I Suck At Faith

I was raised in a Presbyterian church as a normal, average, "PK" or "Preacher's Kid." Sunday School, Potlucks, BBQ, Sermons, Funerals, Weddings, Baptisms, the whole nine yards of protestant life. I was the kid who played in church and loved to be there. I wanted to take all my friends because church was the best.

In 3rd grade they put me in Catholic School because all my older cousins and my mom had gone to the same Catholic Schools. Religion was my best subject but I learned fast and the hard way that not all religion was the same. I got bullied a lot for not being Catholic. It's not something you can hide because if you don't go through 1st communion you can't have any communion at all in the Catholic church. So while everyone else went up to the front, I stayed seated, not able to participate. 

I can remember two times, both of which I've written about before, where all of my concepts of faith were completely shattered, and both happened before I was 16. To this day, neither of those situations was fully remedied. It wasn't until I was 17, had moved from PA to Florida, then from Florida to Oregon, where I finally just retired from the whole church thing. Granted, my mom and I never even looked at a church when I spent my junior year in Florida; the closest thing to a religious ritual for us was trips to the malls.

My dad was still preaching when I moved to Oregon, but his church was a good 45 minutes away. In the progressive, hippie and free thinking city of Eugene, it was easier to find Pot-dealers than church-goers, and no one who went to church spoke about it. I never had a single person invite me to a church in my 8 years in Oregon and it wasn't because I was a known preacher's kid. It just wasn't a part of my college life.

I don't know how to better describe my current situation as just the fact that I suck at faith. I know a few people who have this unyielding and compelling faith whom I admire so very much, but after a quick conversation with a mom friend who has shared some trauma with me, we kind of acknowledged that while we admire those with it, it's not so easy for everyone.

I read the bible a lot in my youth. I had many discussions with my dad and loved to study all forms of religion so I understand it all, it's just hard for me to jump in head first. For me it comes down to owning my trauma. Until recently, and I mean within the last 6 months recently, I didn't know that the many things I'd experienced in my life were allowed to be called "trauma." I thought they were just bad things that I had to learn from, so dealing with that is a lot as it is.

I've heard a lot about the millennial generation professing the one true truth as "my truth," which I think has some merit in that we are in a time of continued identity evolution. There is a lot more to consider now, than ever before. But also, so much involved with religion has become unflattering and volatile. It's a double edged sword.

I have a "home church," a church I love and identify with for the first time since I was 13. However, this came after visiting two churches that just did nothing for me at all and were part of ritual or expectation rather than "filling my cup." Where I currently attend has brought me amazing friendships and great opportunities to serve the community, which are incredibly important, but I still maintain, in general, I suck at faith.

I think when you spend your life in close proximity to addiction, alcoholism and chaos, it's more difficult to find your way, as rather you are always focused on what's in your way. I wish I had the kind of support to be free in affirming faithful ideas and constructs but I just don't, and that's just par for the course right now.

Talking to anyone about close ties and experiences with family members and loved ones in the throws substance abuse is very difficult, let alone dealing with it privately. Unfortunately, like it or not, church gossip is as easy to get to as a copy of the bible when you walk into worship, so protecting any sense of privacy can feel alienating and a kind of lost cause. 

Last week during horseback riding lessons we spoke to this young girl who had been riding since she was 7. My husband mentioned church and this 14 year old girl said, "You should come to my church! We'd love to have you!" She spoke with pride about what it was like and that even if we had a church we liked, she'd like for all of us to come to hers. I just watched her talking to us about this and was in awe of her. This girl had no fear or reservations about talking about where she held her faith. She was just as happy to talk about her church as she was about her iPhone, her sprained wrist and her horses. 

I think I was like her until my first experiences with family addiction. I think I was able to stand taller before the engulfing force that my early trauma took from me. And I'm sorry to say that dealing with the effects of the substance abuse of others is still very much a part of my daily life, and what keeps me from sucking less at faith.

Without outing everything about my personal life I can report that, although I don't struggle with drug or alcohol abuse, save from being a mother and 2 glasses of wine giving me a headache if I don't have enough water, or beer giving me stomach cramps, it's something that I have never lived without. It is a constant. For many people reading you'll reach out and say this is when I need my church and to find my faith most, but for those of you who have known me the longest, you'll know that's just not an easy thing for me.

I'm not so sure faith is "easy" for anyone, but for me it's just a work in progress like everything else in my life and my best compliment to myself about it is, at least I'm honest about it. I refuse to hide the struggle anymore because it adds too much extra stress. I suck at faith but I'm willing to work on it. For those of you who have that strong and unwavering faith, you're always allowed to share with me because I am well aware that learning about it incredibly important. 

In the meantime, I am healing and working hard on finding ways back to myself. I'm taking the Sundays I need to for a day of rest and late breakfasts, and I'm done feelingly badly about it. I'm taking every lesson I can from every sermon I attend and I'm trying to try to suck much less in the hopes that one day it will truly rub off and become easier for me. Until then, I just keep learning and doing what I can to keep on keeping on; that may actually be the religion in Eugene. "Keep on keeping on." 

In Remembrance Of Luke Perry - My Twenty-Something, 90210 Late-Comer Obsession Will Live In Infamy

It's become a running joke between my dad and I that he notoriously allowed me to watch completely age inappropriate things from about the time I was 7 and on. I wasn't allowed to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was 5 because it promoted violence and fighting, but watched Pretty Woman with my parents when I was 8. Hmmm; not the best judgment.

At the hands of my entire family I was exposed to highly inappropriate movies, shows and themes, but because I was preacher's kid and completely naive, most of the innuendos went way over my head. I watch these movies now and I'm like...um wow!

Anyway, one show on my dad's radar that was kept from me was 90210. When this show hit it big, I was still a Saved By The Bell, Full House, and TGIF kinda girl and also slightly younger than the audience that got to it first. My dad never let me watch it calling it, "Soap Opera crap" and then muttering something about Tori Spelling's lack of talent. 

So, I never watched 90210 in it's prime or all it's cool, trendy glory. In fact, I didn't discover it until the summer after my 16th birthday when it was in syndication with soap operas on the likes of Fox, CBS, FX or some such. I was home alone a lot when I lived with my mom, so I started watching re-runs.

Finding them in the order of how the show progressed was tough, as it may have been still producing new seasons at this time, but I loved all the drama. And I recognized some of the actors from other things on my radar.

I didn't get into it again until I was 23. We were living with my aunt and I was finishing college. She had "the good cable," and 90210 was on 2 hours a day. I happened to be in between full time jobs and home to "study," often with the house to myself while it was on. I had just so happened to have caught it starting the cycle again. I was hooked and it became part of my daily routine. I got up early to go to spin and classes, then came home to reboot before my afternoon classes, and there it was!

Funny fact that I JUST remembered: I was actually watching 90210 when Eben called me into another room to propose to me. I was annoyed that he was bothering me because I was "watching my stories" as we used to make fun. Spoiler alert: I said yes!

Now I was still never home enough to catch the whole series so I was left with all kinds of plot holes and trying to figure out what events came when in chronology. Remember this was still WAY before Netflix, Hulu and any sort of availability to watch whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted.

Fast forward another 3 years and we are renting my favorite apartment and living large with the good cable in Florida. My work schedule allows me to 90210 binge-watch on FX before my closing shifts and I'm obsessed. The pug and I curled up and devoured every juicy moment. I was a die hard team Dylan and Brenda girl, but the Kelly stuff was compelling, I will admit.

Fast forward again to me at age 28, and having my daughter. After a rough first 6 weeks of life, which I've referenced a few times in my blogging before, I had never been so happy to be home and breastfeeding on my couch. Despite all the studies on TV making your child an idiot, I watched an insane amount of Netflix, movies, and series when I was up at night breastfeeding and throughout my days at home. Sorry not sorry, it kept me sane. And that was when it all happened.

On my maternity leave, 90210 aired for 4 hours a day; two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. The played in order and the series had just begun. I was only like 4 episodes in, and I had seen those before, so I knew. Every day Luna and I would tune into the drama. Steve, Andrea, Brandon, Kelly, Brenda, Donna, David, Valerie, Ray, Noah, the guest stars, the touching episodes, the bad corny ones, they were ALL THERE.

Because of being a stay at home breastfeeding mother I was able to watch all of 90210 and fall in love with Dylan McKay like the rest of them. Even so close to thirty I was hooked and, in my opinion, it was better late than never! So if you think about it, thanks to Luna I achieved my 16 year-old-self's goals and dreams of devouring that entire series. Go me!

So yesterday, when the news of Luke Perry's passing was posted on every social media outlet it, made me really sad. This happened just after last week they spoke about a possible re-boot of the series. Luke Perry was definitely known for his portrayal of the heart-throb, bad boy, Dylan McKay, but I also loved him as the leather clad hero in Buffy the Vampire slayer, the movie not the show, and he made an appearance in one of my favorite episodes of the highly underrated show, Raising Hope. 

He was a talented actor. And he was only 52! But what surprised me is so many of my mom friends were like, super depressed and affected by the loss. For most of them, this was their first serious celebrity crush and his passing is like the end of an era. Here we are, grown up, adulting, and some of us raising girls of our own and Luke Perry's death not only brings to light how old we are, or how short life is, but maybe also that our teenage years are just super gone now. Times have changed a lot, and always will.

It's sad to think his family lost him, but I just know there are so many women completely heartbroken that their first TV love is gone, may he rest in peace. The posters, the teen mags, the fan letters, and I think they had Barbie-like dolls and collectible things are all in remembrance of him. 

For me, he will live on forever through the likes of Hulu and I'm sure I'll bait Luna into watching it someday so she can make fun of me. But for now, and at least for me, 90210 will be that weird series that epitomized my late-bloomer status in life and allowed me to fall for that rebel without a cause like the rest of them, even in my almost-30 postpartum days. 

You'll find me binge-watching 90210, going back to West Beverly High on Hulu as my way of paying my respects. Thanks for everything Luke Perry!

First Friends Are The Best Friends

I had just messaged my friend, the one who has known me the longest, since I was just 6 years old, and asked him if I could write a blog about us, and the next day at Publix I come across this cover on Life Magazine. And let me tell you, it could have been us.

I think of this tale as beyond epic so here we go. When I was in Kindergarten I went to some private prep school and met my best friend/ "first boyfriend," also known as Bradley. He was an older one, all of 7 and had red hair just like me. He once told me that when he was in like first grade, next to my picture he wrote that he would marry me some day but then scratched it out in older years. The universe had different plans anyway.

We may have made it a year or two together as inseparable. We had beach trips, sleep overs, camp outs, and endless play dates. We did lots of hand holding and kissing on the cheek, if memory serves. We watched E.T. together and I gave him my E.T. stuffed animal as a gift to my new "boyfriend." I should have dug out pictures of us from when we were beyond adorable.

When his family moved on from having him attend that school and living in that that area, my mom didn't stay in touch. We kind of just faded with nothing but pictures and memories of our childhood adventures. I didn't know if we'd ever speak again, let alone what would happen 17 years later.

See, this was back in the day before Facebook, MySpace, and Google took over so you could find ANYONE. All you had was old mailing addresses or a phone book to track people down. I can't tell you how many times he crossed my mind but I never would have thought he'd remember me.

In about 2002ish, Bradley had tracked down my dad's phone number in Oregon but admitted he was too afraid and intimidated to call. Knowing my dad he would have been rude at first and then relieved it wasn't some 20 year old boyfriend looking for me, and instead an old friend.

In 2009, when my husband and I joined Facebook, in the MOST unlikely of ways, Bradley found me, and this happened as soon as we moved to Florida. Bradley had been searching for me under my maiden name, my dad's last name, and tracked down my niece on Facebook, because on Facebook I've always had hubby's name. My maiden name, Lodjic, was pretty darn rare. He messaged her asking if she knew of me at all and she responded saying, "That's my aunt, she just got married, here is her Facebook name."

And that was it, the boy who knew me the longest and had been looking for me, finally found me when I was just 24 years old, after not speaking since we were maybe, 7 and 8? It was completely astounding.

Bradley was kicking ass in the Airforce when we reconnected. We spoke via the magic of the internet A LOT. We did IM and Facebook, I called him as much as I could. We emailed. We stayed up hours talking about everything. He remembered my family before everything turned sour and he remembered things my trauma had blocked out. I knew him before his personal family stuff and there was a sense of home and familiarity that never left us.

My husband never seemed to be phased by the interaction but perhaps because there has always been an ocean between us. Bradley asked me all about my husband and what I was up to. He read all my poems and blogs. He told me all about his then ex-girlfriend, now wife, and how he knew she was the one. We left no stone unturned in conversation. We picked up immediately as best friends, like we'd never missed a day, let alone close to two decades. It was weird, but completely natural and normal all at the same time.

Ten years ago Bradley Facebooked his way back into my life, and I can honestly say, I couldn't have gotten through that decade without him. There is not a doubt in my mind that he found me because he was meant to be a true friend, a comfort and support that I needed. He is someone from my roots, to keep me rooted. Now, let me elaborate.

Bradley has heard me complain and cry about everything. He calls me out when I'm being unfair in my perspective with my personal relationships and totally has my back when it comes to parenthood and all the ways of me being all that is Alison. When he married his gorgeous wife, I thought he might fade away because you know, life, but we check in often and they happen have a beautiful daughter a year older than Luna. She and Luna are the same age difference as Bradley and I. I desperately want them to meet someday!

Okay back to some history. When I told Bradley why I disappeared from life and reconnecting and he told me about everything he'd gone through, there was no judgement, from either of us. It was the same little boy that held my hand when I got freaked out watching E.T. He was just an amazing friend. And still is.

In March of 2016 for an Airforce training something or other Bradley traveled to Melbourne, Florida. This is only 3 hours away from us. He wanted to meet us all. We hadn't seen each other in 25 years! And we were planning on reconnecting finally. 

My husband had to work so I packed up Luna and we went to Melbourne. We decided to hit the zoo. As a father missing his daughter, he immediately befriended Luna and what was both so strange and perfect, was how watching him with her made me remember more of our childhood together. He was silly and hilarious and all about her. He even got her to try her first snow cone. It was the perfect day, like in Tangled, "Best DAY EVER!"

I know that men and women aren't supposed to be friends. There will be people waiting for me to declare some kind of romantic love but it's the opposite. He's like my brother. He has talked me through some of my darkest moments. He has asked me to help him with some of his perspectives on parenting, marriage and life in general, and of course I harass him for the same. 

We've gone weeks without chatting much but we always check in and keep tabs on one another. When we got in the car accident he was living in Hawaii. When he saw the stuff on Facebook he messaged me in concern. I had just settled down at 11PM at night after an 8:30AM accident and worst day ever, and I just couldn't sleep. My husband was in a separate hospital and all I could do was lay my bloodied head down and try not to cry. 

I remember when he messaged me just mentally collapsing and Bradley calming me down over Facebook messenger because I told him I couldn't rest and was cold, and shaking, upset. I was sore, bruised, and uncomfortable while watching Luna sleep. He told me I was in shock and probably had some intense PTSD. He said that I should be in shock and needed to be gentle on myself. From thousands upon thousands of miles away, he calmed me down enough to get some rest.

These are the seemingly simple moments that confirm he's meant to be like an older brother to protect me from afar. I know this because when I've told him my worst attributes, my most regrettable acts, and all the bad with the good, he's never been mad at me or told me to go away. He's also kept me strong and fighting, never letting me give up on myself or my life.

Don't get me wrong, I have women friends who are my life blood, but there's something about the story of Bradley and I that is just too...stupendous to act like it doesn't bear meaning and purpose. He did give me permission to wax on about this and make this a big deal because...I mean look at that history. Nothing short of epic.

And maybe we won't be around each other in the way that we are now, forever, but I like to think that Luna and his daughter will meet and create the same kind of bond that will outlast our lifetimes. His daughter even inherited E.T! I'll have to report back on that chapter though. I better message him that I actually published this thing though...

Kids Clothes - Hand Me Downs Are Life

I remember over-buying clothes for when she was cute and chunky and I could get away with forcing her into little outfits. But now that she's older, my daughter lives in hand-me-downs. 

Kids stain and ruin everything but that is because they play hard in all of their clothes. I'm fortunate enough to have a friend with 3 older girls and we have been so blessed with hand me downs in general. I almost never buy anything new for my daughter. Also, my mom is a shop-aholic and she buys my daughter all the unnecessary things. Not kidding.

With all the clothes, hand me down and new alike, my daughter still somehow manages to only wear the same 4 or 5 articles of clothing. I used to try and arrange her drawers so she wouldn't wear out anything too specific. She now puts her laundry away though and rifles through there to find her favorites. Lost cause!

When people buy her new stuff, she wears it immediately and repeatedly, but lately I have to remind her to "wear the new." Her pants hilariously always have the butts of them rub off in pattern or worn down the most. All that time on the slide, climbing and being crazy.

I had an old friend who had a baby a couple years after me and I offered to give her a bunch of gently used things. Her response? "We just want new stuff, but thanks." To each their own, and everyone loves a baby shower but I was taken aback because baby stuff is expensive! Kids stuff is expensive.

My friend and I always gripe about how expensive kids shoes are. It's ridiculous because they don't even get longevity their feet grow so fast! So we pass down sneakers to her young daughter often because we both believe them to be an obnoxious expense. 

When friends by my daughter clothes, I feel so grateful. A cute shirt, a new dress, they go a long way! My mom still insists on her having Easter outfits and others just like to keep her trendy. 

I honestly don't even know how we'd afford to cloth my daughter without them haha. But I also like telling Luna, "Those are from so and so," "Those used to be so and so's." When she knows she seems to like them even more like she got something so cool that was effortlessly shared.

I try to make sure we pass on the blessings as well, whether it be to Salvation Army or to kids we know personally. Clothing can certainly withstand children and some families are desperately in need. One kid's slightly off color Disney shirt is another kiddo's fancy new Frozen fashion! Everyone deserves a chance at dressing up in whatever way possible.

I myself was blessed with work clothes hand me downs from friends because I rarely buy myself anything new or even have time to shop. My husband gets a lot of shoes and t-shirts from friends. I'm always just grateful. And any old shirts can always be a nightshirt because I live for PJs. 

Being fashionable and trendy costs a lot of money, so I just do what I can, for us all. This year we splurged on matching Christmas shirts, because they were on sale. As for my kiddo? Sometimes we get some My Little Pony and Trolls gear but most people like to send those as gifts. 

I am so grateful for hand me downs, willing to share and will never turn down a nice gesture such as shared fashions. Bring on the shoes, swim suits and cute tops! We are open for accepting such gifts and thankful that we know wonderful people willing to share! My living room is all hand me down furniture. It's like a way of life and I live to be frugal! Feel free to share your favorite hand me downs or how you 

My Parents Were Never As Nice To Me, As I Am To My Daughter...Or So We Tell Ourselves

Have you ever gotten one of those brilliant ideas based on a memory from your childhood that embodies a sense of nostalgia but also makes you so excited to share with your little one as well? In my experience, these often blow up in my face. But maybe that's just me.

I had a normal kid childhood. LOTS of playing outside, roller skating, riding bike, getting dirty, and plenty of swimming in the summer. Living with a little one in Florida has its hurdles but as soon as my little one was of age, I wanted to do all the things with her. The first lesson in outdoor fun was her getting bitten by weird creatures that left welts and discolored bruises or a rash. Now when we go visit Oregon and Pennsylvania, her favorite thing is being barefoot with no ant bites. And less humidity.

Swimming for me was a mess. I still can't swim well, but my daughter is a much better swimmer than I could ever be. I was the kid who got tossed into the deep end and could just barely dog paddle. At least we eased into it with my daughter. As someone with water issues, I was very receptive to any extra anxiety she could have. But she is like a little fish!

Now roller skating was the worst idea I've ever had. I think the first time we tried she was 4. Oh my gosh. They now have these ridiculous "trainers" which are like rolling walkers like old people use to help keep you up. I have a few things to say about this: When your skates get caught under them, you instantly trip and...my parents would have never paid for one of those things. In fact, I don't remember my parents "taking me" skating. I got dropped off and dragged around that rink with cousins or friends and if you fell? Too bad so sad, get up before you get rolled over! You just kept trying! Over and over!

For riding bicycle I remember my dad helping me a lot but my daughter and I just fight. She has legitimately fallen maybe once. The others were more like tip overs and she never even bled. I was the queen of falling off my bike. But if you stayed to cry, you got left behind. I push my daughter to just go! We fight and she'll relive those days in therapy I'm sure. Because I refuse to let her quit, or not learn how to ride a bike. I am determined to make sure we will ride together one day, no matter how much she whines.

As far as getting dirty, my kid is too much like me. I used to say I disliked getting dirty, but then I would spend a weekend with my little boy cousins and that would go right out the window. I always was outside making things with nature, picking plants, playing with and collecting rocks and having adventures. My daughter is the same. While other girls are playing make-up and nails, she is making rock islands and villages and all kinds of things with dirt and sticks and mud. And that's how it should me, in my humble opinion.

Don't get me wrong, she has a tablet. She is definitely a kid in the technological, smart phone world but these aren't things that keep us from being outside and certainly they don't keep us from play dates and other interactions. We keep all that stuff as low key as possible. I still believe kids need to be kids. 

In general, I have to say that I feel I'm way nicer to my daughter than my parents were to me. I don't remember being allowed to sneak into bed or do much more than use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I almost never got to pick what was on TV or what we watched. They took me to some movies and transported me to and from play dates but rarely stayed for the duration. And I was that weird kid that LOVED having a babysitter because my parents were lame. 

I know there are a lot of jokes about  parents and kids getting softer, being coddled and it was never like that "back in my day." There is some truth to it but mostly you figure out what works for you at the time that you're parenting. Sometimes I can be so calm and supportive and helpful to my little one. Other days I'm screaming at her because I asked 4 times already to put the damn shoes away! We all have our moments.

I like taking my daughter to do stuff. We had 3 epic years of Disney fun and memories. We have beach adventures and do crafting things, we go see movies, hit the zoo and aquarium, we do park play dates and get treats. Maybe my parents enjoyed some of those things too, or maybe they just suffered through for my enjoyment. You never know. 

I'm sure Luna will one day report I was not nice. I do speak fluent sarcasm, that's for sure, but I try and be "nicer" than the generation before me. I definitely have had moments where I've uttered the same things my parents did in my childhood that haunt me. Things about making extra messes when I clean and don't ruin my nice things. I then immediately feel bad and give them a treat because...I'm nicer to my daughter than my parents ever were to me!