Every situation has a phrase.
A phrase that I think about that helps put things in perspective.
Maybe it was something I learned from my mother when I was growing up.
Maybe it was something I was told by someone else.
Maybe it's something I read somewhere.
Regardless, these quotes, motto's, sayings, phrases....... they always seem to help me out when I'm presented with different situations.
Here are a few of my "go-to's"
1. "This too shall pass"
2. "Never work harder than your students"
3. "Its only money"
4. "They wont be little forever"
5. "Everyone has their own story" or "Everyone is fighting their own battle"
6. 'Treat others the way you want to be treated"
7. "People will forget what you did. People will forget what you said. But they will never forget how you made them feel"
8. "True character is what you do when no one is looking"
9. "We are in no hurry"
10. "Life. You get one"
11. "Actions speak louder than words"
12. "There is no 'I' in team"
13. "Choose your battles"
14. "If you wanna be somebody. If you wanna go somewhere. You gotta wake up and pay attention."
15. "Wanna make God laugh? Tell him your plans."
16. "I can do all things through God, who strengthens me."
17. "Everything happens for a reason"
18. "Life is short."
19. "Your children are always watching"
20. "Don't eat lunch in the teachers lounge"
21. "Kill 'em with kindness"
22. "It is what it is"
23. "Go with your gut"
24. "A mother always knows"
25. "I love you more"
26. "The end is only the beginning. People just don't know it at the time"
27. "Strangers are just family you have yet to meet"
28. "You can do anything for a year"
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Mile Marker.
I completed my 3rd half marathon last weekend.
I'm still recovering.
I didn't train.... at all.,... and that is defiantly in the "TOP 3 stupidest things I've ever done in my life" list!
(the other 2 things involve a tarzan rope, country concert, and a hammer.)
One of the best lessons I learned from completing this half marathon is this:
My body is so pissed at me right now and I don't blame it. I put it through hell and back.
Around mile 9 I started to re-consider even attempting the half marathon..... but then realized that option had already come and gone and here I was out in the middle of a corn field surrounded road, staring at road kill up close and personal.
A rabbit? Maybe.
My left foot started hurting around mile 2, but that was because my sock had scooted down a bit and the back of my shoe was rubbing against my Akeley's tendon.
I put up with it for a few more miles and then I eventually just stopped dead in my tracks, yanked my sock up, rolled my eyes, and continued on my merry way...... what a waste of 30 seconds.
Sidenote: waiting until mile 5 to pull up my sock was really dumb. Now I've got an annoying broken blister that hurts anytime something touches it. Water, a sock, a shoe, a dog's lick, a toddler's finger, air.... Anyway- it could have been prevented. Moving on...
Other than my sock issue, I felt good. I started off with a 5 min warm up and after that I started into the interval I thought would be an easy, leisurely pace.... 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk.... for 13.1 miles.
Let me back up and talk about my 5 minute warm up just for a second...
I ALWAYS start with a warm up.
Always.
It's hard to keep your composure when literally EVERYONE starts off in a dead sprint as soon as the gun fires. It's so dang intimidating! It's almost like the Black Friday rush, but not as bad. Any race that I'm in... 5K, 10K, half marathon..... they always start the same. Everyone bolting and leaving a cloud of dust behind them.
And then there is me.
I take the slow and steady mindset. I like to start out walking. Yeah, I may be behind in the beginning.... or dead last... but as soon as my warm up is over, I start into my running interval and that's when I breeze past all the others who decided to sprint the first 1/2 mile.
Suckers.
Anyway, there is always "the guy".
"The guy" at the beginning of EVERY RACE I've ever participated in.
"The guy" who is not running, but is on the outside of the race barriers, watching.
"The guy" who always has a smartass comment. THE EXACT SAME smartass comment everytime.
"The guy" who says this.....
I wish you could hear the tone in which I hear "this guy's" voice in my head. You are going to have to be creative and make up one for yourself.
It reminds me of the looney toon character that says, "Duhhhhhh which way did he go, George? Which way did he go?"
Dumbass.
Eventually, I started hurting. I felt good stamina wise, but my legs started getting stiff and my muscles started tightening up. At mile 9.
So, long story short, after the pain set in and I finally came to the conclusion that I should have trained..... I just tried my best to stay on my interval and "just keep swimming" as Dorie would say.
There were a fewhundred times when a loud, booming curse word would burst into my thought process and interrupt whatever pleasant thought I was trying to have at the time, but aside from that.... I made it through.
How did I manage to make it?
I played a little game.....
Starting at mile marker 9 I needed to take my mind off my misery and I needed to stop thinking about how much worse it was gonna get.... I needed to move away from suicidal thoughts and move more towards something positive.
I told myself that at every mile marker, I was gonna focus my thoughts on (1) thing.
(1) person.
(1) place.
(1) event,
I was running about a 13 min mile at this point (don't judge), so I promised myself that for the next (4) miles I was gonna focus on only (4) specific topics.
Mile marker 9 topic: DAD
Always an easy topic to think about.
I started recalling memories from the Lake and family beach trips to Daytona . I started to think about how he looked, when he would sit and wait for my mom, sister and I to finish shopping, at the hot dog stand in the Lima Mall reading a book. How he smelled (eternity for men), the sound of his laugh, how soft his hair always was in the back, how he loved his Dt. Pepsi caffeine free, and the sound of his walk.
I started to think.... "What he would he think if he saw me participating in a half marathon?"
From a Dr.'s point of view, he always hated the sport of running and always said it was "the worst thing someone could do to their body",
but aside from that... I was wondering if he MIGHT be proud of me..... or if he would just laugh at me and shake his head.
While in the middle of mile 9, Allen Jackson and Jimmy Buffett, "Margaritaville", came on Pandora.
My dad loved Jimmy Buffett.
I thought that was cool.
As I was recalling specific memories of Dad, trying to keep my mind off the constant screaming of profanities that my body was shouting at me, I saw something......
An old man. Heavy set. White hair and glasses. A big belly with suspenders. A walker.
He was standing all by himself. No other on-lookers around. No other runner's family members around cheering them on. He was literally standing by himself.
As I skated past him, I thought in the back of my mind how he "kinda" resembled Dad. Not exactly... but a little.
The belly.
The glasses.
The walker (Dad had a wheelchair).
Dad didn't have white hair, but I bet if he was still alive today his hair would be close to all gray.
Then the old man gave me a "thumbs up" sign.
And nooded his head.
And gave me a slight smile.
My dad wasn't a big "thumbs up" guy...... but for some reason I feel that this old man was answering the question that I had running through my head at that time.... "Would Dad be proud of me?"
I think maybe.
Mile marker 10 topic: Memories that always make me LOL
There are those moments that ALWAYS make me start giggling to myself or make me laugh out loud whenever I think about them. These are my "go to" memories always guaranteed to give me a chuckle or full blown burst of laughter!
1. Remembering the time my friend, Katie, rode her bike into a tree.
2. A student saying "shut up, dirtbag" and me telling my sister about how the word
"dirtbag" is so weird and how we laughed so hard for hours!
3. When my mom tried to turn the car around.....in the garage....with the garage doors down. Hilar.
4. When my sister -in-law and I were at TJ Maxx and she was going to buy a new winter coat. She ripped the tags off and couldn't wait to put it on! She did all this BEFORE the cashier told her that her debit card was not working....and she had to take the coat off and hand it back. I died. So funny.
5. That United Healthcare commercial where the couple is dancing to "The Time of my Life" from Dirty Dancing. Watch it HERE if you haven't seen it. You will die.
6. When Toby and I were lost in SC and were looking at an OHIO map for about 15 minutes to try to find our way around.
7. When my mom accidently took the gas pedal for the break and took us for a .4 second joy ride, darting down the driveway, going from 0 to 20mph, finally coming to a jerking hault. I'll never forget the look on her face, the look on my sister's face as she watched us pull a Jeff Gordan type maneuver in the driveway, and how hard mom and I laughed. Oh, and the black tire marks on the driveway, evidence of a near death experience.
8. When my friend, Angie, referred to my friend, Jayme's, vagina as "bat wings".
9. When my college roommate, Melanie, and I were honestly terrified when a giant cricket was walking across our family room carpet. I can still see her perched atop the couch with a pillow above her head and I can still feel the unbalance that I experienced while trying to stand on both arms of a rocking recliner.
10. When my friend, Maria, tried to kick her leg up in the air in order to get a small stretch in, while running in a half marathon. Her leg went about 3 millimeters in the air.
11. When my friend, Laurie, was running on the beach at night, trying to catch up with me and a few other girls, and face planted in the sand.
12. When I fell off my sister's bunk bed ladder in her dorm room and (almost) became paralyzed. (ok... twisted my ankle, but it hurt like a mother!)
13. When my mom said the word "Wombat"
14. When my 8th grade students were were all silent reading and the room was waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too quiet and in a moment of insanity I screamed at the top of my lungs, "OHMYGOD! IT'S GEORGE CLOONEY!!" Their reaction = priceless.
15. The vision of my friend, Kerri, holding an umbrella that had been blown inside out, in the middle of a rainstorm, in Magic Kingdom.
16. The story my friend, Kris, told at lunch one day about how she was taking her son for a stroller ride and it suddenly started to down pour, so she hauled ass, pushing the stroller home, as fast as she could.... until she hit a crack in the sidewalk. The speeding stroller came to an abrupt stop, flipping over, catapulting her son, and landing upside down. Then her son said, "Mom!! I'm stuck!"
17. The night I waxed Toby's back with an at-home wax kit.
18. The night I attempted to use (of all things) nail polish remover to remove excess wax from Toby's back from an at-home wax kit.
19. When we were at my aunts house for a lunch, right after my Dad had died, and my sister's paper plate broke in half and all her food slopped to the floor. After all we had been through with Dad's death.... she whimpered a little bit, almost broke down crying, and instead we broke out in hilarious laughter.
Mile marker 11 topic: My mother-in-law
I initially was going to think about about Leo and Cece waiting for me at the finish line for this mile. I am always sooooo excited to see them whenever I finish a race. The excitement they show could put a smile on Wilford Brimley's face.
But then my mind started to wander to how it was even possible that Leo and Cece were there, at the finish line, to see me finish. How they got there.....
It's because of my mother-in-law.
Becky.
She makes sure that my kids are waiting for me at the finish line.
She also makes sure that she is waiting for me at the finish line.
She wouldn't miss it. This I know. Even if we didn't have kids..... I am confidant that she would still be there... waiting at the finish line..... arms flailing on the air so I can pick her out of the crowd..... waiting to hug me even though I smell terrible. (I swear I put on deodorant!)
She's amazing. I have never been more honest when I say, "I don't know what I'd do without her". The help she gives me with the kids, laundry, housework, dinner.... is all unbelievable, so much appreciated, and done out of the kindness of her heart (and her slight obsession with cleaning :) )
But besides that, she has become one of my best friends.
We eat dinner together, we shop together, we vacation together.
Whenever I want to do something I know that she will be my side-kick.
Shop, eat, see a movie, take the kids to the zoo, try a new diet, experiment with new foods, make green smoothies, a Pintrest craft, make up a new hip-hop dance to "Pump Up The Jam" in the middle of the living room... whatever it may be, I know Becky will always join me.
She supports me when I need it most, listens to me when I vent or ask questions, laughs with me at stupid things people do, and cries with me on the rare occasion when my anti-depressants allow me to show any type of emotion.
She was my business partner when I started my jewelry business. She watched and listened to me rehearse my "show" over and over again.
She even went with me to my first few shows to help me set up and simply because I asked her to.
She is never sick. Never tired. Never unwilling.
She lets Leo and Cece call her "moe moe" even though she hates that title.
She (without a doubt) will wash every single item of dirty cloths in my house ANYTIME she is present. NEVER is my hamper full when I get home after Becky has been at my house.
The kids toy room is always picked up and organized and the basement is too. Why? Not because I keep up with it. Because of Becky.
She helped me plant my first garden.
She helped me get started subbing for Mercer Co. Schools when we first moved back to Celina.
She helped find Leo and Cece their daycare.
And she introduced me to making mashed sweet potatoes in the microwave. (she knew people... "wink and gun" )
I love her. I rely on her. I need her.
What a blessing she is. And how lucky am I?
Mile marker 12 and 13 (both kinda a blur) topic: My reward
At this point my body hated me. I was being called every name in the book and I deserved every one.
Who runs 13 miles.....suddenly?
Without practice.
Without preparation.
Without the proper mindset.
Me. I do. This jughead.
What was I thinking?!?!
My calves were both on the verge of exploding into Charlie horses. My back was stiff. I had blisters forming on the bottom of my toes that I could feel with every step. My armpits were beginning to burn from the constant pumping of my arms against my sports bra. My hands were so swollen and my wedding ring was tight.
What got me through? What kept my spirits up and wouldn't allow me to decide not to fake passing out in order to get a ride up to the finish line?
A cold beer.
A Miller Light.
That was what I was thinking about.
Toby, the kids, and I were going to a get together later that evening at a friends house. A "post marathon" celebration. I was really looking forward to it for many reasons. It was the first time in a long time that Toby was able to join the kids and I in anything remotely fun. It was also the first time in a long time Toby and I were able to hang out together. I was anxious to hear how everyone did in the race and I was excited to meet new people that I knew would be there. There was also going to be pizza.
I contemplated if I wanted to drink Miller Light, wine, summer shanty, or straight rubbing alcohol.
Wine would normally be my drink of choice......cabernet savington blanc..... but at this moment, drinking a dry, blood colored, warm drink was not what I desired.
I'm normally not a beer person, but this time was different. I wasn't in my right mind.
So I endured. I continued on. I focused and concentrated on each step, I kept my feet moving because God forbid I stop (even for a second) I guarantee I wont be able to pick my feet up again.
I found it ironic that at this point I was running past a cemetery..... .
As I approached the finish line, the cold Miller Light was still on my mind.... until I saw them.
Moe-Moe
Leo
Cece
Standing there off to the left, waiting.
I immediately started flailing my arms and soon Moe-Moe returned the wave.
She got the kids attention, bent down and pointed toward me, and then I heard their squeals!
MOMMY!!!!
Cece so excited, her voice belting out the high pitched scream only Cece can produce.
They both came running toward me as fast as their toddler legs could go, Leo zipping past Cece, almost knocking her over, and seconds away from starting a fight....... and continued to run along side me until I crossed the finish line.
Finally. I could stop.
I felt 4 little hands wrap around my legs.
Leo asked me "Mommy, Did you win?"
To which I replied, "YES! I WON!"
and later that night, that beer tasted really good.
I'm still recovering.
I didn't train.... at all.,... and that is defiantly in the "TOP 3 stupidest things I've ever done in my life" list!
(the other 2 things involve a tarzan rope, country concert, and a hammer.)
One of the best lessons I learned from completing this half marathon is this:
"Always train for a half marathon."
Profound, I know.
My body is so pissed at me right now and I don't blame it. I put it through hell and back.
Around mile 9 I started to re-consider even attempting the half marathon..... but then realized that option had already come and gone and here I was out in the middle of a corn field surrounded road, staring at road kill up close and personal.
A rabbit? Maybe.
My left foot started hurting around mile 2, but that was because my sock had scooted down a bit and the back of my shoe was rubbing against my Akeley's tendon.
I put up with it for a few more miles and then I eventually just stopped dead in my tracks, yanked my sock up, rolled my eyes, and continued on my merry way...... what a waste of 30 seconds.
Sidenote: waiting until mile 5 to pull up my sock was really dumb. Now I've got an annoying broken blister that hurts anytime something touches it. Water, a sock, a shoe, a dog's lick, a toddler's finger, air.... Anyway- it could have been prevented. Moving on...
Other than my sock issue, I felt good. I started off with a 5 min warm up and after that I started into the interval I thought would be an easy, leisurely pace.... 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk.... for 13.1 miles.
Let me back up and talk about my 5 minute warm up just for a second...
I ALWAYS start with a warm up.
Always.
It's hard to keep your composure when literally EVERYONE starts off in a dead sprint as soon as the gun fires. It's so dang intimidating! It's almost like the Black Friday rush, but not as bad. Any race that I'm in... 5K, 10K, half marathon..... they always start the same. Everyone bolting and leaving a cloud of dust behind them.
And then there is me.
I take the slow and steady mindset. I like to start out walking. Yeah, I may be behind in the beginning.... or dead last... but as soon as my warm up is over, I start into my running interval and that's when I breeze past all the others who decided to sprint the first 1/2 mile.
Suckers.
Anyway, there is always "the guy".
"The guy" at the beginning of EVERY RACE I've ever participated in.
"The guy" who is not running, but is on the outside of the race barriers, watching.
"The guy" who always has a smartass comment. THE EXACT SAME smartass comment everytime.
"The guy" who says this.....
"You're walking already?!?! haha"
It reminds me of the looney toon character that says, "Duhhhhhh which way did he go, George? Which way did he go?"
Dumbass.
Eventually, I started hurting. I felt good stamina wise, but my legs started getting stiff and my muscles started tightening up. At mile 9.
So, long story short, after the pain set in and I finally came to the conclusion that I should have trained..... I just tried my best to stay on my interval and "just keep swimming" as Dorie would say.
There were a few
How did I manage to make it?
I played a little game.....
Starting at mile marker 9 I needed to take my mind off my misery and I needed to stop thinking about how much worse it was gonna get.... I needed to move away from suicidal thoughts and move more towards something positive.
I told myself that at every mile marker, I was gonna focus my thoughts on (1) thing.
(1) person.
(1) place.
(1) event,
I was running about a 13 min mile at this point (don't judge), so I promised myself that for the next (4) miles I was gonna focus on only (4) specific topics.
Mile marker 9 topic: DAD
Always an easy topic to think about.
I started recalling memories from the Lake and family beach trips to Daytona . I started to think about how he looked, when he would sit and wait for my mom, sister and I to finish shopping, at the hot dog stand in the Lima Mall reading a book. How he smelled (eternity for men), the sound of his laugh, how soft his hair always was in the back, how he loved his Dt. Pepsi caffeine free, and the sound of his walk.
I started to think.... "What he would he think if he saw me participating in a half marathon?"
From a Dr.'s point of view, he always hated the sport of running and always said it was "the worst thing someone could do to their body",
but aside from that... I was wondering if he MIGHT be proud of me..... or if he would just laugh at me and shake his head.
While in the middle of mile 9, Allen Jackson and Jimmy Buffett, "Margaritaville", came on Pandora.
My dad loved Jimmy Buffett.
I thought that was cool.
As I was recalling specific memories of Dad, trying to keep my mind off the constant screaming of profanities that my body was shouting at me, I saw something......
An old man. Heavy set. White hair and glasses. A big belly with suspenders. A walker.
He was standing all by himself. No other on-lookers around. No other runner's family members around cheering them on. He was literally standing by himself.
As I skated past him, I thought in the back of my mind how he "kinda" resembled Dad. Not exactly... but a little.
The belly.
The glasses.
The walker (Dad had a wheelchair).
Dad didn't have white hair, but I bet if he was still alive today his hair would be close to all gray.
Then the old man gave me a "thumbs up" sign.
And nooded his head.
And gave me a slight smile.
My dad wasn't a big "thumbs up" guy...... but for some reason I feel that this old man was answering the question that I had running through my head at that time.... "Would Dad be proud of me?"
I think maybe.
Mile marker 10 topic: Memories that always make me LOL
There are those moments that ALWAYS make me start giggling to myself or make me laugh out loud whenever I think about them. These are my "go to" memories always guaranteed to give me a chuckle or full blown burst of laughter!
1. Remembering the time my friend, Katie, rode her bike into a tree.
2. A student saying "shut up, dirtbag" and me telling my sister about how the word
"dirtbag" is so weird and how we laughed so hard for hours!
3. When my mom tried to turn the car around.....in the garage....with the garage doors down. Hilar.
4. When my sister -in-law and I were at TJ Maxx and she was going to buy a new winter coat. She ripped the tags off and couldn't wait to put it on! She did all this BEFORE the cashier told her that her debit card was not working....and she had to take the coat off and hand it back. I died. So funny.
5. That United Healthcare commercial where the couple is dancing to "The Time of my Life" from Dirty Dancing. Watch it HERE if you haven't seen it. You will die.
6. When Toby and I were lost in SC and were looking at an OHIO map for about 15 minutes to try to find our way around.
7. When my mom accidently took the gas pedal for the break and took us for a .4 second joy ride, darting down the driveway, going from 0 to 20mph, finally coming to a jerking hault. I'll never forget the look on her face, the look on my sister's face as she watched us pull a Jeff Gordan type maneuver in the driveway, and how hard mom and I laughed. Oh, and the black tire marks on the driveway, evidence of a near death experience.
8. When my friend, Angie, referred to my friend, Jayme's, vagina as "bat wings".
9. When my college roommate, Melanie, and I were honestly terrified when a giant cricket was walking across our family room carpet. I can still see her perched atop the couch with a pillow above her head and I can still feel the unbalance that I experienced while trying to stand on both arms of a rocking recliner.
10. When my friend, Maria, tried to kick her leg up in the air in order to get a small stretch in, while running in a half marathon. Her leg went about 3 millimeters in the air.
11. When my friend, Laurie, was running on the beach at night, trying to catch up with me and a few other girls, and face planted in the sand.
12. When I fell off my sister's bunk bed ladder in her dorm room and (almost) became paralyzed. (ok... twisted my ankle, but it hurt like a mother!)
13. When my mom said the word "Wombat"
14. When my 8th grade students were were all silent reading and the room was waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too quiet and in a moment of insanity I screamed at the top of my lungs, "OHMYGOD! IT'S GEORGE CLOONEY!!" Their reaction = priceless.
15. The vision of my friend, Kerri, holding an umbrella that had been blown inside out, in the middle of a rainstorm, in Magic Kingdom.
16. The story my friend, Kris, told at lunch one day about how she was taking her son for a stroller ride and it suddenly started to down pour, so she hauled ass, pushing the stroller home, as fast as she could.... until she hit a crack in the sidewalk. The speeding stroller came to an abrupt stop, flipping over, catapulting her son, and landing upside down. Then her son said, "Mom!! I'm stuck!"
17. The night I waxed Toby's back with an at-home wax kit.
18. The night I attempted to use (of all things) nail polish remover to remove excess wax from Toby's back from an at-home wax kit.
19. When we were at my aunts house for a lunch, right after my Dad had died, and my sister's paper plate broke in half and all her food slopped to the floor. After all we had been through with Dad's death.... she whimpered a little bit, almost broke down crying, and instead we broke out in hilarious laughter.
Mile marker 11 topic: My mother-in-law
I initially was going to think about about Leo and Cece waiting for me at the finish line for this mile. I am always sooooo excited to see them whenever I finish a race. The excitement they show could put a smile on Wilford Brimley's face.
But then my mind started to wander to how it was even possible that Leo and Cece were there, at the finish line, to see me finish. How they got there.....
It's because of my mother-in-law.
Becky.
She makes sure that my kids are waiting for me at the finish line.
She also makes sure that she is waiting for me at the finish line.
She wouldn't miss it. This I know. Even if we didn't have kids..... I am confidant that she would still be there... waiting at the finish line..... arms flailing on the air so I can pick her out of the crowd..... waiting to hug me even though I smell terrible. (I swear I put on deodorant!)
She's amazing. I have never been more honest when I say, "I don't know what I'd do without her". The help she gives me with the kids, laundry, housework, dinner.... is all unbelievable, so much appreciated, and done out of the kindness of her heart (and her slight obsession with cleaning :) )
But besides that, she has become one of my best friends.
We eat dinner together, we shop together, we vacation together.
Whenever I want to do something I know that she will be my side-kick.
Shop, eat, see a movie, take the kids to the zoo, try a new diet, experiment with new foods, make green smoothies, a Pintrest craft, make up a new hip-hop dance to "Pump Up The Jam" in the middle of the living room... whatever it may be, I know Becky will always join me.
She supports me when I need it most, listens to me when I vent or ask questions, laughs with me at stupid things people do, and cries with me on the rare occasion when my anti-depressants allow me to show any type of emotion.
She was my business partner when I started my jewelry business. She watched and listened to me rehearse my "show" over and over again.
She even went with me to my first few shows to help me set up and simply because I asked her to.
She is never sick. Never tired. Never unwilling.
She lets Leo and Cece call her "moe moe" even though she hates that title.
She (without a doubt) will wash every single item of dirty cloths in my house ANYTIME she is present. NEVER is my hamper full when I get home after Becky has been at my house.
The kids toy room is always picked up and organized and the basement is too. Why? Not because I keep up with it. Because of Becky.
She helped me plant my first garden.
She helped me get started subbing for Mercer Co. Schools when we first moved back to Celina.
She helped find Leo and Cece their daycare.
And she introduced me to making mashed sweet potatoes in the microwave. (she knew people... "wink and gun" )
I love her. I rely on her. I need her.
What a blessing she is. And how lucky am I?
Mile marker 12 and 13 (both kinda a blur) topic: My reward
At this point my body hated me. I was being called every name in the book and I deserved every one.
Who runs 13 miles.....suddenly?
Without practice.
Without preparation.
Without the proper mindset.
Me. I do. This jughead.
What was I thinking?!?!
My calves were both on the verge of exploding into Charlie horses. My back was stiff. I had blisters forming on the bottom of my toes that I could feel with every step. My armpits were beginning to burn from the constant pumping of my arms against my sports bra. My hands were so swollen and my wedding ring was tight.
What got me through? What kept my spirits up and wouldn't allow me to decide not to fake passing out in order to get a ride up to the finish line?
A cold beer.
A Miller Light.
That was what I was thinking about.
Toby, the kids, and I were going to a get together later that evening at a friends house. A "post marathon" celebration. I was really looking forward to it for many reasons. It was the first time in a long time that Toby was able to join the kids and I in anything remotely fun. It was also the first time in a long time Toby and I were able to hang out together. I was anxious to hear how everyone did in the race and I was excited to meet new people that I knew would be there. There was also going to be pizza.
I contemplated if I wanted to drink Miller Light, wine, summer shanty, or straight rubbing alcohol.
Wine would normally be my drink of choice......cabernet savington blanc..... but at this moment, drinking a dry, blood colored, warm drink was not what I desired.
I'm normally not a beer person, but this time was different. I wasn't in my right mind.
So I endured. I continued on. I focused and concentrated on each step, I kept my feet moving because God forbid I stop (even for a second) I guarantee I wont be able to pick my feet up again.
I found it ironic that at this point I was running past a cemetery..... .
As I approached the finish line, the cold Miller Light was still on my mind.... until I saw them.
Moe-Moe
Leo
Cece
Standing there off to the left, waiting.
I immediately started flailing my arms and soon Moe-Moe returned the wave.
She got the kids attention, bent down and pointed toward me, and then I heard their squeals!
MOMMY!!!!
Cece so excited, her voice belting out the high pitched scream only Cece can produce.
They both came running toward me as fast as their toddler legs could go, Leo zipping past Cece, almost knocking her over, and seconds away from starting a fight....... and continued to run along side me until I crossed the finish line.
Finally. I could stop.
I felt 4 little hands wrap around my legs.
Leo asked me "Mommy, Did you win?"
To which I replied, "YES! I WON!"
and later that night, that beer tasted really good.
Friday, September 25, 2015
1/2 Marathon #3.
I'm participating in my 3rd Half Marathon on Saturday.
The Grand Lake Marathon, which is held in Celina.
I participated in this race last year and loved it! It was a beautiful course and the time of the year is perfect! What I loved the most about this race was that at every mile, there were "cheer groups". Local business could purchase a mile marker and set up a station to help cheer on the participants! I loved it! Every mile I was looking forward to seeing what business would be there! It kept things exciting! From what I remember from last year, my favorite cheer stations were St. John Lutheran Church and Wright Stale Lake Campus. I also remember that there was a band playing once I got to the park in St. Marys. It wasn't your normal marching band. It was more hip hop and had awesome beats. It was so cool!
I'm excited for tomorrow! The race starts at 7:30am, so I'll prolly show up around 7am.
This is the 1st time that I am participating in a race where I am NOT prepared at all.
I didn't train for this one.
At all.
The other 2 half's that I have been in, I trained (hard) for months to prepare for. This one, I just couldn't find the energy, time, interest, and drive. I don't know why, but it just "wasn't in me" this time.
Then why am I doing it? Why did I even register?
Because I know me.
I know, for a fact, that if I didn't participate, on the day of the race I would be wishing SO BAD that I was part of it. I would have been soooooo regretful for not signing up. I would have been really hard on myself and beat myself up about it. I KNOW I would have done this.
Its an awesome feeling when you know yourself really well. I am so proud of me for listening to my gut and signing up for the half marathon, even though I knew I wasn't going to be prepared.
So what's my plan?
Do my best.
As of now, I am planning on starting out with a very easy interval. Something that's not gonna kill me or set me up for failure right in the beginning.
I'm thinking maybe 2 min run, 5 min walk for the first few miles.... maybe bumping it up later, but maybe not. There is a possibility that even the easy interval may kill me, so if that's the case, my ass will be walking, and I'm totally OK with that.
I'm seriously just so happy to be a participant. and I will NEVER have a goal of "running the entire time". I KNOW I could never do that. My body would never let me, I promise that. I know myself well enough. I have no desire to EVER run more than 3 miles straight at a time. Just to be clear.
I'm hoping I can finish in under 3 hours. If I finish in 2 hrs. and 59 minutes, I'll be happy!
If I would have trained for this like I had originally planned, my goal time would maybe be to finish in under 2hr. 45 min.
I finished my 1st race in almost 4 hours.
My second I set a goal to finish under 3 hrs and 30 min. and I ended up finishing in 2 hrs and 57 min!
That was a proud moment!
My third race I'm gonna keep my goal the same it was last year... under 3 hrs and 30 min.
As long as I reach it, I'm good with that!
If I go over 3hrs 30 min, (which is a huge possibility), I wont be devastated. I'll still be proud of myself... but I know I can do better and (hopefully) not reaching my goal will push me to train harder next year!
Every half marathon I have done so far, I have gotten myself a little "diddy" (as my friend, Jo, would call it) as a reward.
This is my "diddy".
Every race I do (half marathons only) I add a washer with the date.
I'm still shocked that this will be my 3rd. I never thought Id ever do anything like this. Go me!
The Grand Lake Marathon, which is held in Celina.
I participated in this race last year and loved it! It was a beautiful course and the time of the year is perfect! What I loved the most about this race was that at every mile, there were "cheer groups". Local business could purchase a mile marker and set up a station to help cheer on the participants! I loved it! Every mile I was looking forward to seeing what business would be there! It kept things exciting! From what I remember from last year, my favorite cheer stations were St. John Lutheran Church and Wright Stale Lake Campus. I also remember that there was a band playing once I got to the park in St. Marys. It wasn't your normal marching band. It was more hip hop and had awesome beats. It was so cool!
I'm excited for tomorrow! The race starts at 7:30am, so I'll prolly show up around 7am.
This is the 1st time that I am participating in a race where I am NOT prepared at all.
I didn't train for this one.
At all.
The other 2 half's that I have been in, I trained (hard) for months to prepare for. This one, I just couldn't find the energy, time, interest, and drive. I don't know why, but it just "wasn't in me" this time.
Then why am I doing it? Why did I even register?
Because I know me.
I know, for a fact, that if I didn't participate, on the day of the race I would be wishing SO BAD that I was part of it. I would have been soooooo regretful for not signing up. I would have been really hard on myself and beat myself up about it. I KNOW I would have done this.
Its an awesome feeling when you know yourself really well. I am so proud of me for listening to my gut and signing up for the half marathon, even though I knew I wasn't going to be prepared.
So what's my plan?
Do my best.
As of now, I am planning on starting out with a very easy interval. Something that's not gonna kill me or set me up for failure right in the beginning.
I'm thinking maybe 2 min run, 5 min walk for the first few miles.... maybe bumping it up later, but maybe not. There is a possibility that even the easy interval may kill me, so if that's the case, my ass will be walking, and I'm totally OK with that.
I'm seriously just so happy to be a participant. and I will NEVER have a goal of "running the entire time". I KNOW I could never do that. My body would never let me, I promise that. I know myself well enough. I have no desire to EVER run more than 3 miles straight at a time. Just to be clear.
I'm hoping I can finish in under 3 hours. If I finish in 2 hrs. and 59 minutes, I'll be happy!
If I would have trained for this like I had originally planned, my goal time would maybe be to finish in under 2hr. 45 min.
I finished my 1st race in almost 4 hours.
My second I set a goal to finish under 3 hrs and 30 min. and I ended up finishing in 2 hrs and 57 min!
That was a proud moment!
My third race I'm gonna keep my goal the same it was last year... under 3 hrs and 30 min.
As long as I reach it, I'm good with that!
If I go over 3hrs 30 min, (which is a huge possibility), I wont be devastated. I'll still be proud of myself... but I know I can do better and (hopefully) not reaching my goal will push me to train harder next year!
Every half marathon I have done so far, I have gotten myself a little "diddy" (as my friend, Jo, would call it) as a reward.
This is my "diddy".
Every race I do (half marathons only) I add a washer with the date.
I'm still shocked that this will be my 3rd. I never thought Id ever do anything like this. Go me!
Thursday, September 24, 2015
The History of My Heart.
Dear Cece,
When you experience your very first heartbreak, I want you to read this.
I love you!
Love, Mom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ever had your heart broken?
If not, you suck.
But also if not, then I kinda feel sorry for you.
I feel sorry for you because you have not experienced something that, I think, is essential to experience in a lifetime.
I've had my heart broken (3) times (so far) in my 35 years on this green earth.
(3) times too many, if you ask me.
But, I guess (3) is better than 15.
I would have settled for (1) good, firm heartbreak. I mean, I could have learned and grew from just (1)... I really didn't need the 2nd (2) to happen......but they did and I coped.
Anyway... I remember those heartbreaks like they happened yesterday.
The feeling of having a broken heart can't be explained, but I'm gonna try my best to put it into words......my words.
Heartbreak is different for everyone.
I look at Cece and I am anxious for her to feel her 1st heartbreak. I'm dreading it because it's gonna hurt her. I'm also a little excited for her because I think that once she recovers from that heartbreak, she will be a different woman. She will be stronger, more compassionate, wiser, more confident, and she will carry this heartbreak with her for the rest of her life, like a medal she has earned.
I can't speak for Leo. I have no idea what heartbreak is for a man. I only know what it's like for a woman and I GUARENTEE it's different. But I will tell him this: be very careful with a girls heart. If you break it, do it gently and not hatefully. She will eventually get over it, but it may take her awhile and you can't hate her for that. Try your best to understand even if you don't and say your sorry 100 times............ and don't be an asshole.
My 1st heartbreak.
I was 18.
His name was Matt.
I was a freshman in college and so was he.
I remember the day we met... he was going back and forth from a car, unloading stuff into his dorm room.
I was walking with my roommate, Krista.
We ran into each other and both of us knew the other looked familiar.
I knew I had seen him before and I could tell he thought the same.
We both said "hi" and I THINK we may have swapped numbers or he may have invited us over to his dorm later or something..... because from that moment on we were always together.
I loved him. I really did. He was so cute, he had great hands (I have a "thing" with a man's hands) , and I just really liked his face.
We were from around the same area and knew a lot of the same people.
We had the same interests... we both liked to party and be social, we both liked movies, and we both liked.......... well, that may have been it. I was 18, remember?
We "went out" for a 2 years. That was the longest relationship I had ever been in.
In those couple of years, I think we broke up a time or two.
I remember a lot about those (2) years that I spend loving Matt.....
I remember the people we hung out with, I remember movies we saw together, I remember him meeting my family (my mom made Wild Rice soup for dinner and he didn't like it, but tried his best to eat some to be polite).
I remember my dad shaking his hand (and Matt told me later that is REALLY hurt), I remember where he lived (a dorm room, the 2nd floor of a house with (1) roommate, and another bigger house on College St. with (2? 3?) other guys.
I remember gifts we got each other (I remember that our first Christmas together he bought me like (5) sweaters and he was the first boy to buy me "nice" jewelry....... a pair of gold earrings).
I remember how I felt with Matt. He made me happy. I wanted to be with and around him all the time.
I remember that my heartbreak over Matt took me a long time to get over.
A really long time.
We ended up breaking up for good my junior year of college.
He completed his Freshman year at U of F, but then joined the Army. We lasted through his basic training and (maybe?) about a year after that, but it eventually ended bad.
There were a lot of sad moments (on my part) that I remember with Matt.
I remember he was the first boy who I ever REALLY cried over.
I remember my Dad comforting me when I was crying over him.
I remember that he was the first boy to cheat on me and I remember "the night" I found out.
I remember the shock, hurt, disappointment, anger, and stupidity that I felt.
He cheated on me with a girl named Jamie.
Honestly, after that.... I really don't remember much more about our relationship.
Our last "official" break up was at a dance club in Findlay; Brandy's.
I remember being with my roommate Melanie and my friends Cory and Aaron.
I remember how I worn my hair.... I had one of those elastic bands that had fake hair on it and I used it to wrap around my real hair. I remember I worn a "messy bun" and I specifically remember that I was having a good hair day.
I clearly remember that.
Isn't it weird the things our brains zero in on?!?!
I remember knowing Matt was going to be there that night and I remember trying to pretend that I didn't care.
I remember dancing with some random guy specifically to make Matt jealous. I have no idea if it worked.
I remember this night was also the first night I ever got punched in the face.
Not by Matt.
By a girl named Roni.
She was a "friend" of Matt's and I guess she hit me because she was defending (protecting?) him.
I remember Matt and I were yelling at each other, over what I have no idea, and I remember starting to cry and putting my hand over his face and digging my fingernails into his skin.
That is when I got hit in the eye from the side.
After that.... we went home and I don't think I ever cried so hard and I remember Melanie telling me to pray.
I had a black eye the next morning and I remember when I had to explain it to my mom and how mad at me she was.
After that, Matt left for Hawaii and I didn't see him again for about 2? 3? years.
He came home to visit his family for Christmas. We somehow got in touch with one another through email. He was going to come over to catch up.
I will NEVER forget the butterflies in my stomach that night.
He came over. We sat on my couch. I remember my roommate and I were in the middle of moving, so all our stuff was boxed up. We talked and drank. We went to Kroger at some point and got more beer and I remember the cashier questioning his military ID.
We went back to my apartment. I remember he kissed me.
Out of nowhere.
I think I was in the middle of a sentence.
I remember tears running down my face as soon as he did this.
I wasn't happy that he kissed me. I wasn't excited that he kissed me. I was sad... because I knew that this kiss meant sooooo many things.
It meant "I'm sorry".
It meant "I miss you".
It meant "I really did love you".
It meant "goodbye".
After that, he left while I was in the bathroom getting my composer.
He went to a house party at a friends. He said he was going to come back.... and he did, but I was asleep.
He promised to call me the next day and take me to dinner.
He never did.
I think I called his house 100 times that day, looking like a total psycho. I remember realizing at that point.... it was really over.
I never talked or saw him again.
I did kinda communicate with him one more time, but not directly.
His roommate from our freshman year committed suicide and I sent his mom his obituary and asked that she tell Matt what happened.
Years later.... like probably 6 or 7 years..... I was at country concert.
I ran into an old friend of Matt's.
I didn't want to look crazy and psycho, but I was really curious about what Matt was up to.
I very casually asked this old friend..... "Hey, whatever happened to Matt?"
This friend told me he was married.
My heart dropped, I totally pretended to be surprised and acted happy.
It hurt knowing that.
It took a long time to "get over" Matt.
I dated other people and they never really match up to him. One guy I dated said to me once during a fight we were having, "You are so still in love with him!"
He was referring to Matt.
He was right.
I remember many nights crying over Matt... while we dated and after. I remember the feeling of ache in my heart sucked, and the moment it went away, it finally felt like a weight was lifted off my chest.
That moment was when I met J.T.
My 2nd Heartbreak.
I was 23.
I remember meeting him when Lindsey and I went out and he came along.
He was friends with Lindsey's boyfriend and I think we were going to a party in Columbus.
I remember knowing ahead of time that he was coming and that he "liked" me.
I was dating someone else at the time and I honestly wasn't interested.
Well, that relationship ended and I remember the moment when I decided to give J.T. a call.
I left him a message and I left my first and last name and remember saying.... "I don't know if you remember me or not...".
I went home to Ottawa that night and that's when J.T. returned my call.
I remember sitting on the floor, in the family room of the house I grew up in, and seeing an unknown number light up my phone screen neon green.
I knew it was him.
I remember being very confident. I knew he liked me. I knew this would go well.
I wasn't REALLY interested in him, but I didn't want to be single and I thought he was cute.
I remember him laughing at the message I left him, because I left my last name and asked "if he remembered me".
He said, "Of course I remember you!" and immediately asked me out on a date.
I remember him telling me how excited he was when he got my message and I remember that making me feel amazing.
J.T. and I didn't date long. Almost a year I think. I fell in love with him quick.
We had fun together.
He was a teacher and I was working at JCP. I still couldn't pass that effin PRAXIS test, so I wasn't able to teach that year. I think that bothered him that I didn't have a "real job".
I met his parents and he met mine.
Actually, he only met my Mom. My dad died the year I started dating J.T..
J.T. was with me and my family on the 1st Christmas morning without Dad.
It was so hard and we all sobbed.
Ithink know that J.T. felt uncomfortable, but did his best to try to comfort me and I loved him for that.
He was a basketball coach and I liked that. I was a sucker for basketball boys. Always have been.
Being a coaches girlfriend sucked. He was never able to do things on the weekends and if the team ever lost (which they did a lot) he was always grumpy.
I remember taking pictures of all the basketball players on his team and making Christmas ornaments for each of them. It took forever, but I felt so proud to do it.
I remember J.T. got me a waffle maker for my 24th birthday. I still have it.
The way J.T. and I ended was weird.
I still don't really know what happened.
I THINK it may have been because I got really sick once and (honestly) I think it turned him off. Which is kinda funny, looking back on it.
We went to GA for my cousins wedding and I got food poisoning (from pizza I think). I was pretty grossly sick (barfing and pooping) for 2 straight days. I must have not been attractive to him during those 2 days..... so unattractive that he broke up with me a few days later.
It was a shock when we broke up and I was defiantly heartbroken. It felt extremely similar to what I went through with Matt. I remember begging him not to do this.
I remember saying that "I don't want to go through this again!", "I can't go through this again!".
It was like crawling back to hell after finally escaping.
I remember that this was the first time I had cried over a man since Matt, and I remember my mom hugging me and holding me so tight the night the break-up happened. My mom and I had never really been that affectionate with one another, so this was a big deal to me.
I drove home to Ottawa (10pm?), burst through the front door, and directly into my mom's open arms. I stood there and sobbed for about 10 minutes. My mom's friend, Deb, was over visiting at the time, and I remember her quietly putting her hand on my shoulder, softly walking around mom and I, and slipping out the front door.
J.T. had never had his heart broken before, so he had no idea why I was so upset. It was easy for him to walk away. He started dating someone shortly after me.
It was not easy for me to walk away. It was hard for me to move on after that break-up and it was 75% of the reason I moved to SC a few months later.
That heartbreak took awhile to get over as well. I lost a lot of weight because of it......
which was A-MAZ-BALLS!
I remember running into J.T. at Country Concert that summer. I had lost about 15 lbs and had THE BEST abs I've ever had in my life! I was wearing a bikini top and jean shorts. It felt good to see him there, mainly because I looked so smokin' hot!
We talked for about 7 seconds and he mentioned that he heard I was moving to South Carolina in a few days. I told him I was going to be teaching 7th and 8th grade creative writing and I remember him laughing, making fun of that.
I came back with a snarky comment about him teaching "gym" and he shut up.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
Running into J.T. at country concert was a breeze for me....... because this was the day I also met the man I would eventually marry.
I had met Toby about an hour prior to running into J.T.
When I first laid eyes on Toby I was attracted to him. He was a doll! A Brad Pitt/Leonardo DeCaprieo look-alike, with a great tan, and awesome abs! I had no problem running around with Toby that day/night and running into an ex-boyfriend was icing on the cake.
Bless THAT broken road!
My 3rd Heartbreak happened in between my break-up with Matt and before I met J.T.
When My dad died, my heart shattered again.... but this heartbreak felt different than the others.
This heartbreak I knew was never going to go away.
I knew that the feeling of "missing" my dad would be here forever.
Time was not going to heal this break, like it did the others.
This one felt like a hole. A never ending hole. It was deep, black, and my stomach constantly had the feeling that I was doing downhill in a roller costar.
There is not a lot to say about this heart break, cause it's still here.
It's not healed yet and probably never will be. But, I've learned to live with it.
Its like a wound that you have top keep an eye on.
I've got to take care of it.... keep it clean and bandaged. Sometimes it feels fine, shows no sign of infection, isn't red or sore. But, then there are other times where it flares up and I need some extra antibiotics on it.
It's a funny wound, but I'm used to it and I know it won't kill me.
At times it hurts really bad, and I think it just might kill me.... but it hasn't yet.
So, for now I'll keep an eye on it and watch it for signs of infection.
As nuts as it sounds, I am very grateful for these (3) heartbreaks.
I have been made who I am because of them.
If these had never happened to me, I wouldn't be who I am now. I became so strong, more confident, a little guarded (but I think that's good), and more compassionate.
I loved and lost and loved again and lost again and loved again.
One thing I know for sure..... My heart may be broken again several more times throughout the remainder of my life. And I'm gonna have to deal with those when they come. But, I guarantee that they will not dealt with alone. Toby Rolfes will never break my heart.... this I know. So at least dealing with another break-up will never be something I ever have to heal from again.
Sidenote:
Matt is married now to a beautiful girl. They live in VA and he has 2 adorable kids. I'm happy for him and he has a great career with the military. He's a big part of my college life and contributed to who I am today. I could never hate him. There were time when I did, but not anymore.
J.T. is also married. He has a son and still coaches HS basketball.
My dad is still dead. lol.
When you experience your very first heartbreak, I want you to read this.
I love you!
Love, Mom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ever had your heart broken?
If not, you suck.
But also if not, then I kinda feel sorry for you.
I feel sorry for you because you have not experienced something that, I think, is essential to experience in a lifetime.
I've had my heart broken (3) times (so far) in my 35 years on this green earth.
(3) times too many, if you ask me.
But, I guess (3) is better than 15.
I would have settled for (1) good, firm heartbreak. I mean, I could have learned and grew from just (1)... I really didn't need the 2nd (2) to happen......but they did and I coped.
Anyway... I remember those heartbreaks like they happened yesterday.
The feeling of having a broken heart can't be explained, but I'm gonna try my best to put it into words......my words.
Heartbreak is different for everyone.
I look at Cece and I am anxious for her to feel her 1st heartbreak. I'm dreading it because it's gonna hurt her. I'm also a little excited for her because I think that once she recovers from that heartbreak, she will be a different woman. She will be stronger, more compassionate, wiser, more confident, and she will carry this heartbreak with her for the rest of her life, like a medal she has earned.
I can't speak for Leo. I have no idea what heartbreak is for a man. I only know what it's like for a woman and I GUARENTEE it's different. But I will tell him this: be very careful with a girls heart. If you break it, do it gently and not hatefully. She will eventually get over it, but it may take her awhile and you can't hate her for that. Try your best to understand even if you don't and say your sorry 100 times............ and don't be an asshole.
My 1st heartbreak.
I was 18.
His name was Matt.
I was a freshman in college and so was he.
I remember the day we met... he was going back and forth from a car, unloading stuff into his dorm room.
I was walking with my roommate, Krista.
We ran into each other and both of us knew the other looked familiar.
I knew I had seen him before and I could tell he thought the same.
We both said "hi" and I THINK we may have swapped numbers or he may have invited us over to his dorm later or something..... because from that moment on we were always together.
I loved him. I really did. He was so cute, he had great hands (I have a "thing" with a man's hands) , and I just really liked his face.
We were from around the same area and knew a lot of the same people.
We had the same interests... we both liked to party and be social, we both liked movies, and we both liked.......... well, that may have been it. I was 18, remember?
We "went out" for a 2 years. That was the longest relationship I had ever been in.
In those couple of years, I think we broke up a time or two.
I remember a lot about those (2) years that I spend loving Matt.....
I remember the people we hung out with, I remember movies we saw together, I remember him meeting my family (my mom made Wild Rice soup for dinner and he didn't like it, but tried his best to eat some to be polite).
I remember my dad shaking his hand (and Matt told me later that is REALLY hurt), I remember where he lived (a dorm room, the 2nd floor of a house with (1) roommate, and another bigger house on College St. with (2? 3?) other guys.
I remember gifts we got each other (I remember that our first Christmas together he bought me like (5) sweaters and he was the first boy to buy me "nice" jewelry....... a pair of gold earrings).
I remember how I felt with Matt. He made me happy. I wanted to be with and around him all the time.
I remember that my heartbreak over Matt took me a long time to get over.
A really long time.
We ended up breaking up for good my junior year of college.
He completed his Freshman year at U of F, but then joined the Army. We lasted through his basic training and (maybe?) about a year after that, but it eventually ended bad.
There were a lot of sad moments (on my part) that I remember with Matt.
I remember he was the first boy who I ever REALLY cried over.
I remember my Dad comforting me when I was crying over him.
I remember that he was the first boy to cheat on me and I remember "the night" I found out.
I remember the shock, hurt, disappointment, anger, and stupidity that I felt.
He cheated on me with a girl named Jamie.
Honestly, after that.... I really don't remember much more about our relationship.
Our last "official" break up was at a dance club in Findlay; Brandy's.
I remember being with my roommate Melanie and my friends Cory and Aaron.
I remember how I worn my hair.... I had one of those elastic bands that had fake hair on it and I used it to wrap around my real hair. I remember I worn a "messy bun" and I specifically remember that I was having a good hair day.
I clearly remember that.
Isn't it weird the things our brains zero in on?!?!
I remember knowing Matt was going to be there that night and I remember trying to pretend that I didn't care.
I remember dancing with some random guy specifically to make Matt jealous. I have no idea if it worked.
I remember this night was also the first night I ever got punched in the face.
Not by Matt.
By a girl named Roni.
She was a "friend" of Matt's and I guess she hit me because she was defending (protecting?) him.
I remember Matt and I were yelling at each other, over what I have no idea, and I remember starting to cry and putting my hand over his face and digging my fingernails into his skin.
That is when I got hit in the eye from the side.
After that.... we went home and I don't think I ever cried so hard and I remember Melanie telling me to pray.
I had a black eye the next morning and I remember when I had to explain it to my mom and how mad at me she was.
After that, Matt left for Hawaii and I didn't see him again for about 2? 3? years.
He came home to visit his family for Christmas. We somehow got in touch with one another through email. He was going to come over to catch up.
I will NEVER forget the butterflies in my stomach that night.
He came over. We sat on my couch. I remember my roommate and I were in the middle of moving, so all our stuff was boxed up. We talked and drank. We went to Kroger at some point and got more beer and I remember the cashier questioning his military ID.
We went back to my apartment. I remember he kissed me.
Out of nowhere.
I think I was in the middle of a sentence.
I remember tears running down my face as soon as he did this.
I wasn't happy that he kissed me. I wasn't excited that he kissed me. I was sad... because I knew that this kiss meant sooooo many things.
It meant "I'm sorry".
It meant "I miss you".
It meant "I really did love you".
It meant "goodbye".
After that, he left while I was in the bathroom getting my composer.
He went to a house party at a friends. He said he was going to come back.... and he did, but I was asleep.
He promised to call me the next day and take me to dinner.
He never did.
I think I called his house 100 times that day, looking like a total psycho. I remember realizing at that point.... it was really over.
I never talked or saw him again.
I did kinda communicate with him one more time, but not directly.
His roommate from our freshman year committed suicide and I sent his mom his obituary and asked that she tell Matt what happened.
Years later.... like probably 6 or 7 years..... I was at country concert.
I ran into an old friend of Matt's.
I didn't want to look crazy and psycho, but I was really curious about what Matt was up to.
I very casually asked this old friend..... "Hey, whatever happened to Matt?"
This friend told me he was married.
My heart dropped, I totally pretended to be surprised and acted happy.
It hurt knowing that.
It took a long time to "get over" Matt.
I dated other people and they never really match up to him. One guy I dated said to me once during a fight we were having, "You are so still in love with him!"
He was referring to Matt.
He was right.
I remember many nights crying over Matt... while we dated and after. I remember the feeling of ache in my heart sucked, and the moment it went away, it finally felt like a weight was lifted off my chest.
That moment was when I met J.T.
My 2nd Heartbreak.
I was 23.
I remember meeting him when Lindsey and I went out and he came along.
He was friends with Lindsey's boyfriend and I think we were going to a party in Columbus.
I remember knowing ahead of time that he was coming and that he "liked" me.
I was dating someone else at the time and I honestly wasn't interested.
Well, that relationship ended and I remember the moment when I decided to give J.T. a call.
I left him a message and I left my first and last name and remember saying.... "I don't know if you remember me or not...".
I went home to Ottawa that night and that's when J.T. returned my call.
I remember sitting on the floor, in the family room of the house I grew up in, and seeing an unknown number light up my phone screen neon green.
I knew it was him.
I remember being very confident. I knew he liked me. I knew this would go well.
I wasn't REALLY interested in him, but I didn't want to be single and I thought he was cute.
I remember him laughing at the message I left him, because I left my last name and asked "if he remembered me".
He said, "Of course I remember you!" and immediately asked me out on a date.
I remember him telling me how excited he was when he got my message and I remember that making me feel amazing.
J.T. and I didn't date long. Almost a year I think. I fell in love with him quick.
We had fun together.
He was a teacher and I was working at JCP. I still couldn't pass that effin PRAXIS test, so I wasn't able to teach that year. I think that bothered him that I didn't have a "real job".
I met his parents and he met mine.
Actually, he only met my Mom. My dad died the year I started dating J.T..
J.T. was with me and my family on the 1st Christmas morning without Dad.
It was so hard and we all sobbed.
I
He was a basketball coach and I liked that. I was a sucker for basketball boys. Always have been.
Being a coaches girlfriend sucked. He was never able to do things on the weekends and if the team ever lost (which they did a lot) he was always grumpy.
I remember taking pictures of all the basketball players on his team and making Christmas ornaments for each of them. It took forever, but I felt so proud to do it.
I remember J.T. got me a waffle maker for my 24th birthday. I still have it.
The way J.T. and I ended was weird.
I still don't really know what happened.
I THINK it may have been because I got really sick once and (honestly) I think it turned him off. Which is kinda funny, looking back on it.
We went to GA for my cousins wedding and I got food poisoning (from pizza I think). I was pretty grossly sick (barfing and pooping) for 2 straight days. I must have not been attractive to him during those 2 days..... so unattractive that he broke up with me a few days later.
It was a shock when we broke up and I was defiantly heartbroken. It felt extremely similar to what I went through with Matt. I remember begging him not to do this.
I remember saying that "I don't want to go through this again!", "I can't go through this again!".
It was like crawling back to hell after finally escaping.
I remember that this was the first time I had cried over a man since Matt, and I remember my mom hugging me and holding me so tight the night the break-up happened. My mom and I had never really been that affectionate with one another, so this was a big deal to me.
I drove home to Ottawa (10pm?), burst through the front door, and directly into my mom's open arms. I stood there and sobbed for about 10 minutes. My mom's friend, Deb, was over visiting at the time, and I remember her quietly putting her hand on my shoulder, softly walking around mom and I, and slipping out the front door.
J.T. had never had his heart broken before, so he had no idea why I was so upset. It was easy for him to walk away. He started dating someone shortly after me.
It was not easy for me to walk away. It was hard for me to move on after that break-up and it was 75% of the reason I moved to SC a few months later.
That heartbreak took awhile to get over as well. I lost a lot of weight because of it......
which was A-MAZ-BALLS!
I remember running into J.T. at Country Concert that summer. I had lost about 15 lbs and had THE BEST abs I've ever had in my life! I was wearing a bikini top and jean shorts. It felt good to see him there, mainly because I looked so smokin' hot!
We talked for about 7 seconds and he mentioned that he heard I was moving to South Carolina in a few days. I told him I was going to be teaching 7th and 8th grade creative writing and I remember him laughing, making fun of that.
I came back with a snarky comment about him teaching "gym" and he shut up.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
Running into J.T. at country concert was a breeze for me....... because this was the day I also met the man I would eventually marry.
I had met Toby about an hour prior to running into J.T.
When I first laid eyes on Toby I was attracted to him. He was a doll! A Brad Pitt/Leonardo DeCaprieo look-alike, with a great tan, and awesome abs! I had no problem running around with Toby that day/night and running into an ex-boyfriend was icing on the cake.
Bless THAT broken road!
My 3rd Heartbreak happened in between my break-up with Matt and before I met J.T.
When My dad died, my heart shattered again.... but this heartbreak felt different than the others.
This heartbreak I knew was never going to go away.
I knew that the feeling of "missing" my dad would be here forever.
Time was not going to heal this break, like it did the others.
This one felt like a hole. A never ending hole. It was deep, black, and my stomach constantly had the feeling that I was doing downhill in a roller costar.
There is not a lot to say about this heart break, cause it's still here.
It's not healed yet and probably never will be. But, I've learned to live with it.
Its like a wound that you have top keep an eye on.
I've got to take care of it.... keep it clean and bandaged. Sometimes it feels fine, shows no sign of infection, isn't red or sore. But, then there are other times where it flares up and I need some extra antibiotics on it.
It's a funny wound, but I'm used to it and I know it won't kill me.
At times it hurts really bad, and I think it just might kill me.... but it hasn't yet.
So, for now I'll keep an eye on it and watch it for signs of infection.
As nuts as it sounds, I am very grateful for these (3) heartbreaks.
I have been made who I am because of them.
If these had never happened to me, I wouldn't be who I am now. I became so strong, more confident, a little guarded (but I think that's good), and more compassionate.
I loved and lost and loved again and lost again and loved again.
One thing I know for sure..... My heart may be broken again several more times throughout the remainder of my life. And I'm gonna have to deal with those when they come. But, I guarantee that they will not dealt with alone. Toby Rolfes will never break my heart.... this I know. So at least dealing with another break-up will never be something I ever have to heal from again.
Sidenote:
Matt is married now to a beautiful girl. They live in VA and he has 2 adorable kids. I'm happy for him and he has a great career with the military. He's a big part of my college life and contributed to who I am today. I could never hate him. There were time when I did, but not anymore.
J.T. is also married. He has a son and still coaches HS basketball.
My dad is still dead. lol.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
The Hardest Things.
Top (5) hardest things about being a mom (from MY perceptive.)
5. The pressure and judgment us moms deal with.
I have said this before, but I'll say it again... as soon as Leo was born, I had about 30 minutes of complete bliss and happiness before the nurse informed me that she had changed Leo's wet AND dirty diaper for me. That was the moment where my entire life changed.
Not because Leo was now a part of it, but because it was the 1st moment I felt judged as a mom. From that moment on..... it never stopped and I don't plan on it stopping any time soon.
My mom once said something to me that I could not have agreed more with,. She said
"I would hate to be a mom in this day and age. The pressure you girls are under is ridiculous".
She's right, ya know.
Isn't mom always right?
But, seriously.... we (us moms) are expected to breastfeed. If you don't breastfeed you will go to federal prison. Lol... not really, its a personal choice I know, but the judgment the non-breastfeeding moms get is tough.
Those mom's who take the easy way out, who don't love their children as much, who don't have "that bond" that breastfeeding mom's have, who don't want the best option possible for their baby, and who poisoned their baby's with formula and plastic bottles know what I'm talking about.
Someone actually told me that the reason Leo had a cold and earache was "because you didn't breastfeed". She also felt the need to throw another throat punch in there with, "My kids have never been sick".
I also specifically remember 2 days after that ignorant, self-righteous comment was made, her child threw up all over the backseat of her car.
On top of being "the breast" mom, there are pressures to make baby food from scratch, use organic everything, save the environment with cloth diapers (because God forbid I expose my child to the dangers of regular diapers), "wear" our baby's, never allow them to cry it out (oh the damage THAT will cause in the future!), compete with each other by creating the best pregnancy announcements, gender revel parties, shower themes, 1st birthday parties, and birth announcements.
Speaking of birth.... did you use drugs? Cause if you did you are "not as cool" as the mom who did it the natural way. ?!? Did you give birth in a bathtub? The woods? On an exercise ball? On your hands and knees? Did you pull out your baby yourself? Cause if you didn't, you have missed out on a bonding experience that will never come again. Did they wash off your baby right away or did they keep him "white" for awhile? Cause if they washed him first, he defiantly wont be as healthy as a baby who wasn't bathed immediately. How many pushes did it take you? Make sure its above 5 or else you will be considered weak. Someone asked me this question once. I responded, "Umm, I'm not sure...". She proceeded to tell me that her magic number was 3. She waited for a response. She didn't get one. I guess the trophy she was expecting wasn't finished getting engraved yet. Darn.
4. How often I question myself
I'm ALWAYS second guessing myself regarding Leo and Cece. I never in my life have put this much through into anything I ever did.....until I became Leo and Cece's mom. In a span of 24 hours, these are the common, most re-occurring questions I am constantly asking myself:
Am I a good mom?
Was that selfish?
Would (insert a fellow moms name that I'm currently trying to measure up to) do it this way?
Does this really matter?
Will he/she/they remember this?
Am I making a memory?
Is this healthy?
Am I paying enough attention to them?
Should I be doing something constructive with them right now?
Would my mom do this?
Did my mom do this?
Will that cause cancer?
Will Toby be proud of this?
Will this make Toby mad?
Is that a sign of ADD?
Did I do that?
Was that right?
Is anyone watching?
Is she judging me?
Is this wrong?
See. Good thing you aren't me, huh?
3. Letting them go
I know they are not packing up and heading to college, but that's not really the "letting go" I'm referring to.
I'm talking about leaving them....period.
Leaving them without me.
Whether I take them to a daycare or babysitter or drop them off at school or take them to Sunday school or enroll them on their first sports team or dance class or send them off for a sleepover at their nonnies. I'ts not that I can't function without their presence. I wont grieve until they come back. It doesn't matter if they are away from me for an hour or 3 days. I'm fine with taking "kid free" trips. I'm not going to sob on my way out, waving from the car window. It's not about "missing" them..... it's about what they experience without me that I will never know about.
Things will happen when Mom is not present. Great things, good things, sad things, mean things, bad things, life changing things, new things... lots of things. Things I will have no control over.
Another kid may say something to Leo or Cece that hurts their feelings.
Another kid may become Leo's best friend on the playground that day and will continue to be his best friend until he graduates from HS. I will probably never know what was said or how that bond was created...cause it happened without me.
Cece and her friends may talk about boys together and one of them may tell her what a "wet dream" is. I won't be there to see her reaction or how she deals with that bit of information or even if the information is correct or not. I remember when I was a kid, my neighbor told me what sex was. She said it was when "a man puts his pee pee in a woman's poop hole and pee's." So, for the longest time, that was what sex was to me. Peeing in someone's butt. I guarantee my mom never knew this. (until now)
Leo will probably hear "the F word" or say "the F word" and I won't be around to know the details of that moment. Why it was said, how it was said, if it was said to someone. I doubt he will come galloping home to share the news with me.
Cece may help out a little girl in need and her true character will shine through or she may contribute to bullying someone.
An adult may say something to or around one of them that may affect them somehow. An adult may curse, yell, be fighting with another adult, be crying, be rude to them, or be really sweet to them.
Regardless of what happens, I wont be there to witness it for myself.
Sure, Leo and Cece will tell me things that happen... but I guarantee you that they will NEVER tell me EVERYTHING.
What if Cece or Leo are in a situation where they need to make a serious decision? What happens when they come to a crossroad and they have to decide? Cause it will happen. Will they cheat on a test? Will they try to smoke? Will they stand up for what they believe is right? Will they lie or tell the truth? Will they choose wisely?
Ill never know.
Any lessons they learn, stories they hear, names they will be called, sad, brave, confusing, happy, excited, scary moments that they will remember for the rest of their lives..... I wont be apart of.
That is hard to grasp and accept.
Why can't I cant be in control of every situation that involves them? And when I am somewhere without them, why can't I have a simple surveillance monitor embedded into their skin that will allow me to see and hear everything that goes on in their lives without me? I don't think that's asking too much.
But, that's not possible or realistic or fair to them.
2. The temporary separation with the Mr.
(let me preface this by saying I love Toby Rolfes more than ever!)
Toby and I's relationship changed the second we became parents. I pretty sure that Toby loved me more than he did the day he married me as soon as Leo was born.
I know I loved him more.
From that moment, I looked at Toby different and I'm pretty positive he looked at me different too. ("Did I poop? "You might have... just a little")
Toby wasn't just my husband anymore... he was "Dad" and his name wasn't all that changed.
The attention he used to give me was less and less and I was OK with that. Sometimes. Usually it's the other way around... the mom is the one who gives all her attention to the baby and leaves none for the dad. It happened the opposite way around in our house.
Dates were different. They were obviously less and less, but now while out on the occasional date, the conversation is always about the kids, we both are usually tired and go home earlier than we want to, we both have a twinge of guilt for being on a date in the first place, and the time spent alone with Toby always goes too fast.
There was more competiveness in our relationship once we became parents. I know for sure that I was really good at "keeping track" whose turn it was to... feed, change diapers, give a bath, play with, rock to sleep, change the diaper genie bag, get the baby dressed in the morning, do the late night shift, get up first on Sunday, ect...
I really never competed with Toby (or any man, for that matter) before. Who gives the better baths? Who gets Leo to sleep the best? Who keeps Leo entertained better? Who is the fastest at changing a diaper? Who can get Cece to stop crying the best? Who can put up with the most stress before they loose their sh*t? Who is calmer? Its' a struggle and more my issue than his. I don't think he competes with me as much as I do with him.
The "busyness" is never ending and "tiredness" is the third wheel all the time.
Drinking and partying is forever changed and our the importance of our social lives doesn't really matter at all to either of us, frankly.
Little moments when he passes me in the kitchen, wraps his arms around my waist, hugs me for 8 seconds, and kisses my check mean more to me than anything. Little things like this matter more now than they did before. A lot of times Toby and I will hug each other and say "I miss you" and we both understand what that means.
We are more of a team now than a couple.
We work together and make sure that there is never an "I" in TEAM. I miss our "old relationship", but the "new relationship" is growing on me. I love Toby more than I did on June 9, 2007. He's the best Dad for our kids and I consider myself extremely lucky to be his partner, his wife, the mom of his kids, and his teammate!!
And sex? well, that's personal.....;)
1. The Guilt
From day 1.
My new BFF.
More like that annoying friend who won't leave you alone.
I felt guilty because the nurse changed Leos first diaper instead of me. That feeling has not gone away since.
I felt guilty when I wanted to take a nap after giving birth and I wasn't holding Leo every chance I got.
I felt guilty that Toby fed him in the middle of the night the first night in the hospital because I was asleep.
I felt guilty feeding Leo a bottle instead of breastfeeding him.
I felt guilty every time he would cry because that meant that something was wrong. (I soon got over that, though)
The older the kids get, the guilt doesn't lessen any.
Whenever I do anything without them, I'm feeling guilty. No question.
If I go home after school so I can sit on the couch, drink a Dt. Coke in peace, and attempt to catch the beginning of Dr. Phil, before picking them up at daycare, I feel guilty.
I SHOULD be going to get them as soon as work is over. I mean, that's the reason for daycare, right? To take care of my kids while I'm at work. So if I'm technically not at work, there is no reason for them to be at daycare. Right?
I know.... so dumb. But its honestly what goes through my mind.
So there it is....the things that I feel was really hard about being a mom. I hope that these things will eventually get easier... but in the meantime, I'll keep working at it. Its all I really can do. Keep working......... and keep drinking. Defiantly keep drinking.
5. The pressure and judgment us moms deal with.
I have said this before, but I'll say it again... as soon as Leo was born, I had about 30 minutes of complete bliss and happiness before the nurse informed me that she had changed Leo's wet AND dirty diaper for me. That was the moment where my entire life changed.
Not because Leo was now a part of it, but because it was the 1st moment I felt judged as a mom. From that moment on..... it never stopped and I don't plan on it stopping any time soon.
My mom once said something to me that I could not have agreed more with,. She said
"I would hate to be a mom in this day and age. The pressure you girls are under is ridiculous".
She's right, ya know.
Isn't mom always right?
But, seriously.... we (us moms) are expected to breastfeed. If you don't breastfeed you will go to federal prison. Lol... not really, its a personal choice I know, but the judgment the non-breastfeeding moms get is tough.
Those mom's who take the easy way out, who don't love their children as much, who don't have "that bond" that breastfeeding mom's have, who don't want the best option possible for their baby, and who poisoned their baby's with formula and plastic bottles know what I'm talking about.
Someone actually told me that the reason Leo had a cold and earache was "because you didn't breastfeed". She also felt the need to throw another throat punch in there with, "My kids have never been sick".
I also specifically remember 2 days after that ignorant, self-righteous comment was made, her child threw up all over the backseat of her car.
On top of being "the breast" mom, there are pressures to make baby food from scratch, use organic everything, save the environment with cloth diapers (because God forbid I expose my child to the dangers of regular diapers), "wear" our baby's, never allow them to cry it out (oh the damage THAT will cause in the future!), compete with each other by creating the best pregnancy announcements, gender revel parties, shower themes, 1st birthday parties, and birth announcements.
Speaking of birth.... did you use drugs? Cause if you did you are "not as cool" as the mom who did it the natural way. ?!? Did you give birth in a bathtub? The woods? On an exercise ball? On your hands and knees? Did you pull out your baby yourself? Cause if you didn't, you have missed out on a bonding experience that will never come again. Did they wash off your baby right away or did they keep him "white" for awhile? Cause if they washed him first, he defiantly wont be as healthy as a baby who wasn't bathed immediately. How many pushes did it take you? Make sure its above 5 or else you will be considered weak. Someone asked me this question once. I responded, "Umm, I'm not sure...". She proceeded to tell me that her magic number was 3. She waited for a response. She didn't get one. I guess the trophy she was expecting wasn't finished getting engraved yet. Darn.
4. How often I question myself
I'm ALWAYS second guessing myself regarding Leo and Cece. I never in my life have put this much through into anything I ever did.....until I became Leo and Cece's mom. In a span of 24 hours, these are the common, most re-occurring questions I am constantly asking myself:
Am I a good mom?
Was that selfish?
Would (insert a fellow moms name that I'm currently trying to measure up to) do it this way?
Does this really matter?
Will he/she/they remember this?
Am I making a memory?
Is this healthy?
Am I paying enough attention to them?
Should I be doing something constructive with them right now?
Would my mom do this?
Did my mom do this?
Will that cause cancer?
Will Toby be proud of this?
Will this make Toby mad?
Is that a sign of ADD?
Did I do that?
Was that right?
Is anyone watching?
Is she judging me?
Is this wrong?
See. Good thing you aren't me, huh?
3. Letting them go
I know they are not packing up and heading to college, but that's not really the "letting go" I'm referring to.
I'm talking about leaving them....period.
Leaving them without me.
Whether I take them to a daycare or babysitter or drop them off at school or take them to Sunday school or enroll them on their first sports team or dance class or send them off for a sleepover at their nonnies. I'ts not that I can't function without their presence. I wont grieve until they come back. It doesn't matter if they are away from me for an hour or 3 days. I'm fine with taking "kid free" trips. I'm not going to sob on my way out, waving from the car window. It's not about "missing" them..... it's about what they experience without me that I will never know about.
Things will happen when Mom is not present. Great things, good things, sad things, mean things, bad things, life changing things, new things... lots of things. Things I will have no control over.
Another kid may say something to Leo or Cece that hurts their feelings.
Another kid may become Leo's best friend on the playground that day and will continue to be his best friend until he graduates from HS. I will probably never know what was said or how that bond was created...cause it happened without me.
Cece and her friends may talk about boys together and one of them may tell her what a "wet dream" is. I won't be there to see her reaction or how she deals with that bit of information or even if the information is correct or not. I remember when I was a kid, my neighbor told me what sex was. She said it was when "a man puts his pee pee in a woman's poop hole and pee's." So, for the longest time, that was what sex was to me. Peeing in someone's butt. I guarantee my mom never knew this. (until now)
Leo will probably hear "the F word" or say "the F word" and I won't be around to know the details of that moment. Why it was said, how it was said, if it was said to someone. I doubt he will come galloping home to share the news with me.
Cece may help out a little girl in need and her true character will shine through or she may contribute to bullying someone.
An adult may say something to or around one of them that may affect them somehow. An adult may curse, yell, be fighting with another adult, be crying, be rude to them, or be really sweet to them.
Regardless of what happens, I wont be there to witness it for myself.
Sure, Leo and Cece will tell me things that happen... but I guarantee you that they will NEVER tell me EVERYTHING.
What if Cece or Leo are in a situation where they need to make a serious decision? What happens when they come to a crossroad and they have to decide? Cause it will happen. Will they cheat on a test? Will they try to smoke? Will they stand up for what they believe is right? Will they lie or tell the truth? Will they choose wisely?
Ill never know.
Any lessons they learn, stories they hear, names they will be called, sad, brave, confusing, happy, excited, scary moments that they will remember for the rest of their lives..... I wont be apart of.
That is hard to grasp and accept.
Why can't I cant be in control of every situation that involves them? And when I am somewhere without them, why can't I have a simple surveillance monitor embedded into their skin that will allow me to see and hear everything that goes on in their lives without me? I don't think that's asking too much.
But, that's not possible or realistic or fair to them.
2. The temporary separation with the Mr.
(let me preface this by saying I love Toby Rolfes more than ever!)
Toby and I's relationship changed the second we became parents. I pretty sure that Toby loved me more than he did the day he married me as soon as Leo was born.
I know I loved him more.
From that moment, I looked at Toby different and I'm pretty positive he looked at me different too. ("Did I poop? "You might have... just a little")
Toby wasn't just my husband anymore... he was "Dad" and his name wasn't all that changed.
The attention he used to give me was less and less and I was OK with that. Sometimes. Usually it's the other way around... the mom is the one who gives all her attention to the baby and leaves none for the dad. It happened the opposite way around in our house.
Dates were different. They were obviously less and less, but now while out on the occasional date, the conversation is always about the kids, we both are usually tired and go home earlier than we want to, we both have a twinge of guilt for being on a date in the first place, and the time spent alone with Toby always goes too fast.
There was more competiveness in our relationship once we became parents. I know for sure that I was really good at "keeping track" whose turn it was to... feed, change diapers, give a bath, play with, rock to sleep, change the diaper genie bag, get the baby dressed in the morning, do the late night shift, get up first on Sunday, ect...
I really never competed with Toby (or any man, for that matter) before. Who gives the better baths? Who gets Leo to sleep the best? Who keeps Leo entertained better? Who is the fastest at changing a diaper? Who can get Cece to stop crying the best? Who can put up with the most stress before they loose their sh*t? Who is calmer? Its' a struggle and more my issue than his. I don't think he competes with me as much as I do with him.
The "busyness" is never ending and "tiredness" is the third wheel all the time.
Drinking and partying is forever changed and our the importance of our social lives doesn't really matter at all to either of us, frankly.
Little moments when he passes me in the kitchen, wraps his arms around my waist, hugs me for 8 seconds, and kisses my check mean more to me than anything. Little things like this matter more now than they did before. A lot of times Toby and I will hug each other and say "I miss you" and we both understand what that means.
We are more of a team now than a couple.
We work together and make sure that there is never an "I" in TEAM. I miss our "old relationship", but the "new relationship" is growing on me. I love Toby more than I did on June 9, 2007. He's the best Dad for our kids and I consider myself extremely lucky to be his partner, his wife, the mom of his kids, and his teammate!!
And sex? well, that's personal.....;)
1. The Guilt
From day 1.
My new BFF.
More like that annoying friend who won't leave you alone.
I felt guilty because the nurse changed Leos first diaper instead of me. That feeling has not gone away since.
I felt guilty when I wanted to take a nap after giving birth and I wasn't holding Leo every chance I got.
I felt guilty that Toby fed him in the middle of the night the first night in the hospital because I was asleep.
I felt guilty feeding Leo a bottle instead of breastfeeding him.
I felt guilty every time he would cry because that meant that something was wrong. (I soon got over that, though)
The older the kids get, the guilt doesn't lessen any.
Whenever I do anything without them, I'm feeling guilty. No question.
If I go home after school so I can sit on the couch, drink a Dt. Coke in peace, and attempt to catch the beginning of Dr. Phil, before picking them up at daycare, I feel guilty.
I SHOULD be going to get them as soon as work is over. I mean, that's the reason for daycare, right? To take care of my kids while I'm at work. So if I'm technically not at work, there is no reason for them to be at daycare. Right?
I know.... so dumb. But its honestly what goes through my mind.
So there it is....the things that I feel was really hard about being a mom. I hope that these things will eventually get easier... but in the meantime, I'll keep working at it. Its all I really can do. Keep working......... and keep drinking. Defiantly keep drinking.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Wanna REALLY piss me off?
Throw a sippy cup at my face while I'm playing on my phone.
As soon as I wake up..... I mean IMMEDIATLY..... Start demanding juice and Daniel Tiger.
Start screaming in the middle of the night, at the top of your lungs, for no reason.
Rub your stickey hands all over the window I just washed.
Ask me how to do something after I spent 15 minutes explaing how to do something
Tell me you will babysit then say your too tired
Make me chase your naked ass all over the house while you laugh and I hold back tears
Eat a new recipe I made and say "it's ok"
Ask me if there is any way I can tip toe any quieter
Make a comment about how our floors are a hot mess AFTER I mopped and swept
Tell me "no" when I ask if you wanna shotgun a beer with me
Put the coffee creamer back in the fride with 1/8 teaspoon left in the bottle
Ask me if I ate my placenta
Show me a picture of Channing Tatum and his wife kissing
Give me $10,000 in technology and don't let me use it cause it's broke
Tell me that you pooped your pants..... On purpose
Put a load of laundry in the washer and leave.... Forever
Try to compete with me on whose pregnancy was harder..... When your 16.
Ask me why I'm tired
Punch me in the nose then laugh hysterically
Allow me to step in dog poop, barefoot
Burp then blow it in my face
Ignore my text messages
Spray water in my face, blinding me, from the kitchen sink sprayer, for a solid 45 seconds until I just start to sob
Tell me your entire birth story
Throw a temper tantrum in the middle of a birthday party because I won't allow you to pee in the yard
Tell me that the fun at golf tournament is very similar to the fun that happens while tailgating in order to convince me to go..... Then give me (1) warm La Batts Blue and an apple.
Question my interior design style...... When your a man
Don't be at all sympathetic and understanding when I'm sick..... When your 4.
Ask me if I wanna order pizza after I just started a cleanse
Tell me it's not safe to eat cookie dough because there are raw eggs in it
Bad mouth Michael Jackson
Quiz me on my biblical knowledge
Give me 2nd place in the District Teacher of the Year contest and then fire the person who got 1st place for giving oral sex to a student
Loose the TV remote control
Make fun of me because I can't tell time when you can't use the correct version of "there and their"
As soon as I wake up..... I mean IMMEDIATLY..... Start demanding juice and Daniel Tiger.
Start screaming in the middle of the night, at the top of your lungs, for no reason.
Rub your stickey hands all over the window I just washed.
Ask me how to do something after I spent 15 minutes explaing how to do something
Tell me you will babysit then say your too tired
Make me chase your naked ass all over the house while you laugh and I hold back tears
Eat a new recipe I made and say "it's ok"
Ask me if there is any way I can tip toe any quieter
Make a comment about how our floors are a hot mess AFTER I mopped and swept
Tell me "no" when I ask if you wanna shotgun a beer with me
Put the coffee creamer back in the fride with 1/8 teaspoon left in the bottle
Ask me if I ate my placenta
Show me a picture of Channing Tatum and his wife kissing
Give me $10,000 in technology and don't let me use it cause it's broke
Tell me that you pooped your pants..... On purpose
Put a load of laundry in the washer and leave.... Forever
Try to compete with me on whose pregnancy was harder..... When your 16.
Ask me why I'm tired
Punch me in the nose then laugh hysterically
Allow me to step in dog poop, barefoot
Burp then blow it in my face
Ignore my text messages
Spray water in my face, blinding me, from the kitchen sink sprayer, for a solid 45 seconds until I just start to sob
Tell me your entire birth story
Throw a temper tantrum in the middle of a birthday party because I won't allow you to pee in the yard
Tell me that the fun at golf tournament is very similar to the fun that happens while tailgating in order to convince me to go..... Then give me (1) warm La Batts Blue and an apple.
Question my interior design style...... When your a man
Don't be at all sympathetic and understanding when I'm sick..... When your 4.
Ask me if I wanna order pizza after I just started a cleanse
Tell me it's not safe to eat cookie dough because there are raw eggs in it
Bad mouth Michael Jackson
Quiz me on my biblical knowledge
Give me 2nd place in the District Teacher of the Year contest and then fire the person who got 1st place for giving oral sex to a student
Loose the TV remote control
Make fun of me because I can't tell time when you can't use the correct version of "there and their"
Hey Jealousy.
Jealous: Adj. feeling resentment against someone because of that person's rivalry, success, or advantages
We've all been there. And if you haven't, your a big ole liar whose pants are on fire!
I've been jealous and I've had others jealous of me. Both situations totally suck.
Situation #1: When you are jealous
You see her. There she is. She's got it all put together. House, kids, husband, career, finances, style, friends, personality, mothering ability, beauty, faith, intelligence, health.
You see her and you hate yourself.
You see her and you hate her.
The feeling of jealousy hurts. It take everything out of you and all you do is focus on what you don't have, never will have, and question how SHE could possibly have it.
You think such ugliness about her and as a result, you yourself become uglier than you were before.
You glare at her, try to make her look bad at any chance you get, gossip about her to others, hope she fails, treat her like she's a nobody, make her feel stupid and embarrassed in public, ignore her.
You get soooo annoyed when other people praise her and you ALWAYS have a bitchy comeback just to make sure she gets knocked down a notch. You criticize EVERYTHING she does.....because she makes you miserable.
How does she do it?!?
She's got it so easy.
I wish I had the money to dress my kids in nothing but brand names. I wish I had matching outfits to dress them in, a different pair of shoes for Cece to go with every outfit, and dressed Leo in trendy, layered clothes, making him look dapper at the age of 4.
I wish I had her job because it's GOT to be better than mine and sure as hell must pay better.
I wish I had her genes..... naturally skinny and muscular. She has no idea what it's like to work your ass off at the gym (literally). Doubt she has ever counted calories or went to bed hungry, only to wake up in the middle of the night thinking about that ice cream in the freezer. I bet her thighs don't rub together when she walks and her size 8 is always available in every store. Oh, and I bet her boobs are amazing.
I wonder is she is on anti-depressants?
bahahahahahahaha
I wish I had friends like hers.... her and her friends always seem to be doing something fun. Spa days! Shopping trips! Winery! Trips! Concerts! I envy all the fun she has.
I wish I had her faith. I wish I was a regular at my church, on every committee and part of every group. I wish I kept God 1st in my life at all times, constantly worked with Him and made time for Him everyday like she does.
I wish my style was like hers. I bet she hired an interior decorator... cause these is no way in hell she's THAT creative. And as far as her wardrobe..... I bet she's never even heard of a FB auction site where you bid on used clothing or I bet she doesn't get as excited when Walmart has their fall clothes come out. I wish I knew what it felt like to wear $100 jeans, have 25+ pairs of shows, and rock a new winter coat every winter.
I bet her kids never get dirty or have dirt under their fingernails. I bet they never have pop, handfuls of chocolate chips, square Kraft cheese slices that are not real cheese, cookies for breakfast, or instant microwave mac and cheese for dinner twice in a week. I bet they read books every night, go to bed on time, sleep in their own beds, and do crafts together on the weekends. I bet she NEVER yells. Ever. I bet she doesn't spank her kids. I bet her kids have never told her they hated her or they are running away. I guarantee you she has never lost her shit in thecar van in the chick-fil-a parking lot.
I bet she doesn't stare at her cell phone for hours at night, instead of playing with her kids. I bet she doesn't FB, tweet, or Instagram because she's too busy for such nonsense.
I hate her. I hate her because I'm jealous of her. .Because I'm so insecure. Because I have a warped sense of reality. Because my expectations for life are not realistic. Because I've failed in certain areas of my life and she hasn't.
Is hating this woman unfair? Absolutely. I know NOTHING about the life she lives. Nothing. My jealousy has nothing at all to do with her. She is just an innocent by-standard.
"She" by the way doesn't even really exist.
"She" could be a combination of people I know very well and people who I see on the street. The constant comparing of me to "her" is exhausting.
You've been there, right? You do this too, right?
Damnit is annoying, isn't it?
Situation #2: Someone is jealous of you.
I think this sucks just as bad as feeling actual jealousy.
When people are jealous, its pretty obvious.
So... all you out there who are eaten up with jealously,..... your not foolin' anyone. Its obvious.
Jealous people are mean, bitchy, competitive, cold, weak, fake, and never (ever) happy.
When someone is jealous of you, you can sense it, can't you? Just by their body language, their tone, and their expressions.
When someone is jealous of you they do a great job of making you feel like a complete dumbass.
They say things like....
"You are crazy for getting up so early to work-out... hahah..... you are nuts."
or
"I cant believe you actually took time to do that!" or "I would never spend that much time on decorating my classroom. I have a life. haha"
They are amazing at giving "back handed compliments".
A "back handed compliment" is a compliment followed by a slap in the face.
Example:
"Your wedding ring is beautiful! I wish I got everything I wanted like you always do."
"You dress so nice. Appearances must be really important to you."
"Your house is always so clean! I wish I had OCD."
"You always have the coolest birthday party ideas for your kids! Who are you trying to impress?"
They ask you questions, but really don't expect an answer.
Example:
"You really care what you look like, don't you?"
"Wouldn't you rather spend time with your kids?
"You have a lot of free time, don't you?."
"Who do you dress up for everyday?"
"You seriously decorate your house for Fall? You're kidding, right?"
They assume things about you or make statements about you that are not true.
Like,
"She never eats anything good."
"She spends too much time and money at the gym."
"She is so self-absorbed."
"She is never home with her kids."
"She's just weird."
They try to ruin any success you experience... big or small.
Example:
"You won the "Teacher of the Year" award? That's great. I'm sure it's easy to win an award like that if you teach in a small school district."
"You have run in 3 half marathons? That's great. But, you didn't run the whole time did you? So, technically you cant say that you "ran 3 half marathon's,"
"It's so great that you were able to spend a couple days at the beach with your friends!! I could never leave my kids for that long. I'm too dedicated to them... but good for you for taking time for yourself!"
"Awe, How's Leo? I heard he has an earache. Poor little guy. I bet it's because you didn't breastfeed him."
They roll their eyes at you.
They make you feel inferior.
They ignore you.
They laugh at you.
They bring you down.
They are always "just kidding"
They always smile and give a little laugh after a comment that was made to hurt you.
They don't ever listen to you.
They never ask you questions about anything important.
So which situation have you ever experienced? Are you the jealous type? Or do you always seem to be on the receiving end of other peoples jealousy?
Well, I'm lucky.
I experience both.
All the time.
Jealous?
Jealousy is something I pray about all the time. If this is something you struggle with...... know you are not alone. Keep working at trying to overcome it. I will if you will.
xoxo
We've all been there. And if you haven't, your a big ole liar whose pants are on fire!
I've been jealous and I've had others jealous of me. Both situations totally suck.
Situation #1: When you are jealous
You see her. There she is. She's got it all put together. House, kids, husband, career, finances, style, friends, personality, mothering ability, beauty, faith, intelligence, health.
You see her and you hate yourself.
You see her and you hate her.
The feeling of jealousy hurts. It take everything out of you and all you do is focus on what you don't have, never will have, and question how SHE could possibly have it.
You think such ugliness about her and as a result, you yourself become uglier than you were before.
You glare at her, try to make her look bad at any chance you get, gossip about her to others, hope she fails, treat her like she's a nobody, make her feel stupid and embarrassed in public, ignore her.
You get soooo annoyed when other people praise her and you ALWAYS have a bitchy comeback just to make sure she gets knocked down a notch. You criticize EVERYTHING she does.....because she makes you miserable.
How does she do it?!?
She's got it so easy.
I wish I had the money to dress my kids in nothing but brand names. I wish I had matching outfits to dress them in, a different pair of shoes for Cece to go with every outfit, and dressed Leo in trendy, layered clothes, making him look dapper at the age of 4.
I wish I had her job because it's GOT to be better than mine and sure as hell must pay better.
I wish I had her genes..... naturally skinny and muscular. She has no idea what it's like to work your ass off at the gym (literally). Doubt she has ever counted calories or went to bed hungry, only to wake up in the middle of the night thinking about that ice cream in the freezer. I bet her thighs don't rub together when she walks and her size 8 is always available in every store. Oh, and I bet her boobs are amazing.
I wonder is she is on anti-depressants?
bahahahahahahaha
I wish I had friends like hers.... her and her friends always seem to be doing something fun. Spa days! Shopping trips! Winery! Trips! Concerts! I envy all the fun she has.
I wish I had her faith. I wish I was a regular at my church, on every committee and part of every group. I wish I kept God 1st in my life at all times, constantly worked with Him and made time for Him everyday like she does.
I wish my style was like hers. I bet she hired an interior decorator... cause these is no way in hell she's THAT creative. And as far as her wardrobe..... I bet she's never even heard of a FB auction site where you bid on used clothing or I bet she doesn't get as excited when Walmart has their fall clothes come out. I wish I knew what it felt like to wear $100 jeans, have 25+ pairs of shows, and rock a new winter coat every winter.
I bet her kids never get dirty or have dirt under their fingernails. I bet they never have pop, handfuls of chocolate chips, square Kraft cheese slices that are not real cheese, cookies for breakfast, or instant microwave mac and cheese for dinner twice in a week. I bet they read books every night, go to bed on time, sleep in their own beds, and do crafts together on the weekends. I bet she NEVER yells. Ever. I bet she doesn't spank her kids. I bet her kids have never told her they hated her or they are running away. I guarantee you she has never lost her shit in the
I bet she doesn't stare at her cell phone for hours at night, instead of playing with her kids. I bet she doesn't FB, tweet, or Instagram because she's too busy for such nonsense.
I hate her. I hate her because I'm jealous of her. .Because I'm so insecure. Because I have a warped sense of reality. Because my expectations for life are not realistic. Because I've failed in certain areas of my life and she hasn't.
Is hating this woman unfair? Absolutely. I know NOTHING about the life she lives. Nothing. My jealousy has nothing at all to do with her. She is just an innocent by-standard.
"She" by the way doesn't even really exist.
"She" could be a combination of people I know very well and people who I see on the street. The constant comparing of me to "her" is exhausting.
You've been there, right? You do this too, right?
Damnit is annoying, isn't it?
Situation #2: Someone is jealous of you.
I think this sucks just as bad as feeling actual jealousy.
When people are jealous, its pretty obvious.
So... all you out there who are eaten up with jealously,..... your not foolin' anyone. Its obvious.
Jealous people are mean, bitchy, competitive, cold, weak, fake, and never (ever) happy.
When someone is jealous of you, you can sense it, can't you? Just by their body language, their tone, and their expressions.
When someone is jealous of you they do a great job of making you feel like a complete dumbass.
They say things like....
"You are crazy for getting up so early to work-out... hahah..... you are nuts."
or
"I cant believe you actually took time to do that!" or "I would never spend that much time on decorating my classroom. I have a life. haha"
They are amazing at giving "back handed compliments".
A "back handed compliment" is a compliment followed by a slap in the face.
Example:
"Your wedding ring is beautiful! I wish I got everything I wanted like you always do."
"You dress so nice. Appearances must be really important to you."
"Your house is always so clean! I wish I had OCD."
"You always have the coolest birthday party ideas for your kids! Who are you trying to impress?"
They ask you questions, but really don't expect an answer.
Example:
"You really care what you look like, don't you?"
"Wouldn't you rather spend time with your kids?
"You have a lot of free time, don't you?."
"Who do you dress up for everyday?"
"You seriously decorate your house for Fall? You're kidding, right?"
They assume things about you or make statements about you that are not true.
Like,
"She never eats anything good."
"She spends too much time and money at the gym."
"She is so self-absorbed."
"She is never home with her kids."
"She's just weird."
They try to ruin any success you experience... big or small.
Example:
"You won the "Teacher of the Year" award? That's great. I'm sure it's easy to win an award like that if you teach in a small school district."
"You have run in 3 half marathons? That's great. But, you didn't run the whole time did you? So, technically you cant say that you "ran 3 half marathon's,"
"It's so great that you were able to spend a couple days at the beach with your friends!! I could never leave my kids for that long. I'm too dedicated to them... but good for you for taking time for yourself!"
"Awe, How's Leo? I heard he has an earache. Poor little guy. I bet it's because you didn't breastfeed him."
They roll their eyes at you.
They make you feel inferior.
They ignore you.
They laugh at you.
They bring you down.
They are always "just kidding"
They always smile and give a little laugh after a comment that was made to hurt you.
They don't ever listen to you.
They never ask you questions about anything important.
So which situation have you ever experienced? Are you the jealous type? Or do you always seem to be on the receiving end of other peoples jealousy?
Well, I'm lucky.
I experience both.
All the time.
Jealous?
Jealousy is something I pray about all the time. If this is something you struggle with...... know you are not alone. Keep working at trying to overcome it. I will if you will.
xoxo
Monday, September 21, 2015
Showed up and Showed out.
This weekend, God really showed up and showed out in my life.
That is one of my favorite sayings from when we used to live in South Carolina.
"God showed up and showed out"
I remember hearing this phrase for the first time and thinking, "Wow. I like that. It makes sense to me."
Because I have a strong faith, I know that God is always present in my life.... always.... but sometimes it's hard to see, feel, or sense His presence.
But then there are times when His presence is not questionable! These are the times when he "shows up and shows out". I experience this "showing out and showing up" twice last weekend.
Yesterday was a pretty normal Sunday for our family. We didn't have a lot planned and that was fantastic! By the time everyone got out of bed, we had decided that Leo and Toby were going to go to watch horse races in Delaware and Cece and I were going to spend the day together. Perfect!
As soon as this was decided, I looked at Cece and asked, "Do you want to go to church with me?"
Her eyes beamed at me and she squealed "YES!"
I was immediately excited for church. Normally, I am not. Normally I am stressed out, rushed, anxious, and hesitant.
To anyone who has ever had to get toddlers ready for church on Sunday morning, then I don't need to explain myself here.
But for those of you who are not yet blessed with this task, let me just tell you that sometimes it's easier to stay home.
For those of you who flawlessly get your children ready for church on Sunday morning, skip out the door, and drive off...... I envy you. I also question you.....
Anyway....
I was excited to go to church THIS morning, because I was only taking Cece.
Cece is my easy one.
Cece is my "go with the flow", "Ill try anything", "I just want to be with mommmy" one.
She has been like this since the day she was born. She was/is always happy to just "be there".
So, this Sunday, I flawlessly got Cece ready and we skipped out the door, and drove off. Seriously. We did. I'm telling you..... she's easy.
When we got to church, we did our normal routine, got situated, and the service started.
Cece makes my heart ache sometimes because she is just so darn sweet.
I watched her sing (loud) along with the music, not knowing ANY of the words. I watched her sway back and forth to the music. I watched her search the crowd for her BFF, Charlie. I watched her sit in her seat; feet kicking and dangling off her chair. I watched her sprint up front for the children's message, holding on tightly to her purse and Hello Kitty doll. I watched her look back at me during the children's message several times, scrunch up her shoulders, smile a HUGE grin so her eyes barely looked open, and wave the tinniest wave to me with her little hand.
And then I watched her do this....
The pastor said, "Let us pray" and as I bowed my head, folded my hands, and closed only one eye (the other was sneaking a peek at Cece off to my right) , God showed up and showed out.
What I saw Cece do stabbed me in the heart, caught my breath, and transformed my face into a sad puppy dog expression....
She was holding her Hello Kitty doll and her head was bowed. Her eyes were closed and she was (wait for it.......)
HOLDING HELLO KITTY'S HANDS IN A PRAYING FORMATION!
Be still my heart.
It was THE MOST precious sight I have truly ever witnessed.
At that moment, I felt God's presence more than I had in a long time.
The other situation where God showed up and showed out was on Saturday. I'm not going to mention where I was or what I was doing..... because it's not important.
But what God did for me in that moment was powerful, necessary, and was a reminder that He is always working on me, steering me away from sin, even when I feel ignored.
The situation involved gossip.
Gossip about a person.
Negative, degrading, embarrassing gossip.
It seemed like everyone was contributing to the gossip and it was a moment of conversation between people that was heavy and moving very fast. I had decent information that I COULD HAVE contributed to this conversation. I had "dirt" on this person as well, and I KNOW that if I added my "dirt" to this conversation it would defiantly turn heads. Bringing this information to the table would have made me stand out to the others involved. They would listen to me and I would feel more accepted and liked by the group.
I sat and listened to the conversation.... remembering that "dirt" that I had. Thinking to myself that this is the perfect opportunity to bring up the information I had.
But, something kept my mouth shut.
Something enabled me to find an opening in the conversation to speak up.
Something made my heart ache for the person who was the topic of the gossip.
Something made me think.
Not once.... but twice.
This conversation ended and the moment for me to contribute passed me by.
But, then the same conversation came up again about 2 hours later.
I had ANOTHER chance to add my salt to the wound of this persons dignity and confidence.
But, something kept my mouth shut.... again.
It was God... showing up and showing out.
Laying his hand on my shoulder and telling me to keep quiet.
I felt it and I listened to it and I obeyed it.
Could I have done more in this situation? Absolutely.
I could have stopped the conversation. I could have spoken up and shook my finger at the others involved and said "shame on you......".
I could have done that.... but I didn't.
And I'm OK with that because God told me to do what He knew I'd be comfortable doing.
Baby steps.
I'm not perfect. VERY far from it. I gossip all the time. More than I'd like to admit. It's like eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream.... I know I shouldn't..... I know it's bad for me.... I know I'll regret it.... yet I do it anyway.
God knows my struggles and He knows that "I'm working at it". I apologize everyday for all the wrongs I do and He hears me.
This was a situation where he showed up and showed out and worked with me on taking baby steps toward eventually fixing this sin... my sin.
Who knows when this will happen again..... God showing up and showing out.
Maybe not for awhile or maybe tomorrow at lunch. But whenever He decides to show up and show out, I'll feel it coming in loud and clear. I hope.
That is one of my favorite sayings from when we used to live in South Carolina.
"God showed up and showed out"
I remember hearing this phrase for the first time and thinking, "Wow. I like that. It makes sense to me."
Because I have a strong faith, I know that God is always present in my life.... always.... but sometimes it's hard to see, feel, or sense His presence.
But then there are times when His presence is not questionable! These are the times when he "shows up and shows out". I experience this "showing out and showing up" twice last weekend.
Yesterday was a pretty normal Sunday for our family. We didn't have a lot planned and that was fantastic! By the time everyone got out of bed, we had decided that Leo and Toby were going to go to watch horse races in Delaware and Cece and I were going to spend the day together. Perfect!
As soon as this was decided, I looked at Cece and asked, "Do you want to go to church with me?"
Her eyes beamed at me and she squealed "YES!"
I was immediately excited for church. Normally, I am not. Normally I am stressed out, rushed, anxious, and hesitant.
To anyone who has ever had to get toddlers ready for church on Sunday morning, then I don't need to explain myself here.
But for those of you who are not yet blessed with this task, let me just tell you that sometimes it's easier to stay home.
For those of you who flawlessly get your children ready for church on Sunday morning, skip out the door, and drive off...... I envy you. I also question you.....
Anyway....
I was excited to go to church THIS morning, because I was only taking Cece.
Cece is my easy one.
Cece is my "go with the flow", "Ill try anything", "I just want to be with mommmy" one.
She has been like this since the day she was born. She was/is always happy to just "be there".
So, this Sunday, I flawlessly got Cece ready and we skipped out the door, and drove off. Seriously. We did. I'm telling you..... she's easy.
When we got to church, we did our normal routine, got situated, and the service started.
Cece makes my heart ache sometimes because she is just so darn sweet.
I watched her sing (loud) along with the music, not knowing ANY of the words. I watched her sway back and forth to the music. I watched her search the crowd for her BFF, Charlie. I watched her sit in her seat; feet kicking and dangling off her chair. I watched her sprint up front for the children's message, holding on tightly to her purse and Hello Kitty doll. I watched her look back at me during the children's message several times, scrunch up her shoulders, smile a HUGE grin so her eyes barely looked open, and wave the tinniest wave to me with her little hand.
And then I watched her do this....
The pastor said, "Let us pray" and as I bowed my head, folded my hands, and closed only one eye (the other was sneaking a peek at Cece off to my right) , God showed up and showed out.
What I saw Cece do stabbed me in the heart, caught my breath, and transformed my face into a sad puppy dog expression....
She was holding her Hello Kitty doll and her head was bowed. Her eyes were closed and she was (wait for it.......)
HOLDING HELLO KITTY'S HANDS IN A PRAYING FORMATION!
Be still my heart.
It was THE MOST precious sight I have truly ever witnessed.
At that moment, I felt God's presence more than I had in a long time.
The other situation where God showed up and showed out was on Saturday. I'm not going to mention where I was or what I was doing..... because it's not important.
But what God did for me in that moment was powerful, necessary, and was a reminder that He is always working on me, steering me away from sin, even when I feel ignored.
The situation involved gossip.
Gossip about a person.
Negative, degrading, embarrassing gossip.
It seemed like everyone was contributing to the gossip and it was a moment of conversation between people that was heavy and moving very fast. I had decent information that I COULD HAVE contributed to this conversation. I had "dirt" on this person as well, and I KNOW that if I added my "dirt" to this conversation it would defiantly turn heads. Bringing this information to the table would have made me stand out to the others involved. They would listen to me and I would feel more accepted and liked by the group.
I sat and listened to the conversation.... remembering that "dirt" that I had. Thinking to myself that this is the perfect opportunity to bring up the information I had.
But, something kept my mouth shut.
Something enabled me to find an opening in the conversation to speak up.
Something made my heart ache for the person who was the topic of the gossip.
Something made me think.
Not once.... but twice.
This conversation ended and the moment for me to contribute passed me by.
But, then the same conversation came up again about 2 hours later.
I had ANOTHER chance to add my salt to the wound of this persons dignity and confidence.
But, something kept my mouth shut.... again.
It was God... showing up and showing out.
Laying his hand on my shoulder and telling me to keep quiet.
I felt it and I listened to it and I obeyed it.
Could I have done more in this situation? Absolutely.
I could have stopped the conversation. I could have spoken up and shook my finger at the others involved and said "shame on you......".
I could have done that.... but I didn't.
And I'm OK with that because God told me to do what He knew I'd be comfortable doing.
Baby steps.
I'm not perfect. VERY far from it. I gossip all the time. More than I'd like to admit. It's like eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream.... I know I shouldn't..... I know it's bad for me.... I know I'll regret it.... yet I do it anyway.
God knows my struggles and He knows that "I'm working at it". I apologize everyday for all the wrongs I do and He hears me.
This was a situation where he showed up and showed out and worked with me on taking baby steps toward eventually fixing this sin... my sin.
Who knows when this will happen again..... God showing up and showing out.
Maybe not for awhile or maybe tomorrow at lunch. But whenever He decides to show up and show out, I'll feel it coming in loud and clear. I hope.
Saturday, September 19, 2015
The Things You Say.
Leo is 4
Cece is 3
The things that they say are the highlight of my day!
I wish I could remember it all!!
Every hilarious word used incorrectly, every word pronounced wrong, every crazy question, every angry comment, every heart breaking statement, every sweet phrase.
There are so many times a day when one of them says something and I look around to see if anyone else heard what I did...... and I am the only adult in the room. THAT is frustrating because 95% of the time, I forget to share that moment with Toby or my mom or mother in law or the butcher.
I thought that I would attempt to jot down all the memorable things that Cece and Leo are saying or have said in the past 3 months.
I don't ever want to forget these and I'm sure they will find joy is reading this post someday and hopefully it will make them smile.
"Mom, I love you" (aboput every 20 min) - Cece Grace
"Mom, Your my best friend" - Cece Grace
"YOU'RE NOT MY BEST FEIEND ANYMORE!" (After she gets in trouble) -Cece Grace
"I love you so hard" - Cece Grace
"I super super love you" - Cece Grace
"Mom, don't ever go away" - Cece Grace
Will you seep with me?" - Cece Grace
Substituting the word "me" for "I" - Cece Grace (ex: "Me going to go to bed. Me tired.)
"Dance cass!!!" - Cece Grace
"I have the die-a-wee-a" - Cece Grace
"My butt is squishy" - Leo Beck
"Get all cuddy (cuddley) " - Cece Grace
"I don't believe it!" - Leo Beck when he gets in trouble
"Not again!" - Lero Beck when he gets in trouble
"That hurt my feelings"- Both of them
"Is it Mommy's Day? " - Both of them
"I wanna watch the bunny rabbit" - Leo Beck when referring to Bugs Bunny
"Hugh-ee-a-dew-ee" - Both of them when they call out for our "pet ducks" from the pond (Hewy, Dewy, and Louie)
"Holy Cow!" - Leo Beck
"Are you watching the man go down the hole?" - Both of them when referring to the Netflix show, "Prison Break"
"Im not Cecile! I'm Cece!" - Cece Grace
"Its mine! It says, "C-E-C-E"! - Cece Grace when Leo takes her stuff
"Did you bring a special treat?" - Both of them when I pick them up from school
"I sure do love you!" - Both of them
"Mommy, God did that!" - Both of them when they see a pink sky during a sunset
"We don't say, "Oh My God", we say "Oh My Gosh"- Both of them
"I'm telling Papa Ogle on you" - Leo Beck when I do something he doesn't like
My hope is that when I read through these in 15 years I will still be able to hear their little, sweet, unable to pronounce their "r's", innocent voices in my head!
Cece is 3
The things that they say are the highlight of my day!
I wish I could remember it all!!
Every hilarious word used incorrectly, every word pronounced wrong, every crazy question, every angry comment, every heart breaking statement, every sweet phrase.
There are so many times a day when one of them says something and I look around to see if anyone else heard what I did...... and I am the only adult in the room. THAT is frustrating because 95% of the time, I forget to share that moment with Toby or my mom or mother in law or the butcher.
I thought that I would attempt to jot down all the memorable things that Cece and Leo are saying or have said in the past 3 months.
I don't ever want to forget these and I'm sure they will find joy is reading this post someday and hopefully it will make them smile.
"Mom, I love you" (aboput every 20 min) - Cece Grace
"Mom, Your my best friend" - Cece Grace
"YOU'RE NOT MY BEST FEIEND ANYMORE!" (After she gets in trouble) -Cece Grace
"I love you so hard" - Cece Grace
"I super super love you" - Cece Grace
"Mom, don't ever go away" - Cece Grace
Will you seep with me?" - Cece Grace
Substituting the word "me" for "I" - Cece Grace (ex: "Me going to go to bed. Me tired.)
"Dance cass!!!" - Cece Grace
"I have the die-a-wee-a" - Cece Grace
"My butt is squishy" - Leo Beck
"Get all cuddy (cuddley) " - Cece Grace
"I don't believe it!" - Leo Beck when he gets in trouble
"Not again!" - Lero Beck when he gets in trouble
"That hurt my feelings"- Both of them
"Is it Mommy's Day? " - Both of them
"I wanna watch the bunny rabbit" - Leo Beck when referring to Bugs Bunny
"Hugh-ee-a-dew-ee" - Both of them when they call out for our "pet ducks" from the pond (Hewy, Dewy, and Louie)
"Holy Cow!" - Leo Beck
"Are you watching the man go down the hole?" - Both of them when referring to the Netflix show, "Prison Break"
"Im not Cecile! I'm Cece!" - Cece Grace
"Its mine! It says, "C-E-C-E"! - Cece Grace when Leo takes her stuff
"Did you bring a special treat?" - Both of them when I pick them up from school
"I sure do love you!" - Both of them
"Mommy, God did that!" - Both of them when they see a pink sky during a sunset
"We don't say, "Oh My God", we say "Oh My Gosh"- Both of them
"I'm telling Papa Ogle on you" - Leo Beck when I do something he doesn't like
My hope is that when I read through these in 15 years I will still be able to hear their little, sweet, unable to pronounce their "r's", innocent voices in my head!
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Confessions.
Cece grabbed my toothbrush the other day and put it in her mouth. I didn't freak out.
When Toby is not home I am a slacker mom. I skip baths, eat junk for dinner, and let the kids stay up too late.
I'm FINALLY (after 25 years) getting a tooth implant. We absolutely cannot afford this procedure. But Im doing it anyway. Im too damn old to be wearing a retainer.
Im newly addicted to the show "Naked and Afraid". At first it was the nakedness that attracted me.... but now it's the thrill of seeing if they will survive.
This is the 1st Presidential election I have ever been interested in. And its totally because of The Donald. My dad would flip out! I can hear him laughing now!
I might have taken Leo's sippy cup out of the dishwasher before I washed it and gave it to him to drink.
Cece may have had a wet diaper laying on her dresser for 8 hrs.
I get about 35% of my clothes off a FB site called "Classey Closet" and I LOVE it!
I have not used any form of soap for 2 months. (check out NORWEX!)
I put on perfume before I go to the gym just in case my deodorant ever stops working
I'm a professional at making plans and breaking them
I'm doing my 3rd half marathon next weekend.
I'm TERRIBLE with any type of number..... I can't make change, I can't tell time on a clock, I constantly forget how old I am or how many years I've been teaching, I can never remember the day and year of my kids birth, and I still count on my fingers to add. I blame this allllllllllll on my Jr High math teacher. He terrified me and forever made math something not fun for me.
I still hate driving a van.
Toby and I had to stop watching "Prison Break" on Netflix because I was starting to develop a massive crush on Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller)
And that's about all I can share at this point.....
When Toby is not home I am a slacker mom. I skip baths, eat junk for dinner, and let the kids stay up too late.
I'm FINALLY (after 25 years) getting a tooth implant. We absolutely cannot afford this procedure. But Im doing it anyway. Im too damn old to be wearing a retainer.
Im newly addicted to the show "Naked and Afraid". At first it was the nakedness that attracted me.... but now it's the thrill of seeing if they will survive.
This is the 1st Presidential election I have ever been interested in. And its totally because of The Donald. My dad would flip out! I can hear him laughing now!
I might have taken Leo's sippy cup out of the dishwasher before I washed it and gave it to him to drink.
Cece may have had a wet diaper laying on her dresser for 8 hrs.
I get about 35% of my clothes off a FB site called "Classey Closet" and I LOVE it!
I have not used any form of soap for 2 months. (check out NORWEX!)
I put on perfume before I go to the gym just in case my deodorant ever stops working
I'm a professional at making plans and breaking them
I'm doing my 3rd half marathon next weekend.
I'm TERRIBLE with any type of number..... I can't make change, I can't tell time on a clock, I constantly forget how old I am or how many years I've been teaching, I can never remember the day and year of my kids birth, and I still count on my fingers to add. I blame this allllllllllll on my Jr High math teacher. He terrified me and forever made math something not fun for me.
I still hate driving a van.
Toby and I had to stop watching "Prison Break" on Netflix because I was starting to develop a massive crush on Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller)
And that's about all I can share at this point.....
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Tried and Failed.
Have you ever tried SO HARD at something only to completely and totally fail at it?
Like, not even coming close to achieving what you were trying SO HARD to achieve?
This devastating situation happened to me a few days ago.
Here's what went down...
I get up early in the morning and go to the gym.
Like 4:40am early.
I realize that this is not normal, but "normal" is not what I am nor what I try to be.
Anyway, when my alarm goes off at 4:40am, I can't turn it off fast enough. Not only because I can't stand the terrifying and stressful sound of any type of alarm (one of my greatest fears), but also because it is my first attempt at trying sooooooo hard not to wake anyone up.
After I grab my phone, like a mouse trap slamming closed on a rat's tail, I immediately find the correct buttons to press (in total blindness) to stop the loud intro music to Kelly Clarkson's hit song, "Catch my Breath". Sometimes I am trying soooooo hard to be "quick like squirrel", that it actually makes me fumble around more and take longer than I would like. If Kelly gets to the 2nd verse, I know I've taken too long and there is a chance that at any second someone is gonna awake from their slumber.
If all goes as planned, then I am ready to start my decent from my bed.
I don't dare lay my phone back down on the nightstand table, for fear of it making a "thump" sound, so I keep it in my hand as I gently and gingerly slip my legs out from under the covers, careful not to move too quickly and wobble the mattress, or in a terrible situation, make a mattress spring sweak.
Once successfully out of the bed, I tippy toe, like a cat burglar, toward the bathroom door. In total darkness, I reach for the door handle and grasp my hand tightly around it.
I have found that the tighter I hold the handle, the less noise it makes when I turn it.
I s-llll-o-w-l-y turn the handle to the left just the tiniest bit, enough to unlatch the door from the door jam.
I don't dare let go of the handle because that (of course) would make some sort of sound and I'm sure someone would suddenly sit straight up in bed........ like Dracula in his coffin.
I keep my hand (still very tightly) on the handle and s-lllll-o-w-l-y lower the handle back down to its original position.
The door at this point is opened just enough to allow me to slide into the bathroom sideways, sucking in my stomach, holding my breath, and turning my face in the opposite direction so my nose doesn't get bumped.
When my bare feet feel the chill of the bathroom floor, I know I have done well.
The process of slipping my hand back out the door to reach around the corner and flip on the light switch is relatively easy and sound-less.....
unless you accidently flip on the bathroom fan instead of the light and all hell breaks loose and the dog thinks the garage door just opened.
I continue to put my contacts in, brush my teeth, get dressed (in my attire that has been previously planned and laid out neatly by the bathroom sink the night before), brush my hair and pull it back, put on deodorant, and put on my shoes........ all in slow, steady movements.
I make sure the water is on just a tiny trickle so it doesn't sound like the ocean tide is coming in.
I try to slip out of and into my clothes literally one toe at a time.
I open the drawers and cabinets slowly, silently, and with caution, and I never, I repeat NEVER, flush the toilet.
That would be suicide.
Once finished, I start my decent out into the wild....... and toward the kitchen.
I exit the bathroom the same way I entered. I pay close attention to every step I take from this point on..... making sure my tennis shoes do not squeak on the hard wood floor.
I creep like a band student in a parade...heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe..... all the way to the kitchen.
At this point I have to tackle the task of feeding the dog.
In the dark.
In silence.
Deep breath... this one is a toughie.
This act includes the following actions: opening the fridge, taking out dog food and medicine, opening cabinet to get dog food plate, opening silverware drawer to get a fork, scooping out and mashing up disgusting vomit-like dog food, opening another cabinet and getting medicine dropper, sucking up medicine into device, injecting the medicine into mashed up vomit like dog food, putting lid back on the dog food, opening the fridge door, putting food and medicine back, (I usually grab my water bottle for the gym at this point because there is no way I am opening the fridge door for the 3rd time because THAT would wake the neighbors. )
Once breakfast for queen Gertrude is prepared and all supplies are place back in their proper location, I band-walk back to the bathroom and ever so gingerly lay the dish down on the floor.
Still in darkness.
Still in silence.
I practically army crawl to the garage door, grasp the doorknob in my hand, turn s-llll-o-w-l-y, pull with force cause the door sticks, cringe as I open it cause there is no way to avoid making some sort of noise with this activity.
Sometimes I open the door slowly and sometimes I whip it open like one would rip off a band aid, fast and pain(noise)less.
At this point, I'm in the clear to make a little more noise.
The stress of waking a sleeping giant (or giants in this situation) is over and I have made it out alive.
Now its time to get in the van, head to the gym, get my heart rate up (and try not to vomit if it is a cardio day) for the next 45 min, drive home, exit the van, and proceed to enter the still dark, still sleeping house with careful, quiet, thoughtful moves until I am safe inside the shower.
Its a lot of work to be super quite in the morning.
I really, genuinely try VERY hard to make as little sounds as possible.
When I got home from work the other day someone (who shall remain nameless) said this:
A blank stare came across my face.
I think I stopped breathing.
And then I lost my sh*t.
NOTHING is more frustrating that trying your absolute hardest at something, only to find out that you are not succeeding.
If this has happened to you or is currently happening to you... know you are not alone......... and it's OK if you have a nervous breakdown over it.
Like, not even coming close to achieving what you were trying SO HARD to achieve?
This devastating situation happened to me a few days ago.
Here's what went down...
I get up early in the morning and go to the gym.
Like 4:40am early.
I realize that this is not normal, but "normal" is not what I am nor what I try to be.
Anyway, when my alarm goes off at 4:40am, I can't turn it off fast enough. Not only because I can't stand the terrifying and stressful sound of any type of alarm (one of my greatest fears), but also because it is my first attempt at trying sooooooo hard not to wake anyone up.
After I grab my phone, like a mouse trap slamming closed on a rat's tail, I immediately find the correct buttons to press (in total blindness) to stop the loud intro music to Kelly Clarkson's hit song, "Catch my Breath". Sometimes I am trying soooooo hard to be "quick like squirrel", that it actually makes me fumble around more and take longer than I would like. If Kelly gets to the 2nd verse, I know I've taken too long and there is a chance that at any second someone is gonna awake from their slumber.
If all goes as planned, then I am ready to start my decent from my bed.
I don't dare lay my phone back down on the nightstand table, for fear of it making a "thump" sound, so I keep it in my hand as I gently and gingerly slip my legs out from under the covers, careful not to move too quickly and wobble the mattress, or in a terrible situation, make a mattress spring sweak.
Once successfully out of the bed, I tippy toe, like a cat burglar, toward the bathroom door. In total darkness, I reach for the door handle and grasp my hand tightly around it.
I have found that the tighter I hold the handle, the less noise it makes when I turn it.
I s-llll-o-w-l-y turn the handle to the left just the tiniest bit, enough to unlatch the door from the door jam.
I don't dare let go of the handle because that (of course) would make some sort of sound and I'm sure someone would suddenly sit straight up in bed........ like Dracula in his coffin.
I keep my hand (still very tightly) on the handle and s-lllll-o-w-l-y lower the handle back down to its original position.
The door at this point is opened just enough to allow me to slide into the bathroom sideways, sucking in my stomach, holding my breath, and turning my face in the opposite direction so my nose doesn't get bumped.
When my bare feet feel the chill of the bathroom floor, I know I have done well.
The process of slipping my hand back out the door to reach around the corner and flip on the light switch is relatively easy and sound-less.....
unless you accidently flip on the bathroom fan instead of the light and all hell breaks loose and the dog thinks the garage door just opened.
I continue to put my contacts in, brush my teeth, get dressed (in my attire that has been previously planned and laid out neatly by the bathroom sink the night before), brush my hair and pull it back, put on deodorant, and put on my shoes........ all in slow, steady movements.
I make sure the water is on just a tiny trickle so it doesn't sound like the ocean tide is coming in.
I try to slip out of and into my clothes literally one toe at a time.
I open the drawers and cabinets slowly, silently, and with caution, and I never, I repeat NEVER, flush the toilet.
That would be suicide.
Once finished, I start my decent out into the wild....... and toward the kitchen.
I exit the bathroom the same way I entered. I pay close attention to every step I take from this point on..... making sure my tennis shoes do not squeak on the hard wood floor.
I creep like a band student in a parade...heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe..... all the way to the kitchen.
At this point I have to tackle the task of feeding the dog.
In the dark.
In silence.
Deep breath... this one is a toughie.
This act includes the following actions: opening the fridge, taking out dog food and medicine, opening cabinet to get dog food plate, opening silverware drawer to get a fork, scooping out and mashing up disgusting vomit-like dog food, opening another cabinet and getting medicine dropper, sucking up medicine into device, injecting the medicine into mashed up vomit like dog food, putting lid back on the dog food, opening the fridge door, putting food and medicine back, (I usually grab my water bottle for the gym at this point because there is no way I am opening the fridge door for the 3rd time because THAT would wake the neighbors. )
Once breakfast for queen Gertrude is prepared and all supplies are place back in their proper location, I band-walk back to the bathroom and ever so gingerly lay the dish down on the floor.
Still in darkness.
Still in silence.
I practically army crawl to the garage door, grasp the doorknob in my hand, turn s-llll-o-w-l-y, pull with force cause the door sticks, cringe as I open it cause there is no way to avoid making some sort of noise with this activity.
Sometimes I open the door slowly and sometimes I whip it open like one would rip off a band aid, fast and pain(noise)less.
At this point, I'm in the clear to make a little more noise.
The stress of waking a sleeping giant (or giants in this situation) is over and I have made it out alive.
Now its time to get in the van, head to the gym, get my heart rate up (and try not to vomit if it is a cardio day) for the next 45 min, drive home, exit the van, and proceed to enter the still dark, still sleeping house with careful, quiet, thoughtful moves until I am safe inside the shower.
Its a lot of work to be super quite in the morning.
I really, genuinely try VERY hard to make as little sounds as possible.
When I got home from work the other day someone (who shall remain nameless) said this:
"Do you think you could be just a little quieter in the morning before you go to the gym?"
A blank stare came across my face.
I think I stopped breathing.
And then I lost my sh*t.
NOTHING is more frustrating that trying your absolute hardest at something, only to find out that you are not succeeding.
If this has happened to you or is currently happening to you... know you are not alone......... and it's OK if you have a nervous breakdown over it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)