Just Me

Home alone....no one asking me for anything....

No one telling me they need something, for me to do something, take them somewhere, buy them something that they "have to have now"

No one complaining about not getting something or especially, telling me I'm not doing something for them.....no one slamming doors, rolling eyes, staring at me with blank faces wondering when my mouth is going to stop moving.....no one wrestling, screaming, yelling, shouting....no music blaring, no banging of a mini basketball in a hoop and pretending a play of a real game....no hitting, head-locking, tumbling down the stairs....no sneaking into the kitchen waiting to get caught...no reminding for the 10th time to pick up the shoes or take out the trash....no asking me, begging me, crying to me, arguing with me.....

None of it....because this weekend...I was alone...alone...alone

In the quiet...with my own thoughts that I could complete without being interrupted....with my own time schedule that I could decide when and if to get up.....with a clean kitchen that stayed clean the WHOLE weekend.....and with no noise..at all

To say that it was heaven, is a huge understatement....it was bliss...a silky cloud that I wanted to feel caress my skin continually...a warmth in my soul that I wished never to end....

I found myself actually hearing the conversations in my head with myself! Asking questions in my head and answering them out loud! Thank God there are no cameras in my house or I'm sure I would be placed under medical observation! But I don't care...I was finally enjoying peace...in the real sense...a feeling of having control over my time, my choices, my life..even if it was for only a few days.

There is a feeling that comes over a woman when she has no one else around to take care of other than herself.....a feeling of ease, of centeredness, of peace...

Ok, maybe I can only describe myself here because there are probably people reading this and only thinking that if they had a whole weekend to themselves, they would go insane trying to find something to occupy their time, or worse, come up with every little thing to do that they had been wanting to accomplish or finish. But that was not me.

No, although at times I caught myself multi-tasking and wanting to busy myself with things that I knew needed to be done...in those moments, I stopped, reassuring myself that things would eventually make their way to getting done, but that this was an opportunity that I needed to let myself bask in...I needed to make myself be in the full moment of doing nothing...at all....really

And so my weekend of no children, no man, no dog....just me...was filled with laying in bed...making coffee and breakfast and taking it to bed....watching movies that I had wanted to see, in a row, with no interruptions! Reading my books...eating when I felt like it....not even turning on the lights for 3 days straight!! Yep...heaven!

I don't know when the time will ever come again that I get such a gift, but I can tell you, this was probably the most enjoyable weekend I have ever had!!

Backseat Driver

Is this where you want to be at this time in your life?  Is it where you thought you'd be?  I know everyone has that season in their life where you begin to look back at choices/decisions that you've made and get caught up in the "what-if" stage.  I know every choice has made us the people that we are, so despite the "no-regrets" mantra of the day......let's talk.......or shall I say, let me talk and you tell me if I'm a bit more insane today!

So,

My life has been in limbo for so long that I don’t think I would even know what it feels like to have it stable.  The limbo has become my norm - brought on by the wide range of choices and decisions that I have made throughout my life......my thought process though (wait for it!) has been to take somewhat of a backseat:

I seem to make choices and decisions based on what other people need of me or want of me or expect of me and then find myself completely surprised with the fact that I am unhappy.  I’m not saying there isn’t a conscientious decision on my part to play out my own life. Or that every choice is only made if someone else asks something of me, but I do believe that I am unaware of how easily I give in to major decisions that seriously affect my life based on the fact that I want to make the other person happy, hoping that it spills over into my mind as what I perceive as “happiness”.

And then I’m stuck!


I know this is hard to follow, but stay with me......

My intention is to have close, intimate relationships and somehow I have psychotically thought this meant just giving in and going along, yet.....I then become angry with the other person for making the decisions for my life!  See??

How can I blame the other person for leading me down this path when I allowed them to do so. I find myself becoming resentful toward them for sticking me with this life, as if I had no choice in the matter.

I ALLOWED THIS. I CHOSE THIS.

I am the one that said yes, ok, sure, sounds good.

And maybe there were some times where I stopped and argued or caught myself putting the brakes on, but then, I let the talking (convincing) occur, and begin to agree or become silent and “just go along” (normal for me, ugh!).

Over my 36 years of life, I still fall into the trap that I built myself! No one can make me do anything, choose anything, decide on anything, unless I allow them to.
Yet it is so much easier for my own psyche to believe that “poor” me is this victim against the “big-bad person” out to kill my happiness.

Sure, part of having relationships is giving of oneself, showing the other person care and concern by being selfless. It’s a give and take thing. Meeting someone halfway and sometimes more when they are in need. I do this automatically – so much so that I become paralyzed when that type of giving is not returned. Completely surprised that someone would take my innocent and loving outpouring for granted and not show their appreciation by giving it right back to me!! How dare they!

But really, how dare me??

Am I really telling myself that another human being is going to see me and my love the same way as I do? Am I really asking another person to hold dear this cherished giving-of-myself when I haven’t expected them to? Why have an issue now and not speak up before? Was I thinking I would learn to like it? Settle? Or down the road it would look different to me?

How on earth can I expect someone else to honor me, cherish me, appreciate me, and love me unconditionally when I allow the complete opposite? I allow it by just going along, thinking that although it’s not feeling right, maybe it will get better.

COMPLETELY INSANE!! RIDICULOUS!


The hardest part is always ourselves – the fight from within.

So what’s the lesson? (is there one? HAH!)

The lesson is that unless we, especially as women, are not present each and every day, in every aspect of our life, undoubtedly aware of ourselves and the relationships we have around us………then ultimately we will make choices and decisions based on others’ wants and needs and then wake up unhappy with how our life has gotten “here”!!

We have to stop allowing ourselves to take a backseat while giving the steering wheel to someone else that is going down a road we did not choose.

Passion: Exciting or Exhausting??

lighten up”, “you’re so serious”, “are you mad?”, “what’s wrong?”

Comments, statements, so-called advice that I have heard all of my life.

Passionate, intense, introspective, analytical…words that I would use to describe myself.

2 completely different ways of looking at me – others vs. myself.

I have always been told by my parents that since I was a little girl, I have been a “watcher” a “thinker”, and I would have to agree. I’m the quiet one when it comes to a group of people or if the conversation is surface-level. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy meeting new peopIe or can’t be part of getting-to-know-you chats – I actually enjoy going out and being social.

Yet, I understand myself enough to feel that I have come to terms with my natural instinct to need and crave a sizeable amount of time alone. This is my personality and I accept that this is who I am.

But in serious relationships, this has always been a problem, and something that I seem to have a hard time balancing. Let me explain.

- Sidenote – for anyone just joining my crazy and mixed-up life, you might want to check out a few earlier posts to help understand the current situation I’m in and it may make more sense as to why I’m a bit psychotic! Ha!: Reality, Ugh!, or My Sky is Falling.....

Now, on to the point:

To know me, it takes time. I will not let you close until I have built enough trust in you to know that I will not be judged or misunderstood – which usually takes a while.

To know me, it takes understanding. I am not the busy-body, chatterbox that will talk about anything and everything, just so there is not silence. I am a friend to silence! Quietness! (nothing wrong with a chatterbox though, no offense) But unless there is understanding, my quietness is mistaken for a snobbish attitude. Which is why people always tell me how surprised they are once they get to know me because I’m completely different than how I came across. “You’re not conceited at all!” – well, that’s good!

To know me, it takes a willingness to be open and honest. And this is where the relationship becomes too much. 
I’ll be the first one to go out and have a good time, get crazy and wild, and have no regrets!
But if you’re in a relationship with me for an extended amount of time (no, not a week! Not even a month – thank you!), there will be an expectation for real emotional connection – some intense, soulful discussions. I’m not your therapist and you’re not mine (thank God, right?) but if I care for you and have even professed my love for you, then I want to know you from the inside-out!

To know me, it takes great communication skills, or at least an effort to expand your knowledge of those skills. No, I’m not asking for a great orator or a master intellect (ugh – don’t you hate it when people try to sound smart! LOL), just conversations that go beyond the daily humdrum of life. I crave stimulating conversations and discussions about people’s lives and how they have come to be at the place in life they find themselves.
It’s interesting what happens to a relationship when you have a chance to reach an intense connection simply by sharing the real you! My passion comes out in this way!

There is no expectation for the amount of conversations or stimulating discussions that need to be had, but once every couple of weeks? (Or maybe that is an expectation!) Is that really too much? Cuz if it was up to me, it would be once a week!  I know-therapy!!

So, anyway

Me: Intense, serious, passionate, overwhelming, deep…….

And what do you get in return? Loyalty, compassion, supportive through hard times, authenticity, sincerity – not a one-sided relationship, I don’t think.

However, unless you’re my dad (therapist) or a man with a unique ability of being self-aware, I become “too much” for this type of relationship. Too much to handle, too much work, especially when it comes to handling everything long distance and in the crazy world of blended families!

So, this is where I’m at right now, to satisfy the wondering followers that have been asking if I’m still writing! I don’t think this would qualify, except for an update inside my peculiar head!

Thanks for letting me share today!

The Lost Manners

 

When did a thank you become a request instead of an automatic response to someone giving us something or showing an act of kindness? Have we become so accustomed to receiving that we take for granted the every day work of others?

And how is this played out in our families, with kids showing no appreciation for the blessed lives they lead?

I think the only time I ever hear a thank you in my household is at the dinner table (after prodding for a response to “mmmm, sure tastes good!”) or when I bring home a surprise gift, but that usually ends in a complaint that it was the wrong one somehow.

I have been astounded in the last couple of weeks by the sad response of the high schoolers in writing their teachers Thank You cards. Since I have taken on the Hospitality Chair of our PTO, I thought it would be a nice gesture to buy a bunch of thank you cards and sit at lunch every day for 2 weeks in order to have students come up and sign a card, and then deliver them to the teacher’s mailboxes today. (Not exactly my idea of a great time in the middle of my days, but at least I get to see Sam – not that she would even acknowledge my existence, but that is a different blog entry!)

My first eye-opener was when a girl came up to ask about one of our community service programs and discuss her earning hours. After the discussion, I gestured to the thank you cards laying out on the table and asked her if she would like to write a card to a special teacher for Thanksgiving. Without any hesitation, she looked straight at me, and asked, “do I get service hours if I write a card?” –Did your jaw just drop?- I have to say, I was too stunned to answer her and she ended up just walking away from the table.

What I wanted to say was: WHAT??? Are you kidding me? In order for you to say thank you to a teacher that gives of their time, money, and knowledge to enable you to complete your education, you have to be BRIBED to say a simple thank you?????

My continual eye-opener has been the amount of students that, when asked if they want to write a quick thank you card to a special teacher or administrator, they respond by saying they don’t have any special teachers!!

OH YEA! I forgot!! You’ve gotten to this place in your life ALL BY YOURSELF!! Are you joking??

Now don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all in vain. There were many girls and a few guys that were quite excited at the idea of thanking their teachers that have been influential in their lives. And it brightened my day to see the smiles on their faces as they thought out each perfect word as they were writing.

So this experience got me wondering about the idea of saying thank you and how the act of saying those words (or the lack of them) affects both the people in our lives as well as our own lives.

During this “Thankful” season, it was interesting that I found a study published by the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, analyzed by Professional Counselor Steven Lucas in his article “Saying Thank You is No Longer Just Good Manners”, which was conducted in order to see how gratitude affects both the person saying thank you and the motivation it gives to the other person to keep providing help. Lucas gives a very informative and interesting analysis, and I would encourage you to take the time to read his article at: CounselingCentral.com.

Although I love to make connections and enjoy the study of human behavior, I am definitely NOT a psychologist (yet having a family of psychologists is a pretty good education!), but I completely understand how saying thank you somehow connects people together. Feeling valued and worthy encourages us to keep giving, keep helping and in fact, inspires us to thank the people that help and give so much to us. And so continues the act of saying thank you.

So where has the “attitude of gratitude” gone? Is it still around or has it slipped away along with so many foundational characteristics taught to us by our parents or family? Will it be one of those things that we only notice when it’s gone? I hope not.

Teaching my children to be considerate, appreciative, and thankful has to truly be done explicitly. I have to assume that they will just mimic my behavior or say “thank you” out of obligation, instead of a sincere feeling of gratitude, which only comes from understanding the true worth of effort.

I must remember that taking them to places where they can volunteer their time and help others will benefit them for the rest of their lives. Teaching them to earn what they want instead of just receiving without having done any work will, in time, help create more thankful attitudes and a gracious heart toward other’s needs.

And although I want my children to grow up with a feeling of social worth and be intrinsically motivated to put others before themselves, I also live in reality and can always hope and pray that a little bit of ideal can sneak its way into our family.

And may even be met with a THANK YOU someday.

Spik N' Span

 

Ever feel like you’d like to carry parts of your past into your present? Or stop yourself mid-action because it just came straight out of your childhood? Well that sort of thing happens to me a lot, especially when I’m starting a mind-numbing task like cleaning (!!) or actually the lack of it! Hah!

I caught myself just this morning, walking into the bathroom, getting ready, and then right before walking out, found myself looking back at the clutter on my bathroom sink and thinking (13-year old thoughts) – Mom will put that stuff away! WHAT?? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM??

My mother used to pick up after me constantly and I only say that because I don’t know of one instance (suppressed memories) of when my mother was bugging me to pick up things. Now I’m sure it happened and I’m sure she was pulling her hair out as much as I do (daily) but I always remember her cleaning, having order in the house, making sure things were kept up so when anyone would stop by, she would be ready.

I also know that she picked up after me on a regular basis because I still find myself dropping things in one place or another and thinking for a split second, “someone else will take care of that, or clean that dish, or put that away” REALLY! NO JOKE! It’s like my mental state goes right back to the “good ole days” when I had someone (mom) following me around (or at least my stuff) and making everything nice, clean, organized, and sparkly! Now I seem to be looking behind me, thinking that someone will be nice and kind enough to see that there is a mess and then politely clean it up without my need to say anything!

I know, I’m not basing this argument in reality, and no, I haven’t taken any happy pills to help me imagine such a place, although feel free to share, seeing as I need to go there quite often!

I am not what you would describe as having the need to be constantly cleaning. Some days I wish I had some form of OCD (Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder…skipped me!) so that I would actually WANT to get down on my hands and knees to scrub the little rubber connections on the refrigerator door or organize each and every closet, cupboard, and drawer….WITH labels!!. I think that would be a gift! Something that would actually save me money, seeing as how I love to spend my time doing other things (building my business, writing, volunteering, exercising) in a clean house.

See, I’m one of those people that although I would much rather be doing something else, I can’t concentrate unless my house is at least tidy. Even now, I’m having quite a hard time focusing on my words because my eyes keep getting distracted by the books, papers, backpacks, and cups that have begun to litter my living room….dragged in by the mess makers of my house coming home from school.

So I’m left with the only alternative to this chaos, and that is….to clean (UGH!), not super-anti-bacterial-scrub-the-floor-type of cleaning….because that would be too Suzy-homeaker-of me…and then what would I have left to complain about…oh yea, my CHILDREN….so to cleaning (or should I say straightening) I go..now if only I could find my mom!

Wishing Me Enough

 

On my quest to find contentment (hah!!)...due to the fact that the attitudes and behaviors exhibited by my oh-so-grateful children have left a lot to be desired..I figured I may (or may not) have something (just a little) to do with it. I KNOW! CRAZY HUH??

So trying to get to the bottom of why the young people in my house have had terrible, nasty, rude, obnoxious, and irritating attitudes (just my opinion), I wanted to read up on it and find out if it is only my house that seems to be in a constant state of grumpy!

Now I have to start out by saying that there is 1 family member that is the epitome of optimistic happiness and is forever smiling and laughing and being goofy…..and if it wasn’t for her personality, I think our whole house would collapse in piles of sulking faces!! My Madison has such a great, uplifting attitude in most everything she is a part of and it is quite contagious! She may get on the nerves of her brothers and sister, but it is always with the intention to make them laugh…..and I just LOVE her for that!!

BUT, our household obviously has not caught on to Madison’s ability to see the glass half full, which has led me on this quest for ENOUGH.

As the saying goes, “when you point your finger at someone, there are 4 more fingers pointing back at you”, I knew that before I continue to scold and reprimand the ugly attitudes of my children, I first had to look at how my own attitude needed a bit of tweaking!

So in reading blogs, journal entries, and devotionals, I ran across these thoughts by SeniorLiving Ministries which were passed down from generations of mothers to their daughters and have struck a chord in my heart…..(Read at least twice)

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get through the final goodbye."


My wish, for myself, is that I would find this ENOUGH in order to pass onto my children the wisdom in what it takes to truly know what it means to have ENOUGH.


That for everything going on in my life (our lives):

I must choose to joyfully be present so they can learn the value of a good attitude.

I must choose to appreciate, so they can learn to be content.

I must choose to make memories and laughter so they can learn to simply enjoy.


I love to be inspired to be better, to make choices for change that I know will forever impact my ability to become a better person and in turn a better mother.
And I love that with an inspired attitude, I can take on this chaotic life of mine….and SMILE.

My Own Box

 

Entering the grumpy stage...

the crabby stage...

the mean, nothing-will-satisfy-me stage...

I don’t wake up ready to fight or ready to yell, but lately, it just seems that when it comes to managing this household of mine and hearing 2 pre-teens and 2 teenagers go at each other and at me, I just can’t help myself when the words come spilling out...

I have never called myself the most gracious and tender-hearted mother. I have a difficult time showing compassion to children that whine, complain, make rude remarks (and smile when they get the reaction they were waiting for), and have to be told (7 times) to put back what they just got out!!

See, I look at mothers (you know who you are) that undeniably were born with that certain extra gene, which allows them to be in a constant state of patience. They smile with loving eyes to children that are having a meltdown over having to take a shower………they pick up each and every toy, sock, towel, video game controller that has been left nonchalantly around the house, without so much as a complaint or comment. They happily clean every dish, wash each and every piece of clothing, and cook every meal with heart-felt joy. I look at these mothers and all I can do is laugh…….because I know my reality.

I know I have that big, long, disgusting list that holds everything I am not, everything that I SHOULD be, everything that the ideal mother strives each and every day to become. See, I’m nothing near that. I’m not that mother, nor do I pretend to be. Does it weigh on me sometimes? Sure……..Do I compare myself to that ideal? Yes………but out of guilt……..not out of realistic expectations.

If I changed that LIST of motherly attributes that I do not possess, it would look something like this:

As a mother, I need to work on:

****saying 1 positive thing BEFORE screaming

****consistently refer to the chore chart no matter what mood I’m in

****keep my own mouth shut when the sarcastic and rude comment wants to come blaring out, especially when certain children have asked the same question 5 times straight without a pause to let me answer!!!

****hugging instead of visualizing myself smacking that “roll of the eyes” off their face

****taking the video games, cell-phones, and lap-tops away when every direction from me is met with a pout, a rude comment, or an irritating attitude

****acknowledge to myself that there will rarely be a time that I am appreciated, valued, or simply loved for just being a mother…….that I don’t get a break from this responsibility, that I can (no matter how difficult sometimes) see my children as individuals instead of aliens that have come to make my life HELL, and to remember that this (no matter the difficulties) is what I signed up for when I chose to have a child, or 2, or 3, or 4..

Now before I start getting all of the hate comments regarding this post, let me remind all of you that I am NOT, and don’t pretend to be, a perfect mother so there is no point in wasting your breath to try to make me feel guilty. Remember, I know that “best-mom” award will not be making its way into my hands.

I also know that despite my grumpiness, my screaming and yelling, my dramatic squealing, there is no expectation that I can hold myself up to because I am who I am. I believe there will always be things to which I can improve and ways that I can become a better mother. But will I let that control me? No…Will I let that dissuade me from telling my children flat-out what I think? No..

I have a lot of faults, a lot of attitude, a lot of opinion, and a whole lot of passion.

So I don’t expect my kids to be any different! I complain, whine, yell and scream! And so do they!

So I guess that’s to be expected……….like mother, like child.

I can’t be anything less than me, faults and all. So, to HELL with the box that this mother is supposed to fit into...it’s too small anyway.

The Ducks are Calling......

 

Yep, it's time......time for me to get serious.....really, down-to-earth serious.....about that one thing that has somehow made it's way out of my daily routine and out of my life as I know it in my world of today.

And that would be.....ugh.....organization, you know….having my “ducks in a row”

See, I am an all-together, organized, everything-has-its-place type of woman. After all, I went into education! It's in my blood, my DNA, my heredity given by my mother whom is the epitome of togetherness and cleanliness ( btw, why didn’t I get that “it’s not clean till I can see my face in the tile” gene?)

So where, or when, did I come to the place that I find myself in now, a place of dysfunction, disorganization, distastefully disgusting……and a whole lot of “dis” things!!?? I suppose when I came to the place in my life that I now refer to as “the pause”……the time in one’s life that nothing is moving forward, no big decisions are being made, and you simply find yourself waiting…..and waiting….and waiting for the next step in your life to somehow get dropped in your lap, to magically appear before you, to have the obscuring blindfold taken off

Well, without needing to go into all of the reasoning behind that (because that would take a few bottles of vodka and a “come to Jesus” meeting), let’s just say, I have become the opposite of the woman I once was in many areas, but certainly the area of organization.

So, it’s time…….and I figured it was time because as I began going through the stacks of papers and receipts and sticky-notes to find the thing I used to call a desk, I realized that I could finally breathe! Finally feel accomplished in an area of my life (or furniture) that enabled me to relax because all of a sudden, everything was in its place! I think I had forgotten how much power and strength could be drawn from the simple task of clearing, filing, organizing , and tossing!

Incredible!

This is an accomplishment that I didn’t realize I was needing to overcome. I didn’t realize that I had slowly begun to pile, and shift piles, and make new piles on top of previous piles…….and then feel as if I had no control over my life! WELL DUH!!

And now I see that as the piles began to grow, I became more tense, stressed, irritated……without bothering to self-reflect about why I was feeling this way (I love it when I can use my parent-induced psychology on myself!!)…..

So, I have a clean desk!

And now I find myself telling the little people in my house (and big) that I have a new resolution, and I’m not waiting for January! I’m starting now, before the house gets crazy with school and schedules and people……I’m moving this organization bug from office, to kids’ rooms (could take a while), to cubby spaces, drawers, maybe even the garage!…….and if you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, please check the closets!

I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m determined to go into this cocoon of disorganized psycho-woman and come out a beautiful, everything-has-its-place, peaceful, less-stressed momma!

It may take a while…a few midnight crisis calls to any professional organizer I can get my hands on….couple of good shots when I reach the boys’ room (or find it anyway)…but it’s gonna happen!

And if there are any sane or insane ideas or tips out there, then SHOW SOME LOVE!!

What am I writing for?

I'm beginning to see a pattern in this psychotic train wreck of blogging that I seem to be obsessed with! And the pattern is....when I begin to think of topics and random thoughts that I want to write about, I end up with the daunting task of actually choosing which topic or thought I would like to delve into.....which brings me to the inability to choose (because I have this brain of mine that immediately shuts down the minute I have to THINK and make a DECISION!).

Ever get that overwhelming feeling that you have so many things in your head and an incredible amount of information that is trying to come to some kind of order, that essentially you sit on the couch (as I did this morning) with your eyes glued to the window (not looking at anything at all), telling yourself to get up and move because there are 5,000 things that need to be taken care of....but no matter how many times you tell your body to move, you sit there....paralyzed...in this in-between state of overwhelming reality and mind-numbing blankness (is that a word?)

This is my journal, so if any of you feel the need to tell "poor Candace" that everything is great and that you have been through "tough times" before...........let me stop you and reitterate that this is my journal, my thoughts, my psychotic episodes and randomness....

I am not down, depressed, angry, miserable, need to be checking in with a psychiatrist, etc. I am simply rambling about my brain that sometimes does not like to work and leaves me on this teeter-totter of consciousness (they make pills for this, right??)

Anyway, back to my original thought (see?), I have been perusing various blogs and enjoying reading other posts (love the BLOGFROG- yeah!) and have gotten so caught up in everyone else's lives and blogs that I haven't posted anything! Kinda like planning a party...buying all of the decorations....making all of the food....picking out the best music.... cleaning the house top to bottom......and then realizing you forgot to invite PEOPLE! That's where I am. I have gotten so wrapped up in what I can do with my blog, how to make it look more interesting, what kinds of buttons and widgets and pictures and everything else that has anything to do with making my life look so much more interesting..........that I suddenly remembered that I haven't written anything at all!!

Oh, but it doesn't all come to a great resolution you see, because then I have wandered my way down the path of uncertain topics to write about! And this, as I stated before (window into my brain - scattered), making a decision as to what I am going to write about is a huge task for me. With all due respect to those incredible women that post something each day, sometimes more, I can't do that. It takes me a while to decide (obviously) and then it's like I need my own crazy insane mind to be inspired enough to finally begin typing.

Ironically, I came to the conclusion to write about my inability to write when I made the choice that I am finally going to get organized and put-together and that it would be great to write about - and then because of the enormity of even the possibility of accomplishing this organizational venture - my mind shut down!

So, after 2 days of an unconscious brain, I decided that in order to "wake" my mind up enough to even consider bringing "organize" into my vocabulary again, I needed to just write...even if it is about the fact that I am not writing...so there you go....I wrote - YEAH!!

And applause to you if you read this post and it makes sense, and cheers to you if you have a similar way of psychotic thinking, and (even better) if you are my lost-long twin of mind-numbing consciousness that becomes paralyzed with your own lack of decision-making skills, then let me buy the first round!!

The Southern Way of Food

 
There are many things that I have enjoyed about living in Texas. The true southern hospitality, the quirky sayings for just about any event or situation, and the incredibly laid-back demeanor of people......of which, I have had to adjust my temperament accordingly.....what? no one else is constantly late and in a hurry? what? I have to find out your life's story when all I wanted was directions?

And out of all of the things that I have changed about myself in order to "fit" here in the South, I can't bring myself to partake in the Southern Way of Food.

Now there are thousands of blogs, articles, opinions and such about the relationship to food according to the area in which you live.....especially when it comes to talking about the South.....and all of the history and culture that food down here represents. And I find this information and knowledge very interesting yet also sensitive and somewhat political.

But that is not my motive here.....I'm not looking to start some debate or have some intriguing discussion with lots of facts and quotes, although it is not out of the question to be a part of such dialogue......but, no......the point of my blog post today is that I simply do not like Southern Food! There, I said it!! Now, don't shoot me.....even though we all know you carry that gun!......I am just stating that, as for me, southern food is not pleasant to eat. I don't get comfort from it, whatsoever.

Starting with the texture....slimy, gritty, chewy....these are not the descriptions that I would want to use on anything I am putting on my tongue. Texture is very important to me......the feel of food in my mouth should be an enjoyable, delectable, inviting experience...and the only change in my facial expressions should be one showing inquisitive pleasure and satisfying happiness! Not disgust and an immediate need to do whatever it takes to get this "wrong" thing out of my mouth!

And that was just texture.....can we say taste, or in my case, BURN! How is it possible to put so much hot sauce on something that I can smell it from the other side of the room? Not the food...the hot sauce! There is a huge difference between spicy, like salsa......which I grew up with, and hot sauce. Salsa comes in mild, medium, and hot.......hot sauce comes in every bad word known to man that you will be yelling at the top of your lungs as soon as that piece of food touches your tongue! But people down here in the South have a disturbed belief that food is not good unless you have sweated out every ounce of liquid from every pore of your body.
Since when is torturing your mouth a pleasant eating experience? How do you taste anything after you have burned off every taste bud on your tongue?

And yet.....if the slimy and gritty texture is not enough and the horrifying display of fire in my mouth is not enough.....let's just discuss the fact that there are things in the south that should not, under any means, occupy the category of food.....such as.....gator, opossum, raccoon....and parts of animals that should be left alone...not put into a soup, covered up with spicy, salty ingredients so you don't have any clue what you're eating.....no, not gonna happen!
I understand traditions and wanting to cook authentic food with recipes past down through the generations.....BUT EMBRACE THE PROGRESSION OF FOOD! Move up to the times...some things need to be historical for a reason.....like things we should never again see on a plate!

Although there are things I am proud to say I inherited from my father, like the goal-oriented and decisive-driven personality....the "southern-ness" was not a part of that inheritance package.....seen most apparently when there is a decision to be made as to where we will eat. Most recent example would be Father's Day. Given every available choice of restaurants, my dad undoubtedly picks Barbeque....Texas-style.....slathered, messy, pick-it-out-of-your-teeth-for-days Barbeque! It took me at least 10 minutes to decide what on that menu I could eat that was not fried, greasy, or covered with gravy. I thought the turkey sandwich was a safe bet....till the lady gave me a plate and all I saw was a hamburger bun (no bread here, unless it's white and only to be eaten as a side to the mound of meat), a scoop of meat (guessing it was turkey) and smothered in barbeque sauce. Oh! maybe I should have assumed that it wasn't a "normal" turkey sandwich, it was the "southern" turkey sandwich! I forgot....again!

So I'm still learning.....still adapting....to the South and "the way we do things round here!" I don't know if I will ever stop being surprised at what people here call good food.....or if I will ever look at food from a southern perspective.....or if I will ever enjoy a real, authentic, southern meal.....I don't know....most likely, my tastes will evolve to include more southern cooking....I'm not ruling that out, after all......

we do have Sweet Tea!!

Daddy's Little Girl

I can get completely lost in my own thoughts when it comes to my dad. My mind jumps from memory to memory and I find myself flooded with a wide range of emotions. To say that my dad made an impact on my life and that I am the person I am today because of the influence he had on me, is to say the least.

I am what you would call.........daddy's little girl......or at least was, in various stages of my life, depending on how "grown up" I feel at the time!

No matter what was going on in our lives, my dad always made it a point to talk to me....explain things to me.....enable me to see life through open eyes......show me that through crisis and pain, the best lessons are learned and the more people can grow to become better human beings.

I remember the thousand times that my sister and I would sit waiting in the car right outside the church doors until my dad had talked with each and every person there....until he was done helping anyone there that had an immediate crisis and needed his counsel....until he would jump into the car and take us to the restaurant where twenty people would be waiting to have lunch with my dad just to spend more time discussing, laughing, enjoying.

I remember always having people in our house, sharing a meal, and listening to the intense and enlightening conversations they would have with my dad, talking about everything from theology to relationships to finances.....yet, he never made me leave the room or dismissed me because it was "grown-up talk".....he always answered any questions I would have, no matter what.....and at times, he even asked me what I thought!

I also remember his quiet times......finding him laying on the couch listening to music and as I entered the room, he would tell me to sit and listen to the words, explaining to me the idea behind the lyrics.......finding him sitting in his office, preparing his sermon, with stacks and stacks of books around him, each one with his highlighting and note taking inside, and as I entered the room asking him what he was going to talk about on Sunday, he would look up, and without skipping a beat, go through his notes, telling me every word with such passion and emotions, as if to say, "you're as important to me and my purpose right now, as 1,000 people are, sitting in the congregation on Sunday"!!

And then

I remember getting the phone call.....that my big, strong daddy had collapsed.....running into the emergency room and being told that he may not live....hearing that his brain was filled with blood and they were going to have to operate......sitting in rooms filled with people praying, hugging me, bringing me tissues and food....learning that he had had a stroke and doctors had miraculously removed the cause.......taking a semester off of school so I could sit in his room and wait, not wanting to miss any of his recovery.....watching him slowly recover and slowly making progress

.....and finally.....

adjusting to a new daddy....one that may need more time moving from one place to the next and can't have the fast-paced life he used to......BUT......still loves to sit and talk with me....still asks me about my thoughts and my feelings....still makes me feel as important and special as I did when I was little.....still teaches me through his own observations of the world.

I am incredibly proud to have a dad that has shown me what it means to truly care for others....to be open to other people and their ideas.....to be an influence to those around me....to think of the impact I have on the world around me.....and especially to take the time to be thankful each and every day for the miracle of life I am given.

No matter what happens in my life or my situation....I know that my heart will always belong to my dad.......and I will forever be....Daddy's Little Girl!

Opening Our Reality

 

I recently enjoyed an overdue night of dinner with a dear and new-found friend.
I was looking forward to this time because I wanted to get to know who she was and how she had come to this place in her life....I know, deep, right? I guess the reason why I was looking forward to it so much was because in our past conversations, I had noticed that we seemed to have more to talk about than simple day-to-day stuff. She had shown to be a deep and interesting thinker and much more down-to-earth than I had expected. But because of time constraints and such, we had not had a good one-on-one time until now.

As our conversation moved quickly from surface talk (interpret: job, places we've lived) to deeper topics (interpret: relationships, major crises), there was not a time amongst the tears or laughter that either one of us found unsettling or uncomfortable. We talked to each other with such ease as if we had known each other for years........words and feelings spilling out from us with the anticipation of an exciting reaction from the other......

This was incredible to me!
Why?
Because I found that this was what I have been missing lately......talk time.....listening time........no judgements........no "fixes"...........a true happiness to be sharing life stories full of mistakes and successes.......the ability to be in awe of another woman simply because of the vast accomplishments that she has made despite such overwhelming odds.....AND NOT TO BE IN COMPETITION! To want to listen and enjoy the moment of getting to know another woman and her life and her thoughts and her feelings.......and her reality!

Why is this such an incredible happening?
Because as a woman in my 30's, I have had an extremely hard time with females in my life, as relationships long-lasting and meaningful. And as my friend and I discussed, we both agreed that relationships with other female friends has been the thorn in our side throughout our lives. To have another woman that you can call in the middle of the night crying over absolutely nothing, but she would never tell you that!.........another woman to meet up with over coffee where the discussion will not be one-sided........another woman to give advice when asked but not rub it in when you don't take that advice yet picks you up in love and laughter despite your mistakes........

So where are these women that we so utterly crave?

Well, I can count.....ON ONE HAND!.....how many of these close relationships I have had with female friends.
Don't get me wrong, It wasn't like I haven't consistently tried to have more.

But I have to pick myself off the floor every time I allow myself to go down memory lane regarding the hardship of past relationships with other women.

It seems, for the most part, I find another woman that I feel would maybe make a good friend, or someone at least that will not view me as either competition or a blonde bimbo with nothing interesting to talk about, have 2 or 3 interactions with her, only to find out she either has a group of friends that she is involved with (not looking to share) or so deeply involved with family and relationship obligations that she is not even considering some woman time.

Women have issues, ok? I said it!! Insecurities being a major one! We get defensive easily, size each other up, back-stab, build walls faster than texting an insult, and leave our relationships out to dry never to be heard from again.
I include myself 100% in this observation!

And as my friend and I were talking, we both agreed that to finally find another woman that you can relate to, discuss good and bad things about yourself, listen without self-doubt, and know that their words are meant to honestly uplift you as a person, is truly a remarkable gift.

We, as women, have to make the choice to be bold in our preservation of female friendships. We have to make a clear and conscious decision to be the friend we want to desperately have. To Open Our Reality to each other in hopes that what comes back is the true female friendships we so desperately need.

But it takes walking through the fear of being open and honest with other women in a way that finally sheds our outside appearances and enables us to be seen, flaws and all. If this becomes our new reality, what an impact we can have on the next generation of female friendships!

The Closet

 

It's that time of year again.......the time in which I walk into my closet and begin to stare down my clothes as if to say "I'm ready for a fight!"

And it doesn't matter what type of mood I walk into my closet with, undoubtedly my mood will become frustration, hopelessness, or downright anger. I can't help it. It's the time of year when the summer clothes start to come out and I have to look at the same clothes that I have been wearing for years now.....pathetic, right?

So go get a new wardrobe! Throw out the old clothes! Go shopping!
Two problems with that theory............
First off, I'm attached.....white shorts, comfortable, still fit well, so what if they've gotten a bit thin from all of the washing (yes, I wear underwear - white underwear!).......black tank top, comfortable, still fits well, not really black anymore, strings hanging off......black skirt, comfortable, still fits well (when I iron it, hate to iron!), more of a gray color now, doesn't really match anything else, unless I wear my not-so-black-anymore tank top.

Second problem with the new wardrobe theory........I'm picky when it comes to clothes....you wouldn't guess that by the description of my attached clothes!....but it's true. When I bring myself to go shopping, it will take me literally, 3 hrs to decide on 1 shirt, I'm not kidding. By the time I have looked at each rack about 5 times over, picked a basket full to try on, tried on everything and hated each one (all the while thinking what can I wear under them to suck in the roly-poly belly or what can I cover the new clothes with to hide what I don't like - which takes away from the point of buying new clothes - ugh!!), I finally emerge from the clothing store with 1 shirt that will hang in my closet with the tag still on because when I got it home, I didn't like it after all!

It is too much of a process......do you know how many clothes I have that I've bought on the spur-of-the-moment impulse because I didn't want to go through the aching task of decision-making? And where are those clothes? Hanging in my closet, never to be worn or taken back to the store (I would have to choose a different item of clothing then)?

I think if I threw out everything from my closet that I don't wear, I would have maybe, 5 or 6 pieces of clothing that actually get worn on a regular basis. Maybe subconsciously I think if I walk into a closet full of clothes, an outfit that looks stunning, modern, and put together, will magically appear before me! NOT!

I remember watching this show about a celebrity (of course), who had gone to see a woman that specializes in "life management"! By the way, how is this a specialty? Where do they give a degree in life management?

Anyway, this celebrity tells the specialist that she needs a nanny, a housekeeper, a dog-walker, a cook, and a driver - and "oh yeah, I need someone to go shopping and pick out clothes for me because that is just too much for me to do" WHAT??? You can pay someone to do that?? Is that possible?? I would have no problem admitting I need help in this area.....I don't care if people think it's ridiculous or a waste of money, or even narcissistic! All I kept thinking during the rest of the show was how to find the money in my budget (what's that??) in order to get me one of those shop-for-me-dress-me people! I then had to settle myself down and realize that this was a hopeless dream and there was a reason I was watching a "celebrity" hire all of this help and not an every-day mom like myself. Dream-crushed....oh well....where was that reality again? Oh yeah, back in the closet.

Maybe sharing this will inspire me to finally get in there and take out all of the shirts that don't fit or look wrong for some reason, all of the pants that have shrunk and are now floods on these long legs of mine, and all of the dresses that have made their way into too many pictures over the years ("Look mom, you're wearing the same dress as this picture from 8 years ago!"), and don't even get me started on the costume jewelry laying in my drawers!!

So, into the closet I go.........and out walks the frustrated and angry woman in her white shorts and black tank top for the 10th year running!! :)

Mixed Up and Inspired by Motherhood!

There are no better words that go hand in hand than mother and inspiration.

Inspiration conjures up a blend of provoking thoughts, ground-breaking ideas, and super-human abilities. Being inspired requires a heads up motion and a look to the sky mentality. We can be inspired by so many new and exciting things or by the most simplistic of notions. We can find inspiration through another person's story, a picture or work of art, or the unique innocence of a child.



Mothering also conjures up a blend of uncharacteristic thoughts, idealistic ideas, and insurmountable super-human abilities! Being a mother requires a constant heads up motion (to look over that crowd of people to make sure your child is safe, but also the hands-flying up, heaven-help-me-with-this-child look....). Being a mother requires a look to the sky mentality in which falling to our knees with considerable determination is needed almost every night in order to keep sanity among the tantrums or bear what our teenagers have just told us!

As mothers, we can be inspired by looking down at the sleeping face of the newborn child we have carried inside of us for nine months and have finally gotten to meet. As mothers, we can be inspired by the exciting reaction of our child when we get them an ice cream cone (and then the devastating sadness that comes over their face when that same ice cream cone drops onto the ground!).

Mothers can instantly find an inspiring bond with another mother by simply listening to her staggering accomplishment of getting herself ready in the morning, 4 children up and ready for school, breakfast made, coffee made, dog walked, school papers signed, and out the door with no crying children or disgruntled teenagers WITH 5 minutes to spare!! (Ok, inside we're secretly wondering if this mom has some stash we don't know about and how hard would it be to get her to share??)

Mothers can draw on the legacy of motherhood passed onto her through her own mother or the loving advice given by mother-like figures as her daily inspiration. We, as mothers, can choose to see inspiration instead of competition among the women we meet and stand supportive when another mother's burden is too much for her to bear. We, as mothers, can choose to be humbly inspirational and come to the defense of another mom because we know those shoes are an incredibly hard-fit sometimes. And we can be the first non-judgemental woman to hold a distraught teenager as she feels the overwhelming responsibility of being a mom.

No matter our childhood or background, there is always that moment in life as a mother when we look into our child's eyes and vow to be better and more conscious for them and their future.

As with all inspirational processes, mothering requires a direct and explicit action - to be in the moment. To breathe. To be still. To simply enjoy.
To remember that through this season in our life, we have been chosen, (sometimes indirectly) to be a mom and to use these moments we have been given as incredible gifts.

Mothering is inspiration personified!

The Core of Me - Part 2

 

You know a real "ah-ha" moment when your heart skips a beat or you loudly draw in a quick breath. Reading this book about our insecurities as women has brought on a vast amount of "ah-ha" moments for me. As with all things psychological we must ask ourselves the "why" question in order to come to the root of the problem, in order to either change the behavior or just deal with the fact that we know where the problem started and the enlightenment stops there. I am not one for the latter so I become increasingly curious to ask further and dig deeper.

As I'm reading and realizing that there are roots to this insecurity of mine (which I've known, but chose to ignore, giving credit would mean having to take the steps of admitting I'm not perfect - huh??), a few key notes from Beth Moore heightened my interest.
She states:
a history of unwelcomed changes can be a breeding ground for insecurity, because it invites you to become addicted to dread. You learn to live life with the constant expectation that something bad is about to happen. And because life is life, eventually something bad will happen, deepening your commitment to forecasting doom....It's a miserable trap of self-inflicted insecurity.

Unwelcomed changes.....hmmmm.....what changed in my life growing up? Moving....moving places, moving houses, moving schools......not so much as to say that it seemed to be a negative thing because I don't even remember it being an issue (probably suppressed - right? LOL!

SIDE NOTE - to mom - this is not a run down memory lane to announce that my childhood was scarring and dreadful, quite the opposite in fact :)

But looking back and recalling times in which I had to be the new kid constantly (3 elementary, 2 middle, 2 high schools) and the feeling that everyone else already had a group of people that they had known for a very long time, led me in reading these chapters, that these changes were not necessarily welcomed. Now did they help? Sure.......I learned to make friends easily, to be a good student (no attention then) and to embrace change eagerly (see, positive!)
So much so that I soon began to want change, the newness, the starting over. I learned to have that pompous attitude of having "seen" different places and "experienced" more than other kids - to come across as better! I wanted to keep their attention by being different instead of plain and ordinary.
By the time high school came around and everyone else had years of foundational experience with each other, I began to crave a new setting as soon as I had lost the newness attention or the "interesting" part of me.

Why????

Well here's the ah-ha! If I make the change before something comes along to make the change for me, I get to be in control!

Now for all of you control freaks, you're with me, you relate.......for the others, this has gotten way too deep for a blog and you are logging off as we speak!

But truly, this has been eye opening for me because I have always wondered why I seem to actually like moving to new places - be it houses, neighborhoods, or even (Lord help my children) states. As my mother would say, I have a Gypsy complex! As I have put it in past years - I get bored easily! Hah!

You see (getting deep again), if I make circumstances surrounding me change, then I keep the spotlight off of me or my vast amount of sick "issues". Then I never have to change and become better because I'm too busy with my circumstances! If I get too settled and my life becomes too routine, I think something is going to come along and mess my life up - so what do I do? - I change circumstances before they can change me!! How's that Dr. Phil!!

Eye-opening! I needed to know this......I needed to see this........
But, as I have stated before, I do not take something on if I cannot follow through to the outcome, and then pray that I can be brave enough to make a change in my own life....

So next step.......How to convince myself to loosen the grip of my perceived control and allow life to happen, good or bad........

then again, this house is too small and I still have boxes! LOL!!

The Core of Me - Part 1

 


Insecurity........it's just a hard word for me to even say. If someone says "insecure", I think - pitiful, pathetic, fearful. Insecurity for me comes at the most inconvenient times. Just when I am feeling that I have some part of me put together, some part of me is in control, some part of me is on top of the circumstance....BAM! insecurity rears its ugly head and I just want to scream! To describe the feeling is even hard because to say the words out loud is incredibly scary.....but here we go....let's just face it head on!
It feels like a spotlight is on me and all of a sudden people are looking at me with those judging eyes. It immediately takes me back to my elementary days where this shy little girl would shiver with fear if the teacher happened to call her out in class or pick on her to come up to the front of the room. All these voices echoing in my head, "they're gonna laugh at me", "I'm not gonna know the answer", "my clothes don't look right", "my hair looks bad". In my adult mind I can rationalize everything, I know people are not even paying attention to me or what does it really matter what people think of me. But in my heart, it becomes obsessive.
Insecurity becomes self-doubt. I second-guess people's words, expressions, body-language - "did I say that right?" "are they angry at me?" "was that a negative look they just gave me?" Having someone misunderstand me or my intentions is compulsively aggravating. If I feel that someone has the wrong idea about me or has falsely judged me, I become desperate to find out why, how, when, what happened....it's like I have to know all of these answers in order to show them that they were wrong about me.
Why do I feel so easily threatened? What is it about others that seem to take away any security I have?
Why is it that I care way too much about what others think, to the point that I assume the negative so I won't be disappointed or feel like I've let them down?
Why do I become so frozen with indecision? Or obsessed with suspicion?

I labeled this entry Part 1 because it seems this season of my life has brought out feelings of insecurity all over the place and I was inspired to start a book study of Beth Moore's book: So Long Insecurity
So as I go through this book, I am hoping to face this issue head on and conquer it! Or at the very least, change some aspect of my foolish mind-set!

Your comments are welcome and appreciated, especially if you are plagued with the same "enemy" - this would help feed my insecurity that I am not the only one that has this problem!! LOL!