Ardent

 having, expressive of, or characterizedby intense feeling; passionate; fervent:

an ardent vow; ardent love.

Having recently been in a bad automobile accident I've had a lot of time to think... Maybe too much time to think (for those of you who know me... Stop nodding) 

Due to my current limitations I've been unable to do many of the things if not most of the things I did before on a daily basis. Work (a few different jobs), cook, clean, care for my children... I'm not even supposed to drive.  To say that I need to rely on others to help is an understatement... And one that I've always had trouble with. (Stop nodding!) 

So... Instead... I've spent a fair amount of time zoning out in front of my television attempting to watch movies that I usually end up falling asleep to. The main theme in most of the chick flicks (they're the easiest to zone out to) is finding the "perfect guy"... Or manipulating a man into being that "perfect guy." 

Meghan Trainor's most recent hit "Dear Future Husband" in a satirical way lists out demands if you will that our culture has adapted as acceptable standards for this "perfect guy" that we are all looking for. Things like:

"Take me on a date

I deserve it, babe

And don't forget the flowers every anniversary

'Cause if you'll treat me right

I'll be the perfect wife

Buying groceries

Buy-buying what you need"

A laundry list of expectations and promises... Which got me thinking. What would I say to my future husband (if there is one out there) and here's what I came up with:

For you,

I wish that I could give you the unscarred, less jaded version of me... Unfortunately, I can't. I can't say that you'll be my first love.... But you will be my last. 

I can't promise you a fairy tale or a whirlwind romance. But I can promise you faithfulness, unwavering loyalty and honesty.  To accept and respect you for all of who you are and not to hold back all of who I am.

I will always be here to support and encourage you, I will always have your back (even when I disagree... Which is bound to happen (stop nodding!)) to encourage you in your dreams, to push you forward or catch you when you fall. 

 

I promise to touch you every day, and make sure that you don't go to bed without knowing how much I love you.  To love, nurture and desire you with all that I have. 

To hear who you are, to see who you are, to share my heart with you and treasure yours.

To pray with you, to seek His direction with you. To adventure with you, seek new horizons and experience new things. 

To love you... Most ardently (thanks Mr. Darcy) and to be worthy of that love in return.  These things. I promise to you. 

Always yours. 

Words

I grew up in a family where words were very important.  Whether they were encouraging words, stern words, or just being able to use our voices, we were taught at an early age to speak for ourselves.  We always ordered our own food when we went to dinner, we were encouraged to share our feelings and it should come as no surprise that word games in our house were big.

My brother and I learned at an early age that if we really wanted something.. .I mean  REALLY wanted something… if we wrote a letter we were more likely to get what we wanted.  We would put our heads together and compose ridiculously flattering letters to our parents with phrases like “Oh Emperor of the seas.... Empress of the lands…” with as many descriptive words as our vocabularies would allow.  (In fact I’m pretty sure my dad has a few of these letters saved…) but my parents always knew when they got a letter that we were asking for something… sometimes small… but usually something we weren’t normally allowed to do.  In fact… I can remember as an adult wanting to borrow a car from my parents for a trip and calling my brother to have him help me write a letter… (yes they let me borrow the car). 

Phrases like “your vocabulary is too categorical for my diminutive intellect to comprehend” became jokes in my family. My brother and I would have contests to see who knew the longest word… he still maintains that “antidisestablishmentarianism” was the biggest word (right Dan?).  However, also as I grew up… when we were punished, it was often by writing out Proverbs like “reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing”… yea I may have written that one a lot.

As I’ve become and adult, I’ve tried to instill those same values into my children. If you’ve ever been out to eat with us, they order for themselves and speak clearly so that they are understood.  In my home, they speak for themselves and are encouraged to share how they’re feeling even if they think I won’t like what they have to say.  To me… words are very important.

There’s a line from my favorite movie that says:

 “Do you ever feel you've become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's box of all the secret, hateful parts - your arrogance, your spite, your condescension - has sprung open? Someone upsets you and instead of smiling and moving on, you zing them. "Hello, it's Mr Nasty." …. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you? And then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time, and we'd both be happy. But then, on the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.” (Joe Fox, You’ve Got Mail)

Something I’ve striven for as an adult is to have less zingers. To think before I respond… to be quick to listen and slow to speak.   I’m someone who has wounded many with my words in my life… and have been wounded by other’s words as well.  To this day I hear over and over in my head “you will never be a good mother, you’re not wired for it…” … I fight those words daily.

In my job, I work hard to listen first and speak second… or for that matter sometimes not speak at all. In my friendships is where this is the hardest.  Often times when in conflict I’m quick to speak and slow to think. (but, really aren’t we all) Often, I’ve learned to put things in letters, because then I can read, and edit, and read and edit and repeat… so that I make sure I’m not saying things that I will regret in the heat of the moment.  I don’t want to regret my words, because I can’t take them back.

If you know me now and knew me several years ago, you’ll know that this is something I’ve worked a lot on.  Hopefully, you’ve noticed a change…

 So where do you fall on the line? Are you someone who doesn’t use their voice at all? Are you someone who zings people? Have you mastered this and sit in between? (if so… let’s have coffee and teach me your ways)…

Words are important to me… Words have hurt me more than almost anything else in my life.  I know I’ve hurt people with words… Do you pay attention to your words? Do you hurt people with your words?

Words… such a small thing that can be so big.

Tribute

I can remember it like it was yesterday... my mom came home from 4-H with my sister and said... "I've arranged for you to get together with Paula's daughter" .... I can remember thinking... are you kidding me! I don't need my mother arranging play dates for me.. I'm practically an adult (okay well I was a sophomore)... but nonetheless I agreed to go. We agreed to go to Amical for dessert (this became our favorite dessert spot and I still go there in honor of her now) and Horizon Books for coffee... When I got there to pick her up I couldn't believe that my mom thought I could actually have something in common with this girl.  I was a musical nerd, girly, and of course boy crazy... she was into horses, painting, well and boys... the only redeeming quality was that we both wore flip flops.  Little did I know that she would end up being my best friend for several years.

Our friendship blossomed that summer and we were soon inseparable.... If we weren't in school or working we could be found 'cruisin' the strip (yes that's just driving up and down front street blaring our music so loud all we did was laugh)... I can still remember the first time we pulled over to talk to boys... You would have thought she was going to die... she was SO RED! AND we were driving my mom's car (yea sorry mom) and it had a car seat in the backseat (real cool!) and when they asked us if we had kids we laughed so long and so hard that we had to pull away and then pull over to get it back together.  We had our own bench... one that we claimed downtown as ours... (yes another way to talk to boys.. we were young!) and sometimes when I miss her so much that it hurts I go and sit on our bench.

She lived for twilight shows and of course the fair... we even ran for fair queen together... her talent was making a french silk pie (to this day still my favorite) for the judges... barn chores, picking out the cute wanna be cow boys... and of course the 4-H dance that she always dragged me to... oh did she love to dance... Remember Brianne.... "I'm a choreographer"... best pick-up line at a dance club (gentlemen take note... DO NOT USE THAT LINE .... IT DOESN'T WORK)

We used to go to get ice cream and she would order a side of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and a side of Whipped Cream... and if she was feeling really adventurous she would add Cookie Dough... We laughed every time... oh and she loved strawberries... and Strawberry Shortcake... ya know the little doll that has strawberry everything.

I remember her having to have her jaw wired shut for what seemed like FOREVER (I'm sure it felt even longer to her) and we used to sit while she was half with it watching every chick flick we could find and reading trashy girly magazines...

We loved road trips... we usually would drag Grace along and stop and take random pictures along the way, whether it was going downstate to Grandma's or just on some wild adventure that day. She hated the way I drove. Might be because I almost killed us the first time we ever hung out... but in my defense.. it was snowy, and icy.. and their driveway sometimes was a nightmare.

We had more inside jokes than you could even imagine.... "no sour cream or tomatoes" still makes me laugh to this day.  Going through the drive through of Wendy's at night and talking to the automated machine for quite sometime before we realized they were actually closed. She washed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.  She hated when I used to watch her put on mascara, especially when she used the eye lash curler..

I took her to her first party... I told her... "when you walk through the door they'll hand you a beer... just conveniently put it down somewhere and they'll never notice".. I don't think she believed me... Sure enough... that's exactly what happened...

Oh did we love to laugh... but we also went through some very hard times together.Her parents divorce, my family chaos, our first boyfriends and break ups, the birth of my first child (she even came and stayed with me in the hospital)... her moving all over the globe pursuing her love for missions...

She had a gentle spirit, but a fiery attitude, she loved love, oh she laughed, and her smile, and crazy curly hair...  We used to spend hours just dreaming about our weddings, what our lives would be like as we got older...

She was one of my very best friends... and on days like today.. my heart aches missing her so badly..I can't sit and sort out my girl stuff with her, talk about cute boys, laugh about anything and everything. She'll never get to see my boys grow up, have a family of her own. All of those dreams of hers are gone. I still can't believe she's gone.

I thank God every day for having had her in my life... even if it was for way too short of a time.

One of the only songs she would sing at karaoke was from Coyote Ugly... and the words bring me to tears every time I hear them... I can hear her singing...

"And I don't like to turn the radio on 

Just to find I missed my favorite song 

And I don't like to be the last with the news 

But I do love you " 

You are forever in my heart my dear sweet friend.  I miss you every day... 

"I don't like to be alone in the night
And I don't like to hear I'm wrong when I'm right 
And I don't like to have the rain on my shoes 
But I do love you 
But I do love you" 

Reconstruction

I’m a very driven person… driven in my job, my parenting, my personal life, my musical life…. To me, success, or the feeling of “having arrived” is often a figment of my imagination because of that constant desire to grow.... or personal discontentment if I'm really being honest.

 Throughout my own self-reflection this week, I've found myself thinking a lot about what has been damaged in my life; not only in relational areas but personally both physically and spiritually.  Let me tell you... to say those thoughts were overwhelming would be an understatement. 

Damage: injury or harm that reduces value or usefulness 

As is natural for almost any human being, all of those negative experiences come to the surface rather quickly (gosh what's with that... can we re-wire our brains so that we see positives first... wouldn't that be nice) and as I began to reflect on the "negatives" from my life... gee it's amazing I'm still standing... or alive for that matter.  

My life has been an interesting road with some very dark, low valleys and some beautiful high peaks of amazingness (apparently my spell-check does not like the word amazingness).  There is no doubt in my mind that my journey in life has very much shaped me into the woman that I am today, and for that I am very grateful... but it has not been easy... AT ALL!

As I spent some time looking at that it got me thinking about Reconstruction.

Reconstruction: a thing that has been rebuilt after being damaged or destroyed.

I don't know if you've ever had significant areas of reconstruction in your life... but let me just tell you... they are hard!  AND... often times, when you think that the reconstruction has been completed, something happens that reminds you that you aren't nearly as close as you thought you were to being whole.

Being whole... what does that really mean? what does it look like? Is it really possible to be whole when you've been damaged? 

Wholeness: uninjured or unharmed; sound

Perhaps... we have it wrong... rather than striving for wholeness... are we really instead searching for significance? 

Significance: the quality of being significant or having a meaning

For most of us... we look to other people or things to find that meaning... wholeness... purpose... whatever word it is that you choose to identify with.  

I've spent a lot of my life finding my significance in helping other people.  Now don't get me wrong... while pride is an area I will always struggle with... that statement is not meant to be prideful.  Let me explain...

I've always been the person that people relied on... as far back as I can remember my friends have come to me when they're struggling or need a clear head or help sorting something out.  I'm good at that... I love people, and find great excitement in seeing people claim who they are as individuals.  It's one of the many reasons I love my job.  

So as I started thinking about the things I rely on for significance, it became very clear that I default to the wrong types of things when I’m hurting.  They say that you can only take a person as far in their story as you’re willing to go in your own… How far am I willing to go in my own personal growth?

This week I’ve had to make some changes, especially in relationships that have been very painful... in fact they’ve been downright gut wrenching. I hope that in making this change, I’ll be able to find that growth that I’m looking for… that I’ll be able to continue on my road towards “wholeness” not only stronger but as a better woman than I was before.  That the beauty and value that I hope others see in me really is an honest reflection of who I am rather than a facade.  That you can see me for me… and that my peace in who I am as an individual, the significance that I’ve found… IS what you see… rather than my pain…

Is it safe to say that I’m still under “reconstruction?”…. Absolutely… I may always be… but really… aren’t we all…

The key is to be okay with that… to allow who we are at the core to shine through regardless of whatever growth we are striving toward…

Because really… shouldn’t we always be striving for growth.  I know I am… and sometimes that growth is hard… and sometimes it’s easier… this week.. it’s hard.

How’s your journey in growth going? Have you resigned yourself to where you are in life? Is that really where you want to be?... 

Would you like to join me on my journey? I'd love to have traveling companions. 

Decisions

Being a mother is a fine balancing act between making wise decisions for your children and trying to keep your own sanity! (in all of my clumsiness as a human being (insert Newton jokes here)  tightrope walking was never in the cards for me)..

Often times as I make decisions for my children I weigh the following things in my mind…

1.       Will they be safe?

2.       Will they be cared for?

3.       Will they be loved?

4.       Will they learn something?

Then… if I can’t answer any of those questions… this set of questions takes over:

1.       Will they have fun?

2.       Will I end up arrested for some form of child abuse or neglect? (apparently allowing your child to scream on the back porch is frowned upon… or so I’ve heard….)

3.       Will severe to permanent bodily harm be avoided?

If all of those are a go… refer to the first set of questions…

I’m not terribly warm and cuddly, my Type A personality often takes over as default when faced with tough decisions and it’s quite difficult to determine at times what is the best path to take because normally my gut reaction is not the kindest or most “motherly.”

So when Nicholas’ biological father decided to meet Nicholas for the first time last November… there was a lot of internal wrestling. 

Would Nicholas be safe emotionally? How would I explain to him the complicated web that weaved the story of his life?  Could he even begin to understand?  Would he be hurt or angry with me? Was it all my fault? (no, of course not… but I am a woman and naturally it’s in my DNA to assume it’s my fault).

However, Nicholas has been blessed with an unbelievably laid back, even-tempered and beyond gracious personality that has weathered well my many missteps in life and not only survived, but thrived. 

So as he prepared to meet Zach for the first time, we both were thrilled, and nervous (I’m pretty sure the pit that consumed my stomach was so deep that the Sahara Desert would have been lost in it).

It went remarkably well… they had a wonderful time… and Nicholas was gracious enough in not asking too many questions therefore allowing for my floundering brain to keep up with everything going on. Zach came back to visit this week and Nicholas was over the moon excited and the pit in my stomach didn’t seem to appear this time…. Well instead it’s just a small puddle…

While I’m sure there is a long relational road to be built, it’s nice to see that it’s working at a pace that we all seem to be able to handle.

But it got me thinking…. Is there a “right way” to make decisions…

HOW CAN I PUT MY FEET ON SOLID GROUND?!?

I’m someone who wants to be as informed about all the options and possibilities or outcomes as I can be.  While I’m good at making fast and hard decisions during a crisis it’s not the method I prefer.    This is something that’s different about me… I used to be a knee jerk decision maker… 

HOWEVER!! A couple other things I’ve learned when it comes to decision making.…

1   1.     I have to do what works best for me… not the THOUSANDS who feel the need to offer an opinion

     2.  What I decide works for me is ENOUGH

3   3 .I can say no… and surprisingly enough it feels good to say no 

        4. The only bad decision is the one that I make that goes against what works for me

How do you make decisions?  Do you need the input of a lot of people, do you ask no one, what tightrope act are you walking today?  

If you aren’t sure… or feel caught in the balancing act of life.  Take your feet off the rope… the ground is right there… and it’s a much happier place to be.

Contemplation

"You walked with me, footprints in the sand

And helped me understand where I'm going

You walked with me when I was all alone

With so much unknown along the way

Then I heard you say

I promise you, I'm always there

When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair

I'll carry you when you need a friend

You'll find my footprints in the sand"

As I sit on the eve of what would have been my fourth anniversary I find myself in an emotional conflict.  While I am saddened that what was once something beautiful and amazing has ended; I'm also filled with relief, gratefulness, freedom and gratitude.  

You may be reading this for the first time and going "what the heck.... I had no idea she was divorced..." or if you're really out of touch it might be "what the heck she got married?!"  So... depending where you fall on the spectrum just try to stay with me... 

I've always been a very private person.. I don't like my life aired out for people to see... or read... However... in this season of change and growth personally I'm trying something new.  Thanks for joining in this journey with me.

I wish that I could tell you that my marriage ending was all his fault... but that would be unkind and not accurate.  We struggled... We struggled together and we struggled separately. At one point I was pretty convinced that it was all his fault.  He was the one with all of the problems...

Now as I look back and seek to move forward my view has changed... A LOT! So... on this would be anniversary I've decided to write a letter...  to anyone who maybe has been where I've been or might be headed there...

To the girl who is waiting to get married.... to the girl who sits waiting for her groom... 

Take heart, he will come... and he's worth the wait.  Don't hurry, don't rush.  Let him be the man... let him bring you flowers and open the door for you.  Being independent doesn't mean not allowing him to cherish you.  The men that we dream about in movies... they aren't real! They are women in a man's body.... Real men value honesty, integrity, hard work and chivalry.  Chivalry is not dead! but you have to be open to it.  No man that wants to rush to the alter (like after a few months... or weeks.. or even days) is really the right man for you. 

Be modest, treat yourself with great care and they will treat you that way. 

The one who will love you forever is willing to wait and take the time to study you, to know you for you, to accept you and all of your flaws and still love you endlessly. 

Wait for that man.  The one who delights in seeing you succeed and challenges you to be better.

To the woman who is married and hurting... to the woman who is divorced...

I'm so very sorry.  Know that my heart aches with you.  

It's ok! You aren't crazy! You get to choose how to move forward...

Maybe you... like me didn't wait for the right man.. you were caught up in a whirlwind romance...  or maybe it just didn't work out...or worried that no one would ever come along... or that you would never be good enough... 

YOU ARE!!!! You are beautiful... you are worth so much more... Whether you have the ability to save your marriage or it's already gone, you have the ability to save you! To find who you are and where you're headed.  To be the best woman that you can be! 

Find her! Find that woman.. and if you don't know how, call someone to help you.  

You may be lost now but you can be found. You are not alone! 

To the woman who married the love of their life, 

TEACH! Teach your sons to grow up to be men of good character, teach your daughters that their value is not tied to what man pays attention to them.  

Teach women that you know how to be loving and devoted wives, teach single women how to wait for the right man. 

Love your husband, cherish him, support him and challenge him to be the best man he can be. Let him love you, and challenge you... and don't punish him for your own insecurities. 

Learn from those who have set the path before you... you have so much to offer as a woman... you are beautiful, and valuable.

To Men...

If you strive to master the woman you love, know her beyond how she can even know herself, always study her and devote yourself only to her she will never leave you.  

I'm sorry that the world has provided so many distractions and has not allowed women to step into who they were created to be.  I'm sorry that with the click of a button you can briefly satisfy yourself rather than taking the time to woo and marry the woman who could be by your side forever.  I'm sorry that Hollywood has emasculated you to the point of making the "standards" impossible to live up to.  

Teach our young men to strive for these things:  Be strong, be chivalrous, be honest, be loyal, be loving and have integrity and you will be one worthy of honor and respect.

... from one who has been changed by love, loss, heartache and triumph... and the desire to be not only studied, but worthy of honor and respect.

Expectation

"My white knight, not a Lancelot, nor an angel with wings

Just someone to love me, who is not ashamed of a few nice things. 

My white knight who knew what my heart would say if it only knew how."

-The Music Man

When I was a little girl one of my favorite things to play was "Bride."  I would prance around the house in dress up clothes, dancing and singing as if it was my wedding day. I had my wedding planned out down to the perfect song and type of cake and I just knew that it was going to be that way.  I was sure that that was my destiny.  I was going to get married, have children, cook, clean and do all of the things that my mom did. I never had any aspiration of being anything "Great." I'm sure most girls at some point in their childhood dream of their wedding day.  The dream of their white knight that comes to sweep them off into the sunset and that they'll live happily ever after (Well done Hollywood for filling our heads with the notion that nothing is impossible if we just believe).

I thought that I knew what marriage was... the picture that I had created in my head was one of romance, laughter, fun, excitement and adventure.  Even as an adult as I faced the cruel reality of natural consequences and growth, there was part of me that clung to the idea that when my knight came along all would be right with the world.  Even though I wasn't convinced that there would be a knight for me (I'm a difficult person, ambitious, a pot-stirrer and not often content to stay in one place long) I had a fairy tale idea of what it would be like.  While often that hope was smashed with worldly reality, the little girl in me held on strong.

When I met Jeff, I wasn't instantly swept off my feet... but he was funny, and smart... and bless his heart he took me on our second date to see Emma at the State Theater (which is one of my favorite movies) AND he laughed in all of the right places... He got it.  He was funny, he had plans, things he wanted to do and places he wanted to go.  He shared my foodie love and enjoyment of really ridiculous banter.  Maybe my idea of what my knight would be like had finally found me. I've never considered myself an insecure person... but my track record in relationships wasn't great so I grabbed on, held on for dear life and pushed forward at mach speed. (Similar to a dog sticking it's head out of the window in a moving car... hold on baby here we go).  We got engaged quickly (another something I pushed for... so much so that I didn't get to enjoy the anticipation of allowing him to plan and execute in his own way... I made it happen my way because I didn't want to wait in case it might not be real) and the little girl inside of me came to the forefront as planning began. As our wedding drew closer I conveniently avoided the little things that started to surface as possible warnings that this might not be the right path because I was convinced that this was my fairy tale and that this would probably be the only chance I'd get.

The day finally came and everything went exactly how I imagined it would.  It was beautiful... and I thought that I had finally arrived.

I wish I could tell you that that very perfect day continued into a long successful, happy, healthy and "fairy-talesque" marriage...But it didn't.  I became acutely aware that my fascination with marriage and my expectations of what marriage would be like were so very wrong.  It wasn't anything like it was in the movies that I poured my heart into as a young girl.

Marriage was hard... Trusting someone completely to make decisions that affected my well-being, taking on their pain while shouldering my own, accepting their flaws while facing my own was something I was never prepared for.

There were many days where I wasn't sure if maybe something in me was broken, or wrong... how could something I had dreamed about for so long be so wrong.. be so painful... be something that I grew to hate. The ugliness set in along with anger and bitterness.  Why was this happening to me... where did I fail so badly that this is what I deserved?
I'm aware that my experience in marriage was extreme... that as I faced separation and finally divorce, the extenuating circumstances go far beyond what most people encounter in marriage. I often pondered whether if I had different expectations... would my marriage have been different? Probably... would it still have ended? Probably, that was something that was beyond me.  But that fairy tale idea that I had of what it SHOULD be is now gone.

As I look to move forward in my life as what would be my fourth anniversary draws near, I have a new outlook on love but more so... on life.  While I'm not sure if marriage will be in the cards for me again, I am sure of who I am, of where I'm going and that there is something more than "great" in-store for me. My purpose, my identity, is no longer tied up in that fairy tale of who a woman should be, nor is it caught in the Hollywood version of what an ideal woman is.

I am unique.. I am beautiful... I have a lot to offer... and maybe someday... just maybe...

"My white knight, not a Lancelot, nor an angel with wings

Just someone to love me, who is not ashamed of a few nice things. 

My white knight who knew what my heart would say if it only knew how." 

Intention

So originally I wasn't going to blog about Mother's Day because everyone who blogs does... And then I overheard a comment this evening that changed my mind.

I work for an organization that works with single moms and so we make our event in May focused on celebrating them and showering them with extravagant love... Tonight I overheard a mom say... 

"I hate Mother's Day... What I wouldn't give for it to be just another day"

As my heart saddened at the words she spoke I realized that she had just verbalized my very thoughts.

Mother's Day signifies all of my short comings as a mom. On a day where we as mothers are supposed to feel loved and celebrated... I am made acutely aware that I'm alone... That my life hasn't turned in any way as I planned and that on top of that... My choices now affect two beautiful boys... To say that grief is overwhelming would be a gross understatement. 

Even now as I sit writing this I would much rather be in the corner... Rocking...  With chocolate... And maybe wine... Acutely aware that tomorrow I will slap on a smile and graciously accept all of the "Happy Mother's Day" comments and pretend to go unphased... 

But in the dark parts of my soul I will be screaming inside.."It's just not the same... You can't understand... Unless you feel like me" ... Which tonight I was reminded... Others do..

So when you encounter moms tomorrow.... Stay-at-home, working, married, single and any other type you can think of. Rather than wishing her a generic "Happy Mother's Day"... Let me challenge you to encourage her intentionally... Pick something you've seen her shine in and let her know how much you appreciate that instead. Because your words are important... Speak them with purpose rather than duty. 

Extinct

I want to preface this blog by saying that it is not warm and fuzzy, it’s not funny… but it’s me… and since this blog is about me… it’s what you’re getting this time…

Recently a video circulated Facebook in which a young man tells the story of encountering his rapist as “someone you might know” on Facebook.  He talks about the feeling of panic and trauma as he clicks on the profile where he instantly has access to personal details he didn't have before.  The pain that occurs as he sees that his life has continued on… that he is well-liked, and beyond that… they have friends in common. 

He then talks about the pain and judgement he received by friends, family, and even law enforcement when he revealed what had happened to him.  That ever so often question asked, “Why didn't you fight back?”  He concludes by saying that this is him fighting back.

I watched this video through tears as I recalled encountering my rapist on Facebook for the first time… and then seeing that several people who not only did I know, but knew well, were “friends” with him.  Once I got over the shock I pep talked myself back to … this doesn't define me…  I am not less of a person because of what happened… which worked fine….

Until last Sunday…

The boys desperately wanted to go to the park and wanted me to take them to one dad had taken them to.  So as Nicholas started to give me directions as we headed on our way, a sinking feeling took over.  Of course they wanted to go to THAT park… THAT park that I have so successfully avoided because THAT HOUSE sits directly across the street. 

I knew I was going to have to make a decision very quickly… come up with some quick excuse why we couldn't go there… or… face the fear, trauma, and memory which to that day I hadn't been able to do.

As we pulled into the park I started to sweat, shake, feel nauseous and I’m sure looked like I was going to be sick because Nicholas said to me “mom are you ok?”  I nodded and quickly corralled the kids out of the car and toward the playground.  I put in my headphones hoping that the distraction of music would help me in conquering what was starting to feel like a mountain I wasn't prepared to climb. 

Taking deep breaths I found a spot under a tree facing THAT HOUSE and closed my eyes as an eerie version of Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty” (which happens to be one of my favorites) filled my ears.

I wish I could tell you that I was instantly “healed” or that all of my anxiety went away and I’m a changed woman.

  

I can’t. 

But what I can tell you is… something about that song, at that place, on that day, at that time… brought me peace.  It wasn't surreal, it wasn't profound… but it was peace.  

Will I still probably avoid that park… yes... (thankfully they both decided there were other more fun parks to play at…. With very “little prompting” from me J)

And when we got in the car… THAT HOUSE just looked sad, and found a place in my memory that no longer claims something over me outwardly. 

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73w3wWYjcDk)

Welcome to my brain... and other related things.

Have you ever wished that you knew what someone was thinking... that if you could see into their brain you would understand them better...

If you ever tried to see into my brain, madness might occur... If you've ever observed me chuckling to myself, I'm not crazy I promise!  There is a constant commentary going on in my brain that if  you could be privy to would do one of two things.

1. Suck you in as it does me

2. Make you run for the hills... I'm not a horrible person I promise!

So in attempts to bring some of that disaster that is awkwardness, one-liners and corny jokes to the masses we now have.... a blog. 

A perfect example... this morning BEFORE our morning routine the following occurred:

 (in brain commentary will be colored)

"mom... mom! MOM! MOMMMMM!!!!"  This is Alexander (age 3) yelling from him bed...as if I didn't hear him the first time.  I'm so grateful that my children stay in bed and that I don't have to deal with the constant up and down at bedtime... until 7am when rather than getting out of bed and coming to me... he waits for me to come to him. Maybe if I lie here long enough he will be quiet and forget he was yelling for me

"MOMMMMMMM I'm WET! You need to change me"  The maid isn't on duty yet!

.... grumbling because I have 27 more minutes until my alarm would go off, I fumble blindly for my glasses and get out of bed. 

 "Ouch!" who left that laundry basket there... pretty sure it wasn't me... can't blame Jeff he's not here anymore... must have been me... %&$@!

 ... and as I stumble over what appear to be THREE more laundry baskets to get to the hallway (Clearly I should have put the baskets together before I went to bed) and into Alexander's room there he is... giggling... smiling... man it's a good thing he's cute 

"Mom! I'm wet... Murphy (the stuffed dog) is wet too" and sure enough the odor of urine assaults my nose.

COME ON KID ISN'T IT TIME TO POTTY TRAIN YET!

As I lifted him out of bed and take him to get changed he stops... and so very sweetly says... 

"Mom, you're beautiful in the morning" Mr. Smooth-talker himself ladies and gentlemen...man am I in trouble 

How can you be annoyed at that.... you just can't... 

.... all before my morning coffee... remember you gave up coffee... idiot!