Friday, December 30...last work day of the year and one more regular day before we say goodbye to this year for good. Whew........
For as fast as this year has flown by, there have been moments of time ticking by painfully slow. When I started the year, I made a resolution to 'feel' something because I felt so detached from everything and emotionally numb. I wasn't sure what that journey would entail, but at the time it was what I wanted most in my life. Now that the year is past I can honestly say that I succeeded, but as is life...with the joys come the sorrows and I felt both.
I'd like to think that somehow I mistakenly chosen the wrong 'personal goal' and somehow fate had determined mine should have been 'change,' but I believe now that change in an unhappy (but necessary) requirement when it comes to breaking out of the emotional box I had been protecting myself with. Change, oddly enough, was the consistent part of my life over the last 12 months as I experienced loss of a friend, hope that things would be different better, fear that somehow they were very stagnate instead, sadness as I realized I had taken so much for granted with my daily habits, frustration because I could not change the world around me, overwhelmed, lost, lonely....
Yes, I realize the list above lacks words like joy and happiness and I did feel those too, but for every high the low was exceptionally low. The funny thing about this year is that no matter what, I never doubted that I would get through each moment. The belief that it was temporary and it would pass kind of drove me through the various emotions. So I sit here today and contemplate what do I hope/want/desire/wish for next year and I realize that this year was much more than I ever imagined. It taught me faith. Faith in myself (which I am still working on) and faith in others around me.
I don't know what 2012 has in store for me (and part of that is frightening,) but I'm going to make a point of embracing the possibilities that lie ahead. Both good and bad are an unfortunate part of life that allow us to break barriers and become more than we are today. So I am going to continue down the path of self rediscovery and allow myself to be open....
DQ is a smart little girl, sometimes I think she is too smart for her own good (definitely smart enough to keep me on my toes). She is the product of a relationship long ago since over and her bio-father isn't really in the picture. She's always known about him, the little I would tell her but she's never had any real interaction with him, no actual interaction at all aside from a phone call or two that stopped a long time ago. I say all this, not to paint the man in a bad light, but to merely set the premise for the conversation that ensues...
DQ: I am the only one with a different last name (upon hearing me refer to us as the 'Kel' family) Me: Not true, I have both your last name AND daddy's last name. DQ: but why am I different? Me: Well, mommy married daddy so she took his last name and Little Miss and Jr were daddy's children so they got his last name and you, you're special you got mommies last name because she wasn't married to daddy when you were born. If you want daddies last name, we can do that.DQ: Yeah, I want to be just like the family. Me: Ok, but that means that Mr. 'Donor' is no longer apart of it, you would only have 1 daddy. DQ: oh, well then never mind, I don't want to give up Mr. Donor. ME: Why? DQ: Because Mr. Donor gave me a doll (which is now buried amongst her other gazillion stuffed animals) Me: Hum, but daddy gave you a bike, what about that? DQ: Yeah, but he didn't give me a doll. Me: Right, but daddy gave you a computer and games and scooters and (the list is endless) DQ: Ok, I know and those things are great. Me: But .... you don't even know Mr. Donor....you don't even get to see Mr. Donor. DQ: I know. Why is that? Me: Well, its complicated and I don't really have an answer for that. DQ: I know...its because he's really busy. Me: Really busy? (insert long silent pause) Well, let me ask you...do you think it's ok? DQ: Yes, he's busy mom. Me: Really? What if mom ignored you when she was 'really busy' is that ok? What if dad ignored you when he was 'really busy?' Is that ok? DQ: No, ya'll can't ignore me...ya'll love me. Me: Yes, but its ok for Mr. Donor to ignore you? DQ: Um...no, I guess not. Does that mean that Mr. Donor doesn't love me? Me: Well....I'm not saying that, its just......complicated.
I love my daughter and I would do anything in my power to keep her from being hurt, but its tough. I have never explained the circumstances of how this nonexistent relationship came to be because she is too young and honestly, it has no bearing on things thus far. I've been able to push off the questions with simple answers of 'He's far away' or 'He's busy' and she's moved on from that subject until now....now I will not accept those answers.
These were the answers I provided many years ago, not the answers he provided, because honestly, he didn't provide any. But there comes a point, in this realm of parenting where empty answers do not suffice because in essence, what we say is what we teach our children. What I accept in my own life, my child learns as OK, what her mother says is the reasoning and allows it to be ok in their life...the child learns to accept as an answer as well.
I had never thought saying "He's busy" would ever be an answer and the logic to her reasoning, perhaps an excuse, but never an answer. I would hope I'm teaching my child that excuses are not answers and excuses are not acceptable, but obviously I have miscalculated just how many excuses I have allowed to be taken as answers.
Obviously, I have a lot more parenting to do, because ignorance - is NOT bliss.
Do you accept excuses as answers or do you seek the truth, no matter the cost?
When you least expect it, the unexpected happens and everything changes...
It felt like I was locked in a room (no not a padded one) in which I had nothing but four blank walls and a box of crayons. The door was locked and there were no windows, just a harsh light overhead. Me, being me...I would HATE to be locked in a room, despite the fact that I was given free reign to 'decorate' as I chose (hence the box of crayons and the note saying 'explore your artistic side.')
Instead of following the directions, I decided to twist the nob and yank and pull and push and scream at the top of my lungs - "LET ME OUT!!" The door did not budge. I beat on the walls with my bare hands, I kicked it till my feet hurt and when all else failed, I decided I should also bang my head against the walls(as if it would somehow magically make the difference.) All of it was futile and in the end, when my energy was exhausted, my voice hoarse from the screaming, my tears all run out, I picked up the box of crayons and drew a world full of vibrant colors and life.
Then something happened...
Just like that, the door unlocked and opened just a bit, not so I could run screaming "I AM FREE," but just a crack so that I know I can leave when I am ready. As I reached for the knob, intending to open that door and chew @ss of whom ever locked me in there in the first place, I hesitated...was it really so bad? Being in this place...was it so terrible after all?
I stood and looked around and the lines on the walls told a different story. It wasn't sad and dreary, it wasn't dark and gloomy, it was life. All around me in reds and blues and yellows and greens - life had taken shape and while I'm no Michaelangelo (I am more like a kindergarten kid who still colors outside the lines) I smiled because I had learned that sometimes I have to stop fighting the process and enjoy the creativity of life. Everything comes in stages and while we might not like the one we are currently in, if we look hard enough, we might just find our own 'box of crayons' to color with while we wait.
What are you going to do with YOUR box of crayons this weekend?
For many it is a belief in God or a Higher Being, I am not getting into the religious debate so for the purpose of this post, I am going to simply leave it at the definitions above.
I have faith. Faith that there is a bigger purpose for me than I am aware, faith that I am not alone in this world, faith that everything has a reason-even if unknown to me. I have always had faith, but I have not always held onto these beliefs as strongly as I do now.
Yesterday, I got the phone call I had known all along would come, the one I was preparing for and yet, secretly hoping I could escape, and you know what? Despite the fact that I had plenty of fair warning-it made my chest tighten up as I sucked in air like someone had just sucker punched me in the gut.
I sat there, listening to the person on the other end with a smile plastered on my face so no one around me would know and spoke with a more "up beat" chirp in my voice than necessary to try and mask my immensely growing fear. Doubtful that I succeeded, but then again perhaps no one knew.
Knowing it is coming does not make it easier.
The day I proclaim to the world that I have decided to seek my "passion," the day I take my stand against the great unknown and just like that, it laughs in my face and brings me right back down to earth, only this time a few inches smaller than I was when I started.
On the surface, everything is clearly defined, explanations and logic fall neatly into place. I could easily tie a pretty bow on this package and put it on the shelf with all the others, but in my heart I know there is something I am meant to understand that is just below the surface, something I can't quite see yet. I've talked about changea few months ago, at which time I had nothing to go on but a feeling. A few months prior to that I asked you all "If you would want to know what lies ahead?" Not because I knew what was ahead, but because I felt something. Even this morning as I sorted thru emails, one small quote at the end of a friends note caught my eye -
"Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk."
So what am I trying to say?
Yesterday sucked, to put it bluntly and for today I'm holding onto faith that there is a bigger picture, that I cannot see or understand yet, but there is something in store much greater than the fear I currently harbor. Fear is my greatest weakness and I am doing my damndest to over come this right now, not really sure how, but knowing that while things could be so much worse, this is not a problem I am facing so much as an opportunity waiting to be seized.
The great thing about blogs is that you can document things...namely New Years Resolutions. The BAD thing about blogs is that you can document things...unfortunately New Years Resolutions.
As this year 2008 comes to a close I look back at what I thought I would accomplish, at what I wanted to accomplish and, well, what I didn't quite so much accomplish.
#1 Forgive and let go - After many days of contemplation, I am ready to forgive myself for my faults, for my shortcomings, and for my failures. I want to let go and move on so that those wounds can heal
Did I succeed? I'd have to say it's yes to this one. I'm not going to say the process is completely finished and I've closed the book on that chapter, but I can admit that there were many things troubling my mind and my heart when I started this year that I have been able to let go of. It's been a process, but I'm glad I can finally lay some of the heavier burdens to rest.
#2 Finish school - I am finally only a few hours away from completing my degree. I started this full time about 2 years ago and now the light at the end of the tunnel can be seen. My goal for this one is to get it completed this semester so I can walk across the stage in June. (classes are online so I can finish anytime, however graduation is every year in June)
Did I succeed? Yes! I walked across the stage with the hub this past June and then I got to spend a fun filled, adventure packed weekend with him (sans kids) in Denver. Unfortunately for us it didn't last long since now we are both pursuing our Masters, but hey...I've got one down and one to go with infinite possibilities...learning never stops!
#3 Run a marathon - this was one of those goals I had set for last year, I actually wanted to attempt the St. Jude half-marathon (which is in December) but because I got pregnant, it wasn't really doable. Good news is that I am not prego anymore and I am free to resume this goal. I've actually modified it a bit and now I want to run the actual marathon instead of the half.
Did I succeed? Yes, most importantly, yes. It is the challenge I needed in my life to push me onto the next step in this journey and while there were times I struggled with wanting to quit and times I told myself there was nothing difficult about it all...in the end I learned. I learned a little more about myself in the process and I completed my very first Marathon on December 6, 2008 as I ran to support the children of St. Jude.
#4 Finish house - Well, I guess completely is a little far fetched, but I would like to have the rooms painted and the master room decorated by the end of summer.
Did I succeed? Well, that is debatable. We've continued to work on the house and we did purchase a new bed and our color/decorating scheme has been decided on (thanks to the new bedding) but the house is still a work in progress...I imagine it will continue to be though.
#5 Certification - I would like to have one certification completed by the end of the year, preferably security, but anyone will suffice
Did I succeed? No. I'd like to say yes, but I have to admit while I did go thru training the week before Christmas in an effort to fulfill this goal, I have not achieved it just yet. I am scheduled to take the examination in January so hopefully...
#6 Lose weight - I want the rest of the baby weight gone as well as a few extra pounds, if I can stay on schedule with the marathon training then this should take care of itself...lets hope!
Did I succeed? If I have to start the sentence with "that depends" the answer should be NO, but I'm gonna call this a success. I did lose all the baby weight, which was my goal - however the few extra pounds have come and gone with the weather and who knows if I'll ever really let them go. It's not where I want to be, but it is a healthy weight and I've dropped a pants size (beyond what I was before I got pregnant) so I won't complain. I stayed relatively on track for my marathon training so I'm going to chalk this one up to 'muscle weighs more than fat right?!
What about you? Did you keep to your New Years Resolutions??
January 11, 2008 I posted the following entry below on my old blog, the first of 5 resolutions for this year...
It's been a few days since I posted, I'm not sure why it has been so hard - it just seems that I can't find the words to express my thoughts lately. There have been so many of them since the start of the new year and many times I have started to post, but stopped only to find myself writing a jumbled mess. Even today it seems this too will turn out that way, but just maybe this process will help me begin to sort it all out.
I don't know if it is my need to have a new years resolution that has sent me down the path of my past, if having all the emotional/hormonal stuff that comes with having a new baby, or if it is cosmic fate that is leading me to re-exam my past, but I have been dealing with some of the things that I never really let go of before. I know that during the "growing-up" process we learn to make choices, we learn who we are and what we stand for, but what happens if during those crucial years you never learn those things...what if all you learn is how to deal? How to deal with pain. How to deal with rejection. How to substitute fake for real and find alternate methods of love when life makes you feel as if you never had any? I believe the growing process never stops, but somewhere inside me I had started to believe that I had become grown and was just tweaking who I was.
I look at my past and try desperately to figure out who I was then, but even now there is no clear answer. I was a lot of things, the only thing I know for sure is that I was searching for something that seemed so elusive, that I just started to accept anything in its place. I wasn't a bad person, I did have some confused ideals at the time, but I wasn't bad. I wanted to be loved. Even now I struggle with the need to be loved...not that I am not loved, I guess truth is I have a hard time accepting love or letting myself be loved.
Why was it so hard for me? When did it start? Where does this feeling come from? Those are the questions I wish I had answers for, but I don't. It scares me because I would never want my daughters to feel the way I did. About 15 years ago I started to wonder down a path, I was damaged and broken and didn't even know it. I struggled at every turn trying to cover the issue, fix me, but I never knew I was broken. About 4 years later I met someone who touched my life and helped me believe in myself again. It was brief, but the impact was immeasurable. Truth be told, I slid down hill a bit and as fate would have it, this same person came back into my life and helped me get it back together. They restored my faith in me and I never even knew it was happening. Despite this, I had never worked thru some of the issues I had, I never healed my wounds...I only covered them up and hoped like hell they would go away, but they didn't.
Recently words were spoken that had a profound effect on me. Just a few simple words sent me right back to those moments, ripped the old wounds open and left me feeling helpless. I struggled with the belief this could happen, of course not - that was such a long time ago, it is impossible. Not true. I have revisited those memories and I don't want to feel that way again, I don't want to be able to be controlled by them. After many days of contemplation, I am ready to forgive myself for my faults, for my shortcomings, and for my failures. I want to let go and move on so that those wounds can heal.
Resolution 1: Forgive and let go
Even now as I look back on the year I can remember vividly where I was at that moment and all that I was feeling, struggling with. In an effort to make good on this resolution I set out with good intentions and read a few books, wrote open letters and focused on why I was so hurt after all this time. Now as 2008 comes to a close, here is what I learned.
Forgiveness is something only YOU can give YOURSELF.
To the person who taught me "love hurts" - I forgive all the wrong doing on both our parts. I was too young to truly understand and I let you manipulate me for your own gain and then make me believe it was my fault. While you were the first real 'emotion' I let myself feel, you were not the last, and I thank god every day I am still here today.
To the person who taught me "relationships don't last" - I forgive us. I forgive us for so much of what we did to each other that left such an imprint on me as to what 'relationships' are like. Not every relationship is a failure waiting to happen.
To the person who taught me "to question my confidence" - I forgive. Not by words but purely actions did you manage to convey this lesson and I have hated you for a long time. Belief in myself can be freely given at anytime and the time is now.
To the person who taught me "I am selfish" - I forgive me. You gave so much and I took it all when in the end I could only give a little, I am sorry. I will never be able to tell you how much you did for me, but no longer do I need to carry the shame in knowing what I did was wrong.
To the person who taught me "dare to dream" - I am forever grateful. We've fought many battles and while the war may not be won, I know that with you in my corner anything is possible. You give me strength to be better than I was today and for that Thank you.
When the weather turns, the air gets crisp and fall comes to a close, I find myself fumbling thru memories of my childhood. Time has clouded much of the early years, but there are things that have left lasting impressions on me to this day.
One thing I remember most clearly was the smells. My mother was a homemaker and she was always crafting something, but this time of year brought about tamales, which are a staple where I grew up. Tamales are a very time consuming process - it takes HOURS to cook the meat (pork, chicken , beef) and then season it to perfection. Masa must be made, corn husks must be soaked, the tamales must then be assembled and rolled just so and then the finished product needs to be steamed for a few more hours. Dozens upon dozens would be made, sorted and wrapped for delivery during the holidays and these were primarily only made during the 'cooler' months in hell (november/december.) Each day I would arrive home from school to find pots of meat on the table, steamers on the stove full of tamales and my mother covered in masa as she continued to make more. The house would be warm from the cooking going on in the kitchen (no we did not have central heat back then, only a little space heater) and you could smell the food long before you even opened the front door.
I may not live that far south, but this is a tradition I have brought with me wherever I go. Just a few weeks ago I cooked up a batch of tamales for the family and friends - it was so very time consuming, but so yummy too. The change of seasons just makes me want to cozy up in the kitchen and cook.
Another memory I smile at during this time of year is the decorating for the holidays. I can remember the day after Thanksgiving going out in the garage and digging out all the boxes of christmas stuff. Decorations (mismatched and mostly handmade), multicolored christmas lights that played music for the tree, patchwork quilts, cross-stiched wall decorations and tinsel by the handfuls would be spread about the house in hopes of brightening everyones spirits.
Outside I would loveingly adorn our 'Lone' tree and massive bush with strands of lights from years past. Some would blink, some would stay solid, some were 'tiny twinkle' lights and some were the old school 'screw in light bulbs.' Rarely was anything uniform, it was typically som type of incoherant christmas mess, but it was as festive as a childs imagination could make it.
One of my more funny decorating memories is the year I decided to decorate my fathers 1976 Chevy Pickup truck that took up permanent residence curbside in front of our house. This truck had easily lived thru better years and my father would not part with it. It was loud (could hear him coming down the road 6 blocks away) had an am radio, windows that didn't always roll down (manual crank) and often times did not want to start. That season, it found itself parked and I decided (in my youthful wisdom) that it should be decorated. So I tied ribbons and bows to it, wreaths to the front and back, garland (cheap, non weather resistant garland) along the sides and then took shoe polish and wrote "Merry Christmas" upon the windows. It was definitely a sight to behold...but one thing about my parents is that they never said a word.
The memories I have are more than items bought for me - they are experiences that I was fortunate enough to have. Childhood goofiness I was able to relish in and little moments that have stuck with me thru the good and bad. I look back now and realize that while there weren't family traditions instilled in me(singing christmas carols around the tree), fancy family vactions to look forward to each year, or expensive presents to adorn the tree - my holiday memories are none the less happy. Yes, perhaps there are those memories that have been tarnished with time and perhaps still, some have been broken or lost - but I can say that the ones that meant the most to me have stuck with me thru the years and can be dusted off each time I need a smile. I just hope that I can help my own children to have the kind of memories they too will look back fondly on one day.
As I stood in front of the mirror this morning, smearing on Nivea Anti-Wrinkle and Firming cream, I had a thought...am I being suckered?
Early in my youth, I like most people believe my beauty will last forever (ok, not forever, but pretty darn close.) Growing up in Hell should have required use of LOTS and LOTS of sunscreen, but instead we chose to slather on baby oil and Tropicana Tanning spray. We were always oiled down and positioning our lounge chairs to maximize sun exposure. The ever elusive brown skin we were after was just the other side of that little plastic bottle and I was sure that my naturally, pale white skin was really just some evil trick and that god had intended me to be much darker.
I don't have a history of skin cancer in my family so when the fear of 'sun exposure' made all the headlines, I didn't worry. Aging and wrinkles and leathery skin - were of no thought, because I had to be like, um... 60 to get thatright? I was sure I would be old and on my death bed long before I saw the dreaded outcome of so much sun exposure. Youth - oh how I long for that complete naivety again. Somewhere around my 18th birthday, I met a woman who introduced me to facial products and a regime of skin care. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever met - only she was not your typical tall, slender, bronzed beauty. She was instead, a plus sized woman with porcelain white skin and jet black hair. She spent many years educating me to the wonders of skin care and what a value sunscreen really is. She convinced me that aging starts now and I will be much younger than 60, not likely on my deathbed and much too late to reverse the damage if I did not change my horrible ways.
I tried - I began using lotions, masks, facial peels, body scrubs, herbal makeup blah, blah blah - but for a girl in her young 20's it's really hard to believe I will ever grow old and not look like I did back then. Eventually it all stopped and I fell back into my old habits somewhere around the time I was criticized for having such pale skin. (Ok, I was called PASTY and who really wants to be referred to as 'the pasty girl?) Time went on and I had a child, work took precedence, life happened and a few years later I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the face looking back at me.
Who was this woman with the dark circles under her eyes? The lines in her brow, the wrinkles, the bags...where had the youthful glow, I used to have, gone? I knew I had to change and so I dug in the recesses of my mind and found that beauty regimen I had forgotten about, headed to the nearest store and stocked up on products all claiming to "eliminate" this or "reduce" that. I was convinced I would find a much more 'youthful' me - the 'beautiful' me I had lost, just inside that container labeled $29.95.
I did not find the me I had lost, but what I found was much better.
No, I did not find a miracle cure in a bottle and I am not here to sell you on Niveaunder eye anti-wrinkle cream or Oil of Olayvitamin C capsules or any other number of a host of products. Most of the products I tried did produce some type of result in the initial phase, but never completely 'removed' the aging I was trying to escape. What I learned in the process though, was that the laugh lines in my face show that my life is full of love and good memories, the wrinkles in my brow - are worry that only a mother can know as she watches her child become an independent little person. The lines and circles that appear under my eyes are from many sleepless nights when a child is sick or the love of my life is away or a dear friend is needing comfort from the loss of someone close.
The me, that I see each morning is not someone to be ashamed of but someone to appreciate because she is living life - the good, the bad and everything in between. This is not to say, I am going to throw in the towel just yet because I still want to look my best, but no longer am I so concerned with the routine of products I must apply each night before bed or each morning before work. Don't get me wrong, I still apply a little 'firming' cream here or there but I'm no longer trying to hide from the me I'm becoming, instead I try to cover up some of the more obvious "party like a rockstar" moments.
I have been going to the gym since the temperatures have dropped some and my beloved daylight slips off much too early in the evening. I thought some indoor running might compensate for this lack of energy to really go 'out' to run and here lately I've been taking DQ with me.
There are classes for the kids and the other night, after I finished my run - I stopped in to get DQ from the tumbling class she choose to attend. While in there I noticed a little girl, 7ish who was not so little. She was actually a rather 'large' little girl who was trying to do cartwheels and flips and stuff the other girls were doing. She, however, was having trouble getting her legs high enough in the air to go all the way over.
I sat and watched this little girl try many times to do this and I was inspired by her will - personally, I would have stopped after a few rounds ending on the floor, but she did not. As I watched, I could only feel pity for this girl - obviously we live in a time where a lot of children are not healthy, but times have not changed that much since I was a little girl and kids are hurtful.
I sat there and watched and waited as the kids finished their class and at the end of the class a woman, very much resembling this girl, walked in and waited. I noticed this woman, I could not miss the resemblance between her and her daughter - she was not there to work out (she was in blue jeans), with her overall disheveled appearance. I smiled as I past this woman on my way out all the while wondering why she was at the gym and why she was not setting a better example for healthy living for her child.
In the days that followed, I noticed this woman more often. It turns out she works at the gym in the child care center any one day she stopped me and asked if DQ could sit with her girls and have some snacks. This woman, who did not know me from anyone else, went out of her way to be nice to my daughter, the only other little girl waiting for the class to begin.
I know it's not much, it's really more like nothing, but something inside of me is ashamed. Not for the way I treated this woman, but for the way I originally 'thought' about this woman, based solely on what she looked like. I don't think of myself as someone who judges based on appearances, I try very hard to look past them because I know very well how deceiving they can be and yet on this occasion - while I didn't treat her any differently I looked at her differently. I saw her as someone who was hurting her child by not taking steps to teach her a healthy life.
I don't know this woman, I don't know her story, I don't know what she does or does not teach her child, but in that moment I passed judgement from one mother to another. Motherhood is hard enough with out judgement from strangers...life is hard enough without judgement from strangers.
Classy Chaos recently posted about appearances - it struck a chord with me because I've worked a long time to not be that person who sees 'hired help' or someone of a different social class and dismisses them based on that alone. I go out of my way to speak, smile, acknowledge people and perhaps I had gotten complacent in my efforts. Perhaps that is what makes this so much more personal for me - I thought I was beyond this behavior and yet I see that just because my words are not verbalized....my thoughts still affect my actions.
I still do not know this woman's story, I do not know what she does or does not teach her child, but I know that she tries, she provides her child with an option to be active and the tools to learn a healthier lifestyle. In her own way, this woman taught me a lesson, one I still need to work on.
Have you ever had a first impression turn out to be wrong?
The problem with 'Partying like a Rockstar' is that I am no rockstar and my partying usually consists of cartoons and sweets.
1. One, Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila ... no more! Yes, that's right, Somehow the hub managed to order (let me order) shot after shot, at the time, it seemed like a good idea - however when the sun came up the next morning ... not so much
2. Rockstar - I was intent on taking the rockstar to a whole new level, so when the bar we decided on going to had a live band AND they offered to let me on stage with them, I graciously accepted. However, intoxicated and rhythm impaired aren't perhaps the best combinations when on center stage.
3. Age, it's just a number. HA HA HA Despite my best attempts at believing this, age is so much more than just a number. No longer am I able to party all night (ok, so it was midnight) and then recoup by the next morning, ready to go again by the time the sun goes down. Nope, I needed the whole day, the night and thank goodness I still had one day left in the weekend.
4. Nothing in this life is free, for a brief moment I lived like the rockstar that I am (in my own mind) thinking the world was one 'happy shiny' place, but everything that goes up must come back down again. Or in my case... what goes down must come back up. Oh yes, dear readers...in my haste to be the rockstar that I so clearly am not - I bowed down to the porcelain goddess and begged for forgiveness.
All in all, I had the most fun I've had in a LONG time. My sweet, sweet hubby was kind enough to take me, get me intoxicated, VIDEO it as evidence and then put me to bed with a Tylenol and a cold wash cloth - isn't he the greatest??!!
It was 7:00pm, I had just finished eating dinner and was getting an evening run in on the treadmill before I headed to my 8:00 standing game of hearts. This was how we usually spent the evenings passing the time...a game of cards on the mess decks, some good natured 'ribbing' and talk about what we would do when we saw land again.
You see, I was on 581 feet of floating steel in the middle of the ocean, serving my country as a communications technician. It had been an ordinary day with the usual activities and an even more ordinary evening up until that point - the moment when everything changed. In one swift flash, the alarms sounded and the ship was a flurry of activity as people ran to and from their previous destinations. We all were acutely aware of what had to happen when the alarms sounded despite what we did not know was going on.
In the few minutes it took me to get to where I needed to be, there was little anyone knew, there were more questions than answers at that time. We were told there had been an attack on the world trade center and the reports were still coming in. They would let us know as news was made available. We were shutting down Internet access to limit the users and they would distribute all information as it came in.
There is nothing like being in a pitch black room trying to find your way around. We were blind to everything going on around and left to our imaginations - you can bet the worst we could imagine had already been addressed and was expanding. Not knowing how bad it was, but knowing something was very, very wrong because of what we were being expected to do out there was a very scary feeling.
Three days passed and during that time all we had were written accounts of what had happened and what was happening. Pictures were limited, video footage was none - security in our area of operation was heightened and things were changing drastically. Finally, we received a video tape of the news footage that had been recorded from another ship at the time and it was broadcast over the internal system. I can still remember sitting there, glued to the tv, much like I imagine many others were when it happened. As each incredible image flashed on the screen the realizations were made that things would never be the same again.
It's been 7 years since that time and yet, today the memory is just as fresh as it was yesterday. I don't imagine many people will ever forget that day or the feelings they felt. Life changes in the blink of an eye, little moments affect us and change us just as much as the big moments in our lives - for me, I realized just how important it is to say I love you to those who matter to me and that the human spirit is an amazing thing when we all bond together and lay our differences aside.
"God is great, god is good, please take care of my family AND I wish I may I wish I might...god I wish I was a teenager."
This was my daughters prayer one night. Yes, it was a mix of elements but it was sincere. My daughter, who is only 6 is counting the moments until she is a teenager - I on the other hand am in NO HURRY!
I look back on my own awkward teenage years and think "God, I am so glad I survived them and I would NEVER want to go back." However I remember being a child and being told I couldn't do something by my parents and thinking to myself, "when I'm a teenager, I'll do whatever I want to." But, it was never that simple.
I'll admit there was something appealing about the prospect of being older when I was a child, but I failed to realize the 'responsibility' aspect of it. All I saw was freedom-I never once saw the "you must earn the right" to be able to do what it is I was after - suffice it to say, when I reached those years, I was quickly made aware.
I giggle to myself now, as I listen to my 6 year old daughter, urgently pray at night for god to make her a teenager while Mom urgently begs him to not let her grow up so fast. I try to explain to her to enjoy this time because it goes by far to quickly and those years of being a teenager are awkward and difficult, but she doesn't see this. She only sees her freedom. If you could go back to your teenage years, what advice would you give to yourself?
I often wonder if our human nature is really as flawed as people make it sound? If you read the paper or watch the news there is so much going on around us to make us question it, it would be hard to think of it as anything but flawed. But then there are glimmers of hope in which it is obvious people out there are not inherently evil, but can have compassion for others without an alternate motive in mind.
I am not saying that I believe people are perfect, I know we are human and can only do so much, but for the most part I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, until given a reason otherwise. Right now, I think I am facing that reason in a situation and I'm not entirely sure I want to believe it.
I am not always a very trusting person, however I have pretty good instincts and can usually gauge how much trust to give. There are time the sirens go off and the lights flash and I choose to ignore them because I want to believe this person is good - unfortunately I typically end up with the result I originally thought would happen.
I recently rediscovered an old 'friend' via the Internet and we began chatting. We shared a few conversations but they were limited to what information they could see via our social medium. I think this lack of information prompted a 'friend' request. They were able to then see photos and all other 'personal' content I keep hidden from the public view. Within 3 days I noticed I no longer had them as a friend, however they had copied a photo from my site and uploaded it to their own.
I am not entirely sure what to think of this. I want to think this was an 'accident' and not intentional however my instincts are screaming otherwise. What I don't understand is why? Why would they do this? Why take a photo of something they clearly have no desire for? Why say the things and act as if they care if they really do not?
I am not perfect, I do remember a conversation a little bit ago where someone said something very similar to me and all I could try to explain was that they were mistaken - it wasn't any of that at all. Perhaps this is my karma or perhaps this is nothing more than what it seems. The sad thing is that I see quite often how deceitful a persons nature can be when hidden behind a computer. It's almost as if this is their shield and it's not wrong because they aren't really doing it. Perhaps it gives them the illusion of not being accountable because they never have to leave the comfort of their own home.
I don't know, but maybe I should pay more attention to my instincts in the future.
Have you encountered a fake persona on the Internet by someone you thought you knew?
Recently I had a conversation and the topic of what we want came up. That however is a broad topic and can encompass what I want to accomplish for today, big projects for this week or month or even long term goals, so just to say I want this... would not necessarily make it happen.
For anyone who reads this blog or knows me, is aware that I've been looking at my life in terms of 'what I want' from it for a while now. Many times I've felt frustrated because I know people who seem to know just want they want out of life, they seem so focused and know just how to go about getting it. I, on the other hand, look out my window and see a vast and open world full of possibilities and just don't know. The options seem limitless and appealing, but I want to know what is the right path for me, I want to know what is going to work and how to get there - I DO NOT want to wander around trying this and that only find out I am no good (translate=have failed) and need to start over. This is not to say I am not happy for the people I know who have 'found' their path, because I am, I just wish MY time would come. I wish they would impart on me the secret to their enlightenment, I just wish I had the answers for myself.
Recently I mentioned that I had started reading Eckhart Tolle's book A New Earth and had taken it on my vacation to re-read some sections. One that caught my attention (previously overlooked) is a section that discusses change.
"Some changes may look negative on the surface but you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge."
I had never thought of it like this, but it makes sense to me. My problem with this statement is not the change itself, but the negative look of change. I have struggled with the idea of failure for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I do not remember when it started or even why it is/was such a big deal to me in the first place. I've often been heard saying 'failure is not an option' and been proud to admit that "if I thought there was a chance I would fail...I would rather not attempt the challenge at all." Never once has it occurred to me this logic is faulty, but just a few days ago I saw the gigantic flaw that was smack in the middle and can no longer overlook this.
"When you become comfortable with uncertainty, infinite possibilities open up in your life. It means fear is no longer a dominant factor in what you do and no longer prevents you from taking action to initiate change."
I read this and the light was turned on.
I have thought that because I was willing to do things other thought 'scary' or 'unconventional' I was a risk taker, but the truth is I saw the outcome as positive and never had any doubt I wouldn't succeed at the task. This does not however, open me up to change or the possibilities that come with change. Uncertainty is my fear - my paralyzing fear that has stopped me dead in my tracks many times before.
Being aware does not make it disappear into the night, it does however make it less easy to over look when that is my sole reason for not giving an option a try.
Has uncertainty negatively impacted your decisions before?
A conversation came up today about knowing what lies ahead or what lies in store for each one of us. Obviously we each have free will and can choose our individual paths, BUT if it was possible to know you were headed for trouble would you want to know?
I'm talking more in terms of - if someone said to you..."I can tell you what is going to happen (good or bad and you don't get to choose) and you cannot change it, you cannot stop it, all you can do is know that it is coming and prepare for it ahead of time"... would you really want to know?
A few years back the hub and I lived in Gulfport Ms and had been there for a few years. Hurricanes were not new to us, we had weathered the storm for a few that came near us. Each one someone would say "We'll get ours, we are due" and predictions from weather forcasters said with the increase in activity it was likely. But did we move..no. There was nothing that said "it would happen" but it odds were very likely.
Even as we watched Katrina move closer and closer to land, knowing we were in the path, we did not leave. It was coming and we could not stop it - all we could do was prepare for the damage it would bring. Even at the time, we did not fully comprehend how life would change because of this, but we did what we could to prepare. Looking back, if someone had said "Kel, there is a deadly storm coming that will forever change your life and your family's life," would I have left and headed for safer ground or would I have stayed once again, to weather the storm?
Personally, I believe if it is going to happen then I have no control over that, but I can prepare myself and continue on my journey. Granted, the above is only an example and this situation is hypothetical to say the least, but...if we could know what is up ahead would it really make a difference?
Today, I was faced with a situation - I've thought about it, I've dreaded it, I've looked forward to it - and today I live it.
Part of blogging, is the ability to speak your mind, some dedicate their talents to just certain areas, I like to talk about all things that touch my life, my soul, my heart. I don't censor my thoughts -- I've never been given any reason to. What I think, I write...it's what I feel and I do it without remorse. In general, I don't have readers who are in my close circle of friends. Blogging is not a secret, but unless they ask I don't offer up where I'm at.
I find that it is kind of liberating to be able to speak my thoughts freely without worrying what someone close to me will think. Will they wonder if I'm strange because it's taken me 6 years to get over myself? Will they snicker because I struggle with my weight...which I've now made obvious what it is?
The Internet offers anonymity to speaking your mind, you can have feed back from others who don't know you and yet there are times we share some really personal stuff. My point is, for me at least...what is out there is real, no pretense, no fake smile so no one will ask questions, no shiny polished surface so I don't feel rejected...just me.
Today, I had my first encounter with someone offended by something that I'd written. At first I was bothered...not because I had written it, but because they were hurt - when never did I say anything hurtful about them. I didn't understand and I immediately went to defending myself and trying to explain my actions. It wasn't until after I started this process that I realized - I'm not sorry...if I'm not sorry then why am I explaining or defending my position?
I was not sorry for my words, only sorry for the way they were perceived by the reader (even though they were not directed at them.) So then what? Is having a friend or family member hurt by my writing about my feelings worth me censoring my thoughts?
What are you thoughts on having 'personal' people read what you write? Do you take that into account when you write you blog?
Yesterday was weigh day for me - one I will say I was very excited about. Everyone has an ideal weight they would like to be at, for me, it's somewhere I don't think I'll ever see again (note 125) but after 2 kids and a growing age by the year I'm content to settle for a different weight. (note 135) I say all this because I have fluctuated the scale quite a lot over the last few years and will admit that it wasn't until then that I thought my weight really mattered.
Somewhere around 21 (when I last weighed 125) after a failed marriage, I took up food as a replacement for my self-esteem. It made me feel good and it was always available. I gained 10lbs over the course of 6 months and went to 135, no the numbers don't look so bad but at 5'6", trust me, 10lbs makes a difference. I didn't really notice it at first until I had to suck in to get into my favorite pair of jeans, but at that age who cares if your jeans are skin tight...I still look good right?
Eventually I got over my 'man hater' phase, but I kept my love affair with food. I started working out regularly but the weight didn't come off, even still I didn't worry about it. I got pregnant with my first baby and gained 40 pounds. At 5'6" - 175lbs can make me look pretty round, but I was convinced I was young and I would lose it. Within weeks of my daughter being born I started taking appetite suppressing pills with energy boosters. I became obsessed with my weight and wanted it gone. Never mind that it took me 9 months to gain it, I wanted it gone yesterday. I spent the next few months diligently watching what I ate, exercising, popping appetite suppressor pills and some of the weight came off...not all. I had gotten back down to 145 and just couldn't break the weight, then I went on deployment (military) and got down to 138. I was excited - thought I looked like a million bucks.
It was easy when I got back to let my love affair with food take over. I had spent many months without my favorites (Popeye's, WhatABurger, KrispyKreme) and I made sure I made up for lost time. Over 10 months I went from 138 to 155. By the time I realized what had happened I was on my way taking diet pills and cutting back my eating to just what was necessary. I started exercising again but even then I only managed to lose 8 pounds over 6 months. I would starve myself and then I would binge on alcohol and fatty fried foods, convinced I could eat like this because I had only had a carrot stick to eat that day.
Eventually I fell back into my old habits I regained the 8 lbs I had lost and it wasn't until I saw myself in a photograph that I realized just what I looked like. Back at 155lbs I decided I would start Weight Watchers and try to do it the right way. I worked and followed their plan - food wise and lost 10 lbs over 6 months. I couldn't bring myself to do the exercise part, but over time I had learned to love my constant battle with food - eat what I want, starve, reduce portions, eat what I want, starve (vicious cycle continued.) I had gotten so used to punishing or rewarding myself with food I didn't even notice what I was doing.
At 146 I got pregnant with my second child and once again I gained 40 lbs = 185 at delivery. For someone who still dreams she is 125 lbs it is hard to watch those numbers climb on the scale each month. It doesn't matter what the reason (baby or not) my first instinct was to cut back. I spent those 9 months with pregnancy induced diabetes and had to give myself insulin injections 2x's daily. I HATED THIS!!! Not only did I have to give myself insulin, but I had to monitor my blood 4-5 times a day, monitor what I ate and learn how each food effected my sugar levels.
There were moments during all this that I wanted to just say "F**K it" and not take the shots, not do the tests, just eat the pound of french fries and gravy that were calling my name, but I didn't. My unborn child needed me to take care of it and that is the only thing that kept me doing what needed to be done. During this process I fought with myself but I also learned many a valuable lesson about myself.
I have always had a love of food - mainly because my mother cooked so much growing up.
Traveling around the world only expanded this love affair.
I also learned that food is my 'security blanket.' When life gets crappy I want the things that make me feel like I'm in control, things that bring about happy emotions and for me - it is food.
Being that I had diabetes while pregnant (borderline w/first child) I have the possibility of developing it later in life.
In the months following the birth of my second child, I have taken up eating healthy (I still like fried chicken and pizza) I have started exercising and thru a brief moment of 'body image/fat' talk from my oldest I learned that much of what I say and do effects her. In six months I have gotten down to 145lbs, (lost all the baby weight) and am continuing to work towards my goal weight by being healthy.
Why do I bring all this up - mainly because I have many friends who are expecting their first child in the next couple of months and we've all gotten caught up in body image. It's hard for anyone (child or not) not to get caught up in it. It is everywhere we look, the clothes we buy, the articles we read (we're too fat or we're too skinny). It's ok to want to be 'healthy' but it's self destructive to have unrealistic idea's of how we would like to look.
Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some move our souls to dance. They awaken us to a new understanding with the passing of a whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon, they stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our heart, and we are never, ever the same. Anonymous
Recently I've been doing a lot of introspective soul searching, I've been evaluating my thoughts about myself, attempting to redefine myself and simply questioning what once was black and white - is now very gray. In this process, I have put a lot of mental energy into certain subjects, mostly in the form of open ended questions to which I have not necessarily found the answers by way of words alone, but through the people I've met and interactions I've had with them. A question was raised over at SemiCharmedWife "Can I still be me without my past?" to which has sparked as a massive conversation piece. Personally, I think I am a collective sum of my pieces, a whole of my parts. This being said, my experiences have been a result of the many people I have met along this journey. I've seen some good, some bad and some in the middle. I've placed people on pedestals because I thought they could do no wrong, only to find myself let down in the end. I've also underestimated and judged some people too early only to find they are 'more than meets the eye' and usually a wonderful friend. This is not to say however, that all my first impressions are wrong, it's just that some require more more depth than others.
I've been influenced both positively and negatively by the people I've met. Some have pushed me beyond my limits and I am a better person and some have torn me down, of which I have learned valuable lessons about myself. The problem I have is not the people or the experiences I have had, but the fact that I let them [past memories] control my life, let them define who I am today. The people become a measure of where I want to be (or where I am running away from) and my experiences are a collection of the "me's" that I've been.
What I've failed to see, until recently, is through each of these people, I've learned a little bit more about myself...I am not any one specific person (past or present) but very much unique. I have been able to experience people with admirable qualities and those not so much. I am not a good person because I was friends with Mother Teresa or a bad person because I once ran around with a murderer, but have learned from their attitudes something that can make me a better person than I was then.
They've all come at different times, some when I've least expected, some when I've been in most need and some when I didn't know I needed them at all. Regardless of their timeing, looking back, they were always there when I needed them the most during that part of my life. I've said many times before, I believe everything happens for a reason and I believe people are no exception. So back to the question that started it all - "Can I be me without my past?" Yes and No. My past would not exist if were not for me, but without it I still could. With it I am just a bit more colorful than before.
Are your friends there for a reason, season or a lifetime and are you better for it?
Even now as I look back on the year I can remember vividly where I was at that moment and all that I was feeling, struggling with. In an effort to make good on this resolution I set out with good intentions and read a few 
