given 110%. In fact, we all have made incredible sacrifices with very few expectations in return.
When you are in the middle of the whirlwind, you are in survival mode: just the basics you need to live can be met. Due to that, right now I am less inclined to exercise or eat right. I am struggling with my closet, because there are few things that make me feel pretty right now. I've re-started my passion for fashion feature, and looking at the pictures of me, I'm frankly stunned.
I live with myself 24/7 so I'm not always cognoscent of changes. Seeing it in glorious color I look tired, haggard, drawn. My hair is frizzing because im overdue for a haircut. I've got bags under my eyes that Kate spade envies. The stress is showing. It's not a figment of my imagination...I look like crud.
And others have told me that as well.
Gee. Thanks.
In the last few months I've seen myself be incredibly distracted, more tired and less apt to practice self care.
Since im in the middle of the muddle right now, I don't quite know which end is up. However, I do know that from past experience, this too shall pass. I will come out of it a changed woman. I am hoping that it makes me better, stronger, more caring. And that will make it all worthwhile.
Im at an incredibly vulnerable point in my life, and to be quite honest, I hate being in this position. I know in my heart and soul that I have done all that I can and given 110%. In fact, we all have made incredible sacrifices with very few expectations in return.
When you are in the middle of the whirlwind, you are in survival mode: just the basics you need to live can be met. Due to that, right now I am less inclined to exercise or eat right. I am struggling with my closet, because there are few things that make me feel pretty right now. I've re-started my passion for fashion feature, and looking at the pictures of me, I'm frankly stunned.
I live with myself 24/7 so I'm not always cognoscent of changes. Seeing it in glorious color I look tired, haggard, drawn. My hair is frizzing because im overdue for a haircut. I've got bags under my eyes that Kate spade envies. The stress is showing. It's not a figment of my imagination...I look like crud.
And others have told me that as well.
Gee. Thanks.
In the last few months I've seen myself be incredibly distracted, more tired and less apt to practice self care.
Since im in the middle of the muddle right now, I don't quite know which end is up. However, I do know that from past experience, this too shall pass. I will come out of it a changed woman. I am hoping that it makes me better, stronger, more caring. And that will make it all worthwhile.
Monday, October 03, 2011
mountain song
Once upon a time, i decided i wanted to climb a mountain. I had a dream that i wanted to make a reality.
To start, I tried bouldering. It's a natural origination point. It's a short climb, and you have to see your route (or problem) before you attempt it. You are not that high off the ground, so you can focus on the climb itself. It's perfect to learn technique. The first place I went bouldering was at Blair Woods in southern NH. It was autumn, the trees were ablaze, and a few folks I knew from debate and the newspaper were going. I got talked into it....by the end of the afternoon, I was hooked.
Bouldering is one thing, with a giant mattress to break your fall if the rock should choose to eject you; climbing Kilamanjaro is something all together different.
I used to go rock climbing when I was in college in New Hampshire. I always used to joke with my friends that they were baby mountains and it was good practice.
I was so serious about it I had my own shoes and chalk bag.
There is something instinctive about climbing. Primal. I never attempted a solo climb, and was always dependent on others, but that's ok. You literally are one with the surface you are climbing.
Rock climbing is a combination of visual processing and vertical ballet. The visual processing part is determining where you are going to backstep or toe hold or what kind of hand grip you are going to use. Not being focused could have a negative impact: you could slip, fall, break a limb, render yourself unconscious or worse-dead. Climbing was the first time I "got it" about meditation. I was able to truly empty my mind and have a laser like focus.
I have climbed Canyon Cliff, which is home to the Old Man in the Mountain, Toe Crack and Thin Air and of course, my favorite, Deirdre (I would say, sure I climbed myself!)
As time marched on, I moved back to NJ and my friends there were not into as many outdoors pursuits, so I lost surface interest. I still had the desire, but no one to go with. Instead of really pursuing it, I stuffed it down inside, and once in a while the urge resurfaces. Once I met the Big Man, it pretty much was over for us climbing together-nature boy he is not! He doesn't have that same innate connection to the great outdoors that I do. There's nothing wrong with it, but I would love to have the kids enjoy it as much as I do, and be outdoors as a family.
I've tried over the last several years to climb on an indoor rock wall, but quite frankly, I'm too big right now to pull myself up. I couldn't hang on nor was I was able to get a good toe hold. My current size prevents me from doing things, like climbing, I enjoy. I don't pursue things that will help me get in shape because I feel guilty about taking me time (also I have a hard time working out in front of the family). So it's a vicious cycle.
The princess used to rock climb. In fact there used to be a great indoor rock climbing place in Lawrenceville, NJ she & her friends went to in high school. I don't know if she pursued it to the great outdoors, but she and the little man would race each other on the wall at the Washington Pavillion.
Currently? I take the pictures.
One day...
To start, I tried bouldering. It's a natural origination point. It's a short climb, and you have to see your route (or problem) before you attempt it. You are not that high off the ground, so you can focus on the climb itself. It's perfect to learn technique. The first place I went bouldering was at Blair Woods in southern NH. It was autumn, the trees were ablaze, and a few folks I knew from debate and the newspaper were going. I got talked into it....by the end of the afternoon, I was hooked.
Bouldering is one thing, with a giant mattress to break your fall if the rock should choose to eject you; climbing Kilamanjaro is something all together different.
I used to go rock climbing when I was in college in New Hampshire. I always used to joke with my friends that they were baby mountains and it was good practice.
I was so serious about it I had my own shoes and chalk bag.
There is something instinctive about climbing. Primal. I never attempted a solo climb, and was always dependent on others, but that's ok. You literally are one with the surface you are climbing.
Rock climbing is a combination of visual processing and vertical ballet. The visual processing part is determining where you are going to backstep or toe hold or what kind of hand grip you are going to use. Not being focused could have a negative impact: you could slip, fall, break a limb, render yourself unconscious or worse-dead. Climbing was the first time I "got it" about meditation. I was able to truly empty my mind and have a laser like focus.
I have climbed Canyon Cliff, which is home to the Old Man in the Mountain, Toe Crack and Thin Air and of course, my favorite, Deirdre (I would say, sure I climbed myself!)
As time marched on, I moved back to NJ and my friends there were not into as many outdoors pursuits, so I lost surface interest. I still had the desire, but no one to go with. Instead of really pursuing it, I stuffed it down inside, and once in a while the urge resurfaces. Once I met the Big Man, it pretty much was over for us climbing together-nature boy he is not! He doesn't have that same innate connection to the great outdoors that I do. There's nothing wrong with it, but I would love to have the kids enjoy it as much as I do, and be outdoors as a family.
I've tried over the last several years to climb on an indoor rock wall, but quite frankly, I'm too big right now to pull myself up. I couldn't hang on nor was I was able to get a good toe hold. My current size prevents me from doing things, like climbing, I enjoy. I don't pursue things that will help me get in shape because I feel guilty about taking me time (also I have a hard time working out in front of the family). So it's a vicious cycle.
The princess used to rock climb. In fact there used to be a great indoor rock climbing place in Lawrenceville, NJ she & her friends went to in high school. I don't know if she pursued it to the great outdoors, but she and the little man would race each other on the wall at the Washington Pavillion.
Currently? I take the pictures.
One day...
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I'm on fire
Trying to live healthy is hard. I struggle on a daily basis with making good choices. I struggle with exercising. My main motivation are my kids because I can't be an effective parent if I'm not healthy and happy.
Right now, a lot of days I am drained and exhausted from putting out fires every day. I am just spent. Despite my best efforts to recharge my batteries, I just cant.
The rest and restoration I desperately need just isn't there. I feel like I'm constantly walking on egg shells trying to keep the delicate balance in my home and life. There is that gnawing pit in my stomach with waves of nausea that something is going to go wrong.
When you adopt a child, especially one who's been in foster care, there is no guarantee that things will be perfect. No guarantee that you will mesh together as a family. You don't get that with a biological family either, but there are fewer variables.
It's only recently that I stopped worrying about the little man constantly. I no longer hold my breath when the phone rings, wondering if he had a bad day or not.
Everyday I find another fire to be put out. Sometimes it's a raging inferno, other times it's just a smoldering pile. I'm not trained as a firefighter.
Somedays I don't know what I'm doing. Heck, it's most days...
I cherish the time with my family, but there are some days I need a break too.
I just need a day to recharge and relax. A day for me, to just be...and put out my own fires.
Right now, a lot of days I am drained and exhausted from putting out fires every day. I am just spent. Despite my best efforts to recharge my batteries, I just cant.
The rest and restoration I desperately need just isn't there. I feel like I'm constantly walking on egg shells trying to keep the delicate balance in my home and life. There is that gnawing pit in my stomach with waves of nausea that something is going to go wrong.
When you adopt a child, especially one who's been in foster care, there is no guarantee that things will be perfect. No guarantee that you will mesh together as a family. You don't get that with a biological family either, but there are fewer variables.
It's only recently that I stopped worrying about the little man constantly. I no longer hold my breath when the phone rings, wondering if he had a bad day or not.
Everyday I find another fire to be put out. Sometimes it's a raging inferno, other times it's just a smoldering pile. I'm not trained as a firefighter.
Somedays I don't know what I'm doing. Heck, it's most days...
I cherish the time with my family, but there are some days I need a break too.
I just need a day to recharge and relax. A day for me, to just be...and put out my own fires.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
That's Life
My favorite time of day to run is early morning, just after dawn, especially this time of year, when the air is cool and crisp when it hits your lungs. Once upon a time, I was a dedicated runner with my favorite routes to run.
I used to love to run along Carnegie Lake in Princeton and pretend I was in a race with the crew teams practicing on the lake. I'd run along One Mile Road, which I lived off of in Cranbury. It was a bit of yawn to run it, because it was a flat, boring run which was exactly 1 mile from 571 till it ended on Old Trenton Rd. In other words, it was dull.
Running was my sanity when I was a caregiver to my grandmother. It was my escape and kept the stress away. I knew the end game was after my grandmother died, I would have to go back to the real world. I was taking ministry classes, not sure what I wanted to do or where to go in life.
I was lost, confused and not sure what I wanted to do in life.
I knew that more than anything else I wanted to be a wife and mother. I wanted a kitchen to create magic in. Definitely a cat, maybe a dog too.
Possibly driving a Volvo station wagon, because that was the princetonian equivalent to a mini van.
I wanted to decorate a house that would be worthy of home & garden.
I'd grow flowers and vegetables and have a glorious garden.
All of these dreams were formulated on these runs.
Sometimes dreams come true. Sometimes it's be careful what you wish for. Sometimes it's a little bit of both. But that's life.
I used to love to run along Carnegie Lake in Princeton and pretend I was in a race with the crew teams practicing on the lake. I'd run along One Mile Road, which I lived off of in Cranbury. It was a bit of yawn to run it, because it was a flat, boring run which was exactly 1 mile from 571 till it ended on Old Trenton Rd. In other words, it was dull.
Running was my sanity when I was a caregiver to my grandmother. It was my escape and kept the stress away. I knew the end game was after my grandmother died, I would have to go back to the real world. I was taking ministry classes, not sure what I wanted to do or where to go in life.
I was lost, confused and not sure what I wanted to do in life.
I knew that more than anything else I wanted to be a wife and mother. I wanted a kitchen to create magic in. Definitely a cat, maybe a dog too.
Possibly driving a Volvo station wagon, because that was the princetonian equivalent to a mini van.
I wanted to decorate a house that would be worthy of home & garden.
I'd grow flowers and vegetables and have a glorious garden.
All of these dreams were formulated on these runs.
Sometimes dreams come true. Sometimes it's be careful what you wish for. Sometimes it's a little bit of both. But that's life.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Rock Me Amadeus
One of my fondest memories growing up was going to the Young People’s Concerts at Lincoln Center. I would go with my aunt and it was a very special outing. I would wear a party dress, and we would go to lunch and then afterwards, usually a trip to FAO Schwartz and Serendipity. It was a little girl’s dream come true day in New York City.
There was something magical about wearing a party dress. I had one in particular that I loved more than the others (and I had quite the collection). It was a white dress, with pink rosettes. There was a tulle crinoline underneath, and I felt like a ballerina when I wore it. I would pretend I was Giselle or the white swan in Swan Lake, twirling and whirling and pirouetting through life with ease. I wanted to wear the dress all the time, because it made me feel like a princess. If I could, I would have worn a teeny, tiny tiara with it, because my trips to New York made me feel like a princess.
I loved going to Lincoln Center. There was something magical about it, and I learned to appreciate opera, ballet and the symphony at a young age. I have a confession to make, with some pieces of classical music, I can see a movie in my head of the music. Debussy and Vivaldi make me think of pastoral lands, like the fields of Provence or the gardens at Giverny (and a Monet painting coming to life). Mozart immediately makes me think of the movie Amadeus, with Tom Hulce conducting. I go backward in time with mental ease to the Hapsburg court, with its pageantry.
When I was older, I began to volunteer with the different arts organizations to allow me to continue to attend performances, even if I couldn’t afford the ticket prices. As a teenager, I volunteered at the Utah Symphony, Utah Opera and Ballet West and was able to attend every performance I wanted to-as well as learn the back office operations. I got to listen to rehearsals, watched warm ups and saw backstage areas that were normally off limits. Plus, I got to attend meet and greets generally reserved for the big donors. This has continued into adulthood, and I am thrilled to be passing this love of culture and the arts onto the next generation in my family.
There was something magical about wearing a party dress. I had one in particular that I loved more than the others (and I had quite the collection). It was a white dress, with pink rosettes. There was a tulle crinoline underneath, and I felt like a ballerina when I wore it. I would pretend I was Giselle or the white swan in Swan Lake, twirling and whirling and pirouetting through life with ease. I wanted to wear the dress all the time, because it made me feel like a princess. If I could, I would have worn a teeny, tiny tiara with it, because my trips to New York made me feel like a princess.
I loved going to Lincoln Center. There was something magical about it, and I learned to appreciate opera, ballet and the symphony at a young age. I have a confession to make, with some pieces of classical music, I can see a movie in my head of the music. Debussy and Vivaldi make me think of pastoral lands, like the fields of Provence or the gardens at Giverny (and a Monet painting coming to life). Mozart immediately makes me think of the movie Amadeus, with Tom Hulce conducting. I go backward in time with mental ease to the Hapsburg court, with its pageantry.
When I was older, I began to volunteer with the different arts organizations to allow me to continue to attend performances, even if I couldn’t afford the ticket prices. As a teenager, I volunteered at the Utah Symphony, Utah Opera and Ballet West and was able to attend every performance I wanted to-as well as learn the back office operations. I got to listen to rehearsals, watched warm ups and saw backstage areas that were normally off limits. Plus, I got to attend meet and greets generally reserved for the big donors. This has continued into adulthood, and I am thrilled to be passing this love of culture and the arts onto the next generation in my family.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
bad love
Exhausted
Collapsing down the storm damaged wall
Into a crumpled heap
50 feet below
The precipice of my heart
Watching my tears erode my cheekbones
Like ancient rivers
Cutting into the canyons that are my soul
I observe my breath
In and out in and out in and out
In deep wailing staccato bursts
I dream of the Cape and sand mountains
That you and I climbed with golden
Slivers shining on us
As summer turned to fall and the waves
Began to crash with a churning burning
Ferocity
When you pledged eternity amongst the sea grass
Time did not stop
And here I sit, heaving
Grieving
Alone
Collapsing down the storm damaged wall
Into a crumpled heap
50 feet below
The precipice of my heart
Watching my tears erode my cheekbones
Like ancient rivers
Cutting into the canyons that are my soul
I observe my breath
In and out in and out in and out
In deep wailing staccato bursts
I dream of the Cape and sand mountains
That you and I climbed with golden
Slivers shining on us
As summer turned to fall and the waves
Began to crash with a churning burning
Ferocity
When you pledged eternity amongst the sea grass
Time did not stop
And here I sit, heaving
Grieving
Alone
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Daughter
At the beginning of August, our little family of 3 became a family of four with the addition of our now daughter. I'm not going to lie, there's been a lot to adapt (and adopt) to. For one thing, I am now the mother of a teenage girl, which in itself has challenges. To say that she has baggage would be an understatement. Everyone does, its all in the type you carry.
I have to be careful and not project onto her things that are super important to me. Yes, I would love for her to be a cheerleader and be super popular and all those wonderful high school experiences. I think back to my experiences then, and the impact it has had on my life as an adult. For one thing, I am still friends with a select group from high school, all these years later. I have chosen who I want in my life still and despite not having seen each other in some cases for more than 20 years, there is a level of comfort that we have.
I was an extra curricular queen. I did it all from sports to clubs to volunteer work to student council. I had the ability to try on different hats and personas to see what fit.
Teenage queen isn't sure what she wants to do yet. I glided easily through life as the golden child. Due to circumstances beyond her control, its been more of climbing the side of a mountain. She isn't sure she wants to do anything at all in school. There are issues about where she truly is academically, socially, whatever. I, as mom, want her to do it all like I did. I want her to shine brightly, because I know she can.
Today is the first day of school, and its up to her to make or break her high school experience. I have emphasized to her how important school is-that if she doesn't take it seriously she won't get into a good college, etc. (no pressure there!) But, just for today, I want her to get through the first day of high school.
I have to be careful and not project onto her things that are super important to me. Yes, I would love for her to be a cheerleader and be super popular and all those wonderful high school experiences. I think back to my experiences then, and the impact it has had on my life as an adult. For one thing, I am still friends with a select group from high school, all these years later. I have chosen who I want in my life still and despite not having seen each other in some cases for more than 20 years, there is a level of comfort that we have.
I was an extra curricular queen. I did it all from sports to clubs to volunteer work to student council. I had the ability to try on different hats and personas to see what fit.
Teenage queen isn't sure what she wants to do yet. I glided easily through life as the golden child. Due to circumstances beyond her control, its been more of climbing the side of a mountain. She isn't sure she wants to do anything at all in school. There are issues about where she truly is academically, socially, whatever. I, as mom, want her to do it all like I did. I want her to shine brightly, because I know she can.
Today is the first day of school, and its up to her to make or break her high school experience. I have emphasized to her how important school is-that if she doesn't take it seriously she won't get into a good college, etc. (no pressure there!) But, just for today, I want her to get through the first day of high school.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Animal
Teenage Queen has decided she wants to be a vegetarian. This now means that both my children have chosen, of their own accord, a meat free lifestyle. It also means that my husband is the only full time carnivore in our family. I should be doing a happy dance about this, but the flip side is I have now become a short order cook. No one wants the same thing every night for dinner, so it is frustrating.
However, this too shall pass and I hope to get everyone on board with dinners, especially with school starting next week.
Regular blog readers will know that I have been an avid yogi for 25 years plus, which means I was a little bit older than the teen queen when I started praticing. I think that it has allowed me to be more focused, more disciplined. It also has allowed me to be more aware. Little Man started his practice with a bath towel on the floor when he was 4, watching the Good Night Show on Sprout. Teenage Queen isn't quite sure about the whole yoga thing yet. There is a lot of anger there still, and she isn't really able to process the rage.
Its horrible the long and winding road that brought you to our door (thank you Lennon/McCartney) but you are here now, I keep reassuring her.
In the meantime, I have my own issues that I need to process. I have things to deal with from my own past, most notably food issues unresolved, that need to be resolved sooner than later.
Practicing yoga-and in turn, wanting to eat better for myself and the environment-has led me to this point in my life where I really like good for me food. If you must know, I am a latte swilling, Coach bag wearing, NPR listening, Pomegranate Market (our local equivilent to Whole Foods, check them out here) shopping, East Bank Yoga dork. I love shopping downtown, kayaking and hiking. I belly dance, kick box and run. I want my kids to love the same things. I am a total girlie girl, and I love wearing nice clothes and make up and nail polish. I love getting my hair done.
The issue is when that side of me stops. I stop being me and once again, try to be someone else, which I truly am not good at. I will not, and truly could not, be someone else. I don't expect that of either one of my kids.
So, now its back to the food issues and setting a good example. I really am tired of not being healthy and looking good now. I am (gasp) 41 now, and if I am not healthy then everything else falls apart. I know that I need to exercise daily. I need that cardio and yoga and weights. I need to eat healthy. I also need to avoid people who don't support that in my life. A few months ago, I was down to the smallest I have been in years.
I was about 20 pounds from my goal weight in May. I needed to firm up muscles and all, but I was THERE. Then, I just stopped one day and started eating junk again. I stopped really exercising, and the weight came back.
So, now I need to work doubly hard to get back to where I was PRE OP.
I do know I can tame this animal.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
The Killing Moon
One of the concerts that was truly memorable were Echo & the Bunnymen. At the time, I was going through what could be considered by today's standards, an early goth/emo period. I was into deep, dark, depressing music. I spent a lot of time in Memory Grove,
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wandering, and writing really bad poetry. I wore a lot of black, and was pale, pasty white. I even had dyed my hair a two tone of blonde & black, which apparently completely set my parents off and I learned all about quality hair stripper that evening.
It was about this time that I saw Echo & the Bunnymen in concert. Once again, I remember the circumstances around the concert, but not the actual concert itself. Weird, but true.
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I also discovered blood red lipstick about this time, so it was quite jarring-pale skin, black clothes that hid the jiggle and bright lips. I really worked the goth chick look
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and I was totally into the whole mopey poetry thing. My other favorite band at the time was Bauhaus so that says a lot.
Billy Bragg was the opening act,
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and all I remember 25+ years later is he sang off key.
The only Echo song I still listen to is The Killing Moon, which burns up my ipod as much as it burned up mix tapes back in the 80's. There's something about that song that I still enjoy after all these years
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wandering, and writing really bad poetry. I wore a lot of black, and was pale, pasty white. I even had dyed my hair a two tone of blonde & black, which apparently completely set my parents off and I learned all about quality hair stripper that evening.
It was about this time that I saw Echo & the Bunnymen in concert. Once again, I remember the circumstances around the concert, but not the actual concert itself. Weird, but true.
I also discovered blood red lipstick about this time, so it was quite jarring-pale skin, black clothes that hid the jiggle and bright lips. I really worked the goth chick look
and I was totally into the whole mopey poetry thing. My other favorite band at the time was Bauhaus so that says a lot.
Billy Bragg was the opening act,
The only Echo song I still listen to is The Killing Moon, which burns up my ipod as much as it burned up mix tapes back in the 80's. There's something about that song that I still enjoy after all these years
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Roller Coaster of Love
JI've been on a bit of a roller coaster lately, and while there have been a lot of ups and downs, I am (mostly) enjoying the ride.
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To get it out of the way, I will start with the downsides:
I stopped working out for a while.
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I just didn't feel like it. So, I didn't. I decided junk tasted a lot better than good stuff, even though it really didn't. So I ate junk, and paid the price.
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I have the option of being healthy, and that is the one that makes me feel better.
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There were a lot of things I stopped doing because I didn't feel like it.
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I basically had an adult sized hissy fit.
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Now I am over it, and able to move on. I am back to eating healthy, and exercising. Sometimes you just need to have a good, old-fashioned melt down to move on.
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Many of the balls that I am currently juggling are up in the air, and its up to the fates to intervene.
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Right now, lots of inertia and indecision.
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My son has been recovering from a tonsilectomy that really took a lot out of him. He's on the mend right now, but it was a tough couple of weeks. I didn't want him to be in pain or feel miserable, but he did and I was powerless over it.
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On a positive note, I have been incredibly creative, with new tutorials coming! I haven't had this much inspiration in a long time.
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I rediscovered how much I like working out and eating healthy.
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I have created some great new healthy recipes too.
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My garden is blooming.
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I have tomatoes,
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peppers
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and salsa ingredients blossoming.
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Little Man mastered a new skill in gymnastics.
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He did sparklers on the 4th of July for the first time.
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We went to a water park, and instead of just hanging out on the deck chairs, I actually did stuff.
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Saw a few gorgeous sunsets
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Jazzfest is this weekend
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To get it out of the way, I will start with the downsides:
I stopped working out for a while.
I just didn't feel like it. So, I didn't. I decided junk tasted a lot better than good stuff, even though it really didn't. So I ate junk, and paid the price.
I have the option of being healthy, and that is the one that makes me feel better.
There were a lot of things I stopped doing because I didn't feel like it.
I basically had an adult sized hissy fit.
Now I am over it, and able to move on. I am back to eating healthy, and exercising. Sometimes you just need to have a good, old-fashioned melt down to move on.
Many of the balls that I am currently juggling are up in the air, and its up to the fates to intervene.
I have created some great new healthy recipes too.
My garden is blooming.
I have tomatoes,
peppers
and salsa ingredients blossoming.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Unforgiven
I do not make it a habit to respond to other people’s blog posts on my own blog, but today that habit ceases.
At Lisa Adams’ blog, she discusses a woman who did not tell her children she had cancer. Or a double mastectomy. Or underwent chemotherapy.
Wow.
How can you keep a secret like that and still earn the trust of your children? They rely on us to tell the truth about their lives, their family, themselves. By lying to them about cancer, no matter how well intentioned, can bring about a whole host of nasty consequences.
In my own life, I have a tale of two families that faced a grim cancer diagnosis. One was my own family, the other some neighbors. Both my stepfather and the mother of this family were diagnosed with inoperable cancers within a few months of each other. At the time, their youngest children were both 4. My dad had colon cancer that had already mestatized by the time of diagnosis; it was the same kind of colon cancer that Katie Couric’s husband had-they were both the same age and battling it at the same time-and died within weeks of each other. The other mom, Sandy, had an inoperable brain tumor that slowly robbed her of function and cognition.
My parents made a definitive choice: they were going to be open and upfront about the cancer and not hide anything from the Princess. She deserved the truth, and despite how bad it was, she deserved to make the most of the precious little time she had left with her dad.
Sandy and her family hid her disease from her children. She went out of town for treatment. They never saw her change from the chemo-the bloat, the baldness, the sickness from it all. It was all well intentioned, but the fact that they didn’t think the kids should stay in the kitchen and deal with the heat, undermined in my opinion, their family. I really didn’t know them outside of the fact that they were my parents’ neighbors, and that the Princess and this other little boy were the same age and went to the same school. I don’t know much about how the family coped with the disease and what lead to what I think is the ultimate betrayal by a parent.
They never got to say good bye to their mother.
As time has marched on, I don’t know what happened to those kids. I only hope that they have grown up and become loving, caring adults. I hope that they have forgiven their parents for their decisions and that they have reconciled themselves to their childhood.
At Lisa Adams’ blog, she discusses a woman who did not tell her children she had cancer. Or a double mastectomy. Or underwent chemotherapy.
Wow.
How can you keep a secret like that and still earn the trust of your children? They rely on us to tell the truth about their lives, their family, themselves. By lying to them about cancer, no matter how well intentioned, can bring about a whole host of nasty consequences.
In my own life, I have a tale of two families that faced a grim cancer diagnosis. One was my own family, the other some neighbors. Both my stepfather and the mother of this family were diagnosed with inoperable cancers within a few months of each other. At the time, their youngest children were both 4. My dad had colon cancer that had already mestatized by the time of diagnosis; it was the same kind of colon cancer that Katie Couric’s husband had-they were both the same age and battling it at the same time-and died within weeks of each other. The other mom, Sandy, had an inoperable brain tumor that slowly robbed her of function and cognition.
My parents made a definitive choice: they were going to be open and upfront about the cancer and not hide anything from the Princess. She deserved the truth, and despite how bad it was, she deserved to make the most of the precious little time she had left with her dad.
Sandy and her family hid her disease from her children. She went out of town for treatment. They never saw her change from the chemo-the bloat, the baldness, the sickness from it all. It was all well intentioned, but the fact that they didn’t think the kids should stay in the kitchen and deal with the heat, undermined in my opinion, their family. I really didn’t know them outside of the fact that they were my parents’ neighbors, and that the Princess and this other little boy were the same age and went to the same school. I don’t know much about how the family coped with the disease and what lead to what I think is the ultimate betrayal by a parent.
They never got to say good bye to their mother.
As time has marched on, I don’t know what happened to those kids. I only hope that they have grown up and become loving, caring adults. I hope that they have forgiven their parents for their decisions and that they have reconciled themselves to their childhood.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Rain King, redux
Its Wednesday. The week up until this point has been quite the bust. Storms have been barreling through all week, and the atmosphere has been ripe and heavy.
Its dark and gloomy.
I am swamped at my job.
My hair is continuing to frizz
Rainy weather means I can't walk outside at work.
My house is a little bit disorganized right now.
My prayer life is quite a mess right now.
I need to clean out my guest room by this weekend.
I am just BEAT.
A week from today the little man is having surgery. Its just a tonsillectomy, but its still surgery and my anxiety level is ramping up.
I need to rest and recharge my batteries.
All of this stress is making me gag, much like a cat with a hair ball.
All it takes is a few changes to my routine and plans, and the apple cart is upset. My menu plan for the week was changed, and as a result, I am feeling like I am drowning.
I have had a lot of stiffness and tightness in my hips and lower back, which is scaring me. I don't want to wind up crippled by arthritis. The problem is, it hurts for me to move right now, and the more it hurts. The more it hurts, the less I want to move, and so it goes.
My blog traffic has dropped off significantly. Its making me wonder, am I doing something wrong? Have the last two weeks worth of posts not been good?
I have been told by several people that no one really wants to hear about my kid, all the time. Ouch.
I have omitted what is working right in my life
I have spent time with my family.
We had a picnic
I made an upcycled t shirt bag like this.
I made a yo yo necklace and am writing a tutorial.
Its dark and gloomy.
I am swamped at my job.
My hair is continuing to frizz
Rainy weather means I can't walk outside at work.
My house is a little bit disorganized right now.
My prayer life is quite a mess right now.
I need to clean out my guest room by this weekend.
I am just BEAT.
A week from today the little man is having surgery. Its just a tonsillectomy, but its still surgery and my anxiety level is ramping up.
I need to rest and recharge my batteries.
All of this stress is making me gag, much like a cat with a hair ball.
All it takes is a few changes to my routine and plans, and the apple cart is upset. My menu plan for the week was changed, and as a result, I am feeling like I am drowning.
I have had a lot of stiffness and tightness in my hips and lower back, which is scaring me. I don't want to wind up crippled by arthritis. The problem is, it hurts for me to move right now, and the more it hurts. The more it hurts, the less I want to move, and so it goes.
My blog traffic has dropped off significantly. Its making me wonder, am I doing something wrong? Have the last two weeks worth of posts not been good?
I have been told by several people that no one really wants to hear about my kid, all the time. Ouch.
I have omitted what is working right in my life
I have spent time with my family.
We had a picnic
I made an upcycled t shirt bag like this.
I made a yo yo necklace and am writing a tutorial.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
how you live
Its yet another Wednesday in my world, and I am not very happy about it at all. I do not like Wednesdays as much as others do not like Mondays.
Its a struggle of a day for me, sometimes hanging by a thread, and while I try to perk things up, its very hard. I think the weather has a lot to do with it.
I feel like I am living in Seattle, with all the rain and gloomy weather we have had lately.
There always the good, the bad and the ugly.
Starting with the bad, I have fallen into a lazy pattern again. I am not working out like I was, and I can feel it. I do my morning yoga practice, but not much else. I admit I have been spending way too much time on the computer,
and not enough time on the treadmill. I also have not been overly holly homemaker as I should, just because I have, ahem, been enjoying being lazy.
The ugly? Negative thought patterns. I have recognized when I start falling into the grip of them and I am trying to reverse it. I know a lot of people that I can not avoid who are just completely down on the world, and it shows.
The problem is when you are absorbing like a sponge all this gunk from the people around you.
Its unfortunate that some people just see the world as dark, and will never see the light. While I am not able to completely avoid these folks, which is what I would prefer, I can limit my contact.
The good?? There is a lot of greatness in my life. My son has conquered a fear in gymnastics.
He has stopped being afraid to try something new and is trusting his coach more.
I was able to go deeper into triangle pose in yoga class.
I've had good hair days despite the humidity.
I am in love with the bathing suit I used to hate, before I shifted perspective on it.
It helps since we spend so much time at the pool lately.
I've been able to connect on a deeper level with my son, who has just blossomed in the last few weeks. He is growing up way too fast it seems.
I've also reconnected with a group of friends that I had lost touch with over the years.
This little project of mine has been taking off lately, with positive results. Thank you!
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| google images, garfield is always funny |
Its a struggle of a day for me, sometimes hanging by a thread, and while I try to perk things up, its very hard. I think the weather has a lot to do with it.
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| from a friend of mine, not sure where they got it |
There always the good, the bad and the ugly.
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| thank you imdb |
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| didn't know teddy bears could surf! |
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| from an email I got the other day |
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| smithsonian.com |
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| I have this printed out & hanging in my office. such truth! |
Its unfortunate that some people just see the world as dark, and will never see the light. While I am not able to completely avoid these folks, which is what I would prefer, I can limit my contact.
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| http://www.zazzle.com/ I love this shirt! |
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| parallel bars |
He has stopped being afraid to try something new and is trusting his coach more.
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| learning to do a front handspring |
I am in love with the bathing suit I used to hate, before I shifted perspective on it.
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| http://www.shabbyapple.com/ aren't these ADORABLE??? |
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| drake springs, my favorite pool |
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