tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-150426102024-03-13T06:01:16.473-05:00Some Words...Some Words about Some things that matterNetworkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.comBlogger339125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-73138886655393042112010-12-05T13:32:00.003-06:002010-12-05T13:40:41.104-06:00from where I wasIt has been a long time since I posted on here but e.e. sent me a message with something I wrote some time ago and it reminded me how important this place was to me. It was a place many parts of myself healed while ironically others broke as a result of a chain reaction. It's strange how you can never really be 'whole' once there's a piece missing. It's like you turn the puzzle piece round and round trying to make it fit but it never really does and eventually you just accept that you're one of those puzzles that will always be missing pieces.<br /><br />I started writing on another blog not long after my dad died which has been 6 1/2 months ago. Those of you who followed my words know that a lot of my pain came from dealing with my dad but somehow my dad and I built a relationship we both cherised. I'm very broken since he's gone; more broken than before. Please visit me there...especially you e.e. because you helped me so many times, in so many ways and quite honestly I still think about you.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thehopeinside.wordpress.com/">thehopeinside.wordpress.com</a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-51676158251926724752009-12-30T09:02:00.002-06:002009-12-30T09:08:19.572-06:00selfishness and angelsSometimes I am so completely selfish. I put my own woes up at the top of the list as if they could even compare to the plight others suffer. The little boy I spoke of before died this morning. He lost the fight to Leukemia and now God has one more angel in heaven. It makes you sad, it makes you open your eyes, and it makes you feel selfish and stupid and incredibly small. Dax died today, one day before the start of a new year, and I have to believe that he wanted to make sure his parents didn't start a new year hanging on to something he knew they could not have, him. I want to be different, not just for today, every day. I want to lay down my selfish ways and be grateful for the gifts I have so graciously been given. <br /><br />Rest in peace little man and thank you for the miracles you left back here on earth.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-61569704678975214882009-12-17T11:28:00.005-06:002009-12-17T12:22:10.840-06:00in God we trust...I'm sitting here now wondering how it is that I got back to this place I swore I'd never be again. The place where trusting someone seems impossible because the person you trusted is absolutely not the person you thought you were trusting. Trust is a tricky thing isn't it? We are born with it but somewhere along the line it becomes less of an innate ability and more of an achieved one. Can you remember the first moment when you realized that trusting someone also meant putting yourself on the line? Can you remember how it felt the first time someone you trusted proved unworthy of that trust? I can. Let me tell you that the pit at the bottom of your stomach feels exactly the same as it did the first time someone let you down. I suppose one might think you would get used to getting hurt but the truth is that the one hundredth time you get hurt is just as bad as the first time.<br /><br />I thought that by now I'd be a master at discovering someone's dishonesty but I suppose we get so immersed in our daily lives that those skills tend to slack off. Well, I know now and that's what counts right? I'd like to say I'm a big enough person to forgive, to hand out another chance, but I am not so sure I am. It seems like there have been so many times in my life where I had to forgive someone, had to give them a second chance, that at some point I'd be fresh out of both. <br /><br />As I laid my head on my pillow last night I knew only one thing for sure, God is the only person I can put my trust in and even that is hard sometimes. He must have a plan for me but I'd really like to have a clue as to what it is. Surely it can't be this...what it is at this moment.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-66329590868776148122009-12-01T15:27:00.004-06:002009-12-01T15:57:38.931-06:00MisunderstandingsA long time ago I never thought about death. It wasn't that I thought I was invincible it was that I was young and when you are young you believe life will go on forever. Young people are not supposed to die. I was woken up today by my phone vibrating from a new e-mail from a journal I signed up for about a little boy named <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dax</span>. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dax</span> is two 1/2. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dax</span> is dying. He has incurable leukemia and just days to live. I don't know this little boy, he lives down the street from my mom, but I cried when I read how weak he has become. I wanted to scream at God and honestly the only reason I didn't is because my kids were still asleep. There have been many times in my life when I've questioned God's intentions, his reasoning, his compassion. This little boy is suffering, his parents are suffering - where is the compassion in that? There have been other times I've questioned God's plan like the time when I laid on the floor with a broken heart, in so much pain that I could not lift myself up off the floor. I figured that one out, that broken heart made me stronger, but how can taking a child's life, making him suffer his last days on earth, make anyone stronger?<br /><br />I'd like some answers. I've been patient through my life waiting for His agenda to work itself out while my own faded into the background. I can't imagine any sort of good coming from losing a child and I don't think I ever want to understand.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-73578849541702591442009-11-09T15:29:00.003-06:002009-11-09T15:50:09.641-06:00The struggles that brought me here...Recently someone posted a comment on a post I made back in 2005 "I stayed for me" which made me want to read it again...even though I remembered exactly what it said. As I sat there reading the words about the struggle I went through to find myself after a bad break-up I realized how much I've changed because of those struggles. It seems like a million years back to that person I was before; the person who let a man define her. But even though it seems so long ago I still question how I became that person opposed to this one that I am now? Do we learn it from someone or do we just happen upon it like the lottery except you don't win anything wonderful? I remember watching my mom as a strong career woman where she was respected and even feared yet in her personal life she let men convince her that her worth would only be determined by them. My mom lived as two people, the strong single mom who provided for two kids, became the first woman vice president in her company, and the woman who never believed she controlled her own destiny. Do we consciously teach our kids that they alone determine their fate or do we teach them that everything else except them is responsible for where they end up? Money, education, status....these are what we place so much importance on and we're idiots. Money can't make you a good person, education can teach you how to add two plus two but it can't teach you to have morals. Status can make you appear important - on the outside, but it can't actually make you important to yourself.<br /><br />Now that I'm a mother I pray my daughter will not have the same heartaches, the same struggles, or the same anguish I had over trying to convince myself my self worth was only determined by me. I know she'll feel the pain of a broken heart but I want to teach her to let it hurt and then let it go...something it took me years to master. I don't want to have to teach her that she's in charge of her own destiny, I want her to know it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">instinctively</span>.<br /><br />To that young woman who reminded me why I am who I am right here right now, thank you. Sometimes we forget how hard we struggled to get to the place we are now which also makes us ungrateful for the circumstances that surround us. Circumstances change but what we are worth no matter what moment we are in - does not.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-72474988913585695892009-11-05T08:24:00.006-06:002009-11-05T08:44:22.656-06:00Self Actualization<strong><em>Self Actualization</em></strong> - <em>the process of establishing oneself as a whole person; the ability to develop one's abilities or to understand one's self.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Have you done it? Have you even tried or did you give up long ago when you realized what an uphill battle it was? Call me an optimist, call me stupid, but I have been trying to get there, to get 'self actualized' for a very long time. There have been moments when I thought I was close, the birth of my children, success in my career, and then just as I felt the moment was near - 'Plop' down I slid right onto my ass. So what do you do when all those self admiring thoughts you had of yourself become MIA? You kick yourself in the hind end, hold your head up high and begin the climb again. Recently my backside has taken quite a beating as I try desperately to convince myself I'm worth the effort. I'm there...self actualized that is, at least I think the end is near. So how did I finally manage to grab the gold? I stopped listening to myself and went back to the beginning - the place where I began my journey and low and behold there I was, the parts of me I thought were lost or buried or burned beyond recognition. We get lost in our expectations so much so that expectations become the reminders of the failures that have filled our lives. We let them define us, shape us, envelope us until there isn't much left for anyone to recognize.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I woke up yesterday and realized that the very things that cause me to keep waking up, to keep climbing the hill - are the reason I am self actualized or whole or able to understand myself. I am whole despite the bruises, despite the pieces I've left behind because they were too painful to carry; I am what I am Sam I am. Acceptance....it is one of the hardest things you will ever achieve and the most rewarding. Now go look in the mirror and learn to love that reflection staring back at you.</em><div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-46411253527154333082009-10-20T14:58:00.004-05:002009-10-20T15:10:50.948-05:00Sacrifice...When I was a kid my dad would always tell me that those willing to sacrifice will always be the ones first rewarded. I wasn't sure what sacrifice meant way back then and sometimes I'm still not sure. <br /><br />When I was still working sacrifice must have been the horrible commute I unhappily drove every day to ensure my children had a secure future. Sacrifice must have been the lunches I never took because someone always seem to need something from me right about noon. Sacrifice most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> were the hours I worked after I put my children to bed sometimes until it was almost time to start the day over again. I look back at these 'sacrifices' and start to wonder who the hell I was doing them for and when exactly are the rewards going to start rolling in? Surely the reward wasn't getting let go from a job that I dedicated so much of my life to just because it was cheaper to hire a consultant to do my job. And the reward isn't the endless amount of time I spend searching job boards, posting resumes, and trying to convince people I'm not as worthless as my prior employer made me feel. And the reward cannot be the fact that I am so damn pissed off that I even have to go back to work because I absolutely love being with my kids and it's just no fair that some women get to have husbands that bring home the bacon and it's enough to fill four plates. Maybe my dad had it wrong, those that sacrifice are not the ones rewarded first, they are the ones left stuck in the burning building because they let everyone else escape first.<br /><br />Sacrifice should never be done in anticipation of a reward because trust me my friend, you'll be waiting a very long time to cash in. If you want to sacrifice just make sure you are doing it for all the right reasons.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-76787135933424328662009-10-14T09:06:00.003-05:002009-10-14T09:23:10.637-05:00Somewhere in there....Sometimes in non-particular moments of the day I get flashes of what my life used to be like and for a split second I feel envy of that 'girl' I used to be. It isn't that I regret having children or getting married, it's that I have not been able to combine the best of both <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">selves</span> into one. I used to be more creative writing songs and playing the guitar but now there seems to be little time to do anything more creative than making a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Halloween</span> costume for my kids. Yes yes I know those are important things and there is some gratification when their eyes light up and they prance around in their costume 24/7 but gratification has taken on such a different form now days. I remember when being gratified came from a few hours of Guinness and some hot...well you know. It is so amazing how a lifetime whizzes past you in a blaze of Glory. Don't misunderstand me, I do have many moments of happiness and peace when I look at my children but sometimes it is so hard to be <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">someone's</span> everything when you feel the emptiness creeping up inside you. Sometimes I feel pathetic for how I feel which seemingly all stems from being unemployed and unable to convince someone that your talents extend beyond a stay-at-home mom. I used to be that 'girl' that wowed everyone because there were so few women in technology. Now I'm just that women that used to do something that used to be important but it's gotten lost in the layers of the crappy economy.<br /><br />How the hell do you take the anger and release it? I've tried that whole 'push it down and bury it' method and trust me....it doesn't work. I should be able to figure this out, to be happy regardless of the circumstances, but it is always just out of reach. I have to be somewhere in there beneath the anger, outside of the resentment, and inside a glass house that shakes in fear of someone with a stone in their hand.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-65354002321516768402009-10-11T20:49:00.004-05:002009-10-11T21:09:26.216-05:00Coming back....It has been so long since I've been in this place but I'm so lost from searching where I belong or what meaning my life has that it seemed logical to start in the place where I felt it all made sense.<br /><br />I've tried to begin so many times now that it seems I'm already nearing the end and I have not even figured out what goes in the middle. I lost my job last December, a job that I put so many blood sweat and tears into that I rarely had any left for myself. I suppose a person could take comfort that so many other people in this economy have ended up the exact same place I have but for some reason I find little warmth in that knowledge. I'm pissed off of course but less about losing my job and more about the way I was treated. Our company went through a reorganization and in with the new came the evil lurking right behind it. People that once were so valued were now worth less than a penny at the bottom of my purse. I guess I was lucky up until that point because hard work always paid off for me and I felt 'appreciated'. Isn't it amazing how you can have so much in your life, a great husband, two wonderful children, but the moment your job stops treating you like a human being you fall off the cliff.<br /><br />So here I am exactly where I have been for months now, home with my children which pleases me immensely because they have been my salvation. So how then do I feel so lost? So pissed off? Because life costs money and although my husband is still working, thank God, I'm used to being able to purchase things I need without worrying. Today my cat died, he was fifteen. As I sat there next to him listening to him take his last breaths I shouted at God, "What exactly is your plan for me?" I'm so angry, at Him, at myself, at that stupid company that stole the future I had planned out. I used to be able to afford things like an ultra sound for a pet that needed one but now, I cannot. Now I have to weigh which life is more important, my children's or my pet's. Of course I pick my kids but the point is that before I never had to make decisions like that.<br /><br />So here I am back to this place that gave me solace, a place that provided an outlet to years of pent up anger towards my parents, and a place where somehow I figured it all out and felt whole again. I'm not feeling so whole right now since pieces of me seem to be sputtering down the drain with the rest of my lost plans.<br /><br />It'll help right? Writing words that total strangers will judge me by? Of course it will because right now being anonymous is exactly how I've felt for the past months.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-88686137389996359392008-11-10T07:52:00.002-06:002008-11-10T08:04:04.511-06:00being selfishSometimes I remember how selfish I used to be, not on purpose, but out of shear ignorance. I used to be the center of my own universe and my days were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">solely</span> about me. It sounds much worse than it was. I was single, no children, no boyfriend (at least not a serious one), and my life had no real meaning. I liked myself, sort of, but in actuality when I look back I'm not really sure there was much substance to it all. Once upon a time I planned on having children but then age and circumstance seem to push that 'plan' aside and I'd resolved myself to the fact that I'd never be a mom. Well fate had other plans for me, thank God! I still remember the night I found out I was pregnant and there wasn't one moment that I wished it wasn't true. My boyfriend (now husband) thought differently, he was 4 years younger than I and believe it or not...more selfish than I. I didn't care what he thought, I was going to be a mom and that in an instant changed everything. I'm not sure if it was my determination or my willingness to go it alone that brought him around, but by the time Alice was born he was as non-selfish as I was.<br />It still amazes me that someone can live their whole life centered around <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">themselves</span> and then in an instant their life becomes someone <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">else's</span>. <br /><br />If I were younger, maybe I'd resent the fact that every moment of my day is about my children, but I'm not younger. Even in the moments when I'm tired and feel as if my head will explode if I hear 'mommy, mommy, mommy' one more time, I'm thankful. Thankful that I am not selfish. Thankful that I have someone else to live for. Thankful that someday my children will grow up and realize they are selfish....and then they'll decide not to be.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-20519898990546213152008-11-06T12:41:00.002-06:002008-11-06T12:59:22.824-06:00circles around myselfI keep coming back here. It takes days, months, sometimes a whole year - yet I return, loyally. My life turns and turns and seems to come back to the same point no matter how many times I swear off my return. Maybe I should stop running. I suppose there are things that become a part of you no matter how often you try to shake them loose or shove them deep into the recesses of your mind. I went to a therapist recently because I was angry. It's not that being angry is abnormal but not knowing why you are so pissed off isn't exactly healthy. I suppose I was a little surprised when we started to talk about my childhood and my blood pressure rose; I thought I'd dealt with my demons. Apparently denial is not the same as dealing with something! So, I continue to go but the therapist suggested I start blogging again, it's a release of all the things I can't seem to share any other place.<br /><br />So I'm here. I uploaded a recent picture of my babies partly to remind me happiness can be simple if you let it be, and partly because looking at them inspires me to be something better than I am. I wish it was easier to remember how to be happy.<br /><br />I'll be back....sooner than later.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-30086353033628539082008-01-17T14:21:00.000-06:002008-01-17T14:33:42.698-06:00In the back of my mindIn the back of my mind I remember my dad is an alcoholic; It's not really something you can forget even if you've tried your whole life. The past few years it's been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">OK</span>, meaning he hasn't made any of his drunken calls expressing his love for me and for the most part he doesn't even drink when I'm around. I know it's not a cure but him drinking less sometimes is the straw that doesn't break the camel's back. Some things you learn to accept either because you have no choice or you've thrown away so much time and energy trying to change them that there just isn't enough fight left in you to do anything else. So, there I was not even thinking about my dad's disease and he calls me - drunk. Even though it's been at least 2 years since he's done that, the old familiar sickness in the pit of my stomach came rushing back as if it was just moments ago. My dad means well, he calls to tell me he loves me when he's sober too (which lately has been more often than not), but for some reason he doesn't get it. Love means nothing to me when it's being recited through an alcoholic channel. I stop listening. I stop wanting to exist in the same realm. Basically I run and hide inside myself because in there, the world is much safer.<br /><br />If I were twenty, I'd call my dad up and chew him out for putting me through that again, but I'm forty now. At forty, my days of preaching seem to be far behind. I keep wondering at what age his disease will stop bothering me? At what age will I stop rationalizing his 'moment of weakness' up against the ones where he fails miserably? At what age will I just stop expecting him to be any different than I know he is? Maybe that age has passed and I forgot to take note of it. Maybe it will never come.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-13250515482682230792008-01-11T14:41:00.001-06:002008-01-11T14:49:46.782-06:00to forgiveHave you ever wondered why you don't need to teach a child how to forgive? It's like they are born with that ability automatically. I'm not sure that's actually a good thing because there are some things that just don't deserve forgiveness, but still, I've wondered at what age, at what point, do we learn not to forgive. I've held my fair share of grudges, even against myself. I've gone years holding on to pain because I just couldn't bring myself to forgive a wrong committed against me. I can't even remember when I learned the difference between forgiveness and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">acceptance</span> which incidentally are not the same thing. There are many things I've just accepted but when I really am honest with myself, I know the forgiveness part, well that's something all together different.<br /><br />I want to teach my kids about <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">forgiveness</span>, not so they'll know how to do it but so they'll know how to give it when it's deserved, when it's needed, when forgiving someone is just as much for you as it is for the person <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">receiving</span> it. I'm not sure how I'll go about teaching this lesson. Maybe I'll tell them all the things I wish I would have forgiven a long time ago. The things that ended up being the very same things I needed to forgive myself for.<br /><br />Forgiveness. It's still something I struggle with, but I've learned to accept that.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-84032204419530823322008-01-09T14:48:00.000-06:002008-01-09T14:58:36.542-06:00When the mind is weak...I've blogged about my step dad before; he has <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Alzheimer's</span>. Of course he's worse than the last time I wrote about him, people with that disease don't get better. But his body, it's gotten stronger. It's like some cruel trick that life plays on you...as your mind gets weaker your body tries to make up for the difference by getting stronger. It's not fair really, because who wants to be healthy when you don't have the sense to enjoy it? Of course that actually describes a heck of a lot of people doesn't it? How often do we wake up and thank the heavens that we feel great? Usually the only time anyone in the heavens hears us is when we have something to complain about. But my step dad...he's so lost. His body wants to go one way and his mind another leaving him walking in circles trying to find some compromise between the two. I'm not sure there is a compromise, at least not for him. For us it's the small moments of recognition that flicker in his eyes. We hold on to those moments because they are all he has to offer. Sometimes it amazes me how little we're willing to accept to make us feel better about something we're surely losing. I have to wonder, what makes him feel better? Does he feel anything other than pain? Does he remember that he used to be whole? I want to believe that he doesn't because to me, remembering what you used to have is much worse than forgetting it.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-28734670599173522522008-01-08T08:24:00.000-06:002008-01-08T08:34:53.825-06:00Somewhere under the Negative...I got in trouble yesterday at work. I'm not the type to deny making mistakes but this time I was the scapegoat for someone else screwing up. Apparently someone more important than me so you know how it goes...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Shiest</span> always rolls down hill right? So anyway while I'm in my bosses' office and he's telling me what I did wrong he also tells me what a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fabulous</span> job I've done the past year. As he's telling me that he has to write me up I ask him if he's also going to write me up for the compliment he just gave me and put that in my file too. I'm cursed with the smart arse jean! But really, why is it that you can do a stellar job and no one ever comes to you and pats you on the back but you screw up one time in 4 years and they are on you like a fly on...well you know! As a parent I make it a point of telling my kids how well they do at lots of things because I don't ever want them to think that I only notice the bad stuff but in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">reality</span> the world just doesn't work that way. We remember the bad things people say about us, not the compliments. Why is that? Don't people realize that the more you focus on the negative, the more negative a situation becomes? I guess that accentuating the positive just isn't the way we work is it?<br /><br />Well I don't want to be that way so right now I'm making a point to focus on the positive...even though it's raining cats and dogs outside and I'm really pissed off at my boss...here it goes:<br /><br />It's raining...but at least the salt and grime got washed off my car this morning on my way to work.<br /><br />I'm tired, but at least it's Tuesday and not Monday which means I only have 3 more days to go until it's the weekend.<br /><br />I got in trouble at work, but at least my boss thinks I do a great job otherwise.<br /><br />That person that played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">CYA</span> by blaming their mistake on me...well they'll probably lay in bed tonight with guilt plaguing their shallow soul. (oops that didn't sound so positive).<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ok</span> that's enough because honestly at the moment I'm not feeling all that positive. I get points for trying though right?<br /><br />Happy Tuesday.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-69004202577530453172008-01-04T14:55:00.000-06:002008-01-04T15:07:17.038-06:00Two days in a row<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/R36f_KVUvVI/AAAAAAAACfM/vdEj1r1tDR8/s1600-h/collage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151730931212795218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/R36f_KVUvVI/AAAAAAAACfM/vdEj1r1tDR8/s400/collage.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ok, now I've been swamped today but I promised myself I was going to write...so here I am. This whole week has been going so slowly which is sort of ironic because this whole past month I've complained about how quickly time flies. My son turned 1 in December, can you believe it? It really does just seem like yesterday that I was big and preggie and now here I am chasing that little guy around. He's not walking yet...but the way he's cruising around the furniture and behind his push walker...it'll be no time before his little feet carry him all on their own. My daughter is going to be 4 the end of February and she's much smarter than me, or at least she thinks so. The drama in our house is beyond crazy...who would have thought it would start this soon. But anyway, time passes so often and we never seem to notice it much until some milestone happens and then we go, "Where did the time go". I remember when I was a kid I'd always say, "I can't wait to be a grown up," and my mother would say, "don't wish your life away." Boy was she right. Most times being a grown kind of sucks. What I wouldn't give to be a kid again when the most important decision I had to make was which friend I wanted to invite over after school.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Oh well....to leave you with a few pics of my life lately enjoy some pics of my beautiful angels. I'll be back soon.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-33793040641848515772008-01-03T08:45:00.001-06:002008-01-03T08:52:34.897-06:00And so it begins...I've been away for awhile. I thought about coming back so many times but I've been so busy with life that every time I started to write something, something else got in the way. Have you ever been there before, when the biggest thing standing in your way, is yourself? Well, it's another year and I'm another year older (I just turned 40 on Jan. 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nd</span>) so I've decided to step aside and get on with myself.<br /><br />My birthday kind of sucks. Not only is everyone usually broke and hung over, I also get to make new years resolutions and then turn a year older right after them. This year was a little harder, leaving my 30's trailing behind. Everyone makes such a big deal about turning 40 that I sort of psyched myself up to feel horrible so when it actually got here, I didn't feel much of anything. I'm really good at that ya know...not feeling anything. It's this bad habit I've learned to perfect in the last 40 years. Maybe I'll spend the next 40 years trying to break it.<br /><br />So, a new year's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">resolution</span> for me is that I am going to start blogging again. I've missed my blogger friends. Hell, I've missed myself. You know when I sit back and think about my life I'm pretty damn lucky. My kids are healthy, I bought a new house a few months back, my husband is pretty decent (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hee</span>), and 40 is supposed to be the start of the best years of my life. Well, we'll see.<br /><br />I hope you all had wonderful holidays. I'm here now...and I'm staying. Kick my butt if I waiver on that one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">OK</span>? I've discovered that everyone needs a good butt kicking every once in awhile.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-67057268042860798862007-09-19T11:14:00.001-05:002007-09-19T11:21:12.825-05:00The moments you remember...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">KimmyK</span> asked about my step father...thank you for remembering.<br /><br />He is as well as can be expected. He's in the advanced stages of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Alzheimer's</span> but it's strange because he still remembers us. He can't remember how to tie his shoes or get dressed but when when Alice runs to him screaming "papa papa," his arms open wide to hold her as close as he can. Maybe him remembering us is God's way of retribution, at least for now. I am grateful he knows my name, grateful more that he remembers his love for my mom. I can't imagine how hard it would be to watch someone you devoted your life to, forget you.<br /><br />The value of one's life really can't be measured by the number of moments that happened in your life. The value of one's life is measured by the moments you can remember.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-50195636456417039112007-09-17T11:07:00.000-05:002007-09-17T11:20:51.511-05:00Silence....For so much of my life I've dreaded silence. I remember trying to fill up the moments in my life with noise so that the silence never trapped me in a world with no escape. Noise came in many forms, men who were never good enough to keep my company, drugs or alcohol that filled my head with so much garbage there was no chance of a quiet moment, and many many conversations with myself just because the sound of a voice - even if it was my own, was better than no sound at all.<br /><br />This morning I came to work early, 7:00 a.m. to be exact, and as I sat down to turn on my computer I realized that something was different; I couldn't hear anything. It wasn't that I was deaf or that I wasn't listening, it was that I was surrounded by silence. For a moment I wasn't sure how I felt about that silence. To be honest, silence is something I rarely have a chance to experience so when it was there, staring me in the face, I sort of froze. I let it wrap around me and sink into my bones and you know what? It felt wonderful. I could hear my heart beat and even though I know I'm alive...I have forgotten to feel that thump in my chest to verify its existence.<br /><br />It's amazing how many things you can hear when the world is silent. Maybe all this time that I've been filling up my moments with noise I should have been putting my ear plugs in.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-67779283166160419952007-09-14T14:46:00.000-05:002007-09-14T14:55:24.399-05:00When you are lost...I've been away for so long, willingly some of the time - not so willingly the other. Time has flown by since the birth of Patrick, he's already 9 months old, but it's always amazed me how sometimes when the rest of life is flying by - parts of it remain still. I suppose it's like taking a picture of yourself, one that shows off your best angle; you tuck it away in a hidden drawer so that sometime down the road you can take it out and remember how one time, you liked yourself. It's not that I don't like the me that's here now, it's that there are parts I liked better before. Ah...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">anyway</span>, such is life right? Maybe that's why I stayed away from blogging for so long, so I could somehow find that part of myself that makes me grateful that I'm in this skin.<br /><br />So...while I was away I bought a new house which is pretty much why I've had no time. It was such a big change moving from the city back to the country (well not exactly country but after you live in Chicago anything outside of it is country). I actually have a yard now and we can see stars every night. I never really imagined how awful it could be not to see stars. We take them for granted ya know, but trust me, when they are invisible - you miss them.<br /><br />I guess I'm back and although I've been meaning to come back for some time, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Keda</span> made it real for me. You know...I've really missed this place and all of you.<br /><br />I'll be back tomorrow. I promise.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-13361490805161662332007-04-23T14:34:00.000-05:002007-04-23T14:53:54.681-05:00Somewhere in the details...<a href="http://soberrant.blogspot.com/">Trudging</a> left a comment on my last post <em><span style="color:#3366ff;">'God is somewhere there...in the details.'</span></em> I kept reading that statement over and over and realized that thought should be something I remember every single day. I'm not sure she knows just how profound that statement is but usually that's when statements have the most effect, when we just speak from the heart with little fore thought.<br /><br />God has always been a part of my life. He's been there for the lowest points when I almost believed He'd forgotten me. He's been there for the highlights when I was grateful that He'd remembered me. There have been moments I questioned His intentions; moments I teetered on the edge of faith. Somehow I've managed to keep believing. It's been no picnic, no ride on the merry-go-round, rather it's been like climbing an enormous mountain with all the wrong gear. Once or twice I've reached the top of that mountain only to realize that climbing back down was a much harder task. I suppose where I'm going with all this is that I often forget to look close enough while I'm in those moments that test my faith - and see God in the details. It's usually only after the moment's passed that I give God credit for helping me survive.<br /><br />It's hard to imagine that God was there, somewhere in the details, of that horrible tragedy at Virginia Tech. It's hard to imagine that God was there, somewhere in the details, as that Blue Angel pilot plunged to his death as his parents looked on from the crowd of spectators. But I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">going</span> to try, to figure it out, to see Him, to believe He was there. Maybe He was the last thought of a loved one that passed through the mind of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">victim</span>. Maybe he was the light that someone saw as they left this world. Maybe he was holding the hand of that pilot so he wouldn't be scared of what was coming. Maybe he was the distraction that made his mother look away as his plane fell from the sky. He was there, in the details. Details matter more than anything. Thank you <a href="http://soberrant.blogspot.com/">Trudging</a> for reminding me to pay attention to detail.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-61573296921059143472007-04-19T21:50:00.000-05:002007-04-19T22:08:07.687-05:00tragedyIt's been a busy week and it sure started off the wrong way. You know when I first heard about the Virginia Tech shooting I sort of...didn't pay attention. I know that sounds horrible but sometimes I just get so caught up in my own stuff like work, kids, husband, that I forget I am not an enigma. But now as I sit here in the dimly lit space I call my living room, my husband is away on a business trip, my babies are fast asleep, and it's just me and my cats Leo and Bobo trying to soak up all the 'quietness'. So now, I spend moments thinking about what happened in Virginia. I think about the husbands, wives, lovers, brothers, sisters, friends - people that no longer exist and the ones that are left behind. Sometimes they say tragedy unites but if that's true why are so many people left torn apart? I can understand how life can make someone feel 'ganged up on', how it can make you feel bloodied and bruised, but I cannot understand how you could be so angry, so hopeless, so lost in despair, that you would drag innocent people right out of this world with you. I suppose part of me doesn't want to understand because if I did, if I could, then I may have to accept that some people really are evil.<br /><br />So I've said a prayer, for them, for me, for my kids, for my friends, for the people I know, for the ones I don't, for people everywhere - that they may stay unburied, unbruised, unbloodied. Sometimes it's so hard to have hope but somehow we must believe that there is more goodness than evil, more peace than war, more time - to make us all have faith again.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-5879214180736859602007-04-16T08:28:00.000-05:002007-04-16T08:46:04.230-05:00commonality<div>People are different. On the outside we all have things that make us unique, dark eyes, small hands, crooked smile. On the inside do we look alike? I believe that although we each have our own indescribable characteristics that each of us is like a river flowing into a commonality that unites us. We stand on the beach, eyes staring out at an ocean filled with so much complexity yet somehow its' simplicity is what keeps us in amazement. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Saturday I watched my daughter float across the floor, hands held in a circle above her head as if it were her very own halo. Her first ballet class, her first taste at what it was really like to be a ballerina. My first reminder that as complex as life may seem, it's made up of simple pleasures. It's simple really, my daughter is my happiness.</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054021764150385058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/RiN-BGNG2aI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/VnVy9Zd6vAY/s400/Photo-0136.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-31391688338725851872007-04-11T21:10:00.000-05:002007-04-11T21:30:44.734-05:00time stands stillI can hardly believe it's been over a week since I posted. Time flies doesn't it, well actually for some - it -stands - still.<br /><br />Over Easter I went back home to see my mom and my step dad. Some of you may remember that he's now in a nursing home and he has Alzheimer's. It's been awhile since he could leave because his condition is getting so much worse so quickly so I took my kids to see him. As I walked through the front door the smell of urine and 'despair' was just about enough to choke me. It amazed me how my 3 year old never turned up her nose, never noticed that something smelled awful, instead she just smiled and ran to Papa to give him a hug. She didn't seem to notice that Papa now lives somewhere else with other people or that he can't talk as much as he used to. He can hug her and that's about all that matters in her world. God what I wouldn't give to be able to make things so simple in my own life. So we're sitting there pretending that things are not as grim as they seem and I begin looking around at the other 'lost souls' who seemed frozen in time. Some have visitors, some don't. Some smile because that's all they remember how to do, some cry - because that's the only thing left they can do. Each and every one of those 'people' appear to be waiting for something. I hesitate to say it's death they wait for but if I'm honest, it is all that's left for most. My step father is only a shell of the man I used to know. Somewhere deep inside there are remnants of him, but as hard as I try I cannot see them anymore. My daughter sees them but I'm starting to believe it's almost like believing in Santa Claus, the older you get, the less real he becomes. I wonder if some day only the 'virgin eyes' of a child will be able to find me in the shell that becomes my home. I hope not. <br /><br />Before we left I hugged my step dad as tight as I could hoping that somehow he'd feel my touch down to the parts that still remember how wonderful it feels to be loved. I think the saddest part this disease is knowing he will die without the memory of a life lived, a life loved, a life full of so much more than he has right now.<br /><br />I keep picturing my sweet Alice kissing her papa's cheek just before we walked away and I'm praying that for him, time is frozen in that moment.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15042610.post-33102229677009414782007-03-30T10:13:00.000-05:002007-03-30T10:15:45.059-05:00Happy Friday<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/Rg0plzHzskI/AAAAAAAAAQw/D142jzwSaB0/s1600-h/100_0288.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047736486707049026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/Rg0plzHzskI/AAAAAAAAAQw/D142jzwSaB0/s400/100_0288.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kaUhf43ehVA/Rg0pNjHzsjI/AAAAAAAAAQo/wU9pyKYHVDo/s1600-h/100_0288.jpg"></a></div><br />I was going to write about something serious, something not pleasant but worth thinking about. I changed my mind after looking at these new photos of my kids. You know what? It's Friday and I don't want to think about anything other than how damn lucky I am. So instead I am going to share a new pic of my kids. I have to laugh <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">every time</span> I look at this because it's truly an exact expression of my daughter's personality. It seems she's a lot like me, always looking sideways at people wondering what they are really thinking. My son is a lot like his dad....he just sits back and takes it all in and then gives me one of those "Are you kidding," looks when I've gone overboard. Ah...children really are the most wonderful gift in the whole wide world.<br /><br />Have a wonderful weekend.<br /><div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Get Some Words Site Feed</div>Networkchichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09158414702993122385noreply@blogger.com7