There has been a lot happening these past couple of weeks and I have not found the time to write. I hate not finding the time to write. I love this and it is so much fun for me to put my thoughts to keyboard. I cannot even say what has kept me away, I just know that I am always doing something, else.
I started walking a couple of weeks ago. I have logged over 45 miles so far. I love that I have started walking. I usually spend an hour a day, depending on the rain, hitting the pavement. I listen to my Pandora station and just walk. I sort things out in my mind. I make big plans. I miss Barron.
I started packing for the London trip. I have my giant suitcase open on the table. I put clothes in and take clothes out because I want to wear them. I want to be sure that I have cute outfits. I want to be sure that I have comfortable outfits. I want to be sure that I do not look like the typical tourist in jeans and bright white tennis shoes! London should be a little cooler than it is here. It will also be a little rainier. I have to remember those things. I also have to remember that I don't want to overpack so there is room for souvenirs. I plan to bring back plenty of souvenirs!
I have joined a new church group. The church group meets on Monday nights, but does require so at home reading, thought and prayer. I spent much of last Sunday reading and thinking. This week there hasn't been any reading, but a lot of thought and prayer. I am not sure if this group is a good place for me, and I have been looking for an answer, praying for an answer. I haven't gotten one yet, unless I have and haven't been able to tell. So I have made the commitment to see this through.
I have been painting the room in the basement. Danny has been working on getting all the construction elements wrapped up and I have been painting when I can. He has been busy with school so getting to the construction has been hard. We made this little project a lot more complicated than we needed to, and are now paying the price for that. But we have to have this little space complete before we head to London because Ashlyn is going to sleep there when she gets back.
So there are many of the things that have kept me from blogging. But there is one more thing, a thing that has not been around much in recent times. A funk. Part of it is the Barron Blues. I cannot get past this overwhelming sadness and loneliness for that dog. He seems to creep into every thought. I hope Harlow doesn't know because it would break her heart. If only she wanted to go on walks...
This funk though, is more than missing Barron. That is what bothers me. I have a pretty grand thing going here. My children are all well adjusted young people with good friends and good goals. My pets are healthy. My husband loves and cares for me. I am about to take a great trip. Money isn't as tight as it once was and the financial future continues to look bright. Not 150 watt bright, but brighter than a 40 watt, if that makes any sense!
So I don't know where this funk is coming from. But it weighs me down. It brings out my snarkiness. There have been four times in the past few weeks that I almost went full on Snarky. Had I, I would have lost a couple of friends, ruffled some family feathers and made my work environment pretty uncomfortable. The work thing was easy to let go, but the other three are still sort of brewing under the surface. I can't ever say anything about them because that wouldn't be cool...
I think it is probably not a coincidence that I am not funked when I am blogging. So I should make blogging a part of my day. I obviously missed it.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
The True Value Guys
Today my dad sent me the obituary of Wayne Page. I have known Wayne since I started my job at True Value in 1986. Wayne was a part time employee there, having retired from his real job. I had no idea how old Wayne was, to a sixteen year old, he was old. Turns out, he was only 68.
Wayne, along with the other two part time guys, Jerry and Jerry, provided me with a wealth of knowledge. They were all these amazing men and I am truly blessed to have worked with and known them. Jerry, the former gas station owner, would take me to the plumbing aisle to show me how a toilet worked. I have replaced three toilets in my adult life, all thanks to Jerry. The other Jerry was a retired Air Force man. When I was getting ready to get married, he was wonderfully generous with advice about the ins and outs of base life. He made the unknown, okay. Jerry and Jerry both drove El Caminos and smoked non stop. When I worked at True Value, it was still legal to smoke inside a store while helping customers. They both slicked their hair back a bit. Both rolled their sleeves.
Wayne and his wife, Manon, came to Danny and my wedding. They were exactly what we wanted to be in our retired years. Wayne still took his wife out on dates. He took her out for ice cream. He treated her like a queen. He would give me wonderful advice about weathering through the tight years. Both he and Manon were so incredibly supportive. I admired their love and devotion to each other.
I had seen Wayne a couple of times when I moved back to Cedar Rapids. He was still working at True Value. I took Ashlyn and Hayley up to the Mt. Vernon Road True Value a couple of times. Wayne got to meet them.
I don't know what happened to Jerry and Jerry. Both had heart problems when I knew them. I doubt either is still alive. All three of these men, plus the men that I worked with at Ace many years later, were Godsends. They knew that I needed to know how to do things for myself. When it was time to stock a tool box before I moved to California, they helped me out. At eighteen, I could repair a toilet, wire a lamp, cut glass and mix paint. When I worked at Ace, cutting pipe and keys were added to that list. The guys there also showed me how to rescreen and reglaze windows. Between them and my dad, I got to be a pretty handy girl to have around.
So today I will remember this incredible man and with him, all the other True Value and Ace guys that I knew and loved. Such gifts to me. They never thought me incapable or too much of a girl to get my hands greasy. They never thought I wasn't smart enough to tell a grown man that he needed a 5/8 to 3/4 coupler. They had my back when customers were assholes. I remember on more than one occasion one of those guys sayin something like "well, if Annie told you this was the part you needed, then this is the part you need." They all called me Annie.
It's too bad that Heaven is not a fixer upper as there are some top notch hardware guys up there ready to work. Godspeed.
Wayne, along with the other two part time guys, Jerry and Jerry, provided me with a wealth of knowledge. They were all these amazing men and I am truly blessed to have worked with and known them. Jerry, the former gas station owner, would take me to the plumbing aisle to show me how a toilet worked. I have replaced three toilets in my adult life, all thanks to Jerry. The other Jerry was a retired Air Force man. When I was getting ready to get married, he was wonderfully generous with advice about the ins and outs of base life. He made the unknown, okay. Jerry and Jerry both drove El Caminos and smoked non stop. When I worked at True Value, it was still legal to smoke inside a store while helping customers. They both slicked their hair back a bit. Both rolled their sleeves.
Wayne and his wife, Manon, came to Danny and my wedding. They were exactly what we wanted to be in our retired years. Wayne still took his wife out on dates. He took her out for ice cream. He treated her like a queen. He would give me wonderful advice about weathering through the tight years. Both he and Manon were so incredibly supportive. I admired their love and devotion to each other.
I had seen Wayne a couple of times when I moved back to Cedar Rapids. He was still working at True Value. I took Ashlyn and Hayley up to the Mt. Vernon Road True Value a couple of times. Wayne got to meet them.
I don't know what happened to Jerry and Jerry. Both had heart problems when I knew them. I doubt either is still alive. All three of these men, plus the men that I worked with at Ace many years later, were Godsends. They knew that I needed to know how to do things for myself. When it was time to stock a tool box before I moved to California, they helped me out. At eighteen, I could repair a toilet, wire a lamp, cut glass and mix paint. When I worked at Ace, cutting pipe and keys were added to that list. The guys there also showed me how to rescreen and reglaze windows. Between them and my dad, I got to be a pretty handy girl to have around.
So today I will remember this incredible man and with him, all the other True Value and Ace guys that I knew and loved. Such gifts to me. They never thought me incapable or too much of a girl to get my hands greasy. They never thought I wasn't smart enough to tell a grown man that he needed a 5/8 to 3/4 coupler. They had my back when customers were assholes. I remember on more than one occasion one of those guys sayin something like "well, if Annie told you this was the part you needed, then this is the part you need." They all called me Annie.
It's too bad that Heaven is not a fixer upper as there are some top notch hardware guys up there ready to work. Godspeed.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Ride Along
Last night, of all nights, I rode along with Danny. I was expecting a lot of drunks and a lot of fights. I was expecting it to be very busy. I was expecting to walk away from the night with a greater appreciation of Danny and the department as a whole.
Listening to the radio, it appeared that most of the drunks and fights were Central. Danny is South. The car chase, the stabbing, the major injury were Central and West. Our calls were more mundane. It actually wasn't very busy for Southside at all. I am glad I rode along. It is fun to meet the people that may have Danny's back someday. It is interesting to see Des Moines in a way I will never see it. It gives me a much greater appreciation for what my husband does and why he is the why he is about some issues.
Danny is a good officer. Really good. I watched the other officers watch how he handled a situation. It felt like they were soaking in his vast knowledge, storing it away for the next time. He has far more patience than I would have expected. He makes it completely clear that he is in charge. Like a dog, his body language is key to what he is going to do next. That part was fascinating.
During one call, Danny needed to speak to a little guy, aged seven. He was obviously pretty shaken up that the police were at his house. His mom wasn't doing so great and that's why the police were there. At that time, Danny had a tough job. He needed to make sure that the mom was going to be okay, but more importantly, that this boy was and was going to continue to be okay. When Danny started to talk to this little guy, he turned down his radio. I thought that was so interesting and was probably completely unrealized by Danny. But to me, it said to the boy "what you have to say is important and I want to listen to you." Turning down the radio also makes Danny a little less of a presence. Now he is just a bigger man in a dark suit but there isn't any crackly noise coming from him. Then Danny's shoulders drop just a little. And his chest deflates ever so slightly, but it is enough to make himself seem less intimidating. Finally, the voice is his real voice. The voice that talks to me, his own kids, the dog. It is calm and interested. I was so proud of him in that moment for treating this boy like a person that mattered. That's not to say that this mom didn't treat her boy like that, I think she did. I think she did the very best she could do. But there are so many moms that don't treat their kids like they matter. It is so important that these kids view the police as someone that is on their side.
In this house, Danny had to assess the situation immediately. He had to scan the place and store that in his brain. He scanned the table and removed the sharp objects. He had to have a conversation with someone that did not like that he was there, did not fully understand why he was there and just wanted him to leave. But there was a little boy in the bedroom and Danny had to do what was best for him at that moment. I didn't envy him at all to have to make that call. In the end, the little guy stayed with his grandparents. And I found myself praying for the whole situation as we drove away.
There was a domestic call later. The one thing I know about domestics is they can go any which way. Since there may or may not have been a knife involved, I decided to stay in the car. When we got to the place, the guy was already outside and was wisely cooperating. But not knowing if there was a knife, Danny took no chances and had the taser on him. The red light of a taser is a magic wonder. This guy was down on the ground as fast as his drunken little legs could carry him. He was cuffed without incident. But what if there had been incident? I would have seen it all from where I was and that thought got planted and continued to grow as the night wore on.
Later, there was a man that did not want to get into the back of the squad car. I completely understand why he did not want to get in the back of the squad car. I would not want to get in the back of a squad car either if there had just been a stabbing, I fit the description, I had blood all over me, I was caught after I tried to run. But the police felt otherwise. It is really interesting how they create this barrier of blue. He could clearly see that he had few options, but was still not going to get in the car. I cannot tell you how it happened as it happened in the blink of an eye but Danny, after much patient discussion about this man getting in the car, had reached that point where there are no more warnings or discussions and this man was in the car.
If I had to guess, my guess would be that Danny somehow grew an additional arm that was able to reach down and snap this guy behind the knees to make them buckle while pulling his head forward and pushing his midsection in. It was not violent at all. It wasn't manhandling or brut force. In fact, had there been leotards involved, it could have been quite graceful.
aahs from some of the other officers (and I thought Danny was pretty dreamy at that moment!) but Danny just appeared to be ready to move on the the next shit head of the night.
The kids have been on ride alongs and they think it is awesome to see this side of Danny. They have always known that there is a man inside their Daddy that is a highly trained bad assed mutha fucka. I know this, too. I am thrilled that he is fully capable to kick some piece of shit's ass. I am also thrilled that he knows multiple ways to handle a situation before he has to kick ass. But that does not mean I want to or need to see it.
What would I have done if any one of those situations last night would have gone wrong? Nothing. I would have stayed in the car and waited. Would Danny have done something different in a violent situation because I was there? I don't know, but I learned a long time ago that when Danny was going to be in harms way, I needed to be out of the way in his mind. I believe that Danny would be fully capable of taking care of the situation and me because I believe that he is a pretty extraordinary police officer. I understand that he has been in situations in other lines of work that have put him in far greater danger than he would probably ever be on the streets of Des Moines. I also understand that Danny takes every situation seriously and never blows off what appears to be mundane.
I cannot express how proud I am of Danny and the job he does every night. I understand how he has become jaded, it wouldn't take long. A person can only hear all the crap that people spew at the law for so long before it is just easier to expect a shit head and be surprised when it is not. I do not envy the decisions he has to make regarding these people's lives.
I don't know if I will ride along again or not. I know that Danny really likes to show me all the stuff he does. I love meeting all the people he works with. I love that pit in the stomach feeling when he starts to accelerate. Oddly, I feel very safe in the squad car even at higher rates of speed. I hate seeing the horrible ways that people choose to live. I hate that there are so many people that have no idea how hard these officers work to keep the peace. I hate the idea that there are people out there that wouldn't think twice about taking a shot at a cop which means they wouldn't even think before they took a shot at the rest of us. But I love this man that keeps the peace. So...
Listening to the radio, it appeared that most of the drunks and fights were Central. Danny is South. The car chase, the stabbing, the major injury were Central and West. Our calls were more mundane. It actually wasn't very busy for Southside at all. I am glad I rode along. It is fun to meet the people that may have Danny's back someday. It is interesting to see Des Moines in a way I will never see it. It gives me a much greater appreciation for what my husband does and why he is the why he is about some issues.
Danny is a good officer. Really good. I watched the other officers watch how he handled a situation. It felt like they were soaking in his vast knowledge, storing it away for the next time. He has far more patience than I would have expected. He makes it completely clear that he is in charge. Like a dog, his body language is key to what he is going to do next. That part was fascinating.
During one call, Danny needed to speak to a little guy, aged seven. He was obviously pretty shaken up that the police were at his house. His mom wasn't doing so great and that's why the police were there. At that time, Danny had a tough job. He needed to make sure that the mom was going to be okay, but more importantly, that this boy was and was going to continue to be okay. When Danny started to talk to this little guy, he turned down his radio. I thought that was so interesting and was probably completely unrealized by Danny. But to me, it said to the boy "what you have to say is important and I want to listen to you." Turning down the radio also makes Danny a little less of a presence. Now he is just a bigger man in a dark suit but there isn't any crackly noise coming from him. Then Danny's shoulders drop just a little. And his chest deflates ever so slightly, but it is enough to make himself seem less intimidating. Finally, the voice is his real voice. The voice that talks to me, his own kids, the dog. It is calm and interested. I was so proud of him in that moment for treating this boy like a person that mattered. That's not to say that this mom didn't treat her boy like that, I think she did. I think she did the very best she could do. But there are so many moms that don't treat their kids like they matter. It is so important that these kids view the police as someone that is on their side.
In this house, Danny had to assess the situation immediately. He had to scan the place and store that in his brain. He scanned the table and removed the sharp objects. He had to have a conversation with someone that did not like that he was there, did not fully understand why he was there and just wanted him to leave. But there was a little boy in the bedroom and Danny had to do what was best for him at that moment. I didn't envy him at all to have to make that call. In the end, the little guy stayed with his grandparents. And I found myself praying for the whole situation as we drove away.
There was a domestic call later. The one thing I know about domestics is they can go any which way. Since there may or may not have been a knife involved, I decided to stay in the car. When we got to the place, the guy was already outside and was wisely cooperating. But not knowing if there was a knife, Danny took no chances and had the taser on him. The red light of a taser is a magic wonder. This guy was down on the ground as fast as his drunken little legs could carry him. He was cuffed without incident. But what if there had been incident? I would have seen it all from where I was and that thought got planted and continued to grow as the night wore on.
Later, there was a man that did not want to get into the back of the squad car. I completely understand why he did not want to get in the back of the squad car. I would not want to get in the back of a squad car either if there had just been a stabbing, I fit the description, I had blood all over me, I was caught after I tried to run. But the police felt otherwise. It is really interesting how they create this barrier of blue. He could clearly see that he had few options, but was still not going to get in the car. I cannot tell you how it happened as it happened in the blink of an eye but Danny, after much patient discussion about this man getting in the car, had reached that point where there are no more warnings or discussions and this man was in the car.
If I had to guess, my guess would be that Danny somehow grew an additional arm that was able to reach down and snap this guy behind the knees to make them buckle while pulling his head forward and pushing his midsection in. It was not violent at all. It wasn't manhandling or brut force. In fact, had there been leotards involved, it could have been quite graceful.
aahs from some of the other officers (and I thought Danny was pretty dreamy at that moment!) but Danny just appeared to be ready to move on the the next shit head of the night.
The kids have been on ride alongs and they think it is awesome to see this side of Danny. They have always known that there is a man inside their Daddy that is a highly trained bad assed mutha fucka. I know this, too. I am thrilled that he is fully capable to kick some piece of shit's ass. I am also thrilled that he knows multiple ways to handle a situation before he has to kick ass. But that does not mean I want to or need to see it.
What would I have done if any one of those situations last night would have gone wrong? Nothing. I would have stayed in the car and waited. Would Danny have done something different in a violent situation because I was there? I don't know, but I learned a long time ago that when Danny was going to be in harms way, I needed to be out of the way in his mind. I believe that Danny would be fully capable of taking care of the situation and me because I believe that he is a pretty extraordinary police officer. I understand that he has been in situations in other lines of work that have put him in far greater danger than he would probably ever be on the streets of Des Moines. I also understand that Danny takes every situation seriously and never blows off what appears to be mundane.
I cannot express how proud I am of Danny and the job he does every night. I understand how he has become jaded, it wouldn't take long. A person can only hear all the crap that people spew at the law for so long before it is just easier to expect a shit head and be surprised when it is not. I do not envy the decisions he has to make regarding these people's lives.
I don't know if I will ride along again or not. I know that Danny really likes to show me all the stuff he does. I love meeting all the people he works with. I love that pit in the stomach feeling when he starts to accelerate. Oddly, I feel very safe in the squad car even at higher rates of speed. I hate seeing the horrible ways that people choose to live. I hate that there are so many people that have no idea how hard these officers work to keep the peace. I hate the idea that there are people out there that wouldn't think twice about taking a shot at a cop which means they wouldn't even think before they took a shot at the rest of us. But I love this man that keeps the peace. So...
Saturday, March 17, 2012
I Want You Back
Dear Barron,
It has been almost a year since you died. I think of you every day. In some way, you come to my mind. Yesterday while out on a walk I saw a yellow lab that looked much like you. He wasn't as light as you were. But he had that same wide head that you had and he had that same light in his eyes. But his light was not shining for me. I miss you terribly.
Harlow is good. She really is, but you never thought that she would have to take care of me, so you didn't show her how. She doesn't know when I am crying. She doesn't know to get up, seek me out and put her heavy, heavy head in my lap. She never needed to do that because your head was always there.
Sometimes, when I miss you more than usual, I pretend that I can feel your weight against me. Harlow does lean into me, lay against me, press her obtrusive nose into me. It isn't the same though. Just isn't.
It has been beautiful out and I have been on some walks lately. I see people out with their dogs, happily on a leash and I miss you. I have completely given up on Harlow. She doesn't want any part of the walk and it is no fun for either of us to get stressed out. She just thumps her tail on the patio when she sees me come home.
Remember when we would go for walks and you would get five or six feet in front of me, then circle back around. I loved how you always made sure I was near by. Are you still near by? Is doggy heaven like people heaven? Do you ever stop chasing the endless supply of tennis balls to look for me? Do you ever come trotting up to the window of the world and seek me out? And does your tail still wag for me?
Harlow is getting old. She takes just a little longer to get up. The steps get tricky sometimes. There are moments when I worry that she is unsure of where she is. Sometimes her expression tells me that she is not sure who we are. I have promised her that I will keep her happy and dignified for as long as I am able. I will try to show her the patience that she deserves as she gets older.
You know, the next dogs we are getting are going to be little. I want no part in that. I have heard all of the reasons for little dogs, but it doesn't matter. I want that weight on my lap when my heart is hurting. No one can do that like you, but it will take a big dog to come close.
I could go on and on with you, about you. Such a good boy.
Harlow and I will do some yard work today. You loved yard work day. She will drag that tree limb to where ever I need to rake. She will plop down, completely unaware of the work that needs to be done. She will let the wind flap her ears and she will roll her newly washed coat in the leaves. And between her overwhelming joy and my little bit of sorrow, we will consider it a good day.
It has been almost a year since you died. I think of you every day. In some way, you come to my mind. Yesterday while out on a walk I saw a yellow lab that looked much like you. He wasn't as light as you were. But he had that same wide head that you had and he had that same light in his eyes. But his light was not shining for me. I miss you terribly.
Harlow is good. She really is, but you never thought that she would have to take care of me, so you didn't show her how. She doesn't know when I am crying. She doesn't know to get up, seek me out and put her heavy, heavy head in my lap. She never needed to do that because your head was always there.
Sometimes, when I miss you more than usual, I pretend that I can feel your weight against me. Harlow does lean into me, lay against me, press her obtrusive nose into me. It isn't the same though. Just isn't.
It has been beautiful out and I have been on some walks lately. I see people out with their dogs, happily on a leash and I miss you. I have completely given up on Harlow. She doesn't want any part of the walk and it is no fun for either of us to get stressed out. She just thumps her tail on the patio when she sees me come home.
Remember when we would go for walks and you would get five or six feet in front of me, then circle back around. I loved how you always made sure I was near by. Are you still near by? Is doggy heaven like people heaven? Do you ever stop chasing the endless supply of tennis balls to look for me? Do you ever come trotting up to the window of the world and seek me out? And does your tail still wag for me?
Harlow is getting old. She takes just a little longer to get up. The steps get tricky sometimes. There are moments when I worry that she is unsure of where she is. Sometimes her expression tells me that she is not sure who we are. I have promised her that I will keep her happy and dignified for as long as I am able. I will try to show her the patience that she deserves as she gets older.
You know, the next dogs we are getting are going to be little. I want no part in that. I have heard all of the reasons for little dogs, but it doesn't matter. I want that weight on my lap when my heart is hurting. No one can do that like you, but it will take a big dog to come close.
I could go on and on with you, about you. Such a good boy.
Harlow and I will do some yard work today. You loved yard work day. She will drag that tree limb to where ever I need to rake. She will plop down, completely unaware of the work that needs to be done. She will let the wind flap her ears and she will roll her newly washed coat in the leaves. And between her overwhelming joy and my little bit of sorrow, we will consider it a good day.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
If you don't have something nice to say...
Then shut up.
I know that's not the way it goes, but that is exactly how my mom put it to me one night when I wouldn't stop bitching. These words come back to me often when I
1. want to bitch about someone
2. want to talk about someone
3. when I am in a setting where 1 and 2 are happening non stop.
It is easy to complain. It is easy to rant on and on about the failings of another. It is so easy to join in when someone else is doing the complaining and ranting.
It is exceptionally hard for me to hold my tongue, to say only nice things, to defend the attacked. But I am getting better at it. I have made it my mission to take my mom's words to heart and shut up. Or, not shut up but shift my point of view from complainer to doer. Or from bitcher to praiser.
I have also made it a point to not be a party to the bitch sessions if that is all they are going to be. If there is a purpose to the bitch session and in the end, someone has come up with a solution or at least a step in the right direction, then I will offer my input. When a bitch session becomes a whine and moan session, I am out.
These are all major changes for me. And they feel good. It is empowering to be part of the solution.
But before I go any further, let me tell you this-
If you want me to listen without interjection of advice, I will. If you want my opinion, I will give it to you. If you just need a friend, I am so there for you. Because I know that there are days that suck and pity parties are good for the soul on occasion. I know that letting it all out over a can of Coors or a slice of pie is a healing act.
So please don't think that I am not of a sympathetic mind, I am. But I am also fancying myself a can do kind of girl as well. What I am not, any longer, is a whining, bitching, conniving, complaining pain in the ass. I guess that means I don't have to shut up!
I know that's not the way it goes, but that is exactly how my mom put it to me one night when I wouldn't stop bitching. These words come back to me often when I
1. want to bitch about someone
2. want to talk about someone
3. when I am in a setting where 1 and 2 are happening non stop.
It is easy to complain. It is easy to rant on and on about the failings of another. It is so easy to join in when someone else is doing the complaining and ranting.
It is exceptionally hard for me to hold my tongue, to say only nice things, to defend the attacked. But I am getting better at it. I have made it my mission to take my mom's words to heart and shut up. Or, not shut up but shift my point of view from complainer to doer. Or from bitcher to praiser.
I have also made it a point to not be a party to the bitch sessions if that is all they are going to be. If there is a purpose to the bitch session and in the end, someone has come up with a solution or at least a step in the right direction, then I will offer my input. When a bitch session becomes a whine and moan session, I am out.
These are all major changes for me. And they feel good. It is empowering to be part of the solution.
But before I go any further, let me tell you this-
If you want me to listen without interjection of advice, I will. If you want my opinion, I will give it to you. If you just need a friend, I am so there for you. Because I know that there are days that suck and pity parties are good for the soul on occasion. I know that letting it all out over a can of Coors or a slice of pie is a healing act.
So please don't think that I am not of a sympathetic mind, I am. But I am also fancying myself a can do kind of girl as well. What I am not, any longer, is a whining, bitching, conniving, complaining pain in the ass. I guess that means I don't have to shut up!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Way Outside my Comfort Zone
So two weekends ago, I spent thirty hours at St. Francis on a retreat. Christ Renews His Parish, to be exact. For any of my Catholic friends that have done this, you know what I am talking about, for those that haven't done it, I can't really say much about it.
My relationship with the Lord has been a challenge through the years. We are good now, but I feel like our relationship could always be better. And this is one of my attempts at improving this relationship.
Now if you do not believe in God or believe in a god, but really don't have faith in him, then this blog really isn't for you. But continue reading if you are interested in my comfort zone.
I don't really get along with people. I don't know what my deal is, well, I actually know what my deal is but I don't know if I should go into it here. Anyway, I have a really hard time with women. Especially groups of women. I always feel inferior to them. I immediately find myself crossing my arms. I start to pick apart outfits, body language, anything to make me feel better about myself.
Finding myself in a room full of women with no escape was a huge challenge for me. I had to push myself to stop being critical. I know that there was nothing but my own insecurities that promote this behavior. My heart knows it, my mind...not so much.
So at this retreat, I got to know a few people. I ate with people that I did not know. I joined in conversations. None of it was easy. I left the retreat with a true sense of well being, but did not get everything I wanted out of the weekend.
So after the weekend is another opportunity to stay active with this same group of women. I went to the meeting last night hoping for that feeling of this is where I belong. I did not get the feeling. I was firmly on the fence with whether I wanted to continue. I want big, bold signs from the Lord. Neon flashing signs. The Lord did not provide such a sign. I asked some of the women that I had met to say a prayer for me. I said some prayers for myself.
It is hard to feel unworthy. Self esteem is a fragile thing. Danny does a remarkable job of reminding me all the time that I am more than I think I am. My children do as well. Barron never failed to make me believe that I was all that sparkled in his eyes. My job, the job I was really good at, is gone. I struggle daily with feelings of inadequacy.
I feel like this group of women could be a very safe place for me. I left last night feeling like there were some of the women there that really wanted me to be a part of it with them. But still, this is way outside of my comfort zone. My comfort zone is close to home, where people love me because of and in spite of who I am.
Can I let my guard down? Can I really just be the person that Barron loved so dearly. Can I show them the sincere, semi sweet girl that Danny loves so much? Well, I have to believe that God would not have led me here, that my mom would not be encouraging me to be involved, that I would not find a safe place within St. Francis' walls.
So Monday night, week after next, I am going. Those twenty five or so women are going to get to know me and hopefully, love me. I am going to put away my petty thoughts and know that these are good women that have come with an open heart and a positive attitude. I will have to leave my comfort zone for an unknown zone. But the Lord has worked too long and too hard on me to let me give up on this, on myself worth, on my goals to improve myself.
My relationship with the Lord has been a challenge through the years. We are good now, but I feel like our relationship could always be better. And this is one of my attempts at improving this relationship.
Now if you do not believe in God or believe in a god, but really don't have faith in him, then this blog really isn't for you. But continue reading if you are interested in my comfort zone.
I don't really get along with people. I don't know what my deal is, well, I actually know what my deal is but I don't know if I should go into it here. Anyway, I have a really hard time with women. Especially groups of women. I always feel inferior to them. I immediately find myself crossing my arms. I start to pick apart outfits, body language, anything to make me feel better about myself.
Finding myself in a room full of women with no escape was a huge challenge for me. I had to push myself to stop being critical. I know that there was nothing but my own insecurities that promote this behavior. My heart knows it, my mind...not so much.
So at this retreat, I got to know a few people. I ate with people that I did not know. I joined in conversations. None of it was easy. I left the retreat with a true sense of well being, but did not get everything I wanted out of the weekend.
So after the weekend is another opportunity to stay active with this same group of women. I went to the meeting last night hoping for that feeling of this is where I belong. I did not get the feeling. I was firmly on the fence with whether I wanted to continue. I want big, bold signs from the Lord. Neon flashing signs. The Lord did not provide such a sign. I asked some of the women that I had met to say a prayer for me. I said some prayers for myself.
It is hard to feel unworthy. Self esteem is a fragile thing. Danny does a remarkable job of reminding me all the time that I am more than I think I am. My children do as well. Barron never failed to make me believe that I was all that sparkled in his eyes. My job, the job I was really good at, is gone. I struggle daily with feelings of inadequacy.
I feel like this group of women could be a very safe place for me. I left last night feeling like there were some of the women there that really wanted me to be a part of it with them. But still, this is way outside of my comfort zone. My comfort zone is close to home, where people love me because of and in spite of who I am.
Can I let my guard down? Can I really just be the person that Barron loved so dearly. Can I show them the sincere, semi sweet girl that Danny loves so much? Well, I have to believe that God would not have led me here, that my mom would not be encouraging me to be involved, that I would not find a safe place within St. Francis' walls.
So Monday night, week after next, I am going. Those twenty five or so women are going to get to know me and hopefully, love me. I am going to put away my petty thoughts and know that these are good women that have come with an open heart and a positive attitude. I will have to leave my comfort zone for an unknown zone. But the Lord has worked too long and too hard on me to let me give up on this, on myself worth, on my goals to improve myself.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
This might embarrass him
I love my kid. He makes me laugh all the time. Just now, he walked into the kitchen with phone in hand. He says "Mom, poop." And then "Hey" and then kisses me on the head. That is all. Now he is off to bed.
I love my kid. He is full of nonsense. He is full of fun. He is smart. He is wise. He is growing up.
Jacob never really went through an awful phase. He tried to mouth off once or twice but ended up on the wrong end of Danny's two finger point. He has been snarky and surly but again, ended up on the wrong end of Danny"s two finger point. He has now become, or actually gone back to, this wonderful kid.
And I use the term 'kid' in the very best way. I see the man that Jacob is becoming, but Jacob doesn't seem to be in any real hurry to grow up. He has his job, he budgets his money, he makes a frozen pizza. I think that is enough for right now. Jacob will have plenty of time to be all growed up! I like him like he is right now, right now.
I love my kid. I love that he just amazed himself by throwing a half eaten Girl Scout cookie up in the air and catching it in his mouth. I love that he is now talking about how amazing he is.
We were going to stop at two. Made that decision a little too late since Jacob had already begun. Danny and I never really had the chance to settle into the idea of just two before I knew I was pregnant. I cannot imagine the void there would be in every day without this boy.
No one makes me laugh like Jacob does. No one drives me to the brink of frustration like Jacob does. For example, he needed to be in bed forty minutes ago. In that forty minutes, he chatted with me about work, bugged Hayley, ate some cookies, watched a video online about the Invisible Children, a charity that he is involved in, ate some more cookies, went to his room, came back up stairs, went on a hunt for his head phones, went to my room, and as I type is still up there.
Jacob's Grandpa Mark describes Jacob best when he just shakes his head and laughs. Most of the time there are no words.
Oh, remember when I said he was supposed to be in bed forty seven minutes ago...now he is trying to balance a broom and an egg. He just went back upstairs to inform Danny that, "Dad, the cosmos sucks around our house."
It is now fifty two minutes past his bed time. I have no idea where he is or what he is doing. He could be laying on the top step with Harlow. Or maybe turning over everything in Hayley's room. There might be a serious conversation going on between Jacob and his dad or they may be watching Family Guy. This might be the night he decides to try a new face washing routine, or he may have moved in on Hayley's skype session with her boyfriend. It really is hard to tell, fifty five minutes past...
I love my kid.
I love my kid. He is full of nonsense. He is full of fun. He is smart. He is wise. He is growing up.
Jacob never really went through an awful phase. He tried to mouth off once or twice but ended up on the wrong end of Danny's two finger point. He has been snarky and surly but again, ended up on the wrong end of Danny"s two finger point. He has now become, or actually gone back to, this wonderful kid.
And I use the term 'kid' in the very best way. I see the man that Jacob is becoming, but Jacob doesn't seem to be in any real hurry to grow up. He has his job, he budgets his money, he makes a frozen pizza. I think that is enough for right now. Jacob will have plenty of time to be all growed up! I like him like he is right now, right now.
I love my kid. I love that he just amazed himself by throwing a half eaten Girl Scout cookie up in the air and catching it in his mouth. I love that he is now talking about how amazing he is.
We were going to stop at two. Made that decision a little too late since Jacob had already begun. Danny and I never really had the chance to settle into the idea of just two before I knew I was pregnant. I cannot imagine the void there would be in every day without this boy.
No one makes me laugh like Jacob does. No one drives me to the brink of frustration like Jacob does. For example, he needed to be in bed forty minutes ago. In that forty minutes, he chatted with me about work, bugged Hayley, ate some cookies, watched a video online about the Invisible Children, a charity that he is involved in, ate some more cookies, went to his room, came back up stairs, went on a hunt for his head phones, went to my room, and as I type is still up there.
Jacob's Grandpa Mark describes Jacob best when he just shakes his head and laughs. Most of the time there are no words.
Oh, remember when I said he was supposed to be in bed forty seven minutes ago...now he is trying to balance a broom and an egg. He just went back upstairs to inform Danny that, "Dad, the cosmos sucks around our house."
It is now fifty two minutes past his bed time. I have no idea where he is or what he is doing. He could be laying on the top step with Harlow. Or maybe turning over everything in Hayley's room. There might be a serious conversation going on between Jacob and his dad or they may be watching Family Guy. This might be the night he decides to try a new face washing routine, or he may have moved in on Hayley's skype session with her boyfriend. It really is hard to tell, fifty five minutes past...
I love my kid.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Dresses
When she was little, Hayley loved to be in dresses. Her favorites were princess dresses which were actually princess nightgowns, but when paired with red sparkly shoes, who knew!!! The other type of dress favored by Hayley was the spinney dress. You know, the dress twirls out when Hayley would circle around.
I remember when Mom and Dad came to visit us in Germany they brought the girls both dresses. Buying for Ashlyn at that age was pretty easy, if the Spice Girls would wear it, so would Ashlyn as long as it was toned down slightly. But Hayley was tricky. If she didn't like something, she made no bones about it. There is ample evidence of this. We all remember the "it's a shirt" incident when she got an awesome Pocahontas dress from her Aunt Crissy. Hayley, not being a very good birthday present opener, lifted the dress from the box and kind of tossed it to the side with little love. Once she realized (after we showed her and shamed her) that it was indeed a Princess dress, she was happy.
So my poor mom really stressed about the dress she was bringing Hayley. There was no way to test the spinnability of this dress without trying it on. There were no little girls for Mom to test it out on. Molly, Hayley's cousin, was a year younger so that wasn't going to work. Mom just went with a hope and a prayer!
I have a photo of Hayley, Ashlyn and my mom at our home in Germany. Hayley looks like a little angel. She was not a little angel but with her soft blond hair and sweet plump cheeks, she fooled everyone. The dress that Mom had picked out for her was the palest of pink on top and white on the bottom. There was a little ribbon belt punctuated with ribbon roses. It was soft and sweet and oh, so Hayley.
Years later, Hayley would wear nothing but soccer clothes. Sweat pants and t-shirts. Dresses were a foreign idea to her. She was so far away from the soft sweet pinks of her little girl years. Her personality hadn't changed a lot. Hayley was still fun and outspoken and independently minded. She had just completely restyled her wardrobe.
I am not really sure when Hayley began to enjoy dresses again. I am sure that entering high school and attending the school dances helped. There was a white dress with black polka dots for freshman year homecoming. The following year there was a pink one. I don't know that these two dresses really reflected Hayley, I don't know if Hayley was that comfortable in her teenage skin. Junior year, the dresses began to reflect Hayley a bit more. There was a bounce to them and a fun.
The best dress, by far, (after the Snow White dress and pink spinning dress and the old flower girl dress) was senior year prom dress. It did not have much going on in the spin factor but it was beautiful. The perfect blue to bring out Hayley's eyes. Her hair was no longer the soft blond of a four year old, but was now like the creation of a world class colorist though Hayley's many shades of blond were all natural. She was just stunning.
The next big dress will be the wedding dress. I imagine that Hayley will take a little bit of all of her past styles and combine them into her big day dress. I think she will require an element of princess. The dress will have some spin factor. It will have to be comfortable enough for a pick up game of soccer or badminton. Or at least comfortable enough for karaoke.
I remember when Mom and Dad came to visit us in Germany they brought the girls both dresses. Buying for Ashlyn at that age was pretty easy, if the Spice Girls would wear it, so would Ashlyn as long as it was toned down slightly. But Hayley was tricky. If she didn't like something, she made no bones about it. There is ample evidence of this. We all remember the "it's a shirt" incident when she got an awesome Pocahontas dress from her Aunt Crissy. Hayley, not being a very good birthday present opener, lifted the dress from the box and kind of tossed it to the side with little love. Once she realized (after we showed her and shamed her) that it was indeed a Princess dress, she was happy.
So my poor mom really stressed about the dress she was bringing Hayley. There was no way to test the spinnability of this dress without trying it on. There were no little girls for Mom to test it out on. Molly, Hayley's cousin, was a year younger so that wasn't going to work. Mom just went with a hope and a prayer!
I have a photo of Hayley, Ashlyn and my mom at our home in Germany. Hayley looks like a little angel. She was not a little angel but with her soft blond hair and sweet plump cheeks, she fooled everyone. The dress that Mom had picked out for her was the palest of pink on top and white on the bottom. There was a little ribbon belt punctuated with ribbon roses. It was soft and sweet and oh, so Hayley.
Years later, Hayley would wear nothing but soccer clothes. Sweat pants and t-shirts. Dresses were a foreign idea to her. She was so far away from the soft sweet pinks of her little girl years. Her personality hadn't changed a lot. Hayley was still fun and outspoken and independently minded. She had just completely restyled her wardrobe.
I am not really sure when Hayley began to enjoy dresses again. I am sure that entering high school and attending the school dances helped. There was a white dress with black polka dots for freshman year homecoming. The following year there was a pink one. I don't know that these two dresses really reflected Hayley, I don't know if Hayley was that comfortable in her teenage skin. Junior year, the dresses began to reflect Hayley a bit more. There was a bounce to them and a fun.
The best dress, by far, (after the Snow White dress and pink spinning dress and the old flower girl dress) was senior year prom dress. It did not have much going on in the spin factor but it was beautiful. The perfect blue to bring out Hayley's eyes. Her hair was no longer the soft blond of a four year old, but was now like the creation of a world class colorist though Hayley's many shades of blond were all natural. She was just stunning.
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Princess and Me
So I was reading the cover page of People magazine this week and it occurred to me that The Duchess of Cambridge and myself have quite a bit in common. Now before you laugh this blog off, just read on. I think you will be amazed and surprised.
1. We were both commoners. She was elevated with a fancy title, I was not. But that is neither here nor there.
2. We were both married in old churches. Her's was a bit older being built in 1245 onward. My church was built sometime after 1906. But when you consider that Westminister was in London and Immaculate Conception was in Cedar Rapids, well, you do the math and see that this a valid comparision!
3. Our dresses were not off the rack and both had lace tops. That is where that dress comparisions should probably end except that we both looked lovely!
4. Our grooms were both in uniform.
Ok, are you still with me on this? I know it seems pretty far fetched but you have to admit that my points are spot on.
Now if we want to compare weddings and receptions, mine will win. Her cake had fruit in it. My cake had butter cream frosting on it. My reception tapped three kegs. Pretty sure, no kegs at Kate's fancy pants reception. And though they had a horse pulled carriage, a queen and fancy jewels, I had the real fairy tale wedding. Check with Disney, there is no animated film called Catherine William but there is Snow White!
5. We both love dogs!
6. We both have a love of classic style. Granted, Catherine gets to step out in beautiful clothes far more often then I do, but...
7. We both have family in London.
8. Both of our husbands have deployed shortly after our weddings. No joke, it doesn't matter how rich you are, how big your castle is, or that your grandma-in-law in the Queen of England, an aching heart is an aching heart. The Duchess of Cambridge is exactly like every other military wife in the world when it comes to this. Her prince is out there risking his life just like my prince did.
So there you have it, I am practically a mirrored image of the Duchess of Cambridge. If you take away her youth, her stunning smile, her priceless jewels (though I do have a few pieces I consider priceless), her amazing wardrobe, her well appointed apartments (though her cottage in Wales is small) and her well connected in laws.
1. We were both commoners. She was elevated with a fancy title, I was not. But that is neither here nor there.
2. We were both married in old churches. Her's was a bit older being built in 1245 onward. My church was built sometime after 1906. But when you consider that Westminister was in London and Immaculate Conception was in Cedar Rapids, well, you do the math and see that this a valid comparision!
3. Our dresses were not off the rack and both had lace tops. That is where that dress comparisions should probably end except that we both looked lovely!
4. Our grooms were both in uniform.
Ok, are you still with me on this? I know it seems pretty far fetched but you have to admit that my points are spot on.
Now if we want to compare weddings and receptions, mine will win. Her cake had fruit in it. My cake had butter cream frosting on it. My reception tapped three kegs. Pretty sure, no kegs at Kate's fancy pants reception. And though they had a horse pulled carriage, a queen and fancy jewels, I had the real fairy tale wedding. Check with Disney, there is no animated film called Catherine William but there is Snow White!
5. We both love dogs!
6. We both have a love of classic style. Granted, Catherine gets to step out in beautiful clothes far more often then I do, but...
7. We both have family in London.
8. Both of our husbands have deployed shortly after our weddings. No joke, it doesn't matter how rich you are, how big your castle is, or that your grandma-in-law in the Queen of England, an aching heart is an aching heart. The Duchess of Cambridge is exactly like every other military wife in the world when it comes to this. Her prince is out there risking his life just like my prince did.
So there you have it, I am practically a mirrored image of the Duchess of Cambridge. If you take away her youth, her stunning smile, her priceless jewels (though I do have a few pieces I consider priceless), her amazing wardrobe, her well appointed apartments (though her cottage in Wales is small) and her well connected in laws.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Back by Popular Demand
I haven't written in awhile. I had a few projects to take care of and they got my attention, but they are all wrapped up and I am back to the blog.
This weekend I went on a spiritual retreat. I really want to share with you what I learned, but I can't. Danny asked if I became a Free Mason with all my secrecy, but no, nothing that cool and History Channel Show worthy. A lot of what happened this weekend is beyond words and the rest is not my words to share. I will share this though, I finally got one really important message into my heart and brain. Forgiveness is a good thing.
I have blogged about this before as a hope for an apology. Well, that is not the way to go about it. I am not going to get the apologies that I was wanting and felt that I deserved. I learned that there are two kinds of apologies, the one they mean and the one they don't. I used to throw the second one around all the time. I was always doing something wrong (not always but I am sure it seemed that way) and I would always say "sorry". I didn't mean it because if I did then I would certainly have tried to stop doing whatever it was that I continued to do.
So I had to come to terms with these facts-
1. I will not get an apology if the person that I feel wronged me doesn't think they wronged me.
2. I don't need an apology to forgive. That is all on me. I can carry the grudge and let it dig into my soul more and more or I can forgive.
3. Forgiving doesn't mean I need to forget the kind of hurt that someone is capable of and I have the right and duty to protect myself.
4. Addiction is a tricky thing that often (most often) gets in the way of a lot of wonderful moments.
It felt really great to just let go of the grudge. Even the word sounds heavy and awkward.
Now here is something else I learned, again, it is not all about me. As much as I enjoy starring in the Anne White Show (for which I have been nominated, but never won) there are a whole lot of other things happening out there. I have lived a very charmed and love filled life. I would do well to remember that all the time.
Now I am not saying that I won't throw a pity party now and again, but I think I will make those private and short.
The weekend was long, taxing and emotional. It was enjoyable. It is all a secret.
When I got home Danny and Harlow came out to greet me. Danny said Harlow got excited when she saw my yellow car. Now, you may say that Harlow doesn't know my car is yellow, but I have told her. You may also say that Harlow gets excited when she sees her own reflection so getting excited at seeing me isn't a big deal, but it is. You may also say that it was probably Danny that was watching out the window and Harlow just tagged along outside, and you would probably be right, but it still felt so wonderful to see Danny and Harlow right there as I got out of the car.
When I came into the house, it was clean. It was 'Mom's out of town so we had a party' clean. That was so nice. And Danny listened to me rave about my secret weekend. He hugged me a bunch of times. Harlow sniffed all of me a bunch of times. Then Jacob came home and he was excited to see me. He was happy, genuinely so, that I had a great weekend. I got to chat with my sister who was not seriously hurt in a car accident that totaled her car. I got to talk with my dad who manages to get more ornery every single time I talk to him. Hayley came home bright and beautiful, she is finally starting to feel better. Ashlyn chatted with me on facebook. Emmitt gave me whispers and secrets.
I have said it before and I will say it again, blessed beyond words.
This weekend I went on a spiritual retreat. I really want to share with you what I learned, but I can't. Danny asked if I became a Free Mason with all my secrecy, but no, nothing that cool and History Channel Show worthy. A lot of what happened this weekend is beyond words and the rest is not my words to share. I will share this though, I finally got one really important message into my heart and brain. Forgiveness is a good thing.
I have blogged about this before as a hope for an apology. Well, that is not the way to go about it. I am not going to get the apologies that I was wanting and felt that I deserved. I learned that there are two kinds of apologies, the one they mean and the one they don't. I used to throw the second one around all the time. I was always doing something wrong (not always but I am sure it seemed that way) and I would always say "sorry". I didn't mean it because if I did then I would certainly have tried to stop doing whatever it was that I continued to do.
So I had to come to terms with these facts-
1. I will not get an apology if the person that I feel wronged me doesn't think they wronged me.
2. I don't need an apology to forgive. That is all on me. I can carry the grudge and let it dig into my soul more and more or I can forgive.
3. Forgiving doesn't mean I need to forget the kind of hurt that someone is capable of and I have the right and duty to protect myself.
4. Addiction is a tricky thing that often (most often) gets in the way of a lot of wonderful moments.
It felt really great to just let go of the grudge. Even the word sounds heavy and awkward.
Now here is something else I learned, again, it is not all about me. As much as I enjoy starring in the Anne White Show (for which I have been nominated, but never won) there are a whole lot of other things happening out there. I have lived a very charmed and love filled life. I would do well to remember that all the time.
Now I am not saying that I won't throw a pity party now and again, but I think I will make those private and short.
The weekend was long, taxing and emotional. It was enjoyable. It is all a secret.
When I got home Danny and Harlow came out to greet me. Danny said Harlow got excited when she saw my yellow car. Now, you may say that Harlow doesn't know my car is yellow, but I have told her. You may also say that Harlow gets excited when she sees her own reflection so getting excited at seeing me isn't a big deal, but it is. You may also say that it was probably Danny that was watching out the window and Harlow just tagged along outside, and you would probably be right, but it still felt so wonderful to see Danny and Harlow right there as I got out of the car.
When I came into the house, it was clean. It was 'Mom's out of town so we had a party' clean. That was so nice. And Danny listened to me rave about my secret weekend. He hugged me a bunch of times. Harlow sniffed all of me a bunch of times. Then Jacob came home and he was excited to see me. He was happy, genuinely so, that I had a great weekend. I got to chat with my sister who was not seriously hurt in a car accident that totaled her car. I got to talk with my dad who manages to get more ornery every single time I talk to him. Hayley came home bright and beautiful, she is finally starting to feel better. Ashlyn chatted with me on facebook. Emmitt gave me whispers and secrets.
I have said it before and I will say it again, blessed beyond words.
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