Good Things On Bad Days

You have them, too. I know you do.
And if you tell me you don't I might not be able to talk to you for a little while.
That's just the way it is.

I'm talking about bad days.
You know, the ones that just feel a little off.
And the ones that just feel a little bad for no apparent reason (or at least one that you wish to share).

Today was one of those days for me.
And I didn't expect it at all.
It just happened, from the second I woke up and even to while I write this.

But....

(And I love this next part!)

Over the last little while I have come to know about and believe in, "Good Things On Bad Days".
Sometimes I like to call them,  "Compensatory Blessings".

These tend to pop up for me on days like today.
Days when I am trying really hard to do good.
Days when I am trying really hard to be good.
Days when I am trying really hard to feel good.
The days when none of that seems to work.
Because no matter what, the day just feels bad.

Yup. That was my today.
But just when I was wondering when I will ever feel better again, things began to happen.
Which means I have to share...
So here we go.


Good Thing On Bad Day Number One

Lunch with a friend at Cheesecake Factory.
The company was delightful!
And bonus: I ordered just right.
I almost never do this. Especially there. And most especially my last three visits there.
But I did today.
From the Dr. Pepper with lime, to the Lettuce Wraps, to the Peppermint Bark Cheesecake, it was oddly perfect for my today.

I love that!

(Insert shameless plug for this seasonal cheesecake offering:

Peppermint Bark Cheesecake.

Amazing. Get one. Today. And tomorrow. And every day till it is no longer available. 

Or until your jeans don't fit any more. 

Yes. It is that good.)

Good Thing On Bad Day Number Two

The lunch bill came. The server asked if it was to be split.
I said, "yes".
My friend said, "no".
She generously picked up the tab.
And I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried. Right there in the restaurant.
Because in spite of my feeling bad, I recognized this for what it was.
A really kind and compassionate gesture. And a Compensatory Blessing.
And I felt grateful that I have such good friends. And such a good God.



Good Thing On Bad Day Number Three

This one takes a little back story...

Once upon a time my kids were bitty and I started a Christmas tradition. Each year I would buy them an ornament for our tree that they could one day, when grown and married, take from the family Christmas tree to start their new family Christmas tree with. It's a sweet tradition and one that never died. And my married kids have enjoyed being able to have a sliver of their old to mix with their new. But it didn't take me long into this tradition to realize that one day all of those ornaments would be gone, because all of my kids would be gone. And unless I wanted to end up with a bare tree I needed to do something drastic. So I began to buy myself an ornament each year, too.

Well, this year I find all these ornaments trapped in what I call 'The Ornament Hostage Crisis'. It's kind of a tragically funny story that means...no ornaments. And an un-ornamented tree just won't do. So today I decided to improvise. And I purchased some inexpensive red, green and gold ornament balls, as well as some ingredients to make apple cinnamon ornaments like I did with my kids when they were little.

For more about this check out my daughter's blog post here:

http://karissaandscott.blogspot.com/2012/12/cinnamon-ornaments.html  

And then I went home...

(and this is where Good Thing On Bad Day Number Three really starts)

...where on my apartment door was a sticker from the FedEx man.
I had a package at the apartment office.
I thought for sure this would be a package stacked with legal inquiries.
But instead it was a box that looked like this:

(Gasp! Much too big for legal docs! Happy Surprise!)

And inside that box was a box that looked like this:

(Oooo! Pretty!!)

And inside that box was a box that looked like this:

(Ahhh. I love these kinds of boxes!)

And inside that box was this...

An early Christmas gift from Kid Middle and Her Man.
A Waterford ornament.
Similar to some that are currently under siege.
But new.
And for me a symbolically fresh start to ornament collecting.

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried. A lot. And laughed. A lot. At the same time. For a long time.

It took me two and a half more hours to recognize how very sentimental this was.
My own child was now passing to me a tradition that I had once started with her.
So blessed am I!



Good Thing On Bad Day Number Four

Later I picked up my mail (boring!).
And remembered that I didn't open yesterday's mail (not boring!).
So I did.
In yesterday's mail was a simple note from my sister.

Hi Kam,

Thought you might like these not-so-great quality pictures. : )

I love you!

Debbie

 And here my friends, is a look at a couple of those not-so-great quality pictures.

A picture of my big lovely house, on a big lovely hill, with a big lovely view...

And a picture of me and my dog. 

In my hot pink and hot green room. 

Where I wrote on the closet walls.

For more on this check out this: 

http://pointshootspeak.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-writing-on-wall.html 

This time I just smiled.
And then laughed out loud.
Then cried.
But only a little.
Because I've learned that the sad, the lonely, the dark, the gray, and the just-plain-bad-for-no-apparent-reason (or at least one that you wish to share) days will always come.

But they will often come with Compensatory Blessings - Good Things On Bad Days.

And most importantly, they will always, always give way to the happy, full, bright, sunny, and just-plain-good days that lie waiting around the corner.

The Writing On The Wall

When I was young I lived in a big lovely house, on a big lovely hill, with a big lovely view.
It was very amazing.
And in this big lovely house, on a big lovely hill, with a big lovely view I had a very special room.
Because I got to make it up and I got to plan it.

It was pink and green. Hot pink and hot green. With white cabinetry and a built-in desk.
I had a white, four poster canopy bed and fluffy pillows. It was a basement room with no windows, which made for kind of dangerous, but very sound sleeping. My brother and sisters had special rooms, too. With weird things like carpet on the walls, and funky murals. It was very fun!

But I had something that made my room the best ever...

Double closet doors covered in a material that I could draw on.
With marker.
And then wipe off and draw again.

Since I don't really draw... at all... it was mostly about writing for me. Sometimes I would fill both closet doors with writing. Words I liked, things I wanted to remember, stuff to think about, feelings, ideas, goals, dreams, who I wanted to be.

And when my friends were over we would spend hours in my room drawing, or coloring, or writing, or scribbling whatever we wanted and then wiping it off and starting again. We played Hangman, and Tic-Tac-Toe, and any other games that you draw out. We planned our lives, our boys, our kids, our houses, and our spaces. There were lots of initials and plus signs. But no math beyond Me + My Friend = Very, Very Best Friends Forever. Or Me + The Boy = True Love Always. In a heart.

And when I was feeling especially brave I would practice my first name with the last name of the boy I liked. You know, just to see how they might fit together if Once Upon A Time ever came. Then I could erase it and no one would ever know. Everything was accompanied by crudely drawn pictures of flowers and sunshine. It was magical in all the right ways.

But as life happened, my family eventually moved from that house. And I began to grow up. It wasn't long before the writing, the coloring, the scribbling, the words, the ideas, the dreams, the school girl math, and the flowers and sunshine began to fade.

Until one day the memory of my magical closet doors was tucked deeply away.
So deeply that I had completely forgotten about them.

Recently I moved into an apartment.
With double closet doors.
That I can write on and then erase.
Because they are mirrors.

I didn't make the connection between my childhood closet doors and these closet doors right away. In fact, I didn't tap into that part of my brain for months. But it happened.

It started one day when I came across a quote that was really meaningful to me. A quote that I wanted to reflect on. Every day. So I wrote it at the top of my mirror:

"Communication with Heavenly Father is not a trivial matter. It is a sacred privilege." 

It sits there. And I read it every day and am reminded that I want to pray more meaningfully and deeply.
And more importantly, I want to always listen.


A few days later I needed a positive affirmation to remind me of my worth. So at the top of the other side of the closet I wrote:

"I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father, who loves me, and I love Him." 

(I see it every day and remember that no matter what anyone says, I am valuable.)

Then a few days later I revisited some scripture passages that have have become personally significant to me over the past year. They had started to fade and I didn't want them to. So on the mirror I wrote their references and little reminder clues about each one.

God knows my needs; He will be my light in the wilderness; He will not give stones if I ask for bread.

(I see it every day and remember that my Father in Heaven in acutely aware of me and my struggles. 

He will not let me down or forsake me. And He is very involved in the details of my life.)

Shortly after that, while praying, and trying very hard to listen, I had some thoughts come into my mind. I knew I needed a way to remain focused on them. So I added some key words to my mirror.

Do not worry.    Trust.    Faith.

(I see it every day and remember that God plans better for me than I plan for myself.)

Another week or two later I heard some things I really needed to hear. And remembered some things I really needed to remember. So I made myself a little note to add them to the mirror. And I did.

More doing.    First observe, then serve.    Leave people better than you found them.

(I see it every day and remember that I need to take action. And care for others.)

...................................................................................................................................................................

And then the flashback came.
Like a flood.
And for a few brief moments I was a young girl again, back in my room, with a marker in my hand.
Dreaming, hoping, planning, wishing.
And writing on the wall.

It was powerful. Because I had accidentally and naturally stumbled on a part of me. A part of me that I had forgotten.

I don't think I ever meant to forget writing on the wall. In fact, I'm pretty sure I never completely did. Because for years I have written notes to myself. With my finger. On shower doors covered in steam. I have written my name, kid's names, friend's names, business names, quotes, ideas, and deep thoughts and feelings that have only come in the solitude of a hot, steamy shower. All notes easily erased with just a splash of water.

But what I had forgotten was the connection. The connection between how I was writing and what I was writing. The connection between the me I had become and the me that time and experience had obscured.
The learning, thinking, dreaming, planning, creative me.

...................................................................................................................................................................

By now my mirrors are getting pretty full of little things like,

     Rejoice and be glad in today.    Shine.    Strength to overcome; Courage to become.    

And there is still one side of the mirror that has a big empty space in the middle. 

So I can make sure my outfits match.
And fit.

But the other side? Well, it looks like this... 

Every day I see things that keep me focused on where I am going. Instead of where I have been.

Things that keep me remembering who I have been all along.

And in a corner, near the bottom, is this...

A crudely drawn flower.
Just like I've been drawing since I was a young girl in a big lovely house, on a big lovely hill, with a big lovely view.
Hot pink and hot green.

Announcements!

I'm not gonna lie. Every time I hear the word "announcements" I can't help but think of Girl's Camp and 125 girls singing at the top of their lungs...

"Announcements, announcements, annou-ou-nce-ments!!...

Keep announcements nice and short, nice and short, nice and short. Keep announcements nice and short! 

WE DON'T LIKE THEM!!!"

So I'll keep this one short. Even though you'll like it.

Here it is...

And here it is again...

Yup. That's right.
In May I am having another Grandbaby. Because my Kid Two is having her own Kid Two.

And after the weekend playing with her Kid One, I couldn't be more excited about this!

I mean, honestly. Look at this. Isn't he dreamy? It only makes sense to have another.

And so CONGRATULATIONS to this beautiful and growing family!!

And that will do it for announcements today.

= )

To see more fun pics and read Kid Two's announcement about this check out her blog:

http://karissaandscott.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-secret-is-out.html

The Little Man and De-eh-eh-Bu-Ssy!!

Yup. You read that right.
De-eh-eh-bu-ssy.
Because while Rachmaninoff makes me dreamy, and Chopin makes me sigh, Debussy makes me stutter just a little bit. In all the right ways.
But mostly because the video you are about to watch is riddled with camera shake.

Seriously. You would think I would be able to get this whole video-with-my-camera-thing right already. It honestly is not that complicated! But I don't do it nearly often enough and always wait till approximately 15.8 seconds before I need to use the skill to remember that I do not have the skill. At all.

My excuses this time around?
I had just run a half marathon. On five hours of sleep. For three nights in a row.
But I had had caffeine on the race course.
My body doesn't know exactly what to do with caffeine.
I had placed myself out of the way of the judge (do not distract the judge!!) and in a position I thought would stabilize the camera.
It took about 18 seconds for my hand to cramp. And for me to wonder what the hay bale I was doing in this position. And trying to remember just how long Little Man's song was.
I thought it was two minutes. (I can do anything for two minutes, right?)
It was four.
Ouch.
Tired.
Hungry.
Thirsty.
Dizzy.
Camera shake.

But here is the good news. This video is not about me.
Nope it is about An Awesome Performance by the Little Man.
Because he played really, really well.
And by really, really well, I mean, you decide.
But I'm telling you he played flippin' fantastic!

So take a listen. Ignore the wiggles. And know that in the end he got the highest score. A 4... Plus.
And nothing but oozing accolades from the judge.

Yup. It was a good day for Debussy. And Little Man. Who is really Not-So-Little-Any-More-Man.

And I am left with just three words...
Way to go!!!
Next time, TRIPOD!!!

(Oh, and a self-memo to remember the record off button. So you can be spared the lovely parting shot of the floor. Geesh.)

The One First Thing

It's Wednesday. Of the next week after the last week that I wrote. Which can only mean one thing. That I've been busy. Well, it can really mean two things. That I've been busy and that now I have lots to write about. I don't always have lots to write about on the Wednesday of the next week after the last week that I wrote. But this time I do. And this is a good thing. Except for the part where I will have to be careful not to bury you with information overload. So I'm going to start with just one first thing.

And for today that one first thing is adoption.

It goes like this...

Last week my Gal Pal came to visit. For five days.

You should know that:

* She and I met a little over 16 years ago. At a church picnic. In Kansas.
* We met when I recognized her husband there. Because he went to my High School. In Texas. And then years later he unexpectedly showed up with his family at a church picnic. In Kansas.
* I am pretty positive that God moved my family from Washington to Texas when I was 16 so that I could meet her husband -  who later met her, and married her, and moved her to Kansas. Where I could meet her.
* We became instant friends.
* Over the last 16 years we have been through a lot together. And by a lot, that is exactly what I mean.
A. Lot. I will not give you the very lengthy list. But know that it includes videotaping the births of her two youngest children. And the amazing things she says while in labor.

Now it also includes divorce.
And adoption.

While my Gal Pal was here we had a chance to lend mutual support about these last two things. We laughed, we cried, we ran, and we ate a lot of really good food.

And I learned this about adoption:

* Adopting 3 kids from Ukraine is hard. Very, very HARD.
* When adopting children at risk there is an urgency that only a mother with a deep love and concern for her missing children can understand.
* The adoption process takes way longer than you ever plan or hope for.
* It's surprising who supports you. And even more surprising who doesn't.
* But every kind gesture, no matter how big or small, is profoundly appreciated.
* Sometimes the obstacles seem insurmountable.
* And adoption of this kind cannot be done alone. It honestly and in every way "takes a village".
* Each and every one of us can be a part of this village.

I've thought a lot about this. About how much I want to be in this village. And what I can do to be a helpful part of it from a thousand miles and several states away. So today, and scattered throughout the next many days... and weeks... and even months, if necessary, and all the way until my friend has her kids safely at home with her, I will do what I can. Which may mean bugging all of you about it through this blog.

So this is the other first thing today. A way I can help. And a way you can help.

On Saturday, November 3, 2012, in South Jordan, Utah, there will be a "Sugar Rush 5K for Charity " with all proceeds to benefit the adoption of my Gal Pal's Ukranian kids.

Like me, most of you don't live in Utah where the race is being held. This makes helping with this thing a little complicated.

But...

I've come up with some things that you and I can do to pitch in:

1.  Visit http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/. Look around and read their amazing story. See if there is anything you can think of doing to help. Anything. Then do it. And pass the link along. Ask others to see if they can think of anything they can do to help. Anything.

2. Visit this specific link http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-feel-sugar-rush-coming.html to find information about the upcoming 5K event.

3.  Pass this link along to anyone you know who lives in Utah that likes to run. Or walk. Or move. And encourage them to participate.

4.  Consider donating the amount of the required entry fee as if you were able to run it yourself. And then... Just Donate It! Bonus: If you don't live there you won't even have to get off the couch to be part in this way. And you can still feel really, really good about yourself. Because you made a difference to someone else.

5.  If you live in my town and want to donate and also run, let me know. I will be running a 5K on that same day, at that same time, in their honor. And I would love to have some running buddies. Really. I mean this. Text me, email me, message me, comment on this post, whatever. Let me know if you'd be interested and I'll take care of the rest. Including delicious post-run cookies and milk.

6.  If you do not live in my town and want to donate and also run, do what I'm doing. Donate, run in your own town in honor of this adoption, and gather some running/walking buddies to also donate and join you in your own race. Provide delicious post-run cookies and milk.

7.  Share. Share. Share. Because sharing is caring. And the best way to get the word out. And that is what is needed here. To get the word out.

So there you have it. The one first thing I just had to get out before I can get to the rest of the stuff I want to write about. But the one thing that I felt was so important that it needed to come first. I hope everyone who reads this will take a minute or two to think about it. And share it. And do one first thing about it themselves, whatever that may be.

Today's Rainy Run

Today I needed to run. But I woke up to the threat of rain. And swiftly decided to go back to sleep. This worked for about eight and a half minutes. Until I remembered that the rain was only supposed to get more threatening as the day wore on. Which kind of woke my brain up. And by, kind of woke my brain up, I really mean, started a sudden rush of thoughts, ideas, and pressures all swirling into one powerful vortical flow that I Could. Not. Quiet.

So I dragged myself out of bed...

and procrastinated....
and procrastinated...
and procrastinated.

For two more hours.

I walked the dog. I answered emails. I Facebook stalked. I did laundry. I played Words With Friends.  Anything to avoid running. But the day was wearing on and I desperately needed a shower. Which meant I needed to exercise first. So I checked the weather one more time in an effort to answer the burning "to run, or not to run" question.

As luck would have it, there was only a 30% chance of rain right then. And a 70% chance of rain and thunderstorms later. If I was going to make it any further than the mailbox and back before getting struck by lightning I needed to stop procrastinating and get out the door. Now.

Or...
I could lift weights instead.
Or... 
I could do a short run and then lift weights.
Or... 
I could go back to bed.

I thought this through carefully. For another thirty minutes. Mentally examining every running route option. And every weights option. And every sleeping option. None of which included the gym. Because I'm pretty sure they wouldn't even let me in the gym without that shower.

So I finally settled on a plan for a 30-minute outside run and then a workout video in the privacy of my own little apartment. I laced up my running shoes, threw on a safe-for-running-in-the-rain-and-not-looking-obscene tech tee, and hit the door running.
Just as the rain started.
Then got harder. Rapidly.
With a healthy side of wind.
And distant thunder.

But I had made up my mind and was not about turn back.

It took about one and a half blocks of pelting rain to feel a wide smile cross my face with the sudden recollection that...

I LOVE RUNNING IN THE RAIN!!!

I mentally rerouted and opted for a longer run and no weights.

Another two blocks and I could see large water droplets hanging precariously on the edge of my eyelashes. And three blocks later I began to feel the rain wash sweat into the corners of my mouth. I love this for some reason. Weird, I know.

Enter...

*Happy, energetic, mid-run sigh*

I'm not gonna lie. I find moments like these to be invigorating and empowering. And I kind of like to think in my mind that I am hard core. I also like to think in my mind that the passing cars think so, too. (I doubt this is true. They probably really think that I'm just not-so-bright as your average blond.)

I was running pretty hard and pretty happy by now and was pretty tuned into my music. Until I rounded the bend and entered the tree-lined running trail...just as there was a break between songs.

And all I could hear was the rain in the trees.

I stopped cold.
I pulled out the earplugs.
I turned off the iPod.
I stood still and quiet.
I closed my eyes.
And I listened.

What I heard was not a sound. It was a memory. A memory from when I was young and would venture into the acres of forest behind our Washington State home for lengthy walks in the rain. These were days long before headphones or iPods or tech tees. Simpler, safer times. Times of me, self-discovery, deep thinking, heavy feeling, and rain tip-tip-tapping in the trees, spilling over leaves and bough to the forest floor below.

For the next three miles I ran completely unplugged. And deeply lost in the sound of sweet, sweet memories.



*Dreamy Sigh*




*And another Dreamy Sigh*



This part of my run was over too quickly. I wish I could have remained for ten more miles. Or ten more days.

Rounding the corner back up onto the sidewalk of the busy, wet street, was a shocking jolt to reality as I powered up a long, slow hill and back to my apartment. Once again tuned into my music.

It turns out that the weather men got it backwards today (surprise!) and I inadvertently chose the rainiest time of today to run. I had to wring the bottom of my safe-for-running-in-the-rain-and-not-looking-obscene tech tee out three times before I finished. I don't know how many days it will take for my shoes to dry. And ironically, the rain stopped shortly after my run stopped.

But that's okay. Because long before I made it home I realized that for today's rainy run I was not hard core. Nor was I not-so-bright.

I was simply blessed.

What Is Normal?

Do you ever find you asking yourself things like...

Is it normal to be annoyed by crooked wall hangings?
Is it normal to like butter and sugar on your pancakes?
Is it normal to be afraid of spiders?
Is it normal to have to clean your kitchen before you can comfortably cook in your kitchen?
Is it normal to have receipts from 1979?
Is it normal to have a headache after eating Nacho Cheese Doritos, but feel just fine after eating Cooler Ranch Doritos? (Seriously. What gives?)
Is it normal to smell your own armpits?

Well, these are some of the questions I ask myself. (Emphasis on some. Because I don't have any receipts from 1979. Nor do I smell my own armpits. But I know people who do. Gross.) And since I "put it all out there" in my last honest and open post, I am now free to confess that going through a divorce has added a whole list of new questions to my "Is it normal...?" list.

Like...

Is it normal to feel like everyone is talking around you, but not to you?
Is it normal to feel kind of isolated from your family, as well as some of your old friends and activities?
Is it normal to feel a little lost when all that was familiar is shifting too quickly to keep up?
Is it normal to feel compassion and anger simultaneously?
Is it normal to feel nervous about eating out by yourself for the first time?
(I was. But I did. They sat me at a table for 8. By myself. True story. I count it as a victory.)

I could make this list very long. But I won't. Because I think you get the point by now.
And perhaps you even asked yourself some questions about me after reading my last post.

Questions like...

When going through a divorce is it normal to feel really sad, really happy, like a failure, like a success, uncertain of yourself, confident, frightened, brave, anxious, peaceful, and a host of other emotions - even in the same day?

It's okay if you did. I did, too. Then I Googled it. Because Google knows everything.
And if you can't find it on YouTube it hasn't been done.

I didn't Google all of these questions individually, because I am pretty familiar with the grieving process. So I just Googled "grief and divorce". And then I opened the first link at the top of the page.

I found this:

"It’s never easy when a marriage or significant relationship ends. Whatever the reason for the split—and whether you wanted it or not—the breakup of a relationship can turn your whole world upside down and trigger all sorts of painful and unsettling feelings." 

And this:

"Recognize that it’s OK to have different feelings. It’s normal to feel sad, angry, exhausted, frustrated, and confused—and these feelings can be intense. You also may feel anxious about the future. Accept that reactions like these will lessen over time. Even if the marriage was unhealthy, venturing into the unknown is frightening."

Source: Mental Health America

http://www.helpguide.org/mental/coping_divorce_relationship_breakup.htm

So...all my emotions...

Normal, or not?

Feel free to weigh in. But I'm pretty sure the answer to the question is, "normal".
And that it's all a natural response to the divorce process. A process that comes with much grieving.

It doesn't mean that I am making a bad decision

It doesn't mean that I should be doing anything differently. 

It doesn't mean that I am second-guessing.

It just means that change is hard, and sometimes we resist it, even when it is the best thing.
It just means that appropriate grieving is hard. And it takes time.

It just means that, as one of my therapists terms it, "un-coupling" is hard.

It just means that I am normal. 

And that I have a heart.

So now that you know, you should also know this. I have been completely amazed by the kind and loving responses I received after my last post. Phone calls, text messages, FB messages and posts, blog comments, emails. I have cried a little (and smiled a little!) with each one. I have not felt judged, or as though anyone is taking sides. I have just felt support for me and for my family. And that is exactly as it should be.

Expressing what this means to me is next to impossible. Once again, words fail me where tears do not. But I will be forever grateful for the messages, calls, thoughts, prayers, lunches, difficult conversations, hugs, laughs, cries, and places of safety, refuge and strength you have provided for me all long the way. 

As uncomfortable as all of the "feeling" may be, I am so glad human beings like you and I have hearts. 

So that you can feel my pain. And I can feel your love. 

Thank you so much.

And one day, I will write that post about what not to say to someone who is divorcing.
Hint: If you are reading this, you probably didn't say it. ; )

A Really Honest Post

Okay. The title makes it sound as though I don't always write honest posts. That's not true. I do.
Honestly.

But lately I find myself having a little trouble writing anything at all. And by a little trouble I really mean very, very much trouble. My "posts" page is quickly filling up with drafts that go unfinished and unpublished. Lots and lots of drafts. Because up until now this blog has been a really great avenue for me to gain a little confidence, learn some new things, and do a bit of self-healing along the way. But right about now, it seems more of a frustration than anything.

I realized just how much the other morning. When I woke up feeling funky. And by funky I don't mean, put-on-your-dancing-shoes-and-boogie funky. I mean, bury-your-head-under-a-pillow-and-maybe-never-come-out funky. But I did unbury my head. Long enough to read a super funny blog post.
Not written by me.
It seriously had me laughing out loud. An authentic from the gut laugh. It was a great way to start the day!... Until I remembered how very much I miss writing a fun blog post. Then I just got mad. And by mad I don't mean, I'm-a-flippin'-genius mad. I mean, I'd-feel-much-better-after-blowing-up-a-Porta-Potty mad. So I put on my angry eyes and started an angry post. Totally unfiltered. Trust me. You did not want to read this. I sat on it for three days. Then decided what I needed most was to take off the angry eyes and just write a really honest post. And by really honest, I mean open.

So here are five really honest and open things you should know:

1. After nearly 27 years of marriage, I am in the middle of a divorce. This is hard. Harder than anything.
2. I moved out of my house, in the middle of the night, exactly six months ago. Four weeks before my daughter's wedding.
3. I served divorce papers one month later. Nine days before the wedding celebration in her husband's town.
4. I know that 1, 2, and 3 make me sound crazy. I am not. But over the past few months I have reached my complete and total stress threshold. Several times.
5. And I have successfully made it through nearly one year's worth of holidays "alone". What do I have left? The big ones. My birthday, the anniversary, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Then I can check off a whole year's worth of "firsts". And for the first time ever I am looking forward to January.

And here are five more really honest and open things you should know:

1. If there is anything out there more difficult than divorce, please don't wish it upon me. Or anyone. Because divorce is enough brutality for one lifetime.
2. I feel sad. Really sad. I feel happy. Really happy. I feel like a failure... I feel successful... I feel uncertain of myself... I feel confident... I feel frightened... I feel brave... I feel anxious... I feel peaceful... I feel, I feel, I feel! I pretty much feel everything. And I really feel everything. Often in the same day. But most of all I feel better, and healthier, than I have in a really long time.
3. I cry every day. Some days I cry a little. Some days I cry a lot. Either way, I am growing new wrinkles. To be fair, I have earned them. But that doesn't mean I want them. Ergh.
4. I am learning a lot about myself - who I am, and who I want to be. Each new day I have to look directly at me... and dig deep. Very deep. It's kind of big. And important. And difficult to blog about.
5. Mostly, I am learning a lot about my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Stuff I thought I knew. But didn't really.

And if you are up to it, here are five more really honest and open things you should know:

1. I have learned what not to say to people who are divorcing. Because people have said it to me.
2. But sometimes saying the wrong thing is better than saying nothing at all...    Sometimes.
3. I have been blessed with amazing friends. And amazing family.
4. I have been blessed with amazing everything, really. All along the way. So. Abundantly. Blessed.
5. And I am deeply grateful. Usually there are not words to express just how grateful. But there are tears. So I grow more wrinkles.

There is more. A lot more. Things I miss, things I don't miss; things I love about now, and things I can hardly bear; frustrating things; absurd things; hilarious things; overwhelming things; the good, the bad, the ugly, and...the uglier things. And beautiful things. A dozen or so more lists of five. Or ten.

I have never wanted for this blog to serve as an online journal. Instead, I have wanted it to be fun, inspiring, poignant, clever, thoughtful, and humorous, with messages that people can relate to. Or at least find a little joy in. But those things are hard in coming these days. I also wasn't going to write about my divorce until it was all over. And even then I planned to write only three posts, all in one week, and be done about it. But I'm not gonna lie. This has felt so good to write. Maybe because sometimes I just need to get the real stuff out. Or  maybe because in getting it out I have freed myself... to free my words. I'm not exactly sure. But it may be time for a season of more posts like this. Honest. And most of all, open. So hang with me while I figure it all out.

And I promise. I'll try to leave the angry eyes at home.

Dear Anonymous...

Dear Anonymous,

Last night I went to bed with nothing. This morning I woke to this... in my email inbox:

_________________________________________________________

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "A Special Kind of Post"

Hello! This is kind of off topic but I need some advice from an established blog.
Is it tough to set up your own blog? I'm not very techincal but I can figure things out pretty fast. I'm thinking about setting up my own but I'm not sure where to begin. Do you have any ideas or suggestions? Many thanks

Mens Swim Trunks
Have a look at my blog - Mens Swim Trunks

_________________________________________________________

Oh, Anonymous. Dear, dear Anonymous. You should know that there is so much wrong about this that you have left me speechless...almost. And blushing...not really at all. But creeped out? Completely! Which, of course, leaves me with nothing to do but respond:

1. Do I know you?
2. Do you know me?
3. Gosh, I sure hope not!

And now my advice and real response to your comment.  Which, by the way, has magically disappeared.

1. By "kind of off topic", you must have really meant, "completely and totally not on topic at all". Because "A Special Kind of Post" really is special and deserves far more respect than your comment had to offer. You should read it. And know that if you want to have a successful blog you will need to learn to say what you mean and mean what you say.

2. By "established blog" I'm pretty sure you had no idea what you meant. Because my blog is not that. Research, baby. Research.

3. Please note misspelled techincal. This can only lead to the obvious conclusion that by, "I can figure things out pretty fast", you really meant, "I need to learn how to use a spell checker". Do this. It's important. Really.

4. Must. Not. Lie. Trust me. People are smart and don't appreciate lies. Like saying, "I'm thinking about setting up my own [blog]". And then saying, "Have a look at my blog". I caught this one right away. Really. I did. In spite of the blond hair.

5. I know you're technical, whether you can spell it or not, because my friends who can actually spell technical, but really are not technical, email blog post comments directly to my personal email. Because they can't figure out how to comment directly onto Blogger. But you? Well, you figured out not only how to post a comment directly to Blogger, but how to post a comment directly to Blogger anonymously. This is not for the technically faint of heart. This I know from experience. And so I shake my head at you. The end.

6. I will never, not ever, as long as I live, EVER, have a look at your blog, Mens Swim Trunks. Because some things you can't unsee.

However...and on a happy note, you saved my readers from the serious post I had written for today! Go you!! 

And so now I leave you with one bit of parting advice. Look somewhere else for advice. Like Google. Because Google knows everything. Including how to spell technical. Or use a spell checker.

Sincerely And Thanks For The Giggle,

Me

A Special Kind of Post

Okay. I admit. It's been awhile. Again.
And I have absolutely no good reasons for this. Except for that I just really haven't felt like writing.
So I decided that since this is my blog I don't really have to write if I don't want to. So I didn't.
But today I am.
Because I have something very special to write about.

Adoption. 

The especially overwhelming and scary kind of adoption.
The kind of adoption that doesn't involve just one child, but a family of three.
The kind that will affect an already family of six.
The kind that will come with language barriers, cultural differences, and a complete change of life.
The kind that means some really special and important kids will have opportunities to far surpass the life of crime, prostitution, drugs and homelessness that currently awaits them.
The kind of adoption that involves orphans.
From the Ukraine.

This is not about me. 

This is about one of my dearest friends whose family recently hosted two of three Ukranian siblings and fell so in love that they have decided to grow their family in ways they never expected.

I was recently able to make a short trip to Utah and spend some time hearing her stories in person. Each time she spoke of these kids and her family's experiences with them I was moved to tears. And it was evident that these two families belong together.

But the process is daunting. And expensive. And since the oldest of the siblings is 16, and soon to be turned out onto the streets, they are operating under a very short time frame to get things in order.

So my blog today is to direct you to their blog.

Now... I realize that not everyone has time to read everything on someone's blog.
Believe me. I totally get this.
So I've made it easy by posting direct links to some really important and inspiring pages.
And some of my favorites. : )

Just click on the links and away you go!

First, the homepage. If you have time, read everything.
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/

If you don't, then follow this user friendly guide to My Top Ten 'Truax Adoption Adventure' Posts.

1.  Life Altered - how these kids ended up at my friend's house in the first place:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/life-altered.html

2.  I've Seen That Smile Somewhere Before - the first time they all meet!
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/ive-seen-that-smile-somewhere-before.html

3.  Meet Albina, Alina and Maksym - your chance at meeting these cute Ukranian kids:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/p/meet-albina-alina-maksym.html

4.  Forever? - a touching story expressing one of the girls' desires to stay: 
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/forever.html

5.  How Would You Define SUCCESS? - a poignant and realistic look at some of the challenges that lie ahead and how my friend would define success:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/how-would-you-define-success.html

6.  Photo Shoot - lots of pictures of the family all together (Wish I had been there to shoot for them!)
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/photo-shoot.html

7.  Roller Coaster - written the night before the girls went back to the Ukraine, and a glimpse into some concerns of the oldest adoptee:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/roller-coaster.html

8.  Hello! - the first contact from miles far, far away, and a little more about Ukranian orphans:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/hello.html

9.  Unique or Crazy - what sets these hopeful adoptives apart:
 http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/unique-or-crazy.html

10.  Different or Same? - an interesting online fundraising comparison:
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/2012/08/different-or-same.html

So there you have it.
My Top Ten 'Truax Adoption Adventure Posts'.
Please take the time to check out what you can.
And then follow their blog, because they update almost daily.

But here are the most important parts...

1.  First check out "Facts About Ukranian Orphanages" to see why it is so important that my friends get these kids to their home.
http://truaxadoptionadventure.blogspot.com/p/facts-about-ukrainian-orphanages.html

2. Then check out "How You Can Help" (on the left side of the homepage).
There will be fundraising projects ranging from cookie dough sales, to benefit concerts, to silent auctions.
Is there something you can do to help? That will make a difference.
Need to purchase from Amazon? Do it through their blog. That will make a difference.
Got $1 to donate? That will make a difference.
Know someone that can help? That will make a difference.
So...

3. ...Spread the word!!
Please forward a link to my blog and/or forward a link to their blog.
Forward to anyone you know.
Forward to everyone you know.
Email it.
FaceBook it.
Tweet it.
Whatever it.
Just do it.
The more people share, the more people care.

And now you should know that this friend is the same friend I Spring Break in California with. 

Here is a picture from our trip to Torrey Pines Beach.

(Not my feet.)

I'm pretty sure that because of adoption these trips will be temporarily suspended for a few years. 

I'm also pretty sure she'd say it will be worth it. 

And because she is my friend I will say the same.

I am 100% behind her on this adventure.

And it feels great to be involved in something so much bigger and better than myself.

So get involved. You'll feel great, too.

: )

Thank you for taking the time to read.  And thank you for passing it on.

Back... Again

So, it's been three weeks since I blogged. This was purely accidental. Believe me. I just took a really great vacation, and have really cool pics, of really amazing places, that I really want to share. Really.

But once again, life got in the way of the blog. 

(What??? Again? Geesh!!) 

First of all was Kid One and Kid Two with Grandkid One in town for the week after my trip. 

And I'm not gonna lie. This is the best kind of life to get in the way. 

Because "hang with kids and grandkid" is at the top of my favorite-things-to-do list.

But after that was the kind of life that gets in the way that is exactly nowhere on my favorite-things-to-do list.

It went like this:

A busy last Saturday.

I worked hard and accomplished lots.

My mental incentive was the reward of a late night summer run.

Because I really love late night summer runs.

Hot and humid, gentle breezes, and emotions that only work themselves out with hard and sweaty mileage.

And I earned it.

So less than a half a mile out I was already deep in my head.

And too distracted to notice the uneven sidewalk that clipped the front of my running shoe.

I hit the ground before I even knew it was on its way.

Ouch.

A few seconds on the ground.

And a few more on my feet.

I carefully assessed the damage.

This included sobbing for 18 seconds.

Because that was all I had left of my weekly sobbing allowance.

Assessment:

Knees scraped to bleeding, palm shredded, shoulder throbbing, and a wrist with limited mobility.

But I quickly recognized that nothing hurt as bad as I wanted to run.

Which translated to... Just. Keep. Running.

So I did.

Three miles later I began to encroach upon this week's sobbing allowance.

And I walked the finish.

By the time I hit my door I could no longer move my arm without wincing.

I could not remove my ponytail holder.

I could not squeeze the shampoo bottle.

I could not raise my arm to wash my hair.

Hello ER.

Hello elbow fracture.

And a splint from armpit to fingertips.

Think Abominable Snowman.

True story.

Kindly add "fall while running and fracture elbow" to my least-favorite-things-to-do list.

And so I had quite the week. 

I tried to blog. About nine times. But typing hurt. And nothing inspired, or inspiring, dared escape my brain. 

I could not photograph. No holding a spoon, much less a camera. 

And photo editing? Impossible. 

Piano playing, writing, job interviewing... nope, nope, nope.

So I decided to sit the week out.

Enter this morning and a trip to the Orthopedic Specialist... 

Finally!!

I walked in with visions of brightly colored casts in my head, carefully considering which would make the best summer accessory. 

And I walked out with... 

NO CAST AT ALL!! 

Yay! 

Yay!! 

YAY!!!!

Because apparently this type and location of fracture is best served by healing that takes place with movement rather than immobility.

Now, don't get me wrong. This does not mean it does not hurt. It does. A lot.

And there are only so many ways I can move my hand, wrist, and forearm. Even a little.

But really. In a few more days I will be able to run again! 

And then as I can start adding in the other activities I love. Like holding a camera. And a spoon.

For today, I'm just happy to be back at the blog. (What??? Again? Geesh!!) 

With really high hopes for next week posting some really cool pics, of really amazing places, from my really great vacation.

Really.

(And just for fun...

Fuzzy Me. 

And Abominable Snowman.)

Friday Photo

No introduction needed.

And there you have it.

The Smart Car.

I don't know why, but I find this car to be incredibly annoying.
And every time I am driving behind one I just have this urge to...
To...
To...
Inch up...
And tap it.
Bump it from behind.
Just a tiny bit.
To see if it will crack open like an egg.


I know. It's not rational. But it is what it is.  
And this urge stirs from deep within my being. 
It's very hard to control. 


However, even I was surprised when I came upon this car in the parking lot the other morning and still felt that same urge.
While walking.
So I had to take a picture and tell my story.

And that is the end.
Aren't you glad I told you?


Now I am on my way to the Caribbean for a week away with extended family. I will be traveling with Nikon. Hopefully, between the two of us we can have some far more stellar Friday Photos than the offering of today.

Bon Voyage!

Happy Independence Day!

and

God Bless America!

Rachmaninoff Rocks My World!

It's Thursday. Which is piano lesson day. 

And a reminder that I am way behind on posting the good stuff 

that has happened over the past few months.

Like this...

(Eh...watch the constantly moving fingers.
Not the constantly moving head of the man in front of me.
Or the constantly moving camera as it tries to avoid the constantly moving head.)

And then check this out...

Yup. 

He's finally learned that
If He Plays It, They Will Come.
A chick magnet in the making.

And thank you, ladies, for gifting him the lovely flowers.
That will never die.
We love you, too!!

: )

Puddles of Mud

Last week while babysitting Grandson One I got to experience one of life's great and simple pleasures.

Mud Puddles.

There was no rain, but the sprinklers had done a very thorough job one night,
Leaving the little parking lot dips full of murky, dirty water. 
       An undeniably magnetic attraction for toddler boys.


And so it was in one quick motion that Grandson One was jumping, 
Stamping, 
Splashing,
And squealing.
In the icky little puddles.
        This was very fun to watch and his face was filled with delight!

But it didn't take me long to recognize that his feet and legs were becoming a mess.
And then he bent down and slapped his hands in the water. 
And then he bent over and tried to drink it. 
And so it was in one quick motion that I was scooping up Grandson One.
       To keep him from ingesting the filth.

For some reason the idea of cleaning up his little arms and legs was not such a big deal.
And the messy splashes on his clothes would only need a snappy turn in the washer.
But when water like that goes inside?
       Well, some things can't be undone.

Experiencing this reminded me of a poster I once saw.
It pictured a pair of hands filled with drippy, sloppy, gooey mud;
The hands sharing the mud with another pair of hands,
While another pair of clean hands sat in wait.
And a caption that read,
       "Gossip: Don't Pass it On".

I am not quite sure what it is about human nature that makes this such a difficult task.
For some reason we enjoy the dramatic and the fateful.
And love to exploit the ugly and the weak in others.
And so we share untruths, part truths, or misunderstood truths
In an effort to gain approval, attention, or false admiration. 
Or maybe even in an effort to make sense of things that make no sense.
But no matter the reason, 
       If you play in the mud you are going to get dirty.

I learned a lesson about this the hard way.
I was in High School
And my friend had temporarily left me behind to join a more popular group of friends.
One Friday night they were late to the football game.
I thoughtlessly made a false remark about where they might be. And what they might be doing. 
       That they shouldn't be doing.

And they never made it to the game.
Because instead of doing what I said they might be doing that they shouldn't be doing,
They were actually in a car accident.
No one was seriously injured.
Except for myself. And my friend...
       Because I had slandered her name.

I have never been able to forget that night.
And I have never been able to forget how I felt.
There was nothing acceptable, admirable, or respectable about what I had done.
The harsh reality was that I had been the one doing something that I should not have been doing.
And I felt slimy, dirty, and icky inside...
       Because I had played in the mud.

Over the years I have come to learn that everybody has their own Puddle of Mud.
Their own dramatic, fateful, ugly, and weak.
       And it can be very, very tempting to play.

But just like the other day, as I watched Grandson One jump, stamp, splash, and sip,
And just like the other High School day so long ago,
And regrettably, just like other days since then,
I must remember that if I play in the mud I'm going to get dirty.
       And some things can't be undone.

"Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, 

but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing in a tempting moment."

Benjamin Franklin

B is for Baby!!

And Babysitting.
And Busy.
And Breakfast.

If you've read my post from earlier this week you will know that I have been Babysitting Kid Two's Kid One. And if you're like me, trying to make sense of that at the end of a long day makes the head a little dizzy.
So I'll simplify.
I've been Babysitting Grandson One. Since Monday.

This has been FABULOUS! 
I promise you that there is not a cuter, funner, happier, goofier, or awesomer Grandson One out there!
I am also pretty sure that there is not a Busier Grandson One.
And by Busy, I mean, Constant. Motion.
As in I could not snap a-photo-that-did-not-contain-blur constant motion.
At least with the iPhone.

Exhibit A:

And all week long I remembered that I am older than 27.
Because this is how it went...

On Monday it was meeting for lunch to make the Grandson One hand-off.
He decided to show off his awesome dunking skills.
At the dining table.
By dunking the pepper shaker in my water.
And then laughing hysterically.
I'll admit it. I laughed, too.

Tuesday it was grocery shopping.
Where I remembered that there is no good place in a grocery store for a 17-month old Grandson One.
Because they really, really do not like shopping carts.
And they really, really do like gravity.
And stealthily grabbing and hiding surprises in the cart.

I also remembered that I used to have a 4-month old and a 17-month old that I would shop with.
At the same time.
Which explains a lot about my brain...
Hmm.

Breakfast on Wednesday looked like this:

Grandson One, on the counter, helping me with breakfast.
And by helping me with breakfast I mean playing with my spice jars...

And throwing them on the ground...
And opening them...
And emptying half a spice jar of Coriander seeds onto the countertops and floor.

(Guess what? The dog doesn't know what to do with Coriander seeds, either.)

You should know that I burned 4 pancakes that morning. A new record.

And the Thursday highlight?
It's a fun one...

Me and Grandson One.
In the local hardware store.
Not holding onto each other because he is independent like that.
I turn a corner. He does not.
He hangs back to find a row of glass light covers right within his little Grandson One reach.
I had no idea they were even there.

Until...

Yup.
A big glass light cover launched into the air.
Once upon a time it had been shaped like a globe.
Pretty sure he thought it was a ball.
But it didn't bounce.
Instead it was more like this...

***CRASH***

Amazing.

Grandson One was a little stunned. But did not cry.
I was a little embarrassed. But did not cry.
We just left the store.
As. Quickly. As. Possible.
Sorry. No picture.

(Gladly, the store guy who had to clean up the mess thought it was amazing, too. He even said how super cool the shattering glass sounded. I wonder if he really meant that or if he was just trying to be nice?)

By Thursday night I realized that I really had started the week with every intention of taking awesome photos of this kid while he was in my care.
By Thursday night I also realized that this was an impossibility without the help of an assistant.
Or two.
Maybe three.
Not to mention the brand new "boy mark" on his forehead from a poolside fall.
(Yes, I totally watched as this happened.)
And by Thursday night I also realized that I did not manage to pull my real camera out of its bag.
Not even One. Single. Time.
And I gained a new respect for Photog Moms everywhere.

So instead of really awesome photos, Friday morning we went to the park and I snapped these.
With my iPhone. Again.

Grandson One likes to swing...

And ride...

And slide...

And RUN!!

Away.

From me.

Friday afternoon we did this...

CHALK!!

And this...

Where Grandson One's favorite part was this...

Splash! Splash! Splash!!

It was a joyous week!
And we had to work hard to get it all in.
But we did.

*Happy, contended sigh*

Now it's almost time to start the drive to return Grandson One to his rightful owner.
I feel really sad about this. It's been great having the little Buddy around.
And I am going to miss his Busy little hands and feet.

Even though they kept me from a few things.
Like Blogging. Which also starts with a B.
And showering. Which does not.
Unless you "Bathe".