I would call this challenge a success and I still have about six technical entries left in order to call it complete. After the response to my music post of favorite songs, and sharing something uncomfortable, I think some of the last few parts of the challenge are a little unnecessary.
One of them is about my best physical features and to quote the great Kristen Bell, whom I look up to and adore, I don't want to indulge in "a comparison hangover." I also think that physical features are subjective. I once had a crush tell me that my nose and my ass on my best friend's body would be "one banging ass chick." So my only good features are my nose and my butt? Recently I had someone else tell me it was my smile. Doesn't it depend on who you're talking to? And why indulge in more judgement when the world is already so judgmental?
Another challenge was to list favorite blogs. As a blog writer I'm quite the "faker" because I don't read many blogs. I don't have much free time and it's really hard for me to want to read on the computer when I write, edit, post and spreadsheet all day. I'll catch a book or article from time to time but I'm a super slow reader also.
The 27th challenge is what makes me feel better, always. Kid cuddles or dog cuddles are number one but also a good movie, and a good cry. In desperate times I need Ben and Jerry's or Cold Stone. When things are really bad I need junk food like Doritos and Buffalo Chicken Dip.
The 28th challenge was to write about the last time I cried. I'm a frustrated crier so I probably shed a tear or two every other day honestly. I often feel so overwhelmed by the stress, anxiety and should-do's and can't do's that I just can't contain the frustration and it comes out of my eye ducts. I take on so much mentally, much of my own overthinking and anxious fretting for sure, but it still affects me to the point of tears. These are like cry for a minute then suck it up moments though. I was trained to never let them see you down!
The 29th was the top things on my bucket list which would be visiting New Zealand and another European Trip, this one with my daughter. I studied in Europe nearly 11 years ago and I had the time of my life. I wanted to live there. I cannot wait to take my daughter when she's like 16 or something. And New Zealand? I need the Shire and hiking yesterday!
The 30th challenge was comfort foods? See what makes me feel better, always. It kind of all goes together and doesn't require much of a post.
The last challenge was to be about my weird quirks. Oh my...there's the weird way my brain works for control and routines, the ability to maintain controlled chaos and the strange ways I have to adjust social media stuff to make it less...negative for myself. I have a lot. Let's do this, why don't you come chat with me and pick out some. That's not judgey right? Ha! We all have weirdness, some of us are just better at showing it.
I plan on writing about one more revealing type of thing before I take a bit of a break because of work and life and such. This challenge did give me what I intended, which was a really good exercise in writing again and a renewed sense of why I fell in love with writing to begin with. It got me out of a funk and away from myself, which is always a fun journey and I really appreciate those who joined me on it!
I'd still love to hear from anyone and accept all feedback, even if it might not be something I want to hear. So this wraps up the challenge part but please don't think I won't keep posting and updating!
Showing posts with label Daily blog challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daily blog challenge. Show all posts
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Blog Post Challenge 24: A Difficult Time In My Life
Well this is kind of an intense subject. There have been a few times in my 33 years on this planet that have been difficult and most definitely parenthood in general has been rough, but I'm going to take a risk and write about something I'm super not comfortable talking about and we'll see how it is received.
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
Blog Challenge 23: My Pet Peeves
Although I often mention diatribes, this seems like an excuse to complain. But in the spirit of adhering to the challenge, I can bite.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people trim their nails not over a receptacle. I bring this one up because I have seen two people in my office do this. In shared spaces, if you must trim your nails, do it over a trash can, not over the floor. EW!
I also cannot stand the word HEIGHTH! That is not an actual word! It is not like WIDTH. It is HEIGHT! Generally, grammar things are my biggest pet peeves. Such as, no you may not ax me a question but you are welcome to ask me. And throw shade? Whomever coined "Throw shade at," needs to go back to school. Permanently. Oh and it is not "expresso" no matter how fast it hits you.
Oh and lastly, to quote Ross from Friends: "Y-o-u-'-r-e means YOU ARE, y-o-u-r means YOUR!"
As someone who studied grammar, I will always look up something to check instead of misusing or misspelling. My goodness being able to speak correctly is important!
Yesterday I got to write about one of my all time favorite things, music, and it was one of my highest-viewed posts. I just wanted to thank you all for going on this blog challenge with me. I will be powering through a lot this week as next week I have an overtime work project that will dominate any down time I would have. But please know how much I appreciate you all. Feel free to post comments and suggestions about what I should write!
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people trim their nails not over a receptacle. I bring this one up because I have seen two people in my office do this. In shared spaces, if you must trim your nails, do it over a trash can, not over the floor. EW!
I also cannot stand the word HEIGHTH! That is not an actual word! It is not like WIDTH. It is HEIGHT! Generally, grammar things are my biggest pet peeves. Such as, no you may not ax me a question but you are welcome to ask me. And throw shade? Whomever coined "Throw shade at," needs to go back to school. Permanently. Oh and it is not "expresso" no matter how fast it hits you.
Oh and lastly, to quote Ross from Friends: "Y-o-u-'-r-e means YOU ARE, y-o-u-r means YOUR!"
As someone who studied grammar, I will always look up something to check instead of misusing or misspelling. My goodness being able to speak correctly is important!
Yesterday I got to write about one of my all time favorite things, music, and it was one of my highest-viewed posts. I just wanted to thank you all for going on this blog challenge with me. I will be powering through a lot this week as next week I have an overtime work project that will dominate any down time I would have. But please know how much I appreciate you all. Feel free to post comments and suggestions about what I should write!
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
Daily Blog Challenge 22: Ten Favorite Songs
Only 10? Only Ten FAVORITE SONGS! My goodness, these will have to be in order from least favorite to most favorite. Here we go:
10. Joni Mitchell - The Circle Game. Google immediately if you have not listened to this gem! When I turned 30, I demanded my dad help me indulge my Joni Mitchell love affair with her album, on vinyl, Ladies of the Canyon. Not only is this one of the best songs of motherhood ever written but my goodness it is simply gorgeous musically as well. My favorite lines are probably the chorus which include: "And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We're captive on a carousel of time. We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came and go round and round and round in the circle game!"
9. Simon and Garfunkel - El Condor Pasa (If I Could). I found this one on a soundtrack and I feel so in love. I have felt that Paul Simon and/or Simon and Garfunkel are poets and seriously very underrated but this song just got me. I can actually play this loud and proud and rock out. Favorite lines include: "I'd rather be a forest than a street. Yes I would, if I could, I surely would. I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet. Yes I could, if I could, I surely would.
8. Death Cab for Cutie - Lightness. I could listen to this for days at a time. This is a seriously underrated, gorgeous, tragic and poetic piece. I have listened to this loud singing, "Oh, instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what you know you should want..." It never gets old or any less true.
7. Rilo Kiley - A Better Son/Daughter. This song I have belted more times than I can count and I cannot stop thinking Jenny Lewis wrote this about me: It goes like this: "Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move, awake but cannot open my eyes. And the weight is crushing down on my lungs I know I can't breathe and hope someone will save me this time. And your mother's still calling you insane and high, swearing it's different this time. So you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her that God never blessed her inside. Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for for upsetting things, crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide and you loved things just because, like the sick and the dying. And sometimes when you're on you're really fucking on and your friends they sing along and they love you. But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases you for weeks and attacks it. But you'll fight it and you'll make it through, you'll fake it if you have to and you'll show up to work with a smile! You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend. You'll be awake, you'll be alert you'll be positive though it hurts, and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends. You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest you'll be brave, you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful. YOU'LL BE HAPPY!"
6. The Decemberists - Engine Driver. The Decemberists have mastered music that comes with epic tales of love and loss. They very much tackle certain eras of tales and recreate a musical narrative. They are not to be missed. This song just has such an amazing melody and story that I connected with, quickly. "I am a writer, writer of fictions, I am the heart that you call home. And I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones."
5. Hanson - Strong Enough to Break. This was my car accident anthem and inspired one of my tattoos. The lyrics that got me most were: "Things keep coming and I keep wondering, I start feeling the walls close in. Things keep coming and I keep stumbling, I start feeling strong enough to break." Hanson is actually a great band past MMMBop and before you judge, listen to a recent album and message me. Let's chat!
4. The Shins - Simple Song. Have you ever liked a song and never really listened to it? Then one day you listen and you're like WHOA, they totally nailed it!? That's this song. Specifically when he sings "I know that things can really get rough, when you go it alone. Don't thinking you gotta be tough and play like a stone. Could be there's nothing else in our lives so critical as this little home!" And then also, "Love's such a delicate thing that we do, with nothing to prove, which I never knew!"
3. Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet. Does this even require a description? I think it does not. This is an epic tale and musically, Mark Knopfler is a god among men. Listen to it. Over and over. And it'll change your life!
2. The Beatles - A Day In The Life. I love ALL BEATLES. They will never get old. This one is both gut-wrenching and gorgeous all at the same time. I've listened to this in times of joy and sadness and it speaks to both, consistently. Over and over.
1. Death Cab for Cutie - Title and Registration. The lyrics of this ENTIRE song are beyond perfection. I have seen this live nearly 10 times and each time it gets better. I could never get sick of this one. It never gets...untrue!
So here we are fans! Enjoy and thank you for reading and following with me! Hope you discover some awesome new music today!
10. Joni Mitchell - The Circle Game. Google immediately if you have not listened to this gem! When I turned 30, I demanded my dad help me indulge my Joni Mitchell love affair with her album, on vinyl, Ladies of the Canyon. Not only is this one of the best songs of motherhood ever written but my goodness it is simply gorgeous musically as well. My favorite lines are probably the chorus which include: "And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We're captive on a carousel of time. We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came and go round and round and round in the circle game!"
9. Simon and Garfunkel - El Condor Pasa (If I Could). I found this one on a soundtrack and I feel so in love. I have felt that Paul Simon and/or Simon and Garfunkel are poets and seriously very underrated but this song just got me. I can actually play this loud and proud and rock out. Favorite lines include: "I'd rather be a forest than a street. Yes I would, if I could, I surely would. I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet. Yes I could, if I could, I surely would.
8. Death Cab for Cutie - Lightness. I could listen to this for days at a time. This is a seriously underrated, gorgeous, tragic and poetic piece. I have listened to this loud singing, "Oh, instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what you know you should want..." It never gets old or any less true.
7. Rilo Kiley - A Better Son/Daughter. This song I have belted more times than I can count and I cannot stop thinking Jenny Lewis wrote this about me: It goes like this: "Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move, awake but cannot open my eyes. And the weight is crushing down on my lungs I know I can't breathe and hope someone will save me this time. And your mother's still calling you insane and high, swearing it's different this time. So you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her that God never blessed her inside. Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for for upsetting things, crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide and you loved things just because, like the sick and the dying. And sometimes when you're on you're really fucking on and your friends they sing along and they love you. But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases you for weeks and attacks it. But you'll fight it and you'll make it through, you'll fake it if you have to and you'll show up to work with a smile! You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend. You'll be awake, you'll be alert you'll be positive though it hurts, and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends. You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest you'll be brave, you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful. YOU'LL BE HAPPY!"
6. The Decemberists - Engine Driver. The Decemberists have mastered music that comes with epic tales of love and loss. They very much tackle certain eras of tales and recreate a musical narrative. They are not to be missed. This song just has such an amazing melody and story that I connected with, quickly. "I am a writer, writer of fictions, I am the heart that you call home. And I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones."
5. Hanson - Strong Enough to Break. This was my car accident anthem and inspired one of my tattoos. The lyrics that got me most were: "Things keep coming and I keep wondering, I start feeling the walls close in. Things keep coming and I keep stumbling, I start feeling strong enough to break." Hanson is actually a great band past MMMBop and before you judge, listen to a recent album and message me. Let's chat!
4. The Shins - Simple Song. Have you ever liked a song and never really listened to it? Then one day you listen and you're like WHOA, they totally nailed it!? That's this song. Specifically when he sings "I know that things can really get rough, when you go it alone. Don't thinking you gotta be tough and play like a stone. Could be there's nothing else in our lives so critical as this little home!" And then also, "Love's such a delicate thing that we do, with nothing to prove, which I never knew!"
3. Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet. Does this even require a description? I think it does not. This is an epic tale and musically, Mark Knopfler is a god among men. Listen to it. Over and over. And it'll change your life!
2. The Beatles - A Day In The Life. I love ALL BEATLES. They will never get old. This one is both gut-wrenching and gorgeous all at the same time. I've listened to this in times of joy and sadness and it speaks to both, consistently. Over and over.
So here we are fans! Enjoy and thank you for reading and following with me! Hope you discover some awesome new music today!
Daily Challenge 21: Something I Miss
Something I miss very much lately is the house I grew up in. Lately in my lottery-like fantasies I have hoped to buy my old childhood home and move back near my bestie to raise my little one in the best place ever. Nothing about my childhood home let me down before all the me being 12 years old engulfed in family drama.
You could smell my dad's cooking on Thanksgiving upstairs and when he made pies or baked anything it made the house warm and welcoming. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It was an old house with creaks that made me feel safe, not scared. It was clean and homey and filled with good things and comfort. It had a huge back yard with a hand-built-by-dad swing set and play house. My golden retriever ruled the yard. The garage smelled like lawnmower and old tools.
Sometimes I think I miss what the house represented, which was simple family of us three, and I worry that my daughter is missing out on that. Sometimes I think that I just miss it because I'm going through some mid-life crisis type thing. I guess we'll see.
I miss holidays with cousins and presents and the Christmas tree lighting the front window. I miss the brick sidewalk and the square less than a block down. I miss riding bikes with neighborhood kids and never being bored. I miss walks to the river and bouncing between houses with friends. I miss watching TV with my dad and listening to music in my room. Maybe I just really miss childhood. Regardless, challenge accepted and these are the things I currently miss. Way to bring on the nostalgia!
You could smell my dad's cooking on Thanksgiving upstairs and when he made pies or baked anything it made the house warm and welcoming. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It was an old house with creaks that made me feel safe, not scared. It was clean and homey and filled with good things and comfort. It had a huge back yard with a hand-built-by-dad swing set and play house. My golden retriever ruled the yard. The garage smelled like lawnmower and old tools.
Sometimes I think I miss what the house represented, which was simple family of us three, and I worry that my daughter is missing out on that. Sometimes I think that I just miss it because I'm going through some mid-life crisis type thing. I guess we'll see.
I miss holidays with cousins and presents and the Christmas tree lighting the front window. I miss the brick sidewalk and the square less than a block down. I miss riding bikes with neighborhood kids and never being bored. I miss walks to the river and bouncing between houses with friends. I miss watching TV with my dad and listening to music in my room. Maybe I just really miss childhood. Regardless, challenge accepted and these are the things I currently miss. Way to bring on the nostalgia!
Blog Challenge 20: Where I Want to Be In 10 Years
Where do I want to be in 10 years? Is there a good answer for that question? Retired?
My goal is way less debt, way more fun memories, and being secure in my job. Totally lame right?
I used to have some pretty serious goals in my life. And when you get into the harsh light of reality you often have to curb those and settle into being able to pay bills on time and not constantly asking for money from your parents.
I wanted to be writing for a magazine, I wanted to be successful with a house and kiddos and dogs. Some of those things have become realities and some I've had to take what I can get. Fitness goals are met for me often, running races and such. Financial goals plague me, personal goals make me very depressed and life goals often achieve the same for me.
Then I think of the cliche response, "I just want to be happy!" Actually, I just want a sense of calm with no fallout. I want some stability and security. Those are big deals for me and if I could meet that life goal, talk about a payoff!
In 10 years I want my daughter to be kicking ass at high school and growing into a better person than I could ever be. I want my job to pay me well and give me lots of paid vacation time so I can better enjoy life. I want my husband to have job security and happiness. I want to not lose sleep over dirty grout, ruined tile and baseboards.
For me, so long as I have a happy, healthy kiddo, wherever she is is exactly where I want to be. The other things are nice goals to have but so long as I have my kid by my side I'm good! I'll let you know how it turns out!
My goal is way less debt, way more fun memories, and being secure in my job. Totally lame right?
I used to have some pretty serious goals in my life. And when you get into the harsh light of reality you often have to curb those and settle into being able to pay bills on time and not constantly asking for money from your parents.
I wanted to be writing for a magazine, I wanted to be successful with a house and kiddos and dogs. Some of those things have become realities and some I've had to take what I can get. Fitness goals are met for me often, running races and such. Financial goals plague me, personal goals make me very depressed and life goals often achieve the same for me.
Then I think of the cliche response, "I just want to be happy!" Actually, I just want a sense of calm with no fallout. I want some stability and security. Those are big deals for me and if I could meet that life goal, talk about a payoff!
In 10 years I want my daughter to be kicking ass at high school and growing into a better person than I could ever be. I want my job to pay me well and give me lots of paid vacation time so I can better enjoy life. I want my husband to have job security and happiness. I want to not lose sleep over dirty grout, ruined tile and baseboards.
For me, so long as I have a happy, healthy kiddo, wherever she is is exactly where I want to be. The other things are nice goals to have but so long as I have my kid by my side I'm good! I'll let you know how it turns out!
Friday, August 31, 2018
Daily Challenge 19: My Worst Habits
If we are going to lay out worst habits...mine would be biting fingernails. It goes hand in hand with my anxiety.
I've been a nail chewer since I was little. I can still hear hear the scolding. When I get my nails done or paint them I am usually okay, but mostly if I am stressed or anxious that is when I chew away.
Other worst habits? I'm super self critical. In so many ways I think we can all say this about ourselves but I can get very mean to myself. Maybe that's a womanly trait, which is sad, but I think we often beat ourselves up far more than we deserve.
Talking about worst habits for a blog challenge is kind of a self-critical practice when we live in a society that preaches an awful lot about self care. Maybe some of our worst habits are pertaining to self care? Like if you like to unwind by doing a facial and plucking eyebrows and doing some personal maintenance to boost your confidence, maybe some see that as worst habit and plain old narcissism. What a thought that our worst habits could be tools in our preservation in one way or another!
So if your worst habit is working out too much? Like, what is that? I recently heard a comedian talk about how women want to be so skinny that people are concerned for their health. But then again some guys say they like thicker women. Where is the balance? Maybe a worst habit is being obsessed with balance! This is a dangerous blog challenge, so I digress.
Let's get back to the main subject of worst habits. I think all of these worst things are just subject to personal judgment. I would say my husband's worst habit is leaving his clothes all over the house, he might say something completely different about his own AND about mine. Regardless, I feel it best not to dwell.
How about no more "my worst," and we re-frame this as "a habit I'd like to work on." Because isn't it all about attitude in the end? Let's work on all of it!
I've been a nail chewer since I was little. I can still hear hear the scolding. When I get my nails done or paint them I am usually okay, but mostly if I am stressed or anxious that is when I chew away.
Other worst habits? I'm super self critical. In so many ways I think we can all say this about ourselves but I can get very mean to myself. Maybe that's a womanly trait, which is sad, but I think we often beat ourselves up far more than we deserve.
Talking about worst habits for a blog challenge is kind of a self-critical practice when we live in a society that preaches an awful lot about self care. Maybe some of our worst habits are pertaining to self care? Like if you like to unwind by doing a facial and plucking eyebrows and doing some personal maintenance to boost your confidence, maybe some see that as worst habit and plain old narcissism. What a thought that our worst habits could be tools in our preservation in one way or another!
So if your worst habit is working out too much? Like, what is that? I recently heard a comedian talk about how women want to be so skinny that people are concerned for their health. But then again some guys say they like thicker women. Where is the balance? Maybe a worst habit is being obsessed with balance! This is a dangerous blog challenge, so I digress.
Let's get back to the main subject of worst habits. I think all of these worst things are just subject to personal judgment. I would say my husband's worst habit is leaving his clothes all over the house, he might say something completely different about his own AND about mine. Regardless, I feel it best not to dwell.
How about no more "my worst," and we re-frame this as "a habit I'd like to work on." Because isn't it all about attitude in the end? Let's work on all of it!
Daily Blog Challenge 18: What Am I Afraid Of?
Are we talking big picture, deep stuff like "failure" or actual fears like heights or spiders? Maybe we should cover it all.
When you're younger you might be afraid of the dark, new places or trying certain new things. As you get older you become more aware and you fear getting lost or go through the whole "death fixation."
My actual fear? S-N-A-K-E-S. I mean like screaming, shaking, anxiety, knees buckling fear of those creatures. They need to stay far away and if you ever "joke" about my fear or try and scare me with one, I will show you why you should have been more constructive during your time in your death fixation phase.
Spiders don't bother me, bugs in general I can deal with, lizards don't bother me. Snakes scare the beejesus out of me. They need to respect my space and I will respect theirs.
Other fears? The real deal ones including being a bad mother, not being able to pay bills, and letting the decisions of others define or dictate my life. But those are normal, right?
As someone who has been watching way too much Dexter lately I can tell you that fear is quite the motivator. And we all have such different fears. I never really feel afraid of heights until I'm up higher and then I'm like "uh oh!"
Sharing fears is tough too, especially in a relationship. It makes us so vulnerable and sometimes creates more fear in and of itself. However, it can also bring you closer together when used properly, in many ways.
Some people say you have to conquer your fears and I should just like, get a snake or something but I disagree. I feel like some fears are just meant to stay scary and some you grow out of, like being afraid of the dark. And let's not forget that some childhood fears like abandonment, getting actually lost, or not being good enough just grow with you.
Those are the fears that keep therapy and billion dollar business, but that's another diatribe. Those fears don't have to define us though and can also give us strength in tackling them and overcoming some aspects as we become who we are meant to be. And often, as fearful as that journey is, it's worth the fear and vulnerability to become more of ourselves through it all. I'm still not touching a snake or being near one, though. Nope.
When you're younger you might be afraid of the dark, new places or trying certain new things. As you get older you become more aware and you fear getting lost or go through the whole "death fixation."
My actual fear? S-N-A-K-E-S. I mean like screaming, shaking, anxiety, knees buckling fear of those creatures. They need to stay far away and if you ever "joke" about my fear or try and scare me with one, I will show you why you should have been more constructive during your time in your death fixation phase.
Spiders don't bother me, bugs in general I can deal with, lizards don't bother me. Snakes scare the beejesus out of me. They need to respect my space and I will respect theirs.
Other fears? The real deal ones including being a bad mother, not being able to pay bills, and letting the decisions of others define or dictate my life. But those are normal, right?
As someone who has been watching way too much Dexter lately I can tell you that fear is quite the motivator. And we all have such different fears. I never really feel afraid of heights until I'm up higher and then I'm like "uh oh!"
Sharing fears is tough too, especially in a relationship. It makes us so vulnerable and sometimes creates more fear in and of itself. However, it can also bring you closer together when used properly, in many ways.
Some people say you have to conquer your fears and I should just like, get a snake or something but I disagree. I feel like some fears are just meant to stay scary and some you grow out of, like being afraid of the dark. And let's not forget that some childhood fears like abandonment, getting actually lost, or not being good enough just grow with you.
Those are the fears that keep therapy and billion dollar business, but that's another diatribe. Those fears don't have to define us though and can also give us strength in tackling them and overcoming some aspects as we become who we are meant to be. And often, as fearful as that journey is, it's worth the fear and vulnerability to become more of ourselves through it all. I'm still not touching a snake or being near one, though. Nope.
Daily Challenge 17: My Favorite Childhood Book
Anyone who says they are not a fan of Dr. Seuss is lying, but my favorite childhood book is not that of a Seuss creation, although I love The Lorax very much. My favorite childhood book is none other than "Where The Wild Things Are." Not only is the art amazing but I love the story.
The story is of a little boy being punished and sent to his room and then escaping to a world of his own where he finds worse things to deal with then his present circumstance I think is quite a tale. Imagination is underrated anymore and I always loved Max's ability to create and entire realm and walk you through it. I also love any story where so-called monsters are actually gentle creatures who just want some company.
I think my favorite line is "Let the wild rumpus START!" But I also love when he commands the wild things to, "Be still!" I read this book to my little one in a very animated way and often say "I'll eat you up I love you so!" My mom also had a coffee table book of Maurice Sendak art that I used to thumb through.
In other childhood literature I will tell you an amusing story. I always loved any of the works by Shel Silverstein. As part of my fear of snakes my dad used to read me Silverstein's "Boa Constrictor" to make me even more afraid it seemed. I loved Where The Sidewalk Ends as well. My dad used to preach a sermon from "The Giving Tree" and that book was always around. I loved it so much when I was little.
When I was 18 and a full time nanny I remember getting a copy of it for the little girl I watched and I read it out loud to her and had this cloud of realization come over me..."This book is terrible! That boy abused the tree and just used him! Humans are garbage!"
I remember calling my dad, half in tears saying "Why did you read us that? That is a horrible story about how people just use things and are selfish!" He told me that it was a good lesson in humans versus nature. He reasoned that we need to be nicer to nature but also remember there is good in the world with human nature too. He had a point.
I still read it from time to time but still think it is mostly depressing. Most kids books are slightly sad or "off" if you think about it, but that one about killed my spirit in adulthood. It's funny how when we read these stories to our children, they now mean something completely different but these were the literary building blocks of our beginnings. I think I'll go to "Where The Wild Things Are" and report back.
The story is of a little boy being punished and sent to his room and then escaping to a world of his own where he finds worse things to deal with then his present circumstance I think is quite a tale. Imagination is underrated anymore and I always loved Max's ability to create and entire realm and walk you through it. I also love any story where so-called monsters are actually gentle creatures who just want some company.
I think my favorite line is "Let the wild rumpus START!" But I also love when he commands the wild things to, "Be still!" I read this book to my little one in a very animated way and often say "I'll eat you up I love you so!" My mom also had a coffee table book of Maurice Sendak art that I used to thumb through.
In other childhood literature I will tell you an amusing story. I always loved any of the works by Shel Silverstein. As part of my fear of snakes my dad used to read me Silverstein's "Boa Constrictor" to make me even more afraid it seemed. I loved Where The Sidewalk Ends as well. My dad used to preach a sermon from "The Giving Tree" and that book was always around. I loved it so much when I was little.
When I was 18 and a full time nanny I remember getting a copy of it for the little girl I watched and I read it out loud to her and had this cloud of realization come over me..."This book is terrible! That boy abused the tree and just used him! Humans are garbage!"
I remember calling my dad, half in tears saying "Why did you read us that? That is a horrible story about how people just use things and are selfish!" He told me that it was a good lesson in humans versus nature. He reasoned that we need to be nicer to nature but also remember there is good in the world with human nature too. He had a point.
I still read it from time to time but still think it is mostly depressing. Most kids books are slightly sad or "off" if you think about it, but that one about killed my spirit in adulthood. It's funny how when we read these stories to our children, they now mean something completely different but these were the literary building blocks of our beginnings. I think I'll go to "Where The Wild Things Are" and report back.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Challenge 15: Timeline of My Day
Some of these challenges are a bit short and slightly silly feeling to me. But they are all good exercises and I'm embracing the challenge. Although it feels self-indulgent, here is the timeline of my day.
Monday through Friday my alarm rings at 4:45AM for a 5 or 5:15AM workout. Then I get back home by 6:20AM to pack my lunch, grab a bowl of cereal and make my coffee. This is followed by the shower, laying out clothes for the kiddo, and getting ready for work.
I have to be in the car by about 7:15AM to get to work by 8. Usually I help the little one get dressed and she says goodbye to me and blows me kisses from the front stoop. Between 7:50AM and 8AM I get into my office. From 8AM to 9:30AM I have to edit and compile reports and charts for my job. At 9:20AM the same customer calls me to read him a copy of the newsletter I just published that morning.
From then on I count down to my 12:00PM hour-long lunch and usually have a 10AM snack. On my lunch I walk around or make phone calls to catch up with people because by the end of the day I just zone out.
My afternoon often drags from 1PM to 5PM with end of the day numbers submitted just after 4PM. I take phone calls and do social media updates for work. I catch up on news and a few things here and there. I walk out of the door at 5PM, and unless there is crazy traffic, I can usually make it back to my neighborhood by about 5:45PM.
Three days a week I hit the gym in the evenings too, for Spin class or a run. Then I get home to tidy up and get the kiddo ready for bed time. We read between 2 and 4 books and have about 10 minutes of end of day recap and cuddles before I head out to make myself dinner and do whatever chores are required to make the rest of the week easier. So I eat around 8PM and usually am in bed between 9:30PM and 10PM to get some sleep and do it all over.
Weekends I try to "sleep in" between 7 and 8AM. Sometimes I hit a 9:30AM Saturday morning spin class and Sundays usually involve Church. I thrive on routine and when things get thrown off it is definitely not an easy transition for me. So much of my anxiety contributes to that. Although I think most people can function better when they have a normal schedule.
With my daughter's schedule we have yet to throw in any sports or crazy after school activities outside of basic after care. She thrives with other people and routines of her own but she comes home tired and so do I.
My husband works nights so we rarely cross paths and he is the guy who gets the little one to where she needs to be in the mornings. I'm the bed time guru. Each day follows roughly the same timeline with some fun and alterations here and there. It's tough to motivate from time to time but once you just get up and do it, it's not so bad.
Now feel free to judge, eye roll or think that I am crazy with this schedule but this is years of working and figuring out how to keep everyone sane. This schedule is the closest we have all been to that sanity!
Monday through Friday my alarm rings at 4:45AM for a 5 or 5:15AM workout. Then I get back home by 6:20AM to pack my lunch, grab a bowl of cereal and make my coffee. This is followed by the shower, laying out clothes for the kiddo, and getting ready for work.
I have to be in the car by about 7:15AM to get to work by 8. Usually I help the little one get dressed and she says goodbye to me and blows me kisses from the front stoop. Between 7:50AM and 8AM I get into my office. From 8AM to 9:30AM I have to edit and compile reports and charts for my job. At 9:20AM the same customer calls me to read him a copy of the newsletter I just published that morning.
From then on I count down to my 12:00PM hour-long lunch and usually have a 10AM snack. On my lunch I walk around or make phone calls to catch up with people because by the end of the day I just zone out.
My afternoon often drags from 1PM to 5PM with end of the day numbers submitted just after 4PM. I take phone calls and do social media updates for work. I catch up on news and a few things here and there. I walk out of the door at 5PM, and unless there is crazy traffic, I can usually make it back to my neighborhood by about 5:45PM.
Three days a week I hit the gym in the evenings too, for Spin class or a run. Then I get home to tidy up and get the kiddo ready for bed time. We read between 2 and 4 books and have about 10 minutes of end of day recap and cuddles before I head out to make myself dinner and do whatever chores are required to make the rest of the week easier. So I eat around 8PM and usually am in bed between 9:30PM and 10PM to get some sleep and do it all over.
Weekends I try to "sleep in" between 7 and 8AM. Sometimes I hit a 9:30AM Saturday morning spin class and Sundays usually involve Church. I thrive on routine and when things get thrown off it is definitely not an easy transition for me. So much of my anxiety contributes to that. Although I think most people can function better when they have a normal schedule.
With my daughter's schedule we have yet to throw in any sports or crazy after school activities outside of basic after care. She thrives with other people and routines of her own but she comes home tired and so do I.
My husband works nights so we rarely cross paths and he is the guy who gets the little one to where she needs to be in the mornings. I'm the bed time guru. Each day follows roughly the same timeline with some fun and alterations here and there. It's tough to motivate from time to time but once you just get up and do it, it's not so bad.
Now feel free to judge, eye roll or think that I am crazy with this schedule but this is years of working and figuring out how to keep everyone sane. This schedule is the closest we have all been to that sanity!
Friday, August 24, 2018
Blog Challenge 11: My Most Proud Moment
I feel like if I were to type "When I had my daughter," the moms would all be like "Yas queen," and all the single ladies would be like"Oh, seriously?" So I think we need to dissect this a bit.
Being proud eh? My most proud moment when I was younger was winning the 4th Grade Talent Show for singing "Castle on a Cloud" from Les Miserables. My mom found me a dingy old nightgown at GoodWill and unearthed a ratty stuffed animal. I've always loved to sing but stage fright is no joke. I took voice lessons from 2nd grade through Sophomore year and then high school politics killed my dream of ever being able to have any real performer-type things happen.
Anyway, my Voice Instructor played the piano for me and chose the song. I always wanted Disney. She always wanted Broadway. I remember being nervous and having this bear in my hands as part of the act, and as I sang and the more nervous I got, the more I just focused on the bear. It was just me and the stuffed animal. The song is about a sad, poor little child in London dreaming of not sweeping floors and one day having toys. It may have been my finest performance of all time and it won me first place against the boys in my class doing comedy routines and other people being talented as well. We may have a rogue VHS of this somewhere.
My one regret is I told my dad it wasn't worth him coming and that he also made me more nervous, so he missed it. My voice teacher said she almost messed up on the piano because she was so entranced by me and this bear performing such a heart-wrenching song to perfection. That was my peak I think, my American Idol moment.
Other proud moments in my life? At 18, I once told off an old man at Burger King who insinuated I was stupid for not being fast at math, which has always been a struggle for me. I was working the register and it broke and to make sure I gave correct change I started writing it out and he went off on me. I approached him later and told him I hope he never spoke to anyone else who was waiting on him like that again and he should be ashamed of himself for being so rude to someone trying to do well at their job.
I had proud moments with the kids I was a nanny for when they excelled at things, which they did often and still do. I've had proud moments of watching some of my favorite people grow into the fabulous mothers and women they are. But I will completely admit that my proud moment of ushering my baby from womb to world was because I did it completely without drugs, after my own mother said I wouldn't be able to handle it. Take that mom!
To make it even better, when I was super dilated and we had to ask for a wheelchair to get me into the building from the car where Luna was almost born Ricky Bobby style, I was yelling a lot. It hurt! The nurses looked up from their charting and conversations all annoyed and said, "Is this your first baby, honey?" "Yeah," I muttered in pain. "Okay sweetie, just calm down and keep it down, you'll be fine." I could feel the she-dragon and if another contraction hadn't hit me so fast, I was moments away from yelling "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Less than 10 minutes later I was in a delivery room pushing, so I think I had a right to be a little loud.
My midwife said to me when I was screaming, "You need to push down and when you scream you push outward. Push down!" Getting my perfect daughter out in 3, bad ass, hardcore pushes, and then apparently making an intern faint, was a proud moment.
In motherhood, however, my proud moments have come from watching her with other people. It's not about walking and talking but her attitude that makes me proud. That kid perseveres just like her stubborn mother and when that happens, I get proud.
Last year she had a little boy in her after school program who kept hitting her in her crotch region and also put his hands on her throat once. I harnessed my mama bear and I said, "Baby, no one is allowed to touch you without your permission. And no one but mommy, daddy, grandma and a teacher helping you in the potty, goes near your private parts and still, you communicate with us when that happens. Now, we don't hit or hurt anyone, but if that boy is hurting you, and you need to get away, you get away from him and get help. Tell a teacher. You push him off of you and get to someone who can help. You don't let him hurt you!" She said "Okay mommy, I understand."
I was thankful it never came to that, but proud of her for telling adults what was happening and that she didn't like it. Most 4-year-old's might not. She now quotes the Aristocats often saying "Ladies do not start fights but we know how to finish them!" I do not disagree with her.
Overall though, I work on being proud of myself and I do this daily. We are our own worst critics aren't we? I get proud of myself when I get through a horrible day with no wine or no crying! I am proud of myself for working out consistently and finding ways to manage my anxiety. I'm proud of myself for knowing when to let people in and knowing when to just shut up. I'm proud of myself for not giving up when life has beaten me to a pulp but also not giving up on myself. And I'm excited for more and more most-proud moments, especially when you least expect them. We'll see if any are blog-worthy!
Being proud eh? My most proud moment when I was younger was winning the 4th Grade Talent Show for singing "Castle on a Cloud" from Les Miserables. My mom found me a dingy old nightgown at GoodWill and unearthed a ratty stuffed animal. I've always loved to sing but stage fright is no joke. I took voice lessons from 2nd grade through Sophomore year and then high school politics killed my dream of ever being able to have any real performer-type things happen.
Anyway, my Voice Instructor played the piano for me and chose the song. I always wanted Disney. She always wanted Broadway. I remember being nervous and having this bear in my hands as part of the act, and as I sang and the more nervous I got, the more I just focused on the bear. It was just me and the stuffed animal. The song is about a sad, poor little child in London dreaming of not sweeping floors and one day having toys. It may have been my finest performance of all time and it won me first place against the boys in my class doing comedy routines and other people being talented as well. We may have a rogue VHS of this somewhere.
My one regret is I told my dad it wasn't worth him coming and that he also made me more nervous, so he missed it. My voice teacher said she almost messed up on the piano because she was so entranced by me and this bear performing such a heart-wrenching song to perfection. That was my peak I think, my American Idol moment.
Other proud moments in my life? At 18, I once told off an old man at Burger King who insinuated I was stupid for not being fast at math, which has always been a struggle for me. I was working the register and it broke and to make sure I gave correct change I started writing it out and he went off on me. I approached him later and told him I hope he never spoke to anyone else who was waiting on him like that again and he should be ashamed of himself for being so rude to someone trying to do well at their job.
I had proud moments with the kids I was a nanny for when they excelled at things, which they did often and still do. I've had proud moments of watching some of my favorite people grow into the fabulous mothers and women they are. But I will completely admit that my proud moment of ushering my baby from womb to world was because I did it completely without drugs, after my own mother said I wouldn't be able to handle it. Take that mom!
To make it even better, when I was super dilated and we had to ask for a wheelchair to get me into the building from the car where Luna was almost born Ricky Bobby style, I was yelling a lot. It hurt! The nurses looked up from their charting and conversations all annoyed and said, "Is this your first baby, honey?" "Yeah," I muttered in pain. "Okay sweetie, just calm down and keep it down, you'll be fine." I could feel the she-dragon and if another contraction hadn't hit me so fast, I was moments away from yelling "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Less than 10 minutes later I was in a delivery room pushing, so I think I had a right to be a little loud.
My midwife said to me when I was screaming, "You need to push down and when you scream you push outward. Push down!" Getting my perfect daughter out in 3, bad ass, hardcore pushes, and then apparently making an intern faint, was a proud moment.
In motherhood, however, my proud moments have come from watching her with other people. It's not about walking and talking but her attitude that makes me proud. That kid perseveres just like her stubborn mother and when that happens, I get proud.
Last year she had a little boy in her after school program who kept hitting her in her crotch region and also put his hands on her throat once. I harnessed my mama bear and I said, "Baby, no one is allowed to touch you without your permission. And no one but mommy, daddy, grandma and a teacher helping you in the potty, goes near your private parts and still, you communicate with us when that happens. Now, we don't hit or hurt anyone, but if that boy is hurting you, and you need to get away, you get away from him and get help. Tell a teacher. You push him off of you and get to someone who can help. You don't let him hurt you!" She said "Okay mommy, I understand."
I was thankful it never came to that, but proud of her for telling adults what was happening and that she didn't like it. Most 4-year-old's might not. She now quotes the Aristocats often saying "Ladies do not start fights but we know how to finish them!" I do not disagree with her.
Overall though, I work on being proud of myself and I do this daily. We are our own worst critics aren't we? I get proud of myself when I get through a horrible day with no wine or no crying! I am proud of myself for working out consistently and finding ways to manage my anxiety. I'm proud of myself for knowing when to let people in and knowing when to just shut up. I'm proud of myself for not giving up when life has beaten me to a pulp but also not giving up on myself. And I'm excited for more and more most-proud moments, especially when you least expect them. We'll see if any are blog-worthy!
Thursday, August 23, 2018
Challenge 10: My First Celebrity Crush
So we are ten challenges in and I will admit I'm having a day that was set on me throwing me off from wanting to do this but, I don't want to miss out, except when I'm being lazy on weekends.
As I've recently discovered I am an "Elder Millennial." So I came about during a time where the 80's were in full swing but 70's stuff was still cool. My first celebrity crush was none other than DAVY JONES of The Monkees. I watched that show in syndication relentlessly, knew all the words to all the songs, and loved Davy Jones almost as much as Marcia Brady loved him. Ironically, I did not really watch The Brady Bunch, but I loved the Monkees. My dad had most of their albums on vinyl, which I have since procured and still listen to today.
Other celebrity crushes over the years included Zac Hanson (of course), various members of the Backstreet Boys but not *NSYNC. It is my humble opinion that Justin Timberlake's hotness was not fully formed until he went solo. As a 90's kid and Home Improvement fan, I loved Johnathan Taylor Thomas and from Full House, DJ's boyfriend Steve was dreamy as well.
I missed most of the teen heart-throb romance shows but I will say that even though it has been revealed that "Zack Morris is Trash," boy did I love Mark-Paul Gosselaar and wish that I was Kelly Kapowski. Slater was not for me and Screech? Really?
I would say I wasn't as obsessed with the mainstream boys the older I got. I had a thing for Topher Grace, not Ashton Kutcher. I had no attraction to anyone on Dawson's Creek. I was very, very in love with David Duchovny AKA Fox Mulder and the fact that Scully was a red-head just meant someday we would be together. I am actually still optimistic about that one.
But, I digress, my first, real celebrity crush was Davy Jones. I missed my only opportunity to see him live with the Monkees before he passed away about 9 years ago. I will forever regret not going into debt and calling out of work to see him on stage but clearly, in more ways than one, we were not meant to be together. I am still open to all my other crushes though, so feel free to pass along my information.
As I've recently discovered I am an "Elder Millennial." So I came about during a time where the 80's were in full swing but 70's stuff was still cool. My first celebrity crush was none other than DAVY JONES of The Monkees. I watched that show in syndication relentlessly, knew all the words to all the songs, and loved Davy Jones almost as much as Marcia Brady loved him. Ironically, I did not really watch The Brady Bunch, but I loved the Monkees. My dad had most of their albums on vinyl, which I have since procured and still listen to today.
Other celebrity crushes over the years included Zac Hanson (of course), various members of the Backstreet Boys but not *NSYNC. It is my humble opinion that Justin Timberlake's hotness was not fully formed until he went solo. As a 90's kid and Home Improvement fan, I loved Johnathan Taylor Thomas and from Full House, DJ's boyfriend Steve was dreamy as well.
I missed most of the teen heart-throb romance shows but I will say that even though it has been revealed that "Zack Morris is Trash," boy did I love Mark-Paul Gosselaar and wish that I was Kelly Kapowski. Slater was not for me and Screech? Really?
I would say I wasn't as obsessed with the mainstream boys the older I got. I had a thing for Topher Grace, not Ashton Kutcher. I had no attraction to anyone on Dawson's Creek. I was very, very in love with David Duchovny AKA Fox Mulder and the fact that Scully was a red-head just meant someday we would be together. I am actually still optimistic about that one.
But, I digress, my first, real celebrity crush was Davy Jones. I missed my only opportunity to see him live with the Monkees before he passed away about 9 years ago. I will forever regret not going into debt and calling out of work to see him on stage but clearly, in more ways than one, we were not meant to be together. I am still open to all my other crushes though, so feel free to pass along my information.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Challenge 9: Piercing and Tattoos? OH YES!
I got my nose pierced when I was 16, I think. Of course my mom gave me permission and they money. I loved it and I had a cute little stud. I actually liked the needle better than the guns they used on my ears. I promised myself tattoos when I turned 18.
I love them both as artistic expressions of yourself and permanent reminders of whatever you were feeling around their entrance onto your body. My first tattoo was something really ridiculous in Elvish...Lord of the Rings was THE SERIES when I was in High School okay? And yes I knew the nerds who could read and speak it. People speak Kling-on, don't judge!
Then I saved up and got an Orchid tramp stamp on my lower back. I literally got that back tattoo not a month before the "Tramp Stamp" phrase ran rampant across all cult classic movies and trendy comedies. I don't regret the gorgeous work, but the placement is boring and typical.
When I was 18, I also got a nose ring right next to my stud, like an actual hoop though. I rocked this look and miss it daily. When living in Eugene, Oregon for college, piercings are tantamount to spiritual growth.
When I was 19, my cousin's boyfriend was a piercer at my favorite piercing and tattoo shop. I wanted to get my eyebrow pierced, the one opposite the side of my nose that was pierced. He did it and it hurt like hell. He then said "wait, let me just see something for symmetry." I felt him put the dots on my second eyebrow. "No, I don't want two, I said. Ouch." He said, yeah but I just want to see because I think you could rock both with your nose piercings like you would look bad ass so let me just look."
SNAP! "Ow, motherfucker that hurt!," I cried! "See, symmetry?," He said. "They look awesome. No charge for the second one." I did rock them for about 6 months by my body physically rejected them and they wouldn't heal properly.
After age 20 I didn't do anything else until my thirties. I took out my piercings when I was 24 because we got married and then moved across the country well aware that no piercings would make the job hunt much easier. I dislike that a stud or ring in your nose or any kind of piercing or tattoo plays any part in judging your ability to do anything but it's the sad truth.
From 32 to 33 I got 3 tattoos after a traumatic car accident. The first one is meant to be a treble clef semicolon signifying the semicolon movement for suicide and depression awareness. The slogan for that movement is "My story isn't over yet," but even as a writer I have more of a musical obsession so I wanted it to signify "My song isn't finished playing yet." It is behind my ear.
Shortly after that one I covered my lower hip elvish tattoo with a favorite album cover and quote from my favorite band, with which I have NO SHAME and NO REGRET, judge if you must...Hanson...and it reads, "If you can't get through it, you can listen it it." That one hurt!
And my most recent is a small unalome, of which my best friend from 3rd grade and on got a matching one, on my side where my bra sits, and that is the symbol for the path to enlightenment. Both her and I have suffered some trauma so we thought it appropriate. I'm also constantly pinning ideas for new ones because I love ink! LOVE LOVE!
Tattoos are beautiful and very brave because they do welcome some stares and open you to questions. If you have many visible tattoos people do judge you because of them. I find that completely unfair and absolute bullshit but it is a fact of life.
I love how every tattoo has a story. I have some friends I love with Disney or Harry Potter tattoos and it's never just "Oh they like those characters," there is always some amazing story. And I love the people that are just brave enough to say I put this on my skin to remind me of this or because that moved or changed me. I love the connections we make over these artistic expressions. I think they keep us human. And anyone who willingly goes through that kind of pain is strong, not that people without tattoos are weak, but I think a different kind of strength draws others to body art.
You do only get one life and I respect and admire anyone who wants to color their lives accordingly! I can't wait to collect more works of art on my body!
I love them both as artistic expressions of yourself and permanent reminders of whatever you were feeling around their entrance onto your body. My first tattoo was something really ridiculous in Elvish...Lord of the Rings was THE SERIES when I was in High School okay? And yes I knew the nerds who could read and speak it. People speak Kling-on, don't judge!
Then I saved up and got an Orchid tramp stamp on my lower back. I literally got that back tattoo not a month before the "Tramp Stamp" phrase ran rampant across all cult classic movies and trendy comedies. I don't regret the gorgeous work, but the placement is boring and typical.
When I was 18, I also got a nose ring right next to my stud, like an actual hoop though. I rocked this look and miss it daily. When living in Eugene, Oregon for college, piercings are tantamount to spiritual growth.
When I was 19, my cousin's boyfriend was a piercer at my favorite piercing and tattoo shop. I wanted to get my eyebrow pierced, the one opposite the side of my nose that was pierced. He did it and it hurt like hell. He then said "wait, let me just see something for symmetry." I felt him put the dots on my second eyebrow. "No, I don't want two, I said. Ouch." He said, yeah but I just want to see because I think you could rock both with your nose piercings like you would look bad ass so let me just look."
SNAP! "Ow, motherfucker that hurt!," I cried! "See, symmetry?," He said. "They look awesome. No charge for the second one." I did rock them for about 6 months by my body physically rejected them and they wouldn't heal properly.
After age 20 I didn't do anything else until my thirties. I took out my piercings when I was 24 because we got married and then moved across the country well aware that no piercings would make the job hunt much easier. I dislike that a stud or ring in your nose or any kind of piercing or tattoo plays any part in judging your ability to do anything but it's the sad truth.
From 32 to 33 I got 3 tattoos after a traumatic car accident. The first one is meant to be a treble clef semicolon signifying the semicolon movement for suicide and depression awareness. The slogan for that movement is "My story isn't over yet," but even as a writer I have more of a musical obsession so I wanted it to signify "My song isn't finished playing yet." It is behind my ear.
Shortly after that one I covered my lower hip elvish tattoo with a favorite album cover and quote from my favorite band, with which I have NO SHAME and NO REGRET, judge if you must...Hanson...and it reads, "If you can't get through it, you can listen it it." That one hurt!
And my most recent is a small unalome, of which my best friend from 3rd grade and on got a matching one, on my side where my bra sits, and that is the symbol for the path to enlightenment. Both her and I have suffered some trauma so we thought it appropriate. I'm also constantly pinning ideas for new ones because I love ink! LOVE LOVE!
Tattoos are beautiful and very brave because they do welcome some stares and open you to questions. If you have many visible tattoos people do judge you because of them. I find that completely unfair and absolute bullshit but it is a fact of life.
I love how every tattoo has a story. I have some friends I love with Disney or Harry Potter tattoos and it's never just "Oh they like those characters," there is always some amazing story. And I love the people that are just brave enough to say I put this on my skin to remind me of this or because that moved or changed me. I love the connections we make over these artistic expressions. I think they keep us human. And anyone who willingly goes through that kind of pain is strong, not that people without tattoos are weak, but I think a different kind of strength draws others to body art.
You do only get one life and I respect and admire anyone who wants to color their lives accordingly! I can't wait to collect more works of art on my body!
Challenge 8 - Old Photo of Me...Nope and This Is Why
I truly feel like you cannot accurately post a pre-smart phone picture anymore without it just looking so damn old. I just feel like when you take a picture of the picture to post to social media, they all look like those old photos from the 50's you used to find in your attic that you judged.
I don't need anything else to remind me that motherhood has aged me. So, I don't want to post an old photo and it also blows my mind that my 5-year-old's entire existence has been captured via Facebook and Instagram and on top of that, mostly hangs out in some cloud that we just trust to hold our shit! Like has anyone ever really looked into the Google Drive and backup stuff? You log in and you can find it but what if some technological apocalyptic crash happens -- spur new wave of scary films -- and you didn't print REAL copies of your 40,000 pictures of food, your children, and your selfies that you have 20 each of to get the one RIGHT one that looked "effortless?"
It's so weird to think that we have this miniature computers that just rule our worlds. We all pretend that they don't but the ability to be able to capture any moment at any time without being like..."wait I need to grab my camera!," is still pretty amazing when you think about it. It can get creepy if you think about the logistics too much, but mostly it is awesome.
And I also think that while nostalgia is so awesome, looking at old photos to remember "the good times" can get daunting. I feel like it's forced memories sometimes. Every so often a trip down memory lane is good but you can't live there. It's not a good idea.
So there you have it, another little chapter completed but today I'm doing a total of two updates because I'm more excited about the next one! Stay tuned!
I don't need anything else to remind me that motherhood has aged me. So, I don't want to post an old photo and it also blows my mind that my 5-year-old's entire existence has been captured via Facebook and Instagram and on top of that, mostly hangs out in some cloud that we just trust to hold our shit! Like has anyone ever really looked into the Google Drive and backup stuff? You log in and you can find it but what if some technological apocalyptic crash happens -- spur new wave of scary films -- and you didn't print REAL copies of your 40,000 pictures of food, your children, and your selfies that you have 20 each of to get the one RIGHT one that looked "effortless?"
It's so weird to think that we have this miniature computers that just rule our worlds. We all pretend that they don't but the ability to be able to capture any moment at any time without being like..."wait I need to grab my camera!," is still pretty amazing when you think about it. It can get creepy if you think about the logistics too much, but mostly it is awesome.
And I also think that while nostalgia is so awesome, looking at old photos to remember "the good times" can get daunting. I feel like it's forced memories sometimes. Every so often a trip down memory lane is good but you can't live there. It's not a good idea.
So there you have it, another little chapter completed but today I'm doing a total of two updates because I'm more excited about the next one! Stay tuned!
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Blog Challenge Day 7: 10 Favorite Foods
As if this didn't feel narcissistic enough, although a good writing practice, now let's talk about what I like to eat!
My number one favorite food is: SALAD, not lying. I love salads. They are easy to put together and super good for you.
2. Tacos. Tacos are life. Ironically, tacos were the thing I had right before I was violently ill from appendicitis but I took a break and then came back with a vengeance!
3. Pizza, but I'm picky. The chef hubby makes the best homemade so I get a little snobby. And I don't care what anyone says, if you can't make a good cheese pizza you can't make a pizza period.
4. Coconut things: Coconut cake, cookies, coconut water, candies, coconut milk, protein bars. ALL THE COCONUT THINGS.
5. Sushi! Sushi is my favorite meal out. So frigging delicious! Although I only like the rolls, the raw fish on rice with no other flavor is a bit intense.
6. Ice Cream Cake. Preferably Carvel. The chocolate crumblies in the middle are what make it worth being a thicker person. I hate sharing my birthday cake. It's my day!
7. Steak. When I was pregnant, all I wanted was steak and potatoes. Seriously just meat and taters. Steak, when cooked properly, is the reason why we eat meat.
8. And also Bacon, of course, which makes everything better. This might technically be like a number 2 or 4 swap but bacon is life also. The reason I cannot be a vegetarian is BACON. I even enjoy some tofu dishes but bacon just is amazing. Always!
9. Grandma UTZ Potato chips. Have you ever had these? Best chips on the planet. Pretty sure you could make a candle from the lard dripping if you held it by the fire but the salt and deliciousness, oh my goodness!
10. Twizzlers. I am not a red vine person. Twizzlers. This I got from my mother.
I do consider myself a foodie. I will try just about anything. I'm not a fan of duck or lamb as I find those animal to precious to consume. I also don't like anything too gamey but had Elk burgers once that were to die for. I have had fancy stuff and love the atmosphere of certain places to try new things or pay for an insanely amazing meal but I can also take down a cheesy Gordita crunch with the best of them at Taco Bell. And for any hangover, I require a sausage McMuffin. Food makes life more flavorful, which is why I work out a lot.
My number one favorite food is: SALAD, not lying. I love salads. They are easy to put together and super good for you.
2. Tacos. Tacos are life. Ironically, tacos were the thing I had right before I was violently ill from appendicitis but I took a break and then came back with a vengeance!
3. Pizza, but I'm picky. The chef hubby makes the best homemade so I get a little snobby. And I don't care what anyone says, if you can't make a good cheese pizza you can't make a pizza period.
4. Coconut things: Coconut cake, cookies, coconut water, candies, coconut milk, protein bars. ALL THE COCONUT THINGS.
5. Sushi! Sushi is my favorite meal out. So frigging delicious! Although I only like the rolls, the raw fish on rice with no other flavor is a bit intense.
6. Ice Cream Cake. Preferably Carvel. The chocolate crumblies in the middle are what make it worth being a thicker person. I hate sharing my birthday cake. It's my day!
7. Steak. When I was pregnant, all I wanted was steak and potatoes. Seriously just meat and taters. Steak, when cooked properly, is the reason why we eat meat.
8. And also Bacon, of course, which makes everything better. This might technically be like a number 2 or 4 swap but bacon is life also. The reason I cannot be a vegetarian is BACON. I even enjoy some tofu dishes but bacon just is amazing. Always!
9. Grandma UTZ Potato chips. Have you ever had these? Best chips on the planet. Pretty sure you could make a candle from the lard dripping if you held it by the fire but the salt and deliciousness, oh my goodness!
10. Twizzlers. I am not a red vine person. Twizzlers. This I got from my mother.
I do consider myself a foodie. I will try just about anything. I'm not a fan of duck or lamb as I find those animal to precious to consume. I also don't like anything too gamey but had Elk burgers once that were to die for. I have had fancy stuff and love the atmosphere of certain places to try new things or pay for an insanely amazing meal but I can also take down a cheesy Gordita crunch with the best of them at Taco Bell. And for any hangover, I require a sausage McMuffin. Food makes life more flavorful, which is why I work out a lot.
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