tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010364374688228382024-02-19T20:52:03.839-06:00My Life in ContradictionsStories about me and my life, in all its stream of consciousness glory!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-82775129242767628332017-12-27T20:27:00.001-06:002017-12-27T20:29:52.265-06:00LIfe and deathMy mother in law is dying. We visited her over Christmas, spent 2 days at the nursing home with her, and had to deal with goodbyes that included "this is the last time I'll see you". My daughters were distraught. My husband was ... well, given the kids' reactions, we didn't get to talk a lot about him.<br />
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To back up a minute, let me tell you that my mother in law is a pretty horrible woman. She damaged her children over the course of their childhoods and continued the damage and manipulation into their adult lives. When I came into the picture and started introducing my husband to the concepts of boundaries and non-engagement in family triangulation, it pissed his mom off to no end. Between that and the fact that I married her only son, the Crown Prince, I assumed she would hate me. But for some unknown reason, she adored me. I used to joke that when she came to visit she acted like she wanted to sit on my lap and pet me. That was never going to happen but I was polite, I was kind, and I maintained my boundaries. She would lay into my husband, she would say horrible things to him in person or on the phone, but nothing in front of me.<br />
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Over the past ten years, her physical condition has gone downhill - some undefined neuropathy started in her feet and has traveled up her body, and started compromising her speech. Earlier this year they finally diagnosed her with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). Finally, my father in law's doctors convinced him he couldn't be her 24/7 caregiver any longer and she went to a nursing home. She only has some minimal control of her left hand now and has almost entirely lost her ability to speak. And she is hugely frustrated with that. Which I understand. If I had my brain but no ability to engage with anyone, my head would explode. And it is a perfect example of karma biting a person in their ass as my mother in law has done so much damage with her words over her lifetime that this is a particularly cruel end.<br />
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And so, she now has a respiratory infection and is not expected to last the night. It would be a merciful end. Quite frankly, based on our time there over Christmas, I think she'd agree that it's time to go. It has made me think about life and death and our perceptions of the terminally ill - we all feel bad for her, no doubt, but we also assume all these sweet and nostalgic feelings coming out of her. But I was reminded that her mind is just as it always was when she whined and cried at nurses when she wasn't getting what she wanted, when she yelled at my father in law for having the nerve to talk to someone else while she was talking to my husband and me, and she glared or rolled her eyes at certain times when she didn't like what was being said to her. The horrible woman is still in there. And yet I feel compassion for her. So I rubbed her legs and held her hand and talked to her for two full days, and I hope her time on earth in this condition is as pain free as possible and short.<br />
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Two days observing the world in a nursing home and all the thoughts that were triggered about my own opinions about end of life matters, combined with all the complicated feelings that swirl in my husband's family gave me a lot to think about. I am not nearly proficient enough in deep talk to express how all this makes me feel, but I'm convinced there is nothing that is black and white in this world. Even life and death exist in shades of gray. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-86451218038899707622017-10-15T11:12:00.000-05:002017-10-15T11:12:01.253-05:00Back for more,,,Hello blog!<br />
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I am a writer who has not been writing. Lots of reasons for that and excuses for why I haven't made time, but screw the monkey chatter that thinks I needed a new blog or a different platform. Why not just add a new iteration of this stream of consciousness blog? And with that, here I am.<br />
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Last weekend I was talking with an intuitive reader at a weekend retreat. She talked about a lot of interesting things but the thing that drew my focus was when she mentioned the difference between discussing a personal issue vs. sharing vs venting vs. complaining. So when I get together with my girlfriends, we invariably talk about whatever issues we all have -- most of us have no other friends with whom we can discuss these things and life doesn't get any easier, so our reunions are rife with struggles and trials.<br />
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Some issues need discussion - there are times I want feedback. I applied for a big promotion last year and it came after a serious discussion of pros and cons with these ladies. But not all matters are open for discussion, are they? Sometimes I just want to tell my story and be heard. Be loved and supported by these women I love dearly and respect highly. Makes good sense to me, but in reality these women are so smart and so competent and so powerful in their own right that everything tends to be a discussion .... ideas, experiences, books read on the subject, and way too much SHOULD and COULD and "here's what you need to do" comes pouring out. It's overwhelming and has a major chilling effect on me. When I share (if I share) I have begun to preface what I'm saying in a way that makes crystal clear what response is allowed. Healthy solution or defensive wall?<br />
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And then there is venting vs complaining. The way the reader described the difference was brilliant - it is totally ok to vent at times, but when we keep harping on the same complaints over and over, friends need to just check us with a quick "shut the f*^% up already". Vent - release the stress of whatever is grating - and then move on. Continued complaining is either a bad habit that makes you negative and tiresome, or a sign that you need to change something.<br />
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Food for some introspection, hm?<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-57435128377104763982013-12-10T11:10:00.003-06:002013-12-10T11:10:36.693-06:00My Arch-Enemy: Clutter. I have always had a weakness for clutter - papers, books, memorobilia. My mother's favorite childhood comment attributed to me is supposedly once when she asked me to clean up some mess in my room, my response was "but I like to have my things around me." Ha ha, Mom.<br />
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In college, my desk was always heaped with stuff. Added to my tendency to light candles and leave the room, I'm surprised I didn't ever burn the place down, but that's another story. In adulthood, it took over my kitchen counters and dining room table. Even when I declare war on clutter, there always is a small pile of stuff that needs to go somewhere - to the filing cabinet, in the mail, to someone else, or to someplace I haven't figured out yet - and then that little pile soon procreates into enough paper to side our house all heaped on my kitchen counter. I'm a pretty organized person and I've often wished for the Samantha Stevens (you all remember Bewitched, right?) ability to twitch my nose and magically direct the next step of making things go where I direct them. Without that magically ability, my human tendency is to leave the nicely organized pile of things to be filed or moved or donated or whatever until I get around to that next step ... which often will be a long time (or even never) before I get back to it. <br />
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We now live in a two story house with a finished basement. By "we", I am talking about 2 adults, 2 pre-teens, two dogs and two cats. While we are not going to be chosen for hoarders or any other similar reality show, the clutter is killing me. Don't even get me started on the basement because that is where piles of "I don't know what to do with it" go to die. But every flat surface in this house is covered with unbalanced piles of stuff. It isn't dirty and it isn't garbage, but it is stuff that needs to get off those surfaces and into it's proper place. <br />
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I have learned over the years that reducing clutter reduces my stress. I am far from the kind of person that finds peace and serenity in scrubbing a bathroom or vacuuming the house every night before bed, but I know I tense up if I walk into a room and am struck by how much crap is piled up and stuffed into every visible nook and cranny. I also know I am much more likely to cook the kind of food I want to eat, if can actually have a kitchen counter to work on. I have also learned that I am completely on my own in my quest against the clutter demon in my home. <br />
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In an effort to combat this demon, I have periodically chosen a room, or a given flat surface, and cleared it off. I put things away, I donate things, I reshelve books, I shred unnecessary papers, you get the idea. I clear it and clean it. And I hope every time that others in my home will respect that clean surface and keep it clean, so I can move on to the next area. Never happens. The clutter is back within days. Yes, sometimes I contribute (one particular table next to my chair is frequently where the odd-sock-pile ends up, as I fold laundry), but most of the time when I clean off a surface, it is of items I have never touched. <br />
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Just in writing this, I have found my goal for 2014 - identifying and declaring my personal "no clutter zones" in the house and challenging myself to keep those areas clear instead of trying to take on the whole house. Like many things, perhaps if nothing else finding my own sanity in the midst of this clutter will set a good example for my kids. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-54811986466019190772013-12-07T18:34:00.000-06:002013-12-07T18:34:23.474-06:00Dear Universe:My goal for 2013 was patience. I needed to cede control for the things that were not mine to direct, because the anger and resentment were building. Patience has been hard. Ceding control was quite a process since it took me nearly all year to realize that it was my own failure to cede control that was making myself and everyone around me miserable and the resentment was like lava bubbling inside me and pouring out in waves on the people closest to me. I finally opened my eyes and realized what was happening, promptly took some self-care action, and have made massive improvements in my mood and my relationships since then. <br />
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I feel like I'm really trying. And Universe, I thank you for that. I really do. Today I am saying thank you, as I do most days, and I am also acknowledging that we really need some guidance in the coming days. There is a person in my life that desperately needs a sign or a road map or a door or window opening and I am asking for something along those lines. I can't do anything to make this happen so I have been trusting that the right thing will come, but we're reaching a critical time and just really am asking for some little thing to let us know that we're going to be OK. I'd really appreciate it.<br />
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Love, SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-39108550690100439542013-11-22T09:44:00.000-06:002013-11-22T09:44:04.221-06:00Life PatternsDo you ever have one of those times where you are driving along in your car and thinking about something in your past, or wondering about something in your life, and all of a sudden you see in vivid technicolor that you are just repeating a pattern that can trace back your whole life? Happens to me all the time - I am way too introspective when I drive, perhaps - and it happpened most recently this morning.<br />
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I listen to the oldies station on the radio driving to work, if I turn the radio on. The song "I Will Follow Him" came on (you know the one - "I will follow him ... follow him wherever he may go ... and so on). I'm not exactly sure why I turned that concept on myself, but all of a sudden I realized that I have latched on as a follower in my personal life and then my work life so many times! First, I suppose, was just assuming my dad knew everything and just blindly following his lead and spouting his opinions etc. And I thought that was the type of man I wanted to marry as well - one who would just lead and bring me along. And then I got my first FT job and was an admin assistant and found I was really good at it. I can assist and support higher ups and make them look really good. But it wasn't enough for me. And continuing to just recite the opinions of my father wasn't working for me either. And who is surprised to hear that my search for a man to take over my life and lead was interpreted as being a bit needy and desperate? Talk about a pattern that needed to be disrupted! <br />
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Took me until midway through college to have the first real instance of questioning whether my dad really was right about everything in the world (my first boyfriend asked me probably more than once "is that your opinion or your dad's?"). Took me until my late twenties to realize I should strive for a job further up the food chain, where I had more responsibility than just support staff. Took me until my thirties to realize these same concepts applied to my search for a mate, and probably to my mid forties and now late forties when I'm now actively trying to accept that my husband isn't solely responsible for my happiness in life. <br />
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What a journey this has been, and I'm laughing a bit as I write this because anyone who knows me now would never believe the person I was twenty-five years ago when I hardly had an independent opinion in my brain. I am clearly making up for that lost time now and I would say that I am teaching my children from birth to think for themselves - I can't count the number of times I have said "you don't have to agree with me, what do you think?" to my ten year old. I hope my kids grow up knowing the world is available to them and that they are not expected (or required) to follow anyone's path but their own. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-75106301162403810062013-11-21T15:36:00.002-06:002013-11-21T15:36:36.589-06:00PatienceMy goal for 2013 was to be patient. To allow my path to unfold before me and to trust that it would make itself known to me in good time. I am not a patient person. I struggled with feeling like I needed to solve things, make things happen, push ... but I really did resist these urges and tried to just wait and keep my eyes open.<br />
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Things have been moving forward in the last couple months. It feels good to have gotten started. Yesterday, this excerpt from Melody Beattie's "The Language of Letting Go" appeared in my daily thoughts email, and I loved it. Take a moment and a deep breath and enjoy! <br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: small;"><strong><span style="color: #dc291e;">Going Easy</span></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Go easy. You may have to push forward, but you don't have to push so hard. Go in gentleness, go in peace.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Do not be in so much of a hurry. At no day, no hour, no time are you required to do more than you can do in peace. Frantic behaviors and urgency are not the foundation for our new way of life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Do not be in too much of a hurry to begin. Begin, but do not force the beginning if it is not time. Beginnings will arrive soon enough.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Enjoy and relish middles, the heart of the matter.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Do not be in too much of a hurry to finish. You may be almost done, but enjoy the final moments. Give yourself fully to those moments so that you may give and get all there is.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">Let the pace flow naturally. Move forward. Start. Keep moving forward. Do it gently, though. Do it in peace. Cherish each moment.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-70599493630015799992013-11-18T09:20:00.000-06:002013-11-21T15:37:11.596-06:00I Choose Happiness.2013 has been a rough year for me - lots of angst and internal struggle. I had a long talk with myself this weekend and made one conscious decision: I Choose Happiness. There is much in my life that I cannot change and I have to find a way to avoid sinking into the bog of resentment. I am feeling very empowered by the self-care I have undertaken in the past couple months and I can envision even more as life unfolds, which gives me hope and a feeling of freedom from some 'monkey-chatter' that has plagued me for a long time. At the end of the day, I have miles and miles of entries on my gratitude list and my attitude about my life is a choice. I can muck around with what is fair or equitable or grumble about what I believe is owed to me, or I can choose to be filled with gratitude and joy for what I have. I am saying it now and mean this as a true commitment to my future: I Choose Happiness. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-29935648444351473082013-11-17T10:10:00.000-06:002013-11-21T15:38:31.681-06:00Magnetic peopleWhat is it about some people that makes them draw other people toward them? We've all known someone like that, and I have had the pleasure to know a few and for those that are no longer regularly in my life, I still think of them fondly and with a smile. And I still marvel at how these people can walk into anywhere and immediately, and magically, draw people to them and leave others smiling and feeling warm, just from crossing paths. I have tried to mimic what I've seen them do - really look at people, smile at everyone, and say the nice things that sometimes pop into my mind ("I love your socks!" was the last one that comes to mind - said to a woman at yoga who came in with these gorgeous wild colored wool socks on as leg warmers). I think doing this shares some warmth and makes people smile, even just for a moment, but I have never found the magic that actually draws people to me. But I love doing the little things like holding a door or reaching for something on a high shelf for someone at the grocery store who is stretching or commenting with a smile to a stranger. <br />
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I have been thinking a lot lately about one of my friends, Lisa. She was the most magnetic of the magnetic people I've ever known. After I moved away, she was planning a globe-hopping travel adventure and was kind enough to send me photographs of her journey. Keep in mind this was in the early years before everyone had email and before wi-fi allowed for global internet access. I followed her journey hungrily, since I was not raised with enough adventure in my soul to ever even conceive of doing such a thing. I think we crossed paths once after that trip and had lunch, because I remember hearing about her travels in person. But that was about the last I heard from Lisa. I googled her some years ago and was thrilled to discover that she was involved with a national women's white water rafting team ... clearly her adventures continued! But I never found an address - email or otherwise - to write to her.<br />
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And then in early September, I googled her again. I was scrolling around through various 'hits' when I happened to look at the "google images". And there she was - huge smile and wild hair. The photo was from a few years ago in New Zealand! So I searched a little narrower and found another photo on a web page for a yoga studio in New Zealand - there was no face, but it was a woman sitting with her head thrown back laughing. I didn't need a face to recognize my friend. There were tears in my eyes by that point. So then I searched a little narrower, found a web site for a yoga studio back in the U.S., advertising a yoga retreat with my friend Lisa as the chef (she was always a fantastic cook!). I actually immediately clicks on the "register" button and having not done a lick of yoga in my life, I was ready to get a plane - that's how strong a presence she was in my life - only to realize the retreat had already occurred after Labor Day weekend. But there were multiple photos of my friend - smiling and looking gorgeous and I sat there clicking on the photo galleries, smiling and laughing and wiping tears. I found "my" Lisa! <br />
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I did send an email and had two emails back from each of the two studio owners, saying they'd pass along my greetings to Lisa. I hoped I would hear back from her but, to date, have not. And that makes me sad but at the same time, I am just so happy that her adventures continue and that she is happy and well and no doubt bringing joy to the people around her.<br />
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There were many players in the process it took to get me onto my yoga mat, but truly seeing Lisa again - even online - was the final straw. Well, the final straw was finding a yoga studio that had a class schedule I could manage as well and that wasn't terrifying (or too terrifying) but that was really more of a technical hurdle to overcome. I had been going up the 'I think I can, I think I can, I think I can' hill towards it for a long time and Lisa, I think, was the final push to crest the hill, let go, and holler wheeeeeeeeeee! even as my rational brain was shrieking in terror. That was what Lisa gave to me - we had a couple adventures where I had to consciously set my rational brain aside and just let go and enjoy the ride. <br />
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I love you Lisa, and I thank you sincerely for the memories and your effect on my life.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-12635285661914321062013-11-05T11:58:00.000-06:002013-11-21T15:37:53.404-06:00Body ImageContradictory as usual, it has occurred to me that I have what I think is maybe a unique body image. I have read lots of things over the years about the poor folks suffering with eating disorders, who despite looking to the rest of us like a concentration camp inmate, see a fat person when they look at themselves in the mirror. On the other hand, we also know there are lots of people who have not-perfect bodies who carry themselves with the pride and confidence and even the sex appeal of the hottest supermodel. <br />
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I am somewhere in the middle. <br />
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I don't frequently look in the mirror, but when I do I am often slow to recognize myself because the lumpy, doughy body is not what I expect to see. Instead, I expect to see a lean and strong person, who is relaxed in body and in life. I recently dubbed that inner vision as my inner athlete.<br />
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I may never have that lean and strong athlete physique but that is also not my goal as I enter my second month of yoga practice. My goal is actually the second half of my inner vision - when I look at myself, I want to see a person who is relaxed in body and in life. Balanced and at peace. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-31380897191364732732013-10-22T11:09:00.000-05:002013-11-21T15:38:21.909-06:007 Lessons After 7 Yoga ClassesI started a yoga journey on October 2, 2013. It seemed that for many months I had been searching for some way to help myself feel better mentally and emotionally. What I was doing wasn't working and every time I turned around, someone or something was whispering (or hollering) YOGA! Finally, I found myself walking in the door of a local yoga studio, having paid for a month's unlimited class membership. I was terrified and excited. Intimidated and proud. <br />
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It was beginners class - beginners HOT yoga. I do not like heat. I have not enjoyed the minimal experience I'd had with yoga to date. I was (and still am) terrifically out of shape. But I introduced myself to the owner/instructor, 'fessed up to my beginner status (like that wasn't going to be obvious in the first five minutes), and did what I have been dreaming of doing without even knowing what I was dreaming of - turned inside myself, surrendered my head and my body to the process, and let my focus remain on what was happening on my mat for that hour. And the heat was glorious. <br />
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First lesson - I have been longing to do something just for myself, that honors my physical self in this moment, as the miraculous gift it is. I want to say "lesson learned" but this is very much a work in progress - remaining grateful for my body as it is right this minute. <br />
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I did four beginner's classes to start. I learned that some days things are really hard or even impossible and another day they might not be so hard. I learned that I can fall out of a pose and shake it out and try to go right back into it. I learned that I can go through an entire class and really have no idea who else is in the room with me. And there I am in my yoga capris and tank top (it is just too hot for anything else), just being. Beautiful lesson two. <br />
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Next was the regular class - at 5:15 a.m. class. If I hope to make this a regular part of my life, it has to stay out of the way of my time with my kids, so I learned that if I go at 5:15 a.m., I am home just after the kids' alarm clock goes off for school and can jump right into the morning routine. And I did OK with the regular, non-beginner class too - so a success all the way around. <br />
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Then, since I had a few days off, I decided to try some other class offerings. The first was High Intensity Interval Training yoga. Oh my hannah. I have a nagging tendinitis in my Achilles tendon which flared up on about jumping jack number 5 and had me hobbling for 2 days afterward. And many of the interval activities were way beyond my strength level, so I was modifying as we went along and felt very unparticipatory. But my heart rate was up and I was working hard, so that was when lesson three lasered into focus - it is not a competition, with yourself or anyone else, it is about doing your best and honoring your strength, however it manifests itself on a given day. <br />
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Lesson four - when you are aching and tired and sore, don't let yourself skip yoga. It will make you feel better. That was the 5:15a class the morning after HIIT.<br />
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Candlelight flow yoga was Sunday night. I so wanted to find a peaceful end to the weekend/start to the new week. This was the largest class I've attended and with the extra bodies, including a couple men for the first time, I had the experience of trying to do a downward facing dog (I'm tall, so have to have my hands and face close to the end of my mat on one end, in order for my feet to have all the way to the other end of the mat) with the feet of my neighbor passing in front of my face. Disconcerting. Didn't help that she was a bit of a "flailer". And I know that the proper breathing means bringing "texture and sound" to our exhales, but the grunting and groaning of one of the men was becoming very annoying. And then lesson five came to me - remember back to lesson one about focusing on myself and what is happening on my own mat? Yeah, lesson five was that I have to free myself of being impacted by what is happening on other mats in the room and not letting that create friction for me. <br />
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This morning I went back for 5:15a class. I was tired and stiff and have a twinge in my back and a sore knee. Physically, class didn't go well for me at all. I couldn't hold much of any pose. But I kept at it and got through it and glad that I was there. Lesson six - loving myself and honoring myself, even when I am imperfect and life doesn't go the way I want it to. I also gave myself a pat on the back for even showing up when I am so achey and tired, and to keep at it even when it is hard. And the heat was lovely. <br />
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It is becoming apparent to me (here's lesson seven) that the old mantra of learning of love yourself is one of those phrases that is so easy to say and even claim, but not so easy to actually practice and own. But I'm doing it. My "intentions" for yoga include concepts like: I am not invisible. I am valuable. I am a miracle. I am grateful for the person I am, right here and right now.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-91067249197111410492013-01-20T19:54:00.001-06:002013-11-21T15:38:44.265-06:00New addition to the family...Any who have read my blog from the beginning will recall that Sean and I were seriously considering adopting another child. Due to some personal circumstances, we found we wouldn't be able to proceed until June 2013, so it kind of went on the back burner for a while. And in that time I realized a few things.<br />
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First, I had to accept that I was wholly overwhelmed with my life as it is right now. My girls are starting to have more and more outside activities, my younger daughter is on the ASD spectrum which results in some real struggles for all of us, and the reality is that any additional stress, I might just explode. And additional stress came last summer, in the form of a huge work shift. One of my co-workers left for another job and his entire case load ended up on my desk. There was good in that, and I did well with it, but it left me with absolutely no emotional reservoir.<br />
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I don't like to admit the work "overwhelmed" ever has any bearing on my life. I take great personal pride in being able to get through anything - one of my huge "walls" is to never let anyone see me sweat. Good Germanic and Scandahoovian martyrdom and stiff upper lip b.s. and all that, you know. It's bred into me. But I did admit it ultimately to myself this time. <br />
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And so the dream of adopting a child is over. Those children need homes, and I greatly admire those who provide the homes and the amazing care that these kids need to deal with their pasts and their futures, but my children had dibs on me first and my obligation to them does not allow me to dilute myself beyond my limits. I'd love to think I could do it all but that is not being honest with myself. On a happier note, once I did figure it out, it took a lot of pressure off. There is a certain amount of deep breathing that comes with accepting yourself as you are, you know? <br />
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And our family then took a leap: in October we adopted a second dog. I have never had a second dog in my life, so that was an interesting prospect. The dog we adopted, Copper, is a greyhound, rescued from a racetrack breeding farm in Kansas. He must have been slow or something, because he never made it to the track, which is maybe a good things for him (conditions at the track are worse than those at the farms). The thing about these rescued greyhounds is that they know nothing of family life, living in a house, or floors other than dirt and concrete. Copper lived with thousands of other hounds in outdoor pens and kennels. He was terrified by the door to our house and cars and mailboxes, we had to teach him to walk up and down stairs, and he still (3 months later) is spooked by new people, loud noises and shadows on the walls. But he is sweet and sometimes playful and we have high hopes that he will continue to socialize and develop his personality. Thankfully, he and Lucky took to each other right off.<br />
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We are a well balanced household now - 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 cats, 2 dogs; 4 males, 4 females. I hope we are also on our way to balancing everyone's emotional needs, activities, and obligations - or at least I think we are and I'm optimistic. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-15482755873483924452012-12-31T17:16:00.002-06:002012-12-31T17:16:27.840-06:00Happy New YearTo any of my blogging friends who have been wondering if I dropped off the face of the earth, well rest assured I am alive and well but I did drop off the face of the blogging world a few (six?) months ago. I haven't even logging in to blogger in all that time and despite how curious I've been about everyone and what everyone is writing about, something happened that just stopped me in my blogging tracks.<br />
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To everyone a very happy new year! I hope that everyone can stop and breathe long enough every day to find the beauty in each and every day - even if it is hiding behind the gerbil wheel of regular life or the various tragedies that have a way of creating havoc with our peace and happiness. I hope 2013 is full of changed attitudes and harmony - and that my hope for that isn't dimmed before the new year hardly can begin. <br />
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I hope to be back in the coming days, catching up and sharing with everyone again. I have missed you and am finding my way back. <br />
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SarahUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-44080807567792913162012-09-30T09:43:00.002-05:002012-09-30T09:43:41.488-05:00GiftsWhen I was 29 years old, I decided to go to law school. I decided I needed to challenge myself and stop waiting for "the one" to come along and get my own career and make a difference in my own life instead of waiting for someone else to create a difference for me. I heard from almost every lawyer I talked to that I shouldn't do it - not because I wouldn't be able to but because it wouldn't make me happy. I didn't expect it (the job) to make me happy - I have known for my entire life that I am unamenable to conflict. What I expected was that it would change my life.<br />
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It did.<br />
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Yes, I learned all kinds of things about myself - including academic humility which was new, since school to that point had always come very easily to me - but the best gift I was given in law school were my four girlfriends. If I am ever inclined to believe in predestination or fate taking a hand in directing my life, I would say that these women were the reason I went to law school. What I know is that I recognized the amazing people around me in school and threw any pride I had out the window in roping them into my life, in whatever I way I could. <br />
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We graduated 13 years ago, and we five friends have had about 13 reunion vacations since then, four marriages, birthed eight children and two grandchildren, moved households a pile of times, changed jobs, dithered about career decisions, and laughed and cried more times than I can count. These women have changed my life - and to give myself credit, let's word that differently: we five women have changed each other's life. <br />
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We just spent five days on the Gulf of Mexico, with nothing more pressing than catching up on our life stories, eating good food, and relaxing with each other. It was restorative, peaceful, hysterically funny, gorgeous, and best of all a chance to open our hearts to each other in person and share the burden we each carry. You know how the Grinch's heart grows three sizes at the end of the story? I felt like my lungs expanded and I could breath three times more fully by the time we headed home. <br />
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Thank you my friends. You are in my heart every day. No matter how much life might beat me dow at times, I can only believe that I am amazing person, since women like you find me to be worthy of your friendship and love. I am beyond blessed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-73970065444238322202012-09-10T12:38:00.002-05:002012-09-10T12:38:12.795-05:00It's been 22 days...I just looked and it has been 22 days since my last post. My angst over that makes it feel much longer, so I was little relieved it see it hadn't yet been a month, though I do feel like this post is sort of a confession (I'm Sarah and it's been 22 days since my last log-on...). Mind you, I am not "should-ing" myself about writing every day or whatever, but I have been castigating myself over the not writing because I feel like I'm doing it (or not doing it, as it were) as a "so there!" or other oppositional reaction. What is up with that?<br />
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When I first started my blog, it was because I had so much rambling around in my head I just needed to get it out. I remember writing topic lists and just having item and idea one after the other. It was so easy! And I think as it got harder - and I started facing some of the personal decisions that come with blogging (yes, we all know what those are I'm sure!) - some part of my brain started with the "fine! then I just won't do it!" Then throw in a couple added life stressors and we have a 22 day strike. And trust me, it felt like a strike. I didn't read other people's blogs and I didn't even THINK about writing a post. <br />
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"Get over your damn self!" is my new internal mantra. A very wise friend said this to me a couple weeks ago - in the kindest and most indirect of ways - as I ranted on and on (again!) about work crap. And it comes back to that awesome Shawshank Redemption quote "get busy living, or get busy dying". If there are choices you opt not to choose (i.e. changing a job or whatever), then find the good in what you have and QUIT BITCHING ABOUT IT. Focus on the good and your mood will very likely lift - mine has. I have actually sailed through work the past couple weeks without any real whining at all and that is saying something! <br />
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I am also the queen of whining when life gets hard. I have had a remarkably easy life in so many ways. In looking back, it feels to me like I've rarely if ever truly challenged myself to do anything that takes struggle or perseverence (except the marathon that is marriage and parenthood, of course). As I am now coming out of my weird funk, I see that this blog writing stuff takes effort and perseverence - and doing it for the experience of doing it, not for any other purpose or for any other person. <br />
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Whew, glad to have that out of my system - how many Hail Marys do I have to do? <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-83526508059836063292012-08-19T18:27:00.004-05:002012-08-19T18:27:49.121-05:00The Odd Life of Timothy GreenWent to see The Odd Life of Timothy Green today. Sweet movie that we all enjoyed a great deal. But as a person who has had 4 miscarriages - - I will admit to you that I cried like a baby in the beginning of the movie, as the parents describe "their child" and put the descriptions in the box. Oh amen! I've so been there. Despite my attempts to not engage in it, I went from positive pregnancy test to guessing at gender and thinking about names and calculating due date and maternity leave to high school graduation and thoughts of the future for each and every one of those pregnancies. And then as soon as I had each of my miscarriages, I purged all those pertinent dates and thoughts from my brain. It hasn't been that long, and I couldn't tell you a single one of my then-thwarted due dates or anything. Internal defenses to certain events are an interesting thing.<br />
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On the way home from the movie, both my kids started crying about our dog that died a couple years ago. How they miss her, wondering where she is buried (btw, if anyone has an explanation for I explain allowing a family pet to be cremated by the vet's office that might make sense to a 9 year old, I'm all ears), and how life isn't fair. Oh ain't that the truth, children! They had me crying too. <br />
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A much different vibe than our usual movie trips, but really a lovely movie. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-44957140948845279092012-08-11T08:20:00.000-05:002012-08-11T08:20:10.550-05:00Feelings ... wo wo wo feeeelings ...Anyone else remember that classic song "Feelings" by some guy? No wonder I reject feelings - I was scarred for life by that song! <br />
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Anyway, it's been hard to come up with a blog topic lately - mostly because I've been way too scattered from being busy to think of much coherent, but also because the crap that floats through my brain is all on those topics I don't blog about. I used to be able to say that I would be glad when the election is over, but I swear the political b.s. (lying, scheming, and making no effort to further community or national goals because we're too busy name calling) just goes on continually nowadays, but of course it is way worse in a presidential election year. <br />
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Last night at my Al Anon meeting, there was a reading about the need to think before we speak - that airing things out unfiltered can cause untold damage. True enough. But what struck me was the flip side - that by thinking TOO MUCH before we speak, we (and by we I mean I) tend to deny our feelings and miss our opportunity to express them - which can cause untold damage to ourselves and our relationships. I was raised not to have emotions, much less express them. It hasn't been too hard to learn to express positive emotions but if something makes me feel a negative emotion, I have no ability to open up my mouth and talk about it. <br />
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What is interesting to me is that I can sit in meetings and think - for instance in response to this reading - wow, I'm doing great because I don't vent at people and say hurtful things. Yay me. And then sometimes these other realizations happen and I think - crap ... I am one damaged piece of work. But I did give myself a little pat for having this realization. <br />
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The next reading was something about how the program allows a safe space for folks who have long stuff their emotions to feel those stuffed feelings - and it characterized it as those emotions boiling forward like hot lava pouring out. Well to my Midwestern Lutheran Scandahoovian self, this stopped me in my tracks. I'm good. No need for hot lava here. You can just keep your full range of emotional health, I'll just be here. Holy crap, who thinks that the 'hot lava' experience is a motivator to work the program to get in touch with your inner emotions? I am not miserable by any stretch, I'm mostly content even - I should also say that I'm not convinced that I have a hot lava pool in me anyway - but I am certainly not feeling anxious to move one step in that direction just in case. <br />
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So feelings - I have them. I feel them. I can identify a whole spectrum of them in me. I even know the script for talking about the negative ones (you know, the "when you do [whatever], I feel [whatever], and it would feel better to me if you would do [whatever] instead." But I can't visualize how to make myself do that any more than I can visualize how to make myself do a back flip. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-27121421073906440172012-08-01T23:43:00.001-05:002012-08-01T23:43:51.693-05:00another tick off my bucket listHad the good fortune to see one of my favorite singer songwriters in concert tonight at one of my favorite places - the Minnesota Zoo uses their outdoor amphitheater for Music in the Zoo in the summertime and my sister and I went to see Mary Chapin Carpenter. She has long been a favorite, since the first time I ever heard her music, and she has long been on my list - for whatever reason - of celebrities I'd like to have a beer with. Well no beer tonight, but I am very happy to like her just as much after the concert - she seemed nice and friendly and grateful and funny. <br />
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Got me thinking about other groups I've seen in concert ... I have a pretty limited live music experience. My first concert was Styx during their Kilroy was Here tour. I was a senior in high school. Then I saw the Nylons and Billy Joel in my early 20s. When I was in Seattle, I saw some groups I don't recall the names of, but I did see one concert by The Proclaimers (awesome!) and I saw Pearl Jam at the Gorge in George, with Neil Young (Eddie Vedder was so drunk it was kind of disappointing). I saw Harry Connick Jr (he is a wild performer and so fun - and adorable) during law school and I also won tickets to some concert with three pop/rock groups who had big songs around then but I can't for the life of me remember who those groups were...and I don't think I've seen anyone since then (1999). <br />
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So maybe having a beer with Mary Chapin was a bit of a stretch for my bucket list, so I'll consider it satisfied with tonight and our front row seats. Worth every penny!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-48123663705764624092012-07-21T14:51:00.002-05:002012-07-22T08:20:57.283-05:00Marriage...Any other Princess Bride fans out there? "Mawwaige ... mawwaige is wha' bwings uff togevah, today." Love that movie. Love to mimic that marriage ceremony. Probably be good if no-one ever asked me to get my internet credentials to solemnize their marriage - between my love of bad imitations and my track record with weddings (Sean and I were married by a judge in a pumpkin suit), I'd probably be a risky bet.<br />
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Two different people made me think about marriage this week. Lots of times I take it for granted - being married - and one of my friends commented this week that she had long thought if she just got divorced, then her live would be stress free, and then she realized all the new stresses that would come from being divorced in her current stage of life. And I thought to myself how easy it is, when you are annoyed with your job or your work or your house or whatever, to just think of that green grass on the other side of the offending fence. It's deceptive sometimes. <br />
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And then I woke up this morning to several Facebook posts from another friend, announcing her impending move out of the house and divorce, and already scouting for a replacement wife for her husband so he can be happy since she can't seem to make him happy. Shocking way to start my day. Those friends are from long ago and I've only seen them once in the past 10+ years, but I was there when the relationship began and was one of two witnesses to their wedding, and it made me sad to think that this is the end after 18 or so years. Later today was informed that perhaps the end is not as near as it appeared last night. Perhaps after a night to sleep on it, that green grass didn't appear quite so green, eh?<br />
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I was married once before, to my first boyfriend. We got married when we were 23, after dating for 2 years. On the day of our wedding, he was just an ass to me that I actually considered calling it off. I realized then that this was not a marriage that would last and I remember very coldly thinking that I would marry him, have my children, and then dump him - and in that way, I would get my kids and get to keep his family. I was not "in love" on my wedding day. We should have broken up. My parents weren't crazy about him, so they would not have presented any arguments against calling off the wedding, but I didn't tell anyone what was going on in my head. Thank goodness no children were conceived in that marriage! I was so bloody naive to think that divorce would have been any kind of solution, post-children. Marriage ended after 2.5 years when we separated, filled out DIY divorce papers one night over supper at Perkins, and the divorce was final just a month shy of our third anniversary. One of the best things I ever did - ending that fiasco of a marriage.<br />
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When Sean and I met, it was a whirlwind. I didn't expect to even like him, when our mutual friend fixed us up, and the fact that we even had a 2nd date is a testament to Sean's efforts. But about a month in, I knew it was a good thing. The biological clock business started in my head (I was 36). And three months after our blind date, we picked a wedding date in the fall, while out walking the dog. He hadn't even proposed yet! I told him, long before he proposed, that I wasn't getting divorced again, and if we got married, it was forever for me. That still holds true, as we wrap up our first decade of marriage, but I am the first to admit that marriage is hard and certainly not the romantic b.s. that pop culture would have us believe. <br />
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I think divorce has it's place, just as I think there are lots of marriages that never should have happened, but it still makes me sad when good solid people struggle in the trenches of their relationship. There is no stock answer either - what works for one person, doesn't always work for another. The reality is that there is green grass, and nasty thorny weeds, and everything in between, on both sides of the fence.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-84175983178904395542012-07-20T07:01:00.000-05:002012-07-20T07:02:15.140-05:00Post #200And here we are at Post #200 on this little blog o mine. I've been blogging since December 2011 and I think it's largely been a good thing. I toy with whether I should be courting followers, whether I should be trying to ramp up my writing to perhaps work toward a book of some kind, whether I should bare my soul and start writing about everything that is on my mind (see yesterday's post about the things I don't write a about). And then I just keep on with my usual rambling and am grateful for my 26 followers and their comments.
I don't have a plan for my blog, other than to keep writing it. I can imagine it may morph over time into something else, but I'm as curious as anyone about what that might be. In the short term, I think I have some gaps in my life story to fill in - I need to go back and review what I've written about so far and see what's missing.
I'm writing this on the new keyboard that Sean bought for my iPad. Oddly, it allows me to type off the screen so there are 2 words in each line that I can't see. Otherwise this little keyboard works just fine and is way better for blog writing than the touch screen. Wonder what will happen to those invisible words when I hit "publish"...
And that's it for the 200th post. Thanks for reading!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-3346324781676012642012-07-19T13:23:00.000-05:002012-07-19T13:23:07.701-05:00No wonderOne of my favorite bloggers, Elan Morgan at schmutzie dot com, posted 25 Things I'm Afraid to Write About <a href="http://www.schmutzie.com/weblog/2012/7/17/25-things-im-afraid-to-write-about.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+schmutzie+%28Schmutzie.com%29">here</a>. Boy did that get me thinking over the past few days. You know that lack of writing I've been doing (or not doing?), it is directly related to my self-censoring for mostly this very same reason.<br />
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Another blog I read had a post some time ago about how she isn't as troubled as she might sound at times, because she uses her blog to vent and doesn't write about the other, perhaps mundane but certainly more stable/pleasant, parts of her life. That also got me thinking. <br />
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So here we are:<br />
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Things I Don't Write About Because This Is Not A Private Journal:<br />
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1. My work<br />
2. My friends and the negative parts of my relationships with them<br />
3. My family and the negative parts of my relationships with them<br />
4. Personal information about my friends and family<br />
5. Sex<br />
6. Politics and/or social issues and the politics around them<br />
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Well hell - what does that leave me really? When my head is full of thoughts on those topics, no freakin' wonder I find no words flying out into blog posts. <br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-66197651165931527022012-07-14T12:43:00.004-05:002012-07-14T12:43:52.801-05:00Watch out world, I'm on an iPad now!Test run of posting from my new ipad. Some months ago Sean bought an ipad and when I learned from the kids of this, I was told he bought it for me. Never tried it much but the kids adored it. Then a few weekends ago I thought I'd bring it along on a trip - and managed to not only crack the crystal but also smashed in the corner. Felt so stupid. So when Sean went to have it fixed, he got a replacement for the original iPad and got me one just for me! With freakin steel armor.
My laptop is full of bugs and crashes routinely, so he's hoping I can transition from a pc to an Apple and we can ditch the laptop ... We shall see. But change is hard and transitions are not my forte particularly when PMS is upon me, so that's all I'm going to say about that!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-4881334916081871812012-07-11T19:37:00.002-05:002012-07-11T19:37:58.178-05:00Careful what you wish for...For a while now I've been struggling with work burn-out and I've truly varied between extreme frustration and extreme boredom, with occasional periods of peace along the way. And it has occurred to me that I should be careful or someone would find something to keep me busy. <br />
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About a month ago, one of my co-workers left for greener pastures. Guess where his caseload ended up? And now, as of last week, I am significantly busier than I have been in years. Granted, the new stuff is stuff that I have no interest in, but I can't say I'm sorry to have it. I thought it would be a nice diversion for a couple months, only to learn that the powers that be (county board, not my department head) put the request to fill the position on hold pending initial budget/levee stuff in September. So likely this past week will be my reality until sometime in October or November. <br />
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I'm annoyed with "the system" on principle I guess, though not particularly annoyed with the daily reality. What concerns me more is that I totally think I will absorb the second caseload with little problem, which will not bode well for convincing the powers that be that we need another person. So do I step it up and do what needs to be done, like the efficient worker-bee I am, or do I whine and pretend to be overwhelmed and swamped, so that we can fill the position? That is more of a dilemma for me than actually managing the double workload, since it triggers two of my most strongly-held habits: truthfulness and work pride. What in the world will come of this?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-43673265707527309062012-07-08T08:44:00.001-05:002012-07-08T08:44:41.630-05:00That's some high water!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xSnsYDMH4TMhJ4Kq737LbpDmylK-MjGykJrOlIv08o-NhgWVykgjb_J2GKb3WlKYqunYydrS9QOAc3ULaCQjHb7A-Tw4hQoOe4sGkZo2j6s03enpKCUCLHGlOLmjQmaSe0nyGJjAZqU/s1600/2012-07-07_18-39-29_58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xSnsYDMH4TMhJ4Kq737LbpDmylK-MjGykJrOlIv08o-NhgWVykgjb_J2GKb3WlKYqunYydrS9QOAc3ULaCQjHb7A-Tw4hQoOe4sGkZo2j6s03enpKCUCLHGlOLmjQmaSe0nyGJjAZqU/s320/2012-07-07_18-39-29_58.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Hey, look at me, embedding a photo into a blog post! That's a first!<br />
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We were hanging around St. Cloud, MN yesterday and happened to go down to the dam, where the Mighty Mississippi is still showing the effects of all the flooding in northern Minnesota over the past three weeks. The Mississippi is still really high in Brainerd and the neighboring counties, including where I work, were declared a federal disaster last week, so it's apparent that flooding was significant this year. It was interesting to see how high and wild the water was still running here, many miles downriver.<br />
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It was a gorgeous day. I went to college for two years right across the river from where we were, and yet had never been to the dam, or anywhere on the south side of the bridge. We walked to the north side of the bridge and through the Munsinger gardens and enjoyed some beautiful flowers and really friendly ducks. Wish we'd had some bread for them. <br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-92103800446807025792012-07-07T22:44:00.001-05:002012-07-07T22:44:03.275-05:00I don't cook...I really don't cook. I am not a foodie by any definition. I <u>can</u> cook - I even made a pork tenderloin once using a recipe of Giada's from Food Network and it turned out well - but I am so not interested in cooking (except when certain people visit me and the kitchen then becomes my hideout and a method of avoiding contact, without being obvious - and thus the pork tenderloin event). As a general rule, my favorite food is anything prepared by someone else. What is really weird is that my favorite TV channel is Food Network. I'll watch almost anything on Food Network, except those competitions where people yell at each other - I am not a fan of yelling, which is why I watch so few family-based sitcoms. Have you ever paid attention to how often people are yelling and talking sharply to each other on sitcoms? I hate it! But I digress...<br />
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I was just watching Iron Chef America tonight and realized that almost all of what I know about food I learned from Food Network - I know about uni (sea urchin roe) and langosteins (some shrimp-like kind of critter) and creme freche (heavy cream with a yogurt type consistency I think). One of my dreams in life is to be a judge on Iron Chef one day. I'd be a horrible judge since I really have no kind of discerning palate and when they say that something is "unctuous" as if that is a good thing (it makes me think of something slimy) but I'd love to try it just as the "hey let's have some regular joe on to judge whether it's good or not good, rather than all this fancy-word judging stuff!" <br />
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I admire the folks I see on Chopped and Next Food Network Star and the various Iron Chef incarnations ... how you can take random ingredients and make them into something edible is magic as far as I'm concerned. I have friends who play Chopped at home - their spouse or kids pick out 3-4 random things from the cupboard and make them try to cook with them. Wow. So not happening here.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201036437468822838.post-11956413990100473232012-07-07T08:24:00.000-05:002012-07-07T11:02:47.182-05:00Random thoughts on a SaturdaySince I can't seem to formulate a post topic, I decided to engage in one of the ever-popular "random thoughts" posts instead:<br />
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I have reached the end of my rope with my 7 year old yelling at me every ever-lovin minute of the day. I think much of her behavior is related to autism spectrum issues - her brain does not work and process interpersonal interactions like the rest of us, and then her frustration flares when we don't see eye to eye. Her ASD effects are entirely on the social side of things and, genetically, she comes by the traits of smarts and obstinance naturally. As a result of everything that she is, Brooke hates being told "no", she hates being redirected, she hates being interrupted, and she hates being told what to do. I doubt we go more than five minutes in each other's presence without her yelling at me and starting a tantrum. It is hard hard work to keep my tone soft, to keep my face neutral, and not to engage in the battle. All the while, trying to teach her what she might say instead (i.e. asking for help instead of throwing a tantrum when she can't find something). I'm exhausted. <br />
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I can tell that I'm at the end of my rope with my life as a mother and a wife when I dream about my Toyota - and I had that dream about a week ago. For some reason, in my dreams, that Toyota symbolizes freedom and indepedence to me. It was purchased new shortly after I married my first husband - he picked the red one over my objection. It was a five speed 1989 Celica and I always loved it (except for the color). A couple years later, I got that car, which was paid off, in our divorce - I pointed it west and drove to Seattle. It was such a "break for freedom" for me, and that car was part of it. So, throughout my Seattle years, the Toyota and I did what we wanted and went where we wanted. I loved that car. It brought me back to Minnesota, saw me through law school, and my fisrt house, and my white boxer puppy came home in the Toyota. It was still with me when I met my husband. It was still with me when I was pregnant with Jordan and I had my first thoughts that perhaps it was time to get a new vehicle (oh my hips hurt!) ... and then, when I was about six months pregnant, someone crushed the back corner in an icy parking lot and it was totalled. It was 13-14 years old by that time, after all. I cried when I left it parked on the street, as I headed off to work, knowing the insurance company would pick it up before I got home that night. And when my life now overwhelms me, I dream about that car. <br />
<br />Interestingly enough, the dreams go something like this - I get the car back and I am so happy! I leap in and start driving down the road just smiling and so so happy. But soon I have some struggles - the gear shift might be sticky, or I realize sitting so low I can't see as well as I do in my minivan, or the steering doesn't handle so well. So my happiness is tempered. After my dream recently I realized what my dream is telling me is that while I miss and remember fondly those days of freedom, those sunshine days had their issues too. Oddly enough, that dream did help me find the strength to live through another day with my daughter, and my life full of obligations. Thanks to my Toyota. I loved that car. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8