Well, it is about 7 weeks from the 3 year mark of rescuing Thorp from the shackles of being a breeding dog in an Amish puppy mill in northwest WI. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It is burned into my brain like no other memory I have.
Amidst hundreds of dogs – all of whom had horrible fates – this one little dog, the oldest, ugliest, maybe sickest of the lot, looked into my eyes and I could feel my soul open up. For a mere $65.00 I took him home and so started a journey that changed my life.
It has taken almost all of that time to help Thorp adapt to being a “free” dog. But yesterday, yesterday, all of that changed and Thorp became what he was meant to be all along: a therapy dog!
He, actually, earned his certification last year – but finding him a job proved to be just as hard as it is for the rest of the American people – even though he was willing to work for free. The Woodstock school system turned him down and the local library said its past “read to the dog” program had failed. So, Thorp found a way to live unemployed – I suppose we acted like the US government and allowed him to live for free.
Anyway, fate steps in when you least expect it and while my parents were in town – they took us to dinner where we met friends of theirs from Florida as well as their daughter who lives here in IL. She works as a teacher at a special needs school right in Woodstock. After thinking about it later – I texted her the possibility of Thorp working at her school. She loved the idea and immediately put me in touch with the principal!
Yesterday, Thorp had his interview – and like anyone on an interview – he was a bit nervous and I was a bit nervous (that he would lift his leg and pee on the cafeteria table or the library book shelf) but the principal loved him – most of the staff loved him and they “hired” him on the spot – especially after they heard he worked for free!
It was momentous day for both Thorp and me. In the last three years we have both fought a hard battle. I faced things I never really thought I would see in my lifetime and Thorp grew in ways I only imagined on that day I rescued him.
Yesterday serves as confirmation that there are times when fate and hope intersect – when something in your heart speaks to you – when your soul feels alive – and you impulsively act on it because you just feel like you have to. Common sense and reason don’t play a part in this chance occurrence – you just know to trust it.
That is what happened on March 12, 2008 for me and for Thorp. Our lives crossed and both of us are better creatures because of it. Thorp was meant to do this kind of work and I can only hope that the lives we touch now are just as positively affected.
*On a side note – it is important to mention that this story also proves the age old saying, “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know and thanks to Mary we had an in!”*
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Truths: When determination matters
Do It Anyway
People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough; Give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.
Mother Teresa
So, the above quote inspired me – so much that I asked for a framed print of it for my 40th birthday… Okay, I ordered it for myself. I thought it was the perfect mantra for turning 40 and realizing that my life was my own and that I should pursue things that matter to me regardless of what other people think or what might happen or even if someone destroys my work later.
The quote may infer that I believe in religion and well, I don’t necessarily. I do believe that there is a GOD, a being of sorts that we do answer to when everything is said and done – that being good does make a difference in this life. I just don’t need a book or a church to tell me that.
Well, we came home from Jamaica and I decided it was time to hang the picture that came right before I left (it was backordered until after January – I ordered it in November – apparently – a lot of people felt it was the kind of quote that should hang on their wall).
I moved around some other artwork to make room and when I went to hang the picture – well, disgusting as this is – the cat (who knows which one – none of them will tell me) peed on it! And, no it wasn’t just on the glass or the frame – it had seeped inside and ruined the whole thing.
Deflated and disheartened, I sighed. My mantra was destroyed.
Being the intuitive that I am – I had to quietly question the picture’s fate. Was this some sign that I should pick another quote – more like the one I was actually given for my birthday as a gift, “Yoga, Gardening, Bubble Baths, Medication and still I want to smack somebody.”
Fitting as that one is for me – it isn’t the way I want to live my life… No, this quote spoke to me and damn it – no cat was going to take that way!
While a part of me didn’t want to tell Bill (he already despises the cats) I was so crushed I had to share my unhappiness. He, of course, cursed the cats and then said he would be happy to get me another one.
I just ordered it… and lo and behold – it is on backorder again until February! People REALLY want to live by this mantra!!
I guess the thing is – I could have said to Hell with it and chalked it up to a lesson learned, “Don’t leave important things laying around for the cats to pee on… But, it meant something to me – and that made me want to go through the efforts and the money to get it again.
I know it is just a quote, just a quote on a piece of paper that is elegantly framed – I could just print the quote out and hang it on my bulletin board… But, I want it to be for everyone to see – because I think it is something that says a lot about who I am…and who I want to be – and maybe how I wish everyone was.
I was determined to make this happen.
Today also marks my long awaited… (really my unflailing procrastination) day to get back to my writing…my novel…my dream.
Some of you might recall that the last time I decided to get back on this train… my computer exploded and well, all of that was the perfect gateway to postponing doing any writing… Then, there was the house mishaps with all the appliances and the water problems and then there was Christmas… and well, there is always something.
And, I envisioned all along sitting down to my perfectly appointed office – everything organized and clean – the sun shining and me not having a care in the world – other than writing for the day.
Hah!
One of the other birthday gifts I got from my best friend, Kelly, was the book, “Stephen King – On Writing,” by Stephen King. For a writer, I think the book is amazing. Stephen King is hilarious and really just says it like it is and finds way to help you along the way. But, there was one quote in there:
“It is, after all, the dab of grit that seeps into an oyster’s shell that makes the pearl…”
He explains that it is the other things going on in your life that allow you take necessary breaks from your writing so that you can come back to it with fresh eyes and new perspectives. In other words, there is no perfect time to write. You just have to write, damn it!
The book is what I needed. While my life is just as busy as it always is and my office is cluttered and somewhat unkempt – I am writing today because it is time – no more excuses.
Every time I start to picture myself working on my novel – I get anxious. It’s this mix of excitement and desire and this fear of failing. And then today – as I tossed and turned in bed thinking about how the day would go – I realized that my anxiety was no different than when you start a job for the first time. The unknowing of what lies ahead and how the day will go and how hard the work will be.
People joke about being a writer and ask, “Well, what do you really do?” I understand that it is hard to take unpublished writers as serious professionals (though I have been paid to write stories before) but my determination comes down to my new mantra, “It was never between me and them anyway.”
People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough; Give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.
Mother Teresa
So, the above quote inspired me – so much that I asked for a framed print of it for my 40th birthday… Okay, I ordered it for myself. I thought it was the perfect mantra for turning 40 and realizing that my life was my own and that I should pursue things that matter to me regardless of what other people think or what might happen or even if someone destroys my work later.
The quote may infer that I believe in religion and well, I don’t necessarily. I do believe that there is a GOD, a being of sorts that we do answer to when everything is said and done – that being good does make a difference in this life. I just don’t need a book or a church to tell me that.
Well, we came home from Jamaica and I decided it was time to hang the picture that came right before I left (it was backordered until after January – I ordered it in November – apparently – a lot of people felt it was the kind of quote that should hang on their wall).
I moved around some other artwork to make room and when I went to hang the picture – well, disgusting as this is – the cat (who knows which one – none of them will tell me) peed on it! And, no it wasn’t just on the glass or the frame – it had seeped inside and ruined the whole thing.
Deflated and disheartened, I sighed. My mantra was destroyed.
Being the intuitive that I am – I had to quietly question the picture’s fate. Was this some sign that I should pick another quote – more like the one I was actually given for my birthday as a gift, “Yoga, Gardening, Bubble Baths, Medication and still I want to smack somebody.”
Fitting as that one is for me – it isn’t the way I want to live my life… No, this quote spoke to me and damn it – no cat was going to take that way!
While a part of me didn’t want to tell Bill (he already despises the cats) I was so crushed I had to share my unhappiness. He, of course, cursed the cats and then said he would be happy to get me another one.
I just ordered it… and lo and behold – it is on backorder again until February! People REALLY want to live by this mantra!!
I guess the thing is – I could have said to Hell with it and chalked it up to a lesson learned, “Don’t leave important things laying around for the cats to pee on… But, it meant something to me – and that made me want to go through the efforts and the money to get it again.
I know it is just a quote, just a quote on a piece of paper that is elegantly framed – I could just print the quote out and hang it on my bulletin board… But, I want it to be for everyone to see – because I think it is something that says a lot about who I am…and who I want to be – and maybe how I wish everyone was.
I was determined to make this happen.
Today also marks my long awaited… (really my unflailing procrastination) day to get back to my writing…my novel…my dream.
Some of you might recall that the last time I decided to get back on this train… my computer exploded and well, all of that was the perfect gateway to postponing doing any writing… Then, there was the house mishaps with all the appliances and the water problems and then there was Christmas… and well, there is always something.
And, I envisioned all along sitting down to my perfectly appointed office – everything organized and clean – the sun shining and me not having a care in the world – other than writing for the day.
Hah!
One of the other birthday gifts I got from my best friend, Kelly, was the book, “Stephen King – On Writing,” by Stephen King. For a writer, I think the book is amazing. Stephen King is hilarious and really just says it like it is and finds way to help you along the way. But, there was one quote in there:
“It is, after all, the dab of grit that seeps into an oyster’s shell that makes the pearl…”
He explains that it is the other things going on in your life that allow you take necessary breaks from your writing so that you can come back to it with fresh eyes and new perspectives. In other words, there is no perfect time to write. You just have to write, damn it!
The book is what I needed. While my life is just as busy as it always is and my office is cluttered and somewhat unkempt – I am writing today because it is time – no more excuses.
Every time I start to picture myself working on my novel – I get anxious. It’s this mix of excitement and desire and this fear of failing. And then today – as I tossed and turned in bed thinking about how the day would go – I realized that my anxiety was no different than when you start a job for the first time. The unknowing of what lies ahead and how the day will go and how hard the work will be.
People joke about being a writer and ask, “Well, what do you really do?” I understand that it is hard to take unpublished writers as serious professionals (though I have been paid to write stories before) but my determination comes down to my new mantra, “It was never between me and them anyway.”
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Truths and a bit of Tails: Unexpected Revelations
So, Bill and I just got back from 6 days in Jamaica with my closest friend, Delreen and her husband, Tim. (I know - poor me.)
We had an incredible time… It was the first that we went anywhere as couples and I think it all went well. That is never an easy thing to estimate – while two women can be the best of friends – what happens between their husbands isn’t always as fortunate.
But, at least from our end, we really enjoyed being together and Bill likes Tim (not that way of course…)
We stayed at an all-inclusive, which means our glasses never went empty and our stomachs were always full. And, most importantly – the conversation never stopped and the laughter was uncontainable.
I have to mention the first night – because while it was VERY memorable to the other three – I have absolutely no recollection of it!
After a long day of travel – we road a bus to the hotel… Okay let’s start with the plane ride where I enjoyed 4 Bloody Marys.. then the bus trip where I gulped down three rum and Cokes and somewhere between meeting Delreen and Tim on the beach and waking up the next morning – I have no idea of how much I drank.
I am not proud of myself – but the story is funny enough that it bears repeating. Apparently, we went to dinner that night and while we were up making our salads at the buffet… I wandered off onto the beach with my plate in hand. Tim noticed me (of course it wasn’t my own husband) and nudged Bill to go escort me back to the table before I found myself swimming with my salad in the ocean.
The next morning is where it gets really funny…. As we sat on the beach talking… and for me, catching up – It became more and more painfully obvious that I had drank way too much. For every topic I brought up – Delreen, or Tim, or Bill would say with a chuckle, “We talked about that last night!”
For me, it was all brand new conversation!
No night was quite like that again..but we did some bootie shaking and some shots and jumped off cliffs (the small ones) and you get the idea…
BUT, somewhere between bellying (and my belly sure seems bigger now) up to the swim up pool bar and lazily sipping fruity drinks in a chaise on the beach – a few things sparked insight. (This is a sure sign that I am aging because never before would I have found insight between boozing it up and basking in the sun)
The night we chose to seek an adrenalin rush and jump off cliffs (okay, we watched people jump off the cliffs – we chose to jump in from a small observation deck) I couldn’t help but notice something so humbling and heart wrenching.
On one side of the cliffs stands an exclusive bar – one of the ten best in the world (or so they say). Drinks and food and bands and the most breathtaking sunset. On the other side of the cliff - separated by a chain link fence is a barren park where the kids of Jamaica hang out and show the rest of us how skilled they are at both climbing the rocks (they don’t have a brick walkway like we do) and diving into the water. Sometimes doing handstands on the edge – back flips, you name it. These kids are as good as any I have seen earn gold in the Olympics.
But as “we” stood in our new bathing suits with matching cover-ups – sipping cocktails and throwing out leftover food – these kids swam in their clothes and dried off by the sun – not towels… Surely no drinks or food.
It would be hard for anyone with a sensitive soul not to notice the poetic irony of the landscape for it was not only a fence that divided us – but a cove of water – they on one side and us on the other. We were all there with the same intent – but beyond a bay of water was a whole lot more that divided us.
This revelation hit me again as we drove back to the airport and were able to really take in the Jamaican culture. You know not just the pretty beach and the reggae bands… The places where people actually live and work. Most of these people live in what I would consider poverty. We saw our share of people eating out of garbage cans and walking the stone roads without shoes – wearing nothing but a ragged old pair of shorts and a dirty plastic bag around their waist.
It is hard to grasp at times – the life these people live.
And, being who I am – it is indicative that I will survey the countryside for stray dogs and cats; fearing the worst – that they will be tied up and starving.
But they weren’t. I mean they probably don’t sleep in fuzzy beds or have a basket full of toys at their discretion but their tails were wagging and they looked well fed – or at least fed.
There were only a handful that actually seemed to be “roaming.” The rest were lying next to a group of people – I assume being the family dog.
And that is when true revelation struck. Here I was in a country that at times seems third world: impoverished, desolate, depressed… and yet, their dogs seem well- cared for. Living just as good as the people themselves. It is all relevant.
Passing the shacks and the run down cars – I couldn’t help but think of my own country. This place that is supposed to be wealthy and full of opportunity. Where the majority of people live in houses with adequate amenities – drive in cars and don’t walk barefoot to the nearest store with their only hope being able to buy food for their family – if they have the money today.
We are what they call a civilized society and yet, just days before I left on vacation I spoke with the director of a local dog rescue who told me that they were called in on a case where a woman who ran a grooming facility had knowingly starved over 20 dogs. Just left them in cages without food or water for who knows how long. The irony is that there were bins of food next to the cages.
This happened in a fairly well off town… and the woman had money.
And of course there is my greatest passion: puppy mills. As a country we allow people to shove dogs in cages and breed them until they can breed no more – and it takes years of legislation to make it an illegal practice.
And we are the civilized society? The wealthy, forward thinking country?
Besides enjoying the sun and the bottomless cocktails, I was given the gift of humility and the opportunity for gratitude and still the painful awareness that the country I live in, where freedom reigns and democracy thrives has yet, so much to left to do to become a place that embraces humanity and compassion.
We had an incredible time… It was the first that we went anywhere as couples and I think it all went well. That is never an easy thing to estimate – while two women can be the best of friends – what happens between their husbands isn’t always as fortunate.
But, at least from our end, we really enjoyed being together and Bill likes Tim (not that way of course…)
We stayed at an all-inclusive, which means our glasses never went empty and our stomachs were always full. And, most importantly – the conversation never stopped and the laughter was uncontainable.
I have to mention the first night – because while it was VERY memorable to the other three – I have absolutely no recollection of it!
After a long day of travel – we road a bus to the hotel… Okay let’s start with the plane ride where I enjoyed 4 Bloody Marys.. then the bus trip where I gulped down three rum and Cokes and somewhere between meeting Delreen and Tim on the beach and waking up the next morning – I have no idea of how much I drank.
I am not proud of myself – but the story is funny enough that it bears repeating. Apparently, we went to dinner that night and while we were up making our salads at the buffet… I wandered off onto the beach with my plate in hand. Tim noticed me (of course it wasn’t my own husband) and nudged Bill to go escort me back to the table before I found myself swimming with my salad in the ocean.
The next morning is where it gets really funny…. As we sat on the beach talking… and for me, catching up – It became more and more painfully obvious that I had drank way too much. For every topic I brought up – Delreen, or Tim, or Bill would say with a chuckle, “We talked about that last night!”
For me, it was all brand new conversation!
No night was quite like that again..but we did some bootie shaking and some shots and jumped off cliffs (the small ones) and you get the idea…
BUT, somewhere between bellying (and my belly sure seems bigger now) up to the swim up pool bar and lazily sipping fruity drinks in a chaise on the beach – a few things sparked insight. (This is a sure sign that I am aging because never before would I have found insight between boozing it up and basking in the sun)
The night we chose to seek an adrenalin rush and jump off cliffs (okay, we watched people jump off the cliffs – we chose to jump in from a small observation deck) I couldn’t help but notice something so humbling and heart wrenching.
On one side of the cliffs stands an exclusive bar – one of the ten best in the world (or so they say). Drinks and food and bands and the most breathtaking sunset. On the other side of the cliff - separated by a chain link fence is a barren park where the kids of Jamaica hang out and show the rest of us how skilled they are at both climbing the rocks (they don’t have a brick walkway like we do) and diving into the water. Sometimes doing handstands on the edge – back flips, you name it. These kids are as good as any I have seen earn gold in the Olympics.
But as “we” stood in our new bathing suits with matching cover-ups – sipping cocktails and throwing out leftover food – these kids swam in their clothes and dried off by the sun – not towels… Surely no drinks or food.
It would be hard for anyone with a sensitive soul not to notice the poetic irony of the landscape for it was not only a fence that divided us – but a cove of water – they on one side and us on the other. We were all there with the same intent – but beyond a bay of water was a whole lot more that divided us.
This revelation hit me again as we drove back to the airport and were able to really take in the Jamaican culture. You know not just the pretty beach and the reggae bands… The places where people actually live and work. Most of these people live in what I would consider poverty. We saw our share of people eating out of garbage cans and walking the stone roads without shoes – wearing nothing but a ragged old pair of shorts and a dirty plastic bag around their waist.
It is hard to grasp at times – the life these people live.
And, being who I am – it is indicative that I will survey the countryside for stray dogs and cats; fearing the worst – that they will be tied up and starving.
But they weren’t. I mean they probably don’t sleep in fuzzy beds or have a basket full of toys at their discretion but their tails were wagging and they looked well fed – or at least fed.
There were only a handful that actually seemed to be “roaming.” The rest were lying next to a group of people – I assume being the family dog.
And that is when true revelation struck. Here I was in a country that at times seems third world: impoverished, desolate, depressed… and yet, their dogs seem well- cared for. Living just as good as the people themselves. It is all relevant.
Passing the shacks and the run down cars – I couldn’t help but think of my own country. This place that is supposed to be wealthy and full of opportunity. Where the majority of people live in houses with adequate amenities – drive in cars and don’t walk barefoot to the nearest store with their only hope being able to buy food for their family – if they have the money today.
We are what they call a civilized society and yet, just days before I left on vacation I spoke with the director of a local dog rescue who told me that they were called in on a case where a woman who ran a grooming facility had knowingly starved over 20 dogs. Just left them in cages without food or water for who knows how long. The irony is that there were bins of food next to the cages.
This happened in a fairly well off town… and the woman had money.
And of course there is my greatest passion: puppy mills. As a country we allow people to shove dogs in cages and breed them until they can breed no more – and it takes years of legislation to make it an illegal practice.
And we are the civilized society? The wealthy, forward thinking country?
Besides enjoying the sun and the bottomless cocktails, I was given the gift of humility and the opportunity for gratitude and still the painful awareness that the country I live in, where freedom reigns and democracy thrives has yet, so much to left to do to become a place that embraces humanity and compassion.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Truths: When hormones win
Sure, the title could easily suggest that I am suffering from menopause…again. That my hormones are raging and I never know if I am going to lash out or cry – if I am going to sweat like a pig or shiver from the cold that radiates my body whenever feels like it…
But no, this is not about me… it is about my 12 year old daughter. I swear that someone was feeling nasty when they decided that a pre-menopausal woman should have a pre-adolescent girl at the same time. What kind of sick person comes up with this?
We are either screaming at each other – or criticizing one another – or in those rare moments – actually getting along.
But last night – Abby had a meltdown and it broke my heart. (Luckily, I wasn’t having a hot flash or a surge of irrational thoughts at the same time.)
She couldn’t figure out her homework and was really struggling and that is when the tears came. All of a sudden she starting crying that she can’t do anything right and that she hates school because she doesn’t have anyone to talk to and her closest friends are getting new friends… and well, it was all I could do to not cry myself.
While I know her life is not that bad – I can remember what it was like to be in 6th grade… The pressure of having friends and thinking about boys and starting to worry about what you wear and what you say… all while hormones are racing through your body like a day of NASCAR.
I hated late night feedings and couldn’t wait for the tantrums to stop or the walking to begin… but last night – all I wished for was just that. To be in my baby’s room – rocking her to sleep and not holding my adolescent child in my arms as she bauled her eyes out because life was getting too hard.
I know I can’t protect her from the evils of life – the hurt she will endure and the heartache she will face. And, that was all I could think about when I tried to fall asleep.
What am I supposed to do? I really never felt so helpless as a parent.
In my case, I want my child to have the fun I did in Jr. High – to go to the dances and be a part of student council and pass notes (or texts - I guess now)… Sure, I cried… sometimes a lot – over a friend or a boy or both… But how do you express that all of that is so small compared to the rest of life without diminishing how important it is to them right now?
She felt a little better this morning but I could tell she was dreading the day ahead. I can’t help but wonder what her day is like – is she having a hard time making friends? Is she struggling academically? (even though she made high honor roll?) Or is most of it a result of the hormones taking over?
I want to be a good mom – to make her feel confident – to have high self esteem – most of all – I want her to be happy – to look back on these years and not remember only tears – but the fun she had and the friends she made.
I wish they had a bouncy seat or a baby swing for teens – to help soothe them – when they cry – some magic wand to take away the pain and give them back their smiles.
All I do know is that hormones are kicking our ass in this house… The score is them: 100 us: 0… When will the game be over? Or at the very least – when does the half time show start??
But no, this is not about me… it is about my 12 year old daughter. I swear that someone was feeling nasty when they decided that a pre-menopausal woman should have a pre-adolescent girl at the same time. What kind of sick person comes up with this?
We are either screaming at each other – or criticizing one another – or in those rare moments – actually getting along.
But last night – Abby had a meltdown and it broke my heart. (Luckily, I wasn’t having a hot flash or a surge of irrational thoughts at the same time.)
She couldn’t figure out her homework and was really struggling and that is when the tears came. All of a sudden she starting crying that she can’t do anything right and that she hates school because she doesn’t have anyone to talk to and her closest friends are getting new friends… and well, it was all I could do to not cry myself.
While I know her life is not that bad – I can remember what it was like to be in 6th grade… The pressure of having friends and thinking about boys and starting to worry about what you wear and what you say… all while hormones are racing through your body like a day of NASCAR.
I hated late night feedings and couldn’t wait for the tantrums to stop or the walking to begin… but last night – all I wished for was just that. To be in my baby’s room – rocking her to sleep and not holding my adolescent child in my arms as she bauled her eyes out because life was getting too hard.
I know I can’t protect her from the evils of life – the hurt she will endure and the heartache she will face. And, that was all I could think about when I tried to fall asleep.
What am I supposed to do? I really never felt so helpless as a parent.
In my case, I want my child to have the fun I did in Jr. High – to go to the dances and be a part of student council and pass notes (or texts - I guess now)… Sure, I cried… sometimes a lot – over a friend or a boy or both… But how do you express that all of that is so small compared to the rest of life without diminishing how important it is to them right now?
She felt a little better this morning but I could tell she was dreading the day ahead. I can’t help but wonder what her day is like – is she having a hard time making friends? Is she struggling academically? (even though she made high honor roll?) Or is most of it a result of the hormones taking over?
I want to be a good mom – to make her feel confident – to have high self esteem – most of all – I want her to be happy – to look back on these years and not remember only tears – but the fun she had and the friends she made.
I wish they had a bouncy seat or a baby swing for teens – to help soothe them – when they cry – some magic wand to take away the pain and give them back their smiles.
All I do know is that hormones are kicking our ass in this house… The score is them: 100 us: 0… When will the game be over? Or at the very least – when does the half time show start??
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Truths: Grey hair, menopause, and burritos at 1am
Aaaaaahhhh the joy of turning 40! I swear that in the last few weeks my hair has turned grey! Yep, those silver horse hairs are popping up all over my head. Everyone says they can’t see them (because my hair is highlighted about 100 different shades of blonde) but once I point them out they say, “Wow, yeah – there are a lot!”
Good friends always just tell the truth! Thanks!
But seriously, as I was driving yesterday and looked in the mirror – all I could see was grey hair sticking up all through my part. What the Hell happened?
I took a deep breath and told myself, “This is just a sign that reads, ‘you are now old enough to quit trying to be someone you are not. Relish who you are and let all your hang-ups vanish. Embrace that you have reached this time in your life because this is when people really start living.”
Its true, right? I hope.
They say that 40 is the new 20… God, I hope not – though I sure lived like I was 20 on Saturday night… We had bowling and our good friends, Adam and Nancy were there – and that means… well, it just means a lot of fun. (maybe a lot of drinking)… We were the last to leave bowling and found ourselves at a burrito place at 1am – eating like I remember doing in college at the infamous late night/early morning hangout: La Bamba.
Nancy was speaking Spanish and the rest of us were trying to figure out what she was saying. I know the employee was laughing at us – but we were having the best time. And I couldn’t help but wonder the next day (as I downed a few Tylenol) is that what 40 year olds do? When you are 20 – I don’t think you envision staying out late and hitting a food joint in the early am at 40 years old… But there I was with grey hair and all acting like I just left a fraternity party.
I also think 40 is the new 13 going on 60 because my body is going through changes that drive me insane. The inconsistent periods, the pimples all over my face, the drastic mood swings and lately the night sweats!
No one ever told me that at 40 I should really be sleeping in a baby pool not a king size bed. I wake up in the middle of the night – drenched! I have to change my shirt and wipe myself down.
I was talking to my 91 year old grandma yesterday and menopause came up. She couldn’t believe that I was going thru the early stages of it – but I told her I just want to be done with it.
She was taken back – because she dreaded menopause – not because of the symptoms but because it meant she was old. Kind of funny coming from a woman is who now 90.
I haven’t thought about menopause that way… I think of it as freeing. Once you have the children you want – why on Earth do I want to suffer a week out of each month? To rid my bath closet of tampons and pads – seems like a dream come true.
I don’t want to be old – but I don’t feel like I am. Sure the grey hairs are painted on my scalp but they remind me of how much I have already lived – and I figure that if I can eat a burrito at 1am – I can’t be that old just yet.
Good friends always just tell the truth! Thanks!
But seriously, as I was driving yesterday and looked in the mirror – all I could see was grey hair sticking up all through my part. What the Hell happened?
I took a deep breath and told myself, “This is just a sign that reads, ‘you are now old enough to quit trying to be someone you are not. Relish who you are and let all your hang-ups vanish. Embrace that you have reached this time in your life because this is when people really start living.”
Its true, right? I hope.
They say that 40 is the new 20… God, I hope not – though I sure lived like I was 20 on Saturday night… We had bowling and our good friends, Adam and Nancy were there – and that means… well, it just means a lot of fun. (maybe a lot of drinking)… We were the last to leave bowling and found ourselves at a burrito place at 1am – eating like I remember doing in college at the infamous late night/early morning hangout: La Bamba.
Nancy was speaking Spanish and the rest of us were trying to figure out what she was saying. I know the employee was laughing at us – but we were having the best time. And I couldn’t help but wonder the next day (as I downed a few Tylenol) is that what 40 year olds do? When you are 20 – I don’t think you envision staying out late and hitting a food joint in the early am at 40 years old… But there I was with grey hair and all acting like I just left a fraternity party.
I also think 40 is the new 13 going on 60 because my body is going through changes that drive me insane. The inconsistent periods, the pimples all over my face, the drastic mood swings and lately the night sweats!
No one ever told me that at 40 I should really be sleeping in a baby pool not a king size bed. I wake up in the middle of the night – drenched! I have to change my shirt and wipe myself down.
I was talking to my 91 year old grandma yesterday and menopause came up. She couldn’t believe that I was going thru the early stages of it – but I told her I just want to be done with it.
She was taken back – because she dreaded menopause – not because of the symptoms but because it meant she was old. Kind of funny coming from a woman is who now 90.
I haven’t thought about menopause that way… I think of it as freeing. Once you have the children you want – why on Earth do I want to suffer a week out of each month? To rid my bath closet of tampons and pads – seems like a dream come true.
I don’t want to be old – but I don’t feel like I am. Sure the grey hairs are painted on my scalp but they remind me of how much I have already lived – and I figure that if I can eat a burrito at 1am – I can’t be that old just yet.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Truths: What would you take with you?
My grandma turns 91 tomorrow and the last few months have been hard ones. She has been in and out of the hospital and has now been diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure. Its not the end of the world but it has taken its toll and she is left with hard decisions.
For over 60 years she has lived in the same house and now, with her medical condition, it seems it is time for her to move to more of an assisted living facility. It is our hope that she moves to one in FL to be by my parents and to be able to enjoy warmer weather all year long – less chance to fall on the ice and who can beat sunshine 365 days a year?
The other day I was at her house and she got to talking about how she is thinking about the move and what she wants to take with her and what she wants to give away.
She had already spoken to neighbors about some things that they might be interested in but there were a few things that she really would like to take with her.
A table and chair set out on the front porch, two wicker chairs and her bedroom furniture. She has had these things since I can remember – at least 30 years but when I asked her about some of her other pieces she said, “Oh, no – those are old!”
It is all relative right? She went on to talk about how she was going thru her shoes and her purses and that she had a friend who doesn’t have much and she would like to give her a few things.
I could tell that she had been giving all of this a lot of thought. She has been cooped up in her house for quite awhile now because she isn’t strong enough to go out and I imagine that this is the kind of stuff she sits around and thinks about.
But it got me thinking… If your family was all grown up and you were living alone and it was time to move from your lifelong home to a smaller apartment – what would you take with you?
We all have so much stuff. I guess its like the old quiz, “If there was a fire in your house what would you take first?” (Besides your spouse, children and pets)
I started thinking about it and found myself at a loss… I am not emotionally attached to any certain pieces of furniture maybe Abby’s crib - but that would be silly to take to an assisted living facility! I mean I love all of my things but what would I feel worthy of going with me – to a place where I had to pare down and simplify?
I am still looking around my house and wondering…
What would I want to hold onto?
Pictures are certainly one thing – even though all of mine are either digitally stored on my laptop or in piles in a huge armoire in my bedroom… Maybe my jewelry box and everything that is in it. But beyond that, nothing comes racing to mind.
And that puts everything into perspective doesn’t it? What we truly value and what we just feel we need are obviously two different things.
It really is all just stuff. It fills our rooms and decorates our walls, clutters our dressers and cramps are cabinets. Some of it we physically need to live like clothes and pots and pans but the rest of it is just trivial.
One of the only things that first came to my mind was that I would have to have a dog. I can’t imagine my life without one especially when my family is gone or grown-up and I am all alone. That is what would have meaning to me. I could sit at any table and chair or on any sofa as long as I had someone to sit next to me wagging his tail.
But a dog is not a thing – it is a companion. Which makes me reason that nothing is worth having unless you have someone to share it with.
Maybe that is why I can’t come up with anything in particular that I would want to take with me because thinking about it means that I am alone and that is a painful thing to come to terms with.
Is that what it comes down to when you are 90?
And, if it does, then, it makes it very clear that each day we get to spend with the people we love is our gift. The memories we make with them, the moments we share are what we have left… those are what we take with us when we find ourselves coming to the end. It’s not the chairs my grandma wants but the memories of all the people who sat in them and laughed with her.
I just hope that when I get to that point in my life – my memories are so abundant that I won’t even notice I am alone well, kind of alone… my dog will be sitting next to me.
For over 60 years she has lived in the same house and now, with her medical condition, it seems it is time for her to move to more of an assisted living facility. It is our hope that she moves to one in FL to be by my parents and to be able to enjoy warmer weather all year long – less chance to fall on the ice and who can beat sunshine 365 days a year?
The other day I was at her house and she got to talking about how she is thinking about the move and what she wants to take with her and what she wants to give away.
She had already spoken to neighbors about some things that they might be interested in but there were a few things that she really would like to take with her.
A table and chair set out on the front porch, two wicker chairs and her bedroom furniture. She has had these things since I can remember – at least 30 years but when I asked her about some of her other pieces she said, “Oh, no – those are old!”
It is all relative right? She went on to talk about how she was going thru her shoes and her purses and that she had a friend who doesn’t have much and she would like to give her a few things.
I could tell that she had been giving all of this a lot of thought. She has been cooped up in her house for quite awhile now because she isn’t strong enough to go out and I imagine that this is the kind of stuff she sits around and thinks about.
But it got me thinking… If your family was all grown up and you were living alone and it was time to move from your lifelong home to a smaller apartment – what would you take with you?
We all have so much stuff. I guess its like the old quiz, “If there was a fire in your house what would you take first?” (Besides your spouse, children and pets)
I started thinking about it and found myself at a loss… I am not emotionally attached to any certain pieces of furniture maybe Abby’s crib - but that would be silly to take to an assisted living facility! I mean I love all of my things but what would I feel worthy of going with me – to a place where I had to pare down and simplify?
I am still looking around my house and wondering…
What would I want to hold onto?
Pictures are certainly one thing – even though all of mine are either digitally stored on my laptop or in piles in a huge armoire in my bedroom… Maybe my jewelry box and everything that is in it. But beyond that, nothing comes racing to mind.
And that puts everything into perspective doesn’t it? What we truly value and what we just feel we need are obviously two different things.
It really is all just stuff. It fills our rooms and decorates our walls, clutters our dressers and cramps are cabinets. Some of it we physically need to live like clothes and pots and pans but the rest of it is just trivial.
One of the only things that first came to my mind was that I would have to have a dog. I can’t imagine my life without one especially when my family is gone or grown-up and I am all alone. That is what would have meaning to me. I could sit at any table and chair or on any sofa as long as I had someone to sit next to me wagging his tail.
But a dog is not a thing – it is a companion. Which makes me reason that nothing is worth having unless you have someone to share it with.
Maybe that is why I can’t come up with anything in particular that I would want to take with me because thinking about it means that I am alone and that is a painful thing to come to terms with.
Is that what it comes down to when you are 90?
And, if it does, then, it makes it very clear that each day we get to spend with the people we love is our gift. The memories we make with them, the moments we share are what we have left… those are what we take with us when we find ourselves coming to the end. It’s not the chairs my grandma wants but the memories of all the people who sat in them and laughed with her.
I just hope that when I get to that point in my life – my memories are so abundant that I won’t even notice I am alone well, kind of alone… my dog will be sitting next to me.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Truths: A Fabulous First Day of Being 40
Wow… yesterday has to be one of my best birthdays ever. I knew there would be a party and for the most part I knew who was coming – but none the less – I was so pleasantly surprised at how fantastic the day would go.
It was more than just my birthday – I mean the basement was finally done and the new bar open and the Bears were playing the Packers – it was an all around day to celebrate and the fact that it happened to be my actual birthday – well, it was ideal.
The day started by Bill and Abby taking me out to breakfast because “elves” were coming to decorate… and at the diner they gave me my gift… a whole year of someone cleaning my house!!! It was just what I wanted (and quite frankly – just what our house needs!) So, by 9am I already had everything I dreamed of!
We came home to green and gold streamers and balloons and piñatas and Happy Birthday plastered everywhere! It was so festive…
Bill was busy getting everything ready – because he said he would take care of it all. (By that he meant that he would get the beer and my dear friend Carol would get all of the food) But none the less – he did get everything ready and Keith and Carol would arrive with trays upon trays of food and cake and in minutes my entire house was ready for a party.
A few at a time my friends would arrive – each wishing me a happy birthday and then hugging up to the bar for something good to drink. By 2pm – our entire basement was filled with all of the people I love. (minus a few who couldn’t make it because they live too far away - different states even a different country! But the few who weren't there founds their own way to be a part of the day. One sent daily emails for a week - each one of them listing 40 things about a topic... One sent a beautiful, heartfelt gift that will always mean so much to me, so even those who couldn't be a part of the celebration were already near in spirit.)
Sure I came up with the guest list – but when I looked around – I couldn’t help but be taken back… This entire room of people were all that mattered to me – all in one room – celebrating this milestone of a birthday with me.
Friends from all different aspects of my life from grammar school to college to work friends to dog rescuing friends to my “mom” friends… they were all there hanging out with each other – some meeting for the first time.
And of course, my daughter and my step-daughter and my soon to be in son-in-law – they were all there laughing, cheering during the game…
Maybe its what happens at 40 – this revelation of what is important – what has real meaning – well, it happened to me yesterday.
I just kept stepping back from the crowd and taking deep breaths – in utter amazement. What a blessed life I have. How many people get to be surrounded on their birthday by such dear friends and family – people who want nothing more but to support you and wish you well. People who only expect you to be yourself and nothing more – and on days when you can’t even get out of bed to be yourself – they love you anyway.
Many brought perfect gifts – but the real gift was truly them. Having them in my life – making me a better person – keeping me real and honest and true. For 9 hours yesterday – all I ever wanted was right in front of me – a life filled with happiness and the people I care most about to share it with.
Yesterday was my first day of being 40 – and if it is any indication of the next 40 years of my life – I will be the luckiest, richest person in the world.
It was more than just my birthday – I mean the basement was finally done and the new bar open and the Bears were playing the Packers – it was an all around day to celebrate and the fact that it happened to be my actual birthday – well, it was ideal.
The day started by Bill and Abby taking me out to breakfast because “elves” were coming to decorate… and at the diner they gave me my gift… a whole year of someone cleaning my house!!! It was just what I wanted (and quite frankly – just what our house needs!) So, by 9am I already had everything I dreamed of!
We came home to green and gold streamers and balloons and piñatas and Happy Birthday plastered everywhere! It was so festive…
Bill was busy getting everything ready – because he said he would take care of it all. (By that he meant that he would get the beer and my dear friend Carol would get all of the food) But none the less – he did get everything ready and Keith and Carol would arrive with trays upon trays of food and cake and in minutes my entire house was ready for a party.
A few at a time my friends would arrive – each wishing me a happy birthday and then hugging up to the bar for something good to drink. By 2pm – our entire basement was filled with all of the people I love. (minus a few who couldn’t make it because they live too far away - different states even a different country! But the few who weren't there founds their own way to be a part of the day. One sent daily emails for a week - each one of them listing 40 things about a topic... One sent a beautiful, heartfelt gift that will always mean so much to me, so even those who couldn't be a part of the celebration were already near in spirit.)
Sure I came up with the guest list – but when I looked around – I couldn’t help but be taken back… This entire room of people were all that mattered to me – all in one room – celebrating this milestone of a birthday with me.
Friends from all different aspects of my life from grammar school to college to work friends to dog rescuing friends to my “mom” friends… they were all there hanging out with each other – some meeting for the first time.
And of course, my daughter and my step-daughter and my soon to be in son-in-law – they were all there laughing, cheering during the game…
Maybe its what happens at 40 – this revelation of what is important – what has real meaning – well, it happened to me yesterday.
I just kept stepping back from the crowd and taking deep breaths – in utter amazement. What a blessed life I have. How many people get to be surrounded on their birthday by such dear friends and family – people who want nothing more but to support you and wish you well. People who only expect you to be yourself and nothing more – and on days when you can’t even get out of bed to be yourself – they love you anyway.
Many brought perfect gifts – but the real gift was truly them. Having them in my life – making me a better person – keeping me real and honest and true. For 9 hours yesterday – all I ever wanted was right in front of me – a life filled with happiness and the people I care most about to share it with.
Yesterday was my first day of being 40 – and if it is any indication of the next 40 years of my life – I will be the luckiest, richest person in the world.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Truths: The Big Four Oh
“If life really begins on your 40th birthday, it's because that's when women finally get it… the guts to take back their lives.” -- Laura Randolph
Yep, today is my 40th birthday… The big 4-0… The whopper – the birthday where you realize that you really aren’t getting any younger… At the time 30 seemed like a big deal – a turning point that shouted, “You are not 20 anymore.” But, 40 – 40 is different.
40 allows you to NOT be 20- anymore… No more trying to fit into the junior section at the store – and I mean that in two ways – the first just actually physically trying to fit into the jeans that were made for young girls who never gave birth and the second just trying to make that belly shirt look appropriate for a night out with your friends.
40 screams you are not 20 – so it is actually a relief – a new state of mind – you can stop trying to be younger and finally just be your age.
I am grateful for that.
I also think that when you get to 40 – you finally know who you are and who you are not. You have spent 40 years getting to know yourself and it is refreshing to look in the mirror and say, “I recognize myself – I know what I want and I know what I am going to do to get it.”
No more being someone else – thinking you need to minimize who you are in order to impress other people. No more wasted time on people you really don’t like or friendships that require more work that they are worth.
No more worrying about your messy house when people come over… and no more wearing 3” heels to parties.
I think 40 is when you begin really living. Seeing the world for what it is and embracing it. Sure you still have dreams – but they are no longer clouded my naïve fantasy – they are outlined with the steps it takes to achieve them – a true sign of maturity.
I have noticed something new about me in just the last few months leading up to this day… Like women who “nest” right before they have children… for me at 40 there is a different phenomenon – clearing out the clutter. I can feel my body letting go of things that just get in the way of living.
I have tried that before but it was a half empty attempt – this time I actually am being led by something bigger and it sure feels good.
I am embracing 40 – holding on with both hands and sailing into the wind for the ride. I have high hopes for this year and all those that follow it.
One of the great things about this year is that many of my friends are turning 40 also and there are lots of trips planned… Jamaica, Spain, South Beach, FL… maybe a trip back to drunken Key West… and my dad is planning an amazing trip for the two of us to Antarctica! 25 and 30 were tough for me – but 40 – is going to be like a yearlong celebration.
While there will be traveling – I am also looking forward to slowing down. Enjoying the everyday – making cooking a hobby not a necessary evil… and making sure that I am eating better and taking the time to stay fit. Secretly (or at least it was a secret) I would like to run a 5k. I know that might seem small to most – but it would be huge for me.
My biggest hope is to get a book deal for my nonfiction novel detailing my three-year experience rescuing puppy mill dogs and lobbying to change the laws. It seems 40 would be THE year to achieve that.
Having a birthday on January 2 isn’t anyone’s ideal… But, I love that fact that my age change coincides with the infamous “new year’s resolution”. What an optimal time to declare aspirations and make changes.
Cheers to 40 and to where 2011 will take me… I am ready for the ride!
Yep, today is my 40th birthday… The big 4-0… The whopper – the birthday where you realize that you really aren’t getting any younger… At the time 30 seemed like a big deal – a turning point that shouted, “You are not 20 anymore.” But, 40 – 40 is different.
40 allows you to NOT be 20- anymore… No more trying to fit into the junior section at the store – and I mean that in two ways – the first just actually physically trying to fit into the jeans that were made for young girls who never gave birth and the second just trying to make that belly shirt look appropriate for a night out with your friends.
40 screams you are not 20 – so it is actually a relief – a new state of mind – you can stop trying to be younger and finally just be your age.
I am grateful for that.
I also think that when you get to 40 – you finally know who you are and who you are not. You have spent 40 years getting to know yourself and it is refreshing to look in the mirror and say, “I recognize myself – I know what I want and I know what I am going to do to get it.”
No more being someone else – thinking you need to minimize who you are in order to impress other people. No more wasted time on people you really don’t like or friendships that require more work that they are worth.
No more worrying about your messy house when people come over… and no more wearing 3” heels to parties.
I think 40 is when you begin really living. Seeing the world for what it is and embracing it. Sure you still have dreams – but they are no longer clouded my naïve fantasy – they are outlined with the steps it takes to achieve them – a true sign of maturity.
I have noticed something new about me in just the last few months leading up to this day… Like women who “nest” right before they have children… for me at 40 there is a different phenomenon – clearing out the clutter. I can feel my body letting go of things that just get in the way of living.
I have tried that before but it was a half empty attempt – this time I actually am being led by something bigger and it sure feels good.
I am embracing 40 – holding on with both hands and sailing into the wind for the ride. I have high hopes for this year and all those that follow it.
One of the great things about this year is that many of my friends are turning 40 also and there are lots of trips planned… Jamaica, Spain, South Beach, FL… maybe a trip back to drunken Key West… and my dad is planning an amazing trip for the two of us to Antarctica! 25 and 30 were tough for me – but 40 – is going to be like a yearlong celebration.
While there will be traveling – I am also looking forward to slowing down. Enjoying the everyday – making cooking a hobby not a necessary evil… and making sure that I am eating better and taking the time to stay fit. Secretly (or at least it was a secret) I would like to run a 5k. I know that might seem small to most – but it would be huge for me.
My biggest hope is to get a book deal for my nonfiction novel detailing my three-year experience rescuing puppy mill dogs and lobbying to change the laws. It seems 40 would be THE year to achieve that.
Having a birthday on January 2 isn’t anyone’s ideal… But, I love that fact that my age change coincides with the infamous “new year’s resolution”. What an optimal time to declare aspirations and make changes.
Cheers to 40 and to where 2011 will take me… I am ready for the ride!
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