Last week we said goodbye to my husband's Papa. Oct. 2 will make three years since I last saw my sweet Mama Mary. As a child, I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of time with my grandparents and their siblings(my great aunts and uncles). As boring as it might seem for some kids and teens today, I absolutely LOVED listening to them reminisce of days gone by. It is one of my most favorite memories. The stories were so funny sometimes, but more than that, I just enjoyed that peacefulness of being surrounded by these sweet souls telling their life stories. So much better than any book or fairy tale I was ever read as a child. I have said goodbye to the majority of those people. My Papa Troy, Mama Mary, my Aunt Helen, Uncle Henry and Aunt Ethel, Aunt Edith, Aunt Eva, Aunt Doll, Uncle Larry, Aunt Cleo. I wonder if they even realized I was taking it all in? I wish I had wrote every story and recollection they shared down. I sometimes will remember a story I didn't even realize I had forgotten. They were special people to me and I never want to forget them or their stories.
While sitting at William's grandpa's house, I was once again surrounded by his grandmother, her siblings, and the sibling of his Papa's. I didn't realize just how much I missed those tales until we all sat there listening to them go back. I smiled and felt a familiar comfort. Leaving their house that night, a very troubling thought crossed my mind: We are missing ingredients.
The ingredients that made up my sweet grandparents, their siblings and, I found out that night, my hubby's grandparents as well. We joke about the "3 miles, up hill, in the snow" stories, the "I never had a problem deciding what to wear when I was a kid, I only had to pick from two things"stories and all the common stories we've all heard or joked about. The thing is, those are real. Those were really their stories. The picking cotton, wash tub bathing in front of the fire place, doing arithmetic by candle light, excited about getting fruit, and only fruit, for Christmas, walking to school where three to four grades were taught in the same room separated only by rows, warmed bricks wrapped in potato sacks under the covers to keep feet warm, dictionary was a subject, toys were foil boots on a cat, a rocking chair made by Pa, or a squeaky horse passed down from all 6 of your older siblings. We are missing ingredients.
There will NEVER be first hand stories like this again. I can't help but think that grandparents from here on out will not be as great as ours of this generation. What stories do they have that will compete. My mom will tell about what? That she played in the dirt outside instead of video games. I will tell my grand kids what? That I didn't have Internet until I was 11. Sure, we will have lived and learned, had our share of happy times, hard times, beautiful memories and maybe horrible tragedies as well. But what if the major ingredients are forever gone. Will Paisley ever sit in a room with her grandparents or with us and our siblings and be mesmerized by our stories. Will we, when we are older, have that same comforting presence about us? Will we be in our grand children's eyes, what our grandparents were in ours? Our parents are wonderful grandparents to Paisley. Love, time, and spoiling are the main components of what makes a grandparent I know...but I just wonder if the recipe will be missing something special, that little something extra.
I hope that our busy, sometimes cluttered, lives wont leave us missing those special ingredients. I hope it's just my special memories and overwhelming love that keep my grandparents on such a pedestal. I do hope we all have our own special sweet comfort to those that come after us<3 Our own special ingredient.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Proud daughter...of a TEEN mom.
No, I do not want my sweet 3 year old to be a mother in 12, 13, 14 years. She wont be ready. She will have to give up so much. She will miss out on so much. It could happen tho. I've always been told, and have seen first hand, you should never say "my child will never..." You just don't know.
I understand all the reasons why it's looked down on. I do. What I don't understand is, how making rude comments about teen moms in a generalized way, does anything positive...changes anything at all. So many times a teen mom will not be as responsible for their child(ren), they usually cant afford to fully take care of them without assistance, some put their responsibility off on others...and the list goes on. BUT, NOT all teen moms fall under this stereotype. Just like not all responsible(seemingly), older, well established, older parents fall under the "good parent" award category. I've seen teen moms run circles around mothers who would be considered, by most our standards, to be "ready" for motherhood. It's so hard not to make general statements, stereotypical statements...but we have to remember when we do, we just may be including in that, those that just don't belong.
My mom was 16 when I was born. Not only did she become a mom at 16, she became the mother of a child with a disability. At 16 she followed behind an ambulance that was taking her 3 day old in for surgery. Did she have help from family? Yes. Was she ready for all of that? Who really would be, 16 or 30?
What I do believe is, that while I do hate to see a young teenager get pregnant and become a parent at too early of an age, my teen mom what just the mom I needed. She and my dad did not have a college fund set up for me, they were not Mr. and Mrs. when they conceived me, they were no where near ready to start a family, they were still, in a way, kids themselves...all those things typically linked to teen parenthood...they possessed. So why do I think my teen mom was just the mom I needed? I can't imagine how my life would have turned out had I been born to older, financially stable, more responsible adults. My mom never missed an appt. Those all day, horrible, exhausting days of testing. Xrays, labs, EKG, monitors, therapy, etc,etc, etc. She was there. When I had surgery, I never remember one single time I ever closed my eyes with out her being the last person I saw...and I never remember opening my eyes and NOT seeing her there. I can remember her curling up in the hospital bed with me, rubbing my back, talking to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I remember one surgery I had, I started crying and screaming when they were taking me back on the stretcher. I guess I was 6 maybe. I had my arms stretched out and was yelling for her and my dad. I can still see the look on her face. My dad standing there with his arm over her shoulder, and her waving at me, her other hand lightly on her lips with tears running down her face. My teen mom. The first surgery I remember having was when I was 5. I woke up and shortly after returning to my room, went into an absolute fit. I'm not sure where I get my memory of these things from...my Mama Mary could remember anything ...guess I get it from her:) I can hear the doctors saying I was hurting, scared, still confused from the anesthesia...that was not it at all tho. Guess who knew what was really wrong with me? Yep, my teen mom. They had matted my hair down before surgery. I am not sure with what, but when I reached up to twirl my hair in my fingers...It felt like my hair was gone. I must have been too upset to say what was wrong, because I didn't. It didn't, bc she knew. She insisted she or the nurses wash my hair immediately. I remember after, she took her fingers and ran them through my hair. She took my hand and placed it in my hair. When I think if this memory now, I think immediately of Paisley. How I can see her being totally upset for all the not so normal reasons. I was upset bc of my hair, not because I was in pain, scared bc I had been in surgery, none of the normal reasons...but my hair:)
I have stories for days. My mother had her faults, what mom doesn't. She may not have been ready for me, had a college degree, involved in a career, owned a home, had a savings account...but she was a MOM. She made mistakes, like we all do. She learned as she went, like we all do. Had I been born to a mother that was considered "ready" for a child...I'm not quiet so sure I'd be the person I am today. I was never sheltered, never allowed to use my chair as an excuse, never treated any differently than my sister. I never had an accessible shower, van, yard, room, house, nothing but a ramp. If I needed a cup, I climbed the counter and got one. If I needed a bath, I got in the tub and took one. If I wanted to play, I went outside and played. When we went anywhere, I got out of my chair, into the car and buckled up. Some may think, that's crazy. It's not crazy, it was perfect. I went to regular school, I sat in regular desks, I played on the playground, If I wanted to spend the night with a friend...I did bc I did not have to worry about their home being accessible..bc mine was not. I know so many children need all those things bc it is a necessity. But I did not. Had my parents been older I do think more emphasis would have been placed on making things "easier" for me. I'm glad I never had that "luxury". My home today has a ramp. My car has hand controls. I have a wheelchair. That is as far as my modifications go in my life. I do things differently, yes...but without any special accessibility equipment.
My point is, teen parenthood could have happened to sooooo many of us. If we had sex before we were married and while still a teen...it could have happened to any of us. There never is an across the board, "ready" parent. William and I were ready...but I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was even at 26, married, owning a home, etc. Not all teen moms are great moms, not all adults moms are great moms. Sometimes, age just really is insignificant. I am so thankful that I was the daughter of a teen mom. She is responsible for so much of my strength, character, personality...so much a part of that. I love my Independence, always have. I love that I was expected to clean my room just like sister, I had the same chores, the same expectations, the same punishments...equal.
So, before I ever look differently, or down on a teen mom...I stop and remember my AWESOME one! :)
I understand all the reasons why it's looked down on. I do. What I don't understand is, how making rude comments about teen moms in a generalized way, does anything positive...changes anything at all. So many times a teen mom will not be as responsible for their child(ren), they usually cant afford to fully take care of them without assistance, some put their responsibility off on others...and the list goes on. BUT, NOT all teen moms fall under this stereotype. Just like not all responsible(seemingly), older, well established, older parents fall under the "good parent" award category. I've seen teen moms run circles around mothers who would be considered, by most our standards, to be "ready" for motherhood. It's so hard not to make general statements, stereotypical statements...but we have to remember when we do, we just may be including in that, those that just don't belong.
My mom was 16 when I was born. Not only did she become a mom at 16, she became the mother of a child with a disability. At 16 she followed behind an ambulance that was taking her 3 day old in for surgery. Did she have help from family? Yes. Was she ready for all of that? Who really would be, 16 or 30?
What I do believe is, that while I do hate to see a young teenager get pregnant and become a parent at too early of an age, my teen mom what just the mom I needed. She and my dad did not have a college fund set up for me, they were not Mr. and Mrs. when they conceived me, they were no where near ready to start a family, they were still, in a way, kids themselves...all those things typically linked to teen parenthood...they possessed. So why do I think my teen mom was just the mom I needed? I can't imagine how my life would have turned out had I been born to older, financially stable, more responsible adults. My mom never missed an appt. Those all day, horrible, exhausting days of testing. Xrays, labs, EKG, monitors, therapy, etc,etc, etc. She was there. When I had surgery, I never remember one single time I ever closed my eyes with out her being the last person I saw...and I never remember opening my eyes and NOT seeing her there. I can remember her curling up in the hospital bed with me, rubbing my back, talking to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I remember one surgery I had, I started crying and screaming when they were taking me back on the stretcher. I guess I was 6 maybe. I had my arms stretched out and was yelling for her and my dad. I can still see the look on her face. My dad standing there with his arm over her shoulder, and her waving at me, her other hand lightly on her lips with tears running down her face. My teen mom. The first surgery I remember having was when I was 5. I woke up and shortly after returning to my room, went into an absolute fit. I'm not sure where I get my memory of these things from...my Mama Mary could remember anything ...guess I get it from her:) I can hear the doctors saying I was hurting, scared, still confused from the anesthesia...that was not it at all tho. Guess who knew what was really wrong with me? Yep, my teen mom. They had matted my hair down before surgery. I am not sure with what, but when I reached up to twirl my hair in my fingers...It felt like my hair was gone. I must have been too upset to say what was wrong, because I didn't. It didn't, bc she knew. She insisted she or the nurses wash my hair immediately. I remember after, she took her fingers and ran them through my hair. She took my hand and placed it in my hair. When I think if this memory now, I think immediately of Paisley. How I can see her being totally upset for all the not so normal reasons. I was upset bc of my hair, not because I was in pain, scared bc I had been in surgery, none of the normal reasons...but my hair:)
I have stories for days. My mother had her faults, what mom doesn't. She may not have been ready for me, had a college degree, involved in a career, owned a home, had a savings account...but she was a MOM. She made mistakes, like we all do. She learned as she went, like we all do. Had I been born to a mother that was considered "ready" for a child...I'm not quiet so sure I'd be the person I am today. I was never sheltered, never allowed to use my chair as an excuse, never treated any differently than my sister. I never had an accessible shower, van, yard, room, house, nothing but a ramp. If I needed a cup, I climbed the counter and got one. If I needed a bath, I got in the tub and took one. If I wanted to play, I went outside and played. When we went anywhere, I got out of my chair, into the car and buckled up. Some may think, that's crazy. It's not crazy, it was perfect. I went to regular school, I sat in regular desks, I played on the playground, If I wanted to spend the night with a friend...I did bc I did not have to worry about their home being accessible..bc mine was not. I know so many children need all those things bc it is a necessity. But I did not. Had my parents been older I do think more emphasis would have been placed on making things "easier" for me. I'm glad I never had that "luxury". My home today has a ramp. My car has hand controls. I have a wheelchair. That is as far as my modifications go in my life. I do things differently, yes...but without any special accessibility equipment.
My point is, teen parenthood could have happened to sooooo many of us. If we had sex before we were married and while still a teen...it could have happened to any of us. There never is an across the board, "ready" parent. William and I were ready...but I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was even at 26, married, owning a home, etc. Not all teen moms are great moms, not all adults moms are great moms. Sometimes, age just really is insignificant. I am so thankful that I was the daughter of a teen mom. She is responsible for so much of my strength, character, personality...so much a part of that. I love my Independence, always have. I love that I was expected to clean my room just like sister, I had the same chores, the same expectations, the same punishments...equal.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
I'm my own little, original mix... of mimic.
I change my hair color, sometimes to colors not natural...pink...purple:) I love make-up. I love to wear it, change it up, try new things, new eye techniques, MAKEUP! It's been a while, but I do love getting my nails "did"...fake ones, that is. I love clothes. Clothes that are "in" and sometimes clothes that are "last season". I will buy a cheap pair of fake sunglasses in a minute...way faster than some crazy expensive pair for suuuuure. I wear perfume and paint my nails with glitter. I blow dry and straighten or curl my hair most any time I go out. I usually have earrings in that come close to touching my shoulders. My slouchy may be someone else's "dressed up". I prefer tshirts and flip flops LEAST. I own very few tshirts. I put sugar in my coffee and sugar in my tea. I do like being smaller(healthier) as opposed to heavier. I'm amplified. If it's fun, it's suuuuuuuuper fun to me. If I drop my keys while carrying groceries...that is the MOST angry I think I get. If my roof caved in, I'd prob be all "no problem". I am nice to everyone, even people I don't have much in common with or even like much for that matter. I open my mouth and say things I regret. Things I shouldn't even think much less say. I smile when I feel like crying. I cry over the most insignificant things;) I have bling in my lip. I'd like a tattoo... or two, eventually. All those things are a part of who I am, things I like, stuff I enjoy. They are all "fake" in a sense...right? Yep.
Am I always genuinely REAL? Nope. Most people that claim their "realness" are not much diff if they are really honest about it.
I am real enough to say that I am NOT always real.
What is real about me, is the stuff that matters. I may not be real good for some and I may be too good for others.
I really do try and smile so often it becomes habit. Is is fake sometimes? Yes. Someone may ask me out in public...a COMPLETE stranger, "What is wrong with you?" or "What happened to you?" "Oh and let's not forget-"You are too pretty to be in that chair." "How do you take care of a child?" "You can't walk but you still smile."(believe it or not, I actually don't think it's thaaaat bad down here) "YOU drive?" ... goodness, the list actually goes on lol! I smile at those comments and questions. Well, I try. Most the time I try and answer politely. I am rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and holding back a lot of choice words , inside, REALly tho. I have to remind myself that what may offend me, may not someone else. Words that may upset others, may not phase me. Sometimes people are ignorant and nosey...sometimes they seriously do mean no harm at all and may be some of the nicest people on Earth. So, I smile. Regardless how STUPID, inappropriate and disrespectful the comments and questions come across to me as, I try and smile. Is it fake sometimes? OH yes and yes and YESsss! Have I ever put my foot in my mouth, said the wrong things at the wrong time? Yep. So I try and cut some slack. Sometimes people that know me well, say the "wrong" things...but I know they care. I'd rather have people that care, and unintentionally say the wrong things than no one at all. Most people mean no harm in what they say.
Regardless if I smile when I am happy vs when I am annoyed, sad, angry, etc...it's still my smile. My choice of response to whatever someone says, whatever happens to me, whatever the situation. If I smile bc it's heart felt and automatic or if I smile bc it's forced...it's still real to me.
All my fake loves like nails, hair color, makeup, earrings, glitter, clothes, shoes, hair style etc...fake as they are, they are ME. They are things I like bc I like them. Fake as they are, they are small decorations of the real me.
My hobbies are the same hobbies shared my millions...doesn't make me less original. Not many things are really original anymore, they are just given personal touches. Most everything we do and create has been done before. Maybe a little differently, but no matter how original we try and be...we still are little mimics of others around us and others before us. What makes it real is that we own it. I own how I paint, how I dress, how I act and how I do me. I own it. It may be little mimics of people all around me, people that have came and went before me, but it's my own unique MIX of mimic. Nothing absolutely, 100% original...but a unique mix of mimic, of what's "already been done", a little fake and a little natural:)
I am a people pleas errr. Bad trait sometimes. I don't share the arguments I have with my husband to the world... or even a handful of people for that matter. I don't share all my dreams, I don't share all my failures, I don't share all my anger, I don't share all my bad days, some things I just choose not to share or broadcast.
I hide bad photos photos of myself. I try and forget my ungraceful moments. I put my talents on display proudly. On days I think I look my best, I may take a photo of myself. OK, not may...I do;) I boast about how sweet, loving and smart my little girl is and usually keep more quiet about her temper, tantrums, and how many times she has to go to time out any given day. I let the world know how helpful, loving, considerate, patient, and sweet my husband is. No one needs to be let in on the bad days. All relationships have those...but sharing the bad with the world only lets negative in. I am a firm believer in sharing positive, happy things. But I rarely let ugly out in the open. It's not putting on a front, it's being responsible with feelings, emotions and relationships. Some people are slow to share good, some slow to share bad. What really matters is those moments which we will want to look back on in a few days, months, years from now...what will really MATTER then. Will I care that Paisley spilled stuff on the floor all day, or will I most want to remember that time she wrapped her arms around me and said "I love you big as the sky!"? Will I want to be reminded of that time William didn't wash the dishes or left a mess after a project or will I want to look back with a smile on the time I came out of the bedroom to a wild flower sitting on our dinning room table in a plastic drinking cup? See, I just smiled so big thinking about that day<3
I am not always happy. I am not always perfect. My relationship has its faults. My parents get under my skin. My sister is completely opposite from me in so many ways. My child has the most horrible temper I've ever came across, I think she gets it from me;). My house is a mess some days and I absolutely go into a frenzy about it. The litter box gets out of control and my dog jumps on people bc she thinks she is 2lbs instead of 80lbs. My legs are usually more hairy than smooth. I wear paint covered, holey clothes more than my cute, over the top outfits. I pick William's boxer shorts up off the floor most every day of my life. My cat got fleas this year and has thrown up on my bed 3 times in the last month. I can't draw worth a poot. I am absolutely terrified to catch a ball. I have a big, ugly nose. One ear sticks out further than the other and one foot is half a shoe size bigger than the other. I am a total baby when I am sick. I am way bad with money. I am most always, always late. I say yes even when I am already overwhelmed. I love going overboard on everything. I buy Paisley way more than she needs. I read my bible so much less than I should. I don't go to church regularly. I hate not having the last word but I hate stirring up conflict. I am not always blunt and I don't always say what I really feel or mean. I talk about people sometimes before I even realize it. I love kids but I don't have a want to be around a lot of them and often. My family is a circus more times than a civil group of adults. I don't have a group of friends that all are mutual friends...they mostly are a mix of all different "types" of people and personalities. I am so last minute. I judge in others the same traits I possess at times. I have favorites when I shouldn't. I am a very bad visitor(I rarely visit family, they usually visit me)... and I could go on for dayyyyys. I have faults from here to next year.
I have learned you can't please everyone. No matter if you are Mother Teresa, you still will piss people off. (I say piss and I say bad words...but only around certain ppl. in fact, saying piss in this blog was really difficult for me). People will see you and call you out on being fake in every aspect they feel self conscious about in themselves. People will say you are following the crowd. I really hope the people that don't follow "the crowd" realize they are too following a crowd...the crowd that does not follow the crowd.(does that make sense? it does to me at least lol). I look at the things people do, say, like, buy, etc and think "they are trying to be like me." That's normal for us all I think. I was thinking about that the other day and thought to myself a few things:
Who cares if someone is trying to copying anything I do. Go for it. I wish you all the luck. I have enough confidence, or at least I should, in myself and all that I am and all that I do to not feel inferior or upset when any person finds they like something that I like. If it upsets me, that has more to do w me than them. I am sure millions disagree...but I agree with what I just said. I was not the first to do it, wear it, say it, think of it... so I can't expect to be the last right? We are all the same in so many ways, we are all different in so many ways. All my faults and all my bad days and all the faults of the ones I love...I am not any more real for sharing them, than sharing all my more happy, good, positives make me not real. I am aware that the happiest of people have bad days, and even if they are trying to make me feel less than they are...I am the one in control of the outcome of that. I have to remind myself that the most negative people, no matter how much they make me want to shake positive into them, are still good people. We get so caught up in who is doing what, who is accomplishing more, who is accomplishing less, who is fake, who is real, who is mean, who is nice, who is rich, who is poor, who has style, who has none, who is successful, and it's exhausting. We all act like we are in a race at times. We need to be less concerned with what people are doing unless we want to encourage them. Less concerned with what people have unless we want to give to them. less concerned with people's heartbreaks and lows unless we are wanting to be there for them. It has to begin with ME. I can't expect from others that which I am not myself. I have to become this person before I can expect anyone else to be that person. I am not perfect, I am so so so fake at times, I am to my core real more than not, I follow the crowd sometimes, sometimes I lead, sometimes I run from the crowd. I am not perfect and I do look at other's flaws, at times, to make me feel better about me. How long has that ever lasted for me tho. Not long. I have to stay so busy working on me, that I don't have time to analyze anyone else. I realize, more now than ever, how petty and childish WE ALL are as adults. I remember when I use to think adults were so in control. I was wrong. WE are more flawed than ever...I am more flawed than ever. I think sometimes we believe we are right because we are adults. Peace, love, harmony...all that kumbaya stuff is attainable to a certain extent...but not completely. We will always hate in some people, things we don't really mind in others. The people we love the most will baffle us more often than not. We will judge, we will be judged. We will gossip, we will be gossiped about. We will say the wrong things, we be told the wrong things. It's just how it is. What we have to do is hold ourselves to a higher accountability, work on ourselves more, than we do others. It's hard. My grandma always said the harder things in life are usually the right things. Holding your tongue, apologizing, admitting you are wrong, being the first to let go of anger, letting go. I know she was right. I wont always be the best friend, I wont always be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, PERSON...but I can try. So the next time I start to judge or find faults in others...I will try, try to look at myself first and maybe, just maybe, I will find the real reason I want to turn my attention away from myself.
Love,
Uniquely mimicking<3
Am I always genuinely REAL? Nope. Most people that claim their "realness" are not much diff if they are really honest about it.
I am real enough to say that I am NOT always real.
What is real about me, is the stuff that matters. I may not be real good for some and I may be too good for others.
I really do try and smile so often it becomes habit. Is is fake sometimes? Yes. Someone may ask me out in public...a COMPLETE stranger, "What is wrong with you?" or "What happened to you?" "Oh and let's not forget-"You are too pretty to be in that chair." "How do you take care of a child?" "You can't walk but you still smile."(believe it or not, I actually don't think it's thaaaat bad down here) "YOU drive?" ... goodness, the list actually goes on lol! I smile at those comments and questions. Well, I try. Most the time I try and answer politely. I am rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and holding back a lot of choice words , inside, REALly tho. I have to remind myself that what may offend me, may not someone else. Words that may upset others, may not phase me. Sometimes people are ignorant and nosey...sometimes they seriously do mean no harm at all and may be some of the nicest people on Earth. So, I smile. Regardless how STUPID, inappropriate and disrespectful the comments and questions come across to me as, I try and smile. Is it fake sometimes? OH yes and yes and YESsss! Have I ever put my foot in my mouth, said the wrong things at the wrong time? Yep. So I try and cut some slack. Sometimes people that know me well, say the "wrong" things...but I know they care. I'd rather have people that care, and unintentionally say the wrong things than no one at all. Most people mean no harm in what they say.
Regardless if I smile when I am happy vs when I am annoyed, sad, angry, etc...it's still my smile. My choice of response to whatever someone says, whatever happens to me, whatever the situation. If I smile bc it's heart felt and automatic or if I smile bc it's forced...it's still real to me.
All my fake loves like nails, hair color, makeup, earrings, glitter, clothes, shoes, hair style etc...fake as they are, they are ME. They are things I like bc I like them. Fake as they are, they are small decorations of the real me.
My hobbies are the same hobbies shared my millions...doesn't make me less original. Not many things are really original anymore, they are just given personal touches. Most everything we do and create has been done before. Maybe a little differently, but no matter how original we try and be...we still are little mimics of others around us and others before us. What makes it real is that we own it. I own how I paint, how I dress, how I act and how I do me. I own it. It may be little mimics of people all around me, people that have came and went before me, but it's my own unique MIX of mimic. Nothing absolutely, 100% original...but a unique mix of mimic, of what's "already been done", a little fake and a little natural:)
I am a people pleas errr. Bad trait sometimes. I don't share the arguments I have with my husband to the world... or even a handful of people for that matter. I don't share all my dreams, I don't share all my failures, I don't share all my anger, I don't share all my bad days, some things I just choose not to share or broadcast.
I hide bad photos photos of myself. I try and forget my ungraceful moments. I put my talents on display proudly. On days I think I look my best, I may take a photo of myself. OK, not may...I do;) I boast about how sweet, loving and smart my little girl is and usually keep more quiet about her temper, tantrums, and how many times she has to go to time out any given day. I let the world know how helpful, loving, considerate, patient, and sweet my husband is. No one needs to be let in on the bad days. All relationships have those...but sharing the bad with the world only lets negative in. I am a firm believer in sharing positive, happy things. But I rarely let ugly out in the open. It's not putting on a front, it's being responsible with feelings, emotions and relationships. Some people are slow to share good, some slow to share bad. What really matters is those moments which we will want to look back on in a few days, months, years from now...what will really MATTER then. Will I care that Paisley spilled stuff on the floor all day, or will I most want to remember that time she wrapped her arms around me and said "I love you big as the sky!"? Will I want to be reminded of that time William didn't wash the dishes or left a mess after a project or will I want to look back with a smile on the time I came out of the bedroom to a wild flower sitting on our dinning room table in a plastic drinking cup? See, I just smiled so big thinking about that day<3
I am not always happy. I am not always perfect. My relationship has its faults. My parents get under my skin. My sister is completely opposite from me in so many ways. My child has the most horrible temper I've ever came across, I think she gets it from me;). My house is a mess some days and I absolutely go into a frenzy about it. The litter box gets out of control and my dog jumps on people bc she thinks she is 2lbs instead of 80lbs. My legs are usually more hairy than smooth. I wear paint covered, holey clothes more than my cute, over the top outfits. I pick William's boxer shorts up off the floor most every day of my life. My cat got fleas this year and has thrown up on my bed 3 times in the last month. I can't draw worth a poot. I am absolutely terrified to catch a ball. I have a big, ugly nose. One ear sticks out further than the other and one foot is half a shoe size bigger than the other. I am a total baby when I am sick. I am way bad with money. I am most always, always late. I say yes even when I am already overwhelmed. I love going overboard on everything. I buy Paisley way more than she needs. I read my bible so much less than I should. I don't go to church regularly. I hate not having the last word but I hate stirring up conflict. I am not always blunt and I don't always say what I really feel or mean. I talk about people sometimes before I even realize it. I love kids but I don't have a want to be around a lot of them and often. My family is a circus more times than a civil group of adults. I don't have a group of friends that all are mutual friends...they mostly are a mix of all different "types" of people and personalities. I am so last minute. I judge in others the same traits I possess at times. I have favorites when I shouldn't. I am a very bad visitor(I rarely visit family, they usually visit me)... and I could go on for dayyyyys. I have faults from here to next year.
I have learned you can't please everyone. No matter if you are Mother Teresa, you still will piss people off. (I say piss and I say bad words...but only around certain ppl. in fact, saying piss in this blog was really difficult for me). People will see you and call you out on being fake in every aspect they feel self conscious about in themselves. People will say you are following the crowd. I really hope the people that don't follow "the crowd" realize they are too following a crowd...the crowd that does not follow the crowd.(does that make sense? it does to me at least lol). I look at the things people do, say, like, buy, etc and think "they are trying to be like me." That's normal for us all I think. I was thinking about that the other day and thought to myself a few things:
Who cares if someone is trying to copying anything I do. Go for it. I wish you all the luck. I have enough confidence, or at least I should, in myself and all that I am and all that I do to not feel inferior or upset when any person finds they like something that I like. If it upsets me, that has more to do w me than them. I am sure millions disagree...but I agree with what I just said. I was not the first to do it, wear it, say it, think of it... so I can't expect to be the last right? We are all the same in so many ways, we are all different in so many ways. All my faults and all my bad days and all the faults of the ones I love...I am not any more real for sharing them, than sharing all my more happy, good, positives make me not real. I am aware that the happiest of people have bad days, and even if they are trying to make me feel less than they are...I am the one in control of the outcome of that. I have to remind myself that the most negative people, no matter how much they make me want to shake positive into them, are still good people. We get so caught up in who is doing what, who is accomplishing more, who is accomplishing less, who is fake, who is real, who is mean, who is nice, who is rich, who is poor, who has style, who has none, who is successful, and it's exhausting. We all act like we are in a race at times. We need to be less concerned with what people are doing unless we want to encourage them. Less concerned with what people have unless we want to give to them. less concerned with people's heartbreaks and lows unless we are wanting to be there for them. It has to begin with ME. I can't expect from others that which I am not myself. I have to become this person before I can expect anyone else to be that person. I am not perfect, I am so so so fake at times, I am to my core real more than not, I follow the crowd sometimes, sometimes I lead, sometimes I run from the crowd. I am not perfect and I do look at other's flaws, at times, to make me feel better about me. How long has that ever lasted for me tho. Not long. I have to stay so busy working on me, that I don't have time to analyze anyone else. I realize, more now than ever, how petty and childish WE ALL are as adults. I remember when I use to think adults were so in control. I was wrong. WE are more flawed than ever...I am more flawed than ever. I think sometimes we believe we are right because we are adults. Peace, love, harmony...all that kumbaya stuff is attainable to a certain extent...but not completely. We will always hate in some people, things we don't really mind in others. The people we love the most will baffle us more often than not. We will judge, we will be judged. We will gossip, we will be gossiped about. We will say the wrong things, we be told the wrong things. It's just how it is. What we have to do is hold ourselves to a higher accountability, work on ourselves more, than we do others. It's hard. My grandma always said the harder things in life are usually the right things. Holding your tongue, apologizing, admitting you are wrong, being the first to let go of anger, letting go. I know she was right. I wont always be the best friend, I wont always be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, PERSON...but I can try. So the next time I start to judge or find faults in others...I will try, try to look at myself first and maybe, just maybe, I will find the real reason I want to turn my attention away from myself.
Love,
Uniquely mimicking<3
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Stages of grief for a 911 dispatcher.
August 16, 2004-August 11, 2010
I complained about the horrible 12 hour rotating shifts. The days of complete boredom were equally as bad as the days of complete chaos, missed lunches and skipped restroom breaks. Missing birthday parties, working holidays, working extra just to get extra time off. That tiny freezing room and some of those people I came in contact with ugh. I complained about it. I did hate all that.
I loved it regardless. I loved picking up the phone to that one call that sends your blood rushing, your adrenaline into over drive. I loved the commonality I shared with those I worked with...even the ones I wish I didn't work with;) The rush of taking an insane cluster of emergencies and handling them like a rock star. Knowing that I was a piece of the chain that saved a life.
It was an internship. That's all. Something I HAD to do in order to graduate and get to what I REALLY wanted to do. I laugh at how little I know myself sometimes. I smile at how so many things fell in my path that were just what I needed...wanted. 2 months of just an internship and I was hooked...in love.
I remember reminding myself that I did not go to school for this. I had BIGGER plans. I would do this just to get it out of my system and then I would get back on MY plan. I said that each year for almost 6 years:)
The most important people in my life, up until now, are the only ones that knew the impact of August 11, 2010. The rest only saw what I let them. It was personal. Not for all eyes.
I had to leave work. Had to. I was a wife and the mother of a 8 month old and my body was struggling to keep up. Unlike before having our little girl, I now had no downtime to recover from the strain of 12 hours. My legs would swell so badly I would clock out without shoes because they no longer would go on my feet. The pain was awful some days. I felt so weighed down and had no energy to LIVE, really live I mean. My off time was just about recovering so I could do it again. My doctors became concerned due to the increased swelling and other issues it began to cause. They put me out of work. I was optimistic. That's who I am. They will figure this out, they are doctors. I will take medicine or have a procedure and all will be fine.
Nope, none of those were in the cards. My life there at the PD was over. I died a little inside that day.
I don't dare compare my "loss" to that of actually losing a person you love. Because it's not. We each have our own battles, and this one was mine. What I do realize is that it took a toll on me. I went through the stages of loss. I did lose something. Something that was hard to let go of.
Denial:
No way this is getting in my way. I will be back there in no time. A few test, a few second opinions and I will be well on my way. This is not getting the best of me after all these years. It is not happening to me. I worked to hard. It will be OK. There is nothing wrong with me, I can work through this. I can work with this. It's tough but I can tough it out. No. No. No.
Even though we had talked about me leaving and being home with our little girl, it still is completely different when it goes from being an option you have to something u have no control over. I also tried to play the "this is what I wanted" card. I thought it would make me feel better if I tried and made myself and other think this was MY choice. "oh, I want to be a stay at home mom", "this is why I am leaving." No. No. No.
Anger:
How can God do this to me. I never complained or let this chair get in my way. I took it with a smile because it is who I am. How could God let me go to school so many years, build so many dreams of my future and career, let me get SO involved at this place just to strip it away. MAD. MAD. MAD.
I was mad at everything. I was mad at myself for not being strong enough to keep it under control. I was mad when my husband would come home with work stories. "I DO NOT want to hear about your work stories. I have been at this house all day. The only work stories I have left are about a broom, a mop, and spit up." I was so angry. Angry at those that chose to stay home instead of work. They could but didn't, I wanted to but couldn't. MAD. MAD. MAD. So many people able to work, so many people complaining when they are ABLE. Made me sick. I was mad. Not everyday. A lot of days I was fine. Just certain times it would all hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was most mad at myself. Because I was at home with my little girl, feeling better than I had the entire 8 months of her life. But I still wanted to be at work. I beat myself up. What kind of mom would rather be at work than with her baby. What kind of mother wants to cry because she has to stay home all day. What kind of mother am I.
Bargaining:
God, I will never complain about that place again if I can just go back. I will go everyday with a smile on my face. Just give me a few more days there. I just want to answer a few more calls. I will go this, I will do that.... PLEASE.PLEASE. PLEASE.
I don't think I stayed in this stage very long. I vaguely remember thinking any of those. Anger and depression seemed to be the places I stayed in longest. Those are the feelings I remember most. The anger and the crying.
Depression:
Hearing a dispatcher on my husbands radio he forgot to turn off would feel like a punch in my gut. I would go passed a mirror in my pj's and think, this is all u are now. A PJ wearing mom. I would cry at the drop of a hat. I felt numb some days, like I was just going through the motions. I could feel my happy slipping away some days...and I didn't even care to try and catch it. I felt like I was watching a movie. This was not my life, I was watching a sad movie instead. I kept a lot inside. I felt I was overreacting. Being silly over something small. I couldn't sleep or I couldn't get enough sleep. Going through the motions. CRY. CRY. CRY.
Acceptance:
I still get a little sad when I go through the mail and find a letter from APCO(a membership for emergency communications). I've found training pamphlets, notes I wrote, etc while cleaning and you'd think I found a video of someone I lost. I kept my ID badge in my wallet for so long. Felt too official to take it out.
But somewhere along the path, I slowly started to recover. My anger in God turned to understanding. I was so wrapped up in work, it was taking such a toll on my body, I was missing the MOST important things in life: Husband, Baby, family. I look back now and I am almost shocked at how it hit me. Now, I can't imagine my life being back where it was. I wouldn't want to go back. I am IN LOVE with where I am at this moment. So many blessings have been given in return for the loss of one!
I have been able to watch my little girl grow first hand. I've seen things her daddy missed, things I would have missed had I been allowed to keep my hands on the wheel. I've discovered talents I had forgotten I had, discovered new ones as well. I kicked and screamed because I was taken away from where I thought I was suppose to be...only to open my eyes and realize THIS is where I am suppose to be.
I am glad I went through all of that. It was hard. I was a mess. I am still thankful for it.
I miss that part of the old me. Sometimes more than others. What once felt like a loss, like God had turned His back...now feels like a little peace of Heaven...a true gift of a better life:) I am SO thankful for all those that took a punch but stood by me, supported me, and never left my side. My husband is the greatest man alive. He loved me through it all. I love him. He is my rock.
On the days my smile was not really heartfelt...I'm glad I wore it anyways. We all find ourselves on our knees at times...we have no control over the events that bring us there. We do have control over getting back up tho. WE do.
I'm glad I got back up. I'm even standing a little taller than before<3 Thank you God, for your blessings in disguise.
Philippians 4:6-7Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
I complained about the horrible 12 hour rotating shifts. The days of complete boredom were equally as bad as the days of complete chaos, missed lunches and skipped restroom breaks. Missing birthday parties, working holidays, working extra just to get extra time off. That tiny freezing room and some of those people I came in contact with ugh. I complained about it. I did hate all that.
I loved it regardless. I loved picking up the phone to that one call that sends your blood rushing, your adrenaline into over drive. I loved the commonality I shared with those I worked with...even the ones I wish I didn't work with;) The rush of taking an insane cluster of emergencies and handling them like a rock star. Knowing that I was a piece of the chain that saved a life.
It was an internship. That's all. Something I HAD to do in order to graduate and get to what I REALLY wanted to do. I laugh at how little I know myself sometimes. I smile at how so many things fell in my path that were just what I needed...wanted. 2 months of just an internship and I was hooked...in love.
I remember reminding myself that I did not go to school for this. I had BIGGER plans. I would do this just to get it out of my system and then I would get back on MY plan. I said that each year for almost 6 years:)
The most important people in my life, up until now, are the only ones that knew the impact of August 11, 2010. The rest only saw what I let them. It was personal. Not for all eyes.
I had to leave work. Had to. I was a wife and the mother of a 8 month old and my body was struggling to keep up. Unlike before having our little girl, I now had no downtime to recover from the strain of 12 hours. My legs would swell so badly I would clock out without shoes because they no longer would go on my feet. The pain was awful some days. I felt so weighed down and had no energy to LIVE, really live I mean. My off time was just about recovering so I could do it again. My doctors became concerned due to the increased swelling and other issues it began to cause. They put me out of work. I was optimistic. That's who I am. They will figure this out, they are doctors. I will take medicine or have a procedure and all will be fine.
Nope, none of those were in the cards. My life there at the PD was over. I died a little inside that day.
I don't dare compare my "loss" to that of actually losing a person you love. Because it's not. We each have our own battles, and this one was mine. What I do realize is that it took a toll on me. I went through the stages of loss. I did lose something. Something that was hard to let go of.
Denial:
No way this is getting in my way. I will be back there in no time. A few test, a few second opinions and I will be well on my way. This is not getting the best of me after all these years. It is not happening to me. I worked to hard. It will be OK. There is nothing wrong with me, I can work through this. I can work with this. It's tough but I can tough it out. No. No. No.
Even though we had talked about me leaving and being home with our little girl, it still is completely different when it goes from being an option you have to something u have no control over. I also tried to play the "this is what I wanted" card. I thought it would make me feel better if I tried and made myself and other think this was MY choice. "oh, I want to be a stay at home mom", "this is why I am leaving." No. No. No.
Anger:
How can God do this to me. I never complained or let this chair get in my way. I took it with a smile because it is who I am. How could God let me go to school so many years, build so many dreams of my future and career, let me get SO involved at this place just to strip it away. MAD. MAD. MAD.
I was mad at everything. I was mad at myself for not being strong enough to keep it under control. I was mad when my husband would come home with work stories. "I DO NOT want to hear about your work stories. I have been at this house all day. The only work stories I have left are about a broom, a mop, and spit up." I was so angry. Angry at those that chose to stay home instead of work. They could but didn't, I wanted to but couldn't. MAD. MAD. MAD. So many people able to work, so many people complaining when they are ABLE. Made me sick. I was mad. Not everyday. A lot of days I was fine. Just certain times it would all hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was most mad at myself. Because I was at home with my little girl, feeling better than I had the entire 8 months of her life. But I still wanted to be at work. I beat myself up. What kind of mom would rather be at work than with her baby. What kind of mother wants to cry because she has to stay home all day. What kind of mother am I.
Bargaining:
God, I will never complain about that place again if I can just go back. I will go everyday with a smile on my face. Just give me a few more days there. I just want to answer a few more calls. I will go this, I will do that.... PLEASE.PLEASE. PLEASE.
I don't think I stayed in this stage very long. I vaguely remember thinking any of those. Anger and depression seemed to be the places I stayed in longest. Those are the feelings I remember most. The anger and the crying.
Depression:
Hearing a dispatcher on my husbands radio he forgot to turn off would feel like a punch in my gut. I would go passed a mirror in my pj's and think, this is all u are now. A PJ wearing mom. I would cry at the drop of a hat. I felt numb some days, like I was just going through the motions. I could feel my happy slipping away some days...and I didn't even care to try and catch it. I felt like I was watching a movie. This was not my life, I was watching a sad movie instead. I kept a lot inside. I felt I was overreacting. Being silly over something small. I couldn't sleep or I couldn't get enough sleep. Going through the motions. CRY. CRY. CRY.
Acceptance:
I still get a little sad when I go through the mail and find a letter from APCO(a membership for emergency communications). I've found training pamphlets, notes I wrote, etc while cleaning and you'd think I found a video of someone I lost. I kept my ID badge in my wallet for so long. Felt too official to take it out.
But somewhere along the path, I slowly started to recover. My anger in God turned to understanding. I was so wrapped up in work, it was taking such a toll on my body, I was missing the MOST important things in life: Husband, Baby, family. I look back now and I am almost shocked at how it hit me. Now, I can't imagine my life being back where it was. I wouldn't want to go back. I am IN LOVE with where I am at this moment. So many blessings have been given in return for the loss of one!
I have been able to watch my little girl grow first hand. I've seen things her daddy missed, things I would have missed had I been allowed to keep my hands on the wheel. I've discovered talents I had forgotten I had, discovered new ones as well. I kicked and screamed because I was taken away from where I thought I was suppose to be...only to open my eyes and realize THIS is where I am suppose to be.
I am glad I went through all of that. It was hard. I was a mess. I am still thankful for it.
I miss that part of the old me. Sometimes more than others. What once felt like a loss, like God had turned His back...now feels like a little peace of Heaven...a true gift of a better life:) I am SO thankful for all those that took a punch but stood by me, supported me, and never left my side. My husband is the greatest man alive. He loved me through it all. I love him. He is my rock.
On the days my smile was not really heartfelt...I'm glad I wore it anyways. We all find ourselves on our knees at times...we have no control over the events that bring us there. We do have control over getting back up tho. WE do.
I'm glad I got back up. I'm even standing a little taller than before<3 Thank you God, for your blessings in disguise.
Philippians 4:6-7Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
My toddler fed me...some of my own words.
I don't want to put this out in the open. It's not something I am proud of at all. I did not even realize I said it, till I was fed the words back.
It was one of those days. Regardless if you have children or not, we all have those days. The kind of day where anything you touch breaks, spills, and/or causes a domino effect. I was trying to get the house clean, preoccupied with a million things on my mind. The living room was spotless. I cleaned the furniture so good. I leave the room to add softener to the clothes. The phone rings, another distraction. Come back into the living room and my toddler is massaging yogurt into my recliner in an attempt to "my hands get dirty, I wipe um osh".
I should have walked away.
I didn't.
I went into a fit. "You KNOW better. Mama has been cleaning all day, why would you do this?" I could feel the angry look all over my face. I took the yogurt from her tiny hands and angrily slung it into the trash. "You will not eat another yogurt until you learn it goes in your mouth NOT on furniture!" and then as if I didn't already overreact enough..."Next time, get your face out of the TV and ask for a napkin."
The last part I didn't even know I said. Not until she got up, went to her little lunch table, sat down and looked at me and said, "mama, I want nother yogrit please. I sit at my table and I wont get it on your chair." Then comes the part that stopped me in my tracks. The moment she fed me my words. "I will gets my face out the TV and say Maaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaa I need a paper towels I promise."
Ouch.
She heard every.single.word.I.said.
How long will she remember that moment.
How prevalent will that 2 minutes of my slipped tongue be among her lil memories.
She opened my eyes in that moment. The yogurt drying on my freshly cleaned chair no longer seemed a big deal. What was now the big deal was that I let anger get the best of me. It was the first time I'd ever felt like I ate my words. I was shocked at how terrible it sounded when I heard it come from her lips.
I'm not perfect. I know that. I punished myself over and over all day over it. As I write this, I still cringe. I can't take it back. She may always remember that brief moment.
What I did do was immediately go over to her, got on her eye level and told her "baby, mommy is so sorry for getting so mad just now. I love you. Rubbing yogurt on furniture is a No No, but mommy yelling and being mean is a no no too. I'm not mad at you, I love you." While I made a big mistake of losing my temper over something so minor, I hope I made a big deal over admitting I was wrong and apologizing.
You don't ever realize how much your children will help you grow. Between all the care you give them by feeding, changing, rocking, soothing, teaching...you don't realize they are helping you more than you are them. I am so much more aware of my words, my actions, my ATTITUDE, because she is a sponge and takes it all in. Will I ever lose my temper again? I'd bet money on it. Will I be more careful to step back before reacting next time? I'd bet my life on it.
I learned several things in 2 short minutes.
They do listen.
They do watch.
They will remember.
When angry, two steps back are a good thing.
Mistakes hurt more when you learn nothing from them.
Apologize when you are wrong in how you react to a person's actions.
Apologize when you are wrong.
I hope that my actions after spoke louder than my horrible words.
This is a lesson I can use in every relationship I have.
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.
James 1:19
It was one of those days. Regardless if you have children or not, we all have those days. The kind of day where anything you touch breaks, spills, and/or causes a domino effect. I was trying to get the house clean, preoccupied with a million things on my mind. The living room was spotless. I cleaned the furniture so good. I leave the room to add softener to the clothes. The phone rings, another distraction. Come back into the living room and my toddler is massaging yogurt into my recliner in an attempt to "my hands get dirty, I wipe um osh".
I should have walked away.
I didn't.
I went into a fit. "You KNOW better. Mama has been cleaning all day, why would you do this?" I could feel the angry look all over my face. I took the yogurt from her tiny hands and angrily slung it into the trash. "You will not eat another yogurt until you learn it goes in your mouth NOT on furniture!" and then as if I didn't already overreact enough..."Next time, get your face out of the TV and ask for a napkin."
The last part I didn't even know I said. Not until she got up, went to her little lunch table, sat down and looked at me and said, "mama, I want nother yogrit please. I sit at my table and I wont get it on your chair." Then comes the part that stopped me in my tracks. The moment she fed me my words. "I will gets my face out the TV and say Maaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaa I need a paper towels I promise."
Ouch.
She heard every.single.word.I.said.
How long will she remember that moment.
How prevalent will that 2 minutes of my slipped tongue be among her lil memories.
She opened my eyes in that moment. The yogurt drying on my freshly cleaned chair no longer seemed a big deal. What was now the big deal was that I let anger get the best of me. It was the first time I'd ever felt like I ate my words. I was shocked at how terrible it sounded when I heard it come from her lips.
I'm not perfect. I know that. I punished myself over and over all day over it. As I write this, I still cringe. I can't take it back. She may always remember that brief moment.
What I did do was immediately go over to her, got on her eye level and told her "baby, mommy is so sorry for getting so mad just now. I love you. Rubbing yogurt on furniture is a No No, but mommy yelling and being mean is a no no too. I'm not mad at you, I love you." While I made a big mistake of losing my temper over something so minor, I hope I made a big deal over admitting I was wrong and apologizing.
You don't ever realize how much your children will help you grow. Between all the care you give them by feeding, changing, rocking, soothing, teaching...you don't realize they are helping you more than you are them. I am so much more aware of my words, my actions, my ATTITUDE, because she is a sponge and takes it all in. Will I ever lose my temper again? I'd bet money on it. Will I be more careful to step back before reacting next time? I'd bet my life on it.
I learned several things in 2 short minutes.
They do listen.
They do watch.
They will remember.
When angry, two steps back are a good thing.
Mistakes hurt more when you learn nothing from them.
Apologize when you are wrong in how you react to a person's actions.
Apologize when you are wrong.
I hope that my actions after spoke louder than my horrible words.
This is a lesson I can use in every relationship I have.
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.
James 1:19
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Just try Mama, I help you.
"Just try mama, I help you." My almost 3 year old is more my hero than I am hers. I always knew God would send the perfect child to me. A child that would push me to be greater than great.
I prepared myself, as much as possible, for the days when her curiosity would zero in on me. I knew the time would come when she would begin to try and understand why I sit when all other moms walk. I expected it.
What I did not expect was the concern, the intense want to understand not just know. The way she tilted her head to one side with the sweetest eyes and most assured voice while saying "Just try mama, I help you." She wanted me to try and walk...with her help. I never imagined how proud one little statement would make me feel while at the same time suffocating me. This tiny, 26 lb little girl that I helped take her first steps...she wanted to help me do the same. So much concern and love in her words and in her beautiful brown, speckled green eyes. I was so proud of her faith in me...suffocated that I already knew I would not be able to do what she believed she could help me do.
It's been the topic of a lot of random conversations with her lately. "When you get bigger, then you walk?" "When I get big, I will carry you like daddy!" "You had surgeries when you was little like me, that make you sad?" "I walk, daddy walk, you push your chair." I know this is just the beginning. While she is curious for answers now, she is content with the most simple answer.
I am one of those people that may slightly, or more so, irk others around me with my constant smile and positive attitude. So, of course I look on the brighter side of this journey. This journey that I make slightly diff than most. What could I dwell on? hmmm... That I can't chase after my child, that I can't stand in the deep end of a pool and help her swim. That I will never hold her hand and run through the sand into the ocean. That I can't help her climb up a big inflatable so she can slide down. I can't hold her by her hands and spin her around in circles. I will not be able to teach her to hula hoop, jump rope, play hop scotch, dance...the list could go on for hours. Nope, I wont dwell on those things. Will they cross my mind more than once? Yes, they already have. I will not DWELL on them. Nope, I am bigger than that...she deserves more than that. Dwelling on the negatives will only cause me to miss so much that is good and positive. Positive? Yes, I could go on for days instead of hours on positive...don't forget I am the optimist:) She loves to ride in my lap, I can paint with her, take her to the park, to the zoo, swing her, run through a sprinkler with her, read to her, draw with her, play babies with her, LOVE her, encourage her, BE there for her...the list goes on. Most importantly tho, I have an opportunity to show her that differences are OK, that positive thinking can completely turn a situation around, that obstacles make you stronger! I want her to understand faith is not having things go perfectly, but instead knowing everything is part of a bigger plan!
We are only as strong as our biggest battle fought! I love her curiosity. I love her concern for me. I love her faith in me. I love her for pushing me. I love her.
I don't know what is ahead of us on our journey, but I plan on rollin' with it:)
I prepared myself, as much as possible, for the days when her curiosity would zero in on me. I knew the time would come when she would begin to try and understand why I sit when all other moms walk. I expected it.
What I did not expect was the concern, the intense want to understand not just know. The way she tilted her head to one side with the sweetest eyes and most assured voice while saying "Just try mama, I help you." She wanted me to try and walk...with her help. I never imagined how proud one little statement would make me feel while at the same time suffocating me. This tiny, 26 lb little girl that I helped take her first steps...she wanted to help me do the same. So much concern and love in her words and in her beautiful brown, speckled green eyes. I was so proud of her faith in me...suffocated that I already knew I would not be able to do what she believed she could help me do.
It's been the topic of a lot of random conversations with her lately. "When you get bigger, then you walk?" "When I get big, I will carry you like daddy!" "You had surgeries when you was little like me, that make you sad?" "I walk, daddy walk, you push your chair." I know this is just the beginning. While she is curious for answers now, she is content with the most simple answer.
I am one of those people that may slightly, or more so, irk others around me with my constant smile and positive attitude. So, of course I look on the brighter side of this journey. This journey that I make slightly diff than most. What could I dwell on? hmmm... That I can't chase after my child, that I can't stand in the deep end of a pool and help her swim. That I will never hold her hand and run through the sand into the ocean. That I can't help her climb up a big inflatable so she can slide down. I can't hold her by her hands and spin her around in circles. I will not be able to teach her to hula hoop, jump rope, play hop scotch, dance...the list could go on for hours. Nope, I wont dwell on those things. Will they cross my mind more than once? Yes, they already have. I will not DWELL on them. Nope, I am bigger than that...she deserves more than that. Dwelling on the negatives will only cause me to miss so much that is good and positive. Positive? Yes, I could go on for days instead of hours on positive...don't forget I am the optimist:) She loves to ride in my lap, I can paint with her, take her to the park, to the zoo, swing her, run through a sprinkler with her, read to her, draw with her, play babies with her, LOVE her, encourage her, BE there for her...the list goes on. Most importantly tho, I have an opportunity to show her that differences are OK, that positive thinking can completely turn a situation around, that obstacles make you stronger! I want her to understand faith is not having things go perfectly, but instead knowing everything is part of a bigger plan!
We are only as strong as our biggest battle fought! I love her curiosity. I love her concern for me. I love her faith in me. I love her for pushing me. I love her.
I don't know what is ahead of us on our journey, but I plan on rollin' with it:)
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