**The Husband's Turn to Hijack the Blog Again**
Let me say this up front. Nearly every piece of information in this blog is MY OPINION. I do my best to base my opinion on facts whenever I can, which can make me seem very wishy-washy. My opinions seem to change about almost everything... I mean, I guess that is normal, right? I do not claim to be an expert... pretty much ever. I am not smart enough to be an expert, and I think to be an expert you need to know EVERYTHING about the subject. I think it is funny when I see someone on TV that has '_____ Expert' in their title. More often than not, they have a TEAM of people that know a whole awful lot about something... but THEY them self are not an expert.
To cover a wide range of things and to help me keep myself on track, I will divide this up in to sections. I am going to write this blog very raw, so it might be a little disturbing. As a parent, I can not write these thoughts without emotion. My soul was shaken to its core yesterday. All day long, whenever any of us would talk about it, L was in my mind. I fought back tears for most of the day every time someone would bring it up. I am fighting back tears just typing those last couple of sentences.
I am fascinated by serial killers and murderers. I have multiple books about them. For years, Rachelle has been a little disturbed and worried about this. I enjoy reading about them, what they were like, how they were raised. I try to find and understand their tipping point. As best I can remember, very few of them had a bad childhood or were abused. Often times there is something that to most rational people is just a very trivial event that sets them off. This applies to rampagers and serial killers alike. The difference being that the serial killer often has a justifiable mental condition for them to continue to take lives. Rampagers are often just pissed off about an event ("temporary insanity") and when they snap out of it and realize what they have done, kill themselves so as to not live with the guilt and have to face the public outrage. Obviously there are exceptions, but based on what I know and have read, this is the typical profile.
Who in the hell kills little kids?
I think that is the absolute most disturbing thing to me. Not that he killed his mom, or that he went in to a school and shot and killed others. The most shocking and disturbing thing to me is that he was able to walk in to an elementary school, in to a Kindergarten classroom, look at a room full of 5/6 year olds and pull the trigger, multiple times. Very disturbing.
The "Facts" and My Theories
As is the nature of "news reporting" in this day, I have heard multiple reports that turned out to be false. I had heard that he killed his mother IN the classroom and then turned the gun on her students. That made sense to me.... that is how these kind of things go. There might be a few collaterals on the way to the target, you get your original target, the adrenaline is really rushing now, and you start indiscriminately firing on anyone in your path. HOWEVER, the latest that I read said that he killed his mom AT THE HOUSE, and then drove to the school, and you know the rest. To me, that does not suggest blind rage. I heard a medical professional (I believe it was a psychiatrist) that was commenting on this. She said that by doing this he was killing another part of his mom. That makes me wonder if he thought of those kids as more important to his mom than he was. It has been said that they had a fight the evening before, or the morning of (again, the 'news reports' are all over the place when it come to the facts). Was this a central theme of the argument? Did his mom actually say something to support my assumption? We will probably never know.
I have heard some say that he possibly had Aspergers or was in some way on the Autism Spectrum. He has been described as 'painfully shy', 'socially awkward', and 'a very good student'. This could support the ASD claim, but nothing has been confirmed.
At the risk of sounding like a jerk, I am on the fence if I want it to be an ASD diagnosis or not. On one hand, of course I do not want any negative attention on the autism community. They (as in the advocates) struggle enough as it is to be accepted into mainstream society and I would not want anything to set that back. On the other hand, if it comes out that he did have Aspergers or Autism, maybe this tragedy will lead to more research, more funding, better treatments, etc. etc.
Universal Health Care
I have never been a proponent of ObamaCare. I have been to countries that have a free healthcare system and it has many flaws. Hell, the military medical system IS Universal Health Care, and if you follow Rachelle's many Facebook posts about the subject, you KNOW that the military healthcare system is a pain in the ass. After reading some very thought provoking posts and commentaries in the last day, I have come to the opinion that we DO need some aspects of Universal Healthcare in place. Most importantly, access to and care of those with mental health issues. I believe it is crucial that we focus on changing the stigma associated with mental health disorders. Far too often, those with mental health issues are looked down upon, medicated, and/or thrown into either an institution, or back in to society without the proper supports needed to help them get better. We must do a better job. We are the most advanced society ever, and every day we become more advanced.
Gun Control
Probably the most contentious and widespread argument to be debated is, and will continue to be, gun control. That if the killer did not have such easy access to guns this tragedy, and many more like it, would easily be prevented. That when they wrote the 2nd Amendment, they were not thinking about technology and modern weaponry. I find it hard to argue the constitutional argument. I tend to agree with those people in a basic sense. I do not agree with those who say that taking guns off the street will solve the problem and the facts support my opinion. There are many things that are illegal... and every one of those things are still a very prominent part of our society. Drugs are illegal, yet we still have a drug problem.
Looking at the Washington D.C. and Chicago gun control laws that have been ruled unconstitutional, the murder and violent crime rates DECREASED in number, by as much as 14%, in those cities after the laws were ended versus when they were in place. Nationwide, in states that have Right-to-Carry laws, the violent crime rate is 24% lower than the rest of the U.S., the murder rate is 28% lower, and the robbery rate is 50% lower. The only conclusion I can make of this is that when lawful citizens are properly armed, unlawful persons are less likely to commit violence.
Society, in General
Easy access to violent video games, tv shows, movies is another huge argument. I do believe that our society is disenfranchised with face-to-face social interactions. I am an example of this. I would much rather communicate through email than I would through personal contact. I can formulate my questions and responses more thoughtfully and articulately. I can type something, think about it, and reword it so that it makes my point stronger, or sometimes even changes my opinion once I see it written out. I've wondered if the video games and such alter our sense of reality, of good and evil, so much that we lose touch. But I do not think that is it. I think it has more to do with the WAY we are raising our children. We have lost touch with what it means to be a parent. We are consumed by such a fast paced lifestyle and the pursuit of something better that we do not take the time to teach our children these fundamental life lessons and skills. My dad never taught me to shoot a gun, but he did make sure that I knew that guns do, in fact, kill things... make them dead, forever. I cried the first time I killed a living creature. A pigeon. Since that day, I have shot and killed many a squirrel, rabbit, and raccoon. But I have never forgotten what it is like to take the life of a living creature.
I went to Basic Training with a number of people who were experiencing their first time holding and shooting a gun. Perhaps, even to this day, the only thing that they have ever shot was a piece of paper with a target on it. It was not until I started writing this blog that I had that thought. Thinking about it more, that saddens me. I am not saying that everyone should go out and kill something so that they know what it is like... but it damn well would not be the worst thing in the world (done legally of course). Step up as parents, take your kids out of the house and teach them some valuable life lessons that the generations before us learned growing up. Heck, just playing outside is a start in this day and age.
I don't think it is because of the violent video games, though that might admittedly be biased because I enjoy playing those shooting games that are often blamed. If I die in the video game, I come back to life and continue playing. I have a hard time thinking that anyone can get this confused with reality. Does anyone really believe that when you shoot someone that they just come back to life across the neighborhood? It might desensitize us to the violence, but surely everyone can understand that 1) It is a video game and 2) that death is forever. Perhaps that is just the optimist in me, but I really hope not.
The immortality displayed in movies, to me, is a more likely companion to the real life violence. Rachelle pointed it out to me as we discussed the contents of this blog post so far. When you watch a movie and a character is shot multiple times and does not immediately die, or even lives long enough to tell the hero who the bad guy is... maybe that does more damage to our psyche. Perhaps that leads people to believe that one bullet does not really kill. But then I think back to my childhood and the shows and cartoon that I watched. I can not even count the number of times that I saw Wiley Coyote blow himself up, or Tom maul himself with a hammer, Jerry narrowly escaping each and every time. We were subjected to a LOT of violence, but it was a different time and often it was animated.
I believe a lot of the problem in the United States can be attributed to the declining importance of basic manners. Maybe not the extreme violence, but just the general lack of care and concern for our fellow man. Do we live such a fast paced life that we can not take the time to say please and thank you? We can not allow common decency become extinct. This 'me first' attitude HAS to stop. I am as guilty as the next guy at times, so this is definitely not a holier than thou issue.
Having said all of this, I believe perhaps more than any reason, that it boils down to media sensationalism. In the rush to break the story, facts are misreported and, as we have undoubtedly seen over the last 24 hours, we just flat out get the wrong information. Again, because we live in the information age and everyone has access to the newest story, we are inundated with bad news as soon as it happens. Fifty years ago, the majority of us would not know anything about Sandy Hook until we read the evening paper... after a lot more of the facts were known and the rumors were laid to rest.We would be reading a fairly comprehensive article of facts and not assumptions or 'breaking news'. I think this kind of immediate news leads us to believe it is more commonplace than it really is, which then causes the uprising of the 'we need more security/gun control/tougher laws' groups. I do not want to dismiss the need for some reforms, but violent crimes are actually on the decline. We just hear about them more often because of the flow if information.
Along with the availability of the internet and the free flow of information comes the 1st Amendment (and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations) and the rights of Free Speech/Religion/Expression. This is perhaps the greatest freedom that we enjoy, but it also comes with what I perceive as downfalls. We are free to spout off inaccurate and vile information to anyone without regard to the consequences, with very limited exception. The anonymity of the internet allows us to say things we normally would not say and to do things we would never dream of doing otherwise. This causes those who are not as strong in their core values to take what they read and hear as a challenge to do something even bigger and more heinous knowing that they will forever be immortalized. Their accountability is non-existent, but their story will live forever.
Freedom of Speech is a tricky issue. If I advocate for changes to the First Amendment, I have no leg to stand on to those who argue that if we can change one amendment, why not the other. What we need to do is take a good hard look at ourselves as a society and change it from the inside out.
Fundamentally, we need to be better people. That is the core issue. Take responsibility for your actions, take responsibility for the actions of your children. Teach others respect, tolerance... most of all teach LOVE.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Conundrum
With the recent election being "such a critical moment in history" (which one ISN'T described that way?), a lot of debates have occurred between friends, families, colleagues, etc. People will tell you who to vote for and their version of why. People will yell at you, call you names, insult your intelligence if you don't vote for who they think is best.
I have run in to my own dilemma, as most people probably have. I know who I WANT to win. I also know this person has no chance in hell of winning. So, I have had arguments with myself, with my husband and with some friends about this.
With the way the democratic system is set up in our country, and the way the media bias presents it, there are only 2 potential parties that have any shot of actually becoming the president. You are inundated with information about these 2 people, their good, their bad, their ugly. If you turn on the television, radio, computer, e-reader, phone, you are slammed with irrelevant information about one or both of these candidates -- what they ate for dinner, where they went on vacation and with whom, what color of undies they're wearing and if they're tighty-whities or boxers or the awesome combination of the two known as boxer briefs. (Hey, wait a minute! If we can MIX types of underwear, WHY can we not mix types of politicians!? Seems a little hypocritical to me!)
Neither party actually represents fully what it seems the majority of Americans want and need. Talking to people I know both intimately and superficially, it seems few, if any of them, are completely convinced either party should exist. Almost everyone I've spoken with has said they want something in the middle. A Libertarian, of sorts, though not necessarily labeling themselves as such.
Unfortunately, until I got to the ballot, I had no idea who was representing the parties of the Libertarian, or Green, or Constitution, or Justice, or Objectivist or, or, or ... Why? Because we are not presented with full information. We are not given a true opportunity to speak our voices. We are told "there are 6 numbers in the lottery, and you must pick all 6". If you only pick 3 numbers, you are not truly participating. You are wasting your time, your money, and your picks. What would be the true purpose of going to get your ticket if you don't really want to win?
The conundrum is this: if we all continue to follow the rest of the sheep and go to the polls with the mindset of 1 of 2 parties (or 6 of 6 lottery numbers), nothing will ever change. Until we all step up and make our voices heard, the voices that say "we want choices! We want real representation! We want someone who is not just a face with words, but action! We want something different!", the system will continue on the path it's on. Americans will continue to be given 2 choices of people to run this country. The party lines will continue to spread outward, and the country will continue to unravel.
I know I teach my children to stand up for themselves. I'm a believer of having convictions and standing behind them. I am a believer of making a choice, sticking to it, and being proud of that, regardless of if your opinion is frowned upon by others.
I am also, however, not a fan of purposely choosing to lose. I am not a fan of throwing away a vote to a candidate that, even if they obtain the 5% they're hoping for, will not win. I am not sure how to get the government to hear our voices if we don't buck the system and fight back against it, but I also can not, in good faith, vote for Mickey Mouse. I do not honestly think that using your right to vote and voting for the unknown will make the media stand at attention and say, "hey, maybe we SHOULD give equal time to ALL parties". I just don't think the polls is the place to do this. If you want to make a difference, it should start NOW for the 2016 election, not start now for the results of today's vote.
Unfortunately, I acquiesced to the system, in the end. I can not say I'm proud of this moment, but until our system is fixed, we start early enough, and everyone has an equal opportunity, why pick only 3 numbers when the requirement is 6? Why throw you vote out the window? Why does this system suck so bad?
I have run in to my own dilemma, as most people probably have. I know who I WANT to win. I also know this person has no chance in hell of winning. So, I have had arguments with myself, with my husband and with some friends about this.
With the way the democratic system is set up in our country, and the way the media bias presents it, there are only 2 potential parties that have any shot of actually becoming the president. You are inundated with information about these 2 people, their good, their bad, their ugly. If you turn on the television, radio, computer, e-reader, phone, you are slammed with irrelevant information about one or both of these candidates -- what they ate for dinner, where they went on vacation and with whom, what color of undies they're wearing and if they're tighty-whities or boxers or the awesome combination of the two known as boxer briefs. (Hey, wait a minute! If we can MIX types of underwear, WHY can we not mix types of politicians!? Seems a little hypocritical to me!)
Neither party actually represents fully what it seems the majority of Americans want and need. Talking to people I know both intimately and superficially, it seems few, if any of them, are completely convinced either party should exist. Almost everyone I've spoken with has said they want something in the middle. A Libertarian, of sorts, though not necessarily labeling themselves as such.
Unfortunately, until I got to the ballot, I had no idea who was representing the parties of the Libertarian, or Green, or Constitution, or Justice, or Objectivist or, or, or ... Why? Because we are not presented with full information. We are not given a true opportunity to speak our voices. We are told "there are 6 numbers in the lottery, and you must pick all 6". If you only pick 3 numbers, you are not truly participating. You are wasting your time, your money, and your picks. What would be the true purpose of going to get your ticket if you don't really want to win?
The conundrum is this: if we all continue to follow the rest of the sheep and go to the polls with the mindset of 1 of 2 parties (or 6 of 6 lottery numbers), nothing will ever change. Until we all step up and make our voices heard, the voices that say "we want choices! We want real representation! We want someone who is not just a face with words, but action! We want something different!", the system will continue on the path it's on. Americans will continue to be given 2 choices of people to run this country. The party lines will continue to spread outward, and the country will continue to unravel.
I know I teach my children to stand up for themselves. I'm a believer of having convictions and standing behind them. I am a believer of making a choice, sticking to it, and being proud of that, regardless of if your opinion is frowned upon by others.
I am also, however, not a fan of purposely choosing to lose. I am not a fan of throwing away a vote to a candidate that, even if they obtain the 5% they're hoping for, will not win. I am not sure how to get the government to hear our voices if we don't buck the system and fight back against it, but I also can not, in good faith, vote for Mickey Mouse. I do not honestly think that using your right to vote and voting for the unknown will make the media stand at attention and say, "hey, maybe we SHOULD give equal time to ALL parties". I just don't think the polls is the place to do this. If you want to make a difference, it should start NOW for the 2016 election, not start now for the results of today's vote.
Unfortunately, I acquiesced to the system, in the end. I can not say I'm proud of this moment, but until our system is fixed, we start early enough, and everyone has an equal opportunity, why pick only 3 numbers when the requirement is 6? Why throw you vote out the window? Why does this system suck so bad?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Reset!
If you know me at all, you know I'm not exactly tech-savvy. Ask me what I know about computers and I'll say I can turn them on. That's about it. I'm just that good!
Yesterday was the epitome of my luck with technology. Keep in mind this all happened IN ONE DAY. <sigh>
I woke up yesterday morning and was going to put dinner together in the Crockpot. I get out my Kindle Fire to connect to Pinterest. I get the message "wi-fi not connected". So, I go to connect. I pick the correct signal. I type in the password. I hit enter. It won't let me connect. I try again. And again. And again. I finally get frustrated, so I go to "help". It tells me how to connect (which I've already tried) and if I'm still having problems click here. I click here and it says ... get this!! It says you can not access this site because you need an internet connection!!! Gee, thanks. <sigh> Shannon later figured out I'd have to reset the system. Reset!
I get to work, do paychecks, etc. I go to deposit my check online! I scan my check. "Can not process". I scan it again. And again. And again. (Are you noticing a pattern yet?) After my 6th attempt, I quit. An hour later I decided to try again, so I reboot the computer, scan in my check, and it finally worked (after the 3rd attempt). Reset!
When I got home, I was in one heck of a mood! Between the girls not listening to me and just life in general, all I wanted to do was sit down with a bowl of ice-cream. So, I went to my room and turned on my treadmill. I hit the Start button. Nothing happened. This is pretty typical, so I knew what to do. I hit Stop. Stop. None. Start. It started right back up. Yea! I'm walking at 3.0, 5% incline and I get to 0.68 miles and BAM! It stopped abruptly! I would have given myself whiplash if I'd been running, which I was just about to start doing. I hit Stop. Nothing. Start. Nothing.
I think this is about the time I just started cursing like crazy.
I called Sears to see if my warranty was still good. Here's the crazy part. I purchased this on September 28, 2011. It got delivered on October 3, 2011. It was October 1, 2012, two days shy of the 1-year delivery date, but three days past the 1-year purchase date. :) She couldn't find my information in her system. (Of course not!)
I keep everything. This is something I have been picked on about my whole life. What's that? You need the instructions for that baby doll that was given to you five years ago? I got it! Right here in my filing cabinet along with the warranties and manuals for everything I've ever purchased. EXCEPT THE DAMN TREADMILL!!!!!!!!!! Really!?!?
LUCKILY, after an hour and a half of searching, I found the receipt that was emailed to me. I HOPE I am able to get this thing fixed. I have to call today, because, naturally, the office had closed 5 minutes before my treadmill croaked. Three phone calls and too many internet searches later, I gave up for the night.
Frustrated, pissed off, irritated, resigned, I get on my computer to just "relax" and vent on Facebook. I type as my status, "Why does technology hate me!?!?!?" I hit post. Nothing happens. (You can't make this stuff up!) I hit post, again. And again. Nothing. <sigh> I refresh my screen and get "Untrusted Connection".
I turned off my computer, stomped to my room like a teenager, and got ready for bed. I thought, "just one more attempt before bed", so I get my phone, hit my Facebook button, and ... blank screen. I threw my phone at Shannon. After a few seconds, a message appears. Shannon didn't let me see it because he thought I'd have a stroke after the day I'd just had, but I did catch enough of it to know that it indicated Facebook couldn't be accessed on my phone. Reset.
All of this in and of itself is funny enough. All in one day. But, as I sat here typing this, my co-worker came up to me and said, "Can you come find the paper in the copier? It's jammed." I go to the copier, find the paper, and pull it out, along with a long piece of melted plastic. Reset is not going to fix this. Repairman, take me away!
Reset.
Yesterday was the epitome of my luck with technology. Keep in mind this all happened IN ONE DAY. <sigh>
I woke up yesterday morning and was going to put dinner together in the Crockpot. I get out my Kindle Fire to connect to Pinterest. I get the message "wi-fi not connected". So, I go to connect. I pick the correct signal. I type in the password. I hit enter. It won't let me connect. I try again. And again. And again. I finally get frustrated, so I go to "help". It tells me how to connect (which I've already tried) and if I'm still having problems click here. I click here and it says ... get this!! It says you can not access this site because you need an internet connection!!! Gee, thanks. <sigh> Shannon later figured out I'd have to reset the system. Reset!
I get to work, do paychecks, etc. I go to deposit my check online! I scan my check. "Can not process". I scan it again. And again. And again. (Are you noticing a pattern yet?) After my 6th attempt, I quit. An hour later I decided to try again, so I reboot the computer, scan in my check, and it finally worked (after the 3rd attempt). Reset!
When I got home, I was in one heck of a mood! Between the girls not listening to me and just life in general, all I wanted to do was sit down with a bowl of ice-cream. So, I went to my room and turned on my treadmill. I hit the Start button. Nothing happened. This is pretty typical, so I knew what to do. I hit Stop. Stop. None. Start. It started right back up. Yea! I'm walking at 3.0, 5% incline and I get to 0.68 miles and BAM! It stopped abruptly! I would have given myself whiplash if I'd been running, which I was just about to start doing. I hit Stop. Nothing. Start. Nothing.
I think this is about the time I just started cursing like crazy.
I called Sears to see if my warranty was still good. Here's the crazy part. I purchased this on September 28, 2011. It got delivered on October 3, 2011. It was October 1, 2012, two days shy of the 1-year delivery date, but three days past the 1-year purchase date. :) She couldn't find my information in her system. (Of course not!)
I keep everything. This is something I have been picked on about my whole life. What's that? You need the instructions for that baby doll that was given to you five years ago? I got it! Right here in my filing cabinet along with the warranties and manuals for everything I've ever purchased. EXCEPT THE DAMN TREADMILL!!!!!!!!!! Really!?!?
LUCKILY, after an hour and a half of searching, I found the receipt that was emailed to me. I HOPE I am able to get this thing fixed. I have to call today, because, naturally, the office had closed 5 minutes before my treadmill croaked. Three phone calls and too many internet searches later, I gave up for the night.
Frustrated, pissed off, irritated, resigned, I get on my computer to just "relax" and vent on Facebook. I type as my status, "Why does technology hate me!?!?!?" I hit post. Nothing happens. (You can't make this stuff up!) I hit post, again. And again. Nothing. <sigh> I refresh my screen and get "Untrusted Connection".
I turned off my computer, stomped to my room like a teenager, and got ready for bed. I thought, "just one more attempt before bed", so I get my phone, hit my Facebook button, and ... blank screen. I threw my phone at Shannon. After a few seconds, a message appears. Shannon didn't let me see it because he thought I'd have a stroke after the day I'd just had, but I did catch enough of it to know that it indicated Facebook couldn't be accessed on my phone. Reset.
All of this in and of itself is funny enough. All in one day. But, as I sat here typing this, my co-worker came up to me and said, "Can you come find the paper in the copier? It's jammed." I go to the copier, find the paper, and pull it out, along with a long piece of melted plastic. Reset is not going to fix this. Repairman, take me away!
Reset.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Rainy Day Cleaning
Today is one of those rare rainy days that we get in San Antonio. I don't leave the house when it rains here because my anxiety level flies through the roof. It's not ME driving in the rain so much that causes my fear; it's other idiots that scare me. No one in SA knows how to drive when the sky clouds over. They're certain that, regardless of the temperature, there is black ice on the road, so they must slam on their brakes and drive 20 miles an hour in a 65 zone.
Don't get me wrong ... I love the rain! I love to sit on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, reading a book with a warm cup of coffee sitting beside me while I watch and listen to the rain.
Now, I don't get to DO this when it rains, but I love to. One, I don't have porch to speak of. Two, I have two little girls who would never allow me to have the peace and quiet required to do these things.
So, instead of getting to do this, I mix my day up with laundry, playing with the girls, reading, and perusing the internet.
Today, I was looking at Pinterest and my Aunt pinned this blog about cleaning your front-loading washer. It made the little light in my head go "ding!" We just replaced all of the towels in our house because we couldn't get the stinky-moldy smell out of the old ones. So, it naturally made sense for me to follow the instructions presented to me.
There are not many things in life that I regret doing. You can add two things to that very short list - 1) buying a front-loading washing machine, and 2) cleaning said washer for the first time seven years after purchasing it, having washed hundreds, if not thousands, of poop-covered clothes in that time.
I had no idea of all of the hidden spots that needed to be cleaned! Pull this back, put a q-tip in here, dry this off, soak that, open this. There was a whole new (unwelcome) world opened up to me today. One that I never want to see again!
It took me about 30 minutes, handfuls of baking soda, all of my remaining vinegar, 2 cups of bleach, 20 q-tips, and a full-sized towel to clean this 18" circle of death. And it's still not really clean. It's currently running an empty cycle, the first of many today.
The towel is now in the trash. My stomach is almost back where it belongs in my body. And my savings account suddenly has a new target.
So, to any of you unfortunate souls who made the trendy, colossal mistake of purchasing one of these demon machines, take heed - CLEAN THAT SUCKER REGULARLY!!!!!!! Do not wait! Or, better yet, get a new machine!!! :)
Now, go out and enjoy the rain!
Don't get me wrong ... I love the rain! I love to sit on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, reading a book with a warm cup of coffee sitting beside me while I watch and listen to the rain.
Now, I don't get to DO this when it rains, but I love to. One, I don't have porch to speak of. Two, I have two little girls who would never allow me to have the peace and quiet required to do these things.
So, instead of getting to do this, I mix my day up with laundry, playing with the girls, reading, and perusing the internet.
Today, I was looking at Pinterest and my Aunt pinned this blog about cleaning your front-loading washer. It made the little light in my head go "ding!" We just replaced all of the towels in our house because we couldn't get the stinky-moldy smell out of the old ones. So, it naturally made sense for me to follow the instructions presented to me.
There are not many things in life that I regret doing. You can add two things to that very short list - 1) buying a front-loading washing machine, and 2) cleaning said washer for the first time seven years after purchasing it, having washed hundreds, if not thousands, of poop-covered clothes in that time.
I had no idea of all of the hidden spots that needed to be cleaned! Pull this back, put a q-tip in here, dry this off, soak that, open this. There was a whole new (unwelcome) world opened up to me today. One that I never want to see again!
It took me about 30 minutes, handfuls of baking soda, all of my remaining vinegar, 2 cups of bleach, 20 q-tips, and a full-sized towel to clean this 18" circle of death. And it's still not really clean. It's currently running an empty cycle, the first of many today.
The towel is now in the trash. My stomach is almost back where it belongs in my body. And my savings account suddenly has a new target.
So, to any of you unfortunate souls who made the trendy, colossal mistake of purchasing one of these demon machines, take heed - CLEAN THAT SUCKER REGULARLY!!!!!!! Do not wait! Or, better yet, get a new machine!!! :)
Now, go out and enjoy the rain!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
The Talk (These words are not my own ...)
Greetings, all. These are not my words today. I have stolen them to share with you.
My Daddy just sent this to me in an email. He wanted to share it with me and now I want to share it with you. In the opening letter, the sender says, "We have The Talk with each child at the start of every school year. Our approach changes, but the story doesn’t. The story is always about Adam. Chase knows Adam’s story by heart now, and that is the point. Please don’t forget to have The Talk. Below is how I do it, but like Rumi said, there are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground. One way is to copy and paste this letter, change Chase to your kid’s name, and read it together. That’s what my girlfriends do. Totes fine with us." So, change "Chase" to your child's name, boy or girl, young or old. Remember to teach your child the important things in life.
Dear Chase,
Hey, baby.
Tomorrow is a big day. Third Grade – wow.
Chase – When I was in third grade, there was a little boy in my class named Adam.
Adam looked a little different and he wore funny clothes and sometimes he even smelled a little bit. Adam didn’t smile. He hung his head low and he never looked at anyone at all. Adam never did his homework. I don’t think his parents reminded him like yours do. The other kids teased Adam a lot. Whenever they did, his head hung lower and lower and lower. I never teased him, but I never told the other kids to stop, either.
And I never talked to Adam, not once. I never invited him to sit next to me at lunch, or to play with me at recess. Instead, he sat and played by himself. He must have been very lonely.
I still think about Adam every day. I wonder if Adam remembers me? Probably not. I bet if I’d asked him to play, just once, he’d still remember me.
I think that God puts people in our lives as gifts to us. The children in your class this year, they are some of God’s gifts to you.
So please treat each one like a gift from God. Every single one.
Baby, if you see a child being left out, or hurt, or teased, a part of your heart will hurt a little. Your daddy and I want you to trust that heart- ache. Your whole life, we want you to notice and trust your heart-ache. That heart ache is called compassion, and it is God’s signal to you to do something. It is God saying, Chase! Wake up! One of my babies is hurting! Do something to help! Whenever you feel compassion – be thrilled! It means God is speaking to you, and that is magic. It means He trusts you and needs you.
Sometimes the magic of compassion will make you step into the middle of a bad situation right away.
Compassion might lead you to tell a teaser to stop it and then ask the teased kid to play. You might invite a left-out kid to sit next to you at lunch. You might choose a kid for your team first who usually gets chosen last. These things will be hard to do, but you can do hard things.
Sometimes you will feel compassion but you won’t step in right away. That’s okay, too. You might choose instead to tell your teacher and then tell us. We are on your team – we are on your whole class’s team. Asking for help for someone who is hurting is not tattling, it is doing the right thing. If someone in your class needs help, please tell me, baby. We will make a plan to help together.
When God speaks to you by making your heart hurt for another, by giving you compassion, just do something. Please do not ignore God whispering to you. I so wish I had not ignored God when He spoke to me about Adam. I remember Him trying, I remember feeling compassion, but I chose fear over compassion. I wish I hadn’t. Adam could have used a friend and I could have, too.
Chase – We do not care if you are the smartest or fastest or coolest or funniest. There will be lots of contests at school, and we don’t care if you win a single one of them. We don’t care if you get straight As. We don’t care if the girls think you’re cute or whether you’re picked first or last for kickball at recess. We don’t care if you are your teacher’s favorite or not. We don’t care if you have the best clothes or most Pokemon cards or coolest gadgets. We just don’t care.
We don’t send you to school to become the best at anything at all. We already love you as much as we possibly could. You do not have to earn our love or pride and you can’t lose it. That’s done.
We send you to school to practice being brave and kind.
Kind people are brave people. Brave is not a feeling that you should wait for. It is a decision. It is a decision that compassion is more important than fear, than fitting in, than following the crowd.
Trust me, baby, it is. It is more important.
Don’t try to be the best this year, honey.
Just be grateful and kind and brave. That’s all you ever need to be.
Take care of those classmates of yours, and your teacher, too. You Belong to Each Other. You are one lucky boy . . . with all of these new gifts to unwrap this year.
I love you so much that my heart might explode.
Enjoy and cherish your gifts.
And thank you for being my favorite gift of all time.
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Unglued
I started reading a new book today called Unglued: Making Wise Choices in the Midst of Raw Emotions by Lysa TerKeurst. They've been talking about it and with the author on KLove this week and it sounded like something I've been needing to hear. I'm only on the 2nd chapter right now, but it's already hitting home.
L is starting Kindergarten this year, in thirteen days to be exact. I'm nervous. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm anxious. My biggest source of anxiety, however, comes from deciding whether or not to talk to her class about her Fragile X, about what makes her behave the way she does, talk the way she does, do anything the way she does. It's something that I think should be done, but is it something I want to do?
The answer was thrown at me full force today. I realize I don't have a choice.
When I went to pick L up from daycare today, the teacher in her room called me over. This particular teacher is not the one that's normally in there. L had her previously and she is K's teacher now, so she knows L well, loves her immensely, and thinks of L as her own. This particular teacher understands L and wants to protect her. And for that, today especially, I can not thank her enough.
It appears as though a little boy made L cry today. I'm not 100% sure what the circumstances were or how it all started, but he began to make fun of L because she "still wears a diaper". He proceeded to call her a baby, pointed at her, and laughed. When she began to cry and say "I'm not a baby", he antagonized her even more.
The teacher, upon hearing a commotion, approached them and found out what was happening. She immediately reprimanded the boy and allowed L to go to her safe place to cry it out. When the teacher explained to him that L had special needs and wasn't able to use the potty yet, he said, "She's stupid!" and started laughing.
Thank goodness, when the teacher told the boy's dad about this, he was pissed and said, "Rest assured, I will take care of this!"
In the meantime, I have a little girl whose feelings have been hurt and she was able to comprehend what was happening in that moment, enough to be brought to tears.
I realized today that the choice has been made for me. I must talk to L's class when she starts school in two weeks. I've always been afraid, but as Lysa says in her book, "What kept me from making changes was the feeling that I wouldn't do it perfectly." I know now that, while I may stumble through talking with her class and come unglued, I can't let fear prevent me from changing the way my daughter will be treated by her peers. I must rely on faith to get me through it - faith in myself that the words will come, and faith in her peers that they will walk away with a better understanding of my little girl.
This will be a good year! I just have to learn to not come unglued.
L is starting Kindergarten this year, in thirteen days to be exact. I'm nervous. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm anxious. My biggest source of anxiety, however, comes from deciding whether or not to talk to her class about her Fragile X, about what makes her behave the way she does, talk the way she does, do anything the way she does. It's something that I think should be done, but is it something I want to do?
The answer was thrown at me full force today. I realize I don't have a choice.
When I went to pick L up from daycare today, the teacher in her room called me over. This particular teacher is not the one that's normally in there. L had her previously and she is K's teacher now, so she knows L well, loves her immensely, and thinks of L as her own. This particular teacher understands L and wants to protect her. And for that, today especially, I can not thank her enough.
It appears as though a little boy made L cry today. I'm not 100% sure what the circumstances were or how it all started, but he began to make fun of L because she "still wears a diaper". He proceeded to call her a baby, pointed at her, and laughed. When she began to cry and say "I'm not a baby", he antagonized her even more.
The teacher, upon hearing a commotion, approached them and found out what was happening. She immediately reprimanded the boy and allowed L to go to her safe place to cry it out. When the teacher explained to him that L had special needs and wasn't able to use the potty yet, he said, "She's stupid!" and started laughing.
Thank goodness, when the teacher told the boy's dad about this, he was pissed and said, "Rest assured, I will take care of this!"
In the meantime, I have a little girl whose feelings have been hurt and she was able to comprehend what was happening in that moment, enough to be brought to tears.
I realized today that the choice has been made for me. I must talk to L's class when she starts school in two weeks. I've always been afraid, but as Lysa says in her book, "What kept me from making changes was the feeling that I wouldn't do it perfectly." I know now that, while I may stumble through talking with her class and come unglued, I can't let fear prevent me from changing the way my daughter will be treated by her peers. I must rely on faith to get me through it - faith in myself that the words will come, and faith in her peers that they will walk away with a better understanding of my little girl.
This will be a good year! I just have to learn to not come unglued.
Monday, July 23, 2012
*Guest Blogger* Our Story and Forgiveness
I wrote the following way back in 1995. Long before I ever knew of Rachelle or what my life would entail. I used to write a lot of poems and just various writings. It was a cathartic process and many times what might look like a writing directed towards someone in particular, really wasn't. Often, they were just dreams of what I wanted my life to look like.
Without My Heaven
My life has had its ups and downs
The Kings and Queens their broken crowns
But if all of this stands tall and true
Then tell me just why I have you
Someone who cares and feels my pain
To put up with me and still be sane
Without you in my life
To help me through the toils and strife
Would be close to never and next to no way
That I would make it through one more day
The love you give to me each night
Gives me hope that I just might
Hold on to you forever and then
End each night with a grateful AMEN
The Kings and Queens their broken crowns
But if all of this stands tall and true
Then tell me just why I have you
Someone who cares and feels my pain
To put up with me and still be sane
Without you in my life
To help me through the toils and strife
Would be close to never and next to no way
That I would make it through one more day
The love you give to me each night
Gives me hope that I just might
Hold on to you forever and then
End each night with a grateful AMEN
Then, on August 4th, 2004, I found her. The one girl that I wanted to spend my life with. I knew Rachelle way before that night. We originally met at Cannon Air Force Base, New Mexico at a Squadron Christmas Party in 1998. She was going to school at Texas Tech University in Lubbock and was dating a co-worker friend of mine. Rachelle does not remember meeting me, but I do remember her. It was a brief introduction, but I remember thinking she was pretty damn hot.
Fast forward a few months and I am now stationed at Yokota Air Base, Japan, and as luck would have it, again with her boyfriend. She had come to visit him and, once again, we met. She remembers this one. We exchanged email addresses and became email buddies. She would forward funny or poignant emails on occasion and vice versa. She sent me an invitation to her graduation from college (I never did send her a gift). We were long distance acquaintances, if nothing else.
At some point, Rachelle and her boyfriend broke up. He got out of the Air Force, I lost contact with him and then I moved on to Spangdahlem Air Base, Germany. After two years in Germany, I was getting ready to move to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. I bought a brand new Ford Ranger and it was to be delivered to a dealership in Austin, Texas (for the life of me I have never figured out why they delivered it to Austin instead of San Antonio... but damn am I glad that they did). I remembered that Rachelle was now living in Austin, so I sent her an email asking her if she could pick me up at the airport. For her troubles I would take her to dinner. I arrived in Austin on the 4th of August and somehow we missed each other in the terminal (knowing her she was probably in the bathroom). I called her once I got down to baggage claim and did not see her. She was upstairs and said she would be right down. When I saw her at the top of the stairs, I knew that I had to date her... or maybe I was just horny and wanted to get laid... it was a long time ago and I do not remember that level of detail ;-).
We went to dinner at Macaroni Grill. I sweet talked my way into spending the night in her bed. I was too scared to try anything and I never touched her. She later told me that if I had she would have beat the shit out of me and never talked to me again. The next day she picked me up at her apartment and took me to get my truck. She went back to work, but told me I was welcome to stay at her apartment until she got home from work, but then she had to go to her second job. I had no where else to be and I still wanted to try to work my magic, so I stayed. I met her at her second job when she got off and we decided we needed to go eat dinner. She jokingly asked if she could drive my brand spankin' new truck. I said yes and she just gave me this 'are you serious? look'. We traded keys and we took off. I stayed the night for a second night in a row, but my smooth moves (lol) were not really getting me anywhere. OK, I did not even attempt anything remotely resembling flirting... she was quite intimidating.
I woke up the next morning and drove to San Antonio, but I could not get this beautiful girl off of my mind. I'm pretty sure I called her every day and we agreed that I could visit her over the weekend. She called it stalking, I called it pursuing. She told me that she would never date a smoker. I quit. For the next couple of weeks we took turns at making the hour and a half trek to see each other.
It was about three weeks later that we finally kissed.
We had a whirlwind romance and three months later we started making plans for our wedding. We said our vows in front of our friends, family, and God on October 15, 2005. Less than two years later, we welcomed L into this world and three months after that I went to Korea for a year. July 24th, 2008 we received our Fragile X diagnosis... we were three months pregnant with K.
Fast forward to some point after K was born and I started losing sight of the vows I made. I withdrew, I became depressed. I never was very good about helping with the upkeep of the house, but it got worse. That is a period of my life that is very foggy. I just sank into my hole and nothing could bring me out. I could tell it was taking a toll on Rachelle and there were times that I tried, I really did try... but my hole was too deep. I was sure that I lost Rachelle and that we were only staying together because it was easier that way. It was easier to stay together than it was to get divorced, THAT was the only thing keeping us together. I was sure that I did not love her as my wife and that she did not love me as her husband. I had convinced myself that we had love for each other as the mother and father of our children, nothing more, simple as that.
This was no way to live, so I began making plans for divorce. I picked out an apartment, I had figured out a budget and how much I would give Rachelle each month. The only thing I had not decided on was when I would leave her. For all intents and purposes, I was living an entirely separate life away from Rachelle. She knew we were not well, but she had no clue how far away I really was.
May 23rd and 24th, 2012 - It all came to a head. We finally talked. I had gotten so wrapped up in my job, our children, the Fragile X world. I was so wrapped up in everything EXCEPT for Rachelle, that we failed to communicate the way we needed to. We laid it all on the line and it was anything but pretty. I told her everything. I was absolutely positive that she would not want me in her life anymore. I had betrayed her love, I had lied to her, there was no reason for her to WANT to stay married to me any longer. No reason except for her immeasurable love for me. Rachelle NEVER, not for a single moment, stopped loving me. Not once did she ever NOT want me to be her husband... but I lost sight of that, big time.
I screwed up big time and it cost us both a lot. It cost us some good friends who may never forgive me. It cost Rachelle and I time. Time that we will never get back.
Since that day, we have made wonderful progress. We are both happy, happier than we have ever been in fact. I have renewed my faith and will continue my spiritual walk, with Rachelle's help and with the help of some very dear friends. The one thing that will always stick with me is when Rachelle looked at me with such intense hurt in her eyes and said, "I forgive you."
I will live the rest of my life making it up to her because I never again want to forget that I made a promise to her - To Have and To Hold From This Day Forward, For Better or For Worse, For Richer, For Poorer, In Sickness and In Health, To Love and To Cherish; From This Day Forward Until Death Do Us Part.
We went to dinner at Macaroni Grill. I sweet talked my way into spending the night in her bed. I was too scared to try anything and I never touched her. She later told me that if I had she would have beat the shit out of me and never talked to me again. The next day she picked me up at her apartment and took me to get my truck. She went back to work, but told me I was welcome to stay at her apartment until she got home from work, but then she had to go to her second job. I had no where else to be and I still wanted to try to work my magic, so I stayed. I met her at her second job when she got off and we decided we needed to go eat dinner. She jokingly asked if she could drive my brand spankin' new truck. I said yes and she just gave me this 'are you serious? look'. We traded keys and we took off. I stayed the night for a second night in a row, but my smooth moves (lol) were not really getting me anywhere. OK, I did not even attempt anything remotely resembling flirting... she was quite intimidating.
I woke up the next morning and drove to San Antonio, but I could not get this beautiful girl off of my mind. I'm pretty sure I called her every day and we agreed that I could visit her over the weekend. She called it stalking, I called it pursuing. She told me that she would never date a smoker. I quit. For the next couple of weeks we took turns at making the hour and a half trek to see each other.
It was about three weeks later that we finally kissed.
We had a whirlwind romance and three months later we started making plans for our wedding. We said our vows in front of our friends, family, and God on October 15, 2005. Less than two years later, we welcomed L into this world and three months after that I went to Korea for a year. July 24th, 2008 we received our Fragile X diagnosis... we were three months pregnant with K.
Fast forward to some point after K was born and I started losing sight of the vows I made. I withdrew, I became depressed. I never was very good about helping with the upkeep of the house, but it got worse. That is a period of my life that is very foggy. I just sank into my hole and nothing could bring me out. I could tell it was taking a toll on Rachelle and there were times that I tried, I really did try... but my hole was too deep. I was sure that I lost Rachelle and that we were only staying together because it was easier that way. It was easier to stay together than it was to get divorced, THAT was the only thing keeping us together. I was sure that I did not love her as my wife and that she did not love me as her husband. I had convinced myself that we had love for each other as the mother and father of our children, nothing more, simple as that.
This was no way to live, so I began making plans for divorce. I picked out an apartment, I had figured out a budget and how much I would give Rachelle each month. The only thing I had not decided on was when I would leave her. For all intents and purposes, I was living an entirely separate life away from Rachelle. She knew we were not well, but she had no clue how far away I really was.
May 23rd and 24th, 2012 - It all came to a head. We finally talked. I had gotten so wrapped up in my job, our children, the Fragile X world. I was so wrapped up in everything EXCEPT for Rachelle, that we failed to communicate the way we needed to. We laid it all on the line and it was anything but pretty. I told her everything. I was absolutely positive that she would not want me in her life anymore. I had betrayed her love, I had lied to her, there was no reason for her to WANT to stay married to me any longer. No reason except for her immeasurable love for me. Rachelle NEVER, not for a single moment, stopped loving me. Not once did she ever NOT want me to be her husband... but I lost sight of that, big time.
I screwed up big time and it cost us both a lot. It cost us some good friends who may never forgive me. It cost Rachelle and I time. Time that we will never get back.
Since that day, we have made wonderful progress. We are both happy, happier than we have ever been in fact. I have renewed my faith and will continue my spiritual walk, with Rachelle's help and with the help of some very dear friends. The one thing that will always stick with me is when Rachelle looked at me with such intense hurt in her eyes and said, "I forgive you."
I will live the rest of my life making it up to her because I never again want to forget that I made a promise to her - To Have and To Hold From This Day Forward, For Better or For Worse, For Richer, For Poorer, In Sickness and In Health, To Love and To Cherish; From This Day Forward Until Death Do Us Part.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
I Want You to Know
Last night, we went to Rudy's BBQ for dinner. This is a place we enjoy as a family, a place we've been to many, many times in the past 5 years. The girls love the sausage and almost always ask for seconds of the creamed corn. They both like to pour their own bbq sauce onto their butcher paper. They both break their plastic forks at least once per meal.
We had quite the different experience last night, though. Shannon went to get our drinks while the girls and I went to sit down. I told them "sit here and I'm going to get the forks". This is the same procedure that has occurred numerous times before. However, last night, when I began getting our plastic-wear, I see L walking up to me. She has tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong, baby?" I ask her concerned.
"I'm scared" she cried to me.
Scared? Scared of what? She never lost sight of me. She was with her sister. Her daddy was also within sight of her. She was in a "familiar" place. What was she scared of?
I knelt down, gave her a hug, held her hand, finished getting the setup, and started walking back to the table. She didn't want to walk, though. She grabbed at me, held on to my leg tightly, and said she was scared again. So, I held her close to me as we made our way back to our table.
Once we sat down, she buried her head in to my shoulder, not wanting to let go. I held her for a few minutes and then began getting the girls' plates ready. (That is no easy task with one hand.) L continued crying, not wanting to be untouched.
We did what we could to get her to eat as we stuffed our mouths faster than we've ever done before. She kept saying, "I wanna go home". It was heart-breaking. She eventually went and sat on Shannon's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as K and I finished eating and cleaned up our table in record time.
As soon as we got up from the table, L started smiling and saying, "We going home now?" I've never seen her so happy.
What caused this strange situation? Fragile X Syndrome. L was experiencing a high anxiety moment, a common symptom of FX individuals. No matter what we did, nothing could alleviate her fears. She was out of her comfort zone for a reason unknown to us, and all we could do was to take her home, her safe place.
I tell you this story of last night not because it was a completely uncommon occurrence or something new. I am sharing it with you because today is National Fragile X Awareness Day and I want to make you aware of what a typical family outing with a child with Fragile X can be like. I want you to know what Fragile X is, and how it manifests itself. I want you to know.
Fragile X Syndrome is the leading known cause of inherited mental impairment. FXS is the leading known genetic cause of autism. It can cause ADD, ADHD, autism and autistic behaviors, social anxiety, hand-biting and/or flapping, poor eye contact, sensory disorders and increased risk for aggression. Gross motor skills, fine motor skills, cognitive delays ... the list is seemingly endless.
The one thing I know for sure, though, about Fragile X Syndrome is this: I love my daughter that is affected. I love my friends' children who are affected. They are all beautiful, loving, caring people who have taught me more about life than the 30 years of living before knowing about FX. We have been blessed beyond measure, and for that, I am truly thankful.
For more information, please visit www.fraxa.org or www.fragilex.org. Now, learn something new today, and go out and spread the word!
We had quite the different experience last night, though. Shannon went to get our drinks while the girls and I went to sit down. I told them "sit here and I'm going to get the forks". This is the same procedure that has occurred numerous times before. However, last night, when I began getting our plastic-wear, I see L walking up to me. She has tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong, baby?" I ask her concerned.
"I'm scared" she cried to me.
Scared? Scared of what? She never lost sight of me. She was with her sister. Her daddy was also within sight of her. She was in a "familiar" place. What was she scared of?
I knelt down, gave her a hug, held her hand, finished getting the setup, and started walking back to the table. She didn't want to walk, though. She grabbed at me, held on to my leg tightly, and said she was scared again. So, I held her close to me as we made our way back to our table.
Once we sat down, she buried her head in to my shoulder, not wanting to let go. I held her for a few minutes and then began getting the girls' plates ready. (That is no easy task with one hand.) L continued crying, not wanting to be untouched.
We did what we could to get her to eat as we stuffed our mouths faster than we've ever done before. She kept saying, "I wanna go home". It was heart-breaking. She eventually went and sat on Shannon's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as K and I finished eating and cleaned up our table in record time.
As soon as we got up from the table, L started smiling and saying, "We going home now?" I've never seen her so happy.
What caused this strange situation? Fragile X Syndrome. L was experiencing a high anxiety moment, a common symptom of FX individuals. No matter what we did, nothing could alleviate her fears. She was out of her comfort zone for a reason unknown to us, and all we could do was to take her home, her safe place.
I tell you this story of last night not because it was a completely uncommon occurrence or something new. I am sharing it with you because today is National Fragile X Awareness Day and I want to make you aware of what a typical family outing with a child with Fragile X can be like. I want you to know what Fragile X is, and how it manifests itself. I want you to know.
Fragile X Syndrome is the leading known cause of inherited mental impairment. FXS is the leading known genetic cause of autism. It can cause ADD, ADHD, autism and autistic behaviors, social anxiety, hand-biting and/or flapping, poor eye contact, sensory disorders and increased risk for aggression. Gross motor skills, fine motor skills, cognitive delays ... the list is seemingly endless.
The one thing I know for sure, though, about Fragile X Syndrome is this: I love my daughter that is affected. I love my friends' children who are affected. They are all beautiful, loving, caring people who have taught me more about life than the 30 years of living before knowing about FX. We have been blessed beyond measure, and for that, I am truly thankful.
For more information, please visit www.fraxa.org or www.fragilex.org. Now, learn something new today, and go out and spread the word!
Friday, July 13, 2012
The Love of Friends
Back in February, I wrote about a new "program" three of my friends and I were starting. A page was created on Facebook titled "She-Woman-Weight-Haters Club". This is a place for the four of us to go and tell each other what we have eaten each day, what exercises we've done, etc. The only people that can see it are the four of us. That gives us the freedom to be open with each other, post our real weights each week, and state our goals.
It's also served as so much more, to me at least. It has allowed me to realize the true meaning of friendship. We've talked about so much more on this page than just our weights and body sizes. Things from our regular, busy, and stressful lives have spilled over and become bonding experiences. I've been able to talk about things in this group that I never thought I'd be comfortable talking about with anyone. I've shared my feelings, vented, screamed, and cried on this page. I've also celebrated, danced, smiled, and laughed.
Sometimes, you don't realize how far you've fallen or that you've given up. It takes special people to make you see it, and help you up. And while this journey originally began as a "weight-loss" motivator, it's turned in to so much more. It's helped me out of a pit of despair I didn't even know I'd fallen in to. It helped put the sparkle back in to my eyes and added a bounce to my step.
I feel like I've become a better mother, a better wife, and a better friend through this adventure. I'm happier than I've been since ... I don't even know. Maybe I've never been this happy (which is quite ironic since this study just came out).
I will more than likely not reach the goal I set for myself before I go to Miami in 11 days. I've still got 2 more weigh-ins before stepping on the plane, but I also still have 7 pounds to go. I think I've realized, though, that the number's not really what it's about! I've lost 23 pounds since February 26. That's pretty awesome!
However, what's more important is that I'm feeling better about myself. I'm looking in the mirror and smiling now instead of being disgusted. I'm looking at my husband and thinking "let's go to bed" instead of "don't look at me". I'm hitting my real goals which were to feel good in my own skin, look in the mirror without cringing, and play with my kids until they're tired.
I'm doing this with my friends and with the support of my husband. But, more importantly, I'm doing this for me. And I'm succeeding!!!!
It's also served as so much more, to me at least. It has allowed me to realize the true meaning of friendship. We've talked about so much more on this page than just our weights and body sizes. Things from our regular, busy, and stressful lives have spilled over and become bonding experiences. I've been able to talk about things in this group that I never thought I'd be comfortable talking about with anyone. I've shared my feelings, vented, screamed, and cried on this page. I've also celebrated, danced, smiled, and laughed.
Sometimes, you don't realize how far you've fallen or that you've given up. It takes special people to make you see it, and help you up. And while this journey originally began as a "weight-loss" motivator, it's turned in to so much more. It's helped me out of a pit of despair I didn't even know I'd fallen in to. It helped put the sparkle back in to my eyes and added a bounce to my step.
I feel like I've become a better mother, a better wife, and a better friend through this adventure. I'm happier than I've been since ... I don't even know. Maybe I've never been this happy (which is quite ironic since this study just came out).
I will more than likely not reach the goal I set for myself before I go to Miami in 11 days. I've still got 2 more weigh-ins before stepping on the plane, but I also still have 7 pounds to go. I think I've realized, though, that the number's not really what it's about! I've lost 23 pounds since February 26. That's pretty awesome!
However, what's more important is that I'm feeling better about myself. I'm looking in the mirror and smiling now instead of being disgusted. I'm looking at my husband and thinking "let's go to bed" instead of "don't look at me". I'm hitting my real goals which were to feel good in my own skin, look in the mirror without cringing, and play with my kids until they're tired.
I'm doing this with my friends and with the support of my husband. But, more importantly, I'm doing this for me. And I'm succeeding!!!!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Speak Words of Love
"She's such a retard."
I try my damnedest to let kids be kids. When they're arguing over a toy, I sit back and let them "fight it out", unless it gets physical. When they're crying, I hug them and console them. However, when the above statement comes out of a child's mouth, I stop walking, turn around, and say, "I'm sorry?? What did you just say?"
The little girls look at me, fear in their eyes, as one points to the other and says, "She said her sister's a retard." (I have no idea who "her" or "her sister" is ...)
"No, ma'am. That word is not nice. We do not use that word."
It is at this time that the teacher, who has been getting L's breakfast for her, hears me and asks what just happened. I tell her, and she looks so shocked and so sad.
I turn to walk towards the kitchen to put L's medicine in her cup and then go to the car to get her pull-ups. As I'm walking, tears start to sting my eyes and my stomach feels queasy.
I will be the first to admit that, while I've never liked the word and don't use it myself, I've never been personally offended when others have used it. I know what people "mean" when they say it, and I'll call them out on it, but I've never had that just-punched-in-the-gut feeling when it was said ... until this morning.
I don't know if it was because a little innocent child was using it in such an obviously negative way or if it was because I was looking at L flapping away in her chair, smiling happily as I was walking toward her when I heard it, but I felt sick.
Upon walking back in to the room with L's pull-ups, I noticed the aforementioned little girl crying. The teacher had apparently spoken with her, and now she felt sad and guilty about a word that she probably doesn't even realize can have such an impact on people. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, and let her know that everything would be okay, but I just kept on walking, unsure of what to do.
All I can hope is that she is old enough to remember this exact moment and realize that words can affect people, both negatively and positively. Hopefully, next time, she will stop herself and think about what her words actually mean.
In the meantime, all I can do is love my children and make sure the words they speak are words of love.
I try my damnedest to let kids be kids. When they're arguing over a toy, I sit back and let them "fight it out", unless it gets physical. When they're crying, I hug them and console them. However, when the above statement comes out of a child's mouth, I stop walking, turn around, and say, "I'm sorry?? What did you just say?"
The little girls look at me, fear in their eyes, as one points to the other and says, "She said her sister's a retard." (I have no idea who "her" or "her sister" is ...)
"No, ma'am. That word is not nice. We do not use that word."
It is at this time that the teacher, who has been getting L's breakfast for her, hears me and asks what just happened. I tell her, and she looks so shocked and so sad.
I turn to walk towards the kitchen to put L's medicine in her cup and then go to the car to get her pull-ups. As I'm walking, tears start to sting my eyes and my stomach feels queasy.
I will be the first to admit that, while I've never liked the word and don't use it myself, I've never been personally offended when others have used it. I know what people "mean" when they say it, and I'll call them out on it, but I've never had that just-punched-in-the-gut feeling when it was said ... until this morning.
I don't know if it was because a little innocent child was using it in such an obviously negative way or if it was because I was looking at L flapping away in her chair, smiling happily as I was walking toward her when I heard it, but I felt sick.
Upon walking back in to the room with L's pull-ups, I noticed the aforementioned little girl crying. The teacher had apparently spoken with her, and now she felt sad and guilty about a word that she probably doesn't even realize can have such an impact on people. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, and let her know that everything would be okay, but I just kept on walking, unsure of what to do.
All I can hope is that she is old enough to remember this exact moment and realize that words can affect people, both negatively and positively. Hopefully, next time, she will stop herself and think about what her words actually mean.
In the meantime, all I can do is love my children and make sure the words they speak are words of love.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
What a May!
This is a month to go down in the record books as one of the worst and best of my life. I have had such an emotional month that I have a hard time believing my heart's still beating.
First, and foremost, I turned 33. That's only 7 years from being 40! haha. Thirty-three!! That number just seems odd to me (I mean, besides the fact that it's an odd number, for all of you smart-asses out there!) It seems ... I don't know. Maybe it seems like this is an age at which I should know what my life is supposed to be about, what I want to do, etc. Yet, that's not the case. I still feel just as lost and floundering as ever. Will that ever change?
Second, I got the official letter last night. I think I was pretty much ready for it, but it still hurt to get it. I did not get accepted in to the Speech Path leveling courses. They only took 10 (I called them yesterday). I was apparently not one of the 10. The official email notice hit my inbox last night around 10:00. Boo! So, now I'm left wondering what my next step is. I still know that I want to help people, help them accomplish something, feel better, etc. I want to make a difference in someone's life. That's all I know. Now I just need to figure out how to do that.
Finally, and most importantly . . . tough subject here. Maybe too tough to talk about. It was the worst moment of my life. It was the best moment of my life. My heart is pounding just thinking about writing about this. However, writing things down can sometimes be cathartic and that is something I need. <deep breath>
My marriage almost crumpled. I allowed my love for my husband to get buried under all of the stresses of life. He, too, allowed his love for me to get hidden behind the curtains. Divorce was imminent. There were things we needed to sort out first, so we both just kept letting ourselves get deeper and deeper in the pit of despair instead of taking the time to sit down and actually talk. Instead of looking each other in the eye and working on it, we just let it all slip away.
And then lightning stuck and thunder boomed, shaking our walls and knocking us to the ground. When we looked up from our collapsed, bruised bodies, we saw what both of us had been overlooking for years. There was that person, the one we fell in love with so many years ago. We were right there the whole time, but we never saw each other through the murky waters. How we kept missing each other, I'll never know, but there we were. Two souls who promised to love each other through thickness and thin, sickness and health, better or worse, until death do we part.
As the tears started to flow and the words came spilling out, we realized that this is the life we still want - the one where we stand, hand in hand, in front of God, declaring our love, honor, and faithfulness to each other and to Him.
It's going to be a rough road and a long journey, but it's one we want to take together. We have learned so much in the last few weeks, both about each other and about ourselves. The most important thing we have learned is that we are able to surprise each other and surprise ourselves with our love and our strength and our ability to forgive.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13
First, and foremost, I turned 33. That's only 7 years from being 40! haha. Thirty-three!! That number just seems odd to me (I mean, besides the fact that it's an odd number, for all of you smart-asses out there!) It seems ... I don't know. Maybe it seems like this is an age at which I should know what my life is supposed to be about, what I want to do, etc. Yet, that's not the case. I still feel just as lost and floundering as ever. Will that ever change?
Second, I got the official letter last night. I think I was pretty much ready for it, but it still hurt to get it. I did not get accepted in to the Speech Path leveling courses. They only took 10 (I called them yesterday). I was apparently not one of the 10. The official email notice hit my inbox last night around 10:00. Boo! So, now I'm left wondering what my next step is. I still know that I want to help people, help them accomplish something, feel better, etc. I want to make a difference in someone's life. That's all I know. Now I just need to figure out how to do that.
Finally, and most importantly . . . tough subject here. Maybe too tough to talk about. It was the worst moment of my life. It was the best moment of my life. My heart is pounding just thinking about writing about this. However, writing things down can sometimes be cathartic and that is something I need. <deep breath>
My marriage almost crumpled. I allowed my love for my husband to get buried under all of the stresses of life. He, too, allowed his love for me to get hidden behind the curtains. Divorce was imminent. There were things we needed to sort out first, so we both just kept letting ourselves get deeper and deeper in the pit of despair instead of taking the time to sit down and actually talk. Instead of looking each other in the eye and working on it, we just let it all slip away.
And then lightning stuck and thunder boomed, shaking our walls and knocking us to the ground. When we looked up from our collapsed, bruised bodies, we saw what both of us had been overlooking for years. There was that person, the one we fell in love with so many years ago. We were right there the whole time, but we never saw each other through the murky waters. How we kept missing each other, I'll never know, but there we were. Two souls who promised to love each other through thickness and thin, sickness and health, better or worse, until death do we part.
As the tears started to flow and the words came spilling out, we realized that this is the life we still want - the one where we stand, hand in hand, in front of God, declaring our love, honor, and faithfulness to each other and to Him.
It's going to be a rough road and a long journey, but it's one we want to take together. We have learned so much in the last few weeks, both about each other and about ourselves. The most important thing we have learned is that we are able to surprise each other and surprise ourselves with our love and our strength and our ability to forgive.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
STX2OhMy!
I was standing in a fit of laughter and tears. I look at L's teacher and say, "I'm not sure if I'm laughing or crying right now."
I had gone to pick L up from school, as I do every day. She comes walking out with her classmates and sits on the bench beside me. I stand up to talk to her teacher, inform her about the study that L has entered in to. (She started taking some pills as part of a Fragile X drug trial called STX209.) That's when it all starts . . .
It rained just a little bit this morning, enough to leave small puddles on the sidewalk. I look over and see L jumping around in circles, bounding up in down in a few puddles, with her socks and shoes off. When did she have time to do that!?
I look at her teacher and we both giggle. I look back at L, who has proceeded to walk further down the walk way, and she is pulling her second leg out of her pants.
There's my daughter, standing there in her (oversized, thank goodness) t-shirt and pull-up. No pants. No socks. No shoes. Just bare legs from the hips down.
By this time, tears are running down my face and I am hiding behind a column of bricks because I just can not stop laughing. This is not a time to laugh! That only encourages the behavior. But it's impossible not to, especially for me ;)
One of her teachers is able to bring L back to the porch where she proceeds to attempt to put L's pants back on. L suddenly turns in to a soft pretzel. Legs cross, arms flail like she's made of rubber, body morphs in to a water wigglie, lacking control, even from an outside source. This is about the time I say my quote mentioned above.
It was quite a sight, seeing 3 grown women unable to maneuver this 5 year old child into a position to put on her clothes. She finally gets her pants put back on and takes off down the walk way again. (She's a fast little sucker!)
Since she is not responding to my beckoning, I take off my high heels (what a day to choose to wear a dress and heels, huh? -- yes! I own some!!) and go down to get her. I put my shoes back on and proceed to carry a 39 pound mass of gel that is bent in half, backward, down the steps to my car. How I didn't fall and/or break a heel, I have no idea!
The car ride to daycare was not lacking in entertainment, either. Apparently, she managed to get a kazoo inside the vehicle and had no qualms about creating the most interesting, loud, and animated song I've ever heard. I broke out in fits of laughter several times in that 20 minute drive.
Suffice it to say, something happened to my child today. I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, but the only change has been the meds. It doesn't seem as though it's possible, seeing as she's only taken 3 pills so far, but if this is an effect of those . . . it should be an interesting 4 months!!!!
I had gone to pick L up from school, as I do every day. She comes walking out with her classmates and sits on the bench beside me. I stand up to talk to her teacher, inform her about the study that L has entered in to. (She started taking some pills as part of a Fragile X drug trial called STX209.) That's when it all starts . . .
It rained just a little bit this morning, enough to leave small puddles on the sidewalk. I look over and see L jumping around in circles, bounding up in down in a few puddles, with her socks and shoes off. When did she have time to do that!?
I look at her teacher and we both giggle. I look back at L, who has proceeded to walk further down the walk way, and she is pulling her second leg out of her pants.
There's my daughter, standing there in her (oversized, thank goodness) t-shirt and pull-up. No pants. No socks. No shoes. Just bare legs from the hips down.
By this time, tears are running down my face and I am hiding behind a column of bricks because I just can not stop laughing. This is not a time to laugh! That only encourages the behavior. But it's impossible not to, especially for me ;)
One of her teachers is able to bring L back to the porch where she proceeds to attempt to put L's pants back on. L suddenly turns in to a soft pretzel. Legs cross, arms flail like she's made of rubber, body morphs in to a water wigglie, lacking control, even from an outside source. This is about the time I say my quote mentioned above.
It was quite a sight, seeing 3 grown women unable to maneuver this 5 year old child into a position to put on her clothes. She finally gets her pants put back on and takes off down the walk way again. (She's a fast little sucker!)
Since she is not responding to my beckoning, I take off my high heels (what a day to choose to wear a dress and heels, huh? -- yes! I own some!!) and go down to get her. I put my shoes back on and proceed to carry a 39 pound mass of gel that is bent in half, backward, down the steps to my car. How I didn't fall and/or break a heel, I have no idea!
The car ride to daycare was not lacking in entertainment, either. Apparently, she managed to get a kazoo inside the vehicle and had no qualms about creating the most interesting, loud, and animated song I've ever heard. I broke out in fits of laughter several times in that 20 minute drive.
Suffice it to say, something happened to my child today. I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, but the only change has been the meds. It doesn't seem as though it's possible, seeing as she's only taken 3 pills so far, but if this is an effect of those . . . it should be an interesting 4 months!!!!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
(Un)answered Prayers
There are a lot of things going on in my life, a lot of changes. I have so many decisions to make, none of which are easy, and all of which will affect every person in my house, and a few outside of it.
As you may know, I've applied for leveling classes for a Speech Pathology program. Basically, the leveling classes are courses I have to take that my English degree did not require but a Communication Disorders degree does. These classes have to be taken before I can apply for the graduate program. My application was sent in in December (the due date was April 1). I'm still waiting for a reply of acceptance or rejection. I'm not used to waiting for such an important decision. I want to know now and my patience is running out. lol.
Additionally, every day, it is getting harder to drop the girls off at daycare and head in to work. A few months ago, the girls started looking me in the eye and asking if they could go home with me instead of going daycare. There was no prompting in this, I never mentioned possibly quitting work and going back to school and staying home with them. It was just out of the blue. And both of them! It's like they had a secret pow-wow in their room in their own language and decided to ambush me with Puss-in-Boots eyes! How do they do that!?
This got me to thinking . . . even if I don't make it in to the program, can I afford to stay home with my children. They seem to be adamant about wanting to be with me, and how can you say no to that if you can afford it? And do I quit work altogether? Do I ask if I can go part-time? Do I apply to be a substitute teacher for the schools? If so, what do I do with K on those days?
So, I've been praying and praying hard. I don't have the answers. I don't know the right choice to make. So, I pray. And I think hard. And I pray some more. And then I realize my problem . . .
I have no clue how to know if God is talking to me. I hear people all the time saying, "God told me to do (fill in the blank)." How do you know? What is it that makes you realize that He is telling you to do something versus what your guilt/desire is saying? How do you differentiate between what you think is right versus what He says is right? Do you actually hear His voice? Is it just a feeling? Are you supposed to be nauseous when you think you might know the right answer? Are you supposed to be scared shitless? From everything I've ever learned, when God gives you an answer, you're not supposed to be scared because you know that you're going to be taken care of if you follow.
But how do you know?
As you may know, I've applied for leveling classes for a Speech Pathology program. Basically, the leveling classes are courses I have to take that my English degree did not require but a Communication Disorders degree does. These classes have to be taken before I can apply for the graduate program. My application was sent in in December (the due date was April 1). I'm still waiting for a reply of acceptance or rejection. I'm not used to waiting for such an important decision. I want to know now and my patience is running out. lol.
Additionally, every day, it is getting harder to drop the girls off at daycare and head in to work. A few months ago, the girls started looking me in the eye and asking if they could go home with me instead of going daycare. There was no prompting in this, I never mentioned possibly quitting work and going back to school and staying home with them. It was just out of the blue. And both of them! It's like they had a secret pow-wow in their room in their own language and decided to ambush me with Puss-in-Boots eyes! How do they do that!?
This got me to thinking . . . even if I don't make it in to the program, can I afford to stay home with my children. They seem to be adamant about wanting to be with me, and how can you say no to that if you can afford it? And do I quit work altogether? Do I ask if I can go part-time? Do I apply to be a substitute teacher for the schools? If so, what do I do with K on those days?
So, I've been praying and praying hard. I don't have the answers. I don't know the right choice to make. So, I pray. And I think hard. And I pray some more. And then I realize my problem . . .
I have no clue how to know if God is talking to me. I hear people all the time saying, "God told me to do (fill in the blank)." How do you know? What is it that makes you realize that He is telling you to do something versus what your guilt/desire is saying? How do you differentiate between what you think is right versus what He says is right? Do you actually hear His voice? Is it just a feeling? Are you supposed to be nauseous when you think you might know the right answer? Are you supposed to be scared shitless? From everything I've ever learned, when God gives you an answer, you're not supposed to be scared because you know that you're going to be taken care of if you follow.
But how do you know?
Sunday, March 11, 2012
There's no crying in . . . life!
There are times in your life when you have to look deep inside, in the places you keep hidden, to really evaluate yourself, your life, your choices. You have to really acknowledge your feelings, maybe even . . . cry.
I've done a lot of that this week, evaluating, crying. If you know me, you know I'm not a crier. I'm sensitive, I'm emotional, but I'm not a crier. I was taught from an early age that tears don't accomplish anything. Unless you were bleeding or had a bone sticking out of your arm, there really wasn't a reason to cry.
Needless to say, to find myself covered in tears this week . . . well, it was a shock. But they were tears that needed to be shed. They came from deep within. They showed my pain that I didn't even know I was hiding. They showed the emotions I didn't know I had. They showed that I wanted things to work out, to get better, to be good. They were tears of change. They were tears of healing.
There was a lot of soul searching this week - what do I really want out of life? What would help me to get that, to be there? Who can help guide me in the right direction?
It's never easy to acknowledge your faults. It's even harder to realize that maybe, just maybe, people care enough about you to point them out to you, but they love you anyway. And hardest of all, is recognizing that it's okay to let those people in, to let them love you, to let them help you, no matter how independent you think you are.
Of course, none of the answers are easy. None of the changes will be easy. But, for the first time, I was able to really discover these issues, really communicate my desires. Almost all of them were accompanied by tears. And for the first time, I think I understood that . . . that was okay.
I've done a lot of that this week, evaluating, crying. If you know me, you know I'm not a crier. I'm sensitive, I'm emotional, but I'm not a crier. I was taught from an early age that tears don't accomplish anything. Unless you were bleeding or had a bone sticking out of your arm, there really wasn't a reason to cry.
Needless to say, to find myself covered in tears this week . . . well, it was a shock. But they were tears that needed to be shed. They came from deep within. They showed my pain that I didn't even know I was hiding. They showed the emotions I didn't know I had. They showed that I wanted things to work out, to get better, to be good. They were tears of change. They were tears of healing.
There was a lot of soul searching this week - what do I really want out of life? What would help me to get that, to be there? Who can help guide me in the right direction?
It's never easy to acknowledge your faults. It's even harder to realize that maybe, just maybe, people care enough about you to point them out to you, but they love you anyway. And hardest of all, is recognizing that it's okay to let those people in, to let them love you, to let them help you, no matter how independent you think you are.
Of course, none of the answers are easy. None of the changes will be easy. But, for the first time, I was able to really discover these issues, really communicate my desires. Almost all of them were accompanied by tears. And for the first time, I think I understood that . . . that was okay.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Freeze!
Darnit! Another blown opportunity. I'm so unprepared. You'd think that, after 5 years, I'd be prepared. But I'm not. And that was proven, once again, Monday morning.
I was dropping K off at daycare, the same one L goes to after she's done with school for the day. We're putting L's sheets in to her cubby and a thing of wipes fall to the floor. A little girl that L's gone to daycare with for almost 5 years, looked at me and said, "Why does L still wear diapers?"
I stood there, stuffing the sheet into this tiny little box, my brain turning a million miles a minute. Why does she? Because she has sensory issues. Because she can't feel when she has to go. Because it doesn't register that she's eliminating waste. Because she doesn't know how to use the toilet. Because she can't control those muscles yet. Because, because, because. . .
I looked at this little girl, searching for words. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing a 5-year old would understand came to mind. Nothing. I looked at her, looked at the wipes K had picked up and was handing to me, looked back at her. I just stood there, frozen.
Thank goodness her mom was still with her. She looked at her little girl and said, "L's just not ready, honey."
Why didn't *I* think of that!? Why didn't I think of something!? I think I get stuck between people needing to know the "why" of things and just giving a simple, matter of fact answer. "She's just not ready."
Hopefully next time, I'll be ready.
I was dropping K off at daycare, the same one L goes to after she's done with school for the day. We're putting L's sheets in to her cubby and a thing of wipes fall to the floor. A little girl that L's gone to daycare with for almost 5 years, looked at me and said, "Why does L still wear diapers?"
I stood there, stuffing the sheet into this tiny little box, my brain turning a million miles a minute. Why does she? Because she has sensory issues. Because she can't feel when she has to go. Because it doesn't register that she's eliminating waste. Because she doesn't know how to use the toilet. Because she can't control those muscles yet. Because, because, because. . .
I looked at this little girl, searching for words. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing a 5-year old would understand came to mind. Nothing. I looked at her, looked at the wipes K had picked up and was handing to me, looked back at her. I just stood there, frozen.
Thank goodness her mom was still with her. She looked at her little girl and said, "L's just not ready, honey."
Why didn't *I* think of that!? Why didn't I think of something!? I think I get stuck between people needing to know the "why" of things and just giving a simple, matter of fact answer. "She's just not ready."
Hopefully next time, I'll be ready.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Weight, what!?
I got accused yesterday by my husband of not writing on my blog enough. I told him, "I tend to write only when I'm irritated, and I haven't been irritated recently." His reaction? "Don't you think it's a bit ironic that a blog titled 'The Good' tends to talk about the bad?"
You got me there! lol. So, I thought I'd talk about a new venture in my life.
Three of my girlfriends and I have started a new accountability program. All four of us would like to feel better in our bodies. I guess the ultimate goal would be to lose weight, but mostly, we all want to fit in to our clothes, look in the mirror, and think, "Damn! My husband is one lucky-ass hombre!!!"
We're all going to Miami in July for a Fragile X Conference. It should be exciting, fun, and filled withalcohol information. It would be nice if we could all hit the dance floor together while everyone looks on with envy at the four HOT chicks kicking up their heels, wiggling their booties.
Our plan is posting our actual weights weekly, exactly what we eat daily, our exercise routine (when we do it), etc. We're giving each other tips, support, confidence. We don't judge each other. If one of us gains weight instead of losing it, we give that person (always seems to be me!)a slap in the back of the head extra guidance and offer suggestions. It's really awesome!!
It feels so great to have friends that you're comfortable enough with to do this with. It's been a long time since I've felt so loved and un-judged that I feel I can say and do anything, including posting my weight.
So, here's to my awesome girlfriends! May we all meet our goals, continue to support each other, and shake our awesome booties in Miami!!
You got me there! lol. So, I thought I'd talk about a new venture in my life.
Three of my girlfriends and I have started a new accountability program. All four of us would like to feel better in our bodies. I guess the ultimate goal would be to lose weight, but mostly, we all want to fit in to our clothes, look in the mirror, and think, "Damn! My husband is one lucky-ass hombre!!!"
We're all going to Miami in July for a Fragile X Conference. It should be exciting, fun, and filled with
Our plan is posting our actual weights weekly, exactly what we eat daily, our exercise routine (when we do it), etc. We're giving each other tips, support, confidence. We don't judge each other. If one of us gains weight instead of losing it, we give that person (always seems to be me!)
It feels so great to have friends that you're comfortable enough with to do this with. It's been a long time since I've felt so loved and un-judged that I feel I can say and do anything, including posting my weight.
So, here's to my awesome girlfriends! May we all meet our goals, continue to support each other, and shake our awesome booties in Miami!!
Friday, February 24, 2012
MEMO: School Drop Off
TO: Parents who drop children off at school
FROM: Schools in every district of every town
Please be advised - new rules go in to effect immediately and must be followed, or your drop-off privileges will be revoked!
1. All rules of the road will be considered obsolete.
2. When turning right in to the parking lot, do NOT allow the fellow parents attempting to turn left from the opposite direction to turn in. This can allow the traffic to fully back up to the next stop-sign which helps promote awareness of our school's existence.
3. Do not pull up the furthest possible spot before stopping to let your child out. Doing so only allows too many cars in to the drop-off lane and does not leave enough cars on the road waiting to get in.
4. If the car in front of you is taking too long because their child is special needs and can't jump out fast enough, make sure to come as close to rear-ending them as you can to try to get them to hurry. If this doesn't work, zoom around them as quickly as you can. Don't they know your time is IMPORTANT!?
5. Ignore the safety patrol that is waving you in or telling you to stop. They're really only there for the cameras.
6. Whatever you do, do NOT thank the children and/or staff for helping your child out of the car. Your tax dollars pay them enough; you shouldn't have to be NICE to them, too!
7. When leaving the school, make sure to either:
a) turn left from the right-hand lane, as I'm sure the person in the left lane didn't really want to leave, anyway; or
b) sit in between the two lanes, check your messages on your phone, change your radio station, drink a few sips of coffee, and block anyone else from leaving for as long as you can.
8. Do NOT allow students and/or parents who are waiting in a cross-walk to cross in front of you! You shouldn't have to wait on them to walk. Don't they know who you are!? (This one is especially important if it's raining and/or freezing cold.)
Remember - You are important. You are the only person who is running late, going to work, needing to pee. You are the only person that has a child (or children) who have to get in to that school. Make sure everyone knows just how important YOU are! And do NOT let anyone get in your way, no matter what it takes!!!
Thank you for your immediate action on these new rules.
FROM: Schools in every district of every town
Please be advised - new rules go in to effect immediately and must be followed, or your drop-off privileges will be revoked!
1. All rules of the road will be considered obsolete.
2. When turning right in to the parking lot, do NOT allow the fellow parents attempting to turn left from the opposite direction to turn in. This can allow the traffic to fully back up to the next stop-sign which helps promote awareness of our school's existence.
3. Do not pull up the furthest possible spot before stopping to let your child out. Doing so only allows too many cars in to the drop-off lane and does not leave enough cars on the road waiting to get in.
4. If the car in front of you is taking too long because their child is special needs and can't jump out fast enough, make sure to come as close to rear-ending them as you can to try to get them to hurry. If this doesn't work, zoom around them as quickly as you can. Don't they know your time is IMPORTANT!?
5. Ignore the safety patrol that is waving you in or telling you to stop. They're really only there for the cameras.
6. Whatever you do, do NOT thank the children and/or staff for helping your child out of the car. Your tax dollars pay them enough; you shouldn't have to be NICE to them, too!
7. When leaving the school, make sure to either:
a) turn left from the right-hand lane, as I'm sure the person in the left lane didn't really want to leave, anyway; or
b) sit in between the two lanes, check your messages on your phone, change your radio station, drink a few sips of coffee, and block anyone else from leaving for as long as you can.
8. Do NOT allow students and/or parents who are waiting in a cross-walk to cross in front of you! You shouldn't have to wait on them to walk. Don't they know who you are!? (This one is especially important if it's raining and/or freezing cold.)
Remember - You are important. You are the only person who is running late, going to work, needing to pee. You are the only person that has a child (or children) who have to get in to that school. Make sure everyone knows just how important YOU are! And do NOT let anyone get in your way, no matter what it takes!!!
Thank you for your immediate action on these new rules.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Filter's Broken!
Do you ever have those moments in your life that you replay over and over and over again? A conversation, a sentence, or a word that you wish you'd NEVER said? One that should never come out of your mouth. One that no other, normal, person would ever think of saying? I do, almost every day.
You see, I have no filter. I say what I think like a 5-year-old kid. Words come to my mind and out of my mouth without a thought. It's not until after the fact that I realize, "I probably shouldn't have said that."
There's one particular one that I think about almost every day. I regret with every fiber of my being the words I said and there is no way to go back in time and unsay them. And almost every day, I am reminded of those words every time I see a large flag flying in the breeze.
I'm a 32-year old woman who, just a few years ago, asked one of the most important people in my life, "What kind of moron does that" when I was admiring his flag flying on his 25' flag pole. I meant for something "funny" to come out, but those were the exact words.
Yep, I called my dad a moron.
And I TOTALLY didn't mean it that way! But, those words came out faster than my brain could process, completely bypassing that filter you're supposed to have. And now, several years later, I replay them in my mind and just want to crawl back into a corner.
I find myself lacking a filter on a regular basis, when I'm talking to my children, when I'm "picking" on my friends, etc. I'd like to think that I recover fairly well when I explain what I meant, but should I have to explain every other comment that comes out of my mouth? Shouldn't adults be able to stop and think before they speak? I just hope that they realize I never mean it the way it comes out. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt people; I'm not built that way. It pangs me to think I might hurt someone's feelings with my words, especially when the words that come out are rarely what I intended them to be in the first place.
So, the question I must pose to you . . .you can go to almost any store and buy a filter for your a/c, a filter for your car, a filter for your humidifier . . . Anyone know where you buy a filter for you mouth!???
You see, I have no filter. I say what I think like a 5-year-old kid. Words come to my mind and out of my mouth without a thought. It's not until after the fact that I realize, "I probably shouldn't have said that."
There's one particular one that I think about almost every day. I regret with every fiber of my being the words I said and there is no way to go back in time and unsay them. And almost every day, I am reminded of those words every time I see a large flag flying in the breeze.
I'm a 32-year old woman who, just a few years ago, asked one of the most important people in my life, "What kind of moron does that" when I was admiring his flag flying on his 25' flag pole. I meant for something "funny" to come out, but those were the exact words.
Yep, I called my dad a moron.
And I TOTALLY didn't mean it that way! But, those words came out faster than my brain could process, completely bypassing that filter you're supposed to have. And now, several years later, I replay them in my mind and just want to crawl back into a corner.
I find myself lacking a filter on a regular basis, when I'm talking to my children, when I'm "picking" on my friends, etc. I'd like to think that I recover fairly well when I explain what I meant, but should I have to explain every other comment that comes out of my mouth? Shouldn't adults be able to stop and think before they speak? I just hope that they realize I never mean it the way it comes out. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt people; I'm not built that way. It pangs me to think I might hurt someone's feelings with my words, especially when the words that come out are rarely what I intended them to be in the first place.
So, the question I must pose to you . . .you can go to almost any store and buy a filter for your a/c, a filter for your car, a filter for your humidifier . . . Anyone know where you buy a filter for you mouth!???
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