Earthquakes shake through the foundation of our lives. They just do. They aren’t planned and you can’t escape them. It reminds me a bit of the book Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen. In the book, the family goes looking for a bear and they encounter long wavy grass, a deep cold river, thick oozy mud, a big dark forest, a swirling whirling snowstorm, a narrow gloomy cave, and they end up finally finding the bear and they race back through everything they encountered to end up safe and cozy at home. Each obstacle they meet, they have to go through them; they can’t go over, under or around, they MUST go through.
Just in case you want to hear the book you can listen to it below…
Life is just like that. We encounter obstacles all along the way and sometimes, most times, we have to go through them instead of over, around or under.
To me that is our lives day in and day out. We go out into the world through every obstacle, face our biggest challenges and then run right back through those obstacles to get to the safety of our cozy little homes only to do it all again the next day. Thankfully, I have a cozy, little home; some of us don’t even have that luxury. There is no safe place to land for some of us.
About two weeks ago, an announcement was made that shook my foundation to the point where the Earth opened up and a huge fissure was made. It was one of those life changes where events prior will be referred to as before and events occurring from now on will be referred to as after. The scary part for me this time is that I didn’t end up on the part of the Earth on the after side of things right away. I started falling right down that fissure. This event knocked me off my foundation in a way that I didn’t land right away.
You know the feeling. You hear some news and right away you just feel like you got on one of those rides like the Tower of Terror at Disneyland and you are free-falling. Your stomach reaches up into your throat and you just want to land. But somehow you don’t. There is this up and down motion as you travel through the ride and you just aren’t quite sure when it will stop and you will safely be on solid footing again. That is how I felt the past two weeks.
I guess if I am being honest, I still feel like that a bit, but the ride is losing momentum so hopefully I am nearing solid footing once again.
This event reminded me once again how little control we have over life. Life is a ride. We are born into it and there may be twists and turns where we can make certain life choices; like who is on the ride with us or what kind of track the ride will have, for instance bumpy or smooth, we might have some input. But, many times the track is decided for us. We can only choose how we react. Do we buckle up and enjoy the ride or kick and scream, beg and plead, and demand a refund?
Most times, I think it is human nature when life takes a turn we don’t like to whine a little bit. But the best way through it is to assess the situation, make the best of it and buckle up for the bumpy parts and enjoy what you can of the ride.
Life is going to happen to us. It just is. We can only choose how we react to it as the ride moves us forward. That is the only control that we have.
For me, the best thing I can do is sit back, make sure the buckle is fastened and enjoy the view and make the best I possibly can of the roller coaster ride of life.
And what a view it is…
Hope you are surviving your roller coaster of a life, too.
I should have walked today. The past few months I have been working up my stamina; getting back into shape, counting calories. I think it’s working. Sunday I ran a 10K. Okay, I jogged 5+ miles of a 10K and walked the rest. The next day I ran another 5K and the day after that I walked/jogged another 3 miles. Yesterday my body needed a rest and so I walked a bit, but didn’t run. Okay jog. Semantics; shemantics. Well the day after that ended with a note sent home regarding my youngest that sent me into fiery mama bear mode and the day’s mode didn’t change much so while I stepped well there wasn’t much walking and peaceful calm in my attitude.
Today the universe seemed to know I needed to balance out yesterday and responded with a calm, stillness. I settled into that stillness in full gear; Uggs, sweatpants, and my favorite cozy sweatshirt. I hunkered down into work, reading, laundry, writing, and the small, even goodness of my life.
Plus I don’t do “shoulds” any more. There isn’t a place for them in my life any more.
My life fills me up and I thank God for that daily.
All the little moments…the smiles of my children, the way their hair smells after a shower, the unique ways they greet me at the end of a school day. My heart fills with the stories they tell, surprising my husband with 14 gifts for our 14 married years together. The coziness of my home, my clothes. The simple pleasures of a good cup of coffee, the way cold ice water quenches a thirst so completely. Or the smell of fresh-cut grass, a sunny day, a breeze that carries a hint of jasmine. Sweet, encouraging text messages from friends. You know all the little things that make you feel whole, complete.
There is a stability, a solidness that I feel in my soul on days like today. I wasn’t spinning in different directions, reeling from an act of unkindness, or torn in a thousand directions by a barrage of requests. Regardless if my day is still like today or chaotic like other days, my life fills me up. This life is greater than I ever imagined. I am so grateful for each second and so grateful for all the little things that make my cup run over.
So I had one of those Oprah “Ah-ha” moments today. I think it took a bunch of little things running together to help this “ah-ha” moment smack me in the brain and reach my stream of consciousness, but that is how these things work.
The beginning is always the best place to start. It all started in late December. Probably a bit in part to the hangover the holidays create. That is when I started to feel bogged down. There was a cough and wheezing that just hung on to my lungs with a white knuckled grip and just trying to take a walk up the stairs with a laundry basket had become tedious by late January. I went to the doctor, but after five days of antibiotics things weren’t kicking back into gear energy wise.
I could not for the life of me figure out what the heck was so draining. It was as if my gas tank was always on empty. I literally wanted to Netflix all day. Yes, Netflix is now a verb. A beautifully wonderful verb. It baffled me how this could be, but even sitting I wasn’t at rest. I was constantly berating myself for just sitting. I didn’t ever fully rest and relax.
The good news was that for the first time in as far as I could remember I was the most comfortable in my own skin. Best. Feeling. Ever. Don’t get me wrong, we all have days, but I feel like I am pretty darn awesome. It was a little boggling to me how I could feel so good and comfortable yet so tired and deflated at the same time.
This past Saturday, I finally had to be hit over the head with what I should have known all along, but that is what happens sometimes we have to be smacked upside the head to realize what is right in front of us.
Saturday morning has become one of my favorite mornings. My youngest son is playing in a basketball league that was created by several faith communities in our town. It is the single best league that I have ever been a part of in my life. They pray with the kids before the games and have a half time devotional.
On this particular Saturday, my favorite referee read the devotional. Listening intently as always, since these Saturday morning devotionals had become such a source of light in my life, he reads, “One cannot burn out if they weren’t on fire in the first place.”
Can I get an AMEN?
Enter “ah-ha” moment. These words stirred in me just the slightest mental shift. They shook me awake.
Holy, holy. I am on fire! We all are. We burn with divine light. Of course we feel burned out from time to time. Wouldn’t any fire feel that way? Wouldn’t any light get so hot that it would need to be dark just for a short while?
God doesn’t need me to rush and rush and rush without stopping ever. Life is meant to be enjoyed number one and number two God rested! On the seventh day he rested. The end. He didn’t go on and on about how he should add a little something extra to the world or show off by creating another Universe. Nope. He just rested. So why can’t I just rest? Do nothing all day and feel productive. Yes! If I am feeling the need to rest then I need it. Rest is being productive. Rest is the self-care we need to keep our flame burning.
I started to examine these periods of rest in my life. The times I always just thought there was something off about me because I would just want to crawl in bed for days and do nothing.
The first time this happened I came out of it and started my blog. I started writing again and choosing vulnerability and connection over perfection.
The second time this happened I came out of the rest ready to share my gift and start a business.
The last time this happened I came out of rest with a strong sense of self-worth and a peace my soul hadn’t known for years.
So what is this “ah-ha”moment that hit me – when we rest we rise. When we rest we can burn again. Our fire is ignited brighter and wiser than before.
I finally truly understand the saying when she wakes she will move mountains. Each time I wake from rest my life is stronger and richer. This time will be no different.
Rest my friends because when you rise you will move mountains.
Yes, yesterday I talked about the kindness revolution starting within all of us and today I am writing a blog titled Crabby Patty; the irony is not lost on me. Promise. No crossies.
There is just this itty bit of crabbiness that is lingering in me.
Maybe it’s because we can’t get out the door on time for school.
Maybe it’s literally hearing four “moms” at once every two minutes for 6 hours a day.
Maybe it’s that I am not exercising – and don’t get started with judgment on that one. I judge myself enough for a thousand judgements.
Maybe it’s the smiling happy moms that join together at school pick up and greet each other excitedly while I stand off by myself. I know I can join in. Come on you want to be the one that people walk up and say hi to, too. You don’t always want to initiate the contact, either.
Maybe it’s getting removed from the FedEx account at work and wondering if is this the beginning of the end for my job.
Maybe it is the messy playroom or the fact that for every one thing I clean up another seven things take its place. For the love of God, this is non-stop.
Maybe it’s the 23 piles of laundry every single week without fail. Even on vacation.
Maybe it’s spending too much time on social media and detached from real people.
Maybe it’s a lack of sleep.
Maybe it’s because my reading last night didn’t go as well as I wanted. And to top it off she was the sweetest client ever on the planet. She had the nicest things to say about me and I couldn’t give her what she expected.
Maybe it’s that I want to choose happiness and I am mostly happy, but there is just this nagging crabbiness and I don’t know what the heck is causing it.
Does this ever happen to you?
I feel it in my body. My shoulders won’t loosen and my jaw stays tight.
My husband is seeing it. He is being super extra nice and making a real effort to let me know I am appreciated. It is sweet and he is sweet. But I still feel crabby.
Thank goodness Winter Break is next week and I am taking time off, too. Maybe that is it. Maybe we all just need a little bit of a break.
Maybe it is the feeling that something big is coming and the anticipation waiting for it is driving me crazy.
Maybe it is because of a million things. Or maybe it is just a crabby patty kind of day.
It’s Friday afternoon and I am beyond looking forward to the weekend and a little relaxation. As I sit in this safe, cozy chair I want to bare my soul to you. See you my dear readers are family and friends who support me. You have come to mean a great deal to me as I journey to find my most authentic self.
Lately my life has felt like a ball of yarn that someone grabbed the free end of and let unravel all over a hard wooden floor. As I have tried to scoop it back up and wind into back into a neat, little ball I have done a great deal of praying and introspection.
Is this where I am supposed to be?
Was not teaching this year the right thing?
Should I have shut down my side business?
Am I making the right choices?
I waited for God or the Universe to answer me back, but there was only SILENCE. But I have deep faith, and I knew God would answer back. So I just kept patiently listening…show me which step is next. I thought of all the ways God could answer me. That is when I remembered my very first prayer on this journey of authenticity; I prayed for friends. God had answered with abundance as he usually does. So I started to think about what I was hearing from them.
Strung together they may still seem random to you, but to me it was all the answers I had been looking for.
I am going to back up a minute because I think the whole picture is important. For the last decade and a half, which is most of my adult life, I have been preparing for WHAT I was going to be; not ever really focusing in on the WHO I was. See I only lived on my own for two years out of college and the majority of that time I was dating my future husband and just starting my career as a teacher. We were married and in that first year of marriage I was pregnant and preparing for motherhood. We went on to have four kids in the next seven years. I was always preparing to be…
The twins were two before the haze of my life was starting to wear off. Don’t get me wrong I loved all the moments, but they moved by at warp speed and I was so busy being WHAT I was that I never did stop to define the WHO. Maybe this didn’t happen to you, maybe you had it all figured out. But I sure didn’t.
So when I started to try and find my authentic self to see who I was, I figured out a couple of things quickly. I wanted to make a difference, I wanted to have deep relationships and have a life with purpose. I thought that meant career, home, and self all at once. So I set out to do all the things.
And I did. I performed well at my full-time job, now in sales, but none the less I rose to the challenge of a new career and was executing it well. I was raising healthy, well-mannered, kind children. I had a solid partnership and loving marriage with my best friend. I started a side business that was beginning to flourish. And last, but certainly not least, I was writing. A dream I have had from a very young age and to my surprise people were reading my little blog. Slowly at first, but more and more with each passing year.
I really was doing it all and doing it well. But with so many balls in the air at once things were slipping and falling. Unfortunately, my focus was on the things that dropped, not the things that rose to the surface. I was just noticing the things that went wrong or didn’t get accomplished.
I was running on empty.
It was too fast. I was on a hamster wheel and I needed to get off.
Fear gripped me though. Wasn’t I supposed to fill up my life with the things I wanted? And I was successful, so why pull back? Outside looking in; I had it all. But…
I was in the worst physical shape of my life and nearing an emotional low. How was this happening?I had listened to my intuition and by some blessing or luck I was achieving all of my dreams. But the problem was in the whirlwind of doing it all I wasn’t actually enjoying them. So I have started stripping things down. If something didn’t feel right no matter the public humiliation or sense of failure at the time I stopped doing it.
I needed to put my oxygen mask on first.
Maybe saying no to soccer so we weren’t gone all afternoon was saying yes to the precious down time we needed to re-energize.
So I stripped it all away – learning the things I didn’t want to do.
I’m still a work in progress, but I knew being a mom was what I really wanted. So I chose to put my family first. I am home afterschool and at bedtime. If my kids need me, I drop what I am doing and make sure they get what they need.
I am also putting me first. I am trying to find my way back to running. I am writing again. I have made overdue dentist and doctor appointments and am trying acupuncture to put myself back together again.
I am also taking stock in my success. My mediumship gift is just that a gift. It belongs to me and God will continue to show me when and where to use it. If it is meant to be a business again when my kids are older it will be. Just because others are demanding it of me doesn’t mean I have to share or answer their demands. My family and myself need to come first. Each of us is a gift. We must nourish ourselves, too.
I was “fucking crazy” not to like myself. I may be an introvert and run and hide. But I am kind, hard-working, bright, determined, compassionate and contrary to what I said on an Internet questionnaire 10 years ago – I would LOVE to be my friend.
So the last of what I heard hit home, too. I know that what I am doing is the right thing. When I got to hold my friend’s infant son for the first time, I was “glowing” holding that baby. I felt a sense of peace wash over me. God was answering me. Yes, taking the time for my friends and family – this is right.
I can say no thank you or maybe later. I do not have to do all the things all at once.
So I guess what I am hoping to share with you all is…
If you can’t find or see your answers, don’t stop looking for them. Handle yourself with kindness. You have permission to NOT do all the things all at once or ever if you don’t want to.
A wise person always tells me, “You can do one thing really well, two things okay and three things not all.” It is okay to slow things down and focus on the one to two things you really want to do well; the rest will fall into place.
So this past Wednesday was hat day for the boys. Did this mom remember? Nope. No dice. Read the newsletter, too darn it!
So it is Wednesday morning and I am feeling a little pep in my step because BP is able to take both older kids to school and I get to walk the twins to kindergarten. Lovely. It is a good day for a good day.
We walk up to school and pass two kindergarten classes full of little ones in all different kinds of hats. The boys look up at me with funny looks. One says, “What is going on today?” Nothing registers. Not even a flicker.
Upon final approach to their class line we see that every single five-year-old head has a hat on it. Parents are taking pictures. It finally registers. “You guys it’s hat day.” I say thinking that it will register with them to. Their teacher had to have reminded them.
“What?” A little voice says with a puzzled look on his face.
“We didn’t know” A little blonde shakes from side to side and a frown starts to appear.
Crap. Double crap.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I forgot you guys. Do you want me to run home and get you hats?”
Their little dejected faces give them away even though they are trying to act like it doesn’t matter.
“No, it’s okay,” they both say.
They say good-bye and saunter in with the rest of their hat wearing classmates.
They are the ONLY two without a hat.
Crap! Double crap!
Mom guilt takes over and I speed walk home to get them some hats.
Now, hold on! Before you judge me let me break it down for you.
Exhibit A: These two boys have already moved schools twice because of me. They went to a different school starting the second week of school and by the fifth week of school were back at the first school all because of little old me.
Exhibit B: I am also one of the only moms that doesn’t help in class because I work I outside the home.
Exhibit C: And last but not least, I am relatively anti-social and don’t quite fit in with the trendy moms so my boys aren’t always invited to the class playdates.
We don’t have to be Matlock to see that I am justified in running back to the house to get those sweet little boys hats.
So I chose to go get the hats. So sue me.
I wanted them to remember that I brought them the hats and not that I forgot them in the first place.
Believe me, I know there are worse things, but mommy wars are real. The movie Bad moms, the new T.V. sitcom American Housewife not so super far-fetched. Maybe it extends it a bit, but it is there. So long story short, I brought the hats. And on top of that I felt pretty damn good about it.
Of course now I am panicking because I volunteered to bring Rice Krispie treats for the Harvest Festival and I bought pre-made store-bought ones; really they don’t want me to make them, but crap were they supposed to by fancy home-made ones?!
Yeah, first world problems I know. I know, really I do.
Anyway the day ended with mom fails #979, #980, #981 and #982. I mean there are no pictures because well, I forgot it was hat day.
In a few short weeks I will be 39. There are always two ways to look at your life…as a success or as a work in progress. A big chunk of my life is a work in progress and I am okay with that.
I went to school to become a teacher. It’s what I did after I graduated from college fifteen years ago. I have two credentials and a Master’s Degree in Education. When the twins started kindergarten I was going to go back to my calling – teaching. I have been in sales for the last ten years and it has provided well for my family, but I thought that when the time came I would go back to do what I was trained to do.
Well this year I learned that I no longer want to be a teacher. It only took a couple of hours in a classroom to remind me of that. I definitely don’t see me teaching in a classroom any time soon.
As most of you know, I also started a side business about 3 years ago. Well this year it was really taking off. I thought that was great because I was helping people. I love helping people. But what I wasn’t noticing was the toll it was taking. Working both day and night my husband and I became passing ships, I was missing a mountain load of bed times, and I was starting to miss family vacations, family gatherings were missed or cut short, I no longer could meet friends or participate in book club, and last but not least I was in the worst physical shape of my life. What woke me up was a couple of rude, unfortunate readings and I snapped. I was done. I never wanted to go out into the night to a stranger’s house ever again to only be hounded or ridiculed or spoken to with little respect. I wasn’t ever going to take precious time away from my family or myself to do that again. You can’t pay me enough to make that happen.
My family has to come first. I don’t want to high-five my husband as he walks in the door at night so that I can walk out. I don’t want to come in late and kiss sleeping kids. If there is one thing that I know is a success in my life it is my family. My husband and my four kids are the most beautiful, wondrous gifts in my life and that is putting it mildly. The time where we are all together under one roof is precious and short.
They have to come first and I must have the health and energy to be there for them, so I took a step back and shut down my side business. A lot of people were unhappy, but I have to put my family first. Their happiness is what matters.
I know I recently wrote about God asking us to go into the dark and shine our light, but I also know God wants us to shine our light into our own families. That is something that is of the utmost importance.
This is what is right for me right now. The world can wait, but my family – my family can not wait one more second. They were super supportive, but it was taking its toll and I won’t let it any more.
So my 39th year may be most selfish, but I think it needs to be. I am going to continue to work my sales job that I never knew I wanted, but that has taught me more about myself and other people than I ever expected all the while providing for my family. I am going to pour myself into my family and last but not least take better care of me. That is what matters.
I can’t do all the things, but I can do the MOST important things. So I am going to do what matters most. The rest can wait.
Have you ever been in a crowd and still felt so alone? Have you ever been loved and had friends, but still felt so disconnected?
Almost four years ago I made a conscious choice to live out loud and be more vulnerable; be my authentic self inside and out. That has changed my life immensely. But I still struggle with friendships. I know there is baggage that makes me insecure with them. I haven’t been able to completely off load that yet,but I am pretty darn close. Yet, I still feel disconnected and lonely. So I have started to examine that more closely. Why am I feeling this way? What I am doing that causes this disconnect?
For one, small talk is my weakness. Asking about the weather or talking about topics across the surface is like nails running across a chalkboard for me. I love deep, meaningful conversation. Discussions about politics, relationships, creation, heaven, anything with substance is what I would prefer to talk about.
Most people like to keep things light. Not everyone is interested in sharing their whole heart in every conversation. Experience has taught me that oversharing and openness isn’t always well received. So instead of the open, happy, fierce little girl I used to be; I have bottled up my intensity. I often feel awkward in social situations. I am of two minds; I want to just share and be open; be me. But the other half of me knows this might be too much for the other person and I will suffer heartache and feel so dejected if the person shies away from me the next time I see them. So instead I have become socially awkward, saying hi, but then not knowing what to say next. Choosing instead to sit away from the group. I know I am not broken because I am too intense, too emotional, my too much-ness is just right. My too much-ness is just who I am. But sometimes this too much-ness leaves me feeling so lonely and disconnected.
Maybe we all feel this way. Maybe we all just really want to scoop people up in hugs and love them something fierce. If you watch children they are vulnerable and open and just run up and hug each other. They talk and play easily. They accept one another without question, until they are older and other people’s judgements have been handed down to them. But before that, in the innocent beginnings of childhood they just accept and love each other something fierce.
Maybe too, motherhood is just lonely. Maybe working motherhood is even lonelier. When your plate is so full with pick-ups, drop offs, housework, homework, laundry, cooking, email, conference calls, laundry (I know I said laundry again damn soccer jerseys and P.E. uniforms and favorite outfits that have to be cleaned and running out of underwear faster than you can keep up with) and practices, performances, games, and everything else in between just doesn’t leave time to make meaningful connections.
I try to make connections, but I just feel awkward, shaky, uncoordinated in my attempts. I can be me with others, but then I pull back worried my too much-ness will scare away the natives.
The smoothness of other people’s interactions boogles my mind. The ease with which they jump in and out of conversation, remember introductions, remember each other’s names even! I swear my mom brain decided people’s names are not necessary to its survival so every night when I sleep it deletes them. I have begged and pleaded with my mind to stop doing this, it is quite embarrassing and it is very detrimental to my interactions with other civilized people, but it is still not listening. So I watch in amazement with the ease of other people’s conversations. And if I do connect; I make the mistake of sharing a story of how I relate. So stupid. Such a poor way to connect. But it’s what tumbles out of my mouth first because I am nervous, maybe even because I am so nervous about saying the wrong thing; it is what comes naturally for me – saying the wrong thing. So then I think throughout the whole conversation “don’t talk, don’t talk for the love of God woman stop talking.” It doesn’t always work. I have told you my mind doesn’t listen to my instructions. Sometimes I talk anyway against better judgement and then feel angst about it for days later.
Does this happen to you, too? Do you feel too much? Do you feel disconnected? Do you pull back as to not overwhelm others with how much you like them or want to know them?
I meet people and instantly know I want to be their very best friend. But as an adult that means getting to know them better, arranging interactions, all that takes time. I just want to scoop them up and say let’s be forever friends you and me right there on the spot. I want to be my childlike self and hug them on site every day. Go right to talking about the stuff that matters and just be friends without all the time spent getting acquainted. Time is short on this earth and I opt into the childlike way of making friends, but most adults aren’t as keen with that option and my too much-ness is over powering. So I decide instead to hold back and hide my intensity.
I have great friends; I have bonded and connected with amazing people. But I still hold back. I still feel awkward about showing up and being seen. Maybe it’s just time to let go and not worry about scaring people away because the right ones will stay. The right ones will stay and love you something fierce back.
Watch out people; this girl is done holding back. This girl is tired of feeling lonely and disconnected. Plus I think we need to all be loved something fierce right now, anyway. So I think I am going to do just that. You will be the first to know if it backfires on me. I will let you know how it goes. Watch out world here I come.
In a weeks time I have written about bravery and grace and just being okay with the falls we experience in life and yet no matter how much I try there is an undercurrent of fear in my heart.
It’s okay to be scared right? Lately I am scared of everything. Okay longer than lately; it started when I was born. I think I was born with extra sensitivity to the world and somehow that made me more afraid of the world; well maybe not the world, but the energy and emotions in it.
I am scared of the little and the big things.
For starters, I am scared that no matter how much I empty my heart and pour it into my writing that this blog will continue to be nothing more than a diary that is more important to me than anyone else, which is okay, but I want to be a writer so much it hurts. So much that sometimes I run and hide from my own writing and I don’t write because no matter how hard I try or much I write it will never be good enough for anyone else to read.
I am scared that no matter how much I know that God loves me and believes that I am enough; I will never feel like I am enough. That the weight I continue to feel will only continue to grow – this weight that I feel has already manifested itself into the weight that I carry and I can feel myself waving the white flag as I am crushed somewhere underneath it all. I am scared that no matter how much I want to be seen; that no one really sees me at all.
I stopped watching the news a decade ago because if it hurt my heart then it definitely could damage my tiny son’s ears and heart, too. So off went the news, because I was so scared and my heart was so hurt by the toxins that spewed from it. There had to be better things to report. But now when we are praising men for sitting during our national anthem, when our police officers are seen as the criminals and men are shot in the street for the color of their skin and whole groups of people are killed around the world for their ethnicity or beliefs and our leaders seem filled with more darkness than light maybe there isn’t better news to report. And that is scary. So scary that when I think about the world I am terrified that no matter how kind I am or how much good I try to put into the world that the darkness in it will swallow me up whole and not just me, everything that I hold sacred; everything and everyone that I love.
Scared doesn’t begin to describe how I feel about being a parent. Failing seems to be the name of the game. I know I have taught them manners and I know they are the kids that will help other kids and be kind; that part of life I think they understand. They are really great kids. But this year my kindergarteners have been kicked, choked, pushed, shoved, yanked and called names with words I don’t even allow out of my own mouth. My daughter continues to try to navigate a place where mean is the norm. That scares the crap out of me. I have had to teach them how to fend for themselves and that shouldn’t even exist at their age. What in the heck is happening in the world that our children are behaving this way? This scares me to death. Haven’t we come to be a civilized people where we don’t have to fear for our lives every time we walk out into the world?
The chaos is gobbling up the innocence of our world. The chaos and darkness are pushing out the light at a fierce pace and I can’t help but feel helpless. And that terrifies me. How can I help my own children understand a world that scares the shit out of me? Scares me to the point that I can’t read the news anymore either, because what I read leaves me shaky and nauseous.
Yesterday as we drove home from school the kids started to talk about how they feel things they can’t see. How the current of energy runs through them. Other people’s energy. This scares me to death. They are like me, extra feel-y. I still struggle with not letting other people’s energy invade my space, my emotions, my thoughts. How am I going to teach my littles not only how to fend off actual physical threats but also emotional, maybe even spiritual ones too? They feel this same unbalanced chaotic energy in the world that I do and can’t explain how or why it is hurting them.
I know we have to go forward and love one another and do good and continue to live our lives to the fullest and that the darkness wins when we feel fear, but sometimes that isn’t enough to stop me from feeling it. Sometimes I am engulfed in fear and feel shaky all day.
I know people who the absolute worst has happened in their lives and they continue to take one step forward; sometimes because life forces them to, but they do it. I am inspired by that and I know that despite my fear that I will continue on as I have been and do my best to do good any way, but I feel better admitting the fear.
Maybe if we are afraid together something good can come of that. Maybe acknowledging the fear leads to a way to face those things we fear and conquer them. Maybe…
My heart is heavy tonight as I write my life lessons post for late June/half way through July, but I still felt this need to write so here I am.
I am going to start with the heavy.
We need to pray people…
France, Dallas, Baton Rouge, the whole globe. We need to take a moment and pray.
We ate out tonight and the family at the table next to us bowed their heads and prayed and offered gratitude before their meal. I was struck by how this simple act was so profound and healing.
We need to pray.
We need to lean in together and pray. No color, all religious preferences, all sexual orientations, just gather as humans and pray for one another.
And now on to the lighter side of things just because I feel like if I keep thinking about the heavy and the world my children may inherit if things don’t change I don’t know what…
Where does the title legit come from? Well, I have this awesome friend, Cristal and she is always saying how things are “legit” and well life lessons and life in general are just legit; I mean you can’t get more real than every day life.
We need to laugh people…
Laughter is truly the best medicine for the soul. We need to laugh and play and just enjoy the moments that we do have when we can. (Sometimes you have kids crying and shit is legit and you cannot laugh at that moment, but you will laugh later and that is the thing to remember…laugh when you can laugh). For example, one of the twins locked themselves in the bathroom 4 years ago and then seriously did it again this week. I was quick to laugh because I learned from that first lesson and that nifty little key to unlock the door this time was a life saver.
But a couple of suggestions if I may…
Download Snap Chat and play with it. My son thinks I am whack because I don’t post anything on Snap Chat, I have it just for the filters. And I say so what?! Because seriously I have never laughed so hard. And really do I need another place to post crap?
Because that is too legit to quit…am I right?
And play like a kid because sometimes it is just freeing and fun…
Billy Beez, I highly recommend it. It’s legit.
The family that dabs together stays together…
Enough said, because they did this over and over and over and laughed and laughed.
Even dogs get excited to order Starbucks…
Seriously, I think that dog ordered a latte and a lemon scone. I hope he paid for the car behind him, because random acts of kindness are legit.
Wear the crazy leggings…
So I know, LuLaRoe is kinda cray, cray the way people hunt and shop and talk about unicorns. You don’t have to get sucked all the way in…but those buttery soft leggings, I mean, I pull those on and I feel 12 all over again. It’s the 90s with Full House and Rave Hairspray. And that is worth $25 and a little embarrassment when you are wearing them at the grocery store right?
But mostly do what it takes to get through…
Life is not fair. I know I have first world problems, but I empathize and understand that a lot of people do not. I know that things can be so hard. I deal with death on a daily basis and I know first hand what shattered lives look like. I know. I do.
I think we each have to do what we can to get through. To find our way.
For me, it’s knowing that I will teach my children to leave a place better than you found it, use their manners, do their best, chase their dreams and always help the person up behind them. To listen to other people’s stories.
I will work to make sure they take responsibility for their actions and pitch in and help out wherever they can. To teach them understanding and compassion in a world that so desperately needs it. And mostly to love them. But also to love my life and set the example. To be a person who shows not tells. To be a person that is afraid, but lives life any way.
And these sweet faces help keep me legit. Two of these faces turn 6 tomorrow. Two of these faces are closer to being a teen than a kid. All five of these faces are the best parts of my life. All five of these faces can drive me absolutely bat shit crazy and at the same time make my heart explode with adoration and unconditional love. These five faces get me through each day…
I know I can hear your cheers through the computer and yes, it is a miracle.
Well I guess because the twins are going to officially be big kids and we have been pretty busy up in our hizouse that I have a lot that I feel I need to share. I know I over share people…that is beside the point.
Any way back to my over sharing; I wanted to let you in on some more stuff that I am learning this month…
I talk too much. No for realsies…I really, really do. I am going to start carrying duct tape in my purse or on my person at all times. I think I will get some of the cute kind from Hobby Lobby though. Enough said.
I am passionate about education and yet I always feel under-educated to share my opinion on things.I speak from the heart and what feels right from experience. I should probably stack up some facts and research to back those feelings up before I go spouting them off. It’s just a thought. Don’t get too nervous for me.
Parenting is serious business people. It is daily marathons without any training or experience. This shit is for realsies. Like for real, for real. I have been peed on, pooped on, spit up on, thrown up on and scariest of all hovered over in the dark and scared to death by a child whispering “mom” in the middle of the night. That is some creepy-deepy stuff right there.
I have felt more joy and pain that I ever believed capable by a human heart all due to my children. But I have to say having four small humans all upset at you because of the choices you made as a parent sucks big time.
Mind you I know that if they are all upset at me I am most likely nailing it. All four mad at me that is a 100% success rate in the parenting world. I know you’re jealous. Don’t worry you can do it, too. If I can do it, so can you. Plus it was super easy, I just made them do homework, clean and help out instead of playing on their iPad/Video games and they lost their minds! Can’t say it didn’t sting a bit though to have them all gang up and be angry at me at once. With good friends to vent to and cocktails it is survivable. Also, learned that from experience. Just saying.
Having friends that you can pour your heart out to even if it is crazy nonsense like why do I care if my kids are all unhappy with me because I make them do their homework is absolutely priceless.Find your tribe and hang on for dear life because your people, friends who will hold you up and tell you the truth; they are invaluable. I mean I called a friend yesterday as I hid in the closet from my children just to vent about my crazy mom life and I can’t thank you enough for always having my back and always, always telling me like it is. Find your people. Hold on to them. Invaluable. Got it? Okay, next thing I am learning. Ready. Go.
When your parents are the absolute best people on the planet; let them know it.I already knew this before but being a parent really drives it home. I mean they are serious proof that you can survive your own children.
I have called my mom numerous times to apologize to her when my own kids have served up karma right in my face. I am sure I need to apologize to my dad too. You raised three girls, and I am learning girls have mad attitude, those are some serious survival skills, Dad. You made it through three girls. Mad props to you. Thank you for being amazing and still being my biggest fan. I am a lucky girl.
Last one, see I started with I talk too much to prepare you – see that now?
I am literally living on hope and faith and pixie dust these days. I make mistakes and learn. But one thing I have learned is that I am not too proud to ask for do-overs when I can. Whether it’s admitting I did something I shouldn’t of to my kids or asking for a do over from a friend; it is worth the ask.
Exhibit A. Sunday our family was at the Unravel 5K Family Fun Run and the kids complained all morning about every little thing trying to get out the door. It must have been too early for them on a Sunday. Any way by the time we get there I am doing everything possible to hold it together to try and SHOW them how they should behave and that they should be grateful that we are here to support this cause.
Two separate friends come over to say hi. And I said a very quick hi to them. Well once everything was calm I realized I was probably kind of snappy to them so I found them both and asked for a do-over hello. It went awesome and I felt much better. I am sure they did to. There is that saying people will always remember how you made them feel and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t made anyone else feel bad just because we (my kids and I) were having a bad morning. But it all worked out okay.
So I talk to much; I am working on that one. It’s a hard one for me. You are still reading this so it can’t be all that bad, right?
In a nutshell:Remember this too shall pass and keep living the dream.
Peace (And I mean that in the true 1990s since of the word)-
So I haven’t done a lessons post in awhile; I worry they are too preachy. I worry a lot. But you already know that. But I figured there are some things going on in my head these days that I have found a tad helpful that you might like to hear, too.
1. I am a notorious cancel-er…I mean I am worse than ABC right now. I try to juggle the balls of life and I tell you what I drop them like they are hot! I schedule get togethers or try to host things and then people say they will show up and then I am a terrible reminder or a date has to change because of a school function and then no one can come. So it ends up getting cancelled. I think I am going to just stop planning things ahead of time. It just isn’t possible with kids, school functions, work, sports, and sleep. So if you want to see me, people who know where I live, stop by with wine or coffee and I will start-up the fire pit and we will hang. I am a home body so I will be here. That is it, that is the deal from now on. You are invited always and we can hang here whenever since I am not planning any more get togethers. This is easier – flying by the seat of our pants kind of works around here so now I am applying it to hanging out with friends as well.
2. I am back on the wagon people. My fit bit thinks it has been stolen. I am on day 5 of exercise and have won badges and all kinds of fit bit announcements. It seriously didn’t know it had to work this hard with me. Of course I am waiting to weigh myself for several weeks because even though I am attempting to eat better there are occasions where chocolate peanut butter shakes or a scoop of ice cream may make it into the vicinity of my stomach. But sanity is important and these things keep me sane and happy so they stay.
3. Tomorrow’s aren’t guaranteed; we all know that. So my advice and the lesson that I am learning is don’t wait. Try the new thing. Get the Henna tattoo even if they are for kids. Seriously that is it – just do the fun thing. The car that spun out of control and almost hit me as I waited at a stop light just reaffirmed that there are no guarantees.
4. Find good people. I am so blessed. I have found amazing people. I have a tribe of friends and family that help with kids, listen to me whine, save the day, forgive me, and most of all love me just as I am. They are all authentic, kind, funny amazing people and I seriously could not do this life without them. My bunco group is the best group of gals around. I LOVE you all soooooo much! And to the moms that can make my day with just one look, you know you are, thank you!
5. A girl who changes her hair is ready to change her life…I died my hair pink. Not my whole head mind you; just a few highlights here and there. Many of you know this already, but I am sharing because the feedback has been mostly positive. And even the one day when I had to see my friend’s parents with pink hair and I felt 16 all over again, they were super awesome about it which reminded me that I AM an adult. Even adults dye their hair crazy colors sometimes. But seriously, go for it. If it is something you have always wanted to do and have not; if you can (providing it is workplace acceptable) go for it! P.S. pink does fade, but it was AWESOME while it lasted.
See you all want hang out with me. I know, I know. I am a pretty cool introvert. Don’t worry there is a lot of room around the fire pit.
I hope you are all hanging in there and living the dream.
P.S. Enjoy the sweet moments in life, too. I can’t believe I have one summer left until these two are in school all day! I literally just threw up a little thinking about it.
No, no I am not going to be writing about alcohol and children.
I wanted to take a moment and address the question that I get on a n almost daily basis which is “Michelle, my son/daughter sees spirits what should I do? How do I handle this?”
To be honest, I have no idea. (Insert sarcastic font). I know I am a great help and very comforting; it’s a gift and a curse. (End sarcastic font). But when it comes to parenting if you have read the other entries in this blog you know I am flying by the seat of my pants.
Don’t get me wrong; I am a good parent and I do my best, but I make mistakes like everyone else that is the name of this parenting game. The other gotcha is that what works for my kids and my family might not work for your kids and your family. On top of that what works for one child may not work for another child. There is more than one answer and more than one right way to help a child.
Which leads me back to why I have no idea what to say when you ask me how to respond to your child when they are experiencing spirit. There is more than one right answer and you know your own child and family dynamic better than I do. There is not one answer that fits the bill.
What I will try to do is share with you things that have helped me along the way and maybe they will help guide you to finding the answer you seek.
1. It is my belief that 90% of imaginary friends are not imaginary. This is just a good rule of thumb. When I was two a man would be in my room or around me often. Like any good parent; my parents would often check things out and tell me nothing was there. But I saw someone; someone who was as real to me as they were. Sometimes it is helpful to get more information before you discount what might be possible.
2. Listen – if your child feels like you are a good sounding board then they will tell you everything. This is a good thing. I know having someone to talk to saved me. It is freeing to have someone to confide in and you definitely feel less alone.
3. Try not to knock it – you may not want to draw too much attention to it; but don’t tell them it isn’t possible. They truly are experiencing something real if they are telling you about it. They are also scared and trying to navigate through what they are experiencing. If you discount it then they feel as if there is something wrong with them.
4. Let them know they have the power – Make sure your child knows they have the power to ask any spirit to leave them alone. Children often think they have to listen or are at the will of someone who is older than them. Make sure that they know they have the power to pray for help or even ask a spirit to leave them alone. They are the king/queen of their domain here on Earth and they can ask any spirit to leave them alone for any reason.
5. Take away the fear – sometimes just letting a child know that most of the spirits that visit them are loved ones or guardians can help make them less afraid of the unknown. If you have pictures of ancestors get them out and let your kids take a look. You might be surprised at who they are able to recognize and tell you about.And this helps them to recognize who they might be seeing helping them to be less afraid.
6. Love them – you know your child, your belief system of your family best. Follow your intuition and it will guide you to the right things to say and do for your child.
These tips helped me and they are things I use with my own children. Hopefully this gives those of you that have asked me this question additional guidance.
Kintsugi is the centuries old Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold.
My heart was shattered by autism on July 25, 2011.
“Your son’s delays are consistent with autism spectrum disorder, and we recommend you enroll him immediately in our intensive in-home autism preschool program.”
That word. Autism. Six letters punched me in my gut and knocked the wind out of me. The edges of the room blurred and the evaluator’s voice faded into static as my brain desperately tried to process this information. I nodded and appeared to listen, but I was frozen. It was like a movie where the character leaps and hangs suspended in perfect form while everything else continues at normal speed.
My husband Scott and I brought our son Matthew to be evaluated at our county’s early intervention school campus. Matthew was 22 months old. He had been a happy, outgoing baby; he started talking around his first birthday. I worried when his words vanished six months later. He began melting down in large, echoing rooms full of people and in large crowds. He stopped responding to his name and was happy playing alone as long as we’d let him.
Matthew’s behaviors raised alarming red flags and a cold fear settled into the pit of my stomach. I am a general education teacher, and in 2004 I wrote my master’s degree thesis paper on reading instruction for autistic children. I became fascinated by autism after having several students on the spectrum, and I intensely studied what was known about it at the time. This is why I recognized it so quickly in Matthew.
Even though I knew a lot about autism and taught autistic children, I was not prepared to hear that word used to describe my own child. I was confused about what I did wrong to allow this to happen. Had I missed some prenatal vitamins? Had I inhaled toxic fumes while we remodeled our house during my pregnancy? Did hitting his head as an infant cause damage to the part of the brain responsible for speech? I stupidly thought devoting my career to helping children learn would protect my own children from disabilities. Of course that is illogical reasoning; dentists can get cavities, oncologists can have cancer, and teachers can have children with special needs. Knowledge does not equal protection. However irrational it was, this false and naive belief intensified my grief.
Matthew’s days were immediately filled with behavioral, speech, and occupational therapies. His particular intervention program required intensive parent involvement; we found ourselves in a crash course of parenting a child with developmental delays. We learned to use icons to help Matthew communicate, activities and games to help him learn to follow directions, what his sensory needs were, and how to anticipate and respond to his frustration when he was not understood. Autism is a spectrum disorder with many subcategories of deficits and behaviors ranging from mild to severe; it doesn’t look the same in any two individuals. Therapy interventions felt like the “Whack-a-Mole” game we played as kids; we tried everything we could in this precious window of early intervention and desperately prayed our efforts would help the delays we already knew about and buffer against ones yet to emerge.
Autism was not part of my plan, and my organized and particular personality chafed against this unexpected detour. My older daughter Faith was starting kindergarten and needed me. I wanted to volunteer in her classroom on my days off and I still had my teaching career to tend to. I did not have time to drop everything and have therapists in our home five days a week. When I took Matthew to the park, birthday parties, church, or anywhere with children his age, I saw his peers flourishing in speech, responding to their names, following directions, and doing many other things taken for granted as developmental milestones. I felt sad, frustrated, and angry that wasn’t happening for Matthew and bristled at the unfairness of it all. These feelings quickly segued into depression. I scolded myself to end the pity party, to stop comparing him to others. I’d be paralyzed by anxiety and panic at the oddest times. One night in the shower, I felt crushed by thoughts such as “It’s time to wake up from this bad dream. I just can’t do this.” I reached my breaking point that spring and after talking to one of my pastors, realized I needed to stop suppressing my feelings and find a way to express and process them. I had to take care of myself in order to take care of my family. I started seeing a counselor for talk therapy.
My broken heart began transforming into Kintsugi. So many people poured gold into those cracks, so much that I had gold to share with other cracked hearts.
Our “first responders” were an incredibly gifted and caring team of Early Start professionals. They worked with Matthew and supported our family with a bottomless well of patience, sensitivity, humor, and compassion.
Our local family members mobilized to make sure we had our childcare and transportation needs covered. They were also grieving Matthew’s diagnosis but they all rose (and continue to rise) to his challenges with loving determination.
My church’s preschool bent over backward to include Matthew in a typical class two afternoons a week, completely covering the cost of a 1-1 shadow. The church’s special needs ministry was immediately there to support Matthew in Sunday School. Ironically, my interest in autism led me to help organize this ministry before it became a part of my personal life. I agreed to chair “Donovan’s Door” ministry for two years and connected with many inspirational families in our community. It was heartwarming how many youth and adults volunteered to work with Matthew and other children with special needs on a weekly basis and also at quarterly respite nights.
I’m a better second grade teacher because of Matthew. I considered myself a kind and caring teacher up until 2011, but autism opened my eyes wider to understanding children’s struggles and achievements. I know behavior is communication; this forced my patience to blossom in a way it could not have if Matthew could speak. My teacher experience with special education, Individualized Education Plans (IEPs), and the “system” helps me navigate them as a parent, and my parent experience helps me understand them as a teacher. I empathize with my students’ parents as we all muddle our way through trying to do our best. I know the fear of admitting something is “off” and the instinctual parent guilt we carry. Most parents appreciate how deeply I care for their children and feel we are a team. Their gratitude and trust humbles and reminds me why I teach, because that is how I feel about Matthew’s team. Many gifted and compassionate teachers, therapists, and aides have been part of Matthew’s village since our days in Early Start.
We benefit from living near two powerhouse autism research universities, Stanford and the University of California, Davis. Matthew received thorough testing and groundbreaking therapies for free that would have cost thousands of dollars otherwise. It feels good to know we are helping these dedicated doctors and scientists slowly piece together a complicated puzzle.
Friends showered us with words of support and offers of help. Anytime I share something about Matthew and/or autism on Facebook, the comments buoy my spirits. Autism brought new friends into our lives that we never would have met had his trajectory continued on the typical path.
I received the book Bloom by Kelle Hampton as a gift. Kelle’s second daughter was unexpectedly born with Down syndrome, and I was moved by her memoir about her grief of losing her imagined child and her path to finding beauty in a new reality. I started following her blog “Enjoying the Small Things.” A year later, I entered Matthew in Infantino/Step 2 Company’s 2013 “Everybody Plays” model search after Kelle blogged about her involvement in the campaign. Matthew won a spot in “Everybody Plays,” and my family flew to San Diego for the photo shoot. The whole thing was surreal and thrilling, from the modeling to seeing his photo in one of their ads. It was an honor to represent the special needs community with this toy company. But for me, the most valuable part was meeting Kelle. We had a strong connection in the short time we met and she injected my soul with resilience.
I also found an amazing blog written by Chrissy Kelly, a Fresno, California mom of two boys with autism. Reading “Life with Greyson and Parker” became a cherished part of my mornings. I felt as if Chrissy reached into my mind, took out the jumbled up thoughts, and transformed them into beautifully eloquent words. Her vulnerable honesty resonated with me so I reached out to her through e-mail. We corresponded and met in person a few months later. Before autism became a part of my life, I could not imagine connecting with unfamiliar moms online and drawing such strength and comfort from their witness.
Unexpected gold also seeped into my cracked heart. My husband and I had always dreamed of having two children. After Faith was born in 2006 and Matthew in 2009, we agreed our family was complete. As they grew, we gradually gave away or donated clothes, toys, and assorted gear families amass when babies come into the picture. I felt a blend of nostalgia and relief giving baby things away. I loved raising babies, but I was glad to be done with the nausea and discomforts of pregnancy. I happily welcomed full nights of sleep back into my life and I looked forward to the day when we were done with diapers. When friends teasingly asked me if we wanted more children, I’d laugh yet firmly say, “NO!”
Two years into our autism journey with Matthew, we saw that for all his progress he was still nonverbal and considered on the “severe” end of the spectrum. My husband and I considered the benefits of another child in our family. We painstakingly discussed the “what ifs” and decided to try. After one miscarriage, I carried a healthy baby boy to term and he arrived after a short labor on June 25, 2014. We chose the name “Tobin” for our third child, meaning “God is good.” Toby completes our family; I cannot imagine us without him. He is full of love, joy, curiosity, energy, and personality.
My dear friend Michelle, the author of this blog, helped me make the biggest breakthrough with Matthew. When she was at my home one day I said something to Matthew and she gave me a surprised look as she exclaimed, “I just heard him answer you!” If you are choosing to read this, I am going to assume you already know about Michelle’s incredible gift of communicating with spirit and know the authenticity of what she does. I had never considered that she might be able to communicate with a nonverbal living person, and I am not sure she had either! She later came back and listened to Matthew respond to questions I asked. I was moved to tears by the deep feelings, wisdom, and tenacity of my precious son. I got a glimpse into what it is like for him to live with autism; I learned how to better meet his physical and emotional needs. I know he is all too aware of what goes on around him and he can pick up on nonverbal cues and feelings better than most “normal” people. People sometimes talk about Matthew in front of him like he isn’t there or doesn’t understand; I think it’s a false assumption that a nonverbal child doesn’t “get it.” That drove me crazy anyway, but Michelle’s reading of Matthew lit a fire under me to be an even better advocate for my son. Matthew is smart, he is caring, and he feels everything so intensely that he has had to devise coping strategies just to get through each day. Those behaviors may seem odd to the untrained eye, but they all serve a purpose.
Above all else, Matthew knows he is loved. Words seem inadequate to express my gratitude to Michelle, for helping me know Matthew better and for her willingness to try something different than what she was used to doing as a medium.
For years, the word “autism” made me scared, angry, overwhelmed, and stressed, but now it makes me thankful for the unexpected blessings it brings. I can’t lie and say that every day is easy and that I still don’t get frustrated or worry for the future. But I imagine if my life had continued on the “neurotypical route” and I shudder to think of everything I’d be missing if had my route not been recalculated.
That’s the beauty of Kinsugi. The pottery is made even more beautiful because those flaws have been visibly healed.
“Not only is there no attempt to hide the damage, but the repair is literally illuminated…” — Christy Bartlett, Flickwerk: The Aesthetics of Mended Japanese Ceramics
Thank you for letting me share my illuminated heart with you today.
Let’s start at the beginning. It was one of the days where I woke up feeling like I was going to crush it. I was dressed, ready, lunches were made on time and my husband was taking all the kids to school. I had my 8:00 team conference call and was set and ready to go.
Of course, during the call I get thrown the loop of speaking because a teammate lost her voice, but that doesn’t throw me because I know the topic and it’s my team I can talk with them without feeling like I am going to screw it up.
Mistake Number 1.
I was too confident.
Some constructive criticism is given about a new feature being developed and I answered in a way that didn’t sound helpful. Then when I asked if there were any other questions the line was silent and I quipped that I scared everyone off because of how I reacted. This is all in fun of course because everyone on my team knows there was no malice behind my response.
But then this starts it off…
The theme of the call quickly turns to everything being my fault. And to be honest this year it has definitely felt like I have had an abnormal number of screw ups and mishaps. I had already been wondering why everything seemed to have so many hiccups…it just seems like each day there is something that goes awry whether professionally, personally, or both.
What kinds of things????
My husband has had a ton of unexpected changes at work.
We have had stomach flu, the flu, and been to urgent care and the emergency room all this year. Mind you 2016 has only included 10 weeks.
I am more forgetful than ever. We had tickets to Disney on Ice with my family – spaced it. Totally forgot. There was a birthday party for one of my son’s very best friend’s tonight – work got crazy, Brian took the care unexpectedly to get tires, I was on the phone the majority of the day and at 7:00 tonight at the end of dinner I remembered that we had the party – which by the way had ended an hour earlier.
Last night I threw a clothes party and the location had been moved. I thought I notified everyone, NOPE. I forgot to tell one person. She went to the wrong place because…yep you guessed it; it was my fault. And that I hurt someone’s feelings, that I had made someone feel so left out just because I can’t keep who I texted and included on the group text straight…it just isn’t okay! Awful…just plain awful.
So tonight as I was feeling like the biggest jerk ever, but trying to keep the perspective that even though I had forgotten things, been sick, and trying to let things go; I walked up the stairs to see dog diarrhea on the landing. Thankfully husband cleaned it up, but still which dog was it? The dog I added to our family of course, so once again it was my fault.
Well the thing of it is I can linger in the bizaster of it all (blizzard + disaster = a big, hug disaster) or I can look at the bright side and say at least I am doing “it’s my fault” well. I mean this is the Shit Storm of 2016 and I am at least surfing through it with a positive attitude so far. If it is my fault at least I am failing big and not little, right. 🙂 That all I can do is try and laugh through it because I can’t change what has happened. I can try to fix things moving forward with apologies and not making the same mistakes again, but I have to keep on the bright side of things right?
So, with all that said I will be wearing this shirt to my next team meeting …
And drinking out of this mug next week…
And setting so many reminders on my stinking calendar that if you pass me I will be buzzing because a reminder will be going off.