Edit my FB please

I've been self editing my Facebooking lately. It's not that I don't have the urge to write things. It's just I have to fight the urge to write really inappropriate things that maybe my old High School English teacher or father doesn't really need or want to know. Or anyone needs or wants to know for that matter.
"Can't wait to spend another day with my little boy" (read on a day where I am counting the minutes until bedtime) or "just took a 5 mile run" (read on a day where I've consumed a box and half of something that's surely not good for me or my thighs) posts have me really rethinking my 'status' box.
Social Media as a marketing tool I get and even as a way to be funny and irreverent but should the bragging be banned? Five years ago I had trouble deciding what to post considering my life was full of boy drama, friend issues, crisis, etc. Now instead of wanting to release all the fear and anxiety that being a parent brought, I want to breathe in every second of sweetness that my kiddo brings to me. And as much as I feared sharing my issues back then, I am equally afraid to share the Polyanna parent in me too, well maybe just on Facebook. Because frankly, it's annoying. It's annoying to hear someone complain too much about their kids and it's equally annoying to hear someone brag too much about their kids. Therefore, I've come to the conclusion that maybe I should just stop talking about my kid. But I can't. It's simply too big a love to shut my mouth. The same way I nauseated everyone of my friends after I first met my Rog. Somewhere along the way, I stopped. And I guess, life eventually did balance out: I stopped watching football with him and he stopped watching Nancy Grace with me; although we do come find each other on commercial breaks for a chat. (or a "can you please put your socks away?")
So, for now, I'm holding back on the 'ultra-annoying FB-look at me' posts. Of course, I have to sprinkle my page with the occasional kid photo and a "Laramie Steward is so hungover" just because I'm bored and have trouble showing restraint.

Who are we???

I don't understand where Americans have gone. I guess when people are scared, many put themselves ahead of others. Thank God we have some heroes out there and that some of us give a damn about others. I wrote a paper about property theory and even I thought I was in for a boring few weeks. Come to find out not too long ago we had a balance between three interest groups — businesses, unions and government. And our political decisions were generally worked out between the first two with government serving as referee. Welcome Reagan and things began to change. He cut back on regulation. Bush cut taxes mostly for the rich. I think it was David Hume who noted that humans fall along a spectrum ranging from those who really care about others to those who are happy to kill — directly or indirectly — to make greedy pay offs to themselves.Most of us know both types and those ranging between them who can turn mean when scared, Sarah Palins hunting buddies, ugh!!! I feel terrible at what is going on with US today . Even racism is returning. Our treatment of teachers and nurses is a disgrace ! Especially when we waste money on pointless war!

“I cannot believe that war is the best solution. No one won the last war and no one will win the next.”

Eleanor Roosevelt quotes

Death... as a blog topic... is hard to write about. But as I recall losing my Grandma Campbell in April and really regretting not being there when my Granny Lena passed in 2003 I get upset and pretty emotional...

The short story? My grandmother just turned 87 Jan of 2010 and had always been strong. But a few years back... she had a stroke. It was just a year after that she broker her shoulder and we knew then, it was only a matter of time. I hated to watch it happen. Selfishly I would say it was exhausting. Yet I felt so much... and learned so much. My Mom and I get to think about the old times... and reminisce.
I wish I had the strength to be there for those at their end.
Did you know hearing is the last sense to go? I remember laying on my Grandmother Campells bed, stroking her face with my sons lovey. I knew we were close to goodbye but knew she was nervous about meeting the Lord and all that happens in the afterlife so I did my best to comfort her and just share my love. It was a struggle. Letting go is hard.
Then... the body has to have closure in two different ways. The first, is physical. I think she was already past that. The signs I had been taught were there... and it's strangely amazing to watch what happened to the human life form.
The second is emotional. This is where I think my Grandmother was not finished. Books say many times even if the body is ready let go, the mind and heart are not. We then hang on to work out emotions in our head. My Mom unselfishly agreed that the idea of her trying to get there after she was ready to go was actually preventing her from letting go.
Reality was setting in, We just wanted her to know we love her. We wanted her to know that we were happy, healthy, and will keep her alive in memory and toast to her life ALWAYS . My family on both sides has always chosen a celebration of life... and we will do so with her as well.

Now after literally staring death in the face... scary... eerie... amazing.... and real. It made me think about things I have done... and what would happen if I went tomorrow. It makes me want to continue to be more aware of my surroundings... share time with close ones... and live life to the fullest. But that is hard sometimes. So many things in life, the big things, can be a struggle and no one is constantly happy. I guess it's more so letting these things roll off our backs instead of dwelling. And that's my challenge.

As hard as all this is... I'm glad I have come to see the full circle. I learned a lot. And although my Gradmother will be forever with our Lord I got to say goodbye.
I guess my moral of the story is... let things out and don't hold them in, express your love, treat others well, pick your battles wisely, and be prepared - for anything could happen tomorrow. Wouldn't you agree?

Moving on...

I have come to another crossroads in my life where I had to make a fight or flight decision with one of my best friends.

As hard as this is to let go and allow myself to give up the fight (for “saving” the friendship), I am doing this for me. I spent a lot of energy the past few months realizing that no matter how much I want this friendship to work, and how much I have to offer…this is not a good match. We are too different and that the same ole drama will keep happening over and over. The intensity will always be a shadow of the friendship and one that will keep repeating the same hurts, misunderstandings, and judgments over and over. no matter how much WE try….I will never be considerate enough for her….and she will never stop judging me for not being who she thinks I should be. As much as I want to embrace, recognize, and respect our differences…the intense drama over them just won’t ever go away. It’s hard to be on the outside looking in and seeing this…because I do love this person, but I’ve come to recognize this relationship with varying expectations is unhealthy for both of us.

So I’m letting go.

This is a conscious decision we both made independently without a discussion. I’m sad for the loss,

Right now in spite of the negative emotions, I am trying to feel gratitude for what I did have in the friendship. Of course the pain is close behind trying to push any love and joy away and scream “Look at me!” But if I can consciously see the pain and move through it by recognizing some gratitude and lessons, I will be able to move forward. I will take away from this experience that I do want to continue to strive to be a compassionate, loving, thoughtful, joyful, caring person….but I cannot sacrifice who I am for another. I do feel this is what I allowed with this friend and the more I gave of myself, the higher the bar of expectation was raised by her and it was to a height that I couldn’t possibly achieve…no matter how much I intended on doing so.Ultimately there is a lot I have learned from the loss of this friendship.

Before I was Scouts Mom I was many things.

A collector of vintage jewels . A connoisseur of yummy sushi. An organizer of junk drawers. A dog walker and a gardener. A coupon clipper and a bubble bath taker. A fashionista and a martini drinker. A friend and a foe. A daughter, a lover, an independent woman.
In our lives we expand until we almost explode from all the shapes we take. Changing and growing and BECOMING, adding to our list of shortcomings, belongings and hobbies and personalities. Some we are more proud of than others. Some lead us to our next. Some teach us and prepare us for our future, for taking on yet another hat to wear or burden to bear. They shape our subconscious that later guides us to make life changing decisions.

While they may have led me to the right path, none of these things could truly prepare me for the maniacal journey that is being SCOUTS MOM.
So what did prepare me?

I am a caretaker for three amazing rescue dogs.

I love and treasure a cat who is deaf and declawed, not to mention 12 years old~

Most importantly, I was taught the meaning of the word unconditional (Thanks Mom and Dad.)

My Moms unconditional love for all things helpless helped my heart to be SCOUTS mother. She opened it up wide and tall. I was smacked in the face with a love so deep it was incomprehensible. Indescribable. I learned to love something so much it did not matter if it fit in or if the whole world forgot it existed. She knew they mattered. I learned to love in spite of imperfections.

My Dad told me about looking past physical imperfections. My Grandfather Tracy was 5'3 with one leg (train jumping in Pine Bluffs Wyoming @ age 6 can cause problems). As a kid my Dad longed to park in the handicap spot but his father wouldn't use it. It was a spot for people who were handicap. I am so grateful to have experienced a love like this before becoming a parent so I could know what it is to nurture. To know that I have the capability to love with an honest, open heart no matter the circumstances and to know what it is like to truly give myself over to that crazy little thing called (unconditional) love. "Oh BABY SCOUT!" LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!

The eyes of love are everywhere, can be everywhere, could be everywhere. And when you look at the world with the eyes of love, the world looks so different, doesn’t it? And so often we forget that it is as simple as a kind word, a gentle look, a smile for the stranger standing next to you in line.Someone in my my ANIMAL RESCUE WORLD (Millions of amazing dogs die yearly because people dont spay or neuter) a link to this song today, and I’ve listened to it over and over and over this morning. Where is the love? It is in you! “Where is the Love” by the Black Eyed Peas

Share the love today…

Honestly, through the news media, tv and radio, all I hear these days is DIVORCE. And there's so many ending because of infidelity. What's with it ? What happened to marriage that lasts "til death do us part? " Does it even exist anymore? My parents divorced when I was a young ....so was I destined to be in a failed marriage? I am wondering because I have been through one. Do we learn from our parents? Or is it because of society being more accepting of failed marriages? Do we often jump into marriage before we are actually know what it entails? YIKES

Really? Lets just call it conditional!

Ever pondered definition of unconditional love? Ever ask around for friends definition of unconditional love? I have and it varies from people to people.
If the ideology and definition for unconditional love is so PERFECT?RIGHT? JUST? why does it differ? Love is a wonderful thing. Opening up your heart and loving without asking for something in return is too ideal right? I agree and respect that everyone has different definitions of love, sacrifice, etc. But I feel it's almost like a lot of people spend too much time defining and talking about what these are instead of just doing it. If we could just love and give from our hearts, so what if we have expectations and "conditions"? We are all humans, we're not perfect, it's only in an ideal world that we have "unconditional" love. In the strictest sense of the word, even parental love is conditional. But is such love a "lesser" kind of love? Is doing 100 loving and giving acts that are "conditional" less than 1 act of "unconditional" love? Just because someone doesn't love you the way you have defined love, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. Will you reject love (from others or even yourself) if it doesn't match up to your definition? Accept love for what it is, not for what it could be or what it means....

The Here and Now

i'm thankful for the freedom to be content exactly where i am. i'm not bound to the wants, the what-ifs and the wouldn't-that-be-nice's. that even if they come to mind (or heart) i have the power to realize that, while maybe those things may come to me at some

point, i am standing right in the middle of Gods will for me.

i may feel ready for Roger to be back working in Dallas with us, but i'm thankful for

his job out of town that has provided for us while some pray for any sort of job.

i may want to live down the street from my mom or dad (somedays), be in a 3rd world country passing out the only meal a child may get that week, or rescuing every animal abused or neglected but i have to trust that now is not the time.

i may want a bigger house with more rooms and an amazing playroom, but i need to

remember that it is the feelings in a house that make someone welcome, not the size.

i may long for (a little) more time to myself at the end of the night, but i need to be mindful of
how quickly Scout will grow up.

i'm learning more every day to fully embrace exactly where i am.

even the obstacles can be fun sometimes.

What does iIT mean?

IT means that as much as i want to buckle him in the highchair sometimes

and hurriedly get some things done,

the nug often roams and explores the kitchen beneath me.

SS will pull every towel & bib that we own out of the drawer.

IT always means that i have a lot of damage control to do at nap time and late at night.

i hope IT also means that i have a child who knows how valued he is right now.

that he knows that learning, exploring and being is his "job" right now.

that HE knows that none of the stuff is more important than

guiding & loving his little heart i could look at today and say that we just made soup,

but i think we did much more.

Lazy Saturday morning, kinda

we've had a lazy, happy saturday .

i keep meaning to be folding the 2 loads of clean laundry sitting here,

but get distracted by breaks to watch Stout Scout build the same block tower over and over or

clean up everysinglething this has dragged out from the numerous toy boxes.

then, i download photos and briefly chat with my online friends about how we never got up this early in our former

lives. of course, i need another coffee by now.

i go back to fold laundry, but now SS is ready for a nap.

fresh diaper, lotion, a little rock and off to bed.

that means Kombucha and quiet time for me

i finally get to clean up the smashed blueberries from this morning

and pick up the random wonder pet, microphone & baseball bat laying around.

i feel the need to sit now & go back to photos as a break, but

i haven't done what i set out to do at all.

i'm okay with that. that is totally my life & that's what we do as moms, isn't it?

take it as it comes and deal with it.

it's not always as planned, but it's happy.

[i am considering taking that word 'lazy' out of the first sentence though.]

Pretty sad, I must say.

I need six hours. In those six hours I would...

Get waxed.
Finishing editing my case notes for my my SOD gig.
Send off Scout's school paperwork.
Make sure that I sent off MDO tuition
Organize my calendar
Get caught up on blogs.
Write a real blog that is not a list.
Clean out my email.
Clean out my blog email.
Figure out what Twitter is all about.
Figure out a business proposal w/ Stella and Dor
Floss well.
Read the five unread magazines by my bed.
Call my long lost friends.
Research what do with the remaining veggies on my counter-top.
What kind of world do I live in that the most relaxing event of my life is a pretend 6 hours?

Am I really in my third decade?

This is one of those weeks that it takes everything I have to be very intentional about my day, making sure I balance the work with the play. Errands. Broken dishwasher. Man, did i underestimate the time a dishwasher saves me.

A husband gone for work 24/7 5 days a week so that I can stay home with Scout. Time with friends. Time to sit on the floor and put puzzles together.

Honestly, it is weeks like this that i want to bury my face in my pillow and sleep all day!

I want everything done, but i can't believe that it is ME that is supposed to do it.

I am a procrastinator by nature. I think i'm probably sloppy by nature.

and a lot of times, i'd love someone else to do the hard work for me. Then I remember i'm grown up. When did this happen?

Although I still love some appreciation, I'm doing it. I am being a grown up.

Sometimes I let Scout have blueberries and peanut butter for breakfast, lunch,

and dinner. He loves to around the dressing room angering others,

carry plastic bottles of water, spilling as he goes (it does not stain.)

At the end of the night I put the little guy to bed, enjoy a glass of wine and Nancy Grace and I am proud & excited about my life and my job as Scouts Mom and Rogers wife. I kinda like this grown up gig!

Scout and I have our comfy clothes on tonight. i don't get many things done in a day. Yesterday, we did grocery shopping. i kid you not that it took close to 2hours from leaving the house to all groceries put away.But, I try my very hardest to involve Scout. Yesterday that meant that an orange rolls across the whole produce section as it misses being THROWN into the bag. and it means that I laugh and tell Scout, "try again. gentle this time."even despite the dirty looks from the man that almost tripped over the orange.The lady that smiled at Scout and winked at me trumped him anyway.

Bye Bye Baby

Everyday this rambunctious little boy who is full of

throwing blocks, giggling & dancing like a wild chicken slowly waddles up to me. He tugs on my shirt and we sit on the floor. I marvel at the fact that he loves me, trusts me, enough to just be. Today I felt like Scout woke up from his nap a true toddler . Reading a book waiting for me to come in. Sure he has been toddling around for months, but

I think it was that he was so intent on his book that when he looked up that sealed the deal. There goes Baby Scout.

Full Blown Toddler : ( h in you.

The trusting casual way a tiny hand, slipped into a larger one -cracked and worn – cam even the iciest of hearts.

Children are our miracles we are blessed with every day.There’s something about the love of a child. Something in the way that eyes light up, when Daddy enters a room. In soft peaceful breath on Mummy’s breast when drifting off to dreamland. Words unspoken that whisper their faith in you.

The trusting casual way a tiny hand, slipped into a larger one -cracked and worn – can melt away the years of worry and warm even the iciest of hearts.

Children are our miracles we are blessed with every

I'm 30 years old and have a child, yet somehow "mom" seems like a bit of a foreign concept to me.i mean, i do mom. sometimes i even do mom pretty well, but i honestly forget that i have to be so grown up sometimes.
i remember so freshly some of the things about my mom that i'm beginning to see our Scout remembering.
i remember how young & pretty she was when she'd pick me up from her 5 hours off a week when I was at MDO . i remember how she never yelled. not once. i remember a scene at the grocery store that i basically just had with Scout.it involved almost swatting him for screaming when i took the bleach out of his hand.[and how it sometimes catches you off guard.]i remember her filling up an inflatabl pool in the summer & sunbathing in it.i remember how i spoke to her was breaking her heart, but she was the person who i could trust would always love me anyway.i'm so very thankful for the chance to be mom to Scout/ i'm so thankful that he gets to have my mom Grandma Vicki.it is a surprisingly wonderful feeling to have a part of your heartwalking around separate from you.i pray i can do this amazing little man justice.that he knows... how loved he is.how treasured he is.how he has a great plan that he was made forin His image.

Sorry I’ve been mostly MIA from the blog for a bit. A friend has visited, We went to Florida and Scout is a busy body all of a sudden and I feel I am always off trying to entertain him (which is kind of an exhausting task, I won’t lie).

So, last night I went to the gym. Nothing groundbreaking there. However, I had several thoughts as I ran in place on a moving conveyor belt. Here are some of them.

• Do other people experience this? It seems like every time I go to the gym, there are a couple of people who are always there. It seems impossible that we have the same exact schedule. These people are ALWAYS at the gym!! One of them is the cutest old man who comes to the Zumba class I do. I love that he’s not embarrassed to go to an overwhelmingly female class. There is another woman who is about 45-50 I’d guess, tanned to the max, definitely has breast implants, and always wears full makeup and has her hair done. She also always wears the same outfit.
• There is a woman who I see running on the treadmill almost every time I go. She is a beast. Not in the physical sense, she’s a small woman, but holy shit. She runs around a 7:20 minute mile. That is fast!!! What kills me though is her running posture. She runs with her arms bent at her sides like a velociraptor. I made fun of her in my head at first until I realized she ran 6 miles in like 43 minutes and was kicking my ass on the treadmill.I particularly enjoyed last night looking over and seeing a guy going to town on a climbing machine. The machine is right next to a mirrored wall and he was watching himself with such pride. He was staring at himself and smiling. I loved it. Then he caught me looking at him and that was an awkward moment.
• I like when someone gets on the treadmill around the same time as me and starts running. It sounds weird perhaps but it gives me motivation. If I’m struggling but they’re still next to me running, I don’t want to quit. It’s like they’re pushing me to keep going. Last night the guy next to me got off and I still had another mile to go!! Asshole. (Just kidding).

Sunday, the guy I dated 5 years got married. I’ve been thinking about it and how I feel about it. I’m not sad. I’m….incredulous? Confused, perhaps? I am married and happy, for the most part :) Long ago I wrote about letting go of the hurt and just wishing him well. I still feel those things. I guess I am just kind of mad that we never had a conversation about the way it ended when it really finally did end. He could’ve gone out not looking like such an asshole but he didn’t. It should’ve been over when he told me about the other girl he had "coffee" with (who, no, is not the girl he married today). However, he kept texting and calling and confusing me. I almost missed out on marrying my current husband because of this clown. I was delusional for awhile and thought somehow it was going to work out. I think if I had been strong enough, it would’ve been best to cut him out completely, but I didn’t feel like I could. It took him moving to Texas trying to work "us" out. They got married Sunday evening and he already changed it on facebook. That’s the world we live in, I guess. In a way, I’m glad this happened. It closes a chapter for me forever. I can look back at what we had as a complete and finished memory. We won’t be making any more together.

I’m really going to try to resolve to focus on myself. That sounds cliche, perhaps, but I think for the best. There is a lot I want to accomplish. I want to continue to make my life fuller. I want to keep making Scout and Roger happy and happier. I want to meet people and make more REAL friend. I want to keep working to find contentment in the present. Sometimes I think I just get lonely or maybe bored. Such is life.

This may be the most boring post I’ve ever written. Sorry dudes. I have something I’m thinking about writing later. Maybe it’ll be a little more riveting.

We've done it! We've all survived our first year together.

Today is my son's first birthday and it's been quite a year. This may sound like a cliche, but it really is amazing how much a little person develops over the course of a year. When i look back at his birth photos I can hardly believe that it's the same kid here have now. He hasn't been out of my sight so I am pretty sure he is mine! I never imagined loving someone more than my dog Alot, but I do. Alto will forever be in my heart but Scout has formed this amazing new "area" in me...

Lessons I have learned from Scout

Playing is work. Approach your downtime with all the seriousness us girls use when selecting the perfect show!~ Those little people make us mad when they wont fly that plane :)

Seeing a thunderstorm roll in is better than watching Wonder Pets. And rain isn't something to cry about but enjoy!

Sometimes it's best to be completely blunt with people, as you used to be with relatives who wanted you to hug or kiss them even thought they had forgot to visit you for the past 6 months!

Treasure Island, Dracula: The best books are consumed after dark with a flashlight. thanks DADA, he decided this was important

Asking is how you figure things out. Lots and lots of questions.
Love. Love everyone and everything like you love Molly and Momma :)

parents

Growing up I had a mental file going where I would regularly store away pieces of information for later in life when I would surely need it.
I titled this file
“Ways I won’t be like my mother”
And when I was ten I filed things away like
“I will never make my kids make their bed”
and
“if my kid wants to have her whole class over for a sleepover, I will let him. And I’ll even order pizza”
And when I was in junior high I added to it
“I will buy my kid expensive name brand clothes because if she is popular they will be happy”
and
“13 is not too young for a boyfriend”

And in highschool
“If she wants to pierce her naval why should I stand in the way of personal expression”
and
“It is way too embarrassing to call my childs friends and ask if their parents will be home. I will just trust her/him.”
And in college
“Cs aren’t so bad. At least it is passing.”
and
“Padre is the perfect location for Spring Break”
And then I got married.
And I still filed away a few thoughts.
“like he can get his own damn beer”
and
“my husband better not talk to me like that and hopefully he can get his clothes to a washing machine”
But a few good ones slipped in too!
my mom has an amazing heart and my dad is an amazing listener and advice "giver."
And so occasionally I would call and ask them something simple like
What my mom puts in her potato salad.
What my dad thinks about the latest political uproar.
and a new mental file started to form.
“Things my parent knows that I don’t”
And I had to start cleaning out the old file a bit…because maybe a 13 year old doesn’t need $150.00 jeans or to be trusted completely.
And then I became a mother.
And I realized that I had an awful lot to learn.
And how glad I am that I have 2 very special someones to ask
when I want to know how to handle a situation without overreacting
or when I need someone to listen to me go on and on about what Scout did today.
or how to get my cholesterol down
or how to disagree without hurting someone who has a different opinion.

Basically how to handle the BIG stuff.

Let’s just say that the second file has grown a lot fatter than the first.

Friends fighting?

Recently I had a friend disappoint me.
I didn’t tell them.
And I didn’t write about it when it happened.
Instead I seethed a little and got angrier and slightly resentful and finally dumped it on my husband.
(who had some great advice that will come later)
And. I have hesitated to write this piece because a lot of my real life friends read this.
Maybe even the one I’m writing about. Maybe not. Actually I’m not really sure.
And to be honest the best pace to work this out would be with them.
Just them.
And not on line.
But.
It’s not really about them. It’s more about me. And I don’t think there is so much to work out anyways.
So, if you are my real life friend and are reading this and wondering, hesitantly or fearfully if this is about you.
It might be.
But it probably isn’t.
And again. Even if it is. It’s not REALLY about you.
And if it isn’t. It could be. If we have been friends for more than five minutes, we have probably had a moment like this.
So, back to me venting to my husband.
I forced him to listen to my girl woes and what I thought were very valid complaints.
To which he said,
“So. Why are you mad? That is what I'd expect. Some of it is what I would do. Why are you expecting something else.”
And I got a little frustrated because really I was just hoping he would agree. Be on my team and tell me how right I was rather than speaking some truth.
And he was right.
And I had a hard time swallowing it.
And sure, I have friends that I love even though they are always late or have a short temper or are high strung, or are more conservative, or are more liberal or occasionally flighty. And it doesn’t bother me. It is just part of who they are and who I love.
And they manage to love me despite of
My insensitive. my constant interruptions. my obnoxious. my rantings. my strong opinions. my lack of strong opinions. my habit of eating off their plate, my loose lips…..and probably a hundred other more things. Really, I totally get the good end of the deal.

And I’m sure I’ve hurt feelings or said dumb things or dominated conversations that I shouldn’t have. And occasionally I have even apologized for it.
But mostly I haven’t. And they are my friend anyways.
And so my friend didn’t really disappoint me.
Or hurt my feelings.
Instead. Some girl I made up did.
My friend was still there. Doing all the things that I love about her.
And I decided that maybe my expectations. The false ones I made up.
Should go

The Sunrise

I don't think I have every really seen one. On purpose at least. Maybe some glipses on the way to work or heading in from a late night, but I have never just gotten out of bed early for the pure intent on watching the sun rise. It is worth it I hear, and I felt like there would be no better place to witness one than my last morning in Mexico. I had this romanticized picture of me and Roger with a cup of coffee, talking to God and snapping the kind of photos that belonged on the front of a postcard.
So I got up at 5:30. a.m. Without the help of an alarm clock or a screaming Scout. I just woke up. I attempted breifly to go back to sleep, but then felt an urging to get out of bed and make my way down to the beach. This was going to be that moment.
I told Rog where I was going so he wouldn't worry and before he rolled over and went back to sleep he warned me that the sun rose on the side of the hotel......not the beach and that I probably wouldn't be able to see much. I said I wanted to watch it anyways. I figured it would still be beautiful and amazing through the palm trees instead of over the ocean. I just knew that God had nudged me out of bed and had something beautiful and special to show me.
So me and my trusty camera headed to the beach and I waited for God to start the show.
And I waited. Until it really wasn't dark anymore.
There were no pinks or oranges in the sky. Things just eventually got brighter. The sky actually looked kind of gray and dreary. This was not the kind of sunrise I had envisioned. Surely, the sun was going to sneak over the trees any second now and take my breath away.
Someone started to set out the coffee and someone else started to rake the sand. Morning had come without the kind of magical display I had hoped for.
The sky did not turn any brilliant shades. I did not snap any pictures.
As the darkness disapeared I couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed and wonder that maybe I should have just stayed in bed.
So I sat there on my rock on a white sandy beach with crystal clear water crashing at my feet and birds chirping and wondered why God had so clearly pulled me out of bed to see a nothing special sun rise.
And then the irony hit me.
Like a giant wave and took my breath away.
I was sitting in the middle of paradise, looking, unsuccessfully for God's beauty.
When all along I had been sitting smack dab in the middle of it.
God woke me up, not to show me a beautiful sun rise but to show me what was already there. To see the beauty in that. Not to miss the pink petals, or the turquoise water, or the shells growing heavy in my pockets.
That sometimes I am in the middle of paradise and missing the absoulte beauty that surrounds me. And not just on the beach but...
At home on the floor playing with my Scout
Or on the patio
Or at dinner with a friend.
And that I need to open up my eyes and soak all that in, rather than looking out on the horizon for more.

blue

There are some moments that might seem as though they never happened in the first place. A minute, an hour, a day – a span of time – where you wish you could have stepped out of yourself to view it from the outside. It was just that beautiful. Ahhh, the moment I met Baby Scout, holding my Granny's hand as she met God, Saratoga over Labor Day weekend 2004, we were hiking in a snow storm and put on our swimsuits and waded in the most beautiful lake I have ever seen. We were freezing but it was one of the happiest moments of my life. Running the Carlsbad half-marathon with D in 2002. We couldn't believe we finished, after the night before. We had slept on the sand and fallen asleep with a box of wine and a "ghetto-blaster" blaring Billy Joel's Piano Man album. We woke up with stiff necks and headaches but what a beautiful morning on the coast~ One more would be Buffalo Wyoming. I will always remember that town, that summer, that person I was with, and sitting in those rocking chairs on Main street thinking "it can't get much better than this." If you pay close enough attention, sometimes you actually realize, just know, in the middle of one of those beautiful moments that you're part of a solitary occurrence, mitigated by time, place and coincidence. By fate. A first breath, a first kiss, last kiss, goodbye, a first time you realize the world actually can be beautiful and perfect, if only for that one moment. And you also know it's not going to happen just that way ever again. So your heart takes a snapshot, if you give pause to let it. And then you will always rememberexactly the way the sunlight fell, or a specific shade of blue in the ocean, or the hum of the cars or the smell of fresh rain falling on a summer afternoon in Wyoming. Or the details of someone else's skin. The picture, the details are yours to keep, for when alone in darkness and blues are blacks, and the cars drive you crazy with their constant buzzing, and it seems you've lost your sense of smell. And you miss the details of someone else's skin.What is most intriguing about these snapshots is how easily they can provide a measure of comfort as well as one of regret -- of lost opportunities, broken connections and irretrievable time. I lost a love and had to remember to breathe thinking my life was over and I would never be able to love like that again. Then I unexpectedly fell in love again and recognized it the very moment that we first kissed and exhaled a sigh – one that was somehow left with my heart attached to it. I did it again and I was ok. Love. And I remember stopping to take a picture, knowing all too well that it was not to happen exactly that way ever again. It was overwhelming and tender and mournful. If I had to explain, even to myself, how I felt at those moments, it could take a thousand words or it could take very few. A name. A date. A song. The color blue. The word inevitable. Life may not be replete with the moments that pause your soul, the vivid memories of which cause your heart beat differently, or make it hard to swallow. And all the better. Much of the beauty of those moments lies in their rarity -- in the awe of being in the right place, at the right time, a partaker in coincidence. And in finding a reason to believe in fate.

It Happens

Maybe its human nature to feel like someone else has it better than you do. Someone else has more shoes, a great husband, a better body, whatever. It's easy to covet that thing which you perceive you do not have. In my case, it was a relationship. I don't know anyone who has a relationship precisely like the one I envision myself in, but that didn't stop me from wanting the companionship they have. He called me the other day asking me to delete MY blogs because they were causing him discord! HA! Does he not remember why we got to this place and why all I could do was offer him an occasional week night because I was so hurt over the past. I needed time to forgive while I decided what really mattered! Just as I assume he might have wanted! Instead he tried to move on while keeping me on the side, whatever!!! Now what I feel and what really happened is suddenly an issue? I have been honest with everyone about my chaso....Talk to anyone who knows me, that is what pisses me off! Not to mention it's totally gross to be double dipping and it hurts people so..for a day or two I think about what I want and seek answers around me....
I started really noticing that I'm the only one of my friends without an"other." I wondered if I would enjoy whatever I happened to be doing-watching a movie, eating dinner, hiking- a bit better if I had someone I really dug to experience it with me. Then I got the phone call. "Lar, I dunno what to do! I can't get my mind off of him! I know it's completely wrong and f-ed up, because he's my on and off and on again but I can't help it-I want him!" Oh no, I thought, he is a dork! I tried to offer some perspective, asking her if she thought it would be worth it to act on her feelings. Of course the obvious answer is no, but the heart has a funny way of justifying the way it feels. Why do you think you have this huge crush on this guy who is so wrong for you I asked her. She didn't know. Great!

A few days later I got an almost cryptic email from another dear friend canceling some plans we had arranged weeks before. She offered no explanation and, as that was out of character for her, I was concerned that something was wrong. She then emailed me a very thorough description of exactly what was wrong. Her husband is a cop and when he still wasn't home three hours after his shift ended, she began to worry – for obvious reasons. She called the station and he wasn't there. Turns out he was at the hospital visiting some female patient that I assume he rescued in an emergency. She had no idea about this person and no idea of his plans to visit her. She thought she may be over-reacting until she came across an extremely flirty (the word naked was used) email correspondence they were having, clearly, behind her back. Yet another couple I had faith in. They have this beautiful baby, this beautiful house, they're both good people. How could it go so awry? She's since packed up her baby and her bags and moved in with family- 1,000 miles away. I miss her and this sucks

There are countless stories I could share like these, but I think I may be tempted to commit confidentiality violations if I continue! Joking, of course. I'm not trying to make the case that all relationships are doomed. I simply refuse to believe that. What I realized, though, witnessing the suffering of ones I love is that they certainly DO NOT have it any better than me because they have someone to come home to. Hearing these plights made me feel deeply grateful that the only person's crap I need to deal with right now is my own. So, instead of toying with the notion that someone else has greener grass than I do, I've come to learn that the grass does not get any greener than where I'm standing! And, let me say, it's exceedingly liberating!

Are we there yet? Maybe never?

I think abouth when I used to be more open, less guarded...a little more joyful, even. But, perhaps that's just nostalgia talking.

"When did life get so hard?"

He asked me this a couple of weeks ago. It was a rhetorical question, but I'd wished I'd had an answer, because maybe then I'd have a better sense of how to go about things.

I'm not the sort of person who's never satisfied with what she's got, who's always wanting more, but lately there's an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that won't be filled.

I want what we all want. A love story of my own (we are sorta there right R????) Not an ideal love, even just the way we are is ok. Just someone to love, who will love me well, and fiercely, sometimes. Fiercely enough to stay.

The thing is...I know that if this sort of love knocked on my door a few months ago I wouldnt have been there....Am I there now? Are we there? I'm not in the place to entertain this right at the moment.....

Ah well...

All in good time.

Is it right?

I have run into a few situations, very recent, where I have been put in a position to make some tough calls. People, things, situations, etc. have come up where I have had the opportunity to "skate" around something I'd rather not even be in a "rink" with or; just totally choose not to put my skates on and go shoe shopping instead! Life is tough from time to time but I really believe It's easier to be yourself than pretending to be someone you are not. I mean why on Earth should we fake something we don't feel. The caveat to this is that I am starting to feel
it's not acceptable socially to be as clear, blunt, and upfront as I tend to be. Should I care? I mean really. Don't buy it if you won't "own" it right? Or wrong?

it is what it is

Everything reverts to numbers.....shapes, sizes, circles and squares...hey, you even have to have the right numbers to win the lottery! Well, also included in this, I'm afraid, is that as the population of the planet increases, so do the value of its numbers decrease. Is the value of family, work, and play worth more today than say ten years ago? Perhaps not.

We all have alot to pack into twenty-four fours a day....some are more successful then others, but boy, I don't know about you, but for me at the end of each day I still wish I had another two or three hours of extra time. After awhile its easy to feel like a machine punching a time clock, asking yourself, "What's it all about?" The search for meaning in life, for many, comes up empty, until one day a person decides that it's time to embark upon a journey to find what this place called earth is all about....and why we are here. As a collective human family, the answers can come easily...but the individual stories....ah.....therein lies the search that many at some point in their lives find themselves on. That's when we realize we are more than just a number......a sea of faces, where each one has its own story that cries to be heard.

I found, for myself, that I could only go so far until I had to seek out the meaning for my life. Finding inner value became a necessity. I refused to believe that my happiness could only be based upon material things, which I found very temporary, until one day I sat down in a chair, looked up, and said "Please God, help me find the answers." Not until that moment did I feel myself connected with my spiritual essence. I've always looked upon myself as a realist....not somebody who just believes for the sake of believing. I search for evidence. Today as I look around this world I have to believe that there is a reason for everything. I wasn't born to go to school, find a job, make money, retire, and drop dead. Somewhere in-between all of this is Life. We all have a Life.....a story to pass along.

This globe that we live on spirals through space in a synchronized order with our solar system....mathematics in play, numbers all working together to maintain some kind of order....as one thing swings out, eventually it swings back....the pendulum of Time and Space. Each second has its value, and so does each Life.

Foie Gras, I think not!

Imagine having a pipe rammed down your throat, while large amount of food were pumped down your airway. Choking, gasping for air, your tongue doesn't even get to taste and find out what's going in to your stomach.

This is what mankind are doing to some poor creatures just so that people get to eat what they want. Just because the Foie Gras recipe requires a nicely fattened duck or goose liver. We think its our right to do as we see fit, for our own gains and pleasure. What about animal rights? What about their suffering?

I urge all to spare a thought for these animals, abstain from food such as shark's fin, drunken prawns, foie gras, dog meat, where the animals have to suffer miserably at mankind's hands before being slaughtered and served on the table.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYql8T57Wd4

Bumps and Bruises

I bruise forgetfully.

No, that’s not a typo. I have a friend who bruises super easily, (in college, we used to flick her arms just to see how fast the bruise would come up. . . .we were weird that way.) but that’s not my thing.

See, I end up with bruises and have no idea where they came from.

Usually they’re on my legs and I just figure that I walked into something (usually the sharp edge of my bed/table/anything) and "walked it off."

But today I woke up with this massive bruise on my hand.

Make an "L" shape with your thumb and first finger, then draw a straight line down both. See where those lines converge? That’s where my big ol nasty bruise is. And a bump. That I have no idea how I got.

Really, you’d think that something that made a bruise that big and left a lump would be something you’d remember, no?

My best guess is that I’m either so clumsy that I don’t notice all the bazillions of times I run into things, or I’m running into things at work and pretending it didn’t happen so as not to draw attention to my lack of co-ordination.

Or something.

It’s just so weird. I can never remember the incident that gave me the bruise. Maybe I should start a diary:

Saturday, 4pm: ran into table while reading book on way to couch. Left shin..

Morals in the mirror

Over the past couple of months, I've taken a good look at myself, and realized that I'm not too thrilled with what I see. I've become discouraged with the blatant fact that I cannot become a more moral person by mere effort. If I look hard enough at my motivations for doing good things, I begin to see I have partial selfish reasons for doing some of them.

More recently, I think I've discovered something that has really helped me, and I thought I'd share it with everyone out there who struggles with being a moral person and has decided to devote their life to doing what is right. You know who you are, and you know what I mean by being "moral." To put others first in your priorities, to love without expecting to be loved in return, to not steal, lie, wish harm to others, etc. We have a desire to leave our "bit" of influences in better shape then if we were never around to influence them. In fact, we have decided that being moral and following a moral code is more important than anything else - it is a cause that drives our lives as we sit in the passenger seat.

You may be like me, though, and realize that you are really blowing it. You have too many mixed motives for the moral things you do, much less the things you do that you know aren't moral. I feel most days like I am more driven by pride and selfishness to do moral things then I am by the good side of me who desires to do them for no other reason then the fact that they are the right things to do, and to do what is right is a joy to the core of who I am.

So recently, I stumbled across a truth that has really helped me. My method of moral improvement has been an act of willpower that involved focusing like crazy on my faults and trying to improve. I have come to the conclusion that this does not work. I decided to give this up and instead focus on the well being of everyone around me. I started praying more and thinking about what I can do for the people in my life and how I can be of more help to them in a tangible way. I began to try to see myself as a "helper" rather than as an independent, self-centered results-driven person looking out for his own best interest and reputation.

And I think that is a key to being moral. The moral person has devoted themselves to the moral life, and the moral life is about giving up a self-focused, self-directed life where they are in charge. Others are more important. I have found that many of my issues of pride, arrogance, and selfishness have melted away or have at least lost their intensity while I have begun to slowly adopt this new perspective.

So for those of you who want to be moral but who look inside and don't like what they see there, become a servant. Instead of focusing so much on your own faults, focus on how to use your life to enrich and change the lives of others. Something fundamental changes when you start walking down this road. I may be crazy, but I'd say give it a try

Life is constantly throwing me a curve ball, or maybe I just think that sometimes. I guess we all have good days and bad ones too. For so many things, we may feel as if what we feel now is what we will feel forever. We may believe that we can never be happy, never have anything go right in our lives.
We can't control what will happen to us in life. But if we are only able to see the negative possibilities, those are the doors we will open. If we are able to take that leap of faith and believe that things can be different and better and that we are deserving of good things in our lives, then we will see and open doors and take steps that bring those good things into our lives.
When we stop clinging to the darkness, we find the light. When we let go of the familiar anchors to which we are clinging, we may discover we can fly. When we let go of past anger and hurt and fears, we can discover laughter and love and a whole new world of possibilities.
If we make mistakes, so what? This is how we learn. This is how we grow. This is how we move forward in our lives.

Randy in India

Warning: In the interests of remaining as non-controversial as possible, I need to advise you dear readers that some of you may be offended by this post. If you do find this post offensive then you probably don't really understand what I'm trying to say. I am nothing if not tolerant and open-minded. Just think really hard before you allow yourself to be taken over by political correctness.

I have a problem with customer service jobs being shipped over to India. There. I said it. This has nothing to do with jobs being taken away from "hard-working red-blooded Americans" or anything like that so put your flags back in your pocket. This has everything to do with the nuances of cultural differences that makes this world wonderful but can be very frustrating in the realm of customer service.

I have dealt with my share of customer service reps from all over the world and I have never had a major problem with speaking to reps in India (except for the fact that most Large Companies make their Indian employees change their names to some ridiculous "American-sounding" name like Brad Johnson or Sandy Smith--I doubt this is fooling Grandma and Grandpa Jones in Cheyenne and it ends up making me feel more uncomfortable because I feel guilty that this person has to compromise their identity to work at an AMEX call center. I had the pleasure over the past few days of contacting AMEX in an attempt to change a few things . I have called 4 times. I have spoken to "Carla Lewis," "Brad Johnson," "Sandy Smith" and this morning I had a pleasant conversation with "Randy Lee." All in India. Conversations always begin the same. I give them my card number and verify security info. Easy enough. Problem is, I get different answers to my questions every time I call. And I think that each of these individual's is faking their way through the call. One time I was put on hold for 20 minutes for no apparent reason. Another time I was told to call back because "Brad's" computer wasn't working.

So I talk to "Randy" this morning and he has no idea about my account....

How will they inform me? Will they call, email, send smoke signals, send a carrier pigeon, Pony Express?

"Randy" doesn't know.

When will I find out?

"Randy" doesn't know.

"Randy" doesn't understand.

"Randy" calmly tells me that I will get something in the mail. This is where the cultural differences come in. And I'm blaming this on cultural differences because I don't want to admit that I'm insane. Apparently "Randy" does not care. Because "Randy" is all dharma and everything and I am all born in California and raised by my mother, Queen of Anxiety (which makes me the Princess of Worry-in case you were wondering) the conversation goes downhill.

"Randy" does not know how to reassure me because he does not understand why I am so upset. He hasn't taken the training class entitled "Dealing With the Overwhelmed Neurotic PMSing Customer." I told him the whole situation was ridiculous and that he was ridiculous and AMEX was the most ridiculous of all. And when I hung up the phone, I felt bad.

Right now I hope that "Randy" goes on his lunch break and turns back into Samir and sits down with Rahul, Amita, and Rishi and they had a good laugh at my expense. Because they deserve it.

My suggestions: Companies such as AMEX should spend less time making sure that their Indian employees have Anglo names and more time explaining the meaning of customer service. Customer Service means they will have to deal with crazy women who need to have everything planned in advance and who need constant reassurance and specific instructions and hate living in a limbo world .

MISGUIDED ROSE

When we're going thru disaster and difficulties, sometimes we don't know what to do. It's hard to appreciate life and see grace at work. But when they're over and we look back, we see how they have drawn out the best in us, whats most important to us and how much we've grown! I may not always do or say the little things to let you know how much i appreciate you but there's one thing im sure of: My world is much better with you in it!