I 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.

Body Image

Contradictory 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. 

I am somewhere in the middle.

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.

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.  

  

Happy New Year

To 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.

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. 

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. 

Sarah

It'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?

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. 

"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! 

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. 

Whew, glad to have that out of my system - how many Hail Marys do I have to do?

The Odd Life of Timothy Green

Went 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.

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. 

A much different vibe than our usual movie trips, but really a lovely movie. 

No wonder

One of my favorite bloggers, Elan Morgan at schmutzie dot com, posted 25 Things I'm Afraid to Write About here.  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.

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. 

So here we are:

Things I Don't Write About Because This Is Not A Private Journal:

1.  My work
2.  My friends and the negative parts of my relationships with them
3.  My family and the negative parts of my relationships with them
4.  Personal information about my friends and family
5.  Sex
6.  Politics and/or social issues and the politics around them

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. 

That's some high water!

Hey, look at me, embedding a photo into a blog post!  That's a first!

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.

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. 

I don't cook...

I really don't cook.  I am not a foodie by any definition.  I can 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...

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!" 

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.

Random thoughts on a Saturday

Since I can't seem to formulate a post topic, I decided to engage in one of the ever-popular "random thoughts" posts instead:

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. 

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. 

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.

My weekend was marvelous!

I had such a great weekend.  It is always a good thing when I get to cut out early on a Friday, and I did that last Friday - leaving at noon to start my weekend.  Sean was leaving for his annual fishing trip in Canada, so he was excited, and the girls and I were heading back to my hometown area for the weekend. 

To start things off this social weekend, we stopped at Subway to pick up sandwiches for supper later at the lake.  My niece's friend was working and the only patron in the store was my former basketball coach.  I laughed and had a good time chatting with both of them.

That night, we went out to the lake cabin where my friends were staying - that wonderful family from the anniversary party last weekend.  My girls got to play in the lake with the other kids tearing around, and I got to chat with my high school friend who now lives in Sweden.  It was lovely and a beautiful night at the lake.  There weren't even mosquitoes to speak of, until the sun went down.  It was awesome. 

Saturday morning, we were driving to my mother's hometown to meet a bunch of my family at the cemetery, where we were meeting to bury my uncle's ashes.  He died in Memphis around Christmas, and his sons came up from Tennessee to inter him with my grandparents.  But before we left, I went to the grocery store to pick up soda and ice and ran into a good guy friend and his two boys - hadn't seen him in several years, so that was a surprise treat. 

My sister and I car pooled to Pipestone for the burial.  It was a gorgeous day and a happy occasion to see everyone, while at the same time a poignant goodbye to my uncle.  We had a picnic afterwards, which was interesting, since this group of about 15 adults and 15 kids is roughly 50% alpha dogs when it comes to planning and organizing.  Picture a herd of sheep with a half dozen sheepdogs, all with a different idea of where those sheep should be, and the other half dozen sheepdogs muttering their own opinions but fighting their own urge to herd the sheep.  Somehow, all the sheep were fed and no stragglers were lost.

Afterwards we took the kids to the Pipestone National Monument.  If you ever have a few hours in southwestern Minnesota, it is really something to see.  You think it's all just random prairie and then there are these gorgeous cliffs and quarries just hidden out there, with a creek and waterfall too.  Gorgeous!

And then back to the hometown area where the remaining cousins (and my mom and uncle) gathered at a local establishment on Green Lake for supper and more smart talk.  It was a great location (thanks, it was this sheepdog's suggestion) and about eight of us hung out until after dark, catching up and hopefully starting planning discussions for another family reunion. 

I was laughing by Saturday night, wondering who else I'd see out of the blue.  Well, as it turned out, it was one of my daughters' very first daycare teachers!  I saw this young lady out on the patio at the restaurant and thought she looked familiar.  Asked my sister if she knew her, which would rule in or rule out anyone from our hometown, and she did not.  Then the light bulb went off and I walked up and asked her if I knew her from Loving Arms daycare - and I was right!  The bummer was that my cousin's husband had just taken all our kids back to the hotel to swim, but happily enough, they had just come outside to say goodbye to everyone and she had seen them and recognized them, though she didn't think I'd remember her, so she didn't say anything.  Funny enough, my husband and I had just been talking about this daycare teacher (Stacy) and her sister who also was a teacher there, only about two weeks ago, and were trying to remember Stacy's name.  I was tickled to have talked to her.

It was a lovely weekend of catching up and seeing old friends and extended family.  I left with a smile on my face and a great feeling of reconnection. 

It's raining, it's pouring...

and yes, the old man is snoring ... and I can't sleep.  Storms again tonight - more dumping rain on our water logged and mosquito swarmed land.  My nine year old was only awake twice, anxiety over the thunder and lightning.  The seven year old was stressing last evening about the flash flood watch notices on the TV, asking when the flood was coming. 

Hubs came to bed last night, telling me that we had a water leak - water dripping out of the kitchen light fixture.  I must have been really tired, because I fell asleep anyway, but I woke up about 2 a.m. pondering that water leak, which led to pondering the holes in our siding which already cause me anxiety about the potential for pest infestation (squirrels, bats, bees, and who knows what else), and now I can worry about moisture and mold and leaks and collapsing ceilings.

So I finally got up at 3 a.m.  Wiped up more puddles on the floor in the kitchen, emptied the bucket, and admired the water stains on the kitchen ceiling.  Sigh. 

He baked a cake!

I came home from work yesterday and found that my husband had baked a cake!  He got his one year medallion at his home meeting last night and baked a cake to take along.  Just two weeks ago, the girls wanted to make a pan of some rice krispie bar type treat and he gamely gave it a go.  I asked him if he had ever made anything like that before - nope.  So I asked him about the cake - ever done that before?  Nope.  I think he was a little proud of himself!  In the past, he'd just buy treats at the grocery store ... I have to wonder what has come over him.  He just shrugged when I asked.  It makes me smile, whatever it is. 

My heart is smiling

My kids - ages 9 and 7.5 - have never had any interest in the telephone.  They rarely talk on the phone, even when we try to get them to talk to grandparents, etc., they almost never call anyone, and never ever do they try to answer the phone.  Today I had a voice mail from my elder daughter at work (a first!) and when I called back she answered ... all to tell me that the little white things we saw on the milkweek plants several days ago, and thought might be eggs, were eggs and now we have a few more monarch caterpillars in our container!  AAAAAANNNNDDD, in her excited words "one of the caterpillars has gotten so fat, I thought it was a .... a .... well I don't know what I thought it was but it is really really fat!"  That call simply made my day. 

Jordan and I are pretty proud of ourselves because I read something about finding monarch eggs and then nurturing the caterpillars, and that night we went looking at milkweed plants and found leaves with the aforementioned "little white things" and also found two plants with the teeniest little striped monarch caterpillars I ever saw.  So we made a little home for them and are waiting to see if we get chrysalises and ultimately monarch butterflies too! 

Once

Once I was free
But I longed to be bound
By children
By a husband
By a "job that matters"

And my wish came true,
I have the children
I have the husband
I have a "job that matters"

Beyond that,
I have family and community
I have personal satisfaction
I have security
I have respect

But I'm still longing
And something is missing
How can you go looking
when you don't know what
   you're looking for?

Where are my superhero powers when I need them? And other random thoughts.

I don't like to blog about my work, but suffice it to say that I am feeling like a Regular Joe, thrown into a job for Superman lately.  I am not without some skills but the things I'm facing seem to require superpowers and I'm feeling extremely inadequate trying to make do.  It's hard and it's draining and I find myself wishing desperately for something to give.

 On a happier note, the "no screens from 8-4" rule has been upheld for 2 days so far.  I truly think, if we stick to our guns (and by "we", I mean Sean, since he's the one at home with the kids), the habit will be formed and everyone will be happier.  I am particularly thrilled that Sean has also followed the rule and the family room TV remains off as well.  I am very encouraged with the summer vacation routine so far.

I am not really up to speed on social networking.  I do have Facebook - for personal contacts, but no link to my blog there - and have both a Twitter account and a LinkedIn account.  I rarely post anything on Twitter, though I am amused by following certain celebs and what they write about and do follow a few bloggers too, and I never do anything with LinkedIn.  Does anyone know what LinkedIn is even for?  As best I can tell, other than listing your name and basic bio information, anything else costs money.  Why in the world would anyone pay for LinkedIn?

I spent a lot of time thinking about folks with struggles on my walk with the dog this morning.  I'm sure I don't even remember everyone I've read about in the last couple weeks that has some new stuff going on in their life, but I used my 20 minutes to send up some thoughts and caring to them as I walked.  And I came away with my usual reactions - appreciating just how lucky I am. 

And now it's time to put on my Superman suit and head to work, to beat my head against a wall for what I hope is a short, default hearing.  Lucky for me today, once it is over, I get to leave for the day since Sean has some appointments out of town. 

I laughed out loud...

After adopting him as a stray about a year and a half ago, our half-witted cat Harry has been bolting for any open door he sees for a couple months now.  This is new behavior for him this year.  I am fairly certain that Harry couldn't find his way to the front yard from the backyard - he's that dumb.  But since he is declawed and really clueless, I do chase him down and plop him back in the house instead of just letting him do his thing and hope for the best.  Normally, he does one of two things - he either tears around the house for the backyard and the bushes or, more frequently, he runs over toward the front door and then lays down on the sidewalk until you pick him up.

Today he bolted out as we were leaving to run some errands.  He headed for the sidewalk this time, and had just started to lay down when he saw two squirrels in the yard and he was off like a shot after them!  I had never seen him do anything like it!  He was about 7 feet off the ground, up the tree after them, before his momentum ran out and he realized he had no front claws and had no idea how to use his back claws ... and so, gravity being what it is, down he came.  He stood frozen at the base of the tree, staring at those fat squirrels, who were barking at him like crazy!  I was actually a little leery of approaching the tree to fetch the cat, since mad squirrels are nothing to mess with and they were making such a racket.  And I laughed and laughed.  Unfortunately, no-one else had come out of the garage with me, so I was the only one to enjoy the spectacle and the others just had to be satisfied with my telling them what happened.

Reminded me of my former cat, Cricket, who was an indoor/outdoor cat when I lived in Seattle.  I had this little backyard with a wooden fence, and Cricket loved to walk along it.  One day, as I watched from the window, she was backing down the fence for some reason, right toward a squirrel, who didn't seem to see her either.  And Cricket actually bumped right into the squirrel - they both went straight up on contact, and both shot off in opposite directions just like cartoon characters.  I laughed awfully hard that day too - Cricket was a very proud cat and she did not appreciate my reaction.

good news!

Remember that beach vacation I was swooning about a week or two ago?  That one that was 143 days away, south of Tampa, on the gorgeous Gulf of Mexico, WITH NO KIDS OR HUSBANDS?  Well, can I just say that I was never happier to realize I made a huge math error than I was when I realized I had made a huge math error ... that lovely trip begins in just 115 days (I was off by about a month).  I should never do math in my head.  And I should take more vacations. 

Inspirational or disheartening?

A few weeks ago, I read the following quote, attributed to Winston Churchill:  "Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm."  My immediate reaction was negative - I don't like the idea of viewing my life to date as a series of failures.  I do, however, agree that maintaining enthusiasm is a critical piece of moving forward positively in life.  So I put the quote aside with a shrug "whatever, Winston..."

Earlier this week, a friend posted the same quote on Facebook, so I commented about my earlier thoughts about it and we had a little back and forth.  My friend said something (with a smiley face) about perhaps Winston's opinions were colored by his experience of being attacked by the Nazis. 

And this quote and my thoughts about it have stuck with me now for several days.  Quite frankly, I think when a person is facing some big event (i.e. attack by the Nazis?) and something doesn't go the way you hope, it is my experience that while an initially lull occurs with the disappointment, if you have the chance to redeem yourself, or take a shot at those damn Nazis again, it might be easy to rally your enthusiasm. 

On the other hand, rallying enthusiasm to face another day of the same old same old is hard!  I admire people who can come to work every day with a genuine smile on their face, even when you know their job is difficult or boring or unpleasant.  I strive to be that person - to meet every day with renewed enthusiasm to do what needs to be done and keep my eyes open for the blessings that sometime appear where you least expect them. 

As for the "failure to failure" piece of that quote ... either I haven't had very many (or any) "failures" or else I am in complete denial and am somehow recategorizing things as something else.  I have had my share of heartbreak - in relationships, in my career, in my personal life goals - but am I wrong for not calling any of those "failures"?  Sure, I could have done things differently or made different choices, but I would never say that I failed at anything.  I auditioned for the Concert Choir in college one year and was the last person cut from my section.  Did I fail?  I was hugely disappointed (the Concert Choir had a European tour that year) and hurt and sad and mad, but I didn't fail - I stood there and I tried.  I didn't make it but that doesn't mean I failed.  I am no historian but I'm confident in saying that the Nazis bombed the crap out of Great Britain during Churchill's tenure, but does that make him a failure?  Not in my opinion. 

Unscientific research...and my blog.

It appears to me that the mood that strikes along with my PMS (which isn't so much one mood as a spectrum of them) takes away my blogging mojo.  One thought I had about it is that I end up so focused on myself (good and bad, depending where I'm at in the spectrum of moods), that I just can't conjure up topics or much of a desire to write.  Perhaps the raging hormones squelch my stream of consciousness.  What I know is that I have a real conflict between wanting to write something (anything!) and this damper that refuses to release its hold on me. 

Stuffed animal angst

Like most families with kids in elementary school, our house is full to the brim with toys:  stuffed animals, building toys, crap toys from dollar stores and/or Happy Meals, dolls, Littlest Pet Shop figures, dress-up clothes, etc.  I have thrown away so much stuff - the broken, mismatched, dog-chewed, etc. - but there seems to be a never-ending pile.  And so, about six months ago, Sean and I started telling the kids that no new stuffed animals come into the house unless they give up five.  Never once have the kids even seemed to grasp that idea, but yesterday they did.  And last night they each took a bag and started piecing through looking for five stuffed animals they could live without.  What one kid put in the bag, the other kid (shrieking in horror) and removed from the bag.  It was drama with a capital D!  I was half amused at the whole process - except when the negotiations between them turned into yelling and the 9 year old trying to strong arm the 7 year old into giving away something that the 7 year old insisted was her favorite-est toy ever.  Keep in mind that these stuffed animals have been in totes, unopened and ignored entirely, for at least three months.  But I won't allow strong arming, and the point of this exercise, which I keep repeating, is that they don't have to give away ANY ... keep them all if you like ... but then we won't buy the latest critter that caught your eye at Claire's yesterday. 

After finally giving up with about six critters in the bag last night, it started again this morning.  Three of the original six came out of the bag (you just can't make this stuff up) and they continue to cull through the pile.  The angst seems to have resolved itself and, from the sounds of things in the toy room, they are playing with the animals now, and occasionally putting one in the bag.  We shall see if we get to the magic number before we go to the mall later!